Chapter Fifteen

Coup de Grace

 

 

 

 

So far so good, she thought as she sprinted up to the main door of the house. Just like clock work they had arrived precisely on time. Faith superbly provided the distraction for the guards at the main gate. In fact, Buffy had to hand it to her. She played the sexy harlot in distress so well that Buffy was going to be laughing from the guard’s horny expressions for a long time. Mmm…something to tease Spike about, she smiled to herself.

 

After that she had no problem scaling the wall where she sat and waited for the guard dogs to come. Which they did, right on time too, quickly she dispatched the dogs with the blow darts filled with tranquilizers that Oz gave her. And as they peacefully slumbered she ran across the expansive grounds.

 

Now standing on the porch, she closed her eyes. Her chest expanding with the deep soothing breaths she took. She counted to ten as her hands blindly lifted to the alarm pad hidden in the shadows of the alcove.

 

With her silky thin gloves she felt the electronic device lightly pulsing beneath her finger tips and her eyes opened.

 

Brilliantly green and shining with exuberance she looked at the pad her fingers flexing gracefully in the moonlight.

 

“Do we have a green, Hellcat?”

 

“5 x 5. See you on the outside Slick.”

 

Buffy nodded as her fingers punched in the code that Oz extracted from the alarm system. The LCD screen flashed green and she heard a pop. Smiling broadly under her black mask she reached for the gold knob and turned it slowly opening the door. She took one last look outside before stepping inside the house and quietly closing the door.

 

As soon as the door closed her ears sucked in and she felt like she was in an airplane. She feigned a yawn then swallowed a couple of times in an attempt to relieve the pressure. Finally her ears popped and she took a look around.

 

The room was dark except for spots of red laser beams where they interacted with the sensors used to detect them.. She was instantly reminded of the Museum heist.

 

That was the last time she had dealt with such sophisticated equipment. The last heist she had pulled off. It had been successful but still for one brief moment she questioned whether or not she still had it. Suddenly unsure of herself, she glanced around uneasily at her surroundings.

 

It was a beautiful rich home. There was no doubt in her mind that whoever lived here had a charmed life to be sure. The whole house reeked of money. They probably had a servant to do everything for them. They probably had someone that laid out their clothes in the morning and washed their backs when they showered. Hell, they probably had a maid to wipe their ass.

 

Looking at the fine and expensive art that hung on the walls, and the shiny marble tiles of the foyer she knew that she had been born with this skill. Born with the power and skill to take these people down a notch and make them like everyone else: vulnerable and unsafe.

 

People with this much money thought they were above everyone else and Buffy felt that it was her job to prove them wrong. She didn’t feel bad about illegally standing in someone else’s home eyeballing their stuff for herself.

 

Um…beautiful Van Gogh, ‘that would fetch a pretty price on the Market.’

 

In fact, she rather felt like Robin Hood, stealing from the rich and giving to the poor…me, she thought, grinning from ear to ear under her mask.

 

Like a bolt of lightening excitement filled her, adrenaline pumped through her veins and her fingers itched with anticipation. She smirked confidently under her mask; she didn’t have to think about it, she still had it.

 

With her confidence restored she relaxed and once more started to enjoy the moment until she heard his booming voice in her head as if he was standing behind her.

 

‘Don’t dillydally. Get in and get out!’

 

She shook her head, time to get to work. She took one last glance at the Van Gogh and mentally noted that she would have to come back for that one day.

 

Turning back to the door, she spied the glass covered panel that controlled the motion detectors just to the left of it. She flexed her fingers then nimbly entered the code, smiling as the glass cover slid open.

 

She remembered how annoyed she was with Angel when he made her repeat each and every code over and over again so she wouldn’t forget them. He was so diligently bothersome that way. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she practically had a photographic memory, one of her many helpful talents when it came down to thieving. After Oz handed her the piece of paper with all the codes on it, she had each and every one memorized after one read. She knew eventually she would have to tell him because there was no way she could deal with him pestering her like that on every job.

 

There was a soft zipping sound and she looked over her shoulder to see the telltale signs of the laser beams disappear. Smiling she turned toward the interior of the house, leaving the glass panel open for when she returned later.

 

Quietly she walked into the home, her head looking up and down, and left and right, taking in every aspect of it.

 

As she made her way to the left wing and the study, she noticed that there weren’t any pictures of the people that lived in the house. She found that odd. Usually rich people loved to see themselves hanging on their walls in huge arrogant portraits. But there was nothing like that in this house it was almost like a museum and a chill ran down her spine. For some reason she found that very eerie and she wondered if anyone even lived in this house. Maybe it was just a place to hide the diamonds. That would be logical considering the owner didn’t trust banks and had to build his own Fort Knox. She wouldn’t be surprised to learn that that was just the case.

 

Putting that thought aside she entered the study and wasted no time walking over to the wall and the limestone dragon head that hung there.

 

She admired it for about two seconds, looking at the rich detail that was chiseled into the stone. It looked Celtic and it reminded her of the etchings on Angel’s knife. The knife that Angel forgot to take away from her, which was now nestled comfortably in her bag waiting to dish out some much deserved justice. She shook off those thoughts, now was not the time to think of revenge. That would come later.

 

Placing the bag on the floor she reached up and positioned her hands on both sides of the dragons head. Her thumbs stretched up and over the dragon’s eyes and with all her might she pushed. The stone eyeballs scrapped lightly against the limestone as they moved inward, and she could see lines that had already been etched in the eye sockets from them moving so many times before.

 

Hearing the sound of the wall move she looked over to the left and picked up her bag, watching as the wall slid up and into the ceiling. According to Oz this was where things got tricky.

 

She peered to her left and then the right. On each side of the doorframe were two glass panels that concealed the number pads. Each one had to be opened simultaneously. Then the code for each one had to be entered also at the same time, resulting in the elevator’s alarm sensors being turned off. It was tricky, but since she had the codes it only required timing and precision, which she had plenty of.

 

Placing the bag on the floor again she stood in the doorframe, her legs stretched out in a split as she balanced herself with her hands on the doorframes. Taking a deep breath she moved her hands down and over the glass panels. Behind closed lids she envisioned the glass panel’s number pads clearly seeing each number that she had to press at the same time. They were not the same numbers which was also difficult, which numbers to press with which hand. But in her mind it was as if it was right in front of her face, she saw nothing else but that and her fingers responded accordingly, pressing each code at the same exact time.

 

When she was done, she opened her eyes to the soft swish of the glass sliding open. She smiled, next step.

 

Bringing her hands in front of her she cracked her knuckles and once more positioned them over the now exposed number pads. Again she closed her eyes, seeing only the numbers she had to press and her fingers obliged, easily pressing each one in sync.

 

There was a click and her hands dropped, quickly she reached for the bag and stepped into the elevator. This was the part where time was definitely of the essence. She had only sixty seconds to get in the elevator, go down to the vault and enter another code the same way before the elevator alarm re-engaged itself again.

 

She stood in the elevator, her foot tapping restlessly as she checked her watch, thirty seconds to go. The elevator doors opened and she once more balanced herself in the doorframe and had the alarm for the vault’s motion detectors disengaged in twenty seconds.

 

She stepped out into the vestibule then turned around to face the elevator. She looked at her watch and counted down ten seconds. Precisely ten seconds later she heard the zip of the alarm engaging and she watched as the doors closed.

 

If she had extra time she would have stopped to marvel at the complexity of the system. It was truly amazing and rivaled even the Museum’s system. But once again she heard Angel’s booming voice in her head to get in and get out.

 

Wasting no time, she turned and faced the vault. She stood there her mouth agape under her mask as her eyes bulged. Oz told her what she would find, he had said it was going to be something to see but she had blown off his comments thinking that she had seen everything. But now standing here and looking at it she was stunned.

 

In front of her was a glass tempered wall. According to Oz, it was fifteen feet high and four feet thick. It was bullet proof, drill proof, and it was supposed to be able to withstand explosions of the highest magnitude. It was impregnable and built to keep unwanted intruders out. She couldn’t help but wonder how much this enclosure must have cost the owner. She knew it wasn’t cheap. Security systems never were, at least the goods ones.

 

Behind the glass the entire vault was visible and Buffy could do nothing but stand there completely taken aback by what she saw. It was the biggest thing she had ever seen, at least as far as home vaults were concerned. Oz said it was roughly two thousand square feet. There was a light that lit the front of the room but when she looked to the left or right she could see aisles that appeared to go on forever disappearing into darkness.

 

She could only imagine the treasures that this vault held in it’s darkened rooms and corners. She was in no way a scholar of any kind but the marble statues that stood in the front of the room, had to be very, very old. They looked Roman, like the ones you would see in the movies, naked and no arms. She knew those alone had to be worth a fortune.

 

‘Get yourself together Buffy, you’re not here to ogle and ponder.’

 

She cleared herself of her temporary stupor and fixated once more on actually getting inside the vault.

 

By this time, Faith should have the surveillance cameras on a time loop. So the only thing the guards would be seeing was the room before Buffy came into it. Of course she really hoped that they were still ogling Faith’s ass and not the cameras at all. That had been Buffy’s suggestion simply because she didn’t hold too much faith in time looping. That back fired on her a few times in the past and Buffy had more confidence in Faith’s ability to keep a man’s attention on her than the time looping.

 

So with the cameras and the guards taken care of she was free to move on to the next step.

 

The system that opened the door used another code that had to be entered but this time she had only five seconds to do it. She wasn’t worried too much about the time, but she was slightly worried about the method of entering the code. Instead of punching in the number codes the system was voice activated and required a finger print scan.

 

When Oz first told her, she had snorted at him. She didn’t exactly have the voice of a fifty something year old man. But he had just smiled at her knowingly and then handed her a voice box, which for Buffy was the coolest toy she ever got. She thought that voice boxes were just an invention of the movies so she was surprised to learn that they did exist. And when she tried it out she and Faith had taken turns impersonating Angel and Spike and laughing their asses off. Of course Angel and Spike didn’t seem too amused by it. Spike had ripped them away from them and told them they were being immature and unprofessional. Buffy just stuck her tongue out at him as Faith rolled her eyes. Now standing here in the vault and actually having to use it was a little scary but she held on and took another deep breath.

 

Opening her bag, her nose crinkled as she pulled out the latex finger print that she had to put on. This part totally grossed her out. Oz didn’t tell her how he got it and frankly she didn’t want to know. She knew it wasn’t a real skin fingerprint but still it had that icky factor to it and it gave her the willies.

 

Standing up she put all her fears and grievances aside as she walked up to the control panel. Turning on the voice box she placed her finger on the scanner and spoke. “26-44-8-12”

 

As she spoke a shiver ran down her spine, her voice was low and so not what she was used to hearing herself sound like that it was very odd and yet at the same time it seemed…familiar. But she had no time to ponder that as the panel suddenly spoke and the glass doors slid open. “Welcome back Mr. Mersum.”

 

She grinned then nodded at the panel and then turned her attention to the vault, holding her breath she stepped inside.

 

The second her foot touched the floor the lights turned on one by one, illuminating every aisle and corner of the vault, and she could see everything.

 

She whistled in awe at the riches she saw. Paintings that she knew were priceless hung on the walls. Rich tapestries of Viking battles and knights on horses hung next to them. There were silver and gold statues, marble statues, and hundreds of books. It just went on and on, and Buffy’s exhilaration grew tenfold.

 

Keeping her feelings in check, she headed down the corridor to the left. Her eyes skimmed over the bindings of the books as she walked. She knew that there were many books that were priceless but the market was slim for selling them. You couldn’t just turn around a make a quick profit on books. Those were specialty items, things that only rich collectors were interested in, not your average pawn shop.

 

Finally she reached the end of the corridor and stood in an alcove. It was a small space with an inviting chair, a table and a lamp. It was probably the owner’s favorite reading spot, and she could understand why. It was small, cozy and warm. Looking straight ahead she thought there was the perfect spot for a fireplace. But instead of a warm roasting fire crackling away in the silence of the vault there was a cold steel safe embedded in the wall.

 

Wasting no time, she knelt down in front of it and cracked her knuckles as she looked at the safe shaking her head in disbelief. This was the one element of the job that Oz was not able to find any information about, and seeing the safe now she knew why.

 

It was just an old antique safe. A Herring-Hall-Marvin Safe to be exact. It was the kind of thing that either was in the family for generations or bought at an auction. It wasn’t the type of safe that you bought at your local high-tech safe dealer. And since it was completely mechanical it wouldn’t have been in the security blue prints.

 

She almost giggled at the absurdity of it all, at the same time as she shook her bag listening to all of the safe cracking tools jiggling against each other. Since they didn’t know what kind of safe it was, Angel made sure that she had all the equipment she would need for a couple of different safes. But as it turned out she didn’t need any of them. All she needed were her fingers and her left ear.

 

She sat back and concentrated on the safe. It was six feet high, approximately four feet wide, and almost three feet deep . It had a four crain hinge door, each one independently opening and operating.

 

She still couldn’t believe that a man that had one of the most intricate, high tech security systems would keep his most precious items tucked away in this antique. But she shrugged it off as arrogance. The owner probably saw no need for a high tech safe, thinking that no one would get best of the security system.

 

The most outrageous idea popped into her head then, and her head tilted to the side as she wondered if it was even locked.

 

She took a hold of the arm and pushed in then pulled it up and out. Smiling like an idiot as the door swung open she snorted under her mask…yup, arrogance.

 

Standing up she looked inside the safe.

 

There were five shelves. Each shelf had thin black velvet boxes that were about four inches wide and five inches long. Each one stacked on top of each other. Not bothering to count how many boxes there actually was, she reached for the first one and pulled it out. Opening the box she gleamed at the beautiful sparkling raw cut diamonds that shone brightly back at her as if they were greeting her.

 

She took a second to soak in their luminousness then she pulled out the velvet hobo bag she brought with her. Dumping the diamonds inside, she put that box back and grabbed another. One by one, she dumped them all inside her hobo bag then put the boxes back on the shelf. When she was done, she closed the safe and tucked the hobo bag inside the main bag, gently pushing on it until she could zip the bag closed.

 

Breathing out and smiling with pride over her accomplished feat she turned and headed back down the corridor. It was amazing how good she felt. She had forgotten the amount of pride that came with pulling off a successful job. Oh she knew she wasn’t done yet, she still had to get out without being detected, but still it was a job well done and to Buffy that meant she was definitely due some much deserved praise and loving from her honey.

 

She was practically whistling as she walked back down the corridor, her mind thinking of Angel and all the ways she was going to let him ravish her. But her feet suddenly stopped. Her eye caught a glimpse of something that intrigued her; a black book.

 

Her attraction to it was odd. It didn’t really stand out from the other books on the shelf. It wasn’t shiny and it didn’t stick out on the shelf like it was a big book. It was perfectly in line with the other books on the shelf, it just looked very old.

 

The only thing that set it apart from the other books was that the binding was dull and worn; a clear indication that this particular book received a lot more attention than the others.

 

But it wasn’t even that that grabbed her attention as she passed it. It was the engraving on the binding. It was silver and it appeared to be the head of a dragon with flames coming out of its mouth.

 

It stopped her dead in her tracks as her fingers automatically lifted and traced the dragons head. It seemed so familiar, it felt like something she had touched so many times before yet she couldn’t recollect ever actually seeing it before.

 

It was the strangest sensation she had ever felt in her life. There was no denying the familiarity she felt toward it or the warm almost familial feeling that filled her soul as she touched it reverently. For some reason this book was reminding her of something she had lost a long, long time ago.

 

Her head tilted as she looked at it again in a different angle and then she smiled. Of course she’d seen it before it was the same dragon head as the one on the wall in the study. Chuckling at herself, her hand dropped away from it and she continued down the corridor dismissing the book and the sense of deep loss that suddenly filled her as she walked away.

 

Reaching the vestibule she turned around and took one last look at the vault. There were so many things here that she knew would be worth the taking. But unfortunately she didn’t have the extra bags or containers to store anything else. She had no choice but to leave but intuitively she knew that one day she would be standing here again.

 

Sighing, she walked outside the vault and watched as the lights turned off one by one.

 

Putting on her gross fingerprint tip again she turned on the voice box. “10-3-7” She said as her finger was scanned once more by the system.

 

The door sealed shut as the system once more spoke, “Have a nice evening Mr. Mersum.”

 

Buffy nodded to it again and then checked her watch, right on schedule. She had ten minutes to get back to the road and meet Faith at their designated spot, where they would move on to the next stage of the plan.

 

Holding her bag tightly she felt the knife that lay silently…waiting. Soon she would seek her revenge and her heart raced at the thought. She was no longer afraid for her soul for what she was going to do she felt only imminent peace that she knew awaited her.

 

 

 

**********************

 

 

 

The Beverly Hills Hotel…

 

 

 

“So how are the girls?” Spike asked as they got out of the car.

 

“Good.” Angel responded.

 

“Everything went well then?”

 

Angel nodded.

 

“You’re so full of shit mate.”

 

Angel stopped walking and looked at him blankly, “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean that you went to the mansion last night and stole the real diamonds and left fake ones for your girl to steal.”

 

“Why would I do that?”

 

“Because Oz told me who came to the hotel last night. Giles. And there can only be one reason why Giles would come to a place he’s not supposed to even know exists.”

 

Angel held back his smirk. “Oh and why is that?”

 

“Look mate, the old man called Oz Daniel. How the bloody hell would he know what Oz’s real name was? Let alone know that the bloke even exists?”

 

“I don’t know you tell me. You seem to know everything already.”

 

Spike smiled and slapped him on the arm. “That’s because I do. Giles knows who we are and what we do, and doesn’t want little ole Buffy involved in it.”

 

Angel smiled at Spike he should have known he couldn’t keep any secrets from him. “How did you know?”

 

Spike gleamed with pride. “Because I know you that’s how. I know you would do anything to keep Buffy safe if you think she’s in danger from something. Which tells me that Giles is not who he appears to be, and that there is a lot more to this story than what you’re telling me or Oz.”

 

“You’re right. There is and I’ll tell you guys everything, but later when this is done. Okay?”

 

“Fair enough.”

 

They started walking down the alley again. “Spike you have to promise me that you won’t tell Buffy.”

 

Spike crossed his heart, “I’ll take it to my grave.”

 

They walked into the hotel looking like two businessmen there for a meeting. Casually they walked over to the elevators, where Angel pressed the button. They waited to all appearances looking as patient as patient could be, but inside they were both foaming at the bit.

 

When the doors opened they stepped inside and Angel pressed the button to the penthouse.

 

He was surprised that they rode the whole way up alone. But he didn’t think on it much it didn’t really matter at this point.

 

Finally, the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Angel and Spike stepped out, greeted once more by a sour puss faced Mr. Trick.

 

Angel looked at him coldly, reading the man’s mind. “We’re not going to go through this again, are we?”

 

Mr. Trick smiled ruthlessly at him. “That won’t be necessary. I was instructed to see you in without delay. But…” his eyes wandered over to Spike, “my orders did not include this gentleman.”

 

“Gentleman?” Spike looked crossly at Angel. “Did he just insult me?”

 

Mr. Trick looked confused for a second and was about to speak when the doors to the office were thrown open. “Oh goodie Angelus is here. Oh and he brought a friend, how nice. Come in, please, please come in. Lots to see and discuss.”

 

Spike’s eyebrow went up at the almost childlike tone of The Mayor; it was not what he was expecting. But he kept his mouth shut and followed Angel in.

 

Without question, Spike stood about three feet behind Angel and to his left, his body turned slightly toward the door and the goons that blocked it. He had perfect sight to everyone in the room and the exits. Should something go wrong it would be a cinch to watch Angel’s back and take anyone out that he had to.

 

His eyes shifted from the goons to Mr. Trick who stood much in the same manner that he did but behind The Mayor. They eyeballed each other hard, each one not trusting the other occupants in the room.

 

“How did it go?” The Mayor asked his eyes bright and alive.

 

Angel smiled coldly at him and lifting the bag, he put it on the desk. He took a step back and waited for the Mayor to open it.

 

But the Mayor just stood there looking at him. “You really are a man of little words aren’t you Angelus?”

 

Angel did not respond. He really felt no need to word banter with the Mayor, what was the point. The second he and Spike stepped out of this building the FBI would be all over the place. He didn’t want to waste his energy, so he just smiled at him and nodded.

 

The Mayor shrugged and then opened the bag. He whistled appreciatively as the diamonds sparkled under the fluorescent lights. “Beautiful. Just beautiful.”

 

With a snap he closed the bag and handed it to Mr. Trick. “Well I guess that concludes our business. Please tell Uncle that I will indeed use your services again. You’ve proven quite reliable.”

 

“I’m sure Uncle will be pleased.”

 

“Yes. I’m sure he will.”

 

Angel turned ready to leave The Mayor behind him.

 

“That’s it, nothing more to say?” The Mayor asked.

 

Angel stopped but didn’t turn around to look at him, he didn’t have to, Spike stared daggers at the man for him.

 

“There’s nothing else to say. The job was a success. You have your diamonds. And Uncle has his money.”

 

“Yes but what about your future Angelus? Perhaps we could talk privately. Perhaps you would be interested in learning of what I can do for you?”

 

Spike snorted out loud uncaring who in the room thought it was rude.

 

Angel turned around. “Wilkens there is nothing that I need nor want from you. My job is done. My team’s job is done. And that’s all there is to it.”

 

He turned away, and walked to the door with Spike right behind him. “Anything more can be said to Uncle.”

 

Looking at the goon that blocked the door he said, “Either you move or I’ll do it for you.”

 

The man looked at The Mayor for approval who stood there stonily staring at Angel. He was annoyed that Angel was cutting this meeting so short. He saw this as the perfect opportunity to talk to Angel about him and his crew working for him directly. But from the cold shoulder he was getting he guessed now wasn’t the time. “Yes, yes. It’s alright.”

 

The goon stepped back and opened the door.

 

“Until we meet again.” The Mayor called out to Angel and Spike’s back.

 

The door closed and they walked to the elevator neither one saying a word.

 

Silently the rode it until the doors opened in the lobby.

 

They quietly and nonchalantly walked out of the hotel and got into Angel’s car. The second they did, they watched from the alley as the FBI stormed into the hotel in full gear.

 

They each smiled to themselves as Angel started the engine and drove out of the alley.

 

Phase two was completed – nice and neat. But it wasn’t the part that concerned the two that sat in the car quietly. It was the next phase that made them both anxious.

 

Their smiles disappeared as they drove to Uncle’s.

 

Twenty minutes later they found themselves sitting outside of Uncle’s building.

 

“I can’t believe this it.” Spike quietly said.

 

“I know. It feels…”

 

“Weird, not real…a dream?”

 

“Yeah. It’s like everything we’ve worked for has come to this and I should be happy but for some reason I feel…”

 

“Like we’re going to get screwed?”

 

Angel turned and looked at him, “you too?”

 

Spike nodded, “I don’t know what it is but I’ve got a very, very bad feeling about this. Of course it could just be my distrust of Kate but…” he shrugged.

 

“No I feel it too. It almost feels like no matter what happens in there, it still won’t be the end of things.”

 

Spike nodded his agreement, “Well it is Uncle and you and I both know that you can’t be sure of anything when it comes to that man.”

 

Angel looked around the street and the buildings that surrounded Uncle’s. “It’s no wonder the FBI has such a long most wanted list.”

 

Spike’s eyes followed Angel’s and saw everything he saw; FBI agents in vans, on the street, and in the windows of buildings. The normal Joe walking down the street wouldn’t notice the suspicious men but to Angel and Spike they were like naked women on a sunlit beach. This only made them nervous. If they saw it, then Uncle would to.

 

“Yeah it’s a miracle they ever get their man. Maybe we should teach them how to be stealthy.” Spike said jokingly trying to calm his anxiety.

 

“What, and give away all our secrets?”

 

“She’s going to fuck this up.” Spike said knowingly, not having an ounce of faith in Kate and the FBI.

 

Angel turned and looked at him as he pulled out one of his girls and cocked it. “That’s why we’re not leaving this up to her.”

 

Spike nodded, watching as Angel put his gun away. “Ready?”

 

“As ever as I will be mate.”

 

Opening the doors they stepped out and walked up to the building. The guards at the door didn’t speak to them they barely even acknowledged them. All they did was step aside and hold the door for them as they walked in.

 

Once more, they rode the elevator in silence, and as it came to a stop and the doors opened, they both took deep breaths as they walked out of the elevator.

 

The hallway was empty and the door to Quentin’s office was open. There was a soft yellow glow of a light coming out of the room and they readily walked toward it.

 

The first thing they saw as they walked into the room was Marcus, Uncle’s personal bodyguard. He stood to the right of the desk, his arms casually at his sides looking like a big cat ready to strike.

 

It was what they expected so they weren’t shocked or afraid; in fact it made Spike smile. He didn’t like Marcus and had been itching to get back at him for all of the humiliation he received from the henchmen’s hands when they were growing up. Spike was a skinny kid when he was younger, a lot less brawny than Marcus was, who was only a few years older than him. They had fought lots of times growing up, and each time Spike was on the losing end. He’d wanted revenge for so long and now he was finally going to get it. The anticipation was making him drool.

 

While Spike began a stare down with a smirking Marcus, Angel’s eyes sought out his last surviving relative and his enemy.

 

He sat pensively at his desk, a glass of whiskey in one hand while the other hand lay flat on the desk. His eyes were hard as steel as he looked into his Nephew’s eyes. That one look from his Uncle told Angel all that he needed to know.

 

“Angelus, William, I trust you saw Wilkens and gave him the diamonds?”

 

They nodded.

 

Uncle took a drink, his eyes never leaving their faces, knowing that he stared death right in the eye.

 

“I was expecting three of you.”

 

“Oz would rather eat razor blades than be in the same room as you.” Spike answered.

 

Quentin nodded his head, a small smile on his lips as he tipped his drink toward Spike. “Yes well he never was the blood thirsty type, not like you two. Oh well, to each is own.”

 

His gaze swung back to Angel’s. “So, this is what it’s come to then, after everything that I did for you two and Daniel? Disrespectful whelps.” His hook his head scolding them.

 

“Everything you did for us?” Angel took a step closer his face darkening with anger. “You killed my parents, your own brother. You set up a bad heist that put Spike and Oz’s parents in jail. Do you really think that we’re going to be grateful?”

 

Uncle shrugged coldly, “half brother.”

 

Angel’s anger increased with his Uncle’s dismissive attitude. “He was still your blood. You betrayed your friends, you betrayed your family. You betrayed everything that the Order stood for. Good people died because they trusted you.”

 

“Good people?” Quentin scoffed. “No. Stupid and weak people just like you two.” His eyes burned with loathing as he looked between them.

 

Spike took a step forward his face a mask of pure rage. “You bastard.”

 

Angel put a hand on his chest, trying to calm is friend.

 

Quentin smiled evilly at Spike, “Bastard? Well I guess that would be correct wouldn’t it? But what do you expect when you have a whore for a mother who spread her legs to the sullied Irish bastard that was my father.” He sneered.

 

Angel’s eyes crinkled with anger as resentment flowed through his veins. He couldn’t stop the raw emotion that seethed from his voice as he spoke, and it was the one time that he didn’t care. “My grandfather was a good and decent man.”

 

“Indeed. To his heirs…to Liam.”

 

“You ungrateful son of a bitch,” Angel sneered at him. “He took you in. He brought you to his home, taught you everything that you know and you have the balls to sit there and say he didn’t?”

 

“Oh yes he took me in. He cared so much for me that it took him ten years to come and get me. Ten years I spent living in a hovel in London. Watching as my mother whored herself out to any lowlife that would pay her five dollars to ride her beaten and abused body.”

 

“You can’t hold that against him. He didn’t even know you existed. And when he did, he came for you. Took you into his home and raised you like his son.”

 

“Yes. But by then the damage had been done, didn’t it. By then I was hardened to the rules of the world, and its truth was blinding to me. You have to take care of yourself or no one well. When he introduced me to the order it was the business end of it only. He didn’t want me, his half Irish and half British bastard to do jobs. I wasn’t good enough for that. Those were reserved for Liam, the favored child that had been born with the gift, like you two.” He scornfully said.

 

Angel couldn’t believe what he was hearing, the man sitting before him was someone he had never seen before. A man filled with insecurities and hatred. Hatred for a father that he thought never cared enough for him. “That’s what all of this has been about? Jealously and revenge! You’re pathetic. You’re nothing but a sorry bitter old man.”

 

“I did what I had to do to survive.”

 

“No this wasn’t about survival you were saved. You were brought into a family that loved you and gave you everything. But you, you were just too twisted to see it for what it really was. You shunned the family that made you one of their own. You took something that was sacred and turned it into a means to better yourself. Innocent people died because of you and your greed.”

 

Quentin sighed and shook his head. “You are so blind Angelus, both of you are. There is no such thing as innocent men in this business. We kill and we steal all under the fictitious belief that we are being noble. No. We are bad men…all of us. There is no trust, there is no honor in thieves.”

 

“No you turned it into that. It was your doing that blackened the Order. There are still many of us left that believe in what the Order stands for and will see it restored to its noble roots.”

 

Quentin chuckled, “you can believe that all you want son but the truth is the truth. And one day you’ll learn that.”

 

He smiled at him knowingly; it was that smile that sent shivers of dread down Angel’s spine. The one that told Angel that Uncle knew something that Angel didn’t.

 

Lifting his glass, Quentin drank down his whiskey. His eyes closing savoring the drink as it slid down his throat. Placing the glass back down on the desk his eyes opened and looked once more at Angel. “Somehow I always knew that you wouldn’t see things my way. You’re too much like Liam.”

 

Angel smiled, “Thanks for the compliment.”

 

Quentin’s voice turned hard, “and just like him, you have no idea when you’re being insulted. So…I suppose our FBI friends will be arriving any minute now.”

 

Angel nodded.

 

“You know, I can’t let them take me in?” Quentin said.

 

Angel and Spike both smiled, “We were hoping you’d say that.”

 

Everything was one big blur then. Guns were drawn and bullets were fired. Four men stood facing each other. In the end, after the smoke cleared and the room was silent once more, only two men stood.

 

Marcus lay dead to the right of the desk a bullet lodged in his brain. And Uncle’s still body was slumped over his desk, his gun in his hand, and his empty glass of whiskey shattered next to him.

 

The peaceful silence of the room didn’t last though as gunfire and loud angry voices could be heard coming from the lower levels of the building.

 

“We have to move fast.” Spike said as he ran around to the desk, kicking Marcus as he passed. “Asshole.”

 

He pushed Uncle off the desk and he landed on the carpet face down with a dead thud. Quickly he started opening drawers and grabbing anything he could that looked important.

 

As if in a daze, Angel walked over to his Uncle and stared down at him. He had envisioned this moment for so long that he was having a hard time feeling anything but bewilderment. It almost felt like it was a dream. But the more he stood there, the more he stared into his Uncle’s lifeless eyes and watched as his blood drained from his wounds and soaked into the carpet, elation and a sense of righteousness filled him. He felt as if his father was smiling down on him. It was a good feeling. One that he never thought he would feel again. And the longer he stood there thinking of all the years he spent without his parents, and how hard everything had been for him, Spike and Oz, disappointment and regret filled him.

 

“It doesn’t seem fitting enough, his death, it was too fast.” His voice was low filled with emptiness and malice.

 

“I know mate and I agree with you, but we don’t have the bleeding time to stick him like a pig now. Just grab his keys.”

 

Leaning down, Angel sifted through Uncle’s pockets and pulled out his wallet and keys.

 

“Death is too good for you.” He whispered.

 

Grabbing the collar of Quentin’s jacket he ripped it in two then proceeded to rip his dress shirt, revealing the mark of the Order on Quentin’s shoulder…the gryphon.

 

Reaching down into his boot Angel pulled out a knife. With a smile of satisfaction on his face he sliced the patch of skin with the tattoo on it off of his uncle’s body.

 

“By The Order of Aurelia I strip you, he who is unworthy, he who has tarnished all that he as touched, of the hallowed mark of our beloved clan. May those that have perished by your hand find comfort in this deed, and may your soul rot in the pits of hell…forever.”

 

“Aye. Rot in hell.” Spike said as he stood by and watched Angel remove the consecrated mark from the man that had no right to wear it.

 

Standing up Angel pulled out a leather pouch and put the patch of skin inside of it for the ritual that they would perform later. It was a somewhat barbaric tradition, the burning of a traitors mark, but to Angel, Spike and Oz, it meant everything. It meant that they had accomplished their mission and restored the order. As the skin would burn in the flames, they would know that the souls of the fallen would finally rest in peace.

 

The noise from below grew louder and Spike walked over to the safe. He held out his hand just as Angel threw him the keys. Opening it, he grabbed the little bit of paperwork that was inside and then stuffed it in his jacket. “Got it.”

 

Throwing the keys back to Angel, he opened the window. “Ready?”

 

Angel took one last look at his Uncle. It was the last time he was ever going to see him and he wanted to remember him just the way he was; dead in a pool of his own blood and stripped of everything that he had held so dear. “Yeah.”

 

Quickly the stepped out of the window and on to the narrow fire escape, leaving the office and the carnage behind, they made their way to the roof, disappearing into the night.

 

The second they left the room the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Kate and five other agents walked out and into the office only to find their target dead.

 

“Shit.” She said as her eyes took in the ransacked desk and the open and empty safe.

 

“Damn you Angel.” He had betrayed her. There was nothing here for her. Uncle was dead and she knew without even looking that Angel cleaned the place out.

 

“Ma’am, what do we do now?” one of the agents asked.

 

“Round up everyone that’s not dead and book em.”

 

The agents turned and left to do as they were told leaving Kate standing there steaming.

 

He lied to her. Oh she got the Mayor and all of his goons and that was a good bust. But the one that she really wanted, the one that she really needed to progress in her career was denied her.

 

“You have another thing coming Angel if you think I’m going to just go away.”

 

Turning she headed back to the elevator.

 

The girl, what was her name…Buffy, that’s right. Kate knew there was something familiar about her, something more than just seeing her in a magazine. She also knew that Buffy was Angel’s weak spot and she was going to do everything in her power to exploit it.

 

She was going to bring him down to his knees, him and everyone else in their crooked crew. They were all going to go down for this betrayal.

 

 

 

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