Chap 4
The clock had reached single digits now, and MacGyver and Melody stood, anxiously awaiting Murdoc's entrance. MacGyver had donned his black jacket once again, and Melody absently pulled on her shirt, standing as close to him as she could without them physically touching.
The clock struck zero and the door slid open, revealing Murdoc's shadowy figure. He had a gun pointed at them.
"Get out here. Now!" Murdoc commanded.
"Why don't you came in here and make us?" MacGyver responded.
Murdoc sneered, "And get caught in your little trap? I don't think so."
"Noticed that, huh?"
"You're off your game, MacGyver! This has been far too easy. I think that Miss Jones here might be your… fatal weakness," Murdoc said, eyeing Melody as if he could perceive her deleterious affects. "Get out here- both of you!" Murdoc gestured impatiently with the gun.
MacGyver moved forward slowly, Melody trailing a few steps behind him. When he reached Murdoc, he made his move. Melody scrambled back to get out of his way as he grabbed Murdoc's gun arm, yanking it down and simultaneously throwing Murdoc into the trap.
The trap worked perfectly, wrapping Murdoc in a web of material, effectively entangling him.
"You got him!" Melody cried happily, throwing her arms around MacGyver in an ecstatic hug.
MacGyver pulled away, "We got him," he said. He went over to Murdoc and picked up the gun from the floor.
"We need his controller," Melody said, quickly moving to detach it from Murdoc's flailing wrist, just visible beneath the web of cloth.
"Be careful…" MacGyver warned too late.
With the loud sound of ripping cloth, Murdoc rose from his entrapment, the knife he had used to cut his way free clutched angrily in his hand. Before Melody had time to gasp, he had her in his grip, the knife hovering over her throat, his arm wrapped tightly around her ribs.
"Let her go!" MacGyver said, aiming the gun hesitantly.
"Drop the gun, MacGyver. We both know you won't use it- especially not with Miss Jones in the line of fire!" Murdoc sneered, the knife pressing into Melody's throat.
MacGyver lowered the gun, dropping it uselessly to the floor.
"Good! Now move!" Murdoc said, jerking his head towards the doorway.
MacGyver watched warily as he passed them, Melody's wide eyes locked with his, her free arm clutched frantically around Murdoc's forearm, uselessly attempting to forestall the knife's path.
Murdoc pushed Melody into the next room, the cold metal biting into her skin with every step. They walked the long gun range, stopping just outside the small glass entryway room.
"Stop," Murdoc commanded MacGyver. They stopped a few feet away. Melody was pulled so close that she could feel the calm, steady thump of Murdoc's heart, an odd accompaniment to her heart's quick, frenetic beat.
"What now, Murdoc?" MacGyver asked.
Murdoc glared at him, "As I said before, MacGyver, this girl is your weakness, and I'm going to prove it. I'll offer you a deal- I can kill her now," Murdoc pressed the knife into her throat and Melody cried out quietly, her eyes wide and terror-filled, "and you can go free."
"Or?" MacGyver asked, his face hard and eyes burning.
"Did you wonder why I gave you four hours? This is why," he nodded his head towards the small glass room. MacGyver glanced over, noting the presence of several large gas containers. Murdoc continued, "My own version of a gas chamber."
Melody gasped, "Gyver, you can't! He'll kill me anyway!" she was silenced as Murdoc tightened his grip around her ribs and pressed warningly with the knife.
MacGyver's expression never changed and Murdoc continued, "You walk in there, and she is free to go. Make your choice, MacGyver."
With measured slowness, MacGyver turned and walked into the small room, passing a camera set up on a tripod- pointed through the glass and onto the floor. Mac entered the room and turned to face them, his expression unreadable.
"No," Melody said, her voice tight with unshed tears.
The knife slid away from her neck and she leapt forwards, ignoring everything around her but MacGyver. The glass door slid quickly shut before she reached him, her fists slamming against the glass in vain.
"No!" she screamed, "Gyver!"
MacGyver laid his palm against the opposite side of the thick glass door, "Get out of here Melody," he said firmly, his voice steady.
"No! I'm not leaving you! Don't you understand?! I love you!"
MacGyver closed his eyes, "You don't know me, Melody," his eyes opened and he met her eyes, "You couldn't love me. Just get out of here."
"W-why are you doing this?" her voice trembled.
"I just can't watch another innocent die, that's all. I'd do it for anyone," MacGyver said, his eyes looking through her. He had to drive her away. She had to leave now, before Murdoc changed his mind.
Murdoc scoffed, "The fool would, at that! He's always been predictable that way."
"But I- I thought…" Melody whispered, heart shredding.
"Go. Don't look back," MacGyver said, backing away.
Tears flowed freely down her face as she turned and walked towards the open door, the bright sunshine slicing across the cold floors.
MacGyver watched her walk away. When she had almost reached the doorway, too far away to hear him, he closed his eyes and whispered one word, "Timber."
She turned, her hand on the doorframe, her lip clenched tightly between her teeth. She couldn't leave him to die. It didn't matter what he said, she couldn't just turn and walk away, knowing that Murdoc was about to kill him.
Murdoc had turned his back, confident that Melody was leaving. His hand was resting on the top of the nearest gas cylinder as he prepared to turn it on.
"Any last words, MacGyver?" Murdoc asked snidely.
"You haven't won," MacGyver said, staring piercingly at Murdoc.
Murdoc sneered, "Then consider this a tie," he said mockingly.
As Murdoc's hand hovered over the gas, MacGyver's eyes flashed up to look behind him, widening slightly in surprise. Years of practice had Murdoc moving before he even realized what he was reacting to. He spun and crouched, bracing himself.
Melody ran into him full force, launching them both backwards into the trio of gas cylinders. Murdoc's breath left him as his back slammed into the solid metal, the loud clanging of the cylinders overwhelming his short cry of shock.
Melody slammed his head back into the metal tube, dazing him for a moment. She scrambled for the controller on his wrist, her fingers anxiously seeking the clasp.
Murdoc recovered and threw her off him, sending her flying backwards to land roughly a few feet away. They scrambled to their feet, facing each other confrontationally.
"That was a bad decision on your part!" Murdoc snarled, wiping away the thin trickle of blood that ran down the back of his neck, his perfectly coiffed hair disheveled.
Melody could faintly hear MacGyver screaming at her to run, but her mind was focused solely on the man in front of her, her body humming with anticipatory energy.
"Saving someone is never a bad decision," she said softly, her voice velvet steel.
As if by agreement, they both leapt towards each other. Melody aimed for his knees, attempting to take him down long enough for her to release MacGyver, but Murdoc was prepared, his open palm striking her hard in the shoulder- right over her bruise.
She screamed, stumbling backwards and clutching her shoulder, but Murdoc didn't cease his attack, his fist flying forward to strike her powerfully, laying her flat on her back. She blinked up dazedly, unprepared when his boot connected with her bruised side. She let out a choked scream of pain, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of her lip as she coughed weakly, curling to protect her injured side.
"Murdoc, stop!" MacGyver cried, his shouts breaking through finally, his voice strained, "Stop! You'll kill her!"
Murdoc walked around her, blocking MacGyver from her sight, his shadowy profile looming ominously. He stopped behind her, but she dared not move to look. It was MacGyver's strangled, "No!" that gave her scant warning as Murdoc's boot slammed into her ribs once again, the accompanying crack echoing loudly.
Melody couldn't breathe, the warm, bitter taste of blood filling her mouth. Her side was fire, her vision star-filled. She attempted to cough and the fire intensified, burning its way up her esophagus. Her hand clenched and unclenched as she fought to take in air, her labored breathing so painful that it almost seemed worthwhile to stop.
"Melody!" MacGyver cried, kneeling to meet her pain-glazed eyes. He looked up as Murdoc moved, standing between Melody and MacGyver, blocking his view.
"It seems, MacGyver, that you are her weakness as well. Too bad for her."
"Help her, Murdoc! You broke her ribs! She'll suffocate if you don't help her! This wasn't part of our agreement!" MacGyver said, standing.
"Our agreement was voided the moment little Miss Jones attacked me!" Murdoc spat.
While the two men argued, Melody slowly fought her way to her feet, the pain nearly causing her to black out several times. She made it upright, the world swirling slowly around her. There was only one thought she held on to. She had to stop Murdoc.
She threw her arm around his neck, tightening it with the last of her strength, hoping to cut off his air long enough for him to pass out. She knew that if she failed now, MacGyver would die, and, most likely, so would she.
The look of astonishment of Murdoc's face was mirrored by MacGyver. He could only watch as she struggled to keep her grip.
Murdoc was far too experienced to let her succeed. He jammed his elbow back into her broken ribs and her arms went instantly weak as she fought to keep from passing out. He grabbed her arm and yanked her in front of him, his arm around her throat, duplicating her attempt to subdue him. With his free hand, Murdoc reached behind him and pulled his knife.
In one swift motion, Murdoc flipped the knife in his hand and plunged it into Melody's side before yanking it out just as quickly.
MacGyver cried out in wordless horror, watching it happen inches from him and unable to stop it.
As Murdoc released her and backed away, Melody looked at MacGyver, a puzzled expression on her face. It had all happened so fast. She looked down at the gash in her black t-shirt, her fingertips touching the crimson slit. She looked back up at MacGyver, his face twisted in grief and anger.
Melody fell. Without a sound, she crumpled, landing limply on her back, her legs folded haphazardly beneath her. Her blood-covered palm landed open and limp, like a wilting rose, her fingers brushing the glass of MacGyver's cage and leaving faint crimson streaks.
"NO!!" MacGyver howled, falling to his knees and hammering uselessly against the glass, "Melody!!"
She didn't respond; her face, serenely peaceful, marred by the steady drool of ruby blood. As Murdoc's camera flashed, the whole world seemed to be coated in scarlet.
MacGyver stayed on his knees, his forehead and palms pressed against the glass. "No," he sobbed, his voice shaky, his eyes filled with tears.
Murdoc stood between MacGyver and Melody, "You and I are very much alike, MacGyver. Our methods have not differed as much as you pretend. I am but a shadowy reflection of you. It would take only a nudge to make you like me. To push you out of the light," Murdoc said.
"Never," MacGyver said.
"How odd that it should end this way for us after so many stimulating encounters. I almost regret it. Where shall I find a new adversary so close to my own level?"
"Try the sewer," MacGyver spat.
Murdoc repositioned his camera, "I wouldn't mourn too hard, MacGyver. You simply don't have the time," he said, the hiss of gas filling the small glass cage.
MacGyver looked up at him, his eyes rimmed in red, "I've never hated anyone before, Murdoc, but you… you I hate," he said quietly, not bothering to hold his breath as the thick, almond-scented gas filled his lungs.
"Goodbye, MacGyver," Murdoc said as MacGyver sank to the floor, his muscles no longer capable of holding him up.
When the exhaust fans had cleared the last of the gas, releasing it harmlessly into the atmosphere, Murdoc entered the alcove and dragged MacGyver's body out to lie beside Melody. He slipped off his boots, sliding them onto MacGyver's feet and tying them tightly. Murdoc meticulously wiped the hilt of his knife, ignoring the blood-coated blade, and placed it in MacGyver's hand, wrapping his limp fingers around the weapon.
His set-up complete, Murdoc departed… leaving behind two bodies, one carefully edited film, and no fingerprints.
000
When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the scarlet-coated blade in his hand. He blinked at it blearily, wondering why he was holding it. He dropped it and it skittered across the floor.
His head was killing him and his lungs itched. He sat up and coughed, attempting to relieve the odd feeling. Looking over, he realized he was not alone. A woman lay next to him, her head turned away.
"Miss?" he whispered, his throat raw. When she didn't respond, he reached over to shake her. His hand came back bloody. He scrambled to his feet, realizing for the first time that he had not been sitting in a pool of water… but a pool of blood. His jeans were soaked with it, and he followed the stream with his eyes until he saw the gash.
The woman's shirt- the only thing she was dressed in- was sliced open, revealing… a knife wound. He looked over at the knife he had held in his hand.
Had he stabbed her?! Why? But more importantly, was she still alive? As the question entered his mind, he reached his sticky fingers to her throat and felt for a pulse.
There. There was a pulse- weak and thready, but there. Her breath came in soft, wet gasps, audible only when one listened closely. She was dying.
Without another thought, he raised her into his arms, her light body easily lifted from the floor. She left behind a crimson outline, and a steady trail of blood marked their path out of the open door.
They emerged into the strong sunshine of the afternoon, the grass crunching dryly beneath his boots. He followed the sound of traffic, emerging from behind a row of warehouses to see a busy street.
He didn't know what to do- who to ask for help. He walked to the edge of the street, his eyes searching frantically for someone, anyone, who could help.
With the screech of brakes, a police car slid to a stop on the shoulder, the loud crunch of gravel beneath the tires like gunshots.
A cop and his partner got out. He approached them, relieved. They would help her.
"Stop right there," the older cop commanded.
He stopped, confused, "She needs help!"
"What happened?" the younger cop asked, concern written on his face.
He continued forward, ignoring it when the older cop's hand rested threateningly on the grip of his gun. "I don't know, but she's dying. Please, help her!" he pleaded.
"Call for an ambulance," the older cop told the younger one. As the younger cop made the call, the older cop stepped forward. "Who are you? Who's she?"
"I…" he started, and then stopped, "I don't know," he admitted finally, puzzled. He knew he had a name… he just couldn't remember what it was.
"You don't know," the cop repeated dryly- his eyebrow rose.
"I don't remember! I just woke up and she was lying next to me and I went for help. That's all I know!" he insisted.
"Are you hurt?" the cop asked.
"I don't think so," he had to think for a moment, "No, I'm okay."
"So all that blood- that's hers?"
"She's hurt bad," he said, looking down at the woman in his arms in concern. She was very pretty, even with all the blood.
The ambulance arrived, and before he knew what was happening, the EMTs had the woman loaded into the truck.
"Wait! Where are you taking her?" he asked.
The older cop's hand came down heavily on his shoulder, "They'll take care of her. You're going to show me where you 'woke up'."
"Sure," he agreed, glancing back at the ambulance as it took the woman away.
He led the older cop and his partner to the doorway he had emerged from, though they could have easily found it on their own- the blood trail was startlingly obvious.
"My God!" the younger cop muttered as they entered, the puddle of blood, darkened with age, standing out prominently.
"This is where I woke up," he said, pointing at the spot, "She was lying next to me. I thought she was dead at first… so much blood."
"What's this?" the older cop asked, touching the discarded knife with the toe of his boot.
"I don't know," he answered honestly, "I woke up with it in my hand…"
"I see…" said the older cop, approaching him with an odd expression on his face. The cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs.
"What are you doing?" he asked as the cop cuffed his hands behind his back, the younger cop covering them.
"You're under arrest for attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent…"
The cop's voice continued as they herded him, unresisting, from the room.
"MacGyver?!" the bald man asked as he entered the cell, his voice disbelieving.
The man in the cell looked up, his face weary and drawn, "Is that my name?"
"Oh, Mac," the other man said, his face falling. He sat down on the small cot next to him, "My name is Peter Thornton. Your name is MacGyver. I'm your friend and your boss. You work as a consultant for a company called the Phoenix Foundation."
MacGyver sighed, "I have no idea what you're talking about, Peter. I can't remember anything."
"Please, MacGyver, call me Pete. We've been friends for years!"
"Sorry, Pete… I just don't remember you."
Pete sighed, "You've been missing for three days. I looked everywhere! As soon as I saw your apartment, I knew you hadn't left voluntarily."
"Pretty messed up, huh?"
"No!" Pete said with a small smile, "Too neat!"
Mac chuckled a little at that before growing serious once more, "What about the woman?"
"Woman?" Pete asked.
"The one I woke up next to… the one I've been accused of trying to kill."
"Oh," Pete said quietly, "She's… well, she's pretty bad off. They still don't know if she's going to make it."
MacGyver scrubbed his hands across his face, "Did I do it, Pete? Did I stab her?"
"No!" Pete stated definitively.
MacGyver looked up, surprised at the vehemence in his voice, "How do you know?"
"I know you, MacGyver! You could never do that, to anyone!"
"Thanks," Mac said softly, he didn't think he could… but he wasn't sure. All that blood, and the knife in his hand…
"Can you tell me what you do remember?" Pete asked gently.
"I woke up lying on the floor. There was a bloody knife in my hand. I dropped it. When I sat up, I saw her. She was lying next to me. There was so much blood, I thought she was dead. I found her pulse, so I picked her up and took her to get help. The door to the outside was open. I followed the sound of cars to a road. Then the police showed up…" MacGyver gestured around him, as if to say 'you know the rest'.
"Humph," Pete muttered, "And you don't remember anything before that?"
"Nothing."
"How about the room you woke up in? Anything you can remember about that?"
MacGyver thought for a moment, picturing the room in his mind, "It was white. Long, kind of empty-sounding, and… there was a glass room attached to it. It was strange looking- like something was missing."
"Missing?"
"Tubes… or cords. Something. There were holes at the top of the little room and a vent. Oh, and there was something strange on the floor. There was a place where the blood hadn't covered. Three small, square spots- like the points of a triangle," MacGyver said, drawing the triangle in the air before him, "That's all I can remember."
Pete shook his head with a slight smile, "That's a lot more than most people could remember! That triangle, though. It reminds me of something…" he snapped his fingers, straightening suddenly, "A camera tripod! Murdoc, it has to be!"
"Who's Murdoc?"
"He's an assassin that you've dealt with on several occasions. He's like a bad penny, always turning up," Pete said.
"But what does a camera…"
"He likes to take pictures of people he's… killed." Pete said softly, wincing slightly at the insinuation.
MacGyver shuddered, "So, if it was him… one, or both of us, are supposed to be dead?"
"I'll put guards on the woman you rescued, just in case he tries to…"
MacGyver nodded.
"And I'll get you the best lawyer I know. We'll get you out of here, don't worry," Pete said.
"Pete," MacGyver said, stopping him as he started out the door, "Do you think I'll get my memory back?"
"I know you will," Pete said confidently, "Just give it some time."
"Thanks Pete… for everything."
"No problem. And don't worry; you'll be out of here before you know it!"
000
MacGyver pulled at the abrasive collar of his orange jumpsuit as he waited on Pete to start talking.
Pete leaned close to the glass separating them, the small vent muffling his voice, "Mac, you wouldn't believe the evidence they have against you! They won't even let me post bail!"
"How is Miss Jones doing?" MacGyver asked worriedly.
Pete shook his head, "She still hasn't woken up. It's been two weeks. They're afraid if she doesn't wake up soon, she never will."
MacGyver moaned and leaned into his hands, "What am I going to do, Pete? You keep telling me that I couldn't have done it, but everyone else seems so certain I did! And the only person that could clear things up is in a coma!"
"It gets worse, MacGyver," Pete said, his voice serious, "The evidence they have… It's pretty damning."
"What did they find?" MacGyver asked. He knew about the knife, of course, but besides the fact that his fingerprints were on the knife that stabbed her, which Pete had repeatedly pointed out could have been planted in his hand, he didn't know of anything else they could have discovered.
Pete shifted uncomfortably, "When they examined Miss Jones, they found that she had two large bruises, one of which coincided with her broken ribs. She was kicked. The boots you were wearing when they arrested you… they matched the pattern of the bruising. But that doesn't mean you did it! The boots could have been planted, just like the knife!"
"Kicked," MacGyver whispered, sickened.
"There's more," Pete said grimly, "They also found…" he paled at this and swallowed before continuing, "semen. She was… she had…"
"Oh, God!" MacGyver said, his face pale and shocked, "I didn't… It wasn't mine?"
Pete swallowed again before answering, "It was yours."
"How are you going to rationalize that one away, Pete?" MacGyver asked hopelessly.
"I can't," Pete said simply, "And there's more. They have a video. They claim it… Well, that it shows you… hurting her."
"Have you seen it?" MacGyver asked.
"No. They're not releasing it until the trial tomorrow."
"And you still believe I didn't try to kill her?" MacGyver asked, searching Pete's face for an honest answer.
"I still believe in you, MacGyver. I know you would never willingly hurt anyone."
MacGyver nodded slowly, satisfied that Pete was telling him the truth, "I hope you're right, Pete."