Aptitude

by Artemis9

All you need to know is that it's a MacGyver / Diagnosis Murder crossover. Oh, and those who didn't understand the MacGyver allusion in "Into the Woods" might find some answers here... :o) -- thrilling. ;o)

* Disclaimer: The characters taken from DM belong to CBS and Viacom, respectively to their inventors. The same goes for MacGyver and all characters taken from this show. I'm not making any money with this story, it's purely written for entertainment.

* Feedback: appreciated.

* The time paradox: don't get confused - all you need to know that it's the late 80's Mac placed in a late 90's DM scenery. The rest will just fit in - I hope *g*.



-- Aptitude --

„Steve, it's a catastrophe!"

Steve looked up from his hamburger and fries and saw Jesse dashing out of the kitchen of BBQ Bob's and towards him. He rose from his chair, and when Jesse breathlessly stopped in front of him, he grabbed him by his upper arms before he could continue.

"Hey Jess", he said and gave him a forced smile. "Whatever it is, could we please discuss it somewhere else?" If Jesse was so despaired about something that had obviously happened in the kitchen, this "something" should better not be heard by their guests.

Steve looked at his lunch regretfully and dragged Jesse into a quiet corner.

"Now tell me *slowly* what's up", he said.

"The stove doesn't work", Jesse gasped.

"Jesse, this is a problem, not a catastrophe. Maybe we'll have to serve sandwiches and ice-cream for dinner today, but the stove should be repaired by tomorrow."

"Have you forgotten about the assembly of lawyers tonight? 28 people, and they expect spare-ribs, steaks and whatever. They'll sue us, we're ruined." With a despaired look on his face, Jesse dropped on a chair.

"Maybe I can help you", a man who was sitting at the counter remarked. He was in his late 30s, wearing a red T-Shirt, baggy brown trousers and sneakers; his dark blond hair looked like it hadn't been combed for days. He sipped at his Virgin Mary and then placed the glass back on the counter. "I accidentally heard what you were talking about, and actually I had thought about having lunch here. So before you wait for some workman who presents you a 100-Dollar bill for fixing a few screws, perhaps you could allow me to have a look."

Jesse glanced at him suspiciously. "Do you know how to fix that?"

"Well, until now, I don't know what's broken. But most things can be repaired with a little bit of invention."

Steve didn't have to think about this for long. "Well, if you can fix the stove, your lunch is on the house, Mr. - "

"MacGyver. And it looks like you've just made me an offer I can't refuse." He smiled. "Well then, let's see what we can do."

He stood up, chewing on the celery stick he had taken out of his glass, and Jesse and Steve guided him into the kitchen.

* * *

"We just don't get a flame which is big enough to cook on", Jesse reported. "It's like the gas main was blocked."

"No, that's improbable. You either have a leak here, or one of the internal pipes is blocked. Wait a minute." MacGyver fumbled on the stove and then started to pull it away from the wall.

"Wait, I'll help you", Steve said. Together they dragged the stove about one foot so that MacGyver could have a look at the back. Bending over the hotplates, he drew a pocketknife out of his right pocket and started to loosen the screws which held the rear panel in place.

When he had removed it, he started to examine the inside of the stove. "Is the gas switched off now?" he asked.

Jesse nodded. "Yes."

"Okay." They heard metallic clanking, and then MacGyver lifted his head.

"Do you have a piece of wire or something similar?"

"Wire?" Jesse scratched his head. "No, I don't think so."

"Never mind, I think this will do." MacGyver stood up and went over to a shelf where a box with toothpicks stood. The box in his hand, he walked back to the stove. After a few seconds of tinkering at the pipes, his head appeared again. "Too short", he mumbled and looked around. "May I borrow this?" he then said and took the ball pen Jesse had in the pocket of his shirt. He connected two of the toothpicks with the spring from the ball pen. Again, Steve and Jesse heard clatter, and then MacGyver lifted the rear panel up and screwed it to the back of the stove again.

"Well then, this should be it", he said. "Let's put it back to the wall."

He and Steve pushed the stove back into its original position, and Jesse switched the gas on.

"Hey, it works", he said happily.

Steve turned to MacGyver. "You helped us a lot, thanks", he said. "Now let us return your kindness. Do you want to join us for lunch?"

"Sure, thanks for the invitation."

* * *

Mark and Amanda entered the "BBQ Bob's", both tired from their shifts and hungry enough to empty the restaurant's cold storage room.

"Hello Steve", Mark greeted his son.

"Hi Dad." Steve gestured them to come over and sit down, and Jesse went to get an additional chair. "Dad, Amanda, this is Mr. MacGyver. The stove didn't work, and he somehow managed to fix it with some toothpicks and a ball pen. At the moment, we are trying to find out what he does for a living when he's not saving restaurant owners' lives."

MacGyver smiled amusedly. "You exaggerate. It was a rather simple problem, so why try to find complicated solutions? As for my job, well, I'm kind of a troubleshooter. I work for a foundation, and whenever they need somebody for a special task, they call me."

"And what kind of tasks are you talking about?" Jesse asked.

"This and that. It's a very irregular life, but I wouldn't want to change it." He took another sip from the Ginger Ale he had ordered with a vegetarian lasagne.

Steve frowned. He knew he shouldn't mistrust a man who had just helped them out and apparently preferred to keep his private life private, but his instinct told him that there was more about this man than could be realized at first sight. While the others continued their conversation, he scrutinized their new acquaintance.

The man somehow looked like he hadn't realized that the new millennium had already begun. In fact, he didn't even seem to have left the eighties behind. Steve couldn't put his finger on it, it was everything: his hair, his white sneakers, the whole appearance seemed to belong into a different era. But that wasn't what had made the alarm bell in Steve's mind ring: MacGyver's dark brown eyes glistened with a knowledge an average workman shouldn't have. It was an experience gained in a life that contained much more than only doing "this and that".

Steve considered checking MacGyver's file, but then decided to leave him alone. In a few minutes, he would go his own way, and it wouldn't be of use investigating into a man whose path had crossed his for only an hour or so. Besides that, he wasn't sure if he might incur the displeasure of some federal agency with his efforts.

Steve sighed soundlessly and focused his attention back on the talk.

"…And when the contents of his intestines started to move, I just stuffed everything in a box and put a lid on it", Amanda finished the vivid narration of her latest autopsy.

Jesse wrinkled his nose. "I hope you clearly marked that box before you put it in the fridge", he said.

Amanda didn't even answer to that but turned to MacGyver. "So, what leads you here?" she asked.

"Actually, I'm on my holidays", MacGyver replied. "I would have gone fishing, but I spent the past months in a pretty rough climate, and I really needed some dry heat." He smiled. "Five days just relaxing in the sun, and nobody's going to drag me away from my little spot on the beach."

In this moment, a man with greyish hair who was sitting at the table next to theirs stood up in a fierce movement. Uttering a low moan, he grabbed his own throat like he wanted to choke himself, but soon let loose and scratched his face instead.

Before one of the physicians could react, the man stumbled away from his table, took two steps, and then dropped to the ground, now again clutching his throat.

All at once, Mark, Jesse and Amanda rose from their chairs and rushed over to the lying body.

"Pulse?" Mark asked.

Jesse pressed his fingertips against the clammy skin. "Weak and fast", he replied.

Amanda leaned over the man and looked into his open yet glassy eyes. "Can you hear me? Can you tell me what's wrong?" She glanced at Mark. "He's not responsive."

MacGyver kneeled down beside them. "Is he choking?"

"Not from anything which is stuck in his throat", Mark answered. "I checked his respiratory tract, it isn't blocked. It almost looks like an asthma attack."

"He stopped breathing", Jesse called. "We have to resuscitate him!" He bent the man's head back.

"I'm losing his pulse", Amanda said nervously. "I'll start CPR."

While Jesse and Amanda were trying to save the man's life, Mark turned to Steve and MacGyver. "Has one of you called an ambulance?"

Steve nodded, the cell phone still in his hand.

"They'd better hurry", Jesse said with a tense voice. "We're losing him!"

"Come on, don't give up", Mark whispered, not sure if he meant his two friends or the man on the floor.

Jesse and Amanda breathlessly worked until the ambulance arrived and the paramedics took over. They intubated the man and tried to revive him with electroshock, but they couldn't help him.

When they carried his body into the ambulance car, Mark scratched his head. "Amanda, would you do an autopsy on him?"

Amanda nodded. "This was odd, I'd also like to find out what was going on."

"What do you mean?" MacGyver, shocked from what had just happened, wasn't sure what they were talking about.

"Don't tell me this man was murdered", Steve groaned, but when he saw the well-known look in his father's eyes, he realized that there was a case in store for him.

"I'm not sure, but it is possible", Mark replied. "The symptoms he showed didn't resemble any natural disease or even accident such as choking from a bit of food."

"Poison?" Steve was sceptical.

Amanda shrugged. "We'll know more after the autopsy. Listen", she sighed, "I'll skip lunch and do it right away so that we know for sure. It'll take a while, I'll page you when I'm done."

"Alright." Mark smiled at her. "Take it easy, nobody is hurrying you, okay?"

Amanda returned his smile. "Don't worry, you know that I can't just sit here when I have work to do."

"Oh, wait a minute." Jesse hurried into the kitchen and returned with a small package. "Here, a few sandwiches. You shouldn't go without lunch."

Amanda raised an eyebrow but did without an ironic comment. "Thanks", she said instead. Then she turned around. "Mr. MacGyver, I'm sorry that your lunch was spoiled like this. I hope that the rest of your holidays will be more pleasant." She shook hands with him and left the restaurant.

MacGyver ran his hand through his hair. "Listen, I don't want to intrude, but -"

"- you can't just lie on the beach unless you know what happened here", Mark finished the sentence for him. He smiled. "I wouldn't feel different. Amanda will need a few hours to finish the autopsy, so you will have to wait somewhere. Do you already have a hotel room, or do you have a cell phone so that we can reach you?"

"Oh no, I live in L.A. - I travel so much that I rather spend my holidays at home. Wait, I'll give you the number." He started rummaging in his pockets and brought a considerable number of items to light: a worn Swiss army knife, a few coins, a small ball of cord, grey duct tape, two safety pins - and the stub of a soft pencil he had been looking for. "Ah, here it is."

While he started to scribble his phone number on a napkin, Jesse gazed at the heap of things which were lying on the table. "What do you need all this for?"

MacGyver grinned at him. "You never know when you have to repair a stove somewhere."

"I think I want one, too", Jesse replied and pointed at the army knife.

"Here's the number", MacGyver said and handed the napkin to Mark. "Thanks for doing this. And thank you also for the great lunch", he turned to Steve and Jesse. "I think I'll have to come back and try some other dishes."

"You'll be welcome at any time", Steve answered.

"Okay, thanks. Goodbye!" MacGyver waved them goodbye and left the restaurant.

"I'm glad that the Bob's is so empty at this time of the day", Steve sighed. Why can't these things happen on the street or somewhere else? People must start to think it's our food that's so dangerous." Thoughtfully he looked through the window. Outside, an old Jeep's engine coughed a few times before it started, and behind the steering wheel, MacGyver glanced over his shoulder before he pulled the car onto the street and drove away. So much for crossing paths - it looked like they would be walking on the same road for a while.

Mark folded the napkin and put it into his pocket. "What's wrong, son?" he asked Steve.

"Nothing, I just -" He hesitated. "Never mind, I just can't make head or tail of this guy."

"Are you going to investigate on him?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe I'll ask some people a few questions. But right now, we have bigger problems than a strange feeling. We might have witnessed a murder, and I'd like to know what happened here and why. Dad, I'm going to the station. As soon as Amanda has identified our corpse, please call me so that I can check on him. Do you already have an idea what might have killed him?"

Mark shook his head. "Not really. As I said, I don't believe it was a natural death, and at first sight I would say that it looked like he was poisoned, but the symptoms weren't specific for any poison I know. Or to be more precise, they matched several toxic substances, it would be pure guessing trying to say what it was."

"Okay, let's see what Amanda comes up with. Bye Dad!" He nodded towards Jesse and set off for the police station.

"Bye Steve", Jesse called after him. "What's his problem with MacGyver?" he then asked Mark. "I liked him. He didn't look like a criminal."

"I don't think he believes that he's a criminal", Mark reassured him. "How can I explain that?" He thought about it for a few seconds. "Tell me: What's your impression of this MacGyver?"

"Well, he didn't tell much about himself. He's a walking tool kit, and it seemed like he's prepared to fix about everything. When this man had his… - attack, he was shocked, but not more than anyone of us. Either he didn't show it, or he has some kind of professional distance, just like a doctor or policeman. He said he worked for a foundation, doing the jobs they give him." Thoughtfully, he scratched his chin. "Hey, this sounds like my father."

Mark nodded, waiting for Jesse to draw a conclusion.

Finally, Jesse lifted his head and gazed at Mark. "Oh wait", he said, waving his hands. "Do you want to tell me he's a secret agent?"

"This would be jumping to conclusions. If he was, he would probably have told us that he worked as a salesman or something similarly inconspicuous. Besides, there was something missing which would have made him a good agent, or let's rather say, a successful agent. I don't know how to put it; he seemed experienced but not cold-blooded. Do you get the idea?"

"Whoa." Jesse had filled a cup with coffee and took a sip. "I hope so. But if he's not an agent, what do you think he does for a living?"

"Perhaps he is a retired agent, but don't ask me what he's doing right now. However, he's an interesting person, and perhaps he will even be able to help us with our new case. I'm afraid that this might spoil his holidays though", he smiled.

"Not to mention my day off", Jesse moaned.

* * *

It was not even 4 pm when first Mark's and then Jesse's pager went off. It was Amanda telling them to come to the hospital.

Mark pulled the napkin out of his pocket and called the number MacGyver had noted down.

"Mr. MacGyver? This is Dr. Sloan. Yes, from the restaurant. Dr. Bentley has finished the autopsy. She hasn't told us about the results yet, but perhaps you want to come to the hospital. It's the Community General, do you think you will find it? Alright. We will meet you at the reception desk in, let's say, 30 minutes? Okay, goodbye."

"I will join you later", Jesse said. "I have to prepare a few things for the lawyers' meeting tonight, and our small staff here won't be able to organize everything on their own."

"Okay, see you in the pathology."

* * *

They met MacGyver at the reception desk and then went down to the pathology lab. Amanda was waiting for them, filling out the autopsy report.

"What do you have?" Steve asked.

"He was definitely murdered. I found traces of Mentoxedrine in his blood, a poison that causes symptoms similar to those of an asthma attack. It leads to death within half an hour."

"So this means it needn't have been given to him in the BBQ Bob's", Steve concluded. "But how was he poisoned? It must have been in some drink, because he wouldn't have gone to a restaurant half an hour after his last meal."

"That's what puzzles me, too", Amanda replied. "In his stomach, I found hardly digested spare ribs, fries and salad - his lunch in the Bob's, I'd say. But there was no trace of the Mentoxedrine, it must have entered the body in a different way. It can be absorbed through the mucous membranes, this means, for example through the mouth or nose. But as the window for the reaction time is rather big, it has probably been completely absorbed - it will be difficult to find out in which way it was given to him."

"Steve, have you found out anything about the victim?" Mark asked.

Steve waved a file he was holding in his hand. "Yes, and it's very interesting."

Before he could continue, Jesse burst into the room. "Sorry", he gasped, "don't start without me. I drove as fast as I could -", Steve gave him a sharp look, "always observing the speed limit, of course", he added hastily. "So, what do we have?"

"*I*", Amanda emphasized, "found Mentoxedrine in his blood, a poison which caused his death. It wasn't in his food, and we haven't found out yet how else it got into his body."

"So we do have a case", Jesse stated.

"And I have a feeling it's not only *our* case", Steve added.

Mark lifted an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Steve opened the file and started to read aloud: "Mark Keller, born on January 5, 1954, in Derville, Pennsylvania. Deceased May 23, 1989."

"What?" , everybody in the room voiced their surprise.

"For someone who died more than ten years ago, he looks pretty good to me", Jesse said, glancing at the body.

"Until a few hours ago, he was very alive. In fact, he was in excellent health - something I wouldn't say about his victims."

"Victims?" This question came from Jesse, the others just gazed at Steve waiting for an explanation.

"Mr. MacGyver, I believe you have heard about an organization called Homicide International Trust?" Steve's face showed that this was rather a rhetorical question.

MacGyver grabbed a chair that stood beside the door and sat down. "Yes, I have made some not very pleasant experiences with HIT and a few of their members. You've done some thorough investigation, huh?"

"That's my job", Steve said without a smile. "However, Mark Keller belonged to this organization since 1989. He worked as a killer, murdering tycoons, politicians and simply everybody who stood in their way." He turned towards MacGyver. "Do you have any idea who might have a reason to kill him?"

"Oh come on", MacGyver drawled. "Are you suspecting me? I didn't even know him!"

"Luckily, my research didn't yield any contrary results. However, you have been in contact with this organization, especially with one of their agents."

"Murdoc." MacGyver's face darkened. Grimly, he looked at Steve. "All this information is supposed to be confidential."

"And it still is", Steve replied. "When I stumbled on the alleged date of Keller's death, I asked unofficial sources, who informed me about HIT. When I started investigating on you, I soon came to contact the Phoenix Foundation for Research, where I talked to a certain Peter Thornton."

"You talked to Pete?"

"Yes. As you said, the information about HIT is strictly confidential, so I didn't mention them in the beginning, but it soon turned out that he knows about them. He also voiced his concern that they might be after you."

"No." MacGyver firmly shook his head. "Even if Keller was supposed to kill me, why is he dead now? This was either an act of revenge, or some internal struggle. Either way, it was pure chance that I was around. What I told you about my holidays is true."

Amanda cleared her throat. "Hello? Could one of you enlighten us of what's going on here? I admit I didn't understand much of what you were talking about."

"Mr. MacGyver has a very turbulent past, but his experiences with HIT are probably the only events which are relevant for our case." He looked at MacGyver again. "Even if you're not involved in this, you might still be able to help us with your knowledge."

"Investigating on a murder which possibly involves two HIT agents might not only be futile but also very dangerous."

"Do you suggest we let the killer get away with what he has done?"

"I suggest we should be careful and not drag more people into this case than necessary", MacGyver replied with a glance at Mark, Jesse and Amanda.

Mark smiled. "I'm the medical consultant to the LAPD, and Ms. Bentley is the coroner. You see, nobody drags us into any case."

MacGyver looked at Jesse but didn't ask. "I just want you to know that these people are dangerous. Their killers are the best in the world, those who 'apply' for a job and fail - die. Those who make it are unfeeling killing machines, they don't hesitate a second when it comes to killing somebody."

"Thank you for the warning, Mr. MacGyver, but even if we wanted to keep away from this investigation, it would already be too late", Steve answered. "If HIT are so well organized, they know now that I did research on them."

"Apparently, we will work together for a while", MacGyver said resignedly, "so please call me MacGyver, or simply Mac, that's much shorter."

"I'm Jesse", Jesse first reacted. "But Mac's certainly not your first name." He gave him an asking look.

"You don't want to know it", Mac grinned.

* * *

In the next morning, they gathered in the Bob's to discuss what to do next.

"Amanda, have you found out anything more?", Mark asked.

Amanda shook her head. "No, but I'm working on it."

Mark took a sip from his coffee. "So where can we start? MacGyver, do you have an idea which member of HIT would use this kind of poison?"

"I don't know. Most of the agents are very flexible in the choice of their weapons. Beside that, I don't know everyone of them personally, you know."

"What about this Murdoc you mentioned?"

"Not his style." MacGyver crossed his fingers. "He likes to see his victims die, and he would have thought of something more… - creative than a simple poison."

"Wait a minute", Steve interrupted him. "According to my files, this Murdoc is dead."

MacGyver uttered a short laugh. "Yeah, just like Keller."

"No, I mean he's really dead. Mr. Thornton told me that he was killed when you two last met."

"Do you know how often we thought he was dead? Pete should know better. Murdoc has a tendency to reappear when we don't expect it, and each time I meet him, he's more insane than before. But as I told you, this murder wasn't his style. He would have been there to watch the man die, and he would probably even have taken pictures."

"Pictures?" Amanda froze. "Do you mean he would actually have brought a camera? That's sick!"

Mac shrugged. "That's Murdoc's way, I told you."

Steve drew a large black and white photograph out of the file he had brought with him and handed it to his father. "Just in case Murdoc *does* have to do with this case, here's a picture of him."

Mark regarded the photograph. It showed the terribly scarred face of a man who was slightly older than MacGyver. His eyes were those of a lunatic, but they sparkled with evil cleverness. This man was dangerous, no doubt. Madness combined with intelligence was a highly explosive mixture, and it looked like Murdoc had blown up more than once.

"At least it shouldn't be a problem to recognize him", Mark remarked and passed the picture over to Jesse and Amanda.

"I already thought you might come to this conclusion", MacGyver replied and took a picture out of his pocket. The edges were scorched, but easily discernible in the centre there was a woman wearing sunglasses and a hat. "Would you recognize her as well?" he asked and handed the photo to Mark.

Mark eyed the picture and then looked at MacGyver. "Who's that?" he asked.

"Murdoc."

"No way!" Jesse grabbed the picture and stared at the woman. "I mean, how -"

"He's a master of disguise", Mac explained. "He could sit next to you in this restaurant, and you wouldn't recognize him."

"But you would?" Steve wanted to know.

"Probably. But even I wouldn't take bets. So if he is involved in this - which I don't believe -, we will all have to be extremely cautious. I'd especially suggest we don't discuss topics like this publicly. Could we meet somewhere else next time?"

Mark smiled. "The beach is wonderful at this time of the day."

* * *

Jesse's shift started at 11 am, so he drove to the hospital while the others left for the beach house to compile all the information they had about the case.

Although he was a bit concerned, he didn't worry too much about Murdoc or HIT. After all, he didn't have much to do with the investigation, and that the murder had happened in the restaurant had probably been pure chance, as MacGyver had said.

He thought about the case for a while, but his duties in the Emergency Room didn't allow any distraction so that he concentrated on his job.

Shortly after noon, a young woman was brought into a treatment room. She had a cut across her belly and a bump on her forehead which already turned purple.

"Hello Miss Taylor", Jesse greeted her. "I'm Dr. Travis. How did that happen?" He started to examine the cut which was long but not very deep.

The woman smiled. "My mother always told me not to run with scissors. I should have kept to her advice, I guess. It was a knife, though, and I didn't really run to the phone. However, the dog was in the way, and I only managed not to stab the knife into my chest." She winced when Jesse pressed some gauze on the cut to stop the bleeding.

"I'm sorry", he said. "I will disinfect and then tape it, it doesn't have to be sewed." He took a bottle of antiseptic from a sideboard, and while he was working, he continued: "What were you doing when the phone rang? Lunch?"

"Yes, I was cutting vegetables for a stew."

"Sounds good", Jesse smiled.

"I make the best stew in California, Doc. But now I'll have to eat it for dinner instead of lunch." She paused and looked at Jesse. "Do you want to join me?"

This came so suddenly that Jesse needed a few seconds to realize that she was making a date with him. He eyed her shyly. She was a natural beauty, with dark blond hair, brown eyes and a cute little nose. She was smaller than Jesse, which didn't happen to him very often, and very slim. Her smile was wide and honest and seemed to light up the room. Surprised, Jesse noticed that he was about to fall for this woman. He cleared his throat.

"Uhm, do you always invite your attending physician for dinner?" he asked.

She cast down her eyes. "Usually not", she answered. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to -"

"Yes."

"What?" She gave him an asking look.

"I would really like to join you for dinner, if the offer still stands."

"Yes - yes, of course", she said quickly. "8 pm?"

"I'm afraid I won't get away here before 9, but when my shift is over, I'm all yours."

"Oh, that's fine with me. Great. I -", she giggled. "I don't usually do this, please don't think I'm this kind of girl…"

Jesse put the last band-aid on her belly. "I don't usually accept invitations from my patients as well", he said. "But it can't hurt giving it a try." He smiled. "Well then, this will do. Do you need something against the pain?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks. Wait a minute", she searched her pockets, "here's my address." She handed him a small card. "It's not far from the hospital."

"Okay, thanks. I think I can be there at half past nine. See you then, -" He hesitated. He wasn't sure if he should call her "Ms. Taylor" now that they had a date.

"Sarah", she helped him out.

"Sarah", he repeated dreamily. "I'm Jesse."

"Jesse, a nice name. I better go now - you can't let your other patients wait because of me."

"Yes, you're right. Bye!" He waved after her as she left the room, and when she was out of sight, he sighed.

Wow, what a day.

* * *

At the beach house, Amanda's pager beeped, and she called the hospital.

"Yes, thanks." She had noted a few things down and now hung up. "Okay", she turned to Mark and the others. "This was Kelly from the lab. They found something which might be interesting. The poison was in Keller's contacts. The killer must have prepared the cleansing fluid, as traces of the Mentoxedrine were on both lenses. But there was more - the contacts were contaminated with a rare kind of bacteria. It's called Luripida Flagellata, and it lives on a plant called Echitrea Herfortensis, or Morning Sun as it is called because of its flower's colour and shape."

"Does this help us with our investigation?", Steve asked in doubt.

"Perhaps. This plant only grows in South East Asia, and these bacteria have to all of my knowledge never made the leap to another continent. It looks like the bacteria were only in his eyes, so they must have been brought there with the poison."

"Which means that the murderer must have been in South East Asia recently", MacGyver concluded.

„Okay", Steve said. "I will check if Keller has travelled abroad in the past few weeks, just to make sure he really didn't have any contact with this plant."

* * *

Nervously, Jesse fumbled on his tie and then rang the doorbell.

Sarah opened, greeting him with a wide smile. "Jesse! I'm so happy you could come!"

"So am I", he answered. "I brought you something", he said and offered her the bunch of flowers he had hidden behind his back. "I hope you like tulips, I couldn't resist when I saw them."

Sarah took the flowers and gently hugged Jesse. "Thank you! What a wonderful scent, so fresh! Come on in, please." She stepped aside and let him enter the apartment.

Sarah told him to sit down while she went to put the flowers in a vase. Jesse looked around. The apartment was bright and friendly, but there were hardly any personal items. There were only a few neutral pictures of landscapes on the wall, and one photograph of Sarah that was placed on a chest in the corner.

"Where's your dog?" he asked when she returned into the living room.

"My… -? Oh no, that wasn't my dog. I was looking after him for a neighbour, an old lady who was in hospital for two days. She returned earlier tonight, so I gave him back to her. She needs him, and I didn't want to risk another accident."

Jesse smiled and looked at her. She was wearing black trousers and a dark green blouse, but no jewellery except from a thin silver necklace with a dolphin pendant. "You look great", he said with admiration.

"Thank you", she replied. "So do you."

"I couldn't even dress properly", Jesse said. "I'm coming directly from the hospital."

"It's perfectly right, don't worry. Well then, are you hungry?"

"Like a wolf."

"I'm glad to hear that, I have a tendency to cook for a whole family. Wait a minute, I'll be right back."

"Can I help you somehow?"

"No, just stay where you are", Sarah called, already on her way to the kitchen. Seconds later, she returned, carrying a large bowl filled with steaming hot stew. She placed it on the table that stood a few feet from the couch on which Jesse sat. She waved him to come over, and he followed her invitation.

* * *

When they had finished their late dinner, Sarah took the dishes into the kitchen, and then they sat down on the couch again.

"Your apartment is very nice, but it looks a bit empty", Jesse remarked.

"I know, I moved here from San Francisco only a few days ago. I always need a while to make a new place a home for me."

"Does that mean you move often?"

Sarah sighed. "I've been a kind of nomad all my life. Moving from one place to another without ever really settling down. But somehow I like this way of life - or maybe I'd just need an incentive to stay somewhere."

"And what do you do for a living?"

"I used to be a cook, but recently I've only been employed as a waitress."

"You're a cook? I should have known…", Jesse grinned. "Do you already have a job in L.A.?"

"Not yet, but it shouldn't take me long to persuade a restaurant owner to hire me as a waitress. Maybe I can even help out in the kitchen."

"Listen", Jesse said and scratched his head. "I don't mean to offend you in any way, but I might have a job for you, and if you can convince one of the owners, you could at least work as an assistant cook there. We could need somebody at the moment."

"We?"

"Yes, I haven't told you yet, but I own a restaurant together with my partner who's also my friend. So if you don't mind working with me -" he waited for an answer.

"How could I? That's a great offer, more than I could have expected after a few days in town." She took Jesse's hands, but then hesitated. "Do you think there might be a conflict between business and - you know… private life?"

Gently, Jesse kissed Sarah on the cheek. "Does there have to be one?"

Sarah turned her head until their lips met. After a few seconds of silence, she answered, "I don't think so."

* * *

They spent over an hour talking about everything that came to their minds, comfortably lying on the couch while they watched the candles on the table burn down.

Suddenly, Jesse's pager beeped. He took it and looked at the display - it was Mark's number.

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but I have to go. There's an emergency in the hospital." He stood up and grabbed his jacket from a chair.

Sarah followed him to the door. "When can I see you again?" she asked.

"As soon as possible." Jesse laid his arms around her waist and gave her a long kiss. "How about tomorrow? I could fetch you for lunch at the Bob's. I'll talk with Steve about that job, and he'll want to see you. Wouldn't that be great, the two of us working together?"

"Better than that", Sarah replied. "Hurry up now, you're letting your patients wait again."

Jesse went down the corridor, looking back at Sarah in regret. Both waved at each other until Jesse had turned around the corner and stepped down the stairs.

Jesse heaved a deep sigh. Of course there weren't any patients he could have let wait. Mark had paged him from the beach house, which could only mean they had made progress in the case.

Down on the street, he climbed into his car and started the engine.

* * *

Amanda was standing on the driveway of Mark's house. When she saw the headlights of Jesse's car approach, she hastily made a few steps forward.

"Jesse!", she called when he stopped and opened the door. "Where have you been? We tried to reach you at home and in the hospital, but you weren't there."

"I was - out", Jesse replied. "I didn't go home from the hospital. What's so important?"

"Nothing. Well, we do have a trace, but that's not the point. We are working on a case which involves the murder of a professional killer, and you go out without telling us where you are. I think this gives us the right to worry about you."

"Oh." Embarrassed, Jesse turned the bunch of keys in his hands. "Sorry, I guess I didn't think about that."

Amanda's serious expression turned gentler. "I bet you didn't. Now come on, hero, we've been waiting for you for quite a while."

* * *

In the living room, Mark, Steve and MacGyver were waiting.

"There he is", Amanda called as they entered the room.

Steve murmured something into his cell phone and then put it back into his pocket. "Jess! Where have you been?"

Jesse repeated what he had told Amanda. "I'm sorry", he then added, "I didn't mean to cause any worry."

"Was it at least worth the trouble?" MacGyver asked.

"Oh yes, she was", Jesse said dreamily.

"She?" Steve raised an eyebrow. "But she didn't wear shades and a hat, or did she?"

"Very funny. Maybe I'll laugh tomorrow. Hey Steve, didn't you say we could need someone for the kitchen in the Bob's? Consider this problem solved, I found a brilliant cook."

Mark smiled and shook his head. "I won't ask how you did that", he said. "But we found something out. We don't have an idea who the killer might be, but the clues we have will help us narrow the search down."

"Oh yeah? What is it?"

"Amanda found out that the poison was on Keller's contact lenses. In Keller's eyes, she also found bacteria, which live on a plant called Morning Sun. This plant doesn't grow in the USA. Amanda didn't find the bacteria anywhere else on or in Keller's body, so it has most likely been brought there by the killer."

Jesse yawned. "Are we looking for a gardener now?"

"Or for somebody who has been in Southeast Asia recently, because this is where the plant grows. As I said, this isn't much, but it's a start."

"Okay, great. I just hope we'll have some suspects soon. It's simply no fun solving a murder when you don't have a killer."

"Better hope that we'll find the killer before he finds us", Mac replied. "But let's not be too pessimistic. I also did a little bit of research, and you seem to be a fantastic team. You've been in a lot of hazardous situations before, so I guess you have an idea what you're doing here. Okay, I've got to get going. I'll contact Pete, and with the help of Phoenix' resources, we'll maybe find out which HIT agent might have worked in Southeast Asia in the past weeks."

"I'll go home, too", Jesse said and yawned again. "It's getting late, and I have to be in the hospital tomorrow at 8."

"Okay, you two", Mark said. "Good night, and take care of yourselves."

Jesse and MacGyver left the beach house. Outside, they said goodbye and each went to their car, but when Jesse was about to start the engine, he noticed that MacGyver seemed to have trouble with his Jeep. He got out of his car again and went over to the dirt-covered vehicle.

"Anything wrong?" he asked.

MacGyver sighed and pulled the key out of the ignition lock. "Yes, this car's been making trouble for a while. I have an idea where the problem is, but it's dark, I'm tired and simply not in the mood - could you maybe give me a ride?"

Jesse grinned. "Sure, but we should tell the others, else they'll probably start a police search for you if they find your Jeep here."

* * *

Soon they were on their way in Jesse's car.

After a few seconds of silence, Jesse asked, "can you tell me what you actually did for a living before you started working for the Phoenix Foundation? Or is it some kind of top-secret thing? If you have to shoot me afterwards, I really needn't know it."

"Don't worry", MacGyver said with a grin. "I might have to staple your mouth shut, though - hey, don't look at me like this, I'm just kidding! I worked for the DXS for a while, Field Operations, if you get the idea. Sometimes, I've really been fed up with all this travel. Never knowing what the next assignment would bring - but I noticed that I just couldn't live without this stuff. There must be a shot of gypsy blood in my veins."

"Don't you have a family - a wife, children?"

"No, I've never really settled down, in no respect. My parents died when I was a kid, and I grew up with my grandfather. I learned a lot about life from him, it seemed like he had a worldly wisdom for each difficult situation we encountered."

"You say he *had*. Is he -?"

"Dead? No, but I haven't seen him in a while." MacGyver fell silent, and Jesse decided not to ask about his grandfather, as he didn't seem to feel comfortable talking about him.

A few minutes later, MacGyver broke the silence. "How about this girl? Are you going to see her regularly?"

"I hope so. She's just wonderful, but if you join us in the Bob's for lunch tomorrow, you'll meet her, too. She's the cook I was talking about in the beach house."

"Great, I'll be happy to meet her."

Jesse cleared his throat. "Honestly", he then burst out, "how dangerous is this Murdoc guy, and do you think he's behind this murder?"

"First of all, let me tell you that he doesn't have anything to do with it. He's not easy to describe, but I think insane genius comes pretty close. He doesn't only kill people, he celebrates each murder and regards it as a work of art, that's why he takes pictures of his victims in the moment of their death."

"So poisoning somebody would have been too easy for him?"

"Exactly. Even if he had been in a hurry, he would have thought of something more creative, sick as it may sound. So don't get fixated on him, that's something I let happen to myself in the past. Be careful, but don't get paranoid. But let's talk about something more pleasant - what's for lunch tomorrow?"

* * *

On the next day, they all met in the BBQ Bob's for lunch. Steve was coming from the station, Mark had fetched MacGyver from his place because his car still stood in front of the beach house, and Jesse had managed to extend his break so that he had enough time to introduce Sarah to his friends.

"So you are the talented young woman Jesse told us so much about?" Mark smiled and shook hands with her.

"I hope he didn't exaggerate too much", she replied, laying an arm around Jesse.

"I told them the truth and nothing but the truth. You're the best cook in California, and people will stand in line for your stew."

"Okay", Steve intervened. "Let's just eat something now and get acquainted, and tonight, you can show us what you can. Is that okay with you?"

"Absolutely fine", Sarah answered. "Thanks for giving me a chance."

They shifted two tables together and sat down, and Jesse introduced Sarah to everybody.

Sarah blinked in surprise when she heard MacGyver's name.

"What is it?" Mac asked.

"Nothing, I just think I have read your name somewhere. Weren't you the one who disarmed the bomb in the zoo a few months ago? There was an article in the newspaper about it, I believe."

"I didn't know they mentioned my name", MacGyver said, "But yes, that was my most recent attempt to spend a quiet day without any disturbance. You have a good memory; after all, this happened quite a while ago."

"I just happen to remember names very well, and beside that, the article really impressed me. You saved many lives on that day."

"So who's exaggerating now?" MacGyver replied with a smile. "Let's just concentrate on today - and on these wonderful steaks which are coming right our way."

Their dishes were brought, and for a while, the discussion was confined to expressions of pleasure about the delicious meal.

"I don't know if I can beat this", Sarah said when she was finished, "but I'll give my best."

Jesse stood up. "I have to go back to the hospital", he said and bowed over to Sarah. "Bye", he whispered in her ear and kissed her. "Bye all", he then called and went to the door, "see you tonight."

When he had left, also Sarah rose from her chair. "I'm sorry, but I have an appointment with my landlord in about two hours. We haven't worked out some details yet - as to how much hot water I'm entitled to, for example."

"Must be a very nice person", Steve remarked. "Please tell me if he makes too much trouble. I have means to tame over-enthusiastic landlords."

Sarah smiled. "I might take you up on your offer, thanks."

Cynthia, a young woman who was working as a waitress in the Bob's on her second day, tried to balance a tablet past Sarah and accidentally pushed her in the belly.

Sarah winced and bent over.

"What's up?" Mark asked, already standing up to support her.

"It's nothing, I just cut myself yesterday. You know, that's how I met Jesse. He was my attending physician in the ER."

"I'd like to have a look at this", Mark said. "Can we go to the back room for a moment?"

"Really, it's not that bad. I'll take care of that at home."

"Unless you have a medical degree, I think I'm the one to judge this", Mark replied. He gently shoved her to the back room.

When he had closed the door, he waved her over to the small couch. "Lay down and let me see this cut."

She dropped on the couch and lifted her T-shirt.

"Jesse did a good job here, but it looks like you moved a lot. Did you do any physical exercise since yesterday evening?"

"Actually, I went jogging this morning. It didn't hurt that much, so I thought it was okay."

Mark shook his head. "You should go without your training for at least a week, or else you will keep a nasty scar. How did you say this happened?"

"I tripped over the dog I was looking after for my neighbour, and fell into the knife I was holding."

"You were lucky that nothing more happened."

"Yes, I guess my guardian angel was working overtime."

"Definitely. Okay, if you keep to my advice, everything should heal well. Nevertheless, you should have someone look after the cut in two days, just to make sure there's no infection developing."

"Don't worry, I have a great doctor who takes care of me." She smiled.

Thoughtfully, Mark looked at her. "You're right, he's great. But I don't want you to be late for your appointment. Better go now, see you tonight."

"Yes, thanks." She stood up, pulled her T-shirt straight and went to the door. "Bye!"

Mark nodded and waited until she had left the room. After a few seconds, he went back into the restaurant where Steve and Amanda were talking.

"Steve, I feel a bit guilty about this, but could you check Sarah's background?"

Steve frowned. "Why?"

"It's only a feeling. In times like these, I'm rather overly cautious than risking anything. Could you just see what you can find out about her? But don't tell Jesse, I don't think he would understand this."

"Okay, Dad. But if there's anything I should know, please tell me."

"Yes, of course."

Steve nodded and then left, heading for the station.

Mark and Amanda chatted for a while, then they drove back to the hospital as well.

* * *

Later in the afternoon, Sarah walked through Bicknell Park, sunbeams and a warm wind stroking her hair. On a bench beside the path, an old man with white hair and a walking stick was sitting. His breathing sounded rather like continual cough, and a slight smell of alcohol lay around him like a cloud.

Sarah stopped and looked at the man openly, without a sign of embarrassment.

"Murdoc?" she asked.

The man lifted his head and scrutinized her. "I'm just an old man relaxing in the park. But I believe you're Sarah?"

Sarah nodded.

"Please, sit down, my child. Enjoy the sun and entertain an old fellow." He slid aside to make place for her.

Sarah hesitated, but then sat down beside him. "So you received my message?"

"Yes, and I really wonder why I shouldn't kill you right now. Are you bold, stupid, or suicidal, contacting HIT in such a pert manner?"

"I consider myself bold but clever. And I have an offer for you."

"What might a young girl like you have that I could want so much?"

"One word: MacGyver."

For a split second, Murdoc's disguise seemed to melt like butter. He stiffened and looked like a beast of prey on a blood trail. In the next instant, his shoulders collapsed, and again, he was only an old man who hardly had enough energy to sit straight.

"MacGyver?" he hissed in a voice which belied his posture. "What's the deal?"

"I get a job, you get MacGyver."

"What kind of job?"

"You know what kind of job I'm talking about. The hot stuff. Real, good work."

"And you think you're qualified?"

Sarah nodded.

"Well, of course you can tell me a lot. Where's your proof?"

"Keller."

"Your work?"

"Yes." Sarah returned his look, her body tense.

"Well", Murdoc scratched his chin, "this was nice solid work, but a bit unimaginative, ma chere. This makes me wonder: Were you his chick down in San Francisco?"

"I was his lover", she replied angrily. "And don't believe it had anything to do with love or sexual attraction. He was my ticket to HIT, and he was stupid enough not to notice it."

"Oh well, not a big loss for the world", Murdoc said. "He was even less than a workman, his killings were dilettante - the Board was already considering getting rid of him. You saved us some dirty work, this gives you a few bonus points. But please understand that we can't simply buy a pig in a poke. You will undergo some ability tests under my supervision - and I am a demanding examiner. Now tell me: How do you think can you help me get MacGyver?"

"I know where he is and what he does - and whether you believe it or not, he's investigating on Mark's death."

Murdoc chuckled. "Oh wonderful irony", he said. "I wonder if he still thinks of me sometimes."

"Listen, I don't have all day for this", Sarah said. "I'm dating one of the guys he works with. I wanted to find out how much they know, and today, I was introduced to MacGyver. I didn't know he had to do with the case, but this gives me the chance to get really close to him."

"First of all, impatience is not a virtue, honey. But I admire your way of working. Getting close to your victim makes the whole affair a lot more - tingling. How many people are working with MacGyver?"

"Four. A cop and three doctors."

"What a nice combination. I believe your sweetheart is the cop?"

Sarah shook her head, a bit uncomfortable when she thought of Jesse. "No, he's one of the doctors."

"Well, it's your choice. Okay, this is my offer: You have four chances to show me how good you are, one for each person involved in the investigation. The last one to die will be MacGyver - he's mine. When he's dead and I'm satisfied with your work, you have the job. Take it or leave it."

Sarah didn't need to consider this for long. "I reckon that we have a deal."

Murdoc nodded. "I will contact you. Until then - have some fun with your lover." He giggled and stood up, heavily leaning on his walking stick. He shuffled along the path, uttering a rough chuckle every now and then.

* * *

When Jesse and Sarah arrived at the BBQ Bob's, Steve was already there, the others hadn't shown up yet. Jesse led Sarah into the kitchen so that she could start cooking, and stayed with her to watch.

Only minutes later, Mark, Amanda and MacGyver arrived. Mark gave Steve an asking look, and Steve nodded.

"Excuse us for a minute", Mark said.

He and Steve went to the back room and closed the door behind them.

"Okay, what did you find out?"

Steve shrugged. "She doesn't have a criminal record. Her parents died when their house burned down in 1988. She was 14 back then and grew up with foster parents. She left them when she was 21 and had undergone training as a cook. During the past five years, she's been moving around a lot. It looks like she has never been in one place for more than six months. Florida, Virginia, New York, Oklahoma, Illinois, Oregon - there's hardly a state she hasn't lived in yet."

"Any special reason for this?"

"Not that I know of. Maybe she wanted to learn about the local cuisine, or she just hasn't found a nice apartment yet. However, I can see nothing suspicious in her personal record. Does this answer your questions?"

"Not all of them", Mark replied. "But as I said, I may be overly cautious at the moment."

"Could you at least tell me why exactly you wanted me to check on her? I mean, you won't let me do it for no reason, that's for sure."

"You know me too well, son", Mark smiled. "Indeed, there is something which puzzles me. Sarah claimed she had fallen into a knife, but there's no way she could have cut her belly the way she did if it had really happened like that. The cut was very long which means the knife's blade must have been pulled over the skin rather than just pressed into it. It's deep enough to justify going to the ER, but too shallow to hurt the peritoneum or any of the arteries around. It's just too perfect for an accident."

"Do you think she harmed herself? But why would she do that?"

"Did Chloe Marsden need a reason?"

Steve stared at his father. "Oh no. Come on, there can't be two psychopaths like her."

"Steve, we're in Los Angeles! And you just said she never stayed in one place for long. Doesn't this sound familiar to you?"

"My God! And what do you suggest we should do now?"

"First of all, we should watch but not interfere. Just in case I'm right, she will probably act friendly and harmlessly until she is disturbed. Until then, it would be helpful if you could find out if there are any unsolved accidents or murders which coincide with her stay in different cities. If there are no parallels, we can probably be sure she's okay. I'd really be glad for Jesse, and I hope this is only an unfounded weird feeling."

Steve wiped his forehead. "Okay, I'll check on this. It will take a while, as there's a lot of research to do, but I'll hurry up. I can't stand the thought of Jesse being together with a woman who might be as crazy as Chloe."

"Neither can I. Let's just be careful and wait what we learn about her."

Mark laid a hand on his son's shoulder, and together they went back into the restaurant.

* * *

"What's up?" Amanda asked. „You look concerned."

„Nothing important", Mark replied. "Only a little father-son talk."

Amanda gave him a sceptical look, but didn't insist on her question.

Seconds later, Jesse and Sarah returned from the kitchen.

"I hope you all like roasted chicken with a corn salad and curry sauce", Sarah said cheerfully.

"Sounds great", Mark smiled.

Steve also forced a smile on his face, hoping that it was halfway convincing.

Cynthia brought the dishes, and they tried what Sarah had cooked.

Reluctantly, Steve had to admit to himself that the chicken was excellent, but even if it had tasted like charcoal, he probably wouldn't have told in this moment. "Sarah, you're hired", he said and managed to look at her as he spoke.

"Great!", Jesse called and hugged her. "I told you they'd love it!"

"You can start tomorrow", Steve added. After all, he thought, this idea wasn't that bad. If Sarah worked in the Bob's, they could observe her at least a few hours a day.

* * *

When Sarah returned into her apartment, she noticed that there was something wrong. The door hadn't been forced open, but she had a feeling like there was somebody waiting for her.

Without switching on the light, she pulled her Walther P99 from its hiding- place behind a chest at the door.

Carefully, she stepped into the room, the pistol's muzzle pointing blindly into the darkness.

Suddenly, she saw a movement at the window which was barely more than a grey spot in the homogenous, impenetrable blackness. She turned towards the spot where she expected the intruder, but the shadow was gone.

In this instant, the lights were switched on, and for a second, Sarah saw only coloured spots dancing in front of her eyes. She spun around.

Murdoc was standing at the door, giving her a superior grin.

"You still have a lot to learn, cherie, but you have the best teacher."

"What are you doing here?" Sarah demanded angrily.

"I told you I would contact you, and here I am."

"I thought you would call me or something like that", Sarah replied.

"And miss the opportunity to see how you live?" Murdoc looked around. "I like your style. Comfortable, but always ready to leave."

Sarah stared at Murdoc for a second. His appearance scared her more than she would have admitted. This was the first time she saw him unmasked, and his disfigured face seemed even more distorted when it was lit up by a crazy, cold grin. Keller had talked about Murdoc a few times, and she had also seen photographs, but seeing the man behind the legend without any disguise was like really feeling pain after only having talked about it all her life.

She cleared her throat. "Well then, what are your instructions?", she asked in her steadiest voice.

"Not losing any time, huh? And I thought we could spend a nice evening talking about this and that. But you're right, here's what you have to do: You will take your exam in four areas of killing: firearms, poison, mechanical gadgets, and the joker subject in which you may choose freely what the murder will look like, but it should be something sophisticated and unusual - I want to be entertained." Murdoc went over to her and sat down on the couch. "I gathered information about your victims, and I suggest you start with young Sloan. He's a perfect victim for a tragic traffic accident - or maybe you can think of something better, I leave this completely to you. His death should puzzle the others enough to make them easy targets."

Sarah swallowed. She had thought that she was cold-blooded, but it seemed like there was really much she still had to learn.

"The next in the row will be the girl", Murdoc continued. "Her death will make the other two even more nervous." He grinned. "They will curl up like rabbits in a hole." Thoughtfully, he scratched a deep scar on his forearm. "Next, old Dr. Sloan. He's really not worth the trouble, so a bullet will do for him. I take it that you want to kill your lover last? Okay, this means you save the joker test for him. And while you're working, I will prepare a very special surprise for MacGyver. You may join me when we set the trap up. This will be a practical lesson for you, and we'll be having a great time together."

Sarah nodded, not quite sure if she wanted to spend what Murdoc called a "great time". Then she shrugged off her doubts. If she wanted to be successful, she had to undergo the best training - and she knew she could consider herself lucky being educated by HIT's living legend.

"What is it?" Murdoc asked. "You seem irresolute, darling."

"Not irresolute, just absent-minded. I was thinking about a nice way to prepare Sloan's car. Only manipulating the brakes is not really a challenge for me."

Murdoc patted her shoulder, and Sarah had to pull herself together not to wince from the hand which looked like that of a very old man even without any make-up. "That's my apprentice", he said. "I will meet you again when you have finished your first test."

Without any other word, he walked to the door and left the apartment. Sarah stayed where she was. She didn't feel the urge to find out where this Nemesis would spend the rest of the evening.

* * *

Mark and Steve left for the beach house, and also Amanda said goodbye soon. She had left CJ at home with a baby-sitter and didn't want either of them to stay up too long.

Jesse and MacGyver stayed until the BBQ Bob's closed, and Mac helped Jesse tidy up and finish whatever work had to be done so that they could send the staff home earlier.

"Thanks for helping", Jesse said. "Did you come here with your Jeep?"

"Yes, I managed to get it running this afternoon, but I don't know for how long."

"Have you ever considered buying a new car?"

"Nah. I hate throwing things away, especially when I have grown so fond of them."

"Okay, good luck in driving home", Jesse said with a grin. "You can go now if you want to, I only have to lock the pay-desk and the front door, that shouldn't be a problem."

"Yeah, okay. I'll do some research with Phoenix tomorrow - I take it that you'll call me when you find something out?"

"Of course. But I have a feeling you'll have the first results earlier as we don't have any clues beside Southeast Asia."

"We'll see. Bye then!"

"Bye!" Jesse finished his work while MacGyver was already leaving the restaurant. He went to the door, switched the lights off and locked the door from outside. When he turned to walk to his car, he saw MacGyver leaning against his Jeep, smiling at him sheepishly.

Jesse didn't need to ask what was wrong. "Come on", he grinned, "this time, we'll tow your car off to your place. You'll get a ticket if you let it stand here all night."

* * *

MacGyver scratched his head. "I'm sorry, I really didn't want to misuse you as my personal driver. I think I owe you something."

"Ah, forget it. You're helping us with the case, that's more than enough compensation."

"Yeah, maybe. Oh well, thanks anyway. I'll rent a car tomorrow and see what I can do about the Jeep."

"Alright. And keep us updated about your research, okay?"

"Absolutely. Good night!" MacGyver opened the house's front door and went up the stairs to his apartment.

Jesse yawned and got back into his car. He had worked too much lately, and he could really need a good night's sleep now. He yawned again and drove back to his apartment.

* * *

The sun had almost set. The visible rest of the red disk still cast a warm light on the calm surface of the ocean. Steve was sitting in his Ford, whistling the tune of "Summer in the City", which was, accidentally or not, playing on the radio. After a while, he gave up the whistling and started singing along instead.

Another beautiful day over in the City of Angels, and Detective Steve Sloan on his way to work, he thought.

"Summer in the City" had been replaced by the Barenaked Ladies' "One Week" when Steve's cell phone rang.

Heaving a sigh, he accepted the call. He was driving on the Pacific Coast Highway, and he couldn't pull over, but the call might be important.

"Sloan."

"Hi Stevie", a distorted voice said.

Steve frowned. "Who's there?"

"I'd like to say it's a friend, but that would mean lying." An indefinable sound followed, and Steve needed a few seconds to realize that the person on the other end of the line had laughed. He couldn't distinct whether it was male or female as the distortion made any identification impossible.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"First of all, you shouldn't, I repeat, you should *not* stop the car. Have you seen the movie 'Speed'?"

With his free hand, Steve grabbed the steering wheel tighter. "Tell me what you want!"

"I want you to die. But I also want you to know that you may be proud. Only the best are killed by HIT."

"You're a HIT agent? Did you kill Keller?"

Another tinny chuckle. "You are going to die, and you worry about Keller? But to answer your question, yes. Now listen carefully: There's a bomb under your car, and my little transmitter tells me that you exceeded the 50 miles per hour about a minute ago. Well then, show me that you're a clever cop. What do you think will happen when you slow down?"

Steve gazed at the speedometer and hastily stepped on the gas pedal. While he had been distracted by the call, the car's speed had almost fallen under 50 mph.

"Oh, and just in case you're thinking about a spectacular rescue now, forget it. I'm not taking any chances, so there's a time fuse as well. The bomb will blow up in -", a short break, "- six and a half minutes. To make it even more thrilling, I permitted myself to manipulate the gas display. Whatever you see, the tank is almost empty."

"Why are you doing this?" Steve looked at the display which showed that the tank was full. Yesterday night, it had been half empty.

"You just ask too many questions", the voice replied. "Curiosity killed the cat - you shouldn't have investigated on Keller's death. But I'm wasting your time, and you don't have much left. Have a nice rest of your life - six minutes, Stevie."

The connection was interrupted, and the phone was dead.

Steve's thoughts raced. He threw the cell phone on the passenger seat and took the steering wheel with both hands. Six minutes weren't enough to get help, and he couldn't leave the highway because he had to retain his speed.

Right ahead, there was the exit to the Interstate 10 which led to Los Angeles. Entering the town in a bomb on wheels would be crazy and irresponsible, he thought. Then an idea flashed in his mind: Marina Del Rey! This was still suicidal, but if he could manage to drive the car into the water without hitting a boat, he might have a chance to make it.

20 seconds since the line had gone dead. He had hardly more than five and a half minutes, and usually it was almost a 15-minutes drive from here to Marina Del Rey. Pushing the gas pedal down, he reached for the phone again and dialled 911.

"This is Lieutenant Steve Sloan. I'm driving down the Ocean Ave, heading towards Marina Del Rey, in a grey Ford Victoria Crowne. I have a bomb aboard and hardly more than five minutes left until it blows up. I need you to clear my way and evacuate the piers. If I stop, the bomb will explode as well, so make sure I don't need to slow down. I have to get the car into the basin somehow, that's the only way."

He listened as his report was confirmed, and then put the phone down again. Thick sweat drops running down his forehead and into his eyes, he curved around the slower cars, desperately waiting for his escort. He uttered a sigh of relief when he saw two Highway Patrol motorbikes and a squad car entering the road in front of him.

Steve glanced at the cell phone on his lap. He should focus his attention on the street as he was driving with an insane speed, but he felt there was something he had to do as he didn't know if he would survive the next five - no, three minutes. God, could time really fly so fast? He took the phone with one hand and dialled while he kept his gaze fixed on the street.

"Hello?", a voice answered the phone.

"Dad, it's me."

"Steve, what's up? You sound stressed."

Steve didn't feel like smiling, but he did - it was too ironic. 'Stressed' didn't even come close to how he felt.

"I don't have the time to explain anything. Somebody's trying to kill me, maybe also you and the others. But no matter what happens -" He stopped as a truck appeared in front of him, and he had to pull the Ford into an adventurous bend. "Dad", he said as calmly as he could, "I love you."

"Steve, what -", he heard his father's voice, then he pressed the "disconnect" button. Carelessly, he dropped the phone and fully concentrated on driving. He was now speeding down the Pacific Avenue with slightly more than a mile to go.

The sun had disappeared, and it was getting dark, so Steve switched the car's headlights on. He now had less than a minute to find a way of safely getting out of a car driving 70 mph. He intended to slow down when he reached the basin, but he still couldn't go under 50 mph.

He thought for a second, then opened his belt and pulled it out of his jeans' belt loops. Still pressing his right foot on the gas pedal, he fumbled the shoe off his left foot. When he was already turning onto Washington Boulevard, he blocked the gas pedal with his shoe and opened the window. He wound one end of the belt around the steering wheel, and climbing out of the window, he steered the car only holding the belt's other end.

How much time had he left? 15 seconds? 10? The wind tearing on his clothes and hair, he struggled to get on the Ford's roof, still trying to keep it in track with the belt. His escort pulled aside and stopped, and in the next instant, he saw water reflecting the city's lights.

The car dashed down the pier, and suddenly it was airborne. The only thought Steve was capable of was getting away from the flying coffin. For an awfully long moment, he weightlessly slid through the air, unable to tell which dark surface was the sky and which the water. Then he realized that the water had to be the granite-like mass which approached him with murderous speed.

* * *

With shaking hands, Mark put the phone down. Only minutes after Steve had left the house for work, he had called him, obviously from his car, only to tell his father that somebody was going to kill him. Mark hadn't even had the time to ask what exactly was going on when they had been disconnected, and now he was paralysed. Mark's usually so reliable brain didn't seem to intend telling him what he was supposed to do now.

He didn't know how long he had stood there staring at the phone when the right, the only thought came to his mind.

He picked the phone up and dialled the number of Steve's cell phone.

After a few very long seconds of waiting, a female voice answered, "the number you have called is temporarily not available."

Mark heard an unarticulated sound and realized that he himself was the source.

Steve wouldn't call him and then switch the phone off - something must have happened to him.

Still trembling, but now no longer paralysed by the shock, he dialled Steve's work number. When somebody answered the phone, he demanded to talk to Chief Masters.

"My son called me -" he started when he had been connected to the Chief.

"I know", Masters replied, his voice unusually gentle. "He called the emergency unit before, and they informed me on what happened. How much do you know?"

"Nothing. I mean, he told me that somebody was going to kill him, and then the line was dead."

"There was a bomb in his car, Dr. Sloan. When he called us, he was heading for the basin at Marina Del Rey; he wanted to sink the car. We sent him an escort, and right now, I'm waiting for their report."

"I'm on my way." Without waiting for a reply, Mark dropped the phone and rushed out of the house.

* * *

He arrived at the station and ran up the stairs, entering Masters' office without any formalities like knocking.

"News?" he asked.

Masters nodded. "Lieutenant Sloan managed to get out of the car before he reached the basin. He was driving so fast that he had to jump into the water from the car's roof."

"Is he hurt? Did anything happen to him?"

"Doctor Sloan, he was driving really fast -"

"You already said that", Mark interrupted him impatiently.

"- and at 50 miles per hour, even water can be like a concrete wall", Masters continued. "It must have been like hitting solid ground when he fell into the water. I don't mean to scare you, but the officers who escorted him haven't found him yet. Right after the car had sunk, it exploded, and a shockwave under water -" He left the conclusion to Mark.

The phone rang.

For a second, Masters stared at it, just as hypnotized as Mark, then he grabbed the receiver.

"Masters." He listened. Then his lips formed something that somebody who didn't know the Chief could have interpreted as a smile. He hung up and looked at Mark. "They found him."

"Is he okay?" Mark clutched his chair's armrests.

"He's alive, that's all I know. Our officers are taking him to the Community General. This is the only place where we can keep his survival secret. Whoever tried to kill him must think he's dead, else he won't be safe."

"You're right. I want to see him."

Masters nodded. "I'll drive. You're not in the state to."

Mark didn't contradict. He simply wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible, no matter how.

* * *

Jesse was enjoying his first short break in hours when his pager went off. It was Amanda calling from the pathology lab. He downed the rest of his coffee and went downstairs to see what she wanted.

He entered the pathology and didn't see Amanda but only a body lying on the autopsy table. It was Steve.

"Oh my God, what -?" He rushed toward him, but made a full stop when Steve opened his eyes and looked at him wearily.

"Hey Jess."

"Steve, what happened to you? You're completely soaked." With the routine of an emergency doctor, he immediately started to examine him.

Amanda returned into the lab, accompanied by two police officers. "Jesse, I'm glad you're here. We had to take him to the pathology, nobody must know that he's here."

"But why? What's up?"

"Somebody tried to kill him. He crashed into a basin with his car, and he was struck by a shock wave when the car exploded."

Jesse was finished examining Steve's torso, and while he started to palpate his legs, Steve closed his eyes again.

"Jesse", Amanda said urgently.

"I know, I know. Don't worry", he said and straightened himself, "I'm not completely sure, but I think he only has a concussion. His right arm and two ribs are broken, and his right leg is one giant bruise, but I think he'll be alright. We need the right equipment down here, though. I don't want to take any risk." He looked at the officers. "I'll be right back. You take good care of him." He briefly pressed Amanda's hand and dashed off to the Emergency Room.

* * *

When he returned with a gurney and a box with bandages, plaster and band- aids, Mark and Chief Masters had arrived in the pathology lab.

He nodded at Masters and gave Mark a sympathetic smile, then he started to bandage Steve's head.

"What are you doing?" Amanda gazed at him. "He's not bleeding."

"I've been an ER surgeon long enough to see that. But I want to do a CT of his head and abdomen, and we have to disguise him somehow."

"Oh." Amanda went to get a white blanket and pulled the gurney over to the autopsy table.

When Jesse was finished bandaging Steve's face, the four carefully lifted him on the gurney and covered his body with the blanket.

"Doctor Sloan, you should stay here", Masters said. "If the killer is around, he might draw conclusions if he sees you with a patient and upset like this."

"So should you", Jesse told him. "I am an ER doctor on duty. It's absolutely normal that I accompany patients, but if you're around, everybody can be sure that the patient is a cop."

Masters nodded. "Just take care of him. I'll drive back to the station and make sure that Steve Sloan is considered dead. A few phone calls with some newspaper editors will help, but I'll have to hurry to get the story into tomorrow's early edition. Bye."

"He's an ice cube", Jesse said when Masters was out of earshot.

Mark shook his head. "Somewhere inside, he does have feelings. *Deep* inside. Now please go, okay? I don't want to lose any time."

"Okay." Jesse pushed the gurney on the corridor, carefully looking left and right. Then he shoved it towards the elevator.

* * *

Mark sighed and dropped on a chair. Amanda laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay", she said. "He will be fine."

"I know, he's in capable hands. It's just - ever since he was shot by one of Gordon Ganza's killers, I haven't been so afraid." He ran a slightly trembling hand through his hair.

Amanda hugged him. "This was a terrible evening, but now you should try to relax."

"I can't. When he called me from his car, Steve said the killer was after us as well. I believe it must have to do with Keller's death. Maybe we really got into the way of a HIT killer. However, even if he thinks that Steve is dead, he will probably try to kill everybody else who investigates on the case. We must be very careful now."

"You're right. I'll search Jesse and tell him to look out."

"Yes, and I will call MacGyver. I don't know how much the killer knows, but MacGyver could be in danger as well."

Amanda left the pathology, and Mark went over to the phone to call MacGyver.

* * *

On the next morning, Murdoc was already waiting in the living room when Sarah stood up. She had given up wondering how he managed to get into her apartment which was secured very well, even if it didn't look like it.

He waved a newspaper, a broad grin on his face. "Congratulations", he said. "You have passed your first exam. A bomb, this is quite tricky. You never know if it explodes in the right moment and with the right person on board."

"I had taken precautions. There was no chance it could have gone wrong."

Murdoc nodded. "It worked, and success is an essential part of our business. Creativity is the other part, and bombs always require a certain talent of improvisation. You have this talent, and I think it's worth being supported. Will you need any help with your second test?"

"No, I have a bit experience with that."

"Ah, Keller", Murdoc smiled. "Just make sure you don't repeat yourself. The little gimmick with poisoned contacts is funny once, but I'd like to see something new. Have you taken any pictures for the family album?"

"No. I didn't know where he would drive, and there was police around. I didn't really want to be caught at the crime scene."

"Ah, one more thing I'll have to teach you. People are so easy to fool. A little bit of make-up, a slight limp, and nobody will recognize you. But first get your second exam done. Until then, you may keep this." He handed her the newspaper. "Page three. Not exactly the day's headline, but not bad."

Sarah took the newspaper and opened it at page 3. "Police officer killed by car bomb", the headline read. Below, there was a black-and-white picture of Steve Sloan in his uniform, and a larger photograph of his car's remains being dragged out of the basin.

She glanced over the text which praised Steve's excellent work as a policeman. It was mentioned that he had been working on a case when he was killed, and that his death was probably connected with his investigation. In the following, there were the usual condolence notes, his colleagues, friends and family would miss him, and so on.

Sarah put the paper down. She wasn't surprised to see that Murdoc was gone. After a glance at her watch, she folded the newspaper and stuffed it into her jacket's pocket. Jesse had to be in the hospital now, and maybe she would find Amanda, too.

* * *

"Oh Jesse, I read it in the newspaper. Is it really true?"

"Yes." Jesse did his best to look desperate and sad, and his guilty conscience at least helped him with the sad part. He hated lying at Sarah, but Mark had urged him not to tell any person that Steve had survived the attack.

"I'm so sorry." Sarah hugged him, gently patting his back as she pressed her cheek against his. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No, but thank you. I think we will somehow have to cope with it, difficult as it is."

"I read something about an investigation. What kind of case might it have been that somebody would even kill for it?"

Jesse kissed her on the forehead. "I can't tell you anything. The less you know, the less likely you'll be dragged into this. I don't want to endanger you."

"You're the most caring person I know." She dared to show a small smile. "I believe you don't care for dinner tonight?"

Jesse shook his head. "Not tonight. Too much to be done, too many things to be thought over. Just give me a day or two to realize what happened. I hope you're not mad with me."

"Oh no, how could I? I hardly knew him, and even I feel like I had lost a friend. How much worse must it be for you! But if you feel like talking, just call me up. I'll always be there to listen."

Jesse smiled. "Thank you. This is a hard time, and it's good to have someone like you."

"I'll go to work now. You certainly need any help you can get now at the restaurant."

"What would I do without you."

* * *

Mark, Steve and MacGyver were sitting around the table in the beach house.

Mark had told Steve to stay in bed, but when one of the two officers who guarded the house had handed Mark a file which contained the results of Steve's research on unsolved murders coinciding with Sarah's stay in different towns, Steve had insisted on getting up and working on this file with his father. At least Mark and MacGyver had convinced him to lean back in the leather armchair they had shifted next to the table.

Mark read over some of the pages and then looked at the others. "It seems like we have another problem", he said.

"Oh great", Steve complained. "Problems are like termites - if you see one, you can be sure there's a whole bunch right around the corner. What is it?"

"In 14 out of the 17 cities Sarah has lived in since she moved away from her foster parents, there have been murders which aren't completely solved yet. The list of suicides and deadly accidents is too long to draw reliable conclusions, but I have a feeling that with enough research, we could come up with more parallels."

"How did you get the idea to investigate into her, and why do you think she killed people?", MacGyver wanted to know.

Mark shook his head. "I don't believe she killed anybody. This is a long story, but in the past, Jesse has been stalked by a crazy woman who made her lovers kill each other. He had almost become one of her victims. This woman, Chloe, did everything to get close to him, and apparently, Sarah hurt herself to have a reason to go to the Emergency Room."

"And now you believe she might act similar to Chloe?"

"It's possible, that's enough reason for me to warn him." Mark stood up and went to the phone.

While he dialled, MacGyver went to the kitchen to fill their jug with orange juice. When he returned, Mark was still waiting for Jesse to answer the phone.

As he waited, he looked more concerned each second, but then his face lit up. "Jesse", he said, "good to talk to you. Are you alone? There's something you should know."

* * *

Jesse listened to what Mark had to tell him, and his jaw dropped. "Mark", he said desperately, "I just declined a date with her."

"How did she react?"

"She said she'd go to work, and she offered that I could call her to talk - you know, because she thinks that Steve is dead."

"I think the best will be if you don't refuse anything she wants. When your shift is over, go to the Bob's and talk to her. I will be there, too, and see what happens."

"Okay. Mark, this one time I'd be glad if you were wrong."

"Believe me, so would I. But be careful anyway."

"Yes. Bye." Jesse hung up and leaned against the wall, covering his face with his right arm. What had he done that fate had to punish him like that? He hadn't asked to meet a woman he'd fall for at first sight, so why did she have to turn out to be a psychopath? He silently vowed to turn his back on every woman he felt the slightest attraction to from now on.

"Jesse, are you okay?"

Jesse turned around. It was Amanda giving him a concerned look.

"No", he said. "I mean, yes, I'm okay. I'm dead. But okay." With lowered head, he marched down the corridor towards the Emergency Room.

Amanda gazed at him as he went down the hall, not quite sure what he had been talking about. Then she decided that he would have told her if it had been something important, and went back to the pathology lab.

* * *

After a long shift, there was nothing she looked more forward to than the chocolate milk and sandwiches she had brought with her. With a content sigh, she unwrapped the sandwiches and placed them on the table in front of her.

She opened the bottle with chocolate milk and then stood up to close one of the drawers. She didn't feel disgust when she saw corpses, but the body of somebody who died in a drive-by shooting didn't necessarily evoke a picnic feeling in her.

When she walked back to the table where she had put her lunch, her left foot got caught in the strap of her handbag which she had placed beside the chair. She stumbled and fell, tipping over the bottle as she grabbed for a hold. The chocolate milk spilled over the sandwiches, soaking them and colouring them brown.

"Oh no!" She took the bottle, but it was almost empty. With a sad expression on her face, she regarded the mess on the table. So much for her lunch. Her sandwiches had turned into a shapeless brown mud which - bubbled?

Amanda drew her hand back, dropping the plastic bottle right into the meanwhile almost liquid substance which covered the table. Immediately, the bottle seemed to melt, and Amanda believed she heard a low hiss. What was that? It almost looked like a strong acid, but if it had been in the chocolate milk, it would have destroyed the bottle way earlier. The sandwiches wouldn't have stayed in their original condition as well, so how could this have happened? It had to be the combination; something like a binary poison, only with a different effect.

Amanda decided to analyse this later; first there was a phone call she had to make.

* * *

Mark's eyes widened as he listened to Amanda's report. "This must have been our HIT killer", he said. "Stay in the pathology lab, I'll come and fetch you."

"No", MacGyver said. "If the killer is after those people who officially investigate on Keller's death, you're not safe if you leave the house. I'll go."

Mark nodded. "Amanda, MacGyver will fetch you. Make sure nobody sees you - maybe we can fool our assassin. He believes that he was successful in his attempt to kill Steve, and perhaps we can feign your death, too."

"Okay, but please, hurry up."

"He'll be right there. Take care!"

* * *

Jesse shook his head when he looked at his pager. He'd soon spend more time down in the pathology than in the Emergency Room if Amanda kept calling him all the time.

The shades at the windows were closed, and when Jesse entered the room, a hand grabbed his shirt and dragged him inside. All he saw was a giant fist right in front of his eyes, but before he could react, the fist was dropped, and he was released.

Jesse gazed at the person who stood in front of him. It was MacGyver who gave him an apologizing look.

"I'm sorry", Mac said. "We thought it was the killer coming back to finish his work."

"Finish his work? What do you mean?"

Amanda pointed at the table. "This was my lunch - at least before it started to corrode the table."

"Whew. Not exactly a diet I'd recommend. Okay, did you call me to show me this, or did you have another reason?"

"You have to kill me", Amanda replied. "You must sign the death certificate and make it look like I died in here."

"But how will you get out of here?"

MacGyver smiled. "As the Community General now doesn't have a coroner any longer, Chief Masters arranged a transport to the LA Central where the pathologist will examine Amanda Bentley's corpse. Of course, only an empty bag will reach the LA Central. Amanda will be smuggled into the beach house where she can hide just like Steve does."

"Cool." Jesse thought for a moment. „And what exactly am I supposed to do?"

"You'll have to do a little bit of acting." MacGyver went over to a sideboard with bottles containing disinfectants and other chemicals. "But first we have to make Amanda a corpse."

After Amanda had explained to him what exactly the acid would have done to her if she had swallowed it, MacGyver started to apply several harmless chemicals on her face. "A little bit of iodine will be fine as blood", he then said and sprinkled a few drops around her lips.

Amanda turned to Jesse. "How do I look?"

Jesse grinned. "Wouldn't want to meet you in the dark."

"The policemen should be here in a few minutes", MacGyver said. "Oh, I almost forgot about that." He took a small cardboard box out of his pocket and gave it to Jesse. "I believe you said that you wanted one."

Jesse opened the little box. "Hey, cool", he said and held up the Swiss Army Knife which had been inside. "But what's that for?"

"Let's say it's a little 'thank you' for driving me around. And beside that, everybody should have one. You never know when you may need it."

"Great, thanks."

Somebody knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" Jesse asked.

"LAPD. We've been sent to escort a transport to the LA Central."

MacGyver nodded, and Jesse opened the door.

Two policemen entered the room, and both winced when they saw Amanda. "Wow", the older one said, "this should work just fine. Make sure you breathe as shallow as possible, and don't move. There will be some reporters when we leave the building."

They prepared a body bag so that the officers could open it on command and make it look like a mistake. It would show enough of Amanda's face to make identification easy and allow the photographers a few good shots.

Uncomfortably, Amanda let them close the zipper and lay unmoving. When the policemen pushed the gurney on the corridor, Jesse accompanied them and did his best to look shocked.

MacGyver left the hospital through the cellar, and when the hearse had left, Jesse went back inside to take the rest of the day off.

* * *

They all met in the beach house, and first of all, Amanda went to the bathroom to wash the improvised make-up off.

"This is getting scary", she said when she returned. "If the killer could poison my food so easily, he must have been in the hospital for a while."

"Yes", Mark replied. "Jesse, you should take a few days off. I'll do the same, as we both officially have good reasons to do so. Unofficially, we have even better reasons."

"I wouldn't want to spend one more minute in the Community General with this lunatic around", Jesse replied.

"Research becomes more difficult, though", Steve remarked. "I can't go to work, Amanda can't help us, either. And if you two have to stay at home now -"

"This leaves only me", MacGyver said. "I will do some research with Phoenix, just give me a list of what I must ask for."

Mark thought for a moment. "We have two cases", he then said. "First, the HIT killer. We must find out which HIT agents have been in Southeast Asia recently, and whose style a car bomb and poisoning would be. Second, Sarah. It looks like she's been involved with murders, though she needn't have committed them. She might look like a minor problem right now, but we shouldn't underestimate the risk. This means we have to find out how much she has to do with the murders."

"Does it also mean I should date her?" Jesse asked concerned.

"Meet her, talk to her, but be careful. There's always the risk of the killer being around."

"Meanwhile, I'll go and contact Pete. I will call you as soon as I find something out." MacGyver stood up and went to the door.

"Watch out for those car bombs", Jesse called after him.

MacGyver grinned and shook his head, then he left the house.

* * *

„It's about time you show up, Mac!" Pete Thornton stood up from his chair and rounded the desk.

MacGyver immediately noticed that the feigned anger on his friend's face was supposed to cover deep concern. "I'm sorry, Pete", he replied. "I didn't think you were so worried."

"Two out of five people working on the case Keller are dead", Pete said. "I don't want you to be the next one."

Mac smiled. "Looks like we did a good job. Pete, they aren't dead. Both survived the attacks on their life, and they are hiding from the killer now."

Pete was surprised, but not satisfied with this explanation. "The killer is still on the loose, Mac."

"I know, that's why I'm here. I need your help in two things. First, we have to find out who our killer is. Next, I need information about a woman named Sarah Taylor. Here's a list of her different addresses in the past five years, and this one's a list with unsolved murders." He handed Pete two sheets of paper. "We need to check them and find out if there's a connection."

"Are you working on two cases at a time now?" Pete shook his head and regarded the papers.

"Pete, please. It's important. What use will it have finding one killer and having another one run around freely?"

"Of course. I'll work on my PC - and don't you dare to leave this room until I'm finished. Unless I know what's going on, I don't want you to go out and be a walking target. Well then, what can you tell me about Keller's murderer?"

* * *

Sarah was lying at the beach, her blond hair hidden under a black wig, her face disguised by large sunglasses. When she had made sure that nobody was watching her, she put the shades into the sand and took a small digital video camera out of her handbag.

She panned the camera, seemingly just filming the beach, but she had squeezed the best performance out of the zoom and kept watching the beach house on the small LCD screen.

Suddenly, she uttered an angry and disappointed moan. Sitting at the table, there was Steve Sloan - his right arm in a cast, his face scratched and swollen, but he did *not* look dead. In a sudden presentiment, Sarah moved the camera a bit. Right, there she was, entering the living room from the kitchen: Amanda Bentley.

In an outburst of anger, she hurled the camera to the ground. They had fooled her all the time! She didn't have an idea how, but both of her victims were still alive!

Sarah hesitated. Was it possible that they had found out that she was the assassin? No, they would have made sure that she couldn't continue her work. So they were simply hiding, maybe trying to find out who was attempting to kill them.

Okay, if they wanted to play games, they had just found a willing opponent.

She pulled her cell phone out and dialled the number of Jesse's pager. One minute later, her phone rang.

"Jesse, darling. A few customers told me that something happened to Amanda. Is it true?"

There was a moment of silence. Then Jesse answered, "yes. It's - terrible, I don't know what to say."

"Jess, this really hit me, I just can't spend the evening alone in this huge apartment. I'm not asking you for a date, I only want to talk. This is eating me - I need you now. Is that selfish?"

"No, Sarah, really. It's okay; I'll come over to your place tonight. I could need somebody to talk, too. 7pm?"

"Any time you want to." She disconnected and put the phone back into her pocket.

Now she had a problem. Both people she was supposed to have killed were still alive - Murdoc would tear her heart out or think of something even more disgusting if he found out about this. Now she had to hide her failure from him until she had the chance to correct it. Plus, if she didn't find a way to get past the guards in front of the beach house, she had to explain to Murdoc why she had changed the order and killed Jesse before Mark. But until now, she had always found a way to get along, and this time, it wouldn't be different.

Sarah grabbed her stuff and started walking down the beach. She had a lot to do until tonight.

* * *

Jess put the receiver down.

"Let me guess", Mark said. "Sarah?"

Jesse nodded.

"And you're going to see her tonight?"

"Yes. I mean, she was so desperate, and you said I shouldn't refuse anything she asks for."

"You're right, it was probably the right thing to do. But be careful, the killer might be around. Steve, do you think you could send two men out to watch his back?"

Steve shrugged. "They can't follow him everywhere, but they can make sure nobody attacks him on the street. And we should examine his car - just in case there's another surprise hidden."

"Okay, let's give these instructions out. I really hope MacGyver will return soon, hopefully with some useful information."

* * *

"So, now you're almost ready to go." Amanda brushed some tiny dust flakes from Jesse's jacket and patted his shoulder.

"You're really having fun here, huh?" Jesse asked.

Amanda grinned. "I'm sorry, but I've never before seen anyone who was so depressed about going to a date."

"Maybe because their date was not a psychopath?"

"We don't know that for sure", Mark said reassuringly. "And until now, she doesn't have a reason to be jealous, so don't worry. Everything will go just fine."

"I hope so." Jesse wasn't completely convinced.

Nevertheless, he left the beach house and drove to Sarah's apartment, always watching the policemen's grey Chevy in the rear-view mirror.

* * *

It was almost 7 when Pete finally gestured Mac to come over to his desk.

"I think I found something", he said. "But it's not encouraging."

"What is it?"

"First of all, the unsolved murders. Sarah Taylor hasn't committed them, that's for sure. But what I found out is even more disturbing." Pete pressed a few keys. "Look at this."

Mac looked at the screen. "What?", he called when he saw the data presented in a table.

Pete rubbed his temples. "These are the facts, Mac. All those unsolved murders have apparently been committed by HIT's men. And according to our sources, Sarah wasn't only around but even had relationships to several of the agents."

MacGyver dropped on a chair. "She's a groupie", he murmured. "But what sense would that make?"

"Maybe you get an idea when you have a look at this." Pete typed something, and the table on the screen disappeared. Instead, Sarah's file appeared. "Here: Only a few days ago, she returned from a vacation to Cambodia. She had to obtain a visa to enter the country, that's why we know so exactly. Southeast Asia, does that ring a bell?"

"*She* killed Keller? But that would mean -"

"It's her, Mac. I don't know how you met her, but this woman is your killer."

Without a word, Mac grabbed the telephone.

"Mark? This is MacGyver. I know who killed Keller, and I bet you won't like it. It's Sarah. Don't ask me why, but she followed different HIT agents through the States, and now it looks like she started killing on her own."

"Oh my God. Jesse's with her."

"What? Where are they?"

"At her apartment - at least I hope they stayed there."

"Okay, give me the address." MacGyver took a slice of paper and a ball pen.

"Do you want to go there?"

"Do you have a better suggestion? If she's not yet going to kill him, maybe I can get him out of there. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. But better send reinforcement, just in case."

Mark gave MacGyver the address, and he wrote it down and shoved the paper over to Pete.

"Mac, what are you doing?" Pete looked after him as he dashed out of the office.

"She might be attempting another murder right now. Follow me to this address!", Mac called over his shoulder.

Pete stared at the slice of paper. Couldn't MacGyver wait for him this one time?

* * *

"Steve, you must call the officers who followed Jesse."

"Why? What's up?"

"Sarah is the murderer, she killed Keller. MacGyver didn't explain why, but he was certain. They must get him out of there."

Steve stood up, wincing as the sudden movement reminded him of his broken ribs, and went outside to the officers guarding the house to use their radio. A minute later, he returned, a grim look on his face.

"They aren't answering", he said. "I'll go there."

"Steve, you're injured. You should be in bed, not hunting a killer", Amanda said.

"MacGyver is on his way to Sarah's place", Mark added. "There's not much you could do."

"He's unarmed, and I don't believe his knife will get him out of this situation." Steve attached the holster to his belt and checked his gun. "I'll take your car."

"Steve!", Mark called, but he was already outside.

* * *

Jesse's heart was pounding somewhere in his throat when he rang the doorbell.

Sarah opened and hugged him. Involuntarily, Jesse stiffened. He couldn't help it, he was too nervous to act casual.

Sarah noticed his tension and stepped back. "What's up?", she asked.

"Oh, nothing, it's just been a hard day", he said and hoped she wouldn't notice the sweat on his forehead.

"Well, come in."

Jesse went inside. There was something in the air he couldn't define, but he didn't like it. Something was wrong here. He turned around, already thinking about an excuse to go back to his car, but Sarah stood in the door frame, obviously not with the intention to let him pass.

"Honey, are you going already?"

"I'm - no, I just -"

"- want to fetch something from the car?"

"Yes." Jesse nodded, relieved that she seemed to believe him.

"Okay, but come back soon." She hugged him again, and suddenly he felt a small prick in his left trapezius muscle.

"Ouch. What's that?" He gazed at the syringe she was holding in her hand.

"This place is so boring. I'll take you somewhere else where we'll have much more fun."

Jesse felt his knees getting weak; his whole body felt numb, and his sense of balance seemed to let him down, too. Swaying slightly, he could only stare at Sarah.

A figure appeared in the door frame behind her, and first Jesse thought it was a hallucination, but then the person started to speak.

"You're getting careless, ma chere." The man stepped into the living room, and horrified, Jesse recognized Murdoc. He looked even scarier than on the picture Steve had showed them. And he didn't have the slightest resemblance to the woman on the other picture. "There were two cops down on the street who had followed your little lover. Don't worry, I cared for them. But what's this supposed to be? I thought you wanted to finish Doc Sloan first."

"I changed my plans", Sarah replied.

"You may change your plans when you're a fully approved HIT agent, but right now, you're my apprentice, and I'd like to know what you're doing."

While Murdoc and Sarah talked, Jesse felt how the shock brought some strength back into his body. Very well aware that this was his only change, he lunged towards the door.

He made it past Sarah, but Murdoc grabbed his neck with an astoundingly casual movement.

"Do you want to leave, Dr. Travis? I believe we haven't been acquainted yet. My name is Murdoc, your friend MacGyver might have told you about me." He laid an arm around Jesse's neck and squeezed so hard that Jesse could hardly breathe. The drug Sarah had injected him started to take effect, and he didn't have the strength to free himself. His sight blurred, and black spots seemed to erase the world outside. He struggled to come free, but Murdoc could easily hold him. Jesse felt his legs yield, and he was only kept standing by the killer. Then the world turned black, and although he didn't think that Murdoc had released him, Jesse fell.

* * *

MacGyver pushed the brake pedal, and the Ford he had rented stopped with screeching tyres.

When he got out, he saw a grey Chevy standing only a few feet away. He shook his head. This was so obviously a police car that he would have bet his Army Knife on it.

The car looked like it was equipped for an observation, and Mac concluded they were probably here for Jesse. He wondered why they were sitting here instead of guarding their protégée, so he went over to the Chevy and knocked on the window.

None of the two officers reacted. MacGyver frowned and tried the door on the driver's side. It opened easily.

"Hey folks", he said and bowed inside. "Are you sleeping?"

One small, clean hole in the forehead of each policeman told him that they hadn't just made a little break.

This meant Sarah had noticed Jesse's guardians and killed them. 'Let her still be here', he thought and ran towards the house. If she had already killed Jesse or taken him somewhere else, he wouldn't have a chance to save him.

* * *

Murdoc felt Jesse slacken in his grasp. He waited a few seconds, then he released him. The body dropped to the ground, and Murdoc looked at the young man for a moment.

"There you go", he then turned to Sarah. "I thought we had a good schedule, but now we'll have to take him first. What were you planning to do with him?"

Before Sarah could reply, steps approached on the corridor, and an instant later, MacGyver stood in the door frame.

Murdoc froze and stared at him; hate, surprise and evil joy were fighting for predominance in his mind. Finally, the satisfaction to have MacGyver alone and within reach succeeded.

He grinned. "Nice to see you."

"I wish I could say the same", MacGyver replied. "I hate to tell you this, but there's something on your cheek. Looks like loose skin, and I believe you'll actually lose it if you don't find a good moisture cream soon."

"Enough jokes", Murdoc said and pointed his gun at MacGyver. "I hate it when others change my plans, although having you here is not the worst turn in this plot. We were about to leave, maybe you want to join us."

"Nah, I'm very busy. Housework - you wouldn't believe how much dust can accumulate in an apartment within a single year."

"Don't push it." Murdoc pointed the gun at Jesse and cocked it. "You come with us, or your friend dies." He nodded, and Sarah went towards MacGyver.

"Search his pockets", Murdoc commanded.

Sarah emptied Mac's pockets and placed everything on the small table.

"Now take the duct tape and tie him up. Make sure he can't free himself."

Sarah did as he said, and when she was finished, Murdoc lifted Jesse up. Sarah now aimed her P99 at MacGyver, and together they went down the stairs.

* * *

Steve raced down the street, blessing the inventor of automatic transmission. Only with his left arm, he wouldn't have been able to drive at such a speed, steer, and shift gears at the same time.

Two cars were standing there which he recognized: the Chevy that had followed Jesse, and Jesse's own car. Then there was a rental car which had to belong to MacGyver.

Steve saw two figures in the Chevy and went over to see what they were doing, but when he had a closer look, he noticed they wouldn't be doing anything in the next time.

He pulled his gun, went to the house and started climbing the stairs, carefully checking every corner. When he went down the corridor to Sarah's apartment, he saw that the door stood open.

With a last big step, he entered the apartment, pointing his gun at the person who was standing there. It was an older, stocky man who was also carrying a pistol and stood with his back to Steve at the moment.

"Freeze!" Steve shouted.

The man turned around, lifting his gun. When he saw the badge at Steve's belt and then had a closer look at his face, he relaxed a bit and pointed the muzzle to the ground.

"You're Steve Sloan, right? Are you the reinforcement Mac was talking about?", he asked.

"Mac? What do you have to do with MacGyver? And why do you know me?" Steve lowered his pistol, but was still on the alert.

"My name is Pete Thornton, I work for the Phoenix Foundation. I believe we have talked on the phone before. Mac and I did some research today, and suddenly he rushed off to this apartment. I followed him, but when I arrived, I only found his things." He pointed at the table where the contents of MacGyver's pockets lay.

Steve put his gun at safety, and also Pete placed his pistol back into the shoulder holster.

"There's no blood", Pete said, "this should be a good sign. But I haven't found any trace as to where they might have gone."

"Do you think Sarah can have forced Jesse and MacGyver to go with her? I mean, she's alone, and even if she had a gun -"

"Apparently, she somehow managed to take them both with her, and the only thing I'd like to find out right now is if they're still alive, and where they are."

"You're right. But you said that there are no clues here."

Pete looked around. "Yes. I had hoped that MacGyver would leave us a hint where we can find them. But I didn't find anything. We should go down to the street. Maybe he marked the car or left a trace for us."

Steve followed Pete downstairs. "What exactly are we looking for?", he asked.

"I'm not sure", Pete replied. "Once he made a kind of smoke bomb and placed it on a car so that he could follow it, and one time, he attached a paint buck with a hole to another car. He always takes what he finds, so just look for everything which looks unusual."

They kept on searching for a while, but then Pete had to admit there was no trace they could follow.

"Okay, I think it's time for usual police work. I'll start a search for them, although I don't think we'll have much success. Could you go back to the Phoenix Foundation and try to get a profile or something of Sarah which could help us find out where she might be?"

Pete nodded. "I hope we'll find them in time."

"So do I."

Pete left for the Phoenix Foundation, and Steve went over to the Chevy. Bowing over one of the dead officers, he took the radio's microphone.

After he had informed the headquarters on what had happened and told them what to start the search for, he drove back to the beach house.

* * *

"What happened? Where's Jesse?", Amanda asked when he entered the house.

"I don't know. They weren't there, and MacGyver vanished, too. We only found all the stuff he uses to carry around in his pockets."

"We?", Mark asked.

"Yes, I met his friend Thornton. He's now trying to find out where they are, and I started a search."

"Isn't there anything else we can do?", Amanda wanted to know.

"I can't think of anything", Steve replied sadly.

Amanda switched the TV on to have at least a little bit of distraction while they were waiting for whatever Pete Thornton would find out. She zapped until she found the live broadcast of fireworks at Long Beach Harbor. She had no idea what they were celebrating again, but the sparkling lights drew her attention enough to make the tension bearable.

* * *

Sarah drove, and Murdoc carefully watched MacGyver who was sitting on the back seat.

"Will you now tell me where we are going?" Murdoc demanded.

"There's an empty warehouse at Long Beach Harbor, and I prepared a few things there."

They turned around a bend, and the harbour came in sight. Suddenly, Murdoc burst into laughter. "And I really was afraid you might give your friends a signal where you are. Look at this! No flare you can make would be able to beat this!"

From ships anchored in the ocean, fireworks shot up and lit the dark sky with colourful explosions. Golden and silver sparks spread like they were clouds of stars bursting and falling to Earth.



Soon they had reached the warehouse Sarah had talked about. They got out of the car, and with Sarah leading them, they went inside. MacGyver supported Jesse who slowly started to come to.

* * *

Sarah pointed at the closed door of a cold storage room. "That's it", she said. "I did some homework, and I hope you'll like it. It's a homage to your achievements."

A smile spread on Murdoc's face. "A homage? Don't think you could influence my decisions in this way, but it sounds like you thought of some nice little gimmicks. Maybe you want to prepare a few things. Meanwhile, I will take my old friend somewhere else until I have time for him. It would be a pity if he spoiled our little party."

He took MacGyver by his upper arm and dragged him out of the warehouse.

* * *

They entered an adjacent warehouse, and Murdoc led MacGyver to a small office in one corner.

He pushed him on a chair and looked around.

"Hmmm, now I need something to keep you from disturbing us. I would love to take care of you right now, but I'm afraid I have to supervise an exam first."

"Exam?"

"Yes, of course. Oh, you can't know that, I'm sorry. Sarah contacted me a few days ago, after she had killed Mark Keller. She thought this job was sufficient to be employed at HIT, but you know how demanding we are."

MacGyver showed with no movement that he had understood the allusion, but the Valley of Death was still too vivid in his memory.

Meanwhile, Murdoc seemed to have found something which satisfied him. He took a long rope which hung in a corner of the office, and cut it in half. With one of the ropes, he tied MacGyver to the chair. "Wait a minute", he then said, went out and returned with a jerrycan obviously filled with gasoline.

Whistling a tune, he tied one end of the other rope to the chair Mac was sitting on, and slung it over a hook that was attached to the ceiling.

Carefully watching Murdoc work, Mac said, "you wanted to tell me about the exam."

"Oh yes, Sarah. I offered her to work as her mentor. She has to pass a few tests, and I will either approve or deny her employment at HIT. You are not part of the exam, though. You're my fee."

"You're not cheap."

Murdoc laughed. "That's what I like about you - such a sunny nature. Too sad that you won't survive this night."

He went over to the wall and dropped the rope behind a pipe which ran along the wall on eye level. He scrutinized MacGyver. "How much do you weigh? 170 pounds? 175? Oh, never mind. This will do."

He picked a metal chest from the ground and tied the rope around it. Then he attached a match to the rope and pinned the matchbook to the wall right beside it.

"I feel like you when I do this", he chuckled. "Now tell me, MacGyver: you certainly know what I'm preparing here."

"Well", MacGyver said as he looked at the construction. "You're using this chest as a counterweight. If I stand up, the chest will drop to the ground, and the match will light. And you're probably going to add some thrill with the gas you brought."

"Another brilliant feature of yours - you're just so bright." Murdoc took the jerrycan, opened it and poured the content on the ground. Immediately the air filled with a biting smell. "The vapour will catch fire right away, and it'll get a bit warm in here, so I suggest you simply don't move." He placed the half-empty can between Mac's legs.

"Hey, we could talk about that", Mac said conciliatorily. "You needn't kill us."

"Oh, please. Do you really think you can talk me out of this?"

MacGyver shrugged. "I just can't kick the habit. A little chat can often cause astounding effects."

"Not this time, MacGyver." The smile vanished from Murdoc's face. "You're going to die. Tonight. Don't run away, I'll be right back."

Murdoc left, and Mac moved his hands. Of course he hadn't just made small talk. While he had been talking to Murdoc, he had scraped his wrists at an edge of the wooden chair he was tied to. As reliable as duct tape was, it had one feature he counted on at the moment: Once it had a rip, it was very easy to tear. And he was pretty sure he had created a nice little rip during the past minutes.

He crossed his fingers and strained his muscles. In the first few seconds, nothing happened, but then he heard the desired soft sound of tearing fabric. Soon he had managed to get the tape off his hands, and he started to fumble on the rope around his body.

Seconds later, he dropped the rope on the ground. Now he needed an idea how to defuse that little bomb Murdoc had improvised. He had different possibilities - he could either try to keep the chair on the ground, detach the chest from the rope, or make sure that the match wouldn't light when it was rubbed.

The last option seemed the most reliable to him. Mac looked at the wall, trying to guess how far it was away. Six, maybe seven feet. Close enough to try something he had done last when he had been a kid. He concentrated for a second, aimed and spat at the match. Of course, he didn't hit. He had to stifle a grin when he thought what kind of image this had to be for a casual spectator. However, he didn't have a choice. Correcting the angle, he started a second attempt. This time, he actually hit the match-head. Deciding that he wouldn't try his luck, he spat on the match until his mouth was as dry as the Sahara, and the small wooden splinter was completely soaked.

Mac closed his eyes, took a deep breath and stood up.

When he didn't feel any flames stroke his body, he dared to open one eye. The chest had tumbled to the ground, but the match hadn't caught fire.

With a relieved sigh, Mac looked around.

He thought for a moment and then picked up the torn duct tape. After all, he might need it later on.

Then he saw a small tomato shrub which was actually carrying fruits. The manager of this warehouse had really made his office a comfortable place. Mac went over to the shrub and took a tomato. After all, he hadn't had supper yet, and he had also skipped lunch. Still chewing on the fruit, he took another one and put it into his pocket. Who knew how long this evening would be?

Now he had to hurry. He had to call help and find a way to save Jesse from these two lunatics. Of course Jesse's rescue was much more urgent, but he needed a plan.

First of all, he left the office and sneaked through the warehouse. The roll gate was wide open. Outside, the fireworks were still illuminating the sky so that creating a flare wouldn't be of any use, but the smoke which filled the air gave him an idea.

He quickly searched the warehouse and found what he had been looking for: a narrow metal pipe, some rusty screws, two old flares, a metal plate, and even a searchlight which probably had belonged on a ship once. All he needed now was some kind of generator to get the searchlight running.

As this warehouse wasn't deserted, he soon found a small portable generator used to feed the emergency lights. A short check showed that the searchlight worked, and satisfied, MacGyver started to work. He filled the pipe with a substance he took out of the flares, and shavings he had scratched off the screws, and stuffed it a bit. He hesitated and regarded the metal plate for a second, considering what exactly he wanted to do. Then a broad grin spread on his face. He lighted his improvised cutting torch and started to cut the metal plate.

When he was satisfied with his work, he started carrying everything outside. He attached the metal plate to the front of the searchlight and connected it to the generator.

"Now show me a nice clear image", he murmured, adjusted the headlight and switched it on.

* * *

Amanda yawned. The fireworks started to bore her, and although she was anxiously waiting for news, the monotonous sparkling lulled her to sleep. Even the female off voice commenting the event couldn't make the show more interesting.

Then the camera panned and showed a bright circle illuminating a smoke cloud produced by the fireworks.

"And what do we have here?", the voice commented. "It almost looks like somebody was calling Batman here. I'm afraid he won't be very successful - this isn't exactly Gotham city, friends."

Amanda turned the TV louder and stared at the screen. "Mark? Would you please come over here and have a look at this?"

Mark approached her. "What is it?"

Amanda pointed at the TV set. "Does this seem familiar to you?"

"Apparently, somebody hasn't watched the movies very carefully", the voice on TV continued. "I don't know what this is supposed to be, but it certainly isn't a bat."

"No, certainly not", Mark said, smiling as he had a closer look at the light beam. The picture which appeared on the cloud showed a dark oval with a bright cross in it. "This is a Swiss Army Knife."

Steve joined them and gazed at the picture. "I can't believe it, he's actually giving us a sign."

He rushed over to the phone and called the Phoenix Foundation. "Mr. Thornton? Are you watching channel 29? Yes, we're on our way there." He hung up and turned to Mark and Amanda. "Somebody already told him. I believe I can't keep you from coming with me?"

"What do you expect?"

"Okay, let's go."

* * *

Sarah waved Murdoc over to her. "Come on, you'll have a much better view from here."

Murdoc followed her into the warehouse's office. A monitor stood there, its screen glowing with a blue light. It showed the inside of the cold storage room, where Jesse sat tied to a chair.

He still looked dizzy, but glanced around with fear shimmering in his eyes.

"Well then, tell me what you prepared here", Murdoc said.

"As you can see, I fixed the victim on a chair. What you don't see are the light beams around him. They are the trigger for a little bomb that is placed right below his chair. If he manages to come loose and interrupts one of the rays, he'll be torn to pieces."

"But of course you're not going to wait until he frees himself."

"Of course not. The room is filling with carbon dioxide and nitrogen. I had thought of water, but it would have ruined the cute idea with the light beam trigger. I wish I had had access to something more painful, but I didn't have as much time for preparation as I would have liked to. This way, we can only hope he'll try to get free, which would give us some nice fireworks to watch."

"What's with the pit and the small suspension bridge?"

"I prepared that just in case somebody would try and free Jesse from outside. I welded the door shut while you were away, and the only way inside is a hatch in the ceiling. To get over to Jesse, this person would have to cross the bridge. The funny thing is the acid in the pit - can you tell it's easier to get whole barrels with sulphuric acid than a single bottle with some poisonous gas?"

"I hope you have done something about the bridge as well?"

Sarah smiled. "Of course. But I'm afraid this effort was futile, as nobody will be here to try and cross it."

"Oh", Murdoc shook his head, "I'm not so sure about this. You know, I made it quite easy for MacGyver to escape, as I know that he'll try to save his friend. Maybe you will see your idea put into action."

* * *

After he had set his signal off, MacGyver slunk over to the warehouse where Sarah had brought Jesse.

The gate was closed and locked, and it looked like there was no window open. Apparently it was time to overcome his hypsophobia again and try to enter through the flat roof.

Mac circled the building and soon found some empty barrels he could use to climb up on the roof. The only way in he could make out was a hatch which stood half open.

He lay down beside the hatch and carefully looked inside. The first thing he saw was that the hatch apparently only led into a cold storage room, but then he recognized Jesse who limply sat on a chair on the other end of the room. After he had checked that there was nobody waiting for him inside, Mac climbed through the hatch and dropped to the ground inside the room.

The ceiling was about twelve feet from the ground, and although Mac did his best to soften the impact, his ankles protested against the rough treatment. With a hiss, he briefly checked if there was something broken, and then got on his feet.

"Hey Jess! Jesse! Are you okay?"

Jesse lifted his head. "Mac! How did you get here?"

MacGyver pointed at the hatch. "Just dropped by", he grinned. "What's all this here?" he then continued. "A bridge? And why did she lock you in here?"

"I'm not sure, I didn't see everything she did. She poured some liquid on the bridge, and I know that I'm sitting on some kind of bomb."

"Oh my, this is exactly the kind of death trap Murdoc would think of. She's really trying to impress him."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind. We have to get out of here before they notice that something's not going as they want it to. Do you know if there's a time fuse at the bomb?"

"Wait a minute", Jesse said sarcastically. "Just let me free myself, and I'll have a look."

"Okay, that was a dumb question. Just stay where you are, I'll come over and have a look at this."

* * *

"Here we go", Sarah said. "The boy scout's coming to the rescue. Let's see if he notices it."

"It's a pity", Murdoc remarked. "I really wanted to kill him on my own, and now he's about to die in my apprentice's exam work. I'd like to get him out of there, just to have some more fun with him, but this would spoil your efforts. Oh well, maybe he'll even make it."

* * *

Mac went to the bridge and regarded it. Wooden planks, nothing conspicuous. Carefully, he set one foot on the first plank. It made a creaking sound, but nothing else happened. The next step - and the plank broke. Mac's left foot didn't find a hold, and he had almost fallen off the bridge. Only with a daring turn he managed to fall backwards on solid ground.

The debris of the plank dropped into the liquid filling the pit below the bridge. Immediately, bubbles rose, and a sharp hiss originated from the spot where the wood had sunk.

"Damn!", MacGyver shouted. This pit was filled with acid, and Sarah had obviously prepared some of the bridge's planks. They were made of wood - this gave him an idea.

He reached into his pocket and took the tomato out he had taken with him. He took a bite and then held the rest over the third plank. When the pale red juice dropped on the wood, white crystals appeared and formed little clusters. Yeah, just like he had thought. Sarah had soaked some of the planks with lye, strong enough to make the old wood rotten. Now it was up to him to find out which ones were safe to cross.

Slowly, Mac made his way across the bridge, always checking the planks with the tomato juice before he stepped on them.

When he had reached the other side, he heaved a deep sigh. This little excursion was already tiring him more than a hike in the mountains. He yawned. What was this? He shouldn't be so tired, even after a day which had been as long as this one.

"Jesse? Have you noticed that your breath is going faster, and do you feel exhausted and tired?"

"Yes - I thought it was an effect of the drug Sarah gave me. Why?"

"Same with me. Feels like a lack of oxygen."

Jesse blinked. "Do you think they're flooding the room with some sort of gas?"

"Probably. We should really hurry up. Okay, don't move. I'll have a look at that bomb."

He kneeled down and eyed the mechanism. There was no sign of a time or pressure fuse, but a wire led to the wall.

"Shit!" He winced back when he saw the tiny red eyes in the wall - clear signs of a light barrier.

"What is it?", Jesse asked.

"If I were you, I wouldn't move too much. See this?" He picked up a handful of dust from the ground and blew it from his palm. Three red rays of light appeared, leading from one wall to the other.

"Oh great. What now?"

"I don't see a way to divert the rays. No reflecting material in sight, nothing I could work with. But the highest beam is about four feet from the ground. With a little stunt, I should be right over on your side."

"I just hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I, believe me." Mac stepped back until he stood at the edge of the pit. Then he started a short run-up and jumped. He made it over the red rays and flopped to the ground on the other side. "Ouch. That hurt", he commented.

"I bet. You should work on your dismount. But I'd give you a six for the jump itself."

Mac stood up and started to loosen the rope with which Jesse was tied to the chair. "We should try and find a way out of here", he said. "And we should find it soon."

Jesse rubbed his temples. "I suppose we can't just climb up to that hatch?"

"No. Way too high."

They stood there, breathing more heavily each second. There was almost no oxygen left in the room, and thinking became a physical strain.

"Hey, what about this bomb?", Jesse asked. "If we can get it to the door, we could blow it open."

Mac gazed at him. "Clever boy. Whenever I see a bomb, I only think about how to defuse it." He smiled. "Now let's see if we can use it for our purposes."

Carefully, he took the bomb and carried it towards the door. "The wire is too short", he noticed. "But maybe I can -" he reached into his pocket, but didn't find his knife. Then he remembered that Sarah had emptied his pockets.

"Looking for this?" Jesse offered him a Swiss Army Knife. Mac stared at it in astonishment until he remembered that he himself had given it to Jesse.

"Cool, thanks." After a short examination, Mac had discovered some dead wires and used them to lengthen the connection to the light beams.

Then he placed the bomb right in front of the door and wedged it in place with the chair.

"Okay", he said and gave the knife back to Jesse. "I don't have a idea what force this bomb has. We should try and get as far away from the door as possible."

They went over to the light beams.

"Rule number one", MacGyver continued, "offer as little surface as possible. On three, we cross the beams, which will trigger the bomb. Drop to the ground and crouch, and -"

"Can we just do it? I survived an explosion before, and we're really running out of air."

"Yeah. Well then, one, two…"

"Wait! Did you mean *on* three, or three and then go?"

Mac looked at Jesse and shook his head. "Why do I feel like I was in the wrong movie? Let's just say on three, okay? One, two and - go!" He pushed Jesse forward and followed with a large leap.

They dropped to the ground and curled up, each of them covering his face with his arms.

Before they had hit the concrete, the bomb blew up.

* * *

Steve, Mark and Amanda arrived at the harbour.

"Where shall we search for them?", Amanda asked in despair. "Here are dozens of ships, and even more warehouses. They could be anywhere."

"Let's follow this light beam to its source", Mark suggested. "If MacGyver set off this signal, he's probably not far."

Steve steered the car along the piers until they found the searchlight.

"They must be in this warehouse", Amanda said excited.

"With the door wide open?" Steve shook his head. "Okay, I'll go inside. You stay here."

He got out of the car and sneaked into the building, checking left and right. Two minutes later, when Mark was already getting nervous, he returned.

"There is some weird construction in the office, and it smelled like gasoline, but there was no trace of Jesse and Mac or the two psychos."

"Let's hope they are still around", Mark replied. "Son, I know that you don't like this idea, but we should split up. I promise that we won't do anything when we find them but wait for you."

"Yeah, sure. Dad, you're right. I absolutely don't like this idea - but if we want to find them, we don't have a choice. At least promise that you two stay together. I don't want you to run around here all alone."

"Okay." Mark and Amanda set off and turned around the corner of the warehouse.

Steve looked after them, a very unpleasant feeling spreading in his stomach. He truly hoped he would be the one to find their friends.

He went into the direction opposite of that Amanda and his father had taken.

He had not even walked 20 feet when he heard a mighty bang in the warehouse he was just passing. He spun around, but couldn't see anything as the gate was closed.

He decided not to waste any time by thinking of a witty way to get into the building, but ran back to Mark's car.

He started it, pushed the gas pedal down and headed straight towards the gate.

* * *

An unbearably hot shock wave roared through the room. Jesse cried out in agony as his skin and hair were scorched and the pressure seemed to make his head burst, but the din was so loud that he didn't even hear his own voice.

In the next instant, a dull silence filled the room. Jesse carefully lifted his head and looked up. Beside him, MacGyver rolled over to his side, moaning as he regarded his hands and forearms.

"First and second degree burns", Jesse diagnosed quickly. "Should be alright in a few days. Hey look, the door's open!"

Mac looked at the door, or rather at the empty space where the door had been. It had been torn completely out of the hinges and was lying about ten feet away from the cold storage room.

"What a blast", Jesse commented.

"Yeah. Now let's get out of here. Sarah and Murdoc must have heard this, and I don't want them to receive us when we come out."

"What a pity", a voice remarked from outside. "Plans just don't always work like they're supposed to." Murdoc stood there, pointing his pistol at Mac and Jesse. "I take it that we have to think of something else to get rid of you."

Sarah appeared beside him. "Okay, Ladies. Come on, get moving."

Jesse and Mac reluctantly left the storage room.

Murdoc regarded them. "Medium, just the way I like it." He uttered a humourless laugh. "So, what are we going to do with you now?"

In this instant, a loud crash sounded from the gate, and it burst open with violent force. A black car dashed towards them and stopped only a few feet away.

Steve got out, his right arm useless at his side, his left hand holding the pistol. "Go ahead, make my day!", he shouted. "If you move, you'll find your brain on the wall!"

Murdoc gazed at him. "Sloan? You're really hard to kill. Sarah, my dear -" he lifted his gun, "I believe you forgot to tell me something." He aimed at her, and Steve made a few steps forward.

"Murdoc! Drop it!" Steve cocked his pistol.

"On the other hand -" Murdoc pointed the muzzle to the ground, "we should hold together." With a movement which was too quick to follow, he turned towards Steve and pulled the trigger.

Steve reacted faster than he had ever thought he could. He dived behind the car, and the bullet hit the ground, striking sparks off the concrete. Steve uttered an angry curse when he felt his broken ribs crunch, then he stood up, seeking cover behind the car.

"Okay, cut it out!", Sarah shouted. She drew something out of her pocket. "Attention, everybody. Do you see this? This building is stuffed with explosives and inflammable substances of all kinds. I'm holding the fuse in my hand, and if one of you makes *one* false move, I'll flatten the warehouse with everybody in it."

Murdoc raised an eyebrow. "And when were you going to tell me this? Or did you intend to go for a little walk and leave me here meanwhile?"

Sarah shrugged. "I thought my chances for a job would be better if there was a position vacant."

"You're so sweet", Murdoc laughed. "I love initiative. But don't worry - although your work wasn't very successful, I noticed talent, ambition, wit and commitment. Consider yourself hired."

"Sorry to interrupt your little chat", Steve said, "but I really don't believe you're going to blow yourself up. MacGyver, Jesse, come over here. She won't release the bomb."

Mac and Jesse hesitated, but then slowly followed Steve's order.

Another shot sounded, and Jesse yelled and dropped to the ground, holding his leg. Blood dropped from his thigh and soon formed a small pool on the ground.

Murdoc grinned. "I wouldn't recommend anybody to try and walk out of this warehouse. You see, nasty accidents can happen on the way."

"Bastard!" Steve aimed at Murdoc, but he pointed his gun at Jesse.

"Don't even think about it, or he's dead."

MacGyver kneeled down beside Jesse. "How serious is it?"

Jesse regarded his thigh. "It's a flesh wound, but the bullet tore an artery. Hell, that hurts!" He pressed two fingers on the wound. "I have to stop the bleeding somehow."

"Here, take my belt. Wait, I'll help you."

They wound MacGyver's belt around Jesse's leg and pulled it tight. "You okay?", Mac asked.

"No. But this should do for a few minutes."

Mac looked around and recognized that they had a stalemate situation. Steve was in a safe position behind the car, and he could easily shoot at Sarah and Murdoc. On the other hand, Steve couldn't shoot them both at a time, and Mac and Jesse would be dead within seconds if he tried. In addition, there was still the bomb Sarah had talked about. Mac didn't believe she'd really release it, but he wouldn't place bets on that if she panicked.

Murdoc had realized this as well. "So, are we going to stand here until somebody is courageous enough to do something?"

"Looks like I'm the one to do something!" This was Pete's voice. He was standing at the remains of the gate, his pistol in firing position.

Without hesitating, Sarah fired at him, but missed. Two more cracks sounded when Steve and Pete shot at her. One bullet hit her in the left arm, the other one in the chest. With a coughing cry, she dropped to the ground.

Immediately, Murdoc jumped forward. He grabbed Jesse's collar and dragged him to his feet. Using him as a shield, he backed towards the storage room. "Thornton! Please, join Mr. Sloan at the car."

Pete clenched his teeth, but obeyed.

"Oh, and please drop your gun. We don't want anybody to be hurt, do we?"

With a metallic click, Pete's pistol tumbled on the concrete.

"Officer Sloan?"

Also Steve dropped his gun, giving Murdoc a piercing look.

Murdoc dragged Jesse towards the gate and had almost passed the car when a loud click made him hesitate.

"Hey Murdoc", Sarah panted. "What's this - are you going to leave me here?" Without waiting for a reply, she pulled the trigger.

Surprise in his eyes, he turned around. Then he suddenly let go of Jesse and stumbled a few steps forward. A dark red spot started to spread on his back, and he fell to his knees.

"And now, friends", Sarah coughed, blood dripping from her lips, "the big showdown."

MacGyver realized what she was about to do and wanted to grab the fuse she reached for, but he was too slow.

Sarah pressed a small blue button on the device she was holding, and suddenly Hell broke out. Along the walls, explosions made the floor shake, and within a second, the whole building seemed to be on fire.

"Out!", Steve shouted, rushing over to Jesse. He lifted him up and slung him over his shoulder. Then he turned to MacGyver who helplessly looked at Sarah. She was lying flat on her back now, but pointed her P99 at him.

"Don't you touch me", she whispered.

"Move it!", Steve yelled. "Or do you want to be broiled?"

Mac uttered an inarticulate sound and followed Steve who was already sprinting outside. Pete joined them, and while more explosions went off, and the building started to collapse, they ran for their lives.

Red-hot metal plates crashed to the ground all around them, and the walls already started to break down. When they were outside, Pete stopped, but MacGyver pushed him forward.

"Come on, this thing's gonna blow up each second!"

"And what do you call this?"

"Foreplay. Now get going!"

They kept on running, trying to get as much distance between them and the warehouse as possible. They had hardly sought cover behind another building when a deafening bang accompanied the largest darting flame they had ever seen. Debris of the warehouse rained down, and shreds and pieces of metal clattered as they hit the ground.

The force of the explosion had almost extinguished the fire; only small flames licked at the remains of the warehouse.

It was so silent that it seemed like someone had just muted the world.

Then steps approached, and Mark and Amanda came dashing around the corner.

"Oh my God", Amanda cried out. "What happened? Are you okay?"

Steve gave her a crooked grin. "No work for you today."

"Not in my capacity as a pathologist." She examined Jesse's leg, and Mark checked the burns and cuts the four had all over their bodies.

"You'll all survive it", Mark said. "What about Murdoc and Sarah?"

Steve pointed at the smouldering ruin. "They were in there."

Mark nodded. "I believe we needn't worry about them any longer."

From afar, they heard sirens which quickly came closer. Soon the police, fire engines and ambulances arrived.

* * *

Two days later, they all met in the BBQ Bob's for dinner.

Jesse came limped out of the kitchen on crutches, his hands bandaged like Mac's. On both men's faces, burned skin started to peel off.

Pete regarded Mac, a content smile on his face. "And I thought I'd never be able to talk you into a hair-cut."

MacGyver ran a hand through his stubbly short hair. "Hey, I didn't have a choice, it was scorched almost down to the skin. Don't think I'll keep it this way."

"You could almost be looked upon as twins now", Amanda grinned, looking at Mac and Jesse.

Jesse dropped on a chair. "And I completely agree with my new brother. Nobody will ever make me have my hair cut so short again."

Mark and Steve joined them at the table. "Dinner's almost ready", Mark said cheerfully.

"And of course you had to add your own ingredients again", Steve lamented.

"Oh come on", Amanda said. "Give it a try. Don't hamburgers bore you?"

"Actually I really like an old-fashioned hamburger every now and then."

"Well, tonight's dinner is Italian. First a nice minestrone, next pasta with seafood, and for dessert, our fabulous tiramisu."

"I thought there was the word 'barbeque' somewhere in the name of this restaurant", Steve mumbled.

"Hey, where did your sense for adventures go?", Mark asked.

"I must have lost it somewhere between Marina Del Rey and Long Beach Harbor."

"Just try it", Jesse said. "You'll see, it's great."

Their dishes were brought, and after Steve had overcome his distrust, he enjoyed the unusual food and even had a second serving of the seafood with Mark's special zest.

"Sorry to bring this up during dinner, but what about the warehouse?", Jesse asked Amanda. "What did you find?"

Amanda swallowed. "Well, the fire was extremely hot. Probably hot enough to burn a human body to ashes."

"Does that mean you didn't find anything?", Mac asked. "No trace of a human body?"

Amanda shook her head. "But this doesn't mean anything", she hastily added. "As I said, there might be nothing left of them but a small heap of dust."

"Probably, that's what you said", MacGyver replied.

"I'm sure", she said, her face belying her words.

"This discussion won't help us", Mark said calmly. "We shouldn't worry too much. If they're still alive, they will need quite a time to get on their feet, and after all, we have proved that we're a great team. Just in case they come back, we know that we can rely on each other."

"Yeah", Steve said. "Car bombs, poison, acid, gas, bullets and more bombs - if we survived this, it'll take more than two psychopaths with sick ideas to kill us."

"Talking about pleasant recreational activities", Jesse mentioned and turned to MacGyver. "Did you get a few more days off?"

"Yup. I have a whole week of holidays."

Pete shook his head. "And you could have had two. You need some time to recover, Mac."

"Oh Pete, considering my last holidays, one week is more than enough. I'll relax when I'm back to work."

Jesse grinned. "Okay, and what are you going to do in the next week? Enjoying California's sun?"

Mac carefully touched his face. "If I do this, you can really sell me as a broiled chicken. No, I think I'll spend the week somewhere in Montana, fishing and hiking in the mountains."

"Sounds great", Steve commented. "Hey Dad, I also have a few days off. How does Utah sound?"

"Fantastic."

Jesse regarded his leg. "No hiking for me this time", he said. Then his face lit up. "Hey Amanda, there's a country music festival in San Francisco this weekend. Would you like to join me? Billy Ray Cyrus will be there, and I'm sure we can get backstage tickets."

"If I would -? Yes, of course! But promise me that I'll get a white Stetson."

"With a red feather and a snake skin ribbon?"

"Wouldn't go without."

"Okay", Jesse smiled. "And you help me collect autographs. You're just better in these things than I am."

"It's a deal." Amanda lifted her glass and took a sip.

A young man with a UPS jacket and hat entered the restaurant and went to the counter. "A letter for Mr. Travis?", he said.

Cynthia pointed at the table. The young man approached it and cleared his throat. "Mr. Travis?"

"That would be me", Jesse replied.

"A letter for you. Would you please sign here?" He handed him a clipboard and a ball pen.

Jesse scribbled his name in the intended field and gave the clipboard back to the man. Then he took the envelope and friendly nodded the deliverer goodbye.

"What's this?", Amanda asked.

"I have no idea. It's from Kansas. I don't think I know anyone in Kansas." Jesse tore the envelope open and looked inside. First he didn't see anything, but when he turned the envelope around, a little matchbook fell on his palm.

"Matches?" Steve frowned. "No letter?"

Jesse shook his head and swallowed. "Only the matches."

"Why would anyone send you matches?", Amanda wanted to know.

Mark rubbed his forehead. "The only idea that comes to my mind right now is one I don't like at all."

"Sarah - or Murdoc", Pete stated.

"Oh, no, no, no", Jesse contradicted. They can't have survived. They were both shot, and the warehouse exploded with them inside. They're charcoal."

"Which would mean that this is some bad joke by somebody who knows what happened", MacGyver said.

"A very bad joke", Amanda added.

Jesse regarded the matches. "But definitely a joke."

"Definitely", Steve confirmed, his voice not really convincing.

One after another, they all repeated this single word like it was a spell which would work if they only said it often enough.

"Definitely."

* * *