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Joe sat and proceeded to tell how he knew of Dr Sam Beckett. Even Methos listened intently, still feeling like he had stepped into the twilight zone, or was that just everyone else....
"The summer I was 19, my parents decided to get a divorce. It turned messy and the court cases were stressful for everyone. My father accused my mother of having an affair. She denied it and everyone believed her, apart from my father. He kept on at her. Then she tried to kill herself".
There was a collective gasp at this history of Joe's that no-one knew about. It seemed that he been keeping more than one secret over the years.
Regaining his composure, Joe took a deep breath and continued.
"She didn't succeed, but everyone believed it was me who had saved her, found her before she could take any more pills. That I had somehow known where to find her, known what was going to happen. No-one could have known. And it was impossible that I could have found her, because it wasn't me. I have memories of being somewhere else over four days that August. Vague memories of a white room, a cigar-smoking Admiral, and seeing someone else's face in the mirror."
This time it was Sam and Al's turn to visibly pale, and Al was frantically hitting the hand-link.
"Al...?"
"It's coming Sam. Get a move on Ziggy!" he shouted.
"Sam, did you..." queried Richie, amazed.
"I don't know. Very possibly. Unfortunately, leaping plays havoc with my memory."
"Got it! It was a leap from a few years ago. I'm surprised I didn't recognise the name!"
Sam decided not to mention that there were probably too many names by now to remember them all, and just nodded.
"Wow!" exclaimed Richie.
"You can say that again. We never knew what memories leapees retain after the leaps, but we always thought it wasn't much. Guess we were wrong..."
"You never told anyone about this, Joe?"
"Of course not, who'd believe me? But, it is true isn't it, I didn't imagine it? Years later I saw a picture in Time magazine of a Nobel prize-winning physicist called Sam Beckett. It's you, isn't it?" Joe was in awe.
Sam blushed. It looked very strange on Duncan MacLeod.
"Yes, it is", he confirmed.
"It's an honour to meet you Dr Beckett..."
"Well, thank you. I'm only here to help..."
"Guys, if you've finished with the mutual appreciation society act, can you please explain, in words of one syllable or less, preferably, exactly what the situation is here!" demanded Methos, still lost, although, being Methos, he was beginning to get the main idea. He just wasn't sure if he believed it. After all, he hadn't survived for 5000 years by believing every strange story he came across. Then again, if what Joe said was true, and the mortal wasn't exactly known for lying...
They all turned to Methos.
"It's all true, Methos..." Richie began.
"So, you Mac, are really a time-travelling physicist, and Joe, you swapped places with him when you were nineteen and he saved your mother's life?"
"Yeah, that's about the size of it."
"Why? How?"
"A quantum accelerator. It allows you to travel back into the past within your own lifetime", Sam explained, again. They all missed the slight shudder from Methos that accompanied that statement.
"I don't get a choice as to where I leap. It was supposed to be for observation, but when I stepped into the accelerator too early I got stuck. We think that God, or time, or whatever is leaping me, and I'm destined to change history for the better. Then, maybe I can go home".
"How long have you been leaping?"
"Seven years, now, and it's getting tougher and tougher".
"So, why are you here?"
"It's us..." Richie exclaimed.
"What do you mean, it's us?"
"Slow down, OK", Sam interjected. Glancing around, he was surprised to notice that in all the confusion, he hadn't heard Al leave again.
"Now, I have a link with the future, my friend Al. He supplies me data so that we know what to do. For some reason Richie can see him as well. Usually, only I can see and hear him as we use a nureo holographic link." He paused, almost hearing Al tell him that he was going into 'genius mode' again and babbling about technology and science.
"Anyway," he continued, "Al says that I'm here to save your lives, and stop Joe getting accused of murder".
"Someone frames Joe for murder?!"
"Yeah, Methos, our murder! Yours, mine, and Mac's!"
"Do you have any idea who the murderer really is - uh, was?" Methos asked. He'd decided, in the face of no other evidence to believe this unbelievable story. As usual, standard response when faced with the unknown, do nothing, go with the flow. If this Sam or whoever he was, even if it was Mac and something very bizarre had happened to him, turned out to be dangerous, he would deal with it then. Meanwhile, he would keep his eyes and ears open.
"No. Joe gets charged, and although there is some doubt later, it's too late. Joe is executed..."
"Oh, boy", whispered Richie.
"Sounds like they wanted a scapegoat, too many 'strange murders' going on in Seacouver..."
"Do you think it could be a set up?" asked Methos.
"Hunters?" asked Richie.
"Always possible."
"It would be very unlikely for you to get caught at a scene of a quickening. Not to mention how unusual it would be for me, Richie and Mac to all be fighting at the same time."
"Unless we were being hunted."
"You think hunters and Immortals working together, Richie?"
"Wouldn't be the first time, Joe", Methos replied with a grimace.
"Hold it! What's a Hunter?"
"A Watcher..."
"Like you...?"
"No, not like Joe! They think we're the scum of the universe or something and have to be killed. They break the non-interference rules even more than Joe does. Watchers usually observe and record, but Joe's our friend and helps us. We'd be pretty stuck without him."
"Ahhh, gee, thanks, Richie," Joe replied with a soppy grin, before cracking up with laughter, closely followed by Methos. Richie shook his head - Watchers, they had the strangest sense of humour!
"Why don't you get Al to find the police records or something. And any court proceeding reports?"
"There wouldn't be any references to Immortals in them, though."
"You'd rather die than tell the truth?!"
"Always. If I'm dead, it doesn't matter. If the world finds out about Immortals and Watchers, it's chaos".
The three friends fell silent as the reality of the situation sunk in. It was up to them to protect their mortal friend, and, with any luck save their own heads, not to mention the secret of the Immortals' existence. It was one thing to go in the Game, but if it was a hunter - mortal or Immoral, and a set-up, they wanted every advantage they could get.
"Joe, are there any unusual Immortal movements around Seacouver at the moment?" asked Methos.
"Only Jim Matthews, and Mac killed him".
"He..he was the guy...when I leapt in..?"
"Um, yeah", agreed Richie, realising what Sam was saying.
"He was hunting Mac", commented Joe.
"Oh", was the only response from Sam.
"Sam, Mac's a good guy. He only kills when he really has to. It's difficult to understand if you're not an Immortal. When I first came back, I loathed the idea of killing, I still do, but I have killed. It's kill or be killed".
Sam nodded slowly, whilst Methos grinned at Richie. Maybe there was some hope for the kid yet.
"Mark Daniels", Methos suddenly remarked, remembering.
"Who..?" asked Richie.
"Mark Daniels. He is - was - Matthews' student."
"Student..."
"That wasn't in the chronicles..." Joe muttered.
"I had a run in with him a couple of years ago, after I tried to challenge Matthews..."
"You challenged Matthews? Why?" asked Richie.
"I guess Mac's morals rubbed off on me. They were terrorising a couple of teenagers, showing off..."
"Not to mention having a reputation of a head-hunter?"
"Yeah, that too..."
"Great. Mr 'I-haven't-felt-guilt-since-the-eleventh-century' has turned into a boy scout..." But Richie had a grin on his face.
"Anyway", Methos continued, ignoring him, "having escaped me, Matthews decided that, as I was obviously so young and foolish, he would let his student practice on me. He only escaped by having the police show up. I would have caught up with them, but then other things kind of took my attention..."
Joe nodded, imaging what those other things were. It had been an eventful year or so.
"And Daniels is still alive?"
"So far as I know. He was like a son to Matthews. Like all good sons, Daniels has started to follow in his father's footsteps. Matthews kept him well hidden from Watchers, and most other Immortals."
"Trust you to know this. But, you think Daniels will be out for revenge?"
"It's very possible. However, he's still young, and inexperienced."
"Which means he would need help to pull this off. Which means..."
"Hunters. Hmm, I wonder just who's pulling whose string on this one?"
"Give me another beer, will ya?" the young-looking man growled at the bartender. The bartender hesitated for just a minute. The man had had quite a bit to drink already, although he wasn't causing any trouble - yet. He just sat there looking dark and moody, his long black coat swirled around him. Occasionally he muttered under his breath. Harsh, painfilled words about his teacher and the man who had just killed him. The bartender served him. It was business after all.
Mark Daniels downed the drink as soon as it was put in front of him, but it was no good. Nothing dulled the pain. And the anger. Jim had been all he had left, and now that bastard MacLeod had killed him. He would pay. Mark would see to that!
Half-hidden in the shadows of the other side of the bar, a middle-aged man smiled to himself as he watched the emotions flick across Mark Daniels' face. Watched the obvious thoughts going on in the other man's head. It was what he did. Yes, he thought, Daniels would be a good ally.
Mark looked up at the feel of a hand on his shoulder.
"Greetings", the grey haired man addressed him.
"What do you want?" Mark growled in reply.
"It's not what I want, it's what you want. And I can help you get it, Mark."
"Who are you? How do you know my name?!"
"My name's Ben Horton. Tell me, have you ever heard of the Watchers".
The man sat down next to Mark. After half an hour of quiet conversation, a grin slowly spread across mark Daniels' face, and a self-satisfied one played across Ben Horton's lips. The two men shook hands.
"So, you know what to do?" Horton confirmed, standing up. Daniels nodded. Horton nodded in response.
" 'Till tomorrow, then", Horton remarked, and slipped out of the bar. Mark Daniels sipped the rest of his drink, the grin still on his face. He felt much better. Oh, yes, Duncan MacLeod would pay. And he wouldn't be the only one.
Giving Daniels one last look through the window of the bar, Horton smiled to himself again. It had begun, and there was nothing his cousin's interfering brother-in-law could do about it, however far in the organisation he had reached. They would get their revenge. It was almost a shame that Daniels' would have to be short-lived. Ben almost felt sorry for the fact that Mark was an immortal, and as such, could also not be allowed to live. However, for now, he served the Hunters' purposes.