Frog's Secret
MacGyver stooped to retrieve Frog's food bowl, noting that there was still a good deal of kibble left over for the second day in a row.
"What's the matter, boy? Decided to go on a diet?"
Frog looked at him mournfully before bringing his back leg around to furiously scratch his neck, something else he had been doing a lot more of recently. Come to think of it, the dog hadn't been as active as usual either, but Mac had chalked it up to age and busy days with the kids at Challengers.
"Is that collar bothering you again?" Mac asked, stooping once again to loosen it a notch before clipping on the leash and heading to the car.
Upon arriving at the Challengers Club, Frog headed straight for the corner where his plush dog bed awaited him. MacGyver readied a bowl of food and one of water, but by the time he put them on the floor next to the bed, Frog was already asleep, snoring softly…for him. Mac shook his head, but he couldn't shake the concern that had been growing in the back of his mind. He walked into his office to find Cynthia already working away on the computer.
"Hey, Cynthia. You know anything about dogs?"
Cynthia looked up. "I never had a dog," she shrugged. "I've always been more of a cat person. Why?"
"Frog's been acting weird lately and I thought you might have an idea why."
"Sorry," Cynthia apologized. "But I've noticed it too. He doesn't get as anxious for his walks as he used to. Maybe he's just getting old."
"Yeah, maybe," MacGyver mumbled.
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The day passed quickly and soon the center was filling up with teenagers ready to either blow off some steam or get started on their homework. Mac hardly noticed when Joanna arrived for her daily tutoring sessions, but when he did notice, he couldn't take his eyes off her. They really needed to make a point to spend some quality time together. He watched as she commandeered a table before going over to the corner to greet Frog. She crouched down, ruffling his ears. Then she started fiddling with his collar.
"We need to tighten this up before your head slips out and you decide to take off," she was telling the dog as MacGyver approached from behind.
"What are you doing?" he asked, more harshly than he had intended to given her startled reaction.
"I'm adjusting his collar," she said, craning her neck to look up at him. "Someone keeps loosening it and I think it's irritating his neck. See?"
MacGyver bent down to see the spot Jo was gently massaging with her fingertips. He reached out to feel for himself. Their fingers touched briefly, but long enough for a spark of electricity to arc between them.
"There's a lump there," Mac frowned.
Joanna nodded in agreement as she gently separated the short hair of the canine's coat. "The skin around the area looks red, too." Her eyes were full of concern as they met his.
MacGyver stood up and jammed his hand through his hair. Something was definitely wrong with his dog.
"I think you should probably take him to the vet just to be on the safe side," Joanna offered, rising to stand next to him.
Mac groaned. "He doesn't have a vet," he admitted. "He's never needed one before."
"Well, I think he needs one now," Jo observed, looking down at the listless animal. "There's an emergency clinic not far from here that should be able to see him right away."
"I'll let Cynthia know we're leaving," Mac said as Joanna went to get Frog's leash.
It didn't take long to drive to the clinic and soon they were seated on hard plastic chairs in an antiseptic waiting room, Frog sitting drowsily at their feet. MacGyver suddenly realized he had never even asked Jo if she wanted to come along. He simply assumed she'd come and she never objected. When the receptionist called Frog's name, they both rose and coaxed the canine into an even more antiseptic exam room. Thankfully it didn't take long for the doctor to see them.
"And what seems to be the problem today?" the vet asked in a kind voice. He was middle-aged with thin gray hair and wearing wire rimmed glasses.
"Frog hasn't been eating much the last few days and he doesn't have as much energy as normal," MacGyver replied. "This afternoon we noticed a red bump on his neck and thought we should have it checked out."
The doctor nodded and frowned as he reviewed the paperwork Mac had struggled to fill out when they first arrived.
"You don't seem to have much information about our little friend here," the vet observed. "How old is he?"
"I'm really not sure," Mac winced, feeling like a terribly inadequate parent. The doctor cocked a brow.
"Well how long have you had him?"
"He's been living with me for not quite a year, but I've known him for about nine," Mac replied.
"Where did he live before?"
"Out in Los Angeles with a friend."
"I see. And where did your friend get him?"
"From another friend," MacGyver muttered, knowing how odd this must sound.
The vet removed his glasses, his eyes boring into Mac's. "And where did that friend get him?" His tone indicating his patience was wearing thin.
"I don't really know," Mac shrugged.
The doctor scrubbed his face with his hand before settling his glasses back on the bridge of his nose.
"Well, then let me have a look and we'll go from there."
The vet performed a cursory exam before he removed Frog's collar and gingerly examined the area Mac and Joanna indicated.
"It could be a cyst or tumor, or something as simple as an infected insect bite. I'd need to run a scan to be sure. Do you have time to stick around?"
"Sure," MacGyver replied as Jo quickly nodded.
They waited in silence for the doctor to return with Frog and hopefully the results of the scan. The word 'tumor' echoed ominously through Mac's brain. Joanna must have sensed his concern as she gently put her hand on his knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. Perhaps she was having the same thoughts. When MacGyver thought he couldn't wait a second longer the door to the exam room opened and the vet walked in with Frog in his arms.
"What did you find?" Mac asked anxiously.
The man set Frog down on the table before pulling up a wheeled stool and sitting down himself.
"I don't know what to make of it," he replied baldly. "I started with a set of X-rays and there appears to be a small piece of metal imbedded right below the skin."
"Like shrapnel?"
"I couldn't tell. I'd have to remove it to find out for sure."
"Can that be done tonight?" Jo asked.
The doctor shrugged. "It's a simple procedure if you don't mind waiting."
"We're good," Mac assured him.
Relegated once again to the uncomfortable waiting room, Mac and Joanna sat silently next to each other, each lost in their own thoughts. After almost thirty minutes, the veterinarian beckoned them, not back to the exam room, but to the lab instead.
"Mr. MacGyver," he began sternly, "Are you sure you don't want to tell me where this animal came from?"
MacGyver's muscles tensed. "If I knew of Frog's origins I would have put that on the paperwork. As I said earlier, I don't know where my friend got him."
"Is there a problem, sir?" Joanna asked before Mac could continue.
The doctor's shoulders slouched as if in defeat. "Look, I don't know who you are or where your dog came from, but the piece of metal we removed from his neck appears to be a microchip."
"What?" the couple gasped in unison.
"Take a look for yourselves," the vet directed them toward a microscope. "As you can see, it appears to be corroding which is causing Frog some discomfort. I doubt that anything harmful has entered his bloodstream, but to be on the safe side I'm prescribing a round of antibiotics."
"Is it one of those microchips their putting in dogs in case they get lost?" Joanna asked as Mac continued to examine the specimen.
"No," the vet answered confidently. "Those chips are quite small and implanted by injection. This chip is significantly larger and had to have been surgically implanted at some point."
MacGyver now looked up and turned to face the doctor, questions churning faster than he could find the words to ask them.
"Also," the man continued, "This chip is quite primitive. It looks to be at least ten years old."
"Any idea where it came from or what's on it?" Mac asked.
"Look, I'm just a retired vet working part-time to put the kids through college, not James Bond. I've never seen anything like this before. I should probably report it, but I don't even know who to report it to!"
MacGyver shared the man's mounting frustration and felt sorry for him. Perhaps full disclosure was in order.
"Sir, I used to work for the Phoenix Foundation in Los Angeles. That's how I met Frog. A Bulgarian defector was living in L.A. under the Foundation's protection. Someone got her Frog for companionship. Unfortunately, she witnessed a serious crime and had to change identities which meant giving up Frog." Here he turned and looked at Joanna. "That's when Frank and the Colton's adopted Frog. He stayed with them until last July when Frank brought him to live with me."
"That's quite a story, son," the vet sighed.
"With your permission," Mac continued, "I'd like to take the chip and turn it over to Phoenix. Perhaps their labs can read it and figure out what's going on."
"Since the chip was found in your dog, it's technically your property. And since I have no precedence on how to proceed, I believe your suggestion sounds like the best course of action."
"Thank you, doctor."
"But be sure to give Frog his full round of antibiotics. You can pick them up at the front desk on the way out. And keep his collar off as much as possible until the skin irritation subsides." The two men shook hands and minutes later Frog was released into Mac's and Joanna's care.
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"What is it now, MacGyver?!" Pete snarled into the phone.
"How did you know it was me?"
"Who else calls me in the middle of the night? I suppose you have a favor to ask."
Mac grimaced and pinched the bridge of his nose. He glanced at Joanna snuggled up with Frog on his couch, both sound asleep. It had taken the two of them, the better part of twenty minutes, and umpteen pieces of liverwurst to get Frog to swallow his medicine. One pill down, nine to go.
"You still got any strings you can pull at Phoenix?" MacGyver asked his friend.
"Maybe," Pete hesitated. "Exactly what kind of 'strings' are we talking about?"
"I'd rather not say anything over the phone. I'll come down to your place in the morning." Mac hung up the phone before Pete could respond…or object.
Early the next morning, MacGyver gently ran the back of his index finger down Joanna's sleep-flushed cheek. She awoke and looked up at him with a disoriented gaze.
"You fell asleep on my couch last night and I didn't have the heart to wake you," he explained before she could ask.
"My stiff neck and sore back thank you for that," she replied wryly as she pushed off the blanket he had covered her with. At some point during the night, Frog had removed himself to his favorite spot under the coffee table and continued to snore.
"Boy, you really aren't a morning person," Mac observed.
"It took you this long to figure that out?" came the snappy retort.
"How about I make us some breakfast and then take you home so you can get ready for work?"
"Breakfast sounds good," she answered sincerely. "But there's no need to take me home. I have a change of clothes upstairs if you don't mind me using your shower."
"No, go right ahead," Mac replied, perplexed. Since when did she keep clothes at his place? And why hadn't he noticed. He looked around warily, wondering what else he might have missed. So much for his keen powers of observation. He'd have to take inventory when he got back.
They discussed their plans for the day over MacGyver's self-proclaimed world famous pancakes. He told Joanna about his hope to have Phoenix check out the microchip and she told him that she planned to spend the day at Challengers.
"Isn't Hernandez gonna be upset with you taking off?"
"I told him it was a family emergency," she shrugged. "After all, you and Frog are like family to me anyway. Besides, we left my car there yesterday and now with you going to Chicago I can be there to help Cynthia and take care of Frog."
"I'm not sure how long I'll be gone," he warned her.
"Don't worry about it. Just try to get some answers, okay?"
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Once MacGyver was on his way to Chicago, Joanna told Cynthia what all they had discovered at the vet's office the previous evening before heading to the nearest pet supply store to buy a harness for Frog. Hopefully it would be less irritating than his collar and allow the small incision where the chip had been removed to heal faster.
Before Jo knew it, the afterschool crowd of boys and girls of all ages began to descend upon the club. Working in tandem with Cynthia, Jo made sure all the members were engaged in a positive activities and that they were all following the Challengers code of conduct. She was in the middle of a tutoring session when Frog ambled over to her with an expectant look.
"Raul!" she called and the young teen quickly appeared.
"I think Frog needs to go outside. Wanna take him?"
Raul's face brightened and she had her answer. Together they struggled to strap the pudgy bull dog into his harness and soon boy and beast were on their way.
Joanna was once again engrossed in a lesson when Raul bounded into the room, a huffing Frog trying to keep up.
"Ms. Jo! Ms. Jo! You'll never guess what happened!"
"Well, then you better just tell me," she replied good-naturedly.
"A man just tried to buy Frog from me! He said he'd give me a thousand dollars for him!"
"What?!" Joanna shot up so quickly that the chair she had been sitting on tumbled backwards. Realizing the attention they had garnered, she steered Raul and Frog toward Mac's office.
"Tell me exactly what happened," she instructed Raul once they were settled behind closed doors.
"I was walkin' Frog around the block like I do every day when this big car came up behind us and an old white guy got out and said he'd give me a thousand dollars if I gave him Frog."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him he ain't my dog so I couldn't sell him."
"And the old guy was okay with that?" Jo asked skeptically.
"I guess," the boy shrugged. "His face started to turn red but then he mumbled something about different ways to kill cats and got in the car and left. I ran straight back here in case he tried to follow us."
"More than one way to skin a cat," Joanna absently corrected the idiom before giving the teen her full attention.
"You did good, Raul," she assured him. "Can you tell me what the car looked like?"
"It was big and black," he shrugged.
"What about the man? You said he was old?"
"Yeah. Older than MacGyver but not as old as my grandpa."
"Can you remember anything else?" Jo prodded.
Raul shook his head. "I was kinda scared, ya know?"
Jo smiled softly. "I know. Now I think I hear some homework calling your name."
When Raul had left the office, Joanna sat back in the big desk chair and tried to make sense of everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. She didn't think that finding the microchip and having someone try to take Frog was a coincidence. And she knew Mac didn't believe in coincidences, either. She thought about calling him, but he couldn't do anything but worry while he was still in Chicago. Yet her gut was telling her she had to get Frog away from Challengers. Things could have gone very differently for Raul with the man in the big black car. So as not to worry Cynthia, she claimed she had a headache and quickly took Frog back to Mac's place.
"Okay, buddy, time for your pill," she announced after divesting the dog of his leash and harness.
She opened the refrigerator in search of the liverwurst when her gaze landed on a clear plastic container of raw chicken livers.
"Really, dude?!" she looked down at Frog, her eyebrows raised. "Mac must really be worried about your appetite if he's making your favorite treat." The canine met her gaze, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth while his face was a mask of doggy innocence.
Not finding any liverwurst, she reached for a brick of tofu.
"Sorry, but this is gonna have to do for tonight."
After fifteen minutes of wrestling with the stout little dog, Joanna finally got him to swallow the piece of tofu in which she had concealed his antibiotic. To her dismay, the ordeal left her light pink blouse disheveled and wet with slobber. She sighed and climbed the winding staircase hoping Mac had a clean hockey jersey. Doing laundry was not one of his strong suits, she had discovered. She was washing out her blouse in the bathroom sink when she heard glass smash and Frog begin to bark frantically.
"That better have not been anything important," she scolded as she hurried to dry her hands. But by the time she made it down the staircase, all was quiet and the window that made up Mac's front door lay in shards at her feet with no dog in sight.
Her heartbeat quickened and she let out an involuntary scream as the ringing phone startled her.
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MacGyver arrived at the Thornton's suburban Chicago home by late morning. He stopped just long enough to collect Pete and head into the city where a scientist was waiting for them at the Phoenix Foundation.
"So when are you going to tell me what this is all about?" Pete huffed as they sat in the ever-present downtown traffic jam.
"Just hold your horses, Pete," Mac soothed. "I want to know what we're dealing with first."
"And that's supposed to make me feel better?!" his friend shot back.
MacGyver grinned.
Having arrived at their destination, Mac offered Pete his elbow as the two men navigated the maze of corridors that led to the electronics and computer lab. They were met by a nervous, wiry man with thinning hair who introduced himself as Doctor Downer. After settling a harrumphing Pete on a stool in a nearby corner, MacGyver handed over the small container holding the microchip.
As the good doctor prepared the chip for microscopic examination, Mac wandered around the lab which was much more advanced than anything he had encountered during his time with the Foundation. Curious, he picked up and examined various computer components and electronic gizmos. This could easily be his favorite place second only to the chemistry lab.
"Mr. MacGyver, may I please ask that you keep your hands to yourself?" Dr. Downer censured. "Perhaps you would like to wait over by Mr. Thornton?"
Mac held up his hands in a show of surrender, eventually approaching the corner where Pete not-so-patiently waited.
"Where did you get this?" Dr. Downer demanded after several long minutes of intense scrutiny.
"Why? What is it?" Mac asked as he quickly came to stand beside the scientist.
"First I must know how you came to be in possession of it," the doctor demanded.
Mac jammed his fingers through his hair and sighed. "A veterinarian removed it from Frog's neck yesterday."
"What?!" Pete exclaimed.
"It was in a frog?" the doctor asked.
"Frog is the name of my dog," MacGyver explained.
"Why would you name your dog 'Frog'?" Dr. Downer asked distastefully.
Mac struggled for patience. "He was already named that when I got him. Now could you please tell us about the chip?"
Downer looked furtively around the lab. "I think it best if we discuss this in my office. Come."
Leaning back in his plush leather desk chair, Downer removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Back in the early eighties, a soviet defector by the name of Pleshenkov, came to work for Phoenix. He was a brilliant, cutting edge computer scientist. Unfortunately, he used the Foundation's funding and resources to further his own personal agenda. This was discovered in 1985 and he was let go."
"Now that you mention it, I seem to recall hearing something to that effect over at the DXS," Pete offered.
"Yes, well, by that time, Pleshenkov had secured his own funding sources and continued his work elsewhere until his lab was shut down due to unethical practices."
"That's all very interesting," MacGyver replied. "But what does that have to do with the chip we found in Frog."
"Doctor Pleshenkov's work consisted of encrypting microchips with government information and implanting them in domestic animals as a means of getting them out of the country. The chip you gave me definitely appears to be his handiwork which would make your dog one of his test subjects that was still in Pleshenkov's laboratory at the time it closed.
Mac's heart sank at the thought of Frog being caged up and experimented on.
"So what does all that mean?" he asked.
"Up until a few weeks ago, nothing," Downer replied. "Lately there have been murmurings in the scientific underground that Pleshenkov is looking to fund a new project and there are still some former Soviet entities that will pay good money to obtain these microchips."
"But how can he possibly expect to find them?" Pete blustered. "The animals he used could be anywhere in the country by now!"
"Indeed," the scientist concurred. "However, Pleshenkov had the foresight to outfit the chips with a tracking device."
"But tracking systems back then had a very limited range," MacGyver pointed out. "And the chip is already corroding."
Dr. Downer shook his head slowly. "The chip is not severely damaged and the tracking technique Pleshenkov used was a very sophisticated global positioning unit."
"What does that mean?" Pete asked impatiently.
The pieces were starting to fall into place for MacGyver. "It's a system that uses existing satellites to transmit information. Given the proper equipment, Pleshenkov could theoretically track down the chips anywhere in the world," he explained to Pete before turning his attention back to Downer.
"Is it safe to assume that Pleshenkov may be coming after Frog?" Mac asked Downer.
"If he found the signal before the chip was removed, I'm afraid your little friend may be in a great deal of danger," the scientist nodded sadly.
"May I use your phone?" MacGyver asked as he reached across the desk for the receiver.
"Be my guest," Downer muttered, clearly annoyed by this invasion of his personal space.
Mac quickly dialed the number for Challengers and asked to speak with Joanna as soon as Cynthia answered the phone.
"I'm afraid she's not here, MacGyver. She said she had a headache and was going back to your place with Frog."
Mac immediately disconnected the call and dialed his own number. The phone rang several times, each ring causing his concern to ratchet up a notch. Finally Joanna answered.
"Hey, it's me. I have some important news about the—"
But Jo cut him off. "Frog's been kidnapped!" she exclaimed breathlessly.
Mac felt as if he had just been punched in the gut.
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, but Frog—"
"Go over to Charlie's and call the police. Stay with him until they arrive. I'm on my way."
XXXXX
Darkness had fallen by the time MacGyver pulled into his driveway to find Charlie and Joanna sitting silently on his stoop, his front door already boarded up. They stood up as he approached, Jo finding her way into his open arms.
"The cops aren't taking this seriously," she told him, her words muffled as her head lay against his chest. "They're calling it an attempted break-in and since I didn't actually see anyone take Frog, they think he may have just run off on his own, but he didn't. Mac, someone took him!"
"I know," MacGyver soothed, rubbing gentle circles on her back to comfort her.
"Let's go inside and figure this out, okay?" he urged. He tucked Joanna against his side as they headed indoors. Charlie offered the couple a sad smile as he ambled back to his side of the duplex.
"Now tell me what happened," Mac prompted as soon as he and Jo were settled next to each other on his couch.
"Shouldn't we be looking for Frog?" she protested.
"We will," he assured her, "But he could be anywhere. I need to know what you know to help us come up with a plan."
Joanna told him about Raul being offered money for Frog and how she heard the glass break before discovering the dog was missing.
MacGyver regarded her thoughtfully. "It doesn't seem like they want to hurt anyone since both you and Raul are safe."
"But what about Frog? Will they hurt him?" she questioned.
Mac shook his head and told her what he had learned about the microchip. "I'm assuming it was Pleshenkov who took him, and as soon as he discovers the chip is missing, he'll need to keep Frog for leverage."
"You mean ransom," Jo replied dully.
"Yeah. But first things first," Mac said as he went to his desk and fired up his computer. "You call Pete and tell him everything. With what we know about Pleshenkov and the chip, it shouldn't be too hard to get the government involved. In the meantime, I'm gonna see if we can track down our little buddy."
"How?"
"When Frog started bounty hunting with the Colton's, I rigged up a homing device and hid it in his collar in case…well, just in case. It isn't nearly as sophisticated as the chip, but if he's within range the computer program I used should still be able to locate him."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Joanna lower her head and wrap her arms around her waist.
"Hey, it's gonna be okay," he tried to convince her.
"You won't be able to find Frog," she said, her voice quavering with unshed tears. "I took his collar off so it wouldn't irritate his neck. He's not wearing your homing device."
MacGyver sighed silently and swallowed his disappointment. He couldn't say or do anything to make Joanna feel worse than she already did. He rose from his chair and took her in his arms again.
"It's no big deal," he responded, trying to sound confident. "We'll find a way to get him back," he promised, hoping it was true.
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Frog sniffed the threadbare carpet. Cats. Not only had he been dognapped, but now he was being held hostage in an abandoned house that had been formerly occupied by cats. After being unceremoniously tossed in the back seat of the big black sedan, the speed and bumpiness of the ride caused him to be thrown to the floor boards numerous times so he had been unable to look out the window and determine the route or destination. The ride, thankfully, had not been long, so he knew he was still relatively close to his master. Thoughts of MacGyver automatically made him think of Joanna. He was glad she had been upstairs when his abductor broke in, and he hoped she wasn't too worried about him. He liked Joanna very much. He especially enjoyed cuddling with her on the couch. But then again, so did his master. Bringing his thoughts back to the present, he was thankful, as well as more than a bit surprised, that he hadn't been chained up or, heaven forbid, locked in a cage. Instead, he had been left free to roam the dilapidated building, but he had stayed close to the man who took him, hoping to get some information he could use to escape.
Upon arriving at the old house, another man had been waiting for them. The man was tall, and broad, and didn't seem too intelligent. He was obviously the muscle of the operation. Frog was quite familiar with his kind given the number of assignments he had accompanied Frank and Jesse on back in L.A. during his bounty hunting days. It was the older man that really got under his fur. The man's scent was vaguely familiar. Frog never forgot a scent. And his accent had an odd way of grating on Frog's sensitive ear drums. This man seemed to be the key to his predicament. He slowly wandered to the far corner of the room and sat down, careful to keep his eyes blank and his mouth drooling. Working with the Coltons had also taught him that the dumber you looked, the less attention people paid to you. Frog desperately hoped that would be the case tonight.
The two men continued to speak in soft tones across the room for a long time. Oh, how he wished MacGyver were here! His master had a knack for formulating plans and getting himself out of tight spaces. Frog had even helped him a few times. All he had to do was follow Mac's directions. Push a lever, bring him a bottle. Granted, he may not have accomplished those tasks as expediently as expected, but he always got the job done. Unfortunately, Mac wasn't here to tell him what to do. He'd have to figure that out all by himself. The men's voices became louder and Frog's ears perked up.
"He's worthless without the chip," Muscle said. "I say we shoot him and bury him in the backyard."
"No, no, no!" the man with the accent scolded. "Don't you see, he is much more important now. We must keep him alive and well in order to use him to bargain with!"
This time, Frog was able to pair the man's voice with his scent. The man who had taken him was none other than Dr. Pleshenkov, that crazy scientist who had put a microchip in his neck when he was barely out of puppyhood. He was supposed to be shipped out of the States the following week, but Pleshenkov's lab got shut down and Frog had been sent to the relatively friendly confines of an animal shelter before the Phoenix Foundation adopted him to be a companion for a pretty Bulgarian defector.
"Aw, c'mon doc!" Muscle protested. "You really think that MacGyver dude is gonna trade us that chip for a fat, wrinkly, bow-legged bull dog?"
Ouch! Must the dimwit be so demeaning?!
"Oh, he'll give us the chip all right," Pleshenkov said as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun. "Then, with the chip back in my possession, both man and beast will be expendable."
"What about the woman and the boy?" Muscle asked.
"The woman didn't see anything, and no one will believe the boy. They are to be left alone. Unless, of course, they become a problem."
Oh, no! Frog's mind began to spin. He had to escape and warn MacGyver, but how?! Suddenly, his big brown eyes focused on the finely tailored trousers and Italian leather shoes Muscle was wearing. It was payback time for the ugly words he had said earlier. Frog got up from the corner and went to sit in front of the man. He barked once.
"Shut up!" the man snarled.
He barked again, more urgently, before standing up, raising his left hind leg, and relieving himself on the man's leg and foot.
"Why you little-!" Muscle growled as he booted Frog away from him with his now not-so-fine leather shoe.
"Don't hurt him!" Pleshenkov commanded. "Go put him in the backyard."
"But boss…"
"Go!"
Soon Frog was following Muscle through the house and out the rickety door to the yard.
"And stay out!" the large man yelled, as if Frog really wanted to return to the house anyway.
Alone in the grassy space, Frog surveyed his options for escape which turned out to be few to none. The entire yard was enclosed by a tall, solid wood privacy fence. The gate was no help, as the latch was placed almost too high for most humans to reach. Frog dropped to his haunches, thoroughly discouraged. He was sure MacGyver could have found a way out. He needed to think like his master. Perhaps there was more here than met the eye. Frog got up and methodically began to inspect the edge of the fence. He was about half way around when his paw landed on a section of depressed ground. He stopped and quickly began to sniff the dead grass. He smelled rabbit and soon saw a piece of sunken ground under the fence board. He would need a much bigger whole if he was to crawl under the fence, but this appeared to be his only option. He promised himself he would go on a diet if he managed to get himself out of this horrid situation. With his front paws, he began scratching away at the dirt, the hole getting slightly bigger with each effort. It seemed as though he had been digging for hours before the opening was large enough for him to wriggle his pudgy body through. The roughhewn edges of the wooden boards scraped his back, but he didn't care. His hind legs had just cleared the fence line when he heard the door open and Muscle swearing at the top of his lungs when he realized Frog had escaped.
Run! He had to get away from Muscle and Pleshenkov before worrying about finding his way home. After scampering through several yards and alleyways, he allowed himself to rest. Panting heavily, he took stock of his surroundings. Even in the dark, the houses appeared familiar, and down the road a ways was a building he definitely recognized. Challengers! Thankfully, he often hung his head out the passenger window as Mac drove them to work every day. As soon as he got to Challengers, he could easily find his way home!
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It seemed as though MacGyver had barely disconnected from his call to Pete when a number of various government agents descended upon his apartment like a swarm of angry bees. Before he knew it, his phone was wired for a trace and he was being briefed on how to handle the ransom call, never mind that he used to be the one doing the briefing, but that seemed like a lifetime ago now. Joanna stood in a quiet corner chewing on her lip. He longed to comfort her, but he had a mission to complete.
"May I have the chip, Mr. MacGyver?" a man in a dark suit asked.
"That might be a problem," Mac replied.
"Why is that, sir?"
"Well, ya see, I don't have it."
"We were led to believe you were in possession of the microchip to use in a ransom exchange. Where is it?"
"With Pete and Dr. Downer at the Phoenix lab in Chicago," Mac told him evenly. "But I find it hard to believe you'd risk Pleshenkov getting his hands on the actual chip."
The agent ran his fingers through his close-cropped hair in an uncharacteristic sign of frustration before quickly huddling with his fellow investigators. Knowing he could resolve at least one problem, MacGyver went to his computer and unscrewed the top of the processing unit. Choosing a tool from his Swiss Army knife, he carefully disconnected a microchip of about the same size and appearance as the one found in Frog. He then approached the huddle of secret agents.
"Maybe you guys could use this instead?" he offered.
They all looked at him in disbelief before one agent silently reached out, took the chip, and slipped it into a small glass container before turning back to his comrades.
"You're welcome," Mac said wryly before leaving them to their whispered conversation.
Once the agents had a plan firmly solidified, the only thing to do was wait for the ransom call. MacGyver's telephone had been set up on the coffee table in front of the couch where he and Joanna now sat. She rubbed her temples, sighed, and looked at her watch for the fifth time in five minutes.
"Relax," Mac said softly, resting his hand on her thigh. "These things take time. Everything's gonna be okay."
"How can you possibly know that?" she glared, turning her head so her eyes bored into his.
"Well, I can't. Not really. But I've been through this before and things have a way of working out."
She turned her eyes back to the silent telephone and Mac wished he could have been more reassuring, but the simple truth was that while many hostage negotiations ended peacefully, others had a way of going south quickly. They could only hope for the best but be prepared for the worst. He was just about to go get a glass of milk when Jo reached out and grabbed his forearm.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered.
"Hear what?" he asked, not quite sure why he was whispering as well.
"I thought I heard something on your patio?"
The couple looked toward the patio doors. The vertical blinds had been closed tight early on to avoid any prying eyes that may be hiding in the night.
"You're tired and upset. You probably just imagined it," he told her gently.
A scratching sound on the glass door caused the couple to start.
"Don't tell me I imagined that!" Jo challenged as her gaze swung to meet his.
"C'mon," he said, grabbing her hand and slowly getting up from the couch.
After telling an agent what they had heard, lights were dimmed and men with guns drawn took up strategic positions throughout the room as others prepared to open the glass doors. When the appropriate signal was given, one of the agents quickly slid open the door and aimed his gun at nothing but air. It was Mac who was the first one to look down and notice their guest.
"Frog! Buddy! Where've you been and how did you get here?" He moved toward the dog only to be scolded by a nearby agent.
"Stay back! It could be a trap!"
Frog trotted into the living room seemingly oblivious of the agents and plopped down at Mac's feet before giving a soft 'woof' and then shaking his head, sending slobber flying. Joanna immediately fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around the canine's neck before frowning in concern when she noticed the scratches on his back from the wooden fence he had slipped under. When the agents had finished scouring the area for any threats, they carefully examined Frog for any trace evidence that might reveal where he had been taken, but they found nothing. Suddenly, the phone blared to life garnering everyone's attention.
MacGyver stared at the phone in disbelief. "That can't possibly be Pleshenkov offering a trade. He has to know Frog has escaped by now."
"But he has no way of knowing the dog is here," an agent replied from behind. "Answer the call as we discussed earlier."
MacGyver picked up the phone. "Hello?" he said in a low, controlled voice.
"Ah, good evening, Mr. MacGyver. I'm assuming you know who this is."
"Dr. Pleshenkov."
"Indeed! I must presume this call is being traced, so I will say this only once. Meet me in Wilmot Park at midnight. Come to the southeast corner by the monument. Bring the chip and come alone."
Before Mac could respond, the call was disconnected. He looked at the technician sitting nearby. He shook his head. "The call wasn't long enough, we couldn't get a location."
"So we go through with the meeting as planned, right?" MacGyver asked, knowing his answer would be confirmed.
"But why?" Joanna broke in. "Frog is safe and we have the chip. Pleshenkov just told you where he's gonna be. Can't you just capture him without this ruse?"
Mac turned toward her and put his hands solidly on her shoulders, willing her to understand. "If Pleshenkov even thinks he smells a set-up, he'll go back underground and we may lose him forever."
He could see Joanna's eye's soften slightly. "Think about what he's done to Frog. We need to get him into custody," he said gently.
Joanna had not yet responded when a Kevlar vest was shoved into MacGyver's hands.
"You need to wear this, sir," an agent told him.
Mac regarded the protective gear as if he was holding a snake. His brow furrowed and his lip curled slightly. He had been through and survived a whole lot more with a whole lot less.
As if reading his thoughts, Joanna whispered, "Please Mac, wear it for me?"
"All right," he replied, softly stroking her cheek with the back of his forefinger before strapping the vest around him and fervently hoping that Pleshenkov would aim for his chest and not his head.
In the midst of the controlled chaos as the plan was set in motion, no one saw Frog nose open the sliding glass patio door and scurry out into the night.
XXXXX
MacGyver sat in the back of a dark, nondescript van as government agents wired him with a microphone connected to a tape recorded. This needed to be a solid bust. Several government agents and law officers had been dispatched throughout the park, hiding behind trees or crouching amongst bushes.
Thankfully, two officers had remained at his apartment to watch over Jo and Frog until this ordeal was over leaving him to concentrate on what he had to do. At precisely two minutes to midnight Mac slid out the side door of the van and walked determinedly toward the monument Pleshenkov had indicated. As the clock struck twelve, the scientist emerged from the shadows behind the cement statue, a taller, burlier man close behind.
"I thought the instructions were to come alone," Mac called across the space that separated them. He stood casually, his feet slightly apart and his hands jammed in the front pockets of his jeans.
"Those instructions only apply to you, Mr. MacGyver," the scientist replied coolly. "I trust you followed them?"
"Where's my dog?" Mac asked, evading the previous question.
"First things first, Mr. MacGyver. Hand over the microchip."
"Now, you don't really think I'd have it on me, do ya?"
Pleshenkov took a deep breath as his cheeks grew pink.
"I do not have the time nor the patience for games, Mr. MacGyver. Tell me where the chip is!"
"Be glad to. Just as soon as you give me my dog back." Mac knew he was pushing it, but he wanted to rattle the scheming scientist before the feds moved in.
"I'm afraid that is no longer an option, Mr. MacGyver." Pleshenkov moved his hand in a silent signal to the man behind him who now stepped forward, a revolver aimed at Mac's heart. "Tell me where the chip is!"
Mac regarded the men thoughtfully. "The way I see it, this is a no-win situation for one of us. If I keep silent, you don't get your chip. If I tell you where it is, you kill me. What do you say we all sit down and try to come up with a compromise?"
"A compromise?!" Pleshekov roared, his face redder than a tomato. "I found the chip once, I'll find it again!" He then turned to his accomplice. "Shoot him!" he ordered.
Out of the corner of his eye, MacGyver saw Frog running straight towards Pleshenkov as fast as his little bow legs could carry him, growling all the way before latching on to the man's pant leg with his teeth and tugging hard. At that same time the other man fired the gun and Mac felt as if he had been hit in the chest by a wrecking ball, the force causing him to fall backward to the ground knocking the air out of his lungs. He heard myriad voices demanding Pleshenkov and his man to 'freeze' and 'drop the gun' before his world went black.
When MacGyver awoke, he was still lying on the ground. He tilted his head up just enough to make out the black forms of concerned government agents standing around him, Frog slobbering his cheek with happy doggy kisses, and Joanna kneeling next to him, her deep liquid brown eyes full of fear as she stroked his hair and pleaded with him to be okay. He tried to push himself up but was met with a resisting force on his shoulder which turned out to be Jo's hand.
"Stay down. The paramedics are on the way," she told him. Her voice thick with unshed tears.
"I'm fine. I just had the wind knocked out of me," he insisted, managing to force himself upright this time. He scowled when he looked down at his chest. "Aw, man! That goon ruined my favorite shirt," he groaned, fingering the fabric that had been frayed by the bullet.
No longer able to hide her emotions, Joanna let her tears fall as she flung her arms around Mac's neck.
"I was so scared when I saw you go down," she sobbed. "You know they make bullets that can penetrate those vests."
"Thanks for reminding me," Mac responded sourly even as he wrapped his strong arms around her as she cried. "What are you and Frog doing here anyway? You should have stayed where it was safe."
Joanna leaned back on her heels, wiping away her tears.
"After you left, I noticed Frog was gone. I figured he was following you."
"So you decided to follow him," Mac finished for her.
"Yeah," she replied sheepishly.
"I'm sorry, sir, we tried to stop her," one of the officers assigned to protect her apologized. "The best we could do was convince her to come with us instead of alone."
MacGyver smiled at the young man. "No apology necessary. Joanna can be quite, um, persuasive when she wants to be."
XXXXX
The dawn of a new day saw MacGyver, Joanna, and Frog cuddled up on his couch recounting the events of the previous night. After the crime scene had been cleared, Mac had finally relented and went to the hospital to make sure the impact of the bullet had been harmless, which it was. They returned to his townhouse just in time to receive a phone call from Pete informing them that Dr. Downer had been able to decode some of the information on the microchip and it was now safely in the hands of the United States government, where it would remain. Mac relayed to his friend that Pleshenkov and his crony had been arrested and would be out of commission for a very long time. Joanna lay against his chest and he felt her sigh as the first rays of daylight pierced the window.
"You okay?" he asked.
"Yeah," she replied, absently fondling Frog's silky ear. "It's just hard to believe that Frog had that thing in his neck all these years."
"It's hard to believe what people will do to animals in the name of science," Mac grumbled.
"I know," Jo agreed sadly. "Do you think the other animals Pleshenkov used are okay?"
"I'd like to think so," he answered pensively.
"Well, I'm just glad Frog has you," she declared. "You're a really good dog dad."
MacGyver laughed. "Thanks…I think! And for the record, you make a pretty good dog mom yourself."
Her only response was to smile and nestle closer to his chest. He savored the intimacy of the moment as his odd little family continued to watch the sun crawl over the horizon.