Date: Mon, 10 Apr 1995 18:10:49 -600 Reply-To: Scarcrest Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Scarcrest Subject: ("In the End..." Part 2), Chapter 4 X-cc: Jonathan Haupt , Haydee Viardo , Todd Yates , Orrey Buttram , Brandy Lumpkins , Sarah Smith , Allen Monette , Elizabeth Donald , Marcus Mansfield Okay...this is where I shamefacedly admit that I accidentally deleted a couple of requests for files before filling them. If Zaxxon and Earl Adams could resend their requests...as well as anyone else...I'd be happy to do it *right* this time. Sorry for the header here. On with the story... ****************************************************************************** " I N T H E E N D . . ." ****************************************************************************** A Highlander/Batman Tale of the Future Jason R. Tippitt, 1994-95 Comments, suggestions, questions to: JTippitt@Utm.Edu (Flames will be deleted and given no credence, as is only proper) Part Two: "Gothic" Chapter Four ******* It was starting to rain a little bit as Benny Carbasa emerged from the DC subway for his rendezvous with Carl. He was running late, as usual. He Sensed the presence of another of their kind. "I'm sorry I'm late, Carl..." The Immortal who stepped from the shadows, scimitar in hand, was most decidedly *not* Carl. He was almost seven feet tall, with skin the hue of ivory. His face reminded Benny of that line from a 70s song--"he looked like a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of the pieces gone," the song had said. "Who're you?" "My name is Maximilan Volenta," the tall Immortal said. He threw his jacket into the sheltered area behind himself, under the ceiling of the Lincoln Memorial. "May I assume you are *not* Senator Carl Robinson?" "Benny Carbasa," he said, extending a hand. He hoped Carl got here soon-- Maximilian's blade severed the other Immortal's head before he even saw the swing. Maximilian had just enough time to worry what would happen if Carl detected the Quickening before the first wave of energy struck his body. The Quickening didn't take very long at all. ******* The red light on Senator Grayson's phone began to flash. The Senator looked up at the lobbyist from the NRA. "I'll take this all under consideration." He stood, shaking the man's hand. "If you'll excuse me, I have a phone call here that I *must* take." The lobbyist, a man in his sixties, smiled. "Remember, Richard, we got to keep this country strong." He gave Grayson a thumbs-up and walked out the door, leaning on his cane. Veteran of the Gulf War, he'd said. "Trust me, I intend to do that," Richard said. As the door shut, he picked up the phone. "Oracle. Talk to me." Barbara Gordon's voice sounded a bit on-edge. "There's been an incident at the Lincoln Memorial. Shall we investigate?" "Yes. Carl's supposed to be meeting someone there, according to what you found in his private files. If my suspicions are true...send the best we have, Oracle. This is a red alert." "Understood." Richard sat the phone down. He wondered if Jason Todd and his girlfriend were involved in this somehow. They'd be needed soon. His man in Langley had gone bad, and he was all tied up in this whole thing. Agent MacLeod was fucking around in Tibet, and that was endangering US/China relations. He'd even taken Agent Kent on a recon mission there. No one knew why, not even Grayson. He had an idea...but nothing to go on. Did motives matter at this point? Not as much as effect. And the effect could be another nuke. MacLeod needed to be sanctioned. He was like a rabid dog, following his own hidden agenda--massacring a child gang in New York was just the latest of many black ops he'd performed in the last 18 months. It looked like time to reactivate Task Force X. ******* Jason and Michelle had a relaxing dinner at a Chinese place in Queens. The wine helped take a bit of the edge off the events of earlier, but Jason still felt a bit too much like a caged rabbit for comfort. He still nearly jumped out of his skin when his car phone rang as they headed out to Jersey; the plan was to lay low in a safe house for a couple of days. "Jason here." "Jason, this is Vic. We need to talk, urgently." He sat his napkin down. "Um, good to hear from you, too. Just name a time and place..." "Ellis Island. Midnight. Bring your best formal attire. Can you make it?" "Sure..." "Bring your girlfriend, too, unless you want to leave her behind. I'm onto something really big." With that, Vic Sage hung up. Just like Bruce, he never said good-bye at the end of a conversation. Said it was bad luck. "That was Vic," Jason said, hanging up. "Sounds major. Asked me to bring my best formal attire...Guess that means we gotta go back for the gear, eh?" He pulled a tight U-turn on the Turnpike and headed back to the city. ******* Carl climbed out of the limo at the steps to the Lincoln Monument and waved the driver on. He was over thirty minutes late. He was afraid at first that Benny might have given up on him and bugged out, but within seconds he Sensed that another was there. Just in case, he laid a hand on his broadsword. He'd hated having to swap weapons, but for a man of six feet to disguise a scimitar under his trenchcoat would be very difficult. "Benny?" The tall, pale, scarred Immortal stepped out of the shadows. "He's indisposed," he said in a thickly-accented voice. Mediterranean of some vintage. "I am Maximilian Volenta of the Family Volenta. I am here for your life." "I trust you'll find me a better combatant than Benny," Carl said, tossing his trenchcoat aside and unsheathing his sword. "Is there a reason why you're here?" The taller Immortal slowly descended the steps, coming to equal footing with Carl, about ten feet away. "Why do we play this game? Power. The right to rule. The strongest survive. The Demon is the strongest, and those of us who serve him well will be rewarded richly." "The Demon? Who's that?" Carl was stunned. Good Immortals tended to stick together, but he doubted this Volenta fell into that category, and "The Demon" wasn't exactly a comforting name, either. It seemed logical that if the urge to fight *could* be overcome, it wouldn't be by the bad seeds... "I would tell you to ask Connor MacLeod, but as you won't be alive much longer, that would be pointless." Maximilian took his first swing. Carl blocked it easily. Above them, the skies began to crackle with lightning as the rain began to beat down ever more fiercely. The gods were angry tonight, it seemed. ******* To be continued... =========================================================================