Okay, so I have no life, just a looot of time on my hands.
Seriously though, when I have this much free time to write, I take advantage of it, and you dear readers reap the benefits. Enjoy!
Speechless Part Seven
Rated: PG
Once MacGyver finished delivering his Morse code message and Nikki had finished transcribing it, she began to decode it, using a separate sheet of paper to write the letters that corresponded to the dots and dashes. MacGyver watched her work, smiling, relieved that he might have somehow at last made a breakthrough and that the prime minister’s life would be spared. He also thought fondly of their kiss, wondering what she had said to him during it. Had she been protesting, or did she find it pleasurable? A part of him wondered if he should have done it, but he had been scared and lost, never feeling more lonely or isolated in his life, imprisoned by a lack of language or comprehension. That passionate expression of affection had been his last desperate attempt to cling to something he understood. It did seem they were better in times of misery and distress at expressing their feelings toward one another than in times of peace and ease, perhaps because they felt there was more at stake, that it took a calamity for them to realize that love was precious. Still, he hoped he hadn’t come on too strongly. He admired her as she worked, her brunette head bent studiously over her translation. He wished he could say something to her, but he also knew that sometimes it was better to appreciate things quietly, that some things were spoiled by words. She appeared to be too focused on her task to notice that he was watching her, and that was fine by him. He wanted to watch her as she behaved naturally at her work because he thought she looked the most attractive when she was that way, unaware of his attention.
Pete entered, looking harried and flustered. Both Nikki and MacGyver turned at the sound of his heavy footsteps.
“How was the call?” Nikki asked without looking up, still concentrating on her work.
“Oh, just wonderful,” Pete said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Those boys read me the riot act, as usual, voicing their concerns over every issue you can imagine. They asked me about fifty times apiece if we were ready for tomorrow’s event.” He saw Nikki working from her notepad. “By the way, are we? What’s this you’re doing?” He asked.
Nikki looked up at MacGyver and smiled. “We may finally have the answers we need about what will happen to Nucci if we don’t take the necessary precautions,” she said. “MacGyver gave me a message in Morse code.”
“Really? Well, that’s fantastic!” Pete said. “So, he may still be able to communicate with us on some level, after all!”
“I hope so,” Nikki said. “We’ll find out when I finish working on the translation.”
“MacGyver, you’re incredible. You never give up. I knew we’d find another way!” Pete said, firmly squeezing MacGyver’s shoulder.
MacGyver smiled at him, but his eyes had the empty, blank look of someone who did not understand what he’d just said. He turned and watched Nikki and Pete together, hoping they would be able to make sense of his message. All he could do was watch, studying their body language and facial expressions to see if they were either pleased or discouraged.
Please…make sense to them…please… “All right, I’m finished,” Nikki said, sighing. She looked at Pete. “Let’s read it together, see what it says.”
The message contained every detail MacGyver remembered from his dream—the two men on the slopes, the device that was implanted in the microphone and how it was voice activated to detonate when Nucci spoke, and the powder that made him lose consciousness and supposedly his ability to communicate this information to anyone that could take actions to prevent it.
“So you were right,” Pete said to Nikki. “Someone took extreme measures to ensure that he wouldn’t tell anyone what he saw.”
“Yes, and it definitely does sound like the work of that secret organization that Brandon belonged to,” Nikki said.
“Well, thankfully the message made sense and we can now do something to stop it from happening,” Pete said. “You’ll have to inform your security team immediately of the situation and have them remove that microphone and replace it with another one.”
Nikki shook her head. “No Pete, I don’t think that’s going to do it,” she said.
“What do you suggest?”
“They could be watching. If we remove that microphone and replace it, they might know about it and just plant another explosive device. It’s too obvious. What we need to do is keep that microphone in place and act as if the press conference and banquet are going to proceed as scheduled.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Pete asked.
“Just listen to me,” Nikki said. “We’ll have a dummy press corps in place while the real one will meet with Nucci at an undisclosed location. Everything will look as if it’s going as planned, as if we’re ignorant of the assassination plot. We’ll make them believe they’ve succeeded, and just at the last moment we’ll announce to the media that his press conference will actually be held elsewhere, giving this group no time to change their plans and leaving them embarrassed by their failure, not us.”
“Nikki, that’s brilliant!” Pete said. “That’s absolutely brilliant! I knew I had the right person when it came to security detail on this assignment. Excellent job! It just might work! What about the microphone, though?”
“According to MacGyver’s message, it’s only harmful if Nucci speaks into it, no one else. We can take it to the lab and study it. Who knows? We might learn something of their advanced technology, gain an advantage over them the next time they try to use something against us. When they’re done studying it, they can destroy it so it doesn’t fall back into the enemy’s hands somehow.”
Pete smiled. “You are quite the strategist,” he said. “I’m impressed—and relieved. The prime minister might actually have a chance now.”
“Yeah, but what about MacGyver?” Nikki asked. “I can’t help but wonder if he won’t be able to recover this time. This drug seems so much more potent, so much more destructive to him…”
Pete reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I know,” he said. “I was thinking the same thing. But remember how his condition seemed irrecoverable at the psychiatric hospital, and he overcame it, battled for his sanity and won. We have to believe he can survive this as well. Let’s just assume the drug is temporary for a moment. They used it so he couldn’t tell anyone about the assassination until it was over. Only then he could speak again.”
Nikki shrugged. “It would fit with their idea of embarrassing us. Imagine, one of our top men warning us something would happen when it was too late? It would make us seem wholly incompetent.”
“Yes. They want to ruin us, and part of doing that is ruining MacGyver’s credibility,” Pete said. “They want him eliminated—not by killing him—but by eroding our confidence in him, and his confidence in himself.”
“Well, they don’t know us as well as they think they do, now do they?” Nikki said, smiling slyly. “We don’t abandon our people outright. We look for reasons, explanations, and causes. Plus, we care for them.”
They looked at MacGyver, who was watching them carefully, frowning, struggling to understand them, to see if his message had proved successful. Nikki smiled at him and Pete gave him the thumbs up signal, showing him that they understood his code just fine. Relieved, MacGyver smiled back.
It can be stopped now, he thought.
Thank God, it can be stopped. It’s not too late. I’m not too late. “I’d better get to work assembling the dummy press corps,” Nikki said, standing. “Now that we know what will happen if we don’t act decisively, we can’t afford to wait.”
“Do you think this is really what MacGyver saw? What if this is only a dream?” Pete asked. “I mean, surely, we have to consider it.”
“I don’t think so. Remember, he’s been too emphatic that something would happen, and his inability to communicate? No, something will happen, unless we do something about it now.”
“You’re right,” Pete said, also standing. “I guess I just don’t want it to be real.”
“Well, it is real, and we can’t pretend it isn’t happening, especially not for MacGyver’s sake.” She turned to MacGyver, smiling again, letting him know she now understood his message completely, that things would be taken care of, that the prime minister would now be safe. She embraced him and kissed him on the cheek, wishing she could whisper again to him how much she loved him and make him understand it.
Pete embraced him next. “Goodbye, Mac,” he said. “We’re going to make sure the prime minister is secured, thanks to your warning. You may not understand me now, but we are going to act on your message. You can depend on it. His life is safe now, thanks to you.”
All he received in reply was the sound of MacGyver’s breathing, quiet and eerie, no vocalizations of any kind escaping his lips. It was unbearable to him that his friend had been reduced to this, but he had to remind himself to act on his own advice—hope for the best, that it was only temporary. That was all they could do until they found some cure for it otherwise. For now, they had to help the prime minister first. When it was over, he vowed they would do all they could to restore his ability to speak and understand them again. MacGyver smiled at them, encouraging them, glad that they were at last able to do something proactive to stop the assassination, that his warning was able to get through, after all. He watched as they left, knowing the reasons behind it, knowing they would be back to see him once the ordeal was over. Although he still could not speak or understand them, he was relieved at least to know that he was able to clearly communicate the one message they needed to know the most at that moment.
***
Prime Minister Nucci was seated comfortably in his lavishly appointed hotel suite beside the marble fireplace, the press gathered around him. Nikki and Pete watched anxiously as the news coverage shifted from the sweeping, expansive lobby to the suite.
“In an unexpected move, the prime minister has decided to hold his press conference in his hotel room rather than the lobby,” the reporter said.
“I actually prefer this setting,” Pete whispered to Nikki. “It’s a much more comfortable venue for him, more intimate, not quite so austere. He’s a warm, charming, friendly man. This suits him much better.”
“Yes, well I only hope we have succeeded in surprising our unseen enemies,” she said.
They listened as the prime minister answered questions and joked with the press. The atmosphere felt relaxed, the looming threat of his pending death absent. Gradually, Pete and Nikki began to relax as well, no longer tense and holding their breath. Everything was running smoothly as planned. A smile crept across Nikki’s lips.
“Why are you smiling?” Pete asked her.
“I think we may have actually done it,” she said. “I’m just imagining their dumbfounded expressions right now. They probably never expected that we could be this clever. They’ve truly underestimated us.”
“Yes, well why don’t we wait until the press conference is over before we gloat? Remember, these guys are capable of anything.”
They waited, watched, and listened. Soon, the press conference was over, the room cleared. Nothing had happened. The prime minister would be leaving that afternoon, safe. Nikki and Pete were about to leave as well when Nucci stopped them.
“Are you the American organization in charge of my security today?” He asked in thickly accented English.
“Why yes, Mr. Nucci, we are,” Pete said. “I’m Peter Thornton of The Phoenix Foundation, and this is Nikki Carpenter.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Nikki said, shaking his hand.
“No, signorina, it is my pleasure,” Nucci said, smiling warmly. “I must say you have done an outstanding job. Choosing to have my press conference here instead of in that lobby was a wonderful idea. I’ve never felt comfortable giving speeches. Here, I could talk to the press as if they are regular people. Whether they are or not is up for debate, eh?” He chuckled, patting Pete on the back.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Nucci,” Pete said. He looked at Nikki, both of them wondering whether they should tell him the real reason for the change.
“We’re so glad you enjoyed your time here and hope you enjoy the rest of your tour of America,” Nikki said, deciding against telling him.
“I believe I shall. America is a wonderful place. The people are so friendly, so welcoming and accommodating. I believe I will be returning quite frequently.”
“We would like that,” Pete said.
“You can be assured that I will be using your security when I do return,” Nucci said.
“Thank you, Mr. Nucci, that means a lot to us,” Nikki said.
“You were so thorough and professional. I cannot thank you enough. I cannot imagine the pressure you have been through, all just to protect me?”
“Well, it hasn’t been easy, that’s for sure,” Pete said.
Nucci placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder. “You must go home and rest now, and do not concern yourselves anymore with me,” he said, grinning. “I still have a long journey ahead of me, and I am looking forward to it. Although, I must confess I am not looking forward to my speech at the United Nations. That is one thing I will have to miss during my next time here.” He laughed and smiled again. “Next time will have to be strictly for leisure, for holiday. Now, I recommend you two take a holiday of your own, especially after all you have done for me. I am grateful for all your hard work and all that you have done to make me feel safe.”
A holiday. If only they could. MacGyver’s condition was still a grave concern. The question still remained whether he would recover or not. Nucci’s press conference was over, and he was unharmed. Would MacGyver slowly begin to speak again? They couldn’t know for certain.
“Now, if you fine people will excuse me, I have to pack for my trip,” Nucci said. “Once again, it was a pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well, Mr. Nucci,” Pete said. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again.”
Nucci nodded and smiled. Pete and Nikki waved at him and then left his room.
“You know, rarely do you get to meet the person you are going to protect, but I’m glad we did,” Pete said, walking with Nikki down the hallway. “After seeing that man’s energy and compassion—well, you see why his life is worth protecting, why it’s valuable. And it all worked out better for him, anyway. Who knew he had stage fright, a polished politician such as him?” He looked at her, noticing how drained she looked. “How are you holding up, now that it’s over?”
“I feel like I’m about to faint,” she said, “but I’ve also never felt better in my life. Thank you for having faith in me, Pete.”
“You did an excellent job.”
“Well, none of this would have gone as well as it did were it not for MacGyver,” she said. “I wonder how he’s doing.”
“We should probably get to the hospital as soon as possible and see,” Pete said. “He’s going to be relieved as we are that Nucci is all right. I just don’t know how to tell him if he can’t understand us.”
“Maybe he will, eventually, now that this is over.”
“Maybe.”
***
The ringing returned to MacGyver’s ears, followed by a rush of air, his eardrums popping as if he were in an aircraft cabin that was pressurizing at high altitude. After that sound came nothing, just silence. He found that he could hear nothing at all, not even the slightest noise. A hearing person always heard something, even in a quiet room—the hum of a refrigerator, the shuffle of feet, a voice in the distance. MacGyver heard absolutely nothing. It terrified him as he realized he had somehow now gone deaf. He had little time to adjust or react when his vision began to fail as well, darkness closing around his eyes. He panicked, realizing he was trapped. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t understand anyone, couldn’t hear or see. Gradually, even his thoughts began to leave him, becoming a jumble until he could no longer speak even to himself. His senses suffered a catastrophic failure like a power grid, shutting down one circuit at a time. Stumbling briefly, groping in the darkness, his mind confused and disorganized, wandering aimlessly, not knowing or understanding what he was doing, his body at last failed him as well, and he collapsed into unconsciousness.
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
Oh, my! Out of the fire and into the frying pan (did I wrote that inversed? We need a grammar teacher in this forum!!!). And I wonder if Nucci is really safe... I can't shake the feeling that the evil guys are just waiting for us let our guard down!
