Not Meant To Be Caged
A MacGyver story, guest starring François Villar
When the trustee came to give François the summons, he was ready to go.
He had been ready for nearly a month, ever since that day when the mad American had turned Harosh Prison upside-down. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the Commandant realized that MacGyver had an accomplice and sent his new trusted man to fetch him for his punishment. He was prepared to face the consequences.
After the break-out, François had covered his tracks as well as possible, even sneaking in during the confusion of the explosions and fires to remove the tape recording from the Commandant's office. The only witnesses to his participation in the caper, now that MacGyver and Ashford were gone—François still couldn't believe that it had worked!—were Kahn and Forin.
Nobody was listening to Kahn anymore. As far as François knew, he was still in Solitary confinement. The little Frenchmen almost felt sorry for him.
Forin was the one that that François was worried about. After Kahn was punished, Forin was adopted by the Commandant as his new trustee. He was big, unimaginative, and obedient; just what a man like the Commandant would need to help keep the peace after a fiasco like what they had just endured. François had heard through the yard that the Commandant had barely been able to keep his job, and that only by paying massive amounts of money to his superiors had he been allowed to remain in his position.
François wondered if the Commandant had become as institutionalized as some of the other inmates. He had seen it; men who had been imprisoned for so long that they feared the freedom and unpredictability of the outside world. François himself had come close to losing hope many times, but dreams of being reunited with his family and retrieving his life kept him going. And now he could add the satisfaction and elation of having helped the insane cavalier to rescue a friend… it took great effort to keep a smile from his face when he thought on it!
Now, as he followed Forin to the Commandant's office, he wasn't smiling, but he still remembered the feeling, and he was determined to endure his punishment with dignity. He knew he had nothing for which to feel shame or regret.
The Commandant was sitting behind his desk, as usual, but he didn't look so well as the last time that François had seen him. He had lost some weight, the lines on his face were deeper and longer, and his uniform was not as clean and neatly pressed as it had been when François was his assistant. For a moment, he wondered if he's been sent for to be given his old job back. He considered the thought with no relish.
"Villar." The Commandant waved his hand in dismissal at Forin. The hulking man retreated from the room immediately, pulling the door closed behind him. François knew he would be standing right outside, gripping the handle of his nightstick that replaced the big knife that the Commandant had taken away from him after the Escape.
The Commandant leaned back in his chair, regarding his prisoner coolly. "Villar, do you know why I have brought you here?" He did not give François a chance to answer. "I have brought you here because I have some news that might interest you."
François waited. He knew how the Commandant liked to bait the prisoners, to draw out their hope and then crush it out of them. He also knew that if he dared to voice any answer before he was expressly invited to speak, he'd likely receive a beating.
When the Commandant saw that François would not react, he chuckled dryly. "You do not wish to hear this news, Villar? Have you been here so long that you've lost all interest in the world? Speak."
"I am interested if you say that I am, Commandant." François's voice was soft, his answer compliant. He kept his features schooled in a look of disinterest and fatigue.
It was just what the Commandant wanted to hear and see. He looked at François and saw a man defeated, a man unable to feel emotion.
The Commandant was blinded by his own mentality. He did not know that François was full of emotion; of pity for the Commandant's stupidity, of disgust for his cruelty and avarices, and of hope for the future… a hope that had been reborn when he had befriended MacGyver. Pride lived in within François now; pride and hope and courage.
The Commandant was blind to this. He took pleasure in what he thought was François's despair and announced bluntly, "You are been transferred to the maximum security prison in the next territory for the duration of your sentence. You are to go now and, when you get to the facility, you are to obey the instructions of your new Commandant just as you have obeyed me."
François was stunned. "What? Sir! I have merely five more months left on my sentence! This must be a mistake!" François forgot himself, stepping toward the Commandant in his fervor.
Instead of anger, the Commandant reacted with fear. He leaped up from his desk and backed away from François as if the Frenchman had threatened him. "Forin!" he shouted, and the enforcer opened the door and came inside, grabbing François by the arm as if to restrain him.
François did not struggle, but he did get control over himself. This news was devastating. He stood there, shaking his head in shock.
The Commandant took his seat again, but his nerves were clearly destroyed. The incident with the escape of the two prisoners had left him barely in control of himself. He saw attackers in every shadow, and suspected conspiracies everywhere. "Villar, we here at Harosh Prison are well rid of you. May your new accommodations be as comfortable and appealing as those of your last few years. Forin, take this prisoner to the gate and affect his immediate transfer." He thrust a sheaf of papers into François's hands. "Now… both of you—get out!"
François walked numbly behind Forin as they walked through the prison yard and to the gate. All of his possessions had already been assembled, sitting in a box next to the guardhouse.
One of the guards attached chains to François's wrists and ankles, while another guard picked up the box. A third guard unlocked the gate and Forin gave François a shove toward the opening, sending him on his way.
Outside, a black van with tinted windows waited, the engine running noisily. A man stood next to the rear of the vehicle, his hand on the handle. He was an older man, with a balding head and lines of wear on his face, but he didn't look unfriendly or cruel. He pulled the door open and motioned for François to get inside the vehicle. He took the box from the guard and placed it inside, then climbed into the van and pulled the door shut. The engine of the van revved and the vehicle pulled away, driving at a sedate pace up the hill and around the bend.
François fumbled inside the dark interior of the van, the chains on his ankles tripping him. Hands reached out from the darkness and steadied him, helping him to a seat.
"Sorry about the melodrama, François," said a friendly, familiar voice, "we couldn't manage any Huey Helicopters!"
"Mon Dieu!" François could not believe his ears. "MacGyver? Is that you, my friend?"
Light filled the van. The bald man had turned on a lantern. He was grinning as he passed a key to MacGyver. Mac proceeded to unlock François's chains.
Mac smiled at François. "I take it you're happy to see me?"
François laughed. As soon as his hands were free, he grabbed MacGyver and kissed him on both cheeks. "Happy? My friend, I thought never to see you again! And now you have come back—I wonder if I am dreaming all this?"
"It's no dream, François. I couldn't just leave you in that place… not when you were no guiltier of any crime that I was! So I asked my good buddy Pete Thornton here," Mac introduced the bald man, "to pull some strings and try to get you out."
"Nice to meet you, François," Pete said, shaking the Frenchman's hand. "As it turns out, the men in authority outside of Harosh prison are even more susceptible to bribery than those on the inside. I know some people in North Africa, so I called in a few favors and… we arranged this."
"Thank you, Monsieur!" François said, pumping Pete's hand again. "I owe you so much!"
"Not at all," Pete said. "I'm just sorry that we couldn't get you out sooner."
"And I'm sorry that I didn't talk you into leaving with me," Mac said, "though, actually… you were lucky that you didn't!" Mac told him about the rest of the Escape and how Brian Ashford turned out to be a crooked arms dealer, and how dear, beautiful Sarah was really a Russian agent. "But we got it ironed out in the end!" Mac added. "Sarah and I caught up with Ashford, and we managed to destroy the weapons before anyone else got hurt."
"It is like a fairy-tale," François said, "'They all lived happily ever after', no?"
"Well, there couldn't be a 'happily ever after' until I got you out, too. I wouldn't have been able to pull that stunt off without your help, François."
"But what now, MacGyver?" François asked. "Am I really free?"
"Well, not really," Mac said slowly, but his grin didn't fade. "There's a gang of kids and a woman waiting for you in France. I told them you were coming… they're a little excited about seeing you." It was quite clear to François that MacGyver was understating the reception that he could expect. "They are going to be your only chains from now on."
François laughed heartily. "That, monsieur, is a prison I call 'love'! I will happily serve a hundred years!"
fin!
