"I dunno man. This shit's creepy."
Mac snickered. "Like the Bermuda Triangle?"
"Mac … I know you think it's funny but …"
"Dude, I don't think it's funny. I know it's funny. What the hell was it you were worried about back in Helmond that first time when all those kids went missing. A … rugoo? And then a vampire? But it had to be a red head, right?"
"That's rougarou, smartass. And yeah, there's stories of vampires all over that part of the world. And no, I wasn't worried about them in the same place … See, a rougarou is like a werewolf, and werewolves and vampires are like natural enemies."
Mac snickered. "Did you do anything other than watch B-movies and seduce sorority girls the whole time you were in college … or ..?"
Jack huffed with indignation. Then he smirked. "Don't dismiss the charms of sorority sisters so easily, young Angus."
"Jack Wyatt Dalton, what have we agreed?"
"That if I don't say Angus, you won't make me do math?"
"There ya go, buddy." Mac grinned. "You gotta stop getting in your own head about missions like this, Jack. This is a pretty straightforward human trafficking thing. And so near the border with Mexico? It's probably tied up with that shit from the Sinaloa cartel Matty put us onto a couple months ago. That's obviously why she tapped us for this."
Jack frowned. "Yeah … Maybe. But that close to the border, it could be a Chupacabra," Jack said with what Mac found to be a disturbing amount of sincere concern.
"It's not a Mexican goat sucker, Jack," Mac sighed with real exasperation. "None of that stuff exists. There's no evidence."
"So what? There's no evidence of Santa Claus either, but every year you …"
"Dude, first of all, you know I mostly do that to screw with you."
Jack made his skeptical face.
"Okay … Fine … Not mostly. But the thing is it really is based on being a scientific thinker. Absence of evidence can't be used as evidence of absence. It's just science, Jack."
"So why can't my stuff be real then, genius? It's the same thing!"
Mac shook his head stubbornly. "It isn't though. There've been countless incidents of people presenting so called evidence and it's always debunked as faked. So there's more evidence that people don't even really believe this stuff is real than there is that it could be."
"I … You … Why?" Jack huffed a frustrated breath. He just couldn't argue with Mac when he got like this.
Mac grinned at him. "This is gonna be some run of the mill mission, Jack. We'll bust up the bad guys, hopefully get the missing persons back, and then we'll go home. And nothing more exciting than trying to avoid the press is gonna happen. This is just another day, Jack."
"But there's that request for Phoenix from the locals."
Mac paused in looking over the notes he had pulled up on his tablet. "Yeah? I missed that part."
"'Cause you were already reading, bud."
Mac frowned this time. Phoenix wasn't exactly widely known. "That's weird."
Jack shook his head, turning on the blinker for the appropriate exit. "I have a feelin' we ain't even gotten started on weird, kid."
0-0-0
Mac glanced up when he felt the car slow. They were pulling to the dirt parking lot of about the seediest looking bar Mac had ever laid eyes on, and he'd been in some real dives, all over the world. The blinking neon sign advertised drinks and food. The place was called The Bull Run, and the daisyduke and cowboy hat wearing cartoon woman on the sign was astride a cartoon bull.
"Classy," Mac observed. "Why aren't we at the police station, Jack? We had a late lunch. You can wait until after we meet with the local cops, can't you?"
Jack looked Mac's way and shrugged. "It was the cops who wanted to meet here. The guys who made the request to Phoenix are off duty now and they also figured the consult was better off away from their boss, I guess."
Mac grinned. "Are you sure this wasn't a Jack suggestion? Because we both know you think with your stomach first whenever we're on the road, man."
Jack didn't respond, just put the rental into park and sat looking at the entrance to the bar for a minute.
"Jack, lighten up," Mac coaxed with a teasing grin. "If it's a Chupacabra, I'll take point."
Finally, Jack looked his way and smirked. "I'm gonna hold you to that, kid."
They got out and headed inside. As the opened the door, Jack took a deep breath. "Now I was gonna say that even I couldn't eat in a place that looked this bad, but man oh man, do you smell that grill?"
Mac laughed. "It's your digestive system, pal. You do you."
As they walked in, Mac was struck by how busy and noisy the place was. Not exactly a great location for a meeting with a professional consult you'd requested. Better meeting for covering up noise, having an un-overheard conversation.
Jack put a hand up in front of his partner to stop him going any further. "Well, I'll be damned."
"What is it?" Mac asked, frowning.
"I know those guys." Jack tipped his chin at two guys sitting across the bar in one of the booths. The shorter broader shouldered fellow had a police badge attached to his belt, just visible as he leaned back casually, talking to the tall very lean man across from him.
"You know our local connection?"
"Um, yeah … They're my cousins, actually."
"Do I know them?" Mac asked with a frown, squinting at the guys, trying to place them. He thought he'd met most of Jack's Texas family at one reunion or Fourth of July party or another.
"Nah, bud. They're not from Texas. I prob'ly never woulda met them at all, but our dads crossed paths in the war, so they tried to look out for each other when it was over a little."
"Oh. So they know you work for a think tank? I mean at least that would explain the request ... although I can't imagine why they wouldn't just have called you."
Jack shook his head. "Nah, man. I haven't seen these guys in … fifteen years maybe. I don't know how …" He turned to Mac. "Can you gimme a minute, maybe? Like go get us a couple beers and some food or somethin'?"
Mac widened his eyes, looking around. "I'll go get you some food if you want."
"Thanks, bud," Jack said absently, and strode across the bar toward the two guys leaning toward one another and talking earnestly, only interrupted when the shorter man paused to bite and chew an obscenely large burger.
Mac heard Jack call out, "Dean!" and the guy looked up with a wry smile that made Mac think he could maybe see a family resemblance. Then he turned to order Jack one of the house specialty, proudly advertised as their Heart-Attack Burger, and a couple of beers. Mac ordered himself an IPA, thinking that maybe it had enough alcohol to kill whatever was likely to be on the glasses in a place like this.
When he approached the table with their tray a short time later, Mac overheard Jack speaking.
"So, my partner thinks that this is all tied to some stuff we investigated around the Sinaloa cartel and their human trafficking and drug running activities a couple months ago."
Dean saw the blond approaching and just raised his eyebrows at Jack with a wry grin. "Oh, Jacky-boy, I think our bad guy's from a lot further south."
Mac set the tray down on the table directly in front of Jack.
"Like Guatemala?" he asked.
He'd heard of some political unrest in Central America. Maybe this was more complicated that he had thought.
The man smirked up at him. "Not exactly, kid. Like all the way south."
"Huh?" Mac shook his head, like maybe he didn't understand the words that had come out of Jack's cousin's mouth.
The shaggy haired tall guy sitting next to Jack gave Mac an almost sympathetic look. "Hi, you must be Jack's partner … MacGyver, right?"
Mac nodded, still looking wary.
"I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. And in case you hadn't gotten a read on him yet, he likes to screw with the new guy. Always. When he says 'south' he's being metaphorical."
"Metaphorical?" Mac threw a glare at Jack and at Dean.
Dean just gave a double raise of his eyebrows.
Mac snapped, "What the hell?"
A grin split Dean's whole face. "Exactly, kid."