Chapter 55

St. Louis, late afternoon, local time

Katya read Reagan's email with some sense of worry. While she and the bounty woman were hardly friends, they had both respected one another as females in what was essentially a man's game. They'd had an adventure together once upon a time… and while it had eased the tension between them… friendship was another thing entirely. Katya glanced up as Amber entered the cafe.

"I have us a car. We best book outta here. The sooner the better," the young woman said.

Katya nodded, turning off the cafe computer and following Amber out the door.

"What did your friends say?" Amber asked as slid behind the driver's seat of the blue Taurus.

"It's apparently the same in Europe. Whatever is happening… it's everywhere."

"Then we best be on the lookout for anyone Watchin', " Amber grinned as she turned on the ignition.

"East toward Washington. We'll link up with McCormick there and see what he knows."

"You trust him then?"

"For now," Katya said leaning back and adjusting her seatbelt. We need some help, and without him… we're just two fugitives on the run. We may need him to vouch for us at some point."

Amber pulled out into traffic and headed east. As a rule, she remained separated from other immortals except when unavoidable. Closely working with another, albeit one with whom she was now comfortable, was a new and different experience for her. "Never completely trust anyone!" Connor had told her… and she understood this… but living an immortal life was a lonely business… and Amber found she rather liked working with another one… even if it were only for a brief time. "Then to Washington we go," Amber said, letting the lilt in her voice nearly turn her words to song.

Katya looked at her strangely, then laughed and added her own lyrics, "For a huntin' we will go."

-----

Washington DC, early evening local time

Leaving his office, Matt was aware that Roberta was closely behind him. He wanted to talk with her… but not here at headquarters. As he stepped into the elevator he turned and smiled as she joined him.

"You know, Roberta, I don't believe we've ever seen each other outside the office." he bagan, letting his southern drawl drip a little more pronounced from his lips. "Are you in a hurry this evening… or would you have time for a drink?"

Roberta's mouth opened in surprise. He could almost see wheels turning in her head. "Well… uh… I have to get home but if I called… perhaps I could manage a drink."

Matt smiled, "Oh just a brief one at Clancy's. I have a date with those files you pulled for me… but I wanted to show my appreciation for all the work you did today."

Roberta smiled and nodded. When they exited the building, she made a quick call her on cell phone to her husband about where she was going and promised to call when she left. He wasn't a Watcher, but he knew she was. He'd understand she was on her assignment.

Matt took her arm as they headed down the street to the nearby bar. "It occurred to me today that you've been with me for several years and yet I really don't know anything about you."

Roberta gazed at him curiously. "I'm married and you know I have two children." She laughed. She'd been pregnant each time while working with him… although she wondered if he'd ever noticed.

"Yes… I do recall that," Matt said and steered her into the bar, giving a wave to the proprietor as he led her to a booth and offered her a seat. "I don't recall what names you gave them. Most remiss of me."

"Brandon is ten and Jennifer is seven," Roberta managed with a smile.

Matt nodded. He ordered when the waitress happened by and then leaned back regarding Roberta with amusement. "Do they know what it is you do for a living, Roberta?"

"Yes, I've even spoken to Jennifer's class about the bureau when they did a recent career day." She was surprised to see McCormick smirk slightly.

"I wasn't referrin' to the bureau… but to the Watchers?"

Roberta's eyes widened in fear. "I'm… I'm certain I have no idea what you mean," she stammered.

Matt's smile widened. "Oh I think you do. Now what I wish to know… is what exactly are you people and what do you do."

Roberta clasped her hands, fumbling with her sleeves and the wide bracelet she wore to cover her wrist. Matt stretched out a hand… grasped her wrist gently and removed the bracelet. He turned her hand so that her tattoo was easily seen.

"I just came from a murder scene where someone with one of those was found dead. Now what I need to know, Roberta, is this: Do I need to worry that someone will be coming for me soon?"

Roberta's mouth moved up and down spasmodically. No words issued forth. When the waitress arrived with their drinks… McCormick let her hand go and continued to regard her as she turned the drink about between her hands. Finally she took a long drink, spilling some on her blouse. Wiping her lips and brushing the front of her blouse seemed to pull her back into reality. She took a deep breath.

"What do you need to know?" she asked.

-----

An hour later, Matt saw Roberta to her car and watched her drive away home. He'd not let on too much about what he'd learned in St. Louis, trusting instead that his long association and friendly treatment of Roberta would work in his stead… that she would be as truthful with him as he needed.

Roberta's understanding of Watchers was a generational thing. Her view was similar to the one Amber had given him… mortals who simply watched and recorded an immortal's life so that it would never be forgotten. Yet even Roberta's words had indicated that there were things going on in the organization that worried her… things she was being asked to do that seemed to go against all that her parents and grandparents had ever told her.

"Understand Mr. McCormick… I'm working in a time where surveillance and computer databases change what's been done for centuries… but I wonder if it's smart."

Matt had agreed. If immortals were being watched… then he feared it would one day be too much like Orwell's 1984. He and his kind would have no privacy. They'd be unable to go anywhere or do anything without someone knowing about it. "Next thing you know," he'd chuckled at her, "we'll be tagged like pets or criminals."

Roberta had smiled at that and shaken her head. "I don't think it would ever come to that. We simply want to know how each of you used your immortality and whether when all of you are gone… if some of you should be missed."

"You make it sound like we are dying out." Matt had chuckled.

"I read a memo recently noting that no new immortals had been born after 1985. If that's so… there are no more of you coming… the end of days is upon you… the Gathering has begun."

Matt had shaken his head at that point. The Gathering and all the legends about it continued to bother him, but he'd learned long ago to not worry about it. "It is what it is," he'd once told a student he'd had about sixty years ago… a young man who'd lost his head in his first challenge. Matt had been saddened by his loss… but had understood that not all would move forward. Yet… Matt McCormick did not want the game to be what it was… he wanted something else… he wanted a way for his kind to co-exist and not slaughter one another. Yet he had no idea how that might happen.

Now, watching Roberta drive home to her family, Matt realized how much he missed his own. His last wife had died from cancer twenty years ago. That's when he'd re-invented himself once more and joined the bureau. He hadn't wanted another family since then… but it did make for a lonely life. Glancing up and down at the nearly deserted street, Matt figured he'd best get to safety… just in case Roberta wasn't the only Watcher on him… just in case his involvement in the events in St. Louis had made someone, somewhere decide he was a liability to be removed.

Matt hailed a taxi and gave it instructions for a hotel across the river. He wasn't going home… not for a few days… nor was he driving his car if he could help it. As he sat in the back seat, he pulled up his email on his hand-held and noted one from Duncan MacLeod. McCormick read it with interest. Whatever was happening… it wasn't just happening here.

-----

Paris

Avril Mischkov sorted through the latest intelligence coming in from their people around the world. All but a handful of the immortals in Watcher files who were still at large were under surveillance… and the new protocols he'd instigated just today were already reaping rewards. They would find them all… and Rawlins would be please.

He glanced up at Tydings. "Yes, what is it?"

"We have him. He's under sedation as we speak."

"Before he goes under completely, I want to try and interview him… find out just exactly who he knows and what he knows."

"Shall I tell medical to expect you then?"

"Please."

As Tydings left, Mischkov smiled and flipped to a chart of immortals. He ran a black line through another name. This was an unimportant one… one Rawlins didn't care about… not a major player. But Mischkov knew that the details were in the thoroughness of the job he did. He interviewed them all. Sometimes what they knew led him to others… especially ones not currently under surveillance.

Rising, he straightened his jacket and pulled at his cuff-linked sleeves. A glance in his mirror showed that he was fully in control… and looked it. He smiled ever so darkly, Then flipped out his office lights as he descended to medical.

Entering the holding room Mischkov looked over the male on the gurney. "Have you reduced the drugs?"

"Yes sir," the doctor murmured. "He should be coming around in five… four… three… two…"

The immortal's eyes began to flutter.

"I don't want him fully aware… just enough to answer a few questions," Mischkov said as he leaned his mouth toward the immortal's ear.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"Byron Delano," came the whispered reply.

"Who were you waiting for in Paris?"

"Her," Delano whispered and then struggled as if wanting to silence his words.

Mischkov indicated a slight increase in the dosage. "Who is she?"

The bland even voice continued. "I don't know."

"Why were you waiting on that roof?"

"To see her again."

Describe her to me." Mischkov listened while Delano described the female immortal. The Watcher straightened thoughtfully. "Sounds like the one in Geneva that Keith Boyer spoke with," he murmured. "A very small immortal female… might be taken for a child. The hair isn't the same… but she vanished heading east." Mischkov stepped away and indicated that the full dose be given. "Keep him well-restrained while here… and until you get him to the facility. We do not want to risk losing another one."

Returning to his office… Mischkov pulled up the database he'd been compiling on sightings and possible sightings and added Delano's description to the one on the small female that no one could quite describe fully. Slowly he tapped his little finger against the shift key as he considered what he might have. "The area near St. Julien Le Pauvre," he whispered… and felt as though some cold wind had blown through his office. Too many odd things had happened in that area over the centuries… and many of them had involved a tall male and a tiny female… both likely immortal. But neither had ever been clearly described… nor had they ever been seen with other immortals in the area… or ever in combat… not until now.

The tall young man and the tiny woman in Geneva might be this pair… but if so… who were they… and what were they? Mischkov stared thoughtfully at his computer screen. But he knew he didn't know… and he wanted to know… he wanted to know very badly.

He would likely be here most of the night… he had calls to make. He needed to put a Watcher atop the building where they'd found Delano to keep an eye out for this pair… and they needed to deal with Delano's Watcher. She evidently was not too happy right now.

And… Mischkov still had to find Duncan MacLeod. Without him, Rawlins had said that the entire project might be fruitless.

He switched screens and began to go through hotel check-in records. "You're here… I know you're here. All I have to do is find you."