****Apologies t those who live in and know Los Angeles. I know only what's on the net. The landmarks exist but have been changed to fit the needs of the story.

Mac's fever and the storm broke two days later. Both men slept and played cards. Jack wanted to improve his poker game, so he had a chance of winning against Sally's sister Sam. Mac threw the cards on the table and stretched. Jack placed his cards faced down on the table and studied his friend. Mac huffed, stood and went over to the front door. Mac looked a lot better, not as pale or haggard, but he still had a haunted shadow deep in the depths of his baby blues that Jack did not like. Mac had also gotten more restless, on edge. He had something gnawing at him. Every time Jack asked, Mac would shrug in frustration and shake his head unable to nail it down.

Soft rain still fell, but after the torment of the storm, it felt like a cleansing shower. Mac stepped out onto the porch and shrugged his shoulders. His burns still hurt like hell but they had healed enough to be itchy; it was maddening. Mac gazed out at the aftermath of the storm. The dock was damaged, the beach snaked with streaks of leaves and broken branches. Two old oaks had fallen one covering the drive, narrowly avoiding Jack's GTO the other leaned up against the barn. Mac crossed his arms. He felt uneasy. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Mac sighed and closed his eyes listening to the soft rain and reluctant bird singing. Jack stepped out beside him. Mac glanced over and offered a wry smile.

"At least it didn't land on the GTO." Jack chuckled. Before he could reply, Mac's phone rang. They both jumped then shared amused looks.

"It's Matty." Mac murmured as he answered the phone.

"Hey, Matty…" Jack began.

"The Ghost has escaped," Matty announced without preamble. The two men gaped at each other.

"What happened?" Mac asked clearing his throat. Jack eyed him seeing that tense shadow grow to worry.

"We aren't sure. He was transported to DHS, all we know is the cell block he was locked in exploded." Matty explained.

"The blast also took out the surveillance for the whole building." Riley chimed in; Mac frowned and ran a hand through his hair. He stared at the distant remains of his rowboat slowly circling in the currents like a floating twig.

"Mac? I can smell the smoke of those wheels spinning over here." Jack asked. Mac frowned.

"Why now?" Mac looked over at Jack. "He was able to walk through Phoenix enough to plant four bombs unnoticed; he could have left at any time."

"He probably was waiting out the storm." Riley offered. Mac smiled.

"Why? Escaping would have been easier with the storm as cover."

"So the question is…" Jack began.

"What's he up to." Maggy finished a sour look on her face. Jack's eyes narrowed, and he began to scan the area around them with suspicion. Mac didn't notice; Matty did.

"You think he's going there?" Matty asked stepping forward worry on her face.

"No, he's…" Mac began. Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him back into the cabin drawing his Baretta. Mac pulled free. "Jack what are you doing? Let me go." Jack let go of Mac and ducked looking out the windows as he pulled the shades. Mac huffed and turned his attention to Matty.

"He's not coming here, he's…" Mac's voice trailed off. Jack turned recognizing the tone and the faraway look.

"He's what?" Matty demanded. Mac glanced at Jack a worried look on his face.

"Riley, were any public services knocked out by the storm?" Mac said ignoring Matty.

"Uh...public sewage down by city hall, plumbing, electric but that's back up…"

"Where?" Mac asked tensely. Riley rattled off a long list of blocks. Mac shook his head.

"Dammit! We have to get back to LA now." He said matching his urgent tone with movement.

"Mac, wait!" Jack again grabbed Mac by the shoulders. "What? What is it?" Mac growled with impatience.

"The nuclear sensor network nodes run along the same path as the electrical outages."

"He blew them up?" Jack asked wide-eyed.

"And used the storm to cover it up," Matty said whirling to Riley. Riley looked up from her laptop horrified.

"They're up, but not transmitting their readings."

"And?" Matty asked.

"Matty, they've been alerting all day."
"The Ghost has nukes?" Jack asked. Mac's jaw clenched.

"No, but he probably has enough material to make dirty bombs."

"And he's had plenty of time to plant them. I'm sending a helicopter to you."

"Acknowledged," Jack said already following Mac to gather their go bags.

The chopper buzzed across a steel gray overcast sky. Jack looked at the churning clouds with a frown; the city sprawl grew below them. The storm system had finally moved out to see but left a continuous shower and occasional thunderstorm in its wake. He could see sparks of blue over the ocean. Jack swallowed his mind rerunning the image of Mac collapsing dead after channeling an electrical pulse. Jack closed his eyes again feeling the sinking fear he felt when he couldn't find Mac's pulse. Acid burned the back of Jack's throat. He glanced over at Mac who leaned over a tablet and a pad of paper.

"Riley, send me the current wind direction and strengths from LAX." Jack frowned. Riley rattled them off not wasting time asking questions. Mac closed his eyes; his lips moved as he carried out some calculation in his head. Jack barely breathed not wanting to distract his partner. Mac looked down and used his finger to mark a line on the map of Los Angeles. Mac looked like he'd just drank vinegar instead of water. He looked at Jack.

"Santa Monica pier," Mac said. Jack glanced at the pilot who was already rerouting.

"You sure?" Jack asked studying the younger man. The tension corded through Mac's body almost making it vibrate. Mac swallowed, his only outward sign of the pressure he felt.

"As sure as I could be. If I were the Ghost that's where I would put a bomb." Mac turned to look down at the pier below. Thanks to the recent storm the usual crowd of beach bunnies and tourists were absent. The beach, streaked by long rivulets of seaweed, frothed with violent waves. The pilot set down in the parking lot closest to the park. Mac was out and running down the wooden pier past the closed booths, and tourist shops before the rotor cycled down. Jack swore and jumped out running to catch up to his partner.

The surf slammed into the wood and nearby beach relentlessly causing a rhythmic punching sound. The wind whipped their clothes back; rain sandblasted them causing them to blink as they navigated the blurry landscape. Mac bent before the front gate. Jack reached his side and sluiced water off his face as the wall around them protected them for a minute against the storm. Mac's hair hung in limp strands covering his face. He flipped it back and smiled at Jack as the lock clicked open. He opened the gate which was taken from his hand by the wind to slam back against the wall behind it.

Mac held up a hand and jumped over the handrails which typically helped control the long lines of ticket buyers. He paused breathing hard, his brain whirling. He looked up over the bright orange ribbon of the rollercoaster track over their heads to the Ferris wheel. Jack followed his gaze.

"Oh hell no, you can't think…"

"C'mon," Mac said with a miserable scowl. Surrounded by the booths and rides, the storm seemed calmer. Jack looked up at the Ferris wheel and tried to swallow around a lump.

"Something tells me we're going to be going to the top of that thing," Jack yelled. Mac didn't answer just jumped over another run of handrails. He stopped and covered his gaze with his hand as he studied the ride's covered carts and braces. Jack looked up with a tight grimace. It looked a hell of a lot higher from the bottom of it.

"There!" Mac called pointing. Jack followed his finger to a narrow cross brace over the carriage rails at the ride's peak. Two triangular flags on either end snapped taut in the wind.

"It wouldn't do much damage there," Jack said. Mac glanced at him as he ran to the ride's controls.

"The explosion of a dirty bomb usually doesn't have a lot of concussive force." Mac smiled at Jack's blank look. He hunched over the lock to a small booth. "The explosion doesn't have to blow stuff up; it's there to spread the radiation particles into the atmosphere." Jack's eyes widened. He looked at the flags whose points aimed as steady as compass needles toward the heart of Los Angeles.

"That would poison thousands."

"And panic everyone else." Mac finished pulling the door open with a final twist. The next second melted into slow motion. Jack heard the familiar click of a full auto rifle accompanied by a soft whir behind them. He whirled seeing the barrel of three M60 rifles swivel smoothly toward them. Jack shoved Mac inside the booth diving after him. They hit the floor of the box just as the walls were chopped into splinters by an ear-bursting barrage of gunfire.

"Shit!" Jack growled as he covered his head with his arms. Polyethene glass showered down on them. Mac grimaced and rose to his knees glancing at the controls in front of him. Jack reached up and grabbed him by the collar yanking him down. Mac slammed back first onto the wood as the console erupted with bullet holes, instantly reduced to sparking wires. Mac gasped, his face paling as he arched his back. His hand automatically grabbed Jack's arm at the flare of agony ripping through his body.

"Sorry, bro," Jack said ducking another shower of splinters. Mac closed his eyes and took deep breaths trying to control the pain of his burns from the impact with the ground. He nodded at Jack and smiled weakly.

"'S ok." He began growing around the circles the large caliber bullets punched into the dwindling cover.

"I don't mean to hurry you, Mac…"

"But we're losing out cover." Mac finished frowning as he looked around the booth. He glanced over at Jack.

"How many?"

"Three, but I think they're mechanical." Mac looked at Jack with a frown. That could work to their advantage. Automatic machine gun nests needed sensors; sensors could be tricked.

"Any help, Riley?"

"No, they aren't connected to any WIFI or net I can hack." Her frustration was easy to hear. Mac frowned as he looked up at the control panel. The biggest thing in the center of it was a solid metal bracket that held the shifting gears that controlled the ride. Mac pulled the screwdriver out of his knife and grunting with effort reached up one hand and began to undo the screws holding it. Mac yelped and jumped as a bullet ricocheted off the bracket itself.

"Mac?" Jack yelled. Mac shook his hand and offered a reassuring smile. Jack was not reassured. "When will these things run out of ammo?" Jack turned his head away as a shower of splinters flew toward his face. He spit out bits.

"Long after we run out of shelter. Look for a bolt hole." Jack nodded and slowly slid closer to one of the lower holes. "Not much out there...the closest thing is a booth like this a hundred feet away. Do you think they can swivel that far?" Mac shrugged and slid out the scissors. He leaned under the bottom of the console and cut wires. "Grab the bottom of the cushion." Jack followed his nod and blinked. A thick padded seat jutted from the other side of the booth. Jack hadn't noticed. It made sense; operators were probably trapped out here all shift. Jack yanked his hand back as he reached for the seat. A bullet pinged off the wood it sat on. Jack grabbed the cushion with both hands and tugged with all his strength. The pillow ripped, and Jack flopped backward narrowly missing another row of tracers that stitched across the booth. Jack turned to Mac who was sliding his knife in his could see him gather himself, an expression Jack hated.

"Mac what are you…?" Mac raised to his knees and grabbed the bracket as he pulled it toward him he grunted and fell back blood spraying from his side.