4 years ago- Iraq
Four men sat apart from the hundreds of soldiers milling around the hastily constructed base of operations. It was evident from their posture and the curt way they responded to anyone that tried to interact with them that they wanted to be left alone; the only company they wanted was their own. Each of them also exuded a certain danger and so it didn't take a lot for other soldiers to get the idea and leave them be.
"Man, I'll tell you what if they don't let us off this base soon, they might just have to throw me in the brig for insubordination," one of the men with Coleman emblazoned on the front of his uniform remarked to his friends angrily, "we need to make those sons of bitches pay for what they did to Elliot!"
"I'd be right there with ya brother," a second man replied, this one had Rodriguez written on his uniform. Where Coleman had exuded anger this man put off a sense of loss and sadness. Afterall, Elliot had been his best friend. They had finished Delta training together and had been overjoyed when they'd been assigned to the same team. They had even talked about moving their families to the same neighborhood when they left the service and living out the "American Dream" white picket fence life as neighbors. They both knew that life was most likely not in the cards for them, but dreaming of it, making plans for it somehow made the long nights and painful memories a little easier to handle.
"Now don't be getting any stupid ideas in your heads," a third man with Dalton plainly written on his chest said. His tone denoted authority and clearly commanded the respect of the other men as they instantly looked slightly, though only slightly, apologetic.
"Eh, leave em be Dalton," the final man, Moore, finally entered the conversation, he seemed detached and a bit pissed off that the others had interrupted his silent reverie, "you can't blame em. We just lost one of our own and what do the powers that be tell us, stay in camp, wait for Elliot's replacement. I mean what are they thinking, Elliot's replacement my ass, he can't be replaced. It doesn't make it any better that we can't even the score with the assholes that put him in the ground."
"Damn, Moore, I think that's the longest I've ever heard you talk," Coleman replied with a wry smile, not quite reading the fact that Moore was not in the mood to be teased, "it's nice to see you all worked up. Glad to know you cared."
"Of course I care," Moore responded angrily half rising out of his chair.
"Okay, okay, I'm just teasing Coleman responded holding up his hands in a placating manner.
"What do you think this new EOD is going to be like anyway?" Coleman continued clearly trying to change the subject.
"Dunno, I hear that he's really young though," Rodriguez put in, "if he's as young as they say I almost feel like it'll be an insult to Elliot's name. There are few seasoned soldiers who could even come close to filling his shoes, let alone some bright eyed young upstart."
"Let's not get carried away now before we even meet him," Dalton responded with a finality in his voice that ended the conversation. "Let's turn in."
The next morning the subject of last night's conversation showed up to their little group exuding a confident youthfulness that instantly aggravated the Delta team.
"Macgyver reporting for duty," the young man started as he walked up to the four Delta Force men, "you must be my new team. Who will I be reporting to?"
"That'd be me," Dalton stated coming forward with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Yes sir!" the young man returned.
"And you are?" Moore questioned from Dalton's side.
"Oh right, the name's MacGyver, but my friend's call me Mac."
"Macgyver, huh," Rodriguez stated clearly unimpressed and pointedly not using the nickname that had been offered, "are you sure that they sent you to the right place. You can't have even finished your first year in the service from the looks of you."
"Actually, I'm going into my third year of service and I'm not in the wrong place, I'm your new EOD Specialist, one of the best as promised." Macgyver responded with just a hair of irritation in his voice.
"I'll believe it when I see it," Coleman sneered from the Dalton's other side.
Just then an officer walked up with new orders for the team.
"Well Dalton, it looks like you and your team finally have your wish. You get to head back into the field tomorrow now that your team has a full complement again." The officer told Dalton as he handed over the mission overview.
They would be heading out to a village where the newly renamed ISIS was rumored to have set up camp. Within that village, two journalists were being held, while their videos were circulated demanding prisoners from Guantanamo Bay be released in exchange for their safe return.
Early the next morning Dalton and his team geared up and headed out full of anticipation to be in the field once again. They didn't arrive at the village until late in the afternoon and were disappointed when they found it empty. An ISIS flag hanging on the wall of one of the building told them that ISIS had been there, but had moved on before they arrived. After fully searching every part of the village the team headed back with short tempers from a wasted day. As they gathered that evening, Macgyver made several attempts to engage his new team members in conversation and was rather disheartened to be rebuffed at every turn. Unfortunately, before too long he found a topic they were willing to talk about though not in the way he had imagined. When he asked about the man he was replacing he found out that he had recently been killed in action.
"I'm sorry," Macgyver began, "do you mind if I ask what happened."
As the narration of the mission was recounted by the Delta Team, Macgyver noted that the EOD Specialist most likely beyond exhausted from their long mission had missed a secondary trigger in an the IED that had led to his death. Without thinking and before he could stop himself Macgyver blurted out, "That was a rookie mistake," and before he could even fully process that he had stated that outloud, a fist belonging to Dalton knocked him off balance and was followed by another and another, soon both of them were lost in their anger swinging wildly at each other.
"You didn't know him," Dalton spat at him as he continued his assault.
"At least I know how to disarm a bomb without getting myself killed." Macgyver returned, immediately knowing that that wasn't fair, but too lost in the anger of the moment to care. After all they weren't the only ones who'd lost people. The death of his mentor, commanding officer and friend Pena still weighed heavily on him. It didn't help that since Pena's death he had shutdown a part of himself and often came across as cold and uncaring. No matter how hard he had tried since then, he hadn't seemed to be able to fit in anywhere and in a way didn't really care to. After all, getting too close to those around him just opened him up to more hurt when he lost them. On top of that, his fellow soldiers often took an instant disliking to him when in a conversation he would slip up and correct one of them on a fallacy or an incorrect statement or just drop a fact that he knew. This tendency made those he tried to associate with think that he looked down on them and felt that he was better and smarter than they were.
"He's been an EOD Specialist since you were in elementary school and he was the best. We're his team, not yours, don't you forget it and I don't ever wanna hear you disrespecting him again."
Finally, Rodriguez and Coleman pulled Dalton off Macgyver though they had waited a full three minutes as they too were angered by Macgyver's comment.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say it that way" Macgyver tried having finally cooled down, but the team was clearly not interested they gathered around Dalton and helped him take care of the bruises and cuts from the few punches that Macgyver had managed to land on him.
It looks like I'm on my own again, Macgyver thought bitterly as he slunk off to care for his own injuries.
Soon Macgyver and the other Delta Force members fell into a routine. He would stay to himself during any free time that they had, but would perform his part flawlessly when on a mission.
Before long the others begrudgingly began to respect his skill as an EOD Specialist though they continued to dislike his company when they weren't in action. The few interactions Dalton and Macgyver had were strained and charged with resistance on either side. They seldom agreed on anything and would often butt heads neither one willing to give in to the other. It wasn't the most functional way for a team to run, but they worked with it and their missions were accomplished in an exemplary fashion.
It was three months later when they finally found or rather stumbled upon the ISIS cell that they had been tracking on their first mission together. They had been sent out on a simple reconnaissance mission to a village to find out if it would be safe to make an outpost nearby. However, about halfway through the village gunfire erupted around them pinning them down and forcing them to find shelter in a nearby building. Working together they cleared the building that they found themselves in and were shocked to discover the journalists that they had been tasked with rescuing in their earlier mission. This success buoyed their flagging morale and soon they had a working, though precarious plan on how to get out of their current predicament. Macgyver would make two IEDs from some supplies he found in the house and the rest of the team would find the thickest materials they could find that could be carried and could serve as a shield. Next, they would use the cover of their explosions to safely exit the village using the shield like materials to provide additional protection. With their plans set, Macgyver and the others set about their tasks and were soon ready to try. Everything fell into place perfectly, until Macgyver saw the light glint off a barrel and calculated the trajectory of the bullet that was in the process of being fired and found, much to his dismay, that it was aimed directly at Dalton who was pulling up the rear of their little formation.
"Jack, get down!" he yelled frightened at the prospect of losing a teammate even one he didn't get along with. Seeing that he couldn't hear him, Macgyver did the only other thing he could think of, threw himself in the path of the bullet. Time slowed as the bullet raced towards him and he found his mind crazily comparing his own body with one of the many things that he used to improvise solutions to the problems he was faced with. If there was nothing around that one could use to fix a problem, improvise with what is available, at that moment his body had been available. The pain as the bullet hit him sent fire throughout his upper body and took his breath away. He hit the ground hard and as he scrambled to his feet his heightened perceptions noticed three things, 1: the look on Jack's face of absolute shock, mingled with gratitude and guilt, 2: the fact that the rest of the team had managed to clear the village, but wouldn't be able to mount a rescue anytime soon as their primary mission had to be to keep the journalists safe and there was no way to do that and rescue the two of them and 3: the fact that he was being pushed into a nearby building.
His perceptions finally slowed down to match reality when the gunfire became quieter as Jack pushed him farther into the building and helped him sit in a chair that Jack had found.
"That was a damn fool thing to do!" Jack told Macgyver, he sounded angry, before his voice turned softer, "but it was also brave and saved my life so I guess I owe you a thank you. What were you thinking anyway?"
"I used what I had on hand, me." Macgyver replied with a wry smile that turned to a grimace as the pain from the bullet once again shot through his body.
"I've never had anybody take a bullet for me before, save my life sure, but take a bullet, no. I don't know quite what to think of it." Jack joked back as he worked on stopping the bleeding.
"It looks like you got lucky kid, it didn't hit anything vital and it's a through and through. I think with a little help you might even be able to walk out of here on your own."
"I'm not a kid, Dalton." Macgyver told Jack.
"You know, kid," Jack replied finding that he enjoyed the annoyed, but amused look that flitted across Macgyver's face every time he called him kid, "anybody that saves my life is allowed to call me Jack. All my friends do."
"Well, in that case you can call me Mac."
In that moment a friendship was born that would come to define both men.
Present
Noise outside the house alerted Mac and Jack that help had finally arrived. If all went correctly, it was only a matter of time until they were home free, though how long that would take was anyone's guess. Mac could remember few times he had felt greater relief course through him, not only had his distraction tactic work keeping Jack awake and alert, but soon he could get the care he so desperately needed.
"You know I never would have guessed when I first met you how much your friendship would become a part of me." Jack told his friend.
"I don't think either of us would have." Mac responded.
"So I guess it was lucky that we got stuck in that building all day and then had to spend the whole night finding our way back to camp huh."
"I guess so."