========================================================================= Date: Fri, 22 Mar 1996 14:07:24 -0500 Reply-To: Mike Breen Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Mike Breen Subject: REVENGE AND REBIRTH - Third Interlude Rated 'R' for language BOSTON, MA, UNITED STATES - MARCH 1996 "Let's go over it again once more." "How long are you gonna keep me here, Detective?" "Until we find out the whole story, O'Brien." "I already told you. I was walking across the BU Bridge." "At two AM?" "Since when is that a crime?" D'Gornio said nothing, and Patrick continued. He said, "I was on the BU Bridge, when this guy started swinging at me with a sword. He was ready to chop my head off when you guys showed up." "We have witnesses who said you were fighting as well." "If I was, where's my sword?" "For all I know you dropped it into the Charles." "Then go find it." "And what will the taxpayers think? A team of divers out looking for a _sword_ that we don't even know was involved in a crime?" "So you have nothing on me, then." "That's... wait... Of _course_ we have something on you. You were fighting..." "Present your witnesses, then." "Now, about the girl..." "I _told_ you, there was no girl, or at least no one I know." "My own _people_ saw you take her by the hand." "They were wrong. I thought they were getting the situation under control, so I started going about my business. I had no idea I would get arrested. Again, present your witnesses and then we'll talk to my lawyer." "I know you know how to use a sword." "How?" "You have them hanging on the wall of your dojo. You teach samurai fencing technique at your school." "And I what? Carry a sword around underneath my coat?" "Maybe." "Give me a fucking break. Why would I do that?" "You tell me." "Detective, I think you've gotta stop watching those syndicated cult TV shows. Your imagination is running away with your investigation." "You watch your God damned mouth, O'Brien. We've got evidence..." "All circumstantial." "...and witnesses..." "Which haven't come forward." "...that says there's more to you than meets the eye. Now I've got another man who walked out of the city morgue two months ago in the other interrogation room who claims that we mistook him for someone else. Co-incidently he is the one caught hacking away at you with a sword. I would like to know _why_." "Ok, Detective. I'll tell you." Relieved that he was finally going to get some answers, D'Gornio leaned forward. Patrick looked from one of the uniformed guards to the other and whispered to D'Gornio, "This undieing man and I are aliens from the planet Ziest. We were banished to your world five hundred years ago. We have to fight eachother, and the last one of us will then have enough power to return to Ziest and overthrow the evil... um... general... uh _Katana_. Yeah, that's it. And the girl is a Ziestian princess who is my lover. So you see, I'm in a quandary. I cannot return to Ziest until I'm the last one, yet I don't want to return without her. We mean you no harm. Klaatu beratta nicktow. Live long and prosper." D'Gornio grabbed Patrick by the shirt and said, "I have a good mind to wipe this station up with you. As it is I'm charging you with disturbing the peace and I'm holding you and the other man overnight. In the morning, we'll have our witnesses." "Uugh," Bernard said as he picked up the phone. "Bernard? Rebecca." That snapped Bernard awake. "Rebecca?! We thought you were dead!" "Dead?" "Patrick will be so relieved!" "Listen, Bernard, I need you to go down to the Area A police station and get Patrick out of jail." "Rebecca? What happened?" "Patrick and VonHoffer got arrested. He called asking me to have you identify him as _not_ being armed. You of all people understand why he _can't_ be arrested." "On the condition that you tell me later what happened to you." "It's a deal," Rebecca said and laughed half-heartedly. Five men lined up. There were two scruffy-looking men on each end, Patrick, another man, and VonHoffer. The rotund little man who looked like he belonged more in Louisiana than Boston, and was proud to do his civic duty, pointed to Patrick and VonHoffer and said to the detective, "Those are them, Officer." "Are you sure?" "Uh-huh." D'Gornio said, "Number two and number four, step forward. The rest of you can go." "Except..." "Except what?" "Except that the first one wasn't armed. The second man just started attacking him." "Shit." He turned to the uniform next to him and said, "Release O'Brien. Bring VonHoffer back to his cell." Bernard exited the police station and walked over to the adjacent garage. He reached his car just as John McKinley was getting out of his. Staring at him, he said, "What the hell are you doing here, Johnny?" "Well, you may as well know, since you've probably already figured it out. I'm in VonHoffer's pocket. And being in his pocket has also made me his lawyer." "I thought so," Bernard said. "And I also knew you'd be here today, which is why I brought this." Bernard took a .38 out of his pocket and pointed it at McKinley. "I can't allow this to continue, Johnny. You're using our organization as the wrong kind of tool. It was never _meant_ to be a tool for revenge, but one of history." "What are you gonna do, Bernard? Kill me?" "If I have to." "I don't think you will. _You_ are just as guilty as I am. Your friendship with O'Brien isn't any different from my friendship with VonHoffer. _You_ have used our organization to tip the scales in O'Brien's favor on more than one occasion. I mean... just look at the CDRom scare. Most other Immortals don't know it even happened, but _you_ told O'Brien to go into hiding. If that had gone public, all non-involved Immortals would have been out in the open, exposed to the witch hunts, _except_ O'Brien. So go ahead, Bernard, kill me if you're so sure of your _own_ high 'n mighty opinion of how the Watcher organization should be used. But when you pull that trigger, you'll also be killing yourself." McKinley turned and walked away. Bernard stared at his retreating back, and couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger. What McKinley said had hit home. What _was_ the difference, really, between the two of them? Nothing, when you came right down to it. And besides, McKinley was his student, as much as Sam Leonard was Patrick's. Patrick stood on the BU Bridge, staring at the churning Charles River. Rebecca was at his side, her arm around his shoulder. Since Patrick had been released from jail, they hadn't been able to be physically apart. They _needed_ a simple touch, like a hand around the waist, on the thigh, around a shoulder, or intwined with another hand. "It's gone," Patrick said. "I'm sorry," Rebecca said. "I suppose I could dive into the Charles and look for it, but with those currents, it's probably half way towards the harbor by now. Four hundred years carrying it, all for this." "It was my fault. Instead of going to Joe's, I spent the last week and a half on Holy Ground. The nuns there let me stay if I helped them around the convent. I didn't want to be protected, but I didn't want to loose my head. After the fight, VonHoffer found me and told me that you were out for a good long while. I knew you weren't dead, because I would have felt it. And since VonHoffer knew where I was, I couldn't just _leave_ without him following me. I tried to leave more than once, but he found me each time. Then last night, he told me that if I wanted to find you to come here. I was just so surprised to see you that I couldn't contain myself. I'm sorry, Patrick." "It's not your fault, Rebecca. The sword isn't important." "But... that sword's _part_ of you." "Not as much as you are. When I thought he had gotten you, nothing, _nothing_ mattered anymore. Rebecca... I would offer my own head to save you. You're much more a part of me than even _I_ realized, and I can't stand the thought of living even a day without you. I would melt that sword down if it meant not having to face life alone." Rebecca rested her head on Patrick's shoulder and said, "They say that when two people marry, they become one soul. Over the last week and a half, I've begun to see just how true that is. Even the thought of your temporary death scared me. Those eleven days... I don't ever want to feel like that again." At that moment, Patrick knew, _really_ knew, that their marriage would last far longer than either of them had thought. Originally, both wordlessly assumed they would be married for a few decades before once again growing tired of eachother. But now, Patrick knew that however long they lived, decades, centuries, mellinia, she would always be with him. He put his arm around Rebecca's waist and said, "Come on. Let's go home." <<>> (c) 1996 Mabnesswords ---Mike Check out the new FASTER home of Other Days Interactive! http://www.channel1.com/users/mikeb/odays.html