Everything either belongs to Joss or it should, no infringement is intended and no profit is to be made. When you get right down to it I'm not really worth suing anyway unless you want a share of an underpaid civil servants wages and it just wouldn't be worth the hassle trust me.
CHAPTER NINE
Great Northern Forest – Pylea – February 2004
If triggered at the right time a properly laid out ambush is very difficult to escape from. Sometimes the only way to get out alive is to either surrender or launch a counter-attack against one side of the ambush and hope you don't lose all your troops trying to punch a hole in it. On the other hand if an ambush is discovered before it's sprung, or if its triggered too early, then suddenly it's the people doing the ambushing that are in the wrong place because they're positioned for the fight they wanted not the fight they've actually got and if the other side act quickly enough they're now the ones with the tactical initiative.
Douglas Ashton, formally of the French Foreign Legion and before that the Canadian Army, couldn't quote a plethora of famous and/or infamous generals giving advice what to do in these situations, he was short on theory and long on practice, but he knew what to do when the opposition fucked up an ambush, surround the bastards and kick the living shit out of them before they got a chance to redeploy. 'Cover fire' he ordered and depressed the trigger on his carbine assault rifle bringing it around in an arc as he held it tight fighting against the recoil as he emptied it in a series of short bursts designed to keep heads down.
Half the girls did likewise, though without a fraction as much effort involved since they were far stronger than he and had little difficulty controlling their weapons even at fully automatic. Several orders of magnitude more rounds are fired in modern combat than the number of people getting shot, for the most part people are only firing to keep heads down and it is by no means unusual for units to find themselves running out of ammunition after only a few minutes of intense fighting. Back home Ashton would have been a great deal more cautious in ammunition expenditure but back home the troops didn't carry anywhere near as many rounds. Slayers didn't just have the strength to hold a bucking rifle totally steady they could also hump around an absolute shitload of spare magazines without being overburdened and they were.
They could move really fast too, Ashton thought to himself happily as the girls that weren't firing broke cover and sprinted to their next position throwing themselves to the ground on arrival and gradually moving around to envelop the failed ambush, flanking it to left and right. Whoever it was shooting at them they weren't completely inept, they were shooting back plenty and judging from the firing direction they knew the slayers were trying to flank them, and were trying to stop that happening, but they just weren't used to trying to hit a human sized moving target that could run ten miles an hour faster than an Olympic sprinter. One of the girls got clipped in the leg by a round and hit the dirt screaming but the others kept going and once they reached the place they were trying to get to, sometimes treestumps or ground depressions, in one case a low wall and in another a girl threw herself into a stream holding her rifle up to keep it as dry as she could, they immediately started firing themselves as their compatriots who had been giving covering fire had to stop to reload.
'Who got hit?' Ashton asked on his radio headset. He couldn't see from where he was but the screaming was hard to ignore.
'Denise' one of the other girls answered.
The mercenary ejected the empty clip in his G-36K and snapped in another one. 'Denise' he said. 'It only hurts because you're not dead so stop making that fucking noise.'
'I got shot in the leg' the girl screeched back. 'I'm bleeding.'
'Bullet holes will do that to you' Ashton replied evenly. 'At least you didn't get shot in the ass like I did once so you can show the scar to people without getting thrown out of bars' he told her. 'In the Legion we said pain was just weakness leaving the body so just keep down and if it does hurts too much for you to take give yourself a shot of morphine' he told her. Each of them carried a small medikit on their belt which contained a couple of shots of the stuff though they'd been thinking sword injuries not bullet holes.
'Slayers don't scar' one of the other girls pointed out as she reloaded her own rifle. 'We heal really fast too' she added before starting to fire again.
'Okay so you don't get a cool scar but you do get to get stoned out of your head on drugs if you want' Ashton told the wounded slayer who had stopped screaming and was fighting back the pain. If nothing else she was only drawing attention, and therby more bullets towards herself. 'And that is not an invitation to anyone else to get themselves deliberately fucking shot' he told them. 'Janko what's the count?' he asked.
'I count fifteen' the other mercenary replied then the sharp distinct crack of his sniper rifle echoed across the field. 'Make that fourteen' he said.
'Only fourteen of the fuckers?' Ashton retorted. 'Jesus Christ people we'll have them outnumbered in a minute.'
'They're human' Rika's easily identifiable South African accent announced. Like Perković she was looking through a high-powered telescopic sight and had started the fight positioned away from the main body of the group.
'Human?' another girl responded. 'We're not supposed to kill humans.'
'Well they're trying to kill us, it's only fair' Ashton replied evenly and started firing aimed single shots over and over again towards the opposition. Got you now you bastards he thought.
Another sharp crack of a sniper rifle sounded out above the other firing. 'Thirteen' Rika announced without a hint of emotion in her voice despite ending a human life for the first time, he was just another target in the crosshairs.
'That's the spirit' Ashton responded.
'Got to be Wolfram and Hart' one of the slayers said. She had stopped firing when Rika said they were human but started up again as another burst of fire from the enemy kicked up dirt next to her.
'Bastards' another said reloading yet again. 'At least the demons have an excuse for being evil' she opined. 'They killed Bella, we kill them' she declared taking aim.
'If I can get to that well down there I bet I can pitch a grenade from there into that hole a couple of them are in down by the road' one of the girls who'd been pushing around the left flank suggested. 'I can crawl the last fifty yards if I get across the open ground first.'
Ashton stuck his head up for a second to take a look. 'That's a hell of a throw even if you get there' he said dubiously, ducking back down quickly as a bullet shot past him.
'I used to play baseball' the girl replied, 'and I didn't have a hundred-fifty miles an hour fastball back then' she declared. 'I can do it' she said confidently.
The mercenary thought about it. 'Leave everything behind but your rifle, a couple of spare clips and your grenades' he told her, 'and you'd better run your ass off' he added. 'I want cover fire from everyone, and I mean everyone' he continued. 'We clear them out of there and we can pin the next position down and roll over them' the mercenary declared. 'All right let's do this' he said. 'You ready to run?' he asked.
The slayer unclipped her pack and got ready to sprint from her position. 'Covering fire' she called out, then waiting a few seconds for the world to seemingly erupt in gunfire she sprung up from her position and started sprinting across a patch of scrubland then across a ploughed field, head down legs pumping for all they were worth heading towards a ditch by the side of the road, get in there and it was an easy crawl face-down through the mud to the stone well that was there to supply travellers at the crossroads.
Ashton whooped a visceral warcry when she got to where she was going, throwing herself headlong into the ditch, dirty water splashing everywhere as she landed flat in the mud. 'We've got you now you bastards' he howled as she started crawling face down in the dirt, bullets whizzing over the top of the ditch as the enemy tried to get her. 'Okay it's going to get fun soon' he said. 'Once they're on the back-foot we keep up momentum and stomp 'em into the ground' he told the girls, trying to make it all sound simple. It was going to be fast, vicious and excessively violent, and to think they actually paid him to do this job the mercenary considered in mild disbelief at the very notion.
The young slayer was as good as her word and crawling up from the ditch using the stone well to shield her pitched the grenade straight into the concealed bunker further than any normal human could conceivably throw, the explosion proceeded by a shout of panic from the inhabitants before the grenade landing between them blew them apart.
'Okay we have ourselves a goddamn hole' Ashton declared enthusiastically. 'You and you put fire down on the guys shooting from two o'clock' he ordered pointing at the closest two girls to his right. 'You, you and you follow me' he told the one's to his left. 'Left flank keep trying to push around for a better angle everyone else just choose a target and pin it down hard' the mercenary told the slayers. 'You ready for this?' he asked the girls he'd told to follow him, grinning maniacally as he did so.
It was pretty clear they were going to be doing it whether they were or not so the three slayers made sure they had a fresh clip and prepared to follow the Canadian lunatic who was by now clearly enjoying himself, his system awash with adrenaline and endorphins as he psyched himself up.
'I'm going to ask for a transfer back to Earth' one said quietly. 'I miss fighting vampires' she said wistfully to herself as the mercenary started moving, firing short bursts from the shoulder as he went.
Hyperion Hotel – Los Angeles – February 2004
Knox smiled as he handed over his report. 'As you can see by the time and motion study I carried out with the assistance of Andrew the production of one fully enchanted and operational slayer scythe could be easily produced every four to five days if Medousa was willing to cooperate and take out some of the ritual' he claimed. 'As you know it has however taken her over a month to prepare the first of the 2.1 series scythes since the first batch arrived from the manufacturer and she claims it won't be ready for delivery to Molly in London until the end of the week' he added.
'Four to five days?' Buffy queried looking doubtfully at Knox while the Guardian for her part glared daggers at him. They were the only three in the ancient woman's room, or perhaps lair or temple might be a better description given some of the décor.
'Conservative estimate' Knox replied directing a smirk back at Medousa. 'Andrew reached a best case scenario of better than two a week if she completely gave up on the chanting, prayers and meaningless hocus-pocus and just concentrated on the enchantment spells that actually do something' he said. 'Willow has been providing most of the raw power anyway.'
'As I have said before you cannot industrialise magic and ritual' Medousa spoke up. 'It is art not science, prayer not procedure.'
'I'd call that New Age Hippy Crap if she wasn't three thousand or so years old' Knox responded. 'It's still a load of crap though' he declared smugly.
Medousa asked forgiveness from the Goddess in advance then slugged the obnoxious jerk in the mouth. It didn't have a lot of force behind it, she couldn't throw a punch like she could in her youth back in the late Bronze Age, but despite the pain in her hand she noted with satisfaction she'd split his lip before an extremely surprised Buffy could get between them.
'She hit me' Knox protested as Buffy pushed him back. He looked more astonished than vengeful but it was best to separate them.
'You were asking for it but that didn't make it right' Buffy responded. 'I can't believe you did that' she told the Guardian who was looking at her knuckles.
'I can't believe I didn't do that months ago' Medousa replied testing her fingers. Nothing broken but she was sure her knuckles were going to be bruised.
'You're not going to let her get away with that are you?' Knox asked holding a handkerchief from his pocket up to his lip.
'What do you want me to do?' Buffy asked. 'Ground her?' she asked sarcastically.
'The God-King will hear of this' Knox declared and stamped off.
Buffy watched him go, sighed and turned back to the Guardian. 'That was infantile you know' she chided, feeling ridiculous at saying such a thing to someone who remembered the Trojan Wars.
Medousa shrugged. 'I know' she admitted, 'but that man gets on my nerves' she said. 'Aren't I allowed to be crotchety at my age?' she asked wryly. 'I'm not long for this world you know.'
Buffy rolled her eyes. 'You could still outlive my great, great, great grandchildren' she pointed out.
'A century or two might seem a long time to you but my perspectives different' Medousa told her. 'I'm on my last legs' she stated.
The chief-slayer frowned. 'I hate to agree with Knox, on anything as it happens' she said, 'but we do have a lot of uncharged scythes just sitting around in crates waiting for you to do your thing and if you can't do better than a dozen a year we'll be losing girls because they don't have one when they really need it.'
The Guardian nodded. 'I know that' she replied, 'but this isn't just making weapons as far as I'm concerned' she said. 'I didn't mind enchanting swords for you en-masse, but the scythes are different' she told the slayer. 'It's a matter of religion and faith, it's not just meaningless ritual' she declared.
Buffy pursed her lips. 'I don't want to pressure you' she said. 'For one thing I don't want to get punched in the mouth' she joked, 'but could you maybe raise your rate to one every week or so?' she asked. 'Even at that rate it'll take you four years to get the ones we've already had made all finished and that's only one scythe for every ten slayers' she noted.
'One a week?' the Guardian responded with a grimace. 'Maybe if I had some more help' she said.
'What kind of help?' Buffy asked.
'Another witch' the Guardian replied. 'Willow knows of others, she has spoken of them in glowing terms.'
Buffy looked thoughtful. 'There was the Coven that Giles took her to back in England' she said. 'Maybe they'd be willing to help?' she pondered. 'They helped Willow even though she scared the hell out of them and they loaned Giles some of their power before that to try and stop her when she lost her control' she continued. 'We could always ask I suppose, offer a decent salary.'
'Thinking of which if I am supposed to be quadrupling my productivity am I going to get a raise?' Medousa asked.
'I didn't even know we paid you' Buffy replied raising her eyebrows.
'I have expenses and now I'm not stuck in that pyramid I do like to go out and see the world sometimes' Medousa replied. 'Thomas is taking me to a restaurant tonight and I would sooner wish myself in Tartarus than let him pay the bill.'
'Thomas?' Buffy queried then her eyes widened. 'Stirling?' she asked in shock. 'You're going out to eat with Stirling?' she said incredulously. The Guardian and the elderly "Shadow-Man" fought like cats and dogs.
'He is argumentative, annoying and misogynistic' Medousa told her, 'but it became obvious that we both seem to enjoy the squabbling. It's more company than anything else' she continued. 'Although in terms of years he is as much of an infant as you from my perspective, in manner he is not as infuriatingly youthful and flippant as the vast majority of the inhabitants of this building' she said. 'I find the horde of teenagers particularly oppressive' the Guardian stated honestly.
'Maybe we could find you a nice retirement home' Buffy suggested with a chuckle.
'Where I could regale visitors with stories of my youth perhaps?' Medousa replied with a smile. 'I once had to flee for my life because I sneaked in to watch the Olympic Games and that was forbidden for women.'
'Why?' Buffy asked.
'Because back then the men competed naked, why do you think I sneaked in?' Medousa replied with a wink. 'Still it wasn't as fun as getting fired from my job as a vestal virgin in Rome' she added. 'I wasn't really qualified for the position and getting found with that Centurion pretty much made them realise I'd been less than candid on my resume.'
Buffy grimaced. 'Sorry' she apologised for the reaction, 'but it's like hearing sex stories from my grandmother' she told her.
Medousa shook her head sadly. 'Honestly you AD people think you invented sex' she responded. 'All you invented as far as I can see was sexual repression and homophobia' she opined. 'I blame the monotheism personally. Only one God, especially one who's a man, can only lead to trouble.'
'Well I won't think to argue theology with you' Buffy responded, 'but if we get the extra help you'll make with the scythes?'
'Yes' Medousa replied, 'but I'm still not forgetting about the productivity bonus' she added.
'Tell you what, don't punch anyone for a couple of days and I'll think about it' Buffy offered.
'Sounds fair' the Guardian agreed. 'Knox is too busy designing a weapon for his mistress to get in my way in any case and I have little inclination to violence when he is absent.'
'What kind of weapon?' Buffy asked nervously.
'A pair of very large swords to replace the one she already has but made in the same way as the new scythes' Medousa replied. 'I only know because he requested I enchant them on completion as I did the other one she used to defeat the Hellgod Glory. They will still be far weaker than the scythes, the magicks that flow through them and give them their power make them unusable by such as the Old One.'
'You're sure' Buffy asked her.
'I don't teach you how to slay vampires and you don't tell me how to enchant weapons' Medousa replied, 'or suck eggs' she added with a smile.
'My grandma what sharp scythes you have' Buffy joked.
'All the better to slay with my dear' Medousa replied, grateful she'd been catching up on modern literature as well as pop-culture so the reference didn't slip past her. She still preferred Homer to the new stuff though, pity she didn't keep that signed first addition of the Iliad she used to have, it would probably be worth a lot of money and in her opinion the original ending was a lot better anyhow.
Great Northern Forest – Pylea – February 2004
The fighting became frenzied in the end-game which came all too quickly once the slayers started pushing hard trying to force the enemy positions through the weak point. The Wolfram and Hart Special Op's were quite well dug in but this in turn limited their ability to redeploy to cover other angles, especially given the amount of supersonic lead flying about. It would have been a beautiful ambush if it had worked but they had underestimated their opponents thinking that even if it didn't go perfectly the slayers would be so rattled by getting into an unaccustomed gunfight they would be unable to exploit the situation.
It wasn't going to be a bloodless victory at the end though. One of the slayers on the right flank exchanging fire with one of the dug-outs caught a round in the upper arm which shattered the bone there and left it a bloody mess as she tried to crawl around for a better firing angle as she lay on the ground screaming another girl that tried to help nearly had her brains blown out by a round that skimmed across the side of her head and opened up a gaping wound that bled profusely as she tried to stem the flow using her beret as a cloth.
Mary was to become the second slayer to be killed that day as she caught a burst of fire in the chest and abdomen as she tried to move up on a trench. She was still alive when she saw another girl chuck an incendiary grenade into the trench and the last thing she heard were the dying screams of the man who had shot her as the grenade exploded showering him with burning phosphorus. Other positions were dealt with in the same way echoing stormtrooper tactics from late in the First World War when the combatants, initially the German Army in fact finally worked out how to properly deal with trench warfare by issuing plenty of sub-machine guns and grenades and simply overwhelming them in sudden shock attacks before the defenders could mount a decent defence or regain the initiative.
One of the special ops tried to run and scrambled out of his dug-out but was caught by a fifteen year old girl who charged him down and crashing into him at full speed and rammed a bayonet through him hard enough to lift him completely off his feet. She yanked it back out and screaming a battle-cry slammed it into him again as he hit the ground, she could see the terror in his eyes as she did it, all he could see in hers was rage, she looked a lot like his little sister he thought bizarrely as she ended his life.
The demons in the stockade came running out swords in hand once the slayers closed and they were ruthlessly shot to pieces except for one who knocked a slayers rifle from her hands and got her short-sword through his throat for his effort as she drew it and struck in one fluid practiced movement. The last demon died when Ashton emptied the remainder of a magazine through it at close range then used his own bayonet to finish the job. 'Throw a grenade in there before you take a look' he ordered indicating the stockade.
'No don't, I surrender' a voice called out from inside.
'Stand down Jailbait' Ashton said quickly to the girl who was still about to pull the pin on the grenade she pulled from her battlepack. 'Throw out you arms and come out hands above your head or we'll kill you' the mercenary said simply.
An assault rifle and a pistol were thrown out of the wooden stockade soon followed by a man wearing the black fatigues of Wolfram and Hart Special Ops with his hands up.
Ashton grabbed him and threw him face-first to the ground. 'Is there anyone else in there?' he bellowed planting a boot on the back of his neck.
'No' the man replied.
'Throw in that grenade then take a look Jailbait' Ashton ordered, the girl complying, pulling the pin and heaving it inside where it detonated shaking the stockade before she went inside, her carbine shouldered and ready for action. 'It's clear' she said after checking.
Ashton took his boot off the prisoners neck. 'Get up' he told him as two more girls arrived. 'Mary's dead' one of them announced. 'The rest of these fuckers are dead' she added pointing with her carbine at the man.
'Volunteer for the firing squad Caporal-Chef' the other girl said coldly.
'I surrendered' the prisoner protested.
'Do we look like we give a fuck about the Geneva Convention' Ashton told him. 'Don't kill him unless he runs' he ordered. 'I want information and this asshole has it' he said. 'There could be more of them heading this way' he continued. 'I want our wounded patched up ready to move in five minutes, carry them if you have to' he told the girls. 'I want Bella and Mary carried too we ain't leaving them behind for something to eat them.'
'I'll carry Bella' the closest girl said quietly. 'She was my friend.'
'Good girl' Ashton told her. 'Anyone not carrying someone, collect the enemy arms and ammunition we'll bring them along' he ordered, 'and before you touch any of them shoot them again to make sure they ain't just faking' he added. 'Alright shithead' he addressed the prisoner. 'Are there any more of you nearby?' he asked.
'No we're spread thin' the prisoner replied nervously.
'If anyone shows up I'm going to kill you for lying to me' Ashton said simply. 'Five minutes people then we're heading back to base at the double' he called out. 'They ain't nice like me back there' he told the prisoner.
'Who are you?' the man asked.
'Just the hired help like you I'm just choosier who I work for' Ashton replied. 'Not letting the girls shoot you or beat you to death is professional courtesy, don't make me set them loose on you because they're kinda pissed at the moment.'
'Mercenary' the prisoner noted. 'We didn't know your side was hiring mercs too' he said looking around, 'didn't think it was their style.'
'I guess it's a day for surprises' Ashton told him. 'Wouldn't want to bet on it not being your last either' he added then turned to the nearest slayer. 'He runs, you kneecap him, put a tourniquet around his leg so he doesn't bleed to death and carry him' he told the girl then turned back to the prisoner. 'She can carry you easy and she'd love to shoot you so don't give her an excuse' he told him. 'Time's ticking by slayers' he yelled. 'Sense of urgency people, go go go' he encouraged them. If they stopped to start thinking about the situation they might fall apart, he needed them busy, active and distracted.
The slayer looked into the eyes of the prisoner. 'Run' she told him. 'Please' she added, seemingly staring right through him.
'You really underestimated my girls didn't you' Ashton told him. 'Well if you think they were mean before how do you think they'll be now?' he asked rhetorically then paused. 'So what do they pay you guys anyhow?' he asked curiously.
Note from the Author:
This Fanfic runs on reviews.
The next chapter will be a touch less intense and more light-hearted, and I wish you all a Happy Easter