Chapter Six: A Piece of the Puzzle?

Later, that afternoon:

"Remind me again why I'm doing this", Methos grumbled as Joe drove through the busy evening traffic.
"Because I have a feeling that this is the start of it all. There's something very strange about this meeting. Besides Sam and Al could find no records of this meeting taking place. That's suspicious in itself."
"So now I'm supposed to believe the word of a so-called time-traveller and his invisible friend. Now, I know living as long as I have may have made me a little cynical but..."
He was interrupted by a loud snort from his travelling companion. He ignored it.
"...but I've seen many, many things in my time, and time-travellers are not one of them!"
"Well, fine. Don't help, then. I'll just drop you here, shall I? Try and get into this convert meeting myself! But, just listen to me for one second! I know you don't like the idea of there being things out there that even you've never come across, but it could happen. You're 5000 years old, you're not God. These things happen to the best of us. Besides, living so long, I thought you were the world's best pragmatist. Next to Mac, you're like Mr 20th Century! Hell, you had me believing in Adam Pierson for ten years!"
Joe stopped for breath. Methos could tell he'd touched a nerve. Of course he'd go to the bloody meeting, however much he thought it would be a boring waste of time.
"If you don't want to do it cos of what these 'so-called time travellers' say, then do it for me. I believe in Sam. I believe he helped my mother, and I believe he can help now. Otherwise, I'm probably about to face the two worst events of my life since loosing my legs. And at least one will be considerably worse!"
Methos sighed.
"I'm sorry, Joe. You know I'll go to the meeting. Now, come on, or I'll be late".
With a shake of his head, and a small grin on his face, Joe gunned the engine.

PQL Headquarters:

Al wiped a hand over his face, trying to clear both his eyes and his mind, as he wandered along to the visitor room. It had been a very long day. Thanks to the time difference between him and Sam, while it had been 4.00am Al's time, it had been 7pm already in Sam's time. Whilst his friend had been sleeping, Al had been working, for - with the to-and-froing between time periods - getting on 20 hours. Where the Hell had they gone, he wondered. Even though they hadn't made much progress in their research, he knew he really needed some sleep. He was worried about Sam. But, then, when wasn't he?! At least he had some extra help this time. He would have one quick check on Duncan, then get some sleep.

When he entered the room, Duncan was pacing up and down, like some caged tiger, all contained strength and stealth. Trouble was, he had nowhere to go.
"What's happening?" he growled.
"Joe found out about a secret Watchers meeting and Methos is going to it..."
"Ok, good. And Richie?"
"Richie's fine. Sam's fine. Both frustrated at the lack of progress. I think Richie's still scared, though."
"He's stronger than he looks. He's been through a lot."
"I know".
"Yeah, I guess you would...I just wish there was something I could do."
Al could see Duncan was trying not to keep pacing, not to lash out with frustration. He knew the feeling.
"I'm so used to being there, being able to help..."
"Well, actually you are there..."
Duncan scowled.
"Ok, ok, sorry. I know it's frustrating, but it will work out. If there is anything you can think of. Anyone who might be behind this, anyone after you...?"
Duncan gave a wry laugh.
"Way too many people. But, no-one I can think of who might pull something like this".
"Ok, we'll keep working on this. Meanwhile, why don't you try and get some sleep. I know I am".
Duncan nodded curtly, and Al wearily left the room.

Watcher Headquarters, Seacouver:

Despite receiving a few odd looks, Adam Pierson had had no trouble getting into the hush-hush meeting. He'd taken the further liberty of carrying a miniature recorder with him, just in case. As he sat in a far back corner, seats around quietly filling up, he was starting to believe that Joe may have been onto something. The atmosphere was thick and tense, the medium-sized conference room becoming filled to bursting point, the attendees a mixture of age and positions as far as he could see. There were a few people he recognised, a large number of what looked to fairly new recruits, looking around in anxiety and curiousity, and many others who looked as bored as he had felt not ten minutes earlier. He also noticed people from the 'Immortals are different to us, so make sure you stay away from them', school of thought. He aways wondered exactly why these people became Watchers in the first place? Was it just to keep them from going the newpapers? What it was, it didn't bode well. Ever since James Horton and his merry band of Hunters, there had still been little, quiet pockets of almost-hunters, hidden from the upper echons of the Watchers, seemingly reformed and behaving themselves. But Methos always felt that they were just waiting watching, biding their time. He strongly hoped their time wasn't now. But, he just as strongly believed it probably was. It was too much of a coincidence to think otherwise.

A sudden hush fell as a tall, non-descript looking man made his way out onto the stage.
"Welcome, friends", he greeted. Methos was reminded of cult-religion religion meetings he'd attended a couple of times in the seventies.
"I thank you for coming here today. I know this may seem sudden, covert, underhand, and it is true that certain Watchers in more higher-up positions were not invited here. But, I only have the best of intentions in bringing you here. So, why are you here? Why are we here? I'll tell you, friends. It is to usher in a new age for the Watchers!"
A collective gasp rose up from the floor. Methos scowled, resisting the urge to temporarily kill himself there and then and spare himself the next couple of hours of nonsense. Instead, he lowered himself in his seat and double-checked his tape recorder was switched on. Just in case he fell asleep.
"The reason why many haven't been invited is because they value the old ways too much. Out-dated ways. We have become weak, my friends! We sit idely by and let these Immortals do whatever they like. Let them assert their so-called superiority over us mortals. They abuse their power. But we have more power! We can control them. We tried once before, but too many of the old ways were enforced and we failed. It resorted in the death of my cousin, James Horton. He was killed in cold blood by one of the most dangerous Immortals of them all. Duncan MacLeod."
Another gasp came from the assembled crowd. Methos groaned. Not another bloody Horton. His cousin?! Where did they all come from?! At least they knew now why Joe wasn't invited!
"When James was killed, I was banished from the Watchers. But, now our time has come, and I have returned to lead us against the Immortals. This time we will succeed! Are you with me, my friends? It is our time now, and it will be great!"
A slow, slightly-confused and scared cheer began in response, soon growing as his listeners considered what they'd just been told and decided that yes, they wanted greatness, and they could fight the Immortals. They all knew the recent rumours of the increasing evil of the Immortals had been true. Now, there seemed to be something they could do about it!
Ben Horton smiled at his new recruits. Those he'd picked, already suspicious of Immortals thanks to certain selective e-mails doing the rounds, were keen and enthusiastic. It wouldn't take long for them to be ready to follow him to their destiny. The numbers were good. More than he hoped, and they would soon grow even further. Soon, Duncan MacLeod and all those around him would pay!