The bedroom door flew back on its hinges with an almighty crash, bringing a heavy rain of plaster dust from the ceiling, and sending the Klimt crashing to the floor. Spike kicked out at Mary, his foot making satisfying contact with her stomach, sending her hurtling backwards into the arms of one of the crowd of people that had suddenly burst into the room. When Spike had blinked the dust from his eyes, he realised that the ‘crowd’ actually consisted of three people – although given the size of two of them, they probably counted as a crowd.
Ilona held Mary tightly, one arm around her neck. Her two black suited goons stood impassively in the doorway. Spike had to admit to being impressed. Despite her vampire strength, a struggling Mary was making no impression on Ilona’s steely grip. Either she was one hell of a lot stronger than she looked or Wolfram and Hart liked a bit of demon in their CEOs.
“So?” Ilona spoke into Mary’s ear, her voice hard “You have maybe the good excuse for all of this, no?”
“This is no concern of yours. This is personal, between me and him. What he did… he deserves this.” Mary kept her eyes fixed on Spike. “And the slayer deserves worse.”
“The slayer…” Ilona nodded as if considering her words. “I have nothing against vendetta, I am Italian after all.” She shrugged. “But, this...” she tightened her arm lock with a jerk. “No concern, huh? You kill three of my men. You threaten someone under my protection. That, I think, makes it my concern.” She brought her mouth closer to Mary’s ear. “Try harder,” she hissed.
Mary turned her head as much as she was able and glared at Ilona defiantly. Ilona shrugged. “OK.” Spike wasn’t exactly sure where in her tight fitting dress the stake appeared from, but Ilona drove it into Mary’s chest with the ease born of long practice. She turned away, dusting off her hands with a gesture of distaste. “I will not stand betrayal.” She looked over at Spike, eyes narrowed, and pointed the stake in his direction. “You know, I never did trust that one. She had the shifty leetle eyes, like the gypsies. Pah! We shall speak of her no more.” She walked over to the bed and smiled down at Spike. “Ah! There is a sight for the sore eyes, no? We were beginning to think maybe you’d got yourself smooshed! But ‘ere you are. Still so ‘andsome and no smooshing! You had us all so worried!”
“Well, you know what it’s like. Been a bit tied up lately.” Spike raised his wrists.
Ilona gave a throaty chuckle. “On you they look good.” She bent to examine the handcuffs. “Ha! These she stole as well! You see! Like the gypsies!” Muttering curses under her breath, she straightened. “OK, I send someone for the cutters and then a leetle snip-snip and you are free, yes?” She turned to one of the black suited men standing in the doorway, giving her instructions in rapid Italian. Spike caught Drusilla’s name and called out to Ilona.
“Do you have her? Drusilla…”
Ilona turned back to him. “No, but we will and then…” she raised the stake.
“No.” Spike said calmly. “Don’t hurt her. Look, Dru’s not responsible for any of this, not really. She didn’t kill your blokes, Mary did that.”
“You want we don’t kill her?” Ilona looked at him with a puzzled frown.
“No.” He frowned as he sorted out the confusion of Ilona's English. “I mean… yes. I don’t want her dusted.” He sighed and shook his head. “She needs help not punishment.”
Ilona shrugged. “Si, what you say may be true… but we try the psychoanalysis with the vampires before. They eat the therapist. Is not good. We lose too many good therapists like that. Besides, I do not think that the Senior Partners would take so kindly, huh?” She gave Spike a soft smile. “You are a good man, I think, to care for one such as this. OK. We find her and we take her out of the country, away from the trouble, no?” Ilona turned to give her instructions to her patiently waiting men.
“Tell them...” Spike paused, and Ilona turned back to him. “She’s… fragile. Tell them to be treat her gently.” He felt himself hoping they would be gentle enough for her to slip out of the care of Wolfram and Hart at the first opportunity.
The two men dismissed, Ilona sat on the bed next to Spike. “So. Now we wait.” She kicked off her shoes and swung her legs up onto the bed. “What shall we do to fill the time?”
“How did you find me?” Spike shifted his position as Ilona settled closer. Getting a bit cosy. He eyed her suspiciously. But, he had to admit, the feel of her warmth and the smell of her exotic perfume wasn’t exactly unpleasant…
“I am CEO of Wolfram and ‘art! I can kick the donkey when I need to!” Ilona laughed.
“Ass,” Spike grinned. “You kick ass.”
“Ah, that too!” She gave a low chuckle. “It wasn’t so difficult. Angeloos and” she rolled her eyes “the great slayer… Boofy… so precious…” the contempt in her voice was palpable, “they say you go missing. They think it has something to do with the killings.” Ilona shrugged. “Mary, she ‘ardly covered her tracks. She took the tranquilliser from our laboratory.” Another shrug. “Now those tranquilisers, either you are going after elephant or something tough like a vampire - and you know, we do not get so many elephants ‘ere in Roma. And when Mary, she did not turn up for work we did a leetle digging into her past, when she was first in Roma, when you and Drusilla were ‘ere, and then we put together the two and the two with the leetle bit of information we hear on the street and… She is not very bright, I think, this Mary. So, ‘ere we are, and ‘ere you are so all is well, no?” She glanced down at the discarded syringe. “And I think we were just in time, huh? Why she KO you again? She was going to move you I think.”
“She said a friend had warned her.” Spike gave a wry smile. And I have a strong suspicion I know who that friend is…
“Ah, yes? A friend. No friend of yours, huh?” Ilona frowned and gazed off into the distance. “I think your Boofy has been talking to someone else, too. She should be careful who she chooses as a friend, especially when that friend is quite so much the jealous and powerful. She too is not very bright, I think.” She turned back to Spike with a smile. “But, is no matter, because now you are well, and no-one has smooshed your pretty face and now we have you back.” She gave him a considering look. “You know, maybe you could take a position for us here in Roma. You have certain… characteristics that would be useful to me. You’d fit well in Roma, no? I think…” she paused and frowned at him. “Why you smile at me like that?”
“Does anything stop you talking?” Spike gave her a bemused grin.
“Oh,” She moved closer to him, her voice seductive, “I can think of one or two things…”
******
When he returned with the bolt cutters half an hour later, Goon Number One found Spike and Ilona sitting close to each other on the bed, backs to the headboard, talking softly. Ilona was holding a cigarette, sharing it companionably with the still handcuffed Spike. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the two of them. None of his business, naturally, but he hadn’t seen the boss look quite so relaxed for a long time, and the vampire... He shrugged and bent to Spike’s handcuffs.
Ilona stood up, straightening her dress. “Remember what I say, huh? You make dangerous enemies.” She bent down and, cradling his chin in her hand, gave him a long and lingering kiss. She pulled back and looked down at him with a rueful smile. “Such a waste! You get tired of playing with the girls, you come find a real woman, yes? OK. We get you free, you come back to Wolfram and Hart and maybe clean up, rest a little . We tell Angeloos and your Boofy that you are safe, no? And then later we… ‘ow you say… debrief you?”
The handcuffs fell away and Spike rubbed his wrists, wincing. “That sounds fun,” he said. And he had some business of his own to attend to.
*******
Later, back at Wolfram and Hart, Spike carefully let himself in to Ilona’s empty office. The computer hummed quietly in the corner, screen blank. He moved the mouse – bingo! So, Ilona was a naughty CEO. Didn’t she know how dangerous it was not to log off at the end of the day? All sorts of wicked people could just drop by and get access to all her files. He frowned in concentration as he scanned through directories and file lists… all the very sensitive information that a company like Wolfram and Hart kept… he gave a grunt of pleasure… just like that one… He opened the file with a grin, which was rapidly replaced with a frown. Bugger! Encrypted. He tapped his fingers on the desk. No matter. He couldn’t crack it; but he knew a girl who could. Just a case of getting on to the LA server….just like… that… sign on as Angel… OK… need a password… let’s just try… Spike gave a snort of laughter. “Peaches, you are so bloody predictable.” And there we are. Angel’s contacts list. Just what he needed.
The email sent, Spike set about removing any traces of what he’d done from the system. Now, all he had to do was find a phone somewhere safe and put in a call to London. Spike let himself out of the office quietly and made for the street.
******
He wasted the first five minutes or so of the expensive telephone call in the dingy bar convincing Willow that yes, it really was Spike and no, it wasn’t Andrew playing silly games and yes, he really was back, and no, he didn’t know why Giles hadn’t told her (although he had a bloody good idea), and yes, he had seen Buffy and no, they weren’t making with the smoochies and, really, he didn’t know what Buffy thought, but yes, she was probably surprised, and Red, could they please just discuss the file? Please?
“Sorry!” He could sense the Willow trademark self-depreciating grin. “OK.” She was suddenly all business-like. “This thing has high-level protection. They’re using an asymmetric system… a public key system? But the algorithm on the private key is huge, and I mean huge. Enormous hash values.” Spike could hear the clatter of keyboard keys as Willow worked and thought aloud. “Wow, whatever they are protecting must be big. If I throw a brute force attack at this… You know the monkeys? Infinite number with an infinite number of typewriters turning out Hamlet eventually? They’d turn out the whole of the works of Shakespeare before they cracked this one…” he could hear the frustration in her voice. “It’s a bit like RC6. A parameterized algorithm. It’s using integer multiplication...”
“It’s whating a who?” Might as well have been speaking Chinese – actually, he’d have had more of a chance with the Chinese. “Red…”
But Willow was chasing a thought pattern and clearly didn’t hear him. She continued “…and 4-bit working registers. So it’s sort of… But it’s not quite… so if we take the encryption algorithm…”
“RED!” A couple of customers in the bar turned at the sound of Spike’s raised voice. He glared at them until they turned away.
“Oh! Sorry…” Spike had finally got Willow’s attention.
“Are you saying you can’t tell me what’s in the file?” He was trying hard to stay calm.
“Well, no. Not in the sub-file, no. At least, if…” Willow was in danger of going off on another tangent.
“WHAT sub-file?” Staying calm was beginning to get harder.
“The one inside the main file you sent,” Willow explained patiently.
“Wait a minute… you’ve cracked the main file?”
“Well, yes. It was just a standard Wolfram and Hart public key… more or less… so I just…”
Spike took a steadying breath. “Then, pet, d’you think you could tell me what was in it?”
“Oh! Well, a spell.” Willow’s tone suggested that it should have been obvious to anyone with half a brain.
“A spell?”
“Uh huh. It’s a… would you just look at that?” The clatter of keyboard started up again. “Whoever put this together was either a genius or completely mad…”
“Willow?” Spike kept his voice as level as he was able. “The spell?”
“Oh! Sorry. A longevity spell. A powerful one - way powerful. Not good-witchy-connected-to-everything powerful. Spooky, deep-in-the-naughty-stuff powerful.”
“I knew it! Too bloody high and mighty to use magic, huh? So. How do I break it?” Spike felt a surge of optimism.
“Well, you don’t,” Willow said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, c’mon! No such thing as an unbreakable spell.”
“Oh, it’s not unbreakable… just… whoa!”
“Red…” Spike growled.
He sensed her wince. “This sort of spell has a pivot. A locking word.”
“Which is..?”
“Probably the thing in the sub-file…”
Spike sighed heavily. “Oh. Can’t you crack it with magic?”
“Umm… no. We’re talking math here – way harder than magic. I’m sorry…”
“Not your fault, love. Thanks for trying. Just have to think of something else.” Like leaving the country… or possibly the planet…
“Wish I could help. I’ll keep at the file, but…” her voice trailed away doubtfully.
“Yeah, I know. The monkeys are working on Hamlet.”
“They just can't seem to get the hang of soliloquies. And they keep demanding banana breaks.” Willow paused. “Spike?” Her voice was hesitant. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah. I’m OK.” Strangely, he didn’t feel OK.
“Look, the word will be something close to the subject. It has to be part of them for the spell to be tied to them? But secret, you know, something only they’d know?”
“Is that a fact?” Spike frowned in concentration. Just an idea... “Red, you’re amazing.”
“I am?”
“You are.”
“Gee. Neat.” He could almost hear the bashful grin. There was an awkward pause. “Spike?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you’re back.” Willow’s voice was quiet. “Really glad.”
“You know,” Spike said, “for the first time in a while, I think I might be, too.”
[Reviews - 69]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | 
Chapter or Story
Has been viewed 2269 times
- Text Size +
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Chapter or Story |
Chapter or Story | Chapter or Story - Text Size +