Willow was so intent on the computer screen in front
of her that she
let out a little cry and jumped, startled by the soft touch on her
shoulder. Whirling around, her eyes widened in stunned surprise at the
sight of the person who had startled her out of her focus.
"Buffy!" she gasped. "What are you doing up?"
They had returned to the mansion at just after midnight. Now, the first
rays of dawn were peeking through the drawn shades on the windows, and
Willow had no thought of stopping her work. Not until she had found the
solution.
Buffy didn't answer her question, but Willow could not miss her labored
breathing, and the way she was leaning on the back of Willow's chair to
support herself.
"What happened?" Buffy demanded, fiery green eyes meeting hers and
insisting on nothing less than the full truth.
"He – he gave himself up for you, Buffy," Willow said softly, her eyes
not faltering from her friend's intent gaze. "He knew that if he came
with us she'd track us here...so he went another way and tried to get
away...but...but he had to have known he couldn't."
Buffy was silent for a moment, a stony expression on her face which was
obviously – at least to Willow – an attempt to cover what she was
feeling. "We've got to go back," she said at last. "We're going to go
back, and we're going to rescue him – and then I'm going to slap him
around for a while and stake his stupid butt for doing such an idiotic
thing!"
Willow almost smiled at Buffy's plan of action, but held it back
because of the look in her friend's eyes. Those fierce, hard eyes were
brimming with tears, and her lower lip was trembling just slightly as
she fought to hold them back. Willow glanced down, and noticed with
alarm that Buffy's hand on the back of the chair was shaking violently,
and she did not think that it was only with emotion.
"Buffy," Willow said softly, standing to move behind the chair and help
support her. "You're in no condition to go anywhere yet. You couldn't
help him – not like this."
Buffy's tears spilled over at that, in frustration and fear. "I have
to, Will! I can't let him stay there! I can't let her do the things to
him that she – I can't – I..." Her voice trailed off as the tears
overcame her.
"Buffy – you just can't – not yet." Willow's voice was gentle as she
sought her friend's eyes earnestly.
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Buffy's voice came out in a desperate
whisper. "I can't just sit here while she tortures him and kills him. I
can't!"
"I've been working on a way to help him, Buffy," Willow said, a hopeful
note in her voice as she carefully helped Buffy to sit down in the
chair beside hers. "I've been looking through Cordova's main database,
and you wouldn't believe some of the stuff I've found! I – I think I've
found the way to get them shut down for good!"
Buffy looked surprised. "Tell me," she nodded, a grim satisfaction in
her eyes. At least something was going right.
"Well, here it is. The Initiative is like, kind of under suspicion by
the government, even though they're funding it and all, because of the
last time and everything that happened. Spike was right. This whole
vamp army thing Cordova is doing is all her. The government doesn't
really know anything about it. And according to her notes, she's pretty
desperate to keep it that way."
"Why is she even doing it?" Buffy wanted to know, a growing anger in
her eyes toward the evil, sadistic monster who was as they spoke
torturing the man she loved.
"Well...from what I can tell," Willow drew a deep breath before she went
on, "it seems like some kind of...arms deal. Like, she's – she's planning
on turning these vampires into the ultimate weapons of mass destruction
– and selling them off to the highest bidder."
Despite all she had learned about Cordova's nature, that shocked Buffy.
"Then – she's a traitor?"
"At least willing to be," Willow shrugged. "From what I read, she
doesn't seem to care who she sells them to – or who she sells out.
She's just all about wealth and power."
"Well, that explains why," Buffy mused, frowning. "But you said we
could stop her...how?"
"Since the Initiative is still on I guess you might call it probation,"
Willow went on. "the government has safeguards in place...to prevent
anything happening like last time, when all those people got killed
when the demons escaped?"
Buffy nodded her remembrance.
"So...the whole place is equipped with a – a panic button so to speak. If
at any point someone with enough clearance to have access to it thinks
that things seem to be out of control, the entire place can be locked
down completely. No one getting in or out. At the same time, a signal
is sent to the authorities in Washington letting them know that the
panic button's been set off. So they send a special force down to check
it out," Willow explained, slowly so that it was all clear.
Buffy was nodding in understanding. "And they find her vampire army,
and her records about it. And the Initiative is shut down, and Cordova
rots in prison." She paused, glaring at the wall, obviously imagining
the general there. "Which is way too easy a punishment for her," she
muttered with hatred in her tone. She paused to digest what Willow had
just told her, before going on, "So if we can set off the panic
button...."
"We can shut down the Initiative," Willow nodded.
"But that doesn't help Spike," Buffy pointed out, her voice low and
grim. "We have to get him out of there."
Willow took another deep breath, and looked away for a moment.
"What?" Buffy demanded. It was clear that there was something her
friend had not told her yet.
Willow looked back at her, determination, and some other unknown
emotion in her eyes. "I think I've found a way."
"What is it? Anything, Will! We've got to get him out of there before
she kills him!" Buffy insisted.
"I've found the control to shut down the chips. Scramble the signals so
well that the back-ups will be useless. The chips would be shut down
for good," Willow explained, her voice low and carefully
expressionless. "All the chips," she added quietly.
Buffy was silent as she took that in. "Once we set off the panic
button...the facility is locked down. Right? No vamps getting out until
the special unit gets there."
"Right."
Buffy thought for a moment longer. She put her hands over her eyes and
rested her elbows on the table, letting out a heavy sigh.
"I – I know about you and Spike, Buffy," Willow admitted softly,
placing a gentle hand on Buffy's shoulder.
The Slayer looked up in alarm.
"And I think it's fine," Willow hurried to assure her. "But the thing
is...if he doesn't have a chip anymore...there's no controlling what he
might do...you could end up...having to..." She stopped there; Buffy knew
exactly where she was going.
Buffy looked at her for a moment, confusion and indecision in her eyes.
She put her head in her hands again, thinking. And suddenly, all she
could think about was that last afternoon she had spent with Spike,
before Cordova had taken her captive.
His promise, his devotion to her had meant so much, as he had stood
there and asked her simply to serve as a conscience for a creature who
supposedly had none, yet still had a desire to be "good", if only to
please her, to deserve her. She had known in that moment that it was a
responsibility that she desired to take on, that he was capable of
doing the right thing, with the proper guidance and motivation.
She knew now what she had to do.
She looked up at Willow with a firm decision in her eyes. "Shutting
down the chips completely...will it hurt him?" she asked.
Willow shook her head.
"Do it," Buffy said immediately. "Shut them down, Will."
Willow looked back at her with a serious, uncertain expression. "You're
sure," she asked. She had known in her heart that this was the choice
Buffy would make, and felt that if it had been her decision, she would
have done the same. But she did not want Buffy to do something now,
acting on emotions, that she would regret later.
Buffy nodded. "Completely." She looked away across the table, and at
last the corners of her mouth turned up in the ghost of a smile. "He
doesn't need a chip," she informed her friend. "He's got me."
Spike had been awake again for several hours now, and Cordova had
wasted no time in getting back to their "conversation". This time,
however, she had been careful, inflicting just as much pain as she
possibly could without driving her prisoner to unconsciousness.
She had been interrogating him for hours. She had started off by firing
the chip again, and then went on to try several of the little "toys" on
the table at his bedside, eventually returning to the chip again. His
body was a mess of various cuts, bruises, and odd burns from the
incredibly brutal amount of electricity she had sent coursing through
him, but still he would not tell her anything.
"Where did they take her?" she demanded yet again, leaning over the
shaking, agonized creature, bound helplessly to the table in front of
her.
He swallowed hard, his body tensing further in anticipation of
punishment, but still not uttering a sound.
"You know," she said softly. "I think you've gotten too used to the
shocks. They don't seem to be having much of an effect anymore. Maybe...a
little break?" she suggested mildly, as if they were simply having a
casual conversation.
She walked to the chair placed near the foot of his bed, over which she
had hung his coat when she had brought him to this room. He had
received the same treatment as Buffy, and had not been allowed the
slightest remnant of dignity or protection, being stripped completely
before he was bound to the table.
He watched with growing apprehension as she reached absently into the
pocket of his coat, and took out his cigarettes and lighter. "Hmm," she
observed with pleasant surprise in her voice. "My brand." She flashed
him a wicked smile that sent a chill of fear down his spine, before
lighting up one of his cigarettes.
She took a long, slow drag as she walked slowly back to his side,
flicking some ashes onto the floor as she reached him.
"*I* feel better," she smiled coolly, leaning down close to him. "Shall
we try again?"
He looked away, sure that this time his fear would show in his eyes.
She was right. He had begun to prepare himself for the shocks before
they hit. Something – anything – different would probably be much more
"effective" at this point.
And what he was certain by now that she had in mind was extremely
painful, moreso to him than it would have been to a human. Fire was one
of the few weaknesses his kind was cursed with, and he fought with the
very natural fear that threatened to overtake him.
Her smile hardened as she suddenly reached out one hand to fist in his
damp, disheveled blonde curls. With the chip's prevention of even the
slightest resistance, he could not move his head at all, as her other
hand brought the cigarette it held within inches of his face.
He was breathing hard by now, choking back his own rising panic, as she
asked softly, "One more time, Hostile. Where is she?"
He would gladly suffer death before he would ever betray Buffy; he bit
down on the inside of his lip, steeling himself for the pain,
determining that no matter what she did, he *would not* tell her.
The general shook her head in mild amazement, laughing softly at the
strength of his will. "You're far too stubborn for your own good,
Hostile," she smirked, as she pressed the burning tip of the cigarette
to his cheek, her smile widening when he jerked in pain and let out a
little cry, quite against his own will.
She held the thing there for several seconds, leaving it against his
skin, dragging it slowly downward toward his mouth as she asked again,
"Where, Hostile?"
He shook his head slightly, as much as he could, his eyes tightly
closed, his mouth set in determination in spite of the pain. It didn't
matter what she did; she could hold the bloody thing to his flesh until
he ignited and burned to death. He would not betray the woman he loved.
Willow gasped and let out a pained little cry, holding her head as she
doubled over in agony.
"Will! Willow stop!" Buffy urgently called, through what sounded to
Willow like a dense fog. Gripping her shoulders, Buffy shook her
gently, insisting, "Come on, Will, come back!"
With an intense mental effort and force of her will, Willow wrenched
herself out of the trance-like state she had gone into moments before.
She had been attempting to use the mental connection she had made
earlier to contact Spike, to tell him about their plan.
Her wide, panicked eyes met Buffy's and she gasped, "Oh, God, Buffy! We
have to get him out of there, *now*!"
"He's in a lot of pain, isn't he?" Buffy realized, her voice low with
fear and rage. "She's hurting him."
Willow nodded. "I felt it. I felt it just like it was me and not him.
Oh, God, Buffy...we've got to just go ahead and do it."
"He has to know we're doing it, or it might not do him any good," Buffy
pointed out.
"I – I can try again in a little while," Willow reluctantly nodded. "I
mean – that was – that was really intense, Buffy. It was awful. But the
chips are going down, whether he knows it or not. Now."