A short extra chapter for today. --elle

Chapter 66

Paris

Ian slowly climbed out of the blackness, realizing it wasn't death he was returning from so much as simply a drugged state of unconsciousness. He'd died… he was certain of that… He knew how it felt. But he'd evidently revived while drugged. Now the voices around him began to make sense. Ian strove to make no move… no flutter of an eyelid… no change in breathing pattern that would alert them he was aware of anything.

"Mr. Mischkov, I think you should see this," a male voice spoke, intelligent… the sound of x-ray film photo bending… slapped against something… the sound of a switch thrown. "See… his right arm must have been severed at some point."

"Interesting. I didn't think lost appendages grew back." Older male, a guttural accent… perhaps German… Russian… cold… deadly.

"It may not have been entirely removed… perhaps held on until it healed."

"Hmmm… wonder how good his arm is?"

"We could find out."

Mischkov seemed to rumble slightly as he considered it. "No… I leave that for Rawlins. Any word on the woman?"

Another voice, also male, younger, "No sir. Neither she nor MacLeod has returned to the hotel."

"If we didn't know he was with Amanda…" Mischkov mused, "I'd say he and the missus took off for a little R & R and left the boy to fend for himself."

Laughter from all of them.

Ian tried not to react.

"He should be out of it enough to answer questions." That was the doctor Ian thought.

"Excellent," Mischkov's voice was closer… perhaps standing over him. "Oh look… he's playing possum." More laughter.

Ian's heart sank. Evidently his readings or however they could tell anything about him were betraying his consciousness.

Mischkov continued. "Do we have ID on him yet."

"Just what was in the room… and they all seem to be aliases."

"Nothing from the Chronicles?" Mischkov again.

"Not yet."

"Likely as we suspected. MacLeod's student. Probably young. Less than fifty. Check those files." Mischkov ordered. Someone left… Ian heard a door close.

Ian could feel warm breath on his face as a soft seductive voice spoke. "Now then, who are you?"

Ian bit his tongue from the attempt to say nothing.

"Increase slightly," Mischkov said.

A moment later Ian felt a sense of euphoria. He opened his mouth and let out a great sigh.

"Better" Mischkov said. "Again… what is your name?"

For a moment Ian struggled with the concept and then said blankly, "John MacLeod." It was the English form of his first name… and MacLeod was what Mac had suggested to him if he ever needed to give a name somewhere.

"People know me… They'll know to leave you be."

"Are you so certain it won't create problems… People who want to hurt you… decidin' to take it out on me?"

Duncan had laughed. "We'll take that chance. Just remember. Don't give that as your name unless you've no choice."

"Another MacLeod… how interesting." Mischkov muttered. "Didn't the late Connor MacLeod adopt a boy? I'd thought he was dead. Check on those files."

Ian felt the breath on his cheek again. "Now then John… who is the female?"

Again Ian bit his tongue… once more he was flooded with the sudden sense of euphoria as his inhibitions floated away. "Ali… Alice." He let out, the final "s" sounded like a long hiss.

"What is her last name?"

"MacLeod," Ian managed… not certain how much longer he could maintain the lie. Already this voice was his friend… and he wanted to help his friend.

A hand stroked the side of his face and his hair. "That's right John… I'm your friend. You can trust me. Where are MacLeod and the female… Alice?"

Ian relaxed. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "I don't know." Beneath him was a chasm of darkness… Ian Daffyd floated above it momentarily… then sank eagerly into its cold embrace… letting the darkness close over him so that the voice was small and tinny and far… far away.

"I'm losing him."

"He's going back under… We can try again later…"

All was silence… and nothing.

-----

Paris

Melanie Pryor beat her fist angrily against the glass of the front door of Le Blues Bar. The place was locked up… and no one was about. Stepping back she stormed… growling under her breath. She stomped one foot twice and then both of them several times as she attempted release her anger.

"What's wrong?" said the soft male voice tinged with the barest hint of amusement behind her.

Melanie turned to see Joe Dawson standing behind her… evidently concerned.

"You don't know?"

"Know what?" he brushed past her to unlock the door.

"They took Delano."

"Who? Another immortal?"

"Watchers!" she hissed noticing he'd faltered almost imperceptibly as she'd tossed her accusations at him. "You set me up! You set him up for whatever this plan of yours is."

Dawson opened the door and stood to one side gesturing her inside.

Melanie entered and rounded on him as he was shutting the door… hearing the satisfying sound of a slap as her hand connected with his face.

Gently he massaged his cheek. "I deserved that. Now have a seat and I'll try to explain."

-----

An hour later, Melanie clutched the coffee cup between her hands. When Dawson offered a whiskey refill… she shook her head.

"You really think they won't kill him?"

"Melanie, I honestly don't know. All I do know is that a lot of immortals have gone missing lately. Some are friends of mine. Hell, Cassandra is one of the missing. The only way to get a lead on where they might be was to deliver an immortal to them, and then try to follow. We know they took him to Headquarters… the medical area. We think he may still be there."

Melanie changed her mind about the drink and reached for the bottle, pouring a shot into the mug and setting the bottle back down as she thoughtfully drank. "You could have told me."

"Not a chance. We didn't know how you'd react… and we needed you to be honest with them… your reactions needed to be on the money."

"Still… why Byron?"

Dawson shrugged. "Opportunity. One of my people was being pressured. I needed to set someone up… you happened by… and we went for it." Dawson sat back shaking his head as he slapped the table. "I didn't like doing it. But it had to be done. We have to find where they are holding the others… and stop this."

"I agree…" Melanie took another drink. "You say they have Cass too?"

"We think so. We did some backtracking and think this may have been going on for about six years. There are several references to Watchers being pulled off of immortals suddenly and then the immortal vanishes. Or the immortal just vanishes and the Watcher Chronicles are silent. My people are working to get at everything they can."

"But if you've known about this… why not do something…" Melanie shook her head.

"We are doing something. But none of us knew enough about what was happening to start putting it together until recently when I began to talk to people about what I'd learned. The more I and my other retired friends spoke with one another and then with all the others we knew… we only then began to get a clearer picture. The stories we were being told… did not add up."

"So what should I do?"

"Go back to London as they told you. Stay in contact from there. We could use another pair of eyes from inside."

"And Delano?"

"We pray he's important enough for them to keep. And that leads us to the others."

Melanie lay her head on her upraised hand. "And if he's not important to whatever they're doing."

Dawson had no reply.