Torn- Misc. Highlander - Chapter 8

"What do you mean you lost him?" Joe Dawson's voice remained strained as he tried to think. He knew from experience that when Duncan McLeod wanted to disappear, he could do just that. Duncan knew as much about the Watchers as the Waters knew about him. If Duncan wished to become invisible and have time alone, he knew how to achieve the feat.

Joe ran his left hand through his salt and pepper hued hair in frustration. "He could vanish for up to a year, damn it," he thought to himself. He lowered his voice and spoke into his mobile phone's mouth piece, "Look again, then go back to Headquarters and file your report."

Not waiting for a reply, he pushed the red "end call" button and stared at the T Mobile start screen. He shook his head and frowned. With all the technology that he held in the palm of his hand, he still could not track down McLeod. A pocket PC/Phone combo full of information, but it was not a tracking device.

The phone began to chirp and the screen flashed a message that read, "A. Pierson". The options 'Answer' and 'Ignore' displayed below the name. Not wanting to talk to Methos, Joe pressed 'Ignore' and sent his caller into voice mail.

Joe climbed into his rental car and spared one last glance up at Duncan's apartment windows. He shook his head and began planning the dreaded conversation he was about to have with Methos. A thought occurred to him the moment he turned the ignition, "Just leave the girl with Methos and quickly go back to Chicago." Knowing the thought to be futal and Methos could find Joe with just one phone call, he wasn't going to leave Methos in the lurch. He was a friend, afterall.

- - - - -

Duncan stared out across the rolling mist. He was unaware of the time, the date, or even the century. He had surrendered to the images of the past. He held mental conversations with old friends long gone. The strongest voice he heard was that of his past closest friend, Darius. Darius had always given the greatest and wisest hope when all else seemed lost. The priest had been one of a kind.

Duncan held to a belief that Kate was somehow still near him. It wasn't a sensation or aura that he recognized when he received a quickening. It wasn't a lingering memory in his mind that left his heart empty. It was almost as if he could reach forward and expect to touch her or he could dial her phone number and hear her on the other end, asking, 'where are you?'

She wouldn't answer though. He felt inside his black trench coat pocket and pulled out the candy apple colored cell phone. It lay quietly in the palm of his hand; he had turned it off after he recovered her personal effects from the police station. The scene of the horrific accident had been contained and Kate's body had been sent to the hospital morgue.

The last time Duncan had seen her was yesterday morning before she has left for the studio and photo shoot. She was in the kitchen; she had burned the eggs and toast. He loved to tease her lack of culinary skills and he lavishly praised her on the things that she exceeded at. They had spent the last eight months constructing and growing on the bonds of love. He was certain that she had forgiven him the past, that fateful night in their marriage bed. They spoke no more of his deception and moved forward.

One day she had been shopping with one of her models when she came upon an ASPCA Alliance Adoption at the Central Park band shell on the Mall. She arrived home with a three month mixed Rottweiler puppy. He was as beautiful as the pure breed and extremely loving. Kate had named him, Connor, for Duncan's clansman and close friend. She had loved the dog like it was her own child.

Duncan smiled with mixed emotions as he watched the dog bounding and leaping, through the trees, on Duncan's 150 acres of tree covered, rolling hills. He had purchased the land and built a three-bedroom cabin in a secluded valley of Wyoming. No one know about this private retreat, not even Joe.

Sitting on a hillside, Duncan could see trees and morning mist for miles. He whistled once and Connor responded with a playful bark and skidded to a halt, just inches away from his master. Duncan caressed his remaining family member, closed his eyes and returned to his silent conversations with his ghosts.

- - - - -

Methos replaced the cordless phone on its base, "Damn it, Joe." He knew what it meant without even talking to Dawson. Duncan was gone. There was only one thing left to do, he had to take Emily some place safe. He turned around and slowly approached the young, vulnerable woman sitting on an outdated plaid sofa. "When is the last time you've taken a vacation?" He asked.

The only part of Emily that moved was her eyes as they followed Methos from across the room to where he sat only an arm's length away from her. Methos made a quick assessment of her items and figured that they would be able to pack her up and moved within 5 hours. Now, he only had to influence her to agree.