CHAPTER SIX
A soft knock on the door awoke Methos from his doze; the lack of a buzz told him that it was most probably either Joe or Amy. With a sinking heart, he rose from the bed. Somehow, he didn't think it was the grizzled-looking blues man. Cautiously, he opened the door and peeped out.
"Hey," Amy said softly as she stood in the hallway. "Can we talk?"
Methos padded back to his bed, leaving the door ajar in silent invitation. Sprawling across the mattress, he eyed Amy warily as she entered the room. Having Amy as his watcher was like having a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he knew he could trust her to turn a blind eye whenever the occasion asked for it. On the other hand, however, he didn't have the luxury of being able to give her the slip without there being repercussions. When you know your watcher's name, you worry about hurting their feelings.
"You're going to have to stop losing me, you know," Amy sighed, as she sat down. "If you don't, they'll just transfer me and you'll end up with another watcher.
"No, they won't," answered Methos with a small smile. "They've already tried other watchers. So far, you're the only one who's managed to last more than a week."
"All the same, it wasn't nice," she stated. "You have no idea how cranky my superiors get when I lose you."
"Objection noted," replied Methos. "But you've probably figured out by now that my having a watcher in tow at the moment is not a good idea. I don't want my whereabouts reported back to watcher headquarters; too many people have access to the records."
"They already know, Methos," Amy sighed. "They knew from the moment I booked a flight to Sofia. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what was going on. All I knew was that you had run off to parts unknown with my father. Hell, I wasn't even aware that Duncan had been kidnapped, never mind the rest of it!"
"Have you told them who I'm travelling with?" Methos said as he sat bolt upright on the bed.
"No, I haven't made a report since I've got here," Amy admitted.
"That's something, then," Methos mumbled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "You realise that you may have to lie outright in your next report? We are in a very delicate situation. We can't afford to let it get back to the renegade watchers that Amanda is here. Even as things stand, we may find we will have some surprise guests over the next few days. If Tribeau is worth his grain of salt, he'll no doubt know that I'm an acknowledged friend of both Duncan and Amanda."
"Time to move hotels, then?" Amy suggested as she watched Methos mull the situation over.
"That's not a bad idea. In fact, I'd go one further and suggest we move towns," Methos replied.
"We'll do that tomorrow, then," Amy declared as she stood up. "I'll let you get some sleep."
"Is that it?" Methos said with a slight smirk.
"Is what it?" Amy asked confusedly.
"Oh, I don't know. I think I was expecting a more robust conversation. Possibly even a few violent threats?" Methos enquired with amusement.
"I think we've done enough shouting at each other for one day, don't you?" Amy replied with a crooked smile.
"That must have been some 'chat' you had with Amanda," he observed wryly.
"It was pretty informative," Amy admitted as she put her hand on the doorknob.
"Described in full Technicolor vision, I've no doubt," Methos muttered.
"And surround sound," Amy agreed. "Want to talk about it?"
"There's nothing much to say, Amy," he said tiredly. "Lets leave it, shall we?"
Amy fixed the man, who was both her assignment and friend, with a good long stare before finally nodding and opening the door. "I'll see you in the morning, Methos. Goodnight."
Methos didn't bother to reply. What was there to say? It was at times like these he really missed Darius. He had been one of the few immortals left who would have listened to his worries without having a panic attack. Even Amanda reacted to his sudden appearance of weakness like it was the end of the world; 5,000-year-old immortals weren't allowed to be vulnerable.
Frankly, he was worried enough without having to see his fears reflected back through their eyes. Darius would have served him some of his awful concoctions that he had the nerve to call 'tea', and cracked jokes about all the predicaments he could get into by losing his memory. Within half an hour, he would have succeeded in putting it all into perspective for him. With a groan, Methos rolled over in the bed and hit the lamp switch. Things were bad enough without dwelling on friends that were no longer with him; it was time to go to sleep.
He had begun to drift off when he felt the buzz of an approaching immortal. Cursing softly under his breath, he reached for the pommel of his sword and waited. It was probably Duncan or Amanda wanting to have a 'chat'. There seems to be a lot of those going around at the moment. Straining his ears, he heard soft footsteps coming up the hall and came fully awake. They were coming from the wrong direction. Methos slipped off the bed and positioned himself beside the door; the footsteps had stopped, probably because the immortal had sensed his presence. Quietly, he positioned his hand on the door as he mentally went through his options.
"Oh, the hell with this!"
The door slammed against the wall as he wrenched it open and leapt into the hallway, blade raised in attack. He saw a flash of dark eyes as the other immortal came rushing at him, his sword held in a two-hand fist as the two blades met in a shower of sparks.
"Right, this is going to be a game of hack and slash then"
Methos struggled to disengage in the close quarters of the hall as his opponent tried to back him into the wall. Kneeing him in the balls, Methos took a step sideways as he doubled up and backed up a few steps. Taking advantage of his attacker's disorientation, Methos rushed him, forcing him back with a feint as he produced his dagger and sunk it into his leg.
With a cry of pain, the strange immortal slashed at his arm, drawing blood as he pulled back. A rush of sensation heralded the emergence of Duncan and Amanda from their room and Methos saw the look of surprise flash in his opponent's eyes. Methos tried to take advantage of the situation and sprung to attack yet again. In a flurry of feints and parries, they danced down the hallway towards the reception room.
"Any chance of getting your name?" Methos asked through gritted teeth.
The strange immortal remained silent as they spilled into the wider space, redoubling his attack as the receptionist screamed and ducked behind the counter. It seemed that the decision to move hotels was taken out of their hands. Duncan flew over to the counter to check on the poor hotel employee as Amanda watched the fight worriedly. Suddenly, Amy and Joe rushed onto the scene; both with hand guns at the ready.
"Since when did Amy start packing?"
The thought took a back seat as the other immortal got past his defences and slashed his leg. Cursing inwardly, Methos retaliated and succeeded in wounding his opponent's sword arm. With a cry of pain, his attacker backed up and ran for the door. Methos gave chase, running out into the street after him. The sharp report of a gun rang out and Methos staggered in pain as blood blossomed on his shirt and poured from his chest. The last sound he heard before he passed out was the screeching of a car.
When he woke up, he found himself being carried by Duncan and Amanda down the hotel hallway. "You can put me down now," he muttered as he struggled in their grasp. The two immortals dropped him like a stone on the carpeted floor.
"Thank goodness for that," Amanda said as she rubbed her wrists. "How on earth are you so heavy? Are you carrying iron bars in your pockets?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Methos replied with a flash of humour as he dusted himself off. "Where's my sword?"
"Amy has it," Duncan explained as he gestured down the hall.
"Anyone get a look at our immortal's little helpers?" muttered Methos as he surveyed the damage to his clothing.
"Three of them, dark clothing, dark car, big guns," Duncan replied briefly. "I didn't get a very good look, I'm afraid."
"Could they be watchers?" Methos asked.
"They'd fit the bill," Duncan admitted.
"How's the desk clerk?" Methos said, as he looked over his shoulder towards reception.
"Relatively calm, all things considered. Joe is having a little chat with her as we speak," answered Duncan.
With a nod, Methos walked towards his room, turning around as he called back. "I think we may have to change abode. The local constabulary may have a few questions for us and personally I think that it may not be a good idea to be here when they arrive. It would be hard to explain why we would be the victims of a drive-by shooting in this neighbourhood, not exactly an everyday occurrence."
"I think you may be right" Duncan said with a grin as he glanced at Amanda.
"I'll start packing," Amanda agreed.
With that, all three immortals disappeared into their rooms to get ready to leave. Stripping off his blood-soaked clothing, Methos jumped into his shower to clean up. Dumping the wrecked clothes into a shopping bag, he dressed and packed, pausing only when he heard a knock at the door. "Come in," he called out as he zipped up the carryall.
"Woman with sword here," Amy called out as she entered the room, the Ivanhoe gingerly held out before her. "How on earth do you carry this in your coat without walking lop sided?"
"It's a secret, handed down from generation to generation. I'd tell you but there's a whole initiation thing…" joked Methos.
"Been there, done that, have the tattoo to prove it," Amy joked back as she surrendered the sword to his grasp.
"Are you all packed?" he enquired, returning his sword to its place in his anorak.
"My bags are in the car," Amy replied as she turned to leave. "We're all gathering out back in the alley."
Picking up his bag, Methos followed her out of the room and down through the kitchens to the back. Everyone else was already there when they arrived.
"That wasn't Valmont," Joe volunteered as they strolled up to the group.
"I know, they have his photograph in the watcher database," Methos replied as he dropped his bag into the boot.
"This conspiracy is beginning to get a little crowded," Duncan sighed.
"So, who is he?" Amanda asked pensively.
"I don't know, but I think we can safely assume that he is in league with Valmont. Two immortals running around in the Bulgarian countryside with a bunch of gun-toting watchers is a bit of coincidence." Methos said in exasperation.
Amy giggled and the rest of the group looked at her in puzzlement.
"You've got something to add, Amy?" Methos asked snarkily. "Please, do share."
"Sorry," she apologised. "It's just… that would have been a pretty good description of us as well! You know – immortals running around in the countryside accompanied by a couple of watchers carrying guns?"
There was a few seconds of silence before Amanda began to titter and the tension broke in the air.
"Okay, then," Duncan laughed. "Lets not make any assumptions."
"But we could make some educated guesses," Methos pointed out, as he huddled in his anorak. "One way or another, I think it would be safe to assume that he is involved in this whole ridiculous situation in some capacity."
The sound of sirens rang in the distance and they instantly became alert.
"They took their time," Amanda observed.
"We have to get out of here – fast," Joe urged. "I convinced the desk clerk to 'lose' our details from the registry book, but there must have been witnesses to the whole debacle outside."
"But where do we go?" Amy asked as she helped Joe into his car.
Methos grinned evilly as he fingered his wallet in his pocket. "I think I may have an idea. I happen to be acquainted with a certain farmhouse owner not too far away from here…"
"Do you really think that is a good idea, Methos?" Duncan protested. "From your description, I got the impression she was a bit on the elderly side. We could be bringing a lot of trouble to her door."
"Don't worry about her!" Methos snorted. "It's us you should be worried about, that woman has nerves of steel."
"Right then," Amanda declared. "Off to the funny farm we go."
"I don't think we're going to be carted off by the men in the white coats just yet," Duncan told her.
"But I think we're getting there," Methos muttered darkly.
It never failed to amaze Methos how blind the authorities could be sometimes. Four rental cars pull out in a convoy and drive away from the scene of a crime, and nobody thinks to stop them. You'd have thought someone would realise something was very wrong with that picture. Methos shrugged the thought away as they left the streetlights behind and sped away through the dark, country roads. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, that was his motto - unless it was wooden, of course.
It was still the middle of the night when Methos pulled into Hira's yard, the other cars following closely behind. Making a mental note to dispose of some of the vehicles the following morning, Methos strolled towards the house as everyone got out of their cars. Suddenly, the yard was awash with light and Methos stopped in his tracks.
"Don't move a muscle! Oh… it's you."
Squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the yard light, Methos made out Hira's tiny form in the doorway. "Hello again," he said, as he moved forward, only to be greeted by the barrel of her shotgun. "I hope this isn't an imposition, but I was wondering if you could put us up for a couple of nights."
Hira looked at him in disbelief. "Do this look like a guesthouse to you, Mr. Pierson?" she demanded. "Do I look as if I serve bed and breakfast?"
Moving the gun gingerly out of his face with his hand, Methos gave a pleading look.
"Don't you try your games with me," Hira scolded as she caught the expression on his face. "That only worked before I knew your true age – so, act it!" Nevertheless, she lowered her gun and looked behind Methos at the small, assembled group. "Come on in," she sighed as she disappeared back into the kitchen.
Methos looked back over his shoulder and smirked. "Looks like we've got an invite," he said as he followed her into the house.
"I still think this isn't a good idea," Duncan muttered as he put his arm around Amanda and led her in, the rest of the group following closely behind.
The kitchen was warm when they entered. The banked fire in the range still giving off heat, as they arranged themselves around the table. Hira eyed them with some trepidation as she filled the kettle and put it on the gas.
"I'm sorry about this, Hira, but we needed a place to lie low in. We've got ourselves into a situation which would bring too much attention from the wrong people," Methos explained as he shrugged of his anorak, the others following suit.
"You'd better tell me exactly what is going on here, Mr. Pierson," Hira said as she settled into the empty chair at the head of the table. "If I'm going to help you, I'd like to do it with my eyes open." Methos translated what she said and silence reigned in the room as they weighed their options. Finally, Amy spoke up.
"I think we should tell her. I mean, she already knows about immortals, right?" The rest of her companions shuffled in their seats as Hira looked at them enquiringly.
"Why don't I make a pot of tea?" Hira eventually said to Methos. "Then you can tell me all." Raising herself from her chair, she laid the table and filled the teapot with the now boiling water. A few minutes later, they were all quietly sipping their tea.
"Hira, this is Joe Dawson, the man to whom I asked you to mail my wallet. That is his daughter, Amy," Methos said as he rested his cup on the table and gestured towards the two watchers. "Believe it or not, they belong to a secret society called 'the watchers'."
Hira looked at him askance. "I thought you told me you weren't involved in any secret societies, Mr. Pierson," she scolded.
"I'm not!" Methos protested. "Well, not much…"
"What did she say?" Amy asked.
Duncan repeated Hira's words in English.
"Lets just say that Adam is no longer a card-carrying member," Joe suggested.
"Anyway!" said Methos as he gave Joe a glare. "As I was trying to say before, Joe and Amy belong to this society who call themselves 'the watchers'. Their reason for existence is to watch and record immortals and supposedly never interfere. The other two are Duncan MacLeod and Amanda Darieux. They, like me, are immortal."
"I see," Hira said slowly. "Any chance that you're going anywhere with this?"
Methos told Hira what had transpired over the last few days, filling her in on the background of the Methuselah stone and the renegade watchers. Every once in a while, one of the others would throw in their two cents and Methos or Duncan would have to translate. The story meandered to its conclusion an hour later.
"You don't do things by halves, do you, Mr. Pierson?" Hira sighed, leaning back into her chair.
"We're really sorry about this, Mrs. Pendarova," Duncan said. "But we truly didn't have anywhere else to go."
"I suppose so," Hira sighed. "My son is going to have a fit. I don't mind telling you that he was very suspicious of your tale. It just seemed a little far-fetched; he didn't pry though, so you don't have to worry." Standing slowly, she eyed her 'guests' and came to a decision, "You'll have to double up, I'm afraid. I've a lot more room since the children have left home, but as I said before, I'm not a hotel."
Duncan smiled their thanks as Methos explained to the others what Hira had said. A half hour later, they were all assigned rooms and had brought their luggage in.
"We're going to have to get rid of some of those cars," Duncan observed as he joined Methos at the kitchen table again.
"That has already occurred to me," Methos admitted. "Maybe we could pull some of them off the road and throw some branches over them. That way we can retrieve them easily enough if we have to."
"Sounds like a plan," Duncan agreed as the rest of the group rejoined them.
"What plan?" Joe asked as he caught the tail end of the conversation. Duncan filled him in.
"It's still the middle of the night," Amy pointed out.
"The best time to do it," Methos countered.
"Where has our hostess disappeared to?" Amanda asked.
"She has already retired for the night," Duncan explained.
"Smart woman," Joe muttered.
"Methos and I can manage," Duncan said. "We're only getting rid of two of them. I think we'll hold on to Methos's and Amy's as they're more able for these roads."
"Thank goodness for that," Amanda said as she rooted in her purse. "Here are my car keys, I'm going to bed." Laying her keys on the table, Amanda left for her room.
"And here are mine," Joe announced as he produced his keys. "I'm going to take a leaf out of Amanda's book and catch some shut-eye."
"Night, Joe," Methos called out after him as he disappeared out of the room.
"I think I'll retire as well," Amy announced.
Duncan and Methos grabbed the keys and went out to the cars. Duncan took Amanda's car while Methos ended up tackling Joe's.
"Bloody typical, how on earth do you drive this thing?"
Squinting at the levers, he tried to figure out which were the accelerator and the brake.
"'Methos and I can manage' he says. Yeah, right, fine for him to say, driving around in Amanda's Corvette!"
Finally, he figured it out and backed Joe's car out of the yard. Driving the car about a mile down the road, he found a little dirt lane and pulled in, Duncan following closely behind. Eventually they stopped in a lightly wooded area and got out.
"It'll do," Duncan pronounced as he surveyed their surroundings.
"It'll have to," Methos muttered as he chopped a few branches down with his sword. Duncan winced as he thought of the damage it must be doing to the blade.
"It'll take an age to reshape your edge," he pointed out as he watched Methos hack away in dismay.
"Not as long as it would take to break these branches with our bare hands," Methos pointed out as he draped his spoils over the windscreen of Joe's car.
"You have a point, I don't suppose you could cut a few branches for me as well?" he enquired.
Methos gave him a dirty look.
"Well, there is no need to ruin two blades, are they?"
With a groan, Methos set about cutting down the extra branches and leaned against Joe's car as Duncan covered Amanda's car.
"All done," Duncan eventually pronounced.
"About time!" Methos grumbled as he started down the lane. "Come on, I'd like to get some sleep tonight."
The two walked in silence down the lane and onto the road. It was obvious to Duncan that Methos didn't want to talk but he couldn't forget what Amanda had said earlier that morning.
"So, how are you?" he probed.
"Just peachy," Methos answered shortly. "Change the subject."
Duncan took the hint and remained silent as they continued down the road. They were about 300 yards away from the farmhouse when they came across a van.
"That wasn't here when we drove past earlier," Duncan observed.
"Looks like we have company," Methos agreed as he pulled out his gun.
As one, they ran for the house, their pace quickening as they heard the sound of gunfire. Methos held Duncan back as they approached the front gate.
"Let's not announce ourselves just yet," he advised in a whisper. "A little bit of stealth sometimes goes a long way.
Duncan hesitated for a moment, then nodded his assent. "The shed on the left side of the house is quite low, how about we clamber up on top and get ourselves a birds'-eye view?"
Grinning in response, Methos followed Duncan as they circled the farmhouse. Sidling up the back of the shed, they felt the presence of another immortal.
"Amanda?" Methos mouthed to Duncan. Duncan shrugged in response and peered down. The yard was ablaze with light and Joe's form could clearly be made out standing at the door, gun cocked at the ready. A disembodied voice wafted up from beneath them.
"I'd advise you to put that gun down, Mr Dawson, or I may have to hurt you."
"Oh, yeah? You and whose army?" Joe demanded.
The sound of guns being cocked broke the air as several grim-looking mercenary types suddenly ran into the yard.
"Me and my big mouth," Joe exclaimed, as he backed into the house only a split second before they opened fire.
"These guys have definitely been watching too many gangster films," Duncan muttered, watching in disbelief as the gunmen peppered the house with bullets. Chunks of plaster flew, the windows exploding in a haze of gunfire. "That's it, I'm going down," Duncan declared as he leapt off the building.
"Duncan, wait," Methos hissed. "Damn it all to hell, why doesn't anyone ever listen to me?" Taking a few moments to take in the situation, Methos watched as Duncan leapt into the fray. Thankfully, Duncan was light on his feet and the gunmen were reluctant to use their guns in such close quarters for fear of shooting one of their own.
The mercenaries were at a severe disadvantage in hand-to-hand combat and Duncan's expertise was formidable, but the enemy were many and Duncan was one. Methos decided to even the odds and open fired. Three were down before someone realised that the herd was beginning to thin.
"Fall back," one of them called out. "We're under…"
A well-placed bullet silenced him as the others deserted the yard; Methos noted that the presence he had felt earlier had faded also. Leaping from the roof, he ran for the house, banging at the locked door as Duncan gave chase to the gunmen.
"Open up, it's us!" he roared, He heard the bolt slide back and Hira's face showed through a crack.
"They're gone?" she queried, peering into the yard.
"For now," he answered briefly, glancing over his shoulder as he heard Duncan join them.
"I got one more before they made it to the van," Duncan explained as he struggled to regain his breath.
"Your young friend has been shot," Hira said as she widened the crack in the door and let them in.
"Young friend…" Methos started, his voice drifting off as he took in the scene before him. Joe was sitting in a chair, his face frozen in horror as he watched Amy moan with pain on the floor. Amanda had propped her head up on her lap, and was applying pressure to the wound in her stomach, but it was obvious from the blood that seeped through Amanda's fingers that Amy was in big trouble.
"It was a ricochet, the bullet is still inside her," Amanda said as she looked up.
"Shit," Methos muttered as he knelt to examine the wound. "We're going to have to get her up on the table so I can get a better look."
Amy's eyes fluttered, but she didn't speak. Her breath was coming in short rasping gasps and Methos began to worry. Silently, the three immortals lifted Amy onto the table, closing their ears to Amy's cries of pain. Duncan and Amanda looked quietly on as Methos tried in vain to both staunch the wound, and assess the damage.
"How bad is it?" Joe asked hoarsely, his face taut with fear as he looked on.
"Pretty bad," Methos admitted. "The bullet has perforated her stomach and she's losing a lot of blood."
"Is she gonna…" Joe's voice gave way before he could finish the sentence.
"She needs medical attention, but she should make it," Methos replied, trying to sound reassuring as he took a first aid box that Hira had handed him and proceeded to bind the wound.
"Can't you do it? You patched me up that time in Paris," Joe asked.
"I had my old medical instruments at hand in Paris, Joe, and she's going to need a hell of a lot more attention than I can give her from this first aid box."
Joe bent his head in acceptance as Methos tied off the binding. The room was fraught with tension, the only sound the running of the tap as Amanda washed the blood off her hands. Hira hovered at the other end of the table, her eyes following the conversation even though she didn't understand the language. Methos looked up and caught her attention.
"Where are the nearest medical facilities, Hira? A hospital or clinic would do." He asked.
"How about a doctor's surgery office?" she enquired.
Methos shook his head. "She's lost a lot of blood, Hira. She's going to need a transfusion."
"Khaskovo would be where the nearest hospital is, but they are going to ask questions if you arrive with someone with bullet wound," Hira told him.
"We don't need to bring her there, we just need to pick up a few supplies," Methos explained as he looked at Amanda in silent request.
"I'll get my coat," she said, as she slipped out of the room for a moment, returning quickly with her coat on and an armful of bedding. Raising Amy's head gently, she put a pillow underneath it and draped a blanket over her. "I'll take Duncan with me," she said as she pulled the coat closed over her bloodstained blouse. "Just in case I need a translator."
Methos grabbed a notepad from his luggage and hurriedly wrote out a list after asking Joe what blood type Amy was, passing it to Duncan as he threw his coat on. They left without further ado; they both had seen enough death in their lives to know that time was of the essence.
Hira sighed as she patted Joe gently on the shoulder; watching a loved one suffer while one looked helplessly on was a pain she could well understand. Her husband had passed on three years earlier and she still remembered vividly the agony she went through as he slipped further away day by day. Her eyes caught Methos's across the room. From the haunted expression on his face, she guessed that she wasn't the only one acquainted with death in the room.
The hours passed slowly as they waited for Amanda and Duncan to return. Amy had slipped totally into unconsciousness and Joe seemed to have sunk into an almost unnatural silence. Methos stayed by Amy's side, his fingers glued to her pulse as he watched the rise and fall of her chest while Hira cleared up the glass and draped the broken window with a few blankets to keep the worst of the chill out. Dawn came and went, and eventually they heard the distant sound of a car. Joe struggled to his feet and made for the door, sinking against the doorjamb in relief as he saw Amanda jump out of Methos's jeep.
"Do me a favour, Hira," Methos asked quietly. "Boil me some water, I'm going to need to scrub up."