12

Toronto, Canada – May 18th, 2004

Ethan walks down the hallway slowly, deliberately taking his time to annoy Carson Davies. It is nearly 10 pm and Ethan had been hoping to head home soon for some much needed sleep. His benefactor was a man who did not like to be kept waiting, almost as much as Ethan loathed being "summoned." The Englishman had purposely taken the stairs just to top it off. He arrives at Carson's office door and makes an obscene gesture with his finger before knocking politely on the heavy oak finish.

"Enter," Carson's voice calls impatiently from inside and Ethan's mouth twitches into a tiny smile before he resumes his poker face and opens the door to Davies' expansive office. The corner office allows a magnificent view of Lake Ontario and the lakeshore skyline. Carson is at the far end sitting at the head of a large conference table with a mass of files stacked neatly to one side. A uniformed military officer stands to Davies' left, gesturing at a spreadsheet on the table and obviously none to pleased.

"See here Carson," the officer is saying in a deep Mississippi drawl. The military man's hair is shaved so close to his scalp that the fuzzy grey bristles appear almost white against his sun-reddened skin. He's fairly tall, around 6'2" and despite the fact that he's obviously in his late fifties or early sixties, he still looks as though he could run ten miles and then wrestle a gorilla afterward. Ethan notes the two stars on the man's massive shoulders and realizes that whoever the General is, he's obviously a man of some influence. "Funding for the project was cut back in '99 and we've only managed to keep it afloat through back-channels and some generous sponsorship from the private sector. The whole thing's illegal as hell and all it would take is one clusterfuck to open his mouth to the wrong person on The Hill and the entire operation is in the shitter. That's the reason we've been doing most of the actual development in Canada." He glances up and sees Ethan and the General's eyes narrow suspiciously. Carson looks over as well and greets Ethan with a smile.

"Rayne, good of you to join us," Carson says magnanimously and nods to the officer. "General Nathan Wickwire, this is Ethan Rayne. Rayne here is our resident expert on the Watcher's Council and the Slayer legacy. He's managing all the intelligence we have on what the Council is up to." Wickwire's suspicious look doesn't leave his expression but he nods cordially and Ethan walks over to the conference table. He glances down at the spreadsheet and then at the mass of files before giving Carson a questioning look.

"That's very kind of you to say," Ethan tells Davies sycophantically. "What service may I be to you gentlemen?"

"We have a problem Rayne." Carson tells him, abruptly changing from a welcoming tone to one that's all business. "It looks like your friend Rupert Giles has cottoned on to some of what we have planned. He's called in all of his most experienced people to London including Buffy Summers. What can you tell us about her?"

"Miss Summers?" Ethan purses his lips thoughtfully and feels bitter anger rise in his chest. It was the Summers brat and her commando boyfriend along with Ripper who'd landed him in that cesspool in Nevada. "Vampire Slayer for oh, 9 years or so. Very successful at it too. She lived on a Hellmouth since she was 16 and has beaten everything that came her way. She has several friends that help her, a witch named Willow Rosenberg, two vampires, both of whom have souls, a carpenter and some other rag tags. Has a younger sister named Dawn …" He gives Carson a puzzled look. "Certainly you know all this Carson? What do you need me for?"

"I was hoping that you could help fill in our friend the General. He seems a bit skeptical as to the girl's powers." Carson manages to not roll his eyes when saying the last part.

Wickwire on the other hand just snorts. "Sounds like a lot of hooey to me. My cyborgs are killing machines. Vampire strength and speed, no emotions to cloud their judgment and combat training that make the SEALS look like choirboys. How is some slip of a girl supposed to stand up to that?"

"Have you heard of a branch of the military called The Initiative General?" Ethan asks him politely. Wickwire frowns and gives Ethan a hard look.

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. What's it to you?"

"Then you needn't take our word for it," Ethan smiles patiently at the scowling General and tosses him a cell phone. "Call whoever you know that was involved with the Initiative and ask them what they know about the Slayer. I would suggest asking Commander Riley Finn but as he and the Slayer are, or at least were, fairly close, I'd suggest asking someone else just in case he gets suspicious."

The General weighs the phone in his palm, his eyes looking shrewdly at Ethan and then tosses it back to the Englishman. "Why don't you just tell me?"

Ethan nods politely and then takes a seat at the table and waits for Wickwire to sit as well before continuing. "General, the Slayer, or as we should say now since there are a great many of them, a Slayer, is a girl imbued with greater strength and speed then a vampire, with the same healing abilities and tolerance for injury. For example, a Slayer could quite easily fall from a tenth floor balcony onto cement, and then get up and walk away. She wouldn't feel too great, but she'd be no more hurt then you or I if we fell from a tenth of the height. Her co-ordination, balance and fighting skills are equally enhanced and with the proper training are utterly terrifying. The longer they stay alive, generally, the stronger and more skilled they become. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now back when there was only one, most Slayers generally had a fairly short life expectancy. Demon fighting isn't conducive to a long life span after all. Miss Summers is currently the longest lived Slayer in over 600 years. I think the record was about twelve years back in the 1400's and that particular Slayer only survived so long because she quit and went into hiding. Miss Summers did no such thing. There's another one named Faith that has been around six years or so now. She came over to our side for a while but unfortunately seems to have rediscovered her "mission" so to speak."

Wickwire looks as though he wants to say something but Ethan holds up a hand smiling. "I know what you're going to say General. How could there be another Slayer six years ago? Well Miss Summers actually died once for a few minutes but was brought back after drowning, hence the second Slayer."

"So how many of these do the Council have?" Wickwire is frowning, suddenly seeming a lot less sure of his cyborg army.

Ethan shrugs. "No one knows for certain. The Council have tracked down several hundred in the past year but there are still probably hundreds, possibly thousands more of them out there that are as yet undiscovered. One of the projects Mr. Davies here has me working on is locating Slayers that may be, oh shall we say, not as inclined to heroism."

"You mean rogues?" Wickwire smiles slightly at that. "Makes sense I guess. Human nature says that not all of them would be ready to join the Council and would rather use their new skills for more selfish purposes."

"Exactly," Ethan grimaces however. "Unfortunately, it hasn't gone as well as planned. The ones we did find, we have killed in Mr. Davies and his group's attempts to create super vampires. Most of the girls would rather not die oddly enough."

Davies glares at Ethan and pounds his fist on the desk. "That's enough of that Rayne. Your job is to find them. What we do with them after is our business."

"Very true Carson," Ethan nods apologetically to the other man. "But it doesn't change the fact that out of all the girls we've tried it with, not one of them have been stable enough to be of any real strategic use."

"Stable?" Wickwire frowns and reaches into his breast pocket for a cigar. He bites off the end and lights it with a Marine Corps Zippo. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well vampires as a rule are pretty nasty customers General. At least the ones that are halfway capable are. Many demons are a lot more trustworthy than vampires as they aren't necessarily predators and are much more equitable when dealing with humans. Vampires on the other hand are first and foremost killers. The ferocity of the demon that enters them is somewhat related to the strength of the human host they take over. It's one of the reasons that most vampires choose to sire young people in their late teens or twenties, and when a human as powerful as a Vampire Slayer is turned, well let's just say they have a penchant for malevolence that would make Hitler blush."

The General chews on his cigar thoughtfully, his eyes still taking in Ethan shrewdly. "So what would you suggest Rayne?"

"General, I quite think," Davies stands up, red-faced and furious but Wickwire silences him with a wave of his hand.

"You'll get your innings Davies. But first I'd like to hear Rayne's thoughts on this. You said he's your expert on Slayers didn't you?"

"Well yes," Carson stammers but Wickwire fixes him with a cold stare and suddenly Ethan realizes that Carson is this man's subordinate and not the other way around. Was the military controlling this?No, probably not, but this Wickwire seems to hold cards that Davies doesn't. Interesting. Carson takes his seat numbly though he's obviously still seething at Ethan's suggestion that his actions to create Slayer Vampires were foolish. Ethan himself begins to wonder if this is the opportunity he'd been waiting for. He has a couple of trump cards of his own that Carson was not yet privy to.

"Well, General," Ethan continues smoothly, ignoring Carson's near apoplectic appearance at the head of the table. "Carson had a good idea at one point. He had wanted to use a souled vampire to turn the Slayers we caught. The theory was that if a vampire with a soul was to sire someone, the vampire would be a lot more manageable."

"Like that fella Angel we sent some of my cyborgs after last year?" Wickwire enquires, tapping an ash from his cigar and frowning.

"Yes, General," Ethan replies in a matter-of-fact tone. "There are two vampires with souls actually. Angel and another vampire that has been working with him named Spike. Both of them are … well acquainted with Miss Summers." Ethan emphasizes the word acquainted slightly and Wickwire coughs hard on his cigar, chuffing out smoke.

"You mean she was fucking two vampires?"

"Not concurrently I believe," Ethan says helpfully. "But yes, my information is that she had …relations with them both. It's all pretty irrelevant though. My sources say that both of them are on their way to London right now actually and will be assisting the Council."

"Assisting them in what?" Wickwire asks.

"In entering the Al Hatari Bustan I should think," Ethan drops this bombshell in a quiet and reasoned voice.

"What?" Davies comes out of his chair again and looks at Ethan, his features agog with shock and anger. "They're going where?"

"Carson, please try to calm down," Ethan says gently. He takes a pitcher of ice water from the table and pours a glass and sets it in front of Davies. "Sit down and have a drink." Davies returns to his seat dumbly and ignores the water, staring at Ethan with a mixture of fear and outrage. "We know that they sent Mr. Harris to Africa to find it and our sources told us about his 'encounter' there for want of a better term. Despite the damage done to it last year, the Council still has one of the finest repositories of demon lore and experts in the world. You can't expect them not to have figured it out by now. 'This is a place of the dead. We do not suffer the living to come here.'" Ethan repeats calmly."Not exactly rocket science to figure that one out. They are both friends of the Slayer and they have now both run off to London when we know the Council is having a massive meeting about Mr. Harris' discovery. What other reason could there be?"

"Jesus Christ Rayne, when were you planning on telling me this?" Carson's rage is starting to become overrun with panic. "We have to make calls, let the other members know what is going on! There's no time to waste and something this important needs to be-"

Wickwire grabs Davies' wrist and Carson turns to look at him with a puzzled

expression. "Carson, sit," Wickwire tells him firmly. "When did they get to London Rayne?"

"Not there yet according to my information," Ethan tells him, stifling a grin. Carson couldn't be screwing up better if Ethan had planned it. Well, Ethan tells himself truthfully. I sort of did. "They should arrive early morning London time." He checks his watch. "About 2 hours from now."

"So time is on our side right now," Wickwire takes a thoughtful puff of his cigar and then smiles and slaps Ethan on the shoulder. "You're a piece of work aren't you Rayne? Good job. We can head this off fairly easily now that we know what the Council's plans are. It's only a pair of vampires after all and it will be at a couple of days before they can get them to Butswana. The real question is what to do about all these damn Slayers. You say catchin' them isn't worth it Rayne?"

"I said nothing of the sort General," Wickwire nearly drops his cigar and gives Rayne a stunned look. Carson looks on the verge of an aneurism.

"What's that? I thought you said that vampin' them was a waste of time?"

"Well, yes and no General. I said it served no strategic purpose. Turning and unleashing one of them at the proper time and place however could serve many tactical purposes and I certainly suggest we keep that in mind. However, my understanding is that your cyborg project is extremely expensive and I can probably surmise that using Mr. Davies' volunteers is less desirable then using, oh trained soldiers say."

"Damn straight," Wickwire growls. "I'd wanted to use some of the boys from Bragg. Delta Force or Rangers, but the panty waists at the OSRD and the Pentagon wouldn't allow it and-" suddenly the General stops talking and a broad light of understanding fills his eyes. His face is pale but then splits into a huge toothy grin making him look rather like a deranged lawn mower. "Rayne, that's a bloody brilliant idea. Why the hell didn't I think of that?"

"Well you doubted the actual strength of the Slayers General until now. One can hardly fault you for not thinking of utilizing them," Ethan says generously. He prays inwardly for the General to ask the question and is rewarded almost instantly.

"So when do you think I could lay hands on some of these Slayers Rayne?"

Ethan grins and drops his bomb. "I have three ready right now General." The silence that greets this statement is palpable.

13

Cleveland, Ohio - May 12th

Taryn hadn't been disappointed by Angela's reaction to the news that she was in charge while Faith and Robin went to England. Apparently Robin had broken the news to her earlier and when Taryn arrived at the older Slayer's apartment later, Angela had been is a state of barely controlled fury. She'd answered the door and upon seeing Taryn at the door, had looked as though she wanted to slam it right back in the younger woman's face. Taryn just grinned and walked in, not bothering to take off her shoes. Angela shut the door and looked at the taller girl grimly. Taryn pretended not to notice. "Robin told you the score?" she had asked artfully.

Angela had just nodded, still not trusting herself to speak. Taryn merely waited a moment, holding the other girl's gaze steadily. Finally Angela looked away and Taryn asked quietly, "Is there going to be a problem?"

Angela said nothing and went out to the spartan kitchen. All it had was a stove, fridge, sink and cupboards. She got a glass out of the cupboard by the sink and filled it at the sink. She leaned against the cupboard and took a sip, still not looking at Taryn.

"Look Angela," Taryn said in the same quiet voice. "I didn't ask for it. They told me after they told you. But it doesn't change the fact that for the next few days I'm the boss. If you can't deal with that, I need to know right now." Taryn held her ground, wondering if Angela might hit her.

"Yeah," Angela said in a defeated voice, the anger seeming to seep out of her limbs to be replaced by surrender. "I know you didn't. Robin explained it to me and made it pretty clear." She finally looked up at Taryn and gave her a sour look. "You're Faith's favorite. Me and Kara both know that. You're both from Boston, you both like the same music, same taste in clothes, blah blah blah. Faith and Robin know you better and trust you. I get it."

"You get it do you?" Taryn felt as though someone had just kicked her in the chest. "You get that I'm the favorite?" She took an angry step forward and Angela hastily took a step back, slopping water all over the legs of her jeans as her ass bumped into the counter. "You think they chose me because I'm Faith's fucking lap dog or something?"

"Look Taryn, I'm not mad at you okay?" Angela poured the remaining water in her glass into the sink and pushed her hair back out of her eyes. "You and Faith are friends and she knows you better and trusts you. Why wouldn't she pick you?"

Taryn resisted the urge to leap across the kitchen and smash her fist into Angela's face only because she knew what Robin and Faith would say if she did. Leaders need a thick skin. Sometimes obedience has to be enough when approval isn't gonna happen. "Fine," Taryn almost spits out. She blows out a deep breath and tries to keep her voice steady. "I want you on patrol tonight. Kara is taking Cuyahoga Heights and I want you out by The Angle. I'll take Forest Hill. Take you cell phone." Taryn had risen and walked out at that point, still shaking with barely controlled rage. "You're Faith's favorite". The words echoed in her ears all the way to Kara's. She passed on the same message to the other Slayer, who in her defense had seemed generally pleased for Taryn that she had gotten the responsibility.

Now it was four days later and Angela's words still rankled slightly. Was that it? She asked herself, still lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Was the only reason she'd been left in charge was because like Angela said, she knew Faith and Robin better? Taryn knew she was a good Slayer. Even Buffy had said so according to Faith. So why was she letting Angela's sour grapes piss her off so badly? She was also house-sitting at Robin and Faith's while they were gone and had found out early that the fridge contained nothing but some elderly left-over Chinese food that looked like it could get up and walk away itself and bottled water. She decides to get up and go out for breakfast and proceeds to the shower, turning up the hot water as far as she could stand it before stepping under the scalding stream. She wet her long hair and let the hot water pound on the back of her neck for a moment before reaching for the soap. Fifteen minutes later she was toweling off and then wiped the steam from the mirror so she could brush her teeth. She stared at her reflection a moment, scowling slightly and then proceeded to load her toothbrush. Another fifteen minutes and she had dressed, put her still damp hair in a pony tail and was heading for the door when a knock had almost caused her to drop her purse. She went to the door and checked the spy hole. A man in his late forties was outside. He had dark brown hair that was graying at the temples and a long face with strong cheekbones. He was wearing a dark gray suit and a white shirt with a striped tie. She stepped away from the door slightly puzzled. The guy looked like a lawyer or something. She engaged the security chain and opened the door a crack. The man smiled broadly and made a neat bow. "Taryn Murphy I presume?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Taryn lets slip, taken completely off guard. Who knew she was here? Well Faith and Robin of course, and Angela and Kara both knew. Taryn had not missed the knowing look on Angela's face when she'd informed them she'd be house sitting while Robin and Faith were gone.

"Ethan Rayne, Miss Murphy," the man's British accent was impossible to miss. "Mr. Giles thought it best I should come while your Watcher and Miss Lehane are away."

"Mr. Giles?" Taryn feels her heart rise and sink all at the same time. The guy was obviously Watcher's Council which meant he wasn't here to serve her with a subpoena, but it was also clear that even if Faith and Robin trusted her, the Head of the Watcher's Council did not. "Just a second," she closes the door and disengages the chain before re-opening the door fully. "No one told me you were coming."

"It's rather hectic in London right now I'm afraid. I just found out myself a couple of hours ago. I was in Toronto on Council business and Mr. Giles called me and asked me to come to Cleveland. Something has come up." He smiles again broadly and nods toward the living room of the apartment. "May I come in and we'll discuss it?"

Taryn almost says okay but catches herself. She eyes the man suspiciously. "Looking for an invitation?" she asks him in a now harsh tone.

Ethan just laughs however and takes out a small crucifix from his coat pocket. He presses it hard into the flesh of his cheek for a moment and then takes it away. Taryn can see a small white impression of the cross on the man's ruddy cheek which fades quickly as the blood rushes back. Taryn grins at him sheepishly and holds the door open and Ethan steps inside, fastidiously wiping his shoes on the mat. He carries a small valise in his left hand and Taryn leads him into the living room and takes a seat on the couch. Ethan takes a seat across from her in a threadbare chair and sets the valise on the coffee table between them. He opens the catches and extracts several sheets and photographs from it and sets them down for Taryn to examine.

"The reason I'm here Miss Murphy is because something has come up. What do you know about the Hellmouth?" Ethan sits back in the chair and eyes her appraisingly. His smile is still there but there's something about the man's eyes that Taryn doesn't like. They are dark like her own, but seem to glimmer with suppressed mirth.

Taryn masters her disquiet and shrugs. "Gateway to evil from what I know. Monster magnet and general all around pain in the ass."

"A reasonable if somewhat concise description," Ethan replies, still smiling. He taps one of the photos and Taryn sees what looks like several hooded figures entering a building taken with a telephoto lens. There are several more pictures that reveal the faces of the hooded figures as vampires. "These are the Order of Rhamnusia. They worship the Greek Goddess Rhamnusia, or Nemesis as she is often known as. Our information is that they plan to open the Hellmouth tonight." Ethan hands Taryn a sheet of paper with an address on it. "Do you know where this is?"

Taryn scans the address, her doubts about Rayne suddenly forgotten as the scope of what he had just told her sinks in. A vampire order trying to open the Hellmouth? Taryn grins despite herself. Faith will be pissed she missed this, she thinks. She hands the sheet back to Ethan and nods. "Yeah, its near the stadium." Something bothers her though. "But that's nowhere near the Hellmouth. Why would they be there?"

"Because my dear, we aren't going to wait for nightfall and their arrival at the Hellmouth. We're going to hit them in daylight," Ethan says with a somewhat exasperated tone, though he continues smiling.

"Oh, right," Taryn feels fairly stupid and nods. "Sure, makes sense. You want me to gather the troops?"

"That's the idea," Ethan nods. "I think the sooner we get there the better."

"Right," Taryn picks up the cordless phone and calls Kara and Angela while Ethan sits quietly in his chair, still smiling. As Taryn hangs up the phone she again feels a prickle of distrust on the back of her neck. "You know, maybe I should call Mr. Giles and just confirm all this. No offence Mr. Rayne, but I don't know who you are."

"By all means," Rayne replies tiredly and rubs his eyes. "And tell Rupert to stop calling me at 5 am when I already have jet lag," he grimaces comically at the Slayer and then gathers the photos and papers and begins tucking them into the valise. "The others are meeting us here?"

"At the coffee shop down the street actually," Taryn replies and picks up the cordless phone again. Suddenly she's feeling very foolish. First the stupid comment about the address not being at the Hellmouth and now she's going to call the Head of the Council of Watchers to double check a guy whose obviously been with the Council for years? Hadn't she heard the name Ethan Rayne before? She tries to remember and it seems as though Faith had mentioned the name once, but she couldn't recall the context. Something about Giles' drinking buddy? Faith had been laughing when she made the comment to Buffy during the other Slayer's visit. Shit, she was about to call Rupert Giles to check the legitimacy of his best friend. She sets the phone down purposefully and smiles at Ethan. "On second thought, it's probably best if we get there soon. I'd like to grab something before the others get there."

Ethan lets go of the Taser he'd been reaching for in the valise, prepared to stun the girl if she actually placed the call. He smiles again and allows Taryn to lead him into the hallway.

Two hours later the four of them pull up to a small warehouse near Brown's Stadium. Angela had looked pleased that Ethan had shown up, seeming to Taryn as though she'd been vindicated in Taryn having been chosen over her. Taryn chooses to ignore it and checks her bag to make sure she has everything she needs. Several stakes, a small crossbow, some crosses, two road flares and a vial of holy water. "How many of them do you figure we're going to run into Mr. Rayne?" Kara asks nervously, checking her own bag.

"Perhaps as many as a dozen," Ethan replies quietly. Both Taryn and Angela look up at that.

"A dozen?" Taryn asks a bit nervously. "Isn't that sort of long odds Mr. Rayne?"

"Not really," Ethan replies. He glances over his shoulder at her in the back seat. "Most of them should be sleeping. It's just after noon. If we go in fast, we should be able to get half of them before they even wake up." He glances over at Angela in the driver's seat. "Are you ready dear?"

"Sure," Angela shoots Taryn a nasty look and the four of them get out of the car. They cross the broad sunny street quietly, noting that the windows of the warehouse are boarded up. "Looks like they won't see us coming," Angela says smugly to Ethan. "Good job Mr. Rayne. It's nice to have a real leader here."

Taryn stiffens but bites her tongue. Something about this is triggering alarms in her head. She touches Kara on the shoulder as Angela and Ethan peer around the corner of the building. "Kara, did you bring your phone?"

"Yeah sure," Kara reaches into her bag and hands Taryn the cell phone. She gives the other Slayer a puzzled look. "Something wrong Taryn?"

"I don't think so," Taryn replies in a whisper. Ethan and Angela round the corner of the building and disappear. "I'll catch up in a sec Kara." The other Slayer nods and follows the others. Taryn checks Kara's speed dial and frowns when she sees the Council's number isn't in there. She punches in Faith's number from memory and the voice mail picks up automatically. She must be in a meeting and has it off, Taryn thinks to herself. In reality Faith's phone is still on the bedside table of her and Robin's bedroom underneath a t-shirt, its battery having died earlier that day. She leaves a quick message and then hustles around the corner to find the others at the end of a narrow alley, looking back in mild annoyance. "Sorry," Taryn whispers sheepishly and they move to the back of the building. Again the windows are boarded up and the heavy iron door has a large lock on it.

Ethan examines the lock and grimaces. "Probably locked from the inside too. I'd prefer not to kick the door in if possible. No sense alerting them too quickly."

"Why don't we just burn the fucker down?" Taryn asks, her voice slightly hoarse. She's still nervous and can't explain it.

"There might be sewer access," Ethan shakes his head. "We can't risk even one of them escaping. If they succeed in opening the Hellmouth," Ethan gives an elegant shudder. "Well, let's not ponder that shall we?"

"What's this?" Kara is pulling at some shrubs at the side of the building and a pair of cellar doors are revealed as she pulls away the tangled foliage.

"Excellent," Ethan says quietly and pats Kara on the back. There is an old padlock and a chain lashing the door handles closed and Kara takes the lock in her hand and yanks down hard. It breaks easily and she and Ethan unwind the chain as quietly as they can. Ethan then takes one of the doors handles and pulls gently. It opens into the darkness below. He takes out a crossbow and motions for the girls to follow. "Stay close to the sides of the stairs," he says in a whisper as they descend after him. "Less chance of them squeaking and giving us away."

The four of them descend into the cellar and Taryn just manages to stifle a sneeze in the dusty air. The cellar is full of useless junk and broken crates. On the far wall is another flight of steps leading up to a closed metal door. "Just our luck if the bloody thing is locked," Ethan mutters. He moves forward but Angela grabs his arm and shakes her head smiling.

"Not this time Mr. Rayne. If there's a nest up there, it's better if the Slayers go first. Why don't you hang back and guard the rear? The Council would be pretty pissed if we went and got one of its top Watchers killed."

"Quite right Angela," Ethan gives her a smile. "Common sense takes precedence before manners I suppose."

Angela nods and a catches Taryn's eye as she heads to the stairs. Angela is obviously taking great pleasure in the fact that Taryn is no longer in charge. Angela ascends the steps to the other door and Kara and Taryn follow close behind. Angela tries the door knob and it turns easily in her grip. She then listens at the door and finally turns and nods at the others. Taryn and Kara both take out their crossbows and each stuff a stake in their belt. Angela opens the door noiselessly and steps through, glancing left and right. She moves to the side and Taryn follows, noticing how heavy the metal door is and the fact that it is open. The alarm bells are going off a lot louder now and she almost stops before passing through the doorway.

"What's wrong?" Kara whispers from behind her.

"Nothing," Taryn shakes it off and heads through into the warehouse. With the windows boarded up the place is almost pitch black. Perfect for vamps, she thinks ruefully. Rayne's right. This has to be the place. She senses more than sees Angela ahead of her and wills her Slayer hearing to try and locate any other movement. This is crazy, she thinks. Vamps can see in the dark and they don't breathe so we can't even hear that. We'll trip over one at this rate and set the whole gang of them on us. Throwing caution to the wind she reaches into her bag and her hand closes over one of the two flares that she keeps in it. She roots around some more as quietly as she can and finds the second one. In one swift move she sets off the first flare and then tosses it across the room before striking the second one. The sudden burst of light blinds her for a second and she can hear both Angela and Kara gasp in sudden surprise. She blinks twice and looks around, crossbow held out and ready to shoot the first vamp she sees.

The warehouse is empty. Utterly deserted. The flickering light of the flares blisters on the barren cinderblock walls and nothing else. "Well shit," Taryn lowers her crossbow and spits. "Talk about a letdown."

Angela is Taryn's face suddenly, her face a mask of rage and terror. "What the fuck was that?" She nearly screams at her. "Are you trying to get us killed?"

"Back up Angela," Taryn says warningly. "And for god's sake, invest in some Binaca." The dark-haired Slayer gestures around the room. "Vamps can see in the dark asshole and they don't breathe to give themselves away. How the fuck were you planning on finding them? Anyhow, there's obviously no vamps here so I just saved us about forty-five minutes of terrified blind-mans bluff. Let's tell Ethan and get out of here. We can stake out the Hellmouth and catch the baddies there." She turns and heads back to the door to see it closed. She frowns when she notices that there is no handle on the inside. She looks around at the other doors. All of them are missing handles too. Taryn then whirls as she hears the sound of a dead-bold clicking and realizes too late what's happened.

"Try the windows, the doors, anything!" She shouts at the others as she hurls herself toward the nearest window. Its protected with iron bars sunk into the concrete and heavy iron roll-down shutters that are apparently fastened from the outside. The other two Slayers just gape at her and Taryn screams at the two of them just as two heavy canisters fall from the ceiling, filling the room with a misty white gas. "It's a trap!" She shouts again but suddenly she's starting to feel very light headed. The world seems to be getting extremely foggy all of a sudden and she feels her knees buckle. She can hear Kara crying somewhere to her left but it sounds like she's a great distance away. The room spins crazily and soon there is nothing but darkness.

14

Toronto, Canada – May 18th, 2004

"Three?" Wickwire says in almost a whisper. "You have them? Now?"

"Yes sir," Ethan smiles and picks up his cell phone. "They're currently all under heavy sedation at a private clinic in Cleveland." He places the call. "Tanner? Rayne here. Are the subjects still safe?" He pauses listening. "Excellent. Some guests and myself will be arriving later to retrieve them. Can you make sure they are ready for travel? Some heavy restraints too please Tanner. I shouldn't want them mobile if they wake up testy." He kills the call and smiles at the General and Davies. "They are at your disposal General."

Davies is barely coherent in his fury. "Rayne, this is preposterous!" He's shouting, a large vein in his temple throbbing as he does so. "I cannot believe that you went behind my back on this! How dare you do something like this without informing me?"

"Easy Carson," Wickwire says calmly, eyeing Ethan with something almost akin to respect. "Your man here has done well and from what I gather, if he'd told you about it, they'd all be dead instead of alive and useful."

"With all due respect Nathan, you are not a member of The Left Hand Path," Davies replies in a cold fury. "Rayne here has deliberately disobeyed orders and as a military man I'm sure you understand the importance of that!"

"I do indeed Carson," Wickwire says, stubbing out his cigar. "I also, as a military man, understand when a man doesn't follow an order that is patently ridiculous. Mr. Rayne here exercised his judgment and no harm done. As a matter of fact, he did me and you folks in The Path a favor keeping you out of it." Wickwire surveys Carson coldly and Ethan feels the beginning of elation start to creep up his spine. He'd gambled and it had paid off. Whoever this Wickwire was, he obviously had the clout to put Davies in his place. "I think I'll take Mr. Rayne here and head down to Cleveland to take a look at these Slayers. Mr. Rayne," he turns and gives Ethan a broad smile. "If these Slayer gals are anything like you make them out to be, I think you just made me a very happy man."

"But General," Carson pleads, his anger now turning to fear as he starts to realize what Ethan had just pulled on him. "The man is a rogue. He doesn't follow orders, keeps things from his superiors and makes decisions without consulting others. Are you really prepared to trust him?"

"Good question Carson," Wickwire ponders this for a moment. He unholsters his sidearm and tosses it to Ethan. "Mr. Rayne, shoot Mr. Davies please."

Ethan raises the weapon and points it at Davies who screams and then squeezes the trigger instantly. Nothing happens. The safety is on. Wickwire laughs. "He has no problem following my orders Carson." He takes the .45 back from Ethan and then looks back at Davies. He shakes his head in disgust. He clicks off the safety and tosses the weapon back to Ethan. Ethan raises the weapon and blows Carson's head apart in a shower of messy brains and blood. Wickwire grins and takes the gun back from Ethan before holstering it. "Mr. Rayne, I doubt Machiavelli was an Englishman with brown hair, but he should have been."

TBC