(Giles' place. Giles tries to extract the tracking device from Spike's flesh)

SPIKE: Oww! Watch it. That hurts.

GILES: It doesn't appear to be a bullet. It's too deeply embedded to be a tranquilizer dart.

SPIKE: (grumble) Also not tranquil.

GILES: Some sort of . . . illumination emanating from it. It's blinking.

SPIKE: I don't care if it's playing 'Rockin' the Casbah' on the bloody Jew's harp, (human growling) just get it out of me!

GILES: Anya, there's a bottle of Cognac in the cabinet next to the sink. Can you get it for me?

SPIKE: What? You're gonna get snockered now?

GILES: It's not for me, you prat. If I'm gonna operate on you then I need you in anesthetized. It's going to take some time.

XANDER: We don't have any. That blinking thing. My pseudo-soldier memory bank tells me that's a tracer.

GILES: A what?

SPIKE: A what?

XANDER: It's like a homing beacon. And if commando guys are reading the signal, they're coming home.

(Anya returns with the bottle and offers it to Spike. He grabs it and takes a healthy swig.)

GILES: Well, we need to buy some time. It's in deep and I'm no surgeon.

• Spike's uneasy truce with the gang

written by: David Fury; Transcribed by Joseph B. Full transcript at:
http://www.studiesinwords.de/69theiinteam.html