This will probably be the last chapter until Monday. The Job Corps center gives us a four day weekend for Thanksgiving. But I wanted to leave you with this meaty little chapter, complete with a battle between alternate Richard and Evil Duncan.

Also, hardcore fans of the series may recognize the line Good Duncan uses while training Devon.

Chapter Eleven

August 12, 2005: Current Timeline

At any given moment a woman could be carrying over several thousand dollars worth of merchandise to her hotel room in New York City. She could move like lightening through her favorite stores, picking items off the rack like a skilled fashion designer, barely even looking at the prices as she swiped her credit card.

Most women who came to New York to shop didn't give much thought to finance charges or overdrawn limits. This was a city where "If you have to ask…" was a rule of life. And if this particular woman obeyed any rules in her thousand years of existence, it was this one she took as pure gospel.

It figured Amanda couldn't be trusted with Macleod's credit card. And ever since the Watchers installed people in the credit card companies, it was growing easier to track him down through his records.

Fortunately, with over thirty years of experience tracking down their kind, Joe was experienced enough to blend into the scenery as he tracked her. He avoided renting a room at the Plaza, preferring instead to make use of the Watchers Headquarters in the country. That way he could be honest in telling his superiors that this was an assignment.

As he made his way for the Plaza, hoping Macleod was there all ready, the familiar retirement bug buzzed in his ear. This last trip to Austria was the most his family had seen of him since the incident with Jacob Kell and the Sanctuary.

Joe sighed. Spend the last of his life with his mortal family or his immortal one. It was a tough choice considering. Was this the reverse of what Duncan felt with Tessa? Or Conner with Rachel? In the thirty years of watching Immortals trying to balance a normal life with the dangers of the Game he figured the answer would come to him. But like so many others the question just stared at him with the intensity of a deer watching the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

Finding Duncan's room number was easy enough. But when he knocked on the door no one answered. Had Amanda left while he was in the elevator? He heard the shower running and figured it would be a while before he saw either of them. He jotted a note down along with his cell pone number in a small notebook kept incase of emergencies and asked one of the maids to leave it on the table inside. Then he went out to find a bar where he could get a cheap cold beer.

It wasn't long before Amanda called to invite him to dinner back at the hotel. She didn't know where Duncan was but she was sure he wouldn't mind running up his bill by ordering room service.

I hope he wasn't too worried about his credit score, he thought.

A few hours later, Duncan still hadn't returned. Amanda was understandably worried.

"New York is like a Mecca for Immortals," she told Joe. "Not even Duncan could hold his own here forever."

"I'm sure he's fine," Joe tried to reassure her. "Do you remember the last place he said he'd be?"

"He was very interested in this bridge in Central Park," Amanda recalled. "We saw two immortals fighting out there and he was concerned that one of them would leave a body behind."

"Yes, he was telling me about a sword he found. I ran it through the archives and came up with Gavin Castleton. His first death was back in 1857, during a gang war in Manhattan. The sword was a gift from his mentor, Sally Mossier."

"She couldn't have taught him too well," Amanda said. "He lost to a junior."

"Actually, I ran the description Mac gave me as well and came up with Devon McMillan. Now Devon's hardly seasoned, but he's been active in the Game since 1974."

Amanda whistled impressively. "Thirty years in the Big Apple. The kid's got some moxie."

"There's more. His watcher hasn't seen him in two days and he hasn't shown up for work either. Now this guy's good at his job and he's on Devon's tail from sunrise to sunset."

"He must not have much of a home life."

"He's new." Joe grinned. "We crack the whip pretty tightly on them."

"So what do we do now?" Amanda asked.

"About the only thing we can do is wait and hope Duncan shows up." Joe didn't like the look she gave him. So he added, "But I suppose I can go check out the park. Maybe it'll turn up some clues."

"I'll order you a burger for when you get back." Amanda said, nodding with approval.

"Make it with no onions please, and order me a beer while you're at it."

Joe made a mental note to repay Duncan himself when the time came.

August 12, 2005 Alternate Timeline

Richard saw Duncan's attack coming a mile away. Nicholas's memories showed him all of Duncan Macleod's favorite moves, his so called "secret weapons" and a few tricks of Nicholas's own.

Duncan charged, his blade ready for the killing blow before the fight began. Richard stepped to the side and met the blade with his own. He used the momentum to swipe and slash across Duncan's side. They circled one another, blades clanging together as the afternoon sun climbed.

Duncan made an attempt to stab. Richard side stepped him and tripped him up. Duncan stumbled but spun around in time to block Richard's killing blow. Richard was still charged with the power of his mentor's quickening and it filled him with an unkind pleasure to see the highlander, wide-eyed with shock that such a young one could outmaneuver him.

"I've never taken a Quickening this powerful," Richard thought out loud. "Not even Mako had this many memories." He stopped to twirl his sword and switch from right to left and back again. "I've never done that before either. It's like having the world's biggest sugar rush, you know?"

Duncan swiped and Richard parried. Richard attacked forcing Duncan to parry, and used the momentum to force the highlander to retreat.

"You're a brat who was given his daddy's shot gun," Duncan taunted. "No more. It's a real pity. Now that Ward's gone I could use a replacement."

"Only one of us is winning that prize," Richard said, with a growl. "And it won't be you."

Duncan laughed.

"You have my ego too. It's really too bad I must kill you now."

Richard and Duncan circled again, struck once, parried once and resumed. Richard stepped back, missing a swipe that would have cut his stomach open and stabbed. Duncan evaded the blade and tried to make a move for the head, only to be blocked and forced back. Richard swiped and Duncan parried, making another attempt on his head. The boy was fast and he put some more space between them to rethink his strategy.

Duncan faked a second attack for his head, causing Richard to defend himself. He then sliced open Richard's left arm, spouting blood everywhere. Richard grabbed his wound, dropping the sword.

"So now you see," Duncan said, preparing to make the blow and relishing the victory. "All of that knowledge accounts for absolutely nothing. But I hope you had fun with it while it lasted."

As Duncan brought the sword down something struck his chest. He stumbled back, tightening his grip. A state trooper approached them and fired again.

Richard fell to his knees, holding his arm and glaring at the Duncan's immobilized body. Could he make the final cut with one good arm? The trooper placed the gun back in its holster and knelt beside Richard.

"Son, let me take a look at that arm."

Richard ignored the trooper and reached for Nicholas' sword.

"Son, son!"

The trooper grabbed Richard's good arm and pushed him on to his back, holding him in place with his foot.

"Just lay still." The trooper said, pulling out his radio. "This is Huxley on Interstate 23, requesting backup. There's been a shootout of some kind. We have men down and one alive and in need of medical attention."

Pinned down and bleeding, Richard was helpless. His wound would heal but then he'd have questions to answer when the coroner arrived. This would be all over the news by the end of the day unless he thought fast.

"I need to puke," he said. He puffed out his cheeks and made a gagging sound.

The trooper quickly took his foot off and helped Richard turn over.

"Take it easy, son," he said, firmly but kindly.

Richard used his good arm and grabbed the gun. The trooper grabbed his wrist and tried to pry it away. Richard rammed his head into the man's face, breaking his nose. He pulled the Velcro top off of the holster and removed the gun, placing it to his forehead.

"No!" The trooper yelled.

The sound was deafening as blood stained the ground again.

Horton sent out a detail to find out what became of the battle. For the first time in his career he was truly puzzled as to how to include this new bit of information in his reports. Certainly the fabric of reality was sacred to the other Watchers. And if he wound up facing a Tribunal the report would, at the very least, prove his innocence by way of insanity.

Out in the fields the good Duncan sparred with the boy. He felt the extra training would prepare him for the battle ahead.

But how does one defeat oneself? Horton pondered, gazing out through the tiny window and watching the highlander and the junior mirroring one another's movements.

"It's too low." Duncan took Devon's arm and raised it, so the blade better protected his neck. "I noticed you did this a lot in your fight with Gavin. He could have had your head a few times were it not for your speed, but that won't always save you. Okay, now parry my blow…good…but your form is weak. I can easily disarm you again like before, remember our first fight?"

"I've never been very muscular."

"You should work on your upper body strength a bit and exercise a more to increase your stamina. Stamina and strength are both important in a fight or you lose your head."

Duncan showed Devon some of the signature moves of many of his former opponents. Horton didn't recognize any of them, but it was possible these Immortals were probably only active in the other reality.

What had Horton's own alternate self done to make this Duncan hate him so? He wondered. Was he to blame for the sins of someone he didn't know? What if this alternate Horton were to stand trial before judge, and it were found that both were just as guilty for the crimes committed by one? Was he, in fact, just as guilty for the actions of this James Horton, who was merely a mirror of his own imperfections?

Horton sighed. Philosophy was for a time and place far from here. Now was a time when things were no longer as simple as stopping one mad man from becoming the last Immortal.

"Improvisation, good," Duncan praised. "But try not to think so much…that's right. Never expose your back to your enemy, always face forward. Take every advantage, never let him see your weakness. If his stomach is exposed, stab, if he stumbles trip him. There are no prizes for coming in second place, anything goes."

"What about when you win?" Devon asked when they lowered their swords. "Jason always taught me it's just as acceptable to let an enemy live."

"That is true," Duncan replied. "Always listen to your brain and to your heart when that time comes. Never let your passion drive you to taking a head, or it will eat away at you for eternity."

"Has that ever happened to you?" Devon asked.

A knock came at the door. Horton didn't get to hear Duncan's response. It was only the first of his regrets that afternoon, but not the worse to come.