Disclaimer. Only the plot and a few of the characters are mine. The rest 'aint…
Chapter Twenty Eight.
Belgravia Police Station.
Daniel sat at a table in the canteen, a mug of coffee in hand reading through the paperwork in front of him.
"There are more forms and paperwork for leaving than there are for joining." He murmured to himself.
His attention was diverted by someone sitting down opposite him. Sandra Howard smiled at him as he looked up.
"Hello Danny. Need any help?"
"No thanks, San'…I think I've got it covered." He replied. He looked back down at the papers. Sandra was renowned as being 'pushy'. Not something he needed right now.
She didn't move away as he expected. "Get you another cuppa?" She asked.
"No, thanks I've still got this one."
"So the word is you've got another girlfriend." She said.
Dan grinned to himself. She was fishing. "Where've you been for the last couple of weeks? And we're engaged, actually." He replied.
"On leave…. Bloody hell that was fast work!….Is she anyone I know?"
"Doubt it." Said Dan not looking up and wishing she'd go away.
"I heard she's foreign…Where's she from? She's not Portuguese is she?" Sandra wasn't giving up easily.
"No, she's not, and if she was it wouldn't matter, anyway."
"Sorry Dan. Didn't mean it like that. So, where's she from then?"
"America."
"Big place. Whereabouts in America?"
"California."
"Still a big place."
Dan looked up at her, and gestured at his paperwork. "Sandra. I'm busy. I don't need the twenty questions right now. Thank you."
"Sorry I breathed."
He became aware of Buffy's situation upstairs. He could hear her thoughts reaching out to him as she tried to determine the course of action. Find her father….or not.
"He gathered his paperwork up. "Gotta go. Needed upstairs." He said to Sandra as he got up.
Her eyes followed him as he left the room hurriedly. "Well that's a first! I must be losing my touch?" She muttered.
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St Saviours. Preston.
Giles looked at Patricia with a certain amount of scepticism. "It sounds awfully like an offer I won't be able to refuse." He said.
"It involves books, Rupert. A whole library of books. Ones which I know you'll want to get your hands on.
"Council books?" He questioned..
"Yes, although not all of them are. Mostly Roger's personal collection and his diaries, and….." She trailed off.
"And…Something else?" Asked Giles.
Her eyes welled with tears. "Yes…Last year we received some boxes from an unidentified source. We were loathe to open them at first in case they were booby trapped in some way. Roger was convinced they were from you at first…."
"Paranoid much?" Asked Vi.
Patricia dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief and took a deep, calming breath.
"…When you gained the seal of approval, as it were, it was the final blow for him. He'd spent most of his life in the Council's service. It had made him a hard, uncaring bully. When Wesley was born he never tried to get to know him as a child, all he wanted to know was when he'd be old enough to understand what was required of him to be able to serve the Council…"
She paused after almost spitting the word 'Council' out with venom.
Wesley never gave up trying to earn his fathers respect, but whatever he did, it was never good enough. Roger hardly spoke to him after he was sacked by Travers. Even then Wesley didn't give up. No matter where he was, he would always remember our birthdays and Christmas, and call to wish us well. Roger was always so cold towards him. I tried to make it up to him the best I could, but it was always his father's recognition he needed."
"So, I take it you opened them, the boxes that is." Said Giles.
"Yes, they were full of Wesley's diaries, and one or two other books that we thought were lost. Somehow he'd managed to secret them away from Wolfram and Hart before…"
She began to sob uncontrollably. Giles put an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards the waiting cars.
She gathered herself slightly as they neared.
"They're all yours Rupert. I want nothing in return, just to know that they'll be put to good use. Bateman will only use them against you. Watch out for him, Rupert, he's nasty piece of work."
"I know, and I will. Thank you Patricia. When can I arrange for them to be collected?" He replied gently.
"You need to get them today, if possible. Roger was scheduled to meet with Bateman tomorrow, and when he doesn't show up…"
"I see." Said Giles. He beckoned to Xander, who came over to them.
"Xander, Vi. Will you take Patricia home please, and stay with her. Contact David Peterson and have a team sent over to clear out all of the books. Take them to Westbury, so that they can evaluate and disseminate what there is at our leisure." He looked back at Patricia. "If Bateman finds out what you're doing you may not be safe. I suggest you pack a bag and go along too."
Patricia nodded thoughtfully.
"What about you guys?" Asked Xander.
"We'll be alright. We only have to travel to Coughton Hall for the reading of the will and then return to Westbury." Replied Giles.
Xander nodded and Vi guided Patricia to their car. Olivia got out of the Jag and came over to him.
"Is everything alright Rupert?"
"I believe so. Xander and Vi and Vi are returning to Warwick with Patricia to recover some resources."
They returned to the car. Alan Tasker had been watching the impromptu meeting with interest. He hadn't seen anything of Vi's weapon of choice as she confronted Patricia, but he had noticed the protective mode she and Xander had entered into as the old lady had met with Sir Rupert. When Xander had returned to the car with Olivia and Natalie his jacket had slipped open slightly, revealing the Glock tucked away in the armpit holster that Xander favoured. This had shocked him initially, even though he didn't show it, and had caused his thoughts to recall all the snippets of information he'd gathered during the chauffeuring duties he'd performed for the group over the last year or so. What was the connection between the recent funeral at North Acton, the deaths at a ski lodge, and Sir Rupert Giles, who he now knew was next in line of accession to the title of Lord Lancaster. There were numerous young Americans involved, and it somehow all connected to….Sunnydale. The name popped into is head again. Now it was 'bugging him' as his daughter, Vicky would say. He needed to join the dots to get the full picture. When he got home tonight he'd ask her to help him research the place on the internet.
As the two cars and hearse pulled away the thick necked man dressed in a dark overcoat, grey pinstriped trousers, and rather scruffy looking shoes stepped out from behind a buttress at the rear of the church. Bateman pulled out a mobile phone and dialled a number. He allowed it to ring for several minutes and then hung up. A puzzled look crossed his face. Then he dialled another number. This time it was answered.
"Wallace. It's Bateman. Have you seen Roger today?….Something's not right. Patricia's just turned up at Leigh's funeral…..No she didn't see me…..Get someone over to Warwick….Because she left with two of Giles' Watchers, that's why, you blithering idiot. Now get it looked into!" He blew air out of his mouth forcefully as he snapped the phone shut. "Bloody imbeciles! They always question an order."
He left the sanctuary of the Churchyard and made his way to a tatty looking Rover parked in the side street. He drove away leaving a cloud of blue hazy smoke in his wake.
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Heathrow.
At Heathrow Airport, two men got off a midday flight from Berlin and passed through customs. Dressed as typical European businessmen, one was more noticable from the other because of the scratches to his face and the limp that he was unsuccessfully trying to hide . Utcha Kostava and Günter Hauser collected their bags and got into a National Express bus heading for London. Reports that had come in from Interpol over the weekend had indicated that the British Police had captured one of the group responsible for the explosion at the ski lodge and Dedika's death. Moves had to be made to locate the prisoner and possibly gain access to him so that Hauser might question him regarding the deaths. Utcha also wanted access for that reason, however his ultimate goal was something darker….Revenge.
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Belgravia Police Station.
The phone rang and Ed answered it, excusing himself from the other two. Buffy got up and stood by the window, watching the traffic file past on the street below. Harry Pearce came over and stood next to her.
"I think I know what your dilemma is." He said.
"Wanna explain it to me then. What could you possibly know about my life." She snapped.
Harry didn't react. She was confused and hurt.
"Believe it or not, quite a lot." He said. "Not the personal stuff, of course, but I can relate to the secrecy, subterfuge and danger you have to face. It's something we have to deal with on a personal and professional level every hour of the day, every day of the week., 365 days of the year."
"So, you're wife doesn't know you're a spy then?"
"She did. She died last year. Like your parents, we were divorced. The job got in the way. I have a daughter about your age. She thinks I'm an ordinary boring Civil Servant. She doesn't know what I do for a living, and I can't tell her because it might put her in danger. She's a journalist. Fly on the wall documentaries, that sort of thing."
"And you're scared you might end up as the subject of one of them, or someone will use her to get to you." Said Buffy.
Harry sighed. "Precisely. Consequently I have very little contact with her, combined with the fact that she blames me for her mother's death. She seems to believe that I could have prevented her contracting cancer and that I should have been around more when she was younger."
"That still doesn't tell me what I should do."
"Perhaps it's time you found your father and told him the truth. You're not bound by the same protocols as I am." He suggested.
Buffy rolled her eyes. "That's more or less what Giles said. The last time I tried that, he stuck me in an asylum."
"You were how old at the time?"
"Fifteen."
"I think there's a lot of difference in your age now, and what you were expected to be when you were fifteen. You're an adult now. With that comes a certain amount of credibility, people will almost automatically accept what you say as true, although a little proof sometimes goes along way." He said with a grin.
"So I find my dad, stake a vamp in front of him, and he says. 'Sorry honey, I was wrong to not believe you.' Sounds simple…Not."
"How so?" He asked.
"What if he's already dead? What if, that guy Hennessy killed him and stole his life so that there was no risk of two of them being around? What if he found out I was right about there being vamps and demons around? What if that knowledge and the fact that I'm the Slayer scared him so much that he didn't wanna see me again?…Ever.!"
"That's a lot of 'what ifs'. Is that your biggest concern? That he'll think you're some kind of freak of nature. That he won't accept you for who you are?"
Buffy nodded silently, and stared out of the window again.
"I don't believe that could ever be true. You're his daughter. His flesh and blood. Although the only way to find out for sure, is to find and ask him."
"What about you? Your daughter. Would you tell her, explain to her, about what you do."
"Were it not for all the red tape and the non-disclosure agreements that we have to comply with… Yes, in a heartbeat." Said Harry, solemnly.
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Dan arrived on the fourth floor and dashed out of the lift towards Clewley's office.
Gemma Marsden looked up at the speeding officer.
"Hi, Dan. Where's the fire?" She asked.
"Hi Gemma. Is the Guv'nor in?"
"Yes but he's got two others in there at the moment. One of them is…"
"…Buffy. Yes I know." Said Dan, as he passed her. She got up quickly and stood in front of the door to stop him getting past her like Buffy had.
"You can't dash in like that I've got to ask first." She said.
Dan feinted to the right and then went left, brushing past her and opening the door.
As he opened the door Gemma tried to stop him. Ed Clewley looked up from his telephone conversation and asked the person on the other end to hold on for a moment.
"Ah, Carter, you're here." Said Clewley.
"Sorry , Sir. He just pushed past." Said Gemma from behind Dan as she tried in vain to hold him back.
"It's alright Gemma. Not to worry. Why don't you go to lunch. We still have some things here to discuss." Replied Clewley.
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Gemma Marsden knew when someone was trying to get rid of her for a while. What the hell were they discussing that was so secret? And how did it all involve Dan's new girlfriend, she puzzled as she made her way down to the canteen, where she bumped into Sandra Howard.
"Hi Gem. Have you seen Danny. He ran out of here like a frightened rabbit a few minutes ago." Asked Sandra.
"Yeah. He's acting a bit weird. He's just burst right into Clewley's office, and Clewley never said a word. Mind you he did know that his girlfriend was in there, meeting with that Mr. Pearce."
"Blimey! There's something goin' on then. Wonder if it's got anything to do with that bloke they've got isolated in the cells downstairs."
"What bloke?"
"Not sure. I think it's got something to do with that other bloke that caused the RTA that killed Geoff and Andy. One of their mates or something."
"Steve, Tony and Pete chose that moment to enter the canteen.
"Ladies!" Said Steve loudly. "How about some hot male company." He added as they looked up.
Gemma smiled. "Hello trouble. Collared anyone interesting this morning?"
"Nah. Just routine. Talked to an old chap who said he saw two blokes turned to dust by a young girl last night, but I reckon his breath was still about a hundred proof. You could smell him a mile off."
"What's got into Danny Carter? He's just dashed off upstairs and burst into Clewley's office." Said Sandra, wanting to get to the bottom of it.
"Dunno? Apart from the fact he's quitting."
"What?!!" Exclaimed the two women.
"You didn't know….Well, there's a first then lads. We knew something before the gossip grapevine." Announced Pete.
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Dan and Buffy slipped out of Clewley's office about half an hour later. Harry was still there discussing with Ed as to whether Davies fell under MI-5's jurisdiction, so they took the opportunity to see him first, just in case Harry had him moved.
They met Gorman coming out of the cells area and he accompanied them back down, saving any awkward questions on Buffy's behalf, and quickly briefing them on the state of play.
The door to the cell opened and Davies didn't even look up from where he was lying on the bed.
"You back again. I told you…." He started. Then he noticed the two extra visitors."
"Well well, look what the cat dragged in. Last time I saw those two mugs I was staring at them through scope. How'd you do it?"
"Do what?" Queried Dan.
"Survive. I don't miss. I didn't miss!" He replied, pointedly.
"Then how are we standing here?" Asked Buffy. "Coz last time I checked I didn't have a hole anywhere there isn't supposed to be one."
"Me neither." Grinned Dan.
Gorman sniggered at the comments.
"Ha, bloody ha! Very funny. You know what I mean. I shot you two; or two people exactly like you. You got doubles or something?" Snapped Davies.
"Or something." Said Buffy. "I'll get to the point. I don't want to be near to you any longer than necessary. Upstairs there's a conversation going on as to who wants the biggest piece of you and your buddies. You could co-operate and tell us how to find them or even get them to surrender. I could make life so much easier for you."
"And if I don't."
"There's a really nice man from MI-5 up there who wants to put you in a deep hole and fill it in. Personally that is not a nice place to wake up in, trust me. I could make you disappear just as easily. All I gotta do is go through the telephone book and announce to say, the Russians, or a couple of African presidents that I've got you, and it'll get a whole lot more painful. Doesn't a nice warm prison cell sound a whole lot more appealing?" She said, nonchalantly.
"What do I need to do to stay here?" He asked.
Give me what I ask for, something that makes it worth while me going to the trouble of keeping you in here."
"I'd rather be out there."
"Not gonna happen. Tell me about Spain, 2002. A guy named Veranos." She said, glancing at Dan to make sure that she'd got the name right. He nodded.
"Not me. Parker did that one. Contractor wanted proof it was him. Cut his right hand off. Bloody messy if you ask me. Why?"
"Do you speak Spanish?"
"A bit."
"I'm told the literal translation means 'Summers'. She said. "That's my name."
"I know that. We looked you up. Ah. I see. Look we weren't to know he was one of yours. Was he?"
As it happens, no. But he was using my father's profile to keep a cover story going."
"You'd have to ask Parker. I wasn't even in the country."
"What about Mandy Manning?" Said Dan from the back of the room.
"Again, not me. Too high a profile for me. I like the ones who like to keep out of the limelight. Royce took that one. Used the Pinkie."
"A what?" Asked Buffy.
"It's what we call a Military Land Rover." Said Davies.
"Then tell us where they are or might be, an we'll ask 'em." She said.
Not likely. Unless they think I'm dead, they'll be looking to get me out; and they will find a way. I've already sent them a message."
"No you haven't" Said Gorman. "I'd know."
"Tried accessing that bank account yet?" Replied Davies, smarmily. When Gorman looked at the other two, he continued. "I thought so. That was the message. By now the money will be gone elsewhere and they'll make preparations to find me."
"Not if we take them down first." Said Gorman.
"True, but you don't know where they are. I don't even know that at this moment. They'll know how to find you though. You've got to be lucky three times at least. We've only got to be lucky once." Said Davies.
"They come near us again, I will take them down." Stated Buffy.
"See, it's true then, you are one of us." He said.
"One of you what?"
"A contract killer. A hit man…woman. That or some sort of top level spy?"
"That is so not true."
"Then why do they call you the Slayer?"
"Who told you that?"
"A little bird."
"Who!" Said Buffy, raising her voice.
"Oh, no. You give me something. I give you something." Davies wasn't giving it up easily without some sort of concession.
Buffy rolled her eyes, pulled out her cell phone and dialled. When it answered she said. "Who do we know in the Russian Embassy…Good. Have him call me." She snapped the phone shut and looked back at Davies. "I don't do deals. Tell me!"
Gorman and Dan stood back smiling and watching the performance. They didn't need to input anything.
"You bitch!" Said Davies.
"Not yet, but I can be if you really want. Now tell me who gave you that name." Retorted Buffy.
"Royce got it; from Arthur Maguire." He answered, sullenly.
End of Chapter Twenty Eight.
