She only used him for his 1965 Lincoln Continental.

Not for his M.I.T. education. Or his fluency in Italian, Ukranian or Mandarin. Or for his access to the locked safe hidden in the back office. No, Nikki Carpenter was a woman of impulse; she had the means at her disposable to obtain whatever she wanted and didn't much care for the devastation left in her wake once her desire was achieved. Angus MacGyver had no way of knowing the extent his life would change after his brief encounter with the petite blonde…but instinct told him it was about to get complicated. And considerably more dangerous.

Mac stretched and rubbed a hand over his face. The action provided a welcome respite from the harsh glow of the computer screen. Ordering parts and completing electronic paperwork were some of the most monotonous and unglamorous parts of his job…well, if you could call the duties associated with a mechanic anywhere near glamorous. A glance at the clock affixed above the entrance made him groan. Six o'clock already. Official closing had been one hour ago, though he'd stayed later the past few nights to make up for the loss of manpower. Running a two man show single-handedly was turning out to be more difficult than he'd originally thought. He couldn't wait for Bozer to get back from whatever film convention he'd up and run off to so they could get their customers' repairs done a little more timely.

And, yes, it would be nice to have extra time leftover to continue working on his father's pride and joy. Just a couple more adjustments and the beast would be purring like the day it was taken off the lot. The classic automobile looked sleek under the flickering fluorescents, but it wouldn't truly shine until it was allowed to roam free under a blazing sun over miles of uninterrupted roadway. He'd been trying to save the first drive after its restoration for his father's return, but fifteen years was a long time and he was tired of waiting for a reunion that would likely never happen. Bozer, his best friend since childhood, had stuck with him through everything and deserved this experience. Mac chuckled as he imagined his buddy's face when he surprised him with the impromptu roadtrip; that is, after their work was caught up and the finishing touches were completed on the '65 beauty.

An even tapping sound broke him from his reverie, causing him to turn toward the entrance of the shop. A young, platinum blonde woman glanced at him from the other side of the transparent door and waved as he jumped from his chair and headed in her direction. The five steps it took to reach her were enough for him to realize something felt a little off. Her clothing was immaculate—business professional—which was odd considering the time of night. Her posture exuded power and confidence; not the sort of attitude he typically encountered when assisting those involved in an accident. All in all, she looked out-of-place outside the small repair shop, and her smile did little in the way of reassurance. But…he didn't actually see any noticeable threat and he couldn't, in good conscience, leave someone outside in near frigid temperatures. He fumbled slightly with the key ring clipped to his belt loop and unlocked the door. The woman didn't immediately enter.

"I apologize for bothering you so late. But the other shops were closed," she said sweetly. Mac held the door open for her and waved the blonde through. She strode forward gracefully, high-heeled shoes not missing a beat as she traversed from loose gravel to slightly smudged linoleum. "Not a problem, ma'am. I was just finishing some things up." A crisp, autumn breeze drifted inward and Mac shivered involuntarily against the chill. He closed the door before addressing her again. Simple blouse, pencil skirt, no jacket. Why wasn't she wearing something warmer? "Getting cold out there. Anyways, what can I do for you?"

The blonde stood erect and offered her hand graciously. "Nikki. Nikki Carpenter."

Mac blushed slightly and took her hand in his. "Uh, yeah, sorry. Angus MacGyver, but everyone calls me Mac." He shook her hand quickly and was just starting to relax his grip when hers tightened almost painfully. Her blue eyes pierced his own with a strange intensity.

"I'm in need of assistance. And I believe you're just the man to help me."

Mac delicately pulled away from her, trying not to be rude. "If you need to make a phone call, we've still got a landline," he indicated the outdated phone sitting obtrusively on the corner of the front desk, "or you can use my cell phone." He fished the device out of his front coverall pocket and swiped his thumb across the screen. A film of grease followed the movement. "Well, it's a bit dirty but still in fine condition. I'm usually on call, so it tends to come with me during repairs."

"Oh, there's no need for that." She chuckled softly, though the niceties were beginning to feel forced. He rather felt like he was being talked down to and her sudden appearance was starting to become unsettling. Mac clutched his phone a little tighter, the small device providing a modicum of comfort in his calloused palm. "Not sure what exactly I can assist you with at such a late hour…unless you're referring to a tow? We don't personally have a towing service available, but we'll work directly with the company of your choice—"

"I don't need a tow. Or repairs. I'd like a car." Nikki's expression remained unchanged, like a porcelain doll. It was unnerving.

"Okay…well, I'm sorry to inconvenience you, but this is an auto repair shop. There's a used dealership not far from here, but you'll have to go to the next town over if you want something other than Ford—"

Nikki walked purposefully to the left, her path taking her toward the interior garage entrance. "I'd like more of a statement piece. Like that pretty little Lincoln you've got hidden away."

Mac's friendly demeanor froze. "Not for sale." The blonde laughed again and he grit his teeth in barely veiled anger. The silent alarms in his head were blaring now.

"It makes no difference whether you're willing to sell the vehicle to me or not. I am accustomed to getting what I want and this time is no exception." Her stride barely wavered as she continued toward her destination, turning her back to him. Unwilling to use physical force, Mac took the opportunity to activate lockdown procedures from an app on his phone in order to deter Nikki—if that was, indeed, her real name—from advancing further. Large metallic grates cascaded downward, blocking the way to the garage. The mechanism had actually been Bozer's idea; after a particularly scary encounter with an upset customer, he'd had the gates installed in the ceiling as an extra preventive measure. After some trial and error, Mac had been able to automate the system; Bozer then implemented the app for remote access. While the phone application didn't have the capabilites to alert the authorities, it wouldsend a text notification to Bozer.

"The police are on their way. Leave now, and I'll tell them I tripped the alarm by accident. Otherwise, I'll have them arrest you for attempted carjacking."

Nikki turned to face him. Amusement danced across her delicate features. "I don't believe you."

"Excuse me?"

"No one's coming for you. And there will be nothing to report even if you do somehow manage to attract someone's attention."

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"I'm not stealing your precious vehicle," the woman enunciated slowly, drinking in Mac's confused expression with a devilish smirk, "because you're going to give it to me."

Mac snarled in realization as her words hit home. "Mindbreaker."

"Good boy. I see you've heard of us." Her words were honeyed, sympathetic.

Of course he'd heard of Mindbreakers. His studies at M.I.T. had once delved deeply into the phenomena, until his interests pulled him away from neurology and into other—admittedly more exciting—biological fields. Mindbreakers were rare; the ability often skipped multiple generations. Mac could calculate Nikki's mental acuity with percentages and probabilities, but it more or less boiled down to one thing: if she could truly convince him to give her his most prized possession, then she was one of the most powerful Mindbreakers of the century. But that was impossible. Mindbreakers had the same limitations as hypnotists. They couldn't force you into submission against your will.

At least, not yet. But Mindbreakers were still dangerous when left unchecked. He decided to play along.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why not?"

Mac hesitated. Best keep her talking as long as possible. "Look, I'm just your average grease monkey. And that Lincoln back there hasn't even been out for a test drive."

She cocked an eyebrow. "So?"

"Humor me."

Nikki leaned against the grate and crossed her arms. "Maybe I'm just a lonely girl who happens to want an impressive vehicle." Her face hardened at Mac's derisive snort.

"Right. And maybe I star in Taylor Swift music videos."

"You're cute, I'll give you that. But you're not as funny as you think you are." Mac felt a dull ache blossom in the center of his forehead, behind his eyes. Was the Mindbreak happening already? He pushed the thoughts aside. So far all Nikki had done was talk big and dress inappropriately for the weather. His unwelcome guest was probably also bluffing about the strength of her ability.

"Look, like I said, the cops are on their way." And Bozer, Mac added silently. If his friend and co-worker left the conference immediately, he could be back within the hour. Mac didn't know if he could stall Nikki for that long, but he was certainly not letting that woman get anywhere near the last tangible bond he shared with his father. "But in the meantime, you can use the computer and we can find you another Lincoln Continental that's, you know, legitimately for sale—"

"Oh, come now," the blonde interrupted, her voice silken. "I suppose it's time to drop the act. You see, I'm not really in need of a vehicle. I just need to send a message. Something that can't be sent by conventional means."

"And stealing my car accomplishes this…how, exactly?" Nikki took a step toward Mac, who flinched as the throbbing in his head intensified. In fact, the pain continued to worsen as she closed the space between them.

"It's not just a car to you, though, is it?" She adopted a mocking tone, blue eyes twinkling like sharply cut diamonds. "He promised to restore it with you. The last memento of your long-lost father."

"Shut up!" The cell phone slipped from Mac's grip as he slammed his palm on the desk's surface.

"It's not a possession you would part with easily," she murmured, advancing slowly. "Which will make it all the more sweeter when it's mine." Each clack of her heels sent an aching bolt through Mac's skull as he struggled to remain standing. Shutting his eyes did nothing to mask the icy probes jabbing into his mind, but at least he was no longer subjected to the blonde's smug grin. He was all but defenseless against the mental assault and could only grimace as Nikki formed the cerebral bond against his will. It was no wonder the woman seemed impervious to the cold; her entire essencewas coated with a frostiness that pierced him from the inside out. Disoriented and weak, he fell to his knees, both palms rubbing his forehead. When would it end? When would it stop?Mac could do nothing but tremble uselessly from the pain and internal tempest as the Mindbreak took effect.

He barely registered when Nikki knelt before him and brushed the bangs away from his face. "That's it, Mac. You can't fight it."

He might've screamed. Mac wasn't quite sure of anything at the moment. He felt like someone had raked a wire brush through his brain then doused the wounds with liquid nitrogen.

"Don't be too hard on yourself," the voice boomed in his self-imposed darkness. "I expected as much from an average grease monkey." He couldn't escape the bond—which was becoming stronger every passing second—but at least the frost hadn't seeped into his own thoughts and memories. More like pushed everything to the wayside. Mac often joked with Bozer that his mind operated like rows of filing cabinets since he was so fond of compartmentalizing information. This way of thinking had helped him retain everything from the interesting to the mundane and now it may possibly hold the key to saving his rationality.

Within the darkness, Mac quickly checked on his filing cabinets that had been thrown out of their immaculate straight rows. Everything that still made him—well, him—appeared to be intact. He could recall what he ate for breakfast that morning and knew Bozer would soon be on his way from the conference. Mac released a shaky breath. Okay. He could handle this. This woman could do whatever she wished with him, but once she released him from her will at least he'd be able to piece the shambled fragments of his mind back together. The process might take a little while but eventually he'd organize everything back to his liking. No problem.

Nikki grasped his elbow and hoisted him up to his feet. Mac's legs followed puppetlike, but his eyes remained squeezed tightly shut. The disappointment in Nikki's voice was palpable. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't fight, Mac. Do I need to be more…persuasive?" Mac released a strangled sound that might've been an attempted comeback or simply a groan. Either way, it was indicative of his decision to battle the takeover with every fiber of his being. "Oh, my poor, sweet, Mac," the blonde chided softly. "I did warn you."

Mac cringed as the bond sizzled with energy and lashed out with a million glacial whips. The long tendrils created frozen puddles, ponds, oceansin their wake, coating the entire expanse of his mind with a thick snowy film. He tugged on the filing cabinet handles in vain; the glaze had frozen solid, making the cabinets impossible to open, effectively cutting him off from his memories. His friends. His basic survival instincts. Mac's intellectual, brilliant, scientific mind that had always been his source of pride had now become the bane of his existence. The Mindbreak was too strong. Even if the bond was eventually voided, the damage was done. Angus MacGyver, for all intents and purposes, was dead. Only a hollow shell remained, and even at that, his priority lay with his Mindbreaker's every whim.

"That's more like it. Now, you already know what I want. Disengage the gate. Make sure your Lincoln is in perfect working condition. And, seeing as you're already filthy, add a coat of wax." He didn't even nod. Orders had been issued. Nothing else mattered.