***Ok, I lied. Ghost of a Chance is now simmering on the back burner. My muse agreed with you! LOL. This story picks up where Nightmares leaves off. Thank you for your input, favorites, and followings. The intrigue continues. If you have not read my other stories, a lot of this will make no sense, especially if you have not read 13 and Nightmares. Thanks, everybody, enjoy.****
PROLOGUE
Rook Island, NOW
It was worse than Cairo, not even a contest; Mac thought as he held his hand over his bleeding side and closed his eyes. He froze as he heard gravel trickle down from over the cave entrance. Damn. Mac leaned back into the shadows and forced his breathing to be quiet. His ears strained to hear over the crashing surf. It was getting dark out if he could hold on until then...and escape the oncoming high tide. Mac wiped sweat out of his eyes. He heard boots hit the entrance of the cave entrance. Shit. Mac bent gasping in pain and picked up the closest rock. Mac closed his eyes and prayed he wouldn't need it.
"Traitor." The painfully familiar voice hissed at the door. Mac blinked away tears as he braced himself. He knew the man wouldn't hesitate and he knew from first hand how deadly he could be. "MacGyver you're dead, hear me! Their deaths are on your head, and you're going to pay for every single one." Mac swallowed as the familiar step came closer if he would just walk past Mac enough for him to slip away...Mac heard a slide then was jerked out of his hiding hold. Mac cried out as fists like boulders walloped his head and torso. He jackknifed as a knee crashed into his wound. Hands let him go. Mac fell huffing for breath as he rolled over. The man looked down at him and cocked his head. Mac scrambled backward desperately looking for a way out. The man gave him a flat deadly glare and smiled a grim promise of a prolonged, painful death. The past two years have been the worst of Mac's life, but he thought as the man dragged him to standing, being hunted by your best friend and partner definitely blew everything else on the list to insignificance.
"Jack…" Mac gasped. Jack smiled and pulled Mac's face close.
"Traitor." Jack hissed as he slammed his forehead into Mac's face. Mac felt darkness seep across his vision…
Iowa, Two Weeks Ago
Mac pushed himself to his limits as he ran. He wouldn't be able to describe the maelstrom of emotions whirling around him. He'd almost killed a man, bad enough, but he enjoyed it. Mac paused putting his hands on either side of his sweaty head. He shook his head. It would be easy to blame it on continued effects of the Blue or pain of the past, but in his deepest heart, he knew that wasn't true. Mac walked past Meyer's farm. The couple waved at him from their garden. Mac waved back and started running again. Elmer and Fidget took a break to greet the pair then ran back to join Mac on his run. Mac ran another mile then stood with his hand on his knees breathing hard.
Jack had told him to go for a run frustrated with Mac's pacing. Only two of the invading soldiers and Dewayne Stratson remained alive. Unfortunately, they were also severely injured and remained unconscious. Jack had pulled the dead bodies and the living prisoners into the barn and was waiting for a chance to interrogate them. Both Mac and Jack were frantic with worry about their team and Phoenix after Matty's message 'Phoenix has fallen.' It was one phrase neither man had ever expected or wanted to hear. It was the equivalent of 'every man for himself.'
Mac reached the end of the road and started to walk back. He did feel better, the fear and worry folded back into their place. The two dogs ran up to him their tongues spraying drool everywhere as they hung out the side of the dog's mouth. Mac petted them and found himself talking baby talk to him. He stopped himself. It was undignified. Mac laughed and shook his head receiving a flurry of wet dog kisses. He felt lighter and more focused as he walked back. As they neared Meyer's farm, the dogs blocked his way and growled menacingly at the farm. Mac's gut fell. No one was in the garden and the hoe and rake the older couple had been using lay fallen on the ground.
"No," Mac whispered. He pushed past the dogs who seemed intent on keeping him from the property. Mac took two steps. He saw the flame before the wave hit him and threw him back over the dogs that crouched against the dirt road. Mac gasped as he hit hard and breath whooshed from him. He shook his head and ignored his discomfort. He wobbled to his knees. The house was engulfed in a mushroom of fire and black smoke. Natural gas explosion, Mac automatically cataloged.
He ducked as more matching explosions sounded behind the house. Mac sat back his shoulders slumped. The entire Meyer farm was gone. Mac's eyes widened, and he turned sprinting back to the farm where he and Jack were staying. Mac skidded to a halt breathing hard halfway down the front driveway. The dogs trailed him, exhausted. Mac was relieved to see no fire or smoke, but the place was too quiet. No insects buzzed, no birds chirping. Even the constant breeze seemed to hold its breath. Mac crept along the side of the house. He couldn't make out any new tire marks in the sand. He reached the edge of the house and scanned all the visible area. Nothing moved, and nothing seemed out of place. Mac glanced at the dogs. They looked uneasy but didn't growl. Mac ran to the barn and peered through the double doors. Mac's heart fell through the floor. All of the prisoners hung where they'd been restrained, but their throats had been slit. In the main section of the barn was visible signs of a brutal fight including several sprays of blood along walls and floor. Mac tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. He saw a glint of black metal under a barrel of fertilizer. Mac closed his eyes as he retrieved it. Jack's gun hadn't been fired.
Mac heard the familiar throb of a helicopter. He ran to the yard and held his hand over his eyes squinting. The helicopter was one of Phoenix's. Mac huffed and kicked the wooden wall of the barn. He batted at his damp eyelashes as he forced himself to think. He tucked the gun in his waist band and went into the house. The dogs followed him in and took deep drinks of water and plopped down on the kitchen floor tired. Mac froze as he saw the burner phone sitting in the middle of the dining room table. He knew for a fact Jack had it when Mac left. His hand shook as he turned on the screen. Mac read the words; his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
"You can plan on me, Please have snow and mistletoe and presents on the tree." Mac almost threw the phone across the room, but stopped and sat down holding his head in his hands. He knew the words by heart; it had been his mother's favorite carol, I'll be home for Christmas. Mac took in a steadying breath. That told him where the trap would be. The second line is what made Mack's heart sink. "See you soon, love and kisses Murdoch." Murdoch with the power of Corydon behind him? Mac shuddered. Add onto that Mac was alone without any resources, contacts and could be tracked through any phone line or computer-it had to be the way they'd found Mac and Jack. Mac shook his head and shouldered the pressure. He felt his adrenaline pump and channeled it to thinking.
He had to go back to LA, that much was clear. Mac knew he'd be tracked probably by satellite, but there wasn't much he could do about that. Thinking about the complicated games Corydon and Murdoch liked to play, Mac didn't believe that they would do anything until he hit LA. That gave him some time to plan. He looked into the expressive eyes of the dogs.
"Feel like a road trip fellas?" Mac asked. The dog's ears raised and their tails wagged. Mac bit his lip as he took inventory of what the farm had. He looked out the window to the shack with the tank attached to it and smiled, plans already forming in his mind.
