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Chapter 10
Home is Where You Hang Your Hat
“Welcome to Firebase Majestic, gentlemen. Now please convince me not to have you shot as saboteurs.”The man to whom the guards had led Hudson and Aston seemed a bit of a paradox. He was somewhere in his thirties, but with a lot of miles on him that showed themselves in a weathered face and hard, world-weary demeanor. But Aston thought there was something else underneath, a flash of rebellion, of nonconformity. He didn’t seem to be a man who had been destined from birth to a military life, or who would have chosen such a path if left entirely to his own devices.
Aston’s eyes strayed to the man’s name patch. “COL PIKE”, it said.
Wars made for some unconventional leaders. Pike appeared to be one of them.
“This is the first human habitation we’ve seen in months,” said Aston. “I can only assure you that neither of us have any particular desire to blow it up.”
Pike moved aside the parts of a field-stripped .45 pistol he was cleaning and regarded the two men across his gray metal desk. They were deep inside Area 51’s main complex, the complex Pike called “Firebase Majestic”.
“We’ll take some blood. I hope you don’t mind, but it’s a prudent precaution around here. If you pass the blood screening as human, you’re halfway there. My main concern is that you’re not collaborators.”
“Collaborators? With vampires and demons? Not fucking likely,” said Hudson.
“Easy, Corporal,” said Aston. “It’s not unheard of, after all. Demons promise an awful lot. They don’t deliver, but they don’t mind promising.”
“Have a seat. Let’s have a little talk,” said Pike, gesturing to the guest chairs. The guards remained with their weapons at the ready lest Hudson or Aston confused politeness with lax security.
Pike opened a desk drawer and came up with a half-empty bottle of whiskey and three metal mess kit cups. He carefully poured a finger of whiskey into the cups and slid two of them to Hud and Aston. The aroma of the amber alcohol mixed oddly with the scent of Hoppe’s powder solvent wafting from the field stripped .45.
“You two look like you know your way around weapons,” he said.
“I’ve heard it said,” Aston replied. He understood Pike’s game. The Colonel was feeling the newcomers out, trying to trip them up on seemingly innocuous conversation that demons sometimes had trouble with.
“Military?”
Hud looked a question at Aston, not certain how to reply, but the British commando wasn’t the least bit hesitant.
“SAS for me, then a covert anti-vampire, anti-demon unit. Hudson here’s ex?SEAL, then went in with me in the same ghost-busting line of work.”
Pike whistled approvingly. “If you’re on the level, we could really use you two, especially with what we think is going to be coming down soon.”
“Man, we’ve been here for six months, ain’t run into but a dozen vamps and a couple of demons all that time,” said Hudson. “So what’s with the Alamo routine here?”
Pike sighed and said, “You’re not seeing much activity out in No Man’s Land because the countryside’s been stripped bare. Nothing human to feed on anymore. We’re one of the last groups of humans who survived the ten year war after the Harvest and the Master’s rise to power. We’ve managed to contact some of the others via short wave — one in Cheyenne Mountain, Wyoming, about half a dozen groups in Russia, an Aussie bunch holed up deep in the Outback, some others. We think there might be more. We don’t really know how many humans are still alive, but our deep recon patrols tell us that its a wasteland for two hundred miles in every direction. At least that was what they were telling us. A little over a month ago, we learned that the demons and vampires have been massing in staging areas south of here for a final push against us. You’re lucky you didn’t land right in the middle of one.”
Pike raised his cup in a toast. “So congrats, gentlemen. You’ve just landed yourselves in the middle of humanity’s last stand, if you want in on it.”
“How many bad guys we talking about?” asked Hud.
“Our estimates? Half a million. Versus five thousand of us.”
Aston whistled. “Hundred to one odds? Hate to tell you this, but you’re screwed.”
Pike gave a small, fatalistic grin. “Maybe. But during the war this was a major weapons research facility. The eggheads were trying to take the technology from the saucer that crashed in Roswell and turn it into new weapons. So the military turned this place into a fortress in case it needed to be defended against an all-out assault. We’ve got artillery batteries on the surrounding ridges for fire support, with lines of retreat back to the safety of the base. Thanks to the military and civilian techies and mechanics that were still holding on here when we moved in, we’ve still got four operational Apaches with ordnance, three Cobra gunships, and two A-10s. The perimeter is monitored by seismic, thermal, and motion sensors. We’ve got a dozen HUMVEEs mounting fifty calibers, about fifty Sport Utility Vehicles we’ve bolted armor and machine guns to, three Bradleys, and four M1-A main battle tanks we use as mobile field artillery. We’ve even got two MLRS rocket systems with a dozen reloads apiece. And finally, to cap it all off, we’ve got a little thing the Groom Lake eggheads cobbled together from the Roswell technology called a gravity wave cannon. It cuts a hundred-meter swath through just about anything for up to ten miles. Given a lot of luck and perfect planning, we might just be able to hold this place.”
It was Hudson’s turn to whistle approvingly. Aston just grunted and said, “I’d like to take a look at your planning, especially your artillery doctrine. That’ll be the key to breaking the back of a ground assault. There’s nothing so sad as misused artillery, and nothing quite so glorious as big guns used properly,” said Aston.
“True. Of course, now that I’ve told you all of this, you two are dead men if we find out you’re not on the level,” said Pike coolly.
“Man, I get tired of people threatening to kill me sometimes,” said Hudson. “Gets old, you know?”
Pike was about to respond when an aide-de-camp bustled in with four armed guards in tow and two young women, a brunette and a redhead, in custody.
“We found these two up on Freedom Ridge, near where we nabbed them,” said the aide, nodding in the direction of Aston and Hud.
“You know these two?” Pike asked Aston.
“Not personally, no,” said the Briton. “But I have a feeling they know us quite well. They’ve been following us cross-country for the last few days. Got a nice little invisible jeep running out of visual phase, they do.”
“Don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure,” said Hudson to the two women. “Maybe it’s time we did.”
Pike looked at them without emotion. “I think you two better explain yourselves. Who are you and why are you here?”
The brunette shot him a surly look while the redhead comported herself as if she were in complete control of the situation.
“My name is Erin Delacey,” she said, “and I’m a Vampire Slayer. This is Xandra Harris. We’re here to help you take back this planet.”
* * *
“… and that’s the backstory — abridged but thematically intact,” said Buffy, sidestepping to keep clear of the guards who were hoisting Gantz, now trussed with the electrical cord from a handy lamp, to his feet.
Angel let out a long breath.
“Wow,” he said. Then again, “Wow.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to just burst back into your life like this.”
“Dramatic entrances have always been a specialty of yours, Buffy.”
“Yeah, unfortunately, my exits tend to be even more dramatic and a lot harder on the people I love.”
The security men departed with their charge, and Xander said, “I’m getting a real definite ‘three’s not company’ feeling here, so I think I’ll step outside for a few minutes and leave you two alone.”
“Thanks Xander. You know I want to spend some time with you, but right now …” began Buffy awkwardly.
“Right now you don’t need me around, Buff. I’m not as clueless as I used to be.”
“You were never clueless, Xander. I’ll talk to you later. We have a lot of catching up to do, you and I.”
“Yeah. Maybe too much,” said Xander, closing the damaged door behind him as he left.
Buffy used a convenient paperweight as a doorstop and let out a long sigh.
“Everything’s different, isn’t it? Xander, us, the world. It’s all changed. I wish it could all just stay the same forever. Just you, me, Xander, Willow, Oz … all of us never drifting apart or …” Buffy began, but she didn’t know how to complete the thought. Her mind was a maelstrom of confusion and doubt, and she wasn’t even sure what she meant to say, the real meaning behind it. It was all just words filling an emptiness.
She and Angel suddenly found themselves left alone in awkward silence, the gulf of time becoming a tangible, palpable gap of bottomless quiet. It had been so long, and now that the moment had arrived Buffy felt not so much joy as regret and a profound sense that she had abandoned both her husband and her daughter. And she felt out of place, as if after seventy five years she really no longer belonged to this world.
“How … how’s Elisa?” she asked tentatively.
“She’s good. Better than good. She’s graduating Julliard next year,” said Angel quickly, as if he too sensed how out of kilter it all was and was grasping for something, anything, to fill the silent void that mocked the both of them and what they once had together.
“Damn, this is hard. It shouldn’t be this hard,” said Buffy, feeling frustration and desperation starting to take hold of her emotions.
“It’s just … unexpected,” said Angel. Then, without warning he pulled her into a tight embrace. “I’m just glad you’re back. That’s the only thing that matters. Everything else will work itself out in time. It always has.”
She returned the embrace with equal fierceness, as if to let go would bring about some sort of unformed, inchoate doom, the same dark specter that always seemed to lurk in the shadows of her life, waiting to take away anything she held dear. She felt tears on her cheeks and said, “I never stopped trying to come back. I never stopped loving you.”
“I know,” said Angel softly, burying his face in her hair.
A long, quiet beat passed, until finally Buffy broke the silence and asked, “How are we going to tell Elisa about this?”
“She’s competing at Lincoln Center tomorrow night. We’ll go. We can tell her after. This a big chance for her and any distractions …”
“It’s okay, Angel. I’ve waited seventy five years. One more day isn’t going to make any difference. Besides, she probably hates me.”
Angel looked tenderly at her, a lifetime of memories and feelings flashing between them in an instant.
“No, not at all,” he said. “In fact, she’s very proud of you. Of course, with some of the tall tales Willow has spun about your Sunnydale days …”
“Willow!” Buffy exclaimed. “Is she around?”
“Yeah, she’s actually in Paramus right now in our forensics lab doing some analysis. Let me give her a call and tell her the good news.”
“Before I give her the bad news about Cade,” added Buffy. “I should get in touch with Giles …”
Angel’s look brought her up short.
“You mean …” she began.
“Seven years ago. I’m sorry. He was a good man,” said Angel.
Buffy felt a chasm open inside, a great lonely rift. Through everything, she’d always simply assumed that her Watcher would always be there for her, always be her source of wisdom and grown-up understanding. It was a foolish, silly subconscious notion that had always anchored her sense of who she was, but now Giles was gone, and she felt adrift again, rudderless and without a mooring in a vast, angry ocean.
She closed her eyes and fought back emotions that threatened to break through her psychological defenses. She swallowed past the tightness in her throat and said, “He was a good man. A good friend.”
“The best,” he said.
Buffy felt suddenly overwhelmed, as if an emotional squall had suddenly been unleashed within her. It was all too much at once, too much commingled joy and pain and regret and relief. She rested her head against his chest and only with Herculean effort managed to keep some small semblance of control over her emotions.
“I’ve missed you so much. God, how I’ve missed you,” she whispered.
Hesitantly at first, Angel put his arms around her again. She felt his tension and uncertainty, felt his conflicted and confused emotions as if they were her own. For a few terribly long seconds, dread gripped her heart and soul with an icy hand. What if it’s too late? What if he’s fallen in love with another? What if he hates me for abandoning him and Elisa? What if the old saying was right and I can’t go home again?
Then she felt his strong and reassuring hand stroke her hair as he had done so many times in her distant, better past, when she was young and foolish, when she was older and still so much in love with him, when they were married and intimately comfortable with each other as only long-time, knowing lovers can be. She knew then that there was hope, a chance at happiness again, and even if it was only a remote one then it was still far better than anything she’d had in seventy-five years. She closed her eyes and held him close, afraid to let go, unwilling to part with him after such a long, seemingly hopeless search.
“I love you,” she heard him say. Then he said it again, and once more, and then they were both perfectly quiet for a time, lost in each other’s embrace as if there were no world, no universe beyond their two enmeshed souls.
And for the very first time in three quarters of a century, Buffy knew peace in her heart even amid the chaos of her own destiny and the uncertainty of her homecoming. She smiled and knew that she was finally, truly, wonderfully home.
* * *
As jail cells went, Hudson had to admit that the one he was currently occupying was one of the better ones.
Most jail cells didn’t have DVD players and video games.
Yes, being detained in one of Firebase Majestic’s rec room was one of the more tolerable ways to be held in custody, but it still rankled despite the fact that he would have done the exact same thing in Pike’s shoes. Regardless of Pike’s casual and open demeanor in his office, Hudson knew that somewhere in the base decisions were being made and options discussed that would determine the fate of all four detainees.
It was the waiting that was the hard part. And it wasn’t made any easier by Aston. He’d pulled rank and insisted on putting “A Bridge Too Far” on the DVD player — all about brave Brits fighting a doomed battle against the Jerries in World War Two.
“Man, perfectly good collection of Eastwood pictures on the rack, you’ve got to choose that,” Hudson groused.
“Rank hath its privileges, Corporal,” was Aston’s matter-of-fact reply.
Hudson turned to Erin and Xandra. “See what I have to put up with? I don’t suppose you two would mind trading partners for oh, say, a couple of years?”
“And which one of you two would I get?” asked Xandra. “Because I can see definite advantages either way.”
“Down, Xandra,” said Erin, who was sitting cross-legged on one of the tables and seemed to be studiously contemplating the room in a very general, Zen sort of way. “I don’t think either one would put up with the litany of complaints, conspiracy theories, and all-encompassing statements of dissatisfaction with the multiverse that I must endure on a daily basis.”
“I don’t know,” mused Aston. “Sound’s exactly like Hudson, excepting of course that your friend isn’t nearly as tall, bald or black.”
“The Sarge is just jealous of my rugged good looks and natural charm,” said Hudson, flashing a brilliant white smile.
“And your humility,” added Aston.
At that moment their attention was drawn to the doors as Pike strode in with several soldiers in tow.
He looked at Aston. “Blood comes back human on all four of you, no supernatural properties. Mick, you and Hud seem to know your stuff, and right at the moment I’m looking for talent wherever I can dig it up. You two are on the probationary squad if you want in on the big game.”
“Man, just point me at what you want destroyed,” said Hudson. “Been too long with nothing to do. I’m in.”
Aston nodded. “You can count on us, Colonel. This is what we do, and you’ll find we are rather good at it.”
Pike turned to Erin. “As for you and your friend, it’s just lucky for you that I happen to have known a Slayer once, so it cuts considerable ice with me. If you really are a Vampire Slayer, I can definitely use you on my team.”
Erin smiled. “Count me in, but Xandra and I come as a matched set.”