Chapter 114

Watcher Compound, Switzerland

Duncan's booted feet made contact finally with the roof of the elevator car. He grimaced at the small thud and then stepped to one side as Phillip likewise arrived. The immortal buzz was almost overwhelming.

"There must be dozens of us in there," murmured Phillip softly as he unbuckled the gear and stepped out of it.

"Just be ready," Duncan replied. He knelt by the access panel… his automatic ready in his hand. Phillip silently finger counted to three and then the two of them flipped the access panel open and leaned back… fully expecting a rain of bullets.

There was nothing.

Duncan peered carefully over the edge.

"The car doors are closed… it looks empty." He lowered himself into the car… followed by the Greek. Duncan could feel the immortals on the far side of the door. It felt like a torrent within his head. He shook it.

Phillip laughed. "So many in one place! I fear that there may be heads taken before this is over! Ready?"

Amanda lowered herself into the car. "I'm in," she said to Boyer over the microphone. She gracefully stepped out of the harness and crossed to the access panel pulling out a hand-held and cabling it to a port. She winked at Phillip and blew Duncan a kiss.

Just then… the car doors opened. Duncan aimed… then fired at the two black-garbed men. They staggered back and ran hands over their rapidly healing chests. Then they looked at Duncan triumphantly.

"What the…?" Duncan said lowering his weapon. "They're not immortals."

"No… but there is something," replied Phillip as drew his sword with a grin. "It's been a long time since I've so looked forward to a battle. Ready, Highlander?"

"More than ready," Duncan replied drawing his katana. He met Amanda's eyes. "Get this car running. Phillip and I will keep them busy."

Amanda nodded and watched them exit… their swords already swinging. She punched in an override code to force the car's doors shut once more; then she focused on the screen of the hand-held… and the voice of Keith Boyer in her ear.

-----

Duncan swung his katana in an uppercut and then pivoted as it met the solid swing of his opponent's broadsword. The man had blocked the move perfectly. He could feel the weak hum about this one… similar to but not the same as a pre-immortal. He lashed out with the katana again and also managed to grab the man's head. He lifted one knee and slammed the head into it.

His opponent staggered back and shook his head. Duncan slashed him across the chest. Again his opponent staggered back… the gash already healing. "Accelerated healing… just great!" Duncan mumbled as he launched a flurry of moves on the man… forcing him backward to the railing of a catwalk. He landed several good blows… all of which his opponent gradually shook off.

Duncan paused, aware that more of these bastard immortals were on their way. "I don't think they believe in one-on-one!" he yelled to Phillip as he slashed again at his opponent and then shouldered him so that he fell to the floor of the cavern below. He landed half atop an unconscious immortal female on a gurney and then bounced to the floor. Almost immediately he stood… shook his head and stretched. Pointing upward at Duncan he thrust a white-coated woman and medical equipment out of his way as he clambered to get back to the fight.

"Don't these guys die," Duncan said as he observed him and then turned to face the next onslaught.

"Watch my back, Highlander!" Phillip said as he grabbed his opponent by the hair and pulled him low. With one swing he removed the head. The body fell. Phillip raised the head. "I rather think they die the same way we do!"

No quickening erupted.

Duncan grinned as Phillip tossed the head at the nearest of their next opponents. "And no quickening to weaken us!"

"Let's slice and dice then!" Phillip laughed and charged the nearest man. Duncan had only a moment to note Phillip's swift and economical moves as he shifted through three men… neatly beheading two of them before being brought up short by the third.

Duncan managed to slash that man across his back, before being set upon by two more. He focused on his own battle, trusting the Swordmaster to manage his. One thing was for certain… they needed help… and soon.

"C'mon Amanda!" Duncan thought. "Get that car running!"

-----

"Success!" yelled Amanda into the mike even as she pulled the computer connection loose and ripped the mike from her ear. She punched door open and then the button for the Lobby. She slipped through the opening doors of the car and into the fight of her life. Duncan had told her to wait… but Amanda was never good at following his orders. Besides… she had a feeling he needed help now.

-----

When the elevator doors opened at the main lobby, Reagan piled into the car with the other immortals. "Follow us next trip!" she yelled at Burt Meyers.

Alisaunne pulled both of her swords… she bounced on the balls of her feet… eager to be in the fray. The peace of the ancient had been fading the further from Paris she'd come. Nestor was a silent presence in the back of her mind… as he had been for much of her immortal life… present… but not active… waiting.

Keith and Grace limbered up as the car descended… their own blades in their hands. Grace had never fought many… and Keith was young, but experienced. Reagan wondered how well they'd do. Still… they likely would need both of them.

The elevator slowed its descent and came to a soft landing. The doors opened. Alisaunne leaped through them at the sound of steel on steel.

"Bout time!" Duncan yelled as a head hit the iron grating of the catwalk. "Take heads… nothing else kills them!" he slashed downward with a fierce double-handed stroke and another head rolled. Immediately he turned to face another opponent.

Alisaunne whirled like a dervish. Something of the style of Ahmoud Hassan flared in her movements before she settled into the solid routines that Duncan had taught her. "That's why we take their heads!" she thought, as she slashed and thrust at the bigger opponent. "We need the knowledge and strength of the other immortals to add to our own as we face stronger and stronger opponents." These strange mortals who healed were not what she wanted. They offered nothing… they were only an impediment to the game. She slashed the small katana down one-handed on a neck… satisfied that the head had rolled and turned eagerly to the next one… slashing his midsection deeply with her wakizachi. The burly man stepped back… almost in wonder as he observed his healing. Alisaunne was not impressed. She smiled as his headless body slumped to the floor.

Reagan used all the skill she had accumulated in the past few hundred years… and she still wondered at the skill some of these men had. They moved and sliced as if they'd been doing it for centuries. She stumbled back… aware that she was bleeding. Unlike these monsters… she didn't heal so quickly. What was up with that? They were immortal… yet not immortal… and below her… she could sense immortals.

A quickening rose to her left and she shuddered in the face of it as Keith Boyer's life force lanced into her. The young man's computer savvy raced through her mind in the form of code that seemed written in fire. Vaguely, Reagan heard Duncan shout for someone to watch her back until she recovered. "Damn!" she thought. "They neither release a quickening… nor accept one as we do!"

As she fell to her knees gasping. A head rolled on the grating before her. She looked up at Phillip's wink and struggled to her feet once more… determined that no more of their party should fall.

-----

Grace had not faced a challenge in years… but she'd practiced on her own… especially as she'd realized that John would not pick up a sword nor face a challenge ever again. She had… in many ways… accepted the mantle of protecting him within the game… even as he protected her in other ways. For once… she'd had no illusions about white knights or fairy tales. She'd understood that for them both to survive… she'd needed to fight. So now she was fighting… for them both… and for their future.

It surprised her how easy this became within minutes… slicing the heads from this horde of monsters that were and were not immortal. The scientist in her longed to get a look at the data on these men… their DNA… She longed to know how this had been accomplished. The immortal in her was sickened. They felt wrong… like something sick and putrid on her senses. She reached deep within her for all the skill she'd ever had on her own… and all the skill of the opponents she'd defeated. She would need everything to face them down. She needed to survive… for John.

-----

When the elevator car returned to the Lobby… Derrick lifted the unconscious Ellie into his arms and stepped aboard along with Meyers, Ryan, and a small party.

"Is this wise?" Meyers said, his brows pursed in worry.

"I need to get her down there," Derrick replied. Inside… he was aware that he'd likely have to use the sword hanging at his side. He shifted Ellie over one shoulder and drew the great sword… flexing it before him.

Ryan smirked. "What is it with these guys and swords?"

"It's the way we live," Derrick said sadly. "It's the way we die." He felt the car descend and flexed the great sword in his hand. Moments later… the car slowed.

"I'll go first!" Burt ordered. "Then my men." He eyed the boy levelly. "Send the car back up before you exit."

Derrick nodded.

Burt pulled a machete out. He'd ordered all of his men to wear them… and now he feared they might die unless they understood to use them. The elevator doors opened onto a melee straight out of hell. A head flew into the car and slammed against the rear wall.

"Jesus!" shouted Ryan.

"Shoot and behead anyone who didn't come down on the car!" Burt yelled as he raced to join the fight. Visions of Avril Mishkov danced at the edge of his mind.

-----

Within the office… Claire Romney still sat focused on the computer code. She'd managed to unlock the passenger elevator doors so that entry was now possible. She couldn't save everyone… hell… she couldn't save herself… She wiped the fresh blood dripping from her broken nose from the keyboard and refocused on the data streaming from the one scenario still operating. She didn't need the visual to understand what was happening… she could see it in the code. After all… she'd written much of it. And… there was the backdoor… and the links. She focused on opening them… and releasing her little surprise.

The office door burst open as two combatants slammed into it and then onto the carpeted floor of the office. She glanced up only momentarily as Scott turned to get his broadsword up over his head. The immortal… Duncan MacLeod… she thought… grimly sliced his katana horizontally and pulled back as Scott's head rolled. He eyed Claire. She slowly raised her hands.

Then his eyes saw the body on the floor. A look of recognition crossed his face. "Meaghann?" he murmured quietly. He stared again at Claire, blanching a bit when he realized how badly she, too, had been beaten.

"He killed her because she fought back," Claire managed to slur; aware that her broken jaw was preventing her from saying too much.

"Can you stop this?"

Claire shrugged, ignoring the pain. "I can try." She re-focused on the keyboard aware that MacLeod had left to rejoin the fight. She kept working on the links… aware that she was getting dizzy… aware that black spots were peppering what remained of her vision… aware that the code was becoming a blur.

"I don't have enough time!" she thought as she coughed and blood splattered the monitor and the keyboard. Hurriedly… before the darkness of what was likely her death overwhelmed her… she typed in run and slumped back in the chair… her head lolling… her hands dropping uselessly to her sides. Her last thought was that she hoped it was enough.

-----

Mexico

Matt's explanations had been met with confusion… and occasional hostility. Finally he'd aroused each immortal in the van. "There are mortal authorities outside… be careful what you say… and for God's sake… let's not have any unpleasantness."

Three sets of eyes focused suspiciously on him and on each other.

"You've no clothes and no weapons. Just stay calm for the moment." He climbed out of the truck. Letting out a deep breath… he smiled at Katya. "Didn't I tell you to wait outside?"

She shrugged. "I got tired of waiting. Besides, I wanted to be certain the bodies would still be here when you returned. I had to keep them from destroying the evidence."

Amber jumped down from the other truck. "I wonder where the third truck is?"

Matt shook his head. "Not a clue! I sent Tremain out to scout in the direction I saw that quickening earlier. He was aware that Jade's eyes were red. Matt reached to comfort her… and she leaned against him… sobbing.

Katya looked toward the south. "I only saw one go off… not two."

"If one was dead…" Matt replied grimly, "Would a second go off when they killed him as well? I doubt it."

Behind him… sheet-wrapped immortals began emerging from the trucks and gazing around… blinking in the late afternoon sun. He hoped they remained cognizant of just how public they all were at the moment… and let him do the talking.

-----

Donald Tremain saw the crashed chopper and the injured men. Ordering the bird to be set down in the sandy soil… he exited… with his men… and firmly took control. Within the crashed chopper… the pilot sat strapped and unconscious. About it… five badly hurt men surrendered without a problem. Tremain strode to the other area.

On the ground lay seven dead bodies… most shot multiple times… and one headless body. He knelt at the edge of the blood drying darkly and seeping into the sand. "Headless?" he wondered. Tremain had a feeling far more was going on here than he'd been told.

One of his men shouted as a pile of bodies heaved. Tremain rose… holding up one hand for them to wait. A bloody hand rose from the pile and flinched in the air.

"Get those bodies off of him," snapped Tremain, "We got a live one."

Nearby… another body groaned and shifted in the sand. Tremain yelled for the medic. Moments later he was on the horn back to the other chopper with a call for Agent McCormick. "I've someone here who wants to speak to you, Agent," Tremain snapped and handed the mike to the thin wiry man standing before him.

"Matt?" Jeremy Dexter said. "What kept you?"

Over the horn… Tremain could swear he heard a woman sobbing with relief.