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Chapter Twenty Nine - The Art of Escapology

The streets were deserted – a veritable ghost town, scarred by battle, desolate and uninviting. They cruised slowly down the street, headlights off, hoping for their presence to go undetected for as long as possible.

Giles pulled over a block and a half away from the hotel and looked towards the back of the van.

"Faith?"

"I'll go check it out."

Stealthily, she slipped out of the van and ran down the street, keeping to the shadows. In less than two minutes, she had returned.

"There are a crowd of demons outside the hotel, but I can't see our people."

"Did you see anything?" Giles asked, worried. "Anything that might suggest what has happened?"

"Corpses," Faith replied. "All I saw were lots and lots of corpses."

"They're still alive," Cordelia announced. Faith was about to ask how she could possibly know when she saw the seer's eyes. They were gleaming white as the vision came to her.

"They're inside the hotel – the ballroom," she continued. "We have to get them out. They don't have much time."

"How?" Faith asked. "There are a hell of a lot of demons between us and them. Not to mention, two unstoppable Senior Partners, if what you've told us is right. I like stiff odds as much as the next girl, but…"

Cordy cut her off. "Giles? Take the next left."

"Where are we going?" the Watcher asked.

"If we can't get them out by the front door, we'll get them out the back," was her only, cryptic, reply.

The doors shook violently again. It was only a matter of time before the powerful demons punched their way through the force-field. And then they'd all be sitting ducks.

Buffy was still unconscious. Kennedy was dead. Faith was in another dimension somewhere. Willow swallowed hard as she realized it was now up to her to take charge.

"Okay, listen up!" she announced in a voice filled with confidence she didn't really feel. "We have maybe 20 minutes before they punch their way in here. And I somehow can't see the cavalry riding in to save us. So, it's up to us."

There was a murmur throughout the room – a defeated, frightened clamoring that didn't bode well.

"Look! I'm not going to lie to you. We might very well die today. There's a hell of a lot of demons still out there and we're cornered."

"Don't sugar coat it or nothin'," Rondell remarked.

"Sorry, but I don't have time to mother you right now," the red-head snapped back. "But here's the thing. You are all warriors. And together, we can face this."

The response she received made it clear that they didn't feel very much like warriors right now. They were tired. Each and every one of them had witnessed their friends die horrible deaths. And now, against these new, even more frightening odds, they had never felt further from being warriors in their lives.

"Slayers – this is your birthright. You are the chosen ones," Willow insisted. "And the rest of you; you are these unique individuals - demon or human - who've chosen to stand up against the forces of evil and drive them back.

"This was never going to be an easy battle. We all knew what was at stake going into this. And right now things aren't going our way, but we can't use that as an excuse to just give up. We are not going to die cowering in a corner! If we're going to die, we're going to go down fighting. Like all the other slayers who came before you. Like our friends that were lost today." She glanced at the unconscious slayer, still being tended to by Spike. "Like Buffy."

The murmur rose again, but it was more confident this time – resigned, perhaps, but once more ready and willing to fight.

Xander and Dawn stationed themselves at Willow's side. "What do you want us to do?"

"Move the injured to the far side of the room. Then make sure everyone's armed," she instructed. "Xander, do we have any grenades or rockets left?"

"Some," he replied. "We're down to one rocket launcher, though."

She nodded. "Get ready."

The van pulled over once more, this time outside a bus depot, a few blocks south of the Hyperion.

"There's the sewer entrance. There," Cordelia told them, pointing it out. "Get it opened and sent a squad down to make sure it's clear. About three blocks north, there's a ladder that takes you up into the basement of the hotel. I can get them to it from the ballroom."

"What if you can't?" Faith wanted to know.

Cordelia didn't have an answer to that. If they couldn't, then they'd simply have to find another way. But, for the life of her, Cordy couldn't think what that way might be.

"Giles, the rest of you secure transportation. If my vision is right, there are still around one hundred and fifty of our people left."

Giles raised an eyebrow incredulously. "Yes, wait one moment while I charter a train."

"How about a couple of buses," she replied, the sarcasm in her voice reminding him forcefully of the old Cordelia, as she nodded towards the bus depot across the street. "It's not like anyone else is using them right now. The city's deserted."

The Englishman cleared his throat, somewhat embarrassed. "Uh… right. Good thinking."

"Let's do it," Faith said.

A crack was appearing in the ballroom's once grand doors. A tiny fissure, but one that would grow in minutes. One that would spell their end.

The door buckled again, as though a tremendous force was pressing against it. The crack grew by another inch and the slayers watching it braced the weapons in their hands. Any moment now.

As the door rattled yet again, Willow took a breath and held her hand, palm up, outstretched towards it. Muttering an incantation, an invisible force braced the door. As long as her energy held, so would the door.

But neither would hold for long.

A throat cleared behind them and Willow was startled to here Cordelia Chase's voice calling out to her.

"Need some help?"

So tense was the atmosphere in the room that several slayers pointed their weapons at the newly appeared seer. She merely rolled her eyes.

"You want to call off your bodyguards, Will? We don't have a whole lot of time here."

"How do we know it's really you?" Willow asked, her hand still magically bracing the door, but her eyes now trained on the brunette. "You might be dead and the First is back, doing its best Queen C impersonation."

Cordy sighed. "Ask me something, then. Something only the real Cordelia would know."

Willow thought for a moment, but Xander got in there first.

"Where was the worst place we ever made out in High School?" he challenged her.

She raised an eyebrow. "You mean apart from the first time in Buffy's basement, with creepy Bug Boy trying to get in?" she quipped. "It's got to be the janitor's closet nearest the library. That place totally smelt like feet. And tuna fish. A feet and tuna fish sandwich."

Xander smirked at the memory. "It's her."

Willow sighed in relief. "Cordy, how did you get in here?"

"What? You mean you don't have any of my powers?" Cordelia replied. "Look, we need to get everyone out of here. There's a ladder leading to the sewer tunnels from the basement. Behind the stage in here, there's a trap door leading down to the basement."

Xander looked wary. "What if the demons are in the basement?"

Cordy shook her head. "They're not. I teleported in there on my way here to make sure the coast was clear. But we need to do this quickly and quietly, before they do decide to go down there for a lookie-loo. There are a group of slayers on their way up the tunnel as we speak. They'll meet you and take you to Faith and the others."

She glanced over to the witch, who was beginning to tire with the strain of holding the doors shut. "Willow and I will hold them off for as long as we can."

Xander began to mobilize everyone. "Okay, you heard the lady. Quickly and quietly. Help the injured out of here first. Spike? You look after Buffy?"

"Always do," the blond vampire replied, lifting the unconscious woman into his arms as though she weighed nothing and heading towards the trapdoor Cordelia had pointed out.

Cordy went to Willow's side and held up her hands, mimicking the witch's actions. The door, which had begun to buckle once more, strengthened immediately.

"Thanks," Willow said with a smile.

Ten minutes later, the room was empty, except for the red head and the brunette. They had given their people the best head-start they could and were beginning to tire with the effort of holding back the demons.

Willow looked at Cordelia, the tiny beads of perspiration on her forehead the only real indicator of the effort she was putting in. "Can you hold this alone for a couple of seconds? I want to disguise the trapdoor with a glamour, so the demons can't follow us so quickly."

Cordy nodded. "Be quick."

Willow took her hand away and ran towards the stage. Immediately, the door began to buckle, and it was all Cordy could do to stop it opening altogether.

She heard Willow mutter something and then she was back at her side, helping with the door again.

"All done?"

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "Let's get out of here."

Simultaneously, they lowered their hands and the door, no longer held closed by magic, sprang open. The Wolf and the Ram snarled, then froze in confusion. Two people? Where had everyone gone?

Before they could finish processing the situation, much less attack, Cordelia waved sarcastically at them and both she and Willow had teleported out.

To Be Continued...