FIC: A New World (8?)
"Sir," Agent F rushed into the board room that served as their organisation's headquarters, foregoing the customary knock on the door in his haste. "I have the surveillance reports from Zabuto's residence."
"Excellent!" An interested gleam in his eyes, his group leader leaned forward. "Please continue."
"It's bad news I'm afraid. As well as Xander and Faith," his mouth twisted in disgust at having to mention that little bitch's name, "it appears that Mr. Giles and Slayers Vi Roberts and Rona Jones also survived."
"Three Slayers and Rupert," his boss pursed his lips together in thought. "Harris is a nonentity but the others…."
"Yes sir," Agent F replied. He secretly disagreed with the Englishman's assumption that only the empowered and the trained could be of use. Personal experience had taught that Xander could be very dangerous, especially when those he cared for were under threat or hurt. His one regret about this operation was Xander's inevitable demise. The others he didn't care about, but Xander was different. However his former friend's renowned loyalty meant he had to die.
"Yes," his organisation chief appeared not to have heard his interruption. "And what of them since, what reports do we have?"
"There's a police report of an one-eyed man mugging a businessman for a mobile and a boarding-house in Oxford of a booking made by the same man, then nothing."
"Um, they are proving trickier than I expected. Still," his boss drummed his fingers on the oak table before him for a few seconds, "I think it's time to proceed with stage 2 of our plan, the sweep-up."
Agent F nodded. "Yes sir, I'll go give the orders."
"Got everything Dawn?" Connor hid a sigh at the lack of animation in his partner's eyes. His enhanced hearing had never seemed like a such a curse as he sat helplessly in the next room listening to Dawn's sobs for the last two nights. The worse thing was he could do nothing but protect her.
And part of protecting her were their nightly moves to different hotels as dad had instructed him. He'd chosen night-time for their moves as the lesser of two evils. At night there'd probably be more dangerous creatures searching for them, but the cloak of darkness made finding them more difficult. "Let's go."
"Hello Tommy."
Tommy Stevens looked up at the voice. He recognised the one-eyed speaker as Al Lewis, a yank he'd done some work for around a year ago. And this time he'd brought company – three cracking birds and a bookish-looking older geezer. "Right Al," he nodded gratefully at the pint the American put in front of him.
"I've got some work for you," Al dropped onto the bar stool opposite him, the older man standing behind him, and the three corkers taking up almost sentry positions around him. "My companions need the same documentation you did for me."
Tommy gave the young American a measured look. Even through the pub's smoke-filled haze he could see that the younger man's air of defeat had replaced by one of purpose, his posture was straighter and his eyes noticeably more alert. Finally he spoke. "Forty thou the lot, take five days."
"No," Al shook his head. "Too long. Sixty grand for Thursday."
Tommy raised an eyebrow, briefly wondering at the urgency. "You're having a laugh aren't you? Eighty for three days."
Al drummed his fingers on the table between them before shaking his head. "How about this? One hundred and twenty K for Wednesday."
Tommy blinked before reaching across the table and offering his hand. "Forty grand now?"
"Deal," Al shook his hand before looking behind him. "Faith."
The brunette stunner passed him four brown envelopes from within the thickly packed sports bag she was carrying with surprisingly effortlessness. After a quick peek into the envelopes, he nodded. "Great," he stood. "You got the photos?" Al passed him four photo booth strips. "What names do you want?" he noted them down. "Meet me in here, Wednesday at dinner."
Al smiled. "Thanks."
"One hundred and twenty thousand quid!" G raged as they hurried back to the SUV they'd bought in Xan's assumed name. "The bloke's a sodding scoundrel!"
X-Man chuckled dryly. "The man's a criminal G-man, what did you expect? Tea and crumpets?" Xan's face sobered. "Yeah, we were jobbed but he does great work and if paying extra gets us to Dawn sooner…"
"Yes," G sighed. For a second Faith felt guilty for the Englishman's haggard weariness, knowing that her outburst had contributed to it. But only for a second, it wasn't like she'd lied or anything. "And what do you propose we do for the next day and a half?"
Faith opened her mouth to suggest finding the local demon kingpin and beating some information out of him but Xander beat her to the punch. "I've always wanted to see some of London – Buckingham Palace, Tower Of London, Big Ben, that sort of thing."
Faith bristled at Xander's airy tone. "Our friends are fucking dead, some unknown evil is hunting us, and you want to go sight-seeing?" she hissed. "Are you -."
"Faith," Xander's tone was soft but filled with an indefinable something that halted her in mid-rant. "Whoever's after us will be combing every hotel, boarding-house, and pub in the country looking for us. We can't just stay in one place. We have to keep moving."
"And where's less likely for us to be than a sight-seeing tour," Faith nodded in understanding. "I get. Sorry for-."
"Doesn't matter," Xander forestalled her apology with a raised hand. "We're all stressed out."
Faith stared appraisingly at Xander's broad back as the founding Scooby led them back to the car. She'd always thought of Xander as loyal, funny, and wicked brave but no so much with the smarts.
But the last couple of days had shown different. Xman was real resourceful and with G a mess her former boytoy had taken over the running of the group with an efficiency that had surprised her. For the first time she was giving his offer of being her Watcher serious consideration.
"We're here Mr. Angel," the pale-faced pilot reported as the plane taxied down onto the privately owned airfield.
"We have reached our destination?" Illyria enquired from her position stood at the back of the cockpit.
"Yes," Angel glanced from left to right. Satisfied that the airfield was empty he turned towards the pilot. "I don't have to -."
His eyes widened as Illyria snatched hold of the WH employee's head and twisted, breaking the man's neck. "Why the hell did you do that?" he exploded to his feet. "We don't just kill people!"
The goddess appeared unmoved in the face of his fury. "Was his continued existence not a threat to our safety? Would he not have informed on our whereabouts? Would he not have placed your son at risk? Is he not more important to you than the minion of your enemy?" Angel stared at the blue-haired woman. There were some questions that not even the best of guides could answer.
Taking his silence as assent, Illyria pushed past him. "Let us leave here," she ordered, her tone lofty. "We must immediately track down your son."
Angel smiled unwillingly. At least he'd get to see Connor soon. Although, his stomach clenched, there'd also be the ordeal of seeing a grief-stricken Dawn.
"Faith! Wait up!"
Faith glanced over her shoulder and scowled at the chubby figure hurrying after her. "X, I just want some time alone, k?"
"No it isn't," Xander corrected as he stopped beside her as she shoved open the hotel front door open and stepped out into the drizzly night. Fucking limey summers. "Tonight madam, I'm your shadow."
"Damn it X!" Faith snarled. "I'm not gonna go psycho."
"I know you're not," Xander replied his tone even. "It's you I'm worried about."
Faith glanced at her unwelcome companion. "What do you mean?"
"I don't want you getting loaded and giving yourself to some sleaze not fit to lace your boots."
Faith stared up into Xander's eyes, rocked by the concern she saw there. "Why do you give a shit?"
Xander sighed. "Because when Buffy and Willow left because of burn-out you didn't. You tried to help me when I was at my lowest. I'm just trying to re-pay the favour."
After a second Faith nodded and turned back to the hotel. "Wanna go back in? Maybe spend a few hours about talking about Woodie and Anya?"
"Yeah," Xander let out a rattling sigh and smiled wistfully. "I'd like that. It's been a long time since I talked about Anya to anyone."
Agent W bounced up and down in his seat as his quarry turned back into the hotel. The genius mastermind of the nefarious global network he was now a loyal minion of had been most displeased when Faith had managed to slip the net. But now he was redeemed. "Just like Vader in Return of The Jedi or Londo in Babylon 5!" Calming himself, he dialled his mobile. "I need an extraction team stat!" He beamed as he hung up. He'd always wanted to say that. Agent W scowled as he realised he hadn't told them where he needed the team. Sighing, he picked up the phone and re-dialled it.
