Phoenix Field Agent
Posts: 1,889
Joined: 11 Jan 2006
Gender: Female
Country: USA
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Season: season 3
Episode:Passages
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Black leather
House: House boat
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Speechless Part Four
Rated: PG
Prison life should have humbled Brandon, made him remorseful. Instead, when Nikki saw him behind the bulletproof glass that separated them, he had the same arrogant smirk. No longer was he trying to imitate MacGyver’s appearance, his hair cut in an institutional, uniform style, short and bristled. He wore the standard issue orange jumpsuit that looked several sizes too large for him, baggy and bulky, almost sack-like, enveloping his body and making it look formless. His small, elfin features made him once again appear deceptively innocent and boyish.
“I’ll get straight to the point,” Nikki said, sitting down across from him and the partition, deciding not to waste precious time on pleasantries. “Something is wrong with MacGyver.”
Brandon’s lips curled in amusement. “I’m terribly sorry to hear that,” he said in a mocking tone. “Back in the nuthouse, is he?”
Clenching her jaws, Nikki did all she could to restrain her seething rage, knowing that his cruel remark was designed to taunt her, to rile her so that he could derive perverse pleasure and entertainment out of watching her explode in anger. She was determined not to give him the satisfaction, remaining composed and rational.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no, he’s not,” she said. “He was found unconscious during a ski vacation with Pete. Ever since then, he’s been incapable of speaking properly, his words disjointed and incoherent. The doctors have run multiple tests on him, yet they can find nothing wrong with him, medically or otherwise, to account for his severe language impairment.”
Brandon looked down at his fingernails as if bored. “What do you want from me? Concern? Sympathy?” He asked, scoffing, a disdainful scowl on his face.
“Just shut up and allow me to finish,” Nikki said, sighing in irritation. “So far, he’s been able to communicate with us through his basic knowledge of sign language. He believes something is going to happen to a public official I have been assigned to protect, that his life is in danger, yet he cannot provide us with many details or information.”
“I suppose there is going to be a point to your inane story?” Brandon asked, still staring down at his fingernails.
“Yes, there is,” Nikki said. “I believe someone deliberately did this to MacGyver because he witnessed something, learned of a plot to harm this official I am in charge of during his visit here. They discovered that he had overheard their plans and crippled his language abilities so he couldn’t reveal what he knows to the authorities.”
Brandon looked up from his fingernails, seemingly interested in what she had to say for the first time. Arching an eyebrow, he leaned forward in his hard plastic chair until he was nearly touching the glass, staring at her.
“So, how is this related to me?” He asked.
“Something happened to MacGyver that we can’t explain. Something might happen to a high profile international leader on my watch. I work for The Phoenix Foundation. Do you see the pattern, here?”
“Not really, but I must say I find what you’re telling me quite scintillating.”
Nikki knew he was teasing her again and being condescending, but she continued.
“Look, whoever did this had to have some special intelligence about The Phoenix Foundation and our activities. They had to have access to substances that cause damage but leave no chemical trace in the body.”
“So, what do you want to know from me?” Brandon asked.
“All I want to know is if it’s possible that your organization is somehow involved in this.”
Brandon sighed, leaning back in his chair, resting his handcuffed hands on his stomach. “Anything is possible, I suppose,” he said. “I did warn you once that we were not finished with our plans. You may have been successful at disrupting those plans for a time by apprehending me, but they will return. As for what you’re telling me now, I cannot say for certain that it is them. After all, I’ve been locked away in here, unable to contact them. So, if you came here looking for some information from me that would help you, I’m afraid you’re out of luck. You’ll never find them, never know the truth.” He grinned as if pleased.
“Well then, I guess we’re done,” Nikki said, standing, gesturing to the guards that her visit was over and that they could escort Brandon back to his cell.
Watching as the massive, bulky guards grabbed Brandon’s arms and began leading him through the doors, she noticed how small he seemed in comparison, almost delicate and spindly. He seemed fragile and vulnerable, but she knew that was an illusion. He used his childlike, naïve appearance to his advantage, luring enemies until they were close enough for him to strike with deadly precision. She had no doubt that he was never subjected to the inmate violence that was pervasive throughout the prison system, using his perceived weakness and frailty as a weapon, his attackers learning too late that he was not what he appeared. During her entry at the security checkpoint when she gave them the name of the prisoner she came to see, she noticed a look of dread on the guard’s face and he told her that Brandon had nearly broke another prisoner’s neck, snapping it cleanly with clinical accuracy and lethal force, well trained and highly prepared to defend himself against any threat. He was easily adaptable to any situation, which was why his sentence was not as punitive as it might seem. In some ways, it was almost an injustice. He was enjoying his prison term, taking it with ease, laughing at those who had incarcerated him, showing them that it did not bother him or inconvenience him in the least. He gladly sacrificed himself for his cause, feeling honored instead of embarrassed that he was caught. The ultimate punishment would be his death, and Nikki briefly found herself wishing he was dead. She quickly rid herself of those vengeful thoughts, however, knowing they were fruitless and did little to advance her situation or help her determine what would happen to the prime minister or what had happened to MacGyver. For now, all she wanted was to be free from Brandon’s loathsome presence, the high, barbed wire walls, and the musty, rank stench of stale urine and sweat that filled the halls of the prison
“It was a lovely pleasure to see you as always, Mrs. Carpenter,” Brandon said, sneering at her. “I hope you’ll visit again.”
“I wouldn’t count on it,” she said.
***
After her visit with Brandon at the prison, Nikki met Pete at the spacious, opulent lobby of the hotel where Prime Minister Nucci would be staying as well as delivering his address to reporters, remarking on his time in California. The lobby was swarming with activity, Phoenix security specialists conducting searches and sweeps of the building, preparing for the eventual arrival of their distinguished client, the man they were sworn to protect. They stood on the stage constructed especially for his visit behind the podium where the microphone and other sound equipment had been set up, almost finished. Large Italian flags were placed on either side of the stage, thick velvet curtains providing a backdrop and dressing the stage to make it look formal enough for a state visit. From their vantage point on the stage, the lobby seemed enormous. Nikki felt nervous and overwhelmed, unsure how they would ever be able to protect the prime minister in such a wide open, public space. Of course the area would be cordoned off during his address, closed down and limited to public access, but still she felt uncomfortable. Her head ached and throbbed with exhaustion and stress.
“How was your visit with Brandon?” Pete asked, looking around the lobby, watching the security team at work.
Nikki sighed. “He would neither confirm nor deny that his organization is involved in this somehow,” she said. “He was as uncooperative, obstinate, and arrogant as usual.”
“I told you.”
“Yes, but he also did say that his organization had not ruled out plotting something against us in the future, so there is a possibility that they are behind this. The problem is, how do we find them? I don’t mind telling you that I feel rather uneasy. You’ve placed a tremendous responsibility on my shoulders, and I just don’t know if the prime minister will be safe when he arrives.”
Pete looked at her. “Look, I’m here unofficially to supervise, but you don’t need any supervision. I trust you, Nikki,” he said. “Besides MacGyver, you’re one of the best agents I’ve got. You may not feel ready for this challenge, but I believe you are. You’ve done everything you’re supposed to in order to ensure a smooth, uneventful, and secure visit by the prime minister. The area is sealed, preventing any unauthorized entry. All staff has been screened with psychological as well as criminal backgrounds. Metal detectors placed at each entrance will locate any concealed weapons. Members of the press attending have been approved by us. A sophisticated surveillance network is in place as well as security personnel monitoring the situation from all possible angles. The entire building has been sweeped for potential threats. Sound equipment has been checked for any evidence of tampering or sabotage. Even the menu for the banquet has been checked for toxins and pathogens. Nikki, I’d say you’ve done quite a thorough and impressive job, and the prime minister’s arrival is still a few days away. You ought to feel confident that any risks to his life are now greatly minimized due to your meticulous efforts.”
“I still have to remain vigilant, though,” Nikki said. “I can’t afford to congratulate myself yet. After everything I’ve done, there could still be a breach.”
“Even if the worst case scenario were to happen, no one would blame you for lax security. I will see to it that your actions and diligence are commended.”
“I just hope it doesn’t come to that, that the worst doesn’t happen.”
“So do I.”
“How was MacGyver today? Did you get to see him?” Nikki asked, trying to change the subject and repress her anxiety over the logistics required to protect a single, important man.
“I did, briefly,” Pete said. “Unfortunately, I’ve been as busy as you are, so I didn’t get to stay long. Still, I made it a point to see him, to let him know that I still care about him, even though I’m sure he knows that. He’s still the same as before, I’m afraid, still unable to speak without the words tumbling from him in a disordered, meaningless jumble.” He stared blankly at the floor of the stage, his face pinched and gray with sadness.
“Has he been able to tell you anything else in sign language about what might happen to the prime minister?”
“No. Either he doesn’t know or can’t remember anything else. We still have a few days, though. Anything could happen. He could start to remember more, maybe even speak normally again, but I doubt it.”
Nikki nodded, doubting it as well.
“Listen, it’s getting late. Your security team has been here for fourteen hours going over everything. Why don’t you go home and get some rest so you can approach this from a fresh perspective again tomorrow? Fatigue will only cause you to lose your clarity of thought and may cause you to make errors. As you said, you need to remain vigilant, take MacGyver’s warning seriously, no matter how vague it is. The only way you can do that is with a rested, clear mind,” Pete said.
Nikki rubbed her aching forehead, her eyes feeling tight and raw. “You’re probably right,” she said. “It’s just…why do I feel I’m missing something?”
“You’re doing all you can, I assure you,” Pete said. “You’re following procedure, not excluding anything. It’s going to be fine. You still have a few days to make sure everything is working properly and is secured. Now, go home and rest, all right? I’ll take you to your car.”
Nikki smiled wearily. “Thanks, Pete,” she said.
They left the stage, Nikki’s legs feeling so weak beneath her that it almost felt as if Pete were carrying her. Buried deep inside the microphone Prime Minister Nucci would use, undetected by even the most professional and advanced security examination, a tiny red light blinked, waiting.
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
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