Chapter Five
While it wasn't a full seven days, by the time Angel was finally ready to leave Connor's body behind, Judith felt like she was emerging back into the world after sitting shiva with him. The sun had set long ago, meaning she had been at St. Anthony's with Angel for over 18 hours. She was stiff from sitting, although she had managed to eat periodically. So there was that.
Now that Angel was moving, though, she felt less at liberty to leave his side. If there was one thing she'd learned about him over the years, it was that he was intense. He felt intensely about things, he believed intensely, he reacted intensely. And in the intense thralls of grief, Judith didn't know what to expect of him next. Except intensity.
And he delivered on that.
He drove with his knuckles white against the steering wheel, brow chiseled into a furrow, eyes lasered on the road ahead like he was daring even the insects to get in their way. (Judith had offered to drive but he shut her down with a curt, "I'm fine." Likewise, he had offered to take her home and she replied with an equally firm, "I'm fine.")
They went to his flat, where he rummaged messily through his bookshelves, knocking things onto the floor like nothing mattered anymore. He started creating stacks of books on his apothecary table, but it was hard to tell if there was an order to it.
"Give me one," Judith said, holding out her hand for a book. "Transdimensional communication?"
"Yeah," Angel replied, his voice sounding strained behind his emotions. He handed her a book and she thought she caught a glimmer of thanks in his eye before he turned back to the shelves.
Or perhaps it was just another restrained tear.
Judith took her book to one of the armchairs and started searching for something that would help them get in contact with Cordelia Chase.
"They're researching transdimensional communication," William reported as he and Calder approached the dark grounds of the Watcher's Council. "Trying to reach Cordelia." He acknowledged the message with a tap before silencing the Palm and slipping it back into his pocket.
"Right, 'cause she knew Conner," Calder said.
"Even if she didn't, she'd want to be with Angel," William replied. He wasn't sure if he managed to keep any of the terseness out of his tone. He wanted to be with Angel.
"Of course," Calder agreed. After a pause, he added, "Soon, Will."
So he hadn't managed it. Or Calder had just known him long enough to know what he was thinking. 21 years was probably long enough. (Twenty-one years. William couldn't quite believe he was old enough to be able to say that he'd known his best friend for over two decades.)
"I know…" William murmured.
"Hey," Calder said, a little softly, "we'll probably have some time tonight before everyone goes to bed; we can see if the Council library has anything about transdimensional communication that might help Angel."
William wanted to hug Calder for thinking of that. "Yeah," he agreed, feeling a little better already. "Yeah, that's a good idea."
They entered the gates to the grounds and were silent the rest of the way up to the door. It opened just before they got there, revealing Gabrielle, who watched them approach with a cool disinterest. "Saw you coming up the walk," she said, sounding casual. "I thought you left?"
Calder replied, just as casually, "Our return ticket wasn't until morning, so we spent the day sightseeing."
"Oh," Gabrielle replied, like that was only mildly interesting. "Well, dinner's over but I'm sure you could find leftovers in the kitchen."
They had already eaten, but Calder took the hint and said, "Thanks. Uh…could you show us the way?"
Looking unenthusiastic, Gabrielle agreed and led them down the hall toward the dining room. The tables were empty and shone in the dim overhead lights with fresh lemon-scented cleaner. Through the large archway into the library on their left, William could see several people sitting at desks pouring over books with varying degrees of interest. Outside on the lawn, he could just hear the shout of someone ordering drilling exercises.
Gabrielle led them away from the library toward the kitchen door and pushed through it. The undercabinet lights flicked on automatically, giving them just enough light to see by. Without a word, Gabrielle led them across the kitchen to yet another door, where she stopped and faced them. In a low voice, she said, "This leads to the food cellar. It's connected to the sub-cellar by a trap door in the back under the crate that's labeled 'Salt.' It's a long way down but the ladder is safe. The door code at the bottom should be 362295."
"Should be?" Calder asked.
"That's the code to the main door," Gabrielle replied. "This is the back way in. I don't think the code is different but I don't know for sure. I'm not even supposed to know the main code but Waterson slipped it to me at dinner."
Calder nodded grimly while William held up his Palm ring, tapping it on. "Record note," he said softly. After the soft beep of acknowledgement, he said, "Door code is…" He looked up at Gabrielle again, eyebrows raised.
"3-6-2-2-9-5," she repeated, quiet yet clear.
William nodded as he tapped the ring again, turning it off. "So," he said as he lowered his hand again, "I take it you're not coming with us?"
Gabrielle shook her head. "At some point you'll trip the alarms and I'll be there anyway as a Senior Slayer. Waterson probably will be, too. He's the one with a goatee that badly needs to meet a razor."
Calder snorted appreciatively. "Bad Goatee Man is on our side," he nodded, taking that in.
"Well," Gabrielle tilted her head. "That remains to be seen."
Again, William felt like they were being tested. But why? If she was letting them into the sublevel, couldn't she let them know what might be down there? "Can we talk to Waterson?" William asked. If this guy was going around giving codes to Gabrielle that she shouldn't have, maybe he had answers that she didn't have.
Gabrielle looked at him suspiciously. "I haven't told him why I needed the code," she replied slowly. "If he knew about you, he'd have to report you to Markle."
Calder pointed out, "He's supposed to report you for asking about codes, isn't he?"
A flash of annoyance crossed Gabrielle's expression. "I suppose," she agreed. "But we've built trust, which is not a privilege you two have. This is what you get; the fruit of your 36-hour espionage: you get a door and a code. If you find something useful to me, you might also get my protection. And toward that end, I really do wish you good luck."
Angel had not stopped pacing and it was starting to wear on Judith. Maybe it was how tired she was, but the constant back and forth while he flicked through pages without any of his usual reverence (flick, flick, flick, flick, flick) made her fidget with antsiness. She didn't say anything, though. It was what he needed to do, so she let him do it.
It had been a few hours; her normal bedtime was past and her body was letting her know it. Her eyes glazed more than read, and she struggled to keep her focus on the small print of the index.
Perhaps she should make coffee. Or at least get up and move. Perhaps Angel had something on the whole pacing thing.
Her Palm bracelet buzzed against her wrist at the same time as the device buzzed in her pocket and she jumped a bit. She glanced at the bracelet, which told her she had been sent an image from William, so she fetched the device out of her pocket to read it.
"Angel," she said after she realized what it was.
Angel grunted to show he was listening, but he didn't look up or stop his pacing.
Flick. Flick. Flick.
"Is this what we're looking for?"
Angel stopped mid-flick and came over to look. He frowned with some confusion at the picture on her phone and then his expression lit up. "Yes," he said. His voice was raspy. She should have been making sure he was drinking water. "Where did you get this?"
"William," she replied, standing as he took the Palm from her and setting her book aside. "From the Council library."
"Brilliant," Angel murmured, sounding half-dazed. He started wandering again; not quite pacing but keeping in motion, and continued murmuring to himself. "I have all of this stuff. Except- But I can use- That's fine. Fine, fine. Of course, the caffeine. Makes sense."
While he was doing that, Judith sent a quick text to William using her bracelet to thank him. She wanted to ask how the rest of the mission was going but held off; she would surely hear about that later.
"What can I do?" Judith asked when she was done.
Angel grunted again, but it sounded more like a thinking grunt. A moment later he replied, "Make some coffee. Strong."
"For the spell?" she asked, thinking of his caffeine comment.
Angel grunted again in acknowledgement. "But make extra. For us."
"I'll add a few extra scoops," Judith agreed, already heading for the kitchen.
After being assured that the spell that they had found (with the help of a young Watcher named Palgrave) was what Angel had been looking for, William and Calder announced that they were going to bed, since they had such an early morning train to catch. William thought to ask Palgrave to give Head Watcher Markle their regards and apologies for missing her, and to thank her for her hospitality.
"It's good that you think of details like that," Calder told him as they climbed the stairs. "It never hurts to reinforce the bridge, even if we're about to burn it down."
Truthfully, William had thought of it because it was how his mother had raised him, but he said, "Exactly…" anyway.
In their room, they packed, moving things around so their clothes and overnight things were in one bag (dispensable, in case they had to leave it behind) and the small weapons they had snuck through the train security with a simple glamor in the other bag. They discussed their plan one last time, and then actually settled in to try to get at least a few hours' sleep.
It was a fitful sleep, for William, but he definitely had fallen asleep at some point because the soft ringing of their alarm woke him up. They both groaned and reached for the Palm between them to turn it off as quickly as possible, having decided it was best to share the large bed and put the alarm on the lowest possible volume between them. That way, it was most likely to wake at least one of them and less likely to wake anyone else in the building.
Their hands collided and Calder swore, shaking his hand out while William tapped the alarm off.
Mumbling that that had woken him up better than the alarm, Calder rolled out of bed and William soon followed.
It only took a few moments for them to fully wake up and get ready to go. They had figured that they probably couldn't spend more than an hour in the sublevels without getting caught, so between that and the time it would take to get from the Council building to the train platform - plus a 15-minute buffer "just in case" - it was a little after 4am. William wanted to check in with his mother to see if they managed to contact Cordelia, but she would hopefully be sleeping by now and Calder was already opening the bedroom door, bag of weapons slung over his back. William picked up their bag of clothes and followed.
The building was dark and seemed to creak with every footstep, but at least they could reasonably tell anyone they might run into that they were heading out to the station; even that they were hoping to filch a little breakfast if they were caught all the way in the kitchen.
They didn't run into anyone, however, and made it into the kitchen and down into the kitchen cellar without a problem. William left their clothes bag in a corner while Calder heaved the box labeled "salt" aside (it turned out to be empty, so his heave turned into a crash and a "shit!" as it rammed into the back wall of dirt).
"Cal!" William hissed.
"Sorry, sorry!" Calder hissed back.
They both paused to listen for signs of anyone coming, but all was quiet.
Breathing with relief, Calder lifted the trapdoor that had been exposed and started climbing down the ladder. A dim light in the tunnel turned on below Calder, causing both of them to pause.
"I think it's just automatic," Calder said softly. "Motion-activated. There's no one down there. It is a long way…" He continued descending, the metal rungs that protruded from the concrete dinging softly every time Calder's Palm ring brushed it.
William followed, grateful for the light as he closed the trap door over them. With any luck, if someone glanced into the cellar they wouldn't notice that the salt box had been moved.
It was a long way down; William guessed two or three stories, but it felt much longer. He started to think that in their timing estimations they should have accounted for the time it would take to get all the way down and back up again. When they finally reached the bottom, William checked the time.
"4:15," he said. "We have an hour and a half."
"Plenty of time," Calder replied confidently. "Here, let's suit up before going in." He slid the bag of weapons off his shoulder and knelt down to open it up.
William accepted a dagger and a short sword, strapping both on in a way that felt as natural as clothing. It was weird how used he was to carrying long, sharp blades around. It didn't seem like the kind of thing one should get used to.
Once Calder was ready, the empty bag slung on his back again, he said, "Okay, what's the door code?" His fingers hovered over the keypad next to a plain metal door opposite the ladder.
William retrieved the code from the recorded note from earlier and read it off to him. The intervening second after he hit the Enter button seemed to take an eternity before…
Beep. A green light. A bolt sliding back.
"Yes," Calder breathed as he pushed the handle down and cracked open the door.
William waited while Calder peered around the door's edge, assessing the situation on the other side. He didn't say anything, but a moment later he pushed the door open further and slipped in, so William assumed it was clear and he followed.
It looked like a classic bunker out of a military holo: the walls were a dark, sterile metal with exposed rivets at the joint of each sheet. The floor was also metal, but textured for traction. The hall in front of them was short and ended in a T, and there was a green light above them that turned red as soon as they closed the door behind them.
Quietly, they edged up to the T in the hall, Calder on the right and William on the left. Simultaneously, they peered around the corners.
Empty, on William's side. Very empty. There was only one door and a dead-end.
"Do you see any security cameras?" Calder whispered.
"No," William replied, scanning the bare ceiling.
"Me neither."
William glanced around Calder down his side of the hall. There were three more doors down that way, and the hall seemed to turn left at the end.
"I've got one door," William whispered. "I'm going to check it out."
"Do you remember the danger signal?" Calder asked. He usually asked. A grin spread across his face.
"Screaming, Cal," William replied, a small grin on his face, too. "Screaming like a little kid."
"It's the clearest way to say, 'Help! I've been caught!'" Calder winked at him. This was the part where Calder thrived; the sneaking, the danger, the teamwork. He was having fun.
William gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder before heading down the hall toward the one door, leaving Calder chuckling.
William did not especially find this part fun; at least in the moment. Later, if/when they would be celebrating a victory, he would look back and agree that it was a thrill, and definitely badass. But in the moment, he always found himself wondering if this would be it for him. If whatever was on the other side of the door would do him in. If this time he wouldn't be returning home to Keiko and his mother and Angel.
Was he all that worried in this case? Not really. The Watcher's Council was unlikely to be hiding a deadly monster in their basement. More likely, he'd get caught and imprisoned. Perhaps threatened into silence. Perhaps tortured for information.
Was he likely to meet his death on the other side of this particular door? Less likely than other doors he'd opened. But he still wanted to be on that train in an hour and a half.
William pushed gently down on the handle. It was unlocked and opened easily under his hand. He pushed it open and looked cautiously inside.
A light turned on automatically and that relaxed him. If someone had been in there, the light would have already been on. His shoulders dropped with relief (and perhaps a little disappointment).
"Well?" Calder asked from the junction.
"Storage," William replied, closing the door again. "Could be a good hiding place if we need it."
"Good note," Calder agreed. He waited for William to catch up and they headed down the hall the other way, feeling a little more confident for their current level of success.
The next door, opened by Calder, led to a server room. They briefly debated seeing if they could possibly steal some files, but Calder noticed a security camera in one corner of the room and they quickly closed the door again.
"Definitely not high security, though," Calder observed quietly as they made their way to the next door. "This is more like a bunker than a top secret lab or something."
William agreed with a nod.
The next room was - a little shockingly - an empty bedroom. It had made William's heart jolt seeing such an obvious sign of human presence, but the bed was made and although the sparse furniture was friendly, was completely devoid of any personal touches. No one was using it, but it was ready to be used.
"Okay…" Calder said softly. "Someone's definitely being kept down here."
"No one's using the room now, though," William pointed out. "Either they don't sleep at night or there are other bedrooms."
"And if there are other bedrooms…" Calder said, following the logic, "...there might be more than one person to rescue. Is that possible? Did Angel say it was definitely just one person?"
"I think so," William replied. "But if that's the case, it's going to be obvious who needs to be rescued. The Powers wouldn't leave that up to chance."
"The Powers thought Angel would be with us; sometimes they send followup visions," Calder pointed out.
"They're all-seeing," William said. "They had to know about Connor."
Calder looked unsure, but shrugged. "Man, why can't the Powers ever give us any specifics? It's annoying as hell."
Calder complained about this at least once a mission, so William didn't respond. Besides, he agreed. Nodding, William said, "At least there aren't any cameras in here."
"Yeah," Calder agreed as he closed the door again. "The operation isn't totally evil, then."
"Be careful with the next doors, Cal," William cautioned. "In case someone's sleeping."
"Right," Calder said.
The hallway turned left and they followed it several meters to the next door on the left. Calder opened this one much more cautiously. Light seeped out from the crack and each of their hands immediately went to the hilts of their swords. If the light inside was already on, it either meant something was moving in there or it was kept on permanently with frequent use.
They listened and at first heard nothing, but then… What was that? It was high pitched and long, punctuated with shorter, gruffer notes. It didn't sound human, and it made William feel unaccountably sad even though there was nothing about it that sounded mournful. It wasn't music. It wasn't mechanical. It wasn't a person.
Calder turned to share an equally confused look with William. William nodded at the door, urging him to open it a little further.
Calder nudged it open a bit wider and paused to wait for a reaction on the other side. The noise continued. Calder nudged it open even wider; through the gap they could see the edge of a large mirror on the wall. William quickly scanned the reflection and couldn't see any people, but he did see a large cage. And in the cage…
"What the hell?" Calder whispered.
The extra strong coffee helped. It put Judith in a strange buzzing state of both tired and alert, but at least she wasn't nodding off while Angel set up the things he needed for this spell.
He worked in almost a frenzy; quick, clipped movements that were both frantic and scattered, yet all of his focus was on this one goal. He took the mug of coffee for the spell but didn't seem to see the second one she offered for him to drink. She asked what she could do to help, and he answered with the step he was already halfway through completing. Twice, the Palm screen went black when he went too long without looking at it and ended up swearing foully at it when it wouldn't unlock to his biometric signature. To prevent a third time of reminding him that it was, in fact, her Palm, Judith forwarded the image to his device so that he could unlock it as needed.
At one point, looking at the ingredients around him, he murmured "water" in such a raspy voice that she assumed he meant to drink, but when she brought him a glass, he took it and dumped it into a brass bowl and set it in the center of the room, and then carried on with measuring some herb into the coffee.
At this point, Judith took the hint to stay out of the way and let him do what he needed to do. She sat down on the edge of the couch nursing her very strong coffee and watched as he assembled and muttered his way toward a transdimensional communication spell.
It surprised her, therefore, when he approached her with a cardboard box large enough to hold maybe 10 of his books, shuffling with slow deliberation as if movement had suddenly become difficult. He gave the box to her.
Judith quickly set her coffee aside and took the box (it was lighter than books but still had some heft). "What's this?" she asked, reaching for the top.
Angel put his hand on the flaps, preventing her from opening it yet. "I need a picture," he said evenly. "Of Cordelia. For the spell. Like a phone number."
"Alright," Judith nodded, understanding.
"Just Cordelia," Angel added.
"Just Cordelia," Judith confirmed.
Angel's hand left the box and in the next second he was back in the middle of the room, assembling, but no longer muttering.
Judith understood his instructions much more clearly after opening the box. It was full of old pictures. Old pictures. Faded, paper - but at least color - pictures. And most of them had more than one person in it. These were family pictures.
Judith had actually met some of these people before, briefly. She had been on her way back to the 1950's and made an accidental stop at the Hyperion Hotel shortly after Connor had been born. She recognized Wesley, the unforgettable green of Lorne's skin, and of course Cordelia. There were dozens of Conner as a baby. Of course Angel wouldn't be ready to sort through these now; not when he had the spell to focus on.
With the utmost reverence for these sacred objects, Judith carefully sifted through the piles of photographs until she found one of just Cordelia. Her smile was so bright it out-glowed the sunshine on her face.
Judith set the box aside and took the photo over to Angel. He took it, stared at it for a long moment, and then nodded with finality. He put the photograph into the bowl of water and pushed it to the bottom, weighing it with a few small rocks. Judith regretted having found such a lovely picture, now knowing its fate. She touched Angel's shoulder before returning to the couch, where she put away the rest of the pictures and closed the flaps of the box. Not long after that, Angel started the spell.
Although Judith had been friends with Angel for several years now and knew he'd taught the boys the basics of magic, she had never really seen it in action. There was one time, several years ago, when she'd been (literally) captive to a fairy spell that Angel and the boys had broken, but as she'd been in a trance during most of the magic-related part, she didn't remember much of it. And she was sure she was happier for it.
Honestly, for magic, this particular spell was a bit anticlimactic. Judith had expected flashing light, blowing wind, electricity crackling through the air… There were a few quick sparks as Angel dropped a lit match onto the herbs (impressive given they were drenched in coffee) and she thought she might have felt a slight breeze after he murmured something in a language she didn't understand. But she felt no electricity, no crackling in the air. The lights barely even flickered.
"Cordy," Angel said softly, leaning over the brass bowl of water (which was perched on top of the herbed, strong coffee) like it was the screen of a video chat. "Cordy…if you can hear me I need to-" His voice caught. He swallowed.
The air in the room suddenly became thick and heavy, and Judith knew it wasn't due to any sort of magic. Angel had arrived at the point his frenzied actions had been working toward, and that point was…telling a loved one that his son had just died.
A tear moistened the corner of Judith's eye as she watched Angel struggle for the words. He was breathing again in short, sharp breaths.
Softly, Judith asked, "Would you like me to tell her?"
Angel shook his head. "No, I can- Cordy." His voice sounded thick and he swallowed. "Just…come here. Please. It's urgent."
Angel hesitated, then sat back on his heels, still staring at the bowl of water. Then, as abruptly as he'd worked to set everything up, he picked up the bowl and the mug and took them into the kitchen. A moment later, Judith heard the dishes clatter in the sink and the sound of running water. She let him have a moment alone and waited for him to return, which he did not much later, pausing in the kitchen doorway.
"Did it work?" Judith asked.
The rims of Angel's eyes were red. He nodded. "I think so," he replied. "Hard to tell for sure when it's one-way."
"How long do you think it will take?"
Angel shrugged. "Time across dimensions is…weird. She might've already gotten the message. She might not get it until next week. She might not get it until next year and still come in an hour." He swallowed and closed his eyes tightly like holding back tears. He shook his head. "I need to go out and do something," he said.
"I'll come-" Judith started to say, but Angel cut her off.
"No. Thanks, but- I need to…blow off steam. In a vampire way."
Judith turned that over in her mind, wondering how concerned she should be. That could mean any number of things, and letting the bereaved go off into violent-sounding situations did not seem wise. Yet what did Judith know about the vampire grieving process? Or how that changed with a soul? Just how strong was Angel's death wish right now? He didn't seem suicidal, but that didn't mean that subconsciously he wasn't going to be less careful about the fights he might pick.
"I'll be fine," Angel told her, picking up on her hesitation.
"Angel," Judith told him gently, "your son just died. You will be fine someday, and I just want to make sure you get to someday. I support blowing off steam, I just don't want you to do something reckless."
Angel's eyes narrowed at her and Judith could tell she was toeing the line. "I don't want to just sit here and…cry," Angel said, his voice hard. "Fuck that."
"Fine," Judith agreed. "What about trying to sleep?"
Angel shook his head. "No way. I couldn't."
"Eat?"
"It'll just work me up more."
Judith held back her sigh - and any hope she had of sleeping tonight. "Then let's go for a walk," she said, standing up.
"A walk?" Angel asked, raising an eyebrow dubiously.
"A walk," Judith repeated, starting across the room. "And if we happen to find ourselves in a dark alley where there happens to be a hungry monster, I'd appreciate it if you could…blow off some steam in its direction."
The thing in the cage was not human.
That wasn't really a problem, since William and Calder's mentor wasn't human and they dealt with non-human beings almost every week. But the thing in the cage was like…really not human. Like, it didn't even really seem like a demon kind of not human.
It was impossible to say why; there was a quality to the thing's eyes as it looked up at them: a shimmering purple-green color with oblong pupils, dull with an obvious pain, and full of a sharp intelligence that spoke of a creature that had lived and seen and experienced things William would never know.
The sound that had made William feel sad had been coming from this creature. It had stopped, now, and merely looked up at them with wary resignation. It was shaped like a lizard, with a long flat body, four short legs, and a stubby tail, but it was clearly not a lizard. Instead of scales it had smooth, jelly-looking, semi-transparent skin, and its face was round and flat like a human's. Instead of fingers and toes it had dozens of tiny tentacles (or cilia, was probably more accurate). William guessed that if it had stood on its back legs it might reach two feet tall.
"Think we found our mission?" Calder asked as he started to inspect the cage.
"Seems likely," William agreed, glancing around the rest of the room. "Cameras," he said, nodding to the two cameras in the far corners of the room.
"I don't hear alarms yet," Calder replied. "I don't think they're watching."
"Still," William said, moving toward one of the equipment tables, "don't try to break the lock until we've looked around a bit."
"I'm just looking," Calder assured him.
The room was rectangular and set up with the strangest cross of magic and technology that William had ever seen. The mirror, for instance, had four pieces of quartz fixed to it; one in each corner. Quartz was a magical amplifier, and mirrors were often used in spells to reflect magic.
Yet the mirror was wired to a computer terminal on the other side of the room. Wires were only used these days when there was a need to isolate a particular signal (or prevent a cross-signal, sometimes). What kind of signal did a computer need to send to a mirror?
There were three other computer terminals; everything was turned off and clean. No drives to swipe to examine later or offer to Gabrielle to buy her protection. No crumpled up papers in the trash can. Not even a stray pen on the desk.
"Will," Calder's voice said. William turned to see Calder rummaging through the trash can next to the cage. "I think this is its food…" He pulled out a small handful of something that - from the other side of the room - might have been gravel. It sounded like it, anyway.
"What is it?"
"Oyster shells, I think." Calder replied. "Shells, anyway. Some have, like, teeth marks or something. Looks like it doesn't like the nubby bit where the two shells join together. It leaves it like an apple core or something. Also," he wrinkled his nose, looking back into the trash can, "I just realized that the goo in the bottom there is probably its poo…"
William wrinkled his nose, too. "What do you think they're using it for? The creature?"
Calder shook his head. "Your guess, mate. Well-" Calder tossed the shell nubs back into the trash can and wiped his hands off on his trousers. He looked back at the creature again, considering. "What do you think? Time to break open the cage?"
"Sanity check," William said. He usually said this at some point in every mission. Calder tended to roll through the mission, trusting a certain amount in fate to lead them down the correct path. William, however, liked to question that trust - at least when they had the time, as they seemed to right now. "There's an empty bedroom out there and this thing clearly isn't using it. Are we sure we're not supposed to be rescuing a human?"
Calder nodded in acknowledgement of William's process. More than once, William's methodology had saved the mission. (More than once, also, Calder's methodology had been right. They were a good team.) "Angel said it was 'someone who was afraid of something.' This poor fellow looks pretty afraid. Maybe the bedroom is for its guard."
The creature did look afraid. And tired. And sad. William went over to its cage and knelt so that he was eye-level with it. Angel had also said that there was a strong sense of needing to go home. On the chance that that wasn't referring to Angel needing to go home because of Connor, William asked, "Do you want to go home, buddy?"
The creature blinked warily and then took a step forward toward William. It made that sad grunting moan again.
William nodded. "I'm satisfied," he said. "I have no idea where 'home' might be for this guy but I guess we'll figure that out in the next step, huh?" He glanced back at the cameras as he stood up. "I'll disarm those. They've recorded us in here already, but we don't need to give them more than that."
William took out his dagger, heading over to the camera with the better angle on Calder, who also had drawn a knife. The creature started making its strange noises again, but this time even more high-pitched and fearful sounding.
"Don't worry, buddy," Calder told it soothingly. "This isn't for you. This is for the highly questionable lock on your cage. These Watchers are too old-fashioned for their own good. Yes they are. It should juuuuust be a quick…matter…of…"
Calder's metallic clicking of the knife in the padlock combined in a nice little harmony with William's dagger poking through the glass lens of the camera with a crack-tinkle-tinkle as the pieces of glass fell to the floor. He crossed the room to the other one.
"Damn," Calder muttered. "I might need to get out my lockpicking- Ah-ha!"
The lock clicked open as the glass from the second camera fell to the floor.
Then there was a third click near the open door as someone cocked the hammer of their gun.