"Anthony, call Alex for supper, would you?"
Anthony Harris grunted, crushing the beer can in his hand as he levered himself off the couch. "Sure."
He spiked the can in the garbage in his way by, sparing the can a withering glare as he noted the pile of cans that already filled it. For a moment his face softened into a mask of regret, but then he just shook his head and kept walking. At the bottom of the stairs he stopped, holding onto the banister, "Boy! Supper!"
That done he turned back to the kitchen and went to see if Jessica wanted anything else.
Upstairs, the boy in question winced. "Sorry about that Will."
"It's ok." The redhead smiled softly, "At least they're both here for supper you know."
"I guess." Xander responded. He knew that Willow had her own problems at home, and that she'd often be willing to endure the fights and yelling just for a little contact with her parents. He didn't share that thought though. "I guess we'd better head down."
"Yeah." Willow nodded, glancing around the room that had once been as familiar to her as her own. "You took down the posters."
"Didn't feel like keeping them up anymore." Xander shrugged.
Willow nodded, "Yeah. I guess the movie poster for Bram Stoker's Dracula wasn't quite as cool after..."
"Not nearly." Xander grimaced, thinking back almost three years ago to when it had been him, Jessie, and Willow. Back when the movie monsters stayed in the movies. No Vampires, no werewolves, no mutants. The world was a twisted place, he had decided a long time ago.
Willow paused at his door, smiling. "I see you kept that one, huh?"
"Of course." Xander smiled simply. "Now HE was a hero."
Willow nodded, remembering the stories her grandfather had to say about the man in the old tattered army recruiting poster. "Yeah."
"Come on, Wills. Let's Eat." Xander said with enthusiasm as forced as it was realistic.
"Sure." Willow grinned. "Pot roast?"
"Mom's specialty." Xander grinned.
"Cool." Willow said, as the two of them made their way down the stairs, focusing on just enjoying their last day together before Xander left on his planned road trip and Willow spent her last summer before college.
"We found him." The scarred man said into the cell phone. He waited a moment for the responce before snarling a reply. "Of course I'm fuckin sure. Who do you think I am? One of those amateurs out of New York? I ain't a fuckin freak, Joey. I'm a professional. It's Anthony for sure."
The man nodded into the phone as he watched the house. "Alright. I'll handle it. The Bitch? No problem. Hey, they've got a brat too... Looks to be 18 I guess."
"Alright. You want it, Joey, you got it. Anthony and his family line ends here and now." The man said. "You just be damn sure you have my money ready on this one. Three hits, Joey. Three."
"Don't fuck with me, Joey!" The man snapped a moment later. "THREE. Count em. Anthony, that bitch Jessica, and their son."
"That's right. And I'll be checking the account before I go in there, so don't get any stupid ideas." The man said, sneering. "Fine. I'll talk to ya later. It'll be done when the pay is in place. Not one fuckin second before, Joey."
The man flipped the phone shut and shook his head.
"That went well."
"That son of a bitch is a real piece of work." The scarred man said to the fat man sitting beside him. "Expected us to do the kid as a freebie."
The fat man chuckled, "We were going to anyway."
"Sure we were, but that fuck didn't have to assume it." The scarred man snorted. "No witnesses."
"Right." The fat man nodded, opening a laptop and booting it up as the scarred man broke out a small Ingram machine pistol. "Who's this Anthony guy anyway?"
"What are you? Stupid?" The scarred man shook his head, "You don't know Anthony Agata??"
The fat man blinked, "Agata? You mean *that* Anthony?"
"Fuckin A that Anthony." The scarred man shook his head.
"Shit." The fat man swallowed. "How much we gettin paid for this job?"
"Three times our normal fee." The scarred man replied, "Plus the five mil on Agata's head."
"Shit." The fat man smiled, the folds of his jowels pulling apart to show teeth yellowed by years of smoking. "This one Ida done free."
The scarred man snorted, "You and half the families. That fuckin traitor took out damn near half the east coast families in one shot... And didn't a single one of em ever figure out his was a cop until it was too late."
The Fat Man looked down as his laptop chirped, "The money's there... All of it except the five mil."
"We don't get that until the job is done. That's a bonus." The Scarred Man replied as he pulled a Ruger out of his jacket and checked the clip and action.
"Right." The Fat Man closed the laptop and pulled out his own pistol, a Colt Government Model .45, and checked it while the Scarred Man returned his own pistol to his jacket and opened the car door.
A moment later the Fat Man joined him and they walked around to the trunk of the black sedan and flipped it open.
"We expecting any trouble?"
"Agata took out fifteen guys sent to get him before the courts delivered their verdict..." The Scarred man replied, "So yeah. We're expectin trouble."
The Fat Man nodded, retrieving a Mossberg pump from the trunk and cranking a round into the chamber. "Right."
The Scarred Man had his open weapon of preference, a signature piece one could say. It once belonged to his father, one of the old school 'gangsters' who's actually met Capone once upon a time. It was an old Thompson .45 caliber 'grease gun', complete with a drum clip that the Scarred Man had loving loaded just that morning.
Outdated? Certainly. But one had to go with the things one loved. The Scarred Man always had a soft spot for family.
"Let's go."
"This is really good, Mrs Harris."
Jessica Harris smiled wanly, which was about as much as she ever smiled, at the compliment. "Thank you, Willow."
"So, you still doing that road trip, boy?" Anthony Harris asked abruptly.
Xander nodded, setting his fork down as he expected a long diatribe. "Yes."
Instead of the yelling Xander expected, his father just nodded once and went back to eating. Xander waited a moment, then shrugged and went back to eating himself. Across the table Willow just smiled at him encouragingly, so he smiled back about as enthusiastically as his mother had earlier.
The meal was strained, as it always was in the Harris home, and Xander found himself making stupid jokes and off color comments as he always did, and hated it as he always did. <God. I'm leaving tomorrow for a couple months! Can't they just be civil for one freaking night??>
Apparently his plea went unheard as the tensions continued around the table, and finally even Xander gave up trying to joke it away and focused on eating fast and getting out of there. He knew that the movie he and Willow were going to see later would be a thousand times better then this.
<Sometimes I just wish I'd been born to some other family.> Xander thought just before the world exploded around him.
"Now." The Scarred Man hissed, hefting his Thompson and squeezing the trigger as the Fat Man slammed through the front door of the 'Harris' home.
The .45 caliber slugs erupted into the quiet evening like the angry hammers of some mythical god, chewing through the soft wood and glass of the Harris' kitchen window. The muzzle flash lit up the man's scarred face, his lips pulled back in a satisfied grin as he kept the trigger down through the whole barrel.
Xander reacted first, but his father was just seconds behind. They both tackled the women they sat closest too, Xander hitting his mother and his father tackling Willow to the ground as the roar ripped through the kitchen, showering them with glass, splinters, and pieces of the ceiling and cupboards.
"What is going on!?" Xander yelled over the roar, barely even recognizing that he'd moved in the heartbeat since it began.
"Stay down!" His father roared, rolling under the table and kicking it up into the doorway that led to the living room just as a large figure appeared in it.
The heavy roar of a shotgun roared once as the table flipped through the air, and the heavy wood shuddered but didn't splinter, and then the table struck the figure hard on and fell to the floor.
Anthony Harris winced as he forced himself to his feet, keeping his head low, and ran toward the living room. "Bastards!!"
Xander watched, eyes wide, as his father dove over the wrecked table and vanished into the living room behind the wrecked pile of wood and metal. He hesitated only a second, then spun back to Willow, "Are you alright?"
She nodded.
"Mom?"
"I... I'm ok." Jessica Harris nodded.
"Come on, we've got to move!" Xander said, coming up into a half crouch.
Willow nodded and started toward the kitchen door.
"No! Willow! No!" Xander snapped just as the door smashed open to reveal a figure with an old fashioned Tommy gun in his arms.
Xander dove for Willow as the man opened fire on the room, spraying shots indiscriminately. Willow shuddered as she took eight consecutive strikes across her body, blood plumes blossoming along her back as the heavy bullets punched right through.
"No." Xander went white, his voice a hoarse whisper of shock and pain, as he reached out and caught his best friend's body before it could hit the ground.
"Sorry kid." The man smirked as he leveled his Thompson on Xander, "Thems the breaks."
Before he could fire, a boom echoed through the room and a scattering of pellets caught the man on the shoulder and cheek, causing him to flinch back in pain. Xander half turned to see his father leveling a captured shotgun rush into the room.
The man was a pro. He didn't duck for cover or run, he just shifted his Thompson's aim and squeezed the trigger as Anthony Harris was still racking the slide of the Mossberg. The .45 caliber slugs ripped into the man's chest and head from less then fifteen feet away, punching him back into the broken table and sending the shotgun flying from his hands.
"Bastard." The Scarred Man snarled, stepping out into the middle of the room and firing another burst into the elder Mr Harris.
When he was sure the man was dead he turned the muzzle of the gun downwards, fired two short bursts into the shocked and frightened form of Jessica Harris. And then he turned back to Xander.
Xander watched as the light flickered in his Willow's eyes, watched her look up at him and felt for a moment that she even saw him, though her eyes were unfocused. Her lips moved, but whatever she was trying to say was cut off when her eyes went glassy, the last flickering hope of life gone.
Xander had seen that before, but never in one so close to him, and he just froze in the moment as he stared down at her limp form. After a long moment he looked up, staring at the Scarred Face of the man who had pulled the trigger.
"Sorry kid," The man repeated with a sneer. "But like I said, thems the breaks."
The last thing Xander saw was the flash of the Thompson Muzzle as it reflected off the sneering face of the man he hated with every fibre of his being.
He never heard the first of the five rounds that entered his body as the world went black.
He was moving.
Quickly too, he could feel himself being jarred around from side to side as someone jostled him.
"His BP is dropping!! Move him, Stat!"
Xander could hear voices coming from somewhere nearby, or maybe they were from a long distance, he couldn't tell.
"We're losing him!!"
They sounded anxious about something, but Xander couldn't tell what it was. It wasn't like it mattered anymore. Willow was gone. Nothing mattered anymore.
A loud wailing noise irritated him slightly, but it was fading into the distance even as somewhere out there, the shouting began again.
"He's flatlined! Get me a defib unit and thirty cc's of..."
Xander was floating in a very nice place. He couldn't quite tell what it looked like because everything around him was white, and it all looked the same. Still, it was a nice place, he decided.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Home.
"Hey Bro."
Xander turned around, his eyes wide in confusion. "Jessie?"
"Yeah Bro." The young man smiled grimly. "It's me."
"And me." A new voice spoke.
"Willow." Xander swallowed, suddenly feeling a spike of pain. Willow was dead.
"That's right." The red head said softly. "I am."
"So am I, I take it." Xander sighed.
"Not yet." Jessie said, his face a little grimmer. "Listen, Bro... we need to talk to you bout something."
Xander snorted, "Go ahead. What the hell else am I going to do?"
Both of them winced.
"Xander..." Willow licked her lips. "Don't be mad..."
"I'm not mad at you Willow..." Xander said softly, smiling. "I'm mad at the son of a bitch who did this to you."
"Don't be mad at him either." Jessie said, a little nervously. "Really man, it's not worth..."
"Not worth it!?" Xander snapped, turning on his best bud. "He *killed* Willow!!"
Willow swallowed, "Xander... please... You have to listen. You're going back soon..."
Xander turned to look at her, a glint of something in his eyes. "Good."
"No... Bro, please. Listen to us..."
Xander continued without hearing Jessie's words, "I'm going to find him. I'm going to kill him."
"No!" Willow cried, "Xander, no! Please don't."
"He killed you, Willow. He killed you, and my parents, and he tried to kill me." Xander shook his head, "No. He's gonna die. That's written in stone."
The two spirits looked at each other in sorrow.
"Xander, bro... if you do this... you'll never come back here." Jessie said finally, playing his trump card. "You'll never see us again."
Xander opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it. "What?"
Willow looked over at him sadly. "That's why we're trying to tell you this, Xander... This is heaven... you can't kill someone in cold blood and come in here. It's not done."
Xander's mouth felt dry of a sudden, and he couldn't speak.
"He's going back..." Jessie said urgently.
"Please!" Willow rushed over to him, "Please! Xander! Don't do it! Don't do it! Come back to us when it's time!!"
Xander tried to speak, but couldn't, as he felt himself be drug back away from them and the light. And back into the darkness.
When the world came back it came first as an odd, almost omnipresent droning sound that Xander couldn't place. After a moment it brought a voice with it as well.
"Is he going to make it, Doctor?"
Xander tried to open his eyes for a moment, but didn't have the strength, so he just lay there and listened. The voice he'd heard wasn't familiar to him, it was someone he didn't know. For some reason Xander felt a chill run through him at that thought, but his mind was so foggy and unclear that he couldn't tell why.
"Yes, I believe he will Sir." A female voice replied.
"When will he wake up?"
"Anytime now, Sir. But I'm afraid it could be a while before he can answer any questions."
The male voice snorted. "We don't need any answers from him, Doctor. The body of Fat Franky Delgatto was found in the Harris home when our response team hit the house. That means that Franky and his partner, Calvin Vascotti were there. Tony got Franky... don't know how, but Tony was always a good agent... But Cal the Cap must have gotten Tony before he could do much more then get a round off."
Xander's mind laughed a little hysterically. <Cal the Cap? Fat Franky? What is this? Saturday morning cartoons??>
"I don't understand why we're involved at all, Sir." The female voice asked. "This is kind of small time for us, isn't it?"
The male voice was terse when he responded. "Anthony Harris, excuse me, Agata used to be one of our people. We loaned him to the feds as an infiltrator in the organized crime rackets... He did superbly..."
The man snorted, "Maybe too well. Every crime family on the planet, practically, wanted his head by the time it was over. He had to go into hiding. That was... hell that was almost nineteen years ago now."
"I see." The woman said flatly in a voice that stated simply that she didn't see at all.
"You just 'see' him well, Doctor." The man snapped angrily. "That's your job."
Xander heard the woman sniff, and then some sounds of metal parts moving.
"I'm aware of my Job, Colonel." The woman said, "And may I remind you that you're in a medical facility... No smoking."
"Right." The man growled in a gravely voice.
A few moments later Xander could smell the scent of tobacco burning.
"You just make him well." The male voice snapped again, and Xander heard an odd noise in the background.
After that the room was silent except for the occasional sighs and mutters from the woman.
"Make you well..." The woman said after a moment, startling Xander with her proximity. "As if he had to make it an order."
He felt her move something around him, and then there was a pinching sensation in the crook of his arm before she spoke again. "There... that'll make you comfortable while we work on those extra holes you picked up..."
A moment after that Xander drifted out again, the last sound he heard was that same odd droning in the background.
"They're all dead." Cal the Cap said into the cell phone, his scarred face a little more tired then it had been earlier. "Yeah. Tony too."
He listened for a bit and nodded, "Same account. Just transfer the cash... You'll have the proof in the morning. Yeah. Like you asked."
"I'm fine, Joey." Cal said after a moment. "The bastard got Franky, that's all. Hey, we knew going in that he was trouble."
Another silence, followed by a snort. "How? He got Franky with his own fuckin shotgun. Yeah. Yeah, you can tell Desmond that his brother went out like a man. Then you can fucking tell him that he'd better have my five mil ready, otherwise I'll be happy to give him a similar chance."
"Right." Cal snorted. "Whatever. In the mornin, Joey."
Then Cal the Cap flipped his phone shut and steered his car toward LA. He knew a family run agency that would steer him some starlet wannabe for a couple nights. After he got those damn pellets out of his face, of course.
He snorted.
Who knew? Maybe in a couple years he'd even see her on some crappy flick and be able to brag to his buddy's about nailing the bitch.
The next time the world came back to Xander it brought light with it. A lot of light. He groaned slightly and tried to roll over, but found that he was strapped down to the bed.
"Wha... th...?" he got out in a slurred voice as that damned droning echoed in his ears again.
"Yer awake." That gravelly voice from earlier stated flatly.
"No shit." Xander muttered, trying to move again.
"Don't strain yerself kid." The voice said from down by the foot of his bed. "The restraints are t' keep you from popping any stitches. We've got you on a quick-heal drip, but it'll still take time to knit those fuckers back together."
Xander blinked a couple times, trying to clear his eyes. Finally he succeeded in seeing the source of the voice in more then just a dark blur. "Who'r you?"
"Name's Fury, kid." The man with the eye patch said as he pulled a cigar out of his pocket. "I used ta know yer Pop."
Xander swallowed, but his mouth and throat were dry and rasping. The man named Fury noticed his motions and set the cigar down for a moment, "Here..."
Xander nodded gratefully as he felt the tube by his mouth move. Fury tucked it in between his teeth and Xander bit down, opening the valve and filling his mouth with cool water. After a moment Xander spit it out and nodded. "Thanks."
"No sweat, kid." Fury said, biting off the tip of his cigar and pulling out an old battered lighter.
Xander didn't say anything as Fury lit the cigar and took a puff of it. Fury just stared back with his one good eye, and for a long time neither of them spoke.
"Where am I?" Xander asked finally, breaking first under the other man's stare.
"Can't tell ya that." Fury replied.
"What's that noise?" Xander asked, referring to the droning sound in the background.
"Can't tell ya that neither."
Xander glared at the man, "Where's my friends?"
"Back in Sunnydale I assume." Fury replied flatly.
Xander let out an angry sigh, "Why the hell am I here then, and not there?"
"Cause yer dead." Fury said, then sighed tiredly. "As far as anyone is concerned, you bit the big one same time as yer parents and yer girlfriend."
"She wasn't my girlfriend." Xander bit out angrily. "And what the hell are you talking about? Im not dead."
"You are if the people who hit yer folks ever realize that yer still breathing." Fury replied. "The contract was for the entire Harris family. We found out about it just a few minutes too late. I'm sorry kid."
"Sorry!?" Xander strained against his restraints. "What the FUCK do you know about sorry!? That was my *family*! By BEST FREAKING FRIEND!! What the hell do you know about SORRY!?"
Xander convulsed in the bed, tearing against the restraints as he tried to get loose in his anger. But that only lasted for a few seconds until he felt a ripping pain, and suddenly collapsed as his eyes crossed in the blinding moment. "Ahhhh!!!"
"Shit." Fury cursed, hitting a buzzer. "Doc! Get in here!"
A woman in a white labcoat rushed in a second or two later and pushed down on Xander as he tried to move again. "Hold still!"
She looked him over and cursed lightly, "He popped some stitches!! Colonel, help me out here! Hold him down!"
Fury rushed over and laid his weight against Xander, pinning the younger man solidly to the bed as the doctor grabbed a needle with a blue fluid from a nearby case. She quickly tapped it clear and then injected it into the IV drip.
A few moments later, Xander felt the world drift away again.
"Fuckin kid's strong." He heard Fury mutter as the one eyed man let up the weight. "I'd have thought he'd be weaker after losin all that blood."
"He probably is." The doctor replied. "The boy may look small, but his muscles are tight... wiry. He's a quick healer too, and responding well..."
"Or, at least," The doctor glared at Fury. "He *was* until you talked to him."
Fury shrugged, "Sorry Doc."
"Right." She muttered, like she believed a word he said. "Out."
"I'm going."
The world finally faded completely away.
"We are gathered here today in memory of a fine young man," The priest spoke from rote, just interchanging the words from the other two he had already done today. But as he spoke he looked down at the gathered people and began to realize that maybe there was something different about this one.
"Alexander Harris, a young man cut down far to soon..." He could see the normal mourners, the ones who had been to the two earlier funerals of the boy's parents. But many more had arrived since then. Students from the boys school, of course, but he could also see others from the town, and even Rabbi Whithers from the synagogue across town. "In the prime of his life, and yet he had obviously touched so many of you..."
The front row was crying.
That was normal, of course. And everyone was solemn, and that too was normal. But, the feeling the priest was getting from the assemblage wasn't just respect for the dead. There was something else there too.
Something profound.
He continued with his prepared sermon, and finally ended it with the traditional statement. "I understand that some of his friends have some words to say... If you'd like to step up here...?"
Half the crowd of nearly one hundred people moved to get up.
That was different enough to surprise the young priest. What happened next even more so.
All of them immediately sat back down when the noticed a young blond girl move. They all watched silently as she made her way to the podium and stood by the microphone that had been set up. Behind them was the closed casket that the coroner had strongly advised them to leave closed, due to the number of bullet wounds the departed had taken to the head.
The blond swallowed back her tears, and looked over the group with shining green eyes.
"Xander... Xander saved my life." She said finally, forcing a small smile. "A lot. He did that for everyone he knew though... and never asked anything for himself. Once when I had an... accident... I died. Xander was the one who brought me back. He was the best person I knew..."
She swallowed and tears welled up in her eyes as she choked out mor words, "O... one of the best."
Everyone nodded, knowing what and who she meant. There was still another funeral to attend today.
"Xander..." She closed her eyes, slumping in place until an older blond haired woman rushed up and braced her up. "Xander... I'll miss you."
As she was led back to her seat, a line slowly formed behind the podium as people prepared to pay their respects.
"... Xander always had time for you, if you just asked." Said one young man named Jonathon Levinson. "I... I wish I'd asked more often."
"... Xander Harris could be the most annoying person in the world... but..." Cordelia Chase swallowed the painful lump in her throat. "I never had as much fun as when he was annoying me."
The people continued to speak, relating stories or just thanking the closed casket behind them, until the line was ended. And then the young priest, himself swallowing a lump in his throat, stepped up to finish the sermon.
As it was done, the people began to file out of the church, and Rupert Giles wrapped one arm around Joyce and another around Buffy. "Come... I'll drive us to the Synagogue for Willow's... Willow's..."
The words stuck in his throat as he tried to say them, but Joyce nodded and gently patted his shoulder. "Thank you, Rupert."
"Yeah..." Buffy Summers whispered, her voice still in shock. "Thanks Giles."
Giles nodded, but didn't answer. He just led them out to the waiting car and made certain that they were safely seated in it before walking around to the drivers side himself. He paused before getting in, gently laying his fist on the roof of the car as his stomach knotted and churned. After a moment he'd forced the feeling down into the bottom of his gut, his outward resolve solidified.
Only then did he dare get behind the wheel of a motor vehicle.
Xander woke up slowly again, this time his curtains were drawn so there was less light to bother him. In the background the drone continued unabated, but he decided to ignore it.
The room was empty now, and Xander twisted in the bed to get the best view of it he could.
<Standard hospital room mostly...> He decided, <Don't know about that door though... doesn't look normal. Looks... naval.>
He pushed it aside for the moment, trying to focus on his condition.
He felt better, that was certain. The pain in his chest and stomach was gone now, just a dull ache remaining. <I've been under a long time then... Hope not too long. I need to move.>
That was when he realized that the straps had been removed. He blinked in surprise at first, then sat up. The motion brought a groan to his lips, but it wasn't too bad so he checked himself. The wounds on his chest and stomach still had stitches in them, but they looked a lot better then Xander'd expected. Even so they were angry red puckers on his skin. He lightly fingered one of them, wincing in pain, both physical and mental.
<Ouch.>
Xander shook his head and levered himself out of bed, taking a few unsteady steps as he made his way to the door. He'd been right, he realized, it was sealed like a shipboard door, solid and unwieldy. But not locked.
Xander smirked and pushed it open slightly. He peered into the next room and, seeing now one, slipped through the door.
<This place is huge!> Xander blinked five minutes later as he ducked down an empty corridor to avoid three men who had appeared from around a corner. They marched past his position without seeing him, and Xander forced himself painfully to his feet and followed them from a distance.
He didn't know where they were going, but figured that since he could at least assume that *they* knew where they were going, it was better then wandering aimlessly.
The three men took the next set of stairs up, moving quicker then Xander could follow, and vanished through another hatch. Xander made it to the hatch and peered through.
<Gone. Great.> He looked around, moaning slightly as he leaned back against the wall and held a hand over one of his wounds. <Now where?>
He slowly climbed the stairs, taking them as high as they went. <This thing, whatever it is, has got to have a top... right?>
It did. And he reached it.
He stopped at the top and hesitated a moment, but finally nodded to himself and opened the hatch. A cold breeze filtered in, sending a chill through Xander who was already shivering from running around in his bare feet and hospital gown. He ignored it and slipped outside.
The sun was blinding, forcing Xander to blink a few times in rapid succession as his eyes tried to adjust. As he got a good look around he swallowed.
<I'm on a freaking aircraft carrier!!> He thought in shock. A shock that was redoubled when he turned around and found himself standing near the edge of the deck with nothing but a railing between him and a ten thousand foot fall to the countryside that was slowly passing below him.
Xander stared over the edge at the terrain that flowed past so slowly, just frozen in shock for long moments. The shock was interrupted by a stern voice behind him.
"Place your hands behind your head and kneel down on the deck, Sir!"
Xander turned slowly to see five men in uniform pointing weapons at him. He didn't recognize the type, but he knew the business end of a rifle well enough to know one when it was pointed at him.
A rush of fear coursed through him, sheer terror as he froze and images began to flash in front of his eyes.
"No!! Willow!! No!!"
Gunshots.
Blood spattering.
Willows dead weight in his arms.
His Father flying back from the impact of the rounds.
The spatter of blood and gore as his mother was shot.
The last flicker of light in Willow's eyes.
"Sir! Please place your hands behind your head and kneel on the deck!!" The man repeated, slowly approaching the stony figure.
"Is he ok, Sarge?" One of the men asked as they looked at the man's pallid face.
"Looks like he's from the hospital wing." The lead agent said, reaching out slowly to grab the man's arm. He took it and forced it back, "Just hold steady pal. I'm gonna take you in to see the Colonel."
The figure didn't resist as the Sargent pulled a pair of binders from his belt and brought it up to his arm.
"You sure that's necessary, Sarge?" Another man asked, frowning. "He looks pretty out of it."
"SOP, Higgins." The Lead Agent replied as he clicked the binders around the man's wrist and started to grab the other.
A sharp pain at his wrist snapped Xander out of his frozen loop, and his eyes locked in on the barrels of the weapons again for a split second before he lost it.
He spun to the right, yanking the man closest to him into the path of the weapons. Then he drove his knee into the man's side, grabbed him by the hair, and charged the group with the man as a human shield.
They scattered as he run through, but Xander didn't keep going, he drove a heel into the back of the first man's knee and then reached out and grabbed the closest by the uniform. He pulled the man close in, driving a knee into his sternum as he bent him over, and retrieved the man's weapon in a single smooth motion.
The rest of the squad pulled together quickly, reacting instantly as the gun came up toward them, but found themselves still out maneuvered by the young man.
Xander squeezed the trigger as the gun fell into line with the first agent, but the weapon only buzzed once and refused to fire. He frowned, looking down for a moment to see a red light flashing on the weapon. He tried to fire it twice more with the same results, then simply whipped the rifle sized weapon across the gap into the face of the closest armed figure.
More weapons were coming to bear on him as he reached down, grabbed the man at his feet by the hair, and yanked him up as another human shield.
The agent yelled in pain and tried to drive an elbow into Xander's gut, which was easily blocked as Xander got him in an arm lock and twisted until he heard it pop. The man screamed this time, but Xander didn't even hear it as he planted a foot in the man's back and drove him headlong into the tightest group of men nearby.
"Get him!!"
Five of them suddenly charged him, overrunning Xander's position, and they went down in a sprawl. Xander kicked, punched, scratched, and bit as a red fury over took him, but finally the men just clubbed him until the darkness came again.
"It was a psychotic break, Colonel."
"From a set of handcuffs??" Fury shook his head, "You've got to be shitting me."
"No sir. But I don't think it was the cuffs." The doctor sighed, "I think it was the agent's guns."
"What?"
"I've looked at the tape, Colonel..." The doctor sighed, "He froze when he saw the guns. I think that the proximity of the Agent just triggered the violence... but break actually occurred several seconds earlier."
Nicholas Fury sighed and shook his head, "He put five of my best men in the medical bay beds next to his... Doctor, this kid shouldn't have been able to *walk*, let alone fight like that."
"After examining his X-rays and test results..." The Doctor hesitated, "I'm still not sure what to say."
"X gene?" Fury asked tersely.
"Negative. He's not a mutant. He heals quickly, but within human levels." The doctor replied, "He's strong and seems to have good reflexes, but again, within human parameters. Frankly, judging from his x-rays I think he's been fighting for a while now."
"Fighting what? He grew up in small town America for Christ sakes." Fury muttered.
"He's received several injuries in the past few months that are consistent with combat." The doctor replied, "fractured ribs, at least one concussion... mild but measurable... contusions..."
"Those could have happened when his house was attacked..." Fury protested.
"No Sir. These injuries are consistent with sustained violence over several months... even a couple years."
Fury shook his head, "Great. So you're telling me I have an eighteen year old combat veteran with no apparent way to have accumulated any combat time... and to top it off, he's got shell shock!"
"Yes Sir."
Fury paced for a moment, shaking his head. Finally he stopped and looked up slowly, "Is it possible that he's a victim of abuse?"
The Doctor frowned, "I considered that... but it's unlikely."
"Why?"
"Because abuse victims don't generally fight back like he has... also," The doctor lifted the unconscious man's hands. "Look at his knuckles... he's certainly been in fist fights, and a lot of them."
"Powder burns?"
"No... nothing like that. His hands are calloused though..." The doctor dropped the hand and shook her head, "I don't know, Colonel. I know that he's been fighting... and I'm willing to bet that he's been fighting quite a lot. But I don't know more then that."
"Great." Fury sighed. "Alright... Fine. Put a full time guard on this door."
"Yes Sir."
"Well that was a useless dust up."
Xander turned around and was surprised to see himself frowning back at him. "Wha?"
"Oh shut your mouth, recruit." His double snapped. "That little temper tantrum of yours just cost us a big hunk of whatever tactical advantage we had."
Xander blinked. "Who are you?"
His double stepped out of the shadows, revealing the fatigues on his body. "I'm you, you dumb putz."
"We're both you." A more sinister voice snarled as another 'him' emerged from the shadows. This one was dressed in black and prowled from side to side as he approached.
"You." Xander paled, falling back from the new comer.
"Yeah. It's me, pup." The figure growled. "And we need to talk. The three of us."
"Why?"
"Don't you remember, Soldier? The Mission." The fatigue clad figure snapped. "You decided on it. Unless you've changed your mind?"
Xander blinked, then remembered suddenly what the other was talking about. The room went cold around him and he shook his head. "No. It's still on."
"Fine, pup. I'm game... should be fun." The dark clad figure growled before laughing in a curious yipping sound. "So how are you going to do it?"
"M.. Me?" Xander shook his head, "No... You do it."
The dark version of him snorted, "Now you want me around. Forget it, pup. I can't."
"Why not?"
"Cause I'm not really here, pup. That's why." The dark figure smirked, "I'm just a figment of your memories."
Xander deflated, but turned to the soldier hopefully. "What about you?"
The soldier shook his head, "No Sir. Same problem, soldier. I'm just you, dressed up to look like I know what I'm doing. You want this mission done, you have to do it."
"I... I don't think I can." Xander sagged.
The figure in black snarled and lunged forward, his eyes glowing yellow as he grabbed Xander by the throat and lifted him off the ground. "Listen here, pup! You want this done, you fucking well get it in your head that you're the ONLY one who *can* do it. It's your 'mission'. Not mine, and not soldier boys over there. SO fucking grow up already!"
Xander gurgled and gasped on the end of the impossibly strong arm, trying to pull the lethal grip away from his throat.
"Still..." The dark figure smirked, "You may be able to pull it off. You were the least weak of those pathetic idiots I took over. It took me an entire day to really get control of you... I had them in a few seconds. You can't have my strength to help, it's gone. So is my sense of smell and hearing. But I do have a little gift for you... here."
The dark figure's eyes glowed again, and then Xander's glowed. And finally he let go.
Xander collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
"Oh toughen up, pup." The dark figure said as he faded away. "You're me now. What's left of me."
Xander rolled onto his back just as the version of him in fatigues stepped over him and looked down at him with impassion. "Sorry this happened, Kiddo. Shouldn't have. But I got to tell you, I've got serious concerns over your course of action."
Xander gasped again, rubbing his throat, but glared up at the figure. "They killed Willow. They killed my parents."
The soldier nodded. "Yeah. I know. Blood for blood, right? No matter the cost?"
Xander just glared.
"Right. Well, you think on it." The soldier shrugged, "Just promise yourself that much. Personally, I'd like to see Willow again someday."
Xander paled, but his resolution didn't waver.
The soldier nodded and sighed, "Fine. Like the animal, I haven't got much to give you... But what's mine, is yours."
The soldier started to fade away, his final words echoing in the wind. "But then... It always was."
The next time Xander awoke he found himself staring at the man with the eyepatch across a cloud of blue smoke.
"No one ever tell you those things will kill you?" Xander finally said dryly.
Fury shrugged, shifting the cigar over to the side of his mouth as he bit down on the well chewed end. "Not me kid. Only the good die young... Trust me, I'll be around forever."
Xander snorted, tensing muscle groups as he tried to determine his situation. He felt some soreness, but nothing crippling, which meant that either he'd been here a lot longer then he thought or these people had some very impressive technology in their hospital wing.
Given the fact that he was in a flying aircraft carrier flying, apparently undetected, ten thousand feet over the United States, Xander was willing to lay odds that both were probably true.
"How long have I been here?"
Fury stood up, marching along the foot of his bed, and pulled the stogey from his mouth. "It's been about a month since you were attacked.
Xander swallowed.
<A month?? I've been awake for... less then a few hours of it.> He paled, shaking his head. "What do you people want?"
"From you?" Fury snorted, returning the smoldering weed to his teeth. "Don't flatter yerself kid. You ain't that important."
"Then why..."
"Because yer Pop, he was one of ours." Fury replied. "When the FBI confirmed the hit was out, we intercepted their memo and send a response team right away. We got there just after the hit happened... Too late to do anything but save you."
Xander nodded slowly, his face blank. "Thanks."
Fury snorted again, knowing that the kid wasn't expressing gratitude. "We did the best we could, kid. It's a big country, and we aint supermen... Sometimes we don't save the day."
"Yeah. Sure." Xander said after a moment, then flipped the blanket off him and levered himself out of bed.
"Kid, you been on yer back for a month. There's no way you're gonna..." Fury's jaw slackened enough for the cigar to droop as Xander walked, albeit unsteadily, across the room.
"Where are my clothes?" Xander demanded, turning back."
<Fuck. After the beating this kid took from my agents, and five rounds of .45ACP... there ain't No fuckin way he should be standing like this. Quick heal or no fucking quick heal.> Fury's mouth clicked shut, the cigar jumping back level. "They're wrecked kid. The doctors had to cut em off you."
"I need some clothes." Xander said, his voice deadly calm. "I can barely walk. I need to move around, get my strength back."
"Kid, you got plenty of time for that." Fury said, moving across the room. "For now you need to rest so you don't tear your innards apart."
Xander spun on the man, growling. "You listen to me you one eyed son of a bitch! My *family* is dead. My best *friend* is dead! If you THINK for one god damned second that I'm going lay here in bed while their murderer is still out there and alive, then you're a total fucking loon!"
Fury glared at him, then slowly took the cigar from his mouth and leaned forward. When his face was inches from Xander's he blew out a large cloud of smoke into Xander's face and jabbed his fingers into Xander's chest. "You ain't doing shit, kid. SHIELD takes care of it's own. We'll find the man who killed your parents and your girlfriend, and when we do he'll wish he was never born. All that *you* are gonna do is lay down, get some more sleep, and work on getting what you call a HEAD screwed on straight! You got me?"
Xander glared back at the man, breathing in long and slow breaths.
"I asked if you GOT ME, you little punk?" Fury snapped.
"I got you. Sir." Xander growled out.
"Good." Fury straightened up, shoved the stogey back into his teeth, and tapped on the door.
It opened a few seconds later, and Nick Fury stepped out, the door closing behind him.
"I got you, you old fucker." Xander growled. "In more ways then one."
Xander paced the room for a few moments before finally dropping to the floor and starting to do reps of pushups.
"He's still at it?"
"The man is a machine Colonel." The doctor confirmed as she watched the camera monitors. "He's been working out for three days now."
"Overdoing it?" Fury asked, watching as the figure on the screens bench pressed the hospital bed off the deck, lowered it to within an inch of the floor, and then repeated.
"Not for a healthy man, Sir." The Doctor hesitated, "Frankly sir... it's a scripted rehabilitation routine. Military actually."
"What??" Fury leaned in closer. "Are you certain?"
"Yes Sir. He's following US Army procedures for recovering muscle mass from serious injury..." The Doctor shrugged, "Maybe a little faster then I'd recommend but..."
Fury cursed, straightening up. "Shit! Who the hell is this kid?"
"I thought you knew, Sir?"
"I thought I did too." Fury growled as he stalked out.
It was night as far as Xander could tell, though he couldn't be sure anymore since they had sealed the window <or is it a porthole?> in his room. He lay in bed staring at the shadowy form of the ceiling above him as his demons came to visit.
"No!! Willow! No!!"
"Bastard!"
"Don't do it, Xander. Don't do it."
"NO!! WILLOW!! NO!!"
Xander started awake, breathing hard as he felt the cold sweat cause the stiff hospital sheets stick to his skin. He lay there, breathing hard for a long moment until he felt his heart slow to a normal level. Slowly he looked over at the digital clock by his bedside and knew what had awakened him.
Finally he closed his eyes again, but didn't move.
<It's got to be now.> He decided. <But how do I get off this thing?>
<I'll only get one chance. They have to keep some vehicles or parachutes or something on this piece of junk. Maybe an escape pod or something.>
The door opened but Xander kept his eyes shut as he heard the doctor move through the half light of the room as she made her nightly check. He figured that someone must consider him to be important, cause it was always the doctor who checked, never a nurse.
When she reached out to take his pulse, Xander moved.
The Doctor barely had a chance to draw in a shocked breath as his hand flipped up and locked around her wrist, yanking her hard into the bed. Once there he rolled over on top of her, his free hand clamping over her mouth as her eyes widened and she drew a breath to scream.
Xander hardened his heart as he pressed down hard on her carotid artery, keeping her mouth covered until her saw her eyes roll back into her head and flutter shut. Only then did he let up and lift his weight off of her. He paused long enough to check her pulse, then checked the clock again.
That done he moved quickly to the door and tapped twice.
When the door opened his arm flashed out, catching the guard by the throat, his thumb jamming into the carotid as he'd done to the doctor. As the guard's eyes bulged Xander pulled him into the half open door, and then slammed the door shut on the guard's head to hold him in place. He stared into the man's shocked eyes as the guard slowly lost his strength and finally slumped. Xander counted to ten, then pushed the door open and pulled the guard inside, letting the door close after he jammed the locking mechanism with his pillow case.
A short while later Xander Harris, clad in an ill fitting guard uniform, emerged from his room and quickly made his way to the computer station in the main medical facility.
The computer was on and logged in, for which Xander counted himself as lucky, so he quickly flipped through the unfamiliar user interface, looking for anything helpful.
He found it three minutes later under the listing of 'emergency procedures'.
The deck schematics were about as confusing as they could be, but he made his way as best he could by their directions to the ready room he'd found on the listing.
The first few guards he passed caused Xander to tense up, but it was quickly obvious that the crew of the carrier was large enough to make his presence passable, at least in the short term. So he quickly found the ready room closest to the hospital wing and let himself in.
Xander looked over the room slowly, taking in it's contents, and, for the first time in literally a month, he smiled.
"What do you mean, GONE!?" Fury snapped as he strode through the corridors toward the hospital wing. "For Christ sakes, he's a god damned invalid!"
"Colonel, Sir... we found the doctor and guard unconscious. The Guard's uniform was taken, and they were left in his room."
"What about the guard's side arm?"
"Taken as well, Sir."
"Fuck!" Fury cursed, tossing his cigar to the side, ignoring the agents who had to duck and dodge the lit stogey. "Alright... I want every station on alert! Bring him back. ALIVE. Unharmed if possible..."
"Yes Sir." The man replied, then stepped back to talk urgently into his ear/throat piece.
"He'll have to go for the upper decks eventually." Fury snapped, "He doesn't have the knowledge to use any of the lower access points. That means he'll trip external security... make sure they're waiting for it."
"Yes Sir."
Fury was almost to the medical wing when the alert came in.
"Sir! He just tripped the alarm on one of the exterior bulkheads! Security will have him in thirty sec..." The man paled.
"What? What is it!?"
"Sir... He just jumped."
The air ripped and whistled around him as Xander rushed through the nightsky, below him he could see the lights of a city passing under him, and in the distance he could see the lights of at least three others.
He splayed his arms out behind him as he rushed through the crisp air, his legs splayed out at an identical angle, and cut the thin air like a falling star.
"Colonel Fury, sir!"
"Did you get the report back from the ready arms rooms?"
"Yes Sir." The man looked worried.
Fury didn't care. "Well? Out with it!"
"The one nearest the hospital wing is missing a flying suit and a para-glide pack, Sir."
Fury shook his head, "God damn. We'll never catch him before he hits ground."
"Sir?" The man hesitated, "But Sir... What are the odds he'll know how to use a flying suit?"
"He won't." Fury growled, "That's what the glide pack is for. It works just like a chute... He'll use the suit to get as far away from the heli-carrier as he can, then he'll pop the pack and touch down in some yokel's backyard. And since we built those suits to be stealthed up the wazoo, we can't even tell what direction he went."
"Yes Sir." The man looked down.
As the man walked off a stocky man with blazing red hair walked over to Fury, "Agata's boy's got some moves, Nick."
Fury glared at him, but the other man just smiled.
"Ah shut up, Dum Dum." Fury finally growled out, much to the other's amusement.
<Passing one thousand feet...> Xander thought, noticing that his descent rate was dropping off as the air got thicker and the 'wings' of his peculiar suit inflated from the rushing pressure into something resembling an aerodynamic structure. <I wonder how good this thing is?>
He raced along to the west, the rising sun starting to lighten the horizon at his back, and not for the first time wondered where the hell he was.
Ahead of him he could see one of the distant cluster of lights growing closer, so he angled toward it as he flashed through the thickening air. By his count he'd been flying, falling, gliding... something at any rate, for almost thirty minutes and had left the flying carrier long behind.
Even so, he wanted to ditch the suit as soon as he could, in case there was a tracker on it. He didn't really expect there to be, at least not one that was active by default, but it was always a possibility. That meant getting to the ground, and into a city, as fast as he could. From there he'd have to get some money, but Xander figured he could manage.
He hoped.
At three hundred feet, with the city lights almost below him, Xander finally popped the chord on the chute he'd grabbed. There was the expect rush of noise, and the sudden jarring halt to his speed as the air brake slowed him, but when he glanced up he got a bit of a surprise.
<Shit! What the hell is that thing??>
The air foil above him bore only the loosest resemblance to a traditional chute, and for a moment Xander felt a panic engulf him. He limited memories of the soldier possession included HALO operations, but they didn't include whatever the fuck that thing was.
A few moments of experimentation later Xander breathed a sigh of relief. The airfoil worked pretty much as a chute did, only more so, and wasn't giving him any trouble. He turned his attention downward again and twisted the angle of attack toward a tall rooftop that he could make out against the harsh glare of neon lights.
<Just my luck. Must be Vegas.>
"Anything!?"
"No Sir."
"Shit." Fury growled, his unlit cigar crushed between his teeth as he looked over the sensor technician's shoulder.
"Ah... yes sir." The tech said nervously.
"C'mon, Nick." The Irish lilt said from behind him, "Your making the enlisted types nervous."
Fury pushed off the console and glared over his shoulder at Dum Dum Dugan, but didn't say anything as he nodded and stepped back. "Remind me to run a few drills later, Dugan. The day a god damned *kid* can escape the Helicarrier is not a good one for our response times."
Dugan chuckled, "Probably right, Nick. Still, he wasn't a prisoner... There was no reason for him to be in a secured area."
"Tell that to the five men he put in the hospital wing." Fury growled.
Dugan shrugged, nodding. "There is that, aye. Still... it didn't seem to be a malicious attack at the time."
"I don't think it was." Fury admitted, "Any more then his moves against the Doc and the guard were. Oh, he intended to take them down... but if he wanted to kill them, he could have."
"He's a kid, Nick. What does he know about killing?"
"I ain't underestimating this bastard again, Dugan." Fury snapped. "Something don't add up in this fuckin story. Something just don't add up."
Xander hit the street from the fire stairs and glanced around the Casino parking lot.
<Have to keep moving.> He thought to himself, his mind already drawing up images of uniformed men in flying suits flashing down on his location.
He walked as calmly as he could down the alley and out into the boulevard, the crowds luckily ignoring the uniform he was wearing as he moved through them, and he took a right as he moved away from the harsh glare of neon and headed to a darker part of town.
Xander wandered the streets for almost an hour, looking over his shoulder and over his head for any sign of pursuit. By design, his meandering took him deeper into the inner city where the lights were a little less jubilant and a lot more suggestive in nature. He figured that he'd have a better chance of ducking pursuit where there weren't twenty camera's focused on every square inch.
Of course, that presupposed that he could keep himself out of trouble in the mean time. A stupid supposition in retrospect.
The shouting caught his attention first and he moved slowly toward the scene, his interest only mildly peaked until he got close enough to see what was going on.
"Stupid bitch!"
The back handed slap sent the woman to the ground in a heap as blood began trickling from her mouth and nose.
The heavy combat boot that landed in her mid-section ended any attempt to cry out she may have started as the man above her looked down, snarling in disgust.
"Fifteen bucks?? Is that it!?" The man growled, "She-it. Hardly worth fucking mugging you, you dumb bitch."
He kneeled down by herm rubbing the side of his face where a trickle of blood was forming from the light wound he'd received when she tried to 'defend' herself. "I'd have probably let you go if you hadn't done this. Now, I'm gonna make an example of you."
He stood up and lifted his foot to stomp down on her when a voice from behind him startled the mugger.
"I'd think twice if I were you, asshole."
The voice sent a brief shiver up his spine as he spun around, but he smiled in relief when he saw that it was just a kid. "Fuck off, you dumb shit. Mind your own business."
"I'll take that under advisement." The kid replied in that same god damned dead voice of his as he walked forward.
"I told you to fuck...uuurrk!!" The man started to snap, but was cut off by a sudden kick to his balls that sent him keening over in pain.
Before he could hit the ground the kid slammed his knee into his face, flipping him back up and off his feet as his nose broke and blood splashed freely in a halo around his face and head. He felt a hand grab his hair in mid air and felt a wrenching pain in his scalp as the iron grip refused to let him fall to the ground and curl up in pain.
"I told you to think twice." The kid snarled as he whipped abound and slammed him through the passengers side window of a parked car. The blow rendered him unconscious and he just slumped there, the darkness being blessed relief from the horrifying pain.
The fight finished, Xander looked down at the ground briefly before turning back to the mugger.
<She'll live.> He thought to himself as he rifled the man's pockets. He retrieved about three hundred dollars, cheap looking revolver, and a black handled dagger with a skull on the pommel.
"Cute." He muttered, pocketing the knife and the cash, then he pulled the man out of the car and stripped off his leather duster, using it to cover the guard's uniform he was still wearing. When he finished that he shoved the bastard back into the broken window and left him hanging there.
Only then did he look back at the woman. "You alright?"
She was curled up on the ground, having trouble breathing through the sobs of pain. Xander noticed her purse on the ground a short distance away where it had been thrown and he walked over to it and glanced through the contents.
A quick comparison of the drivers license to the street name told him that he didn't have the slightest clue where she lived, but he'd passed a free clinic about three blocks back.
<That'll do.> He thought as he walked over to her and easily hefted the woman into his arms and started back down the way he'd came.
Sargent Juan Perez blinked as a man in a long leather coat walked into the clinic with a woman in his arms. He got to his feet slowly, unclipping the latch over his holstered pistol, and moved clear of the patients in the area. He didn't know what the guy was, but he could be hiding an arsenal under that coat.
"She's been mugged." He heard the guy tell the attending nurse, who immediately called for a doctor and a bed.
Perez flinched as the man turned toward him, then walked over. The police officers hand came to rest on his pistol as the man's hand dipped into his coat and retrieved something.
"Here." He said, dropping a snub nose revolver in Perez' hand.
The cop blinked and stared at the weapon in surprise. <Ok. I wasn't expecting that.>
"The mugger is about three blocks that way." The man said, "That's his gun... as violent as the bastard was with her, I expect that maybe he used that a few times. Have someone pick him up."
"Uh... right..." Perez reached for his radio, then noticed the man turning to leave. "Wait! Where are you going?"
The man was already to the door by the time Perez realized he wasn't going to stop.
"Home."
Welcome to Sunnydale.
Xander shoved his hands in his pocket, a psychic chill driving him to huddle up as he walked past the sign and toward the hellmouth. He didn't know if it was actually a sensation of death or evil, or just something his mind was making up, but it didn't really matter. The Hellmouth was bad news, he didn't need to be a Slayer or a Witch or whatever to know that.
It had taken him almost a week to get here, though he should have been here a lot sooner. Unfortunately he didn't want to take a bus and didn't have enough money to buy a clunker, so he had walked and hitchhiked.
The mountains had been cold. The desert had been cold at night, blazing during the day. And now Sunnydale felt muggy as hell and his stolen coat wasn't doing him the least bit of good. Nothing he did seemed to do him any good though, not any more.
He was always cold inside, unless he was asleep. Then he woke sweating.
Xander didn't like to sleep much anymore.
As he moved into the old town he began to feel flashes. Just little hits of memories.
He passed a tree and remembered climbing it with Willow and Jessie when he was five.
An old building became the parking lot that he and Jessie had learned to skateboard in while Willow watched them from behind her books.
And an abandoned factory became the place that he kissed Willow once upon a time.
Not every memory was good, but they were all better then the numbing cold he felt inside now. Xander tried to ignore them as he continued into the town, moving with a stolid sort of refusal to be swayed from his path. Even though he didn't know what that path was.
Under his coat he could feel the weight of the Government Model Colt .45 he had taken from the guard stationed to watch him, it thumped against his thigh with every step he took, and he wondered if he was really going to use it.
He was.
He knew that even as he asked himself the question.
The real question wasn't if. It was when. And against who.
Xander kept walking, finally making his way into the town as the sun peaked in the sky and the sweat began to pour from his face. He looked up as people moved around him and was surprised to see several people he knew, only they just looked past and through him. He didn't really understand why until he glanced in a shop window as he walked.
His hair was long, down to his shoulders, and greasy. It hid his face, and even if it hadn't the dark look in his eyes would cause most people to look away from him before they recognized the face behind the dead look anyway. The long coat hid his body as well as his old colorful clothing always had, but without the hint of cheer... of being *him*.
That suited him well enough.
He didn't need to answer questions. He didn't want anyone he knew to recognize him. That would only lead to trouble, because he knew.
He *knew* that Fury and his cronies were already in town. They had to know that he'd come back here. That meant that they were already in position. Watching Buffy's place at least. Maybe Cordy's... No, Cordy was gone. She'd be in L.A. by now from what she'd told him after graduation.
<Good.> He thought, not slowing or turning as people melted away from him in unconscious disgust. <Good. At least that's one person out of it. Not going to be involved.>
Still, he knew that he couldn't go to Buffy. She was the one person in town that people would certainly have connected him with if questioned. That left Giles as an option.
<No.> Xander shook his head, <Too risky.>
They probably would have locked onto the Brit as well as Buffy. He'd spent too much time in the library, someone would have noticed, and Fury's people would have gotten it out of them.
Somehow.
That meant that he was on his own.
<Fine.> Xander thought to himself as he focused on his path. <Now... what next? Who would have information on something like the murder of my family?>
"Nothing yet, Colonel."
Fury shook his head, "He should be there by now."
"Maybe he went another direction?"
"No. Sunnydale is his only link to the murder of his family." Fury said simply. "He needs a place to start... even if it's got nothing more then that to offer him. Worse comes to worse... he just needs to let people know he's alive again."
"Sir, that's insane!" The woman protested, "The contract on his family extended to him... they'd send someone..."
"That would be the point." Fury replied, frowning as he looked over a report summation. "I don't think this kid cares if he lives or dies just now... He just wants Cal the Cap."
"They'll chew him up and spit him out, Sir."
Fury shook his head, "Don't underestimate this boy, Sharon. He's more then he seems... and if he's given up on living... he's a hundred times more dangerous then that."
"We could put some people on the houses... follow them?" Sharon Carter suggested.
"Negative." Fury snapped. "He could spot that. No, we'll use intercepts for now. We've got every traffic light and security camera in town being run through the computers... he can't hide from us for long. Besides... if we involve the civilians... it could tip our hand. I don't want Dominic Castiglione figuring out that Harris is still breathing."
Willy's Place.
Xander looked around briefly as he stepped through the door, eyeing the usual suspects. <Three bloodsuckers in the corner. Two demons at the bar. Don't know what the fuck those are... Slow night.>
He walked in slowly, not hesitantly, just slowly, until he came up to the bar and looked across the counter to the weasely human behind it.
"What can Willy get ya?"
"Information." Xander said simply.
"Bout what?" The bartender shrugged, dropping his elbows on the bar.
Xander took a breath, "Hit in town. Just over a month ago. Family. Parents, son, and a friend."
Willy drew in a breath, "You're talking bout the Harris Hit."
<Harris Hit. Got that's just sickening.> Xander thought, but he just nodded.
Willy shook his head, "Don't know nothin."
"Don't give me that, Willy." Xander said coldly. "You know a bit about everything in this town."
"Do I know you?" Willy leaned closer, peering through the greasy hair that half covered Xander's face.
Xander looked up, his hair falling away. "I don't know, Willy. Do you?"
Willy paled, falling back from the bar and knocking a bottle off the counter behind him. He ignored it as it broke on the floor, "You're dead!"
"Not yet." Xander shifted his coat open, exposing the .45 in his belt. "But I am on the highway to hell... and unless you want to join me in the express lane, you'd better tell me what you know."
"I don't know nothin!" Willy insisted, "Just rumors! I swear! We didn't hear nothin bout it until it was already done... I'da told the Slayer if I had! Kid, you gotta believe me!"
"Just tell me what you know." Xander repeated, not caring to hear Willy's excuses.
"Hey!"
A voice from behind Xander spoke up and he turned his head slightly to see one of the vamps moving across the bar.
"Hey!" The vamp repeated, moving toward Xander. "We don't like your kind in here, bloodbag!"
Xander didn't move, he just looked at Willy. "Call him off, Willy. Or things are going to get violent."
Willy shivered, then nodded, looking up. "Hey pal... it's ok... just go on back to your table..."
"Fuck you, human. You don't give me orders, you just keep slinging the drinks." The vamp replied, almost behind Xander by that time. "I'm just going to have a freebi..."
He was cut off by the sudden explosion of violence that caught him at it's dead center.
Xander exploded outward, raw rage powering his motions as he grabbed the vampire by the ear, hooking his fingers harshly into the cartilage and yanking. The vamp yelped in pain and went with the movement involuntarily as Xander powered his arm down. The vampire's head bounced off the bar as Xander's boot snapped into the back of his knee, the resulting force sending the undead bloodsucker back off balance and flat to the ground, more in shock then pain.
Xander drew his pistol as he fell with the vamp, coming to one knee over the surprised vamp's body and jamming the barrel of the gun into the creature's left eye.
The report of the weapon was muffled by it's position, but was still sharp enough to cause everyone in the bar, demon, vampire, and human alike, to jump in shock.
Xander slowly rose to his feet, his face still dead and uncaring. "Huh. Didn't dust."
He kicked the unmoving body over, eyeing the mess on the floor, then looked at the other two vampires with dark eyes. "But I'll bet he takes more then a few weeks to heal from that. Anyone else?"
There was no response from the vamps in the corner, but a rumbling sound from his right caused Xander to look over. The two demons he didn't know were laughing, huge rumbling belly laughs, as they looked at the twitching body of the vampire. Xander didn't understand anything they were saying, but he shrugged it off. As long as they were laughing, and not coming after him, it wasn't any of his business.
He turned back to Willy, and fixed the weasel with another glare.
"Talk to me, Willy. Tell me what I need to know."
The bartender paled even more, the nodded. "Alright... alright... I'll tell you what I know."
Xander tilted his head, as if to say 'go on'.
"I know that the hitter was Cal the..."
"Cap. I know that. Move it on, Willy."
Willy swallowed, "He was hired by a racket out east. New York or Chicago. The word is that it was probably Big Dom in Chicago... Your old man was a cop, brought down a lot of families almost twenty years ago... they wanted him real bad."
"How do I find this Cal the Cap?" Xander asked, filing away the rest of the information for later.
Willy shrugged, "Put out a contract."
Xander growled, and the bartender backpedaled.
"Seriously.. I don't know. He was in LA for a while, for sure. Maybe he's still there... He got *paid* for taking your family out. I mean, THE payday. Last I heard, the rumors had him screwing starlets in LA every night, and twice on sundays. The families... they got inroads into that business, you know... he's got money to blow, connections, and people who think of him as the second coming cause he took out your old man..."
Xander snarled and snapped to his feet.
"I'm sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean nuthing!" Willy cried out, but Xander was already turning away and heading out the door.
Willy watched him go, then wiped his face clean. "Shit. Oh shit. He used to be the fucking *nice* guy of that bunch. Jesus, I'd rather have the Slayer pounding me then look into those eyes again."
Buffy Summers set her face grimly as she pushed past the grimy man in leather who was leaving Willy's. Their shoulder's thumped hard enough to put her off her stride, almost sending her into the doorframe.
"Hey pal! Watch where you're going!" She snarled, not being in the mood to apologize for any misstep of her own.
He hesitated in midstep, then just shrugged and kept moving, leaving the Slayer to fume behind him.
<Rude much?> Buffy thought, but let it go. She had a job to do now, and that's all there was to it. She didn't have time to play around now. She was the Slayer.
She knocked the door open, stepping in just in time to see Willy trying to drag a body into the back room. Her lips curled a bit as she saw the trail of blood and gore on the ground, "Well well, Willy. What *have* you been up to?"
Willy looked up, dropped the legs of the body, and grabbed a bar towel from his belt. He wiped his face, "Now Slayer, this isn't what it looks like... I swear..."
"I know you do, Willy. You swear every night when I come in. You swear every night when I leave. You swear a lot, Willy..." Buffy said sarcastically as she walked up to him and looked down at the body in distaste. "So, what exactly hap... Willy! This is a Vampire!"
Willy nodded glumly, "Yeah. No kidding."
"Who did this??" Buffy looked up, her eyes locking with the nervous bartender.
"Well... uh... you see..." Willy backpedaled. "I'm not sure that you'll believe me."
Buffy flipped a stake out of her belt, knifed it downward in a throw that pierced the vamp's heart, then grabbed Willy by the throat and, lifting him bodily by one hand, threw him onto the bar. "You better talk to me, Willy. Before someone is dragging YOU out of the bar."
Willy shook on the bar, "Look... Slayer... You've been beating the crap out of me almost every night for a month... Have I ever lied to you??"
"You don't really want me to answer that do you??" Buffy snarled angrily.
Willy started to speak, then shook his head mutely.
"Right." She smirked, "Who did that?"
Willy nervously licked his lips, swallowed, and then spoke hesitantly. "It... it was that Harris kid you used to hang with..."
Buffy's eyes widened, her lips pulled back in a rigor over her teeth, and she suddenly yanked Willy off the bar and catapulted him across the room into a table. The table splintered under him, sending glass and wood splinters flying everywhere.
"Try again." Buffy growled as she stalked across the room.
"I swear!! I SWEAR!! I thought he was dead too! But he walked in here tonight, pissed as all hell and asking about the hit on his family!!" Willy scampered backward, desperately trying to avoid the enraged Slayer.
"Xander is DEAD." Buffy ground out. "He was shot five times in a home invasion over a month ago."
Willy shook his head, "That's not what happened! It was a mob hit! His father was in the witness protection program... the home invasion story is a phony!!"
Buffy's eyes bulged in anger as she lunged forward and plucked Willy off the ground, slamming him into the wall, his feet three inches off the floor. When she spoke, her voice was dangerously quiet. "What?"
"The story's been all over the underground, Slayer..." Willy said nervously. "They say that Big Dom out in Chicago set the hit on Anthony Agata... Harris... His family were just part of the bargain."
Buffy seethed, her arms shaking as she felt her teeth clench in rage. "Xander?"
"He... he was Agata's son..." Willy said hysterically. "They wanted to send a message."
"And Willow?" Buffy's eyes were glistening by this point, but the moisture only served to augment the rage in them.
Willy tried to shrug, and finally just spoke quietly. "She was just there. That's all."
Buffy's arms shook as she blinked away the tears, "What didn't you ever tell me this before!?!?"
"You never asked?" Willy asked hesitantly.
Buffy screamed in rage and pivoted, throwing Willy back across the bar. He hit the counter and crashed over it, knocking bottles and glasses everywhere. Two demons by the bar were laughing their asses off as she stalked back across the room.
"Tell me about Xander! NOW!"
Willy's voice was weak, "Christ Slayer... You just fucking passed him. He left just as you came in."
Buffy spun around, her hair sweeping out in a halo around her head as she looked to the door. He hesitated only an instant, and then was out the door at a dead run.
Behind her, in the carnage, two demons toasted each other with the large steins of Vodka they had and rumbled in laughter.
<"That is the best night's entertainment I've had in decades!">
<"I told you. This Willy joker gets slapped around more then your Husbands.">
Xander left Willy in a turmoil. He hadn't expected to run into Buffy, especially not literally, and it ground him up inside to walk away from her. But he didn't want her involved in what he was going to do, it wasn't something she needed on her soul. Not even by association.
<Besides.> He thought grimly, <She may try to stop me.>
He grimly continued through the Sunnydale night, his feet leading the way as his mind refused to consider what he needed to.
"GILES!!"
Rupert Giles yelped in pain as he spilled his steaming tea on his lap in surprise, "Lord... hot! Hot!"
"Stop playing around, Giles! I was just talking with Willy..."
Giles turned on Buffy as she slammed the door behind her, snarling ferally. "Oh goody. And what does our Mr Willy have to say that's more important then me receiving third degree burns??"
"Xander's alive."
That floored him.
"What?" Giles blinked, shaking his head as he forgot about the burning and reached for his glasses. "I fail to see how that's possible."
"Giles... Did you see the body?" Buffy demanded.
Giles blinked, "Why of course. I identified them for the..."
He trailed off.
"What?"
Giles frowned, "I identified Willow. They told me that Xander had been shot five times... three to the face and..."
Buffy paled but nodded, "And they said you might not want to remember him that way."
Giles nodded.
"They told mom the same thing." Buffy said calmly, a little color returning. "Giles... Willy swears that Xander was just there tonight."
Giles sat down, resting his head on one hand in shock. "Could he be lying?"
"It's Willy." Buffy said grimly. "He could always be lying. But I'm not so sure..."
"Why's that?"
"Because of something else he told me." Buffy replied, "He said that it wasn't a home invasion. It was a Mob Hit."
Giles' lip curled, "Oh come now."
"He said that Xander's dad was in witness protection..." Buffy continued, "Giles... don't you think it's possible?"
Giles hesitated, thinking. He closed his eyes and sat back until he finally shook his head, "I don't know."
"What if he is still alive?" Buffy asked, her face pleading.
Giles hesitated again, not wanting to shatter the hope in her eyes. The first hope he'd seen in Buffy for over a month. "Then I suppose we should locate him... But, Buffy... if he's alive... why hasn't he contacted us?"
Buffy closed her eyes, sinking back into herself. "I don't know."
But she lied. She knew, deep inside, precisely why he hadn't.
The house still had yellow police tape surrounding it, though the tape was blowing over in places and torn down in others. Xander stepped over a fluttering piece of tape, then walked across the yard that had been his for so long.
At the front door he paused, looking over his shoulder.
<This is stupid.> He told himself. <They could be here already... getting ready to take me...>
He shook it off and shoulder the door open, letting himself into the kitchen directly.
He closed his eyes for a second, then opened them.
There was tape on the floor, rust colored stains around it, in the form of four bodies. He paused by the closest one and kneeled down, a tear forming in his eyes.
"Willow..." He whispered. "I'm sorry."
He lowered his head, his hand brushing the empty space on the floor that marked where her head had come to lay. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."
He swallowed and got up, moving through the room like a wraith.
"Mom." He said softly over the tape that marked her death, then "Dad."
"I don't know what to do." He admitted to the three places that represented his family. "How can I leave them alive? How can I let them get away with this? The cost doesn't matter to me anymore... I'll take whatever consequences come... I'm ready for that."
The room was silent in response.
Xander sighed, shaking his head. "I shouldn't have come. I have to go, guys."
On his way out the door he paused and looked back at the closest figure cut with tape. "I'm sorry."
"We've got a hit!"
Fury snapped around, "Where?"
"His old homestead." Carter replied, tossing the report to his desk. "I've already got a response team scrambling... but he's already left."
Fury took a breath, "It's alright. I think I know where he's going to go next. Prepare one of the AH-120's for me... I'm going myself."
"Sir... Respectfully..." Carter said slowly as Fury scowled at her, "I don't believe that's wise."
"Oh? And why is that?"
"Because, to be frank, we have a situation developing in Panama that needs your attention. Plus there are rumors of a new Hydra cell in Hong Kong that are becoming worrisome. This kid may mean something to you because of his old man, but he's small potatoes."
Fury sighed, sinking back. He hated it when Carter used logic against him. "Fine. Who's leading the team?"
"Natasha, Sir."
"For God's sakes," Fury groaned, "Tell her not to kill him."
"Yes Sir." Sharon Carter smiled.
Xander took a right at his driveway, then another at the corner. When he reached the end of the block he took a left, crossed the street, and went on for two blocks before ducking into a stand of trees. He didn't see anyone following him, but he could feel something itching at the beck of his neck and was beginning to feel more then a little paranoid.
He did have a method to his madness though, he knew where he was going, even if he could have gotten there a hell of a lot quicker using a more direct route. Cutting through the trees was rough going, something it never seemed to be when he, Jessie, and Willow had done it years earlier. Of course, Xander realized belatedly, he had been a lot shorter then.
It took his a few minutes, but he broke out into from of Sunnydale's twelve graveyards. It was one of the seven that was still in use, the other five having been filled up long before.
<Twelve known graveyards,> He thought to himself as he moved through the rows of cement markers and ornate mausoleums. <I'd hate to think of all the unknown ones in this town...>
He shrugged off the thought as he detected motion out of the corner of his eyes and glanced toward the shadows that were moving and melding through the night that engulfed him. He could tell from experience that they were the regular denizens of the Sunnydale, a couple vamps and a demon or two on their nightly runs for food, entertainment, or just exercise.
Normally he'd be inclined to follow, but this night he didn't have the time. <Or the inventory.> He sighed to himself as he considered his dwindling armory.
The .45 was a good weapon, but he only had six rounds left for it, and to disable a vamp he'd have to get a head shot at the very least. The odds on that weren't great, especially not with the report of a pistol to attract all sorts of other nasties, up to and including the authorities.
It was beyond stupid, in fact, to be wandering a Sunnydale graveyard like this, Xander knew. But he had one stop to make, one question to ask, before he could move on.
<To LA.> He promised himself.
It didn't matter what the answer was, he had to go to LA now. The only question that remained was what would happen when he got there.
"Are you certain about this?" Giles asked as he tagged along behind Buffy, hastily buttoning up his jacket as he confirmed the positioning of his weapons.
"Where else would he go, Giles?" She asked simply. "I should have gone straight there... but maybe we're not too late."
"His home perhaps? His parents...?"
"No. Well... maybe..." Buffy conceded, "but I *know* he'll go to her, Giles. I know it."
"Very well. We'll soon see."
"Move it, Jose. We've got a schedule to meet."
The tense words were disguised behind an ironic tone as the woman slapped the agent on the back. He nodded easily and stepped up his speed as he and the others jogged swiftly through the trees. The best guess destination of the target was just ahead, and the four man SHIELD team were almost there.
Xander kneeled beside the obsidian marker, looking at the elegant engraving on the stone.
Willow Rosenberg. Beloved Daughter and Friend. She will be missed.
He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head slowly as he tried to will away the pain.
"God Wills... I should have gotten to you faster." He said, his voice thick with emotion. "I should have been faster. Better. Now I don't know what I'm going to do anymore."
He looked down, then up at the stars above him.
"Was it just a dream, Will?" He asked after a moment. "Did you and Jess really come to me? Was I just hallucinating? I don't know. I can't tell anything anymore..."
He took a deep breath as he tried to focus on the stone despite it's constant shimmering and wavering as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. "How can I let him get away with it? He killed you... my parents... He tried to kill me. How can I let him walk free, enjoying the blood money he earned from our blood?"
There was no response as he spoke softly to the stone, trying to get his own thoughts in order more then really expecting an answer.
"I don't want to disappoint you, Will. I really don't." Xander said softly. "But how am I supposed to live knowing that he's out there... laughing?"
There was still no answer but, again, Xander wasn't really expecting one so he got up slowly and sighed. The noise that tipped him off was so faint that he almost missed it, but as it pierced his mental fog it sounded like a bullhorn.
He flipped his coat away from his side, giving him better access to the pistol that was tucked in his belt, but a cool voice broke the air even as he did.
"Don't even think about it, Harris." A woman's voice said stonily, in a tone that told him all he needed to know.
Whoever she was, she was a pro. That meant either the mob knew he was alive, unlikely, or the authorities had caught up to him.
Xander played the odds.
He didn't turn around, he just let the coat flop back and stared into the distance, "You can tell Fury that I'm not coming back."
"Giving you a choice wasn't in the briefing." The woman said, her voice softening slightly, perhaps in response to the grave site, or because he'd not gone for a weapon. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry."
"That and a buck will get me a cup of coffee, Lady." Xander said, slowly turning around to look at the speaker.
She was fairly tall, at least as tall as he was, and had short cropped hair. It was either black or maybe a dark red or brown, he couldn't tell given the light, and looked like she'd been running recently. Her face was fine cut, classic bone structure, but had a solid set that belied that apparently fragile foundation.
Even in his current state of mind Xander had to appreciate the rest of her as well, dressed in a black skinsuit that even the weapons and equipment draped off her didn't hide, she was a stunner by any definition. He felt his lip curl slightly to the right as he looked her over, but that was the extent of his reaction.
She nodded once after he spoke, and Xander's eyes shifted to watch the three men with her. They were all pros too, fanning out in a broad semi circle around him, making sure to stay several arms lengths away at all times as they pointed their guns at him.
"Be that as it may," The woman continued, as Xander noticed her faint accent and wondered at it's origin for a moment, "You're still coming with us."
"No." He repeated, "I am not."
Her face set as she took a few steps closer, "Don't be a fool, Harris. You aren't getting away from us. If we have to we'll knock you out and drag you back to the Helicarrier."
<Is that what they call it?> Xnader mused. He shrugged, it didn't matter anyway. Instead he just let himself smile slowly, "Actually I have another option."
"Oh?" She smiled slightly herself, "What would that be?"
"Fortunate happenstance." Xander replied.
"What?" She asked in puzzlement.
"Some of Sunnydale's wildlife could happen by and distract you." Xander smiled, his hand slipping almost invisibly into his pocket. "Thus giving me a chance to get away."
"What are you talking about?" The woman frowned, "This is a small town in california. There is no wildlife to speak of."
"Uh huh." Xander said, his hand suddenly blurring as it came out of his pocket and whipped out in an throw that cut the air toward the woman's position.
She flinched in surprise, but that was all the time she had as the slim bladed dagger flashed past her head so close she could feel the air of it's passage brush her ear. She brought her pistol up, even as Harris threw himself to one side, lining it up to a clean shot with the man who she believed had just tried to kill her, only to feel a chill run down her spin as she heard a gurgling scream from behind her.
She spun around, her pistol coming up to cover the target that should NEVER have been able to get that close behind her, and paled in shock.
"Bozshe!" She cursed and spat, "Vampire!"
Suddenly, around them, more figures melded out of the night. Only four of them total, and normally she would not be worried, but as well trained as her team was they were not ready to deal with these creatures. Not with the weapons they had on hand, at least.
Natasha Romanov fired two shots into the throat of the vampire, even as it clutched at the skull pommeled dagger sticking from it's right eye, then snapped orders to her people even as they were trying to get a clear shot at Harris.
"Watch your backs! Hostiles!"
Xander was in the air even as the dagger left his hand, his mind rebelling against what he had just done even as his body ran on autopilot.
The first shots erupted from the agent's guns, but their aim was off but the surprise of the maneuver, and the worst the shots did to Xander was send shards of granite into his face and throat. He skidded along the ground, coming to a halt behind a huge grave marker, and pulled the colt from his belt as he heard the woman scream her warning.
<She knows what they are.> He thought, rolling to put the guns of the agents more firmly on the other side of the marker. <Good. Maybe she'll be able to handle the vamp and I can duck out in the commotion.>
Xander risked popping his head up and groaned softly.
<Great.> He sighed, <Where the hell did those other vamps come from??>
Four more vamps had appeared from the darkness, and Xander could tell instantly that the agents may have been pros at whatever it was that they did, but that was more certainly NOT vampire hunting. Aside from the leader, the other agents had all aimed for classic center of mass shots that had little effect beyond pissing off the vamps in question.
Still, at least they weren't aiming at him any more, so Xander rose from behind the marker as he watched the leader of the agents disable her vampire with a double tap to it's throat, putting the creature down with a severed spine before turning away to help her teammates.
Xander turned his eyes to the three men in question and vaulted the headstone as he saw that they were already struggling in hand to hand wrestling with the vampires. He knew that he had some time, the vamps were hungry after all, but even given that the men only had seconds to live without major help.
Natasha Romanov growled in fury as she watched one of the filthy creatures lower it's teeth into the throat of Jose Mendaz, the look of shock on the young agent's face enough to galvanize her into action. She raised her right hand, fingers and palm arced slightly downward in a relaxed pose, and tensed the muscles of her arm in a particular manner.
There was a hiss of compressed gas, and a long line leapt out from the bracer she wore on her wrist, it's barbed tip digging deep into the vampire's back. It screamed in pain and shock, it's teeth coming off the agent's throat as the line tightened. Natasha braced herself against a handy gravestone as the line reeled back in, yanking the unbraced vampire off it's feet, and then she triggered the second stage of the attack.
There was a crackling sound and the smell of ozone as the line became a Tazer conductor, jerking the vampire around spastically as she pumped five hundred thousand volts through it. When it finally fell to the ground and didn't move except for the twitching, she triggered the release and pulled the line from it's body.
The line whipped back across the ground, reeling back into her bracer, but she was already moving to the fallen agent's side.
"Jose... stay with me, kid..." She hissed, holding his head up as she checked his throat. "Don't fall asleep..."
"C-c-cold... boss."
"I know..." She said softly, lowering his head as she saw the damage the vampire's teeth had done and knew the outcome had already been written. "I know."
A shouted order snapped her head up as the rest of the fight continued around her.
Xander sprinted across the graveyard, noting that the leader of the group had turned her attention to another vampire. He left her to it, deciding that she'd already shown herself capable of handling the things, and focused on the agent who had the misfortune of facing two of the infernal beasts.
He was about halfway there when a sudden crackling sound caused him to falter in his step as he looked aside to see what has happening.
<Damn.> He winced as the vampire screamed. <I'll have to watch out for that one. She's trouble with a capital T.>
He shook the thought aside and continued his run, planting his foot on a gravestone as he did, and leapt into the air, "Down! Get down!"
The words snapped out in an order, one that the agent could understand even though he didn't see who had given it. He went limp suddenly, dropping away from the two vampire's he was fighting, and Xander slammed into them feet first with his full weight.
The three of them hit the ground hard, bones snapping and cracking in the undead bodies as they came between the rock of the ground and the hard place of Xander's full weight. Their ribs splintered as Xander leaned forward and rolled clear of them, leaving both vampire's in pain behind him.
Xander spun as he came back to his feet, leading the way with his drawn Colt, and saw that despite the damage both vampires were both struggling back to their feet. He drew a bead on the closest, it's snarling bestial face turning to glare at him even as he squeezed the trigger.
The pistol bucked once, sending a .45 caliber slug roaring on it's way.
The vampire's face vanished as it's body was snapped back and laid flat out by the round Xander had placed between it's eyes. He steadied himself, feeling a twinge in his leg as he tried to put more weight on it, and shifted his aim to the second vampire as it snarled and charged him.
His pistol roared once in a clean miss, the vampire's lightning movement taking him by surprise, then a second time as he lowered the gun to catch the creature as it tried to finish it's charge. The round caught it in the chest, tunneling down through it's body, but had little effect beyond slowing the charge slightly.
Xander used the time to dip his gun hand, then snap it back up in a blow that crushed the vampire's nose with the spine of the heavy handgun. The pain and force deflected the charge, sending the vampire headfirst into the gravestone hard enough to crack the marble marker.
The sickening crack was enough to make Xander wince slightly, but he didn't stop. He kicked the vampire over and put another round through it's eye to ensure it was disabled, then turned back around.
Just in time to be caught by the charge of the vampire he'd thought was already down for the count.
He grunted in pain as his leg gave out under their combined weight, and hit the ground trying to roll with the impact. It worked to a point, allowing him to throw the snarling, maddened, vampire off of him, but he slammed his head into a stray rock and the world swam around him.
"What's that?"
Giles looked up, concerned. "Those were gunshots, Buffy."
"Gunshots? In Sunnydale??" Buffy didn't understand.
"I don't understand either, Buffy... but they seem to be coming from..."
"The graveyard." Buffy finished, eyes wide.
"Correct." Giles began to hasten his steps as his Slayer ran away from him. "Be careful!"
Natasha Romanov cursed as she snapped a kick to the closest Vampire's face, pivoting on her heel as she did, and completed the move with a reverse kick that staggered the demonic monster. It grunted in pain, but didn't slow for long, and soon she was pressed hard again as he backhanded her with a blow powerful enough to break a two by four.
Natasha rolled with the force, long experience making the move second nature, and used much of it's energy to propel her body into a spinning jump that snapped both her heels across the vampire's face in response.
She landed on one knee, her head snapping up to spot her target as it staggered back and snarled at her.
"Slayer!"
"Pardon?" She asked in confusion, but didn't wait for an answer.
Even as the thing searched for a response, she powered into the air and slammed a kick into it's throat that drove it back over a gravestone, toppling it to the ground.
Natasha took advantage of the brief lull to glance around.
"Just DIE!!" Xander snapped as he fired his two remaining rounds into the vampire's face.
The first one did much the same as the previous shot had, merely ricocheted off the demonic bone structure, bringing a flash of blood and pain to the maddened creature's eyes, but the second found it's left eye and tunneled through the soft tissue and thin bone to the brain inside.
The vampire dropped to the ground instantly, twitching slightly as neurons in it's skull misfired and tried to heal.
Xander slumped, feeling the pain in his leg scream as he had a moment to contemplate it, and looked around quickly.
<Three down... the lady has number four on the ropes... where's the last one?> His searching eyes found it almost a second too late and he sprinted into action, his teeth grinding against the pain in his leg.
Natasha's eyes widened as she saw Harris charge her position and began to bring up her weapon's in defense as he threw himself into the air straight at her. They collided solidly, then another jolt struck and sent them both spinning in mid air as they tumbled to the ground. On the ground, in the sudden confusing blur of motion, Natasha heard his breath hiss in sudden pain and saw the cause of it. A piece of broken gravestone had smashed into his shoulder.
A piece of rock that had been meant for her.
They came to a stop on the ground, his weight solidly on her for a moment as he groaned in pain, then he started to move. They both tried to get to their feet at once, resulting in both of them falling to the ground again as the twang of a crossbow and the eerie sound of a vampire dusting sounded behind them.
Xander looked over his shoulder from his position on top of the pretty agent, then flashed her a quick grin. "Cavalry's here. Be nice to the cute blond... I'd hate to have to come back and wring your lovely neck."
With that he scrambled off her and ran into the night.
Natasha rolled over, pushing herself to her feet, and looked after him for a moment, but only for a moment. Her team had to be taken care of first.
<But soon,> She promised herself. <Soon, Mr Harris.>
Buffy charged into the group, identifying the vampire that was standing by it's game face, leading the way with a snapping jump kick that sent it flying back onto it's ass. She quickly stepped over it, dropped to one knee, and planted her stake into the creature's chest.
Behind her she could hear Giles toss town the cross bow and draw his saber as he stepped into the center of the fight and look around for a target.
"Bugger all." The british man cursed softly.
"Giles?" Buffy rose to her feet, turning to look at him. "What is it?"
Giles' was standing over a body that was twitching. He grimaced, "This is a vampire... it looks like someone shot out it's eye."
"Ew." Buffy grimaced succinctly. "That's what I saw at Willy's earlier..."
Giles' nodded, the quickly dispatched the vampire with his saber. "I see. Check the others."
Buffy nodded, then moved through the group of mobile and non-mobile people with a swift grace. She quickly found another vampire on it's back, this one with a dagger in it's eye and it's throat torn out by something she didn't recognize. She grimaced, then swiftly staked the thing and moved on.
Those that were still alive and moving were grouped together around a body that Buffy didn't have to look at to know wasn't a vampire. She paused by them taking in what she could. They were all armed, but with modern weapons as opposed to something effective against vampires, and appeared to wear a similar sort of clothes. <Uniform?>
"I'm sorry." She said, referring to the body they were grouped around. "You should stay inside at night around here."
A woman looked up at her, her eyes serious and her face a mask. "Who are you?"
Buffy shrugged uncomfortably. "No one important. Look... Why were you guys here? I mean at this grave site...? I'm looking for someone... a guy, brown hair, brown eyes..."
The woman shrugged, "Sorry. Haven't seen anyone by that description."
"Right..." Buffy nodded slowly, stepping back from them. She considered pursuing it, but didn't think it would do any good. Finally she turned to Giles, "Let's go. He's not here."
Giles looked between the two, "Perhaps we should see them to their hotel, Buffy. They are obviously ill equipped to deal with Sunnydale at night."
Buffy scowled, not wanting to be distracted from her mission, but finally sighed and nodded. "Alright."
"That won't be necessary." The woman said, standing up.
As Buffy began to retort there was a roar of noise and motion above them and lights erupted from the sky. Buffy and Giles' fell back in shock as an advanced aircraft settled down in a clear space between graves and a paramedic unit rushed off it, quickly gathering up the wounded and dead while the others limped aboard.
"Who are you people!?" Buffy yelled as they boarded.
The woman looked back and smiled wickedly, little to no humor in her face. "No one important!"
Then she slapped a control and the ramp of the aircraft closed as the craft rose into the sky.
"Oh my." Giles muttered in surprise.
Buffy spun around and began to stalk off.
"Where are you going??" Giles turned and rushed after her.
"Willy's." Buffy ground out. "That little weasel is still holding out on me."
"Report."
"He evaded us, Sir." Natasha said, no hint of apology in her face. "Harris obviously knew more about the local situation then did we, and used it to his advantage."
"Explain." Fury snapped over the monitor.
"Apparently the town is overrun with Vampires, Colonel." She replied tersely. "We were ill equipped to handle them... We lost Jose, Sir."
Fury winced, but his frown remained. "I want a full report by morning."
"Yes Sir." She replied as the monitor flickered off.
"Vampires." Fury sighed, "That explains his injuries... and why he's so damned tough for a kid."
"I'd say so." Sharon Carter nodded.
"Who's in the area?" Fury asked after a moment.
"Depends. How serious to you believe the situation to be?" Carter asked.
Fury sighed, considering. "I want a recon team to determine that."
Carter lifted a PDA and tapped out a command. A second later a list of names scrolled down the screen. "The most experienced in that department would be Whistler's team, or Stephen. They're both in New York at the moment, however."
"Nothing closer?"
"There's that lunatic in Texas... but he's a little public for your taste." Carter went on, "Short of that? Just independents and rogue groups."
Fury sighed, "Contact Stephen... Tell him I want a favor."
"Very well."
"Be fifty bucks."
Xander nodded and shelled out fifty dollars from his dwindling cash reserves, then took the key he was offered.
"You ok, man?" The guy behind the counter asked.
"Been better." Xander grunted out. "You got a first aid kit here?"
The guy nodded and reached under the counter. He pulled a large kit out, "Round these parts it don't pay not to... twenty bucks."
Xander grimaced, but tossed another twenty on the desk, then took the kit and his room key.
He left the office and quickly let himself into the room he'd paid for, not letting the pain he was feeling reach his face until the door closed. Then he groaned, slumping against a small desk that was set up against a large mirror. He slowly shed his coat, then peeled away the grimy guard's uniform to expose his shoulder.
The skin was mottled red and blue, as well as rusty from dried blood, and he could see an angry gash from the jagged granite he'd inadvertently caught. Xander grimaced, then went into the bathroom. He hissed through the pain as he cleaned off the wound, then splashed his back with a disinfectant. Finally he awkwardly wrapped a gauze bandage around it, looping it over his shoulder while he held the end in place under his arm.
The finished job wasn't pretty, but it would do he decided, as he taped it off as tightly as he could manage.
That done, Xander made his way back into the main room, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder and leg, and lowered himself slowly to the bed. His empty pistol was in his hand as he finally drifted off to sleep, Xander drawing a certain comfort from it even through he knew that few things were quite as useless as an unloaded gun.
"Willy!!"
Willy the Weasel heard that scream and immediately ducked out the back way, not even bothering to worry about who would tend his bar. As he did he growled, "I wish those two would stop laughing when this happens..."
He rushed through the door to the back alley, closing and locking it behind him, then turned to run only to find himself face to face with a rather tall and angry man.
"Oh hell." He moaned, "Not you too."
"Oh yes, me, you little git." Rupert Giles snarled. "What have you been telling Buffy??"
"Just the truth!" He whined in response, backing away from Giles.
Willy suddenly jumped in shock and fear as a horrible wrenching scream sounded behind him. When he turned he saw the Slayer there, holding the door handle, complete with lock, in her hand as she tapped her foot against the ground.
"Oh come on, Slayer! That lock is expensive!" He whined again.
"Next time be a gentleman and open the door for a lady." She suggested sarcastically. "Talk to us, Willy. What did Xander want with you?"
Willy backed away from the two of them until they had him against the wall, "Look... he just came looking for information! That's it! I swear."
"What information, Willy." Giles growled.
Willy swallowed, "He wanted to know where to find Cal the Cap."
"Who or what is a cal the cap?" Buffy asked, confused.
"He's the guy that did the job on the kids parents and the Rosenberg girl." Willy whimpered.
Buffy swallowed, a rage building up in her. "Where is he, Willy. You better tell me right NOW, or I'm going to rip your limbs off...!"
"I don't know where Harris went!!"
"Not Xander!" Buffy growled, "Cal the Cap. Where. Is. HE?"
"No one knows for sure!!" Willy held up his hands in defense as Buffy lurched towards him. "But the rumors say that he's probably in LA!"
"Did you tell Xander this??" Giles demanded.
Willy nodded.
"Bloody hell." Giles muttered angrily.
"We have to find him, Giles."
"LA is a big place. I don't know how we'll find Xander..."
"I do." Buffy said grimly. "We find 'Cal the Cap'. If we're fast, we may be able to beat Xander to him..."
"And then what?"
Buffy shot her watcher a dark look, but didn't answer the question. Instead she just strode off, leaving him and Willy alone in the Alley.
Giles looked back to the weasely bartender, the waved him off as if he were nothing. "Go back to your bar, Willy. Before someone robs you blind."
Then he too vanished into the night.
By midday the next day, Xander found himself in LA, aches and pains along for the ride. One look at the city from it's inner depths told him that he was way out of his depth. There was simply no possible way he was going to find the bastard who pulled the trigger on Willow and his parents, at least not as easily as he'd hoped in Sunnydale.
He was going to have start at the bottom and work his way up.
And that was going to get real dirty, real fast.
He hardened himself, then made his way into a small gunshop he'd located. After waking in the morning, Xander had washed up and cleaned his hair so he looked more or less presentable, the big problem with getting anything was going to be his considerable lack of anything resembling ID.
That's why he chose this place, a small hole in the wall shop that had been frequented by people who looked a great deal less respectable them himself at them moment. Worse case scenario, Xander wasn't feeling above crossing a couple lines to get what he needed, but he didn't think that was going to necessary this time.
The clerk reminded him of Willy actually, watching him through semi-lidded eyes with a shifty gaze that almost made him laugh out loud as he browsed. Xander picked up a box of .45 caliber shells and dropped them on the counter.
"That is?"
"You got any clips for a 1911 Govt Model Colt?" Xander asked.
"Sure." The man said, sounding bored.
"Give me three."
The clerk went back into his stock and dropped the three clips on the counter. "That it?"
Xander nodded, "Yeah. That's it."
The clerk rang it up, then gave Xander the price. "That'll be a hundred n seventy nine, after tax."
Xander dropped the money on the counter, the last of his money, save for enough to get himself a half decent meal later in the day.
The clerk took the money without asking for id, shoveling it into his register, and then slid Xander's purchases into a paper bag. That done, he slid it across to Xander and Xander walked out.
"Why do you have to go to LA??" Joyce asked for the fifth time as she watched Buffy pack.
"Mom... it's a long story, ok?"
"No. It's not ok!" Joyce snapped, finally having enough. "You are NOT leaving this house until you tell me what's going on, Young Lady!"
"Mom!" Buffy tried.
"No. This is your mother speaking, and you haven't moved out yet!" Joyce stood firm, "I suggest you start talking."
Buffy growled. Buffy whined. Buffy pouted.
And when none of those worked, Buffy talked.
When she was done, Joyce stared at her in shock. "Xander... Xander's alive?"
"Maybe." Buffy took a deep breath. "Maybe. That's all we know."
"Why is he in LA?"
"He's looking for the guy who killed Willow and his family, Mom." Buffy explained slowly, feeling a familiar sorrow and rage growing in her just by mentioning it.
Joyce nodded slowly. "Right..."
Buffy watched her moth stand there for a moment, then suddenly Joyce came to a decision and headed for her room.
"Mom?? What are you doing?"
"Packing!" Came back the answer.
"Where now, Sir?"
Colonel Nick Fury sighed. He couldn't believe that one goddamn kid was taking up this much of his time. He'd handled Hydra situations that were less tenacious. "Where does our latest intel put Cal the Cap?"
"LA, Sir." Natasha replied without hesitation. She'd read up on the brief thoroughly the night before.
Fury nodded, "We'll assume that he can find that out as well. Get a team into LA... Locate Cal..."
"Then what Sir?"
"Sit on him until the kid shows up." Fury said, bitter distaste in his mouth as he did.
"Yes Sir." Natasha said, stepping back and leaving the room.
Fury growled, hitting a button on his desk.
"Yes Sir?" A voice echoed up from it.
"Get me Director Gordon on the line." He snapped, "Tell him I want to know why the hell the FBI hasn't taken Calvin Capperelli into custody yet!"
"Yes Sir."
It was nightfall before Xander stepped out of his cheap hotel room again, this time buoyed by a half dozen extra strength aspirin. He paused by the curb side and looked around slowly. He didn't know LA well, but he'd spent a little while earlier chatting with a friendly clerk about what parts of town to avoid. That in mind, he turned and headed straight for the worst part of town the clerk had mentioned.
Cal the Cap wouldn't be anywhere near there, chances were that no one there would have the slightest clue where to find him actually, but Xander was laying odds that he'd find his first stray thread there.
All he had to do was pull.
Finding a criminal was insanely easy.
Xander watched the man in question from across the street. His quarry had staked out a doorway of a dilapidated old tenement and was approached by a fairly steady stream of customers. Xander had made a walk by earlier and saw the money change hands for a small bag of white powder and had a decent idea of what the guy was selling.
So he sat back and waited, watching as the stream of customers grew a little less as the time rolled by until finally the man seemed to decide that was it for the night and packed up his stash and started to walk down the stairs.
Xander crossed the road then, jaywalking toward the man and waving as the figure looked up at him.
The wave put him off his guard and the man smiled, "Hey man, how much ya need?"
Xander smiled back, his hand fisting the big .45 as it swung free of his pocket and leveled on the man's face.
The smile dropped from his quarry's face, "Are you nuts man? No one hits me. No one."
"Play this right and I won't be the first." Xander said calmly. "I'm not interested in you. Not now."
"What do you want man?" The guy asked, his eyes flicking to the right slightly.
Xander caught the motion and pivoted just as a figure with a Mac-10 appeared from behind the building. He didn't give the guy a chance to fire, his body reacting on automatic as he squeezed off a shot. The .45 roared once, the heavy round slamming into the thug's shoulder hard enough to slam him back off his feet.
As the man yelled in pain, crawling along the ground, Xander shifted back before his primary target could move more then a few inches. "Ah ah! Don't fucking move."
The man froze, paling. "W... who are you man?"
"Death." Xander replied, grabbing the man by the coat and pulling him forward. He slammed the man over the hood of a nearby car, putting the muzzle of the .45 to his head. "I need some information. You're going to help me out. Or you're going to be heading to the morgue while your pal visits ER. Got it?"
"Yeah! Yeah!" The guy grunted, "I got it! What do you need?"
"Cal the Cap." Xander hissed.
"Never heard of him, man!"
Xander struck him once with the barrel of the pistol. "Wrong answer!"
"Ow! Shit, man! I swear! I swear!"
"Fine." Xander seethed. "Where do you get your product from?"
"What??" The man asked in confusion.
Xander rapped him again.
"Ow! Shit, ok, man! The Columbians!"
"Fuck." Xander said in disgust. "Fine. The Mob. Eastern Families. Who deals with them in town?"
The man on the car shivered, "Look man... I don't know what you're into, but this is suici... Ow!"
"Just answer me," Xander snapped, pulling the pistol back from where he'd rapped him again.
"Alright! Alright! The families run a lot of rackets in town... they've got girls, bookies, money lending... shit like that!"
"Names. Locations. NOW." Xander growled, flipping the guy over as he drove the barrel of the gun up under the man's jaw.
The man talked. And talked. His information was sketchy, mostly rumors and worthless crap, but it was better then Xander had before, so Xander took it and memorized it all as best he could. When the man was done, Xander stripped him of cash, then dumped the rest of his coke into the street before backhanding him once with the pistol and sending him to the ground, unconscious.
When he walked over to the man he'd shot, Xander saw that the man was still groaning in pain and trying very hard not to move. He dropped to a knee beside him, plucking the Mac10 from the ground next to him. "You need a doctor."
"Fuck you, man."
Xander shrugged as he patted him down and recovered two more clips for the Mac10 along with a little more cash to add to his collection. "Whatever you say. This neighborhood, you'll be lucky if someone calls the cops..."
The man cursed at him again and Xander just got up and walked away, the leather duster swishing as he turned.
"Good luck." He said over his shoulder to the injured man.
The man let loose a string of curses behind him, but Xander ignored them all as he walked into the night. <Once upon a time,> he thought to himself, <I probably would have felt bad about that.>
Xander shrugged again, pulling the coat around him as he felt that familiar chill deep inside himself, and wondered what he had really lost. Was it a level of morality, or was it simply some of his naivete?
And did it really matter?
The next day found Xander standing outside another hole in the wall gun shop, almost five grand burning a hole in his pocket. He went in calmly, wandering the aisles as he waited for the customers to filter out. When they were gone he plucked up a tactical concealment vest designed by the Second Chance company and dropped it on the counter. The heavy ceramic trauma plates clunked against the clear plexi as he did.
"That's an expensive vest, kid." The guy behind the counter smiled at him.
Xander decided that he liked the old guy and just shrugged, "I got the money."
"Alright. It'll set you back three grand though."
Xander nodded and flipped out the money, mostly in twenties and fifties, onto the counter. The man raised an eyebrow, but counted them out a second time, checking a few of them to see if they were counterfeit, then finally nodded.
"It's yours kid."
"Thanks." Xander said in a flat voice as he pulled the heavy black vest off the counter.
"No problem. Don't sell too many of those... Mostly just cops want that kind of protection." The man said conversationally, "You a cop?"
"No." Xander said, then walked out before the man could say anything else.
Outside he eyed his next target, an alleged Mafia money lender set up behind a legitimate banking front. His first problem was going to be confirming the intel he'd gotten the night before. Unfortunately he was on too tight a schedule to do it neatly, that left him with two choices. Neither of which were exactly something he'd fall in love with either, but since one of them involved risking the lives of innocent people and the other only involved risking his own.
Well, he'd done the math and really there was only one choice.
"Report."
"Colonel," Natasha nodded her head on the screen. "We're in LA and have located Mr Caperelli. We've taken up surveillance positions..."
"Good." Fury said calmly.
Too calmly perhaps.
"Sir..." Natasha spoke uncharacteristically hesitantly for her. "Some of the team are wondering why we don't just grab him. It would solve our problem... and we could probably talk Harris in after that."
"We aren't cleared to operate in domestic operations that aren't specifically within our anti-terrorist guidelines, Miss Romanov." Fury grated out, giving her the same company line he'd been fed not twelve hours earlier. "Mr Caperelli is the FBI's problem."
"With all due respect, Sir, where the hell are they?" Natasha growled out. "Because I guarantee you that they are NOT here."
"That's not your concern." Fury snapped, his own anger with the situation coming out. "Just bring Mr Harris back into protective custody."
Natasha took a breath, "Yes Sir. Widow, out."
The screen went black and Fury closed his eye, "Damn it."
"Giles... why are we hear?" Buffy asked looking up at the old building they had stopped in front of.
Giles hesitated, looking guilty. "To find someone who may be able to help."
Along with Joyce they climbed the stairs and tested the door.
It was open.
"Eh." Joyce grimaced, running a finger along a wall. "Post modern grunge."
"Very ew." Buffy added.
"I wasn't expecting visitors." A voice came from a doorway. "Explain yourself Giles."
"Angel!" Buffy spun around, blinking. "Y... you're Giles' contact??"
"I didn't want to..." Giles shrugged, sighing. "Angel... we need your help."
Angel shook his head, "I told you to keep my location a secret Giles."
"Are you hiding from me too?" Buffy asked softly.
"I'm protecting you." Angel said instantly, then frowned, "Wait... what do you mean, 'too'?"
"Xander is back." Giles said calmly.
"Xander's dead..." Angel hesitated, "Isn't he?"
"We thought so," Giles sighed, "But he turned up in Sunnydale the day before yesterday according to Willy..."
"Willy." Angel repeated flatly, "For god sakes, Giles, I hope you aren't putting your trust in *that*."
"Not entirely." Giles replied, "There was also an altercation that night over Willow's grave."
Angel paused, then nodded slowly as he considered it. "What happened?"
"Willy said that it was a mob hit," Buffy said in a rush. "He said that Xander's dad was in the witness protection program, and that the mob found him..."
Angel cursed suddenly, "So they took out his family and Willow too just for being there?"
Buffy nodded.
Angel paced quickly, growing more agitated as he did. "Damn it. Why are you here? Why bring me into this??"
"Willy said that the man who killed Xander's family is in LA." Giles said, "He told Xander the same thing."
Angel stopped in his tracks, "Give me a name."
"And you understand the agreement?"
Xander nodded. He understood. Fifty percent interest for making the loan, with an accrued fifty percent per month that it was outstanding. The vaguely veiled threats about injuries and accident 'insurance' was enough to tell him that he'd found exactly what was supposed to be here. The only thing that remained was to see if the people here had the information he wanted.
This was the third such 'institution' he had visited so far in the past eight hours. The first two had been just as crooked, but hadn't shown the slightest recognition when he laid the bait out for them. If Willy had been telling the truth, the real 'wise guys' shouldn't be able to resist it.
"Alright, but before I can authorize a note of this magnitude I need some identification, Mr...?" The man led on, smiling.
Xander smiled right back as he glanced around the small room on the second floor, above the legitimate banking institution. When he spoke, it was loud enough for the man, and the two armed guards to hear him.
"Agata. Alexander Agata."
<Bingo.> Xander thought, his eyes gleaming as the man stiffened in surprise.
"Ah... Agata... Would you be related to..."
"Anthony Agata was my father." Xander smile turned cold as he watched the man pale in a cold shock.
Behind him he could hear the guards moving toward him, a brush of something against leather as they drew their pistols.
Xander was ahead of them, the stolen Mac-10 rising from under his jacket and roaring as it poured lead into the ceiling above their heads. Both men flinched down as the business end of the forty five rose to stare them in the face. "Drop the pistols."
Both men hesitated.
"Do it." Xander's eyes flashed, "I'm not here for you."
The two guards hesitated, dropping their pieces to the floor after exchanging hopeless glances. Xander shifted the Mac-10 to cover them, then moved the .45 back to the man behind the desk.
The clerk paled snow white, holding his hands up, "I don't know what you've been told but I didn't have anything to do with what happened to your family..."
"No shit." Xander snapped. "First, open the safe and get all the money out. Put it in the duffel bag."
The man hesitated, but when Xander thumbed back the hammer on the colt he paled even further and nodded. While he was doing that, Xander turned halfway back to the two guards and nodded, "Kick the pistols over here."
They growled, but did so, sending the two pistols sliding to where Xander stopped them with his feet. Xander looked them both over, "Alright. Answer me a question, and I'll let you walk out of here. Don't answer, and someone will be carrying you. Got it?"
The men looked at each other, a hint of fear in their eyes, then back to Xander. One of them spoke up, "What question?"
"You know Cal the Cap?" Xander asked.
"If we do?"
"I want to know where to find him." Xander replied coldly as the muzzle of the Mac-10 slid from one to the other.
The men licked their lips, hesitating, but the wisp of smoke that was still drifting lazily upwards from the Mac-10 apparently decided it for one of them. "We don't know where he is... but we might know how to find him."
Xander nodded slowly, his eyes checking on the man who was tossing bundles of money into a bag. "Fine. Tell me that, and I'll walk out of here without going with my first impulse... Which is to splatter your guts over the hideous paint in this place... Frankly, it'd be an improvement."
Both men swallowed and exchanged glances again. Finally they nodded and the other one spoke.
"The Cap has been living large... it's becoming something of a legend around town you see... that's how come we know about it..." The man said, almost apologetically. "We didn't have nothin to do with the contract on yer folks you know and..."
"Get on with it." Xander said coldly.
"Right..." The man swallowed. "Well he's been hitting all the biggest clubs... you know, the ones that you need an invite just to stand in line... less'n you're a movie star or something... Anyway, he's been there all the time on the family connections and the reward money he got for offin Agata... Uh... I mean your dad."
"Go on." Xander growled, feeling the anger rise in him.
The guy apparently felt it too cause he moved on real fast. "Well he's also been calling for 'escorts' from a couple really high end services... And visiting one of the Family whore houses up in the hills."
Xander nodded, he'd already heard as much. "I need names and addresses."
The two men exchanged glances and hesitated. "We can't tell you that... They'll kill us for sure... The family we mean..."
"I'll kill you NOW." Xander snapped, his finger whitening as it tightened on the trigger. "All three of you!"
"For god sakes TELL HIM!" The man behind the desk screamed as he eyed the big muzzle of the .45, "I ain't telling the family what you said, and you aren't gonna!! And nobody would believe HIM anyway!
The two men nodded, "Miss Silvia's... Up in the hills."
"Address." Xander snapped.
When they gave it to him he nodded, then turned back to the man behind the desk. "All the cash in there?"
"Yes sir."
"Alright," Xander smiled slowly, darkly. "I want you to give your bosses a little message for me. Tell them that Agata's son is back from the dead... and he's looking to arrange a little company for himself in hell. Capiche?"
"Yeah." The men paled.
"Good." Xander smiled, "Now... where do you keep your records?"
"Sir! We've got a hit on the LA police band."
Fury strode over, cigar clamped in his teeth. "What is it?"
"Someone just torched one of the mob loan shark establishments." The technician said, handing the report over. "No one injured at the scene, but the damn fire is burning so hot that the firefighters are having a lot of trouble getting it under control..."
"Witnesses?"
"A few civilians report someone matching Mr Harris' description leaving with a gun in one hand and a duffle bag in the other..."
Fury snarled, his lips pulling back over his teeth. "Fuck! If that kid is looking to stir up a wasps nest, he sure as shit knows how to do it."
"Yes Sir." The technician agreed.
"Still... Doesn't make any sense. Why hit a loan shark operation?" Fury pondered, "Were they connected with The Cap in anyway?"
"No Sir."
Fury shook his head, "It sounds like he's just shaking the tree to see what falls out... Jesus, this damn kid is just like his father. Apprize Natasha of the situation... tell her that the kid is upping the ante on this game. The Mob is going to be sitting in on the game officially from now on."
"Yes Sir."
Fury walked off, still shaking his head. "This game just went from nickels and dimes to high stakes in the blink of an eye. I hope you have the cash to stay in the game, kid. Cause you only lose once in this kind of game."
He had to keep pressing. Xander knew that, he couldn't slow down now, or the people he needed to find would go to ground and he'd lose them. That meant moving on to Miss Silvia's without taking time to prepare a solid plan.
It meant playing the game by ear and hoping he didn't crap out in the process.
Xander shrugged and accepted the consequences. He'd known that it would come down to this, eventually. At least he still had a slim advantage, since those three thugs he'd left behind wouldn't be in a hurry to tell anyone where he'd hit next. Not if they didn't want to expose their own infidelity to the Family.
Of course, they could have been lying to set him up.
But that too was a consequence that Xander had accepted as part and parcel of the game.
<So be it,> He thought fatalistically. One more stop, one more battle in the new war. If that was where it ended, then that was where he ended.
He had stolen the car that belonged to the man behind the desk back at the loan shark operation and was already in sight of the address he'd been given. He figured it was legit, the men hadn't sounded like they were lying at the time, but he had to be sure so he'd ditched the car a quarter mile back and approached the classic white mansion on foot.
It was well protected, Xander could tell that from a single look at the outside. He didn't see any guards though, so they'd be inside the wall. Maybe even inside the house. It was a brothel, so Xander didn't figure it for a hard target.
Which didn't mean that it was going to go down easily.
There were going to be civilians inside, guilty of whatever crimes they were, they weren't Xander's problem. The girls also would be another complicating factor, one that he couldn't avoid because it would be them that had the information he needed.
That all added up to an application of stealth over force, he decided. With some luck he might be able to finesse this one.
And if not, Xander shrugged, he'd packed a few party favors in the black duffel bag he was carrying.
"Are you sure this is where Angel told us to meet him?"
"Yes I'm quite sure, Buffy."
"Well... where is he?" Joyce asked tiredly.
"I'm right here."
The three of them jumped in shock as the dark figure appeared from the shadows of the alley.
"Don't DO that!" Joyce gasped, holding her chest.
"Sorry." Angel shrugged slightly, "It sort of goes with the whole vampire deal."
"Do you have anything?" Giles broke in.
"Maybe." Angel said heavily. "The one Willy put you guys onto is in town... and the word on the street is that he pulled off a big hit in Sunnydale just over a month ago."
"Then Willy was telling the truth." Buffy's eyes gleamed.
"So it appears." Angel frowned.
"What is it?" Joyce asked softly, reading the look on his face.
"The man of the person that Cal was supposed to hit..." Angel said softly. "I recognize it. Anthony Agata was an undercover cop working for the Justice Department twenty years ago. He took down almost a hundred of the biggest mob figures of the day, outright killing three families and crippling four others. It was the biggest coup against organized crime since Eliot Ness took down Capone."
"So? That fits with Willy's story..."
"Joyce," Angel turned to the elder Summers, ignoring Buffy. "I think that you need to take Buffy and go back to Sunnydale."
"What!?" Buffy yelled, "I'm NOT leaving!"
"Buffy..."
"No Mom! I'm not going anywhere!"
Angel growled, turning on her. "Don't you get it! These people will stop at NOTHING to get Xander. He's Agata's SON. As soon as they realize that he survived, they WILL kill him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow... but he WILL die. They stalked his father for *twenty*years, Buffy."
"I don't care!" She shouted back, throwing her hands up. "I'm not abandoning him, Angel!"
"I'm not telling you to." Angel snapped. "I'll find him, try to help him... but for God Sakes, you and Joyce have to get out of LA. Now."
"Why should I leave!?"
"Because they'll kill you and your mother if they get the slightest hint that you're connected with Xander." Angel said in a suddenly calm voice. "Buffy, these people will not stop at killing you. They will go after your family."
Buffy fell back in shock and looked over to her mother in a silent plea.
Joyce bit her lip, shaking slightly as she took in what Angel had just laid out. After a long moment she took a breath, "We're not leaving, Angel."
The Ensouled Vampire sighed, closing his eyes. "Buffy... please."
"Just tell us where to find the man Xander is looking for." Buffy said calmly, resolutely.
The wall was easy to scale, the owners had let the trees overgrow it and Xander quickly find a branch that let him drop into the well manicured yard.
His eyes roved the grounds as he moved toward the house. So far he'd found three cameras, but they covered only the common points of ingress and he wasn't using any of those. The rest of the grounds seemed free from such security.
Which meant, of course, that they had another kind.
The first hint he had of trouble was a whisper of wind behind him, but it was enough. Xander dropped flat to the ground as the rottweiler flew over him and landed nimbly just ahead. He got to his knees as the dog spun around in a lightning quick move and leapt at him again.
This time he was ready, swinging the heavy duffel bag around and clubbing the dog in mid-leap, knocking it aside. Now it snarled, making the first intentional noise of the fight, but it didn't stop it's attacks.
Xander dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled a small paper pouch from it and whipping the pouch at the dog hard. The paper struck the rottweiler on the snout as it leapt, exploding in a cloud of pepper and chemicals that struck the animal in the eyes and nose.
The dog hit the ground yipping softly as it rubbed it's snout along the ground, trying to wipe the mixture from it's nose and eyes.
Xander spared the dog a moment of sympathy, then turned back to the house. He figured that, with a little luck, the sprinklers would turn on soon. That would help the poor animal somewhat at least.
Alicia Dover sighed as she let herself into her private study, welcoming the brief respite from the trials of handling a 'house of ill repute'. Most of the clients were civil enough, but often enough she had trouble from those that felt they were owed something by her or the girls. She fumbled for the light, jumping in surprise when it came on without her help and she saw a man in black holding a pistol in her direction.
"Sit." He told her.
Alicia sat. Men with guns were nothing new to her, unfortunately, and she knew when one of them was serious and one wasn't. This one was.
"Calvin Capperelli." He said calmly.
Alicia shivered. That one would be one of those who felt she owed him something. "What about him?"
"Is he here?"
"No." She said softly.
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"Wrong answer."
Alicia swallowed at the cold tone, a sound that didn't seem natural to the voice she was hearing. "It's the only one I have."
The man watched her for a moment, his face inscrutable. Then he stepped back and glanced around the room. "Nice place. I guess it pays well."
Alicia reddened, feeling a familiar anger rise in her. "Listen, I do what I have to. If you don't like it, then get the hell out."
The man chuckled softly, appreciatively, then shook his head. "Tell me how to find Capperelli. Then I'm gone."
"Who are you!?"
"My name is Agata." The man said calmly, smiling as she paled. "I see you know it."
"You... you're supposed to be..."
"Dead? Been there. I'm better now." He said calmly, toying with a trinket on her desk. "Capperelli."
"I don't know where he is." She said again.
"But you know how to find him, right? He comes here a lot... you probably send girls to him."
She swallowed, eyeing the big pistol in his hand as it stayed on her. Finally she nodded and whispered, "Yes."
"Then tell me."
The man in the tailored suit grabbed the phone on the third ring. "Yeah? You found them? About fucking time. What the hell happened at the bank??"
There was a brief pause, then he stiffened. "What? You've got to be shitting me!"
Another pause, "Bring them here. NOW."
Then the man hung up the phone. He hit a button, and a moment later a man appeared in his office.
"Yes Sir?"
"Where's The Cap?"
"I'm not sure... Probably out boozing again."
"Find him. NOW."
The man swallowed, "Yes Sir."
Cutting to the head of the line was as easy as slipping the bouncer a cool grand of previously owned money, the rest was up to Xander. He fit in fairly well with the rest of the mob that were moving to the ear shattering beat inside, his black leather hiding the assault vest he wore concealed underneath. Interestingly enough, for him at least, he was far from the only person wearing ludicrously heavy clothes.
The dark look was in.
Lucky him.
The Mac10 and the Colt were both reloaded and riding inside his coat as he swept through the crowd, ignoring the men and women around him as he moved toward the part of the club that mattered.
<In the back,> Xander heard Alicia Dover say, <There is a private room reserved for those in the Industry... and those who have the connections to play in their sandbox. Calvin has been playing in this particular sandbox every week for a month. Tonight he called for three of my girls to join him...>
Xander easily picked out the private room, it was protected by a one way mirror that overlooked the rest of the club, but he could catch flashes of motion through it whenever a light struck the glass from the other side.
He shifted direction to the door that was guarded by two heavy set gentlemen, thinking about what else the hollywood 'madame' had to say before he left.
<I'm telling you this, as much because I rather dislike Mr Caperelli as for any other reason...> She told him, her voice reminding him of Joyce when she was on a mother's rampage. <But if my girls should come to harm... I will find you, and kill you.>
What had made Xander smile then was that he had no doubt whatsoever that she entirely meant it.
He pushed those thoughts from his mind as he approached the door and two heavyset gentlemen caught sight of him.
"Station two, report."
"This is station two. Nothing yet."
The voice sound bored, which bothered Natasha. Boredom and stakeouts were siblings to be sure, and went together everywhere, but like all siblings they always turned on each other. And when that happened, the agents caught between them were in a bad position.
There wasn't a lot she could do about it though, except bring it up again during the next refresher course and hope that none of her team were killed by the siblings.
"Station three?"
"Three. Nothing here."
"Alright, all stations.. Stay alert. I know that it's hard to keep watch without a timetable, but that doesn't mean you can relax." She said, a gentle reminder to her team.
That done the Black Widow looked back to the bustling club and tried to pick out a face in the morass of youth and activity that surrounded her.
<I hope he doesn't make a move here.> She thought to herself. <The potential for disaster is too great.>
"Are you sure that he here!?" Buffy screamed over the roar of the crowd.
Angel nodded silently, looking around slowly as he tried to locate Xander in the mix. There was too much motion, too many heartbeats thundering in his ears, to say nothing of the music. He finally gave it up and turned his attention back to the others.
Behind him, Giles and Joyce looked distinctly out of place in the crowd of youth that surrounded them, but at least he'd managed to get Giles to ditch the tweed jacket. Without it, his white shirt looked like something a mildly stylish renegade might wear. In fact, Angel had to admit, Giles' actually looked enough like an Industry professional that once Joyce had grabbed his glasses off his face, the older man actually found himself turning away several of the younger patrons. Both women and men.
Angel spared a slight smile as he noticed that Giles had taken to staying close by Joyce' side to deflect any interested parties in advance.
Cordelia Chase looked around for her 'date', a young man who her Agent had promised would introduce her to someone who might be able to help her get her career started. He'd said he had to meet someone and then vanished shortly thereafter.
The aspiring actress had already managed to gather a few auditions for commercials and the such, but had yet to land a role and was getting a little edgy about the whole subject. She'd thought it would be much easier then it was, and had found herself dodging the amorous attentions of increasingly older and more lecherous men since she'd arrived in L.A.
Cordelia Chase was a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them. She'd promised herself that before starting this, and reaffirmed that promise from the first geezer that tried to squeeze her for more then she was willing to offer.
"Hey!"
Cordy turned in surprise, finding her 'date' there. She smiled at him, "Hey!"
The guy nodded to the private section of the club, "He's in there. You ready?"
"For what?" Cordy asked, suspicions rising before she could catch them. She forced them down, as she had before, then shook her head. "I mean, yeah! Of course!"
"Good! Come on!"
"Where do you think you're going, Pal?" The heavy set man growled, his voice low, but Xander could still hear him over the music.
Xander just smiled, holding his hands up. "Hey guys, look is Calvin Capperelli in there?"
The man scowled at him, "Don't know who you mean."
"Sure." Xander grinned, "Look, just give him a message for me. Tell him that Tony Harris made an appointment with him, and that he's going to keep it. Got that?"
The bouncer looked confused, but nodded.
"Thanks. Then just let him know that Harris' secretary will be waiting for him." Xander replied, turning around to leave.
"Wait!" The bouncer called after him, "Where will this secretary be waiting??"
Xander looked back and smiled, "Oh, I'll be around. You tell him that too."
Then Xander vanished back into the crowd.
The phone rang as Calvin 'The Cap' Caperelli lounged back in the felt lined divan with his guests of the evening. Three of them, to be precise, in various states of undress were giggling and playfully tugging at what few clothes he was still wearing.
He growled, his arm flashing out for the phone in aggravation until he grabbed it. "What!?"
He suddenly stiffened in his seat, sitting up and pushing th girls away. "Sorry Sir... I was just... No... I..."
He suddenly paled, a deathly white that brought out the ugly stark contrast of the long scar on his cheek and the newly healed puckers where he'd had shot removed.
"That's not friggin possible, Boss! I took care of them all! I know I did. Nobody lives after that!"
The next words were screamed over the phone loud enough for the girls to flinch back, even though they couldn't make out any words.
"Yes Boss... I swear! I'll find him and take care of it." The Cap promised, nodding into the phone. He didn't get a chance to finish before the phone went dead with an audible click.
He just stared at it for a long moment, until a polite knock on the door disturbed him.
"What!?" He screamed, spittle flying from his mouth.
One of the big private guards opened the door and stepped in. "'Scuse me, Sir... but a guy was just outside, and he left a message for you."
"Message? What kind of message?" The Cap asked, frowning, not really paying attention.
"He said that someone named Tony Harris had made an appointment with you... one that you were going to keep..." The guard looked confused, "He said that Harris' secretary would be waiting for you."
The Cap paled even more, his scars standing out blood red against his white skin. "Where?"
"Around..." The guard shrugged, "He just said, around."
Cal the Cap screamed incoherently and slammed past the bouncer, throwing open the door and stepping out into the club, his shirt open and his belt unbuckled as he stared around the club with wild eyes.
Xander pushed through the crown, not looking back. There was an off chance that The Cap would remember his face, so he kept his face front despite the tingles of paranoia that urged him to check his flanks.
About halfway through the crowd he ran into a woman, almost knocking her over, but didn't bend to help her as he normally would have. He was too intent on getting clear, at least at first.
"Rude Much!?" Her voice cut like crystal through the racket around him and Xander snapped his head back in surprise to find Cordelia Chase glaring at him.
<Fuck!> He cursed mentally, spinning back without pausing further and he began to move through the crowd more quickly.
Cordelia Chase almost had a heart attack when she saw the face under the long, unkept hair. It wasn't possible.
Or, rather, it was possible but she didn't want to believe it.
Xander was dead. She'd been to his funeral herself. The only way he could be back...
<No!> She shook her head, trying to clear it of the conflicting thoughts. <I have to know.>
She started through the crowd herself, lifting her hand to catch his attention. "Xan...!"
A hand on her shoulder spun her back, "Where do you think you're going? You've got a meeting, remember?"
She looked back to the private room, then toward the door, hesitating.
<Career... Xander... Career... Xander... Career... Xan... Damn you, Xander.> She growled shaking herself free. "I have to see someone! I'll be right back!"
With that she pushed off through the crowd, yelling. "Xander! Xander! Wait up a minute, Dweeb Boy!"
"I say, is that Cordelia?" Giles frowned, squinting at the crowd.
"What!?" Joyce yelled beside him.
"Is that Cordelia!?" He shouted.
Everyone turned to look where he was pointing.
"Yeah, that is Cordy!" Buffy nodded. "Hey... what's she waving at?"
Angel followed Cordelia's path ahead of the ex-cheerleader, "Come on!"
"What? Why!?"
"I think she found Xander for us!" Angel shouted back.
"Control, this is station three... there's a disturbance in the club... Capperelli is out of the private room, and he;s waving a gun around."
"What!?" Natasha snapped, her blood running cold. "Any sign of Harris or gunplay?"
"Ummm... No... nope. He's hiding the gun now. Looks pretty disturbed though. He's ducking back into the private room."
Natasha breathed a sigh of relief, "All stations, look sharp. Something spooked Capperelli."
"Station One, I've got nothing at the fire door. Just the usual suspects of teenage depravity."
"Station Two, Nothing at the main doo... whoa..."
"Two?" Natasha snapped, "What? What is it?"
"I think I've got our man, Boss. Coming straight at me, looking pissed off about something... yeah... yeah, it's him alright."
"Units three and four, converge on the front of the club!" Natasha snapped, already moving. "Station two, do not detain him. Let him get outside and away from the crowd!"
"What did he look like!?" Capperelli snarled, grabbing the guard by the man's suit. "What the FUCK did he look like!?"
The man hesitated, speaking haltingly. "H... He ah... umm... a young guy... maybe five eleven, six feet... long hair, leather coat... long one, down to his lower legs..."
"Call the guys at the doors! Tell them to watch for him and tell me where he is!" Cal the Cap growled, pulling his Smith and ejecting the clip.
The guard fell back a step, then nodded. "Uh Yes Sir!"
Calvin Capperelli checked his Smith and Wesson .40, making sure the clip was loaded before reinserting it and racking the slide. "Hurry up!!"
<Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb!> Xander cursed himself as he kept moving towards the door.
One stupid thing. Just one goddamned stupid coincidence, and everything was on it's way to hell. Ahead of him he could see the doorman holding the side of his head as his eyes started to rove the room, and Xander cursed again.
<Of all the FUCKING times for a plan to work!> He screamed internally, his face a mask of anger at himself for jumping the gun on this part of the operation.
The guard was already talking into the microphone, so there was nothing for Xander to do but keep moving. He had to get this outside as the plan dictated, otherwise there could be a shootout in the club, and that was not an option.
He forced a grim smiled for the doorman as the big man moved to block his path. The man looked uncertain for a moment as Xander didn't even slow his step, but Xander could see his fists tightening into big ham-like weapons.
<Take it easy on this guy.> Xander thought to himself. <He's only doing his job... and maybe this'll make Cordy think twice.>
He never checked his motion as he walked right into the big bruiser, coming within three feet of the big man without a hint of his plan, and then he exploded outward. His fist and arm lanced out in a straight jab as his body leaned forward, and his rear leg flexed and snapped straight against the floor to through his body weight into the motion.
He timed the blow perfectly, his arm locking straight several inches past the big man's position, just as the unfortunate bouncer drew in a big breath and puffed out his chest. The man's eyes bulged in shock as all the air in his lungs was driven out with explosive force by the snapping punch to his sternum that suddenly collapsed his diaphragm. He went to his knees, still gasping for air as Xander just continued past him without bothering to look down.
The other bouncer just stared in wide eyed shock, falling away from him as Xander breezed past.
"Front door! He just took out Freddy at the front door, man!"
The Cap snarled, shoving the Smith into his waistband and rushed out of the private room, pushing his way through the crowd.
"Did you see that??" Buffy said, wide eyed, "Xander just hit that guy for no reason!"
"Oh, I think he had a reason." Angel said grimly from behind her, "Come on. We've got to move or we'll lose him."
"Boss... We've got a situation here."
Natasha groaned even as she kept moving through the club. "What!?"
"The Harris kid just took down one of the bouncers. Looks like the guy was under orders to stop him from leaving."
Natasha's eyes widened as she realized what was happening. "Oh SHIT! He's luring the Cap outside! Teams! Move it! Move it!"
Cordelia Chase faltered, slowing for a few steps as she watched Xander level a man at least twice his size.
"How...?" She whispered in shocked surprise, then shook her head.
<Later.> She set her face, moving faster as she chased after her quarry.
"Later." She promised herself in a whisper that went unheard over the music.
Xander stepped out into the clear air that surrounded the club, watching carefully over his shoulder as two more bouncers appeared and watched him carefully. He smiled at them and stepped down onto the street, turned left and pointed to a nicely quiet alley that he'd scouted before entering.
His smile faltered as he saw Cordelia burst out into the clear air as well, so he turned away and hitched his coat up to cover himself as he headed for the alley.
"Oh no you don't!" He heard her yell behind him. "You get your ass back here, Dweeb boy!!"
<Well... there goes any psychological edge I may have had.> Xander smirked bitterly, <No way a Wise Guy is gonna run scared of someone called 'Dweeb Boy'."
He sighed, but didn't stop moving as he heard Cordelia run to catch up to him.
<I have to get out of the crowds!> He thought desperately, <and find a way to ditch Cordy...>
To be honest, he admitted to himself, the first was going to be a piece of cake compared to the second.
"Get out of my way! Move the FUCK out of my way!" Cal the Cap screamed as he pushed through the crowd, fighting his way to the front.
The crowd around him just kept getting thicker until the pissed off hit man finally pulled his Smith and fired a round into the ceiling.
The crowd screamed and melted away from him like the red sea before moses, and the Mob hitman broke into a run as he headed for the door.
Angel grabbed Buffy when the shot went out, forcing her down as he covered her body with his own. Beside him he saw that Giles' had done much the same for Joyce.
"What was that!?"
"Gunshot." He said grimly into Buffy's ear. "Watch your step."
"Shit!" Natasha cursed as the crowd thickened around her even as they pulled away from The Cap. "All units! Grab Harris before this turns into a gunfight on the street!!"
"Xander Harris, I know it's you!" Cordy yelled out as she grabbed the leather clad shoulder and pulled the man around.
Xander turned to look at her, "Cordy. This isn't the time."
"Not the TIME!?" She shrieked, "You're ALIVE!"
Suddenly she hesitated, taking a step back, "Uh... you are alive, right?"
Xander looked up to the club as the doors burst open and he cursed again, "Get behind me, Cor."
"What!? Listen, you dweeb, if you think you can boss..." Cordy started to say, but was suddenly cut off as Xander reached out and yanked her by the arm and stepping in front of her. "Hey! What the hell do you think you're..."
The big pistol that filled Xander's fist, pointed at the ground but still in her sight, caused her to trail off and follow his gaze to the steps of the club.
A tall man with a scarred face was stepping slowly down the steps, another big pistol in his hand, as he glared straight at Xander.
"Xander... what...?"
"Shhhh." Xander hissed quietly as he stared at the man of his nightmares. "Hello Calvin."
"I don't know how you survived five rounds from my tommygun, boy," The scarred man sneered at him. "But I'm a professional. I finish my contracts."
The Cap came to a stop about ten paces from Xander, his Smith pointed at the ground just as Xander's 1911 was, and the two openly glared at each other as the street cleared between them.
"I don't suppose you'd care to tell me how you survived? Or whether I have any other loose threads out there to snip?" The Cap asked calmly, his hand shifting it's grip slightly in preparation to move. "Dear old Dad maybe? Mommy? Or maybe that red headed bitch is still kicking somewhere?"
A rage flared in Xander as he tensed, but the anger was cold, a pitiless pit of black hate that simply ate up every warm emotion in his body and mind. The hot passionate anger that had existed was gone as he stared at the subject of his hate, leaving him empty inside.
"When you get to hell, why don't you ask someone there." Xander smiled icily, "I'm certain they'll be happy to help you out."
The Cap's teeth were bared as he snarled in response, his body tensing as his hand started it's voyage to it's final destination.
Xander saw the movement and stood his place, his own hand coming up as if in some parody of the old time western shootouts.
And then the sound of sirens and screaming tires startled them both.
Black sedans with revolving lights on their dash roared into the area from some unknown positions, tires squealing as the slewed to a stop around and between Xander and Calvin Capperelli.
The Mob hitman was moving even before the cars halted, backtracking fast and heading for the club as he shot an ugly look at Xander over his shoulder. Xander continued to bring up the gun as his quarry bolted, dropping the iron sights into place as the man ran away.
His finger whitened as he started to squeeze the trigger, and then all he could hear was the shouting.
"Drop the gun!"
"Don't do it, Harris!"
"Freeze!!"
"Drop it, kid... just drop the gun!"
Cal ran up to a car that was pulling up to the exclusive club, pulled the surprised driver out by his throat, and jumped in. Xander's eyes blazed as he lowered the gun and turned on the agents around him, "He's getting away!! Stop him!!"
He could see guilt and sympathy in many of their eyes, and knew that they weren't going to do anything.
"Sorry kid." One of them said sincerely. "We're not here for him."
Xander's head snapped back as the tires squealed and the expensive sports car roared away, and something inside him snapped.
Natasha Romanov burst out of the club just behind a group she recognized two members of, her eyes casting around as she searched for her quarry.
"Xander!" The blond yelled, pointing, and Natasha turned to see the Harris boy standing with his gun pointed to the ground as he yelled something at one of her agents.
She breathed a sigh of relief. They had him, he wasn't waving his pistol around, and she could see one of the agents step forward to talk him down. <By the book.>
If she'd blinked, she would have missed what happened next.
Whatever the agent said, it didn't calm Harris down. Instead he planted his hand on the hood of the car and vaulted across it, sliding on his back as he kicked his foot up and knocked the pistol from the agent's hand. His other leg delivered a debilitating kick to the agent's sternum, then Harris was on the ground on the drivers side of the car.
He grabbed the roof of the car with both hands and jumped up, sliding in the open window and twisting into the drivers seat. The sedan was still running, so he had it in reverse before anyone really had the slightest inkling of what he was doing.
Agent's fired, people screamed, and the bulletproofed Sedan left nothing but smoke and burnt rubber as it reversed off the curb and into the street.
The blond and her group were yelling and running forward now, but Natasha ignored them, they, and she, were all too far away to change anything. As the car came to a stop in the street while Harris shifted gears, Natasha's eyes widened as a figure she didn't recognize raced across the street and climbed into the passenger side.
"Get out!" Xander snapped as Cordy dropped into place beside him.
"Uh uh. No way." She shook her head.
He snapped around, "Damn it Cordy! This isn't a game!"
"You better get moving, or those guys with guns are going to get out here." Cordelia informed him helpfully.
Xander snarled an ugly curse and put the gas to the floor. The powerful engine in the SHIELD issue sedan roared as he and his passenger were slammed back into their seats.
"Goddamnit!" Natasha cursed as she moved through the mess. "Get these cars straightened out! All units, get in pursuit of the subject!!"
She shook her head, exasperated as she looked skyward for salvation. Finally she cursed again and shifted frequencies, "This is the Widow. Put me on with the Colonel."
"Alright lady!" A voice snapped from behind her, a hand on her shoulder spinning her around. "Who are you and why are you after Xander!?"
Natasha Romanov found herself looking down at the glaring blond and brushed the girl's hand off. "Stay out of this. We mean your friend no harm, but if he continues on this course he WILL do something he will regret."
"Natasha?" Fury's voice came through her earpiece and she turned away from the blond as two of the girls friends puled her back.
"Yes Sir," She said, taking a breath. "Harris has... appropriated unit four's sedan. Requesting a Global Position Lock on the car and air support."
"You have it." Fury snapped. "Get him, Natasha."
"Yes Sir." She shook her head, turning back to the blond and her friends. "You want to help your friend? Come with me... help me talk him into coming in... before he does something he'll never walk away from."
"Xander..." Cordy spoke hesitantly, as much from worry about distracting him from his driving as anything else.
"What is it, Cor?" Xander's voice held little, if any, of the old warmth and humor in it.
"What happened?"
"He happened." Xander nodded his head to the taillights that were weaving in and out of sight in the distance. "He came into my home... My HOME... and shot my parents, Willow, and me."
"H... How are you... Xander... Are you a...?" Cordy trailed off.
"I'm alive and breathing." Xander replied, twisting the wheel to the right to avoid a pickup, then back to the left as a semi-trailer changed lanes. "The guys I borrowed the car from found me just minutes after he'd left. I was the only one alive."
"So you stole a car from them, huh? Funny way to thank someone for saving your life..." Cordy tried a little joke.
It fell flat.
Xander didn't even look over at her, he just kept staring ahead.
"Y... your funeral was nice." She said a moment later.
Xander's eyes flicked over at her, widening slightly in disbelief. "What?"
"Well it was." She said defensively. "Everyone from school came to it... and everyone had something to say... it was all nice and everything."
Xander looked back ahead, shaking his head slightly. After a moment though he spoke again, his voice almost a whisper. "What about Willow's?"
"It was nice too." Cordy said just as softly, the scream of tires and the blare of horns fading around them as she spoke. "Her parents said some really great stuff, and so did Giles and Buffy... Lots of people talked about how she helped them in school... a few remembered Graduation and her help. It was nice."
Xander hesitated, then nodded. "Good."
"Xander..." Cordelia hesitated, but finally pushed on. "What are you planning on doing?"
"Me and him, we have something to finish." Xander said calmly. "He needs me dead. I don't plan on making it easy."
"Then turn around!" Cordy half turned. "Run! Don't throw your life away Xander... I..."
"What?" Xander asked coldly, "He killed Willow. He killed by parents. I can't walk... I can't RUN from that."
Cordy swallowed hard, "But Xander... let the law..."
"What? The law has let him *party* for over five WEEKS." Xander snapped harshly. "He's been up here in plain freaking sight! It took me TWO days to find him, and they haven't brought him in yet! The law had their chance Cordy..."
"He's not a vampire, Xander..." Cordelia tried again.
Xander smiled grimly as he watched the brake lights come on as the car ahead of them turned in toward a villa home. He started to slow to make the turn too, then he spoke. "No. He's not. He's worse. Much, much, worse."
Calvin Cap Capperelli skidded the white sports car to a stop outside his villa home on the beach, knowing full well that he was being pursued. Everything had gone to hell so fast that he didn't know what had actually happened.
First that god damned kid came back from the dead, and 'The Cap' is suddenly persona non-grata with the big boys until he handled the problem. Next, just as he's about to end the whole farce, the cops show up!
He spat on the ground as he took the stairs of his porch at a leap. The lights of a car swung to pass over him as he moved, and he knew that his pursuer was behind him.
It was stupid, it had to be the cops after all, but The Cap had this gut feeling deep down that it was the kid back there. Coming to gun him down in retribution for killing his parents. There was an irony in there somewhere, Calvin Capperelli figured, but he was too busy scrambling to find it.
The door was locked.
He kicked it in. Fuck fumbling for keys.
"Gotta get my Thompson." He muttered, stumbling at the stairs and scrambling up the flight on all fours until he got his feet back under him.
The black sedan skidded to a halt, the passenger side of the car scraping along the sports car.
"Hey! Watch it! You blocked my door!" Cordy snapped.
"I know." Xander got out and slammed the door behind him. "Stay in the car. If I'm not the first one out that door... shift into reverse and get the hell out of here."
"What!? Xander, I'm not going to let you....!"
"Stay in the FUCKING car, Cordy!" Xander snapped, his face furious. "You're already too goddamned close to this, and I can't be looking over my shoulder for you in there!"
"I'm not some wallflower, Xander! I don't need you protecting me..."
"Are you willing to kill?" Xander asked softly, seriously.
She didn't have an answer.
"Then you don't have any place in this." Xander straightened and turned to the villa. "This is my war, Cordy. Just stay in the car."
With that he walked calmly toward the house.
"The signal from the car is just ahead, Ma'am."
Natasha Romanov nodded silently, checking her equipment.
"Who are you people?" Joyce Summers asked softly, just over the whine of the aircraft's engine. "And why are you after Xander?"
Natasha looked up, "It started just as protecting one of our own... Har... Xander's father was one of us. So we went to look after him and his family when we heard about the hit. Xander was the only one we found alive... so we took him, covered up his survival... put him in our hospital facility. He... well, he broke out."
"Broke out." Angel said flatly, "Why did he have to break out?"
"Because he shouldn't be walking around yet." Natasha's eyes flashed. "He took five .45 caliber rounds to his chest... He should be dead, but something kept him hanging on... He was still in recovery when he assaulted a guard and his doctor and broke out... stealing classified equipment in the process, I might add."
Angel surprised everyone present by chuckling softly. "Figures. Xander never did know when to lie down and die."
"Perhaps, but in the process he's dragged us into this mess because he's still officially in our care." Natasha muttered darkly. "And we'd be much happier, all considered, if he'd turn himself in nicely so we can turn him over to Witness Protection. Though not until after he tells us where he stashed that equipment he stole..."
Xander flattened himself against the wall to the left of the shattered front door, pistol in one hand, Mac10 in the other. He risked a quick look inside, snapping his head out and back too fast for more then a glance, but it was enough.
<Empty.> He frowned, spinning through the door, guns up and ready. <Where are you??>
He moved slowly through the hall, feet sliding just above the floor as he glided through the house. He stopped by the stairs as a noise caught his attention. A bang, followed by a clatter.
<Upstairs.> He thought, extending the Mac10 up the stairs as he covered the lower floor with the 1911. He took the steps two at a time, testing each one before putting his weight on it, but the home was new and the woodworking was solid so he didn't cause any squeaks as he moved.
As he approached the top of the stairs he heard another sound.
A metallic click, followed by a racking noise.
Xander threw himself up the last few stairs and rolled into a bathroom off the steps as the heavy staccato report of the Thompson erupted into the tight confines, spraying lead all around him as he came to a halt on the tiled floor.
He stayed low as the ceramic tiles above him were shattered by the heavy rounds, and listened to the incoherent scream of his quarry as the old machine gun roared it's war cry.
"Oh god." Cordelia whispered as she heard the loud angry roar of gunfire erupt from inside the house. In the upstairs window she could see flashes and shadows moving around.
"Xander." She whispered in shock as she opened the drivers side door mechanically and climbed out.
"Be all right. Please God, be all right."
Xander's 1911 roared twice as he fired two blind shots back, more to keep his quarry busy then anything else. He was trapped in the bathroom, but by the same token 'The Cap' would have to come into the open the get a clear shot at him, which made it a standoff.
That wasn't acceptable.
Xander wasn't playing for a draw. He was in this game, win or lose.
So he steeled himself, shifting his grip on his weapons, and threw himself out of the bathroom in a long dive that brought him headlong past the stairs to the upstairs hallway. The Mac10 snarled it's response to the Thompson's roar, causing Capperelli to dodge backward and duck into a room.
Xander rolled to his feet, dropping the clip from the machine pistol, and slipping a new one home. Then he slowly straightened up, "I'm coming for you, Calvin."
"Shut up!" Came the angry response from the room at the far end of the hall. "Shut the fuck up!"
Xander started walking down the hall, slowly. "You've got an appointment in hell, Calvin. I'm just here to make sure you keep it."
The hitman shoved the Thompson out of the room and fired a wild spray down the hall. Xander just ducked into the doorway of another room until it stopped, then he fired a round back to keep The Cap pinned down.
"You already killed me, Calvin." Xander called out, moving closer. "Can't kill someone twice..."
"SHUT UP!!" Capperelli screamed, firing another wild burst that Xander didn't even have to bother ducking.
"Did you know that there really was a Hell, Calvin?" Xander asked conversationally as he popped another couple rounds down the hall. "I happen to know that it exists... I wonder if your room is already reserved? Or do you think that you're worth a room to yourself? I doubt you do, you know... You're just a bottom feeder, Calvin..."
"I said SHUT THE FUCK UP!!"
When the muzzle of the machine gun came out this time, Xander fired first, the 9mm parabellum rounds ripping into the doorframe and sending splinters and shards into the room. The muzzle ducked back quick, and Xander slid into place right beside the door.
He fired two rounds into the room blind from his 1911, then ejected the clip from the pistol and quickly replaced it. He dropped into a crouch, hefting both weapons in preparation, then flipped into the room, leading with the Mac10.
The compact little machine pistol snarled out it's battle cry, the 9mm rounds ripping through the small room as Xander brought the 1911 into play for more controlled shots.
Only to find the room empty.
"What the fuck?" He whispered to himself as he rose to his feet and silently passed through the room like a ghost.
There were no doors, and nothing of value to hide in or behind.
Then Xander felt the breeze from the open window and cursed. He ran to the window, looking out, and just ducked back in time as a burst from the thompson came within a hairs breadth of taking his head off. This time though, he heard the sound for which he'd been waiting.
The sound of a gun locking on an empty breech.
Xander climbed out the window quickly, leading with the 1911 as he looked around. He found Calvin clambering up toward the peak of the roof and fired a shot just ahead of the man. The .45 caliber round dug into the shingles near the Cap's hand, causing him to freeze.
"Leaving so soon, Calvin?" Xander asked with a twisted smile as he climbed up on the relatively flat section of roof that housed the window dormer. "You and me have some business to finish."
The hitman turned around slowly, his hands up and empty. "You got me kid... You got me."
"Tell me something I don't know." Xander snarled, extending the pistol to point straight at the hitman's skull.
Hitman and Avenger stared at each other for several long seconds from either side of the iron sights of the Colt 1911 Government model pistol, then Xander's finger whitened on the trigger and he spoke.
"Goodbye Calvin. I'll see you in hell." He smiled calmly, just as a snapping sound echoed all around them and the area was flooded with light.
Both of them looked up as aircraft appeared from the night, buzzing around them like angry bees. One of them lowered to the rooftop and a door opened.
"Don't do it, Xander." Rupert Giles was standing there, yelling over the sounds. "It's not worth it. I know!"
Xander snarled, the pistol not budging. "Go home, Giles! He killed WILLOW!"
"Xander! Please!"
Xander swallowed, hearing Buffy add her voice to the mix.
"I know he killed her. I know! But you can't become him! Please!"
A tremor started in his hand, but Xander fought to keep the pistol on his target as he blinked away the fogginess of his eyes. He shook his head, fighting to find his resolve again as he tightened his finger ont he trigger again.
"Kid... Don't do it." The voice came from the other side, and Xander turned to see Colonel Fury jumping down onto the room. "Let the law take care of it, kid..."
"The law hasn't DONE SHIT so far!!" Xander screamed, his rage focusing him on his target again.
"They didn't have the evidence!" Fury shouted, coming closer step by step. "He got away clean! But that's changed now... They've got you to testify, and the Thompson there... it's the gun he shot you with right?"
Xander swallowed and nodded.
"Then they've got something now. Don't they?" Fury said softly. "Let the law handle it..."
Xander's arm was shaking, he couldn't hold the gun steady anymore as it rode the tremors in his muscles.
"Xander! Listen to them!" Cordy yelled from the grounds below.
He tried to pull the trigger, some last remnant of his rage battering at the sudden indecision, but he found that he couldn't, and finally his arm fell to his side, his posture becoming one of abject defeat as he gave up and just slumped there.
Fury stepped forward and took the pistol from his limp hand, then turned to the hitman. "Calvin Caperelli, on behalf of the FBI I am placing you under arrest for the murders of Anthony and Jessica Agata, and Willow Rosenberg. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you..."
Xander didn't hear anything else. He just stared at the man he had come to kill and kept asking himself why he didn't just finish the mission.
Xander Harris woke, as he always did, in a fit of cold sweat as the mist-like memories of the terror slipped from his mind, as they always did. Xander didn't need to remember them to know what they were about, he didn't need the fevered imaginings of his unconscious mind to conjur up his worst nightmare.
He had it replaying in his waking mind during every free moment.
The apartment was nice enough, but Xander didn't feel any of the comfort as he shed the blankets and pulled on a pair of slacks. He didn't bother with a shirt, it would only get dirty if he put it on before his morning routine anyway, and left the bedroom.
"Hey Xan."
"Hey Mike." Xander nodded to the Marshal who was sitting in the kitchen.
Since SHIELD had backed out almost a month ago, Xander found himself living with full time babysitters. At least until the trial was over, though that was looking to be pretty soon. Against the arguments of the defense council, the prosecution had managed to fast track the case of Calvin Capperelli. Xander had finished testifying the day before and left the court room under guard so heavy that he'd barely been able to catch a glimpse of his friends in passing.
That was for the best.
Xander had told Fury to get them out of LA way back on that fateful night, but he'd seen them all at the trial ay one point or another, except Deadboy of course. At least they were smart enough to wear minimal disguises, wigs, makeup, whatever. He was fairly certain that Cal wouldn't recognize them, so there was that at least.
The only person he hadn't seen was Cordy, and he'd receive word via a very quiet shadow by his window that she was working with Deadboy now. And at least Angel had a realistic grasp of what this was all about, what the consequences were. He'd kept Cordy away.
God Bless That Vamp.
Xander slipped into the nautilus machine that he'd managed to force the government to provide for him and started his morning routine. Actually he'd gotten a fairly well equipped gym, though the Fed he'd bargained with had squeaked badly when signing off on the agreement.
Fury had probably helped him in that regard, but they also wanted Caperelli bad.
That was something Xander could appreciate, though he also understood another aspect the federal prosecutor had laid out. If Cal the Cap was willing to finger the man who gave the order, they'd cut him a deal. That was fine with Xander, he wanted the man above more the Cap anyway.
Besides, sooner or later, everyone gets what's coming to them.
A week ago, they'd made the offer though, and Calvin had spit in the Fed's face. Xander could have told them that would happen too, but they would never have believed him.
They hadn't stared at Caperelli over the iron sights of a Colt .45.
No, The Feds were going to have to settle, just like Xander, for the personage of Cal the Cap. He wasn't going to talk about his boss, even if everyone already 'knew' that it was Big Dom Castiglione who ordered the hit.
They'd all have to settle for that.
Well, Xander was working on it. He still had a long way to go before he could even come close to accepting any drink that bitter. But he'd get there.
He hoped.
Xander looked at the clock up on the wall and licked his lips.
The Defense attorney, some guy named Lindsey something, had given his final arguments yesterday. The jury had gone into sequestration the night before. And then it was all over except for the waiting.
Xander kept doing his reps, trying to drive the thoughts from his mind as he waited for the call. It could be hours, days, weeks. It could be no time at all, or they may never come to a verdict.
That was the worst he could think of, having to do this all over again.
"Xander?"
He looked up at the soft voice and smiled, "Hey Jackie."
The slim US Marshal nodded at him, and returned the smile. "It's time."
"That fast?" Xander looked up, "It's only three o'clock..."
"Sometimes it happens." She shrugged, risking another smile. "Once in a while even Juries agree."
"Thanks." Xander said, letting the machine slid back before he got up. He grabbed a towel and started wiping off as he headed for the shower. "I'll just be a couple minutes."
"Take your time." She told him, "they won't start without you."
Xander nodded, his stomach churning as he considered what was about to happen. Everything that had happened led up to this point. Everything he'd lost, everything he'd sacrificed, and even everything he hadn't.
He took a shower quickly, then got dressed and met his babysitters out by the apartment door.
"Ready?" Mike asked him, checking his pistol as he always did before going out.
"Yeah." Xander said softly. "Let's do this."
"You shouldn't be doing this, Xander." Jackie tried again.
Xander shook his head, "I have to see this, Jackie. This guy owns a piece of me right now... I need it back."
Jackie swallowed, nodding. "Alright."
"Let's go." Mike said calmly.
"All Rise."
"Has the Jury returned a Verdict?"
"We have your Honor."
"Please read the Verdict."
"Yes your Honor. Calvin Caperelli, we the Jury find that on the count of inciting riot, guilty. On the count of discharging a firearm in public, guilty. On the count of Conspiring to commit murder.... Not guilty by reason of insufficient evidence. One the count of Murder in the first, Not Guilty, by reason of insufficient evidence. That is all."
A silenced hush fell over the court room before sudden outraged voices screamed from all around. Even reporters were shocked into yelling their disgust at the outcome as the Judge slammed his gavel down time and time again.
"Order! Order!" He yelled until things quieted. He turned to look at the defendant, "Mr Caperelli, you have been found guilty of two misdemeanors, sentencing will be next week. I assure you that I will enforce the maximum penalty allowed me in this case... however insufficient that may be."
He turned back to the jury, a look of disgust tempered by his professional demeanor and even a hint of sympathy. "Thank you for your time."
The foreman of the jury smiled and nodded his thanks, but the Judge had already turned away.
"We will be filing a protest, your honor!" The Prosecution took to his feet.
"I sincerely hope so, Mr Givens." The Judge sighed, rapping his gavel. "In the meantime, however, as Mr Caperelli has been cleared of all felony charges... and as I'm sure that he's prepared to post bond...?"
"We are your Honor." Lindsey stood up with a smile.
"Then I have no choice but to let him go free." The judge rapped his gavel.
Another wave of protest roared through the room, but Xander just sat there and stared at the man who had killed those dear to him as the cuffs were released. His lawyers moved ahead of him as the bailiff cleared the way for them, but Caperelli stopped to smirk at Xander. He raised his finger like the barrel of a gun and cocked his thumb.
"Thems the breaks kid."
With that he was gone, and Xander's own bodyguards were dragging him out of the courtroom under heavy guard.
"It'll be ok..." Jackie was telling him, "The prosecution will get that overturned... Even the Judge knew something was screwy. They must have gotten to the Jury."
Xander didn't respond as they slipped into the apartment.
"That Wofram and Heart firm is bad news." Mike said ahead of him as they shut and locked the door behind them. "They probably had something on the members. The prosecution will petition for a mis-trial, get a change of venue..."
Xander still didn't say anything, he just walked over to the tv and flicked it on. The case wasn't on the TV, apparently it wasn't big enough news. He changed the channels, his eyes dead as he watched the shows flip by.
Behind him he heard Mike open the fridge.
"Oh SHIT!!" The Marshal screamed, driving Xander to his feet on almost forgotten instincts. He turned around as the Marshal slammed the door and started to run toward him. "BOMB!!"
Both Marshal's hit Xander at the same time, driving him back away from the kitchen and toward the large blacked out window behind him. He felt the glass break behind him as the explosion roared to life and consumed the apartment.
The concussion wave picked the three of them up, flinging them out of the apartment like a giant hand had decided to play pitch with them. They flew across the street below them and slammed into the roof of a building where they slid to a stop. Xander managed to stay awake long enough to see the brilliant plume of flames reach for the sky behind them, and then the world went black.
On the other side of the apartment, a man on a different rooftop smiled and lifted a phone to his ear. "It's done."
Xander awoke to the sound of sirens all around him, the weight of the two marshals still heavily pushing down on him as he groaned and moved slowly. He rolled out from under them, then crawled back, pushing them both over.
Their eyes were vacant, the shrapnel and burns along their backs providing the reason why. Xander swallowed as he closed both sets of eyes and pushed himself to his feet. He turned around unsteadily, the glare of the fire above him flickering away the shadows as he looked up at the place that had been his home for the past month or so.
For a long moment he just stood there, wondering why he'd survived. Again.
"Why?" He asked, shaking slightly as the adrenaline fled his system. He suddenly felt just incredibly tired.
He'd done everything that could be expected. He left it to the law, he hadn't put a hole in that bastard's head when he had the chance, he'd let the authorities handle the situation. And what had that gotten him?
Below he could hear the firefighters moving into action as the pain that wracked his body began to grow with his every movement.
"What do you want from me?" He asked, looking up. "I DID what I was supposed TO! What the hell do you fucking want from me!?"
There was no answer of course, there never was.
"Well fuck you." Xander ground out. "I tried it the civilized way. I tried it your way. Now I'm doing this my way."
He turned back, gently stripping the two bodies of their personal weapons. Briefly he knelt by them and shook his head, "Mike... Jackie... You saved my life... I wish I could do the thing you saved me for. But the courts can't deal with this... or they won't. I'm sorry."
Then he stood up and walked off the room, taking the fire escape to the ground away from the commotion behind him.
The shock of the news announcement of Xander's death hit too soon on the back of the travesty that occurred in court. In the offices that Angel kept, there was an air of total shock and disbelief.
"I can't believe it ended this way." Buffy said, breaking the silence as her mother pulled her closer. "I... I mean... it's not supposed to end like this. He was arrested. He wasn't supposed to get away... he was supposed to go to prison."
"Things don't always end the way they are supposed to, Buffy." Giles said soberly from where he was sitting, miserably staring at the wall.
"They usually don't." Angel said after a moment. "Believe me, I know."
No one answered as the silence descended again.
"What are we going to do about it?" Cordelia looked up.
Everyone shifted uncomfortably.
"Well??" She looked around challenging.
"What would you have us do, Cordelia?" Giles asked softly. "Track this man down? Kill him in cold blood? To what end?"
"Avenging Xander!" Cordy growled. "Buffy, you have to..."
She looked over at Buffy and fell silent. The young Slayer looked like she had died the week before. She was pale, her face lacking in any real color as she barely mustered the energy to look up and meet Cordelia's gaze. Cordy looked away first, she knew that there was no way that Buffy was up to tracking a new born vampire, let alone facing against a Mob Hitman and whoever else was helping him.
Angel spoke up next, "There's nothing we can do right now. We'll wait and see what happens... We shouldn't make decisions in times of emotion."
"Easy for you to say." Cordelia snapped angrily, but the mood of loss and despair that filled the room quickly pulled her down too.
Digging up the cash from the loan shark operation was easy enough, Xander had secured it in a locker under a false name at the bus station. From there he headed across town, picking a gun shop at random from the phone book.
It was early morning, the place had just opened, and was completely deserted save for the owner.
Xander walked in with the duffel bag of cash under swinging from his hand. He was wearing the scorched and torn suit he'd worn to court the previous day, and probably looked like hell as he stepped into the owner's sight.
The man watched him carefully, tensing, and Xander didn't blame him in the slightest. Xander ignored him though, instead pulling items down from the racks and dropping them on the counter.
A vest to replace the one he'd lost in the explosion, a good military fighting blade, a pair of holsters for the two Para-Ord .40S&W pistols he'd taken from the marshals, a military BDU blacksuit, a pair of aviator nomex gloves, and various other little nick-nacks, including a fully equipped first aid kit, filled out the normal side of the equipment he needed.
The owner eyed him slowly, then nodded. "And how will you be paying for that?"
"Cash." Xander said stonily as he dropped the duffel bag on the counter.
He watched the owner's eyes bulge as he looked inside and swallowed hard. "Uh. Yes Sir. Will there be anything else?"
"No thanks." Xander replied, tossing a few bricks of cash to the man as he grabbed the stuff and walked out of the store.
The owner looked at the money scattered over his counter, many times what the items he'd sold where worth, "Come again..."
He rented a cheap room in a run down section of town, not wanting any questions asked as he didn't have any answers a sane person might want to hear.
He used the med-kit to clean and bandage his scrapes and burns, and was surprised by how minor the damage really was. He could only assume that it was the vests and body's of the two marshals that had saved him from much, much, worse.
When he was done of that, Xander laid down and tried to get some sleep. It didn't work real well, he didn't sleep well anymore at the best of times, but between the recent events and the still shaking remnants of the adrenaline high, he didn't have much of a chance.
He gave it up when the sky started to darken outside and got up, taking a half hour to strip down the two Para-ordinance pistols and make sure they were good to go. As he expected, the two marshals kept their guns in good order, so it wasn't strictly necessary. After that he got dressed, pulling the skin tight blacksuit on over his body, fitting the armor, and then the two holsters for the pistols.
The knife went on his hip, and finally the black oilcloth duster slipped over it all as he prepared to go out into the night.
"Alright boys and girls, Marvelous Marty's one stop shop is open for business!"
Marvelous Marty's shop was a beaten old panel van that used to be black, but now was a mixture of faded grey, rust, and primer. It was also the last piece of the puzzle Xander was putting together.
Finding out who was selling illegal armaments in the city wasn't nearly as hard as he'd thought it might be. A couple scum bags flipped on Marty when Xander had shown them the carrot and the stick. The carrot being a brick of bills, and the stick being one of the Para-Ord's he was carrying.
Now it was Marty's turn to choose which one he wanted to catch.
"Whoa, big guy..." Marty grinned as Xander walked out of the alley toward's him. "What can I do for ya?"
Xander looked at him, then tossed the duffel bag to his feet. Marty kicked it open and his eyes widened, "Whoa. What do you need, man?"
"All of it." Xander said extending his hand, "And the keys to the van."
"What are you crazy? I need my van, man!!"
"Let me put it this way," Xander's Para-Ord filled his other hand, leveled at Marty's head. "This is the stick. That's the carrot. You pick."
"Uh... umm... right. Carrot. Cool. Here ya go, man." Marty fished out the keys and handed them over.
"Thanks." Xander brushed past him, slamming the rear doors shut.
"Wait! Who are you, man!?" Marty asked, a hint of worry in his voice.
"I'm no one you want to know." Xander said, pulling the drivers side door shut and starting the van.
"How am I supposed to get home!?" Marty called after him as the van roared out of the abandoned lot. "Well shit."
A fast inventory took an hour, then another hour to clean and care for the weapons he'd selected from the van. Marty may have been an arms dealer, but Xander didn't think he'd ever fired a shot in his life. If he had, he'd have blown his hands off. At least, he would have if he'd used any of his own inventory.
Xander didn't bother to wonder where he'd gotten half the stuff in the van, it didn't matter. He plucked a Colt M4 from the pile to supplement his pistols, and chose a pair of Ingram machine pistols to finish out the load.
The rest he'd worry about another time.
For now he had a job to do. A mission to finish.
The funny thing was, that this time it was going to be even easier to find his quarry. The trial had turned up all sorts of interesting tidbits about Mr Capperelli's habits, and his position as star witness had let him in on a lot of the files that the prosecution held. After the fact of course, since they were worried about tainting this testimony, but it was enough.
The Rodoco Club was a private holding of the Families, used as a 'Gentlemens Club' of sorts, mostly when they wanted to get away from the prying eyes of the police. The cops knew it was there, knew what it was used for, but couldn't get a warrant on the place if they had a note from God.
Xander didn't need a warrant.
He parked the van in a back alley behind the club and got out, using the shadows of the place to stay concealed. Popping the lock on the loading bay was easy as pie, and that let him into the storage unit at the back.
He ignored the stacks of liqueur and consumables piled around the place. He was here for something a little less tangible. There was an off chance that his target would be here, of course, but that wasn't the primary intent this time.
He was hunting for intel again.
Xander smirked as he moved toward the door that opened up on the club. At least this time he wasn't starting from the bottom.
"Sir... we have the final report from the safe house."
"Give it to me."
"There were no bodies inside, Sir. They found the two Marshals on a roof across the street... both dead. Preliminary examination from the crime lab guesses that they were thrown out the window and landed there."
"Harris?"
"They found a blood trail. No body."
"Son of a bitch." Colonel Nicholas Fury smiled slightly. "That boy has nine lives."
"Sir... should we go look for him?"
Fury shook his head, "Hell no. Let Justice find him... If they can. It's not our problem anymore."
"Yes Sir."
Fury watched the man leave and shook his head as he lit a cigar. "Good luck Kid."
"Hey! Who are- urk!"
Xander cut off the guard's yell with a chop to the throat, the butt of his Para-Ord stopping just short of permanently crushing the man's windpipe. As the guard crumpled, trying to breath, Xander rapped him across the forehead and sent him out for the night.
He paused for a moment, noticing a side door. The room was dark so he pushed open the door and dragged the guy out of sight, pulling a mag-light from his pocket to look around.
It was an office with the basic paraphernalia one might expect, except for the fact that it held four huge filing cabinets in one corner.
<A club like this shouldn't need that much room for records...> Xander's eyes gleamed in the dark office as he moved forward and checked them.
<Locked.> He snorted. Cabinets like these wouldn't have locks worthy of the name, not if Sunnydale Highschool was any indication. He pulled his K-Bar and made short work of the first lock, popping it with a twist and smack of the blade.
<Let's see what we have here...> Xander mused as he rifled through the files quickly, tossing some aside as unimportant and starting a small pile of items that might come in handy.
<Perfect.> He smiled after several minutes, <This is just what I need.>
He quickly gathered the papers into a pile and dropped them on the floor by the guard.
Then he moved forward into the club proper.
"Some fucking time, huh?" A man in a cheap suit grinned as he took a gulp from his whisky. "Hard to believe Cal got off."
"Believe it." Another one replied, shrugging. "If you're ever in trouble... and you got the cash, hire Wolfram and Hart. Those guys are the slickest lawyers in town... They could get Hitler off of warcrime charges."
The men around the table chuckled appreciatively.
"Yeah, I hear that the big boys have them on retainer."
"Only the biggest." Another man spoke up. "Really, I'm surprised that they took Cal's case. Usually they don't work for nobodies."
"Hey! The Cap ain't a nobody!" One in the corner objected, "He took out Anthony Agata!"
The first speaker shrugged, "To those guys? That's nobody. They don't work for the families... so Agata don't mean nothin to them. I wonder what made them take Cal's case?"
A few guys shrugged as the complainer quieted down.
"I wonder where Cal is at these days?" Another spoke up.
"You know..." A new voice entered the conversation, "I'd like to know the same thing."
As one the crowd turned in surprise to see a man melt out of the shadows, all dressed in black, and carrying a rifle in a casual carry.
"Holy shit!" Someone screamed, jumping up as he went for his gun.
The man fired in reflex as the pistol slid into sight, putting two 5.56 manglers through the man's chest and dropping him to the floor in a second.
In the stunned aftermath of the double booms of the Colt M4 Carbine, he spoke dryly. "There's an old expression that fits this situation... The kid gloves are off."
One of the men took a half step forward, eyes wide in shock. "W... who are you, man?"
"Dead men don't have names." The man said simply, "But I used to go by the name Agata."
The men paled in shock, falling back in unison as the compact rifle swung to cover them, whispers starting to pass between them.
"Agata..."
"It can't be."
"He's dead... They're both dead."
"He came back from the dead once..."
The who called himself Agata smiled as the whispers reached a furor of hushed exclamations, then shifted the carbine and put a round through the ceiling. Everyone jumped in surprise, and he looked them over carefully. "Where's Cal the Cap?"
"W... we don't know. After he got out he just ghosted man..." One of them said hesitantly.
Xander nodded, he'd half expected that. He walked backwards until he got to the bar, then he reached over it and pulled up a bottle of rum. The mob goons watched as he pulled the cork with his teeth and started to sprinkle the liqueur over the bar.
"Hey! What the fuck are yo...?"
Xander cut the man off with a shot to the floor at his feet and smiled as he finished dumping the bottle. "You tell your bosses that until the Cap finishes the job they paid him for, something of theirs is gonna burn every night starting now."
Xander flung the bottle back, shattering it and three others at the back of the bar, then he shifted the carbine to one hand as he flipped open a zippo lights, lit it, and dropped it on the bar. As the flames started to lick the antique cherry bar, one of the men closest to him snarled and yelled.
"You're a dead man! You hear me you fucker!? You're a walking dead man!!"
Xander reached down to his hip and flipped out the military K-Bar blade, twirling it in his hand as he took a single stride forward and snapped the blade up against the loudmouth's throat.
"I'm twice dead you stupid fuck," He growled as the M4 swept the room slowly, keeping the rest back. "And if you think that you're the one who can make it stick... you're welcome to try. But the next time you open your yap, you better be ready to fight... Cause I'm gonna put a bullet in you if I hear another fucking word. Got that?"
Blood trickled down his neck from the shallow as the flickering flames behind them danced his eyes, but the Wise Guy couldn't see anything by the twin pools of dark death that were staring at him. He nodded finally, fearfully.
"Good." Xander snarled, stepping back, the knife sliding back into it's sheath as he returned his grip to the carbine. "Understand this, all of you!, the only reason you're walking out of here tonight is because I've got more pressing matters. Cal the Cap. He's got a job to finish. Tell him that."
Everyone nodded, backing away as the smoke from the flames started to clog the room.
"Go!" Xander yelled, firing a burst through the room, causing everyone to turn and bolt.
Xander turned and went back the way he'd come, stopping to pick up the papers he'd found in the office. Then he grabbed the unconscious guard by the shirt and drug him out of the burning club. In the alley out back he dropped the guy and then got into his van where he stopped for a moment to look at the licking flames, then he started it up and drove off.
"What!?"
"He said he was Agata..." The man cowered under the rage of the screaming man.
"Agata is DEAD! His SON is DEAD!"
"Please... boss... I'm just telling you what he said..."
The boss made a visible effort to calm down. "Alright. Fine. He said he's Agata... what else."
"That he's gonna torch family holdings until Cal the Cap comes back to finish the job he started." The man winced, expecting another blow up.
This time it didn't come.
The boss snorted, "Bastard wants Cal to finish what he started huh? Well that makes fucking two of US! Gregory!"
"Yes Boss."
"Find the Cap. I don't care where he's shacking up or who he's screwin. You get him back here. Got that?"
"Yes Sir."
Then the boss turned back to the cowering, soot covered, man. "As for you..."
"Boss...?" The man shivered.
"You're going to get some men together and lay a trap for this... ghost. And you are going to KILL him *again*, otherwise I'm going to rip your balls off for letting him burn MY CLUB!!"
"Yes Boss!" The man nodded energetically.
"I suggest you start with the rest of those fucking cowards who let him walk in and out under their very fucking noses!"
"Yes boss!! I understand..."
"Good. So get the fuck out!"
"Colonel..."
"What is it, Sharon?"
"LA PD and Fire department just reported something that might interest you."
"Oh?" Fury tensed. There was only one thing brewing in LA right now that was likely to bring Sharon to his office.
"The Rodoco club is in the process of burning to the ground."
Fury blinked, thinking. "Isn't that the one owned by the Familes?"
"That's the one sir."
"Looks like our young friend is getting an early start." Fury grinned humorously.
"So it would appear, Sir."
"Something tells me I'm going to regret not having recruited him." Fury shook his head, "Thanks for the update, Sharon."
"Yes sir, not problem."
"Sharon?"
"Yes?"
"Keep an eye on the situation."
Xander pulled the beat up van to a halt near a crappy old redstone building in a neighborhood that had seen better days. Most of the mob's holdings in LA these days were upscale, but there were exceptions.
According to the papers Xander had found this place was one of those.
He reluctantly set the Colt away for a moment, deciding to work with the smaller pistols and Ingrams. Inside the building, even something as compact as the colt would be somewhat unwieldy, but more to the point, Xander didn't want the 5.56 NATO rounds going through the walls and hitting someone on the other side.
This one was going to be dangerous enough with adding to the complexity of the situation.
He popped the van door and stepped out into the night, eyeing the target from across the street. There were no guards evident to the casual observer, but Xander knew that they were there. Two on the roof had taken an interest in him when he stopped, and he counted at least one with a rifle in one of the second story windows. This was the site of one of the few drug processing labs the Families owned in the area.
Certainly, the majority of drug trafficking in LA belonged outside the families. Marijuana came from multiple sources, including domestic and foreign places like Mexico. Heroin and it's more exotic variants were primarily imported by the Asian syndicates now, they'd long ago reclaimed their poppy fields from 'foreign investors'. Cocaine and it's sibling poisons were the domain of the Columbians and their South American competitors.
Despite many attempts, according to the literature Xander had stolen, the Families had never really made any inroads in the drug trades. Internal fighting by traditionalists over whether the drug trade was 'moral' had long ago died out, but it was too late now to compete with the established groups on their own territory.
So some genius had come up with the idea for the building Xander now saw in front of him. The Mob's answer to getting high in Hollywood.
Xander crossed the street, heading straight for the building with a small pack in his hand. No one seemed to note his approach, but it didn't matter if they did. By the time they realized something was up, it was going to be too late.
Like the rest of the Families holdings in Hollywood, this building was an attempt to move uptown, despite it's decidedly downtown appearance. A chemist somewhere had developed the mixture dubbed Nirvana by the papers in Xander's possession. A simple enough chemical mix that was kind enough to not show up on any conventional toxin screens, while providing a high similar to the rush of Cocaine.
The chemist in question had also claimed a one hundred percent addiction rate, something Xander didn't believe really. Nothing was ever a hundred percent. But he was certain it was high enough to be dangerous, and he needed another example for the night. So the drug lab was elected.
He stopped at the door, where he was undoubtedly expected to knock. He didn't. Instead he slapped a small metal canister to the door and secured it with duct tape. A few seconds later he was in full retreat as the fuse burned down.
Inside the can was a cobbled together explosive that Xander had made from a few innocuous purchases. It wasn't much, but it was enough, and when the fuse burned down and set off the charge the door shattered under the force and blew inward.
Xander was up and moving before the shock wave was completely passed, heading back for the shattered doorway. He stepped over the rubble, kicking an Uzi away from the unmoving hand of what was left of the Mob's doorman. The two Ingrams filled his fists as he moved through the smoke and carnage, checking the first floor.
The first attack came from a man who obviously wasn't expecting, nor was he prepared, for the danger Xander presented. He never even raised his shotgun as a short buzz from an ingram stitched him from belly to sternum, sending his dancing corpse back into the room he'd come from.
Xander moved over the already cooling body and followed his nose as he moved to the back. The stink of chemicals was already strong enough to make him want to gag so Xander fitted one of the SWAT gas masks he'd bought over his face and kept moving.
The next door was guarded by two thugs who looked altogether too relaxed for people who should have heard the sounds of the explosion and gunfire already. They had guns in their hands and were 'at the ready', but their eyes were glazed and Xander was glad he'd thought to pack a filter for himself.
When the spotted him, Xander fired as they began to react. The 9mm rounds drew a jagged line across the wall, door, and both guards. As they fell he tested the door.
It was open.
Inside the large room there were men in white suits wearing smaller filters then Xander. They all looked up in surprise and shock as he appeared in the room, twin submachine guns smoking in his hands.
None of them were armed, so far as Xander could see, so he just growled at them. "Out!"
They moved. Fast.
As the room cleared Xander examined the chemical equipment briefly, but quickly decided that he didn't know squat about any of it. That was more Willow's thing then his.
His heart skipped a moment as the clenching pain formed in him again, but Xander beat it down as he pulled another homemade bomb from his pack. He located a tank of chemicals marked as 'explosive' and 'flammable' and set the device by the valve of the tank. He'd already lit the fuse when a sound from behind him caused Xander to spin around, the Ingram in his right hand seeking the source of it as his finger whitened on the trigger.
Only to find himself staring at the face of a five year old girl.
Xander froze, eyes bulging behind the mask as part of him rebelled at what he saw. Nobody would be so inhuman as to expose a child to the fumes in this place. No One.
It was the continuing sizzle of the explosive fuse behind him that snapped Xander out of it. He lunged across the room, barely snagging the girl as she tried to recoil from him. He dragged her out by the arm, quickly hefting her into his arms. "Don't worry. I'm not going to hurt you."
She shook in his arms, but didn't say anything as Xander moved to the door. At the threshold of the lab though, he heard her small voice.
"What about the others? Are you going to hurt them?"
"Others?" Xander paled under the gas mask.
She nodded. "Upstairs."
Xander cursed, backtracking at a doubletime. He lunged for the fuse of his bomb, yanking it from the can just as it began to burn down. Then he carefully took the bomb off the tank and tossed it aside. Then he got moving again.
<Shit. Shit. Shit.> As calm as he moved and seemed on the outside, inside he was churning. There had been no mention of children in the papers he had, no hint of anyone resembling innocent in the papers. This was supposed to be a drug lab, not a Mob daycare center, or whatever the fuck he'd found.
Another guard appeared ahead of him, but Xander shot him down with a short burst before he could even raise his weapon. Xander wasn't taking chances while he had this package in his arm.
The girl just hugged him tight around the neck as Xander moved back through the first floor of the building, flinching when the snarl of guns erupted around her. Finally Xander got her to the door and set her down, "I need you to go outside and wait. Ok? Go on."
The girl nodded and padded softly outside as Xander stood up and looked around, frowning. Things had just gotten a lot more complicated.
"What the fuck is going on!?"
"How the hell should I know!?"
"Who's doing all that fucking shooting!!??"
"I already told you, Ray, I don't FUCKING know!!"
The two men had met at the top of the second floor stairs, looking around nervously. "Hey... you don't think that shit downstairs is exploding or anything do ya?"
"We'd already be dead, Ray."
"Oh. Cause... you know.. There was an explosion and..."
"I told you. We'd already be dead. Come on, let's get down there and help the guys..."
He never finished his statement as a snarling growl reached his ears, sharp hammer blows of pain joining it a moment later. Ray followed him in his face first tumble down the stairs just seconds later, neither of them even seeing their assailant.
Xander stepped over the bodies and weapons of the two mob goons, continuing to the second floor of the building, now completely uncertain of what he was going to find.
He checked the first couple doors on the floor, but they were empty.
As he moved to number three a guard appeared at a stairwell, already firing from the hip with an AK. Xander threw himself forward, the line of bullets flashing past underneath him as he tracked with both Ingrams and squeezed the triggers.
The line of 9mm rounds started at the gunman's feet and rose, stitching his legs, groin, and torso as Xander fell through the air and hit the ground in a roll. As he came back up the man slid down the wall he'd backed into, crumpling to the ground.
Xander turned and kicked open the third door.
"Oh shit." He whispered a moment later.
Inside were at least a dozen girls of various ages, all huddled in a corner and shaking in fear. Xander froze for a moment, blinking in surprise and shock.
<What the hell??> he shook it off, checking his watch instinctively.
The numbers were falling, and he was running out of time.
He didn't have time to check the rest of the building, so that mean blowing the lab was out of the question. There was no way to tell who else was here, no way to tell how many innocent people he'd almost killed.
Xander fell back from the door, then hesitated. He didn't know what to do suddenly, he was caught between two very bad choices. Leave them here, or try to get them clear. Either case could easily lead to injury or death on their part.
"Phone!" He snapped, "where is it?"
The oldest girl there shook but answered, "We... we're not allowed to have one."
Xander cursed, half turning. There was bound to be a police response, but depending on how well they were bought off it could take too long. That was something Xander had been counting on, actually.
Once again, a plan was running perfectly, and that was the worse thing that could happen.
"Come with me." He ordered the bunch of them. "We're leaving."
He'd half expected them to refuse out of fear, but they seemed almost resigned, as if following orders was something they'd become used to. As the group formed up, Xander caught the eldest by the arm. She looked to be about fourteen.
"Are there any more groups in the building?"
She nodded.
"Where?"
"I... I don't know." She admitted, fearfully. "Upstairs I t... I think."
Xander cursed and she flinched away from him, but he didn't have time to comfort her. He thought fast, <I've cleared the ground floor... no more gunners there. Ok... In for a penny, in for a pound.>
"Take them down the stairs and out the door. There's another little girl there, wait with her. If you have to, hide behind the van across the street. Now go."
Then Xander turned and headed for the next flight of stairs.
Xander paused by the bottom of the stairs, ejecting the mags from both his Ingrams and slapping fresh ones in. Then he stowed the two compact machine pistols, plucking up the AK-47 that the dead guard had dropped.
The mission profile was shot to hell and, while the risk of civilian interaction had gone up, the danger of prolonged fighting was going to outweigh that concern. He ejected the goon's clip and patted the man down quickly, plucking two fresh ones from his pockets, fed one into the AK, then started up the stairs.
At the top of the stairs Xander dropped to one knee as he pivoted out into the hallway, the muzzle of the assault rifle seeking targets as the sound of gunfire erupted around him.
Two goons were firing from the end of the hall, but they were both aiming high, and Xander downed them with two short bursts from the AK from his kneeling position. The rifle was angled up so the 7.62 NATO rounds cut into their targets' throats and faces before tunneling up into the wall behind them high enough not to be any threat to anyone who wasn't a center for the LA Lakers.
The third floor was mostly dark and deserted, doors open and rooms empty. Xander checked them with cursory inspections as he moved toward the door that the two guards had been in front of, but found nothing.
At that door he slid to one side, then tapped the door's center mass with the butt of the rifle. When no response came, he tested the door handle and threw the door open.
Still nothing, so Xander ducked his head around the corner for a second, quickly cataloging what he saw at a glance, then moved in. There were four more kids, all girls, in the room with no obvious exits for anyone to be hiding in. Xander looked them over before motioning to the oldest girl, she looked about ten. "Get the together and follow me."
The girl nodded silently, looking resigned about doing as she was told.
Xander didn't waste time questioning it, for the moment it was to his benefit, but at the same time part of him seethed that the children would do anything they were told. Kids shouldn't be following a complete stranger around.
When the kids got moving, Xander turned around and started to backtrack.
The ringing phone was answered on the first shrill tone this time, the man having been waiting for an important call.
This wasn't it.
"Hello... What? Frankie? What the hell are you talking about? Slow down, frank. Slow the fuck down."
"Someone's doing WHAT??"
"Holy fuck. No I don't want you to get the boys together... I want you to KILL that fucker! I don't give a shit how! Call me back when you're done."
The man hung up the phone and shook his head. "God damned brazen son of a bitch."
Xander herded the kids out the door, urging them to move quickly as he surveyed the street with trepidation. He didn't have any cover the rest of the way to his van, and there were still at least two snipers on the rooftops. In the original plan, that hadn't been a problem since those two men would have been spending all their time trying to get OFF the rooftops. But with the kids here, and the fact that he couldn't be sure that there weren't *more* inside, he couldn't blow the chemicals.
Which meant that there were two very angry snipers on the rooftop, unless they'd been dumb enough to try to come down through the building.
Xander wasn't counting on that kind of luck.
"Go on, move over that way..." He urged the kids, pushing them clear of the fire zone. They obeyed, as before, but with a little more life that seemed to have come into them along with the outside air.
Xander didn't think about , couldn't afford to. Instead he craned his head, looking for either of the men above him that held the rifles that could end his mission prematurely.
<There. Shadow.> Xander lifted the AK and fired a short burst that chewed up the edge of the rooftop with little other effect, but it should have been enough to make the rifleman duck his head. With that Xander broke into a sprint.
The distance across the road was probably less then ten yards. Which was an endless wasteland to cross when someone had a rifle trained on you.
Xander was halfway across when the dual report of rifle fire sounded above him, and the searing flash of pain in his arm told him that someone hadn't missed. He fell forward, his sprint turning into a dive as the AK clattered away and he spun in the air. More shots rang out, but his unpredictable flight made rifle marksmanship iffy at best, and Xander hit the ground hard without any extra holes in him aside from the burning pain in his left arm.
He rolled when he hit and kept on rolling right under the van, another couple shots whining off the pavement and chunking hard into the panel van. Xander kept rolling right out the other side and crawled up onto the curb to find himself looking into the frightened eyes of the first group he'd sent out.
"Stay down." He rasped, pulling himself up and sliding the door of the van open.
As the kids cried softly behind him, Xander plucked the M4 from behind the drivers seat and slowly eased himself between the two seats as he looked up through the glass of the drivers' window. From his makeshift 'hide' Xander quickly spotted the silhouette of the first sniper against the reflection of the city lights on the smog filled sky above.
"Gotcha." He whispered, slowly easing the M4 into place, bracing it against the seat. He caressed the trigger gently, letting off a shirt burst that shattered the glass and ripped into the shadow above.
The slump of the figure was enough to tell him that he'd made his shot, but Xander didn't wait to see it. He was already moving as a series of rifle rounds blew out the windscreen and punctured the roof of the van.
<One more.> He thought, sliding out the door and rolling back under the van. He crawled forward to the front, edging his way out between the two front tires until he could see the second silhouette.
The next burst resulted in a cry of pain, and the clatter of a rifle as it fell to the ground, so Xander paused and waited. When several moments passed with no return fire, Xander rolled back out from under the van and got up quickly.
He still wasn't done here though, he knew. He had to ensure that this lab stayed out of business, it would do him no good if it was back up and running by the next morning. That in mind, Xander dug into the gear he had in the van, the beginnings of an idea coming to mind.
He emerged a few moments later and moved back around the van just as a set of lights fell on him from up the road. He half turned towards them, frowning as he pulled the M4 back into firing position before he'd really thought about it.
As the carbine came up, a flickering of lights and echoes of shots confirmed his instincts as the car started to race towards him, goons firing from the moving vehicle.
Xander didn't move, figuring that with the vehicle accelerating as it was, he was as safe where he was as anywhere else. He just leveled the M4 and returned fire.
The compact weapon bucked in his hands as he guided the fire along the front of the speeding car, the heavy slugs blowing out the lights and piercing to the innards of the vehicle as it rushed along. Finally Xander lowed his aim slightly, pouring the last of his clip into the drivers side tire, blowing it out as the first shots that were even close began to pepper down around him.
The car shook and shivered, then broke into a skid as the driver lost control, finally erupting in a full fledged tumbling roll that ended with the vehicle upside down about thirty yards up the road from Xander's van. Xander eyed it carefully as he ejected the clip and walked around to the back of the van where he opened the doors and retrieved a fresh one for the carbine.
When no movement came from the car, Xander reached into the van and pulled out the two items he hoped would let him finish the mission to his satisfaction. The first, he popped and then chucked underhanded into the open front door of the drug lab. Within moments thick white smoke was pouring from the building as the smoker filled the building with fumes.
No one who had any idea what was in the building was going to go anywhere near it as long as that smoke was pouring out.
For the second phase, just in case the gunfire and billowing smoke wasn't enough, Xander lit several road flares and tossed them up and down the road. It wouldn't take long for someone to see one of the oddities, assuming they hadn't already, and call the fire department, cops, paramedics, and hopefully the news services.
Xander smiled, eyeing the smoke filled building. Maybe it would work out better this way.
The old van had seen better days, Jan Rysher thought to herself as the clunker slid to a stop outside the hospital she worked at. The windows were gone, the paint looked like hell, frankly she didn't know why the cops hadn't yanked it off the road already.
Then the side door opened and Rysher froze in her tracks as a group of young girls poured out in various states o being. They were all dirty, some incredibly so, and none of the looked to be well nourished.
They kept coming out of the van until she had this hysterical image of clowns in a VW beetle flash through her head, but the humor was most certainly not the comforting type.
She took a few steps toward them when a man exited the van and looked at her.
"You a doctor?" The man asked, eyeing her uniform.
She nodded slowly.
"They need help." He said, then he turned and got back in the van.
A few moments later he was gone, the van turning around the corner just up ahead and vanishing into the night. Leaving Jan Rysher with almost 20 young children clustered around her. She hesitated, kneeling down, and spoke as gently as she could. "Could you all come with me? I'm going to get you some help."
Xander pulled the van into an dealership a short ways up the road. The place was closed, but they had several model vans that were close enough to the one he was driving to hide in for a while. He parked the van in a line of several others and slumped against the wheel as he thought about what had almost happened.
If he'd gone with the original plan, he'd have killed eighteen kids. Eighteen innocent kids, who's presence he may never understand even *now*.
His hands started to shake, the adrenaline leaving his system, and he just held tightly to the steering wheel until it was over.
<Eighteen *kids*.> He kept thinking over and over again. <Oh shit.>
"Got another hit."
Fury looked up, "So soon?"
"Looks like." Carter nodded, "LAPD responded to a series of complaints about gunfire, explosions, and such and found a building in the lower east apparently on fire. Our searchers sent it to me because they also found several bodies of known Mafia members in the street... When the Fire department entered the building they discovered that the fire was just a smoke grenade... but what was inside had the PD in an uproar."
"What was it?" Fury asked.
"A drug lab. High end, designer stuff... They've been looking for the source of it for a few months now..."
"What do you think? The kid?"
Sharon nodded. "Definitely. He's making big waves."
Fury nodded, "Yep."
"Is that all you have to say?"
"Yep."
Xander slept in the van through the rest of the night. He'd parked the battered old rig in a beach lot just north of the city, one that he'd noticed had it's share of similar vehicles and sleepers, mostly with surfboards on, in, or around them.
It was a good cover, and by morning the lot was mostly devoid of people as the surfers found their way out onto the water. So he cleaned his guns until about eleven when people started to flow in, managing to get several more weapons to a serviceable condition.
In all he'd added a Remington 30.06, several more pistols and submachine guns, and a surprise prize to his armory. Somehow 'Marvelous Marty' had acquired an M203 grenade launcher and added it to his stock.
Frankly, even Xander found that scary, but for the moment it was also useful. His current selection of 40mm grenades wasn't as useful though, as he was stuck with only a half dozen anti-personnel/fragmentary rounds. Better then nothing, and a hell of a lot more then should exist within city limits, but far short of what Xander wished he had.
Once the people started filling the lot up with movement, Xander started up the old van and pulled out, heading back into the city proper.
"God damn it! Who is this freak!?" Rico Mannelli screamed, throwing his phone across the room.
"We don't know, boss!" One of the messengers cowered away from him. "He just showed up and started shooting the place up!"
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Roco muttered, mocking the hardman. "He just showed up and started shooting the fucking place up... I thought that's what YOU were supposed to be good for!!"
"He took us by surprise, Boss!" The other one defended himself. "He blew in the door with explosives... we was lucky to get out alive!"
"Lucky." Rico growled, "Yeah. So fuckin lucky. You wanna tell me HOW THAT'S LUCKY FOR ME!?"
Neither of the men spoke, and the boss continued to rage for several minutes before calming down slightly.
"Now I've got the cops looking into my buildings, wondering what else may be showing up in them... I've lost over thirty MILLION dollars worth of product, and now I've got the cops breathing up my ass over those goddamned KIDS too!!" The Bos growled, breathing deeply as he sat down. "So why don't you tell me what this guy looked like?"
"Uh..." The two men looked at each other nervously. "We don't know, Boss."
Rico closed his eyes.
"You don't... KNOW?"
"He wore a gas mask boss... like the SWAT guys do on TV."
"You. Don't. KNOW."
"Sorry Boss."
Rico moved like lightning, a big chrome pistol coming up from behind the desk, and two shots boomed out. As the two hardmen fell to the floor, he got up and walked around the desk. "YOU DON'T FUCKING KNOW!?!? SHIT!!"
He hit the buzzer.
"Yah, Boss?" A voice came from the other side.
"Send someone in to clean up my office. I made a mess."
"Right away boss."
This one ran books, at least according to the papers Xander was still using to draw his map of the LA underworld. He had to be more careful this time, though, because as he'd found out the night before these maps were fraught with omissions.
Omissions that could prove lethal, if not to him then to someone else who didn't deserve to catch a bullet for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Which was why he was camped out on the roof of a building, watching the bagman drop off the days receipts with two hulking bodyguards. He'd had a devil of a time identifying the bodyguards for certain, despite the guns they carried, but he'd finally done it, mostly by accident. He'd been following them most of the early afternoon, and had observed one of their other job functions.
Namely that of legbreaker.
In this case, it was a literal job title apparently, as Xander was pretty sure that the unfortunate soul they'd visited would certainly require crutches to move around for a few weeks at least. He didn't know what the man owed, but it was a fair bet it was a good chunk.
According to the newspapers, and a bit of a search at a local library's free internet connection, they were also 'hitmen' who were responsible for the rather public death of a debtor a few months earlier. The police hadn't been able to prove it though, and the files he held weren't quite that complete, so he couldn't be a hundred percent sure on that.
What he did know was that they worked for the man who'd ordered the deaths of his parents, they were part of the same organization that had murdered Willow and tried to kill him, and they had just snapped a man's legs over *money*.
In other words, He knew enough.
He set the high powered binoculars aside and pulled the Remington 30-06 over and placed his right eye to the scope.
In the powerful lense he could almost count the hairs on the big man's balding scalp, and he took a deep breath. He slowly let the wind out of his lungs as the man turned to open the door, then gently squeezed the trigger.
The buck of the rifle jerked him back a little, and Xander rode the force as he worked the bolt and slid another round home.
The first man was still falling when Xander fired again, the second 30.06 round slicing through the air and slapping into his chest like a twenty pound sledge hammer. He was flung back, both by the force of the bullet and by the jerk of his own limbs in response to the pain, and crashed through the glass door.
Screams echoed from the streets as people dove for cover and ran for cars and the protection of buildings, but Xander ignored all of that.
He'd finished what he intended, and was already on the move. He slung the rifle, grabbing his binoculars, and headed to the rear fire escape and the escape route as planned.
<Like I said, you bastards...> He thought coldly to himself. <No more kid gloves.>
It took the police less then five minutes to get the first cruisers on the scene, but by then it was all over except the screaming.
A half hour later, the victims were removed and the detectives checked out the scene with the crime lab boys.
"Found the shooters nest, Sir!"
"Good." Raymond Franks nodded, looking up from the blood spatter pattern he was examining. "Where?"
"The rooftop, right there." The young cop pointed.
"Alright, Detective Lockley and I will check it out. There's a bullet in the wall behind me, dig it out... but don't damage it."
"Yes Sir."
"Shall we?" Franks nodded to the blond detective.
She nodded, "Let's."
On the rooftop they found several crime lab technicians already examining the scene, photographing the placement of the two brass cartridges on the rooftop, as well as something else.
"Well." Franks muttered. "This is new."
"Yeah." Lockley nodded, staring at the chalk outline of a skull that had been drawn into a ventilator exhaust housing.
"You make anything of that, Detective?" Franks asked, stepping back to a tech could get another shot.
Kate shook her head, "I don't know... maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Some rumors are running around the streets..." She said, shaking her head. "They don't make sense... something about a man who came back from the dead, looking for revenge. Even called himself death once. Thing is... this man... he's really dead according to the records."
"This man have a name?"
"Yeah. Alexander Harris." Kate replied dryly, "Maybe you know him better as Alexander Agata."
"Oh shit."
"Hello there, can I help you?"
The Salesman eyed the young man uncertainly, wondering if he was going to have to call security. Finally he decided probably not, but the man certainly needed a shave and some new clothes.
Of course, he had to admit, some of the richest people who walked into his store dressed in the roughest clothes imaginable.
The man looked up finally, as if just noticing him. "Yes actually. I'm in the market for a laptop."
"Well, you came to the right place." The Salesman smiled, slipping into his role now that he understood the situation. "What kind are you looking for?"
"The expensive kind."
"Sir, we got hit again."
Rico Manneli closed his eyes, shaking his head slowly as he slumped a little. "How bad this time?"
"We lost a bag man and one of his bodyguards... The other one is being held by the police now for questioning... they got his package."
"What's the damage?"
"About a quarter mil flat out... but he had his black book too. The cops are probably gonna wind up talking to some of our more... affluent clients."
"Just fucking beautiful." Roci breathed, anger building again. "JUST FREAKING BEAUTIFUL!!"
"Who the fuck did it!?" He growled out.
"No ID this time, Sir... but considering everything that's been happening, well it was probably him."
"Of course it was." Rico muttered. "Fine. You call Calvin Caperelli. You tell him that he's been paid for a job, and he'd better goddamned well FINISH the fucking job! I want him back in town NOW, or I want a contract out on HIM!!"
"Yes Sir."
Xander pulled the old van over to the side of the road, leaving the engine running. He'd waited at the police station for te surviving bodyguard to come out. When the man appeared with his four hundred dollar an hour lawyer, a professional that Xander highly doubted the man could afford on his own, he pulled out into traffic behind them and followed the sedan up into Beverly Hills.
When the car pulled into a drive, Xander kept on going, but marked the address in his mind without so much as slowing.
The papers he'd stolen from the club had given a lot of information, but the identity of the big boss wasn't on the list. He couldn't be sure yet, but he was hoping that he'd just filled in that little omission.
About a mile up the road he pulled over onto a scenic parking place, and tapped a few keys on his new laptop. He quickly brought up a street map, then used the software to overlay the ground contours against the GPS receiver he'd purchased for the system.
He didn't know a lot about computers, but between Will and Miss Calender he knew enough to know what they could do. And he figured he was going to need all the edge he could get.
"Alright. Tell me slowly... What happened?"
"We was just making our delivery Boss... No sign of trouble until Frankie went down..." The hardman muttered, pale and worn. "Didn't even hear the first shot, Boss... it's like everything just went silent or somethin... Then there was another shot, and I heard that... and Eugene went through a glass door..."
Rico closed his eyes, shaking his head. "Why the fuck were you still there when the cops showed up??"
"Boss... they were right around the corner or somethin... I swear... I tried to get out, but there was a crowd of people, and the cops blocked the car in..."
"Fine. Fine." The Boss growled, "Shit. Listen... Dom... Did you see the hitter?"
"No way Boss." Dom shook his head, "Found out after that he was shooting from the rooftop across the way... The cops were buzzin about something he left behind. Talked loose about it..."
"Oh?" Rico leaned forward, "What?"
"A drawing of a Skull on the roof."
The Boss blinked, looking over at two other men in the room who also looked a little lost. "A skull?"
"That's all I know, Boss... A Skull."
There was a long silence before Rico nodded and waved his hand. "Go on... get out of here."
Dom nodded gratefully and backed out of the room doubletime. When the door closed, Rico looked at the other men and let out a breath. "What do you think?"
"I think we got trouble."
"No shit."
"No, I mean real trouble, Sir." The tallest of the two said quickly, "He's stepping up his attacks... He's leaving evidence to connect himself to the hit... he's obviously not interested in the money, he didn't take the bag this time. He's just out to hurt us, Boss."
"He wants Capperelli." Rico objected, "He doesn't care about us."
"Maybe that's how it started, but I'm not so sure anymore." The man responded. "You may be right... But either way, we won't know until he gets the Cap in his sights."
The second man snorted, "Cal will ice this bozo."
"He's missed twice already." The first man responded. "This guy is no joke, Pauly. He survived five shots from that antique gun of Cal's, showed up just over a month later, and started raising hell. He's cost us almost fifty million already. What was the bounty on Agata?"
"Ten Mil." Rico muttered.
"Well, we've paid almost sixty. And I don't think we've finished paying for it yet."
"What the fuck do you want me to do, Tony!?" Richard 'Rico' Mannelli asked, pissed off. "Give him Cal the Cap and hope he goes away?"
"Of course not." The first man muttered disgustedly, walking over to the large picture windows that gave the office a view of the scenic hills. "I'm just saying that you better take him out of play soon... otherwise, he's gonna cost you a lot more then he, Cal the Cap, or even Agata is worth."
Click.
The camera shutter flipped as he stared through the telephoto lens, capturing the image of the three men on the digital CCD. The SLR camera body had set him back three grand, and Xander didn't want to think about the cost of the lenses he'd dropped a few more bundles of cash for.
A couple months ago it would have been utterly unthinkable, today it was easy come easy go. He needed the tools, and the Mob had the money.
He had to admit, he liked the fact that they were bankrolling his mission. It felt... right.
He flipped up the laptop and watched as the photo transferred over. He'd already identified one of the men as Richard Mannelli, film financier and upstanding member of the community. And now, apparently, local mob boss.
He wished he could be sure, though. He needed to see what the local cops knew and thought about the man.
<If only Willow was here.> He thought, his breath catching as it did when he thought her name. He fought off the brief panic attack and packed up his equipment.
His recon was done for the moment, he had a name now.
"... apparent mafia involved shooting downtown today, as a sniper shot and killed two suspected underworld figures in cold blood. The victims were well known figures in the numbers operations of the LA underworld, and one of them was a suspect in the high profile death of a man last month. Police had little to say on the subject, but this reporter has heard rumors that Alexander Agata, believed to be dead, *is* considered to be a suspect in this attack..."
"ANGEL!!" Cordelia Chase screamed.
Angel rushed into the room, Giles, Buffy, and Joyce not far behind, "What?? Who's attacking?? Is Doyle having a...??"
Cordy pointed at the screen wordless, then waved her other hand at him to shut up.
"At this point it's only rumors, however, if true, it's a dangerous escalation in Agata's previous motions. For those of you not familiar with the case, Alexander Agata stood witness to the mob related killings of his parents and childhood friend, a case in which the Jury returned a not guilty verdict in only days ago. Shortly after court was adjourned, an explosion destroyed Agata's protected apartment and he was presumed dead. Only minutes ago, authorities finally confirmed that his body was not recovered."
"Oh my god." Buffy whispered in shock.
"Once again, two are dead from an unknown sniper today in downtown Los Angeles. More information will follow as we receive it."
Cordy clicked the TV off as it switched over to a commercial for feminine products, then turned to the others. "He's still alive."
"And knee deep in hell." Angel replied. "He shot two people today. At least."
"But he's alive." Cordy said, taking a breath. "My God... What's happened to us?"
Buffy shook her head, "I don't know, Cordy. I... I just don't know. It's hard to believe that just a few months ago we were facing the Mayor and... and now..."
"And now, Xander is a wanted man." Giles said into the silence. "And I'm afraid that there is very little we can do to aid him."
"He can't abandon him, Giles!" Buffy exclaimed.
"You don't have a choice now, Buffy." Angel said quietly. "He's gone over the line. If he's the one behind this, and it goes public... and it will go public if he is... then he's committed."
Angel shook his head, then sat down heavily. "Truth is... even if he didn't do this... if he's still alive, he's still committed. The Mob will never let him go now, even if they would have before. They'll get him eventually..."
"No... No! I... We have to do something..."
"If he comes to us for help... we can help... or not." Angel shrugged. "Beyond that? Unless you're planning on joining him, Buffy... He's flying solo from here on out."
The room fell into silence as everyone looked at each other uncomfortably but didn't know what to say.
Finally, Cordelia Chase got up and walked out.
The sun was rising behind him, showing up the outline of the mountains on the lightening sky as Xander flipped the cap off the hi powered scope and looked down at the compound below.
He'd gone into town the day before and picked up a few things to balance out his kit, and enough food to last a couple days, then snuck back into place under cover of night. His van was parked below, actually within a few hundred feet of his target while he sat in the brush almost three hundred yards further out.
His brief check of the pictures from the day before had been profitable, quickly giving him a name to the other man in Mr Manneli's home. Anthony Garro, a noted mob figure from Chicago, currently wanted in that city on a series of homicides longer then Xander's arm.
That, combined with the mention of Manneli's name in the papers he'd stolen from the club, confirmed what he'd already known. The mansion below was Mob Central as far as Hollywood went, and Richard Manneli was the rot at the center of the apple.
He's almost cut that rot out three times already this morning, it turned out that Mannelli was an early riser, but he needed the man for something else.
Manneli was the fisherman looking to hook his catch, and Xander was hoping he'd use the same hook he'd used before.
Calvin Capperelli.
Unfortunately for Mannelli, Xander had no intention of playing the dumb trout. Oh, he'd take the bait alright, if it was presented. But he wasn't playing the part of a trout.
Xander's lips curled slightly as he hunkered down into the brush a little more, his black clad back disappearing into the cover.
Xander Harris was through playing the dumb fish.
Let's see how these bastards handle hooking a shark.
Calvin Capperelli spat on the ground as he looked down the hills at the Los Angeles skyline once again. A few months ago, it had been a beautiful scene. It had meant the completion of a twenty year old open contract, ten million dollars in the bank, and a life the likes of which most people could only dream.
Now?
Not he was a hounded man. He still had the money, most of it, but he couldn't hope to spend it if he didn't get the bastard who was on his trail. The kid he had already killed, twice.
<How did he survive that explosion??> The man known as Cal the Cap asked himself for the hundredth time. It should have killed a hundred bastards like him. There was simply no way he should have walked away from it.
No more then he should have walked away from five rounds of .45ACP fired from Cal's tommygun.
And yet the bastard was still alive. Still out there. Still hunting.
Hunting Calvin Capperelli.
Xander watched the sun go down over the Los Angeles skyline, a stunning array of colors and sparkling beauty from the Pacific ocean, and didn't really notice any of it.
He'd been laying still in the brush of the hilltop for over ten hours, watching the grounds of Richard Manneli's Beverly Hills mansion through the 20X magnification of the scope, at least until the sun had crossed over head and started to drop down in front of him.
He'd been forced to cap the scope about six hours previously, relying on a pair of low profile binoculars with a glare blocking grill built over the lenses. They gave a wider range of vision then the scope, but weren't quite as powerful.
In that time he'd still not seen anything to tell him one way or another if he was even on the right path.
Richard Mannelli had come up clean on every search that Xander was capable of checking, and the media, in fact, seemed to love the man.
But he had been meeting with a Mob crony. More then a meeting, if Xander had read the meet right, in fact. It had looked much more like... and audience.
<Another day.> Xander decided. <Then I'll blitz a few more addresses from those papers. See if I can't shake something, or someone, else loose. One more day.>
So he settled in, getting as comfortable as he could without moving more then a quarter inch or so, and watched as the sun finished going down and the lights of Mannelli's compound came on. When the sun was nothing more then a fading light on the horizon, he set aside the binoculars and slid the rifle up from where he'd covered it under the makeshift ghillie camouflage he'd made. He moved slowly, popping the lense cap up and sliding the rifle forward until it was in position.
Then he settled in once more, letting his cheek rest on the padded stock of the Remington 700 as his right eye looked through the powerful scope and started sweeping the compound again.
Cal the Cap stared at the dark iron gates that marked the border over into, what was now, hostile territory. A few months ago, he'd crossed this gates the victorious warrior returning from battle. Now he was disgraced, and if he wasn't careful, Cal knew that'd he shortly be dead. Either by that damned upstart, Agata, or by his own bosses.
The gate opened.
Cal drew a breath, trying not to look like he did, and stepped through.
"Boss wants to see ya, Cap."
Cal repressed a grimace at the almost mocking tone the guard used. The fear and awe in the voice was gone now, but Calvin remembered the last time he'd been here. Oh yes. He remembered.
He'd teach that smug bastard the fear again.
But in the meantime.
"Right." He answered, not even looking at the guard as he marched through and headed up to the house.
Xander couldn't believe it at first.
He cursed, almost pinching himself as he watched the hated face appear in his scope, blinking just for a second as the man crossed the lawn.
His finger tightened reflexively on the trigger, but he was just a moment too late, and Calvin Capperelli vanished just as suddenly as he appeared.
Xander stared for a long moment, not quite believing what he'd just seen.
<Shit!> His eyes widened as he realized he'd just let his shot slip through his fingers, then his lips curled up again and showed his white teeth.
It was better this way.
No bullet from four hundred yards for this one.
Cal the Cap was going to face this shark.
Xander rose from his cache and slid down the hill he was perched on, breaking into a loping run as he moved through the brush and grass toward his target.
<I'm coming for you, you bastard.>
"Calvin."
"Sir." Cal swallowed, not letting any anger show at the man's tone.
One didn't act cocky with the Boss of California. At least not when one was in disgrace and probably was living under borrowed time.
"You fucked up, Cal." Mannelli said flatly, not looking back at the assassin.
Cal licked his lips slowly, nodding reluctantly. "Yes Sir."
Admit guilt, at least when you don't have any other option. Sometimes they'd give you a chance to make it up to them.
Sometimes.
"Someone is going to die here, very soon." Mannelli said, finally turning around.
Cal paled slightly, but stared resolutely back at the blank faced man.
"You get a chance few people ever get, Calvin." Mannelli said slowly. "You get to choose if that person is you."
Calvin nodded reflexively, jerkily, as he felt a chill of fear run through him even as his mind sighed in relief. He was to be given a chance then.
"You get him." Richard Mannelli said coldly. "You get him, or he gets you. Any other outcome, and you're a marked man. Understand me?"
"Y... Yes Sir."
"Make sure that you do." Mannelli snarled. "Because I'm through shitting around with you, Capperelli. If anyone... ANYONE but you kills this fucker, you're a dead man. If one of my guys gets him, you're dead. If a cop gets him, you're dead. If he trips on a rock and breaks his fucking NECK, I'm going to break YOURS. You kill him. Or you start running. Got me?"
"Got you, Sir."
Mannelli nodded slowly, turning back around. "Get out of my sight."
Capperelli nodded and backed out of the room as quickly as he could.
"Hey! Fucking wake up, you dumb shit!"
The guard snorted and shook himself, "Aww cut it out, Mike. For fuck sakes, I'm not asleep."
"You fucking look like it. Jesus, you know what's going on. Look alert, fer Christ Sakes."
"Yeah yeah, right." The Guard shook his head and got up, walking out to the front gate.
"Shit. You'd think the devil himself was in town." He muttered to himself as he approached the guard house. As he stepped up to it he waved to the guard inside, "Hey Andy. You got a smoke?"
"Yeah, sure... here." Andy handed the pack over, then passed his lighter along as well.
Mike grinned as he accepted the pack and slid one out, hooking it in his lips and talking while the smoke bobbed with the motions of his mouth. "Hey, didja see the look on the Cap's face when he stepped in here? Ha! That bastard's on the hotseat this time."
Andy nodded, turning half around as he heard a slightly noise. He didn't see anything, so he looked back. "Yeah. Poor bastard."
Mike snorted, "Dumb bastard. He shoulda been more careful is all. Leaving the Agata kid alive was just stupid."
"Yeah." Andy grunted again, frowning as he heard the noise again. He turned back around.
"Hey man, what the fuck are you lookin at?"
"I dunno... I thought I heard somethin."
Mike rolled his eyes, "There ain't nothin there. You think anybody's stupid enough to break into *this* house?"
"The Agata kid..." Andy started.
Mike snorted, cutting him off. "This place is a fucking fortress. He ain't coming here."
"You got that half right." A cold voice whispered from above them.
Both men started, turning around suddenly to face the guardhouse behind them. They looked upward reflexively, just in time to see a blur of black and white flash through the air.
"I'm not coming here..." Xander Harris snarled as he threw himself through the air, "I've already arrived.
Mike started to yell out, but a sudden pressure in his chest caused him to look down in time to see the heavy pommel of a blade sticking out of the right side of his chest. When he tried to yell out a second time, nothing but a bubbling gurgle came out.
He half turned as his legs turned to jello, eyes widening as he saw Andy crumple to the ground, an ugly crimson smile marking him from ear to ear.
Then the world went black and Mike didn't think about yelling anymore.
Xander straightened from the two bodies, leaving their guns where they'd fallen. The grounds were laid out around him, beckoning him in with the cold invite of a baited trap.
Xander knew it, and he was still going in.
This trap wasn't lain for him specifically, but it may as well have been, on this night at least. After all, they had the perfect bait to bring him in.
Cal the Cap.
Chum in the water for this shark.
Xander smiled grimly as he slid forward through the night, maneuvering through the shadows that were thrown about by the pool of lights that half lit the immaculate grounds.
Calvin Capperelli wiped the sweat from his brow as he left the boss's office. He didn't need this shit. He was one of the top hitmen in the entire fucking country for Christ sakes! And here he was reduced to running for his life, hoping against hope that it would be his bullet that ended the life of this Agata mother fucker.
As he walked through the mansion, Cal the Cap surreptitiously nudged the comforting weight of his .40 Smith as it nestled under his arm. If the Boss decided he was going to die, then Calvin knew that he was as good as dead, but he'd lay out the first dozen bastards that tried around him as he went.
Xander slid through the shadows of the rich grounds easily as a wraith, slipping from one dark patch to another as he made his way closer to the impressive home that housed the object of his obsession.
There were guards located all through the area, but they were incompetent.
While Xander was certain that they would be quite effective at street level bullying, and basic leg breaking, the man inside couldn't have hired a more incompetent group of guards.
He ducked two of them by slipping behind some bushes as they walked past him, chatting about the days results at the track. He avoided another when a whiff of tobacco carried on the wind, causing him to glance up and spot the soft red glow of a cigarette in the distance. At the house, he had almost reached the door when another happened on his position, coming out the side door.
Xander and the guard stared at each other for a split instant, and it was Xander who moved first.
He spun quickly, chopping a ridge hand into the guards throat, then grabbed him and covered his mouth as he keeled over. His left hand free, Xander yanked a SAS style dagger from his leg, the carbon steel flashing in his hand as he flipped it up and over in his hand, then brought it stabbing down into the base of the man's skull with a vicious smash.
The already dead body hit the ground with a boneless thud and Xander left it where it fell with the black pommel of the dagger sticking out of the base of it's skull.
He had something more important to deal with.
Caperrelli stopped at the front door, something not feeling right to the experienced hitter. Something about the night outside didn't sit well with him, and he was a man who had long ago learned to listen to his instincts.
He closed the door behind him, and looked around the immaculate grounds with a keen eye. Something wasn't right, but he'd be damned if he could put his finger right one it. It was just floating around past his conscious mind, and yet it was strong enough to put him on guard.
"Hey!" He snapped, jerking up one of the thugs the boss used as guards short.
"Whaddya want, Cap?" The thug asked, sounding irritated.
"Get your ass over here, fuck wit." Calvin snarled, fixing the leg breaker with a glare that put a shot of fear into the other man.
The legbreaker stiffened, but followed orders. "What is it?"
Cal smiled at him, a nasty grimace that had no assurance of anything but future pain in it, and waved around the grounds. "Where is everyone?"
"What?" The man asked, stupidly in Cal's opinion.
"You one of those retards, boy?" Calvin asked nastily, "Where the fuck are the guards at the gate??"
The thug looked down to the gate dumbly, then shrugged. "Dunno."
Cal rolled his eyes and slapped the man on the back of the head. "Then find out you fuckin moron!"
With that Cal the Cap turned and went back into the mansion.
Xander pressed himself against a wall as a thug marched past the door he was standing beside, making no effort to actually look around himself as he 'patrolled' the halls. Xander pulled a Berretta from his hip, the nine millimeter pistol fitting his hand nicely as he drew out a matching accessory from his leg pouch.
He screwed the silencer onto the threaded barrel of the 93R and flipped the selector on the mini-machine pistol to semi-automatic as he edged out from the room he was hiding in and made his way through the halls toward the back office that he had scouted with the rifle scope. He hoped that Capperelli would be in the head honcho's office, and if he wasn't, then he'd make the head honcho the target.
Either the honcho would give up Cal, or his death would shake the tree right down to the roots.
The way Xander was feeling at that moment in time, he didn't much care which one.
Either way, Justice may have failed him but he would find his own justice. This night, or another.
It was only a matter of time.
One way, or the other.
Xander smiled thinly as he found two huge oak doors and knew that he was at his target.
Heaven or Hell, Victory or death. Xander Harris wasn't interested in half measures any more.
When the door opened, Richard Manelli looked up in annoyance. No one disturbed him without some advance warning, the last one who had was missing the hand he'd used to open those doors.
But when a young man slid inside, dressed in heavy combat gear and carrying more ordinance then a large segment of Mannelli's own guard force, Richard knew that something was seriously wrong.
"Who are you?" He snapped, anger and confidence filling his every motion, word, and expression. He noted the silenced pistol in the man's hand and leaned back as he casually slid his hand along his desk.
The nine millimeter round bored a hole though the shoulder of his chair, actually jerking Mannelli around as the chair pivoted under him.
"None of that." The man said evenly, waving the pistol softly.
Richard pulled his hand back and reevaluated the figure in front of him.
"You're fuckin Crazy." He told him in no uncertain terms, fear and stress bringing out his street origins as his accent reverted. "No one does this to me. No one."
"Call me no one then." The man said as he stepped closer. "You give me what I want, and I'll leave without putting holes in anymore of your furniture... or anything else."
"What do you want?" Richard Mannelli asked, eyes flicking toward the hidden wall safe. He kept three quarters of a million dollars in cash, but only a total lunatic would try to rob him.
"Calvin Capperelli."
So, of course, a total lunatic was what he got.
<Shit.> Richard cursed inwardly, slumping a little as he once more re-evaluated the figure in front of him. Finally he spoke up, "You just missed him."
"Where'd he go?" The man's voice was quiet, but Mannelli could hear him quite clearly.
Richard shrugged, "Don't know for sure. I sent him out to kill you. You are Agata's boy, right?"
"That's right." Alexander Agata replied calmly. "So why don't you tell me where he is so he can try to close that contract."
Mannelli actually laughed slightly, "Wish I could. Frankly, at this point I don't much care which of you kills the other. But you, kid, you're a dead man either way. You know that right? You've made too much trouble for the Families."
"I'm twice dead already." Alexander said with a flat voice. "Heaven doesn't want me, and Hell is just going to have to wait it's turn."
Mannelli's blood ran cold at the tone, and he watched as the gun rose until he was looking right down it's barrel.
"If you don't know where he is, then I've got no use for you."
"Hey now, wait a second!" Mannelli held up his hands, "Look, we can cut a deal here..."
The kid raised an eyebrow, "What kind of deal?"
"I can get the contract pulled, kid." Richard said quickly, "Hell, truth is no one really wanted to put that contract out anyway... Yer old man didn't give the families any choice! Work for us, kid... I can use someone like you."
Xander shook his head as a humorless smile appeared on his face and he started to chuckle.
"What are you laughing at??" Richard demanded. "I'm serious, kid! You've got some serious balls... I could make you a rich man."
"I'm laughing because I can't fucking believe that you're what I've been saving this planet for." Xander said softly, his voice bitter. "I should've let the vamps fuckin win."
Mannelli frowned, puzzled. "Huh? What are you talking about, kid?"
Xander shook his head, "Nothing. And you've got nothing to offer me."
"Your life, kid! I'm offering you your life!"
"I told you. I'm twice dead already." Xander told him dully. "Cal the Cap took my life, then he took my death. So tell me where he is so I can return the favor."
Xander raised the pistol.
Beads of sweat formed on Richard's forehead, "I don't know! He just left before you came in! I swear!"
"Pity." Xander told him as he squeezed the trigger and sent a trio of bullets into the man's skull.
As the Mob Boss slumped forward over his desk, Xander holstered the 9mm and stepped forward. He pushed the body back in his chair, then quickly rifled the man's desk for papers. Finding nothing of particular interest, Xander kicked the chair over and stepped over it to get to the filing cabinets against the far wall.
He didn't have much time, but he couldn't give up any shot at Calvin Capperelli.
Calvin moved through the halls with nerves on edge, not knowing exactly why, but knowing that he didn't like it. His .40 smith was seated firmly in his hand as he made his way back to the boss's office, and he had no intention of putting it away until the feeling passed.
It was at the door when he heard the almost inaudible sound of a silenced weapon firing that he knew without a doubt that his insticts had served him well once more.
The Hitman paused at the door, listening carefully for any hint of what was happening inside.
He heard a bit of a racket a second later, something heavy hitting the floor, and something hard clattering about. Then it went quiet again and he heard nothing.
Calvin slowly pushed the large door open, one eye pressed to the crack as he scanned the room.
There was no immediate sign of the boss, but a familiar figure was standing near the records cabinent and Calvin Capperelli growled almost inaudibly as he recognized the person.
He lifted the pistol up and pressed it carefully through the crack as he drew a bead on the figure and waited for the moment. That one instant when he knew the shot was his. He let out all the breath he had as his eyes fixated on the figure he had already killed.
Then Calvin Capperelli squeezed the trigger and the man dropped like a brick and it was over.
Cal the Cap was still on top.
The flash of pain hit him before the report of the pistol and Xander felt himself snapped off his feet as he was bodily slammed against the cabinet, his head bouncing off the metal case before he collapsed in a boneless pile to the floor.
<Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!> Xander cursed himself as he lay on the ground and tried to get himself under control.
He blinked, fighting back the searing pain and the smell of burning flesh as he slowly turned his head around and looked toward the door. He had to look under the huge oak desk, but could see the feet approaching clearly enough as his hand unleathered the Berretta as he fought to keep his mind focused on the approaching target.
The 'phut' of the silenced pistol sounded oddly out of place to Calvin Capperelli's ears, but no more so then the sudden crippling pain that filled his leg as he felt himself pitch forward.
He hit the desk, clambering for control, and kicked off the ground with his good foot ust as he heard another series of silenced shots.
<Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!> He cursed mentally, rolling around and scattering the papers and knick-nacks to the floor.
He slid over the desk, risking a quick move over the edge, and fired two shots into the prone body behind the desk. He just had time to realize that he'd just shot the boss when a blur of motion caused his eyes to flicker over, barely in time to see the muzzle of a lethal little pistol track upward, the hated face of his quarry glaring at him from behind it's iron sights.
Calvin ducked back as the weapon chuffed out it's death knell, the whine of the subsonic bullets whipping past his ear as he threw himself prone against the desk.
Three smacks sounded through the room and he felt the desk shudder under him.
<Shit!>
Xander groaned softly from the pain, knowing that he'd missed his target again, and put three rounds into the desk in the hopes of nailing the bastard through the wood.
No such luck. The heavy Oak desk held up admirably to the 9mm rounds, and Xander could hear a dry rasping chuckle come from up above.
"Oh, you're good, kid. I'll give you that." Cal the Cap told him while Xander took advantage of the moment to check the source of the pain in his side with his free hand.
"And you must have nine fucking lives too."
Xander's hand came away crimson with blood and he took a breath, trying to judge the severity of the wound.
"So how we going to do this, Kid? You wanna take me in again?" Cal asked tauntingly.
His lung wasn't punctured, Xander was pretty sure of that, but the bullet had gone in just under his armpit and definitely crack a rib or two in the process. He ran his hand under the vest he was wearing and winced as he found the exit wound on the underside of the vest.
"No?" Cal's voice asked, chuckling. "Some situation this, huh? Come on, kid... talk to me..."
Xander winced as he burnt his finger pulling the flattened slug out from under his vest. He flipped the offending piece of copper and lead around for a moment, then tossed it away. "We got nothing to talk about Cal."
"You still pissed about that whore I iced kid?" Cal asked, chuckling nastily. "Damn, I could buy you fifteen like her."
Xander felt the rage welling up in him again and he snapped the pistol up and fired off another series of rounds into the desk, cursing in frustration when they didn't penetrate.
Calvin Capperelli smirked nastily as he lay flat out on the desk, feeling the vibrations through the wood as the boy fired shots uselessly into it. If he could get the kid to empty his gun, then he'd have him.
"Touchy Touchy," Calvin said nastily. "A split tail's a split tail, kid. Nothing to get worked up about. New one'll be along any minute now."
Another series of shots slapped into the desk and Calvin heard the sound he'd been waiting for.
A slide locking back.
"Gotcha kid." He snarled, rolling over and swinging his gun down to finish the damned kid once and for all.
Only to be thrown back by another searing pain to his shoulder as the boom of an unsilenced .40S&W filled the room.
"I've got a backup, asshole." He heard the kid say as the bullet filled his shoulder with a white hot blossom of agony.
Calvin Capperelli moved on instinct grabbing up anything he could on the table and throwing it over at his target as he jumped off, grinding his teeth in agony as his leg threatened to give out under him, and ran for the door.
Xander put his arm up despite the lancing pain that threatened to make him black out, blocking the debris from hitting his face as he tried to draw a bead on the fast moving Cal the Cap.
"Son..!"
Boom.
Wood splintered and tore as the .40S&W round spat from the Para-Ord pistol in Xander's hand, just missing the dodging target by inches.
"Of A...!
Boom.
The next round tunneled through the door frame as Cal the Cap grabbed for the door, flinching away from the splinters that dug into his face.
"Bitch!"
Xander finished his epithet with gusto as he threw up his gun hand in disgust and struggled to his feet despite the pain in his chest.
"Not that easy, you bastard." Xander muttered, groaning in pain as he levered himself up and stumbled toward the door.
"Do you fucking HEAR ME!? NOT THAT EASY!!"
Calvin's blood ran cold as he heard the scream follow him down the hallway. The kid was coming right along behind him, no doubt about that, and he wasn't exactly moving at much of a pace.
Cal the Cap tried to remember the layout of the place as he limped down the hall, trailing blood the whole way.
<Where the *fuck* are the guards!?> He screamed internally, then started to scream out loud. "Guards! GUARDS! Agata's in HERE you fucking MORONS!!"
Xander shoved the door open, grunting with the effort and stumbled out into the hallway.
Cap was long gone from his sight, but the blood trail on the ground was clear as day so Xander kept moving. The way Capperelli was injured, he figured that the bastard wasn't going to be moving to damned fast at all.
The yelling took him by surprise a short while later, but he just grimaced and shook it off. Why he was surprised, Xander didn't know. It was the smart thing to do, he grudgingly admitted. The Cap didn't give a damn about a fair fight, he just wanted Xander dead.
It wasn't personal to him.
Xander ground his teeth and kept moving, leaving a trail of blood against the wall as he fell against it from time to time.
<Well it's personal to me.>
Calvin stumbled through a door, hitting the ground painfully as his leg gave out again, but rolled with it as he skidded across the bare cement. He looked around, realizing that he'd stumbled into the back of the garage.
He cast about, looking for something to replace his lost Smith, then froze as he heard the crack of a gunshot from the hallway.
Calvin Capperelli grabbed the first thing at hand, a nearly full gallon of pain, and flung it straight at the door as it was shoved open. Then he turned and ran as best he could for the door to the exterior.
A solid smashing weight struck him in the armored chest as Xander shoved the door open, lifting him clear off his feet and sending him back onto the ground as he felt a cascade of thick liquid splash over him. It stung as it poured over his wound, and Xander barely closed his eyes in time to avoid being blinded.
He hit the ground hard, the lance of pain paralyzing him for a second before he groaned and rolled to one knee.
He brought his hands up and wiped his face clean as he blinked and looked down at himself in disgust.
His chest was covered with white paint, and he looked like a goddamned target.
<Great.> Xander thought in disgust as he forced himself up. "Just fucking great."
He groaned as his arm objected to the movement, but didn't stop as he pushed himself through the door and followed his target out into the garage.
The blood trail was obvious, leading toward a door to the right, so Xander steadied himself and checked his pistol before going on.
Outside, Cal had found the guards.
"He's right behind me!" He snarled. "In about thirty fucking seconds he's gonna come out that door... Get ready!"
The five men nodded nervously as they lined up in a semi circle at the door and lifted their weapons.
Cal grabbed a pistol from the holster of one of them, snarling. "Hold until you see his fucking eyes."
Xander hit the door hard, stumbling as the pain in his chest caused his eyes to water again. He cursed roughly, barely able to think past the moment, and threw the door wide.
And found himself staring at six guns.
<Oh.>
"Fire!!"
"Shit." Xander said out loud as six guns opened up on him and he was lifted clean off his feet and thrown back into the garage as the door closed shut on it's spring hinge behind him.
As the door slammed back five of the men cheered.
"We got the bastard!"
As they were laughing, Cal the Cap shifted his weight solidly to his uninjured leg and winced as he rubbed the shoulder wound. Finally he waved his gun at the door. "Check it out."
"Huh?" One of them said.
"Just go check the body. Make sure he doesn't need one more between the eyes." Cal said casually. "Fuckin kid's got nine lives."
The five of them looked to the door slowly, a hint of fear entering their eyes again.
"Why don't you do it?" One of them ventured.
Calvin Capperelli sighed, leveled his pistol at the man, and fired.
As the lifeless body dropped he looked at the others, "Do I LOOK like I'm in a mood to be walking anywhere but the fucking hospital??"
The remaining four shook their heads, their guns pointing straight up. "Umm No Sir, Mr Cap."
"Then check the fucking body."
Xander groaned as he lay on the ground, eyes all but crossed from the splitting pain in his chest. He brought his hand up and patted down the heavy assault vest he wore, feeling out the flattened bullets that were embedded in the material.
<Eight... Nine.. Ten... Eleven...> Xander stopped counting as his breath started to come back, albeit with splitting pains each time he drew air in.
He lifted his head and looked down at his paint covered hand and blinked.
<Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.> He cursed himself again, flinching suddenly as a shot fired from outside. He clutched around desperately, looking for his gun as the door rattled a bit, then started to open.
His hand closed on the butt of his second .40S&W Para-Ord, pulling it clear of the holster as the first gun came through the cracked open door.
"Oh well." He whispered, dropping the tritium sights of the Para-Ord between the eyes of the hardman who had come through the door.
The powerful pistol's report echoed through the garage as the Mob peon's head snapped back and he vanished back outside.
"Better lucky then good." Xander said, painfully rolling under cover.
A few seconds later a hail of gunfire ripped the door to shreds, sending lethal projectiles whining through the garage.
They all jumped when the shot went off, but no so much as the poor bastard who had stuck his head in the garage. He was thrown back out into the yard, his limp body falling into the startled arms of one of his comrades.
The man gaped in shock at his dead friend, then dropped him reflexively as he jumped back.
"Holy shit!"
Calvin Capperelli looked around in stunned disbelief. "Is this fucking kid HUMAN??"
Before the others could say anything, Calvin lifted his pistol and pointed it at the door, aiming at a downward angle. "Fucking DIE Already!!"
As he started shooting the three remaining guards did the same, reflexively opening fire with their entire clips as they sought to kill the man who just wouldn't die.
After a moment the shots started to peter out and the three surviving guards looked at each other in nervous confusion.
"Did we get him?" One ventured.
The other two just shrugged.
Behind them they heard a slide of metal on metal, and the click of a slide locking back. The turned their heads slowly to see Cal the Cap holding his gun on them and smiling.
"Why don't you three go find out?"
The glanced at each other, but didn't see anyway out. After a short while, Cal cocked the hammer back and glared at them.
"Ok ok, man!" one held up his hands. "We're going, we're going!"
The door opened quickly this time, with no one standing in the frame. For a moment nothing happened, then first one appeared, followed by two others. They came in with SMGs at ready arms as they scanned the room.
"You see anything?" One of them hissed.
"No. Shut up." Was the reply.
They came in slowly, one by one, scanning the room with their gun points as they searched for their target. One of them lifted a hand and waved, "You check over that way. I'm going to check behind the Ferrari. Paulo... stay by the door and cover us."
"Y...y...yeah, sure Tony... Whatever you say man."
Two of them broke off from the other and moved slowly through the garage.
"I got nothin here!"
"Same over here." The one called Tony replied from where he stood by the Ferrari. They looked around slowly, then one by one shrugged.
"He must have gotten out through the back." Tony said finally, his gun dropping.
The others breathed a sigh of relief and similarly relaxed.
Which was when it all went to hell.
Xander let go of the beam he was holding onto, dropping down a few feet from the door with his pistol in hand.
His chest as a blaze of fiery agony as he hit the ground with flexed legs, but he ignored it as he brought his Para-Ord up and leveled it at the man over by the red ferrari and put two bullets through his teeth.
Before the other two could react, Xander shifted and dropped the hammer on the one who was checking the other side of the garage. Three rounds this time, hammering into the thug from stem to sternum and slamming him back against the polished white wall.
The third was just starting to react as that happened, but Xander moved faster as he pivoted hard and smashed the but of the Para-Ord into his teeth. Before the man could even start to feel the real pain of what Xander had just done, he'd grabbed him and pulled him off balance into a hip throw that lifted him clear off his feet.
Then Xander just swung around a hundred and eighty degrees and slammed him head first into the heavy wooden door that separated him from Cal the Cap.
Cal jumped back in shock as the door exploded into splinters, one of the men he'd sent in coming back out head first. His eyes tracked the figure as he hit the ground, and Cal pivoted to follow him with the gun on reflex. In an instant he realized his mistake and swung back, but by then the moment was gone and he found himself staring at the kid he'd been tasked to kill.
For a long moment the two stared at each other, their guns leveled and the silence hanging like a tangible thing between them.
Finally, Cal spoke. His voice, always a little high pitched, held none of the cool contempt that he normally took pride in. Instead he heard himself speak with a trembling tenor that annoyed him on some level.
"Y... you're one fucking hard to k... kill bastard. You know that, kid?"
The Agata kid just stared at him, not saying anything as his eyes bored straight into Cal's soul.
"S... Stalemate, huh kid?" Cal said after a moment.
Still nothing.
"I... I mean, you can't shoot me or I'll shoot you too... You... you don't want to die do ya kid?" Cal knew that he was babbling now, but couldn't help it. The kid's eyes were unnerving, and there was something visceral about the white smear surrounded by the black combat gear that dug into his psyche.
He watched as the kid's pistol started to tremble and thought of the last time they had met, and knew that he had a chance. The kid didn't have it in him. Cal could talk his way out of this.
"C... Come on kid..." Cal went on, forcing a smile. "You ain't really gonna die just for revenge are ya? I thought you was smarter then that..."
Xander stared at the man he had hated for what seemed like an eternity, the hate and rage filling him up inside, warming him against the cold he felt whenever he awoke now. He stared at the trembling figure, and remembered the smirking bastard that had shot his Mom, and his Dad, and his Willow.
The fury was nearly blinding in that moment and his pistol hand began to tremble with the force of it.
Then Calvin Capperelli said his final words.
"C... Come on kid..." Cal went on, forcing a smile. "You ain't really gonna die just for revenge are ya? I thought you was smarter then that..."
Xander considered those words, thinking back to his maybe dream with Willow and Jessie.
Was he going to die for revenge? Was he really willing to die for the hatred? The fury? Was his hatred of Calvin Capperelli worth that cost.
No.
Xander felt the hatred flow out of him, leaving him feeling calm. The tremble left his arm as he realized that revenge wasn't worth the price it was going to take from him. He looked over his sights at the man who had killed those he loved and didn't feel anything any more.
His hatred gone, his fury abated, Xander felt his heartbeat slow to normal as he looked straight into the eyes of Calvin Capperelli.
"No." He said calmly. "I'm not going to die for revenge."
Cap calmed down a bit, his smile becoming more genuine.
Before he could speak, Xander continued talking.
"This isn't revenge." He said calmly as he pulled the trigger.
The .40S&W Para-Ordinance pistol barked once, the bullet bridging the distance between him and Cal the Cap and entering the hitman's skull at the bridge of the nose. As he jerked, Calvin's gun went off, sending another bullet back at Xander.
Xander didn't flinch as the round drew a bloody furrow along his jaw and buried itself into the garage behind him.
He watched Cal the Cap fall, still feeling that eerie calm.
Xander Harris looked down at the body on the ground, and lowered his pistol as he spoke calmly."This is punishment."
"The scandal that has rocked Hollywood for the past two weeks continued to unfold today as police discovered more ties linking Richard Mannelli to organized crime here in Los Angeles. Mannelli, a powerful figure in the entertainment industry, was found dead two weeks ago amid the carnage of his Beverly Hills mansion."
"Also found was the body of alleged notorious Mafia hit man, Calvin 'Cal the Cap' Capperelli, his body found on the grounds with the word 'Punished' painted on his chest in white paint. Police refused to speculate as to the meaning of this, however departmental leaks have pointed the finger of blame directly at Alexander Agata, who testified against Capperelli in court only a few days earlier."
"Agata, at just eighteen years of age, has been accused of cutting a bloody swath through the denizens of the local underworld, leaving carnage and mayhem in his wake. This 'Punisher', as some of the media have labeled him, has already garnered a near mythic legend among the local underworld, despite not having been seen or heard from since that night."
"Turn it off." Buffy growled, standing up and turning away from the TV.
Angel flicked it off with the remote and sighed softly, "If it was Xander... he must be laying low."
"Why doesn't he come to us?" Buffy asked, mostly rhetorically. "We could help him."
"I'm sure that he feels that it's better if he stays away for the moment." Giles offered softly.
"Well he's WRONG!" She snapped, turning on Giles. "We're his friends!"
"Xander doesn't have any friends anymore." Angel said softly, his voice somehow carrying through the room.
Buffy looked at him sharply, "Just what is that supposed to mean?"
"He's a marked man, Buffy." Angel said quietly. "From now on, he only has enemies... and he knows it."
"That's not true!" She protested.
Angel shrugged slightly, "It is to him. If he has friends, then he has weaknesses... People that can be hurt in order to get at him. Xander's running now. He's got his revenge... now he's going to run. Just..."
Angel looked over at Buffy seriously, "Just wish him luck, Buffy."
"Sorry Sir." Natasha Romanov shook her head. "There's no sign of him in LA."
"I didn't expect there to be." Nick Fury sighed, taking a seat behind his desk. "Take a seat, Widow."
The Black Widow took a seat and sighed herself. "I wish we'd been able to find him, Sir. The kid deserved better then what he got."
Nick nodded, "That's the way the world works. Sometimes you get the shaft... sometimes you give it. Alexander managed both. There are worse things I suppose."
Natasha nodded, "Granted. Do you suppose he survived the last fight? I know we didn't find a body, but there was a lot of his blood found on the scene."
"Oh, he's alive." Nick said simply. "I'd lay money on that..."
Nick smiled slightly. "I did lay money on that actually."
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "The office pool? I didn't think you knew about that."
"I had Dum Dum make a bet for me."
The Widow nodded, "What was your bet?"
Nick turned to look out the window of the Heli-Carrier. "That he's not only alive, but that we haven't heard the last of Alexander Agata... Or this... Punisher."
Natasha nodded, "I think that your right, Sir. With the new contract that's been issued, he can't do much more then run though."
"That kid isn't a Runner, Natasha." Nick said, shaking his head. "No, he's going to use the best defence."
"Sir?"
"A good Offence." Nick replied, "When he finds out about the contract, he'll start hunting the hunters."
"Triple his father's contract." The middle aged man said quietly, his voice determined but held a hint of sadness in it.
"Yes, Don Castillo."
Dominic Castillo sighed as he leaned back in his chair and turned to look out over the Chicago city scape.
Not so long ago he had thought that it was finally over. Anthony Agata, what a joke that was, was dead and the contract fulfilled. It had taken twenty years, but it had finally been done.
At his order no less.
Dominic had made his peace with the old treachery, and was looking forward to time without that contract hanging over him and his family like the sword of Damocles.
Now, there was a new Agata Contract, and a new Agata target. And this one seemed poised to do just as much damage as his father had managed. He'd already exposed mob connections into the Hollywood infrastructure that had been carefully hidden since the early nineteenth century. The Mannelli family had provided a great deal for this thing of ours, and had only become more and more powerful and lucrative over the years.
Now it was gone, and rebuilding that influence would require a great deal of money and favors in the right places.
Luckily it wasn't a total loss, the Mannelli infrastructure was still intact. However, Alexander had burned most of Richard's records, which meant that they'd have to rebuild their 'material' on the agents, producers, and various other types that was on their 'payroll'.
It was annoying, but workable.
Big Dom Castillo sighed, the Agata situation wasn't either. It was infuriating and entirely unworkable.
The boy had to die.
Pity.
Punisher. I like that.
Not what I intended when I slathered that paint over Capperelli's chest, but I'll take what I can get. I've decided to keep a journal of my actions in this new war I've found, something so that maybe when I'm gone my friends and family will understand why I've done the things I'm about to do.
Richard Mannelli's home had enough grounds to keep the neighbors from calling the cops about the gunfire, and his security was entirely local, so when I'd eliminated the Cap I went back in and rifled through his files.
Mannelli had been a bad boy.
Drugs, money laundering, prostitution were just the tip of the cake.
I'd always wondered who got those stupid fucking movies made. Half these bozo's deserve to die for Starship Troopers alone. There were dozens of files on people in hollywierd, more then a few names that even I knew. I burned the ones that had relatively minor notations, no reason to ruin their lives over minor discrepencies.
The police should be receiving an interesting package concerning a few big names though.
Pedophiles, rapists, and even a couple honest to god killers.
Guess tinseltown isn't quite a shiny clean as they'd like people to think. Funny, really, when you consider how much publicity they drum up for their 'causes'.
Mannelli's files were a real eye opener.
Like how the Mob funds anti-gun legislation. Afterall, what do they care about laws? If they want a gun, they'll always know how to find one. Reducing the number of guns in the public just makes their chosen career that much easier.
Like they used to say, back before it became Politicall Incorrect. Outlaw guns and only outlaws will have them.
I guess it's a good thing I'm an outlaw now because I'm going to need all the firepower I can get when I get to Chicago.
Punisher's Note, if the cops don't do something with those files I sent them... Make sure to return to Hollywood with my copies.
Assuming I survive.