Chapter 19

Dark Rescue

Sunnydale / San Francisco – May 24th 

Willow sat at the computer in her dorm room checking the progress of her searches. The Initiative files had been seventy percent decrypted, which was significant progress. Willow tried a simple test first, typing in the name, "Riley Finn." The computer almost instantly returned over two dozen matches. Willow checked one at random, and found it to be a mission debrief that he had written.

So, it was working. Willow was pleased. She typed in another search term: jornikof. The computer worked for a moment, and then returned the message 'No Matches Found.' Hmm, Willow thought, It still has thirty percent to decrypt. We'll try again later. She turned when the door opened; it was Tara, returning from the shower.

"Hey, baby, how's it going?" Tara asked.

"Seventy percent done," Willow said, but frowned. "Still no match on our demon, though."

"It was kind of a long-shot though, wasn't it?" Tara asked, attempting to make Willow feel better.

"I know," said Willow. "But I was kinda hoping. I was feeling lucky this morning, so I decided to try something long-shotty."

Tara yawned. "Well, you don't have a class until ten. Why don't you come back to bed for awhile."

Willow turned to her computer, and then back to Tara. It wasn't a difficult decision; Willow closed the lid on her laptop.

Laying her head on the pillow, she sighed. "How do you think Buffy and Xander are doing?" she asked.

"I don't know," Tara said, stroking Willow's hair. "I'm sure that there's nothing they might run into that Buffy couldn't handle, though."

"You're right," Willow said. "There's nothing to worry about."

* * *

"That's Harris' truck, all right," said Captain Mac over the two-way. He was sitting in a black Ford Explorer with tinted windows on a side street in San Francisco. The team had been deployed as soon as the break-in at the congressman's office had gone out over the police net. The suspect descriptions had matched those of Buffy and Xander, and Madame LaFusce had ordered the team out.

The team had driven all night, and everyone was on edge. They had no idea what awaited them, or how they would find the Slayer. They knew the two were not in police custody. They also hadn't returned to their vehicle to return home. They had to assume worst case, which meant going in with as much firepower as they could carry.

Unfortunately, the city was busy at this time of the morning. It was broad daylight, and they couldn't very well deploy a heavily armed fighting force to search for the missing Slayer. The mission was showing very little sign of having any chance of success.

"Copy that, Mac," Sheffield's voice responded. "I will reconnoiter, the rest of you sit tight."

"Say again," Mac responded, somewhat mystified. "That is not protocol," he protested.

"You have your orders," Sheffield responded coldly. "Keep me on GPS. Sheffield out."

Captain MacKenzie grew more uncomfortable. He turned to Johnson who was sitting next to him. "Light it up, lad," he said. Johnson pulled out the portable tracking device and turned it on. A map of San Francisco was displayed, and the Major's signal was strong and clear on it. It began to move.

Major Sheffield walked slowly down an alleyway, carefully checking about him. When he was sure he was not being observed, he pulled out the package the old woman had given him. A small silver bowl fit just in the cup of his hand, and he placed the black stone in its center. Taking a deep breath, he began reading the first of the three incantations. The stone began to glow from within a deep red.

Next, he drew out his combat knife, and carefully cut his thumb. He curled the digit around the small bowl and pressed it along the rim. Droplets of blood began to slide into the bowl. He read the second incantation, and the bowl grew warm in his hand. His blood began to sizzle.

Breathing slowly, he took out the third item from his pocket: a single strand of the Slayers hair. He dropped it in the bowl, and it instantly burnt to ash, sending wisps of smoke curling upwards. He read the third incantation, and as he did the smoke took form.

Sitting in the bowl was a small creature, not unlike a tiny gargoyle. Its limbs were long and twisted, its mouth cruel. The skin was black all over, except for the eyes, which burned like red coals. It hissed at him and flicked its small, forked tongue. It was a vile looking creature, but Madame LaFusce had explained its use.

"Creature of darkness," Sheffield said to it, "you have tasted the one I seek in the offering I have given you. Find her now, for she is close by. And when you have completed this task, begone from this realm."

The creature hissed once again, and then leapt from the bowl. It looked back once to make sure Sheffield was following him, sniffed the air about him, and then began to walk down the alley. It darted back and forth down the alley and the Major had to run occasionally to keep up with it. But he kept it in sight as they twisted in towards the old city of San Francisco.

In the dark Explorers, the rest of the team drove cautiously and circuitously around, keeping the Major in the center of their triangle. Mac was suspicious of how Sheffield planned to find the Slayer, but their relationship was already strained to the breaking point. One more conflict with the Major, and Mac could be bounced out of the service. So he bit his lip and drove, waiting to see where this would take them.

The creature eventually stopped nearly a mile from where they'd started. It stood on an industrial grate, hopping up and down. It pointed to the grate and hissed and chittered. Sheffield walked up to it and looked down at the grate.

It was a ventilation shaft from somewhere deep below the city. Sunlight only penetrated about a dozen feet down, then all was lost in darkness. The area of the city they were in was largely unused. Not abandoned, exactly; but there was no one strolling about, either. He looked at the creature. "She's down there?" he asked. It leapt up and down and chittered again. Then, with a last vile hiss, turned to smoke and vanished.

The Major looked around. They could deploy from here and not be seen. They could exit in several directions. It was an excellent operating point. And if the old woman was to be believed, the Slayer would be found within fifty feet of this shaft. He picked up his two-way. "Gentleman, we have a lock. Converge on this point. Over."

* * *

Buffy and Xander were sleeping, albeit fitfully, when the noise came. It sounded at first like one of the machines had suddenly one awry. A loud Boom! Crack! That was followed by several more. Then the screams came.

Buffy and Xander ran to the grating that defined their prison, and could see movement in the distance. At first it was simply a swaying of the fabric of the tent city; a rippling of the homes. Then they saw demons scrambling away. Individuals and family groups darted through the edges of the city, seeking a way out. Mothers carried screaming babies in their arms; the elderly tried to lean on one another and hobble out of the way.

From the center of this maelstrom they first saw flashlights waving around in all directions. Then they heard the shouts. Eventually, they saw the guns. Five commandos emerged from the refugee city, armed with rifles surmounted by flashlights. They wore black body armor and helmets and moved in a tight configuration. The resembled a porcupine with rifle barrel quills, and they were moving towards Buffy and Xander.

"You don't think that maybe those are the same guys who took out Spike, do you?" Xander asked nervously.

"I'm not waiting to find out," Buffy said. She grasped the grating and with a single, hard shove knocked it off its brackets. "You find Torry and get him to give you the file," she ordered Xander. "Get that file to Giles, no matter what. I'll hold these guys off."

"No way, Buff," Xander said. "I'm not leaving you."

Buffy had no more time to argue. She cartwheeled out of the tunnel and into the group of soldiers.  Her feet knocked the lead gun away, and then she was upright in their center. A few quick moves knocked two others flying. "Get the file," she yelled, and then turned to the two others.

Xander was off and running. Not knowing where else to go, he headed back towards the center of the city. He saw Torry instantly, mainly because he was one of the few demons moving towards the armed humans instead of away from them. Xander reached out and grabbed him.

"Listen to me," Xander shouted. "Buffy is holding those guys off single handed." He pointed to where Buffy could be seen knocking the soldiers about. "We're on your side!"

Buffy did a backflip over one opponent and spun around towards another. She grabbed the barrel of his rifle and bent it. Then the butt of one of the weapons caught her on the side of the head. She staggered, and then stuck back.

"How?" Torry asked, somewhat bewildered.

"She's the Slayer," Xander said. Then, sensing that it wasn't the most comforting thing to say, he added, "And you have nothing to fear from her if you're as peaceful as you say." Torry looked over at him, searching. "But we need that file," Xander said.

Torry nodded once. He wasn't sure why, but he believed this human. The other one was fighting the soldiers. This one was promising to help. Seeing her fight, Torry realized that she could have escaped any time she wanted; but she had kept her word. He turned and led Xander away. He would trust these two.

In the center of the fray, Buffy was tiring. She had taken several blows from the weapons, and the soldiers' body armor had deflected most of the force of hers. She wasn't sure how long she could hold out against them. There was a moment of respite, when the soldiers backed off, forming a loose circle around her. She looked about, trying to decide which way to go next. She waited for them to make their move.

One of them put his gun down and tore off his black ski mask. Beneath it was a shock of red hair and freckles. His face was covered in sweat, and his breathing was ragged. "I'm Captain MacKenzie," he wheezed out. "We're here to bloody well rescue you."

"Rescue?" Buffy asked, incredulously.

"Aye," he said. "We were sent here by Madame LaFusce." Buffy looked around doubtfully. "She said you'd be a stubborn idiot of a girl, but I try not to listen to the annoying old bag of wind. But in this case, she appears to have been right."

Buffy relaxed slightly. She wanted to believe him. Another moment and she would've. But then she was hit by 100,000 volts from behind, and lost consciousness before she could make up her mind.

"What did you do that for?" Mac yelled.

"We don't have time for chit-chat, Captain," Sheffield responded. "Let's just get going." Sheffield walked over the body of the Slayer and grabbed Mac by the weapon harness he wore. "You've endangered this mission enough already. Now get that mask back on and not another word out of you." He turned to the others. "Grab the girl and let's go," he said. Turning back to Mac he added, "And clean some of this nest out on your way back."

Mac held his gaze defiantly. "I willna kill children," he hissed.

"Have it your way, Mister," Sheffield hissed back. He would've said more, but the three others had grabbed the Slayer and were carrying her out. "Cover the extraction," he said instead, and took the lead.

Mac looked about him at the scared faces of the demons around him. Something was very wrong, he decided. Very, very wrong.