Present time…
As he had expected, Pete Thornton had needed almost the whole day to reach the top of the ridge, which the arms dealer´s camp was located somewhere behind. He was out of breath and exhausted when he stopped next to a huge rock, only a few steps short of a place that he expected to allow him a first good view of the valley behind the ridge. And hopefully, a good view of the compound as well. He had scolded himself several times during the day for not being as disciplined concerning his physical condition and training as he had been during the earlier stages of his career. Since they had discovered that they´d actually first met in the desert, years ago, MacGyver had – once and again – teased him about the pounds he had gained over those years. By now, as he strove to regain control over his panting breath, Pete Thornton internally admitted that the kid was right. He was out of shape.
The memory of MacGyver teasing him took Thornton´s mind back to the main reasons why he had chosen to take that hike… the kid… his whereabouts… and the intel he should have gathered… To this point, he had neither seen nor heard any trace of him.
The agent took a deep breath and straightened himself next to the boulder. The sun was nearing the horizon, but the light of dawn would allow him to search along the ridge for any signs of MacGyver´s presence for a few more hours. The young man had been dropped off at the same site as Pete and had presumably taken a similar route to the top. But knowing MacGyver a little better after a few months, Thornton didn´t expect it to be easy to find him. He puffed out a breath and with renewed determination strode around the corner of the huge rock. Keeping his back close to that rock, Thornton let his eyes scan the valley he now saw laying below him.
After a couple of moments, he spotted the compound the blurry satellite pictures had shown. Quickly, he crouched down to keep himself hidden, shrugged off his backpack, and dug into it for his binoculars. Then Thornton did a closer survey of the buildings, the airstrip leading away from them, and the small airplane resting on it.
The whole compound had been built on a small, cleared plateau above a river, with a steep, rocky slope leading down to that river, and huge old trees surrounding it toward the mountain. On one end of the plateau, Thornton could see the beginnings of a path leading down the ravine which the waters of the stream rushed through. To a boat landing place he couldn´t see down in the ravine maybe? Or just a small trail for fetching water? He spotted only a few men outside the five buildings and took some time watching them, getting a feel for what they did, for how they moved.
One of the wooden buildings was fairly big and the large doors on one of its short sides stood open. Numerous crates were visible through the opening, but Thornton couldn´t read the writings on them from up here. The expected weapons shipment?
The smallest building was closest to the airstrip, its doors closed and several barrels piled up next to it. Airplane fuel? A workshop?
The three remaining buildings were situated on the other side of the cleared area, close to the tree line, fairly the same size, and looked like barracks. Pete Thornton saw lights shining inside through the windows of two of them. So they had to have a generator somewhere…
Thornton was also relieved to see that getting down there wouldn´t take as long as he had needed to get up here. The terrain wasn´t as rough on the other side of the mountain. Relieved, because he knew, he had to take a closer look at all this. Thornton was still too far away to make out any details or even hear what was going on down there. He lowered his binoculars and stuffed them back into his pack. He would use the cover of the early morning´s darkness to get near the arms dealer´s camp.
But first, he had to use the remaining daylight to search for his rookie agent.
Slowly, Thornton rose to his feet again, careful to conceal his presence behind undergrowth and trees. He moved backward until he had reached the backside of the huge rock, where he was safely out of sight of the goons. Only then he positioned his backpack firmly on his shoulders, puffed out a deep breath, and started his walk along the ridge, just below the top of it, looking out for any sign that MacGyver had been around.
Peter Thornton had been searching along the top of the mountain ridge for almost two hours when he had to admit to himself that his concentration and attentiveness were waning due to his exhaustion. He´d been traveling to this part of the country since yesterday, with very little sleep during the night thanks to rough flights, and forced to get up real early to meet the helicopter in time. He´d been on the move on this darn mountain for the whole day. He was getting tired.
It was high time for him to find a place where he could set up camp and take a break. By now, the sun had long set behind the mountains and it was getting significantly darker in the forest. But he still had to find his rookie agent. So far, he had seen neither hide nor hair of him. With a defeated sigh, Thornton stopped next to a huge tree and rested with one hand braced against it.
Wilderness investigations had never been his favorite. Yet his concern about the fate of the young man kept him going. After a minute, he took a deep breath and stepped around the tree, still steadying himself against it with his hand. Only a second later though, he flinched away from the trunk and stopped surprised. His fingers had sensed something he hadn´t expected, something that didn´t seem to belong to the coarse bark of the tree, something that seemed non-natural, but rather man-made.
Warily, Thornton turned back to take a look at what his fingers had discovered. He froze for a moment and let his eyes wander over the tree. A thin string and wire, entwined with each other, hanging from a strong branch 10 or 12 feet above the ground, just beside the trunk, some of it concealed by the moss growing on the bark. The light beige of the string and the military green of the wire added well to hiding them from quick glances. Their bottom end was covered with a small rock, right between the roots of the tree.
When Thornton crouched down to examine it further and turned the stone around, he saw the ends of string and wire secured to the stone with strips of silvery duct tape. He frowned at it at first sight, but then recognition struck him and his face lit up a little. He knew only one man to build contraptions like this: MacGyver.
Then Thornton remembered, that they´d had trouble receiving MacGyver´s message on the first evening, but from the next onward the signal had been crystal clear. Now he understood. MacGyver had built a large antenna, just below the top of the mountain, and like this, he had enhanced the signal range of the mobile radio set, the DXS had provided him with. Positioned perfectly, so the arms dealers wouldn´t be able to easily pick up his signal and listen to his transmissions.
Thornton laid the rock back down and sighed with relief. So the young man had been around. He stood up and let his eyes scan the surrounding forest and ground. Now, where would he have set up camp? Where might he have found protection from the thunderstorms a few days ago?
Inwardly, Thornton chided himself for not being better at reading tracks. Slowly he walked circles at growing distances from the tree, hoping the thunderstorms hadn´t wiped out all traces MacGyver might have left behind. After a couple of minutes, he stopped at a rocky slope below the tree and knelt down. Some of the soil and moss had been scratched off some of the rocks, as if someone had made his way upward between them. Thornton´s gaze followed the marks that were barely visible in the dim light.
Alright MacGyver, if that´s where you came from, he thought, took a deep breath, and proceeded downward. He stuck roughly with the direction the marks on the rocks had pointed to after passing the slope. A little while later, Thornton came across a small, mostly flat plateau. As he looked around it, he noticed the remains of a fireplace and something that had been built out of branches and covered with leaves. It had probably been some tilted canopy once, but was now badly damaged, most likely by the storms.
This place might have been where MacGyver had built his camp, but he must have been forced to move somewhere else by the bad weather, Thornton mused. He stood still for several moments, glanced around himself, and tried to imagine what might have gone through his rookie´s mind at the time. Where could he have found shelter?
Thornton crouched down and pulled the maps and satellite pictures out of his backpack. He compared what he saw on paper to what he had seen in reality, quickly made out his current position, and then searched the map for anything close that would be helpful during heavy rain, strong winds, and lightning. The only thing that stuck out was a cliff at a little distance below and sideways from the plateau, closer toward the river.
Could there be a cave? Or at least a ledge to use for protection?
With renewed determination, Thornton stuffed the papers back into his pack, got to his feet, and hurried down- and sideways on the slope.
The waning light had slowed Thornton down a bit, but soon, he reached the bottom of the nearby rock face. He quickly spotted the mouth of a cave that was accessible through a couple of yards of easy climbing upward. He froze, listening intently, and watching out for any signs of his young agent. But he saw no light, no hint of a fire inside the cave. In fact, the whole scenery was eerily quiet.
"MacGyver?" he half-called out. "MacGyver, are you up there?"
Nothing … no response whatsoever.
Thornton sighed, adjusted his backpack on his shoulders, and started his climb upward. After only a few minutes, he reached the entrance of the cave, dropped his pack, and dug his flashlight out of it. He hoped not to encounter someone four-legged and unfriendly… like a bear, for example…
Keeping close to the cave wall, Thornton straightened himself and turned on the flashlight. Just a couple of feet from the entrance, he spotted the remains of a fireplace, but as he wanted to approach it, one of his ankles caught at something thin, that gave way with his momentum. Instantly, Thornton saw a thin branch toppling over in the corner of his eye, and only a split second later, several small rocks tumbled to the ground with a distinctive clattering sound, clearly audible and echoing through the cave.
Thornton flinched back, and his free right hand automatically whipped toward the revolver, he kept hidden under his jacket in a shoulder holster – but nothing more happened.
After a moment, his sudden shock faded and he took a closer look. A thin string like the one he´d come across earlier in the woods… secured in a crack on one side of the cave… stretching across it just a few inches above the ground, barely visible… tied to the stick that had toppled over when his shoe had caught on the string… which had allowed the rocks to fall… an intruder alarm. Another contraption that seemed to bear MacGyver´s signature… And I´ve been careless enough to set it off, Thornton chided himself inwardly.
He stepped over the string, crouched down next to the fireplace, and reached out with one hand. Holding it above ashes and burned wood, he sensed no warmth at all. It had been at least a few hours, maybe longer since this fireplace had been in use. Then he noticed that so far, no one had reacted to the intruder alarm going off. Thornton stood up again and directed the beam of his flashlight to the back of the cave.
"MacGyver?" he called out once more. "MacGyver, are you in there? … It´s me, Pete Thornton!"
Slowly, now more alert for another probable surprise, he followed the cave around a bend when he got no answer. The cave pointed a little upward from there on and he didn´t have to go very far until the light beam caught on a dark blue sleeping bag and a bright blue backpack. Thornton instantly recognized them as the stuff MacGyver had packed. He´d seen both when the kid had left for his mission, when they´d said their goodbyes. He puffed out a relieved breath.
There wasn´t much to see apart from sleeping bag, roll mat, and backpack, but he´d finally found the place where MacGyver had set up his camp after the thunderstorms. Thornton looked around and quickly understood why he´d chosen the spot. Protected from wind and rain behind the bend, a bit upward from the entrance, dry and mostly flat ground, and also hidden very well from outside – unless the fireplace in the front was alight.
But still… he hadn´t found the man himself.
On the other hand… this was the most likely place for him to return to.
Letting the light beam wander over the camp, Thornton discovered the mobile radio set and kneeled down to give it a closer look. Parts of its casing had been removed, revealing some burnt circuits and components – probably caused by a short circuit. Some of the wires had been replaced – most possibly in an attempt to repair it. Pete Thornton sighed. So that was why the kid had stopped reporting in. The radio set was out of order.
Slowly Thornton got to his feet again. Finding MacGyver´s stuff and the reason why his daily updates had stopped eased up some of his worries but also made him realize how exhausted he himself was by now. It was high time for him to eat something and get some rest. Thornton returned to the front of the cave to pick up his own backpack while he mused about his options.
After a couple of moments, he agreed with himself that his best choice was to wait right here for MacGyver. If he was still somewhere out there investigating… he´d turn up in the cave sooner or later. Thornton stared out to the darkening forest surrounding the rock face for a minute. If he didn´t… Thornton would have to wait out the night anyway and continue his search for the young man at the first light of the next day. With another deep sigh, the senior agent turned back to the cave, reset MacGyver´s intruder alarm, and settled for the night behind the bend, close to his rookie´s belongings.
One and a half months ago…
MacGyver was panting and drenched with sweat when he closed the door of his apartment behind himself. Since he´d been hired by the DXS and had started the training for his new job as a government agent, he had taken up running again. The first assessment tests had shown him, that he´d been in better shape during his time in the army. He had realized that he had let his physical training slide too much during the last few years. During the past months – whenever he´d had enough free time between classes – Mac had demanded a lot more from his body.
He took the few steps to the kitchen, filled up a glass with water at the sink, and downed it in one go. Then he put the glass down, rested both hands on the counter, and took a couple of deep breaths. It didn´t quite help that it was a hot day today.
After several minutes, his breath and heart rate had slowed down to a more comfortable level, and he left the kitchen and strode to the bathroom. MacGyver pulled off his damp t-shirt, dropped it to the ground, and turned on the shower. He knew it took a couple of moments to get the hot water flowing. Mac used those moments to retrieve a fresh towel and strip out of his remaining clothes before he stepped into the shower. The warm water loosened the tension in his strained muscles and it also eased up his inner turmoil.
The lectures he´d been attending during the last days, and especially the one today, had dealt with unsettling topics. He took his time while letting the soap and water wash away not only his sweat but also part of his worries. When he dried himself off afterward, he felt more human again. MacGyver slipped into fresh clothes and walked over to his living room window.
He watched cars and people flowing by below for several minutes, suddenly acutely aware that probably none of them knew about the chances and risks government agents took while doing their intelligence work each and every day – to ensure that their ordinary, everyday life stayed just the way it was. Free… and peaceful.
MacGyver sighed deeply.
On the contrary… it was just as possible that one or more of them were operatives from 'the other side'. He straightened himself and squared his shoulders. He wasn´t sure yet, how to deal with the constant, underlying mistrust he would have to get used to in his life from now on.
His field certification test was coming up during the week after the next one, and he knew he had some studying, reviewing, and practicing ahead of him until then. Some of the classes, he´d been obliged to take, had posed no problem for him – especially the ones covering science, fun stuff like lock-picking, or explosives and their handling. He had expected those to be easy for him. The language training on the other hand… He had just needed to polish up his Spanish and French knowledge, but getting into German and Russian had taken some serious effort during the past weeks.
Nevertheless, MacGyver felt confident, that he would be able to meet the required level by the time he would have to take the test. Although until now, no one had been willing to tell him about the precise modalities of said test. There would be a theoretical and a practical assessment – that much he knew – but no information on the details. Just a date, a time, and a place where he had to show up.
MacGyver shot the folders containing his lecture notes on his desk a sideways glance and sighed again. Those meant some long evenings during the days to come until that date.
But not today, he suddenly decided. This evening, I need some time for myself… and something to get rid of the pictures swirling through my head. Having a vivid imagination is a wonderful thing, but after a lecture like the one I´ve heard today… after all the possibilities my imagination has conjured up… I´d love to be able to just switch it off.
With newly found energy, MacGyver turned away from the window, grabbed his jacket from where it was lying over the backrest of his sofa, and strode toward the door. He stuffed some money into his jeans´ pocket and picked up his keys on his way out. He was going to pick up some Chinese food for dinner, pick one of his favorite Western movies to watch, and go to bed early. He thought about what to get from his preferred Chinese restaurant while he descended the stairs, left the building, and turned toward his car once he´d reached the sidewalk.
But his thoughts were interrupted when he noticed who was coming his way. He slowed down.
"Hello, MacGyver!" Pete Thornton called out smiling. "Great timing."
MacGyver stopped next to his car and straightened himself.
"Hello, Sir." he returned the greeting. He hadn´t seen the senior agent all too regularly during the last weeks, in fact during his whole training, although he was sure Thornton had kept track of his progress. But him being here… now… puzzled Mac. "What can I do for you?"
"Nothing." Thornton waved off his question with a quick gesture. "Nothing, but giving me some time for a little talk…" he then admitted and stopped in front of MacGyver.
"I was just about to pick up dinner…" Mac half-heartedly objected.
If his new boss came to his apartment to see him… because he wanted to talk about something… this was likely to be important… on second thought though… it was early evening… MacGyver knew he was 'off duty' for today. But before he could tell the senior agent about his longing for solitude tonight, Thornton agreed happily.
"Perfect. I haven´t had dinner yet. I´ll pay if this is okay for you." Thornton smiled.
"Well, I was…" Mac muttered caught off guard and with a somber expression. "I was hoping for some time for myself tonight… Sir."
Thornton´s underlying air of authority made him subconsciously switch back to addressing his new boss with the same discipline and honorific as he´d learned in the army. Thornton´s smile grew more serious with Mac´s feeble protest.
"Yes… I figured as much as that," he said. "It´s the reason why I am here."
"What?" MacGyver raised his eyebrows surprised. "How did you figure I…"
"Dr. Gorman came to see me after today´s class." Thornton cut him off firmly. "But I´d prefer to discuss this matter under more private circumstances." He gestured to the sidewalk.
MacGyver stayed silent and stuffed his hands into his pockets. Dr. Gorman… the psychiatrist… one of the main speakers today… What he´d talked about, had not only fueled Mac´s imagination into running wild but also brought back some memories of his time in Vietnam. Haunting ones. Mac tried to keep his thoughts from showing on his face, yet Thornton seemed to be able to read them anyway. His smile turned softer – and also a little concerned.
"Come on, MacGyver." he encouraged the younger man. "I told you, I´ll pay."
MacGyver sighed. He saw no way to avoid the situation. After all, this was his new boss.
"Fine." he reluctantly offered. "I was about to drive to my favorite Chinese restaurant."
"Sounds great." Thornton nodded. "Were you about to pick up the food and return to your place… or headed to the beach?"
"I was hoping for a quiet evening at home…" Mac replied hesitantly.
"I won´t keep you long." The older man assured. "I´ll ride with you if this is okay?"
"Yeah, sure." MacGyver shrugged, yet couldn´t help but smirk with a memory. "Just don´t wave your gun in my face this time, will ya?"
They had fallen easily into casual conversation over choosing their meal in the restaurant, while returning to Mac´s apartment, and during consuming their dinner. Thornton had noticed some of the odd and unusual stuff MacGyver kept in his apartment quickly after the young man had invited him in, but had reigned in his curiosity while Mac had prepared the table and during their meal.
Now, as soon as they had finished, and MacGyver got up and took the dishes to the kitchen sink, Thornton stood up and allowed himself a closer look at the place. The dossier, he´d put together on MacGyver before recruiting him, had told him a lot about his life choices. While he´d gone through the 'Murdoc incident' together with him Thornton had learned a lot about how he reacted to 'special' situations. But seeing how he lived offered a lot of information about the person he was.
It wasn´t Pete Thornton´s usual mode of operation to seek out a new recruit at home during the evening, but with this young man… something was different. He cared more about MacGyver than he had about any other aspiring agent ever before. He couldn´t yet say why, but after what Dr. Gorman had told him about in particular Mac´s reactions to today´s class, Thornton had felt the need to check if the young man was alright.
"So, you´re into hockey?" Thornton asked while he inspected the ice hockey gear leaning in one corner of the living room.
MacGyver was caught off guard by the question after a few minutes of silence while he´d been clearing the table. He didn´t look up from his business in the kitchen though.
"Since I was a kid." he then answered. "Most Minnesotans learn to skate on the ice as soon as they´re capable of standing." He turned to his boss with a wistful smile only to see Thornton watching him. "I try to play as often as I get some spare time."
Thornton saw a brief flash of pain cross Mac´s eyes with his words.
"Sounds like it's very important for you." Thornton probed slowly. "Did you have high hopes for yourself?"
MacGyver´s eyes grew even sadder and his gaze dropped to the ground. He was surprised by how natural and not the least awkward it felt to have his superior here, at his home. The conversation with him had been easy-going and he´d expected the older man to ask some personal questions at some point. Seems, 'at some point' is right now, he sighed inwardly.
"Yeah," he admitted with a low voice. "But my chances of making it to the pros were crushed in an accident on the ice that put me into the hospital for several weeks."
"I´m sorry to hear that… My game is golf." Thornton said with sympathy and offered a piece of himself. "But unfortunately, I don´t get to play often."
"I never tried out golf… so far," Mac replied, stepped out of the kitchen, and rested his hands on one of the chairs next to the table. "Haven´t had the chance to yet." Strange, MacGyver thought to himself. We´ve spent some time together during the past months, but it is still highly unusual for him to talk about himself. But his thoughts were cut off by Thornton´s next observation.
"You even got your own small lab," he stated impressed, glancing over Mac´s microscope, test tubes, glass jars, and chemicals.
"Well, yes… but I only dabble in chemistry," MacGyver answered with a smile as Thornton eyed the bookshelf next to his desk. "By education, I´m a scientist, remember? … Not a secret agent in training."
"I do remember…" Thornton replied slowly, while he continued to examine the books, which mostly dealt with scientific or environmental topics. He noticed the humorous and lighthearted tone Mac used to keep the situation from getting uncomfortable, but it made him grow serious. And reminded him of why he´d felt the need to check on the young man in the first place.
MacGyver watched the senior agent silently for a couple of moments but then chose to act. They had both spared out talking about Dr. Gorman and today´s lecture until now.
"With all due respect, Sir…" MacGyver sighed. "I guess, you didn´t come here to take a look at my apartment… or is it standard operating procedure to seek out all new recruits?"
Thornton froze with his question and then turned to face Mac with a serious expression.
"You´re right." he nodded. "I didn´t… and no, it is not."
"So?" MacGyver straightened himself. "If you do bother to come see me… I suppose there´s something different about me."
The older man hesitated to answer at first. MacGyver´s clear-cut question made him realize that he, in fact, did feel different toward this young man than toward the other trainees. He also knew it was a dangerous terrain in their business, but he´d come to truly like him. Nevertheless, as his superior, he, of course, couldn´t admit that.
"There is." Thornton agreed with a low voice.
Mac raised his eyebrows surprised but chose to wait quietly for the man to continue. Thornton cleared his throat and picked his words carefully.
"Most of the applicants, the DXS invites into the training program, have done police work before or do have a military background. All of them see it as a career chance and are fascinated by the term 'intelligence' itself. They decide to apply by themselves." He took a deep breath and then looked directly into MacGyver´s brown eyes for a moment. "You wouldn´t be in that program if we hadn´t met thanks to Murdoc… if I hadn´t convinced you to give it a thought. Your motivations to join this line of work are different… as is your approach to it. I noticed that during the last months."
"So you kept track of how I fared during the courses," Mac stated.
"Of course." Thornton nodded. "I´ve got to justify recruiting you to my department chiefs."
"I made the final decision." MacGyver objected.
"You probably wouldn´t have, hadn´t I been that insistent…" Thornton shot back but his last words trailed off.
"Maybe…" Mac agreed slowly and cocked his head sideways. "Do you regret being that insistent? Do you doubt recruiting me?"
"No!" Thornton´s answer came quick and firm. "Not at all… you´re among the best recruits we´ve ever had. … Do you doubt making the decision?"
"No. I don´t." Mac assured. A quick smile flashed across his face. Not that he´d seen the training program as some sort of competition, but it was nice to hear that his effort paid off and was noticed. But Thornton´s words didn´t add up. There was still something he hadn´t mentioned yet. Something the senior agent was concerned about. MacGyver frowned, let go of the chair, and squared his shoulders.
"Then what has you worried enough to keep me from spending my evening alone?" he probed.
Thornton´s eyes locked onto MacGyver´s again with the straightforward question. Then he smiled briefly.
"You´ve learned quickly to read me," he stated approvingly.
Mac only shrugged silently and stuffed his hands into his pockets. He held Thornton´s gaze and waited for him to finally get to the point. Thornton´s expression went serious again and he sighed as he noticed once more that the young man´s brown eyes lacked their usual energetic sparkle today.
"Dr. Gorman came to me after giving his lecture today… to talk about you." The senior agent started off slowly. "See, I know that today´s topic can be especially unsettling… but you have already shown reactions we don´t expect from our trainees to previous classes… the shooting training, as the most important example."
MacGyver´s face went dark in an instant as a memory from his childhood came to the surface of his mind. The sudden pain, it brought back, made him bite his lower lip nervously. He was thinking about how to reply, how to explain when Thornton continued.
"We expect our operatives and trainees to be aware of the possibility of being captured by the other side during their work. We expect you to be bothered to some extent by hearing about what might happen to you while being interrogated. We know that even only theoretically hearing about what different methods of torture can do to you physically and mentally is terrifying. … At the same time, we don´t expect our recruits to shrug this off all too easily."
For the blink of a second, Mac had been grateful that Thornton hadn´t dug deeper into the reason for his aversion to guns, but his following words had awoken Mac´s imagination once more. He stayed silent while the older man stepped close to the other side of the table and scrutinized him.
"You were the only one to ask questions." Thornton carried on. "About certain details… but then you went quiet, withdrawn… like caught up in your mind. And since Dr. Gorman has already noticed how active your mind usually is during the past weeks… he was concerned about you. So I came here to get an impression of how you´re dealing with today´s lecture."
MacGyver drew in a slow, deep breath and forced himself to hold the older man´s gaze.
"I´m fine." he declared while memories from his time in Vietnam flashed through his head.
"Of course." Thornton´s voice went sarcastic and a little sharp with Mac´s answer. He leaned forward and rested his hands on the table. "Guess, that´s why you wanted to spend the evening alone in the first place, isn´t it?"
MacGyver involuntarily drew back a little with Thornton´s tone and broke eye contact. He puffed out a breath, then walked over to his living room window, and stared down at the now darkening street for the second time tonight.
"Alright, I´m not," he replied a bit impatiently. "So? Getting a theoretical, but vivid impression of what getting tortured does mean rattled all of us. You don´t have to be afraid, your promising recruit will snap under pressure. I can handle it." He sighed. "Still doesn´t explain why you´re here… seeking out only me."
He heard Thornton sigh deeply and the rustle of his clothes as he turned around toward him.
"I trust you to be able to handle the pressure." The senior agent said softly, but firmly after a moment. "I am concerned about what your active mind and imagination might have conjured up… that made you withdraw."
MacGyver´s eyes stayed fixed on the street below as he fought back the pictures running through his mind and tried his best to keep his face blank. When he didn´t respond, Thornton continued.
"MacGyver… your military file doesn´t say so… but have you been a prisoner of war?" he probed cautiously.
MacGyver dropped his gaze to the ground for a few seconds and then shook his head.
"No… not me. A fellow soldier of my unit…" he replied low. "I got wounded but managed to narrowly escape. Made my way back through the jungle alone. Took me a while to reach the base again, since a bullet injury slowed me down… He refused to talk about it after we´d finally managed to rescue him from the enemy's hands. But I got a good look at the cell they had kept him in… and at his condition."
Thornton´s face was serious, but full of sympathy when Mac looked sideways at his new boss.
"Nam has left almost all of us with harrowing memories." the agent acknowledged quietly. "I lost good men there as well."
Mac nodded quietly as he felt his inner tension ease up a little.
"I got caught once during a classified assignment with the special forces," he added a few seconds later. "But I was lucky enough to quickly work my way out of that prison back then."
The older man watched him quietly for several moments before he sighed again.
"So, today´s lecture has not only provided you with some terrifying facts, but also brought back haunting memories," Thornton stated.
Mac didn´t answer and turned back to the window.
"You wanna also tell me what happened during the shooting training?" Thornton asked patiently. "You handled the rifles and guns effortlessly, finished the test with a very good score… yet seemed uncomfortable until you were allowed to return them and leave the shooting range."
MacGyver´s stomach turned into a tight knot. His inner tension and grief were back in an instant.
"I just figured a while ago that I do much better without them," he stated with a low voice.
"Does this also root in your service in the Army? You must have undergone basic training before joining the bomb disposal team." Thornton wasn´t fully satisfied with the younger man´s answer but managed to keep his voice soft.
MacGyver´s jaw tensed, and he swallowed hard as the memory from his childhood again appeared before his mental eye. His father had told him how to handle a gun and how to shoot when he´d still been a kid. He`d been good at it back then as well. Years later, he and his pals had meant to have an exciting afternoon shooting cans and bottles with his father´s gun. But he had made a very bad choice and everything had gone so fatally wrong. His friend Jessie had gotten shot because of him and had died despite his best efforts to save him. The sudden pain, sadness, and guilt that came with the pictures threatened to overwhelm him. He rubbed his hands over his face and then ran them through his hair to cope with some of his emotions.
"Yes, I had to, but no," he replied carefully controlled. "I learned that a lot earlier in my life."
The older man noticed how hard his young recruit was fighting against his emotions to keep his composure. It made him realize once again, how much he liked the younger one already… and how protective he felt toward him.
"Do I need to know about it?" he probed softly. "Do you want to talk about it?"
MacGyver drew in a deep breath and looked sideways at his boss. Thornton´s face was calm, but showed some concern. He waited quietly for Mac´s answer with an expression that somehow reminded MacGyver of his father. Mac tried to decide if he was ready to open up that deeply to the senior agent already; if he was ready to share one of his most painful experiences with the man. He´d grown full of respect for Pete Thornton during the past months and had a high opinion of him… but did he trust him enough? Would his superior judge him for his fatal childhood error?
"No, Sir." he sighed after a moment of consideration. "With all due respect, I don't." Thornton opened his mouth to reply, but Mac quickly raised a hand to keep him quiet. "Just know that I despise guns for a good reason."
"Alright." Thornton nodded slowly. "I´ll, of course, accept that… but you know, that I´ll always be here for you if you do need someone to talk to."
Thornton´s earnest and open expression left no room for doubting his words when MacGyver looked into the older man´s eyes. He wasn´t totally sure, but he thought, he saw more in those eyes than just a boss being concerned about a promising recruit. A moment later though, he dismissed the thought. That would be expecting too much of his new superior, now would it?
"I appreciate that, Sir," he said with a feeble half-smile.
"I´m sorry if I stirred up haunting memories." Thornton straightened himself a little and went a step closer to MacGyver. "Will you be okay?"
"It was the training that reminded me… not you. No need to be sorry." He answered a bit firmer now. A second later he nodded determinedly. "Yeah… I will be okay."
Thornton shot the clock hanging on the wall over Mac´s apartment door a glance and noticed how late it had gotten.
"I´m also sorry for keeping you that long." he apologized. "I promised, I wouldn´t."
Mac also turned to look briefly at the clock, yet then smiled earnestly at his boss.
"It´s alright… actually, I appreciate that you did. You kept my imagination from considering different torture scenarios for a least a few hours." He thanked the older man.
"My pleasure," Thornton replied. "Anytime."
For a couple of moments, the two men smiled quietly in mutual understanding, before MacGyver remembered something else. Thornton saw the shift in the younger one´s focus, when Mac visibly relaxed and turned to fully face him.
"So… golf?" MacGyver abruptly changed the topic with a curious raise of his eyebrows. "Ya think, you can explain to me what´s so fascinating about it?"
Thornton was baffled for a second by the question, but then his smile broadened with the understanding of his recruit´s motivation behind it. The young man was trying to provide his bright mind with something completely new to him, so his imagination could work on something different than torture methods.
"I´ll sure try to." The senior agent nodded. "If you could fix me a drink?"
MacGyver´s smile turned apologetic. "Well… I don´t drink." He shrugged. "About the hardest stuff I´ve got at home is orange juice… or ginger ale."
Thornton was surprised… again. No alcoholic drinks at home… and prefers not to consume any, he noted mentally. Glad to hear that.
"Ginger ale will do just fine." he agreed aloud.
MacGyver nodded and strode back to the kitchen.
"On ice?" he asked over his shoulder.
"Please… if you got some."
Thornton followed slowly, but stayed on the other side of the counter, watching Mac prepare his drink.
"Thanks," he said when Mac handed over the glass a few moments later. The young man had turned fully and rested against the counter opposite to Thornton, looking at him expectantly. His dark eyes have regained their light, their usual sparkle, Thornton noticed with relief. He drew in a deep breath and sorted his thoughts.
"Well, where do I start… golf is said to have its roots in Scotland." he began to explain. "What catches me most is the precision it demands… and the strategic planning needed to conquer the obstacles along the course…"