Disclosure
by Chaoseternus

The Truth Is Out At Last, Are You Ready For It?

Twenty-five

"“All right,"” O'Malley barked, his voice distorted and amplified by the loudspeaker in his hands, “"you are going to retake the mountain! Remember your training, and remember that not only are you in confined space, but underground, if you cause any structural collapses, you may bring down the whole mountain on top of you."

"With each team will be experienced officer from the Council of Watchers. As many of you have seen, they are very experienced in killing the Teraken assassins; they know what they are doing. They have little experience in fighting soldiers however and we know there are mercs inside the mountain. You protect them from the mercenaries and they will protect you from the Terakens, teamwork will allow you to win this, remember that!"

"Also be aware that survivors may be still trapped inside the mountain, so if you see movement, make sure you identify before you shoot!”"

The tall General glanced grimly across the assembled troops, the fifteen teams that had the task of initial insertion into the mountain complex. He wanted to fix them into his mind one last time, for he knew many, perhaps all, would not come back from this.

“"There is a base self-destruct, this was activated yesterday and should have detonated yesterday. Obviously it didn't, and that means there is at least Eight thermonuclear devices inside the mountain whose status is unknown. That is why many of you have Geiger counters and why we have two NEST teams waiting outside the mountain. If you find a device, secure it and make damn sure somebody gets word out to us, understood?”"

He watched, his heart proudly swelling as each man women, and as much as he hated to say it, child, nodded, their eyes proclaiming that they understood all to well what was being asked of them. And none, not even the children the council of watchers had working for them looked in danger of breaking, their eyes told him all to clearly that they knew their duty, their purpose. He hated that children had such looks in their eyes, they should not know of Duty before they were out of High School, but these did. However much Ms Rosenberg might tell him it was part and parcel of choosing to be a Slayer, he didn't like it.

“"Good Luck,"” he said finally, "“now, go take back that mountain!”"

He watched with sinking heart, but proud eyes as the teams tore past his Guards, and into the mountain itself, one-hundred and fifteen Slayers, Witches, Soldiers, Seals and Special Forces, a mixed bag of all the able bodied warriors he could scrape together.

He hoped it would be enough.

“General,” his aide came up behind him, “Bravo-twelve reports unidentified soldiers crawling up the mountain”

O'Malley sighed, and turned to his work. He still had to make sure the mountain entrance stayed secure.


“"So,"” Sergeant Reeman asked, his tone conversationally as he carefully stayed in front of the red head, blocking any line of fire to their ace in the hole, “"how long you been a..."

Willow snorted, she was already used to that response, the sudden trail off as the individual suddenly realised they were going to use ‘witch' to describe someone and worse, that they were going to mean it.

Time, she decided, for a little fun.

“"Lesbian?”" she suggested.

Reeman choked, echoed the eight other warriors that made up his team, "“heh, no," he finally spat out, having spotted the teasing tone, “"I'm sure you have a good boyfriend somewhere. What I meant was, how long have you been a witch?”"

Willow grinned, “"Actually I have a good Girlfriend , but she's in Africa at the moment. Knowing sweetie, I hope they keep her away from any explosives”"

Reeman starred agog at Willow for a moment, then very firmly turned his mind back to the job. It wasn't exactly easy.


O'Malley glared at the maps in front of him, hating the message that they were delivering. Spread far too thin, that's what his problem was. Too many brushfires, too many cities collapsing into chaos or on the very brink and not enough forces to respond to each.

It meant that those who, like him, had a real problem on their hands were very much on their own. He hated that, this was America, land of the Proud! They should have the units to respond to as many brushfires as they wanted, not that many years ago, they did have. But there had been too many cutbacks since the end of the last world war, too much gradual erosion of the nations Military Strength and since the fall of communism, it had all just accelerated.

America was supposed to have enough units to respond to two all out wars at any one time, nowadays they barely had enough to respond to one, yet they were being asked to respond to half a dozen and it showed.

Africa, this blasted mountain, the aliens, most of their damned cities and that should not ever have happened; soldiers were not trained to keep the peace within their own nation! Yet, they had too; the Police were overwhelmed almost everywhere. In Detroit, half the Police Force had died, died before infantry arrived to enforce the peace, the Pax Americana, he thought bitterly.

An aide stepped over, moving several markers across the map, more activity at the Silo in which the Stargate had been hidden away from sight for many years. The bastards still held that entrance and there was little he could do about it. The only forces he had available were tanks and they would have a hard time in that area.

God, how he wished he had more air support, but despite his pleas, all they had managed to rustle up for him was a Cap of four Tomcats, not even bombcats. They couldn't help him against the forces on the ground.

But, he sighed; this was and always had been part of the job of General. You did the best with what you had; there wasn't really much other choice.


“"Hold!"” Willow barked, instantly the Soldiers around her froze, eyes flickering into every possible corner an enemy could hide. They could see nothing, but they knew enough to trust Willows judgement. You had to trust those who fought at your side after all, if you didn't, you would be in real trouble.

“"Os ego animadverto, ostendo sum ut totus!”"
“("Sight I see, reveal to all”")

Reeman blinked, as in a flash, a claymore and tripwire appeared, just two inches in front of his left foot.

"Call it a little closer next time why don't you Willow”" he wryly commented, backing with exquisite care away from the tripwire.

Willow shook her head, “"Next time I could just let you walk into it?”"

Reeman thought about that for all of a microsecond, “"I think I'll pass”"

A snort came from Corporal Devon as she carefully stepped forward, kneeling right next to the wire, “"wise choice”"

She reached forward, and warily snipped the tripwire in two right next to the detonator. Dropping a fluorescent live ordinance tag next to the claymore, she rolled the rest of the wire up and rose to her feet.

Very cautiously, the team walked past the disabled, but not disarmed device and continued into the mountain.


"“Sir,”" the General glanced up from the plot, acknowledging his aide once more, hoping for good news, but not willing to bet on it. There had been too much bad news recently.

“"There's a B-52 inbound, call-sign Hi-jinx,"” O'Malley smiled at the report he was handed, “"We have to splash the target and tell them how many bombs we want dropped each time, but they have a full bay and can hang around for a couple of hours. Exact details are on the report sir”"

“"Thank you”" O'Malley replied, somewhat more cheerfully then he had been for the last few hours. The Air Force had promised him some form of Air Support he could use against ground targets and boy had they delivered, even if a B-52 for close support wasn't exactly a normal choice. They were far more often used either for Cruise Missile launches, or to for some urban clearance, Carpet Bombing style.

He would have to find out how many Laser Target designators were floating around, he would need them all.


“"Contego of diluculo!”"
“("Shield of Dawn!”")

Reeman swore, hands swiftly slamming a new clip into his rifle without him ever taking his eyes of the form that was attacking the team, dark sunken eyes, black cloak, eyes that seemed to have an evil, malevolent glow within… oh yes, this guy wasn't likely to be on his side of the battle. Of course, the fact that the gits first move had been to throw a fireball which damn near incinerated him wasn't hat much of a give away, really.

Least Willow had a really cool shield up know, and the number of times he could have used one of those on previous missions

His weapon raised, he aimed and fired, a black suited mercenary dropping to the ground, a growing red stain spreading across his forehead. Headshot, Reeman smiled, nice, he certainly wouldn't be able to get up again.

He swung hiss weapon, grinned at the frustrated growls from the other side of the shield, as bullets and strange energy bursts flashed into non-existence upon contacting the strange orangey-blue glow.

He fired, the weapon shuddering in his hands, bullets dancing off concrete as his target ducked into cover. Well, he couldn't have it always, but if he timed it just right

He paused in his firing, pulling at the magazine, the mercenary, no doubt thinking he had to change magazines darted out of cover, and aimed, but Reeman smiled evilly and slammed the clip straight back into position, and fired.

Another mercenary down, not that the merc could have hit him anyway, not with that shield up. Speaking of which

He reached across, tapping at Willows shoulder. She glanced across, her feet not entirely on the ground and he mouthed grenade, nodding at the hostile mage.

She nodded, her feet rising further of the ground, the shield visibly strengthening, and Reeman knew she had understood.

He reached down, rifle dropping onto its strap as he grabbed a grenade of his belt, and pulled its pin. Carefully waiting for the grenades timer to hit 3, he threw the small egg underarm though the mystical barrier. He stood up, placing himself directly between Willow and the blast, just in case she hadn't reinforced the shield enough, his mind carefully counting, four, five...

There was no six.

But there was a sudden wetness on the back of his neck. He reached up cautiously, his hand testing his neck, there seemed to be wetness, most likely blood but he could feel no injury. He brought his hands up in front of his eyes, blood, but if it wasn't his, whose?

“"Fuck!”" he cursed, spinning around, grabbing Willow just in time to stop her collapsing to the ground.

“"Power spike"” she gasped, “"no big, I just need a few to recover”"

Reeman noticed the blood dripping from her nose; he glanced back to where the shield was. It was still up.

Nodding, he grabbed, hold of her face and forced the witch to look directly into his eyes, “"are you sure you are okay?”"

“"Yes,"” Willow nodded weakly, "“just need to recover a second"

Satisfied, he carefully helped her to the ground, and then turned to the team, “"We're holding here for five, grab a drink, check your ammo but don't forget to stay vigilant”"