Mac in Marintique, ch 5
Playing Rough

Jack wasn’t home when they arrived. Both Mike and Mac were exhausted by their long day. They agreed that they’d be more likely to solve the puzzle with clear heads and daylight, so Mike took the bunk and Mac took the hammock on the porch, leaving the couch for Jack should he wander in during the wee hours.

Swaying in the tropical breeze, sleep came quickly to the tired Minnesota boy. His dreams kept him away from true rest, though, filled as they were with vague fears and urgency. MacGyver woke when the sun lifted high enough over the horizon to break apart the wall of clouds and touch his face with fingers of warmth. He didn’t want to open his eyes, because he knew once he did, he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. He buried his nose under his blanket and played opossum.

The planks that made up the deck of the porch were very weathered and warped. They creaked audibly as someone walked across them, even though-- Mac could tell just by the sounds-- the person was moving very carefully.

When they were very close, standing right over Mac where he lay strung in the saddle of a hammock, Mac made his move. In one smooth motion, he flung the blanket over the head of the intruder and rolled out of the sling, taking the man’s legs out from under him. The guy went down in a tumble and Mac somersaulted, coming up with his fist drawn back to strike.

“Argh! Mac… wait!” The voice was muffled by the blanket, but Mac heard him in time to pull back his punch.

“Jack? What’re you doing… sneaking up on a guy like that? I almost creamed you… I’m still tempted to!” Mac pulled the blanket off of his friend, who sat on the floor-boards rubbing his head where he’d bumped it against the wall.

“Consider us ‘even’,” Jack retorted. “I may have a concussion, thank-you-very-much!”

“Sorry.” Mac offered him a hand to help him up.

Jack readily accepted, clasping Mac’s elbow and allowing him to pull him smoothly to his feet. “Forget it. Let’s go.” Jack turned to head into the bungalow.

“Go? What are you talking about, Jack?” Mac asked, following him.

“We got boat to catch, Mac-me-boyo. Remember? Spain? Barcelona? Orange liquor and black lace? I made all the arrangements last night… we’re leaving with the tide.”

“Jack! But we… “

“I got us packed up and ready last night! It’s all done. All we have to do is get to the marina before 9am...”

“You know, I wasn’t entirely serious about leaving immediately...”

“Why not? We’ve been here for weeks…”

“Three days, Jack.”

“… Seems like more. We gotta keep moving… we’re young and restless! And I got us a great deal with the captain of a small freighter. Booked us all passage in first-rate cabins. We’re good to go! Let’s get Mike and book it out of here…” Jack had been walking headlong through the doorway but he came up quick, so quick that Mac bumped into him from behind.

“Jack! Uh… oh.” Mac stopped when he saw Mike standing in the midst of the room, her luggage open and scattered around the room. “What happened?”

“We’ve been robbed!” Jack announced. His voice was almost shrill.

Mike stared at him coldly. “No, we haven’t been robbed.” Her eyes flashed and both Jack and Mac felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped about twenty degrees. “In fact, it looks as though someone has made… a deposit.”

Inside the leather bag she was holding, relieved of the once-clean and folded contents, glinted something yellow and shiny. “Have either of you seen a stray leprechaun looking for his lost pot o’ gold?”


⌂

“Jack… did you think I wouldn’t notice that my bag was suddenly thirty pounds heavier?”

Jack offered a lame smile. “What kind of gentleman would I be to allow a lady to carry her own bag?”

Mike punched Jack in the arm. “I always carry my own bag… you know that!”

Mac pulled open his own leather-bound satchel. It, too, seemed unusually heavy. “Hey… Santa Claus visited me, too!” He cocked his head toward Jack. “I guess I’ve been a really, really good boy this year… it’s only July!” He tossed the bag into Jack’s hands.

Jack looked down, his worried frown smoothing into a look of wonder as he gazed at the gold. Mac slapped his shoulder to nudge him out of his trance.

“Okay… spill, Jack. Where did this come from, and how did it get into our luggage,” Mac glanced over at Mike with an ‘as if we didn’t know already’ look on his face.

Jack opened his mouth to answer, his eye beginning to twitch even before he spoke.

“And don’t lie to us, Jack!” Mike added sharply.

Jack sighed, closing the bag and hugging it to his chest. “I found it when I was diving. I swear… I just found it!”

“And so you 'just' took it!” Mac closed his eyes and massaged his forehead as if pained.

“It’s pirate treasure, Mac-- free for the taking! Finder’s; keepers!”

“Jack…” Mac tugged the bag open and grabbed one of the coins. He examined it closely, turning it over in his long fingers. “I doubt that the old Spanish Conquistadors were dealing in South African currency dated… nineteen seventy-seven!” He let the piece fall back among its brethren with a clink. “Those are krugerrands, Jack-- not pieces-of-eight!”

“But… I found them,” Jack said again, weakly.

“I think we should turn them over to the authorities,” Mike said, her fists propped on her hips. “They’re probably dirty… from drug dealers or white slavers or something awful like that.”

“We can’t give them to the cops!” Jack protested. “You know who these local uniforms are… they might be crooked… or they might even be ‘in on it’!”

“I vote we bury it in the sand, or toss it out into the ocean where you found them,” Mac said. “Come on, Jack… we’d never get them through Security or Customs.”

“That’s why we take a boat! I got it all planned out… it’s brilliant, Mac! Mike! It can’t miss! We sail to Spain… we could hitchhike to Switzerland… no questions asked… we’ll be rich!”

“We’ll never make it past Port Authority in Spain… they’re gonna look through our luggage, you know.”

“How’re they gonna prove that they don’t belong to us?” Jack insisted petulantly. In a more reasonable, calmer tone, he continued, “This is my chance… and I’m gonna take it. If you guys don’t want to help, then I’ll do it alone.” He looked at his friends, his eyes pleading. “Please, guys. Please come with me. This is something we could share!” He took two pieces of the gold and handed one each to his friends. “Just look at them. Feel them. They’re real… and they are ours.”

Mike’s eyes grew a little dreamy as she hefted the weighty coin in her hand. “Well… if we reported finding these coins… and the owners proved to be criminals… we’d get to keep them, fair and clean… wouldn’t we?”

“Mike?” Mac glanced between the two of them, wondering if they had both lost their minds. He snapped his fingers in front of their faces as if trying to wake them up. Mike blinked at him, rubbing the coin against her lower lip.

“What, Mac? What?” Jack said quickly, trying to keep Mike on his side. “You can give your share to charity if you don’t want to keep it… come on!”

Mac stared at his friends, feeling his walls slowly beginning to crumble. “This is insane,” he finally said, raising his hands in defeat.

“Great!” Jack looked as if he were on the verge of doing a jig. He rushed forward to hug Mac, who straight-armed him off. “Thanks, Mac! You’re not going to regret this! I swear…” Jack bounced on his toes, then whisked Mike up in a hug and whirled her around.

“I already do,” Mac said glumly, fighting to keep a smile off of his face watching his friends’ antics. “So what’s your plan? I know you’ve got one…”

~~~tbc

Isn't that kinda like leaving a puppy out in the dark?

Oh no Mac! Don't do it! Sucker!