Date: Fri, 5 Aug 1994 20:00:51 GMT Reply-To: NICK_BERNSTEIN@fourd.com Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: NICK BERNSTEIN Organization: 4th Dimension BBS Subject: _SHADOWS_ 3 of ?? _Shadows_ 3 of ?? by: Nick Berntein ( NICK_BERNSTEIN@fourd.com ) =============================================================================== Duncan and I had chatted for about an hour over cappuccinos, when I decided to go home. I made my farewell, and started home. As I walked, I saw a flicker of steel in an alley...I was curious, and in no particular rush to be home, so I walked over and went inside. "Die, Abomination", a voice said from behind. I dove forward, and under the blurring silver of a bastard sword. Doing another somersault, in which I managed to also turn around, I stood face to face with my mortal opponent. As MacCleaod recommended, I looked at his wrist. So these watchers he spoke of _Were_ real. Having no real interest in losing my head, I made quick work of the amateur. Unfortunately, I bent down to see if I had killed him, and left my fingerprint on his bloody neck. I continued my walk home, showered, and took a short nap. 8/2/94, 11:00pm --------------------------------------------- I woke up around eleven, and flipped on the tube, turned to channel five and started to watch the news. "I don't know Why anyone would kill _My_ son. He was such a _good_boy_" a woman sobbed. Next the news anchor broke in, "Reportedly, The police obtained fingerprints, and are trying to find "_Richard Peal_", their chief suspect. The body had been 'run through, probably with a long knife or sword of some sort.' said police commissioner John Richards." "Shit." I groaned. * * * 8/3/94, 12:00am ----------------------------------------------- "HEY! Hey, man, commere'!" "Yeh?" "I need some I.D." "What makes you think I got any, man?" "This does.", I said quietly, and tapped three hundred dollars against my steering wheel. "I don't got none, but if you wait here, man, I can get someone who does...but it'll cost ya fifty." "Sure," I said, "Twenty now, thirty when you get back." I smiled. "Fine." The poorly dressed bum said. *This was fairly inconvenient*, I thought to myself,*oh well*. About twenty minutes later, the man was back, along with a very well dressed Hispanic. I paid the first guy the thirty dollars I owed him. "You want some ID?" "Yep." "Why?" "That's for _Me_ to know." "How do I know you're not a fibbie*?" "You don't." "...Fine. What do you need?" "Birth certificate, License, couple of credit cards...they don't have to work...have them expired or something." "OK, one fifty for the Certificate, thirty for the license, and ten for the credit-cards. Do you have some pictures?" "Yes. Here's one for the license." "Meet me here, in twenty minutes." "OK." "Oh...What's my new name?" "Whadda' ya' want?" "Michael Smith." "Ok." I had now begun a new life, all over again. Cont...... *Fibbie = slang FBI agent ******************************************************************** System: fourd.com Phone: 617-494-0565 Cute quote: Being a computer means never having to say you're sorry ******************************************************************** =========================================================================