Here's the final installment of my latest MacGyver/Murdoc fic. Enjoy!

Unrecognized Screams Part Five

Rated: PG

Pete walked into Sheriff Duane Colvert’s office, looking around. During his drive up to the small mountain town, he passed the park where MacGyver was found. He was tempted to stop and search the open field for any evidence that might point to who could have tried to murder MacGyver, but he had found nothing and decided the best place to start was the Sheriff’s office.

“Can I help you?” Duane asked, returning to his desk.

Pete produced a copy of the small article that mentioned finding the unidentified man in the field and placed it on the desk, pointing at it. “I think I know the man in this article,” he said.

Duane scanned the article quickly. “Yes, he was found in the field a few nights ago, an apparent suicide attempt.”

“How is he? Where is he? Please, he’s my friend, and I know he wouldn’t do this to himself. Someone else had to be involved here.”

Duane noted the sense of urgency in Pete’s voice. “I realize you’re concerned, Mr. uh…”

“Thornton.”

“Well, Mr. Thornton, are you sure you know this man?”

“The article describes him perfectly,” Pete said. He looked out the window of the sheriff’s office and saw MacGyver’s jeep. “That’s his jeep, right out there!” He turned back to Duane. “Listen, he might be in trouble. I need to find him so I can help him. Do you know where he is?”

Duane smiled slightly. “This guy sure is popular, all of the sudden,” he said. “I guess the power of the press works.”

“What do you mean?” Pete asked.

“There was another guy in here earlier, asking me where I could find him. He also claimed to be this man’s friend.”

An icy, unsettling feeling crept up Pete’s spine. “What did this man look like?” He asked.

“Oh, you know, about medium height, slender…he had a British accent. He seemed very sophisticated. He had dark brown hair and brown eyes.”

Pete closed his eyes when the realization hit him that the worst was about to happen if he didn’t find MacGyver soon. The sheriff had just described Murdoc. There could be no doubt in Pete’s mind.

“Where is he staying?” He asked.

“With Cathy Darlington. She lives near the park, just up the road. Why?”

“We need to get over there immediately,” Pete said.

***

MacGyver was upstairs when Murdoc knocked on Cathy’s door. Still, he could hear the man’s accent when he spoke to Cathy, and a part of him wondered where he had heard that voice before. It seemed strangely familiar, yet he couldn’t place it. He listened carefully to their conversation.

“May I help you?” Cathy asked.

Murdoc did his best to smile pleasantly, hiding his usual arrogant smirk. “I’m looking for a dear friend of mine, and the sheriff told me he might be staying here,” he said.

“You mean…the man that was found?” She asked.

“Yes. You see, he’s a dear friend of mine. We go way back.”

Murdoc was pleased with himself for describing MacGyver as an old friend. In an odd, ironic way, he supposed it was true.

“I see,” Cathy said, watching Murdoc carefully. He seemed genuinely concerned. “Won’t you come in?”

“I’d be delighted,” Murdoc said, maintaining his polite façade. He entered and Cathy closed the door behind him.

“He’s uh…he’s upstairs at the moment,” she said. “He’s been through quite an ordeal, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, I read about it in the local paper, unfortunately,” Murdoc said, sighing and shaking his head. He crossed his arms and stared at the floor. “It’s a terrible shame that he would do something like that to himself.”

“Do you know why?” Cathy asked.

She thought about the man upstairs with the white bandages around his wrists that covered up some angry, deep, brutal cuts that were stitched tightly but did little to reduce their gruesome appearance. She thought about the scratches on his back, and suddenly they seemed insignificant compared to those slices in his wrists. Maybe he had tried to commit suicide, after all. She didn’t know why, but this man claiming to be his friend made it sound very convincing.

Murdoc looked up at her, sadness in his eyes. “He suffers from depression,” he said. “Sometimes, the depressive episodes are so deep that he becomes suicidal. I’ve already saved him from killing himself several times. I’m only glad you were there to stop him this time. He refuses to get help, no matter how many times I’ve pleaded with him. It’s rather sad, actually. I just don’t know what to do for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Cathy said.

“Yes, well,” Murdoc said, looking upstairs, “the best thing for him now is to come home with me. Maybe I can help him sort things out.”

“He doesn’t remember who he is,” Cathy said.

Murdoc secretly dug his fingernails into his fists, clenching them tightly beneath his folded arms. “I know, I read that in the paper, too,” he said. “It’s such a shame. Don’t worry though, Cathy. I can help him remember who he is.”

MacGyver quietly moved toward the landing of the stairs where he could clearly see who this man was claiming to be his old friend. When he saw him, flashes of memory returned to him. Images from his dreams appeared before him. This man looked like the one in his dream, laughing at him as he cut into his wrists. He didn’t trust him, and he wasn’t going to go anywhere with him. He headed back up the stairs before either of them could see him.

“Come with me,” Cathy said. “I’ll take you to him. Who knows? Once he sees you, it might trigger something.”

“That’s what I hope happens,” Murdoc said, a more unpleasant version of his smile emerging when Cathy wasn’t looking.

They reached the top of the stairs only to find nothing. They searched every room. He was gone. Cathy noticed one of the windows in the bathroom was cracked open.

“He must’ve left through the window,” she said. “Why would he do that?”

Controlling his anger over MacGyver escaping his clutches yet again, Murdoc climbed on top of the bathtub so he could see out the cracked open window. He looked down the side of the house and found nothing. MacGyver had probably climbed down the side of the house already.

“He doesn’t remember who he is,” Murdoc said. “He must’ve heard my voice and got confused or frightened. Don’t worry, I’ll find him.”

Cathy followed Murdoc as he headed back down the stairs toward the front door, his walk determined. “Where do you think he went?” She asked.

“Probably back to the field,” Murdoc said. “I’m afraid he might try to take his own life again. Perhaps his amnesia on top of everything else is just too much for him to bear. Either way, I’ve got to find him before he harms himself again.”

“Be careful,” Cathy said.

Murdoc ran out into the field, searching for MacGyver. At first, he found nothing. Soon, as he got farther and farther away from Cathy’s house and deeper into the seclusion of the park, he saw MacGyver, walking rapidly in the distance. He stopped running and decided to handle this the way any predator would handle its prey—with caution and patience. He had missed killing MacGyver so many times, and he wasn’t about to relive the experience. He began to run again, keeping his steps light so MacGyver wouldn’t hear him coming. As he got closer and closer, he waited for his opportunity and then took it, pouncing, knocking MacGyver to the ground. MacGyver stared up at him in surprise.

“Who are you?” He asked. “You look familiar. What do you want with me?”

“So many questions,” Murdoc said, pulling out his gun and pointing it at MacGyver, “so little time.”

MacGyver froze and stared at the gun. “You told Cathy you were my friend,” he said.

“Yes well, in an odd sense of the word I suppose I am,” he said, laughing.

“You don’t seem like much of a friend to me,” MacGyver said, “threatening me with a gun.”

“Come now, MacGyver, don’t you recognize me at all yet?”

“MacGyver…that’s my name?”

“Well I should hope so,” Murdoc said. “Otherwise, I’ve been chasing the wrong target all of these years.”

“Please, before you kill me, just tell me why.”

“Why what, MacGyver?”

“Why you’re doing this,” MacGyver said. Once again, he remembered the man’s sinister face in his dream. He looked down at his bandages. “You did this to me, didn’t you? You cut my wrists open.” Slowly, it all began to make sense. “I was…hiking. Your men grabbed me, held me down while you…” his dark eyes looked up at Murdoc, recognition returning to them. “Murdoc,” he said.

Murdoc laughed. “I’m pleased to see you finally remember my talents well enough to remember who I am MacGyver,” he said. “Now that you remember, I can finally kill you. You see, I wanted you to know who I was. I’m not a famed hitman for no reason, after all.”

“What are you going to try this time, Murdoc? What elaborate plan do you have for my death this time? Obviously, slitting my wrists didn’t work,” MacGyver said, purposely taunting him.

“No, it didn’t,” Murdoc said. “And, I had too many men in my way last time. This time, it’s just you, me, and the woods. Oh, and the simplicity of a bullet to the head.”

Murdoc pointed his gun at MacGyver’s head and prepared to fire.

“Murdoc! Hold it right there!” Pete shouted.

Murdoc turned and fired on Pete and Duane. They rolled out of the way, and Duane took immediate action, opening fire in return, hitting Murdoc several times. Murdoc cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground, breathing heavily. Stunned, MacGyver got up and carefully approached the wounded Murdoc, kicking his gun away from him.

“Mac, thank God!” Pete shouted, running over to him.

Duane ran over to Murdoc and quickly cuffed him.

“Damn it, Mac, you scared me!” Pete said, embracing his friend tightly. He pulled away, noticing the confused look on his friend’s face. “MacGyver, don’t you remember me? Do you know who you are?”

“Pete,” MacGyver said, returning the embrace.

“What a relief,” Pete said. He pulled away and gently held his friend’s shoulders. “The next time you decide to go hiking for a weekend, tell me where you’re going, okay?”

MacGyver smiled weakly. “Yes, mother,” he said.

“This is Sheriff Colvert, requesting backup at Travers Park,” Duane said into his radio. “I have a suspect down, I repeat, a suspect down.” He looked down at Murdoc, who groaned in pain.

Pete saw the thick white bandages around MacGyver’s wrists. He couldn’t imagine what that must have been like for him to go through that, being forced down while someone tried to cut his life away. “Are you going to be all right, MacGyver?” He asked.

MacGyver looked down at the bandages. “I think so,” he said. “Now that I remember who I am. The cuts were pretty deep, but the doctor doesn’t think there will be any permanent damage. I might get some pretty ugly scars, but that’s about it.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re all right,” Pete said.

“I think he’s dead,” Duane said, looking up from where he crouched beside the prone body of Murdoc.

MacGyver and Pete exchanged glances. They had heard that too many times before with Murdoc. Carefully, they joined Duane on the ground, examining him. MacGyver felt for a pulse.

“I don’t feel anything,” he said, looking at Pete.

“He’s not breathing, either,” Pete said.

“I’ll radio in for the coroner to come, too,” Duane said.

The field and the surrounding forest suddenly grew deathly quiet as Pete and MacGyver finally witnessed the impossible. Murdoc was dead.

***

“I hope you’ll come back some time,” Cathy said, hugging MacGyver. “Now that you know who you are.”

“I will,” MacGyver said.

“I just can’t believe I let that man into my house,” Cathy said. “If I had known he was going to try to kill you…that he had already tried…” her eyes drifted down to his wrists, which were still bandaged.

MacGyver gently caught her hands in his. “Hey,” he said, “you didn’t know. But it’s all right. It’s over now.”

Alex trotted over to MacGyver, pressing his nose affectionately against him. MacGyver felt the nudge and smiled, petting him.

“Well, it looks like you have no choice but to come back now,” Cathy said, grinning. “I might need you to dog sit sometime.”

“Yes ma’am,” MacGyver said.

Cathy loved his warm, charming demeanor. Even when he couldn’t remember who he was and was struggling with the physical and emotional pain he had to endure from having his wrists cut open, she could sense that it was there, hidden beneath the surface. She had caught glimpses of it. She knew he wasn’t crazy, even though he had tried so hard to convince her that he was.

“MacGyver, are you ready to go?” Pete asked, approaching them.

“Yes, Pete.”

“So, are you sure MacGyver’s safe now?” Cathy asked Pete. “I know this Murdoc is dead, but what about the other men who did this to him? They’re still out there.”

“They were working for Murdoc,” Pete said. “I don’t think they’d risk getting caught. They’ve probably vanished somewhere.”

“Still, it’s not a comforting thought.”

“No, it isn’t,” Pete said, looking with concern at his friend. He knew MacGyver had a lot of enemies, and it was part of his job, but he never liked the idea of adding more possible future enemies to that list.

“I’ll be fine,” MacGyver said, looking at both of them. “Look, the important thing is that Murdoc is dead. He’s the one who wanted to kill me.”

Sheriff Colvert’s car pulled into Cathy’s driveway, and they all turned to look. He stepped out, a grave, baffled expression on his face.

“I wonder what’s wrong,” Cathy said.

Pete and MacGyver looked at each other, dreading what the sheriff had to say. They knew what he would say before he even started talking.

“I just got off the phone with the coroner’s office,” he said. “This…Murdoc character is missing.”

“Missing? But I thought he was dead!” Cathy said.

Pete and MacGyver remained absolutely still, looking into each other’s eyes.

“So did I, Cathy,” Duane said.

“Well, what happened? Don’t tell me they misplaced his body somewhere.”

Duane removed his hat and scratched his head. “To tell you the truth, I don’t really know what happened. The coroner tells me the wagon showed up empty.”

“Empty?” Cathy looked at MacGyver and Pete, alarmed. “How could that be? Did he escape somehow?”

“I highly doubt it,” Duane said. “He was gravely injured. There’s no way he could have suddenly come back to life and escaped.”

“Unless he was somehow faking his death,” Cathy said.

Duane chuckled. “No offense, Cathy, but that’s ridiculous.”

MacGyver and Pete shook their heads.

“No Sheriff, it’s not ridiculous at all,” Pete said.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Duane said. “It’s nonsense! A dead man vanishes like that? Come on. Who do you think we’re dealing with, here?”

“Murdoc,” MacGyver said.

The End

Nice! Good ending... Mudoc die? Never!

Terrific story. I liked it!

Deffinately a great ending ....hmmm i wonder how he got away, faking not breathing is one thing(I actually breat very shallowly all the time, so if you were to just check to see if my chest was movie to see if I was breathing, you would probably think i wasn't at first glance...and I don't even do that on purpose), but no pulse, that's pretty impressive. He must have had something to do that with....hmmmm. Great job overall

Awesome!!!!!!! You write often right? Please!

Great ending to a great story.

Wonderful story and a great ending.

The End [/QUOTE]
What I can't figure out is; when they couldn't find who owned the jeep because the plates had been removed, why didn't they run the VIN number? It's stamped into a strip metal way in the very front of the dash board on the driver's side of the vehicle. It's also on several other places, including stamped into the frame and engine. Each vehicle's number is unique, and law enforcement would have access to the information to get the registration. Also, with being in the military in Nam and later working for the government with the DXS, Mac's fingerprints would be on file. I know; it makes a more interesting story if we ignore these facts, but it still jumped out at me glaringly.