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Chapter -11- Meeting of the Minds

September 8 12:04 am ...

** Samantha Summers** flinched at the suggestion of the offensive man. She'd seen this situation several times in role reversal videos, read about it and even attended a seminar once.

The young government agent found herself at arm's length, groped by a man with a surly disposition and cold eyes.

Only on the job for several months, Summers locked up. Her eyes widened and her mind raced, but her body froze.

She couldn't quite focus on her attacker's words after his threat of wanting to force himself on her.

She vaguely felt her shoulders came in contact with a brick wall.

Samantha bit her lower lip in an attempt to say the word, 'fire.' She tried to speak but nothing came of it.

A pit of emotions welled up in her chest. She replied to the man's threatening demeanor with a doe-eyed look and frozen body language.

The man placed his right hand firmly against Samantha's breast, shoving her hard up against the wall.

She didn't move. Her lower lip trembled in an attempt to get words out.

The man reached for her belt.

Samantha's heart raced. Her joints ached with pain. Her muscles were fueled by adrenaline, but she couldn't move, paralyzed by shock and some intrinsic form of fear.

A tear ran down her cheek.

The man jerked the front of her pants open, exposing the hemline of her panties.

Samantha swallowed. She couldn't believe this was happening to her. Her mind raced, trying to figure out what she did to deserve it.

The man dropped to his knees with a groan of pain. He reached behind his head with one hand and rose to one knee, wavering.

Summers glanced to the left and cast her eyes on a blond teenage girl. Breath found Samantha's lungs again. She managed a single word. "RUN!"

The blond girl smiled and continued her approach. She walked with purpose, a devious gait, sashaying her hips with every step.

Again, Samantha drew in a renewed breath and told the girl, "I said RUN!"

The man got to his feet with a grunt. He picked up a brick by his shoe. With his free hand, he kept Samantha pinned to the wall. He glanced back at the approaching girl. "You, kid ... did you just throw this brick at me?"

"What if I did?" replied the blond. "What if I was a bad girl and hit you with that brick? Ooo, are you going to punish_me?" She reached up and gave a tug at the v-neck of her blouse to accentuate the voluptuous canyon of her cleavage. "Oh _puh-leeease don't 'hurt' me, mister."

"Run," Summers said, her voice now a hoarse whisper. Tears streamed down her face. "I said run!"

The youthful-looking girl approached the two. "Get out of here, lady," said the blond. "Just keep going. In half an hour, call for help." She rubbed her palms together, bringing her gaze back to the man. "He's going to need it."

The man released Samantha. He turned to the younger, prettier, more voluptuous blond girl in the middle of the alley. "You wanna trade places, kid? Is that it?"

The girl pressed her fingers together, cracking a mere two knuckles in a half-failed attempt at coming off as imposing. "You can't rape the willing. And, sweetheart, I'm willing to do a lot of things to you." She cut her gaze back to Samantha Summers. "Go on, lady. I've got this."

Samantha shook her head. "Do you know what he'll do to you?"

"I'd like to see him try." Karla approached Samantha. She took a deep breath and shouted, "Go! This isn't your fight, lady. Now, move!"

Samantha felt her body come alive with a fight-or-flight response. She wanted to stay and fight, but her legs had a mind of their own. Against her better judgment, she let her embarrassment take over. Samantha scrambled away from the alley wall.

The canary-haired girl watched as the plain-clothes agent ran. She tilted her head and murmured, "Was that an Interpol badge around her neck?"

"What did you say?" The man turned to the blond and took a menacing step toward her.

"I think you just accosted a cop." The youthful looking teen-faced girl licked her pouty pink lips, turned back to the man, and said, "You can call me Karla."

Another man called out from behind. "We don't have time for this!" It was the voice of reason.

Karla rolled her eyes and glanced over her shoulder. "C'mon, Donovan. I need to do this."

Donovan scoffed in annoyance.

Karla turned back to the rapist with a frown. "The girl that just ran? That was me once, when I was about fourteen years old," she said to Donovan, while keeping her eyes on the rapist. "Before I knew what I was. I won't soon forget feeling helpless. I need to do this."

"We have to meet with Methos," Donovan replied. He adjusted his tie. "Please, don't take long."

She glanced back at Donovan. "Back up. I need room to work."

Donovan grumbled beneath his breath.

Karla turned back to the man with the brick. She glowered at him. "You know what that lady is feeling right now, jackass? Anger, resentment and shame because she just stood there, dumbfounded, while you de-feminated her. Now, I'd like you to feel equally emasculated."

She glanced back at Donovan again and said, "Go check on that woman. I believe she just headed around the corner. This guy won't show me his true colors unless he's alone with me. Go on. I'll meet up with you."

Donovan Loupe groaned in frustration and continued on to the next block, leaving Karla alone with the brick wielding rapist male.

The man quirked his brows at Karla. "Are you serious? You big breasted bimbo, do you know what I do to girls like you?"

"Duh."

"So, what are those things, anyway...? E-cup? Maybe F, if that's a sports bra, right?"

A grin tugged at the corner of Karla's lips. "Good eye. How's your head? I didn't hurt you with that brick too badly, did I?"

"So it was you that threw it." He dropped the brick on the pavement. "Well, the kid gloves are coming off, bitch. I'm going to have my way with you and you're actually going to love it. Trust me. This is the sort of thing a girl like you wants deep down inside. It's natural instincts."

"Really?" she asked, feigning pretend curiosity. "Really, really? Tell me more!"

"Ohh, h'oh, h'oh!" He pounded his left palm with his right fist. He unfastened the front of his pants and flipped the front of his boxers down. "I'm going to ram this down your throat. Just thought I'd show it to you, before I feed it to you."

"Kind of average, if you ask me."

The man glowered at her. "The gloves are so coming off, bitch."

Karla returned a smirk and said, "Good for the gloves."

He drew his arm back and swung wide for her head.

Karla lifted her right forearm, using her wrist to deflect the punch.

She closed her hand to mask a subtle carnation glow on her palms. Karla cocked her arm back and buried her left fist into his gut.

His eyes widened and he groaned. He reached for her neck.

Karla closed her other hand into a fist, creating a telekinetic repulsion shell around her body. The field kept him from being able to squeeze her throat.

The man tensed his arm, trying to crush her neck, but was unable to squeeze.

Karla patted his forehead with her right hand and smiled. "So, for you, it's all about power and control, huh? Gotta reach for the neck because THAT makes you feel strong, doesn't it?"

The man grit his teeth together, trying to crush her throat in his fist. His forearm tensed up and sweat formed over his brows.

"You like feeling 'powerful' don't you?" She lowered her hand to his chin. Karla walked her fingers over his lips, up his nose, and back to his forehead.

"Who the hell are you?"

Karla reached down with her free hand and curled her fingers over his semi-erection, drawing it free of his boxers. "I have a confession to make."

"You're turned on, aren't you? That's why you came down here. You have a rape fetish."

"No, and no."

"What?"

Karla's smile broadened. "Haven't you ever heard of Voltaire? He once said, 'With great power comes great responsibility,' and guess what?" She stopped her index finger at the widow's peak of his hairline.

A telekinetic surge of power transferred from her finger into his forehead, throwing him back. He sailed down the alley, struck a large green dumpster, flipped up over the side, and landed within it.

"I have 'great power,' sweetie." She wiggled her index and the lid dropped shut.

Silence.

Karla's confident smile brightened. "Nothing like taking out the trash to make a boring night more fun." She headed back towards the street.

Donovan stood at the mouth of the alley, leaning against the wall with his arms folded.

Karla flashed a devious smile and asked, "Where's the girl?"

"She kept going. Rubbed her eyes a few times and kept walking. Karla, I respect what you're doing ... helping the less fortunate and all ... but you can't shoulder the responsibility of the whole planet just because you feel bad that no one else has your abilities."

"Donovan, if that short of thing happens in my presence, I'm going to crack skulls if and when I feel so inclined."

"You're part of nearly-extinct race. Chasing down rapists shouldn't be your focus in life."

Karla smirked. "Look, I work hard to maintain my effeminate image, my makeup and hair, and my fashion. It makes me feel good about myself when I look cute. But when someone is in a back alley trying to get his rocks off on a girl just to assert his dominance..."

Donovan remained silent.

Karla shook her head, finishing her thought aloud. "I have no problem breaking a nail if it means I get to stomp the guts out of a disgusting, miserable shithead like that guy." She pointed back towards the alley.

Silence.

Karla cleared her throat, looked around and smiled again. "Sorry, that was a little unladylike of me, huh?"

"I do not begrudge any woman who defends herself, let alone another women."

The succubus shrugged in reply. "My point is, I won't tolerate that guy's behavior in my presence. I love looking cute, but I also love fighting like a man."

"I think that's your problem ... have you had your hormone levels checked as of late?"

"I'm a succubus. My hormones are off the chart."

"Testosterone?"

Karla nodded. "Yes, my testosterone is high for a woman. That's what makes me want to feed ...and fight. Now, let's go meet your friend that you told me all about. Methos, right?"

"Indeed. This way." Donovan side-nodded.

The two walked down the sidewalk several more blocks.

Four blocks later, they arrived at a grey concrete building, six stories tall. The side entrance staircase led to the second floor.

Donovan took the stairs first. He opened the door and gestured for Karla.

"Ah, a gentleman. How refreshing." She stepped inside and approached a man sitting on a comfortable chair adjacent to a sofa and coffee table.

The man nodded to Karla.

Karla smirked in reply. "Well, well, well. Dear god, hello. I'm Karla Howard. Please, please tell me you're the man we've come to meet."

A smile swept across his face in reply. "Perhaps." His eyes lifted to the man that followed Karla inside. "Ah! Donovan!"

"Methos!" Loupe approached his friend and the two embraced.

Methos settled back into his chair after a quick tug at his trousers. Once seated, he gave another quick downward yank at his shirt hem.

Donovan looked over his friend. He lowered onto a nearby sofa. "Pray-tell, what is with the 'Miami Vice' shirt?"

"It's fashionable again, oddly. More so than a double-Windsor tie knot, my friend." Methos cut his glance to Karla and tilted his head. His eyes scanned her attire.

Karla posed, prenning for Methos as if she'd never met him before.

Methos chuckled. "Your lady-friend seems to understand, and it helps her fit into modern society better, yes?"

"Exactly," Karla said. She looked back at Donovan. "You could take notes from your buddy," her eyes cut back to Methos, adding, "Mister Eye Candy, here."

Donovan flinched with embarrassment. "Dear God. My apologies for her behavior, Methos. How have you been?"

"I'm going by 'Lance' now."

Karla arched her brows. "You ... want us to call you Lance?"

Methos nodded. "Like fashion, names have to be current and cannot draw attention. 'Methos' is a bit archaic if you ask me. I cannot afford to stand out. This applies to humans and supernaturals. I don't have abilities like the two of you."

Donovan turned to Karla and said, "He's the only other ageless person I know besides you, Ms. Howard. Needless to say, he's intelligent and astute. One might say his true 'super power' is common sense."

Methos nodded with a smile. He folded his hands and told her, "Good sense and money. This combination far exceeds the supernatural powers of my peers."

Karla looked at Donovan with a smirk. She turned back to Methos and said, "I agree, Lance."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Karla continued. "Tony Stark, Oliver Queen, and Bruce Wayne would, too."

Methos smirked. "I said money and good sense ... not 'money, ingenuity, and fancy toy gadgets,' young lady."

"Pardon?" replied Donovan.

Karla kept her gaze on Lance's own and said, "Iron Man, Green Arrow and Batman, respectively. Iif you're going to fit in, you need to stay on top of modern trends, Donnie. They're comic book characters that have been made current and modernized by action cinemas. We call them 'moo-vees.'"

"No need to be facetious," he groused.

She smirked in reply. "Donovan, like, I'm twice your age. Do try to keep up on the trends of the youthful if you plan to look like them."

"You stopped aging as a child," Donovan replied. "I'm a grown man, set in my ways and happy. And besides, I now have you to explain these things."

She cut her gaze back to Methos. "So, Methos - are you a fan of Highlander?"

"Please, Ms. Howard. I prefer Lance, now."

"Lance, then. You're not a woman, so you won't be insulted when I ask: how old are you?"

Methos smirked. "I'm old enough that I don't know anymore because the bloody calendar has changed so many times."

"Wow. Now that is a dilemma," she mused aloud. "I see why Donovan came to see you, then. You have experience."

"Mm-hmm."

"Seriously, how old are you?"

Methos looked up at Donovan. "How old would you assume I am, based on what you've heard about me over the years, Donovan?"

Donovan thought for a moment. "I would guess that you were born at least thirty-one hundred years before the birth of Yeshua ... mm, sorry, Jesus Christ."

Methos nodded thoughtfully. "That is a reasonable assumption, Donovan."

Karla smirked. "So, you're at least fifty-one hundred years old."

"At least," Methos said.

Karla smirked. "That's pretty old. So what's the deal with this guy, Falcon, stealing these artifacts and killing supernatural people?"

"You truly do not want Falcon to possess all the relics. So far as killing the Specials - I believe he's had help. It's too large of an option to handle alone."

Karla scoffed. "Duh. That much is obvious."

Methos replied with a frown.

"So how do you know about these relics? I mean, I get it, you're as old as your namesake's Highlander character. Cute coincidence, by the way." Karla smirked again. "But, seriously, you've probably forgotten more in your lifetime than you remember about the last hundred years. So what makes these relics so memorable?"

"Snarky little thing aren't you?" said Methos.

"Why yes, Lance, I am."

"Mm. To answer your question, the artifacts are fragmented parts of very old technology that was, at one time, all one piece."

Karla crossed her arms beneath her bust.

Methos continued. "This device was unique. It had properties not unlike a plant or an animal - it had genetic coding, like a plant or an animal. If the pieces are brought together, it is designed to communicate with the other pieces."

"What if the pieces are melted down and used to make something else?"

Methos shrugged. "Most of the pieces were melted down and transformed into something else. Shape doesn't matter. Adding metal elements does not matter."

Karla glanced back at Donovan, who appeared fascinated. She turned to Methos and nodded for him to keep explaining.

Methos offered a sly smile. "Each piece has genetic coding, Ms. Howard. Bringing the pieces together makes the device work. The modern world as we know it does not have technology to which I can compare this device."

"So what if we grab a few and hide them?"

Methos nodded. "That is our best chance to keep Falcon from using it. Bring together all the pieces, and the machine works flawlessly. Bring together most of the pieces, and it works at limited capacity. However, it still works."

"What does it do?" she asked.

"Reformats the surface of the Earth. It resets the environment, and creates suitable conditions for restarting the population."

Donovan fidgeted. "Like terraforming?"

"My biggest concern is the spotty information I have regarding Falcon."

"How do you mean, Methos?"

"Lance," he corrected. "I heard a rumor that Aris Falcon has learned how to engineer genetic traits. He may be able to give himself an active ability."

Karla tilted her head. Her demeanor changed, becoming serious. "In theory, abilities can be given?"

"Yes. Your genetic code is a program; your brain is a computer. The two are combined to make your body function on every level imaginable - what you're allergic to, how well you metabolize caffeine, your immunity to various things ... are you following me so far?"

Karla nodded. "Yeah. You can have twin brothers, but one got a recessed gene, or, you know - whatever the term is - something from a few generations back. So one twin's hair turns a different color during puberty. The other twin becomes a musician, while the sibling is tone-deaf. One catches colds easily, the other has a peanut allergy. I get it. Even with the same body and similar brain, the genetic code has information that makes us different and unique."

Methos nodded. "Very good, Ms. Howard. Brilliant people have programmed computers to do amazing things. If Falcon learns how to engineer genetic code..."

Karla nodded. "I get it. The proper genetic programmer can help you utilize your mind better, or it can help you to use your body in amazing ways. And, just like some programmers make computers do great things, others are hackers and can cause your computer to stop working properly."

"Yes. But a software conflict can cause issues, or unintended consequences. Some code will not be compatible with his body. And until he learns how to write code like God, he has to do what many programmers do..."

Karla's eyes widened. "Steal it."

"Yes, exactly."

Karla grimaced. "You can't steal Linux code and use it on Windows. You can't steal Windows code and use it on an Apple phone. So he would have to find compatible hosts, and steal lines from their genetic code, if he wants their powers."

Methos nodded firmly. "Precisely. So, that raises a plethora of new questions. Did Falcon find a way to determine who he is compatible with, and use that list to decide which supernaturals to kill? Did he abduct genetically compatible people during the attacks? What is his end game?"

"And," Karla cut in, "What's his obsession with the artifacts."

Methos nodded. He turned to Donovan. "You found a smart one, Donovan. She understands what's going on here."

Donovan grimaced. "She was far quicker to grasp this than I was, when you first explained it to me. I still do not understand how the artifacts are all part of the same device. Some of these relics seem completely unrelated."

Karla stood up, stretched, and paced. "What kind of artifacts are we talking about, here?"

"Many of these artifacts had importance, but humanity did not understand why. So they were given importance. For example, the spear that pierced the side of Christ - it was originally obtained by a clan of people that worshipped Caine, son of Adam and Eve. It was a prize possession. Later, when Rome conquered that tribe during expansion, the spear found its way into the hands of Roman soldiers."

Karla grimaced. "There's no way it coincidentally was used to stab Jesus, if it was already important."

"Correct," said Methos. "It was given to Longinus by someone who understood its value as a weapon of the clan of Caine. They were considered a cult. The spear was melted down and used to forge a new weapon. It was given to Longinus under the belief that it could slay a deity, which was its function when created by the cult, before the birth of Jesus."

Karla grimaced. "Did the Caine-worshippers, or the Romans know that it was important before it was forged into a god-killing weapon?"

"They knew it was important, but not how or why," said Methos. "Many artifacts were treated this way. Humanity knew that it was cherished and protected, so it was stolen or reprocessed, and then changed to suit their needs."

"Why let them fall into the wrong hands?" asked Donovan.

Karla glanced over her shoulder and said, "Donnie, if you don't want this machine to be reassembled, you hope humanity takes the parts as far away from one another as possible. You hope that people change these pieces until they're unrecognizable and their original purpose is completely forgotten."

"I see. Like a key to a vault that you wish to keep safe. You hope someone steals the key, loses it, and that someone else comes along, finds the key, melts it down into another key..."

Karla grinned at Donovan. "A vault you wish to keep safe?"

Donovan sighed. "I did not intend to make a pun, Karla. Please, focus."

"I am," she said. Karla turned back to Methos and sat down again. "Okay, so Falcon is hunting for these things, and he's bringing them together?"

"Yes. His obsession began when he learned about the relics from Jonathan Conner Parker, several decades ago. These relics were supposed to be forgotten by time. The Parker family has a few they keep safe as a failsafe. However, Falcon found most of the Parker family's extended bloodline, and he's hunting them."

Karla frowned. "I heard a rumor that Jon Parker lost his abilities."

"Yes. It seems Falcon's obsession with the Parker family extends beyond the handful of artifacts they possess." Methos leaned back in his sitting chair. "I would have wanted Jonathan working with us, but without his ability ... he would be a liability."

"What about Nathan?" asked Karla.

"While old, he is trustworthy, intelligent, and he's known about the relics for as long as I've known him."

Donovan adjusted his tie. "Can we trust him?"

Karla glanced back at Donovan. "Hell yeah, we can trust Nathanial. He's the best."

Methos shifted his weight in his chair. "There are a lot of factors at play. The relics, Falcon's attack against the Esoteric Community ... even the news coverage of this dig in Iceland. Apparently, new information is coming out about the deities of the Æsir. Everything is connected."

Karla furrowed her brows. "Gods aren't real."

"It doesn't matter what you believe. Every myth is rooted in some truth. Imagine if you just found out new stories about people that were part of the supernatural community, trying to live out a normal life? What if you found out the Justiciar, for example, used to be a war god? Would you want your backstory getting out? No, you'd want it to stay hidden and forgotten. I have a feeling it is somehow tied together."

Karla shrugged. "I saw a documentary last night about the lady married to Loki. They talked about what she used to be like before this new codex thing was found. It showed the comparisons. Big deal? The girl had every right to be upset."

"Sigyn's character mythology was changed dramatically. She is now seen in a completely different light, Karla."

"So? Big deal."

Methos sighed.

Donovan leaned forward a bit. "Perhaps it would be best if we stick to certain priorities. Falcon is a priority. Information is a priority. We should help one another to learn as much as we can about the situation handed to us."

Methos nodded. "Very well. The bigger picture, over all, can wait. Let's focus on the next battle before we consider the war."

"How do you plan on doing that?" asked Karla.

"I had plans on contacting Jonathan Conner Parker. If Parker and his children can infiltrate Falcon's operation and gather inside intelligence, we can use it to understand Falcon's actions."

"You want to use Parker and his kids to spy on a man rumored to have murdered a hundred thousand people with various supernatural powers? You think they're up for that sort of thing?"

"Indeed, I do." Methos interlaced his fingers. "So I understand you've been watching over the Parker family?"

Karla tilted her head. She glanced back at Donovan. Her green gaze panned back to Methos. She nodded. "Well yes, Lance. I have." She side-nodded towards Donovan. "So Donnie told'ja, huh?"

Methos moved his folded hands over the right armrest. "Quite so. I know you've worked with JC Parker in the past. Have you met his children yet? Do you think the family is capable of helping us spy on Falcon's operation?"

Karla shrugged. "I met Fox last week during a 'daring daylight robbery.' In all seriousness, I was impressed by him. He reminds me a little bit of his daddy, but Fox has more personality."

Methos nodded. "Parker does not lack personality, Karla. He represses it, because he takes his lifestyle rather seriously."

Karla folded her hands. "I shadowed the kids on their last gig."

"Ah, 'shadowed' them did you? So you went with Donovan?"

Karla nodded. "Donovan was sweet enough to accompany me."

"What did you learn, Karla?"

She unfolded her hands and leaned back on the sofa. "I watched Fox and his sister pull a job in LA."

Donovan grimaced. "Tell him why you spied on them, Karla. Tell him what you told me."

She replied with a slight shrug. "I plan on recruiting the Parker twins for my super kickball team. Nathan said that YiaYia predicts I will be the team captain."

Methos smiled. "Yes, Nathanial and I spoke about this at length. That is why I asked Donovan to bring you to me. I'm interviewing you for the position."

Karla scoffed. "Are you now?"

"Yes, I am. What did you learn about the twins?"

"I want them on my team," she said. Karla trailed off, shrugged, and added, "But until until they're ready."

"Are they not, Ms. Howard?"

Karla shook her head. "Problem is, they don't seem to be meshing together at the moment. Topaz has some sort of strange stigma issue. The boy might be ready, though."

Donovan interjected. "Wait, you're telling me you think the boy is readier than the girl? After we saw her dispatch a group of people?"

"Dear GOD yes," Karla exclaimed. "The girl had a lot of promise. The boy looks like he might plateau with his ability within the next few years. But the girl will continue to get better for a long time. However, she's not where she needs to be yet."

"I disagree," Donovan said. "The girl has impressive skill. She does not hesitate, and she saved her brother's life."

Karla turned from Donovan back to Methos and said, "Parker's daughter took her training seriously but she's not emotionally ready. I know women. I am one. She's got issues going on. She has potential, but she's not ready yet."

"We need fighters who can save the lives of their team," Donovan said. "Topaz Parker is a survivor who can also prioritize the life of her teammate. I saw her in action first hand. She has my vote."

Karla scoffed. "God, even after living for over two hundred years, men can be so damn dense." She glanced back at Methos and said, "Listen Lance, I'm going to track down Fox and approach him about working with us. He's ready to be a team player. But not yet."

"Not yet?" asked Methos.

"Yeah, 'Lance.' Not yet." Karla checked her phone watch. She sighed, seeing the display cracked from her scuffle in the alley, earlier. She grimaced. Her eyes returned to Methos. "Fox isn't going to just jump onboard until he sees the severity of what we're up against. So I'm biding my time."

"You are?" Donovan adjusted the knot of his tie, appearing uncomfortable.

Lance smiled at his long-time friend. "Donovan, she knows what she's doing." He turned back to Karla and said, "How do you plan on getting him involved?"

"The only obvious way." She stole another glance at the broken display of her cellphone watch. "We leave Fox where he's at until he sees something supernatural."

Donovan and Methos exchanged glances.

Methos canted his head back to Karla. "How do you mean? What are your plans for recruiting Fox Parker?"

Karla rolled her eyes at both men. "You didn't hear the news?" She paused for effect. "Fox was abducted by Falcon."

Methos ground his teeth together. "I was not aware of this."

Karla shrugged. "Fox was working out the other day, in the mansion gym. His father was in South Africa, doing research with his wife, Fara. They're looking for the Asclepius - the Rod of Aaron. Also, Jon and Fara are expecting, by the way. Fox was caught off guard with earphones in his ears. Tranquilized."

Lance furrowed his brows. "This is news to me."

Donovan turned to Methos. "Why is Parker searching for the Rod of Aaron?"

Methos leaned back in his sitting chair. "It is said the staff of Aaron, brother of Moses, had the ability to absorb the powers of other rods. At the time, a handful of advanced technology scepters found their way into the hands of humans in the Middle East. Aaron's Rod could absorb the powers of others, thus giving it new powers throughout its use in the bible. That's the reason it was hidden in the Ark of the Covenant. After Aaron used it to absorb the power of the rods wielded by Pharaoh's magicians."

Karla grimaced. "So because Aaron was obsessed with God, he attributed his powers to something other than this artifact?"

Methos nodded in reply. "Unfortunately, the Rod of Aaron, and the Rod of Moses have been missing. Some say Hezekiah destroyed the staff of Moses."

"What can this thing do?" asked Donovan.

Methos grimaced. "A lot. More than the bible documented. It's initial power is to render other rods powerless, and absorb their powers. I call it Asclepius. It can create food, bend the will of the weary, cure venom, restore health, move solid rock, and it has a security system."

Karla arched her brows. "The staff has a security system?"

"When activated, if the rod is touched by people it deems unworthy, it endangers the person's life. It's claimed the 'indescribable name of God was etched on it.' Some claim the staff created on the sixth day of Genesis. It was claimed that it was given to Adam after being driven out of Paradise. Basically, it was invented during the first age of humanity."

Karla stared at Methos. After a moment, she said, "So the thing turning into a snake and eating other people's rods ... that was a metaphor? It just stole powers from other scepters with abilities?"

Methos nodded. "Technology rods were invented for protection. It was a trial project. If someone collected several staffs, they would become too powerful, so the first age humans collected them and stored them away."

Donovan adjusted is tie. "This is most certainly an interesting conversation."

Methos shrugged. "When technology staffs were a decidedly poor decision, and when they were rounded up and hid away, the first age of humans invented something safer - supernaturals. Your ancestors, Donovan."

"So people with abilities were invented by the first age of humanity? I call bullshit," Karla said. "It's an evolutionary mutation. We use more of our brains because we skipped a step."

Methos shrugged again. "It no longer matters what the truth is. The Esoteric Community was the victim of genocide. Supernatural people no longer exist, except a handful of survivors on the run."

Silence.

"...So the truth no longer matters, Ms. Howard."

"You're full of information, Lance. I'm willing to wager a lot of it is disinformation."

"Yes, a lot of what I tell people is false. I do it on purpose. However, despite the death of a hundred thousand people with powers, the Rod of Aaron, and a handful of other rods still exist in the world. Most have been absorbed by Aaron's Rod before the birth of Christ. This is likely the reason Jonathan Parker is hunting for it."

She crossed her legs, keeping her eyes on Methos' gaze to see if he was lying, or if he was lying about lying. "And just in case the scepters fall into the wrong hands, one was made as a failsafe, which absorbed the power of the others? That was the staff of Aaron, right?"

"Correct," said Methos. "It's also supposed to be wielded by the True Messiah."

Karla arched her brows. "Jesus didn't have Aaron's staff."

Methos nodded. "Quite right. So was Jesus the Messiah? Or was he just_the Son of God? You can be a savior without being a deity. You can be a Messiah without being a deity. People just assumed Jesus was _all the things said about him by Mark and the other..."

Karla waved her hands. "Okay, okay. Boring stuff. Moving on - you guys asked about Fox. The rest of the Parker family doesn't even know he's missing yet."

"Do you know where he is?" Methos asked.

"Yeah," Karla said with a smirk. "I want Fox on my super kickball team. I told you that already. Of course I'm keeping tabs on him."

"Go on."

She leaned back on the sofa. "I teleported into Falcon's nest to snoop around and I saw the kid in there. I left him in the cage for now - yes, cage. As in, an actual cage with metal bars."

"Why didn't you free him?" asked Methos, incredulous.

"I plan to rescue him, Lance! God damn. It's all about time and place. I need him to see Falcon's operation from the inside-out, first. Then I'll rescue him."

"And this proves what, Ms. Howard?"

Karla rolled her eyes. "If we do it my way, Fox'll volunteer himself to help me. It's not like I can just say, 'Hey bud! I need to know if you'll steal random shit to help save the world!' He'll roll his eyes and ignore me."

"Why not help him when you first saw him in trouble? " Lance leaned back on his comfortable sitting chair. "What are you up to?"

"Fox needs to see what that psychopath is capable of. I need Fox to believe in the cause. Give him a week or two with Falcon, and he'll be ready to help me. So how far does this go?"

"How do you mean?" asked Methos.

"God dammit, 'Lance.' I know you're probably used to feigning ignorance, being immortal and all. But I need answers. How deep is this artifact crap?"

"How deep? Quite a number of fathoms." Methos rubbed his chin. "Do you believe in Atlantis?"

"No."

Donovan mirrored her. "No."

Methos smiled. "You might start if we live long enough to do any good. It's not exactly as Plato described it, but there are a few commonalities."

Karla eyed him. "Again, I'm not sure if you're lying, or lying about lying."

Methos shrugged. "Disinformation is my greatest asset. I can't allow anyone to ever find out the truth. There is power in truth, and such power would be dangerous."

Her sea-green eyes narrowed. "More dangerous than someone who can kill supernaturals by the tens of thousands in a single week?"

Methos nodded. "Considerably more dangerous, Ms. Howard. The supernatural community was invented for a reason - to protect humanity. That line of defense has fallen. All that's left, now, is the power of the truth. It's best I contain it."

"And how do you plan on doing that? You don't have powers, Methos."

"Lance," he corrected. "I need you to call me by my new name, Ms. Howard. For now on. It's very important."

She glared at him for a moment. Karla sighed and offered a nod. "Okay, fine. Sorry."

"Thank you. Methos is dead. He died in the attacks, are we clear?"

Karla nodded. "Faking your death, huh? I get it now. I can respect that. You have answers, and you don't want someone looking for you."

"Correct. It has come to my attention that Falcon is hunting for me, so I had to change my identity."

Donovan checked his watch. "I'd better leave. I have things to do before the sun comes up."

"You a vampire?" She offered a playful expression.

Donovan replied with an expression of disgust. "I cannot go into my shade form for long periods in direct sunlight. It burns. However, I am _not _a vampire like Natalia Kincade."

Karla frowned. "Okay, okay, I was just joking about the 'vampire' thing."

Donovan nodded. "I shall speak to both of thee anon." He left the way he came and closed the door behind him.

"He doesn't know?" asked Lance.

Karla smirked, glaring at the well-dressed man. "What? That you and I have been in a sexual relationship for almost sixty years?" She shook her head. "Of course not; he has no clue. But it doesn't matter."

"So, why not tell him you've been my pupil for half a century?"

Karla shrugged. "Donnie was so excited to introduce me to you that I just left it alone. Besides, I've only known him since the night of the attacks."

"He's trustworthy, Karla. I hold the Loupe family in high regard."

Karla nodded. "Alright. I like him. He has a good heart."

"That's rare to come by in this day and age."

"Yeah, seems that way." Karla paused, uncrossed her legs, and relaxed on the sofa. "Damn, though, he really needs to address that goofy archaic speech pattern."

"Mm. It's triggered by anxiety. Perhaps you bring it out in him."

"Heh." Karla grinned. "I have an effect on people. Good for some, bad for others. So, are you really over five thousand years old? You're so clever and fashionable ... I pegged you at around a hundred, but with a big mathematical brain."

"Well thank you." Methos leaned back in his sitting chair. His eyes drifted between her knees. "Hunter green?"

"And lacey. Cute aren't they?" she replied in reference to her underwear. "Are you really that old?"

"No," said Methos with a chuckle. "I'm not five thousand years old. Sorry to disappoint."

"So why make that claim?"

He offered her a sly sort of smile. "I try to live up to what people expect of me. It's for their benefit, not for mine."

"You've been my teacher and my friend-with-benefits for a while now, babe. Why didn't you ever tell me about any of that shit you talked about tonight?"

He shook his head with a slight shrug. "Sex aside, you were on a need to know basis, Karla Chintzy. Karla Goldsmith. Karla Odin. Karla ...hmm, what did you go by before 1955?"

"Hell if I remember. I'd forgotten about the last one you mentioned. Good memory. I think it was Jones, and before that was, uh..." She trailed off briefly. "Y'know, I'll probably sit up in bed, in the middle of the night, and be like, 'Oh! I remember now!' I hate that. You ever have moments like that?"

"Indeed. Many people do."

Karla eyed him. She grinned. "No, not you. You're just saying that to make me feel better."

He returned her grin. "Guilty as charged. My mind works different than the average person, which is how I am able to endure immortality without having a mental or emotional breakdown."

"Oh, is that so? You're talking like you might be older than a hundred."

"How old do you think I am, Karla?"

"At least as old as my father."

Methos' demeanor changed. He eyed her. "How old do you think Azazel is?"

"Old enough."

"You know more than you're letting on, don't you?"

Karla replied with a mysterious smile. "Frustrating, isn't it?"

"What?"

"When someone mixes information with disinformation, Lance. Now you know how it feels to be frustrated. And just so we're clear, I'm not telling you exactly what I know about you and my father. I'll let you use your imagination and wonder how much I really know."

He shifted his weight. "I've always said you're more intelligent than you let on."

"Mm. Flattery will get you laid, but it won't get you answers."

"You're right. It is frustrating, Karla. When the time and place are right, I will tell you more."

"You're just saying that because used that phrase, 'time and place,' regarding Fox Parker's eventual rescue. Clever, but I wouldn't believe you even if you did tell me the truth about your past."

"So the fact remains, you may already know the truth about me, and not even realize it."

"God, you're worse than a woman, Lance."

The door swung open. Mercenaries charged through the doorframe.

Both Karla and Lance glanced up, eyes wide, at the rush of men wearing black military gear.

With a blink, the succubus rose to her feet. "Are you guys kidding?"