CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE: DOYLE
Wednesday: 9am
2nd September 1998
California: Los Angeles
"Okay, what the hell was that last night?" Gunn asked.
"An Octavian Fighting Arena," Doyle replied. He'd heard about these types of fighting arenas from another demon that he was acquainted with. He hadn't known that thee was one operating in the city though.
"And what exactly is that? They ain't doing that voluntarily are they?" Gunn asked.
"Do you really think Angel's daft enough to go into something like that as a volunteer?" Doyle asked.
Gunn sighed and sat back in his desk chair.
"So…how do we get him out?"
"Well, the first thing we gotta do is get him outta those wrist cuffs," Doyle said. "I just wish I could get my hands on a set."
Gunn pulled something out of his pocket. "What, this thing?"
Doyle looked at his friend, shocked. "Where the hell'd you get that?"
"Some guy was playing with one. He put it down. I pinched it. I thought it looked cool," Gunn explained with a shrug.
Doyle just shook his head and took the metal cuff from Gunn.
"It don't look like there's a clasp or nothing on this thing," he said.
"Maybe it's magic," Gunn suggested.
Doyle again looked at Gunn in shock. "Alright, who are you and what've you done with Charles Gunn? You're being far too helpful today."
Gunn grinned and took a theatrical bow from his seat. "What can I say, I like to shock people."
Doyle just fiddled with the silver wrist cuff for a moment before looking back up at Gunn.
"Looks like we'll be hitting the books."
------------------------
Three hours later, they still had yet to find anything. Gunn sighed and pushed his back away from him. He looked towards Doyle and finally spoke the question he had been wondering about since he had first seen the girl enter the arena.
"What type of demon was that girl?" he asked.
Doyle looked up, not having completely heard the question. "Huh…what girl?"
"The girl from last night. What type of demon was she?" Gunn asked.
Doyle shook his head.
"She's no demon mate. That girl's a hundred percent human."
"But…the way she moved, the way she fought. She coulda kicked my ass, hands down," Gunn exclaimed.
"That she coulda. She's what we demons like to call the Slayer."
"Which is what?"
"One girl in all the world who fights demons. Chosen by the Powers that Be," Doyle explained.
"Talk about pressure," Gunn said.
Doyle nodded.
"Yup. Young little things too. She's probably about sixteen, seventeen by the looks of her," Doyle estimated.
"Her family's probably worried about her," Gunn mused.
"Slayers don't have family," Doyle said. "Just their Watchers."
"Geez," Gunn said, "And I thought you had a hard gig. Sounds like this girl got an even shorter straw than yours."
"That she did," Doyle agreed. He flipped another page absently and almost turned again without looking at it when something familiar caught his eyes. He looked down and gave a shout of excitement. "Here it is!"
Gunn looked over Doyle's shoulder and tried to read the text. "Damn, Doyle. What language is that in?"
Doyle grimaced. "It's in Latin. And my Latin only goes so far as Carpe Diem."
"Who the hell do we know that can read Latin?" Gunn asked.
"Besides Angel? Nobody," Doyle replied.
"Angel can read Latin?" Gunn asked incredulously. You learned something knew everyday when it came to the vampire with a soul.
Doyle went quiet, a thoughtful look on his face.
"You know, there might be someone who can help us," Doyle said quietly. "I'd hafta go there myself, but if I'm remembering properly, we should have this text worked out by tonight."
Gunn nodded and looked at Doyle expectantly. "Well? What are you waiting for? Go already."
Doyle nodded, grabbed the book and left Gunn to sit in the offices, alone with his thoughts.
------------------------
Doyle pulled Angel's convertible up in front of a high-class building and swallowed nervously. He hated coming here for several reasons. One, he still owed this guy a favour, and two, the guy wasn't actually a guy. It was his ex-wife who had taken to studying demons and ancient languages, including Latin.
He sucked in a deep breath and forced himself out of the car and up the stairs, ringing Harry's doorbell before he completely lost his nerve.
Harry answered, a completely shocked look on her face.
"Francis," she breathed.
He smiled a little and nodded his head in greeting. "Hey Harry. I was wondering if I could have a moment of your time."
Harry hesitated but finally nodded, opening the door completely to let in her ex-husband.
"There's something wrong, isn't there?" Harry asked.
Doyle nodded and sat himself down on a chair in her living room.
"You could say that, yeah," Doyle replied. He pulled the wrist cuff out of his pocket and handed it to Harry.
She looked up at him in shock. "Where did you get this?"
"At an Octavian Fighting Arena," Doyle replied. "I need to figure out how to get it open."
"I can't help you there, not without the text that goes with it," Harry said.
Doyle just pulled out the book and handed it to her at the correct page.
"It's written in Latin, so I thought that you might be able to lend us a hand," Doyle said.
"Who's it for?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"For Angel," Doyle explained. "He got himself taken a couple a nights back, and…we wanna get him outta there before he gets decimated."
Harry took the text from Doyle and began reading over it. She frowned thoughtfully and looked up at Doyle.
"It looks simple enough, but…you're going to need to make a portable key to get Angel outta that cuff. This thing's half magic, half medieval technology," Harry explained. "You need to connect it to an adaptor and find something that conducts a small amount of electricity. But, not too much. There's your main problem."
"Well, what conducts electricity in small amounts?" Doyle asked.
"Really thin wire maybe," Harry suggested. "Hair's a good conductor, but I think human hair is too thin."
"What about fur or something?"
"Maybe a horse hair," Harry said.
"Where the hell am I meant to get a horse hair from?" Doyle asked.
"There's a ranch about twenty minutes north of LA," Harry said. "Go there and cut off a strand from a tail. I should be able to set up the rest here."
Doyle nodded and stood up.
"I can't thank you enough Harry," he said.
She just smiled and gently touched his hand. "I think it's the least I can do after my fiancée tried to behead you," she said.
Doyle grinned and kissed her cheek quickly before going back out to the car.
------------------------
An hour and a half later, Doyle was back at Harry's place, horse hair firmly in his grip. He knocked and entered the apartment, holding out the single strand to Harry. She took it from him and led him to where she had set up a complicated looking electrical experiment.
"This should work," Harry said. "I've been trying with other things and nearly electrocuting myself, but…this, should work."
Doyle nodded and watched on edge as Harry put the horsehair on a pair of tweezers and held it to the cuff. To their excitement, the cuff opened completely. Harry squealed with excitement and threaded the hair through a portable conductor. She handed the thin silver pen-like key to Doyle.
"Just touch the cuff with this end here," she explained, indicating what he should do. "The cuff should drop off, no hassles."
Doyle grinned and took the item. "Thanks Harry. You're a life-saver."