Whether or not Laurella’s words had any effect on the Death Book commander was hidden by the armor, but his voice came back, full of spite, “Well, if you’d given yourself up a month ago, there would have been only one causality,”


He shook his head, as if trying to clear it. “We don’t have time for this. Hurry up and get them into the vans. We should get out of here before the local law enforcement shows up.”

The Protectors and Laurella were disarmed and restrained, with the Shepherds producing cuffs with demon-binding wards for Task. They were loaded onto various armored vans, so that no more than two were together at any time.

It was a long, quite ride back to the Citadel.

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Upon arrival at the Citadel, the group was herded out of the vans. A rather beat-up looking Duncan was being dragged along by the Death Book commander, and the body-bag containing Martin’s remains were carted along by a pair of S.E.C.A. troopers. They were escorted to a large, bare room that had only a few bolted down benches and a small metal table. Under gunpoint, the group got the idea that they were to sit down and be quite, and the Death Book commander threw Duncan with a bit of force onto one of the benches. He looked at the escorts. “You’re dismissed. My people and I can watch them from here.”

The troopers left the room. As they did, the two troopers with Martin’s body entered the room, with the body-bag. As the last escort left, the Death Book commander gave an audible sigh, and took his helmet off, putting it on the table.

“I apologize for what just happened,” he said, “but we had to make it look real…real enough to fool anyone who saw it.”

Duncan gave a laugh as he sat up. “Blast it, Kyle, that last part was real enough. You didn’t have to throw me quite that hard.”

Duncan stood, his apparent injuries gone. The trooper with Martin’s body removed her helmet, revealing the face of Tessa Scott. “I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to explain what was going on,” she said. “Like he said, we had to make that look like a real scuffle and capture.”

She unzipped Martin’s body bag, and the “dead” Warden sighed. “I don’t want to come back to life,” he said, “I think my popularity sky-rocketed when I died.” Despite his words, Martin sat up, and peeled off his red-stained coat. Underneath it was a vest that was clearly designed to give the image of fatal gunshot wounds. "I was 'shot' with blanks," he explained, "the vest had little charges with fake blood to simulate gunshot wounds, just like they do it in Hollywood."

Duncan sat on the table in the front of the room, and threw Martin a set of keys, and Martin began to work his way around the room unlocking everyone’s cuffs. “I have to join with everyone else apologizing,” Duncan said. “The best way to make this look real was to have at least one of us ‘killed’, and we needed a genuine response to sell it to whoever was watching. As far as the Council knows, all that transpired at Al’s was real. Anyone who is informing for the Fallen…and I’ll bet any of you good money that at least a handful of people have been corrupted by that thing, probably promised power or exaltation or something like that…thinks the same thing. That’s what took me and Martin so long to contact you; we had to get the raid looking real.”

Duncan paused, and gave a half smile. “Anyone want to rip my head off before I continue?”

Troy raised his hand, but Trish booted him in the shin.

"Well, he offered," Troy grumbled.

"Apologies accepted, I guess," Trish said grudgingly. "So now what?"

As soon as Martin unlocked Laurella's cuffs, he recoiled from the fastest and most powerful slap the Mother of Hell may have ever delivered to the face of anyone. The sound of her right palm colliding with Martin's left cheek was sharp and loud and even a little echoey, given the enclosed space of the room.

Laurella's emotions were battling over each other. Anger and happiness and sorrow and embarrassment all conspired to make the poor girl look like a fool. She clenched her fists so tightly that the knuckles drained with whiteness. Then she quickly turned her furious and blushing face away from everyone with a "Gah!" to reflect her moch surrender and walked to one of the walls so her red face wouldn't show. At least she could say something. "Could we maybe have our goddamn weapons back, please?"

Yep, Duncan was pretty smart to make Martin do the handcuff unlocking.

Harm sighed. He seemed to be doing that far to often today. His resistance had ended the second Laurella was wrapped up. Now he sat and waited for the rest of the plot to unfurl.

Duane was fairly annoyed. He had been planning on using one of his bombs in order to get them out of trouble, but they had taken it from him before he managed it. He felt naked without his explosives.

"I'm not quite sure yet", he told Duncan, trying to smile. He had managed to get some sleep during the last few days, as well as on the S.E.C.A van, so he was looking like his old self again.

"I suppose I'll resist the urge, as long as I can get my stuff back. That stuff has sentimental value." Duane hoped they hadn't messed around with his bombs, silver fulminate tended to explode at inconvenient times. Mainly while it was being held.

Martin looked over at Duncan. “Told you I was more popular when I was dead.”

Duncan’s half-smiled faded into a look that was all serious. “I take it since those of us here are having that strong of feelings about this, it must of looked real enough. Again, I assure you it had to be done this way.”

Duncan nodded to Tessa, who moved to the front of the room. “For the time being, I can’t give you your stuff back yet. We have to maintain the illusion that you guys are prisoners for as possible.”

Duncan slid off the table, giving Tessa the front of the room to herself. “For about two weeks now, some of us,” she said, nodding to the Death Book commander, “have believed that Fallen must have corrupted someone on the inside. It only makes sense, I suppose…with a being of that power, it must be easy to believe that it can deliver on its promises of immortally or whatever. Anyways, for this, the corruptibility of humans is going to work for us this time around. As we speak, word is getting around that the Mother of Hell is going to be executed tomorrow at dawn to prevent the opening of the Gates of Hell. As far as the Council is concerned, this is really what is going to happen, and as far as the people who are reporting to the Fallen is concerned, that is what is going to happen. That is why the raid on Al’s diner had to look real. If we just took you in all friendly-like, the Fallen would have no reason to believe that we were actually going to kill Laurella. As it is, he has to make his move before dawn tomorrow.”

Tessa took a look around the room. “From Farsight’s vision, we all know what happens if we wait for the Fallen to attack the Citadel on his own timetable: we lose, and we lose big. However, for your plan to work, we have to get the Fallen to the Gates of Hell. As such, our only choice was to make him strike before he was fully prepared. Even now, the Citadel is being prepared for him to attack sometime tonight. We have to defend the Citadel as if we were really trying to keep him from the Gates of Hell, but at the same time, we have to allow him to get down there. Kyle here,” she said, nodding again to the Death Book commander, “has been working on the Citadel defenses.”

The Death Book commander stepped up. “The only chance we have is that the Fallen attacks tonight, and I’m sure he will. While he may be an ageless creature, he has shown signs of impatience, so it doesn’t seem likely he’ll let us ‘execute’ the Mother of Hell and wait for the next time around. Most of the forces completely loyal to the Council are still you hunting you all. Those left in here have generally been those who have decided to remind the Council that their orders are technically non-binding.

“Given some of the…souls…that the Fallen last likely enslaved, we have no reason to doubt that it knows the layout of the Citadel. Because of this, we have no reason to believe that he will head for the Gates of Hell on his own…he’ll likely head towards the detention center to ‘rescue’ the young lady over there. This is where you lot come in: It will be your job to lure him down to the Gates of Hell. It technically shouldn’t be too hard, since she,” he says, pointing at Laurella, “is that last thing he needs to open the Gates for his own purposes. I should point out that at for this portion, you will be armed, but not with the hellfire weapons you obtained. We can’t risk using those until we have him bound by the Seal of Three Crests. Once you get him to the Gate chamber, myself and the surviving Death Books will force him into the Seal, at which point, it will be activated by Mr. McCragge. Once he is sealed, you must destroy his wings with the hellfire weapons. Once his wings are destroyed, the Mother of Hell will open the Gates…the Seal of Three Crests should be powerful enough to act as a barrier to keep whatever demons are waiting on the other side from entering for a short while. Once the Gates are open, we must do everything in our power to force the Fallen through them. From what I can tell, that will be the hardest part, as the Fallen will certainly know what we are up to by then, and most certainly will not want to go. Once within the bounds of Hell, the Chosen will close the Gates.”

“And once she does that,” Duncan says, jumping back up, “all this is over. The Gates will be sealed. No more demons will be able to be summoned, and those on this side of the Gates will be weakened considerably.” Duncan gave Task a wary look. “I don’t know what kind of deal you cut, Task, but I assume whatever demonic entity you’re dealing with is aware of the ramifications of sealing the Gates, correct?”

Duncan waited for the answer, then continued. “So, basically, all we have to do is to make sure that the Fallen follows Laurella, but doesn’t catch her, down to the Gate room, at which point, we trap him in the seal, blow off his wings, open the Gates, force him through, and then close them. Questions, comments, concerns? If you have them, this will be last chance to share.”

Laurella forced her emotions away and turned back around, still looking pissed. "There will be no more deaths. No ifs, no buts, no shit about the Fallen's overwhelming power. No deaths, period. If you don't get it and end up dead regardless, you get a slap, and yes you will feel it through death. I'll make sure of that."

“Alright,” Duncan says, “put your cuffs back on. Tessa and Kyle will escort us down to the detention cells in groups. Since everyone thinks he’s dead, Martin will be our man on the outside…Tessa has an extra Strike Force uniform for him, and with the place on alert because an attack by the Fallen is eminent, it won’t be too strange for him to be running around in full gear. Once the attack starts, Martin will drop our equipment at the detention center, and will take the hellfire weapons to the Watch Tower. The Gate room itself has already been prepared for this, so that’s one less thing we have to worry about.”

Duncan took one more look around the room. “That’s it. Get some sleep, pray, write your will…do whatever you think you need to do to get ready for this.”

((OOC: So we don’t have to change chapters in the middle of the battle, I’ll be putting up a new chapter shortly.))