Chapter 4
1:30 P.M
For a very long time Wesley had thought that, while Justine had not killed him when she slit his throat, she might have killed some vital part of him nevertheless. The realization that he had betrayed one of the closest friends he had, that they had cut all ties with him seemed to have killed whatever ability he had to feel anything at all. The idea that he had let Lilah into his bed in order to feel something -- even if that thing was disgust -- had occurred to him more than once over the past months. His self-loathing had run so deep that nothing, even Angel's forgiveness, which he had demonstrated repeatedly, had managed to lift him out of the emotional void that he had been in.
Even now that he had begun fighting with Angel again, forming this new Watchers' Council, and taking a role of leadership again, for the most part he felt like he was still emotionally empty.
However, recently he had found out -- in mostly small ways and in a couple of big ones -- that he was capable of feeling something after all. He just wished that they could happen some other way.
When his phone had rung an hour ago, he had been expecting the worst. And the second that he heard Giles had been hit he felt something deep within him ache. He had never been particularly close to Giles when he had come to Sunnydale, mainly because he had been a firm believer in the rightness of the Council, something which Giles had good reason to doubt. But after he himself had left the Council, he had begun to appreciate the difficulties Giles had had walking the line between good and evil. And in the past few weeks he had come to see that he was as steady and unshakable as a rock for everybody here.
Earle (Wesley was sure that it was he who had pulled the trigger, guns seemed too impersonal for Bob) had chosen his target wisely even though he hadn't killed him. Despite the fact that she was strong and independent, Buffy still looked up to Giles. If anything happened to him she might become more dangerous. Furthermore, most of the higher echelon at Angel-Slayer Inc. cared very deeply about Giles, and almost all the Slayers who he had brought to fight The First had looked up to him as well -- maybe not as much as Buffy but still pretty high. More importantly they looked to Buffy. Wesley didn't want to think what condition she would be in, if she could lead at all. Someone would have to step up.
Therefore, after he received the call, when all his extremities were telling him to go to the hospital to see if his fellow Watcher would survive, he had assembled the troops and spoken as calmly as his racing heart would let him.
"I know that all of you are concerned about whether or not Giles will survive. I am as well. But the fact is we still have a job to do. Earle and Cooper are still out there and the trail is going colder as we speak. I don't want to use a cliché, but it's true: Giles wouldn't want us to quit while these killers are on the streets. So let's get back to work."
Most of the Slayers agreed, as well as the staff. The sole exception was Xander who had taken off to the hospital seconds after he had heard that Giles had been shot. Gunn had told Wesley that he would try and pick up the trail, so Wes had told him that he would take some people and meet him there. (Since it was now the middle of the morning, Angel had decided to stay inside the hospital and be with Buffy) Faith had volunteered to come along and they had been about to go when the phone rang again.
Robin picked it up: "Wait a minute." He listened for several seconds, then put his hand over the receiver and turned to the group. "It's Leonard."
Wesley was surprised. Before the search for Earle and Cooper had begun, Buffy and Angel had sent Leonard home thinking that, after what had happened to him, he wasn't going to be much help. Wesley hadn't been wild about the idea but, considering his recent hysterics, figured they were better off without him, at least for a while.
"What does he want?" asked Faith
"To talk to us." Robin turned on the speakerphone. "Go ahead."
"Giles has been shot," said Leonard without any preamble. That got Wesley's attention.
"How did you know that? Did you have a vision?"
"No. When I got home I took a pill and tried to get some sleep. I had one of my dreams."
"If that's all you got, I gotta tell you...we already knew that." Faith sounded pretty bitter.
"No. We're not the only ones trying to pick up Bob's trail."
"We knew that, too," said Robin.
"He doesn't mean the police and the FBI," said Wesley with a certainty he could not explain. "Who is it?
"He has two names. The important one is that which he uses when he is looking for Bob. Then he calls himself 'Mike.'"
"Are you saying that Mike is another spirit? Some good force to counter Bob?"
"No. I'm not sure how this is possible, but I think that Mike used to work with Bob before he managed to free himself. "
"I see." It said something about the kind of lives that they that Wes didn't find this explanation very strange. "How do we find him?"
"I think I know where he is. Get a group together and meet me on 27th and Brookhaven."
Wesley looked at the phone in surprise. The streets he had listed were only a block away from the motel. "Was this in your dream?"
"No."
Wesley couldn't tell but Leonard sounded a bit smug."Then where did you get that address?"
"I just knew." Leonard hung up.
Wesley wasn't entirely sure he liked that, in less than twelve hours after having an experience that nearly emotionally crippled him, Leonard now sounded almost normal about another experience. Nor was he particularly happy that they were going to be near a motel where, given the events of a few hours ago, a police presence was expected. But as Fred put it when she heard about it: "It's not like we have a whole lot of choices. Even with all the resources we have available, these are two guys who can do a good job of hiding. They showed us their hand once. It'll be a while before they try that trick again."
So Wes had called Gunn, had given him the new meeting place and then went there with Faith. It took them only ten minutes to get there, but somehow Wesley wasn't surprised to find Gunn already waiting for them. Despite the fact that they had been here for three years Gunn still knew the city better than any of them.
"How's Giles doing?" Faith asked ten seconds after seeing him.
Gunn swallowed. "Giles was hit once in the chest. The bullet missed the heart and the lungs but nicked the pulmonary artery. When I left, they were taking him up to surgery. The doctors are hopeful but they say its still 50-50 that he'll make it."
Wesley took all this in with little surprise but a lot of pain nevertheless. "How do you think he'll do?"
"Giles is strong, but he's not a Slayer. If he's going to make, it's going to be up to him." Gunn looked at Wesley with the slightest discomfort. "I'm getting tired of seeing friends of mine get shot."
Faith looked a little confused at the last comment. "This is a pre-Angel problem or did I miss another great thing?"
Gunn stared at Wesley. "Did you tell the others about what happened to you two years ago?"
Wesley tried to dodge the question. "A lot has happened in the past two years. You'll have to be more specific."
"Don't be shy, Wesley. You know what I'm talking about."
Wesley did know what Charles was talking about, but he didn't particularly want to be reminded of it. He had cheated death a lot since coming to Los Angeles, but the shooting had been one of the darkest times in his life – or, to be more accurate, his post-abduction life.
Faith was now starting to get pissed. "Would someone care to tell me what the hell you're talking about?"
Wesley put his hands in his pockets and turned towards her. "Two years ago Gunn and his friends had been pursuing some reports of hostile police officers in his old neighborhood. I ran across one while he had Gunn cornered. I asked him to reconsider his actions and he shot me in the stomach."
Faith took this in. "For no reason?" Wesley nodded. "Damn, and I thought the fuzz in Sunnydale could be strange."
"Of course it did turn out that this police officer and a group of his fellow cops were actually zombies." said Gunn. "I suppose it was part of the resourcefulness of the LAPD that even dead cops can serve a purpose."
"How bad was it?" asked Faith.
"I was in the hospital for several days. Then I was in a wheelchair for a few weeks." Wesley took a deep breath. "Not an experience I'd like to repeat."
"I can relate to that." Everyone looked up. Leonard was standing a few feet away. He looked a little better than when they had seen him last, but he still appeared rather pale.
"How's it going?" Wesley asked.
"I think that I might be getting past—what happened." Leonard sounded cheerful but it seemed forced as he walked towards them.
"Then why are you wearing a sweater when its eighty degrees?" Gunn asked, looking at him.
All pretense of cheer disappeared from Leonard's voice. "Look, I have some more information that may help us find Bob. You want to have tea or can we get down to business?"
Wesley figured there was no point in playing softball. The time for subtlety had passed. "What do you know?"
"When Cooper had his first dream about Bob, he saw another man who gave him a lot of details about him. According to Cooper, this man was in his fifties, had brown hair and a beard... and one arm"
"Great. Now we're channeling Richard Kimble." said Faith "Now was this a real person or a spirit."
"'Mike' was the name of this being. Like Bob, it had been using a human host for an extended period of time. The man's name is Philip Michael Gerard. He's a shoe salesman." Noticing the expressions of the others, he added: "And no, the middle name is not a coincidence."
"How did Mike and Bob know each other?" asked Wesley.
"Apparently, at one point, Mike worked with Bob. Some kind of servant. He bore his mark -- I have no idea what kind -- on his left arm and this somehow bound him to Bob. It was only through some great epiphany that he was able to free himself from Bob's influence."
"How did he do it?" asked Gunn.
"He amputated the arm that had the mark." There was silence for several seconds.
"How...how did he..." said Wesley.
"It wasn't easy. Especially since he had to make it seem accidental"
"What are you talking about?"
"Like Leland Palmer, Mike had been using Gerard as a host for years without his knowing it. The major difference was that Gerard at least suspected that there was something wrong with him. Gerard had been hospitalized with some form of schizophrenic episodes that were really Mike's attempts to surface. At the end of one of those episodes, Gerard was in an automobile accident and lost his arm. After that, they had to put Gerard on some pretty potent anti-psychotics before Mike went away"
"And this all came to you in a dream?" Considering everything that he had heard, Wesley found this the hardest part of the story to believe. It wasn't like this was prophetic. It was far too linear for that.
"It wasn't just a dream. I guess you'd call it a shared experience. When I was sleeping my defenses were down, and I think that somehow Mike appeared before me and explained his story." Leonard gave another smile that had no humor in it. "Call it a meeting of the unconscious minds."
"So how does this story help us? Unless you can tell us how to find Mike or Gerard or whatever the hell this thing is?" asked Faith.
"Mike has been drawn to Bob no matter what form he's taken. When the first killings took place in Twin Peaks, Gerard showed up there the day after the murders. Mike surfaced soon after. Cooper used him to find Bob in Leland Palmer. Since then he has not been consciously active."
Something clicked in Wesley's head. "But unconsciously..."
"The day Earle helped Cooper escape from the asylum, Gerard began a trip that would take him to California. Though he isn't aware of it, he has been traveling south on a route that is following Bob's path of destruction. He arrived in L.A. yesterday -- in that motel "He gestured to the building across the street.
"And you think that Mike knows what Bob's next step is." Gunn said. Leonard nodded. "Then what are we waiting for?"
"Hold it. "Wesley didn't want to rain on anyone's parade, but he had detected a flaw in Leonard's reasoning. "You said that Mike is still dormant within Gerard."
Leonard seemed a little uncomfortable about this. "He's not active, no."
"Then how exactly do we get him out and use him to help us?"
"I don't know, but I do know that the closer he gets to Bob, the more active Mike becomes. Considering where he is, I should imagine that he's at the surface now."
"And what makes you so sure that Mike will help us? Considering his relationship to Bob?"
Leonard looked at Wesley as if he had grown an extra head. "He knows how evil Bob is, and he knows how powerful a force that he represents. All we have to do is bring him out. He'll do the rest."
They all considered this. Faith finally spoke. "He's over there?"
"Yeah."
"Then we don't lose much by trying. And this may be our only real chance. I say we go for it."
Wesley knew that Faith and Charles were right. "All right. Let's go." As they walked, Wesley tried to understand what about this seemed false. Leonard hadn't led them astray before and this seemed to be the right path. But he still couldn't help but feel that they were crossing a boundary they might not be able to get back from.
After he had heard that Giles had been shot, Xander had left so rapidly that he had not even asked Dawn if she wanted to come to the hospital. Which was probably a good thing even though she didn't want to admit it.
Dawn still wasn't sure what to think of her life any further back than three years ago. In a purely logical sense she understood that all the memories before that were false, and designed by a power far greater than her. But they still seemed vivid. She could recall the long fights that her parents had before they divorced, or how she had spent her tenth birthday at a Sunnydale carousel with only Buffy and her mother, or the long fight Buffy and her mother had when she told her that she was the Slayer, even though she hadn't really been there for any of it.
One memory that was very clear was how much of her life had been spent in hospitals -- not because something had happened to her but for someone she knew. And over that time (but especially since her mother's illness) she had realized how much she hated the places. She hated the smell, a mixture of antiseptic and medicine. She hated the bleached out look of the walls and floors. But most of all she hated the faces of the doctors and nurses. Not because they were unpleasant or discouraging, but because they always seemed to be trying to find a way to not tell you bad news. When her mother had been recovering from the removal of her tumor, the doctors had emphasized often that she was probably going to fully recover. They had mentioned that there was a chance of problems, but they had undervalued them, at least to Dawn.
So when she had heard that Giles was in the hospital, despite her concern for him, she had opted to stay at the office and try and do some work. She knew that she was probably being a coward, but she just couldn't bear being at there now. More overwhelming than her worry for Giles was seeing Buffy's face -- using every muscle to try and seem brave while dying inside. Dawn had seen that on her face when their mother had been ill. She couldn't see it now. Not yet.
Unfortunately, she was seeing Buffy's face anyway. Every time Dawn tried to concentrate on some of the traffic photos and motel receipts, in her mind's eye she saw Buffy waiting in the hallway of the hospital. In her mind Buffy was trying really hard not to cry because she had been through so much, but this...this was something she couldn't handle. Dawn didn't know if she could handle it either.
She was about to give in and try to get a ride to the hospital anyway when she looked up and saw the last person that she had expected to see.
"Andrew." The young nerd seemed almost as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
"Hey Dawn. I didn't know that you were still here. I kinda figured you'd be at the hospital."
"Yeah, well somebody has to do the important work around here." Dawn said, trying to sound brave.
Andrew looked at her for a moment, as if he were seriously considering leaving, then he shrugged his shoulders. "Um I was going through some of the original police reports and I had this idea. So I was looking around for someone I could bounce it off of but most of the board is gone." The more he spoke, the more sure Dawn was that Andrew was trying to shrink into the wall.
"Isn't Fred still around?" Dawn knew that Andrew had a built up a little simpatico with her over the past few weeks.
"She and Lorne are busy trying to tap some demon resources to get a read on Bob. I didn't want to get in the way, especially with something I'm not sure of."
"So I'm your last choice," Dawn said, feeling a little underappreciated.
"Hey if it were the other way around, would I be your first choice?"
Dawn thought it over. "Touché. All right, what's your theory?"
Andrew hesitated. "All right, but I'm telling you up front, its pretty TV-MA."
Dawn took this under advisement for a few seconds. "I can handle it."
"Okay, we've been operating under the assumption that Earle and Cooper have been committing these murders together."
Dawn was puzzled already. "What makes you think that they're not?"
"I'd believe that if Earle and Cooper were the only ones here. Two minds thinking in unison might play. But Bob doesn't think like a normal man, even one as lunatic as Earle's."
Dawn thought this over. "What are you getting at?"
"What if Earle and Bob aren't working together? What if Bob is the only one committing the murders?"
"You're saying Earle isn't a killer?" she asked incredulously.
"Oh no, he's definitely homicidal. But the killings don't have any of his style. All of the murders that have been reported have the earmarks of something that Bob would do." Andrew grimaced a little. "Bob believes in overkill and torture. Earle just kills a person and is over with it."
Dawn considered the possibility reluctantly. "Aside from the 'ewww' factor, how does Bob being the one committing the murders help us?"
"Something else: according to the FBI files, Earle stalked his victims. Bob did the murders. What if Earle is doing the legwork and Bob did the murders alone?"
"I suppose that's possible. But again, how does it help us?"
"Maybe Earle and Bob are working separately of each other. We've been trying to locate two men together...."
"...When we could be looking for them separately." Suddenly Dawn got it. "Interesting theory but we still don't know where to find either of them."
"Maybe we do." Off Dawn's look, he went on: "Serial killers -- which, no matter how much supernatural stuff they have is what Bob and Earle are -- usually follow the same patterns. Not only in the murders but in their method of selecting victims. From what information we got in the files, Earle's pattern for selecting victims was to go to popular hangouts and look for women who fit his parameters."
"Let me ask you something, Andrew. If you had just fired shots at a group of strangers in a motel, exposing yourself for the police and everybody else, wouldn't that cause you to break your model?'
Andrew stopped for a minute. "First of all, Angel and the others have gone to an enormous amount of trouble to make sure that no one in L.A. besides the FBI knows that we think Windom Earle was the shooter." Upon seeing the look of surprise on her face, he added: "Hey what's the use of having access to one of the biggest media outlets in the country if you can't use it when you need it?"
"So you're saying that the police don't know who...fired on Buffy?" Somehow Dawn couldn't use the right phrase to explain what had happened.
"As far as the media is concerned, the identity of the shooter remains unknown.
Besides the old law enforcement, we're the only people who know who it was." Andrew paused. "But I think that even if Earle and Cooper had had their names and faces plastered all over the news, they still would be trying the same plan."
"What makes you sure about that?"
"Because killers are like vampires and demons in a key way: once they have a plan that works, they will stick to it no matter whatever the risks. If they do it any other way, they won't feel right."
Dawn listened to his theory. It sounded reasonable, but there was something about it that troubled her. "How do you know so much about this?"
"Excuse me?"
"You don't have any experience in tracking these kinds of people."
Andrew looked at her before smiling. The smile creeped Dawn out but she couldn't tell why. "Because I killed a man, Dawn. I have a killer's mind. I was never a criminal mastermind like I planned, but I know how these...people think now. It's a part of me."
Now Dawn knew why Andrew's smile creeped her out. She decided that it was time to move on. "So do you have any idea on how to track these guys?"
"I think so. Based on who he targets, my guess is that Earle will be checking out places like... the Bronze or its L.A. equivalent. Someplace where teenage girls hang out."
"That covers a lot of ground."
"Maybe, but I'm betting that Earle will stick to some places in the part of the city near the motel." He handed her a map. "There are three or four within five miles of it."
"You think he'll be that brave?" said Dawn questioningly.
"I think he'll be that arrogant. He'll think he's sent a message to us, and that he's going on with his work. Do you think that Fred or whoever's in charge now would be willing to spare a couple of Slayers for this?"
"Well you're going to need to work to convince her." Dawn paused. "Maybe if I tell him that I think your theory's valid, she'll send out some people."
A look of gratitude that Dawn didn't think Andrew was capable of expressing appeared on his face. "Really? That... that would mean a lot. You sure about this?"
"Pretty sure." said Dawn as she began to walk towards the door.
Andrew hesitated. "Thanks."
"I hope that this pans out." They left the room.
The people at Angel-Slayer Inc. knew that the former owners of their building had one of the most complex security systems in the world -- one that rivaled many nuclear missile silos. They knew that someone was monitoring it, but they figured they were safe. So everyone had forgotten about the hidden closed-circuit cameras that were in practically every room in the building.
But even if they had remembered, they wouldn't have known that, given the proper assistance, it could be hacked into by an outside source very easily.
Even if they had known that, they wouldn't have suspected that the outside source could be as close as the building next door.
And they wouldn't have known that the last person that should know about their operations had just heard Dawn and Andrew's private conversation.
"Clever boy, that Andrew," said the man who had once been Special Agent Dale Cooper. "Good deduction. If I hadn't just heard that conversation, I'd have thought that it might work. But apparently our message to Miss Summers wasn't received." His grin would have caused a sane man to run in terror. "I guess I'll have to use smaller words -- or maybe smaller people." He looked at the monitor closely.
"That girl ... she's the right type. It'll certainly send Miss Summers the right message." He smiled contently. "I think she will fit the bill." He turned to the other man in the room. "Don't you think so?"
If the other occupant -- a security guard working the night shift -- had heard this he would have left in a hurry. But he never heard a word. Probably because his throat had been cut from ear to ear.
"Yes, I think she'll make an appropriate message " Bob said.
---------
1:30 P.M
For a very long time Wesley had thought that, while Justine had not killed him when she slit his throat, she might have killed some vital part of him nevertheless. The realization that he had betrayed one of the closest friends he had, that they had cut all ties with him seemed to have killed whatever ability he had to feel anything at all. The idea that he had let Lilah into his bed in order to feel something -- even if that thing was disgust -- had occurred to him more than once over the past months. His self-loathing had run so deep that nothing, even Angel's forgiveness, which he had demonstrated repeatedly, had managed to lift him out of the emotional void that he had been in.
Even now that he had begun fighting with Angel again, forming this new Watchers' Council, and taking a role of leadership again, for the most part he felt like he was still emotionally empty.
However, recently he had found out -- in mostly small ways and in a couple of big ones -- that he was capable of feeling something after all. He just wished that they could happen some other way.
When his phone had rung an hour ago, he had been expecting the worst. And the second that he heard Giles had been hit he felt something deep within him ache. He had never been particularly close to Giles when he had come to Sunnydale, mainly because he had been a firm believer in the rightness of the Council, something which Giles had good reason to doubt. But after he himself had left the Council, he had begun to appreciate the difficulties Giles had had walking the line between good and evil. And in the past few weeks he had come to see that he was as steady and unshakable as a rock for everybody here.
Earle (Wesley was sure that it was he who had pulled the trigger, guns seemed too impersonal for Bob) had chosen his target wisely even though he hadn't killed him. Despite the fact that she was strong and independent, Buffy still looked up to Giles. If anything happened to him she might become more dangerous. Furthermore, most of the higher echelon at Angel-Slayer Inc. cared very deeply about Giles, and almost all the Slayers who he had brought to fight The First had looked up to him as well -- maybe not as much as Buffy but still pretty high. More importantly they looked to Buffy. Wesley didn't want to think what condition she would be in, if she could lead at all. Someone would have to step up.
Therefore, after he received the call, when all his extremities were telling him to go to the hospital to see if his fellow Watcher would survive, he had assembled the troops and spoken as calmly as his racing heart would let him.
"I know that all of you are concerned about whether or not Giles will survive. I am as well. But the fact is we still have a job to do. Earle and Cooper are still out there and the trail is going colder as we speak. I don't want to use a cliché, but it's true: Giles wouldn't want us to quit while these killers are on the streets. So let's get back to work."
Most of the Slayers agreed, as well as the staff. The sole exception was Xander who had taken off to the hospital seconds after he had heard that Giles had been shot. Gunn had told Wesley that he would try and pick up the trail, so Wes had told him that he would take some people and meet him there. (Since it was now the middle of the morning, Angel had decided to stay inside the hospital and be with Buffy) Faith had volunteered to come along and they had been about to go when the phone rang again.
Robin picked it up: "Wait a minute." He listened for several seconds, then put his hand over the receiver and turned to the group. "It's Leonard."
Wesley was surprised. Before the search for Earle and Cooper had begun, Buffy and Angel had sent Leonard home thinking that, after what had happened to him, he wasn't going to be much help. Wesley hadn't been wild about the idea but, considering his recent hysterics, figured they were better off without him, at least for a while.
"What does he want?" asked Faith
"To talk to us." Robin turned on the speakerphone. "Go ahead."
"Giles has been shot," said Leonard without any preamble. That got Wesley's attention.
"How did you know that? Did you have a vision?"
"No. When I got home I took a pill and tried to get some sleep. I had one of my dreams."
"If that's all you got, I gotta tell you...we already knew that." Faith sounded pretty bitter.
"No. We're not the only ones trying to pick up Bob's trail."
"We knew that, too," said Robin.
"He doesn't mean the police and the FBI," said Wesley with a certainty he could not explain. "Who is it?
"He has two names. The important one is that which he uses when he is looking for Bob. Then he calls himself 'Mike.'"
"Are you saying that Mike is another spirit? Some good force to counter Bob?"
"No. I'm not sure how this is possible, but I think that Mike used to work with Bob before he managed to free himself. "
"I see." It said something about the kind of lives that they that Wes didn't find this explanation very strange. "How do we find him?"
"I think I know where he is. Get a group together and meet me on 27th and Brookhaven."
Wesley looked at the phone in surprise. The streets he had listed were only a block away from the motel. "Was this in your dream?"
"No."
Wesley couldn't tell but Leonard sounded a bit smug."Then where did you get that address?"
"I just knew." Leonard hung up.
Wesley wasn't entirely sure he liked that, in less than twelve hours after having an experience that nearly emotionally crippled him, Leonard now sounded almost normal about another experience. Nor was he particularly happy that they were going to be near a motel where, given the events of a few hours ago, a police presence was expected. But as Fred put it when she heard about it: "It's not like we have a whole lot of choices. Even with all the resources we have available, these are two guys who can do a good job of hiding. They showed us their hand once. It'll be a while before they try that trick again."
So Wes had called Gunn, had given him the new meeting place and then went there with Faith. It took them only ten minutes to get there, but somehow Wesley wasn't surprised to find Gunn already waiting for them. Despite the fact that they had been here for three years Gunn still knew the city better than any of them.
"How's Giles doing?" Faith asked ten seconds after seeing him.
Gunn swallowed. "Giles was hit once in the chest. The bullet missed the heart and the lungs but nicked the pulmonary artery. When I left, they were taking him up to surgery. The doctors are hopeful but they say its still 50-50 that he'll make it."
Wesley took all this in with little surprise but a lot of pain nevertheless. "How do you think he'll do?"
"Giles is strong, but he's not a Slayer. If he's going to make, it's going to be up to him." Gunn looked at Wesley with the slightest discomfort. "I'm getting tired of seeing friends of mine get shot."
Faith looked a little confused at the last comment. "This is a pre-Angel problem or did I miss another great thing?"
Gunn stared at Wesley. "Did you tell the others about what happened to you two years ago?"
Wesley tried to dodge the question. "A lot has happened in the past two years. You'll have to be more specific."
"Don't be shy, Wesley. You know what I'm talking about."
Wesley did know what Charles was talking about, but he didn't particularly want to be reminded of it. He had cheated death a lot since coming to Los Angeles, but the shooting had been one of the darkest times in his life – or, to be more accurate, his post-abduction life.
Faith was now starting to get pissed. "Would someone care to tell me what the hell you're talking about?"
Wesley put his hands in his pockets and turned towards her. "Two years ago Gunn and his friends had been pursuing some reports of hostile police officers in his old neighborhood. I ran across one while he had Gunn cornered. I asked him to reconsider his actions and he shot me in the stomach."
Faith took this in. "For no reason?" Wesley nodded. "Damn, and I thought the fuzz in Sunnydale could be strange."
"Of course it did turn out that this police officer and a group of his fellow cops were actually zombies." said Gunn. "I suppose it was part of the resourcefulness of the LAPD that even dead cops can serve a purpose."
"How bad was it?" asked Faith.
"I was in the hospital for several days. Then I was in a wheelchair for a few weeks." Wesley took a deep breath. "Not an experience I'd like to repeat."
"I can relate to that." Everyone looked up. Leonard was standing a few feet away. He looked a little better than when they had seen him last, but he still appeared rather pale.
"How's it going?" Wesley asked.
"I think that I might be getting past—what happened." Leonard sounded cheerful but it seemed forced as he walked towards them.
"Then why are you wearing a sweater when its eighty degrees?" Gunn asked, looking at him.
All pretense of cheer disappeared from Leonard's voice. "Look, I have some more information that may help us find Bob. You want to have tea or can we get down to business?"
Wesley figured there was no point in playing softball. The time for subtlety had passed. "What do you know?"
"When Cooper had his first dream about Bob, he saw another man who gave him a lot of details about him. According to Cooper, this man was in his fifties, had brown hair and a beard... and one arm"
"Great. Now we're channeling Richard Kimble." said Faith "Now was this a real person or a spirit."
"'Mike' was the name of this being. Like Bob, it had been using a human host for an extended period of time. The man's name is Philip Michael Gerard. He's a shoe salesman." Noticing the expressions of the others, he added: "And no, the middle name is not a coincidence."
"How did Mike and Bob know each other?" asked Wesley.
"Apparently, at one point, Mike worked with Bob. Some kind of servant. He bore his mark -- I have no idea what kind -- on his left arm and this somehow bound him to Bob. It was only through some great epiphany that he was able to free himself from Bob's influence."
"How did he do it?" asked Gunn.
"He amputated the arm that had the mark." There was silence for several seconds.
"How...how did he..." said Wesley.
"It wasn't easy. Especially since he had to make it seem accidental"
"What are you talking about?"
"Like Leland Palmer, Mike had been using Gerard as a host for years without his knowing it. The major difference was that Gerard at least suspected that there was something wrong with him. Gerard had been hospitalized with some form of schizophrenic episodes that were really Mike's attempts to surface. At the end of one of those episodes, Gerard was in an automobile accident and lost his arm. After that, they had to put Gerard on some pretty potent anti-psychotics before Mike went away"
"And this all came to you in a dream?" Considering everything that he had heard, Wesley found this the hardest part of the story to believe. It wasn't like this was prophetic. It was far too linear for that.
"It wasn't just a dream. I guess you'd call it a shared experience. When I was sleeping my defenses were down, and I think that somehow Mike appeared before me and explained his story." Leonard gave another smile that had no humor in it. "Call it a meeting of the unconscious minds."
"So how does this story help us? Unless you can tell us how to find Mike or Gerard or whatever the hell this thing is?" asked Faith.
"Mike has been drawn to Bob no matter what form he's taken. When the first killings took place in Twin Peaks, Gerard showed up there the day after the murders. Mike surfaced soon after. Cooper used him to find Bob in Leland Palmer. Since then he has not been consciously active."
Something clicked in Wesley's head. "But unconsciously..."
"The day Earle helped Cooper escape from the asylum, Gerard began a trip that would take him to California. Though he isn't aware of it, he has been traveling south on a route that is following Bob's path of destruction. He arrived in L.A. yesterday -- in that motel "He gestured to the building across the street.
"And you think that Mike knows what Bob's next step is." Gunn said. Leonard nodded. "Then what are we waiting for?"
"Hold it. "Wesley didn't want to rain on anyone's parade, but he had detected a flaw in Leonard's reasoning. "You said that Mike is still dormant within Gerard."
Leonard seemed a little uncomfortable about this. "He's not active, no."
"Then how exactly do we get him out and use him to help us?"
"I don't know, but I do know that the closer he gets to Bob, the more active Mike becomes. Considering where he is, I should imagine that he's at the surface now."
"And what makes you so sure that Mike will help us? Considering his relationship to Bob?"
Leonard looked at Wesley as if he had grown an extra head. "He knows how evil Bob is, and he knows how powerful a force that he represents. All we have to do is bring him out. He'll do the rest."
They all considered this. Faith finally spoke. "He's over there?"
"Yeah."
"Then we don't lose much by trying. And this may be our only real chance. I say we go for it."
Wesley knew that Faith and Charles were right. "All right. Let's go." As they walked, Wesley tried to understand what about this seemed false. Leonard hadn't led them astray before and this seemed to be the right path. But he still couldn't help but feel that they were crossing a boundary they might not be able to get back from.
After he had heard that Giles had been shot, Xander had left so rapidly that he had not even asked Dawn if she wanted to come to the hospital. Which was probably a good thing even though she didn't want to admit it.
Dawn still wasn't sure what to think of her life any further back than three years ago. In a purely logical sense she understood that all the memories before that were false, and designed by a power far greater than her. But they still seemed vivid. She could recall the long fights that her parents had before they divorced, or how she had spent her tenth birthday at a Sunnydale carousel with only Buffy and her mother, or the long fight Buffy and her mother had when she told her that she was the Slayer, even though she hadn't really been there for any of it.
One memory that was very clear was how much of her life had been spent in hospitals -- not because something had happened to her but for someone she knew. And over that time (but especially since her mother's illness) she had realized how much she hated the places. She hated the smell, a mixture of antiseptic and medicine. She hated the bleached out look of the walls and floors. But most of all she hated the faces of the doctors and nurses. Not because they were unpleasant or discouraging, but because they always seemed to be trying to find a way to not tell you bad news. When her mother had been recovering from the removal of her tumor, the doctors had emphasized often that she was probably going to fully recover. They had mentioned that there was a chance of problems, but they had undervalued them, at least to Dawn.
So when she had heard that Giles was in the hospital, despite her concern for him, she had opted to stay at the office and try and do some work. She knew that she was probably being a coward, but she just couldn't bear being at there now. More overwhelming than her worry for Giles was seeing Buffy's face -- using every muscle to try and seem brave while dying inside. Dawn had seen that on her face when their mother had been ill. She couldn't see it now. Not yet.
Unfortunately, she was seeing Buffy's face anyway. Every time Dawn tried to concentrate on some of the traffic photos and motel receipts, in her mind's eye she saw Buffy waiting in the hallway of the hospital. In her mind Buffy was trying really hard not to cry because she had been through so much, but this...this was something she couldn't handle. Dawn didn't know if she could handle it either.
She was about to give in and try to get a ride to the hospital anyway when she looked up and saw the last person that she had expected to see.
"Andrew." The young nerd seemed almost as surprised to see her as she was to see him.
"Hey Dawn. I didn't know that you were still here. I kinda figured you'd be at the hospital."
"Yeah, well somebody has to do the important work around here." Dawn said, trying to sound brave.
Andrew looked at her for a moment, as if he were seriously considering leaving, then he shrugged his shoulders. "Um I was going through some of the original police reports and I had this idea. So I was looking around for someone I could bounce it off of but most of the board is gone." The more he spoke, the more sure Dawn was that Andrew was trying to shrink into the wall.
"Isn't Fred still around?" Dawn knew that Andrew had a built up a little simpatico with her over the past few weeks.
"She and Lorne are busy trying to tap some demon resources to get a read on Bob. I didn't want to get in the way, especially with something I'm not sure of."
"So I'm your last choice," Dawn said, feeling a little underappreciated.
"Hey if it were the other way around, would I be your first choice?"
Dawn thought it over. "Touché. All right, what's your theory?"
Andrew hesitated. "All right, but I'm telling you up front, its pretty TV-MA."
Dawn took this under advisement for a few seconds. "I can handle it."
"Okay, we've been operating under the assumption that Earle and Cooper have been committing these murders together."
Dawn was puzzled already. "What makes you think that they're not?"
"I'd believe that if Earle and Cooper were the only ones here. Two minds thinking in unison might play. But Bob doesn't think like a normal man, even one as lunatic as Earle's."
Dawn thought this over. "What are you getting at?"
"What if Earle and Bob aren't working together? What if Bob is the only one committing the murders?"
"You're saying Earle isn't a killer?" she asked incredulously.
"Oh no, he's definitely homicidal. But the killings don't have any of his style. All of the murders that have been reported have the earmarks of something that Bob would do." Andrew grimaced a little. "Bob believes in overkill and torture. Earle just kills a person and is over with it."
Dawn considered the possibility reluctantly. "Aside from the 'ewww' factor, how does Bob being the one committing the murders help us?"
"Something else: according to the FBI files, Earle stalked his victims. Bob did the murders. What if Earle is doing the legwork and Bob did the murders alone?"
"I suppose that's possible. But again, how does it help us?"
"Maybe Earle and Bob are working separately of each other. We've been trying to locate two men together...."
"...When we could be looking for them separately." Suddenly Dawn got it. "Interesting theory but we still don't know where to find either of them."
"Maybe we do." Off Dawn's look, he went on: "Serial killers -- which, no matter how much supernatural stuff they have is what Bob and Earle are -- usually follow the same patterns. Not only in the murders but in their method of selecting victims. From what information we got in the files, Earle's pattern for selecting victims was to go to popular hangouts and look for women who fit his parameters."
"Let me ask you something, Andrew. If you had just fired shots at a group of strangers in a motel, exposing yourself for the police and everybody else, wouldn't that cause you to break your model?'
Andrew stopped for a minute. "First of all, Angel and the others have gone to an enormous amount of trouble to make sure that no one in L.A. besides the FBI knows that we think Windom Earle was the shooter." Upon seeing the look of surprise on her face, he added: "Hey what's the use of having access to one of the biggest media outlets in the country if you can't use it when you need it?"
"So you're saying that the police don't know who...fired on Buffy?" Somehow Dawn couldn't use the right phrase to explain what had happened.
"As far as the media is concerned, the identity of the shooter remains unknown.
Besides the old law enforcement, we're the only people who know who it was." Andrew paused. "But I think that even if Earle and Cooper had had their names and faces plastered all over the news, they still would be trying the same plan."
"What makes you sure about that?"
"Because killers are like vampires and demons in a key way: once they have a plan that works, they will stick to it no matter whatever the risks. If they do it any other way, they won't feel right."
Dawn listened to his theory. It sounded reasonable, but there was something about it that troubled her. "How do you know so much about this?"
"Excuse me?"
"You don't have any experience in tracking these kinds of people."
Andrew looked at her before smiling. The smile creeped Dawn out but she couldn't tell why. "Because I killed a man, Dawn. I have a killer's mind. I was never a criminal mastermind like I planned, but I know how these...people think now. It's a part of me."
Now Dawn knew why Andrew's smile creeped her out. She decided that it was time to move on. "So do you have any idea on how to track these guys?"
"I think so. Based on who he targets, my guess is that Earle will be checking out places like... the Bronze or its L.A. equivalent. Someplace where teenage girls hang out."
"That covers a lot of ground."
"Maybe, but I'm betting that Earle will stick to some places in the part of the city near the motel." He handed her a map. "There are three or four within five miles of it."
"You think he'll be that brave?" said Dawn questioningly.
"I think he'll be that arrogant. He'll think he's sent a message to us, and that he's going on with his work. Do you think that Fred or whoever's in charge now would be willing to spare a couple of Slayers for this?"
"Well you're going to need to work to convince her." Dawn paused. "Maybe if I tell him that I think your theory's valid, she'll send out some people."
A look of gratitude that Dawn didn't think Andrew was capable of expressing appeared on his face. "Really? That... that would mean a lot. You sure about this?"
"Pretty sure." said Dawn as she began to walk towards the door.
Andrew hesitated. "Thanks."
"I hope that this pans out." They left the room.
The people at Angel-Slayer Inc. knew that the former owners of their building had one of the most complex security systems in the world -- one that rivaled many nuclear missile silos. They knew that someone was monitoring it, but they figured they were safe. So everyone had forgotten about the hidden closed-circuit cameras that were in practically every room in the building.
But even if they had remembered, they wouldn't have known that, given the proper assistance, it could be hacked into by an outside source very easily.
Even if they had known that, they wouldn't have suspected that the outside source could be as close as the building next door.
And they wouldn't have known that the last person that should know about their operations had just heard Dawn and Andrew's private conversation.
"Clever boy, that Andrew," said the man who had once been Special Agent Dale Cooper. "Good deduction. If I hadn't just heard that conversation, I'd have thought that it might work. But apparently our message to Miss Summers wasn't received." His grin would have caused a sane man to run in terror. "I guess I'll have to use smaller words -- or maybe smaller people." He looked at the monitor closely.
"That girl ... she's the right type. It'll certainly send Miss Summers the right message." He smiled contently. "I think she will fit the bill." He turned to the other man in the room. "Don't you think so?"
If the other occupant -- a security guard working the night shift -- had heard this he would have left in a hurry. But he never heard a word. Probably because his throat had been cut from ear to ear.
"Yes, I think she'll make an appropriate message " Bob said.
---------
