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Survivor Part 3 (1/8)
Kay Kelly (wilusa@EARTHLINK.NET)Wed, 4 Apr 2001 04:33:21 -0400
DISCLAIMER: Highlander and its familiar characters are the property of Davis/Panzer Productions; no copyright infringement is intended. Please archive at 7th Dimension. Info for archiving: Title: Survivor Part 3 Rating: PG Characters: Jacob Kell and his posse, Duncan MacLeod, Methos, Joe. Summary: A retelling of the story of Endgame from Manny's point of view, with lots of interpretation. *Author's Note: At the end of Part 2, Manny had escaped Kell's "Last Supper" and set out to steal some less conspicuous clothes...* ****************************************************** A half hour later I was wearing a flannel shirt, jeans and raincoat stolen from a thrift shop. The cutlass was concealed, and I was walking briskly along the street. Planning to get farther away from Jacob, then spend the night in a bus shelter. Suddenly, the sky was lit up by another burst of fireworks. This one across town, and clearly on a rooftop. A Quickening. Far as it was from me, I dove for cover in a doorway. When I'd caught my breath, I watched the light show with my mind in a whirl. A Quickening on a rooftop in New York? Even late at night, that was outrageous! These people were insane. It was 1985 all over again. I knew Jacob wasn't involved. He couldn't even have gotten there, let alone been up to a swordfight. And yet there had to be a connection. Immortals didn't throw caution to the winds like this unless they were desperate. If it wasn't Jacob, it had to be the MacLeods. *** I'd robbed the till of that thrift shop. So come morning I was able to buy newspapers, didn't have to try to swipe those thick Sunday editions from newsstands. I camped out in Penn Station to read them. Back in '92, the Watchers--the ones who didn't know about the Sanctuary--had speculated that Connor MacLeod might have persuaded Duncan to take his head. He hadn't done it then; but now I thought that was the most likely explanation of what I'd seen. There was, however, a chance that if Duncan had absolutely refused to do it, Connor had beheaded *him*, to deny Jacob his Quickening. I was surprised by the depth of my respect for Duncan. I really wanted him to be alive. I had to hunt for news of a rooftop killing. I almost gave up, thinking it hadn't made the deadline. But I finally saw a small item. The body of a murdered man had been found on the roof of the Phoenix Hotel after "a minor electrical explosion and fire caused by a satellite dish." This death, like the one in the antique-shop loft, was blamed on drug dealers; the article implied stray bullets had damaged the satellite dish. There was no mention of a severed head. The dead man was described as Caucasian, with light brown hair and blue eyes. When I'd glimpsed Connor MacLeod in the Sanctuary, he¹d had long hair and a beard. They were light brown. And while Duncan was beating the shit out of me, I'd observed that his hair and eyes were as dark as mine. I let out the breath I'd been holding. But I knew it must have been hell for Duncan, having not only to kill his friend, but leave the body. Firefighters had gotten there quickly. I was sure he'd only escaped because he didn't have to drag himself any farther than a rented room in that hotel. At the hour it happened, it was a safe bet that New York's well-behaved Immortals were tucked in their beds--as were the Watchers assigned to them. So there were probably only two people who'd seen that Quickening and recognized it for what it was. Myself...and Jacob Kell. *** The deaths in the Kathedral, as we'd nicknamed it, had gotten more coverage. But they'd also been covered *up*. Nary a mention of the interrupted dinner, the satin or the swords. According to the papers, three homeless men and one woman had sought shelter in the unfinished building, started a fire to warm themselves, and died of smoke inhalation when it got out of hand. What an epitaph for the legendary Jin Ke. I half heard some later news on a TV in one of the railroad station's restaurants. Advocates for the homeless were making an issue of the slow Fire Department response time. Firefighters argued that no one should have been in the structure, and they'd known no others were in danger. Besides, the fire itself had done little damage even to the Kathedral. Their slow response had aided Jacob. But he hadn't really needed that sort of help. Unlike the rest of us, he'd explored every inch of the place. He undoubtedly had hidey-holes where no mortal would ever find him. And I knew he'd go right on living there. Waiting for the challenge that was sure to come. *** I couldn't leave New York before the showdown. By late afternoon I'd found the perfect hideout. An office building a few doors from the Kathedral, on the other side of the street, had a seldom-used penthouse apartment for visiting execs. It even had its own private elevator. After I'd spent a few minutes tampering with locks, it was mine. I knew I wouldn't be disturbed, even if I was still around when the offices opened Monday. I'd used digs like these before I met Jacob. If no one was supposed to be in a VIP suite, it never occurred to office staff to check whether someone actually was. Even if they spotted me using the elevator, I'd be mistaken for a workman who had a right to be there. Under different circumstances, I would have gotten a kick out of my luxurious new home--a striking contrast to the room I'd been sharing with four other men. Now I just wished those men were alive. I didn't plan to waste time enjoying the bed, let alone the bathtub. There was only one part of the penthouse I cared about: its picture window. The window that overlooked the main entrance to Jacob's Kathedral. *** I was barely settled when someone else tried to break in. I was amused, in a grim way. //Well, I know Duncan's Watcher is in town...// I'm an expert at rigging locks. My rival for the best seat in the house had to go elsewhere. *** I knew Duncan MacLeod would wait until dusk. But would it be dusk on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, or even later? How much time would he need to recover from Connor's death and train for the fight of his life? Faith had probably told him where she was staying. If he read newspapers or turned on the TV, he'd learned about the deaths in the Kathedral and realized Jacob had killed his followers. He'd even be aware there was one henchman unaccounted for--no, two, because there was no way he would have spotted the news reports of Carlos's death. But he knew he wouldn't have to face a gang. Did he understand that as Jacob assimilated the power of the Sanctuary Immortals, he grew stronger with each passing day? I got at least one answer quickly. I'd been at my post just an hour when the tall, proud form of the Highlander came striding toward his destiny. *** My measly take from the thrift shop had only paid for a cheap pair of binoculars. Given another twenty-four hours, I would have stolen better ones or the cash to buy them. Had high resolution and infrared. As it was, I couldn't see much after MacLeod entered the building. Moving figures glimpsed through windows in the section illegally wired for electricity; moonlight glancing off swords in areas with no walls at all. That was about it. I told myself that if MacLeod walked out alive, I'd recognize him by his build and carriage. The streetlights would show all I needed to see. Until then I had time on my hands. Too much time.