Chapter Thirteen

Truth uncovered

It wasn't until he got on the plane back to Los Angeles two days after the meeting with Travers that Michael finally allowed himself to let the matter rest. He'd been suckered, he knew it, and for the time being there were nothing he could, or at least would, do about it. None of the information he'd received was false; he had no doubt about that. That meant that there were something he had not been told, something the Council, or at least its leader did not want him to know.

If this had been a regular hunt, it would have been necessary for him to determine exactly what that was. Every piece of evidence would have to have been examined. But this wasn't a regular hunt. There were no voices to quiet, no doubt to quell. He knew the guilt of his prey, and so he merely sought to learn of the new habits it had acquired since last he was on its trail.

Whatever dealings Angelus might have had with the Council would have no bearing on Michael's plans for him, and as for the Council? They were on his list for later. He would learn what they'd attempted to hide; it just weren't necessary to spend the limited time he had for this hunt on learning it right now.

Leaning back in his seat he began reviewing his plans for Sunnydale.

One major problem with Sunnydale was of course that is contained a Hellmouth, apparently one of the larger, or at least most active ones. Which meant that humans were quite likely a minority group in the immediate area, and an endangered one at that. Considering the various immunities of demons, his regular weapons would not be enough. And that had required a quick journey home to Chicago. There he'd spent the last eight hours packing enough weapons and ammunition to wipe out a small army, and arranging their discreet transportation to L.A.

He'd also taken the opportunity to send the files he'd gathered on his currently open cases to temporary storage in Australia, and arranged for his home to suffer a catastrophic fire in three weeks, or sooner should anyone be unfortunate enough to break in. Gelatinous gasoline and explosives would remove all traces of him ever having lived there.

From L.A. he would drive to Sunnydale, take possession of the house he'd purchased there, and then make contact with either Tara or Willow. He was hoping they'd be willing to work for money, but he suspected he would have to part with some of the artefacts he'd gathered over the years instead. After all, what use was money to a powerful witch?

The only decision left to make was his appearance, the personality he would present. The Slayer would probably respond best to a young, carefree hunter, somewhat like how he'd appeared to the council, though he should probably tone a bit down on the unstable part. The witches and the Watcher however, were not likely to appreciate that. Slightly older, cold and professional were most likely to not cause offence there. Just add a sense of humour to make sure he didn't appear too stiff, and it would probably go over well with the Slayer too.

****

Two weeks after Duncan began his hunt for the slayer, Joe learned about 'Michael Sedgewick', and was intrigued. Immortals not playing the Game were rare, and the numbers of those not spending their time constantly on holy ground could be counted by the fingers on one hand, and you'd only need two of them. And neither of those two matched the description he'd gotten from Amanda. They didn't look anything like him, and were far younger. And not expected to get much older either.

Yet here was one almost three hundred years old who'd spent his entire time as an Immortal running from Challenges, not even practising with a sword. And Joe had never heard of him before. And after a quick search through the main database using the various aliases he'd also gotten from her, he knew why. Michael, or Samuel McDowell, as his original name was supposed to be, had never been discovered by the Watchers.

Yes, he'd been intrigued. And then suspicious. Granted, as an expert thief he would be expected to be hard to discover, especially if he avoided the glamorous lifestyle Amanda favoured, but he knew her. She claimed to have met him repeatedly over the last two centuries, yet he was mentioned in none of her Chronicles. None of her Watchers had reported her meeting and occasionally working with an unidentified Immortal.

Trying to solve the mystery, he'd called and asked for more details on when and where they'd met. Armed with the new info, he had returned to her Chronicles. And was now rapidly closing on panic.

Fourteen. That was the number of times she'd met the man currently calling himself 'Michael Sedgewick'. And that was the number of Watchers who'd died shortly before or after each meeting. Victims of accidents, disastrous fires, robberies gone wrong or merely disappeared. The list was long and varied, and so obvious once he knew what to look for.

Whenever Amanda had run into him, her Watcher had died shortly after in some manner that also destroyed their field notes. When they planned a meeting, her Watcher suffered a fatal accident shortly before the meeting, usually leaving the field notes intact. If it had been almost any other Immortal, Joe would have suspected them of working together, but he knew Amanda almost as well as he knew Duncan. Cold-blooded murder was not for her, nor would she count someone like the slayer as a friend, unless she had no idea of his true nature.

And now, with Duncan hunting the slayer, Amanda were leading him right to the monster, yet with the hunters unaware that their prey was masquerading as a friend, and fully aware of their intentions.

Walking as fast as his prostheses would allow, he left his office and headed for Methos' apartment.