The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco
(Warehouse Basement – Night)
(A security guard makes his rounds at night through the basement of an old warehouse. He goes into a fenced area labeled "Keep Out" and shines his flashlight around, when he hears a noise. He walks down the stairs to investigate.)
Guard: (to his CB radio) This is Henderson. South side basement door's open. I'm gonna check it out.
Guard2: (on CB) OK, copy that.
(The guard continues down the stairs, when he's surprised by another man who steps around the corner.)
Guard: Whoa! Jeez, Carlos. Thanks for the heart attack.
Carlos: Right back at ya. Had to swap out that septic pipe.
Guard: Mmm…well, on behalf of a grateful nation... (As Carlos leaves the guard talks into his CB radio.) Henderson here. Mystery solved.
Guard2: (on CB) What happened?
Guard: Found a crazed plumber. (Something attacks Carlos just out of sight of the guard, who runs up the stairs to investigate.) Halt! (Whatever attacked Carlos swats the guard's flashlight from his hand, scratching his face and ultimately knocking him to the ground. The guard backs up on his elbows, begging for his life.) No! Don't! (something slashes him in the torso) Aaaah!
(Wolfram & Hart – Hallway)
(The mailman pushes his cart down the hallway. He's wearing a face mask painted red, white, and blue, and sporting the number "5" on it. He delivers the mail to various personnel and continues on his way until he runs into Lorne, who stops him to chat. Lorne's holding two greeting cards in his hands.)
Lorne: OK, um, professional opinion? Uh...sexy soccer mama or brainy beauty? (the mailman just stares) You're an aging sexpot celebrating a decade of turning 29. You got 2 little rugrats that aren't that little, a husband who thinks the extras trailer is a buffet table, and gravity ain't doing you any favors. (holds out the two greeting cards) So "Happy Birthday, Sexy Mama" or... (sees Fred walk down the hallway toward them) Fred. Hey, Fred, sweetie, you're sorta like a woman.
Fred: (frowns) Oh, that's... not a compliment.
Lorne: Well, I mean, more so than El Cid here. (the mailman rolls his eyes) I need some insight. You're an aging—
Fred: I heard. Don't send a card, don't mention her birthday, send a big bunch of flowers just because she's special and perfect and eternally blah-di-blah.
Lorne: Huh! Staring me right in the face. Genius.
Fred: (smirks) And I'm a lot like a woman.
Lorne: Oh, you're all woman. You're every woman. You're Wonder Woman!
Fred: Damn straight.
(Angel’s Office)
(Angel signs his name on a contract with a fancy pen, when he notices the deep red color of the ink.)
Angel: Is that blood?
Gunn: Yeah, but it's OK. It's yours.
Angel: Huh. (continues signing) And how is that OK?
Gunn: (takes signed contracts from Angel) Demon law requires blood signatures on all legal documents. Your Herbie Hancock here locks and loads these docs. Then I take 'em into court and fire away.
Angel: Locks and loads. Got it.
Gunn: As C.E.O. and president of Wolfram & Hart, you just bankrupted a company that dumps raw demon waste into Santa Monica bay, banished a clan of pyro warlocks into a hell dimension, and started a foster care program for kids whose parents have been killed by vampires. (stacks the papers) Not bad for a day's pay.
Angel: (unenthused) Yeah. Great.
Gunn: Look, I know legal weasels and business deals aren't as heroic to you as rescuing young honeys from tumescent trolls, but I love what we do.
Angel: Tumescent...trolls?
Gunn: Went a little Johnnie Cochran on ya. You know, for the first time in my life, I can't wait to get to work in the morning. You've always had your special powers. Now I have mine.
Spike: (sitting on the end of the conference table) Isn't that special! We all have special powers. Anybody wanna trade? I'll swap ya two-for-one. Walking through walls, picking up mugs... (picks up a mug) in exchange for... I don't know, how about me not being dead?
Angel: How about you not being here?
Spike: If wishes were horses...
(Angel stands, looks out the window.)
Gunn: You OK?
Angel: Yeah. Fine. Like you said, not bad for a day's pay.
Gunn: I know you hate working here, what with the bureaucracy and the fact that most of our employees want us dead. But in-house attacks are down 30% this week. And we've done more good here in a month than Angel investigations did in a year.
Angel: I know, I'm just... I don't know, just feeling a bit...
Spike: Squishy?
Angel: Disconnected.
Spike: Are you serious? Here you are, finally living a piece of the high life—new clothes, new cars, my old tumble fetching you tasty snacks—and what's your gripe? "I feel disconnected." You want to feel disconnected, try being a bloody ghost for a bit. Try bobbin' around with no touch or taste or smell. Not many fates worse than that, I'd wager. (the masked mailman walks into the office pushing his mail cart) OK, maybe that.
Gunn: I know what you're saying about the disconnect. Much as I love the legalese, gotta admit, I miss mixing it up sometimes, you know? I miss getting my hands dirty.
Wesley: (walks in with a report) Then you'll be interested in this. 3 people found with their hearts cut out in East Los Angeles, all within the last couple of hours. (the masked mailman stops, looks up, listening) The police are on it, but my sense is it's more demonic than some murderous nut job. (the masked mailman pushes his cart out of the room)
Spike: So we're ruling out demonic nut jobs, then, are we?
Gunn: We should check it out.
Angel: Right.
Gunn: (to the mailman) Yo! You missed one.
Angel: I'll get it. (He takes the envelope from Gunn and goes after the mailman.) Wait! Wait. (Sighs) Hold up for a second. (Angel touches the mailman on the arm, but the mailman throws Angel through his office window, smashing it to pieces. The mailman continues pushing his cart as Angel sits up.) Ow!
Wesley: (goes to Angel, along with Gunn and Spike) What happened?
Angel: The mail guy threw me.
Gunn: What?!
Spike: Number 5?! (smiles) He did this? Isn't he like 100 years old?
Angel: Kinda hard to tell with the mask.
Gunn: (to his cell phone) Angel was attacked. Lock it down. No. One of ours. The mail guy, number 5.
Wesley: (to Angel) Why did he attack you?
Angel: I was trying to give him the mail?
Gunn: Security's on it. We'll find him.
Angel: Look, this is just a thing. Maybe I, you know, startled him or something.
Gunn: I'm not taking any chances. This is Wolfram & Hart. You have enemies everywhere.
(Fred walks up to the office, noticing the broken glass.)
Spike: Hey! Fred! Did ya hear? Angel attacked the old mail guy.
Angel: What?!
Fred: (shocked) Not number 5? You didn't hurt him?
Angel: No. I— He attacked me.
Wesley: We should find him.
Spike: Absolutely. Wanna buy him a pint. Bloody made my day.
Gunn: (cell phone rings) Gunn. Good. Great. (to Angel) Security found him. They're escorting him off the premises. You do wanna fire his masked ass, don't you?
Angel: Um, I don't...
Wesley: I think it's best.
Angel: Look, really, I'm fine. Let's just get back to the bod—
Lorne: (walks into the office) Holy tornado! It's true!
Spike: Yeah. It was amazing. Angel went right off on the mail guy.
Lorne: Oh, this must've been one major smackdown.
Angel: There was no smacking.
Lorne: That's not the hubbub I'm hearing, honeybuns. Word on the web has you sucker-punching Grandpa Moses.
Angel: The web?
Lorne: Don't sweat it, sweetie pie. I've got my flak catcher spinning this into P.R. gold. Once the word spreads you beat up an innocent old man, well, the truly terrible will think twice before going toe-to-toe with our avenging Angel.
Spike: Yes. The geriatric community will be soiling their nappies when they hear you're on the case. (signals thumbs-up) Bravo.
Angel: I didn't beat anybody up, OK? So let's just focus on what's important, like Wes' bodies.
Fred: Wesley has bodies?
Gunn: Someone found 3 bodies.
Wesley: 4. Another one was just found in a church after an All Souls' mass.
Angel: All souls?
Wesley: Prayers for the departed.
Spike: You should know that, being departed and all.
Wesley: Tonight was a special service. It's the Mexican day of the dead.
(Angel’s Red Convertible – Night)
(Angel is driving a red convertible classic car down the damp streets of Los Angeles, with Spike seated in the front seat beside Angel. Gunn and Wesley are in the back seat.)
Gunn: Still not sure why blondie ghost tagged along.
Spike: Not much choice really, is there? Can't drink, smoke, diddle my willy. Doesn't leave much to do other than watch you blokes stumble around playing Agatha Christie.
Wesley: Yeah, remind me again how you ended up in the front seat.
Spike: (grins smugly) Called shotgun, mate.
Wesley: (looks at his shotgun) Oh. I thought we were doing a weapons check.
Gunn: (looks at his axe) Nothin' wrong with that. We may need these bad boys if we're going up against some Mexican day of the dead heart-suckin' monster.
Wesley: Angel, the church we're looking for is about half a mile—
(Angel swerves the car off to the side of the road, stopping it with a screech near the entrance of an alley that's been decorated with dolls.)
Spike: Always was a bit of a drama queen.
(Alley)
(Spike, Wesley, and Gunn follow Angel. Angel stops at the site of a body.)
Spike: (Sighs, looking at the body) Too late.
Gunn: So you what, heard his scream?
(Angel walks away in disgust. Wesley inspects the body, which has a gaping bloody hole in the middle of the chest.)
Spike: He smelled the blood. Nothing grabs a vamp's attention like the ruby red.
Gunn: Notice no matter how uptown we go, we always wind up in some stanky hole in the middle of the night?
Wesley: Angel! His heart's missing. Looks like it was cut out with some sort of crude knife. And based on these blood spatters, I'd say it was still beating when it was removed.
Angel: The blood's fresh. This just happened.
Wesley: So whatever did this might still be close.
Gunn: How close?
Spike: (looking behind the others, who are all busy staring at the body) I'd say 10, 11 feet.
(The gang is face-to-face with a snarling demon dressed in some sort of armor, complete with plumed helmet. The demon has lots of pointed teeth and wrinkly yellowish-gray skin. The demon is armed with a sword, and Angel engages it using his sword to block its swings. Wesley grabs his shotgun, Gunn has his axe, and Spike looks around for a weapon of his own. The demon overpowers Angel and throws him into a pile of boxes across the room. Wesley points the shotgun at the demon and pulls the trigger, but the shots don't stop the demon. Three rounds later, the demon punches Wesley, sending him across the room as well. Gunn swings his axe into the back of the demon, who shrieks.)
Gunn: How you like that, sparky? (the demon turns toward Gunn and snarls) OK, so next time, I hold onto the axe.
(The demon swings punches at Gunn, who backs up.)
Spike: Not that way, you git! (sees a nearby 2"x4" plank of wood) Now focus. (reaches for the plank and swings at the demon—realizes he's empty-handed) Bloody useless!
(Angel gets up and walks toward the demon, who pushes a dumpster at Angel and runs away.)
(Wolfram & Hart – Science Lab)
(Fred inspects the blade of Gunn's axe under a magnifying glass.)
Gunn: We shot it, chopped it, hacked and whacked it. The only souvenir we got was the gunk on this blade. Thought you might do some tests.
Fred: Sure. Maybe hematological... cellular RH enzymes... obviously a full SMA-20.
Gunn: Obviously. Give me a shout when you know something, OK?
Fred: (looks at a sample on a microscope slide) Hmm. Demonoid entropy patterning couldn't hurt. (Spike apparates in the lab) If you're trying to find out what this thing's made of, it's gonna take a while.
Spike: Couldn't care less. I'm just trying to put as much distance between myself and general grumpypants as my ghost leash allows.
Fred: He just gets like that sometimes. Not easy being a champion. You know that.
Spike: Really don't.
Fred: Come on. You saved the world, sacrificed yourself, closed a Hellmouth.
Spike: Didn't do much, really. I just stood there... let the fire come. Nothin' real heroic about that.
Fred: Well, you did save my life.
Spike: Well, when you say it like that...
(Fred smiles.)
(Wesley’s Office)
(Wesley's working in his office with a female assistant who's using the computer.)
Wesley: Cross-reference the weapons list against both Aztec and Incan artifacts.
Man: (hands Wesley an envelope) Sir.
Wesley: (looking over the shoulder of his assistant) Uh, less reptilian, and the mouth was larger. Think predatory bird meets demonic gladiator. (whispering to a book) Xiochimayan Codex. (opens the book, and text appears on the pages)
Angel: (walks in) How we doin'?
Wesley: Based on the creature's appearance and weaponry, I'm focusing my team on prehispanic texts. Specifically mesoamerican.
Angel: Good.
Wesley: We're not there yet, but I'm confident.
Angel: Yeah, I can see that. You'll find it. Then we'll figure out a way to stop it. Then—then I'll...stop it, 'cause that's what we do. (Wesley looks at Angel; Angel shrugs.) I'll be in my office. (leaves)
Wesley: (over his shoulder) I wasn't aware that you could read Cuauhtitlan pictograms.
Spike: (pan over to show Spike standing behind Wesley) Who, me? Nah, I was just... is this one of those books on prophecies?
Wesley: No, it's a source book. Each one ties into a discipline within the Wolfram & Hart archives. This one is linked to historical narratives. (points to another book lying on a table) That's the one dedicated to prophecies.
Spike: (walks over to the book table) So...you could look up that, uh... sans shoes thingamabob. You know, the prophecy that says that Angel gets to be a real boy again.
Wesley: Shanshu prophecy, yes. Uh, though it's a bit more complicated than that.
Spike: Complicated.
Wesley: It tells of an epic, apocalyptic battle and a vampire with a soul who plays a major role in that battle. And there's the suggestion that the vampire will get to live again.
Spike: When you say, "plays a major role in an apocalyptic battle," you mean like, um... (trying to be casual) heroically closing a Hellmouth that was about to destroy the world?
Wesley: The text isn't specific about the battle.
Spike: But it's specific about the name of the vampire with a soul.
Wesley: No, I imagine it could be any vampire with a soul... (looks at Spike) ...who isn't a ghost.
Spike: (scoffs) It's a bunch of nonsense. It's a bedtime story to get vampires to play nice.
Wesley: (looks back at his book) Says you.
Spike: No, says Angel. (Wesley looks up) Yeah. Tall-dark-and-dreary told me he doesn't believe in that Shanshu bugaboo. Says it's a sucker's game.
Woman: Sir!
(Spike runs his hand over the prophecy book.)
Wesley: (goes to the assistant, looks at her monitor) That's it. Good. Print it out.
(Angel’s Office)
(Wesley hands a file to Angel. Spike is sitting on a chair nearby.)
Wesley: It's an Aztec demon named Tezcatcatl. We don't know a lot about it yet. Our codex is missing several key pictographs. What we do know is that it's been here before—50 years ago to the day.
Angel: The day of the dead.
Wesley: Yes, though that may be a coincidence. I'll know better once we determine why it's here in L.A. or what it wants. Wolfram & Hart has a brief record of what happened. According to this, Tezcatcatl rose in the same place, East Los Angeles, killed over a dozen people before it was finally defeated.
Angel: Defeated?
Wesley: Yes, by 5 heroes. Brothers. They were the champions of that time.
Angel: They destroyed the demon?
Wesley: Yes, but at quite a price. The brothers were all killed. All but one.
Spike: Not to be captain obvious, but... either the brothers didn't really finish the demon off, or it's figured out a way to come back from wherever they sent it. Either way, best of luck, mate.
Angel: You said one of the brothers survived. Is he still alive?
Wesley: Yes.
Angel: OK then, I'll talk to him. I'm sure he'll want to help. Do we have his number?
Wesley: As a matter of fact, we do.
(Apartment Building)
(Angel knocks on the door of apartment number 8, and the masked mailman answers, still wearing his red, white, and blue mask with the number "5" printed on the forehead.)
Angel: Hi. (the mailman picks up Angel by the lapels and throws his back against the wall) Unh! Stop doing that.
Number 5: Perhaps I wasn't clear in our last conversation.
Angel: (pushes the mailman away, and pushes him against the wall) What conversation? You threw me through a window.
Number 5: I heard you speaking. You were going to drag me into your quest for the Aztec demon.
Angel: No, I wasn't. I was gonna give you some mail.
Number 5: Oh. Sorry.
Angel: Now I'm dragging you back in. (throws Number 5 across the room; he stands back up) I need your help. You and your brothers beat this Aztec warrior thing first time around. And I need to know how.
Number 5: (holds his arms out) I'm sorry. In case you haven't noticed, I have retired from that life.
Angel: Wearing that mask doesn't exactly hide your past.
Number 5: (crosses his arms) It reminds me that only a fool would want to be a champion.
Angel: Fool? Is that what you think of your brothers?
Number 5: (punches Angel) Never disrespect the memory of my brothers. They were honorable men... luchadores. Mexican wrestlers. The greatest that ever lived. Together we were known as Los Hermanos Numeros.
Angel: The number brothers? (notices a shrine of flowers, pictures, and candles in the corner) Huh. (picks up a black and white picture of the 5 brothers together, all with masks numbered 1 through 5) Boy, you guys had no problem getting past the whole irony thing now, did you?
Number 5: It was a different time. One that no longer exists.
(The Past)
(Wrestling Arena – Night)
(In a crowded arena, the 5 brothers are wearing wrestling gear (spandex leggings and boots) as well as their numbered masks. The masks are all different, each with unique colors and designs, but all displaying a number somewhere on the face.)
Crowd: !Andale, andale!
Number 2: (translation) Let's dance, milkmaid!
(Number 2 wrestles with his opponent, then holds his hands up victoriously. They fight again in what seems like a carefully orchestrated scene in which the other brothers, the referee and the opponent are thrown back and forth into the ropes of the wrestling ring.)
Number 5: (vo) We were great warriors in the ring, great heroes. Children worshipped us. Women loved us. Men wanted to be us.
Number 2: (translation) You ballerinas still wanna waltz?
(The brothers form a circle, hugging and high-fiveing each other in celebration.)
Number 5: (vo) In all the years we fought, we never lost. Never quit. Never compromised. We were the best. But not all of our battles were in the ring.
(A man in the audience stands and wields a shotgun, pointed at the brothers in the ring. Number 5 notices, and calls to the others.)
Number 5: !Hermanos!
(Two of the brothers put their hands together making a platform as a third steps on their hands, springing toward the man with the shotgun in a forward somersault.)
(The Present)
Number 5: You need to understand. We were more than just luchadores. No one else cared about Mexicans or Chicanos, so we protected our own. The five of us were always joined, always connected. And when necessary, we came together as a fist. We fought monsters and gangsters. Vampiros. We were heroes. We protected the weak... and we helped the helpless.
Angel: I know a little something about that.
Number 5: We spent every waking hour together.
(The Past)
(Mexican Bar – Night)
(Number 5 played cards with two of his brothers. A woman in red walked by, smiling at them. At the bar, another brother sits while a woman flirts with him. The woman in red walked back from the bar to the fifth brother, who lifted weights in the back of the bar. She kissed him on the cheek.)
Number 5: (vo) We fought hard. We played hard. Brothers in the truest sense. Never jealous, never bickering. Those were the happiest days of my life.
(The Present)
Angel: Wait a second. So you guys always wore your masks?
(The Past)
(Mexican Bar – Resume)
Number 5: (vo) What you are failing to see, my friend, is that we had to be ever-vigilant, ready for action at a moment's notice.
(The telephone rings, and Number 5 answers it.)
Number 5: Si. Si. !Hermanos! (the brothers stop in their tracks and look at Number 5) The devil has built a robot!
All: (stand, make fists) !Andale! (exit)
(The Present)
Number 5: Surely you have heard about our great victory over the devil's robot?
Angel: (shrugs) Sorry.
Number 5: Nobody remembers the good stuff. (stands, walks away)
Angel: But tell me about the Aztec warrior.
Number 5: (stops, has a flashback of the demon slaughtering people) What can I say about a demon who killed the people that mattered most to me?
Angel: You can start by saying how you killed it back.
Number 5: I don't know. Can't remember.
Angel: Can't remember or don't care?
Number 5: Do not misunderstand me. After my brothers were killed, I tried to carry on…
(The Past)
(Mexican Bar – Night)
(Number 5 is sitting alone at a table in the bar, drinking and smoking with a telephone beside him.)
Number 5: (vo) ...tried to help people. But after a while, the phone stopped ringing. The people went away... until one night when a man walked in. He said his company could use a young man with my abilities.
(A well-dressed man hands Number 5 a business card labeled "Wolfram and Hart, Attorneys at Law". It is a young Holland Manners.)
Angel: Wolfram & Hart.
(The Present)
Number 5: I needed a job. They needed muscle. I knew that Wolfram & Hart was everything my brothers despised. But what did I care? Nothing mattered after I buried them behind San Gregorio. Every year on El Dia de Los Muertos, I prepare this altar for them. And every year, they never come, never visit. Because I am not worthy. But it does not matter anymore. Not after this year. I should have died with my brothers.
(He touches a small gold medallion on the table with the photos and candles.)
Angel: But you didn't. You got stuck with the hard part, the carrying-on. No wonder your brothers' spirits never come to visit. Listen to yourself. You've quit. Tell me: Why'd you stop caring?
Number 5: It was not hard. I will show you.
(Wrestling Arena)
(Five midgets wearing colorful numbered masks fight in a wrestling ring against a full-sized man who chases them around the ring.)
Number 5: This is how my brothers are remembered, what their good deeds earned. They sacrificed their lives as heroes, and it is played out as a farce.
Angel: Maybe you expect too much from people.
Number 5: Is it too much to expect them to remember their past? To honor those that fought and died? My brothers are dead, and Tezcatcatl is back to kill again. Why did we bother? What difference did we make?
Angel: (watching the wrestlers) You made a difference in the lives you saved. And you did it because... it was the right thing to do. Nobody asks us to go out and fight, put our lives on the line. We do it because we can, 'cause we know how. We do it whether people remember us or not, in spite of the fact that there's no shiny reward at the end of the day... other than the work itself. I think some part of you still knows that, still believes in being a hero. (turns to face Number 5, but he's not there) Then again, maybe not.
(Wolfram & Hart – Wesley’s Office)
(Wesley and Gunn are reading through papers and books, researching.)
Wesley: I'd forgotten that Aztec culture was so violent.
Gunn: Yeah, 'cause our culture's so at peace.
Wesley: All right, but by and large, we don't eat our victims.
Gunn: You got that file on the lady from the all soul's mass?
Wesley: (stands, walks to another table) She's the most puzzling. The demon passed by over 20 people... so he could attack her. (hands the file to Gunn)
Gunn: I know. We need to find its M.O., so Angel can guess its next move. (reviews the files)
Wesley: Does Angel seem all right to you?
Gunn: Yeah. Still adjusting to corporate life, I guess. Bit of a disconnect.
Wesley: Disconnect?
Gunn: His word, not mine. But he's still doing his hero thing. Wait a minute. Didn't you say the homeless guy in the alley was a vet?
Wesley: Yeah. Gulf War.
Gunn: And something about a Bronze Star. Bronze Star, lady in the church worked with gangs, this dude, a fireman.
Wesley: Saved his crew in a fire. That's the thread, that's the M.O.?
Gunn: It's taking the hearts of heroes.
(Street)
(Angel walks out of the arena and looks for Number 5. A bus passes by, and Number 5 is sitting in a window seat where Angel notices him.)
Angel: So much for my stirring speech. (Sighs)
(The demon jumps up behind Angel and attacks him, pinning him to a car by driving his sword through Angel. The demon takes out a dagger, rears back, aiming for Angel's heart, then reconsiders. The demon takes back his sword and walks away, leaving Angel wounded on the hood of the car.)
(Wolfram & Hart – Lobby)
(Angel, Gunn, and Wesley walk off the elevator into the lobby.)
Angel: So you think this demon is eating the hearts of heroes, huh? Well, it's an interesting theory, and I can see where your research might seem to support that, but...your theory kinda fell apart in the field.
Wesley: Angel, I know you've been through a horrible ordeal, and I'm not trying to—
Angel: The reason why I know this Aztec demon is not eating the hearts of heroes is... he didn't take mine. Am I honestly supposed to believe that it had no problem sticking a sword in my stomach but then decided, "Oh, wait, his heart's not heroic enough"? Ha! I don't think so.
(They walk into Angel's office.)
Wesley: I understand you're feeling rejected. But this Aztec warrior... it wants the hearts for sustenance. It wants it for the meat, not the metaphor.
Angel: What are you saying?
Gunn: As meat goes, your heart's a dried-up hunk of gnarly-ass beef jerky.
Angel: Yeah, well, stick a piece of wood in it, and I still die. Must mean something. (Groans in pain)
Wesley: Can we get back to figuring out how to kill this demon rather than figuring out why it didn't kill you?
Gunn: OK, before ol' Numero Cinco bolted on the bus, did he drop any details about how he and his brothers defeated this Aztec thing?
Angel: Wes, did you ever hear that the devil built a robot?
Wesley: El Diablo Robotico. (nods) Why?
Angel: Nobody ever tells me anything.
Gunn: I'm gonna go check with my guys in contracts. (walks toward the door)
Wesley: Gunn, this should take precedence.
Gunn: Relax. It's warrior-related. I got to thinking, if this Aztec demon got back to come back after 50 years, maybe it made some kind of supernatural deal with something. And if there's a deal, might be a contract. (walks out)
Wesley: Angel, what Gunn said about your heart—the dried-up bit—I don't think that's the problem.
Angel: But you do see a problem?
Wesley: It's the work.
Angel: Oh, yeah. The 18-hour days, the constant slaying of evil, and the being shish-kebabed to a Chevy.
Wesley: I didn't say you weren't working. I'm just saying your heart's not in the work.
Angel: Well, yeah, you know, I've been feeling a little bit, uh... (stands, walks across the room)
Wesley: Disconnected. Yes, I've heard. But I think it's more serious than that. You blame your melancholy on your new position, but I don't think it's about the type of work. I think it's because you've lost hope that the work has meaning.
Angel: (flips through files) Of course it has meaning. We save people's lives.
Wesley: I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about you. It's lost meaning for you. Spike says you no longer believe in the Shanshu prophecy.
Angel: (Sighs, looks at Wes) Of course not. The prophecies are nonsense. You know that. Oh, come on, Wes, after everything we've seen the past couple of years? "The father will kill the son."
Wesley: What are you talking about?
Angel: Look, we're getting the work done. As long as I keep doing what I do, doesn't matter if I believe in the Shanshu or any other prophecy.
Wesley: I'm sorry, Angel, but nothing matters more. Hope: It's the only thing that will sustain you, that will keep you from ending up like Number 5.
Angel: (telephone rings, Angel answers) Yeah. (hangs up) It's Fred. She's got something.
(Science Lab)
(Angel looks at the results of Fred's tests on her computer screen. Spike and Wesley are there as well.)
Angel: So it's eating the hearts of heroes, and their blood is what keeps it alive.
Fred: Yeah, but it does more than that. It acts like a kind of supercharged rocket fuel. Makes it, you know...
Wesley: Nigh invulnerable.
Spike: Oh, I could kill it. I mean, ghostiness to the contrary. Well, come on, lads. Everything has an Achilles heel.
Angel: And you just so happen to know this creature's Achilles heel?
Spike: Well, I wager it's the heart.
Fred: (looks at her computer screen) You see that in the science?
Spike: No, luv, in the poetry. We're dealing with a mythic creature here, a kill-or-be-killed kind of creature. If I was gonna kill something that was trying to take my heart, I'd try to bloody well take its heart first.
Gunn: (walks into the room) And you'd be doing the right thing. That'd stop it for the time being.
Angel: Time being?
Gunn: Yeah. He's kinda got a get-out-of-jail-free card. It's in his contract.
Fred: Contract?
Gunn: Figure of speech. Curse, hex, any shady supernatural deal— Wolfram & Hart has a record of it. Tezcatcatl was one of the Aztecs' most powerful warriors. He forged a mystical talisman that would harness the power of their sun God, make him supernova powerful. But he got found out, was sentenced to die on the Aztec version of day of the dead.
Wesley: So he made a mystical deal.
Gunn: Yeah, it was pretty clever, really. He had their shaman put a curse on him to return from the dead every 50 years. Been doing it for centuries. Usually, that'd be a bad thing, but, in his case, it brings him back so he can keep searching for the talisman.
Fred: Any idea what happened to the talisman?
Gunn: It was given to a great hero in charge of protecting it.
Angel: Which gets passed down through the generations so each time this demon returns, it's searching for that talisman.
Spike: And if it finds it, the demon becomes sun-God powerful, and you sods become a series of hearty snacks.
Wesley: Is there a drawing of it?
Gunn: Negative. All I know is that it's gold, about the size of a quarter, and has the sun and some other spooky mumbo-jumbo carved into it.
(Angel flashes back to the small gold medallion on Number 5's shrine. He runs out of the room in a hurry.)
Spike: Oh, see! Drama queen.
(Apartment Building)
(Angel knocks on Number 5's apartment door, and when no one answers, he enters, finding it empty and the shrine has been cleaned away.)
(Cemetery)
(The shrine flowers, pictures, and candles have been moved to the gravesite of the four dead brothers. Number 5 performs a spell.)
Number 5: Tezcatcatl... ven. Yo te espero. Come. I wait for you.
Angel: Won't work, you know. You want the Aztec warrior to come, to kill you so you can be with your brothers, but... he won't.
Number 5: He will be here. I summoned him.
Angel: Maybe. But he won't kill you... or me. (pats his chest) Missing the secret ingredient. Now give me the talisman, and I'll leave you to your misery.
Number 5: I don't have it. (sips coffee)
Angel: (objects clatter and fall as Angel looks hastily through the shrine) Where is it?
Number 5: You are one strange man, Señor Angel.
Angel: I'm not the one in a mask standing in a cemetery in the middle of the night.
Number 5: No. But you will be. (toasts Angel with his coffee)
Angel: (roughly pats down Number 5 looking for the talisman) You want this thing to punch your ticket, fine. But I'm not gonna let it get the talisman.
Number 5: Say you stop it. Then what? In 50 years it's back, and nothing has changed.
Angel: (holds Number 5 by the lapels) Give it to me.
(The demon is walking through the graveyard toward them.)
Number 5: You were right about Tezcatcatl not wanting to kill me, that I am not a hero, so I had to find a way to fool him, to make myself worthy. I swallowed the talisman. If he wants it, he will have to cut it out of me. (throws Angel into a nearby headstone) You want your talisman? Pues, ven y tomalo. Esta en mi panza. (translation: Come and get it. It's in my belly.) Don't you remember? I'm the hombre who destroyed you last time. Come on. It's in here. (points to his belly) Come and get it. (The demon punches Number 5, who falls down. He stands up, arms out, and speaks to the demon.) That's it. Again.
(Angel stands and grabs a rod from an iron gate. The demon walks toward Number 5 with his sword pointed at the man's gut, but Angel uses the rod to knock him away before he can kill Number 5.)
Angel: Not gonna make it that easy for you. (pushes Number 5 away, fights the demon) We already did this little dance, remember?
(The demon pushes Angel down, and Number 5 engages the demon in a swordfight, leading them away from Angel.)
Number 5: If you're looking for heroes, you're wasting your time.
(The demon sticks his sword into Number 5's stomach, causing him to double over in pain.)
Angel: No! (stands, pushes the demon away from Number 5) It's time I taught you something.
(Number 5 stumbles toward the graves of his brothers, holding his hand to his bloody stomach wound. He falls against the headstone, wiping his bloody hand down the face of the headstone as he collapses to the ground. While Angel fights the demon, Number 5 bleeds on the ground at his brothers' grave. The demon knocks Angel to the ground near the graves, and suddenly hands reach out of the graves. Angel sees the hands reach out of the ground and stands in fright. One by one, the Number Brothers climb out of their graves. Number 1 wearing his gold mask, Number 2 wearing his green mask, Number 3 wearing his silver mask, and Number 4 wearing his red mask. The brothers pop their necks and rotate their shoulders, realigning their bodies after years in the grave.)
Number 5: Mis hermanos.
(The demon snarls at the brothers.)
All: (clap their hands once) !Andale!
(The brothers do acrobatics as they make their way to the little iron fence, and they each take a rod from it as they head to fight the demon. Angel watches them all go past.)
Number 4: (stops, turns to Angel) Amigo... andale. (goes toward the demon, iron rod in hand)
(Angel picks up an iron rod from the ground. The Number Brothers fight the demon, and Angel joins in with a punch here and there. The brothers work together to form a step for one to spring from toward the demon. Reminiscent of their wrestling moves, the jumper lands on the neck of the demon)
Angel: We're trying to kill it, not pin it. (The jumper back-flips so forcefully that he propels the demon into the air as well, landing him face-down in the dirt. The brothers turn him over, face-up, and pin him at each hand and foot.) OK. Pinning works. (drives the iron rod through the demon's heart, causing it to growl and die, turning to dust)(looks toward the headstone, seeing Number 5) Hey.
Number 5: Mis hermanos, they came back.
Angel: Because you're worthy. You proved it.
Number 5: Maybe. But still the demon did not want my heart.
Angel: He didn't want mine, either.
Number 5: Of course not, amigo. Who would want that dried-up walnut of a dead thing? (Coughs) ...c-coffee...
Angel: Coffee? You want coffee?
Number 5: !Estupido! The talisman. It's in... (points, groans)(Angel dumps the coffee out of the thermos and finds the talisman inside) I may not be a hero, but I am not a fool.
(Number 5 passes away. His brothers pick him up and carry him away as Angel watches until they are gone.)
(Wolfram & Hart – Wesley’s Office)
(Angel hands the talisman to Wesley. Spike, Fred, and Gunn are also waiting in his office.)
Angel: See if you can put this someplace safe.
Wesley: Angel, are you OK? I know you've been feeling—
Angel: I'm fine. Got the job done. That's what's important. It's been a long day. See you guys in the morning. (walks away)
Fred: So number 5, he jumped in and helped at the end?
Angel: He died a hero.
(Everyone leaves.)
(Later)
(After everyone else is gone, Angel goes back upstairs and wanders the offices. He stops in Wesley's office, walks up to the table where the magic books are kept, and picks up the prophecy book.)
Angel: (whispering to the book) "Shansu prophecy, English translation."
(He opens the book, and text appears on the page; Angel reads it.)
Fade to black.
Season Five Guide