*Author's Note: This is a sequel to my story Highlander Journey through Realities. Please Read and Review.*

Prologue: Bad Guys don't die easy.

The comma wing of the St. Michael Hospital as well the rest of the hospital was long over do for a fresh coat of paint. Funding for the hospital had eroded slowly over the years till it was struggling to keep the short term care operations going. The long term care facility which had once been a model of care had become a disgrace. Yet, there was little the doctors or nurse had been able to do, and most had long given up hope of saving the hospital from its slow demise.

In those long ago times when funding had not been a problem the comma wing had a twenty four hour staff, and a night shift that was as large as the day staff. Over time that staff had dwindled to just one doctor, three nurses, and a single security guard to monitor over sixty patients. The guard was a balding man in his fifties named Jen Osteque who had been around since the good old days that everyone talked about, but never really describe.

Jen reclined against the back of his chair, and cursed the fact that he had forgotten his coffee thermos that night. Why do I do this? He thought. I sit here every night watching a bunch of vegetables with the I.Q. of shit. The pay is bad, the hours are lousy, and soon I will be let go.

"God I could use a drink," he said. Waite? Why not? If I am going to get fired anyway why should I care if these brain dead fucks? Taking a careful look around, and then a quick glance at the security monitors Jen dragged himself from his chair. Moving carefully he headed for the elevators.

As Jen Osteque exited the building he bumped into a tall thin man whose face was hidden by shadow. The man wore a long grey trench coat with a bright blue backpack strapped to his back.

"I'm sorry, monsieur," Jen Osteque said.

The man smiled, "Don't worry about it Monsieur Osteque."

Only later would he think it odd that the man knew his name, and the thought would terrify him.

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Well, well so the old man decides to leave his post for a little drink? This is going to be easier then I believed. Mark Daniels laughed. With the one inept guard leaving for a late night drink getting access to the comma wing was absurdly easy. The long lines of men and women stretched out in rooms attached to machines that kept them alive. Most nights he would have taken his time to enjoy himself by using these useless people to practice his sword work, but tonight he had a mission.

"It's time to kill an old friend. God I get funnier the more I die. Maybe I should do it more often."

He'd stolen the plans for the hospital a few nights earlier so even though the lights were dim Mark knew which room to enter. Inside he found two beds both were John Does found without Identification, or any other means of identifying the men. Mark couldn't help but laugh at the irony of it all as he starred down at the man he had come to see. The moonlight in the room made the man's face as clear as if he'd been there during the day.

"Hello, Jake. I see you're not doing so well. I guess falling off a cliff just doesn't sit well with you, does it?" Daniels asked as he moved to the side of Jake's bed slipping the backpack underneath the bed at the same time. Daniels then removed a small camera from his coat, and took a couple quick photos of Jake laying in the bed.

"Ironic that despite your best efforts every time you try and kill me you end up giving me a great gift? You really are the best friend a megalomaniac could ever have. First you build the machine to take me here, and then you kill me and make me immortal. I wish there was some way I could repay you for all you have done for me, but I can't so I'm just going to kill you."

Daniels reached inside his coat pocket, and drew a brand new .44 caliber magnum revolver placing the barrel right next to Jake's head. The shots went off in rapid succession with the last two aimed for the chest, and not the blood mess of what was left of his skull. Placing the gun back in its holster, Daniels smiled one last time at the dead body of his friend then turned left.

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Fifteen minutes later just as Jen Osteque was returning to the hospital there was a large explosion. Jen was knocked to his feet as the comma wing turned into a gigantic death trap. The explosion leveled almost the entire hospital, and started fires in whatever was left. Anyone still in there had to be dead.

Jen pushed himself from the ground, and looked across the street. There was the man he had bumped into earlier with a strange smile on his face.