Chapter 64

Berlin

Reagan sat cuffed in the office… she pulled the cuff tautly and sighed. When the door opened and the inspector entered she crossed her legs and regarded him calmly. "Well… do the references check out?"

"Ja, Fräulein… it appears you have a permit and were indeed on a case."

"Then I can go?"

The inspector opened a drawer… pulling out a massive sandwich. Folding down the paper he took a bite as if considering her request. "Tell me again why you discharged it in the mall?"

Reagan shifted position, crossing her long legs and sighed. "I was being followed. I needed to create a diversion… one that would bring the authorities. It was all I could think of." She shrugged and smiled winningly. "I'm not really too experienced in this line of work yet." The references she'd given him were for an identity of a fairly new bounty hunter. "I've been very patient." She pulled at the cuffs… the links clinked in the effort. "Are you certain I can't go? I said I'd pay a fine and any damages." Reagan smiled once more, even daring a couple of helpless eye-battings.

The inspector nodded and took another bite… chewing slowly. "Tell me again who was after you?"

Reagan glared at him momentarily and then smiled as she leaned forward. "Organized crime. They were out to stop my investigation into the kidnapping and possible murder of my client's daughter."

"And your client is?" He smiled at her benevolently.

"I'm not at liberty to say," Reagan answered for the fiftieth time it seemed like since she'd been brought in.

The inspector seemed to nod as he considered her answer. Finally he set the sandwich down and tossed her the key.

Swiftly she removed the cuffs and tossed the key back to him. "I can go?"

"Apparently. But you have a court date. Don't leave town."

"Of course not," she smiled rising. She ran one finger through a drop of Russian dressing that had oozed onto the desk's surface. "Mmmm!" she said licking her finger. "I might have to try one of those." She turned and left.

Reagan signed for her gun and effects at the front desk. Thankfully she'd not had her sword on her. She seldom carried it when on the job… preferring to elude challengers until the time and place of her choice. And because of occurrences like this where she had to deal with authorities.

"You just better have stayed put!" she muttered under her breath as she thought of Warren. Slipping out a side entrance, Reagan managed to pass down an alleyway and over a fence before making her way carefully to the hotel. She scanned the crowd on the streets carefully and the one in the lobby even more so before daring the elevator. Once on the twelfth floor, she descended stairs to the sixth and knocked the code on the door.

Warren opened it with a sigh. "Thank God!" he said. "I was so worried."

"I ran into some friends of yours and had to get arrested to avoid them. Let's go!"

"Go?"

"Unless you'd rather stay here."

Warren looked around the room. "Nope." He grabbed his coat and used the remote to shut off the television. "Where are we off to?"

"Southeast for the moment… Let's go." Reagan grabbed her things and left, descending through the stairwell to the parking garage. After quickly checking the car for monitoring devices or other additions… she unlocked it and climbed behind the driver's seat.

"Shouldn't we check out first?" Warren said as he climbed in.

"Hadn't planned on it." Reagan started the ignition and listened carefully to the sound of the engine. Nodding, she shifted into reverse and backed speedily out of the spot. Changing gears… she floored the gas and headed out onto the strasse. With a right turn… she was into traffic and they were on their way once more.

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Grace Chandel carefully inoculated another child whose tear-filled eyes made her smile. "There there," she whispered and chuckled as she held out a small piece of hard candy to the little girl curled in her mother's lap. "She may run a slight fever tonight. That is to be expected. Just give her plenty of fluids and love."

The mother nodded and left… the little girl in hand.

Watching them go, Grace gazed after them sadly. She always felt especially sad when working with children… and wistful.

"Wishing we had them?" John's soft voice sounded from nearby.

Grace turned. "It's not to be. Is that it?"

"Looks like it for today." He rubbed his hands together and looked through the window at the street. Around them both several of his mortal followers straightened the room and swept the floor. Grace sighed. She'd gotten the permits to do inoculations for childhood diseases in this impoverished area only yesterday. Yet many had come… as if the word of the free health clinic had spread like magic.

John crossed to her side and picked up the tray of unused vaccine. "I'll refrigerate this. You rest."

"I'm fine… really." Grace smiled at him and rubbed her arms. "Although I am a little tired."

"It's been a long day. You should try to rest." He turned to hand the tray to one of the followers when the door to the mission opened.

Grace was immediately uneasy. The two men entered looking around.

"Guten Tag! " John said and opened his hands in greeting. Almost immediately he was surrounded by his followers.

The two men gazed at all of them.

Finally one stepped closer and said in in English. Mr. Kage, Ms. Chandel… we need you to come with us."

John stepped back and looked about.

"Please sir… for your own safety. There is danger here and we need to get you away."

John spread his hands once more. "I'm a simple man. What danger could I be in? You have me confused with someone else."

The man shook his head as he glanced at the mortals. "For their sake Mr. Kage… They are coming for you both… and they will kill them to get to you."

The man held out a hand and exposed a strange tattoo on his wrist.

John stared and then turned to Werner. "Get everyone out of here, schnell. Make certain everyone is safe," he whispered in German over the protestations of several. "Schnell!" he encouraged. As they left… voicing their concern, Grace stood next to him and placed her hand about his arm.

Once the four of them were alone. The man spoke again. "My name is Aaron Hatchell. I'm your Watcher."

"And that means?"

The man shook his head. "There are those within my organization who are interfering in the Game. I'm interfering by talking with you… but I believe in you… and in what the two of you are doing. Trust me please. You are not safe here."

John shrugged, still pretending ignorance. "I'm certain all would be welcome here. I really have no idea…"

"You are the immortal once known as Kage… a mercenary, a bully, who first died in the year 710. You took the name John Kirin in 1975 and have spent the intervening years atoning for your centuries of crimes. You…" he nodded to Grace, "… are Grace Chandel… need I continue?"

"How do you know these things?" Grace murmured.

"Please… I will explain as we go… But for now… I need to get you away from here."

"If you know what we are," John said quietly. "You know we have nothing to fear."

"Even from those who would take your heads?" When the immortals reacted, Hatchell held out a hand and motioned them to follow. "Please…"

John met Grace's gaze. She nodded and still holding onto his arm, they followed Aaron Hatchell and his companion to the street and climbed into the back of the dark blue van waiting at the curb.

Once they were under way… Hatchell leaned forward. "I know this is a lot to take in… but I need to explain. My organization has watched immortals for centuries. We write histories of your lives. We have often felt that the lives you lead might one day impact for good or ill upon our lives. Your lives inspire us."

"And these others?" John asked.

Hatchell looked down and shook his head. "It has come to my attention that there are those within our organization who are jealous of what you have… who would learn what makes you the way you are, or who are anxious to control the outcome of the game. Friends of mine in Paris contacted me recently warning me of this fact. When I was told an hour ago to pull my watch off of you… and stand down… I realized my friends were right, and that you two were the next targets. I made the decision not to let that happen."

"These men you speak of," Grace asked suddenly. "Were they the ones who killed Darius in 1993?"

Hatchell closed his eyes and nodded. "Not the same men… those were punished. But like-minded men who've taken control once more. I refuse to let that happen again. Darius was a great loss… a very great loss." He leaned back at something said by the driver, then nodded. Leaning forward again he continued, "A friend of mine has an estate west of here. I'm taking you there."

"Holy ground?" asked John.

Hatchell shook his head. "Afraid not… but then… holy ground only keeps you safe from your kind… not from ours. Darius was killed on holy ground."

"But you think we will be safe there?"

"For a bit. They'll figure it out… but I should have time to fully explain all I know. Suffice it to say… I have a name for you. Duncan MacLeod."

"Duncan?" Grace laughed. "You know Duncan?"

Hatchell shook his head. "No… but a good friend does. If anything happens to me… you need to find Duncan MacLeod. My friend says he's in Paris."

"Won't he be watched as well?" John asked with a smile.

"He would be… if they knew where he was. My friend was once his Watcher. He's retired… but they stay in touch. MacLeod knows as much about what's going on as any immortal… If anything happens," Hatchell held out a piece of folded paper. When John took it, he continued. "That's my friend's name and telephone number. Get to Paris and call that number. Ask for Francis. It's a code name. He'll know it's you. An hour later… watch for a bearded man using a cane at the Cimetiere de Passy. He'll know both of you on sight. His name is Joe Dawson."

"And we can trust this man?" Grace asked.

Hatchell nodded. "Memorize that number and destroy the paper. Ask Joe what Henri's daughter's name is. If he says Estelle, then you've the right man."

"Who is Henri?" Grace laughed.

Hatchell chuckled, "I have no idea. I know this is all cloak and dagger… but I was told to give you this information first… and quickly. I'll explain more fully at the estate… and hopefully… I will accompany you to Paris. This is just in case something happens to me."

John opened the paper and memorized the number. He passed it to Grace who did the same. Silently she tore it into small pieces. Hatchell held out an ashtray. Grace dropped the pieces of paper into it and watched as Hatchell set fire to them.

She took a deep breath and leaned into John's side as he put an arm about her shoulders. Thus they sat quietly for the remainder of the ride.