Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Macgyver. They

belong to Henry Winkler, Paramount and associates.

If you would like to borrow this story, please ask first, thanks!

:)

***********************

Chapter 8: Race Against Time

***********************

His fingers slid vainly against the glass.

"Mac, hold on!" Nikki screamed, grabbing his wrists. The

flames lunged ever higher as maniacal laughter resounded in

the stifling air. She yanked him backward with all her

strength, causing him to fall on top of her. Pushing himself

upward, he pulled Nikki up with him.

"Mac, what about the . . ."

"No time, I caught a glimpse of it. We have about 60

seconds!" he cried, grabbing her hand.

"60 seconds!" she cried, as level-by-level they raced down

the spiraling catwalks, gunshots raining down around them.

Nikki stopped to glance up at Deborah and Murdoc, both

of whom grasped respectable sized Berettas. Mac tugged

harder on Nikki's hand, yanking her along.

"Come on Nikki, we have to keep moving," he urged.

Practically barreling through the side door, they raced down

the path.

Suddenly, the warehouse behind them exploded,

showering the night sky with wreckage, sparks and

orange-white flame. Instinctively, Mac shoved Nikki to the

ground, the boiling heat clutching at them.

Seconds later, still feeling the waves of heat rippling

through the atmosphere, Mac asked, "Are you alright?"

"Never been better," Nikki quipped. In an attempt to

stand up, she pressed her hand against the still vibrating

ground. A deafening click pierced their now quiet

surroundings.

Painfully, his arm tightened around her waist. Mac

hissed, "Don't move!"

"What?" she wheezed, trying to wriggle out of his vice-like

grip.

"Oh no," Mac groaned.

"What do you mean, oh no? What is it?" Nikki demanded.

"You just activated one of Murdoc's land mines. They are

pressure sensitive. If you move in the slightest, it will kill us

both."