The warehouse loomed up ahead, giving out an eerie aura of evil. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Xander Harris hefted the highly-illegal Ithaca Mag-3 10-guage shotgun. It wasn't the gun itself that was illegal, but the fact that the barrel had been sawed down 20-inches and that it had been expanded to carry seven 10-guage shells. It now held double-aught buckshot, the most powerful shell, and it would blow the head of a vampire clean off its shoulders.
The interior of the Honda Civic was surprisingly spacious, the windows rolled down to provide the cool night air access into the grimy white car. Harris currently occupied the shotgun seat, or the front passenger seat. The powerful shotgun lay in his lap, his concentration now occupied on the Smith & Wesson. It was a pointless action. He had checked and re-checked three times before having Kalman Ling pull to a stop before the warehouse. It did, however, help to reduce the tension.
Sighing, he glanced over at his Chinese partner.
"So…tell me again, how do we kill a vampire?" Asked Ling nervously, his fingers expertly racking a round into the chamber of the Heckler & Koch UMP .45 caliber sub-machine gun.
Sighing, Harris again glanced over at the warehouse.
"Stick a wooden stake through its heart, set it on fire, or blow its friggin' head off."
Ling glanced down at the UMP, quietly praying that the hollowpoints would be able to do the job.
"So…it's, like, not that hard, right?"
"Jesus," Muttered Harris, spinning around to face his partner. "You're telling me that you've had a Tilod demon bite you in the ass and that you've kicked a Polgara demon in its green, slimy balls…but you've never encountered a freaking vampire?"
"You just figured that part out?" Muttered Ling, turning away, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Silence again reined in the car as stuffed a pile of wooden stakes inside the pocket of his worn-out leather jacket, patting the ceramic tiles woven throughout the coat.
Xander gazed longingly forward…to his hometown. To Sunnydale.
It had been two days since the briefing in Hong Kong, and here they were. Intel had suggested that the warehouse contained a small nest of vampires, one of the more minor 'Vampire Resource Centres' that Marcus Jennings had put into use. They weren't big, and finishing these off would put a mere dent in Jennings' organization, but it would provide the locations of other weak spots where more substantial dents could be made
His eyes stared at the horizon. The sun was setting…it was beautiful. Even the mere sight of Sunnydale brought him back to a whirlwind of emotional pain. So much had happened here. The four years he had been gone seemed like ten lifetimes to him. It had been a young, heartbroken Xander who had left and it was a battle-hardened warrior who had returned. Guilt coursed through him…what would Buffy think? Or Willow, his absolute bestest friend in the world? What of Giles, the man he had grown to love as his own father, or Dawn, who had looked up to him? Hell, even Spike…
Covering up his pain with a smile, Xander popped open the glove compartment, his fingers closing around the elegant silver flask. He'd bought it in Saigon during his stay there as a member of the elite Navy SEALs. It reminded him of the cynical, bleach-haired vampire…and of home.
Staring at it, Xander finally brought it to his lips, tilting his head back, savouring the bitter liquid that rushed down his throat.
"You know," Broke Kalman's voice through Harris's moment of bliss. "It's against protocol."
A pained grin on his face, Xander waved his fist before his friend, the middle finger extended.
"Don't even try it. I ain't givin' you a swig."
Just then, both timers on both watches beeped. The two soldiers glanced quickly to their cheap Timex watches. All humour gone from their faces, they looked stonily at each other before kicking open the doors.
The thud of two pairs of combat-booted feet echoing against the night seemed impossibly loud to Xander, but he knew that it was just his raised perception. Deeping in slowly…calming himself as he had been taught by his boxing coach during that all-so-brief boxing career, Xander waited for his friend to catch up. The ache in his side had fallen to a dull thud, thanks to the ultra-strong painkillers. But now, fully pumped up, he could barely feel the pain.
Their weapons cradled loosely in their arms, the two soldiers spread out, walking briskly towards the warehouse.
"Showtime." Muttered Xander, bracing the shotgun against his hip. "Hope the other actors can survive…or not."
The two had agreed to avoid the main door, seeing that it was reinforced alloy. Yet the two side doors were of lighter steel…easier to open once they shot the locks open.
A small staircase stood before him, leading to the side door. His boots clomped quietly against the steel steps. His heart beating like a hammer against his ribs, Xander angled the powerful shotgun at the knob of the door. His fingers rose to check the cotton wads inserted in his ears before he braced the shotgun. Finally, he jerked back on the trigger. The Ithaca had one hell of a recoil, but forcefully, he managed to control it. As he roughly kicked the door open, he heard the tell-tale staccato burst of Ling's UMP.
The two soldiers entered at the same moment, their minds now functioning like a computer. 'Combat data' streamed through at an amazing rate.
There were a dozen vampires, all of them frozen in shock. Five stood in a clump, playing a game of cards. A vampire stood off to the side, a mere four meters from Xander, smoking a big cigar. Right next to Kalman stood two vampires in the middle of a heated discussion. The other four stood on a catwalk…feeding.
Fury seeped through Xander at the sight of the diabolical beasts on the catwalk, but first things first. Spinning gracefully on the balls of his feet, Harris angled the shotgun at the surprised vampire. The cigar began its descent to the ground as the vampire morphed into its game face, lunging wildly at the soldier the same instant. The shotgun bucked wildly in his arms, the double-aught totally taking off its head. Gore flew everywhere before it turned into a pile of dust.
On the other side of the warehouse, Ling twisted his upper body about, the UMP held at eye-level. The sub-gun stuttered as a torrent of 230-grain bullets ripped through the two vampires before they knew what hit them. Two headless bodies lurched to the side, blood, skull fragments, and brain matter splashing across the concrete surface.
By then, the remaining nine vampires had recovered from the shock. Loud growls ripping from their mouths, three vampires lunged from their flimsy seats. Coolly, Kalman hosed a narrow figure-8, watching as the hollowpoints took the heads of a double pair of bloodsuckers. The third vampire rushed Ling at a superhuman speed. Most men would have been unnerved by such a display of physical tenacity. He wasn't most men.
The vampire was within arm's reach by now, and Ling knew it was impossible to get off another burst. The UMP dropped to a stop, swinging by its sling. The vampire had the advantage of superior strength and speed. He did not, however, know had to properly incorporate those aspects.
A fist shot forward as Ling twisted down, snaring the wrist as he began a judo hip throw. At the last moment, however, Kalman brought his elbow back viciously into the bridge of the vampire's nose. As the bloodsucker stumbled back, the soldier viciously stomped down upon the bloodsucker's kneecap, smiling mirthlessly as a scream of pain erupted from its mouth. The vampire stumbled, then collapsed into its side, writhing in pain.
As Ling's chatterbox spoke, Xander angled the shotgun down, low to the ground. Two vampires rushed him, the ones on the catwalk swiftly clambering down the stairs. The Ithaca roared, sending a slug towards the ground. It smashed into the floor before the lead vampire, causing him to stumble. No matter…that had been the plan. Riding out the recoil, Harris's next shot took the vampire in the abdomen, blowing open a huge hole. Intestines spilled from the wound, blood seeping through. The vampire, screaming, stumbled to the ground, but before he could suffer the pain any longer, Xander's third shot took him in the head, dusting him. That third shot smashed into the arm of the second vampire, the impact sending him spinning even as his arm was torn from place. The fourth shot finished that vampire, too.
'Two more shells.' Recited Xander silently as he observed the remaining four vampires, clambering down the steps.
Ling's UMP chattered but quickly died out, the hammer hitting nothing. An arrogant grin appeared on the lead vampire's face as he leapt forward, vaulting the steps. In mid-air, a blast from Xander caught him in the neck, instantly dusting him.
Kalman let the UMP drop, not bothering to fish for extra clips. Instead, his hand found the Kimber, his draw blindingly fast.
Xander's Ithaca spoke its last shell, this one grazing by its intended target, smashing into the railing.
"Shit." Muttered the soldier quietly as he let his own gun drop, going for his sidearm.
Ling's Kimber blasted twice, both bullets finding the shoulder of one vampire. He collapsed, spinning around, causing his friend to trip over him, crashing noisily to the ground. Sneering, Kalman took careful aim, easing back on the trigger. This time, the .45 caliber bullet found its mark. A hand suddenly snaked around Ling's ankle, pulling him back. Stumbling, he found his balance, whipping his head down to see the vampire he had crippled.
"Fuck you!" Spat the vampire as he smashed a fist into the Chinese soldier's leg.
Grunting, Kalman fell to the ground, the Kimber clattering against the floor.
The remaining two vampires rushed the downed soldier, .40 S&W bullets filling the air behind them. Xander's muscled legs propelled him along at a fast speed, the Smith & Wesson bucking as it spat bullet after bullet. One whipped into a vampire's butt, the humiliation quickly ending another two found his head. Cursing as he saw the final vampire nearing his friend, Xander skidded to a halt, getting into a solid weaver stance. With only one more bullet left in the chamber, Harris took careful aim, compensating for the high rate of movement. The Smith & Wesson bucked once more as the vampire disintegrated in a pile of dust.
Yet, down on the floor, Ling was having problems. His adversary seemed to have an insatiable thirst for vengeance…for maybe just for killing. A fist smashed into Kalman, sending him sliding back. Fingers curled around a metal pole as the vampire gained possession of the Kimber. Cursing, Ling whipped the pole about, wincing in horror as the pistol gave under the force of the attack, obviously breaking. Another curse left his mouth as Kalman viciously threw the pole at his opponent, glaring even as the vampire slumped to the ground, unconscious, the pole, clattering against the floor.
Silence only sat in the atmosphere of the warehouse as both men leaned back wearily, the adrenaline wearing off. Ling's hands found his back-up sidearm, a Smith & Wesson 4053-a smaller version of Xander's favoured pistol-as he crawled from the ground, leaning heavily against the railing. Breathing heavily, Xander himself replaced the spent clip, racking back the slide.
Footsteps, though obviously concealed, reached the ears of both men. Cautiously, the two glanced at one another. It wasn't the cops…they'd make an announcement of their presence. Silently, adrenaline again on overdrive, both men crept to the door, pistols at the ready. The front door suddenly burst open, a figure silhouetted against the moonlight.
Harris's tanned suddenly grew pale, his eyes widening as he recognized the figure.
"Stop!" Screamed the warrior towards his friend, watching as the trigger finger paused, a mere millimetre away from sending that figure to her death.
The silence was broken only by the heavy breathing of Xander as he looked to the equally shocked face of the newcomer.
"Did I miss something?" Asked Ling quietly, the pistol still trained on the figure.
Still, Xander ignored him.
"X…Xander?" came the weak, surprised voice, obviously taken aback by the dark-haired soldier.
A slight grin broke over his craggy features as he lowered his pistol. "Buffy." Responded Harris quietly.