NO PLACE TO HIDE
by
Sandpiper
Chapter 5
The Chapters
Wednesday, April 19th
7:21 pm
Frank and Joe headed for the Bayport Inn, after telling their parents they were going to meet some friends. Joe steered toward the stately building that was the inn. “It’d be somewhat true.”
Frank kept an eye out for their tail but the traffic was light and he never caught sight of the bronze sedan. They parked in front of the inn and headed upstairs to Duncan’s room. Joe had his hand up to knock when an odd metallic sound echoed from within.
Having heard that sound in their swordfight, Joe and Frank tested the door and finding it unlocked, burst into the hotel room. They stopped just inside the door, watching MacLeod and another dark-haired man crossing swords.
Frank felt a moment’s uneasiness. The way the two men were going at it, it seemed they were angry with each other, or fighting with intent to injure or kill. Duncan MacLeod stepped back and lowered himself to avoid the deadly swipe of the other man’s sword.
Duncan used his free hand to support his upper body as he shot out a leg to try to trip his opponent. “What are you trying to do, old friend?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Just keeping your wits about you, MacLeod,” said the man with a smirk. He was as tall as Duncan but somewhat leaner. His hair was cut short and he had an aristocratic bearing.
Duncan grunted and lunged straight for the man’s heart. The man sidestepped him and mimicked the lunge. Duncan dropped his left shoulder and the sword’s tip passed over his shoulder harmlessly.
“You’re getting slow, MacLeod. That will be to your detriment when the time comes.” The man spoke with a strong British accent.
“Save the lecture for later.” MacLeod spun around and wielded his sword in a wide arc. The edge of the blade caught the man on the side of his neck and the man froze, not moving an inch. MacLeod looked breathless and hot but he was grinning widely. “Say it.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “I will not,” he said archly. “It is a ridiculous sentiment anyway.”
MacLeod chuckled deep in his throat and took a step closer but he was gloating too much to notice the other man’s sword. Suddenly, the man jerked his sword and the blade sliced into Duncan’s shoulder.
Duncan flinched away from the man and cursed under his breath. He dropped his sword. “Damn it—”
“Christ, MacLeod...” The man snatched up a towel draped over the arm of the sofa and pressed it on the cut. “I’m sorry.”
Frank gasped and both men turned to see Joe and Frank. Joe moved forward, scowling at the man. “You ought to be more careful.”
“We have a first aid kit in the car. I’ll go get it.” Frank said, dashing out of the room.
Joe saw Duncan give the man an angry look. The man pretended to not see the look. “Keep pressure on it, MacLeod. Can’t have you bleeding to death,” he said in a droll tone.
Frank came back in a matter of minutes and opened the first aid kit as he walked over to Duncan. “I need to clean it and use butterfly bandages until you can get to the hospital.”
The man was still pressing on the towel, covering the wound and Duncan slapped the man’s hands away. He managed an embarrassed smile at Frank. “I’m fine. It’s not as bad as you think. M...Adam here was being rather silly.”
Adam arched a thin eyebrow. “Silly? MacLeod, surely you jest.”
Joe frowned. “You two are friends?”
“Known Duncan since he was a lad, mind you,” said Adam with a smirk. He nodded to Joe. “I’m Adam Pierson and you must be one of the Hardy brothers Duncan’s been telling me about.”
Duncan tried to move away from Frank. “I’m fine, really.”
Frank glared at him. “Keep still.” Frank removed the towel, opened an antiseptic pad and moved to tug the collar of MacLeod’s T-shirt down. MacLeod tried to move again but Frank wouldn’t let him – but what Frank saw made him forget what he was supposed to be doing. He could see the blood that had leaked along the sides of the cut in the T-shirt, he could see the blood still on the white towel – but on MacLeod’s shoulder, the skin was unbroken.
Frank stared at the spot where the wound should have been and then raised his eyes to look at Duncan. “What – how?”
Duncan shook his head and let out a huff. He scooted away from Frank and shot Adam a glare. “See what happens when you’re careless.”
“When I’m careless?” Adam sounded scandalized. “Don’t even start that, MacLeod. That was premeditated.” Seeing both Joe and Frank look at him, startled, Adam shook his head and gestured to Duncan’s shoulder. “I don’t mean that. But then, it did get your blade away from my neck,” he added, not sounding all that remorseful.
Duncan rolled his brown eyes. “Adam, that’s enough out of you. I have to wonder, why exactly did you decide to stop in and visit?”
Adam sat on the sofa and wiped down his sword. “Could ask you the same question, MacLeod. Quite a side trip on the way to Paris, I must say.”
“Same goes for you, old friend.”
Frank got to his feet and frowned at both men. “What’s going on? No one heals that damn fast.”
Duncan began to look rather uneasy. He glanced at Adam who snorted. “Don’t look at me, MacLeod, this would never have happened if you’d been paying attention.”
“Oh shut up.” Duncan took a deep breath. “I heal faster than normal – much faster than normal.”
“Why?” asked Joe.
Duncan stood up and paced for a minute. “I believe I can trust you with this. I assume if I tell you this in confidence, you won’t tell the world.”
Joe and Frank shared a surprised look and then they both nodded. Frank cleared his throat. “You have our word.”
Duncan sighed. “I am Immortal. Duncan MacLeod, of the Clan MacLeod.”
“Immortal?” Joe shook his head. “What’s that mean?”
“It means I cannot die. Unless someone takes my head.”
Frank looked stunned. “You mean, decapitation?” He flashed on what his father had mentioned at dinner and felt a chill.
Duncan nodded. “Yes.”
“Cannot die...” Joe looked him up and down. “How is that possible? How old are you? For real?”
Duncan looked embarrassed. “A little over four hundred years old.”
“What?!” Joe shot to his feet. “No way.”
Frank frowned. “You know, we don’t mind gags and jokes, but this is serious.”
“I was born in the highlands of Scotland in 1592.” MacLeod squared his shoulders. “You saw the blood but no wound.”
Joe shot Adam a look. “It could have been a trick sword. A movie prop.”
Adam smiled and looked at MacLeod. “Fancy that, they don’t believe you.”
MacLeod took a deep breath, shot Adam a glare and looked at the brothers. “The reason I know so much is that I was there.” He looked directly at Joe. “I was on the Diego Cesar Olano. I was the first mate under Valesquez.”
Joe narrowed his eyes. “You were there.”
MacLeod nodded. “I saw you. I saw the cannon ball break the mast in half. The ship was burning. Then suddenly you vanished and we found ourselves back at port. I never could understand what happened. I searched the archives in Barbados—”
Joe gave him a sharp look. “Why would you do that?”
Duncan took a deep breath. “Because back then, six months later I was in Port Royal. I met up with Anamaria herself...and the bounty hunter.”
“Bounty hunter.” Joe gave his head a puzzled shake. “I told him to go back without her, to leave Anamaria alone....”
“Sven wasn’t necessarily doing it as a bounty, except he wanted her. Especially after she....tried to kill him.”
Frank stared at Duncan. “Did you say Sven?”
“Tried to kill....” Suddenly the hazy memory sharpened and Joe’s eyes went wide. “I remember...there was blood on her shirt. She’d gone back in to get her hat but she didn’t have it with her when she left the room.”
Adam gave Frank a sharp look. “Don’t tell me you’ve met him.”
Joe barely looked at Adam. “We did. They followed us back to the salle.”
Adam’s faintly amused look faded and he looked deadly serious. “They?”
“The other guy is Sergei,” said Joe, not sure why the newcomer seemed suddenly very dangerous.
Adam muttered something that sounded like Latin and the tone made it sound like a curse. Duncan let out a soft laugh. “Friend of yours...Adam?”
“Shut up, MacLeod. He’d like to have my head for certain. Probably hang it on a pike.”
Joe looked from Duncan to Adam. “Wait...you’re...” He looked back at Duncan. “They’re...?”
Duncan just nodded, seeming to get the gist of Joe’s vague questions.
“Oh my God,” said Frank, sounding shocked. “Sven must think...Joe, he thinks you’re Immortal!”
Joe slowly slumped down on the couch, stunned and a tad creeped out. He stared down at the carpet for a moment and then looked up at Duncan. “How do you do it? Live for centuries, watch everyone you know die and pass on. God, that’s got to be the loneliest existence...”
Duncan looked away for a moment and nodded. “It is. Some of...us, lock ourselves away, avoid all ties to the here and now. Others band together, excluding everyone who’s not a fellow Immortal...”
“MacLeod...” Adam’s voice sounded rusty all of a sudden. “Don’t.”
Duncan didn’t look at him. “But I can’t live like that. Tessa...” His voice broke and he shook his head. “She knew, sometimes it upset her to know I’d never age while she did but she was happy to be by my side.”
Frank noted the past tense. “What happened?”
Duncan made a disgusted sound. “Some idiot kidnapped her to go after me. I bested him and rescued her and...and some punk kills her for her purse.” He got to his feet and walked over to the window. “For a while I did shut myself away, from everyone. I moved to Paris, found Amanda again...and in time, the pain wasn’t so bad...”
“MacLeod...” Adam no longer sounded like he was joking about anything. “We need to deal with this.”
Joe pushed himself to his feet. “No. We finish this.”
Frank nodded slowly. “All right. Simple, straightforward and easy to remember.”
Adam frowned. “You don’t know what you’re taking on. They’re lethal and they’ve had centuries’ worth of experience.”
“We’ve already fought them,” said Joe.
Duncan took a deep breath. “They were just testing you. Seeing how well you would do. The next time the gloves will be off.”
“There’s not going to be a next time, MacLeod,” snapped Adam. “You and me. We’ll take their heads.”
“That’s not how it’s done, Adam.”
“You’re going to argue traditions now?”
Joe stepped between them. “We have to do something. Stop this now.”
“And get yourselves killed for your trouble,” muttered Adam.
“So what do you suggest?” asked Joe, his voice full of sarcasm.
Duncan nodded to Frank and Joe. “I think you two should head home.”
Joe shook his head. “And lead them right to our family? I don’t think so.”
“He’s got a point.”
The four of them turned to see an older man with dark hair liberally salted with silver. He stood awkwardly, putting most of his weight on a silver cane.
Frank looked him over. “And who are you?”
“Joe Dawson. Mack....”
“I trust them.”
Dawson didn’t look too happy. “We’re the reason the world doesn’t know about Immortals, Mack....”
Adam heaved a sigh. “Too late now.”
Dawson looked over at Joe and Frank. “Mack here called me earlier. Luckily, I was in Manhattan on business.”
Adam gave a derisive snort but didn’t say anything. Dawson shot him a glare and turned back to the brothers. “This is a very dangerous situation. Is there someplace you can lie low until Mack and...Adam deal with things?”
“We’re not going anywhere.” Joe squared his shoulders. “It’s my fight.”
Dawson grunted. “Well, obviously you and Mack have a lot in common.” He looked around the room. “Might as well let them stay here then.”
Frank shook his head. “You mean stay the night? We can’t. We have school tomorrow. Mom and Dad will wonder what’s going on. Especially after—”
Duncan arched an eyebrow. “After...?”
“Dad was called in on a decapitation case because he dealt with one some time ago.”
Duncan rolled his shoulders. “Of course. I can see the resemblance now. Your father is Fenton Hardy, right?”
“How do you know that?”
“I helped him on that case.”
“You—” Joe looked stunned. “You’re kidding.”
Duncan shook his head and smiled at Frank. “You look just like your father, you know, now that I know the connection.”
Adam unrolled the sleeves of his shirt and buttoned them, and then picked up a blazer off the back of the couch. “We’ll follow you back to your house, keep watch. The less anyone else knows the better.”
Joe frowned. “What good would that do?”
“Immortals can sense fellow Immortals,” answered Mack. “Good idea, Adam.”
Dawson looked like a very worried parent. “Be careful, Mack. Sven Jenssen is ruthless.”
Adam arched an eyebrow at Dawson. “What, no concern for me?”
“As old as you are, I figure you can take care of yourself.”
Adam let out a huff. “Well, thank you very much.”
Joe turned to look at him. “Just how old are you?”
“You don’t want to know.”
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.