Large PrintHandheldAudioRating
Twisting The Hellmouth Crossing Over Awards - Results
Rules for Challenges

Without Mercy Or Remorse

StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking

Summary: Xander's Soldier Memories are more than just memories - they're from a still-living person.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Action > Author: Tom ClancyAnimeRoninFR18640,552154940,52416 Aug 0416 Aug 04Yes
CoA Winner

Without Mercy Or Remorse

Without Mercy Or Remorse

Author: Anime Ronin

Rating: R (for swearing, violence and gore)

Summary: What if Xander dressed as the Soldier, but said Soldier’s old mission and skills came back to the forefront of Xander’s mind?

Disclaimer: I own nothing but a copy of Queen’s ‘It’s A Kind Of Magic’ – Don’t sue.

Crossover: Yes, with Tom Clancy (the title should give the Soldier’s name away)

Feedback: Yes please.

AN: Anyone who has a problem with the killing of people with souls, go ahead and hit the ‘BACK’ button right now – people that the law can’t touch will be fair game in this story, much as they were in the book (though in the book, he was a man on a mission).

AN2: (to head off several comments from later in the story) No, Xander is not schizophrenic nor does he have split personalities – he and Alexander are one in the same, it’s just that Xander is more capable of dealing with things on the personal level while Alexander is able to deal with things on the professional level.

Part 1

It had been two weeks, fourteen days and nights, since the Hell-o-ween incident of 1997, and Xander Harris had not slept a restful wink since forty-eight hours after the incident; memories assaulted him from whomever the Soldier had been, but more importantly memories of what had happened after it all and that he was still alive … and working for the Central Intelligence Agency. Hellish memories of missions gone wrong, missions gone partly right and missions that never went at all flooded his field of vision in his mind’s eye ever time he shut his physical eyes, but so did the teachings and discipline of the man known in the field as ‘Snake’. Those teachings had been what had led him to do what he was currently doing - building a screw-on suppressor for a .45 Government Issue converted to a .22 with a hand-sewn, screwed-into-place brass-catcher / bag. Snake had been adamant against drug dealers back in the day, and people whom harmed others were always at the top of his shit list, just as they were always at the top of Xander’s shit list as well.

The suppressor was actually a set of metal cans, each progressively smaller in diameter than the previous one, with holes drilled in the sides to create baffles to trap the air displaced by the either super-sonic or sub-super-sonic projectile leaving the firearm in baffles, and the last one was just taken out of the machining metal lathe that was in the local metal-working shop, a shop that he had broken into several times already – first to tap the slide of the gun to accept screws to attach the brass-catcher, then to thread the barrel of the gun to accept the suppressor, but by far it was the suppressor that had taken the most amount of time (machining the internal ‘baffles’ had taken just over an hour, then he had to cut and thread a screw-on cover). Finally, though, it was over and with a quick test, he was satisfied that his new toy didn’t rattle, wouldn’t be too obtrusive or, thanks to the darkness of the finish he had put on the outer ‘can’, could not be readily seen if hidden properly.

It vaguely disturbed him, though, with how calmly he had come up with his plan of action – Soldier knew all too well about human evil, but had only recently (to him it was recently – 1988) found out about demons and such, but had also come up with some interesting things to kill them with … and had found people who made such types of things out on the west coast. But to buy those things, one needed money, and money was made when brains and ingenuity were merged into a good idea and a solid plan to fulfill that idea; with some blessed .22 rounds, along with the suppressor to keep nosey people away, he could remove Vampires in their lairs without too much hassle and then clean out the lair and sell off what he wanted to sell for maximum profit.

Shaking off the disturbed feeling, he shut down the lathe and cleaned the surrounding area of the metal shavings; the people who owned the metal shop probably didn’t know that he was doing this, but he felt obligated to try and leave it as he found it every time he did use it and leave money for the material used. That done, he fit the suppressor onto the gun and, after making sure that there was a full mag in and a round chambered, he walked out of the machine shop, locking the door as he did, heading for home in hopes that both of his parents were too far into their nightly drunken stupor to realize that he was back … another something that he would have to take care of and very soon.


“Another one?” Kate Lockley looked down at the murder scene, another double homicide involving local drug runners as the victims.

“Same MO, ma’am, except for several key differences – he wrapped their hands in electrical wire, left their bling, even went to so far as to take their ID’s, but the cash is gone, ma’am.” The officer who had made the discovery flipped through his notes, “Nobody saw anything, of course, and nobody heard anything.”

Kate looked at the bullet holes in the first vic’s forehead, “Is this a .22?”

“Yes, that’s what it looks like, but something like a .22 can be heard for nearly a block, especially with the echoes of an alley, so why didn’t anyone hear anything?”

“Because these two were as bad as they get on the streets, Officer.” Both looked over to see a Gang Squad Detective, Detective Rivas, walking forwards with two folders, “I recognize them both, one Martino Nevaro and Miguel Sanchez; I had cases on both of them but no evidence that couldn’t be argued as suspect. Whoever did this did us all a favor, but it is a shame that murder is still a crime is situations like this.”

“Third killing in as many shifts and all you can say is that it’s a shame that murder is still a crime?” Kate looked at him oddly, “I’m going to find this guy and put him behind bars, Rivas.”

“Not before about half of the people around here call him a Saint and the other half offer to pin a medal on him, Lockley,” Rivas snapped at her. “These two pieces of trash were like Gotti was out in NYC – made of Teflon because nobody will speak against them out of fear of reprisal from these two or their bosses, the 187’s.” He sighed, mopping his face with his free hand, “Look, do yourselves and favor and just write this one up and drop it into that same file you have for all those runaways from Sunnydale – it’s better that this one never see the light of day.” That said, Rivas walked, but Kate just stood there fuming.

“Get me a ballistics off of those slugs, Officer, because I am not letting this one go.”

“It’s gonna be tough, Detective Lockley, because .22’s are a soft head and deform easily.” He wrote it down in his notebook, though, as the ME’s came in with a pair of stretchers and body bags.


From his perch on the railing from the roof of the adjacent building, Alex smiled and began to walk away, secure in the knowledge that he had left no evidence behind in the murder of two murdering, drug-selling, child-killing pieces of human trash. Regardless of what Buffy always said, just because someone had a soul didn’t mean that they were a good person, and those two were proof of it.

Over the past day and a half he had been in LA, he’d hit three such small groups of people with a different MO each time – first was made to look like a robbery gone bad, then the second was a pure hit with everything taken, and this one was supposed to be the same, but he heard several sets of footsteps coming so he settled for cash and ID. With cash and pawned jewelry alone he had just north of thirty grand in cold hard cash, six wallets to hand over to Willy, who would buy them for a set price to sell on the open market, several pieces that he could convert or dump and a new Game Boy that he’d picked up off of one of the perps (he’d keep it to blow off classes that he really didn’t need to pay attention in anymore).

It had been a full month since he had finished his suppressor and had started hunting in Sunnydale for mostly testing purposes on said suppressor and his blessed ammo, finding that it worked very well as far as sound suppression went, but after a while he needed a caliber with a little more power to get the job done, so he’d upgraded his demon hunting weaponry to a Government Issue chambered for .38, which worked much better than a .45, which ended up blowing through demons nine times out of ten. For human scum, however, he kept the .22 around. In that month, though, there had been some other changes on the front of the Scoobies – Giles’ past had come out, Ms. Calendar had been ousted as a spy on ‘Angelus’ to make sure that he suffered, Dawn’s ‘secret’ crush on him had been exposed when her diary had shown ‘Mrs. Dawn Harris’ written over and over again, but one of the funnier ones had been the clash of the Summers over Mr. Gordo.

“That reminds me.” Sliding down the fire escape quickly, he hit the pavement of the alley with only a slight ‘thump’ and began walking away, wondering just what he would get Dawn as far as a stuffed animal went while in LA. He walked down several blocks, into a pre-determined store and after a few minutes of searching found the appropriate animal, buying it with a smile – Willow and Buffy would probably pissed as all hell at him for buying the animal, but Dawn would probably find it too funny as it was one of her favorite characters from The Lion King.

After his little stop, he went to the closest affiliated bank and deposited the money he had obtained with no questions asked, as they were probably used to dealing with drug dealers – this disturbed him to no end as he left the bank with his deposit slip with his current balance of $75,000, which was enough for the down payment on his new abode. Tony and Jessica Harris had been taken out of the equation by two separate sources – Tony by the police after a few ‘unconfirmed’ sources had come forwards with allegations and proof of spousal and drug abuse and Jessica had been taken into counseling for years of physical, drug and alcohol abuse; when the Sunnydale Police, of all people, drug Tony out of the house kicking and screaming, Alexander had been waiting for him with a cocky smile and a video camera to immortalize the moment even as Detective Frank Stein read him his rights. The others had been floored about the truth of what had gone on within the Harris Household for years, but most of the SDPD knew who the ‘unnamed’ source was and knew that he had changed into one very dangerous player, especially after one little incident where Alexander saved a rookie from a ‘gang member of PCP’ with his bare hands.

(AN: No, I am not trying to make X into some sort of super being, but I am clearing up some of the numerous loose ends that would come back to bite him in the ass later on, him and the others)

Making quick time back to his low-rent motel room, he quickly packed and went to the bus station to catch his bus to Sunnydale – he needed to get his license, a set of wheels and his own place now that he had put the old home up for sale (he’d been legally emancipated by the courts) while he stayed with the Summers women for the next week – Dawn and Joyce seemed to enjoy his presence, but his now-habitual morning workouts / ‘the daily dozen’ seemed to rub Buffy the wrong way, especially when he kicked her out of her rack at 0630 every morning she got back early from her patrol.

With a grin on his face, he grabbed the sack containing Dawn’s new stuffed toy and left the room with a slight chuckle.


“This is sick, Xander,” Buffy stated flatly as Dawn pranced around holding her new stuffed animal. “Couldn’t you get a lion or that pig?”

“Why Buffy, do you have something against Hyenas?” He gave her the most shit-eating grin on the planet as Dawn erupted into a very Hyena-esque cackle, the stuffed ‘Ed’ doll doing so a half of a second later when she pressed his paw. He had slipped back from Alexander to Xander once around his Dawn Patrol and Joyce, knowing that they would be more at ease around him like that.

“Seek help, Harris,” she growled even as Joyce took a picture of Dawn and her Hyena cackling in time with one another.

“Maybe we can get a group discount, Buff,” he grinned even more as she snagged her slice of plain yellow cake with her fingers and bit into it savagely. It was odd that Dawn didn’t like chocolate cake that much, which had set Buffy on edge as she was starting to go through chocolate withdrawal.

“So, how was Los Angeles, Xander?” Joyce sat down next to him while Dawn went off to terrorize both Willow and Giles with her new Ed The Hyena doll.

“Very informative, Joyce, and somewhat profitable.” He had told them that with his new emancipation and some asset from his portion of the selling of the family house, he’d gone out and made a little money. In truth, he’d been able to pull down over ten grand on the ID’s alone that Willy had bought and then sold to several people who needed new ones.

“Well, that’s good to know, Xander,” Joyce said with a warm smile, pulling him into a quick hug that made Buffy squawk as Xander gave her a playful and sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Be careful, Xander, I may take that as an invitation of some kind.”

He waggled his eyebrows theatrically, “Really? What would happen if you did?”

She gave him a smile that was heavily laced with more than a little bit of flirting, “Would you like to find out?”

“MOM!” Buffy and Dawn both screeched in unison while Willow did her best not to laugh, Giles coughed politely in amusement and even Jenny, who had apparently just shown up, had a slightly amused look to her face, “GET AWAY FROM XANDER / MY XANDER!”

Buffy then looked over at Dawn, “YOUR Xander? He’s w-a-a-a-a-ay too old for you.”

Dawn pressed the paw of her Hyena and glared at her sister, “Is the name ‘Angel’ ringing any bells, bottle blonde?”

The two went back and forth for several minutes even as Xander motioned Jenny off to one side, Xander slipping into the background and Alexander coming to the forefront, “Ms. Calendar, a word, if you please.”

“Yes, Xander?”

“First, I need to know about Angel, I mean, what kind of threat is he if he loses his soul? Second, how would he lose said soul? Lastly, if that soul is lost, can it be replaced?”

She looked vaguely worried at the directness of the questions and seemed to fumble for a moment but then regained her mental footing, “Well, I am not sure about the second or third, but as to the first, he is a Master Vampire that many seek to emulate, so I would say that he would be very dangerous.”

“Find out on the second and third, Jenny – I’ve got a bad feeling that we’ll need every scrap of information in the near future about him and others.”

She looked alarmed, “Are you sure about this?”

He shrugged, “Like I said, it’s only a bad feeling, but in a situation like that, information could be key to keeping us alive.” Nodding to her, he left a worried gypsy woman and went back to where the two younger Summers women were still arguing.

“Please, I could have him in a heartbeat if I wanted to, Dawn,” Buffy said snidely.

“Yet you haven’t taken him up yet, so he’s fair game.”

“What about Willow? Maybe she wants him for herself?”

Dawn snorted even as Willow blushed for being brought into the conversation / argument, “She’s had over three years to get him, Buffy, and she hasn’t so he’s still fair game.”

Feeling froggy, he hopped into the debate, “Don’t I get a say in whom I go to?”

They both turned and said, in stereo, “NO!”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the Soldier begin to chuckle.


{Next Day: After School – Computer Lab}

“I am still not sure whether or not to trust your ‘gut’, Xander, but it appears that it was correct about Angelus and his soul curse.” Jenny slid a few papers over to him, “It appears that there is an ‘out’, as it were, in the curse – a moment of pure happiness.”

“I can guess what would cause that and I’m not liking what that would be saying about our Slayer.” He flipped through the pages and then sighed, “What in the hell am I going to do about this?”

“Why would you need to do anything? Surely Buffy has enough sense not to get involved with a vampire.”

“This is Buffy we’re talking about, Ms. Calendar, and don’t call me Shirley.” He grinned weakly at her as she scowled at the joke, “That point aside, it appears that I might have to inform Angel about this clause … and the consequences of losing his soul.”

“She would defend him, you know. To the death if necessary.”

He got out of his chair and pulled on his jacket, “Well, then that would be something that I’d have to learn to sleep with at night.”

Jenny paled, “You would kill her?”

He looked at her, thinking his answer through as he did, “I’d do whatever I had to do to keep my friends safe, even if that means killing one of them to get to a threat; I won’t like it, but sometimes we don’t choose our missions, they choose us.”

“Speaking of missions,” she went on, as if to change to subject, “how are your sojourns into the darkness armed with firearms coming? Any luck?”

He grinned at her, “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?” She gave him a look with her dark eyes and he relented, “Yes, some, but mostly I am relearning old skills from ‘Snake’.”

“Ah, so your soldier DOES have a name, albeit that of an animal.”

“Codename, actually, and he was UDT, or what would later become the US Navy SEALs.”

She arched an eyebrow, as if tucking that piece of information away for later, “Before we get too much further, I must ask you why you have opted to tell me your secret about what you remember rather than to tell the others? Are you afraid of what they might think?”

“Quite the opposite; I could care less what they think of me, with the exception of you, Dawn and Joyce, but it’s what they might DO is what scares me – Buffy would somehow get Willow, Giles or you to perform a spell that would erase those memories from my mind and that would, most likely, either kill me or drive me insane.” He shuddered at the thought of what that would possibly cause to happen and then looked up at her with haunted eyes, “Add to the fact that there are certain aspects of just who this guy was that scares the living hell out of me, so I needed someone to outlet some of that with.”

“I thank you for your trust and candor, Xander,” she admitted with a smile, then went back to gathering her papers from her desk.

“I thank you for your trust and candor, Jenny. Need anything before I go?”

She looked up at him with a hopeful look, “Another shoulder rub?”

He smiled and walked behind her, his hands finding her shoulders, “Just keep it down, okay? I’d hate to have to explain my actions to others attracted by your vocal nature to shoulder massages – they’d make some fairly inaccurate jumps of conclusions, you know.”

“True,” she purred as he began to work out several knots in her upper back, “but then again, we wouldn’t necessarily be forced to dissuade them from their assumptions, would we?”

“Dissuade them from the idea that we’re in here, alone, going at it like rabbits? Oh, perish the thought.” They both shared a chuckle at the memory of their last little get together like this, which had led to him and her having to explain / blow off several rumors and open accusations about them being an item. After that fiasco, they had not said a word about it to anyone, which seemed to only fuel the rumors and assumptions … for good and ill. Buffy and Willow had been on his case 24/7 from the word ‘go’ after the rumors had hit the fan, Giles had gone off his crumpet and swore furiously in the British English for nearly an entire hour at their ‘hedonistic trysts on campus’ and even Principal Snyder had given him an ultimatum … one that neither Xander nor Alexander would stand for so they left a little message taped to his chair ‘Flutie Was EATEN Here!’ as a reprisal.

He concluded his massage of her back after a few minutes and bade her farewell, leaving for the Summers Residence to pick up the last of this things before moving into his new condo – that night he’d have Jenny tell Buffy about Angel’s curse and how keep it from being broken … not to mention keep him from having to break her heart and dust the son of a bitch.

AN: Alright - here's part one. What do you think? R&R, but please refrain from flaming - AR.
Next Chapter
StoryReviewsStatisticsRelated StoriesTracking