Chapter Twenty Nine

Scotland

A few days later, Frank McFadden collected the special delivery at the Perth Airport that came from his contact inside Russia. They traveled next to Glenshee and parked outside City Hall.

Leaving the car and package with Connor and Cassandra, Frank went straight to the office of Keith Patrick. Bypassing the secretary, he knocked once and entered like an old friend he said, "Keith, how are you?"

A man in his fifties with gray on his temples looked up with surprise and replied, "Not too bad, you old goat." Standing up he went over to shake his hand asking, "What brings you to my corner of Scotland?"

McFadden went to the chair and adjusted it, he sat down stating, "What I have to tell you is serious and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."

Keith sat down opposite him and matched his expression telling him, "I haven't seen you since I was a young man, Frank. I thought you had forgotten me."

McFadden's face softened a little and he said, "Forget the boy who showed me kindness? Again as a young man, you kept an important secret. Never, Keith you are always in my thoughts."

Keith then asked, "What can I do for you? I'm only the mayor of a small town."

"But your town will soon become a part of history." He replied, "This is what I need."

McFadden went into detail about the Gathering of Immortals. The implications and what it meant for humankind. His request was simple; the ongoing story is a truck explosion that made a toxic gas cloud containing certain harsh chemicals that will make the area uninhabitable for a short period.

Mr. Patrick said, "Impossible Frank, you are asking me to help clear a sixteen kilometer radius and keep it empty for a week until after you have this gathering. Why not make it a hundred?"

"Yes that would be possible?" Frank nodded and held out an envelope saying, "I have $50,000 in funds to help you get started along with Incapacitants that will not harm anyone."

Keith rubbed his face with indecision. Going to his desk, he took out a paper and quietly began writing down notes. McFadden watched and waited knowing it was going his way.

Finally, Keith said, "It might be possible for the sixteen kilometers. I'll need to get a truck from someone who won't question me and explosions rigged to detonate at night."

Flipping through his phone book he said, "I have the right man to call but can you spare, ah, one of your kind that can be trusted to drive the truck?"

Frank smiled and replied, "Yes I think I have someone who can help with that part." Standing up he gave Keith a card saying, "Here is my number. I'll send over a friend with the code word, "Othello" then you will know it's him."

"Quoting Shakespeare again," he replied, "Fine, during this next week, I'll pretend I'm on vacation."

"I wish I were," Frank said, "This next week will be very intense." Shaking his hand in farewell saying, "Until then my friend be careful, don't tell anyone and I'll call you when it's over."

"I will be careful," he promised, "I hope you do call me because if you don't, it means that the good guys lost."

Keith Patrick shut his door and went to work arranging for the truck and cover story. He was also thinking about the extraordinary news of immortals and their fight against a demon.

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Immortals and watchers waited for the timing of the gathering to signal the countdown. Everyone felt it. Even leaders around the world suddenly focused on internal strife. There were skirmishes breaking out in every corner of the world. Lawlessness and corruption wreaking havoc until the very fabric of civilization threatened to tear apart.

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Matthew Jameson faced a sad day for all watchers concerned. He personally notified fifty families that their sons were murdered. They died in vain killed by a demon in a war ordered by a maniac.

He sent a group of cleaners to Scotland, collected the bodies, and took care of the situation so no report would make it back to the authorities. The cleaner's job was to take away the bodies from immortal combats but this task made everyone grieve.

Now only a few chosen watchers were on the way to Scotland. This made the Watcher President wary of the outcome. He questioned, "Will they also be killed?"

Next, he put in a call to Kingsley asking, "What are your stats on the outcome of the gathering?"

Hesitantly Kingsley answered, "There may be variations we are not aware that could tip the scales in our favor."

Matt asked him, "You mean to tell me that the immortals that fight for Duncan MacLeod might lose?"

Kingsley answered sadly, "The mathematical computations don't lie."

The Watcher President wrestled with the bad news. He said, "I won't accept that conclusion. Get back to your numbers and find me a solution."

"Other than a miracle, I have nothing to work with." Kingsley answered with frustration. "Is there anyone watching the Grand Immortal that could tell me what he is planning?"

Matthew considered this and replied, "I'll call his watcher and find out. This may be our only hope."

Ending the phone call, Matthew turned back to his computer. He went deeper into the watcher files searching until he found a name.

.