Chapter 11


It was the combination of a car door slamming, with the introduction of two extra quickenings impinging on his senses, which wakened Methos the next morning. The sound of Gina's pretty, French, accent caught his ear and he relaxed back into the bed. The de Valicourts had arrived. With a smirk, he remembered the first time he'd met the intrepid duo. Hopefully, they weren't having any marital difficulties at the moment; he really didn't relish the idea of having Gina after his head again. That was definitely one of Duncan's more hair brained ideas!

The events of the previous day came rushing back as he closed his eyes; the truth about Valmont and Jackson still preyed on his mind and the revelation that he was supposed to have known Jackson had thrown him yesterday. He had been trying so hard the last couple of days to ignore his memory loss; he had even begun to convince himself that it didn't matter. What other surprises were out there? Methos winced as the image of Jackson's head passed through his mind; he had been so young.

Deciding that going back to sleep wasn't an option anymore, Methos threw back his covers and leapt out of bed. He knew that he'd cut short his interrogation of Tribeau before he had all the information they needed, maybe now would the right time to rectify that…or maybe not. Suddenly, it occurred to him, that maybe he was coming at this problem from the wrong angle. He should be considering the solution, not the problem. Filled with a new sense of purpose; he quickly showered and threw on some clothes.

Everyone had already congregated in the living room when he joined them. The conversation was loud and animated, with Amanda and Gina doing most of the talking. Methos caught Robert's eye and the French aristocrat smiled bashfully as he raised his hand in greeting.

"Hello there, Adam," he said. "How are things?"

"Oh, just fine," Methos drawled. "So, how is wedded bliss?"

Giving Gina a sideways glance, Robert smirked. "Well, let's just say that I think my head's safe for a while yet."

"Just as long as that means my head is safe, too," Methos said, grinning as he stretched out in an armchair.

"You're never going to let me forget that, are you?" replied Robert wryly.

"Any reason that I should? That little episode is good for at least a couple of centuries of mileage," Methos told him gleefully.

"Now, now, Adam. Leave my poor husband alone," said Gina with a twinkle in her eye. "It's not as if you didn't agree to Duncan's little plan. You got what you deserved, as far as I'm concerned."

"And I thought you liked me," teased Methos. "Does this mean I'm not invited to the next wedding?"

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Me…Adam, stop being so infantile."

Methos inwardly winced at Amanda's little slip. Looking at Gina from the corner of his eye, he saw the thoughtful expression that flitted across her face. Methos had to admit to himself that he might have to tell them his true name before this escapade was over. At least Robert would have to stop referring to him as the 'kid'. Looking over at Amanda, he noted that she at least had the grace to look embarrassed. He had evil, evil, things planned for her future.

"So, Duncan tells us that you've got a prisoner in the cellar." Gina asked as she studied Adam's face.

"Yes, he goes by the name of Tribeau but I doubt that is his true name. He strikes me as one of the older ones," said Methos with a shrug.

"What makes you think that?" asked an amused Robert.

"Just call it a hunch," Methos said dryly.

"Or an educated guess," Gina said with a questioning tilt of the head.

Busted! Gina was always the brighter one of the two; hopefully she wouldn't push the subject too much.

"Well, he's not on the watcher database," said Joe.

"We can't be sure of that," disagreed Methos. "It could be a just a question of not knowing where to look, especially if the chronicles have no picture ID of him."

"That doesn't really help us, you know," commented Amy. "They're hundreds of entries in the database that don't have a picture or a decent description."

"But they're still might be a way of tracking his true name down," said Amanda thoughtfully. "We just have to approach it from the right angle."

"You have an idea," stated Duncan.

"Well, I was thinking that he had rather a beautiful Gainsborough in his study," said Amanda. "A magnificent portrait like that must have documentation. The British Museum of Art probably has it listed."

"It still mightn't be his true name," pointed out Methos. "Besides, that seems an awful lot of work when we've got him stashed in the cellar. It might be a lot easier just to 'convince' him to tell us."

"Tell me, 'Adam', would you give your true name up if you were in the same position?" asked Gina slyly.

"He's not me," answered Methos, ignoring the undertones in Gina's question. "Tribeau is an egomaniac, sooner or later he'll tell us everything, he won't be able to help himself."

"I still think I should check it out," said Amanda. "Just let me make a few phone calls. Even if it doesn't turn up his true name, it might give us some insight into his past."

"If it makes you happy, then, by all means, go ahead," Methos reluctantly said. "Just be circumspect about it, we don't want to bring attention to ourselves."

"That reminds me," Joe said. "I checked on that Turner guy, nobody seems to know his whereabouts. Apparently, he disappeared from his home last week and nobody has seen him since. No body has turned up either, so he mightn't have been caught, just in hiding."

"It mightn't be such a good idea to investigate his whereabouts further, then," Duncan said. "We don't want to lead anybody to his door by accident."

Joe nodded his head in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing, actually."

"Well, I should be on my way," Duncan said. "I have a bank to visit."

"And an SUV to pick up from a car dealership," added Methos, grinning as he handed Duncan the receipt. "The address is on the top."

"I'll come with you, then. You'll need a second person to drive it home," said Amanda, fleeing the room before Methos could object. "Just give me a moment to get my coat."

A few minutes later, Amanda and Duncan were on their way and Joe decided to help Amy into the kitchen, so that they could rustle up something to eat. Methos noted happily that she was able to get to her feet without too much trouble. Turning his gaze back to the couch, it suddenly dawned on Methos that he had been left alone in the room with the de Valicourts – and by the glint in Gina's eye, he could tell she wasn't going to let this opportunity go by."

"So, Adam, is there anything you wish to tell us," she asked. "Normally I wouldn't pry but considering the situation, I think it might be better to share. I don't want any unpleasant surprises along the way, do we?"

"What is it that you want to know, exactly?" Methos asked cautiously.

"Well, your real name would make a good start," Gina said, a touch of steel colouring her voice.

"Umm, yes, well…that has a rather long story attached to it," hedged Methos.

"You don't say," Robert retorted.

"Why don't you start at the beginning," urged Gina. "That wouldn't be so difficult, would it?"

Methos couldn't help himself, he started laughing. "I don't know how to put this, Gina, except to say that I hope you'll settle for the cliff notes version."

"How come?" asked Robert, his curiosity clearly peaked by the way this conversation was going.

Methos took a deep breath and bit the bullet. "Maybe I should start with my true name – How do you do, my name is Methos."

Methos watched as, lost for words, they slumped back into their seats. He couldn't be sure, but he thought that Robert might have gone into shock. Gina was only in a slightly better state, she had opened and closed her mouth at least four times in the last minute, but no sound was coming out. "So, I'm guessing that you're familiar with the name, then," he said dryly, breaking the silence.

At last, Robert regained her voice. "But that's impossible…you're just a kid! Duncan told me so himself."

"I think that if you rewind that little conversation in your head, you'll find that he said no such thing," replied an amused Methos. "I've a funny feeling that it went more along the lines of you assuming I was a kid and he not contradicting you!"

"Sacre bleu," gasped Gina. "Ce n'est pas possible…it can't be true! That would mean that you're over five thousand years old, you're supposed to be a myth." Gina paused, her eyes narrowing as she pinned him with a glare. "This isn't a hoax, is it? You're not trying to wriggle out of telling us your true name by giving us a tall tale."

Methos smirked. "I'm afraid not, Gina. Its true, Duncan will verify it when he gets back, if you wish."

"No. That's okay," she sighed. "I believe you. Its just that you're not what I was expecting, I always thought that Methos would be more…well, more."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you but what you see is what you get," Methos said good-humouredly, he was used to this reaction.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that," said a flustered Gina.

"Its alright, Gina, I know what you meant," Methos assured her. "Lets just drop the subject, shall we."

The de Valicourts nodded in response and Methos sighed a breath of relief. He knew it wouldn't last long, of course. Soon, they would come to terms with what he had told them and then the questions would start - they always did.

"Well, then, I'll just go and check on breakfast," he said, leaping out of his chair. "You're welcome to join us?"

"Yes…I think I'd like that," responded Gina. "By the way, who else here knows?"

"Everyone," Methos admitted. "I'm the worst kept secret in immortal history!"

"How about that guy…what's his name…Tribeau?" asked Robert.

"No, he just knows me as Pierson," he told them. "Only a select few among the watchers know my true name and none of those are on the list of renegade watchers."

"Well, that's something, I suppose," mused Gina, following him into the kitchen.

The smell of fresh coffee and croissants filled the kitchen and Methos's stomach growled in response.

"Watch out, here comes the human dustbin," Amy said with a smile as she watched him grab two croissants from the basket.

Methos stuck his tongue out in response.

"Are you sure you're five thousand years old?" asked Robert as he caught this display.

"And counting," Methos replied through a full mouth.

Amy rolled her eyes in response. "If you think that is bad, you should see him at a buffet - he has the worst table manners I've ever come across."

"My table manners are more than adequate, thank you very much," sniffed Methos putting three sugars into his coffee before he dipped his croissant into it. Okay, he admits it; he was hamming it up a bit. But it was worth it just to see the look on Amy's face. He had noticed how she hadn't even flinched when Robert called him by his true name, which meant that she and Joe had left him to the de Valicourt's mercies in the full knowledge of what was going to happen.

"Adequate? Maybe in ancient Rome they were, but they've invented these little things called forks and knives since," retorted Amy.

"Hey! I'm not that bad!" protested Methos. "I do know how to cut my own food, I'll have you know!"

"Just about," teased Amy.

"So, known each other long?" Gina asked, sitting down to the table.

"Amy is my watcher," explained Methos. "Which means she has the dubious honour of figuring out what I get up to, on any given day…"

All three immortals suddenly went rigid as they sensed the approach of another immortal. "I suppose its Amanda and Duncan," Robert said unsurely as he glanced out into the hall. The sound of a key entering the lock reached their ears and they relaxed.

"Hi Guys, we're back," cooed Amanda as she entered the hall. "You were right, my crystal was in the security box." Amanda's face was glowing with happiness as she entered the kitchen, her hand fingering the chain around her neck from which her crystal now dangled.

It might be a good idea to tuck that inside your blouse, Amanda," Methos pointedly told her. "You never know who you might bump into."

"I know, I know," sighed Amanda. "Just let me admire it for a while first."

Methos shrugged as he helped himself to a second cup of coffee and stood up from the table. "I'm just going to pop into the study and check my e-mail, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"What about Tribeau?" asked Duncan.

Methos hesitated before answering. "Tribeau can wait," he eventually said, retreating out of the room before anybody could question him on the subject.

"He's up to something," declared Amy.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Duncan replied. "Give him a little time before you call him on it though, its always easier if you let him tell you what's on his mind rather than trying to pry it out of him."

There was a murmur of agreement at the table.

Meanwhile, Methos was hastily plugging online in the study. It had just occurred to him, as he was sitting at the kitchen table, that he may be able to get them all out of this mess alive. If the only reason that they were targets was because they had possession of the stone, all they had to do was convince the renegades that they don't have it anymore. Of course, they would have to do it in such a way that the renegades don't go looking elsewhere for it. Destroy it, perhaps? Preferably in a spectacular and public manner – make a big show out of it so that they couldn't possibly think that they could get it back. A small smile curved his lips as he typed into the search engine. Moments later, the results popped up on the screen – 'active volcanoes worldwide'. Oh yes, he was beginning to like this plan.


Scrolling down the screen, he found an ideal spot for his plan, the Karymsky volcano on the Kamchatka peninsula in Russia. It was active, had a lava flow at the top, and was relatively young – which meant it was short enough to be a manageable climb, even for the most unfit renegade watcher. It wouldn't be much of a show if the audience couldn't make it.

Quickly, he made reservations for a flight the next day to Petropavlovsk and went off-line. It was time to rejoin the others and let them in on his plan – well, most of it, anyway. The others were just finishing up their morning meal when he rejoined them in the kitchen.

"So, any interesting e-mails?" asked Amanda in a neutral voice.

"Not as such, no," admitted Methos. "But I may have come up with a feasible plan. Lets go into the living room and I'll explain."

Once they were all comfortable in the other room, Methos began to explain his plan. "I think we are all well aware, at this stage, that we have got ourselves into a situation that could turn very nasty. Although we have a list of the conspirators, we can't be sure that the list is complete; this makes it hard to eradicate them as a threat because we can't be sure what will come out of the woodwork. So, what we need to do instead, is eradicate their reason for coming after us – the Methuselah stone." Methos paused, waiting for what he said to sink in.

"You want to destroy the stone," Amanda said slowly.

Methos nodded in reply. "And I want to do it in the most public, dramatic and final way possible," he replied.

"What exactly do you have in mind," Duncan asked cautiously.

"I want to drop it into the lava flow of an active volcano, "he told them. "Its my belief that merely smashing it further wouldn't do the trick, as long as those waters in France exist, it could be put back together. We need to not only break it down into its most basic components, we have to contaminate it to such a degree that it is impossible to reconstitute it, even if they did manage to find a way to retrieve it all from the volcano."

"It all seems pretty final," observed Amy.

"It has to be," Methos explained. "For this to work, we have to convince them that there is no way on earth that they can get it back."

"I don't know how I feel about this," said an unsure Amanda. "Somehow, it feels like I'd be betraying Rebecca's memory if I agreed to this."

Methos leaned forward in his chair. "I understand your reservations, Amanda. Nevertheless, I believe that if Rebecca realised the true extent of the stone's power and what lengths these guys were prepared to go to in order to get their hands on it, she'd be the first to agree to this plan."

"He's right, Amanda," said Duncan. "There is no way on earth that Rebecca would want the stone to fall into the wrong hands, she'd rather destroy it first."

"I suppose you're right," admitted Amanda. "Okay then, how do we go about this?"

We stage the whole thing for effect," said Methos. "We let them find us, drop some breadcrumbs that they can follow, but we won't make it too easy for them. We don't want them to catch up with us until they're too late to stop us. We'll lead them unto the top of the volcano and then, when we're sure they've figured out exactly what we're up to, we drop it in."

"No more stone, no more key," Joe concluded.

Methos leaned back into his chair again. "That's the idea, yes."

"And where exactly do you wish to hold this little performance?" asked Gina.

"I was thinking Russia," supplied Methos. "There is a volcano there that is active as we speak."

"When do we leave?" asked Duncan.

"I've got flights booked for this evening," Methos told him. "We've got until then to drop enough clues for them to figure out where we're going."

"And how do you plan to do that," asked Amy.

"I not going to," said Methos with a grin. "You are."

"Huh, what are you talking about?" huffed Amy.

"You're going to file a report, Amy, a very long and detailed report. Full of all sorts of exciting titbits and information, including our destination," replied Methos.

For a few moments, Amy just stared at him. "You do know you're crazy, don't you?" she eventually said. "That has to be the most half baked idea I've come across in a long time."

"Have you got a better idea?" he asked.

"Well…no, but that's beside the point!" Amy protested. "Once I file a report at headquarters, we'll have every Tom, Dick and Harry on our tail. Not exactly a controllable situation."

"That's why you're going to fudge a few of the facts, slow them down a bit. Tell them we're going to Russia, but don't tell them why. By the same token, I'd also suggest that you'd be vague about our mode of transport."

"What ever way you cut this, Methos, it's going to be risky," pointed out Gina.

"Not half as risky as the alternative," disagreed Methos. "I've thought long and hard about this and this is the only feasible option we have – the only one that has reasonable chance of us getting out of this alive, anyway."

"Russia it is, then," Robert said as he rose from his chair.

"But what about Tribeau?" asked Amy from her perch on the couch.

Methos gave her an inscrutable look. "What about him?"

"Oh don't give me that, you know exactly what I mean," retorted an exasperated Amy.

"We'll let him live for the time being, I think," said Methos, watching Amy's reaction carefully. "He might make a good bargaining chip if our renegade watchers get a little frisky."

"Right, then, lets start packing," Amanda interrupted. "The sooner we get this over with, the better."

"I'll start writing up my 'report'" said Amy. "Complete with fudging."

Breathing a sigh of relief that Amy wasn't going to push the subject of Tribeau's fate, Methos rose from his seat. "We'll dig up our respective pieces of the stone on our way to the airport," he suggested to the room. "Its probably better not to have them about our person until the last moment."

With that, the group split up to get ready for their flight and Methos took the opportunity to retreat into his room. He really didn't have much packing to do as he'd never really unpacked in the first place, but it did give him some space to think. Truth be told, he was as wary as the rest of them about what they were about to do. Timing was everything, especially as he had an extra few twists to the plan in mind.

Zipping up his carryall, Methos made his way into the front hall once more, bumping into Duncan as he emerged from the cellar. "Just supplying him with some food and water," explained Duncan as he noticed Methos's raised eyebrow.

"You didn't, by any chance, give him a last cigarette while you were at it?" Methos asked sarcastically.

Duncan shrugged embarrassedly. "It just didn't seem right to leave him down there without supplies. I don't know about you, but starving to death was never one of my favourite ways to go," he explained.

"Fair enough," sighed Methos. "I'll see you at the airport, then."

"Are Amy and Joe going with you?" asked Duncan.

"I assume so," said Methos with a shrug.

"You assume right," cried out Amy from the kitchen. "Just hold your horses, we'll be there in a moment."

"I suppose that's the answer to your question," snorted Methos before shouting back to Amy. "I'll wait for you in the car." Giving Duncan a wry nod, he made his way out to the SUV.

It didn't take long for Amy and Joe to make their way to the car. Methos noted, with amusement, that somewhere along the way Amy had acquired a cane. With some effort, she managed to climb into the car. "How are your stitches holding up, by the way," he asked of her as she made herself comfortable in the passenger seat.

"Fine, I think," Amy replied, pulling her safety belt across. "They haven't torn or anything, if that's what you're asking."

"More or less," admitted Methos as he started the engine and pulled out of the drive. After a short detour to collect Methos's part of the Methuselah stone from where he buried it, they drove on to the Airport. Soon, they were in the air and on their way to Petropavlovsk.

A thick drift of snow covered the city that stretched out before them, and they reluctantly left the warmth of the airport lobby behind. "Great," muttered Joe. "If the weather is this bad here, what is it going to be like once we've gained the top of that darned volcano."

"Look on the bright side, Joe," Methos joked as he tried in vain to hail a cab. "Maybe the volcano will erupt and warm you up."

"Lame as your attempts are at humour, old man," said Joe, smirking. "There is one thing that you are even worse at."

"And what is that, pray tell?" asked Methos distractedly, waving his hand at yet another cab that whizzed by.

"Hitching a ride," said the smug watcher, putting his thumb out. Sure enough, a cab slowed to halt in front of him.

"Not a word, Joe," warned Methos as he helped Amy into the passenger seat.

"Yes, Joe," sniggered Duncan. "Not a word."

"Duncan, stop gloating and get in the cab, there's a dear," called Amanda, hopping into the one she had hailed.

"Oh yes, Duncan, run along dear," mimicked Methos.

"You're still not funny, you know," Duncan shouted over his shoulder as he got into his taxi.

Rolling his eyes, Methos got in beside Joe and gave the driver their hotel's name. "Something tells me that it's going to be a long few days," he muttered to himself.