Author's note: I've let this story molder so long I'm almost ashamed to post but here's the next chapter hopefully better late than never…
Q Me?
Chapter 9: For me or against me
In spite of the storm clouds gathering between Mac and Methos I chose to head over to AmyZ's early the next morning. I consoled myself with the thought that the Immortals had seemed far more effected by the ambrosia and might not be in the best of shapes this morning anyway. I paused on the way out to take a couple of digital pics of the table. The man (or whatever) might be an arrogant shit but there was nothing wrong with his sense of aesthetics. On the other hand I could have lived without Ahriman's symbol etched in one of my tables. Of course the Firebird cycle that encircled it was really far more impressive and eye catching. I let my fingers rest on the pale blue stylized lightening that formed the decorative border. It was cold, too cold for the temperature of the room. I ran my hand across the rest of the table top. Given that the carving went all the way through the table in places I'd expected a rough surface. It was completely smooth. I lowered myself into one of the chairs so I could be on eye level with the tabletop. There was none of that blob of filler look. I shrugged on the weirdness rict-o-meter inexplicably smooth table tops didn't even rate a blip. On the other hand I didn't particularly want the thing in my bar. I'd arrange at Amy's for someone from HQ to pick it up for the Archives.
Amy was very quiet as I slid the disc from last night into her player. She paused at the end of Ari's first 'historical' song "You can't guess what that is Joe?"
"Haven't a clue."
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."
"The 23rd Psalm?"
"As sung by King David."
"What's the second one?"
"Joe, I haven't even heard it yet." She protested as she hit play.
"The Iliad" Simone exclaimed after all of a stanza.
"Damn that man is paranoid." Marc muttered.
"What?" Amy asked pausing again.
"Paranoid. He's got to be the most paranoid guy I've ever seen in my life. Look, he's clairvoyant, right. MacLeod is too drugged to stand. He knows nobody is going to jump him and he still never turns his back on you. The damn holograms don't even turn their backs. That's paranoid."
The room was silent for the rest of the disc.
"Joe?" I was dreading this question. "What really happened with Ahriman? They were my friends too Joe."
I gave her the semi-abridged version starting with Jason Landry and ending with what Mac and I had believed was the end in Darius' church. Amy was looking none too happy with me.
"Do the lies ever end Joe? I would have thought that after your association with MacLeod was out in the open you'd at least tell the truth. You've obviously spent too much quality time with Methos. I'm sorry Joe but I'm not releasing any more reports to you until I have Tribunal authorization."
"Amy" I sounded whiny even to my own ears "You can't mean that."
"I'm sorry Joe. You're a friend but I can't trust you to not interfere. And this is not the Immortal to piss off. I didn't just see pictures of Rita. Joe I was in that room. I don't want that to happen to anyone else because you can't keep your Oath. I've babysat some the Tribunals kids Joe I don't want them to die because I trusted you with something that you shared with MacLeod."
"So that's it huh? I just go get this thing burned off again?" I thrust my wrist out at her. "Or maybe you'd rather they put a bullet in my head?"
"I didn't say that Joe. You're still welcome here as a guest. You're still welcome at HQ. You can file all the reports you want but I don't want any deaths on my conscience because you couldn't keep your mouth shut."
"If Mac whacks him you won't have to worry about it."
"I'm a Watcher Joe it isn't my job to help Mac 'whack' him. It isn't yours either."
"There are people who Watch Amy and there are people who do." I struggled to my feet and stormed out the door.
Mac was just coming down the ramp when I pulled up.
"What's the matter Joe?"
I stared up at the car ceiling "They revoked my membership card."
"They threw you out?"
"Not entirely" I said grudgingly "I can file all the reports I want and I can still use the company phone but they won't give me access to anyone else's files."
"I'm sorry Joe. It's just one more thing to blame the bastard for."
"Where you heading?"
"To Methos' place. We need to talk. Want to come?"
"It's not locked" Methos called before Mac could even knock. Methos was sitting in that ridiculously high-backed chair of his with the Ivanhoe unsheathed across his lap.
"So you've made up your mind then" Mac said.
"Does it matter what I say?" he asked head down.
Mac was silent.
He raised his head "Does it? Has it ever?"
"I don't want to hurt you Methos."
"That's never stopped you."
"He has to be stopped. There has to be justice."
"He's going to be MacLeod just not by you."
"He's mine" Mac growled.
"And here I thought you knew the difference between vengeance and justice, silly me."
"He's evil."
"Is he, Duncan? He showed us his plans. I don't recall anything dark and depraved."
"He killed Darius."
"He left Darius alone for over fourteen hundred years Mac. Don't you wonder what inspired him to act now?"
"You don't try to understand evil Methos, you just destroy it."
"Apparently I must have missed the Holy Spirit declaring you the Messiah."
"He used me to kill Richie."
"I think you forget, I was there that night and Ari wasn't the one holding the sword."
"We're through" Mac stated.
Methos slipped from the chair to kneel before Mac with the Ivanhoe offered as Mac had once offered the Katana.
"Cut clean"
Mac took several steps back.
"I didn't come here to kill you Methos."
"You didn't go to the track to kill Richie but that's what happened. He won't Challenge you Mac but if you force a fight he'll kill you and then he's sworn to kill me. Given the choice of watching him kill us both I'd rather die first."
"Damn him." I think in all that had happened since Mac had forgotten about the aftermath of his first round with Ari-El. Of course to be fair Mac had been dead at the time and had only heard it second hand.
"Put it away Methos."
"You won't Challenge him?"
"I have to think" was Mac's reply as he turned around. I followed him silently back to the car.
Amanda met us at the quay. She ran to Mac and embraced him.
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not killing him. He may be a wily, sneaking, conniving bastard but I kinda like having him around."
"Yeh, I know what you mean."
"I've got some errands to run, are you going to be O.K.?"
"Go" he kissed her "I'll be fine."
After we watched her slide into the car and pull away Mac asked "Joe, who's Nick Wolfe?"
I sighed "Amanda didn't tell you?"
"I got a little distracted and forgot to ask."
"It's not really my story to tell, Mac."
He nodded "It's OK, Joe."
"Care for a game of chess?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Checkmate" Mac was so distracted that he didn't even acknowledge my victory. I frowned at the pieces "So what are you going to do?"
"That was a good move Joe."
"You'd have seen it coming a mile away if you were paying attention. Speaking of moves?"
Mac's response was to pick up the phone and start dialing.
"Aren't you going to grab the other line Joe?"
I smirked back at him but still picked up the second phone.
"Hello, this is Duncan MacLeod may I please speak with Valeria Samuels."
"One moment"
"Mr. MacLeod, I'm afraid Dr. Montrose isn't available. He was called away on urgent family business. But he did leave you a message. He'll be at St. Agnes pres du Seine at 3PM on Tuesday if you would like to talk."
"Thank you."
"Valeria Samuels?"
"His secretary."
"Don't you mean administrative assistant?"
"Whatever."
"That's Liam's church."
"Liam?"
I made my opening move "He was one of Amanda's students. First Death in 1772 trying to save a young street waif from a bunch of sailors on shore leave, signed up to serve King and Country in 1775, came to the Colonies intending to cover himself in glory. Ended up accidentally shooting a woman in the middle of his first battle. He laid down his sword and took up the clothe. He's been a priest ever since."
Mac countered clearly more focused on the game this time.
"Sounds like a good man."
I made a move and lost a pawn.
"He is damn good man."
"And he sent this Nick Wolfe to Ari-El."
I lost a rook "Guess so" I frowned down at the board "Nick is Amanda's Kate."
Mac winced "She in love with him?"
"He was definitely in love with her. He even tried to take on an Immortal he though took her head."
"He knew?"
"That she was Immortal, yep, that he was not until she shot him. He wasn't real pleased that she didn't ask his permission. Could get very awkward."
"Any more than it already is?"
"Good point"
I took his knight while he distracted by a flashback.
"LeBrun said three Immortal bodyguards, Wolfe, Sharpe, and who else?"
"Don't know and nobody's going to tell me."
"What about Sharpe?"
I shrugged "He's never crossed paths with any of my Assignments. I've played poker with a few guys that were assigned to him but I don't know much. Mostly all I know is that he's a royal pain in the ass to try to Watch. He had one hell of a career with the British Infantry under Wellington during the Peninsular Campaign made his way up from private to major. He had to have still been mortal in 1799 'cause he was sentenced to two thousand lashes for striking an officer, scars still haven't completely faded."
"Two thousand? Who'd he hit, Wellington himself?"
"Hey I'm not the one with perfect recall remember. I just remember reading his war record once probably twenty years ago and being damn impressed. According to Talia's stuff Ari-El took him on as a student in 1814 so I guess his luck ran out sometime between 1800 and 1814."
"From private to major in the British Army?" Mac mused "Not easy Joe. Not without connections and money. He must have been tough, ambitious, and lucky."
I stared at the board before cautiously moving my bishop.
"He's spent a bit of time in British Intelligence. Worked with Bond a fair bit as a double 00 agent."
"Bond? James Bond?"
"Shaken not stirred, is he one of you?"
"Bond? No, why do you ask?"
"He's still on active field duty."
"He'd have to be seventy." Mac looked up in surprise. I took a pawn. As I recall Mac and Bond hadn't exactly been chummy the one time MI6 had matched them up. Bond hadn't appreciated anyone stealing his thunder and Mac hadn't liked the way Bond put the mission ahead of the men. Bond had also come uncomfortably close to discovering Mac's Immortality. He'd also come close to being skewered by Kyler. Come to think of it the only thing that had gone right for Mac on that mission was meeting Tessa.
"Seventy-three, still taking on the most dangerous assignments and doesn't look a day over forty-five. What would you think?"
"I mean it Joe, he is not one of us." His bishop was beginning to annoy me "Could he be a rasha?"
"I don't think so," I replied trying to find a way out the trap I'd walked into "He dropped a satellite dish on Sharpe a few years back when Sharpe was working in the Russian Mafia."
"How'd he go from MI6 to Russian Mafia?"
"Got me, but at one point he was in a fringe group of the IRA, the SAS, MI6, and the Russian Mafia simultaneously."
"Simultaneously? Is he crazy?"
"I doubt it."
Mac sighed "Ari-El."
"More than likely." I took a look at the board I figured Mac had me in three moves. Time for a strategic retreat.
"I'd love to stay Mac but I've got a bar to run."
Mac's grin told me that he knew exactly what I was doing.
"See you later Joe."
I swore I am going to sock the next person that complimented me on that damn table. I'd completely forgotten to arrange to have the blasted thing picked up and now my entire staff was in love with it. You could have knocked me over with a feather when Methos wandered in.
"What'll it be?"
"Just a beer."
"I figured you'd still be licking your wounds."
"I am. But even Immortality is too short to waste brooding."
"And you want to know what Mac's up to – did you really thing I'd tell you?"
"I wouldn't dream of compromising your precious ethics, Dawson."
I'd missed the band's warm up playing chess with Mac and was floored by how much better they sounded.
Damn it all to hell the sound system was still set up in Ari's weird ass style. I don't care how much better it sounds it's going back the old way at the next break.
"Even you say he's different."
Methos picked at the label before answering "He's like an old photograph, Joe, faded. A little older, a little taller, harder, colder but no different in essence."
"Older? Taller? Come on you guys don't change."
Methos shrugged "How old do you think Ari is?"
"Physically? Eighteen maybe twenty."
"He was fifteen Joe and he could and did on occasion pass for a tall twelve. Maybe we age if we have children. I only know he's older and taller. Voice is a touch deeper too."
"Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in" AmyZ said at her cattiest.
"What did I do to you?" Methos snapped back.
"Oh. I don't know how many Chronicles did you alter trying to make yourself look better? And how many did you outright falsify to throw us off your trail?"
"I wouldn't want you to get bored."
"I have something for you Joe."
"I thought you revoked my library card."
"This is from the Tribunal, courtesy of Blade."
"What?"
"The letter will explain Joe." She glared at Methos before stomping out.
Mr. Dawson
I could of course provide you with this myself but I must confess I have grown weary of the Tribunal's subterfuges. By compelling the Tribunal to amass and distribute this information I have involved enough Watchers form all levels to ensure that with minimal encouragement this will be remembered far past the usual five generations. James Horton and Rita Luce were as much as they were perpetrators. These files reveal that the Watcher Tribunal was capable manipulation worthy of Fate and I. It is a great pity Joseph Dawson that in your devotion to your Highlander you have forgotten that your brother-in-law was once a man for whom you would have given your life. And there was a time when he would have been worthy of that sacrifice. It is a greater pity that you never thought to question how he became a fanatical murderer nor did you ever seek for a way to rescue him in anything but body. Unquestioning loyalty is not exclusive to the young. James Horton was once the epitome of what your Highlander would call a 'good' man. Share these pages with the Highlander, he would do well to learn from Horton.
Those who sow to the wind shall reap the whirlwind.
The damn thing was signed with Ahriman's symbol. It was enough to make me want to pitch the entire pile. Methos' eyes swung to the door. Mac froze in the entry before steering Amanda to a booth. She shot Methos an apologetic glance as she slid in opposite Mac. I turned the bar over to Noel, grabbed the stack, and turned my back on Methos.
"What's he doing here Joe?"
I shrugged "It's a public bar, Mac. He's a paying customer" sometimes, I added mentally. Amanda patted the seat beside her and I planted my caboose next to the sexiest cat-burglar on the planet.
"Did they clean out your desk?"
"Nope. Apparently His Imperial Lordship isn't above giving the Tribunal a direct order." I handed Mac the letter.
"So now Horton is a good man?" Mac growled as Amanda prized the letter out of his fist.
"Joe, who did Horton Watch?" was Amanda's response.
"Fethi Zouaoui, Kage, Kurgan, and Blake Wilmington."
Mac blinked "Where they trying to drive him insane?"
I glanced down at the pile of paper in front of me while remembering the bright, eager medical student I'd brought home that my sister had fallen in love with.
"I think that's what this is trying to prove."
I met Mac's eyes "Do you remember that day you confronted me about Horton?" silly question old fool he's Immortal "You said 'You're not stupid, maybe you're just blind.' You were wrong I was stupid and they destroyed him right under my nose." I shoved the pile away from me.
"Have you even read any of this?"
"I don't need to – I was there." And damn it I was fighting tears. I'd never mourned James. I couldn't reconcile the young man who wanted to save the world with the stranger that threw his daughter's fiancée off the balcony and put a gun to my head. So I just forgot about the other one. I was ashamed of myself. Even as I had comforted Lynn and tried to explain to Kathy I was secretly hoping he'd die because it would be so much less messy that way. But James was nothing if not a fighter and he pulled through in spite of getting a belly full of Mac's katana. He'd sworn to me that he was going to go away with Kathy and live quietly. When I found out he'd abandoned my sister and gone after Mac with St. Cloud I'd wanted to kill him with my bare hands.
"You know he used to think very highly of you" Amanda commented as she flipped through the journal she'd flinched from the pile.
"Who?" Mac asked.
"You" she replied handing him the journal.
"Horton was in Cambodia?"
"Watching Kage for six years."
Mac was rapidly paging through the journal and getting progressively more pissed.
"I should have killed him."
I seem to recall making that argument rather forcefully. But then I had centuries of Kage's Chronicle to base my opinion on, Mac had only two brief but memorable encounters.
"I thought you said one Immortal playing God was enough."
Mac snapped the journal shut "Letting Kirin go was the right decision. I believed it then and this won't change it." He set the journal aside and started leafing through another thick file. I knocked back a double and did some brooding of my own while he rooted through the paperwork.
"Joe" he waved a hand in front of my face "Earth to Joe."
The guy had clearly spent too much time with Richie.
"What?"
"Joe take a look at this." He slid a list in front of me "The top of the list are the Watchers Shapiro tried to hold you accountable for, the middle are the ones that Jacob killed when he shot you, the bottom are the ones Jacob killed right before you gave him to Shapiro." Our friendship had survived that one but it was still a sore subject. I took the list glumly.
"Hey! A dozen of these are Horton's Hunters and Kallas killed Vemus, Roger, and Don" I protested "Jack knew I didn't have a damn thing to do with them."
"Joe just take a look at the ones marked as Jacob's kills and then look at the names in that file."
Holy Mother of God, what kind of fool keeps this kind of paper trail? I needed another drink and a shower. Men I'd joked with, thought I was friends with, and played poker with had been planning a genocide. Except they didn't want to get their own hands dirty. Fucking Pharisees. So Jack's father with Jack's help had picked two dozen decent, honorable, loyal men and intentionally broken them. Their dossiers were here, all had military experience of some kind, sharpshooters, surveillance experts, and James tagged for leadership, communication, and medical skills in the 'Western Theater'. They'd Assigned them to the worst Immortal scum not once but time after time while making sure that the other Immortals were cast in the worst possible light. Then there were the long 'casual' chats about the Prize and what it would mean for mankind. And finally there were the psych evals. One for public consumption and another 'Eyes Only' for the Tribunal with suggestions to 'further the plan'. Forget the drink I was getting nauseous. Five ended up committing suicide, three were still in asylums, two left the Watchers, and a dozen formed the core of Horton's Hunters. But it was the last memo that got me by the short hairs. The glee the absolute glee between Jack and his father about Blake Wilmington's 'Amusement Park Massacre' and its effect on James. Blake had been James' 'good' Immortal. His reward for doing such a good job with the three psycho bastards he'd been Assigned to previously. A chance to settle down and be a real husband and father, do the dad thing, coach Lynn's Little League team. Except the Tribunal had withheld parts of Blake's Chronicle and left out the fact that he was a ticking time bomb. He'd sail along for two and a half maybe three decades as a picture perfect nice guy. Helped little old ladies across the street, gave to the local charities, served Thanksgiving dinner in soup kitchens and was a general all round Boy Scout. But then he'd snap. Even with centuries of Records no one knew what the trigger was but according to this you could damn near set your watch by him. Poor James. Two years of Watching Fethi build bombs to blow up school kids, six years of Watching Kage's drug traffic kill teens here and whole villages in Cambodia, then four years with the Kurgan and he finally gets a 'break' only to end up wounded and trapped listening to his Assignment slaughter a dozen kids and their families. Dr. Abrams had sworn to my face that James was fine, that 'he had an amazingly resilient psyche and that while a little shaken he'd be fine'. It was bullshit. I'd known it was bullshit when he said it. Hell I'd never trusted the shrinks after 'Nam but who was I argue with them? His friend and his brother my conscience whispered. I remembered when he'd come back from Cambodia, you could see something eating him up but James wasn't a talker. I'd had to get him shit faced drunk before he'd crack. Even then he didn't say much but I thought it had helped. Dr. Abrams had clearly agreed because he'd sent the Tribunal a note to undermine our relationship by any and all means necessary. Lying sons of BITCHES! I wasn't going to cry for James Horton in front of his worst enemy and my entire staff. Was NOT. I'd never realized just how loyal James had been to me. In spite of all their plots all they'd ever managed to do was convince James that I was a naive fool. And James had been determined to keep it that way. He'd worked damn hard to keep me both safe and innocent of what was going on under my nose at least up until the end when he'd started to go further faster than the Tribunal wanted to. Darius' death had been as much a surprise to them as the rest of us. There were a whole flurry of panicky memos wondering if this would bring the wrath of Blade down them and Jack's more level headed memo reminding them that there had been no contact between Rebecca and Blade in over fifty years. There had never before been so long a stretch of silence thus there was every reason to conclude that the Ancient Abomination had met his just fate. There was no one to save the other Abominations now.
And then Mac had neatly derailed their whole program. The memos that followed made my blood run cold as the Tribunal decided that the plan had failed because there were traitors in the ranks. They were afraid of me? Afraid that my popularity in the Watchers coupled with my friendship with Mac would lead to a counter offensive. They'd wanted me both dead and disgraced that's what the trial had really been about. Except somebody had started killing them. I snagged the list Mac had handed me and started cross checking. Well I'll be damned. Jacob had killed them all. All but one – Jack Shapiro and there was only one innocent – David Shapiro. On one hand I was grateful that Jacob's vengeance had never been a random slaughter but a cleverly directed purge. We would never have survived on our own. Even if we had figured out what was going on tradition and the Tribunal were too powerful. One by one the Tribunal would have killed us all and then there would have been a war between the Hunters and the Immortals. On the other hand that cold blooded snake Ari-El had clearly known all about this and had idly watched the Tribunal destroy James, watched as James murdered dozens of his fellow Immortals, and after using Jacob to clean house had let me betray him to Jack. The next memo was fourteen years out of place. To hell with my masculine dignity and Mac's opinion. I put my head down on my arms and wept for James. Amanda wrapped an arm around me and made vague comforting noises. I should cry in front of 'Manda more often. Hey, I'm old not dead!
Mac cleared his throat and offered me a handkerchief "I'm sorry for your loss Joe. I won't apologize for killing him. I can't but I'm sorry that it turned out this way."
"Yeh" I whispered as I stuffed the memos back in the folder and shoved it to the far end of the table. Methos would have appreciated the irony. James was the one that got me Assigned to Mac in the first place. If Dr. Abrams 'Eyes Only' evals were right he'd been on the ragged edge of eating a bullet but he'd seen how disappointed I'd been about getting passed over for the Gaicus Assignment so he'd trade every favor and pulled every string he could find to get me Assigned to the Immortal that he'd been so impressed with in Cambodia. The Tribunal had already been trying to find a way to get James to take the Kurgan Assignment voluntarily – and he'd handed himself to them like a lamb to the slaughter. The price of my Assignment to Mac had been James' to the Kurgan. Just so twenty-nine years later Mac could look down his Highland nose in judgment. All that mattered to Mac was that James killed Darius.
As I flipped open the next folder I immediately recognized Ari's flowing script from the first note.
Dr. Takimoto
For such a time as this I have chosen to arrange for you to become First Tribune. In a few decades the human race will be in the midst of its greatest paroxysm it has yet faced. You will either rise from the ashes and soar to the stars or fall into a darkness from which you will never emerge. Your young hopefuls in the Academy will be witness to it and will need both your strength and your integrity. As the first democratically elected Tribunal in your Organization you have been granted a freedom no Tribunal before you has enjoyed. Like humanity and the Highlander you stand at a crossroads. For four thousand years I have watched the Watchers. In the nearly two thousand years since the last time I purged the Watchers secure in the knowledge of my own survival I have been indulgent. While I have frequently frustrated or thwarted the Tribunal's genocidal plans but I have rarely outright killed. I find that my present uncertain state has been a serious detriment to my patience and I will no longer suffer the Watchers to be a knife at my people's back. Teach them the wisdom you learned at Nathan's knee that allowed you to survive the worst previous Tribunal could inflict upon you with both your honor and your sanity intact because if the genocidal undercurrent in the Watchers persists I will destroy you all. The documents contained herein should provide both ample proof of my motive for a decisive strike against you and my ability to execute it regardless of my own survival. The pieces have already been set in place, for the Watchers it matters not whether I live or die, the only variable is your choice. You have three choices Doctor. Choose wisely.
Live long and prosper.
Ari-El.
Damn, damn, damn, damn.
"Joe what's the matter?" Amanda plucked the letter out of my numb fingers.
"Oh, my. Well." She passed it to Mac. Who read it silently. I saw the next sheet and had to smile.
"You see something amusing in this?"
"No" I tapped another sheet "in this. Watchers that talk to outsiders don't last but people talk and some people talk more than others. Ari specifically requested the worst gossips in the whole Organization to compile this. There isn't a Watcher alive that doesn't know about this by now." You couldn't deny that he was a clever piece of work. And there's more than one way to skin a cat, the wily old snake had just given me an idea. I left the paperwork with Mac and went to rescue Noel at the bar.
I got some odd looks the next day as I wandered the halls of HQ but nobody made an issue of it. I didn't have any trouble finding Brian in the cafeteria - as usual he was at the table everybody else was avoiding. My conscience gave me a jab cause Lord knows I'd be avoiding Brian myself any other time. Well except for poker night the kid had to be the worst poker player I'd ever met in my life. It was like taking candy from a baby.
"This seat taken?"
The kid blinked up owlishly "Um, no, no it's not Mr. Dawson."
I lowered myself into the seat with a sigh "It's Joe."
The kid flushed scarlet. My conscience made another complaint. Methos was right consciences are highly overrated.
"What's he like?"
"Who?"
"Ari-El. Like the guy's old enough to have hunted mammoths, if the math's right."
Was he? I hadn't really thought about it. I'm a historian not an archaeologist once you go back more than a couple thousand years it all just becomes a long time ago. I wonder what mammoth tastes like?
"Proud, superior, and arrogant" was my answer.
The kid looked deflated. Sorry Junior, them's the brakes, I thought.
"I still don't get why you pulled everybody ten years ago when you were after him the first time."
"I case you hadn't noticed" I snapped "people were dying and I didn't even know for certain that the guy was real."
They'd died because of my lies – except ironically they hadn't been lies there really was an Immortal older than Methos hiding behind the Ahriman smoke screen. I didn't make me feel a bit better about their deaths. Brian was pushing his lunch around on his plate. Wonderful, the moment when I most want the kid to talk and I finally find a way to shut him up.
"So how are things around here?"
"The Keepers are pissed as Hell at Research in general and AmyZ in particular."
Now that was news. Not terribly useful to Mac in regards to Ari but damn strange all the same. Why would the Keepers of the Sanctuary be pissed at the Research branch? And why AmyZ of all people? Brian shifted in his chair clearly eager for me to ask those very questions aloud. I didn't disappoint him.
"Cause AmyZ dumped the skeletons out of their closet for a change." I was thrilled even without any idea what Amy had uncovered. Lord knows the Keepers had rubbed Methos being in the Special Chair for Methos Research in Research's face for years and they'd griped about my 'irregular relationship' with Mac to Field. Having some dirt on them would feel damn good.
"Not all of the Sanctuary's Sleepers were volunteers."
This was not exactly a news flash to me given that the Keepers had kidnapped Mac for the Sanctuary back during the Kell fiasco but I couldn't exactly make an issue of it given that Methos had killed three of them retrieving Mac and his katana and I'd killed another later.
"And" Brian continued through my woolgathering "The Keepers were straight up warned that they were moving the Sanctuary off Holy Ground, told in no uncertain terms that they were risking their own lives and the Quickenings of the Sleepers."
Now that was interesting info. The slaughter Kell wrecked on the Sanctuary had shaken the Watchers to the core. It had had little effect on the Immortals since only Methos, Mac, and Kate knew about it but it had thrown us for a tail spin. It had also been the fodder for no few arguments between Mac, Methos, and I with Methos insisting that the Holy Ground Rule had real consequences. Neither Mac nor I really wanted the rule to be so much empty tradition but the evidence had sure pointed that way especially when Methos couldn't really back up his stance with a good definition of Holy Ground. Damn, yet another question for the Most Annoying Ancient One, provided of course that Mac invited me along though I was pretty sure he planned on it. I got the feeling he wanted another set of eyes and ears as a sounding board and he didn't trust Methos.
"The Sleepers that didn't volunteer were delivered to the Sanctuary by Blade"
The kid suddenly had my undivided attention.
"most with a dagger in their chest and instructions on how long they're to be kept."
"Most with a dagger in the chest?"
"Your friend Methos is the exception. He gets his in the back."
I just blinked at the kid – Methos in the Sanctuary?
"As far as Amy's been able to figure it he's done at least three jags including right after Ryan was killed."
Well that explained both where he'd been and why he didn't remember.
"But that isn't the only place he's shown up with one of Blade's daggers in the back" the kid paused almost squirming.
"Where else has he turned up?"
"At Darius' church in 879."
Now that was a show stopper – Ari-El sent Methos to Darius?
"Apparently the Real Old Guy was doing his level best to get himself killed."
Brian's eyes suddenly went round as someone cleared their throat behind us. Damn, busted with the baby's candy.
AmyZ was looking less than pleased with me.
"Joe, we need to talk."
"Have a seat" I offered – bad move. The hole I was already in just got a whole lot deeper. I nodded to Brian and followed AmyZ out of the cafeteria. She rounded on me once we were in the hall.
"That was dirty pool in there Dawson. Every time I think my opinion of you can't drop any further you manage to find a new low."
"Amy I asked the kid a couple of questions, where's the harm in that?"
I swear she stuck her index finger through my chest "You know how impressed some of these kids are with the fact that you talk to Immortals and I don't like you trading on that to use them."
"My sitting at his table was the most excitement that kid's probably had in weeks. Face it Amy he's never going to get a Field slot if he lives to be a hundred. He's gonna spend his whole life on the bottom rung of Research. He's nobody, going nowhere."
Amy looked like she wanted to slap me and maybe I deserved it. Damn but this was the second time I'd put my foot in my mouth this week. It was one thing to sympathize – oh hell no sense lying to oneself – agreeing with the opinion of Field that Research was nothing more than a pack of geeks that couldn't cut it. Field had a tendency to think rather less of anyone behind a desk. And the Keepers with their blue bloodlines looked down on everyone else.
Amy swallowed and snapped "I came to tell you you're wanted by the First Tribune. Now."
She was gone before I could think of anything to say, which given my track record lately was probably just as well.
I drew a deep breath before tapping on the door. Dr. Takimoto had his back to me watching the courtyard below. It had been a shock to the entire American and Western European group that when the ballots were all counted we had an Asian Tribune. Admittedly Asian American but somehow in spite of being a third generation American and fourth generation Watcher Takimoto shouted Samurai. For four thousand years the post of First Tribune had been held by a direct descendant of Amu son of Ammelatu. Hell the direct father to son line had only been broken once in 79 AD. As an American I'd always been a little uncomfortable with the fact that the Watchers were in effect a monarchy but the historian had been damn proud of that kind of longevity. It was gone now. Only the Keepers could still boast of descendants of Saka son of Ammelatu. It was damn clear that Ari had smashed the lines of Amu and Tis. The Watchers and the Scholars would never again be led by a son of Ammelatu. I personally didn't know whether to mourn or rejoice. Dr Takimoto finally turned to study me.
"What am I to do with you?"
I figured it was a rhetorical question and leaned on my cane, waiting.
"Right in the middle of yet another mess" Takimoto sighed "Dawson you're incorrigible."
Sister Mary Catherine had said that too.
"Sit down Joe. I'm not going to shoot you in the middle of my office. I just had the carpet cleaned."
That was comforting.
"How much attention did you pay to the Ahriman research?"
I felt my temper flare "That damned monster used the best man I know to kill a friend, I picked over every bit of it looking for a way to destroy him."
"Ah, but did you actually read the material Joe. Because I have and I'm not finding a monster. Not a hero like your Duncan MacLeod but not a monster either."
I snorted "And Set's murder of his brother Osirius was just an off day?"
Takimoto shrugged "The oldest versions do not name Set as Osirus's killer. They do not include Set at all. Less than a year after you pulled everyone off of Ahirman the Tribunal chose to reopen the file."
"You couldn't have, I'd have heard about it."
"Because everyone talks to Joe? You made it very clear that you didn't want to hear anything about Ahriman so no one told you. But allow me to assure you that the work continued."
"You have to know that you're only seeing what he wants you to see" I spat back.
"I am not a fool, Joseph" spoken softly but with steel behind it.
Damn – I think I need my mouth wired shut. Make that three times I put my foot in it.
Takimoto continued "By tracking the Ahriman symbol we found eight caches of Records. Five of which had been lost since the Tribunal fled Babylon over three thousand years ago. Some of these Records actually predate the beginning of the Game, Joe. Including a large number letters between the Ta'am of Elam and what appears to be every hamlet in Northern Africa and Eurasia. Joe some of these letters date back nearly seven thousand years. There are even references to the Great Flood. Some of the material overturns long treasured theories about history."
Takimoto was as excited as I'd ever seen him. Now it made sense. In the last four years I'd had almost a dozen students at the Academy that were good enough to go straight to Field Assignment opt for Research slots. I'd been surprised to say the least. Getting offered a Field Assignment at Graduation had always been considered one hell of a compliment. To turn it down had previously been unheard of. I felt like a fool. How could I have missed that it had become almost prestigious to be a Researcher? I wondered if we'd go back to being Watchers and Scholars instead of Field and Research. I hate PC language.
"Of course we'd been unable to tie the Ta'am of Elam to Ahriman or any other modern Immortal until you gave us the connections to Aganesthes, Ailell, and Talia's files. Amy and her team still have a great deal of work to do but the skeleton of what Ari-El has chose to leave available is beginning to emerge."
"And that is?"
"It is abundantly clear that Ari prefers to be a catalyst of change and that he has a clear purpose and plan for the future of mankind."
Golly-gee-whilikers Batman, do you think so? I thought sarcastically but managed not to say it.
"I won't insult either of us by asking where your loyalty lies. We both know very well that your primary loyalty is to Duncan MacLeod but I need your help Joe."
I frowned at Takimoto surprised.
"Ari-El has offered me three choices, Joe. The first is to leave things as they have apparently been since the death of Bilgames and I have no doubt that Ari will deliver the destruction he has threatened. It is a road of death and dishonor and I will die before I lead us down it. In truth I did not need Ari-El's threat to reject this choice. The second is to restore the Watchers to what they were in the days of Bilgames. When friendship thrived."
Takimoto smiled at my surprise. "It's true Joe. There was a time when Watchers and Immortals were fully aware of each other and many were friends with mutual respect of each others roles and with apparently the full blessing of Blade."
"Then how did it go wrong?"
Takimoto shrugged "We don't know yet. Tea?"
I shook my head – I wanted something stronger than tea.
"But the third choice is by far the most intriguing." He sipped his tea "I think I understand at least the rudiments of what Ari-El intends and I think I agree."
I felt my hands curl into fists "You think you agree with him?"
"I have read every scrap of material Research has been able to translate. For over two thousand years no one seems have been able to do anything but sing his praises."
"Because he deserved them or because they were too frightened to do anything else?"
"That, Joe, is an excellent question. Ari-El doesn't seem to inspire half-measures those who love him paint him as a flawless godling those who hate him color him a ruthless monster."
"And you don't know which he is?"
"I need more information. Can you hold to your Oath?"
"You already know what I think."
"You're a Watcher Joseph Dawson, Observe and Record or leave."
I shift both myself and the conversation, "Who is Nathan?"
Takimoto rose "In 1876 a faction of the Emperor's Council that was eager to modernize collected a number of American 'war heroes' to train the Japanese army in Western combat. Among them was a dissipated 7th Calvary Captain. A good and honorable man driven to alcoholism by the horrors of the Civil War and the Indian Campaigns. He came to Japan seeking death. He was ordered to take his untried, barely trained troops against the Samurai. It was a slaughter. But Nathan himself killed one of the Samurai - my great-great grandfather. The Samurai leader wished to understand his enemy and Nathan was taken prisoner. My great-great grandmother nursed him back to health and he eventually allied himself with the Samurai. He trained with them, fought with them, and ultimately died with them but much to his surprise he did not stay dead. For five generations he watched over my family. A fine man, a fine Immortal." His lips twitched a little at my surprise "He disappeared when I was fifteen. It was my search for him that first brought me to the Watchers. Apparently the Tribunal took one look at my military record and thought I would be a perfect addition to Horton's team. They assigned me the worst Immortal scum they could find but I never forgot Nathan."
I leaned a little forward on my cane to take some of the weight off of my stumps "What happened to him."
He sipped his drink "That is the great irony, I still, after dedicating more than half my life to the Watchers, have no idea what became of Nathan Algren." I lowered my eyes while he wrestled with his grief.
"I could ask" I began.
"As much as I want to know what became of the man I loved as dearly as my father, it is not appropriate. Should I expect regular reports?"
I studied the man in front of me. I knew of Takimoto but we were causal acquaintances, at best, but everything I'd ever heard painted a picture of a man of great integrity. This was the man Ari-El claimed to have put in charge of the Watchers. The man who was asking me to do my job. The only question was could I do my job and NOT feed Mac information?
"You'll get your reports" I promised. Even if I never speak to another Watcher for the rest of my life I added only to myself.
For the next few days every spare moment was spent combing through what I'd gotten from the Watchers before I'd been essentially cut off. As a historian, it was absolutely fascinating but as a friend looking for weakness for Mac to exploit it was damn depressing. As a man it gave me chills – Ari-El was one calculating s.o.b. – not that I hadn't known it before but damn. He wasn't the kind of Immortal that was pure, obvious, cackling mad dictator evil. He didn't slaughter kids or rape women heck he didn't even kick stray dogs. From what I was reading he was polite, even charming. You could even pick out moments in which he seemed damn heroic but those were counterbalanced with times when he let truly terrible acts occur though I couldn't find a single moment when he got his own hands dirty. What's worse sins of commission or omission? For someone like Takimoto who hadn't been personally touched by any of this I could almost see how you could be fooled but for me there was always Richie. I was a Watcher. We weren't supposed to get attached, but I'd loved that boy. Mac was a damn good friend, and a good man, and Ari-El had used him to murder Richie. He was a monster. Period. End of sentence.
The birds were singing, the sun was shining in perfect blue skies, the flowers were blooming, and I was wound tight enough to burst as we approached St. Agnes pres du Seine. At least it was Holy Ground – if either of them lost his (or its as the case may be) temper Mac should still survive.
Mac and Amanda both stiffened immediately and turned.
"Mr. MacLeod" the sandy haired, green eyed thug didn't offer Mac his hand. Richard Sharpe, my mind automatically supplied. In truth any one who could rise to double 00 status in MI6 was a good bit more than a thug but he was with Ari-El and I wasn't feeling charitable.
"And I presume this vision is the exquisite Amanda." Rating hand kissing is a Watcher in-joke because in all honesty only Immortals are any good at it. It's almost a litmus test for Immortality. Sharpe wasn't bad but I've seen better.
Amanda, being Amanda, acted charmed and all but batted her eyes at him "And you are?"
"Richard Sharpe." He fell in with us and I wondered why we needed a military escort at a church. I stopped and leaned on my cane as we came around the corner. Somehow the thought of Ari-El playing basketball would never have occurred to me but there he was with Liam, Nick, and what I suspected were two other Immortals since the faces seemed familiar. The Immortal team was in, not surprisingly, blue and gold. (What was it with the damn color scheme anyway?) playing against some guys I was reasonably certain I'd never seen. Nick scored a point and Sharpe changed places with Ari-El with the look of a man facing a firing squad. The kids watching the game seemed disappointed to see Ari-El leave. If the poor kids only knew what they were cheering for.
"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, Amanda, Mr. Dawson" he acknowledged us and then gestured for us to proceed him.
"What's wrong with right here?" Mac demanded.
Ari-El waved one elegant hand at the trees (damn he had some long fingers. I wondered if they had really been that long before or if he'd intentionally built the new ones that way for some reason) "I find the view offensive."
"You have something against trees?" Amanda asked in confusion.
"On the contrary, I'm quite fond of trees. The misguided soul who pollarded these should be flogged for his crime."
"You'd flog a man over a tree?" Mac asked tightly.
"I seem to recall you beating a carter who was abusing his horses" Ari-El retorted. "Do trees count for less because you can't hear their pain? Your precious humans aren't the only species on this planet, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. They aren't even the only sentient species but they're the only one that mutilates for fashion. I realize you were raised on the 'take dominion over the earth' philosophy but what are you going to do a couple of centuries, if you live that long, when find yourself face to face with a silicate entity every bit as intelligent as you but with a completely different biology and perspective. Will broaden your horizons or will you remain so narrow-minded that you can look through a keyhole with both eyes?" He spun on his heel and led us down the adjoining breezeway. Arrogant bastard. Who the hell did he think he was? I could see Mac wrestling with his own temper.
"If you don't approve then why did you introduce agriculture?"
"Because my choice was either watching most of the human race starve to death in the wake of what Ra did to this planet as his parting love gift or designing crops that eventually led to this." He waved a hand toward the trees. "When I watch what you do to this world and to each other and I truly wonder why I even bother." What the hell did the Egyptian sun god have to do with anything?
"Do you actually expect me to believe after everything you put me through that you're a hero?" Mac scoffed.
"A hero – never. There is but one Fate for heroes, death, and I'm quite fond of living."
"It's pity you don't extend that courtesy to others."
"Now that's an odd comment from a man who has been responsible for more deaths in four hundred years than I've been in four thousand particularly when you consider that every death I've ever caused has saved at least a hundred lives. On average I save 300,000 for every life I end by the same math you will soon be responsible for the deaths of millions. Have a nice day."
Mac's hand passed right through Ari's arm as he whirled away.
"Another hologram. Are you too much of a coward to even face me in the flesh?" Mac mocked.
"Hardly" he spat back "This may come as a surprise to you, Highlander, but the Earth really ISN'T the center of the Universe. There's only one real me, a hologram can speak to you but only in the flesh can I save Vulcan and all its people. Should I allow an entire planet to die just to appease your ego?" He put a rake that had leaning against the wall in the middle of a path.
"Someone is going to trip over that" I commented far more reasonably than I felt.
"Yes they will, and that will save a life." He turned back to Mac. "Did you ever wonder how Ingrid selected her targets?"
Mac put the pieces together a few seconds before I did "She was working for you."
"Yes, she was. She didn't want to kill just anyone. She wanted to know that her assassinations were really making a difference. When you stopped her from killing Wilkinson that night YOU destroyed the last chance to avert the war."
"Then why didn't you stop me?"
"There's only one of me, Highlander. I can only maintain a half-dozen holograms at any given time and quite frankly I had more pressing uses for them. The instant our progenitor was executed we ceased to be omnipotent. So my question for you Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod is are you willing to stop fumbling around blindly in the dark and be the Champion or would you prefer to just keep skipping down the road to Hell?"
Mac's voice was icy "And what do you suggest?"
Ari-El's voice was stretched painfully tight "That I take you as a Student and teach you how to actually use your Quickening."
The basketball game was incongruously loud in the background of Mac, Amanda, and I's stunned silence.
"You can't possibly be serious."
"I truly wish it were a jest, a more pathetic prospect has never stood before me. Like every other Champion before you – you failed. Unlike every other failure I might not have a thousand years to a wait another."
"This is another of your temptations."
"For it to be a temptation it would have to be desirable. You said your life would be a small price to pay for the kind of futures I wove at Mr. Dawson's now I'm asking you to back those words with action. We will see how well you fare trapped in the vice of compassion and competence. If your sanity survives, of course."
"Why Richie?"
"A test which you failed and an object lesson which you have yet to fathom."
"You actually expect me to ally with you after you tricked me into murdering him?"
How can a hologram's teeth grind? "Here's a lesson – sometimes to save lives you have to ally with what you despise to save what you love." The contempt in Ari-El's rich blue fake eyes was a physical presence "I love the Universe's mortal children enough to teach you. Do you love your precious mortals enough to learn from me?" They glared at each other for several breaths "Do you know how many of my Students you've murdered with your self-righteous judgments?"
"Why didn't you stop me before I killed Sean?"
There was real pain in those mechanical eyes. How could mechanical eyes look so real? "Because you wouldn't have been able to undo what Kol'Tek did without his help. Pity that Kol'Tek never listened to me or there wouldn't have ever been a Dark Quickening. It isn't Sean that I blame you for."
"So it was about vengeance?"
"No, never, unlike you I don't kill for the dead, only the living. But if you're that determined that might makes right in two weeks there's a moment when Chance and Fate will render me foresight temporarily blind. It's the closest thing I can offer you to a fair fight. If I win will you submit to my instruction?"
Mac nodded once tersely.
"We'll meet on the 3rd then 8 o'clock at Joe's. You choose the ground for the fight."
"What about Methos?"
"I hold Ad-am blameless since I was the one who issued the" he nearly stumbled over the word "Challenge."
"Anything I learn from you, I'll use later to destroy you."
Ari-El sighed and for a moment looked all of his nearly 10,000 years "You're so damn arrogant. For me or against me. I'd never presume to make you choose. I don't CARE if you like me. This isn't about US, Duncan MacLeod, we just the poor pawns caught in a Game of things older and more powerful. Our progenitor tried to grant the pawns their freedom and died for his presumption. Mary Shelly saw deeper than she ever dreamed." There was a groan from the crowd still watching the game and Ari-El turned to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"Richard Sharpe is a wonderful soldier, a loyal friend, and a thoughtful lover but a basketball player he isn't. And I'd like Liam to win."
There was something in the way that he said it that made Amanda drawn a deep breath and step into his path. "What's going to happen to Liam?"
"He's going to be a hero. He'll save thousands of lives during the war at the cost of his own. You and Mac will be very proud of him. "
"And what will you do?" Mac asked harshly.
"I will mourn him." He slipped away quickly and took Richard Sharpe's place. The kids sounded pretty enthused about that.
Richard Sharpe gave Mac a deadly look and swaggered over to us. "I don't know what your problem is but you harm one hair on that las" he tripped over the word and switched to "lad's head and I'll tear you apart with my bare hands."