by DarkWiccan » Wed May 29, 2002 6:34 pm
here's the next bit!
Enjoy
DarkWiccan
________________________
“David”, I said to my wrist as I quickened my pace down the moonlit street and back toward the center of town.
“Copy, Bridge, go ahead”, came the static filled reply.
“The original scenario before the anomaly”, I stated, “I need to know what happened.”
“You don’t remember?” David asked worriedly. “Bridge, how are your motor skills? Have you had any instances of visual fade out?”
“I’m fine”, I bit back to him, “I don’t remember because they never talked about it. I need you to tell me what happened according to our data file.”
“One second, let me pull up the police reports…”
Agonizingly slow minutes followed, I continued toward my destination, my jaw set in an even line.
“Got it”, David said triumphantly, “Police Report dated May 23, 2002. Warren Mears taken into custody outside of Laughlin, Nevada under the charge of murder of Katrina Silber and attempted murder of one Buffy Anne Summers. Individual is also suspect in the attempted armed robbery of Sunnydale Themepark on the evening of May 20, 2002.
“On May 21, 2002 at approximately 9:37am, Mr. Mears was seen entering the neighborhood of Revello Drive in Sunnydale, California. He then proceeded to trespass onto the property of 1630 Revello Drive and fired five shots from a hand pistol. One of which struck the homeowner Ms. Buffy Summers in the left upper chest near the shoulder. The other shots went wild into the side of the house imbedding in the wood paneling near the upstairs master suite. No other injuries were reported. Warren Mears will remain in the custody of the Sunnydale Police Department until the date of his indictment, at which point he will be transferred to a more secure facility.”
“Copy”, I said after a moment, “And after the anomaly?”
David paused a moment before answering, “You know what happened.”
“Tell me”, I replied through gritted teeth, “ I need to hear it.”
He let out a long sigh before responding, “The anomaly affected the trajectory of one of the stray bullets causing it to fly through the window rather than imbedding in the wood frame. It struck your… it struck Tara Maclay through the left posterior chest wall, penetrating her heart and killing her instantly.”
I allowed the information to seep into my skin, my bones, and my heart before answering, “Is 17 still in the area at this time?”
“Affirmative.”
“Copy. Out.” Finishing the conversation I paused to look up and take in my new surroundings. The cemetery was dark and crowded, as all Sunnydale cemeteries were.
I made my way past the gravestones and mausoleums allowing my slowly fading memories to guide my way. Suddenly the sound of singing, or something only slightly resembling what singing should be, filtered into my ears.
“All BY MYSELF”, came the strained voice across the tombstones. “Don’t wanna be… ALL BY MYSELF…”
I followed the sound and found the source of it in a pale, lanky bleach blonde fellow leaning up against the side of a crypt, bottle of Jack Daniels in hand. His long, black leather trench coat swayed at his sides as he emoted to the night sky. By now he had changed songs.
“I can’t live”, he warbled, “If living is without you! I can’t LIVE! I can’t live ANYMORE!”
“Of course, the fact that you’re already dead to begin with adds a sort of dramatic irony to the lyric, don’t you think?” I asked as I approached his drunken form.
“Who the Hell are you?” He burbled in my direction.
“No one you know”, I replied. “And yet I seem to know you, Hostile 17.”
This caused him to flinch visibly. He took a step back as if to run and only managed to get himself tangled in his own coat, hitting the ground with a hard thud and shattering his bottle of liquor.
“Bloody Hell”, he swore, “I stole that fair and square.” He returned his attention to me, “Whatever it is you want it had better include the words ‘chip’ and ‘removal’ otherwise I’ll nothing to do with it.”
“I need a gun”, I stated simply, “I know you have at least one or two lying around.”
“You?” He questioned sardonically, “Little Miss GI Jane Commando? Coming to me looking for a gun? Why don’t you go requisition one, my tax dollars are going to your weapons, use ‘em!”
“You don’t pay taxes”, I pointed out calmly.
“Yeah, well if I did”, he said pushing himself up onto his elbows, “I’d be very upset about some unknown soldier type just barging in taking things willy-nilly. I have a right to bear arms! Your bloody constitution says so! So, off with you now, prance on back to your barracks or what have you.”
Enough was enough. I pounced, landing with my legs on either side of him, straddling his abdomen and pinning him to the ground. Drawing the stake I had fashioned the night previous from one of my side pockets, I held it threateningly to his chest.
“They always told me you talked too much”, I spit at him through gritted teeth. “Mother always sort of defended you, but Mama, not so much. I don’t have time for these stupid games. Either you get me what I need and fast or I drive this stake through your undead heart and ransack through your pilfered mess myself. I don’t much care either way so long as I get a gun. Look into my eyes, this is the look of desperation and it has never been conducive to patience. Your answer?”
After a moment of allowing everything I had just said to sink in he weakly replied, “Uh, yeah, sure. Whatever you say. I’m pretty sure I’ve got what you need.”
I eyed him carefully before slowly rising up and off him. Pausing to collect himself, he likewise rose and wordlessly started to lead me on. He stepped inside his crypt and emerged a few moments later with a decent looking .45. He handed it to me and I weighed it in my hand, glancing down the barrel to make sure it was true, opening the clip to see that it was loaded.
“How much”, I asked after a moment.
“Two hundred.”
“Seventy-five”, I countered.
“You must be joking”,17 cried out, “That is a fine piece of artillery, there. One-fifty at least. C’mon.”
“Seventy-five.”
“One hundred?”
I met him with my most steely gaze, assessing him, knowing he knew that I knew that he couldn’t hurt me. I could just walk away with the gun, after all, it was already in my hand. But I decided to be generous.
“Done.” He smiled his evil smile as I dug into my pocket and removed the exact amount, which was also the very last of my petty cash, not that I’d need it anymore.
“Pleasure doing business with you”, he said, counting his money. “Now, about this here chip.”
“Forget it”, I interrupted him, starting off.
“Oh, right well, whenever you get around to it then.” He was obviously still very intoxicated. “Say, what kind of mission are you on anyway, Jane-y?”
“The life and death kind”, I said over my shoulder.
“Aren’t they all?” I heard him mumble, “Aren’t they all…”
I left the cemetery and made my way back over to Emerson and Higgins, the large black van I had seen there earlier was gone, and the house seemed vacant. I decided to wait, to catch them as they came home. Situating myself amongst several tall bushes across the street I hunkered down and trained my vision on the house and waited…
****
The sound of buzz saws spinning wildly through wood roused me from my slumber. I blinked my eyes to adjust in the late-morning sunlight and looked up in time to see the same petite blonde I had bumped into the last night come diving out of the front door and onto the lawn, her arms full of papers. She stood up quickly taking a moment to examine the nasty gash her clothes had received, before taking off down the street.
That girl never stops running, I thought to myself as I got up and crossed the street. It would have done no good to waste time berating myself for falling asleep on the job. Was I upset? Sure. Was I angry? Yes. But the only thing I had time to think about right now was finding that bastard and putting him out of my misery.
I peered into the front door of the house and saw the reason for my wake up call.
“Those are some big saws”, I said to no one but myself. Suddenly the creaking sound of wood giving way filled the air and I ducked out of the way just as the house’s inner structure caved in on itself.
Well, so much for trying to loot the place for information, I thought wryly.
Tucking the gun inside my jump suit I started back toward town. Maybe I could finesse someone into buying me a cup of coffee. I glanced down at my chronometer: 127.002-03.3611. Eighteen hours left.
I knew that I could relax at least a little in the meantime. It was doubtful I was going to be able to find them during the day and thanks to David’s police report, I already knew where they were going to be that night.
I walked past a glazed window and did a double take. I stopped and took in my own reflection. Or at least what was left of it. My image seemed to momentarily flicker in and out like a bad television reception before returning to solid.
“That’s not good”, I said to myself, pulling at the skin of my cheek to verify it was still there.
“What’s not good?” A friendly voice asked.
I looked up to see Willow and Tara walking hand-in-hand toward me, their faces beaming in the warm sunlight. I couldn’t help but smile back. It felt so good to see them happy again. And it gave what I was going to do that much more meaning.
“Uh, my hair”, I stated quickly, “It’s a complete mess.”
“It doesn’t look that bad”, Willow soothed, “You wanna borrow my scrunchy? Fix some of the messiness?”
“Thanks”, I sighed, taking up her offer. She handed me the small clothes hairband off her wrist and I quickly pulled my hair up into a ponytail. “Much better.” I looked down and noticed the rather full book satchels the both had strewn over their shoulders. “Heavy studying?” I asked.
“Yeah”, Tara nodded, her eyes catching mine and communicating a silent ‘Thank You.’
I gazed back at her, my eyes equally warm, ‘You’re welcome.’
“Actually, we were gonna stop and get some mocha-y goodness first”, Willow chirped brightly, “Wanna join?”
“Um”, I shifted a little in my stance, shuffling my feet, “I’m kind of low on… money type things.”
“My treat”, Tara smiled.
“No, mine”, Willow countered, “It’s the least I can do to thank you.”
“For what”, I asked, almost shyly, “I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes you did”, the redhead replied, “Tara told me how you walked with her to the house last night. I want to thank you for keeping her safe. You and your macho-girl Air Force ways.”
“Join us”, Tara urged, “Please?”
Well, how could I say no to that?
“Okay”, I conceded and the three of us headed over to the Espresso Pump.
We sat at the same table we had occupied the day before, only this time Tara and Willow sat next to each other, unable to keep themselves from maintaining some sort of physical contact. A hand on the knee, the brushing of errant hairs away from the other’s face, the holding of hands, the occasional quick kiss. It was all very romantic and mushy. And not a little embarrassing. To me anyway. Being who I was. I tapped my fingers on the table top nervously, fidgeting with my double shot of espresso mocha.
“I’m sorry, Bridge”, Tara said melodically. “Here it is we invite you to join us and we all but ignore you.”
“I guess we’re a little wrapped up in each other today”, Willow shrugged apologetically, taking Tara’s hand once more into her own.
“Oh, don’t mind me”, I said gamely, “It’s perfectly alright. I’m just glad to see you two so happy. You are happy?”
“Completely”, Tara assured, gazing lovingly into Willow’s eyes.
“Totally”, Willow replied, her voice barely a whisper, gazing back into balmy blue eyes.
Absolutely, I thought, concluding the line of adverb-y goodness. I really did take after Mama sometimes, at least when it came to rambling thought processes. Like this one, for example.
They were kissing again. I took this as my cue to politely excuse myself.
“Oh don’t go”, said Willow, her eyes rounding like a puppy dog’s.
“Yes, please”, urged Tara, “We’re sorry. We’ll stop.”
“No”, I stated firmly, “Whatever you do. Don’t do that. Never stop loving each other. Promise me that.”
“We promise”, they replied in unison, grasping their hands even more tightly.
“Good”, I smiled, “I’ll see you later…”
“Wait, Brighid, I’ve been meaning to ask you”, Tara began hastily.
“Yes?”
“Your locket, who did you say gave it to you?”
“My… My mother.”
“When?”
I scratched my head trying to recall the memory, “Um, gosh, when I was six or seven, I think. It was along time ago. Why?”
“Just curious”, she answered, and quickly turned her attention back to Willow who regarded her lover with a confused look.
“Oh”, I said slightly taken, “Okay, well, I’ll, uh, see you around.”
“See ya”, they both said, Willow waving slightly.
I headed back out onto the street, trying to collect my thoughts. Does she know, my brain clamored loudly, has she figured it out? No time to worry. I have places to be. Bastards to kill. Besides, she and Ma… Willow… are completely preoccupied. Nothing in the world can touch them now.
After several dead ends, I finally managed to jog my memory strongly enough to find my way to Sunnydale Themepark. The sun had already started to set and the park security was in the process of closing up shop. I snuck inside through a hole in one of the side gates and scanned the area for a suitable hiding place. Spying a large stone walking bridge near the center of the park, I took up residence in the shadows underneath it and bided my time.
I didn’t have to wait very long.
A large armored truck pulled into the square and backed up toward the depository office. After a moment two armed security guards hopped out and made their way up to the building. A park administrator emerged from the offices with a cart full of money bags. After several minutes of unloading, they finally finished their task. The guards exchanged a few words, inaudible from my vantage point, before heading back to the front of the truck and hopping in.
Suddenly Warren appeared behind the administrative guy, knocking him unconscious and lifting the rear wheels of the fully loaded truck off of the ground.
“What the hell?” I said out loud, rising from my position to get a better view.
Warren easily toss the truck onto its side, knocking the guards within the cab unconscious as well.
How is that possible? My mind frantically scrambled trying to wrap around what my eyes were seeing. But then I couldn’t help but smile as a small figure leapt to the top of the overturned vehicle just as Warren was busy ripping the steel reinforced back door from its hinges. How did she get here so fast? Oh, that’s right, she ran.
I rolled my eyes and hunkered back down into my original position, drawing my weapon and preparing to aim.
Suddenly, the fight was on. The petite woman descending onto fuzz boy in a flying leap, only to be deflected by Warren’s sudden enhanced strength. She got back up. I knew she would. And the two began to exchange some real blows. He’s fast, but she’s faster, although even I can tell that she seems more than a little off. I could tell by her face that her back seemed to be paining her with each blow, and it didn’t help that Warren didn’t seem fatigued at all.
“Seem a little off”, Warren taunted, “Bad day?”
“Getting better”, she replied coldly, suddenly hitting him with an impressive series of lightning fast blows.
C’mon, c’mon, I thought, get him closer, Just a little closer. I held my gun at arm’s length, plotting his every move.
Dodging a wildly thrown blow, the blonde flipped over Warren’s head, grabbing the steel door he had ripped off the armored truck earlier and striking him home run style, sending him flying.
Sending him flying right at me!
“Shit!”, I cried out moving to duck.
He slammed full force into the archway, only to shake off the blow and laugh, “That all you got?”
I looked up in time to see the stone work above him start to give and I watched in slow motion as a large chunk aimed straight for my head, sending my world into blackness.
Through the dusty haze my chronometer blinked: 127.002-09.3754. Twelve hours left.
____________________
TBC…
Oh, Warren's in trouble now. Good. 
at: 5/28/02 11:03:03 pm
4 ever!!!!
Stupid Warren! But you write him so well..dorky and egotistical.
first a spy novel now an evil
cliffhanger!
