Chapter Eleven

With Dawson on their heels, Duncan and Methos flew down the outside stairs, just in time to see Burke finish shoving an unconscious - or, more likely, dead - Laura into the back seat of a light blue Cadillac. Burke took aim over the top of the car and fired off a few more shots in their direction, enough to empty the .38 he was carrying. The first shot was a wide miss, but the rest came close enough that the two Immortals had to duck and Dawson had to dodge back inside, no mean feat for him. Methos and Duncan both realized that even though temporary, mortal death for them would cost Laura and Jonathan their heads.

When he was done with the gun, Burke leapt into the driver's seat of the Cadillac and slammed the driver's side door shut. Shooting at the three men gave him enough time to not only get the brats into the car but to jump in himself, crank up the gas - he congratulated himself on leaving the driver's side door open and the engine running - and take off. He imagined MacLeod and his friends were left in his dust. That thought gave him pause. He didn't know who the second Immortal was, or the guy with the cane. Like they made any difference, he had to remind himself. He had what he came for. He'd take care of MacLeod another time.

Duncan's feet hit the pavement as Burke drove off, and Methos shortly followed. Joe managed to make it about halfway down the steps, and he stopped when the other two did. Methos spat out a curse as the Cadillac turned the corner. What would they do now?

After Burke's car was out of sight, Joe spotted Laura and Jonathan's luggage. It was scattered across the street and sidewalk, Jonathan's empty carrier laying on its side, but that's not what caught the Watcher's eye. He zeroed in on Laura's suitcase, with some of its contents spilling out from it. "Mac," he announced, "her sword's gone."

Duncan ran over to the suitcase and rifled through the various shirts, socks, and baby clothes. He had to see for himself that Dawson was right. Sure enough, there was no sign of the saber or its scabbard. "Do you think Burke grabbed it before getting her?" he asked.

"Probably," was Dawson's reply.

From Methos, "How does he know Laura?"

Duncan was a little surprised at Methos' vehemence. "I'll explain it later. Right now, we need to go find them."

"What's the use?" Methos asked pessimistically. "By the time we do, they'll be dead."

"Maybe not," returned Duncan. "If Burke took Laura's sword . . ."

Dawson finished his statement. "He might be insane enough to let her fight him for her and Jonathan's heads, and egotistical enough to think he can win." He whipped out his cell phone and started punching in numbers. "I'll try and get in touch with Burke's Watcher. He should have some idea where Burke might have taken Jonathan and Laura."

While Dawson was on the phone, Duncan turned to Methos. "Help me get this stuff inside, and we'll conduct our own search."

"What if we don't find them?" Methos queried, reaching for the baby carrier.

Duncan was determined in his response. "Then we'll keep looking. If Burke takes their heads, I'll take his."

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Burke spent considerable time choosing the place where it would happen. The night before, as soon as he dropped the music box off at MacLeod's, he scoured the entire city, looking for just the right spot. He found an abandoned elementary school, complete with playground, about halfway between the dojo and his hotel. Before he committed to that location, though, Burke needed to do a reconnaissance of the entire grounds. The school was in a gang-ridden neighborhood, after all, and who knew what junkie or gang banger would choose it as a hideout? Burke couldn't take the chance of any discovery.

He broke in by way of an obliging first-floor door. Once inside, he gave the room a quick once-over. The school gymnasium. Burke found himself satisfied. This was the perfect spot. The slut's daughter would learn her lesson here. He couldn't believe it. After all this time, justice would be his.

Burke allowed himself a moment or two to reflect on his great fortune in finally obtaining that justice. He had originally planned to stake MacLeod's place out, until MacLeod and the brats emerged. Then. he'd use the gun and take both MacLeod and the girl down. He didn't expect the girl to be foolish and leave MacLeod's protection, or for MacLeod to be stupid enough to let her go, but he didn't question it, either. Like any good soldier, he took advantage of his enemy's poor judgment.

He drove aimlessly around town for a long while, rather than directly to the school, to throw MacLeod and company off the track. He knew full well they would try and follow him. Besides, it was still late morning, and what he had planned was not best left for the harsh daylight, where anybody and everybody could see it.

An hour after sunset, he arrived at the school. It was challenging to keep the girl out of commission that long. He knew she had become a full Immortal when he read the newspaper article. He didn't know about the saber, though, until he saw it sticking out of one of her bags. He was curious where she got it, and had to rework his plans around its presence. Burke spotted the saber sticking out from the suitcase when he collected the girl and her brother. Maybe he would let her live long enough to see him take the boy's head. Maybe he would allow her to fight him before he took hers, as well. He grinned malevolently. The idea had merit.

The boy was light enough to be carried, certainly, but the girl posed a problem. She was heavier than she looked, and was just beginning to stir as he removed her from the back seat. He had to whack her on the head in order to keep her out of commission long enough for him to get her inside the building.

Burke retrieved her sword from the car after he unceremoniously dumped her body on the gymnasium floor. He would let her challenge him, he decided. But not yet. The boy must come first. The brat started crying the second he Burke came into the gymnasium, just as he did when Burke approached him and his sister outside MacLeod's place. The car ride, fortunately, sent the boy into a blissfully soundless slumber. Why start his wailing now?

And then the girl began to move again. Burke estimated it would be another minute at best before she revived. He didn't have much time . . .

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That baby. She had to get to that baby . . .

The car lay still. Laura couldn't move. The excruciating pain in her head wouldn't go away. And it was in her neck, too. Jonathan! Where was Jonathan? She had to see if he was all right.

She tried to make her arms move. They wouldn't. And her head and neck still hurt like hell. However, a curious numbness had started to spread from her arms to her chest, to her middle, and finally to her legs. Laura was certain her heart was slamming hard inside her chest, but she couldn't feel it. Fear overwhelmed her. The torment became too much to bear.

Through the thick veil of blinding and deafening agony, she started hearing other voices, voices she didn't recognize. And another sound, high-pitched and wailing constantly in her ears. It wasn't human, but Laura thought she should have recognized it.

She heard a man bark orders into some sort of device. She couldn't turn her head to see what it was. "We need an emergency rescue team on Route 99, about half a kilometer south of Pemberton, stat! We have a rollover here. Repeat: we have a rollover!"

She was flat on her back; she could tell that much at least. How did she get there? Somewhere, in the back of her pain-ridden mind, she could see the guard rail as it came closer, closer . . . was that how the car stopped? And where was all that smoke coming from? Where were Mom and Dad?

She opened her mouth. "Muh . . . M-mom . . ."

She barely got the words out before they were on her. "We have another live one here!" the man who barked the orders called out. "Let's get her out before the car blows!"

"M-m-my b-b-bro . . ."

"Shh, don't talk now," the man told her. "We've got him out already. He's okay. He's not even hurt." The man turned to someone next to him. At least, that's what Laura guessed he did. She couldn't see him anymore. It was too dark to see anything. "Get the jaws of life over here! Get the jaws of life over here!!"

Laura heard the grind of metal being cut away. God, it hurt her ears. How she wished she could puts her hands up and block it out! The sound eventually went away, though, and the man's voice came back. "Now, be careful," he commanded to whoever was with him. "Judging by the way she's lying, she's gonna have severe head and neck injuries. We don't want to risk permanent paralysis. On three: one . . . two . . . three!"

Laura felt her body being lifted. She couldn't bear it anymore. She let out a bloodcurdling scream. The sound of it drowned out even Jonathan's wails. Then she heard no more.

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After an hour or so of chasing Burke around town in the Thunderbird, Duncan was well aware that Burke would not deliberately lead him and Methos to whatever destination he had in mind. An hour after that, it also became painfully obvious that Burke was purposefully leading them on, letting them catch up with him only to lose him time and time again. Dawson, meanwhile, met Burke's Watcher at the hotel, where both men had discovered that Burke had checked out that morning. They decided to prowl the city themselves, Burke's Watcher canvassing for sightings of Burke's car, Dawson checking out possible places where Burke might have taken the Kesslers. He ruled out any well-populated venues right away. Such locations were not Burke's style. Besides, Burke had never been to the area before, and wouldn't know of that many suitable places where he could hide his prey. How would Burke handle that?

Dawson received several reports on the Cadillac, thanks to Burke's Watcher. At two o'clock, it was spotted near the baseball stadium. At four-thirty, by the docks. By six, Burke had actually doubled back to the neighborhood of the dojo. That was the last word Dawson had, which he passed along to Duncan and Methos by way of mobile phone. Those two had last seen Burke around five.

For no other reason than to say something, anything, Methos remarked, "Well, he's leading us on a merry chase." When Mac didn't respond, he again lapsed into gloomy silence.

An hour and a half later, they received a final call from Dawson. "Burke's car was seen parked outside an abandoned school a few miles from your place," he informed Duncan.

"How long has it been there?" asked Duncan.

"I don't know yet," replied Joe.

Duncan ended the call, and revved up the T-bird's engine. Hopefully, no cops would be around to witness the speed limits he was about to break.

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Just like Dawson said, the Cadillac sat next to the broken-in gymnasium door of an empty elementary school. Dawson met Methos and Duncan in the school's parking lot. He told them, "They're probably inside."

Methos squelched the urge to correct Joe's choice of pronouns, and said instead, "I don't feel anything."

"We may not be close enough to sense them," commented Duncan, in a hushed tone.

"I seriously doubt that Burke's an idiot," argued Methos. "He's not going to park his car and take Laura and Jonathan someplace where he can't carry them. He's got to be close by."

As if on cue, Dawson perked up, his ear cocked to the wind as if listening to something. "Mac," he broke in, "I hear swords."

With that, Methos was off and running. As Duncan stared after him, he too caught the barely audible sound of steel against steel. A fight between Immortals in progress.

By the time Dawson and Mac caught up to him, Methos had reached the perimeter of a neglected playground located on the other side of the deserted school building. There Laura and Burke were, facing off between a rusted set of monkey bars and a child's merry-go-round. Laura's back was to them. Methos looked ready to step forward and stop the fight, but Duncan's hand on his shoulder stayed any movement he might have made. It was too late to interfere.

Laura held her saber tightly in her right hand, and Burke kept a double-handed hold on a menacing-looking broadsword, a weapon that was built for a single-handed grip. Laura brought the saber up in a wide arc to meet Burke's blade, then swiftly deflected his blow away from her. Duncan couldn't help but take note of the way she handled her weapon. He mentally blessed whoever taught her the difference between a comparatively lightweight fencing foil and the heavier saber. Hopefully, those lessons would serve her now.

A pause in the fighting. "Well, well, my dear," Burke cooed in a voice full of venom, "you're doing quite well. You should consider yourself lucky I'm allowing you a chance to fight me."

Laura swung at Burke's head, but blindly, and without any apparent intention of taking it. In response, Burke neatly blocked her blow and forced her sword down, trapping it with his own. Laura moved her own blade so that it glided along Burke's, and sparks flew out from the contact point between the two weapons. "Where's Jonathan?" hissed Laura. "What have you done with him?"

Burke retreated until he stood behind the merry-go-round, keeping it between himself and Laura. "What do you think I've done with him?" he questioned smoothly, as if the whole situation entertained him immensely.

"You tell me," Laura demanded.

He made a run for the jungle gym, in the far right corner of the playground, Laura hot on his heels. Using his left hand, Burke pulled himself up the jungle gym's façade. "Let me tell you a story, instead. I knew your mother once upon a time. We were married, in fact. But she betrayed me. She told me that the two of you were mine. Our kind can't have children, you know."

During his little speech, Burke's sword jabbed repeatedly at Laura, one time coming in contact with her sword arm. She instinctively grabbed at the wound with her free hand. "I tried to exact justice once, but I failed." He jumped from the jungle gym, intent on pressing his advantage, but Laura managed to duck his blow. Burke fell back briefly. "Too bad I was not yet aware of what you and your brother would become. Otherwise, things would have been much different."

Once she came back up, Laura aimed a thrust at Burke's upper left arm. The sharp edge of her blade sliced cleanly across his shoulder, and Burke grunted in pain. His eyes glittered with anger at having been bested, at least for the moment, but he recovered quickly. "Very good, my dear," he crooned maliciously, "but do you think you can defeat me?"

"Do you want to find out?" she retorted, every word coming out in an low, deadly growl.

"Perhaps I do." Burke's overconfidence was so obvious, he might as well have been advertising it on television. "After all, you're One of Us now."

"One of who?" Laura, meanwhile, displayed nothing short of disgust and barely concealed fury for her opponent. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, yes. You don't remember that, do you?" Burke circled Laura, holding her at sword's point as he slowly inched to his right, toward a crooked swing set. His arrogant stance screamed the fact the he was clearly in his element. "At least, that's what I've heard."

An image flashed across Laura's mind: a brown Chevy, all twisted and mangled, her lying on her back trying vainly to move, the sound of a baby crying . . . she shook her head to chase the images away. Burke observed her closely, and he was able to guess what she was seeing.

"Then again," he added thoughtfully, "Maybe you do remember, after all, and just don't want to admit it."

Burke slowly closed his left hand back around the hilt of his sword. He definitely intended to go in for his final strike. "As for your brother, my dear, let me tell you about him." He waited for Laura to show a response to that statement; she didn't. "I killed him. Twice. The first time, when you were both seven months old."

Laura's eyes narrowed into barely distinguishable slits. "And the second?"

"I should have waited until you were alive again for that." Burke's gaze was overflowing with the intense satisfaction he was clearly feeling. "It would have done you good to see me take your brother's head."

Enraged, Laura broke loose, with a ferocity that stunned her entire audience. She lunged, thrusted, and swung, continually advancing on Burke as she drove him round one leg of the swing set and back toward the merry-go-round. He dodged, parried, blocked, but to no avail. No defensive move he made could have prepared him for the outcome of Laura's wrath. She had become a raging virago.

Before anyone had the chance to take a breath, Laura had Burke backed against the bars of the merry-go-round, utterly defenseless. A quick swipe of her blade, and he was on his knees, a vicious gash in his belly. A second swipe, and he was unarmed. Burke was at her mercy.

"Do it!!" he commanded. "Do what I did to your precious little Jonathan!"

"If you insist." Laura's voice was devoid of any emotion. It sounded cold, distant . . . and resolute. She didn't see her opponent in front of her; she saw herself, lying on a gurney, with at least half a dozen hospital staff members staring down at her, amazed that she had come back to life. She heard her father's words, telling her to use the sword if she had to, to protect herself as well as Jonathan. And this . . . this . . . this thing . . . she couldn't finish that thought. She closed her left hand slowly and purposefully around her right, which still clutched her saber as if her life depended on it. Which, in fact, it did. She lifted the saber high in the air . . .

For the breadth of a second, she paused. Then, one single swoop later, Burke's body slumped back against the merry-go-round, his head rolling to a sickening stop a few feet away. It was done.

Laura gaped wide-eyed at her victim's body, then turned her eyes up to face her audience. She must have known they were there. She had to at least have sensed Duncan and Methos as they ran up. But only when she focused her attention on them did Duncan realize that she wasn't aware of them at all until that moment. Duncan watched as her gaze, now filled with a strange sort of confusion, travel from Dawson to him, finally falling on Methos. It was then that the enormity of what she had done began to overcome her.

Unobserved at first, a ghostly, pale blue fog began to emerge from Burke's headless corpse. It enveloped Laura as a deafening hum rose up from out of nowhere. A strong gale blew up and surrounded her, jerking her body upright. Helpless, she threw her arms outward, her saber waving precariously in her right hand. Blue and white bolts of lightning streaked down and stuck every point of her. She screamed in glorious pain.

As Duncan looked on, Methos and Dawson with him, he tried hard to visualize what was going through Laura's mind. He couldn't fathom it, either, when he had his first Quickening. But that was different. He knew it was. The old hermit, when Duncan refused to do the honors for him, used Duncan's sword to cut off his own head. Laura, succumbing to the rage that welled inside her, had willfully taken a life.

A minute or so later, everything had died down, and Laura was left in a huddled mass on the ground. Her right hand, however, still retained a death grip on the hilt of her saber. She used a bar on the merry-go-round to pull herself up, sticking the point of her saber in the dirt before weakly hauling her body into something resembling a standing position.

Methos was the first to reach her, and the one to be stopped by the point of her sword aimed directly at his chin. "Don't," she warned him, her voice coming out in labored gasps. He took a step closer, and her blade pricked his chin. "Don't," she repeated, "come near me."

That said, she turned her back to them and walked away, her saber trailing behind her. Duncan watched as it eventually fell, forgotten, from her slackened fingers. Not one of the three men - Duncan, Methos, or Joe - made a move to go after her, but Methos showed every sign of wanting to. "Let her go," Duncan said softly. "She needs to come to terms with it in her own way."

"I know." Methos' voice sounded far away. "I know."