Part 6
Daltry Gun and Munitions
Pasadena, California
“Now this is about as good as you’ll find,” Joseph Daltry stated. He held up a riflescope for Ramius’ inspection. “This is a Nikon Titanium. It has 5.5 to 16 times magnification and 44 millimeter adjustable objective. It’s one-piece construction. Multicoated lenses for light transmission and contrast. Nitrogen filled and O-ring sealed. With this son of a bitch, you could take out a cat at 400 yards.”
Ramius carefully took the scope for examination. “This is perfect,” he said. “I’ve been looking for a good long range scope.”
“Well sir,” Daltry said, “this is about as good a sight as you’re going to find. The only way you’ll get one better is getting it through the military. And let me tell ya, them boys do not like to relinquish one of their toys.”
Daltry and Ramius laughed at that. “I know,” Ramius joked. “Don’t think I didn’t try. But they wouldn’t let me in the door. But I did have a friend who manage to get me something pretty sweet.”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Daltry asked curiously.
“A Winchester Model 70 Stealth,” Ramius informed him.
“No shit? Those are sweet. How’d you get a hold of one of those?”
“My brother in law is a sniper for the Chicago Police. What can I say? He made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Oh, how much is the scope?” Ramius reached for his pocket to retrieve the money he ‘liberated’ from Hannah Morse’s account.
“Most shops will sell for about $515. I’ll let you have it for $475.” Ramius followed the shop owner to the register and paid for the scope. “Thank you for your business and happy hunting.”
Ramius grinned. “I’m sure it will be. Have a nice day.” Ramius continued to smile widely as he exited the shop.
He slipped on his shades and crossed the street to his car. “Man, people sure are friendly.”
***
Hilton Hotel
Los Angeles, California
“Hey Chrissy!” Mark Weber called out. “Mail call!”
Christine Carpenter poked her head from the office. “And that interests me why?”
Mark gave a quasi-evil in her direction. “Come here and collect the bills.” Christine stuck her tongue out at him. “That’s real mature.”
Christine came over and took the proffered envelopes. “Electric, telephone, water, heating,” she called out as she flipped through the stack. It was then that she looked up and noticed the huge package resting on the counter.
“What the hell is that?”
Mark noticed where she was looking. “I have no idea. UPS delivered it earlier. Evidently belongs to someone who is going to check in later. That is for a Mister John Ramius.”
“Jesus, it’s big enough for a grandfather clock.” The package was about five feet in length. Christine grabbed the package and put it underneath the counter. “As if things weren’t strange enough already.”
“No kidding. I think Secret Service is installing the metal detectors right now. A lot of hoopla for that fundraiser tomorrow.”
“You know you’ve hit it big time when you get to host a money making scheme for some damn Congressman.”
“Ooh, harsh words,” Mark teased.
“Damn right,” Christine said. “I’m a Republican.”
***
Hyperion Hotel
“Hey everybody!” Angel called out. “Look what I brought home!”
“Cordy!” Fred shouted. She raced to the Hyperion’s entrance and nearly tackled Cordelia in a hug. Gunn was only a few seconds behind. “I’m glad you’re home!”
“Same here, demon-girl,” Gunn smiled.
Cordelia never stopped grinning as she hugged Fred and then Gunn. “It’s good to be home. Padded walls and floors are cool for a while, but give me tile under my feet and crappy wallpaper any day.”
Neither Gunn nor Fred failed to notice that Angel had yet to quit touching Cordelia. As soon as the hugs stopped, Angel didn’t hesitate to take Cordelia’s hand in his own. Angel allowed Cordy to lead him through the lobby to the offices.
It was there that Buffy, Xander, and Dawn were busy pouring a deep blue powder into Ziploc bags.
“Hey guys,” Cordelia said. “Working hard or hardly working?”
Dawn immediately tattled on Xander. “Cordy, Xander made me mix the Flava Weed and the Sumetran dust!”
Buffy and Cordelia immediately turned death glares on him. “You moron!” Cordelia exclaimed.
“Yeah!” Buffy agreed. “Explosive if mixed improperly, remember?”
“Hey!” Xander defended meekly. “I made sure to watch her pour..from a safe distance.”
“That’s no..oh man!” Cordelia’s hand went up to her head as the vision hit. Angel immediately noticed the grimace on her face and understood what it meant.
“Take your time,” Angel soothed. “Take your time and then tell us what you see.”
“I’m thinking this is another one of those important things we missed,” Xander observed.
“It’s a manifestation of the Powers,” Fred explained to the Scoobies. “Cordelia receives a vision through the celestial pipeline. Most of the time it’s a warning of bad things to come.”
“Oh yeah,” Cordelia quipped. “That’s a manifestation alright.” She shook off the grogginess that sometimes accompanied her visions. She didn’t hurt afterwards anymore, but sometimes it felt like she had just woken up from taking Nyquil or something.
“What did you see, Cor?”
“I saw a blonde woman. Ramius. He’s stolen someone’s identity and he’ll use that as his access. I saw something else, but it’s confusing,” a perplexed Cordelia said.
“What do you mean?”
“A choice,” she said as she looked to Angel. “You’ll have to make a choice..about me.”
Now that was strange. “What do you mean, a choice?” Angel asked.
The frustration and confusion on Cordelia’s face was evident. “I don’t know. It was just a sensation that you would have to make a choice.”
“You see all that in your head?” Buffy asked.
“Some of it,” Cordelia said. “Some of it is sight. Some is sound. Oftentimes it’s more like a sensation.”
“Well that’s good right?” Dawn asked. “If it’s a blonde woman, that narrows it down who we need to look for.”
“It’s something to work with,” Fred agreed. She didn’t hesitate to fire up her laptop. “I won’t be able to research ticket holders, but I might be able to access hotel staff and people affiliated with the fundraiser.”
“Good thinking,” Cordelia said. “If you can, try to find photographs. Concentrate on Doyle’s staffers. They’ll have closer contact to him.”
“And therefore a better chance to make the hit,” Buffy finished. “That sounds like a plan.”
“But we still need to do better,” Angel insisted. “If Ramius feels threatened, he can change shape in a heartbeat. What we need is to be able to zero in on him immediately and hit him with Hecate’s Essence so he can’t shape shift.”
“Well Fred downloaded some blueprints from the Internet. Maybe if we know the lay of the building we can come up with something,” Gunn said.
The gang gathered around the printouts. They were soon discussing battle plans, all the while hoping that Fred could give them the break they so desperately needed.
***
Hilton Hotel
It took ten minutes of searching before security was content that Ramius’ suitcase didn’t contain any weapons.
“We’re sorry, sir,” Kevin Richardson, Chief of Security for the event spoke. “It’s just with Congressman Doyle being here, as well as the mayor and several others, we need to be extra cautious with security.”
“It’s absolutely no problem,” Ramius said kindly. “You can never be too careful.” Ramius gathered up his suitcase and moved along, allowing Richardson to attend to the next person.
He crossed the lobby and noticed the carpenters working in the ballroom to get things ready for the next day. When he approached the desk, an attractive redhead greeted him.
“Hello. My name is Christine. How may I help you?”
“Hello, Christine,” Ramius smiled. “I believe I should have a suite reserved. My name is John Ramius.”
“Oh, yes sir,” Christine confirmed. “Your package has arrived as well.”
“Excellent! Would it be possible to have it sent to my room?” Ramius pulled out his wallet and showed his ID.
“Of course, sir.” Christine reached under the desk and grabbed the keycard for his room. “Your room is number 583. I’ll have your package sent up shortly.”
“Thank you, Christine.” Ramius took the keycard and grabbed his suitcase. In minutes, he was unlocking the door to his home for the evening. Shortly thereafter, his package arrived.
Opening the package, he pulled out four plastic boxes. The first contained the Winchester rifle. The second contained his pistol, the silencer, and an ammo clip. The third held his newly purchased riflescope, and the fourth contained a magazine full of the appropriate cartridges.
Ramius quickly attached the scope and inserted the magazine.
“Be very, very quiet,” he spoke. “I’m hunting a congressman.”