Chapter 5
[A meadow in Southampton, near the shore]
"Do you see anything, Amy?" Wesley was on his knees, examining a flower with a magnifying glass. All I've spotted is some local flowers, a few weeds and a seagull.
"Nothing here. Give me a sec, I'm going 'supernatural' in a bit." She closed her eyes. "Separate." Amy was now out of her mortal body, soaring over miles of grasslands and rocky outcroppings. Getting closer.
Wesley stood near her body. He peered at the horizon and noticed a few figures. Maybe a half-dozen. Men in trenchcoats.
One crew-cut gentleman approached him. "Mr. Wyndham-Pryce?"
"Yes."
"I'm Richard. We're with MI5. A Mr. Giles sent us to assist you and ...?" He nodded at Amy's body.
"She's – umm – napping. We've had a long day of sightseeing. She's from America," Wesley replied.
"It's okay. We know all about your quest for the Arimathea Lily. We want to help you. It's our duty to protect the UK from all threats. Man-made or otherwise." Wesley noted that none of them flashed their ID badges.
In the distance he thought he saw a familiar face. He caught a glimpse of one of the agents. It's Thomas, the watcher. And associate of the chairman.
Amy had uttered: "Bind". She was in her mortal coil again. "Wesley?!"
Wesley punched the lead agent in the face, toppling him to the ground. The other watchers rushed at them. "We want them alive!!" Thomas had hollered.
"Amy. Run. Now!" Amy was rubbing her eyes, trying to shake off the effects of the spell. Wesley yanked her arm.
"Let's go! Let's go!!" They ran for a bit, but Amy stopped.
"Why, why are you stopping? It's the Watcher's Council! We have to get out of here. You do realize we're short a slayer – or an angel with a soul for that matter?!"
Amy closed her eyes. "Descend" she uttered. Thirty or forty seagulls soared away from the cliffs and dived towards the watchers. Thomas looked up. SPLAT! A seagull's droppings covered his face. The other watchers tried to shield their faces as the seagulls squawked – dropping their waste on them.
Amy hopped over a fence and jumped into the front left seat of their car. "I'll drive!" She looked ahead of her.
"I'll drive," Wesley replied as he settled in the right seat. "It's Britain, remember." The car sped around the hills and disappeared from view.
Thomas cursed. First he botched up the chairman's take-out order. I knew I shouldn't have bought cole slaw. And now they missed a chance to get the lily.
One of the watchers wiped some droppings from his hair. "What'll we do know, Thomas?"
"Stupid gull. One of the blokes bit me arse!" one watcher groaned.
"I'm hungry," another watcher complained.
"Damn. Dammit!! We're going to get some macaroni salad, that's bloody what we're doing, you stupid wankers!"
Perhaps that will pacify the chairman. Handing him the Arimathea Lily would have been better.
[Sunnydale, CA]
Willow waited for Buffy to leave for her nightly patrols. Dawn had gone to sleep and Tara was watching Letterman.
"H-hello?" she inquired on the phone. "Hellooo, helloooo?" No answer.
"Hello, hello, I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello!" Willow sang.
"Alright, alright. John and Paul, you ain't, honey." the voice on the other line said. "By the way, I just read you from your little ditty. You've got some serious relationship baggage, sis, and we're not talking Ellen and Anne Heche! Not to mention your tendency to delve into some hardcore black magics. That sort of mojo is just sooo not groovy, baby."
"Lorne!" Willow exclaimed. Angel's lounge singing, green, horned demon/therapist with insights into the supernatural realm.
"Willow, it's late. Letterman's Top Ten will be up soon. Why Nicole left Tom. Come on, you're cutting into my couch potato time!"
"Sorry!! I need your help. It's Wesley. I haven't heard from him or Amy."
Wesley. Lorne sat up. "I'm listening." Man, I sound like that pompous Frasier. No one – not even Fred – had heard from Wesley since he arrived in London. He never returned their calls.
I hope he's okay, Lorne thought.
[British Army base, Southampton]
Giles exited the chopper, covering his head as the whirr of the chopper blades swished above him. Melissa, the other MI5 agents and the watcher Roland soon followed.
Three dozen paratroopers stood at attention as their colonel inspected them.
"What's all this about?!" Giles asked.
Melissa raised her voice as the chopper blades whirred. "I'm placing these soldiers at your disposal. It seems your legendary exploits in the Falklands were enough to deluge us with volunteers. These are crack troops, fresh from the front in Afghanistan. The chairman is not to be underestimated. We'll need whatever edge we can to thwart his plan."
"To overthrow the Queen?"
"That's just breaking the surface, Mr. Giles. The Arimathea Lily is a means to an end. You do know why Joseph of Arimathea is of great interest to the Watcher's Council?"
The lily. Giles remembered some ancient readings: "'Wherever the lily lays, there shall be found the cup of everlasting life. The cup of salvation' Dear god!"
"Yes, Mr. Giles. The same cup that our Lord shared with the apostles on the Last Supper. The Holy Grail."
The chairman's plans were more insidious than Giles had thought. The holiest relic of all Christendom ... should it fall to those rogue elements of the Watcher's Council ...
"So how many of these paratroopers do you want to take with us?" Melissa asked.
"All of them. We must leave at once." He picked up a spare rifle, checked the nozzle and flicked off the safety lock. "There's much more at stake here."
[A meadow in Southampton, near the shore]
"Do you see anything, Amy?" Wesley was on his knees, examining a flower with a magnifying glass. All I've spotted is some local flowers, a few weeds and a seagull.
"Nothing here. Give me a sec, I'm going 'supernatural' in a bit." She closed her eyes. "Separate." Amy was now out of her mortal body, soaring over miles of grasslands and rocky outcroppings. Getting closer.
Wesley stood near her body. He peered at the horizon and noticed a few figures. Maybe a half-dozen. Men in trenchcoats.
One crew-cut gentleman approached him. "Mr. Wyndham-Pryce?"
"Yes."
"I'm Richard. We're with MI5. A Mr. Giles sent us to assist you and ...?" He nodded at Amy's body.
"She's – umm – napping. We've had a long day of sightseeing. She's from America," Wesley replied.
"It's okay. We know all about your quest for the Arimathea Lily. We want to help you. It's our duty to protect the UK from all threats. Man-made or otherwise." Wesley noted that none of them flashed their ID badges.
In the distance he thought he saw a familiar face. He caught a glimpse of one of the agents. It's Thomas, the watcher. And associate of the chairman.
Amy had uttered: "Bind". She was in her mortal coil again. "Wesley?!"
Wesley punched the lead agent in the face, toppling him to the ground. The other watchers rushed at them. "We want them alive!!" Thomas had hollered.
"Amy. Run. Now!" Amy was rubbing her eyes, trying to shake off the effects of the spell. Wesley yanked her arm.
"Let's go! Let's go!!" They ran for a bit, but Amy stopped.
"Why, why are you stopping? It's the Watcher's Council! We have to get out of here. You do realize we're short a slayer – or an angel with a soul for that matter?!"
Amy closed her eyes. "Descend" she uttered. Thirty or forty seagulls soared away from the cliffs and dived towards the watchers. Thomas looked up. SPLAT! A seagull's droppings covered his face. The other watchers tried to shield their faces as the seagulls squawked – dropping their waste on them.
Amy hopped over a fence and jumped into the front left seat of their car. "I'll drive!" She looked ahead of her.
"I'll drive," Wesley replied as he settled in the right seat. "It's Britain, remember." The car sped around the hills and disappeared from view.
Thomas cursed. First he botched up the chairman's take-out order. I knew I shouldn't have bought cole slaw. And now they missed a chance to get the lily.
One of the watchers wiped some droppings from his hair. "What'll we do know, Thomas?"
"Stupid gull. One of the blokes bit me arse!" one watcher groaned.
"I'm hungry," another watcher complained.
"Damn. Dammit!! We're going to get some macaroni salad, that's bloody what we're doing, you stupid wankers!"
Perhaps that will pacify the chairman. Handing him the Arimathea Lily would have been better.
[Sunnydale, CA]
Willow waited for Buffy to leave for her nightly patrols. Dawn had gone to sleep and Tara was watching Letterman.
"H-hello?" she inquired on the phone. "Hellooo, helloooo?" No answer.
"Hello, hello, I don't know why you say goodbye I say hello!" Willow sang.
"Alright, alright. John and Paul, you ain't, honey." the voice on the other line said. "By the way, I just read you from your little ditty. You've got some serious relationship baggage, sis, and we're not talking Ellen and Anne Heche! Not to mention your tendency to delve into some hardcore black magics. That sort of mojo is just sooo not groovy, baby."
"Lorne!" Willow exclaimed. Angel's lounge singing, green, horned demon/therapist with insights into the supernatural realm.
"Willow, it's late. Letterman's Top Ten will be up soon. Why Nicole left Tom. Come on, you're cutting into my couch potato time!"
"Sorry!! I need your help. It's Wesley. I haven't heard from him or Amy."
Wesley. Lorne sat up. "I'm listening." Man, I sound like that pompous Frasier. No one – not even Fred – had heard from Wesley since he arrived in London. He never returned their calls.
I hope he's okay, Lorne thought.
[British Army base, Southampton]
Giles exited the chopper, covering his head as the whirr of the chopper blades swished above him. Melissa, the other MI5 agents and the watcher Roland soon followed.
Three dozen paratroopers stood at attention as their colonel inspected them.
"What's all this about?!" Giles asked.
Melissa raised her voice as the chopper blades whirred. "I'm placing these soldiers at your disposal. It seems your legendary exploits in the Falklands were enough to deluge us with volunteers. These are crack troops, fresh from the front in Afghanistan. The chairman is not to be underestimated. We'll need whatever edge we can to thwart his plan."
"To overthrow the Queen?"
"That's just breaking the surface, Mr. Giles. The Arimathea Lily is a means to an end. You do know why Joseph of Arimathea is of great interest to the Watcher's Council?"
The lily. Giles remembered some ancient readings: "'Wherever the lily lays, there shall be found the cup of everlasting life. The cup of salvation' Dear god!"
"Yes, Mr. Giles. The same cup that our Lord shared with the apostles on the Last Supper. The Holy Grail."
The chairman's plans were more insidious than Giles had thought. The holiest relic of all Christendom ... should it fall to those rogue elements of the Watcher's Council ...
"So how many of these paratroopers do you want to take with us?" Melissa asked.
"All of them. We must leave at once." He picked up a spare rifle, checked the nozzle and flicked off the safety lock. "There's much more at stake here."