"Darkness Visible"

Author: Notmanos

E-mail: notmanos at yahoo dot com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The characters of Angel are owned by 20th Century Fox and Mutant Enemy; the
character of Wolverine is also owned by 20th Century Fox and Marvel Comics. No copyright
infringement intended. I'm not making any money off of this, but if you'd like to be a patron of the
arts, I won't object. ;-) Oh, and Bob is *my* character - keep your hands off!

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The elevator disgorged them in a brightly lit corridor,the walls an impossibly pristine white,the carpets a mellow,muted butterscotch.He could hear the sounds of keyboards in use,the squeak of chairs,and phones being answered,but all far away,in a cross corridor that seemed to be farther away than logic would dictate.But considering how strongly the strange mutant smells lingered here,merging with the scent of many humans,coffee,and...sulphur(?),he had a feeling logic had been left far behind him.

He was led into a large office,which seemed to have too much oak paneling for its own good,and was dominated by a large polished desk,behind which a huge window wall showed off an impressive slice of the Los Angeles skyline.

An older man-human,by the smell of him-swiveled in his direction,and as he sat back in his large leather chair,he gave him a phony smile,and said,in an exaggeratedly friendly tone,"Welcome to Wolfram and Hart,Wolverine."

He sneered at the man,instantly not trusting him."Yeah,whatever-where's Vector?Enigma?What's the deal?"

The man,who had severely combed back silver grey hair and a strange tautness around the face that suggested plastic surgery,smiled at the oily man behind Wolverine's shoulder."Shrike did well,"he said smugly.

That name almost sounded familiar."I'm not Shrike."He couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched more than by these two men.He glanced over at the small but obviously well stocked bar on the left side of the room:there was a mirror behind it,and he was willing to bet the tattered clothes on his back (hey-how did that happen?) it was two way,and they-well,he-was being observed.He gave his own reflection the finger.

A hidden door in the left wall opened,and another smarmy,dark suited man came in,giving him a bitter smirk (for the finger,probably)."Welcome back,Wolverine.You've been gone too long."

Something about this felt all wrong;he wanted to talk to Enigma,or even Vector,but he had this niggling feeling that something awful had happened to them.

"What the hell's my mission?I'm not here to socialize."He spat impatiently,crossing his arms over his chest.What had happened to him?Not only were his clothes torn,but he could smell his own blood on them.The three men either didn't notice or didn't care,or both.

"Can I get you a drink?"The new man asked,deftly inserting himself behind the bar.He was younger than the guy behind the desk,but older than the oily guy behind him,and his short black hair gleamed like the pelt of some exotic animal.He instinctively didn't trust him.

"I'll have a beer."He felt like he could use one.One case,in fact.

"The one thing we don't have.How about a Scotch?"Mr. Black said,possibly attempting to be charming.

He shrugged.He didn't like Scotch,but it was alcohol,so he wasn't going to complain.

"How do you feel,Wolverine?"The man asked,pouring Scotch into two glasses that matched the crystal decanter the amber liquid was in,making him wonder if it was indeed Scotch or something else entirely.

Not that he cared.He was Wolverine-he was immune to whatever shit they could throw at him.

"Pissed off.What the fuck is this shit?Do you have a mission for me,or do I just walk?"

Mr. Black gave him that smarmy smile again,the one he wanted to rip off his face."I do have a mission for you.Mister Matheson,would you please show him the dossier?"

The man behind the desk opened a drawer and removed a file from it,which he promptly threw on his desk.Mr. Black came over,holding both glasses,and held one out to him.It smelled like Scotch,so he grabbed the glass,downed it in a single gulp,and gave him the crystal tumbler back.Black looked vaguely stunned.

"Target twenty two,"the man called Matheson said,opening the file.He took out a glossy photo,and held it up:it was a head shot of an unremarkable man with well defined features,his cheekbones looking as sharp as razor blades beneath caramel colored skin,his eyes lazy and bright blue. "He needs to be terminated immediately,"Black said,placing the empty glass back on the bar."He's at a penthouse downtown that is not easily accessible,and he has several mutant bodyguards."

Wolverine shrugged."Big fuckin' deal.What's the address?"

Matheson held out a folded piece of paper,and as he took it,he heard the oily man whisper to Black,"Why didn't you just use the code word in the first place?"

"The code alone wasn't enough,"Black whispered back."It needs a 'push' to overcome the core personality,according to Enigma's salvaged notes."

"Enigma?"He repeated,turning to face the startled oily guy and cool Black."Where is she?"He couldn't shake the feeling something bad had happened to her.

"You don't remember?She was a traitor.She killed several of her compatriots and herself in an aborted terrorist attack.She nearly killed you."Black replied evenly.

Part of that sounded right,but another part of it sounded deeply false.But he figured he'd think about it later.

Right now,he had a target to destroy.

Angel hated waiting in the car while the others did he leg work,but frankly,he was lucky to drive.
He knew Logan had sharp claws,but honestly he had had no idea until now;how did he never accidentally cut himself with those things?

Come to think of it,he probably did.He just healed so fast it didn't matter.

Angel wished he healed that fast.He wasn't actively bleeding now,save for a slight oozing,but he'd probably have the holes in his back and chest for at least another day.Logan was lethal-Wolverine was even worse,which hadn't seemed possible until now.

A Logan without a conscience could cause an untold amount of devastation.He didn't want to kill him-honestly,he didn't think he could,short of strapping an explosive to him-but they had to stop him before he hurt anyone else,and figure out a way to get him back.

Part of that was figuring out what had happened to him in the first place,and finding out where he had gone.What could have happened to him?Brain damage?

"Any luck?"He asked,as Cordelia and Gunn came back to the GTX.

She shook her head and got in the passenger seat as Gunn hopped into the back."Nobody's seen a guy with Englebert Humperdink's sideburns,"Gunn reported."And I'm sure they'd have remembered if they had."

"Those government dickheads have him,I know it,"Cordelia insisted,scowling darkly.Although he had scared her badly back at the Hyperion,she was deeply concerned for Logan,which made Angel wonder if Electra wasn't the only woman attracted to him.What was it about Logan?He was so hairy and scruffy looking,and talk about an attitude problem!He gave off a major "leave me the fuck alone" vibe.Did women find 'hard to get' that attractive?He was hard to get too!

"How?"Gunn countered."He walked out of his own accord."

"Bad news,"Wesley said,returning to the car.He frowned seeing Cordelia in 'his' seat,but since she didn't care,he got into the back seat beside Gunn.

"No one saw him,"Angel guessed,reaching for the keys to start the car.Maybe on the next block.

"No,he was seen,all right,"Wesley replied."He was seen getting into a car with a man who,quote, "Looked like a lawyer". "

Angel dropped his hand,and twisted in his seat to look at him directly.Cordelia did the same thing."Wolfram and Hart?"Angel said,feeling his stomach lurch at the very idea.Oh shit.

"Whoa,wait a minute,"Gunn said,making an impatient gesture with his hand."What would they want with small,dark and hairy?And why would he go with them?"

"Those government assholes hired them to find him,"Cordy said,sounding remarkably sure of herself.

"Doesn't explain what happened to him,"Gunn countered."They didn't throw some mojo on him."He paused briefly."Did they?"

"What do you mean small?"Cordy asked him."Logan isn't small."

Angel decided he didn't want to know what that was referencing,and concentrated on Gunn's question."It's not necessarily beyond them.Wolfram and Hart have lots of connections."

"It was Shrike,"Wesley said.

"What?"Angel asked.

"He's dead,"Cordy replied."Electra made him a crispy critter."

Wesley sat forward,his eyes bright with inspiration;whenever Wesley finally solved a puzzle,he always looked like that."Now he's dead.But while he was alive he planted false memories in Logan's mind.What if he planted more?"

"Like what?"Gunn wondered,following his thought but looking as confused as Angel felt.

Wesley shook his head,but was clearly brainstorming."A...subliminal suggestion?"

"A subliminal suggestion to go psycho?Is that even possible?"Gunn asked,throwing the question out for anyone.

Before Angel could opine he didn't think so,Wesley replied,"Not psycho-a subliminal suggestion to bring forth a second personality."

"Are you saying Logan has a split personality?"Cordelia asked him,wrinkling her nose in disgust.

"Well,you can't deny he has suffered severe trauma,"Wesley argued.

"But usually that only happens to people who have childhood traumas,"Angel pointed out."Adults simply survive or end up broken."He felt like he was speaking from experience.

"Ah hell.The Manchurian Candidate,"Gunn suddenly exclaimed.

"Huh?"Cordy replied.

"You never saw The Manchurian Candidate?"Wesley asked her,and now he sounded disgusted."How could you not?It's a classic-"

"Brainwashing,"Angel said,clarifying for her as well as thinking aloud."From what little he told you,Cordelia,it's clear they tortured him,and from the way he acts,he was probably tortured more than he'd ever admit,and for a long time.They probably got sick of trying to force him to comply,so they simply coerced him into doing what they wanted another way."

"What do you mean the way he acts?"Cordelia wondered,sounding slightly defensive.

Angel tried to think of a way to put it tactfully."Scared.He acts scared;he doesn't trust anyone,and probably for damn good reasons."He knew she was going to argue with him,but before she could,he added,"Being the first to fight often means you're afraid of what will happen if you don't.But I'm not criticizing Logan-I don't know how he survived.In his position,I'm not sure I could have,or would have wanted to."

"Didn't you go to Hell?"Gunn asked.

Angel shrugged a single shoulder,glancing at Gunn in the rearview,which was really stupid,because neither he or Gunn could see the reflection of his eyes."From the sound of it,so did Logan."

"Okay,let's say he was brainwashed somehow,"Cordelia said."How did Shrike change him,and how do we change him back?"

That was a puzzler.Before he could say they needed to find him first,Cordy grabbed her head,and hissed,"Oh shit."

She slammed back against the seat,gasping in pain,as the new vision hit her.

Cordelia felt the warning signs only seconds before the vision hit:it was like a sudden static charge building up behind her eyes before it exploded,and it felt like it took half her brain with it.

But it was a quick vision,and sped past her like a bullet train.She found herself in a dark apartment...no,it was too big for an apartment...a suite,a penthouse...and in spite of the pain she couldn't help but notice the awesome view of the Los Angeles skyline from the suite's window wall;she could see the tops of several buildings like neon spires,and she wondered briefly who could afford something above the smog line...but then she saw the man.Not bad looking,but kind of plain in a swarthy sort of way,and he seemed unaware that he was not alone.But Cordelia knew he was far from alone.Especially when she watched him walk through his darkened living room,and a shape appeared behind him,a dark shape she could not make out...until the shadow suddenly grew claws.Claws that glinted silver from the half light seeping in through the window....

Reality roared back in like a tsunami,and as she grabbed her throbbing head,she hissed through clenched teeth,"Logan,shit."

"What?Is he in trouble?"Wesley asked.She could feel him grab the back of her seat,and smelled his aftershave as he leaned forward,but right now it was almost nauseating.Her head felt like a throbbing wound full of molten lava,and she just wanted to find a nice,quiet place to lay down and go comatose for a while.But that seemed far from realistic now.

"In a manner of speaking.He's going to kill a guy in Holt Towers,top floor."She sank down in her seat as low as she could without sliding onto the floor,wondering if Angel would knock her out if she asked him nicely.

Angel quickly started the car,and searched frantically for an opening in the traffic.

"What are we supposed to do about it?"Gunn suddenly interjected."Can't he kill each and every one of us?"

"Well,"Angel started,and instantly stopped.He couldn't think of a single thing to say.But,in a burst of inspiration,he asked,"Wesley,did you throw one of your spell books in the trunk?"

"For use against the Berserker,yes,"he replied warily."Why?"

Before they had gone off on their Logan hunt,they had loaded the trunk with heavy duty weapons in case they encountered the Berserker.Which was yet another happy thought to add to the pile.
"Maybe you could cast a spell on Logan.Freeze him,knock him out,something."

"I'm not sure that would work.I brought the Book of Uluhtc."

"Did you just choke?"Cordelia wondered.It sounded like it.

"So?"Gunn replied."What's so special about that book?"

"It's supposed to only work on demons."

"What about hitting him with that staff thingy?"She said,trying to remember everything they stashed in the trunk."If you hit him really hard,you can knock him out."

Angel gave her a sidelong glance that verged on pissy."He has an adamantium skull."

"I didn't say it would be easy,"she countered,not ready to admit,in retrospect,it was indeed a crappy idea.

"Well,you'll have to try something,Wesley,"Angel said,finally pulling out into traffic."Because I have to try and stop him.Even if it kills me."

Wolverine smelled the first mutant loitering in the alley outside the upscale apartment building,and he was one of those inhuman smelling ones.He looked it too;he was one of the ugliest mutants he had ever seen,and he'd seen some beauts.

It was maybe a meter and a half tall and built like a outhouse,with warty grey-black skin the texture of fungus infected tree bark,and a bulbous head that continued the general warty theme of his body.Wolverine simply punched him and took him down-he looked tougher than he was,like most people-but he wiped his hand off frantically on the leg of his jeans afterwards,because its skin felt disgusting.It was flaky on top while underneath it was squishy,like a sodden sponge.It felt like just making contact with the thing had contaminated him.

Afterwards he walked into the lobby-after slicing through the coded lock that prevented non-residents from entering the building-and,encountering no resistance,took the elevator up to the highest floor.

But there was a slight problem:the elevator only went up to the twenty first floor.To access the two higher penthouse levels,you needed a key,and slicing it with his claws was not going to do the job.

Looking around the brightly lit,aggressively beige elevator,he saw the emergency trap door in the ceiling,just slightly out of his reach.He jumped for it as he popped his claws,snagging the door and ripping it off like so much cardboard.After that,it was a simple case of tossing it aside for the maintainence workers to find and grabbing the edge of the opening with his fully extended claws,pulling himself up onto to the roof of the moving elevator.He crouched on the edge,riding it like a surfboard as it made its way up to the twenty first floor.

He looked up the darkened shaft,only to find an occasional pinpoint of a yellow safety light,making the cable look like mutant jungle vines as thick as his arms.There were no access ladders,only smooth metal walls with an occasional indent for no apparent reason,and the top of the shaft seemed to go on forever.He couldn't see the end.

Maybe he'd just have to find it.

As soon as the elevator came to a full stop he went to the nearest side wall,dug in his claws,and started to climb up the elevator shaft.

It was slower going than he would have liked,but his claws could shred the steel wall to pieces if he wasn't careful,and he forgot to wear his mountain climbing boots,assuming he had any.So he had to move carefully,bracing his feet against the wall as he dug one claw in,then the other, making a slow but steady ascent.

When the elevator started back down,the rumbling in the walls nearly making his claws slice more deeply through the metal,but he was able to hang on gently until the rumble could be barely felt,the elevator ten to twenty feet below him.

So much for the mutant bodyguard presence-where were they?Probably waiting on the penthouse level.Mister Paranoid.Well,for good reason,as it turned out.

As he climbed level with the door of the twenty second floor,he suddenly had the strangest memory-a cold day,and something falling.He wasn't sure what it was;it was a black handle grip with a red switch on top,dropping from someone's hand.It made him think of Enigma,but he wasn't sure why.And why did that just occur to him now?

Maybe it was just that those guys back at that place-Wolfram and Hart,or whatever-just didn't seem right.Yes,they had an Organization guy,they knew the codes,but they were so fucking oily.Even worse then most of the Org people he occasionally had to deal with.The only reason he liked Enigma-well,like was too strong a word-was that she wasn't oily:slicker than shit at times,forever cryptic,but never greasy.She'd have hated those guys's fucking guts.

So what had happened to her?Was Org man actually telling the truth?In all honesty,she could have been a traitor-you couldn't trust people at all,could you?Especially those who chose to remain inscrutable.

But he kept seeing that thing fall in his mind,and it gave him a bad taste in his mouth.Something had happened to her,all right,but they weren't telling the truth.

So how did he know that anything they told him real?

Ah hell,everything was pointless and full of shit anyways;therefore nothing mattered.Truth and lie often depended on what side of the statement you were on,and he really couldn't give a flying fuck either way.

Rather than force the doors apart,he sliced an opening in the door and slipped through it,onto the darkened twenty second floor.He smelled the mutant human bodyguards,who weren't yet aware of his presence,and smirked as he stalked forward,down the blackened corridor.

This was the part he liked the most:kicking ass.

Angel knew Wolverine had preceded him,not only due to the faint smell of him lingering in the still,warm air,but the unconscious (almost comatose) Guldar demon in the alley beside the building,and the expertly slashed and gutted security panel and camera beside the door.He just hoped he wasn't too far ahead of him.

In the elevator,he saw someone had ripped the hatch off the emergency door in the ceiling (he only needed one guess to figure out who did that),and wondered why until he saw the elevator went up to the twenty first floor.Cordy said the man lived on the top floor.So,Logan had...climbed up the elevator shaft?Oh wonderful.It was probably too late to mention that he had a slight fear of heights,but he doubted Logan would have given a crap,even if he was completely himself.

He jumped up,grabbing the edges of the hatchway and pulling himself up onto the roof of the elevator before it came to a stop,and in the relative darkness of the shaft he saw neat,three pronged puncture marks in the steel wall in the right.It wasn't hard to tell Logan had been here.

But Angel didn't have handy claws,and he hadn't thought to bring his grappling hook either,and the holes Logan had left were not adequate for him to use as handholds.So,he was going to have to shinny up the elevator cables until he was level with the twenty second floor elevator doors, wasn't he?

Sometimes his job sucked beyond the telling of it.

Angel began climbing the cable hand over hand,regretting the fact that he had never thought to wear a cup as he began to pull himself up the thick black cables,wrapping himself around them as the elevator began its descent.He watched,almost rapt with fascination,as the elevator slowly fell away beneath him...and fell some more...and more,until he could barely see it at all,even with his night vision.Who knew elevator shafts could be so high...or so deep?

He shook his head,closed his eyes,and forced himself to continuing going upward.He'd been in higher places-hell,he'd jumped off buildings and hung from helicopters.This was nothing in comparison.

Maybe it was just the general tomb like atmosphere;it was like a metal mausoleum,claustrophobic and far too open at the same time.He could picture dying in here quite easily,although he knew the fall would never kill him.It would just leave him crushed,spindled,and slightly mutilated,and since climbing up the cables was opening up the claw wounds in his chest again,he didn't really feel like any more pain right now.

And he was going to go fight Logan.Oh,this night kept getting better and better.What was going to happen next-he'd be pelted with flaming arrows?

He was quietly snarling by the time he had climbed level to the elevator doors,which Logan had conveniently slashed a nice big opening in,so he braced himself and lunged at the opening.At the last second he remembered that,since he hadn't been invited,he might hit an invisible barrier and plunge several stories down to the elevator below.Nice of you to think of that now, he mentally cursed himself as he desperately grabbed for the tear in the door.

He caught it,almost ripping open his palms on the sharp edge Logan had left behind,and since he wasn't repelled,he figured he wasn't close enough to the penthouse entrance to be thrown back.Yet.

Angel braced his feet against the shaft wall as best he could,reaching a questing hand inside,prepared to be propelled back...but he felt nothing but conditioned air (a welcome change from the stuffy air in the shaft) and a soft carpet.What the hell..?

Of course-the man wasn't human.Or completely human,at any rate.Cordy hadn't mentioned that, but she obviously hadn't known that fact.And neither could Logan.So what did he encounter up here?

Angel pulled himself through,and even before he stood up all the way,he smelled the blood.

No lights were on,but he could clearly see the fallen bodies lining the posh foyer:there were seven in all,from the front to the back of the foyer,where a body propped open what appeared to be some sort of access stairwell.Many had significant claw wounds,but since the majority of the fallen were serpentine Shessik demons,they'd recover,albeit slowly.One of the 'guards' was a vampire by the smell,and while she hadn't been skewered,the size of the bruise on her head,taking up roughly half her face,suggested she wouldn't be getting up any time soon.He pondered staking her,but considering she'd probably be out until next Tuesday,he figured it didn't matter.What did matter was stopping Logan before he could become an inadvertent murderer for Wolfram and Hart.

Angel just wished to god he knew how he was supposed to do that.

Energized from the bracing but brief fight on the lower level,Wolverine crept quietly up the stairs and into the upper level,which seemed to be the main living area of the suite.

Those had been bodyguards?Shit-pathetic.He could have beaten them half drunk and tied to a tree.

It was mostly dark up here too,although he heard faint,muffled humming and smelled yet another inhuman mutant.He hoped it was pathetic bodyguard number eight,because he could use the laugh.

He moved quietly through the empty,darkened kitchen,and into the impossibly large living room,which had muted,indirect light thanks to the open curtains,letting light pollution bleed in through the front window wall.In the half light,he could see sparse but expensive furniture,a carpet too plush for words,and crystals in a glass hutch on the far side of the room that glittered like ice.

He spotted the target across the room,his back still to him,humming as he poured himself a drink at the bar.He wondered how he could do that,but then he figured it was probably part of his mutation-seeing in the dark (or at least really dim light).Wouldn't be enough to save him,though.

The thick carpet easily muffled his footsteps as he crossed the room,and the man continued fixing himself an elaborate cocktail,happily humming..."The Girl From Ipanema"?He deserved to die just for that.

"Logan,don't do it,"a familiar voice said behind him.

The target jumped,dropping his glass as the humming stopped abruptly,and Wolverine spun to see the pretty boy thug from the hotel standing in the living room entryway.How the hell...he'd killed him!Maybe that was his mutation:he healed fast enough to take a claw in the heart and still keep breathing.

"I keep telling you that's not my name,asshole,"he growled,popping his claws.So he could take a claw in the heart-could he survive a decapitation?Maybe his body would run around like a chicken's with its head cut off.

"Who the hell are you people?!"The target demanded,sounding equal parts angry and terrified.

"Get the hell out of here now,"thug lite growled at him."He's here to kill you."

"Spoil the surprise,"Wolverine growled,turning back towards the target.

The target stared at his claws,wide eyed in fear,and leaped over the teak,horseshoe shaped bar as Wolverine lunged for him.The thug crashed into Wolverine's back,taking him down onto the carpet.

Wolverine bucked the guy off and instantly got to his feet,slashing at him,but he only slashed the air where he had been a second before.The thug wasn't so dumb-he moved fast.

"Think,Wolverine.What's the last thing you remember before you woke up in the hotel?"The thug said,taking refuge behind an overstuffed armchair in the corner.

Wolverine glanced behind himself,but either the target was hiding behind the bar,or he had fled the room.Goddamn it!Well,he'd get him later then-no one escaped Wolverine and lived to tell about it.

"Trying to stall,pretty boy?"He growled at the thug,pacing slowly towards him to give him a false sense of security.

"You don't know,do you?"The man continued.He appeared implacable,but Wolverine could smell his blood;he was still bleeding from the earlier claw wounds."Fifteen years gone-or is it more than fifteen?Seventeen?Twenty?You don't know at all.Why is that?Have you asked yourself where you've been all these years?"

The questions seemed to get under his skin,and he could feel his blood boil in response.He didn't want to hear this;he didn't want to think about it."On vacation,"he snarled,leaping for him with his claws extended.

The thug kicked the chair at him,and it hit him hard in the gut as the coward darted across the room,obviously trying to avoid him at all costs.Apparently he learned from the hotel incident.
Wolverine slashed the chair,shattering the back and frame,and kicked the remains away as he stalked towards him.

"Is that all you've got?"Wolverine chided.

The thug was backed up in a corner by an end table,and Wolverine expected him to grab the lamp and try and hit him with it any second now."Come on,Wolverine,are you blindly obedient?You just take orders from your handler and you don't ask why?"

"I don't have a handler anymore,"he snapped,only realizing that was the truth as it fell out of his mouth.Enigma was really gone,and he knew it.But how did he know it?He couldn't remember,he just kept seeing that thing fall,as if in slow motion,towards the ground."And I don't give a fuck what they tell me as long as I get to kill something."

"Even if they're using you?You're their meat puppet-they're pulling your strings,and you're letting them,because you were programmed to do so."

Wolverine snarled at him as he charged,lashing out with his claw in preparation for the lamp,but pretty boy surprised him by picking up the table and smashing him with it.He caught part of it with his claw,but the rest shattered on the side of his head and made him stagger back as he tried to dodge him again. Wolverine moved in spite of he sudden pain and kicked out,tripping him.He hit the ground rolling,but Wolverine snagged him with his right claw and lifted him to his feet by his coat lapel."Cute,"he told him,as he drove his left claw straight through his stomach. "But not good enough,bub."

They saw the hole in the top of the elevator as soon as they entered,and it was easy to guess what had happened as they began their slow ascent towards the highest accessible floor.

"Okay,"Gunn said,glancing up through the hole."So Logan has the claws and can do that,but Angel ain't exactly Spiderman.How did he climb up the shaft?"

"Well,vampires can jump pretty high,"Cordy opined,sounding somewhat doubtful.

"He can jump a story up?"He asked her,frowning.

"Well,what's your bright idea?"She countered,the tension making her snappish.

Wesley couldn't blame her.His stomach felt as tight as a fist,and if this desperation ploy didn't work,Angel was completely on his own with a sociopathic Wolverine,who could probably kill him without breaking a sweat.

And this hardly qualified as a long shot;it was a blind stab in the dark.But he knew they had to do something,and running after Angel would only guarantee a very bloody death for them all,as much as he didn't want to admit it.And then Logan might be lost for good,which would be one tragedy on top of another.

"Let's get started,"he said,as he finished drawing the chalk circle on the floor of the elevator, which the densely matted carpet actually made easier than he anticipated.

The three of them stepped inside of it,and Gunn sniffed the smudge stick he was able to find in the bag in the truck Angel referred to as the 'random ritual kit' (although Wesley had no idea he carried around the powdered bones of powerful Ylsarii demos-where he had gotten that?)."Why does this remind me of an Italian restaurant?"He wondered,reaching in his coat pocket for his lighter.

"It's rosemary,"Wesley replied,holding the silver sigil of Minerva tightly in his hands.

"Well,at least it won't be too stinky,"Cordelia said,placing the stone they had found (after long searching) in the center of the circle.She then opened the bottle of cheap red wine she had run off to buy from a convenience store on the corner,and asked him,"And this is necessary because..?"

"It symbolizes blood,"he said,expecting the look of disgust she gave him in reply.

"At least it's not the real thing,"Gunn pointed out,lighting the rosemary smudge stick."And we can drink the leftover part afterwards,too."

"True,"she agreed,nodding.

There was nothing helpful in the Book of Uluhtc,which Wesley had expected,but he remembered something he had scanned earlier,when trying to figure out what had happened to Icara and Logan.It was technically a spell to reverse the thrall of a telepathic Pserin demon,but it didn't explicitly mention a Pserin,and he thought perhaps it could be useful in removing anything telepathically implanted.He just hoped it,one,worked,and two,he remembered it correctly.But he had read it because he thought it might be helpful,and the ritual itself was so simple he wondered if it was a typo.