Chapter Eight: The Last Temptation of Joe Dawson
Of course, in the end it was a threat to Joe that brought the Old Man to the Highlander's door again, for Duncan would always be there for Joe, wouldn't he...?
A week had passed and all was quiet. Too quiet according to Methos. Amanda checked in with him every day, and, apart from saying that neither Mac nor Joe wanted to see anyone, there was nothing to report. Methos had begun studying, which was difficult when he didn't really know what he was looking for. But he was determined, and that had worked for him many times in the past. He'd get to the bottom of this, had to get to the bottom of it, if it killed him. The phone ring interrupting his reading on early Druic legends of mind control. Yep, it was Amanda's check-in time.
"Yes, Amanda?" he answered the phone, not unpleasantly.
"Sorry, Amanda couldn't make it", a male voice answered.
"Who is this?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. I have some information for you. Some...friends of mine recently paid a visit to a friend of yours. If you want to see Joe alive again and if you want to prevent your girlfriend suddenly loosing her head, I suggest you meet us at the 2nd warehouse by the docks. Tonight, midnight. And bring MacLeod."
"Who...?"
"And don't try anything, Methos, cos we're watching you."
The phone went dead and Methos slowly replaced the handset with a shaking hand. They had Joe. Oh Gods, they had Joe! And Amanda. And they knew he was Methos. And they were watchers. It was starting. Whatever it was, it was starting. And, last of all, now he had to go and get MacLeod. With an effort only built up through his 5000 years he managed to put back on a mask of control and went to face Mac, feeling as if any last semblance of control of himself and his emotions was leaving him with every step.
"Duncan! Duncan I know you're in there! Duncan, Duncan!! Open up. It's important Highlander. For Gods sake, open this door NOW! Before I break it down. DUNCAN!"
After ten minutes of banging on Duncan's door Methos stopped to draw breath. 'Damn that Stubborn Scot' he thought. Deciding finally that Duncan was never going to open the door, Methos started away from the dojo and towards the docks, when there came a small click and the door opened a fraction.
"What the Hell do you want?"
"It's Joe. He's been kidnapped. So has Amanda. They're watchers, and they asked for us, both of us, to meet them at the docks in five minutes time. I don't care what you say, Highlander, you are coming with me. For Joe, for all that man's ever done for you."
Not saying a word, not looking at the other man, Duncan silently went to fetch his coat and the two set off.
"I don't know you've done to me Highlander, but suddenly I feel duty bound to go and rescue Joe and Amanda", Methos said, trying to get any reaction out of the other man.
"So, you've finally got honour. Took you long enough. A bit of a late developer were you Methos?"
"Sorry, Mac, your honour may have rubbed off on me but my sarcasm just doesn't suit you at all", Methos replied with a small smile. Duncan just ignored him. Methos gave up. He'd deal with Mac later. Right now, he had more important things to worry about. Like renegade Watchers.
To Methos' surprise, when they reached the warehouse, there were ten men waiting for them, all Watchers who Methos knew fairly well. And Joe was at the front of the group. Amanda was in a chair in a corner, tied and gagged and with a knife in her chest. Methos turned towards Joe.
"Joe, are you alright? What's going on?"
Joe walked towards him. Duncan was still impassive, his eyes staring at nothing.
"Alright? Actually, I've never felt better." It was then that Methos saw the most extraordinary thing. Joe Dawson was walking, normally, and without a cane.
"Joe. What...Your legs?! How?"
"Aren't they great, just like new. They're a little gift."
'From who Joe, and what did they get in return?' Methos thought dismairly.
"Why don't you have a seat boys?" the bartender asked, and before he knew what was happening he and Duncan had both been grabbed from behind, arms twisted behind them. As he fought, Methos was immensely glad to see Duncan doing likewise, but there were too many and soon both men were tied to chairs, arms tied together behind their backs and feet to the chair legs.
"What do you want?" asked Methos.
"Simple", replied one of the men. "We want you with us..."
"Or dead", finished another.
Methos gazed at Joe but the man seemed perfectly at ease. 'Joe, oh, Joe, what have you done?' he thought.
Thinking quickly, wanting to gain time, Methos replied.
"Well, now, I haven't lived 5000 years by wanting to die. So, I guess the question is, what do I have to do if I join you?"
"Good choice. Well, for a start, you can kill her", the Watcher answered, gesturing towards Amanda.
"No!" shouted Duncan. Inwardly Methos was pleased that something had gotten through to his friend, even if he did pick the worst moments.
"We weren't asking you, MacLeod. Wait your turn."
"Why", asked Methos, not a little curious.
"We don't need her. Beside, it's what you do, isn't it. It's the Game. Why not kill her?"
"Uh-huh. And what about the Watcher oath of non-interferance? Isn't that part of the Game?"
"Sorry, don't believe in that, we're modern Watchers, sick of you Immortals taking the limelight all the time and wasting it. You'd be nothing without us Watchers!"
"Really?" remarked Methos, bidding his time, the wheels turning and the gears shifting inside his mind.
"So, then what, we kill who you want us to, you choose who gets the prize?"
"That's part of it. But, you Methos can give us so much more."
"More...?"
"Oh, come on Old Man, now's no time to be illusive," commented Joe, who looked to be enjoying himself.
"After 5000 years you must have some answer!" he continued.
"Answer, answer to what?"
"To the greatest question of all. To mortality, and Immortality. Why are we here? Why are there Immortals?"
So that was what it was all about, was it.
"Come on, Joe, you should know better than this. This is crazy. If I knew do you think I'd be here, do you think I'd have slipped quietly into the Watchers and led a peaceful life for the past decade? I know no more than you do. All my long lifeline has given me is 5000 years of everyday living, of work and families and friends, of experiences and places. And all that that experience has taught me is that maybe there are some things we just aren't meant to know. Part of why we evolve is to find answers, our own answers that suit us best. If we knew those answers we would stop searching, stop studying, stop evolving. We'd loose our purpose," Methos tried, appealing to his friend's sense of goodness and commonsense.
"Don't put us in the same category as you, you freak!" shouted a voice from the back of the group.
'Oh, wonderful!' thought Methos, 'there's always one!'.
"I don't know, Methos. What's the use of all that study and experience if you don't find what you were looking for in the end," replied Joe.
"Maybe some people do, in their own way, their own answers that give them a purpose. But not the answer."
"Well that's your opinion. I suppose you're allowed to have one. However, you will help us find an answer. We would rather your quickening stays in you to do it, but if necessary, it can be done without," the first man replied.
"I see. And, why is MacLeod here?"
"MacLeod's a hero. Now he can be our hero".
Methos didn't think they meant it in the dansel-in-distress way. He felt Mac tense slightly.
"You will be the brains and MacLeod will be the brawn."
"And together we'll rule the world?" drawled Methos.
"Well, we'll start with Seacouver, but eventually..."
"You're all mad, I hope you realise that. Joe, Joe you have to stop this. This is crazy!"
"Maybe, but it might just work. All I know is that now I have a purpose, I'm no longer just sitting in the background feeling old and useless. I can help people."
"You do help people Joe".
"How, by pouring drinks, by playing a couple of blues tunes? Anyone can do that. By giving Mac information so he can kill someone else just cos he thinks it's right? Well, I think this is right. This is the best I've felt in years. You've lived 5000 years Methos, but you've never had to feel old and useless."
"For Gods sakes, I'm the original old and useless guy! I may have survived 5000 years but I'm not a superhero. I'm just a pretty boring old guy, who's had to watch cities rise and fall, and bury more people than I'd like to remember. I've stayed the same while the whole world changes around me. That's enough to make anyone feel old. Don't tell me you'd want that."
"Yes, but a small price to pay for the excitement of watching history unfold before you eyes, of never being ill, of always being young and strong..."
Methos could kind of see the attraction this held for Joe, but this other guy? Why did mortals always think Immortality was the greatest gift ever? On a deeper level though, he knew that the bartender would never really, willingly think this way. He knew the downfalls of Immortality, he was also more sensible than this. Again, Methos wondered what price Joe had had to pay for those amazing new legs and why he'd suddenly become so susceptible to promises of 'ruling the world'?! Was there some kind of mind control going on here? Was this linked to what had happened last week? Methos was willing to bet a year of Adam Pierson's Watcher pay that this was. He had to get out of here with his, Mac's and Amanda heads all in place. Speaking of which...
"And I have to kill Amanda? Well, it can't be done here, and I should challenge her in a fair fight."
"You would kill her?" asked Joe, and for a second he thought he saw his friend falter at the thought.
"Why Joe, don't you want me to?"
"I...I..."
"Amanda's is your friend, Joe. Don't do this" Methos tried.
"Amanda is a silly, irritating little thief. She deserves to die," Joe replied as if reading the sentence aloud. Methos couldn't believe that Joe would ever think that willingly.
Methos needed help. He was sure Joe and at least some of the others were being controlled and being used against him. He turned to Mac.
"What do you think Mac? Think I should kill Amanda?" he asked, sure that the highlander would at least come through for Amanda.
Duncan turned to him, a small twisted smile on his face, his eyes burning a strange red, boring straight into Methos' soul. 'This isn't Duncan', something told him. He shivered involuntarily at the look on the highlander's face.
"I think it's a great idea. Amanda always gets on my nerves anyway. Why not just kill her. She has a 1000 year-old quickening. Of course, if you can't, I will, and then I'll take your head. A 5000 year old quickening would enable me to be both their brawn and their brains." Duncan laughed at this, like it was the funniest thing ever, the laugher slowly turning almost manical.
'Oh shit!' thought Methos. 'Think fast, you're now completely on your own.'
Faced with the very real possibility that this could end with his death, with Amanda's death and the fact that Duncan may be lost already, Methos went straight for survival instinct mode.
Dislocating his shoulders, he pulled his arms over his head and around to the front of his chair. Reaching towards his sword which, for some strange reason, was still in his coat, he cut through his bonds and, quickly fixing his shoulders (years of practice!), he pulled his sword facing the group of Watchers.
Distracted by the suddenness of his escape, the Watchers led him reach almost to the door. Suddenly, though, Duncan was facing him, sword also drawn, having also managed to escape. Admittedly, decided Methos, this was more due to the fact that whoever or whatever was controlling the Watchers was also now controlling Duncan MacLeod than to Duncan's strength.
Methos gulped. He had often wondered, idily, who would win in a fight between himself and Duncan. Now he had the chance to find out, though, it was the last thing he wanted to know. Mac practised at least 10 hours every day and was naturally a very skilled swordsman. Methos, however, despite his claims of being out the Game for 200 years, hadn't survived 5000 years without having a few tricks up his sleve, both literatually and figuratively. Facing Duncan, though, he wondered if he would survive this. No, he told himself, he had to survive, and so did Duncan. He couldn't let whatever was controlling the Watchers (and Duncan, don't forget Duncan, he chided himself) go through with their plans. He had to survive, and so did Duncan. As he'd already realised, without Duncan there'd almost be nothing worth living for.
'Since when did your want of life depend on one person, on one man, a child compared to you?' he asked himself. The answer was obvious. Ever since he'd been allowed to join the Clan MacLeod.
Feeling Duncan's eyes staring at him, he once again shook himself free of his memories and prepared to fight his best fight - against his best friend!
Of course, in the end it was a threat to Joe that brought the Old Man to the Highlander's door again, for Duncan would always be there for Joe, wouldn't he...?
A week had passed and all was quiet. Too quiet according to Methos. Amanda checked in with him every day, and, apart from saying that neither Mac nor Joe wanted to see anyone, there was nothing to report. Methos had begun studying, which was difficult when he didn't really know what he was looking for. But he was determined, and that had worked for him many times in the past. He'd get to the bottom of this, had to get to the bottom of it, if it killed him. The phone ring interrupting his reading on early Druic legends of mind control. Yep, it was Amanda's check-in time.
"Yes, Amanda?" he answered the phone, not unpleasantly.
"Sorry, Amanda couldn't make it", a male voice answered.
"Who is this?"
"That's for me to know and you to find out. I have some information for you. Some...friends of mine recently paid a visit to a friend of yours. If you want to see Joe alive again and if you want to prevent your girlfriend suddenly loosing her head, I suggest you meet us at the 2nd warehouse by the docks. Tonight, midnight. And bring MacLeod."
"Who...?"
"And don't try anything, Methos, cos we're watching you."
The phone went dead and Methos slowly replaced the handset with a shaking hand. They had Joe. Oh Gods, they had Joe! And Amanda. And they knew he was Methos. And they were watchers. It was starting. Whatever it was, it was starting. And, last of all, now he had to go and get MacLeod. With an effort only built up through his 5000 years he managed to put back on a mask of control and went to face Mac, feeling as if any last semblance of control of himself and his emotions was leaving him with every step.
"Duncan! Duncan I know you're in there! Duncan, Duncan!! Open up. It's important Highlander. For Gods sake, open this door NOW! Before I break it down. DUNCAN!"
After ten minutes of banging on Duncan's door Methos stopped to draw breath. 'Damn that Stubborn Scot' he thought. Deciding finally that Duncan was never going to open the door, Methos started away from the dojo and towards the docks, when there came a small click and the door opened a fraction.
"What the Hell do you want?"
"It's Joe. He's been kidnapped. So has Amanda. They're watchers, and they asked for us, both of us, to meet them at the docks in five minutes time. I don't care what you say, Highlander, you are coming with me. For Joe, for all that man's ever done for you."
Not saying a word, not looking at the other man, Duncan silently went to fetch his coat and the two set off.
"I don't know you've done to me Highlander, but suddenly I feel duty bound to go and rescue Joe and Amanda", Methos said, trying to get any reaction out of the other man.
"So, you've finally got honour. Took you long enough. A bit of a late developer were you Methos?"
"Sorry, Mac, your honour may have rubbed off on me but my sarcasm just doesn't suit you at all", Methos replied with a small smile. Duncan just ignored him. Methos gave up. He'd deal with Mac later. Right now, he had more important things to worry about. Like renegade Watchers.
To Methos' surprise, when they reached the warehouse, there were ten men waiting for them, all Watchers who Methos knew fairly well. And Joe was at the front of the group. Amanda was in a chair in a corner, tied and gagged and with a knife in her chest. Methos turned towards Joe.
"Joe, are you alright? What's going on?"
Joe walked towards him. Duncan was still impassive, his eyes staring at nothing.
"Alright? Actually, I've never felt better." It was then that Methos saw the most extraordinary thing. Joe Dawson was walking, normally, and without a cane.
"Joe. What...Your legs?! How?"
"Aren't they great, just like new. They're a little gift."
'From who Joe, and what did they get in return?' Methos thought dismairly.
"Why don't you have a seat boys?" the bartender asked, and before he knew what was happening he and Duncan had both been grabbed from behind, arms twisted behind them. As he fought, Methos was immensely glad to see Duncan doing likewise, but there were too many and soon both men were tied to chairs, arms tied together behind their backs and feet to the chair legs.
"What do you want?" asked Methos.
"Simple", replied one of the men. "We want you with us..."
"Or dead", finished another.
Methos gazed at Joe but the man seemed perfectly at ease. 'Joe, oh, Joe, what have you done?' he thought.
Thinking quickly, wanting to gain time, Methos replied.
"Well, now, I haven't lived 5000 years by wanting to die. So, I guess the question is, what do I have to do if I join you?"
"Good choice. Well, for a start, you can kill her", the Watcher answered, gesturing towards Amanda.
"No!" shouted Duncan. Inwardly Methos was pleased that something had gotten through to his friend, even if he did pick the worst moments.
"We weren't asking you, MacLeod. Wait your turn."
"Why", asked Methos, not a little curious.
"We don't need her. Beside, it's what you do, isn't it. It's the Game. Why not kill her?"
"Uh-huh. And what about the Watcher oath of non-interferance? Isn't that part of the Game?"
"Sorry, don't believe in that, we're modern Watchers, sick of you Immortals taking the limelight all the time and wasting it. You'd be nothing without us Watchers!"
"Really?" remarked Methos, bidding his time, the wheels turning and the gears shifting inside his mind.
"So, then what, we kill who you want us to, you choose who gets the prize?"
"That's part of it. But, you Methos can give us so much more."
"More...?"
"Oh, come on Old Man, now's no time to be illusive," commented Joe, who looked to be enjoying himself.
"After 5000 years you must have some answer!" he continued.
"Answer, answer to what?"
"To the greatest question of all. To mortality, and Immortality. Why are we here? Why are there Immortals?"
So that was what it was all about, was it.
"Come on, Joe, you should know better than this. This is crazy. If I knew do you think I'd be here, do you think I'd have slipped quietly into the Watchers and led a peaceful life for the past decade? I know no more than you do. All my long lifeline has given me is 5000 years of everyday living, of work and families and friends, of experiences and places. And all that that experience has taught me is that maybe there are some things we just aren't meant to know. Part of why we evolve is to find answers, our own answers that suit us best. If we knew those answers we would stop searching, stop studying, stop evolving. We'd loose our purpose," Methos tried, appealing to his friend's sense of goodness and commonsense.
"Don't put us in the same category as you, you freak!" shouted a voice from the back of the group.
'Oh, wonderful!' thought Methos, 'there's always one!'.
"I don't know, Methos. What's the use of all that study and experience if you don't find what you were looking for in the end," replied Joe.
"Maybe some people do, in their own way, their own answers that give them a purpose. But not the answer."
"Well that's your opinion. I suppose you're allowed to have one. However, you will help us find an answer. We would rather your quickening stays in you to do it, but if necessary, it can be done without," the first man replied.
"I see. And, why is MacLeod here?"
"MacLeod's a hero. Now he can be our hero".
Methos didn't think they meant it in the dansel-in-distress way. He felt Mac tense slightly.
"You will be the brains and MacLeod will be the brawn."
"And together we'll rule the world?" drawled Methos.
"Well, we'll start with Seacouver, but eventually..."
"You're all mad, I hope you realise that. Joe, Joe you have to stop this. This is crazy!"
"Maybe, but it might just work. All I know is that now I have a purpose, I'm no longer just sitting in the background feeling old and useless. I can help people."
"You do help people Joe".
"How, by pouring drinks, by playing a couple of blues tunes? Anyone can do that. By giving Mac information so he can kill someone else just cos he thinks it's right? Well, I think this is right. This is the best I've felt in years. You've lived 5000 years Methos, but you've never had to feel old and useless."
"For Gods sakes, I'm the original old and useless guy! I may have survived 5000 years but I'm not a superhero. I'm just a pretty boring old guy, who's had to watch cities rise and fall, and bury more people than I'd like to remember. I've stayed the same while the whole world changes around me. That's enough to make anyone feel old. Don't tell me you'd want that."
"Yes, but a small price to pay for the excitement of watching history unfold before you eyes, of never being ill, of always being young and strong..."
Methos could kind of see the attraction this held for Joe, but this other guy? Why did mortals always think Immortality was the greatest gift ever? On a deeper level though, he knew that the bartender would never really, willingly think this way. He knew the downfalls of Immortality, he was also more sensible than this. Again, Methos wondered what price Joe had had to pay for those amazing new legs and why he'd suddenly become so susceptible to promises of 'ruling the world'?! Was there some kind of mind control going on here? Was this linked to what had happened last week? Methos was willing to bet a year of Adam Pierson's Watcher pay that this was. He had to get out of here with his, Mac's and Amanda heads all in place. Speaking of which...
"And I have to kill Amanda? Well, it can't be done here, and I should challenge her in a fair fight."
"You would kill her?" asked Joe, and for a second he thought he saw his friend falter at the thought.
"Why Joe, don't you want me to?"
"I...I..."
"Amanda's is your friend, Joe. Don't do this" Methos tried.
"Amanda is a silly, irritating little thief. She deserves to die," Joe replied as if reading the sentence aloud. Methos couldn't believe that Joe would ever think that willingly.
Methos needed help. He was sure Joe and at least some of the others were being controlled and being used against him. He turned to Mac.
"What do you think Mac? Think I should kill Amanda?" he asked, sure that the highlander would at least come through for Amanda.
Duncan turned to him, a small twisted smile on his face, his eyes burning a strange red, boring straight into Methos' soul. 'This isn't Duncan', something told him. He shivered involuntarily at the look on the highlander's face.
"I think it's a great idea. Amanda always gets on my nerves anyway. Why not just kill her. She has a 1000 year-old quickening. Of course, if you can't, I will, and then I'll take your head. A 5000 year old quickening would enable me to be both their brawn and their brains." Duncan laughed at this, like it was the funniest thing ever, the laugher slowly turning almost manical.
'Oh shit!' thought Methos. 'Think fast, you're now completely on your own.'
Faced with the very real possibility that this could end with his death, with Amanda's death and the fact that Duncan may be lost already, Methos went straight for survival instinct mode.
Dislocating his shoulders, he pulled his arms over his head and around to the front of his chair. Reaching towards his sword which, for some strange reason, was still in his coat, he cut through his bonds and, quickly fixing his shoulders (years of practice!), he pulled his sword facing the group of Watchers.
Distracted by the suddenness of his escape, the Watchers led him reach almost to the door. Suddenly, though, Duncan was facing him, sword also drawn, having also managed to escape. Admittedly, decided Methos, this was more due to the fact that whoever or whatever was controlling the Watchers was also now controlling Duncan MacLeod than to Duncan's strength.
Methos gulped. He had often wondered, idily, who would win in a fight between himself and Duncan. Now he had the chance to find out, though, it was the last thing he wanted to know. Mac practised at least 10 hours every day and was naturally a very skilled swordsman. Methos, however, despite his claims of being out the Game for 200 years, hadn't survived 5000 years without having a few tricks up his sleve, both literatually and figuratively. Facing Duncan, though, he wondered if he would survive this. No, he told himself, he had to survive, and so did Duncan. He couldn't let whatever was controlling the Watchers (and Duncan, don't forget Duncan, he chided himself) go through with their plans. He had to survive, and so did Duncan. As he'd already realised, without Duncan there'd almost be nothing worth living for.
'Since when did your want of life depend on one person, on one man, a child compared to you?' he asked himself. The answer was obvious. Ever since he'd been allowed to join the Clan MacLeod.
Feeling Duncan's eyes staring at him, he once again shook himself free of his memories and prepared to fight his best fight - against his best friend!