Javier Moreno slowly lowered the rifle with a self-satisfied, yet dangerous grin after he´d watched MacGyver stumble and then drop over the edge of the cliff.
"That should do it." he declared after a moment as he turned back to his henchmen.
He returned the rifle to the man who´d been carrying it previously, who quickly flipped on the safety before flinging it over his shoulder.
"You hit him on his left side, boss." Another man acknowledged Moreno´s aim with a nod. "He´s dead."
Moreno glanced toward the cliff over his shoulder and then pinned his goon with a hard stare.
"I´d like to see that myself," he stated in a tone that left no room for argument. "Let´s go." With that, he turned and led his men further down the slope.
They hadn´t reached the top of the rock face yet and were just about to head sideways toward it when Moreno abruptly stopped. He gazed downward. The foot of the rock face was in clear sight from their location. As was the silhouette of a motionless body. Moreno held out one hand to his goons.
"Binoculars," he ordered curtly.
One of his men complied quickly and placed them in his open hand. Javier Moreno didn´t take his eyes off Mac´s form even for a split second as he grabbed the glasses and then raised them to his eyes. Silently, he observed for a minute or two.
He took in every detail of the man lying half on his back, half on his side, with one arm draped across his head, covering most of his pale face. Saw the bandages above and below his knee thanks to the torn pants. Spotted the large, dark red stain on the left side of Mac´s shirt as he lay there, unmoving. Only the soft wind tugged a little at his hair and the fabric of his shirt and pants.
None of Moreno´s goons dared to say a word while their boss was gazing down. Time seemed to stretch unbearably until Moreno lowered the binoculars and let out a deep breath.
"Finally… He won´t cause any more trouble." he assessed.
"Shall we go down, check closely, and get rid of the body?" one of the men who´d fallen for Mac´s distraction earlier asked eagerly, attempting to redeem himself. "Or put another bullet into his head? Just to be…"
"No." Moreno cut him off low without even turning to him. "We can´t afford to waste ammunition and we can´t afford to waste any more time. He´s cost us enough." He glanced at his watch. "I saw no signs that he´s still alive. We gotta return to our camp." He returned the binoculars to the man who´d handed them out and faced his men. "As for the body… bears, wolves, or whatever comes by will take care of it. There won´t be a lot of him left to find real soon… should whoever he´s been working for come looking for him," he added and then gestured up the mountain. "Now go. Let´s head back."
After a last, quick glance downward over his shoulder, finally convinced that he´d gotten rid of this nuisance of a man, although he inwardly credited the man for how remarkably long he´d held up, Moreno followed his thugs. Now he could return to taking care of restoring his business. At last.
Pete Thornton was startled to a halt abruptly by the sound of distant cracks. His thoughts ran berserk the moment the sound registered in his head. Gunfire. Again. Two single shots this time. From a different rifle. Pete assessed all of this automatically while he turned toward where the noise had come from. So MacGyver has survived their first attempt to shoot him… and he´s still keeping them busy. Pete let out a sigh. Hopefully, he´s survived this one as well.
Once more, the senior agent fought back the sudden urge to hurry off and help his rookie. He knew it would make even less sense this time. He still had no time to spare. Pete was even further away now since he´d taken a wide bend crossing the valley floor, and he was already halfway across it. All with the purpose to avoid getting discovered while he hiked toward the clearing because he had to keep the films safe until he got picked up by the helicopter. Thornton reminded himself that he´d promised to do so to the young man. MacGyver trusted him on this. As he still had to trust MacGyver to be able to do his job and come through – despite his battered condition.
Pete shot his watch a glance. He would easily be able to make it to the meeting point in time. But it eluded him how Mac would… had he been anywhere close to the gunshots Pete had heard a minute ago. He´d still have to cross the whole valley to reach the clearing. Even on a straight course, it seemed impossible regarding his wounded leg.
On the other hand… maybe Moreno´s goons had shot at some conjured-up diversion, MacGyver hadn´t been close to anymore. String, wire, a fishing pole, and a hunting knife. Pete kind of automatically recalled what the young man had taken along. It also eluded him how MacGyver had planned to distract Moreno´s goons with those items… or even defend himself.
An uncomfortable sense of foreboding settled in Pete Thornton´s stomach. Try how much he might, he couldn´t deny that he was worried about the kid. He was also worried he might have to return with the chopper three hours later, as they had agreed earlier, and was worried about what he might discover then. He was concerned MacGyver wouldn´t be able to hold up against the thugs all alone for that long.
Pete drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out in a long, quiet sigh, urging himself inwardly to hold on to his trust in the young man. Once again. Then he reoriented himself and resumed his way to the clearing.
A pounding headache was the first thing that greeted MacGyver when he slowly regained consciousness. The rustling of the wind in the leaves of trees and undergrowth followed along with the coolness it brought to his skin. A realization slowly dawned on him.
If I can still feel a headache… and the cold… I still gotta be alive, right? Moreno´s bullet hasn´t finished me off…
Mac subconsciously drew in a deep breath with his musings, but a sharp pain racing across his chest stopped him mid-way. He bit his lower lip to stifle a moan and at the same time noticed the awkward and unnatural position he was lying in.
The fall hasn´t killed me either…
A little relief eased up the inner tension that the sudden hurt had caused. Cautiously, with only little twitches of his fingers and toes, he tested if he could still sense and use his arms and legs, but froze as quickly again as the thought occurred to him that, at the moment, he knew nothing about his surroundings or the whereabouts of Javier Moreno and his men. Moving would give away that he wasn´t dead.
Abruptly, Mac forced himself to concentrate on the sounds that enveloped him; tried to hear if anyone was nearby, or make out any sign that someone was moving toward him. After a minute or two of intensely listening to the relative silence of the forest, MacGyver convinced himself that there was no one close to him and blinked his eyes open. They needed a moment to focus. He couldn´t see anyone either… at least not in the part of the woods that he could overlook while he still lay unmoving.
Seems I´m alone, Mac decided. Time to take the chance.
Slowly, gingerly, he lifted the arm draped across his head and moved it so he could feel for his hurting left side. He was sure the bullet had hit him and his hand found his shirt soaked wet and sticky. He discovered tears in both his shirts and followed them to his skin. MacGyver puffed out a relieved breath when his probing fingers didn´t sense a hole but a gash crossing his ribs. He raised his head a little to look at the mess and saw his skin, shirts, and hand crimson red with his blood. The tear in his skin wasn´t bleeding all too badly anymore and after a gaze around himself, Mac let his head drop back to the ground.
It just grazed me… the bloodstain and me ending up unconscious due to the fall must have convinced Moreno that he has finally managed to kill me, MacGyver thought. That´s probably why they didn´t follow me… it could also be why I´m still alive…
He tried to stretch a little, to find a more comfortable position, but the agony from all his older bruises and injuries returned and mixed with new ones, and Mac went still once more. To top it all off, a shiver reminded him of the fever he was running.
Guess, I´d better get moving if I wanna stay alive… gotta meet Pete and that helicopter… out here I won´t find a doctor that makes house calls…
Cautiously, MacGyver rolled over to his side and pushed himself up to a sitting position with a low groan. He let a wave of dizziness pass, reoriented himself, and glanced at his watch. His fall had taken him almost to the valley floor. If he took a straight route to the clearing and hurried… the odds of making it until 1800 weren´t good… but he´d agreed with Pete that he´d return with the chopper three hours later.
Mac drew in a deep breath and moaned with the fiery pain blazing through his wounded leg as he gingerly got to his feet. He quickly fought back the doubt if his leg would carry him this far and walked off, every now and then using a tree to steady his staggering steps.
MacGyver had gotten beyond the rough terrain at the foot of the rock face and was relieved he only had to hike across the valley floor now when it dawned on him that it would get more difficult than he had thought. His physical condition was more of a hindrance than he´d expected. He´d taken another hit to his head during the fall, the drop had also awoken some of his earlier bruises, his injured leg was barely carrying him without the support of his crutch, and the blood loss from the bullet graze continued to weaken him. Constant vertigo caused forest and ground to seemingly move around him.
His strength was slowly running out, MacGyver realized as he leaned against a tree for a few moments, shivering with fever and fighting to gather some of his remaining energy. He took deep, steadying breaths, while his hand covered the bullet wound protectively, and rested his head against the trunk.
I´m gonna have to cross a creek real soon.
The thought popped up abruptly in his foggy mind and he subconsciously licked his chapped lips. Drinking some water would help. Mac raised his head with this newly found goal, strove to focus his eyes, and pushed himself off the tree.
A small while later, the creek came into sight. It carries more water than it did a few days ago, Mac noticed. Probably due to the storm last night. But it´s still shallow enough to securely cross it. He stumbled toward the river´s edge and wearily dropped to his knees with a groan. His wounded leg protested wildly, so he shifted his weight to the other side and sat down so he could straighten it out. He puffed out a breath and bent forward to the water.
An icy cold hit his skin while he rinsed the blood off his hands before he cupped them and drank some of the water. The cool water soothed his parched mouth and throat but also caused him to shudder once it reached his stomach. MacGyver fought back the sudden discomfort, knowing his body direly needed the fluid due to fever and exertion, and drank some more.
He then sat back and allowed himself a break while he examined the gash across his chest. It was still weeping a little and wasn´t going to stop anytime soon since he had no means to cover it and had to stay on the move. He still had to reach that clearing. Mac glanced at his watch and then raised his eyes to the opposite side of the creek.
He probably wouldn´t make it until 6 p.m. He´d accepted that fact by now. But he could make it until 9 p.m. He wasn´t going to further disappoint Pete Thornton by not showing up. Even if his body was slowly failing him, he somehow had to find the energy to keep walking. Giving up was not an option.
With a deep sigh, MacGyver pushed himself off the ground and, with some effort, got to his feet again. He swayed a little but staggered forward into the water. Mac gasped as the cold water seeped into his boots that had only just dried up. He tried to mentally push against the sensation and suppress the shivers that instantly ran through his body and pressed on. The water ran up to his knees in the middle of the stream and Mac had to work hard to keep his footing with the strong current pulling on him. He was panting heavily with the strain by the time he´d reached the other edge of the river.
He stopped briefly, drew in a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, and gladly noticed that the icy water had numbed part of his leg. The pain radiating through it had significantly lessened. Determined to use even the slightest bit of advantage he´d get, MacGyver straightened himself, scanned the area for the most suitable way, and then limped off toward the clearing.
MacGyver´s relief was short-lived though. He´d faced a not all-too-high, but rocky slope soon after he´d crossed the river and his soaked boots hadn´t made climbing it any easier. The extra weight on his feet, the wetness, and the cold made each of his steps even more difficult than they would have already been due to his weakened condition.
Mac held on to a tree after he´d reached the top of the slope and took a break. He closed his eyes to fight back some vertigo and noticed at the same time that the throbbing had returned to his leg with almost full force. So much for small advantages, he thought wearily. I should have known it wasn´t gonna last long… but I gotta keep moving… it´s my best chance to keep my circulation going… my best chance to survive.
Mac raised his head, forced his eyes open knowing that they wouldn´t focus properly anymore, and pushed himself off the tree. The forest he was walking through grew relatively open and allowed the sun´s rays to filter through to the ground every here and there. MacGyver appreciated the bit of warmth it added to the air. It was late afternoon by now and he was also thankful that wind and sun had mostly dried up the soil around here. Not having to be careful about the slippery ground was one thing less he had to worry about. His fuzzy brain wasn´t able to hold on to a clear thought for long anyway.
Several minutes later, MacGyver came aware that he´d been staggering on only by muscle memory, not really paying attention to his surroundings anymore. The realization alarmed some remaining survival mode inside him and he stopped to reorient himself. He couldn´t afford to lose his way. Not in his current situation. Mac drew in a deep breath, mentally willing the agony throughout his body to subside, and stepped forward to where he believed the clearing to be. He had to press on.
Only a couple of steps later though, his thorough exhaustion finally got the better of him. He stopped coughing and doubled over with the hurting it caused. The ground suddenly began to rock dizzily below his feet; he felt his heartbeat thudding in his ears; another shiver shook him, and his legs couldn´t support him anymore. MacGyver collapsed to his hands and knees with a pained gasp and fought to push himself up again, but his strength was spent.
Three hours later…
His own words echoed in his head as his vision blurred and his arms gave up on him as well.
Alright. I´ll be there.
Pete´s assurance also returned to his mind just before his body went slack on the ground and everything was swallowed up by the darkness and silence of unconsciousness.
Pete Thornton arrived early at the clearing. He stopped at a little distance from the tree line and warily scanned the area with his eyes. When all seemed quiet and no threat was imminent, he relaxed a bit and glanced at his watch.
20 minutes to go… and so far, no sign of MacGyver, Pete mentally noted with a sigh. But if I were him, I´d find myself some hiding spot to rest and wait. Me, on the other hand, I´d better use the time I got left before the helicopter arrives to perform a perimeter check… make sure everything´s safe… might even find the kid while doing so.
Pete readjusted the backpack on his shoulders and tightened his grip on MacGyver´s pack before he puffed out a breath. He kept some distance to the clearing while he carefully made his way through thicket and trees. As silently as he could, the senior agent rounded the clearing and was satisfied to find none of Javier Moreno´s men.
After all, they´d chosen this meeting point because it was quite far off from the arms smuggler´s camp. Pete was relieved that they still didn´t consider a place that distant worth observing… also meaning that MacGyver had managed to keep them off Pete´s tail and hopefully had as well managed to get them off his own again.
Pete had just completed his check with only a couple of minutes to go until 6 p.m. when he heard the distant, low, flapping sound of a helicopter´s rotor. Instinctively, he ducked low and sneaked forward to the clearing´s edge. He couldn´t afford to be seen before the chopper was here – there was always the possibility that he had missed one of the bad guys. Hiding behind a large tree and listening to the helicopter closing in, Pete kept gazing around the open space. He spotted nothing… no movement that gave away that anyone but himself was there.
Several moments later, the rotor´s downstream reached the clearing, ruffling trees, bushes and grass. The helicopter hovered above the clearing for a few seconds while Pete´s inner tension rose as he waited if anyone else would step out of the woods. But nothing happened. None of Moreno´s henchmen turned up to shoot at the chopper. Neither could he see MacGyver emerging from the trees anywhere. Pete´s heart sank with the realization.
If I get delayed, just return with the chopper to the same spot three hours later.
MacGyver´s words echoed in Thornton´s head as he got up, hurried onto the clearing, and raised one arm, waving to the helicopter´s crew. The soldier sitting in the open back door of the Huey noticed him at once and signaled to the pilot. Pete ducked his head to shield his face from blown-up dust and stones as the pilot lowered the helicopter and ran toward it as soon as its skids touched the ground.
The soldier pushed himself off the door´s edge with an MP in his hands, instantly concentrating on their surroundings, ready to defeat Pete and the chopper against whatever threat may arise. He greeted Pete with a nod once he arrived at the Huey. Another soldier greeted him from the inside and reached out to help Pete as he raised Mac´s backpack. Together, they shoved it to the back of the chopper before Pete climbed inside and shrugged off his own.
"Good to see you again, Sir." The co-pilot turned around to him. "Seems you found his stuff but didn´t find your rookie."
"As a matter of fact, I did, Captain." Pete faced the young man in the front. "But we had to separate during the last part of our way down the mountain."
He noticed that the soldier had already taken his place at the edge of the door again. Everyone was preparing for the helicopter to take off.
"Give him a few more minutes, will you?" Pete asked the co-pilot. "He might be a little late."
The co-pilot and pilot both nodded and returned their eyes to the tree line, alert for any movement that might signal someone being there. Pete was just about to turn back to the open door when the soldier that had stayed in the back of the chopper addressed him.
"He might be late, Sir?" he repeated. "Are you worried he might have gotten injured?"
Pete´s head snapped around to the man whose badges and insignia labeled him as an officer, but also as a doctor. The medical officer the Air Force had promised to send along for their pick-up flight, just in case, Pete noticed. He sighed.
"He´s already been wounded yesterday, doctor," Pete answered with a serious face. "Before I found him… and he got injured again while he made sure I could get away unharmed and unseen from the smuggler´s camp with the evidence."
"That bad, it might slow him down?" The doctor tried to clarify.
"Yes." Pete´s expression turned even darker as the harrowing memory of MacGyver cauterizing his leg wounds popped up in his head. "It would. But he said, he´d try to make it… and if he didn´t, we agreed I´d be here again in three hours."
The doctor nodded, drew back a little from Pete, sensing his inner tension, and turned to look out of the window of the closed door on the opposite side of the helicopter. The senior agent skidded to the still-open door and scanned the direction, MacGyver had to come from, with his eyes. His worries mounted. The dreaded sense of foreboding returned to his stomach and worsened.
Since the rotor´s downstream caused a lot of disturbances in the trees and undergrowth along the clearing´s edge, it was quite hard to spot anything else. All five men kept watching out silently… but no one came out of the forest. The tension inside the Huey rose with every minute passing.
"We gotta leave, Sir." The pilot suddenly called over his shoulder. "The longer we stay on the ground, the more dangerous it gets."
Thornton drew in a deep breath. The pilot had a point. If Moreno´s men had noticed the helicopter pass through the valley and land… they had an easy target. On the ground, they were sitting ducks. But he wasn´t willing or ready to give up on his rookie yet.
"Alright." Pete nodded and moved behind the pilot´s seat. He almost instantly sensed the chopper lift off the ground. "But before we head back to the base…" Pete continued. "Do a sweep of the area between here and the huge rock face at two o´clock."
That cliff was where he suspected the last gunshots had sounded from. Maybe they could find MacGyver. Both pilots turned around to him surprised by his request. The helicopter stood still in the air above the clearing.
"Sir, my orders are to take you back as soon as we´ve picked you up." The pilot protested. "We´ve already stayed too long. Flying closer to that mountain could…"
"I´m aware of the risks." Pete cut him off sharply. "But I also know there´s a wounded man down there who probably needs our help."
"You said, you´d promised him we´d return in three hours." The pilot argued on. "That´ll be no problem if I carry out my order to…"
"I am modifying your orders, Major." Pete interrupted the officer again, emphasizing the rank of the pilot this time. "Have you got a problem with that?"
He used his command tone although he knew it was quite a gamble. According to military insignia, he´d outrank all four soldiers in this helicopter. He´d made it to the rank of Colonel before he´d left the military. But that was his problem. He´d left. He wasn´t in their chain of command anymore. Pete knew those pilots didn´t have to take any orders from him but did they know? For a few seconds, the pilot held Thornton´s intense and serious stare but then he gave in.
"No, Sir." He directed his focus back to his controls and the rock face in the distance. "I´m going low and slow so we can watch out for your man."
"Thanks, Major." Pete slowly let out the breath he hadn´t realized he´d been holding and returned to the open door at once. He was grateful for the forest not growing as dense in this part of the valley. He and the men could see down to the ground for a good part of the time as the helicopter passed over the trees. But the knot in his stomach grew tighter and heavier with every minute passing. Something had gone terribly wrong… he just knew.
If the kid has gotten killed during his attempt to distract Moreno´s men, I´m endangering this mission for nothing, the senior agent thought. If he´s chosen to take his time and be at the clearing at 2100, and gone hiding and resting somewhere, I´m also putting all at risk should we be spotted and attacked… a military helicopter is kind of hard to overlook, isn´t it? … On the other hand… if his condition has worsened for whatever reason, and he can´t make it on his own anymore… we´ve got to do everything we can to help him…
Pete sighed deeply as a creek running through the valley came into sight several minutes later. If he is down there somewhere, MacGyver has to hear the chopper flying through the valley. Why doesn´t he somehow signal where to find him?
Pete felt his hopes sink the longer they searched for the rookie. But then he pulled himself together and squared his shoulders. MacGyver isn´t one to give up easily… or at all, Pete added. I won´t either. I owe this young man as much.
They had made it almost to the small river when Pete´s eyes suddenly caught on something familiar on the ground at a little distance beside the helicopter. A lanky build he´d come to know so well by now, torn pants, and a dark shirt. A wave of relief rushed through him.
"Over there!" Pete called over his shoulder toward the pilot. "At four o´clock!"
The pilot immediately turned the chopper to the direction Pete had indicated and slowed down once he´d also spotted the figure on the ground. But Pete Thornton´s relief about finding MacGyver morphed into serious concern the closer they got. The rotor´s downstream was ruffling trees and bushes, as well as the clothes and hair of the young man, but Mac didn´t react to the wind or noise at all. He was sprawled out on his front, unmoving.
"Oh no…" Pete muttered under his breath as he observed MacGyver for a couple of seconds. His blood ran cold. Then he turned to the pilot.
"I gotta get to him!" he called. "Fast!"
"There´s not enough room to land." The pilot shook his head. "I can´t take her down here, Sir."
"Then find the closest place where you can!" Pete snapped back. "Now!"
His focus returned to MacGyver once the chopper climbed a bit higher and moved off to a small clearing at a little distance only a moment later. His inner tension rose almost unbearably when Mac got out of his sight again. Pete shifted his position so would be able to get out of the Huey as fast as possible. He turned to the armed soldier beside him.
"You´ll guard the helicopter once it´s on the ground." He ordered.
Then he looked over his shoulder at the doctor.
"You´re coming with me. I´m afraid, he´ll need your help."
Pete didn´t pay attention to the medic getting his case ready as the chopper started its descent. His mind went berserk with considering the possible meanings of what he´d discovered. MacGyver lying completely still… Dead? Or just unconscious? Seriously wounded? Or just thoroughly exhausted? Pete puffed out a sigh and forced himself to focus on the route he had to take to get to the young man as quickly as possible. He couldn´t afford to lose his nerves right now. For MacGyver´s sake.
He was off the helicopter and running toward MacGyver´s position as soon as its skids had touched the ground.
A somehow familiar, loud flapping noise made it through the thick darkness that engulfed MacGyver´s mind. His brain needed a couple of seconds to focus on the sound and his thoughts needed even more. Then he felt gusts of wind pulling on his hair and his clothes. The feverish haze lifted only slowly in his worn-out mind. But then a memory popped up.
The helicopter… he had to meet a helicopter… at some clearing… to get out of these woods… All of sudden, his brain matched the flapping sound to the rotors of a helicopter. The realization that this chopper had to be really close sent a rush of adrenaline into Mac´s bloodstream and awakened him even further. But then he noticed that the sound was fading… as if it was moving away.
Alarm grew in him at once and made his body tense up. Yet at the same very moment, the agony returned to most parts of his body as did the thorough exhaustion that still weighed him down. MacGyver groaned low but forced his eyes to open and brought his hands under himself.
He couldn´t recall later on how he`d made it to his feet, since his foggy mind was solely focused on the sound of the helicopter. It seemed to have landed at a little distance and the only thought Mac could hold on to was the knowledge, the urge that he had to get to it. Some panic and despair rose in him with the realization that he probably wouldn´t reach it in time before it took off again, that he might not be able to make it. In his seriously weakened state, he wasn´t so sure anymore if he´d be able to hang on until it would return three hours later.
He had to catch himself every few steps with the help of a tree as he staggered on and his vision blurred with the ache still pounding in his head. He fell to his knees with a pained gasp after only a few minutes but immediately fought himself back up and stumbled on. Several steps later though, despite his desperation pressing him to carry on, his knees buckled, the soil below his feet and the forest around him tilted uncontrollably, and he collapsed to the ground again.
He wasn´t sure if he´d heard someone call his name in that same split second because his head was only filled with the sound of the rotors and his own blood rushing in his ears. For a couple of moments, he lay still on his front, battling to stay conscious, striving to gather the last of his energy reserves. Giving up was still not an option.
Then MacGyver tried to push himself up again. That was when strong hands grabbed on to his upper arms, hindering him, holding him in place.