Chapter 3: IN DEFENSE OF DEATH

"Pull yourself together man," Rick demanded in a strong whisper, "This is no time to panic."

"NO TIME TO PANIC, HE SAYS!" Hank ranted. Hank was burned out on fear at this point. Now he was just plain angry. "Well I beg to differ! Since this day started, I've been attacked by some crazy monster chick and her two goons, seen people come up from out of the ground and watched as a giant, liquid head appeared out of thin air! Now I find out that the Queen Bitch of the Hell's Dirty Trick Squad is here to finish what she started ten years ago! Only this time she doesn't want to end my career, she wants to end my life! And if that wasn't enough, I have to stand trial for my life, and if I lose Mr. Giant Liquid Head over there gets my soul! If that is not a good reason to panic, then I Don't Know What Is!"

Rick grabbed Hank by the shoulders and said, "I know this is a lot to take in. And I know you didn't ask for any of this. But, if you don't pull it together you are going to lose and that is... that is just unacceptable for..."

"For reasons you can't reveal to me! I know!" Hank sarcastically stated.

"Look. I don't like this any more than you do, but you're just going to have to trust me. I can handle Lilah. We will get through this."

Maybe it was Rick's calm response or the 'we' part of his last sentence. Whichever one it was, it worked. Hank took a deep breath and relaxed.

"OK. Let's do this."

"Begin The Proceeding," the Tribunal commanded. They then looked in Rick's direction. "You. State Your Purpose."

Rick stepped forward. "Honorable Tribunal. I call on this court because a crime has been committed. Lilah Morgan, and the forces she represents, are willfully and intentionally trying to destroy the balance of good and evil. This man, Hank Summers," he gestured in Hank's direction, "may not seem special. He is an ordinary man living a good life. But, unbeknownst to him, he plays a very important part in the war between Good and Evil. A huge part of that roll is dependant on his ignorance of that roll, and the ignorance of others. Namely, the Senior Partners. By attempting to kill him they have upset the balance of power that has existed for centuries. His death will create situations and have repercussions for years to come. I humbly ask that you restore the balance. Grant Hank Summers his life." Rick stepped back and gave Hank a reassuring pat on the back.

Lilah stepped up. She walked over and stood in the same spot Rick was just in.

"Honorable Tribunal. Mr. Lansing is correct. This man is not special. His life is ordinary. In fact, it borders on insignificant. Yes, he does play a part in the ongoing war, and yes, his death will cause The Powers That Be some... discomfort. But it will not be because he no longer lives. No. His death is not what The Powers fear. They fear the Slayers' reaction to his death. They fear the Slayer will abandon the new mission when the knowledge of his death is revealed. That is his one, and only, connection to the struggle. And finally, Mr. Lansing was also correct when he stated that the Senior Partners arraigned for Hank Summers to die on this day. But despite Mr. Lansing's exaggerations, how other forces may, or may not, react to a situation we created is not a violation of the rules." Lilah paused for a second and turned away from the Tribunal. She locked eyes with Hank. She began to walk towards him while she continued her opening statements. "This man, just like any other mortal, can die. And he can do so by any means we deem fit."

Hank knows a power play when he sees one. After 20 years with a Fortune 500 company, he knew the rules of boardroom psychology. He has seen every trick, scam, and intimidation tactic out there. Hank returned Lilah's menacing stare, silently telling her he was not intimidated. Lilah, more than a little impressed with Hank's resolve, gave him a little smile before she returned her attention to the Tribunal.

"Honorable Tribunal." she continued. "I request a jury."

"What?" a stunned Rick asked.

"If this man's life is to be spared just because he is valuable to others, then let the people within his life make that decision. Let them decide if he lives or dies."

All three members of the Tribunal looked at each other for a moment before the one in the middle answered. "It Will Be Done."

"Is that good or bad?" Hank asked Rick.

"I don't know," Rick answered. He was more than a little confused. "The Tribunal has never done anything like this before. Usually, it's just choose a couple champions and have a big fight. Sometimes, with the more complex cases, it is as straight forward as both sides saying a few words and a judgment is handed down. But this... this is new territory."

Rick addressed the Tribunal. "Honorable Tribunal. I request a Tabula Rasa spell be placed on all witnesses. Revealing the secrets of the magical world to outsiders is a major violation and I believe the rules have been broken enough for one day."

"It Shall Be Done."

"What's Tabula Rasa?" Hank asked.

"It means everyone who comes through the portal will have full knowledge of why they are here, what is going on, and everything that transpired before they arrived. It also means they will forget everything when they leave. It keeps the magical world a secret and saves us from having to explain everything over and over."

"Honorable Tribunal. Allow me to call my first witness." Lilah requested.

"Granted."

Lilah waved her hand at the place where she entered. A light winds blew and the smell of ozone returned as a surge of green and blue energy formed a portal. A 25-years-old Caucasian woman emerged. She wore a suede cowboy hat, a denim halter-top, and long, black, tight-fitting lycra pants. The outfit fully displayed her curves, especially her small waist, firm midriff, and 34DD breast. She was 5' 7'', but her 4-inch-high, patent leather, platform pumps elevated her to just over 6 feet tall. She was an attractive woman with power blue eyes, a small nose, full lips, and long wavy blond hair with red highlights that came down to the middle of her back. She walked over to the witness area and sat in the witness chair.

"State your name."

"Stormy," The woman said in a Californian accent.

"Your real name," Lilah ordered.

"That is my real name."

"The name you were born with then."

'Stormy' let out a long sigh of boredom. She rolled her eyes in annoyance before she said. "Tiffani Ilene Thomas-Smith."

"Interesting name."

Tiffani gave no response.

"What does Hank call you?"

"Tits," she replied. Her voice was soft, but it was more than a little angry.

"What was that?" Lilah baited. "I didn't hear you."

"TITS!" she said, almost in a shout.

"A little insulting isn't it. Calling you by your... best... assets."

"It's my initials," Tiffani stated crossly. Tiffani's cool demeanor, and her California accent, was beginning to fade; her anger, and the voice of her true Louisiana origins, was starting to show. She did not know it, but she was playing right into Lilah's hands.

"How do you know Hank Summers?"

"He's a regular at the gentleman's club I work at."

"And which gentlemen's club would that be?" Lilah asked, faking confusion.

"Club 76."

"Isn't that a roach-infested strip joint?"

"Objection!" Rick demanded.

"On what grounds?"

"She is here to testify, not to be insulted by you, Lilah."

"Tabula Rasa is in effect, Rick. No harm will be done."

"I know what you're up to Lilah!"

"SILENCE," the Tribunal commanded. The ground shook as they spoke. The shaking stopped and the Tribunal said, "Do Not Waste This Court's Time."

"A thousand apologies Honorable Tribunal," Lilah said in a submissive tone.

"Continue."

Lilah turned back to Tiffani and asked, "You and Hank are dating?"

"Yeah. We go out sometimes."

"Anything ever come of it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, did he ask you to marry him?"

"Naa."

The sound of Rick clearing his throat interrupted Lilah's next question. She glanced at him. He was mouthing the words 'waste court's time' while he tapped his watch. She took a quick survey of the Tribunal. Rick was correct. They looked even less happy than usual. She turned back to the witness.

"If you could sum up your relationship with Hank in a single word, what would it be?"

"Money," Tiffani coldly stated. "Hank is only good for a buck. After his divorce he talked about getting married again, but he made it clear it would not be with me. So I made it clear to him that he had to pay to play."

"Pay to Play?" Lilah asked, again faking confusion.

"Hell Yeah! If he wants to play with these," Tiffani leaned forward slightly as she put her hands on her breast and squeezed them together. "It's going to cost him some serious Mon...ney." Tiffani's sophisticated California accent was completely gone now. Her voice fully showed its true Louisiana backwoods origins.

"Your witness," Lilah declared.

Rick took a step forward and said, "Just a few questions Misses Thomas. First, if he asked would you marry him?"

"No," Tiffani stated flatly.

"Second question. Why not?"

"It wouldn't change anything. My initials would still be the same."

"Misses Thomas. How will you vote?"

"If Hank is dead, who's gonna pay my rent."

Rick stepped back and indicated he was done. Lilah instructed Tiffani to leave the witness chair and to sit in the last chair in the waiting area. Lilah then waved her hand again and another green and blue colored portal quickly formed. This time a man emerged.

The man was Charlie Windmere. Charlie is the owner of Charlie's Fine Food and Spirits, Hank's favorite restaurant. Charlie was Caucasian. He stood at just under six feet tall. He had brown eyes, a large nose, and short, well-kept, brown hair. He was a heavyset man. He weighted about 300 pounds, but you never would have guessed just by looking at him. The tailored black suit he wore did an excellent job of hiding his girth. His skin did nothing to betray his age. Most of the people who meet Charlie placed him at around 40-years-old, but in reality he was about to turn 59.

"What the hell is going on here?" Charlie said in his usual gruff voice. "I don't have time for this. I've got a restaurant to run!"

"Sit down Mr. Windmere," Lilah commanded. "This won't take long."

Charlie walked over and sat down in the witness chair.

"Mr. Windmere, what is your relationship with Hank?"

"Hank is a good customer. He pays his tab, bring in business, and he's not a drunk."

"Everything a restaurant owner loves."

Charlie just shrugged.

"Are you friends with Hank?"

"Whatever gave you that idea?"

"He counts you as one of his best friends."

"Don't know why he does that. He's a good customer so I always give him and his guest a good table. Even when his guest is that hooker over there," he gestured at Tiffani.

"Exotic Dancer!" Tiffani shouted from the waiting area.

"Whatever," Charlie shouted back over his shoulder.

"Do you and Hank ever talk casually?" Lilah asked, retaking control of the situation.

"Hank talks. I just listen. Good bartenders make for good business. Bartenders have a rep for being good listeners so I play the role of a bartender. It keeps him coming back. And when he does, he brings some high profile cliental with him. Even better for business."

"Is it safe to say that you don't care if he lives or dies?"

"Not really."

Lilah signaled she was done and walked back to her area. Rick stepped forward.

"In your testimony, you said you don't consider Hank to be a friend, correct?"

"Yeah?"

"But when you had a cash flow problem and couldn't make payroll, who did you turn to?"

"I never asked for his help. He volunteered."

"He volunteered after you told him the place would close down without the money. And you didn't exactly resist the loan either."

"Yeah!"

"Hank gave you an interest free loan so that you could make payroll and you still have not paid him back."

"So What?"

"That is the kind of thing a friend does for another friend. Isn't it?"

"Hey! I told the truth. What Hank thinks ain't my problem. She asked. I answered."

"And if someone asked you if Hank should live or die?"

"I say let him burn. It'll save me the hassle of having to pay him back."

Rick was more than a little disgusted at Charlie's answer. He refused to even look at the man. He turned and walked back over to Hank. Lilah told Charlie to go sit in the waiting area. Charlie was more than a little angry at be dismissed like that, but he got up and left the witness box with no problems. Rick looked at Hank. He saw the pained expression on Hank's face even though Hank was trying to hide it. Rick patted Hank on the shoulder and said, "Don't feel bad Hank. The guy is a jerk."

"I thought that jerk was my friend."

"I know buddy... I know."

Lilah smiled at Hank's discomfort. Even in death she found joy in other people's sorrow.

"Honorable Tribunal. Allow me to call my next witness." Lilah requested.

"Granted."

Lilah again waved her hand at the entrance and again the portal formed. This time a woman emerged. She walked over to the witness box and sat down in the chair.

There are women in the world who are beautiful. Women that light up a room just by entering it. Their elegance and grace are almost impossible to ignore. Their voluptuous bodies, striking features, and dazzling smiles enthrall men, and cause envy and wanting in the minds of other women. Clare Burton was not one of those women.

Clare could be described in one word: average. She was of average height with an average build. Her eyes were an forgettable shade of brown. Her nose and lips were of normal size and proportion to her small, round face. Her pale skin did not glow nor was it radiant from hours of care. She wore little, if any, makeup. This did nothing but draw attention to her already dull features. Her straight, brown hair did not shine, nor did it show any sign of modern trends. It seemed to just come out of the top of her head, flop down to her shoulders, got bored, and just stopped growing. It was impossible to tell from her clothes how old she was. Her drab brown coat, gray blouse and dark brown pants gave her a utilitarian look that was more uniform than fashion statement.

Clare was the living embodiment of the old Chinese food joke. Everyone who met her was greatly impressed with her intelligence and skill, but an hour later, no one could remember her name.

"How do you know Hank?" Lilah questioned.

"I've worked for him for over ten years now."

"Would you say you are his friend?"

"Yes," she smiled.

"Do you think Hank considers you to be a friend?"

Clare lowered her head. She stared at the ground before answering no.

"Why not?"

"I'm just his secretary," she raised her head and looked at Hank. "For 10 years now, I've worked beside him. I get his coffee, file his reports, mail his packages, and remind him every time his anniversary or one of his kid's birthdays came up."

"Hank does seem to be notoriously bad with birthdays." Lilah looked back at Hank. She was baiting him now.

"Sometimes I tell him a big day is coming and he still spaces, so I would go out and buy the presents myself. Sometimes I had to use my own money. But does he ever thank me?"

"I'm guessing no."

"On my birthday two years ago, I had the day off. Then the day before, he said I had to work because he needed some stuff finished before a big presentation. He didn't even thank me."

"How inconsiderate."

"And one time when he was going through his divorce, he came to the office really drunk. He was going to tell off Mr. Warren so I hid him in Rick Edmonds old office and sobered him up."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because he's my boss and I..."

"You..." Lilah baited.

"I love him," Clare said in a tiny voice. Her eyes returned to the floor.

The confession floored Hank. He was speechless. He never knew she felt that way.

"You love him?"

"Yes." Clare's voice was a little bit stronger that time but it was still very weak.

"And does he love you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not pretty, " her eyes stayed downward as she answered.

"Self-centered, forgetful, and shallow. He's quite the catch. Between you and me sister you could do better."

"LILAH!" Rick shouted. He should have said objection, but the point was made. Lilah said she was done. Rick began his cross-examination.

"You said you love Hank. Why?" Rick asked.

"Why what?" Clare's head was off the ground now.

"Why do you love him?"

Clare looked Hank in the eyes as she said, "He was the first man to ever notice me. I was stuck in Records for 3 years and hated it. Then one day, he saw that I fixed a report he made. His numbers for July were really the numbers for June. Happens all the time. Our old spreadsheet program cut the months to 2 letters and sometimes people got June and July mixed up. Anyway. He made me his personal secretary."

"Do you hate him for not returning your affections?"

"No." Her eyes darted between the floor and at Rick as she fidgeted with her hands. "It's OK if he doesn't know."

"So you would vote live?"

Clare's eye returned to Hank. "Yeah." She gave him a small smile.

"Nothing further," Rick declared before he asked her to go the waiting area.

"Well," Rick beamed, "that's more for then against. And we still haven't presented our side yet. Who knows Hank, we just might win this thing." Rick gave Hank a friendly slap on the back as the two shared a smile.

Hank glanced at the woman he has hated for more than 9 years. Lilah was pacing. Her face showed signs of stress and worry. Hank smiled as he thought to himself, Looks like she could use a cigarette.

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End Chapter 3