I was on a roll again, apparently, and had another story I just had to get out of my head and share with you guys. Enjoy!
Do be warned though that it's going to be a fairly intense story, not so much in this part as it will be in others. Just keep that in mind, but I think you'll like it.
Shake Hands with the Devil Part One
Rated: PG
Everything appeared to be in order inside the luxurious banquet hall—not a single tablecloth soiled, every garnish aligned perfectly on every dish, the silver dining ware polished to a brilliant shine, the honorable, illustrious guests adorned in immaculate, glamorous formal wear. The only person who appeared to be out of place was MacGyver. Uncomfortable in his stiffly starched and pressed tuxedo, he kept fiddling with his tight bowtie, straining to get the air he felt it was constricting, an action that would have appalled the tailor if he could see his perfect tie slowly being destroyed with each tug of MacGyver’s long fingers. Trying to tame his usually unruly, feathered hair with mousse to make him appear more civilized according to Pete’s standards for the dress code that evening also made him feel uncomfortable, his freely flowing locks matted against his head, making him feel as if he was wearing a helmet. His styling products still did little to calm the cowlick that often stuck up in the back of his head, and it remained stubbornly prominent. Still, he passed for a gentleman, a highly sophisticated and gorgeous one at that. Women kept giving him admiring, sometimes flirtatious glances, and while he was flattered, blushing shyly and smiling at them, he didn’t understand how he could possibly look good at all, feeling out of character without his familiar, comfortable jeans and T-shirts.
Pete, once he was finished speaking with some of the dignitaries in the room, sidled quietly towards him. “Well, you clean up nicely,” he said, smiling in amusement when he saw the irritated expression on Mac’s face, showing his obvious discomfort.
“Oh stop it,” MacGyver said, once again pulling on his bowtie. “I feel ridiculous in this thing, like I’m at the prom or something. Besides, you look better than I do.”
“Oh come on, Mac, it’s not that bad.”
“Tell me again why we had to dress up for this thing.”
Pete chuckled. “We’re holding a reception honoring a man who could be the next leader of his country in South America, a particularly unstable, violent region,” he said. “He could be their best hope for democracy after he overthrew that vile, brutal dictator Alejandro Velazquez. How do you want us to welcome him to our country during his visit? Wearing tattered, dirty jeans and leather jackets?” He asked, taking an obvious gibe at MacGyver’s usual wardrobe.
“Well, it’s a thought,” MacGyver said, smiling.
Pete’s expression grew serious. “Listen Mac, I appreciate you being here as part of the Phoenix liaison,” he said. “you didn’t have to come. I…I know you endured a lot when you were taken captive by Velazquez while on an assignment, and it can’t be easy to be reminded of that time…”
MacGyver sighed and placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder, strength in his eyes, showing he wasn’t concerned. “Listen Pete, that happened five years ago,” he said. “I’ve had plenty of time to heal. I won’t say it’s always been easy for me, but I’m fine. Anyway, if this man is his country’s next great hope for freedom from oppression, then I want to be here to meet him. Anyone who can turn that area around will be helping the others who suffered at the hands of Velazquez as well—especially innocent women and children who died starving in the streets under his rule. That’s what I care about most.”
Pete smiled, impressed with his friend’s strength of character. He squeezed his arm. “Well, thank you for coming,” he said.
Applause erupted as the speaker introducing the new leader for the troubled country appeared on the stage and stood behind the podium. MacGyver, Pete, and the rest of the room comprised of senators, congressmen, and other delegates took their seats, waiting for the speech to begin.
“Carlos Gutierrez is a man of vision, a man of the future,” the speaker said. “With the help of his guerilla forces, he managed to overthrow one of the worst dictators in his country’s history, a brutal regime engaged in the perpetual slaughter and genocide of its own people. With his strong desire for peace and stability in the volatile region, he has bold plans for his people, helping to restore adequate housing, education, healthcare, employment—returning a sense of humanity and dignity to the long beaten and terrorized. He has a deep love for his country and respects his people, proud of their rich cultural heritage that was virtually wiped away into oblivion by Velazquez. He knows progress will not be easy, but he has the faith and full support of his country backing him, knowing that it is possible for them not to live in squalor and fear anymore, that his country’s infrastructure can be rebuilt. He has received the attention of several world governments dedicated to the spread of peace and prosperity, and now he is here in the United States, his favorite country, its model of democracy one which he wishes to emulate in his own war-torn, poverty-stricken, shattered country. He is bold, daring—an innovator in a region that desperately needs a dreamer with a purpose. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to introduce to you…Carlos Gutierrez.”
More applause erupted as Carlos Gutierrez entered. Pete and MacGyver exchanged looks, wondering if he was truly as remarkable and impressive as he was touted to be, hoping he could indeed bring change just as he promised. The applause lasted for several minutes, several in the audience cheering, giving him a rousing ovation. Smiling pleasantly, Carlos accepted their praise, waiting patiently until the applause died down before he began his speech. MacGyver watched him, feeling there was something vaguely familiar about him. As the applause continued, the feeling that he knew him grew stronger, almost instinctual. Something about the appearance was wrong. It had been altered. He had lost some weight and gained a closely cropped, neat beard, but it was the same man. Even his benevolent smile couldn’t conceal the coldness in his eyes, the lifeless, dull look of a man with no concept of a conscience. When he began to speak, his voice had changed as well, but MacGyver still recognized it, its deep cadence sending shivers down his spine and cold sweats to break out all over his body. He stared at him for a long time, thinking it couldn’t be the same man, but it was. There was no denying it. His memory was too vivid and wouldn’t fail him. He almost thought those eyes were staring right at him, taunting him. A crack of a whip slashed through his memory and he flinched, almost as if he could feel its sting on his skin all over again.
Pete saw his stunned reaction, at first wondering if he had become as captivated and mesmerized by the new hope emerging for the South American country as everyone else was, but as he looked closer he could tell his friend was clearly disturbed by something, his posture growing rigid, his complexion pale and soaked with sweat, his dark eyes filled with terror. He was clearly uncomfortable, and this time it had nothing to do with his formal attire. He leaned over to whisper in MacGyver’s ear.
“Are you all right, Mac?” He asked.
“I just…need to step outside…not feeling well,” MacGyver muttered. “Excuse me.”
Pete watched him as he struggled to stand, wobbling weakly on his feet, staggering towards the exit. He couldn’t understand what had just happened. He wasn’t behaving that way until Carlos Gutierrez took the stage. Something about the man triggered something, perhaps some past memory about that part of the world he had fought so long and hard to forget about. Sighing, Pete knew it had been a mistake to ask Mac to come. He was still traumatized by what had happened, even though he tried to deny it and place the years between him and the events. Glancing at the exit, then back at Carlos, seeing nothing unsettling or threatening about the man, he debated whether to leave during his speech or to stay, showing proper courtesy. Still, matters of international diplomacy were never as important as friendship, especially when it came to MacGyver, who was clearly reliving something dreadful and needed someone to help him get through the flashbacks and nightmares. After all, he had gladly done it before during those first few turbulent months of pain and hopelessness when it seemed MacGyver would never recover, never for one moment considering that he had anywhere else to be. Deciding to follow him, Pete stood as quietly as he could and tried to remain unobtrusive so that he wouldn’t appear rude or interrupting the speech.
***
Pete found him in the men’s room, dunking his head into a basin of water, trembling and gasping for breath.
“MacGyver?” He asked gently, trying not to startle him. “What’s going on?”
Looking at Pete with his emotive, haunting eyes, MacGyver released a heavy sigh and leaned against the wall, sliding down it until he was in a sitting position, his damp hair trickling droplets of water down his tuxedo.
“I’ve seen him before,” he said. “I know who he really is.”
“Who? MacGyver, what are you talking about?”
“Carlos Gutierrez,” he said. “He was different then, had a different name, a different appearance, but it’s definitely the same man.”
“What?”
“Pete…he was acting as an agent of Velazquez. He was my torturer.”
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
Yes, you'll learn more about Alejandro. Some of this story occurs in flashbacks, and he's from the past. I never wrote a separate story about him, though. I'll try to post the next part soon! 
Thanks! 
If this site was able to support it, you could illustrate my stories. 
I really would love to... but I would need someone to harrass me every day. I'm sort of lacking in the confidence department! You have no idea how hard I had to think on just deciding to put that image in the internet and then let you know. I really need someone to kick my butt to get my gears running.
