This can stand alone without having to read theother two.

Jeri Mckenna clenched her fists tightly over the steering  wheel in a white knuckled grip. Sweat trickled down her back  and she could physically feel eyes watching her every move.  She started merging into the left lane before turning into  a cross street. The silver Saturn and its lone occupant subjected  to a downpour, even late February in the Twin Cities was bound  to be slushy, and snow melt didn't make it any easier.  Waiting for the traffic light to turn green, she glanced into  her rear view mirror. She noted that the black mini van was still  tailing her. It had picked up her trail after she rented a car  at the airport after the flight from Europe. It made her  distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn't her Watcher, that man was  persistent. Then again, if it was another Immortal and if it  was who she suspected, she was in serious trouble.

The light changed and Jeri manoeuvred the car in between two  city  buses then into a parking lot, slid into a free spot and  turned off the ignition.

"Better safe than sorry."

Exiting, she pulled back on the lever that popped the trunk and  walked around to the rear. She pulled out three bags: one was  about four feet long and slender, slightly longer than your  average duffel bag. She'd had a devil of a time getting it   through customs.  They'd wanted to open it, of course.  And it had set off every alarm in the place. She'd told them  she was transporting museum exhibits from London. They'd given  her funny looks, but they bought it. The bag held her sword.  The smaller was her backpack that contained her necessities:  cosmetics, passports, ID, credentials, credit cards, and  sundry items. The most important at the moment, a cellular phone.  The last was a wheeled suitcase with a change of outfits.  Slamming the trunk, Jeri walked slowly and purposefully toward  the church's double doors. It was holy ground, she'd be safe  there.

Swinging back the doors, Jeri absently noted that it had  undergone some impressive renovations since the last time  she'd been there. "Not surprising, since the last time I  was here was almost half a century ago."  The dome was no longer tarnished green from exposure, instead  the copper shone as rich and dark as ale. The place brought  back bittersweet memories of another time and place.  ____

Flashback, London 1557

Gerladine Mckenna leaned up against the wall of the anteroom  of the Tower of London, peering out into the city. A wagon  trundled along a concrete causeway spanning the Thames.   In the wagon bed sat two figures: a man and a woman, both  heavily cloaked. Chains bound their hands and feet, a set that  matched the ones on her own hands. Drawing closer, she could  see their features: Lady Jane Grey and her husband, Lord   John Dudley.

She heaved a sigh that came up from the soles  of her black boots and ended at the roots of her brown hair.

"They'd hadn't managed to escape after all."

The ship she'd commissioned and booked passage for them  must've been waylaid enroute to Calais or commandeered by   Queen Mary's royal navy.  She also knew what would happen once they reached Tower Green;  they'd be executed.  Both had their hair shorn close to their  scalp as a mark of their crimes and to make it easier for the  headsman to perform his duties. It also meant she'd join in  the public display of justice.

She was sentenced to a trial  by water for the crime of being a witch and aiding and abetting  an enemy of the crown.

Approaching the drawbridge, the portcullis lowered, the hinges  creaking as they rubbed against centuried brick and mortar.  The wagon rumbled inside and its passengers were unloaded by  a tall man wearing a black hood, with an axe over one shoulder.  His arrival triggered the tell-tale buzz that signalled the  presence of another Immortal. However, the man did not turn  around or acknowledge that he sensed her presence.

"End of the line, folks," the man growled.

"Cullen!" Jeri exclaimed, "He knows what its like to be the   object of witch hunts, why would he...." she whispered.

"YOU!" he gestured brusquely to Mckenna, "You are sentenced  to trial by water, this way," was all she the reaction she got  out of him.  ____

OUTSIDE

Jeri watched as her two friends were led up to a hastily   built scaffold, and made to lay down on the wooden surface.   Cullen raised the axe above his head, with ringing arc, he brought it down upon Jane's neck, spraying blood everywhere,  and then brought it down on John's neck.  The watching crowd  in mixed mood about the entire proceedings, some cheered.

Cullen flung his left arm behind him and snagged her around the  waist, then flung her bodily into a waiting tub of water,  hoping she'd sink like a rock.  The shock of freezing water hitting  her body woke her from her numb state of disassociation from  the situation.  She felt herself sink and her lungs struggle to  gasp for breath.

The chains on her arms preventing her from  flailing to come back up to the surface for air. Then everything  went black. ___

Present Day

Seating herself in a shadowed nook, she picked up the   phone, removing the address book, Jeri dialled the number   in San Francisco. If Sam Guthrie hadn't mailed her a postcard  from X-Force's vacation in Hawaii, she wouldn't have known  where to find him.  __
 

Sam Guthrie and Dani Moonstar pulled up in front of X-Force's current base of operations: a glorified warehouse
leased to their teammate, Roberto Dacosta from his father's    international business. They'd just returned from a run along    Venice Beach, and parked the cherry red 58' El Dorado in front    of the building.

"The problem with this town is that the streets are either too up or too down!"

Entering, the first thing they heard was the blare of the TV and Tabitha , her blond hair covering her eyes, lying on he sofa, zapping through channels. Bobby slept on the floor, having long ago given up the fight for the remote.

"Yo! Mason-Dixon! You've got a phone call," she yelled from the center of the room, loudly, but Bobby never stirred.

"Y'all going to be okay, Dani?" Sam asked, referring to their talk on the beach about Dani's waning psionic powers.

"I'm fine, Sam. Go take your call," Dani said, brushing backa lock of black hair. "There's nothing wrong with me that a    good night's sleep won't cure. End of discussion."

"Kay. Give me the phone, Tab. It might be Paige again."

"Sure," Tabitha yawned and handed him the cordless phone.

Placing the receiver to his ear, he flopped down on the   couch next to Taibtha, absently noting that she was now
watching CNN.

"Paige, is that you? Is Ma okay? She's getting better with the treatment at that facility in Louisville, right?" Sam, asked, worried. It had been only a couple of months when he'd learned that his mother had come down with some obscure   syndrome. It wasn't fatal, however, it required treatment and a lengthy hospital stay.

"Sam, it's not your sister," a woman, with a Scottish burr, said on the other end of the line.

"You sound awfully familiar.  Who is this?"

"Sam, I'm sorry to hear about your mother. It's Jeri Mckenna."

"OH MY GOD! Jeri, where y'all been hiding yourself, girl?"

"It's a long story, Sam."

"Coming from you, ah'd believe it. What's up?"

"I have a situation that involves you. I can't say how or why....."

"You sound like you've seen a ghost. We've been friends too' long, don't hedge your bets with me, Jeri."

"Sam, there's a man. His name is Fenris Cullen. He knows all about you, all about your family, your sister, Paige."

"Does he know about X-Force?" Sam asked, a tone of suspicion and worry creeping into his voice, making his Kentucky drawl  even more pronounced.

"No.  He doesn't care about X-Force. At least I don't believe  he does. It's you he wants. He knows everything that happened  when you died and came back to life."

"Were the Externals mentioned?"

"No. He thinks you're one of the Immortals, like Macleod,  Methos, and myself."

"He thinks I'm Immortal participating in that ol' cosmic  Game of yours?" Sam almost choked on the irony and absurdity  of it all. Jeri Mckenna wouldn't have called with a story like  that for the sake of a practical joke.

"Yes. Sam. I'm sorry. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary.  Please, believe me."

"What do you need?"  "I need you to come meet me in Minneapolis by the cherry and the spoon."

"That some kind of Immortal code?"

"NO. It's an actual sculpture at the Walker Art Center."

"Jeri, X-Force..."  "I understand that your first loyalty is to X-Force, and  the cause you're fighting for.
What do you know about a group calling itself the "Friends of Humanity?"

"They're bad news, anti mutant vigilantes. Stay away from  them, Jeri."

"Fenris Cullen is one of them."

"An Immortal is one of their bloodhounds?"

"Look, I can't say anymore over the phone, just trust me.  Fenris may have followed me here. He wants you."

"I'll be there. I'll figure out something to tell the others.  Jeri, stay put, and be careful."

"Thanks, Sam. Thanks a million. Bye," Jeri hung up and   the phone on the other end clicked with a dull chime.

"What was that all about, Sam?" Tabitha asked.

"Your sister, okay?"

"Yes, Paige is fine. She sends her's and Ma's love,"   Sam fudged.
"You think the guys will miss me for a few   days if I went back to Kentucky for a visit?"

"Why not? It's not like you're the life of the party."  Tabitha said, picking up a copy of Reader's Digest.

"Tab, you keep that up and people might think you have a brain," Sam warned.

"Very funny," she growled and went back to reading before   her head hit the couch cushions.

"That was simple enough, might as well take a deep breath and jump right in"
It was bad enough being an Immortal   mutant, but now...." he muttered and trundled off to bed.  ___
 
 

Being a mutant has its advantages, being able to fly with the  wind in his face, was definitely one of them." Sam thought.  Igniting his kinetic blast field, he launched himself into  the sky. He adjusted his speed slightly to pace himself.  He figured he'd make he Midwest in about three hours.  __

The Sculpture Garden

"Jeri, you here?" Sam said, turning off his blast field  and drifting down to a landing on the tiled pathway.  He never thought about the fact that his powers seemed to  insulate him from temperature extremes. Northern California  in February was like spring here.

Taking stock of his surroundings, he noticed that Mckenna hadn't  been kidding when she'd said "meet at the cherry and the spoon'  It was a sculpture, about the size of a house. A silver implement, gleaming in the brittle winter sunlight.  It arched like some medieval catapult primed to launch   boulders at some castle. Instead of a boulder, perched on the  rounded end of the spoon, was a large red, cherry, threatening  to topple at any moment.

"Over here."  Jeri's Scottish drawl echoed as she came around from the   mounted portion of the sculpture.
Her brown hair was swept  up into a braid. She was dressed in a black, knee-length  outfit with black boots, with her sword strapped to her back.   Giving his friend a quick glance that took in everything,  Sam would have said she resembled a tail twitching panther  about to pounce.

"Kinda an odd place for a clandestine meeting," Sam joked,  trying to lighten the tense atmosphere.

"You were expecting a romantic rendevouz?" Jeri managed to  grin, picking up on Sam's lead and glided over to give the  Kentucky born mutant a hug and a peck on the cheek.

"You're looking good, Sam. Blue suits you."

"So where is this guy, anyway? And just how much does he  know about me?" Sam asked, getting back to serious business.

"Everything, Sam. His dossier file on you is probably as   complete as the Watcher database on Immortals. He's had   two hundred and fifty years to compile it. He's recently   hacked into the Xavier files."

"Why is he interested in me? Why not other mutants if he's   the bloodhound for the Friends of Humanity?"

"He may become interested in other mutants, I'm not really  sure.  The others Externals, as you call them, are
for  all practical purposes, defunct. With them out of the way..."

"Other than the blackcap, Selene, I'm the only one left.   How do you know she iced the others?"

"Bad news travels fast. It was in the papers. Plus the throw down with the Externals was pretty obvious, since it
took place in Rockfeller Center. Plus, my curiosity was  piqued by the fact that the police files from the NYPD  precinct disappeared almost immediately after X-Force's  bail was posted."

"Okay, I'll buy that. Now what?"  "Let's go the to the conservatory."  __    
 

"Is he coming?" Sam asked anxiously, rocking back and forth on his heels. Sam suddenly winced in pain as a
dull throbbing  buzz began at the base of his spine and worked its way up  behind his skull. He could sense that someone was there, but  he couldn't put his finger on exactly where they were.
Yet,  he could feel eyes watching him.

Jeri reacted in a similar  manner, drawing her sword, she began pacing the length of  the building. She turned her head, staring into shadowed  corners, checking all exits and entrances.

"Who's there?" Sam demanded.

"Guess that answers that question, boyo?" a man's gravely   voice said.

A figure emerged from the shadows, levelling  open a pane in the glass walls, and stepped into the light.  "Fenris Cullen, I presume?" Sam said.

"The same."

"Geraldine Mckenna."

"Ah guess you already know who I am."

"Samuel Guthrie. YOU, ME, NOW. Guthrie, I assume you're  up to it, boyo." Cullen laughed, which sounded like nails  being run down  a chalkboard.

"Any time, pal," Sam growled, a heartbeat away from igniting  his blast field, it had been a long time since anyone could  get away with calling him a 'boy.'  This Cullen fellow was  definitely raising his hackles.

"Hold It! I want to evoke the Other Rule!" Jeri yelled.

"What the bloody hell are you talking about, woman" Cullen growled.

"There's an obscure rule among Immortals. Marvels are  exempt from participating in the Game because Immortals  aren't allowed to challenge them, because of the unpredictable  nature of the X-Factor tipping the scales during a fight,"  Jeri explained.

"Who cares? I challenged him, he accepted," Cullen said, pulling a sabre out.

"As his teacher, this fight is mine."

"You're his teacher?" Cullen asked as if he didn't quite believe her. His eyes narrowed in concentration, trying to
assimilate this bit of information, and if it worked out in  his favor.  Evidently the answer ended up in the plus  column because he turned back to her, and grunted with  an affirmative nod.

"Agreed. Okay, Mckenna. I've heard of  you. This time you're not walking away from me."

"Jeri, I don't need you to protect me," Sam whispered.

"I know. Keep the Friends of Humanity off our backs, and you'll be doing both of us a favor."  __

OUTSIDE

Sam didn't have to wait long, for as soon as he appeared  outside, six men with guns, knifes and other weapons, moved  into formation.  They surrounded him in a tightly closing ring.  As even half-dozen, all dressed alike, jeans and cotton shirts  with a crimson armband tightly bound across their upper arms;  the stark  black letters: F.O.H printed big as life on the  white cloth.  The last time he'd seen those letters had been when X-Force  had intercepted a federal transport, when they'd been set  on kidnapping its passenger, Lucia Callasantos, sister to  their former team-mate, Feral.

She was being transported  to Rkyer's Prison in upstate New York. That mission had gone  somewhat smoothly, until they reached the house where both  sisters had grown up.  Sam shook his head,
"What a mess that was."

Feral had been completely unremorseful.  That incident had bothered him more than he cared to admit.
That Feral defected to the Mutant Liberation Front, was bad  enough; but the truth of her family's murder that came out in  that dingy two-story house was a painful memory.  Sam blinked away tears of regret:

"Ah gotta focus on the  here and now. Can't let old memories get in the way. Better  ignite mah blast field and get this show on the road."

He took up a battle-ready stance.  The men closed in, some chanting 'mutie-scum, mutie-scum',  over and over, others were eerily silent, as they opened  fire, salvos and high octane energy hit his blast field  caroming off it like billiard balls after the opening break.  The thud of impact causing tiles, dirt and concrete to  explode.

"Idiots," Sam thought, deliberately colliding with his  opponents, causing their weapons to explode as they made  contact with his blast field. Taking advantage of the  momentary shock, he effectively took them out of the  fight with a solid left hook to their jaws. He watched  them drop to the crowd with a satisfying thud.

"End of the line, boys. Hope Jeri's doing okay up there."  Sam glanced towards the glass enclosed building. Spotting  the black mini van these folks arrived in, Sam dragged the men  one by one, by the heels and unceremoniously dumped their limp  forms inside, then slammed the doors.  Heading back towards the conservatory, he heard the  distinctive clang of blade on blade, Jeri's soft breathing and  Cullen's ursine growling.
"At least she's still alive. You go, girl. Give'em as good  as you get."

Of all the rules governing Immortals, one he knew by heart,  that during a battle, running interference by another wasn't  allowed.  "Stupid rule," he muttered, sitting down on a nearby  bench, silently cheering his friend on.   _ .
 

Both opponents brought up the hilts of their swords in   the time-honored salute of sword fighters throughout history.  They lowered them with the points horizontally about five  feet above the ground.   Rocking back on her heels, Jeri assumed a battle ready stance,   poised to either strike or defend. She watched as Cullen  ponderously circled her, she imitated him, but circled  counter clockwise, both looking for an opening in the other's  defence. Suddenly Cullen let out a bear-like growl and  levelled his sword until it was even with her shoulder blades,   charging like an angry bear from its den.

"You might as well get on your knees, and let me take your   head, woman," Cullen growled.

"You'd spoil my fun," Jeri replied.

"Your funeral."

"I don't think it's going to be that easy."  Jeri handled her sword right-handed, using her center of  balance to draw tighter, a white-knuckled grip on the hilt,  employing a series of thrusts, using its length to dart in  for arcing cuts at Cullen while dancing back to stay out   of his range. His longer, more powerful arms enabled to basically  hammer away at her sword. For all his ponderous bulk, the man  could move rather quickly. Jeri parried with the flat of her  blade, the cross guard to block, and on brief occasions to lock  up her opponents.   She hacked at his torso, tearing a long gash through fabric  and flesh, using the opposite edge of her sword, protecting  her hand from slamming into Cullen's. Pivoting on her heel,  she narrowly avoided a darting thrust at level with the back  of her knees intended to hamstring her, making it easier for  him to take her head.   She narrowly missed another slash at her lower ribs and    spun around with a technique learned in judo class.   Cullen may have been bigger and stronger, but she'd   learned that most opponents she eventually face would be,   and she'd  have to be smarter and faster. She had one    advantage that way, she could get in under his guard.   Darting into range, Jeri locked up Cullen's weapon and    swivelling around her sword, she swiped it across his    throat, as he instinctively brought up his sword hand to   stem the flow of blood, dropping his weapon.   Spinning around, Jeri raised her sword above her head,   thinking even as she did so, that during their last meeting   he'd been on the opposite of this very scenario, when he'd   executed her friends, Jane Grey and John Dudley.

"Finish it, Mckenna," Fenris Cullen growled, defiant until the end.

"There can be only one," Jeri said and separated Cullen's head from his body.
After she did so, a white fog rolled up out of nowhere, smothering her.       ___

The Quickening    The magic contained enough memories of all the talents   of its previous owner. his every move. It was all there for   her to tap into, both the good and the bad, and all that   entailed bound into the power of the Quickening.  Floating  in the storm wind, the essence flooded into her and through  her with all her barriers down. As much as a rush as  experiencing the Quickening was; in a corner of Jeri's mind,  she was glad she'd taken the fight with Cullen on herself.  Sam Guthrie, Cannonball, had spent most of his adult life   learning how to control his powers, learning how to fight,  to survive in a world where mutants were feared and hated.  But Immortals, and their cosmic Game of good versus evil,  preparing for the Gathering, that was drastically different.  He wasn't ready.

Then all rational thought was swept away.  The coruscating energy swept over her entire body, sparkling  crackles of lightning hitting her at her ribs, her upper arms,  and down her legs. She tried to hold her sword upright in the  ground, but she lost her grip, and stumbled to her knees, letting  out a primal scream as the energy coursed through her.  It could have been ages, but it was only a matter of minutes  before the Quickening transference ran its course.    __

Conclusion

Lightning lanced down out of a clear sky, imploding the    glass panels of the conservatory. It set the double row of    pine trees on fire, enough for several weeks worth of firewood.    Sam watched as the black van drove away, and glimpsed Jeri    stagger down the steps.

"Sam, you don't know how much I appreciate you coming all    this way to help me."

"Don't sweat it, Jeri. That's what friends are for," Sam said,  letting her lean up against him and as he led her over to    a bench. Sam lowered her so she was resting comfortably.

"You look like hell. Does the Quickening always do this?

"Pretty much." It's like coming down from a incredible    height."

"You didn't take the fight on yourself for me."   "Sam, I meant that..."    "But you had some sort of history with that Cullen guy."

"It's ancient history, but I've left it too long unresolved."   "It's over now?"  "Cullen won't be coming back. Ever."

"You beat him."

"It took some doing. It was touch and go most of the way."

"Not that I'm sorry he's dead, but I'm glad you beat him."

"How long you planning on staying?"

"Well, not that the emergency is over..."

"Unless you've got some pressing X-Force business, why don't you stay with me, I'll show you around town."

"Sure thing." Sam replied, as Jeri tilted forward and fell asleep, since she was obviously exhausted, he didn't think  it
was that much trouble to let her stay there. The funny thing was, Immortal or not, she reminded him of his sister,
and in odd way, he often thought as their friendship in that way.
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