Angel - Shakedown Part 24

"I was on the bottom floor of some kind of mall. All the stores seemed to have something to do with my life-there was even a place having a sale on all the clothes I've ever worn, stuff from when I was a kid right up to my latest sports bra. It wasbizarre."

"Tell me about it," Angel muttered.

"Ohhh," Sarah groaned. "What-where am I? What's going on?"

"Looks like she's coming out of it," Fisca said. "The other guy's still zonked."

"Sarah?" Angel said. "You're among friends. Listen to me very carefully. . . ." Angel explained as best he could, making the Tremblors sound like acult that dressed up in strange costumes and drugged their victims.

When he was done, Sarah said, "What are they going to do with us?"

"Nothing," Angel said flatly. "I won't let them, and I have a.s.sociates who know what's happened to me.

Don't worry, help is on its way . . ."

You've captured the vampire?a.s.sociate Rome thought.What a pleasant surprise.

I thought you might be pleased,Baasalt responded.Our previous contacts gave me the impression you and he have clashed before.

Not directly. However, his interests are generally at odds with my employers. They would be most pleased if I could provide evidence of his demise.

Perhaps you would like to attend the ritual? The Crushing of Souls? I didn't think outsiders were allowed.

I am First Warrior-Priest. I am sure I can convince the Grounding to make an exception, but I would require a favor in return.

When Baasalt told him what he needed, Rome chuckled to himself, then agreed to supply what Baasalt had asked for.

Baasalt had a plan.

After leaving the Tremblors, he had tunneled to aspot much closer to the Skin of the World, collapsing the tunnel behind him. He did not think the Grounding would send anyone after him, but he wanted to ensure his privacy.

Normally, the Tremblors were spread throughout the Body of the World; over the last year, they had slowly been gathering under L.A. The Crushing of Souls was one of the few times all the Tremblors would come together physically, in the presence of the Grounding. That was when he would strike.

He couldn't risk contacting any of the other warrior-priests beforehand; when the moment came, he would have to gamble that enough would stand with him to let him act. He was reasonably sure Feldspaar and Maarl would be among his allies- but far from certain.

Alone in self-imposed exile, he shivered with the delicious, chaotic,unpredictabilityof it all . . .

"Do you really think this'll work?" Galvin asked.

"It's gotta," Doyle answered.

They stood in Galvin's apartment. All the wrecked furniture and art had been removed; it was now a staging area for an invasion. Lumber for shoring up tunnels was stacked against one wall, while shovels, buckets and mining helmets were still being unpacked. The tunnel entrance the Tremblorshad made was now brightly illuminated as busy Serpentene rigged lights and ventilation.

"Wow," Cordelia said, pulling clothing from a crate. "I didn't know Armanimadeindustrial coveralls."

"What about the other thing?" Doyle asked nervously.

"It's on its way," Galvin a.s.sured him. "I hope we can get it down the tunnel, but you seem to know what you're doing."

"Oh, I'm practically an expert," Doyle said. "I've seenThe Great Escapefive times."

"Hopefully, we won't have to do too much actual digging," Galvin said. "If your reasoning holds, the Tremblors will only have collapsed short lengths of their tunnels, making it easier if they decide to return."

"And preparation for their ritual should keep 'em too occupied to post guards," Doyle added. "I don't think they'll be expectin' us t'take the fight to their turf."

"I don't know about this, Galvin," Maureen said, stepping over to his side. "We're not soldiers. What if it doesn't work? What if they decide to retaliate? What if-what if-" She was close to tears.

"We have to do something," Galvin said softly. He put a hand on Maureen's shoulder. "As it stands, they think they can attack us anytime they want. Wehave to show them they're wrong; not out of pride or anger, but as a simple matter of survival. Come on, Maureen-you're a tough negotiator, you know how this works. We don't show some backbone now, they'll eat us for breakfast."

Maureen gave him a shaky smile and wiped her eyes. "I know, I know. But it's hard to be strong when all I can think of is the kids."

"Hang in there," Cordelia said. "We've still got Angel, too. Prisoner or not, he'll come through. He always does. Why, I bet he's cooking up a brilliantly violent escape plan right now . . ."

"Got any threes?" Angel asked.

"Go fish," said Fisca.

Angel sighed. "You know, this would be a lot easier if we had cards."

"What for? We couldn't see 'em anyway. And it was your idea in the first place."

"They haven't fed us. That's a bad sign," Sarah said. Her voice was calm, almost detached. "It's one of the things they taught us at flight school. In a hostage situation, if they don't feed you it's because they're planning to kill you."

"Just take it easy," Angel said. "n.o.body's getting killed."

"Don't patronize me," Sarah said. "I'm not hysterical, I'm not in shock. I may not be a paratrooper,but I've been trained to handle myself under stress. This definitely qualifies."

"I'm sorry," Angel said. "I wasn't sure how you were handling things. The last time we talked you thought I was a fourteen-year-old girl."

"How's our other friend?" Sarah asked.

"Still breathing," Fisca said. "He needs a doctor, though-and soon."

Rome waited for Baasalt in a sewer. He was dressed in top-of-the-line mountaineering gear, from his Gore-Tex jacket to his expensive hiking boots. He sat on top of a waterproof crate, his bony frame perched like some kind of underground stork. He smoked a cigarette and watched the dirty water swirl past.

The curving cement wall twenty feet away began to hum, then to vibrate. It exploded outward in a shower of concrete chunks.

Baasalt appeared in the new opening.Rome. You have brought what I requested?

"It's right here," Rome said, patting the crate.

The Tremblor stalked forward, splashing through the water and stopping in front of Rome. The thin man hopped off the crate, leaned over it and popped the latch, showing the Quake demon what he'd brought.

Baasalt studied the contents quietly.Good,hethought at last. He closed the crate, relatched it and then picked it up, tucking it under one ma.s.sive arm.Come with me.

Baasalt returned to the opening he'd made. a.s.sociate Rome followed.

They'd tried, over and over, to come up with a plan. The best they could do was demand medical help on the pretext that the lifeguard was about to die; Angel was pretty sure the Tremblors needed him alive for the ceremony. But an hour of yelling had gotten them nothing but sore throats, and the boulder the entrance was blocked with was too large for even Angel to move.

So now they sat in the dark, each one alone with his or her thoughts. Their voices were too hoa.r.s.e for casual conversation.

Angel's thoughts kept turning to Maria.

Angel had wished, more than once, that he could separate himself completely from the actions of Angelus. That he could saythis is me and what I've doneandthat was him, that was all his doing.But he couldn't, because it wasn't true. He rememberedbeingAngelus, he remembered every detail with crystal clarity.

Worst of all, he remembered how much he'd liked it.

Just like Angelus said.

And what he'd done to Maria . . . he'd actually been proud of that. Darla had called him a genius. They had entertained themselves more than once by trying to guess which choice Maria had finally made, whether she'd tried to gnaw her way free or had simply given up and waited to die, waited for her thirst and hunger to grow. Waited for the rats.

And whether the choice she'd made had driven her mad.

He'd never gone back to check. Other diversions kept him entertained. For all he knew, she'd survived, grown stronger as a result of her ordeal and gone on to have a long life.

Sometimes he almost believed that. Now was not one of those times.

For a hundred years he'd punished himself, retreating into a lonely, filthy existence. The only thing that had kept him from suicide was the guilt itself; death would be an escape, and he deserved to suffer.

That old black pit of despair still yawned beneath him, making him feel like he lived on a tightrope stretched across it-but he'd found something that gave him balance.

He helped others now. While that also added to his burden, it gave him a reason to go on, to refuse to dive off that tightrope. Part of Angel truly believed he belonged sealed in a cave in the bowelsof the Earth-but it was countered by the belief that Sarah, Fisca and the lifeguard did not.

They would not die, alone in the dark. They would not have to make one final, terrible choice.

Even if Angel had to die in their place.

a.s.sociate Rome followed Baasalt for the better part of an hour, a Mag-lite discreetly pointed downward to ensure his footing.

I'm surprised you accepted my offer,Baasalt thought.

"I have very good reasons for doing so," Rome answered aloud in his gravelly voice. "The vampire has interfered in our firm's business before. The senior partners would view someone who could eliminate that interference in a very favorable light."

You are not the one doing the eliminating,Baasalt pointed out.

"Perhaps not directly . . . but ultimately, I am responsible. Most importantly, I am the one who will bring confirmation of the vampire's demise. In my world, a messenger bringing bad news is sometimes blamed for the news itself-and I can a.s.sure you, the opposite principle applies."

Ah. I believe I understand. News is information leading to change. My people also have strong feelings about this concept.

"And how do they tend to react?"

That is yet to be decided.

Baasalt suddenly stopped. His body language suggested he was listening, but Rome heard nothing. If he were communicating with his people, it was at a frequency Rome couldn't receive.

"Baasalt?" he prompted.

Baasalt held up a hand, signaling Rome to wait.

After a full minute, Baasalt began to move forward again. His thoughts were strangely silent.

Angel jumped to his feet when he heard the sound of the boulder being moved aside. A second later, a thin beam of light shone through the crack.

"Who's there?" Angel asked.

"My name is Rome," a voice rasped. "I doubt if you know who I am."

Angel sniffed the air. "Maybe not, but I recognize the smell. Lawyer, with a hint of brimstone. I'd say you work for Wolfram and Hart."

Rome chuckled throatily. "Very good-but then, thatisyour profession. Or at least it was."

"Wolfram and Hart?" Sarah gasped. "But-but they're who represented me last year."

"That they did, Miss Clark. Have you forgotten our arrangement?"

"Whatarrangement?" Sarah demanded. "Mylawyer said something about my being a possible future a.s.set, but I thought-oh."

"You thought we meant to utilize your abilities as a smuggler," Rome said. He coughed. "Excuse me-rock dust." He cleared his throat, then continued. "You thought that since we so cleverly got you acquitted-when you were undeniably in possession of a large quant.i.ty of cocaine-that we would require your services in a similar capacity. Sadly, that is not the case."

"I know this bloodsucker," Fisca growled. The light shifted to her face, making her blink.

"h.e.l.lo, Louise," Rome said. "Yes, I remember you, as well. One doesn't quickly forget a woman who burned her ex-lover to death. Actually, you're the only one I've met before; the rest of you I got from our files."

The light shifted again, coming to rest on the slack face of the lifeguard. "I see Mr. Norden isn't doing so well. If he regains consciousness before he dies, ask him if he's gotten over that nasty little serial-rape problem of his."

There was a moment of strained silence.

"Why are you here?" Angel said. "You come all this way just to gloat?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Actually, I came down to tell you the details ofmy evil scheme, Angel-all the pieces of the puzzle you haven't quite figured out. The reason for all this intrigue, the machinations behind the scenes, all the hard work I've put in with n.o.body to appreciate my brilliance. n.o.body, of course, but my n.o.ble adversary.

And now that you're about to die, I see no reason not to share my-excuse me-my plans-" He began to cough, then hawked and spat.

"This dust is really getting to my throat," he said. "You know, never mind. Have a nice death."

The boulder slid back into place, cutting off the beam of light.

"I don't think I like that guy," Angel said.

CHAPTER TWELVE.