THE WITNESS This is a crossover story between several of my personal fave shows. The genesis of this thing is kind of complicated. The idea started when someone suggested a Highlander/X-files crossover story on alt.tv.x-files. Some suggestions for a story line were given, and I felt obligated to add a few other shows for fun and amusement. Someone on the Forever Knight list saw my post and, since that show was one of the ones I dragged into the story, they forwarded it to the list. Several people thought it might be fun to actually write out an entire story in a sort of round-robin format over on FKFIC-L, the Forever Knight fanfiction list. Since my post was the one that prompted the idea, I offered to start off the story. It was rather amusing, especially since the rules were that one could drag in any show one wanted to, provided one could provide a good reason to do so. Although the FKFIC-L endeavor went off into a few unforseen tangents, I decided to take my original idea, expand upon it, and write it myself. Which is what I've done. Since I'm posting this to several relevant lists, and since I hardly expect everyone to know all the same shows I do, below I have a sort of cast of characters. That should explain to some extent who everyone is and why they're acting the way they are. If you need anymore clarification, feel free to mail me at martin@abacus.mc.duke.edu ************************************************************************* Note: To those of you reading this on the X-files creative list, be forewarned that Mulder and Scully don't actually appear until part 2. Just so you know.... THE WITNESS CAST: *Connor and Duncan MacLeod*: 450 and 400 year old, respectively, Immortals, from the movie and subsequent tv series (again, respectively) _Highlander_. Immortals can only die by beheading, usually at the hands of another Immortal, and this results in the release of their life force in a phenomenon knows as Quickening. Often it looks like a big electrical storm. Duncan's new SO is *Dr. Anne Lindsay*, who will show up as well. Connor MacLeod, btw, tends to use pseudonyms, moreso than does Duncan. In the original movie, Connor was known as "Russell Nash". At present, he is going by Robert Greene. *Nick Knight*: From the series _Forever Knight_, Nick (or Nicholas) is an 800 year old vampire who desperately wants to become mortal again. Out of guilt for the crimes of his past, Nick is serving society as a Toronto homicide detective. There appears to be a rather thriving vampire community in Toronto, and many local vampires hang out at a club called "The Raven", run by *Jannette*, Nick's vampiric "sister", who was responsible for seducing then-Crusader Nicholas over to vampirism in 1228. Both Jannette and Nick were "brought across" (turned into vampires) by *LaCroix*, who is also in Toronto and is often heard over the airwaves as "The Nightcrawler". Nick and LaCroix don't get along, and LaCroix has spent alot of time through the centuries thwarting Nick's attempts to become mortal again. *Don Schanke*: Nick's detective partner, who has absolutely no idea that Nick is a vampire. He just thinks Nick is really eccentric. *Dr. Natalie Lambert*: The Toronto Medical Examiner who not only knows what Nick is but is trying very hard to find a "cure". She perceives vampirism as a physical, and not necessarily a metaphysical, condition. Which means it can be cured. She says she's helping Nick because of the fascinating medical challenge he embodies. Viewers know, however, that there are _other_ motives.... *FBI Agents Fox Mulder and Dana Scully*: from _The X-files_, Mulder and Scully investigate strange phenomenon, predominantly UFO related cases, which are classified by the FBI as "X-files". Mulder has an obsession with UFOs since he believes his sister, Samantha, was abducted in 1973. She hasn't been seen since. *Dr. Samuel Beckett*: from _Quantum Leap_, Sam is trapped in his own invention, project Quantum Leap, which has him leaping about in his own lifetime, sort of inhabiting other people's bodies (or taking their place and appearing to be that person). He hangs around until he solves whatever the crisis at hand is, and is aided by *Al Calivici*, who "appears in the form of a hologram that only Dr. Beckett can see", and *Ziggy*, the AI computer Sam (who has, BTW, 6 PhDs and an MD) created. FYI, Sam started leaping in 1995, and was born in 1953. *Paul Forrester and Scott Hayden (now using the surname "Edwards")*: From the 1986 series _Starman_, based partly on the movie, Paul and Scott were on the run from FSA agent George Fox, who knew that Paul wasn't _really_ Paul Forrester, but an alien being (basically a glowing blue life form--possible a hooloovoo? [that's a super intelligent shade of the color blue for all you non-Hithhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fans]) who cloned the body of Forrester. The real PF was a photojournalist who got himself killed filming the eruption of Mount Hawthorne, a volcano in the Cascades. Paul and Scott were also searching for Jenny Hayden, Scott's mother (Paul, or rather the alien that pretends to be Paul, is Scott's father, a feat he managed by cloning the body of Scott Hayden Sr., Jenny's then recently deceased husband--that's in the movie). Since the story takes place in 1995, I'm postulating that Paul and Scott have found Jenny and moved to Canada. Okay, that should be enough to get you started..... The Witness A multiverse crossover by Michele Martin . All characters used without permission and sometimes without regards to the laws of physics. Characters are the creative properties of a lot of different people too numerous to go into here. PART ONE (scene 1--*Highlander*) Seattle (Or is it Vancouver..no, wait, I'm pretty sure it's Seattle...though it certainly _looks_ like Vancouver.) _Seacouver_ Saturday 2:00pm PST {WARNING: Gratuitous shirtless scene ahead!!} Duncan MacLeod cursed as he heard the distinctive sound of the phone ringing. *_Always_ when I'm in the shower. And if it's not the phone, it's the doorbell.* He hastily turned off the spigot and grabbed for his towel. He reached the phone on it's fourth ring, just before the answering machine. *Watch, they'll probably have hung up*. "Hello?" he said into the receiver. "Duncan? Thank God you're there. Had me worried for a moment." "Connor?! This is a surprise. Then again, maybe not. How are things?" "Oh, you know. The usual. Nothing to lose one's head over. Listen, I really need to talk to you. In person. Can you be in Toronto in two days time? This is _really_ important." "Sure. Where do you want to meet?" As Connor described when and where they should meet, Duncan pondered what could be so urgent that his slightly more experienced (emphasis on "slightly") kinsman couldn't handle by himself. He could understand Connor's reluctance to detail the situation over the phone. One could never be too careful when discussing Immortal business. Duncan hastily scribbled down the name of the hotel Connor wanted them to meet at. "Okay, I'll be there." "I'll be waiting. Don't let me down, Duncan." "Never, " Duncan replied. Connor hung up on his end just after, and Duncan wondered at the brevity of the conversation. Then again, it had only been, what, three years? since he'd seen his kinsman last, not a real long period of time, considering. Considering that both he and Connor were over 400 years old. Toronto (yes, I'm sure of it this time) 5:00pm EST As he hung up the pay phone, the man who had just been talking to Duncan MacLeod chuckled to himself. He was most definitely _not_ Connor MacLeod. But he was quite pleased as his own ability to imitate the older MacLeod's voice. That had taken alot of practice, even for someone as skilled in verbal impersonations as he had become. *That was almost too easy. I hope his skill at swordfighting is better than his skill at detecting deception. Or else it'll be just another boring beheading. And I'm ready for a challenge. Speaking of which, that other young fool should be arriving any time..* As if on cue, a voice called down the alley, "Grant? Is that you?" The first Immortal, whose name was Stayde and not Grant (or Connor MacLeod), smiled as he turned and drew his sword. "Oh, I'm _sooo_ sorry. Your friend couldn't make it tonight. Perhaps I could be of some assistance." The last word was nearly shouted as Stayde rushed his surprised opponent, who did manage to get his own sword up in time to parry Stayde's first thrust. Barely. That was the best he managed. In less than two minutes he was on the ground, sans head. Stayde smiled evilly as the mist of the Quickening rose from the body and the windows on the nearby buildings shattered.... Overhead, on the roof of one of the buildings bordering the alley where the fight had occured, a figure watched. His shape was illuminated by the lightening-like emanations of the Quickening...though no one was really looking. As the last flashes of light faded away and the wind died down, the silent figure seemed to rise into the air and disappear into the darkening winter sky of Toronto. On the street below, Stayde staggered slightly from the afteraffects of the Quickening before kneeling to retrieve his victim's sword and, just to frustrate the police, the man's wallet with his identification. Then he too disappeared into the night. (scene 2--*Forever Knight*) Toronto 6:00pm "This is the fourth one in a week. No witnesses?" Nick Knight asked, though he really didn't expect that there would be one. He doubted it would be that easy getting a break in these mysterious beheading cases. He looked down at the body that Nat was looking over. And at the shattered glass and scattered trash that littered the alley--it looked almost like a bomb had been detonated in the alley as well. Shanke, standing nearby, answered his question. "No, though a few people in the area swear to seeing some sort of lightening or pyrotechnics display coming from this area at about the time we estimate the victim bought it. Weird. No identification on the body, either. It's almost exactly like the other ones. This is really starting to give me a headache." "I know a quick cure for those," Nick said, nodding at the body. "Ha-ha. I ought to let you deal with Cohen this time. These murders are really starting to get to her as well." Nat straightened up. "Well, it looks like all the others, as far as I can tell at this point. The victim was decapitated with something extremely sharp--possibly a sword. Some other wounds on his body seem to support that conclusion. I'll know more when I look at him in the lab. But it doesn't look promising, at least as far as finding anything useful goes. Anyone want to bet me a chocolate ice cream cone no one turns up to identify this one, either?" "No bet," Schanke replied. "Okay, guess it's off to the wonderful world of report filing again. One good thing about not having alot of new information--it cuts down on the paperwork. Coming, Knight?" "Yeah, in a minute." As Schanke headed off, Nat turned to Nick. "Still worried that this might have something to do with your kind?" "Well, beheading is one way to kill a vampire. Considering that this one of the places with a high vampire population, it's a bit of a disturbing coincidence. And of course, we'd never find the bodies of _those_ victims." "That really doesn't explain _these_ victims, though. If this were directed solely at vampires, I doubt we'd have much of a case." Nick shrugged, "At present, it doesn't look like we have much of a case anyway--four victims, zero leads." Nat patted him sympathetically on the arm. "Hey, don't give up hope. Who knows, I may get lucky tonight with our friend here, " she said, grinning. "Hey Knight! You coming or what?!" Schanke called from his car. "Yeah, Schanke. I'm ready." He shrugged at Natalie, then joined Schanke. Soon they were heading back to the station. (scene 2b) Toronto Metro Police Station 6:30pm "So what do you have on these murders so far?" Captain Cohen asked peremptorily as she cornered Nick and Schanke entering the station. The two detectives looked at each other, hoping the other would answer. Schanke won. Nick said, "Well, Captain, forensics took some fingerprints off the body and we're going to run them through the computer to see if we can come up with anything. And we got more reports of strange lightening or fireworks or whatever sighted in the area..." "But no clues?" Nick paused, then shook his head. "Dr. Lambert is going over the body right now..." Cohen sighed, "And she'll probably turn up nothing we can use. I don't like this...and now I've got the newspapers calling me asking for information. Look, I don't mean to come down on you two, but we've got to find something. Dig around--see if _anyone_, _anywhere_ has noticed something we can _use_." As the Captain turned back into her office, the desk sargeant called out, "Hey, Knight!" "Yeah, Miller. What's up?" "You got a message from someone named Jannette. Says she needs to talk with you--she has some information you might be able to use." Nick was rather surprised--Janette _volunteering_ to give him information before he even asked? He hoped it wasn't just a ruse to get him to come visit her. He'd been so busy of late... "Another visit to your favorite..source?" Schanke asked. "Well, you heard the Captain--_anyone_, _anywhere_, with information we can use." "Fine. I'm coming with you. And no arguments." "Alright--but you stay in the car. No arguments." "Trust me--I have no desire to ever step foot in that place again. But if you get any leads I don't want you running off mysteriously by yourself...again. That's why I'm tagging along." Nick nodded, and the two headed back out the way they'd just come in. As they left the building, Schanke could be heard asking, "Can we stop for something to eat first? I'm starving...and I know this _great_ Italian restaurant....." (scene 2c) The Raven 7:30pm As promised, Schanke stayed in the car. He still had to finish the last of his dinner anyway. Nick was glad to get out of the car because the smell of garlic (though Schanke had courteously refrained from getting something extra garlic) was starting to really get to him, even with Nat's garlic pill treatment. Besides which, Schanke kept trying to get him to eat something. Making his way down the steps into the bowels of the club, Nick spotted Jannette in a corner nursing a glass of "wine" and watching her patrons. He came up beside her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "You wanted to talk?" "Nicholah! So good to see you! You haven't been by lately..." "I've been busy." "Yes, I know. You're too busy playing policeman. Well, fortunately for you, I've come across something that might help you out. Someone, to be exact. Though you may have to work pretty hard to get anything out of him. And before you ask, yes, one of my motives is to get you to come down and see me. But I also am a bit...nervous...about all this talk of beheadings. One never can be too careful." "So, who is this source?" "Right down to business, as always, hmm?" "Schanke's waiting for me in the car." "I see. Well, see that vampire over there? He's new to town. His name is Gregory, and he arrived at about the same time as those mysterious decapitations started. No one seems to know much about him, and he keeps pretty much to himself. I have noticed, however, that he has a mysterious tatoo on the inside of his left wrist." "A tatoo?" "Yes...I've seen it several times on different evenings. One wonders what would be so important that he would take the time to apply the same tatoo in the same place every night. Anyway, there's also a rumor going around that he knows about these beheadings. He's never in the club when one occurs." "That's still a little thin...could be just coincidence. But thanks for the information. I think I'll have a talk with this newcomer." As Nick headed for Gregory, Janette grabbed his arm. "Be careful, Nicholah. Gregory is not very...sociable." Nick nodded, then smiled. "Thanks for the information. And the concern." As he headed down the barn, Janette sighed and returned to nursing her drink. Gregory sat savoring the memory of that night's installment in the Game. A little short on good swordwork--the victim had been too surprised to defend himself well--and the Quickening was hardly the most spectacular he'd ever seen, but an adequate night's entertainment all the same. Gregory had been a Watcher now for almost 300 years, and he never tired of the Game. The best spectator sport going, though he doubted the Immortals would see it that way. If they knew--and few, if any of them were even aware of the existence of the Watchers. Much less an immortal Watcher--though Gregory's immortality stemmed from a different source. What was even more satisfactory to Gregory's mind was the fact that very few of his kind knew about Watchers, Immortals, or the Game. He was quite smug about his knowledge of something of which vampires centuries his senior were totally unaware . It gave him a feeling of superiority. Now he looked forward to the next round of the Game. One of the reasons he'd followed Stayde to this area was that Stayde actively sought out opponents and even lured them to their deaths. Thus, rounds in the Game came relatively regularly. And Gregory wondered how Stayde would fare against the MacLeods...not just Duncan MacLeod, whom Stayde had lured to Toronto, but Connor MacLeod as well. For, unbeknownst to Stayde, Connor had been trailing him and Gregory had learned that Connor had recently arrived in Toronto. Things promised to get interesting very soon. Gregory's thoughts were interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. Amongst the multitude of other vampires who frequented the Raven, Gregory had failed to sense the presence of one approaching him. He turned and noted that this one was one whom he hadn't seen here before. One who, not surprisingly, was somewhat older than Gregory himself. "What do you want?" Gregory asked, angry at being disturbed. "Just have a few questions. I hear that you're new in town?" "What of it. We come and go rather frequently, as I'm sure you're aware." "Yeah, well, at about the same time you arrived, the first in a series of unexplained beheadings occured. Rumor has it that you might know something about it?" Gregory laughed, "If _I_ were to go about killing mortals, that's certainly not the way I'd do it. And why should you care if there are a few less of them around anyway?" "Look, I'm not accusing you of anything. I just want some information--like whether or not you might know who's doing it?" "And if I did?" "You know as well as I that mortals aren't the only ones who have to worry about being beheaded. Like I said, I just want some information." "Sorry, I can't help you." "Can't...or won't? That's an interesting tatoo you have, there. Must be pretty important..." Gregory hissed. Enough was enough. "It's none of your business. I know who you are--you're Nicholas, the mortal wanna-be. The cop. Go away, copper...I have nothing to say to you." Gregory spat at Nick's feet. *Weak, pathetic fool. Even if I was inclined to tell someone about the Immortals, it would not be you.* Nicholas's eyes narrowed dangerously. He appeared to be trying to keep himself from doing anything rash in so public a place. Instead he just glared at Gregory, and his voice dropped to a vampiric hiss. "This conversation isn't over. If you're hiding something...let's just say that I might not be the only one interested in what's going on." He left it at that and turned away. As he strode out the door, Gregory smurked to himself. He doubted there was anything that Nicholas could do to get the information out of him...certainly not here, and probably not even if they were alone. The thought of knowing something a vampire 500 years his senior did not gave Gregory great satisfaction. He chuckled to himself as he returned to contemplating the Game. Nick shook his head in frustration as he left the Raven. He was certain Gregory was hiding something, but he was at a loss for figuring out how to get the information out of the recalcitrant and arrogant vampire. As he got in the car, Schanke asked, "Anything useful?" "I'm not sure. Janette pointed out someone who might know something, but he's not talking. And since there's no _evidence_ that he knows anything, we can't bring him in." *Not that we could even if I could _prove_ he knew something.* "Well, guess that puts us right back where we started. With zip. Are you sure you don't want some of this?" Schanke asked, pointing to the very last of his dinner. "Quite sure," Nick replied as they drove off. FBI Headquarters Washington, DC 1:00pm, Sunday "Mulder, it's Sunday," Dana Scully began as she entered the X-files office. "This better be pretty important." In response, Mulder turn on the slide projector. *Oh goodie, another slide show. We need a popcorn popper in here to go with this--maybe I'll ask for one for my birthday. Then again, considering what he usually shows me pictures of, eating might not be the best accompanying activity*. Dana settled into her chair as Mulder began outlining this newest case. "These are pictures of the victims of a series of murders in Toronto that currently have the police up there baffled. Any guesses on the cause of death?" Mulder began as he flipped through a series of four pictures. The answer was rather obvious. "Well, I don't want to jump to any conclusions, but I'd say they all died of acute decapitation." "Very astute, Dr. Scully." "So what's the catch?" "Catch?" Scully sighed. He was in one of _those_ moods. "I admit it's a pretty bizarre and somewhat gauche way to go around killing people, but other than that it seems like a standard serial homicide case. Unless there's some other extenuating circumstances that have attracted your attention, I can't see why you're interested. Especially since, regardless of the fact that the Blue Jays are in the _American_ League, Toronto is out of our jurisdiction." "As a matter of fact, there are some interesting oddities about this case. Firstly, no one has been able to identify the victims. No ID on the bodies, the fingerprints don't match any records anywhere, and no one has come forth to identify the bodies. Secondly, although there are no witnesses to the actual crimes, people in the vicinity of where all four of the bodies were found have reported seeing unexplained flashes of light--lightening or pyrotechnics of some sort. And the crime scene is usually looks like a tornado swept through it--anything that could remotely be considered breakable in the vicinity has been shattered. Thirdly, Dr. Natalie Lambert, the medical examiner, recorded finding scorch marks on the body--usually at the neck and extremities. In three of the cases she reports that the body showed signs of having been in some sort of struggle, possibly a sword fight of some kind as evidenced by multiple wounds of the kind that could be inflicted by a sword. Not to mention the fatal blow itself." "Sword fights in modern day Toronto? Coupled with freak and destructive lightening storms? Well, that certainly sounds strange enough, but doesn't answer the jurisdictional problem," Scully pointed out. She was intrigued, however. Mulder never chose dull cases. "I'm coming to that. The reports about the lightening or whatever reminded me of something I'd seen in one of the X-files." *Here it comes* Scully thought. "These beheadings in Toronto aren't isolated incidents. In the past 10 years a number of such cases have been reported all over North America, though very few have over such a short period in the same area. In fact, there's been a string of these in Seacouver..." "Wait, where's Seacouver?" "What?" "You said 'Seacouver'. I've never heard of Seacouver, where is it?" Mulder looked briefly confused. "Seacouver? Sorry, I meant Seattle. There's been a string of similar incidents in Seattle over the last three years. No suspects, no witnesses, and no identification of most of the victims. No reports of the mysterious lightening, but the description of the crime scene and of the bodies is almost exactly the same as in Toronto. There are also individual reports from several different states of unsolved murders with similar MOs. Going back a little further to 1985, there was a string of four beheadings in New York. This time there were witnesses and suspects. However, both of the suspects ended up dead-- one of whom, a Victor Kruger, ended up beheaded. The other suspect, Russell Nash, was killed in a car accident the same night Kruger died--too far away for Nash to have been Kruger's killer." As Mulder described the other incidents, he showed slides of some of the past victims. He also flashed photos of Kruger (post-decapitation) and Nash (police mug shot). "Any suspects in the other crimes?" "Well, that brings me to another oddity. Yes, there have been suspects in some of the incidents, but on more than one occassion the suspect in one case turns up as the victim in another case...sometimes years and miles apart. In the New York and Seattle cases, police have found swords with the victim's bodies...though they don't think the ones they found are the murder weapons--the traces of metal found in the body usually don't match the weapon found at the scene. Though in two cases the traces in the body match the weapon found at the scene of a later crime." "So what do you think is going on?" "I really have no idea. Maybe a chapter of SCA gone out of control? It certainly looks like there's more than one person involved." "Could some of these be copycat crimes?" "Possibly...but the only really publicized cases are the New York string and the current Toronto string." "Speaking of which, how do you plan to get in on the investigation?" "Fortunately for us, the Toronto Metro Homicide Department has already asked for our help. They're stuck." "Well, I don't know if we'll have anything more to tell them. I take it we're flying up to Toronto tomorrow?" "Our flight leaves at 2pm. I didn't want to get there too early since the detectives we need to talk to work the night shift. Besides which, it'll give you time to go over the cases. See what else you can come up with." "Well, I appreciate your confidence in my abilities, but don't get your hopes up," Scully replied as she took the folder Mulder handed to her. "Anything else?" "Guess that's it. See you tomorrow." (scene 3b...and *Starman*) Washington, DC 7:00pm Having spent most of the afternoon digging around FBI archives for any other reports of unsolved beheadings, Mulder returned to his apartment for a late dinner. He'd run across four or five other cases in the files, each bearing at least two or three of the unusual earmarks he'd mentioned to Scully earlier that day. As he entered his apartment he nearly tripped over a fat envelope lying on the floor. An envelope that hadn't been there that morning. He turned on the light and cautiously picked up the envelope. He opened it, revealing a thick file with the words "Case File 617W. Top Secret, Priority Clearance Alpha" scrawled in black marker on the front. *Priority clearance alpha? Puh-lease--who comes up with this stuff? Looks important, though* Mulder thought as he opened the envelope. The first few pages were part of a report dated September, 1994. It included several photos of what looked like a human skeleton and an x-ray photo of dental records, matched to another set dated almost a decade ago. The name on older records was "Forrester, Paul Edward". A quick skim of the report revealed that a tremor on top of Mount Hawthorne, a volcano in the Cascades, had shifted tons of ashes and lava deposited in a 1986 eruption of the volcano. The wreckage of a helicopter had been partially exposed, and further excavation of the site had uncovered the remains. The next item in the folder was a newspaper clipping from the time of the eruption--the headline read: "Photojournalist Paul Forrester Miraculously Survives Helicopter Crash". *But if these records are correct, he _didn't_ survive....* Mulder flipped through other pages in the file to try to make sense of it. There were several reports from 1986-1990, all signed by a George Fox. Several pictures were attached, many of Paul Forrester and a teenaged boy named Scott Hayden. Then the reports jumped back to 1975, detailing attempts to trace the whereabouts of a Jennifer Hayden and her son, Scott. The reports went back till 1972. The last few pages made Mulder's eyes widen and his heart beat rapidly--apparantly the file he held in his hands related to a UFO investigation, which had started with the crash of an unidentified craft in Wisconsin. Mulder hastily reached back into the envelope to see if there was anything else in there before he sat down to study this file. He found one small sheet of paper with a note written in block letters: "617W IS IN TORONTO." scene 3c Unmarked Office Pentagon Washington, DC 7:00pm Even as Mulder was beginning to browse the files left under his door, the originals of the files' contents was distributed somewhat haphazardly across a desk. A phone and an ashtray filled with cigarette butts were the only other items on the desk. The man who occupied the chair nearby was perusing a recently received letter from an associate who had just returned from a vacation in Toronto, Canada. As he scanned the letter, cigarette in hand, the phone rang. The man picked it up, and addressed the party on the other end. "Talk to me." "Our operatives have learned that Agents Mulder and Scully are booked on a flight to Toronto, Canada tomorrow afternoon," answered the voice on the other end. "For what reason?" "They've been asked to help with the investigation of a series of unusual murders in the area. Beheadings, to be exact." "Beheadings, you say....Interesting..." "Should we..." "No. But we should send someone to keep an eye on them just in case they get too close to what else is up there." "I'll send Jones...." "No. I'll take care of arrangements." With that, the man hung up. He snuffed out his cigarette and carefully collected the files on the desk. He placed them back in the envelope from which they'd come, along with the letter he'd been reading. Then he reached for the phone. Scene 3d Dana Scully's Residence 11:21pm Dana Scully groaned as the sound of the ringing telephone dragged her out of the bed she'd just snuggled into. She glanced at the clock. 11:21 PM. *A case of sunflower seeds says that that's Mulder. I wonder if he has anything more on this case in Toronto*. She picked up the phone. "Hello?" "Scully? It's me, Mulder." "I went over the casefiles you gave me, but I haven't come up with anything..." "I actually called about something else." "What's up? You sound excited." "I found a very interesting envelope full of information waiting for me when I got home this evening. Looks like mysterious beheadings and electrical storms aren't the only interesting thing going on in Toronto." "Oh?" "Ever heard of Paul Forrester? Pulitzer Prize-winning photojournalist?" "Let me guess--he got this great shot of a UFO in Toronto which the government promptly confiscated..." "Close. In 1986, Forrester miraculously survived a helicopter crash on Mount Hawthorne in the Cascades. Or so everyone assumed, except for an FSA agent named George Fox, who was convinced that the person everyone thought was Paul Forrester was really an alien who'd cloned his body. Fox chased Forrester and a boy named Scott Hayden for almost five years, until the pair mysteriously disappeared. Fox ended up being committed to a mental institution because of his...obsession...with Forrester. No one seemed to know where Forrester and Hayden went, and the whole case was covered up." "Well, I don't blame Forrester for wanting to disappear. I take it he's turned up in Toronto? Mulder, the last thing this man probably wants is another crazed g-man obsessed with aliens knocking on his door." "I resent being called a 'g-man'. Anyway, I haven't told you the interesting part yet." "Oh?" "A few months ago there was an mild tremor in the Cascades that released some of the lava flow covering up that crash site from 1986. Apparantly the government secretly authorized a dig. You'll never guess what they turned up...the remains of one Paul Edward Forrester." "Are they sure it's Forrester?" "Only two people were on that helicopter--the pilot and Forrester. The pilot was apparantly carried off the mountain by someone...or something...and ended up being taken to a hospital by some folks who found him on their doorstep. He's still alive and well. Besides which, I have copies of Forrester's dental records and they exactly match the one of the remains recovered from the mountain." "Okay, then who or what do you think Fox was chasing..." "Ever heard of the Wisconsin UFO sighting of 1972?...." As Mulder began his narrative, Scully settled down for what promised to be a rather long phone call. Fortunately, their flight didn't leave until afternoon.... Random alley Toronto 5:00pm, Monday Stayde was smiling inwardly as he deposited money into the pay phone. He'd managed to spot Duncan MacLeod arriving at the airport and track him to his hotel. He was sure MacLeod had sensed him, but since MacLeod was with someone, apparantly his girlfriend, MacLeod probably didn't want to really make a scene trying to identify the nearby Immortal. Especially since he thought Connor was here and planning to meet him. Stayde wanted to maintain that illusion as long as possible. Until the final moment.... As he began to dial the number of the hotel at which Duncan was staying, he suddenly began to feel the buzz that indicated the presence of another Immortal. He quickly slammed down the phone and whirled, drawing his sword in the process. *Who...?* "Stayde! Your little variation on the Game is over! I've come for your head!" shouted a voice Stayde immediately recognized. Especially since he'd spent so long trying to imitate it. *Oops, wrong MacLeod.* Still, he didn't really forsee that much trouble. True, Connor MacLeod had a reputation as a very dangerous swordfighter, especially after he'd taken the Kurgan's head, but Stayde was no slouch. "Well, well. Connor MacLeod. Looks like I get two MacLeods for the price of one," Stayde commented as he strode to meet Connor's challenge. In a few seconds the fight was joined. A few yards away, a young man who called himself Scott Edwards was making his way home from an evening class at the local university observatory. As he rounded a corner, he began to hear very odd sounds. Like metal clashing against metal. Drawn to the noises, he quietly approached the alley. As he peeked around the corner, his eyes widened. *What the...? Sword-fighting? In Toronto?* Being of a somewhat curious nature, due to having traveled for several years with a photojournalist (okay, a hyper-intelligent glowing blue energy being cleverly _disguised_ as a photojournalist), Scott decided to get a better look. As the two men continued their battle, Scott crept along the wall of the alley. He hid himself behind some old crates and assorted litter of the type one usually finds in alleys. *Now what? I don't think these guys are faking it. Maybe I should do something.* With that thought in mind, Scott pulled a small silver sphere from his coat pocket. But before he could do anything, the fight reached its conclusion. One of the fighters, a tall blond-haired man in a battered grey trenchcoat, ran his sword through the chest of his stockier, dark-haired opponent. Scott swore silently and tried to concentrate on the sphere in his hand. As a faint blue light began to form in the center of the sphere, Scott heard the blond man say, "There can be only one." He glanced up just in time to see the blond man decapitate his opponent. *Ohmigod! The beheadings that've been in the news. That's the killer. I've got to stop him...* The glow in the sphere became stronger, but suddenly Scott felt something...some other energy aura forming nearby. He looked back at the blond man and at the body on the ground. A bluish white mist was forming around the body. The mist rose to envelope the blond man as what appeared to be lightening began to strike the ground around him. Scott hastily stuck the sphere in his pocket and dove for cover as the windows on nearby buildings shattered and a fierce wind blew through the alley. He heard the blond man yell, apparantly in pain, but that sound quickly merged with the roar of the wind and the lightening. *I've got to tell Dad about this...if I make it out of here alive!!* That was Scott's last thought for a while, because suddenly something struck him on the back of the head. As he lost consciousness, Scott thought he heard the squeal of police sirens in the distance. As the force of the Quickening died away, Connor heard the sirens as well. He decided to make a strategic exit, not wanting to have to explain what had just transpired to the local authorities. For some reason, police seemed to get rather unpleasant when they found you near a headless body with a sword in your hand. He decided to try and locate Duncan. Stayde's earlier comment implied that his kinsman was already in town. Gregory watched Connor depart from a nearby rooftop. He was somewhat disappointed with the way things had gone. Stayde had been so amusing to Watch, and he doubted it'd be quite as much fun Watching either of the MacLeods. Neither was into devious schemes of the type Gregory found so amusing--they were both so darn honorable. Though of the two, Connor might be the more interesting since he was the more agressive one. His kinsmen, Duncan, tended only to kill in self-defense. At any rate, there was one other detail that would have to be dealt with. MacLeod and Stayde had had another spectator to their little game, one who could ruin everything by telling the police what he'd seen. Unfortunately, the cops were too close for Gregory to get to the young man he'd seen in the alley. At least this time. But he'd keep an eye out and take care of the witness later. It was time to depart. Once the cops got here there was the chance he'd run into that annoying Nicholas. And that was something Gregory wished to avoid at all costs. scene 5---and *Quantum Leap* 5:30pm "We've got another one, Nick!" Nick sighed. Another beheading. When would it end? And when would they get a break in the case? He definitely needed to squeeze information out of that Gregory, though he wasn't sure how best to go about it. Especially since he really couldn't bring another vampire into the precinct for questioning. "Good news, though," Schanke's voice on the phone continued. "We've got a witness who saw what happened." Finally! "I'll be right there," Nick replied. *The nice thing about winter is that the sun sets early.* A few minutes later, Nick arrived at the crime scene. Like all the others, it looked more like the scene of a bomb blast than of a murder. Natalie was there examining the body of the victim. She picked something up with her gloved hands and showed it to Nick. "What do you think?" she asked, showing him what appeared to be an ancient sword. A very sharp sword, at that. "Could be the weapon. It's certainly got the right kind of edge on it," he replied cautiously. "Wonder why it got left behind this time?" "Look again." He looked, then saw what she was getting at. "No blood on the sword." Nat nodded as Schanke came up behind her. "Our witness says that the victim and the perp were sword fighting in this alleyway. That's the victim's sword, which he dropped along with his head." Schanke motioned to a young man standing off to one side, holding an ice compress to his head. "Nick, this is Scott Edwards, who may be the answer to our prayers. Scott, meet my illustrious partner Nick Knight." Nick shook hands with the young man, whom he estimated to be in his early twenties. He totally failed to notice the rather odd expression that came over Scott's face when their hands touched. "You okay?", Nick asked pointing to the large bruise on Scott's temple. "He's also a victim of another freak lightening storm, it appears. Says he got hit on the head by something that the wind blew up. The officers who first arrived on the scene found him behind some refuse in the alley," Schanke filled in. "So you saw what happened? What were you doing in the area?" Nick asked. "I was walking home from a class when I heard what sounded like metal striking metal, and I sort of decided to investigate what was going on. Guess I picked it up from my dad, who's always interested in seeing new things. Anyway, I saw these two guys fighting it out in the alleyway with swords. Just like in those old swashbuckler movies. I hid behind some boxes to see what would happen. Before I could do anything like call for the police, the one guy ran the other through the chest with his sword. Then, if that wasn't enough, he cut the guy's head off. Shortly thereafter, there was this freak storm or something...I'm not sure what. I took cover, but something still managed to whack me on the head. Guess the murderer ran off before the police got here." "You got a good look at him, though," asked Nick. "Well, kind of. I didn't get to close and it was a bit dark back here. Tall, blond, athletic. Look, do you have a phone--I really have to let my parents know where I am. I'm already pretty late for dinner, and they tend to worry if I'm not on time." "Yeah, Schanke has a phone in his car. Tell them they can pick you up at the station. We're going to want to get a composite of the guy you saw. This could be a major break for us in this case." Nat took Scott's arm, "Come on, I'll show you were the phone is. Then I'm outta here myself." "In a hurry to get a better look at victim number 5?" Nick asked. "Actually, no. I have dinner plans--a friend from out of town is here and we're getting together tonight. It's my night off...the first I've had in quite some time. It's not like I still need to determine a cause of death. Besides, you've got a witness now. And I doubt he'd, " she nodded at the body, "tell me anything we don't already know. We need an antiques expert to tell us anything important about the sword. Besides, word is you're going to be getting some out of town help on this case, including another medical examiner." Nat leaned closer to Nick to whisper, "I hear it's the FBI." With that, she led Scott toward Schanke's car and the phone. Nick shook his head, puzzled. *FBI? But this is Canada?* He turned to Schanke to ask if he knew anything about the FBI. But Schanke was staring at the body. He looked shocked, and Nick clearly heard him say "Oh boy!" under his breath. "Schanke?" No response. Nick shook his head and walked over to Schanke. He shook him by the shoulder. Schanke looked over, startled as Nick said, "Hey, Schanke. Don't _you_ go strange on _me_" Scene 6 Toronto Metro Station 6:00pm Dr. Samuel Beckett was confused. Which was understandable, and pretty much par for the course at this stage in a leap. He'd apparantly leaped into someone called "Schanke", a homicide detective who was in the process of investigating a beheading...or possibly a string of beheadings. He wasn't yet clear on that point. His partner's name was "Nick Knight", which he'd managed to piece together from listening to others talking to the man. There also appeared to be a witness to this crime--the young man known as "Scott Edwards", who rode to the station with him in Schanke's car. Fortunately he'd been able to follow Knight since he had absolutely no clue as to where the station was. Now that he was here, he wondered what to do next. Nick had escorted Scott to a nearby desk, where one of the other officers began to take down some basic information. Nick then walked back to where Sam stood. "So you don't know anything about the FBI being interested in this case? Cohen didn't mention anything to you earlier?" "Ah, well, no. Not that I recall," Sam stammered. "Well, maybe we should ask her what's going on, " Nick replied. He began to make his way towards the Captain's office. He looked at Sam, "You coming, Schank?" Sam suddenly heard the familiar sound of the imaging chamber door opening behind him. He answered, "Um, actually, I'm feeling a little strange. I'm going to the rest room and I'll, ah, meet you in a minute." He motioned surreptiously to Al, who had just appeared, to follow him. As he turned, Nick asked, "Are you feeling okay, Schanke?" "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine. Just need a second," Sam replied as he hurried to the rest room. Quantum leaping had taught him to always pinpoint the nearest restroom as soon as possible. As he entered, he quickly made sure it was unoccupied before turning to Al. "Al, what's going on? Where, or rather, when, are we?" "Well, it's 1995, Toronto, and you're a homicide detective named Don Schanke. Your partner's name is Nick Knight," Al answered. The tone of his voice indicated to Sam that Al didn't have much more to tell him. He nodded, indicating that he'd gotten that much already. "Does Ziggy know why I'm here?" "She knows that you're probably not here for Schanke or Knight since according to her data banks they're both still on the police force in Toronto. I was hoping you might have some other ideas about what to check, " Al replied, sounding apologetic. "Okay, run a check for me about a recent beheading or series of beheadings...that's the crime they seem to be investigating." "Beheadings? Yuck. That's nasty. Okay, let me see," Al punched something into the handlink he had that connected him to the super-computer in charge of Project Quantum Leap. "Aha." "Got something?" "Yeah...it seems that tonight you catch a suspect in the case. A Robert Greene...who also appears to have been a suspect in a similar case in 1985...though back then he went by Russell Nash. And he was supposedly dead. Hmm. Anyway, this Nash or Greene or whatever his name is is found dead in his cell tomorrow morning. Decapitated. The guards are dead as well. The case was never solved, but there were no more of those beheadings. And...oh, this isn't good." "What?" "It appears that Greene was arrested because he was ID'd by a witness, a Scott Edwards." "Yeah, he witnessed tonight's crime. He's here at the station now." "Well, you better keep an eye on him, Sam. Because sometime tonight, he and his entire family disappear. There's no data on what happened to them." "So, am I here to save Greene or to save Edwards?" "Ziggy says there's a 50% chance either way. And a 98% chance you're here to save them both." "Okay, I'll try to keep an eye on Edwards and an eye out for this Greene. Meanwhile, you'd better go back and see if you can get any more information from Ziggy..or from Detective Schanke." Just then the door of the restroom opened and Nick stuck his head in. "Schanke? Are you planning on spending the night in there?" Sam waved Al off, then stepped out of the restroom. "I'm done. What's up?" "Scott's ready to put together a composite of the man he saw, so I introduced him to the graphic artist and they should have a picture for us soon. We need to gather all the paperwork we have on this case. I talked to the Captain, and Nat was right. There're two FBI agents on their way here from the airport. Seems there've been a number of similar incidents in the US. Cohen hopes we can work with them and any information they have to close this thing up ASAP, " Nick replied, as they two of them made their way back towards their desks. Sam saw Scott talking to a man he supposed was the sketch artist. Just then, the desk officer called out "Detective Knight? There's a Mr. Edwards here--he says he's looking for his son?" "Okay, send him over," Nick called back. Scott calmly tried to describe the man he'd seen in the alley. At least, he hoped he appeared calm. Police stations made him nervous. Very nervous. Though he knew technically that he shouldn't have anything to fear since no one was after him in Canada. But try as he might, he just didn't feel comfortable being here. And it hadn't helped when he'd gotten that really creepy feeling when he'd shaken Detective Knight's hand. He wasn't sure what it was that he'd felt...just that it'd felt somehow, well, wrong. He wished he had a better understanding of those sensations he'd get every so often. His father was trying to teach him all he could, but he just couldn't prepare Scott for _everything_. Certainly not for what he'd seen that night. He hoped Paul Edwards, his father, would show up soon. Because he really had alot to tell him. Almost on cue, he heard the desk sargeant inform Detective Knight that a Mr. Edwards had arrived. He looked up, spotted Paul and waved as the detectives also made their way over. Knight nodded at the composite artist, indicating it was okay to take a break. Paul arrived at the desk just before Knight and Schanke. "Dad! Am I glad to see you!" "Are you okay, Scott?" replied Paul anxiously. He noticed the bruise on Scott's temple. "What happened?" "Just a little bump on the head. I'm told I'll be fine. It's just been _some_ night. Let me tell you. Oh, dad, meet Detectives Knight and Schanke. They're investigating the, ah, incident I witnessed. Detectives, this is my father, Paul Edwards." Paul immediately reached over to shake the hands of the two, which caught both Sam and Nick a little off guard. Neither of them noticed the very odd expression that crossed Paul's face when he touched each of their hands. Nick was too preoccupied with the case and Schanke's recent odd behaviour. Sam was just too preoccupied. Nick did at least have the presence of mind to say, "Nice to meet you. Um, we may be a while here. We've taken Scott's statement, but after the composite's finished, there's also a chance that someone else might want to talk to him?" "Someone else wants to talk to me? I thought you were in charge of the case?" Scott asked, a bit anxious. "Yeah, well, it seems these aren't isolated incidents. The US Federal Bureau of Investigation has some records of similar cases, and there may be some agents here who will want to talk to you," Nick replied. "Um, is there any chance of getting some food? I missed dinner, and since we may be here a while...?" "Okay, tell you what. After you finish the composite, I'll ask someone to show you where the cafeteria is so you can get something to eat. Mr. Edwards, this may take a few more hours--perhaps you'd like to come back?" "I'd rather stay with Scott. I'll call my wife and tell her we'll be a while, then we'll both go and have something to eat...when Scott's done with the picture," Paul answered. Scott noted that his voice sounded a little distant, and wondered if he'd also sensed something when he'd shaken Detective Knight's hand. It'd be something to discuss over dinner. That, and what to do about the FBI. Scott was not at all sure they could afford to talk to anyone from the US government. "Okay, Schanke can show you to the phone, and if you'll wait in the lobby, I'll send Scott with someone who'll show you both to the cafeteria," replied Nick. Sam nodded, and led Paul over to the phone that he'd fortunately spotted earlier. Scott returned to working with the artist, glad that modern computer programs made this alot faster than the old pencil and paper methods. Because he really needed a chance to talk to his father. Alone. Toronto Metro Police Station 6:15pm Having made his phone call to his wife, Jenny, the being who called himself Paul Edwards waited patiently in the lobby of the station. He rarely waited impatiently. Then again, he rarely did anything impatiently. At the moment he passed time by thinking about the fascinating pair of detectives he'd just been introduced to. He'd have to ask Scott what he'd thought about the two. First there was the one called "Schanke"--who wasn't really Schanke at all. Paul had immediately sensed that upon shaking his hand. He'd also observed that everyone who talked to Schanke was looking in the wrong place...as if they were talking to a man who was shorter than the man Paul saw. Then, of course, there was Detective Knight. Paul wasn't sure what he was either, but he certainly wasn't like any human Paul had ever encountered in the 9 years he'd been on Earth. He seemed much, much older. And not quite, well, alive. At least not in the human sense. Still, neither one of them seemed dangerous or intent on causing any harm, so Paul wasn't worried. In some ways, they were much like himself. What did worry him, however, was the "incident" that Scott had witnessed. Scott hadn't given him any details, but he knew his son desperately wanted to tell him something about what he'd seen. The idea of murder made Paul acutely uncomfortable...mostly because it was, like war, an idea that he just didn't understand. Why would one human kill another? It didn't make sense. Paul was also hoped that this wouldn't put Scott or Jenny (or himself, for that matter) in any danger. He'd sensed Scott's uneasiness when Detective Knight had mentioned the FBI. In fact, he'd been a little uncertain about that himself. But Jenny had assured him that the US government did not have any power here in Canada and that it was highly unlikely that they'd want to advertise the real reason they wanted Paul and Scott "Edwards". Besides, these FBI agents were here to investigate a murder, not aliens. "Just remember, Mulder, we're here to investigate a murder, not aliens," Scully said as she and Mulder arrived at the Toronto police station. She hoped he'd keep his mind on the real case at hand. He'd been pretty good about sticking to the case on the flight over, to the point of elaborating on why he thought the beheadings were the rituals of some bizarre international cult. He'd even gone so far as to say he was pretty sure the "Wisconsin ENBE (Extraterrestrial NonBiological Entity)", as he called it, was not connected to the beheadings in anyway. Though the electrical phenomena were highly suspicious. "I promise to behave. Besides, who'd believe me anyway?" Mulder replied with one of his smiles as he turned off the engine. "I don't recall that that's ever stopped you before," Scully remarked as they both exited the car and made their way into the police station. As they purposefully strode toward the front desk, both passed by the very alien they'd just been discussing without noticeing him. Mulder and Scully flashed their badges at the desk sargeant as Mulder said, "I'm special agent Fox Mulder with the FBI and this is my partner Dana Scully. We were told to contact a Captain Cohen upon our arrival." "Yes sir, she's been waiting for you. If you'll come this way?" the sargeant replied. He led them to Captain Cohen's office and knocked on the door, "Captain, those FBI agents are here." "Send them in. And when Knight and Schanke are finished, send them in as well," replied a voice from behind the door. The sargeant opened the door and indicated that the agents were to enter. As they did so, the asian woman behind the desk stood up and reached out to shake their hands. "Agent Mulder, Agent Scully. I'm glad the Bureau answered our request for help. Please have a seat and I'll fill you in on what we know so far." "I noticed you asked for the detectives to join us when they were finished. Are they involved in something related to this case?" asked Scully as she and Mulder sat down. "As a matter of fact, there's been another beheading. This time, however, it looks like we have a break. Detectives Knight and Schanke have come up with a witness to this latest incident and they're in the process of getting a composite description of the murderer right now. I'm hoping that the information you have in conjunction with the witness's testimony will help us catch this person and wrap up this case." "Well, it may not be that simple, Captain...," Mulder began. "How does that look?" asked the artist, indicating the face on the screen. "That's him, I'm sure of it. This computer graphics stuff is amazing--it almost looks like a photograph!" said Scott. "All done?" asked Nick as he and "Schanke" looked up from their desks where they'd been going over Scott's preliminary testimony and comparing it to previous cases. Well, that's what Nick had been doing at least. Sam had been trying to figure out the mess on Schanke's desk while pretending to do some actual work. He wished Al would return with some more information about this leap. He really didn't relish encountering more headless bodies or whatever else came the way of a homicide detective working the night shift. For lack of anything better to do, he got up from his desk to look at the picture now coming out of the printer. As he did so, the desk sargeant approached. "Detectives, Captain Cohen wants to see you in her office as soon as your done here. Agents Mulder and Scully from the FBI are here." "Okay. We'll be in shortly," replied Nick. As he did so, Sam caught the sound of the imaging chamber door opening. He searched his mind for a good excuse not to go to the Captain's office just yet so he could speak with Al. In doing so, he missed the look of confusion that crossed Scott's face at the sound of the door that supposedly only Sam could hear. "Ah, Knight, howabout you talk to the Captain and I run this through the, ah, the computer and see if anything comes up," he said, indicating the drawing. "That way, you can brief the FBI and we can get this taken care of at the same time." Nick nodded. "Sounds good. If this pans out, maybe we won't need the FBI after all. Scott, thanks for your help. You better go get something to eat. If we need you anytime soon, we'll send someone down to get you." Scott nodded and headed for the lobby to meet with his dad. Sam noticed that he seemed to be in a hurry though trying hard not to look it. *Well, he's had a pretty trying night. I just hope I can keep it from getting worse.* As Scott left, Nick made his way toward the Captains' office. Sam picked up the computer generated picture and headed for what he hoped was the appropriate computer. As he did so, he muttered under his breath, "What have you got for me, Al?" "You know Sam, maybe it's not a good idea for you to let Scott out of your sight. Ziggy doesn't have any information on the exact time of his disappearance," replied Al. "Well I can't very well go and have dinner with him when I'm supposed to be on duty now, can I? Besides, I get the impression he really wants to talk to his father alone. Probably had a pretty bad scare if he witnessed what happened to the victim. Do you have anything else on them or on this case?" "Ah, well, it says here that the Edwards moved into Toronto in 1992 and Paul runs a camera supply store across town. Other than that, we don't have much information. Edwards is a pretty common surname, and the names Paul, Jenny and Scott are as well. So Ziggy can't be sure that any of the Edwards families in her computer base are the right one." "Which doesn't give us any idea of what could've happened to them. Maybe it has something to do with this case. Maybe someone finds out Scott is a witness and, and wants to keep him from testifying." "But who? If the guy he IDs ends up dead anyway..." "I don't know Al! I'm just trying to get a handle on what's going on. There's something really strange going on. Has Schanke said anything about his partner?" "Why?" "I don't know, there's just something...odd about him but I can't put my finger on it. Then again, there's something odd about Paul Edwards as well. For one thing, he's awfully protective about a son that's old enough to take care of himself." "Not protective enough, apparantly." "Well, maybe he knows something that can key us in on what I'm here to do. Maybe he's protective because they're hiding something or from something. Look, since I can't watch him maybe you should go keep an eye on him. Unless you have something more useful to tell me." "I'm doing my best, Sam. It's not my fault we don't have much information..." "I'm sorry, Al. It's just that this leap....I have this feeling this is going to be...I don't know, there's just alot of weird stuff going on. Maybe it's just the after effect of leaping in standing over a decapitated body. Just, can you please keep an eye on Scott for me. Oh, and if you get the chance, see what you can find out about the FBI's involvement in the investigation. Maybe Ziggy can get some information from the FBI files. The agents investigating the case are Mulder and Scully." "Okay, I'll see what Ziggy can come up with. And I'll keep an eye on our witness." Al began pushing buttons on the handlink as he said, "Gooshie, center me on Scott Edwards." With that, he disappeared. Sam turned back to what Don Schanke was supposed to be doing. But he was thinking about what Sam Beckett was here to do. Captain Cohen looked increasingly dismayed as Mulder filled her in on some of the more bizarre aspects of the cases from the X-files that were similar to the incidents occuring in Toronto. He was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Come in, detectives," said Cohen. The door opened as Nick entered. "Detective Knight, I want you to meet Agents Mulder and Scully from the US FBI. They're hear, as you know, to help us in the investigation of these beheadings. We're to give them any and all help we can and in return they've offered to give us any information they have on similar cases in the US. In fact, Agent Mulder has just been telling me a little about the US cases and I have to tell you that it's beginning to sound like we have something more than just a twisted serial killer on our hands. Where's Schanke? He'll want to hear this as well." "Scott just finished giving us a description of the man he say and Schanke's running the composite sketch through the computer now. He thought it would be more efficient if I tell the agents what we know while he tries to get some backround on this guy," answered Mick "The witness's name is Scott? Can we talk with him?" asked Mulder. "His name is Scott Edwards. At the moment he's getting some dinner with his father who came to pick him up. We informed Mr. Edwards that it could be a long night but he insisted on staying. There's been alot of publicity about these cases and he might be worried about his son's safety. We have his statement, but I told him you might want to talk with him. We were thinking that while I was filling you in on the case it'd give him a chance to take a break," replied Nick. "Do you have a copy of the picture that we could see?" Scully asked. "Let me see if Schanke's finished running it through the scanner." With that, Nick exited the office and walked over to where Sam was fiddling with the unfamiliar equipment. Fortunately, he'd managed to get the picture through the scanner by the time Nick reached him. He handed the picture to Nick, who brought it back to the office. He handed it to Agent Scully. She took one look at it and gasped in amazement, then quickly handed it to Mulder. "Mulder, is that who I think it is?" Mulder nodded, then laid the picture on the Captain's desk as he stated, "It's Russell Nash." Relieved to be finally able to talk to his father, Scott tried not to obviously hurry out the door. He found his father waiting patiently in the lobby. Paul stood up as soon as he saw Scott and asked, "Can we go eat dinner, now?" "Yeah, they cut me loose for now. Though Detective Knight said they may need me...I guess to talk to the FBI agents who just got here. Um, speaking of which, I'm not really too keen on dealing with government agents..." "I thought of that, and I asked Jenny about it. Since we're not wanted for anything in Canada and since these agents are here to investigate this murder, I don't think we really have to worry. Besides, we changed our names, and Liz Baynes promised that she'd get someone to make up records for us just in case anyone wanted to check things out." "Okay, you're probably right. I guess I'm just jumpy. First there's this swordfight and a beheading and then this electrical storm or something and then this Detective Knight..there's something weird about him...and then the FBI. This is turning into a night right out of the Twilight Zone. As if my life weren't weird enough. No offense, Dad." Paul smiled. "None taken. I think we have alot to talk about. And I for one would prefer to talk about it over something to eat." "Okay, I'm pretty hungry. Let's go check out this cafeteria." "Hungry, eh? That sounds pretty normal. You're always hungry." Paul clapped Scott on the shoulder as the pair made their way to the station cafeteria. Al was worried. Which happened whenever there was a leap that neither Ziggy, he, nor Sam could really get a handle on. Which seemed to be more often than not. It didn't help that there didn't seem much information for Ziggy to go on. Robert Greene, the man who would end up headless by the end of the evening if Sam didn't stop it, didn't seem to have a past. The Edwards were no better. And without some past information it was next to impossible to determine what might have happened to any of them. And without that information, it was awfully hard to determine what exactly Sam needed to do. And Sam wasn't alone in having odd feelings about this leap. Something about this whole situation gave Al the creeps. He hoped he'd learn something from listening in on Paul and Scott. Maybe if Scott told his father what he'd seen it'd give Al and Ziggy something more to go on. As the scene in the imagining chamber shifted to the station cafeteria, Al made ready to catch any hint that would help them out. He found himself behind Paul and Scott, who were in the food line of the almost deserted eatery. "So then, before I could do anything, this guy cuts off the other guy's head!" Scott was saying. "Why would he do that?" "How am I supposed to know? It doesn't make any sense. I mean, the victim was probably already dead to begin with. And before you ask, no, I don't have any idea why people would be slashing away at each other with big knives. That stuff just doesn't happen anymore." "But it did happen. It's all very confusing. Why kill another human being?" "I think that's something alot of people would like to know. Most people are just as confused by murder as you are. Trust me." *Who's the father and who's the son here?* thought Al. It almost sounded like Scott was the one trying to educate Paul on the ways of the world. As the pair made their way to a seat, Al followed behind. He wasn't sure why he was being so careful...it wasn't like either of them could hear him. Maybe he was just making sure not to make any sound so that he could catch their entire conversation. "So tell me what you saw next," continued Paul. "Okay, that's the weird part. Instead of blood, this weird bluish white mist came out of the body and seemed to move towards the killer. Almost at the same time, I felt this...this..energy field or something which seemed to come from the body. Like nothing I've ever felt before, even with you. Anyway, the next thing I know the windows shattered and this wind kicked up. It was almost like a huge storm came out of nowhere. I ducked behind some of the trash in the alley just as I saw what looked like lightening start striking the killer. Only, I could kind of tell it wasn't realy lightening...it didn't _feel_ like lightening. Then something struck me on the back of the head and the next thing I know some policeman was standing over me asking me if I was okay. What do you make of that?" Paul seemed to mull over what Scott had told him. Then he replied, "I don't know. This energy field, what did it feel like?" "I can't really describe it. I got the sensation, though, that it was composed of different components...like it had been collected from various sources over the course of years and was just waiting to be released. Does that sound at all like anything you've encountered?" "Not really. Then again, I've never encountered people who cut off each other's body parts either." "I was hoping you might have." "Sorry Scott. It's a big universe, after all." *I wonder what that meant. This is weird, very weird. I don't like it. Beheadings of people who don't bleed and weird electrical storms or whatever. And these two--one minute it's like Paul is the child and the next minute he's the sage.* Al thought to himself. Scott's description of the beheading was very unnerving. Not only in what he described, but in the way he described it. "Okay, forget the beheadings. What do you think about Detective Knight?" Scott continued. "He seems very nice...but that's not what your asking. I felt it too. And I don't know what to make of that either. The only thing I do know is that whatever he is, he's not dangerous. Once, maybe, but not now." "What do you mean?" "I sensed that he had once done alot of terrible things but that he was very sorry about it...and very guilty...and therefore he wants to try to help people. Which maybe why he's on the police force. I'd like to find out more about him, but I don't think we should be asking too many questions around a police station. I trust what Jenny and Liz Baynes said about us being safe here, but I don't want to draw too much attention to us. Now I have a question for you--what do you think of Detective Schanke?" "Schanke? Why? He seems like the only normal person I've met today." "Because he's not Detective Schanke." "What?! How do you know?" Paul gave Scott a look that said 'how do you think?' "Nevermind. Forget I said that, it's just been one of those days. Okay, if he's not Detective Schanke, then who is he?" "I don't know. Tell me, what does Schanke look like to you?" "Well, he's kind of overweight, balding, dark hair, a bit shorter than me..." "That's not the man I saw. The man I saw that everyone was calling Schanke was about my height, medium build, light brown hair with a bit of grey over his temple...." Al had been listening to the conversation with growing alarm...and confusion. The comments about Sam's partner had been unnerving at best, and now it seemed that Paul, at least, could actually see Sam. The only people who could see Sam or Al were very small children, dying, or totally insane. Because Paul Edwards was neither a very small child nor was he dying, this left only one option. The confusing thing was, he seemed like a pretty likeable guy. Al frantically began pressing buttons on his handlink and muttering to himself. The handlink made some of it's usual noises... Paul suddenly turned around in his chair and looked right at where Al was standing. Al looked back and saw the puzzled expression on Paul's face. He was therefore only partially surprised when Paul said, "Hello?" "Uh, Dad, there's no one there...who are you talking to?" "Don't you see him, Scott. There's a man standing right here," Paul said over his shoulder while keeping his eyes on Al. "Who are you? Do you want something?" Al scrambled for something to say. This sort of thing was NOT supposed to happen. Unless this guy's mesons and neurons were operating on a similar frequency as Sam's...maybe that was it. He'd adjust the frequency later. Now he'd better come up with something to say. "Uh, you can see me?" *Oh, that was brilliant? What's he supposed to think?* "Shouldn't I be able to? And why can't Scott see you?" "Ah, well, you see, I'm not actually here. I'm a figment of your imagination...yeah, that's it. You're hallucinating." "I don't hallucinate." As he said this, Paul reached his arm out...and watched it pass right through Al. As his hand made contact with the hologram, there was a slight energy flux that both Paul and Al felt. Suddenly Scott jumped up out of his seat. "Whoa, what the..?! Where'd he come from? And why is he wearing such tacky clothing?" Paul was looking at his hand in puzzlement, then he looked back at Al. Suddenly, he asked, "Are you with the man who isn't Schanke?" Al had had enough. He was definitely going to have to run this through Ziggy...then he'd better tell Sam. He punched the keys on the link that opened the imaging chamber door and quickly exited from the scene. As the unidentified man disappeared through a rectangle of light, both Paul and Scott exchanged puzzled glances. Scott returned slowly to his seat. "What was that all about? Do you really think he has anything to do with whatever's going on with Schanke?" "It would make sense...and I like that idea better than thinking there's anything else going on that we don't know about. Police stations are alot more interesting than I thought," answered Paul, still staring at the place where Al had been. "Yeah, well, just don't get any ideas about staying here longer than we need to. This is just too weird. And that's coming from someone whose life is a science fiction movie. I think there's enough strangeness in my life for me already, thank you. I really don't think I want to deal with anymore." "I'd like to find out what's going on, but I understand how you feel. As soon as your finished talking to the FBI, we'll go home." "Good, because after all this, I could really use a good night's sleep. I just hope this doesn't give me nightmares." With that, both Scott and Paul resumed their interrupted dinners. Unfortunately for Scott, the night was just beginning. Motel, Toronto 6:30pm "So no word yet from your friend?" asked Dr. Anne Lindsay as she stood in front of the mirror getting ready for their dinner date with her old schoolmate Dr. Natalie Lambert. Anne had been rather surprised when Duncan had told her of his plan to go to Toronto on the spur of the moment in order to help out an old friend. Especially since it'd been her vacation and she'd hoped they could spend more time together. Fortunately she'd remembered an old friend she'd wanted to look up and with a little persuading (okay, alot of persuading), she'd convinced Duncan to let her come along. She'd called Natalie from Seattle to let them know when they were going to be in town and had managed to make dinner plans. Nat had warned her, however, that it was possible that their dinner could be interrupted by "the call of duty" at any time. Anne had understood, but so far there hadn't been any major changes of plans. Unfortunately, Duncan's plans hadn't gone so smoothly. He'd been expecting to hear from his friend all day. Anne wasn't sure, but she thought Duncan's tension had increased upon hearing about the rash of beheadings in Toronto. Of course, that could just be a reaction to finding out that the city they were vacationing in was also home to some crazed psychopath. At least he'd still agreed to go to dinner. Anne really wanted to, well, to show him off to one of her old friends. It wasn't long before they were making their way out the door. As they stepped out into the hallway, a voice called out, "Duncan!" Duncan was a little apprehensive about not being able to locate Conner, or Robert Greene as he was going by now, according to Duncan's Watcher friend Joe Dawson. He'd sensed someone at the airport whom he'd thought was Connor, but upon hearing of the mystery beheadings in the news he'd began to suspect that it was someone else. Even though he doubted anyone would be able to take Conner's head, he still wondered if one of the bodies in Metro Homicide's "collection" at the morgue might be that of his kinsman. He really wasn't in the best of moods, therefore, for having dinner with one of Anne's old friends, but he really couldn't think of a good excuse not to go. So he went through the motions of dressing for dinner, hoping that Connor would somehow get a message to him. As they stepped out into the hallway, he heard a voice call out his name that caused him to breath a heavy sigh of relief. *Connor! Finally!* He caught himself before he blurted out Connor's real name. "Robert! There you are. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to catch up with you." He and Connor gave each other a friendly embrace as Anne looked on rather amusedly. Duncan then hurried to make introductions, and tried to think of a good excuse to talk to Connor alone. However, he wasn't fast enough. As Connor and Anne shook hands, Anne made a suggestion that Duncan was later to regret. "So, you must be the friend Duncan's been dying to find. Listen, we're just about to meet one of _my_ friends for dinner. Would you like to come along?" Before Duncan could interrupt, Connor replied, "I'd love to!" as he shot a wink at Duncan. Duncan hoped, for Connor's sake, that his clansmen didn't have anything to do with the recent beheadings Especially since he recalled that Anne had mentioned her friend was the Medical Examiner for the local police. And Duncan remembered the New York incident. Of course, Connor had arranged his "death" after that. But if he was associated with the beheadings here in Toronto and someone did a check on him, the information from 1985 would surely come out. Then again, it was doubtful that anyone had a description of the "murderer" since most Immortals made very sure no one saw there fights. No one except the Watchers, of course, but since Duncan was one of the few Immortals who even knew they existed that wasn't surprising. And a Watcher was hardly going to go the police and report a beheading. Oh well. Maybe if Connor hit it off with Anne's friend he cut out the jokes about Duncan getting all the good women. 7:00pm Restaurant Natalie arrived at the restaurant five minutes before Duncan and company. She hoped that business would wait long enough for her to digest her food. She had the sneaking suspicion that even though she'd made sure to leave all her notes in plain sight and had given detailed instructions to Grace, the station would still find a pressing need to get ahold of her. She'd been tempted to leave her beeper at home, but that would've gotten her into entirely too much trouble. Especially if the FBI agents really needed to talk with her. *Oh well. At least I'll get a chance to meet Anne's new interest. She sounded really excited about introducing us. I bet she wants to gloat. Too bad I couldn't get Nick to come along. Then again, it'd be really hard to explain why he doesn't eat anything.* Just then she spotted Anne coming down the street with not one, but two men. *Oh,no. I hope she's not trying to set me up!* She waved to Anne as the group approached. Introductions were made all around, and they proceeded inside. The restaurant was a little bit crowded, but they were seated after only 10 minutes or so. They ordered drinks, and Anne and Natalie proceeded fill each other in on what they'd been up to. Anne also told the story of how she'd met Duncan, and asked Nat if there was anyone interesting in her life. Immediately she thought of Nick, but she gave a noncommittal answer. Anne smiled knowingly, then decided to include the men in the conversation. "So, Mr. Greene." "Please. Call me Robert." "Robert it is, then. How did you and Duncan become acquainted?" "Well, we have a mutual interest in antiques. You might say we met over a very old sword." That statement perked Natalie's interest. "Would you consider yourself an expert about antique swords?" she asked. "I guess you could say that I am," Connor replied as he shot a meaningful glance at Duncan. Duncan tried to hide a grin as he took a sip out of the water glass. "Well this is fortuitous. I have a question regarding an old sword that was found earlier this evening," Natalie continued. "Found?" "Yes. You see, I work for the Coroner's office and I've been involved in a rather bizarre string of homicides. I won't go into the details since it's really not an appropriate dinner topic, but suffice it to say we have reason to believe that swords have been involved. Actually, we suspect that sword fighting is involved, odd as that may sound in modern day Toronto." She almost mentioned that they had a witness to confirm this hypothesis, but decided it was best to keep that under wraps for now. "Anyway, we'll be needing to consult an expert on ancient swords as part of our investigation. Perhaps you'd be willing to help us out?" Duncan and Connor exchanged quick glances, and Nat thought he looked a bit uncomfortable. Maybe he was put off by finding out she worked as a ME. 'Hi, I'm Natalie and I'm a coroner' was not among the world's great pickup lines, she'd found. But then he smiled back at her and replied, "Sure, why not? Though I don't know how identifying the sword will help you solve your case?" Nat shrugged. "At this point, any lead is helpful. This case has been driving my Captain up a wall." At that point dinner arrived, and Nat decided to steer the conversation away from the gruesome events she had to deal with on a regular basis. The look of relief on Duncan's face at the change of subject went largely unnoticed. Metro Police Station 7:15 pm "Wait..who's Russell Nash?" Nick asked in confusion. From the look on Scully, Mulder and the Captain's faces, this was an important revelation. Obviously he was someone who'd been connected with similar incidents...and that could be a major break in the case. "He was a suspect in a similar set of incidents in New York City in 1985, but no charges were ever filed. Possibly due to the fact that Nash supposedly turned up dead not long after he first became a suspect," Mulder answered. "Decapitated?" asked Nick. "Car accident. But it appears now that either he was mistakenly identified, or someone was trying to cover for him. Or else we've got someone out here who looks an awful lot like him." As he said this, Mulder handed Nick the file on the 1985 cases. "Perhaps you can show us what you have on these cases?" he asked. Nick nodded. "Sure. Captain, if you'll excuse us, I'll show agents Scully and Mulder what Schanke and I have...and tell Schanke we've got an ID." Captain Cohen nodded as the three left the room. Nick saw his partner standing by the computer waiting for a response to his inquiry. He introduced "Schanke" to Mulder and Scully, and passed on what Mulder had told him about Russell Nash. He then showed the agents the files on the pass four cases and Scott's statement about that night's murder. Scully began looking over the files as Mulder informed the detectives about the US cases...and his theory. "So you think there are basically a bunch of these guys going around cutting off each other's heads for some unknown reason?" asked Sam. "I know it sounds a little odd..." "The whole thing's rather odd, if you ask me. You theory sounds as good as any we've come up with," replied Nick. "But that still doesn't explain these electrical disturbances or the damage in the immediate areas of the murders." "Maybe the swords act as lightening rods in some instances?" suggested Scully. "If that were true, the Middle Ages must have been a real trip. I really don't have a reasonable explanation for that...but I can toss out a few unreasonable ones," said Mulder. Scully rolled her eyes. "According to Sherlock Holmes, once you eliminate the impossible whatever's left, however improbable, is probably the answer," replied Sam. "Agent Mulder's explanations often cross the line between impossible and highly improbable," Scully noted. Mulder shrugged. "Well, I really can't conceive of a good scientific explanation for these phenomena. The closest I can come up with is the release of some sort of psychoenergetic force precipitated by the decapitation of one of these people. Maybe they're tapped into some sort of weird cosmic force... And when they kill another member of their group or whatever..." "They take his force? That's a little farfetched. Correction, that's alot farfetched," said Nick "Do you have a better explanation?" countered Mulder. Nick had to admit that he didn't. "Anyway, I think I'd like a chance to talk to Scott Edwards," continued Mulder. "Maybe there's something else he's remembered that could help us make sense of all this." "And I'd like a chance to look over Dr. Lambert's most recent files and perhaps get a look at some of the victims and any other evidence she has. And perhaps I could talk to her as well?" asked Scully. Nick nodded. "I'll show you to the Coroner's building, Agent Scully. Nat's at dinner right now with an out of town friend, but I can page her if you want to talk to her." "We can give her a bit more time. From what I saw of the files she already sent us, her information is pretty complete. I'd just like a chance to see everything for myself and compare it to the information we have from other cases." "Okay. Come with me, then. Schanke.." "I'll go get Scott and tell him we need to speak with him again," filled in Sam. Mulder nodded and indicated that he'd wait there until Scott came back up...and keep an eye out for a reply to their query about the now identified "Russell Nash". 7:45pm Police station cafeteria Scott and Paul were just finishing up when Sam came to tell them the FBI wanted to speak with Scott. Paul decided to wait in the lobby again, mainly to mull over the strange events of the past hour. Scott kept looking intently at "Detective Schanke" to see if he could see the man his father claimed to see. *Maybe if I touch him somehow...though I'd need a good excuse* With that thought in mind, Scott purposefully stumbled as they made their toward Schanke's desk. Sam instinctively reached out to steady him, and Scott tried to repress a gasp of astonishment as the features of the man beside him suddenly shifted. *Dad was right. Well, not that I ever doubted him. What is going on around here?* "Are you okay, Scott?" asked Sam. "Ah, yeah. Guess it's just been sort of a long day." "Can't say I blame you. Agent Mulder, this is Scott Edwards. Scott, Agent Fox Mulder from the US Federal Bureau of Investigation." Scott shook hands with the rather youngish looking federal agent before him. The fact that this man was named Fox made him even more uneasy. It wasn't a good sign. *And since when are you superstitious?* "I take it you have some questions for me?" "A few. I'll try to be brief since you look a little bit tired out. Were you hurt in the incident?" Mulder asked, pointing to the bruise on Scott's temple. "Got hit by something during that..., well, I don't know what to call it." "Some kind of freak electrical storm? Which occurred right after the victim was decapitated?" Mulder prompted as he motioned for Scott to have a seat. "Yeah. I take it you read the report?" "Actually, this isn't an isolated incident. We've had similar cases in the US. I just want to clarify what you saw. I know you're probably tired of telling this story, but can you describe what exactly you saw?" Scott nodded and settled down to narrate his story for the third time. *At least this guy isn't like other federal agents I've run into...or seen on TV. He actually seems like a nice person. I thought there was some regulation against that or something. Maybe I've just had too much exposure to the likes of George Fox and company.* Sam wondered where Al was. He'd expected to find his hologrammatic friend watching over Paul and Scott and was rather dismayed that he wasn't there. Of course, it was possible that he'd learned something important from listening to their conversation and he wanted to check on it with Ziggy. He hoped that was the case...he really hated having no clue as to what to do. At present, he was still waiting for word on the inquiry they'd sent out regarding Nash. As he let his gaze wonder over the room he caught sight of a familiar face hiding in a corner. Al began waving frantically at him to get his attention. *Now why is he _hiding_?* Al began making frantic gestures indicating that he wanted to talk to Sam and that he had no intention of coming over there. Sam gave him a strange look. *Okay, guess it's time to use the old bathroom excuse again. This is getting annoying*. "Ah, will you excuse me for a moment Agent Mulder, Scott. I have to ah, well, you know...." Sam began. Agent Mulder nodded and continued questioning Scott. He'd pulled out the old mug shots of Russell Nash and Scott positively identified him as the man he'd seen. Sam made his way over to the bathroom. As he passed Al he gave him a glare. He was about to say something when Al shushed him. He rolled his eyes and checked out the bathroom. Two for two--he was lucky tonight. No one was in there. "Okay, Al, what's going on? Why are you _hiding_ of all things? I hope you have something to tell me...something I can _use_." Sam began. "Um, we have a bit of a problem, Sam. I think Scott and Paul can see me...and Paul, at least, can see you," replied Al. "What?! How?" "Well, Ziggy's working on that. It's really weird. You should have heard their conversation." Sam ran his hands over his face. This was getting out of hand. "Okay, nevermind. We can't do anything about it now, at least not until Ziggy figures out what's going on. Do you have anything new for me? Was Ziggy able to get into the FBI records?" "Ah....no. They're classified." "Classified?? Look, Al, all I've got here is some wacko running around with a sword cutting off people's heads coupled with some bizarre electrical phenomenon...you should hear Agent Mulder's theory on _that_ one! He thinks it's some kind of psychoenergy force thing or whatever..." "That doesn't surprise me. We were able to get some backround on those two Agents. Agent Fox "Spooky" Mulder is known for his weird theories and obsession with the government conspiracies and paranormal phenomenon. According to his personal files, his sister dissappeared in 1973 when he was 12 and hasn't been seen since. Apparantly Mulder believes she was...abducted....by extraterrestrials. Poor kid. Seems that her disappearance destroyed his family and he's been obsessed with UFOs ever since." "I guess when you put it into perspective he's doing pretty well." "I'll say. He's got a master's in Criminal Psychology from Oxford and is considered one of the best criminal profilers in the Bureau. In fact, he helped solve several high profile cases and was able to manuever himself into anything he wanted. He chose to work with the X-files." "X-files?" "Unexplained or unsolved cases. I think this is right up his alley." "Okay, what about Agent Scully? She seems a little less...out in left field." "She's got an MD from the University of Maryland and apparantly was assigned to keep an eye on Mulder. Hmm, that's interesting. Anyway, they've been working together now for several years. Oh, and Ziggy says they're both still with the FBI, so you're not here to help them out. Though we did find some internal memos dating to about this time that seem to imply that Mulder and Scully were both severely reprimanded for continuing an investigation that they'd been told to terminate." "I wonder if that has something to do with..." Sam stopped suddenly as the door opened and Scott Edwards strolled in. Scott rubbed his eyes wearily. The evening's events had worn him out more than he'd thought. Agent Mulder seemed aware of that fact and didn't press him too hard. Scott easily identified the mug shots Mulder showed him of someone named Russell Nash as the man he'd seen earlier that night. The murderer. Scott hoped they'd be able to catch this guy soon. His mug shots made him look really dangerous--though it could just have been a bad day for him. *Well, if you're having your picture taken by the police I guess it is a pretty bad day*. As that thought passed through his mind, he heard the man who wasn't Detective Schanke ask permission to, well, you know. *I bet it's that 'invisible' guy again.* He snuck a glance to one side, following 'Schanke''s progress to the men's room. Sure enough, he caught a glimpse of bright clothing and saw the detective glare at the man who was hiding behind a file cabinet. *Hmm, wonder what they're up to...and who the heck they are. Well, there's one way to find out* He rubbed his hands over his face again and yawned. "Tired?" asked Mulder. "Yeah. Guess that's not surprising. Um, how much longer is this going to take? I don't mean to sound impatient..." "Actually, I think we're almost done. Just a few more questions." "I don't suppose I could take a break to wash my face or something. I'm kind of zoning out here." "Just a bit longer, really, I...." Mulder was interrupted by a noise from the computer. A message came up indicating that they'd finally gotten some feedback on Nash. The fax machine began to spit out a copy of the same mug shots Mulder had shown Scott and what looked like a police rap sheet appeared on the screen. "Okay, I guess you can take a break while I look at this. Send Detective Schanke back out here as soon as you can. He'll want to look at this as well," Mulder said as he turned toward the computer. Scott nodded, then headed to the men's room. He halted just outside the door, and hastily looked around to make sure no one was looking his way. Then he pressed an ear to the door. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he could definitely hear voices. A sneaky smile crossed his face. He knew _exactly_ what he was going to do. The conversation came to an abrupt halt as he made his entrance. He pulled a comb out of his back pocket and made as if he were going to the mirror to comb his hair. As he approached Al, he looked straight at him and said, "May I take this opportunity to say I really like that tie. Especially the way it totally fails to match a single other item you're wearing." He made a few cursory swipes at his hair with the comb. Then he turned to the man everyone had been calling Schanke and reached out as if to shake his hand, "By the way, I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name is Scott Edwards." "Scott...it's me, Detective Schanke..." "Ah, no. Actually I don't believe it is. You see, I think that _that's_..." he pointed to the reflection in the mirror...a reflection that showed not the man he saw in front of him, but the man he'd seen up until the false Schanke had reached out to steady him when he'd purposely stumbled, "...Detective Don Schanke. You, on the other hand, are a younger, slimmer, taller, blonder man. And since it's cumbersome to keep referring to you as 'not-Schanke' or 'guy-everyone-else-thinks-is- Schanke', I thought I'd take this time to find out who the heck you are." The other two men exchanged glances. The one that didn't show up in the mirror shrugged. His associate took a deep breath and said, "Okay, you win. You're right, I'm not Detective Schanke. My name is Sam Beckett." "So...you're an early twentieth century playwrite who's somehow jumped forward in time?" Scott said suspiciously and more than a little sarcastically. "Well, no, actually I'm a late twentieth century physicist who's somehow leaped backward in time..." "This _is_ the late twentieth century." Scott pointed out. "I haven't leaped very far back," replied Sam. Scott looked back and forth between the pair. "Okay, and you are?" he looked at the other man. "Just call me Al." "If you say so," Scott replied. "By the way, Agent Mulder wants to see you when you're finished whatever it is you're doing in here. There's finally been a reply to your inquiry about this Nash guy," he said to Sam. Then he made ready to walk out. "That's it? That's all you want to know?" asked Sam incredulously. "Look, if there's anything I've learned tonight, it's not to pry too deeply into other people's weirdness. It just gets you into trouble." With that, Scott walked out. Coroner's building 8:30pm Nick had stood by and helpfully answered Scully's questions as she looked over the data Natalie had helpfully left out in the open. He spent most of the time while she was reading trying to puzzle out what was going on with Schanke. His partner seemed different, somehow. Maybe the case was getting to him. Maybe he was just sick. *His dietary habits are probably getting the better of him. I don't care how long you've been a homicide detective, souvlaki and headless bodies just do not go well together* But something still nagged at him. He was convinced he'd heard Schanke talking to himself in the men's room earlier that evening. And his speech patterns were somehow, well, off. *Hmm, maybe this case is just getting to me. Glad we were able to get an ID on that guy Scott saw...though Agent Mulder's theories are a bit disquieting. I may have to go and be a bit more forceful about getting information out of Gregory. I'm sure he's hiding something. Maybe LaCroix...no, better not. He's the last person I want to go to for help* "Are all the victims still here, Detective Knight?" Scully asked. "I think so...no one's identified them, so no one wants to take them off our hands. I'll ask Grace to show you where they are. Do you still need me for anything? I'd like to see if Agent Mulder and Schanke have come up with anything else." "Well, once I finish here I'd really like to talk with Dr. Lambert. Say, in about an hour or so. I'd like to examine the most recent victim with her." Nick nodded. "I'll give her a call once I get back to the station and tell her to meet you here." "Thank you for your help, detective." Nick found Grace in one of the adjoining rooms and asked her to give Agent Scully any help she could. He then headed back to the station. Nat wasn't going to be terribly thrilled about coming back here, but at least she should've had some time to finish eating. Restaurant 8:45pm Natalie was thoroughly enjoying her evening out. She didn't have many of them, so it was a welcome change from her ordinary activities. Anne's new SO Duncan seemed like a very nice person, and his friend Robert was also quite charming. In fact, Natalie had the impression he was flirting with her, especially after that comment about Duncan's "getting all the good women" coming to an end. The dinner itself was excellent--this was one of the best Italian restaurants in town. Finishing up her pasta dish, Nat wondered if perhaps she could get Nick to work up to spaghetti. With lots of sauce. It would be nice if they could go to a nice restaurant together once in a while. *There I go again. Every time I meet an interesting guy, I start thinking about Nick. Stop it...just enjoy the evening.* She smiled at Robert. "So, Robert, do you think you could come down to the station some time and help us out with this sword we found." Connor smiled back and replied, "Sure. Always willing to help out a lady in need." *He has such an interesting accent* thought Natalie. *Kind of like a Scotsman whose spent alot of time in France. Or a Frenchman whose spent alot of time in Scotland* Nat was about to continue making arrangements for Robert to stop by the station when her beeper went off. Fortunately it was set on "vibrator" and not "beeper", so she discreetly checked the number on the indicator. She groaned involuntarily. She knew it was too good to last. "Sorry, I just got 'beeped'. Better go see what they want. Did anyone see a payphone around?" "I think there's one over by the restrooms," Duncan replied. "Great. I'll be right back." She reached the phone, decided she could spare the change, and dialed Nick's desk number, from whence she'd been paged. "Knight here." "Nick, it's me. What's up?" "Sorry to interrupt dinner, but Agent Scully from the FBI really wants to talk to you. She's still going over the victims, but she mentioned wanting to look over that latest victim with you. Can you meet her back at the Coroner's office at 9:30?" "Do I really have a choice? Oh well, at least I got a chance to finish eating and get some conversation in on the side. Guess I'll tell 'em duty calls. Oh, Nick, I think I found someone who can tell us something about that sword we found. A friend of a friend of my friend's is an antiques' expert...' "A friend of a friend of your friend's?" "Well, Anne's boyfriend had a friend in town and they brought him along to dinner and he offered his expert opinion. He's some sort of antiques dealer or something." "I see. Okay, tell you what. I'll meet you at the Coroner's office and get the details on when we can meet with him from you. Oh, good news...sort of...we've got an ID on that man Scott Edwards saw." "Why is this 'sort of' good news?" "Well, this guy, Russell Nash, is supposed to have been dead for almost 10 years. He was a suspect in some similar incidences in New York." "Boy this case keeps getting better all the time." "You're telling me. See you back at the office." With that, Nick hung up. Nat made her way back to the table. "Problem?" asked Anne, concerned. "Oh, it's this stupid case. I hate to do this, but I'm going to have to leave a little early. I'm sorry, Anne. Maybe tomorrow we can get together and chat some more." "Nat, I think you work too hard. But don't apologize for having to leave--I know that without you this whole city would be in trouble," replied Anne. "Thanks for understanding. Robert, Duncan, it was a real pleasure to meet both of you. I hope we can get together again without work getting in the way. Um, is there a number I can reach you at so we can work something out about you coming to the station?" she asked Connor. Connor grabbed a napkin and scribbled down a number. "I'll be waiting to hear from you." Natalie smiled and wondered if he had more than business on his mind. Both Robert and Duncan stood as Nat gathered her things. She offered to pay for her portion of the meal, but Duncan insisted that he pay for the meal. Anne offered to walk outside with her so they could have a few more minutes of conversation. Nat smiled gratefully and waved to the two men as she and Anne made their way out of the restaurant. "He's quite a find. Good to see you're doing well for yourself," said Nat as soon as they were out of earshot. "Yes, he's a very...interesting person to have around. I see you and Robert apparantly hit it off." Nat blushed. "He seemed rather nice. Have you met him before?" "No. Oddly enough, Duncan never mentioned him before he got a phone call from him last week. They seem to know each other very well, though." They reached Nat's car. "Looks like it's time for me to go back to the old grind. I'll call you tomorrow and we can work out something." "That sounds great." Anne then gave Nat a hug before returning to the restaurant. As soon as Nat and Anne were out of earshot, Duncan turned to Connor and asked, "So, why did you call me? It sounded urgent." Connor sighed, "I didn't call you, Duncan. It was Stayde. He always had a knack for impressions. He wanted to lure you here to kill you. Though I think he might have had a harder time taking your head than he did the others." "Had? So you killed him? Was he responsible for the beheadings here in Toronto?" "Yes. Using that same ploy--he lured Immortals here to Toronto by pretending to be friends or mentors of theirs. He figured killing them here away from any friends or loved ones of theirs would add to the mystery for the police, who wouldn't be able to identify the bodies. Stayde always did have a thing for teasing the local law enforcement." "Well, I think the local law enforcement might not be very thankful to you for ridding them of the menace if they find out how you did it. You accepted Anne's offer before I could warn you that her friend was working on the case." Connor shrugged, then flashed a smile. "Even so--it was worth it. Your friend's friend is very nice. Maybe your monopoly on the good women is over. Besides, what's the worse that could happen? She goes into work, sees a composite sketch of me holding a sword and says 'Hey! That's Robert Greene! I just had dinner with him'? You worry too much, Duncan." "Ohmigod! That's Robert Greene! I, I just had dinner with him!" Nat exclaimed in shock and more than a little dismay. *It figures. I meet a guy: he's handsome, he's charming, he's a psychotic serial killer. Just my luck. I sense a pattern forming, Nat my dear*. She'd arrived at the Coroner's Building at about 9:30, having first gone home to change out of her really nice clothes into her moderately nice work clothes. And to make sure Sydney, her cat, had a little of her attention before she dashed off again. When she'd arrived, Nick had been waiting outside the building. He'd told her that they'd gotten information on this 'Russell Nash' from the NYPD and that Scott had positively identified the mug shots before going home with his father after a rather trying evening. He'd also confided to her that he thought Schanke was acting more than a little bit strangely ever since they'd left the crime scene early in the evening. Once inside, she'd been introduced to Agent Scully, who'd told her what the FBI knew from the previous cases...and her partner's rather bizarre theory on the matter. Knowing something about things that others would consider bizarre, namely Nick, Nat didn't feel she had any right to say anything disparaging. And, after all, this case was rather bizarre. Nick had then reminded her about the sword. She'd gone into the evidence room to get it, and when she'd come back, Nick had pulled out a copy of one of the pictures of their suspect. He handed it to her in exchange for the sword, and she promptly collapsed into her chair. Now she stared incredulously at the picture. "Nat, are you sure?" asked Nick. He and Agent Scully exchanged glances. "Yeah, I'm sure...Nick, this is the expert on swords I was telling you about." Scully nodded. "Russell Nash was an antiques dealer in New York. I'm sure he's come across more than a few old swords in his time. You mentioned that he'd actually agreed to come here and examine that sword?" Nat pulled out the napkin with the phone number on it. "He wrote this down and said to call him whenever we wanted him to come over and check it out." Nick took the napkin gently out of her hand. "Well, we shouldn't keep Mr. Greene waiting too long. I suggest we all go back to the station and give our expert here a call. This certainly makes things easier for us." "We can look over the victim later, Dr. Lambert," Scully said sympathetically, obviously aware that Nat had suffered a bit of a shock. Nat nodded. "You alright? Maybe you should go home and rest..." Nick suggested. Nat shook her head. "No, I'll be okay. Let's go." *I want to look him in the eye when they arrest him and see if he really is the kind of man who'd do something so horrible. I just can't believe I'm such a terrible judge of character!* Street not far from Edward's Camera Supplies 8:45pm Scott was glad he'd finally been able to leave the police station. He'd told his father what he'd learned in the bathroom, and Paul had smiled when Scott had described the confused look on the faces of Sam and Al when he'd declined to find out anything more about them. Paul did confess he'd like to know more, but he thought Scott's handling of the situation had been appropriate. There were still unanswered questions about Detective Knight and the murder Scott had seen, but they both decided that there'd been enough excitement for one night. As they made their way home, Paul asked Scott if he minded if they stopped to run a few errands. "I know you're tired and want to get home, but I promised your mother I'd pick up a few things from the drug store." "No problem. Besides, the walk to and from the store might help clear my head. So much has happened, I'm getting a headache." "Well, that's pretty easy to fix," Paul remarked knowingly. "Yeah, but if this bruise heals up too quickly someone might start asking questions. And even though Agent Mulder and Agent Scully seem nice enough, I don't want to give anyone from the FBI reason to be suspicious." Paul nodded in agreement as he looked for a parking space near the drug store. He found one that was a bit out of the way in a slightly more deserted area. They both got out and made their way to the store. It didn't take long to purchase what they wanted and be on their way back out. Since the hour was getting late and it was a weekday, there were noticeably fewer people around than when they'd entered the store. As they neared their car, Paul suddenly stopped and looked around the relatively empty street. "Did you hear something?" "No, I..." Scott stopped abruptly as a man suddenly...flew...down from the roof of the building ahead to land right in front of them. Gregory had been waiting for his chance all evening. Now the witness was finally out of the police station and far enough away from that interfering fool Nicholas that Gregory could take care of him. Too bad he wasn't totally alone, but Gregory doubted the young man's father would be much of a problem. Now that the area was deserted, it was a perfect time to strike. Without a witness, there could be no arrest. Not that Gregory was particularly interested in keeping Connor MacLeod out of trouble...he just didn't want anything to get in the way of the Game. And he most certainly didn't want Nicholas finding out what was going on. As the witness and his father neared their car, he flew down to land in front of them. "What the..!" the boy called out as his father stepped between Gregory and his target. The man began fishing in his pocket for something, apparantly sensing the danger. *Too late, fool!* thought Gregory. He smiled and let his vampire self show--it'd be the last thing they would see. "Too bad, boy. Too bad you had to see part of the Game. Now you must die!" The man tensed, obviously preparing to defend his son, but Gregory tossed him negligently aside. He heard him land in some garbage piled to the side--probably unhurt for now. That would change. The boy cried out "Dad!" as Gregory advanced on him. He smiled at the boy again, while the boy began backing up frantically. Suddenly Gregory leaped, caught his prey and bent for the boy's jungular. As he sank his teeth into the neck of his target, the boy cried out in pain. At that moment, Gregory got the surprise of his death. Suddenly he found himself flung forcefully against the building and pinned several feet off the ground, spread eagle. He hissed in anger and frustration, but could not locate what held him to the wall. There was blue light all around him, so intense that it started to burn. He also sensed anger and a hint of, was that...curiosity? He couldn't see clearly through the blue mist surrounding him, but it looked like the boy was down on the ground in front of him, rubbing his neck and beginning to get up. Gregory strained his eyes to try and see what else was going on around him, but he couldn't move his neck. Suddenly, he heard the boy's father call out "Scott! Are you hurt?" The boy rose shakily to his feet and replied, "I...I think I'm okay. He...he _bit_ me! But I'm alright. Just a little shaken." The father came into view. Gregory hissed again. In the man's hand was a glowing blue light. Gregory was sure that whatever was holding him up against the wall was coming from that light. From the man himself. Gregory looked into the eyes of the man in front of him. Anger and surprise...and more than a hint of restrained power...were in that gaze. "You hurt my son," the man said. Gregory began to suspect that he was going to regret that. He began to feel something he hadn't felt in centuries. He began to feel fear. This was no ordinary mortal. Scott's vision began to clear as he took some deep breaths. His father was still holding the attacker pinned against the wall. The expression on Paul's face was one Scott could only remember seeing two, maybe three times. It took alot to get Scott's father angry--and more often than not his anger was a direct result of someone threatening the welfare of his family--Scott and Jenny. Scott looked at his assailant and gasped. "What is it? Are you sure you're alright?" Paul asked, concern in his voice. He moved a little closer to Scott, dividing his attention between Scott and his "prisoner". "Look at his eyes! And his teeth! It's like this guy's a vampire or something!" Paul was silent for a second, then, "Define 'vampire'." "Remember when we watched Dracula? Count Dracula was a vampire." "Yes, I remember. He doesn't _look_ like a...vampire." "Dad, he flew down in front of us, he bit me in the neck, he's got glowing yellow eyes and pointed incisors. That sounds pretty vampire-like to me." Paul looked at Gregory again, carefully. "He's not wearing a cape." "Um, I think the cape is optional. You know, maybe it's time to consider moving. I don't think I'm terribly thrilled with the idea of living in a city where people get their heads chopped off and other people are going to jump out of the shadows and bite me on the neck." Paul was still examining Gregory, still glaring at the imprisoned vampire. Suddenly he seemed to come to a decision. The sphere flared a bit brighter for a second, and the vampire seemed to slump. He was unconscious. Paul let him fall to a heap on the ground, watched him carefully for a few seconds to make sure he didn't move again, then turned to Scott. "Let me see your neck." Scott obediently turned his head to one side and let his father inspect the wound. He knew that if it was at all serious, Paul would heal it immediately. It felt a little bit sore, but not too bad. In fact, it was kind of numb at the edges. Remembering what he'd heard of vampire lore, Scott felt a moment of panic. Would he become a vampire? But he doubted he'd been bitten long enough to be affected by it, and besides which, if Paul found anything suspicious he'd take care of it. "It doesn't look too serious. Do you want me to fix it now, or do you want to show the police?" "The police?" "Yes. I think we should take this...vampire...to the police and tell them you were attacked. It may have something to do with the murder you saw earlier today. And there's something else, too." "What?" "When I pinned this person up against the wall, I got a sense that he wasn't human. The sensation I felt then reminded me of what I felt when I shook Detective Knight's hand." Scott gasped. "You're saying that Detective Knight is a vampire?" "I'm saying that whatever this person is, Detective Knight is the same thing. Except for one thing. This person meant you harm--I could feel that as clearly as I could see him attacking you. But Detective Knight doesn't feel that way. Remember at dinner--I told you I sensed that he wants to help. Maybe he can help protect you if there are more of these," Paul pointed at the heap, "after you." With that, he bent down and picked up the vampire, tossing him over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "We'll take him to the car and drive him to the police station. I think it's time to talk to Nicholas Knight." scene 11 Metro Police station 10:00pm Something was nagging at the back of Mulder's mind. Something about the witness. Scott Edwards seemed like a nice enough young man, very polite and helpful. But something about him...he looked almost familiar, but Mulder couldn't quite place him. Which was odd because Mulder had a photographic memory and would remember if he'd ever met Scott before. Well, it wasn't as if he didn't already have enough to keep his mind occupied. For one thing, there was that mysterious statement Scott claimed the murderer made just prior to decapitating his victim. 'There can be only one'. *There can be only one...what? Coca-cola? Definitive version of Casablanca? Crazed lunatic intent on beheading people? Hmm, maybe that's it. Maybe there can be only one of them...whatever they are. But why?* Hopefully they'd have some answers soon. In a stroke of almost unbelievable luck, Dr. Natalie Lambert not only claimed to have had dinner with the suspect, Russell Nash...or Robert Greene as he was going by now, she also had a phone number and his promise to come to the police station to help examine the sword they'd picked up earlier that evening. Detective Knight, Scully, and Dr. Lambert had returned from the Coroner's Building with this news a short while ago, and after a brief discussion it was decided that Dr. Lambert should call this Robert Greene and have him come down to the station. It made their job so much easier--would that it were always this easy! So now they just had to wait for his arrival. "So, Natalie, you said this guy was a friend of your friend's boyfriend?" 'Schanke' was asking. "Where is your friend from, anyway?" "Anne? She's from Seattle..." Dr. Lambert replied. At that, Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. Seattle--another city associated with these beheading cases. Mulder was sure the connection was more than just coincidental. "Dr. Lambert, who is this boyfriend of your friend? I don't know if Detective Knight told you, but the Seattle police have reported a few cases of unexplained beheadings in the past three years. There may be a connection," Mulder asked. Natalie looked confused and more than a little disturbed by this revelation. "Ah, his name's Duncan. Duncan MacLeod...but he doesn't seem the sort...Then again, neither did Robert..." she trailed off. "It's always the quiet one's you've gotta watch out for, " Mulder replied. "Oh dear. In that case, Mulder, someone better start keeping tabs on you," interjected Scully. Mulder shot her a look that said 'score one for you' as he flipped through the file on the Seattle incidences. That name rung a bell. Ah, there is was, a side note that one of the victims had been found near a dojo owned by one Duncan MacLeod. Better and better. He passed the note over to Detective Knight who was standing nearby as he said, "I think I may want to talk with Mr. MacLeod as well. It may be just a coincidence..." "But you don't really think so," finished Nick. Not long after returning he and Anne returned to the hotel, Duncan heard the phone ringing. It was Connor. Apparantly, Natalie had taken him up on his offer of aid and wanted him to come to the station. He'd decided to invite Duncan to come along with him, since he "could use a second opinion", and because it would give them a bit more time to talk. Alone, since Anne had claimed to be tired after dinner. Duncan hadn't wanted her to return to the hotel alone. Just in case. The uneventful trip back to their hotel had qualmed some of his fears, and he apparantly decided she'd be safe there by herself, so he agreed to Connor's request. Connor picked him up on his way to the police station. They chatted about old times as they drove. Upon their arrival, Conner walked up to the officer at the front desk. "Hi. My name is Robert Greene, and me and my friend are here to see Dr. Lambert. She wanted me to look at a piece of evidence?" "Yes, she's right in there, Mr. Greene." Connor and Duncan followed the officer's pointing finger and saw Natalie standing at a desk with several other people. "Natalie!" Connor called. She waved him over. Duncan scanned the group around her when suddenly his eyes froze. He blinked once, twice. It couldn't be!! The man he was staring at suddenly caught his gaze, then jumped off the desk he'd been casually sitting on. Suddenly, both Duncan Macleod and Nick Knight were caught up in a mutual flashback..... "Mr. Greene?" a youngish man in a dark suit interrupted Duncan's and Nick's reveries. *What's going on here?* thought Duncan. Connor, meanwhile, was looking more than a bit guarded as he answered the man who'd addressed him. "Yes, I'm Robert Greene." "Mr. Greene, I'm Agent Fox Mulder from the US FBI. My partner, myself, and these detectives would like to ask you a few questions." "Why? What's going on. Natalie?" Connor sounded confused and suspicious. "Robert Greene, alias Russell Nash...I'm afraid you're under arrest. For murder," said one of the detectives. Duncan groaned inwardly as Connor was handcuffed. Metro Station 10:10 pm *This situation is getting out of hand* thought Nick to himself as he 'recovered' from his flashback. *That man...can't...be here! It can't be the same man I met in 1863. I'd know it if he were one of us.* He shook his head, wondering if there was any way this case could get even more complicated. Just then, as if in answer to his unvoiced query, the desk sargeant called across the room. "Knight! Paul Edwards is here! He says someone just attacked Scott!" "What?!" said Mulder, Sam, Nick and Scully all together. Nick decided it was time to make an 'executive' decision. "Okay. We've got to divide our resources or we'll be here all night. Schanke, you and Agent Scully start seeing if you can get some answers out of Greene or Nash or whatever his name is. Agent Mulder, maybe you can talk to Mr. MacLeod here, since he's an American citizen and you seem to think he's got something to do with all that's going on. Nat, can you come with me and see if Scott is alright? I'll try and get a description of the attacker. Then we'll all regroup and compare notes." There was a brief pause while everyone considered what he said. Even though he desperately wanted to talk to MacLeod himself, Nick thought this was the best way to handle a rapidly deteriorating situation. The FBI agents and 'Schanke' seemed to think agree, because none of them launched a protest. As if on cue, everyone turned to their own task. 'Schanke' and Scully led 'Greene' to one of the interrogation rooms, and Mulder began to ask MacLeod a few basic questions. Neither 'Greene' or MacLeod seemed particularly thrilled with the situation, but Nick wasn't terribly concerned with their opinions. He turned to Nat. "Are you sure you're okay? I know it's been a trying night. Maybe I should call Grace or one of the others..." "No, Nick. I'll be fine. Maybe doing something will help me get my mind off of...other things. Let's go make sure Scott's alright." As they entered the lobby, they saw the anxious-looking Paul Edwards standing by the desk. "Mr. Edwards! Is Scott alright? Did you see what happened?" Nick asked. "Scott's over there. He's not hurt very badly. But I think we need to talk." Paul answered in a very serious tone of voice. Nick nodded, and Nat went over to where Scott was sitting down. Nick noted that he looked a little pale and tired. As Nat bent down to look at where Scott indicated he'd been injured, Nick heard her involuntary gasp. She looked back at him in concern. "What is it, Nat?" he asked. She hesitated, apparantly not wanting to alarm Scott or Paul. He shot a glance at Paul before going over to investigate whatever it was that had Nat so upset. Then he saw Scott's neck...and the wounds. *It looks like he was attacked by one of us...but why? And how did he manage to escape?* "What happened?" he asked again, looking back and forth between Scott and Paul. "Did you get a good look at who did this?" "He's in my car," answered Paul. "What?" "Dad clonked him pretty good," said Scott smugly. "Clonked?" both Paul and Nick asked in confusion. Nat looked at both of them, then interjected, "Um, I'd better take Scott over to the infirmary and put something on this." She sounded a little bit frightened, and looked at Nick for confirmation. He nodded, aware that he'd better find out _exactly_ what had happened as soon as possible. If Scott really had been bitten by a vampire, his life might be in jeopardy. Nick didn't like the the thought of Scott's becoming a vampire...and the thought of trying to explain it to Paul was even less appealing. Of course, if the injury was superficial, he'd still have to make sure neither Paul nor Scott found out...or remembered...what or who it was who had attacked him. He turned back to Paul. "So, the assailant is in your car? I think you'd better show me." "Yes." Paul led Nick outside and over to the car. Nick couldn't get a good look inside until Paul opened the door. Then he gasped. *Gregory! I knew he was hiding something. But why attack Scott? And how did a 40+ year old mortal _clonk_ a vampire?* "You recognize him, don't you?" Paul asked, breaking Nick's train of thought. "Ah, well..." "Scott says he's a vampire. That's how he was able to fly down in front of his and that's why he bit Scott on the neck." *Uh, oh. He _saw_ Gregory fly. And he suspects...he knows...damn.* "You didn't see him fly," Nick stated, looking into Paul's eyes. "I did see him fly," Paul replied, taken aback by Nick's emphatic contradiction. Nick stared harder, trying to erase the memory from Paul's mind. He began to hear the beating of Paul's heart as he stated again, "You didn't see him fly." Nick was staggered by a blinding flash of blue light that seemed to come from _inside_ of Paul Edwards. He covered his eyes and almost fell, but Paul caught him. "I don't think you should do that again," Paul said, in the same tone of voice one might say 'you should put on a sweater, it's cold out'. Nick looked back at him in shock...and fear. "Who...what are you?" he asked, almost in a hiss. "Please, I don't want to hurt you. I didn't want to hurt him," Paul indicated the unconscious vampire in the back seat of his car, "but I also didn't want him to hurt Scott. I know that you are a vampire, like him, but I also sense that you want to help us. I don't think he can be put into a regular jail, but perhaps you know of a safe place where he can be kept so that he won't try to hurt Scott again." Nick pulled himself together. Paul was right--it was more important now to protect the only witness to this case they had...and to put Gregory somewhere where he could be watched. Nick had a suspicion he wasn't the only one who'd want to talk to Gregory about tonight's incident. Such sloppiness in any vampire's behaviour was a threat to the entire community. He could find out the truth about Paul Edwards...and Duncan MacLeod...later. "Okay, I know a safe place. Tell the FBI and Schanke that I, ah, recognized the man you described as the assailant and am following up a lead. That should mullify them for now. Tell Nat as well." "Does Dr. Lambert know the truth about you? And will Scott be alright?" "To answer your first question, yes, Nat knows. I'd like to know how you do, though..." "It's complicated..." "I don't doubt it. To answer your second question, I honestly don't know. It depends on how quickly you were able to rescue Scott. I'll drop off our friend here and get back as soon as I can. After I have a better look at Scott I'll be able to tell you more. Can I use your car?" Paul nodded, and handed Nick the keys. Nick locked the back seat again, then got into the drivers seat. As he was about to turn on the engine, he asked Paul one last thing, "How long will he be out?" "Until someone wakes him up. I thought that would be best." *I've got to find out how he did that!* "Okay, good." With that, Nick started the engine and headed off to the Raven. scene 11c Infirmary 10:25pm "How are you feeling?" asked Nat as she led Scott over to the infirmary. The thought that he'd been attacked by a vampire...and had apparantly _overcome_ an attack by a vampire...didn't do a thing to ease her tension about the night's events. She began to wonder if anything else could go wrong, but stopped herself for fear that something else would just to spite her. It was one of those nights. She instead wondered how much Paul and Scott had surmised about who had attacked them. The way Paul had been looking at Nick..it was almost as if he _knew_. But how could he? And how in the world had he been able to take out a vampire...if that's who or what had attacked them. And looking at the injuries on Scott's neck, she couldn't come up with any other explanation. She didn't even want to speculate on why a vampire would attack their witness. "Um, I'm feeling a bit tired, honestly...probably too much excitement for one night. And my neck feels a little numb. Fortunately he wasn't able to do too much damage before Dad got to him...at least, I hope not. Am I going to be okay?" Scott asked, beginning to sound a little bit uneasy. "Ah, have you had your tetanus shot?" She asked as she bent to try and clean the wound. Scott didn't move when the alcohol pad swabbed his neck, which indicated to her that the region had really gone numb. *As if a tetanus shot would really help*. "Yeah. But I don't think that's really going to help in this particular instance is it?" "Um, I'm not sure what you mean by that..." Nat hedged. *How much does he know?* She picked up a bandage and covered the wounded area. It was all she really could do at this point. "There, all done." Scott turned to face her, and the look in his eyes said he was trying to determine something...like whether or not she was being honest with him. And how much she knew. Then he asked, "You don't think I'm going to end up on the all liquid diet plan, do you?" Nat was taken aback by that question, and it obviously showed. Scott nodded and said, "Thought so. You know about Detective Knight, don't you?" "Know what about Detective Knight?" she replied, feigning innocence. She didn't think she was fooling him. *But what I want to know is how _you_ know. I gotta talk to Nick...if these people suspect, we could be in alot of trouble. And if certain other parties find out they suspect....* Scott just shrugged, having come to his own conclusions about the matter. He stood up and rubbed his eyes. "Now I'm really ready for a good night's sleep. Thanks for your help, doctor. I hope no one is going to object to me going home..." "Actually, I think the detectives'll want your help on one other matter. They just apprehended a suspect who matches the composite. They may want you to identify him," she replied, returning to professional mode. She had the suspicion she wasn't going to get too much out of him if she pressed, and didn't want to give away any more than she had already. Not until she could talk with Nick and find out what he'd learn from Scott's father. "Figures. Well, might as well get everything over with now. Dad'll probably be back in the lobby. I might as well go tell him that I'm needed again. Mom's probably climbing the walls wondering where we're at. Thanks again," with that, he made his way back towards the lobby. Nat followed, hoping to catch Nick. She was disappointed, however. Paul met them in the hall and informed them that Nick had taken the attacker to a 'safe place'. Most likely the Raven. "He asked me to tell the FBI agents and Schanke that he'd be back shortly," Paul concluded. "Perhaps you could pass the message on for me? I think Scott and I would like to get home now..." "Actually, it looks like I'm going to be here a while longer. Seems they caught that guy I saw tonight...the one with the sword? They'll probably want me to identify him so they can be sure. I think I want to get it all over with since I'm already here," Scott interrupted. "Are you sure you're up to it? You look a little tired," Paul said, sounding very concerned. "Doctor Lambert, do you think he's going to be alright?" The look in his eyes said he knew Nat was aware of the exact nature of Scott's injury...and that it was very important to him to know the truth. Nat wished she had a definite answer. "Too be honest, I don't really know. If there's any problem, let me or Nick know right away. Other than being tired, Scott seems to be fine." Paul nodded. "Then I guess we'd better let the others know that Detective Knight will be delayed and find out how soon they'll need Scott to identify the suspect." The trio then made their way toward the desk where Mulder was interviewing Duncan MacLeod. The interview was not, in Mulder's mind, going very well. MacLeod was, to put it mildly, less than helpful. It was more than a bit frustrating, since Mulder felt they were very near a breakthrough and he was sure MacLeod was somehow tied into everything. It was just too convenient that this apparant close friend of a man suspected in the Toronto and 1985 New York beheadings was from Seattle, where similar incidents had taken place in the last three years. But MacLeod managed to answer all Mulder's questions without actually telling him anything. He was obviously hiding something--the psychologist in Mulder sensed that right off--but he was also very good at hiding it. And Mulder didn't really have anything to hold him on. MacLeod seemed to know that, which made it all the more frustrating. Of course, Mulder had another motive for wanting to solve this case ASAP. Somewhere in Toronto was a man suspected of being an extraterrestrial...and Mulder wanted to find him. Before someone else did. "Look Agent Mulder, I've answered all your questions. I don't recognize any of those people you showed me pictures of, I don't know anything about beheadings, and I don't know why you're keeping me here. I told you, I run a dojo, and I'm a collector of antiques. That's all. I know Robert from my interest in antiques," MacLeod was saying. Mulder took a swallow from the cup of coffee he'd requested a few minutes ago. Not that he really needed the caffeine to stay awake, but it gave him time to think. "Mr. MacLeod, I know you're hiding something. I don't know what it is, but I intend to find out." "Are you going to arrest me? Because if you're not, there's really no reason for me to stay here." "True, but do you really want me to keep calling your hotel and pestering you? Because I have no qualms about..." "Agent Mulder?" a voice said behind him. He recognized it as Scott's. "Are you okay?" Mulder asked. "I hope you got a good look at who attacked you." "I'm fine. My dad gave a description of the attacker to Detective Knight, who's looking into now. He said he'd be back as soon as possible. Dr. Lambert said you might need me to identify someone?" Mulder nodded. "Let me finish up here and I'll see if Schanke and Scully can get the lineup set up. Listen, did your assailant say anything, do anything that might indicate why he attacked you?" "Well, I wasn't paying that much attention. Maybe Dad can help you out. Hey Dad!" Mulder took another sip from his coffee cup as he turned in the direction Scott had called out to. He saw Dr. Lambert talking to a man over by the Captain's office. As Scott called, the man looked up. Mulder got a good look at him and nearly choked on his coffee. *Oh my God! That's...him. That's the alien! Paul _Edward_ Forrester. And that means that Scott 'Edwards' is Scott Hayden. They're here. Right under my nose!* Duncan was annoyed. Law enforcement officials asking questions always seemd to affect him that way. Usually because they always asked him things when it was horribly inconvenient. Right now, he _really_ wanted to find out who...or more precisely, what...Detective Knight was. Because he should NOT have been there...not if he was the same man Duncan had met in 1863. Unfortunately, instead of being able to talk to Knight, he was stuck answering this FBI agent's questions. He used his best 'polite but evasive' approach, hoping to stall long enough for Knight to get back from whatever had called him away. Now, listening to Mulder's conversation with the young man called 'Scott', Duncan became concerned. It appeared that this Scott had witnessed Connor's beheading of Stayde. And that spelled bad news for Connor. Not only that, but someone had attacked him--and it probably had something to do with Scott's going to the police with what he saw. Which meant that either another Immortal or a Watcher was involved. And that spelled bad news for alot of people. Duncan was also worried about Anne...or more precisely, about Anne finding out what was going on before he had a chance to explain. Natalie was probably going to spill the whole story unless he found someway to step in and salvage what he could from the situation. If he could just get away from this agent... "...Hey Dad!" Scott called across the room. Duncan noticed the man talking to Natalie across the room who responded to Scott's call. Agent Mulder did as well, and Duncan saw him almost choke. Interesting. Scott's father approached the desk as the FBI agent recovered his composure. "Ah, Agent Mulder, this is my father Paul Edwards," Scott said, as Paul reached out to shake Mulder's hand. Paul's eyes than shifted to Duncan, apparantly expecting some sort of introduction. *Sure, why not. After all, he and his kid just took the 'heat' off me. Besides, it'll probably annoy Mulder.* With that thought, he reached across to shake Paul's hand. "I'm Duncan MacLeod," he said. Paul smiled at first, but then an odd look crossed his face as he took Duncan's hand. Duncan didn't know what to make of that. He did note, however, that Mulder looked mildly annoyed. Good. "Ah, Mr. MacLeod was just answering some questions. He's an _acquaintance_ of our suspect," Mulder filled in. "Do you cut off people's heads, too?" asked Paul. Duncan sighed. "As I was just telling Agent Mulder, I don't know anything about what's going on here." Which was partly true...he didn't know too much about Stayde's motives, after all. Mulder shot him a look. Then said, "Mr. MacLeod, if you'll excuse us... But don't leave. I may want to ask you some more questions. And I'm pretty sure the detectives will as well." Duncan was tempted to just leave, knowing there really wasn't much Mulder could do to him short of arresting him. And he didn't have the evidence to do so. But he really wanted to talk to Knight. And Natalie. So he nodded as he rose from his seat. He decided he'd best start with talking to Natalie. As he made his way over to where she stood, he caught more of the conversation behind him. "So, ah, Mr. Edwards. Is there anything you noticed about the assailant that would be of any help to us? Anything to connect him to this case?" "Actually, he did say something about Scott's witnessing 'the Game'. Does that mean anything? And I also noticed that he had a tatoo on his wrist." It may not have meant anything to Agent Mulder, but it sure did to Duncan. It confirmed his suspicions. A Watcher had attacked Scott. But why? As Mulder requested a drawing of the tatoo, Duncan arrived next to Nat. She was apparantly lost in thought and didn't see him approach. "Natalie? Can we talk?" She looked at him, distantly at first, then seemed to focus in on him. "Duncan? Ah, yeah. I guess so..." "I just want you to know I'm sorry this had to happen. I really don't know anything about what's going on with Robert. And I hope you don't think..." Natalie sighed, "Frankly, I don't know what to think. I'll be blunt--you seem to be a pretty nice guy, but so did Robert... So I don't know whether or not to believe you. I hope you're not pulling any crap on Anne, because if you are...." "Believe me, I would never do anything to hurt Anne. And I really am a decent guy. I know this looks bad, but really it's all a misunderstanding." He didn't know if she believed him, but it was the best he could do. And at the moment, he felt a pressing need to call Joe Dawson. To find out why a Watcher would be trying to kill the witness. scene 12 The Raven 10:40pm Nick almost drove right past his destination, so absorbed was he in his private thoughts about all the strange events that had occurred that night. He found a convenient spot near the back entrance of Janette's nightclub. Fortunately, his passenger...or prisoner...was still unconscious in the back of the Edwards' car. Of course, Nick had no idea how he was going to explain that to Janette. Because he didn't know the answer himself. He made his way around to the front entrance of the club and entered there. Janette was in her usual spot by the bar, watching the patrons as they danced, talked, drank, etc the night away. She turned toward him as he approached and smiled. "Ah, Nicholah. So good to see you again. I hope this isn't more...business." "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Janette. But there's something I need your help with." "What would you do without me? What is it _this_ time?" "Well, I seemed to have run into a little trouble with Gregory..." "Nicholah, I warned you about him. Not everyone is as _indulgent_ regarding your involvement in mortal affairs..." "Actually, Gregory seems to have become a little too involved in mortal affairs himself. He tried to kill the only witness we have in the beheadings case." "_Tried_ to kill? He was not successful? I take it he was interrupted." "That's one way to put it. Can you meet me by the back entrance?" Janette sighed. She motioned to Miklos, who was tending the bar, to keep an eye on things for her as she put down her drink. "Very well. But one day, one day very soon, I'm going to call in all the debts you owe to me." "I'd be very disappointed if you didn't," Nick replied as he turned and headed back out to his car. By the time he had made it back, Janette had opened the rear door and was waiting. He motioned to her to come over by the car as he opened the back door. Janette looked at the unconscious vampire in the back, then turned toward Nick. "What did you do?" "_I_ didn't do anything. The witness's father did this to him." "A _mortal_ did this. Nicholah, that is impossible." "That's what I thought. But Gregory hasn't stirred since he was brought to me." "He was _brought_ to you? By whom?" "By the man who," Nick searched for the appropriate term. He decided Scott had said it best, "_clonked_ him. He seemed to know that I would know what to do with Gregory." "Do they know what Gregory is? How did they link him to you?" Nick was hesitant to answer. He really didn't want the vampire community...particularly the Enforcers...after the Edwards. Then again, he wasn't sure that the Edwards weren't perfectly capable of handling themselves. He was impatient to get back to the station to see if he could learn more about them...and MacLeod...and the beheadings. Still, he doubted Janette was going to be content to let him dump Gregory off and leave with no explanations. "They might..suspect." "Might? Nicholah, you know the rules..." "I'll take care of it. Please, you have to trust me. This is the only place I could bring him. I don't want him attacking any more people. And I want some answers of my own. Such as what he knows about these beheadings and why he'd want to get rid of the only witness we have." "Hmm. You might not be the only one interested in those answers. Very well, I will keep him here." "And you won't tell the Enforcers?" "Nicholah..." "Please, Janette. At least give me a chance to talk to the man who did this to Gregory. Perhaps I can convince him that his suspicions are incorrect...and even if I can't, I don't think he's the type to go spreading that information." "You're not especially well known for being an excellent judge of character. And this goes beyond your detective _hobby_. We're talking about the safety of the whole community..." "Janette, I really don't have time to argue with you. Just help me get him inside." With that, Nick reached in to pick up the unconscious Gregory. He threw him over his shoulder and motioned for Janette to get the door. She led him to one of the back rooms of the club. Nick laid Gregory down on a sofa, then turned to Janette. "I was told he wouldn't wake up until someone specifically woke him up. Can you make sure he isn't disturbed?" Janette sighed. "I'll do what I can. But there are some who will want to know who overcame him and why he was so foolish as to attack a mortal. He knows that we no longer do so except in dire circumstances because we don't want to attract unwanted attention. He will have to answer for what he has done...and so will you if word gets out you are protecting someone who could be a danger to us." "I really don't think there's any danger. Just keep an eye on him, please?" Janette nodded, and Nick gave her a quick kiss as he made his way back out to the car. He was in a hurry to get back to the station. After Nicholas left, Janette stared at Gregory for a few minutes. The fool. He had jeopardized the community because of some secret agenda of his own. Her loyalty to Nicholas vied with her loyalty to the community--could she keep Gregory's condition a secret? If there was someone...or something...out there that could do _this_ to one of them, it was a threat to all of them. Something had to be done...and LaCroix would know what. Her decision made, Janette strode out of the room. End scene 12