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Double Vision
by TheGreyOwl
She moved like a panther, lithe and agile, her black catsuit completing the illusion. The sophisticated night vision goggles she wore over her eyes marred the illusion. Scanning the room, she quickly located the wall safe. A very simple alarm was quickly bypassed, and she concentrated on tricking the tumblers, gently teasing the dial of the safe as she listened to the tumblers click into place. A quiet snick and the safe was opened. She quickly looted only the most valuable diamonds from among the baubles inside the safe. A sheaf of papers caught her eye, and she gasped...bearer bonds, lots of bearer bonds. She scooped them up and placed them in her backpack. She quickly closed the safe, spun the dial, and reset its alarm. She withdrew out onto the balcony, closed the French doors, and disappeared into the night.
***
Atlantic City, 2 days later
Amanda surveyed the casino with a predatory eye, checking the security as automatically as she breathed, while she scanned the women present for any really interesting jewelry. She was still a little confused by the greeting from the Maitre'D. What did he mean, 'Nice to see you back, Miss Mallory.' Who the devil was Miss Mallory? As she strolled around the room, she saw a few vaguely familiar faces that she moved to avoid; it really doesn't help to see your previous marks in very public places. Hmm, the ones approaching now were ones she really didn't want to see; the ladies room makes a convenient escape.
Amanda heard someone enter the ladies powder room while she was still in the stall making notes on the casino's security. After the nearby toilet flushed, she heard the other woman washing her hands at the sink. Deciding it might be suspicious if she lingered in the stall, Amanda flushed the unused toilet and exited the stall. She placed her artificial 'Hi, it's nice to see you' smile on her face. That smile faltered as she came face-to-face with the other woman. It couldn't be, but it obviously was; she was face-to-face with herself.
For a moment, neither woman spoke. They just stared at each other, trying to adjust to the reality of meeting their exact duplicate. They were even wearing exactly the same dress, shoes, and color of lipstick. Amanda cleared her throat, and said, "I'll bet you are Miss Mallory."
"Yes, I'm Jessica Mallory. Who are you, and how did you know my name?" the other woman responded.
"My name is Amanda Darieux. This explains the Maitre'D's greeting. He thought I was you, so I was wondering just who this Miss Mallory could be, and here you are. Boy, this feels really weird. It's like talking to myself!" Amanda responded.
Jessica laughed, and said, "I know what you mean. I can't get over how much we look alike. Do you think we're twins separated at birth or something?"
"I doubt it, unless you are a lot older than you look." Amanda replied. "Listen, why don't we go somewhere and talk. I can think of all kinds of ways this chance meeting could really pay off for us both."
"Sure." After a moment's thought, Jessica went on to say that she lived not far from the casino. Amanda told her that she mainly lived in Europe, and that she was staying in a hotel near the airport. "Not any more," Jessica said, "I can't have my long lost sister in an airport hotel!"
As they started to leave the rest room, Amanda said, "Would you mind if I met you out front? There are some folks out in the casino that I am trying to avoid."
Jessica gave her a funny look, but agreed. "I've got a midnight blue 1965 Mustang. It's parked over to the right as you go out the front doors." Jessica shook her head in amusement at her "sister's" odd quirk, and left to get her car. Amanda followed her a moment later, slipping unobtrusively around the fringes of the crowd and out the side door. Jessica had just started the engine, when the passenger door opened and Amanda quickly slipped into the car. After identifying which hotel Amanda was staying at, Jessica skillfully drove her vintage car to the hotel.
"I have a friend who would really like your car. He drives a vintage Thunderbird convertible." Amanda commented. As she spoke, she thought //Hey, you know that's not a bad idea. Can you imagine Mac's reaction to a second Amanda...especially one he can't sense. That might be worth selling tickets!//
The two made small talk as they drove the 20 minutes to the hotel. Jessica waited in the car while Amanda quickly gathered her bags and settled her bill. Twenty-five minutes later, they were settled in Jessica's apartment.
"Nice place, Jessica. What do you do for a living?" Amanda asked after surveying the apartment.
"Call me Jessie, okay? Well, my folks were killed in a rather terrible accident that resulted in a substantial settlement from an insurance company. I did college and then went into acting, although I'm not working on anything right now. I had a rather public run-in with the producer, which caused him some problems at home. So, Amanda, what do you do over there in Europe and what brings you to sunny Atlantic City?"
"Well, I work in acquisitions for collectors. I recently completed a project, and am enjoying some of the fruits of my labors. I'd never been in Atlantic City, so I thought I'd check out the action before I moved on to the West Coast to visit some friends."
"You know, I'm having a little trouble understanding that. You see, on my way out of the casino, a very angry man who called me Amanda and demanded to know where his diamonds were accosted me. Fortunately, the Maitre'D spotted the incident and extricated me from this unsavory fellow's clutches. So, truth time, dear double. What's the real story."
Amanda looked steadily at her reflection, and made a decision. "Okay, I'm an international thief. I usually specialize in jewelry, although I've dabbled in other things as well. I didn't really lie to you. I do work in acquisitions...I acquire things for myself. I rarely take anything that will cause a great outcry of public outrage; my favorite target is diamonds given to mistresses by married men. Very little publicity. Anyway, I decided to get away from the area for a while and visit some friends here in America. Is this going to be a problem for you?"
"Not really. You see, Amanda, I'm basically an amoral person. I really don't give a fig about society's rules or Mrs. Grundy's opinion. Hence my present problems vis-à-vis the producer. I was just thinking it might be fun to work together. I could be seen somewhere very public while you're busy pulling an acquisition; instant alibi. What do you think?"
"I think we need to get you a plane ticket to Seacover in the morning. We are going to really blow the mind of a very special friend."
"Hmmm, the way you say that makes me think this friend is male."
"Oh, that he is, Jessie. You won't believe how very male Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod can be!"
***
Seacover, the next evening.
Duncan had just finished his shower when he felt the unmistakable presence of another immortal. While the "flavor" of the alarm was one he had come to attribute to Amanda, he took no chances. Katana in hand, he glided through the darkness in the loft near the elevator. When the elevator stopped, Duncan swept the sexy brunette into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. As his hands roamed her torso and his lips traveled her neck, he heard another speak.
"Duncan, I'm over here. You haven't really been introduced to the woman you're busy seducing."
Mac looked up and there stood Amanda, a big grin on her face as she watched first surprise, then confusion, and finally the realization that he was (a) naked, and (b) fondling a stranger penetrated his consciousness. "Holy shit!" he said as he dove for his bedroom amid the amused laughter of both women.
After he had left the living area, Amanda turned to Jessie. "What did I tell you? That's all male!'
"You weren't kidding! That kiss curled my toes. I was just about to drag him down onto the carpet then and there!" Jessie replied, shaking her head. "I just hope I can regain my composure before he comes back."
"You'd better just take a deep breath and go with the flow, because here he comes."
Duncan MacLeod entered the room dressed casually in a pair of worn Dockers with a cashmere v-neck sweater over a T-shirt. Cordovan loafers buffed to a soft glow completed his ensemble. This time he paused to stare at the two women side by side, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't tell you apart. The blush tells me that you must be the new Amanda; my Amanda forgot how to blush a long time ago." As he spoke, Duncan took Jessie's hand in his and kissed the back of her hand in an old-fashioned gesture. Amanda chuckled as she realized that Jessie's sudden intake of breath and flush meant Duncan had scored again...another victim of that incredible MacLeod charm.
Pushing forward, Amanda melted into Duncan's arms. "Where's my kiss?"
"I gave it to her when you first came in," Duncan laughed. "Get it back from her. It was your trick."
"You're a mean old man, Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." Amanda complained. "Why don't we go down to Joe's and surprise him, too."
Jessie turned, "Is Joe someone like Duncan?"
"Nobody's like Duncan," Amanda quipped. "No, Joe is a very good friend of ours who runs a blues bar nearby."
***
Joe was behind the bar serving drinks in the crowded, dimly lit bar. The in-crowd had discovered Joe's, and it was standing room only. Joe looked up as the sultry voice whispered, "Say, handsome. How's a girl supposed to get a drink around here?"
"Amanda!" Joe cried in surprise. "I thought you were in Paris. Does Duncan know you're in town?"
"He's grabbing a table. How about a white wine while I have your attention." After getting her wine, Amanda drifted away from the bar and out into the crowd.
"Excuse me, please. Could I have a white wine?"
The timbre of the voice snapped Joe's head around. "How did you get over there, Amanda, and what did you do with the wine I just gave you?"
"You must have me confused with someone else" said the woman as she, too, vanished into the crowded bar.
//That's it// Joe thought. Moving out from behind the bar, he moved through the crowds until he caught sight of his friend. Joe stopped dead in his tracks; there sat Duncan MacLeod with two Amandas, both drinking white wine. "Okay, what's the game?" Joe demanded.
"Joe, may I present Jessica Mallory, aspiring actress?" Duncan began. "As you can see, she bears a passing resemblance to our homely friend here" (ducking immediately as Amanda swung a stinging slap at his head).
Both women burst into laughter as Joe sat down between them at the table. "Miss Mallory, I am charmed to meet you and welcome you to my humble establishment. How on earth did you ever get mixed up with this vixen?"
Over the next hour or so, everyone traded stories. Joe went up to the stage and performed a few blues numbers for a while, the rejoined the group at the table. Jessica sat back and watched the camaraderie between the three. In a strange way, she felt like Amanda was looking for Joe's approval...his opinion was important to her in ways that Amanda had not revealed. Who was this distinguished man with his smoky voice and eyes that seemed to see everything around him? What was his relationship to this curious pair? Above all, who was Duncan MacLeod, this incredible hunk that turned her knees to jelly and through her inhibitions out the window?
Duncan was a martial arts instructor. Right, like Amanda was in acquisitions. His body showed the effort he spent keeping in shape, and the dojo below his loft was real enough, but Jessie knew there was more to this than just karate or whatever. No, there was something much more to Duncan MacLeod. How much did he know about Amanda's real profession? If he did know, what was his involvement? And where does this Joe Dawson fit in to all this? Questions ran round and round in her head like the smoke swirling in the air of the club.
She found herself no closer to any answers as they walked into the loft.
***
Duncan awoke alone. There was no "buzz" from another immortal in the loft. Wondering where they could have gone led Duncan to think about the evening before. What an incredible turn of events. It was like having two Amandas. When he walked out of the bedroom, he was startled to find Amanda sitting on the couch. No, there wasn't a 'buzz' so it must be Jessica. "Good morning, Jessica."
"Hi. Please, can't you call me Jessie after last night?"
"Okay, as long as you call me Mac. Have you had breakfast?"
"I was just getting ready to fix something. Would you like some?" Jessie asked.
"What?? You can cook? There is a difference between you. Amanda can burn water by merely thinking about going into the kitchen!"
Duncan watched in amazement as Jessie deftly created the lightest, fluffiest omelets. They rested on the plates with that perfect golden finish...so perfect it seemed a shame to eat them. Duncan complimented her on her culinary talents as he tasted his omelet. "This is wonderful. You have made my day. Wait until I can tease Amanda!'
"Tease Amanda about what?" said the voice from the elevator as the buzz reached Mac. Amanda entered the kitchen area and stole a bite of Duncan's eggs. "Duncan, you've gotten better!"
"Ha! Jessie made these. I'm going to keep her and throw you out!" Duncan said as he grabbed at Amanda.
"Ungrateful wretch!" Amanda cried as she fled laughing from Duncan's grasp. "Has he been making suggestive comments to you, Jessie?"
"None he wouldn't make to you." Jessie replied.
"That's what I'm afraid of. He incorrigible!"
"Now that's the pot calling the kettle black." came the voice from the stairs. Joe Dawson went on to say, "I hope I'm not intruding but I need to see you, Mac."
After a series of welcomes from everyone, Duncan and Joe went down into the dojo. "What's up, Joe?"
"You know how I don't like to meddle, but something strange is happening. Late last night, I had visitors, ostensibly from the FBI, asking questions about Amanda."
"Joe, someone's always asking questions about Amanda."
"Yeah, but this seemed different. I just thought you should know."
"Thanks, I appreciate it. I let Amanda know and see if I can find out anything. I wonder what she took this time."
***
"ONE HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS!!!!!!!! Amanda, are you crazy??? They will never rest until they have you this time. You just can't take that kind of money from people!" Duncan shouted at her. "How the hell did you do it?"
"Well, there were these bearer bonds in this safe in a chateau near Cannes. I didn't really look at them until after I left. Each was worth a million dollars, and there were one hundred of them."
"Where are they now?" Duncan asked.
"In a wonderful little bank in Geneva," replied Amanda, "and you know how well those darling bankers keep your finances secret."
"The next question is just from whom did you steal them, and who was asking about you."
"Duncan, does the name Helmut Stolz mean anything to you?"
"Oh, Amanda," Duncan groaned.
***
Germany, 1945
As the last of the crates were loaded into the tramp steamer, the ship's captain turned to the stern man beside him. Even without the uniform, the stiff upright bearing announced that this man was both an aristocrat and a military officer. The captain thought this German had the coldest eyes of anyone he'd ever met. they reminded him of the eyes of a shark...cold, remorseless, pitiless. 'I wouldn't want this man angry at me,' thought the captain.
"All is loaded, Herr General."
The German turned as the man spoke. He stared intently at the captain for a moment, and then spoke. "You understand your instructions. There must not be any mistakes, by you or your crew." His voice was like his eyes, cold and remote.
"Yes, Herr General. My men understand they are to stay away from your cargo. Your contact said there would be someone traveling with the cargo. As soon as that person is aboard, we can cast off. All else is in readiness."
"I will be accompanying you, captain." A chill of foreboding passed through the captain at those words.
***
"Eric Stolz was a relatively unknown young Nazi general who disappeared with most of the looted treasures of Europe and large amounts of gold. He sailed from Marseilles, France in 1945 aboard a tramp steamer. The steamer was found eight months later along the coast of Argentina. Every member of the crew had been slaughtered, dismembered and strewn throughout the ship. No trace of Stolz or the cargo was ever found." Duncan said quietly. "Amanda, what does he have to do with this?"
"I found some papers mixed in with the bonds. His name was on the papers along with the name of a prominent member of the neo-Nazi movement. I think it is possible that Stolz is one of us and has now resurfaced as the new Hitler."
"I think we can safely rule out the FBI if it is Stolz after you," Duncan said.
"Excuse me, but what are you talking about? What do mean "one of us"? I'm getting really confused. How could someone who disappeared in 1945 be the new leader of the neo-Nazis? That was over 50 years ago. The new guy is about 40, tops." interjected Jessica.
Duncan looked at Jessica and realized that she was a serious complication. Not only was she hearing things which she should not know, her eerie resemblance to Amanda could get her kidnapped or killed in Amanda's place. Was it fair to keep her in the dark, and hope she would be okay, or do they reveal the truth to this outsider.
Amanda made the choice for them. "Jessica, how old do you think I am?"
"What? What does that have to do with anything?"
"Humor me."
"Okay, I guess you are about the same as me. Say 26."
"Brace yourself. I was born in England in the fall of 824 AD I became immortal during the year 850 when I died during the Black Plague. Duncan was born on the winter solstice in 1592 and he died in 1622."
Disbelief colored Jessica's face as she looked at each of them. Are they crazy? They obviously believe this nonsense.
Duncan made his own choice. He drew his table knife across the palm of his hand, slicing a deep cut through the meat of his hand. Jessie gasped as the blood flowed, but watched in fascination as small flickers of lightning played along the edges of the slash and the wound closed until there was no indication of the cut except the pool of blood on the counter top. "If I am stabbed in the heart, I will die temporarily until my body heals enough to resume living. The only way we truly die is if someone cuts off our heads."
Jessica felt the universe change around her. Rules she had taken for granted were no longer valid. These people were actually immortal. My God, Amanda was over a thousand years old!
"Immortals are just like other people in some respects. There are really good ones, like Duncan here, and there are some that are evil incarnate. If this man is in fact Eric Stolz, then he is one of the really bad ones. Obviously, it is too late for me to pretend it never happened and try to get the bonds back." Amanda went on. "He knows I exist and he's hunting me. That puts you in danger, as well, because you look like me."
"What we need to do is figure out some way of putting an end to this evil once and for all," Jessica said.
"WE????" laughed Duncan and Amanda together.
***
Cannes, France. One week later.
Eric Stolz glared at the man in front of his desk. He recognized his irritation stemmed from his inability to control events to his satisfaction. Take the matter of the thief, Amanda Darieux. He had reports that she was seen in two different cities at the same time. How incompetent could these people be. Couldn't they find and seize one woman? "Manfred, this is not acceptable. I want this woman found today. I want her, alive, in this chateau before the sun sets. Is that clear?"
Manfred nodded his head, not trusting his voice to speak. He'd seen what his master was capable of doing to those who had failed him.
"You may leave."
As Stolz gazed out the window, the telephone rang. He could hear his private secretary answer, the discrete murmur of muted conversation. As the secretary approached, he turned.
"Sir, are you in for a Miss Darieux? She said she had a matter of finance to discuss."
Stolz took a slow breath, and picked up the phone. "Yes?"
The woman spoke. "I have something of yours. Had I known what it was at the time, and the value that you placed upon it, I would not have intruded. How may we come to some accommodation satisfactory to us both?"
"Return what is mine here to my chateau. Any other response is unacceptable."
"Forgive me, but I do not find that solution to my comfort. How can I trust you? I find a private gathering more appropriate to our business, don't you?"
Stolz breath caught in his throat. Another immortal? "Where?"
"The main plaza in Nuremberg at 11:00 p.m. tomorrow night. We won't be interrupted there."
"Agreed."
As Stolz hung up the telephone, he began shouting orders to his people. By tomorrow evening, the plaza at Nuremberg would be his to control.
***
"You know, of course, that he will cheat. He will have his thugs all over the place." Amanda said.
I know. In fact, I bet he won't even go. He'll send his minions and wait at the chateau for his prisoner. That's why we are going to the chateau, not Nuremberg." Duncan said.
"Why Nuremberg?" Jessie asked.
"Because that is where the Nazi war crimes were held. I found that to be somewhat poetic."
***
Stolz was waiting in his study for news from his people. As 11:00 PM approached, he began to envision the trap he had laid for Miss Darieux. Every avenue of approach to the plaza was guarded by his people. There was no way she could escape.
"Been waiting long?" The sultry voice came from behind him just as he felt the buzz of another immortal. He spun to face her, seeing the graceful curves of her figure. She was an attractive woman, no doubt; too bad she had to die.
"Where are my bonds?" he demanded.
"Gone where they can do some good." The reply came, in the same voice, from another corner of the room. Incredible. There were two of them. No wonder he had been getting such confusing reports.
"Then you will both die." he said with finality.
"I doubt that, Stolz." There was no mistaking the threat implicit in that deep baritone voice. Stolz spun and faced a new figure. Tall, lithe, dark hair. The lilt in the voice hinted at a language other than English as first language. His challenger spoke again, "My name is Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, and I have come for you."
"My fight is with Miss Darieux," Stolz replied.
"Your fight is with me, Stolz. You'll find I'm not so easy ta' butcher as the crew of the ship in Argentina, nor the helpless victims in the camps." The Scots brogue became pronounced as MacLeod moved into position, his katana raised in challenge.
With a cry, Stolz lashed out with the Teutonic broadsword he'd held by his side. The clash of the swords rang in the room as the two struggled for advantage. Stolz dodged behind furniture, dashed things from the surfaces of tables, in an effort to distract MacLeod from his single-minded pursuit. Both women had vanished from the room as the fight continued. Thinking MacLeod had overextended his blade, Stolz rushed his thrust only to be met with MacLeod's backhanded slash across the abdomen.
Stolz's blade fell from his suddenly numb fingers as he fell to his knees. The incredible pain of his damaged stomach forced his head to bow down, presenting his neck in a classic pose of submission. With the whispered cry of "there can be only one," Duncan's katana flashed down, severing Stolz's head cleanly.
Jessie watched wide-eyed through the partially closed door as the quickening began. The electrical discharges arced through the air, flashing from the corpse to MacLeod. Duncan's head was arched back with a grimace of pain, as bolt after bolt of the primal energy slammed into his body. The room was darkened as the discharges shattered all the light fixtures, and all electronic equipment exploded in a burst of sparks and energy. Duncan fell to his own knees as the quickening began to dissipate.
"My God, is it always so?" she whispered.
Amanda took her in her arms and held her trembling young friend. "The longer one of us has lived means their quickening is more powerful. I doubt if we will ever know how long Stolz lived or even who he really was. Part of the agony of the quickening is absorbing the essence of the slain, integrating it into ourselves in such a way that who we are is not overcome. Don't worry about Duncan. He is not only one of the best swordsman, he is also the greatest force for good."
***
Two seemingly unrelated news stories seemed to capture the world's attention the next day. The first reported the head of the neo-Nazi movement had been found dead in a chateau in France. The circumstances surrounding the death were classified as a ritual killing. Of special note were the contents of the safe found at the house. Documents contained within the safe revealed the whereabouts of most of the stolen art works missing since the end of the second World War, along with banking information linked to the moneys looted from the victims of the holocaust.
The second stated that an anonymous benefactor had gifted the Jewish Relief Fund, through the auspices of the United Nations, with one hundred million dollars.
The end.