"Let's go," Buffy snapped at the others, and they all ran back to the truck.
"It did look like Parker had the drop on you," Willow whispered beside her.
"Not for a second," Buffy replied, though in truth she was not as certain as her tone implied.
She had not realized Xander was behind her, but now he jogged up next to her. "This isn't like it used to be, Buffy. Nobody wants anyone to get killed, but they've thrown in with the Big Evil; they know that's a risk. Maybe it's been conducted in secret until now, but this is a war. There have already been plenty of human casualties. The faster we end it, the fewer there will be in the future. Keep your head on straight, keep your eyes on the goal."
Difficult as it was for her, Buffy realized that Xander was right. Harsh, even callous perhaps, but right.
As they climbed into the back of the truck, Lonergan leaned around from the driver's seat and waited for instructions.
"You're supposed to be able to sense vampires, Christopher," Buffy said. "Try not to run us into any more. You see another roadblock, drive right through it. Just get us to City Hall."
As the truck rumbled on toward City Hall, Xander sat on the bench and glared at Tim Devine even as Hotchkiss cleaned and dressed the other man's bullet wound.
"You will stay with the vehicle, Devine. I'm not taking a liability into that building, and with that hole in you, that's exactly what you are," Xander told him, clipping off every word with his teeth.
He could feel the tension in the back of the truck and it pissed him off. Wasn't it bad enough, the pressure of what they were about to do? First Yancy squares off against the Slayer, and now Devine had to give him this crap. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Buffy and Willow, side by side. Both of them seemed poised to speak up, take some action, and he shot them a quick, sidelong glance to let them know he would handle it. Buffy might be field commander, with Willow running a close second, but Xander and Lonergan were the ones who were really responsible for these grunts. Xander was not about to let the operatives in his unit forget that.
Devine grimaced as Hotchkiss wrapped the bandages tighter across his shoulder. Then he narrowed his gaze and stared at Xander. "Don't get up in my face, Harris," Devine said. "The coagulant stopped me from bleeding too much. I'm right-handed, which means I can still fire my weapon. And you are not running this mission."
With a soft chuckle, Xander shook his head. The Council had worked with the U.S. government to develop a chemical treatment that acted as a coagulant upon their blood when it was exposed to air. The army had recently begun to use the same treatment. If they were wounded, it caused the bleeding to stop quickly. It also made it decidedly unpleasant for a vampire to drink from them. Devine was right about that, but it didn't change his mind.
"First of all, it's Mister Harris to you, Devine. I may not be your direct commander, but I am your superior on this mission. Do you hear anyone in this truck contradicting me? What it comes down to is this: you are wounded, and therefore at least partially impaired. You are not one hundred percent. Could cost your life, but that's your risk. The thing is, you're in there covering somebody's flank, they are trained to be able to rely on you. If they can't, you're a liability.
"You stay in the truck."
Devine practically snarled in response, but Xander held firm. A second later the truck's brakes squeaked and it rattled to a stop.
"We're here," Lonergan said from the front. He touched the headset he wore and listened for a moment. "From the sound of things, all the other units have reached their initial targets and have started to exterminate the nests. At this point, even best case scenario, Giles either knows we're coming or knows we're here."
Xander glanced over at Buffy and Willow. "Drive by?" he asked.
The two women looked at each other, and in that moment, memories flooded through him of his childhood with Willow, and of the way things had changed after Buffy had come into their lives. Things had been so simple once upon a time, even after they had discovered what really lurked in the shadows of the world. They had been teenagers, then, tangled in emotions and hormones and a belief that they could keep the monsters at bay.
They had failed.
But now, looking at the women his friends had become, at cool, confident Willow with her red hair tied back in an oh-so-serious ponytail, and at edgy, wiry Buffy, her features somehow more beautiful despite the ghosts that seemed to haunt her eyes... now Xander believed that it was possible for them to win.
And he was not going to compromise that hope for anyone.
Willow nodded to Buffy.
"We're doing the drive-by, Christopher," Buffy told Lonergan.
"Done," the man replied.
Lonergan put the truck in gear again and floored it. Xander turned to Alex Hotchkiss, an operative he'd trained with when the Council had first set up shop for real in California, and held out his hand.
"Let's knock," he said.
Hotchkiss grinned, then reached under the bench and produced a long plastic cylinder. He uncapped one end and slid out a 66mm M72-A7 disposable antitank weapon. What always amazed Xander about these things was that they looked harmless enough, more like a fat telescope than anything else. Hotchkiss handed it to him and Xander slipped the strap over his shoulder. He sat on the floor of the truck with his back braced against one bench and his feet steady on the floor.
"Five seconds," Lonergan warned. He spoke quickly into the headset to the drivers of the other trucks that were rolling in even now to back them up.
"Gimme a window," Xander snapped.
Yancy and another operative, Darren Abel, scrambled to unhook a set of latches on the wall of the truck. They bracketed—and held in place—a four foot square section of the sidewall. Behind Xander, Buffy and Willow undid a matching set on the other wall. When the latches were open, Hotchkiss shot Xander a look.
"Ready!" Xander shouted.
"Go," Lonergan replied, barely a second later.
The two operatives shoved the unlatched section of wall and it swung out and down, even as Buffy and Willow did the same on the other side. They leaped out of the way. Xander saw guards running toward their transport and the two other trucks that were rolling in. A pair of Draxhall demons lumbered menacingly in front of the doors to City Hall. Xander peered through the M72's sight, saw the elegant granite steps in front of the building, aimed at the Draxhall demons and the huge double doors right in the center of the building's face, and fired.
The four-pound missile roared out of the M72's fat barrel with a hiss like God opening a God-size can of soda after the Devil shook it up. The backfire roared flames out the rear of the barrel through the opening behind him. Xander slammed against the bench and he knew his back would be badly bruised from the force of it.
The front doors of City Hall exploded, shattering the stone frame around them and ripping the Draxhall demons to shreds.
Lonergan kept driving, but he cut the wheel, turning the truck in a hard circle to bring it back around toward the front. Operatives fired their weapons through the now open ports in the truck's walls, and out the back. Several human sentries went down, but the others turned to run.
Xander glanced at Buffy. "Couldn't be helped," he told her. "But at least the others are running."
She nodded grimly.
Then the truck slammed to a stop again.
"Go! Go!" Willow shouted. "Stay together."
They leaped out through the openings in the wall, and through the back, hustling as fast as they could. The other vehicles were also disgorging their troops. At the rear of the truck, Xander turned and shot a last look at Tim Devine.
"Get behind the wheel. Don't let them take the truck. If any of us lives through this, we'll need a ride home."
Devine, resigned to being left behind, nodded grimly.
The sword banged against Buffy's back as she ran up the granite steps. It had worked so well that she was tempted to use it now, but in close quarters with the rest
of her team, she did not want to risk it, so instead she clutched a stake in her hand as they ran through the debris of the ruined doors. Then they were inside, leaping over large chunks of stone and shattered wood.
Buffy blinked, her eyes adjusting, and then she saw them. At least twenty vampires were gathered in the huge foyer, and more were scrambling down the stairs and running along distant corridors to join them, to save their master, their king.
Around her, she glimpsed Xander, Willow and Oz, Christopher Lonergan, Yancy and Abel, Hotchkiss and the other members of the squad. More were pouring in behind them. There was a sort of pause, just a tiny moment where time seemed to be suspended, where no one moved.
Buffy glanced at Willow.
"Oz," Willow said.
In an instant of howled pain, Oz transformed. Then the moment broke and the vampires rushed forward and the fight began. The operatives were in close quarters battle. No rifles or assault weapons here. There were crossbows and shotguns and some pistols, and there were stakes.
Oz leaped into the fray first, slashing at two of the vampires before driving one down to the ground and ripping its throat out with a single thrust of his enormous jaws. Buffy cringed when she saw it, for she had a sense that Oz hated what he was. He would use it to help make things right, use it maybe just because Willow asked him and she still had a hold on his heart, but he hated it. Buffy could see why.
Then she was in the thick of things and had no more time for thought. A high side kick drove one of them back, a quick elbow cleared the way, then she staked two in quick succession. Long, filthy claws raked at her back and she dusted a third without even glancing back at it, instinct alone helping her locate its heart.
Around her, the fight raged, dark and savage and throwing dust all about. It clogged Buffy's throat and nostrils and she nearly vomited on the floor as she realized she was breathing vampires.
Yancy died, screaming as a pair of vampires tore into him ... the scream cut off abruptly when one of them broke his neck. Then Xander was there, dusting Yancy's killers, grim and silent. He wore a crossbow slung over his shoulder on a strap, but for the moment he was using a stake. He liked to get close to them, he had said, to make sure the job got done.
But still the vampires came. There were just too many of them, a building filled with them.
Of course, that was exactly what they had expected.
"Now?" Willow asked.
"Do it," Buffy replied.
With a wave of her hands and a shout in some ancient tongue Buffy could not even identify, Willow cast a spell that set half a dozen vampires near her ablaze. The fire roared up from them and reached the ceiling, and then the ceiling itself started to burn. Fire licked across the wood, raced as if alive to the edges of the ceiling and began to incinerate the walls as well. It was unnaturally fast, a ravenous flame. It was exactly what they wanted.
The vampires continued to fight, but tried to shy away from the fire. They began to cluster near the middle of the room.
As if on cue, the emergency sprinkler system in City Hall turned on, spraying hundreds of jets of water down upon them, just in the massive foyer alone.
Some of the vampires had begun to look frightened of the flames, but now those same leeches laughed and smiled, and the menace came back into their faces. Orange electric fire burned in their eyes, like distant stars in the black abyss of the tattoos they all had across their faces. Once it had been the symbol of Camazotz, but no one knew what had become of the god of bats. Now, though, that symbol was the brand of Giles.
Bloodlust filled the vampires. Power crackled all through them as the water doused the flames. They knew their numbers were greater, knew that they would triumph eventually.
Which was when Christopher Lonergan stepped forward, a crucifix raised in his hand, and began to recite a prayer in Latin. He blessed the water that fell from the sprinklers above.
Blessed it, and made it holy.
Christopher Lonergan was a priest.
The holy water burned the vampires, their skin steaming. They started to scream. All the bravado and power that had been in them a moment ago evaporated and they looked almost foolish with the tattoos across their faces, like children at Halloween.
Some of them tried to run, but the operatives moved in. The vampires shrieked with agony from the water that fell even as Buffy and the rest of the team began to eliminate them, to scythe through them like a field of wheat.
It was a massacre after that.
In that moment, the reason for this attack hit Buffy hard. Giles, she thought. In her mind's eye she saw him, a thousand shards of memory, images of him with Jenny Calendar, or in battle, or standing up to the bullying of Quentin Travers. She thought of Giles with his nose stuck in a book, face scrunched up in contemplation, of the glances of half-feigned shock or disapproval he so often shot at Xander or even Buffy herself, and of the way that he had always been able to comfort her, sometimes even without saying a word.
Somewhere in this building, the evil that had usurped her mentor's body lurked, waiting. She had no doubt that the thing that Giles had become would find a way to shield himself from the holy water. But she also knew that it would not run. It wanted her to find it, to find him. It wanted to face her. The very feelings and memories that filled her now, those were the things that Giles relied upon to throw her off-balance.
Buffy spotted Willow and Oz, still a wolf, not far away. She ran to her friend. Oz turned with a snarl, then sniffed at Buffy and was calm.
"Let's go," the Slayer said. "Let's find him now. I want this done with. We'll start in the basement. No windows, so he'd think that was the safest place for him. If I'm wrong, we'll work our way up from there."
Willow nodded, turned to beckon for Xander to come with them.
Then Buffy shouted to Lonergan. "You've got command! Scour the place. Don't leave any of them. We're starting in the basement and we'll catch up when we can."
Lonergan gave her a wave and Buffy nodded in satisfaction as Xander ran over to join them.
"All right. Let's go," she said, then led the way down the corridor toward the stairwell that would take them to the basement.
It was just the four of them—Buffy, Willow, Xander, and Oz—but that was okay. Once upon a time, she could remember having thought that in order for her to be an effective Slayer, she had to learn to operate on her own. But now she realized how foolish that was. This is the way it's supposed to be. This is right. The same way that Xander had insisted Devine stay behind, so that no one had to count on someone who might not live up to expectations, that was how she felt now.
She knew she could count on her friends to back her up, no matter what, and no matter how long it had been since they had been in the midst of such anarchy together.
They passed right by the elevator banks. With the fire alarms blaring and the sprinkler system on, chances were the elevators would have opened on the nearest floor and then frozen in keeping with safety regulations.
A red EXIT sign ahead marked the door that led to the basement. Buffy didn't even bother trying the knob. She popped a side kick at the metal door, right beside the knob. Metal shrieked and tore and it banged open.
Buffy led them onto the landing, out of the shower of water from the sprinklers. The stairs were unattractive, concrete and metal. A three-foot number one was painted on the wall. With a quick glance upward, Buffy started down toward the basement. Oz followed right after her, sniffing the air and the stairs as they went. Willow was behind him, and Xander covered their flank. He had the crossbow dangling from a leather strap around his shoulder like a rock star with his favorite guitar, but he let it hang there as he pulled a nine millimeter Glock from its holster at his side.
Not a word was spoken as they descended.
At the bottom of the stairs was another door. A huge letter B was painted on the wall, but other than that there were no markings. No guards. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. Buffy paused o
n the last step, feeling the damp heat of the werewolf's panting breath on her back. Oz sniffed the air several times in quick succession and began to growl low.
Buffy nodded. "I smell it, too," she said.
"What?" Willow asked.
"Don't even know what to call it," Buffy told her. "Static. Like the bug zapper in Xander's backyard."
"Electricity," Willow said, her voice a sort of hush.
"Exactly."
Willow stepped past Oz. Buffy noticed the sorceress's hand stroking the werewolf's neck gently as she went by him. Willow studied the door for a moment, then glanced over her shoulder at Xander.
"I'm a little tired already," she told him. "Catch me if I fall."
"Always," Xander replied without emotion. It was a simple statement of fact.
"Hey," Buffy said. "I can do it if it's too much—"
"No," Willow said quickly. "We need you in front. Just be ready."
A small smile flickered on Buffy's features. "No such thing. But let's do it anyway."
Willow took a deep breath, sketched in the air with her hands, muttered perhaps four words in what sounded like Greek. Buffy felt a wave of absolute, bone-chilling cold push past her, and she shivered.
The door turned to ice and there was a crackle and pop as the electricity running into and around it shorted out. Willow swayed slightly, but her arm shot out and she leaned against the wall. Buffy grabbed her arm and Xander moved in from behind, but she shook it off after a moment. They were on the landing at the bottom of the stairs now, and Oz moved around them, closer to the door. The werewolf's growling grew louder and more menacing.
"Oz," Buffy said.
The wolf turned, black lips curled back from gleaming teeth. She saw no human intelligence in his eyes, but she knew that he at least partially understood what went on around him.
"Giles is mine," she said.
Then Buffy glanced back at Xander and Willow. Without another word, they both nodded. She took a deep breath, faced the frozen door again, then leaped at it in a high drop kick. The ice shattered into a million tiny shards. The door was gone. They were in.
Buffy The Vampire Slayer - The Lost Slayer - The King Of The Dead Page 10
