Hello, this is my first fanfiction story. It's the result of a bit of plot that just would not get out of my head until I wrote it down. So - here's the result. I would welcome any constructive criticism. As always, I don't own the characters.
Chapter One: The Crash
Methos sat sprawled out on the couch in a cabin in the wilds of Canada, a book resting in his hands and a beer sitting on the coffee table in front of the open fire. Macleod was away in Paris antique hunting and Joe went with him, so he figured it would be the ideal time to catch up with the new developments in the filed of medicine.
Ever since his time as Dr Benjamin Adams, he would periodically read some medical journals and a textbook or two so his knowledge in the field didn't get too rusty. It served him well when, a few years ago, he needed to patch up Joe after he was gunned down by the immortal Galati at Watchers' HQ. It had turned out well in the end, but it made him realise that his medical skills were rusty and it would be worth spending a bit more time improving them. Perhaps, when his Adam Pearson persona was finally ready to retire, he would return to being a doctor.
So, with Mac and Joe out of town, he had found this cabin. The brochure promised a quiet, luxury, retreat from the the world in the wilderness with promising nature walks and fishing nearby. The cabin was half a day's travel from the main road, but had all the modern conveniences, of home including internet access, despite its remote location. It was expensive, and well beyond anything Adam Pearson could ever afford; which is why he memorised Mac's credit card number and used that when he had made the booking for himself. He grinned at that. The Highlander would eventually find out, but in the meantime he would enjoy his luxury retreat.
A loud rumbling noise caused him to look up form his reading. The sound increased in intensity and the cabin started to shake. It sounded almost like a very low flying aircraft was passing nearby. He sat up quickly, dropped his book on the coffee table, and went outside walking onto the drive where he had parked his truck and looking up at the sky. The noise was deafening now accompanied by a strong wind consistent with a low flying aircraft passing directly overhead, only the sky was clear and bright, with the late afternoon sun shining brightly. There was was no plane in sight or any passing shadow of one. He knew that this cabin wasn't in the path of any airlines and there was no airfield on the mountain, so what was making the noise?
The sound passed from overhead and was replaced by a large booming sound about a mile away, up the mountain. The ground shook fiercely with the shockwave of the impact and he flinched and instinctively widened his stance to keep his balance. Just as soon as the shockwave passed it was quiet again. The sounds of the forest were also stilled.
He watched the trees in the distance for a moment or two, looking for smoke or fire from where he heard the object come down. No smoke appeared and the forest continued to remain quiet. The impact of the object had been close. It would be a short walk up the mountain to get to where he estimated the object crashed. He hadn't seen anything pass overhead, but every other sense was telling him that something had come down in the forest. He remembered reading in the news about new military stealth technology; so perhaps one of their test planes had crashed? He knew this area was fairly secluded but someone else may have also heard the noise, and, if that was the case, he could count on visitors within a few hours. If he wanted to investigate, he would need to do it now.
He frowned and went back inside the cabin. He could just let it be, get back to his reading, and if anyone came to investigate the crash, he could genuinely deny any knowledge of it. However, he was also curious, and assuming it was a stealth craft, the pilot may need help. Besides it wasn't far. He sighed softly to himself, shaking his head, decision made. He'd been spending too much time with the bloody boy scout. He grabbed his backpack, stuffing the cabin's first aid kit into the pack, followed by a bottle of water, a granola bar and a large torch.
He had time to have a quick look before anyone else got here. After all it wasn't every day you got to see and invisible plane up close, assuming that's what it was. He grabbed a few knives and hid them about his person, and checked his gun, making sure it was loaded, before stuffing it into his pocket. He didn't survive 5000 years by not being careful. He debated bringing his sword, but, if other people were coming soon, a sword would just risk questions that he wasn't willing to answer. He glanced at his watch and set out up the mountain toward the crash site. He had another two hours before dusk and it wouldn't take long to get to the crash site.