by Rob Sorenson

There was shocked silence in the room as the horribly scarred face of Quentin Travers appeared on the Summers' television. "I'm assuming that it isn't necessary for me to introduce myself. I wish I could be with you at this moment to observe the looks on your faces. Undoubtedly you thought I was dead." The camera panned back as Travers leaned back in his executive chair, fingers steepled. "If I may be frank, I probably should be. The Powers That Be, in their infinite wisdom, have spared me. I can only conclude that their goal is consistent with mine: to fight the battle against evil by any means necessary. It is unfortunate, Miss Summers, that you've made choices that are inconsistent with the wishes of the Council time and time again. We once had hopes for Faith, but I confess we should have known better. Americans, traditionally, have been the most insolent and ineffective Slayers. You two have reinforced my opinion. We are therefore left without a choice.

Travers' facial expression had been grotesque when he first appeared, with a slight smile on his face. Now his face darkened to a slightly sneering visage that could only be described as obscene. "I assume you've looked at the additional contents inside the envelope." All eyes turned to Buffy at that statement. She dug deeper into the envelope and discovered three airline tickets scheduled to depart at 4 pm Sunnydale time, nonstop to New York City as Travers continued. "Once you arrive in New York, you will then take a taxi into Manhattan. We have accommodations in the city for you in the Warwick Hotel, in the Cary Grant Suite. Rupert Giles attended a party there once; we at the Council thought it would make you feel at home knowing he'd once been there." Buffy suddenly felt a strong need to slam her fist into the screen. "You will wait there for further instructions. I don't need to remind you that we will be watching. It is indeed, after all, what we do. If we see any attempt to deviate from this itinerary there will be severe consequences. Please allow me to provide you some incentive." At this, Travers' image abruptly disappeared from the screen, to be replaced by Xander Harris, formerly known as the Zeppo, straining helplessly to escape chains in the corner of a brightly lit room.

Travers' thought himself to be an accomplished sadist. He'd arranged for Xander's thrashing against his bonds to go on for 3 full minutes, to prolong the agony of the Scooby Gang and burn the suffering image of the heart of their family into their brains.

He would've been sorely disappointed if he'd been there to gauge their reactions personally.

The group rose as one, gaping in shock and disbelief. Thirty seconds into the footage of Xander in bondage. Faith was the first to react verbally. "Xand......Xander. Baby...." She moved toward the screen, hand out as if to touch his face. She sank to her knees in front of the TV. Buffy whispered, "He's alive. Willow, he's alive." For their part, Willow and Dawn were having difficulty processing what they were seeing. Locator spells were intermediate level magic at best; in truth Dawn may have managed without Willow the previous night. When they were done by the two of them together, they were simply foolproof. Spike turned to Willow, head cocked to one side as if wondering whether or not his idea was silly. <Sod it. I'm asking anyway.> "As I recall, the locator spell finds anyone connected to the Earth. Yes?" Willow and Dawn nodded simultaneously. "Technically, are planes connected? They're in the air; the Earth is below them. They're sort of suspended--"

"Oh my God. I'm a total idiot. I'm stupid, stupid , stupid..." Willow had slumped back to the couch, head in her hands. "He was on a plane to somewhere. Oh my God." She burst into tears of regret mixed with joy. She'd never been happier to screw up on a spell in her life. Buffy had gone to Faith's side and helped her up, and they were in each other's arms.

Their joy was quickly tempered when Travers' smiling face was now back on the screen. "The boy has not been permanently harmed....yet. You may rest assured he will be if you do not follow our instructions to the letter. Once this mission in completed he will be released and flown directly from JFK to Sunnydale. Fail us, and the next videotape you see from me will feature his dismemberment. Good day to you all; especially you Miss Summers. I'm looking forward to seeing you one more time."

Buffy stared at the now black screen. They had 3 hours until the flight left Sunnydale International. Travers had deliberately given them little or no time to prepare and react. Still, the sight of Xander alive, if not necessarily well, had filled her with determination. She stood abruptly and faced the group to speak.

"Ok, ideas. Anyone. Is there anything on that tape that can help us?" Dawn nodded.

"It's not much, but Travers let it slip that Xander was in New York. Once we get there a locator spell can narrow down his position pretty quickly."

Buffy nodded appreciatively. "Good thinking, Dawn. I get the feeling Travers thinks he's a little bit smarter than the rest of the world. We need to use that against him." Willow had gone to the computer in the dining room and was typing and scrolling at the speed of light.

"The flight they picked is sold out. Our three seats are all we can get."

William spoke up. "I'd wager the sight of Dawn getting on the plane would constitute a violation of the rules. We couldn't risk that anyway. Check for alternative flights for her."

Faith spoke for the first time since she'd managed to make her way back to the chair. "Spike, whatever he has planned for the three of us--" she waved her hand to include Willow and Buffy--"You're our edge. Can you take a redeye, or a private jet or something?"

Dawn shook her head at that one. "Redeyes land in daylight, and even chartered private jets could be delayed for a variety of reasons. Weather, mechanical problems, whatever. It's too much of a risk for him."

Spike bridled at the notion of sitting this one out. "Sod that. I'll drive like a bat out of Hell and be there in 2 days." Buffy shook her head and took his hand.

"Honey, whatever Travers has planned is specifically designed for the three of us. Whatever happens, will happen tomorrow. He gave us virtually no time because you're....Will? What's that algebra term?"

The redhead was clicking furiously as she responded without looking up. "A variable." Buffy looked back to her lover. "That's it. A variable." I wish you could be there, though....you'd be a wrench in his plans. Plus, as I recall you've actually been to the city, right?"

William grimaced inwardly. His last visit to the city had resulted in the killing of many innocents; there was no minimizing that. His primary memory, however, was the killing of Nikki Wood. The thought of killing a Slayer was particularly repugnant to him now, for obvious reasons.. Buffy either didn't notice his change of mood or pretended not to; either way he was grateful. He didn't relish recounting that story to Faith. At last he simply nodded to his beloved.

Willow spoke up from the dining/computer room. "I checked all the available charter flights. They all land in daylight as well. I could make some calls and get a specifically timed flight, but Dawn was right before when she mentioned possible delays. It's just too risky."

Dawn spoke again. "Plus, wouldn't that be kind of expensive?" Again Willow spoke while maintaining her gaze at the monitor, this time with a slightly embarrassed tone.

"Money isn't really an issue for us any more, Dawnie. Xander and I are doing pretty well." "Really? How well?"

Buffy snapped her eyes at her younger sister. "Dawnie, we don't have time for this. Plus it's none of our business." She sneaked a look at Willow after finishing her admonishment.

Willow sensed Buffy's look and at last pulled her eyes from the screen, actually chuckling. "Buffy, that was pathetic. You SO want to know. It's ok, really; Xander and I are proud of how well we've done. We initially invested five hundred thousand dollars into the company for equipment, office space and insurance. We kept some aside to live on if things didn't work out. Well, more specifically I did. Xand's not much of an accountant. Anyway, in our first six months we've accumulated 10.3 million dollars in ready cash to transfer to various projects if need be. The business's net worth is roughly 42 million now."

No one spoke for a moment. Finally Dawn found her voice. "Holy crap!!"

Willow smiled shyly, and remembering the import of the situation it slowly faded. "My point is the money for getting whatever charter we need is there. It's moot anyway. Spike can't fly, and Travers doesn't want money, he wants us." She stared at Faith, and the dark headed Slayer stared right back. "I think it's fair to say he's going to get us."

Faith nodded. "Damn friggin straight. That son of a bitch is mine." Buffy saw the tacit agreement in their eyes, and now knew personality conflicts were thrown aside. <Good. I was a little worried about that.>

After a long moment Willow motioned for Buffy to come look at the screen. "I've accessed as much as I can from the Watcher's Council files. There's nothing to indicate a New York headquarters. Wherever they're based, it's off the books. We could use....." She looked down sadly.

After an awkward silence Buffy spoke. "Giles. It's ok Will. I was thinking how much I really miss Giles since I first saw this tape." She took a deep breath, and Spike walked to her and took her hand. She looked up and smiled gratefully at his way of saying everything possible to comfort her with his cool, soothing touch. "I love you."

"Love you too, pet. I have an idea. There is one more Watcher who might be able to help us."

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Wesley Wyndham-Price had fallen asleep at his desk again. Demonic activity had fallen to record lows since his unlikely band of heroes had restored sunlight to the City of Angels. The great majority of their work now constituted lost cats and the like. Not exactly a stimulating follow-up to the defeat of the forces of Evil, but all in all a badly needed respite for the Fang Gang.

When the phone rang he gave a yelp similar to the one he'd once displayed in a Sunnydale High School bathroom when Cordy had touched him from behind after he'd saved her from Vampire Willow. He laughed at himself. <The more things change...> "Angel Investigations. We help the helpless."

"Wes? It's Buffy. I need any information you can give me about a Watcher's Council base of operations in New York."

************************************************************************

"Thank you, Wes. You have no idea how much this helps us. No, I really don't have time to get into it right now. Trust me when I tell you that this is life or death. I'm sorry to seem rude, but I have to go. I promise to tell you about it later. Thanks again." Buffy hung up the phone. "Ok, that's interesting. Wes never saw anything written down, just rumblings, Council gossip. He distinctly remembers a reference made to a safehouse in the Bronx. Outside of that, he's been out of the loop too long to know much else. They're constantly expanding their spheres of influence in major cities." Catching Willow's look, Buffy squinted and snapped, "and yes, spheres of influence were his words, not mine. I thought he was talking about some mystical soul trapping device." Catching Spike's raised eyebrow, she shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, honey. I didn't mean yours."

Dawn nodded excitedly. "Still, though, that's a starting point. If we narrow it down to one of the five boroughs we can bloodhound right to their crib and bust 'em." Noticing their stares, she looked down. "Jeez, watch a cop show much?"

Willow was noticeably taking a deep breath before she spoke, so Buffy instinctively knew her friend had an idea. "There is a way for us to get an edge and get there sooner....WITH Spike. It's risky, though. I think I can do it; I've done it before, but never for this kind of distance."

Spike eyes had narrowed. "Willow, spit it out already. Your flight leaves in 2 1/2 hours."

"Ok. Sorry. What time does it get dark in New York this time of year?" "Right now I'd go with 6:47pm."

Faith was impressed with Spike's quick response. "Damn, that was quick." He shrugged. "If it's life or death one tends to watch that part of the weather report on the telly."

Buffy gave Willow a long look. "Ok, what's the what? Some kind of magical transportation?"

The Wicca nodded. "Pretty much, yes. Teleportation is easy enough for me within the state of California. Xander and I did it to make a business meeting in Napa once." She smiled at the memory. Xander was quite the 'fraidy cat when it came to magic.

The blonde Slayer continued her stare at her best friend. "Let's say for the sake of argument that we do this. I can see the benefits: we have a 2 hour headstart on the bad guys and Spike gets back into the game. Here's the problem: the plane. They'll be watching us board and get off. They won't hesitate to kill Xander if they think we're trying something. Travers is a cautious man; he'd clear out of New York and come at us from another angle. How do we fool them?"

Willow brightened. "Actually, that's the much easier part. We're going to need a little more help though." She finished relating her plan, and Buffy was nodding in recognition.

"This is good. This is very good. If you're sure you can pull it off, let's teleport."

Willow was blushing. Faith didn't like what she was seeing.

"Willow, what else is up? There's something you're not telling us."

"Well, yes. There's a very temporary side effect. I can't specifically tell you where in New York City we'll end up. It's just too far to be too specific. I'm pretty sure we can hit Manhattan, but I can't narrow it down any better. And one other thing...."

Spike didn't like that look from the Wicca one little bit. "Yeah? What's the one other thing?" Willow scrunched up her nose. "

For the first 10 seconds after we arrive, we'll be naked."

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, that's five by five. No biggie for me."

"Right. Bloody priceless."

- End Chapter Nine -