"I can't thank you guys enough for agreeing to come see Mac," Richie said. "I don't know what you did, but I felt so much better after talking to you that night in the loft that I could have gone on the rest of my life without MacLeod."

"But you didn't have to," Paul said. "He's not dead."

"No, but he's troubled. He's just not himself and I don't know what to do."

Scott glanced at his father. In the days since Duncan MacLeod's return, Scott had wanted his father to meet him, but there had been no opportunity. Richie hadn't talked about him, and on his father's advice, Scott had not pushed. "Well, it's not every day someone comes back from the dead. I imagine that's quite a traumatic experience."

In spite of his concern and gloomy mood, Richie couldn't help but smile at Scott's statement as he thought, you have no idea, my friend.

Paul gave Scott a warning look. They'd agreed to not mention the events in the alley. He knew it was unlikely this was the same man they had seen die, but his son was so convinced, he did want to see for himself.

As they approached Joe's tavern, Richie felt the presence of another Immortal. He just hoped it was Mac. Opening the door, he held it as Paul and Scott entered. Scanning the room, he located the buzz coming from the bar and gave a sigh of relief to see it was his friend.

"Hello, Richie," Joe called out, as the three men approached the bar.

"Hi, Joe. I'd like you to meet Scott Hayden, and his father..."

"...Paul Forrester," MacLeod finished.

A look of discomfort crossed Paul's face. Uh-oh, he thought, someone else who knew the real Forrester. I wonder what kind of history they had together. "Yes, I'm Paul Forrester."

Duncan turned back to Joe. "What about that refill?"

There was an uncomfortable silence for several seconds. Richie had never seen Mac be so rude and down right surly. "I take it the two of you know each other?"

The only sound was that of pouring liquid as Joe filled Duncan's glass. "How about you guys? Do you want something?" Paul and Scott ordered fruit juice, and Richie asked for a beer.

While waiting for the drinks to be served, Paul glanced between his son and Richie's friend. With an almost imperceptible nod, Paul acknowledged what Scott already knew. This was the man they had seen die. Paul was very curious about how Duncan MacLeod came to be sitting next to him in this bar. From everything he had learned about humans, rebirth from death wasn't possible for them. He wanted to know more, but knew this wasn't the time to pursue it.

Trying again to start a dialog, Richie turned to Paul, "Where did you guys meet?"

"I...I..." Paul began, but didn't know how to continue. It was always this way when something in the real Forrester's past came up, because Paul didn't have any of the 'other' guy's memories.

"What's the matter?" MacLeod snarled, "Don't you want your son to know about you?"

"Well, it was a long time ago, and perhaps is best left in the past."

To MacLeod it wasn't so long ago as he remembered what had happened twelve years previously in Paris....

..."Just leave me alone!" Tessa shouted.

Forrester smirked at the pretty blond. "I know you want to go out with me. Admit it."

"No! I don't!" She backed away from the man.

"Well, if we can't go out, then maybe we can just take our pleasures here." Forrester advanced towards Tessa and gave her his most charming smile. "That's a nice looking bed over there." Neither Tessa nor Forrester heard MacLeod come silently into the room as Forrester continued, "I'm sure we could put it to some good use."

Stepping back a couple more steps, Tessa picked up a sculpture and held it like a club. "You shouldn't be here."

"That's right. You don't belong here," MacLeod said with a calm that defied what he was really feeling.

Forrester looked over the woman's shoulder at the tall man with the long black hair. "Who are you?"

"I'm the guy who's going to kill you if you don't get out of here." When the man made no move, MacLeod stepped forward, and with menace in his voice said, "Now."

Forrester raised his hands in defeat. "Okay, okay. I was only trying to have a little fun. A pretty woman like that shouldn't be running around alone."

"She's not alone."

As Tessa ran to Duncan and they embraced, Forrester grabbed his camera and slipped out, unnoticed.

"What did he do to you, Tess?" Duncan caressed her face, gently.

"Nothing."

"It wasn't nothing." He hugged her again. Duncan knew he shouldn't have been so threatening to the man, but in his need to defend Tessa, his anger overcame his reason. "Tell me all of it."

The two of them moved to the sofa and sat side by side. Tessa took a couple of deep breaths before starting. "His name is Paul Forrester and he's a photographer. A magazine hired him to take pictures of my exhibition."

"And you didn't tell me about it?"

"I didn't think anything of it. After all, he was there on business and the publicity for the show was welcome. At first he just seemed friendly."

MacLeod took Tessa's hands in his. They were cold. Duncan regretted not being there for her. Why did all the women he loved have to be hurt? "But things changed."

"Yes. Not too long after you left on your trip, he started trying to get me to go out with him. Every day for a week he tried some new line, brought me little gifts, and kept trying to get me to change my mind." She paused and closed her eyes. Her heart was still beating rapidly and she took several breaths to calm herself. "He just wouldn't take no for an answer."

"And today? What was different about today?"

"He followed me home." Tessa embraced her lover and put her head on his shoulder. She breathed in the smell of his cologne and felt his beard stubble against her skin. "Oh, Mac, I didn't even know he was here. I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't come in when you did."

"It looked to me like you were putting up a pretty good defense."

Tessa snuggled closer, feeling only relief that her life companion was with her. She murmured, "Umm, uh-huh."

"It's all right, you're safe now." Duncan stroked her hair gently. "I'm here and I won't let anything happen to you, ever again."....

..."I know something has made you angry, but I'm not that Paul Forrester any more." He placed a hand on MacLeod's arm. "I've changed."

Duncan pulled his arm away and glared at the others, daring them to say or do anything. Why couldn't they just leave him alone. All he wanted was drink and forget.

In the brief contact, Paul saw a flash of images he didn't understand; Men in uniforms, a woman dying, blood, headless bodies, lightning, swords. He also felt the man's misery and hopelessness, but most of all, that strange energy he had felt in Richie. "I think we better go now, Scott."

"Do you have to?" Richie asked. He knew if MacLeod would talk to Paul it would help him to snap out of this mood.

Paul put a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Yes. Maybe there will be another time when things will work out better."

A few minutes after Paul and Scott left the bar, Richie followed. Having MacLeod back like this was almost worse than thinking he was dead.

It was a couple of hours later when Mac called out, "Hey, Joe, I'd like you to do something for me."

Walking to the end of the bar where MacLeod had been sitting all afternoon, Joe sighed, "Get you a seventh bottle of booze?"

"No." He pushed the glass and bottle away. "I want you to check out Forrester. Find out what he's been doing for the last few years and how he came to have a kid."

"Why?" Joe placed the empty glass and bottle behind the counter. He hoped Mac wouldn't ask for more to drink. He'd had enough, even for an Immortal.

"The guy's got an angle of some kind, I know it. Besides, I just don't trust him. He's acting weird."

"He seemed like a nice enough guy to me."

"That's my point, Joe. Paul Forrester is not a nice guy. He's a photojournalist and an opportunist."

"So? There are a lots of reporters in this city."

"Yes, but not all of them are hanging around Richie. That man will stop at nothing to get a story and make a name for himself. A cover story in a news magazine about Immortals and Watchers would be something neither of us wants."

"Yeah," Joe agreed. "I'll see what I can dig up."

"How can he be alive, Dad?" Scott placed the soup on the table as his father got the bowls and utensils from the cupboard. "We both saw him die in that alley and we both saw the same guy yesterday in that bar."

"I know. There is something very unusual about Richie's friend."

"It doesn't make sense. People don't die and then come back to life. It's just too weird."

Paul raised one eyebrow and grinned. "Sort of like an alien landing on the planet?"

"Ah, Dad. I'm trying to be serious here. Unless you think maybe he's some kind of alien?"

As father and son sat down to their meal, Paul's expression sobered. "No, I don't think that. At least I don't recognize him as being of any species I've encountered before."

"You felt the electricity in him too, didn't you?"

Paul paused as he remembered his brief contact with Duncan MacLeod. "Yes, but I'm not sure it's 'electricity' we are feeling. It's more like...like an energy force."

"Well, whatever you call it, it's weird."

"I also saw something else, something I don't understand."

"What?"

"When I touched him I saw scenes of violent death." An involuntary shiver went up Paul's spine. "It was very disturbing."

"What do you think you saw?"

"I don't know. It was almost like they were memories, but I've never gotten such clear impressions from humans before. Some of the stuff couldn't have been memories because they were scenes that looked like the pictures in your history books."

"That doesn't make any sense," Scott said.

"I know it doesn't. That's why I'd like to talk to him and get to know him better."

"I don't think that's going to happen. Forrester must have done something pretty bad to the guy. He didn't want to have anything to do with you."

"I know," Paul agreed, "but we have to find a way. Duncan MacLeod is a man in a great deal of pain. He needs our help."

"Mr. Fox, we've got an inquiry coming through about Paul Forrester." Edna handed the paper to her boss.

George Fox slammed his coffee cup down, almost spilling the contents. Not waiting to read the report, he asked, "From where?"

"Seacouver. I've booked you on a flight that leaves in six hours. It has a couple of long layovers so you'll get there late tomorrow evening."

"Nothing sooner than that? Did you try all the airlines at all the airports?"

"Yes, sir. You could go wait on stand-by, but because of the holiday, all the earlier flights are full."

"Is there any chance I can get backup, Edna?"

His secretary looked at him with regret in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fox, but the general was very specific when he gave the clearance for this trip. You will be on your own out there."

Fox sighed and closed his eyes. I guess I should be thankful I'm being allowed to pursue this lead at all. With so little proof of the alien's existence, this project is not a high priority. "I'll call you as soon as I arrive. You keep monitoring for other inquiries." Fox grabbed his coat and always-packed travel bag and headed to the airport. He hoped some other passenger didn't make his flight so he could get out of town earlier.

Richie jerked his sword upwards, caught MacLeod's katana at the hilt, and pulled it out of his hand. As it skittered across the dojo floor, Richie knocked Mac to his knees with a fist in the solar plexus and placed his rapier at his teacher's throat. "That's three times, Mac. What's wrong with you?"

As he sat back on his heels, Duncan shrugged his shoulders. "I guess I'm a little out of shape."

"Out of shape!" Richie pulled his sword back and thought, this is not the man I knew. "If this weren't practice, you'd be dead right now!"

Duncan looked up at this young man who was just starting his Immortal life with the centuries stretching before him as an unmarked slate. "You know 'there can be only one'."

"Is that all you can say?"

"I think I need a drink." MacLeod got to his feet and started to the elevator.

"You don't need a drink. You need to start fighting like your life depended on it."

"Don't tell me what I need!" MacLeod slammed the elevator gate closed and punched the up button.

Richie let the tip of his sword touch the floor as he watched his friend leave. Ever since the fiasco at Joe's yesterday, Richie had been trying to figure out a way to get Mac to talk to Scott and Paul. He went into the office and made a phone call.

"I don't like lying, Scott."

"It's not really telling a lie, Dad. We're just going to 'accidentally' be at the dojo when Mac shows up. I have been practicing with Richie and you just decided to come along this time. You wanted to see what I was learning."

Paul gave his son a look that said he didn't approve as they entered the building. He sat on a bench against the wall and watched as Richie and Scott began working out.

It surprised Scott when he managed to land a solid blow against Richie's side, but something had distracted his friend. Turning in the direction Richie was looking, Scott soon heard the elevator coming down.

When MacLeod opened the gate, he took one look at the assembled group. Wanting no part of another meeting with Forrester, he started to pull the gate closed.

"Mac, wait," Richie called as he ran to stop the elevator. "Scott's father has come to see what we do here. I thought we could show him some moves."

Duncan scowled, but then his expression changed to a devilish grin. "Sure, I'll show Mr. Forrester some things." He strode over to where Paul sat. "So you want me to teach you something about the martial arts?"

Standing, Paul said, "Well, I always like to learn new things."

"No, Mac" Richie interrupted. "I meant you and I would give a demonstration."

"I think Mr. Forrester would learn more my way." Gesturing to the mat, he asked, "Shall we?"

With a glance at his son, Paul moved to the middle of the room. Five seconds later, he was flat on his back. He looked up at the sneer on MacLeod's face, and got to his feet. Twice more, he landed on the floor. Each brief physical contact gave Paul a little insight into this mystery man.

"You're not doing very well for a guy who thinks he's hot stuff," MacLeod taunted.

From his position at Duncan's feet, Paul said, "I'm not the same Paul Forrester you knew."

"Oh, really."

Paul stood and placed a hand on Duncan's shoulder before he could be thrown again. "Don't you believe people can change? Don't you think it's possible for someone to leave one life, move on and become someone completely different?"

Staring into the eyes of this man, Duncan felt a calmness come over him. He didn't know how to answer the question for it came too close to what he and all Immortals had to do every decade or so. He said nothing.

A jumble of images filled Paul's mind. There was pain, joy, love, and hate. There were scenes of unspeakable horror, anonymous killing in wars and individual hand-to-hand combat. He saw many nights of passion with a variety of women. But the overriding emotions coming from this man were anger and fear. "You wonder why you're still alive after that night in the alley."

"What? How...how do you know about that?" Mac stammered.

"My son and I were there. We saw you and the woman fighting with swords. We saw you...die."

Part 4

This page hosted by Get your own Free Home Page