"Is all this really necessary?" Richie asked as Greg wound rope around his ankles. "I mean, I'm not going anywhere." Richie wasn't quite sure where Greg had taken him, but it all seemed pretty familiar.

"Oh, shut up."

"Forget your handkerchief?" Richie asked. "Where are we anyway?"

"Does the name Michael Plattman ring any bells?"

"No."

"Really? Because you spent quite a bit of time with him here." Greg began to secure Richie's wrists to an exposed pipe above his head.

"Chuck?" Richie asked. "You were behind that?"

"Smart kid."

"I knew it wasn't Miller. You son of a."

"Watch your language."

"Bite me! You set me up!"

"So what if I did? It didn't work."

"What makes you think this will?"

"What makes you think this is a set up?"

"If you kill me, Mac's gonna be all over you like a fly on a warm pile of shit."

Greg grabbed Richie's jaw. "If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times; I do not tolerate that kind of language!"

"Hits too close to home, huh?" Richie asked through puckered lips.

"Ingrate."

"Asshole."

"How can you use that attitude with me?" Greg asked, letting Richie's face go and standing up. "I raised you. I made you who you are."

"What are you trying to do, guilt trip me?" Richie asked, watching Greg pace from his seat on the floor. "You manipulated me. You used me."

"I never used you."

"What do you call this?"

"I call it the final phase. I tried to be patient with you. I was going to wait for a while before I got you involved. But you leave me no choice."

"Final phase? What are you a comic book villain?"

"All you had to do was choose me. I would have let you live longer. You've lived this long because I wanted you to."

"We've been over this part."

"But don't you want to know why?"

"You itching to reveal your master plan?"

"I was going."

"I don't care," Richie interrupted.

"You have a smart mouth, boy," Greg said pulling his sword.

"Just noticing? Not very observant."

"I raised you to be better than this."

"You raised me to be you."

"And you were on the right track. Exactly as I wanted you to be. Then I left. the look on your face," Greg laughed. "My poor little boy all lost and alone without his daddy. Oh, I knew you'd come running back the second you saw me again."

"You planned that!?"

"But I didn't plan you and MacLeod. oh, that was priceless. So perfect. All I had to do was sit back and let nature run its course on a desperate little boy."

"You're sick, you know that?"

Greg laughed again. "Why? Because I can play the game? Oh, I knew you, Richard Ryan; I knew you like the back of my hand. You were going to attach yourself to MacLeod just so long as he let you. Just like you did to me. Oh, you were a pathetic one." He shook his head sadly. "So eager to please. You'd do anything for a pat on the head. Just a little attention was all you wanted. So I gave you as much as you could handle and then you were putty in my hands."

"I can't believe I ever trusted you."

"Me either. You were so smart I was sure you'd catch onto me. But you never did. I was your hero. And then when you came crawling back four years ago. Oh, you were so pathetic. All you wanted was your daddy back. No matter what that MacLeod said, you trusted me with your life. So young, so naïve. I was surprised you lasted as long as you did before you realized something. I guess all you still wanted was a pat on the head."

"I hate you."

"Do you think I care? Don't you understand? You're going to die tonight. I will take your head before the dawn breaks."

"Untie me and we'll see who wins in a fair fight."

"We will, we will; be patient. First, I'm going to work my way through all your little rescuers. They should be here by now, don't you think?"

"Graduation isn't until next week."

"And? They'll be here. I know you. They'll be here."

"They're not coming today. I'm supposed to meet them tomorrow for lunch."

"Then you just bought yourself some time, little one. Have a nice night."

"You're not going to leave me here!" Richie exclaimed as Greg started to walk away.

"What, the first time I brought you home, I couldn't get rid of you for five years. You expect me to go through that again?"

"What if someone finds me? What are you gonna do then?"

"What are you going to do, scream for help? I kept you here for three days last year and no one had the slightest clue there was anyone here. One night won't be a challenge. Sleep tight." He slapped Richie lightly in the face and left.

"Hey! Hey! Hey, come back here you son of a bitch! Let's get this over with now!" Richie screamed after him, pulling on the ropes that refused to budge. "Damn it; let me go!"

. . . . . .

"He's not answering," Duncan said hanging up his cell phone the next afternoon.

"Wonder where he is?" Adam asked.

"He's not one to be late for free food," Joe added.

"Why don't you guys wait for Conner and I'll check on his apartment," Duncan suggested.

Twenty minutes later, he was opening Richie's unlocked front door. It wasn't like Richie to not lock everything up. He grew up in a city where if it was unlocked, it was up for grabs. He walked in and found Richie's coat and sword on a chair, his keys on the in table, and a glass of water on the kitchen counter. The lights were on. Duncan pulled out his cell phone.

"Joe, I need you to find out where Greg Masters is. I think he has Richie."

"What makes you think its Masters?" Adam asked half an hour later at Richie's apartment as Joe searched for Greg or Richie's whereabouts.

"All of Richie's things were here, the door was unlocked and the light was on. He didn't go on his own."

"Well, it doesn't look like he put up a fight either," Adam pointed out.

"I don't know; I just have a feeling."

"Well, it paid off," Joe said hanging up the phone. "That was Richie's watcher. He and Greg left just after two this morning. According to Greg's watcher they're at the high school again."

The phone rang. Out of habit, Duncan answered it. "MacLeod."

"I thought you might be there."

"We're on our way, Masters. This ends today."

"You bet it does. In an hour."

"Now."

"Fine, oh, someone wants to say something to you." Richie's voice came on the line. "Kill him, Mac."

"Richie?"

"See you soon," Greg answered. "Oh, and bring the Calvary. Everyone's welcome." Then he hung up.

"That was Masters. He's ready for us."

"Us?" Adam repeated.

"He wants to take us all on," Duncan said heading for the door.

"Really? He doesn't know who he's dealing with," Adam laughed following him.

"Did I miss the party?" Conner asked as he and Duncan met on the stairs.

"Just in time," Adam said from behind Duncan. "We're on a mission. Want to come along?"

"I have nothing better to do. What are we on a mission for?" Conner asked falling in line.

"Rescue mission for the young one."

"Ah, recon. Nice. Hey, Joe. Did you take up the sword, too?"

"I'm just along for the ride. You guys play with your swords; I'll stick to the pen. It's mightier, you know."

"Why are you joking like this?" Duncan asked as they all piled in Adam's SUV.

"Why are you so serious? Master's isn't going to hurt the tyke. And he can't beat all three of us. So your boy will be fine," Adam said.

"Unless, of course, he gets a bad case of rope burn," Conner commented. "But he is immortal so it's not a big problem."

"He'll be hungry."

"Cranky."

"Obnoxious."

"Have to keep an eye on him so he doesn't run off to get tattoos."

"What?"

"Long story, old man. I'll tell you later."

. . . . . .

Greg looked at Richie as he hung up his cell phone. "Dead before the sun set."

"Yeah, I guess you will be. Can't say I'll miss you. But, send me a post card from hell."

"Smart ass."

"I thought you didn't tolerate that kind of language?"

"I'll be glad to be rid of you."

"The world will be glad to be rid of you."

"You still think you're going to live through this?" Greg laughed. "You must be an optimist."

"I'm a realist," Richie shot back. "You'll see. You're the dead man."

"So sure, aren't you? What happened to the kid with no confidence?" He drew a line across Richie's neck with his sword. It caught on the chain around his neck. "Oh, I've been meaning to ask you about this." He hooked the chain on his sword and drew the small pendant from its hiding place under Richie's shirt. "Now I haven't seen you without this in years. What's so important about this thing?"

"Good luck charm."

Greg snapped the chain and studied the pendant. "Gaelic. 'Bless this child of the clan. God protect him.' How cute. MacLeod must have given this to you. Only he can be this disgustingly sentimental." Richie didn't say anything. "Let's see how confident you are without your little trinkets." He pocketed the necklace.

"Oh, big man. Now, I'm scared. I don't stand a chance without that. Just take my head; get it over with. I can't take the fear! Please," he scoffed. "Nothing has changed except now you stole my necklace. I'll take it back from you before I walk out of here. After I kill you."

"You kill me? Look at you! I'm in charge here. I call the shots."

"You're scared of me," Richie said, in false vibrato. "That's why you need all this. The power, the authority. You're scared of what Mac taught me. That's why you took the necklace. You're scared. You don't know what to do, but cheat. You're just trying to build yourself up into something you're not. You're scared because you know you can't beat me."

Greg leaned in close to Richie's face. "I already have. I'll be back for your head later." He left the room.

. . . . . .

Duncan was out of the car before Adam had it completely stopped.

"MacLeod!" Adam called after him as he charged toward the building. "Calm down, your boy is fine."

"Masters has gone too far," Duncan told him. "I don't know what he wants from Richie but he's getting it over my dead body."

"This is Richie's fight, not yours."

"He's right, Duncan," Conner agreed. "If anyone kills Masters today it should be Richie."

"What if he won't?"

"It's his decision."

"Fine." Duncan tuned on his heel and went into the building.

The three immortals honed in on the location of the other immortals while Joe followed. They made their way to the cafeteria where Greg was waiting.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming."

"Where is he?" Duncan demanded.

A muffled "Mac!" came from behind another door. Without pause Duncan went toward the door. The silent order 'Keep Masters here' was heard by all in the room.

"Richie?" he called opening the door.

"Mac!" Richie called from around the corner. He was tied to a pipe on the kitchen wall.

"You okay?" Duncan asked cutting the ropes.

"Just a little stiff," Richie answered rubbing his sore wrists. "No quickening," he commented as Duncan helped him to his feet.

"Not yet," he agreed.

"Why not?" They walked to the door. Richie suddenly stopped. "Mac, I can't go in there."

"Why?"

"I'll kill him."

Duncan pulled out his sword and handed it hilt first to Richie. "No one is going to stop you."

Richie took the katana and his face turned grim. "Who's up for a good old fashioned duel?" he called barging into the cafeteria. "You?" he asked pointing the blade at Greg. "You seem like you need to be taught a lesson. How about it?"

"You won't fight me," Greg laughed.

"I'll take your head now if you don't draw your sword."

"If this is the way you want it, fine with me."

"Shut up and fight," Richie snapped, lunging in for the first attack.

Duncan stepped to the side and joined Conner, Adam and Joe to watch.

"He's quite good," Conner commented. "Why are we all here?"

"Greg wanted our heads," Adam told him. "Oooh, going for the wrong head, Rich."

"He's just a child," Duncan mumbled not tearing his eyes from the fight.

"Why isn't Mike here?" Adam asked Joe. "Doesn't he want a good seat?"

"Mike's not his watcher anymore. His new one thought it would be better to stay out of the way."

"Good man. Change it up, Richie!"

"Is sidelines coaching allowed?" Conner wondered.

"Nothing in the rules against it. Nice parry!"

Richie forced Greg across the floor a few paces before cutting at his thighs. "I'm supposed to be scared of this?" he scoffed. "Brandon could take your head."

"I'm your father! You can't kill me!"

"Watch me."

"God, Rich," Duncan whispered. "Shut up and concentrate."

"Nice move," Conner called.

"I taught him that," Adam boasted. "What's the matter, Masters? Can't keep up?"

"Would you two shut up!" Richie groaned, blocking an attack meant for his knees. "I can't hear myself think!"

"That's because you don't!"

"Adam!"

"Sorry, carry on." Adam waved his hand in a 'go ahead, now' gesture, with a cocky smirk.

Back and across the two immortals went, swords clanging and discharging sparks when they connected hard enough. Richie's face was contorted in concentration as he predicted and countered every move. With a flick of his sword and a twist of his wrists Greg positioned the katana behind Richie's neck with his own blade holding it there.

"Gotcha now," he smiled.

"Do you?" Richie asked. With his left hand, he pushed Greg's sword aside. At the same time, he used his right arm to bring his sword around in a tight arc. Greg had just enough time to look surprised before his head was severed from his body.

The quickening was more powerful that Richie had anticipated. The power surged so strongly through his veins his body felt it was about to explode. He screamed out, his body jerking rigidly as the power hit him. The four spectators had to shield their eyes from the flashing lights. Then it was over. Richie's screams still echoing through the empty building. Richie fell to his knees, letting the katana clatter noisily at his side. No one spoke or moved.

Once he caught his breath Richie reached searched Greg's pockets until he found what he was looking for. "Told you I'd get it back," he panted, pocketing the necklace. "Rot in hell." He stood and left the room with Duncan, Conner, Adam, and Joe trailing behind.

AN: One chap to go! Next Chapter the end and epilogue.