***
Chapter 7
*** 

"Buffy?  This is Angel returning your call.  Look, Buffy, I've got some bad news.  Faith's been found dead in her cell.  They are saying she hung herself, but I'm not buying it."  Angel sounded tired.  His face might not be expressive, but his voice usually was.  "Call me back when you get this message, okay?"
 
Giles paled as he listened to Buffy relay the message from Angel.
 
"Angel doesn't buy it that Faith got taken down in a yard fight. Where they had her locked up wasn't like that prison on 'Oz'; besides, Faith could have kicked Adebisi's ass from here to Tuesday without breaking a sweat.  She's too skilled for some random inmate to have had that one good day."  Buffy looked as shaken as Giles.  "I have to agree with Angel.  So, Watcher mine, who was it? Was it the not so friendly government operatives or the Council?"
 
"I wish I could say with certainty," Giles paused to think.  "I don't know yet how much Travers may have told that Senate committee about Slayers, at least not specifically Faith and you.  I have a feeling it was more likely a Council action.  Travers has been wanting to be rid of Faith ever since she came out of that coma."
 
"Any of your friends likely to know for sure?  I'd really like to think I can live my life and do my duty without having the Council targeting me as well."  Buffy had been up most of the previous night trying to comfort and console her mother, who had unfortunately heard Angel's message before she did and was worried sick.
 
"I have a call in to Robson." Giles glanced at his answering machine as if looking at it could magically cause an answer to appear.  "I don't know if or when he might get it.  He was taking his Potential, Nora, and going into hiding when I last spoke with him."
 
"This is so wrong, Giles.  The good guys are in hiding.  Most of the friendly demons are disappearing and the humans are scarier than the things I hunt every night.  Things used to be so simple. Faith and I had our issues but she was the only person alive who could ever totally get what my life is like, what it is to be ‘Chosen’.  She messed up but the big reason she went totally off the rails is because she wasn’t able to deal with having killed a human.  She was every bit as much ‘The Slayer’ as I am and now I’m back to being the ‘one’.  She deserved better both as a Slayer and in how she died.”

*** 

Giles watched the address Travers made to the General Assembly of the United Nations.  “Wonder what the birk had to say in closed sessions.  This was bad enough.”  Whatever he had revealed had caused quite the shake-up. 

“…..announced his retirement today.  Mr. Annan of Ghana has been Secretary General of the UN since January of 1997.  His unexpected announcement has been met with astonishment in diplomatic circles.  The appointment of Cosmin Beldescu of Romania as Sec. Annan’s replacement as Secretary General is also a cause of much surprise.  Little is known about this newest member of the Romanian delegation to the United Nations and his appointment to this august position so rapidly following his arrival is seen as unprecedented…..”

***

“It’s time gentlemen.  The people of the world are ready.  We are ready.”  Secretary Beldescu was firm and confident as he addressed the collected heads of State and their representatives in the bunker below New Jersey.  “We have already let out enough information to soften the blow.  It remains to finally do what the public has been clamoring for us to do and come clean.”  His grin could only be referred to as wicked.  “We shall give them what they wish, no?”
“I will address the world tomorrow and lay it all out then.  All the major news outlets have been alerted and we will be having the conference in the Security Council room.  This will add a nice stamp of control on the entire project don’t you think?”

***
 
The Scoobies gathered around the TV for the ‘big address’ as it was being called.  Spike nervously sipped at the cocoa Joyce had thoughtfully fixed in an effort to offer liquid comfort to all.  ‘Think some of Rupert’s scotch might be a better idea,’ he thought ruefully.

“Citizens of the world, I have come before you to finally stop treating you as mere children.  The human race is resilient and clever and there is no need to continue to withhold truths from you for fear that you would panic,” Beldescu intoned.  His demeanor was that of a determined leader speaking to his people as equals.  “You have been deluged with reports from around the globe of horrifying incidents, incidents that your governments have long hidden or explained away in order to protect you from the awful truth.  That truth is that we are not alone on our Mother Earth.  No, I do not imply that we have made contact with some alien race.  These monstrosities you have rightly feared are from the same planet that mankind has cultivated and tamed.  Make no mistake, they are not human, but they are of Earth.  They are the very stuff of nightmares long hidden in our folk tales and myths.
 
“People have been aware but reluctant to speak publicly about these things until the atrocities became uncontainable.  They are varied in type and go by many names, some deeply embedded in the human psyche.  Monster, Vampire, Demon…you have all had subconscious awareness of their existence.  Those ‘things that go bump in the night’ are all too real and we must stop treating you as small children being told that the monster in the closet is imaginary.  In my land, my beautiful Romania, we have long accepted the reality of one type of demon, the Vampire.  One of our National Heroes, our beloved Vlad Dracul was murdered by such and the body of that hero has been reigning terror, propelled by the beast that murdered him.  Since 1476, Vlad Tepes has been denied sacred rest while unspeakable acts have been committed by the demon residing in his corpse!”
 
The screen behind the new Secretary General began to show scenes of a handsome, pale man with long dark hair and piercing eyes being surrounded by uniform clad humans.  The Secretary General turned sideways and indicated the press and the television viewers should watch as the images told the story.  The vampire of legend had been cornered, stripped of his magicks, and was vulnerable.  As newsmen watched in amazement, he was held down and beheaded, becoming nothing but a brief flash of skeleton and then dust.
 
“What you have just witnessed is the end of one, but only one, of these demons.  After centuries, the hero of my people will be at rest and the hell beast that stole his body and his memory has been returned to the devil himself!  The abomination, this travesty of human imitation has been eliminated at last.
 
“This is the information that you must finally be given, people of the world.  Humans are in a struggle to survive.  Demons have always been among us, preying upon our children, our weak, our vulnerable.  As you have seen over these past terrifying months, their attacks have become more bold, more deadly.  No longer a lone peasant murdered, butchered or worse, but large groups of humans have become the fodder of these denizens of hell.  No more!”  He practically shouted the rallying cry.  “We shall be antelope to the lion no longer!  Children of the world, it is time to wake up and deal with the nightmare that is, in the end, reality.”
 
Xander gave a nervous laugh, “I thought the Dark Master was kinda nice--for a vamp, that is.”  Buffy gave him a dirty look.
 
Spike stared at the screen and wondered just how long before the Scourge of Europe would be in the crosshairs.  He had a fleeting thought, wondering if Dru was somewhere safe.  No doubt her Pixies had been quite vocal for months.  She was crazy but not stupid.  Somehow he thought she’d make it.
 
“No coming back from this,” Giles muttered.  “This cat isn’t going back into the bag now.  What the bloody hell are they thinking?”
 
“They’re thinking all-out war,” Spike replied glumly.
 
***

Rabbi Goldstein looked at the smallish crowd of concerned citizens and lightly tapped the microphone to begin the discussion.  “We want to thank all of you for coming tonight in spite of the downpour.    Most of you are here because you have become concerned over events that seem to be drawing us all along a path that is both frightening and foreboding. 
 
Some of you are here because friends or neighbors, even family, have been directly affected by the changes in the way our world is looking at interpreting the laws of this great land.  There is real fear in the streets of our cities and towns, not just fear of those beings we have lived with unknowingly--or knowingly, in some cases--since the start of time, but also fear of each other.“ He looked out at the nodding heads, mostly human.
 
An elderly couple sat in the shadows, their pale grey skin indicating they belonged to the demon community.  “I recognize many of you and welcome you all to Congregation B’nai Israel, a house of worship and peace.  Shalom.”
 
“For those of you unfamiliar with me or my colleagues, perhaps I should introduce us. “  He laughed in a self-deprecating manner and added, “I should be so famous that you all know me?  Oy, I’ll introduce myself first, I think.”  The crowd laughed softly.
 
“I am Rabbi Saul Goldstein and I have led this congregation these past twenty years.  At my right is Father Michael Quinn from St. Jude Thaddeus on Fourth Street.  To my left is Reverend Calvin Prentiss Pastor of the Bethel A.M.E. over on Cottonwood.  Next to him, the honorable Imam of the Al-Sadiq Mosque and my great friend, Kalil Mohammed Azim.  I tease him that he was recruited to keep our group from becoming the living embodiment of the old joke of the Rabbi the Priest and the Minister!”  The crowd laughed a bit louder at that quip.
 
“And introducing yourselves as 'Father Mike, his brother Cal, and his other brother Kal’ doesn’t?” quipped the Imam.
 
They waited for the laughter to die down.  It felt good to laugh, if only for a brief moment.
 
The Rabbi continued. “Like you, we have been watching the events around us and have come to the conclusion that there is a need for those of us called to lead spiritually to step up to the plate and follow our consciences.  This is not the time for remaining silent, even if it would be equally foolhardy to become so well known as to become ineffective.”  The Rabbi closed his eyes at some private memory before continuing, “It is ever the way in this world to walk a thin line when trying to take the moral high ground.”  His eyes teared up and he motioned for Father Mike to continue.
 
“Mark your calendars that Saul ceded the microphone,” the Priest quipped, trying to elicit a grin from the emotional Rabbi.  “Let’s get to it then.”  Father Mike looked like the Notre Dame fullback he once was years before, a bull of a man with not much neck, but tons of heart.  His gruff voice added a touch of no-nonsense to the discussion at hand. 
 
“We’ve lived with demons here in Sunnydale for all of our collective lifetimes.  Pussyfoot around it all you like, call our neighbors what you will, we all were aware, even if we never talked about it.  We knew to keep our kids inside after dark, what streets to avoid at all times and that the month of May usually means some pretty weird things happen like clockwork.  We also know that not all demons are unfriendly or dangerous,” he nodded towards the grey couple in the corner.  “Some even attend services and play a mean game of Bingo on Saturday nights!”
 
Several pairs of eyes shifted toward the nervous pair of Grivloks who had been formally ‘outed’ by the good Father.  “Ralph there is even preparing to become a deacon!”
 
“Now no one here is saying the nasties shouldn’t be dealt with.  Any demon or human who kills or preys on others needs to be given some form of justice and no one here is disagreeing about that.”  Many heads nodded in quick agreement.  “Still, there is a big difference between justice, justice with mercy, and the outright injustice going on around us on a regular basis since the formally invisible elephant in the room has been exposed.”
 
“We mean to make certain that our fellow sentient beings get treated with the same fairness we still reserve for those we call human.  Thanks to the fear inflamed by our leaders, this calls for a bit of law bending.”  He looked fearlessly at the hand-picked group they’d invited and sent up a silent prayer that they had chosen wisely.
 
“We are establishing a sort of underground railroad for those of our neighbors in jeopardy who are not a threat to any of us.  There are networks of groups forming, kind of like the resistance movements in Europe in the Great War.  We’re keeping information sharing to a minimum to prevent any of it falling into the wrong hands, but we'll manage to get the job done.”
 
Some in the audience began to shift in their seats nervously.  The unspoken message was one of concern that their complacent lives were about to change if they were being called upon to do more than look on in despair and instead take action.
 
“Each of us here,” Father Mike motioned to his fellow clergy, “came up with a list of people we felt had the kind of heart that holds courage and decency enough to join in this effort.  Men and women willing to do the right thing and save innocent lives.  That would be you.”
 
The group sat silent for a moment until Harvey Wicks, proprietor of one of the more lucrative butcher shops in Sunnydale, thanks in part to many in the demon community, stood to speak.  “Look, I’m all for justice and all that, but you’re asking us to put our lives, our families in danger.  I’m not sure I want to go out on that particular limb.”
 
A couple of heads nodded and a murmur rose as this fear-driven but valid point was discussed quietly by the crowd. 
 
“I mean, I wouldn’t just stand there if one of my customers were being dragged away.  Don’t think so anyway.  But what you’re talking about here is against the law!”  Harvey was beginning to sweat at the thought that someone might report the current meeting putting him in hot water without him even doing anything illegal!  “They have all those anti-demon laws that passed pretty much everywhere to keep us all safe.  It’s pretty clear what kind of penalties there are for aiding and abetting sub-humans!”
 
“Sub-humans?!”  Chaim Rosenberg rose in outrage.  “Where have I heard that term before?  Oh, yes, the Warsaw ghetto in 1942 just before they put my family in rail cars and sent us to Treblinka!  Back then I was one of those ‘sub-humans’.  I was eleven years old and had not even had my Bar Mitzvah.”
 
“This is hardly the same thing,” Harvey exclaimed, his face red.  “You are a human; they’re demons!”
 
“Demons, schemons!  Suddenly you’re the Almighty knowing who’s who and what’s what?”  Chaim was spoiling for a fight, one he wished had been fought for him so many years ago.  “Let me give you a bit of a history lesson, Mr. Butcher Man, one I lived and see happening all over again.”
 
Harvey sat down, fuming, as the others all made it clear they were interested in Chaim’s point of view.
 
“I came to this wonderful country an orphan, allowed in because my only family left was a distant cousin in Fresno.  My entire family was sent to the north of Poland, to Treblinka, and rest in a mass grave with over a million other people determined to be sub-human by the legal authorities!  I was one of the ‘lucky’ ones and escaped in a revolt while on work detail.  I hid in the countryside until the war was over, living on whatever I could find and terrified of being recaptured.   I became a proud citizen of this land and joined the United States Army as soon as I won my citizenship.  I fought in Korea and have the shrapnel in my body still to show for it.  My medals are in my chest of drawers where I take them out once a year to parade each Veterans Day.  What I would give if just one of my brothers were alive to see that!
 
“My son, his wife and daughter will never know the joys of having a large, loving family gathered for Shabbat.  My lovely granddaughter, Willow, never dressed as Esther on Purim to act out our history for her aunts, uncles and so many cousins, all so long in their graves!
 
“Those men who herded my family into cattle cars were following the law of their land too.  Jews, Gypsies, Slavs, homosexuals, the mentally impaired, Communists and political dissenters were all labeled as sub-human, deserving only to be removed from decent society.” He looked pointedly at Harvey, “You say they are demons, monsters.  So we are to fight them by becoming them?”
 
Harvey had the grace to look abashed but still not convinced as Chaim continued.
 
“I love this country that embraced the starved orphan seeking the safety of a society with a constitution designed to give fairness and justice to even its lowest citizens.  That is the society I put my life on the line for in battle, those are the principles.  We have become so afraid of the so-called monsters among us, who have always been among us, that we have given away our rights and altered the rule of law that has been our foundation ever since those far-seeing men laid them out for the world to marvel over.  A constitution that has been the clarion call for countless patriots to rally behind.  For adopted children such as myself to be willing to die to protect.  We have sold our birthright like Esau of old and for what?  To become a homeland that Himmler himself would feel at home in?”  Chaim was nearly weeping.  “This nation at least was supposed to be different from the old world, the old ways, and yet our fear has led us like sheep to conform to the same old model.”
 
“This isn’t about the American flag, old man!” Harvey was upset to have his patriotism held in question.  “This is a global problem that is being dealt with by all of humanity and that includes us!”
 
“Patriotism is more than putting on a uniform and digging out medals and marching in parades once a year,” Chaim said softly but clearly.  “It is in making certain that the principles all of that represent remains.  That we be a people determined to stay safe but still free and fair to all.  As my beloved mother used to say, ‘if everyone is jumping off a cliff, should you do this too?’, I am saying we need to stop running for the edge and be what we have always claimed to be.”
 
Ira Rosenberg began to look around nervously as his father boldly dug in his heels.  “Papi, please,” he pleaded in desperation, “You’ll attract attention.  Please be still.”  He hoped his father would remember the danger his words were placing them all in, that remnant of family he held so dear. 
 
It was just like the old man to meddle where it wasn’t his battle.  Ira remembered the resentment he had felt as a child whenever Chaim left their comfortable home and his thriving legal practice to head south to ride buses with Dr. King or defend voter registrars in Montgomery.  This was no different.  “So you’re going to jeopardize your family for, what, a bunch of things that aren’t even human?”
 
“How can I be still, my son?”  The elder man felt a tear track down his wrinkled face.  “If enough people--the good, decent majority of German and Polish people--had said such words, done such deeds as the Rabbi and his friends have put in front of us, you would have a family around you to treasure.  You say I might get us in trouble?  We are in trouble, every human on this earth.  This is about family, always has been.  What kind of a father would I be to let the world become such a terrible place for my children and their children?  To let innocents suffer is to let the bullies win and we all lose then, even my own family.”
 
The elder Mr. Rosenberg looked Harvey in the eye and quoted Pastor Niemoller’s famous remark, “In Germany, they first came for the Communists, and I didn’t speak up, because I wasn’t a Communist.  Then they came for the Jews, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a Jew.  Then they came for the trade unionists, and I didn’t speak up because I wasn’t a trade unionist.”He shifted his gaze to an approving Father Mike. “Then they came for the Catholics and I didn’t speak up because I was a Protestant.  Then they came for me and by that time no one was left to speak up.”
 
Harvey Wicks silently left the room, debating whether he should speak up and call the number the TV newsmen had given to report sedition.
 
***

Buffy was glad they were meeting at her house this time instead of the Magic Box.  She felt comforted by her mother’s presence after all they had heard during the announcement.  “Damn that Travers!  Bad enough with whoever is behind all this stuff happening, but he had to do some info dump on a bunch of nervous politicians.  This can’t go well.  Everyone is going to be running around like in some horror movie and pointing fingers at everybody else.  How am I supposed to do my job?”
 
"My dad says there's a meeting at the Synagogue tonight. He's going mostly because my zaide...er... that's my grandfather, is on some committee and Dad's afraid he's going to get in big trouble."  Willow loved and admired her grandfather.  Unlike her parents, he kept an active interest in her life, had even met and liked Tara.
 
Xander frowned in thought.  "Max was going on about some meetings, but I doubt they'd be the kind to interest your grandpa."
 
"You mean the ones over at Dr. Baker's church?” Dawn asked.  “There's some guys from school starting up some youth movement.  They're walking around talking tough and swaggering through the halls."  
 
"What youth movement?"  Joyce looked concerned.
"I don't know.  Some of the kids were talking about it.  They're saying they're going to be some kind of superheroes helping to protect humans when all the trouble everyone expects to happen comes or something like that. They meet at the church."
 
"That's my job, and I've done pretty well with it, if you ask me," Buffy said indignantly.  "What, a bunch of teenagers are going to be the Slayer now?!"  The irony was lost on Buffy as she spoke.  "Do they even know how to kill some of the demons they'll be meeting?"
 
Giles shrugged, "I seriously doubt most of them have thought through any of that."
 
"Speaking of Slayers," Buffy lowered her voice from the angry tones of before.  "Any word on who the new Chosen is now that Faith is..." She couldn't quite bring herself to say the words.
 
"No, not a word.  Also no response yet from my contacts on just who arranged for Faith's demise."  Giles had been hoping that one of the Potentials in hiding had been called because at least then the girl would be safe.
 
"Did any of you hear the other news tonight?"  Tara took Willow's hand and squeezed it reassuringly.  She knew that her girlfriend was worried about her grandfather even while she was proud of him.  "Anyone suspected of harboring a demon is going to be arrested.  They've suspended habeas corpus too.  They're going to allow search and seizures without a warrant or probable cause, if they suspect someone is either a demon or helping one."
 
“Maybe I shouldn’t be seen with any of you lot in the open for a while.  Too many ‘round here know I’m not exactly pulse positive,” Spike offered.
 
"I don't even know why you're here," Xander snarked.  "What, you're suddenly part of the group?"
 
Buffy rolled her eyes and reminded Xander, "You know Spike has been helping for quite a while now."
 
"Yeah, but I still don't get why." Xander looked sullen.
 
Anya looked at her boyfriend in irritation.  "You do too.  You were here last summer when Spike kept Joyce from being killed by those vampires outside her gallery."
 
Joyce smiled at the vampire, "He and I were already starting to be friends before that, but yes, Anya, that did change the dynamics.  Spike is a friend, Xander, and you'll just have to get used to it.  This is my home after all."
 
"So we're just going to risk helping a demon for...HIM?"  Xander looked appalled.  "Color me selfish, but I don't feel like wearing an orange jumpsuit for Spike."
 
"Not askin' for help, git." Spike frowned and fought the urge to leave.  "I’m here tryin' to help you lot." 
 
"Enough in-fighting, gang, we have a lot bigger issues to worry about than who we let in the clubhouse."  Buffy pulled out a sheet of paper with notes she had taken during her conversation with Angel earlier.  "Angel and his group have been helping friendly at-risk demons get papers and make contacts.  There are a few places that are setting up refugee camps as far away from people--human people, that is--as possible.  I sent Joe and Kate and the kids out to him this morning.  Spike…," She glanced over at the still prickly vampire, "You said something about a place you knew?"
 
"My friend Clem was talking ‘bout a bunch of caves in the Cascade mountains in Washington, where a bunch of demons were heading.  Don't know the whole setup, haven't heard from him.  Seemed to think there was room for quite a few though."
 
Spike looked at Xander and decided to take the high road in spite of the hostility of the boy.  "I think you lot need to see the setup I've been workin' on startin' with the crypt.  Got some tunnels and a few hidden spots.  Figure it might come to that, even for all of you, and you need to know your way around.  Maybe the Slayer might come by and have a look-see."
 
Tara spoke up, "Spike's right.  These new laws are going to make it hard for everyone, not just demons.  They're making it an ‘us vs. them’ world and their definition of both isn't necessarily what ours might be."