A/N Special thanks once again to my beta-readers Ridley C. James and Gib for all their help and suggestions with this story! :-)
CHAPTER EIGHT
Mac followed in the GTO, while Nick drove the Tahoe to the Crime Lab, then waited outside as the CSI went in to clock out for the night. The whole time he sat there staring at the front door to the lab, MacGyver considered just driving away and finding Jack on his own. He didn't need someone, especially a cop, watching his every move.
It wasn't like he was planning on breaking the law, or anything. But, as a secret agent, he had learned how to bend the rules quite efficiently and that could sometimes still be construed as breaking them, depending on the cop.
But Nick Stokes seemed to have an emotional stake in this case now, too. And he would probably just put an APB out on the GTO if Mac tore out of there on his own, anyway. MacGyver supposed he would just have to hope that Nick had the same ability as Jack when it came to walking the fine line between right and wrong. It was a necessary evil in their line of work, but both of them always strove to stay on the right side of the line—which was just another reason he and Jack made such a great team.
The blond checked his watch. The detour had only taken twenty minutes so far but it seemed like a waste of precious time that could have been spent looking for Jack. Still, two sets of eyes were better than one, and it also didn't hurt to have someone to bounce ideas off of… which was usually Jack's job.
He took another gulp of his now cold coffee—after all, caffeine was caffeine. Whether it was hot or cold, it still had the same desired effect—which was to keep Mac awake long enough to rescue Jack. After that, he didn't much care what happened.
A moment later, the CSI hopped into the front passenger seat of the GTO, causing MacGyver to jump in surprise. One of the downsides of too much caffeine... being high strung. Ignoring Nick's look of concern, Mac put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. But they hadn't been driving ten minutes when Nick insisted yet again that MacGyver eat something.
"Have you always been this thin?" he asked, only partially teasing.
MacGyver rolled his eyes at the very Jack-like statement, trying to hide the fact that the similarities between the two men were simultaneously comforting and painful.
On the one hand, it was like having Jack at his side again. On the other, Mac felt like he was somehow betraying his friend by finding comfort in the doppelgänger's presence. Like, if Jack knew, he might think that he was being replaced or something. It was silly and superstitious and made Jack out to be some needy four-year-old, but Mac just couldn't help it.
"We can't afford to waste any more time," he told the CSI stubbornly. For a very long moment, he could feel Stokes' eyes on him, watching him carefully, but the guy wasn't saying anything. "What?" Mac finally demanded, unable to take the silent scrutiny any longer.
Nick shrugged. "I just can't help but wonder what Jack's response would be if he knew you were disregarding your own well-being while working to save him."
"Fine," Mac capitulated with a sigh, knowing the CSI had a point, and not liking it one bit. "But only if it's take-out. Who knows what Jack is going through right now, or how much time he has left."
As Mac bit into the cheeseburger that likely was delicious but tasted like cardboard in that moment, he glanced over at the driver's seat. Seeing Nick Stokes driving the GTO just felt… wrong.
To be completely honest, Nick driving Jack's prized possession hadn't been Mac's first choice; it hadn't even been his second. But it was the only choice he had, given the CSI's insistence that MacGyver eat something and Mac's own stubbornness to keep moving. The fact that Nick was a cop made the whole 'eating while driving' option not even up for debate—an argument further hampered by Mac's clear lack of sleep and embarrassing dizzy spell less than an hour earlier.
So, MacGyver had accepted the compromise, albeit under protest, and allowed Nick to take the wheel. And, if the CSI noticed that there were no keys in the ignition, he didn't say anything about it. Considering a typical Crime Scene Investigator's need for attention to detail, Mac figured he'd just understood the necessity to do whatever was needed to get to Jack before…
MacGyver deftly cut off his own thought before it was able to completely form into the emotional minefield of carefully suppressed emotions, forcing himself to instead study the all-too-familiar features of the man sitting next to him.
Acutely aware that he was the one being watched this time, Nick flicked his eyes from the road to Mac and back again. "What?"
"You and Jack are cousins? Seriously? I mean, you look more like twins."
Nick grinned. "We both look like Grandpa Joe. Spittin' image, almost. Man had strong genes, let me tell you."
"Jack's never mentioned you." Mac was somewhat taken aback when it came out as a challenge; not realizing until then how protective he was of his and Jack's friendship.
"Yeah, well, that's not all that surprising. We were close when I was little but then he got deployed and, shortly after that, my parents moved to Dallas. Other than a few letters back and forth while he was overseas, we all kinda lost touch, y'know?" Nick said, doing his best to downplay the letters. He didn't know why Jack hadn't mentioned him but if those letters were anything to go by he was more than likely trying to protect the kid. "I gotta say, though, Jack was more like a big brother to me than a cousin."
"I can relate to that," Mac replied, pulling a paper clip out of his pocket and manipulating the soft metal into a new random shape he hadn't yet decided on.
"With you, I'm pretty sure he's old enough to be your father."
This time, MacGyver kept his silence, not ready to touch that topic with a ten-foot pole.
As an investigator, Nick could read people pretty well, and almost immediately realized his misstep. Time for a distraction. He reached out and flicked the stereo on, happy when one of his favourite songs came blasting through the speakers.
"Oh man," he said, grin a mile wide. "I love this tune!"
He quickly started to sing along, this time oblivious to MacGyver's subtle reactions to the song.
"It was Christmas in Las Vegas, when the locals take the town; Theresa hit a streak and laid her waitress apron down — "
Like a bolt of lightning, Mac's arm shot out and turned the radio off. A second later, he was taking a sip of his soda like nothing had happened.
"You got something against Bob Neuwirth, or just country music in general?"
"Jack was singing that on our drive up here," the blond admitted with a shrug, avoiding any and all eye contact with Nick.
"Oh," the CSI said. "Sorry about that."
"No big deal," Mac lied, embarrassed by his reaction but not willing to take it back either.
Nick cleared his throat. "So, when is this computer hacker friend of yours supposed to get back to you?"
"Actually…" MacGyver looked at his watch. "She should have called by now," he muttered, grabbing his phone off the dash. After dialing Riley's number, the ringing came through the car's stereo speakers.
Nick's eyes widened with mild surprise. "This classic has blue-tooth?"
As soon as the call went to voicemail, Mac hung up and dialed again. "Phoenix customized her… much to Jack's dismay, actually."
"Yeah, well, I like technology as much as the next guy but I gotta side with my cousin on this one. Beauties like this GTO should not be messed with."
Mac shrugged, chewing on his lip as Riley's voicemail answered again. "Comes in handy when people are trying to kill us and Jack is driving while I try to put something together to save our lives, and we're having to give a sit-rep to our boss at the same time," he explained to Nick distractedly. Riley never ignored his calls, and would be especially careful to keep her phone close by for any news on Jack.
Nick's brow quirked as he once again flicked his gaze to MacGyver. "People tryin' to kill you? What kind of think-tank do you guys work for, anyway?"
"The kind that's classified," the blond told him cryptically as he dialed another number and hoped fervently that Bozer would have his cell phone with him despite hospital rules and regulations.
"Okay, got it," Nick replied, not taking offense to Mac's newly clipped tone. Something was apparently up, so he opted to keep his silence while the kid tried to figure it out.
Finally, Bozer's voice filtered through the speakers. "Hello?"
Mac grit his teeth slightly at the still strained voice of his friend. It hadn't been realistic for him to think Bozer might have completely healed after only eight days in the hospital; didn't stop him from hoping, though. "Hey, Boze, how're you feeling?"
"Mac? Where have you been?"
"Jack and I left for a road trip, remember?" He cut his eyes over to Nick. He trusted the guy for the most part, but he certainly wasn't going to yell from the rooftops that the purpose of his and Jack's road trip was to find his dad; that would just open up a whole other can of worms, and way too many questions that Mac wasn't prepared to answer just yet.
"Oh, right!" Bozer said. "These stupid meds are messin' with my memory, man," he grumbled, a touch of irritation entering into his voice.
"I could always ask the hospital to lower the dosage," Mac teased, striving to achieve a laid-back tone he did not feel for his friend's benefit.
"No, no," Bozer returned a little too quickly. "I'm good."
MacGyver's lips quirked despite the seriousness of the situation. His long-time friend could always be counted on for a little bit of comic relief.
"Have you found your dad yet?" Bozer suddenly asked as his memory apparently returned.
The question was asked with equal parts trepidation and hope, but it made Mac cringe just the same. So much for not yelling it from the rooftops. "Not yet," he revealed, avoiding Nick's eyes for all he was worth and promptly changing the subject. "Have you talked to Riley yet today?" he asked. It was clear that Bozer didn't yet know about Jack's kidnapping, so Mac did his best to tread lightly. No need for his roommate to be worried, too. It wasn't like he'd be able to do anything from his hospital room, anyway.
"Yeah," Bozer responded, the wistful smile obvious even over the phone. "She's on her way here for a visit now. Why?"
"No reason," Mac lied, hating the fact that he was being dishonest with his oldest friend yet again, even if it was to protect him from worrying instead of healing. "Can you just ask her to call me when she gets there?"
"Sure thing, Mac." Bozer may not be a fully trained operative yet but he'd had some of the training, most of it on-the-job, not to mention he'd been MacGyver's friend since they were kids; the fact that he didn't seem to suspect any duplicity on Mac's part spoke volumes about the amount of painkillers swimming through his system. "Wait a minute, what aren't you telling me?" he suddenly asked.
"Nothing, man," MacGyver said, so much for that idea.
"Did something happen to Robot?"
Suppressing a relieved sigh, Mac was quick to reassure him. "Sparky is fine, Bozer." The blond smirked when the new topic of conversation earned a new quizzical glance from Nick.
"Sparky is the name Jack gave him," Bozer objected. "He's my dang robot."
"And here I thought we built him." Mac tried hard to come off as normal, but it was getting more and more difficult by the minute.
"That's exactly my point, Mac. We built him—we should be the ones to name him. Jack don't even like robots!"
Mac grit his teeth, feeling more overprotective than usual of Jack, but quickly took a deep breath. If Bozer knew what was happening, he'd be almost as worried about their fearless protector as Mac was… almost. So, MacGyver forced a genial smile and said, "You're absolutely right. You should totally do that. After we get home. But, for now, I gotta get going. I'll call you later, Boze." Before Bozer could object, Mac disconnected the call with a sigh of relief.
Nick glanced over at him. "People trying to kill you, and you built your own robot? I don't care if it's classified, I need to know what you guys do."
Just as Mac was about to reply, the phone rang. Without checking the Caller ID, Mac rolled his eyes and answered on the first ring. "Bozer, I really can't talk right—" He was completely unprepared for the voice that slithered through the speakers.
"Hello, Boy Scout."
"Murdoc?" Mac's head whipped around, as if perhaps he'd be able to see the serial killer through the dashboard speakers.
"You recognized my voice? I have to tell you, MacGyver, I'm truly touched."
Nick opened his mouth to say something but Mac put a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. The CSI instinctively trusted the younger man's instincts and, sensing his silence was crucial to his cousin's survival, remained quiet.
MacGyver didn't know why, but something told him if Murdoc knew he wasn't alone, all the rules in this latest twisted game of his would change—and the new rules would not bode well for Jack. He had no idea how Murdoc had gotten out of prison, nor why he and Jack hadn't been informed, but he'd figure out the 'how' and the 'why' of it all later, for now there was just one thing Mac wanted to know. "Where's Jack?" he growled. "So help me, Murdoc, if you hurt him, I'll — "
"Oh, you'll do what, exactly? We both know you're not a killer, MacGyver," Murdoc snapped, his voice holding an edge that Mac had not often detected in their previous conversations. "That's why I call you 'Boy Scout'," he added cheerfully.
MacGyver felt the presence of Jack's gun at the small of his back, and wondered briefly if Murdoc was right; or if he'd be able to take another life in order to save his partner. He would, of course, do everything he possibly could to avoid such an outcome—but he was surprised by his willingness to do whatever it took to save Jack! He kept that little revelation to himself, however. No need to give Murdoc any more of an advantage than he already had.
"Where. Is. Jack." The clipped words, the cold tone; both brought him crashing back to the 12 hours he'd spent masquerading as Murdoc a two weeks earlier.
"See, that's what we are, MacGyver. We're two sides of the world's immune system. We target people that make society sick, and we stop them."
"Come now, you didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?" Murdoc taunted. "Pull over to the side of the road, MacGyver."
"Why?" Mac asked, narrowing his eyes against the headache starting to throb deep inside his skull.
"Because I'm sending you a link and I want you to watch it while you're on the phone with me, but I can't have you crash into a tree and die on me. I need you to suffer first; and then I want to kill you myself. You know how it is."
Mac could practically hear the sociopath's shrug as he made brief eye contact with Nick. He nodded for the CSI to comply with Murdoc's wishes and pull over to the shoulder.
"Are you pulling over, MacGyver?"
"Yes."
"Wonderful! Now," Murdoc directed, as Nick slowly veered off the road and pulled to a stop on the gravel shoulder, "a few rules, because there always have to be rules with players like you and me. Rule number one, you are not allowed to hang up; rule number two, you are not allowed to press 'mute'. If you do, I will slit Jack Dalton's throat right here and now. Understood?"
"Yes," Mac bit out again in response.
"Good boy."
MacGyver picked the phone up from its perch on the console and waited for the promised link. As soon as it arrived a moment later, he reached out to open it. Then hesitated. If Murdoc wanted to hear his reaction, whatever was in the link would not be good.
"I'm waiting," Murdoc jeered through the speaker.
With no other choice, Mac tapped the link. A video immediately came up on the screen. His heart filled with dread as he recognized his father's living room. Judging by the angle, Mac discerned the footage was coming from the mantel, a hidden camera planted by Murdoc no doubt. There was video but no sound as James MacGyver came into the room, in the same clothes he'd been wearing when Mac had last seen him. In fact, the bruise forming on his cheek, the split lip, and the late afternoon daylight pouring in through the window told MacGyver this had been recorded just shortly after Mac had escaped his father's homemade prison to find Jack.
James sat down on the sofa. He was as still as a statue at first, to the point that Mac thought the recording had paused. Then there was a minute shake of the shoulders. Momentarily perplexed, MacGyver found himself using thumb and forefinger to zoom in on his father's face. The sight of the tears on the bruised face had him zooming back out almost instantly as his heart constricted. He'd never seen his father cry before, which had actually played a part in Mac's own reluctance to show weakness. Even at his mother's funeral, his father had bottled everything up, not shedding a single tear of grief. Seeing him now made Mac think that perhaps he had simply waited until he was alone. Maybe he'd been too hard on the man?
No. Because, although Mac couldn't say he hated his father, exactly, he also wasn't ready to forgive him. Maybe he never would be. Jack wouldn't be in this position, in danger of dying by Murdoc's hand, if it hadn't been for Mac's father. Not to mention the fact that he'd drugged Mac and tried to hold him prisoner like they were acting out some bad remake of Misery.
Jack had told Mac to try forgiving his father, but that was before the guy had helped orchestrate Jack's kidnapping. Did that deserve forgiveness? Knowing Jack and his self-sacrificing ways, he would probably say yes… eventually, anyway. But, once Mac told him what happened after the kidnapping, he was certain Jack Dalton would change his tune.
Even as Mac watched the video, though, he wasn't planning on having his father arrested. He still wanted to get him lots and lots of therapy, but he didn't want him to go to prison. Besides, if James hadn't been susceptible to Murdoc's manipulations, the serial killer would have just found another way to get to Mac.
He watched as his father, thinking he was alone, placed his face in his hands and sobbed.
MacGyver could feel Nick's gaze move from the video to him—studying him, trying to figure out what was happening without giving away his presence to Murdoc.
Getting an idea that might just save his father from whatever fate Murdoc planned to force on him, Mac quietly grabbed a pen and paper from the glove compartment and jotted down his father's address. Handing the paper to Nick, he was relieved to see the CSI pick up on the urgency and instantly send out a text to his co-workers, presumably to get the police to the location asap. At least, MacGyver hoped so.
The video clearly wasn't live, but Mac latched onto the prospect that Murdoc may want to draw out his torture, maybe even carry the charade on for a few days. You just never knew with Murdoc, but the guy certainly loved waiting for the strongest dramatic effect possible.
"What's a daddy to do when he finds out a narcissistic sociopath has taken to filling the gap he created in his son's life?" Murdoc offered in his own demented commentary.
Mac's blood ran cold as he turned towards the speakers again. "What?"
"Oh, yes, didn't James let you in on our little secret? I told him all about your damaged relationship with Jack Dalton. How Jack has been teaching you how to follow in his footsteps as a world-renowned assassin; giving you lessons on the moral imperative of a contracted killer."
MacGyver kept his silence, wondering where Murdoc was going with this particular train of thought—and one hundred percent certain that he wanted off the train before the next stop.
He could practically hear Murdoc's casual tilt of the head as he continued. "I may have embellished a little, switched roles with good ol' Jack Dalton for a few minutes. What can I say? I think I was an actor in previous life."
MacGyver returned his attention to the video, just in time to see his father get control of himself again. He couldn't help but replay in his mind all the things he had said to his father; all the things he'd thought about him. When all along, in his own misguided way, James MacGyver really had been trying to protect his son.
Still unaware he was being watched, James wiped his tears away with both hands, then stood to pace over to the window, his back to the camera as he stared out at the street. Then he turned away from the window and stepped over to the mantel.
"Murdoc, what are you going to—"
"Shhhh," Murdoc insisted, as if he were sitting in a movie theater, eating popcorn and drinking soda—and how disturbing was it to think that maybe he was doing just that? "You're gonna miss the best part!"
Another camera snapped into focus, showing James from a different angle as he picked up the photo of himself and Mac on their fishing trip. He stared down at the picture wistfully.
The video suddenly switched to slow motion, igniting a fire of foreboding in MacGyver's gut.
The living room window shattered. "No!" Mac shouted, jolting so hard that his feet thumped heavily against the floorboards of the GTO. Eyes wide with shock, he was able to do nothing but watch helplessly as his father slowly crumpled to the floor. The blood spread across his shirt at an alarming speed, even while in slow motion.
Seconds later, the screen split, showing the two feeds simultaneously. The second camera quickly zoomed in, seemingly on its own, zeroing in on James MacGyver's sightless eyes!
As Murdoc's laughter erupted throughout the vehicle, MacGyver clenched his teeth painfully, biting back the sob that fought for release. He gripped the phone tightly in one hand, the other forming a fist that had his nails digging into his palms. Painfully aware he was under both visual and audible scrutiny, he leaned forward in his seat, crossing his arms over the dash and burying his face into them, striving to shove his emotions down deep where Murdoc would never bear witness!
A calloused palm gripped the back of his neck, and Mac was almost able to pretend that Jack was there with him.
"Focus, MacGyver. Focus." Murdoc's voice slithered through the speakers again. It felt eerily like the vibrato of his words moved straight through the dashboard and directly into Mac's bones, turning the marrow into solid ice. "Let's not forget about dear ol' Jack. I mean, if you react like this because the daddy who abandoned you was killed, how horrible will it be when you lose the one person who has always been there for you, no matter what? Your bridge over troubled water, so to speak. Your one remaining father figure. Will you completely break, MacGyver? Will you dissolve into an inconsolable wreck? Because, I have to tell you, that would be just delicious! One of those endings that make the rest of the movie so worth the sickening Disney feel-good scenes that I've had to endure to get here."
Shrugging off Nick's hand with an appreciative nod, Mac sat back in his seat and took a deep, fortifying breath. He would not let Jack die. It was just not an acceptable outcome. Seeing movement in his peripheral, he turned and saw Nick typing into his phone again. At first glance, the CSI appeared unaffected by what had just transpired—then Mac saw the rapidly pulsing muscle in his new friend's jaw, the sympathy in his gaze when he locked eyes with him.
'Keep him talking,' Nick mouthed, rolling his hand in a continuing motion to back up his words.
Mac scrambled for something to say, the image of his father's death still so vivid in his mind. With a forced calm but still somewhat shaky voice, he finally asked, "Why not text me, Murdoc? Isn't that your usual M.O.?"
"Oh, yes, it is. But you and Matty made this personal when you threatened my son."
"We didn't threaten — "
"So," Murdoc said, talking over MacGyver with ease, "I decided to add my own personal touch to this contract."
Mac latched onto that last word. "Wait. Contract? Someone hired you to kidnap Jack and kill my father?"
"I know. Crazy, isn't it? That someone wants to kill all the people you love almost as much as I do?"
"Who?" MacGyver demanded.
"Tsk, tsk, MacGyver. You know that goes against my Privacy Policy," Murdoc reprimanded. "My clients pay for complete anonymity."
"Just let Jack go and take me, instead!" Mac glanced at Nick and saw the same obstinate 'that ain't happening' look he would have seen on Jack's face, but he didn't care. He would do whatever he had to if it meant getting Jack back alive!
"Why do you care so much, anyway?" Murdoc wondered. "I've always been confused by your friendship. It's like Prince Charming socializing with the town troll."
Mac felt his hackles rise at this scumbag insulting Jack. "I think you've got your character bios mixed up again, Murdoc. See, you're the troll—who will be going back to prison very soon, by the way—while Jack is Sir Lancelot of the Knights of the Round Table."
Murdoc scoffed. "Does that make you King Arthur? I thought you were all about team equality."
"Oh no, I'm not King Arthur," MacGyver replied with false levity. "I'm Merlin. And I've still got plenty of tricks up my sleeve to put you back behind bars where you belong."
The long pause that followed gave Mac a bit of satisfaction, knowing that Murdoc believed the threat for what it was—a promise that MacGyver was bound and determined to keep. Even if it killed him.
"Delusions of grandeur or not," Murdoc finally responded, "the fact remains the same, MacGyver—if you don't find your precious Jack in time, he will be, how shall I say this… up the creek without a Swiss Army Knife?" He laughed, apparently finding his own joke quite humorous. "Any-hoo," he sing-songed. "I'd love to keep chatting—because you are such a wonderful conversationalist—but I must get back to your little Delta Commando friend. And, remember, MacGyver… what is it Jack says? Oh yes; don't try anything hinkey."
"Jack never says—" Before he could finish, Murdoc disconnected the call. Mac instantly turned to Nick, only to get a frown and a shake of the head in answer to his unvoiced question. The trace hadn't worked. MacGyver fought the sudden urge to punch the GTO's dash.
Nick pulled a u-turn in the middle of the two-lane highway and went back the way they'd come.
"What are you doing?" Mac demanded. "We can't just give up!"
"We also can't keep driving aimlessly, waiting for your hacker friend to call," Nick told him. "Now, listen," he added when Mac opened his mouth to object, "I've got some friends of my own that can help us out," he grinned, mischievously—Ecklie was so not gonna like this!
TBC
A/N Thoughts? Reviews spur me on and encourage me to post faster... #justsayin' #wink