you shouldna come back, connor. connor feels the tension in kase's voice.
you knew. you knew what would happen if you came back. i am not to blame for this.
god help you. father alasdair rainey, the local priest and inquisitor, steps inside, bent over a silver cane. he's gross, corpulent and perpetually short of breath. a nasty nose boil figures prominently in his overall appearance. villagers of varying stripe crowd nervously behind them.
through the infinite compassion of our lord god, you are entitled one final opportunity to renounce all that is unholy, to declare connor macleod not of your loins and help put an end to the darkness that has been cast upon this land. how say you, caiolin macleod? caiolin lifts her head, pale and beatific.
you won't need this where you're going. connor grabs at the iron window-bars. shakes them until the mortar chips from their moorings. the ruddy-faced executioner solemnly approaches caiolin. unseen by the bloodlusting crowd, he takes out a small leather sack and drapes it around her neck by the drawstring. he tucks it under her coarse woolen robe and pats it flush against her chest.
father.  father, please-- father--! rainey's eyes open slightly.
your son. it's your son-- jacob. rainey stares back as if a veil has suddenly been lifted. and what he now sees terrifies him to death.
i'm your-- he stops. rainey's eyes are frozen. dead. connor returns to the flaming pyre, refueling his rage with the sight of his mother's blackened corpse. >kase scoops up a discarded sword, leaps to his feet and charges connor, bellowing like a madman. >connor whirls around with his sword, making kase impale himself on the blade. kase stares wide-eyed and gagging at connor's smoldering visage-- the depthless black pools of hate that shroud his eyes. it's the last thing jacob kase will ever see. connor opens his fingers and lets him drop, the sword hilt still jutting from kase's chest. gathering up several chunks of flaming timber, connor heaves them onto the straw-covered rooftops, setting them instantly ablaze. in short order, the village is transformed into a giant swirling inferno. silhouetted against the crimson sky, connor lifts caiolin's body and turns his back on glenfinnan for the last time. dissolve to:
look at you. you'd think after half a millenium, you'd learn to keep that you'd learn to keep that temper of yours in check. gone is any trace of brogue. he's a fully-assimilated new yorker now. connor's fingers tighten around the swordgrip.
if all i wanted was to kill you, you'd have been dead a very long time ago, connor. something roils under kase's controlled exterior. a rage every bit as consuming as connor's. kase but your death alone could never appease the innocent souls you slaughtered. flash to several of glenfinnan's villagers being mowed down by connor's mindless fury. kase it couldn't even begin to appease mine. flash to kase as he drops to his knees, gagging blood, run through by connor's blade. kase worst of all, you murdered a man of god. who raised me as his son. flash to a father rainey as connor brings his sword cleaving down on him. kase . and no punishment conceived by man can ever atone for that.
look back over the endless travesties of your life and you'll see me. always there, waiting in the shadows. when friends and lovers are wiped from your sight, i'm there. kase when those you cherish die abruptly and for no reason, i'm there. and when a handful of misguided and pathetic idiots just happen to share your own private hell.  guess who? he walks a full circle around connor. all the while kase addresses connor, faith never takes her eyes off duncan. kase but if you think it ends here, my ancient friend, you're wrong. very.  very.  wrong. kase turns back to faith. pulls his sword and without warning slices it across her throat. faith reflexively gasps, stumbles backward, leaving--
thought you might be wanting this. i kept it for you.  flash to connor's mother, bound to the stake as kase rips the crucifix from her neck. back to scene: connor stares down at the crucifix now in his open palm. kase for old times' sake. kase puts an arm around faith. kase want to find me again, connor? just put your hands together.  kase and pray. he gives faith a little shove and they both start downhill.
i would grant you absolution. if i were a better man. he turns and disappears out the back. connor follows. right past
the ancient samurai vowed never to draw blood in anger. it defiled their sense of purpose. of course they're also somewhat extinct. he steps fearlessly up to connor, places his neck against connor's swordblade.  . . . just like he did with a certain late immortal named carlos.
would you slaughter an unarmed man of god again, connor? would that finally put your soul to rest? then go ahead. send me home. blood pounds with the rage pulsing through connor's veins. kase what's stopping you? guilt? the nagging sense that maybe you, more than i, deserve to die? dawson's car pulls up in the background. duncan jumps out. kase or somewhere along the way did you just lose your nerve? connor's sword digs into kase's neck. breaks skin.
you heard him. no immortal can interfere with another's duel.
go ahead-- what better chance than now? take your shot.
do it. for your sweet mother.
i've taken more heads than you can possibly imagine. his sword whistles across connor's face, opens a three inch gash over his eye. kase do you really want a taste of all those accumulated quickenings? connor stumbles backward again, blinded by his own dripping blood. knows beyond a shadow of a doubt he's doomed. duncan knows it too. and it's killing him to watch. still connor won't go down easy. he manages a brief offensive, walking kase backward on his toes. kase puts one hand behind his back, fencing-style, and goes to work on connor's torso, crosshatching him in blood. connor lunges wildly. kase parries effortlessly. kase now opens up a blinding barrage on connor. it's like duelling against lightning, so quick and unpredictable are kase's strikes. constantly off balance, connor still manages to nick kase in the cheek. kase i'd almost forgotten what that felt like. thank you. he now turns it on full. drives connor up against a wall and pins him with his swordtip. his eyes go impossibly cold.
i want you to think back to this moment in the endless nights ahead. and know that every time you close your eyes, from now to eternity, i'll be there. ripping apart the ones you care about most. he removes his sword and steps back. kase it's not over, connor macleod. it will never, never be over. he turns and walks back toward the church. duncan does not step aside to let him pass-- their shoulders bump. kase you, on the other hand, are on borrowed time. he continues on, past the other immortals who have gathered to watch the unfolding spectacle. one-by-one, they turn and file back into the church behind kase. connor stares into duncan's eyes as if wanting to say something. can't. instead, he turns and starts limping out across the empty lot. feeling the presence of another immortal, duncan slowly looks over at
you were with him. he curls his nose, as if he can still smell the sin. kase woman is a temple built upon a sewer.
remember what you were when i first found you? a whore. now look. a liberated woman.
be grateful i don't this minute remove your pretty little heafod.
adrenalin's good for the sex drive.
thought maybe you needed a little more excitement. you know, spice up our relationship a bit.
why do i have to prove anything to you? .  as his foot flattens the accelerator. engine whines. kase i can have anything i want already.
not really.
does this mean it's over? dissolve to:
who left the back door open?
where's cracker bob? he was supposed to be watching the back. calvin and sarge both shrug. kase infants. he whirls, stalks out.
shut up. he reaches forward and jerks the sword out of bob, and with it
a toast.  all heads turn. gun freezes in winston's lap, just hidden from view. kase i see tonight as a celebration of the spirit. here's to all of you who continue to stand by me.  . . . even those who might waver at times. winston stiffens, fears that kase is on to him. and when calvin averts his gaze, he knows. still, he raises his glass. as do the others. kase you are my flock. you nourish my soul. it's now or never for winston. his moment of truth. kase's eyes slowly drift over to meet his. slow motion, kase tips back his glass and drinks, eyes locked on winston. winston responds in kind, gulping down his wine as he slips the gun back into his pocket. he shoves off from the table.
where you going?
sit sit. i'm not through with my toast yet.
i'm almost finished. sit. winston reaches for the doorknob. locked. he swivels back. sees death in jacob kase's eyes. his death. kase it'll all be over in a few more seconds. a cold spike of fear shoots through every single one of them.  . . . as kase continues. kase youve all been a part of a great quest. a four hundred year quest for justice. he lifts up an exquisitely-crafted sword. kase and here, my friends, is the instrument of that justice. it's called the "colichmarde." finest sword known to man. the blade whistles upright. kase blessed by popes and baptized in blood. i only break it out for special occasions. he kisses the perfect cross formed by the juncture of blade and quillons. kase it sings like an angel. just listen. winston jerks for his gun. in a sudden blur of steel and blood, kase beheads winston and dispatches the next two of his stunned acolytes with blinding efficiency. tongues of liquid energy coil up and around kase's body. but he keeps right on coming. the others scatter like roaches. essence pulses off walls and ceiling, shattering statuary, hurling furniture.  . . before merging with the walking inferno that is now jacob kase. his sword blazes through the remaining victims, trailing streaks of blue fire. one after another, they drop headless to the concrete, triggering
where else could stir the blood of a scotsman too long of this earth and too far from home? kase picks his way across the uneven ground, unable to see beyond the reach of his own arm. kase i can nae get enough of it. he draws his sword, extends it outward until the tip disappears from sight. a low scraping of metal on stone taunts him from somewhere out there in the slow-drifting whiteness kase's sword twitches toward the sound. just the faintest outline of a figure coalesces briefly inside the fog.
ah, what's this? hamlet's ghost? the figure melts back into silent nothingness. kase i'm afraid even the cloak of fog won't help you overcome a sizeable disadvantage.
not at all who i'd hoped for.
this is not a game won on points, i'm afraid. he drives duncan back with an answering exchange that leaves no doubt of his superior ability. in a single massive thrust, kase strips duncan's sword and sends him flying. duncan lands on his back, weaponless. kase steps up to the katana, scoops his toe under it and flicks it back to duncan. then waves him back to his feet. a cat playing with his prey. both combatants square off.  and resume.
that's the beauty of eternity. the fun never stops. he thrusts-- spiking duncan clear through the shoulder. duncan hangs up on the blade, unable to move. grimaces in pain. setting boot to chest, kase kicks duncan off his sword and sends him spiralling backward. duncan reaches out to break his fall-- --but there's no ground beneath him. he plummets off a slanted cliff. bounces at fifty feet, then tumbles clear to the bottom. kase steps up to the edge, scowls.
what have they done to my mountain?! he gazes down at duncan's body sprawled at the base of the cliff. then starts down after him.
don't make it easy. i hate that.
pick up! duncan shakes his blood-streaked head.
pick up!
macleod! duncan ignores him, keeps walking. about now, we should have a pretty good idea what duncan has in mind. but kase doesn't have a clue. duncan's pov: for a fleeting moment, connor stands before duncan, more mist than flesh. he opens his arms wide.