Chapter XI: Someone from the Past

Vrej Ratavoussian delivered another failed lash and retreated to catch his breath. He sized up his opponent, this African man that looked so outdated in a dayglow sweater and studded denims, who had dragged him into battle in a park. Too much VH1 for this guy, who reminded him of the clothes shortly successful bands like Wang Chung or The Human League wore. Update, his mind shrieked. This one probably never learned that Michael Hutchence had hung himself, that McCartney was the only Beatle still alive, or even that the King was dead. On second thoughts, Vrej wondered whether his opponent even knew who those people were.

The katana of his opponent carved through his shoulder. Vrej stirred in pure pain as he parried a downward blow aimed at his head. A second attack unbalanced him and made him a vulnerable prey for this man. Indeed, this one must have been buried in a cave to be unaware of the fact that the battles between immortals were not something advisable with the Watchers around. But Vrej himself never listened to advice, otherwise he would have been caught unarmed.

He targeted his axe at the other's groin. He succeeded, but this only meant defeat for him. The axe locked in the other's body, his neck was defenceless against the neat slice that was swinging against his neck, and here he departed to meet Freddie Mercury.

The other immortal ripped off the axe and hurled it against a bush, then regarded with contempt the pitiful head of the bald wiener with those dark glasses. The Quickening began. After four hundred years, he experienced the thrill of proper power, not like those useless henchmen he had beheaded before they could even realise. For the Quickening was the prize after a battle, a trial of the true Prize. And he, Kane, would rule the world with it. As it should have been earlier, had not Nakano locked him in a cave. But first was first: he had to find the Highlander.

------

"I don't believe it!"

Kyra had finally managed to make a home-made antenna - a wire hooked to the TV- tune in a channel. What she had found had stunned her. An immortal getting rid of the cops and the IPS, all by himself. She had summoned the others, including the mortal Paulus. She liked this man named Victor. He was silent, and learned on philosophy and history. Everyone chatted with Victor, even Kell, with whom long theological arguments had taken place. Kyra had found Paulus' knowledge of the past remarkable and thought highly of him. Even though his first name reminded him of another one she had been forced to share a bed with, one whose name gave her the creeps even to mention, dead as that immortal was.

"Who's that one?" Kell asked, idly observing the destructive behaviour, a mug of coffee in his hands.

"That's Kronos." Kenny replied. "Quite a fellow."

"Interesting." Jacob silenced. His eyes remained on the screen, seeing how Kronos rode away. The image blurred and died. But he was not paying heed to it anymore. His eyes had risen to the ceiling, sensing something he had not ever sensed, yet he could recognise perfectly. So could the others.

"Damn!" Connor commented.

"Who would have done it?" Kyra wondered.

"Only someone who doesn't know... or doesn't care." Kell smirked.

"Look, the image is returning." Kenny commented. He pushed a button of the ancient TV - thirty years old, quite a lot for such devices - and a broadcast appeared. The face of a man with dark and long hair, with stubs on his face, framed on the upper right of the screen, gave him the strange knowledge of which the announcement would be.

"The IPS has made an important elimination tonight. An immortal whose name was revealed as Gilbert James was spotted and terminated in Central Park. The Commander of the IPS, Eric Garfield, refused to make any comment..."

"Garfield's in charge?" Connor cracked.

"You know him?" Kell queried curtly.

"Second-rate bad cop. Nothing to worry of."

"Really?" Kell glanced at Kenny. "That's not what we saw."

"What do you mean?" Kyra asked.

"He was rather efficient when it came to shooting down that Irish chap in the bus station. I'd be worried." Kenny explained.

"MacLeod doesn't worry easily. He's been through worse." Katana spoke, a cup of tea in his hands.

"Worse than this?" Victor Paulus wondered what could be worse.

"Yes. Me."

The joke had its effect and everybody loosened up in a wild crack of laughter. Even Jacob Kell joined in his way, grinning while the others guffawed. Katana joined them, though inside he could feel a rising tide of concern growing.

-----

"It was quite a work, honey."

Eric Garfield grinned curtly as his wife Selma as she served some more soup on his dish and on the one of Stella, their twelve-year-old daughter. As the kid ate reluctantly dinner, he fiddled with the spoon, making it turn inside the soup.

"Dad?"

"What, sweetie?"

"What happens?" Garfield stared into his daughter's blue eyes. "You did a good job."

Had he done so? Truth was different from what the news claimed. The IPS had been there, but to clean up the mess. The Watchers had handled this without authorisation. In other states, they were allowed to capture immortals and bring them before a judge. Here, they had to remain at a side and let the IPS get rid of immortals.

So when he and his team arrived at Central Park and found the body of that immortal already headless, it was no wonder that the situation had gone way out of control. He had even been provided a name which he knew was fictitious. Gilbert James... an adaptation of the true name of that immortal, the legendary Gilgamesh.

"Honey?" Selma called from the living room. "John's on the phone."

He numbly stood up, wondering when the phone had rang one, two, maybe three times as usually before she checked the machine which ID'd the caller and picked up the tube.

"Garfield."

"Eric." Stern's voice sounded unnerved. Odd coming from him.

"What is it, John?"

"Got some good news on the greenhouse plans."

OK, Johnny surely thought the phones were bugged, so he was talking in some weird code fashion. The greenhouse was a great reference, for everybody knew they were going to start one when and if they retired. However, they had ceased planning for it when the immortal frenzy began.

"Really? What is it?" he asked, feigning excitement.

"I found a seller. Has a big deposit near the port." Stern now sounded as usual, stiff and calm.

"Great! Wanna go there now?"

"I was going to ask you that." Quit the farce, John. You're talking too nicely and it freaks me out, Garfield thought.

"I'm at the phone booth by your door. Come down."

"Right away."

Garfield hung up, put on his holstered gun and over it a coat, then kissed the girls and left his apartment. Stern had surely found a place where a resistance cell had surely formed. A task nothing easy, but which would not be even half as complicated as convincing the immortals of their good intentions. On his way down, he realised he had not answered Stella's query.

-----

"Sir."

Stefano Zanetti eyed at the guard standing before him, stiff as a stone. He rose from his comfortable seat and glanced at the lovely view of the Brooklyn Bridge before addressing the man.

"What is it?" he asked sharply.

"The two officers are joining."

Zanetti had heard disturbing news regarding two members of the Immortal Prevention Squad being too concerned about the corpses. Neither had seemed pleased when Liam O'Rourke went down. And both were reported to have stayed for a while in the abandoned building where Amy Thomas died aiding Connor MacLeod, their men waiting in the squad van. Never a reckless man, Zanetti had assigned them a twenty-four-hour vigilance - like the old times - on them.

"Good. Prepare a team. There might be immortals and they must all die."

It could be nothing perhaps. Just two cops joining for a beer. But he had to make certain. He could never be too careful.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Vrej Ratavoussian is the immortal that beheaded Danny Cimoli. He never appeared or was mentioned in either Series or films. The only "source" I had was the chaĆ­n fic "Eternity of Darkness" where one of the bright minds involved therein (memory fails...) made him an Elvis impersonator. So I made him a music buff.