CHAPTER 7
It was messy, and Methos would have preferred the safer environs of a surgery theatre, but he eventually got the bullet out without too much extra damage done. It was the repairing of the stomach wall that had made him sweat, but at least the kidneys and intestines were intact. Eventually he was ready to sew up the wound, it was a fairly neat stitching job, even if he said so himself. Quickly, he checked her pulse, it was strong and steady. The blood and saline I.V.s was neatly done by Duncan, his experience as a medic in previous wars showing through.
Lets move her onto something more comfortable, shall we?" Methos suggested as he proceeded to wash up.
"Is she okay?" Joe asked as he approached the table and took Amy's hand in his. "She's still not conscious."
"It's the anaesthetic," Methos assured him as he dried off. "She should come around in a few hours."
Duncan and Hira conversed quietly in the corner and Hira disappeared upstairs. "She went to dust off an old camper bed of hers," Duncan explained. "We're going to set it up in the sitting room beside Joe so that we don't have to move her upstairs. It is one of the few rooms that still has its windows intact.
"All the better for me," Joe agreed. "That way I can keep an eye on her."
For the first time, Methos took a good look around him. "This house took quite a beating," he observed.
"Poor Hira," Amanda said. "The place is wrecked."
Duncan didn't comment but the look on his face said it all. He didn't actually come out and tell him, but his whole expression practically screamed ' told you so'.
"Lets see if there is anything on the farm that we can use to patch these window's up," Methos said as he made for the door. "It'll probably be a few days before we can get a glazier out here. We're going to need a body detail too, there are few in the yard"
"Don't forget the plasterer and decorator," muttered Duncan.
"Yeah, those too," sighed Methos, as he looked around the room, wincing as he noticed the damaged photographs on the wall.
It was then that Hira reappeared in the room. "Could one of you help me set this contraption up in the other room," she asked as gestured behind her. "I'm not as young as I used to be, I'm afraid."
Methos winced yet again as Duncan glared at him, he'll never hear the end of this.
"What did she say," Amanda enquired curiously.
"She needs some help setting up the bed," Duncan said.
"That's my cue then," Amanda said, going to help Hira.
"Hira, where do you keep the tools and shovels," Duncan asked. "I'd like to board up the windows."
IF Hira thought it was strange that he needed a shovel to fix the window, she didn't mention it. "I have some window shutters in the shed on the left," she volunteered. "I haven't had a need for them in years, not since Josef put the double glazing in. The tools are in there too."
With a nod, Duncan made his way out into the yard, Methos following reluctantly behind. He knew he was going to get an earful from the Scot and he wasn't looking forward to it. They made it to the shed before Duncan finally spoke.
"We shouldn't have come here," he stated.
"We didn't have much choice," Methos countered. "There was nowhere else we could go at such short notice."
"All the same, I think we should leave as soon as Amy is well enough to move." Duncan replied, as he rooted around in the shed for the toolbox.
"They're going to come back Mac." Methos retorted. "It doesn't matter whether or not we're here. If we leave, we'd just make it easier for them to harm Hira – and they will hurt her, Mac, they're not going to believe that she knows nothing."
"We could take her with us," Duncan suggested.
"Take her where, Mac?" Methos asked. "No, I think we should stay put, at least we're in a defensible position."
"It's a farmhouse, Methos," Duncan said exasperatedly. "Not a fort!"
"Well someone obviously forgot to tell that to those guys last night," Methos shouted. "Because that looked very like a full scale attack on the walls! These guys are going to war, Mac. I think its time we do too, don't you?"
The shed fell quiet as Methos struggled to contain his temper, while Mac looked at him disbelievingly. Eventually Duncan gently spoke up.
"Feel better now?"
Methos laughed in response. "A bit," he admitted. "Sorry about that, I just didn't see this coming, you know? How the hell did they find us so quickly?"
"Could we have been tailed from the village?" Duncan asked as he puzzled on the question.
"We would have noticed," Methos replied. "Their headlights would have stood out for miles in the countryside and the roads are too dangerous to travel without them."
Duncan nodded in agreement. "What then? We couldn't have been bugged, could we?"
Methos stood upright as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Amy," he breathed.
"No way," Duncan protested. "There is no way in hell she would have brought this upon us."
"Not knowingly," Methos said. "But the watchers knew she was coming out here to find me. They could have bugged her in Paris, or even when she arrived in Sofia."
"The rental car," Duncan concluded as understanding dawned in him.
"That would be my guess," Methos agreed.
"You think you could do the windows by yourself?" Duncan asked as made for the yard. "I want to check this out for myself."
"I think I'll muddle through," Methos said wryly as he watched Duncan's disappearing back.
He had started on the upstairs windows when he heard a triumphant cry from below. Looking down from the ladder, he noticed Duncan hold something small aloft.
"Got it!" he called across the yard. "It looks like your basic tracking device, works on a radio signal I think."
"Give Amanda a look," Methos suggested from his perch. "It's more her area of expertise."
"Shouldn't we destroy it?" Duncan asked uncertainly.
"Why, they already know where we are, Methos pointed out as he descended the ladder. "But it might come in useful later."
A smile hovered on Duncan's lips. "Have something in mind, do we?"
"Lets just say that the next confrontation we have, will be on ground of our choosing," Methos replied with a grin. "Go on in, I'll finish up the windows. We can do the bodies later."
It took Methos another half an hour to board up the rest of the windows. Tucking away the tools and ladder away in the shed, he pulled the bodies in there for later and followed Duncan into the house. The kitchen was a buzz of activity as Hira was bustling around the room preparing a meal while Duncan and Amanda were arguing at the table.
"They have to be near, Duncan, this bug's range doesn't go very far," Amanda said. "It's an antique for God's sake, made in the U.S.S.R.!"
"We have to wait Amanda," Duncan pleaded. "We're not ready."
"And when exactly will we be ready, Duncan. When they come back and finish the job?" asked Amanda. "Half of us here are mortal. Believe it or not, we were lucky last night. Amy could have died, so could have Joe and Hira. Do we wait for the next hail of bullets? I say we strike now."
"What has got into you, woman?" Duncan asked disbelievingly. "This is not you."
"You forget Duncan, the reason Amy is lying unconscious right now is because they're after me," Amanda reminded him. "Even I have my limits, I say we finish this now."
"Children, children," Methos broke in, a smirk on his face. "Lets say we settle this peacefully."
Duncan rolled his eyes at this pronouncement and rose from the table. "There is nothing to settle," he insisted. "I'm saying that we shouldn't rush in there half cocked."
"That's not you said when you jumped off the shed last night!" Methos pointed out.
"That was different!" Duncan explained.
"No it wasn't," retorted Methos. "Amanda has a point, if we don't bring the fight to them, they'll just bring it to us again. They're not going to give up."
"Lets do it then," said a voice from the doorway. "I want those bastards dead." They all turned to see Joe walk into the room, the lines on his face etched deep from worry.
"Hey Joe," uttered Methos. "Has Amy come around yet?"
"Not yet," Joe replied as he sat the table. "So, what is the plan?"
"Well, from what I can make out, it's pretty much a go in there with guns blazing affair!" Duncan said in exasperation.
"Oh, I think we can come up with something with a bit more panache," Methos interjected as he leaned against the kitchen counter.
"Like what?" Duncan snorted. "A few petrol bombs perhaps?"
"Actually, that isn't a bad idea," Methos said thoughtfully.
"I was being sarcastic!" Duncan said.
"Well, you know what they say, sometimes the best ideas come about by accident," Methos commented placidly.
"Well, that is settled then," Amanda declared. "We're going after them."
"What about waiting until we know all the facts?" Duncan asked as he looked at Methos accusingly.
"I think our time just ran out, Duncan its time to act." With that, Methos disappeared upstairs to clean up.
"I'll check on Amy," Joe said as he tried to struggle to his feet, only to be prevented by Amanda's hand on his arm.
"Sit down Joe, you look worse than Amy. I'll check on our patient while you take a rest."
Duncan watched Amanda leave and then turned his attention to Joe. "Do you really think this is a good idea, Joe?"
"I think that none of this is a good idea, Mac," Joe sighed. "But they're the cards we've been dealt, so we have to deal with it, I suppose."
The sound of dishes being moved caught their attention, and they both turned to look at Hira.
"Here, let me help you with that," Duncan proposed as he rose from the table.
"Thank you, Mr MacLeod, the silverware is in the drawer over yonder," Hira replied as she pointed at a dresser.
"Please, call me Duncan," he said as he placed the plates on the table. "I think we should be on a first name basis after all that has occurred, don't you?"
Hira smiled in reply as she continued to prepare the meal. The table was set by the time Amanda and Methos rejoined the group and they all sat down to eat the stew that Hira had made.
"Its lovely, Hira," Amanda declared in Turkish.
"Thank you," Hira replied quietly.
"I see you two have discovered a common language," smirked Methos. "I didn't know you spoke Turkish, Amanda."
A little something I picked up in the early nineteen hundreds," she shrugged.
"What else did you pick up back then?" Methos asked devilishly.
Amanda wrinkled her nose in response and Joe tried to smother a laugh. Duncan's eyes softened in response, it was good to see Joe begin to relax. A muffled sound came from down the hall and Joe's head shot up.
"Amy…" he said
"I'll go check," Methos volunteered, as he deserted the table and went into the living room. An I.V. bag was on the floor when Methos entered, he quickly glanced at the camp bed and noticed Amy's eyes flutter.
"Hey, there," he said softly as he crouched beside the bed.
"Hey, yourself," she whispered back. "And I'm telling you now, if you say even once that you told me so, your head won't be safe."
"Glad we got that cleared up then," smirking, he felt for her pulse.
"Where's Joe?" she asked.
"Right here honey," said Joe as he entered the room and hurried to the bed.
"Hi," she replied as she tried to raise her head, only to fall back again with a groan.
"Easy now," Methos scolded her as he looked at her bandages. "We don't want to tear the stitches."
"Whatever you say 'Doc'," she said, as she closed her eyes in pain.
"I've got some painkillers," Methos told her. "I suggest you take them, you'll feel a little bit groggy, but it will take the edge off."
Amy nodded in reply and Methos gave her some codeine through the I.V. drip.
"Ooh, that was quick," she slurred.
"The joys of modern medicine," Methos said with a smile as he stood and left father and daughter by themselves.
"How is she," Duncan asked as Methos rejoined them in the Kitchen.
"Conscious," he said as he sat at the table. "Her pulse is steady and her stitches are holding. She should be okay."
Amanda left out a sigh of relief. "Well that's a bit of good news, at least. How about we discuss making sure this doesn't happen again?"
"We attack just after dark," Methos told them. "No mercy, these guys don't seem to know the meaning of the word anyway."
"In other words, you want to blow them up," Duncan said coolly.
"Pretty much, yes," Methos admitted. "The softly, softly approach doesn't seem to be working."
"We'd still have the immortals to worry about," observed Amanda.
"They we can handle the old fashioned way," Methos replied. "I just want to even the odds a little. I'm just a little sick and tired of tripping over watchers at every turn."
"Right then," Duncan relented. "We move tonight."
"But first," Methos added. "We have a few bodies to take care of."
The other two immortals groaned and Hira looked up from her meal curiously. Methos hurriedly explained what was going on.
"You can bury then in the back field," she told them. "It's never ploughed."
Methos smiled his thanks as they left the house. Quickly, they stripped the bodies of their guns and ammo and buried them, Methos noted that there was only three; he must have just winged one the night before.
"What about the guy you got on the road last night," he asked of Duncan.
"I rolled him into the ditch," Duncan explained. "Nobody will find him before we're gone.
Methos decided to take him at his word and made for the house. "Time to make some petrol bombs then," he declared."
Amanda and Duncan looked at each other and shrugged.
"What do you think? Is he going over the deep end?" Duncan whispered.
"No more than I am," Amanda muttered back. "At least he isn't taking it out on us!"
Duncan decided not to mention the shouting match in the shed earlier on. They caught up with Methos in the yard and all three stepped into the Kitchen as one.
"Hi," said Joe as he supped from a cup at the table. "Amy has dozed off so I thought she'd be okay for a while."
"Sleep is the best thing at the moment," Methos agreed as he took off his gloves and shrugged off his jacket." The codeine should keep the pain at bay for a few hours yet, so she should get a good nap."
Joe looked at him shrewdly from over his cup. "Not to mention the fact that it helped her to nod off in the first place, I've had some experience with those kind of painkillers myself, remember?" Joe tapped his prosthetics and looked at Methos knowingly.
"I thought it was for the best," Methos admitted. "The first couple of days are the worst, I thought she'd be better off if she was out of it."
"I can live with that," Joe replied as he turned his attention to his tea.
Methos turned his gaze to Hira. "I was wondering if you have any glass bottles stashed away, Hira. We have need of them."
Hira looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowing as she studied his face. "I have a few under the Kitchen sink," she told him. "I also have a canister of diesel and rags in the tool shed."
Methos just nodded in reply, he knew that it was useless to deny what he was up to. "Lets get started then," he told Duncan, as he rooted under the sink and found the bottles.
The two immortals brought the bottles with them as they went to the tool shed. Amanda cried off, telling them she was in desperate need of a bath.
"Besides," She added. "Two bomb makers are more than enough!"
Dusk was coming when Methos and Duncan returned from their 'activities' in the tool shed. Amanda sat in wait in the kitchen, her backpack slung over the back of her chair.
"So, what's the plan," she asked archly
"I was thinking about keeping it simple," Methos said. "Leave the bug here so they don't know we're on the move, have Joe stay here armed with the ammo that we liberated from the bodies - just in case. Set fire to the watcher's camps with the petrol bombs, finish off anyone stupid enough to stick around to see what is happening and challenge any immortal that gets in our way."
"Glad to see we've thought this through, then," observed Duncan sarcastically.
"Hey, whom do I look like?" Asked Methos. "James Bond?" It'll work, and that's all that's needed."
"I'll go and tell Joe, then," said Amanda, disappearing into the living room as Methos placed Joe's guns and ammo on the table. A few moments later, she was back. "Joe said he was okay with that, he doesn't want to move from Amy's side, anyway."
"I figured as much," Methos admitted. "Lets move then."
They decided to take Methos's jeep, making their way through the roads until they came to the spot that Methos and Joe had parked when they had rescued Duncan. Jumping out, Methos opened a zip up bag he had stashed under the driver's seat.
"Stick these in your pockets" Methos directed them, as he handed them both a couple of bottles before he zipped the bag up once more.
Silently, they crept through the forest, avoiding the sentries as the moved in on the first camp.
"You two take the larger camp, I'll take the smaller one" hissed Methos as he peeled off and headed for the archaeological site before Duncan could protest. Sliding through the undergrowth, he ignored the cries of confusion caused By Duncan and Amanda behind him. Slowly, he approached the dig, keeping a wary eye out for the buzz of another immortal. He had thought that if there were one squirreled away in the neighbourhood, the din Amanda and Duncan were kicking up would bring him running.
Pulling one of the bottles out of the zip up, he crouched low and peered into the camp. It was a mass of confusion, men were shouting conflicting orders as they panicked and ran for the other back. One of them obviously had a head on his shoulders, as he smelled a rat and called out to them to come back, but they were heedless, running head long for the other camp, guns at the ready. They were probably afraid of a repeat of the other night, he surmised and they weren't far wrong.
Lighting the rag that was stuffed into the bottle, Methos lopped it into the camp. The bottle smashed, splattering the lit petrol over two tents. A blazing form came screaming out of a tent and rolled on the grass. Someone was barked orders to the few remaining guards, trying to get them under control, but Methos threw another petrol bomb before they had time to organise. By this time, five tents were ablaze as well as a few trees; it was obvious that many were beginning to become overpowered by the heat and flames. Methos threw another petrol bomb for good measure and then started to pick off the few that were still on their feet with his gun. They broke, within moments the camp was empty of live bodies, though they were quite a few dead ones lying about.
Cautiously he entered the camp and headed for the underground temple that he had rescued Duncan from a few days before. Slipping down the ladder he covered his mouth with a handkerchief to filter out the smoke, he didn't think that now was a good time to pass out from smoke inhalation. He nearly tripped over a body at the foot of the ladder, reflexively; he checked for a pulse, there was none. Moving slowly forward he squinted through the smoke and made for the altar, nothing there.
On a hunch he rounded the altar and looked at the back wall, running his fingers gently over it, he searched for a seam, it didn't take him long to find it. Taking a step back, he perused the wall, there had to be a pressure point or lever somewhere. The wall was too smooth and flat to hide a lever, so he decided it had to be a pressure point. Inching his finger over the wall, he probed and pushed. Then, all of a sudden; the wall gave, swivelling backwards into a darkened chamber. Methos rooted his flashlight out of his pocket and turned it on. Immediately the beam was reflected onto all the walls of the room, it's light caught and thrown back out again by the fractured pieces of crystal that lay on a crude little altar in the centre of the chamber.
With a cry of triumph, Methos ran forward and started to put the pieces into various pockets. Glancing around to see if there was anything else worth taking, he note of in the room. With exception of the crystals, the cupboard was bare. Deciding that it was best not to loiter, he sprinted back to the ladder and made his way above ground. The moment that he put his head above ground, he felt it, the prickling sensation of another immortal approaching. Not for a minute did he think it was Amanda or Duncan, there was no way in hell that either of them would come within range without signalling, not in this situation. Slithering out of the hole, he gently pulled out his sword and waited, squatting down as he tried to catch a glimpse of the other immortal through the smoke as he tied the handkerchief more firmly around his face. The soft pad of footsteps came from his right and Methos twirled to meet his opponent.
It was Valmont, frozen mid-step as he realised he had lost his advantage. Not wanting to give him time to recover, Methos rushed him, engaging his sword before Valmont had an opportunity to attack to advantage. The swordplay was fast and brutal. Methos not giving an inch as he pushed Valmont back into the smoking embers of the tents. Valmont by now was coughing furiously as he was forced to breathe the smoke directly in. The handkerchief was doing its job, keeping the worst of the smoke from Methos's lungs as he pressed his attack. Distantly, the thought occurred to Methos that he shouldn't be doing this; he should be looking for a way to merely disable Valmont so to get some answers out of him. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to pull his gun and shoot him. He wanted this to continue to its fateful conclusion; this bastard's head was his.
Methos put all the weight of his body into his blows, forcing Valmont to work hard merely to hold ground, his breathing became more erratic as the smoke began to get to him, his parries more clumsy. Finally, Methos slipped through his defences and ran him through. Pausing a heartbeat, he pulled his sword free as Valmont dropped to his knees.
"Its not what you think…" Valmont rasped out.
"I don't care," Methos whispered, as with one, final, stroke, he decapitated him.
Many people talk about sensations that hover between pain and pleasure, and Methos would admit that he had come across a few of them in his time, but a quickening was definitely not one of them. A quickening was one thing, and one thing only, pure unadulterated pain. Gods, how he hated them! Praying that this wouldn't be a bad one, Methos held his ground as Valmont's quickening fizzled and flashed as it rose from his body. For a short second, it just seemed to just hover there, the disembodied essence of Valmont's life force, when all of a sudden, it coiled like a snake and slammed into him. Oh shit, it hurt. All that anger, all that rage beating against his mind as Valmont launched one, final assault. It seemed that it would last forever, but at last, it ended and Methos's body was once again his own.
The quickening had finished off what he had started with the petrol bombs; the campsite was a disaster zone of ash and smoke, the trees blazing hotly around the clearing. Praying inwardly for rain, Methos staggered to his feet and made a fast retreat into the forest, he definitely was not up to another confrontation just yet.
The next hour was a time he had no wish to repeat ever, ever repeat again. Trying to make it out of a forest full of homicidal watchers while recovering from a quickening was not his idea of a picnic. Eventually, though, he reached the road, peering at his surroundings, he figured he was about half a mile away from the jeep. Taking a deep breath, he took off at a canter, not stopping until he found it. Jumping into the driving seat, he hunkered down to wait for Duncan and Amanda.
The sky had begun to lighten with the first fingers of dawn, when Methos began to get worried. That slow sinking feeling, that was beginning to feel like a second skin, settled on him as he watched the sun rise. Amanda and Duncan weren't coming.
Cursing under his breath, he started the engine. It was official, he had come to the end of his patience, these bastards were going to pay – in every painful way possible. Putting his foot to the pedal, he sped down the road to the farm.