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Bubble Gum Crisis is copyrighted Artmic Inc. and Youmex, Inc. 
Highlander, the specific concepts of Immortality, the characters 
of Duncan MacLeod, Amanda, Joe Dawson, and the Hunters are the 
property of Rysher Entertainment. I am just borrowing the characters 
for a little while, and promise not to bend, fold, or staple them 
- unless I can come up with a good reason to do so. I can be 
contacted at the Email address above. C&C will be accepted, out 
and out flames will result in a Boomer or two being sent
after you.

Please, enjoy my take on the Bubble Gum Crisis universe.....

NOTE: I've been rather busy the last three weeks, leaving little time to read
through my Email. The result being that I did something I never did before -
fill up my mailbox to the point where Emails started to bounce. I guess that's
why I haqven't receive anything from the list in the last couple of days. I've
got my mailbox under control again, and will try to stay ahead of the avalance
this time.......
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Chapter 2

District 2
MegaTokyo, Japan
April 10, 2036
2:23am

     This area of District 2 was a wasteland, nothing more then a
blank spot on most maps. The locals called it the `Badlands', and
avoided it always. A few gangs claimed it as their turf, but none
of them really pushed the issue. In short, it was the perfect
place to dump a body.

     A dark colored car moved down one of the few dirt roads that
crisscrossed the area, sending dirt spraying out into the night
air. Its headlights caught flashes of junked cars, and other
refuse that had accumulated over the years. The sound of its
engine was swallowed up in the stillness of the night.

     It slowed to a stop near a burnt out van. Three men got out,
and carefully scanned the area. After several seconds, one of the
men leaned inside and spoke to someone still in the car. A fourth
man stepped out, holding a young woman by the arm.

     The woman was scared. She tried to pull away from the man
that held her, but the man yanked her towards him. He gripped her
jaw in his other hand. "There's no escape from you fate, dear
Natalia," he cooed. "You're going to die. Accept that."

     "But why, Mr. Tarson?" the women whimpered. "I told you, I
won't tell anyone what I overheard."

     "I can't take that chance," replied Tarson, his voice sweet
and sickly. "You might tell Mr. Faust, and I can not allow that."

     "But why would I tell Mr. Faust? I've never even spoken to
him!"

     "Poor Natalia." Tarson shook his head. "You made a mistake
by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You overheard
everything." 

     "But I don't understand -"

     Tarson gripped Natalia's jaw tighter. "But Faust would. All
it would take one slip of the tongue in his presence, and he
would suspect my plans. I can't allow that."

     Tarson shoved the woman away. She fell heavily into the
dirt, knocking the breath from her body. In the defused light 
from the car's headlights, she looked desperately at Tarson. 

     He was threading a silencer onto a semiautomatic pistol. "I
sorry it's come to this, Natalia. You were an excellent
assistant, and I'm sorry to loose you this way." 

     "Please, sir I...."

     Tarson pointed the pistol at her, and fired two rounds into
her chest. She cried out in pain as the bullets hit her, and she
fell down. The white blouse she wore rapidly turned red. Tarson
stared at her for several seconds, then shot her twice more. She
shuddered as the bullets hit her, then she went limp, her eyes
open and unseeing. 

     Tarson looked at her body for several more seconds, then
motioned to the other to get back into the car. After they left,
silence returned to the Badlands again.

          **********          **********          **********

Flight 2445
Over the Pacific Ocean
Three Hours from MegaTokyo
April 10, 2036
2:43am

     "Mr. Macleod?"

     Duncan stirred under the gentle touch of the stewardess, and
he opened an eye to look up at her. "Yes?" he asked quietly.

     "There's a vidphone call for you, sir. A Mr. Dawson. He
insisted it was very important."

     Duncan opened both eyes and wiped the sleep from his eyes.
He nodded to the stewardess. "Thank you, just give me a minute to
wake up."

     "Very good, Sir. It's Vidphone station number two, all the
way back, and on the right."

     It was then that Duncan became aware of Amanda's head on his
shoulder. He looked down at her. She'd returned to the platinum
blonde look she'd given up about thirty years ago. She looked
like an innocent angel sleeping there, but that image was as
false as her hair color.

     He moved slowly, easing out of his seat. Amanda opened her
eyes slowly. "Watsmatter?" she asked sleepily.

     "A call of nature," he assured her. "Be back in a couple of
minutes."

     Amanda closed her eyes again and went back to sleep. Duncan
nodded to the Stewardess again, and walked slowly back to the
Vidphone station. He sat down on the small seat in the booth, and
closed the door. The screen was flashing INCOMING CALL. He pushed
a button, and the image of Joe Dawson appeared.

     He looked old and tired, and Duncan winced at the sight of
his old friend. "Joe!" he said cheerfully. "To what do I owe the
honor of your call?"

     "Do you have a scrambler handy?" asked Joe quietly.

     "Right here." Duncan pulled a small module from his coat
pocket. "What's wrong?"

     "Plug it in, and set the scrambler for your birth year."

     Duncan did so, inserting the module into the space reserved
for such a device. A red light lit up, indicating that the module
was receiving power. He punched in the four digit code, and
waited for three seconds for the scramblers to synchronize with
each other. 

     When the red light changed to green, Ducan spoke. "OK Joe,
what's going on? These in-flight calls are expensive."

     "Tell me about it. But believe me, this is important. The
Hunters have surfaced again."
 
     "Damm." Duncan looked at Joe closely. "This isn't a sick
joke, is it?"

     Joe shook his head. "An old friend of mine call me several
hours ago with the news that someone attacked Master Chang's
monastery, in Northern Korea. They killed everyone, including the
Immortals training there. I made some calls to other friends in
the know I can trust, and they confirmed my old friend's story."

     "How does your old friend know it's the Hunters?"

     "Because whoever attacked the monastery used Boomers in the
attack, along with mortals with machine guns. Also, all the
Immortals were beheaded inside the temple."

     "It certainly sounds like Hunters. Thanks for the warning."

     Joe held up a hand. "Wait, Duncan. There's more. My friend
also told me that one of the Immortals was away when the
monastery was attacked. He's currently in MegaTokyo, trying to
track down the people behind the attack."

     "Who is it?"

     "Jason Storm."

     Ducan's mind drifted back, back to a time over a hundred
years ago, and half a world away....

FRANCE 1917

     The village consisted of half a dozen destroyed buildings,
and a church that had seen better days. The ground around the
village was a sea of mud and shellholes, and the few trees still
standing were nothing more than shattered remnates of their
previous splendor. The sky was overcast, and rain was softly
falling.

      The Hospital unit Duncan was attached to had set up in the
village two hours before. The latest French offensive had
resulted in a flood of casualties, and the doctors were rapidly
being overwhelmed. The dull boom of distant artillery clashed
with the sounds of horses, men in pain, and trucks trying to
traverse the narrow lanes around the village.

     Duncan was assisting a wounded solider to the dressing
station when he felt the presence of another Immortal. Stopping
for a second to get a firmer grip on his charge, he looked around
surreptitiously, trying to locate the other Immortal.

     He quickly narrowed the field of possibilities down to one
man. Twenty feet away, a solider was shouting at one of the
doctors. The sounds of the battlefield made the man's words
somewhat difficult to understand, but Duncan heard enough to know
the man was angry. He was slightly shorter then Duncan, with
broad shoulders and thick waisted. His unshaven face had the
harshness of someone who spend most of their time outdoors, and
his eyes were a clean deep green in color.

     He wore the uniform of a French infantryman, but the man's
accented French meant he wasn't a native of the country. From the
body armor the man wore, Duncan guessed the angry soldier was a
trench raider - men who infiltrated the enemy's trenches to
gather intelligence on the enemy. It was a dangerous job, with
few rewards.

     Duncan called out to a nearby orderly. "LeBren! Could you
take him into the dressing station?"

     LeBren was a tall thin man with a permanent scowl on his
face. "What is it?" he hissed.

     Duncan motioned to the two arguring men with his head.
LeBren glanced over in that direction, saw the developing
situation, and nodded. He strode over to relieved Duncan of the
wounded soldier. As he draped the wounded soldier's arm over his
shoulder, LeBren said in a low voice, "Be careful, Duncan. Men
like him are crazy."

     Duncan nodded and walked slowly over to the two men. As he
got closer, he heard the solider shout, "...the supplies, and
I'll take care of them myself!"

     "You?" snorted the doctor. He was short, thin, balding, with
a florid mustache. "Are you a doctor?"

     "More of a doctor then you!" shouted the soldier.

     "Is there a problem here, sir?" asked Duncan.

     The doctor turned to look at Duncan. "Macleod?" He motioned
to the soldier. "This idiot is demanding that I drop everything
to look at his men."

     "I have four men that need medical assistance, and need it
now!" growled the soldier.

     "And I have three hundred men that were here before you!"
shouted the doctor. "They will have to wait their turn!"

     "Then, give me the medical supplies, and I will take care of
them until you can see them!"

     "Doctor Debeney," said Duncan. "Let me take a look at his
men."

     Debeney nodded. "Very well, Macleod. Is that satisfactory,
sergeant?"

     "For now," hissed the soldier. He turned to Duncan. "I have
them resting in the church. If you will follow me."

     The two men walked towards the church. When there was no one
near them, the soldier said in English, "My name is Jason Storm."

     "Duncan Macleod."

     Jason's eyes widen. "Not the Duncan Macleod?"

     "Why, is there more then one running around?"

     Jason chuckled. "No, but Master Chang spoke highly of you."

     "Master Lee Chang? You're a student of his?"

     "For nearly forty years."

     "And how is he?"

     "He is well."

     "Why are you here, in this disaster?"

     "Master Chang heard about the War, and he sent me west to
find out what was the latest in weapons and tactics."

     They reached the steps leading up into the church. Storm
stopped and placed a hand on Duncan's arm. "The men in there are
my friends, and comrades in war. We have fought together for the
last two years. I will do whatever I have to to save their
lives."

     "I understand."

     Storm nodded. "I believe you, Duncan, I believe you...."

PRESENT

     The memory faded, and Duncan frowned. "I know him. He won't
stop until all the Hunters are dead, or he is."

     "That's what I gathered from my old friend. I thought you
should know, since you're heading that way."

     Duncan took a deep breath. "Thanks for the warning, Joe.
Amanda and I will be careful."

     "I hope so." Joe glanced off screen. "I'd better wrap this
up in a hurry. I'll try pumping my contacts more, and see if I
can get anything else of use out of them. I can still get you at
the MegaTokyo Grand?"

     Duncan nodded. "I don't want to alter my plans unless I have
to."

     "All right, later then." Joe gave Duncan a weak smile.
"Don't loose your head in the meantime, OK?"

     "Count on it."

     Joe broke the connection, leaving Duncan deep in thought. He
retrieved the scrambler, left the booth and returned to his seat.
Amanda opened her eyes slightly and watched him settled back into
his seat. She saw the thoughtful look on his face. She leaned
over and whispered in his ear, "What's wrong?"

     "Later," he murmured back. "Our vacation may have a element
of work involved."

     "Damm. That was some call of nature." She laid her head on
his shoulder again, and drifted back into sleep. He looked down
and smiled as the innocent angel look appeared on her face again.
He settled back and closed his eyes. There was no telling when he
would get another chance to rest so completely.