Mbwa Mwitu

Chapter Summary: In which a battle is fought, Wesley takes a stand, and the first warning takes place. And rabid fans will kill the author. She shall die. Dead as a doornail. Or be hit with rotten cucumber, either one.


Spike wasn't sure if what he was experiencing was real. He and Tara had been battling the soldiers for no more than ten minutes now, and the place was already littered with bodies. Some were knocked unconscious, but the majority were dead. Spike snatched one of the soldiers as he aimed his gun at Tara, swiftly snapping his neck. It was all he could do. Simply keep them from gunning down Tara, while she destroyed Level C's security room.

It had happened so fast, Spike wasn't even certain how they had reached this point. One moment he was watching as Tara shot Riley Finn dead and the next he was being pushed into the corner by his pack mate as she suddenly erupted in sparks. When his vision had cleared, Tara was hovering in the middle of the room, her feet a foot off the ground. Her blonde hair had turned stark white, her eyes glowed like the sun. But it wasn't like Willow when she was on a magic high. This was something different.

Tara was nothing less than a Goddess.

Spike tore his eyes away from Tara's form, watching as another one of her lightning bolts struck down yet another soldier.

"Get the vampire!" One soldier yelled, gesturing toward Spike. Spike launched himself into a fight with two more soldiers, throwing punches and kicks faster than the wind. He felt alive! He had his bite back. He was able to defend himself and kill humans without a single bit of pain.

With a roar of pure pleasure, Spike grabbed the head of the nearest soldier and yanked. Blood splattered across his already bloody duster as the head came clear off the body. Tossing the dismembered head to the side, he immediately turned toward the next commando.

Just as he made to reach for him, the soldier stopped short, eyes wide. Letting out a soft gurgle, the man dropped to the ground with a thump, a large piece of metal protruding from his back. Shocked, Spike looked up to see Tara giggling as she caused yet another computer to erupt in a shower of sparks.

"Shoot her, dammit!" The commanding officer ordered, lifting his gun. Spike let out a loud growl and threw himself at the officer. They fell to the ground amongst the rubble. The officer fumbled for his weapon, but Spike snatched it out of his grasp.

"Don't you know guns are dangerous?" Spike asked, shifting into game face. He lunged for the man's throat, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh.

Blood exploded into his mouth, flowing down his throat like the Nile River flowed through the desert. Desire sparked through Spike's body. It had been so long since he had had human blood straight from the source, Xander not included. For Xander's blood tasted sweet, with a hint of animal. This man's blood was tangy and coppery. Spike wanted more.

Yanking his head back, Spike panted needlessly. He carefully wiped a stray drop of blood from his chin and stood. He reached for the next random soldier, his bloodlust taking over and overriding the tiny amount of protest his soul provided out of habit. He drained this one quickly, barely taking the time to enjoy the taste. As he let him drop to the floor, the lights above them began to flash red.

Blinking away the tingling in his head, Spike turned to survey the damage done. All of the computers were destroyed and over half of the soldiers were dead. A small group had gathered along the other side of the pit, backs literally pressed against the wall.

Tara tilted her head, watching them with an owl-like curiosity. Then, with a smile, she raise her hand. Palm turned toward the ceiling, Tara began to whisper. A ball of energy grew above her hand, hovering like a small firefly. Tara smiled once again and, with the other hand, flicked the light toward the group of soldiers.

Spike had to cover his eyes from the light. Screams filled the air and when the light died, there was nothing left of the soldiers.

"Bloody hell." Spike muttered.

"More are coming." Tara stated, her voice tinkling. It reminded Spike of Tinkerbell from Disney's Peter Pan, which Xander had forced him to watch last month. Tara turned to Spike, her eyes glancing past him and at the doorway beyond. The glowing orbs widened. "Spike! Duck!"

Spike barely had time to follow the order. Even with his vampire speed, he wasn't fast enough to get away from the shower of bullets. He fell to the ground, pain lacing through his body. Ten, twelve. Blinking up at the ceiling, Spike counted twelve bullet wounds in his back.

He could hear Tara scream, her voice echoing around the room like a Banshee. And then a shadow fell over him as he began to get up. He could continue. He could fight. But the shadow did not belong to Tara, for she was suddenly glowing like a nova ready to erupt. A shock of magic crashed through the air, felt by even the magically dumb soldiers.

Gasping needlessly, Spike pushed himself onto his knees and threw a punch toward the soldier standing over him. He missed. What he felt next was so familiar, for he had felt it in his nightmares. The feeling of man-made electricity coursed through his body. As Tara screamed again, this time in pain, everything went black.

*****

Wesley Wyndham-Pryce often felt like the only placed he belonged was in the library. While he appreciated Angel allowing him refuge in the Hyperion, he had the suspicion he was always interrupting something. Angel and Doyle had such a strong, deep relationship that the feeling of separation from the duo was often felt.

Especially when they were fighting.

"Don't you get it, Angel?" Doyle was yelling. Wesley hardly ever heard the half-demon raise his voice. He often got agitated and his voice would raise slightly, but never to the point where Wesley could hear him in the library.

Wesley felt a moment of discomfort, before walking over to the door. He knew he shouldn't listen in on the conversation, but he couldn't help himself.

"Spike needed your help." Doyle hissed. Wesley carefully slipped out into the hall and peered into the lobby. Doyle had his arms crossed and was looking up at his lover stubbornly. Angel looked as though he wanted to run away. "I realize you have this big beef with trespassing on Buffy's domain, but Angel, man! Spike asked you for help! How often does that happen?"

"I'm not about to let you or anyone else get hurt because of Spike's problems." Angel snapped.

"And what about Xander or this Oz fellow?" Doyle asked. "I don't know about you, but I don't think I would be able to live with myself if they got hurt or killed."

"Doyle-" Angel started.

"Think about it, Angel." Doyle interrupted. "Just stop and think, for once! You know Spike was telling the truth. Spike may be an annoying little vampire who doesn't know the meaning of shutting up, but he wouldn't lie about something like this." Angel opened his mouth to speak, but Doyle continued on. "No one can pretend that kind of pain, Angel."

"What do you expect me to do?" Angel asked, rubbing at his face. "Rush in there to save the day? Because, fine, I'll do it!"

Wesley turned away as Angel pulled Doyle against him, most likely in an attempt to calm his Seer. A pang shot through Wesley's heart, causing him to feel as though he were the loneliest person on Earth. With a sigh, Wesley leaned against the wall and allowed Doyle and Angel their privacy.

It was then that he felt it. There were no words to describe it, for he had never felt it before. He had known, when agreeing to the small connection Tara made between them, that it would feel strange, but he had no idea it would be this way. It could only be described as a ripple, running through his body, his soul, his being. Magic in nature, he knew at once that it was Tara.

Something had gone wrong. Tara was using the last of her energy in an attempt to fight off an unknown enemy. Wesley's breath caught in his throat and he found himself toppling to the ground with a soft thud.

"Wesley?" Doyle's voice called. Wesley did not have the energy to reply. The sound of footsteps filled his ears. "Wesley! Man, what happened?"

"Tara." Wesley said, drawing in a shaky breath. Angel reached down and helped him sit up. Wesley leaned against it, his head hitting the wall with a thump.

"What about Tara?" Angel asked.

"Something went wrong." Wesley said, wincing as another ripple washed over him. Then, everything seemed to go motionless. The connection was broken.

"What do you mean?" Doyle knelt in front of him, worry evident on his face.

"Tara and I... We created a magical link between us, so I would know if something went wrong when they snuck into the Initiative." Wesley informed them.

"That was dangerous, Wesley." Angel said, his face looking grim.

"Yes, I'm well aware of that." Wesley replied. "But... I could not live with myself, Angel, if they were to get captured and no one was able to help them. It was my choice and my idea."

"But what if Tara drew power from you?" Angel asked, growing agitated. "She might not have-"

"Tara is strong." Wesley interrupted, slowly pushing himself to his feet. "She has the strongest power, with barely a taint of darkness, that I have ever seen. Willow's power looks like a large black mass compared the purity of Tara's soul. I can assure you, there was no chance of Tara losing that kind of control. Besides, the link is broken now."

"Broken?" Doyle's green eyes darted toward Angel and back. "That's not good, is it?"

"It means one of two things." Wesley said, closing his eyes. "She's either dead, which would explain the abrupt end to the connection. Or... She's unconscious. I felt... She was using the last of her energy for some sort of offensive attack. It's possible it drained her, leaving her defenseless."

"We need to get to Sunnydale." Angel stated, turning on his heal and making his way to the weapons cabinet.

"Do you have a plan?" Wesley asked, rushing after him, Doyle at his side.

"We go in. We cut our way through and save a few souls." Angel said, glancing over his shoulder. "That a good enough plan for you?"

"What made you change your mind?" Doyle asked, curiously.

"Maybe I figured out that you were right." Angel offered.

"And that you've been acting like a spoiled brat who wants to get his way?" Doyle finished.

"Don't push it." Angel said with a slight smile.

"That still doesn't stop the fact that we don't have a plan." Wesley pointed out, grabbing his coat. "And what about Cordelia? Our clients?" He paused, fingering his sleeve. "Perhaps we should call Gunn? He could watch the hotel for us."

"Sure." Angel agreed. He shared a look with Doyle, before gesturing toward the office. "Why don't you take care of that?"

Despite the situation, Wesley found a gathering of giddiness in his stomach. He couldn't help it, he seemed to develop that creation every time Charles Gunn was brought into the picture. He quickly made his way to the office, calling the small warehouse that the younger man used as a base. After speaking with one of Gunn's friend, he found himself talking to Gunn himself.

"Hey, English." Gunn's voice sounded deep and rich against Wesley's ear.

"Ah, Charles." Wesley stammered. He cleared his throat before continuing. "There appears to be a problem in Sunnydale that we need to go take care of."

"What kind of problem?" Gunn asked.

"Apparently, the American military has created a unit underneath Sunnydale." Wesley explain. "They are experimenting on non-humans. While this may seem fine and dandy to some, they are also capturing harmless demons and half-humans. A couple of friends have gone missing and we are going to retrieve them."

"Okay, but what do you want me to do?"

"Could you watch the Hyperion?" Wesley asked. "Take care of anything that might come up and... Inform Cordelia of our departure."

"Man, I am not telling that woman that you left without informing her." Gunn insisted. "Do I want to die by the hand of a spoiled white girl? No."

"Yes, alright. We'll... Leave her a note." Wesley offered.

"Man, it's so sad that we are all afraid of that girl." Gunn commented. "But I'll be over within the hour. Hey... And English?"

"Yes, Charles?"

"Be careful, okay?" Gunn's voice had gone soft. Wesley felt as though his head had floated away from his body. Taking a deep breath, Wesley smiled.

"I will." Wesley replied. They said goodbye and Wesley made his way back into the lobby. "So, have you developed a plan yet?"

"We'll inform Giles of our presence." Angel informed him. "Otherwise, we'll keep a low profile and sneak into the base. Hopefully we'll be able to get in, grab everyone, and get out without too much of a fuss."

Wesley nodded and grabbed one of the bags of weapons Angel had prepared. The nervousness that always enveloped him before a battle began. Shoving it away, Wesley pushed through the Hyperion's front door and to the car awaiting inside.

Sadly, they forgot to write Cordelia a note, leaving an unsuspecting Gunn to her anger.

*****

"Professor Walsh." The solider saluted along with his two companions. "You wished to see us?"

"Yes." Walsh turned toward the glass wall, leading into a small cell. Inside a girl of barely twenty lay on the ground, eyes closed. Walsh had been observing her for some time, watching as her hair slowly bleed from white back to dirty blonde. "This is the girl that attacked Level C with the vampire."

Walsh glanced over her shoulder and at the only other occupied cell in the hallway. Inside a vampire was strapped to the ground with chains. He had yet to awaken and Walsh suspected he would not be too happy when he realized what had happened.

"Ma'am?" The soldier asked, looking rather confused.

"No crime should go unpunished, Forrest." Walsh stated. "This girl destroyed an entire security room. Those computers are completely unsalvageable. She also slaughtered over one hundred of your fellow soldiers. This girl is no more human than the demons you capture for me every day."

"I'm not sure I understand, ma'am." Forrest admitted.

"It's simple." Walsh gave him a smile. She reached over and swiped her card through the glass wall's lock. The wall began to slide open. Walsh eyed at the girl a moment, before turning back to Forrest. Forrest gulped as she reached forward and undid the buckle of his pants. "Punish her. Simple as that."

With that said, Walsh made her way down the hall, listening as her soldiers entered the girl's cell. She paused briefly in front of the vampire's enclosure. The vampire's blonde head moved slowly, his lips forming a slight frown. Walsh smirked. Perhaps he would awaken in time to see the show.