by Rob Sorenson

The dimly lit room was deathly quiet. In a bunker a few stories beneath Manhattan there were beings appearing before the Watcher's Council that were a physical impossibility. In their collective hands each assembled member held hourly reports on the status of the Slayers, the Wicca, and one of two known vampires with a soul. They clearly stated that as of 30 minutes ago they were, with the exception of the vampire, gathered in the Summers home. Yet standing in front of them were three embodiments of the photos they had just seen, down to every physical detail. Robson simply couldn't believe his eyes. Faith, Willow Rosenberg and Buffy Summers stood before the Watcher's Council. He managed to repeat himself in a hoarse voice, "Sir, what have you done?"

Travers actually smiled as he stared at his creations, a sad spectacle indeed on his grotesquely scarred face. "It's really rather simple. A combination of modern technology and ancient sorcery." He addressed the hushed group more directly. "I'm sure all of you are aware of the scientific debate that is raging throughout the world regarding the science of stem cells and cloning. In my home country much progress has been made in this area, culminating most recently with the cloning of farm animals. In fact, all pieces are in place for the cloning of a human being, leaving nature completely out of the realm of necessity. Those who are proponents of this say that an infant child who is tragically lost in some way can be replaced with the same exact physical details of the child that was lost, thereby giving a measure of comfort to grieving parents. That is, of course, of no consequence to us. What is not commonly know to the general public is just how far along the technology has come. Science now has the ability to replicate another human being with the same physical features with nothing more than a DNA sample of the subject. Why is this important? This is actually quite simple. What is important to the Council is the battle against the forces of evil. Currently this battle is being lost due to the Council's inability to control the Slayers. I'm sure everyone here agrees that we must be directly involved with the Chosen Ones to provide proper influence, guidance, and control. The world will be lost, I fear, if we do not take drastic action. Therefore, I present you with a multi-faceted solution, and they stand before you now."

Robson again managed to find his voice. "Sir, clearly we're missing something. These are the Slayers and Willow Rosenberg. How can they be fully formed adults unless this procedure took place over 20 years ago?" Travers nodded as if to agree with Robson's logic.

"Naturally, this would be true under normal scientific circumstances. We have an accelerated timetable, however, so drastic measures were called for. If you'll recall, I mentioned sorcery in combination with science. The council has received invaluable assistance from 3 most powerful West Indian shamans to facilitate a rapid aging process. These clones will age much faster than their human counterparts. For each day we live, it will be the equivalent of one month for them. They age just over a year in two weeks." The clones were standing stock-still, with no emotion playing over their faces.

"This would be a concern to us under normal circumstances, but we must make allowances for the gravity of the situation. These rogue Slayers must be stopped now and replaced by these prototypes. If all goes well, we will reclone these subjects within a few months, replacing them with more suitable physical specimens...preferably male." He motioned toward the likenesses of Buffy and Faith. "These two have every physical characteristic of the Slayers, and the Wicca has been endowed with equivalent magical skill by the shamans. Incidentally the shamans are kept under guard by us, for their safety as well as ours. They are the only known practitioners of the Black Arts who could make this sort of thing happen. For security reasons their part in this will be kept secret."

A Watcher from Norway raised her hand. Travers acknowledged her with a nod. "Mr. Travers, while I appreciate the grand vision of your plan, what exactly do you plan to do with the original group?"

"This is an excellent question, Lena. It's really rather simple: we take the 3 women out of their familiar environment and force them to come to an unfamiliar one. Then we simply utilize our clones to defeat them. The most ingenious part of this plan, if I may be so bold as to say it, is the human weakness of our enemies. They will be put in the rather bizarre position of having to kill themselves, so to speak. This will make them hesitate, and slight hesitation is all our clones will need, for they will kill their originals without mercy. We control them, you see. More importantly, these clones have the exact skill levels of their human counterparts, and the aid of Spike is not possible. He simply cannot travel safely by air, even on overnight flights. They land in daylight. Once our three targets arrive, if by some miracle the originals manage to fight our clones to a draw, they'll be easily eliminated by a Watcher's disposal team due to their severely weakened state."

Robson raised his hand again. "Mr. Travers, I understand your general plan, but I'm confused by one thing: how do you plan to make the team come to us?"

Travers had a twinkle in his eye. "As I said before, Robson, we will utilize their human weaknesses." Traver's checked his watch. "In fact, we're in the process of dealing with one of the human weaknesses as we speak."

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Xander finally stopped running about 500 yards from the Summers home and collapsed against a tree, his face in his hands. He'd almost hit Willow. <What kind of man am I? The kind who would hit someone who means everything to me. God, what is wrong with me?> He had to go back and apologize to everyone and talk this out. <I should have talked to Willow before. She wouldn't have liked it, but she wouldn't have gone so ballistic. Part of her is pissed because I excluded her.>

As he made his way down the sidewalk he sensed a presence behind him. <That's odd, I've never been able to sense stuff like that before. Buffy's instincts appear to be in my head too. Maybe I got some Slayer strength too,> he thought with amusement. That amusement quickly disappeared as he somehow just knew he was about to be attacked. He spun around and caught the attacking man in black fatigues with a perfect right hook that sent him reeling backward. Xander advanced on him only to be hit from the side with a kendo stick, splitting the skin over his left temple and knocking him down to the sidewalk. Blocking out the pain and fighting dizziness he lashed out with his leg, sweeping his second attacker to the ground. As he rose to reapond a third man approached from behind and Xander caught him with a stiff elbow to the nose, shattering it and causing blood to spew onto the pavement, blending with his own. He prepared to turn back to the first guy and finish him when a taser blast of electricity stiffened him and dropped him like a stone. He lay on the lawn, desperately trying to crawl away when a moist handkerchief was placed over his nose. His last thought before fading into unconsciousness was typical of him: <Nope. Didn't get the Slayer strength.>

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Buffy was still near the stairs, trying awkwardly to comfort Faith when Spike came to the door. "What's up with Willow? She looked like someone died or something."

Buffy couldn't help but smile weakly at the man she loved. "She just found out about Xander and..." She nodded her head toward a clearly upset Faith, who was seated at the dining room table with a dazed look on her face. Spike shook his head. "He didn't tell Willow? What IS it with you people? Typical bleedin' Scoobies, always have to have your damn secrets. Are you people ever going to learn?" Suddenly Buffy sat bolt upright on the stairs, eyes wide. Spike grew instantly wary. "What is it, luv? Something evil about?"

Buffy rose. "Xander's being attacked." She leaped off the stairs and toward her front stoop. "Faith, come with me! Xander's in trouble!" The brunette Slayer didn't hesitate. She knew Buffy's game voice and was right behind her, with Spike bringing up the rear.

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The Council chamber had watched the extraction of the Harris boy through a live satellite feed. Robson could see why the human had survived on a Hellmouth for as long as he had. Without weapons the Council operatives would've most likely been the ones on the ground right now. Xander was currently being tied up and placed into the back of an Escalade. Travers spoke up. "The Harris boy should be in New York by 4 am Eastern. The Council Learjet is fueled and ready at the Sunnydale Airport. They should be in the air in no more than 20 minutes." Again, the Council was hushed. Some in awe; some in disbelief. Travers' plan had been brilliantly thought out, with contingencies in mind. It wasn't planned to extract the boy until the next day at his construction site, but when they were afforded the unique opportunity to capture him alone under cover of darkness they'd made their move.

Robson spoke once more, and now it was with righteous indignation: "The council resorts to kidnapping innocents now? What is to be done with him? Some sort of ransom demand? Is this how you plan to bring the Slayers and the Wicca to New York? Are we certain they will do this?"

Travers shook his head. "Robson, have you not been listening? This boy is their human weakness. They will come to rescue him because they've deluded themselves into thinking he is of value to them. Trust me when I tell you that they will come. In the meantime we'll extract whatever information we can from the human. He is very close to them, and will provide us with further knowledge of their weaknesses. He'll resist that, of course; that's where our Buffy, Willow and Faith come in. When we shatter his trust in them, he'll break. Every man has his breaking point, Robson....even you." Travers' eyes were cold as he very softly called, "Ladies, if you please."

The cloned Wiccan raised her hand and immediately Robson's clothing was aflame. He screamed and dropped to the cold concrete floor to douse the searing heat. Cloned Buffy quickly strode to the smoldering Watcher and effortlessly snapped his neck as the flames were smothered. Cloned Faith followed close behind and picked him up in one arm, carrying the lone voice of dissent out of the room for disposal. Travers turned once again to the assembly, now visibly terrified. "Does anyone else wish to question my methods? He waited for a cruel beat. "I thought not. We will meet again soon to discuss progress. For now I motion we adjourn, which under the circumstances will have to do. Robson isn't available to second the motion." Again Travers allowed a ghost of a smile to appear on his lips as he limped out of the room.

- End Chapter Six -