Chapter Eleven

"How extraordinary," Horton was positively crowing as he put down the phone.

Megabyte didn't bother to hide the revulsion he felt towards the man, "What, a couple of girl scouts make it down here to sell you cookies?"

"Megabyte, Megabyte," Horton ticked, "You really must try to cheer up. Think of what a grand adventure you're about to embark on."

"Kidnapping one of my friends, yeah, right. What a barrel of fun."

"Megabyte, I'm going to give you news that'll make your day," Horton said. Whatever that phone call had revealed, it had obviously put him in high spirits.

He didn't even bother to look at the man. "What?"

"You're not going to have to kidnap anyone."

The Tomorrow Person whipped his head up. What had brought about this change, he wondered suspiciously. Better yet, where was the catch. Bluntly, he asked, "Why?"

Horton smiled, that chill, eager smile that made Megabyte think of a shark. A very dangerous, feral predator. "It would appear that this is my lucky week. Conner MacLeod is in Glenfinnan. What's more, he's at Catriona Fraser's house with your friends Newman, Weston, and Jackson."

Megabyte closed his eyes, feeling his heart turn to lead inside his chest. Great, he thought, what are they doing in Glenfinnan?

Probably looking for you, you dope, he answered his own question.

Now they were all in danger. And it was entirely his fault.

"It would seem that my plan will have to be altered a bit," Horton mused, steepling his hands.

Megabyte slouched back, wishing that he had never heard of immortals, the Game, Conner MacLeod or Richie Ryan. Come to think of it, especially Richie Ryan. What did Ami see in that guy anyway?

He caught himself up short, having to stifle a gasp of nervous, hysterical laughter. Here he was in the clutches of nutcase who was planning to harm his friends, who could kill his father at any moment, and he was thinking about Ami's love life?

Maybe Horton isn't the only one around here who's lost it, he thought bleakly.

*****

An insistent hand shook his shoulders, rousing out of the fitful, dreamless slumber he'd been having. He opened his mouth to make some retort to his Dad about the roughness of the waking when he realized it wasn't his Dad who was doing the shaking.

James Horton smiled down at him, looking for all the world like a benevolent Uncle. Or at least, he might have if those pale eyes hadn't been burning cold fire.

He recoiled from the man's touch, sickened and angry.

"Ah, good, you're awake," Horton said pleasantly as if he hadn't seen what just passed between them, "It's time for you to earn your keep."

Earn my keep?, Megabyte thought, is this guy for real?

He was, he was dead serious. Great imagery, Megabyte sarcastically congratulated himself.

"With your friends at Fraser's place, I can't take the chance of them teleporting out of there with MacLeod. Therefore, I need a distraction while I get my men in place."

"To do what?"

Horton rolled his eyes, "To knit. What do you think, you silly boy? So that I can capture them all."

"And just how do you plan to do that? They'll just teleport out of there before your goons even get passed the front door," Megabyte said smugly.

Horton reached in his desk and pulled out a small metal box. Opening it, he pulled out a small feathered dart. "Tell me, Megabyte, do you know what Curari is?"

Mutely, Megabyte shook his head.

"It's a substance used by South American tribes to poison arrows. They extract it from vines and I assure you that it is quite lethal," he twirled the thing by the feathered butt.

"You want me to--"

"No, just listen. On this dart is a mixture of a sedative with Curarine. Curarine is a non-lethal extract of Curari that's mainly used as a muscle relaxant. The curarine is fast acting. It should to prevent them from escaping while the sedative takes effect."

"Now, while I have my men readying themselves outside of Fraser's, I want you to go in there and distract them, buy us time. I promise that you're friends won't be harmed by this. I shall send the dartsmen in first. Unfortunately, the darts won't work long on MacLeod, so stronger measures will have to be taken in his case. It would wise for you to make sure that your friends are out of commission when I send those measures in. Things might happen in the heat of the moment and my gunmen will be focusing on movement of any kind," Horton replied, pushing a few of the darts his way.

Megabyte stared at him and the darts in open horror.

"Oh and one more thing, Megabyte," Horton continued easily, "You'd better be convincing. If things don't go according to plan, if MacLeod or your friends should get away..."

Megabyte gingerly picked up one of the darts. He felt dead inside as he said, "They won't get away. I'll make sure of it."

Chapter Twelve

"They've been in there for a long time," Jade fidgeted.

"That's to be expected. If you're bored, maybe you should pop back home for a bit," Adam turned the page of his magazine.

Jade rolled her eyes, "Are you kidding? If I go home, Mum'll try to keep me there. I can't believe Ami went back. We'll probably never see her again."

"She'll be back," Adam assured her, "But if she didn't check in occasionally with her mother, you know Mrs. Jackson would hit the roof."

"I guess," Jade walked over to the window and peeked out, "Looks like a storm is coming."

A chill rippled down his spine at the words. Intuitively, he knew that a storm was coming, but not of the natural kind. And whatever it was, it was headed their way with a single-mindedness that was frightening, threatening to leave chaos in its wake.

Those thoughts ghosted across his consciousness in less than a second. He could never really say where the perceptions originated from only that they left him more unsettled than ever.

*****

"And here I thought I was going to be the one with the surprising news. You always did have a flair for the dramatic, my dear," Conner gave her a short bow.

She made a face. "Jealous, Uncle?" she teased.

"You wish."

"Oh, I do love you, Conner," she laughed, hugging him.

"You do have good taste, I'll give you that," he grinned, then ducked as she mock-cuffed him.

"I'm glad we got all those tedious explanations out of the way. I hate not knowing where I stand with people."

"It does help," he agreed, "but it also complicates matters."

"How d'ye mean?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, we have an Immortal loose in Glenfinnan," he pointed out.

She straightened, gray eyes narrowing to slits, "How did you come to that conclu--oh."

He could almost see the wheels in her head turning as she put two and two together. "You mean you're only now realizing that headless body was no random slaying. And here I thought you were supposed to be a bright girl."

"Be nice, Conner," she reproved, brow puckered in thought, "I suppose that means ye'll have business ta take care o' then."

Her tone conveyed that she wasn't wildly enthusiastic about the prospect. "You said that you could live with it."

"I can. Still, I dinna exactly like the idea that ye could lose yer head in a duel. Seems chancy ta me."

"It is chancy but skill counts, too. Believe it or not, five hundred years have made me an adequate swordsman."

"Just adequate?"

He grinned, "Above average anyway."

"And they've taught ye humility, I see," she replied dryly.

"Of course," he said innocently.

"Conner MacLeod, ye're terrible."

"Is that anyway to talk to your elders?"

She waved that off, face drawn in contemplation. Something dawned on her face and her voice was fairly suspicious as she asked, "I dinna suppose that Megabyte's disappearance has something ta do with this other Immortal?"

"Your friend Ami appears to think so."

"How nice o' her ta tell me about this," Cat said sarcastically.

Conner eyed his niece. He well remembered her temper and could almost see it rising. Time to head off trouble, he thought. Casually, he asked, "I don't suppose you two could hold the catfight off until later?"

She blinked. "Dinna be ridiculous, Uncle."

If she could chastise him instead of storming then things would be fine. "If another Immortal does have your friend and his father, there has to be a reason for it. Kidnapping is not part of the Game. Or at least it's not supposed to be."

"Not every Immortal plays by the rules, I take it?"

"We're only human. Or a close facsimile at any rate. It's possible that they might have seen a beheading and if so, then they're probably dead by now. Tidier not to leave witnesses," he said grimly.

"No, we'd know if Megabyte were dead," she stated firmly.

"Are you sure about that?"

She nodded.

"Figures. Why doesn't he teleport himself and his father away then?"

"Maybe something happened and he can't--"

There was a burst of light and a red-haired figure appeared in a crumpled ball at their feet. Cat hurried over to him, "Megabyte."

"I'll go get the others--" Conner started to say, then noticed that Jade and Adam were already entering the room.

Meanwhile, Cat was gently easing him over. The boy had a livid bruise creeping up one side of his face. He clutched her arms, "Cat?"

"You've been hurt. Jade, go get some ice," Cat said briskly.

Jade scurried out of the room at top-speed.

Adam knelt down beside the red-haired boy, "Megabyte, what happened? Where's your father?"

"They've got him," Megabyte said, "They're going to kill him."

Conner felt suspicion rise in him. What kind of boy would go off and leave his father to an grisly fate? It didn't fit what Ami and Cat had said about Megabyte "Who, boy? Who's got him?"

The kid didn't seemed surprised to find the Immortal questioning him. In fact, he didn't seem surprised to see Conner at all. A flash of recognition seemed to flash across the surface of those bright blue eyes. Warning bells began to go off Conner's head and he found himself reaching for the trenchcoat in the chair next to him. More specifically, for the katana in the trenchcoat.

"A man named Horton. He killed an Immortal," the boy said unsteadily, "Dad and I saw it. That's how he caught us."

"A mortal killed that Immortal at Rachel's?" Jade asked as she returned with the ice.

Megabyte nodded then winced. "His name's James Horton. He hates Immortals, he hunts them."

"Where's General Damon?" Adam repeated.

Was it his imagination or did the Australian look as uneasy as the Immortal felt? Something wasn't right here. Something was very not right.

*****

Megabyte bit his lip, hating himself as he lured his friends further into the trap Horton had woven. How he wanted to tell them, to warn them but he had his instructions and Horton had promised that his father wouldn't survive the night if things didn't go according to plan. He didn't have a choice.

The knowledge of that didn't make it any easier

The man, the Immortal, Megabyte reminded himself, was watching him with undisguised distrust. He noticed him inching for the coat on the chair, probably for the sword in it. In a way he was glad even though it wouldn't do any good.

No good at all.

"Where's General Damon?" Adam was asking. Beside him, Cat was pressing the ice Jade had fetched against the side of his face. He felt tears prick his eyes, tears that had nothing to do with the sudden, stinging cold.

"Horton has him." The best lie is one that has truth in it, he knew. Horton wanted them distracted just long enough to get his people ready. It was proving to be easier than he'd thought.

"Ye've been badly treated," Cat clucked over him, trying to get him to lean back against the sofa.

"I'll be fine," he muttered.

"Why didn't this Horton kill you both, boy?" the Immortal, Conner, asked bluntly. He had his sword drawn now.

"Uncle--" Cat began in astonishment.

"Cat, step away from him, please," Conner ordered.

"I'll do no such thing," she exclaimed, "Can ye no' see he's hurt?"

"Cat, do as he says," Adam spoke up quietly.

Adam wasn't buying it either. He didn't know whether to panic or be relieved.

Reluctantly, the Scottish girl got to her feet and moved over to Jade who was watching the proceedings with wide-eyed dismay.

"Well, boy, why didn't he kill you both? And how did you get away?" The Immortal was implacable.

Megabyte looked away. He glanced at the windows where he felt sure that Horton's men were gathering.

There was no time left. No time at all.

*****

Megabyte didn't respond.

Cat began to understand why Conner and Adam were so concerned. What's going on here, she wondered. "Megabyte, what happened?" she asked.

His eyes left the windows, where they had been resting, met Cat's. Going pale, she swiftly took in him, the windows, and the expression in his eyes.

Forgive me, it said.

Conner had seen it, too. "Get down, everyone!"

The windows shattered and the door crashed in with a thunderous bang. She hit the floor, just in time to hear the sound of gunfire. Crawling towards the armchair, she dared a look back. Megabyte was sitting in the center of the room, head bowed in obvious grief. She couldn't leave him, no matter what he had done. Skittering behind pieces of furniture, she drew closer and closer. Hand extended, she whispered, "Megabyte, come on. Ye'll be killed if ye sit here."

He stared at her, blue eyes hooded. Slowly, he reached for her hand. She grasped it and started to pull him towards her when she gasped and yanked back.

A tiny dart was embedded in the hollow of her hand.

"Megabyte," she said in disbelief as the room began spinning. She shook her head, trying to dispel the fog gathering there.

"I'm sorry," he said brokenly, "I have no choice."

One last burst of strength enabled her to pull the dart out before she passed out.

*****

From his vantage point behind the overturned table, Conner saw his niece go down. Rage rose red in his brain, thick as a fog and he had to force calm. He couldn't do anything for her if he went to pieces.

Next to him, Jade snapped her head up, "Adam!"

He whipped around in time to see the Australian falling, a tiny dart resting in his neck.

Others were coming, he could see them over the rim of the table and he doubted that they were carrying dart-guns. He was outnumbered and outgunned. There was nothing he could do to save himself or the two downed Tomorrow People. The knowledge rested bitterly in him.

Jade. She was still unharmed, she still had a chance. He ducked behind the table, dragging her down as he did. Holding her close, he whispered, "I want you to leave."

"No, I--"

"Shut up," he said savagely, "I want you to find my kinsman, Duncan MacLeod. He should be in Paris right now. If he's not, then try Seacouver, Washington. Find him and tell him what happened here. Tell him everything, even about what you are. If we're going to survive this, we'll need all the help we can get. Now, go."

She nodded, face drawn with fright that she was trying not to show. He squeezed her hand, "Good luck."

Then she vanished.

Luck wasn't an option, he laughed silently, mirthlessly. The sound of a machine gun cut the air. He felt his chest explode, saw the blood, heard the katana clatter to the floor as it fell from his slack hand.

No, luck wasn't an option. Not any more, he thought as he died.

*****

Megabyte sat huddled in the remains of the room, numbed to all feeling as he gazed around. Cat lay stretched across the floor, hair gleaming like freshly spilled blood in the light, hand outstretched as if in supplication. Adam was near the entry way, face waxen and completely limp, a tiny feathered dart under the chin.

There really was blood spilled. It was seeping from the area of the table. The gunmen kicked it aside and Conner MacLeod fell forward from his half-propped position. His dead eyes seemed to glare accusingly at Megabyte. The boy flinched and buried his face.

He'd caused this, it was his fault.

There was no way he would ever be able to forgive himself for this. Not even if they survived this.

Chapter Thirteen

Paris, France

/I've got the address, Jade./ Ami's excited voice rang in her head.

Jade lowered the cup of tea in her hand. All around her, the babble of French voices fell away as she turned her attention inward.

/Where?/

/It's a barge on the Quai de la Tournelle on the Seine, just off Notre Dame./ Ami 'pathed /Apparently, he spends half of the year there and the other half running a dojo in the States. From what I've been able to dig up on the computer, he's also been involved in several police investigations./

/For what?/

/For a string of several murders in which the victims were beheaded. No concrete evidence has ever surfaced for a conviction./

/Sounds like the right MacLeod then. Thanks, Ami. I'm heading over there now./

/Wait, I'll come with you./

/No./ Jade 'pathed immediately.

/Jade, I--/

/Ami, one of us needs to keep an "ear" out for the others. I can't do that if I'm trying to convince Duncan MacLeod that I'm telling the truth and not some nutball off the street. /

/Then let me do it--/

/No. Conner charged me with this. Besides, if something should happen then you're our last hope, Ami. I wouldn't be much good if I were the only one of us left uncaptured but you, Ami... With you, at least there is that hope./

There was a pause. Ami sounded touched as 'she pathed /You're wrong, Jade Weston. You'd do just fine. All right, I'll stay. But be careful./

/I will./

Jade glanced around the small cafe as Ami's mental touch withdrew. Paris was more beautiful than she had ever dreamed. The people were so vibrant and alive, behaving as if they were the paramount of all peoples on the earth. And the city itself-- She had only been here for a few hours and she was already enchanted by it.

But as beautiful as it was, she could take no joy in it. Not when worry and fear ate away at her like a cancer. She stood; she had to find Duncan MacLeod or her friends hadn't a hope in hell of getting out of this alive.

*****

The barge wasn't exactly what Jade was expecting.

To be perfectly honest, she had thought that someone like Duncan MacLeod, an Immortal who had surely lived long enough to amass a small fortune, would have a yacht. Or something like that. Not the small, flat-topped vessel resting in the water before her.

She checked the map she'd bought again and recalled what Ami had told her. Quai de la Tournelle. Yep, this was the place. And Ami had said that Notre Dame was just off the-- She caught her breath as she took in the gleaming stone and glass cathedral, the way it soared above and beyond the scenery. For a moment, she wondered what it would look like as sunrise, with the sky behind it a living, changing frame.

There was a gangplank connecting the boat to the shore. Sticking her hands in her pockets, she stepped off the embankment and onto the incline. The Seine bubbled beneath the bridge, a happy murmur to the water as it flowed along. The view from the topdeck of the barge was fantastic, Jade noticed as she stepped off the plank. She understood why Duncan MacLeod had chosen this spot to park his floating home.

She slowly rotated her way around trying to get her bearings. The boat rose and fell gently with the ebb of the water. There was a door near the stern of the ship and she stepped over bits of coiled rope to get to it. She hesitated. Should she knock or just go in? Did she really know what she was doing, what she was getting into? Too late to chicken out now, Weston, she admonished herself. Lifting her hand, she rapped on the door, then turned the knob. Suprisingly enough, it swung open easily. A small set of stairs led belowdecks and she followed them warily, as if expecting an Immortal to leap out at her brandishing a sword.

The interior was nice, if a bit Spartan in taste. To her right was a large bed, a bookshelf resting against the wall next to it. Beyond that was a living room area, complete with a kitchen and a large fireplace. There were shelves of pictures, a few sculptures here and there, a large black couch in the center of the room. The stereo in the corner was playing the whimsical strains of Tori Amos she noticed.

On that couch was a man, his dark head turning as she came down another set of stairs. He was very good-looking, fair-skinned with a patrician nose and dark eyes, looking young enough to be a graduate student. His black hair was cut short, nearly matching the couch in its color. He studied her in mild curiosity, not seeming the least bit surprised to see her.

Images suddenly assailed her mind. Horses, people fleeing before her. The clash of sword against sword. A man with long brown hair and a cane reciting poetry, no, creating it for the first time-- 'When for a moment, like a drop of rain,/ He sinks into thy depths with a bubbling groan,/ Without a grave, unknelled, uncoffined and unknown.' A woman, beautiful, her long gold hair framing a tear-stained face then that head falling off as a sword bit through her graceful neck, bringing power, ecstasy, and pain in one fell swoop. Jade tried to steady herself. This man was an Immortal; older, much, much older than either Conner or Richie judging by his psychic signature.

"Duncan MacLeod?" she asked hopefully.

A slight smile played across his lips. "No, Adam Pierson and thank goodness for that. I'm too self-involved to be such a boy scout."

"What?" Jade was completely thrown.

"Just a joke," Pierson said ruefully, "Tell me, do you normally, pardon the pun, barge into people's houses?"

"I'm looking for Duncan MacLeod. Is he here?" she ignored the question.

He raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little young for him?"

She stared at him, desperation mounting, "Listen, I need to see Duncan MacLeod. It's terribly important."

"A matter of life and death?"

"Yes," she was relieved he seemed to understand.

"Isn't it always," he leaned back into the chair, head turning away from her.

She glared at the back of his head, feeling her temperature rise. She skirted around the couch, coming to stand right in front of him. He glanced up with apparent disinterest. "You still here, kid?"

"Look, Mr. Pierson. I need to see Duncan MacLeod. If you know where he is, then I would appreciate you telling me," she put her hands on her hips.

"Would you now? Why should I?" he took a swig from a bottle of beer.

She gaped at him. She absolutely could not believe this man. "Because his kinsman, Conner, needs his help. I'm supposed to find Duncan and bring him back to Glenfinnan with me. "

"I've known Conner a long time, " Pierson said, "I'm sure he can handle it."

"Not if someone separates his head from his neck, he can't," she snapped.

Eyes narrowing, the Immortal sounded deceptively placid, "It appears that someone's been discussing trade secrets. You and Conner been sharing pillow talk, have you?"

"Excuse me?" Jade sputtered. A blush rose to her face and that made her even angrier. Pierson stared at her for a long, endless moment, making Jade feel rather like a bug under a microscope. When he spoke, his voice was slow, languid and teasing. " Mind you, I didn't think that either of the MacLeods was into cradle robbing. Well, Duncan's a bit of a boy scout, but maybe Conner--"

Jade bit back the rather nasty retort that formed in her throat. "Look, Conner MacLeod needs help, if he's your friend--"

"Friends are troublesome." He stretched his long legs and motioned to her with the bottle of beer, "Care for one? There are a few more cold ones in the refrigerator."

Jade was about to tell him what he could do with that beer, when he said, "He's out of town."

"What?" Now she was confused.

"MacLeod," Pierson said with the patience of one talking to the mentally deficient, "You wanted to know where he was. He's out of town. Where, I don't know. He said something about a score to settle in Southern France."

"Great," she groaned, plopping down on the coffee table. He shot her a dirty look as he moved his legs out of the way.

"Hey, don't blame me. I'm just the messenger."

Now what was she going to do? She hadn't considered the fact that Duncan MacLeod wouldn't be in. Neither she or Ami had even entertained the notion. They had placed all their money, so to speak, on his aid and he wasn't even around.

"Sure you don't want a beer, kid? You look like you could use one," Pierson said helpfully.

"The name is Jade, Jade Weston, not kid. Got it?" she replied snippily.

"Sheesh. Is it my fault that Mac's not around?" he asked indignantly.

"No, I suppose it isn't," she conceded ungraciously.

"Thank you."

She let her gaze drift out the porthole, lost in thought.

"So what has Conner gotten himself into now?" he asked casually.

She glanced up, surprised by the question. A dim hope began to form in the back of her mind. Duncan MacLeod wasn't here--there was nothing she could do about that. However, this man, this Adam Pierson was and what's more he was an Immortal. Better than that, he appeared to know Conner MacLeod and fairly well, too. If she could induce him to help her, maybe things might not be all lost.

Jade gave him a sweet smile to which he responded with a suspicious frown. "A group of men broke into his niece's--"

"Hang on," Pierson interrupted, "Conner has a niece? Since when?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "Since she was born maybe? As I was saying, someone broke into his niece's lodgings in Glenfinnan last night and kidnapped him, her, and my friend, Adam. He told me to come find his kinsman Duncan and ask for his help."

"He told you? And just how did he do that? Come to think of it, how did you get away and get here so fast?"

Explanation time, she thought. It might be an abuse of her powers and Adam wouldn't be pleased but she wanted to do something to wipe the smug expression off this Immortal's face.

"One question at a time. How did he tell me? Well, I was sitting nest to him, he opened his mouth and used words," she began caustically.

Pierson sniffed disdainfully, "Very funny."

"I thought so, too. How did I get here? Allow me to demonstrate," she stood up, mock bowed, and vanished.

Pierson straightened, taking in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of light. Jade clapped her hands to get his attention and waved, "Hi."

He rolled his eyes. "Great, just what I need. A Tomorrow Person. And one who thinks she's terribly amusing at that. Conner would send someone like you."

"How do you know about the Tomorrow People?" she demanded, mortified to hear her voice go up a few octaves.

Smiling enigmatically but nonetheless smugly, "Let's just say I have a long lifeline. Been there, done that, seen most everything there is."

"I noticed," she said crossly, "Your aura is overwhelming."

"Why, thank you. What a lovely thing to say," he beamed.

"It wasn't meant as a compliment," she muttered. "I knew a Tomorrow Person, two, no, three thousand years ago in ancient Persia," Pierson said conversationally, "A sculptor. He used to get terribly annoyed with me because I would sneak up behind him whenever he was carving a bit of rock. As soon as I got close to him, he'd start like a scalded cat and start cursing at me. We talked about it once and he tried to describe the sensation to me. Sounded a bit like what we get from the approach of another Immortal."

"Did you two ever come up with an explanation for it?"

"We did speculate. Everything has a force to it, a life energy, if you will. Normal humans have it in small amounts, the Tomorrow People have just enough to be aware of the difference, and Immortals are walking storage containers of it. The longer we live, the stronger that field around us gets."

She nodded, "With you, it's nearly overpowering."

"Nobody's perfect."

She paused a moment, her mind focusing on something he had just said, "Wait a sec, three thousand years ago? Exactly how old are you?"

"What an impertinent thing to ask," but he didn't appear offended. She really hated that smug expression.

"This is all very well but I don't have all day to sit around," Jade burst out.

"Sometimes the best thing to do is sit. Going off half- cocked never solved anything."

"Thanks a lot."

"No charge. I don't suppose you caught a name, did you?"

"Huh?"

"A name. Usually, my kind like to give their names out when there's a challenge. A peculiar failing I've noticed."

"It wasn't an Immortal."

"What?" he sat up, smug demeanor broken for the first time.

"They were mortal. All I got was the name of their leader," she was startled by the sudden change.

"What was it?" Pierson was serious now.

"Ah," she struggled for a moment, then snapped her fingers, "Horton. James Horton, I think."

Adam Pierson stared at her, then started swearing. The color and variety of his words caused her to flush, then blanch. He went on for several minutes without repeating himself and her ears were burning. Then he suddenly switched over to another language. She couldn't understand the words but their implications were clear. He switched languages several times before suddenly stopping with, "Are you sure about that?"

"As sure as I am of anything."

"Did he have a tattoo here?" Pierson moved the sleeve of his gray pullover up and indicated his right wrist. There was a blue trefoil shape there.

She could feel herself going pale, "I didn't see it but before one of my friends disappeared, he sent a flash of an image. A trefoil shape just like that one, we thought it might be a tattoo--"

"It is," he said shortly, "These friends of yours, I don't suppose they're Tomorrow People as well?"

"Yes, but two of them were hit with some kind of dart and the other... well, Horton has his Dad, so I guess he threatened and well..."

"Your friend is helping Horton?" Pierson guessed shrewdly.

"Yeah, but he wouldn't do it if he wasn't being forced," Jade said defensively.

"Save the excuses, kid. This is trouble. Big trouble. I knew I shouldn't have agreed to barge-sit for MacLeod," the Immortal muttered.

"What are we going to do?" Jade asked.

"We? What's this 'we' stuff?" Pierson snapped.

"Well," Jade floundered, "You did say Conner MacLeod was your friend and that this guy Horton was trouble..."

"Yeah, so?" He said pugnaciously.

"So, what are we going to do?" she adjusted her stance, arms crossed rebelliously.

He sighed. "Why? Why am I always the one to get these things dropped in my lap?"

"Just lucky?"

"Cute, real cute, kid. All right, since "we" have to do something then I want you to teleport me somewhere."

"Why?"

"I need to see a man about his brother-in-law," came the mysterious reply.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"I'll explain it to you later, OK?"

"Fine, I'll take you to... Where are we going by the way?"

"Seacouver, Washington."

Jade felt a surge of interest. Seacouver was Duncan MacLeod's other residence for half of the year. Was there a special reason for that? And why was Adam Pierson so keen to go there? "Okay, I'll take you to Seacouver but only if you stop calling me kid."

"Deal."

Chapter Fourteen

His mind felt like it was swaddled in cotton balls.

Adam Newman groaned as one eyelid was pried open and a light shone there. He twitched, trying to bring his lid down but whatever had him held fast.

Suddenly, his eye was let go. He blinked groggily. The world was blurry, vague, and distorted. A face loomed just above him, round and mustached.

"Just relax, son," the unknown voice drawled kindly.

He tried to remember where he was, what had happened. His memory, however, seemed to be on vacation at the moment.

The overhead light beat down on him relentlessly, causing his eyes to tear and making it difficult to see. He turned his head. A glint of red caught his eyes. Sleep was coming fast, threatening to make him its own but he fought it off for a few precious seconds more, propping his lids open with difficulty.

His vision cleared and he saw that the red was hair. Across from him, a red-haired girl was lying on a metal table of some sort. Her face was turned towards him and he could see that she was unconscious. Cat, his mind supplied, Cat was lying across from him.

The fog rolled in and he drifted back in it before he could figure out why the sight bothered him so much.

*****

"At least, our objectives were achieved even if you two did manage to bungle the operation, letting two of the so-called Tomorrow People get away," Horton circled the room like a caged animal.

Megabyte didn't even bother to look up while the young man beside him, one of Horton's Hunters as he called them, was visibly trembling. Had he been in the young Hunter's position, had this been his cause, and Horton, his leader, Megabyte supposed he might tremble as well. After all, Horton was a complete psychopath. There was no telling what he might do in a fit of rage.

But this was not his cause, and Horton was not his leader. If anything, the deranged Hunter was his master. Horton had told him in many subtle and some not so subtle ways that he felt that he owned him.

Watch out, Megabyte thought, because a man in chains is the most dangerous one of all--he has nothing to lose.

Yet he was still caught, caught in an even greater snare now than before. They had his father, his friends. Horton seemed to be holding all the cards but Megabyte was biding his time, knowing somehow, some way, the man would make a mistake. "We'll find them," The young Hunter was whining, "Even now, we have people staking out their houses. We'll get them, sir."

"Oh, for heavens sake's, stop that caterwauling. Do you have any idea how annoying that is? And for now, I want you to watch them. You do remember how to do that, do you not? " Horton asked scathingly.

"Yes, sir."

"Then get to it, man. And I expect hourly reports. I want to know where they go, what they eat, even if they take an afternoon siesta. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," the young Hunter snapped to attention in such a way that a Marine cadet would have been envious.

"Get out," Horton nodded toward the door.

Megabyte watched jealously as the young man scurried out of the room.

Horton stopped his pacing long enough to clap his hands on Megabyte's shoulders. An affectionate gesture minus the affectionate part. Megabyte didn't even react.

"I shouldn't be so hard on you. This is your first experience in matters like this. I'm sure you'll grow more adept with time," there was something akin to fatherly pride in Horton's voice.

Yeah, Megabyte thought, if Satan was your dad.

"What are you going to do with them?" Megabyte ventured, curiosity getting the better of him.

"As I understand it, your friends are resting quite comfortably at the moment. It should be awhile before the effects of the sedative wear off. As for the Immortal," Horton's smile became all teeth, "I think I shall have a bit of fun before I have him removed to his cell."

Megabyte could well imagine Horton's idea of fun and it made him feel ill, to say the least.

"Ah, Megabyte, we're going to have such a great future together," Horton clapped him on the shoulder.

Megabyte swallowed but said nothing.

Horton noticed this, "You seem depressed. What's wrong?'

The fake concern in his voice made Megabyte want to grind his teeth. "Hmm, I know. I have just the thing to cheer you up. Come along with me," Horton pulled him to his feet.

"Where are we going? To see my Dad?" Megabyte asked hopefully.

"Even better. You can watch me play with my new pet Immortal," Horton grinned, as if he were bestowing some kind of honor on him.

Megabyte remembered the accusation in Conner MacLeod's eyes when he had been dead. Somehow, he didn't think it would be any less with him alive.

Chapter Fifteen

Seacouver, Washington, U.S.A.
Joe's

"A bar? You have me teleport halfway around the world just so we can go to a bar? You take your drinking seriously, don't you?" Jade said in disbelief.

"Things aren't always what they appear, ki-, er, Jade," Adam Pierson rolled his eyes.

Jade was skeptical. With its worn brick exterior and fluorescent sign, Joe's fit the appearance of a bar perfectly. "Please tell me you have a reason for bringing us here other than you're thirsty."

"There's someone I want you to meet. Someone who needs to hear what you told me."

"Will he help us?"

"Probably. I don't know. That's up to him."

"Who is he?" Jade demanded.

"You'll find out soon enough," Pierson stuck his hands in his jean pockets and headed for the entrance.

Jade couldn't decide if the man was deliberately setting out to be annoying or if it just came naturally.

Shaking her head, she followed him, wondering what in the world had possessed her to take up with him. Desperation, she decided, pure, simple desperation.

*****

The inside of the bar was a great deal nicer than the outside, she decided. But then for all she knew, this could be a really exceptional drinking place. Her knowledge on such matters was more than a trifle limited. It was clean and warm-looking, the low strains of the blues in the background. She supposed if she ever wanted a pint of ale and a place to drink it in, she'd choose a place like this.

It was also empty, which she supposed, meant that Joe's was a night-time run establishment only. Which was convenient since what they had to talk about wasn't exactly public knowledge. Nor should it be.

The man at the bar glanced up from the glass he was cleaning. >From the bright bar-lamp, Jade could see that he was an older man, dark hair and beard in the process of silvering. He had a kind face, eyes twinkling as he said, "If it isn't the man himself. To what do I owe the dubious honor of this unexpected visit?"

Jade decided she liked him immediately. She especially liked the exasperation that crossed the Immortal's face at the comment.

"Well, don't flatter yourself, old timer. I haven't quite worked myself up to missing your company yet," Adam Pierson oozed onto the bar stool with an amazing amount of grace. Jade wondered how many years it had taken him to perfect that bit of nonchalance.

The man behind the bar laughed. "You win this time." His eyes cut to Jade, and they were warm and inviting. "I assume you're with the master of charm here. Don't be shy, come on in -- just don't ask me to serve you anything. I could lose my license for that."

Jade smiled easily. "Not even a cola?"

"Well, I think that could be arranged, pretty lady." He winked at her, but as he turned, she didn't miss the questioning glance he gave Pierson.

"It all right. You don't have to tread lightly around, Jade. She knows about Immortals," Pierson said in reply to that glance.

He seemed to relax at that, flashing her a warm, completely genuine smile of welcome.

She and this man, Jade concluded, were going to get on well. Once a few things were explained.

Adam Pierson smiled as he lifted the beer passed his way up in salute. It was an easy, untroubled smile, "I was just wondering, Joe, hear from any family lately? Any close relatives stop in and pay their respects?"

So this was Joe, she thought, filing that away for later use.

"What sort of question is that?" Joe was baffled.

Pierson smiled innocently, "Oh, it's just my little friend here, she ran into a relation of yours. Someone you haven't seen in a while--"

Jade slapped his arm, "Little friend?! What kind of game are you playing at? Get to the point, Pierson."

"I was trying to," he said unruffled.

"Could you hold that thought for a moment. While I'm enjoying seeing someone tweak your nose, Adam, how 'bout an introduction? Prove to me and the young lady here that you still have some manners left," Joe interrupted.

Pierson heaved a long exhalation of annoyance, "Fine. Joe Dawson, Jade Weston. Jade meet Joe, Joe meet Jade, blah, blah, blah."

"Thanks, Adam," Joe said with mock dignity, "I knew you had it in you."

"Not," Jade added.

"It's so nice to meet someone who appreciates Adam's peculiarities the way I do, Jade," Joe solemnly shook her hand.

"Ha, ha," Adam muttered. He was clearly not pleased at the way this conversation was turning.

"Appreciate? You mean there is actually something to appreciate about him? Point it out, I'd love to see it," Jade snickered.

"Well, I'm glad to see you two are having such a good time. I'm sure Conner MacLeod won't mind you whiling his life away thinking up witty amusements," Pierson sipped his beer.

"Conner MacLeod? What's he got to do with anything? And what do you mean whiling his life away?" Joe demanded.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about it, Joe," Methos dismissed airily, "I'm sure that your brother-in-law, Horton, won't mind the delay. He's probably amusing himself by torturing Mac's kinsman as we speak."

"Horton?" Joe exploded.

"Brother-in-law!" Jade exclaimed, slowly backing away from the bar. Pierson caught her forearm, dragging her back.

"Relax, kid. Joe is one of the good guys."

"Don't call me kid," she replied automatically.

"Methos, just what the hell is going on here?" Joe burst out, "What the hell do you mean by that? Horton is dead."

"Sure about that, are you?"

"I saw him die," Joe spat out vehemently, "I saw Mac put the knife in him, I saw his coffin lowered into the ground."

"His coffin, Joe, not him," Pierson countered, "He came back before, he's done it again."

"Um, excuse me," interrupted a small voice.

"Eh?" both men turned to look at Jade.

"What's a Methos?" she asked.

Joe hooted, pointing at Pierson, "That's a Methos. The fine product of five thousand years of refinement. Disappointing, isn't it?"

"Laugh it up, old man. I'll get you for this," Adam Pierson, a.k.a. Methos, growled

"You're welcome to try. Methos, what is this all about?" Joe was serious again, the levity of the moment dissipated like ash through a sieve.

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. James Horton is alive and he has Conner MacLeod."

Joe shook his head in denial, "That's impossible, he can't be."

"He is," Jade interjected, "He kidnapped Conner MacLeod and my friends. I was there, I saw it. I barely got away myself."

Joe stared at her, disbelief and horror warring on that good- humored visage.

Methos leaned across the bar, retrieving the phone, and placing it in front of him, "Call Conner's Watcher. Ask him."

"What's a Watcher?" Jade demanded, feeling left out and not liking that feeling.

"In a minute, kid. Joe, pick up the phone and make the call," Methos said with a clarity and earnestness that made Jade reassess her opinion of him.

It appeared to impress the other man as well for he reached for the phone mumbling, "All right, I'll call."

Methos turned toward Jade, who stared at him expectantly. Nonplused, he asked, "What now?"

"Would you mind filling me in on a few things here? Like who are the Watchers?" she crossed her arms.

Voice low, he explained, "Watchers are an organization that watch the Immortals. They've known about their existence for thousands of years. Remember that tattoo we were talking about? Well, that's how you know someone's a Watcher. It's a symbol of membership. Most Immortals, however, know nothing of the Watchers; it's better that they don't. Most of my kind wouldn't be comfortable with the idea at all."

"Why? Why do they watch them?" Jade's curiosity was piqued.

"To observe, to record. They're historians. At least most of them are. Some of them like Horton have become Hunters, using the knowledge that the Watchers have accumulated and the resources at hand to destroy Immortals."

"How do you know so much?"

"I hid out in the Watchers for a while."

"Wasn't that a trifle risky?"

"Sometimes the best place to hide something is out in the open for everyone to see. Haven't you read ever "The Purloined Letter" by Poe?"

"Ah, no. Why does Horton hunt Immortals?"

"You know about the Game, right? Horton fears that the Immortal at the end will use his power to dominate and enslave mankind. And he's determined to prevent that from happening at all costs. He doesn't just kill evil Immortals; he'd love to kill Duncan MacLeod and there's a boy scout if I ever saw one. Any other questions?"

"Yes."

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"5,000 years?!" she gaped openly.

"That may take a bit longer," he took another long drink from his beer.

"That's all right," Jade patted his hand, "Looks like we have time."

*****

"He's dead," Joe said heavily, the phone made a loud thud as it fell back into the cradle.

"But I tell you that Horton is--" Jade started protesting.

He held up a hand, "Not Horton. Conner's Watcher, he's dead. His body was found on the shores of Loch Shiel. He'd been shot twice, the body dumped."

Joe looked like that phone call had aged him ten years. Methos must have decided this, too, for he said, "Sit down, let me get you a drink."

"No, no. I'm fine."

"Not hardly," Jade said bluntly, "You look like someone's knocked the wind out of you."

"What an accurate description. That's exactly how I feel at the moment," he paused, "Damn it, how did he do it? How could he? I saw Mac drive that knife in --"

Jade wondered if she looked as green as she felt. She must have for Joe gave her an embarrassed glance, muttering an apology.

"I don't think the question of how is important right now," Methos said briskly, "What are we going to do is more apt I think?"

Joe nodded, "You're right. But why Conner MacLeod?"

"I should think it obvious: he's an Immortal and he's Mac's kinsman. Why not kill two birds--Immortals with one stone?" Methos replied.

"Hey, excuse me," Jade butted in, "What about my friends? What's going to happen to them?"

"How exactly are you and your friends involved with Conner MacLeod?" Joe asked levelly.

Jade studied him warily. She liked Joe, she really did but he was Horton's brother-in-law... Impulsively, she glanced at the Immortal beside her. He met her gaze, nodding at her in encouragement.

She wasn't sure why she found that comforting. Especially considering the source.

"My friend, Catriona Fraser, is his niece," Jade began, "Or he claims to be her Uncle at any rate. We ran into Cat while we were in Glenfinnan."

"We? Who's this we?"

"My friends Ami, Adam, and myself--"

"Why were you in Glenfinnan?" Joe shot off another rapid-fire question.

She ground her teeth. "Look, I'm going to give you the short of it, so don't interrupt. Horton kidnapped my friend, Megabyte, and his father. We came to Glenfinnan hoping to find out what happened to him. We ran into Cat and she offered to help. Only before she could do that, Conner showed up and the next thing you know her place turns into bloody World War Three, complete with guys with dartguns and machine guns."

She paused to catch her breath. Joe was eyeing her speculatively before asking, "Megabyte? That wouldn't be Megabyte Damon would it? His father's name is General William Damon?"

Chilled, she asked, "How did you kn--"

"And Ami wouldn't be Ami Jackson?"

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"And you, Ami, Adam, and Megabyte are a special group of kids. The Tomorrow People?" He let both hands rest on the counter before him.

"Something you want to share with us, Joe? Since when did you start Watching non-Immortals," Methos spoke up.

"Since they ran into a certain Immortal a few months back in London," Joe replied evenly.

Realization began to dawn on her as her memory belatedly kicked in. She caught Joe's eye and in unison, they said, "Richie Ryan."

"So you do remember?" Joe almost sounded amused.

"It wasn't the sort of thing one forgets," she said wryly, thinking of the London incident, "Let me guess: you're the mysterious Joe that Frank called after Richie 'died'."

"At your service, ma'am," he gave her a small bow.

"Did I miss something?" Methos asked exasperated.

"Richie met our young friend here a few months back while he was running an errand for Mac in London. Let's just say that in the course of things, certain confidences were exchanged."

"So I gathered."

"How did you find out about the Tomorrow People though," Jade prodded, "Frank wouldn't tell you that."

Joe appeared startled, "Frank Addleman knows your little secret?"

"Oops," Jade bit her lip, "Forget I said that."

"Maybe, if you'll 'forget' me telling you that Richie was the one to let the cat out of the bag," Joe replied.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Jade agreed, "How much did Richie tell you? About us?"

"He claimed you had some sort of powers. Telepathy, teleportation, the like," his voice was nice, calm, and held more than a hint of disbelief.

"We do," Jade insisted.

"Hey, I'm not saying that I don't believe you," Joe offered.

"You're not saying that you do either," she nudged Methos, "Tell him"

There was a flash of light, one that Jade caught out of the corner of her eye. She glanced at Joe; he was pale, trembling, shock visibly written on his face.

"Looks like I don't have to tell him anything," Methos sipped with a sigh of contentment.

Jade turned with a false smile plastered on her face. Ami leveled a long, steady gaze her way. With a cheery wave, Jade said, "Ah, hi Ami. How's the bridal shower?"

"Bother that," the other girl snapped, "Where have you been? I haven't heard from you since this morning and--"

She broke off as if noticing for the first time that they weren't alone. Jade put on the most contrite expression she could manage under the circumstances, which wasn't much, "Sorry, Ami. I'd like you to meet a couple of friends of mine, Joe and this is- -"

"Duncan MacLeod?" Ami filled in hopefully.

"What is it with that lately? I don't even look like Mac," Methos groused.

"Well, you sure as hell don't act like him," Joe agreed.

"And you have no idea how many times I thank God before I go to sleep each night for that small blessing."

"Actually, Duncan was out," Jade explained, "So I settled on what I could found there."

Methos appeared indignant, "Now wait jus--"

"Ami Jackson, meet Methos," Jade hastily cut into his tirade, "Careful, he's not what he appears."

"Aren't we all," Methos replied snippily.

Chapter 16

His body spasmed, lungs grouping for air, driven by the need to...breathe.

Chest heaving, he felt his heart race, felt the blood thudding in his ears. Little internal details that signaled he was still alive, his head was still attached. Had his hands been free, he might have rubbed the base of his neck in relief.

Now that the details of physical well-being were sorted out, Conner focused his mind on a new problem. His arms were clamped in irons attached long-linked chains. The chains were tight enough to hold his arms away from his body. He glanced down. His legs were also bound, by heavier irons. He got up off his knees, feeling his arms pop in relief, blood tingling through the sore limbs.

His eyes adjusted to take in his dim surroundings. It looked like some sort of crypt, minus the occupants. Had a strange musty smell to it, as if it hadn't been opened in years. It probably hadn't, he conceded.

Tugging on the chains, he tested them, hoping against hope for a weak length, a rusted section that would pull loose and--

"It won't work, you know."

He lifted his head, through the dim light, he could make out a vague out line of a man, correction, men. His captors; wisely, he kept quiet, watching, waiting.

A man came forward, out of the shadows. Behind him a light came on, causing Conner to blink rapidly at the sudden change. Once they settled, he could see a small man, short spiky blond hair nearly white it was so pale, ice blue eyes set back in a rugged face. The man ran his fingers along the links of the chain lovingly, "Titanium, the same stuff that they used on the space shuttle. I had them ordered just for you."

"How nice," Conner muttered.

Beyond the man in front of him was a group of men all armed to the teeth and one lone boy, head bowed in defeat, posture slumped. Megabyte, he recalled, the one who's father had been kidnapped, the one who had set this trap for them. But not by choice, if he was to believe what the others had told him about Megabyte, not by choice.

"Hey, kid. How are you holding up?" Conner asked conversationally.

The boy seemed surprised and grateful by the same token. Surprised that the Immortal would talk to him and grateful that he was. "I've been better."

"Don't talk to him," the man said softly.

Conner ignored him, "How are the others?"

The blond man struck him, hard enough that he tasted blood. He lifted him by the front of his shirt, "I told you-- don't talk to him."

He let him go and Conner felt the chains give, felt himself sag as the tension on the metal ropes was released.

Conner kept his voice just as soft as the other's, "Perhaps you're right. Perhaps, you're the one I should direct to that question to. What about the others? This boy's father? My niece and her friend? If you harmed any of them--"

"You'll do nothing. Nothing that I don't will. And as for the others... They're all perfectly safe, depending on your cooperation, of course."

"Of course," Conner said, "You'll pardon me, if I have trouble believing anything you say."

The other shrugged. "Why would I lie?"

"Why would you tell the truth either? Either would suit your purpose at this point," Conner countered.

A slow smile crept on the other's face. "That's what I like about you, Conner MacLeod. You're smart, smarter than your kinsman. You understand the rules of this game and know how to play."

Conner nodded. "For all your mortality, you're no different in that respect than evil Immortals like the Kurgan or Slan Quince. And since I don't know who the hell you are, I must therefore assume that this has something to do with my kinsman since you've mentioned him."

"It's almost a shame to kill you," the other mused, "You would make an amusing prey if I were to set you free and set my people on you. How long do you think you would last out there if I did that?"

"As long as I had to," Conner met his appraisal straight on.

He laughed, "I almost believe you. And you're partially right, this does concern your kinsman. But it also concerns you," his face hardened, "as the threat to humanity, the freak of nature you are."

Conner laughed, his staccato laughter echoing, "I've heard that before from better men than you. And I'm still here."

"Not for long," the other motioned to one of his men. The man handed him Conner's katana. The blond man examined it critically, "What is it with the MacLeods and katanas? You're Scots; why not use a good Scottish claymore?"

Conner studied him warily, not responding.

"The sword of Juan Sanchez Villa-Lobos Rameriez," Conner jerked in shock as he heard the other purr that, "Chief Metallurgist to King Charles the V of Spain. Born in Egypt two thousand nine hundred and fifty nine years ago. Married three times, his last wife's father, Masamune forged this blade for him in 593 B.C. The metal in the blade was folded two hundred times, something that the Japanese as a whole didn't learn until the Middle Ages. In 1539, he found you in Scotland, became your mentor, and was beheaded by the Immortal known as the Kurgan who incidentally raped your wife after the Quickening--"

Conner started forward, spurred on by the mocking memory of the Kurgan revealing that to him, something that Heather had never been able to do. The thought of his love being used in such a fashion still made him boil with rage and to hear this man state it so matter-of-factly was too much.

"Temper, temper," the other chided, "In 1995, you faced an Immortal named Kane who broke your precious sword and you retreated to Scotland to repair it. Care to hear more?"

"Who are you?" Conner demanded, shaken by the knowledge this man possessed.

"Justice. Man's savior. But you can call me James Horton. I've studied you, you know. If you'd been a human being instead of the abomination that you are, I might almost have been a fan."

"I'll try to recover from that crushing blow," Conner replied, "What is all this about?"

"It's about jihad, Conner MacLeod, and revenge. Did you know that your kinsman tried to kill me three different times?"

"He must be getting soft; you're still here. I won't make that mistake," Conner promised grimly.

"If you had a choice, doubtless you'd ensure that but the thing is, you're helpless, weaponless, and running out of time. The time of the Immortals is over, humanity will rise up and purge this evil. And I've decided to start with branch of Immortals known as MacLeod."

"I see. And let me guess, I'm the bait for Duncan."

"Exactly," Horton turned his head toward Megabyte, "You see, boy, he understands even better than you."

Horton twirled the katana, admiring it, "Such a lovely piece of art. It would be a shame to sully it."

"Go with that feeling," Megabyte called weakly.

"Don't worry," Horton said to Conner, lifting the blade, "I won't take your head, at least not yet. I want Duncan MacLeod to see his precious kinsman fall before the blade of my justice. All I want is to hear you scream."

Conner spat at him.

Horton wiped the saliva off his cheek, "How very heroic. Let's see how long that resolve lasts with the right amount of persuasion."

"I'm sorry," Megabyte said hopelessly.

"Be brave," Conner fixed his eyes on the boy.

"How touching," Horton said and let the blade fly.

Chapter Seventeen

Shapes swam up before him, pale and faint at first, then more solid. His vision cleared and Adam saw that he was staring at a ceiling of some kind. A face moved into his peripheral vision, one he remembered from his dreams. A rounded, mustached face smiled down at him beatifically. He tried to sit up but was restrained by a gentle hand.

"Whoa, partner. You've had a rough trip, give yourself a moment to adjust," the man said.

Adam lay back, feeling his head ache in a dull, uncomfortable way. His mouth felt dry, nasty, "Where am I?"

"Why, my little corner of the universe. I'm Dr. Talbot," the man bustled around him, taking his pulse, then pulling out a stethoscope and placing it against his chest, "Breathe, please."

Adam complied, wondering just what was going on.

"That's fine. Everything seems to be in working order, my boy. What's your name, by the way?" Talbot all but beamed.

"Adam."

"Pleasure to meet you. Lollypop?" the doctor offered, plunging a red sucker at him.

"No, thanks." This place, this man were giving him the creeps. He could almost hear Rod Sterling and the "Twilight Zone" theme playing in the background. "Can I sit up now?"

Talbot nodded, his jowls flopping grossly, "Take it slowly though. Wouldn't want to pass out, would we?"

Adam ignored that, concentrating instead on sitting up. The ache in his head flared then banked as he held it in his hands. As soon as the room stopped spinning, he lifted his head and took a good look at his surroundings.

The room he was in was small, dingy with brown-colored walls. There wasn't much to it, save a few makeshift cabinets, a desk with a microscope on it, and a few tables, one of which he was on. And on the table next to him lay Cat. He slid down off the metal surface and walked over to her, disregarding his protesting head. She was unconscious, a telepathic probe revealing her to be in a state akin to sleeping only somewhat deeper. He looked up at Talbot accusingly, "What have you done to her?"

"Nothing," Talbot assured him placatingly, "You've recovered much sooner than we expected. She just hasn't shaken off the effects of the drug yet. Another couple of hours and she'll be up and around like nothing ever happened."

There was something about his words that made Adam disbelieve him. "Why are we here? What's going on?"

"That's not for me to say, son. Now that you're awake, I imagine that Mr. Horton will want to speak with you," Talbot said.

Horton. That was the name of the man Megabyte said had taken his father. Before those men had broken into Cat's place, before Megabyte had betrayed them. He frowned. Where was Jade? Had she already been taken to Horton or did she get away? He considered contacting her but decided against it. If she had gotten away, he didn't plan on bringing her back into this, not until he had a plan worked out.

Right now, he wanted to meet this Horton, to find out just what was going on here.

Talbot was speaking into the phone, voice low. When he hung up, he grinned a fake smile at him, coming over and clapping him on the back. "You're in luck, Adam. Mr. Horton has agreed to see you now. The man outside will take you to him."

"But," Adam hesitated, staring down at Cat. He had no desire to leave her alone, unwatched, unprotected. Who knew what could happen? On the other hand...

"She'll be fine. I promise you," Talbot said.

"She'd better be," Adam made no effort to hide the quiet threat in his voice.

*****

Talbot watched the boy walk out. He heaved a sigh of relief. Now that he was gone, he could finish the task Mr. Horton had set for him.

He unwrapped a clean syringe, thumped it, swapped the unconscious girl's arm, and plunged it in. The clear container filled with bright red blood. Removing it, he took the blood and put it with the other samples he'd taken thus far.

Horton wanted a complete work-up; wanted to know what made these Tomorrow People tick, from the inside out. Blood, hair, anything that could be examined, the DNA broken down for study, to isolate what made these kids special.

For future use.

*****

"Scream, damn you. That's all you have to do. And this will all be over," Horton exhorted him.

Conner weakly laughed, "Go to hell."

Slice. Another cut to his abdomen. He'd died twice in the last hour already. Once from blood loss and once from Horton growing impatient and stabbing him through the heart. As always, Immortal flesh had healed and he'd awoke to more pain. Still, he refused to give this man what he wanted.

Megabyte was retching. Strange how something like that caught his interest. He felt sorry for the boy. It wasn't his fault he'd gotten caught up in this.

"Are you a masochist? Do you enjoy this?" Horton said though gritted teeth.

"No," he said, feeling the cut across his stomach heal once again. He stared away from Horton, towards the door where Adam was being shoved in. The elder Tomorrow Person stared in undisguised horror at the scene being played out. Horton turned his head then concentrated on MacLeod again, "Then why don't you give in? All it takes is just one scream and this can all end."

Conner shook his head, digging in for another blow.

"Why? Why don't you save yourself the agony?" Horton asked.

"Because," he rasped, his eyes catching and holding those of the two Tomorrow People in the room, "Every time I say no to you, every time I deny you, you lose. You will not bend me to your will, so cut away. Each time I come back, I'll spit you face and welcome each stroke. But I won't let you win."

Horton stared at him in consternation, then turned away. Conner let his head hang in rest for a moment. When he lifted it, it was just in time to see a gun being leveled at him. There was a bang and a second of pain before life fled again.

"MacLeods," Horton rolled his eyes as the darkness came.

*****

Adam stared in revulsion at Conner MacLeod's bloodied, near broken body. Blood pooled and seeped around the knees of the now temporarily dead Immortal. From the looks of things, he had been tortured. With a sword, his shredded clothes testified to that. He was suddenly very glad that Cat was unconscious, that she wasn't here to see this.

The man who'd shot Conner was wiping his hands with a towel. He handed a katana, blood dripping from the blade to a man next to him. Dismissively, he said, "Have it cleaned. And take that away."

He was indicating Conner, speaking as if he were no more than a slab of meat.

"Where do you want us to put him?" the man asked.

"With the other," the blond man replied.

The other, Adam supposed, was probably General Damon. At least he was alive.

The blond man threw the towel away. His smile was warm, nearly paternal as he said, "Just the person I wanted to see."

Adam stared at him, unable to believe his callousness, to reconcile the sudden switch in demeanor. Careful, an inner voice said, this guy is completely nuts.

"I'm James Horton," the man cheerfully extended his hand.

Repulsed, Adam allowed him to take it. A gagging sound from the corner of the room caught his attention. Megabyte was hung over, hands resting on knees, being dreadfully sick. Adam couldn't fault him; he felt much the same way.

"Pull yourself together, Megabyte," Horton said good- naturedly who turned to Adam, "I have a proposition for you."

Chilled, Adam stared at him, his stomach sinking in dread.