Chapter 4: Gone Fishing
STCA Underground Complex – Cleveland, OH
Eight weeks later
09:11 PM
Sam Finn was impressed with what the Government could do with two single expressions: 'National Security Threat' and 'Money Not An Issue'. She had seen an entire eight level subterranean complex be built in less than three months. Of course, things were still a little bare, but they were functioning.
They, the STCA. Supernatural Threat Combat Agency, the ultra-black ops agency built with a single purpose: eradicate the supernatural threats on American soil. And she, Sam Finn, was the Director of the Cleveland Branch. She answered only to one man, the President.
The complex was a techno-mystical wonder, and a fortress built inside a fortress. They sat atop the Cleveland Hellmouth, the Hellmouth itself being located on the last level, protected by a five-level overlapped security protocol, the last one being a nuclear bomb with enough power to destroy Cleveland. The other levels were divided among armory, garage, training grounds, barracks, hospital, computer core and administration & research.
Nothing could get in or go out without passing through at least three checkpoints, each one with enough firepower to invade a small country.
The mystical defenses were also impressive, the most common being the religious symbols printed on every visible surface around, the most devious were called 'dimensional trapdoors', mystical gateways that had one-way tickets to places like two feet above the lava in Mount Vesuvius or the Mariana Trench, thirty-six thousand feet underwater.
Every conceivable weapon, any vehicle they needed, anything, Sam and the STCA had access to.
But one thing was still missing in all of that: Personnel. She had a good number of people, taken from the best military or civilian forces in the US, but some key people were still missing.
She had a series of folders on her desk, but the one on top of all the other was the one she needed the most. Sam picked it up, and she searched for the line that had his contact info. She dialed the number, and waited.
Warehouse District – Los Angeles, CA
Same day
09:13 PM
Xander heard the phone ringing in the inner pocket of his overcoat two demons ago. He was moving to strike the last one, who was fleeing as if God Himself was on pursuit.
Xander intercepted him near the exit, and a quick stroke of his katana ended the life of another enemy. And another clue to Deadboy's location was gone.
Damn, he was thinking on staking the missing vampire just on principle, whether he'd be Angelus or not.
He picked up his cell phone, looking at the display. Only three people knew this number, and the caller ID was telling him it was an undisclosed number. Odd.
"Yes?" he growled on the line.
"Called at a bad time? How many, and should I wait for tomorrow?" Sam said on the other side.
"Sam?" he recognized the voice, his entire demeanor changed. "No, problem dealt with. A few Scracchha demons. No biggie."
"Scracchha? Fought a couple of them once. Nasty suckers. The poisoned quills are a pain."
"Don't I know it?" Xander said, removing one of them from his arm. "So, how's my favorite black ops gal going?"
"I'm...fine. But I'm calling because I need to speak to you, in private."
"Problems?" he asked, seriously.
"No, the contrary, actually. But I need to speak face-to-face."
"Sure, I'm at the Hyperion, in LA. When?"
"Tomorrow, oh-three-hundred. But not at the Hotel. From what I remember, there is a small park a couple of blocks west from there. Ok for you?"
"Sure. See you there."
"Bye, Xander."
He closed the phone, mind replaying the conversation.
Benson Park – Los Angeles, CA
Next Day
03:05 PM
She was a bit late, Xander noticed, checking his clock. It was fashionable for a woman to be late for a meeting, but for a black ops agent, it could mean several things, none of them good. His crow was circulating high above the park, looking around. The bird finally noticed her approaching from the south, apparently alone and at a calm pace.
Xander had arrived earlier on, and he checked the surroundings twice. He trusted her, up to a point, but you couldn't kill Hellmouth paranoia, special ops memories or the old saying, 'shit happens'. She came directly to him, meaning she must have already seen him several minutes earlier and decided to check the perimeter herself. He sat at one of the tables in the park, dressed in jeans, tennis shoes, a white t-shirt and a light sweater, perfect to conceal the automatic in his back. She was dressed similarly, only in different colors.
"Hey, lady, you need some company?" he asked, smiling.
Sam smiled, and he kissed her cheek. She blushed slightly. "Hi, Xander. How are you? And Faith?" she asked. They sat one in front of the other, both pair of eyes checking the surroundings before setting into one another.
"We're cool. Some trouble along the way, but we're managing."
"Trouble?" she asked, worried. Trouble, in their line of work generally ended with the world hanging by a thread.
"Yeah, Deadboy gave us the slip. But don't worry, we're on it. So, what brings you here?" he asked.
"Well, I have an offer to make. Listen to all that I have to say and then you can ask me anything that you want, ok?"
"Sure."
"Ok. Well, during Riley's funeral, I received an envelope from a fed, in it there was bird's eye picture from Sunnydale during our mess with the First, a note and a plane ticket. The note said basically, be on the plane or be arrested and prosecuted the next day. So, I went with it. I ended up in a meeting with the CinC."
Xander eyebrows rose almost to his hairline, but he kept shut, as she had asked.
"He had a lot of questions, which I had to answer. Seems that the Government didn't know a thing about the darker side of things and the Initiative was fully a military black ops. No one knew about them. And it seems that they had some plans regarding something like that, but it went level with an alien invasion, which means nobody believed it would be possible outside of Hollywood. So, when I told him all the shit we faced all those years, the man became livid, and worried. And he made me a proposition," she went silent for a second, waiting for the question she knew it would come.
"What proposition?"
Bingo. "He wanted me to devise and assemble an operation that would deal with them on a level playfield. So I did, and he signed the dotted line. And here I am."
"What's the catch?" he asked.
"I assembled an Agency. STCA. Supernatural Threat Combat Agency, based on the Safehouse Policy, which states that we have full authorization to deal with the threat, no matter what. I only answer to the President, no one else."
Xander almost laughed, it was never that easy or straightforward.
"So, if the action demands that you nuke Sunnydale?" he asked, smirking.
"I just have to open the safe in my office and retrieve the access cards. And push the button," she answered, seriously. Xander's face lost all of its color.
"Tell me you're joking," he pleaded, murmuring.
"I wish I was. Bombs have been in place for a about a month now."
The silence among them became oppressive for a couple of minutes, Xander's mind reeling.
"So, what do you want with me?" he asked, in a more even tone.
"I want you to be my Second in Command."
Xander stood stunned for a moment, not believing what he just heard.
"Ok, for curiosity's sake, why me?" he asked.
"Do you really have to ask me that? Let's see... who saved and helped the Slayer more times in the last seven years? Who helped control a super-powered witch who was bent on destroying the world? Who convinced a master vampire to help him defy a prophecy? Who confronted same master vampire bent on killing the Slayer with nothing more than guts? Who created and implemented the plan to destroy the First? Who managed to reform an 'evil' Slayer? And finally who is immortal and super-powerful?" she asked, ticking her fingers. "I don't have many persons with a resume like that."
"But that's not the main reason, is it?" he asked, not convinced. And he surely wanted to know how she did know so much about his past. Some of those things he hadn't told anyone.
"Nope. The main reason is that I trust you to do what has to be done when situation demands it, and more important than that, Riley trusted you."
Xander smirked, looked her in the eye and sighed, face growing downcast and dark.
"Look, Sam, I'll be nice with you because I consider you a friend and Riley was a friend and a good ally, even if he did some stupid things once in a while. But no, I won't accept it."
"Why not?"
"I might buy that the Government didn't know about the things in the night, I might buy that they didn't know about the Initiative. But what I cannot buy is a Government that had a city like Sunnydale, with one of the largest murder counts in the history of this country and nobody did a thing. Two, I don't trust them with our secrets. Who knows who's gonna be the next Margaret Walsh? And three, simply, no thanks. I might be a Crow, I might be a good leader, but to be honest, I'm tired of this stuff. Sometimes, I just want to throw it all out to the winds and go to the Caribbean with Faith."
Sam laughed. She actually laughed, a good, from deep within, heartfelt laugh. Xander looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights.
"What?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"I already knew your answer," she answered, amidst giggles. "I'm laughing because I didn't make a bet with anyone. Damn, I probably missed some good money."
Xander still looked silly for about a minute, and he started laughing himself, awakening another laughing fit from the agent.
"Am I so predictable?" he asked, finally controlling his laughs.
"No, no. It's just...after all you've been through, if the same happened to me, I would probably want some vacation too. For the rest of my life," Sam said, smiling. "But don't worry, I already knew that. I came for another reasons."
"Shoot."
"Will you help us, eventually?"
Xander thought it over for about half a second. "Yeah, but don't make it a habit. And I get to choose to accept the mission or not."
"Deal. Second, do you have any recommendations to the post? I still need a Second in Command."
This took more time to answer, but Xander smirked and looked at her. "I might have someone, but let me talk to her first, ok?"
"Sure. Any hints?"
"No, let me talk to her first."
"Her? Willow?"
Xander muted. Sam took the clue.
"All right, all right. No hints. And the last reason, and I know you're gonna get pissed with me for it, but I have to do it. We need Faith."
Xander's hackles rose with a vengeance, and Sam flinched.
"No."
"Xander, listen to me..."
"No," more forcefully.
"I can bring her back in," she played the card she didn't want to.
"I will not allow it. And you'll see how much time an Agency lasts without its agents," he said, dead flat.
"Will you kill a cop doing his duty?"
"Yes," he said, without missing a beat.
"Will Faith want that?"
Xander gritted his teeth. "Don't make her choose it. And the world needs her outside, not behind bars. She is changed, she deserves a chance," he said, angrily.
"Did I say anything different? And don't you realize I already knew she has changed? I wouldn't have made the proposal otherwise. Can you at least hear me out?"
"One minute," he said, looking at his watch.
"The Council is no more. Even with Giles attempt, it will take a long time to rebuild it. So, no support for the Slayer from them right now. The Sunnydale crew has their own problems and lives right now, so no backup. The AI crew is a mess with Angel's disappearance and they have to lay low after blowing up Wolfram & Hart. So, she only has some backup in you right now, and you know that sometimes even that isn't enough."
"Thirty seconds."
"Here's the deal. Full Presidential Pardon, clean sheet for her. Nobody looking over her shoulder. A job, pay, medical care, the works. And after three years, if she wants to bolt, she's free to go, no strings. She'll have the best backup, the best research, everything we can do to make her and ours survival possible in the long run," she said, looking at him.
"Your time is up," he said, rising from the bench.
He walked on, and after he disappeared from view, Sam's cell phone rang.
"Yeah?" she asked, without bothering to look at the ID.
"Call me in three days. If she says no, you better be prepared to do what's right, or pay the price. I do like you, Sam. Don't do anything stupid," he said, and hung up.
Sam stood up and walked away, going back to her car.
