James Horton sat at his desk, in his hand was a glass of scotch. The room, his den, was decorated in wood and leather. Warmth emanated from the fireplace and echoed in the gold and burgundy fixtures. It was a room reminiscent of the luxuriously decorated libraries of Victorian England where gentlemen would gather after dinner to escape their wives, smoke cigars, and talk business. " A glorious past, molded by men." Horton thought, " mortal men." He was comfortable in this room. He, however, was a stark contrast to the warmth and gentility of it. Relaxed in his leather chair he wore a black suit and pure white shirt, which caused his naturally pale appearance to become even more so. His piercing, light blue eyes seemed incapable of peering casually. Thus he stared at his glass of Glenlivet, daring it to intoxicate him. He raised his eyes to study the room from the past. It gave him hope for the future. A future without Immortals, created by men like him. Men with courage and cunning.
The door opened and Robert Tucker entered.
" Come in, Robert, sit down." Horton said. Although it was said pleasantly, Robert recognized it as the command it was. He did, taking the seat across the antique desk from Horton.
" You said you wanted to talk to me . . . ? Robert started cautiously. He found James Horton quite intimidating, and not only because he was engaged to his daughter. Perhaps it was his ice-blue eyes that froze Robert even as his voice dripped honey. Or maybe it was the way he could dispassionately speak of beheadings and sound as though he were asking you the time of day. Either way, Robert was less then at ease. James Horton was so very different than Joe Dawson, Robert's mentor and Horton's brother in law. Joe was music and camaraderie. When he spoke of Immortals it was with reverence and wonder for the history that they represented. Although Robert had never heard him say anything directly, he often thought he could hear disgust color Horton's voice when he spoke about Immortals. He wondered why Horton continued to be a Watcher when he hated those he watched. Robert was about to find out.
" Do you love my daughter? Horton asked, still staring at his glass.
"Yes, of course I do."
" Will you protect as I have?"
" I, uh, yeah . . . yes!" Robert stuttered, confused. Already he didn't like the way this meeting was going.
" How?" Horton asked, standing as he looked at Robert for the first time since had entered the room. The younger Watcher felt the sting of his elder's eyes on him and saw that the ice-cold orbs burned with a righteous fire. " You can provide for her and protect her from poverty. You can try to protect her from the cruelties of our world, but how can you protect her from an evil the lives forever? Do you plan to stand around and hope that you never cross it's path?" Horton didn't raise his voice, but it's hate filled the room, crushing Robert.
" What are you . . . are you talking about . . . Immortals?"
" You are a researcher. You've read about the horror created by the Kurgan. How many mortal lives were sacrificed for the glory of the warrior Darius as he fought his way across Europe? Darius the conqueror who now masquerades as a holy man. You have read the chronicles, my chronicles, of Kage's savage betrayal for profit, but you've never seen it. I have. And these are the abominations that believe themselves to be better than us." Horton finished.
" But how can you say this? You've been a watcher for what? Twenty years? How could you have watched them for so long them for so long if you hate them so much?"
" But that's exactly why I watch." Horton exclaimed as he moved from behind his desk, toward Robert. " I watch them because I know the truth about them. How better to protect the world from Immortals than to be part of the organization that records their lives, their every move?"
" And that's all you do? Track them?"
"Of course, Robert. You can't believe that I would use the Watchers to hunt them, do you?" he asked as he stopped to stand behind Robert's chair, resting his hands on it above his shoulders.
" But how does watching protect Linda?" Robert asked slowly. Horton's position behind him made him nervous for some reason he didn't want to understand. It was silly, really, that he should fear his future father-in-law so much. But fear him he did.
" By staying ahead of them, my boy. They can't harm what they can't catch. And should an Immortal be too cunning, too dangerous, too evil . . . well, sometimes exceptions must be made. A man must do what he must to protect his family."
" What is it you want from me then? I can't be part of killing Immortals. I took the oath. Joe would -"
" All I need from you is a little help with surveillance. I'd never ask you to kill for me." Horton said with a smile in his voice.
" So you want me to help you . . . keep track of them?" Robert asked haltingly.
" Yes, for Linda's sake." Horton had come around to his right side and was looking down at him. " Robert, have you ever heard of an Immortal named Blake Wellington?"
" Um, wasn't he you're an assignment of yours? Right after the Kurgan?"
" Yes, he was. My last one, in fact. He was a viscous animal, even for an Immortal. One night I followed him to an amusement park where I watched as he carelessly murdered countless people, mortals who had nothing to do with their accursed game. With apparent joy, he . . . destroyed families! I watched! I can't, I won't, do it again." Horton paused a moment as his mind returned form the memory of that night. " Wellington is in town, came in this morning. I need you to watch him for me. If there is any sign of trouble, call me immediately."
" But, sir, I'm a researcher. You want a field agent." Robert exclaimed, trying vainly once more to talk both Horton and himself out of this.
Horton picked up the folder that lay on his desk.
" You've had the same training as the field agents. And I trust you to do this job for me. For Linda." He stressed as he placed Wellington's file on Robert's lap.
" For Linda." Robert echoed softly and stood. He walked slowly towards the door, his mind racing with thoughts of the things Horton had said.
" And Robert . . ." The young Watcher turned o look at the man who was his senior in so many ways.
" Let's keep this little meeting between the two of us, shall we? I trust you'll tell no one, especially Joseph. I don't believe he'll understand as you do." Robert heard the threat behind the politely phrased words and nodded. He left the room, clutching the folder. Walking around his cherrywood desk, Horton once again sat down in his leather chair. He picked up a picture that was lying on the desk. The surveillance photo of Blake Wellington had been blown up to an 8 by 10 glossy. As he studied the Immortal he already knew too well, a thought ran through his mind and escaped his lips. " There's a fox among the chickens." He let the photo fall back to the desk. He caught his reflection in the mirror created by the tilted picture. A pale visage with ice-blue eyes stared back at him. " And a killer in the hounds." He finished as the devil's grin crossed the face in the reflection.
FINIS
Back in the Village...by Iron Maiden.
Turn the spotlights on the people
Switch the dial and eat the worm
Take your chances, kill the engine
Drop your bombs and let it burn.
White flags shot to ribbons
The truce is black and white
Shellshock in the kitchen
Tables overturned.
Chorus:
Back in the village again
In the village
I'm back, back in the village again.
Throwin dice now, rolling loaded
I see sixes all the way
In a black hole and I'm spinning
As my wings get shot away.
No breaks on the inside
Paper cats and burning barns
There's a fox among the chickens
And a killer in the hounds
Questions are a burden
And answers are a prison for oneself
Shellshock in the kitchen
Tables start to burn
Chorus
But still we walk into the valley
And others try to kill the inner flame
We're burning brighter than before
I don't have a number, I'M A NAME!
Back in the village again
In the village
I'm back in the village again
Back in the village again
In the village
I'm back in the village
Back in the village
Back in the village again
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