"So we finally meet."

Mac's blood froze in his veins. The car felt so much colder then the outside where the cold and fresh wind was blowing. But it was no cold that would cool your temperature, it was a cold that would freeze your moving and thinking, causing you to shiver.

But Mac mustn't let it show! Because he wasn't Mac. He was Murdoc – a cold blooded killer.

Even though Mac was curious who was sitting at the back seat, Mac knew better than to frankly turn around. As a killer, he should not be interested in the client but more in the job.

"What about this treatment?", he asked, voice deep and cold, cap pulled deep into his face, creating a shadow over his eyes. "First a little running, then some kind of test and finally my cellphone being crashed. Is this how you normally deal with your employers?"

A chuckle from the back. Mac looked up surprised. It was then he noticed that a second person was sitting in the back. He was visible in the rear mirror, but as Mac could tell, it was just another lackey wearing a black suit. Just like the driver next to him.

"You know, Murdoc", his client said, pronouncing the name Murdoc extra hard which made Mac feel very uneasy all of the sudden, "It is a very important job. And I want to give it the best."

"A very important job I still don't know anything about", Mac commented calmly. But his nerves were on fire. He really felt the need to get off this car right now. And the faster the better. He really needed to get over with this conversation.

"Please, don't get angry", the man said, "I just wanted to see if you are the perfect man for this job."

"So as I'm sitting in your car, I guess I passed your little test", Mac concluded. His eyes moved to the rear mirror once again, in hope to finally see the man, but still only his lackey was visible.

"I like you", the man agreed, "I like you quite a lot."

Mac felt disgusting. A chicken skin crawled over his whole body. Yes, he should really get over this conversion quickly.

"I want you to find a man."

Mac grew suspicious. "Find?! Not Kill?!"

"Slow", the man said, "First of all I want you to find him. Then I want you to question him."

"I'm not with the police, you are aware of that, right?", Mac growled grimly. This conversation was not going the way he wanted to. He was not hired to kill someone even he was an assassin. The whole contract seemed odd. For such a simple mission his client could hire any thug lingering downtown, so why contacting an actual assassin.

"I do know", the man said and it seemed he was getting annoyed with Mac's behaviour. But Mac wasn't too unhappy about this. Maybe his client would decide he wasn't the right man for the job and would undo the contract. So Mac could finally stop this mission that was definitely going out of hand. But on the other hand, if this man didn't want to have any witnesses, he was as good as dead with now six men in black against him. And they were all large built.

"I'm sorry", Mac tried to appease the man, "but it doesn't follow my principles to be hired for questioning my targets. Normally I don't ask any questions at all."

"I understand your concern", the man acknowledged, "So I want you to get the man out of business after you received the information I wish for."

"This sounds more like my profession." He almost startled. Mac couldn't believe he just said that. "Who is my target?"

With that a brown folder was given to him. Obviously it was with the lackey to begin with.

"This is the information of the man. When you have found him, contact me. Then you will get further information."

"So again, the job remains a mystery", Mac growled angrily. "I don't like your way of doing contracts." With this he opened the file. A photo lay on top of some sheets.

Mac's eyes grew wide. His heart stopped.

Leave the car!

Right now!

"Oh, I really like my way of doing deals, Macgyver."

With this, strong hands grabbed him from behind and the side. The folder with the photo slipped out of his hands as he began to struggle. One hand from the lackey behind him grabbed his chin in a fierce grip and pushed his head onto the head rest so he couldn't move much. As Mac tried to lung for it with his hands, they were quickly secured by the man on the driver's seat, keeping them into Mac's lap with one hand while the other pushed down hard on his chest.

Panic started to overwhelm him as he tried to free himself. He growled loudly and trashed around in the seat, but it was to no avail. Behind him, the client laughed.

"Let go!", he screamed, "Let g-!"

He couldn't finish the word as a rag was pressed over his mouth and nose, muffling any sounds he would produce. Mac was so surprised by the fact that his eyes grew wide and he moaned into the cloth. But with that he recognized a familiar smell – chloroform!

Mac's panic grew even more as he desperately stopped himself from breathing, but he knew it was only a matter of time until he would pass out. Desperately he tried to free his hands that were still clamped between his legs, but the man holding him was too strong. So his only chance was to shake the cloth off his face, but as soon as the man behind him noticed it, his head was pressed even harder against the head rest.

Mac felt that he was losing the fight. His struggles slowed down with every second as he breathed in more and more of the sickly chloroform. His movement ebbed out, his vision blurred as his eyes slowly began to close. With a last effort he tried to stay conscious but he was finally losing the battle against the darkness.

The last thing he saw as his head was finally released and dropped onto his chest was the folder, now lying on the floor right between his feet. The document was still present, so was the photo. It was a photo of a young man, late twenties, laughing, wine glass in one hand. Blond hair. Blue eyes.

Baby blue eyes.

Jack felt a chill on his back. Something was definitely off.