Date: Wed, 13 Sep 1995 09:57:11 -0500 Reply-To: "Robert A. Gansler" Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Robert A. Gansler" Subject: Rulers of the World (Part 2 of 16) Rulers of the World (Part 2 of 16) A Highlander/War of the Worlds Crossover A ContiNEWity Story by Bob Gansler ** 1989: First National Bank Duncan fumbled to get his bankbook out of his coat's inner pocket as he walked up to the bank teller. He greeted the lady behind the desk as she looked up to him. "Good morning, Jean" Jean smiled at Duncan. "Good morning, Mr. MacLeod. Which accounts are we going to deal with today?" Duncan handed the bankbook over to Jean. "Just this one. I'm in sort of a hurry today." Jean opened up the bankbook. "Ah, the trust fund that your grandfather set up for you. He must have cared for you very much." Duncan tugged at his collar and offered a sheepish grin. "Yes, good old Grampa MacLeod." He produced some checks and handed them to Jean as well. Jean gave Duncan a confused sort of smile. "You know, Mr. MacLeod. Most people take money out of trust funds. You seem to put more in than you take out. In fact, the fund has more than doubled since it became available to you. If you weren't such a valued customer, I would think that you might be involved in some questionable business." Duncan smiled "What can I say? I like the security of this bank." A scream came from someone by the entrance to the bank. Duncan turned around to see a masked figure burst into the bank brandishing a semi-automatic rifle. "OK, people. You know the drill. This is a robbery. Nobody tries to be a hero. Nobody gets hurt. It's that simple," the robber declared. The robber looked at Duncan. He felt the same sensation that Duncan did. He was another Immortal. The robber pointed the rifle at Duncan, "You're not feeling heroic today, are you?" "Just don't hurt anyone and we won't have a problem." Duncan responded. The robber sneered at Duncan and then turned his attention to the rest of the people in the bank. "Everybody, down on the floor. Except you, cutie." He pointed to Jean. "You, fill up three bags with money. Big bills only. And don't be smart and put one of those paint bombs in there as well." Everybody else in the bank got down on the floor. Nobody was feeling particularly heroic. The robber walked over to Duncan's prone form. "It would be very easy to take your head with you in this position, Mr. Immortal." "The name's MacLeod. Don't _you_ do anything stupid and make me hunt you down, punk." The robber bent down and talked softly in Duncan's ear as he put the barrel of the gun to the back of Duncan's head. "Punk?!? I'll have you know that John Martan has been around a few centuries. So don't insult me, especially with my gun pointed at your head." Jean had been dutifully filling some bags when fifty and hundred dollar bills. She put them on the counter. "There. They're full. Do you want any more?" Martan walked up to her and grabbed her by the hair. "No paint bombs or tracers, right?" "No, just the money. That's all." Duncan noticed that Jean was acting very bravely in this tense situation. Prior experience, perhaps. Martan continued to hold Jean by the hair as he poked through the bags with his gun. "Looks OK. Good job, sweetie." Martan threw Jean to the ground and she landed with a large crash. Jean got up, however, and looked at him with a defiant stare. Martan laughed, "Tough girl. I like that. Maybe in another time, another place." "I don't think so." Jean scowled and stepped on the alarm button on the floor. Suddenly, alarm bells started clanging and red lights started flashing. "Damn!" Martan exclaimed. "Who did it?" His gaze met Jean's. "So you wanna be the hero? Here's your reward." Martan grunted and fired a couple of rounds at her. "No!" Duncan screamed as a number of wounds on Jean's body started spurting blood. She looked at Duncan and then collapsed. Duncan stared at Martan with anger in his eyes. When Martan caught sight of Duncan's stare, he pointed the gun at Duncan's head again. "Don't even think about doing anything. I'm leaving and you're not following. Understand?" MacLeod scrambled to reach Jean's side. Her blouse was covered with blood. Duncan feared that it might have been too late already. His fears were lessened as he got a better look at the wounds. There were a lot of them, but none of them looked they hit any vital organs. Jean was unconscious but had a strong pulse and normal breathing. Blaring sirens could be heard as they got closer to the bank. "Somebody get some paramedics!" Duncan ordered. The shock of the situation seemed to be wearing off of some of the other people in the bank. A guard rushed outside to see if an ambulance was among the emergency vehicles that came screeching to a halt just outside of the bank. Moments later, a team of paramedics relieved Duncan of Jean. They worked quickly to care for her wounds. A couple of policeman approached Duncan to get his statement. "Look, I have to go. I'm in a hurry." Duncan told the officers "Why, were you part of it?" one of the officers asked. "Ask anybody here. Here's my card. If you need my statement, you can reach me there," Duncan said as he handed the policeman his card. Somebody spoke up. "Yeah, he wasn't involved. The robber seemed to be scared of him." As the policemen turned to see how was talking, Duncan took advantage of the opportunity and made a break for the door. He hoped that Martan did not have an escape vehicle nearby. Otherwise, Duncan figured that he had a good chance to overtake Martan and to take his head. Duncan sped by the officers outside and made his way down the street in the direction that Martan had headed. He strained to pick up the sensation of another Immortal, but he could not. "I'll find you, Martan, someday." * 1995: Blackwood Project Base In the underground base of the Blackwood Project, the team planned their next move. John Kincaid, Suzanne McCullough, and Debi McCullough paid close attention to the bearded man in front of them. Harrison Blackwood stood in front of a video screen. The screen displayed nothing but a blue background. "Let's go over the tape one more time." Harrison suggested. Suzanne McCullough cued up the tape in the video recorder. "It's ready." Harrison played the tape at normal speed. "This is the video from the news tonight. Pay attention." On the screen, the scene from a newscast of the sword-wielding man in a trenchcoat stabbing and beheading his assailants was played. John Kincaid cleaned his gun with a rag. "I don't see anything besides some maniac with a sword slicing some street punks. What's the big deal?" Harrison punched some buttons on the machine. "Let me adjust the picture first." He played the picture again, this time in slow motion and focused in one on of the victims. As the black-garbed figure was wounded, the tell-tale sign of an alien - phosphorescent green blood - could be seen. Debi pointed at the screen "Green blood! They're aliens." Harrison paused the tape. "Yes, they're aliens. But I'm more interested in the swordsman." Kincaid loaded a clip of ammunition into his gun. "So what? Some guy is doing us a favor." "That's not just 'some guy'." Harrison countered. "Listen closely." Harrison played the tape again with the volume amplified. As the swordsman went about his business, he could be heard to be saying something in a somewhat unfamiliar tongue. "OK, so he's not a local resident and speaks a different language. Again, what's the big deal?" "That's not just any language. That's the alien tongue." Suzanne nodded. It had certainly been a while since they had heard that eerie alien language being spoken. "Harrison, I don't see your point. So the aliens have a murderer of their own kind among them, that's good for us." "That's not just an alien. That's an old alien." "Old, young, middle-aged, who cares. An alien is an alien." "No, an _old_ alien. Like the ones we saw being executed a while back. Those were the ones we fought against before you joined us, Kincaid." "I thought you figured the newcomers killed off all of the old ones?" Suzanne asked. "I did, but apparently I was wrong. At least one survived, and he doesn't seem too friendly with the newcomers." "Like I said, this _old_ alien is doing us a favor." Kincaid smiled. "He's cutting down the ranks of the aliens, literally." Kincaid stood and put his gun in his holster. "So why are we bothering with him? Let him do his stuff; it means less for us to do." Harrison met Kincaid with his eyes "That may be true. However, I'm not sure if the old adage of 'The enemy of my enemy is my friend.' This alien may be a threat to humankind as well as the newcomers. He may be the greatest threat, if the newcomers are after him as well." Kincaid "So we let him do his stuff. When he's done, we can take care of him too." "We need to find out what his agenda is. Perhaps we can convince him to ally himself with us. He's fighting for his survival too. Maybe that's all he wants - to live. He could be a powerful ally for us." "This could be a big risk," Kincaid pointed out. "I know, but we need help in this fight. If this old alien is a threat to us, then we do as Kincaid suggested as 'take care of him'." Suzanne looked at Harrison with concern. "You certainly have become more vicious, Harrison. It sort of frightens me. I remember when you refused to use any weapon." "After we lost Ironhorse and Norton, I finally realized that we're in a war." Even as Harrison said it, he knew it was not the whole truth. The loss of two trusted teammates and friends was tough, but it was not the real reason behind his new attitude. "We have to fight to win." "You sound like a killing machine now," Suzanne noted. Harrison certainly had changed since this 'War of the Worlds' resumed. When the aliens had taken Karen McKinney from him, he had tried to bury his hate of them deep inside. When the team found her lifeless body after the aliens were done with her, Harrison could keep the hate buried no longer. The hate had time to fester in the months between that event and the arrival of the new group of aliens. Harrison was no longer a scientist trying to reason his way through this war; he was now a warrior willing to fight in it. "_My_ humanity won't mean much if the Morthrain destroy all of humanity." Everyone fell silent at Harrison's comment. Harrison slowly smiled. "But I'm not a machine, none of us are. We're all humans and this is our planet. We won't let the Morthrain rule our world." With Harrison's attempt at a pep-talk, the group's somberness was dispelled. "Where do we start?" Suzanne inquired. "Let's try the Marketplace." Harrison responded. "That's where he was when he was filmed." Bob G. EPRI HVAC&R Center rgansler@facstaff.wisc.edu "Reality - a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there." "dS >=q/T : It's not just a good idea, it's the law!" =========================================================================