Okay... I've been posting this story more slowly as I still have some writing to do on later parts of the story… as well as some editing and tweaking that needs to be done on upcoming chapters. However… due to the requests… I am posting an extra one today. Once I'm further along on this one… I hope to begin offering extra chapters at least every other day. I was able to do that before… as the stories were finished. This time… laughs and shakes head I am still writing this monster! Without further adieu… a bonus for today. elle

Chapter 14

Paris, April 2008

Amy Meyers settled uncomfortably into the chair and tried to look interested in learning why it was the entire library staff was being called together in an after-hours meeting. Amy would much rather have been on her way home. Things within the Watchers had been getting increasingly secretive and strained in the past two years. The new Council seemed to be slowly altering the directives of the previous Council… and returning to the stricter rules which had governed the millennia-old organization for much of its existence. And… the secretive nature of many operatives was back.

She had spent her time keeping her head down and meekly collating information as it became available on the history and whereabouts of certain immortals. Her main focus in the past few years had been on her personal life… her marriage to Burt… and the fiction that she was merely an historical researcher for a private foundation. He seemed satisfied… he'd even been to a few family functions… ones where their real work was never mentioned, but which allowed their families to have some sense of who their spouses worked with. It was all a glorious lie!

Amy hated keeping silent about this aspect of her life with Burt. But Joe had been right in his assessment of her husband's ability to handle the truth. The Council had agreed. Burt Meyers would likely want to be too involved in what he saw. Faced with their agreement with Joe's assessment, Amy had decided to marry Burt… and to remain within the Watchers. She still hoped that eventually Methos would re-surface, and that she'd be allowed to work on his Chronicle once more. But unlike Joe, who had made the Watchers his entire life, Amy had made the decision to have a life… rather than live in the hope that the immortal she was most interested in… would ever re-appear or that she would be granted access to his files once more. Instead… she worked quietly on what she was told… and kept her eyes and her ears open.

Amy had a near photographic memory… a fact not in her profile… and she used it to her advantage. Although her superiors kept shifting her from area to area within the library… working on seemingly unrelated historical documents… Amy had begun to sense a pattern in what she was seeing. She had not yet mentioned it to Joe… feeling it might be better to watch and wait… until she really knew something… instead of merely suspecting something.

So she was here for this meeting… although she was tired and much more eager to go home… put her feet up… spend the evening with Burt… before he headed out to his club. Their schedules did not allow too much time together… and she had found she was increasingly jealous of demands on that time, whether they came from her work… or from his.

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Madeline Miller whispered as she settled into the next chair.

"Not a clue," nodded Amy, as she shifted uncomfortably in the chair. It had a barrel-shaped armature and was not at all suited for a pregnant woman in her third tri-mester. But… there was nothing else for her to sit in.

"Well I heard something about some of us being re-assigned. If so… I'm hoping for a field job." Madeline was much younger and had been a Watcher for only four years. She was daughter and granddaughter of Watchers. Amy knew Madeline aspired to Chronicle someone as fascinating as the immortals her father and grandfather had once watched.

"It's not always easy Watching some of them," Amy shared with the young woman. "I know… I saw things sometimes that made my skin crawl."

Madeline's eyes opened wider. "Like what?" The young woman leaned in to hear the juicy details but before Amy could tell her anything, Georges Flammel called the meeting to order.

"Ladies and gentlemen… your attention please. I have the honor of presenting Henry Rawlins… our new Western Europe Regional Coordinator." Polite applause followed as the tall blonde, fair-skinned man stepped forward with a slight bow and a confident expression on his hawk-like face. His clear blue eyes carefully regarded the assembled librarians. He had work for them to do… important work… work that would assure the Watchers' continued existence. Slowly and carefully he began to outline his plans for them for the next few decades.

By the time Amy got home, Burt had left for the club. That was likely for the best. She was in no mood right now for cuddling with Burt and pretending everything was fine. No… what she wanted most was to talk to Joe. But Amy had a feeling they were all being watched. No… if she ran to Joe… they'd know and her usefulness to them would be at an end. But she needed to tell him.

Glancing at the phone she considered calling him. He'd be at Le Blues Bar now… perhaps playing his guitar and entertaining his patrons. No… now was not the time. Besides… Amy had a suspicion that both her phone and his might be tapped. His previous mutinous behavior was still known to her superiors. It was important that she seem to go along with the plans of the new regime in power. Otherwise… Amy rubbed one hand over her swelling abdomen… protecting the twins… protecting Burt… was far more important than anything else.

She would need to tell Joe something… but she'd have to wait until their regular weekly luncheon… in three days. Amy knew it would be a long three days. But to move any faster might mean that she was condemning them all to death… her father, her husband, her children, and herself. Amy could not take that chance.

"Patience," she whispered to the empty room. "Patience." The teakettle whistled and Amy headed to the kitchen to make a cup of herb tea.

The outdoor cafe was one of their favorite luncheon spots. Joe settled into an iron bistro chair within the low-walled garden area of the small cafe… accepted his menu and ordered water for both of them.

He glanced around. Amy was running late evidently. Other than the brief but warm call yesterday evening to be certain they were still on for lunch… Joe hadn't spoken to Amy much in the last week. If he didn't know better… he'd have thought she was pulling away.

Just then he saw Amy alight from a cab, give him a wave, and start in his direction. Once she arrived she leaned over to kiss his cheek and whispered, "We need to talk… not here… not now." She smiled and sat down chatting inanely about her last checkup and how everything was fine.

Joe's eyes momentarily narrowed… and then he relaxed back in his seat with a toothy grin and just listened. His mind was a whirl with implications. Something was up inside the Watchers and Amy feared surveillance. Well, the old Watcher thought, two can play that game. He was an old hand at looking innocuous when he needed to be. For twelve years he had shadowed Duncan MacLeod quite closely at times… and he'd never noticed him… not until the day he'd walked into the bookstore with the missing Chronicle in his hand. Had it not been for Horton's people messing up their surveillance… MacLeod still might not have given his Watcher a second glance.

So Joe and Amy ordered… they talked… they laughed. Joe paid the check and suggested a walk. He took Amy's arm with his free hand and together they slowly made their way down the street. At an intersection, Joe casually looked around while they waited and noted their tail. The man quickly turned to stare in a window.

Joe leaned his head close to Amy's and appeared to laugh, telling her a joke… but his words were different. "What's up darlin'… I see our little shadow back there."

"I think the new Council may have re-approved the Sanctuary Project."

The light changed. They slowly crossed the street.

"They know that was a mistake. They wouldn't dare start it up again."

"The new regional director said something about changes being implemented to assure that the game would continue."

Joe thought for a moment. In the aftermath of Jacob Kell's decimation of the Sanctuaries… it had been decided that the Watcher's would return to covert surveillance only. They would no longer interfere in the lives of the immortals for any reason. Of course, that had become difficult once Peter Taylor had begun attacking Watchers. And then there had been Nestor. Without Joe's and Amy's help in that that matter… that ancient evil might still be in the world. Had it been then that things had begun to change? Joe had been drummed out… that had not surprised him… and Amy censured and re-assigned… but even that had made some sense.

Laughingly he leaned in once more, "Who's the new director?"

"Henry Rawlins… do you know him?"

Joe did. Rawlins had been recruited into the Watchers in the mid-nineties. He'd done his time within the library and then had been assigned to Watch Amanda about the year 2000. After Amanda had vanished… he'd been re-assigned to Watch MacLeod in the wake of Joe's forced retirement. Rawlins had been circumspect in his activities… He'd also re-introduced the team concept so that an immortal was always Watched… even if his primary Watcher had to attend to personal business. A concept Joe had used on MacLeod to some extent before he and Mac had gotten to know one another.

"Rawlins is a good man," Joe murmured. "At least he was. He's been in the bar a few times when MacLeod was there… but he never made a scene or garnered any attention on Mac's part."

"Well, for the last year or so… he's been promoted ahead of others. He wants the library staff to start compiling some data… some old records he came across… and start formulating more complete bios and profiles of the immortals who remain."

"Into one place… like the database?"

They'd reached the gardens by this time and found a bench upon which to sit. Amy leaned in closly to Joe and continued to whisper… all the while punctuating her words with laughter as if they were speaking of mundane things… or the upcoming birth of the twins. "The database, as you often said, gives only a brief outline. Rawlins wants everything we know about an immortal gathered into one area so that each team of Watchers will have a complete record of their assignment in one easy to study electronic Chronicle. No more translating old texts as the need arises."

Joe leaned back on the bench thoughtfully fingering his cane. "That doesn't sound ominous."

"He also mentioned how in the last few years the number of immortals has dropped suddenly."

Joe's eyes widened a bit and he nodded. "The onset of the Gathering. We spoke of that even when I was still active."

"Rawlins mentioned that there are no new immortals being born. The few new immortals who have become active in the past twenty years all have one thing in common."

Joe stared quizzically at his daughter.

"They were all born before December 1985." Amy leaned back in the bench… staring out at the children at play… a wistful expression on her face. "They are dying, Joe. They are killing one another… and no more are being born to take their place. Rawlins wants to keep the game going somehow."

Joe laughed. "Medical science has come a long way. People don't die as often or as early as they did. There could be children out there now who carry the immortal potential… ones we have no clue about and probably won't for years."

"Joe…" Amy said levelly. "All the new immortals… the ones who do appear… are all older. Rawlins thinks that means that once the last of them becomes immortal… the final Gathering will commence. Already the numbers are dropping. In the last few years… so many have died that the records cite less than one hundred active immortals left… and that includes some like our friend 'the doctor' who have merely vanished."

1985? What had happened in that year? Joe tried to think back. The only event that really stood out in his mind was MacLeod and Tessa deciding to move to the states from Paris. Joe had been focused on that move… on changing his own lifestyle and living arrangements so that he could continue to watch the Highlander. After centuries of being a wanderer… Duncan MacLeod had settled down to a fairly stable life with the young French sculptor Tessa Noel. For the most part… he'd seemed out of the game for a number of years… until Connor MacLeod had come to town.

Startled… Joe let a curse drop, "Damn… the Kurgan! 1985 was when Connor MacLeod fought the Kurgan. His Watcher said Connor made some comment about that being the end of things… despite knowing there were others still out there."

"That's what Rawlins said," Amy nodded. "He believes that fight… may have changed things somehow."

"But that doesn't mean that there were no more foundlings!" Joe began and then stopped. He had met the boy Derrick in 2003… a ten year old, whom Mac had said was pre-immortal. If Rawlins was right… what about Derrick? Or had Mac and the others been mistaken. The boy had been something special… what was it Methos had said about him… Reborn? Joe smiled at Amy, there was no way he was going to break that confidence… no way… not without knowing more. "It's getting chilly… you need to go home." He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Stay safe baby… play it cool and tell me what you can when you can."

Amy nodded.

Later, after he'd returned by cab to Le Blues Bar, Joe stared at his safe and wondered if his journals were safe. Damn Mac! Where are you? he wondered. Mac had not returned from Cannes last February as expected. Joe had heard nothing from his immortal friend. He'd called him a few times… but had only gotten a voice recording to leave a message. Now… even that didn't happen. The account had been closed.

Joe wondered if Amanda had found Mac. He wondered if the Watchers knew where she was… or had she vanished again as well. Damn! Joe Dawson hated not knowing what was going on.