We have a new member.  Everyone....say hello to Sidney Vincent who joined our forum on the 4th of this month.

Lt. Larry Evans' feet are propped up on his desk and he is leaning back as far as his chair will allow.  While he holds his cell phone to his ear with one hand, his other hand taps a pencil against the arm of his chair.

 
[Evans] Yeah?....right....

 
Evans quickly takes his feet off of his desk and sits up.  He picks up a small notebook from the top of his desk and starts scribbling in it.

 
Two detectives walk into the Lieutenant's office and approach his desk.

 
[Evans] Right....OK....got it.  Thanks.  I owe you one.

 
Evans says and shuts off his cell phone, shoving it into his pants pocket.

 
Det. Brian Porter pulls out his notepad and flips it open.

 
Det. Wayne Stone picks up a remote control laying on the top of Evans' In Box and points it at a large screen monitor on the wall.

 
[Porter] We basically have come up with nothing on Nicayla Flynn.

 
Porter says as a picture of Nikki's Washington Drivers License appears on the monitor.

 
Evans stands up and takes a few steps closer to the monitor and looks at the picture on the drivers license.

 
Stone points the remote towards the monitor.

 
[Stone] She has no criminal record.  The only police contact she has had since she moved here....

 
[Porter] ...besides attending both the Policeman's and Fireman's Balls four years in a row...

 
Porter interjects and the monitor's image changes to Nikki's DMV record.

 
[Stone] ...are three moving violations for speeding and one parking ticket that she failed to pay on time...

 
[Porter] But she took care of it.  Better late than never.

 
Porter interrupts with a chuckle.

 
Evans glances back at Porter and quirks an eyebrow.

 
[Porter] Shutting up, Boss.

 
Porter says, sheepishly, and lowers his eyes.

 
[Stone] Other than that there are no records...medical or dental.

 
[Porter] We ran her financials.

 
Porter says as the image on the monitor displays Nikki's bank statement on one side of the screen and a copy of her tax statements for the last two years on the other side of the screen.

 
[Stone] For the most part, she had been living off of the modest income the horse breeding, boarding and training business she runs at her ranch.

 
[Evans] I thought the ranch was a home for kids?

 
Evans says looking at the images on the monitor.

 
[Porter] Flynn bought the old ranch when she first moved to Seacouver.

 
[Stone] Not only old but failing ranch.

 
Stone interjects as he aims the remote at the screen and the image changes to a copy of the deed to the Nua Tosu Ranch.

 
[Porter] It took her a year to get it operating in the black.  Then she began working on getting permits to open up a portion of the ranch as a home for unadoptable kids.

 
Porter says, almost admiringly.

 
[Stone] But she only uses State, local and Federal grant money.....

 
[Porter] ...and funds from private contributors...

 
Porter interjects.

 
[Stone] ...to support the part of the ranch that houses, feeds and councils the kids.  There is no sign of any improprieties on her part. 

 
[Porter] She, herself, contributes to some of Seacouver's larger charities.

 
Stone changes the image on the monitor to a copy of Nikki's charitable donations.

 
[Stone] Like the museum, the University Historical Restoration Society and the Council for the Performing Arts.

 
[Porter] She has several influential friends including a Superior Court Judge.

 
[Evans] What about before moving into Seacouver?  How did she purchase a 640 acre ranch?

 
Evans asks looking first at Porter than at Stone.

 
[Porter] There is record of her having owned a working horse ranch in Arizona in 1995 but there is no record of it having been bought, sold or traded and there is no current deed for the property on record.

 
Porter says with a shrug.

 
[Stone] It's like it simply vanished.

 
[Evans] Where did she live prior to moving here?

 
Evans asks, looking at the faces of his two best detectives.

 
Stone points the remote at the monitor and a copy of Nikki's tax statements for 1998 and 1999 appear on the screen.

 
[Porter] For the two years prior to her moving to Seacouver, Flynn filed 10-99 forms each quarter and listed her source of income as tending bar at a friend of hers club in San Francisco called the Sanctuary. Then she came here.

 
Porter says, reading off of his notes in his notebook.

 
[Stone] And the only ties we could find between her and the Colson kid is the ranch.

 
[Porter] We've talked to the foreman at the ranch, Richard Williams....

 
Porter says as the image on the monitor switches to one of Richard.

 
[Porter] ...and, according to him, her disappearance is extremely out of character for her and he is more than a little worried that something has happened to her.

 
Porter says in conclusion.

 
[Stone] Same thing everyone we have interviewed that has known Flynn for any length of time.  There are three friends of hers that we have not been able to get a hold of.  One is the person her Administrative Assistant says she refers to as her best friend and...coincidentally...

 
Stone changes the image on the monitor to a photo of Amanda.

 
[Stone] ...is the owner of the club she tended bar for in San Francisco..Amanda Darieux.

 
Evans looks at the image on the screen and thinks to himself, “wow!”

 
[Evans] Look into her.

 
Evans says simply.

 
[Porter] As we speak, Boss.

 
Porter says with a nod.

 
[Stone] ...her Superior Court Judge friend, Judge A. Everson....

 
Stone changes the image on the screen to a photo of Ally.

 
[Stone] ...and the man in the press photo....

 
[Porter] ...who we have not identified yet.

 
Porter interjects quickly as the image on the screen changes to a copy of the press photo with Methos and Nikki together at a charity event.

 
[Evans] Well your unidentified person is one Adam Pierson.

 
Evans says, glancing down at the notes he had taken during his telephone conversation.

 
Stone hurries around the Lieutenant's desk to his computer and keys in a couple of commands and a Washington Drivers License appears with a picture of Methos on it.

 
[Evans] According to my source he is a Historian of some sort for the University...or so he thinks.  Get on that Porter.

 
[Porter] On it, Boss.

 
Porter says and makes a mock salute.

 
Stone taps in a few commands on Evans' computer.

 
[Stone] I've got his credit card statements for the last 6 months and he seems to spend a lot at a place called Joe's Bar on East Oregon Street.

 
Stone announces as the image on the screen switches back to Nikki's drivers license.

 
[Evans] Check it out, Stone.

 
Evans commands.

 
[Stone] Yes, Boss.

 
Stone says and both he and Porter turn and hurry out of the Lieutenant's office.

 
[Evans] Somebody has to know something about something.

 
Evans says to himself and he stares thoughtfully at the image on the monitor and rubs his chin.  He hates dead ends!

 
[Stone] Trade ya.

 
Stone says to Porter when they are out of earshot of the Lieutenant.

 
[Porter] Not a chance.  Did you see her?  She is waaay out of your league, Rookie.

 
[Stone] Figures.

 
Stone says shaking his head as he heads for his desk where he takes his holstered gun out of his desk drawer, grabs his jacket that is neatly hung on the back of his chair and heads for the elevator.

 
Porter smiles and heads for his desk and his computer.

 

 

 

It was a gorgeous day.  The sky was a pristine blue, Robin's meadow was carpeted in the bright colors of wildflowers, the wild grass was a Kelly green, the surrounding mountains looked like they were covered in dark green velvet and only a few peaks were still tipped with snow.  The air was comfortably warm and a cool breeze would rustle through the tall pines of the surrounding forest.  The only sounds were the babbling stream that ran through the middle of the meadow, the occasional cry of a Bald Eagle soaring in the sly overhead and the thump of Robin's saw as she trimmed some logs to repair the fence that surrounded the small grazing paddock that was shared by Robin's only milk cow and Obsidian's Fire.

 
Robin stood with one foot on the ground and the other braced against the long log she was sawing and held the end of her saw in both hands.  She was dressed in a pair of blue jeans and an underwear shirt that the sleeves had been cut off of and the neckline cut down so that it had narrow straps at the shoulders instead of sleeves and her tanned skin glistened with perspiration as she worked the saw back and forth through the log.  Her long red hair was tied back in a pony tail and a bandana was rolled up and tied around her head to keep sweat from dripping into her eyes as she worked.  When the saw's blade cleared the log, she straightened up...stretching the muscles in her back and picked up her canteen and, greedily, drank almost all of its contents of cool spring water then she poured the rest of the water in the canteen over her head to cool herself off.  She bent over to tie two ends of a rope around the end of the log she had just shortened so she could use the rope to pull the log over to the place in the paddock fence that needed to be repaired.  As she stepped into the “loop” of the rope, positioned it around the front of her waist and took a couple of steps forward the sound of an approaching horse echoed into the meadow.  Robin turned to see who was coming and saw a single rider come galloping into the meadow.

 
“Sheriff!” the rider called as he jumped his horse over the stream instead of using the bridge that was just wide enough that a buckboard wagon could make it across the bridge with a few inches on each side to spare.  “They need you in town,” he called as he reined his horse to a stop so sudden that the horse's front hooves actually slid a few inches in the loose dirt.

 
As soon as the rider had cleared the stream, he was close enough for Robin to recognize him as Deputy Lewis's teenaged brother.  “What's wrong, Tommy?”  she asked as she dropped the rope and stepped out of it, looking up at the boy.

 
“Someone tried to rob the bank and they have him pinned down in it,” Tommy said, his horse picking up on his anxiety and prancing around in a circle as its young rider tried to keep it under control.  “My brother told me to come get you.”

 
“Who's “they?”  Robin asked as she grabbed the deerskin shirt that was hanging over the hitching post in front of her cabin and slipped it on.  Then she grabbed her holster that was also hanging over the railing and strapped it around her waist.

 
“My brother, Mr. Wells, Mr. Evans, Mr. Franklin and some stranger that just happened to come into town when all hell broke loose and he offered to help,” Tommy answered.

 
Robin quickly removed her headband and grabbed her hat, putting it on and untying Sid from the hitching post.  “Is anyone hurt?” she asked as she climbed into the saddle and reined Sid in the direction that Tommy had come.

 
“There were shots fired inside the bank but the robber hasn't let anyone come out so I don't know if Mr. Payne is hurt or not,” Tommy answered.

 
Robin nudged her horse with the heels of her boots and Sid took off at a full gallop with Tommy close behind.

 
The sound of the gun battle could be heard even before Robin entered the city limits.  The bank was on the West side of the street directly across from the General Store so Robin rode down the narrow roadway that ran behind the buildings on the East side of the town's main street (used for store deliveries, etc.) and tied Sid behind the General Store.  She grabbed her rifle and ran down the alley between the General Store and the Barber Shop.  As she approached the end of the alley she felt the buzz of another Immortal and frowned but a bullet zipping by her and embedding itself in the wood siding of the building to her right, sending splinters of wood flying made wondering about who the Immortal was unimportant at the moment.  She dove for cover behind one of the watering troughs in front of the store.  She turned over so that the back of her shoulders were against the trough and looked around her.

 
Wells and Evans were kneeling behind one of the other troughs in front of the store, taking turns raising up long enough to fire a couple of shots from their rifles in the direction of the bank.  Harry stood behind the wooden Indian statue in front of the Barber Shop, trying to make himself smaller so that he could actually hide there but Robin couldn't see her deputy anywhere.  She looked over at back of the man next to her behind the trough just as he turned over and looked at her.  A bullet hit the water in the trough, splashing both Robin and....

 
“MacLeod?” Robin said, looking at the Immortal who she had helped out eight months ago while hunting Duane Mattox.

 
MacLeod flashed one of his award winning smiles and tapped the brim of his hat in a mock salute.  “Madam Sheriff,” he said, ducking as another bullet dug into the Porch post next to him, causing splinters of wood to shower down on him.

 
Robin quickly turned over and raised up, leveling off her rifle over the top of the trough and firing two shots at the front window of the bank.  Then she ducked back down behind the trough and cocked her rifle so that it would be ready for the next volley.

 
“Did you bring all of this with you?”  Robin asked, looking at MacLeod and quirking an eyebrow, questioningly.

 
“No.  I sort of happened along just as it was starting,” MacLeod answered and reached around the end of the trough and fired at the front of the bank.  “They looked like they could use the help,” he added as he turned back around and reloaded his rifle.

 
“Have you seen my deputy?”  Robin asked, ducking as a bullet shattered the glass of the General Store's front window showering the boardwalk and them with glass.

 
MacLeod pointed to the body Robin now saw lying on the ground on the other side of a buckboard wagon that setting in front of the Barber Shop.  “Right after he sent for you, he tried to talk who ever's inside the bank into coming out peacefully and ended up taking one in the throat,” he explained.

 
“Damn!”  Robin exclaimed and winced as she thought of poor Tommy.  His brother was the only family he had, as their father, a US Calvary officer, was killed at Wounded Knee and their mother had died four of years ago from Diphtheria  Robert Lewis had taken on the responsibility of raising Tommy who was just barely fourteen years old.  A bullet zipped into the dirt next to her and brought her back to the present situation.  “How many are there in the bank?”  She asked, taking off her hat and trying to peak over the top of the trough.

 
“As far as I can tell...just one,” MacLeod said.  “But he must have an arsenal in there with him because he has been able to keep us at bay with very few and short reload breaks.”

 
“Has he said anything?”  Robin asked as another bullet splashed trough water in her face and she ducked back down.

 
“He said he was coming out once and we thought he was going to step out with a hostage but he must have changed his mind because he just started shooting at us again,” MacLeod explained.

 
“Do we know what the status of the bank owner is?”  Robin said looking down the street at the clock tower that would, someday, sit in front of a city hall/courthouse.  It was mid morning so Mr. Payne would have been in the bank alone.  His assistant/clerk didn't come in until just before lunch time.

 
“Haven't heard one way or the other,” MacLeod answered.

 
Robin rolled onto her side so she could peer around the end of the trough.  She cleared her throat and took a deep breath.  “You in the bank!”  She called out.  “This is Sheriff Scott.”  She looked over at Harry and, in a loud whisper, said, “cover the back side of the bank.” She knew that there wasn't an actual back door to the bank but Payne's office was at the back of the building and it had a window that, although small, could be used as an escape route...unless the man that was going to climb through it was a big man.  As Harry ducked into the alley between the store and the Barber Shop and headed for the backside of the buildings on the West side of the street, Robin called out, “you might as well face the fact that you're not going to leave this town.  Even if you walk out of there empty handed....you killed my deputy and I will see that you hang for that.  So you can either give yourself up or make a break for it and give me the opportunity to shoot you down.  Either way....you are no longer a free man.”

 
The man in the bank fired two shots in Robin's direction, forcing her to duck further behind the watering trough as his response.

 
“I want to talk to the bank owner, Mr. Payne,” Robin called out.

 
“I'm sorry.  Mr. Payne is incommunicado at the moment,” came the answer from inside the bank.

 
“If he's injured, let him come out so our doctor can tend to him,” Robin called out.

 
“He's not exactly injured,” the man in the bank called back.

 
“Is he alive?” Robin called out.

 
“I don't know.  I ain't no doctor,” the man in the bank responded.  “But I didn't do nothin' to him.  He just keeled over when I told him to open the safe and fill my bag.”

 
“****!”  Robin swore.  “Payne has a bad ticker.  He probably had a heart attack,” she said, more to herself than to MacLeod.
Roger raised up and fired two shots at the bank.  Robin didn't know if the store owner was actually trying to hit the robber or if he was just firing for effect because after he fired the first shot the robber retaliated in kind and Roger was ducking as he fired the second shot which went God knows where.

 
“What's it going to be?”  Robin called out.  She expected a round of bullets to answer her question but she was met with silence.  “Hello in the bank.  What's your answer?”  Then she heard breaking glass in the distance and a round of rifle fire coming from behind the bank and she knew that the robber had attempted to escape through Payne's office window and had met with Harry.  She hoped that Harry had not only foiled the robber's escape attempt but that he had, at least, wounded the guy.  Her answer came when several bullets hit the hitching post, water trough and the ground nearby.  She leaned over MacLeod and in a loud whisper, said, “Roger....do you still have that bow and quiver for sale in your store?”

 
The store owner looked around the Mayor at Robin and nodded.  “You want me to get it for you?”  He asked.

 
Robin shook her head.  “I'll get it.  Cover me,” she said to Wells, Evans and MacLeod and as they fired a round of bullets at the bank, she dove across the boardwalk into the General Store and low crawled out of the doorway where she wouldn't be visible.

 
“Is there anything I can do, Sheriff?”  Mrs. Wells asked from behind the counter where she was crouching.

 
“Yeah,” Robin said as she moved more towards the back of the store where she was sure she would be out of the robber's view and surveyed the walls where she had seen the bow and quiver of arrows a few days before when she was in the store.  “I need a rag soaked in kerosene and some flexible wire,” she said, locating what she was looking for and rushing over to grab it off of the wall.

 
The store owner's wife got what Robin had requested and held the kerosene soaked rag out to her from the safety provided by a 5' high stack of large bags of seed grain.

 
“Thanks, Mirna,” Robin said as she held out the tip of one of the arrows from the quiver she had removed from its display spot on the back wall and said, “hold this, please.”  When the arrow was in Mirna's hand, Robin wrapped the rag around the end of the arrow and used the flexible wire, Mirna had found to tightly secure the rag.  “Thanks,” Robin said with a small smile of gratitude.  “Now get into the back room and stay there....no matter what you hear or think you hear,” she instructed.  She crouched down and carried the bow and the arrow back out to her spot behind the water trough.  “Something tells me that you are probably a better shot with one of these than I am,” Robin said to MacLeod who looked at her and lifted an eyebrow, curiously.

 
Duncan took the bow and arrow from Robin and tested the spring of the bow.  “It's been a while,” he said, skeptically.  “But I'll give it a try.  What's the target?”

 
“See the gabled window at the peak of the roof?”  Robin said and when MacLeod nodded she continued.  “It looks like an upstairs window but the bank is only one story.  It's more just for decoration than anything.  If you can put the arrow through that window it should travel far enough toward the back of the bank and....with any luck....land somewhere behind the counter where there is more paper to catch fire.”  Then she added, “or at the very least it will get caught in the rafters and catch them on fire.”  She was thankful that Payne had recently upgraded the large safe where everyone's money was kept to one that was fireproof.  She leaned over MacLeod and said to Wells and Evans, “give us some cover fire.”  Then she lay back with the back of her shoulders against the trough.  “Give me your pistol, MacLeod,” she said, laying her rifle down on the ground between her and MacLeod.  When Duncan handed his Colt revolver to her, Robin checked the cylinder, which was full.  She unholstered her own pistol and spun the full cylinder for luck.  She took off her hat and laid it on the ground...took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she turned over and rolled over to a three large barrels that had been stacked at the bottom of the boardwalk steps and squatted behind them.  Shots rang out from the bank....a few bullets digging into the ground nearby.

 
“I'm going to give you one more chance,” Robin called out to the robber in the bank.  “Toss your weapons out the door and come out with your hands up and let's end this peacefully.”

 
“Go **** yourself!” the man in the bank yelled back and fired a couple of rounds of his shotgun for effect.

 
“Now that was just plain rude,” Robin said, more to herself than anyone else.  She looked over at the store owner and the town Mayor.  “Now!” Robin said to  Wells and Evans and both men raised up and began firing, rapidly, at the bank. She looked at Duncan and mouthed, “ready?”

 
MacLeod nodded as he struck a match on the trough and touched it to the rag at the end of the arrow.  He positioned the arrow in the bow and raised up to his knees...taking aim at the gabled window Robin had indicated.

 
Robin didn't wait to see if the rag caught fire.  She leaped to her feet, holding both pistols out in front of her and she ran a few steps toward the center of the street, firing one shot after another from both guns.  When she was halfway across the street.....and completely exposed...she made a diving leap towards a buggy someone had abandoned in the street when the ruckus started...twisting sideways so that her body was facing the front of the bank while she continued to fire both revolvers.  She landed on the ground behind the buggy just as she fired the last bullet in each of the revolvers and she did a modified tuck and roll which put her at the back wheel of the buggy just as the flaming arrow broke through the gabled window of the bank.

 
The robber was firing blindly in the direction of Wells and Evans and then in Robin's direction but it was more than one man could handle and his accuracy suffered drastically. A stray bullet shattered the Barber Shop window.  Another one ricocheted off the chimney of the Store's fireplace and actually rang the bell that hung outside of the town's small Firehouse.  Another one made a hole in the front side of the watering trough she and MacLeod had hid behind and its contents began to pour through the hole, creating a mud puddle in front of it.  Then the robber could be heard yelling as the curtains over the gabled window began to burn and smoke began to pour out of the attic vents, the gabled window and the large window at the front of the bank.  “You **** ****!” the robber yelled from somewhere inside the bank.

 
“Yep.  That would be me,” Robin declared, proudly and grinned victoriously back at the men who had helped her as she quickly reloaded her revolver.

 
The loud report of the robber's large gauge shotgun echoed down the street and a bullet caught the top of Wells' Bowlerhat, sending it flying off of his head and it landed on the boardwalk behind him.  As he ducked down behind the trough, again, the Mayor could be heard asking him if he was alright.  The robber could be heard coughing from inside the bank and a few minutes later the door of the bank opened and he came stumbling out onto the boardwalk in front of the bank.

 
“Throw your weapon off to the side and put your hands over your head,” Robin demanded as she cautiously moved from behind the buggy.

 
Wells, Evans and MacLeod, got to their feet...aiming their rifles at the bank robber.

 
The man was practically doubled over in the throws of a violent coughing spell but he tossed his shotgun to the side and raised his hands in the air as he was told.

 
Robin came out from behind the buggy and moved towards the robber...holding her gun out in front of her and aimed at the man's chest.  “Now lay down on your stomach and stretch your arms out to your sides as if you're flying,” Robin said in a most commanding voice.  When the man didn't respond right away, she pulled the hammer back of her revolver and yelled, more forcefully, “Do it now!”

 
The robber, reluctantly, did as he was told...mumbling obscenities directed at Robin.

 
Harry came out of the door of the bank, carrying Mr. Payne over his shoulder just as the four on duty firemen began dragging the fire wagon over to the bank now that it was safe.  One by one the towns people began to emerge from the buildings that they had taken cover in and the men began to gather at the fire wagon to help put the blaze out before the bank was totally demolished.

 
Robin walked over to the robber and looked back at MacLeod, Wells and Evans and asked, “anyone got any rope?”

 
Mirna appeared at the door of the store and called out to MacLeod, who was already on his way to join Robin,  “Here!”  and she tossed a small coil of rope.

 
MacLeod caught the rope and took a few long strides over to where Robin stood over the robber...one foot firmly planted at the back of the man's neck...forcing his face into the dirt.  He straddled the robber and tied his hands behind his back and checked to make sure the binding was secure, then he grabbed the section of rope between the man's hands and lifted the man to his feet.

 
“You keep this up, and I may have to put you on the payroll, MacLeod,” Robin said, jokingly while she watched MacLeod secure the robber's hands.  “A position seems to have just opened up,” she added with a smirk.

 
“Depends on the pay and what the benefits are,” MacLeod joked back.

 
Robin grabbed the man's upper arm with one hand while keeping her revolver trained on her prisoner.  “Let's go, loser,” she ordered, simply, and pulled him toward the Sheriff's Office/Jail.  The she said over her shoulder, “Oh...by the way, MacLeod.....welcome to the peaceful town of Ford's Prairie,” and she chuckled, sarcastically.

She had been riding hard for the past two weeks as she tried to catch up to Duane Mattox who had viciously **** and beaten one of the girls from the Lucky Ace Saloon in Ford's Prairie, the small town in which she was the sheriff.  In the last town she had learned that she was only a few days behind Mattox, so she had pressed on.  Now, 250 miles from that last town she could tell her horse was getting tired, as was she, so she found a spot near a stream far enough off the main road to provide a little privacy and made camp for the night.  With her horse fed and watered and secured for the night she set about making her dinner after which she settled down by the camp fire.  She laid back against her saddle and looked up at the night sky.  It was a clear night so the stars twinkled like tiny diamonds against the black night sky.  A full moon was just starting to appear over the mountains.  She took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh air, slightly scented with pine, then closed her eyes and snuggled under her blanket.  She was just about to drift off to sleep when a sudden clap of thunder brought her to a sitting position.  She looked up at the sky and saw that there was not a cloud in it.  Suddenly the sky lit up with lightening that seemed to come from nowhere and she looked around. More lightening flashed as another clap of thunder rumbled across the clear night sky.  She got to her feet and quickly strapped her holster back on, pulled her sword out of its sheath and followed the lightening up over a small ridge on the other side of the stream.  A short way down the other side of the ridge was a small clearing and in the middle of the clearing was a male Immortal receiving a Quickening.  She moved as close as she dared and watched from behind a boulder.  The Immortal dropped to his knees when the Quickening ended, obviously exhausted.  She was about to leave well enough alone when she felt the presence of another Immortal.  At that instant another male Immortal came screaming from behind the bushes on the other side of the little clearing where he had been hiding.  He held his sword high above his head and it was obvious that he intended to take the head of the other Immortal while he was weakened from the Quickening...a totally underhanded trick.  She jumped to her feet and ran down to the clearing where she took up a defensive stance between the charging Immortal and the one struggling to get to his feet.

 
The charging Immortal moved his sword from over his head to a thrusting position and lunged at the woman between him and his intended target.  He would first have to eliminate her before he could eliminate the other Immortal who had just beheaded his teacher.  But his lunge was blocked by the female Immortal's blade.  The clang of steel against steel echoed through the small ravine that the clearing was in as the battle ensued  He slashed wildly at the female Immortal, each move being skilfully blocked.  At one point he got too close and his opponent kicked him square in the diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him and sending him staggering backward.  He was surprised that he managed to maintain his balance  He recovered and swung his sword wildly as he moved closer to his opponent and yelled, “you ****!”  Suddenly he felt his sword twist out of his hand as the female Immortal twirled her blade around his a couple of times then thrust her blade upward, dislodging his from his grasp and sending it flying.  The move surprised him and he watched his sword sore into the bushes along the side of the clearing and fall out of sight.  The next thing he was aware of was a searing pain in his abdomen and he looked down to see the female Immortal's sword buried almost to the hilt in him.  He screamed, “you **** ****!”  His opponent pulled her sword out of his abdomen and it was then that he decided that he wasn't near good enough to win this battle and avenge his teacher so he staggered away and managed to make it into the thicket of bushes and boulders on the far side of the clearing before succumbing to his injury and dieing behind a boulder as his opponent turned back to the other Immortal who was now standing and leaning on his sword for support.

 
“Come on.  Let's get you out of here before he wakes up and decides he wants to try again,” the female Immortal said and slipped his arm over her shoulders and hurried him out of the clearing and up the small ridge she had come from.

 
“Thank you,” he said, breathlessly as he scrambled up the small deer path that led to the top of the ridge.  “I'm Duncan MacLeod and I owe you one,” he said as they reached the top of the ridge and started down the other side.

 
“Sheriff Robin Scott at your service,” came the answer.  “My camp is down by the stream,” she added, leading the way down the other side of the ridge.

 
“Did you say sheriff?”  Duncan asked, incredulously.  This was definitely a first for him.

 
“That's right,” Robin said as she jumped over a log laying across the narrow deer path.  “Sheriff of Ford's Prairie, Washington.”  The first thing she did when they reached her camp was to check on her horse.  “If your hungry there's some left over rabbit stew in the pot hanging over the fire. Help yourself.  There's a plate drying on the rock over there,” she said, pointing to the rock where she had laid out her plate and utensils to dry after washing them in the stream.  “And there's coffee in the pot next to the fire.  It should still be warm,” she added.

 
“I’m not really very hungry but the coffee sounds good,” Duncan said and walked over to the fire.  He took the cup sitting on a rock next to the pot of coffee and filled it.  Taking a seat on the ground with his back against a rock, Duncan sipped at his coffee as he watched the woman who had just saved his life console her horse.  “He's beautiful,” he said, admiringly.

 
“Thank you,” Robin said.  “Sid meet Duncan....Duncan this is Obsidian’s Fire....Sid for short,” she said, pulling a couple of sugar cubes out of her shirt pocket and holding them in her open palm while her horse gobbled them up, greedily.  “Spoiled,” she said softly to the horse and ruffled the part of his mane that lay over his forehead.  The name Obsidian’s Fire fit the Friesian stallion as he was jet black and his mane, tail and the feathers around his hooves were flaming red.  As red as Robin's long hair was.

 
“You don't see many Friesians around these parts,” Duncan said and took another sip of his coffee...his energy beginning to return to his body.

 
“Most people have to ask me what kind of horse he is,” Robin said as she joined Duncan at the fire.  She sat down on her bed roll and lay against her saddle, propping herself up on one elbow.  “So did your horse take off when the fireworks started?”  She asked, taking a pouch out of the vest pocket of her suede fringed jacket.  She opened the pouch and took out a pack of rolling papers and then sprinkled tobacco from the pouch onto a paper.  She proceeded to roll a cigarette which she lit using a twig she stuck in the camp fire until the end began to burn.  She offered the pouch to MacLeod, who refused it, then put it away...taking a long drag off of the cigarette as she did and blowing smoke rings into the camp fire's smoke.

 
“Yeah.  But he won't have gone far,” Duncan said and took another sip of his coffee as he watched the woman sitting across the camp fire from him, mesmerized.

 
“So what do you do when you're not pissing off crazy Immortals?”  Robin asked, taking a drag off of her cigarette.

 
“I used to run a newspaper in a small town south of here,” Duncan said, tearing his eyes away from Robin's face and looking up at what was left of the night sky.  “Now I'm just traveling around looking for what ever's next,” he added and took a sip of his coffee.  Caffeine or no...he suddenly felt physically drained and exhausted and he involuntarily yawned.

 
Robin tossed him her extra blanket and said, “we've got a few hours before sun up so why don't you try and get some sleep?  I know I plan on it.”  She unbuckled her holster and lay it within reach and slipped out of her fringed jacket.

 
That was when Duncan saw the glistening sheriff's star pinned to shirt.  He had a million questions he wanted to ask the first lady sheriff he had ever encountered but he was much too tired.  Instead he stretched out, using the tattered remnants of his duster as a pillow.

 
Robin lay back against her saddle and pulled her blanket up to her chin.  She looked up at the stars then drifted off to sleep.  The warmth of the morning sun on her face woke her up and she yawned and stretched then sat up and looked around. She was alone.  MacLeod had already packed up and gone.  Hanging from a stub of a broken branch on the makeshift spit over the campfire was a folded piece of paper with her name on it.  She removed it and unfolded it.

 
“Robin -  Thank you for your hospitality.  Sorry to leave so suddenly but I need to try and find my horse and continue on my journey.  Who knows...maybe I'll pay a visit to Ford's Prairie someday.  Good hunting and stay safe.  Your friend, Duncan MacLeod,” the note read.

 
“I hope he finds his horse,” Robin said aloud to herself as she refolded the note and stuffed it in her jeans pocket.  She proceeded to pack up and clear her campsite, making sure that the campfire held no smoldering embers that could start a wild fire in the dry summer brush.  Soon she and Sid were back on the road and attempting to make up the time they had lost.

 
Six and a half hours later, horse and rider turned onto the road that would take them into Richland, which was the next form of civilization and Robin suspected that Mattox would have stopped there and she hoped that it wasn't too long ago.

 
“Yeah.  He came in to buy some supplies,” said the General Store owner when Robin showed him the wanted poster with the picture of Duane Mattox.  “And a map of the area Northwest of Ft. Simcoe,” he added as an after thought.

 
“Did he say why that particular area?”  Robin asked as she gazed longingly at a jar of licorice on a shelf where it was accompanied by several jars filled with other kinds of candy.

 
The store owner shook his head.  :There isn't much between the fort and Lost Horse Plateau,” he said, following Robin's gaze.  “The only thing I can think of that would be up there is an old trapper's cabin,” he added as he took the jar off of the shelf and set it on the counter in front of Robin.

 
“What's beyond that?”  Robin asked as the owner removed the lid of the jar and the scent of fresh licorice filled her nostrils.

 
The store owner fumbled around in a drawer behind the counter and produced a map which he spread out on the remaining portion of the counter.  Using the template arm of his spectacles as a pointer, he showed Robin the area he was referring to.  “Here's the fort and the cabin would be somewhere around here. I've only been there once and that was a long time ago so I'm not completely positive of its exact location,” he said.  “Help yourself, Sheriff.  On the house,” he added, referring to the licorice.

 
Robin took a stick of the black candy out of the jar and thanked him as she studied the map.  “How far is the next form of civilization from the cabin if you were to continue in that direction?”  She asked, sucking on the stick of licorice, thoughtfully.

 
“Around 450 miles if you go around the plateau,” the owner said.  “About half that if you go over it.  But it's pretty rough terrain,” he added.  The door of the store opened and the cow bell hanging from the top of the door, jangled.  “Excuse me,” the owner said and he went to help the customer who had just walked in.

 
Robin took out some money and laid it on the counter.  She folded up the map and put it in the pocket of her jacket and left the store.  She climbed onto her horse and they headed out of town toward Ft. Simcoe.  A little after midnight, she made camp and slept until the first rays of light reached over the mountains, then they were on their way again.  They made good time and by nightfall they were over halfway to the fort.  They made camp by a stream and Sid grazed on the wild grass while Robin ate fish from the stream.  By morning both Sid and the sheriff were well rested and they continued on their journey  Robin reached the fort by nightfall.  She spent the night and bought more supplies when the store opened in the morning.

 
“I'm looking for this man,” Robin said as she showed the wanted poster to the manager of the fort's store.  “I was told that he may have stopped here before moving on. Have you seen him?”

 
The man behind the counter looked closely at the poster then nodded.  “Yes,” he said.  “He was in here yesterday afternoon asking directions.”

 
“Directions to where?”  Robin asked.  She was relieved to hear that she was less than a day behind Mattox.

 
“He asked about a trapper's cabin a half days ride from here,” the man replied.

 
“Thank you,” Robin said with a grateful smile.  “I need to purchase some ammo,” she added and told the man what she needed.

 
After purchasing extra ammunition for both her revolver and her Winchester rifle, Robin left the store.  As she was climbing onto her horse the store manager walked out onto the boardwalk and said, “we have a scout here that knows these mountains better than the natives and I'm sure that Captain Howell would loan him to you.”

 
Robin took the reins in one hand and smiled down at the man.  “Thanks, but that won't be necessary. Just point me in the direction of that cabin,” she said.

 
“Head North and you'll come to a dry creek bed.  On the other side the road splits in two and narrows. Take the road to the right and it'll take you right to it,” the man said.

 
Robin thanked him, tapped the brim of her hat and rode out of the fort.  Once outside the gate she tapped her heels against Sid's sides and he broke into a gallop.  They reached the dry creek bed as the sky was turning from blue to shades of purple and red as the sun began to disappear behind the mountains. After an hour's ride, Robin reined Sid off of the rarely used narrow road.  The moonlight lit their way as they climbed to a higher altitude.  As soon as they reached a level spot that was shielded on all sides by large boulders and trees, Robin dismounted and took a spy glass out of one of her saddlebags.  She found a good spot to view the slope back down to the rode.  She slowly scanned the tree tops with her spy glass until she saw faint wisps of smoke rising up through the trees.  The forest was too thick to see what was producing the smoke but the way the plumes of smoke seemed to stay in a concentrated pattern told Robin that it was coming from a chimney and not an open fire.  She led Sid back down the slope a ways to a vantage point where she could easily keep an eye on the cabin without being heard or seen herself.

 
The cabin was small...probably one room....with only a front door and a couple of windows which were bathed in the soft yellow glow of the fireplace and lanterns.   As far as she could tell there was just one person inside the cabin. The cabin was practically backed up against the slope but there was a small broken down lean-to and there was one unsaddled horse tied under the structure.  Robin used her spy glass and the almost full moon to get a look at the horse's left hip and saw it carried the brand of the Lazy M Ranch where Mattox had been employed.  She grabbed her, stuffed the extra ammo she had purchased at the fort into the pockets of her fringed jacket and took a set of iron handcuffs out of her saddlebag and attached them to her belt then found a comfortable spot to perch and she chewed on a hunk of venison jerky as she watched the cabin and waited for the dawn.

 
It was a couple of hours before sunrise when Robin noticed that the yellow glow had disappeared from the cabin's windows and they were dark.  There was also no more smoke coming from the cabin's chimney so she figured that Mattox had finally gone to bed.  When the sky began to turn from the night's blackness to shades of yellow, purple and blue...but before the sun actually crested the mountain tops...she cocked her rifle, placing a shell in the chamber and made her way, silently down the slope to a clump of boulders about 20 yards from the cabin.  She hid behind the shelter of the boulders until she was positive that there was no one outside of the cabin or watching her from the inside then, staying low and in the shadows, she crept to the side of the cabin and stood with her back against the wall.  She stood there listening for any sound coming from inside the cabin.  The only sound was the chattering of a couple of squirrels, the warblings of a few morning birds and the soft whisper of a breeze rustling the leaves and pine needles of the trees.

 
The first rays of sunlight were now reaching over the tops of the eastern mountains.  With the skill of stealth she had learned during the time that she had lived among the local Lakota Sioux, Robin moved to the nearest window and peeked through it.  The inside of the cabin was dark except for a small stream of light coming through the curtain-less window at the back of the cabin  The cabin had, in fact, only one large room.  The only furniture was a table and a couple of old wooden chairs, a cupboard with some dishes and an old military cot in the corner near the fireplace made out of river rock.  A cast iron kettle hung from a hook in the center of the fireplace...a ladle sticking out of the kettle indicating that Mattox' dinner left overs were probably still in the kettle.  There were several empty whiskey bottles strewn around the room and a couple of blobs of wax...the remnants of melted candles...sat in the center of the table.  After surveying the cabin interior through the window, Robin looked back at the cot and it was obvious that someone was sleeping on it.

 
Robin moved silently to the door of the cabin and slowly turned the nob.  Because it was old and a bit rusty, it took a little effort to turn it without making any noise, but Robin managed and she cautiously opened the door and stepped into the cabin.  Without any hesitation she quietly moved over to the cot and put her boot on the edge of the bed.  She gave it a quick shove and over it went...spilling its inhabitant onto the floor with a loud thump.  She stepped over the cot that was now on its side and placed the barrel of her rifle against Matt ox’s forehead just as he was starting to sit up.

 
“Duane Mattox, you are under arrest for the charge of ****, assault and battery and assault with intent to kill,” Robin said in her most authoritative voice.

 
“What?”  Mattox said looking up at Robin with a dazed and confused look on his face.  He moved like he was going to try and get up again and Robin pressed the barrel of her rifle harder against his forehead.

 
“Don't even think about it, Mattox,” Robin said, threateningly.  “You even breathe wrong and I'll  pull the trigger and this rifle will blow your head into next week.”

 
“Are you talking about that ****?” Mattox asked, incredulously.  “How do you **** a ****?”  He asked.

 
Robin placed her boot squarely in Matt ox’s crotch and he inhaled quickly and held his breath.   “I suggest you mind your tongue.  I'm tired, hungry, in need of a bath and easily pissed off.  So if you want to see your day in court...”

 
“What happened to innocent until proven guilty?”  Mattox asked.

 
“You ran.  Innocent people don't run,” Robin said and removed the handcuffs from her belt.  “Slowly roll over onto your stomach and place your arms out straight like you're flying,” she said.  As Mattox, reluctantly, complied, Robin set her rifle down and leaned it against the tipped over cot and took her revolver out of its holster.  She cocked the hammer back so Mattox would know that she was serious.  When he was on his stomach she placed her knee in the middle of his lower back and put her weight into it then put one of the cuffs on his right wrist and locked it.  She pulled his arm around behind him and stuck it under her knee.  Then she grabbed his left arm and yanked it behind him and cuffed it, locking the cuff to the one on his right wrist.  “Now get up.  Slowly.  Don't try anything stupid,” she said, moving off of him and pulling him up, using the handcuffs' chain.

 
“Do you really believe that you are going to take me back to Ford's Prairie all by yourself?”  Mattox asked, slyly, as his mind raced with plans of escape.

 
Robin holstered her revolver and picked up her rifle.  With the muzzle against Matt ox’s back she shoved him forward and out of the cabin.  “You, obviously have your doubts,” she said with a little chuckle.  “Care to make a bet on it?”  She said, tauntingly, then she let out a shrill whistle and a few seconds later Sid trotted into view and over to Robin.  She patted the horse's neck and took the rope that was coiled and laced to her saddle and tied one end, securely, to the chain between the handcuffs.  Then she wrapped it around Matt ox’s waist and tied another knot in front of him.  The other end of the rope she tied to her saddle horn.

 
“My horse is around back,” Mattox said.

 
“It's actually the Lazy M's horse. If they want it they can come and get it,” Robin said as she climbed into Sid's saddle.

 
“Are we both going to ride your horse all the way back to Ford's Prairie?”  Mattox asked.  “He might not make it with the extra weight,” he added.

 
“Who said anything about you riding?” Robin said as she let out enough length of rope so that Mattox could trail behind Sid without getting kicked.

 
“You're going to make me walk all that way?”  Mattox asked, incredulously.  “That's inhumane,” he protested.

 
“What you did to Janice was inhumane, so I won't be losing any sleep about making you hoof it all the way back home,” Robin sneered, angrily.  She nudged Sid with her heels and they were on their way back to Ford's Prairie.