Disclaimer: I own nothing present (Locations, Characters, etc.) in the following story, I intend to make no profit off of it. Please don't sue me, there is nothing to get anyway.
Spoilers: Buffy the Vampire Slayer thru Season 7, Angel the Series thru Season 5
Author's note: As with all of my stories, suggestions about future plot development's are welcome and wanted, Reviews of any kind are neat as well.
To all of my reviewers and followers: Thanks for reading, and all of the encouragement.
To Hell with the World
Chapter 8: Office Politics, Los Angeles responds, and the War begins.
As soon as Angel had told Wesley to take Fred and lock themselves in an office, Wesley's 'Fred' connection and reaction went into overdrive. He was able to find some weapons. There were Wolfram & Hart security people all around. Most had multiple means of defense, on the unlikely chance that their primary gun failed.
Fred and Wesley both collected pistols. They began heading upstairs, Wesley was hoping his office was more secure. It's location, access to his own personal stash of weapons, and the proximity to a small library with heavy doors and no windows gave it high marks for safety. He was partially right. Until they reached the hallway to his office.
Between them and the door, there was a single infected person, the young man who had started the cataclysm in the steno pool. He had left the area because there were no more living people around. He had followed someone who had fled this way, but she had escaped. Now he smelled new prey that was near.
Wesley turned to Fred and whispered "We're going to run for it, try to go right by that guy, don't stop for anything."
Fred glanced around the corner, saw what Wesley was talking about, and nodded.
The zombie heard and saw two people moving towards him. One pulled up and waited, while the other and smaller one tried to run past him. He lunged at her, while the other made a loud noise, and the zombie felt himself spun around by a shot to the shoulder, pushed back by a shot to the chest, and finally dropped to the ground with a wound to his leg.
Wesley was pleased with his shooting, and that Fred was safely at the office. She had the door open and was waiting for him, her gun trained on the fallen creature. It swiped at Wesley as he moved near, and Fred rewarded it with a shot to the neck that almost tore its head off. It went down and stayed that way.
Wesley made it into his office. After shutting and locking the door he went to his weapons cabinet and retrieved two shotguns. Handing one to Fred he told her their next move "We're going to your office, I don't how many of those things are in the building." He also grabbed two belts for ammo and holsters for their pistols. Fred's gun belt looked out of place when paired with her skirt. Wesley noted it would be more appropriate if she'd changed earlier, and the sooner she changed, the better.
Fred glanced at the heavy gun nervously and moved closer to Wesley, if more creatures showed up, closer was better "What the hell was that? And why my office, aren't we safe here?"
Wesley flicked his gaze to the door for a moment before answering "I'll explain everything when we get to somewhere more defensible. Your office has a door at the top of a small stairway, only one creature at a time can have a go at it, and you have those nice big windows that look out over your lab, we can shoot from there if we must."
Fred posed a final question "How about the hardware, are we going hunting?"
"You saw what the pistol rounds did, I only want to shoot once to stop one of those things. Just promise me something, if anything should happen to me, get away, do not help me, keep yourself safe." Wesley was using a template to look up a spell, it would open a portal that would drag him and any infected with him into another dimension, as a last resort. He would die, but he wouldn't endanger Fred or anyone else.
Fred wondered at his sudden pessimistic outlook, but decided to let it rest for now.
Wesley led Fred to the door, and listened. There were still sounds outside the building, the rapid echoes of variable amounts of gunfire, as well as all of the other sounds of a city turned into a battleground. Inside the building there were the sounds of Angel and Spike and the security team sweeping the building floor by floor and in each room.
But Wesley tuned those out, he focused on the door right in front of him, listening for anything that might indicate that something was waiting for them when they opened it. From what he couldn't hear, there was nobody out there.
So Wesley took Fred's hand and opened the door, he was right, it was clear. They moved quickly through the building. They only had to stop once, to deal with a creature that had just broken out of his former office. It was purely by accident, it involved pounding hands and an elbow that hit the doorknob. Unfortunately for him, when he finally got free, he was right in the path that Wesley had taken. Wesley turned it into half a creature with a point blank shot to the gut.
They reached Fred's office without further incident.
The lab wasn't empty, but with the building on lock-down, and with a number of managers and supervisors out for the day, the people in the lab were not focused. No creatures had made it to the lab. It was probably for the best. The people working there could not have defended themselves if they had wanted to, which they might not, seeing the creatures as something to study. The biting, tearing of flesh, and general murderous behavior would only serve as cautions to the scientists attempting to study them.
Wesley and Fred settled into her office. They were watching the door from chairs, side by side and offset from Fred's desk. They had a good view of the lab below and if need be they could re-orient towards the door with a look and swivel.
Fred spoke first. "What are those creatures we shot?"
"They are what Gunn called about when we were at your place." Wesley didn't look at her, he was still concentrated on the door. Just waiting for the shaking and banging that would signify an unwanted visitor.
Fred looked at Wesley thinking 'After we kicked Illyria out of me, and their blue coloring, kind of a giveaway.' To Wesley she said "Charles told us that the police had these things contained, but from what I'm hearing now and what we just saw, I'm having doubts."
"It would appear so, and I suspect it's not a localized problem. Angel and Spike seemed to know what they were dealing with when they headed off to tend to that emergency earlier" Wesley could see that the few remaining lab technicians had all stopped their fitful work, the noises in the building having finally gotten to them.
Fred looked over with concern "Not local, as in more than just around here? I remember Cordy telling me that people would die between here and where Illyria is supposed to stay."
"At the very least, this problem is present in a length of this country as well as parts of England. She did say they would die, not return as they have." Wesley briefly thought of the implications of what he said, he wished he had more information, but for now he would have content himself with worrying over their safety. The rest could be dealt with later, if they survived.
Fred brought him out of his thinking by asking "Wes, this might be the wrong time to ask this, but what led you to use those spells and such to save me?" and she thought 'I know there's all sorts of feelings for me.' Fred thought back again to Wesley's death, how he had smiled when Illyria had transformed, how even the shadow of her had seemed to remove him from what was happening. He was bleeding to death, in incredible pain, and he didn't seem to notice. He was happy to see her again despite his situation.
"You're not wrong there, I remember what I told Angel about his uncertainty with Nina" Wesley grinned at the memory and it seemed like it was a lifetime ago "I'll say the same again, only in my case it's you."
Fred forgot the door for a moment and loosened her ready grip on her gun. "Huh?"
"You make all of this worth it, the whole dangerous lot. Every time you lit up at a new discovery. Every time I saw your courage. Every time I saw you show care and concern. But that brings up a question I have. Lorne has told me twice now that you saved more than yourself. What did he mean by that?" Wesley too relaxed, the sounds in the building were lessening. Either Angel and Spike were successful in their sweep or the two lovers would have to defend themselves in short order.
Fred blushed at the praise. Then she came back to the question "I saw, Cordy showed me, after I was gone, you were all killed later."
"Is that all, you wanted to save us from some terrible fate?" Wesley was thoughtful, that would explain some of what Lorne was trying to say, but the empathetic demon was oddly specific.
Fred looked back at what she was shown, and the indefinable something that had made Cordelia so happy at the end "It was many things. First, my parents came to visit. And you had to be the one to tell them about what happened to me."
"Dear lord..." Wesley could think of all sorts of horrible duties he would have to perform in the wake of Fred's death, that would possibly top them all. Losing a child was devastating, and being the one to deliver such news would be truly crushing. Fred had told him he would be beset by grief, but to see her parents undergo the same, that right there was reason enough for Fred's decision.
Fred continued "Exactly, but next in line was you. I saw you break. You didn't just cry over me, you went kinda loopy, fought a battle you didn't want to win, and finally you suffered a fate worse than just death."
"I can imagine some of that, but that last part, what do you mean?" Wesley was shaken, hearing of those possibilities just clarified how important Fred's choice was, grief he could understand, but to descend into irrationality, his mind was his one saving grace. And Fred wasn't even finished.
That was right and Fred was trying to figure out how best to describe something that amounted to Wesley ceasing to exist in any form. She decided to start by making him happy for a second "You know that connection you have with me?"
"Yes?" Since becoming aware of it, he had examined his actions in years past, and found his link with Fred almost always in operation. The only times it had been overridden were when he was possessed in some form. Even in the case of Billy's infection, he had a chance to kill Fred, but instead opted to kiss her.
Fred reached over and grabbed Wesley's hand, this would be hard for him. Never mind that it wasn't going to happen now, she had still seen it, and he deserved to know the truth "Well, right before you died, you were told that we would be together. But Cordy never mentioned you when she was talking about all of us in the afterlife. And she was so happy when I chose. I'm pretty sure once you realized I wasn't there, it hurt something terrible. The reason you weren't there, I think you ended everything. Souls aren't meant to be broken and kept apart." Fred kept the details to a minimum, she was drawing conclusions from incomplete information. And Wesley could be spared some of his more disturbing experiences at the hands of Illyria and those that he did to himself.
"I do believe you're right, they would be one thing that should remain unbroken." Wesley was glad that she had taken his hand. He wished the situation allowed for more than a simple touch. But it was a great comfort. Fred had prevented grief, madness, and for their friends certain death. And he was spared a final oblivion. He turned to look her in the eyes. She had made an impossible choice, and he would never be able to do enough to balance the scales. The least he could do at the moment was make sure she understood. "You made the right choice, regardless of what comes, never forget that."
Fred had wondered a little about that, but having Wesley tell her so was nice. The decision wasn't easy. However; after seeing what she did, there was not much conflict about it. "I won't, I really can't, Cordy didn't hold back. I saw most everything."
Wesley would've returned with something that expressed how glad he was for Cordelia's assistance. He didn't though, Fred was well aware of his feelings. "You..." He was cut short by two things. The first were the sounds in the city. They changed from sporadic and irregular gunfire to a more sustained rapid variety, accompanied by the sharp cracks of larger weapons and the dull thudding of explosions. Wesley was reminded of newscasts in war-torn countries, and some movies had seen since coming to L.A.
The second was a knock at the door with a yelled "Wes, Fred, are you alright? You can open the door now." Wesley moved and unlocked the door, thereby letting Angel in.
Angel looked between his two friends. The last time he had really seen them together was before he had left for the Deeper Well. He recalled Wesley's affection and concern. How they were both on display so that even the vampire could see them. And Fred, she was convinced that she would be saved.
As he saw them now, they had changed. He couldn't exactly place it. But he did know the undercurrent of their looks. They were haunted by something. A shared harrowing experience. But first, he had to tell them something important "So, we swept the building, no more weird dead creatures roaming around. We killed all of the ones we found."
"That's great news, so what now?" Wesley let relief flood over him. As far as he knew, everyone was safe, for now. As long as the building remained on lock-down. No more of the creatures could get in.
Angel was relieved as well, but he still had questions and it was time get Wesley to start researching them "Actually, when me and Spike were in England we were forced to do something, I need you to look into it."
"Of course, though I believe I already know what you're referring to. In light of that I have a message from an old friend: You're still a champion, don't brood over it." Wesley knew that wouldn't be enough, having ones free will subverted was a violation, but he was hoping the identity of the messenger would distract Angel from his predicament.
Angel thought for a moment, the message sounded familiar, the last time he was given one like that it was from... "Who gave you the message?"
"Cordelia, she also helped me save Fred." Wesley couldn't help but turn and smile when he said that. Even though it wasn't exactly true, Fred had a big hand in saving herself, but Angel didn't need to know the whole story yet.
Angel paled, or would have if he could, and growled "Wait, it was her? She caused this, and you helped!" Angel had risen to yelling as he neared his point.
"Yes, of course I helped, and it was her and other higher powers. Not the Powers that Be, they didn't want to help, how could I just sit by while Winifred withered away to nothing!?" Wesley didn't mention that the choice hadn't been entirely his own, that he couldn't make another, that was another thing that could be dealt with later. As well he matched Angel's anger with his own.
Angel didn't back down, and the mention of Cordelia did not have the desired effect "Do you know what you've done!? I can't believe you Wes, again, this is just like with..." Angel stopped, as bad as the situation was, mentioning his son would just lead to questions that couldn't be answered.
"Like with what, Angel? Like with Connor? That was another thing Cordelia did for me." Wesley understood better than ever what Angel had meant after Wesley had killed his father look-alike cyborg. 'I certainly do make the hard decisions'
Angel sputtered in fury and shock while Fred spoke up "And Angel..." but Wesley cut her off with another point.
"There's nothing to be done about that now, it's finished, how bad is it out there?" Wesley gave a look to Fred that told her to keep quiet for now.
Angel sighed, in this case, Wesley was right. "As far as I know, these things are all over the place. When we returned from England, our pilots told us there was an emergency order, they were supposed to re-route to somewhere secure, they decided not to do that, and we made it back here. So about Connor. You got your memories back? Did anyone else?"
"As far as I know, you and I are the only ones who know." Wesley glanced sharply over at Fred hoping she wouldn't say anything, he was thankful she remained silent.
Angel wasn't quite ready to deal with the fallout of everyone finding out that their minds had been tampered with, and bringing up Connor caused him to become concerned about his son for the first time in months. Where was he? Was he okay? "I'm going to check on security, and then I'll start trying to find out where Connor is." Angel turned and smiled "And Fred, about what I said before, I'm happy you're okay, I just wish there was another way."
"Me too, now off with you, me an' Wes hafta to sort something out." Fred was wondering about Wesley taking on all of the responsibility for her rescue.
After Angel left she rounded on Wesley and hit him with a glare "What the hell was that? I thought I had something to say about whether or not I lived?"
Wesley stared at her, and grinned, that threw Fred off. What he said next did more "Fred, remember what happened after I lost Connor, how long it took for everyone to trust me even a little bit?"
"Well yeah, but why does that matter?" Fred reviewed that time. She couldn't quite see the connection.
Wesley regarded Fred. All decked out with weaponry, looking a bit tired from her experiences, and still possessed of a beauty that still had him captivated. "I want everyone to think it was my decision. I've been on the receiving end of this kind of scorn before. You don't deserve it in any form. After what you saw, and being who you are, I doubt you could make another choice."
Fred blushed again "Well, you're right, and thanks for doing that, Angel can get kinda scary."
Wesley became pensive, he well remembered Angel calmly and deliberately trying to kill him. Hearing him yell that Wesley was a dead man. With Wesley knowing there was nothing he could do to defend himself.
Fred saw this and drew closer to him, intending to show him just how much she appreciated all he had done for her in the past day. They had barely started kissing when an agonizing scream echoed through the building.
Fred drew back and said softly "Oh crap, I forgot about Knox."
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As Fred and Wesley were running, fighting, and engaging in heartfelt conversation one of their friends was having a no less terrifying and strange experience.
Gunn wondered at being called to the White Room. It was made more likely by the current crisis. He thought back to the last time he went there. Trying and failing to convince the conduit to help them with Fred. What could the Senior Partners possibly want now?
He didn't have long to wait.
After the elevator doors closed and Gunn was surrounded by the ivory light of the aptly named room, he waited for the conduit to appear.
His first indication that he wasn't alone was a light clapping. Gunn turned all the way around without seeing anyone or anything responsible for the noise. The clapping kept getting closer and louder.
The figure that shimmered into view was familiar. The last time Gunn had seen her, it was in the building and she was offering them jobs they had no business taking.
It wasn't that she was here now, or that she had replaced the mirror image of himself. It was her jovial smile, and the ongoing applause. Apparently she thought he had done something deserving of congratulations.
Since there was nobody else around, Gunn had to come to the conclusion that she was the new conduit to the Senior Partners.
"What the hell are you smiling for, Lilah?" Gunn didn't have any special animosity towards her, but her attitude was infuriating all on it's own.
Lilah stopped her acclaim and her smile wavered a bit as she offered "Why counselor, that's not a very good question. You should be examining why I amsmiling."
"Alright, why are you happy?" Gunn with a barely concealed growl.
Lilah's smile morphed into her own superior form of smirk "This apocalypse is ironic, out of everyone, I would've never pegged the twig and my former flame with starting this whole thing. I mean come on, you guys were always trying to be heroes, and not only do you let an Old One out to play, you make the worst possible decisions." Lilah turned in a slow circle, seeing beyond the room. Her status as the conduit gave her access to some unique abilities. "If only you could see it, so much pain and desperation. You and your friends made all of this possible."
"Why am I here? Is this just some gloating session?" Gunn spat out, if she was going to waste his time, he had other things to worry about.
Lilah's smirk faded and she adopted a more professional expression "Oh sorry, I got caught up in all of this, it's not everyday I get to come here. And never in this capacity. However; I do have a message from the Senior Partners. They are disappointed. You've potentially ruined one of their best long term investments."
"What would that be? On that note, what are they going to do about it?" Gunn was a little relieved and apprehensive at the same time. The Senior Partners could provide some real help with this problem. With the resources they possessed, they might be able to deal with this Illyria situation completely and soon. However, they could also turn that power on Angel, Gunn, and all of those associated with them.
Lilah looked at Gunn like she was seeing a new hire just out of law school, someone who didn't have a clue as to what was really going on "To the first question, Earth and humanity. They've provided stable returns for a long time. For the second, they are going to do nothing. At least they're not going to do anything to you guys."
"What will they do?" Gunn was settling in now, not a waste of time, but he still wanted answers.
Lilah responded "Well Charles, they have decided to pull out of this dimension. As many resources as they can gather in a day's time. They'll leave this dimension, let Illyria and the humans fight it out, and then deal with whoever wins."
"You've got to be kidding me. Just like that, they're gonna tuck tail and run. We could really use some help here." Gunn was smarting over Lilah's use of his first name, only Fred ever used it regularly. With her it was cute. With Lilah or anyone else for that matter, it made Gunn want to knock their teeth in.
Lilah smirked again, this was fun "Well, we are going to send some of our elite representatives your way tomorrow. They will give you and all of our other branches some final help before they vamoose. Actually I'm supposed to be there to greet them. Let's go and give Angel the good news."
"Wait, you're sticking around?" Gunn didn't like this development at all, and realized he should gather some more information "Why?"
Lilah towards the elevator "Well yeah, this is going to be so entertaining. Watching your little group deal with an actual apocalypse, not one that you stopped in it's infancy, but one that is full blown and beyond the quick fix. And hey, seeing Wesley and the twig he was pining over, there's more fun right away. As to why, I am going to be the new liaison to the Senior Partners. I can 'help' you guys because of that."
"If you hurt anybody, I'll put you down and I don't want to think about what Angel will do to you." Gunn was wondering how Lilah would deal with Wes and Fred being together. Also, how powerful was Lilah now?
Lilah laughed over her shoulder and without turning around said "You go ahead and try, I'm actually about as vulnerable as Eve, however; if you kill me or let me die then all of the help we are going to give you will disappear. Don't worry, I won't have to lift a finger to watch you guys fall apart."
Gunn didn't respond. Instead he just followed Lilah to the elevator while thinking 'great, like we don't have enough problems'
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The Los Angeles Police Department started the day with roughly 5,000 officers on duty. It was a normal day, in fact it was so average as days went that something just had to ruin it.
It started late in the day, actually at the worst possible moment. The calls began to come in just as the major shift change-over started to happen.
The day shift went off-duty as the night shift entered the maelstrom that was keeping law and order in a sprawling and very large city. As it turned out, the day shift was lucky. When Illyria's infection swept the globe, nothing happened at first. And then emergency calls flooded the dispatch center for the city.
As the police and paramedics responded to each call, "officer down" reports nearly overwhelmed the dispatch center.
That is until one patrol cop hit upon the solution with a frantic and excited yell over the radio "Go for the fucking head, that'll put'em down." Dispatch got this information out to everyone, after that they called in all off-duty officers to make good the losses suffered in the first clashes with the newest threat to the city.
Dispatch and the remaining administrators of the department also had to deal with a sudden call-up of the National Guard, which further depleted their forces. By the time everything was sorted out, the department had around 8,000 officers. They concentrated on setting up cordon and containment lines around the larger hospitals and other places where the infected massed in the greatest numbers. A Lakers game that night became especially important.
The police worked on getting uninjured people out of those places while killing any creatures that tried to breach their lines. They were only partially successful, some of the people that escaped later turned. Nobody quite knew what was happening, just that those who were infected had cannibalistic tendencies after they transformed.
By the time night had fallen, things had seemed to settle down. Until the various cordon lines started to break, one after another. Lack of ammunition combined with the police being struck from two sides led to these multiple collapses. At the same time the dispatch center and administration building were overrun. The same issues that plagued the Wolfram & Hart building hit these two command and control offices. Unfortunately, the police and emergency services were so busy responding to calls, that they had few people to spare for security at these two important installations.
The force, already reeling from their response being overwhelmed and suffering horrendous losses, was now without direction. Eventually the rest of the police would have disappeared as they left to defend their loved ones, or were picked off one by one. This didn't happen, because before the situation could deteriorate further a voice came up on the radio over all frequencies with a single command "All units, if able, report to locations on West Manchester Avenue."
Thankfully for the police, the person who made this call was the Commanding Officer for the South Central Region. An old hand at dealing with gang violence. He was well prepared to deal with the kind of mass homicides that were occurring this night. He had chosen the rally point because it was to the north of LAX airport, which had an unusual amount of activity. There were flights outgoing with none incoming. The avenue in question also ran the breadth of the city, with one end touching the sea.
There were some nights that this person, Donnie Pearson, wished he were back in Vietnam. He had nightmares, sure. But back when he was over there, and he saw an enemy, he had leave to kill them. Now with the LAPD, he had to arrest people and follow due process.
This was one of those nights, at least when he was over there, he didn't have to worry about his family being in danger. Only this time he could use his military training. Granted, the last time he saw actual ground combat was in 1972, acting as an adviser and liaison officer to a South Vietnamese battalion. As a freshly minted second lieutenant, he wasn't given much authority or leeway. However; no matter the years or differences in location, the fundamentals were still the same. Prevent the enemy from closing with and destroying his forces. Fire and maneuver would be in heavy use for the remainder of the night. It helped that the infected had to get within arms' reach to do any damage.
By the time the worn out and nearly decimated remnants of the LAPD fought or just ran their way to the designated street. They mustered barely more than half their personnel.
The police couldn't form a defensive line by any means. What they could do was post small units at intersections. Covering as many of these as possible. Their front line trace ran west to east and generally faced north. Their orders were simple. Each unit was to hold their intersection as long they could keep the infected at a distance. Once the numbers of infected proved too great, each unit was to fall back to the next intersection and open fire at long range. And repeat as needed.
To the south, Commander Pearson was using a SWAT van as a mobile command post. He would not suffer the same fate as the Chief of Police and many other staff officers. He barely felt his sixty years. He took but a moment to mourn for his family, most of whom lived in the northern and already overrun part of the city. His wife, their children, and their grandchildren might very well still be alive. But there was no way to get to them without abandoning his duty. He would grieve later. For now, his plan was to try and save as many people as possible. He had his forces playing for time. Falling back south towards Compton, Torrance, and ultimately the port of Long Beach. He would use whatever boats were about to send civilians to Santa Catalina Island in the harbor.
A curious thing began to happen as the police were forced back. First, instances of infected people attacking from the south slowed and then stopped entirely. Pearson had set his few remaining SWAT units to sweep and clear southward, to keep the line of retreat and evacuation open. However, this complete removal of the threat from the south could not be attributed to the SWAT teams alone.
Second, as they fell back, they were joined by citizens. This bolstered their numbers, but more importantly their firepower was greatly increased. Those civilians generally had weapons used in self-defense (shotguns), gang warfare (modified sub-machine guns.) or hunting rifles.
Third, the left flank of the police line found an anchor at LAX. The airport was secured and fortified by it's own security forces along with an emergency reinforcement from the National Guard. However; the right flank was still in the air, with no real way to secure it, except to have those units on the end of the line be on alert for attacks from the east.
All of this did not change the fact that the police and civilians were vastly outnumbered. Pearson began getting consistent reports all along the line of small to large columns of zombies pushing southwards. Soon he would be forced to have his units break contact and retreat, much further than the block-by-block falling back they had been doing. He was considering where he could send everyone. He also had to solve a critical problem, everyone was fast running out of ammunition. If this situation remained, then no retreat would really help.
The situation was saved when Pearson received a radio call. The driver of the van had first heard it, and had alerted the commander to take the call. The call was being repeated when Pearson picked it up. "To the leadership of the police forces currently engaging the enemy, this is Colonel Emerson of the 1st battalion, part of the 160th infantry regiment. Please respond."
Pearson wasted no time "This is Commander Pearson, current acting Chief of the LAPD. Colonel, can you help us, my people can't hold our current line." Now it all made sense, the 1st of the 160th was the local National Guard unit, apparently they had been thrown into the fight for the city.
He didn't have long to wait for a response "Commander, pull your people back, I want them all south of the I-105 freeway. We've cleared that area and we're moving into defensive positions on the highway."
Pearson dropped off his call for a moment to order his many units to break off and head south. He didn't like this. He was reassured when he received reports of military vehicles and helicopters appearing and reliving some of his more heavily pressed units. It was the battalion reconnaissance section doing their job. They were supposed to find and fight for information about the enemy attack, discover it's main axis of advance so their unit could concentrate their heavier firepower and stop those larger columns of infected people.
As his SWAT van neared I-105, Pearson wondered what more would be asked of him and his ad hoc force. He hoped that Col. Emerson knew what he was doing. He remembered his reputation, they were in the same officer training course back in the late 1960s. Emerson was tough and smart. If he had one flaw, it would that he followed doctrine religiously. Pearson hoped that Emerson could adapt his thinking to this new threat. If his battalion's attack northwards so far was any indication, he had changed somewhat.
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Half a world away...
Rupert Giles was thankful for two things.
The first was the example set by his predecessor, Quentin Travers. The man was an ass, but Giles now understood why. With how many people and resources the Council had and the daily decisions involving life and death, it took a certain kind of nerve and demeanor to bear that responsibility. Giles had rid the council of certain traditions, but with so much of the old council destroyed, Giles had to come up with solutions to several problems. The most urgent one being that he had to find a way to provide assistance to the thousands of Slayers now scattered about the globe.
The second was that the Watchers Academy was located deep in the English countryside. The school had become a joint institution, training both Watchers and Slayers. It also served as a far more secure headquarters for the Council. After the First Evil had laid waste to the Council's London offices, Giles thought it prudent to move those administrative functions closer to those who would eventually do them.
This past day had shown the wisdom of that decision. With major cities the world over now locked in back and forth battles between Illyria's infected and the various local and national responses. The Academy was safe and had not seen any infected as of yet. Giles had spent the day researching and trying find out if there was anyway to reverse this apocalypse. He had come to one conclusion.
Ever since Andrew went to Los Angeles and retrieved the insane slayer Dana. Giles had become increasingly wary of Angel's involvement with Wolfram & Hart. Andrew's report of the confrontation between his Slayer team and Angel's group near the end of the mission especially distressed the head Watcher. Wolfram & Hart were known for their ability to corrupt. Wesley's presence seemed to confirm this. Giles could understand wanting to fight alongside Angel, the vampire had a genuine desire to do good. What Giles feared was the return of Angelus. With a Wolfram & Hart aircraft recently in England, and the party that had left the plane heading to the Deeper Well. The subsequent apocalypse seemed planned as opposed to some random and horrifying event. Angelus was not a stranger to trying to end the world, and this chaotic situation seemed tailor made for his depravity.
As a last consideration Giles looked at the Council's reaction to the First Evil's assault. They had waited too long to take action, Giles was determined that this time the Council would strike fast and hard. In view of this he called his current assistant from his office phone "Amanda, could you come in here please."
As the one of the Sunnydale Slayers, by rights Amanda should have been out in the field. But on her last mission she made some mistakes that had led to several deaths. Original council doctrine called for imprisonment and rehabilitation. Giles had found this to be impractical, the council's incarceration facilities had been gutted and emptied by the First. So he had hit upon a unique solution, at least for the Slayers. Their calling led to a craving for action, their power always seeking a foe to defeat. When they made mistakes that warranted punishment, Giles set them to doing research and performing mind-numbing office work. Thus Amanda's current position.
Amanda entered Giles' office, she was nearing the end of her punishment period, and she was happier by the day because of it, though the news reports of what was going on had dampened her mood, she wanted to be out there helping her sisters fight these abominations. Her tone reflected this "What is it Mr. Giles?"
"I need you to call everyone in. Contact the coven in Devon, we're going to need large amounts of magic for teleportation. I want to pull as many of our teams in from around the world. We can't afford to be scattered now. I want them here. Then we'll see what we can do." Giles saw her concern at this statement and was prepared for what came next.
Amanda didn't relish disagreeing with him, but her slayer instincts compelled her to object. "What about the rest of the world, won't they need our help?"
"You're right, of course, but we will be of no help to anyone if we remain as dispersed as we are. There will be great safety in numbers. After you contact the coven, get in touch with Willow, her raw power will be a great boost to this first step." Giles saw Amanda nod, she accepted his reasoning.
"I'll get right on that Mr. Giles" Amanda hurried out of the office.
What Giles didn't tell her was the rest of his plan. He was convinced that Angel and Wolfram & Hart were behind this apocalypse and that they would have the means to stop it. He was telling the truth, he did want to help in this rather large battle. The way to do that would be to get as much of the council as possible to America. It would greatly depend on the magical power he could muster from various individual users. Then they would make their way to Los Angeles. He would have to convince everyone. Giles didn't have proof that Angel had gone bad, it's just that the evidence pointed that way.
Like so many others this past day, Giles wondered what the future would hold. Unlike those others, accepting a few, Giles was fairly certain that tragedy would eventually hit him and those closest to him. Good people would be lost, and well before their time. They had all lost so much already, would this be the final time they jumped into the fray. Flinging themselves against impossible odds, would their luck run out this time?