The Priority Mission: Missing Scene for The Rising
By: Ridley C. James
A/N: MacGyver Universe 2016. This is my first voyage into the MacGyver world. I so want to like this little show. It has great potential, not as a remake because it is nothing like the original, but as a re-imagining of the show I loved. I do have a soft spot for George Eades and despite some writing issues and getting off to a slow start, I think he and Lucas Till have great chemistry. I also like Peter Lenkov, and have mostly enjoyed Hawaii Five-0, so I am trusting him to work his magic. To my Supernatural readers, I have a couple of stories coming up soon, but I am stretching a little writing these fun missing scenes. I hope you enjoy.
RCJ*RCJ
All missions, however action-packed and dangerous in the climax, required a modicum of waiting. Whether watching a suspect or scoping a location or holding out for crucial intel from a source, the business of espionage wasn't always busy. It demanded patience. Jack Dalton, agent extraordinaire, considered himself many things, but a patient man was not one of them.
Despite his years in the field and his intensive military training which had entailed its own sort of drudgery, Jack hated to wait. For anything. Especially something he wanted really badly. It had been Christmas Eve when he was a kid. His first set of wheels as a teen. A beautiful girl's phone number later on when he realized there were even more exciting benchmarks to becoming a man than driving a car. Jack wanted what he wanted when he wanted it. Call it a character flaw, but the struggle was real. Right now, he had never wanted anything quite as badly as he wanted his best friend to wake up and prove the all-knowing medical staff wrong.
Mac had been in surgery for over five hours and the doctor, although hopeful of a full recovery, warned Jack it would be morning before his patient came around. Both shift nurses had echoed that sentiment, informing Jack he should go get something to eat, even better go home and sleep. But the surgeon, with all his fancy letters after his name, and the nurses with their empathetic mumbo jumbo, didn't know Angus MacGyver the way that Jack did. Jack might not have read as many books as Mac, but if Jack knew one thing cover to cover it was his partner.
Jack had watched many men make the mistake of underestimating Mac, the proverbial judging a comic by its glossy front. It was understandable considering Mac looked younger than he was, more recent high school grad than full grown adult. He wasn't typical military grade, at least not what most people expected to find on an Army recruiting poster. His easy going nature and pretty boy looks didn't help the situation. Jack had been guilty of passing the kid off as one of the governments soft around the edges geek operatives on their first job together. It had taken his friend pulling both their asses out of the fire with one of his impossible hacks, not to mention a wicked right cross from Mac afterwards to set him straight on matters. Since then, Jack had learned to just sit back and enjoy the show. Seeing Mac put men twice his size in their place was part of what made Jack's job so much fun.
The problem was that being Mac's back-up had stopped being just a job a long damn time ago. Mac was family, more brother than partner and sometimes Jack found himself reverting back to those original gut instincts he'd had when he was first assigned to watch Mac's six. The ones that screamed at him that Mac needed protection, that Mac was going to get himself killed far before he even looked old enough to join up. The fact his best friend was unconscious and unnervingly still on the hospital bed surrounded by monitors and scary looking machines was only increasing Jack's desire for action. He needed to hunt down the bastards who'd done this to Mac, to their team, and tear them limb from limb MacGyver style, no gun required.
Only Jack had learned early on that the most important mission wasn't always the one you thought it was. As much as he hated it, sometimes patience paid off and despite Mac's appearance, Jack knew for certain his friend was fighting his way back. For one, Mac was nothing if not a scrapper. He never gave up. Two, Mac was never more dangerous and on top of his game when it looked like he should be counted out. Last but certainly not least, Mac's brain never shut off. Jack was convinced even the most powerful medicinal cocktail would fail in completely shutting down his best friend's mental machine. The kid's intellect was a beast. Mac would be awake soon and he would need for Jack to be there.
As if he was bound and determined to prove Jack right, Mac chose that moment to move. It was just a twitch of his hand and Jack wondered if he had imagined it until the monitors registered a slight change in the patient's condition. Jack sprung from the chair he'd pulled next to Mac and leaned over the rail of the hospital bed. It was only a moment before Mac's eyes fluttered and the sound of a low groan filled the room.
"Mac?" Jack forced himself to stay calm, resisting the urge to hit the nurse call button. He needed a few minutes alone with his partner before he was ordered out of the way. Mac would have questions, questions Jack didn't want anyone else but him giving the answers to. As it was, Thornton had pulled some strings to get him a pass on the whole Intensive Care restricted visitation thing but once Mac was awake, medical protocol might make Jack's presence impossible even if Jack was listed as Mac's next of kin and had his power of attorney.
"What…"Mac's voice was hoarse and he seemed to be having a hard time tracking. When his eyes did manage to stay focused on Jack, they widened with fear. "Where…"
"Easy there slugger." Jack lowered the rail of the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "We can cover the what, when, where and why in a minute. Let's start with how, as in how are feeling?"
Mac blinked a few times and Jack could practically see the wheels turning. "Like someone shot me?"
"It's not a quiz." Jack managed a grin. "But I don't call you a freaking genius for nothing."
"What happened?" Mac looked around the room, down at the I.V. in his arm and then back to Jack.
Jack wasn't the only one with a patience problem. Mac might not be full throttle go all the time, but when it came to information he was need to know now, and right now. "Our job went south. The bad guys got the drop on us. What do you remember?"
"The canister, a biologic, our boat going boom." Mac closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, Jack knew his plan for gently delivering the bad news was blown. "Nikki!"
"Not so fast, Kid." Jack moved quickly, ending his partner's attempt to get up. He put a hand on Mac's shoulders, careful of the wound high on the left side. Jack knew exactly where it was. He'd spent a terrifying ten minutes trying to stop Mac from bleeding out, praying nothing vital had been damaged. It wasn't easy to block out the memory of warm blood on his hands, the cool stickiness still clinging to him as paramedics had shoved him out of the way to take over keeping Mac alive. "You don't want to mess up all the doctor's hard work. Trust me the man is a real pill."
"Where's Nikki? Did you find her?" Mac's hand came up and locked around Jack's wrist. "Is she okay?"
The desperation in Mac's eyes caused Jack to flashback to those horrible moments by the water earlier in the night. He'd come to from the blow to his head only to find himself alone on the road. He made it to his knees, recovered his gun just in time to see the bad guys making a getaway. Watching them flee with the unknown biological weapon was nowhere near as panic inducing as Jack realizing his team was nowhere in sight. The van was still there, doors open, but no Mac and no Nikki. Jack's priority was to protect his team, and blindsided or not, he'd be damned if he lost a member.
He eyed the bridge with trepidation. Then he heard the splashing.
Jack made it to the side just as Mac broke the surface of the brackish water. It had taken everything Jack had not to jump over, but training and logic had kicked in, assessing the possible risk of his own injury from the jump and the certainty he already had a concussion. He couldn't compromise the rescue. He'd torn his gaze from Mac long enough to spot a haphazard path leading to the shore below. Jack had taken off, half running, half stumbling and sliding in the dark, making his attempt to reach his partner almost as treacherous as jumping blind might have been.
Mac was trying to pull himself onto the bank when Jack made it to him, the red trail of blood marking his progress.
"Oh shit, Mac." Jack reached for his arm. "You're hit."
Mac had latched onto Jack's wrist then, too. Only his hands had been like ice, his grip weaker. But his words had been similar as well.
"Nikki! You have to get Nikki."
"Mac, you're shot." Jack could tell it was bad. The left side of Mac's shirt was torn and bloodied. It was close to his heart. Too close. Even in the dark, Jack could make out the fresh blood that oozed from the wound. It was a miracle that Mac was conscious, that he'd made it out of the water on his own. Jack stripped out of his dress shirt, pressed it against the wound.
"Her too." Mac hissed, bringing his other hand up to take over holding the make-shift compress. His glazed gaze went from Jack's back to the water. "You have to get her. Go. Now!"
Jack had made a split-second decision. He dropped his gun on the ground next to Mac, stripped his already wet under-shirt. He kicked his shoes off as he went and ran out a few feet before diving. He swam hard and fast, ignoring the throbbing in his head, the burning in his eyes as he willed them to see through the mire. The water was deep and there was a strong undertow more prominent than earlier when he and Mac had jumped from their boat. It pulled at Jack, threatening to take him farther than he could go.
He ran out of air. Surfaced. Shouted Nikki's name. Searched the water around him. He dove again. Praying he'd brush against clothes, her hair. Anything. But he touched nothing. He surfaced, shouted for her again. And again. He might as well have been in the middle of the Atlantic. No sign of her. He dove. Swam. When Jack surfaced for the fourth time, or maybe it was the fifth, Mac called out to him.
"Jack, do you see her? Have you got her?"
Jack didn't answer. Instead he swam back to the shore. Nikki was lost to them. Even if she survived a gunshot wound, it would be unlikely she'd have been strong enough to swim against the current. If she hadn't died instantly, she'd have drowned by now. Mac was still breathing. If Jack wanted to keep him that way he sure as hell couldn't keep thinking of Nikki as a rescue. As much as he cared about her, as much as it grated against his nature to leave her behind she had to be delegated to recovery. Mac was alive, critically injured. He was Jack's priority now.
"Jack? Please."
The tightened grip on his wrist, the weak tone in Mac's voice, anchored Jack back to the present. Although he said the very same words he'd spoken before when he'd made it back to the shore.
"I'm sorry, Mac. She's gone."
Mac looked just as gutted this time around. Jack felt like he'd been kicked in the balls and he wondered if the cold from the water and the haze of his head wound hadn't offered him some kind of buffer the first time around.
"You didn't get her?"
It was dejavu. Mac had choked out the same words when Jack had dropped wet and breathless next to him.
Jack repeated his earlier lines verbatim as well. "I searched as long as I could, Dude. You were bleeding out. I couldn't lose you both."
"She's gone." Mac let go of Jack's wrist, his hand sliding back to lay beside him on the bed where his fingers tapped quietly on the sheet. Jack briefly wondered what shape his friend might craft if he had one of his trademark paperclips to toy with. "She's really gone."
The first time around Jack had been so intent on getting back to the van, back to the first aid kit and radioing for help, that Mac had mostly been out of it when he'd finally gotten back to him. He'd begged Mac to stay awake, to stay with him, but now he almost wished his friend might succumb to the drugs in his system that the surgeon swore would keep him under until morning. Maybe with some more time, Jack could explain to his best friend how he'd not saved his girl, how he'd let someone they both loved, a member of their team, die on his watch.
"I tried, Buddy. I'm so sorry. I would have done anything to bring you both home alive. Anything."
"She was gone before she hit the water." Mac looked at Jack. "I saw it on her face, when that bastard…when he shot her in the chest."
"You saw it." Jack had imagined how it went down, but hoped he might be wrong. It was the same scenario he'd run through his head when he'd told Mac not to hand over the canister. Bad guys could not be bargained with, and handing over whatever it was they wanted rarely helped any situation. It just gave away any leverage you might have had. Mac knew better too, but sometimes even the smartest guy was overruled by his emotions. As big as Angus MacGyver's brain was, his heart was even bigger. One was his greatest asset, the other his most prominent weakness.
"As soon as he had the biologic…"
"You couldn't have stopped him, Brother."
"Tell that to Nikki."
"Nikki knew, Mac."
"Did they find her body?" Mac was staring at him again. The pain, or maybe it was the damn drugs made the kid's eyes look brighter, somehow younger.
"Not yet." Jack swallowed hard, ran a hand over his mouth. He didn't tell Mac what he was thinking. Nikki was more than likely fish food. "That was a wicked current, Dude. Deep as hell."
"We need to go back, we need to…" Mac struggled again to get his body to cooperate. If will power and stubbornness would have aided him at all, Jack was sure he'd made it out of the bed.
"Take it easy." As it was, Mac's efforts were easily thwarted by Jack's steadying hand. "The only thing you need to do, Dude, is rest and recover. Read my lips. You almost died. Just ask your surgeon. A fraction to the right and we'd be dragging the water for two bodies."
"The man who did this will wish that had been the case," Mac said through clenched teeth. His blue eyes turned to silver steel.
"I don't doubt that." Jack figured the pain of moving might have been more of a deterrent than his plea, but he was just as stubborn as his partner. "I get that you want to make him pay. And we will. But as I've told you before you don't get to do stupid things alone, and you certainly don't get to do them when you're hurt."
Mac relaxed once more on the bed, taking a few deep breaths in and out before he met Jack's gaze again. This time his eyes shone with unshed tears. Gone was the determined field agent, in an instant replaced by the kid Jack had sworn all those years ago to watch over. "I didn't keep her safe, Jack. I failed her."
Jack felt bitter bile rise up the back of his throat. Mac had experienced enough loss in his life to value family over everything else. In that way, he and Jack were the same.
"This is isn't on you, Mac. It's all on the men who attacked us, the one who shot you and Nikki." Jack was pretty sure he'd have to keep telling himself the same thing over the next few weeks as Mac recuperated. It was a bitter pill to swallow at the moment with Mac looking at him the way he was, all wounded, kicked puppy. With all his fire extinguished, his partner seemed to be struggling to stay awake, the medicine working its magic once more.
"Thornton will say we're too close," Mac muttered. "She'll pull us from the case."
"We'll wait for an opportunity," Jack promised. Bad pennies had a way of turning up over and over again and knowing Mac's propensity for trouble that would happen sooner rather than later. "We just have to be patient."
The new look of incredulity that temporarily replaced the one of hurt on Mac's face was almost laughable. "Are you sure I'm not dead?"
"I'll have you know I can be a man of great patience," Jack lied, forcing a smile. "Dealing with you these past few years has required I hone the skill."
"You're a lot of things, Jack..." Mac's eye lids fluttered, staying closed for a minute before he seemed to will them open once more to fix his gaze on Jack. "Patient isn't one of them."
"Maybe not," Jack conceded. "But I'll do whatever it takes to finish my mission."
"Avenging Nikki." Mac nodded, his eyes fluttering again, but staying closed this time.
"Protecting you," Jack countered softly. Mac didn't reply and Jack waited until his partner's breathing evened out in sleep before removing his hand from Mac's shoulder, replacing it gently on his head. He knew Mac wouldn't quit until they'd found Nikki's body and brought her killer to justice. The road wouldn't be an easy one, physically or emotionally. But Jack would wait, and he'd dig up whatever reserves of patience it took to be there for his best friend. "Getting you back safe is always my priority mission."
The End…for now.
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