Special Forces Agent
Posts: 124
Joined: 27 Apr 2008
Gender: Female
Country: East Coast
SAK owned: Sadly, none :-(
Favorites
Season: season 2
Episode:All of 'em!
Vehicle: Jeep
Jacket: Brown bomber
House: House boat
|
READ FIRST!
Hey y’all! Here’s chapter two, and yes Mac finally has a speaking part. Jack’s here as well. Many, many thanks to MacsChick, Liz1976, and MacBeth for their help, pointers and reviewing the story. Virtual Hugs guys!
Anyway, here’s chapter 2, if you have any questions or comments, feel free to leave them. This part is rated PG-13 for some language (not too bad, but Jack has always had a foul mouth). Oh, I went back to my first and second stories and changed the dates of birth for Mac and Jack to retain canon accuracy, so if the dates seems off that’s why.
Aevum Carmen: Chapter 2, Part One: Encounters…
1971, Vietnam, Johnson Air Base
____________________________________________________________________
In the sweltering heat of the jungle, somewhere near the highest boarder of South Vietnam, 19 year old Private Angus MacGyver was dying.
Of heat.
“God, can it get any hotter?!” Mac swiveled his head to the side, sweat running down his tanned face. He gave a quick glance at the young man sitting next to him.
“Don’t jinx us, Phil, it just might!” He said with a quick laugh, swiping at his forehead with a damp cloth, before burying his hands back into the jeep engine he was tinkering with. It was about mid day, and Mac was just making head way on getting the vehicle back in working order. Mostly, he just wanted to finish so he could get into the shade.
“Naw, man, I’m serious! It’s got to be what? 105 degrees out?” Phil shook his head, leaning back against a crate of supplies.
“More like 115.” He mumbled. “And I don’t see what you’re complainin’ about!” Mac said, slightly miffed. “After all, you are occupying the only shade out here, other than inside the barracks.” Phil just laughed.
“Well, I’m not the one who wreaked the general’s private jeep, am I?” Mac glowered at his ‘friend’ before getting back to work.
“S’not like I meant to.” Mac viscously tightened a bolt. “He really shouldn’t have parked there!”
“Right.” Phil chuckled “The general should have known that you were looking for a place to toss that charge you were ‘practicing’ on, without permission.” Phil huffed a small laugh. “Heh, tweaking is more like it.”
“It was a small one!” Mac protested, but Phil ignored him. “And I wasn’t ‘tweaking’ it, I was practicing!” Phil continued like he hadn’t said anything.
“He should have known that you, being you, would choose to throw it in that direction when it started to countdown. And he also should have known that it would completely destroy the engine to his personal vehicle. He is a general after all, he should know these things.” Phil ended his sarcastic tirade with an equally sarcastic smile and nod. Mac just rolled his eyes. After six months on tour with the guy, he had learned to just ignore most of his blather.
“So, have you heard anything about the new arrivals yet?” He asked, trying to change the subject. Choosing not to acknowledge the sudden shift in subject, Phil just nodded.
“A little, but not much. Only one guy in particular that everyone’s talking about. Some gung-ho, trigger-happy risk taker that no one wants to work with.” Phil said with not a little disgust. He, like MacGyver, had an aversion to guns, which was why they both chose to be on the Bomb disarmament team. Only thing was, Mac reluctantly accepted a soldiers use of his weapon while Phil hated most of them for it.
“You don’t sound very happy that this guy was transferred here.” Mac said, taking a quick look at Phil. The shorter man pulled a face.
“Not really. I even heard that he killed one of his own squad on the last detail they pulled. I mean, do we really need someone like that here? It’s not like we don’t have enough brainless soldiers who think the only way to solve something is with the business end of an automatic.” Mac sighed, shoulders heaving. Phil always seemed to believe the worst in people, even what was heard in far-fetched rumors.
“Phil, c’mon, do you have to be like that?” Phil glowered at MacGyver, crossing his arms petulantly.
“What, you don’t agree with me?” Mac shook his head.
“Only in that I disagree with their use of guns. I know how to get things done without them, and you know there are better ways, too; but just because it’s a soldiers job doesn’t mean that you should hate them. Disagree, yes. Hate? Never. I have a lot of respect for the soldiers out here, and you should too.” Mac said, leveling a heavy gaze at Phil. Phil just rolled his eyes.
____________________________________________________________________
Airman Jack O’Neill sighed, staring up at the sky with a look of longing. This is not how he pictured his service in the Air Force to be; stuck on the ground. Somewhere in the distance a fighter zoomed by, almost mocking him with the sound of its powerful engines. Jack sighed again before looking at the base around him. Blinking the sun spot from his eyes, he took in his new ‘home’ for the next six months.
“So, Jackie boy, have ya settled in yet.” Oh, god, not this idiot again. Jack turned with a slight grimace, eyeing the approaching airman with distaste. The man was a definite pain in his ass. Always looking at him like he wanted to start something; and Jack didn’t want any more trouble. He was in enough as it was. Airman Paul Donahugh slung his arm around Jacks shoulders, a cigarette clenched in his teeth. Jack raised an eyebrow at the arm around his neck, the annoyance clear in his eyes.
“Donahugh; what can I do for you?” He said stiffly, gripping Donahugh’s wrist and lifting the man’s arm from his shoulder.
“Aw, I don’t need nothin’, Jackie boy. I was just wonderin’ how you were doin’.” Donahugh looked around, and then stared at Jack intensely. “Ya shot anyone yet?” He said, a malicious glean in his eyes. Jack felt a red hot rage bubble up inside. Before he knew it, his right fist had connected with Donahugh’s nose. The man yelped in pain, falling backwards onto his rear.
“The hell, man!?” He shouted, his voice muffled by his hands cupped over his nose.
“You slimy little *woof*.” Jack hissed, staring down at him, his brown eyes nearly black with rage. “I oughta kick your ass for that!”
“Airmen!” A sharp voice pierced the air. Jack whirled around and immediately stood at attention. The approaching Colonel took everything in with sharp eyes. “What is going on here?” Donahugh stood slowly, one hand still over his nose, blood leaking between his fingers.
“Nothing, sir.” Jack said, face blank. The Colonel shifted his gaze, from one man to the other. Donahugh nodded slowly in agreement.
“It was nothing, sir. An accident, sir.” He stated. The Colonel frowned, before he nodded.
“Very well. Go get yourself checked out, Airman. Dismissed.” Both young men started to walk away, when the Colonel called out. “Not you, O’Neill.” Jack froze midway through a step, closing his eyes and grimacing. Then he straightened his shoulders and turned back, face once again blank.
“Yes, sir?” The colonel stared at him for a minute, arms clasped behind his back, before opening his mouth to speak.
“I’ve heard about you, Airman.” He said. Jack closed his eyes briefly in resignation. Here it comes… He thought; the blame, the condemnation, the ‘you could have done better, Airman’ speech. At least he preferred that to the pity. The pity was worse than anything. “I know it’s probably not what you want to hear, but…” The older man sighed and Jack finally looked back at him. “I know what you’re going through, son. I’ve been there.” He said kindly.
“Sir?” Jack was confused. Frowning, he looked, really looked at the colonels face. It was then that he noticed something about the man’s eyes. It was older, better hidden then his own, dulled through the passage of time, but no less powerful. The pain, the guilt, the never ending what ifs…. It was all the same and Jack blinked, for the first time feeling relief that someone understood, wouldn’t condemn him or lecture him. He just knew. Jack smiled. It wasn’t big or a happy smile, just a small one; one that showed his relief and gratitude for the brief respite from everyone else and their false understanding. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He said softly, his voice just barely above a whisper.
“Yes, well… carry on, Airman.” Jack turned, making it a few steps before his superior called out to him. “O’Neill!” Jack turned,
“Yes, sir?”
“Next time, just walk away.” The colonel said with a smile. “That way, you won’t land in the brig.” Jack nodded before turning on his heal and heading towards the barracks.
____________________________________________________________________
One week later…
MacGyver was having an extremely weird week. People he’d never met before kept looking at him. And it wasn’t the kind of look where a person just has a fleeting moment of wondering who you are. These were deep, meaningful, hate-filled glares.
He just didn’t understand it. It was starting to unnerve him.
And it was affecting his work.
More than once, his commanding officer had called him on a major mistake in his disarmament of practice bombs. Mistakes that if they had happened in the field could have possibly killed a lot of people.
He needed to clear his head.
Mac sighed as he approached the barracks, hoping that everyone was at lunch. He needed some time alone.
____________________________________________________________________
Jack was having one hell of a bad day.
First, he awoke to some Airman that was drunk off his ass, coming in from a three day pass. Not only had the moron tripped over the trunk at the end of Jack’s bunk, but then he decided to empty the entire contents of his stomach…. on Jack’s boots.
Then, in the showers, someone thought it would be cute to steal his clothes. Jack had to wrap a curtain around himself, toga style, just to get another set of fatigues.
He was thankful nothing happened at breakfast.
Now, though, he wished it had carried on through lunch.
Some lieutenant had ‘accidentally’ bumped into him in the mess. That in itself wasn’t much, but when his tray went flying and landed on the base commander’s lap… that was a big deal. The group that conspired to trip him had fled the scene, laughing hysterically, leaving Jack alone to face the wrath of the General.
Jack still wasn’t sure what he said to the commander that got his butt off the hook.
Appetite gone, but a headache going full force, Jack headed to the barracks. Maybe some alone time will help, Jack thought. He pushed the door open, and was about to step in when he heard a low rumbling behind him. It was getting louder.
Jack turned his head and stared up into the sky, chocolate eyes widening in horror as he recognized enemy bombers. Just then the sirens signaling an attack started up and all thoughts of relaxing quietly vanished as he rushed to the nearest armory as the voice of some soldier rose over the din through a bull horn.
“INCOMING!”
____________________________________________________________________
Mac looked up from the broken radio he had disassembled in front of him as the door opened. No one walked in, but he frowned when the action allowed the deep rumbling sound into the room. His eyes widened when the raid alarm sounded. He abandoned the scattered pieces of machinery and had just reached the door when the loud voice of a soldier hollering over a bull horn rang out.
"INCOMING!"
To be continued…
 "If toast always lands butter-side down, and cats always land on their feet, what happens if you strap toast on the back of a cat and drop it?" - Steven Wright.
|
Ha! That's funny. The site edited my language usage!
Overall, it looks fantastic! I do like the change to the bold for the "Incoming" warning--very effective in setting the urgent mood and tone. I can't wait for your next part (uh, you are going to let me beta read that as well, right)? 
I'm hoping so. I do enjoy helping my fellow authors. 
