Date: Mon, 20 Nov 1995 23:03:50 EST Reply-To: Vi Moreau Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Vi Moreau Subject: Elena Part IV Elena (Part IV). FYI translations: 'escoses' - Scotsman 'ayudame' - help me Duncan had called several local hotels, looking for Elena, without success. Eventually he gave up, but couldn't sleep, so about four in the morning the presence of an Immortal took him to his feet at once. He quickly pulled on some pants and caught his hair back in a ponytail. Richie would call first except in a dire emergency, and he found himself wishing it were her. He knew she was miserable, and felt she could use someone to talk to. He very much wanted to be that someone. But even if it was her, she might be more interested in fighting than talking. Of course, it could be any of a dozen people who really wanted his head. He picked up his katana, feeling its reassuring weight in his hand. There was a banging on the door. "Mac, let us in! Mac!" It was Richie, but what did he mean by 'us'? He opened the door, and Richie rushed inside, partly dragging Dawson with him. Dawson was holding his arm across the front of his body, in obvious pain. "Mac, Dawson is in big trouble! An Immortal is after him. She really wants his ass!" "I told him not to bring me here, MacLeod, but he wouldn't listen. I'm sorry." Duncan sighed, and deliberately turned to Richie. "What happened?" "You know that Elena Duran? She tried to kill Dawson. Mac, she broke two of his fingers, and would have done more if I hadn't come along! Like tortured him! Go on, Dawson, tell him." He prodded Dawson, who had taken a few steps inside and now turned back to the door. "Nah, I better go. I need to get this seen anyway." "We can splint your hand or something. Just tell Mac what you told me, come on!" Duncan turned to the window. He didn't want to talk to Dawson, wanted no part of this. "I told you he's not interested, Richie. Let's just go, OK? Or I'll go by myself." "Don't be stupid, Dawson. You go out there alone and she'll nail you for sure!" Dawson started moving stiffly toward the door. "Mac, come on. For God's sake, she'll kill him. Look, all you have to let him stay here for a few hours, just until I find her. You don't have to do anything else." Duncan turned back to Dawson and was surprised to see fear. "Let me see your hand." "No, don't bother yourself, MacLeod." He put the katana down. "Come on." While he looked at the broken, swollen fingers, he asked, "What's this about torture?" Dawson shook his head, but Richie was clearly exasperated. "Tell him, Dawson!" "It's Watcher business." He sighed, obviously still reluctant. He winced when Duncan touched his hand. Finally, shaking his head, he said, "Somebody's been going around killing Watchers, lots of them. Twenty-two in the last sixteen months. They were all ultimately killed with a sword, but some of them had other serious injuries--broken bones, knife wounds. We figure they were being 'questioned' to lead the killer to other Watchers. But we didn't have a clue until tonight. Richie...well, he saved me from more than just getting killed." "And Elena Duran is doing this?" Duncan felt hurt, surprised, almost betrayed. There had to be some explanation. "Yeah," Dawson nodded. "I know you like her, Mac, but I saw her myself. It's her alright." "Why?" asked Duncan. "I don't know for what reason, but she wants to destroy the Watchers. I tried to tell her about the Hunters, I think that's who she's really after, but she'd heard it all before and wasn't interested. She took all my disks, even some I'd hidden at home. All she needs is the key, and eventually, believe me, I would have given her anything she wanted. She meant business." Dawson was breathing heavily. "I can splint that for you, but you really need a doctor to set them." He went to the kitchen for supplies. "Maybe she has a reason." "Mac, sure she has a reason, but how can you justify killing and torturing people?" Richie headed for the door. "I'm going out and find her." Duncan and Richie felt the buzz simultaneously, coming from directly underneath them. "No need," said Duncan. Richie went to the elevator. "I got her!" Duncan was worried. "Wait--I need to talk to her, Richie." There was a warning tone in his voice that Richie either didn't hear or ignored. "No way, Mac. Look, no offense, but I don't think you're thinking with your head here, alright? Besides, I challenged her, and she's mine!" He was angry. "I let her off once, and maybe I shouldn't have. Now I can fix my mistake." Duncan intercepted Richie. "I said, leave her to me!" He was furious that Richie didn't seem to understand...But this was unfair. "Richie, this is very important to me," he added in a softer tone. "I can't..I won't let you fight her. Just leave her to me." He paused. "Please." Duncan looked at his friend. Richie shook his head. "Mac, she's a killer." "I know. I'll take care of it." Richie thought it over, finally softened, nodding. "Alright, but watch yourself." Elena pushed open the dojo doors, sword in hand. She saw him standing in the shadows at the other end of the large, dark room. He was backlit by an elevator, and she could clearly see the outline of his sword--it was slightly curved. A katana? He moved to his left into the darkness, and she was suddenly afraid. Would she have to fight him in the dark, in this strange room? Wouldn't she get to talk to him, to see his face? She opened her mouth to call out, and the lights came on. Duncan MacLeod stood across the room. The first thing she noticed was the katana in his hand. The second was the fact that he looked like he had just gotten out of bed--his hair was tousled and he was wearing nothing but sweatpants. Her lungs felt too small. His eyes were shiny but seemed colder than she remembered. "What do you want?" he asked. Her sword was a magnificent Toledo broadsword, and she held it with practiced ease. Her black hair was caught back behind her neck, with stray curls framing her face. She was dressed in a navy catsuit and he could clearly see the lean muscle in her arms and legs, the swell of her breasts. She was excited, breathing hard. Her body was breathtaking. "I want to talk. I thought that's what you wanted." Elena looked toward the ceiling for a moment. She thought she could still feel another Immortal above her--Richie? then dismissed it. She had enough to worry about right here. Duncan MacLeod took up her whole field of vision. She approached him, started to speak, but didn't quite know what to say. "I think...I.." She swallowed heavily. I think you're the one I came to see." Duncan felt almost in a daze. He nodded, never taking his eyes off her face. She looked to be on the verge of screaming or crying or fighting; he couldn't tell which. He really, really didn't want to fight her, but he had to know the truth. "Richie and Dawson say you're a coldblooded killer." It was more of a statement than a question. There was a long silence. "They are right, 'escoses.' I am a killer. We are all of us killers. But we kill to survive. These Watchers, they hunt us like animals and shoot us down like rabid dogs, and for what? Because they think we are subhuman." "Not all of them, Elena. They don't all think that!" "Why not? Because they say so, to save their miserable lives?" He moved closer, aware of the blade in her hand. "You know if you hurt someone enough they'll tell you the truth. You of all people can tell when they're telling the truth and when they're lying. You're just not hearing it! You're just torturing and then killing them!" He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. Elena shuddered. "I don't hurt anyone for pleasure! I need information that they won't give me. And yes, I will continue to kill them all! They killed Maria, they killed Gordon, Darius..." "I know about Darius. He was a friend of mine, too. How can you carry on this vendetta in his name? He would never, ever have agreed with what you're doing! Never!" "This is not about revenge!" She thought of Maria, calling to her, dying, "!Elena! !Ayudame! !Por el amor de Dios!" She closed her eyes. In a more normal voice, she said, "It is not just about revenge. I want to stop them, and this is the only way I can. Instead of opposing me, you can join me in getting rid of them." Duncan wanted to be on her side, but she was wrong! "No, I couldn't. It would be killing innocent people along with the Hunters." He tried again. "Think of what you're doing, Elena. I'm not the greatest fan of Watchers, but surely they don't deserve to die for what they're doing." He was unyielding, and Elena gave up any hope of convincing him. Dawson was his friend, and he just didn't understand. She sighed, defeated. "Will you give me the Watcher?" Duncan shook his head. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was to kill her. He was remembering Nefertiri, and felt sick. No, not again! "Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, I will take your head, and then I will finish what I started." She brought the hilt of the sword up to her lips and kissed the cross there, whispering, "Ayudame, Dios mio." "Elena, please, listen to reason." These were the same words he had used on the Egyptian, and he vividly remembered the outcome. Maybe this time he could say or do something else...But she stepped forward, her sword ready. "We don't have to do this," he whispered. She took one long look around the room, noting the obstacles in the way. Then she attacked. He pressed her hard from the beginning--no feinting or testing. If he had seemed reluctant to fight, she sure couldn't tell that now. After the first rush, Duncan could see he would not easily wear her out or disarm her. Her whole being was focused on the fighting, and she knew what she was doing. The fact that she was left-handed made it slightly harder for him. For her part, Elena realized after he had drawn blood twice that he was faster and more skilfull than she thought. He also had a longer reach, but she was lighter and just as fast, maybe faster. If she could keep him moving, she might have a chance. They were both too busy concentrating to even speak. Blood splattered onto the wooden floor, and Duncan, barefoot, slipped and lost his balance. Immediately the point of her sword was coming toward the base of his throat, and there was no avoiding it! But it shifted at the last minute and went into his shoulder instead, deeper, deeper...Duncan cried out in pain, retreating rapidly and windmilling his katana in front of him. Elena moved forward slightly. She couldn't get past that sweeping blade, and she needed to catch her breath. What happened? She had him!But her sword seemed to move to the right by itself. No! That wasn't it. She simply didn't want to kill him, she couldn't kill him.This revelation dazed her slightly, and cost her. Recovering, Duncan got past her guard and slashed at her chest. He felt the blade cutting through cloth and skin. He then withdrew slightly to try talking to her once more. "Elena, listen to me!" he panted. "We can..." She moaned audibly, moving her hand up to stem the blood flow. Her breast was in agony, but she saw her chance as he hesitated. However, she misjudged her lunge and he deflected her sword, leaving her whole front exposed. She saw rather than felt the katana slide into her left side. Without even thinking, she stepped forward, impaling herself further, and straightarmed him. The katana rose slightly but caught against her lower rib and he lost his grip on it as he fell back. Just as she brought her sword around and into his chest, she felt the jolt of pain and screamed. She lost her sword, her vision went grey, she sank to her knees. With one corner of her mind she heard him grunt and crash to the ground. Her whole world was agonizing pain. She had no idea where he was or where her sword was, but she knew where his sword was. If she could only get it out, pull it out of her body. She clawed at it frantically, desperately, not even thinking about what he was doing, trying to concentrate through the pain. She pulled at it and screamed again. The second jerk pulled the katana free, and she fell down heavily, face first, on top of it. The dojo was silent. Duncan lay on his back, her sword in his heart. He died instantly. Elena took a few minutes longer to bleed to death. End of Part IV copyright by Vivian Moreau, 1995 =========================================================================