Chapter Eighteen

He lay motionless against the low barrier, drifting through a dark internal landscape. Somewhere, friends needed help, and enemies were close, but the effort required to surmount the obstacles between himself and those around him seemed huge.

Suddenly, two sounds broke the inner stillness. One was a man's cry of agony, the cry of a friend in dire need. The second was even more familiar, a woman's voice chanting "No, no, no …"

Eyes snapped open, just as a hush of silence fell over the room once more. The wailing guitars ceased as the eyes quickly catalogued position and resources. Recognizing the wall, and his position against it, a hand snaked out to retrieve the stiletto taped under the small ledge beside him.

As the dirge-like gongs of "Hell's Bells" began to sound ominously through the arena, a small smile crossed his face, never reaching the cold eyes that looked for the nearest target.

Levering himself upward slowly, he focussed on Silas. The big man had his back turned as he removed his laser tag vest. Ease of movement had obviously become more of a priority than watching the man crumpled beside the wall.

Easing forward cautiously, stiletto extended, he slid easily into a blind spot behind Silas. With a quick swipe of the blade, he sliced through his larger opponent's right hamstring. Silas cried out in pain just as the first guitar chords of the song rang out, effectively swallowing the noise. As Silas gazed up at him with eyes full of hurt and anger, he efficiently sliced the other hamstring.

Straightening, he quickly removed his own vest and laser rifle. Whereas Silas had fussed with the buckles, he sliced through the straps with his razor sharp blade. Dropping the vest on the bigger man, he turned one last cold gaze upon his brother, then slipped into the darkness.

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Kronos greeted the sound of the AC DC anthem with a small smile. This song was Silas' signal to bring Methos to the other base. The instructions had been simple: stab Methos in the heart and bring him to this base with the blade still in his chest. Kronos was eagerly anticipating the moment when he pulled the knife free and looked into his wayward brother's eyes, savoring the dawning awareness of his hopeless situation.

Leaning over the still stunned Cassandra, he grabbed her by the hair, unconsciously mimicking Caspian's earlier action in bringing his lips close to her ear.

"This time, you will not escape me, woman." The harsh whisper slid across Cassandra's neck, causing her to shiver. "When we are finished with you, you will be begging for death. Ah, but wait, you begged for Death before, didn't you? He will no more save you now, than he did then."

Seeing MacLeod begin to stir beside him, Kronos dropped Cassandra to the floor once more. "Watch her," he yelled to Caspian.

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The shadows along the west wall of the arena yielded more weapons to his eager hands. Some were placed in pockets, others tucked into boots and the waistband of his jeans. As he gathered them, he continued to make his way swiftly and silently toward the opposite base.

Edging along a false wall in the southwest corner, he finally got a glimpse of his prey. Kronos was moving to the left, his sword drawn and pointed threateningly at someone on the floor. Caspian leaned on a low wall, nonchalantly menacing with knife in hand.

Crouching low, he darted across the open space between the false wall and an eight-foot wall at right angles to it. Ducking once more into the shadows, he planned the next leg of his strike. Calculating angles, and the likelihood of being heard over the pounding beat of the music, he dared a quick glance around the wall to ensure his prey remained stationary.

An athletic dive, and two quick rolls resulted in having his back flush against the low wall Caspian was seated upon. He had figured his trajectory correctly, and was almost directly behind his least favourite brother. As he prepared to move again, the music stopped, and he decided to bide his time a little longer.

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The cessation of the music coincided with Duncan MacLeod's final burst of healing. Releasing one last groan, he tried to sit up. Kronos' sword met that effort, at neck level.

"Well MacLeod, how do you like your visit with the Horsemen so far?" Kronos punctuated his question with increased pressure against Duncan's vulnerable neck.

"Don't invite me back next year." MacLeod tried to use his sarcasm to distract Kronos long enough to throw a glance toward Cassandra. Kronos was having none of it, and backhanded the Highlander viciously.

"Don't bother looking at her, she's already dead. So are you for that matter. Once my brother arrives, you will be of one final use to me. Your death will reunite the Horsemen for the last time." As Kronos spoke those words, the sound of a demented laugh shrieked through the hidden speakers, signalling the beginning of the next song.

Caspian grinned as he recognized Black Sabbath's "Paranoid" ringing through the arena. Kronos was not so amused, however. Silas should have been here by now, he thought. Something was going horribly wrong.

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As he crouched behind the wall, his suspicions were confirmed. Both MacLeod and Cassandra were at the mercy of his former brothers. Breathing quietly, he waited for the music to begin again; that would be his signal to move.

He exploded into action at the first sound of the staccato guitar chords. Rising swiftly, he turned to slide behind Caspian. Catching the other man's head with his left hand, his right hand drove the stiletto between the ribs, angling up to pierce the lungs and nick the heart.

Cassandra, surprised by the flurry of movement, looked up to see the point of the dagger protruding from Caspian's chest. Before she had time to even comment on that happy event, he was over the wall and striding toward Kronos' exposed back.

Reaching behind his back, he pulled the short-barrelled .44 Magnum out of his waistband. Snicking off the safety, he stepped forward and thrust the barrel under Kronos' jaw. The whole procedure was complete before MacLeod's face could reveal his presence.

Grabbing Kronos' sword, he risked a moment to shoot at the most likely location of the hidden speaker. In the relative silence that resulted, his cold voice was clear.

"Do you think this gun could completely blow your head off?"