Disclaimer: I'm afraid I don't own the rights to such a great trilogy. Instead they are owned by the great people Bob Gale and Robert Zemeckis (and anyone I've left out), and without their creative minds I would not be writing this story.

I know this should also be on the first chapter, but I forgot to add it – sorry! Anyway, on with the story…

Chapter 2

January 22nd 1986
11:47 a.m.
Hill Valley, California

The barn doors swayed with the impact they had received. The gang stood in a stance of warning, their machine guns pointing towards the friends from hip level. They all wore masks so as to conceal their identities. Their eyes showed threatening expressions – expressions of dare towards their prey to remain where they stood or face the consequences. They wore dark attire – tracksuits and trainers, mostly black and navy blue. They obviously didn't want to be recognised.

One of the gang members - five in total - stepped forward from the line they formed at the entrance to the barn, the obvious leader of this operation. He did not lower his gun at all when addressing his hostages.

"Doctor Brown! How good to see you again, and so soon!" The leader told in a low menacing tone. His accent was broken, although his English was competent. A dark grin spread across his face.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Marty dared to ask the gang leader. Both Marty and Doc held their arms high in the air, to prove they were unarmed.

"Let's just say we are business associates of the good doctor here." The leader replied. "You may recall some time ago when we called on you to build a certain…device? A device that was meant to be planted in a location of our choice and explode?" He conveyed to Doc.

A realisation hit Doc of what was possibly being implied. He hoped to God that they weren't who he thought they were.

"We supplied some…plutonium to you about six months ago, you recall?" his tone had grown lower.

Doc gasped silently to himself, his eyes widening. The Libyan terrorists! It couldn't be!! They'd come to kill him, surely!

The ringleader saw the realisation hit Doc and smirked in return. "We've come to take it back, Doctor Brown, since you won't be having any use for it now!"

Doc and Marty remained frozen to the spot as three of the gang members rushed into the barn and began to search through Doc's things. Doc prayed that they wouldn't go through the door to the left of where he was stood – where the train time machine was stored underground. He only hoped they would find the plutonium first, sitting underneath the workbench. Why on earth had he elected to keep that stuff anyway?

It didn't take the terrorists too long to find their property. Two of the terrorists carried the container back out into Doc's front driveway, where their van awaited them. The third covered their backs, walking out backwards and pointing his gun towards where Doc and Marty stood, ensuring their goods were safe.

Once the plutonium had been removed the ringleader turned to his other gang members. He appeared to speak in a foreign tongue – neither Marty nor Doc had any idea what he was saying until the group began to make their own way to the van. Their weapons remained pointed in Doc and Marty's direction as they backed away.

The leader was the last to leave. He eyed Doc carefully, attempting to judge his state of mind. "We must bid you farewell, Doctor Brown. Such a shame!"

He turned to head towards the van, lowering his gun. He then paused, however, as though an interesting thought had occurred to him. Marty frowned at this, wondering why the rebel was so reluctant to leave. He had a bad feeling the terrorist had not quite completed the task he had come to do.

"Oh… by the way, Doctor…"

The leader began to turn back to face Doc. He began to lift his machine gun up towards Doc's direction, a cold and deadly glaze coating his eyes. Marty saw the movement in slow motion, realising that the gun was aiming at his best friend.

What happened in the next few seconds were blurred to Doc. He saw the terrorist lift the gun to aim at his chest, ready to fire. Doc held his breath as he waited for the inevitable to happen, but then gasped in shock as he felt a force hit the right side of his body, pushing him hard towards the cement floor. The machine gun fired several rounds in their direction as Doc saw the side workbench come closer towards him. His head smacked the edge of the wood, knocking all conscious thought from him briefly as he continued to head towards the floor.

Doc felt the pain as he made contact with the cement at last, then winced as Marty followed and landed to the side of where he lay. The loud machine gun fire ceased once Doc had hit the floor.

Doc's thoughts slowly began to become hazy as his head began to ache from the impact on the workbench. His vision was unclear, but what he could see disturbed him badly. He could see the outline of the ringleader lower his deadly weapon to his side, and place his free hand into his pocket to remove what looked like a cigarette lighter. He lit the lighter and held it close to his face; the smirk on his face highlighted by the lighter's dancing flame.

" Kuuthekrd, Tuldun Pnufh..." - "Goodnight, Doctor Brown…" - the terrorist whispered to Doc as he threw the lighter onto a nearby rag that hung from a cupboard at the side of the barn. Immediately the rag caught fire, and smoke began to rise into the atmosphere – thick dark smoke that blackened everything it touched. The terrorist turned and left, leaving the two companions within the burning building. The van door slammed shut as the engine roared to life, and the last indication of the terrorists' presence was replaced with the roaring flames within the lab.

Doc's head began to ache even more, and his eyes began to feel heavy. Before he knew it his surroundings began to darken and become even fuzzier. The last thing he saw was the workbench go up in flames, and he swore he could hear his wife's voice scream out to him and Marty from outside. And then all consciousness left him, as he fell into a deep sleep…