Mayor Santos stands in the back of a jeep with Colonel Grove, a tall man in his mid-50's with thinning white hair. He's in charge of the forces carrying out the evacuation. They ride through the chaotic streets, where soldiers are trying to keep the bewildered and angry residents from starting a riot. For them, this is some sort of Orwellian nightmare. Electricity, water and phones cut; armed men telling them they have thirty minutes to pack up their possessions before leaving town. And all without the slightest bit of warning. They literally did wake up one morning to find themselves living in a police state.
"I think you made the right call with this sectoral plan," Grove tells Estella. "Six neighborhoods, one hour each neighborhood. It allows me to use half my force to keep the streets and highways clear. And the civilians from each sector can be grouped into an orderly exit procession. Traffic congestion was my biggest worry."
"You can thank Lieutenant Colonel Gage. He had some excellent suggestions regarding logistics. It helps that we're facing less resistance than I anticipated."
"Country's changed in the past few years. People are more frightened. And they're more willing to believe, for example, that there's a high risk in the next few days that terrorists will try try to capture and set off a cache of chemical weapons stored underground in their town since W-W-2. And that the quickest and safest way to move and dispose of the nerve agents is to temporarily evacuate the town. That was good one: scary, but not too far-fetched."
"Thank you, Colonel. A lot of folks have noticed the entry doors in the woods from your predecessor's little adventure three years back. They know something's down there. Which gives the warning credibility."
"So what are we really making them run from, Mayor?"
"Sorry Colonel. That information's classified," Estella replies with a smirk. Neither the Colonel nor the Lieutenant Colonel know about the Hellmouth. But the Brigadier General who runs the base does, and Stella's older brother Vincente, who served two years in Vietnam and spent three more on that base, happens to be long-time friends with the General, and was thus able to convince him to allow this highly unorthodox and grossly illegal deployment (the general could face court martial) because, well, he trusts Vince, and he knows weird things happen on the Hellmouth. Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, things are calm and quiet this Saturday morning. Angel and Connor are downstairs in the lobby in wheelchairs.
"I can push it myself," Angel complains to Wesley.
"You have a broken arm, two broken hands and a separated shoulder," Wes replies. "What are you going to push it with?"
"You're lucky we even let you two outta bed," Fred explains.
"If you didn't, I would have walked out," Angel responds. "I'm already mostly healed."
"Me too," Connor concurs. "I can' just lie in bed day after day. It's driving me crazy."
"I thought you two we getting to like being waited on hand and foot?," Fred asks.
"I can take care of myself," Connor answers. "And I'm hungry. Hey Lorne! Where's my drink?" Wes, Fred and Gunn snicker at Connor's hypocrisy.
"Sounds like sick boy wants to have his cake and eat it too," Gunn jokes.
"Your drink?," Lorne asks. "It's nine in the morning! Oh. That kind of drink. Sorry, old bartender reflexes. Just one second." Lorne looks at the computer screen in the office and laughs. Cordy stands over his shoulder.
"See? What did I tell you?," she asks him.
"It's hilarious! Where did you get this?"
"My friend Sadie emailed it to me. She received it from another friend and sent in to me because it reminded her of the crazy things that happened at Sunnydale High. You think there are demons involved?"
"I don't know. Someone could have put a spell on her."
"Witchcraft?"
"That would be my guess."
"What's so funny?," Gunn asks.
"You guys gotta see this," Cordy tells them. Wes, Gunn and Fred go into the office. "Lorne, start it again from the beginning."
"Hey! What about us?," Angel complains. He and Connor are left stranded all alone in the lobby. Wes, Gunn and Fred start laughing.
"It's from a fancy prep school back east," Cordelia explains. "They had some big whoop-tee-do we've been around a long time' celebration that was on C-Span or MSNBC or one of those news channels nobody watches."
"She's cracking up cause she didn't get into Harvard?," Fred asks sarcastically. "Cry me a river."
"Don't rich people have real problems?," Gunn wonders.
"These things might not seem so important at our age, but when you're eighteen, and you have to live up to family traditions and expectations, such a blow really can feel like the end of the world," Wes explains.
"Projecting much?," Cordy asks him. "And this whole thing about being punished for losing her virginity. Trust me, this isn't the worst that can happen. Not even close."
"Was that a reference to Buffy and me?," Angel asks from outside the room. "Why are you talking about me behind my back?"
"This reminds me of the time everyone in town had their worst fears come true," Cordelia tells the others. "Especially the public humiliation. That could be what it was."
"What what was?," Wesley asks.
"It was when we were sophomores. Angel, you remember, don't you?"
"Remember what?"
"When all our worst fears came true for a day. What happened to you?"
"I don't remember that happening."
"Lucky you. Giles forgot how to read. I joined the Chess Club. Willow had some stage fright thingy. Xander came to class naked. And Buffy turned into a vampire."
"Buffy did what!!?," Angel exclaims.
"Someone bring the invalids in here," Cordy suggests. Gunn and Wes push them in.
"What's everyone looking at?," Connor wonders.
"What did you say about Buffy?," Angel demands to know.
"Lorne, move over," Cordy commands. "You've already seen it." Connor and Angel are pushed in front of the screen.
"Did you say Buffy turned into a – "
"Forget about Buffy," Connor interjects. "Doesn't the one on the left look familiar? And she sounds familiar, too."
Angel looks. "Oh my God. That's the girl we saved last week."
"The girl I saved," Connor responds.
"I killed one vampire, you killed the other. Don't be a glory hog. But that's her. That's Rory."
"And the plot thickens," Lorne adds.
"This girl was attacked by a vampire?," Gunn asks. "The one who's flaking out?"
"No," Angel responds. "The other one."
"The virgin?," Cordy wonders.
"What?," Angel asks back.
"The blonde says the brunette's still a virgin, which is why she got into Harvard. And I know people who've gone there, so I can't begin to tell you how ridiculous that is."
"She said she was going to Yale," Angel recalls.
"Well, apparently she also got into Harvard," Fred reports.
"Very smart girl," Angel says with a smile. "She had a thing for you, Connor. You remember."
"She was glad I saved her life."
"I think it was more than a damsel's gratitude. She was head-over-heels for you, son. I could see it in her eyes."
"She's not bad," Cordy comments. "Maybe a little waifish." Fred glares at her. "Not that that's always a bad thing. By the way, why was she here if she lives in, wherever on the other side of the country this place is."
"Connecticut," Angel answers. "She was here with her mother Lorelai. Who, by the way, had a thing for me."
"That doesn't answer my question," Cordelia responds. "In fact, it only raises more questions."
"She was here to see her ex-boyfriend," Connor explains.
"Which she?," Lorne asks.
"The girl. He moved here to be with the father he just met."
"Doesn't anyone have two parents anymore?," Fred wonders.
Angel looks at the screen. "It says April tenth. So this was a couple weeks before she came here. Strange coincidence, to say the least."
"What coincidence?," Connor asks. "Dawn had a vision about them. That was her first vision."
"Well, it doesn't look like this girl has any problems we can solve for her," Gunn concludes.
"It doesn't look like she has any problems at all," Cordy adds. "She has the money to go to prep school and pay for an Ivy League education. She only gets attacked ONCE by vampires in her whole entire life. Couldn't the Powers have told us to help someone who needed it more?"
"What was that you said about Buffy being a vampire?," Angel asks Cordy, switching topics.
"She was a vampire. We all lived our worst fears, and that was hers. She rose out of the ground all toothy and bumpy."
"You mean she just looked like a vampire."
"No. I think was one. I didn't see it. Xander and Willow told me about it later on. She was dead, she came back to life, and she told them she was hungry."
"She fed? Off of human blood?" This is getting extremely disturbing for Angel.
"No. But if she wanted to, Xander would have been a more-than-willing victim. Willow said he still wanted her, even when she was all yellow-eyed and demony. She killed the monster that was causing all the problems, and everything went back to normal. Including Buffy. It really wasn't that big of a deal." Of course, to Angel the idea of Buffy being a vampire, even for a few moments, was a big deal. "Were you out of town that day? Or did it only effect humans?"
"I don't know. When was this?"
"About two weeks before she died for real."
"I can't remember. Maybe I was out of town that day." Angel has trouble getting the haunting image of Buffy the Vampire out of his head.
"There are definitely some days when it's good to be out of Sunnydale," Cordy concludes.
Kelly, wearing her fatigues and with her hair pulled back in a ponytail underneath her cap, marches up to Lieutenant-Colonel Gage. "Major Kelly Campbell, reporting for duty, sir." She salutes. He salutes back.
"Major Campbell, you're four hours late."
"My apologies, sir. At 0:600, I was in Oklahoma."
"Get to work, Major. Join the Delta Group and relieve Captain Finn of his command."
"Sir, yes, sir," Kelly replies before saluting again. She smiles as she walks over to Colonel Grove. Kelly knows it will be fun to pull rank on Riley.
"You're late," the Colonel tells her. "I don't have time to hear why. Right now, we're moving five companies into the southeast quadrant."
"The college town?"
"Correct. It's separated from the rest of the town by Highway 101. They may not even know they're getting moved like the rest."
"Typical town-gown elitism. You said five companies? Colonel, I can do it with one."
"One hundred soldiers? There's 5,000 civilians, including 2,000 students."
"Trust me. I know how to handle them. I'm sure you need those other four companies around here."
"We certainly could use them. Major, you only have one hour."
"I won't need any longer."
"Very well. You're the one who's done this before. Don't let me down. I want updates every ten minutes. If the civilian's aren't moving in twenty, I send in those other companies. Not get a move on." Kelly rushes over to the column, which is about to head out. Riley stands on the roof of a humvee at the front of the column, getting everyone organized.
"Stand down, captain." Riley looks down and to his left. His jaw drops.
"Kelly?"
"That's Major Campbell to you, Captain Finn. Now stand down. That's an order." Riley comes down to the ground. "Tell the other four captains to report to Colonel Grove for reassignment."
"What? Kelly - I mean, Major - do you know what's going on? When did you get here?"
"That is not your concern. You need only concern yourself with following my orders. Have I made myself understood?" Kelly had not talked to him like this since boot camp. It was jarring and, well, let's face it, something of a turn-on. Riley Finn was one man who had no problem taking orders from women – especially pretty blonde women who could beat him up. He obeys and gives the order. The other captains shake their heads in befuddlement. He gives it again, and they leave. Then he orders the hundred remaining soldiers to step out of their vehicles and assemble before their new commanding officer. Graham appears very happy with change of command. So does Sam. She had been looking forward to meeting Kelly, who, as the highest ranking woman in the demon fighting unit, had always been something of a role model for her.
"At ease," Kelly tells them. "Permission to speak freely granted. We don't have time to waste on protocol. I want the members of each squad to divide themselves into teams of two. I will provide the specifics of your deployment and your tactics to your sargents while we move with all possible speed to the target sector. We will do this quick, light and right. Let's go." Riley naturally pairs up with his wife, Sam. That leaves Graham – and Kelly – alone and unpaired, which makes Graham happy. Kelly walks over to the three of them. "You're mine, Finn," she tells Riley before pulling him away from his wife. "Sam and Graham. It rhymes. That's a good sign." She walks towards the back of the column, then turns to look at the three soldiers, who just stand there in confusion. "Jaws off the ground and into the Bradley," she orders. The rush over to join her in the command center inside the vehicle that brings up the rear of the column to make sure no one slips out of formation and gets lost.
"So this is Sam," Kelly says to Riley. "No bad. Not bad at all." She looks at Sam. "I apologize for stealing your husband. You'll have him back in an hour."
"No sweat. Just bring him back in one piece, Kelly – I mean, Major Campbell."
"Call me Kelly," she responds while looking over maps of the area they're heading to.
"It's an honor, Kelly, to finally meet you. You've put in more time than any of us. I've heard some amazing stories about the things you've seen. What's the biggest evacuation you've ever done?"
"Bangladesh. Eighteen villages. Twelve thousand civilians. But it was a smaller job than it sounds. Only a 2.5 kilometer radius. Which is about as big an area as this little sliver of Sunnydale we're taking care of."
"How are we going to do this with a single company?," Riley demands to know.
"Forty percent college students. This isn't their home. They'll be easy to move."
"Not on a Saturday morning," Riley responds.
"I think I know how to make them very alert, very quickly. Are the support units bringing in the buses?"
"They should already be in place," Riley assures her. Kelly gets on the horn and announces which teams go where. She's assigning two soldiers to every dorm, all of which contain more than one hundred students. Riley thinks that's courting disaster. But it leaves nearly seventy soldiers to take care of the off-campus apartments and town houses. And Kelly promises to have the campus cleared in twenty minutes, giving the soldiers working there time to go and help out with the townies. Then Kelly sits back and pours herself a cup of coffee.
"Relax, Finney. This is gonna go down easy." She grimaces as she swallows. "Certainly a lot easier than this coffee." He's the only one who's worried. Sam's too awestruck by this woman who bosses everyone around. And Graham trusts her judgement, so his mind wanders for the time being to other matters.
"How was Los Angeles?," he asks her. "I know you arrived right around the time we were leaving."
"You mean when the city was dark?," Sam asks Graham. "You were there for that?"
"Made enough vampire dust to build a small pyramid. Never had such a target-rich turkey shoot."
"Who was in charge?"
"Lindsey MacDonald."
"I've heard of him. What's he like in person? Is he as cool as everyone says he is?"
"No. Cooler," Kelly responds. "After Graham's boys took out all the common vamps, I was brought in to take care of an especially cunning bloodsucker named Angelus."
"Angelus," Riley parrots. "Do you mean Angel?"
"Sure do. That's what he calls himself when he's evil."
"He went evil! With Buffy?"
"No. Definitely not with Buffy. It was spell or something that didn't involve a partner."
"Was Angelus the vampire who killed two of our men?," Graham asks.
"One and the same." Graham and Riley look at each other.
"He was Buffy's ex? That monster?" Suddenly, Riley and Graham see eye-to-eye on Angel. Also, Graham begins to wonder about Buffy.
"He's less monstrous with a soul," Kelly explains.
"I'm not so sure about that," Riley adds. "Maybe he's not a killer, but he's still a violent jerk."
"Then you'll be happy to know that Lindsey had him disemboweled." They do look happy. Especially Riley. "With the help of Faith, and Angel's friends – he's got some really cool friends."
"You mean Gunn, Fred and Wes?," Graham asks. "Ain't that the truth Ry, I have to tell you about those guys. And girl. The girl was pretty incredible."
"Why did this Lindsey guy want you for the mission?," Riley asks.
"Angel likes blondes. So I was the bait."
"The what?," Riley asks.
"The bait. And boy did he bite. Well, try to bite. I meet him in a club. Right away, he starts coming on really strong. Takes me outside. Promises to sire me - which is the funniest part. He was thinking long term! I act all helpless and drunk. Then I kick him in the groin and escape to a warehouse. He tracks me down, walks into the trap, and then everyone jumps him. Lindsey had these brass knuckles that made the nastiest wounds on Angel's face. Wes had a shotgun. Fred had a flail. Gunn had a hook – that's what did the disemboweling. And then Faith just pounded the crap out of him. I did some pounding, too. But not as much as Faith. Cause she's a Slayer."
"Hold on," Sam says. "I thought Buffy was the Slayer. Isn't there only supposed to be one?"
"Yes," Kelly responds. "But apparently there's been two for the last couple years."
"Faith's incredible," Graham tells Riley. "You really should meet her."
"I have," Riley says, looking uncomfortable.
"Yeah, but that was Buffy's body. It's not the same. Not even close in my book."
"What is he talking about?," Sam asks her husband.
"That spell I told you about that switched their bodies."
"You mean the whole Face-Off' thing?" That was with a Slayer? I thought the girl who did it was evil? And Slayers are good."
"Faith wasn't," Riley tells her.
"But she is now," Kelly adds.
"But not too good," Graham says with a smile. She's still got that bad girl attitude."
"Oh no," Riley responds. "You like her!"
"What's not to like?"
"The fact that she was evil."
"That's in the past. And most of the guys who've met 'em both agree with me that she's hotter than Buffy."
"Those guys being your soldier buddies? Now there's a really skewed sample."
"She's in Sunnydale," Kelly announces. "After Angel got his soul back, she was supposed to come here to help Buffy."
"Where is Buffy?," Riley asks Kelly, guessing that she knows more because of her higher rank.
"I heard the Slayers were already taken to a secure location."
"A secure location we can visit when this is over?," Graham asks.
"She's dating Lindsey. Just so you know."
"Oh." Graham looks crushed. "He is rich, and handsome, and he has that whole dark side in his past. I guess that makes it easy for her to relate to him."
"Lindsey was evil?," Sam asks.
"When Angel was good, Lindsey was evil, so he spent his time trying to hurt Angel," Kelly explains.
"They doesn't sound so evil," Riley jokes.
"Then he had a change of heart and went good. Sure enough, a little while later, Angel went bad. But it's not like it sounds. It wasn't vengeance. He could have killed Angel, but he didn't. He wanted to help him get good again. Even though Angel was trying to kill him, and me, and everyone else who wanted to bring him back."
"He risked his life to help a man he hates?," Riley asks himself. "That guy must have a lot of atoning to do."
"Did he hurt you?," Sam asks Kelly.
"Angel? Not really. Except for when he bit my hand. See? Scar's are still fresh. In fairness, I was stuffing a cross into his mouth at the time. So he got worse than he gave."
"A cross?," Graham asks with a smile. "In his mouth?"
"It was a classic. Smoke coming out his nose and ears. A big, cross-shaped burn mark on his tongue. He was trying to kill Willow before she could put his soul back in his body. Good thing I was nearby."
"Willow can do that?," Riley asks.
"And a lot more. A whole lot more. I think there have been one or two times when she was briefly the most powerful person on the planet.
"I thought she gave up magic?," Sam inquires.
"I don't know the whole story. She abused her power; quit; really, really abused her power; learned how to be responsible; and now she's a good witch all the time. Although the day I saw her she did a few things that Wesley considered beyond the pale. But it was a means to an end."
"Wesley's the English demon fighter with gadgets," Graham explains to Riley. "He's totally crazy. No caution. Just leaps right in. But Gunn and Fred are the same way."
"However, unlike them, he's my boyfriend."
Graham gulps. "Your, your boyfriend? The two of you?"
"Just kinda happened. You know how the heat of battle brings people together."
"Yeah. It makes sense," Graham rationalizes. "He's kind of a bad boy. Gritty, independent, rides a motorcycle. Girls for guys like that. Complicated brooding types with checkered pasts."
"Did you say brooding?," Riley asks with concern. He hasn't liked that word since meeting Angel.
"Well you're the same way, Ry. You went awol. You were a fugitive! Then there was the whole superman thing that nearly got you killed. Straight-arrows like me can't compete with that."
"Come on," Kelly says to Graham. "Stop trying to feel sorry for yourself. You're a stud."
"Yeah, you're a total hottie," Sam says, causing Riley some alarm. "If I wasn't with Ry."
"I don't need pity."
"We're serious," Kelly assures him. "You're a great catch."
"And I wasn't trying to sound sorry for myself. I was just making the point that women like complicated, edgy men with a little bit of a dark side."
"That's not true," Kelly responds. Then Sam and Kelly look at each other and realize Graham is on to something. "Well, not all women are like that."
It's been eight months since Spike and Angel left Scyra. In a large tent about 200 miles south and west of their homelands, Penelope and Hiero are having their wedding banquet. The tables are arranged in a U-shape, with the happy couple at the short end. Hiero wears Angel's golden crown, as well as the red robe and gold belt that are traditional for grooms his culture. Penelope wears a crown of fresh purple lilacs (extraordinarily difficult and expensive to obtain in the dead of winter in that region), a purple silk gown with gold embroidery, and an emerald gemstone hanging from a silver necklace. Along the side to their right is Penelope's mother, who is flanked by two expensively-dressed, important-looking men who vie for her attention. Across from them are Penelope's older brother Kreon and his wife Myrina, who were married seven months ago, barely six weeks after meeting. He wears Spike's silver diadem and she wears Spike's golden laurel crown. At the opposite end of the long tent from where Hiero and Penelope are seated, various musicians play lively dance music on flutes, strings and drums. Penelope's younger sister Andrea dances in a circle with her teenage female friends, while a large group of teenage boys dances nearby and tries to catch the girls' attention in general and Andrea's attention in particular. Meanwhile, their 12 year-old sister Atalanta runs around the tent, playing with the kids her age. The one person who doesn't look happy is Kreon.
"I still don't trust him," he tells Myrina about his former mortal enemy and current military rival Hiero.
"When will you trust him?"
"I dunno. In thirty years, if he's still with her."
"Kreon, just look at him. Hiero's crazy about your sister."
"Because he hasn't gotten what he wants yet." She hits him in the shoulder.
"Honey, don't be vulgar. Especially not tonight. Weddings are a beautiful thing."
"Ours sure was," Kreon says, managing a small smile. Then he looks over at his mother. "I can't stand these men. Following mom around like vultures."
"Vultures? They're the ones trying to buy her stuff."
"Mom's too proud ever to take their gifts."
"But she likes their attention. Let your mother have her moment in the sun."
"I'm glad she's happy. I guess I'm just so used to protecting her."
"Your mother or your sister?"
"All of them. After dad died, that was my job."
"And now they can look out for themselves. Well, except for Attie. But don't tell her that. She's always asking me when's Kreon gonna let me go on campaign? When's he gonna let me ride with Andrea?'"
"I thought you were teaching her art and writing and other good things that don't put her life in danger."
"She loves drawing, and she's good at math, but Attie's impatient with books."
"But she can read them?"
"First one in her family."
"Hey, I'm also learnin.'
"You still have a scribe read the treaties to you, right?"
"That's like fancy, official writing. In that funny script. Like I said, I'm learnin.' But I want Attie to have the chances we never had."
"And she wants to be like her big sisters. They're heroes. Everyone's always talking about the great things they do."
"That's cause they don't know what it's really like. War's not glamorous. They think it's like what Buffy does. But Buffy doesn't have to swim across rivers, climb over mountains and march knee-deep through swamps for thirty days before finally forcing the vampires to fight her. Attie deserves better than sleeping on the ground and worrying about ambushes. I want her to be like you: smart, creative, talented - "
"And with a wonderful husband?" Kreon smiles and kisses her. I knew I good get you to stop being so grumpy. To be fair, Attie is great at archery and horse riding. And she beats all the boys her age in wrestling."
"She wrestles with boys!?"
"She's already beaten all the girls."
"Perfect. Only twelve, and already she's got her share of Xanders." That's what they've started calling boys who are drawn to girls who can beat them up. "At least Andrea was fifteen before they started mobbing her. Look at all of them, trying to dance with her. And some of them look over twenty. I think I'll have to have a word with with a couple of those Angels." As a Spike devotee, Kreon uses that term to describe all young men who are attracted to younger girls.
"I think Andrea can take care of herself. She's got that dagger hanging from her belt, and those boys know how much she likes to use it."
"Of course they do. I think I've commanded some of them."
"I've missed you these last three months."
"I missed you too, love."
"At least Hiero and Penelope do the same work. We're not so lucky."
"Well, we got a week together while you're out here. And I'll be back home in two months. How is Zalma?"
"Busy. They're expanding the temple. Remember our wedding procession from steps of the temple down to the square?"
"I remember how beautiful you looked."
"You looked pretty good yourself. Made me feel like a real princess."
"Plenty of princesses in this world. Only one you." The two young lovers, who haven't seen much of each other since their wedding, start kissing. Kreon looks over at his sister and her new husband. "I don't think they'll miss us. Do you, my sweet?" That pet name is another Spike-ism Kreon adopted without concern for its original context.
"What happened to looking after your family?"
"I think they can look after themselves. Once again, you were right. Wait. Would skipping out right now be rude? You're the one who knows about things like that."
Myrina smiles and leans in to whisper into Kreon's right ear. "I think they'll understand. As for trying not to be rude, better your tent than this table."
Kreon likes the way she's thinking. He picks Myrina up. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him as they leave.
Riley and Kelly walk down the first floor hallway of a dorm building. "As someone who's been through fire drills on this campus, I don't think this will get everyone out in five minutes."
"Watch and learn," she replies before pulling the alarm. Both of them walk outside. Every alarm in every dorm on campus went off at the same time. In addition, the support troops drive around campus blaring sirens. "One alarm doesn't create panic. A few dozen – that's a different story. It's a warm May morning. Most of these buildings aren't air conditioned, so a lot of the students have their windows open."
"Which means they can hear everything around them. Surround-sound. Lets them know something really bad is happening."
"You've always been a quick study, Finney. Now get in character."
"Is this really necessary, or are you just having me do it for fun?"
"Both. Now be a good soldier. Insubordination will destroy our credibility." Riley groans in disapproval, puts on sunglasses and holds his M-16 across the front of his body. He is stone-faced and expressionless. Kelly jammed the two side exits shut so that everyone has no choice but to come out front, where she's waiting for them. Soldiers in jeeps and Humvees armed with mounted machine guns snake along the campus roads, adding to the sense that this is not a drill. Kelly looks over the half-dressed, frazzled and frightened students.
"Good morning. I am Major Kelly Campbell of the United States Army. Since 6:05 this morning, the town of Sunnydale has been in a state of emergency. For your own safety, you are being temporarily evacuated and taken to a secure location. From the moment I finish speaking, you will have exactly fifteen minutes to get dressed, pack what you can, and leave this campus. If you have a car, follow the signs to the staging area, then follow the escorts to safety. Otherwise, please get into one of the buses behind me. Anyone who violates these orders will be severely dealt with." She can tell that several dozen of the 150 or so people in front of her aren't taking her seriously. She nods. Nothing happens. She looks sternly at Riley and takes out her pistol. He sprays about fifty rounds into the windows above and behind the students. Several of them scream. The skeptics can see from all the shattered glass that he's not firing blanks.
"Fifteen minutes," Kelly reminds them. They look at Riley, listen to the sirens, catch sight of the military vehicles (they're aren't many, but they go in circles, giving the appearance of a larger presence), and rush back inside. Riley reaches up to take off his shades, but Kelly stops him. "Stay in character. I knew you'd make a good heavy." Kelly smiles and listens on her radio to reports about how things are going at the other dorms. Riley doesn't like the notion that he's convincing as a heartless soldier willing to mow down hundreds of American civilians for the slightest provocation. But Kelly knows that irrational times call for irrational threats.
Angel, who's sitting behind his desk, slams the phone down. Connor sits to his left at the side of the desk. On the other side of the room, Gunn, Fred, Wes and Lorne listen to the radio and watch the small television set they brought in.
"No answer," Angel announces with frustration and disappointment. "Phones are down. And her cell phone's not picking up."
"Same with Dawn's," Connor adds. Both of them look very concerned.
"What are they saying on the news?," Angel asks his friends.
"Same thing they were half an hour ago," Lorne answers. "People fleeing Sunnydale. Rumors that the army is booting them out. Nobody can get close enough to find out what's really going down."
"I know you're thinking apocalypse," Cordy says to Angel. "So let's assume that's what's happening. We know lots of people have made it out alive. And if there's one person in that town who'd survive something like that, it's Buffy. She's like a cockroach - in her ability to survive really awful things. So if the normals are fine, I'm sure Buffy's okay." Connor doesn't look happy. "And, of course, Dawn as well."
"How many Sunnydale apocalypses feature a sizeable military presence?," Wesley points out. "It doesn't fit."
"What about Kelly?," Gunn proposes.
"She's overseas," Wesley responds.
"You know that for sure?"
"Of course not. Kelly can't contact me while she's in the field."
"What if she ain't in the field? What if she's in Sunnyhell?"
"Then I would assume whatever she's involved in is classified."
"Still say she's worth a shot."
"Cordy's right. This isn't our problem," Angel tells his friends with less than complete conviction. "She can take care of herself. She's certainly tougher than any of us. Buffy can handle just about anything."
Kelly and a few other soldiers are in one of the student parking lots, making sure the students leave on time. She spots a man with wavy brown hair, soft blue eyes, a mustache and a goatee. He's comforting a frightened coed and putting her luggage in the trunk of his Audi. "Parker. No, that's my first name. So you're a sophomore. Me? I'm a grad student. History. What I love about history is that it's about ordinary people caught up in these huge events that seem to be beyond their control . . . "
Sam walks up to Kelly. "He's cute," she tells Kelly.
"Not cute enough to get away with those lame lines."
"Kind of looks like a poor woman's Jared Leto."
"You're right. There's definitely a resemblance."
"Why are we watching him?"
"I'm trying to decide if he's unfairly taking advantage of the situation."
Sam looks at Kelly and smiles. "You wanna bust him?"
"I like to think of it as performing a valuable public service."