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FIC: Alien-Game (3/?)

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  • Keith
    FIC: Alien-Game (3/?) Bond scowled as he looked around the demolished fortress. It had taken three torturous, nail-biting, days to make their way to the
    Message 1 of 1 , Jun 27, 2006
      FIC: Alien-Game (3/?)

      Bond scowled as he looked around the demolished fortress. It had
      taken three torturous, nail-biting, days to make their way to the
      Council headquarters, avoiding both ground and air patrols. During
      their journey they'd seen corpses piled high on pyres, and
      devastated buildings, including the shattered remains of Big Ben and
      Buckingham Palace.

      Bond tore his gaze away from the wrecked structure and to the
      picture on his laptop. The carnage was a million miles away from
      the forbidding 11th century castle that had once stood there. "How
      are we supposed to find someone alive in this?" Frank Martin asked
      in what Bond had come to recognise as his trademark growl.

      "Oh," Bond froze at a cultured voice behind them, "I'd be rather
      more worried about living through the next few minutes. Raise your
      hands and turn around, slowly mind. Any sudden movements will
      result in death."

      Bond obeyed, turning in a semi-circle to find his group confronted
      by a group of hard-looking men and women wielding a collection of
      medieval weaponry. "Mr. Giles," he directed his gaze to the fifty-
      something man leading the group, "given what I've read about you,
      it's a pleasure and an honour to meet you sir."

      "You seem to have the advantage of me," the grime-covered and
      seemingly unimpressed Watcher retorted. "Now we've spent the last
      three days burrowing out of a caved-in escape tunnel. We're tired,
      hungry, confused, angry, and dirty. Always an explosive mixture.
      So we'd appreciate some prompt answers."

      "Of course," Bond managed an unruffled nod. "I'm James Bond of her
      majesty's secret service. This," he nodded towards the shaven-
      headed muscleman, "is Frank Martin, formerly of the SAS. And Lady
      Croft-."

      "I recognised Lady Croft," the Head Watcher interrupted. "My
      respect for her is the only reason the three of you aren't lying
      flat on your backs with bolts through your throats. But my patience
      is far from infinite."

      Bond blinked. Well that was blunt. "The answers are here," he
      offered his laptop. "If you'd like to have a look."

      His fellow Englishman stared at him for a second as if gauging his
      sincerity before nodding. "Kennedy, please get that computer for
      me." No-body moved. The Watcher glanced at the petite brunette by
      his side. "Kennedy, please," the Council head softly repeated.

      The blank-eyed beauty nodded before stalking over, snatching the
      computer and backing away. Giles nodded his thanks before turning
      to a diminutive youth stood at his other side. "Andrew, if you
      wouldn't mind."

      "Yes Mr. Giles!" the teen eagerly took the computer and began
      tapping at the keyboard. A few seconds and the boy's head snapped
      up, eyes alight with excitement. "Aliens! That is so cool!" The
      excitement dimmed. "Well, except for the dead."

      "Aliens!" Giles strode over to the boy. "Andrew! Explain!" The youth
      gave a garbled but essentially correct explanation of the Goa'uld
      and Jaffa. Giles' eyes snapped towards him. "And how does the
      government intend to respond?"

      Bond hesitated. "Step one is the enacting of the Pendragon
      Protocol." He had no idea what that meant.

      "Good lord," the astonished look on the faces of the Head Watcher
      and one of his subordinates, a grey-haired bulldog of a man, proved
      they at least did. "It's come to this," the man muttered before
      turning to his companions. "Please, lower your arms." The Watcher
      turned back to them. "There's twenty-eight of us, we'll need
      transport to The Cotswolds. More than just your three SUVs."

      "There's a largely abandoned village ten miles south of here," Lady
      Croft suggested. "We could go back, steal some cars, and come back
      here."

      "That's an excellent idea," interjected the older Watcher. "Myself
      and Robson could go with them, get a couple of extra cars. Oh, and
      Tracey," the Watcher smiled at a pretty red-head, "you and Camille
      both passed your tests last month. You two can come too."

      "Marvellous," Giles nodded. "By all means. We'll hide in the
      woodlands by the streams until your return."

      * *
      *

      Giles looked around the camp. Night had fallen, his group and
      Bond's dotted around their camp's half a dozen fires situated in the
      shadows of a forest. Muttered conversation bubbled around, a
      dejected air hanging heavy. "God," he let out a rattling sigh and
      closed his eyes.

      Indeed, only God would only know many people had died in the past
      few days. Certainly millions from all the destruction he'd seen.
      Tens of millions, maybe hundreds. An entire civilisation, an entire
      world decimated. "We'll rebuild it better," he promised. Nothing
      amazed him more than the human race's ability to endure.

      Opening his eyes, he looked around and noted a solitary figure sat
      huddled by a small pool. Sighing slightly, he rose and walked
      over. "Kennedy." Kennedy didn't look up from her inspection of the
      shimmering water. Giles bit back a groan. The Slayer hadn't spoken
      since she'd awoken after Willow's sacrifice. "Perhaps," he sat down
      on the log beside the Slayer, "you'd like to talk about Willow?"
      The Slayer remained stubbornly silent. "I know I'd like to talk
      about her to someone who loved her the way I did." The brunette
      twitched but didn't speak. "About her laugh, the way she'd babble-."

      "I…I miss her!" Suddenly the Slayer began to shake, tears streaking
      down her face.

      Finally, a breakthrough. Giles immediately took the sobbing girl in
      his arms. "I know dear," he stroked her hair. "I know, so do I."

      * *
      *

      "Um," Daniel looked up from his well-leafed book, a familiar puzzled
      look firmly in place, "I have a question. How are we supposed to
      find the Cleveland Slayers? It's a big city."

      Jack pursed his lips. Daniel had a good point. He'd been too
      consumed with thoughts of meeting his daughter to actually consider
      the problem of finding her. "I thought we'd head for their base,"
      he finally replied. "And from there just follow the trail of Jaffa
      corpses."

      "You feel that your ability to cause trouble is a genetic trait?"
      Teal'c asked. His answering glare bounced off the impassive alien.

      * *
      *

      "In here," Faith tossed the crookedly-hanging door aside. After a
      quick look left and right, she beckoned her companions across the
      deserted street. Her friends obeyed, a huffing, grimacing Xander
      bringing up the rear.

      Once the last of her party was in, Faith looked around the darkened
      shop. It had cracked windows, a dusty floor, and several trays
      filled with bread and pastries on top of its counter. Faith's
      stomach growled, reminding her just how long it had been since any
      of them had eaten. "K," she whispered. "Dig in."

      As she and the others dived into the food, ignoring the fact it
      wasn't exactly fresh, Faith realised that one of their group hadn't
      joined in. Taking a silver tray of donuts, she strode over to
      Xander sat leaning against the wall. "Here," she whispered as she
      offered the tray, "ya gotta keep your strength up."

      Xander shifted uncomfortably. He didn't complain, but his ribs were
      obviously still hurting. "I'm not hungry," the man muttered.

      "Please, X," Faith pleaded, heart twisting at the desolation on the
      man's face. "I'm trying to keep it together, but I need your help."

      "Okay," her Watcher forced a smile as he reached for a strawberry
      sugared donut, "thanks."

      "I was gonna have that one." X stopped. "Just kiddin'." The
      Watcher took the donut and bit. "I saw you trying your cell, still
      nothing?" Faith sighed as Xander shook his head. "Ditto." Faith
      paused for a second. "I was think maybe we should head to LA."
      Seeing Xander's eye harden and his donut filled mouth open, Faith
      hurried on. "I get your worried about Red, B, and G, but I'm
      worried about Fang too. And if we have been invaded by aliens,
      there's no way planes are gonna be flying across the pond to
      Europe. We can at least maybe get to LA."

      Xander stared at her for a long second before speaking. "We'll need
      to get a hold of one of these invaders, see what they exactly are."

      Faith nodded. "Deal. But as we don't know how tough they are,
      leave it to us Slayers, k?"

      Her Watcher's lips thinned and his mouth opened in protest. Then he
      slowly, reluctantly, nodded. "Deal."

      "Wicked," Faith nestled into her Watcher's uninjured side. The
      Californian stared down at her, eyes bemused. "I'm cold, body
      heat," she lied.

      * *
      *

      "Oh no," Angel's blood congealed to ice as he eased the manhole
      cover aside and peered up into LA.

      An ash-grey cloud had settled in the sky, making it impossible to
      tell if it was day or night. Rubble from LA's levelled buildings
      littered the cracked roads as far as the eye could see. The same
      roads were filled with abandoned cars while corpses lay everywhere,
      the stench of death clogging his nose.

      For a long second he stared around, unable to believe what he was
      seeing and wishing with all his might it wasn't real. "I grow tired
      of these sewers," Illyria commented beneath him.

      "Yeah, sorry." Shaking himself, he climbed out into the battle-
      ravaged wasteland. Connor and Gwen's faces greyed to the colour of
      the city as they climbed out. Angel opened his mouth to comfort his
      son then closed it. Just what could he say?

      * *
      *

      Du'kat halted as he caught a glimpse of something moving in the
      shadows of the mouth of a near-by alley. He levelled his staff
      weapon at the alley mouth. "Out!" Nothing shifted, but he thought
      he heard a sharp intake of breath. He fired a blast into the ground
      at the alley's entrance, burning gravel, before raising the staff
      again. "Come out," he sternly repeated.

      "D..don't shoot!" His mouth dried when a curvy young woman exited
      the alley, her hands raised in surrender. Du'kat's mouth dried as
      he stared at the beauty. Black leather stuck to the woman's firm
      body, the top three buttons of her shirt unbuttoned, giving an
      alluring hint of her breasts' full swell. Raven hair bounced down
      onto her shoulder, framing her heart-shaped alabaster face in a
      pleasing contrast. Full red lips parted in a seductive plea while
      her soft brown eyes stared at him.

      "Spoils of war," Du'kat muttered. His god would be very pleased
      with this prize. He would gain much prestige when he handed her
      over. "What is your -." Hearing a sound behind him, he started to
      turn.

      Seeing a black-skinned lovely scurrying across the street, he aimed
      his weapon. "Halt!"

      Hearing a sound to his right, he began to turn again. Seeing a blur
      drop from the fire escape ahead, he looked up. Before he had time
      to react his weapon was snatched out of his grasp and an incredibly
      strong foot smashed into his chest, denting the armour and knocking
      him onto his back. He tried to rise only to be grabbed around the
      throat by the leather-clad brunette and flung into the wall, stone
      chipping under the impact. "Now," the suddenly dangerous-eyed woman
      snarled, "how about some answers?"

      * *
      *

      "Shit," Faith shook her head as their prisoner finished speaking.
      What a fucking mess. "So, aliens?" She started to turn towards
      Xander. "What are we gonna do -."

      An energy blast flew past her, almost singing her hair, and smashed
      into the Jaffa's head, splattering it onto the gravel behind him.
      Eyes wide, she join the others in staring at a staff-wielding
      Xander. "One less to kill," their stone-faced Watcher
      announced. "We'll head back to the mansion, get some supplies, out
      of the basement, steal a car, and head to LA. Come on."

      * *
      *

      Jack looked at the map and list of directions, and back at the
      crumpled building. His heart tightening, he passed the list to Sam
      for her to check, hoping desperately he'd made a mistake. "Is
      it…." His voice trailed off.

      His girl-friend squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Jack."

      His head dropped as he forced back tears. It was scant days since
      he'd discovered his daughter and now it seemed he'd lost her before
      he'd even met her. "If your daughter was in there, it is unlikely
      she survived, General O'Neill."

      "Thanks, Teal'C," he snapped. "I'd managed to work that out for
      myself." Teal'c raised an unflustered eyebrow.

      "Well isn't this cute," a husky voice commented behind them. "The
      question I gotta ask is what the hell are three air force personnel
      doin' hangin' with a Jaffa?"

      "And," a deeper voice added. "Your answers had better be real
      convincing."
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