Chapter 16

The Following takes place between 3 PM and 4 PM on the day of the autumnal equinox

Considering who they had fought against today-- Justine and Ethan were the most obvious examples-- and who the bad guys had brought back, Angel supposed that he shouldn't have been so surprised to find that Lindsey McDonald would make a reappearance -- the former Wolfram & Hart lawyer who had not been seen by either side since his "resignation" two years ago. He was, however, surprised to find that, (1) Lindsey was apparently fighting on the side of good and (2) he had apparently learned some pretty powerful magic. He barely time had to contemplate that before he had a more pressing problem to deal with.

Apparently the humans that had been recruited by the side of evil were as persistent as the undead ones. One of the attackers-- the one who had tackled Wesley-- was getting to their feet despite having taken a sizable amount of punishment. Angel was getting ready for round two when Wesley spoke up in a strong voice.

"I admire your spirit but if you wish to live stay down."

Angel turned around knowing what he would see before he saw it -- Wes had drawn his gun again.

Apparently they didn't get the message easily because one of them charged Wesley. An instant later a loud crack filled the air. The would-be assailant was on the ground, writhing in pain.

Wesley walked until he was standing right over the writhing man. "The next shot goes into your stomach. Stay fucking put."

Angel had become inured to Wesley's killer instinct. Others weren't. "Christ," Lindsey said, only half in jest. "I thought that you people were the good guys."

"We are," Angel said, "which is one of the reasons why you're still breathing."

Lindsey put up his hands. "I just saved your son's life and you still don't trust me."

"Forgive us for the lack of confidence," said Wesley as he walked over to him, "but you don't have the track record for it."

"Considering that I saved your life earlier today I'd think I'd have earned some cred with you."

"Saved my…" It hit Wesley. "The ball of fire that killed those vampires at Thompson's place. That was you?"

Lindsey gave a modest bow but before he could say anything Angel spoke. "Well thanks for all your help but considering that you have…whatever the hell it is that you have, you could have been doing a lot more than just the random life-saving."

Now Lindsey was starting to get pissed. "Look who's talking. You're the ones who inherited all the old resources I had access to. You have the money, the people, the power to stop this thing, and you're just swinging in the damn wind. And despite all of the power I now have there's only so much that I can do." As the others considered this, he added: "Just in case you hadn't noticed I now have a shitload of magical power at my fingertips so I would appreciate if you got that gun out of my face."

Wesley had trained his gun on the former attorney. He lowered his aim from Lindsey's head to his chest. "If you want us to start trusting you, you could explain how it is you managed to get access to this 'shitload of magical power.'"

Lindsey gave a small smile. "Reader's Digest version? I knew I couldn't just walk away from Wolfram & Hart. No one just leaves. So I've spent the last two years acquiring the only thing that would keep me safe."

"Magic?" said Connor.

Lindsey fixed him with a frown. "Power. Fortunately it turns out that having an evil hand makes it easier to learn black magic. I traveled across the country going to some of the major magical hot spots -- even spent some time at the Hellmouths -- learning whatever I could. By using the right kinds of cloaking spells and traveling at the right times I was able to stay below the Wolfram & Hart radar." Noting the looks on Angel and Wesley's face, he added: "Of course, it also helped that, for the last couple of years, they've been occupied."

"Me and Connor," said Angel.

"That whole mess with the Beast upset their looking for me."

Wesley fixed him with a very cold look. "I'm glad the deaths of hundreds of people was such a big help to keeping you safe."

Lindsey matched the expression. "Self-preservation was the name of the game at my old place of business. Don't try and pretty it up." Before Wesley could respond, he added: "And don't pretend that part of you wasn't glad when they got slaughtered."

"Why did you come back to LA now?" Angel asked before this got any uglier.

"For the same reason that you're all here. Word gets out in the mystical world that the apocalypse is coming. I came by to help."

"So you're doing this strictly for the good of mankind."

Wesley knew he had struck a nerve with that question. Lindsay squirmed a little. "Well…the only way I could get Wolfram & Hart's hounds off my ass was by doing some high-level extortion. Some major dirt on the bigger players in the firms."

Angel got the rest of it. "And when the former tenants met their untimely ends, your blackmail scam was scrapped. Nothing to stop them from hunting you down."

"So I came here to strike a deal with you. Figure if your gang of goody-goodies back me up, you'll help protect me from the senior partners." Lindsey didn't flinch as he described his callow bravery to them.

"So all your helping us, aiding us…you're trying to score points so we don't serve you up to the big boys downstairs." Wesley shook his head. "You've got to be joking."

Now Lindsey got angry. "Hey I've been helping you all day. I put up a force field around the home where you were keeping Cordelia to keep evil out."

"And look how well that worked," Wesley said, sarcastically.

"I've been backing you up since before since seven a.m. I saved your life and your son's."

"Yeah, but what have you done for us lately?" said Angel.

Lindsey was looking like he might do something dangerous when Connor suddenly spoke up.

"Why are the two of you breaking his balls?" he asked, agitated.

"Connor, even when you had your memory, you didn't know this guy. You don't know how slippery and double-crossing he can be," Angel explained.

"Maybe," said Connor, "but do we really have a choice? Like Buffy said, we don't have time to pick and choose. We need allies no matter what they used to do."

Feeling sickened, Angel realized Connor was right. They needed whatever power they could get and Lindsey certainly had that. "All right," he said to Lindsay. "But your information better help us. And our help against the senior partners isn't quid pro quo."

Lindsey smiled. "Four months in the place and you're talking like a lawyer."

Angel ignored him and turned to Wesley. "Get a hold of Fred and Gunn. Ask them how we can best use Mr. Formerly-Evil Hand."

Wesley took out his phone without arguing. As he dialed Lindsey joked: "Don't be so upset. It's not like you've made a deal with the devil." Pause. "Again."

Angel tried to ignore the jibe. In his heart he knew that that was exactly what he had done.

Only this devil was known to backslide.

3:12:29/3:12:30/3:12:31/3:12:32

In all the years that she had spent fighting him, caring for him, and varying combinations of the two, Buffy was pretty sure that she had never seen Spike looking the way that he did now. Reflective, contemplative, thoughtful almost.

Initially she had decided not to mention it to keep from distracting them from the task of searching the buildings as they looked for Cordelia. However, after half an hour with no sign of anyone, Buffy couldn't keep her curiosity to herself any longer.

"All right, what the hell has got you thinking so deeply?" Before Spike could react she said: "That sounded a lot nicer in my head. I meant-- "

"I know what you meant." Spike sighed and looked up. "I was thinking that for all the differences me and The Great Brooder, we're probably thinking the same thing about today."

"And that is?" asked Buffy, half-curious, half-afraid.

"That this is the first day in God knows how many years that we can walk around in the sunlight and instead of spending it doing something with people we care about" he emphasized the word 'care', "we're wasting it looking for my ex."

This was a fairly emotional statement for Spike and she had never been entirely sure how to handle that. "I don't think that you could call what we're doing as 'wasting time.'" she said seriously.

He took it the wrong way. "Well I'm sure we're doing important work looking for Cordelia and Harmony," he said walking off a bit.

"What I meant was I don't consider time spent with you as wasted." The second that she said those words, she realized that she had revealed far more of her feelings than she had meant to. There were all kinds of unpleasant and pleasant possibilities in what she had said-- more than they could get into at this point.

Which is why when her phone began ringing, she pulled it out and answered it before the subject could be pursued further. "Yeah?" she snapped.

"I just called you and you're already pissed at me?" Faith's voice had the smallest trace of humor in it.

"Sorry Faith, it's just that… " Buffy trailed off.

"Long day? " Faith laughed, but it was tinged with bitterness. "I know there's no rest for the wicked, but good doesn't get a hell of a lot either."

Buffy thought a second. "Didn't Giles say this when we started this whole thing?"

"I knew I'd heard someone say it before."

Buffy rubbed her free hand over her face. "You call for a reason or just to wax poetic?"

Seriousness filled her tone. "Yeah. I just got off with Fred. How to put this?" She paused. "Do you remember that truck that Ethan and Harmony used to get Spike out of the Hollywood Bowl?"

"You mean the truck I spent an hour looking for earlier? Sounds vaguely familiar," said Buffy.

Faith ignored the sarcasm. "Apparently Fred kept one of her magic eyes on it just to be safe. And apparently it's a good thing she did because twenty minutes ago it started moving again."

"Well, it stopped a couple of blocks away from USC. Do we know which way it was headed?"

"We're not sure but she thinks that it was heading down the freeway."

There was something about Faith's tone that said she knew more than she was telling. "You think you know where it's going," Buffy said.

"Maybe," said Faith. "Which is why Giles and I are trying to track it down." Again the humor entered her voice. "I guess us Slayers can't stop chasing that truck."

"So you're heading down the freeway. Do you need help?"

"No, we've got it as covered as we can." Faith's voice turned soft. "Actually I need you to do me a favor."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Faith, this really isn't the best time--"

"Please B."

Buffy didn't know whether it was the sadness in her voice or the word 'please' but she decided to shut up and listen. "In a while, you're going to get a call from Xander."

"What about?"

"Doesn't matter. The point is, he will ask you to do something for him. Something very important to him and me."

A vague picture was coming together in Buffy's mind. "This has to do with Robin, right?"

3:19:33/3:19:34/3:19:35

Faith knew that she should just tell Buffy what was wrong and risk the consequences. But for some reason, she was paralyzed by the irrational, childish fear that to tell too many people about Robin's condition would somehow seal his fate. It was a dumb reason, but it was instinctual. And, about this, Faith was going to trust her gut.

"There are already too many people whose heads are messed up because of what's happened today," she said, hating how much she sounded like a Watcher. "You're going to get the whole story eventually but for now," she took a deep breath, "just tell me that you'll listen to what he has to say."

There was a long pause at the other end. Then Buffy very gently said, "You know I probably won't be able to do it unless we make it through today."

Faith had known that this was coming but it still hurt. "I know. But it's important that somebody hear it and act appropriately. And even if it wasn't important to him, it is to me."

There was another pause. Faith was sure that Buffy was about to say 'no' when she spoke up. "I'll do it, Faith. Of course I will."

Relief flooded through her. "Thank you, B." For a moment she thought that she was going to cry. "I'll-- I'll call you when we get where were going. Thank you." She hung up with Buffy, and then received an instant message on her voicemail that told her someone from Angel-Slayer had called.

She hit the button on her phone called "A-S." The phone on the other end only rang once before someone picked up. "Fred?"

"It's a little creepy how y'all know who's on the other end without asking."

Despite the situation Faith smiled a little. "Lucky guess. What have you got for us?"

Fred was all business. "The latest photos show the truck changing from the Santa Monica Freeway to Route 10."

"Which way?"

"We're not sure but unless they're taking an extraordinary long way around, they're probably headed west."

Faith rolled her eyes. "We'll change freeways but unless you've picked up the ability to read minds, get a move on with those photos "

"Faith, we've talked about this--"

Faith cut her off. "I know you think Thompson is heading towards Venice and that creepy mansion Holtz used to call home but it's an awfully big reach on a very big hunch. Unless you've got proof positive we're not heading into the Pacific, we're going to pretend we don't know where the truck's going." And after a pause to let this sink in, she added, "Cause we don't."

Fred sighed. "You win. I'll call you when we've got new photos."

"Good. " Faith hung up the phone then turned to Giles. "Next opportunity, we need to get on Route 10."

"Right." Giles didn't take his eyes off the road but she knew that he was thinking. "You know, we haven't given any consideration as to who is driving the truck this time."

"No we haven't." said Faith. "And right now we shouldn't. Odds are when we finally find it, it'll be empty. I doubt whoever's in there is going to be waiting for us."

"But if we do—"

"--we'll deal with it then." Part of Faith knew that she was being short about a legitimate problem but right now she was having a hard time talking civilly to the man who had let Robin--

She forced her mind back to thinking about the task at hand. Even though a small part of her wouldn't be able to do that.

3:25:49/3:25:50/3:25:51/3:25:52

Dawn finished looking at the window in the stairwell where a new pane of glass had just been installed. "So this is the new glass that you'll be using." she said turning to the repairman. And even though the man in question was twenty years older, a foot taller and at least eighty pounds heavier than her, he still squirmed under her gaze. Dawn, however, understood that he was more afraid of her firm than her.

"Look, we've talked with Mr. Gunn and we've agreed to replace the windows—" the repairman began.

"No, you don't get it, sir,"Dawn said the word sir the way Buffy had once used to refer to Wesley when they first met. "You put in the old windows which worked so well that we nearly got turned to soup. So you'll understand why we're not convinced that these windows will do any better."

Since she had returned to Angel-Slayer Dawn had wanted to get back to work. This abduction experience, even though it had been her idea, hadn't been that bad (and she should know, she got taken prisoner often enough) but she had used the incident to get an hour's rest. After all it had been a very long day and she was only seventeen-- by one calendar anyway. But after a quick rest, she was ready to get back to doing something productive. So when Gunn had asked for somebody to make sure that the Wolfram & Hart building was safe from future attacks, she had volunteered to pitch in and make the place secure. Granted it was unlikely that there would be another attack but you never knew. Evil could be stupid sometimes.

"Look, um, Miss Summers I understand your concerns and we think that we may have been able to relieve them." He indicated the window. "In addition to being shatter-proof and weather resistant this glass has been enchanted to make it virtually impervious to magic and has the capabilities to paralyze most forces that get within a foot of them."

"That's going to make them awfully hard to clean." Dawn muttered. Before the repairman had a chance to react to this, her pager went off. When she checked it, she saw that it was Fred. She sighed. "Walk with me—" she forgot the repairman's name and was forced to glance at his shirt "--Lyle."

She began heading to the stairs to walk the two flights down as she tried to channel the corporate energy that had once filled this building. "Here's what's going to happen. You will replace all the windows in this building." Before Lyle could react, she held up her hand. "You will do so for as little money as possible." By now she was walking briskly up the stairs. "Otherwise we will get as far up your ass as your friendly proctologist. You know we're more than capable of it."

As she turned around to walk up the second flight, she looked at Lyle who was understandably being very quiet. "However, when you do your repairs you will leave one window on the top floor completely unaltered." As she reached the door to her floor, she turned to him and smiled sweetly. "Because if there's another incident like today, that will be the window you will be thrown out of."

And with that Dawn opened the door and walked into the area. She had time to reflect that she was being awfully hostile to a working slob, but she managed to zone out any bad vibes by reminding herself that he worked for a Wolfram & Hart owned company.

She found Fred quickly enough. She was by one of the phone banks with Gunn and Willow, neither of whom looked incredibly happy.

"He's been a big help. Wesley would have died without him." Fred was speaking in that tone she tried not to use about Wes.

"Fred, he was once this firm's boy wonder. Every time he goes to the bathroom, he has an ulterior motive." Gunn was being firm bordering on angry.

"If we let having once been evil be a prerequisite for not trusting them, half the people at this firm wouldn't be working here," Willow pointed out.

Gunn glared at Willow. "All due respect, you don't know this guy, you don't know his track record."

Dawn decided this was a good time to jump in "Excuse me, would someone mind telling me who the hell you're arguing about?"

Fred turned her attention to Dawn. "When Angel, Connor and Wesley were looking for Jasmine they ran into Lindsey McDonald."

It took Dawn a few seconds to remember who Lindsey was (she had only heard him mentioned a few times before) and then she did. "Oh great. So they managed to recruit another familiar face to the dark side."

"No, if you believe him he's fighting for our side now," Gunn said in a tone that said he thought this was as likely as Celine Dion being able to sing in more than one key.

"And I take that this is a subject of-- discussion?" Dawn said with a slight air of sarcasm.

"He says that he has valuable information about what the ultimate end-game of today is," Fred responded.

"We already know what the end-game is. World comes to an end, human race wiped out, yadda yadda yadda." said Dawn.

At this Fred shook her head. "He says that Wolfram & Hart would never back a plan with that as the ultimate result."

This was a news flash. "Isn't evil taking over the world their plan?" she asked, perplexed.

"If you believe Lindsey, evil already controls much of the world," said Willow. "They're invested in spreading evil through humanity, not against it. "

Dawn was going to say she didn't buy it, then thought about what she had heard or gleaned from her time with the villains. Destroying the world had never been mentioned. But if that was the case-- "So what IS the goal?"

"According to Lindsey it involves the release of an evil force--"

"They've already done that!" said Dawn frustrated.

"--from another dimension." finished Fred. "Something that only Jasmine can access."

"How and where?"

Fred and Gunn looked at each other. Fred finally spoke. "That's just it. Lindsey says he'll only tell us what he knows if we guarantee his protection against the senior partners."

"Thus the argument," said Dawn, understanding. "So why this delay?"

Willow took a deep breath. "Angel said he'll only do this if enough people on the board agree to it. We've spent the last twenty minutes tracking everyone down."

"How many have?" Dawn asked even though she was pretty sure of the answer.

"Wesley and Angel said yes. So did Buffy and Lorne. Giles, Faith and Kennedy voted no. " Fred paused. "I vote yes."

Gunn looked ahead defiantly. "No fucking way."

Willow hesitated. Then she sighed. "I agree with Gunn."

Now everyone was looking at Dawn.

"What about Xander and Robin?" Dawn asked, trying to buy some time.

"We can't reach them. And before you talk about absentee ballots, we talked to a majority of the board." said Willow. "Besides, we've spent enough time as it is on this."

Dawn wanted to protest this when she realized that they had been at this a while. Time was running short and a decision had to be made.

She took a deep breath and made her choice.

3:37:40/3:37:41/3:37:42/3:37:43

Even though Angel had decided to let the others vote on what to do about Lindsey, and even though he had voted in favor of trusting him, he still wasn't very comfortable with the whole idea. Trusting anyone who worked for Wolfram & Hart was a risky decision under the best of circumstances (which these weren't) and Lindsey had the habit of changing his side like the winds.

But the cold truth was they had all but run out of options. Roderick, the vampire that they had captured earlier that they had been getting what information they had, was basically hollowed out. According to Fred, if they did anymore damage to him, he would fall apart. The people who had attacked Angel and Connor -- thus forcing Lindsey to enter stage left -- were refusing to say anything and they didn't have the time to try and extract information from them. Their only other choices depended on if Faith and Giles could track down the truck or whether or not the people at Angel-Slayer could find the car that Thompson had been driving when he left the warehouse earlier in the afternoon. And since those were very big ifs they had to rely on the one bit of information they had that was solid. In a manner of speaking.

So when his cell rang he found himself, much against his will, hoping that they had made the right decision.

He fumbled for a moment before opening it. "Yeah."

It was Fred. "Angel, we've decided."

"And?"

There was a pause. "Make the deal."

Angel cursed himself for feeling relief. "All right."

"Angel." Fred hesitated. "Just because we say we're going to offer him protection doesn't mean we have to."

It took Angel several seconds to get over the fact that Fred had just said something like that. "That's not how we do things."

"You're saying if our situation was reversed he wouldn't do the same thing?" Fred said.

Angel thought-- really thought-- about it. "We can't do this."

"All right. Forget I said it." She hung up.

Angel turned towards Lindsey and Wes. "We've agreed to help you."

"That's all you talked about?" said Lindsey with the suggestion of a smile.

Angel put on his best poker face. "Some of the others were pissed about this."

"You were talking about trying to fuck me over?" Lindsey spoke so casually that it took a few seconds to Angel to realize what he had just said. Lindsey had a smug look on his face. "Don't take it too hard. Situations reversed I'd have done the same."

"No you wouldn't try."

Angel whirled around -- even with his good hearing he hadn't noticed Buffy and Spike approaching.

Buffy had a perfectly blank face as well. "You'd do it. And lie to our face."

"Ah Miss Summers." said Lindsey cheerfully. "I see that my reputation precedes me."

Buffy walked right up to him. "Yes it does." In one motion, she reached in and grabbed Lindsey by the collar of his leather jacket. "Let's be clear. If we didn't need your help I'd gladly give you a thorough ass-kicking myself." She pushed him back. "Don't screw us over Mr. McDonald. You won't like us when we're angry."

Lindsey straightened, apparently not bothered at all by the last couple of minutes.

"Now tell us what you know." Buffy snarled.

Lindsey turned around so that he was looking at all of them. "As you are no doubt aware the walls between dimensions are thinner around Los Angeles." He looked at Angel. "That's one of the reasons why portals are easier to open."

"Yes," said Angel neutrally.

"Many of these alternate dimensions are inhabited by demons and other monsters. Others are very similar to this one with only minor differences-- say Jefferson is on the five dollar bill instead of Lincoln, or Eisenhower is on the dime instead of FDR."

"Or the world has no shrimp. Get to the point," said Buffy.

"These dimensions exist on different physical planes. The same people can exist in many different dimensions simultaneously. If, however, two of these same people from different dimensions should interact--poof!" Lindsey clapped his hand.

"Both people would disappear," said Wesley.

"Not merely disappear," Lindsey said calmly. "Both would be erased from existence. Everything and every action that was made over their lifetime would never have happened."

The magnitude of this was staggering. Spike reacted first. "Bollocks. That's bloody science fiction. It's that stupid Jimmy Stewart movie."

" No it is not. Call your physicist. She should know all about this theory."

"Hah!" exclaimed Buffy. "Theory! You don't have any idea if it works!"

"I know that it works, Miss Summers" Lindsey was sounding even more self-satisfied "because it was a major project of the science department. It was rarely done and when it was on people who wouldn't be missed."

"Granting this is true-- which I'm not sold on-- who are they planning to eliminate?" asked Angel.

"I don't know exactly who." said Lindsey. He reached into his pocket. "But I can narrow it down." He pulled out a piece of paper. "Seven names. All of them you know. All of who would give evil a big leg up if they had never been."

Angel took the paper. Buffy still wasn't convinced: "I've got another question. How exactly are they going to do this in the first place?"

"That's where it gets tricky. Getting access to these dimensions isn't easy. You need to know someone who has the ability to navigate temporal boundaries. And there aren't many of those in this dimension."

"And Jasmine is one of them." said Spike.

"No." Everyone looked at Lindsey in surprise. "But she is the one capable of controlling the one who can."

"So where is this creature?" asked Wesley.

"Right now?" Lindsey said. "Santa Monica."

"He's hiding there?"

Lindsey gave another cocky smile. "No, he's been in plain sight the whole time."

"Come on!" said the vampire urgently "Those people could come back any time!"

The other vampire looked up and shot him a condescending look. "Those idiots haven't been gone for hours. They have no idea that its here." He returned to his search.

"What makes you so sure they didn't find it anyway?"

"A, They don't know where to look for it, B, it was well hidden, C, shut up!"

The two vampires searched in silence for thirty seconds before the second one said: "Eureka!"

"What? You told me we were going to Baldwin Hills!"

"You are truly an idiot, Howard, but that's beside the point."

He held up the cylinder that he had found under the second layer of paneling in the floor of the diner. "We've got it."

Howard walked over to his comrade. "Sure that's it?"

"I don't know. You want to open it and find out?"

"Shit, no!" said Howard, recoiling at the very idea.

"All right then. Now we have to meet Harmony in an hour."

The two of them left the diner-- which had been less than two blocks from the house Holtz had trained those who had joined in his quest for vengeance-- carrying something that even if Buffy and her friends had found they wouldn't have recognized. Only Angel, Gunn and Fred might have known what it was and even they had never gotten in a close look.

It was a Recitian urn.

3:48:11/3:48:12/3:48:13/3:48:14

At this hour traffic on both the freeway and Route 10 was still very light. So finding out where they were going was more a problem of the intelligence rather then the traffic. Considering the resources afforded them, it was inevitable that Angel-Slayer would locate the truck-- it was on a side street off Venice Boulevard. It hadn't moved in five minutes (according to Fred's information).And that was what had Giles' mental alarm system going off. It seemed that he and Faith had found it far too easily.

He knew this was a foolish assumption. It hadn't been easy finding the truck it had just felt that way because they hadn't been doing the work. And it was very likely that at some point the driver would leave his vehicle.

Nevertheless, as he and Faith got out of the car, he couldn't help but think something smelled off about.

"Well lookee here." said Faith. "Not a great white hope but a big black truck. There had better be some great toy surprise inside that thing after all this."

Giles was concerned whether or not Faith was just fronting after the last few hours. However, he knew better than to inquire. That part of their relationship was severely damaged if not stone dead. So he decided to focus on the task at hand. "Does this seem right to you?" he asked as they walked to the truck.

"What, because an expensive, conspicuous vehicle has been left completely unguarded in a city where cars get hotwired every five minutes?" Faith said dryly. "No, everything seems hunky-dory."

By now the two of them had reached the truck. Without speaking the two of them began walking around the truck, Faith on one side, him on the other. Giles wasn't entirely sure what they would do if someone was actually in the car but that never became an issue. The two of them managed to circle the truck without incident.

"That accomplished a lot," said Faith. "Well, now I suppose we should probably see if we can get any information from the truck itself."

"I suppose," Giles said.

"Of course, it's probably wired with explosives." said Faith.

Giles looked at Faith in alarm. "Faith, they've been driving that vehicle all day."

"I know that." said Faith.

"They used it to transport Willow and Spike."

"I know that too," she said indignantly.

"I doubt they even know how to do such a thing."

"So there's no way that it's wired to explode"

Giles thought about it. "No, of course it's wired to explode." he sighed.

Now Faith thought for a second. "Of course, it'll probably only explode if we open one of the doors."

Giles thought about this. "That would make sense," he admitted.

"If I was to, say, shatter the windshield, we could probably get in that way."

This seemed to be the way to go. Yet he had the feeling that there was a bear-trap in this idea. Before he could voice his concerns, however, Faith had jumped on to the hood.

She paused, counted to three, and then kicked the windshield in. Without thinking Giles tensed-- but nothing happened.

"You know I'm getting real disappointed by the way things keep--" Faith never finished the sentence. Instead, she jumped off the truck a split second before the bolt of energy hit the truck.

Giles barely had time to react before the world exploded.

3:54:09/3:54:10/3:54:11

"All right, here's how its going to work." They had agreed to let Angel do the talking when it came to dealing with Lindsey. "Buffy, Wesley and myself are going to try and track down this demon that you say has this power over time and space."

"First, he does have this power. Second, how are you going to find him? I didn't give you his address." The smugness in Lindsey's voice was becoming irritating.

Angel walked until he was less than six inches away from Lindsey. "First, don't you dare take that tone." Lindsey had the sense to shut up. "Second, I know the demon you're talking about. And because I know the last person that knew where he was, we have a very good idea where he's cooped up. Our organization is very efficient that way." Now he allowed himself a smile. "But then you know that first-hand."

Wesley decided to step in. "In any case Spike will be taking you and Connor to the Hyperion where we can afford better security."

This was news to Spike. "Hey when did I become the bloody hall monitor?"

Buffy turned to him. "We need someone with muscle and we can't afford to have anyone else distracted. Could you please just-- "

"All right." Spike decided not to argue.

Connor, however, did. "Why are you doing this? I've proven I can take care of myself."

"You misunderstand." said Wesley. "You're going to be helping to protect…" Wes did not want to use this name "…Lindsey." When Connor hesitated, he added: "You've been doing a great job so far but you can help us more by keeping him-- and yourself -- safe."

Connor mulled this over. Finally, he walked over to Lindsey. "How are we getting to the hotel?" he asked. (All the various groups comings and goings had left those that were left with only one car-- Angel's)

Angel looked somewhat relieved that this had passed. "When we called to get confirmation on Lindsey's info, we got them to send you a car and a driver. They should be able to pick you up in about five minutes."

Buffy looked at her watch. "If we have any chance to stop this thing, we should get moving."

"One moment." Angel pulled Spike aside. "You've got your soul back," he said quietly.

"Yeah." Spike responded just as quietly.

"The chip's out of your head."

"Yeah."

"You can make your own decisions."

"Always could."

"If this somehow goes wrong" Angel looked towards Lindsey "kill him."

Spike looked surprised for a split second. Then he gave a small smile. "No problem." He walked back towards Lindsey and Connor.

Angel walked towards Wes and Buffy as they began to walk back to Angel's car. However, Buffy seemed concerned. "What's the problem?" he asked.

"Giles and Faith are probably closer to Santa Monica than we are. I've been trying to reach them but no ones picking up."

There was, of course, a perfectly good reason Giles couldn't answer his cell phone. When the explosion had knocked him down, his landing had crushed it.

Not that Giles could have answered it in any case. He was busy trying to stay conscious. Getting to his feet seemed out of the question and he couldn't see Faith anywhere.

In fact the only thing he could really see was a pair of neat brown loafers that had walked into his line of sight. He tried to look up but he couldn't do it. Not that he had to. He knew who the shoes belonged to. He knew even before the owner spoke in a dry, victorious tone.

"Hello Ripper."

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