Chapter 49.

MICK ST. JOHN'S P.O.V.

I couldn't help myself. I was still a little dubious about the Green Lama's ability to fly this chopper. And, I either had a bad poker face about it, or he really was able to read my mind. Because, as he coursed through the skies of San Francisco, he turned to me with a shameless grin and quipped:

"I admit it's a far cry from Phil Strange's old autogyro. But, I've taken refresher courses in piloting over the years. So, I know what I'm doing."

He then added (in a shamelessly blatant stage whisper): "I think."

TEMPLE OF THE SEARING WIND

Ethan and Kat rematerialized upon the top step of the main entrance. The youngster still mesmerized into believing she was with her father. And, her arms still cradling the rat-like Amy Madison!

"OK, moppet," said the Cockney chaos-worshipper: "We've arrived. Time to break the spell on this poor unfortunate creature."

"How do I do that, Daddy?" wondered Kat.

"Just put her on the ground. Then, wave your pretty new trinket over her. Visualizing her as she used to look in that photograph I showed you."

"Oh, right! I almost forgot."

MEANWHILE, AT HALLIWELL MANOR. . .

. . .the mingled voices of Magga, Brother Demetrius, Willow Rosenberg, and the Charmed Ones began to rise in volume. The enjoining spell having done its work, they were now in the middle of reading the augmentation spell. And, for this, they all concentrated on a certain mental picture. That of an adolescent girl about five years younger than Buffy. But, roughly her height. . .and with the same shade of brown hair and eyes as Angel.

It was this image that now began to take shape within the eye of a whirlwind kicking up dust devils at Nipomo Dunes State Park.

* * * * *

MICK ST. JOHN'S P.O.V.

We were about ninety seconds from touching down, right in front of that so-called "temple," with Sonny and I rubbing sun block (supplied by Oz) all over ourselves for the big sprint inside. Suddenly, however, bells and whistles began going off all over the Bell Jet Ranger's control panel!

I looked sharply at Dumont, and yelled at him.

"I thought you said you'd taken refresher courses!"

"I have!" he yelled back: "Something else has caused us to lose power. Brace yourselves!"

As I tightened my grip on my particular seat, I thought I saw a man and two girls suddenly vanish into thin air from the temple's front portico. Then, the chopper hit the heavy, lacquered wooden doors. Losing both its main rotor and its two landing skids in the process! This, of course, threw up a lot of friction sparks. Sparks which were bound to ignite the gasoline I could already smell dampening the floor of this place.

Sure enough, as soon as I had sprinted to safety with Sonny (the two of us carrying Oz between us), the chopper exploded.

The three of us hid behind the biggest pillar we could find, to protect ourselves from that massive fireball. When I finally felt it was safe enough to look up, I found that Dumont had still not rejoined us. Forcing me to wonder whether or not he had made it out of the cockpit at all!

* * * * *

The kuei-jin guarding the meditation chamber did their best to stop him. But, even with their vampirically enhanced kung fu, they were still no match for the enjoined Green Lama. Consequently, the latter used one of the former as a battering ram. Putting a hole through the two doors large enough for him to purposefully stride through.

"Nice of you to knock," said the erstwhile Dr. Death, as he slowly stood back up from his yoga lotus position.

"Where's the girl, Doc?" demanded the Green Lama: "Trust me; you do _not_ want to fool around with me in my present mood."

"What?!" exclaimed the sifu of the Searing Wind: "And deny myself the pleasure of re-enacting our own little version of the Harvard/Yale game? I think not."

"Then, prepare to get creamed, Yale."

"In your dreams, Harvard!"

* * * * *

The whirlwind had proven a fateful distraction. It allowed Glordelia enough time to regather herself. . .and lift up both her legs. Using them as a means of catapulting Buffy off of her waist and over her head! As a result, Buffy wound up landing flat on her back in the sand.

Minus the Dagon-sphere.

"Finally!" crowed Glordelia, at the top of her lungs, cradling the mystical bauble in both hands: "You put up quite a fight, Blondie. You, too, stud!"

She uttered that last part in Angel's direction. Just before back-handing him away as he tried (but failed) to sneak up behind her.

"Yet, me losing to you two was really _not_ an option. And, this will prove it!"

Glordelia put the Dagon-sphere beneath the sole of her right foot. . .and stepped on it. Naturally, the resulting burst of energy made her fly backwards! But, this time, when she sat up, there was no expression of pain or anger on her face. Merely, smug joy.

"Now, all I have to do is break your necks, and I can be on my to Chinatown to collect the Key."

"That won't be necessary, Glorious One," replied a new voice: "I have the Key, right here."

Glordelia looked behind her. There, she beheld Yu Nohu (alias Dr. Death) holding a three-bladed knife in his left hand. . .and pressing one of those blades to the throat of a fourteen year-old naked girl.

tbc