The Campaign: A MacGyver Story (Alternative title, 'The Key') Chapter 1

By Judybear

I do not own MacGyver or Pete Thornton or the Phoenix Foundation

(MacGyver POV)

So, I had had each group of volunteers set aside an area between their rows of tents as a gathering area and now as evening approached I could see that they had each started a nice campfire, so I thought I'd pay each of them a little visit, get to know them a little.

The volunteers all seemed to be in good spirits, looking forward to the work that would begin on the next day.

As I left the first group on a high note (one of them had cracked a joke that had all of us laughing!), I cautioned them that "Revile will be at 4 AM, so be sure to get some sleep tonight. We need to be on the job at first light, so get some rest before then!"

I could hear them questioning the reason for the time as I approached a second fire. My ears pricked up when I heard someone with a hushed voice say, "Quiet, everyone! Here he comes now!"

"Evening, Mr. MacGyver!"

"Just MacGyver, please. And you are… Robert is it?" I asked a young man with straight blonde hair and a deep suntan.

"ROGER, Sir, Roger Appleby," he grinned. "Close, but no apple!"

I can appreciate a good pun and chuckled as I found a log to sit on. "So, is everybody settled in?"

It seemed Roger was the spokesman for the group, "Well we seem to have too many cooks, literally. But the sand-baggers don't have any, maybe we could swap with them?"

"Fine with me, just swap out tents…"

Another young man piped up, "Janie says she has extra room in her tent; so do I. How about if we move in together?"

A roar of laughter erupted before Janie told them, "No Way, Jose!"

A woman's voice asked, "Say, Mr. MacGyver? We were wondering whether you knew anything about, uh, reincarnation?" I laughed at that until I saw that she appeared to be serious.

A young black man who sounded educated told her, "Come on, Rosie. He doesn't want to be bothered with that kind of stuff now! He has more pertinent things to concern himself with."

A general discussion ensued and I put up my hands, "Hold on now, I've read a little about it … and I think I can speak for myself, although I do appreciate your concern, Randy."

Rosie turned to me, "Has anyone ever told you how much you look like Cump Sherman?"

Now I had no idea who this person was, and the idea that she thought I resembled him was amusing, if a little disconcerting. "Like who?" I asked with a grin.

Randy chimed in, "She thinks you look like William Tecumseh Sherman, the Union general during …"

Interesting, and not quite so amusing anymore…" Ah, I know who General
Sherman was. I take it you feel the two questions are related?" I didn't like where this was going... "And you think… I'm…?"

"Cump Sherman reincarnated, to make amends for all the damage he did here during the war."

Ho, boy! I had no idea what to say. I started to say that that was ridiculous, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I couldn't help laughing. Then I saw the look on her face and slid my hand down my face. "I'm sorry, Rosie, I'm not laughing at you… It's just the thought of ME … and SHERMAN? of all people? Do I seem that much of a …?"

"That's just it!" She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, short brown curls bouncing as she emphasized what she was saying, "We return as the opposite of what we were in our former life. I mean, look at you right now… LOOK at him, you guys," and I could feel the heat rising from my neck…talk about being put on the spot! "Imagine him with red hair, a little bit shorter and unkempt, with a receding hair line…? And look at how expertly you organized this camp! Have you ever done that before?"

I was so perplexed I could only answer her, "Well, no, not exactly, but it just seemed the sensible way to do it…" Now I knew what 'Hot under the collar' meant… I was definitely feeling it.

"Exactly!" She declared triumphantly. "That's the way it happens! We know how to do things without ever being told! Tell me, do you ride horses?"

Finally something I could get a handle on and maybe put an end to this discussion, "Actually, I prefer ice hockey!" That got a roar of laughter from those within earshot. As I got up to leave I told them, "Revile is at 4 AM, people, so get some sleep before then."

00oo00oo

I sat in my tent, toying with a pencil while studying some maps. I wasn't sure how all of this would come together, although things were working out so far. I just wasn't sure how far I would need to carry this on my own. My tent was basically an office with a cot and a small trunk in a back room. The office part had a good sized work table - presently covered in maps, some camp chairs and a trunk up on legs to keep the papers dry at night. A two-way radio was crackling in the background when I heard a scratching on my tent flap. "Come on in!"

Rosie peeked around the edge of the flap. Oh no, I really don't want to talk about this stuff…

"Mr. MacGyver?" She entered hesitantly. "Excuse me?"

I was a little annoyed at the interruption, but asked her anyway, "Rosie! Hi! What can I do for you?" Rosie was a seemingly intelligent young woman, with an obvious fixation on reincarnation. Aside from that she seemed nice. Her curly brown hair was cut short so it stayed our of her hazel eyes that changed from green to brown, depending on her mood.

She approached me shyly, holding out a book, "I just … I thought you might like … just in case you'd like to read? About the real Cump Sherman?"

I took the book and turned it over in my hand, "Uh, thank you, but I don't know…"

"That's OK. Whenever you get around to it. My name and address are inside the cover… you can mail it to me when you're done with it." And she hurried out. Strange girl. Cute, but strange. I put the small book in my pocket and had returned to studying the maps when Ellen came in.

"Well, the house looks like it will work for treating the birds and the parlor can be used as the clinic…" Ellen was turning out to be a decent worker and a good partner for this sort of thing. I was glad to have a veterinarian who knew a little about this sort of operation - but I wasn't about to let her know!

After Ellen left I went into my quarters where there was a cot, a wooden chest to hold some of my stuff and to act as a night table and a card table with a couple of chairs. Nothing elegant, but functional. I lay back on my cot, reading over a list of some procedures I had just given out, but couldn't get comfortable. Lumpy bed! But as I felt around I discovered that I still had that stupid book in my pocket. I set it on the night table, but darned if I couldn't get my mind off of it. Probably no more than a bunch of propaganda about how heroic General Sherman was. I started to flip through the book when an ornate brass bookmark fell out of it. I tucked the bookmark back into the book and started to read… and drifted off to sleep…

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Sweet dreams, MacGyver! R & R if you like…