Immortal Pretense
The Concept and characters associated with The Pretender belong to NBC. All other characters and the story line belong to me. I make no money from this: I do it because I enjoy it (masochism must run in the family). Don’t bother suing me; I’m broke. The timing of this story occurs shortly after the Series Finale (Not To Be) for Highlander. As always, feedback is welcome, so Email me!
The Center, Blue Cove DE
Broots’ eyes darted nervously from side to side as he made his way across the mezzanine to Sydney and Miss Parker. As usual, his furtive mannerisms annoyed Miss Parker - but then, almost everything annoyed Miss Parker.
“What is it, Broots? Out with it,” she snapped. Twin jets of cigarette smoke shot from her patrician nose reminding Broots of a fire-breathing dragon. The aptness of that image secretly amused Broots.
“Something really strange is going on,” he muttered.
“Something strange is always going on here, Broots,” she replied, scorn heavy in her voice. “What’s got your feeble excuse for a spine stiff today?”
“It’s Raines. He’s been running full data searches on someone named Adam Pierson. It seems he didn’t exist prior to 1996.”
“What’s old Wheezy after?” she demanded.
“He thinks this Pierson person may be - you know, like Jarod - a natural Pretender. I think he hopes to use him against Jarod. He has dispatched Gar and his sweeper goons to go get him.”
Parker moved closer to Broots, invading his personal space. He looked into the steely eyes framed by the beautiful face as she commanded, “You will keep me informed on this. I want to know everything as soon as it happens. Don’t even consider failing me on this.” She strode off, her heel beats echoing across the mezzanine.
Joe’s Blues Bar, Seacover WA
“Dawson. How about another beer? This one seems to be empty.”
“You know, you really should slow down on that stuff. In another two or three thousand years it could really mess up your liver.” Dawson handed the frosted bottle to his friend.
“What’s this? Duncan MacLeod goes into retreat from the modern world at places unknown so you decide to fill your empty hours by mothering me?”
“Mother you? I’d have more luck convincing Amanda to take Holy Orders and become celibate!”
The two laughed at this allusion to the friend they all called “Our Lady of the Light Fingers”. The two men were a marked contrast to one another. Joe Dawson was in his mid-fifties, a double amputee from the Viet Nam war, accomplished blues musician, and owner of the bar they were in. Adam Pierson appeared to be a much younger man in his early thirties, slim with the natural grace and agility found in the honed movements of athletes. This appearance was deceptive, for Joe Dawson was actually the younger man. Adam was much, much older than he looked.
He could not remember when he was born or under what name. Back around 5,000 years ago, he’d become known as Methos. He was an Immortal, whose amazing recuperative powers enabled him to survive all mortal wounds except decapitation. Losing one’s head was just as fatal to Immortals as it was to the rest of humanity. He was considered to be the oldest Immortal still living.
While Joe Dawson owned the blues bar, his principle avocation was as a Watcher-a member of that secret organization which chronicled the lives of the Immortals. Joe’s Immortal, Duncan MacLeod, had just left for places unknown in a spiritual retreat after the recent run-in with another Immortal named Liam O’Rourke. It was as a special favor that Duncan was without a Watcher for the duration of his retreat.
Adam/Methos did not have a Watcher, either. Other than Joe Dawson, no other mortal knew he was an Immortal. In fact, Adam Pierson was presently serving as a researcher for the Watchers, investigating the myth of the oldest Immortal known as Methos. Oh, it had been touch and go a few times in the past. There was the time a few years back when renegade Watchers had been hunting and killing the Immortals-it had almost resulted in an all-out war between the Watchers and the Immortals. Another close call had been when an Immortal named Kalas had found a CD-ROM disk with the entire Watcher database of Immortals. Kalas had threatened to release the information to the media, exposing the existence of Immortals. Adam/Methos had considered vanishing like MacLeod was doing now, Kalas had been killed and the disk destroyed.
The sound of the bar’s main door opening brought Adam/Methos from his reverie. Three men in dark suits, the leader obviously the one with the white hair. They did not look like blues fans-they looked like government trouble.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen, we are closed. It’s after hours,” Joe announced, coming out from behind the bar. As Joe passed, one of the agents hit him with a sap, knocking him unconscious. Before Adam/Methos could react, another agent fired a tiny dart into his neck. The sedative quickly blocked rational thought, and the room tilted as it went dark.
The Center, Blue Cove DE
“Sir, it was the strangest thing I ever saw. We had hit him with that tranquilizer dart. It should have put him down for eight hours, but in thirty minutes he suddenly exploded into motion. Richards slammed him with the sap and knocked him out again. Not ten minutes later, he was trying to get out the door of the car. Fortunately, we had just pulled up to the airport hanger at that time, so we were able to dart him again and then transfer him into the plane. We bound him in a straight jacket, plus leg irons, then strapped him into a plane seat. He woke up again as we finished strapping him in. We just could not keep him unconscious.” Gar reported to Dr. Raines. “I don’t know what this guy is, but we must be very careful not to let him loose.”
Raines wheezed for a moment, then said, “You put him in the hidden lab in SL-26?”
“Yes, sir. We also started the video and audio monitoring equipment. He’s been muttering in a language I don’t recognize.” Gar activated the monitor in Raines office. The image showed a bound Adam/Methos struggling against his bindings, muttering imprecations under his breath. Raines listened to the audio for a moment with a very startled look. This man was speaking what sounded like ancient Sumerian. Motioning Gar to follow him, Raines left his office to visit his newest acquisition.
Broots had compromised Raines security systems long before. As Raines and Gar entered the lab on SL-26, Miss Parker, Sydney, and Broots watched on the monitors. Broots had notified Miss Parker as soon as the sweeper team had returned with Pierson. She had watched Gar’s report with disbelief; she knew the potency of the drugs used by the Center and no one, not even a Pretender, could evade their efficacy. As Raines entered the lab, she focused her full attention on the monitors.
“Welcome, Mr. Pierson,” Raines wheezed. “I trust you are comfortable. My name is Raines.”
“You are aware that kidnapping is a federal offense, even for a government agency. What the hell is this all about?” Adam/Methos shouted. “Who are you people and why have you attacked my friend and grabbed me like this?”
“You are under some misconceptions. We are not part of the government. We do what we must to achieve our goals, even if that means killing an old man.” At Adam/Methos’ gasp, Raines continued, “I don’t know that he’s dead. I’m saying it is irrelevant to our purpose here. That is the only thing that does matter. So tell me, Mr. Pierson, who are you really?”
“What do you mean? I’m Adam Pierson and I work in a bookstore in Seacover, Washington.”
“Adam Pierson came into existence in Paris in 1995. Prior to that, there is no verifiable record of his existence. I want to know who you are and how you were able to defeat our drugs.” At that, Gar walked over and began to beat Adam/Methos. Slowly, methodically, he brutally beat the helpless Immortal. Raines gestured with his finger and Gar stopped. “Now, let that be a warning to you. I don’t like deception.” As he spoke, Raines looked at his captive. He could see the swelling caused by the beating was actually reversing...it was going away as if the beating had never taken place. No wonder drugs were ineffective if this man could heal this fast. Raines nodded to Gar, and Gar administered a hypodermic filled with a powerful sedative. Once Adam/Methos had collapsed, Gar and another sweeper quickly chained him to the hospital style bed after removing the straight jacket.
They left the leg irons in place as added insurance.
Once Adam/Methos was secured, Raines moved to his side. He picked up a surgical scalpel and drew the blade along the back of Adam/Methos’ hand. The skin parted and blood flowed freely. Raines bent and watched the edges of the wound closely. Slowly he backed away from the bed, turned, and left the lab. Gar followed, locking the door on his way out.
Miss Parker sat back and stared at the monitor. Whoever this still figure was, he was much more than just a Pretender. The question was much more complex. Just exactly what was Mr. Adam Pierson?
Joes' Blues Bar, Seacover DE
Joe Dawson had an incredible headache. He’d contacted the police as soon as he’d regained consciousness, and the paramedics had accompanied the police when they’d arrived. After giving his statement about the intruders the previous night, Joe had been taken to the hospital. His skull was not fractured, but he did have a concussion. The hospital was very reluctant to let him go home, but he had refused to stay. He had work to do; Methos was missing and presumed taken.
//Why did MacLeod have to be missing right now? Amanda had also disappeared right after the O’Rourke business, so there was no help from that corner. There must be someone he could call, somebody else he could turn to. Think, Joe, Think.// Joe sat at his desk, staring into space, trying to come up with someone ... anyone ... he could ask to help him find Methos. //Wait a minute.// A fragment of a conversation with Duncan teased the edges of Joe’s mind. That’s it! Joe dug around in the papers in a drawer of the desk and came up with a small business card. If you can’t find the one, get the other!
San Fransisco CA
The subdued bells of the telephone blended into the atmosphere of the store. Perhaps the most prestigious dealer in antiques serving the Bay area, Antiquities had the feel of an old chapel - a hush seemed to naturally fall over every patron as they spent time in the store. The owner rarely spoke very loudly - his soft speech did not hide the hint of a Scot’s brogue. His name was Conner MacLeod, and he was Duncan MacLeod’s great uncle. Conner was born in the Highlands in 1542; he’d held many identities over the years, but tried every generation or so to use his own name.
“Antiquities,” the secretary answered the telephone, “How may we help you?”
“I’d like to speak to Conner MacLeod, please. This is Joe Dawson calling from Seacover.”
“One moment, please.”
When he heard who was on the telephone, a chill passed over Conner. //Why would Joe Dawson, Watcher and friend of Duncan MacLeod, be calling him? Had something happened to Duncan?// With his heart in his throat, Conner answered the phone. “Hello? Conner MacLeod speaking.”
“Mr. MacLeod, my name is Joe Dawson. I’m a friend of Duncan’s. Was he ever mentioned me?”
“Yes, Mr. Dawson. I know who you are. Has something happened to Duncan?”
“Duncan is fine as far as I know. He is off on a spiritual retreat.
Something has happened that I need help with. Tell me, Mr. MacLeod. Does the name Adam Pierson mean anything to you?”
“No, I am afraid I’ve never heard the name. Why?”
“Mr. MacLeod, I really need your help. Could you possibly come to Seacover immediately? I know this is out of the blue and a lot to ask, but it is very important. The life of a friend may hang in the balance.”
Conner thought for a minute. Duncan had told him all about Joe Dawson and the unique relationship he held with this Watcher. He felt a family obligation to help this mortal in Duncan’s absence. “Yes, I will come. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
Shakespeare and Company Bookstore, Seacover WA
Across town, the sweeper team gained entrance to the bookstore by picking the locks on the service entrance in the alley. The team began a thorough search of the premises. Every piece of furniture was checked. The computer was checked; the hard drive was duplicated for in-depth review later. Every piece of correspondence was examined. Agents went through every single book in stock, looking for anything that might be a clue. It was inside the false binding of an antique book that they found it; a CD-ROM disk. Gar placed the disk into the computer and booted it up. He read enough to understand that he’d found the answer...and it terrified him.
Joe’s Blues Bar, Seacover WA
Conner walked into the bar amid the late afternoon crowd, and surveyed the surroundings. There was no apparent threat. The bar was obviously prospering; the crowd was standing room only, and it was still two hours before the entertainment was scheduled to start. He ordered a Glenlivet on the rocks, and sat at a small table away from the mainstream of customers.
Joe had seen him come in. He’d studied Conner’s photographs from the files, so he knew him as soon as he’d entered the bar. He fixed Conner’s drink and carried it over to the table personally. “Thank you for coming, Mr. MacLeod.” Joe said as he placed the drink on the table. “I’m Joe Dawson.”
Conner looked at him steadily, and Joe returned the gaze. They were each comparing the person in front of them to the image that had built in their minds over the years. Before either could speak again, the TV over the bar spoke of a special bulletin. “Seacover police are presently investigating the burglary and arson of the Shakespeare and Company Bookstore, part of the international chain of antique bookstores. Film at 11 tonight.”
“God, that’s where he worked and lived. We may have an even bigger problem than I thought.” Joe said.
After letting the day manager know where he’d be, Joe took Conner up to his apartment. Inviting his guest to sit and be comfortable, Dawson began to explain. “Mr. MacLeod..”
“Call me Conner.”
“Okay, thank you. Conner, have you ever heard of an Immortal named Methos?”
“I have heard of the myth, but frankly I have never believed it to be true.”
“Oh, it’s true all right. Methos has been hiding here in Seacover under the name Adam Pierson. He is a good friend of your nephew, Duncan, and mine. He’s actually been working as a researcher for the Watchers, if you can believe that. Last night, a group of men came into the bar, knocked me unconscious, and kidnapped him. They looked like government agents, but I can’t really imagine our government doing something like that.”
“I can see why you need help. What’s this bigger problem you spoke of.”
“Methos is enamored with computers. A few years ago, he and another researcher developed a CD-ROM program that contained the entire Watcher database on Immortals...who you are, who you have been, the works. The original disk was destroyed back in Paris when Kalas had his hands on it.
It is probable that Methos had a back-up copy of that disk. That news bulletin said there had been a break-in and arson at the place Methos worked and lived. I’m afraid that whoever took Methos may now have that disk and know all about the Immortals and the Watchers.
The Center, Blue Cove DE
“This had better be damned important, Broots” stormed Miss Parker as she entered the room. “I had just gotten to sleep.”
“Judge for yourself,” he said as he activated the video taken of the new captive. The monitor showed him still chained to his bed. Gar and Raines had entered the room. At a nod from Raines, Gar had drawn his Glock 9-mm handgun and deliberately shot the captive in the heart.
“So much for their pseudo-Pretender,” Miss Parker said.
“Watch. You are not going to believe this!” Broots said, excitedly.
Parker shook her head as she turned back to the monitor. She could see Raines and Gar just standing there staring at the man they’d just killed. Moments passed. Nothing happened; no one moved. “This is stupid, Broots.
Why are we staring at a dead man?”
“Wait. Just another minute and you’ll see.”
She turned back just in time to see... //No, that’s not possible. He can’t be breathing.// She could see Raines go over to the bed and take a damp cloth and wipe away the blood. //There was no hole. Where was the hole? What happened to the hole?//
“See? See why I called you? I overheard them talking. This guy is Immortal; he’s over 5,000 years old.”
“Broots, you have obviously been working too hard. Either that, or you are as crazy as I have always thought.”
“No, seriously. I mean, you saw them shoot him in the heart and yet there he is, alive and breathing. And according to the computer disk that Gar brought back a little while ago, this guy is not the only one. There are a lot of them living among us.”
Portland, OR
“You have mail.” At the sound of the synthesized voice, Jarod turned to his sophisticated computer. He clicked the icon to open the file. As he suspected, it was from Angelo. Like all of Angelo’s letters, it was short.
“You must free him. Find Joe Dawson.” The file also included two attachments.
The first was a video clip of Raines and Gar with a stranger chained to a bed - obviously somewhere in the Center. He watched in horror as Gar killed the stranger with a gunshot to the heart. How was he supposed to free a dead man? Wait a minute...did he really see what he thought he saw? He bent closer to the screen in time to watch Raines wipe away the blood from the stranger’s moving, breathing chest. Somehow, some way, this stranger had healed...had been resurrected...had come back to life.
The second attachment was huge data file. Once the download of the file was complete, Jarod closed his mail link, and opened the file off-line. Jarod could scarcely credit what he was reading, even if it did explain what he’d just seen in the video clip. Immortals, hunting each other through the ages, fighting with swords. There were so many of them listed in the files; how had they escaped notice all this time? Some were the epitome of evil; others almost saints. The majority of Immortals were obvious mixtures of both good and bad - essentially human in every respect except one: they lived forever. While the data file claimed to have the identities of all the Immortals, it did not include the stranger in the video.
The file also included a short biography on most key members of the Watchers, a group of mortals who followed and documented the lives of the Immortals. Joe Dawson was a Watcher, and he lived in Seacover, just a short drive away.
Joe’s Blues Bar, Seacover WA
Conner was sitting in a quiet corner, sipping his Glenlivet on the Rocks, and pondering what to do next. He had determined the men had flown Methos away on a private jet. There was no flight plan, and the registration numbers were phony. Methos could literally be anywhere, and there was no clue to follow.
Jarod sat across the bar and watched the Immortal. His eidetic memory had identified the Immortal as Conner MacLeod, one of the predominantly good ones. He’d watched MacLeod interact with the man with the canes, Joe Dawson. Since Immortals carried swords and Jarod was unsure of his reception, he decided to approach Dawson.
He worked his way through the crowd at the bar and tried to get Dawson’s attention. The crush precluded any type of conversation, so Jarod took a cocktail napkin and drew the symbol for the Watchers. After establishing solid eye contact with Dawson, Jarod handed him the napkin. Dawson glanced at the napkin and then looked back to watch Jarod return to his table.
Moments later, Dawson sat down across from Jarod. “You have my attention.”
“My name is Jarod. I need your help. I think a group called the Center is holding an Immortal. We need to rescue him right away. They also have the complete Watcher data file.”
Joe was stunned by this announcement. It was what he’d been dreading since the arson at the bookstore; an outside agency had the file. That news so rattled Joe that he missed the rest of Jarod’s statements.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t quite catch what you said.”
“I asked if we could go somewhere private where you could view the video I was sent of this Immortal held by the Center. You should ask Conner MacLeod over there to join us as I think his help will be needed.”
Joe was shaken again, this time by Jarod’s identification of Conner. “How did you know who he was?”
“I also have a copy of your Watcher file. Look, I know this is sudden and you have no real reason to trust me. I am willing to bet my life against Conner’s katana.”
Joe got up and went over to Conner. Conner’s head snapped over, and Jarod could feel his cold gaze from across the bar. Joe and he spoke quietly, but the tension was evident. At last, Conner gave a small nod. Joe beckoned Jarod to join them.
With Dawson in the lead and Conner bringing up the rear, the trio went upstairs to Joe’s apartment over the bar. Conner just stared at Jarod as he explained his connection with the Center.
“I was taken by the Center as a young child. I spent years developing simulations for them. Two years ago, I became aware that the Center was perverting my gifts and using my simulations to kill people and topple governments. I escaped and have been on the run from them ever since.”
“What makes you so valuable to this Center?” Joe asked.
“I am what they call a Pretender, capable of becoming whatever I choose. I have been many different things since I escaped - doctor, lawyer, ranger, teacher, many others. I’ve spent my time doing two things. The first is helping those who have been wronged, an attempt to redress what the Center did with my work. The second is more personal - trying to find my family.”
Conner spoke. “Why can’t you find your family?”
“Aside from the fact I was so young when I was kidnapped, I have no memory of their names. I’m not even sure if they are my biological parents, since there is a possibility that I was adopted through a place called Nugenesis in Florida.”
“Okay, assuming for the moment we accept all this as true. Why do you think this Center has an Immortal?” Conner demanded.
“I received this from a source I trust within the Center.” He activated the video and watched their faces. He could see recognition light Joe’s face and shock in both when the Immortal was shot. “This Immortal was not in the data file so I don’t know his name. I can see, however, that Dawson does know him.”
Conner turned his gaze upon the Watcher. Joe was still struggling with his emotions from the video. “That’s Methos,” he whispered. “He is the oldest Immortal. He is also my friend and was kidnapped from the bar downstairs two days ago by the same white-haired thug that shot him in the video.”
“Okay, Pretender. I am convinced.” Conner said. “You said you escaped from this place. Could you get back inside?”
“Count on it.”
The Center, Blue Cove DE
When Sydney’s cellular telephone rang, an inner voice seemed to tell him who would be on the other end. “Hello, Jarod. I’ve been expecting to hear from you.”
“Sydney, I am sure you know the Center has taken a new kind of hostage, one they cannot afford to hold.”
“If you mean Mr. Adam Pierson, you may be right. Raines has been committing unspeakable acts on him just to measure how fast he heals. The process seems to be accelerating and there is no telling what he will do to this poor man next.”
“Do not misunderstand when I say this, Sydney. Pierson has friends who know where he is and are not happy with his captivity. Do not interfere with what is to come or you will be hurt.” The cellular connection was broken.
Sydney turned to face Broots and Miss Parker. “Well?” she asked.
“He’s found some of Pierson’s friends and they are coming. We are warned to stay clear of their rescue. I, for one, believe his warning.” Broots swallowed nervously; Miss Parker just smoked her cigarette and sneered.
Conner MacLeod had to admit he was lost. They’d made so many twists and turns, gone up and down stairwells and in and out of air shafts since they’d entered the main ventilation shaft outside the Center. The deeper they’d gone into the bowels of the Center, the more Conner felt surrounded by an evil miasma. Jarod’s sudden stop ahead did nothing to settle Conner’s nerves. He could see Jarod was speaking to someone.
“Angelo, I knew you’d be here waiting for me. This is Joe and Conner. They are here to get their friend. Could you lead them to him?” At Angelo’s enthusiastic nod, Jarod turned to Conner and Joe. “You both must go with Angelo to get Methos. Do whatever is needed to free him.”
“Where are you going to be?” Joe asked.
“Rescuing Methos is only part of what must be done. The remainder is finding your data file and destroying any copies that may have been made.
That’s my job.”
As they all knew there was little choice but to split up, the group separated. Conner watched as Jarod disappeared down another shaft, then caught up with the diminished group following Angelo. Down, down, down. Finally, they moved along a ventilation duct and looked through a vent into a room. Within the room was a bed and chained to that bed was Methos.
Methos roused from his recuperative stupor as he felt the presence of another Immortal. He could tell the Immortal was watching him from the air vent; that meant it might be a rescue. “The room is monitored by both video and sound” he called out. The door to the room burst open and a sweeper entered the room, his Uzi at the ready. As he passed the ventilation duct, Conner kicked the screen out and jumped into the room. The sweeper spun around, but before he could bring his weapon to bear, the katana flashed.
His hand, the weapon, and his head all fell to the floor. Methos struggled against his bonds as the Immortal came over to the bed, sword poised.
“The cameras and microphones have been compromised. As far as any knows, you are slumbering in your wee bed. Mind your hands and feet.” The katana flashed and the chains holding Methos parted. “Be not afraid. I am Conner MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, the senior and better MacLeod. Let’s get you out of this anteroom of purgatory.”
//So this is Duncan’s kinsman// Methos thought. //Are all highlanders so bold or is just the MacLeods?// Conner helped Methos climb into the vent where Dawson awaited. Methos held Dawson in a wordless embrace, amazed this mortal had risked so much for him. Once Conner joined them, Angelo led the group away from SL-26, and the object lesson Conner had left behind.
Broots had known the moment the video had been looped; Angelo was good but Broots was the best. He also knew this meant the strange man in the lab was being rescued, but that was only part of it. That data file had to be destroyed. Broots had already created a worm that would burrow through the computer systems, seeking and destroying all references to the Immortals and the Watchers. The problem was the original CD-ROM disk - Raines had that.
“Hello, Broots. How’s your daughter?”
Broots spun to face the voice. “Jarod! What are you doing here?”
“Come now, Broots. You know why I am here. I need that data file.”
“I knew you’d come, I knew it. I’ve already made a worm to eat the data file in the computer, but Raines has the CD.”
“Then I will just have to convince him to give it back, won’t I?” Jarod said. “Release your worm, Broots.”
Miss Parker stood before Raines’ desk. Both could see the monitor that showed the sleeping occupant of SL-26’s lab.
“So, Miss Parker, what do you want?” Raines wheezed.
“You have gone too far. You have brought a threat into the Center. This man has friends who will come to free him.”
“Let them come.” Raines gasped. “I have a full sweeper team outside that cell door waiting for them.”
“Then they are in the wrong place because we’re here with you.”
Both Raines and Parker turned to that voice. Jarod stood there, flanked on one side by Adam Pierson, supported by an older man, and on the other by another man in a long tan coat - and that man was holding a sword! Raines pressed a concealed alarm, summoning a sweeper team. As they burst into the room, Jarod threw himself atop Miss Parker taking her from the line of fire. Methos likewise shielded Joe Dawson. Conner’s sword swept around in a blur as he went on the offensive. Hands holding weapons flew from arms; screams echoed as blood fountained. One by one, the sweepers fell silent as Conner took their heads.
Conner walked over to Raines. “Give me the CD.”
Raines fumbled with the disk as he handed it to Conner. Around the room, the rest stood and surveyed the carnage. Miss Parker could not believe that a three man sweeper team, armed with automatic weapons, had been killed by one man armed with an ancient sword.
“Please, Miss Parker,” Jarod whispered to her. “Don’t do anything foolish. This man will kill you with any hesitation if he decides you are a threat.” He felt her muscles slowly relax as she abandoned whatever scheme she’d been considering.
Conner handed the disk to Joe. “This, I believe, belongs to you.”
“What about copies?”
Jarod spoke up. “There aren’t any. A worm in the central system has already destroyed any reference to Immortals and Watchers. The only information they have left is inside their heads.” He turned to Raines. “Surely, you can see the stupidity in pursuing these people. You cannot control them without really killing them, and then even they would be useless to you. Leave them be or they will sweep through the Center like a biblical plague.”
Conner placed the blade of the katana against Raines’ throat and said, “I’m not a vengeful man, but do not make me come back here again. If I do, you will truly understand what hell is.” With that, he gave a signal to end the bypass of the camera video. The monitor suddenly showed the grisly scene in SL-26. The entire six man sweeper team had been decimated - even in the black and white video it was evident the room was awash in blood and body parts. “Consider that whenever you think of us. I did that alone; imagine what several of us would be like.”
Without further word, the rescue team withdrew from the facility. Conner paused next to Miss Parker. With a devilish grin, he grasped her chin and kissed her, firmly and deeply, then he left the room. Neither Raines or Miss Parker moved from that office - the image on the screen and the dead in the room emphasized how close death had been to them.
Joe’s Blues Bar, Seacover WA
Conner, Methos, Jarod, and Joe sat around the table in the empty bar. The collection of empty beer bottle and glasses was mute evidence that they’d been gathered there for some time.
“I find the concept of immortality quite fascinating,” Jarod said. “Imagine witnessing the sweeping changes of history first hand.”
“Oh, it’s just like your own life, only much longer. I mean, you have seen the changes brought about by the space program and the computer revolution. We’ve just seen more of it. Take Methos here - he remembers the introduction of fire.” Methos choked on his beer as the others laughed, but then even he began to chuckle at the humor inherent in the remark “5,000 years old and I still get no respect.”
“Jarod, when we met, you said you were looking for your family and did not know whether they were your natural or adopted parents.” At Jarod’s nod, Conner continued. “It is much the same for us. All immortals are foundlings. None of us knows who are parents were or where we came from. Our identities, therefore, become a matter of personal allegiance rather than blood affiliation.”
Jarod thought about that for a moment, then said, “I can see how that would be true. You must be especially grounded in who you are deep down since, by necessity, you must flexible enough to change identities when needed. In that way, you are almost like a Pretender.” They all shared a toast to this commonality they shared, then Joe spoke.
“On a more serous note, we need to do something about the Center. Now that they know about Immortals and Watchers, we must find some way to keep an eye on them.”
Jarod grinned, “I have an idea on that...”
The Center, Blue Cove DE
“Welcome back, Broots. How was your vacation?” Sydney asked as he entered the computer center.
“It was great. We had such a good time.”
Miss Parker stood there watching for a moment, then her arm darted forward, grabbing Broots’ arm. Moving his sleeve aside, she asked, “Whatever possessed you to have such an ugly tattoo put on your wrist?”
International Airport, Seacover WA
Conner and Methos stood at the airport waiting for Conner’s flight to be called.
“Methos, tell me something. When you were at the Center, did you feel anything unusual?”
“What do you mean? That sadist made me feel lots of things, none of them pleasant.”
“No, I mean ... did you happen to feel one of us there? I could have sworn I felt the faint trace of another immortal.”
“An immortal or another pre-immortal? I still think we should have told him.”
“We never do tell them when we find them. I’ll keep an eye on him, though. And when it is time, I will be there for him.”
END
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Text: Copyright © 1998, Will and Trish Wilcox URL: http://www.geocities.com/area51/lair/6172/immortal_pretentions.html Email: [email protected]