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Chapter 38
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"How many more boxes?" Imam Aziz was feeling his energy flag a bit.  Allah alone knew how tired Mr. Rosenberg must be at his age!
 
"Not that many, really.  Got everything Mr. McDonald asked for and plenty more besides.  I don't think we can fit in the rest."  Jonathan ran a hand over his forehead, wiping the sweat away before more dripped into his eyes.  He hadn't done this much heavy lifting since Warren had him "help" move his stuff to his mom's basement.  Warren had assumed the role of supervisor while he and Andy had been the Sherpas.  He was glad Andrew was finally away from the bad influence of Warren Mears, the Toxic Tech.
 
Chaim looked at the haul in appreciation, "Think we've got enough to bury these farzeenish?"
 
Jonathan suppressed a giggle at the older man's reference to the Global Human Initiative as monsters, given that was who they claimed to be protecting the world from.
 
"I would guess the answer might be yes.  It is a blessing that Mr. McDonald is on our side, is it not?" Kalil tensed up, having thought he heard a noise coming from bushes nearby.  "I think we might have company," he whispered.
 
"Get behind the wheel and be ready to drive like a madman," Chaim urged his friend.
 
"Jonathan, quickly!  Close the back--get in there yourself if you must.  You can move to the front when we are safely away and can stop for a moment.  It looks like our luck may have run out."
 
Suddenly there was a flurry of activity all around them as black clad soldiers of the GHI began to come out from cover with weapons drawn.
 
"Stop!  Under the authority of the Global Human Initiative acting on behalf of the Global Alliance, present your papers and explain your presence here."
 
Chaim stepped forward even as Kalil released the parking brake and eased the truck into gear.  "What can we do for you, sir?  We're moving some old boxes for the law firm that owns this building."  He patted his pockets as if looking for paperwork.  "I must have left the work order in the cab.  Just one moment and I'll get them."
 
Jonathan eased into the back of the truck as if to straighten the boxes as Chaim inched his way to the front of the vehicle.
 
Chaim made no sudden movements that might draw further suspicion.  "You would think a man my age could retire by now.  Still, I prefer this to greeting customers at a Wal-Mart to make ends meet," he pretended to grumble.
 
"Hey, I know you!," sneered one of the soldiers.  "You're Chaim Rosenberg, the guy who was spouting all that pro-demon crap about Nazis at a meeting before we got a handle on the threat."
 
"Stop moving!  NOW!" another raised voice commanded.
 
Chaim stopped in his tracks just a short distance from the open passenger door.  He tried to make out the face of his accuser.  "Harvey Wicks?  Is that you?  I thought you still had your butcher shop in Sunnydale.  What are you doing in LA, and in uniform no less?"
 
"Not that it's your business, traitor, but one of my sons runs the place now.  Serving humanity is more important work, making the earth ours again.  That shit you were trying to sell helped me decide I had to take a side and, unlike you, I chose my own kind."
 
"You sure he's a sympathizer?" the commander of the group asked.  "Seems a bit long in the tooth to be a real troublemaker or terrorist."
 
"Yeah, I'm sure.  He may not be much for setting explosives or breaking monsters out of cages, but he can sure run his mouth.  Looks like he can move boxes too."
 
"Did you say Rosenberg?" the commander asked.  "Any relation to Willow Rosenberg?"
 
"She is my granddaughter.  Why?  Do you know her?"
 
"I dated a friend of hers for a while until she threw me over for a demon," Finn looked at the trio in disgust.  "Turn off the engine and get out of the truck and keep your hands where I can see them," he ordered gruffly.
 
Chaim locked eyes with Kalil and whispered quietly and quickly, "Mission's what's important.  I'm old, it's my time.  Tell them all I love them."   Then a bit louder to warn Jonathan, "GO! Quickly!"
 
Chaim made a dash for the alleyway next to the warehouse, drawing all eyes on him as the Imam reluctantly but efficiently slammed his foot on the accelerator.
 
Jonathan grabbed the back door of the truck and pulled it closed, hoping against hope that the metal doors would protect against bullets at least a little bit.  "What about Mr. Rosenberg?"
 
"He chose our survival and mission and he will be honored," The Imam replied sadly.  "I wish he had taken the wheel instead of me.  He will be rewarded greatly for his sacrifice though.  Allah, may His name be praised, has special rewards for martyrs in a just cause."
 
They careened down the nearly empty side streets of the industrial district, glad that it was the weekend and not the busy work week.
 
"Keep your eyes open for a place to hide ourselves and the truck.  We will need to find another vehicle and transfer the boxes now that they have seen what we are driving.  We must not let our brother's sacrifice be for nothing."
 
Kalil kept off the major roadways and tried to keep to where there was a bit of overhead cover, should the GHI use a helicopter to try to find them.  Luckily, this part of LA had more than a few streets that still had trees.
 
"There!"  Jonathan yelled.  "To the right!  There's a truck terminal and it looks closed.  We can park between a couple of big rigs and see if we can find something to move the stuff into and get back home."
 
"You are a bright boy, Jonathan.  We must see about yet another theft," the Imam sighed in sorrow.  "I am sure Allah, may his name be praised, will understand such indiscretions."
 
They pulled into the Central Freight terminal and between two eighteen wheelers. Jonathan got out and started to look around for something viable.  Several rows over, he spotted a smaller truck, the sort used for smaller cargo.  He checked the cab.  To his pleasant surprise, he found a clipboard on the driver’s seat.  On the clipboard was the paperwork from the last delivery and a set of keys for the truck.  The driver must have been either forgetful, trusting or in a big hurry to start his weekend.  Bad for him, but oh so good for them.  "Over here!"
 
Kalil had been scoping out the terminal, making certain there was no one else about.  The place appeared to be blessedly deserted with no security or random employee on the premises. With all the social upheaval, lots of jobs were vacant everywhere, especially of the night shift variety.  Kalil was certain that human-based crimes had risen thanks to that. Those statistics were another "fun fact" the authorities didn't want well known.  Heaven forbid anyone think some demons had actually been beneficial to society!
 
The sad and subdued duo transferred the files and discs to the newly appropriated truck and tried to conceal their original vehicle as best as they could before heading back to Sunnydale.  The Imam prayed that there was enough information in the cargo to make it worth the sacrifice of such a fine man as Chaim Rosenberg.
 
***
 
"I think there is something in the files they're bringing back to ensure that last judge is a bit more...um...sympathetic to our side," Lindsey wasn't too comfortable sitting in a church office, even if it was to brainstorm.  Too many years working for the Senior Partners made him fear a random lightening strike.  He looked at the vampire looking cool as a cucumber across the table and wondered why HE wasn't at least itchy.
 
"What about the jurors?"
 
"Well, Mike, I'm not sure.  None of them are what you'd call big players, so there may not be any dirt--at least none that my old bosses would have bothered with."
 
McDonald was glad the priest had told him to just call him by his given name. All the other religious trappings were enough to make his inner child from a "God fearing" upbringing squirm.
 
"No one's that clean,” Spike scoffed.  “Gotta be somethin' naughty in their life to use if you need it.  I've lived long enough to know that I haven't met that many humans who are truly squeaky clean."
 
Father Mike laughed at the vampire's claim.  "Got that right!  Even yours truly.  Whole reason I'm in business."
 
"Maybe I can hack into some sites and see if anything iffy pops up," Willow suggested.  "Not that you'll need to do anything with the information, unless they seem like they're being controlled by the Global guys."
 
"Backup intel--yes, I believe that would be prudent," Giles nodded.  "In the event any such information isn't necessary to ensure that Anya receive a fair trial, we can always destroy anything you might find."
 
"Man, I can't believe all the stuff we've had to do in trying to 'do the right thing' since these guys took over!"  Buffy shivered a bit.  "Blowing up stuff, targeting humans or at least not letting the fact that humans are around stop us, and breaking all kinds of laws including auto theft," she looked pointedly at Spike, then tempered her comment with a smirk.  "And now blackmail!  My mom would be so upset, but then she'd probably join in."
 
"These times call for soul searching and compromise," Father Mike sighed.  "I just go back to the main rule MY boss gave that we are to love one another.  IF what we wind up doing is trying to achieve that, I'm able to sleep nights."
 
"So what's the plan for tomorrow, lawyer man?" Xander wanted to know.
 
Lindsey placed some notebooks in front of Anya's fiancé with his plan of action.  "I'm hittin' them hard on their so-called facts.  Have a nice selection of historians and academics to blow holes in their cause-and-effect scenario. They all have their pet theories, but every one of them will show that there were plenty of contributing factors to all the bloodshed they are trying to blame on Anya.  The law says acquittal if there is a shadow of a doubt.  By the time I'm done, it won't be a shadow; it’ll be full-on nighttime."
 
"Can't wait to get Ahn home where I know she'll be okay.  She's stronger than she looks, but my girl's still pretty fragile at times.  I know she's going nuts being locked up like that too."
 
"We'll get her out and safe soon," Willow laid a consoling hand on her friend's arm.
 
"Demon Girl's a trooper; don't sell her short.  After all, she's been livin' with you all these years," Spike quipped.
 
"Yeah, blood breath, good thing Buffy's the whole platoon!" Xander grinned in return.
 
Buffy felt a warm glow in the vicinity of her heart seeing her oldest male friend and her new lover actually joking with one another.  Then again, maybe it was a sign that they were headed to a major apocalypse.
 
The office phone rang, interrupting their conversation, as Xander and Giles looked over the lawyer's notes with approval. 
 
"St. Jude Thaddeus. Father Mike here, how can I help you?" He listened and paled, shifting his gaze around the table nervously.  "Dear God, I'm sorry to hear that! ... Yes, I'll let everyone know.  Please be careful.  Might be a good idea to take the truck straight to the warehouse and hide it inside.  Yeah, she's here with me now and I'll tell her.  ... Yes, I know you didn't. ...  Don't go thinking like that, Kal!  You know he wouldn't want that.  He'd come to think of you like a little brother, you know; he wouldn't want you to carry that. ... We'll see you soon. Go with God."
 
The priest closed his eyes and gathered his thoughts.  All talk around the table had stopped as everyone clued in that the phone call had been about something bad.
They all looked inquiringly at Father Mike.
 
"I'm afraid I have some bad news.  Seems the Black Shirts of the GHI showed up at that archive as our crew was leaving."
 
"NO!  Were they caught?" Xander felt a bit of guilt thinking their friends might have been arrested or worse while trying to help Anya.
 
"No.  In fact, they have all the files they went after and then some," he cleared his throat and prepared to deliver the bad news.  "Unfortunately one of them had to sacrifice himself so they could get away.  We're not positive if he was captured or...well, I'm sure we'll hear one way or another."  He turned sad eyes on Willow, "I am so sorry, child, but it seems your grandfather chose to prove himself the hero we all knew he was."
 
Willow gasped as tears sprang into her eyes.
 
Father Mike reached over and took her hand as Giles wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  "Keep in mind we don't know what the soldiers did, merely that Chaim drew their attention onto himself so that the others could get away."
 
"Zedye!" she wailed.  Her mind flooded with memories of her loving and gentle grandfather over the years.  He had been the warm place in her home keeping Willow from minding the coolness of her career- and success-obsessed parents.  He had been the heart of her home growing up and now Willow's own heart was breaking at the thought of him gone.