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The Evil That Men Do-3

2

SUNNYDALE

Xander had spent the better part of the day getting nowhere fast. The
receptionist that he had spoken with on the phone was the same receptionist
that he met in the lobby of the computer camp. She told him once again that
Willow Rosenberg had left the campsite with her parents. A camp counselor
by the name of Sheldon Sunter confirmed this and firmly, but politely asked
Xander to leave.

Xander had tried to look around the camp grounds but as he was not a member,
he was politely asked again to leave the premises. It was close to five
p.m. when he finally sat down on a bench in defeat just outside the computer
camp grounds. He put his elbows on his knees and he put his face in his
hands.

He was worried about Willow.

Something was wrong.

He didn't know why he knew that something was terribly wrong. He just did.
It made him angry and frustrated. It also made him rely on things that he
thought he would never have to rely on.

Like Angel.

He let out a weary sigh. Xander would have never thought that he would see
the day when he wished the sun would go down so Angel could arrive to save
the day.

"Xander!"

Xander sighed a heavy sigh of relief as he turned his head to see who had
called him. "Willow, I..." he stopped.

It wasn't Willow.

It was Sylvia Landry, one of Willow's computer buddies.

"Oh...hi, Silver," Xander greeted.

Sylvia pushed her glasses back up her nose with her finger as she approached
Xander. There was a time when she had let only one person call her by that
name. That had been Joshua MacDonald, her boyfriend. Since his untimely
death during the school year, all of her friends had begun to call her
"Silver" and since she found it comforting, she didn't tell them to stop.
In some ways, it made her feel close to Joshua. After all, it was Joshua
whom had given her the name and so it was only reasonable that she start
using it as a name.

Sylvia sat next to Xander and she looked at him sadly. Without knowing that
she was doing it, she moved a strand of her dark black hair and tucked it
behind her ear. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hey, how are you?" Xander regarded her with concern. "Are you doing all
right?"

Sylvia shrugged her shoulders. "I...I'm doing all right, I guess. Thank
you for asking." She hesitated, "Are you here looking for Willow?"

He nodded his head. "As a matter of fact, I am. Have you seen her?"

She shook her head. "Not for three days, Xander."

"The people I've talked to here..." He shook his head. "They're not being
very helpful, you know? They told me that Willow has left and gone home
early."

Sylvia looked at him. "Did Willow go home?"

He let out a weary sigh and the worry he had been feeling for Willow began
to show on his face. He shook his head. "No, Silver. I've been to her
house, and she's not there. Her parents have not come up here to take
Willow home."

"This...this is bad, isn't it?" Sylvia regarded Xander. She looked like
she wanted to tell him something, but was afraid to.

Xander looked at her. "What is it, Silver?"

"I..." she stopped. She took a deep breath and tried again. "Th-there's
another girl at camp who we thought had gone home, too."

"Another girl? Who?"

"Kali. She shared a room with another girl across the hall from us. From
me and Willow."

Xander didn't like the sound of this. "Kali is missing, too? She and
Willow are both gone?" He didn't know who this Kali was, but two girls
missing from the same camp at the same time was setting off alarms in his
head. "Silver, when was the last time you saw Willow?"

Sylvia paused in thought. "We...we went swimming on Monday, Xander. Willow
seemed tired and-and she went to her room early. I think Kali went to her
room, too. She said she hadn't been feeling good." She looked at Xander
with worry in her eyes. "My God, Xander! Willow was my roommate. If
something happened to her--"

"We don't know that anything did happen," Xander replied lamely, attempting
to reassure her.

"I stayed and I swam with my friends. B-by the time I got to our room, she
was gone! I should have went with her!"

"Take it easy, Silver. I'm not blaming you and don't you blame yourself
either." He put his hands on her shoulders. "We have to think this
through. When Willow got to your room, something must have happened. She
had to have gone somewhere from there...but where?"

Sylvia thought hard about what had happened. "Counselor Sunter told me that
she went to the doctor's office feeling ill. I-I went to check on her, but
she wasn't there." She frowned. "Xander, the doctor wasn't there either."
She remembered something else. "Come to think of it, the Director of the
campgrounds mentioned something about the doctor during assembly Wednesday
morning. He said that someone was coming to replace the doctor."

Xander frowned as he puzzled over what he had just heard. "This doctor
left...Willow and Kali are missing...What the hell is going on?"

Sylvia looked at him with concern. "You...you think something happened to
them? T-to Willow?"

He hesitated, "It's beginning to look that way to me." He paused. "Who was
this doctor? Why did he leave?"

Sylvia shrugged. "It's not a 'he' but a 'she'. Her name is S'ushi
Alyssia...and I don't know why she left."

Xander couldn't help it. He began to chuckle. "Wait a minute. This doctor
is a woman...and she's named after raw fish?"

"It's Sue-shy, Xander. Not Sue-she."

"Okay. I gotcha. But...this woman...this doctor...She left and Willow is
missing."

"Kali, too." Sylvia frowned. "Do you think Dr. Alyssia had something to do
with their disappearance?"

"I...I just don't know." And I can't do anything until backup arrives
anyway, he thought in frustration.

"Xander...what should I do? I-I only came here because of Willow." Her
lower lip began to tremble, and her eyes began to blur with tears. "S-she's
helped me so much and...and I've been so selfish."

Xander got a little choked up in spite of himself. He remembered that when
Joshua was alive, Sylvia was a spitfire who didn't take any trash from
anybody. She walked tall and carried a big imaginative stick. But ever
since Joshua's death, everything had changed. She just wasn't the same, and
Xander's heart went out to her.

Xander shook his head. "You haven't been selfish, Silver. You have a right
to grieve."

"But doesn't Willow have time to grieve? J-Joshua was her friend, too...I-I
only dated him. Willow was the one who found him, Xander, and was I there
for her? No! And now Willow's missing!" Her eyes suddenly widened in
fear. "Oh, God...What if the Brotherhood took--"

Xander shook her shoulders gently and made her look at him. "Silver, stop!
The Brotherhood did not take Willow again, and they're not going to either."
Inwardly, he hoped that was the truth he was telling, because,
unfortunately, the Brotherhood simply seemed to have vanished after he,
Buffy, and Giles had saved Willow from a fate worst than death at the hands
of that macabre cult. He didn't know where they had disappeared to, nor did
he know if they would ever resurface. He could only hope they didn't.
"Look, this is different. It's not about them. Silver...maybe it would be
better for you if you just went home."

Sylvia frowned. Then she nodded as she wiped at her eyes. "Well...I-I am
going home."

As if on que, a car pulled up with Sylvia's parents in the front seat.
Sylvia gave Xander a hug and whispered, "Please find Willow."

Xander returned the hug. "I will. I promise."

He sat back on the bench and watched Sylvia leave with her parents and then
he wondered just how in the hell was he going to find Willow. What could
have happened to her? Why was he being told that Willow went home with her
parents when her own parents told him that she was still at camp? Did this
fishy doctor have anything to do with Willow's disappearance or Kali's, or
did the doctor lady disappear, too?

Xander looked up.

He was actually relieved to see that the sun was going down.

"Imagine that," he said sarcastically to himself. "I'm actually liking the
night."

He decided that there was only one thing he could do and that was to wait
for Angel to arrive. He suddenly closed his eyes and he cursed. He
realized to his own dismay that in his rush to get here himself, he had
neglected to tell Angel how to get to the camp.

"Things cannot possibly get any worst than this!" he exclaimed to himself.

He was wrong.
_____________________________________________________



BOSTON

The rain was pouring down hard as the two men stood within the foyer of the
crack house. The crack house was centered between the Wharf and what was
commonly known as the Combat Zone. The two men were sharing a smoke and
they were looking forlornly out the window as the rain continued to fall
without any signs of stopping. Both men were anxious, but only one of them
managed to cover his anxiety quite well.

That man went by the name of Billiard.

Billiard was a tall, muscular black man with a bald head and an expression
that was as serious as death. That is the way his expression always looked.
It was also why he was called Billiard, because even when he played pool,
his face was still an expression of seriousness.

His friend was called Snake-Eyes but that was because of the little mans
oddly small head, pale face, and his beady little eyes. His eyes were
literally like two dots on the roll of a dice. Snake-Eyes was pacing
nervously in place, making him look like a kid who really couldn't hold it
much longer, and he kept throwing glances to the front door and then his
eyes shifted in the direction of the hall.

Billiard knew what Snake-Eyes was thinking.

And he didn't like it.

"That way leads to a horrible death, Snake-Eyes." The big man shook his
head. "You don't want to go there."

Snake-Eyes looked at him, but his shifty eyes couldn't make eye contact.
"What are you, man? Brain dead or somethin'? Did you see that girl?"

"Do you know Dr. Alyssia?" He leaned closer. "I mean...really know Dr.
Alyssia."

Snake-Eyes hesitated, "Uh...y-yeah, man. Shiiit! Yeah, I know her. She's
one crazy-ass bitch!"

"She'll kill you if you touch what belongs to her."

Snake-Eyes scowled. "Damn! Shi-i-it! Man!" He threw his arms up in
frustration. "Sh-she won't know a thin', man! See...this girl was here
since yesterday mornin', man. How she gonna know?"

Billiard suddenly looked at the little man with suspicion.
"Snake-Eyes...did you go and so something stupid?"

"Hey! No, man!" Snake-Eyes waved his hands in defense and took a step
back. "See...I...well, you know how it is, man." He chuckled nervously.

"What did you do?" Billiard asked again.

"Nothin', man. I swear it!" He flinched under Billiard's glare. "Look,
man. I just pinched and poked the girl a little, that's all, man. I swear,
I--"

Billiard grabbed Snake-Eyes by the throat and slammed him hard against the
wall. "Don't be a damned fool!" he hissed. "You'd be lucky if she ordered
me to kill you, Snake-Eyes. If I don't kill you, it'll be worst than you
can possibly imagine. Keep away from that girl. She doesn't belong to
you."

Billiard released him and stepped back.

Snake-Eyes tried to catch his breath and he held up a shaking hand at a
feeble attempt to keep the big guy away. "Hey, man...I-I won't touch her.
I swear it, man."

Billiard's cell phone rang. He pulled it out and growled out a greeting.
He listened. Then he closed the phone and put it away. He turned to glare
at Snake-Eyes. "I have business to attend to," he said to the weasel
slowly. "You best not go down to the basement, Snake-Eyes. If you go down
there, I'll know."

Snake-Eyes nodded quickly. "Hey, man...I'm just curious..." He took a step
toward Billiard. "Wh-what is the girl's name?"

Billiard frowned at him. "When they pass through here, they don't have
names. You know that."

"But...i-isn't this one special?"

Billiard paused in thought. "Yeah. This one is special." He thought about
his conversation with Dr. Alyssia on the phone just before the girl's
arrival. S'ushi Alyssia did have a warped sense of humor. "You know, Dr.
Alyssia didn't tell me the girl's name. But she did tell me that she was
named after a tree."

Snake-Eyes looked puzzled. "Huh?" He thought about it. "The girl's name
is Pine?"

"I gotta go." Billiard pointed meaningfully at the little man. "Don't
touch her."

Snake-Eyes nodded. Then he watched him leave. When he was finally left
alone, an evil leer appeared on his face. He turned, rubbed his hands
together and he headed purposefully for the door at the end of the hall. It
led directly to the basement.

On the way to that door, he passed the open doorway which led into the
living room. A crack head who fell asleep, dropped an open, burning lighter
onto the floor. He had been about to light one up for himself when he
decided to take a trip to dreamland instead. The lighter hit the floor and
made contact to the carpet.

The material began to burst into flames and the flames began to spread.

The flame touched the curtains on the window and quickly shot up to the
ceiling. As the fire continued to burn, it would eventually destroy a
terrible place and yet it would ultimately save the life of one young girl
who was named after a tree.

That girl was in the basement of the crack house. She was lying on a cot
with nothing on but a long sleeve shirt that stretched to her knees. Her
wrists were bound to a metal frame at the head of the cot and the restraints
were designed for the purpose of restraining without leaving marks. The
same type of restraints were also bound around her ankles.

Even without the restraints, the poor girl could not possibly put up any
type of resistance. The drugs in her system had her in and out of
consciousness. At times she was aware of her surroundings, but most of the
time, she was disoriented and confused. But in her current condition, she
was barely aware of what was happening around her. She knew that someone
was there with her, but she didn't know who it was. She couldn't move, and
she couldn't understand why. She couldn't open her eyes. She felt like she
was floating, and then falling. She wanted it to stop, then she wanted it
to go on...like a roller coaster ride out in deep space.

Snake-Eyes sat on the edge of the cot and he put his hand on the girl's leg.

"Hey, Little Tree," he greeted with a leer. "This is your lucky day." He
laughed. "Mine, too, sugar! And you know what? You won't even know what
it is that's happenin' to you, baby."

He slowly moved his hand to her knee and he touched the soft fabric of the
girl's shirt. "Just re--"

A blood-curdling scream sounded from directly above and it stopped him cold.

"What the hell, man?!" he shouted angrily.

Snake-Eyes reluctantly left the girl alone and he stormed up the stairs. He
flung open the door, and he stepped out into the hall. And he stared into
the living room in horror as flames reached out into the hallway.

Snake-Eyes prided himself as a survivor. He thought of himself as a tough,
street-smart hood who knew how to handle himself quite well in any given
situation. He saw the flames, he saw the writhing dope-head on the floor
covered in flames, and so he survived.

He ran out through the front door and he never looked back.

The flames was like an entity of its own. It went through the house
rapidly, devouring everything in its path. The door to the basement had
been left open and so the flames reached hungrily for the basement. By the
time the stairs were engulfed by flames, and as the basement began to fill
with smoke, firemen arrived on the scene.

Two firemen doing their jobs were heading for the basement. They were just
doing their jobs, and part of that job was to look for anyone who could
possibly still be alive and get them out. It was that simple. Or it should
have been. Never in all of their years as firemen had they ever expected to
find an unconscious girl tied to a cot in the basement of a burning
building. They immediately took to rescuing the girl and they managed to
get her out of the burning crack house. Moments later, she was on a
stretcher and in the back of an ambulance. The Paramedics began to work on
her but at least they knew that the girl was out of immediate danger.

Still, there had to be answers to what happened here, so one of them had
placed a call. Less than ten minutes later, an unmarked police car pulled
up beside the ambulance and two men climbed out. They both hurried to the
back of the ambulance and climbed in to get out of the rain.

Lieutenant Martin Quirk looked down at the girl on the stretcher grimly.
The man who had entered the ambulance with him, Sergeant Frank Belsen,
cursed under his breath.

"Ah, Jesus, Lieutenant," he growled. "She's just a kid!"

"How is she?" Quirk asked the Paramedic.

The man let out a sigh. "She's stable for now. A couple of firemen pulled
her out of the blaze, but...uhm...it was how they found her that was
disturbing."

Quirk pursed his lips. He did that to keep a tight reign on his anger.
"She was restrained to a cot."

The man looked at him, puzzled. "Yes. That's right. How did you know?"

"Open your friggin' eyes, Mac!" Belsen exclaimed. "Yer smack dab in the
middle of the Combat Zone and the Wharf, for crissakes! This isn't exactly
where a pretty little girl would want to be found in of her own free will!
Trust me."

The Paramedic looked at Belsen. "Well, how do you suppose she got here?"

Quirk shook his head and cut Belsen off. "Who can say? She could be a
run-a-way. She could have been kidnapped from her home or from a public
place. Her being here in the first place is bad news." He looked at
Belsen. "She got lucky. This time tomorrow, she could have been out to
sea."

"Out to sea?!" the Paramedic exclaimed, appalled. "But...why would someone
want to drown this poor kid?"

"Not drown. That would be a kinder fate."

Belsen looked at the man. "White Slavery."

The Paramedic looked at him. He was trying to comprehend what he had just
heard. "What?" He stumbled over his thoughts. "Are you telling me that
this girl was going to be sold?"

Quirk would have responded, but the girl suddenly opened her eyes, and
weakly, she called out, "Kali! Kali! N-no...no...Kali..."

She tried to look around, but her new surroundings were just too unfamiliar
to her. Everything was confusing to her.

Quirk looked at her sadly. He wondered if she was reliving some dreadful
memory of her captivity. He watched as she struggled to keep her eyes open,
but she lost the fight and her eyes closed.

"I wonder who Kali is," Quirk said softly. "Frank, I'm going to ride with
the ambulance to the hospital. Take my car." He handed him the keys. "I
want two uniforms to meet me at the hospital. Someone is losing money
tonight and I'm betting that whoever it is will be looking for this girl. I
want her protected."

Belsen nodded solemnly. "Right. I got it covered."

"If you happen to see either Hawk or Spenser...let them know that I'm
looking for them."

Belsen nodded again. He took one last look at the girl, then he went back
out into the rain. Once he was in Quirk's car, he started it up and drove
away.

The ambulance drove off as well with its sirens blaring loudly to clear a
path. Quirk found himself looking at the girl and he wondered who she was.
At that moment, she opened her eyes again and her eyes met his.

"You're going to be all right," he said gently, wondering if the girl even
understood him or believed him.

She didn't respond. She just looked at him.

"You're safe now." He didn't realize that he was doing it, but he had his
hand open and toward her in a non-threatening gesture.

She reached up for his hand and she grabbed it. Then she closed her eyes
again. She didn't let go of his hand until they arrived at the hospital to
wheel her into the ER.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

3

BOSTON

"This man be dead."

Hawk just had a way with words. I had to admire him for that. Anybody else would have added a bit more detail to it, but not Hawk. He calls it like he sees it. This didn't mean, however, that I couldn't bait him just a little.

"Now how do you know that?" I asked for the benefit of the police who were examining the scene.

Hawk had that knowing look. "I know the man is dead 'cause he ain't got no head." He looked down at the bloody headless corpse lying in the alley. "Ain't got no head...must surely be dead."

He did have a point there.

Now there's something one should know about Boston's finest. They didn't mind having me around on a crime scene, especially if I was asked to make a special appearance. I'm asked to make these appearances because I'm special, but also because I'm a detective and might be able to smell something they don't. Over the years, the Boston police have come to tolerate my presence. Sure, they tolerate me like a bad toothache that won't go away, but I eventually win them over with my charming personality.

I've helped them out a time or two and I have to give them credit, too. Especially Quirk and Belsen.

But no matter how much the police learned to appreciate me and to respect me, it was different with Hawk. Maybe it was because he was big, black, and bad, or maybe he needed to take a lesson from Charm School 101, but the bottom line was that they resented his presence. Period. The only reason that he was there with me at the crime scene was because Belsen wanted him to be there.

Belsen had his cigar clamped between his teethe as he gave Hawk one of his "you gotta be shittin' me" looks. "Jesus, Hawk. Thanks for that little juicy tidbit of deductive reasoning. I guess we would have discovered sooner or later that this stiff didn't have no friggin' head, but you're obviously way quicker than us blue coats!"

"'Way quicker'," I repeated to Hawk. Then, I said to Belsen, "Frank, you don't have a blue coat."

Hawk continued to inspect the scene with his eyes. "I ain't got no blue coat neither."

"You wouldn't look good in a blue coat, Hawk," I told him. "Blue doesn't match the color of your eyes."

Hawk grunted. "Good thing I don't have a blue coat then."

I had looked this scene over a dozen times since I've been here and I ran it through in my mind as I sorted out various clues and puzzle pieces that would eventually lead us to solving this case. There was something I had noticed, and I was more than reasonably certain that Hawk had caught it as well. I knew that Belsen and his blue coats had not noticed it yet for if they had, they would have been squawking about it by now.

"So, Frank, who found the headless stiff?" I asked.

Belsen pointed at the apartment building on the left of the alley. "Neighbors complained about some kind of ruckus out here. A squad car with a couple of boys came out to investigate and that's when they found the stiff."

I nodded solemnly. "The stiff...with no head."

Hawk made a sound in his throat. It was more like a short growl, and he often did this when he was thinking. He gave Belsen one of his many famous looks. "How does a man with no head 'ruckus'?"

I had to jump in on this one. "What is a 'ruckus', Frank? Have you ever seen one?"

I knew it was going to happen sooner or later. Belsen was losing his patience with me.

"Spenser," he began with his finger pointing at me, "you're killin' me!"

I shrugged. "Don't lose your head over it, Frank." I couldn't help it. I grinned at him.

"You really are a piece of work, you know that?"

I opened my mouth to respond.

Belsen raised a hand. "Don't answer that!" He turned to look at me. Then he took his cigar out of his mouth and wiped at his face with his other hand.

That made me a little concerned. I knew Frank Belsen a lot better than he thought I did. I knew his mannerisms, and I also knew that he was a damn good cop. He was thinking about the dead guy with no head and he seemed to be working something out in his mind. I got the impression that he knew something and he wanted to let us know what it was.

Hawk was watching Belsen carefully. Not much ever slipped past Hawk.

"What is it, Frank?" I asked.

Belsen looked at me. He glanced at the blue coats around us and then he motioned for us to join him away from the others. Hawk and I met him near the wall and we were careful where we stepped.

Belsen wasn't.

He wiped at a rain drop that fell onto his face and I didn't have the heart to tell him that it wasn't really rain. The rain had stopped falling hours ago. It was early evening. I motioned for Belsen to step back.

Without thinking about it, he did. "Listen," he said to us, glancing back at the blue coats, "we found this girl, Spense...earlier this mornin' in a crack house in between the Combat Zone and the Wharf."

I shrugged. "It's a hard fact of life, Frank. There are a lot of girls in crack houses these days. Especially near the Combat Zone."

"Well...this girl is different," he explained insistently. "Some friggin' dope head accidentally set fire inside the house. Someone called the fire department, and by the time they arrived, the place was ablaze!"

"He said 'ablaze'," Hawk drawled.

Belsen glanced at him. "Anyways...this girl was found in the basement of that damned house, Spense. She was doped up and tied to a friggin' cot. Are you gettin' the picture here? That's how the firemen found her. Quirk got this call and he and I went there moments after they put her into the ambulance."

I knew where this was going. Hawk and I had dealt with this kind of thing before.

"Damn," I said softly.

"Then you're thinking--" Belsen began.

I cut him off. "Another damn white slavery ring."

Hawk looked as expressionless as ever, except I noticed the set in his jaw and the dangerous look in his eyes. "Same old story for white slavers," he growled. "Bring the girl to the crack house by the Wharf, then take her away by boat. Bastards try to do it every time."

Belsen looked at me. "Look, Spense. My gut tells me that this stiff in the alley had something to do with it."

I looked at him. "A hunch?"

He nodded.

I though about it. "You mean...that he had something to do with the girl or the fire?"

"Maybe both. What if the bastard was supposed to be watchin' the girl? If that was the case, then he let her get away. Now...there's a headless man lying in the alley and he stinks like hell."

"And you really think there's a connection?"

Hawk nodded grimly. "I do."

Belsen and I looked at him.

"You say that with such certainty," I observed.

Hawk grunted as he gave me a nod. "I do."

"And how did you come to this simple deduction, Watson?"

"'Cause I know the headless stiff. I've seen his face and his beady little eyes before. They used to call him Snake Eyes when he was alive. Now they'll call him the dead guy who ain't got no head."

Belsen blinked at him as if he hadn't heard Hawk correctly. "Hawk...how the friggin' hell can you stand there and say you've seen this stiff's face...when we haven't even seen his fuckin' head?!"

"It's Snake Eyes," Hawk said with finality. "He used to hang out in the Combat Zone along the Wharf. I'm certain they killed him 'cause he got sloppy with the girl."

"But how do you know it's him?!" Belsen demanded.

"I told you...I've seen his face."

"What the hell are you, nuts?!" Belsen waved his arms dramatically. He was getting really worked up about the whole thing. "THERE'S NO FUCKIN' HEAD!!!" He pointed at Hawk. "You can't ID a stiff without no head."

Hawk pointed up.

Belsen looked at him and he let out a sigh. I could tell he didn't want to do this, but he did. He looked up to where Hawk was pointing. On the fire escape above us, a metal bar from the railing was broken and it was hanging out above the alley. It was positioned just perfectly so that a street light was shining upon it. A head was stuck to that bar with its face facing toward the light.

"That's Snake Eyes' head," Hawk told him.

"Jesus Christ," Belsen whispered hoarsely. "Well...how the hell did it get up there?"

"Why don't you climb up there and ask him?"

Belsen looked at Hawk.

Hawk flashed him a smile. It wasn't a real smile, just a flashy smile. Hawk was not big on smiling.

"Frank," I said, drawing the conversation back to the girl, "where is she now?"

He turned to look at me. "She's at the Children's Center in Boston Memorial."

"How old is she?"

"Fifteen...maybe sixteen. She's just a kid, Spense." He paused. "Quirk wants to see you there."

"When?"

"As soon as you can get your ass over there."

"Well...then me and my ass are on our way." I looked at Hawk. "You coming?"

Hawk shook his head. "Nah. I'll catch up to you later on. I'm gonna do some digging of my own. See if I can find out who separated Snake Eyes' head from his shoulders."

"Then what?" I asked.

"Then I'll thank them for saving me the trouble." He flashed that smile again.

I looked at Belsen. "Frank...don't you think that Hawk has a perfect set of teeth?"

Belsen shook his head at me and rolled his eyes.

I left them then just as Belsen began to expound to Hawk about Law and Order. I could only hope that Hawk would behave himself enough not to get arrested.
____________________________________________________



SUNNYDALE

"You're still here?"

Xander looked up from the bench and he was surprised to find Counselor Sheldon Sunter standing there with a stern expression.

Xander cleared his throat. "I'm just waiting for my ride," he lied. He had been hoping that Angel would arrive to save the day, but he realized that it just wasn't going to happen. Angel didn't know where the computer camp was. And even if he did, it would take him at least an hour or two to arrive.

Sunter regarded Xander. And then he smiled. "No, you're not. You've been sitting out here for hours." He paused. "You intend to sneak back into the campgrounds when the sun sets, don't you?"

Xander chuckled nervously. "Who? Me? Nah. Really...why would I go snooping around where I'm not wanted?"

"Because you're looking for Willow Rosenberg."

There was something in the man's tone that greatly disturbed Xander. He looked at the Counselor and frowned. "You had made it clear to me that Willow isn't here."

"But you don't believe that, do you?" Sunter smirked at him. "You think I'm lying to you."

Xander rubbed his forehead as he felt his anger and fear for Willow's safety resurface. "Are you telling me now that Willow is here?" He glared at Sunter. "What reason would you have to lie about this?"

Sunter shrugged his shoulders casually. "I've got my reasons." He had a cocky smile on his face.

Xander hated that smile. He slowly rose from the bench and he stood in front of Sunter, glaring at him. He wanted to wipe that smile right off his face. "Is Willow here or not?"

"Do you want to see her?"

Xander swallowed his anger. "Yes, you son-of-a-bitch. I want to see Willow." He took a deep breath. "What did you do to her?"

Sunter paused as he regarded Xander. "I'll show you." He turned and he began to walk away.

Xander had no choice.

He followed Sunter.

Sunter led him through the campsite and he eventually led him to the beach area. They walked up toward a boat house with a small dock. Xander frowned as he wondered why Sunter would keep Willow in a boat house. Was this Kali in there as well? He wanted to believe that Willow was in there because he didn't want to believe that something worst could have happened to her.

Xander remembered going to a movie with Willow, and the movie was called The Vanishing. It starred Jeff Bridges, Kiefer Sutherland, and Sandra Bullock. Keifer Sutherland played the part of a desperate boyfriend who was in search of his girlfriend-Sandra Bullock-after she disappeared at a gas station. Jeff Bridges played the part of the man who kidnapped her. Sutherland's character spent years searching for her and it nearly ruined his life because he just didn't know what had happened to her. It was the unknown that had been the worst pain.

After the movie, Xander and Willow had talked about it for hours. But they had never thought that one of them would vanish like that. They hadn't believed in vampires back then either, and yet now they did.

There were vampires.

There was a Slayer.

And Willow was missing.

Xander followed Sunter into the boat house. There was a lot of boating equipment about and a speed boat was on a raised hitching trailer.

There was no sign of Willow anywhere.

Xander glared at Sunter. "Where's Willow?"

Sunter pointed.

At first, Xander didn't know what the man was pointing at. He walked around the speed boat and there on the floor, pushed back against the wall was a chest. It was large enough to hold a body.

It was large enough to hold...

Xander swallowed a lump in his throat.

He walked over to the chest and he slowly opened it. He stared inside...and he frowned.

The chest was empty.

He began to turn his head. "You ba--"

Sunter hit him with a rowing oar and knocked him out cold.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

4

SUNNYDALE

Xander came to and he immediately regretted it. His head was pounding painfully and he soon discovered that his hands were bound tightly behind his back. He was tied securely to a beam in the center of the boat house. As he became fully aware of his surroundings, he also became aware that he was being watched.

Sunter was standing off to the side watching Xander. He grinned when Xander turned his head to look at him. "Well, it's about time," Sunter told his captive with a snort. "You've been out for a little more than an hour." He pointed at him and chuckled. "And you've drooled on yourself."

"Gee, thanks for noticing," Xander snapped sarcastically. "It's a habit I'm trying to break."

Sunter laughed at him. Then he waved a hand through the air. "Ah, don't worry about it. Besides, I'm going to do you a favor. I'm going to help you break every one of your bad habits. I'm sure you have a lot of them." He was holding something in his hand. He raised it and he shook it, causing it to make a rattling sound.

Xander didn't like the sound of that. "What are you talking about?" He tried to get a look at what the man was holding, but he couldn't see it clearly.

"I'm talking about your bad habits, boy. I'm going to make them all go away...with these." He shook the bottle of pills that he was holding in front of Xander's face. He smiled, watching Xander's face for a reaction.

"Wh-what are those...exactly?" Xander asked nervously.

"They're sedatives."

"Sedatives?"

Sunter nodded, still grinning. "Yeah. That's right."

"Uhm..." Xander chuckled nervously. "Wait a minute. You're going to make this look like a suicide. Is that it?"

"A suicide?" Sunter shrugged. "How am I going to do that?"

"C'mon! This is the oldest trick in the book! You're going to make me take those and then leave me somewhere with the empty bottle in my hand. You can't do this!"

He shrugged again. "Actually, I can do this. But...it's not going to happen exactly like you say it is."

Xander looked at him with morbid curiosity. "Uhm...Oh, wait! Then, you're going to commit suicide!" At least he could hope anyway.

Sunter shook his head. "Wrong again. You see, what I'm going to do is give you enough of these to keep you semi-conscious, but sedated enough where you are incapable of saving yourself." He chuckled as if he had an inside joke and wasn't going to share it with anyone.

"This sounds bad!" Xander exclaimed. "Incapable of saving myself? From what?"

He smiled. "From drowning."

"Drowning?" Xander looked at him with a panicked expression. "I'm going to drown?"

Sunter nodded his head. "Yes, you're going to drown, and I'm going to watch. You see, after I give you enough of these--" He shook the bottle of pills. "--I'll just wait for it to work in your system for a little while. Then, you and I are going to go for a little boat ride down the river. When we get to a reasonable location that is totally witness free, I shall simply drop you into the river and watch you drown."

Xander stared at him in horror. "What kind of a sick bastard are you?!" He swallowed a lump in his throat. "This is bad! This is really really bad!"

Sunter popped open the pills and he poured some out into his hand.

Xander watched him. He had to do something to stall for time. Then maybe a miracle would happen. "Hey!" he exclaimed nervously. "Are-are you really going to make me swallow those dry?"

Sunter placed the pill bottle into his pocket as he smiled at Xander. "It just so happens that I did bring a cooler full of beer."

"Oh, that's great! Uhm, what kind?"

Sunter grinned at him. "Does it matter?"

"I-I guess not. As long as it's a cold one," he said with a nervous laugh.

Sunter clapped him on the shoulder and then he walked over to the cooler he had placed on the floor hours before. He opened it. As he held onto the pills in one hand, he pulled out an ice cold can of beer with the other hand. Then he closed the cooler and walked back toward Xander.

Xander took a deep breath. "Look...before you pop the tab on that thing..."

Sunter looked at him. "What do you want, kid? I've got all night."

Xander was hoping that he had all night, too. "Can't a condemned man have a last request?"

Sunter tossed back his head and he laughed. "Hell, I like you, kid. You want a last request? Is that what you want?"

"A-actually, yes. I do."

"Aw, well..." Sunter shrugged his shoulders and he grinned at Xander. "Why the hell not? Just make it a reasonable request, boy. Like a smoke or something. There's no way I'm gonna go into the kitchen to cook you a last meal."

Xander shook his head. "Well, I won't ask you for a meal. And I don't want a smoke. I just want to know one thing." He tried hard not to glare at the man. "I just want to know what you did to Willow. At least tell me that."

Sunter regarded him for a moment. Then he let out a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. He chuckled. "You know what I'm going to do, kid? I'm going to tell you what I did to your pretty little friend and I'll tell you what I did to Kali, too." He winked at him. "Hell, they both made me a lot of money, but your red-headed girlfriend made me a lot more money than I would have thought possible." He laughed.

Xander stared at him. He felt sick to his stomach. "What...what are you talking about?"

"That's right, kid. I made me some money." He whistled. "I got me a whole whopping ten percent fee right off from the sale and then I got me a five thousand dollar bonafide bonus!" He grinned at Xander. "Hey, listen...that girl has made me more money than from the last two girls I sold from this camp last year."

Xander was horrified at what he was hearing. "You...you sold...you sold Willow?" He felt like he wanted to throw up. Where was Willow now? he wondered, if this mad man was even telling the truth. He was worst than the Master. "Wha...? What in God's name are you?"

"Hey, I'm just a man making a profit, kid." Sunter looked at him. "White slavery is a thriving business. And did you know that your friend Willow is a rarity? Girls like her are worth a fortune!" He nodded his head. "Oh, yeah, my friend. That's right. Long red hair. Pretty green eyes." He held up the pills in his hand to Xander. "I simply popped some of these babies into her soft drink and she was gone minutes later." He laughed. "I had to follow her back to her room, and for a minute there, I thought she was going to pass out in the corridor. She opened the door to her room and fell right inside. I came in behind her, scooped her up in my arms...and then I put her in a chest like the one you opened before I conked you one. I tied her up with a pair of stockings and I stuffed a gag in her mouth. You never know...she could have awakened. But I'm sure she didn't." He smiled. "Then I closed the chest up, locked it...and away she went." He shook his head at the memory. "Oh, I got my money and I promised to do my part for next year. And then you came along asking questions."

Xander couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt his eyes begin to blur as he thought of Willow being sold like she was merchandise. "Oh, God...w-where is she, you bastard? Who did you sell her to? Where did she go?!"

"What does that matter to you? You'll never find her. You'll be dead soon."

"Tell me!!"

Sunter hesitated. "S'ushi Alyssia." He paused in thought. "That's who owns your pretty little red head now. She took her to Boston, but she had to drop off Kali at the Funhouse outside of LA first. But after that, who knows? And who cares?" He shrugged. "Does it really matter now?" He regarded Xander thoughtfully. "Hey...you wanna know something else that's unique about your friend? There's something else about her that makes her so rare to these people. You know what it is?" He smiled as he brought his face close to Xander's. He chuckled. "She's a virgin. Now I really do wish that I could have had at least a half hour or so with that girl myself, to be honest with you. Now be honest. You can't tell me that you haven't kissed that red head, huh? Or that you haven't wanted to spend some quality time with her. Eh?"

Xander struggled in vain against his restraints. "You son-of-a-bitch! All I really want to do is get my hands around your throat!!"

Sunter popped the tab of the beer and grinned at his captive. "Yeah, but it's just too bad that you can't." He chuckled.

"You're right. It sucks!" Xander ceased his struggles and then he appeared to resign himself to his fate. He let out a weary sigh. "I'd really love to get my hands around your neck right now...but I can't." He paused for affect. "So I'm gonna have to settle with watching him do it."

Sunter chuckled. And that's when he realized what Xander had just told him. He looked at him. "What did you say? You have to settle with watching 'him' do it? Who is 'him'?"

"I am him," growled a voice from behind him.

Sunter froze. He stared at Xander. "Uhm...did you just throw your voice?"

"Gee, let me think." Xander shook his head. "No."

Slowly, Sunter turned himself around and he wished that he hadn't. He found himself face to face with Angel.

Sunter puffed out his chest and glared. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

Angel's human face abruptly changed to that of his vampire face. "I'm someone you don't want to know."

Sunter screamed.
____________________________________________________



BOSTON

My life had changed drastically since I was told that I had six months to a year to live. I found myself looking for things to do to keep my mind occupied. I didn't want to actually confront my mortality just yet because as much as I hated to admit it...it scared the hell out of me.

Susan would tell me that I was in denial.

She would be right.

However, even if she were with me now instead of at some conference in Pittsburgh, I was certain that there wasn't anything she could do for me I couldn't do for myself. Besides, I wasn't ready to tell her just yet. If she had been home, I wouldn't be able to keep it from her for very long.

So...this thing they called cancer changed my life forever whether I was ready to face it or not. It was an ugly monster. It came into my world and in one full swipe, it tore at the very core of my being. So I was just beginning to believe that there was nothing in this world any more which could change my life for the better...even if it was for a short time. I was convinced that there was no hope. No joy. No blessings left of any kind. That maybe I had just used them all up and now my time in this life was over.

So I say again...

Cancer changed my life for the very worst, and there wasn't anything out there now to offer me any hope.

But that's when I met her.

And she proved me wrong.

There was hope. It came from a red-haired, green-eyed young lady by the name of Willow Rosenberg. The girl with the eyes of a keen mind and a kind heart. The girl who took abuse and came back surviving. The bravest little girl I have ever met.

When I first saw her, I didn't know her name. I didn't know who she was, nor what circumstances in her life had brought her here to Boston Memorial. All I saw was a pretty young girl lying in a hospital bed with I. V.'s hooked up to her small wrist. She was lying there with her eyes closed and she looked so peaceful. So beautiful.

This girl was going to change my life for the better.

I saw Quirk sitting in a chair by the bed as I entered the room. He saw me and he nodded a greeting.

I nodded back as I looked at the girl. "Frank said she was special," I said softly. "He was right. She does look special, doesn't she?"

Quirk nodded. "She is."

"I figure she has to be for you to assign two men outside her room," I observed. "And I'm also figuring that she has to be even more special for you to stay here with her all day."

Quirk rubbed at his eyes. "I'm...I'm just tired, Spense." He turned his head to look at the girl and there was pain in his eyes. A pain that spoke volumes about the many kids out there on the streets who hadn't been as lucky as the girl was. "God, I'm just so damned tired."

But he wasn't talking about sleep. "I know, Marty," I said gently. "But you can't save them all."

"Maybe not. But I can save this one and so can you."

"I'll do what I can."

Quirk looked at me. "Stay with her tonight. In the morning, I'd like for you to take her home with you and keep her safe."

I paused to think about what he was asking me to do. "Do we even know who she is? Who her parents are?"

"We don't know who she is, Spense. I had her prints run through the children's database and there were no matches. She doesn't talk when she's awake. All I heard her say once was a name. Kali."

"Is that her name, you think?"

Quirk shook his head. "No. She was saying it like she was looking for someone. Like she was calling out." He let out a weary sigh. "All we know about this poor kid now is that she's a living Jane Doe."

I looked at the girl. "How is she doing?"

Quirk paused. "Well...there were traces of Versed and Robinol in her blood. One drug is used to dull the memory...or even erase it, and the other drug is used to keep her conscious but sedated."

I didn't like the sound of that. "Conscious but sedated...And aware."

He nodded grimly.

"Was she...?" I stopped. Any other time, I would have asked bluntly whether the girl had been raped or molested in any way, but I didn't want to verbalize it while she was in the room. Conscious or not.

Quirk knew what I was asking anyway. He shook his head. "No, Spense. She was lucky in that." He paused. "It's my guess that whoever it was that was keeping her didn't want her to be touched." He frowned as he rubbed his eyes. "Spense...the drugs in her blood weren't the only things they found. She has what they describe as internal bruising. They believe that it means she was hit with something that was meant not to leave marks."

I clenched my teeth in anger and I swore under my breath. I looked at Jane Doe.

"The EKG's also showed signs of some kind of shock treatment."

I shook my head. "Anything else?"

"No."

I wished I knew who had done these things now because I would have gone after them right at that moment. But I didn't know, and I couldn't leave her when she needed me now. "Okay, Marty. She'll be safe now."

Quirk nodded his head. "If she's with you, I know she'll be safe. But you might have to keep her for awhile. The Doc tells me that the odds are not in her favor of having her memory returned."

I hesitated. "Look, Marty, I'm a pretty big guy. Don't you think she'll be afraid of me? If Susan were here--"

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "No, Spense, she won't be afraid of you. And it's actually better that Susan isn't here."

That surprised me. It must have showed, even though I am not so easily surprised by anything.

"The girl wasn't afraid of me. She wasn't even afraid of Frank if you can believe that. But there was a woman doctor and two women nurses who tried to help her when we first arrived." He glanced at the girl. "She was terrified of them."

I thought about that. "Did she scream or cry out? Did she say anything?"

He shook his head. "No. She just sat there, tensed up, and trembled. I'll never forget that look of terror on her face."

I guessed the rest. "So the women backed out of the room and a male doctor came in."

"With a male nurse."

"How did she respond then?"

"Better. She watched them, and there was still fear in her eyes, but not as bad." He shook his head in wonder. "She watched them and responded to them. Spense, she didn't even flinch when they put her I. V.'s in."

I tried to keep my expression normal as a sudden wave of pain struck me in the lower back. I closed my eyes and hoped it would just pass quickly, but it didn't. I clenched my teeth, placed my hand on the wall to steady myself and I opened my eyes. I hoped that Quirk would think I was just stretching.

He was looking at the girl so he didn't notice. For that, I was grateful.

For the girl, it was a different story. Her eyes were open and they were focused on me.

I thought I composed myself rather well. I thought about what she must have gone through and realized that whoever had tormented her had to have been a woman.

I tried to smile reassuringly at her as the pain subsided. "Hi," I managed to say with some resemblance of dignity.

Quirk looked at me with concern.

I cleared my throat and looked at the girl. "Hi," I said to her, a bit more clearly. "My name is Spenser."

Her eyes were not only pretty but they were very inquisitive as she looked at me. After she looked at me for awhile, she turned her head to look at Quirk. I got the impression she just wanted to know if he was still there.

Quirk said to me, "Hold your hand out to her."

I moved slowly toward the bed. I got to the girls side and I held out my hand toward her with my palm facing upward. She looked at my hand and then she looked up at me. I didn't know what was going through her mind. How could I possibly know? She reached for my hand and she grabbed it. When she looked up at me again, I could see tears forming in her eyes.

I knelt beside the bed so that I was level with her. "I'm here to help you," I said to her gently. "Do you understand?"

She nodded.

I wondered about why Quirk wanted me to stretch out my hand to her and I also wondered why she took my hand. Even now, she didn't seem to want to let go.

She looked at me one last time, and then she closed her eyes.

I looked at Quirk.

"What do you think that means?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't know." I looked at the girl thoughtfully. "Some kind of gesture that she responds to. Maybe from someone she knew."

"Maybe from Kali."

"Maybe."

After awhile, Quirk left. I sat in the chair beside her bed and watched over her as she slept. Throughout her restless sleep, she managed to keep a tight grip on my hand and she never let go.