AN: These next few chapters will deal heavily with Buffy's forced encounters while a slave of The Ring. Again, there is nothing graphic, but plenty is implied.
Warnings and disclaimer in Chapter 1. Enjoy!
"We'll split into three teams," Riley ordered the group of commando's around him. His full force had finally arrived. He was going over team assignments and mission parameters with his unit commanders in the Summers basement, which had been chosen so certain light sensitive members of the Scooby gang could join. "I'll take Alpha Company. Graham, you take Bravo. Nate will lead Charlie." The two soldiers nodded. "Alpha and Bravo will split the nights." He paused and looked to Graham. "I'll take the first part, you take the last?" They both nodded and Riley returned to his briefing. "The main target at night is the vampire, although it is likely the witch will be wherever she is. So far, our surveillance has never seen them out by themselves, except during the day." He passed around the gathered intelligence while he continued. "During the daytime is another matter though. Charlie will be on that detail. You're main target is the witch during daylight hours."
"I guess the vampire is pretty much contained during the day," Nate Jones said, looking at the surveillance reports.
"Not necessarily," Riley told him. "We've had reports that the witch was able to alter the environment enough for a vampire to attack and almost kill someone in the backyard during the middle of the day."
"The backyard?" Nate asked skeptically. "Outdoors? In the middle of the day? Is this report trustworthy?"
"The backyard," Riley answered sternly. "This backyard in fact. And we take whatever these people say as gospel until I say otherwise. Understood?"
"Yes Sir," he responded immediately, throwing out a salute. Riley nodded.
"Sam will lead Delta Company, which will mainly be communications, intel, and field support, but will serve as backup field units as needed."
"Nerds," Graham fake coughed as Sam joined them.
"Nerds that have saved your ass how many times?" she asked him. He smiled at her.
"Too many to count," he said, studying the report again. "Why does she keep visiting the cemeteries?"
"She's patrolling," Giles said, speaking up for the first time.
"Patrolling?" Nate asked, noticing the glance between the other two team leaders. "You mean killing demons? Like what we do?"
"She's still the Slayer," Giles said. "Slayers patrol and kill demons so that is what she is doing."
"Correct me if I'm wrong," Nate started, "but if she's killing demons, why are we trying to stop her? From everything I've ever heard of her, Buffy Summers is one of the good guys."
"She is," Giles said proudly, "one of the best. But this thing isn't her. It's the thing that killed her."
"She's a vampire," Spike spoke up. "She might be acting the Slayer right now, but eventually she'll get bored of it. Or even worse, she'll get hungry. And when that happens she'll go from hero to villain faster than a heartbeat."
"What about the witch?" Nate asked.
"She employs dark magic so she is very dangerous," Giles told them, "but so far she has been reluctant to use it, except to try and turn Buffy."
"Who is the Slayer, but not the vampire, who is a paraplegic and is missing and presumed kidnapped along with her friend Alexander Harris," Sam spoke up. "Along with their friend Willow Rosenberg, who is the younger version of the dark witch we are trying to stop, who is also missing but we are pretty sure she is in some sort of mystical prison that won't break until Dark Willow is defeated." She looked at Nate. "Didn't you read the summary I prepared?"
"That summary was real?" he asked in disbelief. "I thought you were punkin' me."
"Real and about as normal as it gets around here," Riley said, bringing the topic back on track. "Now, we know they've claimed Spike's crypt as their lair."
"Gonna take forever to get the smell of girl outta my space," Spike grumbled.
"So why don't we just attack?" Nate asked.
"Not a good idea," Graham said. "They have sewer access from the crypt so we won't be able to box them in. The magic that Willow wields is more than capable of countering any traditional assault. Their retaliation could be catastrophic."
"We don't want to force their hand until we're ready," Riley said. "They haven't seen each other in a long time. They're still very much in their honeymoon phase. What is the first thing you do when you come home from a long deployment?" He paused as his men started grinning. "Well, they're doing it. They can stay in bed making smoochies as long as they want. That gives us more time to prepare because we can't beat them on our own. As much as I hate to say this, we need demons."
"And demons you shall get," Anya said joyously. "My boss just finalized the bounty for the Order of Taraka. Soon, bounty hunters from the four corners of the globe will converge here for the chance of a lifetime."
"We're working with demons?" Nate asked in disgust.
"As much as I hate it, we can't do this on our own," Riley responded. He looked to Anya. "The terms were met fully?"
"Yes," she answered happily. "They've agreed to not attack anyone directly in the city limits, or a ten mile radius. And if they do, they will spontaneously combust." She looked over to Giles. "It's in the fine print of the contract they signed."
"Remind me never to sign anything you give me," he said to himself. "We'll need a way to identify demons we can't kill against demons we can." He turned to the military group. "The Hellmouth will still attract violent demons to it, even more when they sense the darkness The Crimson Witch and vampire Buffy have created. Some might fall under their thrall and do their bidding, though we haven't seen that yet."
"Those demons we can kill, right?" Graham asked.
"Absolutely," Giles said. "We'll need to come up with some way to differentiate demons that are here to help and demons that were pulled in by the Hellmouth's energy and are running amok."
"I'm already working on it," Anya said. "I'm thinking something like an armband or a symbol they can wear on the outside of their clothes or scales. Something with my logo on it."
"Logo?" Giles asked, giving her his full attention for the first time.
"Of course, we need something to identify our brand. Spike, show him." Spike sighed but pulled off his leather duster and turned his back. On his white T-shirt they could see the scales of justice crudely drawn with a sharpie. But instead of the scales being even, they were tipping heavily to the right. "I even have a motto. 'If you can't get justice in your world, come to mine.' What do you think?"
"I am speechless," Giles answered honestly. Anya beamed.
"This is a fuckin circus," Nate swore. "We are elite soldiers in the US Army, sworn to protect this land and its allies. We don't work with demons, we kill them. And we certainly don't need anyone's help to take out a vampire and a witch. I don't care what you say."
"Then care about this," Riley yelled at him. "During the last three days, when all we've done is watch them, I've lost four good men. Two of them are in the hospital; one will probably never walk again. One guy was teleported away by Willow. We eventually found him, in the middle of a prison in Mexico. The State Department is still trying to get him out. And the fourth guy was in the morgue because he thought he had everything under control and didn't need help."
"Was?" Nate gulped.
"I staked him myself," Riley whispered harshly. "And that was when they were just having fun. When the real fight begins, you'll be wishing for any sort of backup you can get. Do you copy?"
"Yes Sir." Nate answered automatically.
"Good," Riley said. He turned back to his troops. "Before she was turned, Buffy Summers did a brief stint with the Initiative. On a routine capture drill, she was able to evade me and my team for over thirty minutes, and then when she finally let us get near her, she disabled all of my men, including me, in under thirty seconds. And that was when she didn't want to hurt us. That will no longer be the case."
"Right now these missions are recon only," Sam said, picking up the thread. "Everyone wears a body cam. If there are any weaknesses my team will find them."
"Recon only means you do not fight them unless they become an obvious threat to the safety of the civilian population. And that does include the demons living peacefully here." Everybody nodded. "Team leaders. Feel free to organize and distribute personnel as needed. Dismissed." Everyone saluted then slowly trickled back up the stairs until only Riley and Sam remained. "How was I?"
"You almost seemed like you knew what you were doing," Giles teased him. Riley smiled.
"Coming from you that is quite the compliment." They looked up when they heard people coming down the stairs. Joyce and Tara joined them.
"I take it the meeting's over?" Joyce asked.
"Yes Ma'am," Riley said. Joyce looked to Sam.
"I'm sorry Ms. Summers," she said sincerely, "there hasn't been any sign of your daughter or Mr. Harris. We're looking at footage from all over the world, but so far it's been a bust." Joyce sighed.
"Thank you for trying," she said.
"I promise, as soon as we have something I will let you know."
"Have you tried looking here?" Anya asked. "The easiest place to hide something is in plain sight."
"No," she frowned. "We kept getting hits when we loaded up the surveillance footage from here, but it was for the vampire version."
"Try again," Riley told her. "We know the vampire's exact location every minute for the last three days. Maybe we'll get lucky and get a hit that is not where she was."
"It's worth a shot," she said. She looked around quickly before giving her husband a quick kiss and then returning to their camp. Riley sighed.
"I don't know how we can stop them Giles," he admitted. "We'll probably be able to take vampire Buffy down once demons get here to help, but I have no idea how to stop Willow. We've never had much success fighting against magic."
"Leave Willow to us," Giles said. "You just focus on Buffy."
"I have an idea that might help," Tara spoke up. "If Dark Willow is using magic to protect Buffy against Willow's magic, I might be able to do the same. I might be able to enchant amulets to protect your troops against some of Dark Willow's magic. At least for a while."
"Any advantage you can give us I will be happy to take," Riley grinned at her.
"When were you afraid of Willow's magic?" Anya asked. "There's no way you could have prepared protective spells overnight. You need in depth knowledge of someone's magic to do that." Tara blushed and looked down.
"When we were fighting Glory," she admitted. "Willow was getting so powerful so fast. I was afraid she was losing herself in the magic, but she blew me off every time I tried to talk to her about it. Eventually I started studying it so I could counter it if I needed to. I was even afraid that I would need to leave her. Then I got brainsucked by Glory. The next thing I knew, it was like she was a completely different person. She started listening to me, going back and mastering the basics, and not using magic for everyday things. I'm not sure what brought on the change, but I'm thankful."
"That was me," Anya smiled. "I talked to her. You're welcome."
"Thank you," Tara smiled at Anya before turning back to Riley. "I'll see what I can do for protective charms."
"Thanks," he told her. He turned to Giles. "Maybe I can borrow Faith for some Slayer combat training? Some of my men might have the wrong impression of why we're here. Having Faith knock them on their butts might help their attitude."
"I'll pass along the request," Giles said.
"I better be getting back to the troops," Riley said, but Spike stopped him after a few steps.
"There's one more thing you need to know, mate," Spike said. "I know you and the Slayer had a fling once upon a time. And I know that you're a happily married man and would never cheat on your wife or act on old feelings you have for an old girlfriend."
"Are you giving me the shovel talk?" Riley asked in amusement.
"Not in the way you're thinking," Spike admitted. "When you're turned, the first thing you destroy are any ties to your human life. Family, friends, acquaintances. Anyone that brings even the smallest sense of humanity is horrifying to a vampire. I've heard of vampires that have wiped out entire villages just so they won't be reminded of their human past."
"So?" Riley asked, his face twisting in confusion.
"You and the Slayer had a thing," Spike said again. "Now, throughout the years it might not have ranked in the top ten things that have ever happened to her, and when she changed it might not have made her blood boil so much that she needed to hunt you down and kill you just to stop those pesky human emotions, but she will see you eventually. When she does, if she has any leftover feelings for you at all, it might trigger her demonic need to erase any ties to humanity."
"So she might be gunning for me," Riley summarized. Spike nodded.
"More than likely," Spike agreed. "But of course, I could be wrong. Time makes even the sharpest memories fade eventually. Things you swear you will never forget become meaningless dribble after awhile. Who knows where you'll fall."
"Thanks for the warning," he said, holding out his hand to Spike. Spike studied him intently before taking it. "I better get back."
Xander stared at the man coming through the door in shock. "Are you here to rescue us?" he asked, but by the flat tone of his voice he knew that wasn't the case. The detective chuckled as he headed over to the laptop.
"After all the work I did to get you here?" Kestrel asked as he booted up the computer.
"Didn't think so," Xander said, pulling Buffy tighter to him. Buffy stared at the new arrival curiously.
"Don't worry," Kestrel said as he took a seat behind the computer. It started booting up and he turned his attention to them. "I won't hurt you. In fact, I want to help you."
"Because kidnappings always lead to warm, fuzzy feelings," Xander scoffed. Kestrel chuckled again.
"I see your point," he admitted. "But to be fair, you were never the target." He moved the chair from behind the desk until he was directly in front of them. "I honestly thought it would be a lot easier to get her. She was abandoned in New York for seven months. Sure, her mother found her and whisked her away, but I never dreamed she would have this sort of security. She is never alone, not even for a second unless she's in that fortress you call a home."
"We protect our family," Xander declared firmly.
"Does she even know how well protected she is?" Kestrel asked. Xander looked at the form in his arms. She had lost interest in their visitor and was looking at a water bottle longingly. Xander reached out and grabbed it, handing it to her carefully.
"No," he admitted as she took a couple gulps before offering it to him. He shook his head and she recapped the bottle, putting it off to the side before resting her head on his heart. He looked back at Kestrel. "Why are you doing this?" He smiled and pulled the chair back behind the desk.
"You see everything in New York City," he explained as he fiddled with the computer. "From a seven year old kid who stabs his mother just to see what it felt like all the way to a group of tourists who shoot up an alleyway because a zombie walk was happening and they thought the zombie apocalypse was upon them. Nothing surprises me anymore." He paused as he opened up a program. "You also hear all kinds of excuses. Voices made me do it. He had it coming because he looked at me funny. It wasn't me because I was abducted by aliens when that guy was killed." He looked to Xander. "My favorite excuses were always the crazy ones, the ones that nobody believes. The witchcraft ones. The ritualistic ones. Demon worship and astral bodies aligning a certain way mean that you have to kill forty-five people by Thursday or the world is going to be sucked into a Hell dimension where there is no grass. Crazy stuff, right?"
"Right," Xander said, because he was obviously supposed to agree at that point.
"Every cop also has a case that just gets to them," he continued. "Mine was The Ring." Xander sat up straighter. "At first it looked like a pretty basic prostitution ring. The Johns were getting rounded up, along with the pimps. Usually the Johns would flip first, giving us information on the pimps that we use to either prosecute them or entice them to flip on the big bosses. Routine stuff. Then I noticed something strange.
"The Johns were flipping, but none of the pimps were biting. They sat there with their high-priced lawyers saying we had nothing on them because their lords, the Dark Devils of Staten Island, would protect them. Crazy right?"
"Crazy," Xander repeated again.
"And then a really weird thing happened. They were right. Their high-priced lawyers found loopholes that kept them out of jail every single time. We had to let them all go, only one or two of them flipped on their big bosses. One or two was all we needed to shift our focus to the big bosses, but I kept track of everybody because this became the case I couldn't let go. We initially arrested sixty-six Johns. We flipped forty-seven of them. The day we released them, each of them fell into financial ruin. Billion dollar stock portfolios failed overnight. Investments souring unexpectedly. Products failing. Legal troubles sprouting out of nowhere. It's like they were cursed. By the next month, everyone who flipped had committed suicide.
"The Johns that didn't flip were just as unfortunate. Promising careers vanished in a heartbeat. Public trust gone so they were let go from their employers. Trust funds disappearing in red tape. They lasted two months before they were all dead. Some from self-inflicted wounds, others from accidents, others from violence directed towards them.
"The pimps lasted a few more months. Even the big bosses were starting to feel the pain. And then Joyce Summers came and rescued her daughter and this huge case got an international bump in a way I've never seen before. I tracked down all the places this case led and I found in the days after the bust, that same pattern was happening all over the world. First the Johns, then the pimps, and last the big bosses. Crazy right?"
"Sounds kinda chaotic to me," Xander said, grinning crazily. To him, it sounded like Ethan added a little something to his spell work he did for The Ring.
"Perhaps," Kestrel conceded. He fiddled on the computer once more, than watched something on the screen. "But it got me thinking. The one thing all these groups from all over the world had in common is they swore some mystical being would protect them. If so many formerly upstanding members of the community believed in witchcraft and sorcery and making pacts with the devil, maybe the idea wasn't so crazy after all. So I searched, and what I found changed my life." The silence stretched before them. Kestrel gave his full attention to the computer screen. After a few minutes, grunts and moans could be heard faintly, though they were getting louder all the time.
Xander blushed when he realized what he was hearing just as the detective pulled his zipper down. He put his hands over Buffy's ears, pushing her head closer into his body than ever before, desperate to shield her from what was happening. Thankfully, the desk blocked his view, so he could only hear the detective as he pleasured himself. A loud moan filled the air. Xander's blush paled when he realized the girl he was holding in his arms was one of the performers on the screen. He held her tighter, determined to shield her from this. He had to endure this for several more minutes before the detective came with a grunt. A minute later, he grabbed some tissues and cleaned himself before pausing the video. He zipped up and came around the desk to the bars again. Xander instinctively threw Buffy behind him.
"Like I said," Kestrel began, "you were not the target. Say the word, and I'll arrange for you to go home tomorrow, safe and sound."
"And leave Buffy here, alone, with you?" Xander spat, anger radiating off him. "Go to Hell."