I apologize for the delay in posting this part. I had some personal business to attend to before I could write it. For the sensitive nature of the material contained in this chapter, please remember the R rating as usual. Thank you and enjoy!
Programmed Part Five
Rated: R
MacGyver was once again strapped to a bed for his protection, his wrist heavily bandaged, thickly padded with gauze after the deep, bloody gash to his wrist had been sutured. His complexion was pallid and ghostly, his skin looking almost transparent, as if he would fade completely into nonexistence. Pete, Dr. Ladd, and Nikki stood over his motionless form, watching him sadly. Nikki wore a decorative fashion scarf to conceal the still vivid, finger-shaped bruises that marked her neck. Dr. Ladd showed them the crude yet sophisticated tool MacGyver had fashioned to destroy himself, and they examined it closely.
“That certainly looks like a product of MacGyver’s ingenuity,” Pete said, sighing. “I can’t believe the purpose it was used for, though.”
“How did he manage to get it past security?” Nikki asked, reaching out and stroking his cheek. His skin felt clammy and cold to the touch as if he were dead.
Dr. Ladd shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “Twine from craft activities, plastic utensils from the commissary honed and sharpened until they became an effective, dangerous weapon…it appears his mind, despite being tampered with, has remained inventive. Unfortunately, he used his cleverness to cause harm to himself.”
“How could this have happened? I mean, MacGyver is not suicidal,” Pete said.
Dr. Ladd shook his head and stared at him soberly. “I don’t think he had any choice when it came to his actions, Mr. Thornton,” he said.
“You think this was a part of his programming somehow?”
Dr. Ladd nodded. “I think we have to seriously consider it,” he said. “It could be a back up mechanism hard-wired into his brain to harm himself should he not succeed in his mission, which appears to be to kill you both. Whoever did this wanted assured destruction, either of you, or of MacGyver. Of course, we’ll learn more as he regains consciousness and I have the opportunity to speak with him more about this incident.”
As if on cue, MacGyver began to stir, moaning and squirming against the straps that restrained him, his eyes fluttering, straining to open fully.
“I recommend that you both wait outside,” Dr. Ladd said. “Remember, he has been programmed to kill you just by the mere sight of you, and we do not want to risk agitating him.”
Nodding to show he understood, Pete left the room, escorting Nikki, placing his firm, broad, supportive hand on her back. When the door shut behind them, Dr. Ladd returned to his patient, watching as he struggled to awaken, waiting.
***
MacGyver felt something poking and prodding at him, being inserted inside his body, the sensation uncomfortable, unpleasant, and painful. He couldn’t see from the blindfold covering his eyes, but he had a vague inkling of what El Diablo was doing to him, and he had no desire to see it. The movement twisted and thrust, and all he could do was shudder in revulsion and disgust. He couldn’t move, his body broken and entwined in heavy, weighted chains. He couldn’t cry out, the gag silencing him. He lay entombed in the hot, stifling pit of torment, suffering, and misery, completely helpless and unable to defend himself against the assault, fondled and defiled like the many children he was forced to watch as El Diablo performed his perverted acts on them.
“Does that feel good to you, dog?” El Diablo hissed, panting heavily from his exertions, his voice thick and husky, his breath hot and fetid as it stirred the fine hairs in MacGyver’s ears and made his body tingle. “I bet you enjoy it. You’re my slave, my whore, my dog, for all eternity…”
El Diablo’s voice was replaced by several voices, echoing and distant as if they were located at the end of a long, cavernous tunnel. Confused, MacGyver managed to crack open his eyes to slits, seeing several blurry, undefined forms standing over him.
“Dear God! Would you look at this guy? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen someone this busted up in my entire medical career!” One of the voices said.
“Well, that’s why we’re here—to try to mend him to the best of our abilities,” another voice said, this one strong and female, sounding like Dr. Sturm, the surgeon who worked tirelessly to repair his mangled, battered body during those long months of his recovery.
Gradually, the voices began to fade, he heard a hissing sound, and soon he was lost in the blackness and oblivion of anesthesia.
“Now you know what you must do…now you know what you must do…” Opening his eyes to his current reality, MacGyver found himself once again secured to a bed. There was a dull throb present in his wrist. Looking down, he saw the bandage on his wrist and stared at it for a long time, perplexed and frightened.
“No…no, I don’t understand…what…what did I do? What…?” He asked weakly. “No…this can’t be…no…”
“Welcome back, MacGyver,” Dr. Ladd said.
“Doc,” MacGyver said, staring up at his psychiatrist, his eyes lost, innocent, and pleading. “Why am I here again? The bandage…what…what happened? What…what did I do? I feel…sick…drained…”
“Well, you should. You lost a lot of blood and you were near death when a nurse found you.”
“I-I don’t remember…”
Dr. Ladd showed him the tool he had made. “Do you recognize this at all?” He asked.
MacGyver shook his head, staring up at him wildly. “No, no I d-don’t…understand…tell me…what did I do? Why…the bandage…” he looked down at his wrist again.
Dr. Ladd looked at him in sympathy. “You made this, somehow smuggled it back into your cell, and used it as a weapon against yourself,” he said. “You cut a pretty deep gash into your wrist in an attempted suicide.”
MacGyver’s eyes widened. “What? N-no, this c-can’t be…not possible…” he said, twisting against the restraints. “Can’t…don’t…remember…anything…” he licked his lips. “I…I was just reading Nikki’s note…that’s the last thing I…oh my God…” he stared down at his wrist again in horror.
“It’s going to be all right,” Dr. Ladd said, “just settle down and we’ll work on this together to try to figure it out, okay? Now, the staff doctors in the infirmary here don’t believe that you caused any major, permanent damage to yourself, but you did just enough to almost lose your life.”
“How could this have happened? I would never…I must be crazy after all…I…I tried to kill Pete, Nikki, and now myself? No, it just can’t be...” he continued to stare at his wrist, stunned, puzzled, and transfixed.
“Remember, I believe that you have been programmed to do these things, that they are somehow beyond your control. That you seem unaware of performing these actions only provides further evidence for that theory.”
“Well, what do I do? How do I stop myself?” MacGyver asked, staring back up at Dr. Ladd with sorrowful, terrified eyes. “Please…tell me…help me stop…I-I can’t keep doing this…make it stop, please…” he began sobbing quietly. “Tell me how to stop it…”
“I’m still working on it,” Dr. Ladd said. “Right now, I want you to try something for me. You told me in your last session that you thought you heard voices whispering to you in your sleep.”
“Yes, that’s right,” MacGyver said, closing his eyes as if it would help him remember. “I couldn’t hear them too well, but they were there, saying something, something that faintly sounded like the word ‘kill,’ but…but I…I couldn’t understand their presence. I didn’t know what they wanted…”
“Well, here is what I suggest,” Dr. Ladd said. “The next time you hear them, the next time they try to say something to you, I want you to listen to them and what they say carefully. Then, I want you to respond to them, not by acting out on what they tell you to do, but instead I want you to try to converse with them, see what they want and why they’re trying to make you do these things. I want you to try to resist them, if you can, argue with them, anything you can think of. Try to see if you can stop yourself before they force you to act. Try to refuse and overpower them. You can do it. Remember, I’ve seen you overcome your submissiveness and regain your assertiveness after being dominated all that time by your oppressor. El Diablo may not have been present and you were no longer his captive, but his power and influence still ruled you until I showed you how to break the pattern of feeling worthless and abused. You can do the same, here. MacGyver, these voices are tormenting you as much as your torturer did back in that dark time in South America. You have to break their destructive pattern. You have to tell them that you won’t bend to their will any longer, that you are autonomous, that they can no longer control you or exert their power over you. Will you try that for me?”
“How can I do that if I don’t remember anything?” MacGyver asked.
“You will remember when it happens,” Dr. Ladd said. “You may not remember the event afterward, but you will remember and be aware of it as it occurs. You will need to focus, or at least try to, all right? Make an effort to silence them. Remind them who is in control. Will you do that for me? Consider it an experiment, and possibly the key to start breaking them down.”
MacGyver nodded. “All right,” he said. “I’ll try.”
***
Back in Pete’s office, Pete and Nikki considered what Dr. Ladd told them he had suggested to MacGyver.
“Do you think it will work, confronting the voices he hears like that?” Nikki asked.
Pete sighed and shrugged. “I don’t know if we have any other options or alternatives at this point,” he said. “Dr. Ladd tells me the programming is so deeply ingrained in MacGyver’s mind that the process of decoding and de-programming him could take some time. At this point, I don’t think anything would hurt to try.”
Pete’s phone rang, and he answered it. Nikki prepared to leave and close the doors behind him if he wanted his privacy, but Pete stopped her and insisted that she stay with a few nonverbal gestures and waves of his pudgy hand.
“Uh-huh, I see,” he said into the receiver to the person on the other end, his tone grave. “Uh-huh. All right. Well, thank you for informing me.” He hung up and looked at Nikki with bloodshot, tired eyes. “More bad news, I’m afraid,” he said.
“It’s not about MacGyver, is it?” Nikki asked.
“Thankfully, no, not this time,” Pete said. “It’s about Brandon. He was found dead in his cell this morning.”
“What? How?”
“The coroner will perform a thorough autopsy to make sure, but at this point it appears he suffered a serious cardiac arrest.”
Pete and Nikki stared at each other, realizing the implications. Pete’s hand went absently towards his chest as he remembered the intense pain and pressure that crushed him internally as his heart strained.
“It’s just like what happened to you, and to Prime Minister Nucci,” Nikki said. “They will probably find no trace of any foreign substances or foul play. It will appear to be natural, a neat and efficient murder that leaves behind no detectable evidence and therefore makes it impossible to name or apprehend a suspect.”
“But the question remains why? Why kill him?” Pete asked.
“He talked too much to us.”
“But he never provided us with any useful information.”
“Still, he was our only source to that secret underworld, and therefore he was a threat to them that had to be eliminated. He may not have revealed any information to us, but they probably had a fear he might slip up or crack at some point and tell us something sensitive.”
“You’re probably right,” Pete said, sighing. “Even the most clever and cunning of men such as he was are bound to make a mistake at some point and reveal more information than they intended. After all, that was how we managed to catch him in the first place. One small error, and we had him. I’m sure he had to have been somewhat of an embarrassment to their operation.”
Nikki nodded. “Now we’ve lost our chance of ever having any of their members is custody again,” she said. “You can be sure they will be more careful than Brandon in the future. It looks like MacGyver is alone again on this one, since there is little else we can do to help him.”
“Do you think he’ll be able to resist those voices urging him to kill and return to us?” Pete asked.
“All we can do at the moment is hope,” Nikki said.
***
“Now you know what you must do…your mission is not complete. You must escape…” The voices returned, and MacGyver heard them distinctly. Remembering to act on Dr. Ladd’s advice, he tried to engage them in conversation, tried to remain in control.
“Who are you?” He asked. “What do you want with me? Why are you in my head?”
“Now you know what you must do…your mission is not complete. You must escape…” “No, I won’t do that,” MacGyver said. “You’ve caused enough destruction and grief in my life already, and I’m taking a stand. I’m refusing to act on your orders. I’m stronger than you.”
The voice laughed. “Who do you think you are, MacGyver?” It asked. “You can’t resist me. You can’t defy your orders.” “We’ll see about that,” MacGyver said.
His body grew hot and feverish, sweat beading on his forehead as he struggled to quiet the voices. They grew louder and more persistent, almost to a deafening roar, drowning out all sense of reason. His head began to ache and pound until the pain was unbearable.
“No!” He shouted, thrashing around against the restraints. “No!”
His body clenched and tightened as he tried to fight, and then it twitched and began to collapse into uncontrollable convulsions. His sudden and alarming change was visible on the security camera monitoring his room, and an alarm sounded, sending several hospital staff swarming into his room to tend to him. He was barely aware of the straps around his body being removed.
“Now!” The voice whispered. “Do it now!” MacGyver’s convulsions ceased, and with incredible force and strength he swung at the men checking on him, knocking them violently to the ground. He leapt out of bed and began attacking the others, fighting them off effortlessly, exchanging blows, some of them heavy and damaging, one man’s head smacking hard against the cement floor when he fell, knocking him unconscious. He darted out of the room, dashing towards his freedom, unable to ignore the voice, his attempts at talking to it unsuccessful, it now controlling him completely. Dazed, one of the staff managed to press another alarm, this one shriller and more urgent, indicating an escaped patient was loose in the ward. He collapsed after hitting the alarm, also passing out from the intensity of MacGyver’s fierce blows. Security guards rushed into the room where the alarm originated and found the medical staff badly beaten and lying in a crumpled, bloody heap on the floor.
“Oh, my God…” the main security guard for the floor said when he saw the carnage, not believing that one man could be the cause of so much brutality. “We have an escaped patient on floor five,” he said into his radio. “I repeat…we have an escaped patient on floor five. Recommend you approach with caution. The subject is extremely violent and dangerous. There are several injured in isolation room thirteen who need immediate medical assistance. Over.”
The alarms continued to blare, wards were locked down, guards ran down the numerous corridors and checked all areas, but they found nothing. MacGyver was gone.
***
Dr. Ladd was the one to deliver the distressing news to Pete and Nikki over the phone. When the call was finished, Pete looked devastated and shattered.
“MacGyver has escaped,” he said to Nikki, barely waiting until he hung up the phone to tell her. “He somehow managed to overpower several of the staff and some guards. Some of them are severely injured.”
“Oh my God,” Nikki said. “I guess that means he wasn’t able to talk to the voices.”
“No,” Pete said. “They couldn’t find him anywhere. They’ve conducted a thorough search of the facility and have found nothing. Somehow, he was able to slip completely from their grasp, and this is the most highly secure psychiatric institution in the state, reserved only for the most violent and disturbed patients, so they should have been able to handle the situation.”
“The one time MacGyver should have been prevented from escaping,” Nikki said. She stared at Pete. “You know what this means, don’t you?” She asked.
“I think I have an idea,” Pete said.
“We’re still his targets. Now that he’s escaped, you know where he’ll go next.”
To be continued…
"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer."
--Henry David Thoreau
brains+brawn+beauty+personality=MacGyver
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