Mistaken Identity
by Laura F. Schomberg

author's note: This is a sequel to my story "Uncommon Sense," which appeared in Highland Blades #1. This story, however, stands alone. It was first published in The Sentry Duty #3. If you are interested in either zine, please contact Linda Hutchinson at lhgraphics@aol.com


Blair pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes before putting them back on. He read the first paragraph on the page in front of him again to no avail. It still made no sense. Sighing, he wrote an X next to the answer. Below the X he wrote, "In English, please."

"That's cruel," a voice behind him said.

Blair jerked his chair back and swung around. He relaxed when he recognized the man standing behind him. "Richie! I didn't even hear you come in."

Richie shrugged. "Sorry, but I did knock. Twice."

"I guess I was caught up in what I was doing," Blair said, absently scratching his head. "When did you get back and how long are you in town?" he asked, motioning to a relatively clean chair.

Richie moved a stack of papers from the chair to the floor and sat down. "I got back a couple of days ago. How long will I be in town?" He shrugged. "That depends on if I run into any old friends."

Blair frowned. "I keep forgetting about that." He ran a hand through his hair before saying, "Guess that means you don't have time to take any courses?"

Richie shook his head.

"Too bad. You'd make a great anthropologist."

"How so?"

"Not too many people can study mankind for hundreds of years."

Both men chuckled. They settled back in their chairs and talked, catching each other up on what they had been doing.

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

Steven Dumke, a forty-year-old man who looked closer to fifty, sat on a bench across from the Anthropology building. His eyes flicked nervously from the notebook he carried to the door he'd seen Richie Ryan enter. 'What the hell was Joe thinking asking me to watch this kid?' he thought to himself for perhaps the hundredth time that day. Dumke, normally a researcher, had only agreed to watch Ryan because Dawson had told him it would only be for a few days. Just long enough for Ryan's regular Watcher, Sullivan, to recover from a bad case of the flu. Personally, he'd rather be stuck in some dusty room trying to track down unknown immortals.

Finally, Dumke closed the notebook he'd been trying to study -- hoping to do research while he watched the young immortal -- and stared at the opposite building. 'Ryan knows about Watchers anyway,' he thought. 'He's probably already spotted me more than once.' He shook his head. "I wasn't trained for this," he said.

He tried to keep his focus on the building in front of him, but his mind kept wandering to his secret dream of finding the most elusive immortal of them all -- Methos. He knew there was another Watcher on that case, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. He'd met Adam Pierson a couple of years before when he was doing some research in Paris. Dumke didn't think the man had enough dedication to ever find this particular immortal.

Lost in thought, he didn't see Ryan leave the Anthropology building. A hand tapped him on the shoulder and he jumped. Looking up he saw Ryan waving as he headed back to a smaller man with shoulder-length, dark, curly hair. "Damn kid," he said to himself as he watched the two men converse for a few minutes and then leave separately.

"Sullivan better get well soon," he said as he pushed himself to his feet before heading to his car.

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

"Are you sure about this?" Jim asked as he drove the truck through downtown Seattle.

"Yes. It'll be great! Good music, friendly company. What can go wrong?" Blair answered.

"The last time we got together with Richie and his friend Duncan the two of you nearly lost your heads."

Blair chuckled. "According to Richie, Duncan is out of town. No one's after him and no one tried to run him down in the parking lot at the university. Everything's cool, man."

"I don't know," Jim said. "From what Duncan told me you and Richie are a lot alike."

"I don't see anything wrong in that."

"Except you both draw trouble like flies to honey," Jim said, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Very funny." He pointed toward a building on the left of the truck. "There's the bar."

Jim nodded, pulled up to the driveway, and slipped into the last empty spot. Meeting behind the truck to walk to the bar, they didn't notice a tall, thin man falling into step in front of them.

The man walked into the bar before them. Jim caught the door before it shut and held it for Blair. The younger man looked around, lightly back-handed Jim's stomach, and then pointed over to Richie.

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

Dumke sat at a table in the back. He had a good view of Ryan and the door from his position. He was on the verge of chalking the night up as another waste of his time and true talents when he noticed Ryan's head snap up. His eyes turned to the door in imitation of the young immortal.

Dumke immediately recognized the man coming through the door as Adam Pierson, fellow Watcher. As Pierson walked over to the bar, Dumke turned his attention back to Ryan. He noticed the young immortal relax and smile, waving to someone. Dumke turned his gaze back to the door and saw the same man he'd seen with Ryan at the university. He disregarded the man who came in at the same time, his focus riveted on the long-haired man.

"Immortal," he breathed to himself as he pulled his notepad out. He quickly drew a rough sketch of the shorter of the two men. 'Tomorrow,' he thought, 'I'll look him up in the computer records.' He finished the drawing and shoved the pad into his jacket.

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

The next day, Dumke deserted his current Watcher duties to identify the immortal he spotted the night before. His search through the Watcher database revealed no immortals fitting Ryan's companion's description, though. Undaunted, he headed over to Rainer University, sketch in hand.

"Could you help me?" he asked a small group of students leaving the Anthropology building. They stopped and he continued, "I was in a car accident a few days ago. Luckily, I wasn't hurt but my car is totaled. The man who ran the light and hit me is claiming that he had the right of way." He showed the students the sketch he had made. "This man witnessed the accident and said he'd help out. I was pretty shook up at the time, though, and forgot to get his name." He shook his head. "All I remember is he said he worked at this university in the anthropology department."

"That's Blair Sandburg," an Asian student told him. "I just came from his class. If you hurry you can catch him in room 357. If he's not there, try his office, room 221."

Dumke thanked the students and headed into the building. He went to the third floor and discreetly glanced in the open door of room 357 on his way past. Sandburg wasn't there. He went to Sandburg's office and again looked through the open door as he walked by. He saw his quarry putting books into a backpack.

A few feet ahead, Dumke spotted a line of phone booths. He casually walked over to one, picked up the phone, and pretended to dial a number. He turned to watch Sandburg's office, all the while pretending to speak on the phone. When Sandburg left his office and walked past him, he said good bye and hung up. Nonchalantly, he followed Sandburg out of the building and toward his car. When Dumke was close enough to get the license number, he quickly memorized it then walked to his own car. He got in, wrote down the information, and drove off.

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

"Hey, Chief," Jim said from the kitchen as Blair came into the loft. "Get those tests all graded?"

Blair walked over to his room and tossed his backpack in. "Yeah. Finally. I'm beginning to like the idea of a multiple choice test more and more, man."

"I thought multiple choice tests were the spawn of Satan," Jim said. He pulled a beer out of the refrigerator and handed it to Blair.

"Thanks, Jim." Blair popped the top off the beer. He walked over and dropped heavily onto the sofa, sighed, and took a sip of the beer. "I needed that."

Jim brought his own beer over and sat near Blair. "So why are you thinking about giving multiple choice tests?"

The younger man grimaced. "You should read some of the answers people gave. They seemed to be trying to think of every fifty-cent word they knew or thought they knew."

"They're trying to impress the teacher."

"I'd be more impressed if they got the answers right." Blair took another long sip from the bottle, then tipped his head back against the back of the sofa.

A comfortable silence settled in the loft. Finally, Jim said, "I know it's your turn to cook but why don't we go out tonight? Maybe get some Chinese? Or that new Thai place you were talking about? My treat."

Blair chuckled. "If you're willing to pay, I'm game."

"Good. Let's leave in about 10 minutes."

"Sounds good to me." Blair sat up and finished off his beer. "Something weird happened at the university today," he said as he got up and headed to his room.

Jim paused on his way to the bathroom. "What was that, Chief?"

"Apparently, some man was trying to find me. He told some of my students that I had been a witness to an accident he was in. They told him where to find me but I never saw him." He shrugged. "I wouldn't have known about him at all except that one of my students came back and asked if he'd found me."

"Did he tell you what the man looked like?"

"Yeah. Vinh said he was white and looked to be about 50. And he had a bit of a paunch."

"That's all?"

"Sorry."

Jim shook his head. "That's okay. Have you witnessed an accident that I don't know about?"

"No."

Jim started toward the bathroom then came back to Blair. "I don't like this. We're not working on any specific case right now so I can come with you to the university tomorrow."

"I'm not going to the university tomorrow." Blair gave Jim a small push toward the bathroom. "I'm going to the station. I thought we were going out to eat."

"I still don't like this," Jim said.

"I can look after myself, Jim. Besides, I doubt this guy, whoever he is, is going to try anything. He probably just got me confused with someone else."

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

Joe sighed as Dumke came into the bar, loaded with papers, and sat down at a table. It was still three hours until the bar opened and Dumke should be out watching Richie until his usual watcher, Sullivan, came back tomorrow. The Watcher waved Joe over. "What now?" Joe muttered as he crossed the bar.

"Shouldn't you be somewhere else? I don't see Ryan here."

Dumke dismissively waved his hand. "I've found someone even better than Ryan to watch."

Barely suppressing a groan, Joe asked, "Who is it this time?"

"I know you'll think I'm crazy, but I think I've found Methos."

Joe's blood ran cold. He remembered Methos coming into the bar a couple of nights back. Richie was already there. Had Dumke noticed Richie's reaction to the other immortal? "If I remember correctly," he said, sounding as casual as he could, "you've found Methos before."

"I know, Joe. I know. But this time it's for real." He started rummaging through his papers. "Remember the other night when Ryan was in the bar? I saw him react to an immortal. Pierson came in and, right behind him, this man entered." He found the sketch and handed it over to Joe.

The Watcher took a close look at the drawing. He'd seen the young man here with Richie a couple of times.

"It took some time, but I was able to get the name he's using now. Blair Sandburg. He teaches over at Ranier University and lives with a Cascade detective."

Joe nodded. "I've seen him before. He's not immortal. It must have been someone else. Maybe someone passing by."

"No. No. It was Sandburg Ryan reacted to. Sandburg came in with a guy named Ellison, but Ellison didn't react to Ryan at all. Besides, Ellison's face has been on too many magazine covers and news broadcasts for him to be an immortal."

Joe resisted the urge to rub the bridge of his nose. "What makes you so sure Sandburg is immortal?"

Dumke pulled another paper from his pile. "Here's his birth certificate," he said, handing it to Joe. "There's no father listed."

"That doesn't prove he's immortal. Does the mother listed exist?

"Yes, but that just means that he convinced her to claim he was her son so he could establish a new identity."

Joe shook his head. "I don't know. Twenty-plus years is a long time to wait for an identity to develop."

"Not for the oldest immortal. To him, it would seem like hardly any time at all. Besides, the records don't have to actually be that old. Some of these immortals are pretty good at falsifying records."

Joe leaned back in his chair. "All right. I don't think this kid is immortal, but for argument's sake, let's say he is. How do you jump to the conclusion that he's Methos?"

"He's an anthropologist. Who else would know more about different cultures and their histories than Methos?"

"Doesn't prove a thing."

"Also, I've found a description of someone who traveled with Richard Burton that matches Sandburg's general description. There's no picture, but I'm sure it's him."

Joe took everything Dumke handed him, then said, "I think you're reaching here, Steven. I doubt this kid is immortal, much less Methos. You'll have to bring more proof than this."

"You're just trying to protect your friend Pierson," Dumke snapped. "He hasn't been able to do his job and I have."

"No," Joe replied softly. "That's not it at all. This wouldn't be the first time you found an immortal who wasn't immortal. I'm sorry, Steven, but I'll need more proof than this."

Dumke put his hands to his head. He was silent for a few moments then said, "If that's what you want." He lifted his head. "I'll get more evidence."

"Not until Sullivan can watch Ryan again," Joe warned. "And don't interfere with his life. Just because he's friends with Ryan doesn't mean that Sandburg knows about immortals."

"Of course he knows," Dumke muttered as he left. "He is one."

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

Blair got out of his car and headed to the loft. He was almost to the outside door when an older man stepped out, blocking his way. Blair tried to step around him, but the man moved in the same direction. He stepped to the other side and the man moved with him again.

Blair smiled at the stranger. "Shall we dance?" he joked.

"No," the man said. He pulled a gun from his pocket. "But you can come with me."

Blair raised his hands and looked around. It was early evening. Normally the street would be busy at this time of day, but today it was nearly deserted. "You don't want to do this, man."

"It's the only way," the man said. He jerked his head toward the parking lot. "Back to your car."

"The only way for what?" Blair slowly walked back to his car. Jim had insisted they take separate cars into the station today so he could run some errands on his own after work. Blair had run a couple of errands himself so he expected Jim back anytime now. If he could delay this guy long enough, maybe Jim would drive up.

"To prove who you are."

"That?" Blair started to reach for his wallet. "Here, man, I'll just show you my driver's license."

His captor shoved the gun into the small of Blair's back. "Just get in your car. We both know that license is a fake."

Blair had opened the door when he decided to make one more bid for time. "Who do you think I am?"

"Methos." The stranger shoved him into the car. He kept the gun trained on Blair as he got into the back seat.

"Who?"

"Come on Mr. Sandburg," he said before closing his door. "We both know you're really Methos."

"Look, if you know my name, you know I'm not this Methos character." 'Come on, Jim,' Blair silently thought to himself.

The man holding him prisoner didn't answer. He pressed the gun against the base of Blair's neck, then said, "Drive. I'll give you directions as we go."

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

When Richie walked into Joe's, the owner immediately waved him over to the bar. The place was crowded so it took him a few minutes to reach the quieter, far end of the bar.

"What's up?" Richie asked Joe.

"Have you seen your friend Sandburg today?"

"No. Since when are you interested in mortals?"

Joe leaned heavily on the counter. "Since one of my Watchers insists the man's immortal."

Richie flashed Joe a confused look. "Who thinks Blair is immortal?"

"Dumke. Your temporary Watcher."

"How did he get that idea?"

"He saw you react to Methos coming in the bar the other night and thought you were reacting to Sandburg." Joe paused. "I'm worried about Sandburg. Dumke thinks he is Methos. I got a call from him about 10 minutes ago asking if a videotape would be proof enough."

"Shit. What does he mean by that?"

Joe shrugged. "He wouldn't tell me any more." He looked around to make sure no one was listening to their conversation. "Dumke's a bit off. Too many of his 'finds' have turned out to be mortals."

"Can I borrow your phone?"

Joe pulled it out and placed it on the counter.

"Thanks." Richie pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and checked the number on it as he dialed the phone. He was silent for a minute, then said, "Jim? Is Blair there?" He shook his head at Joe. "When were you expecting him?" He sighed. "Hang on a second." He turned back to Joe. "Blair should have been home over an hour ago. Jim can't reach him on his cellphone. He's worried because someone -- probably Dumke -- has been asking around about Blair at the university. Do you have any idea where Dumke might take him?"

Joe got a pen and a napkin, and started to draw a map. "He's got a place outside Cascade. The front looks like a nursery."

"He wouldn't take him anywhere else?"

"No. If he's got Sandburg, he'd take him there."

Richie quickly passed along the directions to Dumke's place, telling Jim he'd explain what was going on when they met there. He hung up the phone and said, "I hope you're wrong about this, Joe."

"So do I, kid," Joe said to Richie's retreating back. He called one of the bartenders over, quietly spoke to him, made a quick phone call, and then followed Richie out the door.

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

Blair, gagged and tied to a chair in the middle of a brightly lit room, watched nervously as his captor set up a video camera a few feet away. He now knew the name of the man holding him. He even knew the man's reasoning behind the abduction. He didn't know how Dumke planned to prove that he was immortal. His imagination, however, was trying to fill in that picture all on its own. None of the ways he thought of were pleasant and all involved his extremely permanent death.

Dumke cursed, jerking Blair's attention from his increasingly gruesome imagination. The Watcher pushed a button on the camera and the battery popped off. He turned and stalked out of the room.

Blair relaxed. 'Hopefully he won't find another battery,' he thought to himself. Blair didn't know what Dumke was planning but he did know that without the video camera he wouldn't have any 'proof' of his claim.

His hope was beginning to build when the Watcher came back into the room with another battery. He stuck it into the camera and looked through the viewer. Again he cursed and pulled out the battery. As he left again he said, "Don't worry. I've got a third one. It's an hour away from being fully charged. We'll get down to business then."

Blair sagged against the ropes. 'An hour,' he thought. 'Please let it be enough time for Jim to find me.'

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

Jim had just arrived and was about to leave his truck and head toward the house he saw in back of the garden, when he heard Richie's motorcycle pull up. He stepped out of the truck and walked over to the young immortal.

"What's going on, Richie?"

The immortal removed his helmet and said, "I think the guy assigned to watch me for the last few days kidnapped Blair."

Jim pulled his gun. "Why would he do that?"

"According to Joe, he thinks Blair is an immortal."

"What?"

"He saw me react to another immortal entering Joe's and thought it was Blair. Dumke's convinced that he's immortal. Not just immortal but the oldest immortal."

Jim stood still for a moment, as if lost in thought, then he turned to Richie saying, "Blair's in there with another man. Must be Dumke. Let's move."

They walked just inside of the line of luscious cherry blossom trees bordering the path to Dumke's house. Jim, slightly in front, said, "I still don't understand why he'd kidnap Blair."

"He wants to prove that Blair is Methos. He asked Joe something about videotape being enough proof."

"How do you prove someone's immortal?"

Richie looked up from the ground and nearly stumbled on an exposed root. "One way is to kill the immortal and wait for them to come back to life."

Grim-faced, Jim said, "Blair won't come back to life."

"I know."

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

Blair pushed himself back in his chair as Dumke came toward him with a knife. The younger man's eyes closed as the blade came near his face. He felt the cold metal brush his skin and braced himself for the pain he was sure would soon follow. Instead, the gag in his mouth dropped away. His eyes snapped open as he turned to look at Dumke.

The older man walked over to the video camera and turned it on. He turned to Blair and said, "I'm sorry to have to do this, but in your line of work, I'm sure you appreciate the importance of supporting evidence."

Blair nodded. "You won't get it. I'm not immortal."

"Sure."

"Really. Aren't immortals supposed to be orphans?"

Dumke nodded.

"See. That proves it. I have a mom. Naomi Sandburg. Let me call her and we can settle this all nice and friendly."

Dumke shook his head. "Most immortals are very good at forging their papers. Some have even been known to get mortals to support the forgeries."

"Okay. Okay. Immortals heal very quickly, right? Well, I don't. I was shot in the leg just last year. I spent almost a week in the hospital."

"It wouldn't be the first time that an immortal reinjured himself to divert attention."

"By shooting myself over and over again?"

Dumke shrugged. "I wouldn't put it past any immortal."

"But there's a scar!"

"You could have gotten that before your first death."

Blair tried to think of another way to convince this man he wasn't immortal. None came to mind. Finally, he said, "How are you going to prove that I'm immortal?"

Dumke held up a small handgun. "A single bullet to the heart will suffice. The camera will capture the moment of death. It will be left on to capture the moment when you come back to life."

"What if I don't come back to life?"

"You will."

"No, Dumke, I won't. I keep telling you I'm not immortal."

"We'll see." The Watcher raised the gun.

"Wait a minute!"

Dumke lowered the gun.

"Look, you don't have to hit me in the heart. Wouldn't a minor flesh wound in my arm be enough? You can see if it heals quickly or not."

"True," Dumke said. He raised the gun again. "But it wouldn't be dramatic enough. Someone might claim that the healing was just special effects."

"Can't they say that anyway?"

"I'll take my chances."

He aimed at Blair's heart and started to pull the trigger when he heard a crash behind him. He spun around and saw Ryan slipping through a broken window. As the young man dropped to the ground, another man crashed through the door. Dumke recognized him as Sandburg's companion from Joe's.

He jerked back around, aimed his gun at Blair, and pulled the trigger. Richie dove at his friend, pushing Blair and the chair over as the gun fired. Blair gasped as they landed on the floor with a crash.

Before Dumke could pull the trigger again, Jim stepped over to him and placed his gun against the Watcher's temple. "If your finger as much as wiggles," he said, "I'll kill you."

Dumke's shoulders slumped and he dropped the gun to the floor.

Once the gun was on the ground, Jim kicked it out of the Watcher's reach. He then pulled out his handcuffs and motioned him over to another door in the room. Placing one cuff around Dumke's left wrist and one around the doorknob, Jim ensured the man would still be there when he was ready for him.

Jim hurried over to Blair just as Richie untied the last of the ropes. Before he had a chance to say anything he noticed the immortal's head jerk toward the door the detective had crashed through. Jim pulled his gun back out and turned to face the approaching immortal.

A hand was placed on Jim's arm. "It's okay," Richie said as an older man limped into the room followed by a familiar looking dark-haired man. "They're friends."

"You're from the bar," Jim said as one of the men limped over.

"Yeah. I'm Joe." He turned to introduce the man behind him. "This is Adam Pierson. We're Watchers. I think you know about us."

"A little," Jim admitted.

He leaned over to help Richie release Blair from his bonds. Once freed, he quickly scanned his friend. Satisfied that Blair appeared to be bruised from the fall but nothing more, Jim helped him to his feet. "Are you all right?" he asked, wanting the verbal reassurance.

"I'll live," Blair answered.

Jim turned back to the two newest occupants of the room. "What are you doing here?"

"We're here for Dumke," Joe replied.

"Dumke is going to jail for kidnapping and attempted murder," Jim stated. He started to turn away before turning back to the two men, saying, "And just why couldn't your group keep this nut under control?"

"Sorry about that," Pierson said. "We never expected him to go this far."

"You can't arrest him," Joe said.

"Why not?"

"Just listen to him."

Jim turned his attention back to the man handcuffed to the door.

"I shot him. Look at him! He's standing again," Dumke said. "I told you he was immortal."

"Blair's not immortal, you idiot," Richie said. "Do you see any blood? Your bullet missed."

"It didn't. I never miss." Dumke turned to Joe and Adam. "See, Joe. I told you he was Methos. It's all on tape."

Adam walked over to Dumke. "Why did you think he was immortal?"

"Richie reacted to him. I saw it."

Jim came over to stand next to Adam as the Watcher said, "You saw him react to me. Blair isn't immortal."

Dumke laughed. "And you are? Do you think I'm crazy? Immortals aren't Watchers."

"Yes to both your questions," Adam said. He pulled a pocket knife out and flipped it open. "How do you know immortals aren't Watchers?"

"It would never happen," Dumke swore, his eyes riveted to the knife in Pierson's hand. "Never."

Adam didn't respond. He pushed up one of his sleeves and then pressed the knife against his arm. In one swift motion, Adam sliced open his arm from elbow to wrist. He held the oozing arm in front of Dumke and said, "Pay close attention. You don't want to miss this."

Dumke looked into Adam's face and then his eyes jerked back to the still-bleeding arm. Jim's attention was also focused on the arm. As both men watched, a small spark of lightening seemed to bounce back and forth across the wound. As the lightening flashed, the wound closed. It took only a minute for the blood on Adam's arm to be the only remaining evidence that he'd ever cut himself.

"No," Dumke whispered. "You're a Watcher. You can't be immortal."

"You really shouldn't look at the world in such a black and white way," Adam said. "I was the immortal Richie reacted to the other night. Not Sandburg."

Dumke sagged to the floor, muttering, "Immortals aren't Watchers. They can't be. Can't be."

Adam wiped the blood from his arm and rolled his sleeve back down. He turned to Jim, saying, "The man's insane. He'd never go to trial."

"We'll let the courts decide."

"I'm sorry, detective," Joe said as he came over to the three men. "I can't let you take him."

"He committed a crime. He has to be punished for it."

"He will be," Adam said.

"Jim," Blair said from Richie's side. "You can't arrest him. He'd tell everything. He'd threaten not only the Watchers but other immortals as well."

Jim clenched his teeth. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out. "Blair, this man tried to kill you. Don't you want to see him taken off the street?"

Blair looked from Jim to Richie and then to Joe and Adam. "I don't think he'll ever be on the street again," he said in a slightly uneasy voice.

Jim's head snapped back to the Watchers. "Is he right about that?"

"We take care of our own, detective," Joe answered.

"It has to be done this way," Adam said.

"No," Jim said. "No way in hell and I going to let you two take this man and execute him."

"We aren't murderers. But he could cause too much damage to simply be allowed to walk away. Not only to us but to everyone," Joe said. "What do you think would happen if word got out that immortals walked among us."

"Not everyone would be as level-headed as you are," Adam added.

"Look at what almost happened here," Joe said. "Would you want innocent people killed because someone thought they were immortal?"

"What *will* happen to him?" Jim asked.

"We have a special facility for people like Dumke. He won't be causing any more harm."

Jim shook his head. He stood silent, his jaw clenching and unclenching. After a few moments he walked over to Blair, put his arm around the smaller man's shoulders, and said, "I'm taking Sandburg home. I'll be back to take Dumke to prison for his crimes." He led his partner out of the house.

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

"Are you sure you're all right?" Jim asked as he drove Blair home.

"Just shaken up a bit. I'm fine, Jim."

Jim glanced at his friend, noting his pale complexion. "I can go back. Arrest Dumke."

Blair sighed. "The question is, which would be the lesser of two evils?"

"Arresting Dumke and sending him to prison or the insane asylum wouldn't be evil."

"But the damage he could cause would be."

"We can't be sure what he'd say could cause any harm."

"Sure it would. Mankind is terrified of what they don't understand. Even the slightest hint of possible immortals would cause a witch hunt. Immortals would either be killed outright or turned into lab rats. I couldn't live with that."

"Blair, can you live with this?"

Blair sighed again, turning to stare out the truck window. "I don't know."

The End

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