Author: Michael Weyer
Title: Of Immortal Life and Liberty
Copyright: November 2001
JAG owned by CBS
Highlander owned by Rysher Entertainment
X-Files owned by Ten Thirteen Productions
Matthew Connors, Alice Fairchild, Perry Leiter, Valerie Rosthon, Megan Maguire and Bartholomew Hawkthorne are all mine.
A bit of explanation. This uses characters introduced in a story I wrote a few years back called "First Time Out." That was set in a
different universe than the Wanderer tales (which hadn't even been started yet) but after careful consideration, I think it could stand as a
possible Wanderer tale. So, reading that might be a good intro to some characters here.
Thanks to Steve for letting me do this and to Tim for dialogue help.
Spoilers:
For "JAG", up to the two part episode in Australia, only here, Mic didn't ask Mac to marry him.
This story is dedicated to the Men and Women of the United States Armed Forces.
JAG Headquarters
Church Falls, VA
April 29th, 1999
0911 Hours EST
Commander Harmon Rabb used to consider himself a pretty timely guy. When you're in the military, punctuality was key, after all and Harm liked to believe he had it down pretty well. But after she was assigned to the Judge Advocate General, he realized Major Sarah MacKenzie had him beat cold.
"Tell me something, Mac," Harm said as he came into the JAG office, throwing a salute to his partner. "How is it that a person who doesn't even own an alarm clock can never be late?"
"Internal clock and getting to bed early," Mac replied, giving her partner a quick smile. The two were a study in contrast: He was a tall, well-built man with short dark hair and a handsome face, who put a lot of build into his Navy uniform. She could have been a tomboy if not for the incredible beauty of her features, her short brown hair smoothly cut to show them off and not even her crisp Marine uniform could hide the curves of her very-in-shape body. They were a contrast in other ways too, with her love of meat while he was a strict diet freak. Pretty much the one thing they had in common was a dedication to duty, a skill at flying and a brilliant style in court.
"Getting to bed early?" Harm asked, raising an eyebrow. "So, I guess Mic went back to Oz?"
Mac rolled her eyes at the comment about her current boyfriend Mic Brumby, an officer in the Australian navy. "Please. If I wanted prying into my personal affairs, I'd talk to Webb."
"No need to get nasty, Major," Harm replied evenly. "Just making sure you're okay."
"I'm fine," Mac replied, smirking. "How's Renee?"
"Ah," Harm said, flinching a bit. "She had to go back to L.A. suddenly, some big production meeting."
"Oh, it's so tough to have a girlfriend in the Hollywood biz," Mac smirked. "Makes you eager to point out just how inaccurate her compatriots are in showing our work."
Before Harm could reply, Lt. Bud Roberts popped in, his attitude a little more nervous than usual. "Um, Commander, Major? The Admiral wants to see you, something big's come up."
"Thanks, Bud," Harm replied, nodding to his friend as he and Mac headed towards the office. Bud watched them go and shook his head a bit, wondering when those two were ever going to get their acts together. He hoped it'd be soon, if only so Harriet could stop talking about them so much.
Both Harm and Mac had their own thoughts as they headed towards the office at the end of the open room. Harm supposed he shouldn't have been prying so much into Mac's affairs but the fact was he didn't like Mic. It had taken a while for him to figure out what it was. He thought it was the arrogance or the secretive side or the way he kept telling everyone what a great guy he was. But that wasn't it. No, Harm had finally realized the reason he didn't like Mic was very simple.
Because Mac was with him and not with Harm.
In retrospect, Harm supposed he'd fallen in love with Mac the first time he saw her and not just because she looked incredibly like his dead former girlfriend Dianne. No, he loved her strength, her courage and how she held herself together despite problems ranging from a troubled divorce to her alcoholism. He loved her, it was that simple but like an idiot, he'd never told her about it before she hooked up with Mic. It wasn't that Harm didn't like Renee, she was funny, smart, sexy as hell but.....
She wasn't Mac. No one could be. But Harm knew that chance had passed and so he just had to keep quiet, knowing there was no way Mac was going to break up a relationship with a guy who (as much as Harm hated to admit it) was a pretty good match for her. *Dammit.*
Mac glanced at Harm, hoping she hadn't flinched too much when he'd asked about Mic. The fact was, Mic had offered to stay in America for a while but Mac had told him he should go back and make sure he didn't get into trouble. The truth was that Mac had been thinking a lot of just where she and Mic were going and she just didn't know if they could make things work due to a simple fact.
She was in love with Harm.
She had never expected herself to fall in love with him. Hell, after what she went through with the divorce, she hadn't expected to fall in love with anyone. But it had happened. She didn't know exactly when, but she knew she loved him, despite the way he could occasionally drive her crazy. He'd stood by her when she fell off the wagon and had helped her out a few times since. It wasn't that Mic was all that bad, it was that......
He just wasn't Harm. No one could be. But Harm had Renee now, as much as Mac hated it. She made him happy and Mac supposed that was good. She just wished she could be the one happy with him but knew that was never going to happen. *Dammit.*
Those thoughts passed through their heads as they knocked on the office door. "Enter," barked the voice from the other side and Harm opened the door, Mac stepping through with him following. The two stood before the desk and threw a crisp salute at the man behind it.
Admiral A.J. Chegwidden glanced up from the papers on his desk, his balding head actually adding to the aura of power and authority he had as he took in the two military lawyers. "At ease," he said, the two lowering their hands. "Have a seat. A case has just come up that I'm assigning you two to. It's rather touchy on the political side so you'll have to be careful about it."
"What is it, sir?" Harm asked.
Chegwidden passed over two folders, the two opening them up to scan the contents. They saw a photo of a cruiser, the front of it showing signs of some sort of explosion, twisted metal and debris evident. "This is Hastings Bay, base on the Massachusetts coast," Chegwidden said. "That's the *Reliant,* one of the cruisers recently reassigned to the area. An explosion occurred on it last night, they've just sent us the information now."
"Any idea on the cause?" Harm asked, all business as he and Mac perused the report.
"The base's commander, Lt. Admiral Terry Hawkins, has said that from preliminary reports, the cause seems to be human error, involving a young ensign who was supposed to be on the lookout for trouble. He indicates the ensign, who was killed in the explosion, might have set something off in the munitions department and sparked the detonation."
"The base commander is blaming an ensign for the explosion?" Harm asked, sharing a look with Mac.
"That's right," the Admiral nodded. "It seems he was only two months out of Annapolis."
"And the ensign was killed in the blast?" Mac asked, glancing at Harm.
"Yes, he was," Chegwidden nodded.
"Which makes things very cut and dried," Harm nodded.
"Or so it seems," Mac pointed out.
Chegwidden looked from one to the other and frowned. "Commander, Major, is there a point to this?"
"Well, sir," Mac started. "It's just that an accident of some sort that results in the death of a junior officer, who in turn is blamed for the accident by his superior? It's almost like the Commander and I are stuck in a television rerun."
"Thank you for that lovely insight, Major," Chegwidden said impatiently. "Now, this is a very delicate situation as the base is going to be hosting a meeting between U.S. officers and diplomats and representatives from Russia. They're planning to sign a major treaty that will allow Russian ships better freedom near U.S. coastlines and vice versa. It took a lot of work to get that treaty through on both sides so they want to keep the meeting on time."
"When is it?" Mac asked.
"Day after tomorrow," Chegwidden said.
"May Day?" Harm asked.
"Russians like the symbolism of it," Chegwidden shrugged. "That's why I want you two to try and settle this quick and fast. I've already arranged for a car to the airport, I want you both packed and ready to go by 1030 hours. If the report is accurate, then it should be fast. If not, try to keep it from blowing up into a major incident. Is that understood?"
"Yes, sir," Harm and Mac replied, both standing and saluting Chegwidden. They turned to leave, neither having even the slightest clue of just how a simple assignment was going to change their lives forever.
Hastings Bay, MA
1423 Hours EST
Hastings Bay was a small town, a mix of colonial stylings most Massachusetts towns had and the comforts of today, a shopping center near the center of the town, a few convenience stores but otherwise, it was pretty much a quiet town. The naval base was set off from some of the homes that were by the water and was pretty expansive.
One thing the two JAG lawyers shared was that neither believed in wasting time and had only stopped at their hotel long enough to set down their bags before taking their rental car to the base. After making their way past the gate, they were led to the office of the base's commander.
Jr. Admiral Terry Hawkins was an imposing man, standing over six feet tall, filling out his uniform, his short hair graying slightly, his demeanor all business. "Commander, Major," he said, saluting them, the two returning it. "I was surprised to hear the JAG office was sending someone out so fast."
"Well, you do have that big conference coming, sir," Harm said as he and Mac sat down across from him. "We want to try and take care of this quickly."
"Well, it's pretty much open and shut," Hawkins sighed. "It's a damn shame, really. Ensign Masters did have potential. It just seems he was overwhelmed by the assignment."
"Just what was his assignment?" Mac asked. "That wasn't made quite clear."
"He was helping to move some of the munitions from the ship," Hawkins explained. "I wanted to clear out any overly hazardous materials before the conference, just to be safe. We're still going through the wreckage but it does appear that Ensign Masters must have dropped one of the explosive devices, triggering the blast."
"That's pretty detailed information for such a short wait, sir," Harm said, furrowing his brow.
Hawkins fixed a gaze at him. "Is there a problem, Commander."
"Well, sir, I am curious as to how you know it was Masters who dropped the ball, so to speak."
"He was the only one in the area," Hawkins stated. "He was on duty and the last the sentries saw, he was inside the munitions room, taking inventory before I sent some men in to start moving it. The sentries made note of his spot, moved off and about two minutes later, the explosion hit."
"It still seems a bit odd," Mac said. "Why would he have been messing with the explosives like that?"
"Maybe he was counting them, pulled a pin and didn't even realize it," Hawkins said. "Look, Commander, Major, I'm not trying to sound utterly insensitive. I do feel sorry for his family but the fact is that we have a very large event occurring here the day after tomorrow. We can have the damaged area covered up for it but if we're talking a full-scale, ongoing for weeks investigation, I really don't think I can handle that."
"With all due respect, sir," Harm said carefully. "We make our own investigations and we decide at what pace they proceed. If we have to be on that ship looking when the conference is going on, we'll do it, believe me."
Mac watched her partner and felt a little thrill. Damn, Harm could be good bluffing the brass and letting them know he was more interested in getting to the truth than politics. Hawkins looked Harm in the eye for a few moments before looking down. "Sorry, Commander," he said in a softer tone. "I'm under a lot of pressure to get this thing done and done right and then this happens. I am sorry for what happened to the ensign, but getting this handled fast is a concern.
I'm hoping you can help with that."
"Well, sir, if we can see the site of the blast, we can get a good idea of what we're looking at," Mac stated.
"I'm afraid that area is still rather volatile," Hawkins said. "We've still got men in protective suits there, we're not sure if there's still some munitions that could be triggered. Maybe by tomorrow, we'll have it fully contained but for right now, it's too dangerous to enter."
"Well, is there a place we can start, sir?" Harm said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
"There's the base's chief mechanic," Hawkins said. "Hopefully, he can give you info."
"Hopefully?" Mac frowned. "You don't think he knows anything yet?"
"No, he may know something," Hawkins shrugged. "But it's a question as to how he'll be able to relate that to you."
Harm and Mac exchanged a confused look as Hawkins sat back in his chair and sighed.
Technically, Bartholomew Hawkthorne wasn't military. He had been an engineer for a British ship who was dropped off at the base and had somehow gotten work there. He was good at his job, often called on to help with emergency repairs and leading the work teams on the base. At the moment, he was standing before the *Reliant,* leading the repairs on the ship, taking a break to talk to Harm and Mac.
He appeared to be in his forties, a heavyset man with slicked-back red hair, grease seemingly always covering his face and was wearing an old-fashioned pair of coveralls with a cap. Harm and Mac found it useful to run over his bio and appearance seeing as how they couldn't understand a thing the guy was saying.
"So, I gos through the debris and wreck and weldings and find the boom-boom room," Hawkthorne said in a loud voice that seemed to carry a mix of various accents and dialects into a bizzare mix of extremely broken English. "She be messy and all and no easy picnics to get through, me tell ya. Anywhos, I find that the boom-doom may not boom for reasons you may supposes, ya savvy?"
Harm leaned in to his partner. "Are you getting any of this?"
"Not a damn word," Mac responded.
"The room, she not have the same scruffings and such as from a grenade boom-boom," Hawkthorne went on. "It be not a good matching of ups and all that."
"It's English," Mac muttered. "At least, I'm pretty sure it is."
Harm sighed and shook his head. "Mr. Hawkthorne, is there anything of importance you can tell us?"
Hawkthorne rolled his bushy eyebrows. "Been you not hearing? I be telling ya, the blow-ups dinna appear to be for the grenades, looka like something else went boom, savvy?"
Harm took a moment to take in his words before responding. "Are you trying to tell us that the cause of the explosion wasn't a grenade?"
"Bongo-bingo," Hawkthorne nodded, his mouth grinning wide at them. "I be trying to call that to Hawkins, but he not listening too nearly. Me thinks the talkings, they are distracting him."
"Not like you talking could," Mac muttered. "And I thought second-year exams were unintelligible."
A loud screeching from the ship got Hawkthorne's attention and he turned around to see the crews running around on it. "Hot damns, they be messing up!" He started to run off towards the ship, throwing a last comment back at the two lawyers. "Be trying to get more factuals towards ya, no probby!"
Harm and Mac watched him leave and turned towards each other. "It's times like this," Harm remarked. "When I don't wonder if maybe Bartlett's got a point about military cutbacks."
"I don't like this," Mac muttered, shaking her head as she went over the file, she and Harm walking off the base. "This whole thing just seems too cut and dried, too easy. And Hawkthorne's comments didn't help settle it."
"I'll go with you on the last part," Harm nodded as they neared the gate. "Somehow, though, even this conference doesn't seem enough for Hawkins to instigate such a cover-up."
"He is hiding something, though," Mac stated. "You can tell he knew more than he told us."
"That he did," Harm nodded. "Again, though, I don't see why such a veteran like him would do something like that."
Mac was about to respond when she spotted a man near the front gate of the base, chatting to a guard. "Harm.....Is that who I think it is?"
Harm looked over at the man. He was heavyset, in his late forties, with white hair and a nice suit, which seemed quite out of place in the military setting. It took a moment for the face to connect in Harm's mind and when it did, his eyes widened. "Damn, is that who I think it is?"
"Looks like," Mac nodded as the two walked over towards the man. He looked up at them, revealing a tanned face that had spent quite a few weeks in some sunny spot. "Excuse me," Harm said. "Are you John Yates?"
The man looked at them, a slight smile on his face. "Yes, I am," he said, his eyes twinkling a bit at the recognition. "Have we met."
"No, sir," Harm said. "But we're both fans of your work. I'm Commander Harmon Rabb, this is Major Sarah MacKenzie."
"We're with the Judge Advocate General," Mac explained as she shook Yates' hand.
"Ah, yes," Yates nodded. "JAG. I've done some research on them in the past. What brings you by?"
"A case," Harm answered smoothly. "What about you, what brings you here?"
"Research for my next book," Yates said. "I'm still getting a feel for the way the military has changed in the last few years. Used to be so simple, strict rules between America and the Soviet Union. Now, there's new stuff added every year, makes it hard to keep up."
"Well, I hope you can make it work," Harm said. "I enjoyed 'Cross of the Navy' a lot."
"And I still love reading 'Semper's Fi,'" Mac added. "It's been a while since you did something."
"Well, it does take a while to research these things," Yates shrugged. "But I hope that I can be inspired by current events. The way the world changes always makes for good material."
"Good to hear it," Harm said as he and Mac walked off, the two glancing back at Yates before going on. "Funny," Harm said. "I always told myself that if I ever met him face-to-face, I'd tell him how horrible his last book was."
"Not that bad," Mac said. "It definitely helped balance out my table."
R.J. Murphy's Sports Grill
2136 Hours EST
There was pretty much only one place in the entire town that could balance out the differing diets between the two JAG lawyers and R.J.'s was it. The two had changed to civilian clothes, jeans for both, a short shirt and jacket for Mac and a loose Navy sweatshirt for Harm, and found the diner, located a few blocks from the base. As such, there were quite a few off-duty personnel there, most distracted by the baseball games playing out on the televisions spread out along the bar.
"I don't like this," Harm muttered as he gazed at the table.
"For crying out loud, they didn't have the exact salad dressing you wanted!" Mac shot out as she chewed on her burger.
"No, no, not that," Harm frowned, lifting the file on his table a bit, his half-eaten salad by the side. He took a swig from his soft drink as he read. He didn't drink as much beer as he once did, partly because of it didn't send the right message for his line of work. But the bigger reason lately was that he didn't want to make Mac feel uncomfortable, a tiny touch he hoped helped a bit. "This file just seems off."
"How so?" Mac asked, sipping at her Coke.
"Well, for a guy who just got out of Annapolis, Masters seemed to be doing okay for himself," Harm said. "He had an apartment off base instead of staying at the barracks and the report says it was pretty well stocked. Top of the line entertainment system with plenty of CD's and DVD's, satellite dish and more."
"Not exactly the usual poor life of a lowly ensign," Mac frowned. "Was he from a wealthy family?"
"No," Harm shook his head. "Father was a steel worker, mother a Wal-Mart clerk, somewhat hard upbringing."
"So, how could he get the money to buy all that?" Mac asked.
" I think I may know," a voice suddenly cut into their conversation. The two turned to look at a young man who stood before them. By his demeanor, they could tell he was military, probably Navy, a little under Mac's height, with red hair and a nice, cheerful expression.
"I'm sorry," the man said, giving a salute. "Lt. Billy Andersen, I'm with the supply and accounting branch on the base."
"At ease," Harm said. "What do you want, Lieutenant?"
"Well, sir, ma'am, I heard you had come investigating what happened and I think I may have some information for you," Andersen explained as he sat down at their table, pulling out some sheets of paper.
"Did Admiral Hawkins send you?" Harm asked.
"Actually, sir, no," Andersen admitted, letting out a sheepish smile.
"Then I don't know if it's right for you to share this with us first," Mac said, sharing a look with her partner.
"I realize that, Major," Andersen nodded. "It's just that I was going through records as usual and it's usually SOP to check things out after a death in personnel. I was handling the cyber stuff on Masters when I came across something interesting." He lay out the paper on the free space on the table. "See, these are bank records for Masters, it wasn't too hard to read, actually, maybe he should have hid them better."
"Why would he have hidden them?" Harm asked, looking over the sheets of paper and the data they contained.
Andersen pointed to a line on the paper. "This is about two months before Masters graduated. The guy spent his entire time at Annapolis with barely a thousand to his name. Suddenly, he's gotten a big load of cash dumped into his account, $10,000. He got more with graduation, then when he was assigned to the base. And here, this is only two weeks ago, another dump, almost $20,000."
"That explains the personal stuff," Mac nodded as she took the sheet from Harm to examine. "I don't understand why someone would be paying some fresh-faced swabbie so much cash for no reason."
"Do you know who made the payments?" Harm asked.
"I didn't get that far," Andersen said, shaking his head. "I just printed up the data a few hours ago. I stopped by your motel as soon as I got off-duty, you weren't there so I figured you'd be here."
"And you haven't shown this to Hawkins?" Harm clarified.
"I haven't shared it with anyone, sir," Andersen stated. "I thought since you're the investigating officers, you should be the first to see it."
"Well, keep it under wraps for now," Harm nodded as he picked up the papers, he and Mac starting to make moves to leave. "We may have to call on you to explain this to Hawkins later."
"Certainly, sir," Andersen nodded. "Do you want me to keep checking the files, see who made the deposits?"
"No, I think this will more than do for now," Harm said as he motioned for the check, neither he nor Mac noticing the looks they were getting from a few of the bar's inhabitants.
The drive to the motel from the base area took Harm and Mac past some rather nice forest area, rather quiet at this time of night, Harm driving while Mac used the car's light to look at the records some more. "Well, this would indicate our good Ensign Masters wasn't the spiffy-clean sailor he seemed to be," Mac noted as she flipped through the file.
"But it still leaves us with a big question," Harm pointed out. "Who would pay him so much and for what? This is a lot of money to be handing over to anyone and that last payment indicates it was for something big."
"Well, I think this actually lends more credence to the accident theory," Mac sighed. "I doubt someone was paying Masters almost $50,000 to blow himself to pieces."
Harm's opened his mouth to reply when a flash of light suddenly cut through the car. Harm's eyes blinked instinctively at the sudden light. He somehow knew that it was the lights from another car rushing at him and instinctively turned the wheel to the side. Unfortunately, that left the car a bit more wide open to the van that smashed into it from the side, riding out of a small opening from the woods and pushing the car off the road and down a small hill.
It ended up on its tires, the windshield shattered, dents and smashes covering the surface. Both Harm and Mac had the wind knocked out of them, their seatbelts holding them in as they instinctively glanced up towards the hill. The van had stopped and two men stepped out of it. Each wore black clothing, the glow of the van's headlights outlining them but not showing features. But they did show the silenced pistols in their hands, pointed down at the car. They opened fire, some shots missing. But not all.
Harm's hands went to his seatbelt but before he could even touch it, he felt the sudden impact of bullets in him, two in his chest, another in his stomach. Mac gasped as she felt a fire rip through her right breast and lower abdomen, another in her sternum and still another in her shoulder. Each knew the shots were fatal and each knew it wouldn't be long before death claimed them.
Harm was a bit surprised to see that his life, indeed, was flashing before his eyes as the pain seemed to dull a bit, not a good sign. As the flash ended, he was struck by how the last person he could think of right now was the one who was going through the same thing.
Although it hurt, Harm turned his head to the side to look at Mac. He felt another pain, this from seeing blood trickling from her mouth, ugly red blotches on the front of her shirt. She seemed to sense his stare and looked back at him. Harm took one look at those eyes and knew immediately that there was one thing he had to do before he left this life.
"Sarah," he choked out. "I'm sorry....."
Mac saw the guilt in his eyes and felt horrible that he could blame himself for this. "No....Not....not your fault....."
"Not this...." Harm shook his head. "I...." He swallowed, trying to get enough strength to say what he had to say. "I meant.....I love you, Sarah....I'm sorry I never....I love you....."
Mac felt tears in her eyes and not from the pain. "I love you too, Harm...." she whispered. "I love you....."
Harm managed to get a small smile on his lips before he grimaced in pain. He slammed his head against the car seat as the last wave came over him. He slumped down as a final breath left his mouth. Mac watched him go but didn't feel to bad, knowing she'd be joining him soon enough. With her last ounce of strength, she put her hand into his, then closed her eyes and let the blackness overtake her.
The two men came down the hill, no words spoken. They were quick and clean, reaching in and opening the car doors. They quickly took the records from the floor and then rummaged through the duo's clothing, taking away any ID they might have had. Without a word, they went back to the van, which backed up and drove into the night. Behind it, the bodies of Harmon Rabb Jr. and Sarah MacKenzie sat, their hands still joined, finally together in death.
Hastings Bay Medical Examiner's Lab
April 29, 1999
2256 Hours EST
It had been when he no longer needed nose plugs every time he started his shift that Perry Leiter knew he had been at this job a bit too long. He still needed them depending on the condition of the bodies and how long they had been lying out but he had managed to block out the usual smell of a corpse with surprising ease.
It was silent inside the small lab, per usual for a morgue. There was a chill in the air as Perry walked about, checking the chart with the sheet of paper letting him know what he was in for. He was 36, with short black hair, somewhat handsome but carrying himself with a bearing of inquisitiveness, always seeming curious about life in general. And, in particular, how it ended.
It was generally a given that a medical examiner wasn't as normal as other people might seem. After all, a person who chose to spend his nights cutting up dead bodies wasn't exactly the same as someone who worked in an office. Perry didn't mind his job, after all, someone had to do it and to tell the truth, it was always interesting to see how death affected bodies differently.
He paced about, wearing a lab coat over his jeans and light shirt, pulling on a visor as he got ready to go. He placed a small tape recorder on a table near some of his equipment, pushed down on the record button and began to speak. "April 29, 1999, 10:56 P.M., Medical Examiner Perry Leiter on duty. So, let's see what's on the hit parade this evening, shall we? Wow, only three to play with, guess I'm lucky tonight. Two multiple gunshot wounds and a strangulation.
Rapture."
Perry's light and jovial banter wasn't exactly the delivery one would have expected from a coroner and his superiors had often said he should be a bit more business-like with his reports. However, seeing as how he was the best coroner in the county, they put up with him, figuring a man with his job should be commended for such a good attitude, as long as it didn't take away from his work.
Perry walked over to the two tables in the middle of the lab. It wasn't a large place, Hastings Bay wasn't that big of a town, a dozen slabs set up in case of a disaster, with refrigeration units along one wall. But only three of the tables were filled at that moment. Perry moved to two of them and pulled down the sheets to expose their faces.
He took them in, the handsome and strong man and the young but still strong-looking woman, her face seeming more beautiful as she looked to be asleep. "Damn," Perry muttered. "How come when the good die young, they always have to look so good?"
Rising, he looked over the police report, trying to figure a starting place. "Two Does, no ID or other evidence to indicate their names," he spoke out for the recorder. "Found in a ditch earlier this evening, DOA, multiple gunshot wounds to both." He paused and read a little line at the bottom. "Holding each other's hands. Nice, a couple of sweethearts here."
Reaching down, Leiter pulled the sheet off of the woman's body to reveal herself. He gave it a quick, professional glance. Not bad, nice large chest, great build, observing it with not really a thought at all as how beautiful the woman was, she was just a body now. He frowned suddenly at what he saw. Or rather, didn't see.
He turned and pulled the sheet off of the man's body as well, seeing, or not seeing, the same thing. Sighing, he picked up the recorder and spoke into it. "Okay, someone screwed up here. There is not one sign whatsoever of any bullet wounds so I don't know what happened or who changed corpses on me but this is------"
It was at exactly that moment when Harm's eyes shot open and a huge draw of breath came out as he came back to life. He sat up, his gasps filling the morgue as he tried to bring breath back into his body.
Perry Leiter did what many a person might do if a corpse suddenly came back to life before them: He let out a yell, his arms flaying about, the tape recorder coming loose and smashing against a wall, wrecking the tape. Perry stood, staring in shock as Harm shook his head, trying to get his bearings.
Harm's mind was trying to catch up. He remembered the shots, the pain and all that and passing out too so a hospital was the first thing that popped into his mind. He looked up at Perry and opened his mouth. "Ghac----" He coughed a bit, trying to get his voice working again. "Get Get out of Get out of my room!"
"You're not in a room, you're in a morgue," Perry automatically answered.
"Get out of my morgue!" Harm yelled. He paused as Perry's words sunk in. "Morgue?" he whispered, taking notice of his surroundings for the first time. His eyes fell on the table next to him, widening as he took notice of Mac's body. "Mac? Oh, God, Mac, no."
The table shook suddenly as Mac's body quivered, her mouth opening and taking a huge breath, her eyes shooting wide open and gazing about wildly. She sat up, heaving with breaths, trying to process what had happened to her.
Perry Leiter was used to feeling stopped hearts. He just never counted on his own being one of them as he watched another resurrection before him. "Oh my God," he whispered, his mouth dry as he saw Mac gaze about. She looked to Harm and relief washed over her features. "Harm?" she whispered. "Are we----?"
"I hope so," Harm said. "Because this doesn't look like Heaven and I don't think even we screwed up enough to end up in the other place." He looked to Mac and suddenly felt his arms around her, holding her tight. "Oh, God, Sarah," he whispered. "I thought I'd lost you."
"Lost me?" she whispered back. "What about me losing you?"
"What the FUCK is going on here?!" Perry screamed, getting their attention. "How how did-----What is this? Who the hell are you two?"
"Commander Harmon Rabb, U.S. Navy," Harm automatically replied.
"Major Sarah MacKenzie, U.S. Marine Corps," Mac chimed in.
"Perry Leiter, ME," Perry threw in. "Fine, that's handled, let me repeat. What the FUCK is going on here?!"
"We'll ask the questions, mister," Harm said, feeling his strength return as he faced Perry.
"Since when?" Perry said, rising to the defense despite his shock. "I'm the coroner!"
"We're lawyers," Mac answered.
"DA or defense attorneys?" Perry frowned.
"Military," Harm answered.
Perry rolled his eyes. "Oh, great, now even the Navy's sporting ambulance chasers."
"Hey!" Mac said, insulted.
Perry looked at her. "You're not an ambulance chaser?"
"I'm a Marine!" Mac yelled back.
"A Marine?" Perry groaned. "Great. One, she's a lawyer, two, she's a Marine, three..." he paused to think. "MacKenzie. Great, she's Scottish too. Those Highlanders are nuts!"
"Could be worse," Harm put in. "At least she's not Irish."
"Well, you've got a point," Perry nodded. He suddenly shook his head. "Wait a minute, what am I doing, how the hell can you two be alive?"
"I've got a better question for you," Mac said, trying to get some control of the situation. "How come we're in a morgue, like we're dead?"
"Because five minutes ago, you were."
At Perry's matter-of-fact delivery, both Harm and Mac froze in shock, staring at him. "What?" Mac whispered.
"Dead," Perry calmly replied. "As in deceased. As in passed on. No heartbeat, no pulse, no metabolic process, skin getting cold, the proverbial doornail, D-E-A-D, dead."
The two JAG lawyers continued to stare at him, both remembering what happened. "Those shots," Harm muttered. "Those wounds, they were too big, we couldn't have-----"
"No way," Mac said, shaking her head. "No way we could have survived that."
"And let's not forget that neither of you have a mark on your bodies," Perry threw in.
Harm and Mac looked down at themselves and their unblemished skin. It took a moment for the two to realize that they were both standing naked in the middle of the room and with a combined yelp, raced to wrap themselves in the sheets lying on the slabs. "You couldn't have said anything?" Mac demanded, wrapping the sheet over her body.
"I'm used to naked people," Perry shrugged. "Course, they're usually in worse shape but it's really nothing new with you two."
"I'll save being insulted for later," Harm replied as Perry moved to a nearby locker. Opening it, he began to rummage through the piles of clothing inside, trying to find something that looked like it could fit the two but didn't have a lot of blood on it. "Come on, come on, I know someone's always dumping laundry in here when I'm not around," he muttered.
Harm and Mac were silent, each lost in thought, trying to figure out what had just happened to them. They shared a brief glance, each remembering the last thing they had said to the other and realizing they now had to live with that.
"Okay, here we go," Perry's voice cut through their thoughts, throwing some piles of clothes at them. "I know they're not the best of the bunch, but it's the best I've got," he said as Harm and Mac looked over the mismatched shoes and socks with dubious looks. "Look, just throw them on and fast, I've gotta get you two out of here so we can figure this out."
"Why?" Mac asked as she turned around, trying to pull on her tight jeans while still holding the sheet over her.
"Because either the Second Coming is happening early and not according to scripture or we've got some major weirdness to handle," Perry shot back at her. "So hurry up."
"And I thought my drill sergeant was pushy," Mac muttered as she pulled a blue shirt over her head. She slid on socks and shoes and jumped to the floor. As she looked down, a tag caught her eye, attached to the toe of the other body in the room. "Oh my God," Mac said, stunned.
"What?" Harm asked as he stood up, pulling on a gray sweatshirt to go with his own jeans. He moved to where Mac was, watching as she pulled down the sheet covering the body.
"Aw, God, don't tell me there's going to be a three-peat," Perry groaned. He walked up as Mac and Harm both stared at the body. "What? What is it?"
"Shit," Harm muttered. "Andersen."
Indeed, lying on the table was the young computer officer the two had met only a few hours before, his eyes closed, skin turning white, except for a large red mark around his throat. "You know him?" Perry asked as he came up behind them.
Harm nodded. "We met him tonight. When did this happen?"
"Well, his body came in about the same time as yours," Perry answered, the clinical side of himself taking over. "He was found in his car, cause of death apparently strangulation, no clues or leads so far."
"Dammit," Mac muttered, shaking her head. "I kind of liked him." She straightened as a thought struck her. "Harm, they took him out the same time they tried to kill us."
"Try nothing, lady," Perry threw in.
Harm ignored him as he thought about what Mac was suggesting. "He gave us the info, they killed him and they hit us too. Someone's covering their tracks, he must really have been onto something."
"Excuse me, Tommy and Tuppenance?" Perry broke in.
The two looked at him in confusion. "The main detectives of 'Partners in Crime,'" Perry answered. "Agatha Christie, 1927. Anyway, I suggest we continue this elsewhere? Right now, I think we've got matters that can't wait for later to handle."
The Early Bird Diner
2343 Hours EST
The diner didn't get as many customers as the grill Harm and Mac had been in earlier that night, especially at this time of night. The 24-hour diner was a haven for people on the late shift or getting off of one but was still rather quiet right now, only a few people at the counter and a booth at the end. Another booth near the windows held Perry, who sat opposite Harm and Mac, all three silent as the coffee on the table went untouched.
"This can't be happening," Mac said, running a hand through her hair. "I mean.....we couldn't have actually died."
"Hey, I can't accept it either," Perry said. He had shed his coat and wore a light jacket over his street clothes. "But it's happened."
"Are you sure?" Harm asked for about the fourth time since they had come here from the morgue, which was only a few blocks away. "I mean, are you sure we weren't unconscious or----"
"Rabb, trust me, the cops in this town are not the local yokels you may think they are," Perry broke in. "They don't send me bodies unless they're pretty damn sure the people are dead. I've been around enough morgues to know a corpse when I see one. And buddy, you and your partner here were doing a pretty damn good impression of some less than an hour ago."
"But this can't be possible," Mac said. "People just don't come back from the dead!"
"Preaching to the choir here," Perry said, holding up his hands. "And the fact that you two have done it is scaring the hell out of me."
"Hey, we're the ones who died, pal!" Harm hissed. "How the hell do you think we feel?"
Perry held his gaze and then turned his head down, sighing. "Sorry," he muttered. "It's just....I don't know how to handle this."
"Join the club," Mac sighed. Before she could add anything, she gasped in pain, gripping her head and leaning over the table. At the same instant, Harm also grabbed at his head, letting out a similar cry as a sharp, stinging pain cut through it, a strange buzz filling his entire body, just like Mac at the same moment.
Perry jumped back a bit in his seat as he stared at the two. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.
"I don't know," Harm said, rubbing his temples. He glanced at Mac, who was moving back into an upright seated position. "You felt that too?"
"Hell, yeah," Mac said, her eyes moving towards the entrance to the diner, just as Harm's did. Perry turned to see just what the two were looking at and caught the figure who was staring right back at them.
She appeared to be young, late teens, maybe 17, tops. She wasn't tall but had a trim and fit body, which appeared to be pretty lithe, clad in loose pants and a sweatshirt. She looked like she'd been out for a jog or something else of a physical exercise, her light brown hair done up in a ponytail that drifted past her shoulders. There were two odd things that the three noticed: One was that over her outfit she wore a long coat that seemed out of place even with the cool air. The second was that she bore an amazing resemblance to the original Pink Power Ranger.
The woman stared at the booth for a long moment before starting forward, holding the three's gaze carefully as she walked up, pausing before their table. She looked at Harm and Mac, then at Perry. Without a word, she grabbed Perry's right arm and turned it over, pulling down the arm of his shirt to look at the underside of his wrist. After a quick glance, she pushed the arm away.
Perry looked at her, then at Harm and Mac, who were as baffled as he was by the strange action. "Okay," he said calmly, holding up his other wrist. "You want to go for two out of three?"
The woman ignored him and looked at Harm and Mac. "I'm Alice Fairchild," she said in a strong tone. "And I'm not looking for a fight."
Harm and Mac glanced at each other and back at her. "That's.....that's good to know, thanks," Mac nodded.
Alice looked at them with the same cool stare. "I'm not a hunter."
"I should hope not," Harm said. "You seem a bit young for it."
"And can you even handle a gun?" Mac asked.
Alice glanced at both of them, her brow furrowing as she seemed to be thinking of something. Her eyes widened a bit as thought seemed to strike her. She glanced over both lawyers, as if trying to confirm her suspicions, licking her lips as she leaned in.
"Listen," she said in a soft tone. "Did something happen to you two tonight? Something really, really bad that you shouldn't have lived through but you did and without a mark to show for it?"
Perry stared at the look on Alice's face as Harm and Mac glanced at each other, a look of vindication mixed with a groan. "Terrific," she muttered. She sighed and looked back at them. "Okay, look. I know we've just met but I know someone who can explain what happened to you two. And believe me, it is really, really important that you hear this, we are talking literally life and death. So, drink the coffee, pick yourselves up and get ready for one hell of a shock."
"I think we've worn out our shocks tonight," Harm shook his head.
"Oh, no," Alice broke in. "No, buddy, you're in for more. So get ready for it."
"Get ready for shocks," Perry muttered. "Well, I can tell this is going to be a delightful evening."
Residence of Charles Matthews
April 30, 1999
0013 Hours EST
"I don't like this," Mac muttered as she and Harm followed Alice up the walk to the nice two-story home before them. It had been a short walk to the house, Alice explaining she often took a late night jog before turning in. "Sometimes I have trouble getting to sleep," she'd explained. "It helps if I'm totally exhausted when I go to bed."
"I've heard that theory," Mac had answered. "It's called boot camp."
"Ease up," Harm told his partner. "Look, she seems like a good kid, she's not sending out any bad vibe----" He cut off, yelling as the same strange buzzing feeling hit both him and Mac, Mac's cry joining his as they both rubbed at their heads.
"You were saying about bad vibes?" Perry frowned as the two managed to continue walking to the front door. Alice was ahead of them ringing the doorbell and waiting for the answer.
Harm, Mac and Perry were coming up the walk as the door opened. One look at the occupant and all were tempted to turn right around and walk the other way.
The man on the other side appeared to be in his twenties, of decent height and build with dark hair cut in a military style. He was wearing a pair of slacks and a light shirt, his sharp eyes staring at the newcomers and in his hand was a sharp and well-polished sword, held ready to go into battle.
"Relax, Matt," Alice said. "They're the ones I told you about on the phone."
The man looked them over for a moment and, shaking his head, looked back at Alice. "Are you sure they're new?"
"Pretty sure," Alice said. "I don't think anyone can just fake feeling it the first time like that."
The man looked at her, then back at the group and opened the door. "Come on in," he said. "Name on the mailbox is Charles Matthews, make yourself comfortable."
Still a bit unsure as to just what the hell was going on, Harm, Mac and Perry followed Alice into the house. It was a pretty conservative place, nothing too fancy, an emphasis on wood floor and coverings. They followed Matthews down the hallway, past the kitchen and into the large den.
"Whoa," Perry let out, staring along with the two lawyers at the room before them. It was covered with various pieces of American history, spread out among the walls and shelves. 19th century pistols; a pair of Civil War swords, one for each side; a wall containing guns going from 18th century muskets to a WWII infantry rifle; uniforms from various regiments and eras; and photos abounded of several historical moments from America's past.
"So, you got names?" Matthews asked as he moved to the large oak desk near the back of the room.
"Um, Commander Harmon Rabb, this is Major Sarah MacKenzie," Harm stated.
"We're with the Judge Advocate General," Mac put in.
"Perry Leiter, medical examiner," Perry threw in. In a flash, Matthews was near him, pulling over his wrist to look at it. "What is this, some sort of crazy fraternity?"
"You know, he has a point," Mac announced. "We've been through a lot tonight and I'm not in the mood for any of this secrecy stuff. So tell us what you want to tell us and now."
Matthews moved back to his desk, looking away from them. "What I have to say is for you two only."
"Oh, no, I want in on this," Perry said angrily.
"It really only concerns them," Matthews said, looking at him in a way that was meant to clarify how the subject was closed.
Perry was not to be stopped though. "Look, buddy, I have just seen two people come back from the dead with not a sign of their original wounds on them. I'm not leaving until I get some answers on how that happened so start spilling.
Matthews sighed, obviously not happy about this at all. He paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then turned to face the trio, speaking out in a hard tone meant to emphasize every word in a way that let everyone know he was telling the truth. "My real name is Matthew Connors. I was born in Massachusetts in 1750. I died for the first time at the Battle of Bunker Hill in 1775. I'm Immortal. So's Alice. And so, now, are both of you."
Hastings Bay, MA
May 30, 1999
0031 Hours EST
In the year and a half since the night she had first died, Alice Fairchild had been forced to think of a lot of things. How she was going to live forever, how she was going to have to fight to do it and how she was going to maintain her sanity through it all. But never before had Alice ever given thought to just how hard it must have been for Matthew to explain Immortality to her.
Silence was filling the den, a relief after the ten full minutes of yelling from Harm, Mac and Perry as Matthew had tried to tell them what had happened. Alice realized for the first time how bad it must have been for Matthew, seeing as how she'd done the exact same thing and Matthew had been forced to take the same measures to convince her that he had to convince Harm and Mac.
The two sat next to each other on a couch. It was unsure if they had heard a word of Matthew's explanation of Immortality as both were staring down at their arms, trying to understand just what had happened to the massive wounds Matthew had inflicted just moments before. It had been at the height of the argument, the two lawyers refusing to accept Matthew's word. Before they knew it, Matthew had pulled out his sword and cut open Harm's arm, then Mac's, then made them watch the wounds heal, which was enough to shut them up for a bit.
Matthew finally wrapped up his explanation of Immortality and the Game and waited for the two to respond. They didn't, but Perry did.
"I cannot believe this," he muttered, pacing in the den. "I mean, I saw it but I cannot believe it."
"Been there, buddy," Alice nodded. "Been there all the way."
Perry paused and faced Matt. "Let me get this totally straight," he said. "You're telling us that as of now, these two are totally healed, they can die but will come right back to life, they can heal any wound, they can never get sick and they can only die if they're beheaded?"
"Right," Matthew nodded.
"And as Immortals," Perry went on. "They have a duty to duel with other Immortals in something someone with a sick sense of humor named the Game, dueling it out until one is beheaded, at which point, the winner absorbs his or her opponent's life force in what's called the Quickening?"
"Right again," Matthew said.
"So, basically, you four are not going to age physically for the next several centuries and will have to take people's heads to survive while moving around so no one notices you're not aging?"
"Right once more," Matthew replied.
Perry looked at him for a full ten seconds before replying. "Okay, I believe it."
It was hard to tell which pair was more taken aback by that statement, Harm and Mac or Matthew and Alice. "You believe that?!" Mac yelled.
"Oh, come on," Perry said, looking at her. "You just can't make up a story that ridiculous. And it definitely explains what happened to you two tonight."
"My God," Harm whispered. "Do you know what this means?"
"Well, for starters, you won't have to freak out too much if you're caught in a snowstorm or something," Alice put in.
"Actually, from my experiences in Valley Forge and Germany, I've found freezing to death is one of the better ways to go," Matthew said matter-of-factly. "You don't really feel any pain, just a numbness that covers your and it really does feel like going to sleep."
He became aware of three of the four other people in the rooms staring at him in quiet. Mac turned to Alice. "Does he------"
"Talk like that about death?" Alice interrupted. "All the time, girlfriend. Welcome to the pain."
"I need a drink," Mac muttered. "Hell, after what I just heard, I need three or four."
"Lucky you," Alice remarked, missing the look Harm shot at Mac.
"You're underage, kid," Perry remarked. He frowned. "Um, you are underage, aren't you?"
"Yeah, I am," Alice said, turning to Harm and Mac. "And this is what pisses me off the most about being Immortal the way I am. I'm going to be carded for eternity."
"I don't believe this," Mac said. "I can't believe this. How did this happen? What were my parents-------"
"That's something I didn't bring up yet," Matthew sighed. "I hate to break it to you like this but your families aren't your families."
He became aware of Harm and Mac both staring at him in shock. "Immortals are foundlings," Matthew continued. "We're not sure where we came from but the people you thought of as your parents either found you or adopted you but they didn't give birth to you."
Mac stammered a bit before recovering her voice. "I don't......Our families aren't our families? This is unreal, how can I explain this to them, how can I explain it to any children I might have, how can I-----"
"We can't have children," Matthew broke in, to another shocked stare. "All Immortals, male and female, are incapable of having any offspring."
There was a silence before Harm replied. "You're just letting these facts sort of dribble on out, aren't you?"
"Man," Perry muttered. "All this and you didn't even have to get buried in a cursed graveyard to come back!"
Everyone stared at him in confusion.
"'Graveyard Shift,' Stephen King, 1983," Perry shrugged. "Well, it looks like whoever tried to kill you two was wasting his time."
"Kill you?" Matthew frowned. In all the discussion of Immortality, he had neglected to ask just how Harm and Mac had first died. "Who?"
"We're not sure," Mac sighed. "We're investigating an incident at the base------"
"Oh, the explosion?" Matthew asked. "Hawkins is a friend of mine," he explained to their stares.
"Well, we were given some info on the ensign who was killed," Harm said. "But when we were driving back to our hotel, we got hit by a car, then shot."
"Which explains why you're here," Matt remarked to Perry. "So, no ideas on who did it?"
"Not a clue," Harm said. "It's connected to the explosion obviously, but we have no idea who could be behind it."
"All we do know is that they're not afraid to take out some people to cover their tracks," Mac put in. "They killed our informant tonight too and this was only an hour after he first told us about it."
"They've got good response time," Matt remarked.
"Yeah, maybe we should recruit them to be our wingmen next time we fly," Harm said sourly.
"Whoa, you guys are pilots?" Alice smiled. "Cool!"
"I'm not," Mac shook her head. "But he is teaching me."
"Wait a minute, I thought you two were lawyers?" Perry frowned.
"We're both," Harm replied.
"That's the military for you," Perry shook his head. "Always doing more than one duty."
"Damn right," Harm, Mac and Matthew all said.
Alice groaned and put her head in her hands. "Three of them! I didn't know when I was well off!"
"A woman Marine?" Matthew said, raising an eyebrow. "Never met one of those before. Never thought I would, to tell the truth."
"Oh, shit," Harm muttered. Even Immortal, he wouldn't go near any comments about women in the military with Mac, a point proven by the sour look coming onto her face.
"You have a problem with women in the military, Connors?" she said coldly, rising up a bit to face him.
"Oh, God, here we go," Alice groaned.
"Listen, MacKenzie, I've seen war and I've seen death in ways you can't imagine," Matthew said. "I've seen bodies torn apart, men walking with their arms lying on the ground, wounds like you wouldn't believe, blood covering every inch of the bodies. And I have never wanted to see a woman in a position like that. Women were not made for true war."
Seeing the look on Mac's face, Alice quickly stepped in. "It's not his fault, really. It's his upbringing. He was born and raised in the 18th century, this was normal thinking at the time."
Matt sighed. "It's just that women aren't as capable as men in some areas......"
"Need I remind you," Mac interrupted. "That it was a woman who made the flag you've been fighting for the last few centuries?"
<God, I love this woman,> Harm thought fleetingly.
"Point to the jarhead," Alice remarked. As everyone stared at her, she shrugged. "Hey, I have G.I. Joe for a teacher. What do you expect?"
"Okay, listen," Matt said. "I know you may not like this but the fact is, whoever did this to you thinks you're dead. That gives you a major advantage. If we can keep you under wraps for a bit, it may put them off guard and give you a chance to find out what's going on."
"So, what are we supposed to do?" Harm asked.
Matthew took a breath. "You two stay here tonight. I've got extra room. Leiter, you try to cover this up at the morgue."
"Cover it up?" Perry said, raising an eyebrow. "Cover up two missing bodies?"
"Hey, they're unidentified," Matthew shrugged. "I've seen bodies go missing before."
"Yes, well, keep in mind that there aren't a few hundred other corpses to work on," Perry pointed out dryly.
"Use your imagination," Matthew shrugged. He turned to Harm and Mac, ignoring Perry's protest. "Alice can help you get settled, I'll go with Perry and help." He looked at them both and sighed. "Look, I know this is rough. But it will get better, trust me. That's the first lesson, you two have to trust me."
Alice saw the uncertain looks on the faces of the two JAG lawyers and broke in. "You can trust him. I know it's hard but he can help you, like he's helped me."
Harm looked at Mac, who brushed at her hair and nodded slowly. "Okay," Harm said, looking back up at Matt. "We'll stay for now."
"Good," Matthew said. "It may be hard, but try and get some sleep. Tomorrow.... training starts."
"That doesn't sound bad," Mac shrugged. "I've been to boot camp."
Matthew smiled. "Major, I invented boot camp."
Harm and Mac chuckled for a bit before looking back up at the set look on Matthew's face. Mac looked over at Alice. "Is this going to be bad?"
"Let me put it this way," Alice said. "It's going to take a while before it hits you that a healing factor is there no matter how much you hurt."
"At least I don't have to worry about you two using Ranger gimmicks on me," Matthew smiled.
"I swear to God, one more Pink Ranger comment and I'm taking my own head off!" Alice groaned. Laughing, Matthew walked towards the door, motioning for Perry to follow. Perry sighed and stood up, looking to Harm and Mac.
"I'll be back tomorrow," he said gently. "I've gotta see this through, make sure you two are okay."
"Thanks," Harm said with meaning. "That means a lot."
Nodding, Perry began walking after Matthew when Alice spoke up. "You know," the teen said. "I'm surprised you aren't bugging Matt more."
"About what?" Perry frowned.
Alice's eyes glinted a bit as a slight smile came on her face. "Well, you're a medical examiner. I thought you'd be interested in talking for hours on end with someone who knows exactly what it's like to die in various ways and be able to tell about each and every one."
Perry looked at her for a minute before his face brightened and he turned and rushed after Matthew. Alice watched him go and then turned to Harm and Mac, both of whom were grinning. "Let's see, do I feel guilty over that after what he was saying?" Alice remarked, bending her head in thought. "Nope, no, no guilt whatsoever."
"I like this kid already," Mac grinned for the first time since her resurrection.
"How can you stand that guy?" Harm asked, shaking his head as he rose to join Mac.
"Well, he is teaching me to survive and keep my head," Alice pointed out. "That's a big point in his favor."
"I'm serious," Harm said.
"Matt may have his rough spots," Alice admitted. "But he's a good guy, really. He can teach you a lot."
"Such as?" Mac asked.
"Well......" Alice thought. "About fifteen different levels of pain."
"Thank you so much for the reassurance," Mac muttered darkly.
"Hey, you're military lawyers," Alice shrugged. "I figured looking on the bad side of things is normal for you."
"Somehow, I've never looked at anything as bad as this," Harm declared as he and Mac followed Alice upstairs.
"Sorry it's not too classy," Alice said as she led Harm into a small guest room on the top floor, throwing some pillows and sheets onto the bed. It was somewhat cramped, the shelves nearby filled with what appeared to be books and various boxes of antiques Matt had collected over the years. "We don't get a lot of company. Thankfully, that includes the Immortal variety too."
"So, you haven't....." Harm found himself unable to compete the sentence.
"Taken a head?" Alice shook her head. "Nope, gotten lucky so far. Matt's only had three or four duels since I've met him and he's handled them well."
Mac looked her up and down carefully. "You're really as old as you look, aren't you?" she asked.
Alice looked back at her in mild surprise. "What, you thought I was older?"
"Well, I wasn't sure," Mac shrugged. "I mean, Matthew looks like he's in his twenties still so for all I knew you could be a century old. Just how did you...um....how...." Like Harm before, she couldn't quite voice the thought.
"Die?" Alice paused, a look of sad remembrance coming onto her face as she took a breath. "Have either of you heard of Thorn?"
"Yeah," Harm nodded. "That serial killer who was beheaded trying to escape, about a year or so ago. Killed eleven girls."
Alice took a deep breath. "Actually.....he got twelve."
"How do you------" Mac broke off as her eyes went wide. "Oh," she whispered.
Alice turned away, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of the memory. "Strangulation is not a nice thing, MacKenzie, let me tell you. A garrote wire makes it worse, you really feel it cutting into your throat as you choke to death. Not a nice first death." She coughed a bit and went on. "Well, a friend of Matt's found my body, saw me come back, figured out what it was and took me to see him."
"Wow," Harm muttered. He paused as a thought struck him. "Wait a minute... Thorn was beheaded." He looked up at Alice. "Was he....immortal?"
"Say it with a capital 'I', makes it more dramatic," Alice replied. "And yeah, he was. In fact, he was Matt's original teacher and Matt had to kill him."
"Ouch," Mac said.
"Yeah, took him a while to get over that," Alice sighed. "He's still a bit bitter he never saw it. Guess it explains why he's trying to train me so well. And he'll probably do the same to you."
She finished placing the pillows and blanket on the bed and straightened up. "Okay, you're set for the night," she intoned. "Hope you like the view."
"Actually didn't look that bad," Harm shrugged. "I liked that nice clump of trees on the left as we were coming up the walk. Especially the little arch effect some of the branches had."
Mac stared at him. "You saw that?"
"Yeah," Harm frowned, not understanding why Mac was staring at him like that.
"You saw the trees?" Mac said carefully.
"Yeah, blowing in the wind," Harm nodded. He was taken aback when Mac gripped his arm hard, staring at him.
"You saw the trees?"
"Asked and answered, counselor," Harm smiled.
Mac shook her head. "Harm, you saw the trees *in the dark*!"
Harm frowned for a moment before his eyes went wide as it hit him that his night blindness was suddenly gone. "Wow," he said softly. "You know, I'm starting to warm up to this Immortality thing. You know what this means?"
"What, your being able to see in the dark?" Mac asked. "I can think of a few things...."
"I can get myself a television!" Harm grinned.
Mac rolled his eyes upward. "God, kill me now."
"Too late for that, honey," Alice smiled gently.
Alice's room used to be used by Matthew as a study until she moved in, the desk replaced by a pair of beds, a dresser, some shelves of books and a mirrored closet door. "Who's the other bed for?" Mac asked.
"Every now and then, Matt's friend needs a place to crash if she's too far from her place," Alice replied. "She has.....problems if she's not indoors on time."
"Okay," Mac frowned even though she didn't really understand. "So, no pink in your wardrobe?"
"Okay, bring that up again and I'll kill you," Alice remarked. Mac let out a short laugh before getting a look at Alice's face, which was glaring at her. "MacKenzie," she said tightly. "Quick rule about conversing with another Immortal. When I say I'll kill you, keep in mind that I really can kill you. Several times in fact. And just because it's not permanent doesn't mean it hurts any less."
Mac swallowed and shook her head. "You've been hanging around Connors too long."
"Tell me about it," Alice groaned, pushing a few clothes off the empty bed, pulling the covers down a bit for her. "Not the best again, but it's all we've got," Alice shrugged as she pulled off her coat, hanging it up, opening up the closet door and stepping inside to pick up a few things. "Bathroom's down the hall," she called out. "I gotta take a shower before I hit the hay, you wanna take one?"
"Um, no, no, not now," Mac said softly as she sat down, looking at the floor. Alice stepped away from the closet, pulling on a robe, pausing as she saw Mac's expression. She sighed and padded forward, sitting on the bed across from her. "Listen," she said, getting Mac's attention. "I know what you're going through. All of it. How long you're going to live, how you're going to have to kill to do it, the whole thing. I know it's rough and all but it's going to be okay, trust me."
Mac took a deep breath. "Thanks," she said softly. "That's good to hear. At least I won't have to do it alone."
"Yeah, there's that," Alice smiled. She looked at Mac, the smile getting a little mischievous. "Sooo....What's he like?"
"Who?" Mac frowned.
Alice rolled her eyes. "Hello? Harm! Come on, how is he?"
Mac laughed. "No, no, we're just friends, partners, that's it."
"Oh, please," Alice said. "I go to high school, I know that look you've been giving him and him for you, I'm not that closed off to people! You're in love with him, he's nuts about you, what's the problem?"
"Okay, first off, I highly doubt he's that nuts about me," Mac said even as Harm's last words to her before dying flowed through her mind. "And what makes you think I love him? I don't see-----"
"Oh, please, Sarah," Alice said. "Be honest here! Why are you in denial about loving him?"
"I'm not in denial!" Mac protested. "I'm not! What makes you think I'm in denial?"
"Well, you're denying things, that's a subtle clue," Alice dryly remarked.
Mac sniffed. "You shouldn't be picking up legalese from me that quickly."
"I learn quick," Alice smiled. "Have to in my trade."
"Why?" Mac frowned.
"I'm a gymnast," Alice answered. "Imagine what happens if I fall on my neck during a meet."
"Good point," Mac nodded. Her face saddened a bit as she thought about what Alice was getting at. "Look," she finally said. "If, *if* I really felt that way towards Harm, it's not that easy. We work together, in the military, there are rules and regulations and....."
"Mac, you're not always going to be in the military," Alice pointed out. "You're Immortal now and after a while, people are going to be wondering why you're not aging so you're going to have to move on. And it'll be better if you've got someone with you."
Sighing, she moved forward and put a hand on Mac's knee. "I know I'm younger and I don't have as much experience as you, fine. But it seems to me that if you've got a guy who loves you as much as you love him, then the rules shouldn't stand in the way. You're going to live forever, Mac. I think you should get it off to a good start."
Mac looked at her carefully and let out a small smile. "If you're like this now, I'm going to hate to know you in a couple hundred years."
Alice smiled and stood up, heading towards the door. "Better get some rest," she told Mac. "Matt's going to start you two sort of fast in training."
"Well, at least we don't have to wear spandex," Mac smirked.
Alice rolled her eyes upward. "If it's the last thing I ever do, I'm going to L.A., I am finding that Amy Jo Johnson woman and I am kicking her ass! You have any idea how that bitch has screwed up my life?"
"Hey, look at the bright side," Mac smiled. "You should be able to outlive the memories of the show after a while."
"It just bugs me," Alice muttered as she left. "Why can't I be mistaken for that girl who used to be on 'Felicity' even? That'd be so much better." Still muttering darkly, she left the room, leaving Mac alone to her own thoughts. The same thoughts that Harm was sharing down the hall.
Home of Matthew Connors
April 30, 1999
0938 Hours, EST
The sound of meat sizzling on a grill was evident as Alice stepped into the kitchen. Matt was at the stove, slapping some patties down on the grill, carefully making sure they were cooked right. "Burgers for breakfast?" Alice said. "You're usually a bit more dietary-conscious than this, Matt."
"Well, as you'll recall, for some reason, first death leaves you hungry," Matthew stated. "I figure they might as well get a full meal in before I start them on training."
"Try not to make it too big," Alice smiled. "You don't want them puking all over you when it starts."
"How are they handling it?" Matthew asked as he pushed on the burger more.
"Okay, I guess," Alice shrugged. "It's a lot to take in, they've really been put through the wringer."
"Well, they'd better pull out fast," Matthew said. "They've got a lot to learn fast."
"True," Alice nodded. "But they do need a little time, Matt. It's a lot to handle."
"You handled it well," Matthew pointed out.
"Well, I'm a teenager," Alice shrugged. "We pretty much think we're going to live forever anyway."
As Matthew nodded, the two were stuck by the Buzz, a loud double yell coming from the stairway. Within minutes, both Harm and Mac were coming inside the kitchen, each still in the clothes from the previous day, each rubbing at their heads. "Is it always like that?" Harm asked as he sat down.
"It'll get better, trust me," Matthew said as he picked a plate of buns out of the microwave and started to put the patties inside them. Mac looked over his shoulder, an eyebrow upraised. "Hamburgers for breakfast?" she asked doubtfully.
"You're hungry, aren't you?" Matthew shot out and took satisfaction in the look Harm and Mac gave each other. "Yeah, you do end up with an empty stomach for some reason after a big death. So, eat up."
He put the plate down, Harm backing up a bit. "Um.... you have anything more nutritious?" he asked, sniffing at the burgers.
"Sorry, it's all we've got," Matthew said. "I do have to hit the store soon anyway."
"So, nothing healthier?" Harm frowned.
"Not on hand."
"Hey, these are pretty good," Mac said, taking a bite out of one.
"Sorry," Harm sighed. "I'm not a junk food guy. I don't want the extra calories slowing me down." He was rather taken aback when Alice and Matthew looked at him, then each other, then burst out laughing. "What?"
"He.... He doesn't get it yet, does he?" Alice snorted as she took a bite.
"Get what?" Mac asked, as confused as Harm.
Chuckling, Matthew looked over at the Navy man. "Rabb, your metabolism is now charged on high, a high you couldn't imagine. It'll keep you to roughly the same build you've got now for the rest of your life."
Harm stared at him for a moment before it really sunk in. "Wait a minute," he said carefully. "Are you telling me......"
"You can chow down on the whole plate here and you probably won't gain a pound," Alice smiled.
Harm looked at her, then Matthew, then carefully reached over and picked up a burger. He looked at it carefully, even sniffing it before putting it in her mouth and biting down. Immediately, he closed his eyes, his face carrying sheer joy as he chewed on the burger. "Oh," he muttered through his food. "Oh, God. Oh, this is good, this is so good, keep 'em coming, keep 'em coming!"
"We have a convert," Mac grinned as she brought her own burger back up. She paused before putting it in her mouth and looked at Alice. "You sure I won't gain weight?"
Alice paused to think. "Well, maybe a pound or two every six months or so if you've been on an eating tear. But it burns off quick and you're back to regular size in no time."
"Oh, I am so loving this," Mac grinned as she bit down on her burger.
"And you wonder why I got used to it so fast," Alice grinned at Matthew.
Matthew put the pan in the sink and started to run water as he looked at Harm and Mac, the two eagerly chowing down, Harm discovering just how great ketchup made the burger. "I have to cook extra just to keep her from looking like Kate Moss."
"What do you mean?" Mac asked, shaking her head. "If the weight just goes away-----"
"I'm a gymnast," Alice reminded her.
"And I'm still surprised when she does the crazy stuff during training," Matthew smiled.
"Hey, you got it, flaunt it," Alice grinned.
"She incorporates gymnastics into her martial arts training?" Harm managed to get out between bites.
"If the words Pink Ranger leave your mouth, I will strangle you myself," Alice warned him.
"This is quite easily the weirdest breakfast I've ever had," Mac announced.
"Then you don't get out much," Matthew observed.
The rest of their meal was spent by Harm and Mac sharing a quick history of their lives and careers to Matt, who was impressed to find the two were much more than simple lawyers, they were devoted to their duty.
"Sounds good," Matthew nodded after a few minutes. "Nice to see some people are still willing to do what it takes to serve this country."
"You really love being an American, don't you?" Harm observed.
"How'd you guess?" Matthew asked.
"The red-white-and blue t-shirt was a subtle clue," Harm dryly remarked.
"I helped fight for its independence, Rabb," Matthew answered. "I think I deserve to feel a little proud in it."
"Sounds like blind faith to me," Mac remarked.
"I don't put that faith into the government," Matthew clarified. "But into what this country stands for, I'll give it all the faith I have."
Harm leaned towards Mac. "Why do I feel like I need to take the Pledge of Allegiance when I talk to this guy?"
"I know the feeling," Alice muttered darkly.
There was a banging near the door that startled everyone and a few moments later, Perry walked in. The coroner had switched clothes to a casual long-sleeved shirt and slacks, smiling at the group. "Really should consider locking that door, Connors," Perry remarked. "You're just asking for someone to break in and cut you up."
"Don't give me ideas," Alice remarked with a smile.
Perry looked to Harm and Mac. "You two okay?"
"So far," Mac nodded. "How're you?"
"Ah, took me a while to fix things," Perry shrugged. "Bodies do go missing now and again and since no one knew who you two were, it wasn't too bad to 'vanish' them. Hopefully, no one will poke around too much before I can borrow some cadavers from the medical college and alter them up."
Everyone stared at him.
"Hey, I read a lot of spy novels," Perry smiled. "And I'm a coroner. You'd be amazed how I can fix a body up with no one the wiser."
"I don't know whether to be relieved or worried," Mac muttered.
Perry looked over at Matthew. "By the way, coming up, saw that cool car in the other driveway. Your neighbors have good taste."
Matthew and Alice exchanged a glance, then looked at Perry. "Our neighbors are out of town," Alice stated.
"Then your neighbors' burglars have good taste," Perry said without missing a beat.
Matt and Alice looked at each other again, then stood, moving to a window and glancing at the car in the driveway next door. They looked at each other and sighed.
"Watcher?" Alice asked.
"Watcher," Matthew nodded.
"About damn time," Alice muttered. "I was starting to think you had just made those guys up."
"Maybe we should invite them in?" Matthew said, raising an eyebrow.
"Screw that," Alice shook her head.
Matthew sighed. "Kids today just don't want to get their hands dirty."
"Or get arrested for assault," Alice pointed out.
"What the hell are you two talking about?" Harm frowned.
"Be right back," Matthew stated, moving out the kitchen and out the side door. The others stared in confusion at Alice, who just sipped at her juice without a word. Before anyone could ask anything, there was a banging sound outside, then a yell, with the sounds of outrage following.
The yells got closer until Matthew reentered the kitchen, pushing forward a woman. She was tall, with short light brown hair in a professional cut, wearing a nice pair of dark slacks and a jacket over a brown vest and white shirt, a gold brooch at her neck. She was in her thirties, highly attractive, with piercing blue eyes, trying to shrug off Matthew's grip. "Will you let go already!" she yelled, struggling with little avail.
Matthew looked over at Harm and Mac. "Remember when I told you there was something else about Immortality that could wait until another time?"
"Yeah?" Harm said in confusion.
Matthew gripped the woman's arm, holding it up and pushing down the sleeve to reveal a tattoo on the underside of her wrist. "It's time. Say hello to my Watcher."
"Not just yours," the woman said, yanking herself away finally. "I've also been assigned to Alice ever since she became your student." She sighed. "Were you expecting me to be surprised? Your file says you know about us."
"Excuse me, just who is this woman?" Mac asked.
"Great, I'm breaking my oath after all," the woman muttered before facing Harm and Mac. With a sigh, she spoke up. "My name is Valerie Rosthon. I'm a Watcher."
"What do you watch?" Mac asked. "Birds, planes, talk shows?"
"Immortals."
"Okay," Mac nodded. "That would have been my.... two hundred and fourth guess."
"Wait a minute, you know who we are?" Harm said in amazement.
"That we do," Valerie nodded. "We've existed for thousands of years, even we can't really remember how we got started. We watch Immortals, where they go, who they fight, we record but we never interfere."
"You're telling us there are...mortals," It still sounded so strange for Perry to say that. "Who know about Immortals and record them."
"Exactly," Valerie nodded. "There's a Watcher for just about every Immortal alive. In my case, I have to watch two, Matthew and Alice. I've been on him for about eight years now."
"Really?" Matthew said. "I was your first case?"
"Well, no," Valerie admitted. "My first was Javier Maurdei."
Matthew frowned. "I killed him back in December of.... 1990."
"I know," Valerie sighed. "Your old Watcher was transferred right afterwards and since I didn't have an assignment myself, I got put onto you."
"Hope I haven't made it too hard," Matthew smiled.
"Well, you have been quieter the last few years," Valerie nodded. "Thankfully, I didn't have to enlist."
"Enlist?" Harm asked, brow knotted in confusion.
Valerie looked to him. "How the hell else do you expect someone to watch a person who insists on fighting in every war America takes part in? You have any idea just how many Watcher this guy's gone through?"
"That's not very reassuring to us," Harm said, indicating himself and Mac.
"Please," Matthew put in with a smile. "You two are lawyers, right? How much trouble can you be?"
"We've done our best to keep up with Matthew," Valerie went on. "There have been some gaps though."
Matthew seemed surprised by that. "Such as?"
Valerie paused to mentally review the file on the Immortal. "Well, we had a Watcher on him when he decided to take part in a little military action with George Custer. As you can imagine, it took a while before we could get someone else on him after that."
Mac looked at Matthew in disbelief. "You were at Custer's Last Stand?"
"Unfortunately," Matthew said sourly. "You now what I hated the most about fighting Indians? The arrows. The damn heads would always stick in a little even after I yanked most of the shaft out. And you know something? Their aim was a lot worse than the movies let on, resulting in some very uncomfortable hits."
"Well, you were trying to take them from their rightful land and killing thousands of them in the process," Perry said lightly. "So, my sympathies for you are a bit marginal."
"Hey!"
"And just so you know," Valerie put in. "You have no right to be bragging about being the only survivor of Little Big Horn."
"Now wait....." Matthew started but was cut off by Alice's exclamation. "I thought everyone died!"
Everyone looked at her, Alice rolling her eyes. "Permanently!"
"It seems there was another Immortal there," Valerie stated. "Innocent bystander, really."
Matthew peered at her carefully. "If you're talking about that nutball Irishman......"
"He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time------"
"He was trying to steal Custer's *horse!*" Matthew yelled. "I swear, I ever find that Angus guy again......"
"Shall we move on?" Perry asked.
"Let's," Alice nodded, turning towards Valerie. "You've been watching us all this time and you didn't say anything?"
"Well, that's sort of why we're a secret society, honey," Valerie said patiently. "And unlike most of my colleagues lately, I still believe in maintaining what we were founded to do."
"Playing peeping tom?" Matthew said with just a tad of edge.
Valerie looked to him. "Mr. Connors, we keep the historical records of every Immortal we've ever noticed and recorded. Multiply that by the four thousand years we've been in existence and I'm sure that even a *young* Immortal such as yourself can appreciate the legions of volumes of biographies we have to share with the world if the truth ever comes out."
"Including my own history?" Matthew said, actually sounding interested.
"In intimate detail," Valerie replied. She was taken aback by a snorting from Alice.
"When you say intimate like way, it sounds like you're watching him shower," Alice grinned. Valerie blushed, causing Alice and Perry to both snicker.
"Welcome to our world," Harm and Mac replied at once.
Trying to keep on track, Matthew focused on Valerie. "So, you people really keep track of every single living Immortal?"
"The ones we know about," Valerie shrugged. "Certainly, some will fall through the cracks. These two might have if they hadn't run into you right off."
"Okay, I've been wondering this for the last year," Alice said. "How many of us are there right now? Huh? Five hundred, six hundred, a thousand?"
Valerie let a small smile come onto her face. "At last estimate..... approximately nine thousand, five hundred."
Silence filled the room as the four Immortals stared at her, even Matthew shocked by the number she had just stated. "Nine...." Alice stammered. "Nine THOUSAND?"
"Well, that's not that many," said Perry, who had remained calm during that talk.
"WHAT?!" the Immortals yelled, staring at him.
"Well, if Ms. Rosthon was giving you a global population of Immortals, if you divide the nine thousand five hundred Immortals by the six billion people on Earth, you have one Immortal for every six hundred thousand mortal people. That'd be like..... only five in the entire city of Chicago."
"And of course, you'd know who they are?" Matthew said, looking at Valerie.
"Of course, " she nodded. "But I'm not going to tell you who they are."
"Why not?" Harm asked.
"We're Watchers," Valerie sighed. "We watch and record, we don't do anything to interfere in the Game."
"Little late for that excuse, don't you think?" Matthew said before he could think. The confused glances by Alice, Harm and Mac let him know his slip. "Shit."
"What does that mean?" Alice frowned.
Matthew and Valerie shared a look and rolled their eyes at what they had to explain.
Matthew stopped the VCR and pulled out the tape, turning to the others. Harm, Mac and Alice stared at the blank screen in disbelief, Perry in interest, Valerie rolling her eyes.
"That has got to be the biggest load of bullshit I've ever seen," Alice remarked. "And one of my friends was a fan of the 'Sweet Valley High' series." She stood up and paced about, shaking her head as she looked at Valerie. "A God possess some guy and through him says that Immortals are meant to protect humanity against demons and vampires? And that the Game was all a fraud created by some Immortal centuries back? And that all those Immortals were fighting vampires?"
"Hey, don't look at me," Valerie said, holding up her hands in defense. "I don't buy a word of this bullshit, I never did. I don't care how much the Council spent putting this together or how many are buying into it, I'm third-generation Watcher and I'm not betraying what my family's been holding onto for this shit."
"Tell me about it," Matthew said. "It's why I never told you, Alice. I mean, getting all those Immortals together on the same side is automatic proof it's crap."
Valerie sighed. "Actually, that part is accurate. I've seen some reports, St. Wolf does manage to get twenty or thirty Immortals to help him with some of these jobs of his."
Matthew stared at her in disbelief. "You can't get five Immortals within a square block of each other without swords being swung!" He shook his head. "This guy must have some powers, telepathic Valium or something."
"I don't get this!" Alice said. "They're doing all this just to get the Game to stop? How can people believe this shit?"
"Viedt," Perry remarked.
Everyone looked at him in confusion. "'Watchmen.' Alan Moore, Dave Gibbons, DC Comics maxi-series, 1985-86." Off their stares, he rolled his eyes. "Hey, it's practically literature. This hero comes to the conclusion that nuclear war is inevitable so decides to get the nations of the earth to disarm and cooperate by playing the ultimate practical joke and make them believe Earth is about to be invaded by an other-dimensional threat. So, he gets this monster created, puts the brain of a dead psychic inside it, teleports it into the heart of New York, where it explodes and kills or drives insane millions of New Yorkers, convinces the world of the threat, it's peace on Earth and the only ones who know the truth have to keep silent or risk undoing the peace New York died for."
Matthew stared at him. "You're saying you think this is good?" he asked.
"Well, call me crazy, Connors, but keeping you guys from killing each other does seem like a good idea," Perry remarked.
"But it's not what they're there for," Valerie said. "This is a total betrayal of everything we Watchers are trained for and I don't want to be part of it. It's why I'm not going with the party line and why I.... fudge reports a bit to leave out how I haven't told Matthew."
"Let me get this straight," Harm said, he and Mac having remained silent through all this. "For thousands of years, Immortals have spent time fighting each other over a bunch of sci-fi effect lightning bolts that represent life force and can only get them by chopping each other's heads off?"
"And all of a sudden," Harm added. "Some nutjob decides to try to convert all of you, excuse me, *us* Immortals into being some Army of Champions that spend their time fighting vampires and demons?"
"That's right," Valerie nodded. Harm and Mac looked at each other for a moment, then both burst out laughing. "Oh, God, this is too much!" Harm got out between howls of laughter.
Looking a little pissed, Valerie put her hands on her hips, glaring at the two. "You think we're joking?"
"No, no," Mac said, waving one hand at Valerie while wiping her eyes with the other. "I'm sure you think your friends are doing something stupid. It's just that we've been through something like this before."
"You have?" Matthew asked in confusion.
"Last year," Harm started. "We were given the assignment of delivering a pardon to an ex-SEAL who'd been falsely accused of murder. When we got there, all kinds of Hell broke loose."
"Like what?" Alice asked.
"We arrived at Iverson's, that was the guy, hanger," Mac explained. "We found him and his girlfriend sparring with swords. Not practice weapons, but actual swords."
Matthew looked intrigued. "Were they Immortal?"
"How would I know?" Harm shrugged. "One was Frank Iverson, the former SEAL. He owns a freight business now. His partner was Cassandra Hastings."
"The fantasy author?" Perry asked, amazed. "I like her stuff. You know her?"
"We only met a few minutes," Mac stated. "So, I wouldn't say we *knew* her."
Valerie smiled. "You realize that Cassandra is over two thousand years old?"
A collective "WHAT?!" came up as everyone looked at her. Nodding, Valerie went on. "She's Immortal. She's been alive for twenty-seven hundred years."
"Explains how she can write duels so well," Perry muttered. "Say, Connors-----"
"I don't know her so don't bother bugging me about getting advance reader's copies of her books for you."
"Damn."
"Oh, it gets better," Harm said. "When Iverson tried to drive a sword through Fitzpatrick, the lawyer who originally convicted him, he was stopped by a woman who appeared right out of thin air."
"Cassandra?" Valerie asked. As the others stared at her, she explained. "She pretends to be a witch, uses these conjuring tricks, so she could pull it off."
"No, this woman was dressed like some Greek Amazon," Harm explained. "She said her name was Artemis."
"Artemis?" Valerie said in utter disbelief. "The Greek Goddess of the Hunt?"
"That's what she said," Harm nodded. "Makes me wonder what Sarah and I did to start getting cases like those two loonie FBI agents that run the X-Files."
"You don't mean Mulder and Scully," Valerie said. Harm and Mac stared at her, then at the guilty looks on Matthew and Alice's faces.
"How did you----" Mac stopped as her eyes went wide. "Oh, no. No, don't tell me they're------"
"Yep," Valerie nodded.
"Them too?" Harm said in disbelief.
"Yeah, they were investigating the Thorn killing," Matthew stated. "Helped us get to the truth."
"Yeah, Mulder was real eager to be able to interview a murder victim who could talk back," Alice said sourly.
"I can understand that," Perry nodded.
Rolling her eyes, Mac looked to Valerie. "How old are *they?*"
Alice answered before Valerie could. "I think they said they've only been Immortal about three years."
"Roughly," Valerie nodded. "We're still trying to figure out exactly when their wedding was."
"They're married too?" Mac groaned. "God, that explains so much."
Matthew looked to Harm. "Something's bugging me here," he stated. "How'd this Iverson guy get away from a military tribunal? You guys are pretty persistent about that stuff."
"Well, he managed to make everyone think he was dead," Harm answered.
"Ah, pulling an Edmund Dantes," Perry said knowingly. As everyone looked at him, he explained. "'The Count of Monte Cristo,' Alexandre Dumas, 1845. Dantes is unjustly imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit, escapes prison by faking his death, sets up a new identity and tries to get revenge and justice on the man who framed him."
Valerie frowned slightly. "You've got way too much free time on your hands."
"Well, until last night, my 'clients' weren't exactly known for conversation," Perry pointed out.
"You like books that much?" Alice said.
"Hey, always loved to read," Perry said. "Got started on Shakespeare back in junior high. I liked 'Shakespeare in Love.'"
Instantly, Matthew's face darkened in a way that made Perry instinctively take a step back. Alice's face fell as she took in his anger. "Oh, no," she moaned. "Oh, no, don't tell me you said it, please don't tell me you said it....."
"What?" Perry asked, confused. "What did I--------"
"THOSE MOTHERFUCKING, COCKSUCKING, PUSSY-HEADED ASSHOLES AND THOSE MISERABLE CUNT-FACED BITCHES ON THE ACADEMY WHO DISGRACED THE NAME OF GODDAMN GOOD MEN FOR THAT FUCKING PIECE OF ARTY SHIT!"
After erupting with that, Matthew stormed out of the room while unleashing a volley of ranting screams that even experienced military people like Harm and Mac had never heard, pounding on a wall as he raved.
"What the hell------" Valerie whispered in shock.
Alice sighed and looked to Harm and Mac. "You two are military. How'd they feel when 'Shakespeare in Love' beat 'Saving Private Ryan' for Best Picture?"
"Pretty damn pissed," Harm answered. "We've got one of the finest war dramas ever and they pick this-------" His eyes went wide as he made the connection. "You mean------"
"Well, let's see," Alice said, looking at the ceiling. "Here we have a man who died three times at Omaha Beach, who saw the movie twelve times at the theater, crying every time, sees it lose the big Oscar to a movie about an English playwright."
"Oh, God," Mac sighed. "How bad was it?"
"I slept with my door locked and my sword in my hands for two weeks after the ceremony," Alice answered.
"This is why I don't own a television," Harm said.
"I thought that was because you couldn't see in the dark."
"That too," he nodded.
The screaming died down, Matthew coming back in, much calmer. "Sorry," he said. "Sore subject."
"Moving on," Harm said. "What about this tape. What do you think?"
Valerie shook her head. "I do admire the technical trickery of whoever put that thing together but come on! Vampires are real?"
She, Harm and Mac all snickered for a few minutes before turning to Alice and Matthew. They became aware of the looks the duo was giving them. "Oh, come on, Connors," Valerie laughed. "You don't believe that crap about this scroll any more than I do! Don't tell me you believe in vampires."
"Well....." Matthew began, trailing off as he looked at Alice, Harm, Mac and Valerie all stopping their laughs as they saw the looks they shared.
"Don't tell me you believe in vampires," Valerie repeated, disbelief now in her tone.
Matthew and Alice shared a look, then looked away. "I've.... met one or two in my time," Matthew stated carefully.
"Yeah, and I met one when I first died," Alice added.
Everyone was staring at them in disbelief. "Wait a minute," Mac said, holding up a hand. "Vampires are REAL?!"
"Sorry to say," Matthew nodded. "That's why I don't believe the video. For one thing, Megan doesn't have those funny ridges over her eyes, even when she loses her temper."
"That happens often?" Harm asked.
"Only when someone tries to kill her clients," Matthew answered.
"Clients?" Valerie said, not believing this.
"Hey, Megan's cool," Alice said defensively. "She owns the best business in town."
"Funeral home?" Harm asked.
"Transylvania antiques?" Mac asked.
"Blood bank?" Valerie asked.
"Goth clothing store?" Perry asked.
Alice smiled. "Teen nightclub."
"Oh, that's just too easy," Valerie remarked.
Harm stared at Alice. "Why do you let her own a club where she could bite teenagers?"
"Because she isn't evil," Matthew stated. "Believe me, she has the soul of a poet."
"How do you know?" Mac asked.
"She's Irish," Alice and Matthew answered at once.
Valerie looked at them and suddenly her jaw dropped. "Hold on," she said. "You don't mean Megan Maguire, do you?"
"That'd be her," Alice grinned.
"But.... but she can't be a vampire!" Valerie yelled. "I've seen her with you two. Okay, so it's always at night and I've never actually seen her eat and she seems to hear something across the room........" Valerie trailed off as the full weight of what she had said hit her.
"Kicking yourself you didn't see it earlier, huh?" Alice remarked.
"So, how'd you meet her?" Mac asked, curious.
"Oh, we ran into each other on a cruise ship," Matthew smiled.
"Where?" Perry asked.
Matthew smiled more. "Let me give you all a hint. It was April 14, 1912."
Except for Alice, everyone was staring at him in disbelief. "You can *not* mean...." Perry started.
Matthew put a finger to his chin in thought. "You know, I was all set to hate the Cameron movie but he really nailed it down, right down to the way it split apart and the band playing."
Mac looked at Alice. "Is he always detailing what's wrong with historical movies?"
"Don't get me started," Alice groaned. "When it's the TNT Memorial Day weekend war movie marathon, I just stay away."
"Tell me something," Harm asked. "What about other Immortals who were on that boat? Did they like it?"
"Okay, leaving the subject now!" Alice announced.
"And when a teenager wants to stay focused, that's a bad sign," Valerie smiled.
"Hey!"
Perry shook his head. "You're telling me this woman is an actual vampire? And Irish, too? What, is her coffin green?"
Matthew and Alice both sighed. "Thank God she's in Ireland right now and didn't hear that," Matthew muttered. He looked at Perry and held up a hand, raising a finger for each point. "Okay. This is all crap: Sleeping in coffins, changing into bats or mist or wolves, no reflections." He held up the other hand and made points. "This is what's true: Needs blood, but it can be cow or other animal and worse comes to worse, she doesn't need to kill a human to do it. Can fly, can hypnotize people, enhanced strength, speed, reflexes and senses. Can be driven back by garlic, silver or the cross. Can be killed by exposure to direct sunlight, decapitation and of course, the good old-fashioned wooden stake through the heart."
Everyone exchanged looks before going back to him. "She can fly?" Mac said. "You know how ridiculous that sounds?"
"She can hypnotize people?" Harm asked. "As in, she really can put the Whammy on someone?"
"Well, she doesn't like to call it that," Alice said. "But, yeah, she can do it for pretty much everyone except people who are Resistors, which includes almost all Immortals. Did to me so I could remember what my killer looked like. It was...... odd." She sighed. "Sorry. I guess it's just that there's no one else who'd know what it's like to get the Whammy put on them."
"So, she's in Ireland now?" Mac clarified, trying to get over her nervousness on the subject.
"Yeah, she wants to check out her roots now and again," Alice nodded.
"An Irish vampire," Perry muttered. "Sounds fun."
"She's probably one of a kind," Alice agreed. "I doubt there's anyone in Ireland as wild as she is."
"Okay, that's enough history," Matthew stated. "We've got a big day ahead of training and we need to start now."
"Can I watch?" Valerie said. "I've never actually seen you training."
"Sure," Matthew shrugged. "Just hope you're not adverse to violence."
"I grew up with tales from both sides of the family about people beheading one another. I think I'm ready."
"Think again." Matthew looked at Harm and Mac. "Let's go."
Valerie rolled her eyes. "Great. Like Captain America and the Pink Ranger weren't enough, now I have to watch a couple of rejects from 'A Few Good Men.'"
In the middle of rising, Harm and Mac both froze and stared at Valerie with icy looks. "Don't ever make fun of that movie," Harm bit out.
"Hey, I was------"
"Never," Mac added with ice in her voice.
Valerie sighed and rubbed her face. "I need a new job."
"Want to trade?" Perry asked.
"No."
"Worth a shot."
"Okay," Valerie said, looking at the two lawyers. "Are there any other movies I'm not allowed to make fun of?"
"'The Quiet Man,'" Matthew spoke up.
"I second the motion," Harm agreed.
"I'm with you on that," Perry nodded.
"Oh, why not?" Mac asked. "Are you Irish or something?"
"No, I just knew John," Matthew told her.
"John who------" Mac stopped, eyes going as wide as Harm and Perry as they stared at Matthew. "You knew John Wayne?" Harm whispered.
Matthew crossed his arms and appeared to think a bit. "I was a technical advisor on the Flying Tigers, the Flying Leathernecks, Sands of Iwo Jima, my personal favorite....."
"Um, he *died* in that film," Perry pointed out.
"Truly caught my last words like no one else could," Matthew nodded.
The other stared at him, Mac looking to Alice. "Is he serious?"
"Sometime, I find it hard to tell," the teen muttered back.
The gym was set in the basement of Matthew's house, weights and other exercise equipment spread about, a punching bag on one end next to a well-worn dummy with targets on what would have been its nerve spots. Harm and Mac stood in the middle of the matted floor, watching as Matthew looked for something in a closet area nearby. Perry glanced around the walls, his eyes falling on a shelf of medals, the one place Matthew could display them. "Wow," he muttered. "Purple Heart?"
"Which one?" Matthew asked.
"Third from left, top shelf."
"Oh, yeah," Matthew answered as he came out of the closet, a large and long box held in his hands. "I won that in France, 1918."
"The Great War."
"Actually, I've never been in any war that could be termed great," Matthew sighed. "In fact, I can't think of one I could call pretty good." He placed the box down, kneeling next to it to open it.
"What's in there?" Perry asked. "Gwyneth Paltrow's head?"
"I wish," Matthew snorted.
"Not Amy Jo Johnson's by any chance?" Alice asked.
Throwing her a look, Matthew opened the box, the sides swinging open to reveal a set of eight swords, from a U.S. Calvary blade to a Japanese katana. Matthew looked up at Harm and Mac and spoke solemnly. "Choose your weapons."
The two stared at him. "Are you-----" Mac started.
"Totally," Matthew cut her off. "Choose them well, you're going to be using them from now on, you'll train with them, work with them, fight with them. They'll become a part of you, an extension of your being. How you choose will shape your life from now on."
He stepped back and after a pause, Harm and Mac both knelt to look at the box. They each hefted a couple of swords, holding them for balance as they looked them over. Matthew watched with concern, Alice with sympathy, Valerie with clinical recording and Perry in fascination.
Finally, Harm chose a long Spanish blade, designed in the 14th century, the blade broad but sharp. Mac chose a saber, a slight curve to it, the handle easy in her hands. Matthew looked at them both and nodded. "Okay," he nodded. "You sure you've chosen right?"
"Guess so," Harm sighed.
Matthew looked at Mac. "You sure you don't want something else, MacKenzie?
Something better for you?"
Mac stared at him with a dark look. "You know, Connors, it occurs to me that, as a 250-year old Immoral, you have healing abilities that have probably not been tested."
"Meaning?" Matthew frowned.
Mac leaned in and hissed, "Meaning make another crack about women in the military and we'll get to time how long it takes for your balls to heal after I rip them in half."
Alice looked at her, a wide grin on her face. "Can I be you when I grow up?"
Matthew looked at the two and let a slow smile come onto his face. "Okay, you two. Time for your second basic training. And trust me, this ain't gonna be easier than the first."
Home of Matthew Connors
April 30, 1999
1434 Hours, EST
Harm and Mac had both been through training. Hard training, Mac's harder since she was a Marine but the Navy hadn't been easy on Harm either. Both had been through a lot in that training, pushed to the limits of their endurance and beyond and both had survived. After two hours with Matthew Connors, both wished they could go back to a time where they had it so easy.
Matthew had been putting them through what he termed "Swords 101," a crash course on dueling and fighting that was a lot more difficult and painful than the two lawyers had anticipated. Harm was a well-built man who often worked out but Matthew had been kicking his ass hard. Mac wasn't faring much better, her clumsy swings easily blocked by Matthew, who at one point grabbed her wrist and gave it a sharp twist. Mac screamed as she felt her bones break, the sword falling out of her limp hand, Matthew's blade at her neck.
"You need to keep both hands ready," he intoned, seeming to not notice the pain Mac was going through. "You've got two, you have to use them both and be ready to switch if the situation calls for it."
Mac was holding her hand, snarling as she felt the bones knit back together. "Dammit, that hurt!"
Matthew smiled lightly. "Well, you were going on about how women are as capable as men in almost all areas. Consider this a learning experience."
"I want to hit you," Harm groaned from the floor, his broken kneecap snapping back into place as it recovered from Matthew's sharp kick. "But I do sort of respect you a little."
"Man, I need an aspirin just watching this," Perry muttered, shaking his head as he looked at Alice. The teen was wearing a wide smile, eyes twinkling a bit as she saw the two military figures getting their asses kicked. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Hey, I like them," Alice countered. "But I'm just glad it's not me."
"Say, Alice------" Matthew called.
"Ahhh!"
Matthew smiled. "I think I could use a break. Why don't you show these two some basics? Work their stances and positions during a running duel."
Alice broke into a smile as she reached under her coat and pulled out her sword. "How in the hell did you do that?" Perry wondered.
"Yeah, how did you do that?" Mac frowned. Alice and Matt looked at each other and moved up, both going over to where Harm and Mac stood. They leaned in and whispered something Perry and Valerie couldn't hear, then backed away.
Harm and Mac stared at them in amazement, eyes wide. "No way," Mac said.
"Way," Alice beamed.
"Kinky," Mac smiled.
"Do I even want to know?" Perry remarked.
"Probably not," Valerie said, shaking her head. She watched as Alice stepped up, Harm and Mac wearing expression of hope that she wouldn't be as bad as Matthew was. "I need a break."
"Me too," Perry said. He and Valerie turned and began to walk up the stairs to the main floor. As they moved up the stairs, they heard a brief clash of steel on steel, then a snap followed by a yell. "Breaks all around," Perry muttered as the two walked off without a look back.
Valerie rubbed at her head as she and Perry stepped into the kitchen. "Connors has to have something around here to drink," she muttered, opening up the refrigerator.
"A bit early in the day, isn't it?" Perry frowned.
"I meant pop," Valerie answered. "I only have a beer now and then, I don't really care for alcohol."
"Same here," Perry said. "Ironic, considering how many people in my profession have been driven to drink by their work."
"Just how did you start on that anyway?" Valerie asked. "I mean, cutting up dead bodies is not my idea of a viable career choice."
"It's not too bad," Perry shrugged. "It's not like most of us actually choose to be medical examiners. It just sort of happens. What you think will be a simple two-month fill-in becomes your life's work. But you get used to it."
"How?" Valerie frowned.
"I try to think of how I help," Perry shrugged. "Most of the stuff I get is accidents so I can be able to let the authorities know to tell the families their loved ones didn't suffer too much. Even if they did."
"That's all?"
"I also think I help in murder investigations. Oh, the cops do the bulk of the work, no doubt about that. But without us to tell them how it happened, when and other little details, it's a lot harder for them. What I do isn't pretty, Valerie. But it's important."
"Funny," Valerie said, finding a can of pop and cracking it open. "That describes my job too."
"Is this your only job? I heard you saying something about Watchers having covers."
"Well, I guess mine won't be as effective now," Valerie sighed. "But.....I work at the high school to be close to them. I work in the library."
Perry raised an eyebrow. "The library?"
"I know, I know," Valerie said, rolling her eyes. "A librarian Watcher with a teenaged female Immortal. You don't see that anywhere else."
Perry watched her sip her pop and leaned back. "Just how did you get into this?"
"Family tradition," Valerie responded. "Grandfather was saved by an Immortal during the war, guy died right in front of him and came back. He was almost ready to be committed for talking about it when the Watchers heard and offered him a job. My mom and dad both met at the Academy, assigned to watch two Immortals who ended up marrying each other and followed their example. So, I grew up with all the stories. Wasn't until I was in my teens that it finally sunk in how they were all true, not just some crazy fantasy thing they had."
"Family of spies," Perry said dryly. "Nice."
Valerie's eyes flashed with anger. "Hey, we're not spies, we're historians. The ultimate historians, I might add. You don't get any closer to history than people who lived through a great part of it." She sniffed. "Of course, now, some assholes have decided to throw this stupid tape into things and ruin it all."
"That's the one good thing about my job," Perry nodded. "Everything's there to see in plain sight. Quite a bit of it actually."
Valerie sipped at her drink and looked at him. "You're sorta weird, you know that? I mean that in a good way."
"Hey, until last night, my cases were pretty normal," Perry stated. "I should tell you about my cousin who works with the CSI unit in Las Vegas, are those some good stories to hear."
Valerie glanced at her watch and started to walk off, soda still in her hand. "I have to go. I need to file a report to the Council about Harm and Mac."
"You're telling people already?" Perry frowned.
"It's the rules," Valerie answered. "I find out about any new Immortals, I send a report on them ASAP to HQ, SOP." Perry stared at her and she rolled her eyes. "You watch Connors for a while, you hear plenty of military lingo to go around."
"True," Perry nodded. "But you just reminded me so much of Robin Williams in 'Good Morning, Vietnam." Off Valerie's stare, he launched into a stream of words. 'Sir, seeing that the former VP is such an important VIP, shouldn't we keep the PC on the q.t. 'cuz if it's leaked to the VC, he could go MIA and they'd all put us on KP.'"
Valerie looked at him for a long moment, sipping at her soda and swallowing it. "That was undoubtedly the worst Robin Williams impression I've ever heard in my life."
"Thanks."
Valerie put down her drink and shook her head. "I need to send that report?"
"Need any help?" Perry asked. "I've got some data."
"I think I can give them a description," Valerie said.
"Are your records comprehensive on those?"
"Pretty much," she nodded. Well, just basics, I don't have details on stuff like identifying marks or-------"
"Rabb has a dagger tattoo on his right shoulder, blade pointing down, looks like an Academy thing. MacKenzie has a small dragon on her back, just above the ass, nice tail design."
Perry shrugged at Valerie's stare. "Hey, they were in my morgue, remember? I'm surprised they didn't have more, I've seen military corpses that looked like walking billboards."
"And I thought my job was weird," Valerie muttered.
"At least you don't work the graveyard shift," Perry said and was taken aback when Valerie started laughing. "What?"
Valerie shook her head with a sad smile. "I *wish* there was such a thing as shifts with this job!"
The banging of a door got their attention and they looked up to see Harm and Mac stagger up the stairs into the kitchen, both looking utterly exhausted, swords hanging limply from their hands. "Ouch," Perry remarked. "I've seen corpses that looked better than you two do now."
"We must kill him," Mac groaned. "God, we must kill him!"
Harm rubbed at his still sore back and looked over at Valerie. "Ms. Rosthon, can we ask you something?"
"Don't," Valerie smiled. "Let me guess: 'Valerie, can you, as Matthew's Watcher, delve deep into your experiences and the writings of other Watchers in Connor's Chronicles to give us any pointers as to weak spots in his fighting skills?'" She paused at their shocked looks and the smile grew. "Listen up. He leans to his left a bit too often, he puts too much weight into a right-arced swing, he has a bit of difficulty in dealing with darkened surroundings, he takes a bit too much time setting up a straight-on lunge, his defenses are a little antiqued, he uses the same four main blocking positions......." The litany continued for another twenty seconds before she stopped, the two military lawyers staring at her.
"Okay," Mac started, holding up a hand, index finger extended. "One question------"
"Why would the Watcher with tremendous pride in her Immortal allow the newbies to embarrass him in training?" Valerie smiled. "Here's the answer. One, Alice shouldn't be ribbing you two and grinning while you work your way through your first few days as Immortals. Two, it's payback for a few years ago."
"What did he do to you?" Harm frowned.
Valerie fixed him with a stare, the smile fading in remembrance. "Do you have any idea as to the whacked-out ideas of women's right they have in the Middle East?"
"Oooooh," Mac said in understanding. "You too?"
"And consider I had to track him through burning oil fields!" Valerie said as she walked out. "Knock him dead. I mean that." She left, the three staring at her.
"I'm starting to like her," Mac said. "Maybe we can get her as our Watcher too?"
"Doubt it," Harm remarked. "With our luck, Webb will turn out to be one of those guys."
"Oh, God, don't even joke!" Mac groaned.
"Well, it's my turn to cut out now," Perry said as he turned and started to walk out. "I do need sleep. Hope to see you guys later."
"Thanks for everything, Perry," Harm said, meaning it.
"Hey, I see two corpses rise, I'm in for the whole hog," Perry said. "Trust me, it's a lot more lively a day than I'm used to." He walked out, apparently not noticing the humor in his choice of words.
Mac watched him leave and shook her head, wincing a bit from the pain in the side from where Matthew had nailed it with a hard chop. "I've got dibs on the shower first," she remarked, groaning as she headed up the stairs. "God, this has been such a bad day."
Harm watched her go up, following for a bit as she walked up. "Sarah," he said softly. "I think we need to talk."
"About?" Mac said, even though she knew what he wanted.
"What we said....last night," Harm answered evenly, looking up at her. Mac turned back to look at him as he spoke. "When I saw you on that table.....it hurt, Mac. It really, really hurt. Seeing you dead, not in my life anymore, I just felt....."
"Lost?" Mac asked softly. "You're saying you'd feel lost without me?"
"I don't know about lost," Ha