Mac did his best to minimize his pacing; he confined it to the back of the briefing room while the general Matty called in explained to them the contents of the secret note stood up front. Monroe was hesitant at first, wary as to why this seemingly random government agency had the note in their possession in the first place. Matty explained to him what she could, mainly how it affected Jack.

"I was wondering where Jack ended up." He had smiled, accepting the note from Mac. When Monroe had taken it from the blonde he had read the worry in his eyes. "What kind of trouble has he gotten himself into?"

"Hopefully not much," Mac responded solemnly. "But that's where you come in." Monroe understood Mac's statement once he looked down and saw what code the letter was written in. He took a seat and put on his glasses to begin deciphering, and that's when Mac began pacing.

"There's not much to it." Monroe sighed, gazing down at the random symbols. "Mainly a coordinate, some vague references to something that happened….and then another coordinate."

"Two sets?" Riley had her laptop open. "What are they?" She put them in as the general read them aloud. "Okay, the first on it a remote location up in Oregon and the other is also a remote location over in Afghanistan."

"The Deltas are no strangers to Afghanistan." Monroe commented.

"Sir," Boozer finally spoke up. "Did you know a Delta solider named Ethan Horton?"

"I knew him." Monroe's face went cold. "He was under Jack's command for some time."

"What happened to him?"

"The job." He responded gruffly. "…MIA, like everyone else in his squad…everyone except for Jack." Monroe spoke again before the silence brought on a barrage of questions. "Jack was new to the Delta Force, but his experience made him an ideal commander. He didn't appreciate it at first, didn't think he was ready, and, despite everything that happened, he certainly was."

"What did happen?" Riley was almost scared to hear.

"They were ambushed in the mountains, most of them separated and wounded, and when Jack came to he couldn't find his team, couldn't find their trail or bodies. By the time support got to them there was not much we could do, the trail went cold."

"They were captured?" Mac gasped.

"Most likely." Monroe breathed heavily, holding in memories. "They were never found, dead or alive." He ran his fingers over his wrinkled knuckles.

"What did Jack do after that?" Mac asked. He felt his hands shaking: there was nothing he could do, nothing he could build or invent that would fix this situation. He could only listen to old war stories and try to put together the pieces of a past his friend has obviously buried dead.

"After medical, and some psych evals, Jack was given a new squad and never lost another man while an acting commander." Monroe stood and collected himself. He returned the note to Matty and straightened his decorated suit. "I hope I've been of some help, but everything else I'm sure this whiz over here could find out by digging up old records." He motioned to Riley with a small smile. "I'd rather not speak of moments like that mission again."

"We understand." Matty said respectfully. "Thank you for coming out here to help. We'll be sure to contact you when we find Jack."

"Thank you," Monroe shook hands with her and left the room. Mac waited a moment before rushing out to stop him.

"Sir," he caught the general before he could enter an elevator.

"You said you were MacGyver, correct?"

"Yes sir," this caused the general to chuckle.

"Jack told me about you." The old man's face almost grew warm with the memory. "Not long after he stepped down from Delta, I got in touch and asked him how he liked being a handler to techs like you."

"And?"

"He hated it." The general scoffed. Both men smiled. Mac's eyes wandered to the floor before darting back up to Monroe. "He hated you…but only a few weeks later, when I called to try and get him to come back to work for me, he told me how he couldn't leave. It was because of you." He pointed a fat finger at the young blonde. "I know you know this already." Monroe called another elevator after his moved on. With his finger on the button, and his head down, he said, "Jack has strong protective instincts—it's what made him such a good leader—I knew he'd latch on to anyone stupid enough to put themselves in danger. I don't suppose you do that often?"

"Guilty," Mac nodded.

"I'm sorry, what was your question." He held the door open this time.

"It's okay…it's nothing." Mac stammered, and the general was not one to pry so he gave MacGyver another firm handshake before leaving. He stood there before the closed doors, suddenly feeling a strange wave of optimism, that he'd fine Jack soon, safe.

Hands chained to a pipe behind him, his shoulder wound plugged up with cloth and duct tape, and the darkness of the old building making it difficult to stay conscious, Jack leaned his head against the metal of the pipe and felt the cold seep into his skull and dampen his memories. He closed his eyes and let the silence take him away to the Sandbox, but then a bucket of frozen water was dumped onto him, sending him back to reality like a bullet. Jack's whole body tensed in the cold, this irritated his bullet wound. He seethed through clenched teeth and looked up at Hanz with strong eyes.

"What do the kids call that now?" He seemed unphased when Jack began to shake with rage, something he mistook for the cold. "I don't know," the man gave up and haphazardly tossed the bucket aside. Jack knocked his head back into the metal piping to try and interrupt his shivering, which was beginning to disturb the wrappings on his wound. Hanz stayed there until the other man controlled himself again, silencing the tremors with strong breaths. "Did you ever know anyone named Roman Reyes?" Hanz spoke from behind his dark shades, as they hid the redness of his eyes. He watched Jack's face contort with silent pain. "Roman was my best friend, and I hated the fact that he went into the Army, and then the Deltas…how the fuck did that happen?!" Hanz lost his composure for a moment as he ran a hand through his hair. "You remember Roman, he was not the brightest man, but he sure was lovable. He was in the wrong place…he shouldn't have been there doing those things…" Hanz was no longer looking at Jack, but when his gaze returned he felt a sudden rush of hatred well up and he was compelled to kick Jack hard in the stomach. The air rushed out of Jack, and he coughed for some time as he tried to reclaim it.

"I knew Roman!" Jack finally yelled. He hung his head down, the chains straining his shoulders behind him, water dripped off his wet hair onto his crossed legs. He gasped. "I loved Roman, the man was like a walking teddy bear." Even now, Jack smiled thinking of him. Hanz did too.

"Yeah, he was."

"I asked him one day why he was with Delta…like you said, he wasn't the type." Jack wheezed, now he had Hanz's attention. "He said that the had people he wanted to protect, he wanted them to be safe, for their families to be safe." Jack heard Hanz's breath shake. "He tried to help those people. We all did." Jack lifted his head, though it felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds, and he looked at Hanz with red rimmed eyes. "But it wasn't my job to help those people, it was my job to keep those boys safe, and I didn't do my job." His own voice cracked. Hanz had to press his lips together, for he couldn't speak without feeling as if he'd lose control of his emotions. So, he walked away and left Jack there in the dark.

He had passed out into a nightmare realm of pain, guilt, and regret. Sometimes the pull his slumping body had on his bullet wound jerked him awake, yet the exhaustion quickly returned him to that evil darkness. It wasn't until another bucket of ice water was dumped on him that he truly woke. Jack reacted the same as the first ice bath instance. Moments passed, and he cursed himself for being so weak to the shock. However, it was Aiden that now stood before him rather than Hanz.

"Good morning, Jack." He said emotionlessly, kneeling in front of his old commander. Jack allowed his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the small building and he soon saw the barbed wire delicately wrapped around the man's gloved hands. "This was the first thing they did to me, after shooting me of course." Aiden began to meticulously tie the barbed wire around Jack's wounded shoulder. Jack struggled to keep himself still, but fear and the frigid cold kept him trembling, poking into the sharp metal, and quickly his left shoulder became a throbbing drum. "They kept it on for months, and I slowly loss use of my left arm." Aiden said. Jack eyed him up as he noticed how little that limb moved. Aiden suddenly finished the knot and then unsheathed a combat knife and staked it into Jack's left thigh right below his hip. Jack gasped and groaned as he blinked away the surprise.

"God damn…" He had to release his raspy breath.

"They stabbed me two months in, but I don't have two months. I'm going to have to accelerate the schedule." Aiden kept the knife there and twisted it around. He watched Jack's face contort in agony and only his eyes flickered with satisfaction. "I wish things could've been different. So many nights I was tied up, only able to wonder what it'd be like to be with my friends and family again. My girlfriend gave up on me, I don't blame her." He yanked the knife out and wiped it on the front of Jack's t-shirt. "She has two little girls with an accountant…good guy."

"If you want to kill me, just do it Aiden. Please," Jack could begin to feel himself growing lightheaded, the familiar warmth of a fever rising up his neck.

"Can't do that Jack." Aiden ran the blade across Jack's chest and slowly added pressure as he went, opening him up ever so slightly. "Everything they did to me, I must do to you." He brought the tip up before the man's face. "An eye for an eye."

Jack stared at the ex-solider. The young man had been so handsome, so serious, so driven. Aiden held himself to nothing but the highest of moral standards; he even kept the other men in line when Jack found himself drawn into the fun. He saw so much hatred and fear now swirling inside the young man's eyes, some scars so deep on his face they looked like canyons. Aiden attacked out of nowhere and pinned Jack back by his throat; he aggravated the barbed wire and the pain swelled up like hornets with black dots blinking before Jack's eyes. "I want to hate you so much more than I do." Aiden growled. "I tried to hard to despise you, tried to make it my reason to live one day after the next, it was difficult…just tell me this, did you think about us?"

"…everyday…" Jack choked out. "How could I ever forget your faces…?"

"It sure looks like you've moved on."

"Trust me, I haven't." Jack was released and felt his lungs fill up with fire as he tried to regain his breath before passing out.

Mac was staring at the old Delta photos Riley had projecting on the briefing room wall. In his hands he still had Jack's dog tags, and he could see the glint of them in the sun in the pictures before him. Jack looked young, goofy as ever, striking stupid poses with his weapon beside the other soldiers on his team; Mac swiped that photo away and now saw one of Jack's identification photos where he was stern, looking into the camera against a white backdrop, colorful medals decorating his suit jacket and red barrette.

"Any news?" Matty's voice made MacGyver jump. He hid the dog tags in his pocket and turned to face Riley and his boss who just walked in. She looked to Mac who could only shake his head in silence. "Riley, come on, give me something." Matty walked over to where Riley was typing away on her laptop and gazed over her shoulder.

"I'm waiting for a satellite to get into range of the Oregon coordinates to see if there's any sign of Jack. It should be ready in just a few minutes." Riley explained, her black curls falling over tired eyes. Matty felt compelled to force her to rest, but knew it would be resisted, so she just put a hand on her shoulders and complimented her work. "Thanks, Matty," Riley knew her boss was holding back an order for self-care. "Has this ever happened to him before?" Right then, Riley became a little girl with big eyes, looking up at someone and asking for stories of her father. "He's strong enough to handle this…right?"

"Of course, he is." Matty's gaze never broke. "Jack's an expert when it comes to hostage situations, and he's been on both sides of it." As she said this Mac's phone began to ring. It was an unrecognized number.

"Hello," Mac picked it up warily.

"Is this Angus MacGyver?" A male voice questioned.

"Yeah…" Mac tilted his head at Riley and Matty in confusion. "Who's this?"

"I'm not much of anyone anymore." The stranger's voice rumbled. Riley began to record the call and project it on her laptop, so Mac could take his phone away from his ear. "But I used to be Aiden Kimura…" Riley searched the name and threw photos of Aiden onto the larger screen. The three of them turned to the wall and saw a military ID photo of a young Japanese man in the same Delta garb as Jack was on his ID. Then they saw the casual group photo of the squad: where everyone else was posing "silly" off, Aiden adamantly serious as he stood there with his hands crossed behind his back, but another one of the men was leaning on him and throwing him off balance; Aiden couldn't help but crack a small smile in that photograph.

"You're supposed to be dead." Mac said, trying to keep his voice calm while he stared at the young Aiden in the picture, Jack directly to his right in the center.

"That's what Jack thought to." Aiden said. The knot tightened him Mac's stomach as his fear was realized. "He's a lot funnier than he used to be…I remember the first day me and my brothers met him…he was young, but we were all younger. We looked up to him."

"Where is he?" Mac knew the question was obvious, but a wave of anger rushed the words out of him. Aiden was silent, ignoring the question. "We know what happened then. The scouting mission gone bad…you and everyone else were reported MIA." Mac explained, hoping to keep Aiden talking long enough for Riley to trace the call. The other man almost broke out laughing yet caught himself.

"I think that's what hurts me most—Jack lied, to everyone."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm not MIA…I'm right here." Aiden grumbled. "You're supposed to be some genius, so figure that out!" Aiden's anger flared, and his words crackled over the phone.

"You're obviously angry but taking it out on Jack isn't going to do you any good." Mac reasoned. Again, there was silence, and then he heard sounds as if someone was splashing in water. He suddenly heard Jack gasping and coughing as he was most likely pulled up from whatever tank he was drowning in. Everyone in the room tensed, for they could only listen to their friend struggle to breath.

"Tell them," Aiden threatened, his voice sounding farther away from the phone. Jack said nothing. "TELL THEM!" Sounds of electricity whirring and Jack writhing and screaming hit them. Riley squeezed her eyes shut and tried to imagine that it wasn't Jack she was hearing, he wasn't in pain. Meanwhile, Mac felt frozen and he felt his own breath escape him. "Stop lying!" Aiden shocked him again until Jack started to scream out to stop.

"I killed them…" He mumbled, trying to stay awake. Aiden took the phone and shoved it against his face. "Mac…" Jack's voice sounded like rocks being ground down.

"Jack," Mac felt his hear twist up. "Hey…" He couldn't think of any other words to say.

"I killed them…I did…" He coughed up blood and water. "They're not MIA…"

"Jack just calm down. We're going to find you." Mac said.

"Don't bother, man…. don't bother…" Jack's voice faded and then the sound of his body hitting the floor came out like a thud. The phone scuffled around before Aiden breathed into it again.

"Stop," Mac hissed. "We're going to find you and you're going to pay for this."

Riley looked up at Mac, surprised and almost scared of his sudden violence.

"There isn't much more you could do to me." Aiden said.

"How are you alive?" Mac questioned, his knuckles subconsciously clenching Jack's dog tags in his pocket.

"Because Jack chose not to shoot me." Aiden paused and then hung up, the familiar burn in his throat grew as tears welled up. He still held the phone next to his ear, silent now. Jack was unconscious and bleeding at his feet, soaking like a wet dog. "Why couldn't you just pull that trigger…?"