Chapter Four: League at Work.

The limo was pleasant enough, though Heather, Ron and the Doctor all looked uncomfortable to varying degrees.

James Bond looked entirely too comfortable, suggesting that he was at least moderately used to this sort of transportation, though it was obviously a front - he kept his eyes glancing around as though expecting a trap to spring at any moment, even here.

Max Payne was simply tense, as though he was expecting things to go wrong (which, given his experiences, was probably to be expected).

Buffy Summers was apparently the only one truly comfortable with their transport, looking impressed and (almost) happy, but then she was simply enjoying being in the lap of luxury for a change, a state of affairs that was altogether uncommon for her.

"Once we are there," the Doctor said, getting everyone's attention, "those of us with investigative experience should take the lead. That would be Mr Bond, Mr Payne, and Mr Weasley, as well as myself."

"Don't think we can help?" Buffy asked, indicating herself and Heather. She wasn't sure she liked this guy much anyway, and the summary dismissal of the two girl's ability to help had left her, to say the least, mildly irritated.

"Not at this juncture," the Doctor said simply.

"Yeah, hate for us girls to get cooties or something on your crime scene," Buffy said, frowning at the old man.

The temperature in the car dropped by a good couple of degrees, the Doctor's brown eyes piercing the Slayer as if they were the sharpest daggers ever made - she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, but held it nonetheless. His face was perfectly neutral, but everyone could tell he was insulted by what she had said.

"Forgive me," he said quietly, sounding only a little testier than he had been despite the sudden coldness of his eyes, "but my understanding was that your skills lay in unarmed combat, not forensic analysis. If I was wrong, or the file was in error, I would welcome the opportunity to be corrected, since it rarely happens. But in the meantime I will not waste time I do not have by utilising the resources at my disposal incorrectly."

Buffy sat back, pouting slightly, but more than a little unnerved by the old man's sudden change in demeanour. She didn't look away though.

"Well, I'd still like to help," she said finally, quieter than she had expected.

"I don't mind so much," Heather put in, almost as if she were trying to relieve the tension in the room. "I knew I wasn't going to be much help."

"On the contrary," the Doctor said, smiling softly, the coldness disappearing. "Any insights you have - either of you - will be most welcome."

"What are cooties anyway?" Ron asked, frowning.

Heather and Buffy laughed, the tension in the car dissolving in an instant at the question, and Ron smiled nervously.

"No," he said. "Really. I've never heard of them."

A pair of UNIT soldiers were waiting by the door to the building, standing to attention as the Doctor and co entered the the crime scene. They saluted as the Doctor passed, and he waved them off tiredly, as if sick of the adulation.

"Has this site been disturbed?" he asked one of them.

"No sir," the soldier replied gruffly. "Your team is the first on-site. Mr Holmes called ahead, said he wanted you for this assignment."

"That would be 'M' taking care of everything," Bond commented dryly. "They usually do."

The Doctor said nothing, merely leading the team inside.

Inside the building was an entrance to an underground lab/storage area. Almost immediately, it was obvious that something inhuman had played a part in the robbery here, as the doors to the complex were all but completely smashed in by something - whatever it was, it had to have been strong.

"Would this be something demons or something did?" Payne asked, still sounding a tad sceptical about the whole thing.

"Magic, demons, certain aliens," the Doctor said, examining the damage and taking a small silver object from his bandolier. "It could have been anything."

"I'm not getting any weird vibes," Buffy put in. "So that might be a no-go for demons, but I should probably point out that the 'Slayer sense' is a little unreliable, and usually only works on vampires. There are plenty of demons that can break a door like that though."

"Thank you for the insight, Miss Summers," the Doctor said without sarcasm, not looking at her, and Buffy half smiled at being able to be useful where the old man hadn't expected her to be.

Inside the complex, the bodies of several scientists were splayed across the room, all of them riddled with bullet holes - whoever the aggressors had been, they had been merciless. There were also a few dead British Army guards, who had futilely tried defending the scientists, and two or three figures in black combat gear, complete with black face masks. Payne checked one of those bodies.

"One of the attackers?" Bond suggested, looking the man over,

"No symbols, high quality equipment," Payne said, frowning. "Could be mercenaries, I fought a few like this..."

He pulled the face mask off, and then recoiled in shock. Underneath the mask was a half-formed, almost embryonic face.

"Shit!" the grizzled ex-detective swore, eyes wide.

"Bloody hell," Ron added, looking faintly sick. "I've never seen anything like that..."

"Nor are you likely to for a long time," Bond said darkly, examining the face of the corpse. "It looks like one of the prototype Replica troopers that Armacham Technology Corporation is working on."

"I've heard about Armacham," Payne said, frowning. "But I thought they made weapons."

"That, Mr Payne," the Doctor said, sounding tired but not altogether upset, "is what Replicas are. Soldiers without conscience, without principle. Unquestioning."

The old man was waving his device around as if taking readings, a small red light blinking at the top of it. "I'm detecting no alien DNA traces," he added. "But there is something odd in the atmosphere - the sonic can't place it."

Bond had gotten a small phone-like device from his pocket, and was adjusting it.

"Can someone turn the light off, please?" he asked politely. Ron obliged, and a moment later the floor was bathed in a neon blue light: suddenly, footprints were visible, heading further into the lab complex. What disturbed some members if the league was that some of the footprints were decidedly inhuman. At once, Payne, Bond and Heather got their pistols out, and Ron aimed his wand. The Doctor aimed his pen-torch-thing in the direction of the footsteps, and then looked at it.

"Curious," he said, his voice now soft and thoughtful. "Traces of ethereal energies in those footprints."

"And ethereal energies means?" Max asked, sounding not a little annoyed.

"Paranormal," the Doctor said, now sounding fascinated.

"Great," Max said, sounding like he'd rather not have known.

Heather was scrutinising the footprints closely, as though she found something especially interesting about them. Buffy stood next to her, looking between the prints and her friend as if unsure what the other girl was seeing.

"I think I know those footprints," Heather said said softly after a moment. One hand continued aiming her beretta, and one went to her jacket pocket, where she quickly drew out a small radio. She looked at it for a moment, then held it up to her ear, but it apparently didn't give her what she wanted, for she immediately out it back.

"Some kind of muggle scanning thing?" Ron asked, giving the radio a look.

"No," Heather replied. "It's a radio. But it - I mean, I... never mind," she finished lamely.

"What?" the Doctor asked, looking at her. "It may prove vitally important."

"The footprints reminds me of some footprints I saw in Silent Hill," Heather said. "Footprints of... things. And whenever they were around, the radio started blaring static."

The Doctor nodded solemnly, apparently considering their options given this new information.

"Could these creatures be killed with bullets?" he asked.

"Yeah," Heather said emphatically. The Doctor seemed to make up his mind.

"Then you, Mr Payne and Mr Bond shall take point," he said.

"The radio isn't getting anything," Heather pointed out.

"Better safe than sorry," Ron commented dryly, wand still pointed in the direction of the footprints. "Gimme a sec, all of you, I want to try something."

He stepped forward, wand aimed. "Homenum Revilio!" he yelled.

A moment passed.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, arms crossed.

"People revealing spell," Ron replied, not reacting to her tone. "Nobody ahead, I don't reckon. But I don't like this, anyway."

"The creatures Miss Mason describes might not necessarily be revealed by a... 'people revealing spell'," Bond pointed out, sounding somewhat uncertain, as though he wasn't comfortable guessing about the limitations of something he didn't understand.

"Yeah," Ron agreed grimly. "I figured that much."

"Then the plan stands," the Doctor said with a refreshing certainty. "Payne, Bond, Miss Mason."

Bond and Payne immediately began moving, Bond still exposing the footsteps with his gadget in one hand while holding the Walther in the other. Payne was next to him, his Beretta aimed ahead of him, natural instincts taking over. Heather, more cautious than the other two, brought up the rear, her stance lacking the confidence and practice of the older men.

Behind them, Buffy, Ron and the Doctor walked. Ron had his wand out, a light now shining at the end of it. He was checking corners as the group advanced into the lab complex. Buffy had whipped a stake out, knowing that whatever they encountered was unlikely to be affected by it but also feeling comforted having it to hand. The Doctor had his silver device out, apparently scanning still.

"What is that thing?" Buffy asked him in an undertone.

"Sonic screwdriver," he replied softly, not taking his eyes from it.

"Sonic what?" Buffy asked, surprised.

"Screwdriver," the Doctor repeated. "Though it has been some time since I just used it for screwdriver purposes."

"My Dad would kill to have one of those," Ron put in, smirking grimly as he kept checking corners. "He loves muggle stuff."

"I will bear that in mind, Mr Weasley," the Doctor said dryly.

After a few metres of walking into the complex, the footprints stopped at a wall. Ron stepped forward and shone his wand at the crumpled form at the base of the wall. As they approached the body, Heather gasped, recognising it.

It was two-legged, barely, but it wasn't human by any stretch - it was taller than a human, with oversized 'arms' that looked like giant, spiked clubs.

"What the hell is that thing?" Payne said, eyes narrow.

"It was..." Heather began, swallowing reflexively out of disbelief and upset. "It was one of the things that was in Silent Hill."

Weasley cursed loudly. "Some idiot's been grabbing things from Otherworld. Bloody brilliant."

"Search the area," the Doctor said, eyes fixed on the creature. "We need to find more information."

"All the information we have so far isn't promising," Bond said, sounding slightly discouraged. "Replica soldiers - but they don't need to be Armacham variants, other companies might have begun similar programs. Something from Miss Mason's experiences in Silent Hill, but we don't know who brought it here."

"We have more information than we did when we entered," the Doctor said, his tone not changing from the dry commanding tone he had kept since entering. "We know this enemy is combining advanced technology of this period with paranormal elements taken from one of the more dangerous supernatural sites on Earth. That alone will narrow our suspects."

"If Armacham make Replica soldiers," Payne put in, "couldn't we throw them a line?"

"They wouldn't be willing to talk," Bond said grimly.

Weasley frowned, apparently thinking something over. "I think, if you got me in a room with whoever you want questioned, I could convince them. I'd need to write to a friend to find things out and get permission, but I could do it."

"I would argue then that this would be a logical next step," the Doctor said, putting his screwdriver away. "Until then, I fear we have exhausted our options here."

He turned to leave, and slowly, the other members of the group followed him.

Once they were back out of the lab and in their car, the Doctor ordered the driver to take them all back to League HQ. After a brief conversation with Mycroft's secretary, the Doctor suggested that everyone return to their quarters and await the next part of their mission. He himself wrote up a report and printed it off to give to Mycroft - Ron smirked at that. The very soul of diligence. Just like...

Don't' think about that.

Most of the rest of the team went to the bar, clearly deciding that sitting down and drinking would be a good idea, especially now they knew they were facing something altogether unpleasant.

Ron, after confirming with Mycroft that any correspondence he had to send would be handled by his office, immediately went to write a letter to Harry, feeling good about contacting his friend. He wasn't altogether used to Muggle pens, but he found it oddly more convenient than a quill. It was like the ink lot was inside the pen! Bloody marvellous.

Dear Harry, his letter began, for all the world like he hadn't been a drunken mess when he had last seen his friend. He stopped, thinking about what he had been like. Then he thought about why he had been like that, and he frowned. Suddenly he wanted nothing but to go get drunk again to take his mind off of his pain, but he sighed and kept writing.

Dear Harry,

Thought I'd write in to let you know that I'm alright and I'm where I was supposed to end up. I can't talk much about the work I'm doing. I get the feeling though that they should have asked you to do it instead: you'd feel less like a fraud than me, I imagine. Anyway, not why I'm writing.

I need you to get me permission to use spells and potions on Muggles, specifically the Imperius curse and Veritaserum. I know it's an Unforgivable, but there's not a chance in hell of us figuring this out without me taking drastic measures. I also need a few vials of Veritaserum if I get that permission. Before you say that nothing can warrant it, whoever we're after has been to Silent Hill and got stuff - and by stuff, I mean creatures - from Otherworld. You'll want to tell the Americans about that one, but I hope that makes you realise why I need those permissions.

I don't know what else I'm allowed to tell you about my work here.

Here, Ron paused briefly.

Tell Hermione I'm thinking of her, if you think she won't react too badly to it. If you can, ask her to look up any info on Otherworld she can dig up in her spare time. Also ask her -

Ron stopped. He wasn't sure he was allowed to put this next part into the letter, but all the same he would have felt better about doing so.

Also ask her to look up the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Don't ask why, just ask her to do it.

Hope to speak to you soon, mate.

Ron.

Ron frowned at the letter before putting it in it's envelope and giving it to Mycroft's secretary. He didn't know if it would get him the permissions he needed but he figured it would be a start. Having done that, he headed downstairs, intent on drinking something - anything - to distract him from the wellspring of unhappy feelings that were welling up inside him.

When Ron got to the bar the Slayer, Buffy, as well as Bond and Payne, were all already there, all of them discussing something that was obviously at least a little amusing, judging by the laughter. Ron sat with them, pouring himself a whiskey from the well stocked shelves. He didn't normally hold with Muggle alcohol but desperate times called for desperate drink, and he was the very definition of desperate.

"Evening all," he said with a soft grin.

"Hi," Buffy said cheerfully. She held a glass of coke, no one stupid enough to give her alcohol.

"Mr Weasley," Bond added with a nod and a smile, a vodka martini in hand.

Ron on took a swig of the whiskey. It wasn't nearly as strong as Firewhiskey, which was slightly disappointing. He'd need to drink far more of the stuff to get the desired effect.

"Who'd you write to, Weasley?" Payne asked him as he poured a second glass.

"A colleague," Ron replied, not really wanting to discuss it. He downed the second glass, and poured a third. "Trying to get permission to use certain magical means of coercion."

"You think you'll get it?" the ex-detective asked, eyebrow raised as he drank from his own glass.

"We can but hope," Bond put in, sounding suddenly serious, "because I don't think Armacham's people will let their secrets out so easily."

"We'll see," Ron said, smiling softly. He was feeling a tad buzzed, but he wasn't where he wanted to be yet. He poured a fourth glass, his third already gone.

"Could just beat someone up," Buffy pointed out, grinning slightly in a self-conscious way. "I'm not good at some of your spy wizardy stuff, but really good at that part."

"Spy... wizardy?" Bond said, smirking.

"I don't doubt you're good at beating people up," Payne said to Buffy in a dry tone. "But somehow, I doubt that's going to work as well as whatever Mr Weasley here has in mind."

Buffy shrugged at that.

"Can you guys call me Ron?" Ron asked, smirking. His fourth glass was all but empty by now. "Every time someone says 'Mr Weasley' I think my Dad's in the room." He downed what was left of his fourth glass and poured his fifth.

"Fair enough," Payne said, smiling good-naturedly. "In that case, I'm Max."

"And I'm James," Bond added, smiling softly.

"I've always been Buffy," the Slayer added with a lopsided grin, "so that's really no surprise."

Ron laughed, now feeling very buzzed, and the group of extraordinary individuals continued talking long into the night, each one of them filled with fascinating stories about their lives and what they had done...