Deja Vu

"Hello? Hello?!"

MacGyver slammed the telephone receiver back down into the cradle.

"Whoa! What did that phone ever do to you?" Joanna quipped from his office doorway.

He sent a steely gaze her way.

"I've been getting prank calls all day," he growled. "As soon as I answer they hang up."

Jo shrugged. "It's the start of summer vacation and kids are bored. Didn't you ever do stuff like that when you were young?"

Mac's eyes softened. "Yeah, I suppose I did some dumb things in my time. I guess I'm just cranky today."

"That time of the month, huh?" Joanna asked, glancing at the pile of invoices on his desk.

"Yeah. I really wasn't thinking when I told Cynthia to take the day off." He jammed his splayed fingers through his hair in frustration.

"Why don't you sign some blank checks and take off. I can handle the bills."

MacGyver looked at her skeptically.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked. A mix of hurt and indignation in her voice.

"Of course I trust you. I just don't want to overwork you right off the bat."

Jo's light laugh warmed him as she came to stand behind his chair and massage his shoulders.

"Wow, you really are tense," she observed, kneading his taut muscles.

MacGyver could feel the warmth of her hands through the thin fabric of his shirt and willed himself to relax as her thumbs began to caress the back of his neck. Man, he loved this woman!

"I'll go home on one condition," he told her.

"And what's that?"

He reached up and grabbed her forearms, gently yanking her upper body over the back of his chair.

"That you come with me," he grinned mischievously.

Jo pulled free of his light grasp and walked around to the front of his desk.

"That would defeat the entire purpose and you'd just come back to this stuff tomorrow. Go home or go skating or...something! Just get out of here and relax!"

"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a mock salute, giving her a peck on the tip of her nose as he passed her on his way out the door.

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After two hours of working up a sweat on the ice followed by a long, hot shower, MacGyver still felt a niggle of soul-deep anxiety. His sixth sense, which he had so often relied on in the past, was clearly trying to tell him something, something he was unable to comprehend. Dressed in grey sweatpants and a black tank top, he now rifled through his refrigerator looking for something to eat. Not particularly hungry, he grabbed an apple from the crisper, took a bite, and pushed the door closed with his hip. No sooner had he swallowed than the telephone rang. He tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a groan. Tempted to let the answering machine take it, he took another bite of fruit before deciding to answer the call after all. It could be something or someone important...like Joanna.

"Hello?" he mumbled around a mouthful of sweet, juicy apple.

He was greeted with an eerie silence before an all-too-familiar maniacal laugh came over the line, causing him to swallow hard. The voice was raspy and somewhat mechanical, but he would recognize that evil tone anywhere.

"No! No way! You're dead!" he yelled, before clicking off the call and sending the cordless handset flying across the room.

He dropped his apple on the counter and crumpled into the nearest chair, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

"It's not him. It's not him," Mac muttered over and over, trying to convince himself he hadn't heard who he thought he heard.

MacGyver had no idea how long he sat there, repeating his mantra, but when he next looked up darkness had settled over the apartment. Both ashamed and angry for letting a dead man control his emotions, he made his way to the couch where he sprawled out and eventually fell into a fitful slumber.

Much to his dismay, Mac awoke several times during the night, his spine tingling with the sensation that someone was watching him. Each time, he took a turn around his apartment to ensure all windows and doors were locked and no one was lurking in the shadows. Even Frog slept undisturbed. He was completely alone.

The following morning, a bleary-eyed MacGyver entered his office to find Joanna leaning lazily against his desk before slowly walking towards him, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, and gracing him with a soft yet sensual kiss.

"Wow! What did I do to deserve that?!" he asked, surprised and a bit stimulated by her assertiveness.

"As if you didn't know," she chided with a knowing smile.

"With a welcome like that I'd do it a lot more, but honestly, what are you talking about?"

Jo frowned and took a step back. "The flowers you sent to my house yesterday."

"What flowers?"

"The long-stemmed red roses you had delivered," she replied.

"As much as I'd like to take the credit, I didn't send you roses, or anything else for that matter. Wasn't there a card?"

"Yeah," she replied, her mood seriously soured. "All it said was 'Much love, M'."

"'M'? Not my name?"

"No," Jo responded, now seeming to slip into confusion. "But who else could it be?"

"It's not him," Mac whispered to himself. "It's. Not. Him."

"Not who?" Joanna's voice was far away.

Mac shook his head to resettle his thoughts and bring himself back to the present.

"A ghost from my past. Remember me telling you about Murdoc?"

"That crazy assassin that kept trying to kill you? Yeah, I remember. But he's been dead for over a year, Mac. You watched him die. You went to the morgue to make sure he was dead. It can't be him," she reasoned.

"You don't know Murdoc," he muttered.

"C'mon Mac, think about this logically," Joanna urged. "Maybe one of your friends is just playing a joke on you. Maybe it's just Jack and his weird sense of humor."

MacGyver shook his head adamantly. "No. None of my friends would ever joke about Murdoc," he told her firmly.

"What about your enemies? I'm sure you have some."

"Yeah...but the phone calls, the flowers...this has 'Murdoc' written all over it," Mac sighed as he lowered himself into the chair behind his desk.

He was interrupted by a soft tap on the door jamb where Cynthia stood holding a large brown envelope.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I thought you'd want to see this." She raised the package she held a bit higher. "It was in with the morning mail, but there's no postmark or return address, just your name on the front."

"Thanks Cynthia," Jo replied as she took the envelope and passed it to MacGyver as the other woman headed back to her office.

Dread and curiosity warred with each other as Mac stared at the parcel now in his hands. With Joanna watching, he tore it open and tipped it sideways, allowing several photographs to slide out. He studied the grainy images one by one before passing them to Jo, the blood draining from his face. There were pictures of him and her, both alone and together, pictures of their houses, of Challengers, of the club members playing outside.

"He's been stalking us for weeks," Joanna whispered incredulously.

"That does it," MacGyver announced as he stood up and began putting the photos back into the envelope. "This is definitely Murdoc and I gotta get out of here."

"Why?! Where are you going?!" Jo demanded.

"I'm not sure yet. I just have to get away from you and Challengers. It's me he wants. I'm not gonna put anybody else in danger."

"Then I'm coming with you," she declared.

Mac rounded on her, his voice rising. "Haven't you heard a word I said? This is Murdoc we're dealing with. I need to do this alone!"

"Isn't there anyone you can call? Tell them what's happening? Maybe they can help."

"Everyone is convinced he's dead. They'll think I'm the lunatic!"

"What about Pete?" she asked quietly.

MacGyver took a deep breath before blowing it out. "It would be a stretch, even for him. I'll be in touch." He kissed her tenderly on the forehead before turning to leave.

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Mac pulled his empty duffle bag out from underneath the bed, set it on the mattress, and began haphazardly filling it with clothes and other necessities. He had decided to head up to Harry's cabin. That was probably where Murdoc anticipated he would go. He still hadn't formed a plan about what to do when he finally came face-to-face with his archenemy. He'd deal with that when the time came. Right now he had to draw the danger away from everything he held dear. His phone rang and he gave it a venomous glare. This time he would let the machine get it. He heard the beep and then a familiar voice come over the speaker.

"MacGyver, it's Pete. If you're there, pick up."

Mac scrubbed his face with his hand. He really didn't want to talk to anybody, but if things went south with Murdoc, this could be the last conversation he would have with his friend.

"Hey, Pete."

"Joanna called and told me what's happening. Are you out of your mind?!"

"Maybe."

"You and I both know Murdoc is dead, so before you go running off, take a minute to think things through. Who else might be behind this?"

"I don't know Pete. I just don't know," Mac replied despondently before ending the call.

Calmer now, MacGyver forced his mind to go into field ops mode. His history with Murdoc had made their rivalry personal and allowed emotion to get in the way of logic. He wasn't going to let that happen again. Sitting at his kitchen table, he took a closer look at the pictures that had been delivered to Challengers, studying them objectively. Something wasn't right. The quality was off. Not quite blurry, but not crystal clear either. Photography was part of the assassin's M.O., but it was also one of his passions. Like everything else he did, the images he produced were neat and clean. And then there was the content. Specifically, the photo of the kids at Challengers. Though most always categorized as a cold-blooded killer, Murdoc drew the line at harming children. While concentrating on the pictures, the phone call from the night before began to replay itself in MacGyver's head. It, too, had been 'off'. The raspiness of the voice and that mechanical sound, almost like a...tape recorder!

Mac grabbed the telephone and quickly dialed Pete's number.

"It's not Murdoc," he announced as soon as his call was answered.

"See? I told you!" Pete proclaimed.

"But if it's not Murdoc, it's someone who wants me to think it is."

Mac considered this for a moment.

"Pete, what's the status of HIT?"

"Well, as you know, we were able to shut them down using the information against them that Murdoc gave to you several years ago, but they somehow resurfaced though not to their initial extent. Shortly after you left Phoenix they went dormant. The Foundation, DXS, and other government agencies all monitored them for activity but by the time I retired it seemed they had shut down for good."

"Can you verify that and get back to me?"

"Sure," Pete promised. "You gonna be sticking around for a while?"

"Yeah." Mac hung up. All he could do for now was wait.

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From the second MacGyver turned his back on her Joanna began to worry. Where would he go? What would he do? He had let his emotions get the better of him and he wasn't thinking straight. She wanted to help him, but how? If she went to him, she could possibly be putting herself in danger as well as be a distraction for him. If she stayed away, he was on his own. Out there alone with a murderer after him. Hopefully Pete had been able to speak with him and help him see reason. Nervous energy had her re-organizing Mac's office when Raul came to her.

"Ms. Jo, there's a man here to see you."

"Thanks Raul. I'll be out in a minute. Where's Ms. Cynthia?"

"She's upstairs cleaning the dorm rooms. Do you want me to get her?"

"No, let's see what this guy wants first. If I can't help him we'll call for her."

It didn't take Joanna long to spot the stranger standing just inside the rec room chatting with some of the teens. She walked slowly, taking time to assess him. Of average height and build, his dirty blond hair was cut military-short showcasing his piercing blue eyes. He wore a loose-fitting suit and his smile was strained. Joanna stood tall and confident as she approached him.

"Good afternoon," she said in greeting. "I work here at Challengers. Is there something I can help you with?"

He turned his empty smile on her causing a shiver to run down her back as she looked into eyes that were cold as ice.

"I was actually hoping to see MacGyver. He and I are old chums."

Loud warning bells went off in her head. Was this Murdoc?

"I'm sorry. Mac's not here right now. If you give me your name I can tell him you stopped by when he comes back."

"You must be Joanna," the man said, totally disregarding her suggestion.

"How do you know my name?" She hoped her voice didn't betray the quivering in her stomach.

"Like I said, Mac and I are old friends. I tend to keep myself abreast of his...activities. If you don't mind, I think I'll just stay and wait for him."

The man took a seat on a tattered couch and casually crossed his legs.

"I'm actually not sure when he'll return. He may have even gone out of town for a few days" Jo said, groping for anything to say that would get this unsettling man to leave.

"You are so naive, my dear. He will come when you ask him to. After all, he's partial to saving damsels in distress." The man slowly opened his jacket to reveal a shoulder holster holding a handgun.

Joanna couldn't believe her eyes. "It's true. You are Murdoc! You're alive!" She kept her voice low so the kids couldn't hear.

"I think it's time you made a phone call, eh?"

"And if I don't?"

The man shot to his feet and slapped Joanna across the cheek hard enough to make her head spin.

"Oh, I think you will. Now go call MacGyver like a good little girl."

Joanna nodded and obediently went to the telephone on the reception desk and dialed his number.

"The line's busy."

"Keep trying."

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"What do you got for me, Pete?" Mac asked anxiously after answering the phone on the second ring.

"Not much, I'm afraid," the older man sighed. "HIT is still officially underground, but there is some suspicion among certain government agencies that there's been some activity in the recent months. Mainly in Europe."

"What kind of activity?"

"My sources couldn't divulge that information, but they did tell me that a rogue agent by the name of Clancy has gotten antsy and may have struck out on his own. Possibly to prove his worth to HIT."

"Did this Clancy character have any connection with Murdoc?"

"Mac, you know I couldn't ask that! Just my poking around has probably raised some eyebrows. I did, however, put a couple trusted people on alert, just in case Clancy is the one harassing you."

"I understand, Pete. Thanks for your help."

"Keep me posted," Pete instructed as Mac clicked off the call.

MacGyver had barely set the phone back on the counter when it rang again.

"Hello?"

"Hi Mac, it's me." Joanna said in a tense voice.

"Are you okay?" he asked, but she just continued talking.

"An old friend of yours is here and waiting to see you."

Mac's heart plummeted to his toes. "Do whatever he tells you. I'm on my way!"

MacGyver ran to his Jeep and headed to Challengers. The trip had never seemed so long even though he was pretty sure he was breaking every land speed record known to man. He screeched to a halt in front of the large building but took a moment to collect his thoughts. He had no idea what he was stepping into. He needed to be calm, careful, and focused. There were too many people in harm's way. He cautiously entered the recreation room to find everyone huddled together in the exercise area facing a man who had a gun trained on them. Cynthia's dark eyes were wide with fear, while Joanna's were mere slits staring down her captor. A reddish mark, much like the imprint of a hand, marred her cheek and made his blood boil. But he had to remain objective and diffuse this situation without anyone getting hurt.

"Rule number one at assassin school is to never leave your back exposed. Were you absent that day, Clancy?"

"Sarcasm doesn't become you, MacGyver. Besides, rule number two is to know your enemy. I know you don't carry a weapon, and any attack on me would cause my gun to fire into this mass of humanity you seem so keen on protecting."

"What are you doin' here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Clancy asked, still not turning toward his foe. "I've come to kill you."

"Then kill me and get it over with, but let everyone else go. They mean nothing to you."

"Mmmm, no. I think not. You see, your friend Murdoc had somewhat of a moral code, albeit a bit twisted, that caused him to leave loose ends, especially where you were concerned. I, on the other hand, have no such qualms regarding children and innocent bystanders. I do whatever it takes to get the job done. And this time I will succeed where Murdoc consistently failed and become HIT's new golden boy."

"But HIT's been disbanded. There's nothing in this for you," Mac argued.

"Oh, MacGyver," Clancy chuckled. "You and your intelligence agents are such simpletons. HIT has been active for years. Carrying out assignments right under your noses. But that's neither here nor there. It's time for you and me to take care of some business of our own."

"This is mass murder, Clancy. How do you plan to get away with it?"

The hitman sighed. "If you must know, while your friends are mourning your untimely death, at my hands, no less, the stove in your so-called kitchen will suddenly have an unexplained gas leak causing an explosion. It could be days before all the bodies are recovered from the rubble. But, alas, your friends will have succumbed to the fumes before the blast can kill them. Unfortunately, it will be quite painless for them."

Tired of talking to the back of the madman's head, MacGyver's first instinct was to shout out and make him turn around and face him like a man. Mac was, as always, more than willing to give up his life for his friends, but this time, his death would seal their fates as well. He needed a plan, and he needed one quick. His eyes began to methodically search the room until his gaze fell upon a pair of hand weights someone had forgotten to pick up and put away, a bright pink vinyl covering concealing the five pounds of solid cast iron underneath. Too bad they lay just on the edge of Clancy's peripheral vision. He'd need a diversion to get the man's eyes to move away just a bit. Knowing he needed help and trusting in the unspoken connection he and Joanna often shared, he stared at her until he knew she felt his gaze. He breathed an inward sigh when he felt her eyes collide with his. Once he had her attention, he let his eyes slide from hers, to the weights, and back. After two glances she lowered her chin imperceptibly to indicate she understood.

"You're awful quiet back there, MacGyver. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" Clancy taunted snidely.

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Joanna knew Mac was counting on her to keep Clancy occupied while he reached for the would-be weapons. But what could she do? As a teacher, she had learned to quickly evaluate her students' strengths and weaknesses. She thought she had a pretty good idea of Clancy's as well.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that Clancy?" she said, her voice steadier than she could have ever anticipated.

"What do you mean?" he snapped, his gaze sending icy shards through her.

Ah, yes. A person's ego was always their downfall. He had to know what she thought of him.

"You think you're better than Murdoc. That you can do what he couldn't. But the funny thing is, you wouldn't be here today without him."

"How so?" There was no denying the anger in the man's voice. She had hit a nerve. Caught him off guard. She took the smallest of steps to her right, but he didn't notice. Gotcha!

"Well, you see," she began to explain, all the while taking miniscule steps that, if his gaze followed, would keep Mac out of his field of vision. "It took you using Murdoc's tricks to reel MacGyver in. The phone calls, the flowers, the paranoia and fear. You knew Mac would rise to Murdoc's bait, but not to yours. Not to plain old Clancy who he didn't even know existed until today. And then you go and turn your back on the most dangerous man in this room."

Her heart was in her throat as she watched Mac, over Clancy's shoulder, move just enough to reach out and quickly grab the bright pink dumbbells.

"Shut up!" cried the assassin. "You know I could shoot you right now!"

"You're gonna kill us all anyway so what difference does it make," she shot back, belatedly realizing that probably wasn't the smartest thing to say. Thankfully she seemed to have already lost his interest.

"Enough games! MacGyver, come stand in front of me and face me like a man while I kill you!"

"Yeah, no, that's not gonna happen."

"Why not?" Jo detected an uneasy edge in Clancy's voice. "Afraid I'll miss and hit one of the little hostages instead? Well, let me assure you, Mr. MacGyver, I don't miss!"

Joanna knew Mac wouldn't make a move until everyone else was out of harm's way. She had to get Clancy to turn around. She hoped that the adrenaline already flowing through his system coupled with every human's basic fight-or-flight instinct would do the trick.

She took a deep breath and then, without warning, screamed "Look out!" as she raised her arm to point to a spot behind him.

Clancy automatically pivoted, holding his gun out in front of him. MacGyver took the opportunity to bring one of the weights down hard across the man's wrist, sending the weapon clattering harmlessly to the floor. He jammed the other weight into Clancy's gut, causing the hit man to fall backwards, gasping for breath. One final shot to the jaw and the man was unconscious.

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Hours later, MacGyver sat on the front stoop of Challengers. Dusk had fallen and the club members had headed home. Moments after Clancy had been subdued, officials from various agencies had descended on the club like a swarm of killer bees. Pete had already called to inform Mac that the assassin was in custody and providing authorities with enough information to permanently neutralize HIT. He was lost in his own thoughts when he felt Joanna's hand lightly squeeze his shoulder.

"How're you doin'?" she asked.

"I should be asking you that," he replied, reaching up to take her hand and gently eased her down beside him. "You did a really good job in there, but you did have me worried when you started comparing him to Murdoc. That could have gone south really quick."

Jo shrugged. "I took a calculated risk. I figured if I was going down, I'd go down swinging. I'm pretty sure I learned that from you."

MacGyver remained silent as he fiddled with the audio cassette tape he had found on Clancy that had captured Murdoc's evil laugh one last time.

"I guess I finally believe that he's dead," he murmured.

A tall man in a dark suit approached. "Excuse me, sir, but I need that for evidence."

Mac wordlessly relinquished the tape. The weight he had carried for almost two decades lifted from his shoulders only to be replaced by a strange sort of sadness.

"Tell me about him," Jo requested softly.

"Huh?"

"Murdoc," she clarified. "Tell me about him."

Mac scrubbed his face with his hands. He had worked so hard to shield Joanna from the exact person she was now asking about. What could he say?

"Murdoc worked for HIT as a contract assassin who spent approximately fifteen years trying to kill me."

Jo shook her head. "That's what he did, I want to know who he was. There must have been something special about him to have affected you so deeply. Besides trying to kill you, that is," she concluded with a smirk.

MacGyver sighed thoughtfully before speaking again.

"He was highly intelligent, very creative, and had a really twisted sense of humor."

"Kinda sounds like you," Joanna observed.

"Maybe, if he had made a few different life choices, we could've worked for the same side."

"So then you don't believe he was inherently evil?"

"I did. For awhile. But then he came to me. Told me he had a sister who was in trouble and asked for my help."

"And you gave it," Jo surmised.

Mac nodded. "We worked together to rescue her, only she had no idea who Murdoc really was. That was his doing. His way of protecting her from his enemies. She never knew he was her brother. While we were trying to get to her, I could feel the pain inside him. It was then that I knew he was capable of unconditional love even if he didn't realize it himself."

"So he wasn't pure evil," she concluded.

"No," Mac replied. "But I think he always saw himself that way and acted accordingly. I bet he never even had a funeral. Every man deserves at least that." Mac's voice was husky now and he allowed Jo's warm hands caressing his back to comfort him.

"Sounds like you two may not have been that different after all."

MacGyver let himself chuckle at this. "If you would have said that ten years ago I would have unequivocally denied that. But now...I guess you could say we're more like opposite sides of the same coin."

"And you miss him."

"I wouldn't go that far!" Mac exclaimed. "But no man should die believing he's evil and unlovable. Not even Murdoc."

Jo laid her head on his shoulder, still rubbing his back, and he reveled in her love and understanding.

"He must have been a very lonely man," she mused.

A lump formed in MacGyver's throat. "I suppose he was."