Chapter 13.

BEL AIR, CALIFORNIA

SEPT. 25, 1999

(2:39 P. M./PST)

"What do you think, now?" said Andrew, as they flew through the air.

"The same thing I thought before," replied Jonathan: "Only, now, we're wearing lame rocket packs, too!"

When Andrew Wells and Warren Mears had first shown him the lobster-red suits of robotic armor, they had confessed to being inspired by an old TV-movie entitled "Exo-Man." To which Jonathan Levinson had responded that they looked more like the hybrid offspring of a "Star Wars" Imperial Guardsman...and a UFO-naut from "Earth vs. The Flying Saucers!"

Yet, it was his current amendment to that negative evaluation that proved too much for Andrew.

"Lame?!" he echoed: "I'll have you know that, if they ever make a movie about Iron Man, I'm going to submit these designs, to the winning studio, as the look they should adapt for the Crimson Dynamo!"

"Oh, get real!" exclaimed Jonathan: "Nobody, in their right mind, will ever make a movie about Iron Man. I mean, who would they cast as Tony Stark? That dork who played the Rocketeer; Bruce Campbell?"

"You mean, Billy Campbell," Andrew gloatingly corrected him: "Bruce Campbell is the dork who stars in those 'Evil Dead' movies!"

"Billy/Bruce/Whatever!" Jonathan shouted back: "My point is this; the first one is too young. And, the second one's getting too fat!"

"Will you two idiots shut the frig up?!" snapped Warren: "We're beginning final approach to our target."

Spike (who had been listening in on all this, via an old CB radio receiver) shook his head in exasperation.

"You must've had some lingerin' traces of brain cancer to vampirize these three."

Billy Fordham shrugged: "I couldn't find any other survivors of Graduation Day smart enough to help me plan your break-out. But still stupid enough to manipulate!"

Spike now sighed: "Well, at least they finally out-lived their usefulness."

Meanwhile, the three techno-vamps had split up.

Warren crashed through the roof of the multi-car garage, his rocket pack immediately receding into the cubby hole built into the spine of the exo-skeleton. He then looked at all the fancy-schmancy Cadillacs and sports coupes lined up before him. . .and smiled.

"Deploy limpet grenades," he muttered into his helmet's built-in microphone.

"De-ploy-ing," replied a synthetic female voice.

Sure enough; the saucer-shaped devices that had been encircling his metallic waist suddenly changed their magnetic polarity. As a result of which, they immediately went flying towards the automobiles before him. One right after another. Following which, he easily crashed through the garage door just behind him. Clanking towards the main house like a Cyberman from the Fifth Doctor Who era!

Nobody spotted him until the first of the explosions went off. As anticipated, the front lawn was soon filled with armed Brujah guards, wearing designer black hoodies and sunblock. And, when their apparent leader failed to get Warren to stop on demand, the former swiftly gave the order to open fire. The first wave of bullets causing Warren to stagger backward a bit.

But, otherwise, the magically-tempered armor was holding up quite well! Whereupon, Warren muttered the next command.

"Deploy flying guillotine."

No sooner had the on-board computer acknowledged than two rectangular hatches opened on his exo-skeleton's left forearm. Emerging from the space beneath came a buzzsaw blade! Built to fold up like a butterfly's wings. And, when it had finished unfolding, it started twirling about at high speed. . .before catapulting towards the armed vampires before him.

As anticipated, the guards swiftly ducked beneath its flight path. Which is precisely when Warren deployed the horseshoe magnet in his exo-skeleton's right forearm! And, with his left hand bracing his right arm's aim, he guided the buzzsaw blade back towards the unsuspecting Brujah.

Their over-confident laughter ceasing only when the flying guillotine beheaded their security chief. And, the other Brujah were so initially stunned by this that they did not notice the identically-armored Andrew landing behind them until it was too late.

"Deploy flamethrower," muttered the towheaded youngster.

Whereupon, something resembling the natural gas dispenser of a laboratory Bunsen burner emerged from his exo-skeleton's left forearm arm. While a TASER-like electrode emerged from a similar compartment on the right arm. A spark from the latter instantly igniting the invisible gas jet of the former. . .and sending a stream of incendiary death at the vampires lined up before him.

Making the ones who got decapitated by the flying guillotine, thereafter, were the lucky ones.

* * * * *

RUSSELL WINTERS' PRIVATE STUDY
(FIVE MINUTES EARLIER)

"OK; thanks."

Prince Cyrus hung up his cellphone.

"That was my police contact. Harcourt is still alive! Discourtesy. . .of the Slayer."

"That Newcomer broad with the ninja fetish?!" exclaimed Winters: "I thought Sunnydale was her stomping ground."

"Evidently, she's on a working vacation," the Brujah prince sneered as he sat back down.

"Well, even Assamites aren't infallible. But, the Order of Teraka, as a whole? Guaranteed results. . .through attrition."

Cyrus pounded his left fist on the corresponding arm of his chair in frustration.

"I would've had the result I want, already, if the one who knocked off Reyes had gone straight for Harcourt, instead!"

Winters shrugged (as respectfully as he could).

"Every Terakan has their own methodology. Another reason for their success rate."

As if to contradict that statement, there was a thunderous explosion from outside.

Both vampires ran to the French doors of the balcony just to the left of Winters' desk.

"That came from the carport," Winters declared.

"And, so did that!" replied Cyrus, pointing towards the spacious front lawn.

What appeared to be a lobster-red robot was lumbering its way toward the front door of the mansion. But, even as the two vampires realized this, Cyrus' sunproofed security retinue was already fanning out in a semi-circular formation to intercept it. And, they both grinned when that retinue began to open fire with their Glocks. Those grins swiftly disappeared, however, when they saw that not only were the bullets not having any effect. But, also, that another such robot had just flown down from the sky above the retinue!

Any further viewing was soon interrupted. . .by the arrival of a third robot just outside the French doors.

* * * * *

Jonathan grinned as he took full advantage of their startlement.

"Deploy katars."

Immediately, two triangular short swords (one on each exo-skeletal forearm) sprang up and frontward like switchblades. He then used his rocket pack to surge forward through the French doors. . .running the blades through each vampire's chest! Neither katar had cleaved through any vital organs, though. They merely impaled Cyrus and Winters to the rear wall of the study.

"Release magnetic clamps."

Immediately, his gauntlets dropped down from the crossbar grips resembling the inner handle of a car door. Whereupon, Jonathan clenched those gauntlets into fists.

"Say 'good-day,' guys. I'm gonna torpedo these through your heads like a hot knife through butter."

"Sorry," replied a female voice: "That's my schtick."

"What the. . .?"

Jonathan began to turn his head, and look behind him. Only for a six foot-long radula to penetrate the tinted glass face plate of the exo-skeleton's helmet. . .like a hot knife through butter. And, a minute later, his unarmored body went flying out into the daylight!

Making him look like a Fourth of July skyrocket just after take-off.

tbc

Postscript:

As I'll explain in chapter 14, Angel was still trapped in their force field at the time Doyle would have had any precognitive vision of this attempt. So, by the time he was released, he wouldn't have been able to run through the sewers fast enough to get to Bel Air in the nick of time.

Not without being a San Francisco celerity demon, anyway!