Chapter 11 - One Coincidence Too Many

Having delivered Dawson to a hospital, Xander goes to see how Willow's doing, and I go home so I can contact Westgate. I want to share the information we've got quickly so it can be dealt with before word gets out that we have it.

I call Westgate as we've arranged for me to do, just giving a single word which is his clue to call me back from a secure location. I'm surprised it takes as long as it does - normally, he rings back within half an hour, but this time he keeps me waiting two hours. I've all but given up waiting when he calls.

"Westgate. Sorry it took so long; things have been busy. What did you get from Dawson?"

I give him the names, then describe what happened to Dawson. There's a silence on the other end for longer than seems natural before Westgate replies.

"Those names you gave me? Looks like the same thing happened to them. Two were found staring vacantly ahead of them and one is dead - he was at the wheel of his car, and according to eyewitnesses, he just ploughed off the road. That's why it took me so long to get back to you. The whole organisation is in turmoil - two of them are senior people here, and there're rumours all over that it's some sort of virus or something."

"There were five names," I remind him. "What about the others?"

"Well, I already suspected one of them, but he's off duty so I don't know. I'll check him out. The other one? He's a surprise. Very junior - but he's been an aide to a number of senior people. I'll make some inquiries as to where he is, and I'll get back to you."

"Looks like they know we're on to them," I offer.

"So why destroy themselves like that? If that's what they've done. It sounds the same."

"To protect someone or something."

"One of the names we've got or someone else?"

"I suspect we'll know the answer to that when you've worked out if anyone's missing from your tally."

Westgate promises to get back to me, and I hang up. I'm concerned. Everything I thought we'd gained seems to be slipping through our fingers. I hit the desk where I'm sitting in frustration. I consider going over to see how Willow's doing, but then I spot the time. I'll leave it until tomorrow er, later today. I could go to bed, but I'm too wound up for that. Anyway, if Westgate's going to get back to me, I might as well be awake. Instead, I pour myself a glass of whisky and consider our options. It's looking worryingly as if we're running out. What we really need is a bit of luck.

Much later, I get the call I've been waiting for. It's Westgate again, and he's sounding worried.

"Haven't got much time. Found one of the two we were wondering about - he's the same as the others. Probably found the other one too - although we don't have a positive ID. There was a fire at his apartment building- they pulled one body out of his apartment, and he lived alone. Looks like we might be looking for someone else."

"What's his name - the one in the fire?"

"He's the one that surprised me - Jim Stevenson. Not remarkable at all, unless you check his history. He's been assigned to work for all of the others at some time in the past three years."

"That's …" I begin, but I'm interrupted.

"I've got to go. Don't call again. Someone's been pointing fingers at me, and …"

And the connection is dead.

I give up on any idea of sleep, and put on a pot of coffee before going to shower. By the time I'm feeling fresher, and I've got a couple of cups of coffee in me, I'm almost feeling human, so I head round to see Willow. It's early, but not excessively so.

I'm met at the door by Xander who, by his dishevelled appearance, has been sleeping in his clothes.

"How is she?" I ask.

"Asleep. But it took some fairly major work from Jenna to get her to sleep. Some potion or other. Jenna's asleep too. So, what did Westgate say? Pleased with the information?"

I explain what happened, and the smile disappears from Xander's face.

"So we're back to square one? I don't believe it."

"What don't you believe?" says a familiar voice from the doorway. It's Anya.

"I was looking for Xander. He wasn't at home, and I wanted to be sure he wasn't with someone else, if you know what I mean."

I'm about to start the story again when Jenna joins us, explaining that she heard voices.

"How's Willow?" I ask.

"Still asleep, and I think that's for the best."

"Yes, yes, quite."

"So what's happened? I'm seeing some long faces here."

And so I get to explain everything again.

"So, it looks as though when Dawson triggered that curse, or whatever it was, that it triggered the same thing in the other conspirators."

"They're all gone?" Jenna asks.

"Looks like it, although we don't have identification on one. There was a fire at his apartment, and one body was recovered. And Westgate's in trouble. It sounds like someone's trying to incriminate him."

"But we don't know who," Jenna offers.

"No, we don't. But this man who was apparently killed in the fire - he's … well, there's a bit too much coincidence around him for my liking. He's the common link between all the others. He has worked for all of them in the past three years."

"And a fire sounds like a coincidence too. If the body was burned enough, it could be weeks before we'd know for sure if the it was him, and that's assuming that the authorities think there's enough doubt to instigate an investigation," Anya adds.

"You're right, Anya. I'm worried about him. I wish we had more information."

"I could go and, you know, chat to Westgate."

"What if he's been arrested?" Xander asks.

Anya just gives him a look. "I can find him, and if he's locked up somewhere, then I can talk to him if I need to. If I can't, then, well, I'll just come back."

"I'd appreciate it, Anya," I tell her. "But don't take any risks."

"I won't," she promises, and being Anya, I believe her.

Xander goes out to get some doughnuts, and Jenna goes to shower, leaving me to my thoughts again. When Anya reappears, she takes me by surprise.

"Talk about chaos," she exclaims, sitting down. "Xander's outside with doughnuts. I'll explain when he comes in."

And, five minutes later, with the four of us together again, she does.

"The base has been as good as evacuated. Just a few essential people left, and Westgate's locked in one of their holding cells."

"What did he say?"

"The theory seems to be that the mind destruction was caused by some sort of agent - viral or chemical - and that someone with access to the base was responsible. Seems they found some vials and Westgate's been fingered as the owner."

"How about the fire?"

"I went and had a look, but it's still too hot. Wouldn't kill me, but it'd ruin my clothes. Managed to get into the morgue, though. The body could be anyone."

"So, he could be free, and we've got no idea where he is. Could we find out what he looks like?"

"It's possible," Anya offers. "You won't get any photos out of that apartment, though. But there are probably records, you know, on computer."

"And that's where I come in," says a voice from behind.

"Willow, you should be asleep!" Jenna tells her, getting up. Willow certainly looks like she should be asleep, but she's got that look on her face that I know means she's not going to be dissuaded. And if she's willing to help, then we need her.

"How are you feeling?" I ask her.

"I've been better," she admits. "But I get the idea that things have changed since I went to sleep. Why don't you tell me what happened."

And so I go through it all again. It's surprisingly helpful. I mean, as I'm explaining, I'm thinking about the reasons for everything, and the more I consider, the more likely it seems that this Jim Stevenson is more than he seems.

"So it was more than just Dawson that got the broken mind treatment," Willow comments at the end of it. "It's probably not logical, but that almost makes me feel, well, less guilty. Like it was something that was going to happen some time and not something I did."

"I'd say you're right," I confirm. "Blar obviously doesn't hold his followers in any esteem at all. He uses them and blinds them with empty promises, but all the loyalty's strictly one-way."

Willow nods, then goes to get her laptop. She sits at it and gets to work. She still seems subdued, but if she can see things the way she said, then it's got to be a step forward.

Xander decides to go home and get changed before going to work. He's right that there's nothing he can do now. Come to that, there's nothing I can do, but I'm compelled to stay. Once Xander's gone, Anya decides to leave too, although she does promise that she'll be around if she's needed.

Desperate for something to do, I follow Jenna into the kitchen when she takes the coffee cups in. There are other dishes there too - looks like washing up hasn't been a priority here for a day or so. Still, it gives us something to do. Jenna washes and I dry in silence. Neither of us feels the need to talk, and that's good. I don't know about Jenna, but I'm weighing possibilities in my mind. That, and wishing yet again that I knew how Buffy was doing.

Willow's cry from the other room brings us both running.

"It took a while, because, you know, firewall, but I finally got into the system. It's actually less sophisticated than that encryption from the Initiative - you know, the one that unencrypted itself?"

"Quite," I answer, taking a look at the page. It's a standard enough looking personnel record for one James W. Stevenson - age 34.

"Odd, though," Willow comments.

"Why odd?" I ask as Jenna looks over my shoulder.

"Well, you know I don't see things with my eyes, so I can't get the picture directly. I've set up a system where the information from the computer actually draws the pixels in my mind - you know? But it's like the image is blurry. I can't quite make out the face. Is it really as bad as that or is there something wrong with the system?"

"Looks fine to me," I comment. "How about you, Jenna?"

"Yes, perfectly clear. Round face, dark hair, I'd guess blue eyes."

"I wouldn't say dark hair," I disagree. "More fair, and he's got a moustache."

"Are you looking at the same picture?" she asks. "Because the man I see is clean shaven."

"But how can …?"

"That's what I'm getting!" Willow's voice is more animated than I've heard in a while. "That picture has a built in variability. It keeps changing, but I'd guess that whenever you see it for the first time - that's the picture you see afterwards. I can sort of see it happening, now I know what I'm seeing. Or does that sound stupid?"

"No, sometimes you really do need to know what you're looking at before it makes sense. But how would someone do that?"

"Well," Willow begins. "I don't know the details, but I can imagine that for a person, you could use some sort of rolling glamour. Instead of a static one, you get a shifting range of them - maybe just shifting slowly between two faces. It'd take a lot of power, and it would need to be fed power continually, but I suspect it could be done."

"You mean this man doesn't have a face?"

"It's hard to imagine how the computer image would keep changing if the original face didn't. As to how that works, I really don't know. But yes, I'd reckon that if you talk to six people who know this Jim Stevenson and got them to describe him, then we'd get six different descriptions."

"Just out of interest, describe Dawson to me," I suggest, and Willow's eyes go wide as she realises what I'm suggesting. It doesn't take long, though, for us to realise that we all saw the same Dawson. And just to be sure, I suggest we all do the same for Westgate, but again, he seems to have just the regulation one face.

"So, Jim Stevenson stands out again," Jenna concludes.

"Yes, he does. I wonder if this is the thing that Dawson was trying to keep from us," Willow muses.

"It could be," I agree, "but I can't help but think it's something more profound. Like …"

"Like the fact that he isn't human?" Jenna's suggestion causes Willow and I to gape at her.

"You mean …" I start, only to have my sentence finished by Willow.

" … he could be Blar?"

"Exactly. Now, that would be something Dawson would destroy her mind to keep secret. If she even did it. It could have been externally triggered, given what we know now."

"No, she triggered it," Willow states with certainty. "It just looks like she triggered more than just her own destruction."

"So, and I know we're dealing with an awful lot of ifs here, if Stevenson is Blar, and if he planted someone else in his flat, then he could be anywhere. Either he's running scared because we were too close, …"

"Which doesn't actually seem that likely," Willow suggests. "I mean, we were only trying to get the Defenders off our back here. We hadn't even tried to hit out at Blar himself."

"He may not have known that, though. The question is, where is he now?"