WARNING: This fic will include violence, torture, bondage, character death,
bloodplay, etc...
 

**********
Part 3

*****

Xander stealthily followed the soldier, Miller, through the streets of Sunnydale. He
kept roughly half a block between them, but Xander had no worries about losing track of
the human, not with that strong, steady heartbeat to guide him... unless, of course, it got
lost amongst other strong, steady heartbeats.

The vampire?s jaw dropped as he took in the sight a few hundred yards in front of him.
Soldiers. Everywhere. It was like those cheap, green plastic Army men that came in a
bucket had somehow come to life.

Green.

Green men.

?Shit!? Xander ducked into an alley. Darla?s warning from Dru rang in his ears. It was
obvious the soldiers were the cryptic ?green men? from the vision. There was no way
their appearance could be considered a coincidence. On the Hellmouth, there was no such
thing as coincidences. But, why were they here? And, if Dru had been right about their
presence, then could she have also been right about the rest of the warning? Would the
?green men? try and take him someplace? Xander was confused and for the first time
since his death, frightened. He didn?t like either of those feelings, not one bit.

He knew that trying to take control of the situation was unrealistic, but assessing it was
not. He just needed to be a bit more removed from things. Xander took in his grimy
surroundings. It was an average alley, and like many other alleys, it had its very own
rickety fire escape hanging perilously to the side of one of the buildings. Xander jumped
up and carefully used the ancient looking apparatus to make his way to the top.

As the vampire lifted himself onto the roof, he swore again and dropped into a crouch.
There had been movement on a few neighboring rooftops. More soldiers. Snipers,
probably. Xander gently sniffed the air and sensing no humans on his building, he carefully
edged closer to where the action was going to be. He kept low, not wanting to draw any
attention to himself, and peered over the edge of the roof.

The soldiers looked kind of like big green ants now, except they weren?t scurrying
around. Most of them were standing completely still, waiting. Others were checking
various weapons.

Xander gasped, something he hadn?t done since the night Darla ripped open his throat.
Even from distance it was easy to recognize the thing that had suddenly popped out of
one of the man?s weapons. It was a stake.

Suddenly, an idea came into Xander?s head. He looked around him at the various buildings,
trying to discern his position. Yes, he knew where he was, and everything became crystal
clear. The ?green men? were after vampires. They were going to storm the Bronze.
These walking blood bags actually meant business.

Xander slowly sat back on his haunches. What an interesting dilemma. He knew he should
attack first. They thought their back was secure and surprise might give him the
opportunity to tear out a few jugulars before a stake was stuck in his chest. Or, perhaps
he should try to sound the alarm. Alert his undead brethren. Again, before he was
staked. No, neither of those options sounded particularly appealing, especially since both
scenarios would most likely end with him doing a permanent impression of a dust bunny.

Of course, there was always a third alternative - hunker down and wait it out. From his
vantage point Xander had a relatively secure location to watch the show and formulate a
course of action based on the results. Regardless of the outcome, things in Sunnydale
were about to change dramatically. If the vampires were victorious, it would be short
lived when faced with the seemingly limitless supply of manpower that the military
boasted. Kill twenty soldiers today, get two thousand on your doorstep tomorrow. But, if
the soldiers were victorious, then.... that might not be so bad. Having a government agent
kill Willow would be a whole hell of a lot easier then trying to break up with her.

And, the Master? His Master? As far as Xander was concerned that backward old fool
deserved everything he got. After all, he practically brought this on himself.

The more Xander thought about it, the more he realized it was only a matter of time
before a raid like this happened. Back in the Middle Ages or whenever it might have
been all right for the population of a town to be unexplainably decimated. It was simply
called an act of God, or the devil, or something. But, there was no way the modern
American government would be so uncaring about the loss of such a large group of
taxpayers.

Xander peered over the side again and watched as the one he had followed, Miller, put a
hand up to his ear, nodded, then motioned to his compatriots.

As they began to move stealthily towards the Bronze Xander felt the last of his
trepidation vanish. This was what he wanted, after all. Something to shake up the status
quo, a challenge. Xander allowed himself a small grin. He couldn?t wait to find out what
happened next.

*****

Forrest had never been a particularly religious person. Even when he was a child and his
Nanna had to resort to begging, bribes, and finally threats to get him to sing in the boys
gospel choir at their church. The idea of an all knowing, all powerful, loving creator was
nice, he supposed, but there was nothing tangible about it. No proof. Even to his eight
year old mind, without evidence, the whole theory seemed highly ridiculous.

And after learning of the reality of demons, that they actually existed, did nothing to
change his mind where religion was concerned. The assorted horns, and fangs, and glowing
red eyes made no difference to him. As far as Forrest was concerned, demons were just
another new species scientists had discovered, like that little deer in Vietnam. They
were animals, nothing more and nothing less. And, like other animals, when they posed a
threat to humans they had to be dealt with.

So, it was with great irony that Forrest, the tried and true atheist of the unit, couldn?t
stop thinking that his team had just entered a circle of Hell when they burst through
the door of The Bronze.

The vampires had been expected... their victims had not.

Humans, or what was left of them, littering the floor, chained to the walls, hanging by
various means from the ceiling...

The vampires? shock at such a blatant intrusion was mirrored by the soldiers? shock over
such abominable tortures. Both groups seemed to recover at the same time. And then,
the fight began. Bolts of pure energy flew through the room, some hitting targets,
others leaving scorch marks on the walls. The blasts that did make their marks were
successful, though. Vampires were going down. Unfortunately, so were soldiers.

Riley?s head whipped around as someone to his left let out a guttural scream. A
magnificent arc of blood caught him in the face as the vein of a man he had played
basketball with was slashed by a single claw. Riley watched, unbelievingly, as his
teammate died right before his eyes, the man?s uniform turning black from the red
liquid that was soaking into it.

The creature that had been holding him, that had killed him, was grotesque, its face
deformed beyond even the normal fangs and brow ridges. Riley knew he should shoot it,
or better still, stake the bastard, but as those ancient eyes bored into him, the Marine
found he couldn?t do much of anything. He was rooted to the spot, paralyzed. Luckily,
though, as the thing in front of him sprang forward, Riley was able to close his eyes.

*****

Graham?s team was faring a bit better. They had burst in through the back, quickly
stunning the vampires there. Then, half had waited, ready to stop anything that tried to
escape, while the others began to fan out through the back areas of the club.

Graham had found a small staircase behind an unmarked door. Soft lights reached up to
greet him as he cautiously descended into the basement of the building. The Marine was
almost to the bottom when the smell hit him. His nose twitched, his brow furrowed, and
part of his mind began to try and place the odor, even though something told him he
really didn?t want to identify it.

He carefully eased out into the room, his attention immediately drawn to something on
his right. A cage had been built into the wall and lying on the floor of it...

Now Graham knew where the smell was coming from.

?Shit!? The Marine hurried over to the inert, chained form, easily slipping in through the
unlocked cage door. Tears formed in his eyes as he bit back the urge to relinquish his
last meal. He didn?t bother checking for a pulse, it was obvious the man before him was
already dead. An autopsy would have to be performed to determine the exact cause of
death, but Graham was fairly certain it would have something to do with the black,
bubbled blisters covering the man?s chest and stomach.

That smell...

Summer nights spent in the backyard, playing with his younger siblings while his father
barbecued...

Graham shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. There was nothing he could do here.
The Marine turned around and before his brain could comprehend the figure in front of
him, his weapon was knocked from his grasp and a strong hand had closed around this
throat.

?You know,? the petite redheaded vampire grinned. ?I?ve been thinking about getting a
new puppy...?

**********