Best Laid Plans Part 4
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, I don’t own it. I make no profit off of the following.
John Christian Falkenberg stared around himself in confusion; he was wearing a full combat rig, which included an assault rifle, five clips for it, his sidearm and three clips, two grenades and a map case, plus some personal communication gear. He was wearing his Nomex body armor, and had a helmet clipped to his shoulder. This was one of things that really confused him; last thing he remembered was getting into bed with his wife on New Washington.
But confusion would have to wait, there were scores of small creatures running around causing mayhem and chaos. Stepping into some bushes, with a tree at his back, he pulled his radio out and transmitting said, “This is Legion Six Actual, calling any Legion member, come in.” He got no response. After two minutes of trying he replaced the radio and began looking around for some place to hole up until he could figure out where he was.
Looking around he suddenly stopped, across the street from him was a building marked ‘Post Office’, that wasn’t what stopped him though, flying on a flagpole in front of it, a spotlight illuminating it brilliantly, were the Stars and Stripes, not the Co-Dominium flag.
Needing to check this out he walked out into the middle of the street and looked up, thankfully it was a clear night and he was able to pick out several familiar constellations. There was no doubt, he was back on Earth. How?
Any further thought was dismissed when he heard a scream coming from the next block over. It wasn’t a scream of terror; rather it was a scream of battle. Making sure he had a round in the chamber, Falkenberg gripped his rifle and jogged in the direction of the scream.
Rounding the corner he saw a brunette, tall, dressed in medieval looking leather armor of all things, swinging a sabre, with more than a fair amount of skill, while trying to hold off two huge furry things armed with battleaxes.
Deciding to wonder where all these unknown and obviously hostile aliens had come from later, he raised his rifle and fired one shot over the battlers head; he doubted he would be able to replace any ammo expended so they were going to only get one chance to be smart about this.
The three stopped fighting and stared at him. The brunette recovered first and stabbed the right hand alien with her sabre, all but burying it in its side. It screamed in pain and whirled on the women. Its companion charged Falkenberg.
Shouldering his rifle he put a three round burst into the center mass of the charging creature. For a moment John Christian didn’t think they had any effect and dodged to the right bringing his rifle around to block any blow from the battle axe and wishing he had taken time to fix the bayonet. The creature, however, just kept going in a straight line and crashed to the ground about ten feet behind him.
Turning to see if he could help the woman, he saw a beautiful move with her saber that ended with her opponent’s head leaving its body. She then eyed him carefully, paying particular attention to his rifle.
Suddenly there were screams to their left, a half dozen of the small aliens came tearing around the corner and spotting the duo, they charged.
Falkenberg, seeing that they had been attracted by gunfire so he didn’t think a warning shot would be much of deterrent, lowered his weapon and went to full automatic. The warrior woman pulled a compound bow off of her back and managed to drop two in the time it took him to deal with the other four.
Turning back to the woman he said, “I don’t know if you can understand me, but I think we need to find some place a little quieter and talk.” He had swapped out the clip in his rifle for a full one while he spoke.
Shkai’ra started, he spoke High Kommanzanu? “I understand you,” she replied, rusty after years of disuse. “This way,” she said waving. She had spotted a house with its front door hanging open.
Suddenly everything went bright; she started to turn toward the flash when Falkenberg threw his hands over her eyes. Her first reaction was to stab him, but she quickly realized he may have just saved her sight. After a second he took his hands away with a, “Sorry.”
Shkai’ra stared in shock at the fireball rolling into the sky, “The Phoenix has come,” she said in quiet shock as she made a sign of protection on herself.
Flakenberg was surprised, while looking like a barbarian, she seemed to know what the explosion was. He didn’t blame her for being worried. He didn’t think the blast was nuclear, the initial flash hadn’t been bright enough; though he didn’t think they should take any chances. He glanced at the house the swordswoman had indicated, but saw that the basement extended a good three feet out of the ground. If there was going to be fallout, they’d need more protection than that, and he lacked even a dosimeter to see if they were picking up rads right now. With nuclear dampening fields, atomic weapons had not been a realistic battlefield weapon for some time. Judging by the technology evident in the cars, he was back somewhere in the late twentieth century, there should be fallout shelters still around, and they should have Geiger counters to see how big an amount of trouble they were in, if any. It would also give him time to try to work out how he had gotten here, into the past.
“I don’t suppose you know where a fallout shelter would be, do you?” He asked his companion.
“Fallout Shelters?” a voice in a vaguely Eastern European accent said. “I have all kinds of maps to fallout shelters!”
Flakenberg turned, and while he didn’t bring his rifle up to point at the newcomers, he didn’t point it that far away from them either. His companion notched an arrow into her bow.
There were two of them, a shorter male and taller female. They were both dressed in Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts. Both also had on wide sunhats and dark sunglasses, despite the fact that it was night out. Both had black hair, and the shorter male had a thin mustache, “You bets you, I have maps to all of Sunnydale’s finest fallout shelters, yours for five dollars each!”
Looking at his ally, Flakenberg decided she had less of a chance to have US currency on her than he did, well judging by her bow she had been doing some judicious looting, he doubt she’d recognize paper money as having any real value. He reached into his pouch and produced a coin. “This is a New Washington ten dollar coin. It’s not US currency, but it is fine silver.”
The black haired man with the thin mustache replied, “Well it’s a strange night out, and silver is silver. I’ll give three maps for it.”
Flakenberg flipped him the coin, “Done.”
Shkai’ra looked at him like we was nuts, they could have just taken the maps.
After the exchange the two strangely dressed map merchants faded into the bushes.
It took Falkenberg two minutes to place them on the map and find the nearest shelter, it was in the high school’s basement and motioning to his companion, they began moving in that direction.
They were no more out of sight when a figure dressed in a brown body suit with a truly hideous hair style stepped out of the shadows and tssked at himself. All this violence, even he couldn’t stop it all, still he could repair some of the damage, which would have to do. He waved his hands and he, and all eight of the bodies vanished. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Mayor Richard Wilkens stopped running after a block and a half, and two corners. The Man with no Name stopped and started to scan around them to see if anything followed them. When the flash lit up the sky above the roof, he started to turn and was tackled to the ground, by his minion. The blast wave passed over them an instant later with a roar. The ground shock followed a moment later and bounced them around all over the ally. After it had passed the Man with no Name glanced around, surprised that the buildings surrounding them were still standing.
The Mayor picked himself up, he wanted to reprimand his lackey, as being thrown to the ground in an alley was not something he enjoyed; it was grimy and disgusting. He really wanted to go home, shower and change, but, they were three quarters of the way to Ethan’s so, he would just channel his rage. He headed out of the alley, hoping that whatever had caused that blast would be gone when he broke the spell. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>
“So, do you all know what is going in” The driver of the Mustang asked.
“I’m afraid not,” Steed replied, “I suddenly found myself in that art gallery with the Dracula’s and Colonel Kerensky. Thank you for the ride. I’m John Steed. My companions are Dr. Emma Peel, and Colonel Natasha Kerensky.”
“Daisy Duke,” The blonde replied. “I just found myself on the streets; the car was parked across from me with the door open and motor running. No one was around so I, ah, borrowed it.”
The red-headed colonel did not seem overly concerned, neither did Steed’s other companion. “Just as long as you put it back where you found it,” Steed assured her.
Daisy was about to reply when the night lit up. Everyone in the car stared in shock as a huge fireball rolled into the night sky.
Glancing around Steed saw they were driving past what looked like a school, usually they had fallout shelters, “It might be a good idea to get off the street for a little while,” Pointing at the school, “That might be a good place.” No one argued.
Samual Zabutu ran through the night. He ducked behind a couple of corners at random and seemed to have lost his possessed Slayer. Looking around he realized that he had also managed to lose himself. Easing alongside of a building he saw that the streets were loaded with a number of different demon species. Checking himself over he found himself unarmed. He wasn’t completely sure were Rupert Giles would be. He had his address, but no real knowledge of the town. Reluctantly, he decided he needed to go back to his motel room, both to get a map of Sunnydale, and to procure a weapon or two so he could defend himself. He could only hope that Captain Dupree had taken herself elsewhere.
He cautiously approached the motel and hid for a good ten minutes hoping to spot if the Captain was still in the area, her white uniform should stand out. Not seeing her, Zabatu cautiously moved toward his room. He was about to slip over the windowsill into the room when he heard from behind him, “There you are, I was looking all over for you, now, where were we?”
Zabatu turned, the mad woman had been hiding behind a garbage dumpster, she was between him and the road.
She was holding the cutlass against her leg as she eased forward. “It will be a lot less painful if you just answer my questions.”
“I told you the truth,” Zabutu stammered, eyes darting left and right, looking for an opening, and not finding one.
“Probably,” the dark beauty replied, smiling in a way that made Zabutu doubt she was fully sane, “But it’s fun to be sure.”
Zabutu charged the girl, she didn’t seem to possess the Slayer’s power, or at least she didn’t seem too. He found she didn’t need to either, Zabutu found himself face first on the macadam of the parking lot with his right arm held up between his shoulder blades, just past the dislocation point. Zabutu screamed in agony.
“Now, how did I get here?” his tormentor purred, not really caring about the answer.