Chapter 11

LOS ANGELES

YESTERDAY

Dawn Summers' life was more complicated than even the average Sunnydale resident.

That would seem to be a massive understatement from someone who had been created from a ball of energy into the form of the sister of a Slayer in order to make sure that she was guard it with her life. And it wasn't as if the last several months which had included the death of her mother, her abduction by a Hell Goddess who wanted to use her to get home and in the process destroy existence as we knew it, an entire army of knights whose sole purpose seemed to be to find her and kill her, her nearly being bled on top of a giant altar, her sister sacrificing herself to save her, her funeral, subsequent resurrection and her emptiness towards the world had exactly been a picnic for any of them.

It was that ever since she had learned the truth of her existence, she had been grappling with the same concepts of reality that her family and friends had been. This included everything since Buffy had moved to Sunnydale almost five years ago. She had spent the last several months trying to come to terms with the fact that so much of her childhood hadn't actually happened.

And that was a disconnect that fundamentally kept her giving a lot of trouble considering just how horrible Buffy's life had been for everyone around her. She remembered Angel coming to their house and saying he was her sister's boyfriend and that Buffy had asked her to babysit – and then Buffy being horrified when she told her about at age eleven. She remembered what a nightmare it had been when her mother had thrown her older sister out of the house and just how horrible that summer had been. She remembered Faith knocking on the door last year, punching her mother out and holding a knife to her throat, and she remembered the absolute certainty that someone she had once liked more than Buffy was going to kill her without a second thought.

She remembered all those things with crystal clarity – but none of them had ever happened, at least not to her. Given everything that had happened the last several months, this mental and emotional disparity was literally the least of her problems.

But she had enough experience with being kidnapped even over the past year to know that this time was horribly different. In all her memories, created or real, it had always been done by demons, vampires or supernaturally powered people. This abduction had started out seeming like the kind of abduction that you saw on so many TV movies and had now begun to spiral into something that seemed more complicated even by the standards of the Hellmouth.

She'd been kept blindfolded and gagged through most of it, but that didn't mean she couldn't hear. And while her hearing was never going to be as good as her sisters, she knew British accents when she heard them. There had been a lot of them in the past few days, too many for this to be a coincidence.

She also knew they had been doing a lot of traveling. They had left Sunnydale a while ago and the few times she had been able to see anything, she had seen the LA skyline. She was not comforted by the fact that the Watchers had taken her prisoner. Even if her memories of the Council were created, the disdain that Buffy and the Scoobies had for them was very real. It had been galvanized when none of them had even shown up for Buffy's funeral.

The thing was, Dawn had been kidnapped enough in her life to know that there was a ritual for this. It didn't matter if you were a vampire, a rogue Slayer or a hell goddess, at some point the people who took you were going to explain to you as if you were a toddler why they had done this. Dawn might only be thirteen but she already knew that people who did horrible things needed to justify them to themselves and that meant doing it to the people they were hurting.

So when Dawn was told to get up and walk this way, she had a feeling that something similar was coming. The fact that she was untied and the blindfold removed did not comfort her one bit. She knew this part of the movie, and she had a pretty good idea who she was going to be seeing.

"I wish I could apologize for the inconvenience, Miss Summers," she heard a plumb British voice say, "but you of all people need to be aware of the precautions."

As soon as she could move her head, she sighed. "I actually preferred it when Glory was holding me prisoner," Dawn told Quentin Travers. "At least she was honest about the kind of monster she was."

"I don't know what stories your sister has told you…"

Dawn scoffed. "I remember what you did when my sister turned eighteen."

"Those monks have done an extraordinary job," Travers' was looking at her like he was a curator looking at a rare artifact – which he might very well think he was.

"You want to pretend that I wasn't there? Fine. Let's concentrate on what you actually did," Dawn reminded him. "In a test of the Slayer my sister turned eighteen and you made it seem like she'd lost her strength. Then you abducted my mother and put an ancient vampire in her path to see if you could fight it. When Giles protested it, you considered the fact he cared for Buffy a weakness and you fired him. Did I miss anything?"

Travers didn't blink, not that she'd expected him to. "I realize the Council's ways may seem harsh to the untrained…"

"How much time have you spent on the Hellmouth in the past five years? A week, ten days?" Dawn threw at him. "My sister has been waging the fight that you've basically decided to spend looking at from the balconies. She died twice for her job, and the second time you didn't even bother to send a memorial wreath. The people who knew the kind of job she did were at her funeral. Did you even bother with a moment of silence or did you immediately start tracking down her replacement?"

She expected Travers to dismiss her outrage, shout at her or talk down to her. She did not expected him to move to the desk and start to pour himself a drink. "I stopped attending them after Lucille Matheson," he said softly.

Dawn blinked.

"She was the eleventh Slayer to meet her end in my tenure here," Travers held the glass but did not drink immediately. "That was twenty years ago. I'd been on the Council fourteen years by then. I'd also attended the funerals of thirty seven of my fellow Watchers, only two of whom died of natural causes. Of course, that depends on whether you consider dying of cirrhosis of the liver at fifty-seven 'natural'. And of course, in the case of at least seventeen of those we had no body to bury, as well as the dozens that we euphemistically refer to as 'missing'. I don't know how much of this Rupert knew about when he became a Watcher, but I can understand why he rebelled against it. It says a lot about his character he chose to accept his duty."

Now Travers swallowed the drink. He was looking at Dawn but she had a feeling he was thinking of her at all.

"I realize that myself and so many of colleagues come across as cold, detached and uncaring. That's not because its who we are, but because we need to survive as well."

Dawn had heard the tone of wariness in Giles so many times over the years. It was discerning to hear in the man who had abducted her. It didn't make her hate him any less but she was feeling the slightest amount of sympathy.

"You think that we are cold and only see our jobs as something we read in books?" Travers asked rhetorically. "Very well, here's a figure that probably won't surprise you. Your sister has already outlived the average life expectancy of a Slayer by two years. The longest tenure for a Slayer is eight years. Forming attachments is difficult because sooner than we want, we'll be at another funeral."

Dawn was used to bluntness in her life – from Anya, from Spike, from her sister. This was almost frightening. "And that justifies your treating Buffy the way you did?"

"I realize how tired you must be of phrases like 'the fate of the world' or 'the bigger picture'. Buffy certainly never had much use for it." Travers said. "There is something admirable about the loyalty she has to her friends, to Giles, to her family. There's a very good chance it's one of the things that's kept her alive as long as she has. And I realize she has the impression the Council has no more use for her than she does for us. I realize that thinking of Buffy Summers as another notation in a long line of Slayers is something that you and your friends consider loathsome about us." He sighed. "But it's also inevitable. And it's not as though her friends have always been the best influence on her."

"It makes her a better person than you'll ever be," Dawn summoned some of her old anger.

"I have little doubt of that," Travers said. "I would expect nothing else from someone who she gave up her life for."

Dawn was momentarily speechless. She had never expected Travers of all people to say something like that.

"I do understand why she felt she had to withhold your true identity from us," he said softly. "Did she also withhold it from you?"

Dawn blinked several times. Because she did remember how much it had hurt when she had learned not only what she was but that everyone had been lying to her for months. It had hurt nearly as much as when she had cut herself that same night.

"She wanted to protect me," she said defensively.

"And learning the truth as soon as possible wouldn't have done that?" Travers asked gently. "I know Buffy was going through a lot at the time in her personal life, but you know perfectly well there's never a good time to be caught in a lie of this magnitude."

Dawn opened her mouth and then closed it. Because there was no good answer for that question. It might not be a real memory but it didn't change the fact that Dawn has seen the battle royale that Buffy and Mon had gone through when she finally confessed to being the Slayer. Her mother's reaction had effectively been to throw her daughter out of the house – and Buffy couldn't even pause to deal with that. Mom had spent the years before her death trying desperately to make up for her reaction, and even when she was sick Mom had done everything in her power to treat Dawn with nothing but love. Was it another form of overcompensating?

"This is war, Dawn," Travers said. "And unlike most wars, there is never even a brief cessation of hostilities. There will be no statues built to the heroes. No monuments for the survivors. This is a war that dwarves the combats that men fight against other men, and if we are fortunate, civilization will never know that it is going on. We do what we have to do survive. Your sister is no different. In order to function from day to day, she has to compartmentalize the fact that she will die well before the age the average woman does. I imagine your friends engage in a similar attitude."

"You could say that" Even hearing this Dawn was not going to admit Travers was right on anything.

"Buffy doesn't have the luxury of thinking in the long-term. "We are painfully aware of that fact," Travers said pointedly. "But that also means someone has to. And in absence of anyone else, the Council has to fill that gap."

Dawn took a deep breath. "Is that how you justify that you're going to have me killed?"

Travers didn't blink or even attempt to deny it. "You saw what happened when you were bled. You knew the consequences." He gently paused. "Before she jumped, were you intending to sacrifice yourself?"

Dawn's eyes filled with tears at the memory. "I saw what was happening. She wouldn't let me."

"She knew what the right thing to do was. And she wouldn't let you do it," Travers swallowed. "That foolish girl."

Dawn was about to yell at Travers but she noticed at that moment, his grip on the glass of whiskey – which had just the slightest bet of liquid in it – had tightened. The bastard wasn't heartless after all. He just played one on TV.

"I admit this is a much better speech than the kind I'm used to from these things," Dawn said slowly. "I don't know if it's the accent or the vocabulary, but it's a decent argument. Of course, your moral high ground argument loses a lot of points with the fact that you are going to kill a thirteen year old girl. Yeah, I know. Glowing ball of energy given human form. I'm guessing that the – what was the word you used – compartmentalizing – you're going to be doing for quite some time to justify what you were going to do."

"We are going to do it," Travers said.

"That accent is very convincing. But I've lived through this movie before and we all know how it ends." Dawn had regained her confidence. "My sister and my friends find me. They kick your collective asses. She rescues me."

Travers looked at her. "You really think your sister has it in her to beat up ordinary people?"

"Don't be so modest. You're not people," Dawn said. "And you did try to kill her on her eighteenth birthday. She does sort of owe you one already."

Travers finished drinking. "I suppose it would be asking too much of you to understand the importance of this."

"Oh, I do understand. I just don't care." Dawn said snidely. "You can try that argument on Buffy when she gets here, but she's less patient than I am."

Travers shook his head. "I was hoping we could come to an understanding."

"Why? So you'd feel better about what's going to happen?" Dawn was actually starting to relax. "Trust me when this is over, I'll be in one piece. You know you won't be."

"And what makes you so sure of that?" Travers asked.

"Because your hand is shaking."

Travers practically flinched. He clearly hadn't noticed.

OUTSKIRTS OF SAN JOSE

TODAY

"How does she look?" Tara asked Faith.

"Pretty calm, considering the circumstances," Faith said. "Then again, this ain't her first rodeo, and that's without counting the ones that didn't actually happen."

Dawn was indeed bound, gagged and under armed guard.

"Yep, she's pissed," Angel said. "Is it a bad sign that she's taking this all in stride?"

"After everything that happened with Glory, I think it's a good one," Tara told them. "She did a bad job of hiding it but she was out of her mind with fear from the moment she learned she was the Key. The only time she got angry was when she learned we were lying to her."

"Well, maybe she knows the odds are in our favor and not theirs," Faith said. "I count a dozen suits and twice as many soldiers. Angel and I could handle that without really breaking a sweat."

"Then why don't we just go down and grab her?" Gunn asked. "I don't think we want to know what happens when that timer reaches zero."

"Because the Council would have been prepared for at least one Slayer, probably two," Angel said. "They have to have something in reserve than just manpower, emphasis on 'man'."

"Angel's right," Faith agreed. "If this is where everything goes down, they are going to have at least some kind of reserve force. Supernatural, mechanical, magical, combinations of the above. I'm willing to walk into fire on my own, but since this a rescue mission…"

"No, I get the logic," Gunn said. "How long until help gets here?"

"I sent out a call thirty minutes ago," Tara said. "Let's hope that help gets her fast."

EN ROUTE TO SAN JOSE

"Tara said they were on the outskirts of San Jose," Spike said. "I have to say Glory's plans for Niblet were simpler by comparison."

"If the military's involved convolution's their stock and trade," Xander said grimly.

"I knew I missed a lot the past five years but is this possible?" Fred asked. "Killing from this far away."

"Why does this have to be one of the things that science fiction got right?" Jonathan said sadly. "It couldn't be flying cars or jet packs; no, it had to be William Gibson."

All three of the people in the car looked blank. "The king of cyberpunk fiction," Jonathan said. "Honestly a lot of his books are too dense even for me but machines being able to target and kill people from space, this is just the kind of thing someone in the Pentagon would read and wonder, why can't I have one of those?"

"I'm beginning to think the Initiative got founded on that way of thinking," Xander agreed. "I agree with Spike about the elaborate part but in the minds of the REMFs this would make perfect sense."

"Then could you make it clear for me," Fred asked.

"The military's been told that the bit's a dangerous weapon," Spike clearly seemed to get it now. "In case something goes tits up, they want to destroy the weapon in a place to minimize casualties."

"And the fact the weapon is a thirteen year old girl?" Fred asked.

"Either they're going to follow orders or by the time they find out the truth, it'll be too late to back out," Xander said grimly. "I mean, we could hope for a mutiny of the grunts, but I'm betting they didn't send fresh face kids to this."

"No, they apparently send them to guard the machine," Spike was still shaking his head on that one. But that was no surprise, all of them had been astonished on the three college age kids who had been as astonished as everyone else to learn they were a part of.

"I'm guessing this car doesn't have a warp drive," Jonathan asked.

"Wish it did," Spike said sincerely. "As soon as we're on the highway, I'm going to push the mother as fast as I can get it to go but best case scenario it's an hour and a half before we're at the locations we've been given. We may end up the second wave."

"What about Buffy? She and her group are further out then we are," Fred asked.

"Last thing Cordelia told me was that their new friends said that they might have a shortcut," Xander told them. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"Let's hope the military's been taking lessons from Star Trek". Jonathan said. "We could really use a transporter room about now."

HYPERION MALL

RECRUITMENT OFFICE

"You know, I never realized just how messy it looks when you beat someone up before," Buffy said.

"Well, you're an artist at it," Willow said. "And you know, usually your targets aren't so…"

"Brainless?" Anya suggested.

"No, most of them are pretty stupid." Buffy corrected.

Upon learning exactly what the government was planning to do her sister Buffy hadn't thought she could get more angry. She was therefore slightly surprised that her three new allies were as angry as she was. And they were now well past the mad-at-themselves stage and starting to realize there were targets far more deserving of their rage.

Buffy had been more than willing to take it out on the soldiers who clearly knew more than what they were telling but their friends had insisted that they do it.

"If this is some half-assed combination of chivalry and guilt…" Buffy had begun.

"It's partly that," Tilly said, "but I have a feeling that whoever these morons are, they have no idea where you're from and what you can do. With your permission, I think we should keep that in reserve in case we can't get what we want fast enough."

"You're sure of that?" Cordelia pointed to the computer where a clock had begun to tick down. "There is a time element."

"I know your professionals, which is scary enough to deal with right now," Pete said, "but bear in mind, we have more than enough military training and are more than suitably motivated to beat these guys until we get what we need."

"Also, we saw what you did the door," Tilly said gently. "You could very easily pull off one of their arms without meaning to right now."

None of the women could disagree with that point but they still had doubts that these three 'normal' college age kids could do the kind of damage they needed to get the information.

They had clearly underestimated how sufficiently motivated their new friends were. Their combat tactics were clearly amateurish but the rage pulses through them was enough to beat one of them up and manage to subdue him. That didn't mean it hadn't been ugly.

"There's a part of me that wants to end this statement with, "If that is your real name, Sergeant Waters," Vic said after the third straight punch in the stomach, "but I don't think any of us care about that any more. So I'll get right to it. We know this isn't a recruitment office and this isn't an exercise. We know that you've been keeping secrets well beyond our pay grade."

"We have a lot of questions and we would really like to get all the answers for them, but 1, we don't believe for a moment you'd tell us the truth, and 2, we don't have time to work out the lies," Tilly said. "So we'll just ask one question that's relatively simple." She stood over him. "Where's the helicopter?"

The residents of Sunnydale were slightly flummoxed. This seemed as out of left field as attacking the Mayor with hummus. Even the sergeant seemed puzzled by it. "What are you talking about?"

Tilly raised her eyes skyward. "You're the professionals here. Are they always this oblique when you've pummeled them?" she asked.

"Well, usually we tend to ask more pertinent questions," Anya said.

"This mall only has three levels. But there's a tower here that's eight stories high," Pete said. "A tower that is supposedly a warehouse, but most malls don't have two men in uniform standing there in twelve hour shifts."

"Not unless they really want to protect the Armani," Cordelia admitted. "You think it's a helipad?"

"A couple of weeks ago I was in round eleven of trying to figure out what the hell we were guarding," Tilly told them. "I spent several hours going over the mall's architecture. Interesting note. The mall is nineteen years old. That tower went up eight months ago."

"They could be keeping a nuclear warhead in there," Anya said bluntly.

"That was one of our first theories," Vic told her. "You know; that this was some relic from the Cold War era and that this computer was some kind of First Strike thing. But even if the military was that ballsy, they have more than just two guards in camouflage." Vic looked at the Sergeant. "Of course, maybe we're wrong. Maybe we should push a few buttons on that computer we've been guarding and see if we can knock out Vladivostok."

"You think we'd let teenagers guard a bomb?" The sergeant said cynically.

Pete punched him in the face. "Not a good time start clowning, officer."

"Not bad on the banter," Buffy acknowledged. "I mean, solid for first timers."

"This is a military installation. Which means you've got vehicles going to and from this place, probably late at night when the mall is closed," Tilly said. "And considering what you're guarding here, I'm guessing that you have someone much higher up the food chain then you showing up from parts unknown."

"I don't ask questions. I just follow orders."

Pete threw up his hands. "I know this isn't the time or place," he asked in the direction of the Sunnydale women, "but are responses like this from your enemies signs of loyalty or just stupidity?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," Anya told them.

"Of course, they could just be stalling and hoping reinforcements arrive," Buffy said. "When's your shift end?"

Tilly looked at her watch. "Another hour." She looked at Cordelia and Anya. "Or maybe less. When you two were up here, did anybody do anything suspicious?"

"We've got different standards for suspicious then you," Cordelia reminded her.

"Any sign they might have done anything that looked like they were calling for help?" Pete specified.

Both women considered this. "We don't know what a panic button would look like under normal circumstances and the military's probably better at hiding them," Anya reminded them. "Let's just assume the worst and say they did."

The three of them nodded as if they expected as much. "Then I think we've wasted enough time asking questions," Pete said. "You take their arms from them?" he asked Tilly.

Tilly nodded.

"We really didn't want to do this," Tilly said, "but you've forced our hands." She took out what was clearly a Sig Sauer and pointed it at the sergeant. "We know you have a keycard to the tower. Now we searched you when we tied you up, so we know you don't you have it on you. You're going to tell us where it is. Now we're sporting. So you have until the count of three. Then I'm going to shoot you in the knee."

Sergeant Waters sneered. "You're bluffing. I don't think you even know how to aim a gun, much less…"

His words were cut off by the bang. Tilly had fired at Waters. Buffy's could see she had missed his foot by less than an inch. She didn't think anyone short of a Slayer could aim with such accuracy.

"My father is a very overprotective man," Tilly said bluntly. "I would have preferred a Malibu dreamhouse for my ninth birthday; he taught me how to shoot a gun. I still don't like using them." She pulled back the clip. "Doesn't mean I'm not good with them."

"Okay, that was bad-ass," Cordelia said admiringly. "Even by my standards."

"Now where was I?" Tilly said. "Oh, right. One…t…"

"My desk, second drawer, there's a green envelope," Waters said quickly.

Willow went to look.

Buffy walked over to Tilly. "Okay, I'm impressed."

"Don't be," Tilly whispered. "Pretty sure I'm going to shit myself."

"First time?" Tilly nodded. "I've been there." She paused. "I think I still have my original dreamhouse in storage somewhere."

"I moved past it when I was eleven," Tilly said in a more normal tone.

"It took me until I was thirteen," Willow said, picking out the envelope. "Of course, I didn't have a lot of friends back then." She took out the keycard. "How do we know this isn't a trick?"

"Because he's going to take us down to the tower and open it for us," Pete said calmly. "Aren't you, Sergeant?"

The sergeant nodded so vigorously one could have mistaken him for a Bobblehead.

Tilly whispered. "Just to be safe, I think this is where you should you know…"

"Do my thing?" Buffy said. "Not a problem."

"All right, let's say this works and there actually is a helicopter down there," Cordelia said. "I don't suppose your father gave you pilot lessons when you turned fourteen."

"Hers might not have," Pete said. "Mine did."

The Sunnydale women all looked at Pete with new eyes. "Is it me or did he just get a lot sexier?" Anya asked.

"It's not you." Everyone looked very cautiously at Willow. "What? Still gay."

A small sneer started to appear on Waters face. "This is the wrong time to say, 'don't ask, don't tell," Pete said very ominously.

"Riley always thought that was the dumbest policy ever," Willow said approvingly. "You guys go ahead. I'll be right with you."

"You sending out a message?" Anya asked.

Willow nodded. "And this time, it may have to be an all-points bulletin."

SAN JOSE

"Look if we're going to do anything, it's gotta be soon," Angel said. "We're at four hours and counting."

"This may break my man card, but why don't we wait until everybody leaves?" Gunn asked. "Hear me out. Cordy said that they're planning to use Dawn for target practice, right? Well, if that's the case at some point everybody's going to clear out so they don't get hit when there's the big bang."

Faith considered this. "Stealthy ain't usually my style, but since getting Dawnie out safe and sound is our goal, you might be on to something."

"That assumes that they'll leave humans to guard her," Angel reminded them. "None of these groups would have any problem leaving a guard of vamps and demons behind in anticipation of us knocking."

"Which would be more than acceptable collateral damage," Faith said. "Tara, you got…"

Tara's pupils had fixed.

"What the fuck is that?" Faith asked.

"I think she's getting a long distance call," Angel said.

Baby we may be able to get there sooner than we hoped, but I don't think we can waste any more time.

I thought as much. How long do you think it'll take for you to get here?

Best case scenario an hour. The rest of the gang will be even later than that. We have to get Dawnie out of there now. Which means you're going to have to make the first move.

As I recall that's how we first met.

Baby, this is hardly the time to flirt.

There are never any good times.

Good luck. And try to avoid me having to rescue you.

That's how these things usually end up.

Tara swayed.

"What did the Scarlet Witch have to say?" Faith asked.

"Cavalry may take too long to get here. We have to make our move now." Tara said.

Faith nodded. "You said something about being stealthy," Faith said. "Let's try that first. Angel, you and I are the quietest and the strongest ones here. I think we have to be the first ones out."

"So what do we do?" Gunn asked.

"You're going to provide a distraction," Angel looked at Tara. "And in order to that, we need to mess up the one thing that would really mess with their heads."

DELTA SECTOR

3 hours, 55 minutes

"You had no right to approach Rupert like that."

"He reached out to us Quentin. I thought I could persuade him to be rational."

Travers uttered an obscenity in a long extinct dialect. "Rupert was never convinced of the Council's motivations on his best day. That is why I made it clear he was not to be informed. You were at that meeting, Roger."

Roger had always had his eye for Travers' job and he knew there were times to be political. "One of our safehouses was breached earlier and our asset was taken. He and his allies were becoming a problem."

"And your idea of diplomacy was to force him to choose between the Slayer and us. He made where he stood very clear two years ago, Roger. Did you really think he'd changed his mind since in the interim?" Quentin paused. "Or is this about your son?"

Roger paused a second before responding. "Wesley has nothing to do with this."

"And his recent alliances have nothing to do with why you did something as reckless as agree to a meeting in broad daylight?" This time Travers didn't wait for an answer. "How much does he know?"

This time the pause was longer. "Everything."

This time Travers swore in English.

"They already knew of our involvement."

"You didn't have to confirm it!" Quentin shouted. "Do you realize the exposure we face when this is over? You know how capable Summers and her allies are. They had a chip on their shoulder before this started; you've just given them permission to declare war on us!"

Roger was unwaveringly, frustratingly calm. "They underestimate our capabilities."

"And as always, you continue to underestimate theirs." Travers terminated the call.

"Uneasy lies the head and all that crap."

He had apparently been louder than he wanted. Dawn was being moved towards what would be her final target but she didn't seem unsettled. In fact, she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Before you tell me this is none of my concern, I know it isn't," Dawn said. "I'm just loving what's going to happen when this is over. I really don't know who's going to beat you up the most: my sister or Giles."

"You've been missing nearly a week, there's been no sign of them."

Dawn actually snickered. "Considering all your experience, I'd think you'd be better at lying. They spent two days tearing Sunnydale apart. Then Willow managed to scry my location, but you kept moving so she kept having bad luck. Eventually Buffy did something she avoids doing and called Angel…though, considering how tricky things are there, she probably called Cordy first. I'd love to see how pissed she was when she learned what happened."

"Be quiet," Travers said.

"It took everybody in Sunnydale about a day to get down here, which was enough time for Angel to go on his own rampage." Dawn continued sweetly. "He gets jealous when someone muscles in on his turf. By the way, just how annoyed are you that Buffy managed to get the last two Watchers you sent to her to defect? Must be why you stopped sending them, it's got to be so hard to find good help these days."

"You're in no position to talk," Travers was having trouble holding on to his legendary control.

"Of course, that's assuming Buffy didn't get reckless and called her last boyfriend," Dawn said. "That would lead to more than a few awkward conversations – especially with Spike involved – but Riley always did like me and he was always willing to break protocol for us. Buffy probably doesn't even have to give a reason why I was taken; damsels in distress were his bread and butter. Knowing him, he probably arranged to have an entire platoon tearing up the state by now."

"In that case, Miss Summers, you are wrong," Travers tried to regain control of events. "Mr. Finn's unit is currently deep in Central America. Once the military learned that we had an asset that was valuable, they made sure that Sgt. Finn's unit was sent to Belize to track down a vampire nest. By the time he finds out, this will be all over."

Dawn seemed non-plussed at this. "That's a shame. For you. Because once Buffy rescues me, I will be sure to tell this particular nugget of information to her. She will find a way to reach Riley – hell, Willow might teleport her there – and once he finds out the military used him – again - I'm pretty sure he'll take off his white hat and hire a wetworks team to take you out himself."

"You keep presuming rescue is imminent," Travers told them. "Within three and a half hours, this will all be over."

""'Oh no, there's a clock counting down my last moments on Earth," Dawn said in mock tones. "Six months ago, I was in this exact same place. The guards were far uglier and the head honcho had better style, but nothing's changed. Buffy saved me then; she's going to save me now."

She gestured towards that timer. "I'd watch that timer very carefully. Because it's counting down for you, not me. And one way or another when it runs out, your time is done." Dawn paused. "Did that sound good? I'm rarely in a position to deliver banter in these scenarios, but I am Buffy's sister."

"We wouldn't be doing this if that we're the case," Travers snapped.

Dawn considered this. "Be sure to say that when she gets here. What am I saying? If you have any survival instinct, you'll be long gone by then."

"Damn," Faith shook her head. "I don't care what they tell us; that girl is a Summers, through and through."

By this point Angel and Faith were roughly three hundred feet away, and because of their super-hearing they had gotten almost everything Dawn had told Travers.

"Buffy will be so proud," Angel said. "Of course, she might be irritated if we're the ones who save Dawn after all of this."

"We both know it won't be that easy," Faith said. "Though, if it is, B will be relieved."

"Then let's see if we can do the work," Angel said.

BABABA

"This is going to take some work," Tara said. "Willow's better at this kind of thing then I am."

"Hey, we don't need a controlled burn here," Gunn said. "The messier this is, the better for us."

Tara nodded and began to chant. Charles didn't know what language she was using but he knew it had worked – a very small spark began to emerge from her finger and slowly but surely headed to one of the wires that was hanging loose.

There was a momentary flicker. "Maybe I should try again."

Then there was a massive explosion.

"From little pitchers," Gunn said.

BABABA

The explosion was on the other side of the camp but everybody still heard it.

Travers flinched but didn't move. Clearly he'd been expecting this. "Stay where you are!" he shouted. "This is merely a distraction."

His forceful words lost their tone very quickly as the smell of smoke filled the air.

"Kind of subtle by Willow's standards," Dawn said calmly. "She must be saving her efforts for turning your friends into rats. She's very good at that by the way. Not so good at changing them back."

Dawn had been through this often enough to know about psychological warfare and how valuable a tool it could be. It was nice to be on the other side of it; quite a few of Travers' goons were looking distinctively uncomfortable at this.

Travers remained stoic. "Send two men to put out the fire. Make sure the perimeter remains guarded. They'll be making their approach soon."

"The way you speak about this, you'd think you knew what you were doing," Dawn said.

"Gag her again," Travers said calmly.

BABABA

"I think that's our cue." Faith turned to Angel.

The vampire was quiet – quieter than usual.

"Remember when I said we had to watch out for what they had in reserve?" he said quietly.

Faith knew who she was going to see without Angel pointing. It would have been hard to miss her.

Darla turned and smiled. "You and I have unfinished business."

Angel looked at her. "Baby, you ain't kidding."

AUTHOR'S NOTES

I realized Dawn had been absent from the story until this point, so I wanted to write a portion of this story from her. I also wanted to look at the perspective of how not being real affects the well being of someone who went through everything she did and yet didn't.

We barely saw Quentin Travers throughout the series but I wanted to humanize both him and The Watchers a little. Aside from Giles and Wesley we tend to see the Watchers as stuck up and detached from what happens to the Slayers. I wondered if perhaps this was a defense mechanism: it can't be easy seeing all the people around you die and so frequently being powerless to stop it. Of course Dawn has heard versions of this speech before, so she knows that a lot of it is BS.

I started with the idea of Vic, Tilly and Pete as the Three stooges; now I'm starting to see them as the Three Musketeers. I also like the idea of them being smarter then the usual help Buffy gets in this world. The scene where they beat up the sergeant was one of the most fun to write in this story, and this story has been fun to write.

I wanted to illustrate of the idea of a power struggle between Roger Wyndham Pryce and Travers. In his one appearance in Angel, Roger seemed arrogant enough that he might very well make this kind of power play. And I wanted Dawn to hear this part – you do get the feeling that she's used to this by now and might actually enjoy seeing the villains bicker among themselves.

Yes, I quoted Tarantino. Couldn't help myself.

There's probably going to be one more epic chapter and then an epilogue. Keep reading and reviewing!