Chapter XVI: Prelude to the End of The Game
Four days later.
The surroundings of the Watchers headquarters were blocked with bars. An important reunion was taking place. A scenario blocked the entrance of the building. Every Watcher had to be there and indeed they were. At least ten thousand people were there, crammed together, waiting for the big show and enjoying the fireworks that lighted the night of New York.
Stefano Zanetti peeked at the flocks of people there and smirked. His plans to take down immortals had gone well. There were still a few out there, but the large bulk of them was history. However, the issue of MacLeod escaping Sanctuary had been bad for his image. Now it was make-up time.
He grasped a microphone and walked on stage. Cheers and chants welcomed him. He waved like a politician amid a whistle-stop tour, hurriedly and hecticly. He placed the mic near his mouth and took a deep breath before speaking.
"Ladies and gentlemen. This night will be remembered as the day when the Watchers made a stand in the name of humans. Tonight, we will bring down the leader of the squad of demons that have harassed our society since the dawn of time." Zanetti paused and motioned at two men off stage. "Tonight, we will take the head of Connor MacLeod!"
The crowd yelped as if Zanetti was some rock star and not a butcher about to take the head of someone. He felt the vampire Lestat, a secret killer worshipped as a god. Two thugs dragged a hand-cuffed Connor, wearing only a holed bloodstained tee shirt and a pair of trousers and bearing distress and tiredness in his face, next to Zanetti. The watcher leader picked a hook that was hanging off a rope clung to the building and inserted it between the chains of the cuffs. He made a sign and the rope pulled, making Connor hang in the air, his arms stretched painfully too much.
Zanetti grinned, looking with his eyes for the small group of loyal people that had helped him get that far. Neither the Spaniard Pablo de la Guarda, nor the Australian Stanley Jones, even less the ruthless lawyer Camille D'Archund were around. Or probably they were out of his range of view. But they would have come and congratulate him. It was something that disturbed him and to his detriment, it was nothing compared to what was beginning to occur.
-----
A large explosion in the middle of the crowd made a chunk of Watchers die, most of which lost limbs before or after perishing. Then two more bombs imploded, behind the crowd, taking more lives. Panic spread and the people tried to make their own way out, careless of their peers.
From the blockage that was behind the headquarters - oddly unguarded - Katana, now wearing a pirate-like eye patch, smirked as he depressed a button and yet another bomb got rid of more Watchers. The orange mass devoured a few people, making them burn badly before shock and horror, if not the fire itself, made them perish. And if some were lucky enough to escape the fire, the scared crowd would step on them on their way out. He picked a walkie-talkie and pushed a button. "Go!"
He dropped the remote, drew out his sword and jumped over the blockage. Following MacLeod's capture, Katana had sent Garfield and his family away, much to the cop's objections. Then he had taken the plans inside the Highlander's cane and learnt who was who. One by one, the immortals located the three helpers of Zanetti, who were foolishly staying in hotels without custody, and killed them. Now only the big shot remained.
-----
Kyra crept on stage and punched away Zanetti. A thug tried to seize her but she avoided and kicked him off stage. He fell over the crowd, which had suppressed their fear upon the events on the scenario. She released Connor and the Highlander fell exhausted over the floor.
"Kell, free him!" she called out. Kell had walked on from the other side and had already his broadsword ready, leering at Connor. Kyra realised that Katana had made a mistake there: what prevented Jacob from taking MacLeod's head now?
"Jacob Kell..." Connor stammered, squinting through his dirty hair. "It's not over..."
"I know that, fool. Just wanted to make you sweat." Kell slammed against the cuffs, which parted instantly. "This is yours." Kell handed Connor his katana, which had been retrieved from inside the building by Kenny.
"MacLeod!" Zanetti barked, firing two rounds at the Highlanders. Connor received none, Kell only one in his shoulder.
"Shut up, asshole!"
A tiny voice whispered from behind as three gunshots pierced Zanetti's shoulder and throat. The watcher leader turned to see Kenny handling the weapon of one of his men, before falling over the rope with the hook, hanging there without moving. Just then a roar of fire expanded. Connor eyed aghast at how many Watchers were dying due to the exploding bombs. Katana joined the group on stage. Kyra regarded him estranged as the others saw the expanding and rising tides of fire.
"If you're here... who's handling the bombs?"
They all sensed the presence again. A brutal power depressing buttons nearby. Katana knew he had had Kenny plant too many bombs. He thought he was being cautious. Instead, he had unleashed a massacre that would harass his conscience for a long time, acts of War or not. He only hoped that time, and Kyra at his side, would help him forget, if they were able to elude their immortal fate. Abruptly, pain struck at his neck--
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"Katana!" Kyra cried deafeningly as he saw how the head of the man she now realised loved fell all of a sudden. Behind him, Zanetti gasped with a machete in his hand and a willed if exhausted grin on his face, after exerting himself so much to decapitate the general.
"Bastard!" Connor punched the Watcher down and began to kick him, speeding up his soon-to-occur death. But the quickening was soaring, expanding, and looking for its next dwelling, him, who was closer than the rest. The Highlander felt the power and knowledge of the general seize him. He levitated as bolts of lightning struck him, feeling a pain and a pleasure he did not want to feel.
Kyra fell on her knees, oblivious to everything, and hid her face in her hands, as forlorn sobs erupted from inside her. With Zanetti gone and the crowd being massacred by the bombs, the Watchers were history. They had won, but she had lost Katana forever. They would never be together again and she discovered that the Prize, the future, being the last one did not matter. All she wanted was to be with him. She raised her head.
"Somebody take my head now!" Kell regarded her estranged as Katana's quickening was over. MacLeod fell to the ground, dim tears rolling from his eyes. "Don't you hear me? Take my head!" she cried hysterically. Connor rose and stared at her, then at Kenny, then at Kell. Neither understood. "I can't be without him. I want my quickening with his... please."
"I won't do it, Kyra." Connor grunted.
"Neither will I." Kenny spat up.
"Kell?" Kyra questioned.
"I won't take your head out of pity. You must learn to endure his loss." Kell lectured.
"NOOOO!" Kyra bellowed, wielding up her broadsword. She would get her quickening to Katana's... or Katana's to hers. "MacLeod, fight me damn you!"
She struck at the Highlander. Connor opposed his blade as he could. Kell and Kenny retreated. Kyra slammed hardly against the katana. She then tried a downward chop that Connor promptly diverted as he delivered a kick in her belly. She stepped back before lunging forward again, slicing successfully MacLeod's left forearm.
"Kyra! You don't want to do this!" Connor tried to calm her down.
"I want to be with him, MacLeod. I don't care about the Prize. I never did! Our quickenings will be one, within you or within me." She hissed before going forward again. Connor dodged the thrust intended at his right side and delivered a strong lash at her armed hand. Her wrist and her hand were torn apart. Kyra shrieked as she eyed the bloody stump. Connor glanced at the hand he had just severed, going redder and redder by the blood that dripped abundantly from the incomplete arm.
"Kyra..." Connor softened. "It's over."
"Do it, Highlander." She cried, not a warrior now but a broken-hearted woman. "Without my hand, my chances are none. Please, send me to him."
Connor's eyes went moist. He raised his sword above his neck and struck without saying anything. Kyra's beautiful face went down with the head, smiling blissfully. The explosions were over, and only death, disguised as bloody corpses and maimed arms and legs, could be seen where the crowd was. Connor regarded Kenny, whose eyes could not endure the tears that were flowing down. Kell had knelt to save a prayer. The quickening seized Connor. A green flash of light possessed him and the energy and knowledge of Kyra gripped him fiercely. Then he felt it and heard someone.
"HIGHLANDER!"
Connor could see a familiar face approaching. Could it be... Kane? He thought he had seen the last of the brutal warrior in Niri, inside the cave of Nakano. But he was back, wearing an all-black jogging suit... and Connor was defenceless, welcoming the quickening of Kyra inside of him, making her and Katana one now and forever.
Kane dashed towards Connor, slamming his katana against the Highlander's neck. It was close, very close. After four hundred years, he would finally take his head...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The title is the name of a Sting "song", featured in "Brand
