Chapter 113

Outside the Watcher Compound, Switzerland

"She's alive,"Grace explained further, "It's just I don't really sense her right now." She lay a reassuring hand on the howling Derrick. "It's as if she's mortal."

"She's not mortal," Alisaunne insisted as she knelt at Eleanor's side. "She just needs our strength." Clasping hands with Grace, Duncan, Amanda and Cory… Alisaunne focused on Eleanor and the fading sense of her that she still had.

Peter Ryan scratched his head as he watched the group gather around the collapsed woman. "What the…?" he murmured wonderingly. He looked up as he saw a harrier jet… approach on the horizon… and hover over the compound… then settle down. He reached to shake MacLeod's shoulder. "We got company."

MacLeod pulled back and rose. Grabbing Ryan's binoculars, he focused on the men alighting from the helicopter. "I don't know them." He handed the binoculars back to Ryan who peered through them. "That's Burt!"

He punched a number into his cell phone. "Hey boss. On the mountain. Yeah..." he handed the phone to Duncan. "My boss wants to talk to you."

"This is Duncan MacLeod."

"MacLeod… I'm Joe Dawson's son-in-law, Burt Meyers. We've never met. We're here to help you take this place back with as little loss of life as possible. Pierre Gautier sends his compliments."

"We're on our way." Duncan glanced at the others. "Grace… you wait here with Derrick and Ellie. The rest of you… come with me. We have some work to do."

Grace stood, and he saw something harden in her expression. "I am not some helpless female, Duncan MacLeod… so get off your white charger. John is down there… and I will be in the assault."

"I can't reach her," Alisaunne mumbled as she stood. "I thought if we all tried… maybe I could. But there's nothing any of us can do now… except get down there."

Duncan nodded. "Derrick… you stay here with Ellie."

The young man shook his head as he struggled to his feet… Ellie in his arms. "She needs Methos. That means we have to get her down there. I'll look after her. I promised him I would."

"No!" Duncan snapped. "This is not your fight!"

Derrick smiled. "But it is… and you know it. She needs Adam. I need to get her there. I can fight, Duncan. I'll protect her… but I need to get her down there."

"Look," Ryan interrupted. "I have no idea what you people are talking about… With Burt's group taking control… I rather doubt there will be much of a fight."

Duncan turned to face the mercenary. "You have no idea what's going on… here… and there will be a fight." He turned to his party… "Let's go… and… watch your heads."

-----

By the time their van had descended the mountain and reached the chateau… another chopper had arrived. As MacLeod pulled into the parking lot… he first felt and then saw Phillip's presence amongst the new arrivals.

MacLeod crossed the lot to grasp the Swordmaster by the arm. "Couldn't stay away… could you?"

"That's me MacLeod. Look for me unexpectedly in strange places." He was nearly bowled over by Amanda's embrace.

"I was so worried about you and the others," she said warmly. "Why are you here?"

Phillip gave her a sad look. "We were attacked on Niebos."

Amanda pulled back. "Who?"

Phillip sighed and glanced around. "We lost Luke in the initial battle. Later, we lost Ursa, and… finally Nick."

Amanda paled. MacLeod grabbed his arm. "Nestor?"

"Contained for the moment."

"Hello MacLeod."

Duncan looked up at Reagan Cole and chuckled. "Why am I not surprised."

Reagan winked. "Phillip's an old acquaintance. And this…" she pulled the young immortal behind her up… "is Keith Boyer. Keith… this is Duncan MacLeod… the Highlander."

Keith nodded curtly. "So… is it all over?"

A thin hawkish man in his forties joined them. "Burt Meyers," he said as he held one hand out to MacLeod. "We've control of the surface area… but the elevators to the lower levels where we believe your friends are being held… have been locked down. Ryan…" he turned to Peter Ryan. "Position your people to help and coordinate."

"Show me," Duncan said and followed Burt into the chateau and across the wide lobby to the elevator shafts.

A small man wearing coveralls glanced up. "They've over-ridden my commands. Those cars are not coming up."

"How far down?" Duncan asked.

"Maybe a hundred feet or so. I was only down there once… and that was years ago. It's a cavernous room carved out of the bedrock of the mountain. There are two elevator entrances… this one and a cargo one. That one is also locked down."

"Ventilation?" Duncan pressed, staring about at the obvious tubes above him.

"A separate system from this one, I think."

A woman also in coveralls raced up… schematics in hand. "This is all I could find in the director's office."

Duncan snatched them and unrolled them. Phillip grasped one side and stared at the plans. "Ever do any mountain climbing, MacLeod?" He met Duncan's gaze with a wink.

"Quite a bit over the years." Duncan glanced at Burt. "We need rappelling equipment. Phillip and I have to get down there."

Burt called out commands to the people standing around. Soon… one of them had brought some equipment. By that time, Phillip and Duncan had stripped off outerwear and strapped their swords to their backs along with automatics. So had Amanda.

"No!" Duncan said.

"Duncan… I'm the best high-wire aerialist in the group. Trust me… this will be a cakewalk. Besides… someone has to hack into the car's internal computer and get it moving again."

Keith raised one hand. "Uh... that would be me… but I've never done ropework before."

"Exactly…" snapped Amanda. "Wire me to him so he can help me out with the hacking. You two can hold off the attackers while I get the car back to the surface for support."

Burt snapped his fingers and Amanda was handed an earpiece and fiber mike. Keith was handed another one.

"You just better be that good!" Amanda told the young man.

Reagan grinned. "He's not much of a fighter… but computers…" she winked. "He's the best there is."

"Phillip and I will hold them off, Amanda. Then you join us and send the car up. The rest of you… he eyed the immortals… be the first ones down. We don't know what we'll find down there… so be ready for anything. Then send the car back for Burt's people." He met Burt's eyes. "You do know what we are." Burt nodded.

The two coveralled engineers had pried the elevator doors open. Alarms had gone off as they'd done so.

Phillip sighed. "They'll be ready for us. You and me MacLeod… in case they're in the car. Amanda… you'll be next. We'll give you as much time as we can."

Phillip leaned over and kissed the unconscious Eleanor's forehead and squeezed Derrick's arm. "Look after her lad. I'll find him and bring him back." He pulled on the heavy leather gloves and saluted the boy.

Derrick nodded.

Duncan hooked his gear to the cables and jumped off into the shaft, falling twenty feet before being snapped up sharply as the nylon rope played out. Now he'd slowly work his way down. Phillip followed. Hand over hand they headed down into the darkness along the elevator car's connections. The small window of light above… became smaller and smaller. Faster and faster they descended… and the feel of immortality grew in the darkness.

"At least they are alive," gasped Phillip at one point."

"Let's hope they stay that way," Duncan responded and then looked up. He could feel Amanda on her way down. "She's fast."

"Then we need to be faster," Phillip said. He rehooked his gear and leaped off into the shaft again… suffering the near backbreaking snap when the rope played out. Duncan did the same. Then they gathered the rope and rehooked themselves for another leap… and then another. By this time… the only light either of them saw was the infrequent red service lights. And the heat in the shaft was rising.

"Do you think it's intentional," Phillip asked at one stop. He wiped one hand across his brow.

"I think it's just the lack of air movement and the descent into the earth. Duncan swept one gloved hand over the smooth rockface of the shaft. "Wonder what they used to cut this passage?"

Phillip snorted. "Does it matter?"

Duncan shook his head. "Nope…" and they leapt again into the darkness.

-----

Within the Dream

Methos twisted away from the trident… managing to keep a tight grip on the sword in his hands. He shuddered as he drew a ragged breath.

His opponent laughed. "I've studied all your moves. I'm ready for you." He pulled back the trident and prepared to lash forward with it one more time…

From off to one side… he was suddenly attacked by an angry creature. She'd leaped like a small bundle of fury onto Methos' attacker. Her hands clawed at his opponent's face… her teeth clamped onto his neck.

Methos drew a ragged breath as he realized that somehow… Eleanor had materialized within the dream. As his opponent fell… the man yelled, "Pull me out!" and his form shimmered and faded to nothing.

Eleanor rose… her eyes darting about… her hands clenching and unclenching. Then she backed toward Methos. Crouching beside him she lightly touched his healing back. "Now that looks nasty."

"What kept you?" smirked Methos… already feeling stronger as he regained his feet and pulled her up with him.

"Ah… you know," she shrugged. "I never learned to fly."

"Should you be here? If I die in this… so will you."

"Then we die together," she smirked and kissed him lightly before turning to gaze at the nightmare landscape. "He'll be back… and he'll be stronger the next time. And my presence won't surprise him."

Methos flexed the sword. "Can you arm yourself?"

Eleanor closed her eyes and extended one arm. For a moment she concentrated. Finally she opened them again with a sigh. "Evidently not."

Methos pulled her to stand behind him as he began to circle. "Watch my back then."

"Always," Eleanor laughed.

-----

Watcher Laboratory

Henry Rawlins thrashed on the table and hissed as he grabbed Wilderman by the neck. "What was that?"

Wilderman blanched. "I don't know. The readings spiked. Perhaps his dream partner?"

Rawlins released the scientist and lay back gasping… attempting to orient himself. Wilderman had insisted that they were moving too fast… but after seeing the success of his men in pulling the immortal essence and quickening of the dreamers into themselves… after seeing their remarkable healing… Rawlins hadn't wanted to wait.

"Link me to one of the younger ones. I'll take his and then go back in. I want this one's knowledge!"

Wilderman's mouth moved up and down, but no words issued forth. Finally he nodded and turned to an assistant to have another specimen prepared.

Rawlins turned his head to observe the placid face of number 47. "Enjoy your little interlude. I'll return shortly! You… are mine."

A few minutes later… Henry Rawlins entered the dream again… and this time… the immortal he faced was no match for him. Filled with power that seemed to crackle and flow through his veins… he laughed maniacally. Lifting a hand as he withdrew from the scenario… he lifted one hand in wonder.

"It's done," a flustered Wilderman opined. "Now this is enough. Please Director… Let's stop. I desperately need to review the data we've collected so far."

Rawlins narrowed his eyes. "Hervé!" he snapped at one of his men. "If this man does not do what he is told… kill him."

Hervé grinned. He drew his sword and turned to Wilderman with a sneer. There was a wild madness in his eyes, as of something unleashed that had long been contained. "Hear that little man," he hissed. "Death awaits you."

A fearful Wilderman apparently agreed and began to bark orders to his assistant. Rawlins heard the scientist mumble under his breath, "This would be easier with Dr. Romney."

"No one is irreplaceable, Wilderman… not even you. Now get on with it." He felt the drugs enter his system… felt the armor appear on his body. Once more he returned to the arena. This time he towered over the loin-clothed immortal and his partner… and this time… there was a massive sword in his hand.

-----

Upstairs in the office, Claire Romney finally found the courage to sit up. She was cold… and the pain had become a never-ending ache. She stumbled to the private bathroom… noticing the blood in her urine. There was clearly some internal bleeding. Staring into the mirror as she turned the water on and reached for a towel… she noted that one eye was completely red… while the other was so swollen shut from the beating so could barely see out of it.

She soaked the towel and then began to gently wipe her face of the blood. She grimaced slightly at the loose teeth. For some reason they seemed to hurt the worse. She had a feeling her jaw was broken, too. "Bastard!" she thought.

Idly she ran her fingers through her tangled hair… matted with blood. Finding a comb, she began to gingerly comb through it… wincing at the pain. She lowered her head to the sink and began to wash some of the dried blood away… noting also the fresh scarlet drops of new blood in the stainless steel bowl.

Turning the faucet off… she dried her face and toweled her hair. There was little improvement in her appearance. She considered a shower… but feared that if she removed the remains of her clothing… he'd do more than just beat her when he returned.

She fiddled with her clothes, attempting to re-order them. Several of the buttons on her blouse were gone… but with the few that remained… she held it closed… and dabbed at the blood spatters. Satisfied that she had done all she could in that regard… she tucked it into her skirt and smoothed everything.

One hand rested on her swelling abdomen. She had a feeling the internal bleeding was severe. She'd likely be dead by nightfall without medical assistance. Re-entering the office… Claire stood over the dead corpse of her predecessor and wondered how she had managed to stay alive so long.

Crossing to his desk… she flipped on his bank of monitors and settled into the desk chair to observe what was happening. Taking note of his black-garbed henchman slapping one another on the back and posturing about the laboratory… Claire realized that Rawlins had instigated the final phase. His cadre of new immortals was now ready. Somehow she doubted that helping mankind was on their minds. The way they moved… they were focused on world domination.

She saw Rawlins linked to number 47… Methos! Despite his name appearing in none of the records here… Claire had understood that this immortal was the eldest… and likely the most powerful. She turned to his computer… Long ago… when this was Julius Wilderman's office… the doctor had linked this to the set-up below. Her broken jaw wouldn't let her smile… but Claire Romney's eyes were bright. No one knew this set up as well as she did… and maybe… just maybe… she could arrange a little surprise for the director.

She was vaguely aware of klaxons blaring as her fingers moved over the keyboard and into the programming of the system.