Chapter 41

"I want this guy found; I don't care how we do it. And then I'm going to question him, alone. Connor can't know about it."

"I was thinking about contacting Willow, asking if perhaps she could try and locate Genero."

"I don't care how you do it, Wes, but I want him by the end of the day. Understand? You have eight hours to make it happen."

Turning on his heel, Angel left the office. He hadn't meant to get so hot under the collar and he certainly hadn't meant to speak to Wesley so harshly, but he figured his friend would give him a break considering the circumstances. Dragging his hands through his hair, Angel started up the stairwell that would lead to the floor that Will inhabited.

Angel didn't bother to knock to enter that office. Will was leaving a message on Dawn's phone, Angel presumed for about the hundredth time that day. Sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of Will's desk, he listened to a rather pitiful message being left for Dawn. After Will hung up, Angel watched him for a few minutes before he spoke.

"I just gave Wesley an order to find Genero by any means necessary."

Will's eyes widened. "With Wesley, that could mean a lot of things."

"I'm aware of that. That's why I went to him."

"I see." Steeping his fingers, Will rested his elbows on his desk and narrowed his eyes in Angel's direction. "What do you want me to do?"

"Get Xander and go through every nook and cranny of this guy. I mean, even the stuff you've done before, do it again. The two of you need to find his family, his friends. If we can't find him, we'll go after them. I don't care if we have his ninety year old grandmother arrested for jay walking, I want to get this guys' attention."

"I can do that. Let me get this strait though, any means necessary? You haven't been willing to go this far for a long time."

"It's a long time coming. I'm tired of playing by the rules with these people. I want to get their attention. No more keeping this secret, either, I want to scare them up. Let's start making some noise about this."

Nodding, a slightly devious smile came to his face. "I can start this immediately?"

"Absolutely. I want results within the next eight hours."

Standing, Angel made his way out of the office without further comments. Taking a deep breath, he fished his phone from his pocket and secreted himself away in a small nook in the hallway. There were pressing questions he had been forcing himself to keep from asking for a long time that finally needed answering. She answered, as always, on the first ring.

"Didn't I just see you?"

"Have you had any visions you're not telling me about?"

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "I have a lot of visions I don't tell you about. I take care of it."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about, Cordy. Have you had any visions about Connor?"

He waited for a few unbearable seconds, his mind screaming for her to deny his unspoken acquisition and put him at ease. He wished with every fiber of his being that she would deny what he already knew was true. If she lied, though, he knew he wouldn't press her further. He would accept her lies as truth if only to help their already strained relationship survive; if only to believe that she was who he wanted her to be.

"Yes. I have. I didn't tell you because it wasn't the right time to tell you. I saw his family die. It wasn't a vision I was meant to share, it was a punishment I had to endure. I was warned not to tell anyone. It had to happen that way."

He didn't breathe, he didn't think. He just spoke. "Anything else you haven't told me?"

"You'll find out everything I know by tonight. I'm not a magic eight ball, Angel; I can only tell you what I am allowed to."

"That shitty excuse has never stopped you before. You never compromised yourself for the fucking powers and you know it, Cordy. Congratulations on finally being their crony." He hung up unceremoniously, hoping that the resounding click would linger in her head and haunt her. Slapping himself mentally, he told himself that was childish and probably not going to happen. She would probably feel bad for about five minutes and then roll her eyes.

Breathing deeply, he walked purposely back to his office. As he expected, Connor was asleep on the couch, tossing a little and mumbling incoherently. He was haunted in his dreams but too tired to wake up. Being as quiet as possible, Angel sat back down at his desk and started scribbling a few proposals on a yellow legal pad. He was afraid typing would wake his son, and when he was perfectly honest with himself, he admitted that he was old fashioned enough to prefer writing.

Two of the letters he wrote were sent to his secretary to be typed before they would be sent back to him for a final approval and his signature. One was addressed to Willow and Giles; he still had to be legal and official, even with his friends. The other was for the entire legal team finalizing the budget for the fiscal year. As he continued in his work, he found that he was eyeing his phone every few minutes, expecting someone to call him and report that they had found Genero.

With that thought, he quickly started comprising a list of methods to more properly and thoroughly screen job applicants. He had covered an entire page was moving onto the second when Connor stirred. Quickly finishing the sentence he had started, Angel slipped the pages into the fax machine and sent them to his secretary.

Connor sat up slowly, rubbing his hands over his burning eyes as he did so. "Sorry I fell asleep."

"You should try sleeping at night. Could solve your sleeping during the day problem."

Connor gave him a wry, sarcastic smile and Angel had to grin. Perhaps there was still something left of Connor beneath the grief.

"Yeah, I'll try that dad."

Connor seemed not to realize what he had said, but the words stopped the breath in Angels' lungs. Connor had called him dad, his suddenly sluggish brain fully realized. Connor had used the word dad and associated it with Angel. His heart leapt in his chest as his breath returned. Grinning at his son, he stood from the desk and sat next to Connor on the couch.

"Do you want anything? Do you need anything?"

"I'm okay. Sorry about the breakdown earlier." The embarrassment was evident on Connors' face.

Shaking his head, Angel quickly responded. "Don't apologize. None of us are made of steel all the time. We have to buckle once and a while and you have more than enough reason to do so."

Connor nodded ascent but it was obvious to Angel that his son didn't believe his words. He was too young, Angel reflected, to realize that he needed to be weak sometimes. Angel knew that he, himself, had learned that lesson the hard way. A delusional fever and months of self torture had been needed in order to teach Angel he wasn't strong all the time and didn't need to be.

"Would you like to go home? I can call you if anything happens."

Connor gave his father a sad smile. "I'd rather stay here if it's alright. I don't want to miss anything."

"You won't. Go home Connor, I'll call you if anything happens. And tell Buffy I'll be late; I have some meetings with human resources tonight. Hiring procedures." Angel's conscious pricked him a little, but he ignored it. Lying now would be beneficial later. Connor couldn't know the deadline Angel had given Wes and Will; the younger man would want to involved. The methods Angel was planning on employing were not appropriate for his sons' eyes.

Patting Connors' shoulders, Angel showed him out of the office. Releasing a breath he hadn't known he had been holding Angel waited a few minutes before leaving for Will's office. As he opened the door, though, he was confronted with Wesley. The other man's hand was raised as if to knock, but he simply lowered it and raised an eyebrow before stepping into Angels' office.

"I take it Connor's gone."

Nodding, Angel crossed his arms and leaned against his desk. "What have we got?"

Wesley handed Angel a piece of paper with an address written on it. Paper clipped to the paper was a picture from of a security camera of a man that looked to be the one they had been searching for. At Angel's raised eyebrow, Wesley explained.

"We need to rearrange my budget; I bribed three of our employees to find out that Genero used to frequent a certain part of Pasadena. Xander has those three employees now; he's questioning them about their involvement. I then had to bribe a lieutenant of the Pasadena Police Force to get me all the video footage of the area for the past week. Fred used a computer program to pick out his image from the dozens of digital files."

"How did you get the three employees to talk to you?"

"I posed on the phone as someone looking for Genero and hinted towards being involved in a cult he was also affiliated with. Apparently, these people talked with Xander before; they had been after work drinking buddies with Genero. None of them would say anything remotely indicating themselves in the conspiracy, but it's clear they were aware that Genero was part of something very questionable."

"Good work Wes. How much should I tell finance to front you?"

"You'll get the bill, believe me. I think the lieutenant will be able to put his daughter through college for four years debt free. The employees, obviously, were not sent any real amounts of money." Wesley gave Angel a small, tight, smile. This had cost them a pretty penny. Whatever the amount, though, it was a small price to pay by Angels' estimations.

Angel was glad that Wesley would do whatever necessary when asked to, even bribe an upstanding and moral officer of a police department. He felt guilty for not giving the go-ahead to this earlier. Indicating that Wesley should have a seat at the conference table, Angel called Will. The other man didn't answer his office phone, but did answer his cell phone.

"What have you got?"

"Give me ten minutes and I'll come and show you. Xander's coming too." Will hung up before Angel would respond.

Sitting at the head of the oval conference table, Angel rested his elbows on the shiny surface and steeped his fingers. They were going to pull out all the stops this time. They weren't going to pussyfoot around this any longer, he told himself. It was time to find justice for his son. Looking up at the opening of the door he saw a serious looking Will walk in accompanied by a rather unhappy Xander. The two men sat down after without a word.

Will began without preamble. "They knew something. Not sure what, but those three knew Genero was involved in something very unsavory. One of them, I'm pretty sure, was in on it too. He indicated it didn't go very high in the company, though that could have been a red herring. I'm inclined to agree with him, though, I think this was an outside job; these four employees were just cannon fodder."

"Someone's providing a new life for our guy, though. Who's the financer?"

"I'll get to that, don't rush me. Anyway, you said to send a message. Well, I sent one. The one I think was involved, and I'm ninety-nine percent sure of that, is now without a tongue. I think that will tell his bosses all they need to know. The other two are in perfect physical condition, but they may need therapy for the rest of their lives; they watched me do it. And I didn't do it quickly." Will's eyes darkened dangerously.

"Good. I want them to suffer. Send a bigger message than that, Will; that's a whisper."

"Don't worry, Peaches. I put a calling card out there. Besides his tongue, I took his ear. I sent the ear to Genero, who will likely take it to the higher ups. And it's bugged. As is the box. Wherever that ear goes, we go."

Nodding approval, Angel looked to Xander; he wondered what part the man played in this. Xander leaned back, exuded an angry confidence. "They wouldn't talk to me and I'm a pretty good interrogator. Not as good as Will; I got to watch his techniques. I'm pretty pissed because I thought I did a good job. Apparently not, though. I want in on this. We need to send a very loud message that you cannot work for the other side and be employed by this company."

Wesley, who had been silent up until then, slid the paper and picture he brought across the table. "Where did you send the ear? This picture was taken at a Pasadena ATM."

"Genero has a P.O. box he uses sometimes. It's registered to a cousin of his. The newly tongue-less one told me that before I preformed surgery."

Angel stood slowly and with purpose. He was ready to bring these people in. "Let's follow that ear. Xander and Wes, go to the P.O. box. Will and I will go to the presumed location of this guy's new apartment. When will the package arrive?"

"I had a courier deliver it. It should be there within the next half hour. The P.O. box is in Pasadena."

"Let's go then." Angel led the group out the door and down into the parking deck. Choosing two cars that were not connected to Wolfram and Hart in any way, the quartet of men started on their way to Pasadena.

Angel got into the passenger seat of the car as Will took his place behind the wheel. Pulling out his cell phone, Angel dialed home and hoped against hope that Connor wouldn't answer the phone. His son had refused to answer the phone since moving in and Angel hoped that trend would continue until the end of the night. Buffy finally answered just before the answering machine picked up.

"Hello?"

"Buffy, listen, I'll be late tonight. Very late."

There was a pregnant pause as Buffy considered the implications of that statement. "Human Resources, huh?"

"Not quite. I'll tell when I see you in the morning, okay? Don't worry tonight."

He listened to her take a deep breath and then slowly release it. "I hope this is something big, Angel. Like save the world big, because I am going on nine months pregnant and I'm moody. I want my man to rub my feet and my back and talk to my belly." She sounded none to happy with him.

"It's important, Buffy. I can't tell you now, but I promise I will tomorrow. I love you."

"I love you too." She hung up before he could say anything else.

She had sounded very displeased in the last few words. Angel was hoping he would be able to explain everything in the morning, if he had a chance to go home. Knowing there was a high probably that this would take the majority of the night; Angel wasn't really counting on returning home at all. His conscious screamed at him; he felt as though he was telling lie after lie tonight.

Hoping the outcomes of the night would be enough to make up for the white lies he had been spewing to his loved ones; he crossed his fingers and watched Will press the button that changed the radio stations. He would continue to press the buttons, Angel knew, until the man found something he liked. That could take an hour. Exhaling slowly, Angel crossed his arms across his chest, glad for the warmth of the vehicle, and stared out the window. They were nearing their destination when Will finally found a station he liked and stopped pressing buttons on the console.

Angel smiled in spite of himself. Even on their worst missions, he could still find humor in his surroundings. He thanked the heavens for small gifts and hoped the night would yield yet larger ones.