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
Amanda Wyss as Randi
(Princes of the Universe ends)
Band of Brothers
Guest Starring
Werner Stocker as Darius
James Horan as Grayson
In a deserted Paris alleyway at night Jean Pierre was running down the street - apparently running from something or someone. Carefully looking both ways to make sure he was alone, he hurried out of the alley and into the open.
Still looking around, Jean Pierre approached the gates of the old St. Joseph's chapel.
"Darius!" he called.
Inside the chapel, Darius heard his name being called, and hurried to the door. He soon spotted Jean Pierre walking backward toward him.
"No! Go back! Go back!" Darius cried, running out of the chapel.
Suddenly, a dagger flew through the air and hit Jean Pierre in the back. In pain, he stumbled toward the chapel.
"Darius... Aah…" was all he could say before he collapsed, dead.
"Dear God, no. Jean Pierre!" wailed Darius, as he removed his hood.
Suddenly, he sensed the buzz of an approaching Immortal. Then, the Immortal appeared out of the shadows, dressed in all grey and a dark blue overcoat.
"It's always awkward when the pupil goes back to visit his old teacher," he said, the light from the lamps reflecting off his fluffy brown hair.
"He was a mortal, Grayson," said Darius. "You didn't have to kill him."
"You planted him in my organization to spy on me," Grayson snapped. "He won't be the last, Old One. I shall hunt down your... protégés, one by one. Until you sicken of it and come out of sanctuary to fight me."
"Will it please you that much to destroy me?"
"Immensely. You could have been one of the greatest rulers in the history of the world. Instead you cower on Holy Ground."
"That was fourteen hundred years ago. But for you, the world hasn't changed."
"Look outside your cloister. What has changed? The means of destruction only. You're a fool."
"Who's next?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to guess. Shouldn't be too hard for a man of your insight into a person's soul."
"It's Paulus, isn't it?"
Instead of replying, Grayson began to walk away.
"Grayson!" Darius shouted as Grayson kept walking," "You believed in me, once!"
"I didn't change. You did," replied Grayson and he walked away.
I have to warn him,thought Darius.
Back at the antique store in Seacouver, Tessa was on the phone with someone.
"Well, I'm really flattered," she said. "I'll give you my answer... as soon as I can. Yes, thank you. Goodbye."
As she hung up, Duncan came in, carrying a very large vase with Richie.
"Put it over here," he said before turning to Tessa. "What was that? Another commission?"
"Nope. That was the Bureau of Arts and Monuments in Paris. I've been selected to curate 'an historical retrospective on sculpture and form'."
"So that means you would, like, sit in a museum all day and 'curate'?" asked Richie.
"Actually, no. It's a traveling exhibition. It'll be on tour."
"So, you'd have to travel with it?" Owen asked.
"No, I wouldn't. But the post is in Paris. That's where the collection will be gathered," replied Tessa.
"It's a hell of a commute," Lynn pointed out.
"It's not a fly-over kind of job... is it?" asked Duncan.
Richie looked between Duncan and Tessa. He saw the look Tessa was giving Duncan and decided to step in.
"Hold it, hold it," he said. "Time out one second here, guys. You're not thinking of closing up the shop here, jamming to old gay Paree, are you? I mean, you guys have got a big investment here... you know, I mean I'm talking about in terms of time and... and effort... in building up a clientele and a reputation. I mean, you guys gotta think of these things, you know. I mean, they take years. It just doesn't happen overnight."
"Dude, you're not helping," replied Owen.
As Duncan continues to look at the two silently, someone knocked on the shop's door.
"I'll get it," Richie called.
"I'm not asking you to do that," Tessa told Duncan.
"I know," he replied.
Richie returned with a JiffyExpress envelope in his hands.
"It's for you, Mac," he said. "It's from... Paris."
He looked at Tessa, only for Duncan to take the bubble-wrapped contents from him.
"You opened it," he teased.
"I'm just doing my job."
Duncan opened the small leather satchel and dumped out a dozen small flat stones, likely pieces of bone, with markings on them.
"Runes. Ancient runes," he pointed out.
"Looks like something out of a pet cemetery," chimed in Richie.
Lynn shuttered when she heard that.
"It's from Grandpa Darius," exclaimed Owen.
"Darius? The priest?" Lynn asked.
"Correct," said Duncan.
"And I take it that... all this makes a whole lot of sense to you two, right?" Richie asked.
"It's written in a language that died almost two thousand years ago. Darius taught it to us. He's almost that old."
"What does it say?" asked Tessa as Duncan arranged the runes on the glass table.
"Someone's paying us a visit."
Duncan turned to the office.
"An Immortal?" asked Tessa.
"Grayson," Duncan answered.
"All right, I'll play. Who's Grayson?" asked Richie.
"He was one of Darius' protégés," Owen replied. "And he wields the rare Kris broadsword. A crooked but powerful blade."
"But he's, like, one of the good guys, right?" the boy asked again before he noticed Duncan had picked up his katana. "Right?"
"No Rich," answered Owen. "He's not."
On Shaman Island, snow had fallen, turning it into a winter wonderland. Richie and Lynn jogged along with the MacLeods down the path to the cabin.
"So, this Grayson guy's got you pretty spooked, huh, guys?" asked Richie, but the MacLeods did not reply. "Hey, that's all right. You don't gotta tell me."
"Richie, this isn't about fear," Duncan replied as they stopped in front of the log cabin. "It's about strategy."
"Strategy."
"Everything has a strategy," Owen explained as he did some leg stretches along with Duncan and Lynn. "All right, you ready to start training?"
"START training?"
"YEAH, baby," said Lynn, eagerly.
Duncan had a large log mounted horizontally, near ground level, so that it spun around in a circle when the ends were pushed. Richie spun the log so Duncan, Owen and Lynn could jump over the ends as they approached them.
"Woo hoo!" whooped Lynn, clearly having fun.
"So what makes this Grayson guy so different from the others?" asked Richie.
"He's fourteen hundred years older than both of us - he's one of the few ancient Immortals left," replied Owen, hopping along. "So he's very powerful."
"He's been a warlord most of that time," Duncan added. "You don't just go up to him with your sword and say 'Ts-ts-ts, en garde, fool'!"
Richie suddenly stopped the log and spun it in the opposite direction, tripping Duncan, while Owen and Lynn did not fall victim.
"Ow!" exclaimed Duncan, nearly falling down.
Owen, Lynn and Richie laughed, and Duncan gave an annoyed smirk.
Later, darkness had full fell upon the world. The quartet were crouched by a small fire in front of cabin. Owen used the flames of the fire to light a cigarette.
"So, why is Grayson so obsessed with Darius?" asked Lynn.
"Darius was once one of the great generals," Duncan explained. "Grayson was his second in command. Fifteen hundred years ago, Darius could have led his armies across Europe and ruled for a thousand years. But he turned his armies back. Grayson felt betrayed and never forgave him. And Darius, ever since, has tried from Holy Ground to be a peace maker."
"Why would he do that?" asked Richie.
"It's only legend."
"The thing about legends is, sometimes they're true," Owen interjected. "Legend has it that Darius killed a holy man at the gates of Paris - the oldest living Immortal at the time. Then suddenly he changed. He turned his back on war."
"You think that this holy guy's Quickening went to Darius and made him good?" asked Richie.
"In a Light Quickening, the energy is so pure and good, that the evil within is all but destroyed."
"Damn," was all Lynn could say.
"Well, does that mean that, like, if a really good Immortal, like, chopped the head off a really bad ancient Immortal that he could... you know?" asked Richie.
"That's a Dark Quickening, but I'll explain that another day," Owen replied. "Right now, we need to focus on Grayson."
Inside the antique store, Tessa was getting ready to close shop and was seeing a customer out.
"Thank you," she called.
"Goodbye," he replied.
As the customer left, Tessa turned and noticed a man in dark blue crouched down looking at an item in the display case.
"Can I help you?" she asked.
"Admiring, only," he replied. "I have two others just like it."
"Really? They were stolen from the Rennes cathedral during the French Revolution. How did you get them?"
"I'm afraid I'm quite a collector of ecclesiastical art. From that period and... others. Souvenirs of my travels."
Suddenly, Tessa realized the man in front of her was in fact Grayson.
"And you collect them because they remind you of Darius? And how much you hate him?" she demanded.
"Very good," the evil Immortal commended. "I see MacLeod has kept you abreast of many things. I wonder if that's wise."
"It won't work. You can't blackmail Duncan."
"I rather think I can. Perhaps Young MacLeod even more. And now, after seeing you in the flesh, I'm more convinced than ever. You are a remarkable woman, well worth keeping alive."
"If you think either one will stand by and let Victor Paulus be killed, you have misjudged them terribly. So, you'd better kill me now and be done with it."
"Truly remarkable."
The two began to circle each other around a display case of swords. Tessa had her hand on the glass in case she had to go for one.
"Then you'll have to face them," she retorted. "But you know that, don't you? That's why you want to bargain with them using me. You're afraid of the MacLeods."
"You've quite convinced me, Miss Noël. I won't bargain with them. Tell them I'll be in touch."
Grayson turned and exited the shop.
"They'll never know you were here."
"What'd'ya say, Mac, about time we go inside now?" asked Richie.
Duncan smiled, "You can go in if you want."
Then they heard the yowl of a cougar in the distance.
"What was that?" asked a startled Lynn.
"A Cougar. The mountain lion," Owen replied, as the cougar cried again. "Oh, don't worry, they're not on this island."
"Please tell me that they don't swim," begged Richie.
"Actually, they're pretty good swimmers," said Duncan.
"Oh, actually, that's great. Oh boy."
Duncan and Owen laughed, while Lynn still felt uneasy. Richie took out the runes.
"So, Mac, what do these things say exactly? I mean, it's got to be more than just: 'Grayson arrives on the noon stage. Sharpen sword. Darius'," he observed, holding one up. "Here, check that one out."
Duncan looked at it.
"Victor Paulus," he identified. "Darius was his mentor as well."
"Victor Paulus? I've heard of that dude. He's like that guy that, uh, gives all those speeches, leads rallies and stuff, right? Ha ha. He's one of you guys?"
"No, he's one of YOU guys. He doesn't know anything about me or about Immortals. Darius thinks he's in danger."
"Why doesn't he warn him?" asked Lynn.
"He has. But that's not gonna stop Victor Paulus. He's a man with a mission."
"Yes, but so is Grayson," Owen reminded. "And he won't stop until he gets what he wants. So which one of us is he going to go after first?"
"I wish I knew."
Then Duncan noticed Richie staring at him.
"What?"
"Mac, were, uh... were you, uh... did Darius ever change you?"
"Yeah, I guess he did. I was born of a warrior people. When war came, I chose sides like most men. I fought... I killed."
"When Dad took me in," added Owen, "I was raised the same way. There were some enemies I hated with a passion and wanted to kill, but deep down, I worried it would consume me. That's when HE came along."
The MacLeods thought back to 1815's Waterloo.
"Hang on. Hang on," a soldier pleaded while helping his wounded companion.
Duncan was carrying a wounded comrade on his back, while Owen was attempting to nurse some of the wounded of his own. A hooded monk was wandering among the dead and dying, when he sensed a buzz coming from behind him. He turned and saw Duncan. Owen, having turned, got into defense and both reached for their swords.
"I am Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," said Duncan.
"Owen MacLeod, same clan, different vintage," Owen added.
"I am Darius," greeted the monk, before glancing at the swords. "You won't need those."
He walked over to a cover on the battlefield.
"Put him down here. Slowly."
Duncan did so, and Darius examined the wounded man.
"Those whom we cannot heal, we bury to prevent disease. Infection kills more than all the English and French cannons."
"The surgeon said he would die of infection," Duncan said. "To bring him straight here."
"Perhaps I can save him."
"You can? How?" asked Owen.
"Give me that tin cup. And fill it with snow."
Owen found a good pile of snow and filled the cup to the brim.
"Here."
"Hold this," said Darius, before adding powder into the cup. "There are medicines which have been lost to modern doctors.
He then took the cup and had the wounded man drink it.
"Good. Now we wait. It will take hours."
"Hours?" asked Owen.
"Yes."
"Well, how goes the battle?" asked Duncan as he and Owen stood up to look to the distance.
"Why does that matter to you?" Darius asked. "Napoleon may lose a campaign. Wellington may win a great victory. What have they really won or lost? Their reputation? These men have been robbed of their most precious possession... forever."
Duncan and Owen looked around at the dead bodies surrounding them.
"You shouldn't be taking part in this tragedy."
"My son and I were raised as warriors," replied Duncan. "We choose battles we believe to be just."
"Oh, I'm sure. You're quite loyal to your convictions and compatriots. But I wonder what these men think about that... about convictions and compatriotism now?"
Darius slipped his hood on and departed. The MacLeods faced the distance, while the monk's words lingered in their heads.
At Owen's penthouse, Owen was laying his head in his hands while lying in bed, back first. Since he learned Grayson was coming, he was struggling to sleep. He glanced to his right, looking at his Glock 22 firearm on his nightstand. It was his emergency weapon if an Immortal caught him with 'his trousers down.'
He returned his gaze to the ceiling and continued to ponder. Then, he felt Lynn place her hand on his chest, before snuggling against him. The feeling of her nipples on his side allowed Owen to become at ease.
"Go to sleep," she said, softly.
Carefully, she leaned up to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. He felt a daze from the kiss and noticed his vision becoming blurry until he saw darkness.
Back at the antique store, Duncan was having it worse. Tessa tried something similar, but Duncan, unable to sleep, went to the workshop and began practicing kata style with his katana.
"Hope doesn't conquer a superior adversary. So why do I hope to beat Grayson? Why do I think that a good life will protect me from an evil one? What power can I draw from this thing... this hope?"
He finished kata and held the sword point down in front of him, when Tessa came up behind him.
"You still have energy for this?" she teased.
"I couldn't sleep," he answered as he kneeled and began another kata. "I didn't want to wake you."
"The empty bed woke me."
Suddenly Duncan sensed a buzz, stood up, and moves to the door. He opened it, his blade in defense, but he saw nothing.
"What is it?" asked Tessa.
Duncan looked down and saw a small headless model soldier on the doorstep. He reached down and picked it up.
"Message from Grayson," he replied.
"Why didn't he-?"
"He will. When it suits him."
Next day at the helicopter pad near the waterfront, a helicopter flew into view. Randi was broadcasting.
"The helicopter bearing Victor Paulus will be landing momentarily," she announced. "We do hope to get an interview with this dogged crusader, whom some consider the future candidate for the Nobel Peace prize."
Duncan and Owen snuck through a door marked 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' as the helicopter landed. As Paulus climbed out of the helicopter, they pushed their way through the media disguised as helicopter crew members.
"He will be here for a few days before moving on his way to the northeast," said a reporter.
As another reporter spoke, the MacLeods scanned for trouble as a limousine pulled up. The limo driver got out and Duncan noticed him holding a gun. He charged at him while Owen hurried to the shotgun seat.
"Hey!" Randi called, pointing, "Seems to be some kind of trouble going on…"
Her voice was drowned when the gun fired as Duncan shoved the door into him. Someone in the crowd screamed from the sound. Duncan punched the driver and knocked him out. He took the gun off the assassin and urged the security men to help Victor Paulus into the limo.
"Come on, hurry!" urged Owen, as he and Duncan climbed into the limo with Duncan taking the driver's seat.
"Someone has just tried to shoot Victor Paulus," Randi said to the camera. "I'm not sure if he was hit in this attempt, but... we're unaware of his condition at this time. Here they - here they come-
The limo rolled past the reporters and Randi broke off her report when she realized who was driving. Owen looked the obi site direction, while Duncan hid behind his raised hand and drove away quickly. Randi just stared after the car in astonishment.
That evening, the MacLeods put their street clothes back on and returned to the T-bird.
"Ah, there's the old girl," said Owen.
As he opened the shotgun door, Randi popped up from where she had been hiding in the passenger seat.
"Hi," she greeted smugly.
"Now you crossed the line! Get out!"
"Owen don't," said Duncan before turning to her. "Need a ride?"
"Wherever you're going."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, all I have to do is stick with you guys. You'll lead me to a breaking news story."
"I'm just lucky that way."
"Come on, MacLeod. If the FBI and the CIA were half as good as the outfit you work for, I'd sleep better at night. Or maybe I'd stay awake and worry."
"You're the one who thinks my father and I belong to a secret organization," Owen interjected. "Which by the way, is none of your business. GET OUT!"
"That is not a denial," said Randi, getting out of the car. "You guys talk like the White House press secretary. I mean, who are you guys? Just a hint. What, Anti-Terrorist squad... Federal Crime task force... Eagle Scouts? Come on, give."
"How about 'stay out of our lives'?"
"Just some background. I won't blow your cover."
"Even if we did, no one would believe you," Duncan said before Owen could snap again. "Sorry, can't help."
"All right then, who wants Paulus dead? I mean, the guy feeds starving refugee kids. He keeps men with overactive hormones from blowing civilians to bits with mortars."
"Answer that one yourself and you have yourself a story."
"Arms dealers?" Randi scoffed before noticing Duncan's look. "You're serious."
"We have to go."
"Yeah, I know. You have a report to make."
"I sincerely hope I see you again."
"Yeah, right," Randi responded, as the MacLeods got in the T-Bird.
"Well, I don't," said Owen, before Duncan stepped on the gas.
"Hey... Hey, wait a minute!"
"GO FUCK YOURSELF!"
"Like you might not?" she said to herself.
At the penthouse the next day, Owen stood on the balcony while speaking to Lynn.
"You know, I've been thinking," he said. "Tessa should go to Paris... show the Arts and Monuments people she's anxious for the job. It'll also give us an excuse to have our vacation."
"Who says she is?" asked Lynn.
"Well, I am, you are, Dad is."
"But that's not why you want her to leave. And that's also not why you want me to leave."
"Your staying here won't change things."
Lynn turned, her hands on her hips.
"Then I'll stay. This Grayson won't hurt me, will he? Or you would have said something by now."
"No, probably not. It's not in his style. But many Dark Immortals are unpredictable. I don't want to risk it and neither does Dad. Darius will know where to hide you if anything goes wrong."
"You're going to face him, aren't you? Even though he's a thousand years older and more powerful than you."
"I've fought many Immortals that were just as old, like the Kurgan. Some I matched, some I killed. I need to use my wits."
"But if by some miracle he kills one or both of you, what will that prove? Will Victor Paulus be safe then? Will Richie? Will Tessa? Will I?"
"It's what I was born to do. Prevent as much death as I can."
At a military cemetery, Victor Paulus was speaking to a small group of reporters, while Owen stood at a distance with Duncan, listening.
"Someone once said that peace in international affairs is nothing more than a period of cheating," spoke Paulus to the reporters. "Someone once said that peace in international affairs is nothing more than a period of cheating between two periods of fighting. For some nations, peace is simply a time to rebuild armies, stockpile weapons, and plan strategies. For others, sadly, it's a time to do nothing. As we stand here, safe, comfortable, engaging in rational discourse... somewhere, men, women, and children are dying. We cannot be truly at peace when somewhere else there is war, or hunger, or violence. In the face of violence, we must insist on NONviolence…"
As Owen listened, he thought back to the year 1816 when St. Joseph's Chapel was ransacked by three brigands who were looking for valuables in the church.
"Weapons have no dominion over the souls of men, so put your weapons down," Darius told the chief of the brigands. "Put your weapons down. Take what is here and leave."
The Chief threw candlesticks and a cup to the ground.
"These are worthless pewter!" he barked. "Where is your gold?"
"Gold? I have none. Anyone in the quarter would have told you that."
The Chief Brigand motioned with his head to his two cohorts, who departed the chapel. He turned to follow, then whirled around, drawing his rapier sword and stabbed Darius in the side. As Darius crumpled to the floor, the chief exited the chapel. Upon reaching the doors, he saw his cohorts were standing outside them on guard. They were staring down another monk, hooded and standing outside the gate.
"Another priest. We are blessed," said the Chief sarcastically.
"Where is Grandfather?" the monk spoke darkly.
"The priests in this quarter are a surly lot, aren't they, boys?"
The monk threw his hood back, revealing himself as Owen and drew his katana.
"You made a mistake," he growled. "I'm no priest and I'm VERY angry."
"Attack!" the Chief ordered his men.
One of them fired his musket, but he was too close, and Owen knocked it aside with his katana. The brigand tried to strike him with the musket's butt, but Owen ducked and struck him down with a right strike to the back. The other brigand charged at Owen with a spear, but he deflected it and disarmed him by slicing his left arm. He then threw the brigand into the gate, knocking him down. Owen twirled his blade as he stared down the Chief Brigand.
"Fight like a man instead of having your pawns go first," he taunted.
The Chief agreed and engaged Owen, but he effortlessly deflected the two thrusts. The two engaged in a rally of sword slashes and thrusts, with Owen dodging some wild swings. However, he treated it like child's play, while the Chief Brigand struggled against him. Soon, after deflecting nine more attacks, Owen dodged the tenth one and struck the chief down with a powerful right strike. Then, Owen saw the last remaining brigand climbing back to his feet, just as Darius emerged from the chapel. Duncan also showed up.
"Don't kill him! Let him go!" Darius pleaded.
Owen moved to cut the brigand off from escape.
"Leave him!"
Owen stood aside and the brigand, holding his left arm, scooted past him, out the gate and away. Duncan walked up to Owen as Darius hurried over.
"That's a mistake," said Owen. "He'll only kill innocent people who can't rise from the dead."
"Why have you done this?" Darius demanded, looking at the two dead men.
"What else was I supposed to do, Darius? Tell me that."
Owen quieted his voice and made it less harsh.
"I can't be like you. Maybe I'm not old enough or wise enough. I just can't stand by and let…! And let innocent people suffer. It's my destiny to protect the world." "You're leaving me?"
"Yes, we're going to America," Duncan chimed in. "The hatreds just run too deep here. Maybe it'll be different in the New World."
"I would not rob either of you of that hope."
"Glad you understand," said Owen, feeling a little better.
"Good-bye, Darius," Duncan said.
"Good-bye, Duncan MacLeod," said Darius as he clasped hands with Duncan.
He then took Owen's hand and placed a necklace in it. The necklace was that of a bullet.
"This necklace is very special to me," he said. "Take good care of it."
He hugged Owen tight.
"Good-bye, Owen MacLeod."
"Good-bye, Grandfather Darius," Owen replied, whole heartedly.
Duncan and Owen turned and walked away from the chapel.
"Peace be with you," Darius called.
The MacLeods smiled at their surrogate family member and departed.
"Terrible diseases have been conquered because dedicated men went from failure to failure until they succeeded," Paulus continued his speech. "We can... we MUST do no less! For our children."
Just then, thunder sounded in the distance.
"Thank you for coming out in this weather."
Duncan took a step toward the crowd but halted as he felt an Immortal buzz. Owen felt it too. He turned around and saw Grayson arrive behind next to him.
"Inspiring, wasn't it?" he asked. "Oh, but I forgot... you both turned away from Darius' teachings a long time ago."
"That didn't make us his enemies," retorted Duncan. "Just not disciples."
"Grayson," Owen greeted. "Or should I call you, Claudianus?"
"That was a long time ago," replied Grayson, entering the cemetery. "I've wanted to meet you both for so long. But you know how busy one gets. Holy Ground is useful for business discussions. Someone spoiled a very carefully laid little plan, yesterday. It was you, wasn't it?"
"You know, this fellow Scot said something about the plans of mice and men. What do you want, Grayson?"
"An understanding. An understanding that for every action there is an equal and adverse reaction. Should you insist on protecting Darius' star pupil, I might, for example, cease to offer my protection to those around you."
"Protection?" scoffed Owen. "We protect those around us."
"I'm prepared to offer you MacLeods a deal... one that I rarely make."
"Why?" asked Duncan.
"Let's just say I'm a risk manager. Keeping you neutral is simply good business. All you have to do is nothing. Just that... nothing. And I will spare both you and your ladies… for the rest of their natural life."
The MacLeods glared, showing Grayson that he had struck a nerve in their brains.
"Leave them out of this," Owen growled.
"Oh... I see it's true what they say about you both," said Grayson, rather amused. "You have become emotionally entangled with these mortals. Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk."
"Go to hell," Duncan cursed.
"Heh, heh, heh," laughed Grayson. "They also say you're both men of action rather than words. Those were ill chosen, and I'll ignore them. But if you interfere with my plans again, neither one of you nor those you love will ever be safe."
He then walked to his car and got in.
"No one's ever safe, Grayson," retorted Duncan. "Not even you."
"Safe from what?" asked a voice as the car drove away.
Owen turned and got even madder that it was Randi again.
"It's just an observation on the human condition," replied Duncan.
"And I told you to go fuck yourself, but apparently you can't even do that," Owen snapped at Randi. "No wonder you're so miserable."
He then picked up his feet and hurried back to the T-Bird, not wanting to hear one more word from the nosy reporter.
"Grayson?" Randi asked Duncan as she walked with him. "I don't know the name."
"He's not exactly a public figure."
"But if he were an arms merchant, he wouldn't need to be. The counselor behind the curtain. The Invisible Man. I like that. How do you know him? While we're on the subject, how do you know Victor Paulus?"
"We have a friend in common."
Duncan walked away, leaving Randi to ponder on what he said.
At the living room of the loft apartment, Duncan, Tessa and Richie were packing many of their belongings. Owen and Lynn and already packed their own from the penthouse and were helping the others pack.
"This is the last one," Tessa said, pointing to a bag by the door.
"I'll take it out for you," said Richie as he tried to lift the bag. "Whoa! This feels like a permanent move."
"It might be. I don't know."
"For me and Owen, it's just a vacation," Lynn cut in, helping Tessa load her carry-on bag.
"Yeah... well, hey, you know, that's cool. You know, no... roots, no... bonds. No... liabilities."
"Richie…" began Tessa.
"Let me just ask you one question, Tess. Why are you going to Paris now?"
"I will only distract Duncan. He'll think more clearly if I'm not around."
"I'll be doing the same," Lynn added.
"Yeah, well, they should be more worried about you two being alone in Paris with all those French dudes," teased Richie.
"That's why you're going with them," Duncan said, entering the room with Owen and handing Richie a plane ticket. "To protect them from all those 'French dudes'."
"This for me? It's a ticket to Paris."
"Mm-hm."
"Oh man, ha! What can I say?" Richie laughed with excitement, but it turned to worry. "How am I gonna communicate?"
"I don't know, try sign language," suggested Owen.
"Uh... bonjour? Uh, ça va? Merci? Uh... Passez-moi le beurre!"
Duncan chuckled, while Owen and Lynn laughed.
"We'll work on it," said a rather amused Tessa.
"Aw, Mac, thank you."
"Go on, pack."
"Right, right. I gotta pack."
Richie headed toward his room, then turned back
"Um, I'm not gonna have to, like, eat, uh, frogs... or snails... or anything like that, right? I mean…" then he noticed as Duncan, Owen and Lynn trying not to laugh. "No, I'm serious! I mean, at least not right away, right?"
"Pack."
"Right. Right."
Richie scurried to his room, leaving both couples alone.
"I thought he should go with you."
"Yeah," answered Tessa, still busy with her carry-on, despite Lynn's help.
"Don't worry, we'll take you to the airport," Owen reassured.
"No, you're going with them too," replied Duncan. "I'll be taking you to the airport."
Owen could not believe what he just heard. Did Duncan just tell him he did not want his help in stopping the clearly dangerous ancient Immortal?
"But, I thought we were going to do this together," objected Owen.
Duncan sighed, "Lynn, take Owen to the workshop, I'll be in there in a minute."
Lynn nodded, took Owen's hand and led him to the workshop. Duncan and Tessa were now alone.
"If you think I'm going to let you say goodbye to me at the airport, Duncan MacLeod, think again. I'll call a cab," Tessa replied as Duncan approached and hugged her. "When are you facing Grayson?"
"Soon," Duncan replied as he adjusted her jacket.
He turned to go to the workshop, but Tessa pulled him back.
"Remember, Paris is our city. I'll be waiting for you."
The two shared a passionate kiss.
Owen stood in the workshop, not feeling well emotionally. Lynn noticed it and tried to comfort him.
"I need to be here," he insisted. "With me around, there's a higher chance of stopping Grayson and protecting Paulus."
"I thought Immortals could only fight one on one," reminded Lynn.
"That is the rule, but this fight isn't even about the Game, so it doesn't count. Even if it did, I could always be nearby to take Grayson's head while he's down."
"You need to have faith in your father. It's been four hundred years, so you should know your father has a way to win."
"I know, but Grayson is ancient and bread to be a warrior in actual wars, not with clan rivalries. If Grayson takes Dad's head, he'll be even stronger. When an Immortal takes a Quickening, they can access the knowledge and abilities of their deceased opponent. I don't want Dad to take that risk!"
Owen slammed his fist into the wall and glanced out the window, trying to fight the pain. Lynn walked over to him and placed her hand on his cheek, making him face her.
"How old were you when you took your first head?" she asked.
"It was 1632, so I was likely in my forties," replied a confused Owen.
"How old was your opponent?"
"Nerissa? Likely from the B.C.'s."
"And you were an Immortal still new to the Game when you took her head."
"She had me, but I only was able to take her head because she was gloating."
"Well, Grayson might make the same mistake. Or Duncan might find an error in his technique. No matter how old you are, you always have an error in something."
Owen sighed, "Well, maybe you're right."
"Have faith your dad and believe in him. I do."
"What did I do to deserve you?"
"Nothing," teased Lynn, as she kissed him.
That night, Duncan went to a park near the river, where Grayson was waiting for him, smoking a cigarette.
"I know, these things will kill me," he joked.
"I'm ready," replied Duncan, as the warlord turned to face him.
"Where's that 'son' of yours? I assumed he'd want to join the fun."
"He's safe, far from your grasp, Grayson. This battle is between you and me."
"What's the rush? Do you really think there's something waiting for us after this? Darius does. But you're smarter than he is."
"What do you know about me?"
"Oh, I'm quite a student of your exploits... almost a fan. You have immense potential. You may not realize this, but there are few like you left. I've killed so many. Shame to waste you, just yet. Why don't you come and work for me, MacLeod? Oh, not long, only a century or so. We could do so much."
"With the Gathering near at hand, what makes you think any of us have a century left? My son's connection to it's pull keeps me up to date with it."
"Ah. Well, then I promise you this... you and I will be the last two Immortals left on Earth. We can fight it out then, for the ultimate Prize."
"And Victor Paulus will die."
"You don't even know him! Think of what's at stake! Can one stranger be worth such a loss?"
"You're only doing this to hurt Darius."
"Not hurt him... DESTROY him."
"Then why bargain with me?"
"Maybe I like you. Come on, what do you say, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod?" Grayson tempted before turning to a mock Scottish accent. "Have ye no taste for greatness?"
"There can be only one," reminded Duncan, drawing his sword.
Grayson, sighed throwing away the cigarette, "You're a foolish lad."
He unveiled his Kris broadsword and attacked. The two engaged on a duel, but a car's headlights shown on them briefly and it's horn honked.
"Hey, go back! What's that?" came the voice of a teen.
"What's going on over there?" another teen voice was heard.
"You're lucky, as well. You've been reprieved," Grayson said and pulled away.
"Grayson... soon," warned Duncan.
The rivals backed away and departed the park.
Next day in the corridor of the Sterling Hotel, Randi was broadcasting again.
"We're here at the Sterling Hotel, where Victor Paulus is giving his final conference. He's invited a small group of businessmen and politicians where he will be twisting arms and winning over a few stony hearts," she spoke to the camera before turning to interview an arriving dignitary. "Excuse me, sir…"
But she was not aware that a hair braided hoestler walked past her to the conference room.
In the hotel conference room, Grayson sat among the people gathered, when the hoestler approached him and whispered into his ear.
"We've paid one of the security men," he informed. "He'll lead Paulus right to our people."
Grayson nodded silently and the hoestler left the room to watch the show. But as he walked away, Duncan, who was outside the room moved to follow him. But of course, Randi had to interrupt.
"You're here because of this Grayson, aren't you?" she asked.
"If you really care, go back inside," Duncan replied, walking away.
She followed him all the way to the elevator.
"Jaded journalist types don't fall for lines like that."
"Jaded journalist types don't care. I think you do," he roasted, getting into the elevator with the hoestler.
"Don't let first impressions fool you," said Randi as the elevator doors closed, before speaking to herself, "Good luck, MacLeod."
At the basement of the hotel, the elevator doors opened and hoestler fell to the ground as Duncan stepped over him. Then, he saw Paulus being led by two guards at the end of the hallway.
"This way, Mr. Paulus," said one.
Duncan follows Paulus and the guards, at a distance. The second guard halted a laundry man, who waited for Paulus and the first guard to pass, before allowing the laundry man go. The three men continued through the basement maze.
But as they turned a corner into an open area, a man dressed as a hotel worker tackled the first guard to the ground. Then he stabbed the guard in the back with a knife before running away. Another assassin wearing the same outfit came up on Paulus' left, holding a gun. The second guard shrugged and backed up down the hallway they'd just come from, leaving Paulus on his own.
Mere seconds later, he was thrown back out into the open area again and into a hamper. Duncan ran out of the hallway and disarmed the gunman, kicking him in the throat. The first assassin attacked with a knife but Duncan caught his arm, and after taking two punches, knocked him aside with some kicks. A third assassin tried a kick to the head, but Duncan dodged and tripped him before kicking the recovered gunman back. The knifeman attempted to restrain Duncan while the brawler attacked, but Duncan crotch-kicked the brawler, before going for the face. He then slammed the knifeman to the ground and beat him unconscious. He then exchanged physical strikes with the brawler before hitting him in the face and chest, and sending him careening into a pipe, knocking him out.
With the assailants subdued, the shocked Paulus approached Duncan.
"You saved my life again," he said. "Why are you... WHO are you?"
"I'm a friend of Darius," introduced Duncan.
"You didn't learn this from Darius."
"I wasn't much of a student."
Just then, two policemen entered, revolvers drawn.
"Freeze!" one shouted before turning to Paulus. "You okay?"
"I'm all right…" he reassured, "Thanks to this gentleman."
"There's another one in the elevator. Find out who paid them," Duncan informed before departing for the elevator.
"Who was that guy?" the officer asked Paulus.
Back in the hotel conference room, Grayson checked his watch and smiled knowing it was only a matter of time before Paulus was silenced. Randi seemed to notice him in the room a well. Just then, Paulus walked in. And everyone stood and clapped as he walks to the podium.
"Thank you. Thank you. You've no idea how happy I am to be here tonight. Someone once said that peace…"
Grayson got up angrily and stormed to the door, where the usher came up to him.
"Mr. Grayson?" he asked, handing Grayson a piece of paper as he exited the conference room.
"MacLeod," read Grayson.
The message was to meet Duncan at a sulfur mine. Grayson quickly accepted the challenge and prepared to leave, when Randi came out of conference room.
"Mr. Grayson? It is Grayson, isn't it? I saw you talking to MacLeod the other day," she said, holding up a voice recorder. "Any idea who's trying to kill Victor Paulus?"
Grayson simply pushed past her and left, not saying anything.
"Well, excuse me."
Now, between you and me, if Owen saw that, he would have smirked from ear to ear.
It was early evening and raining at the sulfur mine when Grayson arrived, parking next to the T-Bird. He had also switched to a more comfortable outfit for the fight and put his hair in a ponytail. He scurried to the piles of sulfur with his sword drawn.
"MacLeod!" Grayson yelled, his voice traveling down the rows of sulfur piles.
At the other side, Duncan was waiting for him, katana drawn. Grayson walked toward where the Highlander was waiting for him.
"Sulfur. That was the beginning of it. The Chinese used it to amuse. It took someone of vision to see its true use. To create from it... gunpowder. And the world was never the same again."
The rivals began to circle each other as Grayson continued his speech.
"What about you, MacLeod? Ever done anything that really changed the world? Too bad. Now you never will."
Grayson saluted Duncan with his sword and Duncan did the same. Then the sword fight began. The two exchanged jabs and drew the fight to the sulfur piles that were flooding from the rain. As they fought, they jumped to the mine equipment and removed their trench coats. Unfortunately, Grayson soon found an opening and cut Duncan on the bicep of his forearm. Duncan backed up the stairwell behind him, deflecting a few more strikes before climbing to the top.
Upon reaching the top, Grayson pressed his advantage and made Duncan struggle against his strikes. Duncan was running out of stamina due to his wound and Grayson effortlessly dodged any beheading strikes. Soon they locked blades, with Duncan holding onto a bar to keep from struggling. Grayson laughed at his struggles.
"Another century and you might have beaten me," he mocked, before punching Duncan in the face and knocking him onto the conveyor belt.
Duncan hurried up the conveyor belt, but Grayson was on his tail. Soon, he fell, forcing him to turn around and protect his head. However, Grayson broke through the defense and disarmed Duncan, knocking his sword aside. Then, as a form of torture, Grayson struck Duncan across the chest.
"There can be only one!" Grayson declared, raising his sword for the final blow.
But at the last second, Duncan kicked Grayson in the chest, kicking him down, before jumping from the conveyor belt. Grayson jumped after him and they both rolled to bottom of the sulfur pile. Grayson stalked forward as Duncan crawled toward his katana. He soon reached the sword and picked it up, going to his knees, back to Grayson.
Thinking he had won, Grayson swung with all his might, when Duncan suddenly brought his blade up and around, blocking Grayson's strike. Then he spun around and slashed the warlord across the stomach. Blood spewed from the large gash, but Grayson was undeterred. He struck again, only for his strikes to be deflected and his own bicep on his forearm to be slashed open. The two paused for a moment, eying each other with respect and contempt. And then, in a flash, they went at it again. But Grayson was too badly wounded from his new injuries, while Duncan had already started to heal. Finally, with a powerful downward stroke, Duncan knocked Grayson's broadsword to the ground. Now the weakened warlord was completely at his mercy.
"There can be only one," retorted Duncan.
Grayson smirked at Duncan's victory before the Highlander unleashed a battle cry and took the warlord's head in a swift right stroke. Grayson's corpse collapsed to its knees before falling backwards to the ground. The ghostly mist engulfed the sulfur mine completely as Duncan took Grayson's Quickening. He gripped his katana with both hands as the lightning traveled into his body. The lighting even traveled up the equipment, causing sparks and destroying lightbulbs. A surge of energy pushed Duncan slightly, making him release his sword. Soon, the mist and lighting faded, and Duncan fell to his knees as the Quickening ended.
The next day in Paris, Duncan strolled through town toward St. Joseph's Chapel. As he walked toward the chapel, Darius emerged, having felt his presence.
"Duncan. Oh," he said in relief as he ran to his surrogate son and embraced him. "I heard from Victor Paulus. He told me what you've done."
"Yeah, Grayson won't be bothering him anymore," Duncan confirmed.
"He was once my closest friend on Earth. How are you?"
"Well, um, I-"
"Duncan!" Tessa cried as rushed over to him and kissed him.
"I'm fine now," said Duncan, laughing.
"Yeah," said an amused Darius.
Owen, Lynn and Richie came out immediately after.
"Never doubted you for a second," said Owen as he hugged his father.
"Hey, buddy. Let's not forget you're on Holy Ground here," Richie greeted Duncan as well before hugging him. How you doin', my friend?"
"I'm all right," Duncan replied.
"Good to see you."
"That was the biggest excuse to get us here," Lynn joked as she hugged Duncan herself. "Finally, we can have our vacation."
Duncan chuckled at his son's girlfriend.
"Yeah, well, how are you finding Paris?" he asked Richie.
"Well, I like the Parisian ladies quite a bit," Richie answered. "Yeah. Still dealing with this little language barrier, though. Trying to figure out just quite how to break the ice."
"You'll figure it out in time," soothed Lynn, "Owen and I've always been planning to come to Paris to celebrate my graduation."
"Looks like your wish was granted," Duncan replied. "Will you excuse us?"
With that, he left the area with Tessa, leaving Owen, Lynn and Richie with Darius.
"And that's our cue too," Owen quickly spoke, before leading Lynn in the opposite direction.
"Oh. I believe they need to 'break the ice'," explained Darius, humorously.
He then looked at Richie and told him, "I wasn't always a priest, you know. When I was a young man, the first thing you had to do when introduced to a woman was compliment her father's horse. That... well, that probably doesn't help you."
"Aah... no, not a whole lot," Richie shook his head.
He turned to follow Duncan and Tessa, but Darius stopped him and led the boy back to the chapel.
"Let me tell you a story," he said as both couples walked hand in hand down the street in their separate ways.
That evening, Owen and Lynn gazed out into the Seine River. "You know Owen, all of a sudden, I just want to lock you in a hotel room with me for a week," joked Lynn.
"It'll be hard to keep me a prisoner," Owen teased, nestling her neck. "You know, Tessa's enjoying her new job. Seems Dad and crew are gonna be here for a while."
"I do want to see some of her works while we tour."
"Great. While Richie plays, Dad can hang out on the barge, catch up on his reading, while Tess brings home the bacon, and we can travel."
"Barge? What barge?"
"Oh, I forgot to tell you about the barge. No self-respecting museum curator would live anywhere else."
"Sleeping on the river, huh? Never experienced that in my life."
The two shared passionate kiss below the full moon, in the City of Love. Owen knew just what to do during their vacation, though he knew nothing would keep them safe permanently. But that's another story.
Back in Seacouver, at an old bookstore, there was a manager office with the name, "MARA SCHONER" on the door.
Inside the office, Mara was placing Grayson's sword on the wall. She stepped back to look at it.
"Well done, MacLeod," she said to herself. "The world owes you a debt of gratitude."
As she looked at the sword, the door to her office slightly opened. Through the crack, a piercing blue eye glanced at her. Ten seconds later, the door quietly closed, and a man's voice came from its direction.
"Mara, you coming? We're late."
"Coming, Jimmy. Hold on," Mara called back.
She grabbed her purse and walked to the door. As she turned the knob, a strange tattoo was seen on her right wrist. She opened the door and exited the office.
(Cue Princes of the Universe)
Co-Starring
Earl Pastko as Victor Paulus
Terry Howson as Hoestler
Peter Diamond as Chief Brigand
Carrie Fisher as Mara Schoner
(Princes of the Universe ends)
Who is this mysterious Mara and who is spying on her? That is also another story. She will show up again, so no dedication to Carrie Fisher yet.
It was Grayson who helped give the show what it needed to keep going. His actor, James Horan, was also a choice for Duncan before Adrian Paul was cast. So glad Horan was still used in the show.
Following this episode, Powell, Bennett and Randi are never seen again. I wonder what happened to them. Maybe they got transferred somewhere else.
Since Jean Pierre was not credited AND his actor is unknown, I cannot credit him.
I removed some of the conversations Duncan and Tessa have because they remain the same and we only needed Owen and Lynn's discussions that were happening at the same time. I even decided to give Owen a stronger connection to the pull of the Gathering, that way, some Immortals that did not feel such a pull could rely on him. In this case, Duncan does. Owen is not the only Immortal that hasstronger connection to the pull of the Gathering though.
I chose not to have Owen be around when Duncan fought Grayson, because Duncan's duel with Grayson was unique and I wanted to show it because of how an awesome villain Grayson is. I also wanted to show more human to Owen by having him worry for his father.
I also fixed another goof. One of the brigands in the flashback has a spear, but when he clashed with Duncan in the original show, we hear a gunshot, even though the other one was using the musket.
Speaking of the brigands, this chapter is dedicated to the memory of the actor, stuntman, stunt coordinator and swordmaster, Peter Diamond, who played the Chief Brigand, as well as Immortal Iman Fasil in the original Highlander film. Peter was the only actor besides Christopher Lambert, to appear in both the original film and the series. However, Christopher reprised the role of Connor MacLeod, with Peter playing a new role, despite Fasil still being alive in 1816. It would have been cool if it actually was Fasil, but Duncan could not kill him as he crossed onto Holy Ground after being cut down.
Just so we are clear, the sword Peter used as Fasil was a Toledo Salamanca broadsword. Many say it is a rapier because of its hilt and blade. But the swept hilt was first used for military weapons before being adopted for rapiers, which were commonly a civilian weapon. The Toledo Salamanca blade is broader at the base, fullered, and shorter than a typical rapier blade, making it a fair match for a katana like Connor's/Ramírez's. The sword Peter used as the Chief Brigand was a typical rapier.
Peter had a total of over 1,000 credits in the industry as a stuntman, coordinator or fight arranger. He also had numerous roles as background or minor characters and directed and acted in several 1990 Zorro episodes. But I always knew him as the Tusken Raider who attacked Luke Skywalker in the original Star Wars film as well as the many roles he had in the original trilogy.
Sadly, he passed on of a stroke before the release of the Empire of Dreams: The Story of the Star Wars Trilogy documentary that he appeared in. He was survived by his wife and six children.
RIP, we will miss you, Peter.
August 10, 1929 - March 27, 2004 (74 years old)
Anyway, thanks for reading, please review, your support helps my writing.
R&R, Roland Cain out!