A/N.- This is chapter Eighteen of the ENOUGH series. Thanks to all who have read this story and reviewed. One thing, this will be a long chapter since I had already written it but it was destroyed when my computer crashed. This is a kinda new and improved chapter. Hang in there with me, please.
Disclaimer.- You all should know this belongs to Joss Whedon and the parties involved in getting this show on the air.
Feedback.- As you wish. Ok, now I will take the time to thank all of you who have reviewed. These people have been nice enough to write a review. Thank you. It really helps someone who is writing his ideas.Of course, I'll use the names that appear on the reviews.
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Thank you all for writing a review or an email.
On with the story.
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The Council
He stood before the enormous buidling. Had he been a fledgling he would have run, scared of the magics that were felt coming from the insides of the structure. But he was not a fledgling and there were very few things that he was afraid of.
An ancient building and a bunch of watchers were not one of them.
He had to pretend, of course. The whole plan depended on pretentions. So he 'pretended' to be a customer looking at the library that was probably the cover of the Council. What better way to have their books on the open and keeping a secret as well. Now he had to wait for his opening. He felt the small object that was on his pants' pocket. It was still there. That was his passport to his plan. Now all he had to do was wait.
He didn't have to wait for long, for his prey soon appeared. A group of men, all dressed exactly as he remeber Giles did in the early days. They were perfect. Four old men. He continued his pretense of being an interested client and walked in at the same moment that the four men did. He timed his move perfectly, and as soon as he stepped through the threshold he bumped into one of the old men, and squished at the same time the package he had in his pocket.
"Oh, I'm sorry, sir," Spike said, as he fixed his clothes. The old man just looked back and smiled.
"Not a problem, young man."
Spike smiled a bit. His plan worked out perfectly. He was inside the building. On with the next phase. He had at least two or three hours. Carefully keeping appereances, there was a librarian. A woman. A pretty woman actually, on her early thirties, by the look of it. A watcher probably. Her hair was dark brown, and it was tied on a tight bun on the back of her head. Her eyes were dark green. She was wearing one of those dresses that he thought were standard in all of watcher's fashion.
He approached her and smiled at her.
"Good morning, could you help me?" Spike asked the woman. She looked up and smiled as well.
"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?" She replied.
"I called yesterday, I'm looking for Ms. Grisham." Spike said.
"Well, you found her." The woman said, still smiling. Spike grinned even more. Things were working out smoothly.
"Oh, allow me to introduce myself," Spike said, and extended his hand, "I'm Kenneth Kipling."
"Ah, yes, Mr. Kipling," the woman said, and shook hands with Spike, "we did talk yesterday, you called about a book right?"
"Yes," Spike answered, "you told me you did have it."
"Of course," Ms. Grisham said, and she stood up, "please follow me, it's on an upper level."
Spike nodded and followed her. After climbing the stairs, they arrived on the third level. An eventuality that Spike hadn't predicted. Should he need to escape, a third floor was not a good thing. He didn't allow that to distract him and he instead began looking for escape roots. The woman stopped and looked at him.
"It was Principles of Ancient Symerian, wasn't it?" She asked.
"Yes," Spike nodded, "I need it to translate a certain reference I found in a book."
"All right, just wait a second." The woman walked around a huge structure and began looking for the book. Spike waited patiently and after a few minutes the woman walked back carrying an old and tattered book.
"It's an old book so I won't be able to lend it to you," she said, "but you can always look at it here, in one of or research tables."
"I'd prefer a more private space, if you may." Spike said. The woman smiled at him, and so did he. She just nodded and motioned for him to follow her.
"We have some private rooms a floor below," she said, " that is allright with you?"
"Yes, thank you." Spike said. They walked down the stairs and headed to said private rooms. After some time, Spike decided it was time to throw the bait.
"It's hard to decipher this text," he said, "I believe you mentioned someone who was an expert who might help me. Trevor, I think?"
"Travers," the woman said, "Quentin Travers, he is fluid in ancient Symerian."
"Uhm, could he help me out with this?" Spike asked. He noted the certain hesitation in the woman's posture. Such an important figure was not supposed to do such things. Yet, Spike was counting that they'd go to far extents in order to mantain appereances.
"Usually, Mr. Travers isn't available for research, being the head librarian in here, but I believe he'll want to help," she said, "he's always interested in translating old manuscripts."
Ms. Grisham left the room and went looking for Travers. Spike was now again looking at his options. He had seen the emergency exit. Should Travers recognize him, then he'd kill the bastard and make a run for it. Again, that would ruin the whole plan so he just hoped for the best.
After some minutes, Ms. Grisham entered. Alone. Spike cursed mentally. This was not part of the plan.
"He's on his way down," the woman said, "he was on a meeting. He'll be here in a few minutes."
Spike smiled. Those were good news. They got engaged in small talk and after ten minutes, Quentin Travers appeared on the door, followed by two more men. Bodyguards, Spike assumed.
"Wait outside, gentlemen." Travers said, as he walked into the room.
"Mr. Travers, this is Mr. Kenneth Kipling," the woman said, signaling Spike. The vampire stood up and extended his hand towards the watcher.
"Good morning, Mr. Travers." Spike said. Travers shook hands with him and stared for a moment at the man in front of him. Spike measured the danger and a million possibilities ran through his mind.
"Have we met before?" Travers asked. Spike decided to go on the non-violent approach.
"I work at a small library two blocks away," Spike said, "I walk around everyday, probably we have bumped into each other before."
"Ah, yes," Travers said, having his curiosity satisfied, "I was told you needed help with a translation?"
Spike nodded and proceeded to show Travers his manuscript. After some minutes of talking and exchanging ideas, Spike noticed that Travers was seeing through his charade. It was time to unload the big guns.
"Tell me something, Mr. Travers," Spike said, "talking as businessmen insted of librarians, to whom should I talk here if I wanted to acquire certain books?"
Travers looked intently at him. Spike kept his cool and once again ran through his mind all the options he had.
"It's highly irregular that someone should ask that," Travers said, "most of our volumes and books are not for sale."
Time to go for everything.
"Would you consider it if there were an interesting amount of money?" Spike asked, hoping to appeal to the watcher's greed. It seemed to work a bit, because Travers' expression changed.
"It certainly would depend on how interesting the amount would be." The watcher answered.
"Let me show you," Spike said, and he took out a printed paper he had folded in one of his pockets, "I'm interested in this volumes." Spike placed the paper on the table and wrote something in it before handing it to Travers. The watcher read the paper and looked back at Spike.
"These are very wierd volumes, " the man said, "and you would be willing to pay this amount you wrote on the bottom of the paper? You have this amount?"
"Presently? No," Spike said, "but I won't be paying this. I represent a certain individual who has a certain liking for this type of books."
"And this individual is willing to pay this for the three books?" Travers asked.
"He or she is willing to pay that amount for each book." Spike said. He hoped that the lie would increase the interest that Travers was showing.
It seemed to work, because Travers leaned towards Ms. Grisham and showed her the paper. The woman's eyes lit up and smiled at Travers.
"I believe that something could be arranged," Travers said, and turned towards Ms. Grisham, "could you locate Mrs. Straub and tell her to come here?"
Ms. Grisham nodded and left the room. Spike once again was forced to engage in small talk with a man he hated. Some time later, Ms. Grisham returned with a very beautiful blonde woman walking next to her. This woman had blond, long hair, which she had let loose that day. She wore glasses, which disguised a bit her blue eyes. The woman was indeed beautiful, but Spike had other things in mind.
"Mr. Kipling, meet Mrs. Anna Straub." Spike stood up and shook hands with the blonde woman, who seemed to be only a bit older than the scoobies.
"A pleasure to meet you." Mrs. Straub said. Spike just smiled.
"The pleasure's all mine." The blonde sat down with them and Ms. Grisham handed her the paper that Spike had given them earlier.
"Mr. Kipling has a certain interest in some of our books," Ms. Grisham said, "and he is willing to offer a certain amount for the volumes he specifies in this paper."
Mrs. Straub read the paper and mimicking Travers' reaction, her eyes lit up when she saw the number written on the bottom of the page.
"You are willing to pay this amount for the three books?" The blonde asked. Spike smiled, but it was Travers who answered the question.
"He has a certain sponsor who is willing to pay that amount for each book separately."
Mrs. Straub was now certainly intrigued by the idea.
"You see, Mr. Kipling," Travers said, "Mrs. Straub is our general accountant, and she handles all the monetary and financial operations inside our library. She is the person to talk to, should you want to acquire one of our volumes."
Spike smiled. He had placed the bait and the prey had bitten. Now he had to pull the line and it the trap would close.
"So, we have reached an understanding?" Spike asked. The three watchers in front of him looked at each other, and smiled and nodded at each other.
"I believe something might be arranged." Travers answered, "may I ask you when could you pay for your purchase?"
"I could give you a part right now and then after recieving the books, my sponsor would finish paying." Spike said.
"So you have a part of this amount on you right now?" Mrs. Straub asked.
"Certainly not," Spike answered, "I wouldn't risk walking around with such quantities in my pocket. I have left it on my apartment, and another part of it on a bank."
"Could such parts be obtained today?" Travers asked. Spike knew that was his cue. He had played his cards correctly and now everything was in place.
"Of course," Spike said, "should I go get it or do you want to come with me?" The question was issued with the hope that none of them trusted him. Should they trust in him, the whole plan would crash and burn.
"If there is not a problem, we'd like to send someone with you." Travers said, "Mrs. Grisham, would you go with him?"
Spike wasn't pleased with that development.
"I'd rather have you or Mrs. Straub come with me," Spike said, "after all, we both need a certain reassurance that the deal will be kept."
Travers looked at him, and seemed to weigh the options on his mind.
"Very well," Travers finally said, "Mrs. Straub and myself will join you, but there will be another person coming with us." He stood up, opened the door and motioned for one of his bodyguards to approach.
"Go and find Mr. Michener," Travers said, "tell him we need an escort."
The bodyguard nodded and walked away. Spike again smiled to himself, everything was working out perfectly. This time he didn't have to wait that much, because the man that Travers required appeared almost immediately. The man was taller than Spike. He wore a black suit over a black shirt. He had short black hair and it was slicked back. The man had the appearance of a hitman instead that of a watcher.
"You sent for me, Mr. Travers?" The man asked. Travers nodded and invited him to walk inside the room.
"Yes, Michener, I called for you," Travers said, "I want you to escort us outside."
"Mr. Michener is our security chief, " Ms. Grisham said, "I know you won't believe that a library should need a security system, but we have very valuable volumes in here."
Spike nodded, and introduced himself to the man.
"I'm Kenneth Kipling," Spike said, "pleased to meet you."
Michener only stared at him, nodded and shook hands with him. Spike was surprised by the strenght that the man had. Had he not been a vampire the man would have hurt him. Spike let go of his hand and looked at the three watchers that were to escort him in his way to get the money.
"Shall we, then?" Spike said. All of them nodded and walked away. Spike looked at his watch, 10:02 am. He had lost quite some time laying the trap. Ms. Grisham said her goodbyes and walked back to her post. Four of them then walked towards the outside. Spike noticed the rainy day and saw that the weather was still playing its part. As soon as the four of them were outside the bulding, he would have already won the game.
The four of them stepped outside the building and stared at Spike.
"Where to, Mr. Kipling?" Travers asked.
"This way," Spike signaled them to his right, "follow me."
They all began walking, following Spike's lead, who in turn was taking extra care to look and see if anyone was following them. Soon, he noticed that having Michener there had been an advantage. Travers and Mrs. Straub felt safe with their security chief with them.
Spike smiled. They were a few feet away from the final trap.
"We'll take a left through here," Spike said, "the library is just around the corner."
And it was true. The library was just in sight as soon as the three watchers took the left. But they never reached the library. The first to disappear was Mrs. Straub, having fallen into the fake lid that covered the open sewer. When Travers and Michener rushed to help her, they were knocked out by a swift swat to the back of their heads.
The bystanders in downtown London never noticed when the four figures disappeared into the sewers.
End of Chapter.
