Date: Sat, 3 Jun 1995 19:14:24 +0100 Reply-To: Grail Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Grail Subject: "Steele Blades" Part 5 Steele Blades A Remington Steele/Highlander crossover by Grail (Mark Overton) Part 5 The lift doors opened and Laura and Steele stepped out onto the carpeted floor, looking both sides warily. Steele had taken the duelling sword back from Laura and it was now stashed under his coat as they walked towards the agency offices. "This is ridiculous, you know," Laura said. "We'd feel it if there was another immortal around, wouldn't we?" "Maybe," Steele said. "I don't know about you, Miss Holt, but I'm feeling decidedly insecure right at the moment." They reached the agency doors and went inside. All was silent, unsurprisingly; the absence of Mildred was noticeable in the way the office seemed to be quietly disused. Laura looked at Mildred's desk sadly, missing the comfortable gossiping presence of the older woman. "What now?" she asked. Steele put the sword down on Mildred's desk. "A good question, Miss Holt. A cup of tea wouldn't go amiss right now." "I meant about Mildred, Mr Steele," Laura said reprovingly. "It's got to be that other immortal, Lentz, who kidnapped her. We need to know more about him. Where he lives, what he does." Steele nodded absently as he started making the tea. "Good plan," he agreed. Laura sat down at Mildred's desk and switched the computer on. "So let's see if this machine here can help us any," she declared, her fingers dancing rapidly over the keyboard. "Absolutely. One sugar or two?" Laura chuckled. "Are you listening?" "Of course, Miss Holt," Steele said courteously, bringing a cup of tea across and placing it in front of her. "There you are." "Thanks." She took a drink and looked at him seriously. "You know, there's one advantage of this immortality thing." Steele raised his eyebrows. "Oh?" "Sure there is," Laura nodded. "We can put some money in a bank, collect compound interest in two hundred years....money guaranteed." It was Steele's turn to laugh. "Always presuming there'll be money around, Laura." She shrugged. "There'll be something. But will there be jobs for two immortal private eyes in the year 2184?" "There'll always be something to do," Steele said confidently. He went across to the tea-making things and began to make himself a cup. "Besides, there'll always be each other, won't there?" Laura looked at him warily. "Will there?" He turned, looking hurt. "Laura, is this another interrogation?" "No, of course not," she responded. "But...when we reach our hundredth birthdays together....will you leave? What about our two hundredth? When are you going to grow tired of me?" Steele picked up the sugar bowl and toyed with it absently. Then he looked at her sincerely. "Laura, the day I grow tired of you is the day I'll kneel down and let you take my head." She smiled tiredly. "I wish I could believe that." "Believe it," Steele said simply. Laura looked at him. "Mr Steele, you know - " The computer screen erupted in flames with a roar, smoke curling towards the ceiling, the blast catching Laura right in the face. She was thrown back out of the chair to crash onto the floor unmoving. Steele dropped the sugar bowl and rushed over to her, feeling for a pulse. Her eyes were closed and he felt nothing; her clothes were shredded, and her skin blackened from the blast. "Oh, Laura," Steele said sadly. Lifting her in his arms, he took her over to the couch and laid her carefully down. Looking down at the still motionless body, Steele experienced a moment of frightening terror that the immortality thing had been a clever trick. Then he felt something stirring inside Laura, something that echoed within his own frame. He touched her skin and withdrew hastily as a spark danced between her arm and his finger. Laura's chest heaved suddenly and she started to breathe again, irregularly and shallowly but definitely breathing. Steele's shoulders slumped with relief. He looked back to where the smoking computer was beginning to die down and saw the black package resting at the base of the desk. It was on the opposite side of the desk from the agency entrance, so both he and Laura had missed it when they first entered. Crossing the office floor, Steele picked it up and opened it cautiously; he had no desire to experience the same thing as Laura. The package contained a small guidebook for a department store, Hastings, in the centre of the city. Steele flicked through it absently, frowning; he could see no reason for it to be there. Then the last sentence on the last page caught his eye :- ...and even today the owner of Hastings, Mr Christopher Lentz, lives on the very top floor in his penthouse suite... Steele looked at this sentence thoughtfully. Then he picked up the duelling sword and left the agency office. "Here she is, my lord," Yevgeni announced as he entered the main room of the penthouse. Lentz turned and a satisfied smile spread across his thin face as Mildred was brought into the room, a dazed smile on her face. She had clearly been drugged, for Yevgeni's associate was having difficulty steering her properly. "Excellent work, Yevgeni," Lentz noted. Dressed in a silk kimono, he was sitting on the sofa with one arm around Sarah, who was quietly reading a magazine without looking up. "Put her in the back room, we'll use her as a hostage." "Yes, my lord," Yevgeni acknowledged, nodding to his associate. Lentz rose. "I'm going to prepare. Steele and Miss Holt will undoubtedly be arriving shortly, in order to rescue their esteemed secretary. Have you found out anything more about Duncan Macleod?" Yevgeni nodded. "His girlfriend's friend died of cancer today. They're preparing to go back home as we speak. Macleod spoke to Steele and Miss Holt earlier and presumably told them all the Rules. He hasn't had time to train them, though." Lentz nodded. "Excellent. Alright, I'm going to prepare. If Steele and Miss Holt turn up, show them in." "Yes, my lord," Yevgeni nodded. Lentz turned and walked through one of the pairs of double doors in the circular room. As the lock clicked, Yevgeni crossed to the sofa and seated himself beside Sarah. She looked at him without interest. "Listen to me," Yevgeni said urgently, his Russian accent gone. "I've been working for the Agency. We need your help again." Sarah's eyes widened. "The Agency? You people are the ones who - " Yevgeni held up a hand to stop her. "I know, I know. We needed a way to distract Lentz, he was holding up our operation. It was unorthodox, but while he was searching for you we managed to shut down his gunrunning business. That bit's complete now, but we want to get you out permanently." Sarah looked sad. "That's not possible." "It is if you help," Yevgeni said persuasively. "Listen to me, Sarah. You used to be a damn good agent until Lentz got to you. We can set you free, make sure he never finds you again." "Why should I want to leave?" she said listlessly. "I have everything I need here." "You don't," Yevgeni scoffed. "You don't have your freedom. And you don't have your spirit anymore." Sarah looked at him, and the Russian saw a flash of anger in her eyes. "Christopher provides everything for me now, Yevgeni." "There. Anger. You're not entirely crushed. Sarah, come back. It's still not too late. We need you back with us, working for us. There are a lot of bad things happening in the world out there." Sarah shook her head sadly. "No, Yevgeni. You go your way without me. I'm out of the business now." She ached all over. That was Laura's first thought as she opened her eyes. She was staring at the ceiling of the agency offices, lying on the couch at the side of the office, feeling oddly sticky as if someone had covered her in glue or something. She raised a hand and touched her cheek; her fingers came away slightly blackened. Rising, Laura looked at herself in a convenient mirror and gasped. Her hair had been singed, her skin blackened, and the front of her blouse ripped to shreds. She remembered the computer exploding. "Must have died again," she muttered to herself. She turned round, anger building. "Mr Steele, where are you?" Silence replied to her. A splash of colour caught her eye suddenly; Laura crossed the office and picked up the guidebook for Hastings. She flicked through it absently, wondering where Steele had gone. Suddenly, she realised the duelling sword was also absent from the desk. Before she could do anything, sensations shivered through her. Laura found it suddenly difficult to breath without concentrating; almost against her will, she turned to the entrance of the agency. "Good morning," said Duncan Macleod. Laura relaxed in relief. "Come in, Mr Macleod." Duncan entered. He looked at her askance. "What happened to you?" Laura shrugged. "I died," she said simply, indicating the exploded computer terminal. "My sympathies." Duncan looked around. "Where's Steele?" "Gone off somewhere," Laura frowned. "Don't ask me where, because I don't know." Duncan opened his trenchcoat. "I brought some presents." He took two swords out from inside the coat, one older and one brand-new, both glinting sharply in the light from the office windows. Laura took the older one and looked at it, impressed; the blade was scratched and nicked as if through constant use, the grip worn by centuries of use. "A Highlander's sword," Duncan said. "It belonged to a friend of mine a long time ago." Laura hefted it. "It's heavy. Is it a claymore?" "Not quite. It comes close." Duncan put the other sword, the new one, down on the desk. "And that's a fighting sabre. Rare." "Thanks," Laura said sincerely. "Has Lentz been around yet?" Duncan asked. "I asked a friend. He confirmed it. Lentz chooses the young, the inexperienced, those he thinks haven't learned to fight properly yet." "People like me and Mr Steele," Laura nodded. "Yes." She looked round the office and sighed. "I wish I knew where he was," she complained. "Our secretary's been kidnapped, our computer destroyed, and all that's left is this guide for some kind of department store." Duncan's face hardened. "What store?" "Hastings," Laura shrugged. She stared at him. "Is it important?" Duncan nodded grimly. "Oh yes, it's important. Lentz owns and runs Hastings. Steele's gone to find him." Laura's eyes widened. She picked up the highland sword and started for the exit. Duncan put a hand on her arm. "Wait. I should - " "No!" Laura said, too sharply. Her expression softened. "No. Thank you, Mr Macleod, but we all have to learn sometime. Mr Steele and I have to fight our own battles." She looked around the agency. "Make yourself at home." Without looking round, she left the offices. Duncan watched her go, then sighed and left as well. He had to pick up Tessa and go to the airport. One day, he mused, he would find out if they had survived. He fervently hoped they would. =========================================================================