The Paragon Of Animals
Parts 22 - 24
Bob glanced blandly at the gun before looking at the Frenik holding it,wondering if this was Krukval.He was supposed to be the big,fancy ass hoo haa in the Frenik mercenary world,but Bob had never hired him,and would never,because,basically,he was a putz.He supposedly had a thing for expensive suits,pinstripes,and a taste of the 'ultraviolence'.
Krukval waved the barrel,as if to pull Bob's attention back to it,but he didn't care.This was not the first time he had a gun in his face,and,no matter how brief his existence might be from now on,he bet it wouldn't be the last time he had a gun jammed in his face.
"I can pay you triple whatever they're paying you,"Bob said blandly.He wasn't offering,he was just pointing it out.
Bob heard some shifting behind him;the idea of that much money-however much it was (must have been a hell of a lot)-made them anxious.Krukval's men would have been happy to make that trade and walk away with the money.
But not Krukal-his eyes remained stoney and implacable."I don't want your fucking money,'Max'."He said it with such contempt that only then did Bob realize he hated him.Why?Because he had never hired him and his band of crooks?Or because he had power Krukval could only dream of?
"So what are they offering you?Power?Immortality?Their personal guarantee you will not end up an appetizer for whatever they're bringing up?"He kept his voice low,level,calm,so it would appear he was in control of the situation.After all,belief was three fifths of reality.
"None of your fucking business,Belial,"Krukval spat,inadvertently telling him-without having said a word-that he was working for Wolfram and Hart.He then stepped back and gestured with the gun barrel towards the end of the sewer tunnel behind him.
Bob stayed right where he was,folding his arms over his chest and fixing Krukval with a stringent glare."You stupid shit-don't you know I could crush you like a fucking bug?This is your last chance,Lizard Boy.Leave now,and I'll let you walk away with your lives."
There was some nervous tittering behind him,but Krukval's laugh was full throated and deeply amused."I heard you were a funny guy,Bob,but I had no idea.That's fucking hilarious."
"I'm as funny as clown shoes,"Bob agreed,deadpan.
Krukval gestured with his gun barrel once more,apparently unaware of the shadows growing at the mouth of the tunnel.Bob didn't need to look around to know the other tunnel outlets were filled with shadows too.Freniks were great muscle-very hard to kill,immune to bullets,mean and stubborn as all hell.But they were not,as a rule,the sharpest knives in the drawer."Move your ass,Bob,"Krukval snarled,still ignorantly blissful.
But Bob remained stock still,unable to keep from smiling at this stupid little man.No wonder he had never made it far in the underground."Did it ever occur to you Bellara isn't the only one who can play with people's heads?"
Krukval's crimson eyes bugged out in annoyance with him."Do you ever shut the hell up?You can't fuck with our minds,Belial-what,are you some kind of retard?We're immune to you,asshole."
"They're not,"Bob said flatly,giving him a cold smile.
Krukval,his expression suddenly falling like a badly made souffle,finally glanced over his shoulder to see the nest of vampires filling the sewer tunnels all around them.All in vamp face,they started to snarl,yellow eyes glowing like pen lights in the darkness.
Vampires were,as a rule,dead easy to control-no pun intended.But he wasn't even controlling them;he just basically asked if they wanted to kill something.
It was surprising how many vampires said 'yes' to an open proposition like that.
They were actually three seperate nests of vampires,using the tunnels as a method of transport,but they had been easy for him to find,and easy to draw in.And while Frenik demon blood was as unappetizing to vampires as Belial blood,nearly every demon got a visceral kick out of killing a smug Frenik demon.
And vampires,too,were immune to bullets.He bet Krukval and his boys were kicking themselves for not bringing any wood along.
Krukval snapped back around,gun aimed at his head."Call them off!"He demanded,unaware Bob had moved until Bob slammed an elbow in his face and grabbed his gun arm and twisted it until Krukval's wrist snapped as loudly as a tree branch.
He screamed,gun dropping to the concrete floor as the vampires attacked Krukval's men,and then the sewer seemed to ring with the peals of screams,snarls,curses,and pointless gunshots as the two groups of demons engaged each other in what would surely be a battle to the death.
Bob knew Freniks were among the strongest demons-and hell,he'd just died what,a few minutes ago?-so he wasn't surprised that,even with a broken wrist,the bastard Krukval elbowed him so hard in the face he was thrown almost five feet,slamming up against a concrete wall hard enough to send an electric jolt of pain down his spine as he sank to the floor of the sewer.
Krukval briefly looked around for the gun,but it had been lost in the creeping dimness and general scrum of brawling bodies (a bald headed female vampire-a former club kid,he assumed-had just broken the neck of one of Kruk's men,so the tally so far was Vamps-1,Freniks-0),so he simply stalked towards Bob,shoving aside any vamp who got in his way."You're paying for that,Belial-even if I have to bring you to them in pieces,"he snarled,black,swampy smelling blood dribbling from his flat,stereo slits of a nose.
"Oh yeah?"Bob replied,sliding his feet across the floor as he brought his knees towards his chest,and sneaked a hand inside his boot.He felt the hasp of the knife,almost glowing with warmth in spite of the leather strips he added to the handle to protect his hand.He rested his fingers on it lightly,pretending to catch his breath as Krukval continued stalking towards him like a panther on the prowl.
"Oh yeah,"Krukval repeated,in a strange voice.It took Bob a moment to realize he was trying to mimic his accent."Are you gonna get up,dickwad,or do I kick your fucking face in?"
"I'm going to pick door number three,"Bob told him.As soon as he was in range,Bob,in a single smooth motion,lunged to his feet,pulled the blessed knife out of the sheath,and buried it deep in Krukval's gut.
Krukval made a sort of gasping wheeze,like a balloon deflating,and Bob gave him a grim,humorless smile as he glared up into his face."So where should I send your pieces,Kruk?" Bob watched the light fade from Krukval's eyes before he yanked the knife out and let the green skinned Frenik collapse to the ground like the sack of garbage he was.
Freniks normally could be killed by decapitation,broken necks,and something copper,but this knife could kill anything.Which was why it was so valuable.
He watched the skirmish for a while-it didn't last long-and he sent out a subtle 'no edible blood' message that made him essentially invisible to the vampires.If they noticed him anyways,it wasn't for long.
Finally there was only one Frenik left,a copper skinned one with a build like a tank-squat and broad across the shoulders and torso-leaking black blood from several gashes on his face and neck,which had pretty much ruined his pale blue Arrow shirt.
Bob scattered the vampires by saying,"Sunlight."It was irrational-how could sunlight get underground,and at midnight,no less-but it was an atavistic fear that bypassed the logic circuits and hit straight in the primitive brain:they would react now,and think about it later.
The lone Frenik was left staring after them in bewilderment,shaky on his feet,standing among the bodies of his fallen comrades.
Bob walked up to him and kicked his legs out from under him,sending the Frenik sprawling on his back.Bob straddled him,dropping to his knees over the Frenik and pinning the demon's arms down to the floor.The Frenik looked up at him,and the black blood slicked knife,before laughing contemptuously.
"Should have let the vamps have me,Belial;that ain't gonna do nothin' to me."
"Are you sure?"Bob asked.He held the Frenik's head down with one hand (it would have been so much easier if these type of demons had hair),and lowered the knife until the side of the blade touched the merc's left cheek.
The Frenik screamed in pain as his skin sizzled and burned,accompanied by a rank scent like flaming leather,and Bob,figuring he had enough for now,lifted the knife away,but kept it hovering low over his face.
"What the fuck is that?!"The Frenik demanded,his snake like crimson eyes bulging out in pain and fear.
"Something I'm going to flay you alive with if you don't shut the fuck up and do exactly what I say,"he told him coldly."Listening?"
Eyes still glued to the knife,the Frenik nodded as best he could.
"Fine.I want to get out of this alive-I ain't going to die on behalf of a bunch of mewling Humans.So tell your bosses I want to make a deal;I want a piece of the action,and in exchange,I'll give them Angel and his 'Super Friends' on a fucking silver platter.Tell them to call my cell-I know their phones work-and we'll bargain,but they'd better make it fast,'cause I know the shit is going down soon.Maximum Bob does not end up on the losing side of anything.Got it?"
"Got it,"the Frenik agreed eagerly.
Bob got up and stepped aside,knife held at the ready."Get moving,"he ordered.
The Frenik got up warily,never taking his eyes off the knife as he stumbled away,over the bodies of his friends,until he reached the end of the tunnel.Then he ran for it.
Bob listened to his footsteps echo and recede until they were gone,and for some reason Bob suddenly thought of that old movie 'The Third Man'.Hollywood versions of sewers always looked so much nicer than the waste streaked really thing.
He bent down and used the Armani jacket of the nearest dead Frenik to wipe the blood off his knife,then set off to put the second part of his plan in motion.
Lindsey knew this was all bullshit,but he kept his mouth shut as Nathan laid out his grand plan.
Sitting at the table in the conference room for this hastily called 'emergency meeting' were himself,Leo Maguire (Nathan Reed's latest 'executive assistant'),Caliban,his bizarre demon 'familiar'(whose name was unpronouncable,but Caliban referred to him as 'Tom',in some spasm of absurdist humor),and Nathan Reed himself.Although,to be perfectly accurate,'Tom' was standing in the corner closest to Caliban,lurking in the shadows like a bad reputation,and Nathan was standing at the head of the table,looking as avuncular as a college lecturer as Lilah-and Bellara-joined them on speaker phone.
Before bringing the great bitch (and Bellara) into this,there was a brief discussion of strategy,as Bellara was not bound to be pleased.
Of all the mercs sent to retrieve Bob for Bellara,only one came back alive,and he had an interesting message from Bob.
Lindsey didn't trust that fucker for a second;hadn't he just walked through Wolfram and Hart hours ago,like he owned the goddamn place?And,for that brief span off time,he did:he owned everything and everyone in it.Including him.
He only knew this thanks to security camera footage;he had no memory of talking or even meeting Bob,but then again,he wouldn't.His last memory was leaving for a lunch appointment,but then he woke up at his desk about twenty minutes later,wondering when he had nodded off,and why would he dream about something as mundane as leaving his office for a luncheon meeting? When he found out Bob had 'invaded' the building (with back up from,of all people,Angel-the security cameras on the lower levels had been screwed up,but security guards identified him),probably after information about what had happened to his stolen stone,it made a lot of sense.It also explained the curious note he found on his desk after he woke up.
Maybe Bob's mental trespass was what got him dumped from the Marla/Bellara case,and,if so,he owed Bob a fruit basket-that thing creeped him out royal.The fact that she'd adopted Dru as some sort of 'pet' only confirmed Marla/Bellara's basic mental instability.
Nathan-and Caliban,for that matter-had not been surprised by the message the merc brought back:apparently,they assumed Bob would switch sides as soon as he realized how deep the odds were stacked against him.
After all,he was a Belial.That's what they did.
But,if Belials were basically untrustworthy-and they were,in his experience-how could they trust him now?
Bob had a history of antipathy for Wolfram and Hart:apparently,before he came to work for the firm,two agents of the firm,Sanders and Boynton,approached Bob,as the general consensus was he'd make a great 'independant contractor' for Wolfram and Hart.According to the file on the case,they remembered him greeting them warmly and shaking their hands-and then they work several hours later in their car,stripped to their underwear and mysteriously clad in fishnet stockings,with a note taped to the rearview mirror.The note,still in the file,and written on a bar napkin,said:'Next time,you won't wake up in your own car.'
As threats went,that was terribly vague,but also extremely creative,and no one from the firm ever approached Bob again (and to this day,Sanders and Boynton were teased by the others with fishnet stockings appearing in their drawers,briefcases,'get well' bouquets,etc.).He was classified as 'mostly harmless',though,because his work in the underground-the buying and selling of weapons and artifacts-helped them more often than hurt them,and if they used third party buyers,who had no knowledge of who they were actually working for,they could often take advantage of his services.
His teaming up with Angel was bizarre.They weren't exactly on the same side,were they?Angel was on his self-righteous "mission",and Bob was a raw boned capitalist,with no mission other than to make a ton of money and consolidate his power in the black market (by all accounts,he had completed his 'mission' quite well,unlike Angel).But they must have pissed Bob off more than they realized,or he was more desperate than they realized,but it was a partnership doomed to failure.
Still,Reed wasn't concerned about it,even if Bob's switch was just some angle he was playing,and even in the face of Bellara's rage."I want him,"Bellara's flat,enraged voice demanded over the speaker set up in front of an empty chair at the end of the table (always a nice touch).
She was obviously not placated by more 'toys':after the mysterious disruption of channel seven's transmission towers (Bob had to be responsible for that-no one could imagine Angel doing it),they had to scramble to splice Bellara into another network's prime time broadcast just to keep her from hitting the ceiling.They managed to do it,and Bellara had several thousand other 'playthings' to keep her busy.And it was getting bad out there:the last time he looked,it looked like Hell-literally.People continued to kill each other mindlessly,destroy property,and mill around in hollow eyed packs,like rabid dogs looking for something weak to tear apart.
They were safe here,of course-one of the perks of working for Wolfram and Hart was you were always safe from any apocalypse-but just seeing the burning bodies and flaming buildings made something in his gut twist itself into knots.
No,he knew none of these people,and probably never would have;and,if he ever did encounter them on the streets under normal circumstances,he'd find them forgettable at best or truly aggravating at worst.He might even wish some of them dead.
But they were dying out there in droves;in dozens,in hundreds,and he knew it could only get worse.He had no idea what Reed was playing to bring through the new Hellmouth,although he suspected it was the senior most of the partners,but he knew it too would kill even more once it had crossed over.
He was sure Bellara would be uncontrollable once the Hellmouth was open and her part in it all was done,but Reed had confided in him that he shouldn't worry,because what they were bringing to Earth was 'far more powerful than Bellara could ever be'.And he knew Reed meant that to be reassuring,but it wasn't-far from it.
"You'll get him,"Reed assured Bellara,in his most placating tone of voice."We'll use him to bring Angel to us-a worthy first meal for our 'friend',I think-and then Bob is all yours.Do with him what you will."
There was a long silence,broken only by a surussus of static on a line that should never have been functioning at all,and then Lindsey though he heard her laughing,a sound that seemed to make his skin crawl and his testicles shrivel up,like they were trying to hide inside of him.
God,she was insane.Insane and too fucking powerful by half.They were just lucky she had not turned on them.
It was honestly a suitable punishment for Bob-the traitor being betrayed;the screwer getting screwed.A Belial getting...well,out Belial-ed.
There were smiles all around the table as Bellara seemed to accept the proposal,and Lindsey forced one out too,but he actually felt mildly ill.
God damn him,but maybe some small part of him wanted Angel to stop this before more people died.But he didn't have a chance in hell,did he?Especially with Bob becoming a turncoat to save his own worthless neck.If Angel survived-which was highly doubtful at this point-maybe it would teach him to pick better allies next time.But there never would be a next time.This was end game,and Wolfram and Hart were winning.
Lindsey felt the piece of paper in his coat pocket,and distantly wondered if things were not as bad as he thought.Maybe they had underestimated Bob and even Angel-it wouldn't be the first time. The paper was the strange note he found on his desk after he 'woke up'.He'd told no one about it,and had carried it around with him all day,looking at it maybe once every hour.
In Bob's angular,hasty scrawl,it simply said:"If you hate it here so much,why do you stay?"
And Lindsey still couldn't answer that question.
Until this moment,Angel had no idea a vampire could get a numb butt. He got up,trying to walk it off under the guise of putting the book he had been scanning back on the shelf and getting a new one,while Wesley,still slouched over the front desk like he was going to collapse into sleep right on top of his book,said,"If we knew where the ritual was going to take place,we could consecrate the ground."
"How?"Gunn asked,stifling a yawn.He and Cordy were both propped up shoulder to shoulder on the couch,occasionally elbowing each other to make sure they were still conscious.
"Don't we need a priest or something for that?"Cordy asked.In spite of all she had been through,she looked more awake than all of them.
Wesley shook his head."Holy water,a Latin invocation should do it."
"But that won't prevent the ritual from taking place there,"Angel pointed out,feeling like a spoil sport-this had been the best suggestion in over an hour."It just means they'll have to spill twice as much as blood to open the Hellmouth." Wes made a disappointed noise,acknowledging the validity of that as he turned back to his book.
"What about some kind of spell?"Gunn wondered,looking between them."Something that repels Hellmouths or something?"
"No spell I could cast could hold up to Caliban,"Wesley pointed out,sounding doubly disappointed."I'm not a warlock."
"Hey,what if we called Willow,"Cordy interjected brightly."I bet she could handle him."
"I'm not so sure about that;he's very powerful,"Wesley replied,hedging a bit.
"I wonder how much of his power comes from the Sri-thal,"Angel said,thinking aloud as he scanned the titles printed on the spines of the books.He had all but come to the conclusion they would never find what they needed here.
"You think he's enhancing his power through a union with the demon?"From the tone of his voice,Wesley was considering that."It's possible.He wouldn't be the first practitioner of black magic to take such a short cut."
"So we kill the demon,we can handle him?"Gunn sounded hopeful for the first time tonight.
"Possibly,"Wesley said,back to sounding doubtful again.It pained him,by the sound of it,to be the downer."But we have to assume he's still a reasonably strong warlock on his own."
"Again-Willow,"Cordy reiterated.
"We're not even sure she'll have the time to get up here,"Angel told her,turning back to face them with a sigh."The city can't last very long with so many people in the state they are now.People will get suspicious at the very least,assuming they survive that long;Wolfram and Hart had to be counting on a limited time frame.Besides,Bob said Bellara would burn them out after a while-they'll have to act before she destroys their sacrifices."
"So it could be going down right now,while we sit on our asses looking at books?"Gunn asked,impatience flaring in his dark brown eyes.
Angel could only shrug.It very well could be,but what was their other option?To roam very dangerous streets looking for a place of sacrifice?There were so many random killings happening now,it would be hard to find the exact right spot.
Wait a minute:random killings?What did that trigger in his mind? "Hey,aren't we supposed to be letting the dogs out now?"Cordy said,and at everyone's uncomprehending looks,she pointed at the clock on the wall."It's almost fifteen after one.Bob was supposed to be back by now."
"Even if we had dogs,where would we send them?"Gunn asked."He didn't say where he was going."
Cordy could only shrug:no,no one knew where Bob was.He was on his own.
After a moment of silence,Cordy said,"Maybe Bob knows a witch-he seems to know everyone."
Speak of the devil-it was just then Angel heard the basement door shut.
"Well,if I don't know,I know who's blackmailin' 'em,"Bob said breezily,walking into the lobby.He gave them all a big shit eating grin,like he thought he was being funny.
Cordelia smiled back at him-oh no,she didn't actually like him now,did she?-then wrinkled her nose is disgust."Eeew-what's that smell?"
Gunn frowned too."Yeah,what crawled on you and died?"
Angel could smell it too:it was swampy and fetid,redolent of fermented meat and bile,and very familiar."Frenik demon blood,"he told them,giving Bob a curious look.
"Was there a problem?"Wes asked him.
Bob shook his head nonchalantly,shrugging off his coat."No-I came on a pretty ugly scene in the sewer-a group of vampire Sharks had a disagreement with some Frenik Jets-and let's just say the Jets ain't flying no more."He peeled off his smelly t-shirt and tossed it towards the garbage can."Got a shirt I can borrow,Liam?Frenik blood stink is hell to get out.I mean,I'm sure it'll be too small for me,but I don't have time to run home."
"What do you mean it'll be too small for you?"Angel replied testily,crossing his arms over his chest.
"Wow,"Cordy said,openly gawking at Bob's bare chest."You really do work out,don't you?"
"I'm three hundred years old-I have lots of time to kill,"he told her,and then struck a classic 'muscle man' pose for her,raising his arms and flexing his muscles.She sat back and gave him a warm smile,clearly enjoying the show.
If just to put the nauseating spectacle to an end,Angel said,"Yeah,go ahead-you can borrow a shirt.But not one of my good ones."
"Is that the black one,or other black one?"Bob wondered,throwing another pose that made him look like he was about to toss a discus.
Gunn laughed.
Angel glowered at the smart ass,but Bob just threw him a wink,obviously thinking he was being clever.
"Why don't you have time to run home?"Wesley asked,sticking to the pertinent point.
Bob stopped his mock posing-although Cordy did not cease her ogling-and said,"'Cause I got a friend dropping by,but we gotta be gone,Angel,because if she knew she were helping you,the deal would be off.She's a spellcaster from Laguna Beach-I told her the hotel was yours,Wes.You she'll meet,'cause she thinks you're a business associate of mine from England."
"Where exactly are we suppose to go?"Angel wondered pointedly.He still didn't trust Bob,and he really didn't like the presumptuous way he threw around orders.
And that's when Cordy cried out.
She spasmed back against the couch as if caught in the throes of a seizure,grabbing her own head,eyes screwed tightly shut,and she made an agonized noise before shouting,"No!"
Before Angel could reach her,Bob was there,and suddenly he reached out and put his hands over hers,on the side of her head,and closed his own eyes."It's okay,Cordy-distance,no pain,"he told her quietly.
Angel was tempted to rip his arms away-hadn't he had his hands on Cordy enough?-but Cordy slipped one of her hands out from beneath his and rested it on Bob's arm in what appeared to be a reassuring gesture,and she seemed to breathe a little easier and relax,although tears continued flowing freely down her cheeks. She opened her eyes before Bob did,and unlike most times when she had a vision,she seemed to be only in emotional pain instead of physical agony."Oh god,it's started,"she told them,blinking tears from her eyes as Bob finally opened his eyes.She gave him a grateful if sad smile,and Bob returned it:Angel did not like the subtext he sensed passing between them.He hoped Cordy was smart enough to never get involved with a con artist like Bob,no matter how good he looked with his shirt off.
"What's started?"Wesley asked,even though Angel was pretty sure they all knew.
"The sacrifices,"Bob said,finally taking his hands off Cordy.Had he shared her vision?Could he?"Groups of people are slaughtering each other at a vacant lot about two blocks west of the Wolfram and Hart building."
"And guess who's watching?"Cordelia added ominously.
"Come on,let's roll,"Gunn said impatiently,hopping up to his feet.
"And do what when we get there?"Wesley asked,sounding frustrated."We have nothing.And if we go in there without a plan,Bellara will enslave us as easily as she has everyone else."
"We won't look her in the eyes,"Gunn said.
"Not enough,"Wesley replied tersely.
"Besides,Caliban is there too,"Angel added,wondering what they could do.Was finding a surface to surface missile out of the question?
"Leave Caliban to me,"Bob said confidently."Warlock or not,he can't fight me.And the spellcaster-Alia-is going to help us with Bellara.I've told her what we needed,but maybe you can think up something better,Wes-I'm knew at the spell thing."Bob turned and headed towards the lobby stairs,obviously intending to get a shirt on before they left.
"What did you tell her we needed?"Wesley asked,before Angel could.
"A mental disruption spell;I thought if we scattered Bellara's attention,she'd lose her grip on most people,and leave herself vulnerable to a physical attack."
Wesley considered that,with an uncertain tilt to his head."It might work..."
"It was the best thing I could think of,"Bob admitted with a shrug,as he darted up the stairs.He stopped at the top,and looked back down at them all."Come on,let's cowboy up-we have a Hellmouth to stop."
Angel moved hesitantly to the weapons cabinet.Why could he not shake the persistent bad feeling he had about all of this?
Maybe it was nothing more than the bad feeling he had about Bob.
