Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and corresponding companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this at any point in the future. I write fanfics because its fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my works. I hope making this clear will keep any legal nukes from being dropped on my head.

Note: I know you guys don't like how long I'm taking with some elements of the story but what I am trying to do is epitomize 'you cannot go home again'. I wanted to affect such profound change on the Scoobies that the odds of returning to their old lives anytime soon were slim and none. Many fanfics have the Scoobies altered but still remain doing the same old thing after a brief adventure with whatever show/movie/game/etc BtVS is crossed with.

For me I don't want them to return 'home' for at least a couple of years if not decades.

One Week Later, Buffy's POV

It's gonna feel SO good cutting them all into fish bait once we're free!

Shut up, she thought as she proceeded back to the unofficial Scooby room from her latest session with the dialysis machine.

Why do you fight what you know to be true? This is nothing new to you. You've always felt a sense of pleasure dusting vamps and slaying demons.

This is different! she thought angrily as she tried to block out the voice that felt familiar but shouldn't. Those were demons. Monsters! They weren't… human.

Stop quibbling over details! A target is a target, doesn't matter if it's human or demon, both have flesh that can be parted by our blade with equal ease!

IT'S AN IMPORTANT DETAIL! she thought loudly in the hopes of cowing the voice that had been tormenting her for weeks. I SAVE HUMAN LIVES! I DON'T TAKE THEM!

I think Carrie Marchant's bodyguard and driver would think differently. Oh, that's right! They can't think because you sliced them into bloody chunks! In fact you've sliced quite a few HUMANS into even portions haven't you.

I didn't have a choice! she thought in her own defense. They would've hurt the others if I didn't follow orders!

Bullshit! That blonde bitch hit the truth right on the head a week ago: you could've killed yourself anytime you wanted but you value your own life more than that of a stranger's life.

SHUT UP! she thought with a roar as her rage approached the boiling point. JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!

The voice in her mind simply laughed at her.

For minutes she waited for the voice that was familiar but should not be, the voice of Jackie, to come back at her and say something more, to piss her off even more, but when nothing happened she breathed a sigh of relief. She knew that the others had ghosts, for want of a better word, of their costume's personality floating around their heads but she doubted that they actually talked to their personality like she did to hers. For them… for them it was probably more of a case of mistaking certain memories for their own or slipping into mannerisms not their own without realizing it. For her, though, whispers started to pop up after her third assassination mission and had only gotten louder and more bloodthirsty. She'd done the best she could to block the voice out and focus on other things but, ever since the attack on Area Fifty-One, blocking it out became almost impossible to do. The blasted thing made a game of provoking her and messing with her head to the point where she was pushed to the edge of violence, and it receded. The others probably excused her short temper and fits of anger as solely being caused by the Queen Bitch Mayfield as well as her underlings.

The truth of it was that their task mistress was only part of the cause of her temper flaring up for all to see.

Worst of all, she didn't know what to do about the bloody voice or if there was anything really that could be done. If it was just psychological then she needed therapy and lots of it, but she doubted she'd get some of that before they managed to throw off the Business Bitch's collars. However, if it turned out to be a kind of magical leftover of some kind, then she'd have to bear with it until they got back to a branch of the Council. Even if Giles and Willow had the mojo to do something about the echo in her head, she knew there'd be research that'd need to be done before they could try anything.

Bottom line: she had no choice but to endure for as long as she could without losing control.

Not an easy thing to do when they kept on getting sent on missions that only seemed to feed her inner Jackie and make her stronger. With every life that she took or drop of blood that she spilled, the beast roared louder and too long to drive away.

Whatever! I've always been too stubborn for my own good. I'll manage. Somehow.

Upon entering the room her eyes fell upon the expected sight of all her friends doing what they usually did when they weren't undergoing 'maintenance' or doing wet work for the bitch… except one.

"Where's Xander?" she asked, not seeing the nanosuited man.

Usually her friend spent his time helping the others work through their issues or 'meditated with his suit's artificial intellgience', but this time he was nowhere in the room.

"Um… he's… not here." Willow replied, looking a little uncertain.

"I can see that. Where is he?" she asked, narrowing her eyes a smidgen.

"You might as well tell her, Willow." Giles said from his specially reinforced chair. "She's going to find out sooner or later."

"I guess," Willow said with a sigh of dread. "He's gone off to that entertainment room Mayfield made up for us."

"WHAT!?" she exclaimed, unable to believe that her friend gave in that BITCH's bribery.

"According to Xander he'd reached an impasse with his meditating and figured watching a couple of movies might give him some inspiration." Giles explained, sounding a little disappointed but nothing more.

"He couldn't get inspiration from one of us?!" she asked, not accepting such a flimsy excuse.

"Experience with artificial intelligence limited to the mentality of a five year old," Willow replied, pointing to herself. "From what you told us Raiden didn't have any experience with . Dawn won't talk thanks to that directive Athena put into her and, while Cortana is an A.I., she says that the nanosuit's artificial intelligence S.E.C.O.N.D. isn't even at the level of a dumb A.I whereas she is classified as a smart A.I."

"There's a difference?" she asked, not quite getting it.

"Dumb A.I.s can't learn anything outside of whatever job they were designed for." Cortana replied through the Mjolnir armor's external speakers. "It'd be like your brain refusing to retain anything not associated with fighting. Smart A.I.s like myself are under no such restrictions and can absorb information from a wide variety of sources as well as topics. From what I can tell, S.E.C.O.N.D. isn't sentient by any stretch of the imagination and is basically just a means to both regulate the nanosuit's functions and manage information."

When put that way she guessed that none of them could help Xander get through with his A.I. but that brought up the question of why her friend was working with the program in the first place. She knew they all had theories about the why of it all, that like the rest of them he was trying to figure out a way to free them all, but without knowing more none of them could really help. Since they couldn't talk out loud or communicate with writing, there was no way to pool their efforts, thereby maximizing their chances. With all the spy gear that was set up all over the place, they'd be found out the instant they tried rendering their efforts useless.

Doesn't help that the best I was able to come up with turned to crap when the bitch revealed the control she had over Dawn, she thought angrily as she moved over to the cot at the far end of the room. Guess the only thing I can do is be ready to do whatever they tell me when they put their own plans into effect.

Lying down on the cot, she cursed for the umpteenth time the fact that her sense of touch had been so drastically reduced thanks to Ethan's blasted spell. She used to love the feel of bed sheets when she slipped into bed and basked in the warmth they surrounded her in after just a dozen or so minutes. Now, though… now all she felt was the basic tactile sensation of something touching her or being wrapped around her. There was no comforting temperature to be felt or pleasing texture to the sheets as they rubbed against skin. When added to the fact that she could no longer eat or drink, her current existence was almost suffocating.

Closing her eyes, she prayed that her dreams would be of happier times when all was right with her life.

Somehow, though, she knew that her prayer wouldn't be heard.

No one in the halo and wings crowd had ever answered them before, so why should now be any different?

Ten Days Later, In Transit by Car, Willow's POV

When will it end? When will our lives be our own again?

It was a question she'd been asking herself ever since the group briefing ten hours ago and she had yet to come up with a satisfactory answer.

When Mayfield had called them all to the briefing room together, they'd thought that they were in for another facility raid of some kind. It made sense since in all other sort of missions they'd just paired up two to a mission and Giles had never been in the field for any other kind of mission. The truth turned out to be far worse than ever before and this time no one would be spared the blood that would soon flow.

As the demon in human form explained to them, they would each be assigned a target for assassination, Giles included, and apparently the woman wanted to happen at precisely the same time globally. All of the targets were apparently part of an oversight committee attached to an operation affiliated with Area Fifty-One and Mayfield wanted them dead. Whether the target was alone or surrounded by bystanders, nothing less than their certain death would be considered a victory and, as always, any witnesses were to be silenced as well. She'd been the one to inquire on what should be done if the number of witnesses exceed what could effectively be killed, given that everyone'd likely scatter after the first body dropped dead.

All Mayfield had said was that it would be up to them to choose their weapons accordingly.

Using Motoko's experience she selected two weapons that she felt would best suit a situation wherein she would have a lot of people to kill, along with the primary target. She would be striking the target while he was at home and, when she'd asked how many witnesses there'd be, all she was told was that the man was having a 'small get together with some friends'. While she wanted to take things at face value, she had a sneaking suspicion that 'small get together' was going to be the mother of all understatements so she made sure that was reflected in her weapon choices.

Seeing dirt road that she'd found when examining the maps and topography of the area surrounding the kill zone, she turned onto it and followed it for a good fifteen minutes before pulling off to the side. Getting out she went to the rear doors of the van she'd requisitioned for the job and opened them up to reveal two large rectangular metal cases with heavy duty handles on each. Most people looking at them might think that they'd require either a real muscle-bound guy or two average guys to get off the ground but for her they weren't any heavier than your average suitcases. Lifting them out of the van, she began her trek to the top of the hill she'd chosen as her shooter's nest since it provided her with a clear line of sight to the target's home as well as the widest view of the property. It didn't take long but, once she reached her destination, she could tell with a look that the number of extras had indeed been understated. There was a full blown party and her only saving grace was that it looked to be an outdoors party, meaning that there'd likely only be a handful of people indoors to worry about.

Guess it's a good thing I brought the right tools for the job, she thought as she opened the first container, which held a Seburo bolt action .50 BMG sniper rifle.

While she could've chosen to get in close to get the job done, there was always the chance that the primary target could get away from her. Better to surgically eliminate the primary first and then deal with the rest then to risk the most important prey getting clean away. Mayfield would not be happy if that happened and failure could have seriously painful consequences not just for her but for all five of them.

Piece by piece she assembled the sniper rifle and, once ready, she got down onto her stomach before reaching over for the bullets. One by one she slid them into the firearm until the weapon was at capacity before looking through the scope to find her target. She presumed that most snipers were good enough with just one bullet but neither she nor Motoko were very experienced with sniper rifles, not like Saito of Section Nine. She had to accept that there was a chance her first shot might miss and have others on standby to do what the first failed to do.

Normally a sniper would have a spotter or someone to give them a rough idea where their target was but she was on her own, so she just continued to check each face to enter her crosshairs. She ignored the women entirely since her target was male and only stopped to consider those men without a lick of hair on their heads. It took her almost ten minutes of searching but eventually Fate gave her a helping hand. What once was the back of a person's head soon became the right side of the man's face and instantly she matched it to the photographs she had taped to the dashboard of her van.

Doctor Carl Strom, the Committee Head of the International Oversight Advisory.

She hadn't gotten more information than that but, considering the nature of their previous target, it was safe to say that whatever operation Strom served as oversight for it was probably classified to even the highest ranked of people. Why Mayfield wanted the man dead, she didn't know but she was sure there was some nefarious purpose behind it. Their first few missions had been to eliminate or blackmail rival businesses and the attack on Area Fifty-One was likely to both acquire specific tech as well as eliminate America's primary alien tech research facility. For this five person assassination event, she could only presume she wanted to completely decapitate the advisory committee of a specific project or program. The point of making it all happen at the same time worldwide was to intimidate the opposition.

Better get started, she thought as she activated the HUD function of her scope.

Immediately information came up on the left side of the scope, such as a countdown and the basic layout of the target's property with red dots signifying people. She could only imagine there had to be a satellite overhead taking everything in and beaming the relevant data to the dish on top of the van, then to her scope for her to see. There was also a circle that had a single line going through it that seemed to randomly go from left to right to left but she knew it was meant to show her which way the wind was blowing at the moment. Once she was satisfied that all the necessary information was being reliably displayed, she focused her attention back on the scope to make sure she didn't lose her target.

He appeared to be mingling with his guests, moving every few minutes, so she made sure that she was aiming just a little off center in the direction the target was moving. When Strom finally stopped moving, she moved the center of the crosshairs to the center of the man's head to minimize the chances of a miss.

Five minutes and twenty-two seconds until show time. She glanced at the countdown timer. I hope the others aren't having any trouble getting into position.

She was pretty sure they weren't but no one could foresee everything.

Where they were now, both in bodies as well as in 'occupation', proved that beyond a reasonable doubt.

All they could do was endure.

Defence Intelligence and Security Centre, Chicksands, Bedfordshire, UK

Dawn/Cameron's POV

Infiltration accomplished, she thought as she made it past the metal detectors.

Personality profile 'Luna Moneypenny' was online and operating well within acceptable parameters. Data was successfully uploaded to her mainframe point three four hours prior to departure from Facility Prime and appropriate implements to maximize successful completion of mission objectives. Once she had boarded the transport that would take her most of the distance to her target, she began to run simulations on the structure she would be entering in order to terminate Russel Chapman. All data provided on the interior was taken into account from the activities of its occupants to the placement of furniture and the security devices. Using the false credentials that she had been provided with, possible avenues of approach were constructed by her systems to gain entry to the target's office. All of that data was cross referenced with the files detailing the latest version of their security procedures in order to predict the actions of the tertiary targets to facilitate termination.

By the time the transport had landed she had ascertained which series of actions held the highest probability of accomplishing her primary objective and her tertiary objective. At every possible point of divergence secondary plans were in place in order to optimize adaptability to unforeseen encounters or obstructions. Already preliminary preparations had been completed and, with successful entry into the building itself, she could initialize the alpha scenario.

Maintaining the outward appearance of a data analyst transferring in from another branch, she promptly went through the accepted behaviors for a new arrival; meeting with a representative from the personnel department, performing preliminary socialization with employees of equal or lesser rank and eventually being assigned tasks. After evaluating the tasks, she ascertained that none of them would get her to the second level where the target's office was located. Consulting her inner chronometer, she ascertained that she could complete the first two tasks and still terminate the target at the designated time.

This possibility had been taken into account with her mission data so performing the first two tasks she'd been given had been completed within an acceptable span of time. However, when her internal countdown chronometer reached five minutes, she could delay no further and so initiated a secondary plan conceived to deal with the possibility that she would not be sent to the right floor. Going over to where they had heated beverages available for consumption, she poured herself a cup before mixing in the common additions of sugar and cream. It was while she was mixing these additions with a plastic spoon that she kept a close watch on the movement of the centre's occupants, measuring the likelihood that they were going to ascend the stairs to the second level. She had files on each employee detailing their qualifications and their duties in order to further facilitate determining who would be going upstairs within the next five minutes.

Without warning one employee, a woman, reached a probability percentage of near ninety-six percent for going upstairs and, when she used her ocular sensors to enlarge as well as enhance the documents the woman was holding, it became one hundred percent. The documents were either addressed specifically to her target or dealt with subject matters that required Russel Chapman's evaluation.

With the key factor in her most valid secondary scenario, she began to walk across the room while pretending to be so preoccupied with something that she wasn't paying attention to where she was walking. The truth was that she was precisely controlling her movements so that she would intercept the woman at the foot of the stairs. It took less than a minute for her to reach the well-dressed employee and she 'bumped into' the woman, 'accidentally' spilling some of her tea in the process.

"Bloody hell!" the woman exclaimed in surprise and annoyance. "Watch where you're going, you fluff brain. Look what you did!"

She knew what she did; she purposefully aimed the splash so that it would hit the blazer sleeve while missing the documents entirely.

"Oh, blimey! I am SO sorry!" she said, putting the cup down on a nearby desk before taking out a handkerchief to try and soak up the spilt tea on the blazer. "This is just so different from my last job… I guess I just started thinking too much."

"Yes, well, you'd do well to start thinking less and being more observant of your surroundings," the woman said sounding more understanding before looking at the tea on her sleeve. "Now I need to go clean this up quick."

This was the opening she'd wanted to create.

"Let me make it up to you!" she entreated pleadingly with perfectly performed earnest emotion. "You were going to deliver those upstairs, right? Let me take them there for you so you can clean up properly."

"Well… strictly speaking I'm not supposed to… but… oh hell!" the woman said before handing over the documents. "Just get up there and deliver them right quick, alright? If anyone asks, just tell'em to speak to me about it."

"You got it," she said with simulated enthusiasm. "I'll be as fast as the wind!"

She began her ascent to the second level at what would be considered a hurrying speed for a human. Once there she consulted her internal countdown chronometer and saw that she had just a little over a minute before she had to terminate her target. Upon reaching the top step, she immediately made her way to the office of her target going through her available options for termination. She hadn't been able to bring a weapon in with her due to the security measures of the centre, so that meant she would have to use her own body to induce fatal trauma or use something in the environment.

Either way, termination would be achieved.

She stood outside of Russel Chapman's office door and then, as politeness dictated, she knocked to allow those inside to know she was there.

"Enter!" came a man's voice, only slightly muffled by the door.

Turning the doorknob, she pushed the door open to find two men in the room but it only took a moment for her facial recognition software to confirm a ninety-nine percent match with Russel Chapman. She did not bother to do a scan of the other person in the room but rather confirmed that there were mere seconds before her target was to be terminated. Walking forward, she glanced about the room to look for a suitably lethal implement but found the ideal one decorating the target's desk.

"I have something important to deliver to you, Mister Chapman," she said as she let her false personae go offline.

"Well then give it to me, young lady." Chapman said holding out his hand expectantly.

"Very well," she said as she reached for the decorative short sword's hilt as her countdown reached five seconds.

Parking Garage, Next to the French Diplomatic Offices, Paris, France

Xander's POV

Just breath, Xander, he thought as he kept his eyes on a single vehicle. This'll be over in the blink of an eye. You've read the intel and you know LaPierre's routine. Just wait until he arrives.

Indeed he'd already picked the perfect time to hit the man that would keep unnecessary bloodshed to a minimum and ensure the death of his target. According to the intel, the man would be coming out of the diplomatic offices any minute now and would then get into his car before driving home. In anticipation of this he'd planted two large blocks of Semtex underneath the man's car, one right under the driver's seat while the other was wedged next to the gas tank. Both were set up to detonate at the press of a button, ensuring that the French rep for the International Observation Advisory would get hit from two sources of force. Between them and the fire from the detonated gas tank, something he took the precaution of filling to the brim, there was no reason it shouldn't have done the job.

As he kept an eye on the clock of his car, knowing precisely when he'd have to press the button in order to make everything 'mission accomplished'. He still had some time left, though, so he chose to turn his mind towards his own plan to get the captured Scoobies off their leashes. His plan was a simple one but, in his mind, it also held the best chance of success. For weeks now he'd been trying to communicate with the non-sentient artificial intelligence of his nanosuit in order to get it to do what he wanted it to do. He thought that just maybe he could get it to disable the implant that caused him so much pain at the press of a button either by destroying it or merely blocking the activation signal. To him it was feasible so he'd devoted all his free time to it looking for any way to convince the A.I to do what he wanted, but it was like convincing a mountain to fall.

You could talk for weeks and, while it might seem like it'd had an effect, after a couple of years you could never be quite sure if it was your words that had an affect or merely the passage of time.

Still, the last time he'd checked, S.E.C.O.N.D had said something about initiating vector analysis but damned if he knew what that meant. Neither he nor Major Laurence Barnes were science majors so he didn't have a clue and just barely understood that it was trying SOMETHING but nothing more than that. All he could do was wait for it to say 'vector analysis complete' and hope that the outcome was something he liked. He couldn't talk it over with Willow, not out loud, and the only safe route he could think of was something he wasn't sure they'd be able to do. In the 'Ghost in the Shell' anime, anytime they wanted to have a private conversation they just connected via their cybernetic implants but he didn't have the necessary interface ports. Sure, they could talk via their comm systems but that could be eavesdropped on and all it'd take was one word to Mayfield to bring the hammer down on them all. Unless some significant modifications were done to the nanosuit, he wouldn't be able to privately connect with his best bud to get her scientific opinion of his efforts.

I just hope that the others have better escape plans than me, he thought as the sound of the parking garage's staircase door opening. We need to get out of this mess before we get dragged any deeper into the darkness.

Turning his head, he expected to see Jean LaPierre walking towards his car and so he did, but the man wasn't alone. A woman was with him and in that woman's arms was a little girl that couldn't have been more than a couple of years old, with both of the unanticipated tag alongs sticking pretty close to LaPierre. Were they related? Worse than that, were they the man's wife and child?! For three solid seconds he contemplated aborting the mission and, to hell with the consequences, but then images of his friends in pain filled his mind. Images that evolved into one or more of them being horrifically executed and dissected like frogs on the science class slab… and he was left with no choice but to kill the part of him that felt for the family in front of him.

He had no other choice; either people he loved like family died or three people he never knew existed a week ago died in their stead.

As a man who was ruled by his heart there was only one choice.

The mission would go ahead as planned.

God? I know we've never really seen eye to eye on a lot of things and I've probably pissed you off many times but… please forgive me for what I'm about to do. Forgive me and, when they get to heaven, tell them I beg them for forgiveness as well.

He wanted to believe the old tale that God was capable of forgiving anyone who genuinely asked for it but to him there were just some things that could never be forgiven no matter how remorseful someone was for the act they committed.

Did this qualify?

He honestly wished that he knew because it'd sure as hell set his mind at ease one way or another.

The Rooftop Across from the Chinese Embassy in Washington D.C

Buffy's POV

Only one way to do this, she thought as her twin solid eyes devices allowed her to watch every car and every person that left the embassy, identifying them with only a second of looking. Quick and fast. Get ahead of her and, the second I have a straight line, just sprint forward, swinging as fast as I can until I'm past her.

It wasn't that she was cowardly, not entirely, but rather that she was confident that her high frequency blade would slice through everything in her path including the target then she could just leap away once the job was done. Given the speeds she was capable of, she could run your average city block in the blink of an eye, making it unlikely that anyone would see anything more than a blur. The odds of someone having any kind of camera capable of capturing such a fast moving object with sufficient clarity to get Mayfield's panties in a twist were ridiculous, even for a politics-infested place like Washington D.C.

It'd be over so quick that she probably wouldn't even see the face of the woman she was supposed to kill more than once and that'd just to confirm that she was in the vehicle.

At such speeds, no one else would see her so no one else would need to die.

There, she thought as her solid eyes pegged Shen Xiaoyi's car leaving the embassy with one escort car in front and one to the rear. Time for a little follow the leader.

Using the speed her cybernetic body along with bursts of strength, she was able to keep up with the vehicles with ease no matter the gap between the buildings. She'd already picked out a stretch of street that would suit her needs and it existed along the target's usual route home, so all she needed to do was follow for the time being. It'd be about eight minutes of driving before they reached that point so, while half of her mind was on moving her body in the right direction, the other half went towards thinking about the darkness that surrounded both her and her friends.

It was a darkness she could only think of one way to disperse.

It was a way that would require her to sacrifice her little sister to make work.

Therefore it was a way removed from consideration before she could even voice it.

She knew that the others were likely working on plans of their own to help them regain their freedom and she knew that if she relied on them, they'd figure out at least one plan that'd work. All she could do was fight her inner demons, keep her cool and, when the time came, do whatever task they needed her to do so that they could all be free. To that end she'd been asking Giles about meditation techniques and ways she could increase her emotional control, using the reason that she didn't want to risk losing it and hurting Dawn. That was the main reason but another was to keep Jackie under control so that she didn't flip out and start laughing like a psycho from a slasher film.

That was the direction she was heading in if she didn't get things under control; covered in blood, high frequency blade in hand, manic smile on her face and the kind of chuckling that'd inspire fear in just about anyone with or without a pulse.

Not going to happen! Not now. NOT EVER!

Never say never, little girl! Jackie said from the back of her mind.

Shut… the FUCK… UP! she thought as she continued hopping rooftops.

Now, now! What would your mother think of you using such foul language? Jackie asked with a reproving tone of voice that soon turned malicious. Bet the bitch would be SO proud of how her little girl turned out! Especially now that you finally have reason to keep your legs closed. Can't exactly get any if you don't have a hole to fill there, eh?

Do NOT speak about my MOTHER LIKE THAT! she screamed angrily, almost missing a jump ahead of her. She loved me! She'd want me to be happy. She'd want me to find a guy.

Yeah. She wanted you to find A GUY, singular, not to jump from broody to soldiery to badass to immortal, Jackie sneered inside her mind. There's a word for that ya know. Now what was it again? Slut? Whore? Nope, that isn't it. Ah, yes! COWARD! That's what you are! You're so afraid of going all in with a guy you always choose the ones where it's just not going to work no matter how hard you try!

No one knows if they'd found Mister Right the second they set eyes on him, she thought, defending her dating history as best she could. They all looked fine starting out. Things just got… complicated before the end.

You mean your lies eventually stopped working on yourself, Jackie thought back, not buying one word. I mean a blind person could tell that dating a walking corpse wouldn't work out. Soldiers are macho men to begin with, so being shown up by someone half their size poisoned everything. As for an immortal, well, it's obvious you were just a fun toy that he eventually got bored with. After all, you're pretty much a child compared to him, so where's the soul mate in someone like that?!

Deciding that arguing with the voice in her head was pointless, she opted to go the 'ignore the bitch and maybe she'll go away' route for as long as was necessary. Besides, she had to focus on the task at hand in order to make sure there weren't any screw ups and getting all pissed at the ghost in her brain wouldn't help. Mentally building the thickest walls she could manage around the spot in her mind where Jackie resided, she looked down to the street to make sure she hadn't lost her target. With a half nod of satisfaction she saw that the Chinese representative and her escorts were still following her usual route home.

Looking at the clock displayed in the upper right corner of her Solid Eye piece, she could see that everything was coming together. By her estimate, when the clock hit the time she was supposed to eliminate her target, the convoy of cars would be right in the stretch of road she wanted her to be on. With her concealing leather duster flapping in the wind as she went along at speeds above what humans were capable of, she followed as closely as she dared.

Three minutes later Shen Xiaoyi's group turned onto the stretch of road that was the designated kill zone and so she doubled her speed to get to the other end of the block in seconds. Once there she dropped four stories to the ground, landing in a crouch, cracking the concrete beneath her feet. Standing up, she trotted with measured steps out of the alley and into the street her target was now driving down, completely unaware of what was about to happen to her.

Once she was in the middle of the road she simply waited for the car convoy to come to a complete stop since, in her opinion, that would be the best time in which to strike at her target. She would need to make one final visual confirmation of the target's presence in the middle car before getting the job over with in order to make sure there were no mistakes. Besides which, it took time for a car to accelerate so, the more speed that bled off from the vehicle, the less likely they'd peel away to get out of the kill zone. Not that any car would be faster than her but she wanted this to be as quick and as clean as possible so complications were completely unwelcome.

Like the fuckin' codename she'd been stuck with, she'd be there and gone in the blink of an eye.

Russia, Transnistria

Military Base, Giles' POV

"This isn't going to be easy," Cortana said through the speakers inside his helmet. "Fifteen hundred soldiers on base, not including the target, eighteen tanks, one hundred and seven armored carriers, forty six anti-aircraft installations, one hundred and seventy three tank destroyer units, nine Mi-8T helicopters, six Mi-24 helicopters, two Mi-2 helicopters, and several airplanes of An-2, An-26 and Yak-18 models. While most of their aircraft are on the ground, there are still some in the air on patrol that could be called back pretty quick. Even with the technological edge we've got, just standing there and taking whatever they could dish out wouldn't be smart."

"Then it's a good thing I won't be just taking it," he said as he looked at the military base wrapped in the hiding abilities of his active camo device. "Got a location on our target?"

"Yep, and you're not going to like it," she replied, bringing up an image of the base's basic layout, complete with a waypoint inside of a building's outline. "He's in the main hangar addressing the troops. It's not quite a full house but there'll still be a lot of bodies between us and Chekov."

"Then we'll need to do something about that."

He already had a basic plan in mind and it centered on the two weapons he had picked from the armory before leaving. The first was a M41 surface-to-surface rocket medium anti-vehicle/assault weapon with the maximum amount of rockets available for him to use as he would. This weapon would be part of the first stage of his plan. Then there was the second weapon on his back but, truth be told, he was worried that it might be a bit of overkill, considering how powerful it was. Sure, in the fictional world in which it came from one shot was enough to take out most aircraft or ground vehicles but the vehicles of the real world were of a decidedly different construction.

They weren't as well armored to say the least.

Still, he needed something that couldn't be intercepted.

The rockets fired by the M41 weren't especially different from the rockets used by conventional military forces in real life and many of the same countermeasures would work as well. If the people Chekov had with him were skilled enough, he could wind up missing his one chance at taking out his target if he used a missile.

What he had instead should make it impossible for interception or evasion.

"The plan is sound," Cortana said, sounding confident enough. "As long as Chekov doesn't get a sudden burst of unconventional thinking and doesn't catch on, this should go fairly well."

"Don't get cocky," he cautioned, not wanting overconfidence to affect his abilities. "With so many hostiles, anything could happen."

"True, there's always an element of uncertainty in any engagement, but I seriously doubt there's anyone in there capable of giving a SPARTAN-II a hard time." Cortana said with moderate agreement in her voice.

"They don't need to give me a hard time," he pointed out as he took the M41 off his back and prepped it for use. "They just need to get in my way long enough for Chekov to get range."

"They'll have to seriously swarm your position for that to work out," she said, not sounding worried. "For Chekov to get out of range he'd have to be riding in something that can get up to speed pretty damn quick and cover a lot of ground in under a minute. I don't see that happening."

He had to grudgingly admit that she was right about that last bit.

Every one of the aircraft he could see scattered about the base needed time to get off the ground and more time to reach their normal cruising speed. The soldiers would have to get pretty close to him and do quite a bit to prevent him from taking aim and firing. It wasn't like they could toss their bodies in the path of the shot and take a hit for the team. The firepower he was packing for his final blow would tear through a human body like it wasn't even there and still have enough strength to take out the target.

After all, there weren't any personal or vehicular shields in this reality.

At least none that weren't owned by Mayfield at the moment.

Willow's POV

Five seconds left.

Four seconds left.

One final check of the wind conditions and the position of the crosshairs on Strom's head to make sure she was ready.

Three seconds left.

Two seconds left.

As if some death god had decided to make things easier for her, Strom came to a stop, making it that much easier to hit him.

One second left.

Breath and… squeeze the trigger.

She put her words into action.

In the blink of an eye the head of Carl Strom exploded like someone had detonated his brain with a mass of TNT.

Before his body hit the ground she moved over to the second container and popped it open to the only thing she'd been able to think of that would allow her to mop up the other witnesses as quickly as possible. Sure, in her mind at least, there was no way for any of the party guests to know that there was anything out of the ordinary about the sniper shot aside from the size of the bullet used but she doubted Mayfield would see things the same way.

The bitch wouldn't be happy with anything less than a massacre of every living soul on the property.

It made her sick what she was about to do but the image of her friends suffering and the memory of their pain being forced into her mind was all it took for her to keep going. Reaching into the container, she grabbed onto the handle of the weapon and pulled out the ultimate in area saturation weapons; the Man-portable M134 Minigun Motoko's ally Batou had used to hold back the Umibozu troops when they assaulted Section Nine headquarters.

Lowering the visor resting on her forehead and pressing a button, the device began to feed her information on remaining targets on the property, allowing her to be far more accurate with the minigun then should've been possible. Starting from the right, she began to lay down fire, with the ammunition being fed from two substantially large drums that had almost required a container too big for the van. One by one she directed fire at the dots on the visor that represented people, not letting up until the dot disappeared, signifying a confirmed kill. There were some scattered furniture and other obstructions on the property that she'd known in advance the other guests would attempt to hide behind but it wouldn't do them any good. When she'd selected this weapon she'd made sure to load it with the most powerful bullets that were compatible with the minigun to deal with that specific obstacle. While one bullet might not be able to penetrate some of the stronger cover, it would steadily chip away at the cover like a chisel, breaking away bits of stone the size of a ping-pong ball. Working her way over to the right side of the property, she did her best to use her ammunition efficiently while at the same time maximizing the body count.

By the time she ran out of bullets for the minigun she'd successfully saturated the entire property but, surprisingly, there were two targets still being shown by the satellite overhead. According to the information they were inside the house and apparently the construction was solid enough to take her high powered bullets without penetrating all the way through. Should she leave it at this? It was only two people who, for all she knew, were fatally wounded and would die soon enough without any extra help from her.

No, people like Mayfield, who she truly was when the cameras weren't on her, they never accepted anything other a perfect following of their orders.

Better to finish this at a distance, she thought as she reached to the back of her neck and pulled out one of her interface wires.

Unlike a lot of the tech she'd hooked up to in past missions, her visor was made from the latest developed by Mayfield's scientists and as such she didn't need to use an socket adaptor. Once she was hooked into her visor she immediately began to hack her way into the orbiting satellite that she'd been using in order to repurpose it for her final two kills of the night. She doubted that Mayfield would've expected her to do this but, as long as this got results, then there'd be nothing to complain about.

It didn't take long for her to get into the house's systems and, just like she'd thought, a lot of the appliances and hardware were computer controlled. Like most people with wealth and power Strom must've felt the need to get all the latest in luxury conveniences and snazzy gadgets, so making it so that he could get breakfast started without even having to get out of bed was only natural. However in this case it provided her with the tools she needed to remove those final two dots from existence and all she needed to do was use them in the correct manner. A quick check confirmed that the stove was a gas version rather than electric so she turned the gas on full but did not let it ignite just yet. She'd need it to fill as much of the surrounding area as possible because, while her final two targets were close to the kitchen, they weren't actually IN the kitchen. She had to wait for the gas to spread far enough before she finally let the spark fly so, while she waited, she on a whim decided to do something exceedingly risky.

Still, she was TIRED of waiting for better chances to show up.

Leaving a monitoring program attached to gas stove, she worked her way through the network in the house and soon found Strom's computer. Cutting her way through the security programs with ease, she threw together a quick Easter egg program before sending it into the computer's memory in one burst. She didn't know how far the investigation into this massacre would go, if they would even bother to check the computer, but it was a chance she was willing to take.

If they could just let the opposing side know the name of their enemy then maybe a more promising opening would reveal itself to take back their freedom.

Turning back to the gas stove, she saw that that the invisible fumes had spread as far as she needed them to and so, with only half a second's reluctance, she commanded the spark to appear.

With all the flames one would expect from a big budget Hollywood action movie, the kitchen and the rooms surrounding it exploded, shattering glass and in some spots taking out chunks of the wall. With this showy send off the final two dots representing living people vanished, leaving nothing but the rough outline of the property and the house.

There was no satisfaction though, no sense of accomplishment.

Just a feeling of being surrounded by darkness with only a faint light to keep her hopes of freedom alive.

Dawn/Cameron's POV

Without a moment's hesitation she grabbed the decorative short sword and then promptly leapt up onto the desk, plunging the tip of the implement into the target's heart.

The weapon was not sharp, she knew this, but sufficient application of brute force ensured successful penetration, thus terminating the target.

Hearing the sound of movement behind her, she turned to see the second man in the room reaching for the gun in his shoulder holster. She pulled the short sword from the chest of her primary target then smoothly threw it through the air to pierce the witness' throat, partially exiting the back of the neck. According to her files on human biology, the man would be dead shortly but there was still a high probability that enough noise had been made to attract the attention of others within earshot.

Getting off the desk, she made her way towards the man, causing a spike in the dying human's fear levels, which resulted in a weak attempt to bring his weapon to bear on her. Pushing the gun hand to the side, she ripped the short sword from his neck in such a way so as to increase the rate of blood loss substantially. After the man fell to the ground she went down to one knee to retrieve his firearm, a Sig Saur P226 9mm pistol, as well as the two spare clips she found after a brief search. Pulling the slide back once to chamber a round, she stood up before walking to the door and exiting the office, finding five agents approaching her with weapons drawn.

"Drop the gun! Do it now!" demanded the forty-something man as he took aim.

Threat level: minimal.

Orders: terminate all witnesses after eliminating primary target.

She took aim at the heart of the lead agent and fired, moving onto the next target once the successful hit was confirmed. After the first two shots the enemy targets opened fire but they did little to affect her movements even as the incoming fire damaged her disguise along with her dermal layer. After she successfully terminated a third agent, the remaining two took cover furniture, most likely re-evaluate their tactics. Strategic simulations indicated that any delay in termination of structure occupants increased likelihood of one or more witnesses escaping.

This would violate standing orders from subject prime Athena.

Moving according to the dictates of her directives, she advanced on the locations of the two remaining members of the first group of targets, with her targeting systems ready to achieve a solid lock. The moment she had a direct line of sight on the first, she took aim and fired a shot into the man's head despite his attempt at evasion. The other target attempted to take advantage of what he no doubt thought was a moment of distraction but her movements proved faster.

He dropped to the ground with a single shot through the heart.

By this time more armed members of the center arrived and most hesitated when they saw the dead as well as the state of her clothes, allowing her to shoot first. Her shots made efficient use of every round in the magazine, smoothly ejecting the first one before sliding in another. When she passed near an office door she used her sensory suite to ascertain if anyone was inside and, if she had a clear shot at the person, she took it. By the time she reached the stairs she was already on her final magazine from the two she'd acquired from her second termination, so she began to prioritize targets with the high probability of having additional ammunition.

Once she had acquired fresh clips her optics informed her that the building occupants had abandoned confrontation and were instead seeking to flee. With the possibility of witnesses acquiring transport and dispersing in multiple directions, she decided that the time had come to implement the precautionary measure she took prior to entering the building. Reaching into her sole intact pocket, something she subtly ensured by using the rest of her endoskeleton as a shield, she withdrew the detonator and pressed the button.

A series of explosions filled the air with noise as the explosives she'd placed in the parking lot before sunrise detonated.

Disguised as bits of trash or placed where they could not be easily seen, her systems estimated a ninety-seven percent probability that all vehicles had been rendered inoperable. As secondary explosions from ignited fuel tanks followed, it was also probable that the fleeing humans had either been terminated or seriously wounded. Nevertheless, subject prime Athena's orders still stood until confirmation had been achieved so, after sliding a fresh magazine into her weapon, she exited the building while using her scanners to detect life signs.

For the ten minutes following her exit she terminated any residual life readings one by one, utilizing the most efficient search pattern possible. By the time that the sound of sirens and approaching vehicles reached her audio receptors, she had terminated many of the remaining life signs, with none remaining within range of her sensors. With her primary and secondary missions accomplished, she now had to withdraw from the area with all speed while avoiding any detection by law enforcers or civilians.

Breaking into a run, she used the files on the surrounding streets, buildings and high traffic areas to minimize the odds of detection as best she could until she arrived at the extraction point twenty minutes later. The side door to the van opened to reveal organic units loyal to subject prime Athena but she barely registered them as she entered the vehicle and sat down. Without a word the van exited the alley it had been waiting for her in and merged with traffic, blending into the background with ease on its way to a private airfield where the transport back to facility prime.

There she would wait for new orders.

Xander's POV

It hurt.

Every second the family of three took to get to the car, every moment he waited for them to enter so that he could get his dark deed over with, hurt him just as much as if he'd been physically stabbed. Inside he was at war with himself as his desire to protect his friends from harm warred with the knowledge that what he was about to do was absolutely wrong. One second he was resolved to carry out his assigned task to keep his friends from being hurt or maybe even executed, and the next he wondered if they'd really want to live knowing that their survival cost three innocent lives.

He knew that they'd been sent on their own missions of assassination but that didn't make his any easier to complete.

Even from as far away as he was, he could hear the trio speaking to each other much like he'd heard many loving families do before. Whatever Jean LaPierre might be involved with or what sort of person he was, it would take quite a bit to convince him that he deserved to die along with his family. Unless they were secretly a part of an international society, all three of them, with the long term goal of outdoing Hitler's concentration camps, death was just too severe by anyone's measure. Yet outright defying Mayfield would only result in harsh repercussions and he didn't have time to think up a way to fake their death in a way that'd convince everyone that mattered. If he'd been given a week and full access to LaPierre's file he might've been able to put something together and maybe even come up with an argument that'd change assassination to kidnapping.

But he didn't have that kind of time.

He hadn't been given that kind of time and he was pretty sure Mayfield had set it up deliberately so that neither he nor any of the others would have the option to come up with non-lethal plans. Classic Sith strategy: stain the hands of the good guys with so much blood it'll make them think they can never go back to who they'd been before. That had been the background plan all along since the very first mission in his opinion and this one was just making it that much easier to see the chains wrapping themselves around their limbs. However, just like a certain emperor, the blonde bitch failed to realize that nothing is more dangerous or more unpredictable than people who think they have nothing left to lose and body full of fury.

Hate was a potent painkiller and, when vengeance mattered more than survival, a person could take a lot and keep on going.

Whether S.E.C.O.N.D finally did what he wanted it to do or Mayfield put in front of the Scoobies a line that even they wouldn't cross to survive, he refused to let them remain slaves forever.

Freedom would be theirs one way or another.

Looking back at his designated target, a mixture of relief and disgust filled him as the trio finally made a move to enter their car. Seconds ticked by as the doors opened. Seconds ticked by as the wife, the daughter and the husband spent their last moments in the land of the living together. Believing it to be the least he could do, he memorized their faces, committed what he'd heard of their voices to memory, in order to ensure that the nightmares he would have in the days to come would be as vivid as possible. It'd be hell but, with all the lives he'd taken so far, it was probably for the best that he get a taste of what he'd be condemned to after he died.

When finally the entire family was in the car with doors closed, he pressed the button on the detonator and watched the consequences of his actions.

Flames engulfed the vehicle.

It was pushed off the ground only to slam into the ceiling of the parking level they were on.

Landing with a crash, everyone would conclude no one could survive such a blast.

The odds of there being enough for burial were bad considering the forces unleashed by the two explosions.

Feeling sick, he could barely bring himself to put the detonator back into the equipment belt he'd worn for the mission before making his way out of the parking garage. Unlike the others, he had to use the shadows whenever possible to give the cloaking ability of the nanosuit time to recharge but, thankfully, he didn't have far to go. The extraction vehicle was stationed only three blocks away and, once he was inside, it was smooth sailing from there.

Too bad he couldn't say the same for his thoughts.

Too bad he couldn't say the same for his life.

Buffy's POV

Zoom… enhance… target confirmed. she thought as her Solid Eye equipment confirmed Shen Xiaoyi's presence in the middle car.

Before doubt could creep into her mind, she cast off her coat and pulled out her high frequency blade from its sheath, charging the convoy of three cars. It must've looked like magic for the occupants of the vehicles, crossing the distance so quickly, but the death coming their way was all too real. As soon as she got within range of the lead vehicle she began swinging her blade back and forth, cutting it up like cucumber slices, stepping onto the wreckage as she went in order to go further. While to some the length of her blade was insufficient to reach those inside, the truth was that the electric current being sent through it could extend its range by almost seventy-five percent. It couldn't be lengthened indefinitely because it drained energy like nothing else but, when you could move fast enough to deflect bullets, there was no need to keep it going that long.

One after another she sliced through the entire convoy, leaving nothing but car slices behind her, the parts that had been touched by her blade glowing orange. As she left the rearmost car in convoy sliced to pieces, she touched down on the ground and slammed on the breaks, causing sparks to fly from the friction. Once she came to a stop, she looked back the way she'd come just in case there were survivors and could indeed see sliced bodies through the window frames.

To her shock, though, six bodyguards had somehow managed to get out of their vehicles before she could get to them and already they were drawing their guns. Anger rose in her that the bloody mission she had been sent would now be drawn out rather than be over in the blink of an eye, but fortunately there were six targets for her to work that anger out on. Charging the closest one, she almost negligently batted away the bullets being sent her way and she cut through him from hip to shoulder. It happened so fast it took the man a second to realize what had happened before the two halves fell apart in opposite directions. The remaining men were split up two to one to two, preventing her from taking them all out in one fell swoop. Worse than that, their positions allowed them to catch her in a crossfire, forcing her to put some effort in deflecting their bullets, but she managed just the same.

Seeing a shard of metal close by, she kicked it up to about neck level and then, with a reverse spin kick, sent it shooting through the air, burying itself three inches deep into the chest of the bodyguard who was on his own. He probably didn't have enough time to even think before he fell dead to the ground.

The remaining bodyguards were shaken by this development, causing their rate of fire to increase, almost making it sound like there was a single gun going full auto.

It didn't do them any good.

Sprinting, she went for the pair of bodyguards with the fewest obstructions between the two of them, reversing the grip on her blade as she went. Bringing the blade up in front of her in a proper ready position, she adjusted it as needed to deflect incoming shots and she leapt. With the flash of the blade she passed them, landing ten feet behind them but then, like puppets whose strings had been cut, both men dropped to the ground, their heads jostled off when their knees touched the ground.

Looking back at her work, she couldn't help but feel some satisfaction at the cleanness of the cut that happened faster than the human eye could perceive. She'd never have been able to do it as just an ordinary Slayer with the usual blades available to the Council and it made her look at her high frequency blade, wishing that she could keep it once they were all back to normal. Sadly she knew that it needed electric current to work its magic and no battery on Earth would be practical for a night of slayage. Seeing the light play off the blade, off the blood decorating it, she could see a certain beauty to it but a bullet whizzed by her head before she could think further on it. Turning her head, she could see that the two final bodyguards were looking at her, fear plastered all over their bodies as they tried to kill her.

Their fear…she thought as she brought her blade up.

…is SO sweet! Jackie said from the darkness of her mind.

Leaping into the air, she tucked into a ball once she reached the apex of her leap and placed her blade into the foot clamp between the balls of her right foot and its heel. Then, just like she'd wanted, she came down on one of the remaining bodyguards just as he looked up, mouth gaping open in shock.

It was a perfect sheath for her blade if she did say so herself.

She slid it right into the man's mouth and, with her weight added to the speed, the blade sunk into the flesh until it got to the hilt and her foot. With her artificial muscles she flung her upper body forward and she dug with the talons in her fingers into the dirt, lifting the impaled man off the ground. With instinct alone she swung him so hard in the direction of the last bodyguard that the body slid off the blade, hurtling through the air until it hit the man. In a tangle of bloody limbs the last survivor of a six man bodyguard team hit the ground and soon began screaming in terror has his tenuous professional state shattered.

Pouncing on the man just as he got out from under his head comrade, she pinned him to the ground and looked him straight in the eye.

"Shhhh! You'll wake the neighbors," she said with mock warning before she solidified her grip on his shoulders and PULLED.

The screams reaching a new frightening high pitch as she literally tore the man in half down the middle, holding a bloody mass of meat in each hand. Throwing them to the ground with a little contempt, she was caught in haze of… something… but then she heard the click-clack of feet desperately trying to run away. Turning her head, she saw a woman running and she realized that there was one more person she had to kill.

I could just run her down… but that would be too boring now.

Sheathing her blade, she scooped a fallen guard's pistol up quickly off the ground and could tell by the weight of it that it almost had a full clip in it. With casualness she took aim at the fleeing woman. For a moment she couldn't decide where to shoot so, on a whim, she fired the next time it was lined up with something and waited to see what'd happen.

"Aaahhhh!" Shen screamed as the bullet tore through her right lower leg, causing her to fall to the ground.

Hmmmm… maybe I was too quick to reject Xan's idea for adding guns to the Slayer arsenal, she thought as she began to walk towards her target. Even if they can't kill a vamp or a demon, the right one can cause pain or disable them long enough to finish them off.

Indeed, while some demons might have natural armor that was capable of protecting them from smaller caliber weapons, if someone were to fire an armor piercing round, that'd go right through that armor. If they needed more then they'd just keep upping the caliber or type of gun as needed. Yes! It made perfect sense! Making a mental note she took aim once more when Xiaoyi got onto her sole uninjured leg to try to hobble away and took care of that with one shot through the knee. The woman cried out in pain as she fell to the floor but, whether it was due to the shock or the adrenaline, the Chinese woman still tried to pull herself to safety with just her arms.

She couldn't help but chuckle a bit at how stupid the woman was.

An old man with arthritis could keep up with her as slow as she was going!

It'd be cruel to have her last moments be filled with the illusion that she could've gotten away.

With that in mind she fired four shots, one to each elbow and shoulder, immobilizing her prey completely but only giving the screams of pain new life. Closing the distance between the two of them, she soon arrived at the writhing woman's side and, with a light kick (well, light for her), knocked the woman onto her back.

"Ooops! Looks like I cracked a couple of your ribs there," she said conversationally at the sound of the bones breaking. "Don't worry, though. The pain won't last much longer."

To the woman's credit she finally seemed to find her inner fire as she glared with fury and defiance in her eyes.

"Qù xià dì yù gǒurìde!" Shen Xiaoyi growled in Chinese or something.

"Sorry but I don't understand Chinese," she said, bringing the gun up to point at the woman's head. "Can you understand this?"

Two quick shots, a bullet into each eye, finally terminated her target but, as she looked at the new member of the dead, she felt an odd sensation of familiarity about this scene. It was… odd… because she couldn't remember anything like this scene.

A siren cut through her thoughts and in an instant the world snapped into unbelievable clarity. Shock filled her as she remembered not only her actions of the last couple of minutes but also her words and thoughts. It wasn't like a blackout but rather like the core traits of who she was as a person, as a human being, had for a time done a one eighty. The second her eyes fell upon the gun in her hand she dropped it like it was a white hot piece of steel fresh from the forge and backed away from it on somewhat shaky legs.

Wha… wha… what did I… what did I just do?! she thought as she looked about at the destruction, the carnage and the death.

Her mind was in conflict between memories showing her precisely what had happened and her refusal to believe that she'd ever commit such bloodthirsty acts. Plunging into denial as best she could, she took off for the extraction point, only peripherally aware of the fact that she was taking the route that'd give her the best concealment options. Neither person nor car nor helicopter would see her as she moved to the van parked ten blocks away and, once she was inside, she continued her efforts to deny what her memories were telling her.

It was ridiculous!

IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE!

Those two phrases kept repeating themselves for quite a while but, as time passed, her mind stopped believing the bullshit she was trying to force on it.

It had happened and, not for the first time in her life, she mourned as another part of her innocence died a painful death inside of her.

Giles' POV

"Showtime, Caveman." Cortana said as the timer finally hit zero on his HUD.

He squeezed the trigger on the M41 and watched as the rocket shot out at impressive speeds towards the helicopter. However he didn't stand and watch because, in order for his plan to work, he had to get to the next position as quickly as possible and, fortunately for a SPARTAN-II, that was pretty damn fast. Thankfully he was far enough away from the perimeter fence and had enough surrounding forest to keep the soldiers on the base from noticing the disturbing of the environment he caused while he ran, cloaked, to the next position. The moment he arrived he took aim at the first available target to show up in the weapon's crosshairs and fired, once more running to the next position the second the rocket left the launcher. Again and again he repeated the process because it was crucial to his strategy to keep the Russian soldiers from focusing on any one location.

That was an absolute necessity if his 'ghost army' tactic was going to work.

By the time he got to the fourth position and prepared to fire, the entire base was on alert with troops scrambling out of every building, weapons at the ready. Peripherally he could tell that they were trying to find the source of the attack along with the soldiers that'd been outside at the time, but with his active camo online and the forest obscuring his position, that'd be impossible. Nevertheless, now that he'd drawn the most of them out, he'd have to be a bit more selective with his targets in order to inspire the necessary fear.

"Fuel tank at ten o'clock!" Cortana declared, causing him to instantly adjust his aim.

He found it in seconds and, as soon as his crosshairs hit the center of the fuel tank, no doubt used to refuel the aircraft, he fired. Even as he ran to the next position, he could both hear the blast as well as see the brief surge in orange light caused by the flames. He imagined that it made quite the impression on the soldiers, given the initial explosion and the damage it did to the surrounding area around the fuel tank. He could hear orders being issued in Russian from multiple sources and thankfully Cortana was providing him with English translations in real time, with different colored text to signify different people. The base personnel were moving as quickly as they could to take up a defensive posture and apparently had fallen for his ruse, believing that they were under attack from more than one person. However nothing had come up so far to indicate that Chekov was being evac'd from the area, so he needed to turn up the heat even more.

Arriving at the fifth position, he took in the current situation and the base with close attention to the spots with the highest troop concentrations.

There! he thought as he spotted a particularly large group near one of the anti-aircraft installations.

Firing a rocket at it, he moved onto the sixth location and, after his first step, he heard explosions as not only his rocket but also those racked on top of the anti-aircraft installation detonated. This definitely stirred things up if the added commotion was anything to go by and now some of the soldiers were firing blindly into the forest in an attempt to hit him. Too bad for them that he was moving at SPARTAN speeds.

It wasn't until he'd fired his second last rocket that things finally started moving in the right direction.

"They're evacing Chekov by chopper." Cortana declared once she intercepted the necessary data.

"Good. One last rocket to fire then we wait."

Deciding to take out another one of the anti-aircraft installation, he took aim and fired before moving to the final destination that had been picked out since it'd give him the best shot at taking out Chekov's escape vehicle, whether it was by land or air. He'd been a little worried en route that letting up pressure after the final shot would cause them to reconsider getting Chekov out of the area but dismissed it. It was standard military tactics to soften up an enemy with heavy weapons before charging in with the main force, so the Russians likely wouldn't take any chances with their senior officer.

Slinging the M41 onto his back, he brought forth the weapon he'd chosen specifically for the purpose of taking out a vehicle carrying his Russian target; the M6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle, also known as the Spartan Laser.

Some might consider it overkill but since failure was not an option for him, he decided that overkill was better than underkill. When added to the fact that the laser was designed to punch through UNSC and Covenant vehicles, he figured it was pretty safe to say that one shot would be all it'd take to do the job.

Keeping his eyes peeled for his target, it took a minute but eventually he saw Chekov being escorted out of the building where he'd been addressing the troops by give men covering all angles of approach. They were leading him to one of the Mi-24 helicopters that was positioned in what they probably believed was the least likely to get hit spot.

Too bad for them that he'd chosen a spot that gave him clear line of sight to all of the aircraft.

He waited until the chopper began to lift up off the ground before taking aim with the Spartan Laser, choosing to make the impact point right where he guessed Chekov would be sitting. If he was right then, once the target was hit, it'd ignite any liquid flammables close by, taking out the entire Mi-24 along with everyone on board. Seconds passed by as the chopper soared higher and higher but, once it was high enough up that no one could bail out without killing themselves in the fall, he fired. After a short second or two of charging a crimson beam shot out of the nonlinear rifle, punching through the chopper like it was made of tinfoil. The beam had gone through without any resistance whatsoever and, just like he'd predicted, it'd lit up every flammable liquid being piped through the aircraft. With an impressive explosion that tore the chopper to pieces, flaming bits raining down to the ground with nothing being bigger than a basketball remaining.

"Mission accomplished," he said though it felt so bitter letting those words spring from his lips.

Given the type of woman Mayfield had proven herself to be, he knew the odds of Chekov deserving death were slim to none and, with no details, who knew how many loved ones would be in mourning in the weeks to come. For years it had been his duty as a Watcher to protect humanity from the hostile demons and supernatural entities that existed throughout the world. When he was assigned to Buffy, it became his duty to do all in his power to support her in her Calling regardless of the risk to himself. Later, as the head of the New Council, it became his duty to administrate the organization to maximize the effectiveness in order to ensure that they did as much good as they possibly could while minimizing needless casualties. The memories he had inherited from Master Chief Petty Officer John One One Seven told him that the SPARTAN-II took his duty to defend humanity very seriously. The man often took reckless chances and disregarded his own personal safety when that was the only way to save lives.

Now… between his own memories and the ones that'd come with his transformation into the Master Chief, he felt as though he'd betrayed everything he'd ever stood for.

Slinging the SPARTAN laser onto his back, he withdrew from the military base's perimeter and began to make his way towards the extraction point where the cloaked Pelican awaited him. As soon as he was sure that he was well outside the range of any prying eyes, organic or electronic, he turned off his active camo as it was no longer required. Trudging through the wild, it took twenty minutes to reach the UNSC created aircraft and, once he was inside, the rear hatch closed allowing the transport to rise into the air.

Sitting down on one of the seats especially made to withstand the weight of an armored SPARTAN, he descended into thought with nothing else left to do.

"Endure, Chief," Cortana said with weary tone. "Endure like SPARTANS always have and wait for opportunity to come your way."

He took what solace he could in her words and used them to shore up his spirit.

His soul was strong but even the mightiest of structures could be made to fall, given enough time.