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The Master
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Highlander 1.2: Remembrances

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November 2006

The Roman National Museum was almost overwhelming in its size as she approached the main entry, moving forward 24 year old Karen Jastrow moved with a purpose, ignoring the artifacts and relics on display she made her way towards the area where students listened to lectures. By the time she entered the speaker was halfway through his presentation, she didn’t really care all that much about the subject mater she had come to see the speaker. She had received instructions from her grandmother to find him if she should need help, she didn’t know why but her grandmother had been very clear on the mater. As she was standing there he spotted her and his Green eyes seemed to focus on her before he continued with his presentation but always looking back at her. When the lecture had finally ended she waited as everyone filed out of the room until the only people remaining was an older man dressed in a suit who seemed to be either a teacher or someone in charge, Karen couldn’t tell, a young blonde woman who held the binder that contained the speakers notes to her chest as she listened to the conversation between the two men, she was also dressed up wearing a blue skirt with a blouse and matching jacket. Once the conversation ended the man she had come to see led the woman up the aisle towards the rooms exit, coming to a stop in front of her. Up close she was intimidated by the man, he stood a good 10 inches taller then her and appeared to be in great shape though under the suit coat it was hard to tell. From here his green eyes were colder and appeared to look right into her, and had an old look to them, something she had seen in her own grandparent’s eyes.

“Dr. McAsh?” she cleared her throat and stepped forward.

“Yes,” the man smiled warmly. “I take it you want to talk to me?”

“Yes I do,” she wasn’t sure how to speak to him, she wasn’t quite sure she even believed what she was about to say.

“Did you enjoy the lecture?” he seemed to know she was feeling uneasy as he tried to calm her down.

“I did,” She relaxed a little happy to think about something else. “I didn’t understand most of it but it was entertaining.”

“Did you like the power point” he stuck his hands into his pockets and nodded towards the young woman next to him. “Lindsey here thought it was too much.”

“I thought it made things clearer,” She acknowledged, ancient languages weren’t really anything she knew about, she was a music major in school, but he made it easy to understand and something that seemed interesting.

“See, I told you,” He pulled a hand out of his pocket and pointed at the woman he called Lindsey.

“I guess I was wrong,” Lindsey smiled warmly apparently used to him getting pulled into conversations.

“We better go, Dr. Langston is waiting for us to leave,” He pointed a thumb towards the older man he had been talking to earlier. “Walk with us; I’m sure you didn’t come to talk about languages.”

“Yeah,” she followed as he led the way out of hall and headed towards a door at the end of the hall. “This is the office they gave me for when I’m working here. Lindsey why don’t you see if you can find some tea for our guest, she looks a bit thirsty.”

“Um just some water,” She told the woman who promptly left leaving her alone with him.

“So Miss,” he sat on the edge of the desk in front of her.

“Jastrow, Karen,” she was starting to tense up again

“I’m not filing you,” he laughed. “Just relax and tell me what you want to tell me.”

“My grandmother said I should look you up, Sarah Jastrow,” Karen fumbled with her purse as she tried to pull a note out. “She said I should show you this if she ever sent me to you.”

“I see,” He took the note and opened it to give it a read. “Yes, I think I may be of some help. I know of Sarah, though not by that surname.”

October 1941…

“Son of a !@#$,” Jacob Andrews groaned under his breath as he pulled a long rod out of his side. It wasn’t his best of landing, certainly not what they taught him in flight school, but it was to be expected after he jumped from his damaged Spitfire and a German shoots his parachute leaving him to fall a thousand feet to the ground. Once he was healed he slowly stood up and removed his coveralls, thankful he wore his uniform under them and discovered that he had broken his gun by landing on it. Once he was ready to leave he made his way to the door of the building he had crashed through and impaled himself on a metal rod, which some nut had left leaning against a table, and stepped out into the French night. He didn’t know how long he had been out but it was clear some time had passed; walking down the road he tried to keep his head down but knew anyone coming by would know he was an RAF pilot.

“Hold,” his fears were soon realized as he heard the sound of a car followed by a crisp German voice came from behind him. Not wanting to act with out knowing what he was up against he slowly turned around to find a lone soldier standing next to Nazi Volkswagen-Kublewagen. He was about as tall as he was and was dressed as an officer, in his hand he held a Lugar that was currently pointed at him. The Officer used his free hand to wave him towards him, keeping his hands at his side he came closer “So you are a British Pilot, I have no time to deal with you.”

Reacting quickly he stepped in and grabbed the gun putting it in between the two men pointing towards the ground, as the struggled it went off and both men fell to the ground. Getting up Jacob could see that the German had been shot in the thigh and was bleeding heavily, not wasting any time he searched the car but couldn’t find anything he could change into. Turning back to the man who had stopped him he discovered that he had died, making the most of it he stripped off the man’s coat and shirt and quickly threw way his own blood stained coat and shirt and threw the dead man’s on.

“Doesn’t match the pants that well,” He muttered to himself, but he wasn’t going to take the man’s ruined pants to complete the costume. It was dark enough and he would be in the car which would hide the fact he wasn’t dressed as a Nazi from the waist down. Placing the gun in the holster he stepped into the car and carried on down the road. Driving on for a few miles the sun was just coming up as he came across a check in point with three soldiers standing around as a fourth was clearly talking to a driver they had stopped, as he approached he felt the presence of an Immortal. Pulling up next to them he looked over to see a look of shock on both the driver and his passenger’s face.

“Hail,” The head of the post turned and gave the Nazi salute.

“What’s going on here,” Jacob returned the salute but remained sitting.

“A routine check,” The man explained as one of the other men stopped suddenly as he walked around the back of the truck.

“Jews,” The Soldier started screaming after pulling open the doors. The man who had been talking to Jacob suddenly turned and made a motion sending the other two running towards the truck as the driver threw open the door knocking the one on his side to the ground. Using the commotion Jacob pulled his weapon and shot the solder in the back of the head and jumped out of the car as the soldier behind the truck opened fire with his rifle. The Passenger jumped out of the car and fired the Tommy gun he had been carrying at the soldier who had come to his side of the truck. As the Driver took out his man Jacob fired at the remaining soldier sending him into the passenger’s view and he cut him down with a several rounds. Once the fighting ended Jacob approached the driver with his hand extended.

“I see you’re still rescuing people Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod,” The driver took his hand and shook it.

“General?” the passenger came around the back of the truck and locked eyes with Jacob.

“Ah Mr. MacLeod,” Jacob shook the other man’s hand as well.

“I thought you were a German,” Duncan looked Jacob over noticing at once his tattered pants and boots were clearly that of a British soldier.

“Just a cover,” Jacob took off the jacket and tossed it back at the shot up car. “Got shot down a few hours ago and ran into a German Officer who decided he wouldn’t be needing the car or uniform. What about you and Connor here, rescuing Jewish refugees?”

“The Nazi’s are rounding them all up for some final solution,” Duncan replied. “My contacts have been rescuing families at risk and getting them somewhere safe.”

“Safe is hard to find these days,” Jacob commented.

“Excuse me,” a young girl, no more then 18, said in French as she approached then. “Can we get going?”

“Sure,” Duncan replied in perfect French. “General, this is Sarah Hershlag, you’ll be riding in back with her family if you wish to come.”

“It’s a pleasure; you can call me Jacob,” He smiled gently as he shook her hand before waving his other hand towards the shot up car he had acquired “I don’t think the car will be going anywhere and I sure don’t feel like walking so I’ll be happy to join you.”

“Have the rifle,” Connor handed a German rifle and some ammo that he had collected from the post.

“Let’s get in the truck,” Jacob threw the ammo into a pouch along with some extra ammo for the Lugar he pulled from the car and the bodies.


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The Master
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Re: Highlander 1.2: Remembrances


“Hershlag,” Kyros had been looking off towards the bookcase along the back wall as he thought back. “Sarah Hershlag.”

“Yes, that was her maiden name,” Karen nodded.

“So what can I do for you?” Kyros handed the note back to her.

“A man that looks a lot like a Nazi that held her and her family has been stalking us,” Karen revealed. “My Grandmother believes it’s him.”

“I see,” Kyros’ face turned from caring to cold as he stood up and walked around the desk. “Did he follow you here?”

“I don’t know,” Karen looked scared as she realized he could be here. “I didn’t want to leave my Grandmother but I left her with my Boyfriend and brother.”

“She’ll be safe,” Kyros knew who she had been talking about, Werner Von Roon, a German born several hundred years before, he had a thing for younger woman which was why he was fixated on Sarah and likely why he’s targeting both her and Karen. As he stood there Lindsey returned with a cup of tea and a bottle of water and placed both on the desk. Quickly finishing the tea he picked up the messenger bag that was lying in the chair and threw his notes into it. “Come on we better get going.”

As the three of them walked through the museum Kyros felt the buzz of another immortal and before long he locked eyes with the man he feared had come, Werner Von Roon. For a moment they just stood there eyeing each other up neither one saying a word, Kyros handed his bag to Lindsey who quickly reached into it to grab the gun he always kept on him but kept her hand in the bag as not to alarm anyone. “I have to say I am surprised to see you here, should have expected something when she came right here.”

“You need to leave,” Kyros made sure to keep in between Werner and Karen. “I can have security here in seconds.”

“And say what?” Werner made a step forward.

“Antonio,” Kyros waved at a passing guard who came over

“Yes, Dr. McAsh,” he replied in Italian. “What seems to be the problem?”

“This man is bothering this young woman here, he won’t stop following her,” Kyros replied also in Italian pointing over to Werner. “Could you have him escorted out the building while I get her out the back?”

“No Problem,” Antonio called over several other guards and grabbed hold of Werner.

“What’s going on here?” he called out in English as he was dragged away.

“That’s what happens when you don’t study,” Kyros remarked as Lindsey relaxed and pulled her hand from the bag. The group soon made it to the private parking lot and climbed into his Maserati and sped off away from the Museum making sure they weren’t followed.

“Who was that?” Lindsey sitting in the passenger seat finally asked after several minutes of silence.

“The man stalking us,” Karen replied from the back seat.

“A soldier,” Kyros started, “He follows orders to the letter believing in the cause of his nation. He’s the man I should have killed.”

November 1941…

Standing Guard outside the farmhouse the group was housed up in Kyros’ keen senses had made a mental list of everything in the area and would know the instant anyone was coming. Clutching the Tommy gun he had just completed a circle around the house and found Sarah waiting for him at the door with a cup of tea.

“Everything okay?” She asked in the broken English she had learned in the 2 weeks they have been together. After getting picked up by the group they had traveled south west using the help of allies to avoid Nazi patrols. While they were no longer in Occupied France and not in as much danger they still had to keep on guard, the government in what was now Vichy France were working with the Nazis and if the SS knew there were fugitives around they would help them find them.

“It’s quiet,” he commented after finishing his drink and handed the cup back to her. Not wanting to worry her Kyros was unsettled; it was to quiet and though he along with his friends Duncan and Connor MacLeod had tried to keep them alert a sense of compliancy had come over the refugees. As the two were making small talk, down the dirt road Kyros could just make out a faint cloud of something coming down the road. “Sarah why don’t you go and get Duncan for a second, I need to discuss some plans for tonight’s protection.”

“Okay,” Sarah turned, alone Kyros stepped in the direction of the cloud and was soon joined by his old friend.

“Sarah said you wanted to talk about tonight’s protection,” Duncan looked off in the direction Kyros was looking and also noticed the cloud. Instantly he knew the real reason Kyros had asked him to come outside. “What do you think?”

“Two maybe three trucks,” Kyros looked over at the house. “Depending on how far they are.”

“Which is?” Duncan had grown accustomed to his almost supernatural ability to make out things miles away. Clearly something that was honed over years of living off the land, which was something he had done but Kyros had clearly had more time then he did.

“Can we get out of here in Five Minutes?” Kyros looked down at the Tommy gun and then back towards the growing cloud.

“Doubt it,” Duncan answered truthfully, the group had gotten used to the house and settled in. In the back of his mind he kicked himself for staying here so long.

“Work fast,” Kyros cocked the Tommy gun and ran off towards one of the other buildings to give him a better view of the road. Duncan turned and ran towards the house and ordered everyone to gather what they could and get to the truck.

“What’s up?” Connor MacLeod came out of the back room with Charles Hershlag who had been working on the radio.

“Someone’s coming, two maybe three trucks,” Duncan told his clan mate. “Jacob says we have 5 minutes to get out of here.”

“Charles, help your parents and sister pack up all the food and goods you can,” Connor quickly fell into his role as leader of the group. “Duncan, get the truck running and ready to go.”

“What about you?” Duncan stopped at the door and turned back to Connor.

“I’m going to join the General and see what’s up.” Connor grabbed the Bren light machine gun that they had acquired through friends in the British Intelligence service. “Don’t forget the weapons.”

Duncan watched as Connor ran carrying the weapon before running to the now modified truck, the passenger window had been removed and replaced by a shield of lead with a slit for a gun to go so who ever was sitting there could fire on any soldiers in front of them. The rear of the truck was also armed with a Vickers Machine Gun, from the same source, set up so someone could fire on anyone behind them. The body of the truck had also been reinforced to prevent any one from being injured in a firefight. As he was getting in behind the wheel the family was exiting the house and hurrying into the Truck just as the sounds of Gunfire erupted from up the road.

As Connor approached the building Duncan had said Kyros had set up his defensive position, he saw him running back from the open road and towards him. After a brief discussion of their strategies, Connor set up in a storage shed while Kyros hid behind a low stonewall. He couldn’t help but smile as he recalled the first time he had met his friend, he was a Captain in The Stonewall Brigade as they were called. An aid to General Thomas Jackson and field commander, until Jackson’s death in 1863 he then turned up in A.P. Hill’s Command after Gettysburg which was where the two had met in person. Now nearly one hundred years later he is hiding behind a stonewall once again, only this time waiting for the Nazis. By now the two men could clearly hear the sounds of the trucks that they had been expecting for a few minutes now; not waiting any longer Connor set the machine gun up on a table and aimed it out the window. Across the road to the farmhouse Kyros too had set up the Thomson Submachine gun to begin firing as soon as the trucks got in range. As the trucks came closer the lead car slowed down and an older looking man stood up, from Kyros’ position he could feel that the man was an immortal. Cocking the gun Kyros came up from behind the wall and opened fire, hitting the immortal in the chest before taking out the driver and the other passenger in the lead car. Over the shock of the attack the men in the truck behind the car quickly jumped out and fired on Kyros, with the men distracted Connor opened fire on the crowd. With confusion overcoming the squad Kyros jumped up and added another round of fire into the group who had now gone behind the truck for cover. Bending down behind the wall again Kyros picked up a detonator that had been lying next to him and pushed the plunger down setting off a series of explosives along the road destroying the truck and killing the rest of the soldiers. Both Connor and Kyros were surprised to find that only a couple minutes had passed since the start of the battle as they packed up their gear. Kyros however had pulled out his sword and was making his way towards the ruined car where the immortal had been killed.

“We don’t have time,” Connor grabbed the man by his shoulder and spun him back towards the house where the Truck was waiting for them. He started running towards the truck with out Kyros who was still standing in the road. “Come on man.”

With one last look at the slaughter that had taken place, Kyros placed his sword back in with his gear and took off towards the truck after Connor.


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Re: Highlander 1.2: Remembrances

November 1941…

Coming to a stop, the group jumped out to make sure they were okay, they had driven for nearly 20 miles and were sure they had escaped. Leaving the family to rest the three Immortals gathered at the front of the truck as Duncan pulled out a map.

“So what now,” Connor broke the silence.

“We need to keep moving,” Duncan looked over the map but could find no friendly locations in the area.

“We’re running out of places to go,” Kyros kept his eyes to the land behind them.

“We keep going south,” Duncan pointed towards Spain. “They’re technically neutral.”

“Francisco Franco is a friend of Hitler’s,” Connor knew Duncan was right to keep going south but he didn’t think Spain was the answer. “He supports the Nazis.”

“Portugal,” Duncan replied. “We can get on a boat and head to South America.”

“Better but we have to cross through Spain to get there,” Connor agreed, it was a sound plan, they would take the family to Brazil and from there decide the next course of action.

“We got incoming,” Kyros announced as he brought the Lee-Enfield rifle up to aim at the approaching target. Who ever it was was moving fast, to fast to be a normal car or truck which meant it was likely a motorcycle.

Following Kyros’ lead Connor and Duncan both pulled their rifles and aimed them at the incoming target. Once the person was close enough the three Immortals felt the buzz of another immortal and knew it was the man on the bike. The Man stepped off the bike and approached the group, his hand on the gun in his holster.

“I am Werner Von Roon,” the man said in the thick German Accent. “You are harboring Jews, you will turn them over to me now.”

“Yea, you and what army,” Kyros kept his rifle pointed on the German.

“They will be here soon,” He ordered. “You can not escape again.”

Hearing the commotion outside the truck Sarah took hold of one of the pistols and exited the back of the truck and pointed the pistol at Werner. As Werner was distracted she pulled the trigger but missed, alerted to her presence he pulled his pistol and fired. Before the shot could hit her Charles shoved her down saving her life, as soon as Von Roon fired Kyros pulled the trigger and hit Von Roon point black in the chest. Once the German was down Duncan ran to towards the back of the truck to find Charles down, a bullet having ripped through his chest, he knew at once that there was nothing he could do to save him.

“I’m so sorry,” Sarah clutched her brother’s hand

“It was better this way,” Charles gasped. “Better to die saving you then in some ghetto.”

“Is there anything you can do?” She pleaded with Duncan who simply shook his head.

“We need to go, get them on the truck,” Kyros pulled out his sword and approached Von Roon’s body.

“Jacob,” Duncan stood up and turned to his friend. “Not this way.”

“He’s a Nazi Duncan,” Kyros didn’t care anymore and prepared to take Von Roon’s head. “We don’t have time to wait for him to wake up, and he won’t stop.”

“Okay,” Duncan didn’t like it, his honor was important to him. The honor of battle was something he respected and the fact he would take a man’s head with out giving him a fair fight made him sick but his friend was right, they had to go now and he wasn’t going to stop.

As Duncan fired up the truck again Kyros lifted the sword up over his head but before he could take his head a shot rang out hitting Kyros in the chest. Falling to the ground, Kyros dropped his sword and pulled a pistol out of his holster and fired at the now approaching Vichy army who had been brought in by Von Roon. Crawling to the truck he pulled himself up and fired a couple more times before stumbling into the back of the truck. The family was at a loss as they struggled to come to terms with the death of Charles and now the apparent death of one of their protectors, matters were made worse by the fact a squad of soldiers were hot on their tail. As Ismail moved forward to take hold of the gun he heard a sharp gasp.

“Son of a !@#$,” Kyros groaned as he pushed himself up to his hands and knees and discovered the remaining Hershlag’s starring at him a look of shock and disbelief over their faces. “Just knocked the wind out of me.”

“The Gun!” Ismail exclaimed as he pointed out the back of the truck at the soldiers gaining on them.

Turning around Kyros took hold of the machine gun and opened fire hitting the closest approaching truck in the engine causing the truck to come to a stop only to be rear ended by one of the trucks behind it. He then turned the gun on the other truck and fired on it hitting the passenger and shredding the canvas covering for the bed of the truck where the soldiers were seated. Getting a grenade from nearby he pulled the pin and tossed it towards the oncoming truck, which failed to be notice as the driver was to busy trying to keep from being shot, and exploded just as the truck passed over it. Once the smoke had cleared Kyros let go of the machine gun upon seeing no more trucks or soldiers coming.

After several miles of quiet driving the truck came to a halt again to allow everyone to stretch their legs which allowed Kyros to see the damage that had been inflected when he was shot, a half dollar sized hole remained in his blood stained shirt. Pulling the Shirt off he discovered the bullet had put a baseball sized hole in the back of the shirt and from the blood spatter on the side of the truck he knew where the bullet had ended up.

“Ouch,” Connor came over to see the shirt. “That was quite a shot.”

“Surprised I even got up,” Kyros threw the ruined shirt way and put on the stolen Nazi shirt.

“What they say,” Connor pointed off towards the family who stood away from them but wouldn’t take their eyes off of them.

“Nothing,” Kyros could see the look of shock and distrust on Ismail’s face, it was a look he had seen all too often.

“The Trucks good,” Duncan came up to the two men as they talked.

“I think it might be better if I rode up front,” Kyros continued to look at Ismail

“I agree,” Connor looked from the family back towards Duncan. “They need to be told something and I don’t think they’ll listen to a man they saw die.”


By the time Kyros got to the front of the building Von Roon was no where to be found which meant he had to have gone to the back door. Running over the ally where the door was he found Antonio lying on the ground, a trickle of blood running from a gash on his forehead with Karen on her knees next to him. Lindsey was held against the wall, Von Roon’s free hand around her throat while in his other hand he held a gun on Sarah who had fallen backwards and was now sitting on the ground.

“Von Roon,” Kyros stepped into the ally causing him to release Lindsey. “Enough of this, we have something that needs to be finished.”

“Don’t move or the old lady gets it,” Werner continued to look at Sarah as he held the gun on her.

“Then you die,” Werner could hear the hammer click on a gun making him turn to find Kyros pointing a Colt pistol at his head. “Lindsey are you okay?”

“Yeah,” her voice was horse but she seemed uninjured.

“Get Sarah out of here,” Kyros continued to hold the gun on Werner. “Karen, help Antonio as well and no mater what do not come back.”

“Dad,” Lindsey whispered as she walked by with Sarah

“Don’t worry about me,” Kyros smiled and motioned with his head to get her to leave.

“So will you shoot me again?” Werner now turned to face Kyros.

“Two times I shot you but was stopped from taking your head; I think fate is telling me this will be fair.” Kyros un-cocked the pistol and put it back into his coat pocket.

“Should have killed me when you had the chance,” Werner pulled a military saber out and prepared to battle.

Kyros struck first, thrusting the weapon at Werner’s chest for a quick kill but he was quick and was able to avoid the blow and took a swing at Kyros’ head and missed. Kyros moved in close and drove his knee into Werner’s gut sending him stumbling backwards and followed up his blow with a kick to Werner’s knee. Taken aback by the level of ferocity in his attacks, Werner threw a punch that hit Kyros on the jaw sending him backwards. Coming in for the attack Werner brought his saber down towards Kyros’ head but failed to see the bowie knife that Kyros had pulled from his boot and stabbed into Werner’s side. Wounded Werner made another wild swing at Kyros who ducked under the swing and again stabbed Werner with the knife this time at the waste. Howling in pain Werner fell backwards, blood running down his legs and into his shoes causing him to lose traction. Kyros sung the sword at Werner, who blocked the blow with his sword opening him up for another strike from the knife which sliced across his elbow. Trying to keep his distance Werner made another wild swing while trying to keep out of range of Kyros’ knife, jumping backwards Kyros watched as Werner’s blood stained shoes slipped out from under him sending him crashing to the ground. Trying to get up Werner looked up to see Kyros’ sword coming straight at his neck and then nothing as the blade sliced through his neck and decapitated him. Stepping away from the body, Kyros waited as the ally seemed to explode with Werner’s Quickening causing light bulbs and windows to explode in the eruption.


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Re: Highlander 1.2: Remembrances

Lindsey waited next to Karen in the waiting room of the Hospital as the Doctors examined Sarah and Antonio. The Drive over had been uneventful and outside of the few standard questions when they arrived things had been pretty smooth. But she couldn’t keep from worrying about Kyros; he was her father, not her real father but he had adopted her when her parents were killed and now he was going to fight another man to the death. As her mind raced a doctor came out to speak to Karen, to tell her everything was fine with both Antonio and her Grandmother.

“I’m glad your grandmother isn’t hurt,” Lindsey was relieved that something had gone well.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Karen put her hand on Lindsey’s shoulder.

“Of course I am,” Kyros entered the room, his clothes a little disheveled and dirty but otherwise fine. “You shouldn’t worry so much.”

“Someone needs too,” Lindsey wrapped her arms around Kyros in a hug.

“How are Sarah and Antonio?” Kyros turned his attention to Karen.

“Antonio as a concussion and needed some stitches,” she revealed. “Mostly he’s upset that he couldn’t protect Grandma. She is okay as well, just some bruising from when she fell. She was asking for you.”

With Karen leading the way Kyros walked down to the room where they were keeping Sarah. As he approached the bed, her tired face lit up and a smile spread across her face as she sat up to give a light hug to her savior.

“You never stop saving me,” she said in a soft voice.

“I never will,” Kyros smiled back before bending over to give her a light kiss on her forehead. “Werner won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“I’m so relieved,” Sarah seemed to be at ease for the first time since he saw her.

“You need your rest so I’m going to go,” Kyros took hold of her hand and squeezed it gently before turning and heading to the door.

“Who was she to you?” Lindsey asked as left Sarah and Karen alone in the room.

“A friend,” Kyros looked over his shoulder.

November 1941…

Standing at the boarder between France and Spain, Kyros looked out over the landscape and smiled as he recalled the last time he passed through here. It had been a week since their run in with the Nazis and the death of Charles and in that time the group had continued to be on the move but now it was time to stop.

“Funny,” Kyros looked off to the East.

“What is?” Sarah had grown closer to Kyros since discovering the truth; the two had spent a lot of time just talking. Despite their early distrust they accepted him for who he was, the man who had done everything he could to keep them safe and out of Nazi hands.

“I grew up just a few miles that way,” Kyros pointed off towards the east. “A place that’s called Tende now.”

“We should go,” Sarah was very interested in the stories he told of his long life and found the idea that they were close to where he lived intriguing.

“No, there isn’t anything left,” Kyros shook himself from the past and picked up his bag.

“Where will you go?” Sarah asked sadly, Kyros had decided it was time to leave after they escaped but waited until they reached the boarder.

“I can’t do this underground resistance stuff,” Kyros confessed, he had always been a warrior fighting in battles and leading men. “I need to get back into the fight.”

“How?” Sarah didn’t need to remind him that officially Jacob Andrews was killed in action.

“Figured I’d head to the coast,” Kyros started leading Sarah back to the group. “Catch a ship and head to Brazil, and then work my way north to the United States.”

“The US isn’t in the war though,” Ismail commented.

“They’ll be in soon enough,” Kyros didn’t know when but it was only a matter of time before they entered the fight. “Happened before.”

“Thank you for everything,” Mary stepped forward and kissed Kyros on the cheek.

“Yes,” Ismail shook Kyros’ hand. “Thanks for everything; I know Charles would thank you as well.”

“I’ll be seeing you,” Connor followed Ismail’s lead and shook his hand.

“We’ll meet again,” Duncan clutched Kyros hand. “Good to see you on the right side for a change.”

“Goodbye and thank you,” Sarah hugged Kyros as hard as she could as the tears ran down her face.

“You take care, if there is anything you or any member of your family needs at any time look me up,” Kyros saluted the group and then turned and started walking into Spain.

The End…


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