stakeout chapter 8
The Bronze
Sunnydale, Ca.
September 24, 1998
Thursday 7:45 PM
Gabriel Martin really did not know what to expect when he entered the Bronze, but it certainly was not what he was used to.
Most of the bars and clubs he had been to in Sunnydale County were either crime scenes or criminal hangouts, usually both. First Asterisk was a cop bar, in a class by itself.
The Bronze was different, though. For one thing, it allowed teens to enter after stamping their hands to prevent them from buying alcohol. Another thing was the different cliques of teens were mingling without trouble. There were couches and tables scattered about, where people were chatting and drinking and listening to the halfway decent band that was playing.
Gabriel stood and took in the scene for a few moments until Tim stepped up beside him, scanning for possible threats. Most people would not have noticed the casual looking but through sweep, but Gabriel had worked with the former Ranger long enough to know what he was doing.
"Not exactly a hot zone, is it?" Gabriel took to quick look around to make sure he did not missing anything during his initial look around.
"More like a convention of Britney Spears and 'N Sync wanna-be's," Tim replied, nodding toward the dance floor, where a bunch of kids were thrashing about. "Either that's dancing or they're taking part in a collective seizure."
Gabriel grinned; Tim's acerbic wit was far superior to his, so most times he did not even try to match it. "You see anything out there, Tim?"
"Besides several violations of fashion and/or decency, no." Tim could be surprising stuffy for a guy his age.
"Come on, Tim. You grew up in the '70's and this freaks you out?" Gabriel motioned toward the crowd.
"That's exactly *why* I'm freaked," Tim shot back, a half-smile on his face. "You buying today?"
Gabriel groaned in response. He and Tim had shot it out the other day at the range and Gabriel had lost, but this time by only a small margin. He owed Tim a drink and he knew it. "Jack Daniels and Coke?" He asked innocently.
Tim snorted. They were both on-duty and could not drink alcohol. Gabriel as needling him by offering to buy his usual drink. "Sure. You're getting a Cuervo Gold, right?"
Gabriel shook his head in amusement as he walked toward the bar. Tim's own amusement was tempered by pity; at club prices, Gabriel would be paying almost as much for sodas as he would have for alcohol.
Automatically Tim moved so he was standing in the shadow of the staircase, partially hidden. Old habits died hard, especially the ones that kept you alive and out of sight of bad guys.
The band on stage was winding up it's set and Tim watched as they finished with a flourish. Tim could see the lead singer working the teenyboppers in the crowd, trying to score for the night. Finally the teen left the mike and Tim was able to see the band member behind him.
Tim was looking at the stage through narrowed eyes when a female voice spoke loudly behind him. "Let me guess, Xander, not only are you not on time, but you didn't get us a table like you were supposed to."
Turning around, Tim saw a stunning young woman; brown hair and eyes, tanned, expensively dressed. She looked ready to step onto the cover of a fashion magazine.
Once his face came out of the shadows and into view, the expression on the girl's face changed from mocking to stricken; the guy she had spoken to was not her boyfriend.
Just as her mouth opened to say something, Tim beat her to the punch. "I know my fashion sense isn't all that great, but I haven't had someone dress me in... months," Tim replied, straight faced, looking down at his faded blue jeans, dark blue shirt and old army field jacket. He managed to keep an offer to let her dress him to himself; although the girl looked to be about nineteen, these days you couldn't tell the jailbait from the adults.
As the stricken look turned into anger at being made fun of, Tim realized whom he was talking to. He kept this to himself, as the girl did not know who he was.
"Well, obviously you're not Xander. Even he wouldn't wear a caterpillar on his lip if he ever wanted to..." The girl's voice trailed off as she realized that she was about to give out too much information.
Tim's hand unconsciously went up to his oversized mustache, which he had grown out to Wyatt Earp proportions. Sheriff Greer and Gabriel Martin had authorized "relaxed grooming standards", so this was his form of taking advantage of that latitude. Matt Parker had grown out his blonde hair to where he wore it in a short ponytail, the Twins were wearing their hair longer than department regs normally allowed and Peter Murray had grown a goatee to go with his carefully trimmed mustache. Only Gabriel was still clean-shaven with short hair.
Part of Tim was amused by the girl's audacity; he was obviously at least 15 years older than she was, and she was tearing into him as though he was only a high school sophomore.
"Since I'm not your boyfriend, good luck finding him." And good luck to him dealing with her, Tim silently said to himself.
Watching as the girl flounced off, Tim turned to see Gabriel standing a few feet away holding two glasses, an amused look on his face.
"Remember that we're working here, Tim," Gabriel said mock-seriously as he handed a drink to him. Tim took a sip, tasting only Coke, no alcohol. "A little young, isn't she?"
"It's part of my charm. No woman can resist me." Tim's voice was appropriately deadpan as he spoke. "All Harris' have it, even my nephew."
"Why do you say that?" Gabriel took a sip of his Sprite.
"That was Cordelia Chase. She mistook me for her boyfriend, Xander Harris."
"No kidding?" Gabriel turned to see if he could catch a glimpse of her in the crowd.
"Yep. She left town for the summer. She knows about tangos, but she isn't into slaying like the others. She was mentioned in the early intel reports," Tim explained, the slightest hint of reproof in his voice.
"Anything else you want to tell me?" Gabriel turned back to face Tim.
"Besides that that Oz kid does a decent job of playing lead guitar in that band over there, no." Tim took another sip of his drink.
Gabriel looked up to the stage, where the redheaded kid was packing up his guitar. He looked back at Gabriel, who was smiling slightly.
"Touche', Tim. How long have you known there were here?" Gabriel asked sheepishly.
"Just as you went to get the drinks. Don't stress, Gabe." Tim sipped at his drink before speaking again. "You still not worried about me running into Xander here?"
"Not really. Even if you did, we should be OK." Gabriel and Tim had talked with Sheriff Greer about Tim's relationship with Xander. They had decided that as long as Stakeout's cover wasn't being compromised, Tim and the others could operate around the Slayer and her friends.
After another look around the club, Tim decided to bring up something that the two hadn't spoken about since it occurred. He needed to know if his team leader was OK with it. "You having any problems with what happened that Friday night?"
The smile left Gabriel's face; he knew what Tim was referring to. The night of the zombie attacks, when those kids died in front of them. Gabriel turned to see that Tim was watching him.
"I'm alright. I did your "plan B" and felt like hell the next day. Then you had to go and pull that bonehead stunt of your." Gabriel smiled ruefully at the memory, and Tim grinned in response.
SCSD Academy
September 14, 1998
Monday 7:00 AM
Gabriel was sure he was going to die today, and he hadn't even started running yet.
The training program for the Stakeout units was for the most part informal, but certain aspects of it were set in stone. The shooting competitions were one of them; the rigorous program improved everyone's shooting skill to where everyone in the unit now qualified as High Expert at the official monthly qualifications.
Another activity was the Monday morning runs. Everyone was required to stay in good physical shape and responsible for maintaining their conditioning. The Monday morning runs were to test that.
The SCSD Academy had their deputy cadet class run every Monday morning. Right now the cadet class was running three miles in thirty minutes; not a killer pace, but not a walk in the park either. To make the runs more interesting, the Academy Drill Instructors would take the class up and down hills, increasing the difficulty.
While the DIs were leading the class through calisthenics, Gabriel and the two teams were stretching in preparation for the run. Once the cadets were loosened up, the team members would take their place alongside the column of cadets, following the cadets on their run. The DIs would also run alongside, shouting colorful imprecations and threats to cadets who were in danger of falling out of the run. Falling out was serious - two consecutive dropouts would result in the cadet being dismissed from the Academy.
Gabriel was feeling terrible; on Saturday afternoon he and Tim had killed a bottle of tequila at Gabriel's apartment after completing the paperwork from the zombie attacks. Gabriel had let Tim crash on the couch since he obviously couldn't drive. The next day Gabriel found a note on his kitchen table next to a quart bottle of water and a container of aspirin, saying that he would see him at Monday morning PT.
Looking around, Gabriel saw that everyone except Tim was there. That was unusual; Tim had never missed a PT session. In fact, Tim was usually the first one there warming up.
Seeing that the DIs were forming up the cadets for the run, Gabriel turned to Peter Murray. The other team leader was on the ground, finishing his regular fifty pre-run push-ups. "You haven't heard from Tim today?"
Peter stood with a grunt, brushing off his hands as he answered his commander. "No. You worried about him not being here?"
Gabriel shook his head. "Not really. I'll start calling around after the run. It's just strange that he's not here."
Peter looked over Gabriel's shoulder and his eyes widened slightly. "I don't think that's what you have to worry about, boss man." He motioned with his chin for Gabriel to look behind him.
Once Gabriel saw what Peter was referring to his eyes widened as well. The missing team member was jogging up to their little group, looking ready to go to war.
Tim Harris would normally wear a tank top, camo BDU pants and sneakers when he went on his runs, standing out from the DIs and cadets in their customary shorts and t-shirts. But right now Tim was wearing a black BDU shirt and pants, battle harness and belt with a holstered pistol, boots, and had his rifle slung next to his side. As he came to a halt in front of Gabriel and Peter, he pulled a black bandana from a pocket and started to tie it around his head, pirate-style. "Morning, Gabe, Peter," he said in greeting. "Sorry I'm late."
"Morning." Gabriel looked over Tim again. "Don't you think you're a little overdressed for the run?"
"Nope. Just need to get the blood pumping this morning." Tim finished with the bandana and looked up his team leader. "How you doing, Gabe?"
Gabriel could not believe it; Tim had drunk as much as he had the day before and except for slightly bloodshot eyes, looked as he always did, while Gabriel felt like the living dead. He knew he couldn't hold his liquor, but this was ridiculous.
"Fine." Gabriel responded shortly. He looked at the assault rifle hanging at Tim's side. "That's not loaded, is it?
Tim detached the magazine from the weapon and pulled the charging handle back to open the chamber, showing them both to be empty. "I may be crazy, but I'm not insane," he said smiling as he replaced the magazine in the rifle. "Ready for the run?"
"If you are." Gabriel turned and walked over to the lead DI, who had formed the cadets into line for the run. "We're good to go, Gunny."
Sergeant Paul Baxter was a former Marine Drill Instructor; he had retired as a Gunnery Sergeant after twenty years in the Corps. Baxter joined the Sheriff's Department after blasting through the Academy as the number one cadet and was now doing the same thing he had done with Marine recruits at Parris Island. He knew what Tim was doing by being dressed as he was for the run, but his eyebrows were raised anyway as he looked at him. Turning and walking in front of the formation of cadets, he called out, "Eyeballs!"
"Click, sir!!!" The cadets called out as they turned their heads to look at the DI.
"Ears!" Baxter turned to face the cadets.
"Open, sir!!!" The DI had the cadets full attention.
"See that deputy in black over there!" Baxter gestured to Tim, who was standing casually in front of the assembled Stakeout team members. "That man is wearing twenty pounds of gear for this run. You people," disdain obvious in Baxter's voice as he spoke, "are wearing shorts and running shoes. There should be *no* reason for anyone to fall out."
"Sir yes sir!!!" The cadets were looking at the DI again.
"Company, a-ten-hut! Left, face!" The cadets were now facing down the empty two-lane road and Stakeout took their places besides the formation.
"Forward, march! Double time!"
"Ooh-rah!!!" The company of cadets began to run as the DIs kept pace besides them
"Mr. Murray, lead cadence," the lead DI called out. Baxter would let some of the Stakeout team members call cadence, used to keep the company in step and to motivate the cadets on the run. Peter Murray had the best singing voice, and Baxter would usually start with him, rotating the job between the various DIs, cadets and team members.
Peter started out with a running song he had heard Tim use, singing one line in his deep voice and waiting for the running men to repeat it before singing the next.
C-130s rolling down the strip,
Airborne Rangers going to take a little trip.
Mission's unspoken, destination unknown,
Don't even know if we'll ever get home.
Gabriel got his breathing stabilized before singing. Looking over at Tim beside him, he saw that the former Ranger had unslung his rifle and was cradling it in his left arm, muzzle pointed upwards. Tim was singing along with the cadence easily, the extra weight of his gear not visibly bothering him.
Stand up, buckle up, shuffle to the door,
Jump right out and shout "Airborne!"
If that chute don't open wide,
I've got another one by my side.
Tim felt Gabriel's eyes on him and turned, grinning in response. Gabriel shook his head and turned to the front, continuing to sing.
And if that chute don't blossom 'round,
I'll be the first one to hit the ground,
Singing lo, right, left,
Left right left,
Lo right left,
Love to double time...
*****
The company of cadets and team members were coming up to the last stretch of road before the Academy buildings. It was a couple hundred yards from the top of the slight hill to the stop sign they used as a marker for the end of the run, and almost everyone was glad to see it, even if they would not admit it aloud.
Gabriel no longer felt like he was going to die, but he did feel like throwing up. That was an improvement from the stabbing pain in his side that he had at the beginning of mile three, but that had eased out after a few minutes. Now that it was almost over, Gabriel remembered the old joke about the reason a man had given for hitting himself in the head with a two by four; because it felt so good when he stopped.
Baxter was finishing out the cadence he was singing when they crested the hill. The company relaxed a little once they saw the buildings ahead, knowing that the end was literally in sight.
Gabriel looked over at Tim beside him and felt a pang of jealously; the only sign of exertion from the run was the sweat stains on his bandana and under his armpits. Otherwise Tim was slightly spaced out, running along with an out of focus look in his eyes.
Once they came over the hill, Tim snapped out of it and looked around, seeing the looks of relief on the cadets' faces. Shaking his head in disbelief, Tim looked over at Gabriel and smirked.
"Don't say it, Tim," Gabriel cautioned. Tim had on other runs loudly questioned the fortitude of current youth in general, deputy cadets in particular and had proclaimed that the military draft needed to be reinstated to toughen up the modern American male. Gabriel agreed with most of what Tim said, but he didn't want to deal with the grief he got from upstairs when Tim went off on one of his little rants.
"OK then," replied Tim. "I'll just show everyone instead." Looking around one more time, Tim shifted his rifle to one hand and took off at a dead sprint.
"Oh shit," Gabriel groaned, taking off after him. Tim had done this kind of thing before, and the DIs always responded the same way.
"After them!" DI Baxter yelled out from the center of the group. The company of cadets tried to yell out a response, but most of them struggled to run faster after the racing deputy. The other Stakeout members just cursed under their breath and picked up their pace.
Tim was still ahead of the group, but a few of the cadets were catching up with him. Tim didn't look behind him, he just keep his legs pumping as he crossed for the finish line a couple yards ahead of the faster cadets
Gabriel was feeling the stabbing pain in his side again, but he managed to stay ahead of the main group of cadets when they crossed the stop line. Moving off to the side as the group slowed to a stop, Gabriel bent and put his hands on his knees as he breathed deeply, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.
Once he determined that he was not going to die, Gabriel looked up and saw Tim standing in front of him, breathing deeply but not as much as he was. Seeing Gabriel looking up at him, Tim grinned at him. "Feeling better now?"
Gabriel glared at his subordinate. "Once I put a ball and chain on you for these runs. Don't you even feel it after all that tequila?"
"Nope. Are you hungry? We can go to IHOP for scrambled eggs and sausage." Tim smiled evilly.
"You bastard," groaned Gabriel as bile rose in his throat, staggering off for the men's room as Tim stood there laughing at him.
The Bronze
Sunnydale, Ca.
September 24, 1998
Thursday 7:55 PM
"You don't approve of my little wind sprints during PT?" Tim asked as he tried to look innocent.
"No comment." Gabriel tossed off the rest of his drink and put the empty glass on a nearby table. "See anything else of interest out there?"
Tim took another look around the club before turning to face his team leader. "Not really. We can't really pick anyone out of this mess. It's not like the tangos wear capes and fangs here."
"True." One of the things that they never really got used to was what different sorts wound up being vampires. The teams had staked tangos that ranged from homeless people to high-school students to business types. "Back to our original plan, then," Gabriel continued, referring to their normal pattern of patrolling known vampire areas.
"Let's get going then." Tim finished his drink, and as he turned to put his glass next to Gabriel's he saw the young man walking by behind them. Pulling up short, the teen asked in some surprise, "Uncle Tim?"
Tim hesitated only a moment before replying. "Xander? How're you doing?"
"Fine, and you?" Xander Harris stuck his hand out toward his uncle and Tim shook it, an easy smile appearing on the younger man's face. "Haven't seen you in a while, Uncle Tim. Didn't know you came to the Bronze."
"Wanted to show my friend here some of the local nightlife." Gabriel made a slight choking sound, and Tim turned toward him. "Xander, this is Gabriel Martin. Gabe, my nephew Xander Harris."
Xander and Gabriel shook hands. "Xander? I haven't heard of a name like that before." Gabriel looked from Xander to Tim.
"It's short for Alexander. My friend Willow," Xander gestured toward the tables, "thought Alex was too common. You work with Uncle Tim at the hardware store?"
"I'm an engineer in the county waterworks department. We buy materials from your uncle's store. You're still in high school, right?" Gabriel asked, pretending ignorance and deflecting any more questions about him.
"Yep, senior this year, finally. Will and me come here a couple times a week with our other friends." Xander gestured again at the table area, and frowned slightly when he saw that the table was empty and that his friends were about to go out the door. "Looks like they're taking off, it was good to see you again, Uncle Tim."
"Come by the store one of these days and we'll catch up some more. Good to see you too." Tim clapped Xander on the shoulder before the teen moved off after his friends.
"Waterworks department?" Tim asked in a low voice as Xander went through the doorway.
"Had to say something. Couldn't say who I really work for, could I?" Gabriel replied. He would have said more, but he started digging in the coat pocket and pulled out a cell phone on vibration alert.
Tim watched as Gabriel put the phone to his ear and listened for a moment before keying it off and shoving it back in his coat pocket. "That was Scott, something's up," Gabriel said succinctly.
"Let's go then." Tim moved toward the exit doors with Gabriel behind him. Just as they went through the doors, Tim caught a glimpse of Xander and his friends were coming back into the club, including a short blonde girl.
Once Tim and Gabriel got outside and started walking toward the truck, they were surprised to see Scott Kelly waving to them from a doorway by an alley near the Bronze.
"What's going on, Scott?" Gabriel asked, stepping back into the doorway with Tim and out of sight of the kids in front of the club.
"I saw a fight going on in this alley here. A guy and a girl from the club came down here and the guy attacked the girl. I was about to call you when it ended, the girl's OK," Scott said quietly, his words suddenly coming to a stop
"And?" Gabriel was not sure if he should be concerned or not.
Scott hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "The guy was a tango, and this girl was bouncing him off the walls before staking him."
"So Summers got another tango?" Gabriel still didn't understand what was bothering the redheaded deputy.
"This girl was taller and had long dark hair, she definitely wasn't Buffy Summers." Scott looked from Gabriel to Tim and back again. "I think we got ourselves another Slayer."
end stakeout chapter 8