Stuffed in the back of an overcrowded elevator, Buffy excused herself past a gray haired man. With a map in her mind, she followed the red line painted on the tiled floor, watching the numbers on the wall decrease. So far everything was going smoothly without any tell-tale signs she was being watched. But she wasn’t sure.

A few nurses and a doctor passed by, each one focused on their destination rather than the girl in the white lab coat and thick round glasses. The fake facade seemed to work exactly as Spike had said, much to Buffy’s annoyance. Even the timing lent itself to coincide with his plan, since most doctors were out visiting patients admitted for the day. Now all she needed to do was to break into the office of Doctor Chandler Hayden.

Buffy grasped the key card hidden in the front pocket of her lab coat about to draw it out, when the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Dropping the card back into her pocket, she took a deep breath, slowly exhaling and turned toward the noise. A man with salt and pepper hair and a slight limp approached her, ignoring a call from a nurse behind him.

She ran her fingers through her hair, cursing her luck. Of all the people to run into in this huge building, it had to be him. With him on her heels, there were two options. She could either run, which was never her style, or she could stay and play this through. But the latter presented problems. One look at her and he would see through this reuse. Unless the last minute prop Spike had given her, could serve a purpose.

Pulling out an empty manila file folder from the inside of her lab coat, she lowered her head and pretended to review the record. Her hair fell, draping over her glasses and shielded half of her face from prying eyes. At least her hair color matched an associate doctor in the office and was styled in a similar fashion.

“Doctor Grimes, a moment please,” the man said keeping a safe distance.

Looking away, Buffy pulled a Kleenex from her pocket and pretended to wipe her nose. Once her nerves calmed, she turned toward him.

“Yes, Doctor Hayden?” She took a shallow breath and began to cough while keeping the tissue close to her face.

“Are you feeling okay, Ashlee?” Hayden cocked his head as if evaluating her appearance.

Buffy waved him off, her hands shaking slightly. “Allergies. Came back for meds before I go out for rounds,” she said trying to sound congested.

He looked over his shoulder a couple of times as if expecting someone else to be standing there. Rolling his shoulders, he addressed her. “Right then, I need you to look at Ms. Jacobson’s file on your desk. Her symptoms seem to be worsening. You might want to test for Parkinson’s.”

Not knowing what else to do she nodded and replied, “Sure thing.” Her words rushed, sounding mumbled.

Without waiting for him to respond, she turned away and shoved the Kleenex back in her pocket. Her fingers brushed the key card, and she couldn’t help but swipe herself to freedom.

“Oh, Ashlee?” His voice was loud, twisting her insides. But years of experience made it easier for her to appear relaxed even though she was far from it.

She tilted her head toward him, her fingers white knuckling around the door and waited for him to respond. Her attempt at casual only went so far. If this went bad, she would have no choice but to silence him.

“Yes, Doctor?”

With a dismissive nod he wished her better and left her standing frozen with the door still gripped in her hand. Everything about the exchange made her feel off balanced and she wondered if the cover worked. As much as she wanted to think through everything, there wasn’t time. So she pushed those feelings away and headed for Hayden’s office.

With offices abandoned for the day, she knelt in front of his door and pulled two lock picks out. Inserting the first one, she felt for the pin stack and lifted it to just the right height. The pin was set. She repeated the process with the other pick and the lock turned.

Grinning, she pushed the door open while hearing Spike’s taunting laugher ringing in her mind. After hours of practicing the art of breaking and entering, she tired of his annoying insults at her lack of skill and wanted more than anything to prove him wrong. Now after that quick performance all she could think was, ‘Look who’s laughing now’, and strode into the dark office.

Flipping the light switch, she found his office tidy with a large cedar desk sitting in the middle and a several steel filing cabinets lining the walls. Her nose burned with the heavy scent of disinfectant, almost causing her to cough. She thought it strange to need such aggressive cleaning in an office, but couldn’t take the time to ponder it further. She had her mission.

First she decided to search his desk, thinking something this important would be hidden in a fake drawer bottom or in a hollowed out medical book. She checked both drawers and pulled out files flipping through each one, but found nothing other than cases studies and patient files. A few medical books sat at the bottom, but there wasn’t anything phony about them. After pulling everything out, she shoved and pried the bottom of each drawer but they were solid.

Deciding the desk was a bust, she moved to the right side of the office where the steel filing cabinets sat and ripped one open. File folders flew from her hands and she grabbed more, flipping through patient files, diagnosis analyses and test results but came up empty handed. It was only when she moved to the last cabinet that she found it locked. She reached for her lock picks and held one to the lock but it was too big.

She took a deep breath and held it, her inner voice berating her for what she was about to do, but she didn’t have a choice. Releasing her breath, she stuffed the picks back into her pocket and grabbed ahold of the cold metal handle. With a quick jerk, she ripped the drawer from its stand. It was empty. Looking below, she saw another bottomless pit.

Without thinking, she threw the drawer to the floor and kicked it across the room.

“Goddamn it.” She couldn’t help but scream, not caring if anyone passing by could hear the ruckus she was making. Was this all for nothing? To get this close and find an empty space, it just couldn’t be.

The surveillance was exact. For weeks, a member of Hayden’s staff watched his every move, reporting back to Spike his movements or habits. Everything led to his office.

Now with only one drawer left, everything relied on it holding the proof that drove this entire pursuit. Without it, she was out of options.

With a heavy sigh, she pulled the last drawer open, picturing another empty drawer. But it wasn’t to be. Stuffed in the back sat a brown accordion-style pocket folder.

With trembling hands, she grabbed the folder, unwinding the string wrapped around then lifted the cover. The file contained reports, pictures and a flash drive tucked secure in a pocket in the back. She mulled over a few of the reports and appraised the pictures until she was satisfied. It wouldn’t be until later till she could review the flash drive, for now the unknown was good enough.

Tucking the file into a large pocket sewn into the inside of her lab coat, she locked the destroyed office not caring if it was found that way. Right now, all that mattered was getting out of here unnoticed.

Instead of following the same path, she left the floor through a stairwell that sat next to huge picturesque window. Buffy climbed down the stairs taking two at a time in her impatience, ready to get out of this place and find out exactly what information might lie in the file. But before she could reach the second floor landing, the door exploded open with a burly security guard with his gun drawn. Hayden walked out behind him with a smile that screamed superiority.

“Oh Ms. Summers, we’ve been expecting you. You didn’t think that little scheme of yours worked, did you?” He laughed, dismissing her with the wave of his hand.

Buffy leaned against the stairwell wall nonchalantly, not at all intimidated by the gun or the man holding it and replied with her signature valley girl charm, “Well yeah, I kinda thought it would.”

The dark haired guard narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched while he steadied his arms. His breathing almost panted in its unevenness, and Buffy decided a difference approach. She was faster than many things in this world, but a speeding bullet wasn’t one of them.

She raised her hands shoulder level and took a step forward. “Let’s not get hasty. There’s no need to resort to violence.”
The move seemed to calm the guard’s nerves and his gun lowered slightly, no longer pointed at her head, giving her the window she needed.

Swiftly, she slid to the left and grabbed his arm, pressuring the gun toward him with her forearm. His face grimaced, his arm shaking from the pressure as he pushed his full strength against her grip. But he couldn’t overpower her and she whipped his arm back. The gun fell out of his hands.

Hayden cursed the guard for his incompetence then leaped for the gun as it slid toward him. Pushing the guard away, Buffy ran after the gun kicking out her feet and glided across the tiled floor, snatching the gun away from Hayden. Instead of using the gun for her defense, she threw it over the stairwell, the clang of the metal echoing off the concrete block walls. Hayden laid on the ground, clutching his arm as shallow whimper rolled through him, pulling Buffy’s attention to him. If it hadn’t been for his eyes looking past her, she may not have realized the guard behind her was about to seize her.

Throwing her elbow back, she struck the man in the gut and whipped around, sweeping his legs out from under him. His head struck the railing and his eyes rolled back as he fell to the ground. He was out for the count.

Lying still on the floor, Hayden’s eyes widened, staring at the unresponsive guard. He shook his head as if to clear it and grabbed ahold of the railing. Standing defiantly, lowering his chin to look down at her and said, “It doesn’t matter what you think you’ve found. It’s already too late. We know too much and it’s only a matter of time until we create our own.”

She folded her arms across her chest, trying to keep herself in check to keep from beating the hell out of him. If she could keep him talking, maybe he would reveal something that wasn’t tucked away in the file hiding in her lab coat. Possibly the self-righteousness in her could piss him off enough to start talking.

“You can try all you want but I will stop you.”

He sneered. “Don’t be so sure, Ms. Summers. You’re not quite the anomaly you may think.”

Buffy took a step forward and lifted her chin. “Oh, I don’t know. Giles used to tell me I broke the mold. Are you so sure you could handle someone as powerful as me?”

He snickered, his mouth curled with an ugly twist. “So self-righteous, but they always are.” Pulling a small black box from his white coat, he pushed a button and a blaring alarm sounded. Darkness fell briefly before flood lights lightened the stairwell triggering a subtle eeriness that wasn’t there before.

The hairs on the back of neck stiffened, cold chill bumps ran down her arms when the exit doors burst open. With the hospital on alert, Buffy didn’t have enough time to contemplate a plan or continue to push for information. She moved on instinct.
Before Hayden could cut and run, she threw an upper cut that landed square under his jaw. His head snapped straight up and his body went limp, falling to the floor in mass heap of white and kaki.

Not giving him another thought, she ran out of the stairwell into a narrow hallway filled to the brim with men and women moving toward an emergency exit. Most people conducted themselves in a calm fashion but a couple of men behind her in security uniforms shoved those in front of them, yelling for everyone to move out of the way.

Buffy slowed her pace; purposely letting others weave around her until she was close enough to hear their conversation.

“Fucking idiots. Didn’t they know someone like that should’ve been in unit thirteen?” said a man with a thick beard and a large beer belly.

The man next to him waved him off. “Oh, it’s not that bad. You remember a couple of week ago when that girl got loose and ended up in the cafeteria. The only thing she ended up doing was painting a picture with the jello.”

“Are you kidding me? She was batshit crazy and stronger than a linebacker. It took six men to restrain her. Shit, she even broke Williamson’s arm.” He paused, and Buffy glimpsed behind her. The man absently rubbed his arms and looked back at the man beside him. “Trust me. Never deny the power of someone that’s escaped the psych ward.”

Buffy tapped her index finger against her lip, listening to them discuss the checkpoints that were in place at each exit. Security had strict orders to check each individual’s credentials before they were allowed to exit the building.

If a forged ID card hadn’t been tucked away in her lab coat before this whole thing started, this might have posed a problem for her. But that wasn’t the obstacle standing in her way. What kept her from breezing out of here was a picture held in each guard’s hand.

A four by six picture of a blonde girl with green eyes and not a care in the world beamed. Her pre-Sunnydale days if she remembered correctly. A flash of the days past moved through her and the distance pushed her forward.

Buffy quickened her pace, tucking herself into a mix of chatty women in blue scrubs and interjected herself into the conversation.

“Why are we evacuating instead of going in to lock down?” She kept her gaze alert, noticing where the guards were focusing their attention.

Leaning forward, the woman with curly red hair spoke. “I heard that normal protocol backfired, and security couldn’t keep the building locked.” Her hands moved with animated vigor. “So instead, half of security is posted at each exit while the other half is checking each floor. Only vital staff got lucky enough to stay behind with their patients to make the search easier.”

Buffy nodded slowly and the woman turned back to her friends, seeming to forget their exchange. The woman’s comment about the failed security measures spurred her inner Sherlock, and she wished she had time to stagger back and survey the scene. But the seriousness of what was in front of her kept her on track.

The red headed nurse flinched when the guard requested her ID, berating her for not being ready for him. The sight of their rifles drawn kept the woman quiet as she fulfilled their request and was sent through.

Prepared, Buffy smiled politely even though it wasn’t even close to genuine and offered the guard her ID card. His eyes narrowed checking the picture and the writing on the back. Keeping the card in his grip, he lifted the photo up and held it next to her face. He glanced back and forth from her to the picture. He cocked his head and gave her a condescending smile.

“So, am I free to go?” Her tone was all innocence while she glanced at the retreating backs of other employees making their way to freedom. ‘There’s nothing wrong. He’s just trying to intimidate me. Just keep your cool, it’s almost over.’ She repeated this mantra over and over while keeping her stare emotionless.

He considered her, giving the picture one last look before his scrutiny changed to something more of a leer than an inquisitive nature. “Girl like you deserves a second look.” He winked at her as he handed her the card back and waved the next person through.

She ignored his comment, grabbing her card and merged with another group of people coming from an exit close by. Wrapping her arms around herself, she took a deep breath and tried to settle the drummer hiding away in her heart. What was supposed to be an easy in and out had turned to chaos. Nothing had gone according to plan, but here she was walking away with the evidence and unscathed for once. But it was too early to celebrate, she still had to meet up with Spike and get out of the city.

An older balding man cut in front of her and impolitely pushed through the throng of people. Buffy decided to let him take the lead and followed him to the end of the block, where a woman with a purple sign marked P2 stood. Once she breached the mass group of people, she turned the corner around a red brick building. She gave a passing look to see if anyone followed, and she ran.