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You Are A Great Deal of Trouble, Miss Lehane.

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This story is No. 14 in the series "Faith in the Army.". You may wish to read the series introduction and the preceeding stories first.

Summary: A Faith in the Army story; “Things are changing,” El Raisuli sighed sadly, “nothing is as it was, everything is shifting on the wind; but you, Miss Lehane, will always be a great deal of trouble.”

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Movies > Other-Action(Recent Donor)DaveTurnerFR151230,74236610,3661 May 1318 May 13Yes

Chapter One

You Are A Great Deal of Trouble, Miss Lehane.
By Dave Turner.

Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or ‘Commander in Chief’ or ‘The Wind and the Lion’ or anything else you might recognise. I write these stories for fun not profit.

Crossover: The movie, ‘The Wind and the Lion’ and the TV series, ‘Commander in Chief’.

Spelling, Punctuation, and Grammar: Written in glorious English-English which is different to American-English.

Timeline: November 2009.

Words: Twelve chapters each of 2500+ words.

Warnings: Violence and harsh language.

Summary: A Faith in the Army story; “Things are changing,” El Raisuli sighed sadly, “nothing is as it was, everything is shifting on the wind; but you, Miss Lehane, will always be a great deal of trouble.”

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Where are you this moment
Only in my dreams
You're missing, but you're always
a heartbeat from me.
I’m lost now without you,
I don’t know where you are
I keep watching I keep hoping
But time keeps us apart.

If I could be close beside you,
If I could be where you are,
If I could reach out and touch you,
And bring you back home.

Is there a way I can find you?
Is there a sign I should know?
Is there a road I could follow,
to bring you back home?


‘If I Could Be Where You Are’, written by Roma Ryan and performed by Enya.

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1.

LA, early October, 1999.

Standing on the sidewalk in the early morning sunshine, Cordelia asked herself once again if she was doing the right thing. Of course she was, she answered herself almost immediately, what other choices had she got? None that she liked and that was for sure; a bleak future of either starving or something in the ‘adult’ film industry appeared to be her only alternatives.

Having left Sunnydale with such high hopes of making it big in ‘Tinsel-town’, Cordelia had had her hopes quickly and comprehensively crushed. It seemed that the world wasn’t ready for the talent that was Cordelia Chase. Okay so she’d got herself an agent, but that hadn’t helped, not really. A long line of failed auditions trailed out behind her like a ball and chain. Eventually directors had told her agent to stop sending her. With her money almost gone she’d started to go to the parties that she was still invited to just to get something to eat.

One of the things you could say about Cordelia was that deep down, were it counted the most, she was a realist; she knew exactly what would happen to her if she didn’t change what she was doing. One night at one of these parties some old guy was going to offer her a part, or maybe just money, if she’d sleep with him and she knew that she’d say ‘yes’. Principles were all fine and dandy when you’d got a full belly.

So, this was why she, Cordelia Chase, was standing outside a Marine recruitment office in a not very nice part of LA. The office looked like it had once been a shop, in fact in the window stood two shop dummies; one, a guy, dressed up in full combat gear. The other, a female dummy, was dressed in a less warlike outfit, Cordy told herself that it didn’t look so bad.

Of course this wasn’t a spur of the moment thing; Cordy had spent a few of her precious, remaining dollars in an internet café to research the United States Marine Corps online. After reading about the history of the Corps, she’d next checked out the USMC website itself. Looking at the opportunities the Corps could offer her she decided that the Marines were the people for her and best of all, she’d look real hot in those dress blues.

The prospect of all the tough training didn’t frighten her, she’d been a cheerleader since junior high, she’d had her fair share of injuries; the prospect of climbing over walls and running around didn’t frighten her. As for the more classroom orientated stuff, she knew that she could handle anything the Marine Corps could throw at her. This, Cordelia decided, was going to be easy…of course everyone has a right to be wrong.

Taking a deep breath, Cordelia walked up to the door, pushed it open and walked inside. To her left was an older man sitting behind a desk. He looked majorly smart to Cordy’s eyes with his crisp uniform and rows of medal ribbons. Ahead of her sat a woman, Cordy thought she might be an officer, who was working at another desk. Looking at the young woman, Cordy decided that her uniform didn’t look so bad either, perhaps things would turn out alright after all. Unsure who to speak to, Cordy hesitated for a moment; she was saved from her indecision when the older Marine stood up and held out his hand to her.

“Good morning,” he clasped Cordy’s hand in a firm and somehow comforting handshake, “why don’t you sit down and tell me how I can help you?”

Cordy sat down and for a moment and found she didn’t know what to say, again the Marine came to her rescue; he smiled at her in a fatherly sort of way.

“You were standing outside there for so long I thought you’d never come in,” he smiled.

“Was I that obvious?” Cordy asked with a frown.

“Sort of,” agreed the Marine, “but you look like the sort of young woman who thinks things through before making a decision…”

“You think?” Cordy laughed at herself.

“So,” the old Marine clasped his hands together and leaned towards Cordy, “tell me what the Marine Corps can do to help you?”

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Somewhere over the Yemalian Desert, Summer 2009.

“So,” Cordelia glanced over her shoulder at her door gunner, “what’s the first thing you’re going do when you get home, Sarge?”

This would be their last mission in Yemalia, Cordy just had to fly her UH1 out to a base in the desert, pick up the last few Marines still out there and then it was out to the good old Vera-Cee and then back home to the States.

“Whadda ya think, L-t?” laughed Sergeant Bevin, “Then after that I’ll take my boots off!”

“Yeah that’s right,” Cordy laughed as she shot her co-pilot, 2nd Lt Mueller, a look “you’re a married man…how many kids is it now?”

“Three, L-t,” Bevin replied, he’d missed his wife and his kids more than ever this deployment.

“And how many overseas deployments have you been on, Sergeant?” Cordy asked with a wicked grin.

“Three,” Bevin admitted.

“I can see a pattern developing,” Frank Mueller announced.

“A pattern!?” Cordy laughed, “More like a population explosion don’t you mean?”

“Yeah okay,” Bevin continued, letting the good natured hazing of his pilot slide off him like water off a duck’s back, “so, L-t whatta you gonna do ya first night back?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Cordy gazed out of the windshield as the Yemali desert slipped by underneath her, “a nice long, hot shower followed by an early night and a good book…or maybe even a movie…”

“Yeah right,” Bevin scoffed as Mueller laughed out loud.

“Hey,” Cordy glanced into the back of the chopper again, “a lady never tells…”

Before she could follow her words up with some other witty comment there was a terrific *BANG!* from the rear of the helicopter.

“Hold on!” Cordy cried as the chopper began to spin and head for the desert below them.

Struggling with the controls, Cordy realised what had happened; they’d been hit by an RPG or SAM and the tail rotor had been blown off or damaged. They were now dropping like a stone towards the desert floor and there was nothing she could do about it.

“Mayday, mayday, this is Sierra Six-nine going down,” just for a moment Cordelia found herself smiling at her stupid call-sign and what she’d just said. “Hell with this,” Cordy fought to keep the spin on her chopper to a manageable level, if she could land this thing there was a chance they’d survive, “Hello Victor-Charlie this is Valkyrie, I’ve been hit and I’m going down about half way between Camp Foxtrot and…”

The helicopter hit the desert before Cordelia could finish her message. The UH1 started to topple over on to its side almost as soon as it landed. The main rotors hit the sandy soil and threw up great clouds of dust and stones. A part of Cordy’s mind told her that she and her crew wouldn’t be going anywhere in this bird any time soon. Her world dissolved into one of dust, sand, lumps of rock and scrub, smoke and pain. There was a sharp pain in her legs followed by darkness.

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Waking up, Cordy found that, much to her amazement, she was still alive although she was beginning to think that wasn’t such a good thing. It felt like both her legs had been broken. Turning her head, a wave of nausea made her wish she hadn’t as she saw the lifeless body of her co-pilot still hanging in his seat from his safety harness. A piece of rotor blade had taken his head clean off. Struggling to see into the back of the chopper she turned and found the cargo area empty, there was no sign of Sergeant Bevin.

“Shit! Damn!” Cordy gasped, Bevin must have been thrown out of the chopper and killed, Cordy imagined the look on Ruth Bevin’s face when Cordy had to tell her how her husband had died, “God-damn-it!” Cordy brushed the tear from her cheek and then tried her radio again.

“Victor-Charlie, Victor-Charlie this is Valkyrie, I’m…” the words died on Cordy’s lips as she realised her radio was dead, there wasn’t even any static. “Oh my life just gets better and better,” she complained, “but, at least I’m alive…” it was about then that she heard voices approaching her position through the bush, “…yeah, me and my big mouth!”

Searching for her pistol, Cordy just managed to pull it from its holster in time to have it snatched from her hand by a local rebel. Strong brown hands reached into the shattered flightdeck and grabbed hold of her. Pulled roughly from her seat she screamed as the broken ends of the bones in her legs were jarred and rubbed together. Almost passing out from the pain she could feel herself being dragged across the sand away from the wreck. Her flight helmet was pulled off roughly almost taking her head with it. When the rebels saw her long hair and realised she was a woman a great shout went up from the throats of the men as they started to pull open her flight suit.

Lying there helplessly as what felt like hundreds of hands pulled at her clothes and mauled her body, Cordelia started to cry, was this it? Was this how a promising career in the Marine Corps was going to end; was her journey from Sunnydale going to end here in a stinking desert, gang raped to death by a bunch of savages? She had so much left to do, so much left to give, so much…

The burst of gunfire caused the men who were abusing her to stop what they were doing and back off. Managing to turn her head slightly, Cordy saw a tall Arab dressed in mismatched pieces of camouflaged uniform step into her field of vision. The man gazed at the rebel fighters as if they were the lowest sort of bugs you could imagine, the look he gave her wasn’t that much better, but at least he hadn’t pointed his AK 47 at her or looked as if he was going to rape her any time soon.

“This infidel woman,” the Arab spoke loudly in the kind of voice that expected to be obeyed, “belongs to Mulai Ahmed el Raisuli, Lord of the Riff, and he wants her alive.”

Moments later, Cordy found herself being lifted, none too gently, onto a stretcher. There was a sharp pain in her right thigh as someone injected her with morphine and she felt herself being lifted up. The big Arab came to stand next to her stretcher; he reached out and took hold of Cordelia’s collar to read her rank badges.

“Do not worry Lef-tenant,” Cordy noted that he’d pronounced Lieutenant like a Brit would, “I am Gayaan, who some call ‘the Terrible’, I have killed more that forty men with my knife but never,” Gayaan the Terrible smiled down at Cordy (which didn’t exactly fill her with confidence), “but never have I killed a woman…”

“Good to know,” Cordy mumbled.

“My Master, el Raisuli, has plans for you,” Gayaan’s smile got wider, “you will be safe and well treated, now rest…”

“Get no argument from me,” Cordy smiled as the morphine took control of her body and she fell into a deep sleep.”

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Mogador International Airport, Yemalia, January 2010.

Sitting on her stool in the airport bar, Faith sipped her tonic water before glancing at her watch. In another few minutes her target would arrive; they’d share a drink then they’d go back to Faith’s hotel room. There Faith’d quietly slip her dagger between the Houri’s ribs and kill her just like she’d been asked to by the CIA.

The thought that she might be betraying the girl-demon into thinking that she was just another lover didn’t bother Faith; she knew all about betrayal. General Brittles, Colonel Finn, Buffy Finn and worst of all Willow, Willow’s betrayal had hurt the most. They’d all known about her past before she’d been in a coma for eight months and they’d never told her anything about it after she’d woken up with amnesia. But now they were all paying for their silence, one way or another.

The doctors had said that the memory loss was probably a by product of the things that Professor Walsh had done to her as she’d turned Faith into a Frankenstein experiment, a Super-Soldier to be sent on missions too dangerous for normal soldiers. Of course now the memories had come back, some stuff was still a little hazy but what was crystal clear was the way Willow had betrayed her. After two years of being together why couldn’t she have just explained? Why had she tried to keep the secret that it seemed everyone but Faith had known?

A light touch on Faith’s arm made her turn her head to see the girl smiling into her eyes, her target had arrived. The girl; no, Faith reminded herself that this ‘girl’ was in fact a demon who’d killed several American agents, was indeed beautiful. Her big brown eyes were like liquid pools that Faith felt herself start to drown in. Taking a deep breath Faith snapped back to the here and now. Deep down she knew it was all part of the demon’s seductive spell and if she fell for it she’d just end up another dead agent…but; but there was no reason not to have a little fun first.

After a couple of drinks and some small talk the Houri suggested that they might go somewhere more private so ‘they could get to know each other better’. Going outside into the street Faith called for a cab to take them to her hotel on the sea front. In the cab there was more talk and touching. By the time they arrived at Faith’s hotel the demon-girl must have thought that Faith was well under her spell. Going up to Faith’s room they almost tore each other’s clothes off before falling into bed.

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After their bout of frantic love making the two young women got up from the sweat damp sheets and headed for the shower. There under the hot water, Faith slipped her knife between the girl’s ribs. Watching the surprised look in the girl’s eyes as she died, Faith felt nothing. No remorse, no pity, she’d simply completed the mission she’d been given. Tomorrow she’d report in to the CIA section head on a mission successfully completed. By the end of the day she’d be on a flight back to the States, once there she’d take the weekend to go visit her Mom and Dad in Washington DC.

Resting the body on the floor of the bathroom, Faith washed the blood off herself and her knife. Giving the dead Houri one last look she grabbed some towels before going back into her bedroom to dry off and dress, the sooner she was out of here the better.

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