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Virtual Season 10:7 Third Time Lucky
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Rocket
Posted: 8 January 2020 - 09:57 AM                                    
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Story is loading, please wait...

Actually I'm just late, sorry guys.
Story is almost finished. Will be here as soon as possible doh.gif



Rollerskating at right angles to reality

 
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Posted: 12 January 2020 - 09:50 AM                                    
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Phoenix Operative
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Posts: 838
Joined: 9 Mar 2013
Gender:  Female
Country: England
SAK owned: Commander

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Season: ---
Episode:Hallowe'en Knights
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket:  Black/Navy flight
House:  House boat



Here we go, sorry for the delay.
This story was originally set in Iran. With the current happenings, I decided I wanted to relocate it...

Third Time Lucky

If you’re not familiar with the episode ‘Deathlock’, it’s probably worth going and watching it again before you read this story.
I’ll see you here when you get back 😊


Part One

“No.” Dr. Zito shook his head. “Definitely not. The man’s a loose cannon, too much drama and fuss. Also, he takes hostages and lets things get messy and out of hand.” He shook his head again. “Jack Catlin isn’t who we need, even if he is good at hand-to-hand.”
“Hand to staff, anyway.” Victoria James picked up the file, looking at the photograph. “Too distinctive with that scar, I think.” She tossed the file onto the table. “Next?”
“Let’s see.” Von Leer flipped open the cover on the net file. “Colter, Henry. Not his real name.” He handed it to Victoria. “Some interesting skills, but maybe not good enough for what we want.”
“I like him.” Victoria nodded, scanning the page. “But you’re right, not good enough in a fight for us.” She passed the file to Dr Zito, who read the first page and then put the file down.
“Agreed. We need someone who can take on MacGyver and win.” Zito sat back in the chair, lacing his fingers together. “My money would be on Phoenix’s golden boy in that particular conflict.”
“Alright.” Von Leer picked up the last file, hesitated and then passed it to Dr Zito. “How about him? Word has it that he’s improved himself.”
“Thank you.” Dr Zito leaned back, crossing his legs. He read the first page, then looked up at Von Leer. “Interesting. You say he’s improved since he last tangled with MacGyver?”
“Very much so.” Von Leer nodded.
“You have to be kidding me!” Victoria leaned over Dr Zito’s shoulder, reading the name at the top of the file. “I know this guy, he couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag!”
“You might be surprised.” Von Leer took back the file, setting it down on top of the pile. “I think we’ll try him out anyway.”
“Well, he’d definitely be motivated to succeed.” Dr Zito stroked his beard, nodding.
“Try him.” Victoria shrugged. “That way, if he sucks as much as he used to, at least we find out before it can hurt any of us!”
“Alright.” Von Leer nodded, crossed to his desk and took an address book out of the drawer. “I have the very thing. A contact of mine at the DXS has made me aware of something interesting which needs to make its way back here in the next short while. Collecting it is likely to involve separating it forcefully from its current custodian.” He turned the pages, placing his finger on a telephone number. “Bringing down a battle-hardened spy should be sufficient test of his skills, yes?”
*
*
MacGyver woke slowly, still feeling tired. Last night’s ‘friendly’ hockey game with a neighbouring team had been hard won, and the party afterwards had finished late. He swung his feet out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen in his pyjamas.
He turned on the computer, filled the kettle and set it on the stove, opening the refrigerator door. He blinked at the contents, recalling that he’d meant to do some shopping yesterday. He pulled out the last carton of yogurt and a banana, put some bread in the toaster and ate the yogurt standing at the stove.
He made his tea, spread peanut butter on his toast and took his breakfast over to the computer, yawning as he opened up the e-mail. He yawned again as he opened the newest mail.
Frowning, he set down his tea and read the email again. The words in order made no sense, but something about the pattern was familiar. MacGyver drank some tea and bit into the toast. Then he stopped mid-chew, realising what the message could be.
Back in his DXS days, MacGyver had needed to send messages in code. Time spent in unfriendly countries and having to get information back to his superiors in a way that wouldn’t be intercepted had made him familiar with the encryptions and tricks used at the time. The code he was looking at was about fifteen years old, from back when he’d been working with James Grey. Reaching for a pen and paper, MacGyver set to work translating the coded message.
*
MacGyver sat back in his chair, reading through his message. He’d worked with James Grey for a while in Afghanistan, before the other operative had been assigned to Japan. They’d lost contact after that, despite being friends, but he hadn’t heard from James in years…

Mac,
I’m contacting you because I can’t trust anyone else. I’ve been attacked twice in places only my handler knew I would be, so I have to conclude that he’s been compromised and wants me dead.
I have important information and a prototype which must be transported safely back to home soil, and I need someone to help me do this. Meet me here in Tokyo, take the package home for me. Once I know it will make it safe back home, I’m done here, knowing that my duty to my country is completed.
I’m counting on you, Mac.
JG

MacGyver put down the paper, opened the new email that had arrived while he was working on the message, and translated the address. He took a deep breath, let it out and reached for the phone.
“Pete? Yeah, it’s MacGyver. I’m going to need a little time off…”
*
*
“Consider it done.” Quayle put down the receiver and smiled. He turned, catching sight of himself in the mirror. The training he’d done had changed his shape, broadening his shoulders and chest, narrowing his waist. His face was leaner too, his moustache looking faintly out of place as though it belonged to someone else.
Losing to MacGyver the second time had been a shock, both literally and figuratively. It had prompted him to make changes in how he operated, how he thought and how he looked after himself. He’d reinvented himself, developing his physical strength to match his mental agility. Jobs had been scarce after he’d crashed and burned so badly at the safe house, but he was starting to pick up more work now, and to make a new name for himself.
Yes, a retrieval job in Japan, besting a DXS operative, would fill out his reputation and his wallet very nicely…



Rollerskating at right angles to reality

 
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Posted: 16 January 2020 - 11:40 PM                                    
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Phoenix Operative
******

Posts: 838
Joined: 9 Mar 2013
Gender:  Female
Country: England
SAK owned: Commander

Favorites
Season: ---
Episode:Hallowe'en Knights
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket:  Black/Navy flight
House:  House boat



Part Two


“Japan? Wow, that’s quite a trip!” Pete grinned, then frowned as MacGyver didn’t immediately agree. “Mac, is everything alright?”
“Not so much.” Pete heard denim swish as MacGyver crossed his legs. “A friend got in touch this morning, and he’s got trouble.” Pete heard the chair creak as MacGyver leaned forwards. “A DXS friend.”
“With DXS-type trouble, am I right?” Pete nodded as MacGyver agreed. “Why doesn’t he contact his handler? Why tag you instead?”
“He doesn’t trust his handler.” MacGyver’s tone was grim. “Reckons he’s playing for the other team, and trying to have him killed. He’s tested the theory a couple of times, and he’s pretty sure. He knows me from way back, and I guess he trusts me.” MacGyver shrugged. “He wouldn’t have contacted me unless he was desperate, James is one of the most self-sufficient men I’ve ever met.”
“What’s he got?” Pete leaned forward, interested.
“Cable. Optical fibre cable that can transmit four hundred giga-bytes of data per second.” MacGyver chuckled at Pete’s expression. “I know, it sounded like pie in the sky to me too, but apparently the Japanese have found a way to make it work.”
“Well, that certainly would attract some unwanted attention!” Pete rubbed his chin. “And it would be great to be able to study an advance like that. Americans in Tokyo are common enough that one more ‘holidaymaker’ –“ He made air quotes – “Shouldn’t raise too many eyebrows. You should be OK.” He frowned. “You haven’t worked in Japan before, have you?”
“No, not even a flying visit.” MacGyver shook his head. “But I’ve globetrotted enough that there’s an outside chance of being recognised anyway. I’ll dust off Dexter Fillmore and give him an outing, just to be sure.”
“Well, good luck to you. And to Dexter!” Pete grinned and held out his hand, which MacGyver shook. “Come back in one piece, OK?”
“Yes sir!” MacGyver grinned and saluted.

*
*
Quayle had always preferred flying at night. He preferred the secrecy of it, enjoyed the anonymity that came with arriving somewhere new, surrounded by people but completely invisible, because it was 2am and everyone was so focussed on getting home that they didn’t notice anyone or anything around them. He smiled to himself as the plane banked sharply and the lights of Tokyo slid past the wing as they approached the airport.
The landing was smooth and quiet, the air crisp and cold when he stepped out of the airport. No-one looked at him as he boarded the train to Tokyo, passengers nodding with sleep or too wrapped up in their own concerns to notice the danger in their midst.
*
*
MacGyver squinted into the bright sunlight as the plane made a tight turn and lined up with Narita International Airport’s runway. Flying didn’t bother him as much as heights generally did, but he was still pleased when the wheels bumped down on the runway and the plane slowed. He pushed his ‘Dexter’ glasses up his nose, tightened the band on his ponytail and swung out of his seat, reaching into the overhead bin for his rucksack. He waited in line to get off the plane, stretching his cramped legs and back.
The air outside was cold and MacGyver pulled his red jacket tight around him, taking gloves out of the pockets and putting them on. He made his way to the train station, nodding and smiling at those around him, playing the part of the holidaymaker to the full.
The train was crowded and MacGyver found himself jammed up against a nervous-looking man in a suit and an older woman with four bags of shopping. The ride into Tokyo took a little over an hour, and MacGyver was glad when the train pulled into the station and he could get out of the carriage along with the rest of the passengers.
*
*
Quayle walked through Tokyo’s busy streets, familiarising himself with the area close to where his target had last been seen. The information he’d received suggested Grey was still here, despite some signs that he was becoming suspicious of his handler. He glanced around, seemingly enjoying the fine morning, but carefully cataloguing places and people, looking for one particular face…
There. Walking on the shady side of the street with his woolly hat pulled down over his ears. Talking to the market stallholder, his breath puffing out into the cold air. Shifting his tool bag to his other hand and fishing small change out of his pocket. Quayle stepped back into the shadow of a shop’s awning and watched.
Grey hung around the stalls, looking at things without buying anything. He kept a tight grip on his tool bag, shoving it under his chair when he stopped at a café and keeping the handle looped around his chair leg. He drank his tea slowly, his eyes never still, and Quayle moved, anxious not to be seen in the same place for too long.
A man with a rucksack hurried along the sidewalk and entered the café. He was tall and he moved badly – awkward and clumsy, frowning as though everything in Tokyo had been specifically designed to inconvenience him. His round shoulders and slight stoop spoke of a lifetime behind a desk, and he pulled a thick scarf around his face to keep out the cold. His clothes looked American rather than Japanese. A tourist, perhaps. Quayle shook his head, dismissing the fleeting sense of having seen him before as nothing more than the recognition that this man was also a foreigner.
Stepping into the warm café, the man paused to wipe the fog from his glasses before scanning the crowded room and speaking to Grey. Grey smiled, nodded and made room for the man to sit next to him at the small table. Quayle watched them make small talk, watched as the man stowed his rucksack under the table, ordered a drink and held the warm cup in both hands when it came. He asked Grey a question, reached under the table and rummaged in his rucksack, eventually coming up with a tourist map of Tokyo. Grey pointed at the map, explained something to the man, finished his drink and left, taking his tool bag with him.
Quayle stepped out from under the shop awning, preparing to cross the street and follow Grey. A movement caught his eye, and he turned, seeing the tall man come out of the café and hoist his rucksack onto his shoulder. The rucksack looked fuller now than it had when the man entered the café, and Quayle frowned. Then the man took off his glasses, cleaned them on his handkerchief and put them back on. He scanned the street, no longer looking grumpy and stooped, but sharp and straight and focussed. Quayle drew a breath, suddenly realising why the man looked familiar.
“MacGyver!” Quayle turned to look at Grey, knowing that he was supposed to catch and kill the man before stealing the reel of experimental cable from him. He turned back to MacGyver, and the rage he’d thought long buried bubbled to the surface. MacGyver must have been sent to intercept Grey and his prototype! MacGyver must have switched the reel into his bag when he went digging in it for the map! He gave Grey one last look and decided to follow MacGyver. Now that he knew where Grey was, he could catch up to him and finish his mission later. When MacGyver set off, Quayle blended into the crowd and followed him.



Rollerskating at right angles to reality

 
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Posted: 25 January 2020 - 01:20 AM                                    
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Phoenix Operative
******

Posts: 838
Joined: 9 Mar 2013
Gender:  Female
Country: England
SAK owned: Commander

Favorites
Season: ---
Episode:Hallowe'en Knights
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket:  Black/Navy flight
House:  House boat




Part Three


MacGyver hurried through the streets. Despite Pete’s assurances that there were plenty of Americans living and working in Tokyo, MacGyver had yet to see any, and at six feet three with long, sun-streaked hair, he felt very conspicuous. The riot of bright signs, neon lights and heavy traffic reminded him of New York and he smiled, half-expecting to see Bruce Willis running along in a grubby undershirt. He ducked into a shop, watching the people walking by and checking for familiar faces. So far he was pretty sure he wasn’t being tailed, but his conversation with Grey, and the prototype now weighing down his rucksack made him cautious.

He stepped out again and continued down the street, concentrating on being Dexter. He glanced in a shopfront mirror, checking the people behind him. He spotted a white face with a blond moustache, vaguely familiar. He blinked and looked again, but the man had gone.

MacGyver made his way across Tokyo’s busy centre, passing a museum and a sports centre. He went through the centre door and into the toilets. Locking himself in a stall, he took off his jacket, pulling out a black windbreaker and stuffing the red jacket in, on top of the reel of cable he’d taken from James Grey. He pulled a woolly hat over his hair, checked his changed appearance in the mirror above the basins and stepped out into the sports centre hallway.

*
Quayle watched MacGyver go into the sports centre. He followed him up the steps, scanned the hallway and noticed the toilet door swinging shut. He joined the end of the café queue and waited, watching the toilet door. A moment later it opened and MacGyver came out, now wearing a black coat and with his distinctive hair hidden by a hat. Quayle grinned, stepped out of the queue ad followed MacGyver back out onto the street.

*
MacGyver turned the corner, watching the street reflected in the shop window opposite. He frowned, seeing the moustached man in the glass. The man walked towards him, hands in his pockets. He moved light and swift, balanced and alert. MacGyver studied his reflection, trying to place his face. The man ran a hand through his thinning, sandy hair and MacGyver’s eyebrows shot up. What would Quayle be doing in Japan? And what were the odds that his presence here was a coincidence? MacGyver shook his head, stepping out to follow Quayle down the street. At least his pursuer didn’t constitute much of a danger to him…

*
Quayle frowned, realising that he’d lost sight of MacGyver. He stopped and turned around, just in time to see MacGyver dodge behind a hanging banner. He pushed his way through the crowd, elbowing shoppers and kids aside, catching up with MacGyver outside a noodle stand.

*
MacGyver saw Quayle realise he’d lost his quarry, turn and spot him. For a moment he considered running to keep the reel of optical fibre cable out of Quayle’s reach, but remembered his last encounter with the man, and stood his ground. If he took care of Quayle now, he wouldn’t have to be looking over his shoulder all the way back to California. He hooked the second strap of his rucksack over his shoulder and prepared to fight.

Quayle grinned as though he’d been given a present. He turned sideways on to MacGyver, planting his feet firmly. Lightning fast, he kicked, sinking his foot into MacGyver’s stomach. As MacGyver folded forwards, Quayle grabbed his hair through the hat and brought his knee up. Reacting on instinct, MacGyver covered his head, taking most of the blow on his forearms. The force of the strike surprised him and he stepped back, winded.

MacGyver slipped past Quayle’s next strike, but Quayle turned before MacGyver could grab hold of him, and MacGyver felt the back of Quayle’s fist crash into his ear. Head ringing, he seized hold of Quayle’s sleeve, planning to pull the smaller man off his feet. There was an explosion of movement and somehow Quayle was free, aiming another kick at MacGyver’s knee.
MacGyver backed up again, feeling the first fluttering of fear. This was not the Quayle he remembered, but something very different. This Quayle was fit and strong and deadly. This Quayle wasn’t wasting time monologuing and setting elaborate traps, but was coming at him again. MacGyver ducked behind the noodle stand, dipped up a ladle of boiling soup and flung it at Quayle.

Quayle dodged easily and MacGyver caught a flash of teeth under the man’s moustache as he grinned. Quayle wagged his finger at MacGyver and leaped lightly up onto the noodle seller’s cart. The cart tipped as Quayle sprang off, and MacGyver grabbed the saucepan lid to field Quayle’s incoming foot.

MacGyver barely noticed the noodle seller, raining down blows on them both with his ladle. He swung with the lid, feeling it connect with Quayle. He glanced over the top to see Quayle shaking out his hand. Then Quayle dropped out of sight and MacGyver leaped back, just avoiding a vicious sweep. Quayle spun back to his feet, back to the traffic.

Glancing behind Quayle, MacGyver noticed a fleet of bicycles speeding up the road. Turning the lid, he threw it like a frisbee, aiming at Quayle’s face. Quayle threw up an arm to block and took a step back. The resulting crash was spectacular as the bicycles ploughed into each other and the riders sprawled across the road. Cars screeched to a halt, police arrived and MacGyver fled down an alleyway before Quayle could extricate himself.

*
To begin with, MacGyver just ran, needing to put some distance between the reel of optical fibre and this new, deadlier version of Quayle. He’d seriously underestimated Quayle and, if it came to another confrontation, he wasn’t sure he’d win. He checked behind and around himself regularly, seeing no-one running behind him.
*

Quayle struggled out from underneath the fallen cyclists, ignored their shouting and grabbed the nearest bicycle, dragging it out of the confusion and pedalling away after MacGyver. Three streets and two dead ends later, he found him, head and shoulders above everyone else and moving fast.

*
MacGyver glanced over his shoulder, catching sight of Quayle speeding towards him. He ran faster and sprinted into the nearest building, an ornate red brick edifice lit up on all sides. The crowds inside filled all the available space and MacGyver pushed his way through as politely as he could, stooping to disguise his height. He was halfway across the pillared hall before he realised that he was in a railway station. He grinned, seeing a sign, and hurried through the crowds towards it.

*
“NO!” Quayle pushed his bicycle faster, leaping off it and following MacGyver into the station. If MacGyver got onto a train, he would lose him yet again. He stood on a suitcase, ignoring the outraged squawk from the owner, and scanned the crowded hall. “Ha!” He spotted MacGyver on the far side of the hall, heading for a sign reading ‘SHINKANSEN’

*
MacGyver raced down the platform and threw himself into the front carriage, just behind the streamlined nose of the bullet train. He ducked down below the height of the windows, letting out the breath he’d been holding as the doors slid shut and the train started to move. He stood up and glanced out at the platform as it slid past the window. He frowned, not seeing Quayle as he’d hoped to. Surely the man couldn’t have caught him up and got on the train too…
The train sped up, smooth and quiet, and as the scenery flashed past the windows, MacGyver felt himself start to relax. Once he got to the next station, he would work out where he was and how to leave the country as quickly as possible.

*
Quayle allowed himself a minute, leaning against the wall of the gently rocking train and waiting until he stopped panting. As fit as he was, the sprint across the city had taken everything he had. Now that he’d made it onto the train with MacGyver, he had time. Neither of them would be getting off until the next station – at up to 200mph, trying to jump off would be suicide, even were it possible.
“Here I come, MacGyver.” Quayle grinned, hard and fierce. “Third time lucky!” He pushed away from the wall, rolled his shoulders and set off towards the front of the train.



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