Part Three
'I'm not saying you're wrong,' Cordelia said - Doyle's head was still buried in the desk drawers and she was talking to his back. 'I'm just saying … how are we gonna manage this? We don't have the resources or … or …'
'We'll do what we did last time,' Doyle told her, still rooting away, 'hire a truck - get 'em out. We got money comin' in from the watcher's council now - we can afford to spend a bit on gettin' this thing up and running.'
'OK, sure - but where are we gonna take 'em? The Lister demons already had a location in mind, we just facilitated getting them on the boat. You said it yourself - we can't ship everyone to Briole. Where are we gonna take all these demons that's safe?'
Doyle straightened up, frowning, as if considering this problem carefully. 'I guess we take it on a case by case basis. Some of them might be native to somewhere else - we can send them back there. Or they might have family in another state they can go to. We can work somethin' out.'
'Fine - we work it out, then what? Think about it, Doyle. A whole bunch of demon types aren't gonna listen to us. We're human!'
'I'm not.'
She sighed, 'half human,' she corrected - 'and believe you me that's the only side of you they'll see. You know what demons get like. And - besides - I'm a slayer. No self respecting demon is gonna take advice from a vampire slayer! They'll think it's a trap.'
'You know, you're right,' Doyle agreed, he went back to hunting through the drawers - finally finding what it was he had been looking for all this time. 'Maybe we won't be able to convince 'em.' He threw the object down on the desk - it was a business card, for a demon's rights and liaison organisation. 'But maybe Harri can.'
Angel stared up at his team, who stared back down at him - their eyes bulging with fear. He tensed up, ready to do some damage - but Lawson noticed, and was ready with his warning. 'Easy now, That's double-ought wire wrapped around your crew's necks. Take a fella's head clean off with just a little tug. Best not go rough housing. Something might get knocked over.'
Angel took a step back and shook his head. 'Whatever it is you want for me … this isn't the way to get it.'
But Lawson's eyes lit up in delight. 'Already gettin' it,' he told his sire. 'The worry in your eyes, fear of what might happen next … which is right on the mark, 'cause I got a feeling there's gonna be some blood spilled here tonight.' He shrugged and smiled; a rueful, reflective smile with a hint of nostalgia in it. 'For old time's sake.'
Lawson returned to the control room and checked on his crew. O'Shea had both the bow and stern under control - though the stern planes were dragging. They would have to hope there was no need to control down in a hurry. He headed on over to Hodge to check on the communications system. It was all quiet out there - no signs of life … but Lawson figured that was probably for the best: the quieter the better. It meant there were no Jerrys out there, lurking.
Behind him, Angel had also returned to the control room - and was now locked in an argument with the vampire in the S.S jacket … the one Angel seemed to know so well.
'When do I get a turn?' Spike was whining. Angel sighed, 'in about never,' he answered. This was just … just classic Spike. The biggest pain in the ass Angel had ever had the misfortune to come across. If only Drusilla had just killed him, like she was supposed to, then Angel would have been saved … just so much irritation. Both now and back when he was evil.
'I'm playing nice with the anchovies, like you asked,' Spike said. He pointed to where O'Shea was steering. 'At least let me have a go on the wheel.'
'Pipe down - I'm trying to work,' Angel said to him, through gritted teeth. But that only made Spike snort with disgust. 'Oh "pipe down" that official sailor talk is it? Well ahoy there matey - you can just swab my deck.' He gave his two fingered salute once again.
'Spike -'
'Captain.'
'What?'
'I want to be called captain,' Spike said. He turned to look at the human crew and grinned at them maliciously. 'I mean - hell - I did eat him.'
Over at the comms station, Hodge got to his feet, angrily - but Lawson put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head; convincing the younger man to sit down - and not take on a fight he could not win.
Seeing the reaction Spike's words had had, Angel realised he needed to get the idiot out of there - before he caused a mutiny amongst the humans. He grabbed hold of the other vampire's collar and bundled him out of the chamber. 'Check the torpedoes, before I stuff you in a tube and send you for a swim, Captain.'
Once Spike had stumbled through the hatch, he turned back - and saw Lawson watching him. 'We gonna have a situation, sir?'
Angel shook his head, 'he'll do what I tell him.'
'Because you know each other - from before this, right?' It needed saying. There was something between these two vampires. Some reason Angel wasn't just killing this monster that had slaughtered most of the crew … and Lawson couldn't see how that was in keeping with the mission.
Folding his arms across his chest, Angel peered at the ensign. 'Something on your mind, son?' His tone suggested that he was not willing to discuss Spike, or his reasons for keeping him alive - again.
Lawson shook his head, but he maintained eye contact. This was the navy, he couldn't just say what he wanted to a superior officer, but he knew how to get his point across without using so many words. 'I just want to make sure that this boat gets to where it's going. That - and my crew - are all that matters.'
'How are they holding up?' Angel asked him. Lawson shrugged. They had all known - when they had signed on - that capturing a Jerry sub might be a one way ticket. But they were good men, they could hold it together. Scared as they were, they could handle the thought of dying so long as it had a greater purpose. They would keep it together and follow orders - or they would answer to Lawson.
'Good,' Angel nodded, 'everybody keeps their cool - we might just make it out of this.'
His statement was immediately followed by a man screaming in terror from beyond the next hatchway. He rolled his eyes - timing - he didn't have it. 'Dammit!'
Doyle was down in the apartment by himself. Cordelia was still upstairs. Though Doyle had made the initial contact, ringing Harri and outlining the problem - and their proposed solution - he had then handed the phone over to his girlfriend. She was much better at organising stuff than him, working out logistics and so on. She had always been the practical member of Angel Investigations, keeping the everyday side of the business afloat. She would do a much better job of working through what was needed and how to set it up than Doyle would. Besides … talking to Harri was still awkward. But his ex wife and his wife to be got along great - they were much better off figuring this out together without him trying to insert himself, getting in the way and making everything uncomfortable.
He had the little girl's shoe in front of him. He didn't know what maudlin impulse had made him take it with him … but here it was. Somehow he just hadn't been able to leave it behind. He supposed it was a symbol - an emblem - of all the lives that had been lost because of him, and all the lives he was trying to save. It was a reminder to keep on fighting, giving him a purpose and a reason to keep on going. The first little girl, this little girl, their families - all the families just like them - they were what mattered, they were the reason why defeating The Scourge mattered. They were everything that Doyle was trying to protect.
He stared down at the shoe and let out a deep breath. He was ready now. Ready to stop the killings, ready to protect innocent people from The Scourge. He had a plan - and was willing and able to see it through in order to save lives. This was it. This was his redemption right here - everything coming back full circle. The Scourge. The little girl. Everything that Doyle had been running from for so long - now he was ready to face it. He could save all the people the PTB wanted him to save … he just needed them to send a vision before a slaughter happened next time. He was ready. Now the ball was in the higher powers' court.
Angel and Lawson rushed through the hatchway to find out what was going on. The Prince of Lies had the German trapped in a corner and was attacking him. 'What the hell are you doing?' Angel yelled.
The Prince of Lies had hold of some papers - a report - and he brandished this at the terrified German. 'You think I don't know?' he screeched in outrage, as the soldier cowered beneath him. 'I am as ancient as the dark itself.'
'Yeah - you're real old,' Angel agreed with him, raking disdainful eyes over the long white eyebrows and wrinkles of the ancient vampire. 'We know - just calm down.'
But the Prince of Lies brandished the report again and would not be calmed. 'They dare to conceive such violations against my temple.' He bore down on the German once again. 'The Prince of Lies is not a slab of meat to be set upon by insignificant maggots.'
'Put a sock in it,' he pulled the other vampire away, but the Prince of Lies roared out in anger and smacked Angel down, knocking him staggering backwards. Lawson pulled his gun and shot several times right at the ancient monster. The bullets hit - but had no impact - and The Prince of Lies roared out again and smacked Lawson down. Then he turned back to the terrified German.
'Nein! Bitte! Ich flehe dich an -' he was cut off by the gnarled hand of The Prince of Lies closing around his throat and squeezing. 'I will suck the brain from your skull and digest your thoughts like a sour pudding.'
Down on the floor, Angel grabbed the fire axe that had killed Nostroyev. He scrambled to his feet, rushed forward and plunged the wooden handle down through the Prince of Lies' back. The Prince of Lies exploded in a cloud of dust so dark it looked like smoke. Lawson and the rest of his crew, huddled in the doorway watching what was going on, stared on in uncomprehending disbelief.
The German grabbed hold of Angel's arm. 'Danke. Er haette mich sonnst ungebracht.' Angel thumped him, and he slumped back down. Then Angel turned back to the American crew. 'You OK?' he asked Lawson, helping him back to his feet.
'Nothing a year of shore leave won't fix.'
'He exploded!' Hodge said, unable to keep it any longer, his eyes still fixed on the point where the Prince of Lies had turned into dust. 'He stabbed him, and then he just exploded.'
Lawson turned back to his crew and ordered them back to their stations. It wasn't good to have them standing there - wondering what was going on like that. They needed direction and discipline, someone to take charge - now was not the time for them to start contemplating impossible things. But - even though he turned to leave, obeying the order, Hodge wasn't done wondering. 'How can a guy just explode like that?'
'Man's asking a good question,' Lawson said to Angel, holstering his gun - how a guy could survive four bullets to the chest was another question. And how a man could reach the submarine without a dive suit - that one had never been answered either. All these questions were fair, and now it was feeling like - navy or not - Lawson wanted answers before he carried on with the mission.
'You really need an answer?' Angel asked him.
'Might help if I heard it for sure.'
'Vampire.'
Lawson shook his head, 'yeah, I take it back - doesn't help. What do you think set him off?'
Spike had arrived back from the torpedo room to see what was going on. He picked up the papers the Prince of Lies had been brandishing, whatever had upset the old git must be in them … but they were in German - and Spike was flummoxed. 'Anybody speak Nazi?' he flung them at the German soldier. 'Right let's have it.' He morphed into his vampire face.
The German looked terrified at the sight of Spike's face changing to become ridged and fanged and hideous. But he was still not willing to give up his Fuhrer's secrets. 'Dein Kleingeist wuerde unsere arbeit echt nicht vestehen.'
'How's that again, mate?'
'He says you're an idiot,' Lawson translated, and - even fighting on opposite sides of the war - he didn't disagree. 'Was sind das fuer papiere?' he asked, 'Ich werde ihn nicht aufhalten koenen. Was sind das fuer papiere?'
With a quick glance at Spike's snarling face, the German looked at Lawson and answered his question. 'Nachtforschungen.'
It was research - and a bit more questioning revealed it was a study into intra-brain stimulation and attempts to gain control over hostile sub-terrestrials. More specifically - gaining power over vampires.
Whilst this had sounded like nothing but a garbled Saxon mess to the monoglot Spike - he still managed to pick up the last word. 'What's that about vampires?' he growled.
Lawson grabbed the report and began to leaf through it. It was technical. But he understood enough to know that the Nazis had been experimenting on vampires, cutting into their brains. They were trying to create an army - out of things like Spike.
Spike nodded his head and looked over his shoulder at Angel. 'That explains why they nicked us. Cream of the crop. You wanna create an army of vampire slaves, start at the top … with the generals.'
Lawson wasn't listening to the vampire, though, he was staring at the German - anger etched into every line of his young face. 'It's not enough what you're already doing in the world is it? Only you and your Fuhrer could come up with something this sick.'
The German soldier began to laugh, a dark and hollow little laugh. It seemed he could understand enough English to get by - enough to understand what Lawson was yelling at him. 'Da sind wir nicht de einziden, mein junge…' We're not the only ones. Then he looked across at Angel, a sly smirk spreading across his face, 'nicht wahr?'
'Genug!' Angel shouted at him. Spike glanced around looking confused. 'Am I the only one here don't speak Kraut?'
Again, Lawson wasn't listening to Spike. This time it was Angel he was staring at in disbelief. 'You knew about this?' he was practically choking on his own rage. He had trusted this guy - and this whole time …
'It was a part of the mission,' Angel admitted, a little shamefaced. Sure, the Jerry sub was important - someone, somewhere would really get to town on stripping it down and finding out how it was the German's were so far ahead in their u-boat technology. But it wasn't the crux of the mission. It wasn't the reason Angel had been forcibly called up and sent to the bottom of the ocean. It wasn't what the man in black and his demon research initiative wanted. They could always steal another sub - but the research on board this one was what mattered.
'What mission?' Spike asked, then realisation hit him, 'oh - I get it you're working both sides.' He shrugged. 'I respect that. But if the Yanks are after this stuff too I'm eating the lot of them.'
'No you aren't.'
'Try and stop me,' he took a large stride towards Lawson, who pulled his gun - ready to defend himself. Angel shoved him backwards - they needed the humans, he wasn't going to get trapped at the bottom of the ocean.
'And I'm not being experimented on by his government!' Spike yelled angrily, thrusting a finger towards Lawson.
'We wouldn't do that!' Lawson yelled back at him. 'You don't win a war by doing whatever it takes, you do it by doing what's right.'
But that only made Spike laugh. 'Yeah? Tell me how that works out for you, Popeye.'
Angel shook his head. Having heard the contents of the research he wasn't going to be a party of this, wasn't going to help the U.S government create a secret team of supersoldiers. If that was really their plan … well he could have told the man in black, back in New York, what a stupid idea it was. How it would never work. It would end in disaster, and innocent people would die - and he wasn't gonna be a party to it. That research was never gonna leave this boat - and the world would be a better place for that. He'd take the sub back to the American government, he'd give them what was left of the crew … but as for the research, 'torch it,' he said to Spike.
Spike pulled out his lighter, laughed in the face of the German frantically begging him not to do it - and lit up the paper. 'God save the King!' he sang as it burned, 'send him victorious, happy and glorious…' The fire licked up the paper and then spread onto his jacket sleeve. He quit singing, started cursing and dropped the remains of the research to the floor - stamping out the last of the fire.
A muffled bang sounded in the distance - like the noise of an explosion underwater. Lawson looked worried, 'what the hell was that?' He ran back to the control room to speak with his men. Angel and Spike followed after him, leaving what remained of the research - and the fragments of information it still contained - lying forgotten on the floor of the boat.
...
There was another muffled explosion - and Lawson realised what it was 'depth chargers,' he said, and turned to Hodge asking him what he was getting. Hodge held the headset against his ear and listened in to the airwaves. He was getting 3 - no 4 destroyers. 4! They couldn't take on one in their current condition.
Lawson gave the order - and they dove the submarine, heading further beneath the water in an attempt at evasive manoeuvres. There was a tense moment - where nothing could be heard except the pings of the sonar trying to locate them and then … the whole boat rocked as the German destroyers got a hit. There was the sound of an explosion - much louder and closer this time - and the alarms began to go off and the warning lights to flash, This time they had caused damage. 'Report!' Lawson barked.
'Propulsion motor's down,' Tyler told him. 'We're dead in the water.'
'Go! Get it back up!' Angel commanded. But Lawson was looking worried. 'I'm not sure I can,' he admitted.
'Get sure, fast.'
Lawson nodded and ran to the engine rooms just as another explosion rocked the sub. 'We're taking on water,' Spinelli said, 'someone secure the other compartment. Now!'
'We're on it!' Angel grabbed Spike by the collar and bundled him through the hatchway. They found O'Shea trying to tighten a pipe coupling with a wrench. 'It's no good,' the sailor told them, straining to turn the wrench. 'Damn things stripped.'
Angel pushed him out of the way, grabbed hold of the leaking pipe and forced it back tighter into the coupling - shutting off the leak. 'Never … liked… the ocean,' he said between gritted teeth, as he strained. O'Shea just stared at this feat of superhuman strength, not sure what to think or to say.
Spike, however, was supremely unimpressed with Angel's strongman imitation - and instead had spotted another problem. 'Hey - where's Fritz?' he asked, looking around and realising the German had vanished.
Doyle heard the sound of Cordelia's footsteps on the stairs. 'It's all done,' she called down to him, 'Harri is ready to go as soon as we have some hopeless types that need saving. So all you need to do now is have a …'
He brought his hand up to his head, and was thrown backwards on the floor as the vision pain smashed into his skull and the images flickered through his mind.
In the engine room, Lawson had set up his equipment and opened his shirt - this was hot work and he needed to get it down quickly. He mopped his brow with the back of his hand and then went back to trying to loosen a bolt. 'Come on, Sally,' he grunted, 'give it up.' He gave a deep breath of relief, as the bolt finally loosened. He put his wrench down and turned to pick up his screwdriver. It was missing from his tools. He frowned. 'Where the hell's the screwdriver?'
He got back to his feet and headed for the door - only to find the German standing the other side of it, the missing screw driver in his hand. The German ran at him and thrust the makeshift weapon into Lawson's gut, twisting it for maximum damage.
Lawson reached out behind himself, his hands clasped around his wrench and he used that to hit the German over the head. The German fell to the floor, and Lawson collapsed against the engines, grunting in pain and bleeding profusely.
His eyes grew dark as he remembered that moment of pain, as he thought about the exact moment it had all gone wrong. His defining moment. The moment that made him the man he was today. 'Funny what goes through your mind when your life is hanging in the balance,' he said to Angel. 'Boys talked a lot about that back on the boat. Always figured it would be the special moments that you freeze in time… you're mom singing you to sleep at night.' He stood in front of Gunn - and then glanced to the left of him to look up at Wesley. 'Sneaking into the movies with your best friend.' He turned right and stared up at Fred. 'the way your girl's hair shimmers in the sun.' Then he looked back at Angel. 'But the truth is - the only thing that goes through your head is … wow this really sucks.'
Angel found Lawson bleeding out in the engine room. He stepped over the German and went to his side, helping him up. 'I'm all right,' Lawson gasped, and he began to choke. Angel held him still, supporting him, 'try not to move.'
'We're dead without propulsion,' Lawson said, coughing again - blood was starting to trickle from the corner of his mouth.
'Tell me what to do.'
But Lawson shook his head, 'I'm the only one … I'm the only one.' He coughed up more blood. 'I'm not gonna let any more die. I can fix it. I can fix it.'
Angel closed his eyes. 'I know you can,' he said - his voice was as heavy as his unbeating heart … then he morphed into his vamp face and bit down hard on Lawson's exposed neck.
Lawson gasped as he felt the tear of his skin and then his blood being drained from him, but just as he was about to lose consciousness, Angel pulled away from him - sliced his wrist open on the sharp edges of the engine and then held it to Lawson's mouth… and Lawson drank.
The demon lair wasn't too far from the office, an abandoned building in a dodgy part of Downtown. From the outside, all looked quiet - the windows were boarded up, graffiti was sprayed across the wall. It looked like nobody had been here for a very long time. But that was often what demon lairs looked like. They liked them to look dilapidated, forgotten and run down - it made it less likely that humans would come looking around. But tonight - humans had an important reason to be there.
Doyle pulled up, parking the truck at the side of the road - and then he and Cordy got out of the cab and stealthily made their way towards the hideout. They entered the building through a garage - it's door wide open. It was filled with broken bits of furniture, an old mouldy sofa, a few rusted bikes - the demons who lived here must just use this place as a dump. There was a small window at the far end, and the street lamp outside threw its orange light into the space - but other than that the place was in darkness.
There was an internal door, which led up into the building and - on finding it locked - Cordy applied her superstrength and broke her way through. They tiptoed inside. The hallway was just as dark and gloomy as the garage had been, the floorboards were dusty and wallpaper was hanging from the walls in long ragged strips.
'Are you sure the demons who live here are safe?' Cordelia hissed.
Doyle nodded. 'They're not dangerous,' he agreed, 'Frona demons. Completely harmless. But they're hardly safe - that's why we're here.'
'So where are they?'
'Probably round the back, c'mon.' He led her deeper into the building - treading softly, trying not to make the old and rotten floorboards creak beneath their weight. Cautiously, he pushed a door at the far end of the hall opened - and then froze when he heard the sound of the safety being clicked off. And then there was a crossbow being pointed directly in both their faces. They put their hands up - but the owner of the crossbow did not lower it. 'And what exactly are two humans doing here?'
