Part Four

What was left of the crew sat slumped on the floor, overly hot and exhausted. Spike eyed them up, hungrily. 'Air's about gone,' he remarked to Angel, 'your new boy had better get those engines up and running before the fish start flopping.'

'He'll get it done.'

'Hope it's in time.' He nodded towards Hodge. 'That one on the end looks like he's done for. Be a blessing to put him out of his misery.' Beneath their feet, the floor began to rumble as the engines fired up.

'Get them to their feet,' Angel told Spike, 'we need to surface,' and then he headed off to the engine room, his heart still heavy at the thought of what he was about to find there.

...

Lawson was inside - back on his feet - seemingly whole and healthy, and putting his shirt back on. 'You did it,' Angel said.

'Told you I could,' his tone was cheerful.

'Good work.'

'Thanks ...chief. You too.' He looked up as he heard the noise the sub had started to make, 'we're surfacing. Is that a sharp manoeuvre, with the Jerry's still trolling for us?'

Angel shrugged - the sub was out of air, staying below wasn't an option. The crew wouldn't make it if they didn't vent.

'They swore to give their lives for their country … just like me. Besides, I'm hungry.'

'They're still your men.'

'But they're not the mission - are they?' He changed to his vamp face, for the first time - his clean cut, apple pie, stars and stripes, wholesome face turning into the ridged and fanged face of a monster - and he threw a punch at his sire.

But Angel caught the punch and twisted his arm behind him, turning Lawson so he was facing away. 'You're new at this, I'm not,' he warned the brand new vampire. Then he let go of him. 'Let's take a walk.'


Doyle swallowed and stared into the face of the angry Frona demon. It was just a kid by the looks of it - about 17 or so, with piercings in its pointed pink ears and the tufts of its black hair spiked up like a mohawk. But it had the righteous anger that so many young demons had, the anger Rief had always demonstrated, the anger even Doyle recognised - of living in a world that didn't recognise your existence, of being pushed to the margins by a sentient group of mammals that didn't even know you were there.

'Your kind comes round here … fair game, just more vittles for the cooking pot.'

'Look, kid,' Doyle said, he titled his head to one side and kept his voice kind. 'We know Fronas don't eat people - so y' can't scare us. And my girlfriend,' - he waved a hand towards Cordelia, 'she could take that crossbow right out of y' hand if she wanted to. We need to speak to whoever's in charge here. It's urgent.'

But the kid just jabbed the crossbow at them. 'We don't take orders from homo sapiens. Not here.'

There was the sound of footsteps behind them, and then a much deeper voice asked, 'what have you got here, Eshrikigal?'

'Two humans - thought they could just break in and start making demands. Shall I smoke 'em?'

'Turn around, humans,' the voice said. Doyle and Cordy turned - with uneasy backwards glances at the crossbow now pointing at their backs. A middle aged Frona demon stood in front of them. He had the same pink skin, pointed ears and tufty hair as Eshrikigal - though he didn't have the same punk aesthetic going on. Instead he was wearing a plaid shirt and a pair of slacks. Not very menacing. He was obviously hoping to frighten them just by dint of being a demon … he had no idea who he was dealing with. 'What do you think you are doing here?'

Cordelia and Doyle glanced at each other, they hadn't exactly expected a warm welcome, but these demons were actively hostile. 'Look - I know y' don't want us here,' Doyle said, 'but - see - I get these visions, from the Powers That Be; great skull cracking migraines that come with pictures. They tell me when people are in trouble and - uh - well, you guys are in trouble. We're here to help.'

The Frona elder folded his arms. 'We do not need your help.'

'Oh - I think y' might on this one, bud.'

'The Scourge are coming!' Cordelia blurted out. 'We need to not be here when they arrive.'

But the demon elder only scoffed. 'The Scourge aren't real! They're a fairy tale, a children's story to frighten demons into playing nice and keeping their heads down. They're a metaphor for what would happen to us if the humans ever found out we existed.' He looked scornful. 'The only scourge here is you - and your whole species.'

'No - they're real we've seen them. We've fought them. Prophecies have been written about them by other demons - we've read them. We've studied their history. They're real, buster, and they're headed this way and if you don't believe us…' Cordelia trailed off. She knew full well what would happen if the Frona refused to listen to them, but she wasn't all too keen on spelling it out whilst the kid was still pointing a crossbow at them.

'You must have heard all the stories of demons disappearin', turnin' up dead - it's been goin' on for months now.'

'We heard an entire army of slayers walks the earth now. I've heard there's at least one right here in town. Dead demons do not come as a surprise. But it is human girls killing them - not a mythical legion of monsters.'

'It's not me!' Cordelia cried, outraged at the accusation. 'I've been cleaning up the mess, investigating the deaths. Hello! I'm here to get you out right now. If I wanted you dead, buddy, I could have slaughtered your entire family before they even realised I was in the house. I'm trying to stop the slaughter.'

'Uh - yeah - Cordelia's a slayer,' Doyle admitted. 'And I'm a seer and helpin' people in trouble and fightin' the forces of evil is what we do. We're not the ones behind the deaths, but we are the ones tryin' to stop 'em. Look, man, if The Scourge gets here before you leave - they will massacre every last one o' you. And … it won't even be their first massacre of the night. They killed another family, down by the docks, a few hours back…' he went quiet as he remembered the little girl. 'Please get your family outta here,' he said softly.

The demon stared at them - his arms still folded across his chest and his expression closed and indecipherable … the young couple didn't know whether he believed them or not - or if he was about to give Erishikigal the order to shoot. The tense moment lengthened - and Doyle held his breath, not wanting to say anything in case their pleas had been working, and further talking would only ruin it.

The Silence was broken by the sound of footsteps making their way through the garage. Cordelia whirled around in alarm, fearing they were already too late… but there was only one set of footsteps - and it was the soft, brisk tread of sneakers … not the heavy clump of jackboots.

'Francis?' Harri appeared in the hallway. Her ex husband looked relieved to see her. 'Hey, Harri - we were just tellin' the Frona they needed to get outta here but … no luck.'

Harri walked her way towards the group. She smiled softly at Erishikigal and then put out her hand and lowered his crossbow. 'There's no need for that,' she told him, he seemed to accept her word - nodding and taking a step back. Then she turned to the demon elder. 'Harsgeriad, you know I wouldn't come here if it wasn't necessary - but if my former husband says you're in danger then you're in danger. I need you to listen to him and then I'm here to help you and your family get out.'


The Submarine broke the surface, slicing through the waves and coming up into the night air. Spinelli climbed the ladder and opened the hatch, taking a moment to revel in the sudden blast of fresh oxygen to his lungs, and then reluctantly climbed back down.

Angel led Lawson into the chamber. The new vampire stared around at his former crew, who stared back at him - unnerved and unsettled. This thing looked like Lawson, their Lawson, but the way he was looking at them … it wasn't him. Not anymore. Their Lawson was dead - and a monster now walked around in his skin.

'They look smaller,' Lawson said. Angel ignored him - and walked him over to the ladder. '8 hours until sunrise,' he told him. '20 miles from land.'

'I might just make it.'

'I'm sorry for what happened - but if I ever see you again … I'm gonna have to kill you.'

Lawson nodded, 'aye aye, chief' - and then looked around at the boat he had given his life for, and the crew that had meant so much to him. All that seemed so distant now. Everything that had ever mattered was lost to him, everything that had ever seemed important was rendered meaningless. He climbed the ladder and disappeared from view.

Spike snorted. 'Bloody brilliant. Turn the poor sod to save the ship and then make him dash for dry land before Mr. Sunshine scorches him a new one … you're still a dick.'

Unsmiling, Angel crossed his arms and nodded his head, 'yeah I am.' He took a step back, clearing the path to the ladder and glared at Spike meaningfully.

Spike sighed with exasperated disgust, rolling his eyes. 'Bollocks.' Then he too climbed the ladder and disappeared from view.


The Frona demons had listened to Harri, where they had refused to listen to Doyle and Cordy. She - and all her work at her demons' rights organisation - was known to them, and it seemed she was the one human they had any respect for. There were 12 of them living in the squat in total; a pair of elderly grandparents, two middle aged couples and six kids - of which the eldest was Erishkigal and the youngest was about 6. They didn't have much in the way of belongings, demons never did, but the humans set about helping them pack up - as quickly and efficiently as possible.

Harri had hired a truck - just like the team had done so long ago, that first night with The Scourge - and she was planning to use it to transport them out of L.A. 'I know a safe house I can get you to up in Washington,' she explained to Harsgeriad and his wife. 'From there we can work out a way to smuggle you out of the States and over the border.'

'We have family in Alberta,' the demon elder explained to Doyle, 'we can be safe there … though it's hard to have to go cap in hand to relatives who are struggling themselves.'

Doyle smiled wryly, he finished packing up the crate of belongings he was filling and then straightened up. 'It's not forever,' he said, 'me and Cordy - we will stop The Scourge, and then you can come on back, cap firmly back on y' head… but for now... Well, it's better to be safe than…' he whistled, '...dead.'

...

Over at the other side of the room, Cordelia was helping one of the middle aged women get the younger children ready. 'It's like going on a big adventure,' she said to the youngest, helping him on with his coat - her smile was her biggest and brightest. 'You'll ride in a truck - all the way to a brand new country - and there'll be snow and you can build snowmen and see your family and then … you'll be back before you know it.' She stood up and held out her hand, leading two of the little ones out of the building and towards the truck.

'I know it might look a bit scary,' she said, as she lifted them in, 'but look,' she scrambled up into the back of the van and showed them what she had done there, 'I made a whole big nest of all your blankets so you can just snuggle down here, super cosy - you can sleep most of the way. And there's flashlights in case you wanna read - and your mom's packed up some food. And then this time tomorrow - you'll be in Washington.'

She settled the kids down and then went to help the elderly grandparents up into the truck. Then she jumped down, checked her watch and frowned. 'Is there something wrong?' She looked up, Erishikigal was standing there, his crossbow still in one hand, his other holding onto the backpack filled with his belongings.

'I just don't know how long we have - the others need to hurry up … The Scourge could be here any minute, we need to find a way to delay them.' She looked at the teenager appraisingly, 'dump your stuff and come with me.'

He followed her over to her pickup, where she climbed up into the bed and started to sort through the things they kept there. The pickup was the vehicle they took with them whenever there was a job to clean up or bodies to move, and the back of it was usually stashed with supplies for any kind of emergency.

She found what she was looking for and jumped back down, Erishikigal looked at what she was carrying and looked surprised, 'for real?'

She nodded, 'you got a lighter?' It was his turn to nod and he handed it over. She pocketed it, if it came to it - this would prove vital later. They headed into the garage and set to work, and once they were done they headed back into the building via the internal door.

'We need to barricade this,' Cordelia said, 'if nothing else it will slow the Scourge down - give the truck an extra few minutes to put some distance between you and them. They won't be able to follow you once you're on the move.' Together, she and the young demon boy began to shove furniture up against the door.

'What are y' doin'?' Doyle asked, appearing behind them.

'Blocking this entrance,' Cordelia told him. 'Every second counts when you're fleeing The Scourge.'

'Right good thi…' he suddenly stumbled backwards, crashed into the opposite wall and fell to the floor, as he felt the searing pain of a vision migraine cut into his skull. And he saw flashes … jackboots pounding the pavement, the gleam of the silver on their uniforms, their diseased skin … and above all else he felt … fear. And panic. And the sense of just how close they were.

He pushed himself upright, still gasping with the pain. 'They're on their way,' he said slowly. 'They're nearly here … we need to move.'


'Did they at least torture you?' Lawson asked. He paced up and down in front of the strung up team, but was glaring angrily at Angel the whole time. 'Please tell me they did.'

But Angel shook his head, almost imperceptibly - and kept his eyes fixed on the pacing vampire, ensuring he did nothing more to endanger his team. 'Never gave them the chance. Jumped ship off the coast of Maine. Went underground until the war was over.'

'Like any other coward.'

But Angel only shrugged. Wars were fought between men - vampires had no business being in them, no place in them. If the supernatural intervened with the natural order - or was dragged in against its will - then that's when things went bad. Lawson being a case in point. 'I never wanted to do this to you,' Angel said. And he meant it. He hadn't wanted to join up, he hadn't wanted to be on that sub and he hadn't wanted to have to make life and death decisions for a bunch of scared boys. It wasn't his place. And the decisions he had been forced to make still weighed heavy on him - as every death did.

'Oh put your hanky away,' Lawson snapped. 'I know how important the technology they pulled from the sub was to help us stop the Germans. Sounded like a fair shake. One person damned to make the world safe for future generations.' He glanced back at the team - tied and bound on their chairs - and then he smiled at Angel. 'Except these guys.'

Angel didn't allow himself to react. 'Killing them's not gonna change the past.'

'But it'll hurt you - maybe that's enough.'

'Never is.'

Lawson nodded thoughtfully, then maybe he had found his mission again. That's all he'd ever been looking for - a reason to live. A purpose. He had that once upon a time. The small things in life; apple pie, the cub scout code, truth, justice and the American way … it had all been enough for him. Until the day he met Angel. Then it didn't mean anything at all to him anymore. He was a creature of the night - and he embraced his new reality. Did all the terrible things a monster was supposed to do … but it meant nothing. Through it all - through every atrocity - he felt nothing. 60 years of blood drying in his throat like ashes. 'So what do you think huh, chief?' he asked. 'Is it me? Or does everyone you sired feel this way?'

'You're the only one I did this to … after I got a soul.'

The other vampire considered this. His eyes were dark, his expression was strained, as if repressing some great emotion. 'Do I have one too?' he asked, and his voice trembled just a little.

Angel looked away, 'I don't think it works that way, son,' he said sadly.

'Didn't think so,' his fist suddenly struck out from nowhere.


'Lock the doors - the Scourge is here, we shovin' off,' Doyle yelled, tumbling out of the building and onto the sidewalk, where Harri was loading up the last of the family and their belongings. There was an immediate outcry from the family, the little ones beginning to wail in fright - and the demon elders desperately trying to get everyone into the back and settled.

Cordelia gave Erishikigal a boost and, once he was inside, Harri slammed the back door of the truck, locking it in place. She turned to her ex husband, her eyes wide and worried. 'How far away?'

'About a block - maybe two.'

'If they see the truck … they'll know. They'll follow us. We can't outrun them all the way to Washington.'

'They won't see the truck,' he morphed into his demon face '- get goin'.'

She nodded and ran around to the driver's side, clambering in. There was a moment's pause, and then the engine roared into life, the lights came on - and the truck squealed away from the roadside.

'Do you know what you're doing?' Cordelia asked, as it disappeared round the nearest corner. They could hear the rhythmic thuds of the jackboots coming towards them by now; the terrifying pounding that signalled only death. The ground began to tremble beneath their feet.

Doyle nodded. 'I know … be ready.' And he left his girlfriend's side and - with his heart frantically banging against his rib cage and his legs shaking beneath him, he took a deep breath and walked towards the oncoming soldiers.


Angel kicked out, launching the other vampire across the room. Lawson teetered as he regained his balance, only an inch away from knocking over Fred. he glanced back at her and then grinned at Angel. 'Nearly.' Then he dove forward again - lashing out at Angel once more.

'You gave me just enough, didn't you?' he cried out. 'Enough of your soul to keep me trapped between who I was and who I should be. I'm nothing … because of you.' He threw himself towards Angel, but Angel caught him and launched him through the glass window pane of the conference room and out into the lobby.

Lawson landed on the floor amongst the fragments of broken glass and splintered wood of the frame. Angel stepped through the smashed window. Lawson grabbed at a splinter and got back to his feet, wielding his makeshift stake. He reared back with it, ready to plunge it deep into Angel's chest, but Angel grabbed his wrist. There was a moment of struggle - as two opposing forces met and cancelled each other out - and then Angel was able to turn the stake in Lawson's hand and force it towards his chest.

The younger vampire looked down at the fragment of wood nearing his heart - saw the end of the game. He looked up into his sire's eyes. 'Come on, chief, give me a mission.' And then he stopped struggling, and Angel rammed the stake home. Lawson exploded in a cloud of dust. Just like Nostroyev. Just like the Prince of Lies. Just like they all did … in the end.


His heart felt like it was about to explode inside his chest, but he forced one leaden front of the other, making his way through the alleys towards where he could hear the footfalls of the pure blood army.

He reached the end of the alleyway and peered around into the open road. From the way the earth shook, and loose rocks bounced across the ground, he knew they would be visible in a matter of moments. He wasn't even breathing as he waited, and he was deafened by the sound of blood pounding in his ears.

But then the moment came - The first of the soldiers came into view - and Doyle ran out from his hiding place. He collided with the first soldier, shoving it away from himself and then turned and fled - allowing the light of the streetlamps to fall onto his green skin and spikes, making sure The Scourge recognised him as a target. 'There's one!' he heard the troops cry, 'after it!'

He ran, fleeing down the next alley way, winding and wending his way away from the main road, to make sure that the truck had time to drive away to freedom without being seen. He scrambled over a wire fence blocking the end of one alley and jumped down, running down the next - back the way he had come - back to Cordelia. Behind him, he heard the soldiers just run the fence down, trampling it under their thunderous jackboots.

His lungs felt like they were going to explode now, as well, and all his limbs were shaking like jelly under the exertion - but he kept on running, not daring to even take the time to glance back and see how close behind they were. He sent a silent prayer up to The Powers that he would reach Cordelia before he was caught.

And then he was out of the alley and back on the main road. The Fronas abandoned home was just ahead of him. There was no sign of Cordy, but he knew she must be close, must be able to see him. He put on another burst of speed … but was then brought crashing to the ground as a foot soldier of The Scourge caught up with him.

Without even thinking, he rolled over and launched himself upwards, headbutting the demon - goring it with his spikes. The demon recoiled and Doyle kicked at it and then scrambled out from under it's bulk - running on once more. They were right behind him, the one he had injured was back on its feet and its comrades were over taking it. He ran.

Just … a few more steps … just … it was right there. His heart banged furiously inside of him, battering against his insides … just … a little further … He ran inside the garage. All the broken and abandoned furniture had been left behind, still piled up. There was a sharp, tangy smell in the air; familiar, not completely unpleasant - but it made his head hurt - and a streak of something wet trickled out all the way towards the door. He ran through the garage, the boots only mere steps behind him now. As he reached the far side of the space, he took one great breath and then launched himself forwards and upwards, tucking himself into a ball as he flew through the air. He smashed his way through the small window and then fell through the night sky, surrounded by the falling fragments of glass - and then landed hard on the asphalt outside.

Cordelia had watched his progress from the garage roof. Hidden in the shadows, she waited until the last soldier of The Scourge was inside - then she listened for it - the sound of the glass smashing: Doyle was out.

She jumped to the ground, flicked Erishkigal's lighter open and then dropped it into the streak of wet that she had left trickling all the way to the door. The gasoline lit up at once - and followed the path she had poured earlier - all the way up to the petroleum soaked and abandoned furniture. There was a wooshing sound as it all took light, a cry of alarm from The Scourge - and then she slammed the garage door shut, trapping them inside with the fire.

...

Doyle was waiting for her by the truck, when she got back to it. He was breathing heavily, and looked shaken … but he was all in one piece. Behind them, they could hear the frantic banging of The Scourge Soldiers against the garage door as they tried to escape the flames. 'You OK?' Cordelia asked.

He nodded - but was too exhausted to speak.


After he'd freed his team and told them to go home for the night, Angel headed back up to his penthouse. The living room was now in disarray from his fight, his coffee table smashed into matchsticks and all his papers strewn across the floor.

Lawson had come here looking to die, he knew that much - had come here because he wanted the man who had made him to be the one who killed him. Because maybe that would give it all some meaning, some purpose. Sixty years without a reason to go on living had weighed him down until he just didn't want it anymore.

Angel got that. Just these few months at Wolfram and Hart - without purpose, without reason, without hope - had been enough to grind him down, crush him into a powdered nothing, unable to keep fighting. But all that had changed - and he had a reason again.

He paused to look at the papers he had just picked up, the client files of some of the higher tier demons the firm represented. The Circle of the Black Thorn. He needed to find it and destroy it. Lawson may have had no reason to live, but Angel did - his purpose was to bring this whole law firm down from the inside. And the Senior Partners wouldn't even see it coming.

But it was a dangerous job, and if they ever did suspect, then The Senior Partners would kill him, his team, his son. They had already made one attempt on his life. He had to do everything he could to protect the people he cared about. Had to distance himself from them, hide his true purpose - and start acting like the company man. Otherwise he would be stopped before he had even begun.

There was a knock at the door. 'Angel,' he heard Wesley say.

He didn't even look around. 'I thought I told you to go home.' His voice was curt.

There was a slight pause, he imagined Wesley frowning at this uncharacteristic response. 'I just thought I'd check you were alright - after tonight's events.'

'I'm fine.'

'After all these years - Lawson showing up out of the blue like that …'

'Wesley, I said I'm fine.'

'Alright - I'll leave you to it,' there was the sound of footsteps as the watcher withdrew from the doorway - but then the sound stopped. 'Angel? What do you think Lawson was looking for?'

Angel looked down at the papers in his hand, at the research that was driving him onward - giving him meaning. He knew all too well what it was Lawson had wanted: 'A reason.'


Back at home, Doyle collapsed on the sofa as soon as he had staggered in. Cordelia switched on the coffee maker. She glanced across at him - silent and exhausted, there were dark smudges under his eyes and he was still breathing rapidly - and once his coffee was made, she poured a slug of whisky into it before handing it across.

'Thanks Princess.'

'So - we finally did it. We finally rescued someone from under the nose of The Scourge.'

His pale face lit up in a wan smile, 'yeah - I guess we did.'

'We did good today.'

'Yeah.'

'You did good today. We made our first real move - and it went in our favour. And even if those soldier guys manage to get out of that burning building …'

'They'll get out,' Doyle interrupted her. 'No way are they that easy to kill. And once they're free, they'll know that there's someone out there helpin' the demons escape them. Next time … next time it'll be harder.' He took a drink of his coffee, and grimaced at the unexpected sourness of the whisky. 'I guess I must have done good,' he remarked, raising an eyebrow, 'if you're voluntarily givin' me alcohol.'

'Well, I think you both deserve and need it right now.'

He nodded and took another drink, 'amen to that. But we're gonna need more - in the comin' months - than just a jerry can of gas and a lighter. We've still a long way to go, darlin'. We won the battle tonight, but we've barely started fightin' the war.'


A/N next episode is Smile Time. I'm sure you all know it is both a very famous and much beloved episode of the show - and appears in most people's top 10 if not top 5 lists of best Angel episodes but ... it's also the episode that translates least well to a written format. Because there is no possible combination of words in the English language that can accurately describe just how freaking hilarious that puppet is to look at. So I'm going to need you to a) moderate your expectations for and b) bring your visualisation A game to this next episode. Otherwise it will be a big fat raspberry. See you on Friday.