CHAPTER 14
Dawn broke coldly across the landscape and Robert De Valicourt rubbed his hands together in a vain attempt to warm his fingers. Cursing under his breath about having pulled the coldest watch of the night, he decided it was time to for everybody to join him in his misery.
"Rise and shine!" he roared, clattering two of the cook pots together as circuited the camp. "We've got a volcano to climb and all that jazz."
Methos poked his head out of his tent, sporting a singularly unattractive example of bed-head. "Enough, already," he growled. "Why don't you make better use of those pots you're banging together and brew up some coffee – strong coffee," he added before retreating back into the tent.
"Yes, mein capitant," Robert grumbled, stalking over to the dying embers of the campfire. "It's not my fault that you're not a morning person…no need to bite my head off…"
"He's like that with everybody in the morning," said a laughing voice and Robert looked up to see Duncan emerge from his tent. "It kind of goes with the Methos package, here, let me stir up the fire while you unpack the coffee."
Nodding gratefully, Robert unearthed the coffee and began to spoon it into a pot he had filled with water as Duncan cajoled a small flame from the embers before adding some of their precious fuel. The coffee was brewing merrily by the time everyone had roused and joined them around the fire.
"Ooh, you're a lifesaver, Robert," Amanda sighed, sipping appreciatively from her mug.
"I second that," Methos told him with a small smile. "It almost makes up for the rude awakening."
"Glad to hear it," Robert responded easily. He had already come to the wry conclusion that Methos' should be taken with a pinch of salt – unless he spoke with the point of his sword, of course.
The smell of scrambled eggs filled the air as Duncan rustled up some breakfast and they all eagerly toasted bread on the end of their forks to go with it. Once everybody had eaten their fill, the more serious business of the climb became their conversation point. "We should begin our climb as soon as possible," Duncan surmised. "The watchers have had a full night to prepare; we need as much of a head start as we can possibly manage."
"I agree," said Methos with a sigh. "We should pull up camp as quick as possible."
Without protest, they quickly dissembled the camp and repacked their rucksacks. It was still early morning when they began their climb.
"At least it's not snowing," Gina gasped out as she stumbled through another drift of snow. A collective groan rose from the group. "What! What did I say?" she asked confusedly.
"You do realise that you've just jinxed us, don't you dear?" her husband explained dolefully.
"Oh please!" Gina protested. "You can't possibly believe that just because I mentioned snow that…" Gina's voice faded mid-sentence as a small snowflake drifted onto her nose. "Oh no," she uttered disbelievingly as the others turned to look at her accusingly. "There is no way in hell I'm going to take the fall for this blasted weather!" With that, she stomped on ahead.
"You better go after her and smooth things over, darling," Amanda muttered into Robert's ear as he stood there gaping after his wife's disappearing back.
"I think you may be right," he said before chasing after his spouse.
"Try to keep together, folks," Duncan called out after them. "We don't want to lose anybody in this snowfall."
"There is also another problem to consider," Methos said lowly as he stepped in beside Duncan. "With this low visibility, we're not going to be able to see the Watchers coming if they manage to catch up with us."
With a groan, Duncan realised he was right. "Well, they will be in the same boat," he said in a hopeful voice. "That should even the odds a little."
"That's the point," Methos complained. "I didn't want to even the odds; I wanted a clear and overwhelming advantage!"
Duncan tried in vain to smother a grin. "Ah well, you know what they say, best laid plans and all that." As if mocking them, the snowfall grew thicker. "Hold up everyone," Duncan called out as he unravelled the rope he had draped across his shoulders. "We need to tie ourselves together before this storm gets out of hand."
Once Duncan was satisfied that they were all securely attached to his security line, they resumed their climb. It was midday when Duncan indicated that they should stop again. Unscrewing one of the flasks of hot soup he had prepared, he passed it around. "The climb is going to get a lot more difficult from now on," he explained as they huddled around in a circle, straining to hear him above the howling storm.
"You mean it hasn't been difficult up 'til now?" asked Turner, his tone half-surprised, half-sarcastic.
"Not compared to what lays ahead of us, no," Duncan shouted above the storm. The climb gets a lot steeper from now on, it's not bad enough to need serious climbing tackle but we will have to watch our step – especially with this poor visibility."
"Let's get cracking, then," Robert said. "I want this over and done with."
There was a murmur of agreement as the shrugged on their rucksacks once more and resumed their climb. The hours went by slowly as they trudged upwards, their backs hunched over against the storm. Eventually though, Methos called them to a halt. "Maybe we should make camp here, we wouldn't want set up base too near the danger zone now, would we?" Raising his hand in acknowledgement, Duncan circled back.
Setting up camp amidst a blizzard was a back breaking business. Luckily, Duncan had thought to bring a peg-punch to drill holes with or they would have never managed to erect the tents.
A campfire was out of the question, so Duncan produced a small methane cooking ring and set it up within his tent. In unspoken agreement, everybody piled into his tent after him and Duncan uncomplainingly made room for them. He was well aware that even the warmth from a cooker ring was a welcome change from the bruising cold outside.
Small talk broke out over the hot stew that he prepared, everybody studiously avoiding the subject of what was to come until the end of the meal. Eventually, however, the settled down to discuss the matter at hand while the supped at their coffee.
"We can't be sure how far they are behind us," Methos told the assembled group, resting his cup beside him as he leaned forward. "Therefore, I think that it may be prudent to set up a perimeter as soon as possible."
"You want to use the charges, then," Amanda guessed.
"Methos nodded in reply. I know it may seem a little over the top but we're stumbling around in a blizzard up here and I've a funny feeling that the watchers are going to outnumber us significantly," he explained. "We're going to need every advantage we can muster and its not as if they're going to be innocents – it was they who came after our heads, after all, not the other way around.
Grimly, the others voiced their assent and Amanda pulled her rucksack in front of her. Unearthing a carefully insulated package from within it, she unwrapped its contents and placed them on her lap. "The timers are going to be of little use to us," she concluded after a moments thought. "And the sensor triggers are too volatile to be trusted in his blizzard. We're going to have to detonate them by remote – which means we're going to need a lookout."
"I'll take first shift," Duncan volunteered. Taking their cue, the others organised who would take which shift. After a little tinkering, Amanda pronounced she was satisfied with the explosives and produced a remote control from the side pocket of her pack. After a little tweaking, she handed it over to Duncan.
"They're four triggers," she explained as he studied the controls. "Attached to each trigger are three explosives, I'm going to allot each grouping to a compass direction – north, south, east, west," she continued, indicating with her finger which trigger went with which direction as she spoke. "Try not to press any of the triggers in the next ten minutes; however…most of them will still be in my pocket!" With that, she rose and hurried outside.
"Well, from now on it's a case of hurry up and wait, I suppose," observed Gina.
"It would seem so," Methos replied tiredly. "The rest of us should get some rest; we want to be on top of our game when our visitors arrive." Grabbing his mug, he slipped out of the tent.
Robert eyed the space that Methos had just vacated worriedly. "Is it just me or is Methos a bit grumpier than usual today…oh, I say Turner, are you okay?" Patting the back of the spluttering watcher, he gently took the cup out of his hands.
"M…M…Methos?" Turner eventually gasped out as he stared at Robert with round eyes.
"Why yes," replied a puzzled Robert. "Who else would I be…oh!" Too late, Robert noticed his gaffe.
"Yes Robert – oh!" Duncan repeated dryly.
"I suppose that's torn it," Robert muttered apologetically as he threw Turner a surreptitious glance.
"You think?" growled Duncan sarcastically.
"M…Methos?" stuttered Turner again, as if unsure of what he'd heard.
"I don't have to tell you that you're not to breathe a word about it, do I?" Duncan asked him pointedly
"I'm not?" he asked back before recollecting himself. "Oh…yes…of course…I suppose he wouldn't like that." Staring at his hands, Turner studiously avoided their eyes.
Duncan glanced at the watcher suspiciously. "Do you have a problem with that?"
"Who…me? No, of course not. No problem here." The words tumbled out of Turner's mouth in a rush as he stood up abruptly, hitting his head off the canvas of the low tent. "If you'll excuse me." Stumbling out of the tent, Turner left two bemused and uncomfortable immortals behind him.
"Methinks I see trouble ahead," commented Robert.
"And I think that it'll be your task to warn Methos about it," Duncan informed him. "He's not going to be happy."
For a moment, Robert looked like he was going to object, but one look at Duncan's face changed his mind. "I'd better do that now, then," he said, heading for the tent flap as he spoke.
"Yes, you'd better," Duncan echoed softly as he watched him go.
~~*~~
Robert bounced on his feet outside Methos's tent, trying to fend off the cold, while he rehearsed what he was going to say. "I say, old chap, you'll never guess what happened…no…that won't do…Hey Methos, I've got something to tell you…damn!" Cursing furiously under his breath, he squared his shoulders as he faced Methos's tent. "Time to get this over with, Robert," he told himself. "His disposition isn't about to get any sweeter, after all."
A head poked out of the tent. "Are you just going to stand there all day muttering to yourself?" began Methos. "Or are you going to come in here and tell me what's happened.
With a tremulous smile, Robert ducked into his tent. "Um…hi…" he said, crouching down beside Methos's bedroll. "I may have caused a bit of a problem."
"Well, spit it out," Methos irritably commanded as he burrowed into his sleeping bag.
"Turner knows your name," Robert told him abruptly. "Duncan and I don't think he took the revelation too well."
"I see," the elder immortal bit out. "And how, exactly, did he stumble along this revelation."
"Well…I may have let something slip," Robert admitted bashfully.
Silently, Methos looked outside, his eyes searching for Turner. "I don't see him," he observed, pulling his head back in. "Did he go back to his tent?"
"I don't know," Robert said. "I presume so – I mean, there isn't exactly anywhere else to go, is there?"
"Nowhere but down," Methos grunted under his breath, pulling on his boots and hunting for his gloves. "Lets go have a look, shall we?"
Grateful that he'd gotten off so lightly, he nodded eagerly. "Listen, I'm sorry about this," he offered cautiously.
"Forget it," replied Methos dismissively. "No good crying over spilled milk – besides, Gina would kill me if I took your head!" he added with a sly grin.
Squinting through the heavy snowfall, Methos tried to pick out where the errant watcher was. "Now, where could that idiot have wandered off to," he muttered frowningly as he pulled the collar of his anorak up against the cold.
"His tent, perhaps?" suggested Robert. His tent was empty, however.
"Bloody hell," muttered Methos. "I've got a bad feeling about this…"
A small shudder ran down Robert's back at those words and he eyed his companion warily. "A bad feeling, did you say?"
Methos didn't answer, too involved in his inner worries about the whereabouts of Turner. The approach of another immortal caught his attention, however.
"What in lord's name are you two doing, wandering around in the snow?" asked Amanda as she trudged up to them.
"Looking for your best buddy, Turner," replied Methos, sarcasm evident in his voice.
"What's happened?" she asked anxiously, stepping in beside them. In terse tones, Methos filled her in. "I see," she eventually answered. "Well, there's still no need to believe the worst, he may just need to clear his head."
Methos looked at her disbelievingly. "In the middle of a blizzard, Amanda? I don't think so."
"I'm just saying, that's all," she protested.
"Well, don't - don't say one word more, Amanda," Methos growled. "Just help us find him." Their search was cut short, however, by Turners reappearance from beyond the tents. "Where the hell have you been," yelled Methos.
"Um, taking a leak?" the watcher piped up him nervously.
"In this blizzard?" asked an incredulous Methos. "Are you mad? It's a bloody miracle that your private parts didn't freeze to your zipper!"
"I didn't know what else to do," Turner protested.
"You could have done what any guy with half a brain would do, in this weather –use a bottle," roared Methos.
"Oh… I see…well, I'll keep that in mind for the next time," the watcher offered in answer as he stepped in the direction of his tent. "I better be off to my tent, now. To get some rest, that is."
Methos watched Turners retreating back suspiciously. "It's official," he said, turning to Amanda and Robert. "My funny feeling has just turned into a full-blown premonition - we've definitely got trouble."
"I hate to say it, but I think you may be right," Amanda said grimly. "I distinctly remember Duncan explaining to him this morning about the dangers of this freezing climate. He was quite graphic about it, too; he'd have to be an idiot to forget."
"Well, maybe he is," Robert suggested. "An idiot, that is."
"The only idiots around here are us," said Methos sourly. "We're going to need to keep an eye on him. Damn it! As if we didn't have enough problems worrying about the enemy without, now it looks like we have to deal with the enemy within as well."
"I wish this blizzard would clear up," Amanda muttered. "I'd feel a lot better if I could shake the feeling that we're being watched. I keep getting funny images in my mind of homicidal watchers lurking in the shadows, waiting to pounce when we least expect it."
"Where's Mac?" Methos asked abruptly.
"Still in the tent, I presume," Robert said. "Waiting for Amanda to come back and give him the all clear about the explosives."
"Let's go then, I think its time we had a little war council," Methos told them, heading for the tent.
Throwing back the flap of the tent, Methos looked at the grim face of the Highlander. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Duncan asked rhetorically, making way for them as they crowded into the tent.
"We've got a mole," confirmed Methos as he helped himself to a cup of coffee from the pot.
"But how can you be so sure, chérie?" asked Gina. "After all, is this not the gentleman that told you about the conspiracy in the first place?"
"That Turner was the one who told me is not to be disputed," Methos said heavily. "Whether or not the man in that tent is actually Turner is another matter."
"You think he's a fake," surmised Amanda.
"I think that the real Turner is most probably at the bottom of some river, yes," Methos replied. "Probably after being tortured and interrogated by Tribeau and his cronies."
"That would explain how he knew so much about why Turner helped you," Duncan said dryly.
"Yes…it would," Methos replied softly.
"You don't think he was out there reporting to somebody, do you," asked a worried Robert. "Because that would mean that they were right on top of us – he couldn't have gone far in this weather."
"I think the answer is a bit more prosaic," Methos wryly answered him. "As I told him the other day, technology is a wonderful thing!"
"Of course, he has a phone," groaned Gina.
"He mightn't have got a dialling tone," said Robert hopefully. "We're in the middle of nowhere, after all. Sometimes those phones can't get reception in these areas."
"No such luck, I'm afraid," Methos glumly told him. "There's a tower on the top of the next mountain - for the old military base. It was one of the reasons I picked this place, I wanted to make sure I could keep in contact with Joe and Amy at all times."
"So what do we do now?" asked Gina. "Not only do they know exactly where we are and what we're up to, they now also know about our defence perimeter."
"And they also know where Joe and Amy are camped," realised Methos, pulling out his own phone hastily. The others looked on worriedly as he punched in Joe's phone number, only breathing a sigh of relief as they saw from the expression on his face that the old watcher had answered. "Hey Joe, it's me," Methos said with a smile. "No, we're not finished yet…listen; you may have to move camp…it's a long story but we think that the watchers may be onto your location…okay…talk to you later." Ringing off, he turned his attention to the others once more. "That just leaves us," he said.
"And the Turner impostor," Duncan reminded him. "What the hell are we going to do with him?"
"Let's throw him into the volcano," suggested Robert. "I don't know about you, but I could do it cheerfully."
Cocking his head as if considering it, Methos eventually shook it. "I've got a better idea," he said. "How about a little misdirection?"
"Like what the British did during World War two," Duncan said, nodding his head in understanding. "We feed the enemy false information."
"Even better," Robert said with a grin. "We can always throw him into the volcano afterwards…" This earned him an appreciative laugh from his companions.
"Oh my!" exclaimed Gina, sitting up bolt right as she stared at Methos worriedly. "He knows your name."
"Please, don't remind me," groaned Methos. "Let's just stick to our immediate problem, shall we?"
"Okay then, misdirection…" prompted Amanda. "How can we use this mole to our advantage?"
"Well, in a way, we already have," Methos joked. "Somehow I don't think that we're going to have any surprise visits, now that they know about our 'explosive' welcome mat! "
"I think that's a given," replied Duncan with a small smile. "The question is, what information can we pass on that will give us an advantage.
"Well I was thinking of dragging Turner in here for a little parley about our 'plans' and filling him with a load of baloney about waiting until dawn to make our move, maybe we'll be able to retain some of the element of surprise that way."
"So we're moving tonight, then?" asked Robert.
"Looks like it, yes," Methos told him with a sigh.
"Well then, I'll go and get him shall I?" said Amanda, rising to her feet.
"Be on your guard," Methos warned her.
"I always am," was her brief rejoinder as she left the tent.
The group shuffled uneasily within the tent when she left. Nobody wanted 'Turner' to suspect that they were onto them so they tried to act as if this was a normal group meeting. Duncan put on a fresh pot of coffee while they waited. It was almost with relief that they sensed the returning presence of Amanda.
"About bloody time," muttered Robert, plastering a smile on his face as the tent flap was thrown up.
"Hi guys, we're back," Amanda announced cheerfully as she made way for Turner to enter the tent.
"So, there's a new plan?" Turner asked, hunching down in the tent. "How come?"
"The blizzard is lasting longer than we'd hoped," Methos told him. "It looks like we're going to have to wait 'til morning in order to get some visibility."
"I see," Turner replied, a thoughtful look on his face. "But what if get they're waiting for us at the top and see us coming?"
Methos smiled stiffly, realising that Turner had inadvertently given them the watcher's location. "I think we may have to risk that, Turner, it's too late to back out now."
Helping himself to the coffee mug that Duncan held out to him, Turner nodded. "I suppose it's all or nothing," he agreed. "After all, we can't let these guys get away with what they're planning, can we?"
"Oh, I think we're all in agreement on that," Methos replied dryly, a spark of humour in his eyes. "These 'guys' definitely need to be stopped."
"Well then," Turner said, finishing off his coffee. "I'd better get some shuteye; I want to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for the morning."
Sounds like a good idea," agreed Methos. "I intend to do the same. We'll see you at first light."
Nodding seriously, 'Turner' got to his feet and ducked out of the tent. A few moments later, Duncan raised an eyebrow meaningfully as he looked over at Methos. "I'll go and see what he's up to, shall I?" he said, slipping through the flap after 'Turner'.
"Well, I'm glad that's over and done with," Robert commented as they waited for Duncan's return. "It was all I could do not to throttle him."
"I know how you feel," admitted Amanda. "My advice is to think of something else – something that involves a lot of sunny weather," she added with a small shiver.
"I wish Duncan would hurry up and come back," mumbled Gina. "I'm feeling a tad anxious about him."
"Don't worry, m'dear," her husband consoled her. "Duncan can look after himself."
Shortly afterwards, they felt Duncan's return and a flurry of snow entered the tent as he ducked inside. "He went for another stroll," he told them, plopping down on his bedroll. "He stopped about 40 yards beyond the perimeter and pulled out a phone. I couldn't make out what he said but I'm sure we can all guess. I came back as soon as he popped inside his tent again."
"Right!" Robert declared, purposefully rising to his feet. "Let's go get him!"
"After you," Methos said with a smirk, sketching a bow from where he sat.
"My pleasure, old chap." The group trailed after him as Robert pushed his way out of the tent and strode towards 'Turner's'.
"Have you got the rope?" Methos muttered into Duncan's ear when they came to a stop outside the other tent.
"I picked it up on my way out," Duncan replied, pulling the said rope out of his jacket while he watched Robert tear the tent's flap open and step inside. The tent wobbled as a struggle ensued within.
"Maybe I should go and help him," Gina piped up nervously, watching with trepidation as the tent tilted precariously.
"Oh…I think he can manage," drawled Methos, turning his head to one side as the tent righted itself before it veered in the other direction. Sure enough, a triumphant Robert emerged, holding a squealing 'Turner' by the ear.
"What is the meaning of this?" 'Turner' blustered. "I demand an explanation, damn it."
In answer, Methos stepped forward and rooted around in his coat pocket until he found the phone. "I wonder whom I'd find on the other end if I pressed the redial button, Turner," Methos asked, turning the phone around in his hand. "Your mother, perhaps?" The impostor glared at him sullenly, clamping shut his mouth as he realised which way the conversation was heading. "I see," Methos said, his eyes narrowing as he studied the watcher's face. "Tie him up, Duncan,"
Duncan needed no more encouragement and made short work of binding the impostor. "You'd better gag him as well," suggested Amanda, holding up a handkerchief. "We wouldn't want him calling out for help while we're gone, would we?"
Grinning, Duncan obliged and then stood back to admire his handiwork. "A very professional job, even if I say so myself," he pronounced.
"I couldn't have done better myself," Methos agreed. "But let's his boots off for good measure – just in case he manages to wriggle out of that multitude of knots." Shoving 'Turner' back into his tent, Methos ignored the muffled cry of protest as the watcher landed on his back inside. Leaning down, he quickly pulled off the watcher's boots and retreated outside. "There, - that should keep him safely under wraps until we get back," he declared, the boots dangling from his hand. "Let's move."
Scrambling for their respective tents, the group gathered their weaponry together. "It's now or never, I suppose," said Amanda with a sigh, peering upward through. "Up we go."
Trudging slowly through the snow, the immortal's stopped as they hit ice. "What's this?" asked a puzzled Amanda, her feet sliding over the glassy surface.
"Don't worry," Methos reassured her. "It's normal, we've just reached the ice ring – when the heat of the volcano melts the snow the water runs down and freezes into ice once the ground temperature lowers."
"And there ends our lesson in vulcanology," joked Duncan as his feet slid on the ice.
"Don't worry, the ring is not broad," Methos said. Sure enough, they crossed it quickly. Breathing a collective sigh of relief, the group continued their ascent on the now snow-free surface. Their relief was short lived, however, as they noticed the steam rising from the ground below their feet.
"Maybe we should slow down," Amanda suggested uneasily. "I wouldn't want to topple into the lava bowl by accident."
"There's no chance of that," Methos told her with a grin. "By the time you'd neared the rim, your eyebrows would've already warned you - they'd be singed!"
"Now you tell me!" Amanda grumbled. "Maybe you should have warned me before you convinced me to climb this godforsaken thing."
"Now, where would the fun be in that," he answered, hopping back before she could hit him.
"Jumped up, senile old goat…" Amanda muttered sourly to herself as she tried to peer through the falling snow. "How much further is it to the top?" she asked in a louder voice.
"About another hundred and fifty yards, give or take an inch," Methos answered back. "It might be better to…" his voice trailed off as he felt the creeping presence of another immortal, looking around, he saw his companions stiffen as the new quickening impinged on their senses. "Oh, for crying out loud…there goes the element of surprise," he muttered, pulling out his sword as he eyed the blurry landscape warily. The others followed suit and, wordlessly, they formed a loose circle, their swords pointed outward.
A muffled laugh came from their left and Methos squinted as he saw an outline through the falling snow. "Glad to see you that you and your little friends could join us Mr Pierson…or should I call you Methos?" a familiar voice called out.
Methos bristled as he recognised the voice. "I knew I should have killed you," he snarled as Tribeau stepped closer, gun in hand.
"Yes, you should have," agreed Tribeau, pointing the gun at his head as his henchmen materialised beside him. "But look on the bright side; it's a mistake you're never going to repeat."
TBC…