Chapter 5
"No."
Carter rolled her eyes. "Just a few moments ago, you said you would be happy to come and talk to General Hammond with us."
"Not until Pete gets here," the woman said, a stubborn set to her petite jaw. As she noticed the worry lines on Sam's face however, the other woman softened. "Please Major Carter? He's almost here."
"Fine!" Carter snapped, then felt foolish for doing so as Teal'c looked at her reprovingly. They were all worried for Colonel O'Neill. This was no time to panic.
At that moment, a dark car pulled up in front of the entrance to Cheyenne Mountain. A man got out, dark glasses covering his eyes, and with a white cane in hand.
"She didn't say he was blind," Daniel whispered softly in her ear. Carter nodded and watched as the man's driver guided them toward them.
"Oh, Pete!" the woman cried as she launched herself into the blind man's arms.
"Where is he, Penny?" the man asked, the excitement evident in his voice, "Was it really him?"
"It was definitely him," Penny confirmed, "but some men came and took him and now I don't know where he is?"
"What?" the man said, sounding outraged.
"Uh, Pete," Penny said, suddenly remembering the others, "these are Mac's friends. They want to talk to us downstairs."
The man nodded and blindly extended his hand. Daniel quickly moved forward to shake it.
"Thank you for waiting for me to arrive," the man said, "after all these years..."
"You're welcome," Daniel replied, "but if you don't mind, we are in a hurry. We have to find Jack before he gets in too much trouble."
Behind the glasses, the man looked confused for a moment, and then he seized Daniel's arm with a grip that surprised the younger man.
"Lead on," was all he said, but SG-1 gratefully did.
When Jack woke up this time, he felt better, though his neck still occasionally felt as though someone was drilling it with a knife. He felt a bit feverish still, but his mind seemed clearer. No one was in the room, and knowing he had a limited opportunity, Jack began to pull at his bonds.
For a moment, his mind began to slip back into the familiar pattern, but quickly he squashed that. He wasn't Macgyver anymore and Jack O'Neill solved his problems differently. However, there were opportunities that Jack was willing to take when he spotted them. Nearby, on a tray on a medical table was a small surgical knife. He tried to reach for it, but the straps on his hands prevented him from even touching the table. He did notice that the tray was slightly off the table. Once again his mind began to race, and this time he listened to it, desperate to get out of there. Quickly, he began to loosen his shoe. He pulled at it, until only his toe was still in his shoe and then carefully, he tested the limit of the strap on his ankle.
Feeling hopeful, he calculated the distance and angle and then used his foot to throw his shoe at the tray. His aim hadn't diminished over the years. His shoe flew and then landed on the edge of the tray , causing it to flip over and fling its contents toward Macgyver. Fortunately, when the knife flew, it landed near his hand. Unfortunately, it landed in his hand. Jack grunted as the surgical knife impacted the back of his hand and stuck. Grateful that it was close to his fingers however, he ignored the pain and manipulated the blade until he was holding it in his fingers. He began to saw frantically at the strap until it broke and his hand yanked freed. Then, using his hand, he undid the straps on his other hand and feet.
Rolling to the side, he sat up, wincing as his neck twinged with pain, and then he quickly put back on his shoe. Staggering, he made it to the door, grateful to find it unlocked.
When he stepped outside, he was in for another shock. The guard was lying on the floor unconscious. A little further down the hall, he could see another person on the ground. Concerned with this bout of good fortune, Jack began to carefully move down the hall, his military training kicking in. Instantly he was Jack again, and the moment of Macgyverisms were forgotten.
His senses trained for any movement, it was almost worse when nothing happened. He crept down the hall passing body after body, though they all seemed to be alive still. Soon he came upon a door that was brightly labeled, 'exit.' Moving cautiously, he placed a hand on the door knob, and jumped slightly when a noise finally interrupted the silence.
"Macgyver."
Jack spun around, his hand automatically going to a gun that wasn't there, and he dropped down in a crouch.
A man stepped out from behind a nearby doorway. "Is it really you, Macgyver? You look so different."
Jack instantly knew he had two ways to play this, but he desperately wished he had a gun so he could do the thing he really wanted to do. Standing across from him was Murdoc. The man had aged a bit in the last seven years, but though there was grey in his hair and lines on his face, the man still oozed danger and death.
"Who are you?' he snapped, slowly rising to his feet, playing 'dumb' as he did so often with his team.
"I'm hurt, Macgyver. Don't tell me you have amnesia again. Do I need to do something to jog your memory? Especially after I'm helping you escape."
"Whoever you are," Jack said evenly, "I appreciate your help, but I'm afraid you have me mistaken for someone else." Then, not waiting for a reply, Jack turned and opened the door, stepping outside.
"Don't you dare turn away from me now!" Murdoc roared and laid a hand on his shoulder. Acting instinctively, Jack seized the hand, turned and pulled it up behind Murdoc, and shoved the other man into the wall, putting pressure on his shoulder.
For a moment, pure anger seized Jack and he almost twisted the arm that he held in his grasp, but knowing that would give away his charade, he released the other man instead. He once again turned and walked out the door.
"Look, Macgyver," the other man said, following him through the door and out to the empty street beyond, "you can't fool me. I've missed you the last seven years. My targets have all been boring empty-headed fools. I've eagerly searched for an actual challenge, and wouldn't you know, you finally show up."
"Look, mister," Jack said, wheeling on the other man, "My name is Colonel Jack O'Neill, United States Air Force. Two 'L's in that. I don't know who you've mistaken me for, but if you don't leave by the time I find a gun, I'll shoot you."
Murdoc froze in his tracks. His mouth kind of dropped open, and his eyes grew comically large. "Wha..." he began to say, but then an alarm began to sound from the building behind them, and both men took off running before more could be said.
Desperately hoping the other man believed him, Jack raced down the street with his arch-nemesis in tow. It was turning out to be a whacked out day.
Racing into an alley, Jack pulled up against the wall and listened. Murdoc came to a stop right behind him. Jack ignored him and tried the back door that led into a nearby building. It was open, and Jack quickly went inside. Instantly, sound greeted him, and he was relieved to find himself in a small restaurant. Murdoc followed him silently, his face troubled.
Jack walked up to the counter, where a pretty young woman, stood smiling brightly. "Can I take your order," she asked with a wink at the attractive older man.
"Actually," Jack said, "do you have a phone I can use?"
"Sure," the girl said, looking disappointed, "you can use my cell phone." She pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to Jack and he nodded gratefully and went and stood against the wall. Murdoc continued to follow him, still staring at him quizzically.
Jack quickly punched in the familiar numbers and then gave his identification number. The phone rang four times before it was finally picked up.
"Look," General Hammond's voice came over the other end, "whoever this is, we are in the middle of an emergency..."
"General," Jack said, and the sound of his voice stopped the man cold.
"Jack!" Hammond cried, "where are you?"
"Hang on," Jack said. He turned toward the girl at the counter who was watching him and asked, "What's the address for this place?"
The girl told him, and Jack quickly relayed the message back.
"We'll be there in five minutes," Hammond promised, "don't go anywhere."
"Thanks," Jack said, and hung up. He handed the phone back to the girl and went and sat down at the table. Murdoc was starting to creep him out, not that he didn't usually. He was just so quiet, staring at him like he had grown a second head. When Jack sat at the table, he sat down across from his and just kept staring.
Finally, Jack had enough. His neck ached, he still felt sick, and this nightmare from his past just kept following him around. "Take a picture!" he snapped.
Then, Murdoc's face shifted and he began to laugh. It was a sound that had haunted Jack's sleep for years.
"It's brilliant!" the man cried. "No wonder I never found you. Who would ever look for peace-loving, gun-hating Macgyver in the military? But honestly, Mac, I never saw you as the running kind."
"Look, you insane wacko," Jack said, "go be crazy somewhere else. I've got to get back to work soon. Choose someone else to be delusional about."
At that moment, Murdoc turned dangerous. Leaning forward, he seized Jack's collar and pulled him toward him. "You," he snarled, "don't get to play games with me. I'm the one with the games. I know who you are Macgyver. I know you encountered Penny Parker today, and she called Pete to let him know you were alive. One of my contacts called me and told me about the lab today. You may be different, but you are still Macgyver."
The next moment, Murdoc's knife was in Jack's hand and at Murdoc's throat. "I'm really, really not," Jack growled, and Murdoc's face showed surprise again. "If you really want to go to jail," Jack continued, "fine by me. Stay here until the troops arrive."
Slowly, he released Murdoc. Keeping his knife, Jack leaned back in his seat and began to play with it dangerously. Murdoc looked suitably confused.
"Come on, Macgyver," Murdoc said, "charades up. You may have changed a bit, but you're still you. Just admit it."
"You don't understand, Murdoc," Jack said, "Macgyver's dead. He died with Sam."
Murdoc's eyes widened at the partial admission and then he glared at the other man.
"You're not dead," he growled, "you're right in front of me."
Jack just shook his head. Then the front doors burst open, and Simmons was pointing a gun at him.
"O'Neill!" the man roared, "I am going to..." but Jack's knife was already in motion. It impacted the other man's gun, and knocked it flying from his hands, and Jack was up and charging at him. Both were soon grappling, and the girl at the counter began to scream.
Murdoc calmly walked over and picked up the gun. Jack and Simmons didn't notice over the racket they were making. Outside, a gun battle was beginning. SG-1 had pulled up just as the rest of Simmons' team had surrounded the restaurant. Simmons' men were firing at SG-1. Bullets began to cut through the restaurant, and Jack froze as he remembered the danger of the girl who had helped him out at the counter. Then he leaped over the counter and took the girl to the ground. "Stay down," he whispered. "Call the police."
Here eyes were wide with fright, but she nodded, and Jack stuck his head up just in time for a bullet to whiz past his ear. He ducked again, and suddenly Murdoc was by his side. "I was wrong, Macgyver," Murdoc said, his eyes alight with excitement, "you haven't changed a bit."
"Save it," Jack hissed, and then peeked over the counter again. The bullets were slowing down, and then he could hear sirens in the distance coming closer.
"Another time," Simmons' voice echoed across the room and a few moments later, he heard the screeching sound of a fast getaway. Jumping over the counter, he raced outside, and came face to face with Teal'c.
"O'Neill," the man said, looking relieved. Daniel and Carter weren't far behind. The police pulled up a moment later. Predictably, Murdoc was already gone, but Jack couldn't shake the itch between his shoulder blades that told him he was still being watched.