Unbreakable Camels
part seven, Choose Your Sides

Mac's Voice-over:
There's a saying about people: 'The bigger they are, the harder they fall'. When it comes to buildings, I've found that the same is usually true. Huge, strong buildings made of stone and iron are believed to be hard to break into because they look hard... but the truth is that the bigger they are, the more ways there are to get inside... and out.

Doors, windows, ventilation ducts, drainage... the more rooms, the more doors; the more walls, the more windows-- the more stories, the more stairs... you see my point.

Back in my sandy, camel-scented robes it was easy to follow and learn where Rafe was keeping Angela. The Fortress it was called... but it should have been 'The Big Stone Swiss Cheese'. There were plenty of guards lounging in the shade by the front gate, but I could see more than a few easy ways to get past them. Getting inside would be no problem... it was getting Angela and myself out in one piece that would take a piece of doing.

I was just one stranger in this strange land, with the wrong shade of tan and an accent that would give me away the moment I breathed a single word. If I wanted to help Angela, I needed to be subtle. I was banking on the fact that Rafe and his goons didn't seem to know the meaning of that word.

But I was going to need some help... and of the three friends I had in this part of the world, there was only two still walking around free... and only one of those who wasn't a camel.

⌂

Anthony Sullivan was angry. The whole situation was ridiculous. Tony had a job to do... a job he did extremely well… a job that he had been sent a very long distance to do. He wasn't a spy, a snitch, a bounty hunter, or an assassin... he was a gunrunner. Apparently, Tony thought bitterly, somebody hadn't read my résumé very thoroughly!

Ryerson was a power-drunk mercenary and his way of doing business turned Tony's stomach. Tony had half a mind to pack up his things, set fire to the munitions, and check out the weather in the South of France. But he knew if he did that... nowhere in the world would be far enough away from Chicago. The long arm of the Syndicate to find him where ever he ran.

Anyway... the problem wasn't about the Family... it was about His Highness Dave Ryerson.

The fact that MacGyver was gone when he got back to the bunker did nothing to sooth his frustration. Tony had been sure that he'd convinced the man to leave the country with Alfie. Getting Mac free and clear of Afghanistan and that bloodthirsty Rafe had been the only thing that kept Tony from losing his temper with Ryerson.

Now he felt just as sure that Mac had gone to Jiru, searching for his American traitor.

Tony was halfway down the tunnel to the oasis and where he kept his vehicle hidden before he realized that there was nothing he could do. Flying back to Jiru in a fury would accomplish nothing. If he found Mac and someone saw them together, it was likely that they would both lose their lives.

Tony slowly returned to the cavernous room and dropped into a chair. He put his elbows on the table and covered his face with his hands. All he could do was wait. And hope.

Time passed. Tony woke to find his forehead resting on the pillow of his forearms. The bunker was quiet and dark. He reached out in the darkness for the lantern he knew was in the center of the table. His fingers found it and toggled the on/off button, but nothing happened. The battery was dead.

He groped in his pocket for a lighter but froze as he saw faint illumination. The light was coming from the tunnel that led out to the hidden exit near the oasis.

Tony slipped out of the chair and crouched, drawing his gun. Whoever was coming down the tunnel was taking care not to make noise. The light flickered and wavered, growing very slowly brighter as it came closer. Tony hurried to the wall next to the entrance to the tunnel, pressing himself flat and raising the gun. He drew the hammer back on the revolver with his thumb. When the hammer locked back with an audible click, the wavering light suddenly went out, dropping darkness over both Tony and the intruder.

Tony breathed softly and kept utterly still. He could hear something nearby, in the tunnel; soft movements and light footfalls. There came a scraping-scratching sound and then right in front of him light flared, illuminating MacGyver in silhouette. His back was to Tony as he walked into the cavern, holding a burning match in his fingers.

Tony sighed and uncocked the weapon. The sound made Mac turn around. He held up the matchstick and grinned at Tony. "You forget to pay your lighting bill?"

"Oh, you are a smart-aleck!" Tony said, holstering his gun. "Are you trying to get yourself killed... or just make my hair turn gray prematurely?" He slapped a switch next to the door and turned on the overhead lights. "That's weird," he said, his finger lingering on the switch.

"What is?" asked Mac, shaking out the match and pinching it with moistened fingertips. He didn't like the idea of an open flame around so much ordinance.

"The lights were out. They were on earlier... I dozed off at the table." Tony looked around to see if anything was missing. "Someone turned them off. Was it you?"

Mac shook his head. "I just got back from Jiru. Maybe it was Alfie?"

Tony shook his head. "It couldn't be. Alfie's not supposed to return until tomorrow. You are going to go with him, right? I though we had a deal." Tony's confusion melted back into anger, and his thoughts jumped the tracks leading back to an angry place. "Jeez! You just don't ‘get’ it, do you, Mac? I am the only man in Afghanistan that wouldn't kill you for a dollar! What in God's name possessed you to go into Jiru?"

Mac walked to the table where Tony had been sitting. "Tony, I appreciate what you've done-- don't think that I don't! But there's more at stake here than my mission or your job."

"That's right!" Tony said. "Our lives, for instance!"

"More than that," Mac added. He picked up the lantern flipped the switch on and off. "Dead." He looked around. "Do you have any bleach?"

Tony gave him a blank look. "What?"

"Bleach... do you have any? Or anything with a high concentration of chlorine?"

"Lanterns are fueled with kerosene, MacGyver... even in Afghanistan." Tony went to the row of cabinets and opened a door, pulling out a half-full jug. He unscrewed the cap and sniffed. "And that lantern runs on batteries, anyway. What do you need this for... trying to get out a stain?"

"Nope." Mac took the jug and set it on the table next to the lantern. "How about some brake fluid?"

"Brake fluid... are you kidding?"

Mac wandered toward the workbench, picking through tools and the odd objects scattered about. He glanced over at Tony and answered, "No, I'm not kidding. I saw your dune buggy. And as there aren't very many service stations out here in the desert, so I figure you must do your own maintenance. Oh, and by the way... do you know a woman named Sister Anne Christine?"

Tony shrugged. "Sure. She's a nun. She works for Father Deigas at the mission on the edge of town. An exercise in futility if you ask me. The folks around here aren't exactly into chistianity and brotherly love."

"Worked for, you mean." Mac found a box of industrial latex gloves in the bench-drawer. "Past tense. Father Deigas is dead. He died in the Fortress… and since Rafe has spent the last several weeks chasing me through the desert, someone else is responsible for his death. When I have that someone else’s name—and Angela is free—then I'll be ready to leave."

Tony clenched his fists. "If what you say is true, I'll be going with you."

"I think you already know that it's true," Mac set the bottle down and turned to face his friend. "Tony, I'm gonna need a few things to pull this off... and I'm going to need your help."

"Take whatever you want. I'm not into killing priests and abducting nuns... that's not in my job description. The Family sent me here to provide weapons... not to create the demand! When I get word back home and tell the godfather about what that S.O.B.'s been up to-- heads are gonna roll... I guarantee it!" He walked over past the workbench and took several small bottles of brake fluid out of a small box. He pushed them into Mac's hands. "His name is Ryerson... Dave Ryerson."

Mac smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Tony."

Tony watched as Mac shoved some survival gear into a satchel, leaving a few items on the table. When Mac started to dismantle an alarm clock, Tony realized what he was doing.

"You know-- you really don't need to scrounge a bomb. I've got plenty of explosives here in the bat-cave."

Mac looked up at Tony, grinning, as he pulled a red pocketknife out of his pocket and flipped out a small screwdriver. "Explosives can be traced. I don't want you implicated in this... in fact, I need you to stay in solid with your bosses. Your credibility with the Syndicate must not be compromised."

"I don't get it, Mac," Tony confessed, running his fingers through his unruly curls as if to massage understanding into his head, "Whose side am I supposed to be on... theirs or yours?"

"You’re supposed to be on your own side, Tony. I don't want you to turn on them..." Mac gave his friend a sly smile, "... I want you to turn me in!"

~~~tbc