Eleven hours later we pulled into the parking lot of the Newark International Hilton. Boyer grabbed our bags while I checked us in. At dinner Boyer grilled me about Wes.
"So he's a Watcher like Mister Giles?"
"Kind of. He always toed more closely to the party line however. Me and Faith kind of broke him of that habit though. He's still a lot more traditional and not so much with the hands on as Giles is. Before we kind of blew up the Mayor, he headed back to London and has been doing his part to reform some of the more primitive attitudes of the Council."
"So he's not as much of a fighter?"
"Not in the same way Giles is, he can fight sure, but he's pretty much a words and magic kind of guy. He's supposed to be a pretty good wizard now."
"It feels weird working with magic Buff."
"It feels weird for the Council to have a Slayer as a soldier let alone two of us. Look at it from Wes's perspective."
"Yeah, I suppose you're right."
"Of course I'm right. I'm the officer darn it!"
"Of course ma'am."
"You ma'am-ed me again! You are so going to pay in the training pit."
"Oh god I'm so fucked..." Boyer moaned like a little baby. You'd think a Ranger Tabbed high speed low drag type like him could take a little thumping?
"And the moral of this story is?"
"Never ever ma'am you."
"Exactly! Now are you going to finish those fries?"
"Will it keep me out of the pit if I say no?"
"Why no Buffy...Would you like them, most stylish member of the United States Army?"
I laughed, "Watch the flattery...but not too close."
We finished our meals and hit the rack.
Wes's flight was arriving at 0900 so we made sure to get there early and scope out the gate. Our newly issued badges got us past the TSA dweebs and we settled in, looking as Federal Agent as humanly possible. The plane arrived on time and we got up to meet the passengers on the jetway. Wes was in First Class so he got off fairly quickly and did a pretty humorous double-take when he saw me in a suit and sunglasses.
"Mister Wyndam-Price?" Boyer asked, "I'm Agent Boyer, this is Agent Summers."
"Buffy? I wasn't expecting you."
"It's okay Wes I'm frequently overlooked these days. Come on, let's get your bags, and then you can tell me what kind of hell is potentially raining down on us. 'kay?"
"Alright. I thought you were in the Army though? Not an agent of some sort."
"Shhh, we're undercover," I stage whispered. "There's a little thing called the Posse Comitatus Act. It prevents the Army from performing law enforcement duties on US Territory without an act of Congress. Since the two of us are now technically FBI, we don't have to worry about it if things go horribly horribly wrong."
"I see...I think."
"So what's the dealie-thing Wes?" time to get down to the mission.
"Really? All these years of college and military experience, and you still talk like that?" or not.
"Confidentially Mister Wyndam-Price, I think she mainly does it to annoy our boss and the Cali-speak selector gets stuck so she can't stop. I'm pretty sure she's mostly fully capable of speaking like a normal human if she tries."
"Hey!" I tried to sound seriously aggrieved.
"An excellent observation Agent Boyer. Please call me Wesley."
"I'm paid to keep her out of trouble Wesley, and call me Standish."
"That, I'm afraid Standish, is a thankless hopeless task."
"Don't I know it Wesley..."
"Hey!" aggrieved voice activate!
"Sorry ma'am. I'm simply giving necessary mission critical information to the civilian asset."
"You know Standish, that's an interesting color of red she's turning. I've seen her make Rupert hit that one only a few times."
"Rupert is Mister Giles right? Well I've seen her make our boss, a General, hit that one more than once. Granted he is a pretty emotional guy."
"You both know 'she' is standing here and can wad you up and fit you both into the same lunchbox without a shred of remorse...Right?" my voice had gone past aggrieved and was impinging on applied imminent violence.
"A coherent sentence Standish. A miracle occurs!"
"I think you're right Wesley. I'd better write this down."
I sighed. Against a united front like this I stood no chance in the snark wars, "What are we looking for Wes? What's the exact mission?"
To Wes's credit, he switched straight to business, "We received word from the Devon Coven that a few sources of power had been moved from their resting place in Greece. The Coven managed to track them across the Mediterranean and well into the Atlantic before the cumulative interference from ley line crossings disrupted their spell. We did manage to locate the vessel they were traveling on however and it is supposed to make port in New York tomorrow."
"So you want us to hit the ship tonight?" I asked, "It could be tight but it's possible. Boyer, have you ever done a ship assault?"
"Me? Only touched on it in CQB training. The 10th doesn't really go in for amphibious stuff. Not a whole lot of mountains on the surface of the ocean."
"Actually there are Mister Smarty Pants, they're called islands. However, I see what you're getting at though. We could still fake it if we got the deck plans."
"Buffy," Wesley broke in, "stealing them from the ship would normally be an excellent idea, albeit slightly deranged and dangerous. In this instance, without the proper handling, the items could detonate. If that happens the energy release could easily produce a tidal wave that would swamp the entire eastern shore of your country and cause great damage to Ireland, Iceland, and the Iberian Peninsula as well."
"Wes, what are these items?"
"Six of Zeus's Thunderbolts."