*************
It was a beautiful, sunny afternoon. Pete Thornton smiled and turned his face up toward the sun. Although he couldn't really see it, he knew there wasn't a cloud in the sky. A perfect Saturday. He stretched out in his deck chair, and turned on his CD player. It had been a very stressful week at the Phoenix Foundation -- something that was far from uncommon these days -- and Pete was determined to do nothing more strenuous today than sipping iced tea and listening to an audio novel.
His idyll was shattered by the ringing of his telephone. Pete pointedly ignored it, letting the answering machine pick up. But when he heard the familiar voice of Kate Murphy drifting outside through the screen door, he decided to answer after all.
"Pete," Kate said with relief. "I'm glad I caught you."
"Is something wrong?" Pete had detected an edge to her voice that was not normally present and felt a faint stirring of alarm ripple through his stomach.
When she didn't continue, Pete forced himself to ask, though he had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he heard. "What's going on?"
"I've got a bank robbery that's turned into a hostage situation," Kate began. "And MacGyver is right in the middle of it."
"That figures," Pete sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "What can I do to help?"
"I don't suppose you have a negotiator on staff at Phoenix, do you?" she asked hopefully. "Ours is on the East Coast getting some training at the FBI academy."
"I'll see what I can do," Pete said earnestly. "Is Mac all right?"
"He's been better, Pete." Kate paused, unsure of how to tell him the rest. "There's more ...it's ..." She paused again and took a deep breath. "Pete, the bank robbers killed Sam."
"God, no!" Pete gasped in horror. "Why?! How?!"
"We don't know. Everyone's still inside."
"How do you know he's ...?" Pete couldn't bring himself to say the words.
"Mac told me," Kate said sadly. "The bank robbers seem to have appointed him to be their go-between with the police. He wasn't able to say much." She explained what they knew of the situation to Pete. He listened silently, feeling invisible fingers of grief, anger, and disbelief close around his heart, squeezing until it seemed he could hardly breathe.
"Dammit, hasn't the man seen enough tragedy in his life?!" Pete fumed and began cursing the bank robbers and every other kind of evil in the world.
Kate didn't answer. She felt as angry and helpless as he did, and silently joined him in railing against the injustice of it all, wishing with all her might that things could be different.
"I know. I'll get you whatever help I can from my end."
"You'd better call my cell phone," Pete said, giving her the number. "I'm coming down there as soon as I can. Mac's going to need all the support he can get."
"You won't get any arguments from me," Kate replied. "I'll make sure my people let you through."
Pete replaced the telephone handset in the cradle slowly. The day that had seemed so perfect had suddenly turned into a nightmare. A wave of grief overcame him, and he felt hot tears stinging his eyelids as he thought about his friends. In the years that he had known him, Pete had become something of a surrogate uncle to Sam. The thought that he would never see the young man again made his blood run cold. He could only imagine what MacGyver was going through. This was going to devastate him, if it hadn't already.
Wiping his eyes, Pete determinedly picked up the telephone. Savagely punching in the numbers, he started making calls. If there was ever a time to call in favors, it was now.
*************
"Hmm?" Reluctantly, Kate tore her gaze gaze away from the front of the bank, which she had been contemplating gloomily.
"Look," Henderson said impatiently as he spread open the set of blueprints for the bank on the trunk of the car. "I spoke to the bank president when he brought these plans over. The top two floors of the building are offices, completely separate from the branch operation on the main floor. They even have separate entrances." He pointed to a network of lines running between the floors of the building. "But the ventilation system is shared. I can get some of my people inside via the ventilation ducts on the second floor."
"Are they big enough for someone to fit inside?" Kate asked skeptically.
"Barely, but I think it will work." Henderson pointed to several squares on the diagram. "There are air vents that open directly into the offices that run along both sides of the building. We can have them surrounded before they ever know what hit them."
"I don't know." Kate ran a hand through her hair. "I don't want the hostages getting caught in the crossfire."
"We need to wait until we can get word inside. I think Mac can help us with the hostages if we can let him know what's going down."
"You sure about that?" Henderson eyed her doubtfully. "You said yourself that he might not be up for this."
Kate nodded. "Have your guys get into place. Tell them to wait for our signal before they move in."
"Will do." Henderson trotted off toward his black SWAT van, rapidly barking orders into his radio.
Kate cast a pensive glance toward the front of the building. MacGyver had more inner strength and fortitude than anyone she knew, but even he couldn't keep it together forever. "Hang in there for me, Mac. Just a little while longer," she said softly.
*************
As hard as he tried, MacGyver couldn't seem to stop his eyes from drifting toward the trail of blood that stained the floor. It was like trying to drive past a car accident without looking. But every time he looked, the image of his son lying lifeless and bloody on the floor flashed before his eyes and sent fresh stab of pain through him. Tearing his gaze away, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, trying desperately to keep his emotions at bay. There would be time enough for that later, but right now, he didn't have the luxury of falling apart. Too many lives, his own included, depended on him.
The police were running out of options and sooner or later they were going to have to take some action. MacGyver knew that any move the police made would put the hostages at great risk. They were an untrained group of frightened people who would likely panic if the police stormed the bank, as MacGyver suspected they would, and there would almost certainly be casualties unless he could do something to help. His presence there had provided the police with the option not usually available to them. An experienced and knowledgeable person on the inside would allow them to take more drastic action, since they knew that he could help protect the hostages. For that reason, MacGyver pushed his grief back into a corner of his mind and focused instead on finding a way to keep the hostages safe.
"How long do you think it will be before they send you out there again?" Bill asked softly.
"I don't know," MacGyver said. "The police are going to stall for as long as possible."
"Be quiet!" The stocky man in the business suit hissed at them. "You're going to make them mad."
Bill glared at the man. "Mind your own business, pal."
"It is my business," the man said haughtily. "I plan on getting out of here alive."
"Who put you in charge?" The man looked at MacGyver disdainfully.
"I did," Bill said threateningly. "The man knows what he's talking about. If you're smart, you'll listen to him."
"Putz," Bill muttered under his breath.
MacGyver smiled faintly, but the scene had him worried. Business Suit might be a problem if they didn't watch out. One loose cannon was all it would take to make the already-volatile situation worse. He was going to have to be careful.
*************
The sounds of frantic activity assaulted Pete's ears as soon as he opened the car door. The murmurs of the crowd mingled with the shouted commands and crackling radios of the police as he made his way toward the center of the action. It was a sound that was altogether too familiar, and Pete wished, not for the first time, that he didn't have to hear it again, especially not with MacGyver involved.
"My name is Pete Thornton. Lt. Murphy is expecting me," Pete explained.
"Oh yes. Right this way sir."
He heard Kate almost immediately, giving orders with crisp efficiency. But Pete could hear the underlying frustration in her voice, the same frustration he was feeling at his own helplessness. "Kate." He greeted her when she had stopped speaking.
"Pete!" Kate rushed over and gave him a quick hug. "I'm glad you're here."
"I haven't got any better news," Pete said regretfully. "Both of our hostage negotiators are out of the country. There's no way we could get them here in time to do any good."
"With the way things have been going, I'm not surprised," Kate said tiredly.
"Yeah, it is. They're not leaving us much choice. We're going to have to go in after them."
"No doubt," Pete said assuredly.
"I'll give him the details next time they send him out," Kate explained. "I'm hoping he can help us out with the hostages."
"God, Pete. I hate having to ask anything more of him," Kate said regretfully. "This has got to be tearing him apart."
"I know," Pete said sympathetically. "But it doesn't sound like there are a lot of other options."
"No, there aren't," Kate said defeatedly. "These sickos have killed two people already. They shot another guy because we didn't give them the beer they asked for, and it looks like they've been beating on Mac and maybe some of the other hostages."
"They're a violent bunch, all right. I just don't know how much more Mac can take."
"MacGyver's tough. If there's a way to keep the rest of the hostages safe, you can count on him to find it."
"I know." Pete put a hand on her shoulder and the two of them stood together silently, not wanting to give voice to the distress they felt about the situation.
*************
Pain. It was the first thing he became aware of as consciousness gradually returned. Slowly, he opened his eyes and tried to focus through the red haze that clouded his vision. The fuzzy shape he was looking at eventually resolved itself into a file cabinet, and Sam realized he was in an office of some sort. And he was lying on the floor, if the itchy feeling of rough carpeting pressing into his cheek was any indication. He lifted his head carefully, wincing at the sharp pain that the motion produced. With slow, deliberate movements, he finally managed to push himself into a sitting position. Leaning against the file cabinet, Sam closed his eyes and waited for the room to stop spinning.
Gingerly, he reached up and touched the side of his head that hurt the worst, grimacing when his fingers brushed through hair that was stiff with dried blood along the deep furrow that ran from his temple to the back of his head. His hand came away streaked with blood, but the wound didn't seem to be bleeding too badly. Sam sighed and let his eyes roam the small office where he sat, stopping when he saw the body of the security guard on the floor next to the desk. Puzzled, he stared for a moment before the memory of what had happened floated back into his consciousness.
But what was he doing in here? Sam frowned and touched his head again, then suddenly realized that the bank robbers must have thought he was dead, like the guard -- why else would they have dragged him into this office? They must have gotten tired of looking at their handiwork, Sam concluded disgustedly. Then another terrible thought struck him. If the bad guys thought he was dead, then so did everyone else, including his father ...if he was still alive himself. Sam felt a sudden chill as he remembered seeing his father heading toward him right before he was shot. If they turned the gun on him too...
Sam crawled toward the front of the office quietly, careful not to move too quickly, lest the nausea overcome him. It would be difficult to keep his non-deceased status a secret if they overheard him barfing his guts out. He finally made it to the front of the office where he peeked carefully around the edge of the blinds that hung in the glassed-in upper portion of the wall.
The situation didn't appear to have changed. The office he was in was on the right side of the lobby, giving him a clear view of the hostages, who were still clustered against the wall on the leftmost side of the building. Three of the bad guys were sitting around the security station, drinking beer and watching the monitors, while the fourth was guarding the hostages. Sam smiled with relief when he located MacGyver sitting on one side of the group of captives. But the smile faded when he saw the dark bruise on his father's face and the haunted look in his eyes as he sat staring blankly toward the front door.
"Aw man," Sam whispered. He hated seeing that look on his father's face, not to mention the bruises. With a sigh, he sank back down to the floor and stared morosely at the dead man next to the desk, realizing how lucky he was to still be breathing. If the bullet had hit him a fraction of an inch closer... Sam shook his head to chase that depressing thought away, but instantly regretted it when the room flipped upside down and his stomach threatened to do the same. Shutting his eyes tightly, he took deep breaths until the queasiness subsided.
His head was pounding mercilessly and Sam wanted nothing more than to crawl into a corner and go to sleep, but he forced his eyes open, determined to find some way, any way, to help get his father and everyone else out of this mess. The first order of business, though, was to see if he could find some way to subdue the relentless throbbing in his head. Quietly, he crept on his hands and knees toward the desk, grimly skirting the body on the floor. A glint of metal suddenly caught his eye and he paused, reaching toward it curiously.
Peeking from beneath the edge of the security guard's pant leg was a small metal buckle. Sam pushed the fabric back to reveal an ankle holster containing the man's backup weapon. He hesitated only a moment before removing the gun and tucking it into the waistband of his pants, tugging the guard's pant leg back into place to conceal the empty holster. His father might not approve of guns, but under the circumstances, Sam figured it was better that the weapon was in his hands instead of the bank robbers'.
He continued moving silently across the floor until he was behind the desk. With excruciating care, he opened each of the desk drawers, searching them until he found a small bottle of aspirin. Thankfully, Sam shook several into his hand and swallowed them dry. While he waited for the aspirin to take effect, Sam contemplated his next course of action. Alone and in his present condition, he couldn't do a whole lot to help. He could try to call the police, but he doubted that they would be able to do anything more than they were already. The office had no window to the outside, only a narrow section of glass block on the outside wall to provide some natural light, so escaping the building was out of the question. His only real option was to wait until the police crashed the party or the gunmen made a move. With a sigh of resignation, Sam made his way back to his post by the interior window to watch and wait.
*************
"Uh-oh." Bill nudged MacGyver's arm, rousing him from his gloomy reverie. "Bad guys at twelve o'clock."
MacGyver looked up to see Carl and Del approaching. Carl stopped in front of him and kicked his foot. "Okay, on your feet. You're going to talk to the cops again, find out when we're getting our chopper," Carl stated as he ushered MacGyver toward the door.
"Quit dragging your feet!" Del said as he jammed his gun into MacGyver's back. "We don't have all day."
MacGyver stifled an angry remark and followed Carl silently to the door. "Anything else you want me to tell them?" he asked, unable to keep the tired sarcasm out of his voice, as Del unlocked the door.
"Keep it up, smartass, and I'll send you to join your pal in the other room." Carl said menacingly as he pressed the barrel of his gun under MacGyver's chin. MacGyver stared at him with empty, emotionless eyes as he was pushed out the door. Outside, he scanned the crowd carefully as he walked slowly toward the large contingent of police with his hands in the air.
*************
"He's coming out again, Murphy," Henderson's voice called over the radio.
"I see him," Kate replied into her handset. "Pete!" She jumped out of the back of the communications van and hurried around to the front, where Pete was standing, listening to the activity that swirled around him. "They're sending Mac out again. I'm going to talk to him now."
"Tell him...," Pete paused. "Just tell him I'm here."
"Come with me." Kate took his arm and led him up to the police line in front of the bank. "He'll be able to see you from here."
Kate stepped between the patrol cars and out into the street, holding her hands out to her sides as she moved to meet up with MacGyver. As before, they stopped in the center of the street.
"How are you doing, Mac?" She studied her friend, noting with concern the lines of strain etched in his face. When he looked up to meet her gaze, Kate was shocked at the dull, dispirited look in his eyes.
"I'm fine," he said with a shrug as he looked into Kate's gray-blue eyes, which were now clouded with concern for him. "They want to know when the chopper's going to get here." MacGyver rolled his eyes with disgust, knowing that the police weren't going to deliver any helicopter.
"You know the answer to that as well as I do," Kate said. "We couldn't land a chopper near here anyway, even if we did intend to get them one."
Kate smiled weakly. "I told Pete that you would figure it out."
MacGyver looked over Kate's shoulder and saw his friend standing next to a police car. "What's he doing here?"
"I called him. I thought he should know."
"Thanks," MacGyver said softly. It meant a lot to him to have the support of his friends. "So what's the plan?"
"I need your help, Mac," Kate said, knowing their time was limited. "We're going to try to take them. Do you think you can get the hostages clear?"
"I can try," he said soberly. "If you can signal me before you move in, I can have them ready to take cover when the fun starts."
"Okay. Barring any complications, we'll page you five minutes before we hit them." Kate waved her hands in an exaggerated shrug, using the movement as a distraction while she surreptitiously slipped a tiny pager into his hand. "It's set on vibration mode."
MacGyver nodded and tucked the small device into his pocket. "What do I tell them?"
"Tell them we can't bring a helicopter in here, so we'll be getting them a van to take them to the park in an hour. There's lots of open space there where we can land a chopper."
"They only have to believe it for a little while." Kate regarded him soberly. "Be careful, Mac. And good luck."
MacGyver gave Pete and Kate one last look, before turning back toward the bank. He used the short walk to regain the tentative hold he had on his emotions. Distress for him had been plainly evident on his friends' faces, and the strength of those emotions threatened to shatter his fragile self-control. But by the time he reached the front door of the bank, he had managed to shove his feelings aside and restore the mask of calm that he would need to get through this crisis. Taking a deep breath, MacGyver pulled the door open and stepped once more into the lion's den.
"Well?" Carl and the other three bank robbers glared at him expectantly.
"They said they can't land a helicopter near here, so they're bringing a van to take you to the park. They're going to land the chopper in one of the open areas."
"That's bullshit!" Del exploded. "What kind of games are they trying to play?!"
"What did you tell them?" Carl asked, stepping closer to MacGyver.
"It might be the truth, Carl," said J. J. "They can't land it in the street, and their probably isn't a helipad nearby. It's only the big buildings downtown that have those."
"Dammit," Carl said angrily. "This complicates things."
"Neither do I, but it's our only option." Carl jabbed MacGyver in the side with his gun. "Go sit down."
Wordlessly, MacGyver did as he was directed, calmly returning to his seat on the floor with the other hostages. The four gunmen continued their heated discussion, all but ignoring them. MacGyver took advantage of the opportunity and turned to the rest of the hostages.
"Okay everyone, listen up," he said softly. "The police are going to try to get us out of here."
"What do you mean?" asked Barbara.
"That means, they are going to bust in here and try to take them by surprise," MacGyver explained, causing a soft murmur of fear to ripple through the group. "Don't worry. All we have to do is to be ready to move when the police rush them ."
"Move where?" Bill asked.
"When I tell you, I want everyone to move behind the teller's counter as quickly as you can," MacGyver said soberly. "There's going to be bullets flying everywhere so you need to keep your heads down and get yourselves out of the line of fire. Okay?" The hostages nodded and whispered their assent nervously.
"You sure about this?" asked John.
John nodded his understanding, exchanging a grim look with his friend Bill. The rest of the hostages, as well, seemed to understand the gravity of their situation, and MacGyver was confident that they would do as they were told. Pleased with their cooperation, he didn't notice the sly expression that settled on Business Suit's face, and was taken by surprise when the man suddenly jumped up and ran toward the bank robbers.
"Hey!" Bill hissed at him, attempting and failing to grab the man's jacket as he passed.
"Aw man," MacGyver said with dread as the four felons converged on the fleeing man. "The best laid plans of mice and men...," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head ruefully. He was in big trouble. Turning to Bill, he whispered in a low voice that only the construction worker could hear. "Remember what I said." He pressed the pager into his hand. "When this thing starts to vibrate, you've got five minutes. Wait until cops start to make their move and then get everyone out of the way. Got it?"
"What about you?" Bill looked at him, a worried frown creasing his face.
"Don't worry about me. I'll manage," MacGyver assured him, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt. Bill looked unconvinced, but nodded his agreement anyway. MacGyver cringed inwardly as he heard the self-serving businessman begin to speak, knowing that the proverbial other shoe was about to drop.
*************
"Hey! I need to talk to you," Business Suit called to the four gunmen, who were still clustered around the security station.
"Get back over there!" Del shouted, waving his gun threateningly.
Carl eyed him contemptuously. "Oh? And what information might that be?"
Carl raised his hand to silence Del. "Just a minute. I want to hear when he has to say." Turning to the businessman, he said, "What kind of deal are we talking about?"
"You think your *information* is worth that much?" Carl sneered.
"Okay, you have a deal," Carl stated. "But it had better be worth it."
"So?" Carl waited expectantly.
Business Suit puffed himself up importantly. "Well, it seems that the police are planning to storm this place."
"Oh yeah?" Carl lifted his eyebrows questioningly. "And how would you know that?"
Carl looked at Del then turned back to their informer. "Is that so?"
"It sure is." The man bobbed his head up and down vigorously. "He told everyone to be ready to hide when the police bust in."
"Isn't that interesting?" Del asked sarcastically.
"Yes it is," Carl said thoughtfully. "Thank you for that information, sir."
"So, can I go now?" Business Suit asked eagerly.
Del glanced at Carl, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "Sure, you can go," Del said with a grin.
Business Suit smiled with relief and swaggered triumphantly toward the door. When he was halfway there, Carl raised his shotgun and fired, hitting the businessman square in the back. The man toppled forward, hitting the floor with an audible thump, his face frozen in an expression of permanent surprise.
"I think we need to have a chat with our friend, don't you?" Del said.
*************
"What now?" Kate grumbled as the sound of the blast issued from inside the bank.
"Take a look, Murphy." Henderson handed her a pair of binoculars.
Kate groaned with dismay when she saw the body lying on the floor just inside the glass doors. The bloom of red on the back of the man's suit jacket left no doubt as to his condition.
Kate arched an eyebrow at him but didn't comment, knowing that Henderson, like many other police officers, had resorted to dark humor to keep himself sane in the face of tremendous stress. It was a habit in which she herself sometimes indulged. But not this time. This time it was too personal.
"Connelly," she spoke into her radio. "Did you get anything from the phone?"
"Not much," Connelly said. "It sounds like one of the hostages was trying to negotiate his way out."
"Stupid," Kate muttered. "Keep your ears on it, Frank."
"You think your guy might have been compromised?" Henderson asked quietly, having overheard her conversation with Connelly.
"I hope not, but it's possible. He was supposed to prepare the hostages for our assault. One of them might have tried to buy his freedom with that information."
Kate thought about it for minute and was about to reply, when Connelly's gravelly voice broke into her train of thought.
*************
"All right, pal." Del beckoned to MacGyver with his gun. "Get up. Now."
MacGyver climbed to his feet silently and walked toward the gunman, who grabbed him by the shirt and shoved him roughly forward. He walked quickly across the lobby, acutely conscious of the gun at his back. An icy knot formed in the pit of the stomach as he got closer and closer to the rest of the bank robbers, and to the unpleasantness that he knew was coming. Del gave him a final shove when they reached the security station, knocking him into Barry, who pushed him back toward Del. Carl stepped in front of MacGyver, staring intently into his eyes. The bank robber was shorter than he was, so MacGyver had to look down slightly to meet his gaze.
"That's not what the weasel told me." He pointed to the dead man by the door.
"He was desperate. He'd say anything to get out of here."
Carl laughed, but it was a cheerless sound. "You're going to have to do better than that." He nodded at Del who spun MacGyver around and punched him solidly in the stomach.
His breath left him in one great rush, and MacGyver doubled over, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. But Del wasn't finished yet, following his initial blow with a solid uppercut to the chin that knocked MacGyver off his feet.
Carl leaned over and grasped the front of MacGyver's shirt, lifting him slightly off of the floor. "Now. What did the police tell you?"
"Nothing," MacGyver croaked, still trying to catch his breath.
MacGyver blinked, trying to clear the swirling stars out of his vision. "They didn't tell me anything."
"Bull!" Del punctuated his commentary with a hard kick.
MacGyver rolled onto his side with a groan, casting a glance at the hostages, who were sitting silently, frozen with fear. Barbara had her hand over her mouth and a stricken look on her face, while Bill was staring with tight-lipped fury at the scene that was unfolding before him. MacGyver quirked his lips in a crooked smile as Carl and Del grabbed him again and pulled him to his feet.
"Wait," MacGyver said, hoping to forestall the next punch, which Del was already pulling back to deliver. "Listen, why would the cops trust me with any information? For all they know, I could be working with you guys."
"Why did you tell everyone that the police were going to attack us?" Carl inquired irritably.
"I just told them that they should get out of the way if the cops decided to crash your little party," MacGyver gasped, still feeling the ill effects of Del's last punch. "I mean, that's what they always do in the movies. You know, charging through the door, guns blazing and all that." He smiled at them guilelessly, hoping they believed him. The repeated blows to his stomach were making him nauseous, and he didn't want to think about what would happen if he suddenly threw up on their shoes.
Carl contemplated him silently for a moment then grinned at him broadly. "Movies, huh? You're a real piece of work, you know that?" He started to chuckle.
Del eyed him quizzically. "You believe this crap?"
"Del, the cops aren't about to tell anyone what they're up to," Carl explained, rolling his eyes as though it was an obvious conclusion. "They won't risk anyone telling us -- like the squealer over there."
"Don't worry about it, Del. The cops know better than to try anything," Carl assured him.
"What about him?" Del jabbed MacGyver in the ribs with his gun.
"He *is* a pain in the ass," Carl commented thoughtfully, placing the business end of his gun squarely in the center of MacGyver's forehead. "Maybe we should put him out of our misery."
A slow grin spread across Del's face. "Sounds good to me."
MacGyver glared defensively at Carl but then dropped his gaze, realizing that his best chance for survival was to appear as non-threatening as possible. He pasted a fearful look on his face -- which, under the circumstances, wasn't too difficult to do -- and hoped for the best.
"Still, he might be useful," Carl said with a sigh. He pulled his gun away for a moment, then returned it to its position, easing the hammer back.
*************
"What is it, Frank?" Kate asked as she climbed into the van.
"Listen." He flipped the switch that activated the speaker. Immediately, the sound of angry voices was heard. While they couldn't make out all of the words, it was apparent that the bank robbers were angry, and when Kate heard MacGyver's voice, it became clear what was happening.
"Me too," Kate agreed, though in this case she wasn't sure she would want to see what was happening to MacGyver as she heard more yelling intermingled with what sounded like grunts of pain. She clenched her jaw tightly as she listened to her friend being battered. Outside, she appeared to be the epitome of a calm, cool, and collected professional, but inside she seethed with rage, and wasn't sure how long she could keep that particular volcano from erupting.
"What's happening, Kate?" asked Pete quietly from the doorway. He recognized the sounds coming from the speaker, and hoped that MacGyver had nothing to do with them. But from Kate's silence, it appeared that he wasn't going to be that lucky.
"I figured as much," Pete said grimly. "How bad?"
Kate frowned and told him about the other hostage who had been shot. "From what we've been able to piece together, we think that Mac alerted the other hostages about our planned assault like we asked him to. Only some bozo decided to trade that information for a free ticket out."
"He got out, all right," Connelly snorted in disgust. "All the way out."
Kate nodded. "Yeah. I only hope he can talk his way out of this one."
*************
MacGyver flinched, then opened his eyes when he realized that the gun had not fired.
Carl threw his head back and started to laugh. "That was priceless, man." Del and the other two men started to laugh as well. "Did you see the look on his face?"
MacGyver let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. A shiver of relief raced through him. His legs felt like jello, and he still felt like he would retch at any moment, but at least he was alive.
MacGyver took a step away from the security desk, but was stopped by Carl's fist crashing into his face. The impact sent him sprawling to the floor again.
"Not over there, stupid!" Carl said heatedly. "I want you to stay right here where I can keep my eye on you."
"Don't worry," Carl said. "If the cops do make like the movies, our troublesome friend here will be right in the line of fire."
"Do you think they're going to come in after us?" Barry asked uncertainly.
"Nah. They know we'll kill more of them ...," Carl waved towards the hostages. "... if we don't get what we want."
"Yeah, starting with him." Del pointed his gun at MacGyver and smiled malevolently as he pretended to shoot him.
"Later," he said softly to MacGyver, his eyes confirming the deadly promise. Laughing, Del shrugged and turned back to his companions.
MacGyver sighed and lay quietly on the floor, not wanting to draw any additional attention to himself, while the gunmen discussed their situation. Gently fingering his split lip, he wiped the trickle of blood from his chin, wincing slightly at the pain the action produced. He looked over toward the hostages again, flashing them a painful grin and a covert thumbs-up when he determined that their captors weren't looking. Barbara responded with a tremulous smile. Bill gave him a short nod, but still looked worried, as did most of the other hostages. Holding his aching ribs, MacGyver slowly shifted himself into a seated position, leaning wearily against the front of the security station. He hoped the police would make their move soon, so that this horrible day would finally end.
*************
He flinched as though he felt the pain himself when one of the thugs punched MacGyver. It had been bad enough when they had shot the guy in the suit, but now they were beating on his father, and that worried him even more. Sam stared coldly at the body on the floor in front of the bank entrance. He had heard enough of the man's conversation with the bank robbers to know that he was responsible for their anger towards his father. Those goons would probably kill him because of that selfish bastard's actions, and Sam found he could feel little sympathy at the man's fate.
Tensely, he watched as the men continued pounding on his father, clenching his fists tightly until his knuckles whitened under the strain. MacGyver had been in many tough situations before, and had always managed to get himself out of them, but it wasn't looking very good this time. Sam's heart suddenly leaped into his throat when Carl pointed his gun at his father's head. "Oh shit," he whispered. He closed his eyes, afraid to watch what was going to happen next. When he heard no shot after a couple of minutes, Sam cautiously opened his eyes and saw his father still standing, while the four goons stood around him, laughing. He breathed a sigh of relief, but tensed again suddenly when Carl punched MacGyver in the face and knocked him down.
When the bank robbers showed no more signs of hurting his father further, Sam finally allowed himself to relax. The strain of sitting there, waiting and watching helplessly, had caused his head to throb with renewed vigor. He gently kneaded the muscles in his neck, gradually working out some of the knots of tension. From what he had been able to decipher of the muffled conversation he heard, it sounded like the police might be ready to force an end to this siege -- and none too soon, in his opinion. He looked at MacGyver, half-hidden from his view by the bank robbers, and determinedly hefted the handgun he had appropriated from the guard. Whatever happened, he planned to be ready.
*************
"So what now?" Pete asked once it was apparent that MacGyver was out of immediate danger.
"We're still going in," Kate replied. "Mac did his part. We'll just have to hope that the hostages do theirs."
"Well, they didn't shoot him," offered Henderson. "With these guys, that's about as 'all right' as it gets."
"We'll wait until the end of the hour, then we'll park a van in front of the bank where they can see it. With any luck, that will distract them for a minute or two while the SWAT team moves in," Kate said confidently.
"Are you going in too, Kate?" Pete asked.
Kate heard the worry and frustration that Pete was trying so valiantly to hide, and smiled warmly at her friend. "Just try to stop me." These were good men that she had with her, but she couldn't simply wait on the sidelines. Not with her friend's life at stake.
Pete smiled faintly, relaxing slightly with the knowledge that Kate would be looking out for MacGyver personally, though he wished with all his heart that he was the one handling that duty. But his role would come later, after they got Mac out of there. He was going to need all the help he could get then.
"Don't worry, Pete. Mac has dealt with worse kinds of terrorists," Kate said comfortingly.
Kate could find nothing to say in response to that. Giving his shoulder a supportive pat, she said, "I'd better go check with my team, make sure everything is ready."
Pete nodded, and picked up a set of headphones. "I'll stay here and give these guys a hand."
"Good idea, Pete. You've got better ears than most people I know." Kate turned and jumped from the van, heading for the assembled police personnel near the SWAT van. She didn't notice Henderson was following until he spoke.
Kate stopped short and turned to glare at the tall lieutenant. "Why not?"
"You know damned well why not," Henderson said sternly. "You're personally involved, and that makes your participation dangerous."
"I know my job, Henderson," Kate said heatedly. "I'd be going in whether MacGyver was in there or not." In a softer tone, she said, "Look, I'll be going in with the second team, after your guys inside make their move. Okay?"
Henderson frowned, but knew better than to argue with her. "Okay, okay, just let my people do their jobs."
"I wouldn't have it otherwise."
"All the time, Henderson," she said with a grin. "All the time."
Henderson grunted and gave an exasperated shake of his head as they walked toward the group of officers awaiting their final orders. Kate was laughing quietly to herself about his reluctant capitulation when Sanchez came running, skidding to a stop beside her.
"Lieutenant! We got a make on those prints." He handed her several sheets of paper.
"Thanks, Marlon." Kate took the papers and quickly scanned them. With a frown, she hurried toward Henderson and the rest of the SWAT team. "New info, guys."
Henderson eyed the papers in her hand speculatively. "Rap sheets?"
"You got it." Kate spread the papers out on the hood of a squad car. "We got two sets of prints, belonging to a Carl Fredericks and Delbert Waxman."
"Fredericks isn't much better," Henderson added. "Armed robbery, assault, car theft, fraud, attempted murder." Henderson shook his head. "And the list goes on."
"What about the other two?" asked David Perry, who had joined them at the car.
"We didn't get a match on anyone named Barry, but we did come up with one James Johnson, also known as J. J., on the known associates list for Waxman," Kate said. "This guy is strictly small-time; petty theft, a couple of minor assaults, that's about it."
"Says here he's a pilot," Perry pointed out.
"That's probably why they asked for a chopper," Kate replied.
"Waxman is the one that worries me," Henderson said. "He's got too much to lose if he gets caught."
"I agree," Kate said seriously. "Mac told me that he's the one who killed his son and the guard."
"Make sure you pass along descriptions to the guys that are already inside," added Kate. "Waxman and Fredericks are our primary targets. I don't think the other two will be much trouble."
"Okay, then. We go in ten minutes." Henderson looked to Kate, who nodded her approval. "I'll go brief my team."
*************
The waiting was starting to get on his nerves. Sam closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the cool metal frame that surrounded the interior window through which he was watching the bank lobby. His father was still sitting quietly on the floor, as were the rest of the hostages. Their murderous captors had started on the last case of beer, and were growing more impatient and agitated as time passed.
Sam grunted and massaged his aching head. The aspirin he had taken earlier had only slightly dulled the hammering in his head, and it already felt like it was wearing off. Things were quiet, so he backed away from the window slowly and headed back to the desk, where he had left the bottle of pills. He was halfway there when he heard the noise -- a faint scratching sound coming from somewhere overhead that reminded him of an apartment he had once lived in that had had squirrels in the attic. Only he knew that this time it wasn't any furry creature crawling around up there. Sam sagged with relief, knowing that it had to be the police sneaking into the building through the air ducts.
"About time, guys," he whispered to himself. His headache forgotten, Sam moved back to his position by the window, determined to be ready the minute the police made their presence known.
*************
When Bill's head jerked up suddenly and his eyes immediately searched him out, it was instantly obvious to MacGyver that the police had signaled their five-minute warning. He dipped his head slightly once he met Bill's eyes, to let him know that he understood, and Bill nodded once in acknowledgement before turning toward Barbara and whispering in her ear. Her eyes widened and she cast a nervous glance toward the bank robbers, who were too busy drinking beer and complaining to spare any attention for the hostages. MacGyver watched with satisfaction as she and Bill quietly spread the word through the rest of the frightened group. They were as prepared as they were going to get -- he only hoped that it would be enough. With one eye on the clock, MacGyver leaned back and waited.
A few minutes later, a shout of joy erupted from behind the security desk as Barry spotted the van being delivered by the police.
"Look! They're bringing the van!" Barry exclaimed.
The other three bank robbers crowded behind the security monitors to see for themselves, while the hostages stared watchfully, poised to move at any moment. MacGyver tensed, knowing that this was a distraction to help the police catch them off guard. Reaching into his pockets, he grabbed a fistful of paper clips in one hand, and the purloined door keys in the other. Moments later, all hell broke loose.
In a blur of motion, police officers dressed in black burst into the room from several of the offices that surrounded the bank lobby. The hostages were on their feet scrambling to safety almost immediately, while the bank robbers shouted and started running, firing their guns at anything that moved. MacGyver jumped to his feet and started heading for the hostages, to make sure they were all safe. But he was stopped short by an arm wrapped around his neck and a gun pressed to his side.
"Don't move!" Del hissed in his ear as he dragged him toward the front door.
*************
A surge of adrenaline shot through him when he saw police burst onto the scene. Sam reached for the door, but paused when he saw Carl heading straight for him. He stepped behind the door just as it opened, and waited silently while Carl ducked inside the office to hide. The man had no sooner shut the door behind him, when Sam stepped out and confronted him.
"Surprise!" Sam said with a humorless grin as he brought the barrel of the gun down on the startled bank robber's head. Sam felt no small measure of gratification as the man slumped unconscious to the floor. He contemplated dispensing a few well-placed kicks in retribution for what had been done to his father as he stepped over the prone bank robber, but reluctantly refrained. They were going to get what was coming to them at the hands of the police, and anything he did would simply be lowering himself to their level. They just weren't worth it.
Keeping low, Sam eased himself slowly through the door and into the lobby, taking care to stay out of the line of fire. He slid the guns he had taken from Carl across the floor and into the corner, out of reach of any of the bad guys. From behind the tall plant near the doorway to the office where he had been hiding, Sam could see that the last of the hostages was diving behind the teller's counter and the other three bank robbers were exchanging fire with the police. One of the robbers suddenly made a break for the back door, followed closely by several SWAT officers. Sam ducked back into the office, out of the way as the fleeing felon ran past.
When he again ventured out, J. J. was being led out the back door in handcuffs, and Barry was crouched behind the customer service desk having a shoot out with some of the other police officers. Sam scanned the scene carefully to see if there was anyway he could help, but froze when his gaze came to rest on Del. The vicious thug had his back to Sam, and he was holding MacGyver in a death grip, using him as a human shield as he moved toward the front door.
*************
"Get out of here or he's history!!" Del screamed, tightening his grip on MacGyver's throat.
Judging by the bank robber's previous actions, Kate knew that this was no idle threat, but she also knew that if she did as he asked, MacGyver would still probably end up dead. "Hold it, guys," she said to her team, gesturing for them to halt their progress.
"Oh, but there is," Del sneered menacingly. "Me and my friend here are going to walk out to that van and drive away. And all you cops are going to stay out of my way or he eats a bullet. Got it?"
Kate glanced at MacGyver, noting the bluish tint to his lips as he gasped for breath under the crushing force of Del's arm. Catching her eye, he mouthed the word "go", flicking his eyes toward the door. Kate only hesitated for a moment before nodding to him. "All right," she said for Del's benefit. "But you hurt him and there'll be fifty cops on you so fast it will make your head spin."
*************
Sam watched the exchange, his anger growing exponentially. He had had just about enough of these losers. It was time for action. Sam moved out of the office doorway, determined to help his father. He had only taken two steps into the lobby when he suddenly became aware of motion behind him. Whirling around, he saw that Carl had awakened and was staggering to his feet.
"Oh no you don't," Sam muttered, closing the distance to the bank robber quickly. He lifted the gun and placed it against Carl's head. "Freeze, sucker!" Sam gave him an evil grin. "I always wanted to say that."
Carl looked up at Sam, doing a double-take when he recognized him. "But y-you're dead?!"
"Not hardly," Sam snorted as he motioned for Carl to stand up. Prodding him with the gun, Sam escorted Carl down the hall to the back door, where he had seen the police disappear with J. J.
*************
Del rolled his eyes disdainfully at Kate as she led her people back out the door. "Dumb cop," he muttered, glancing around warily to see if there were any police officers still in the bank. Satisfied that they had all left, he dragged MacGyver back toward the security desk. "Pick 'em up," he hissed to MacGyver, indicating a pair of duffel bags on the floor. "I'm not leaving without my money." He jabbed his gun roughly into MacGyver's side to emphasize his point, but loosened his arm enough to allow him to breathe.
As he bent to retrieve the bags, MacGyver removed his hands from his pockets and in one fluid motion, tossed the paper clips and the keys into Del's face, and jammed his elbows back into his rib cage. Grabbing Del's arm, he pulled hard and flipped the hapless bank robber over his shoulder. Del landed flat on his back, his gun dropping from his hand to land at MacGyver's feet.
*************
After shoving Carl outside into the waiting arms of the police, Sam made his way quietly back down the hall to the bank lobby. He arrived just in time to see Del sail through the air and land on the floor. "Way to go, Dad," Sam said softly, breaking into a grin. The smile faded, though, when he saw his father reach down and pick up the gun and point it at Del's head.
*************
Almost as though he were on auto pilot, MacGyver picked up Del's gun and leveled it at a spot between the man's eyes. All the rage and anguish he had been holding in for the last few hours suddenly exploded from the corner of his mind where he had hidden it. The world seemed to shrink around him like a dark tunnel, filling his head with a strange buzzing, until it seemed that no one else existed but himself and the murderous bank robber. The gun felt heavy and awkward in his shaking hand but he paid it no mind as he stared numbly at the man on the floor.
Del glared back at him defiantly, his lips curling in an arrogant sneer. "You'd better give me that gun."
"No." MacGyver continued to stare unflinchingly.
Del laughed. "Oh, so you're going to *shoot* me."
Del's laugh died on his lips when he saw the cold fury in MacGyver's eyes. "Hey man, you can't shoot me!"
"Can't I?" MacGyver rasped.
"Come on, man. You can have half of the money." The arrogance in his eyes had been replaced by fear now that the tables were turned.
"Okay, all the money. Come on, man," Del pleaded.
"Dad?" Sam said, taking a step toward his father. "What are you doing?" But MacGyver didn't move, didn't even acknowledge that he had heard him. He simply stood there, holding the gun in trembling hands, unaware of everything but the man on the floor. Sam continued walking, slowly drawing closer to his father, hoping he could get through to him before he did something he would later regret.
*************
Kate peered cautiously through the front door. There had been no more gunshots and very little conversation coming through the telephone line. They had been expecting Del to come out shortly after he had ordered the police to leave, but he and MacGyver were still inside. When she saw what was happening inside, Kate suddenly knew why. Slowly, she opened the door and went inside.
"Mac?" Kate called to her friend. "What's going on?" She asked the question even though she knew exactly what was happening. MacGyver had seen his son killed, and now had the killer at his mercy. Kate could see the rage and anguish in his face, warring for dominance with his innate sense of justice and fair play.
"Come on, Mac. Give me the gun," Kate said soothingly. "You don't want to do this."
"Shut up!" Kate said to him harshly. Then, to MacGyver, "He's not worth it, Mac."
Kate step closer and was about to speak again when she caught sight of someone moving in their direction. Her jaw dropped in astonishment when she recognized who it was. "Sam?"
*************
There were voices filtering through the static in his head, hollow-sounding, like echoes bouncing off of a canyon wall. One of them even sounded like Sam, but that was impossible. Sam was dead. MacGyver recognized another one as belonging to Kate Murphy, and that was okay, because she wasn't dead. The voices were arguing with him, and he shook his head to clear them away. But it didn't work. If anything, he heard Sam's voice even more insistently than before.
"Put the gun down, Dad," Sam's voice said clearly from somewhere behind him.
"Sam's dead," MacGyver declared in a tired whisper. "He killed him." He jerked the gun toward Del, who recoiled in fear.
"Mac." It was Kate's voice this time. "Sam's not dead. He's standing right beside you."
"Dad, look at me."
A hand reached in front of him and gently touched his face. MacGyver turned slowly, reluctant to see who was there, afraid that it might be just a hallucination of his weary mind. In front of him stood an apparition that looked suspiciously like his son. "Sam?"
Everything else was forgotten as MacGyver stared at his son. His living, breathing son. He lowered the gun, not even noticing when Kate took it from his hand, and enveloped Sam in a fierce hug. "Sam," he whispered, hardly daring to believe that his son was alive.
"Hey Officer!" Bill shouted to Kate. "We got another one for you." He and John emerged from behind the counter, dragging a subdued Barry between them. "Caught him trying to head for the back door."
MacGyver pulled away from Sam, studying him critically, still scarcely believing that he wasn't dead. "So what happened?"
"Not lousy enough," MacGyver said with a frown, eyeing Sam's blood-soaked hair and clothing. "I thought I had lost you." His voice wavered and he gripped Sam's shoulders tightly, protectively.
"Ditto. I saw what those guys did to you. When they put that gun to your head ..." Sam shuddered and wrapped his hand around his father's arm, seeking his own reassurances.
"Hey, you guys going to stand here all night?" Kate interrupted, putting her arms around both of them. "Let's go. I've had just about enough of this place." She ushered them, along with the rest of the hostages, out the door.
*************
"Kate?" Pete called anxiously when he heard her directing some officers into the bank.
"It sure is!" Kate said brightly.
"What do you mean?" Pete asked, puzzled by her exuberance. "I thought ..."
Pete followed along until they came upon a throng of people. Almost immediately, he heard MacGyver's voice among the group. He sounded a bit of hoarse, but the voice was unmistakable. "Mac?"
"Pete!" MacGyver greeted him cheerily.
"I'm fine," MacGyver said, clapping Pete on the back. "Right Sam?"
"Look who's talking," MacGyver retorted. "At least I don't have any dents in my skull."
"Sam?!" Pete exclaimed. "You're alive!"
"What happened?" asked Pete.
"My son has a hard head," MacGyver said proudly. "Bullets bounce right off."
"Just like his father," Pete said deftly. "I seem to remember bullets bouncing off of your head a time or two."
"Oh really?" Sam quirked an eyebrow at his father. "I don't remember hearing about that."
"Of course, Sam. Anytime," Pete said with a grin.
"Okay, boys. There's an ambulance over there with your name on it," Kate said sternly.
"Don't whine, Mac," Kate commanded. "It's for your own good."
"That's an *order*, guys. Besides, you both look like hell."
"She's got us there," Sam said defeatedly.
"Okay, okay. We're going," MacGyver said with a sigh. He draped his arm around Sam's shoulders and started toward the ambulance.
"I guess this day wasn't *all* bad," MacGyver said to Sam. "I didn't have to go waterskiing."
MacGyver shot his son a dirty look. "Very funny, smartass."
"Well this smartass got a phone number." Sam pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and waved it in front of his father's face.
"Oh?" MacGyver eyed him skeptically.
"Uh-huh," Sam nodded happily. "The girl I, uh, helped wants to show me her gratitude."
"At least *I* got a phone number," Sam said smugly. "What did *you* get, besides those black eyes?"
"Hey, don't sell your old man short, Junior." MacGyver took a piece of paper from his own pocket and showed it to Sam. "I got a phone number, too."
"Cool. Maybe we can double-date?" Sam suggested, an amused twinkle in his eyes.
MacGyver rolled his eyes and grunted. "Don't push your luck, kiddo."
Sam laughed as they reached the ambulance and climbed inside. "Wouldn't dream of it, Dad."
*************
As she watched the ambulance drive away, Kate found that she couldn't stop smiling. The day had turned out better than she could have possibly hoped. Sam and Mac were both alive, if a little banged up, and all of the bad guys were in custody. Turning to Pete, who stood beside her, she saw the same expression on his face.
"Yeah," Pete agreed. "Sam must have inherited Mac's luck."
"You know what they say," Kate said. "Like father, like son."
"You know, Pete," Kate said wearily. "After a day like today, I may even have to start going to church again."
"I know what you mean," Pete said with a sigh, grateful to whatever cosmic forces had seen fit to keep his friends safe that day.
"Maybe they'll even stay out of trouble for awhile," Kate said laughingly.
"Yeah, until next time," Pete said with a shake of his head. If he had learned nothing else over the years it was that MacGyver attracted trouble like a magnet.
"Well, that's why they have us, Pete," Kate said encouragingly. "Come on. Let's get to the hospital before they con the doctors into letting them out."
Pete laughed. "Lead on, Murphy." As they walked to her car, Pete reflected on the day, on the emotional rollercoaster ride he had been on. This was the kind of thing that got his adrenalin going. It was one of the reasons why he would probably never completely retire. Not as long as MacGyver kept getting himself into these messes. He needed to be there to help get him out of trouble the next time. And with MacGyver, there was always a next time. Always.