MacGyver wanted to leave the cave and find the missing journalist. He'd tried several times but found he was unable. He couldn't put any weight on his ankle, and Parbeen wasn't strong enough to help him get further than a chair.

The two sat together on his mat, Parbeen drawing pictures with the nubs of crayons she had left. They used all the paper for school lessons and other drawings. MacGyver had asked for more when he stopped to drop off food, more medical supplies, and a dress for Parbeen.

MacGyver still smiled, thinking how giddy she was to try on the new dress. Milad told her to go into the hall to change, telling her ladies don't change in front of men. That made her bounce even more. And then she was back in the room, showing off her new dress. It was the first time MacGyver had seen Milad smile and saw the gentle touch he had when he stroked her hair. He stayed long enough to braid her hair and have a bowl of food. Parbeen was a bundle of energy for the rest of the night – MacGyver didn't think he'd ever get her to calm down enough to sleep.

"What?"

Parbeen whispered, "Someone's coming."

MacGyver tried to get to the chair on his own. She got up and helped him. He sat down, watching the door. Parbeen moved around behind him, her hand holding tight to the back of his arm. Her other hand was on his shoulder, digging her finger tightly into his shoulder. He didn't ask her to stop since she was likely as scared as he was. Were they both about to be shot by a soldier investigating the abandoned temple?

They saw a shadow on the wall, and then a person in fatigues appeared. This person was taller and slenderer than Milad. Their dark eyes were the only things seen from behind the scarf wrapped around their head. They carried a satchel over their shoulder that sagged slightly under the weight of the contents.

"Are you MacGyver?" the person asked. The person sounded like a man with a cold.

He slowly nodded. The person removed their scarf, revealing that he was a she. She smiled, walking up to him. She held her hand out to him, and he took it, letting her shake his hand.

"I was told you're a friend of Thomas Jenkins."

MacGyver didn't confirm or deny that statement. She crouched down, going through her bag. She pulled out a small canvas bag and a file folder she handed him.

"He's dead. This is his belongings and the actual medical record and autopsy report." She looked into MacGyver's eyes. "He died in prison. It was reported as an accident, but… I work with the medical examiner. He was tortured to death. The examiner puts whatever he's told on the paper. But please don't think bad of him. He has a family to feed and protect. Anyway, here's the real autopsy report. We've been making accurate reports and hiding them. Maybe, someday, we'll be able to get them out and prove the crimes against humanity against the Taliban." She stood up again. "Milad told me you fell down a hill and off a cliff and broke your ankle."

"Yeah."

"You look it, too." She returned his smile. "I can't believe this right eye is even open as swollen as it is. Do you think there's any part of your body you didn't bruise or cut?"

"My left ear seems to be okay."

She laughed. "We have something to celebrate, then!"

He smiled some, but smiling too much made the bruises on his face hurt, so he kept that short.

"Well," the woman began, "Let me see if I can't help with your ankle." She leaned to the side, smiling at Parbeen. "Hi. I'm Elaheh," she said to her. "I need some warm water in a bowl and a clean rag. Do you think you could get those for me?"

Parbeen was off to do as she was asked.

"Remove your shirt," Elaheh instructed MacGyver.

Slowly, with her help, he managed to get his shirt off. She shook her head a little, staring at the pale skin of his torso that was now colored more in greens, dark purples, and dried blood. After dropping her bag by the chair, she leaned over and gently probed. MacGyver winced, grimaced, and pulled away, but she didn't stop. And he didn't ask her to, either.

"I can't see anything on the surface that says there's internal bleeding." She looked him in the eyes again. "Are you coughing up blood?"

"No."

"Dizziness?"

"Yeah, but my head…" He wasn't sure what else to say.

She examined his head. "Yeah. I see them. You have some bad concussions, and they've been bleeding quite a bit. Can you stand? Do you get dizzy or feel like your legs are unstable?"

"It hurts to stand. I haven't tried."

"I am sure, but are you too weak to do it?"

He shook his head a couple times.

"Alright. Let's hope I'm not missing anything internally. You should have a full-body CT. Or, at the very least, X-rays for your head and ankle."

"But we're in a cave," he pointed out.

"I know!" She offered a bright smile. "They should have more caves with CT scanners and X-ray machines, don't you think?"

He smiled. This woman had a fantastic bedside manner. She would have been a great doctor.

Parbeen came back with a bowl of steaming bowl and cloth.

"Thank you," Elaheh told her. "Be very gently and wash all the blood off."

Parbeen obeyed. Elaheh knelt on one knee and unlaced MacGyver's right boot. Being as careful as she could, she pulled it off. He still nearly danced in the chair from the agony. Once she had it off, she laid her hand on his thigh.

"Long, deep breaths. You must keep breathing, MacGyver. Breathe."

He nodded and listened to her voice, making his breathing follow the command. Once it was back to normal, she gently pulled his sock off the lump that was now his ankle. All three of them stared at the dark purple-green swollen body part. Elaheh looked up at him.

"You know I have to feel it, don't you?"

He grimaced. "No. You don't. It's broken."

She smiled. "I think you probably know it could be a nasty sprain and not broken. I need to know how I need to wrap this if I need to set any bones."

He let his head fall back, knowing she was right despite wishing she weren't. She laid a hand on his thigh again.

"Do you want some alcohol? I can see what I can find."

"No. A rag or stick."

"Parbeen, do you have another clean rag?"

He lifted his head, watching Parbeen run over to the makeshift shelves and return with one of her small shirts.

"That will work. Thank you," Elaheh told her.

She smiled at Elaheh, then returned to cleaning blood away. Elaheh handed him the shirt, which he folded into a straight, thick piece. MacGyver stared at it.

"Let me know when I can start."

Following several deep inhales and exhales, he reached out and laid his hand on Parbeen's shoulder. The child looked at him.

"I need you to go sit on your bed. What she has to do next will hurt me a lot, but she has to do it. Whatever you do, don't come over until she tells you it's okay. I'll need you to hold my hand then, okay?"

"Are you going to scream?" Parbeen asked him.

"Into the shirt, so we don't draw the attention of anyone outside."

Parbeen put the wash rag in the bowl and set it on the ground. She took the shirt from him, muttered something in Farsi, handed it back, and sat on her sleeping mat. Elaheh smiled when he looked at her.

"She prayed that the shirt would lessen your pain and keep you quiet, so the bad men don't find us."

He put the rag in his mouth, adjusted it a couple times, then wrapped his hands around the edges of the chair. He nodded to Elaheh.

MacGyver didn't hear a word as soon as she began to feel his ankle and set the body part. His ears began to ring from the pain. He bit down and screamed into the shirt. He dug his fingernails into the wooden chair, splinters flying from his vice grip. The cave was spinning. Light in the cave dimmed to almost dark, only to brighten to near blinding.

When he finally grasped what was happening, he realized Elaheh and Parbeen had moved him back to his sleeping mat. Parbeen was washing his face like she had done when they first met. But this time, she reflected on his fear and worry. MacGyver's eyes drooped. He felt a hand in his. Another hand took his other hand and rubbed his palm with a thumb.

"Like this," he heard Elaheh say.

Soon, Parbeen's little thumb was doing the same thing. Surprisingly, it helped his pain. His guess was Elaheh knew of a pressure point that would help.

"Good job, Parbeen. Are you back with us, MacGyver?"

MacGyver closed his eyes as he swallowed. "No," he whispered.

Elaheh chuckled quietly. "Good to know. Any funeral arrangements I need to know about?"

"He's going to die?" Parbeen squeaked.

"No. That was a joke. I was trying to make him comfortable with a little laughter."

"It almost worked, too," MacGyver lied. It hadn't come anywhere near working. His ankle throbbed with surges of pain.

"Your ankle is broken. While you were in so much pain, I set the bones I could feel were out of place and put a splinter on it. But as soon as you can get to a hospital to get some pins put in, they may have to re-break it to fix the broken bones."

"I hope you have an idea," MacGyver whispered. "I don't think walking to the nearest safe country is an option for me."

"I might. I'll have to see what I can arrange. In the meantime, I left some food and water bottles for you both. I may not see you again. But when I send someone, I'll give them a safe word. What should I tell them to say?"

"Dalton."

"Dalton?"

He nodded.

"Alright. Dalton. Do you need me to get a message to who sent you?"

"Mathilda Webber at the Phoenix Foundation in San Francisco, California. Tell her I'm alive but delayed. I'll contact her when I'm safe. Tell her the original package went to Detroit, but the new arrival will be two packages."

"Oh… Okay."

"She'll understand."

"I hope so. I left some pain medication in your shirt pocket. They're watching everything. It was all I could get. There isn't much, so take just enough to ease the pain."

He nodded.

"Do you speak any other languages?"

"Spanish and German."

"I speak German too!" And in German, she said, "The boy said you told him about me almost graduating before the Taliban arrived.

"Dah," MacGyver answered.

"You made an impression on him, but he's not going to leave with you. You know that I hope."

In German, he said, "I know, and I don't think he'd adjust in America after what he's been through. All we can do is focus on getting his sister safely out and in a home she can thrive."

"Asking a stranger to save his sister took bravery. If they ever find out what he's done, they'll kill him."

"I know."

Speaking in English again, she said, "Rest. Good-bye."

"Bye," he answered in English.

Parbeen walked up and sat beside him with her doll and broken horse. "What did she say in that other… Language?"

"Language is correct. Good job. Things for adult ears, not little ears like these." He reached up and gently tugged her ear.

Parbeen smiled, giggling a little.

"I need to sleep. Wake me when you're hungry, and I'll make food."

"Not if I make it first!"

He smiled a little at her. "True."

Parbeen started humming a song while she played. It lulled MacGyver to sleep.