~*~

Spike nearly had released his left foot from its bonds when the box lid was suddenly flung open. Startled, he made a quick kick towards the unknown soldier who was staring in shock at his unexpectedly conscious captive. The soldier took the full
force of Spike’s kick and flew backward so hard that others in the area were taken by surprise.

"Subdue the Hostile, soldier", barked another uniformed man. "He gets loose and the damages will come out of your pay packet. This one can do some costly damage too, from what I hear".

Spike had already fumbled his way out of the container they had transported him in and was attempting to use their surprise to gain a little ground. With only his legs truly free, it wasn’t likely that he’d make it, but he’d faced bigger odds before and won. Too much was at stake not to try.

He felt something pierce his right shoulder just below the blade but kept on running in the direction that led away from his captors. Seconds later, another bolt of pain shot through his left thigh and he looked down to see a tranquilizer dart stuck there.

Quick, he had to be quick, before whatever the darts had in them began to take effect. He had to put distance between himself and the increasingly fuzzy horde of soldiers overtaking him. Spike felt himself stumble, nearly falling. With his hands still secured behind his back, he had no way to rebalance himself and was at great risk of falling on his face.

Just as that realization came to him, Spike felt the blast of the taser hit him and the risk became a reality. He hit the ground full force with no way to break the fall. Before he could try to clamber up again, they were on him like a pack of savage animals, like the crowd in Prague had fallen on Dru.

Spike felt the kicks as they connected with his already sore body. He could feel his ribs as they snapped and smell the blood as it began to flow out of him. Just before Spike slipped into blessed oblivion, the voice of the one in command issued an order saying, "Stand down, soldiers! The doctors want this one intact. He’s not going anywhere."

The soldier boys roughly dragged Spike’s inert body back to the hatch leading to the hidden facility and lowered him into what would become his own private hell.

The next time Spike opened his eyes he found himself staring into the masked face of a middle-aged man in operating scrubs. Panicked, the trussed vampire began to strain against the bonds that held him tightly to a cold metal table.

"Tape the mouth, please, Phelps. I really don’t want to have my eardrums damaged with the screams". The doctor’s voice was far too mild for the harsh words he said and the horror they promised. Before Spike could do his best banshee impression, surgical tape was slapped on his parted lips and he could only make muffled sounds of protest and feeble pulls on his restraints.

His eyes wide in terror, the captive vampire saw the doctor hold up a scalpel and move towards his exposed chest. Spike steeled himself for the pain he knew was coming.

"Doctor, are we to remove and detach all the organs except the heart?" asked one of the assistants. "Won’t they turn to dust when taken out of it? Perhaps we can get all the data we need without actually severing them"..

"Yes, I suppose we can try it that way. We need complete and accurate information, mind. I really don’t know how long organs can remain if removed from one of these things. To tell you the truth, I’ve never worked on one of them. The whole dust issue hasn’t really been addressed".

The scalpel wielding, honey voiced butcher was looming over Spike. "Be sure to take proper measurements and weights, and please make the notes legible. I know we doctors are notoriously poor in the penmanship area, but do try". His detached, professional tone was chilling in the extreme.

Spike felt the sting of the razor sharp blade as it began to open him from chest to abdomen, laying bare his insides to the wonderfully souled humans satisfying their curiosity about evil vampires and their physiology. Even muffled by tape, there was no mistaking the pain-filled howl of protest from the vampire on the operating table. The incisions continued and the howls grew in intensity until finally, thankfully, the darkness claimed Spike once more.

When next he awakened, Spike was on the floor of a cell much like the one he’d inhabited during his former incarceration by the Initiative. He moved his head slowly and saw that they had taken the time to stitch and bandage him at least. He had no way to determine if he had all of his inner parts, but a careful and painful check reassured Spike that his outer parts were all present and accounted for.

He had some dignity left as they had dressed him in light drawstring scrubs. His feet were bare, as was his chest. He hadn’t felt this vulnerable in a century. "Pants are a pansy yellow too, the bastards", Spike thought in disgust.

His head felt like Man U. had been using it for practice and all he really wanted to do was cry. "Bugger that", he chided himself. "Not gonna give ‘em the satisfaction. Take it like a man even if they don’t think I am one. I’m gonna survive this. Then, chip or no chip, I’m takin’ all of ‘em out, startin’ with Finn", he vowed.

The determined vampire must have spoken louder than he thought because a voice responded from the cell next to his. It was a deep, cultured voice with a slight Ano-movic accent.

"Don’t think you’ve got a chip any more, vampire. I heard them say they took it out and were checking to see why it hadn’t killed you. I still wouldn’t count on having any chance at getting out of here, though. I’ve been trying for at least a month and I’m at least four times your size and strength. Whatever they give you to eat comes with a side order of weakness-inducing pharmaceuticals. You get to pick, starve and not heal, or feed and be weak as the kitten you ate last time".

"Bugger!"