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Author's Chapter Notes:
The Master reveals his plan, Buffy and Spike are in the fight of their lives, and C. G. is in hot water in this slightly edited chapter.
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C. G. woke up inside of what could only be deemed a factory. He had thought that he was inside the real army base and that he had found Spike and managed to get some evidence against those who were trying to capture the vampires and demons, but as he focused his dark brown eyes, he knew he was mistaken.

The Deputy Chief found himself inside a room. It wasn't a cell, he reasoned. There were no bars anywhere, not that he could feel, anyway. C. G. hoped that he would be able to escape to contact Tater. If the other cop wasn't captured, he would find C. G. and bust him out. C. G. knew he had to find out where he was and escape.

**But how?** He wondered.

The room was bathed in darkness and he could tell that it had not been used in quite some time from its musty smell. The air seemed to be getting thin, too, despite the scent, as he found it hard to breathe suddenly. He felt ahead of him; then his hand connected with a cool object. C. G.'s hand roamed along the walls until he felt a light switch.

Turning it on, he recoiled a moment later when he discovered that the thing he'd touched was the body of a young girl.

She was no more than fourteen or fifteen, the cop guessed. She had long, sable colored hair and her eyes, open and staring into nothingness, were a deep winter green color. He reached down to see if she had a pulse. The policeman jerked his hand away when it became clear that she was dead.

He checked the other figures in the room and found that they were all in the same condition. C. G. backed off, hurriedly scrambling for a door or a window. Wherever he went, he saw other bodies, perfectly preserved like the ones he'd checked but definitely deceased. Some were dressed in army fatigues; some were dressed in jeans and t shirts.

On a wall, the policeman saw an exit. He looked at the door, gauging whether or not that was a trap. He figured his captors were too smart to put him in a room where the escape route was easily accessible. The cop looked for something he could use as a weapon and saw a rock that had fallen to the floor. Picking it up, C. G. crept toward the door. He opened it carefully, not making any sounds.

The Welsh officer flung open the door and went outside. He hadn't been in the corridor two minutes before several vampires, in full game face, were coming toward him from all sides. He tried to go back inside his room when the dead bodies he'd seen slowly rose off of the tables, growling and snarling. A male one smacked his hand and the rock sailed down to the ground again. The newly risen undead people brought C. G. to a table where another vampire awakened.

Their leader, who was the girl that he had seen, spoke to him just then. "So, you have found our little community," she began, laughing.

To C. G., the girl's voice sounded like dead leaves crunching on the ground or like a male demonic presence. Her face, which in life had looked like a normal girl's, was now shriveled and ancient, bearing the fully demonic look of the long since dead who had abandoned all human appearances.

"I commend you, mortal," the girl went on; then, she/he changed her mind, saying, "actually, I don't praise anyone but myself."

The other undead people raised their arms and bowed to the girl. "All hail to the Master!" they shouted. "Give tribute to the MASTER!"

C. G. tried to fight his way out but the hoard was too strong. They grabbed him and brought him close to the girl. Her foul breath tickled his nose. She reached out a long, cold finger and caressed him.

"Who are you, mortal?" She asked. C. G. stared at the red eyes shining out from her face.

"I'm C. G. Springfield," he told her.

"Why have you come here?" She queried, her hand moving lower on his person. It took every ounce of self control for C. G. not to vomit. She dropped her hand a moment later.

"Tourist?" He asked, faking a laugh.

The girl smiled, flashing some regular teeth, but superimposed on them were long, sharp canines.

"A sense of humor," she/he said. "I love a sense of humor."

Turning to an older woman—a creature who looked to be about twenty five or so—the girl commented, "I think this one will be by my side just to make me laugh!"

"'By your side'?" C. G. echoed.

"Yes," she/he said. "You see...".

The Master/girl snapped her fingers. Some other vampires brought forth the still forms of Tater and the two other cops. C. G. discovered though that they were still alive from their rising and falling chests.

"I need all the sacrifices I can get before midnight," she told the cop, looking straight through him, "and I need my faithful children." Her hand savagely grabbed his curly hair.

"You will become one of us," the Master's voice said, a deadly promise uttered.

"Over my dead body!" The Deputy Chief told the girl without realizing the pun he had said. The other vampires snickered.

"That is precisely what will happen," the girl told C. G. The Master/she jumped off of the table and yanked him down so that his neck was close to her.

The cop's hand went inside of one of his pockets, desperately searching for any weapon that would give him an advantage. He wished that he had his knapsack with him, but the army officer/vampire had nabbed it when the cop had gone further inside the base.

C. G.'s hand shifted slightly but not enough to make any grand movements. If they chained him or even held his arms down so that he couldn't attack them in some way, he didn't stand a chance. His only option for the moment was to keep her/him talking.

"The others called you 'the Master'", C. G. prompted. "The Master of Vampires, I'm guessing?"

The Master rolled his/her eyes. Humans could be so dimwitted! This one would be his jester or some other insignificant instead of one beside him, the Master decided.

"That's correct," the Master/girl answered.

"And this isn't the true army base," C. G. finished. When the Master slightly dipped his/her head in confirmation, the cop asked, "But why go through all this trouble? Why take over an army base near Sunnydale?"

The Master's perfectly manicured nail swept the length of the small room. "Look around you, foolish human," the head vampire said. "You know the mortals have an underground facility where my legions have been bound, chained and tagged like so much fodder for the humans' enjoyment?"

"Yes, I thought this was it," C. G. answered.

"As did all these people in the army and in other positions of authority," the Master said. "I purposely worked all things to my design so that the conversion would begin here and eventually engulf Sunnydale."

"Why there? Why not a penthouse view in a place like, oh, Las Vegas," C. G. asked, fascinated despite himself.

The Master gave the Deputy Chief a "you really are stupid" look as he/she responded, "Do you know what a Hellmouth is?"

C. G. looked back at the vampire with deadly calm as he said, "It's an opening to a dimension created and manipulated by Hell from which all kinds of demonic energies flow."

The Master didn't register surprise often, but the cop saw the flash of astonishment in his/her glowing red orbs for a millisecond before they became normal looking again. He would, upon becoming this one's sire, ask about the wealth of his knowledge concerning vampires, the Master decided.

For now, however, the Maaster/she responded by saying, "Sunnydale is the Grand Central Station of Hellmouths, you might say."

Another vampire sighed, saying, "Master, let's just kill this one! He asks too many questions!"

The Master's eyes found the male vampire. "You think I have been talking with this one too long?" he/she inquired softly. "You wish me to end his life?"

"It would be an honor to kill him for you, Master," the vampire answered enthusiastically.

The Master's long talons beckoned to the undead man. "Come here, my childe," he/she said.

The vampire came forward. The Master caressed his childe, then his hand twisted the other vampire's neck, breaking it. "You do not think for me; I do the thinking for YOU!" He snapped to the pile of dust that was in front of him/her.

C. G. never took his eyes off of the head vampire, but inside he felt revulsion. "Now, then, oh foolish one, where was I?" the Master asked the cop.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Buffy punched Spike in the face. "Bloody hell!" He yelled.

The vampire saw stars, but he circled Buffy, trying his best not to return any punches with his vampire strength lest he hurt her. He kicked Buffy in the knee, sending her to the ground. While she grabbed her injured knee, Spike shook off the sensations he felt.

"Dr. Jacobson," one of the officers watching the ensuing battle said.

"Yes, ma'am?" The only scientist who was in the viewing booth asked.

"Why is the male thing not affected? He seems in control of his faculties," she wondered aloud.

Jacobson confirmed, "I haven't seen this development before. I think, however, that even with the behavior modification chips, some hostiles may be able to shirk off the programming. Most interesting."

The female officer said, "But the Slayer, and the other species of demons seem to be much more susceptible."

Riley looked at Jacobson, who nodded his white head in total agreement.

Riley took up the slack, saying, "For some reason, our research indicates, maybe because they are influenced by the one who sires them or for some other reason, vampires don't seem to take to our attempts to condition them as much as the other hostiles."

The Southern general erupted from his seat, shouting to Riley, "Good God, Commander Finn! We're not paying you to make mistakes! You'd bettah fix this right now or we might have to replace you!"

Riley wasn't allowing fear to cloud his reason. "This will be corrected. It's only a temporary glitch."

His eyes fell to the scientist. Dr. Jacobson wanted to tell the truth; to say that there were no guarantees, but he knew what would happen if the Commander or the other military officers got angry.

He wasn't looking forward to being put into a cage with one of the crazed inmates and tortured to death, or worse, sired so that he'd be a prisoner.

"Yes, sirs and ma'ams," the doctor piped up. "This will be corrected. If nothing else, we can use the research gained from the battlefield and modify the chips."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Although Spike was trying to focus all of his attention toward Buffy, his orange eyes wandered up toward the booth. He couldn't hear all of the conversation, but the way the general had bounded up from the chair gave the vampire the information he needed. Something was going on: something not good for the army gits, but possibly great for him and his captured fellow demons and Buffy.

The Slayer was rising, albeit slowly, as her healing ability kicked in. She somersaulted over to where Spike was, trying to land a punch to his chest. Spike deflated it just barely.

For several moments, Buffy and Spike traded blows. "Pet, you've gotta resist this!"

When Buffy smacked him hard across the face, the revenant tried again.

"You're the Slayer! You're one o' the most powerful birds I know! Use that healing ability jus' like you did for your knee and fight back! Don't let them control you!" Spike told her.

XXXXXXXXX

In the booth, Riley's hand pressed down on the red button on his control.

XXXXXXXXX

Spike grabbed his head as he felt waves of searing pain. "Don't disappoint me!" Riley told the vampire. "Fight her, now!"

The platinum haired, beastly looking vampire felt himself losing control again. "Neverrr!" He growled. But he sensed himself being consumed inside the demon. When Buffy went for his throat, Spike grabbed her hand and jerked her to him. He hugged her tightly, trying to cut off her air.

The Slayer gasped, her face becoming red with the effort of trying to free herself. Spike lowered himself to her neck, his incisors coming closer to her delicate jugular vein.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Giles and Joyce went toward the base, an axe from Buffy's arsenal clutched in her mother's hands. When she didn't hear her companion's footsteps, Joyce turned around. The Advisor appeared to her to be praying.

"What are you doing?" Joyce whispered forcefully. Giles opened his deep blue eyes and looked at her.

"I am giving us a cloaking spell. To any military men, we shall appear to be officers," he whispered back. "That should help us until we can get some real military clothes."

Joyce smiled. She was glad that Giles seemed to be two steps ahead of the soldiers. With him on their side, she knew Buffy would win. Joyce hoped that her daughter was safe. She also hoped that Cordelia would be all right in the car.

Buffy's mother pulled out her cell phone and placed a call to her daughter. "Hurry if you are calling Cordelia," Giles urged. "This spell shan't last long."

Joyce nodded, her hands sweating as she gripped her axe tighter. "Delia, are you okay?" she asked her daughter.

Inside Giles' car, the older Summers responded, "I'm fine, Mom. I've managed to crack that code and, boy, did those military guys plan well!"

"Cordelia!" the Advisor snapped. "The way in, if you please."

Cordelia's voice said, "Yeah, right. Uh, as I said, they either planned really well, or were so really stupid! I mean, suppose there's a fire or something? There's only one way in or out: the side door, about 50 yards on the Western side of the base. Pretty dumb, if you ask me. How would their people get out in time?"

Joyce urged her daughter, "Delia, focus!

"Once you get in, use this code for the elevator: 1125/BBH," Cordelia's voice told the pair. "That should get you downstairs to a set of tunnels which, if you follow them, will lead you to the underground cells. I'd wish you luck, but you taught me never to lie, Mom."

"I've got to go, Delia," Joyce told her. "I love you."

Hearing Cordelia say the same, then turn off her cell phone, Joyce went toward the side of the base with Giles close behind her. It was extremely quiet as they got closer to their goal. When they reached the side door, Joyce leaned in close to Giles.

"Doctor," she whispered urgently.

"What?" Giles asked.

Joyce felt a moment of trepidation, not only because of the peril they and Buffy and Lord-knew-who-or-what-else was in but because of her emerging feelings for the man beside her. She didn't know if she was in love, or if it was just simple attraction, but she did know that she felt something much more than she'd ever felt with Hank.

"If we don't make it out of all this..." she began. Giles stopped his perusal of the lock and turned slightly to look at her.

"Don't talk like that," he said, though the words of the prophecy were etched in his brain.

"But if we don't," Joyce told him, "I just wanted to tell you that I really like you." A beat; then she said, "a lot."

Giles blinked several times at that. "Reciprocated," he told her without hesitation.

Joyce leaned up and placed a kiss that was half chaste, half suggestive on his cheek. The Advisor hoped that he would get to return those feelings; hoped that they wouldn't become the evil vampires' slaves.

"Why have you broken the Commander's instructions?" A voice rang out. It was female and belonged to a sergeant, Joyce and Giles noticed as they saw her stripes.

"We thought we saw some movement in the bushes and we were going to check it out," Giles said smoothly. The officer studied both of them, then waved them on.

"Well, that went well," Joyce said, breathing a sigh of relief. They were about to work on the lock to the base when they were thrown violently back.

Giles and Joyce saw three officers and three others; one in complete game face. "Well, look, Ma: no hands!" Angelus teased as he came out from the darkness.

Joyce's eyes widened in horror when she saw the clothes melt off of the "officer", revealing a glassy eyed girl.

"Anyanka, why don't you bring our guests over closer to me?" Darla instructed.

Anya, Wesley and Willow thrust guns in Giles and Joyce's faces, their stares vacant. Drusilla came forward with a struggling Cordelia in her hands. She thrust her into Wesley's waiting arms. Willow used a spell to contain Giles so he couldn't move and Anya kept her gun trained on Joyce.

"You wicked, evil..." Cordelia began saying. Drusilla slapped her hard, scratching her face with a long, painted nail.

"You won't talk to Mummy or Brother that way, dearie!" She yelled.

Darla chuckled, saying, "She's only saying the truth, Dru." The blonde vampire walked over to Cordelia. "Soon, though, you won't care about anything but giving the Master what he wants."

"Well, considering the way you all look, I hope he wants a trip to a plastic surgeon for you guys," Cordelia joked, trying to be brave even though her heart was pumping a mile a minute.

Angelus looked at her, commenting, "Trying bravery on for size? Your heart's saying otherwise. I know you're scared. But don't worry. I'll stop your fears with a well placed blood drain. A little from me; a lot from you, and you'll be seeing things in a whole new way!"

Cordelia screamed, as Angelus taunted, "That's right, baby! Lemme hear you sing!" He grabbed her neck but didn't squeeze. Cordelia stopped screaming.

"I take your blood, you'll become like me," he said. "Ooorrr...best case scenario, your blood goes to the Master's bod and he rises! And the world goes on a'spinnin'...with vampires in charge!"

"Enough of that, Angelus," Darla commanded, snapping her fingers. The favorite childe of her let go of the dark haired Summers then stepped forward. As he left her side when others grabbed her, he gave her a slightly mournful look.

"Hold those three until the guests of honor arrive," Darla commanded. Her eyes looked toward a window which was very high off the ground as she thought of drinking her father's blood again once he revived totally.

XXXXXXXXXXX

C. G. was wondering why the Master seemed accommodating enough to answer all of his questions. The cop knew he was building a demonic army at this other base, one large enough to carry out their threat on the headquarters where Riley and the other army officers were stationed.

Then, the vampires would move on to the next base, and the next, and the next, until everyone was either their slave or out of the way. The humans wouldn't be able to defend themselves. C. G. had to stop them; it had to end here. He touched the object in his pocket. If he could pull it out without the vampires knowing it... C. G. still watched the feminine Master.

"I grow tired of your endless prattle," the Master finally said, bored. He/she grabbed C. G.'s t shirt and ripped it, exposing his heaving chest underneath. He/she started crowing to his cronies.

"Ahh, children, this one is well formed," the Master said. "You will love being a demon, when your body is preserved forever!"

The cop slowly took the thing in his pocket out, his hand curled around it in a death grip, as the Master came closer to claiming his prize.






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