Sorry About That

In the forty-eight years of it's history, the Berling's Bottling Company never really had very many acts of violence occur within it's walls. If the old red brick sided building with massive bay doors at each end and an open corridor down the middle could talk, and who really knows that a building couldn't talk, maybe we just don't hear them, it would tell stories of the times when three of it's workers had taken justice into their own hands against a coworker stealing from the locker room, or when the old overly amorous plant manager was pushed off of the overhead catwalk by his own secretary, or maybe even the memorable time when the much disliked Janitor Melvin Styles somehow managed to get himself killed by getting stuck in the labeling machine. None of these rather unhappy moments however were preceded by the level of stress and the sensation of inevitable destruction that was apparent in the silent factory this evening.

At one end in the huge open doorway in front of the black Suburban stood Xander, with a shotgun that Kennedy had given him. The end of the barrel had a mass of duct-tape around it securing it to Sam's neck. Next to them stood Buffy, a vision of trendiness in her black suede leather bustier, brilliant blue open silk shirt and black shiny leather laced pants and spike heeled boots. But it wasn't her outfit that immediately drew the eye, it was the lethal looking black compound crossbow leaning on her shoulder that did it.

Two hundred feet away at the other end of the factory stood Michael, plainly dressed in a white shirt and jeans, holding a Colt Commander ten millimeter pistol down in his hand. Behind him there was a Chevy cargo van parked sideways with the sliding cargo door partially opened ominously.

A crossbow, really? Michael thought. This may be the first time he had ever had to consider what an opponent could do with that weapon.

"Maybe they were all out of pistols, Michael," Fiona's voice sounded in his earpiece. "It looks like Sam can barely stand, he won't be able to run for cover."

"That's already factored into the plan, Fi," Michael responded normally, his throat microphone automatically activating. "We're short at least two hostiles."

"I'm sure they're flanking us, Michael, we'll know soon enough." Michael had picked this location because it was a great deal closer to where we were compared to his mother's house, Fiona thought, knowing that she had certainly used that advantage fruitfully. She sighted her Dragonov sniper rifle right between the blond girl's eyes and snickered again to herself that the bimbo had brought a crossbow of all things. Rookie mistake, you held all of the cards, you should have demanded your own meeting place, Fiona thought with a predatory smile.

"Where's the beyotch that took my sister to the doggie doc, Sam?" Buffy said as she let her senses reach out as far as they could.

"Ah, you know how it is, Buffy," Sam started laughing. "Sorry, I can't help it, how am I ever going to tell Boris and the boys that I was tortured by a Buffy." He swallowed any further laughs at her intimidating look and Xander's slight jab with the end of the shotgun barrel. "She probably couldn't get time off from work, Boss is a slave driver I guess."

"Sure, Sam, I'm positive she's not looking at me through the scope of a rifle right now," Buffy replied softly as she text messaged Faith about the location of the woman up on the catwalk, crouched behind a box at the far end.

Xander fought to calm his breathing. Was Dawn in that van, behind the door? Was she listening? Was she conscious? No one would say it, but he knew the others didn't have much hope. When was this damn thing going to start? They had taken up positions and Faith and Kennedy had gone to each side of the building to find a way in. Come on already, let's do this...

Faith slid silently along the outer east side of the Plant, looking up at a Fire Escape exit high enough that it had to connect with the catwalk that the sniper was hiding on. Going from shadow to shadow she paused deciding out a path up to that entryway; climb on a shed, jump across to climb up a drainage pipe, and then again to a ladder connected to what survived the salvaging of the whole Fire Escape structure. Just as she was about to step forward, some instinct that God must grant to Slayer's who lived as long as she had, caused her to glance down. Nearly falling on her face in the attempt not to step on the almost invisible laser tripwire, she twisted her body around and came face to face with a Claymore Antipersonnel Mine backed up by at least a pound of C4 explosives. SHIT! she screamed to herself, frantically texting a message to Kennedy.

The explosion on the western side of the building rocked the whole complex and buckled in that wall somewhat. A swearing Faith threw herself at the path up with abandon.

"Now, Fi!" Michael yelled.

The shot exploded Xander's shotgun and pieces of the shrapnel slamming into his face caused him to fall to a knee. Sam fell over heavily on his side and tried to crawl to cover behind the Suburban.

"Damn," Fiona said softly when her second shot missed the blond girl's crossbow. Her third missed the girl herself completely. How can she move that fast? Fi wondered, letting her go so she could cover Sam.

Michael fired his Colt in an effort to pin the girl down, then blinked at her charging right toward him raising the crossbow. His shots missed by a hair, one even creased her shoulder, but she gave no reaction, firing the crossbow on the run. The bolt flew straight at him, in slow motion it seemed, he turned his head away as quickly as he could, watching as the bolt came right by his eyes, slicing his cheek and going straight through the bottom of his right ear until it lodged itself into the side of the van.

Falling on his ass, he tried to hit her with the last few shots in his clip; missing, he yelled as she closed the distance aiming the crossbow again, "ZONE TWO NOW, FI!"

Tracking her scope on the man, Fiona fired into the hood of the Suburban to keep him from going around to where Sam was. Hearing the sound of Michael's frantic shots, she immediately swung her rifle in the other direction. Again her shot missed the running girl's head, Fi held her breath as the crossbow bolt made it's lethal journey.

A small explosion sounded at the other end of the catwalk. Knowing it was a perimeter grenade she had set to cover her from that direction, she had to have faith that Michael could take care of himself.

Faith leaped past the explosion having sensed the grenade fall from it's trap, she somersaulted into a tuck and roll, and came up running at the Swat gear wearing chick.

"ZONE TWO NOW, FI!" Fiona, who had dropped the rifle and spun towards the charging brunette, dove back to the detonator switch and set off zone two.

The massed Flash/Bang Munitions of Zone Two detonated with a airborne slayer practically on top of them. She had launched herself to finish this fight with Mikey, but realizing he had rolled to flatten his face into the ground, all she could do in the split second that preceded the blast was to cover her own face with her arms. She crashed bodily into the side of the van, the momentum she was carrying added to the push from the explosion caused her to crush the van's side wall and door like tissue paper, the whole frame buckling inwards.

Fiona turned back having just enough time to draw her favorite close quarters combat knife Mr.Frenchy, as Faith's shoulder charge launched both of them into the wooden boxes at the end of the catwalk. Smashing through them and flying right off the walkway, they fell ten feet to the roof of a large storage container.

Fiona shakily got back to her feet and smiled, having managed to hang on to Mr.Frenchy.

"Your going to need more than that, Honey," Faith spoke, as the two women stood face to face for a moment measuring each other.

Michael's senses finally cleared and he struggled back to his feet. Looking at the devastation of the van he was amazed that the woman wasn't dead. Not only was she still alive, except for a few scrapes and burns she didn't even look hurt. But he could see that the Flash/Bangs had really done something to her. She was screaming, thrashing around, hyperventilating, and her eyes were pouring.

Just as he found his empty pistol, still having not decided what he was going to do about her, shots impacted the ground near him. Spinning towards the attack he could see the guy running towards him as fast as he could on the injured leg firing a pistol at the same time. Stepping forward Michael reloaded the gun and braced his forearm to aim back.

Faith swept in, getting nicked by the knife. This broad has skills, she thought, kicking her leg out to knock the woman back. They surged into each other in a blur of hand strikes and blocks, knees and headbutt attempts. If it was anyone but a Slayer, Faith had no doubt the hot chick could have won. But she was a slayer and her speed and the intuition to predict her foe's next move made the outcome a foregone conclusion. Catching the incoming arm with the knife, Faith turned her shoulder into the attack and leveled a devastating elbow to the chest of the other fighter, sending her down instantly. Faith picked up the wicked cool fighting knife and knelt by her fallen opponent. "Let's finish this," she said pulling the woman's head up by her hair.

Buffy couldn't breath, the pressure from the blast having annihilated her senses. She couldn't hear anything but a jet engine roaring between her ears. At least she could see a little as the throbbing whiteness started to clear in her eyes. Slayers with enhanced everything and those flashy things so do not match, she thought to herself trying to distract from the incredible pain a bit. In fact, it'll be a miracle if I don't find the bastard that invented them and ram a bunch up his ass. Seeing Michael aiming down the corridor and knowing Xander or Kennedy was likely coming that way, she forced herself to act. Her body and mind screaming in protest, she ignored it all and managed to flop over into his legs. It wasn't much but it served to knock him sideways and disrupted his aim. Gearing up for one more charge to end this threat, she compressed her legs under her and poised to attack.

His whole body bruised, beaten and stabbed from his fight with Sam, Xander hurried as best as he could. After almost hitting Buffy with a shot, he raised the barrel towards the ceiling. The buckled wall to his left burst open and Kennedy landed almost at his feet in a shower of bricks. She looked terrible, her right leg was bent in several directions, her right arm was a bloody mess and her tear streaked face was covered in blood and black soot. He dropped to his knees to help her, holding her head and trying to clear the junk out of her eyes.

"Xander," her ravaged voice sounded too loud. "Willow spoke to me..she's almost here..she..She knows where Dawn is..She's still alive, Xander, Dawn's alive." He quickly set her head down softly and jumped to his feet, all of his pains forgotten...

"STOP..STOP!!!"