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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters that you recognize from the Buffy television show and don't make money off of them.
Oh-oh. That can't be good, he thought. "I am?"
"Yeah. You've got slot number four." He waved to one of the... the altars getting set up on the dance floor. Yeah. Definitely not good. Cole thought about stunning Sam Spade here and making a break for it, but heart of courage lady was looking over the room with a keen eye and both hands on her rifle. Cole wouldn't last a second. Terror overcoming him, he suffered himself to be led towards the stone altar. One other unfortunate soul had already taken her place, and two more were being 'selected' even now. That only left one more slot to fill...
(Outside the Bronze front door.)
Mister Trick sighed and banged the damn staff against the wooden door. He wasn't cut out for shit like this... quite frankly Trick just wanted the whole damn caper to be over. But he didn't want it to end with some sacrifice that would ruin the Mayor's plans, of course, and there was just enough natural stubborness in him that he didn't want to let this stupid stick of wood go unless it was actually necessary. He didn't have a clue what it did, but it would certainly be a feather in Trick's cap to bring it back to Wilkins and say that the hostage sitaution had been defused without having to give it up. No, not just a feather - it would be a whole damn BIRD in his cap!
"Just a second," a voice called out after a few seconds. It was more than that - it was almost a minute before a dim buzz indicated that the security lock was being overriden and the normal lock was unlocked. Three figures were facing him - bearing a submachine gun, a friendly outstreched hand, and a flamethrower, in order.
"Hi," the friendly one said. "I'm Jim, nice to meet you, and all that. You packing anything? Besides the staff, that is?"
"Nope," Trick said. "You can frisk me if you like, but no-one touches the damn staff until you release your hostages."
"Or what?" Submachine-guy put his gun aside, (perhaps divining that Trick was vampire and the weapon wouldn't be fatal to him,) and stepped threateningly up to him. "Suppose I tried to take it off of you right now."
"I'd snap the damn thing. I don't want to do that, of course, but I'd do it if you made me."
"Okay," Jim said. "We'll be happy to release the prisoners first - once I'm satisfied that you'll release the staff at that point, and once we've verified that this nice-looking hunk of wood really is the Staff of shadows. This way, please," he said, indicating the way into the club.
(In and above the management office.)
Faith peered carefully down into the office from the crack in the ceiling, then turned to Jonny. "They're down there, and awake," she reported. "One vamp in with them - the nerd, and he's watching them, but listening to something at the security board. I think we could talk to them."
"Well, okay then, honey," Jonny said, smiling at her. "Go ahead."
Faith looked at him a second, shrugged, and bent down over the small hole again. "Willow? Cordelia??" she hissed in a whisper that hopefully could be heard directly beneath her but wouldn't carry very well.
"Who is it?" Willow whispered back faintly.
"It's Faith. We're gonna get you out of there, but we need to know what these creeps are up to. Have you heard anything help--"
"They're trying to blackmail a local evil wizard out of some staff," Willow replied. "They're threatening some sort of rival human sacrifice to do it. Oh, and one of them wants to turn me into a vampire love slave!"
"What?" Faith said out loud in surprise. "Oh, okay. Uh, yeah, that should help. The info about what they're up to. Sit tight - we'll nail these guys, okay?"
"Okay," Willow whispered back. "I'll try."
(Meanwhile, in and near the kitchen...)
...Buffy was applying Faith's idea to a different situation. She had made her way into a vent that ran along the kitchen wall. Now, if she was right, and lucky...
"Oz? Are you there?"
"Huh?" Someone skittered closer to the vent. "Buffy? Is that you?"
"The one and only," Buffy whispered back. "What's the situation?"
"Well, they've got us guarded up pretty tight here," Oz started.
"Buffy Summers? Is that you?" another voice asked.
"Uh..." Buffy stalled.
"Yeah, it is," Oz confirmed. "Buffy, that was Leslie."
"Are you okay, Buffy?" Leslie asked. "That knife the one vampire threw at you seemed to have pierced the subclavian artery."
"Vampire..." Buffy put it together. "Oz, did you tell her that?"
"Yeah," the wereboy admitted without a trace of regret.
"I'm fine," Buffy assured her.
"I saw the Michelle Pfeiffer girl take a guarding position right near the back door," Leslie said thoughtfully. "You'd probably look a lot like her, in the same costume, Buffy."
"Huh? That trick only works in the movies, Leslie."
"I'm not so sure," Leslie defended her idea. "Whoever these guys are, they certainly haven't memorized each other's faces - they're depending on the headbands for identification. You can tell that - they always look at the top of each other's head before dealing as equals."
Hmm. "Maybe, against some of the other henchpersons, it could work," Buffy decided. "Thanks."
"Any time," Leslie told her.
"Good luck," Oz added.
"Thanks for that, too." Buffy scrambled back along the vent, and climbed her way back up. Faith and Jonny were waiting for her there.
"So, what's the word?" Buffy asked as she climbed out of the dusty vent.
"Willow says it's an extortion thing - trying to squeeze a magic staff out of a local wizard. If he doesn't pay up, they sacrifice five teenagers to a rival whoosy, or something," Faith told her. "And one of the brotherhood wants Willow as a vampire love slave.
"They seem to be all set up for the sacrifices," Jonny observed. "That's why they moved the prisoners away - they needed the dance floor free for this." He indicated the five altars down on the dance floor, each with a teenager strapped to it.
"Okay," Buffy said. "It's time we make our move, then, I say. We've got our opening. The only problem is, we'll have to hit the backstage first, get those hostages out, then figure out how to tackle the sacrificers on the dance floor, and the big guys in the office."
"Works for me, I guess," Faith said. "Everybody packing?" She held out a stake, makeshift from an old chair that had been up in the catwalks, and both Buffy and Jonny brandished similar weapons.
"Charge," Jonny whispered softly.
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