Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis/Panzer Productions, I don't own anything, just my original characters.
I was born before 1600 in the Highlands of Scotland, and I am still alive. I am Immortal and I am not alone. For four hundred years, I have fought, loved, wondered, explored and avenged. Now, I have found the woman of my dreams, but we are always in danger. For centuries, I have battled the Dark Immortals, with Holy Ground my only refuge. Soon will be the time of the Gathering, when the stroke of a sword and the fall of a head, will release the power of the Quickening. I am Owen MacLeod, the Highlander. In the end, there can be only one.
(Cue Princes of the Universe)
Starring
Jack Turpin
Kehli O'Byrne
Adrian Paul
Alexandra Vandernoot
Stan Kirsch
(Princes of the Universe ends)
For Evil's Sake
Guest Starring
Peter Howitt as Christoph Kuyler
On the Paris Street, a mime in white face paint and a black outfit entertained a small crowd. He did a handstand and some summersaults, resulting in the people clapping and cheering. A well-dressed gentleman stepped out of the nearby building and the mime followed him, mimicking his actions. The man noticed and played along, before tipping him a few coins. Then the mime pulled out small gun, pointed it him and pulled trigger. But only a red flag popped out that said 'BANG'. The man and the crowd laughed.
Elsewhere at the park, another mime came out from behind a tree and performed acrobatics around a passerby strolling along. Cartwheeling and flipping, the mime went back behind the tree. The passerby shrugged and started walking again, when the mime reappeared, interacting with him briefly. Then the mime pulled out a thin knife and stabbed the passerby in the shoulder, but the blade retracted, revealing the knife was fake. Realizing he was NOT about to be killed, the passerby laughed.
At the Le Rialto café, a couple walked past a third mime that was hand standing.
"Look at this guy," said the dude as they slowed down to watch.
The mime stood back upright, did cartwheels and handsprings down the sidewalk toward the café and got an applause from the patrons. He bowed, then pulled out a pistol and pointed it at an elderly gentleman, suddenly deadly serious. The gentleman got up and backed away from him into the bar as the mime stalked forward. As the man fell down, the mime pulled the trigger. But instead of a bullet, a cigarette lighter flame appeared at the muzzle. The man let out a sigh of relief and the crowd laughed.
Back at the street, the previous gentleman and crowd were still laughing at the 'BANG' flag, when the first mime suddenly went serious and pulled the trigger again, shooting the gentleman between the eyes. The crowd screamed in fright as the first mime quickly scampered off.
Back at the park, the second mime pretended to laugh about the fake knife with the passerby, then we became serious as well and stabbed the passerby again. This time, the blade did not retract and pierced the passerby's heart. He fell to his death on the ground, back first.
Back at the café, the third mime also became serious and fired his pistol again. The elderly gentleman fell back to the ground with a bullet between his eyes, resulting in one of the patrons screaming.
Outside, Duncan was walking past with bags of groceries, when he heard the sounds. He hurried over and arrived just as the third mime ran out of the bar. Duncan threw one of his bags at the mime, buying himself some time to dodge the mime' bullet. He ran as Duncan gave chase, but he jumped onto motorcycle and rode away.
Later, the police arrived, and Duncan gave his description of the attacker.
"Okay... whiteface, six feet tall, weight about one seventy, short hair, brown eyes. Hm," the lead inspector went over his notes. "Is that about all, Mr... MacLeod?"
"I think so," Duncan replied, bending down to pick up his grocery bags.
"Inspector LeBrun," interjected Inspector Sole, "Another homicide was reported. Prosecutor Barret was killed half an hour ago in Marne-La-Vallee."
"The Jihad swore there would be retribution," said a dejected LeBrun.
"Witnesses said the killer was dressed as an acrobat in whiteface."
"Just like the one that killed Judge Belson last night. Hm. Barret lived twenty miles from here. How the hell did the killer make it all the way over here in traffic in twenty minutes?"
Duncan thought back to Baron Deshields death in 1783, recognizing the killer's modus operandi. At the same time, the wife of the dead elderly gentleman was crying over her husband's body as the police carried it away.
"I don't suppose you would be able to recognize him if you saw him again," Lebrun turned to Duncan.
"I might," replied the Highlander.
"How could you?" Sole asked. "He was in whiteface."
"By the color of his eyes, the shape of his nose, his face structure."
"You're a very observant man," added LeBrun.
"Thank you."
LeBrun took out a cigarette.
"Do you have a match?" he asked.
"No, I don't smoke," answered Duncan.
He knew Owen would have lit the cigarette if he was there. Lebrun hesitated before speaking again.
"Have we ever met?"
"I don't think so."
"I think we have."
"I only just recently returned to Paris."
"Okay. We have your address if we need you."
"Well, I hope you catch him."
"We will."
Duncan departed, while Lebrun watched with suspicion. Sole moved to stand next to him.
"Do you have a match?" LeBrun asked.
"No, Inspector, I don't smoke," replied Sole.
That night at the barge on the quay, Duncan told Owen, Lynn and Tessa about what he witnessed as they were tidying up around the barge.
"Christoph Kuyler?" asked Owen. "The Immortal mime?"
"The one and only," Duncan replied.
"I thought mimes were a modern-day thing," interjected Lynn.
"The mimes originated in Ancient Greece back in fifth century BC. 1783 is a perfectly normal time for a mime to be around in."
Tessa spoke next, trying to change the subject and bring everyone to ease.
"The Bureau of Arts hired me because they think I'm an expert on sculpture," she said.
"You are," Duncan replied, carrying a cutting board out of the galley.
"The only thing I feel expert in is knowing how little I really know."
"Well, then you're on the true path to wisdom."
He scraped sone food off the cutting board. Tessa noticed Duncan's mind was not off the ordeal.
"The man you saw wasn't an Immortal, so why do you think Kuyler was involved?"
"Maybe he has henchmen," suggested Owen.
"Whatever the case is, it has to be him," Duncan insisted. "It's his pattern. He hides behind costumes and makeup."
"But why go through all the trouble with theatrics just to kill?" asked Lynn.
"Because when people see an acrobat or a clown, they laugh, they relax, they lower their guard. What better time to kill?"
"You've met him before," said Tessa.
"He killed a good friend."
"If he knew you were here, would he-"
"Tessa, he's not going to challenge me. He's an assassin, not a warrior. He kills when least expected. And he prefers his victims unarmed."
He hugged Tessa, while Owen seemed serious.
"Then YOU'LL have to challenge HIM," he said.
"When we left the states, I had this fantasy that somehow the Gathering wouldn't find us," said Tessa sadly.
"But it did," Lynn added.
"I know, it's everywhere. I just wish-"
"Tessa, he doesn't know where I am," insisted Duncan. "There's no reason for him to know."
"I'll keep my eyes peeled," Owen promised.
Just then, Richie entered the barge, carrying a large Napoleon bust.
"What's up, Mac?" he asked cheerfully.
Upon seeing the bust, a loud chuckle escaped from Owen, while Lynn desperately tried not to laugh.
"What is that?!" exclaimed Tessa.
"'What's that?'" echoed Richie. "Tessa, I'm shocked! It's Napoleon."
"You hungry?" Duncan called from behind him.
"Am I? Oh, of course, thank you," replied Richie, turning to Tessa. "You like it? I got it down at the flea market. Had a helluva time with it on the subway."
"Metro," said Owen. "It's called a metro here."
"The metro, right."
"Yeah."
"I knew that."
"Mm-hm."
"What's it for?" Tessa asked.
"It's for you guys," explained Richie. "It's, uh, it's sort of a barge-warming present."
"For us?"
"Yeah. Well, look, I mean, if you don't like it, I..."
"No, no, no! It's very... very..."
"Historical," Duncan finished.
"Historical," said Tessa quickly.
"Thank you," said Richie looking around. "Let me see if I can find a place to put it here... Ah, I'll just, uh, move this thing out of the way here..."
He set bust down and reached for one of Tessa's sculptures on a stand.
"Oh, why don't you leave everything where it is. Just for a while," Tessa suggested.
"Oh. Okay," said Richie. "You want to live with it for a while. I get it. Get a feel for the room. It's okay. I understand."
"I really appreciate the thought," Tessa said, kissing him on the cheek.
"Oh, well, you're very welcome. It's just my way of saying 'Merci beaucoup.' You know, I have a very strange feeling that Paris and I are going to be quite good for each other... if you guys know what I mean. I think it's something about the Parisians, you know? They're so very, very, very... French. It's... it's, uh, they..."
He trailed off while looking out the window.
"They carry automatic weapons."
"What?" asked an alarmed Duncan.
"Mac, get over here. Check this out."
Duncan and Owen came over and looked out the window, seeing a man sneaking around with a machine gun in the dark.
"Fuck," Owen swore. "Call the cops."
"Kuyler?" asked Tessa.
"Who's Kuyler?" Richie chimed in.
"An Immortal who hides behind theatrics instead of fighting," replied Lynn.
Owen came out onto the barge deck and snuck around the side, away from quay. The intruder with the automatic gun creeped toward barge. Springing his trap, Owen grabbed him and strangled him into unconsciousness.
"Now, who the fuck are you?" Owen whispered to himself.
He opened the intruder's jacket, searched through it and found a wallet. Upon opening it, he found a police badge.
"Of course," he said sarcastically.
Then, he heard footsteps approaching and the cocking of a gun. Owen looked up slowly and menacingly and saw LeBrun holding him at gunpoint. Two more policemen ran up and drew their weapons, surrounding Owen.
"A sting," Owen mocked. "The oldest trick in the book."
Duncan came out of the barge and LeBrun turned to look at him.
"I remember you now," he said before looking back at Owen. "And it seems there's two of you now."
"Where's Kuyler?" LeBrun demanded.
"I don't know," replied Duncan.
"But you sure as hell know who he is."
"Well, you told me."
"Don't play games with me. That son-of-a-bitch was responsible for the deaths of three very brave men today."
"Who were they?"
"The men who tried and convicted the terrorists who blew up the café near the Bastille."
"I'm sorry, I can't help you."
"Can't or won't? What are you, MacLeod? Don't tell me an antique dealer. Your son took out one of my best men, and he never saw him coming."
"Don't blame me, I didn't know he was a cop," said an exasperated Owen. "I just saw a guy stalking around my place of residence with a gun. Our girlfriends were scared, so we had to protect them."
"You thought it was Kuyler," LeBrun insisted. "Just like your father did twelve years ago."
"What are you talking about?"
"I was a young cop at the time. Kuyler had just assassinated the president of one of our banks. I'd heard he was hiding out by the Seine."
Duncan thought back to twelve years ago, when he encountered Kuyler at his hideout. Kuyler challenged him, but Duncan, who hadn't brought his sword with him, had to use a metal pipe to defend himself before running off. He passed by LeBrun investigating Kuyler's murder and jumped into a sightseeing boat in the Seine to escape the police. It was when Duncan first met Tessa, who was the guide. Kuyler, however, had escaped again.
"How could I forget a guy who comes crashing through a glass door, rolls over the hood of my car, and disappears," Lebrun continued.
"It wasn't me," insisted Duncan.
"Hey, Inspector," a gendarme interrupted, but LeBrun ignored him.
"What were you doing there?" he demanded, but the gendarme quietly tried again.
"Here's a message for you from the chief."
LeBrun read the note, nodded and motioned for the officers to leave before turning back to the MacLeods.
"Your IDs check out. Fine. But who are you two?"
"We've been through this already," groaned Duncan.
"And we'll go through it again."
"You have our statements and our papers," Owen replied, annoyed. "Either charge us or let us go."
"If I find out that you lied to me about Kuyler, you'll both share a cell with him for the rest of your natural lives."
(Duncan walks back to barge.)
Owen simply chuckled at that threat.
"I've heard that before," he replied, before walking back to barge with Duncan.
"God," mumbled LeBrun in exasperation as he glanced out into the night.
The next day at the barge, Richie was inspecting the Napoleon's bust, turning it to face the room.
"Excellent," he said in mock French accent before switching back to his normal voice. "I think the light looks perfect just like that. What do you think?"
"I think it looks like it looks," answered Tessa.
"Yeah. Looks pretty good."
Just then, Duncan reentered, and Owen got up.
"Any leads?" he asked.
"Darius doesn't know where Kuyler is," answered Duncan.
"Well, maybe he split town after he popped those two guys," suggested Richie.
"I doubt it. No one knows what he looks like except me. He could be standing five feet away from LeBrun and he wouldn't even know he was there."
"What if he knows you're in town?" Lynn asked next.
"He'll have to go after Dad," replied Owen.
"So what are you going to do?" Tessa asked her boyfriend.
"Find him," he replied.
"Right," said Richie sarcastically. "The CIA and the Intergalactic Space Patrol can't find him, but you, Duncan MacLeod, can."
"Uh-huh," replied Duncan as he tossed a phone book to each of everyone.
"What are we looking for?" Richie asked.
"Old liqueur and specialty shops."
"We're catching an alcoholic," said Owen, wiggling his eyebrows in a mischievous way.
"Sounds exciting," Lynn added.
Duncan and Owen exited the metro onto the Paris streets, searching for the correct liqueur shop.
Soon, they reached a liqueur shop entitled, 'Chez BON HOMME, Maison Fondee, En 1641.' Inside, Duncan examined a bottle.
"You have any pre-1940?" he asked Carlo Luchesi, the owner.
"If I did, I would keep it and drink it myself," Carlo replied. "I have Hierbas…"
"No, we'll keep looking. Thank you. Do you have any, uh, any absinthe?"
"It is against the law to sell absinthe.
"Well, uh…" Duncan cleared his throat and pulled out a roll of bills. "To connoisseurs... true men of discretion... such things can be made unimportant."
"I wish I could help you," said Carlo.
"Me, too," replied Duncan, dropping some of the bills on the table.
"Who sent you here?"
"A friend whose tastes I share. A little taller than I am, well-built, short hair."
Then, Carlo came to a decision, opened the cabinet behind him and removed a bottle of absinthe.
"Oh, my friend asked me to make sure that you didn't sell me his," added Duncan.
"Tell him I understand his need," Carlo said. "Tuesday, noon, there'll be another bottle for him. Just like always."
Duncan smiled and took the paper bag containing the absinthe.
"Good," he said. "He'll be very pleased to hear that. Thank you."
Owen smirked to himself as he and Duncan departed. All was going to plan.
Elsewhere, Inspector Sole was at a mannequin warehouse. He wandered through a crowd of mannequins, feeling uneasy.
"Hello?" he called. "Kuyler. Hello?"
Suddenly, a hand raised and pointed a gun at Sole's head.
"That's a good way to get yourself killed, my friend," said the figure."
It was Kuyler, dressed as a mime and posing as a mannequin. He then withdrew the gun and gave Sole a little push before stepping out of the crowd.
"It's not funny," said Sole, rather annoyed.
Kuyler shrugged before turning to his henchmen, Anthony and Marco. They were also dressed as mimes and impersonating mannequins. With the signal, they move from their positions and laughed along with Kuyler.
"I'm sorry, I think it's very funny," laughed the assassin.
"Well, I hate this place!" Sole grumbled. "It makes me feel like I'm walking around the dead."
"Why are you here?"
"There was a witness to the killing at the café."
"So what? All he saw was a man hidden by a mask of makeup."
"Well, the guy swears that he could identify Anthony out of his makeup."
"We have to get rid of him," said Anthony, clearly angry.
"That's not all. LeBrun thinks that he could identify you," he said, pointing at Kuyler.
"Impossible," the assassin replied. "Everybody who knows my face either works for me or they're dead. What was the gentleman's name?"
"MacLeod. Duncan MacLeod. You know him?"
Kulyer's face suddenly became serious. He walked past Sole before glancing off into space.
"Perhaps not everybody who knows my face is dead... yet," he said darkly.
At the dock by the barge, Tessa and Lynn were walking along with the MacLeods. Tessa was in a bind as she led everyone down the steps from the road.
"So, what do I tell Richie?" she asked.
"Well, tell him the truth," teased Duncan. "Tell him you hated the sculpture, and you smashed it into a thousand pieces."
"I did not. It was an accident."
"You mean you didn't hate it?" Lynn asked.
"Of course I hated it! Anybody with any taste would hate it, but "I didn't knock it off the stand on purpose."
"Well, that's not what Freud would say," retorted Owen.
"Yeah, I'm sure the two of you had hours of fascinating conversations."
"Yeah, well, as a matter of fact…" Duncan began, but trailed off as a car pulled up next to them.
"What is it?" asked Tessa.
"LeBrun."
"And I thought Bennett and McFarland were bad," mumbled Owen.
LeBrun got out of his car and walked toward the quartet.
"MacLeods. Misses," he greeted.
"Inspector," Duncan greeted back.
"I've come to see if you've remembered anything about Kuyler."
"No, I'm sorry."
"Me, too. Last night, I spoke with a Sergeant Bennett in the U.S."
Fuck not him again, thought Owen.
"Oh, how is the sergeant?" asked Duncan.
"Still trying to figure out how you and your son turn up in the middle of so much crap," Lebrun answered.
"Well, I'm just lucky, I guess."
Duncan turned slightly, then saw a man on motorcycle riding toward them. Suddenly, the rider pulled out a revolver.
"What the-?!" Owen began, but Lynn pulled him out of range.
"Get down!" yelled Duncan as he pulled Tessa around behind LeBrun's car.
The rider shot at LeBrun and struck him right in the arm, seeing him to the ground. Then the rider raced up steps to the street and disappeared. Duncan rushed to LeBrun's side as Richie emerged from the deck of the barge.
"Give me your hand. Give me your hand," Duncan urged the inspector.
He removed LeBrun's hand from the wound on his arm and replaced it with his own, holding pressure to slow the bleeding.
"Richie! Call an ambulance!" he shouted to the boy.
Richie ran back inside the barge as Duncan, Tessa, Owen and Lynn stayed with Lebrun.
Back at the mannequin warehouse, Kuyler was pouring himself a glass of absinthe that Marco brought to him, while silently berating Anthony for his actions.
"What was I supposed to do?" complained Anthony. "MacLeod could identify me."
"You acted carelessly, without orders," Kuyler replied.
"I thought you'd be happy if I killed him."
"But you didn't kill him. You didn't even kill the cop."
"I will."
"You will do nothing unless I tell you. You made a very serious mistake, Anthony. Now MacLeod knows I'm on to him."
Anthony then made the mistake of getting close to Kuyler and resting his hands on the desk.
"What's the big deal, huh?" he grouched. "The guy's nothing but a bystander. I will get him next time. Poo!"
Kuyler responded by backhanding Anthony in the right of is face. The resulting slap cut Anthony at the right corner of his mouth.
"Am I talking to myself?" chastised Kuyler as Anthony wiped the blood from his mouth. "Which words didn't you understand? I said MacLeod is mine."
"What? Hey, I didn't know you had something going with this guy."
"Well, you know now."
"I'm sorry. Look, Kuyler... you know me. You know I can make it right."
Kuyler reached into his desk drawer containing a Glock 22 firearm and handkerchief. Anthony tensed up at the sight of the gun. Kuyler grabbed the handkerchief and tossed it to him.
"It's okay," said Kuyler. "Forget it."
Then, he picked up the firearm and shot Anthony. Anthony fell backwards to his death, knocking down several mannequins.
"Now it's right," Kuyler finished before chugging down his absinthe.
At a hospital room, the MacLeods were visiting LeBrun, who was stuck in an arm sling.
"They told me you kept me from bleeding to death," LeBrun told Duncan.
"I did what I could," replied Duncan.
"Don't expect any thanks. If you were up front with me about Kuyler, this wouldn't have happened."
"Listen, we didn't come here to argue with you, LeBrun," Owen chastised. "It was Dad's choice to come here to thank you and to tell you we owe you. You saved Tessa and Lynn's lives."
"Not to mention your own."
"If you need anything…" Duncan began, but LeBrun interrupted.
"How about a new arm? The bone in mine is shattered all to hell. You know what you cost me, MacLeod? You cost me my damn career. Cops with a useless arm don't make it up the ladder. It's bad for the photo opportunities. The public likes their commissioners in one piece. It makes them safer knowing the guy in charge can fire a damn gun."
"I'm sorry."
"Yeah, right. Get the hell out of here."
Owen huffed with anger at LeBrun, showing he did not like him either. He turned but Duncan stopped him, closed the door addressed LeBrun.
"One of your men is owned by Kuyler," he said.
"Come again?" asked the inspector.
"You heard him, baldy," snapped Owen.
"You're a liar," Lebrun snapped back. "And watch your tongue."
"Are we? Tell me, how did Kuyler's man know where we lived? Did anyone else but the police know Dad was a witness to the shooting?"
"I don't buy it. You and your father are deep into this, garçon, and you're just trying to cover your own asses."
Duncan spoke before Owen could say anything offensive.
"You've been after Kuyler for years. And why has he always been a step ahead of you?"
"Because people like you don't talk to me."
"You're a good cop, LeBrun. Think about it."
Duncan led Owen out of the room, leaving LeBrun with a lot to think about.
Back at the liqueur shop, Kuyler and Marco showed up and saw Carlo providing a customer with her order. Kuyler sent Marco away and entered.
"Thank you, Madame," said Carlo, happily. "Come and see us again."
"Thank you. Goodbye," she answered.
As customer left, Carlo sat down, but Kuyler walked up to him. He quickly got a bottle of absinthe from the cabinet.
"Glass," requested Kuyler.
"Someone might come in," Carlo objected. "I would rather you didn't drink it…"
Kuyler's eyes widened dangerously, and Carlo produced a glass. Kuyler poured around and chugged it down as Carlo wrapped the bottle for him. Kuyler paid for the bottle and received it.
"I hope your friends were happy with their purchase," said Carlo as Kuyler turned to leave.
Kuyler stopped and turned back.
"What did you say?" he asked, quietly.
"The men you sent here."
"The men I sent here?"
"One said they were your friends."
Suddenly, it dawned on Kuyler.
"Oh, yes. Tall, long dark hair?"
"Yes. That's him," confirmed Carlo.
Kuyler nodded and turned back to the exit, scanning the street. He sensed a buzz and saw Duncan and Owen appeared on the steps of a church across the street. Kuyler exited the store and walked quickly to the church steps, joining the MacLeods.
"How nice to see you, MacLeod," he greeted. "Especially on Holy Ground. We've had so few opportunities to just chat."
"This is not a social visit," replied Duncan.
Kulyer addressed Owen, "And you must be the companion I learned about."
"Owen MacLeod, same clan, different vintage," Owen replied. "Christoph Kuyler, at last."
"Incidentally, I owe you twi an apology," the assassin continued. "Anthony was very sloppy. I killed him for you."
"You're mad, Kuyler," replied Duncan.
"Maybe. Maybe I'm just trying to excel at what I do. Didn't you ever want to be the best at something?"
"Murder means nothing to you?"
"On the contrary, it means everything. I would have thought you'd've understood me better than that. I was never very good at anything else. As a kid there was always someone faster or smarter. Did you know I have a very pleasant singing voice? It's good, but not good enough for grand opera. It's the same with my tumbling."
"So you kill," Owen finished. "And not just for fun."
"We all have to do something," replied Kuyler. "Besides, it pays well and I have expensive habits. Do you know how many mortals I've killed over the years?"
"I'm sure you do," retorted Duncan.
"I've kept a book. Two thousand seven hundred and sixty. Now I don't want you two to think I'm bragging, but I'm the greatest assassin in all of history. Of course, there have been men responsible for more deaths, but none of them killed so many, so close."
"I don't think there're going to be any more entries in your book."
"I think I'll have a few more trophies on the wall before I retire."
"Choose your opponent, now," ordered Owen.
"Don't think so," Kuyler replied, pointing to Marco standing in the street. "You see that man over there? He's got an automatic pistol in his jacket. One word from me and, uh…"
He motioned to a group of children that was nearby.
"You get my point," he finished, noticing the expressions on the MacLeods' faces. "I knew you would."
"I'll find you," Duncan warned as Kuyler started down the steps.
"Correction: I'll find you first," replied Kuyler.
"You will try," Owen retorted before Kuyler walked away.
The MacLeods departed the church as the children were led to the church by their chaperons.
That night at the barge, Duncan and Owen told Tessa and Lynn everything.
"Son of a bitch," Lynn swore.
"I had him," said Duncan. "He stood right next to me... I could have just reached out and…"
"Do you believe his man would have killed those children?" Tessa asked.
"Absolutely."
"Then what other choice did you have?"
"I don't know. Maybe I…"
"Duncan, you may be Immortal, but you're not omnipotent. You couldn't save that Baron; you couldn't save LeBrun's arm. The world is not your responsibility."
"Tessa, Light Immortals have to protect the world from Dark Immortals," interjected Owen. "So yes, it is our responsibility."
"Besides, Kuyler has no remorse whatsoever. He kills just to gratify his own ego. He's still out there. I don't know where to begin to look. But…" Duncan stopped as Tessa took off her coat. "What are you doing?"
"I'll call and cancel the meeting," she replied.
"No. The first presentation to your board is not something you want to cancel."
Duncan sat on the arm of a nearby chair.
"Duncan…" began Tessa.
"Go…" he encouraged. "You have your job to do, and I have mine. This is our life, Tessa. We have to keep living it."
"I know."
Tessa picked up her coat again and kissed him goodbye.
"I won't be late."
"Please hurry back," begged Lynn.
"She will," Owen reassured.
Duncan smiled as he watched her leave, then he slid off the arm of the chair into the seat.
Minute later, a knock was heard at the door. Duncan answered it and found a different inspector.
"Why, Inspector Sole, what can I do for you?" he asked.
"Well, Kuyler's killed again," answered Sole, entering the barge.
"Who was it?"
"The body has not been identified yet. It was found in a warehouse in the garment center."
"Are you sure it was Kuyler?" asked Owen, sitting on the couch with his arm around Lynn.
"Well, Inspector LeBrun is. He wants to see you."
"Oh, how's he feeling?" Duncan asked, taking a drink of wine.
"He checked himself out of the hospital against doctor's orders."
Owen facepalmed, while Lynn patted his back.
"Yeah, some guys are gluttons for punishment," said Duncan. "Well, you know, I'm surprised that LeBrun hasn't caught Kuyler by now, aren't you?"
"He's an elusive bastard, that's for sure," replied Sole.
"Yeah, the way he drinks, you'd think he'd make a mistake by now."
"Or the absinthe would kill him."
At that moment, Sole had given himself away, but Duncan, Owen and Lynn did not let on that they knew.
"Maybe the police should drink a little more," acted Duncan. "Maybe they'd understand him better."
"I think we should go," Sole suggested.
Knowing Kuyler was waiting for him, Duncan agreed.
"Okay. I'll just get my coat."
"Good luck," Owen called as Duncan departed with Sole.
Sole pulled up next to the warehouse and Duncan got out of the car.
"He's in there?" he asked.
"He's waiting for you here," replied Sole.
"Well, you can go now. You've done your master's bidding."
Noticing Sole's look, Duncan gripped the mole's tie.
"It was the absinthe."
"What?"
"Get in there."
Sole slowly got in the car and Duncan shoved the door closed. As Sole drove off, Duncan entered the warehouse.
Inside warehouse, Duncan walked through the crowd of mannequins, knowing that Kuyler was there somewhere. Soon, he felt a buzz, letting him know Kuyler was close. The Highlander strolled through the maze of mannequins, waiting for the assassin to make the first move.
Elsewhere, as Sole's car moved down the Paris Street near warehouse, another car pulled in front of it, blocking its path. LeBrun was in the passenger seat.
"I'll take care of this," he told the driver, before getting out of car and approaching Sole's.
"How are you feeling, Inspector?" Sole asked.
"Lousy. Get out of the car, Sole."
"Something wrong?"
"Just get your ass out of the car and keep your hands where I can see them."
"Sure, Inspector, whatever you say," Sole said as he got out. "What is this all about?
"Where did you take MacLeod?"
"What makes you think I took him anywhere?"
"Because I put a radio transmitter in your damn car, you lying son-of-a-bitch," snapped LeBrun, shoving Sole backwards. "Why did you sell out? Was it only for the money we found in the Swiss account?"
"Inspector, whatever you think... I assure you I can explain everything."
LeBrun smirked sarcastically.
"You're going to do life, Sole. And I'm going to see to it, personally."
Sole suddenly reached for his gun, but LeBrun kicked him in the chin, disarming him.
"Where is MacLeod?" LeBrun demanded, shaking him. "Come on!"
Back at warehouse, Duncan was still walking through the crowd of mannequins. He saw the absinthe on the desk and knew Kuyler had to be close by. Suddenly, a shortsword swung, barely missing Duncan as he avoided it. Kuyler stepped out, in his mime make-up, giving him a slight advantage due to the many white-faced mannequins.
"MacLeod, how good of you to call. So, you did find me briefly," he mocked as Duncan looked around briefly. "Oh, it's just me and you, and there's nowhere to go."
"Get on with it, then," retorted Duncan.
"Oh! Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk. What's the big hurry to die? Eh? You know, I've never told you before, but I missed you all these years."
Kuyler poured a glass of absinthe and held it out Duncan.
"One for the road?" he offered.
Duncan didn't say anything and Kuyler shrugged.
"Hm. I do so hate to drink alone."
He swallowed a mouthful from the glass and set it back down.
"Now I can finish what I started, all those years ago."
"Well, I think things are going to be different this time," Duncan declared.
"Why's that?" Kuyler asked.
"I forgot to mention…" said Duncan, before pulling out his katana, "I brought this."
Kuyler shrugged with amusement on his face.
"And I thought you were just a pretty face," he replied, before he struck again.
Sparks flew as their swords clashed. Then, a thrust from Kuyler caused Duncan to trip over a mannequin and fall down. Kuyler went for Duncan's head, but the Highlander rolled away, causing the assassin to strike off the mannequin's arm. Duncan threw another mannequin at Kuyler, backing him up and allowing Duncan to push him back.
The more skilled Duncan pushed the younger Kuyler back, who even dodged a kill strike that took the head of another mannequin instead. Kuyler threw the headless mannequin and desk at Duncan and fled into the maze. Lifting his blade into a defensive position, Duncan scanned the maze for signs of Kuyler. He heard the sound of someone cartwheeling, leading him to turn and slowly follow the sound.
Suddenly, Kuyler shoved his way past a headless mannequin and attacked again. They exchanged strikes until Duncan swung downwards and freed Kuyler's sword from his grasp. Duncan lifted his blade to Kuyler's neck and forced him to stand up straight. Kuyler glanced at the blade before looking back at the man who beat him. Duncan sarcastically raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to the right, before lifting his sword. Kuyler winced as watched Duncan preform as left to right strike, the last thing he ever saw in his three hundred and fifty-three years.
Lightning crept up from Kuyler's corpse to Duncan and around the mannequins. The room glowed, the ground shook and mannequins exploded as Duncan took Kuyler's Quickening. Bolts flew out of the roof and damaged windows in the room. Luckily, by the time the fury stopped, LeBrun had driven up to the warehouse and jumped out of his car.
"MacLeod!" he called. "MacLeod, you in there? MacLeod!"
As LeBrun entered, Duncan retrieved Kuyler's sword and left before he could be spotted.
Back at the barge, Duncan had cleaned up and was resting in a chair, dressed only in a robe. Just then, there was a knock at the door. He got up and answered it.
"MacLeod," came LeBrun's voice.
"Inspector LeBrun. What are you doing here this evening?" asked Duncan, leading him inside.
"What happened at the garment factory?"
"What garment factory?"
"With Kuyler!"
"Oh, you STILL insist that I know him!"
"Know him?! You decapitated him!"
Duncan made a fake frustrated noise, "And when did I do that?"
"Tonight," replied LeBrun as Tessa, also dressed in a robe, entered with a wine bottle. "Sole took you there on Kuyler's orders."
"Good evening," Tessa greeted, just as Owen walked up, Lynn hiding in the back.
"And why would he want to do something like that?" interjected Owen.
"Because you were right. Kuyler owned him."
"Oh, so Sole's been lying to you all this time."
"Yes."
"But you still believe him about this?" asked Duncan, taking a glass of wine that Tessa poured for him. "Thanks, sweetheart."
"You won't admit to any part of this, will you?"
"How could I?"
"And I guess according to you he's been here all evening," LeBrun spoke to Tessa.
"You wouldn't want me to lie, would you?" asked Tessa.
"I'll show you out, Inspector," offered Duncan, leading LeBrun to the deck.
"I can't prove anything," LeBrun told Duncan, "But we both know what happened."
He exited onto the deck as the MacLeods followed him.
"Goodbye, Inspector," said Duncan.
"Not goodbye," LeBrun replied. "Au revoir. It's my guess I'll be seeing you again."
Owen stood next to Duncan as LeBrun descended from the barge and got into his car. Duncan groaned as LeBrun drove away, then raised his glass in farewell.
"Cheers," he said sarcastically before chugging.
"Don't hear anyone cheering," sassed Owen, taking out a cigarette. "And don't worry, I got a lighter."
Duncan said nothing. He just walked back below deck as Owen lit up.
(Cue Princes of the Universe)
Co-Starring
Hugues LeForestier as Inspector Raymond LeBrun
Vernon Dobtcheff as Carlo Luchesi
Michel Voletti as Baron Deshields
Gerard Touroul as Inspector Sole
Jerome Keen as Anthony
(Princes of the Universe ends)
I did not show Duncan's past encounters with Kuyler because Owen did not show up and they remained the same.
The man who played the henchman Marco was not credited and is unknown. I am also not crediting John Novak. He dubbed over Hugues LeForestier's lines likely because the producers thought Hugues' thick French accent was too hard for American audiences to understand.
While Kuyler is addicted to absinthe, it is actually no more addictive or dangerous than any other high-proof alcohol. The myth that it causes insanity, and death was the product of an early 20th century smear campaign by social conservatives and French vintners. As of 2011 absinthe is legal in many areas where it was once banned, including the United States and France.
Anyway, thanks for reading, please review, your support helps my writing.
R&R, Roland Cain out!