Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1996 21:16:47 -0500 Reply-To: NSumsion@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "Nathan R. Sumsion" Subject: The Value of Friends (4/10) This story contains scenes of violence and the occasional naughty word. The Value of Friends part 4 of 10 by Nathan R Sumsion SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA. 1996 August smiled at the news he hears over the phone. "So you're sure that he lives at the address we lifted from Donaldson?" Conrad's voice responded, "Yes, sir. He matches the description you gave me exactly. He lives alone in a pale green stucco house. Damn ugly one too if you ask me." "Alone?" August asked, slightly disappointed. "Lives alone, yes," Conrad corrected. "But he doesn't spend his time alone. There are three regular visitors he entertains. Two of their names match some of those we got off of Donaldson's Rolodex. Jessica Frampton and Lamont Carmichael." August nodded, smiling again. He moved through the hotel suite, stretching in anticipation, gripping the hilt of his sword fondly. "Yes, this is perfect. The woman is an old lover of his. The other is a good friend." The Immortal set down his blade and turned his gaze out over the city, out towards the airport. The sun was bright and the sky clear. Conrad interrupted his contemplations. "I've been on surveillance for four days now. We making our move soon or what? You may not get old, but I do." "Yes, Conrad. We'll make our move tonight." "The woman?" "No, not her. We'll save her for last. We'll begin with Lamont. ******************************* Lamont stretched and rose from the table. The music in the club was at a near-deafening level, so he had to shout to be heard. Fortunately their hearing healed as well as other wounds to their body. Jacob thought his teeth were going to rattle right out of his mouth. Leave it to Lamont to pick their last stop of the reunion. "Well, got to say it was fun seeing you again, Jess." He screamed, smiling. He was quickly surrounded by the flow of people passing by their table out towards the dance floor, and he had to fight to remain standing where he was at. "Remember, when you get tired of that Chris guy, I'll be waiting for you." "Oh, God," she moaned. He reached out for her hand and, bowing, began to raise it to his lips. Jessica laughed as she tried to appear unimpressed, but Lamont was irresistibly charming. She opened her mouth to reprove him in some manner when, instead of kissing her hand, he yanked her up out of her seat and into his arms, wrapping them around her and kissing her soundly on the lips. Her muffled shriek of indignation caught the attention of a few passers-by, who smiled as both Jacob doubled over in laughter and even Gerald cracked a grin. Lamont, however, doubled over for a different reason thanks to Jessica's well-placed knee. "Oof!" Lamont protested, releasing her immediately. She sat back down in her seat, blushing furiously, but unable to be truly angry. And despite the pain in his eyes, Lamont's smile was as unabashed as ever. He said good-bye again and left. "He is impossible!" she declared to the other two men. "Seeing him again in ten years will be entirely too soon." ******************************* Lamont chuckled to himself as he walked towards the parking garage. "Gotta admit, I like Jacob's taste in women," he stated aloud, to no one in particular. He zipped up the windbreaker he was wearing and began to whistle to himself. It was fairly late, and there were few people about on the streets. The breeze blowing in from the bay carried a bit of a bite to it, despite the previous day's heat. He had just reached his car when he felt it: the presence of another Immortal. Lamont silently thanked Fate that he was able to reach his car, for he had left his blade inside it. The bouncers at the club would have obviously detected it when he was frisked. There was seemingly no one else in the garage, but he knew better. Another Immortal was nearby, and none of his friends would attempt to sneak up on him like this. He drew his blade out. "Who is there?" he called out, his smirk still on his face. "If you're looking for a ride, I'd suggest calling a cab." The other Immortal stepped out from behind one of the support columns. Lamont's eyes narrowed. He'd never seen the man before. The man's hair was strawberry blond, expensively styled, with a neatly-trimmed full beard. His suit was dark, loose, and his shirt collarless. All expensive and cut so that his motion was unhampered. "August Wilmont," the other announced. "Lamont Carmichael." Lamont noticed the man already held a blade in his hand. So it was to be a fight, after all. Lamont smiled grimly. He didn't mind and wasn't about to waste his breath trying to talk the other out of it. The two men circled each other, warily, trying to observe any tell-tale evidence of a fault or weakness. There were few cars left in the garage, so mostly empty space surrounded them. They were three levels above the street, with few other buildings nearby for the casual observer to notice them. In the space it took Lamont to blink, August was leaping at him, on the attack. Lamont met the attack, parrying easily and breaking away. August attacked two more times in rapid succession, each easily met and blocked. Both men wore identical expressions: excitement at an intense combat to come, played for the ultimate stakes. "Shit," Conrad's voice sounded in the earphone in August's ear. "We got spectators coming. Gotta go take care of 'em." August's smile lessened somewhat and his stance became more wary. Now he didn't have any back-up, he was totally on his own. Not that he was unduly concerned, but he still felt better having that safety net. Lamont launched on the offensive. His advantage had always lain in his speed and ability to quickly change the direction of his attacks. This time, however, he was obviously facing an opponent with speed to match his own. His attacks were equally blocked at every attempt. They were fairly evenly matched, trading attack and defense whenever the opportunity arose, but neither was able to penetrate the other's defenses. "Spectators are taken care of, sir," Conrad announced over the earphone. "How you doing?" "Managing," he wheezed as he blocked a blow that succeeded in nicking the tip of his nose. "Get your ass up here." "I'm coming," Lamont responding, mistaking the command to be meant for him. "Are you really so eager?" He kicked out with his right leg and simultaneously spun his upper body around in an arc. A risky move, but he was rewarded with the tip of his blade slashing through August's left shoulder. The Immortal cursed and backed away, but Lamont pursued quickly. "Heard any good jokes lately?" Lamont asked casually, trying to keep the fatigue he felt out of his voice. He had found in the past that his distracting banter could serve to frustrate many opponents. August didn't reply, but grimly kept up his defensive swordplay. He wasn't out of the fight yet, but it was beginning to look bad. He had assumed that since Lamont was still relatively young, he would be the easy mark. He was beginning to regret not having researched his opponent well enough, despite Conrad's pleas to speed things up. Then he saw the opening he had been waiting for, the thing that could turn the tide of the fight. He quickly burst on the offensive, wincing only slightly as Lamont again scored on his left shoulder, rendering his left arm all but useless for the moment. August wasn't concerned, though. He forced Lamont to make another step to his right, and Lamont slipped in the slick of oil left by some car. In the second Lamont stumbled before being able to regain his balance, August was on him. His first slash grazed the length of Lamont's sword arm. The second knocked the sword arm wide, moving the blade away from the body. The third attack, a thrust, pierced Lamont's chest and heart. Lamont slipped to his knees, a low moan escaping from between his lips. His eyes were starting to glaze over. "...heh... looks like the joke's... on me this time..." he whispered. He smiled. "Wait," August snarled, "you haven't heard the punch line yet." August's next strike was swift and final. In the shadows of the garage, unseen by any of the others, Monica shed a single tear at the onslaught of the Quickening. ******************************* End part four Please send any comments to me at NSumsion@aol.com =========================================================================