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3 Musketeers in Martinique
Epilogue:
Worth a Thousand Words
“Just tell me.”
“I don’t… I said I don’t! Why won’t you believe me?” Twitch, twitch.
“The eye, Jack… Mac isn’t the only one who knows your tells.”
“Dammit!” Jack clapped on hand over his left eye. “It’s this salt air… you know, too much of it is not a good thing! I think I’m developing an allergy.”
“Yeah… whatever.” Mike shifted her feet; she was leaning against one of the pilings which anchored the floating dock where their sea-plane was preparing to depart. “You know you’re not going to be able to get on that plane with those coins.”
“I don’t have any coins!” Jack whispered hoarsely. “And could we please not discuss this so loudly? Do you want to check my pockets? Go ahead… frisk me! You’re just dying to get your hands on this beautifully-tanned, manly bod, anyway!”
“No thanks.” Mike couldn’t keep the grin off of her face; Jack always could make her laugh away her doubts and troubles. “I wonder what’s keeping Mac… I don’t think that they’ll be willing to hold the plane for him.”
“They’ll hold it… the pilot’s a friend of Jones’.” Jack shrugged. “DEA’s footing the bill for our flight, so where else does he have to be?”
“And I wonder how Mac managed to talk them into arranging this? I figured they’d insist on us going back home… not give us a free flight across the Atlantic Ocean!”
“Oh, I’m sure that our government is sufficiently embarrassed that the biggest drug dealer in the Caribbean was brought down—not by the DEA or the ATF—but three American heroes—“ Jack made a ridiculous little bow, “—with the help of a 150 year old cannon and a fancy French flower-holder! It is a one-way ticket, after all! I’m sure that they’ll be just as happy to have us out from underfoot for a while… and out of the spotlight.”
“Suits me,” MacGyver said as he joined his friends. He had finally discarded the borrowed Hawaiian shirt and was now wearing a black t-shirt, both of his forearms wrapped in gauze bandages; he had suffered some nasty cuts from crawling through all that broken glass, and the medic who had taken care of him had figured it would be easier to wrap him than to cover him with dozens of little pink Band-Aids.
Mike resisted another urge to throw her arms around him. ‘Time to play it cool, Mike,' she chided herself, and she offered MacGyver a winning smile and held up one arm, twisting it to display her wristwatch.
Mac spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Hey. I hurried—they were the ones who wanted to talk.” Mac glanced around the dock, which was conspicuously empty of baggage. “Where’s all our stuff? Didn’t Jones find our luggage?”
“Yeah, they found all of our stuff and it is already on the plane,” Jack said, a little too quickly. Mac and Mike exchanged glances. “C’mon! Let’s go! We’re burning daylight!” As if to answer Jack’s impatience, that was the moment the pilot of the sea-plane chose to begin the pre-flight warm-up; both engines coughed and the propellers spun to life, tossing wash high into the humid tropical air. “Next stop: Lisbon, Madrid, and Barbados!” Unable to wait any longer, Jack bounded down the pier and climbed into the plane.
Mike started to follow him, but MacGyver touched her arm to stop her and handed her something.
Mike stared at it. “What a great picture! When was this taken?”
“The day before we went diving… one of the local women runs a photo-service on the pier, for the tourists. She gave it to me… and I thought that you’d like it. I got one for Jack, too.”
“I love it, Mac! Thanks!” She gave into an impulse and kissed him quick on the cheek, then ran down the pier after Jack.
Mac followed her, enjoying a last beautiful view of Martinique before he and his friends traveled on toward future adventures.
~~~fin!
Thanks for joining me in this adventure, and for all your support and comments! More Adventures with MacGyver are on the way!
-Lothithil
 Everyone, sometimes, needs a camel.
Old troubleshooters never die...
They just wait til the last moment and then rescue themselves!
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I 
to your suberb writing skills. 
