Unseen Part Five
Rated: PG

As MacGyver regained consciousness, new pain throbbed up his back and the base of his head. Searing pain from jagged bone fragments digging into his nerves indicated that he had further damaged his already broken left arm from his collapse to the floor of the elevator, landing on it heavily and crushing it. He wanted to cry out, but all he could release was a deep, agonized groan, clutching at it with his healthy hand as if somehow that action would help minimize the pain.

“You disappoint me, MacGyver,” a voice said above him.

Looking up, gradually becoming aware of his surroundings, MacGyver found himself lying on the floor of one of the chemistry labs. Carl was standing over him, a cold, menacing glare in his eyes, smiling viciously.

“I don’t know what possessed you to investigate this matter, but you should have left it alone. I was growing fond of our friendship, even if it was a ruse.”

“You…you’re The Unseen,” MacGyver croaked, his voice filled with pain.

Carl smirked but said nothing in response.

“I guess it all makes sense,” MacGyver said. “No one would ever suspect an unassuming security guard. They were looking for scientists. You had access to all the labs, knew all security protocols, and could operate within them to avoid suspicion. The question is, why did you stop?”

Carl shook his head. “That’s where you’re mistaken,” he said. “I didn’t stop. I was merely…taking a break. I knew that I could only do so much before I would attract too much attention. I figured a lull in activity would cause the police to lose interest. The case would fade from memory. That’s when I would have the perfect opportunity to start again. In fact, I was prepared to find new victims before you showed up. You see, I had been working on developing new toxins, much more potent, lethal, and powerful than what I had used before.”

MacGyver thought about the woman. The significance of her appearances suddenly became more apparent to him. He was about to kill again. “You’re a chemist,” he said. “How else could you design something so sophisticated and deadly?”

“I was a chemist, before I was discredited because of an ethical issue, of which they had no proof. After that debacle, I decided the best course of action was to change my identity, which I did successfully through several cleverly designed forgeries. I thought that if I could operate under the guise of a profession not known for having a scientific component to it, I could get much more accomplished.”

“But why? Why murder people?”

“Call it an experiment if you’d like,” Carl said, shrugging. “Also, it’s an incredible feeling to have that much power at your disposal, to know that your creations have the potential to kill so subtly and so quickly.” A homicidal glint lit his eyes. “All my life, I had been unnoticed, ignored, invisible…”

“And killing people was your way to get noticed,” MacGyver said.

“Well, I had to be recognized for my talents somehow. I wasn’t about to allow them to go to waste.”

“You know, most people would use your knowledge to help people,” MacGyver said. “That seems to me to be the more useful outlet for your talents.”

Carl laughed. “I have no interest in helping people,” he said. “I have no use for them, just as I no longer have any use for you.” With a chilling grin, he lit a match, holding it between his fingers and watching the flame for a moment before blowing on it and extinguishing it. “You know, I’m grateful to the hit and run driver, whoever he was. In the condition you’re in, you’re virtually incapacitated. I don’t need to tie you up. You won’t be able to escape. You’re too badly injured.” He lit another match, staring at it, the flame’s reflection dancing in his dark eyes.

“What are you talking about?” MacGyver asked.

Carl blew out the match. “Perhaps it’s time for me to come out of hiding,” he said. “I’ve been patiently waiting all these years, preparing for the perfect opportunity to strike again. Well, maybe it’s time for people to know I’m still out there, that I still exist, that I’m not invisible.”

Lighting another match, he exposed the flame to every surface he could find in the lab, setting it on fire. He looked at MacGyver and grinned sadistically. “It’s dangerous to be in here during a fire,” he said. “There are a lot of volatile, combustible chemicals.”

MacGyver frantically looked around for possible escape scenarios, the acrid smoke already burning his lungs.

“It looks like we won’t need this,” Carl said, removing the lab’s fire extinguisher. “Oh, and I’ve also disabled the room’s sprinkler system, shut off the water to the pipes leading to the sink, and cut the fire hose. So, if you’re thinking you can neutralize the flames, you won’t be able to.”

Red strobe lights flashed, followed by the loud, urgent blare of an alarm. “Attention! Fire in chemistry lab, section seven!” the computerized announcer shouted.

“It looks like you forgot to turn off the fire alarm system,” MacGyver said, coughing as more smoke billowed in the room and filled his lungs.

“I wanted that on,” Carl said. “I want them to come. You see, I’ve barricaded the entrance to this lab with explosives which I will detonate if they try to enter this room and rescue you. So you see, your situation is rather hopeless, I’m afraid. They can’t come in…” he opened the door. “And you can’t come out.” Laughing maniacally, he slammed the heavy doors to the lab behind him, locking them from the outside.

The fire was beginning to spread, flames licking the walls and the ceiling, the extreme heat melting surfaces and materials inside the lab, creating the unmistakable odor of melting plastic and metal, causing toxic plumes of smoke to fill the enclosed space, slowly working to suffocate MacGyver, polluting and searing his lungs. He tried to move, but it was nearly impossible, his broken limbs uncooperative, screaming in protest, the smoke overwhelming him, making him dizzy and faint, fighting the urge to pass out.

Come on, MacGyver. Think. Get up! For God’s sake! Get up! Get up now!

***

From his position outside the underground lab, Pete saw the strobe lights flashing.

“The fire alarm,” he muttered.

Looking down at his watch, he noticed it was still slightly under the amount of time MacGyver had told him to wait before coming after him, but he could tell by the emergency lights that something had gone wrong, and he wasn’t going to wait any longer. He called for police and fire backup on MacGyver’s car phone.

“Hang on, MacGyver, I’m coming,” he said after hanging up.

Getting out of the jeep, he ran towards the entrance, presenting his access card.

“Come on…come on…” he said, shifting his weight impatiently as he waited for the system to recognize his card.

At last the light flashed green on the card reader and he entered, darting down the hallway, searching for the source and origin of the fire alarm.

“Attention! Fire in chemistry lab, section seven! Repeat, fire in section seven!” the announcer once again shouted.

Pete stopped, looking around, trying to remember where section seven of the laboratory was.

“Section seven…chemistry lab…chemistry…” a thought occurred to him, one that he dreaded. MacGyver had found the killer. The killer was a chemist. Chemistry lab…

“Oh no!”

He ran down the stairwell towards that area of the lab once he remembered its location, not caring if he was entering a dangerous situation, concerned only about helping MacGyver. As he got closer to the area, he ran into several Phoenix security personnel, heavily armed, also heading towards the scene.

“What’s going on?” He asked one of them, struggling to catch his breath.

“We just got a report from our men at the scene. It’s Carl,” the guard said in disbelief. “One of our guards. He has set fire to the chemistry lab and barricaded it with a bomb.”

“What?”

“That’s not all. He says he has trapped MacGyver inside.”

“Oh my God,” Pete said, trying not to imagine what unspeakable horrors MacGyver could be going through at that moment, possibly being burned alive, slowly choking to death from the smoke, unable to move, his plaster casts preventing him.

Once they reached the area of the reported blaze, they saw Carl standing in front of the lab’s sealed, fireproof doors, keeping the fire contained inside the lab and preventing it from spreading, holding a remote control detonation device in his hands, grinning.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you, gentlemen,” he said.

“Why are you doing this?” Pete asked. “You’re The Unseen, aren’t you?”

Several of the nearby guards pointing their weapons at Carl exchanged confused glances, unsure what Pete was referring to.

“Yes well, I won’t be unseen any longer,” Carl said. “Consider this my final act, my unmasking if you will. MacGyver got too close. He had to be eliminated. If you attempt to enter that lab and rescue him, I will press this button and reduce this entire facility to rubble.”

“You’re taking quite a risk,” Pete said, trying to remain calm despite the horrific knowledge that MacGyver could be dying on the other side of those doors. “I thought you liked operating in the shadows, anonymously, without any grandiose displays.”

“Those days are over,” Carl said. “As I told MacGyver, I’m tired of hiding. It’s time for people to know who I am. I’m not afraid of dying. I’ll be immortalized through my killings. I’m ready.” His finger pressed slightly harder on the device, ready to activate it. Pete and the other guards flinched in anticipation, hoping the explosion would not occur just yet. Carl laughed, taking delight in their fear, once again controlling others through his power.

“Look, just get MacGyver out of there,” Pete said. “Please…”

Carl laughed again. “Not a chance,” he said. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. As I said, he was getting too close.”

Pete watched the closed doors to the laboratory in dismay, knowing there was little he could do. When the police and fire crews he called arrived, he knew there would be nothing they could do to enter the room either, Carl engaging them in a tense standoff where none of them knew what the outcome would be, except that MacGyver would die.

Come on, Mac…think of something…get out of there…I know you can do it. Please, Mac…

***

Inside the burning laboratory, the sweltering heat intensifying, the temperature rising exponentially, the flames consuming all the available oxygen, slowly depriving MacGyver’s lungs, he crawled along the floor, pushing himself forward with his good arm, coughing and wheezing. He knew the floor was actually one of the safest positions for him to be in during a fire, the smoke less thick closer to the ground, but he knew he had to get up and find a way out before he perished in the flames. Using a nearby stool to support himself, covering his hand with his sleeve to protect his skin from the heat, he used it to pull his body upright, the movement difficult and a strain on his broken limbs, causing him to cry out in pain as it briefly wrenched them out of position. Recovering, struggling to remain conscious, dizziness once again overwhelming him, he gasped and looked around the lab for something he could use to escape. For a brief moment, he thought he saw the woman again, standing near the doorway, smiling at him before she disappeared, turning into more wisps of black, toxic smoke that curled around the doors. He didn’t know how to interpret it other than as a good sign. Either that, or his oxygen starved brain was beginning to fail.

All around him, flames came dangerously close to cabinets labeled “flammable,” “combustible,” and “caution: explosives.” He knew in just a matter of seconds the entire place would explode, bringing the roof and debris down on him, crushing him. Either way, he knew his death was imminent if he did not act, and quickly. He thought about what Carl had said about unstable and explosive chemicals. Glancing at the closed doors to the lab, now mostly obscured by smoke and flame, seemingly unreachable, he knew he had to find a way to force them open. Using his own knowledge of chemistry, he knew that the right combination of chemicals could cause an explosive chemical reaction large enough for him to knock the doors over. If only he could contain them and harness the fire somehow, using it to his own advantage, he knew it just might work.

If only…

***

“Please, don’t do this!” Pete said, knowing his pleas were useless and in vain.

“It’s too late,” Carl said. “MacGyver will die, and soon we will all join him.”

He was about to press the button to the detonator, this time not teasing or taunting the men pointing their weapons at him, showing he was in earnest. Before he could, a powerful explosion from inside the burning lab forced the locked doors open, knocking them off their hinges. One of them toppled over and crashed onto Carl, pushing him to the floor, the weight of it crushing him, killing him instantly. The flames inside leapt out into the hallway, threatening to spread. Arriving just in time, the fire department and police swarmed the area, working to contain the fire, spraying it with foam and water. Amid the chaos, the shouting, and the barked orders, Pete rushed inside the charred, smoldering lab without regard to his own safety, ignoring the disapproving shouts of the firefighters and resisting their restraining grasps.

“Sir, you can’t go in there,” one of the firefighters said.

“You don’t understand! My friend’s in there!” Pete shouted, squirming in his arms, tears in his eyes.

“He’s right! There’s a man in here!” Another firefighter shouted.

They gathered around MacGyver’s unconscious body, sprawled not too far from the busted down doors. Pete was relieved when he saw that he was not seriously burned, his hair not even singed. He was covered in black soot and barely recognizable because of it, but that was about all. It was a miracle considering how hot the interior of the lab still felt, even with the flames extinguished, smoke lingering and rising off the warped, melted surfaces. Some of the firefighters examined him, feeling for his pulse.

“Well, how is he? Is he all right?” Pete asked.

One of the firefighters examining him looked gravely up at him and shook his head.

To be continued…

oh no poor MacGyver will he live another day.

HE must... or dear MacsChick is gonna find herself surrounded by her angry rabid fans

Bwuahahahaahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahaaahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Ahem... Great chapter, MacsChick! The persian kittens are most pleased with it!