After Adam's defeat, the spoils of the 314 project are up for grabs. Spike & Willow find themselves at the centre of a web of intrigue.

Disclaimer: Any characters and locations from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series are the property of Mutant Enemy

Chapter 16: Out of the frying pan, into the fire.

Spike was hoping to make a clean getaway. The woman didn't seem like a fool so he assumed that she would have done something about the security cameras on the cellblock before coming down to make her offer. He also assumed that Nat would be able to keep her occupied for some considerable time. In the latter case it appeared that he was mistaken, for alarm bells started sounding no more than a few of minutes after his escape from the cell. Once he heard them he knew that he needed some sort of diversion if he was going to get out of the place without being re-apprehended. It was fortunate, therefore, that his knowledge of the installation had not solely been gathered from his days as a Reculance employee, but also upon the period of time that he had been working with Adam. That meant that he knew where to find the security system over-ride controls and how to put them to good use in a situation such as this.

With as much haste as possible without attracting undue attentions, Spike followed the white corridors until he reached a familiar, if unmarked door. He slipped inside and, to his pleasure, found that the secondary control room was still there. Less fortunately, someone of the human persuasion occupied the room but he hadn't noticed Spike yet, being occupied with what appeared to be malfunctioning TV monitors. In the old days Spike would have simply snapped his neck before he had as chance to notice him, but these days he had to resort to subterfuge.

Running his hands through his hair he pointed back at the open door and gasped, "quickly, they're everywhere."

If the man had of recognised him he'd have been stuffed, but he just looked at Spike and quickly back at the blank screens.

"Jeez, I knew there was something wrong."

Picking up a stun gun he made for the door, gesturing to Spike to follow him - which he did until the other had exited the room, at which point he slammed and locked the door behind him.

"Hey! What's going on?"

Spike heard the angry exclamation from the other side as the guard realised that he'd been had, followed by muffled banging on the door. Blanking the sound out he quickly ran through the series of commands he had once memorised just in case - a series of commands that opened every door in the complex, including those in the cellblock. Then he sat back to wait for the chaos that would certainly ensue, hoping that this particular plan would serve him better than the late and unlamented one who had originally devised it.

He couldn't tell what was happening out there because of the woman's tinkering with the cameras, but the banging faded away and was followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. He walked to the door and, pressing his ear against it, listened for the slightest sound in his vicinity. There was none. He opened the door a crack and, having assured himself that the corridor was empty, stepped outside.

Unfortunately the control room he had just left wasn't any handier for the exits than the cell block had been and Spike was aware that he had a considerable amount of enemy territory to cross before he could get out of the place. He would just have to hope that the diversion he had set up would be sufficient to cover his escape. He thought it would be, given that the majority of the guards had been among the undead. The critical question was how many of those on the other side had been given the drug. If there were enough of the pseudo-supermen around, the boys might be rounded up too quickly. It was a shame in a way that he'd had to sacrifice Nat - Adam had been right when he had identified the crucial role that a leader played in a mêlée.

Still, as he travelled the corridors the evidence he gradually came across appeared encouraging. The bodies, one recognisable as the guard he had come across earlier, certainly outnumbered the piles of dust - though the efficiency of the air conditioning system could account for that and he had no idea whether the humans would go for kill or catch.

A number of times the sounds of battle grew progressively closer and then receded as Spike made his way through the complex, though he never saw any of the actual fighting. The tiled floor changed to soft carpeting and the lighting became softer, which meant that he was near the executive suites now. That was something that didn't appeal to him much but was unavoidable unless he wanted to get caught up in the struggle.

Suddenly a door just behind him opened and he heard the hearty and faintly accented voice that had, not so long ago, been condemning him to a short and painful existence as a lab rat.

"Leaving us just when the fun is starting?"

Spike knew there was no point running. He had seen Rauk's reflexes earlier and could bet that he'd easily run him down before he'd reached the end of this corridor, let alone made it to the comparative safety of the outside world. Instead, he stopped and turned to face the owner of the voice. Rauk was, as ever, relaxed and smiling but there was something calculating in the way that he was eyeing him up.

Suddenly Spike heard footsteps behind him and whirled round as several armed men stepped round the corner of the corridor. Behind him, Rauk's voice continued.

"Your revolt was a brave effort, but my men have contained it. You didn't think that your kind were the only fighters around here? Those of your friends who are left are being escorted back to the cells even as we speak. But then, you won't be shedding any tears, will you?"

Spike turned back. "Nope."

"You're not much of a team player, are you Spike?"

Spike spread his hands. "Not really my forté, mate."

"No, it's not. That's why I've had my eye on you ever since Nat suggested you join us...pity about Nat, he was useful."

Spike assumed that the man referred to his own decision to sacrifice Nat along with the rest of the vampires, since he presumably didn't know of the part Spike had played in Nat's apparent destruction. Playing safe, he shrugged and said nothing.

Rauk continued, "Still, initiative like yours deserves to be rewarded," he gestured towards the door to his office, " why don't you step inside?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, no."

Spike walked past him into the office and found that he was not the only guest, for the woman was reclining on the sofa. She looked a little more dishevelled than when they had last met, but that was hardly surprising.

Rauk had followed Spike into the room and now spoke. "My dear, we have a guest. Why don't you pour him a drink? Something a bit special."

She rose to her feet and walked over to the sideboard, where an opened bottle of Krug was waiting on ice. Her gait was a little unsteady and Spike noticed that the heel on one of her court shoes was broken. Cursing quietly under her breath she kicked off first the offending shoe and then the other before pouring the golden liquid into three glasses. She handed one to each of them and then returned for her own.

Rauk smiled at the two of them "Now that the fracas is over, I thought a little celebration was in order."

The woman raised her glass to him and, with a "cheers", tossed it back. Part of Spike winced at the sight of a fine champagne being treated in such a cavalier fashion. He himself sipped the sparkling liquid, savouring the subtle flavours of dried figs and ripe quince as they burst upon his palate until Rauk told him to drink up. He complied and Rauk smiled at him like the cat that killed the canary.

"Congratulations at being the first to test the antidote, Spike. Your name will be remembered."

Spike gagged, clutching his throat with one hand and hurling his glass away with the other. It hit the edge of a table and the fine crystal shattered into a thousand pieces.

Rauk's voice continued relentlessly. "I look forward to observing the effect. The subjects who had been given the original drug lost their immortal life at the same speed that they had gained it. They literally shrivelled up in front of my eyes. We think it'll be slower with true immortals; a gradual ageing that could take hours. Do you feel anything yet?"

Spike didn't reply, instead sinking to the ground and thrusting his fingers down his throat to try and rid his body of the drug.

"That won't help, it's absorbed into the blood-stream almost immediately" said the woman as she stepped round Spike's crouching body to hand a refilled glass to Rauk.

"To you Georg."

He raised his glass to her,"to us, my dear, and to all the time in the world" and drained it in one long draught.

Suddenly Rauk screamed and dropped his glass. Clutching at the woman he cried, "what have you done?" Smiling, she shrugged off his grasping hands as if they were nothing and stepped away.

Rauk began to age before Spike's eyes. The cherubic roundness of his face seemed to shrink as his skin clung to suddenly prominent bones. He screamed again, clutching at his head with hands that seemed more skeletal by the second, and showers of golden ringlets fell unheeded to the floor. Then his knees gave way and he fell, writhing, to the floor. He seemed to be shrinking away inside his clothes as his skin and muscles withered and dried. Still he screamed - a raw mindless sound now - and his eyes rolled wildly in his oversized skull. Finally the sound died as the body folded in upon itself, skin blackening as if burned and crumbling away from startlingly white bones.

The woman laughed, drained her glass and dropped it onto the pile. Then she turned to Spike who still crouched on the carpet and said "Are you still here?"

Spike stumbled to his feet and ran for the door, but the woman had not yet had her last word:

"Remember...you can run, but you can't escape. The clock is ticking."

All he knew was that he had to get out of this madhouse and find someone that could help him while there was still time.