Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Macgyver. They belong to Henry Winkler, Paramount and associates.

*'s indicate one's thoughts

Chapter 7: Sleeping With the Fishes

The phone rang. A distracted Pete picked up, his other hand busily skimming across the computer keys. "Pete Thornton here."
"Pete, it's Nikki."
Instantly his voice changed. "Are you okay? Mac told me what happened this morning."
"Yeah, I'll be fine, just a little sore. Macgyver wanted me to rest, which I am. But I wanted to tell you, not to be morbid or anything . . . " she trailed off.
"But what Nikki?" Pete urged.
"I think Deborah programmed a keyword into his psyche. Macgyver. Every time the music plays and his full name is uttered he becomes Hyde, so to speak. However, I am not sure if she actually created a keyword to break his trance-like state. All we know are familiar words. My name for instance, seems to trigger remembrances of who he is, therefor retruning his mind back to it's original state."
"So he does have a music tape of hers!" Pete crowed.
"Unfortunately, yes. The more he is exposed to the music, the riskier his Hyde transformations are for becoming a permanent fixture. The tape should be burned," Nikki stated scathingly.
"Alright, we will talk to Mac about it first thing in the morning. The best thing for him right now is to get some sleep."
"I agree."
"Anyway, if something were to happen again," Pete said slowly, "using words his mind is familiar with, is our best bet?"
"Right."
"Will do. Thanks for the info Nikki."
"Sure."
"And Nikki?"
"Yes."
"He's going to be fine. You know that right?"
"I guess. It's just, what if I'm wrong about Macgyver?" she trailed off.
Pete spoke vehemently. "You aren't Nikki, you aren't."
Placing the receiver back in it's cradle, Nikki gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her gaze intent, she delicately fingered the newly appeared blue and purple bruises dotting her now tender throat and neck. "I hope not," she said softly. Rising from her dressing room table, Nikki picked up the book entitled Brainwashing: Subconscious Ailment, for the umpteenth time that night. Too restless to sleep, she skimmed some later chapters in the book. One key sentence seemed to jump off the page at her in alarming clarity. In a worst case situation, if the programmed is no longer of use or effective to the programmer, he or she will be done away with.
Nikki jumped up. *And I just thought she wanted us dead, especially Macgyver, because he knew too much. But I was wrong. Deborah had it all figured out, kill him but if that doesn't work, brainwash him! The perfect plot! Unfortunately, we should all know by now that she doesn't leave any loose ends, and Macgyver is her final loose end to tie up! I've got to call Pete!"
Slinging her denim, down lined jacket over her good shoulder, she grabbed one of her most prized weapons, picked up the phone and dialed Pete's house. *The police are on their way Mac, hang on! * Driving at full speed to Mac's houseboat, a sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach, Nikki muttered to herself, "We should have told him our findings, now it may cost Macgyver his life!" Her grip tightened around the steering wheel. "Macgyver, you had better be alright!"
"You'll be okay Macgyver if you don't move," Deborah breathed into his ear.
"Somehow, I highly doubt that." He didn't believe in hitting a woman, but he was sorely tempted to head butt her right now. Moving though, could cost him his neck, literally.
"This is your last chance Macgyver." Hearing a click, he closed his eyes dreading the inevitable. He opened his eyes in surprise to feel-nothing, except the sweet, harmonious sounds of violins, harps...
*Oh no! I have to . . . must fight it!*
Shakily, he raised his voice. "Not this time Deborah. The forest isn't so dense now and the trees are looking better and better. Besides, I know you have no intention of letting me live, so just get it over with." Afraid of what she might find, Nikki peered through the open window into the shadows. Sure enough, Deborah's chestnut hair swept about his face, while holding a switchblade to his throat. Her heart pounding in her ears, Nikki made her move.
"Games up Deborah." Macgyver nearly gasped at the voice. Feeling a sharp point at her back, Deborah drew a deep breath. "Why Nikki, I never would have thought you so stubborn, or so foolish," Deborah emphasized, snapping her head back. That was all the distraction Macgyver needed. Dazed, Nikki stepped back into the shadows, holding her aching head, as Macgyver wrenched Deborah's wrist, forcing the switchblade out of her hand. Shoving her up against the wall, Macgyver demanded, "Why have you done this to my friends and I?"
"Your friends always get in my way, so they pay the price of being in your company. She watched with a smile as Macgyver flinched. *This is too easy. * As for you, I needed an out in the event you lived. If it wasn't for your meddling friends, my brainwashing scheme would have been fail safe," she snarled, glancing at Nikki. Deborah looked directly into Macgyver's eyes. "And now that you have helped me gain my freedom, I am paying you back, in blood," she answered coldly.
Mac's face fell, surprise and pain etched in his eyes, as his grip loosened on her wrist. That was all she needed. Pushing Macgyver away, she jumped through Mac's sliding glass doors, shattering them. "The police won't catch me alive Macgyver!" she cried, racing down the pier leading to the dock. Leaning against the wall, trying to steady her vision, Nikki hugged her weapon to her chest. Mac moved to check on her.
His hand on her arm, Mac asked in concern, "Nikki, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Good. I'm going after Deborah!" Dismayed, Nikki watched him run through the outline of what used to be his glass doors. "Macgyver, wait! The police are on their way, let them handle Deborah! "You're playing right into her hands Macgyver and she will try to use her ace in the hole one last time," Nikki muttered to herself.
"She has no aces left to use Nikki," Mac threw over his shoulder. She looked at him in surprise and wonder. *I hope not.*
"Come out Deborah. The police are on their way. It's all over," Mac called, searching the darkened pier. He knew he was placing himself in grave danger as he could see the shimmering water lying in wait at the end of the pier. Unexpectedly, he felt a crushing weight settle onto his back as hands locked around his throat. "Deborah," he rasped, "even if you manage to kill me, Nikki will make sure you don't walk away."
"No, you're wrong Macgyver. She's the one that won't walk away." Sick of Deborah's threats, he threw his weight forward, tossing her over his head. He moved to reach for her, but quick as a flash, she pulled a derringer out from underneath her pants leg.
"I hate guns!" he muttered.
"Perhaps, but it does the trick!" Deborah smirked, leveling it at him.
"So does this!" a voice from behind them both, yelled. A whoosh sounded by Macgyver's ear as an aluminum arrow imbedded itself in Deborah's shoulder. Heavy lidded, Deborah staggered to her feet.
"Nikki, what have you done?" Macgyver cried.
"What? I had to!" she retorted angrily. "It was you or her."
"You're not taking me alive!" Deborah cried, racing to the edge of the pier.
"Deborah don't!" Macgyver cried, chasing after her.
"See ya around Macgyver." Saluting him, she jumped off the edge of the pier into the murky waters of the deep. Breathless, Nikki caught up to Macgyver.
In exasperation, Nikki cried, "Mac I didn't kill her, it's only a tranquilizer dart."
His eyes brightened. Mac stared hopefully into the water. "Then maybe I can save her."
"Macgyver don't!" Nikki yelled. "These are shark infested waters!"
Angrily, she watched as he jumped in, shoes and all. Letting the crossbow fall at her side, Nikki shook her head, disregarding the pain in her arm and focusing more on the pain in her heart.
She watched, an anguished expression on her face, as Macgyver resurfaced, again and again, with no sign of Deborah. His search futile, Macgyver finally gave up, allowing Nikki to help him out of the frigid water.
"Macgyver, that was nonsense," she scolded, "you could have killed yourself out there, not to mention catch your death of cold."
"Nikki, I cared about her."
"I know, I know," she said softly.