2 DAYS
Singing birds announced the coming dawn, waking him. MacGyver didn't move. Instead, he snuggled down into his sleeping bag away from the morning chill and listened to the forest coming alive around him. No traffic, alarms, or airplanes flying overhead; only relaxing peace and nature's music.
MacGyver was almost back asleep when he heard a crackling sound. His eyes drifted open. He heard it again. That was the sound of a fire. He sniffed the air. There was a faint smell of smoke. He quickly climbed out of his sleeping back, pulled his hiking boots on, and flew out of the tent. He was expecting to see heavy smoke from a forest fire – not the thin tendrils of a reasonable fire crackling in the fire ring. He knelt to quickly lace up his boots and then started his hunt around the radio tower complex to find the person who had lit it.
He didn't find anyone, but what he did find was unnerving. The gate was still locked, just as he'd left it the night before. He walked over and inspected the lock. The MasterLock wasn't cut and it didn't release when he tugged on it. There were no noticeable signs the lock had been picked. He checked the gate hinges and wire. The gate hadn't been tampered with either.
He walked the perimeter of the area, checking the fence from one side of the gate to the other. There was no cut wire, or gaps to allow anything human-sized or larger into the area. The top of the fence had barbed wire on slanted outward bars to keep anyone from climbing over. He was completely secure and alone in the area – so why was his campfire burning if he'd put it out before going to sleep? Maybe he had really been that tired last night and he didn't put the fire out. But like the feeling he was being watched, he had the same feeling he had put his campfire out last night and someone else had lit it this morning.
MacGyver inhaled slowly and walked back to his camp. He had a job to start. He would just have to be more attentive tonight.
#
An eye watched MacGyver through a scope on a rifle, perched high in a tree in a hunter's blind. It was the perfect position to watch and remain unseen. The person's finger seemed to itch for the trigger but wasn't pulling. Patience would give the hunter a perfect time to shoot the prey. Patience would be far more rewarding.
/_\
3 DAYS
The whittled stick was slowly taking the form of … something. Maybe it was a dog. Or a cat. MacGyver didn't really care; it was going in the fire when he was done. He'd spent the day making repairs so he could install upgrades tomorrow, and he was enjoying the cooling evening as he watched the sun slowly sink behind distant mountains.
He had awoken that morning to, again, find a fire lit in the fire ring and the gate locked. Someone out there was messing with him and getting into the fenced area without leaving a trace – and he'd had it with them.
But tonight, he had set up a surprise for the intruder. He'd rigged a primitive alarm if the gate opened. A row of cut tin cans hung in the tower next to his campsite would jingle loudly if someone disturbed the gate. He was going to catch whoever was out there and he had the stern words ready for when that happened.
When the last of the rays had disappeared into the darkness, he got up and put sand and dirt on the fire. Then climbed into his tent and got ready to sleep. For hours MacGyver laid, staring at the dark tent over him, anxiously waiting for the sound of an intruder. He fell asleep still waiting.
/_\
4 DAYS
MacGyver glared at the fire in the fire pit. Then he turned that glare on his alarm system that did not alert him to an intruder. He walked over and inspected it. Someone had disabled it just as expertly as he had set it up. This person was as mechanically inclined as he was – great. With an angry sigh, MacGyver turned back to his work. He was going to throw them for a loop tonight.