A/N: A while back, after I posted my other story Viper, Ridley C. James made the suggestion that I should turn these MacGyver military years into a series. So, I blame her for this. ;-).
This story picks right up where Viper left off. I thought about just adding chapters to that but the mission was over... It's not essential that you read Hogan's Alley or Viper but it would help with some of the background. BTW, I pretty much threw the military handbook out the widow with this one, apologies to any veterans, this is just for fun.
As always, a huge thanks goes to Dlwells51, she fixes everything I write, except my A/N's that are probably riddled with grammar and punctuation errors. She's got quite a few bits of her own original content in this one. I couldn't post without her.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything having to do with the TV show MacGyver.
0-0-0
Jack pulled the door open and was instantly hit by the wave of cool air. Quickly stepping inside, he let his eyes adjust from the blinding sun outside to the warmer softer glow of fluorescent lights that lined the ceiling of the field hospital.
He had spent the better part of the last forty eight hours in the tactical operations center monitoring the radio communications of his men. They had called in several air strikes since he and Mac had been medevac'd to the forward operating base.
Jack knew the staff in the TOC had everything under control, they were, after all, the best at what they did. He just felt the need to be there in some form or another for his men, even if it was just to listen and occasionally provide the staff with a better description of the area that had been designated as Viper Nest.
The original mission was to find and destroy a large weapons cache intelligence suspected might be in the area.
According to his guys, that leg of the op hadn't panned out. Now, they were sitting on top of a mountain calling in air strikes against the last of the hardened positions left in the canyon.
Jack suspected he'd see his men back on base sometime that evening.
He looked at his watch as he walked down the hall. The last time he had visited Mac he'd asked the nurse when the doctor was going to come by. At the time, she said she didn't know. By the time he left to go back to the TOC, the nurse told him that the doctor would be making his rounds at fourteen hundred hours.
Jack knocked once as he opened the door. "Hey man, you seen the doc yet?"
Mac looked up from the notepad he was writing in. "No, not yet." He watched from the chair as Jack walked in and Fosbury flopped into the bed and lay back with a long sigh. "Man I am beat."
"Have you even slept since you were here last night?" Mac gave Jack a stern look and pointed at Jack's wrist, "and you still haven't had that checked have you?"
Jack put his left hand behind his head and looked sideways at Mac. "I had to go to the TOC, Coop, Dunc and Pete were in the mix for a while, they should be back later tonight."
Mac had spent time with Boxer in the TOC once when Jack and the rest of the unit had been out on a mission that didn't require his expertise.
He knew from that experience that when a member of the unit was present in the TOC, unless they had pertinent intel, their role was more observer than active participant. Mac stood up, taking two long strides to stand in front of the locker that held spare linens and his clothes. "You had to do no such thing and you know it Jack! I swear, you are the most stubborn," he yanked his pants out, throwing them in the chair, "pigheaded," the shirt was next, "stupid son of a bitch," he grabbed his boots and socks. "I have ever met!"
"You planing on going some where?" Jack sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Knowing what had set Mac off, he looked down at his wrist, his hand had swollen and the bruising had traveled to his fingers.
Mac slammed his boots and socks on the floor, reached over and grabbed his pants, stepping in, hastily fastening the buttons and cinching the belt. He was taking his frustrations out on his wardrobe. "I'm getting out of here." Mac waved his hand around the room and picked up his shirt. "I've spent almost two days in this place..." he pulled his shirt on, and continued before his face had even cleared the collar. "...because I got hit by a damn rock!" Mac dropped into the chair and shook out his socks, bending over he yanked them onto his feet as he looked up at Jack. "If you don't need to be here after getting impaled by a freaking piece of metal..." Mac pulled his boot on, then stomped on the floor, "then I don't have to be here either!" Another boot, another stomp, causing Jack to cringe.
Jack raised his left hand, "Now wait a minute Mac, you had a damn rock stuck in your back, all the dirt too!" He held up his right hand, "I got hit by metal man, stuff was still hot so... no infection and I've been keeping it clean."
Mac looked up from tying his boots tighter than need be, the look on his face was somewhere between pissed, surprise and wonder at Jack's reasoning. "That's your argument?" He leaned back in the chair, now fully clothed and threw up his hands, "The metal was still hot? Jack you..." Mac's animated rebuttal was interrupted by a knock on the door as the Doctor walked in.
Jack noted the rank of Captain and his name tag said Morgan. Jack was a bit surprised by the doctor's age. He had become accustomed to seeing younger doctor's at the forward operating base, whereas this man had salt and pepper hair and looked to be in great shape judging by the way his uniform fit, he carried himself with confidence. On appearance alone, he had Jack's approval.
The doctor looked up from his chart, nodded to Mac, "Mac."
"Doc." Mac glanced up as he finished tying his boot.
The Doctor glanced from Mac to Jack who was still sitting on the bed and smirked. "So, which one of you is my patient today?"
Both men pointed at each other and said in unison, "He is!"
Jack shot Mac an annoyed look, pushing himself off the bed and heading for the door. "I gotta go, I'll catch up with you later Mac."
The Doctor watched the exchange and studied Jack with a practiced eye as he neared. "Hold on there soldier, who treated that hand?" He asked, placing a hand in the middle of Jack's chest stopping his forward progress.
Jack glanced at the man's hand before looking up and making eye contact. All manner of moves he could use on the man ran through his head in a flash. Weighing his options, he decided escape and evade was the best course of action.
Jack looked at his watch, "Look, Captain I've gotta head over to the TOC, have men in the field right now."
Mac made eye contact with Morgan and shook his head.
Mac knew the tactic, he'd seen Jack use it on several occasions.
Since most of the spec ops guys had beards and usually wore civilian clothes, everyone knew who they were simply by their appearance, they just didn't know who they were.
Jack was wearing his regular BDU pants with a faded burnt orange Texas Longhorns t-shirt.
Jack's SOP, was to address someone by their rank and make whatever he said sound like an order. Usually the other person, not knowing Jack's rank but understanding they were talking to a spec. ops guy, caved and did whatever Jack wanted.
Mac stood up, determined not to let Jack get away with it this time, only to stop when the Doctor stood his ground.
"I don't care who you think you are soldier but let me tell you what I see, then you can decide if you still want to leave."
Jack stepped back and cocked his head, trying his best to look perturbed.
"You see how that hand is swelling and your fingers are bruising?"
Jack rolled his eyes, "Of course I see it, it's my hand Doc. What's your point?" Jack changed tactics and fixed him with his most intimidating stare.
Mac walked back to the locker and grabbed a clear plastic bag that had the few personal belongings he carried with him in the field.
Dr. Morgan wasn't fazed by the Delta operator. "Well, I don't know what happened, but take a good look at it because if it goes untreated, I figure you and your hand there are going to be parting ways in a week or so."
Mac froze at the doctor's words. He'd known the injury was serious but he didn't really think it was that bad.
For the first time since he and Mac had arrived back on the base, Jack seemed to take the injury seriously and he looked... scared. It was a look Mac had only seen a few times, a look which he hated to admit, he was usually the one responsible for. "You really think it's that bad? I mean, it hurts but I figured it would heal up in a week or so."
Mac opened the bag and pulled the metal shard out and held it up for Morgan to see. "This is what was sticking through Jack's wrist."
Jack didn't even bother to look, he was still reeling from what the doctor had said. He'd known their job was high risk and the chances of him being killed didn't scare him, it went with the job description. But, losing his hand... that was something different, he couldn't be a soldier with one hand, at least not in the roll he was trained for.
Morgan raised his brow at the size of the shard. He looked at Jack, knowing by the soldier's reaction that his message was getting through. Instead of letting up, he pressed. "So, what'll it be? You want to get shipped home where everybody can call you lefty or do you want me to fix that thing so Uncle Sam can send you back out to defend the ole red white and blue?"
Jack sighed and glanced at Mac's worried face, moving to the bed and sitting down, shoulders slumped, he looked at Morgan. "When can you take a look at it?"
Morgan pointed to Mac, "As soon as I'm finished with Mac here, I'll walk you down to x-ray, get a look at what we're dealing with."
Jack sighed, "Alright, any idea how long I'll be out of commission?"
Morgan gestured for Mac to sit in the chair, "I won't know until I get the x-rays. You got a name or you want me to keep calling you soldier?"
"Name's Jack." He didn't offer a last name, Morgan didn't seem to mind, tossing Mac's file on the bed and turning towards the young man.
He leaned over Mac, "Let me get a look at that back of yours." Mac leaned forward so Morgan could lift his shirt.
"You've still got quite a bit of bruising, but the wound is healing nicely. Any pain?" He asked still probing the wound.
"No," Mac answered quickly. "I feel good, ready to get out of here as you can see." He waved a hand at his attire.
"How's the leg? Any problems walking?" Morgan asked still leaned over Mac's back.
"No, I can walk just fine." He said over his shoulder, hoping the few steps he took earlier would be proof enough.
Jack had resigned himself to the fact that he was going to have to deal with his wrist, he shoved those thoughts to the background and concentrated on what the doctor was saying to Mac.
Morgan stood, having probed the wound site. He waved an arm at Mac's attire. "Well, Mac, I think you got a bit ahead of yourself, think we'll keep you here a bit longer."
Now it was Mac's turn to look dejected and annoyed as he slumped in the chair.
Jack, stood up, instantly alert, "What's the problem?"
Dr. Morgan leaned over and picked up Mac's file. He glanced at Jack and flipped a page, pulling his pen from his front pocket. "Your friend here has a good size bruise on his back caused by the impact of the projectile."
"It was a rock, and not that big of one" Mac added.
"Right, well that rock hit hard enough to cause the wound and bruise the outside of your back, thing we can't see is what it did to the inside. I want to make sure you didn't injure your kidney." Morgan scribbled something in Mac's file.
Jack craned his neck to see what it was but sat back quickly as Morgan glanced at him.
Sighing, Morgan set the folder down on the bed and crossed his arms. "Look fellas, the Army has trained you to be gung ho all the time and you think the war can't go on without you. Well, I'm here to tell you that's not the case.
He pointed at Jack's wrist. "You could go out and I imagine you think you'd be just fine shooting lefty right?"
Jack looked down at the floor, a move that told Morgan he was right on track.
He turned to Mac, "And you, I've seen all the things you've been doing in here to keep yourself occupied, and I imagine you think you're ready to get back out there and rid the countryside of IED's."
Mac and Jack shared a look.
"Well, let me tell you how that would end. I let you boys out of here and you go out. Right now, both of you are combat ineffective. You not only put yourselves at risk, and judging by your service record Mac, that is a very distinct possibility, but you put your teammates at risk."
Morgan watched their body language, knowing he'd hit a nerve as both men sat up straight ready to deny his accusation. He cut them off with a wave of his hand. "I used to be you. I was with the unit."
Jack's eyebrows raised and he looked the Doctor up and down, re-evaluating him.
Morgan knew the look. "That's right son, I was one of you badass, thought I could handle anything, thought the team couldn't do without me types." He tapped a finger to his temple, "I know how you think. So listen to me when I say, I would love to send you back out but I won't, because you're not ready." He looked Jack in the eye, "Especially you. Unless you have some other career path planned, I suggest you resign yourself to the fact, you may be out of commission for a while."
Jack was the first to speak. "Why'd you leave the unit? You seem like you're still in shape, what gives?"
Morgan swung his right leg and tapped it against the metal bed frame, it clanged with each tap. He lifted his pant leg revealing the metal prosthetic, he winked. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."
Jack smirked, yeah, this guy definitely had his approval.
Morgan stood, picking Mac's file up off the bed. "Alright, enough about me, Mac, get comfortable, you're not going anywhere today. Jack, come with me. Let's go see how bad you screwed up your shooting hand." He held his arm out gesturing to Jack. "After you."
Jack looked at Mac in sympathy, he knew the younger man was ready to leave but who could argue with a doctor like Morgan. "I'll be back later bud."
Morgan harrumphed, "I wouldn't count on it. Mac, I'll come by later, let you know how it went."
"Thanks Doc, good luck Jack." Mac watched as Jack nervously walked out the door.
Morgan stopped in the doorway and turned to Mac. "Don't worry about your friend, he's not going to lose the hand, I suspect it's just broken. Probably end up with a cast, maybe a few stitches." He winked and tapped his temple. "Just have to know how these guys think, once you figure that out, you can get them to do just about anything they don't want to."
Mac smiled and laughed as Morgan walked out the door.
0-0-0
True to his word, Morgan returned several hours later. This time, wearing surgical scrubs.
"I see you didn't take my advice and get comfortable. You planning on going somewhere?"
Mac set the notebook down, "No, just finishing up a design I was working on, how's Jack?"
Morgan sat on the edge of the bed. "He'll be ok, there were fractures of the lunate and capitate bones" He indicated the area on his own wrist. "And some slight damage to a few tendons but overall, considering the size of that shard you've got, he's damn lucky it wasn't worse."
Some of the tension left Mac's shoulders, "Is he going to be ok? Any permanent damage?"
"He'll be able to return to duty in a while if that's what you're asking. We added a few small screws to reduce the fractures and the tendons weren't completely severed so they'll recover. He'll have some discomfort and develop arthritis eventually but overall, he'll be fine."
Mac was relieved, he had been sitting in his room unable to fully concentrate on what he was doing, looking up expectantly every time someone had walked by his door.
"Where is he? Did he go back to the barracks?" Mac wasn't sure if Jack was over the fact that he had essentially ratted him out to the doc when he showed him the metal shard.
"No, he's in recovery right now, I administered a mild sedative, didn't want him running off. We'll keep him overnight, probably cut him loose tomorrow morning." Morgan stood up, reached back and patted the bed. "Now, you young man, need to get out of those clothes and that chair and get back in this bed, or do I have to sedate you too?" He started for the door. "Dinner is coming around in a little while and after that, I want you to get some rest. Otherwise, I'm going to have to keep you here longer."
At that Mac started untying his boots. Morgan walked out the door, satisfied with himself. All you have to do is know how they think. He grinned.
To be continued...
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this.
This story is complete, just over 25k words. I just have to do a bit of editing and let Dlwells51 work her magic. There is a mission eventually and some action, but other than me just playing around with the guys, there's really no point to this other than me just having a bit of fun and playing with virtual army men. Fall can't get here fast enough, I'm definitely going through MacGyver withdrawals. ;-)
FF is giving me fits, saving anything over 4K words isn't working, so I have to split this up into smaller chapters. Ch. 2 & 3 will be coming along shortly.
-Gib-