The Paladin Project 1 – Prodigal
Title: The Paladin Project 1 – Prodigal
Rating: R (For Language later)
Relationships:
Story: Action\Adventure
Feedback: In lieu of a Faithbot yeah.
E-Mail: KeithWrestle@Yahoo.Co.uk
Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters just worship at their altar.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Any ideas Faith?”
The raven-haired Slayer glanced across at her companion with disgust. “Gee Woodie, I don’t know, you, me, and six Ubers. I’m thinking orgy maybe?” If she was on her own she could maybe run, but with Wood in tow that option was out. Man, these Ubers were scary mothers.
“I’d pay to watch that.” Faith blinked at the strange yet oddly familiar voice behind her. “Even supply the baby oil. But maybe we’ll get rid of the ubers first.”
Suddenly a pair of figures burst past her even as another duo appeared behind the ubers facing her. “What the fuck!” the four figures tore into the ubers, their swords flashing.
Faith took a second to inspect their rescuers. One was an African-American in his late thirties who despite his thickly muscled bulk moved with an amazing finesse and wielded his katana with a skill that she only could dream of. But as good as the dark-skinned man was with a blade, the two men behind the ubers were even better. Both men looked to be related, perhaps brothers or cousins and worked together with an ease that hinted at years of practice. The strangest character though was a slight man with the white face of a mimic who tore into the ubers with a breath-taking brutality; easily taking hits that would have knocked her flat on her gorgeous ass and staggering the demons with punches she would have been proud of.
As the last uber exploded into dust, she turned to the trenchcoated man who’d appeared by her side and drooled. He was a tall brown-haired man who must have weighed 220lbs easy but not a body-builder’s bulk, rather the lithe functionality of a top class athlete. There was something about him that reminded her of somebody in her past, course with her past that still left a hell of a field. Suddenly the African-American spoke, his deep voice gravelly. “What next kid?”
“Back to base Blade. Leave the Slayer and her boytoy to clean up.”
Boytoy. Faith’s eyes widened. Now she had it, it was Harris, some sixty pounds heavier than the last time she’d seen him and way better dressed but definitely the Xman. Suddenly her lips parted in a snarl as she remembered what the bastard had done. Drawing back her hand she started towards the man only for an arm to snake out of the surrounding darkness and restrain her. Growling ferally she looked up. Her mouth dropped open. “Angel! What the fuck are you doing protecting that prick?”
Her mentor smiled thinly. “Who says I’m protecting him?”
Faith’s blood chilled as she saw the sawn-off shotgun muzzle peeking out of the man’s trenchcoat and the cold look in the man’s eyes. Suddenly Harris was a very serious player. “He got you sent hell!” she blustered.
“And saved the world in the process,” the vampire replied evenly. “Let’s not forget you trying to kill him eh? Just call it a draw.”
“Deadboy,” it was Xander. “You got the attack dog under control yet?”
Angel let out a groan. “You’ve heard of diplomacy Xander?”
“Heard of it,” the man chuckled, “not got much use for it though. Got a minute, in private?”
Angel nodded and started towards the man. She began to follow only to find her way blocked by the black man. “Xander said private,” the man growled.
“Never was much good at following orders,” she attempted to push past the man only for the man to push her back.
“Don’t try me little girl.” Faith blinked, he was close to as strong as her.
* * *
“What a fucking mess.”
I don’t see your problem Xander,” Angel said innocently, “we saved two innocents isn’t that a good thing?”
His friend sent him a withering glance. “Faith, an innocent? That’s a real strange definition of the word Deadboy. That’s right laugh it up, I definitely preferred you broody.”
“Yeah I wonder who changed me?”
“I blame Wesley,” his straight-faced friend retorted.
“Wesley?”
“You know all the music hall jokes, Benny Hill routines,” his friend sighed. “Fuck Angel what do we do next?”
The vampire looked at his friend with concern. For all the skills and experience Xander had amassed over the past four years he was still terrified of Buffy. “Xander, I’ll go back with Faith and fill the others in. Tell them how things stand.”
Xander’s shoulders slumped in relief. “You sure? You and her don’t exactly get on these days.”
“Yeah I know but she’s not never tried to kill me,” he hid a wince at his friend’s sudden loss of colour. “But I’ll need back-up in case she gets insistent.”
“Take the McLeods and Eric,” his friend offered. “I think Blade can protect me.”
“Prevent you from getting in trouble you mean,” Angel replied dryly.
“You wound me Sir Vampire,” Xander grinned. “So you think my dad and Jack have bonded with Wes yet?”
“Unlikely,” the vampire replied dryly.
* * *
“Angel!”
Buffy moved to engulf him as he made his way into the lounge but he stepped aside, evading her grasp. “Buffy,” he said neutrally, his even tone betraying none of the anger he felt. Angel nodded at Giles, smiled at Dawn, and ignored Willow’s attempts to get his attention.
“B,” it was Faith, “we got big trouble, Xand’s back and he’s got some serious back-up.”
“What!” Buffy’s eyes flashed dangerously. “That bastard! I thought he’d learnt his lesson the last time. I’ll-.”
“You’ll do nothing!” Angel thundered. “You and your fists of fury did enough damage last time.”
“You know what he did. He-.”
“He saved the world,” Angel interrupted coldly. “If Xander hadn’t lied to you you’d have held back, stalled, to try and delay me from opening Acathla. And if you hadn’t come at me full tilt I would have beaten you.”
“Yeah, like you could ever -.”
His fist smashed into Spike’s jaw lifting the bleached blonde vampire off his feet and dumping him on the ground. Snarling, Spike attempted to rise only to stop as the McLeods held their swords at his neck. “Be quiet childe,” Angel growled, “your better is talking.”
“It was my decision!” Buffy shouted. “He had no right -.”
Angel felt his temper snap. “No Buffy! You’re the one who had no right to hospitalise a powerless innocent who’d saved your life four times that I know of! That had twice saved you from Angelus!”
“What do you mean?” this was from Dawn.
“Buffy went patrolling with the flu,” Angel didn’t move his angry gaze from the blonde,” I more or less beat her into unconsciousness before Xander put my head in a sack and kneed me in the face. Later I went to the hospital to kill, rape, and turn her.” The Slayer paled. “But Xander was waiting and backed me off. And what you did to a man who’d have gladly laid down his life for you,” Angel decided to tell the Slayer the entire truth. “It wasn’t Giles who found Xander after you’d beat him to a pulp it was me.”
“What!”
Angel ignored Buffy’s shout. “I figured with Graduation being the next day it would be my last chance to try and apologise to Giles for what I’d done. Instead I found Xander lying in a pool of blood, barely hanging onto consciousness and muttering your name again and again. I thought he was muttering the name of his hero not his attacker. I tried to comfort him, held him in my arms, and told him,” he glared at the fidgeting Slayer, “told him we’d get the demon that’d done it. Even thought it might have been Faith to get at you the beating was so brutal.”
“And then I entered the library, saw Angel hovering over Xander and came to the obvious conclusion,” Giles broke in, his face set in a grim line. “ I attacked him, Angel sought to restrain me but I was a wild man. If Cordelia,” Giles broke away from his recital to stare at Buffy, “hadn’t awoken from her beating to tell us what happened who knows what might have occurred. Tell me Buffy, what had Cordelia done to get her black eye, concussion and dislocated shoulder – try and stop Xander’s assault I believe?”
“Still next to Xander she got off lightly – a concussion, perforated eardrum, broken right collarbone, broken jaw and nose, three cracked ribs, sprained left wrist, three broken fingers, a bruised kidney, and,” Angel winced, “a ruptured testicle.” Spike began to chuckle. “Quiet childe or I’ll stake you right now.” Once Spike had fallen silent he continued. “I waited until Xander was stabilised then arranged for Giles to have him transferred to L.A. so Cordelia and I could look after him. After all I didn’t want you to have another chance to kill him on my behalf. After four months he was fit enough to start training and working with me.”
“So that’s where Xander’s been the last four years?” Willow broke in. “Working with you?”
“For a few months. Then Cordy had a vision that Faith was coming so I advised Xander to leave before Buffy inevitably arrived.”
“So what’s he been doing?”
He smiled at Dawn. “He’s been hunting independently.”
“Oh I bet Droopy’s a raging success.”
Growling ferally Angel crossed the room in a blur and slammed a foot into his grand-childe’s balls causing Spike to scream in pain.
“How dare you!”
Angel stared impassively at the furious blonde. “I dare for one very simple reason. If anything happens to me, my very good friend Demonsbane will kill you. And that’s if my companions here don’t manage it.”
The tense silence that followed Angel’s pronouncement was broken seconds later by Giles’ explosion. “You’re saying Xander is Demonsbane?”
Angel nodded and smiled. “Yes.”
“Who’s Demonsbane?” the question came from Dawn but everyone except his companions, Spike, Wood, and Giles looked confused.
It was Giles who answered a dazed expression on his face. “Demonsbane is the bogeyman, the myth that demons, vampires, and other denizens of the occult underworld fear above all other. His skill and ruthlessness are legendary. What’s Xander actually done? There are so many rumours.”
“Here’s just a few edited highlights. March ’00 helped Blade-.”
“Bloody hell!” Spike turned even paler than usual.
“Eliminate a demon dealer in human children in San Diego. In Jun ’00, he helped Lady Croft foil an occult artefact smuggling ring. In July,” Angel glanced at the intently listening brunette Slayer, “Xander saved your life.”
“Well fuck, I know I’m not the brightest bulb in the lamp but I think I’d remember that!”
Angel ignored the interruption. “The Council put out a contract on you with the Order. Xander got to the assassin, took his head, and sent it back to Travers with a note warning him that if any more attempts were made on your life he’d answer to him. That’s the man you were going to attack tonight.” Angel savoured the embarrassed look on Faith’s face. At least one Slayer appeared willing to admit when she’d made a mistake. “In Sept ‘00, he prevented a demonic hit on Tony Stark.”
“Xander knows Tony Stark!” that came from a high-pitched sounding teen he didn’t recognise. “That is so cool!”
“In December ’00 he prevented a revived Atlantean High Mage from resurrecting Atlantis,” judging from the looks on Willow’s and Giles’ faces they knew exactly what that meant, “in the same month he helped the FBI hunt down a demon-worshipping serial killer.”
“Bloody hell,” Giles appeared to be the only one left with the power of speech.
“January ’01 was a busy month too. He helped Doctor Strange,” Willow’s mouth dropped open at the mention of the world’s premier occultist, “stop a dimensional eater and the Charmed Ones deal with a magically immune witch-hunter. Then in March 01, he saved Jack Crow, the Vatican’s top gun, from a vampire attack. May ’01, he helped the Charmed Ones imprison a fallen angel. In June 01, he helped his real father,” he saw Willow and Buffy exchange puzzled glances,” deal with an alien-shape shifter.”
“I always knew there were -.”
The high-pitched man shut up at a golden flicker of his eyes. “Sept 01, he helped Eric,” he nodded towards the slight man stood beside him, “deal with a group of vampires preying on his club’s patrons. In Oct 01, he executed an Oriental sorcerer running an extortion racket throughout the U.S.’ Chinese communities. In Feb 02, he helped Jack Crow rescue the Cardinal in charge of their demon hunting program from a pack of vampires intending to turn him. In May 02, he helped Blade rescue a dozen kids from a cult planning to sacrifice them to summon an apocalypse. In Jun ’02, he blew up the Takaran HQ.” The room exploded in commotion, Angel waited until the room had quietened before continuing. “Wolfram & Hart put a contract out on him; Xander tends to be direct these days. In Aug 02 he helped Lady Croft and James Bond foil a plot to mass-hypnotise the U.N. Security Council. In Nov 02, he ran into the Scourge,” Angel grimaced as he remembered Doyle’s death to save him, “and helped the McLeods deal with them. In January of this year, he helped his dad and a double-agent foil a terrorist plot to take over a military base and unit. Oh, and 2 weeks ago he helped my gang save the world from one of the ancients.”
Giles swallowed. “I think I need to sit down.”
“S..so you’re saying Xander has worked for the Vatican, the UN, FBI, the Pentagon, and the world’s second’s richest man?” Dawn asked, her eyes as big as saucers.
“More they, and the CIA and the British government owe him big.” Angel replied candidly.
“And a lot of people too,” Eric broke in, “Xander’s been real busy setting up the Paladin Project.”
“What’s the Paladin Project?” Buffy demanded.
Angel regarded his ex sadly before answering. How could he have been so wrong about her? All the qualities he’d once so admired had faded away leaving a bitter and selfish harpy. “Tony Stark is above all else a humanitarian. When he learned of the world’s dark under-belly, he immediately gave Xander sole charge of a one billon dollar trust fund,” there was a thud when the squeaky-voiced man fell to the floor in a faint, “to use for fighting demons. In addition to setting up a dozen groups across the nation with substantial annual budgets, Xander has also created a network of uniquely talented contacts who all fight evil in one way or another and will assist other team members in case of an emergency.”
“That’s great,” Buffy broke in. “With the First in town we need all the help we can get. “Tell them -.”
Eric laughed. “We don’t take orders from you.”
“Who then?” the blonde glared at first Eric and then him. “Are you in charge?”
“No, Xander.”
“Xander!” Buffy laughed derisively.
“Xander’s the man who paid your back property taxes after your mother died, although that was for Dawn rather than you. Xander’s the man who paid off your mother’s medical bills. And Xander’s not the man who assaults his friends or tosses aside a man who’d acted as their father for three years in favour of a power-hungry maniac. Xander’s not the one who twice forced the same father-figure to take a murderous vampire into their home. I could go on but the bottom line is Xander has proven his loyalty, dedication to the cause, and leadership ability beyond doubt. You,” Angel shook his head, “you’re not even close. We’d follow Xander into hell, you we wouldn’t follow to the end of the street. Let’s go.”
“Wait!”
Angel turned back to Willow. “Yes?” his clipped tone showing exactly what he’d thought of someone who'd abandon their oldest friend without a second thought.
The Wicca faltered under his gaze. “Why does he still fight?”
“Some,” he glared at Buffy, “have to be forced into the fight against darkness. Others, Faith and I for example, fight the darkness to earn redemption. Others, the true heroes like Xander, having seen the darkness find they cannot idly stand by and allow the innocent and helpless be consumed by it.” After shaking Giles by his hand and hugging Dawn he turned to his companions. “Let’s go.”
The Paladin Project 2 – Doubts & Decisions
“Colonel O’ Neill have you seen Xander?”
The Air Force Colonel looked up with a grin. “Afraid not, and it’s Jack.”
Sydney smiled back at the Colonel. “Okay Jack, thanks anyway.” How could anybody doubt the parental link between O’Neill and Xander wondered the secret agent? They shared the same infectious smile, good-humoured eyes, easy manner that hid a steely determination and fierce loyalty to people and causes they believed in. “I’ll try the gym.”
She turned away from the man only for him to grab her arm; a look of what she hoped was mock-seriousness on his face. “Sydney, I trust your intentions to my son are strictly honourable.”
“Ah, but where would be the fun in that?” she smiled at the man’s answering amused snort. “If anyone wants me I’ll be downstairs.” At the Colonel’s nod, she hurried away from the lounge and down to the basement.
It was quite a set-up Xander had here, mused the secret agent. The emergency facility hid behind the facade of a three storey mansion in one of Sunnydale’s most exclusive suburbs. Its twelve feet high brick wall and imposing steel gate concealed all manner of security equipment - CCTV cameras, steel reinforced front door, motion and infra-red sensors as well as bullet-proof glass were just the relatively normal ones. Rather more specialised was the security lights that could blanket ultra-violet light over the entire grounds at the flick of a switch inside the house, and the holy water sprinklers hidden in the gardens.
Inside the mansion, the ground floor, the only floor any casual visitor to the building would gain access to, everything seemed normal – the games room, the dining room, kitchens, and lounge all seemed normal although eyebrows might have been raised at the vast collection of occult books in the library. But it was the pass-worded first, second, and basement floors that held the mansion’s real secrets. The basement held a gym the equal to any in the world containing aerobics, weights and dojo equipment as well as a shooting range and a vast selection of practice weaponry for hand to hand combat as well as the lavishly equipped garage, and the escape tunnel. The first floor held the male and female dorms and also the main armoury, shooting range, and the briefing room. But it was the top floor that held the heart of the building, the when occupied 24 hour a day crisis centre.
The crisis centre was filled with the most up-to-date Stark technology that not only controlled the house’s external and internal security system but also enabled the centre to tap into any phone anywhere in the world while also ensuring that the building was itself unbuggable. The room’s capabilities didn’t end there, also allowing the team to hack into the city’s CCTV camera system and even had its own purpose-built satellite hovering over the city, capable of going wherever ordered.
Even in her days in SD-6 she’d never been surrounded by as varied and a dangerous group of individuals – Blade, Angel, and Jack Crow all managed to make her nervous. She didn’t know how Xander could organise such a group and such a building. He had resources she’d never dreamed of and he was just a kid, nearly ten years her junior.
Still, Sydney smiled softly, Xander had always been unusual. Her smile broadened as she remembered her first meeting with him eighteen months ago.
* * *
Sydney hit the floor in a forward roll, dodging beneath the two beasts’ flashing swords. What the hell was happening? This was meant to be a simple retrieval mission, but instead she was battling these escapees from a Conan movie. She started to rise, moving into a spin kick.
“Stay down!” The agent instinctively dropped back down, flattening herself to the ground as a shot boomed out twice and the beasts attacking her screamed before also dropping to the ground. “You can get up now.”
Sydney’s mouth dropped open as she regarded the friendly-looking young man who’d rescued her. He looked to be twenty at the most, younger even than she’d been when first recruited by SD-6. “Who are you?” she demanded.
“I’m sorry Agent Bristow,” the youth grinned lopsidedly at her, “you’re not cleared to know that.” Her eyes widened, who did the kid think he was talking to? The young man’s face turned serious. “Did you get any slime off them on you?” She nodded; the youth groaned. “You’d better strip.”
“What!” Angry now, she started towards the man only to stop when he pointed his shotgun at her and stepped back out of easy reach.
“Agent Bristow, the blood of those creatures is high corrosive. Within three minutes they’d start to eat through your cat-suit. Another couple of minutes after that and you’ll be on the floor, screaming, begging me to blow your brains out, to stop the pain.”
Sydney paled and, impressed by the sincerity in the man’s voice, obeyed. “Alright but you’d better explain what’s going on.”
“You’re here about Jesus Castillo, the Cuban mercenary arranger, correct?” she nodded reluctantly, unwilling to give up information but it seemed as if he already knew anyway. “Remove your gloves last, don’t risk contaminating your hands,” the man instructed before continuing. “What you don’t know is that Castillo has another highly lucrative sideline namely,” the man hesitated, “namely the supply of demons to the lords of the underworld.”
“Demons! Are you nuts!”
The man sighed. “Look at the two bodies at your feet Agent Bristow, did you ever see anything like them on the cover of National Geographic?”
Sydney glanced down at the grey-skinned troll-like beasts on the ground and nodded, her rescuer had a point. Suddenly she realised the now blushing man was offering her his trenchcoat. Smiling slightly she took the offered coat. “You’re quite the gentleman aren’t you?” she teased lightly. “First rescuing a damsel in distress and then offering her your coat.”
The man smiled tightly. “Growing up with the women I did, manners had nothing to do with it, just simple self-preservation. So Agent Bristow, I’ve read your file.” Her mouth dropped open. Her file? How could a kid get hold of her file? “Would you be interested in some freelance work?”
“Freelance? I’m afraid my employers don’t allow their operatives to work freelance. Besides,” she grinned at the man. “You couldn’t afford me.”
“I’ve got Agency head clearance. Besides,” the young man winked cockily. “I can afford more than you’d think.”
* * *
Her smile withered and died as she watched the solitary man in the gym pound on a heavy bag. His movements were a blur, incorporating a level of skill that she for all her training could only dream of, but it was the look on her friend’s face that worried her. She’d only worked with him on three occasions in the time she’d known him but she’d never seen him frightened. Pushing the door open she walked into the spacious gym. “Hi Xander.”
The man turned to her and smiled. “Hi Syd.”
Sydney nodded, noticing the way Xander’s grin lacked its usual infectious warmth, seeming strained and forced, before walking over to the man. “Xander, talk to me.”
“About what?”
“About why you’ve been so edgy since you got back from patrol. About why you’ve ordered a World-End alert. About anything, just talk Xander.”
After a second her friend nodded slowly. “Could you pass me a towel please?”
She pouted playfully as she complied. “Spoilsport, take away one of life’s great pleasures – sweaty hunk.”
Xander chuckled dryly. “My alert didn’t pull you away from anything important?”
Sydney shook her head. “With SD-6 gone and the Alliance crippled I’m kind of on hiatus right now. Besides with clearance you’ve wrangled, only the Deputy Head up can countermand your request.”
“Hey this is strictly voluntary. I don’t press-gang people. If you don’t want to be here.”
“Just joking Xander,” she soothed. “I wouldn’t miss a change to see my favourite jester. So this is where you come from? How does the small-town boy become a legendary demon hunter anyway?”
The young man’s eyes gleamed bitterly. “Short version. Boy gets brought up by parents whose main hobbies seem to be how much they can drink and how much they can beat him. At age 15 boys meets beautiful blonde and falls head over heels for her,” Xander smiled wryly, “in this case literally. Girl isn’t interested, boy’s too ordinary for her. But boy fights beside the girl for three years, battling demons and gains self-esteem and a father he’d never had before. Then the day before he’s going to graduate,” the youth’s face tightened. “The boy gets called to a meeting at the library where his gang hang out. Suddenly his hero attacks him, this beautiful blonde he’s loved from the first day he saw, beats him into a three day coma. Then, and this is where things gets really ironic, the girl’s demon lover turns up and saves the boy’s life, takes him, and nurses him back to health.”
Sydney’s heart ached at the pain she heard in her friend’s voice. “Is that why you’re scared? Because of her?”
“Buffy, no not really,” Xander shook his head. “It’s this place, Sunnydale. Outside of Sunnydale I’m someone, Demonsbane. But here I’m just Alexander Lavelle Harris, town loser. “
“I understand your problem,” she
nodded. “I’d be worried if my middle name was Lavelle too.” Smiling slightly
at the man’s chuckle she reached up and stroked the man’s face. “There’s a lot
people in this building who happen to think Alexander Lavelle Harris is pretty
special.”
“Thanks Syd,” Xander grinned. “Now we’re going to keep the Lavelle bit between ourselves right?”
She opened her mouth to reply only for the gym door to swing open. “Xander,” it was a worried looking Angel. “Giles is on the phone for you.”
* * *
“You’re saying you can’t magically track Xander?” Buffy demanded angrily as she paced the dining room floor.
“No, somebody’s blocking my access,” Willow replied meekly. “That amount of power I’m guessing the Charmed Ones.”
“Maybe you should take a hint, Buffy. Obviously Xander doesn’t want to traced,” Giles suggested.
“That liar doesn’t get to bring his own private army into my town!”
“Your town?” this time the comment came from an incredulous looking Dawn. “Who died and made your Queen of Sunnydale? This was Xander’s home way before we came here Buffy.”
“Yeah and he ran away,” Buffy shot back.
“And what was he supposed to do B?” This time it was Faith’s turn to butt in. “Stay around for round 2? I was with you before but if Angel -.”
“Angel’s got no right! It was my decision to make, I’m the Slayer! Willow, start looking on the computer, there must be some record. Hotel records, something.”
Faith shook her head. “Fuck this.” The brunette started for the dining room door.
“I didn’t say you could leave,” Buffy snapped.
“I didn’t ask.” The brunette sneered up at Spike stood blocking her path. “Get out of my way bleach-job or soul or no soul, B will be carrying you around in an urn.”
“And on that note, I too will retire to bed,” Giles groaned as several heads turned to him. “Different ones obviously.”
“Damn straight.”
Once in his room, Giles pulled out the piece of paper that Angel had slipped into his pocket and quickly dialled the number contained on it on his mobile. “Hello? Ah yeas, Mr Whyndham-Pryce, Rupert Giles here. Could I speak to Xander?”
Ten minutes later he’d caught up with the youth he considered his son and warned him of Buffy’s intentions. After hanging up the Watcher he let out a weary sigh, today he felt every day of his 48 years. Where had it all gone wrong? At first he’d thought Buffy had such potential – he’d marvelled at her spirit and determination, but had failed to notice her selfishness and basic immaturity.
“Naughty, naughty Watcher, using a phone to make a secret call in a house with two Slayers and a vampire with super hearing, now that wasn’t very smart was it?”
Giles bit back a groan as he turned to face the figure stood in the now open doorway of his room. He was in a world of trouble. “And what would you suggest Faith?” he asked archly even as he eyed his truncheon lying on the desk. If he could get to that, maybe, just maybe he could knock the Slayer out and escape. It was a slight chance, but it was the only one he had and he wouldn’t let either Slayer hurt Xander again, even at the cost of his own life. “Should I have made my phone call under my bed sheets perhaps?”
A smile played on the brunette’s full lips, she walked over to the desk, blocking his hoped for salvation. “That would have made listening in harder, more interesting but harder. Used to pick pockets when I was living on the streets otherwise I wouldn’t have seen Angel passing you the paper.”
“So what do you intend to do?” He was trapped, with the Slayer barring his route to his weapon even that small hope had gone.
“Depends.” The Slayer’s smile reminded him of a shark’s.
“On what?”
“On if you’ll take me with you when you blow amateur hour and go play with the big boys.”
“If you think I’m going to let you hurt Xander -.”
“Fuck G,” the Slayer cut him off with an angry shake of the head. “I was major pissed with Xand but if Angel says Xman did the right thing that’s five by five by me. Besides I’m sick of the bleached and the brainless sideshow, only one vamp gives me orders. Xman’s got some serious players backing him. And,” Faith looked down at the carpet, her customary brashness deserting her, “way Angel tells it Xand saved my life when I was inside. I never even thanked him for the first time.”
Impressed by the sincerity he heard in the Slayer’s voice Giles nodded. “Very well.”
Faith beamed at him. “Wicked! I wanna bring Woodie and Pipsqueak too.”
“Pipsqueak?” Giles paused. “I’m not comfortable with the idea of separating Dawn from her sister.”
“Fuck G, B hardly notices anyone except her pet vampire and maybe Red. Dawn’s better off out of here.”
“You realise that would put us on a collision course with Buffy.”
Faith shrugged. “So? I’d back Xman’s team against this gang any day. B’s lost the plot G, live with it.” Giles nodded sadly, every word of what Faith said was unfortunately true.
The Paladin Project 3 – First Strike
“Bloody hell Xander, it’s good to see you!”
“Lara!” Xander laughed as he swept the English aristocrat into his arms and spun her round. “You came!”
“I could hardly turn down a chance to see my favourite toyboy now could I?” the explorer chuckled at his flush. “I brought the information you asked for.”
”Great, thanks.”
“I trust I’m not going to be engulfed in a bear-hug.”
Xander smiled at the dry voice. He turned towards its owner, a handsome slightly-built man in his mid-forties dressed in designer casuals and with air of suave sophistication that didn’t fully conceal the man’s aura of danger. “I’ll have to settle for a handshake then.” Still grinning he hurried over to the man. “Glad you could make it James.”
He was answered by a chuckle and a slight smile. “Given the trouble you always seem to get me into I could hardly say no now could I? Particularly as my employers owe you so many favours.”
Xander flushed in embarrassment. “Yeah right,” he turned to the others. “Guys this is Lady Lara Croft,” he indicated the beautiful and statuesque brunette, “and James Bond.” He turned back to the newcomers, “why don’t you introduce yourselves around. Angel, Wes, Blade, with me in the study.”
* * *
Xander threw down the notes in his frustration. “This is all rumours! No solid facts!”
“I’m sure Lady Croft did the best she could.”
Xander hid a smile at Wesley’s stiff tone. Behind the stubble and new clothes the former Watcher was still the same English gentleman. “I know Wes, and we’re not likely to get any better information that this, not with the Council gone and Strange off in another dimension, I mean what’s the use of mobiles? I want a new network that spans the inter-dimensional grid,” he coughed as he realised the strange looks his comments were gaining him. “It’s just..” Suddenly a thought occurred to him. “One thing does stand out though. The First seems to like working through priests who have lost their faith, all his major disciples have been defrocked holy men.”
“So?”
“As verbose as ever Angel,” Xander grinned. “So if the First likes working through former holy men maybe he uses the same principle when encamping his troops.”
“An interesting possibility,” Wesley commented. “And this helps us how?”
“Just a theory Wes. Just a theory.” Xander smiled slowly before turning to Angel and Blade. “This is what I need you to do tomorrow night.”
* * *
“This,” Xander pointed at the blown-up photograph stuck on the briefing wall behind him, “is St. Leonard’s. Built in 1920s it was abandoned in 1986. And,” Xander glanced toward Blade and nodded, “is the major hiding place of the Bringers located in town. About 200 in all.”
“So what’s the plan?” Jack Crow growled, “I’m itching to do some violence.”
Xander grinned. “So glad you asked,” he glanced towards his father. “Colonel O’ Neill do you want to go through the plan?” It was his plan, worked out with assistance from the Colonel and Angel, but although he’d worked with every person in the room at least twice, he’d never led such a large group before, particularly of people who nearly all had a ton more combat experience. He was more than happy to hide in the background and work through the more experienced members of the team.
Unfortunately the SG-1 Colonel had other ideas. “Sure Xander, good plan by the way,” he grimaced in embarrassment. “The Charmed Ones will magically,” it was his father’s turn to grimace, he’d obviously not got used to the idea of magic, “start a fire towards the back of the church. Once the Bringers start to flee through the doors myself, Teal’C, and Frank Castle, will be on the rooftops opposite with snipers rifles to pick them off.”
“Excuse me,” it was Paige Matthews, “but isn’t that a little cold-blooded?”
“Paige,” Xander decided to interrupt, his voice soft but firm. “My information is that these demon-worshippers have butchered over 150 teenage girls in the past 18 months in the U.S. alone. Why? Because they might be Slayers.”
“Oh,” the young witch sat back down.
After a second Colonel O’ Neill continued. “The ones that get past us will head into one of four alleys 200 yards in front of the church. In each of the alleys will be one of Angel, Xander, Eric Draven, & Blade.”
“There’s two other exits,” Crow growled.
“Yeah, Xander thought of that,” O’Neill said laconically. “You Mr. Crow will be situated in the copse 120 yards behind the church with Gunn, Rybaeck, Whyndham-Pryce, and Bond.”
“Fucking great,” grunted the Vatican’s top gun, “two Brits and a chef - sounds like the punch line to a really shit joke.”
O’Neill ignored Crow’s mutterings. “There’s also a right side door but that will be covered by the McLeods and Amanda. However where the fire is planned, these two doors will be mostly cut off so the majority of the Bringers will come out of the front. Major Carter will be in charge of base operations while we’re out on operation. Any questions?”
* * *
“Xander can we talk?”
The young man glanced up from setting up his equipment to see he was surrounded by a concerned-looking O’Neill and Angel. “Sure guys.”
“In private.”
Xander raised an eyebrow at O’Neill’s tone. “Sure.” He led his father and best friend down into the basement, after closing the door behind them he turned to the others. “What’s up guys?”
“Xander, you should have been the one giving the mission briefing. It was your plan and you’re our leader.”
Leader, ah that dreaded word again. He glanced down at the floor. “I’m pretty good in a fight. I can even train and lead a bunch of street kids to fight vamps. But you guys?” Xander shook his head. “I can’t command you guys. You’ve been in the Air Force for longer than I’ve been alive, been to dozens of alien worlds. Angel’s a Master Vampire. Blade’s the vampire bogeyman. Jack Crow’s been hunting vampires since the seventies. James Bond’s a freakin’ legend and the Charmed Ones are the most powerful Wiccas in the world. And the rest of you are just legitimate bad asses. I’m way out of my league now.”
“Xander sit down.”
The freelance demon hunter paled at the unexpected firmness in the soldier’s tone. Once he’d sat down his biological father began to talk. “For god’s sake Xander it wasn’t me who Tony Stark entrusted a one billion dollar trust fund to. It wasn’t Angel who organised the Paladin Project and has the pull to get all these ‘bad asses’ off their normal assignments and here.”
“Yeah but -.”
O’Neill let out a sigh. “Xander, after you told me about the soldier who possessed you I did a little digging. He has quite a history, would you like to hear it?”
“Sure,” Xander nodded. He guessed whatever answer he gave he was going to hear it anyway. And although he could access the soldier’s instincts, skills, and knowledge, he couldn’t access his specific memories so he would be interested in learning more about the soldier who shared the terrifying abyss that was his head.
“The soldier who possessed you wasn’t an U.S. soldier but British.” Xander’s eyes widened, he hadn’t expected that. “He was Sgt. Alfred Edwards. Born on 18th March 1924, he signed up in early 1941 and was a commando before joining the forerunner of the SAS, the Long Range Desert Group. As well as fighting in the European theatre in World War II, he also served in the SAS in Malaysia and Borneo before leaving in 1970. During his career he won the Brit’s major honour the Victoria Cross, a Military Medal and bar, and a Military Cross. Our own government also award him a Silver Star and a Purple Heart, and he was also decorated by the French, Dutch, and Malaysian governments.”
“Shit,” Xander’s mouth dropped open.
“Xander,” he glanced at an even more serious looking than normal Angel. “Before you became Demonsbane you were still the man who brought Buffy back to life, who backed down Angelus, who planned the Judge’s demise, who saved Faith from a Jhe demon, and who organised the Mayor’s downfall.”
“Damn it Angel, people died because of my plan – Oz, Anaya, Harmony, and Larry.” The pain of his failure still hurt today. Even more than his beating it was those deaths that he hated Buffy for, if he’d been there maybe he’d have been able to do something.
“But plenty of people lived who would have otherwise died,” Angel retorted. “You might not have been there, but it was your plan that saved a lot of people that day.”
After a second he nodded reluctantly. It was time to stop ducking his responsibilities; Tony had made it clear the Project was his responsibility. “Fine, so let’s get this done,” he rose and headed for the door.
“I’ve read that information you gave out on The First, I didn’t understand much of it.”
“Didn’t understand much of it?” Angel chuckled, “he’s your dad alright.”
Xander ignored Angel’s comment to look at his father.” I can help you with it,” he offered.
“I’d rather get the information off Lady Croft, she is the source.” His father winked at him.
“Don’t go there dad. Trust me she’ll break you. Maybe Wes could explain.”
His dad grinned. “Somehow that doesn’t have the same appeal.”
Xander chuckled. “I bet.” He heard Angel groan and turned to the vampire. “What’s up Deadboy?”
The vampire looked even more mournful than usual. “In twenty years you’re going to be just like him.”
“Hey!” O’Neill let out a protest.
“So?”
“I had hoped you’d grow up.”
* * *
“Spell starting now.”
O’Neill nodded as he heard Sam’s hushed voice come through his mike. “Copy.” As he sighted his rifle and waited for the Bringers to exit the target he thought about how much his life had changed recently. Just over two years ago he’d been a childless Air Force Colonel travelling the universe, but now, a slight smile tugged at his lips. Now he had a previously unknown son who was a legendary demon hunter who somehow had the ear of the Pentagon, CIA, NSA, FBI, MI6, the Vatican, and assorted police departments. And now he was a demon hunter. He only wished Charlie had lived to meet his half-brother.
Forcing away the pain he turned his attention back to the church just as its double-doors swung open. O’Neill squinted down his night-scope. At this distance, just under 300 yards away, and with this many targets he scarcely had to aim. Biting back his distaste and reminding himself that the figures beneath him weren’t human he began to fire, his trigger finger a blur. Soon his ears were ringing and his nose and lungs filled with cordite.
* * *
Jack Cow tensed as he heard the gunfire begin. “Here it comes,” he looked at his companions and snorted. Some back up; the Gunn guy looked like he could handle himself but the others...
The door to the rear of the church flew open and approximately two dozen Bringers spilled out towards where they were hidden. Crow lifted his MP5. “On my mark,” he growled. Once the Bringers were within seventy yards the vampire hunter let out a yell. “Now!” Surging to his feet, he started to fire, his companions following suit a split-second later. The gunfire lit up the night sky before tearing into the Bringers and soon the clearing was littered with their bodies.
Crow cursed as his sub-machine gun spluttered to a halt, he was getting into it. Just as he reached for a new magazine a Bringer leapt at him, his dagger arcing downwards. The vampire swung his gun up to parry the attack only for a shot to ring out and the Bringer’s head explode in a red mist.
Crow glanced in the direction and nodded. “Thanks.” The Englishman casually blew the smoke away from the end of his Walther PPK before nodding. Crow smirked; maybe not all Englishmen were pansies after all.
* * *
“I swear if that boy calls me Mandy again.”
“You didn’t have to come,” Connor commented.
Amanda glanced at him. “And let you two boy scouts have all the fun? I don’t think so. But that brat!”
Connor bit back a chuckle at the irritated look on Amanda’s beautiful face. Normally she was the one doing the annoying but it appeared Xander had got under the immortal’s skin. The elder McLeod’s smile died when he considered a disturbing possibility. What if Amanda was falling for his friend? Relationships between immortals and mortals had considerable pitfalls; he’d have to warn Xander. Connor grimaced, relying on Xander to be the responsible one? “Oh god it’s Armageddon,” he muttered dryly.
His attention was diverted by the side door to the church flying open. Twenty to three, not good odds. He was surprised by a chuckle from Amanda. “What sort of idiots bring knives to a sword fight?” Connor smiled thinly, oh yes, they did have that advantage.
* * *
Xander drew his sword and Desert Eagle before sliding into the street’s shadows. The gunfire from his dad’s sniper team had ended. It wouldn’t be long now.
Less than thirty seconds later Xander heard the patter of footfalls and saw some figures moving obliviously towards his position. He quickly did a head-count, seven maybe eight, tough but with the advantage of surprise, he could handle them.
He waited until the lead Bringer was level with his hiding place before striking. Surging upright, he launched himself out of the shadows, leading with the point of his blade. His sword tore through the Bringer’s neck, sending blood gushing out and the demon-worshipper’s head tumbling to the ground. Spinning round to face the rest, he emptied his automatic into his other enemies, dropping four of them to the ground before running out of ammo.
Realising he didn’t have the time to re-load or even holster his gun before the other Bringers were upon him he dropped it clattering to the ground before wading into the attack. Sidestepping a knife slash he swept the legs from his nearest attacker before leaping over his falling adversary, his feet snapping out into a side kick to the right hitting a Bringer who’d been advancing on him from that direction in the chest and knocking him into the far wall. Landing with knees bent, he thrust his blade upwards into the belly of an advancing minion. Withdrawing his blood-streaked blade he parried a slash at his head from the Bringer he’d sent into the wall before driving the pommel of his sword into his assailant’s face, staggering him. Before his dazed adversary had chance to recover, Xander’s sword flicked up decapitating him. Spinning round he thrust his sword through the heart of the still rising last Bringer. The adrenalin from his brief but furious battle running out Xander slumped against the wall and took a breath. “Wonder how the others are doing?”
* * *
“Well that was a success, one hundred and thirty Bringers dead, nearly ¾ of their number in Sunnydale. It was a good plan.” Xander nodded, Angel looked at his friend’s grim face with concern before continuing. “What’s up?”
Xander shrugged before glancing behind to ensure the others were too far behind to overhear. “We’ve given the First a bloody nose, great. But we’re no closer to actually defeating it.”
Angel opened his mouth to reply only to clamp it shut when Xander’s mike crackled into life; it was Major Carter. “Xander, we’ve got four intruders.”
“We’ll be there in five minutes,” his friend turned to him, his face grim. “Trouble.”
The Paladin Project 4. – The Gathering
“B, me and Woodie are going out on patrol, five by five?” when she didn’t receive a reply from the busily tonguing blonde Faith shook her head in disgust. She liked Angel and all, but banging a dead body? And people called her a slut. “You good to go Woodie?” the Principal nodded. “Let’s hit the road.”
As they reached the edge of Sunnyview Cemetery, Giles’ Citroen CV pulled up beside them. “Any problems getting away from the house?”
Faith snorted. “Fuck G, you know what blondie’s like, she was too busy inspecting bleach job’s fangs to notice us leaving. Besides we said we were patrolling. Somebody needs to, it’s not like she does anything other than bark orders or suck face.”
“What’s happening?” Dawn looked confused. “I thought we were going the grocery shopping?”
Faith’s usually hardened heart went out to the bewildered teen. First her dad runs out on her, then she finds out she wasn’t a real human but some mystical key, then her mom dies, and then to top it all her sister practically deserts her in favour of a homicidal, former would-be rapist, vampire. Talk about the bum’s rush. “Pip-, Dawn we’re splitting. We’re sick of taking orders from your sister and watching her moon over that piece of crap. Only question is do you want to come with us? If not we’ll drop you home and leave. But once you’re in, there’s no turning back.”
“Does Xander know we’re coming?”
“G’s spoken to him,” Faith evaded. Xman would probably shit when he saw her and Dawn.
The teen wiped at her eyes. “I’ll come with you. There’s nothing left for me here anymore.”
Faith winked at the younger girl and gently squeezed her arm. “It’ll be five by five you’ll see.”
* * *
“I understand the command staff of the Paladin Project are stationed at their operational base?”
Darwin Chance nodded at the impenetrable darkness that surrounded the demon sat at the end of the board room. When the ensoulled vampire Angel had been influenced by Demonsbane into rejecting their offer, he, as their top trouble-shooter, had been brought in to get the office back on track. And now only weeks into his new post he was being visited by one of the senior partners, Azarel. The archdemon’s very form would, without his shadowy cloak, leave him a gibbering wreck. Even at this distance, the power of the arch-demon’s presence tugged at his soul, threatening to tear it away from his being. “That’s correct sir.”
“Um,” Azarel’s rasping voice sent shivers of terror up his spine and caused his stomach to clench painfully making him very glad he hadn’t had time for breakfast this morning. “Angel has also temporarily transferred his office there hasn’t he?”
“Demonsbane, Angel, and the Paladin Project all together under one roof. I sense an opportunity.” Azarel mused. “So I’ve arranged for some contractors to take care of this situation.”
Chance’s breath caught when a hazy, greyish portal appeared by the side of the archdemon and six velvet-cloaked figures strode gracefully out. The Lawyer swallowed nervously.
All of the figures were covered from head to foot by their black robes, stood about six feet tall, and were lithely built with physiques akin to middle distance runners. The litigator could only see the newcomer’s eyes under their shrouded cowls but that was enough – their purple slanted eyes confirmed Chance’s suspicion, they were Drow.
Drow. The dark elves lived under the surface of their world in a lightless kingdom where they fought continually against not only the other houses, but also the other races that shared their subterranean home, and the surface dwellers too. The Drow were feared throughout the dimensions both for their merciless battle skills and their dark arts mastery.
Chance looked warily at the pairs of gleaming scimitars strapped to the waist of each Drow. “What do you need from this office?” he managed to gasp.
“From this office? Why nothing at all,” Chance still couldn’t see the demon but he could hear the smile in his voice. “They’re simply here to make a point.”
“A point?” Chance was unable to control his trembling voice.
“Yes,” suddenly all pretence at humour left the demon’s voice leaving only a chilling coldness. “The Senior Partners have been most displeased with your lack of progress. These Drow could very easily be hunting down, torturing, and killing every one of your friends and family as a prelude to your own demise. I would strongly encourage you to increase your efforts.”
* * *
“Lord Lucis we have disturbing news from the U.S.”
The well-groomed man sat beside the desk didn’t look a day over a healthy forty but in fact he was close to seventeen hundred years old, the oldest and most powerful vampire in the world. He was the head of The Clans, the highly secret vampire organisation unknown to all but the most senior in the Vatican and what had been the Council. Not even most vampires knew of their organisation – showy vampires like Angelus, Dracula, The Master, and Kaktosis were never invited to join, they were considered too indiscreet. Lucis had run the clans for almost a thousand years, his predecessor having been overthrown and then tortured to death over a decade, ensuring that no vampire within the Clans ever dared to disobey his edicts making his nation ever more powerful and influential. “What seems to be the problem Morte?”
Morte, a hulking seven foot Frenchman he himself had turned during the Hundred Years’ War, nodded. “Sir, reports from America indicate that the Paladin Project have congregated in Sunnydale.”
“Um,” Lucis drummed his fingers on the desk before him. This was a most disturbing development. Ever since its inception The Paladin Project had been an unknowing thorn in his organisation’s side, several of their fund-raising operations and a number of his senior lieutenants had fallen to its members, most noticeably to the traitor Angel, Blade, and Demonsbane. “Is there any indication why such a formidable foe has congregated at the Hellmouth?”
“There’s been rumblings, rumours, in the underworld about the possible rising of an ancient at the Hellmouth.”
Lucis raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps it’s time to unleash the Hunt?”
Morte smiled. “It’s been a while sir.
Should I take personal charge?”
Lucis nodded. “You are their commander after all.” He smiled as the giant vampire hurried out of his personal quarters. The Hunt had been one of his first innovations to The Clans when he’d taken over. Deciding that The Clans needed a more efficient enforcement unit to deal with rogue vampires, retrieve occult artefacts, and eliminate any other threats to The Clans’ well-being he’d created The Hunt. He’d kept The Hunt compact, consisting only of vampires who’d reached Master status and who’d been some sort of fighter in their human lives. And in eight hundred years they’d lost members but had never failed to complete their mission.”
“Do you require my services Master?”
Lucis turned to the entrance of his private quarters and smiled proudly at the silver-haired woman stood there. The woman was beautiful beyond measure with waist-length hair, piercing green eyes, angular features, and a curvy figure clothed in a black cat-suit. But it wasn’t the looks of his finest creation that made the 17 century old vampire beam, it was the fact that 400 year old vampire before him was completely and utterly unique. She was Sophia Estara, a nineteen year old Portuguese serving girl who’d been the Slayer of her time, and the only one ever turned. As well as serving as his favourite mate she was also his personal assassin. “Oh yes, I think this situation requires your very personal attention. I want you in Sunnydale but be discreet unless The Hunt fails.”
Estara bowed her head in supplication. “Which targets should take priority?”
The head of The Clans paused in thought. “The traitor Angel, Demonsbane, and either of the Slayers.”
His childe beamed. “Slayers, their blood is so delicious. And the looks on their faces when I tell them that I once was like them. If I get them both that will make it seven.”
Lucis beamed proudly. Ah yes, his favoured childe - it was just a shame she was quite mad.
* * *
“Mr Chairman, we’ve received some troubling news,” the cultured man sat in the eighth floor office raised an eyebrow encouraging the messenger to continue. “It appears that most of the major players in The Paladin Project have met in Sunnydale.”
“That is bad news.” The Chairman’s fleshy lips pursed in concentration. As the leader of the Illuminati, the shadowy group that manipulated events throughout the world, he was sick of The Project sticking their nose into his organisation’s activities. “Send for Hans Axel.” The messenger bowed his head, turned, and left.
As he waited for his summonsed agent to arrive he mentally reviewed Axel’s record. Born in 1920’s Bonn, Axel had been a highly-decorated S.S. paratrooper during World War II conscripted into the ‘Supreme Soldier Scheme’, Germany’s answer to Captain America. The experiment had been a complete success turning its subject into a superb athlete capable of winning medals of any of at least twenty different Olympic events and the master of a dozen martial arts. The treatment had even changed the man at a psychological level, making him more ruthless, sadistic, assertive, and aggressive. However the most amazing side-effect was the retardation of the aging process to the extent that the eighty-three year old Axel had the looks and physical capabilities of a man half his age.
Unfortunately for the Axis power, Nick Fury’s Howling Commandos had destroyed the camp holding the scheme before it could go into mass production. After Germany’s fall and subsequent splitting, Axel worked for East Germany’s STASI as their premier assassin during the fifties, sixties, and seventies earning the name ‘Silent Death’. In 1978, owing to a scandal around his rape, torture, and murder of the Bulgarian Foreign Minister’s youngest daughter, Axel had fled to the U.S.
Once there he’d flourished under the protection of the Mafia. His depravities were ignored as long as he took care of any insubordinate member the ruling council deemed expendable. In 1990 the assassin had once again switched employers. It had been quite a bidding war; Wolfram & Hart, the Yakuza, the Colombian Cartels, and the Russian Mob had all been interested in securing Axel’s services but they’d won the battle.
“Chairman.” The Illuminati’s leader glanced up. He was unable to resist the urge to shudder slightly. With all his immense power few men scared him but Axel managed it. Unusual for people in his profession the contractor was striking in appearance, standing well over six feet tall with a lithe yet muscular physique. Axel’s tanned and craggy face was dominated by his beaked nose and piercing blue eyes while his head was shaved completely. The way the man stood, moved, spoke – everything about him snarled danger.
“Hello Mr. Axel. I assume you’ve heard what’s occurred in Sunnydale?”
“The gathering of the Paladin Project, I assume you want me to dismantle it?” He nodded. The assassin paused, his expression calculating. “My fee will be fifty million pounds sterling.”
The chairman’s eyes bulged and he felt his breath grow short. The most Axel had ever received for a contract was ten million. The money requested was a drop in the ocean for his organisation but still. Finally he spoke, his voice calm. “That seems excessive.”
“Does it?” the craggy-faced killer shrugged his powerful shoulders. “I’ll need to hire help, more talented than I usually use. The Paladin Project is staffed by exceptionally competent operatives. Also, Sunnydale is demon central that makes things more complicated. You could go elsewhere but when your assassin fails and you return to me my fee will be doubled.
After a second the Chairman nodded. It would be worth the price to get rid of the Project. “Very well.”
* * *
Caleb stared up fearfully at his master. Seeing the look of fury on the apparition’s face he bowed his head. “Master, the Bringers were only -.”
“Silence!” his master’s voice exploded, its force sending him stumbling backwards. “Nobody challenges my will! The Slayer is gullible, unfocused, and disorganised but this new threat is worrying. I’ve decided to send for The Fallen.”
Although shaking with fear from the fury in the First’s voice Caleb tried again. “Master, I have things under control, that’s hardly nec-.”
Caleb began to choke as an unseen hand gripped his throat and began squeezing, cutting off his air supply in a split-second. “Understand this servant,” the First’s voice was deathly cold. “Although my enemies can escape my touch, you servant cannot. Do not question my will again unless you wish to have your bones pulled from your living body!”
* * *
“Excuse me, do you have any rooms available?”
Jed Andrews looked up in interest. Although he currently served as the shift manager for one of Sunnydale’s two motels he’d spent much of the last two decades as a merchant seaman and thought he’d recognised the man’s accent as French. “Yeah,” he drawled, despite all the years away from his home state his voice still carried traces of his Texas twang. “People don’t stand to stay round here for long.”
As he spoke he quickly inspected the newcomer. The man was close to six feet tall in height with the thickly muscled body of a lumberjack or construction worker. The man’s wavy sandy-brown hair hung down to his shoulders and parted down the middle, while his friendly grey eyes were set in a square, tanned face. The man nodded and smiled. “And yet it seems like such a friendly town.”
Jed bit back a laugh. “Room’s fifty bucks a night, $300 for a week.”
“How about $ 550 for a fortnight?”
“Deal,” Jed passed the register over the counter as he took the offered notes. “Room 10,” he passed the man the key. The man smiled his thanks, effortlessly hefted his surplus bag, and walked off. Jed smiled as he glanced down at the register, Lance Amore, he was right – the man was French.
The Paladin Project 5 – Confrontations
“No,” Faith shook her head, her face resolute. “I won’t do it.”
“In that case get out,” Xander’s cool tone betrayed none of his inner turmoil.
“B..but,” the brunette looked devastated. “I chose your fucking team! B will know by now we’ve come here. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
“Not my problem,” Xander replied flatly, it was an effort to keep his face stony at the woman’s obvious hurt. “You sing and Lorne reads you or you leave.”
“Xander,” he turned to see an anxious looking Angel stood behind him. “Can I speak to you in private?”
For a second he hesitated before
nodding. “Let’s go up to my room.” He glanced to the others in the hallway.
“Keep an eye on them.”
Once they’d entered his room Angel launched into him. “For god’s sake Xander!” the vampire’s eyes glittered golden. “You know how much it would have cost Faith to come here, to try and build bridges with you! Can’t you give her a chance! You know how hard it is for her to trust people. Faith won’t want to sing for Lorne in case of what he reads.”
Xander paused in thought. When Faith and the others had arrived he’d been relieved that it wasn’t some agent of the First or Buffy. But Faith, well as always with Faith there were complications. “She sings,” he forestalled any comment from Angel by hurrying on. “In private with only you and Lorne present. Angel, I’ve not got only my own life to think of.”
“What if I vouch for her?”
“If I didn’t think you would she wouldn’t have got through the front gate,” Xander reached onto one of the shelves and passed the vampire two A4 sized manila envelopes. “Give Faith those when she passes.”
“When not if?” Angel smiled wryly before turning curious. “What’s in here?” The vampire’s eyes widened as he told him. “How did you manage this?”
Xander winked. “With my friends you can do just about anything.”
Angel nodded triumphantly at him as the
vampire exited the room he’d sent them into. The vampire’s arm hung
protectively around Faith’s shoulders as the brunette clung onto the envelopes
he’d given Angel to give to her, a look of disbelief on her face. Xander smiled
back at his friend, he hadn’t expected the brunette to fail, if he’d been
placing just his own life in Faith’s hands he’d have trusted Angel’s judgement
but he had his other friends to consider. “Never had any doubt,” he winked at
the brunette Slayer before turning to Sydney. “Syd, could you take Faith and
Dawn up to the female wing, give them the tour, show them the security
protocols. Wes, will you do the same for -.”
Suddenly Fred’s anxious voice came over the house intercom. “Xander, we’ve got trouble at the front gate.”
Xander’s slight smile disappeared. “Control room now.”
* * *
Xander stared silently at the security monitor screen. Buffy and Willow were stood outside the mansion’s gates together with Spike, a kid he guessed from his intel reports must be Andrew, and a bunch of teenage girls carrying weapons that could only be the potentials. Buffy’s army would have been funny if it wasn’t so pathetic; this was meant to save the world? “It’s good to see those protection spells you did worked girls,” he praised the Charmed Ones.
“Anything for you Xand. Anything at all,” Paige winked flirtatiously at him. Xander shook his head, now was most certainly not the time.
“What’s the gig Xman?”
Xander turned to Faith, surprised that she just accepted his leadership so willingly. After a second he’d organised his thoughts. “Paige, Pheebs, and Piper I want you on Rosenberg, with her current state of mind she shouldn’t be a threat but watch her she’s powerful. Blade, you, Eric and Teal’c keep Spike out of things, no fatalities unless you have to. Faith, you look after Dawn,” seeing the younger Summers’ mouth begin to open he shook his head. “No Dawn, you will follow my lead. The rest of you watch the others. Oh Leo, I want you ready to heal.”
“Xander,” this came from Angel. “What are you planning?”
“It’s called retribution. Fred, activate the gates and front door. Let’s go team.”
Xander’s heart thundered as he waited
for Summers and her gang. Four years after she’d nearly beaten him to death and
Willow had stood idly by, he was going to confront them again. “Thanks again
Whistler,” he muttered sarcastically at the balance demon who’d sent him back to
Sunnydale, “I really appreciate being sent back here. No really.”
“Faith you bitch!” Suddenly the Slayer strode into the hallway, flanked by her team. Immediately his own team moved into their assigned positions. “How dare you kidnap my sister!”
All his nervousness disappeared as soon as he heard Buffy’s voice, reminding him of her ever-present arrogance and self-righteousness. “First off, Dawn is here of her own free will and quite frankly I’m surprised you noticed she’d gone with you being so busy sucking face with Billy Idol.” A snarling Spike started forward only to be stopped by Blade and the others. Xander’s voice hardened, taking on a chilly note, “and second, you don’t speak to my friends like that, not in my house.”
Buffy snorted. “Friend? What’s up Xander, she spreading them for you to make you forget what she did to you?”
It was Xander’s turn to snort. “What be scared of what she’d done and lash out at a male because she’s never been able to trust them? Somehow I think that’s more forgivable than luring an oblivious friend who’d fought by your side for three years and beating him half to death.” Even as he spoke the images of that day assaulted him, turning his stomach, today was going to be different.
“You sent Angel to hell because you were jealous of us!”
Xander’s eyes rolled back. “Dear god Buffy get over yourself. I got over you the moment you lap-danced me to make Angel jealous. By the time Angelus rose I’d moved onto a real woman, Cordy. Just like Angel in fact,” he smiled inwardly as Buffy’s eyes widened. “No, you want to know why I did what I did? I did it because you constantly showed you weren’t up to the job,” he sent a silent apology to Angel for what he was about to say. “Angelus killed dozens of people, included our friend Teri, Jenny, and even tortured Giles. You consistently refused to kill -.”
“He was Angel!”
“Oh for the love of god!” Xander’s temper snapped. “Listen you stupid little bitch. Faith, with a drop-out’s education, Giles, with his own issues, and me with my previous hatred of Angel could all tell the difference. Why the hell can’t you!” With an effort he forced his temper under control. “Angel – good-, honourable man. Angelus – homicidal, sadistic vampire. When would you have stopped Angelus, when I died? No, you didn’t care enough about me. Giles? God no, get rid of the Watcher and you don’t have to be a Slayer? Ah Willow, now that’s different – without her to blindly bolster your ego -.”
“Hey!”
Willow started forward only to stop at Piper’s cold voice. “Back off sweetie or we’ll bind your powers.”
Once the suddenly pale Willow had stepped back Xander continued. “You’d consistently proved yourself incapable of making a rational decision regarding Angelus, a decision that Angel himself agreed with.”
“I’m the Slayer! It’s my decision to make!”
“And you’re such a great Slayer aren’t you? Let’s just review your record before I left Sunnydale. You twice ran away from your sacred duty, how many people died because of that? More than Faith ever killed I bet – and at least she regrets her mistakes. How many people died when you stood idly by and allowed Angelus to run riot? And when Angel came back from the dead, or was it Angelus? You didn’t know but you took a chance on each of our lives! Why, because you’re just a selfish child!”
“And you’re so perfect!”
“God no,” Xander chuckled. “I had the bad taste to fall for you and then compound that mistake with messing up my relationship with Cordy for a drone like Willow. And let’s not forget the love spell. Difference is I’m enough of a grown-up to admit and learn from my mistakes. And let’s go over your record over the past four years.”
“What do you know?”
Xander grinned coldly. “Oh I’ve developed sources. First, you and Willow push aside a man who’s not only saved your life but acted as your father for three years in favour of a power-hungry bitch, mind you I suppose you both felt a kinship with Walsh – birds of a feather? Then you force the same man to take in a soulless vampire that might or might not have a chip that stops him from eating humans. And then there was ADAM -.”
“He’s just lucky he ran!”
Xander laughed. “Is that what happened? And I thought me and Blade dealt with him when I lured him into a cave and collapsed it on him, my mistake. Oh and Willow, you don’t know how lucky you got last year.”
“What do you mean?”
“Who do you think put a sniper’s bullet through Rack and Amy’s heads? Oh,” Xander turned to an open-mouthed Buffy, “close that fly-trap Summers and don’t give me that crap about not killing humans, you were eager enough to try and kill your sister Slayer for a vampire, adjustable moral code much?” He turned to Willow, his eyes cold. “You got real lucky Rosenberg, if Dawn hadn’t managed to talk you down, or if you’d laid one damn finger on her, I’d have splattered your brains all over the ground. And then,” Xander turned a disgusted glare on Buffy, “we get to this year and you break all previous records for stupidity. First you allow a would-be rapist vampire to stay in your home-.”
“I could stop him!” Blade’s face was flaming.
“Could Dawn or any of these young girls – supposedly under your protection?” Xander took Buffy’s glaring silence as his answer. “Thought not. Then, you know Spike’s murdered nearly ten people with his new gleaming soul intact and do you stake him? No, you keep him around like a muzzled dog! And then,” Xander shook his head in disbelief, he couldn’t believe what Giles had told him, “you chose a vampire over a human who’s mother was killed by the same vampire.”
“He has a soul now!”
“So?” Xander shrugged. “Having a soul doesn’t preclude evil. Serial killers like Ted Bundy have souls. Tyrants like Hitler have souls. You really are the stereotype of a blond bimbo.”
“Hey Xand, that’s so unfair. I can see her roots!”
Xander chuckled briefly both at Faith’s shouted comment and Buffy’s red face before sobering. “You are an irrelevance. You’ve repeatedly shown yourself incapable of showing good judgement and acting responsibly. Take Willow and get out, you’ve never wanted to be a Slayer so now you’re retired. The professionals are here now, go, and stay out of our way. And Spike,” he turned with a sneer to the restrained vampire, “understand this, I don’t care if you might have got a soul, there’s only one vampire I trust. Blade?”
Instantly the vampire hunter’s sword flashed upwards taking the vampire’s head from his shoulders. Xander turned to a paling Buffy and raised an eyebrow. “Well that’ll make Woodie’s year, I always wanted to be teacher’s pet.”
“You bastard!” Buffy came at him fast but Xander kept his cool, ducking most of her blows and blocking the rest on his arms. Even so his forearms were soon aching from wrist to elbow.
Finally he saw an opening, grabbing the blonde’s out-stretched arm at the wrist, he yanked her towards him, sweeping her feet from beneath her. The Slayer fell face first but came up instantly, a shocked expression on her face. “What’s up wannabe?” he taunted with a grin, ignoring the pain in his arms. “Surprised I’m not just a punch bag anymore?”
The snarling blonde leapt into a spin kick. Xander moved smoothly beneath the attack before grabbing the Slayer out of the air and throwing her to the floor. The Slayer sprang back upright, her eyes glittering dangerously.
Instantly the Slayer attacked again. He ducked the first two quicksilver blows before Buffy caught him with an uppercut under his jaw lifting him off his feet and sending him crashing to the floor. Groaning slightly he rolled to his feet. Seeing the Slayer coming in fast he spat a mouthful of blood into her face and taking advantage of the blonde’s momentary blindness, he drove a right into the bridge of her nose breaking it.
The Slayer replied by snapping out a roundhouse kick that he slid under before kicking the Slayer’s grounded leg at the knee, sending his adversary crashing to the floor. He attempted to follow up with a chest stomp only for Buffy to grab his foot and fling him to the mat.
They both got to their feet at roughly the same time. Buffy charged him, her feet and hands moving like a tornado as she pummelled him mercilessly, every blow he couldn’t evade landing like an exploding grenade. Finally he saw another opening, after slamming an elbow into the Slayer’s armpit he followed it up with a backfist to the side of his rival’s head. Grabbing the momentarily stunned blonde by her ponytail he pulled the Slayer into a headbutt, breaking her nose for a second time. Not releasing his hold on the blonde’s pony-tail, he jerked her head back and chopped down with a knifehand on her exposed throat. A half-second later he swept the woman’s legs from underneath her and drove his knee upwards into the small of her descending back. Hearing the resulting expected crack of the woman spine, he released his grip, allowing her to fall to the ground. Xander crouched down over the crumpled body, looked into the blonde’s scared eyes, and began speaking, his words clearly audible to everyone in the hushed hall. “Looks like payback’s a bitch, just like you. You feel scared now Buffy? Helpless, like Angelus’ victims, the people you were supposed to protect. How about Spike’s victims this year? Do you think you’re a tenth as scared as they were? Or how about me four years ago?” Suddenly sickened by what he’d done, Xander forced himself back to his feet. “Leo, heal her.” He turned to Buffy’s followers. “Any of you potentials who want to stay are welcome, you too Andrew. You two,” he turned back to Buffy and Willow, stay out of our way or we’ll crush you like the insects you really are.”