MacLEOD - What could be simpler? [beat] Maybe explaining to a couple thousand people at the track why you're not dead.
 

[Anne, carrying a small overnight, glances at her own watch. Any minute now she'll be face to face with MacLeod. She's excited, apprehensive, distracted and doesn't hear...]

CUSTOMS OFFICER - Madame? [off Anne's look] Your passport?

[A beat -- Anne suddenly realizes he's talking to her.]

ANNE - Sorry, I'm meeting someone, and I was just... Passport. Right. [She fumbles to get her passport out.]
 

 
MacLEOD - Getting a phone call is one thing, seeing me is something else.
 

 
[ANGLE - The doors as they bang open. The Security Guard exits, running interference for a gurney wheeled by two medicos. Tasha is riding on top -- Anne running along beside her. MacLeod stares.]

[ANNE'S POV - HANDHELD - MacLeod looking nonplused as they race towards him. She sees him, tosses off as they wheel right past him without slowing.]

ANNE - Follow us!

MacLEOD - Where?!

ANNE - I don't know!

[Then they're out the doors, gone. MacLeod stands a beat: this isn't exactly how he pictured their meeting. He turns, sees the man staring at him, open-mouthed.]

MacLEOD - Like I said. Complicated.

[He hands the rose to the man and he's gone.]
 

ANNE - [O.S.] Tasha? Is that your name?

[A bustling hospital. The gurney rolls into view, Tasha writhing on top, trying to nod her answer, biting her lip in pain as Anne runs beside, probing Tasha's abdomen.]

ANNE - Okay, Tasha, stay with me on this. Is the pain worse? [off Tasha's nod] Where... here?

[She probes. Tasha gasps, writhes in sudden pain. Anne frowns. Something weird about this.]

ANNE - Hang in there, we're gonna get you some help real fast.
 

 
ANNE - One second she's beside me in line, next she's on the floor, swear to God, Duncan, I don't think they even stamped my passport...

[MacLeod is smiling gently. A beat -- then it hits Anne. She's talking to MacLeod. Alive.]
 

[A modest-sized room in an old building. Displayed in glass cases or on the walls, we see an eclectic assortment of hundreds of mementos from MacLeod's life: his HIGHLAND REGIMENT TUNIC, a GOLD RING, a mid-19th Century SHOTGUN, a JADE BUDDHA, lacquered JAPANESE BOX, some BOOKS, a MAILED GLOVE, a HIGHLAND KILT.]

[CLOSE - A HUGE CLAYMORE] ANNE - [O.S., dazed] Four centuries.

[WIDEN - MacLeod holds the sword for Anne's inspection. He has been explaining the basics of Immortality to her.]

MacLEOD - I know it's hard to accept. [beat] I thought coming here might help.

[She hefts the heavy sword in wonder.]

MacLEOD - My father's. I claimed it after he died.

[He takes the weapon, replaces it on the wall. Anne approaches the Highland Regiment tunic.]

MacLEOD - Battle of Waterloo.
 

 
ANNE - I mean, not getting sick...

MacLEOD - We get sick. We just heal.
 

 
[Anne nods mutely, touches a gold ring on a velvet casing.]

MacLEOD - Present from Bonnie Prince Charlie.

[Anne shakes her head. It's getting to be too much.]
 

 
MacLEOD - Medically speaking, I'd say you just had a pretty traumatic half hour.

[They turn to go, but there's something on Anne's mind.]

ANNE - Mind taking a detour? [off his look] I know she's not my patient, but I just feel...

MacLEOD - Responsible, I know.

[She kisses him, takes his arm, and they head out.]
 

 
[Anne is taken aback. Looks at MacLeod.]

ANNE - She's just a kid.

MacLEOD - A kid with big problems. [beat] You called the police?

CHANDON - They're on their way.

ANNE - I was wondering if I could see her.

CHANDON - Of course. [beat] You saved her life. [turns and moves off]

MacLEOD - I'll be waiting.

[Anne nods and enters Tasha's room. MacLeod turns back to the corridor and watches vigilantly.]
 

 
MacLEOD - Just like that. [writes quickly on a note, hands it to Richie] It'll take a day. You can stay here.
 

 
ANNE - You carried the drugs, Tasha. You got busted. What can I tell you?
 

[PAN UP to find MacLeod, heavily dressed, on horseback. He's squeezing a goatskin water bag into his mouth. As he finishes drinking, straps the goatskin back to his saddle -- MACLEOD'S POV - Bohdan on horseback, fifty yards away. A giant Cossack in fur vest and boots, mustache framing his broad peasant jaw like a rope -- he's so ugly he's charming.]

MacLEOD - [calls out] I'm passing through. I don't want trouble.

[Bohdan breaks into a broad, gap-toothed grin. He shakes his great head, draws his saber -- and charges.]

MacLEOD - Have it your way. [draws his own saber and charges]

[WIDER - THE TWO FIGHTERS as they meet. Bohdan grins wings with powerful blows that MacLeod blocks. They circle, jockeying for position. Then MacLeod makes an unexpected move--]

[CLOSE - BOHDAN'S SADDLE as MacLeod slips his saber under the saddle-strap, slices -- Bohdan's saddle is loose. As his horse bolts, the surprised Cossack sails off, lands heavily on the ground.]

[CLOSE - BOHDAN as he pushes up on his elbows, still bewildered and finds MacLeod's saber at his neck. He looks up to MacLeod, who stands over him.]

MacLEOD - You can stop, or you can die. Your choice.

[Bohdan stares at him a beat, open-mouthed... then to MacLeod's surprise, he laughs -- a gut-wrenching roar.]

MacLEOD - What's funny?

[Bohdan roars again, clambers to his feet, gasping.]

BOHDAN - By God, you unhorse a Cossack! You beat Bohdan! Nobody beats Bohdan!

[Beaming, ignoring MacLeod's sword completely, he grabs MacLeod in a huge bear-hug, squeezes him painfully.]

BOHDAN - Come to our camp tonight! We feast!

MacLEOD - How? Your horse ran off.

BOHDAN - [grabs MacLeod's horse's reins] Then we go on yours.

[MacLeod crooks his hands to hoist Bohdan onto his horse, gritting his teeth with the effort.]

MacLEOD - If he doesn't drop dead.

[MacLeod follows him up, and they totter off.]
 

 
[There are shouts, hands go quickly to sabers. As a large Cossack reaches for MacLeod -- Bohdan slips off the horse, lands with surprising agility on his feet and swings, double fisted, knocks the man sailing.]

BOHDAN - He's my friend. You fight him... you fight Bohdan first.

[He's not expecting any takers. There aren't any.]
 

 
KRISTOV - Anyone who can drop Bohdan on his rump deserves a celebration.

[Bohdan roars, slaps MacLeod again with his meaty hand as they move back to the fires. They pass the man Bohdan knocked down. He is still out cold.]

MacLEOD - What about him?

BOHDAN - He's fine. He's my brother.
 

 
BOHDAN - The Kazatska!
 

 
[He's drowned out as the music starts -- no backing out now. He crouches and starts, awkward at first, one leg then the other, going faster... he's getting the hang of it. He grins, lifts his arms -- no hands. The Cossacks go wild. As he stands -- Bohdan lobs him a vodka bottle and the clapping starts. MacLeod shrugs -- no way to avoid this either. He upends the bottle -- sucks it down to rhythmic clapping. He's still sucking as he topples over backwards, out cold, lands with a thud to wild cheers.]

BOHDAN - He'll make a Cossack yet!
 

 
MacLEOD - [with a sense of foreboding] And there are always enemies, aren't there.

[Kristov smiles and gallops away, over to a pocket of men. Bohdan rides up to MacLeod, grinning.]

BOHDAN - Come, we ride together!
 

 
[MACLEOD'S POV - The village wall and a peasant family cowering there: a man, a boy, women and children. They're trapped by a Cossack -- it's Bohdan. CLOSER - The peasants - the man falls to Bohdan's sword. A brave teenage boy raises a pathetic staff to ward it off. As Bohdan is about to bring his sword down -- MacLeod knocks it away. As Bohdan stares in surprise, MacLeod turns to the stunned peasants behind him.]

MacLEOD - To the forest! RUN!

[Most of them do. MacLeod turns back to Bohdan -- the giant has a puzzled, almost hurt look.]
 

 
BOHDAN - Kristov says we can't.

MacLEOD - You don't have to listen to him.

[Bohdan shakes his great head, a man of simple faith.]

BOHDAN - He leads us. [troubled] You are my friend. It would be wrong to kill you.
 

 
[MacLeod looks at the carnage around him and what has happened. A small boy still cowers near the wall. MacLeod reaches down.]

MacLEOD - Come, I'll take you to safety.

[He swings the boy up behind him. He turns and rides away.]
 

 
RICHIE - I never figured it turning out like this. If there was any way to change what happened...

MacLEOD - I know. But there never is.
 

[Two of Kristov's thugs, RAZIN and STENKA, are exchanging smokes in the entranceway. As Razin reaches in his pocket for a match--]

MacLEOD - [O.S.] [in Russian] Light?

[Razin turns -- MacLeod's fist takes him squarely on the chin. As he drops, Stenka pulls a squat machine-pistol from his jacket -- MacLeod grabs it, hammers him against the wall with it. Stenka goes down. MacLeod tosses the gun into the bushes and goes for the door.]
 

[As Kristov moves down the halls of the great house, Fyodor hurrying at his side, gun in hand.]

KRISTOV - Get to the country house. We'll take care of Tasha later.

[NEW ANGLE as they turn a corner and come face to face with MacLeod.]

MacLEOD - That's an optimistic thought.

[A beat as they stand there, no one moving.]
 

[As MacLeod enters, his sword out, ready to face Kristov... there's a figure kneeling on the stone, head down, leaning on his sword, exhausted. A beat -- Richie slowly lifts his head, manages a weak smile.]

RICHIE - I won.

MacLEOD - I could tell.