Chapter 18

By Carycomic

KING O' CLUBS

BEVERLY HILLS, CAL.

SEPT. 26, 1999

(12:35 A. M./PST)

The paralysis of initial amazement lasted only about fifteen seconds in real time. Though, it doubtless felt a lot longer. The four on-lookers snapped out of it, however, when one of the Latino bodyguards drew his handgun while shouting, "Guillermo El Sangriento!"

"Oh, bloody hell!" exclaimed Spike.

The Ratkin Abomination took advantage of this distraction in order to transform into her other self. More specifically; the "bug-eyed overgrown Oscar statue" that Angel had chased into the sewers back at the hotel. Whereupon, it immediately sprang upward toward the ceiling of the dressing room before ricocheting downward, from there, at the two Latinos, piercing the right eye of the nearer one with its radula!

In consequence of this, the deceased instantly disintegrated into a pile of ash.

The other vampire immediately tried to avenge his amigo's Final Death by firing a point-blank shot into the skull of the creature. Yet, once again, its otherworldly agility made it more than a match for any bullets. As the Latino vampire not only missed. But, so did the bullets fired by Sykes and Dobbs! They did not give up, however, in trying to keep this creature in their front gun sights.

Unfortunately, in doing so, they momentarily turned their backs on Spike. Having not been raised by his mother as an idiot, he seized that opportunity to make good his own escape. Which he did by pushing the two police detectives down to the ground, face-first, like an NFL defensive tackle! He then sprang back to his feet and continued his run towards the rear stage door. Seeking to re-enter the sewer system through the same nearby manhole he had emerged from, ten minutes earlier.

He was thwarted, however, by a certain pinching sensation on the back of his neck. A pinching sensation caused by a tranquilizer dart containing a mixture of thorazine. . .and powdered garlic.

"Oh, bollux!" was all he had time to mutter before it became his turn to hit the ground, face-first.

The air pistol that had fired that dart was owned by someone on an awaiting Honda Rebel. Someone wearing a black leather jacket with matching unitard, boots, and tinted face-plated helmet. It was not until Sykes and Dobbs emerged from the alley behind the night club, shouting for him to stop, that the mysterious motorcyclist re-holstered the air pistol and drove off at high speed.

"Frig it!" Sykes cursed. "What is going _on_ in this town?"

"I don't know," said Dobbs. "But, you better go check on that brunette while I call this in."

Sykes nodded and ran back towards the night club. Dobbs then whipped out his cellphone and contacted the emergency dispatchers at LAPD Headquarters. He filled them in, using the appropriate numeric designations, before hanging up. Following which, he made sure Sykes was still out of earshot before speed-dialing another phone number!

"It's me. Get me Prince Cyrus."

SUNNYDALE, CAL.

(SIX HOURS LATER)

Deputy Mayor Rupert Giles was awakened two hours early by a persistent ringing. Groggily, he hit the off switch on his old-fashioned alarm clock. But, when that failed to work, he hurriedly searched about for his glasses. Sure enough; his second hunch had been right. It was the rotary dial ring tone that Maggie had been kind (or should that be "mischievous?") enough to program into his new cellphone.

"Whoever you are, this had better be bloody important," he growled into the phone. "Or, I'm going to take great delight in pretending you are one Ethan Rayne!"

"What's the matter, Giles? Someone-not-the-mayor been keeping you up nights?"

The expatriate Englishman's mental fog instantly cleared away at the recognition of that female voice.

"Vanessa?! Where the blazes have you been?"

She gave him a summary of her hunt for Spike, and the digression that had occurred with her discovery of the existence of the Ratkin Abomination.

"When the Caitiff called Andrew proved of no help, I put him out of my misery and, then, moved on. That's how I came to stumble across two more bodies! Tell me, Giles, do you know anyone named. . .Wesley Wyndham-Price?"

Giles went positively cold with dread.

"He's a recent addition to the Watchers' Council. Maggie requested them to send someone to Los Angeles to investigate Angel's sighting of just such a creature. Are you saying that. . .?

"Yes, I'm afraid so. I found his wallet in the back pocket of the trousers he was wearing beneath some waders. The passport photo. . .no longer does him justice."

"Good Lord!" muttered the former Watcher. "And the other body?"

"Belongs to a local reporter named Jeff Burns. I had to wait until I was out in the open air to get an area with enough signal strength to call you. If you can have someone from the Initiative come to help me with pick-up of the bodies, I would deeply appreciate it."

"What?" replied Giles (momentarily distracted by wondering what he was going to tell Wesley's father). "Oh, yes. Yes, of course! I shall call the proper people straight away."

"Don't worry, Giles," said the Tenctonese Slayer: "I'll make sure that thing pays for this."

"I thank you for your reassurance. But, all the same, do try to be careful."

Vanessa Helsing laughed. "Don't I always?"

Giles snorted in minor derision. "Which would you prefer? An honest answer. . .or a little white lie?"

FEDERAL BUILDING,

LOS ANGELES, CAL.

(9:03 A. M./PST)

Though vampires do not truly sleep through the daylight hours, the same way humans sleep through the night, severe injuries can compel them to enter a state of torpor. And, for vampires like Angel, extreme boredom could be twice as compelling! It was, consequently, for that latter reason that he ultimately fell asleep in the closet of Herman Cromwell's office at the Bureau of Newcomer Affairs.

Not waking up until he heard three voices outside the closet door.

"Dr. Cromwell?"

"Yes? How might I help you?"

"I am Sergeant George Francisco. This is my colleague, Detective Kate Lockley. We would like to ask you about a Newcomer named Leeloo Songjet. And, we understand you were her case worker during the first few months after the Day of Descent."

Angel carefully opened the closet door and peeked outward with his right eye. By this means, he saw a burly-but-well-dressed male Newcomer; an attractive blue-eyed blonde human female; and a tall-but-not-too-thin human male with thinning brown hair.

"I was the case worker for a lot of Newcomers, back then," replied the latter. "Even you, yourself, might have been one of them! But, do come in, and sit down. I'll just tell my secretary to hold my calls for the next few minutes."

The two detectives nodded in understanding and sat down in the gestured-at chairs. But, the moment they did so, "Dr. Cromwell" gave up all pretense of getting his secretary on the intercom. Morphing, instead, into a vampire!

LANGLEY, VIRGINIA

(NOV. 4, 1996)

"How's your father doing?" asked Roger Benson.

Col. Carter Burgess, Jr. gave a bemused half-grin.

"He'll have to keep his jaws wired shut for the next six months. Oh, he can still bark out his orders via a glorified Speak n' Spell! But, he's going to get awfully cranky after half a year's worth of intravenous health-food smoothies."

"Well, if it's any consolation, I had Dr. Cromwell committed out in the Midwest. As a 'John Doe,' from Madison Avenue, with Messianic delusions of grandeur!"

The colonel laughed.

"The old man will definitely love to hear that! But, what about the BNA? Cromwell's still their public face, you know."

"Don't worry! I know a certain free-lance operative who's a very gifted master of disguise. He's not too fond of the California sun, as a rule. But, I think I can make it worth his while to make us an exception!"

BUREAU OF NEWCOMER AFFAIRS,

LOS ANGELES FEDERAL BUILDING

(ALMOST 3 YEARS LATER)

George and Lockley sprang to their feet.

"Celine and Andarko!" exclaimed the former as they went for their guns.

"Sorry, Slag-head," replied the vampire: "Never heard of them. But, when people address me, they call me. . .Mr. Trick!"

Following which, he lunged at them. Leaping over his desk in a single bound.

tbc

Translation for 'Guillermo El Sangriento' = William The Bloody.