Bomb + Doctor + Mattress + Doors
Chapter 5
Ian set the probes down, taking a moment to dab the sweat out of Mac's eyes with a dry cloth. It was a kind gesture, one which Mac couldn't reconcile with the rest of his experience. Figuring it out wasn't high on his list of priorities, but the shifts in the man's demeanor were disturbing.
Mac was having trouble catching his breath. The oppressive heat in the room had grown worse with his exertion. He'd do almost anything for just a sip of water.
"I think I understand you, Angus." Ian said, leaning on the table and watching him closely. "You think you're holding out for some 'greater good.' You think I'm the bad guy, but I'm not."
The absurdity of that statement almost made Mac laugh. Almost. He didn't have the energy or the air supply to laugh.
"I know where your mind is," Ian continued, waxing philosophical. "You're thinking about the slippery slope. You admit one thing, one little thing, and then you won't be able to stop. You'll tell me everything. You think you'll end up betraying your friends, your morals…her."
Mac closed his eyes. Ian was too close to the mark, and he didn't want to inadvertently give anything away…more than he already had, apparently. The man's ability to read him was unnerving.
"But, I've been on that slope, my friend. It doesn't lead where you think it leads." Mac flinched when Ian's voice whispered in his right ear. "Just give me the name of the man who leaked the news about the bomb, and I promise I'll stop."
Opening his eyes slowly, Mac found Ian's face mere inches away from his own. He inhaled the stale air, it smelled of ozone. He struggled with the decision to say anything at all, but finally his mouth made the decision for him.
"I don't know it."
Ian frowned, obviously disappointed.
"I swear," Mac mumbled. He tried to reason with the man even as he struggled to breathe. "I think…I think you can read me well enough…to know I'm telling the truth."
Nodding, Ian straightened up. "I want to believe you, Angus, I do, but you've been so uncooperative. Give me something. Something that will convince me. Tell me who you work for, at least."
Mac closed his eyes again. "I already told you. I work for a th-think tank in Los Angeles."
It had the benefit of being true. The Phoenix was more than just a front for a spy organization. They'd publically done good work all over the world. Mac was proud of his career outside of the spy game. He clung to that half-truth like a drowning man might cling to a life preserver. If Ian could be convinced of that—
But, Ian wasn't convinced. In fact, he sounded angry. "I'm going to ask you one more time, and then, I'm going to bring Riley in here, and you're going to watch me ask her."
"No…." Mac barely had the strength to shake his head.
"Who do you work for?"
Mac choked back a sob. "I'm t-telling you the truth. Please…."
Rage darkened Ian's face. He turned and spun the dial on the black box, changing its low hum to a loud whine. He picked up the probes and touched them to the surface of the metal table.
The current raced along the sheet metal into the four shackles, and from there, lanced through Mac's body like a lightning bolt. He arched off the table, shrieking, as the electricity arced along the length of his exhausted body. The pain was unbearable. All conscious thought in his mind was blasted away, and he was left with only the devastating physical anguish.
Time didn't have any meaning, so he had no idea how long it lasted. He felt himself flop back against the hard table, felt the panic of not being able to catch his breath, felt the sweat rolling down his stinging flesh. Then he heard the probes clang against the table again, and his perceptions were swallowed in agony.
MAC MAC MAC
The screams from down the hall were getting worse, and Riley decided she was running out of time. It was now or never. She advanced on the door once again, and started banging on it as hard as she could, shouting until she hurt her throat.
"Hey! Come in here and face me you ugly bastard! Why don't you be a man?"
She carried on the tirade, making it as much of an affront to his manhood as she could, until it finally paid off. The lock turned, and she jumped into position as the door swung open.
As hoped, Ugly Mustache Guy came through, alone. He had his rifle at the ready, but that didn't matter.
Riley extended the telescopic baton she'd palmed from his belt earlier. It was supremely fortunate that he hadn't noticed it missing. She swung, striking his brachial plexus as hard as she could. The result was immediate, his hand went numb, and he was unable to use his AK.
Giving him no time to recover, she followed with a blow to his groin, and then to his jaw, breaking it with a satisfying crack. As he staggered, she struck again, knocking him unconscious.
Panting, she quickly placed the baton on the ground to jam to door open, then dropped to her knees and pulled out the long strips of fabric she'd ripped from the mattress. It wasn't perfect, but they made decent bonds. She tied his hands and feet tightly, then gagged him with the remaining strip. Dragging his limp form over into the corner behind the door, she placed him out of sight.
She plucked his keys and his sidearm from his belt, checking to make sure it was loaded, and silently thanking Jack for making her proficient in their use. Heading for the door, Riley stopped and went back. Feeling around his pockets, she located what she was looking for, pulling Mac's Swiss Army knife out. "This isn't yours!"
On her way out, she kicked the baton aside, letting the door shut with a clank. The hallway was clear, as she had noted earlier. She started off in the direction of Mac, having a pretty good fix on the source of the screams…though, she noted warily that he'd gone silent.
The only locked door was three down from the cell. Cautiously, she unlocked it with the keys, then readied the gun and kicked the door open. What she found inside caused her heart to jump into her throat.
Mac was stretched out on a table, wrists and ankles shackled, and his coveralls splayed open. Besides the bruises and cuts she'd seen earlier, his upper body was dotted with electrical burns. Worse, he didn't react at all when the door opened.
Standing over him, on the opposite side of the table, was a young man around Mac's age, who looked up in mild surprise when she entered. His surprise faded quickly, and he smiled at her. "Ah, Ms. Davis."
Riley was unnerved by the fact that he addressed her by name even though she'd never seen him before, but she didn't have time to worry much about it. She leveled the handgun at him. "Stay where you are."
He calmly, slowly, clasped his hands in front of him, standing at ease. "I won't interfere."
Eyeing his suspiciously, Riley approached the table. "Are…are you the 'doctor' they were talking about?"
"I am a doctor. At least, I used to be," the man replied. Something about him bothered her. She didn't know if it was his preternatural calm or the realization of what he actually was.
"You're an interrogator."
He arched an eyebrow. "And a very successful one, until today. I'm not too proud to admit that I think I've met my match with Angus."
Riley grimaced, looking down at MacGyver's bound, obviously abused body. "Mac? Mac!"
"He's unconscious," the doctor explained. "I was just about to wake him."
"Stay away from him," she snarled.
He nodded politely. "Of course. I'm going to reach into my pocket, and retrieve the key to his shackles, if that's all right."
She blinked. That was too easy. "You're…letting him go?"
"Of course," he replied civilly. "Clearly my interview is over."
He slowly, deliberately tossed her the key. She caught it, glancing to her hand and back to him. "I don't understand."
"I'm satisfied that Mr. MacGyver doesn't have the information my employers need, and you obviously aren't going to let me continue, so, he's free to go."
"Just like that?"
He simply shrugged.
Riley was aghast. "You just spent all day torturing him. Now, you don't care that he's about to escape? You're just…done?"
The man tilted his head, speaking slowly as though she was a child. "Like I said, I'm finished with my interview."
"What kind of monster are you?" she breathed. His blasé attitude might have been the most frightening thing she'd encountered on this mission.
He frowned. "I'm a professional, Ms. Davis. Now, there's a pale of water over there. It's what I was going to use to rouse him. I suggest you hurry before the men come back. They won't be as willing to let you leave."
"Step back," she ordered. He complied wordlessly, settling against the bench and merely watching her as she approached Mac. Unwilling to dump the water on him, Riley wet her hand in the pale and smacked the less bruised side his face lightly. "Come on. Wake up, Mac."
It took a few seconds before MacGyver's eyes fluttered open. He appeared disoriented. It was awkward trying to unlock the shackles while keeping the gun trained on the doctor, but she managed. It was very difficult to resist the impulse to shoot the smug man.
She carefully zipped up Mac's coveralls, giving him back some of his dignity, at least. "Mac? Can you hear me?"
"Riles?" he whispered, blinking slowly like he was trying to focus on her. "Still dreaming…."
"What? No. I need you to get up, Mac," she urged. "Come on, it's time to get out of here."
Mac's eyes cut from her to the doctor. It was one of the few times Riley had seen that kind of fear on her friend's face. She tried to encourage him. "I've got him covered, Mac. Let's go."
He shifted his gaze back to her, seeming a little more aware, and nodded. He groaned as he tried to stand, and almost collapsed to the floor in the process. Riley maneuvered herself under his arm, and supported his weight as she angled him toward the door. She kept one eye on the doctor as they shuffled toward it.
"Oh, Ms. Davis?" the doctor called out, not moving from his perch on the bench. She turned her head and met his gaze. "When he's up to it, please tell Angus that I hope we can continue our conversation someday."
"Yeah, I'll be sure to do that," she retorted, not hiding her sarcasm or her contempt for the man. If he was offended, he didn't show it, simply nodding to her as they resumed their departure. The urge to shoot him got stronger.
Riley kept her guard up as they exited the room. The hallway was still clear, and the doctor seemed to be making no attempt to follow them. She spared some attention to her charge. "Talk to me, Mac. Are you with me?"
He looked at her for a moment, but she couldn't tell if he was actually seeing her, or even if he was fully conscious. He finally muttered a reply. "Thirsty…."
"I'll try and find you some water, Mac, but we got to keep moving, okay? One foot in the front of the other," Riley urged.
Sluggishly, they proceeded down the hallway, and turned into another. There were still no signs of any more soldiers, which was both a relief and a cause for concern. They could stumble onto them and end up right back where they started, or worse. Mac was clearly in no condition to defend himself.
As they near another turn, she heard shooting up ahead. It was brief, but a definite exchange of fire.
"Can't go that way," Mac said in a low voice, words slurring. He struggled to walk and was shaking like the proverbial leaf.
"Yeah, I think you're right," Riley replied, turning them down a side corridor as quickly as she could. It would help if she knew the way out of the labyrinth of passages. When they were led in, the soldiers had placed a bag over her head.
"I think we're un-underground," Mac murmured. The words were run together. "L-look for a way up."
Another intersection was ahead, but as they got close, Riley heard footsteps. Mac stiffened. At least he was more alert. Riley stopped, getting close to a wall, so Mac could support himself if necessary, and raised her weapon. They wouldn't be going back without a fight.
Seconds later, a new figure came around the corner, and Riley immediately relaxed. "Desi! I am so glad to see you!"
Relief was plain on Desi's face, before her eyes swept across Mac. "Riley! Mac! Are you okay?"
Mac nodded weakly. Riley returned to his side to help get him moving again.
"Is there anyone else down here?" Desi asked, glancing past them, but keeping her attention on Mac's battered face.
Riley nodded. "The guys that did this to him. One's tied up in our cell, the other's still loose."
"The TAC team is right behind me," Desi said, pointing back the way she came. "Go down and take a right. Russ is outside with the Tunisian police. We've rounded up about five of the soldiers."
"Think that's all there was," Mac volunteered. He was getting more coherent, but he was breathing heavily and was visibly faltering. "Except for the ones down here."
Sparing him one last, concerned look, Desi nodded. "Go on, guys, get out of here, I'll meet you outside." She raised her weapon and passed them, proceeding back the way Riley and Mac had come.
MAC MAC MAC
Mac finished off another bottle of water. The metal edge of the Phoenix helicopter's crew cabin floor wasn't the most comfortable place to sit, but it was better than the dirt he had settled for when they'd first emerged from the bunker. His strength was coming back, a little, but he felt like he'd been run over by his own truck. He'd choked down one of the protein bars from the TAC team's field kit, but he was regretting that since it had only made his nausea worse.
He'd changed into a set of spare fatigues borrowed from the helicopter crew, which weren't all that comfortable but they were a moderate improvement over the grungy coveralls that were soaked through with sweat.
Riley sat next to him, and Mac was hoping that Matty wouldn't be able to tell that Riley was the only thing keeping him from falling back and passing out. From the look of Matty's face on the tablet screen, she wasn't buying it.
"As soon as the site is handed over to the Tunisians, you're going to the Naval Hospital in Sigonella. I've already called ahead and told them what to expect."
Mac sighed. "Matty…if it's all right, I just want to come home. I can check in with the infirmary at the Phoenix—"
"Mac, it's hurts just looking at you," Matty retorted, though she actually sounded more worried than critical. "Those doctors are giving you a complete physical before I let you take a fifteen hour trip over the Atlantic."
The last thing Mac wanted was to deal with another doctor, of any kind. He wasn't above begging. "Matty—"
"Matilda, if I might offer a compromise," Russ stepped in, apparently sensing Mac's dilemma. "We have the TAC team medic here, and if she can certify MacGyver is healthy enough to travel, there's no reason we can't delay his hospital stay until tomorrow. Our own doctors can give him a thorough examination at the Phoenix."
Webber pondered that for a moment, then conceded. "All right. But if she doesn't clear you, your ass is headed to Sicily, Blondie, even if Russ has to tie you to that plane."
"Yes, ma'am," Mac replied.
Matty cut the channel. Riley leaned in to whisper in his ear. "If she doesn't clear you, I'll help you hijack the plane."
That summoned a laugh. He looked up at Taylor. "Thanks for that, Russ."
"Think nothing of it," the Englishman replied. "I think you've been poked and prodded enough for one day."
Mac flinched at the words, his mind flashing back to the nine hellish hours he'd spent in that room. If Taylor noticed—which he surely did—he was gracious enough not to acknowledge it.
"In any event, you and Riley can take the jet back. Desi and I will be making sure our six prisoners are settled in the closest prison. I'm just sorry we couldn't apprehend this doctor you mentioned."
Ian had escaped in the confusion. He and his belongings were gone when Desi reached the area of the cellblock. He left no trace behind.
"Rather unfortunate, that," Russ continued. "I've heard of this man, but this is the closest I've ever been to catching him. Apparently, his 'patients' don't often survive."
"I guess I'm just lucky," Mac mused darkly.
Russ took his leave of them. Mac and Riley sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the team and the police secure the bunker and their prisoners. Ugly Mustache Guy was hauled out, resisting his guards, and wrestled into a waiting transport truck.
"Is that the one that you—?" Mac began.
"Oh yeah," Riley said, giving the man a dirty look. "He's the one who knocked you out to begin with, you know."
Mac frowned. "I…barely remember that."
"Speaking of," she continued, reaching into the pocket of her borrowed fatigues. "I got this back from him for you."
She handed over his Swiss Army knife. He reached out and took it, eyes welling up a bit. He had no idea where the rush of emotion came from. "Thanks Riles…."
"Don't mention it," she answered softly. "It felt good taking it back from that asshole."
He shook his head, meeting her eyes briefly. "No, I-I mean, thank you. For getting me out of there."
Eyeing him with concern, Riley placed her hand on his shoulder. "You should rest, Mac. You're about to fall over."
"I'll rest on the plane."
"Mac—"
Whatever she was going to say was interrupted when the TAC team's medic appeared in front of them. Mac reflexively straightened, trying to appear less fragile, which was a difficult act to perform. He tried to summon enough energy to bluff his way through an exam.
MAC MAC MAC
LEAVING TUNISIAN AIRSPACE
…GOOD RIDDANCE
MacGyver was curled up on the couch aboard the jet, wrapped in the thickest blanket he could find. It wasn't helping much. He was still shivering.
"Thought you'd be asleep by now," Riley commented as she entered the passenger cabin from the wash room.
Mac's eyes stopped their listless roaming around the compartment and focused on her. "Ever been so tired you couldn't go to sleep?"
Riley sat down on the carpet, settling with her arms on the couch, facing him. "Yes. How do you feel?"
"I hurt everywhere."
"Need a painkiller?"
"Already took two, just waiting for them to work."
Her gaze took in the blanket. "As hot as it was down there, I thought you'd be enjoying the A/C."
"I'm freezing," he replied, offering her a wry smile. "One extreme to the other."
"Want me to get you some coffee?" His expression must have told her everything she needed to know. "Still nauseous."
"I'm just having a great day," Mac murmured.
Riley adjusted the blanket, bundling him up a little more. "We'll be home in the morning."
He said nothing. She watched him for a moment, before placing her hand over his under the blanket. "What's bothering you, Mac?" At his questioning look, she added. "I know you. I can see those mental wheels grinding from across the room."
Mac grimaced. "He got inside my head, and I can't figure out how."
"What do you mean?"
"He knew about you, and Desi, he knew your names, he knew how I fe—" Mac stopped himself before he said something emotionally incriminating. "He said I told him about you…but I don't remember that."
"Mac, he was putting you through hell. Maybe you did, maybe something slipped out. No one's going to blame you for that. There was no harm done."
He shook his head morosely. "Riles—"
"Hey," she interrupted, taking both his hands in hers. "You'll drive yourself crazy reliving it all. Let it go, okay?"
"What if I gave him more than that?"
"Then we'll deal with it, when the time comes. Right now you just need to worry about getting some rest. Stop being a hero for a few hours."
That made him smile. "Pretty sure you were the hero today, not me."
"Well, I learned from the best," she said, smiling that little smile that he loved seeing, but it faded. "I really thought I was going to lose you, Mac. When I saw you, not moving on that table…I thought it might be too late."
He squeezed her hands lightly. His mind was drifted back to his experience with Ian, despite her sound advice. "At one point…he offered to let me out of the room, just for a little while. I was so tired, and it hurt so much…I would have done anything to get off that table. But, before I got to the door, he said that if I left, he'd bring you in and question you instead."
Riley processed that for a moment. "You stayed."
"It was just a twisted game. He knew I'd stay," Mac said quietly. "He knew I wasn't going to let him hurt you." Mac met her eyes, he needed her to understand. "I'd never let him hurt you."
She reached out and cupped the side of his face that wasn't black and blue with one hand, and gently ran her other hand through his hair. "Hey, it's over."
The gentle motion of her fingers across his scalp was relaxing, and before Mac was aware of it, he started fading into slumber. He struggled to keep his eyes open, to keep talking to her. Riley leaned in closer. "Get some sleep. I'll be right here."
Mac wasn't sure, and was too far gone to confirm, but just as sleep claimed him, he could have sworn he felt Riley's lips meet his.
TBC