Title: The Wrong Side of the Line
Chapter 8: When it all hits the fan
Author: Rylee Jane
See Chapter 1 for disclaimers, ratings and summary (if you've come this far, you really don't need a summary anymore, do you?)
A/N: I only have a few more chapters (ones that have been beta-read and corrected) to upload. The rest of it is at the beta-girl's place right now, and I'm waiting to hear back. If I don't get them within the next few days, I'm going to be posting them about twice a week instead of every few days so the delay in between the two parts won't be so long. Hopefully, by the time I post Chapter 10 here, I will have the second half back and ready to go. Cross your fingers. Until then, enjoy Chapter 8!
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The base was a mess that night, soldiers running everywhere, trying to handle one of the two tragedies of the day. For his part, Spike just took updates and stayed out of the middle of it. He couldn't be too close to either investigation; to stick his nose into them too much might raise some eyebrows. Delegate authority, that was his job in these situations.
He walked across the yard to the guard gate, only giving a nod to the men on duty. One of them stopped him as he passed through. "Sir, may I suggest that you take a guard with you?"
Spike shot him a look. "I don't need a bloody guard."
"With what happened to the commander today, sir, it's been requested that---."
"Requested by who?" Spike interrupted.
"Commander-in-charge Watkins. He asked us to make sure that you take a guard with you if you left the base for any reason."
"Me? Specifically me?"
The private shrunk back slightly. "Y-yes, sir. He's concerned for your safety, sir."
"He doesn't need to be. I'll be fine."
The other private stepped out of the guard shack, holding his rifle. "I'm sorry, sir. We have our orders."
Spike sighed. "For Christ's sake, fine. Just stay back and don't get in my way."
"Yes, sir."
He stalked along the edge of the compound and around the maintenance area, stopping at the chief mechanics office. "General Donovan. Is there something I can do for you, sir?"
"You can cut the sir crap for one thing. I need a jeep, Jonathan."
The young man picked up his clipboard and looked over it. "Did you have a request in for one?"
Spike stepped forward and glared at the smaller man, watching him shrink back in his chair. "I'm requesting one now."
Jonathan swallowed. "I'm sorry, Spike. Until further notice, all vehicles use must be requested and approved of ahead of time."
"On whose orders?" He knew the answer before it came.
"Commander Watkins."
"Bugger," Spike muttered, leaning against the desk. "When did he give you this order?"
"Uh, about two hours ago. Right before he commandeered my computer."
Spike's head shot up and he swallowed hard. "Christ!" he breathed, taking off at a run, ignoring the guard's shouts for him to wait up.
He stopped dead in the doorway to his office, gripping the frame with both hands. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His computer was gone, monitor and all, as well as all the papers that had been on his desk. One glance at his file cabinets told him that they'd cleaned them out too. Stray bits of paper were scattered across the floor, along with a few shards of glass that had been broken out of the picture of Buffy, Dawn and their friend Willow that he kept locked in his desk drawer. He had always been prepared to explain that one away, if necessary, as wanting to hold on to at least one memory of a girl that he had loved, even if she was now a traitor to their army. Surely they would understand that, considering it was well known that he'd loved her so much. Now, he was sure he'd have to explain it eventually.
He checked the other drawers and found them nearly empty too. Fortunately, he had taken Buffy's folder back to his room, and he doubted that they'd checked his quarters. At least, he hoped they hadn't.
He stormed over to the phone and started to dial Watkins' office. Then he stopped. They're taking everybody's, he reminded himself. Best not to make waves.
Instead, he paged Harris to his office, and plopped down in his chair to think.
Harris showed up about 20 minutes later, covered in dust and soot. "What's wrong?"
Spike motioned for Xander to shut the door. "D'they raid your office too?"
Xander nodded. "They got everyone's. Although they were a little neater about my stuff," he said, looking around the office. "They think that Travers' death was an inside job."
"Did they find out what poison was used?"
"Not yet. They're pretty sure that it was a fatal allergic reaction to something."
"Allergic reaction. To blood?"
Xander shook his head. "To something in the blood. Something purposely introduced. They say that they probably could have saved him if anyone would have noticed that he was in trouble. As it was, with the explosion and all, nobody was around to see it."
Spike nodded. "The explosion happened at just about the same time that Travers was dying. Two plus two equals---."
"A set-up," Xander finished. "Someone set that bomb to go off while Travers was dying to keep him from getting help."
"So it was a bomb?"
Xander nodded. "They found the debris today. It was one of ours."
"What about the tapes?"
Xander sat on the edge of Spike's desk, shaking his head. "Funny thing about the tapes. They're gone."
"What?" Spike snapped.
"Gone. The chief of security was called up to Travers' office, and when he went back to the office to get the tapes---."
"Someone had snagged them."
"Yep. No cameras in the security office either, so whoever did this knew what he was doing and cleaned up his mess pretty well. Definitely an inside job."
Spike almost smiled, but held it back. "We'll find him, whoever it was."
"Sure we will," Xander said, giving him a little wink. Then he slid a piece of paper across the desk to Spike. It read: I burned them.
Spike did smile then, pulling out his lighter and setting the note on fire. "Thank you, Colonel. Keep me informed."
"Of course, General. Any time."
As Xander left the office, Spike gave the camera a friendly little smile and stood up. Everything was going really well so far. Now, of course, came the hard part.
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So, there you go. Chapter 8. Your turn. Hit the review button and tell me the truth. I'll get chapter 9 up according to how soon I hear from my beta-girl! Thanks!
Chapter 8: When it all hits the fan
Author: Rylee Jane
See Chapter 1 for disclaimers, ratings and summary (if you've come this far, you really don't need a summary anymore, do you?)
A/N: I only have a few more chapters (ones that have been beta-read and corrected) to upload. The rest of it is at the beta-girl's place right now, and I'm waiting to hear back. If I don't get them within the next few days, I'm going to be posting them about twice a week instead of every few days so the delay in between the two parts won't be so long. Hopefully, by the time I post Chapter 10 here, I will have the second half back and ready to go. Cross your fingers. Until then, enjoy Chapter 8!
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The base was a mess that night, soldiers running everywhere, trying to handle one of the two tragedies of the day. For his part, Spike just took updates and stayed out of the middle of it. He couldn't be too close to either investigation; to stick his nose into them too much might raise some eyebrows. Delegate authority, that was his job in these situations.
He walked across the yard to the guard gate, only giving a nod to the men on duty. One of them stopped him as he passed through. "Sir, may I suggest that you take a guard with you?"
Spike shot him a look. "I don't need a bloody guard."
"With what happened to the commander today, sir, it's been requested that---."
"Requested by who?" Spike interrupted.
"Commander-in-charge Watkins. He asked us to make sure that you take a guard with you if you left the base for any reason."
"Me? Specifically me?"
The private shrunk back slightly. "Y-yes, sir. He's concerned for your safety, sir."
"He doesn't need to be. I'll be fine."
The other private stepped out of the guard shack, holding his rifle. "I'm sorry, sir. We have our orders."
Spike sighed. "For Christ's sake, fine. Just stay back and don't get in my way."
"Yes, sir."
He stalked along the edge of the compound and around the maintenance area, stopping at the chief mechanics office. "General Donovan. Is there something I can do for you, sir?"
"You can cut the sir crap for one thing. I need a jeep, Jonathan."
The young man picked up his clipboard and looked over it. "Did you have a request in for one?"
Spike stepped forward and glared at the smaller man, watching him shrink back in his chair. "I'm requesting one now."
Jonathan swallowed. "I'm sorry, Spike. Until further notice, all vehicles use must be requested and approved of ahead of time."
"On whose orders?" He knew the answer before it came.
"Commander Watkins."
"Bugger," Spike muttered, leaning against the desk. "When did he give you this order?"
"Uh, about two hours ago. Right before he commandeered my computer."
Spike's head shot up and he swallowed hard. "Christ!" he breathed, taking off at a run, ignoring the guard's shouts for him to wait up.
He stopped dead in the doorway to his office, gripping the frame with both hands. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His computer was gone, monitor and all, as well as all the papers that had been on his desk. One glance at his file cabinets told him that they'd cleaned them out too. Stray bits of paper were scattered across the floor, along with a few shards of glass that had been broken out of the picture of Buffy, Dawn and their friend Willow that he kept locked in his desk drawer. He had always been prepared to explain that one away, if necessary, as wanting to hold on to at least one memory of a girl that he had loved, even if she was now a traitor to their army. Surely they would understand that, considering it was well known that he'd loved her so much. Now, he was sure he'd have to explain it eventually.
He checked the other drawers and found them nearly empty too. Fortunately, he had taken Buffy's folder back to his room, and he doubted that they'd checked his quarters. At least, he hoped they hadn't.
He stormed over to the phone and started to dial Watkins' office. Then he stopped. They're taking everybody's, he reminded himself. Best not to make waves.
Instead, he paged Harris to his office, and plopped down in his chair to think.
Harris showed up about 20 minutes later, covered in dust and soot. "What's wrong?"
Spike motioned for Xander to shut the door. "D'they raid your office too?"
Xander nodded. "They got everyone's. Although they were a little neater about my stuff," he said, looking around the office. "They think that Travers' death was an inside job."
"Did they find out what poison was used?"
"Not yet. They're pretty sure that it was a fatal allergic reaction to something."
"Allergic reaction. To blood?"
Xander shook his head. "To something in the blood. Something purposely introduced. They say that they probably could have saved him if anyone would have noticed that he was in trouble. As it was, with the explosion and all, nobody was around to see it."
Spike nodded. "The explosion happened at just about the same time that Travers was dying. Two plus two equals---."
"A set-up," Xander finished. "Someone set that bomb to go off while Travers was dying to keep him from getting help."
"So it was a bomb?"
Xander nodded. "They found the debris today. It was one of ours."
"What about the tapes?"
Xander sat on the edge of Spike's desk, shaking his head. "Funny thing about the tapes. They're gone."
"What?" Spike snapped.
"Gone. The chief of security was called up to Travers' office, and when he went back to the office to get the tapes---."
"Someone had snagged them."
"Yep. No cameras in the security office either, so whoever did this knew what he was doing and cleaned up his mess pretty well. Definitely an inside job."
Spike almost smiled, but held it back. "We'll find him, whoever it was."
"Sure we will," Xander said, giving him a little wink. Then he slid a piece of paper across the desk to Spike. It read: I burned them.
Spike did smile then, pulling out his lighter and setting the note on fire. "Thank you, Colonel. Keep me informed."
"Of course, General. Any time."
As Xander left the office, Spike gave the camera a friendly little smile and stood up. Everything was going really well so far. Now, of course, came the hard part.
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So, there you go. Chapter 8. Your turn. Hit the review button and tell me the truth. I'll get chapter 9 up according to how soon I hear from my beta-girl! Thanks!