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Los Angeles, California.
February 28, 1999
He who
had been Xander Harris hadn’t wasted time arguing with his interlocutor
that day; he’d quickly disappeared, vanishing into the urban jungles of
L.A. like the survivor he was.
At
first the man had figured it was all just a misunderstanding, but
several back-channel missions later...he became convinced something was
seriously wrong. Either with him, or the world.
<
Post-traumatic stress syndrome? > he’d wondered. But that wouldn’t wash,
not completely – the former slave knew who he was, and he knew about the
demons, even though everyone had looked at him like he was nuts when
that topic had come up.
Soldier Guy hadn’t understood it – and after months of being back, he’d
seen countless signs of demons in the city. It was as if all the humans
around him – with the exception of a rare, pitiful few – were being
deliberately blind to the situation.
The
Vietnam vet basically just shrugged to himself – it wasn’t his mission
to protect these people. He wasn’t sure just what his mission was
now, true, but he could tell that wasn’t it.
Fortunately, events were set in motion for him to get an answer to that
question.
That
night, a young-looking Irishman arrived at an old building and briefly
checked the directory. It read:
Casas
Manufacturing 101
John
Folger, DDS 104
Herbert Stein 105
Curiously enough, the next year the legend would also include Angel
Investigations 103. And as the guy entered the basement level of 103,
the footsteps woke up Soldier Guy at once.
“Approach and identify yourself!” he shouted, aiming the .45 that had
been rescued from an unlamented dead drug dealer named Tyke.
“Relax, man. Name’s Doyle,” an Irish accent said as the man stepped into
view. Then he looked at the gun pointed at his face. “Uh, I was gonna
make this wisecrack about the Batcave? But now I’m thinkin’ not,” Allen
Francis Doyle grinned weakly.
The
soldier gestured for the guy to come forward, as he stared at his
companion; then the human suddenly realized, < Demon! > The army vet
quickly cocked the weapon and took aim again at his target.
“Hey,
I said relax! I’m not here to hurt anybody!” Doyle pleaded.
“You’re a demon,” the man with Xander’s face said stonily.
The
messenger for the Powers grimaced. “Fifty percent of me, yeah. But I was
raised human, I’ll have ya know...”
Fortunately, Soldier Guy instantly knew that was the truth; after nearly
five years in his own personal hell, he was easily able to detect lies.
< Half-breed. Possible danger. Proceed with caution. > “State your
business, demon.”
The
half-Brachen demon shrugged. “I had a vision about you.”
His
companion looked puzzled, as Doyle said impatiently, “Look, pal, you got
a destiny. A, uh, mission, alright? The Powers That Be want you to go
somewhere to prevent an apocalypse. Town called Sunnydale, about two
hours drive north of here; the high school there? It’s sitting on top of
a Hellmouth, the entryway to you-know-where...”
The
soldier lowered his weapon slightly. “Prove that you’re legitimate,
pal.”
Doyle
shrugged. “Saw what happened to you in the vision, buddy boy – nearly 55
months in that hell dimension? I’m pretty sure 'twasn’t fun. And those
demon assholes constantly sayin’ that you’re no one...that wasn’t fun
either, I’m thinkin’...”
The
military man was now convinced, and holstered the gun. “Mission
parameters?”
The
half-human looked annoyed. “What do I look like, Army Intelligence? All
I know is you gotta be at the school tomorrow night. There’ll be some
other people battlin’ the Hellmouth demon – you just gotta help out with
any other threat, be the support troops or whatever...”
Doyle
gave him a short wave, as he turned around to head for the closest bar.
“Good luck!” he called out, desperate for a drink after coming so close
to getting shot.
Soldier Guy quickly dismissed the unexpected visitor from his thoughts,
and decided to head to a place that he had unknowingly once called home.
Chapter 10