[The True MacGyver]

Chapter 7: A Rushed Introduction
Mac raised his hands in surrender, the pistol still gleaming dangerously. Suddenly a lamp came crashing down on “James” head. Porcelain chips rained on his head. He looked puzzled as he collapsed on the floor. Mac looked up. Karen was looking down at him. “Karen, I presume?” Mac said.
“Of course I am. But my alias was Diana Freeman. Thanks for blowing my cover!” She said in a noticeably deeper voice. She jumped off the desk and grabbed the unconscious man’s gun. She held it tightly. Mac stood up. He looked at her in an odd fashion. She returned the stare. “What’s the matter? Am I not what you expected?” Mac shook his head and returned to the letter on the desk. Karen spoke as Mac shuffled through the pile. “So you are the legendary MacGyver, huh? What business do you have mettling in my case?”
“Ordinarily nothing, but we’re both in danger,” he answered still focused on the papers.
“Well now we are!”
“That’s not what I meant. A valuable disk got into the wrong hands and all Phoenix Foundation operatives are in mortal danger. But if I’m right, the entire world could be, too.”
“No doubt this is your fault! Well if we’re going to work together, let’s get something straight. I don’t have any patience for your little makeshift gadgets. If something can be done using weaponry, it will be! Did you get all that?”
“I think I got the gist of it,” Mac said as the door handle rattled again. He shook his head in frustration. Karen turned and aimed the pistol at the door. Mac ran to the brick wall, searching for the mechanism. The loose brick was gone! Mac looked to the back window and thought the obvious. He hefted the chair and heaved it through the frosty pane. A clatter of shards falling was overshadowed by the wind. Mac cleared the edges with his sleeve and motioned to Karen. She lowered the gun to her side in awe.
Mac stepped through the opening and saw a garage filled with about ten cars to his right. He smiled and ran toward it. He slid in between the vehicles and found a pristine sedan. He pulled out a paperclip and quickly jimmied open the lock. The door swung ajar and he sat inside. He bent under the steering wheel and fiddled with the multi-colored wires. Soon the car hummed to life. He sat back up and pushed the car into gear. He hit the pedal and the car pulled into the brilliant sunlight. Karen ran to the car, much differently than she approached James. She swung open the door and dove inside. Mac floored the accelerator and the automobile roared in excitement. A collection of machine gun-toting men filed out into the snowy drive. Mac ducked beneath the windshield, Karen following suit. Mac slammed the horn, hearing the gunfire. Instantly the windshield received several thuds. Mac looked up and saw spiderweb cracks on the sides of the glass. Bullet-proof! I bet that isn’t standard Mac thought as he saw the men dive to the sides to evade the wide car. He passed them and swerved around the castle’s corner. On the left wall was the locked gate that halted him in the first place. He bit his lip in concentration and cut the wheel in the gate’s direction. The wheels spun around, leaving an arc in the snow, and left the car aiming at the iron entry. Mac felt the gas pedal hit the soft floor and both of them leaned back in the added speed. They braced for impact as the car crashed through the bars like a hot knife through butter. Mac drove straight down the avenue he strolled on before. Mac saw a snowbank approaching. He judged the possibility of jumping it. The car was closing the gap fast. Mac made a quick decision and spun around the curve. He saw it lead to a mountainside road. It turned out of view. Mac swerved through traffic and bumped onto the road. A well rusted sign read “AIRPORT” in the local language. Mac slowed down and maneuvered the steep inclines with skill and caution. Eventually it leveled out onto a plateau and he pulled the car to a stop. He stepped out and opened the door for Karen. She gave him a dirty look as she strode to the small terminal ( a wooden shack) with professionalism. He smirked and shut the door. He followed her. Within a few hours they were headed back to Los Angeles. Mac was apprehensive about sleeping, so he tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. The man in Morocco knew my name. Murdoc knew I had the disk. There was a package heading to James, sent by ZMQ. I don’t know what this all means yet, but I’ve got a bad feeling about it. He looked out the small oval window and saw the purple and orange streaked sunset. Puffy clouds veiled the brilliant orange ball of fire that was the sun. Mac smiled, the light illuminating his face. At least he could relax for a while.



Please Comment

[ghostdoll]

I hate attitude women that treat MacGyver like dirt. I hope Karen/Diana get her feet stock in doggy poo. LOL

Pretty interesting so far. Keep the chapters coming. There's really a terrible void of MacGyver fan fiction that needs to be filled at once!

[ghostdoll]

Suggestion:

Chapter 7: A Rushed Introduction

Mac raised his hands in surrender, the pistol still gleaming dangerously. Suddenly a lamp came crashing down on “James” head. Porcelain chips rained on his head. He looked puzzled as he collapsed on the floor. Mac looked up. Karen was looking down at him.

“Karen, I presume?” Mac said.

“Of course I am. But my alias was Diana Freeman. Thanks for blowing my cover!” She retorted in a noticeably deeper voice.

She jumped off the desk and grabbed the unconscious man’s gun. She held it tightly. Mac stood up. He looked at her in an odd fashion. She returned the stare.

“What’s the matter? Am I not what you expected?”

Mac shook his head and returned to the letter on the desk. Karen spoke as Mac shuffled through the pile.

“So you are the legendary MacGyver, huh? What business do you have mettling in my case?”

“Ordinarily nothing, but we’re both in danger,” he answered still focused on the papers.

“Well now we are!”

“That’s not what I meant. A valuable disk got into the wrong hands and all Phoenix Foundation operatives are in mortal danger. But if I’m right, the entire world could be, too.”

“No doubt this is your fault! Well if we’re going to work together, let’s get something straight. I don’t have any patience for your little makeshift gadgets. If something can be done using weaponry, it will be! Did you get all that?”

“I think I got the gist of it,” Mac responded as the door handle rattled again.

He shook his head in frustration. Karen turned and aimed the pistol at the door. Mac ran to the brick wall, searching for the mechanism. The loose brick was gone! Mac looked to the back window and thought the obvious.

He hefted the chair and heaved it through the frosty pane. A clatter of shards falling was overshadowed by the wind. Mac cleared the edges with his sleeve and motioned to Karen. She lowered the gun to her side in awe.

Mac stepped through the opening and saw a garage filled with about ten cars to his right. He smiled and ran toward it. He slid in between the vehicles and found a pristine sedan. He pulled out a paperclip and quickly jimmied open the lock. The door swung ajar and he sat inside.

He bent under the steering wheel and fiddled with the multi-colored wires. Soon the car hummed to life. He sat back up and pushed the car into gear. He hit the pedal and the car pulled into the brilliant sunlight.

Karen ran to the car, much differently than she approached James. She swung open the door and dove inside. Mac floored the accelerator and the automobile roared in excitement. A collection of machine gun-toting men filed out into the snowy drive. Mac ducked beneath the windshield, Karen following suit.

Mac slammed the horn, hearing the gunfire. Instantly the windshield received several thuds. Mac looked up and saw spiderweb cracks on the sides of the glass. Bullet-proof! I bet that isn’t standard Mac thought as he saw the men dive to the sides to evade the wide car. He passed them and swerved around the castle’s corner. On the left wall was the locked gate that halted him in the first place.

He bit his lip in concentration and cut the wheel in the gate’s direction. The wheels spun around, leaving an arc in the snow, and left the car aiming at the iron entry. Mac felt the gas pedal hit the soft floor and both of them leaned back in the added speed. They braced for impact as the car crashed through the bars like a hot knife through butter.

Mac drove straight down the avenue he strolled on before. Mac saw a snowbank approaching. He judged the possibility of jumping it. The car was closing the gap fast. Mac made a quick decision and spun around the curve. He saw it lead to a mountainside road. It turned out of view. Mac swerved through traffic and bumped onto the road.

A well rusted sign read “AIRPORT” in the local language.

Mac slowed down and maneuvered the steep inclines with skill and caution. Eventually it leveled out onto a plateau and he pulled the car to a stop. He stepped out and opened the door for Karen.

She gave him a dirty look as she strode to the small terminal (a wooden shack) with professionalism. He smirked and shut the door. He followed her. Within a few hours they were headed back to Los Angeles. Mac was apprehensive about sleeping, so he tried to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

The man in Morocco knew my name. Murdoc knew I had the disk. There was a package heading to James, sent by ZMQ. I don’t know what this all means yet, but I’ve got a bad feeling about it.

He looked out the small oval window and saw the purple and orange streaked sunset. Puffy clouds veiled the brilliant orange ball of fire that was the sun. Mac smiled, the light illuminating his face. At least he could relax for a while.