Date: Thu, 8 Feb 1996 17:20:06 -0700 Reply-To: Hank Wyckoff Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Hank Wyckoff Subject: (10D/10) The Duplicity -- HL Posting The Duplicity (10D/10) -- By Henry Wyckoff A Crossover between Highlander/Forever Knight/X-Files/A Poem by Rudyard Kipling/and Sharpe's Rifles A continuation of When the Veil is Lifted This concludes The Duplicity, and leads into part three of the five part cycle. THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN SPLIT IN ORDER TO OBEY THE MAXIMUM LINE LIMIT RULE Cancerman paced back and forth. He was a dead man. Nothing worked, and he was going to get raked over some real coals. "Hello, Halscombe," smiled Axer. Cancerman spun around like he'd been stung. "You! How did you get in here?!" "You know better than that..." Axer knew he was going to get melodramatic, but he also knew that melodrama -- like cliches -- could sometimes be used very effectively. All the vampires had to do was learn that little trick. "You've seen my actions for too long. I can sneak into any place, kill anyone, and pry out any... secret..." His hand grabbed Cancerman's and held it flat on the table, his fingers spread out. "Just tell me what I need to know." Cancerman was silent. Axer kneed him so hard in the groin that he sank to his knees, and his face turned pasty white -- he didn't have too much of a tan to begin with. "You know, Halscombe, I think turnabout is fair play." He pulled out some handcuffs and spreadeagled him face down over the table, using ropes to secure the cuffs to the table. "You told Mulder that torture should be based off of past words; I think it should be based off of past deeds. "I'll be generous enough to give you a choice, since there's two different ways to get screwed. There's door number one," he presented a hand-powered drill with a long, wicked-looking wood screw attached to it. A bag of similar screws came with it. "Or door number two," he produced a long rubber object covered with short spikes. Cancerman's eyes opened widely as he screamed, "One! ONE!!!" Axer had to fight hard from laughing out loud, "Oh, I forgot to mention that you pick the torture that comes *last*!" Cancerman's screams were unheard, but certainly louder than Mulder's ever were that night in Toronto. ************************************************************ "Nick!" exclaimed Nat, when Nick returned to the precinct with Tracy. "We were worried about you!" "So was I," he muttered under his breath. "Nick!" called the captain from his office. "Get your butt over here! You too, Tracy!" The jolly old man didn't look so jolly this time. Shaking his head, he and Tracy made their way over to the office where the captain slammed a file onto the table. "I have a new case for you. Look at it." They both looked at it, and scratched their heads in puzzlement. The captain continued his ranting. "This just great! First we have eyewitness accounts of swordfights in the airport, and now we have a guy who was trapped by a few 800 pound engines and got killed because he was holding a hammer up over his head with a rope in his mouth, and he let go!" Nick shook his head, then he saw the rune. //Please tell me it's over...// "Do you recognize anything, Nick?" asked the captain. *********************************************************** It was a week after the episode in the church. Nick and Tracy had gone back to their police work. The FBI agents had left to their own work. Sharpe, Duncan, and Richie had taken a plane to Paris -- LaCroix still got giggles when he remembered the episode in the airport. Axer and Coleen had stayed in the city for a few more days, then they split ways. Apparently, when a fledgling immortal made a first kill -- whether it be mortal or immortal -- the teacher made the student fly solo for a while. He remembered that scene, and it still gripped at his heart... ..."Why?" Coleen was visibly upset. "What have I done?" Axer had much less of a poker face than he did years ago. "It's the way. You made your first kill. It's for the best. I've taught you enough of the basics -- of life, and not just the sword -- and now you have to grow your own wings. I'll only hold you back." Sobbing, with a large part of anger in her face as well as loss, she left the Raven. When she was gone, Axer lost his composure and found solace in a bottle of scotch. He didn't even bother to use a jigger glass. Tears flowed openly down his face, and his breath came in strangled chokes as he forced himself to bottle his emotions. LaCroix figured enough was enough. He walked over to a group of vampire ladies who were busy gossiping about useless things -- clothes, makeup, musicians -- and made his presence known. They ceased their conversation and looked up with him in great respect... and fear. These vampires were only in their third decade -- and perhaps five to ten years as vampires. "Don't stop your conversation on my account," he smiled grandly. "I just thought I'd point someone out to you all." He pointed to where Axer sat, alone in a dark corner. "And to answer your unspoken question, he isn't a vampire -- he's just... experienced." He left them to make of that as they will. One of them, Irish by birth, with raven-black hair and a blue eyes, silently approached him with a predatory look in her eye. She sat down next to him, and instantly assessed the situation. "She dumped you, didn't she?" she said -- she honestly didn't know what had occurred only a few minutes ago. When he turned to face her, his eyes were as furious as a vampire's, and it startled her. It was obvious that he was restraining himself from grabbing his now-visible sword, and it was with even greater difficulty that he calmed himself down. "No... I had to send her away. And it wasn't what you think. She was my... daughter." It threw her back. He had a thick beard on his face, but he looked to be no older than twenty. She looked in his eyes once more, and saw great age and felt power in them. She decided to stay and see how this gamble would turn out. LaCroix didn't leave hints for nothing... ...LaCroix wiped a tear from his own eye. He forced the memory from his mind and looked at the gift that Axer left for him. It was an exquisitely wrapped package with a hand-made card. He opened the card, and it read: -- LVCIVS RVFIO LONGINVS -- AEDIFICATIONE TVA The package contained a recently-published book, titled "Poems of Rudyard Kipling." A cloth bookmark was sewn into the binding. He opened it at the bookmark, and found a poem titled "Tomlinson," and began to read. The door opened. "I wondered when you would show up," smiled LaCroix. "I still have your book." "Thanks for keeping it safe," smiled Powys, sitting down. "You know, the game's not over. There's one more round to play." LaCroix nodded, his eyes still scanning the book. "Why don't you come with me? It's winter there, and the sun won't shine for another three months." LaCroix looked up from the book. *********************************************************** This concludes The Duplicity *********************************************************************** ** e-mail: wyckoff@ag.arizona.edu ** homepage: http://ag.arizona.edu/~wyckoff ** My fanfics are now archived in pkzip format on my fanfic page ** at http://ag.arizona/edu/~wyckoff/fanfic.html ** Also: check out the X-files creative archive at Gossamer ******************************************************************* ** ERROR: You just deleted 6 years of work -- MERCY KILL ? ******************************************************************* =========================================================================