•••

“No.”

Wesley looked down at the scrap of material Cordelia had pitched at his hooves. “Why not?” True, the thing was filmy, flimsy and utterly inappropriate. Then again, those words could be used to describe several things in the seer’s wardrobe.

“It doesn’t match the shoes,” Cordelia stated. If she was going to be subjected to wearing something no self respecting hooker would wear, it was going to match her shoes.

“Then get different shoes,” Wesley grated out.

“Buy me new shoes,” Cordelia returned. “Good ones, that won’t hurt my feet but would match that…thing.”

“Fine.” Wesley watched as the young woman’s face curled up in triumph. She scooped up the garment and sashayed back to her and Gunn’s room. He didn’t mind capitulating; a pair of shoes wasn’t much. It wasn’t that long ago that she’d have gone for much more than that.

“I don’t like this,” Angel murmured, catching Wesley’s attention. He’d been saying that for a few days now, ever since Wil had filled him in on the plan. It put too many people at risk, and not just his coworkers. He and Cordy would be right there in front, while Gunn and Fred went after the Dhois demons. The others—Wes, Xander, Oz, Wil and Giles—were fulfilling other roles. Giles and Wes were going to be the ones in charge of getting the Watchers into place. Xander, Wil and Oz were supposed to be ‘damage control’—looking out for the innocents, keeping things from turning deadly for them. They were also the extraction crew should either Angel and Cordelia or Gunn and Fred run into serious problems. Angel could see so many ways for it all to fall apart.

Wesley sighed and leaned back in his chair. He’d heard this before, and knew he’d hear it again. “If you’ve come up with a better idea, I’m sure we’d all be quite interested in hearing it. As it is, this is the best we’ve got.” He didn’t like the idea of putting Fred, or anyone, at risk, but that was their job. No one but Angel had been forced upon this path—even if circumstances made their participation logical, any of the others could have walked away. The fact that they remained to fight was proof of acceptance of the risks inherent in their chosen profession.

“Are you sure of your contacts?” Angel inquired, taking a seat at the table.

“Yes,” Wesley replied. He and Giles had combed through their collective memories of Watcher colleagues to pinpoint the most likely contacts. The list they’d come up with was nothing but discontents, dead-enders and bookworms. They were a disparate group, tied together by one thing—a pure and deep-seated devotion to the true purpose of the Watchers’ Council. They were the people that both Giles and Wesley had mocked once upon a time, for being either staid traditionalists or naïve idealists. Now they were their best hope.

“Go over them again?” The dark vampire asked. Wil, Xander and Giles appeared as if by magic. The blonde grinned and sat down next to Angel.

“Thought we’d help out,” Wil offered the faun. They were all well-versed in the biographies of their Watcher targets, and could recite them forwards and backwards. Of course, the fact that they’d all done so at Angel’s behest several times didn’t hurt.

“First off is the one we ran into when we first got here,” Wesley began. “Alan Norton. I trained with him, right from the beginning. He was a bit of a purist, and more interested in the history of the Slayer than her current status. For that he was funneled into research, in the rare editions archive at the library. Unfortunately for him, he ran afoul of the curator of that collection and was moved over to the main collection, where he stalled at a midlevel position, overseeing the research efforts of trainees. His nonsuccess has done little for his personality, but he hasn’t lost his love for the Council’s mission.”

“Which brings us to Maeve Baedl,” Xander continued. “Friend of Alan Norton. She went through training a few years after he and Wes did, with an interest in nonviolent demonic species. She was a bit too egalitarian, so her superiors put her in the Interactions department, where she maps out instances of peaceful coexistence between humans and demons. Most of her time is actually spent filing paperwork and describing the differences between closely related violent and nonviolent demonic species. Her permanent record has been marked for surveillance, since the Council considers her a moderate to serious risk in terms of violating Watcher protocols.”

“Very good,” Wesley remarked softly. “Wil, would you proceed with the Watcher of your choosing?”

Wil nodded. “Trude Michel. Older than the first two, having trained about fifteen years before Rupert. He’s a much respected member of the Library staff, where he spends his time determining the age and authenticity of various texts. The main reason why he’s on this list is that despite his position and performance, he’s been denied any say in the actual administration of the Council and the Library, for reasons related to his intense dislike of outsiders influencing the Council’s major policy decisions, although he is by no means a xenophobe. He is also watched because he has on more than one occasion consulted with a nonhuman expert when working with his beloved books.”

“Peter Haimen, Cho Zhang, Theresa Walters, and Mayfair Sellers are all targets because they have been marked for career-assassination,” Giles said quietly. “The first two are just out of training, while the others are ‘old guard’. All of them have repeatedly expressed a dislike for the ‘stodgy, hidebound white-male traditions’ of the Council, to quote Mayfair. Each works from a different premise, however, and are not seen as a ‘gang of four.”

“How are you going to get them together again?” Angel inquired. Wesley just rolled his eyes.

•••

By the time three more days had passed, no one had time to roll their eyes or make fun of Angel’s paranoia. The last details of their plan were being hashed out, and everyone was grilling everyone else about each detail. The situation was so intense that even Oz was talking on a regular basis. That shocked everyone but Xander, who knew that the werewolf could be communicative if he so chose.

Cordelia was reveling in her role. She may have given up on the idea of acting as a career, but she still liked to play around with it as a hobby—or for work. Each of the other investigators had watched her ‘dumb American’ routine several times, to make sure that it fit with the story they were using and was convincing enough. Xander’s opinion was that with the outfit she was wearing, she could recite the Gettysburg Address and have the werewolf pack wrapped around her fingers.

Oz wasn’t so confident—he was very protective of his beta. The last thing he wanted to see was the young woman hurt or killed by a wild pack. So instead of nodding and agreeing that it was a great performance, he made her fine tune it—working on the little cues that only other werewolves would pick up on. He had requested that they move the timing of the attack to coincide with a specific point in the waxing moon, so that Cordelia’s pheromones would be at a high point. That way the all-male pack would be more interested in her than usual. He was also insistent that Angel not touch the seer at all for a week or so beforehand, so that there was no way the violent werewolves would consider him competition. If he smelled like nothing more than a bodyguard, then he would be treated that way.

Angel was happy enough with the amount of preparation he had to do to play his part—almost nothing. His instructions were simple: act like his old, broody and silent self. He was supposed to be nothing more than hired muscle, silent unless spoken to. That lack of dialogue left him with plenty of time to evaluate their circumstances and keep Cordelia safe, which was his primary goal anyway.

As it happened, Gunn and Fred were the most burdened by their roles. They were in charge of inciting the Dhois demons, which wouldn’t be an easy job. First, they had to make contact with the demons without getting killed in the process, which wouldn’t be easy or simple. Then they had to convince the Dhois that their information was trustworthy. The plan was for them to have available for sale information about some incidents that occurred in Dhois territory. The demons would be most interested in it, since the attacks had caused damage to both structures and income, threatening their hold on a certain slum. In reality, the attacks were done by Gunn and Fred with the help of the other investigators. They were planning to frame the werewolf pack for the incidents.

Cordelia’s part would involve getting the wolf pack out where the Dhois could encounter them. She was going to go to their local hangout, pretending to be a flighty, well-off American werewolf looking for a good time. Unfortunately, she got lost and followed her nose here. During the course of her flirtations with the pack, she was going to let slip about all those nasty Dhois demons she spotted just inside the pack’s territory. That would incite the pack to confront the Dhois, who were similarly upset with the wolf pack. The ensuing altercation would gain the attention of the Watchers, hopefully leading to unrest within the ranks.

The main difficulties they encountered were setting up the attacks without the knowledge of the Watchers, the law firm, the Dhois and the werewolves and thinking up a reason for Gunn and Fred to be in London. It hadn’t been easy, but Xander, Fred and Wes had found ways to destroy two subway entrances, disrupt the water supply at three mains and shut down power to the Dhois’ headquarters. They’d initially wanted to perform more sophisticated attacks, but Wil had reminded them that the werewolves weren’t the most advanced enemies they’d ever met.

Gunn and Fred had come up with their cover while the others worked on Cordelia and Angel. They were going to be a pair of hunters—werewolf and vampire—who were in the business of selling their expertise to the highest bidder. Fred practiced keeping her mouth shut and using short, terse phrases for communication, while Gunn beefed up on werewolf-hunting skills. If asked, they planned to say that a previous job had brought them to London. The hunter-for-hire cover worked well because the Dhois would more readily believe information from a hunter looking to sell his information than a good Samaritan giving it away.

And during all the other preparations, Wesley and Giles set up the Watchers. Wesley indirectly approached Alan Norton as their initial contact. From there it was not difficult, although somewhat slow, contacting the other targeted Watchers. Having Giles there helped quite a bit—he was very good at keeping a low profile. The Council knew that he was in town, but they never found out about what he was doing. After a few weeks of preparations, their Watcher contacts were primed—they were suspicious of the targeted communities, the werewolves, and outside influences.

•••

“You’re worrying again.”

Wil looked up at Angel. “Of course I am.” Who wasn’t worrying? All of them had bitten their nails down to nubs thinking over every aspect of the plan. Was it too complicated? Too simple? Transparent, easily foiled? Had the law firm figured out what they were up to? Did the Watchers’ Council know as well?

Angel sat down on the bed next to his frowning mate. “Do you think it will work?”

“I don’t know. It’s so…classic, so simple. The Watchers aren’t stupid; they’re going to figure out it was a set up.”

“So? Does it matter in the end?”

“What do you mean, ‘does it matter?’” Wil snapped. “If they…”

Angel shrugged. “They’ll still know about the law firm, the werewolves and the Dhois. What are they going to do, ignore all of that when they figure out that another party was involved? I don’t think so.”

Wil sighed. “I know, but…”

“You don’t like having to sit this one out,” Angel guessed. “I know it’s difficult, but you’re doing all you can.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” Wil ground out. “It doesn’t, you know. I don’t want to be damage control. What happens if the entire pack turns on you and Cordelia?”

“Then you and the others will rescue us,” Angel replied calmly. “We’ve been over this a thousand times, Wil.”

“I know, but…”

“You’ve been saying that an awful lot lately,” Angel quipped. He got a rude gesture for the comment. “Come on, the others want to play cards.”

“Ten hours before we start this thing and they’re playing poker?” Wil asked as he and Angel stood.

“Five card draw,” Angel replied as they walked out of the room.