Xander hadn't been released from the hospital yet, but that didn't save him from
having to do paperwork. Even after twelve years of practice, paperwork was nothing
more than a royal pain in the ass.
But there were reports to be signed off, requisitions to approve, rosters and schedules
to update and service jackets to do through. And then the thing he hated the most...
evaluations.
Personally, Xander thought evaluations were a bunch of crap, but the Army used
them to determine who was advanced and who wasn't, even who would be allowed to
re-enlist.
All the people in the Squad were top of the line, there were none better.
Xander would be more than willing to put his people up against any special forces
team out there. But the very things that made the Squad so good also made them
piss poor soldiers, as far as the regular Army was concerned anyway.
Over seventy-five percent of the Squad had some kind of disciplinary action permanently
recorded in their jackets. The rest were known as 'non-movers', people who would
be 'encouraged' to leave the Army at the end of their enlistment. Usually by
giving them total shit orders to some of the worst bases the Army had to offer.
The regular Army hot shots that tried for the Squad never made it past the first
engagement. None of them had gotten themselves killed, but it had been close, too close,
on many occasions. Pissing your pants was understandable in some of the situations
the Squad found themselves in, but you still had to be able to act. Not just stand
there like an idiot.
Jamison had been in the stockade when Xander had heard about the man. Jamison had one major
fault. The man couldn't stand an idiot. Non-Comms, generals, Gods or demons, it
didn't matter. If Jamison thought you were an idiot, he'd tell you about it. Hence
his stay in the stockade. That four star just didn't have a sense of humor.
But Jamison's saving grace was his ability to cut through the bullshit and get to
the heart of the matter. The man was a logistical genius. Since Jamison had joined
the Squad, moral had improved and injuries had decreased. But to Xander, the most
important thing was Jamison's honesty. Xander trusted his Sgt. explicitly, so did
every other member of the Squad. Even Nelson.
Nelson was the Squad's only real hardcase. He'd been sent to the stockade no less
than seven times for fighting. Or more accurately, kicking somebody's ass. Nelson
wasn't really that big, actually, he was kinda small. Only 5'8" and about 150 lbs,
Nelson looked like just another guy. There were no bulging muscles, or kick ass
tattoos. Even his scars were minimal, and more the result of average wear and tear
than any major trauma.
But Nelson could take on a vampire hand to hand and come out on top, as Spike had
found out the hard way. To say that Spike had been impressed would be a serious
understatement. The British vampire had even gone so far as to teach Nelson even
more dirty tricks. Just what Nelson didn't need. By rights, and all rules and
regulations, Nelson should have been dishonorably discharged years ago. But
as long as Xander was in charge of the Squad, Nelson wasn't going any where.
Nelson had been with the Squad since the very beginning, one of only five men, including
Xander, that had stuck it out this long. And it was up to Xander to make sure that
Nelson's evals kept the regular Army off Nelson's back.
So, lying in his hospital bed, Xander prepared to perpetrate yet another lie, for
the good of the nation, of course. But God was smiling today, before he could
actually get started, Spike stuck his head in the door.
"Those lawyer blokes Marshall called are here."
Xander dumped the files on the floor next to the bed and practically levitated to
the door, a huge grin on his face, "well, let's not keep them waiting."
Spike shook his head, "you're a weird one, you are, Harris. Don't see what's got
you so chipper about seeing lawyers. This isn't going to be easy, you know."
Xander shrugged, "it'll be a Hell of a lot easier than finishing that paperwork, trust
me."
*****
AJ grinned when he caught sight of his friend. Extending his hand he said, "you're
looking pretty good these days, Ben. Life must be treated you right."
Ben clasped the offered hand warmly, "not too bad, for the most part, but I'll feel
a lot better when this mess is behind us."
AJ went back into his box and Admiral Chedwiggan, the leading lawyer in the Navy,
came forward. With a nod at his aide, he said, "this is Lt. Cmdr Roberts, he'll be
assisting me."
Ben nodded in greeting, "Cmdr."
Bud, who'd always had trouble keeping a military mindset, fought back the smile aching
to come out and merely replied, "General. It's an honor to meet you, Sir."
"Let's head to the conference room, gentlemen. We have a lot of ground to cover.
The others will meet us there."
"Will we be meeting Ms. Rosenburg today, General?" Roberts asked.
Marshall shook his head, "not today. Tomorrow maybe."
Chedwiggan frowned, "we should really meet our client before we do anything else,
Ben."
Marshall sighed and scrubbed his hands across his face, suddenly looking ten years
older. "We've moved her out of the containment cells and placed her in a special
lockdown ward in the hospital. Her companion, Ms. Tara McClay, has insisted on
accompanying her. All charges against Ms. McClay, as well as a Ms. Buffy Summers,
have been summarily dropped."
"Why?" AJ wanted to know.
"We'll tell you everything, AJ. We're going to tell you more than you ever wanted
to know."
The men were silent for the remainder of the journey to the secure conference room where
the others were waiting.
Marshall made short work of the introductions. "This is Major Alexander Harris,
leader of the 'Death Squad'." Chedwiggan and Roberts nodded, both men surprised
by how the infamous Major was. "This is Mr. Rupert Giles and Ms. Buffy Summers,"
Marshall continued, pointing out the only two civilians in the room.
Polite greetings were offered in quiet voices. Then Marshall introduced the final
person, or rather, tried to. Roberts got one look at the blonde man in the black
uniform and went pale. Then his mouth fell open. A split second later, the Lt.
Cmdr. was across the room, moving with a speed and agility that gave lie to the fact
that he was considered 'disabled'.
With an awe struck voice, Roberts said, "William the Bloody. You're William the
Bloody."
Spike quirked a scarred brow, "yeah. Heard of me, have you?"
Chedwiggan, never a man who appreciated being kept in the dark, snarled, "Roberts!"
Roberts turned with a huge smile on his face, "Sir! It's William the Bloody!"
Ben, who'd had the misfortune of being on AJ Chedwiggan's bad side, more than once
in the last twenty five years, tried to head his friend off at the pass.
"AJ, this is Captain William Bloodwell of her Majesty's Special Forces."
Spike wiggled his fingers at the obviously irate Admiral. "Ta, ducks. Charmed
I'm sure."
Xander snickered at Spike's tone while Marshall just rolled his eyes. There were
days he regretted getting out of bed. This looked to be one of them.
When Roberts heard Spike's rank and branch, his eyes went wide again. "A Captain
in the British Special Forces?"
Spike absently checked his nails, "yeah. Only the best for Bessie, don't you know."
"But... but... you're a vampire!"
Everyone in the immediate vicinity heard the roar. "Roberts!"
"But, Admiral, he is. A vampire, I mean. He's famous!" Roberts paused with a
slight frown, "or infamous I guess. It depends on who you're talking to." Roberts
boyish grin returned with a vengeance. "He was part of the Scourge of Europe. He,
personally, caused untold hate and discontent across the continent. Then he moved
onto China. The devastation was almost total."
Chedwiggan could feel the veins in his head bulge under the pressure pounding through
his skull. "Roberts, I swear to God... "
Marshall grabbed his friend's arm, "AJ, calm down. I told you things were a little
strange around here."
AJ jerked away from Ben's grasp, "a little strange? Roberts thinks he's talking
to a vampire!"
The Captain moved around Roberts with a move that shouldn't have been humanly possible.
As he got closer, his face started to change. His brow jutted out impossibly far.
His eyes, which had been a bright blue, shifted to a malevolent yellow. But the most
disturbing thing was the man's teeth. Far longer than they had been, they now ended
in jagged points.
Once he was within touching distance, the Captain stopped his advance. "Yeah, mate,
I'm a bloody vampire. You got a problem with that?" Spike hissed through his fangs.
Chedwiggan had never backed down from anyone, ever. But at this moment, in this
place, he dearly wanted to. "If Ben doesn't have a problem with that, I guess I
don't," Chedwiggan said with practiced calm. "But that still doesn't explain Roberts
behavior."
Spike turned to look at his 'fan'. "True. How do you know so much about me?"
Bud grinned and practically bounced in eagerness. "That's easy. We're cousins.
On my Mom's side."
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