2015.08.15 - Dislocation: The Misadventures of Faith and Team Alpha

**Emitter:** Staff

*Faith investigates The Nemeton and finds rather more than she bargained for...*

August 14, 2015

Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve

She hasn't been able to track down the wolf. Or the rather more, shall we say, interesting *cat*. So, Faith's going to poke around a little bit herself. This nemeton isn't quite a hellmouth. It's not as dangerous in and of itself. It's dangerous in the ways it might be used. It's dark, and she makes her way towards it by the light of her phone, frowning a little. This looks like a place she'd expect to find vampires...

And yet, as Faith draws near, there is an aura of powerful and ancient primal magic suffusing the air. The place fairly *thrums* with life, vibrant and vital. There's not even a whisper of power that suggests the undead--nearly its opposite. This aura of power is centered around the tree stump in the clearing, which seems to call out, beckoning anyone who is mystically aware toward it. Faith can easily feel its song.

And, judging by the shadowy figures huddled around it, lit by a circle of floodlights, she's not alone.

"I need to get Willow out here," she murmurs...before she realizes she's not alone. She snaps the phone light off immediately, stepping back behind a tree. Not vampires - *they* can see in the dark. So can wolves, so she's pretty sure it's not that McCall guy's pack...

The voices aren't chanting or invoking fell powers. In fact, two of them seem to be bickering over pizza toppings. Apparently, there's talk of someone going into town for food.

Not exactly your typical demons, then.

In the circle of light, once Faith's eyes adjust, she'll see a few people--three women, three men, looks like--working the circle. They also seem to operate entirely in pairs. One male-female duo is crouched over the stump, looking to be talking in low tones. Another pair walks a circuit just outside the circle of light, each carrying an assault rifle. The last two stand over a folding table, looking at some books and papers spread out on it. They're the ones arguing idly about the pizza.

"I can't stand pineapple on pizza, though," says the male.

"Your lack of taste isn't really my problem," says the female. "Everyone else agreed. You can pick it off."

They're all dressed in drab, non-descript clothing--very likely second-hand, and probably disposable, as if they expect that they might get dirty. Of course, they *are* working in the middle of the woods at night, so it's not hard to believe it could happen.

Faith Lehane frowns. She stays put and listens. The assault rifles are, of course, enough to give even a fully trained Slayer pause...she's not bullet proof, after all. Her eyes flick over the group, assessing them. Do they carry those rifles like they know what they're doing?

Based on their posture and motions, they're probably ex-military, but the others don't appear to be armed. Each of the two guards has a pistol in a hip holster, as well as a large survival knife, in addition to the big rifles.

Okay. Two ex mil guys...and four people doing research. It's clear to her that they're about to use the nemeton for something. Probably not something good...but even Faith isn't stupid enough to go charging in on this. No. She's waiting. They're about to send somebody into town for food. That might be an opportunity.

And after a short while, the wait pays off. The male of the pair at the table, who seems to have drawn the short straw, takes what sounds like a pair of car keys and exits the circle of light, headed more or less in Faith's direction. The others continue as before, though the woman at the table picks up a book and goes to crouch by one of the floodlights, presumably to see better as she reads.

How much attention is he paying? Is he going to notice the fact that there's a slayer padding quietly after him? Faith's not actually revealing herself yet. She COULD grab him...but right now she doesn't *know* they're bad guys yet, and Angel's disapproving voice gets between her and doing what she really wants to do. The memory of it, that is.

He's paying attention, but he's also clearly not a survivalist. The guy moves more like a librarian than a fighter, and the way he tromps through the woods makes Faith's job fairly easy. Especially when he pulls out a cell phone and clicks on the flashlight.

And...Faith grins briefly, then slips away through the woods. She's used to night patrols, once her eyes adjust, and she's got that bit of speed. She's bent on getting to the road before he does...and quietly.

Not hard to do, since he's more concerned with not tripping over rocks in the dark than being quiet *or* hurrying. The sounds of the work crew back at the side fade away, though, as Faith stalks her quarry.

And once she gets back to her bike...she's going to be on one knee next to it. Last time she had bike trouble, a cat stopped to help her. That was real trouble and this is fake, but let's see what he does...

When the guy's light touches Faith and the bike, he pulls up short in surprise. It only takes him a moment to recover, and once he does he's wearing a warm smile that would look at home on the face of anyone's favorite next-door neighbor. "Oh! Hi, there," he greets her. "Thought I was all by myself out here! You having some trouble with your bike, miss?"

"Yeah. Having some issues with the chain again. I need to take it in." She shoots him an apologetic look. "Didn't think I'd find anyone all the way out here." Fishing, but she's playing even more of a bimbo than Buffy in her cheerleader days, sounding very relieved to see somebody.

"Well, I was just out lookin' for my dog," the man says with a rueful smile that would pass for absolutely authentic if Faith didn't know better. "I'm on a family trip through town, and I'm afraid ol' Buster got off his leash." The dog's name is probably the weakest link in the story, probably a spur-of-the-moment improvisation. "I don't know much about bikes, but I'm parked nearby if you want a lift to town?"

"Alright. I can leave it here and come back with a tool kit, get it moved that way. What color's your dog?" Hey, she might have seen it. Or maybe he's going to say it's grey and wolflike, around here...

"Golden retriever," he answers readily. "He had on a red collar with a nametag and license, but I'm worried he might run into a mountain lion or something." He waits for Faith to fall into step beside him before he continues on his way. "So what brings you out here so late?"

"Short cut," she says, ruefully. "Made for a long delay, didn't it." She does indeed fall into step. Okay. He's not bad, even if he was a bit off on the name. But she doesn't have him where she wants him. Yet.

"Well," the guy says, his posture completely relaxed as they walk along--nearly too at ease, actually, for someone with a missing pet, "I saw a mechanic's shop in town. Can't remember what street. Would a service station be enough? I don't really know the area too well."

"I saw a mechanic's shop too. I can find it if you can get me back to civilization." Now. Where's his car? They're probably far enough away now, and he does seem very relaxed.

The car is parked plainly enough down a small dirt road, not far from the preserve's border, which runs along a dry creek bed. It's just a small compact, non-descript and clearly not a rental, and as he approaches it he takes out the keys. "Well, here we go," he says, tapping the button to kill the alarm and unlock the doors.

"Here we go," she repeats, smiling winningly. He still seems pretty relaxed. Anything unusual about the car...or, well, its contents, is taken in quickly. What state are the plates?

The plates are from California, and the car looks, upon closer inspection, used-new. They probably bought it for this job, and not too long ago. The man heads for the driver's side door, reaching to open it, and calls over his shoulder, "Well, hop in!" Again, he may be a good actor, but situation awareness doesn't seem to be his thing.

Faith Lehane hops in. Yeah. This guy has no situational awareness whatsoever. And once they're in the car? NOW she has him where she wants him. True, he's getting in the driver's side, but...

The guy pulls the door shut, then slides the key into the ignition and starts it up. He turns a little smile on Faith, then reaches the put the car into gear. Either he plans to make good on his promise to take her back to town, or he's going to play the gambit out a while longer.

"Now...what about your dog?" she asks, as if abruptly remembering the animal. Push. Pushing him just a little bit. He probably thinks she...he *hopefully* thinks she's only what she seems to be. A slightly lost young woman.

Shaking his head a bit, the man says, "Well, I didn't find him in the woods. My wife's still looking over in town, but she hasn't texted me back with any news. But it's getting late, and someone needs to get back to check on the kids."

Oh, he's good. He's very good indeed. "I can keep my eyes open for him, I suppose." She's starting to feel tense, though. She can take this guy any time she wants to...and now's probably the time to make her move, one hand slipping into her jacket, closing on a knife she's got in there. Not pulling it out just yet...

The guy turns his head to look over his shoulder, then, as he backs out of the drive for the main road. His eyes are off of Faith, now, and the car's still moving slowly...

"Actually, I think this has gone far enough." The knife slipping out of her pocket. "Stop." Oh, this is a twist. Usually it's the guy picking up the pretty girl who's planning something.

The guy freezes as soon as the knife appears, his hand still on the gearshift, ready to put the automatic transmission into "drive." He turns to blink at Faith and, still playing the role, says, "Okay... okay, I get it. My wallet's in my jacket pocket. The keys are in the ignition. You can have anything you want, just--please don't hurt me. I have a family!"

"The only thing I want is the truth. What you and your friends are up to." Her tone is quite calm. The guy might be somebody she has to apologize to after this, after all.

The man gives Faith a long, silent look, and then he carefully shifts the car into park. He raises both his hands, offers her that same warm smile, and says, "I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about, so either take the car and go... or cut my throat... or whatever it is you plan to do. But I have nothing else to say."

"Was a time I'd have cut your throat just on the assumption you're up to something up there I need to stop." She smiles. "I'm being nice." He clearly has no clue who she is...and she's not playing that card just yet.

"You've been to the site?" the man asks, frowning. "Well. It makes no difference. You're too late to do anything about it now. Once the reserve power sources are secure--which will be any day now--there's absolutely nothing you can do."

"You might be surprised at that." Nope. She's not saying who she is. "So this is your warning. If you mean harm to *anyone*..." She's already moved to unlatch the door so he can't central lock her in. "If you're here to summon a demon, if you're here to..." She smiles. "...bring ANY harm to ANYONE then...then it won't be me you have to worry about." She's being good. She's not hurting him.

The man shakes his head. "Of course you'd think that. But you have no idea--" He cuts off as they both clearly hear it: from the direction of the Nemeton, a burst of rapid gunfire, then a second. Then, a male scream of what sounds like pure terror. The man's eyes widen, and he curses under his breath.

"I'd say tell me, but..." She's out of the car and running at full speed towards the Nemeton. Full SLAYER speed. Unless he's more than he's shown so far, he's not going to be able to keep up with her. The but obviously means "I think that's more important right now."

When Faith arrives on the scene, she sees... nothing. Well, not nothing; the Nemeton is still there, its tree stump intact. But the floodlights are gone. The people are gone. There's no trace of anything, except... is that moonlight glinting off the stump itself?

Faith Lehane approaches warily. That scream, the sound of gunfire...yeah. She's being very careful here, but she's got to check out the stump. The knife's still in her hand, but tucked against her arm...after all, she wasn't sure what she'd find here. Dark hair flows over her shoulders as she moves to examine the stump.

It *is* light, but not moonlight. There's a wisp of something silver at the stump, almost like a mote of smoke rising from a crack in the wood, like something rising from below...

And that's when a hand--female, strong, *inhumanly* strong--clamps down on Faith's shoulder from behind and a low, husky voice hisses at her ear, "What's this? A slayer? Well, we can't have that!" And that impossible strength lifts Faith like a mere doll, tossing her out of view, letting the darkness of the forest swallow her up. The shadowy form--definitely female, but hard to make out--follows after her, still speaking in a conversational tone. "I'm sorry, my child, but meddling... simply cannot be tolerated."

Elsewhere...

It's a dimly lit room, filled with people in casual business attire, each crouched over a laptop screen and wearing a headset. One of them suddenly looks up, a fresh-faced young woman who looks every inch the intern. "Ma'am?" she calls over to another woman, older, who stands watching a bank of monitors along one wall. "We've lost contact with alpha team."

The standing woman gives a slow nod, observing as a point of light begins flashing, not quite in focus, on one of the monitors. "Noted. An acceptable loss, though. The site... is active."

And, looking over her shoulder, the focus is now clear: the blinking point of light on the screen represents a name, flashing on a map of California.

Beacon Hills.