MacGyver hurried sideways along the slope with the help of his crutch, trying his best to remain hidden by the undergrowth and not to cause any rustling in the bushes. He had to get those two goons away from Pete´s route – meaning he had to get their attention – without drawing their attention directly at himself.
After a few minutes, he was satisfied with the distance he´d put between Pete and himself and stopped. MacGyver´s mind had gone into overdrive only seconds after he´d first spotted Moreno´s men and by now, some ideas had formed in his head. He´d gotten a little ahead of them since he´d moved in the same direction as they had, and now he needed them to speed up so Pete could leave safely.
He bent down and, with a few quick moves, ripped off a piece of fabric from his already torn pants´ leg. He trimmed it to fit with the help of Pete´s knife, then retrieved the fishing pole from his pocket and extended it. He tied the fabric to its top end, forming a little pouch out of it. Mac weighed it in his hands for a moment, then picked up some gravel from the ground and filled the pouch with it. He shot the bad guys a probing glance and then picked his aim well ahead of them.
Using the fishing rod like a slingshot, Mac used all his strength to throw the small stones way up and sideways along the slope. He ducked behind a tree and watched the stones flying high through the air for a few seconds before they hit undergrowth and rocky ground. The impact caused clearly audible clattering and rustling sounds. MacGyver quickly switched his focus to Moreno´s men, only to see them stop briefly and then hurry off to where they´d heard the noise come from.
MacGyver kept his back pressed against the tree until they had rushed past him without even looking in his direction, pushed the fishing pole together to its small size, and let out a sigh.
Now Pete can leave. Now he and the intel will be safe. Now I just gotta keep them busy.
Pete Thornton had stepped up to the tree MacGyver had hidden behind after the young man had left. He´d kept Moreno´s patrol under close observation during the following minutes. Because he´d focused so intensely, surrounded only by the silence of the forest, the distant, but sudden loud clattering of stones on the rocky ground startled the senior agent. He flinched at the unexpected noise, and his head snapped around toward it.
This has to be MacGyver´s doing, he realized as quickly.
Only seconds later, he heard a muffled shout from one of Moreno´s men and hurried to concentrate back on them. Frozen behind the trunk, Pete watched as they went still for a moment, listening intently, before they ran off toward where they had heard the noise from. Toward where MacGyver presumably was.
Pete drew in a sharp breath while he watched them disappear from his sight. As soon as he couldn´t see them anymore, he pushed himself off the tree with a deep sigh, turned around, and hurried off downward. He picked a fairly straight trail toward the valley´s floor, avoiding all too open terrain wherever he could.
All the time he strove to focus solely on his task of keeping the intel he carried safe, but failed. His thoughts returned to the young man he´d gotten to know a lot better since yesterday morning. The young man, who´d decided to head off on his own. The young man who´d chosen to face those thugs alone, despite his weakened condition. All because he put completing their mission first and foremost. While he descended, Pete deeply hoped, MacGyver would be there… in time… to meet the helicopter.
MacGyver had waited for Moreno´s men to almost reach the spot where the gravel had hit the ground before he hurried off again. He moved sideways along the slope once more, but this time also a little downward. He´d remembered a rock face close to the valley floor that was quite high and therefore suited really well for the last leg of his plan. He gave the goons a few minutes to examine the area he´d drawn them to before Mac stopped and used his makeshift slingshot again. He threw a little less gravel this time, making less noise, but enough to keep the men on his tail. He more heard than saw the thugs following his lead since dense undergrowth blocked his sight on this part of the slope. Once more, he waited for them to reach the location he´d lured them to before he continued his way to the rock face.
MacGyver was panting heavily when he stopped close to the edge of the cliff. He took a few moments to calm his breath while he assessed the scenery in front of him. Barely a minute later, a detailed plan had formed in his head. He leaned his crutch against a tree close by and shrugged out of Pete´s padded coat. He shivered involuntarily as the cool mountain air hit his feverish skin which was now only protected by his t-shirt and shirt. Mac froze for a moment, forced to acknowledge his still weakening condition, but then hurried to crouch down.
He laid out the jacket on the ground in front of him, grabbed fallen branches from around himself, and gathered them inside the coat, its sleeves, and its hood. Once he was satisfied with the amount of stuffing material, MacGyver closed the front zipper and eyed his makeshift dummy for a moment. From a little distance… and once it´s moving… it should look like the upper body of someone who´s fleeing, he thought. Then he retrieved the wire from his pocket and quickly wrapped it a few times around the 'neck' of his dummy. He continued by forming a loop at the back of the stuffed hood out of the remaining wire, making the loop a little bigger than the coat´s hood.
MacGyver left the dummy lying on the ground as he gingerly got to his feet and dug the string out of his pocket. He eyed the edge of the rock face, couldn´t avoid noticing how far down below the solid ground was, and instantly felt his fear of heights kick in. Mac drew in a deep, steadying breath and puffed it out a moment later. He pushed the sudden terror to the back of his mind and focused ahead. Alright, now for the tricky part of my preparations, he thought.
After glancing upward along the slope, to make sure Moreno´s goons were still busy at the last site, MacGyver warily limped along the edge, almost across the full distance to the other end of the cliff. A crooked tree grew there, close to the edge, with a couple of low branches reaching out over said edge. Mac quickly tied one end of the string to one of those branches, a bit above waist height, and then hurried to retreat toward where he´d left the stuffed coat while he carefully rolled out the string.
He threaded the string through his dummy´s wiry loop and then scanned the tree he´d leaned his crutch against. After a brief consideration, he chose a branch just above his head and handed the string over it. MacGyver picked up the dummy, leaned it upright against the trunk of the tree, and then cautiously gathered up any remaining slack in the string. He let the string hang next to his crutch and shot his contraption a final probing glance before he reached for his fishing pole.
All set. Time to call the guests of honor, he mused with a glance at his watch. Just a little more than half an hour since I left Pete. He should be at a safe distance by now. If I´ll manage to take a fairly straight route to the clearing after my final distraction, I should be able to make it to the clearing in time as well…
He extended the pole and dropped some stones from the ground into the fabric pouch at the end of it. Mac licked his lips, picked his aim, and threw for a third time with all his strength. But this time, he froze at the end of the swing of his slingshot. He watched the pouch made out of the fabric of his pants being torn off the fishing pole by the weight of the stones and sailing high up in the air together with the gravel.
"Aww, man…" Mac sighed as he observed, but his paralysis loosened at the moment the stones hit the ground, clattering loudly.
MacGyver quickly drew back behind the undergrowth, pushed the rod together, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he reached for the string, hurried to unravel its remaining length, and assessed how much distance he might be able to put between himself and his diversion. He got a safe hold on its end, grabbed his crutch with his free hand, and cautiously retreated deeper into the thicket. Slowly, he pulled the string tight on his way back and stopped just before it would have lifted the stuffed jacket off the ground.
Leaning on his crutch, Mac wrapped the string around his fingers once and drew in a deep breath. He had to give it a quick and sharp pull for his contraption to work. All his senses went into high gear while he waited for Moreno´s men to turn up. His eyes scanned his surroundings, mentally mapping out his getaway route down the steep slope close to the rock face. Once he´d triggered his final distraction, he would have to leave. Fast. Or they would notice him. And probably shoot him on the spot.
It took only a few minutes until MacGyver heard the goons coming closer. They dashed through the forest hurriedly at first, not caring about the noises they caused, but slowed down once they neared the spot where the rocks had hit the ground. Mac heard them talking to each other while they approached, but their voices were too quiet. He couldn´t understand a word. Their caution drew Mac`s inner tension to another level. He held his breath as a feverish wave of shivers shook his body unexpectedly.
"Not now!" he growled low to himself and tried his best to mentally push against the still lingering headache, the lightheadedness, and the throbbing in his leg, and instead strove to focus on his task.
Moreno´s men had just reached the spot and started examining the ground when Mac glanced upward at them through the thicket he was hiding behind. He knew he had to be patient and had to give them some time… but at the same time, he knew, the longer he waited, the less time he would have to reach the clearing. He would have to hurry anyway… and he hoped that his body wouldn´t fail him, that he was still physically up to it. Leaning on his crutch, MacGyver let his gaze drop to the ground, while his ears stayed alert, and he took deep steadying breaths. He strove to concentrate, to gather some strength, and to control his physical discomfort.
Only a minute or two later, a low crackling sound startled him. MacGyver´s eyes snapped up to Moreno´s goons. With alarm, he noticed that one of the men held the bloodied fabric of his pants, which had flown off together with the stones, in his hand. But what really worried Mac was the portable radio set – kind of like a high-end walkie-talkie – the second man was talking into. Oh no, he sighed inwardly. Now they don´t suspect anymore but know that I´ve survived. And he´s probably calling in reinforcements at the moment… to help search for me. Now making them believe I´m fleeing in a different direction isn´t gonna be enough to keep Pete and the intel safe. Now I gotta allow them to kill me… convincingly.
MacGyver´s breath sped up subconsciously. He narrowed his focus on the men but couldn´t hear whom to or what about they were talking on the radio. A couple of moments later, the man lowered the walkie-talkie and hooked it to his belt. Mac ducked his head a little, checked his secure hold on the string, and quietly puffed out a breath as he returned to observing Moreno´s men. They examined the area next to themselves even closer before they raised their gaze to the thickets surrounding them.
MacGyver´s grip on his crutch and the string tightened. He needed to surprise those thugs. To be able to do that, they needed to turn away from him and the rock face, at least briefly.
Time seemed to stretch almost unbearably until, just for a few seconds, both men were facing upward, to the top of the mountain. Mac subconsciously held his breath for a beat and then gave the string a sharp tug to pull it tight.
The coat dummy was jerked up into the air abruptly once the string straightened, toward the branch the string stretched over. It dangled close to that branch and the trunk for a moment, suspended by string and wiry loop, and then steadied itself. Mac´s breath caught in his throat as the sudden concern, his contraption wouldn´t work as planned, rushed through him. But then his dummy started moving.
Hanging from the loop, it slid down the inclined string, first slow, but getting faster real quick, toward the crooked tree, Mac had tied the string to. It had caused some rustling noise while getting pulled up through the thicket close to the tree trunk and now caused even more as it brushed along the undergrowth near the edge of the rock face.
First the sounds, then the movement caught the attention of Moreno´s goons. Within seconds, MacGyver heard agitated shouts from above.
"Look!"
"There he is!"
"Shoot him!"
MacGyver flinched involuntarily when the first shots rang out. The initial bullets missed their target as the dummy was still moving fast, and MacGyver concentrated on keeping the string bow taut, knowing he had to get the timing right. A few moments later, the jacket reached the crooked tree and stopped. A burst of rounds out of a machine gun hit the stuffed dummy only the blink of an eye after that, tearing and ripping through it, sending parts of fabric and the insulating down feathers flying through the air.
MacGyver waited until the gunfire had died and quickly let go of the string afterward. With the tension gone, the dummy tilted away from the tree and then, since it had been hanging just a bit beyond the edge of the cliff, gravity´s pull sent it falling. MacGyver froze in his hide-out while the forest was silent for a beat or two.
"Got him!"
"Finally!"
Mac heard the triumphant shouts of the men.
"Gotta tell el jefe!"
A few seconds later, MacGyver noticed the tell-tale crackling of the walkie-talkie in the distance. Time to leave, he thought. I gotta be gone before their reinforcements arrive. If I´m lucky, they will believe I´m dead. If not… examining all this will keep them occupied for a while. Time, I gotta use to get some distance between me … and them. MacGyver tightened his grip on the crutch and then hurried downward, as silently as he could along the route he´d mentally mapped out earlier.
A little less than one hour had passed when Pete Thornton stopped for a brief pause. He had made good progress and had chosen a slightly different trail than he would have, had MacGyver still been with him. He had moved through more difficult terrain because it had provided better cover, had been extremely cautious, and had watched out for more of Moreno´s patrols. But he hadn´t seen anybody since MacGyver had lured the two men away from him.
The senior agent took a moment to slow his breath before he set down both backpacks and pulled his compass and the maps out of the top pocket of his pack. He confirmed his position with the help of the pictures and planned his route to the clearing where he would meet the helicopter… and hopefully also MacGyver. He was close to the bottom of the mountain´s slope already and would have to cross the valley floor soon – which increased his chances of being spotted. Unless he only walked through densely forested areas.
Pete sighed deeply. He couldn´t take a straight trail to their meeting point if he set his priority on protecting the intel he carried – which he´d promised to do to MacGyver. He shot the maps a final glance and then stuffed them back into his pack. A glimpse at his watch confirmed that, according to his plan, he was still on schedule.
The senior agent took a few sips out of his water bottle, then shouldered his backpack and picked up MacGyver´s. With a deep breath, he stood up and continued his way downward, now more focused on his way again than on how his rookie was faring. At least, he believed he´d finally managed to push the thoughts about the young man to the back of his mind.
A couple of minutes later though, while he was just easing himself down over a rocky step in the terrain, Pete heard distant gunfire. At first, Thornton froze momentarily at the sound, but then his head snapped around to where the sound had come from.
A few single shots… followed by a burst of machine gun fire after a few seconds.
Pete flinched as the crackles registered in his mind and the image of bullets tearing through MacGyver´s body appeared before his mental eye faster than he could prevent it. Like in slow motion, the senior agent let his feet find solid ground while his thoughts ran wild. Adrenaline rushing through him made him feel the abrupt urge to run over to where he´d heard the noise from, but he quickly stopped himself from doing so. The shots had been way too far in the distance – he wouldn´t be able to be there fast enough to help the young man anyway.
Pete subconsciously held his breath as he strove to quench the sudden wave of emotions welling up within. Once again these days, he had to deal with the possibility that MacGyver had been killed. But he had to keep acting professionally. He could hike over there, of course… but realistically, he didn´t have enough time to spare for a detour this long… if he wanted to meet the helicopter… if he wanted to keep his promise to the kid… and make sure the information he carried reached its destination.
Thornton slowly let out the breath he´d been holding and straightened himself as the realization dawned on him that he had to stick to the plan he´d formed only minutes ago. That currently, he couldn´t do anything to help the kid. That he just had to believe in MacGyver and his abilities. Pete reminded himself that he´d chosen and encouraged the young man to become one of their operatives for a reason… no, several reasons. Pete had to trust him that he´d come through… that he´d be there… at the clearing… in time.
Pete Thornton drew in a deep breath, tightened his hold on MacGyver´s backpack, and then resumed his way.
Moreno´s two henchmen had hurried to radio the news to their boss. They´d quickly related the situation and Javier Moreno had ordered them to hold their position until he would arrive together with the men he´d been scouring the mountain with. He´d received the message about MacGyver´s death with satisfaction.
Yesterday, after the man had blown up their workshop, their plane, and a good part of their goods, he had – on first impulse – been convinced MacGyver had been killed by the explosion, or the drop, or had been drowned in the rapids of the river. But during the afternoon, doubts had started nagging in Moreno´s mind and he´d sent out a few patrols to check along the ravine and to search for MacGyver´s body along the course of the river. Those doubts had mounted when his men had returned late in the evening and had told him, they hadn´t found any trace of MacGyver.
Today, since they hadn´t had any means to ship out their remaining weapons anymore, he´d sent out two teams to search the area – and had accompanied one of those teams himself. He still had no idea how the man had gotten rid of his binds and made it out of the shed they´d locked him in yesterday but it didn´t matter anymore. It seemed, that nuisance of a man was finally dead. Moreno had pushed the two men, he was with, to hurry but it had taken them some time to reach the location where the other team was waiting for them.
"What exactly happened?" Moreno demanded without preamble once they´d met the men.
"We followed a clattering noise at first." The man with the machine gun told his boss. "Like somebody slipping or stumbling on rocky ground and therefore dropping stones… and found this only a few steps from here."
He held out the bloodied fabric MacGyver had torn from his pants. Moreno took it and examined it for a couple of seconds.
"So he has been wounded yesterday," he stated with delight in his voice.
"Must have." The second man nodded his agreement. "Moments later we heard something rustling down there…" He pointed down the slope. "… and saw him trying to flee along the top of the rock face. We shot at him at once and got him when he had to stop because of that crooked tree. He fell down the cliff after we´d hit him."
Moreno watched his men silently for a beat. They seemed convinced they´d killed the man. He wouldn´t be until he´d laid eyes on MacGyver´s corpse.
"I want to see him," he declared. "Where is he?"
"He´s got to be at the bottom of the rock face." The first man said. "If the bullets haven´t killed him, the fall must have. That rock face is way too high to survive the drop."
Moreno pinned his man with a hard stare.
"That´s what we assumed yesterday as well," he growled. "He´s proven us wrong… Now, where is he?"
The two men who´d shot Mac swallowed dryly at the menacing tone of their boss and hurried to lead the way toward the upper edge of the cliff. It took them a couple of minutes to get there, and all five men grew cautious about where to set their feet as they neared the rock face. Moreno took point once he stepped beyond the last row of bushes and got a first good look at the scenery. He stopped and eyed the crooked tree growing right at the edge. He didn´t know what to make of it at first, but his doubts started mounting again. Something about all this felt wrong.
Quietly he took a few steps forward, right to the edge, and looked down. Moreno´s eyes scanned the foot of the rock face, but couldn´t find a body. He let his gaze wander also across the rocky wall and soon spotted something that had caught in some thicket growing in a crack about halfway down the cliff.
The remains of a torn, stuffed coat. With branches reaching out of it. But no indication of a human body.
Moreno drew in a deep breath as a sudden wave of anger surged through him.
"You fools!" he shouted. "He deceived you! … Both!" All his men shrunk back as Moreno whirled around and glared at them. "He used his jacket! … And you fell for it!"
The two men who´d been convinced they´d shot MacGyver were brave enough to step to the edge and look down themselves but retreated quickly once they´d seen the torn jacket hanging in the bush.
"But… it really looked as if…" one of them tried to explain, to apologize but was cut off sharply by Javier Moreno.
"Quiet!" he growled.
Moreno´s hand automatically flinched to the gun he kept at his belt. Normally, he´d punish his men for a failure like this… but right now, he couldn´t afford to. He needed all of them to search for the man who´d made fools out of them … once again.
"Where did the jacket first come from?" he ground out through clenched teeth.
All his thugs tensed up as they sensed how furious their boss was. They all knew that mistakes that serious were usually punished… with death.
"From back there." The same man who´d tried to apologize hurried to say with a gesture along the edge of the rock face. "Out of that thicket."
"Well, then go!" Moreno snapped at him. "He must have been close by! He must have left some traces! Find them! … Then I might reconsider throwing you down that cliff!"
His men instantly turned and headed toward and behind the indicated undergrowth and bushes. Moreno followed them closely. After only a couple of moments of searching, one of the goons spotted boot marks on the soft, still wet soil covering the rocky ground.
"There!" he exclaimed. "Footprints… and some kind of round imprint next to them."
Moreno was at his side only a second later, with his eyes glued to the ground. His left hand clenched around the bloodied piece of fabric it still held.
"If he got injured that badly…" Moreno stated slowly as he understood the implication of the round imprint. "… that he has to rely on some stick or branch for support, he won´t have gotten all too far in the meantime."
All his men raised their eyes to him, awaiting and expectant. After a moment, Moreno also raised his head and glared at them.
"What are you waiting for?" he growled. "Follow his tracks! Spread out! Find him! Now!"
At once, all his henchmen spurred into action, orienting themselves down the slope and looking out for further tracks MacGyver had left behind, but Moreno´s voice made them stop again, albeit only briefly.
"And if you see him…" their boss added low and warningly. "Don´t you shoot him… He´s mine to kill."
MacGyver concentrated hard on the terrain he had to cross. Since he was well aware that Moreno and his men would do their best to tail him as soon as they had discovered his little distraction, his focus was also set on leaving as few tracks as he possibly could for them to follow. He´d chosen rocky ground wherever he´d been able to, hoping they might lose his trail or at least wouldn´t catch up with him all too soon. At the same time, he knew he had to hurry.
His crutch allowed him to keep up a steady pace and to relieve his injured leg of a lot of the strain, even on the still moist and – at places – slippery ground. But his physical condition set some limits to him. His concentration on the ground before his feet wavered as a sudden wave of vertigo washed over him. MacGyver stopped abruptly, pressed his eyes shut, and drew in deep breaths while he waited for the dizziness to pass.
After a couple of seconds, he raised his head and forced his eyes open again. Relieved that the forest had stopped moving around him, Mac puffed out a breath. Without the warmth and protection of Pete´s jacket, he felt the cool wind brush uncomfortably over his feverish body. In the next moment, a shiver shook him. Once again, his body reminded him that despite his self-treatment, he was still in need of medical treatment.
Which I´ll get, once I´ve made it to the helicopter, he thought.
MacGyver let his gaze wander around his surroundings as he mentally prepared to continue his way. He also glanced upward, to where he´d come from, making sure he couldn´t see Moreno´s men following him before he moved on. Mac was quite sure he´d heard them in the far distance a few times while he´d hiked downward, but right now the woods behind him were quiet.
Several minutes later, the terrain in front of him caused MacGyver to stop once more. Only a few feet away from his shoes, the rocky ground dropped off almost vertically. He drew in a deep breath and held it as he cautiously stepped toward the edge. Again, his fear of heights awoke instantly at the mere sight. The rock face by far wasn´t as high as the one he´d let the jacket drop down, but still way too high for him to free-climb in his current condition.
Inwardly, he scolded himself for not remembering this natural barrier when he´d mentally planned his escape route. Now he had to find a way around it. A way that provided good cover. Quickly. Before his pursuers caught up with him.
Mac hurried to scan the rock face and the terrain to both sides of it with his eyes. The fastest way he spotted would take him partly back to where he´d come from… also toward where Moreno´s henchmen would be coming from… and then downward through narrow and steep terrain between two cliffs. Or he could turn to the opposite direction for a slightly safer way down with more cover next to the far end of the rock face… but he´d have to walk along the bigger part of the edge of it to reach that trail… with almost no cover.
So much for getting caught between a rock and a hard place… literally, he mused sarcastically.
MacGyver sighed deeply and gazed behind himself, upward the slope. After a few moments of noticing nothing in the forest, no sounds, and no movement at all, Mac made his decision. He nervously licked his dried-out lips and limped off toward the far side of the cliff. He had convinced himself that walking along the edge would take no more than two or three minutes… and with no thugs in sight… it shouldn´t be a big deal.
Unfortunately, he didn´t notice the man glancing in his direction out of the undergrowth only a minute later. One of Moreno´s henchmen did a sweep of the area and spotted MacGyver´s movement in the distance after mere seconds.
"Boss!" he hissed instantly. "Down there! Look!"
Javier Moreno was at his side with two quick steps. His eyes followed the gesture of his goon and recognized MacGyver´s lanky build at once. Without taking his eyes off the man that had devastated their base and made fools out of all of them, Moreno held out his hand to his men.
"The rifle. Now," he stated low.
The man who´d carried the sniper rifle immediately complied and handed it over. With a quick glance, Moreno checked if the rifle was loaded, flipped off the safety, and adjusted his stance. He pointed the rifle downward and aimed at Mac through the scope.
"MacGyver!" he yelled after a moment, as soon as he had a secure and stable aim. "Hold it right there!"
He saw Mac react to his shout only the blink of an eye later and grinned menacingly to himself. Then he pulled the trigger… repeated… and shot once more.
MacGyver froze involuntarily. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his blood ran cold in the same split second that he heard the call of his name from behind… and recognized the voice as Javier Moreno´s. It sounded quite distant, and Mac´s head whirled around automatically to determine where exactly the threatening shout had come from, and how imminent the danger was.
Half turning around, MacGyver spotted the arms dealer almost instantly. He was partly hidden by some thicket way above on the slope, and Mac was just about to feel some relief about the amount of lead he still had on his pursuers when he noticed, just the blink of an eye later, that Moreno was holding something.
A rifle. Equipped with a sniper´s scope. Aiming it at me. Oh, no.
His adrenaline level had already gone up once Moreno had called his name but now it flooded his body. And suddenly, all seemed to happen at once.
MacGyver´s survival instinct told him to flee, to duck, to hide, but before he could react, a shot rang out and something hit his crutch. The projectile shattered it just above waist-high, abruptly ripping his support away from under him. To avoid losing his balance, Mac´s wounded leg at once had to take a lot more of his weight, causing a fierce wave of pain to rush through it. MacGyver´s breath caught in his throat as he suppressed a gasp, and he automatically let go of the rest of his crutch as his hands flinched toward his thigh.
But before he´d had the time to regain at least some composure or even form a clear thought, MacGyver heard the familiar crack of another gunshot. Something hit the left side of his chest hard and threw him backward. Mac cried out with the red-hot agony tearing through his upper body. An agony that, since his time in Vietnam, he would recognize anytime and anywhere as getting shot. An agony that momentarily caused his knees to buckle and his legs to lose all their strength and their footing.
Being that close to the edge of the cliff, Mac´s feet slipped over it with the momentum the bullet had given him. On top of the panic about getting shot, MacGyver´s fear of heights caused his body to stiffen. He was unable to grab hold of anything, unable to catch himself. All of it happened way too fast for him to regain any bit of control over the situation. Before he had any chance to act against it, MacGyver sensed himself sliding and falling down the almost vertical rock face. Rendered powerless by pain and terror, he couldn´t avoid his body and head hitting the edge of some crack in the cliff hard… and he was out cold before he hadn´t even reached the bottom.