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Round Robin, Started by Vina Mar 22 2005 |
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| MacNymph |
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Phoenix Special Agent
Posts: 3,348
Joined: 4 Jul 2005
Gender: Female
Country: USA
SAK owned: Climber
Favorites
Season: season 3
Episode:Rock The Cradle (today)
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Black/Navy flight
House: House boat
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| QUOTE (Vina @ Mar 22 2005, 04:21 PM) |
"No More Mr. Nice Guy"
A Round-Robin MacGyver Story
Chapter One by Vina
(For MacGyverGod—It’s seventh season, he’s got long blond hair, and he lives in the Venice loft.)
It started out as a typical Monday morning on the way to work. Mac stopped at a gas station to fill up his Jeep, before heading into the Phoenix Foundation to see what new assignment Pete had for him. He pushed the nozzle into the tank and looked up absently at the clouds in the bright blue sky, his blond hair blowing in the soft breeze. It looked like it was going to be a nice, pleasant day and he hoped the assignment wasn’t a tough one. He could use a couple of easy ones now and then.
Suddenly he heard a sort of low-pitched scream from the other side of the gas pump and as he peered around the pump, he saw a little old lady, at least eighty years old, who had lost control of her gas nozzle and was spewing gas everywhere.
“Whoa!” he shouted in surprise, realizing how dangerous the situation could become very quickly. He shut off his own nozzle and dashed around the pump. “Hold on, ma’am,” he called as he came up behind her. “Let me help you!”
She was apparently hard of hearing. When Mac reached around from behind her to get hold of the nozzle, the little lady screamed again and began to yell for help, thinking someone was attacking her.
“Wait! Ma’am, I’m just trying to help—“ Mac tried to explain, when she turned and doused him with gasoline. The foul-smelling liquid drenched his shirt and jeans and stung his skin, stopping him dead in his tracks.
The station attendant came running toward them by this time to see Mac holding out his dripping hands and looking down at his clothing in horror, as the little old lady stood pointing the nozzle at him. She had finally let go of the handle so it was no longer gushing gasoline, but she was scolding Mac loudly in her hoarse little voice.
“That vicious beast! That horrible man!” she cried. “He attacked me! He tried to rob me! I just know he wanted to rob me!” she continued as the attendant took the nozzle from her and tried to calm her.
“OK, ma’am…OK. It’s all over now.”
“I was only trying to help her,” Mac said to the attendant. “She was spraying gas everywhere…I swear I was trying to help her.”
“Yeah, yeah, buddy. Tell it to the cops,” the attendant said unsympathetically. “Hey Jerry!” he shouted to a service technician. “Call the cops! We got a situation here.”
Mac stood in the same spot, with his mouth open and his clothes still dripping.
“You should be ashamed of yourself!” the little lady shouted at Mac. “I’m eighty-three! But I fixed you, sonny!”
Mac’s face was a mixture of shock and innocence as the attendant sent the little old lady into the station with the technician, then motioned for Mac to go ahead of him toward the service bay.
“C’mon, buddy. You’ll wait in here till the cops get here.”
“Aw, c’mon,” Mac pleaded. “Do you really think I’d attack an old lady in broad daylight with people all around? Especially when she’s holding a gushing gas nozzle?”
“I don’t know,” said the attendant sarcastically. “The world’s full of weirdoes. I’ll let the cops sort it out. Now move!”
Mac reluctantly walked ahead of the attendant and went into the service bay. The first thing that caught his eye was a welding torch.
“Hey, look,” he said turning back to the attendant. “I’m soaked in gasoline. Can we stay away from the ignition sources, please.”
“Sure, sure. Sit down on that stool over there.” He indicated a corner opposite the welding table.
“Thanks,” Mac said. “You’re all heart. As a matter of fact, could I maybe use the men’s room to wash some of this off…or have you got a garden hose? I’m not only highly flammable, but gasoline doesn’t really do much for my sinuses either.”
At that moment, a police car pulled up outside with lights flashing.
“Just keep your shirt on, buddy, the cops are here,” the attendant said as he went into the lobby letting the door slam behind him.
Noting the irony of the attendant’s comment, Mac looked down at his shirt. He began to unbutton it, then slipped it off and held it away from him to try and get some of the unpleasant fumes away from his nose and throat. “Man, that was one of my favorite shirts, too,” he thought. He was still wearing a tank top, so he laid the shirt over a sawhorse that was nearby. Then he began to look around for a water source.
Peering around the corner of the service bay, he noticed a car wash right next to the building. He looked behind him to see the little old lady still ranting at the two police officers in the lobby, so he slipped out of the service bay and headed over to the car wash. In a little portico off the side of the drive-through area, Mac found a small brush that was connected to a hose for scrubbing delicate detailing on a vehicle. He squeezed the handle and found it not only squirted water, but soapy foam as well.
“Yes!” he cried happily and began to spray himself down and scrub off the gasoline. He’d got himself pretty well rid of the foul stuff, too, when both cops came around the side of the service bay toward him at a full gallop. He stood in disbelief as they each grabbed one of his arms and began roughly hauling him toward their cruiser shouting something about escaping custody and resisting arrest.
“I don’t believe this!” Mac protested. “I wasn’t resisting anything…except turning into a human torch! Look, my name’s MacGyver. I work for the Phoenix Foundation. If you’ll just let me call—“
“Got any proof of that?” asked one of the cops.
Mac thought a moment, then frowned. “Not on me. My wallet’s in my gasoline-soaked shirt pocket back in the service bay.”
He tried to point toward it with his right hand, but the officer holding onto his arm jerked it back roughly. “Attempting to assault a police officer, eh, buddy?” the other officer shouted.
“What?!!” Mac yelled.
“C,mon, you’re going downtown!” the officer said as they handcuffed Mac and shoved him into the cruiser.
“Oh, man…” Mac said weakly as he sat in the back seat, looking out the window just in time to see the little old lady cursing at him as the cruiser drove away.
At the police station, the overworked clerks not only managed to lose the keys to Mac’s handcuffs, but his paperwork as well. He sat in a jail cell on a cot with springs sticking out of the mattress and his hands cuffed behind him for two hours. Finally Mac managed to roll into a fetal position on the mattress and get his arms up over his legs so his hands were in front of him. He was in the process of picking the cuff lock with the tip of one of the springs. It was difficult to do and a strain in the position he was in, but he finally got the lock open, just as one of the guards came in with a key.
About ten minutes later, Mac got two cellmates. One who was quite drunk and the other who was quite nervous. The drunk passed out on the mattress next to Mac, while the nervous one paced the cell, yelling for his lawyer and kicking the cell door every few minutes. Mac tried his best to ignore them both, but the nervous guy finally focused his attention on Mac.
“Hey, what are you in for?” he asked Mac in an almost accusatory tone.
“Uh…helping a little old lady,” he said sheepishly.
“What? You did what to a little old lady?” the man said loudly. Then, he began to shout at a guard who was passing by. “Hey! Hey! Guard! Where’s my lawyer?”
“Just hold your horses, Charley. He’ll be here,” the guard said nonchalantly.
“You said that an hour ago!” the man shouted and kicked the cell door making it clang violently.
Mac winced at the jarring sound. Suddenly, the drunk lying beside him started to stir and appeared to be making choking noises. Mac pulled back from him, not sure what he was likely to do.
The nervous man started yelling, “He’s choking! He’s choking! Do something!” The man was screaming in Mac’s face now. “You can’t let him choke to death!”
“All right, all right! Settle down,” Mac told him as he attempted to roll the drunk over to see if he needed CPR. The movement startled the drunk who latched onto Mac’s tank top with a vice-like grip and would not let go. Mac did not like the drunk’s look of impending vomiting. He turned the drunk’s head away from himself and swung him toward the cell door just in time to drench the guard who was unlocking the door at that moment.
“MacGyver!” Pete’s voice came from behind the horrified guard. “What is going on?” he said in disbelief as he stepped in front of the guard to survey the pathetic scene in front of him. Mac stood there looking miserable with wet hair, gasoline-stained clothes, and a reeking drunk still clinging to his now-torn tank top.
“Hi, Pete. Can you get me out of here, please?” he said plaintively.
After Pete had taken Mac home and heard his horror story of the morning, he’d told him to take the day off. Mac had a hot shower, then curled up on the sofa to sulk.
“Feel better?” Pete asked.
Mac only grunted.
“Feeling sorry for yourself, more like,” said Pete. “Well, I guess you’ve got a right to. What a morning! And all over trying to help a little old lady and a choking drunk,” he chuckled.
Mac shot him an annoyed glance. “I’m telling you, Pete, I’m NEVER, EVER going to help anybody, EVER again!”
“Oh, c’mon, MacGyver,” Pete said. “You know you don’t mean that. That goes completely against your nature.”
Mac sat up suddenly. “I MEAN IT, Pete! I’m never going to help a stranger ever again. I don’t care what happens, I’m minding my own business!” He threw himself back down on the couch and turned to face the back of couch away from Pete.
“All right, Mac, we’ll see. I’m going to head back to the office. Relax the rest of the day. You’ll feel differently tomorrow,” Pete said as he went out the door.
“I WILL NOT!” Mac shouted after him.
_____________________________________
Will Mac ever help a stranger in need again? Can he resist the temptation to “get involved”—no matter what happens? Who’s ready to take on the challenge of writing the next chapter in the MacGyver Fan Fiction Round Robin?
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| QUOTE (Alex-Wylie @ Mar 22 2005, 11:08 PM) | Finally against all great odds, here comes chapter two. Sorry for the delay again.
I don't own any rights for MacGyver. This is just for big fun!
Warning: If there really should be anybody left, who didn't see the 7th season of MacGyver already; *looks especially at Amy * this chapter contains spoilers.
Round Robin "No More Mr. Nice Guy"!
Chapter Two: For A Handful Cookies
Mac really had enough this time. He threw his favorite western tape into the VCR and planted himself back on the couch. Comfortable covered with a blanked and an orange juice in one hand, he watched the cowboys riding over the prairie.
Slowly his eyes got heavy.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The sun was rising over the mountain and life started at the MacGyver farm. Mac poured some more milk in his oatmeal, while Li drunk his coffee. Later they both would meet with Pete at the ‘New Fire Eagle farm house’ to round up his herd and bring it home from the feedlot.
In the last nine years the both had become really good friends and helped each other wherever they could. When a Tornado destroyed Pete’s farmhouse three years ago, Mac just gave him the second one on his land. The former owner had a big family and the grandparents had lived in their own house, which was just 820 feet away from the one Mac inhabited now.
In the meantime, in ‘Serenity’ everybody was excited and up on his feet because the post-carriage was arriving with a special guest. Mr. Ripley stepped on the sandy street as all eyes laid on him. He was the truly rich businessman who had chosen Serenity for his first, great Ripley-Horse-Race. The prize money was endowed with $7000. Right after him a young man appeared in the carriage-door-frame and looked curiously around the market place.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Come on little one, your Mom is over there,” Mac said gently as he tried to lead the little calf in the right direction. Somehow he had got lost behind the herd but fortunately Pete and Mac had recognized that in time. Gladly the mother cow cried some “Mooos” when the little boy calf was running toward her. It had been a long day, but now, the whole herd was finally save in the enclosure.
After dinner, Li had already gone home again, they sat in front of the fireplace playing chess. Pete sipped from a glass of cognac in his hand thinking and Mac thumbed on the edge of his, filled with a well-known white liquid, when they suddenly heard an awkward noise.
Grapping his gun the man in his sixties was on his feet faster then some would have thought prepared to flounce out, as Mac already at the window lifting the curtain to observe the situation, stopped him.
“You know how I think about these things, Pete!”
“A man needs to defend his home.” Pete insisted and looked carefully outside. “Somebody tries to steal my herd!!!!! We have to do something.” He exclaimed and was at the door.
“We’ll do something but let’s take the backdoor.”
Outside three men were just about to let the herd out. One of them had gotten down from his horse. The two friends could see now as they came closer that the ‘men’ were still teenager and didn’t seem to have guns. At least not the one who was just about 15 feet away trying to open the door. He was maybe 14, 15 at the most.
Mac exchanged a few words with Pete then took his chance run forward to hold the door closed and blow his good old wood whistle at the same time. All three horses reared up on there back feet, whinnying. One boy lost control over his horse and landed right on his butt, much to the joy of Pete who was already waiting to grab him. The other one galloped away as did the lonesome horse of the boy, who looked now into Mac’s eyes after he was grabbed by the shoulders and turned around. First scared his glance became then surprised and wondering.
Right at that moment out of the blue with an unbelievable big loud bang MacGyver’s seed barn blew up. They were all puzzled for a second. Then Pete and Mac ran to the barn trying to save what was left or at least the second barn with the horses before they got caught up in the enormous fire too.
“Come on let’s get outta here!“ yelled the boy Pete had caught before.
“No I’ll stay and help them!”
“Are you crazy! Our job is done. We just should distract them until the barn blows up. They’ll turn you in, Sean!”
“Just tell Mr. Ripley I got caught!”
With that the boy took his jacket off and ran to the drinking trough next to the barns, like his own life would depend on it.
In the meantime Mac panted for air in the middle of the horse barn. He was leading the animals out, blazing flames almost everywhere around him. Although Pete and Li, who had come to aid as well, tried their best to extinguish the flames, all the hay and straw had caught fire far to fast.
With the last horse on his side he nearly reached the door when suddenly the whole middle part of the roof came down. As if that wasn’t enough Mac got kicked by the freaked out horse so hard that he fell between two roof beams one penning his right leg.
Mac could feel the unbelievable heat everywhere now. There was no way to get out. Nearly unable to breath, he fought to keep his consciousness. He could hear Pete calling his name far, far away. Unable to answer he only could hear helpless, much closer a mean laughter.
“Great then I even don’t need to shoot you to let you burn, looks even more like an accident!”
‘Who?’ Mac thought and the last thing he got before he lost conscious was even more insidious laughter and a galloping horse.
‘No, this can’t be the end’ He reasoned unbelieving with himself but he was so tired. Mac slowly closed his eyes.
“No, you don’t die on me now! Not now!” yelled Sean as he let himself, a blanket around his shoulders, down through the hole of the nearly inexistent roof. He had bound the rope around the big branches of a tree that overlapped the roof.
The boy had himself soaked through the skin with water and was as dripping as the blanket, which he laid now over Mac. First he tried to pick up the beam but when it didn’t worked he kicked and pushed to move it at least an inch to pull him away underneath. There Mac woke up still dizzy but now with joined forces they managed to get him free.
Sean put the blanket around them and supported Mac. They looked frantically around and Mac’s luck didn’t abandon him. A new exit appeared in the burning wall. Pete had made his way through too.
“Thanks, Thanks a lot all of you.” wheezed Mac and added after he could breath normal again “Who are you?”
“My name is Sam!” The boy looked once more fascinated at MacGyver.
Fortunately it started to rain now.
Somehow Pete felt is was better to leave his friend and Sam alone and so he offered to bring Mac’s horses into his barn and take care of them. Li was eager to help him
So they sat inside with a cup of tea as MacGyver listened to the boy’s story.
His mother worked for ‘ The Times’ in LA, which belonged to her father, his grandfather. They both fought for the rights of Afro-Americans. Almost ten years ago Sam had seen when they got both killed for exactly that reason. He was just four at that time.
MacGyver’s face went straight pale and he looked comforting at Sam “I’m sorry, I know how you feel.”
They looked in each other’s eyes and Mac couldn’t resist laying a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“Sam? Was your mother’s name Kate, Kate Malloy?” He continued with a dry mouth.
“You knew her, right!”
“Yeah, we were friends.”
“Very close friends! You were engaged ”
“Yeah, but a few days later I got drafted.
“I found this in Mom’s little wooden treasure box.” The boy got a silvering and a picture of a couple out of his jacket pocket. The writing on the back said ‘For my Angus! I love you Kate.’ It had been her present for him.
MacGyver heart skipped a beat. This was the ring he had given her as gift to their engagement. He had engraved A & K, 23rd of March 1861 inside the band.
“You are my father?”
Mac already had figured that out but was stunned anyway.
“They said you died in the war.” Sam rubbed his eyes, and looked embarrassed away.
MacGyver took him in his arms and whispered “Oh my God! I wished I had known. Why didn’t anybody tell me about you.”
And after a few seconds he added, “I was captured in April 64 and couldn’t write anymore.”
Kate found out soon after Mac had left that she was three months pregnant. She didn’t want to worry him, so she didn’t write him about the baby. After she hadn't received a letter for more than 7 months, they assumed he was dead. Shortly before the war was over Kate got killed and some friends of her took care of Sam. When Mac came finally free he heard what had happened to Kate and decided he wouldn’t go back to L.A. But nobody told him he had a son.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
After they both had composed themselves a little MacGyver asked. “If you thought I was dead, how did you find me and why this caper with the herd.
“I started to search for the murderer about one year ago. Nobody really believed me that I could recall his face. A few days ago Mr. Ripley appeared in the newspaper office and said he heard about my researches. He could find out who had killed them and help me to track him down for a lot of money, which of course I didn’t have.
So he suggested I should work for him. He wanted to know if I have any pictures of my grandfather and mother. So I lead him into the private rooms and showed him a painting of my grandfather and also a picture of my mother and father.” Sam swallowed.
“Suddenly Mr. Ripley grinned fascinated. He told me, he had some unfinished business to do and that’s why the race will be in ‘Serenity’ and he knew I’m the perfect man for this job. I didn’t know why but I guess I do now. He really hates you huh?”
“Yeah and his name isn’t Ripley. He was a killer and tried to kill me twice, last time five years ago before he started his life as a so-called businessman. For him it must have been really funny to have the assistance of my son to kill me.”
“Helping him to distract you so that he could easier blow up your barn was stupid, man. I really didn’t know that he planned to kill someone.” Sam uttered meekly and guiltily.
“Hey, we all make mistakes. But you also saved my life.”
His son glanced at him grateful.
“He wanted me to ride his best horse and so I would win in every case and should give him the money then.”
“Nice try, but that’s not gonna happen. We’ll tell the sheriff your story.” Sam looked scared again.
Don’t worry. Nothing gonna happen to you, provided you never burn down my barn again.” Mac added with joking a grin. “Deal!”
“Deal!” The teenager smiled for the first time.
But unfortunately we have not enough proof that he isn’t Mr. Ripley and what he has really in mind. But I know he won’t give up and would also hurt you to get me.
"So what we gonna do. I'll help you."
“I don't thinks so. We gonna do nothing. I will join in the race and wait what’s gonna happen.
“You mean you give yourself out as a kinda bait!”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
At the day of the race all assistants of Mr. Ripley were there but no sign of himself. What a surprise! It was said that he had became really sick.
Mac has joined the two-day-race on the back of his good friend Cookie. She was the daughter of his yellow mare. Her hair was black as the night and she had the slim Arabic body from her father. A white star decorated her forehead.
He was on the third place and the morning went by without any strange events. Although he had always the feeling that somebody was following secretly. In the afternoon he made an one hour break at the rest station set for that leg of the race. After he had taken care of Cookie he got himself some water.
After they were back on there way again Cookie became slower and slower. She snickered like she was in much pain. Mac got down and looked at her hooves, fetlocks and legs carefully but couldn’t find anything.
He also saw that she felt a little better without his weight. So he took the saddle and blanket down and made a terrible discovery. Somebody had put the lid of a metal tin under the blanket and the saddle. The sharp edges had already caused some ugly wounds.
‘Murdoc you and your crazy games!’
“Oh Cookie I know this must hurt, I know.” He stooped the bleeding with a hankie and started to look around. After a while he had found what he needed: some sage leaves and chamomile blossoms. He cooked it over a campfire with a little water into a paste and let it chill. Then he stirred in some honey from his supplies and carefully applied it on the cuts. Cookie neighed again a little, but let it happen.
“I’m already finished. Good girl.” He patted the horse's neck.
Then they went on, Mac on his feet with the saddle on his shoulder the mare ambling next to him, just with the blanket at the high of her shoulders leaving her sore spots free.
Dusk came over them and they still were on the prairie. But just about one and a half mile away, you could see a little forest and behind that in a lightly blue, the mountains. Mac was just thinking stay there over night when he could make out a man on a horse behind them at the horizon, riding in fast gallop toward them.
The four other participants had already gone ahead of them and he had this feeling in his stomach. MURDOC! There was nothing for cover nothing to work with, just prairie.
“Okay, Cookie could you bring us just over there to the wood, please!” He asked friendly but his glance was serious.
“Look what I have here!” and he got out a handful chocolate chip cookies. “Your favs!”
The horse took them greedy from his hand and enjoyed while he swung on her back leaving the saddle behind. Cookie reacted to his commandos at once and galloped like a lightning.
Anyway as the arrived at the forest, Murdoc had come pretty close and a bullet failed Mac on purpose just about two feet. Mac got down and disappeared with Cookie in the wood.
Not before long, Mac stepped on a glade and saw with one look that this was probably someone's hiding place. A little cabin stand there. Nothing could be heard. Curious as he was he opened the door and went inside. In front of a fireplace there was a rocking chair with the back to Mac.
“I knew you would join the race instead of your son.” And the well-known laughter could be heard again.
“Just tell me what you want Murdoc!”
Ah, that’s pretty easy MacGyver: I want you see suffering like I did last time. I feel down fifty feet into the river.
“Well, it wasn’t my plan.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
A gun pointed on his back Mac had to make his way through the forest. The surrounding changed and more and more rocks appeared between the trees. Their little journey ended in front of an old, decayed wooden bridge that leads over a river about two hundred feet below them. Last time they had a fight on a point were the river was much wilder, so when Murdoc fall in he had no chance and just got swept away. He nearly drowned. But even if the water was calmer here, the fact was that, this time it was four times a further drop and MacGyver everything else but happy. His stomach was twinging.
“Now go ahead walk over, MacGyver.” Murdoc grinned gleefully.
Mac swallowed thinking if there was any chance to get over this bridge. Well he would soon find out. He made his first step when he suddenly heard something he had never heard before.
“DAAAD!”
Mac and Murdoc turned surprised around at the same time.
“Sam?” Mac got out unbelieving, moved unfortunately a little bit to fast and lost balance but was able to get hold on the edge. Sam wanted to help him but Murdoc stopped him.
““Look who we have there! The betraying assistant! If you do that I’ll shoot you first and then your father”
Mac could pull himself up again. “You have me, leave Sam alone!
“You’re a betrayer and a murderer, Murdoc!” Sam shouted angry.
Murdoc was about to point the gun at the boy again. “Didn’t your mother teach…
Mac hit Murdoc gun out of his hand into river. Then Murdoc landed his fist right on Mac’s chin and tried to go after the boy with his knife.
Mac back on his feet at once jumped between them, taking Sam down. Protecting him he wanted to turn around to fight Murdoc but starred shocked when he saw the blood on Sam’s skirt. It took MacGyver a second till he felt a sharp pain in his right shoulder and realized; this was his own blood. Murdoc kicked him hard and Mac went down again. Sam hit Murdoc right on the nose, but before Murdoc could beat or stab his son, Mac ripped of the stinging nettle next to him pushing into right into his adversary’s face.
A rage he had never known until this day gave him the power to hit Murdoc really hard in the stomach. The both fall down. Murdoc tripped over Mac’s feet falling over the edge. He got grip on the bridge but when Mac was on his feet to get a look, the bridge gave way with a loud crack, taking Murdoc down into the river as well.
“MACGYVEEEEEEEERRRR!!!!!!”
“Are you alright Sam?” Mac asked concerned as he pulled the boy near him looking for injuries.
“Yeah, but what about you?
“Don’t worry I’ll live.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Mac laying in his bed a bandage around his shoulder was glancing at Sam, who sat on the edge of the bed.
“You followed me the whole time right?”
“Yeah.” He said in a low voice looked down on the floor but then smiled “Now I know how you came up with Cookie!”
“Yeah right,” Mac smiled back, ”but distraction doesn’t work here, Sam. It was very dangerous and not a smart thing to do and you know that. I really like to get to know my son. Don’t put yourself at risk like this again. I will try to do the same, okay.” Mac finished and gave him a friendly pat on the cheek.
“Ok, Dad.”
"Promised?"
"I promise if you promise too. Deal?" His son negotiated clever.
Mac laughed.
Deal, Samuel. So how did your Mom come up with that?
“It’s a Nickname. Sean A. Malloy, S. A. M. Sam. Get it?”
“Yeah. What about the A?
“Umm”
“Let me guess! Angus?”
“Yeah, Mom loved it but I’m not too crazy about it, though.”
“I know the feeling.” Mac smiled.
There, Pete came inside.
“Mac you said I could take Cookie to pull my carriage. So she would have something to do without pressure on her injuries.
“Yeah, what‘s the problem?”
“She doesn’t want to move not even one step.”
Mac and Sam smiled at each other.
“Come, Pete I’ll show you. “ The boy offered with a big grin. “She will do her best, for a handful cookies.”
* * * * * * *
Will Mac wake up or is his dream not over yet? Was this a prophetic dream and Mac will find out soon that he has really a son? We will see! |
| QUOTE (rda_mad @ May 2 2005 12:15 AM) |
OK here we go....
Chapter 3 of No More Mr Nice Guy - I didn't give it a title of its own - didn't think it really needed one.
The usual disclaimers apply:- I don't own MacGyver he belongs to TPTB at Paramount and Winkler / Rich Productions and I just borrowed him for a little while..
I just wrote this for fun...honestly!!
Thanks to Dr D for the quick turn around - anything you don't like is down to me.
Enjoy
*******
No more Mr Nice Guy – Chapter 3
The hissing of static from the long finished video finally worked its way into the depths of MacGyver’s sleeping brain and with a reluctant groan he cranked one eye open. The TV screen stared balefully back at him, just flickering occasionally to remind him it was still switched on. He pushed himself into a sitting position, the case from the video falling from his chest to the floor as he did so. Picking up the case he rolled his shoulders to work the kink out of his neck and made his way to the VCR.
‘This day just gets better and better’ he thought to himself ‘First I try to help somebody, end up ruining a perfectly good pair of jeans and doing jail time! Then I fall asleep and have the weirdest dream and wake up with a stiff neck. Perfect, just perfect. Let’s just hope tomorrow is better.’
MacGyver ejected the video and after putting it back in the case he was drawn to the cover picture. He had seen the picture a thousand times before but never really noticed how, in the right light, the woman on the cover looked a little like Kate Malloy.
He hadn’t thought about Kate in a long time, not that he would ever forget her; it was just something he chose not to dwell on. Seeing the picture again drew his thoughts back to his dream. Idly he stroked the picture with his thumb.
“Kate” he whispered, although there was nobody there to hear him. “Sweet Kate. Why now, why did I dream of you now, after all this time?” Alone in his apartment his only answer was the sound of his own breathing and his heart breaking….again.
A moment passed, he pushed the threatened tears back and put the video back on the shelf. Without a backward glance he headed from the living room, flicking off the light.
Try as he might MacGyver just couldn’t sleep properly, flashes of his earlier dream kept finding their way back into his mind, but now they were jumbled with the events of earlier in the day and seemingly random events from his past.
He was running, trying to find a place to hide.
Running from whom?
Hiding in a burning barn… Pete and Li were there and another boy… a boy he couldn’t remember properly, a boy whose face he couldn’t quite see.
An old lady with gasoline had set fire to the barn… and now he was in jail.
Murdoc had him locked in jail and was going to kill him….
The shadowy boy was there again, watching in the background and as he watched Murdoc pull the trigger he knew there was something about this boy that he really should remember….
“NO!” MacGyver was awake and upright in an instant, sweat soaking him, his heart pounding in his throat. The last images of his dream, his nightmare, faded in the morning light that now spilled into his bedroom as he gasped air into his lungs and gradually stilled the shaking in his limbs.
‘It’s only a dream’ he told himself ‘Only a dream’. But he had read somewhere that dreams were not only the mind’s way of sorting out problems but could also be a premonition of things to come. He kind of hoped that wasn’t true… anything that might involve Murdoc was best left alone.
A short time later a calmer, cleaner MacGyver backed his jeep out of the garage of his loft apartment and headed for the Phoenix Foundation. As he spun the car onto the road something moved at the corner of his vision. It looked like a man, dressed in black, sitting astride a black motorcycle just watching and waiting. Watching and waiting until MacGyver started to drive off and then the bike sped past him, close enough for the draft to rustle his hair. Close enough for MacGyver to see that the figure on the bike probably wasn’t a man…. it was smaller… maybe a boy or a woman. The bike was traveling too fast for him to make out the features of the rider.
Deciding he was being paranoid and that it was purely coincidence that the bike had taken off in the same direction as him at the same time as him, Mac turned his thoughts back to what he was going to tell Pete. After yesterday he had vowed never to help anybody again. He didn’t think that Pete had believed him but he was wrong. MacGyver meant what he had said yesterday and today he was going to tell Pete that and ask him for some time off from assignments at the Phoenix Foundation.
He was going to take himself away from the trouble that seemed to follow him around and go off into the mountains, to Minnesota maybe, and walk and climb and just be on his own.
He needed time to think, to recharge his batteries, to see if he would ever be ready to face the world at large again.
“I told you yesterday Pete, I’m through with helping people and I meant it! No more Mr. Nice Guy Pete, no more.”
Peter Thornton got up from behind his desk and crossed to where his friend sat casually in a large armchair. He had known MacGyver a long time, they were more than work colleagues, they were friends. Close friends; close enough to have stared death in the face a few times together. Pete was the one person who knew MacGyver well, or thought he knew him well, the one person who knew his moods and just occasionally the way his mind worked.
He knew that deep down, one of the things that made MacGyver who he was, was his inability to ignore somebody in distress. He could never refuse the kid with the broken bike, the neighbor with the leaking pipes or the call of his country to help.
“But Mac…”
“No Pete I’m serious this time. I’ve had it! I’m sick of being chased and shot at. I’m sick of people just expecting me to help, expecting me to do the impossible with nothing.”
“It’s what you’re good at” Pete tried to break into MacGyver’s tirade with his light hearted comment.
“No Pete, not any more. I’m tired, I just need some time away, someplace quiet where nobody wants anything from me, where nobody knows me, where… I dunno Pete….” Mac paused and ran a hand through his long blond hair sighing as he did so….”I guess where I can just be me.”
“You are serious aren’t you?” Pete knew the answer before he asked the question. He had watched with a growing certainty as Mac had talked, pulling himself upright in the chair, his body becoming tense as he spoke, that Mac was serious, that he wanted, needed this time away.
“Yeah Pete, I’m serious. I need this.”
“Ok Mac you got it. Take as long as you need. Can I do anything, get you anything?”
MacGyver was on his feet now, the tension easing. It had been easier than he had expected to get Pete to agree to give him some time off. He had a whole stack of arguments and reason that he hadn’t used yet!
“No Pete, thanks but no. I want to do this on my own.”
The two men shook hands and then embraced.
“I’ve only one request Mac.”
“What?”
“Let me know where you end up… just in case. I promise not to call or visit or anything like that but… well you never know when you might be glad of some company!”
“I’ll think it about Pete.”
“MacGyver!” Pete’s exasperated call was all but drowned out by the sound of his office door shutting as MacGyver fled from the building to God knows where.
Several hours later MacGyver was packed and ready to go, relieved at last to be getting away from the noise of the city. In just a few hours he would be in the silence of the Minnesota outback, miles from civilization, miles from a phone and, hopefully, miles from trouble.
He wondered where the cab had got to, when he called they told him 15 minutes and that was at least half an hour ago. If it didn’t come soon he would miss his flight. He was just on the verge of turning around and going back inside to call the cab company again when he heard the loud roar of a motorcycle. Turning in the direction of the sound he was rewarded by the sight of a black bike flashing past him. It looked like the same bike that he had seen that morning. The bike sped on then abruptly stopped, the rider turned and stared long and hard in MacGyver’s direction before flaring the accelerator and pulling away into the distance.
‘That was weird’ Mac thought ‘looked like the same bike I saw this morning, maybe somebody’s following me. Then again LA is a big city there must be hundreds of black motorcycles out there. See this is why you need a break, you’re jumping at shadows. Now where is that cab?’
Almost on cue, as if the driver had heard his thoughts, a cab pulled to a stop on the far side of the road and the driver stuck his head out.
“You MacGyver?”
“Yes. Thought you weren’t coming.”
Shrugging the driver replied, “Crash on the Interstate the whole area is snarled up. Where you going?”
“The airport and I’m already running late.” Mac replied as he tossed his rucksack into the trunk and got into the cab. “Can you hurry?” he asked the driver.
Without replying the driver took off from the sidewalk with a screech of tires, the unexpected movement throwing MacGyver back in his seat. The cab continued at the same hair-raising pace, weaving in and out of the traffic, heading, or so it seemed, in the general direction of the airport.
After the first few minutes of being bounced about like a rag doll MacGyver had got his feet wedged behind the drivers seat and was hanging onto the door handle.
“Hey! I know I said I was late but I WOULD like to make it to the airport!”
There was no reply from the driver, as if he hadn’t heard. The clear plastic shield that separated the driver from the passenger prevented Mac from reaching forward and attracting his attention. He tired to make eye contact each time the driver checked his rear view mirror, but with his eyes hidden behind mirrored sunglasses the driver’s eyes remained a mystery.
Horns blared as the cab ducked in and out of spaces in the traffic, spaces that were often only just big enough. Mac glanced back as the sound of squealing brakes signaled another near miss. A long way back in the traffic he thought he saw a black bike, following their path, weaving its way towards them but never really getting any closer. The bike was easily powerful enough to have caught up with the cab, and yet it didn’t. Another puzzle that Mac filed away to think about later. If he survived the cab ride that was!
A sudden sharp turn and the cab cut across the highway and down an almost deserted side street. In the narrower side streets the pace slowed somewhat, but not enough to make Mac feel comfortable. More twists and turns and the cab had pulled further and further away from civilization.
“Hey!” Mac shouted, determined now to get an answer from the driver. “This isn’t the way to the airport!”
“Told you… the Interstate is snarled up. This is a short cut.”
“I don’t think so. I think you’d better stop the cab right now and let me off, I’ll find some other way to the airport.”
By now the cab was deep into the industrial quarter, surrounded on all sides by warehouses and small factories. The area was past its prime and many of the buildings were deserted and boarded over. Litter swirled on the streets and the sense of danger pervaded the air.
The cab swung into the parking lot of a small abandoned warehouse and came to an abrupt stop, once more catching MacGyver off guard and causing him to slam into the dividing screen.
“You’re crazy!” he railed at the cab driver as he hurriedly pushed open the door and got out of the cab rubbing his sore forehead. The cab driver had got out and opened the trunk then stood back leaning against the side of his cab whilst MacGyver leant into the trunk to get his rucksack. “You could have killed us both!”
With his head inside the trunk MacGyver never had the chance to see the gun the driver pulled from his waistband, but he felt the searing pain as it impacted with his temple sending him spinning into unconsciousness with only the slightest of groans.
“No MacGyver, not kill us both, just you” the driver of the cab stood over the still form of his arch nemesis and slowly peeled back the thick latex prosthetic face that he had worn. His disguise had been good, good enough to fool MacGyver but then again dressing up and playing roles had always been something that Murdoc had excelled at.
Back on the highway the black clad figure pulled the bike over and frantically searched the traffic in both directions for any sign of the cab. ‘No sign…. It couldn’t have got away… it wasn’t that far in front… Damn! I’ll just have to start looking again… can’t have gone far. Now where could it be?’
After a few moments of thought, watching the traffic thunder past, the figure on the bike seemed to make a decision and firing up the bike once more slipped out into the traffic. In the opposite direction to the way the cab had gone.
***********
What will Murdoc do now he has MacGyver?
Who is the mystery biker and what do they want with Mac?
Will Mac ever get his time alone? |
| QUOTE (Amy @ Jul 10 2005, 09:35 AM) |
OK, guys. I've worked on this all day--really--I did nothing else, because it was one of those things that just had to get out or I'd lose it. I've already spent 2 hours editing it and changing the close of it at least 3 times. So I'd better post it before it gets lost in editing oblivion--Vina knows what I'm talking about!
OK--I guess all the same disclaimers apply--just for fun. I hope whoever's next can run with what I've provided--I can see how it would end if I wrote it, but I'm curious what someone will do with it! Keep in mind I haven't seen anything much beyond second season in over 10 years, so if there are incongruities, please excuse them! And I hope I haven't given this a too serious turn! Enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter 4
The floor was vibrating. Well, no, that wasn’t right. Airport...taxi...Murdoc!
He was in the trunk of a car, he assumed the taxi, which was on the move again. And his head hurt. When he touched the spot where he’d been cracked with the gun there was the beginning of a sticky scab and a lump. Ouch.
Well, this is turning into another fine day! MacGyver thought, all but longing for the gasoline soaked clothes and jail cell of yesterday.
He maneuvered around the space and found it to be fairly roomy. There was the spare tire well sunken into the floor. He quickly slipped his hand under the carpeted cover. No tire. Wait...something metal. The jack. He gave it a good yank. It was bolted down. Figures. OK...good. The nut was only finger tight. He pulled the jack out and quickly assessed it’s usefulness. He might be able to expand it enough to force the trunk open.
Except now the car was slowing. Gravel under the tires. They were coming to a stop. He wouldn’t have time now to work with the jack. He could, however, use it other ways. He repositioned himself to give the trunk lid an extra boost with his legs when it was opened. He knew he couldn’t get the leverage to throw the jack very far, but hopefully it would be enough to buy him a few seconds.
The car was turned off and the driver’s door opened. The rattle of a large door slamming down. They were inside a garage or something similar. MacGyver was as ready as he was ever going to be.
~~~~~~~~~~
Murdoc’s curiosity was piqued by the black clad man on the black motorcycle.
Who was this? He doubted it was a Phoenix agent...too clumsy in the following. He had lost the bike after turning off the highway to tuck MacGyver away in the trunk to keep their final destination secret. Amazingly, they’d been rejoined some time later and the rider was following at a distance that caught him in the rear view mirror occasionally. Yes, clumsy, but it could be interesting. He had found them again, after all. An unexpected turn in Murdoc’s plan. He could adapt.
He turned the cab into yet another parking lot, this one belonging to an abandoned office and warehouse complex. There had been some scuffling around in the trunk a few miles back. MacGyver was, no doubt, getting restless.
Murdoc made a show of glancing around, though not lingering at any one spot. Ah, there in the stand of trees. No doubt thinking he was invisible. Let him think I’ve missed him. We’ll have such fun, all of us together!
He pulled the car into the warehouse through an open docking bay door and shut the engine down. Leaving the driver’s door open, he shut the noisy garage door.
~~~~~~~~~~
The trunk latch popped and the lid began going up. MacGyver was lying ready on his back, thrusting with his feet to increase the lid’s speed. With the new clearance gained by the open trunk, he heaved the jack over his head and through the opening at...no one.
Mac ground his teeth together. Must have been a trunk lever up front. He hadn’t expected that. That meant Murdoc was still at the front of the car. Reformulating his plan, he unfolded himself tentatively from the trunk, dragging his rucksack out after him. He kept his head well below the open trunk lid. Murdoc had to know he’d gotten out because the car shifted, but he didn’t want to volunteer as a target.
“I had actually expected a little more from you, MacGyver. ”
Mac grasped the strap on his bag tightly and planted his feet. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Yes, you’ll have to stop doing that, won’t you?” Murdoc’s voice was getting closer.
MacGyver caught Murdoc coming into his periphery. Now or never. He swung the sack, connected, then felt himself being yanked off balance. He hit the concrete floor...hard.
“You know, MacGyver, I don’t think you want to resist me right now.” Murdoc tossed the sack down behind him and drew something that looked like a small handgun out of a jacket pocket. “I have no intention of killing you. Yet.”
Mac didn’t move from his position on his back, unsure what to make of the veiled threat behind the weapon. He assumed it was the same gun that had connected with his head earlier. “That’s good to know....kind of. What is it you want?”
Murdoc grinned. “Oh, of course I want to kill you. After all, you have been a thorn in my side for a very long time. But I intend have a little fun first. Sort of put you to the test.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “What kind of test?”
“For me to know and you to find out.” Murdoc regarded the handgun lightly. “I hadn’t counted on using this, but I’ve had an unexpected, though tolerable, change in plans. And I can’t have you getting creative in my absence.”
He aimed and there was muffled whish! Mac moved, but not quickly enough. At close range the dart hitting him in the chest might as well have been the bullet he’d expected. Suddenly, he felt like he had to tell himself to breathe. He scrambled to pull out the offending object, but knew the drug was already working. His hands were bricks.
There was a clatter at some distance and Murdoc whirled around at the noise. MacGyver managed to turn his eyes in that direction. In his rapidly dimming field of vision he caught a glimpse of someone in black disappearing through a doorway. He vaguely connected this someone to the someone he’d spotted earlier on a motorcycle, then his brain stopped cooperating and blackness dropped over him like a heavy, suffocating blanket.
~~~~~~~~~~
The rider in black cut the engine of his cycle and eased it into a small thicket of trees near the road. He could have kicked himself for his stupidity. He didn’t even know how he’d lost the taxi in the first place. At least he’d picked up the trail again...once he stopped to think it through. Cars just don’t disappear that quickly from a highway. Especially a bright yellow taxi. Of course, they had to have taken the exit.
He eased his slight figure toward the edge of the trees. The guy in the front of the car was looking around, as if to make sure they were alone. He didn’t think he’d been seen. Good. The car pulled into the building, far enough that he could no longer see what was happening. The man appeared briefly and clattered the door shut.
The rider rocked back on his heels. Now what? Was MacGyver even still with this guy? He hadn’t seen MacGyver inside the cab after he’d regained the trail. He wished his palms weren’t so sweaty. He wiped them on his black jeans, telling himself to grow up and think. He’d have to go inside, but find a different way. He couldn’t be seen yet.
Taking off at a sprint, his long legs carried him quickly to the side of the building. He rounded the corner, out of sight of the garage bay where his quarry had gone in. The first window he came to revealed a view of the taxi’s front end parked about halfway into the warehouse. Through the dingy glass it looked like the trunk was open and the guy who’d been driving was beside the car, talking to someone. MacGyver?
He kept going. The next window was busted out and showed him a separate room. That would work.
Once inside, he carefully navigated among strewn shipping supplies and pallets to the doorway. He could hear words being exchanged and then a brief scuffle. Edging toward the opening, he saw that it opened directly on the scene in the warehouse. He was looking at the shotgun side of the car now. And there was MacGyver, half lying on his back behind it. The other guy was standing over him with a small gun, saying something about a change in plans.
He licked his lips. What should he do? Yell? Adrenaline told him to get to the cab, but as he stepped out into the warehouse he saw the man pull the trigger. Where was the sound? In horrified slow motion he saw MacGyver grab at his chest and fall back to the floor. No! Unsure if he called out, the rider moved backwards toward the doorway, tripping over a pallet as he went. He scrambled to his feet and rushed to the window opening, knowing there was no way he hadn’t been seen.
~~~~~~~~~~
Murdoc grinned at the now empty doorway. You’ve made this so easy for me, whoever you are. Glancing at MacGyver’s unconscious form, he said, “Sleep well. It might be your last.” He loaded another drugged dart and went through the doorway. Empty. Had to have gone out the window. Back into the warehouse and out into the gravel lot. Scanning the area, he could see the motorcycle. No sign of the rider. He cornered the warehouse. There was a place where the building cut in on itself just behind the shipping room, a waste disposal area complete with a rusting dumpster. He assumed that would be the first place the rider would hide—especially so quickly. He also knew the doors here were locked. There were no windows.
He rounded the next corner into the alley-like space. Trash was scattered, along with broken pallets, and, of course, the dumpster.
“I don’t know if it matters to you because I don’t know who you are yet. But MacGyver is not dead. He will be, however, if you don’t reveal yourself.” Murdoc moved further into the space. “And you might as well, because I will find you.”
A brief moment later, the rider sidled from behind the dumpster. Murdoc almost let his surprise show. Almost. The “man” was hardly a man at all. Just a teenager. This would be more interesting than he thought.
“What is your name, boy, and why are you here?”
~~~~~~~~~~
His head really, really hurt. MacGyver had no idea how long he’d been out. He hadn’t exactly checked the time when he’d been shot with the tranquilizer and he couldn’t seem to see well enough to look at his watch, anyway. His chest was sore where the dart hit, too. He was lying on a cold slab of something, probably a concrete floor. And it was spinning. He closed his eyes, deciding it was better to not try to see. It felt like his head was filled with rocks, but he still struggled to put together what had happened.
Gasoline...Pete...taxi...Oh yeah, Murdoc shot me...no didn’t really shoot me...something about a dream. His head really hurt.
OK. Time to sit up. This took more intention than he realized. How long would it take to shake this stuff, anyway? He managed to gather his arms underneath and pushed himself up to sit against a wall. The floor spun faster and he felt like he’d lose his stomach any second now.
Head between his knees, MacGyver took deep breaths. OK. Let’s have a look. Slowly, he opened his eyes. A little fuzzy around the edges yet, but at least the room wasn’t spinning now. He lifted his head and rested it against the wall. The room was small, single door, block walls. The door was metal and he assumed, locked. He squeezed his hands into fists and then shook them out, as if to fling away the last of the unnatural sleep. His vision and, even better, his head, were clearing. A glance at his watch told him it was still Tuesday—he’d missed supper, in fact.
There was a knock at the door. Pretty absurd, given the circumstances. There was a heavy click and the door swung in. Mac squinted, expecting a barrage of light from the other side.
“I trust you slept well.” Murdoc’s voice seemed especially cheery.
MacGyver grunted. “How ‘bout we just get on with it, Murdoc? I’m in no mood to play games.”
Murdoc pursed his lips. “Tsk, tsk. We’re not in a good mood are we? No matter. It’s about to get better...or worse, depending on your point of view.” He paused a moment as if expecting a response. He got none. “You’re about to find that I’ve spent a lot of time here, customizing it just for this occasion.”
“Pretty confident weren’t you? What if this occasion hadn’t happened?”
Murdoc gestured with his hands as if this were the most pleasant conversation he’d ever had. “Oh, that possibility just wasn’t...well, possible! Anyway, you’ll also discover that the exterior security is fairly nonexistent. You could very easily just walk away.”
That seemed a little humorous since Mac wasn’t even sure his legs would hold him yet. “What if I do walk away? What happens to your...whatever this is?”
“Oh, but I know you, MacGyver. You just can’t resist a good challenge. Especially when someone’s life is at stake.”
Mac’s heart skipped. This wasn’t just about him.
“I see you’re curious. I certainly would be.” With that, Murdoc produced a remote from a pocket and pressed a button. A speaker overhead crackled. To MacGyver, he said, “Go ahead, ask who it is.”
He suddenly wasn’t sure there was enough spit in his mouth for his tongue to function. “Um...Hello? This is MacGyver...Who...”
“Mac?! MacGyver?” Murdoc cut the connection.
His gut dropped. He instantly regretted his brusqueness with Pete this morning. “I’m through with helping people and I meant it! No more Mr. Nice Guy...” How could he have known... He regained his focus. It took colossal strength to get to his feet and look Murdoc in the eye. “Where’s Pete? What have you done to him?”
Murdoc seemed amused and pleased. And unintimidated. “He’s here. In the complex. And he’s perfectly fine. His well-being will be largely up to you.”
MacGyver ventured a step closer, he hoped more threatening than shaky.
Murdoc held out his hands. “That’s not all. My unexpected change of plans includes a young man who seems to have an acute interest in you.”
At Mac’s puzzled look, he continued, “The motorcycle rider in black. He says his name is Sam.”
MacGyver’s brows drew together at vague memory and his mouth went dry...his dream...the burning barn...Sam. Surely not! It was a weird dream...Just a very, very, very strange coincidence...
“I see that means something to you. That’s good to know. Shall I tell you what your challenge is?”
Mac suddenly needed the wall for support. There was too much to process already. He had to focus.
“To make it simple,” Murdoc continued, “you must find them and rescue them. Or not. As I said, there is nothing stopping you from leaving...except their possible deaths on your conscience. If you accept, you’ll find various, shall we say, amusements along the way.”
“Traps.” MacGyver’s voice sounded tired to his own ears. Hadn’t he just said he was done with this kind of thing? Now he was being forced... He growled, “Why bring them here? We both know you just want me! Why do you even need all...this?” He gestured wildly at their surroundings. Then he lunged and grabbed the front of Murdoc’s shirt. “Just be done with it!”
“Part of having you, MacGyver, is challenging the very depths of who you are,” Murdoc said darkly. “I haven’t even told you the best part. ” He cleanly removed Mac’s hands and shoved him back against the wall. “You might want to save the strength you can gather.” He turned and stepped outside the door, then faced Mac again. “Peter Thornton and Sam are waiting somewhere, not together, in the complex. Survive my traps, find your friends. Then decide who gets the antidote.”
Mac’s eyes widened. He could barely give voice to the word. “Antidote?”
‘Yes! You see, I’ve had something special made for the occasion. I’ve administered one dose to each of us. Two were real, two were a harmless look-alike. I have no idea who got what. Intriguing twist, isn't it? The poison is very slow moving and there are practically no indications until the last hour or so. Death occurs in...” He consulted his watch. “...10 hours. Our watches have already been synchronized.” He reached into a pocket and withdrew a small vial filled with liquid and, without warning, tossed it to MacGyver.
Mac almost didn’t react in time. The vial bobbled among his fingers before he clasped it firmly to his chest. He looked up from his hands in disbelief and horror. “You said two of us are basically dying. This is just one...”
Murdoc’s lips curled into something like a smile. “There is only one dose of the antidote. You are essentially choosing who will die, MacGyver. If you die, I win, for obvious reasons. If you live, I win. Why? Because you have to live with your choice to let someone else die. And that might be even better than killing you!”
Laughter rang down the hall as Murdoc turned and walked away, leaving the door wide open.
~~~~~~~~~~
OK--now it's up to you! Who's next?
Will Mac take up the challenge?
Will he make it through Murdoc's clever traps without losing his life or the antidote?
Is the mystery rider/Sam who Mac suspects? Is his true identity revealed?
Who are the two who were poisoned, and who will die???????????
DUN DUN DUHHHHHHHHHHHHH....
Don't leave us hangin! |
 ~ MacNymph ~
Sometimes the uncontrollable urge to mess with people outweighs the millstone of humility.
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| MacNymph |
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Phoenix Special Agent
Posts: 3,348
Joined: 4 Jul 2005
Gender: Female
Country: USA
SAK owned: Climber
Favorites
Season: season 3
Episode:Rock The Cradle (today)
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Black/Navy flight
House: House boat
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| QUOTE (Sheepy @ Jan 23 2006, 08:01 AM) |
Okay you guys, I decided to give it a try.
Bare with me here, as this is my first time and it is not my story to begin with.
My part isn't that long, since I first want to know what you guys think.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
MacGyver was breathing heavily as he watched Murdoc leave.
With Murdoc’s evil laughter still ringing in his ears, he decided to take on the challenge.
“I’ve so had it with you, you sick freak!” he shouted, more to himself than for Murdoc to hear. “I will not let anyone die, nor will I die myself!”
Mac looked around, assessing the place. He leaned against the old and rusty cab which Murdoc had left behind. The tires were stabbed to pieces. Murdoc had used his Swiss Army Knife to keep Mac from simply driving off to go and get help.
He picked up his knife and stumbled towards the other side of the hall, where a big, black door seemed the only right way, except for the big garage door behind him.
Well… in this case, I will have to try and get IN… He said to himself.
Since he was determined to rescue Pete and the stranger, whoever it might be, he figured the door was the only right direction to chose.
“C’mon Mac, clear your head… or at least try to” he thought, trying to prevent the drug from taking over control.
He reached for the door handle. To his great surprise it gave way and the door slightly opened.
As if stung by a bee, Mac let go of the handle and pulled his hand away from the door.
“Oh no, Murdoc, this is way too easy. Not your style” he thought up loud.
Mac peeked through the dirty glass of the small window in the middle of the door. The dirty glass didn’t give him a clear view, but he could definitely see several strings behind the door, leading to the staircase in the middle of the dim corridor behind it.
With his back against the door he sank back to the ground, while looking around for things he could use.
He saw rusty nails, a pile of metal and plastic pipes, wooden pallets, broken glass….
He got an idea. His eyes moved back to the pile of pipes and he got back on his feet. A little too quickly as he got a little light in the head. He waited for a few seconds, then picked up a plastic pipe.
The pipe was slightly S-shaped like the ones in kitchen sinks, it was downright perfect.
MacGyver walked back to the cab, tore off a side-view mirror and smashed it to the ground. The mirror broke into a dozen tiny fragments. He grabbed a few pieces and his rucksack which was still on the ground. He zipped open the front pocket of his bag, took out a piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth.
As fast as his legs could carry him, Mac ran back to the door. With one end of the pipe he broke the little window in the door and wiped it clean again.
When I was a little kid my grandfather Harry had shown me around on a naval base one day and ever since then I was fascinated with submarines.
These boats had the technology to spot enemies and hostile targets without being seen themselves, or… even without being real close to them.
I thought one of these technologies might come in handy right now… So I decided to build myself a periscope, just to see what was going on at the other side of that door…
With a long nail he positioned two pieces of gum inside of the S-shaped pipe, right in the bended parts and stuck two big fragments of the broken mirror on it.
MacGyver stuck it through the hole where the little window had been and looked around through his home-made periscope.
Like he had expected he strings were attached to the door handle, making a complicated construction to trigger a device as soon as the door was opened. On the metal banisters of the stairs, Mac could clearly see the shape of two rifles pointing at the door. If he had opened the door like he wanted to do in the first place, he would probably have been shot.
So, all I have to do is cut the wires and go and look for Pete…. that’s all…. Mac thought to himself.
The only thing was to find a way to do so without getting shot. Bullets have the tendency to go through wood, you know...
Again he ran back to the cab, pulled open the front door and lifted it out of its hinges. He placed the door upside down onto a few pallets , creating a –hopefully- bulletproof shield.
MacGyver slowly opened the door ajar, just slightly, so that the rifles weren’t set off.
He opened the cutters of his Army Knife and cut the strings.
Within a fraction of a second a terrible noise filled the entire hangar! Both rifles fired all their guns at once, while Mac sought cover behind the cab door. There were sounds of bullets hitting the door and the sound of metal against metal.
MacGyver was blown backwards by the force of the bullets slamming into the metal door.
And then it stopped…
It all got quiet again.
~~~~~~~~~~~
If you guys don't like it I'll shut up and just go back to my song lyrics again....
Btw; thanks MacNymph! As you can see I've edited it |
| QUOTE (Sheepy @ Jan 25 2006, 10:01 AM) |
Okay, let's continue...
I only write small parts, I've gotten really excited doing this, but I have to do it at work (shush, don't tell anyone!)
I must admit I get more and more nervous doing this...
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It took a little while before there was any movement inside the hall. By kicking wildly, Mac freed himself from underneath the cab door, which was reduced to nothing more than a worthless piece of scrap metal.
Checking the corridor for any more booby-traps he slowly started walking towards the metal stairwell. The exploding gunpowder from the rifles had created a dense fog in the already dusky hall.
“Pete?!” he yelled, trying to find out the location where his friend was.
There was no reply, only the sound of his voice resonating against the walls of the staircase.
Great. Just perfect.
His first impression had been that this factory building probably was a tall one and from what he can see from looking up the stairs, he had been right.
Finding Pete would be far from easy and with Murdoc’s drug spreading through his blood that would probably take quite some time.
Time he did not have.
MacGyver noticed that climbing up the stairs wasn’t as easy as it had been before. The entire staircase was swirling upside own and coloured spots started dancing before his eyes.
Not a good sign.
With great efforts he managed to reach the second floor. Checking both sides of the dark corridor he could not see anything peculiar.
“Pete?! Where are you?! It’s me, Mac!” he yelled again.
Again, nothing.
A sudden fear that his friend might be already dead overwhelmed making him feel like he was going to see the sandwich again which he had eaten that same morning.
He decided to go to the left. The vinyl on the floor that used to have a shiny red glow, now was so outworn it had turned into a rusty brown colour. It squeaked unpleasantly with every step he took.
Unconsciously his hair started standing on end.
After a few feet, there was a door on his right. Mac tried it. The door handle came right off and he wondered whether it was due to a part of Murdoc’s scheme or simply because of old age. This door was unlocked too.
With his foot he slowly pushed the door open, while seeking shelter behind the doorpost.
Nothing.
The room was empty, except for a pile of dusty cardboard boxes.
“This will take ages.” MacGyver thought.
He continued walking down the hall, to find nothing. Except for more dusty boxes. A lot of them.
“Pete?! C’mon Pete, answer me!”
With a dizzy feeling he climbed up the stairs to the third floor when he suddenly thought he heard a sound. As quickly as he could he ran into another corridor and opened the door from where he thought the noises were coming from.
There was a flash of bright white light, followed by an enormous blast.
The great force of the explosion caused Mac to be blown backwards, smacking his head against the adjoining wall.
Mac had no idea how long he had been out when he came to, lying in the corridor. He had trouble focusing his eyes; everything around him seemed to be a blur.
He tried to look at his watch, only to find out it had been destroyed by the blast.
“Aw man, this just keeps getting better!” He shouted out of frustration.
When he tried to move he felt an odd tickle in his forehead. At first he blamed the drug for this unpleasant side effect. But then he felt the aching spot on his head. Blood.
From the way it felt he could tell he must have passed out for quite a while, the blood wasn’t sticky and reddish anymore, but already clotted.
MacGyver wasn’t known to be a quitter, but right now he felt like all the luck in the world had left him. His entire body ached and the heavy feeling of Pete possibly being dead was too much for his central nervous system.
For the first time in a very long time, MacGyver cried.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dum da da dum, daaaaaaaa
Stay tuned folks, there will be more...
(I hope)
Many thanks to MacNymph for editing |
| QUOTE (Sjaop @ Mar 14 2006, 07:40 AM) |
It's been a while, but I haven't forgotten about the round robin. Here's some more.
Please don't pay attention to typos or oddities, it hasn't been edited... 
********
He had been crying for a few minutes when he recalled the sound that before reaching the third floor.
There was still hope. Harry had told him to never let go of hope.
Something must have caused that sound.
The first thing he had to do was trying to find out where it came from.
He crawled back up on his feet while leaning on the wall for support.
Making his way through the rubble he was amazed he had survived the blast. All of this was Murdoc’s plan. Both boobytraps hadn’t killed him, thusfar. If he had wanted, Murdoc could’ve killed him easily.
This sick maniac had made a habit out of turning Mac into a hunted prey. It was all part of Murdoc’s dirty mindgame.
The door to the office was blown to pieces. The inside was, well,… the inside was gone really.
Then he heard it again. It was a soft buzzing sound, now more distinct than it had been before. It came from the other side the corridor.
While turning around he saw a small red light flickering. He tried to seek shelter, afraid it was another bomb, when he realized it was a security camera. Ofcourse.
Murdoc always liked to watch his victims die.
Mac was overcome with a slight feeling of shame, as he couldn’t stand the fact Murdoc had probably seen him cry. By now he was REALLY getting ticked off.
He stumbled towards the camera while looking into the lense very intensely as he just knew Murdoc was watching. An enormous rage started to spread through his veigns.
He was standing in front of the camera, not really if Murdoc could hear him, but he said.:
“I swear Murdoc, when I get out of this alive, which I will, I’ll make you pay. I promise I will make you pay!”
Without saying anymore, MacGyver took the camera in his hands and ripped it off the wall and threw it to the ground with all his might.
He presumed Pete nor the stranger would be anywhere on this floor and thought he’d better go up.
With the feeling of his stomach turning he looked up the stairs. He doubted his legs could carry him upstairs once more. But he had to. For Pete’s sake
… and his own….
How he had reached the fourth floor he had no idea, but the thought of his friend just kept him going. This was the top floor. Pete had got to be here.
At least this floor was brighter, because of the glass-panelled rooftop from which some parts had been broken over the years. The blowing wind had full play to blow around old pieces of paper. Despite the Californian temperature outside it gave him the chills.
MacGyver decided to cautiously move away from it, to the other part of rhe floor where the ceiling hadn’t been damaged.
No camera’s, well as far as he could see there weren’t any.
On this floor he found more empty offices, supply rooms and lavatories.
Mac walked on, turned around a corner and tried a few doors. All were unlocked.
All,... but one.
A gut feeling told him this one could be the one leading to Pete.
The door was firmly shut, no handle, no keyhole, no nothing... He tried kicking it in, but it did not wedge a single inch.
Heck! It did not even creak! Besides, he was fastly running out of strength and he still hadn't seen any sign of Pete, nor of anyone else, for that matter.
When he investigated the door and it's surroundings he noticed a small hole in the opposite wall.
He came a little closer, carefully, afraid of walking into another trap.
It was a small, round hol, about as wide as a thumb.
Watching it more closely, he saw it was a tiny glass bulb, sticking out of the wall. At first he expected it to be some kind of laser, but soon he figured it was the lense of a small camera.
A Camera!
Murdoc was obviously expecting some more of his sadistic "entertainment" in this part of the building.
Mac begrudged him having any more fun on him and his efforts in finding his way through this death trap.
Slowly he backed away from it and ran back to the supply room he had come across a few minutes before.
The supply room was dusty, but luckily never been cleaned out completely when the company moved away from the building.
He started looking around for some left supplies that might come in handy. On the floor, only about 2 feet away from him, there was a role of his beloved duckt tape...
Well, duct tape had proven its use before, so he grabbed it and slid it around his arm.
On one of the shelves were bottles of bleach and ammonia, and glass bottles labeled “ALCOHOL”. There were boxes of nails, plastic pipes and empty jerrycans scattered over the floor, a bucket and a rotten, old mop, some ropes.
On the other side there were halfway perished packages of coffee pads, creamer and sugar. Too bad they had not forgotten to leave behind the coffee machine, he never had liked the taste of coffee, but he sure could’ve used a strong espresso right now…
“Think MacGyver, think!”
He licked his lips, searching every end of his brain to try and come up with something.
After a few seconds his eyes widened. Ofcourse!!
As quickly as he could he grabbed a few bottles of bleach, the sugar and an empty jerrycan and placed them by the closed door. He filled the empty jerrycan with a little water he got from the toilets.
All of this while cautiously avoiding stepping into the view of the camera.
Holding a strip of tape between his teeth, he tore it off and stuck it on the camera lense.
“Goodnight Murdoc!” he grinned.
Believe it or not, but when I was a kid I had those fases in which I could get a little rowdy. And with my passion for fysics that made quite an interesting combination. Especially in cases when my history teacher decided to flunk me. Not because of my unsatisfactory mark but simply because I did not always agree on his points of view.
I have a broad back, but a man can only take that much.
So I decided to get even.
One night I went to his house and mixed some chlorine, sugar and some water in a jar and screwed the lid back on. I placed it inside his mailbox and ran like mad.
It’s amazing that such a small explosion will literally rip the mailbox in half and send it 200 feet into the air! It was pretty harmless, but it gave him a good fright alright!
I figured an explosion this small would be perfect to blow up the door without causing too much damage on whatever was inside.
Mac set the closed jar right in front of the door and sought shelter around the corner of the corridor.
Only seconds later there was a loud bang and the smell of bleach filled the air. When he looked around the corner he could see the glass roof had been blown to pieces and parts of the chalk wall had turn to dust.
The most important thing was that the door had been blown inside.
“Man, I love fysics!” he yelled with glee.
Coughing, he made his way through the corridor and stepped into the room.
There was no furniture inside except for one black leather chair in this office, with its back turned towards the door. Or, where the door had used to be.
“Pete?!” Mac shouted. A soft murmur came as a reply from the chair while he heard the leather creak. There was no way of telling who was in the chair.
He repressed the feeling of rushing up towards the chair when he saw a bunch of electrical wires across the floor, which were all connected to the chair.
Up against the wall was another camera, registrating every single movement in the room.
Two of the wires led to two black boxes on both side of the walls, another two were put underneath a broad metal strip that stood up a little and covered half the room.
It was obvious this setup was an improvised version of an electric chair. As soon as MacGyver would set foot on the metal board, the electric circuit would be closed and the person in the chair would be electrocuted. That was the “best” case scenario.
In the worst case Mac would get fried as well... |
| QUOTE (Sjaop @ Apr 2 2006, 05:56 AM) |
A feeling of sickness was spreading rapidly and again he got the feeling the contents of his stomach would show. He rushed out of the room, trying to get a breath of fresh air, coming through the broken rooftop, but he was too late. He fell on his knees and threw up.
Luckily, the venim had no effect on his thinking, just on his locomotion. There had to be a way to get Pete out of there.
He stumbled towards the toiletroom and splashed cool, refreshing water into his face and wiped his neck.
Slowly, he walked back to the office.
The metal board was too big to just jump over it. Creating a short cicuit was too dangerous as the risk of electrocuting his friend was too big.
With his army knife he screwed open one of the boxes. There were connected in such a way there was no way of going around the circuit. Cutting one of them would cause electrical overload in the boxes, killing his friend and probably frying himself.
The buzzing sound of the camera made MacGyver realize Murdoc must bee zooming in on him and his showing frustration.
“Hang on Pete, I’ll be back”
“Well, if there’s no way to go around it, maybe I should try going underneath it….” he said out loud.
Despite a killing headache Mac’s brains were working at top speed. He made his way back to the supply room and pulled out three plastic pipes. It seemed like he was working on autopilot.
Next he ran towards one of the empty offices where he found himself staring at a window. Without even knowing exactly what he was doing he ripped off one of the hard plastic strips that were meant to keep out the draft.
While holding the plastic pipes and strips under his arm he ran back to the office.
With the duct tape he taped the ends of the pipes together, it kind of reminded him of one big, square-shaped magnet.
He broke the hard plastic strip in two and stuck both ends on the ends of the other two pipes, creating an improvised lever.
Ignoring the buzzing camera on the other side of the room he carefully shoved the small plastic strips underneath the big metal plate.
Personally, he had nothing to worry about as plastic materials did not conduct electricity, but his friend in the leather chair on the other hand…
MacGyver tried not to think of what might happen if his plan did not work out the way he hoped it would…
Slowly he tried to get the plate off the ground. At first it did not budge a single inch, but he didn’t give up. He slid the plastic strips a little further under the metal board and tried again with great exertion..
Slowly, just slowly, the plate started moving. As soon as the front came off the ground, Mac kicked the role of duckt tape underneath it to keep it there. By kicking the duct tape further and further he prevented the plate from falling back on the ground and found his way to the wires which were hidden underneath it.
He had been right, this whole set up was meant to electrocute someone as soon as he’d set foot on top of it.
“I’m here Pete, I’m going to get ya out of here!” he yelled at his friend, while disconnecting the trigger on both wires.
As fast as he could he ran towards the black leather chair in order to free his friend from the position he was in.
When he turned the chair around he stood baffled.
Where he had expected to find his dear friend was a young man. About 17 years old. A stranger.
Or wasn’t he? His face looked familiar and his eyes reminded him of someone. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it…
Mac removed the tape that had been stuck over the young man’s mouth and untied the straps which held him down.
“Who are you?” he asked “Where’s Pete?”
The young man’s face turned red, it was clear to see he didn’t know what to say.
“I… I don’t know…”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? Surely you must have a name, don’t you?” Mac bellowed. He was starting to lose his temper.
After all he had been through he had really longed to see Pete again.
There was no way of knowing how much time had gone by and, more important, how much time he had left to find Pete and the antidote.
“I don’t know who you’re talking about… I…. I am Sam, I got hit by… I…”
Mac jumped out of the way just in time before the boy threw up. The kid had turned as pale as a ghost.
“Whao! Easy, come on. Let’s get you out of here.” He said, while leading Sam out of the office.
He lead him to the toilets where Sam tried to ease his breathing again, leaning on the sink. MacGyver noticed Sam’s watch was counting down.
2 hrs. 07 minutes. 23 seconds.
He assumed that was their deadline.
The kid kept looking at him in a very piercingly way. A gutfeeling was telling him there was something he should know about the boy, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
When Sam’s face had retrieved a little of its normal colour he started talking, there was a slight tone of hesitation in his voice…
“I don’t know any Pete, my name is Sam and I don’t think I was supposed to be here.”
“But how in heaven’s name did you manage to end up here? “Mac asked, with growing surprise.
“Well erm… I was on my way to the old marina and I got almost run over by that peabrain taxi driver of yours, so I decided to follow him and ask him what the hell he was thinking”, Sam replied while turning his head away.
Mac could see his face turned red. Something just didn’t add up, he could only remember a bike way back behind the cab, there was no memory of a bike being driven off the road. Not even close to be driven off… Or maybe there was and the drugs just erased it…?
MacGyver shook his head, trying to put his thoughts in order. He didn’t exactly have time tot hink about these things right now.
“I followed him right down to the old warehouse when I saw he had a gun pointing at you.” Sam continued. “And I’m not the kind of person who sits back and does nothing, I just couldn’t leave you there with him. I saw him clubbing you with the back of his gun”
Mac felt his temple. At least that part was true. There was a big bump on his head confirming the kid’s story.
“I mean, I’m no detective, but I can tell when something has a foul smell to it, and this absolutely seemed kinda fishy, especially when I saw this moron put you in the trunk! When he drove off with you I tailed him and.. well… it led me here. Guess I was too brash.. he got me. I was my own stupid fault, I never should’ve….. “ He stopped in the middle of a sentence.
“Who is this maniac anyway?!”
“Aw man, I guess you can say you really got yourself in over your head. Murdoc is not exactly your regular kind of killer, it’s the most deranged man ever brought to this planet!” Mac replied while tapping Sam on his shoulder.
“Do me a favour, pull up you sleeves, will you? “
Sam frowned, but obeyed and Mac investigated his arms.
“Did this wacko inject you with anything?” he asked.
“Yeah, but you won’t find anything searching my arms. He jammed the needle into my thigh, it has been hurting like mad!”
“Has he said anything else?”
Sam showed him his watch, which was still counting down. “No, he just set the stopwatch and laughed. He has a very nasty laugh, did you know that?”
MacGyver grimaced. “Come on, let’s go, the clock is ticking. And according to that watch, we ain’t got much time left.”
By now Mac had started to become a little desperate. He had searched the entire building and there had been no sign of Pete.
The watch indicated they had 1 hrs and 54 minutes to find him.
AND the antidote!
“Sam, do you have any idea where my friend can be? I’ve searched every floor in this building and I’m kind of in a hurry, you know”
“Have you tried the annexe?” the boy replied, gesturing to the backside of the building. “It’s where I hid my bike.”
Without saying another word Mac rushed downstairs as fast as he could, with Sam on his heels. On their way down they passed the rubble of the two blasts and the demolished door.
“What happened here?” Sam shouted with surprise. But he got no reply. Mac had made his way towards the open door and ran out.
When he got outside a sharp pain in his head made him topple on his feet. The bright sunlight was blinding him and made him lose all sense of direction. He cried with pain and frustration.
Sam had been standing in the doorway, watching every move Mac made.
Was this his dad? Was it really him who had saved his life? It had to be him. All the pieces of the puzzle matched perfectly.
Besides, his treasured locket held a vague picture of the same man who was in obvious agony right now.
He rushed out and lend him his shoulder for support.
“It’s this way” he said, while leading Mac through the cool shade of the back alley, to the back of the building.
In front of the small ramshackle building MacGyver saw a black motorcycle which he recognized as the same bike that had been following him this morning.
Sam wanted to enter through the main door, but Mac held him back.
“Careful, you never know what’s behind that door.”
MacGyver climbed onto the trashcan to look through the window, but he couldn’t see a thing, The glass was too dirty and the room inside pitch black. He took the lid off the trashcan en threw it against the metal door. Nothing.
At least this door wasn’t wired.
They sneaked through the door and they found themselves in another large factory hall.
******
If anyone has some tips or tricks on how to continue, please feel free to PM me.... |
~ MacNymph ~
Sometimes the uncontrollable urge to mess with people outweighs the millstone of humility.
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It took quite a while, but here's the sequel to the round robin that isn't exactly a round robin anymore.
*****
The foul stench of old oil was still in the air and grease stains were visible on the dirty concrete floor. The combination of the smell and heat made Mac almost topple on his feet.
Obviously this factory hall had stored heavy machinery many years before.
"You wait here while I go looking for Pete.,” he said to Sam.
"No," he said resolutely, with determination in his eyes, "you got me out of there and now we're in this together. Besides, maybe I can help."
Too tired to fight and too sick too argue, MacGyver let him come along.
This warehouse was almost as big as the first one, but it was much higher and it was obvious Pete wasn't anywhere nearby.
"Stay behind me and be careful, this place is probably just as wired as the other one."
Their eyes scanned the room. In the back to the left they saw a big metal door. Cautiously, they made their way over and stopped in front of it.
Sam reached for the door handle, Mac wanted to stop him and warn him. But he was too late...
The door simply opened with a terrible squeak.
Suddenly there was an enormous noise above them, echoing through the entire warehouse. They both leapt aside, seeking shelter against the wall, afraid of what would come next.
The noise grew louder and then suddenly died again.
"Pigeons!" Sam said, his voice had a strange high pitch. The kid quickly cleared his voice and restrained himself. He pointed at the group of birds that settled down again underneath the dirty glass panes of the high ceiling. "Nothing to be afraid of!"
Sam tried to sound confident, but Mac saw his hand trembling. Unwillingly he smiled, the boy reminded him of himself when he was a teenager.
"Come on let's go. But don't go opening any doors like that gain!"
They peeked around the open door, only to see a deserted dim corridor and at the end of it another staircase. No camera's...
Together they continued down the hallway. When they came to the staircase they saw two metal doors next to it.
"Elevator doors..." Mac mumbled.
"Pete?" he yelled, while looking up the staircase. Like before, there was no reply. Sam slowly started walking up the stairs, anxious to put a stop to all of what was going on.
"Just hold it for a second, will ya?" MacGyver said and he turned back to the elevator.
"What is it this creep wants us to do?" the youngster asked when he jumped down. "It's what he expects me to do." Mac replied. "Do you want me to take the elevator, Murdoc, or should I walk?" he asked out loud.
"I don't even know what I'd expect from you and you're supposedly my old man!” the kid thought to himself
MacGyver stepped a little closer and inspected the doors thoroughly. There were fresh finger marks on the sides. Pete's?
He clearly smelled fresh creeping oil. So the prints must be Murdoc’s... he figured.
"This is too sloppy for your doing Murdoc, it's too obvious...." he said and he slowly wiped his finger along the sides of the doors. It was indeed fresh creeping oil.
"Could you please enlighten me on what the heck you're doing?" Sam started to get impatient.
"No time," his companion said, "let's just say I have a bad feeling about the elevator. We'll take the stairs."
The second floor was nothing more than another corridor with two empty engine rooms.. And again there was no sign of Pete.
Mac's eyes held still at the elevator doors again. He hesitated for a second, but then moved on to the third floor.
"How many floors are there?" Sam asked as he looked up the staircase. "This could take hours!"
"Yeah, hours we don't have!" MacGyver replied, pointing at Sam's watch that was still counting down.
The watch showed only 69 minutes remaining, afte that the effect of Murdoc's poison was irreversible...
Mac felt a nasty twitch somewhere deep in his gut, but he knew it had nothing to do with the injected poison. He had always had the gift of keeping his cool and finding ways out of sticky situations. But now, fear slowly started to crawl its way up his spine. What if he didn't make it in time?? What if he found his best friend but no antidote??
There was no time for panic, they had to find Pete and stop the poison in little over an hour. He wouldn't let Murdoc win.
MacGyver shook his head as if he tried to shake the negative thoughts out. He looked at Sam who's was leaning against the wall.
Then there was this youngster he was aslo responsible for, he thought to himself. He was panting and sweating and his face had taken on a terrible ash-grey colour.
Sam felt he was being watched and turned to face MacGyver.
"Man, I really should quit smoking!" he tried to joke.
"Yeah, nasty habit." Mac replied smiling.
They turned around, making their way up to the fouth floor when they heard a buzzing sound. They stopped dead in their tracks
"What's that?" Sam asked. MacGyver didn't answer, he just pointed upward. In the corner of the staircase was a camera. Beautifully covered up by old, rotten wall panes, but visible nevertheless.
"There's a trap here somewhere, so watch your step" he whispered.
"He likes footage of his victims?" the kid asked with sudden fury. "He's sick! I'll rip the camera off the wall!"
Before Mac could stop him Sam rushed passed him and tried to make his way up. There was a loud "CLICK" followed by a hissing sound. MacGyver grabbed him by the ankles and pulled him down roughly. Out of the walls and from the staircase itself a dozen small darts were ejected, barely missing Sam as he was lying flat on the stairs. As quickly as they came, they went leaving nothing more than silence.
"What the ????"
Mac helped Sam up and picked up one of the yellow darts.
"He tries to kill us by using us a human dart board??" the boy asked puzzled. MacGyver smelled the dart.
"Methanol." he said. "The darts tips are drenched in methanol. Harmless at first, until it reaches the liver. There it's converted into formaldehyde and formic acid. Pretty lethal..." Mac explained. He looked into the camera with a bewildered expression on his face
"Why is he going through all this trouble if we are going to die anyway? It doesn't make any sense!"
MacGyver looked into the camera one last time and continued his way up.
"Now would you please do as I say and stay behind me? You could've gotten us killed just there!"
Sam said nothing, he just stared at the floor and followed Mac in silence
****
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They reached the fourth floor and proceeded through the long corridor without saying a word. There was an eerie silence, even their steps didn't resonate against the concrete walls.
The corridor split up into another hall way.
They could either go left or right... Or continue up to the fifth above them... So many opions and too litle time.
Mac stood still and considered their possibilities. Sam saw the expression on his face and suggested to split up.
"No!" Mac said fiercely, "this place is too dangerous, I'm not going to let you walk around on your own!"
"It's the only option! You still haven't found your friend, nor have we found the antidote and we only have 42 minutes left!" MacGyver was surprised about the fire in the kid's eyes.
He knew he was right. But this place was another death trap and he also knew they could both easily fall victim to Murdoc's wickedness.
After seeing the determination in Sams face her said "Alright, this is how we're going to do it, You'll search this floor and I'll take the top one."
He looked Sam deeply in the eyes. "But be careful, Murdoc isn't your regular kind of killer. He thinks everything through, so, promise me you'l be careful!"
Sam rolled his eyes like a typical teenager "Relax, I will!"
"Promise me!" MacGyver said again, grabbing the kid's shouders
"Okay, okay, I promise!"
"If you see any camera's or anything else that's suspicious you call for me, okay?. And pay attention for holes in the walls and also be careful when opening doors if..."
"OKAY! I GET IT!" Sam yelled as he freed himself and straightened his jacket.
With a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach Mac turned around and started climbing the steps to the top floor.
"Hey!" the boy called after him, "You be careful too, okay?"
"Yes sir!"
Mac reached the fifth floor and saw the coridor to the right was blocked with metal panels. So he turned left. His eyes scanned the corridor but he found no cameras, nor anything else out of the ordinary.
There were rooms that Mac presumed had been used as offices. A dirty toilet which had its door off of its hinges. Everything looked like it had done after the buidling had been deserted. Old and dirty fire hose
Not a sign or trace of Murdoc.
He turned another left and found more empty offices. This was a dead end.
Mac was about to head back when one floor lower he heard Sam calling.
Only seconds later he heard a huge blast, which made the floor and walls, tremble.
"SAM!!!!" Mac yelled when he rushed for the stairs. He ran down them, taking three steps at a time. Even from the distance he was and through the greyish-black smoke he could see Sam lying motionless on the floor.
Sam was very badly hurt and he was bleeding severely. There was the afwul smell of burnt human flesh in the ar.
MacGyver kneeled down at Sam’s side "Oh God NO!" Sam come on kiddo, you can't die on me here!!"
He felt for a pulse and was relived when he found it. It was only weak, but at least it was there. Blood trickled out of the youngster's mouth and nose.
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Thanks Toni! It's pretty hard to continue a story line you didn't come up with yourself, but I'm trying to make the best out of it.  
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After the last bit of smoke had cleared Mac looked around, still holding Sam's head in his hands.
There was a big hole in the wall about 10 feet to the right, probably where the bomb or some other kind of explosion had been hidden. Was this why Sam had called for him? Had he discovered another camera or booby trap??
"Later' he thought to himself. He first had to tend Sam. He lifted an unconscious Sam in his arms and kicked open a door. At this moment he didn't care anymore if it was wired. Whatever drug or poison was in his blood, it had taken the best of him and he wasn't sure how long he could keep any more of this up.
The door flew open and hit the wall with a big bang, but nothing else happened.
MacGyver laid the Sam back in the corner on the floor and pulled off his sweater. With his army knife he cut it and ripped out the seams.. The long strips of cotton fabric he used as bandage to tend the worst wounds which were obviously the kid's shoulder and left leg.
A broken chair stood in the opposite corner and Mac cut out the cushions and placed it underneath Sam's head and leg
"Come on Sam, hang in there, okay?!" he said trying to sound confident.
He needed to find something to keep the bandages in place...
He got up and searched the floor but returned empty handed.
No ducttape, no pieces of simple string, no elastic bands, no nothing.
His mind started racing again.... Wait a minute.... elastic bands....
He turned back to Sam and carefully took out the dog tags the kid was wearing. The tags were lined with some sort of rubber...
"I'll buy you new ones, I promise"
He removed the rubber lining and cut them in two. They made excellent elastic bands. Slowly and gently he moved the black rubber over the improvised bandages and tried to prevent the bleeding from getting worse by placing them high up the shoulder and near Sam's knee.
Still, the kid was very badly hurt and needed to be taken to the hospital asap.
He glanced at the boy's watch. The glass was broken, but it was still working. Minutes remaining: 23. And ticking.....
Mac got up and walked towards the door and stepped out. He turned around one last time.
"I'll be back" he mumbled and closed the door behind him.
Why had Sam called for him?
Slowly he walked back into the corridor to where Sam had walked into a trap. It was only a few feet away from the elevator.
Mac kneeled down and investigated. The nasty smell of gun powder and burnt flesh was still in the air. It made his stomach turn.
When he searched the concrete floor he saw something glistening from the corner of his eyes.
MacGyver turned around and saw the remains of very thin fishing lines.
Exactly the same kind of lines he and Harry had always used for fishing trout. Very strong but hardly visible and satisfaction guaranteed.
"Trip wires"
From the position of the wires he'd say Sam had been on his way to the elevator. He got up and walked towards the elevator doors, they were slightly ajar.
Mac grabbed hold of them and pulled them further apart. There was click, followed by a bright flash which blinded him completely. MacGyver crumbled and reckoned he had walked into another trap.
But all was still.
His eyes needed a few seconds to recover from the intense light, but after a minute the coloured balls before his eyes disappeared.
He looked up and saw a photo camera that seemed to hover somewhere in midair. After a closer inspection he saw it was ducttaped to the elevator floor that appeared stuck between this floor and the next.
"I've SO had it with you!!!"
He grabbed the camera and threw it through the corridor with great force.
"Come out from under that rock you're hiding and show your cowardly face!" MacGyver yelled with sudden rage. "Come here and finish it like a man!"
But Murdoc was nowhere in sight.
He stood there for a few seconds, trying to swallow his anger and frustration, when he heard a muffled sound. At first he thought it was Sam who had regained consciousness, but when he checked on him he was the same as when he had left.
MacGyver ran back to the elevator and heard that same sound again. It gave him the chills.
****
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****
"Pete?!?!?!" he yelled. The muffled sound answered, only louder this time.
Mac peeked inside the elevator but as he already expected it was empty. He noticed the machine was highly unstable so he figured it had been tampered with and jumped back.
There was something off with this elevator. Well, apart from the instability, that was. He just couldn't put his finger on it.
He took another look at the interior of it and saw pieces of a shattered mirror that had covered the back wall. Where the buttons had been there was nothing else but electric wiring left.
Clearly the panel had been ripped off.
When he saw it, it hit him like lightning; the escape hatch was sealed off. By the looks of it, it had been welded shut quite recently! Murdoc hadn't exactly done his best covering it up.
"PETE?!" MacGyver yelled from the top of his lungs.. Again there was that faint answer.
It came from on top of the elevator roof.
Mac immediately backed off. He had this distinct feeling this could be another set up.
Since there was too much movement in the elevator he figured at least one of the cables must have snapped. Or been cut...
"Pete! It's me, Mac! Hang on, and try not to move too much!"
His mind was surprisingly clear and he felt much better than at the beginning of this nightmare
"It just doesn't add up..." he thought to himself while he rushed up the stairs.
But he had no time to think about that. Main priority now was getting Pete out of that shaft. And getting Sam to the hospital.
MacGyver inspected the metal panels on top of the stairs that blocked his way to the elevator shaft.
Of course! He felt so stupid! He had wasted so much time checking this floor and hadn't paid any attention to the only obvious objects that were out of place, these panels.
They looked like heavy fire doors; only these weren't airtight as there was a small gap between them.
Mac squeezed his hands in and pulled with all his might, the doors didn't budge an inch. Even kicking them didn't have the slightest effect.
He had no idea how much or how little time they had left but he had to come up with something or else all their struggles would have been in vain.
And worst of all: Murdoc would win.
"Come on, think, think, think...."
When searching this floor he hadn’t come across any storage rooms, therefore he knew that he had nothing to blow the panels off with.
Unless...
He ran towards the old fire hose that still hung on the wall.
It was quit a long shot. Since this building was deserted a long time ago the water could have been cut off. But on the other hand there had been water in the other abandoned building as well...
MacGyver took the nozzle off the cradle and turned the tap. He could hear the noise of the water being pumped into the hose. He closed the tap again.
"Thank God!"
As quickly as he could he rolled out the entire hose and pulled it through the corridor up to the metal panels.
Mac kneeled down, pulled out the laces of both his army boots and firmly tied them around the hose, right behind the nozzle.
He squeezed it between the gap and proceeded back to the tap and opened it fully.
"Pete?! If you can hear me, in the worst case scenario get ready to kick some water!!"
*****
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The water quickly filled the hose and its rubber expanded making a stretching noise. Near the nozzle the pressure built up quite rapidly and started working the metal panes.
A scratching sound came from both floor and ceiling as the metal slowly moved from its place. There was a loud CRACK when the left panel broke out of the ledge that had kept it in place.
At that exact same moment the water hose exploded and water squirted everywhere.
After MacGyver had turned off the tap he hurried back and kicked down the panel with surprising ease.
Mac took out his loyal army knife and stuck it between the elevator doors. By wedging it back and forth he managed to get them ajar and pulled them further apart with his hands.
When he looked down the dark elevator shaft he saw Pete lying on top of the elevator, only a few feet lower.He was tied up and gagged and he was bleeding from his temple but at least he was conscious...
Pete looked up and Mac saw the great relief and gratitude in his eyes.
"Hiya Pete! What ya been up to?!" he joked.
"Hang on, I'm coming down"
MacGyver observed the situation and immediately saw that the elevator indeed had been sabotaged. Two of four steel cables had been cut. One of the two remaining ones was only hanging by a thread.
Getting Pete out of here wasn't going to be as easy as he had hoped. One sudden move and the entire thing would go down, including them.
From earlier experience he knew there had to be small iron maintenance steps somewhere in the shaft. He hated having to use them but he knew it was his only option.
Even though he could not see the bottom of the shaft his stomach ached. God, he hated heights!!
****
MacGyver knew he couldn't lean onto the elevator to cut Pete loose as the rest of the cables might snap and they both would fall five stories down.
He saw Pete still looking up with unhidden fear in his eyes. Mac grimaced in an attempt to bring a smile to his face what would comfort Pete.
There had to be a way to cut him free without stepping onto the machine.
The water in the old fire hose had still been squirting while the remains of the water tried to find its way out. Mac looked at it and pulled it over and through the upper step. After that he wrapped it around his waist and between his legs, making a harness out of it. He measured the right length and slowly he started decending towards Pete.
He felt so tired all of a sudden. His arms barely could hang on to the metal steps.
He had come this close, there was no way he was going to give in, not now. Not a chance.
About two feet above the elevator the hose was pulled tight fully and he remained hovering in midair.
"Okay Pete, slowly wiggle yourself a little more towards me." Mac said. "But be careful!"
Pete did as he was told and carefully crawled to MacGyver who had his SAK at the ready. Pete rolled over, exposing his tied hands to Mac who swiftly cut the ropes.
Pete removed the gag that had made his mouth and lips dry. He was awfully pale and he too looked like he was about to throw up.
"God, am I glad to see you!" he said, "I was sure I was going to meet my maker!"
"Nope not yet, unless we don't get the antidote soon!"
"He has drugged us both, hasn't he?" Pete asked retorically.
"All three of us. No time to explain, we have to get the heck out of here!"
After he had freed Pete's legs MacGyver helped him up and onto the metal steps. Mac turned around and lead the way up. Pete was right behind him.
Panting and out of breath but he still managed to climb out of the elevator shaft.
"Is your watch still counting down?" Mac pointed at his wrist.
"Not anymore, it has stopped, it's gotten to zero..."
"That means we don't have to search for the antidote, we're too late...." MacGyver mumbled. "But it's not sure who of us got poisoned and Sam needs a doctor fast or he will die anyway"
He helped Pete up and ran down the stairs.
"Who's Sam?!" Pete tried to follow him as fast as he could.
When he came downstairs MacGyver already walked out the deserted office with the kid in his arms. Sam was still unconscious and bleeding.
"My God..... what happened here??"
“I'll try and explain later, first we need to get some help!" Mac said as he rushed passed Pete and headed down.
His entire body ached while he was still carrying Sam but MacGyver tried not to pay attention to it and ignored it as much as he could. Pete was running alongside and somehow for some reason that comforted him a great deal.
The entire way down Pete tried to ask him questions, but Mac didn't answer.
"Later, Pete, later!"
They reached ground level and immediately made their way for the exit.
*****
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Ah guys I thought this was a round robin why is Sheepy righting it all buy her SELF?!?! I would help if I could wright MacGyver, I wright Jack O'Neill in stead.
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| QUOTE (MEP @ 25 March 2007 - 04:08 AM) | | Ah guys I thought this was a round robin why is Sheepy righting it all buy her SELF?!?! I would help if I could wright MacGyver, I wright Jack O'Neill in stead. |
Well it started out as one, but after a while nobody seemed interested in it anymore. So I asked for permission to finish it myself I took it on as I wanted to see if I could write fan fic too (I had never done it before and besides this one I haven't tried) However still noone seems to really care about it I'm determined to finish it anyway.
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There was a roaring noise that grew stronger and the hangar doors opened all of a sudden. With screeching tires a car came around the corner and came straight for them.
The tires screeched again when the car came to a sudden halt only missing them by a few inches.
The door to the driver's seat flew open and a ferocious Murdoc jumped out.
"Don't you ever die MacGyver?!" he asked with a mischevous grin on his ugly scarred face.
"I don't intend to yet" MacGyver answered with a fire in his eyes, licking his lips.
"I've been watching you making your way around all those nice things I had planted out for you." "Unfortunately your companion didn't come through in one piece" Baring his teeth, Murdoc pointed at the youngster.
"The drug isn't supposed to kill us, it was a set up, wasn't it?" Mac asked while he handed Sam over to Pete.
"You wanted us to get blown up or poisoned by methanol or falling to our death" "We're not dying, are we..... Murdoc?"
Murdoc laughed out loud, baring his teeth.
"Oh, I didn't poison you, if that's what you're asking." "That would've been way too easy, not my style, you know... "
"Oh no I only injected you with a harmless but highly advanced flu bacteria, mixed with an excelarator." "Effective enough to make you lose focus and control" "But, you see, my friend.... you ARE going to die" Murdoc lifted his jacket, showing a bunch of grenades which were hanging on his belt.
"Oh dear, time flies when you're having fun, and so will you. "Very sad you blew up all my camera's, but I will have my pleasure knowing I finally beat you MacGyver, even without the cosy snap shots"
Murdoc swiftly removed two hand grenades from his belt and extracted the pins with his teeth.
Like a mad bull MacGyver bent forward and rushed over to Murdoc, tackling him like a pro football player. He hit Murdoc with great force, decking him into the car again. The grenades flew out of Murdoc's hands. "MacGyverrr!!!!!"
Mac kicked the door closed and fell on the floor to seek shelter for what was coming next.
A huge explosion followed and a great ball of fire filled the car and sent metal flying everywhere. The glass of the windows shattered and the heat of the explosion took Mac's breath.
Coughing he got back on his feet . Pete walked over to him, still holding the unconscious kid in his arms. He caught MacGyver staring intrig into the flames, looking for whatever was left of Murdoc.
"Do you think he's d"
"Nope." MacGyver answered without letting Pete finish his sentence. "Nope, I don't"
"Shall we then at least call the fire police?"
"Nope, let it burn..."
Pete saw a hardness in Mac's eyes he had never seen there before.
"Let's go, we need to get Sam to the hospital" MacGyver said when he turned away from the blazing car.
Two and a half hours later Mac was lying on a hospital bed where he was treated for his burning wounds on his hands. His head and shoulders were already tended to. A young lady was looking after his leg when all of a sudden all lights went out.
"No, not again!" The nurse let out in frustration.
"What's up?" Mac asked.
"They are rewiring all electricity in this part of the building." "It's like the fourth time today, I think" "The generator should kick in any second now."
Outside in the hallway there was a lot of yelling and shouting and it seemed like some people were starting to panic.
The generator didn't seem to be working.
"I'm going to see what's going on, would you excuse me for a minute?" the nurse said.
"Sure."
Pete entered the room the very same moment she left.
From all Mac could see he had nothing else but a bandage on his head, probably were Murdoc clubbed him.
"How are you?" he asked, with a concerned look on his face.
"Pretty sore, but I think I'll live... ai..." MacGyver winced when he tried to sit up.
"How's Sam?" Mac asked while rubbing the back of his hands.
"Listen, that's what I've come for...." Pete started.
Mac turned around to face his friend fully. "What?"
With a buzzing sound the lights went back on and he could see a deep concern on Pete's face.
"Sam is pretty badly hurt and he has lost a lot of blood." "He needs transfusion quite fast or he might not make it through the day"
"They'll take him into surgery, but it'll be a risky operation, as he's very much weakened."
"I want to see him." "Could you take me to his room?" MacGyver asked, while Pete helped him off the bed.
He followed Pete to the room where Sam was.
The room was packed with nurses and doctors who were stressfully negotiating about what to do next.
"What's the problem?" MacGyver asked.
"Sir, you shouldn't be in here!" one of the doctor's said briskly.
"Wait a minute!" Pete interrupted aggrevated. "He's the one who brought him in, surely he has the right to know!"
The doctor took him apart onto the hallway.
"I'm sorry, but the boy needs a blood transfusion badly, otherwise we'll lose him for sure."
"I know, surely you have a bloodbank to provide it?" Pete said, not understanding.
"Yes we have a bloodbank," the doctor replied with frustration in his voice.
"But the powerfailure ruined all blood supplies as the generator took to long to start working" "We don't have blood to help him."
"What's his blood type?"
"He's AB negative, sir."
"I'm AB negative, he can have some of mine, let me give blood then!!" Mac yelled not taking his eyes off Sam
"You're in no position to give blood right now, you're too weak!"
"And you're in no position to keep me from doing it, Pete!" "I am responsible for what happened to the kid!" "I shouldn't have left him there, that booby trap had MY name on it!" MacGyver was getting aggrevated.
"Mac, whatever happened to Sam was NOT your fault. You didn't plant the bomb and he was the one who wanted to split up." "Besides, we still don't know why he ws there in the first place!"
Pete saw that his words calmed his friend, yet he remained determined in giving blood.
"Mac, before you go, ... there's erm.... there's something else you should know."
Mac's face hardened as he already knew what Pete was going to say next.
"Let me guess, no body, right?"
Pete's cheeks turned right.
He rolled his eyes, "Just great!"
The nurse saw walked up to them.
"Alright, follow me please."
They followed her to the bloodbank where Mac was assigned to a bed. Another nurse handed him a form he had to fill out.
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She took some blood from his index finger and sent it to the lab straight away to check it out if he could be a donor.
It took about 15 minutes for the results to come back. To MacGyver it seemed like an hour.
His blood was negative for any diseases and he was a positive match so he could give blood in order to help Sam.
The nurse tied a tourniquet around his arm and gave him a ball to squeeze so his veins would show.
After about 45 minutes a male nurse took off the tourniquet and unhooked him from the machine and put a small sterile guaze on his arm.
Mac knew that if he got up too quickly he would surely hit the deck, so he remained still, even though he felt restless and anxious to get up.
"Coffee sir?" the younger nurse asked.
"Water please, water will be fine" MacGyver smiled feebly.
Thirty minutes passed, while he and Pete sat side by side in silence. Neither one of them wanted to talk about Murdoc and thus about what they both automatically feared. That he was still alive. And out there...
"I'm going to check on Sam"
Pete nodded. "I'll be in the coffee corner if you need me"
Mac patted his friend's shoulder gratefully and proceeded to room 307.
But when he walked in the bed was empty.
He rushed out to the nearest nurse's station in panic.
"Ma'm, what happened to the patient of room 307??"
The nurses on duty saw the panic in his eyes and the attending supervisor smiled at him. "Don't worry sir." "He's in surgery now as the right blood type suddenly became available."
"If you want you can wait here and have something to drink..?"
"Would it be okay if I waited in his room?" Mac asked.
The supervisor nodded. "I don't think that would be a problem, sir."
"Thanks."
MacGyver walked back to 307 and went inside again. He leaned against the wall, staring at the empty bed.
A heavy sigh left his chest.
Several minutes had passed when he decided he'd better sit in the blue chair that stood beside the bed.
He buried his head in his hands.
He was supposed to be in surgery, not some teenage kid.
The ticking clock on the wall was the only sound that broke somewhat of the deafening silence.
God, he felt restless. How long had Sam ben in surgery now?
MacGyver got up again and decided to get another glass of water.
When he got back the chart at the end of the bed caught his eye. He took it from the bed and studied the graphics. Only then he saw the najme. His eyes widened. "SAM MALLOY"
"Malloy?" he mumbled to himself. "Malloy?!?"
"No,... can't be..."
==============================================================
But it made perfect sense he realized. It was like the answer to an unspoken question that had been hovering in the air for quite a while now.
Still, he had to make sure. He walked over to the nurse's station and asked for the supervisor.
"Yes, sir?" the man behind the desk in a white coat asked
MacGyver didn't know where to start as he searched for the right words to say.
"yes Sir,..I was wondering how you found out the kid's last name?" finally managing to get the words out.
"From the patient of 307, you mean?" the man looked puzzled.
"Yes, Sam never told me his last name.., how did you find out?" Mac stumbled.
"The boy was wearing dog tags when he was brought in which read S.A. Malloy, so we figured Sam was his first and Malloy was his last name."
Dog tags... Dog tags. He had held them in his hand when ripping of the rubber from them. Why hadn’t he spotted it?
*****
He slowly stumbled back to the room.
He felt feverish, his hands were sweaty and his heart was racing.
Oh God,... Kate...
It had been many years since he had last thought about Kate.
Still he had never really forgotten her.
He could never forget her, no matter how hard he tried.
Of all the women that had come into his life, she had been his one and only true love. He had wanted to grow old with her.
After she had declined his proposal he had never loved anyone else as intensely as he had loved her. He hadn't dared to love anybody like that ever again.
He had wanted to marry her but she had said that they were too young for such a commitment. Besides, she had said, her prioroties had lain with the international recognition of human rights...
Totally heart broken he had packed up all his belongings and drove off on his Harley, never to return. He reckoned he must have broken her heart in return but he was too overwhelmed with grief to care.
That had been.. what? A little over seventeen years ago?
She had tried to contact him several times by writing and calling him. But he never opened her letters nor ever returned her phonecalls.
What had become of her?
And now there was Sam... What if...? Could he be....? Had she been....?
He didn't dare finishing the questions in his head, yet he knew the answers without asking them...
It all added up.
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The way the kid reminded him of himself, how he had felt a certain connection, his last name, the same rare blood type...
Everything indicated Sam was his son.
HIS son...!
It was like someone had kicked him in the gut, as all the air left his lungs.
"Any news?"
Pete walked in to find his friend in a near catatonic state. MacGyver was holding some dog tags that had been lying on the night dresser earlier and he was staring blankly at them.
"Mac?" "MacGyver?"
Slowly Mac turned to face his friend, but the blank expression didn't leave his face.
"Mac, what's up?" "Come on, talk to me!"
Mac only looked Pete in the eyes when he felt Pete's firm hands on his shoulders.
"Something wrong with Sam?" "What is it???"
"No, no... no news yet..." Mac whispered.
"Then what's wrong??"
MacGyver didn't say a word but simply handed the dog tags over to Pete, who looked back at MacGyver with a puzzled expression on his face.
"Sam......" he hoarsly brought out. His voice didn't sound anything like his own.
Pete thought he saw tears glistening in Mac's eyes.
"Sam is my son, .... Pete..." The words almost weren't audible...
Pete's eyes widened in shock. "What?" "What are you saying?"
"He's my son!" MacGyver answered louder. There, he had said it.
"But, .. but what, I mean... how?" Pete looked at the dog tags and then back at MacGyver, who looked dead tired all of a sudden.
"He has to be, he's carrying Kate's last name, we have the same blood group, he is a copy of me when I was young..."
A big frown darkened Pete's eyes, he really was trying his best to comprehend it all.
MacGyver tried to explain everything on how he and Kate had met, on how crazy in love they had been and how she had declined on marrying him. He told Pete on how he had fled away and about that time Sam could have easily been born.
Pete didn't say a word, not even after Mac had stopped talking. He just sat there and stared at his best friend who was sitting opposite to him.
Mac got up from the chair and started pacing the room.
"Am I losing it, Pete?" "Am I seeing things that aren't there?" his face had taken on an intensely desperate expression. The only time Pete had seen Mac like this was after he had witnessed his dearest friend fall to her death while climbing a notoriously steep mountain wall.
He couldn't find any words to comfort him, so Pete merely grabbed MacGyver's shoulders and shook his head.
"I guess you could be right, you can always ask for a paternity test...?"
"...Yeah...."
"You think this was Murdoc's ultimate revenge to get to you through Sam?" Pete suggested. "Maybe it was all a set up?!"
"I don't know," Mac replied, pacing the room again. "If it was part of his plan, he would've reffered to him as my kid, but he never did so." "In fact he never even mentioned his first name." "Besides, I doubt if even Murdoc would be able to dig this deep into someone's past."
"Maybe HIT could?" Pete suggested.
"Still, it doesn't explain the matching blood type."
Mac held still and leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. This had been too much to cope with in one day.
He was known and praised for tackling difficult situations but how was he supposed to improvise on sudden fatherhood when Sam already was a teenager?? If he was his son in the first place...
"Listen, I'm going for another cup of coffee, maybe a bite to eat, want to join me?"
"No, I'm fine thanks..." Mac said, though his mouth and throat felt like he had swallowed a desert.
When Pete got up to leave, a surgeon came in.
"Are you relatives or friends of Sam Malloy?"
"Relative" Mac said
"Friends" said Pete.
The surgeon lifted an eye brow for a second but said nothing.
"We finished surgery about ten minutes ago, it was touch and go for awhile there. Sam was severely injured and he had lost a lot of blood"
"What are you saying, is he... did he..?"
The surgeon raised his hand, in order to keep Mac from interrupting him.
"He's in the recovery unit as we speak, still we have no guarantee he will make it through the night." "But if he does, he will have you to thank for it, Mr. MacGyver." "Without your blood he never would've made it." "How are you related to him, if I may ask?"
Mac rolled his eyes. God, he wish he knew...
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 WOOOWWWWWOOOWWWW WELL DONE DUX Keep going Love Dexter
Whats the point of growing up, if you can't be childish sometimes
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Pete broke in to avoid an awkward silence. "Doc, can we wait for him to get out of recovery?" "Yes, of course, but if you'd be so kind to do so in the waiting room?" "Goodnight." "So, how about a nice Ceasar salad then?" Though Mac hadn't eaten all day he wasn't hungry at all. "No, I want to be around when Sam gets back." "Would you mind if I went for something to eat?" MacGyver smiled. "Go ahead Pete, I'll be in the waiting room" Exhausted, Mac took place in the deserted waiting room. A heavy sigh left his chest. Good God, he felt mentally and physically drained. He sank deeper into the soft chair and tilted his neck back to release some of the strain. Just for a few seconds, he would only close his eyes for just a few seconds. When he woke up he found Pete sitting alongside of him. "Hi" Pete smiled. "How long have I been out?" "I came in 15 minutes ago and have been away fir what,... maybe 25" "Brought you something to eat" he said, while holding up a brown paper bag, "Tuna salad, it was the only one that still looked a little edible.." MacGyver grinned, he was blessed to have a friend like Pete. "Did I miss him?" he asked. "I just checked with the nurse's station and he isn't back yet." "But don't you worry, if he's anything like his old man, he'll live through almost everything." Mac smiled thankfully and took out his tuna salad. "Mr. MacGyver, Mr. Thornton?" The surgeon they had spoken to earlier came in. Mac quickly removed the plastic fork from his mouth and jumped to his feet. "Sam Malloy has just been brought back to his room." "You may visit him, but only briefly, he's asleep and needs his rest as he's still very weak" MacGyver and Pete followed the surgeon to Sam's room in silence. **** Mac's heart pounded madly in his chest when he walked in. At first he couldn't see Sam at all as at his bed there were two nurses and another doctor. Last one was updating the chart while the nurses hooked on the monitor and machines. The moment Mac saw his son his heart moved up to his throat, giving him a hard time breathing. The nurses left the room after they had finished with the machines, while the doctor remained behind, discussing the chart with the surgeon. Thereafter he too left room 307. MacGyver walked over to the motionless Sam and started stroking the kid's darkbrown hair. "Oh Sam, why didn't you just tell me?" he whispered, swallowing away the upcoming tears. He felt like he was being torn apatr between frustration and guilt, regret and anger. Something deep inside of him wanted to scream. Scream until his throat would bleed. But instead he fell into the same chair he had sat in earlier, feeling incredibly helpless. Distantly he heard the doctor mumbling something, but it sounded from far, far away and like it was in a foreign language he didn't understand. He didn't need a paternity test to prove this was his son. In his heart he knew. He just knew. But even it wasn't, he prayed to God the boy would live. That was all that mattered this very moment. After the surgeon had left Pete moved over to Mac who was staring at the kid with a distant look in his eyes. "It took some perseverance, but I've arranged you can stay the night here." "I had to promise you won't make any hassle, so I told him he doesn't know who you..." Pete's voice died away. "Mac?" MacGyver looked up and Pete could clearly see him struggling with the tears. "You can stay here for the night, I told the doctor you will do as you're told" "Thanks Pete, appreciate it." "Listen, Mac... I don't really want to leave you alone here, but three would be a crowd I guess." "Would you mind if I'd go and lie down in the patient's rest room for half an hour?" "I'm extremely tired and my stomach is playing up, shouldn't have trusted eating that steak... "You're in the right place for having a stomach ache" Mac smiled. "Sure, go ahead, I'll be here." Pete nodded in agreement and turned around to leave the room. "Oh, Pete..?" "Yes?" "Thanks." "Anytime" MacGyver turned back to Sam again, taking in all of the boy's handsome features. If only he had known sooner... One of the machines made a shrill beeping sound which had Mac startled for a second. But nothing happened and all went quiet again. He closed his eyes again, trying to repress the memories that were haunting his mind's eye. Old wounds always hurted the most. When he opened them again he noticed the lights in the room and outside in the hallway had been dimmed. Also someone had placed a blanket over his lap while he was asleep. Other than that nothing else seemed to have changed. The machines still bleeped regularly and Sam appeared not to have moved. He rubbed his face and eyes in an attempt to clear off the sleep. How long had he slept? He hadn't paid attention to the clock on the wall before. Now it said it was 2.55 AM. "Sweet lord, you gave me a fright!" A night nurse had come in and clearly hadn't expected anyone else in the room but the patient ***** I've been thinking over this fic so much I actually dreamt about Murdoc last night.
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| Devon636 |
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DXS Operative
Posts: 232
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Season: season 4
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| Sheepy |
Posted: 3 September 2007 - 06:09 PM
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I will, I will! I'm just helping SpaceMoose out with her fic at the moment and then I'll continue on this one. Glad you like it, guys!
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I hope MacGyver finds an antidote and that it isn’t too late. Good job Sheepy! 
wow sheepy!!!! AMAZING!!! I WANT MORE!!!!! i couldn't stop reading!! i loved it!!!!! 
