It's a Good Thing {2/2}

      Nancy (nlbaker@HOME.COM)
      Fri, 1 Jun 2001 11:12:36 -0400

      • Messages sorted by: [ date ][ thread ][ subject ][ author ]
      • Next message: Tim Laird-DAA Productions: "Matters of Honor and Justice 0/3"
      • Previous message: Nancy: "It's a Good Thing (1/2)"

      --------
      Disclaimer in part one.
      
      *****
      
      After returning to the Victorian-themed abandoned
      submarine base, Silas entered a room where Methos and
      Caspian were waiting.
      
      Silas looked around at all the antique furnishing and
      asked, "What the hell is this place?"
      
      "This is Kronos' idea of Camelot," Methos said flatly,
      and then peered up from a book.
      
      Silas sat down in a chair and ran his hands over the
      velvet. "Where are the stables?" He gazed at Methos
      inquisitively.
      
      Methos shook his head negatively and went back to
      reading.
      
      "Then how do we ride?" Silas asked simply.
      
      "Where have you been for the last 2000 years, idiot?
      Living in the woods? Do you think we can just mount
      up and gallop down Broadway," Caspian said derisively
      as he glanced over his shoulder.
      
      "We can do whatever we please." Silas glared at his
      brother.
      
      Holding up a cage that contained a large rat, Caspian
      chuckled. "Four guys on horseback. Wild masks.
      They'll think we're in a circus."
      
      "They wouldn't think it for long, would they?" Silas
      asked with a touch of defensiveness.
      
      Caspian walked over, carrying the cage. "We're having
      a friend for dinner. Tell me, what goes best with
      rodent, red or white?"
      
      "Eat him and I'll eat you." Silas warned.
      
      "You're crazy. You should have been in the madhouse,
      instead of me. Or maybe Kronos..." He peered over at
      Methos and chuckled. "He's a bit off his feed, eh
      Methos. All these things... " He looked around the
      room and shook his head. "And the clothes!" Caspian
      laughed but Methos didn't join in, never peering up
      from his book.
      
      Silas grabbed his axe, rising to his feet. Caspian
      responded by picking up his sword and readying
      himself. Methos briefly glanced at them before
      returning to the book.
      
      Just then, Kronos entered the room and demanded they
      lay their weapons down.
      
      Kronos' expression was filled with disappointment,
      and his tone was laced with affirmation as he spoke.
      "We never raise a blade against each other. Isn't
      that right, Methos?"
      
      "You said it," Methos replied indifferently, then
      smiled and went back to his book.
      
      "We are the Four Horsemen. No other band of men has
       ever been more cruel or more feared." Kronos held
      out his hand. "Remember that."
      
      Silas took hold of Kronos' forearm, and Caspian
      held Silas's. Methos said nothing, but rose to join
      them, finishing the square.
      
      "And Caspian, red wine is usually best," Kronos
      peered at the rat. He grinned wickedly at Silas'
      reaction. "But that depends on how you prepare it.
      Now if it's roasted, then red. Grilled or sautéed,
      and I'd have to say white wine, on the dry side,
      to counter the gaminess of the dish." He smiled
      innocently at his brothers and then walked towards
      the doorway. "Brothers, come with me. I have
      something to show you."
      
      As he left the room Silas glanced nervously at
      Methos. "Brother, what is wrong with Kronos?"
      
      Methos chuckled softly and shook his head. "Besides
      the khaki pants, polo shirt and loafers?"
      
      Caspian snorted, "Yeah."
      
      "I'm not sure..." He whispered then raised his head
      as Kronos peered around the doorframe.
      
      "That was not a request!" Kronos' eyes fixed on
      Methos.
      
      -----
      
      They entered Kronos' lab, walking past cages of
      monkeys. Kronos spoke reverently, "The weapons of
      today are different but it all comes down to the
      same thing. There are the conquerors and there are
      the conquered. There are those that have style..."
      He paused, looking Methos over. "And sadly, those
      that don't."
      
      "You want to conquer the world with monkeys?" asked
      Caspian.
      
      "Not with them..." Kronos punched a code into a
      keypad and a steel door slid open revealing a
      vault that held a single vial. "With this...
      Glorious virus! AIDS, Ebola, and now mine. It
      doesn't have a name, and it doesn't have a cure.
      That's a good thing."
      
      "Do you have a plan," Caspian asked, grinning
      devilishly.
      
      "I have a few thoughts. I have a few dollars left
      over from redecorating. And now we have Methos,
      and now we'll have a plan."
      
      The others held their breath as Methos asked,
      "What did you have in mind?"
      
      "Once we rode out of the sun, bringing death at
      the point of a sword. There was no man, and no
      immortal who could stand before us. We were
      death on horseback. They called us the end of
      the world." He chuckled and picked up the vial.
      "Well, gentleman. I want to give them what they
      fear most. The Apocalypse, and a twenty four hour
      a day network, featuring only homemade crafts."
      
      Silas did not understand Kronos' plan. Caspian
      clearly grasped it and slowly took a few steps
      back from his brother. Methos hid the shiver
      that ran down his spine. He was certain Kronos
      was beyond reason. They had done vile, unthinkable
      things in the past, but this... a 24/7 television
      network with crafts! Methos shuddered then walked
      slowly out of the room. There was little doubt
      that Kronos had taken the game to a new level of
      terror, and Methos was dumbfounded as to how to
      stop him.
      
      A short while later they all sat together,
      discussing Kronos' idea over the gourmet dinner
      he'd prepared for them. "I told you white wine would
      be best," Kronos said smugly. He glared at Methos.
      "Even though I'm satisfied with the arrangement
      of flowers you made for the centerpiece, I still
      have not heard a plan, Methos. You've gotten
      soft brother," he said from across the table while
      rising from a floral covered wing chair. "A bomb
      with the virus in a fountain. How many do you
      think that will kill?"
      
      Caspian took a bite of the soufflé and nodded his
      approval. He sipped some of the wine, then said
      mockingly to Methos, "I'm scared. Are you scared?"
      
      Methos wiped his lips with a linen napkin, then
      sat back and sighed. "It's a prelude, Caspian.
      Have you read Aristotle's Poetics? No, of course
      not, you haven't even seen Casablanca." He turned
      to Kronos, and asked, "What is the first rule of
      great drama?"
      
      "Start small, and build." Kronos said simply.
      "And this is your plan?"
      
      Methos' features revealed his amazement that his
      brother knew the answer. Again Kronos had taken
      him by surprise, he swallowed and quickly recovered.
      "Yes, first a fountain to get their attention.
      Then, a public pool, to kill a hundred. Then,
      a stadium, to kill ten thousand. Then... one
      drop of the virus in the city's water supply..."
      He gazed at Kronos and shrugged. "Within a week..."
      
      "A country. The Horsemen rule, or the world dies."
      Kronos grinned. "It's a good thing. Has a nice ring
      to it. I forgot how good you were, Methos. We begin
      tonight."
      
      Kronos had left the base to purchase some fresh herbs.
      The other Horsemen sat in the entertainment room, silently
      watching the big screen TV. CNN Headline News was running
      a special bulletin, it'd been on for the past week but none of them
      had seen it due to all their planning and Kronos' constant
      demands. The reporter was standing in front of a partially
      charred building. "No new clues have been found in the
      tragic beheading and fire at the studio..."
      
      "Turn that up!" Methos dropped his book and waved to
      Silas who had the remote. As the volume increased, the
      three watched silently.
      
      "The FBI is now involved, thus leading to the questions,
      was this a murder? And subsequently, who would want Martha
      Stewart dead? We may never know the answer."
      
      Caspian's drink crashed to the floor, the glass shattering
      everywhere. "You don't think..." He looked over at Methos,
      shock registering on his features. "He wouldn't have! Not
      her! He'd be crazy to take her head!"
      
      Silas gasped, "Horror! Horror!"
      
      Methos silently rose, he felt ill. His features whitened,
      and his breath came in small gasps. His mind was a whirlwind;
      he wanted to block what this meant from his consciousness.
      The Apocalypse suddenly didn't sound like a bad idea and he
      dismissed his original plan to warn MacLeod of the bomb
      hidden in the fountain. Perhaps, he thought, we are all
      better off if the end of the world comes. He walked out
      into the cool night air and pulled the collar of his coat
      tightly around his neck.
      
      -----
      Lyrics used in story designated with *'s
      
      The Gunfighter  ~ Blues Traveller
      
      I'm taken aback
      But still I let it ride
      *No sudden movements*
      I ease my hand real slow
      Then my hands are like lightning
      And the bullets start to fly
      I was almost in the clear too
      With just inches left to go
      
      Well if it's the fool who likes to rush in
      And if it's the angel who never does try
      And if it's me who will lose or win
      Then I'll make my best guess and I won't care why
      C'mon and get me you twist of fate
      I'm standing right here Mr. Destiny
      If you want to talk well then I'll relate
      If you don't so what cause you don't scare me
      *C'mon and get me you twist of fate
      I'm standing right here Mr. Destiny
      If you want to talk well then I'll relate
      If you don't so what cause you don't scare me*
      
      --
      Find me at:
      Isolde's Highlander Pages: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Dunes/7397/
      
      --------

      • Next message: Tim Laird-DAA Productions: "Matters of Honor and Justice 0/3"
      • Previous message: Nancy: "It's a Good Thing (1/2)"