Chapter 20

"Mac, would you please sit down? You're going to wear a hole in the floor, and I just barely had this space waxed!"

MacGyver barely glanced at his friend, even though he heard him. "I could care less about the fresh coat of wax on your floor right now, Pete."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he plunked himself down into one of the cushioned chairs across from the desk. "I'm sorry, Pete. I didn't mean that. I'm just–"

"I know," Pete said, raising a hand. "But you've been running yourself ragged these last two days, and you're wearing me out just watching you. You've already been over the entire park with a fine tooth comb, and we have the police and even some of our field agents out there looking for any sign of those men or that convertible. You have done everything you can–"

Now Mac was suddenly on his feet again, his eyes practically aflame with frustration and helplessness. "Yes, I have!" he practically shouted. "It's just like last time, where she was right where I knew where she was, and she was taken away. Except this time," he smacked his palm on the edge of Pete's desk, which caused his friend to jump a little, "I don't have any excuses! I was played a fool by two men who came to recapture her, and I fell for it! I had a chance to protect her, to keep her safe–"

Mac grimaced and squeezed his eyes shut briefly, as though unable to bear the overwhelming surge of guilt he felt for a moment. "I should have just brought her back to the safehouse. Or I should have stayed with her instead of leaving her, or insisted she come with me…"

"MacGyver." Pete's voice took on a fatherly edge, forcing Mac's eyes to snap back in his direction. "Please, don't do this to yourself. None of this was your fault, and there wasn't any way you could have known this would happen." Pete's eyes bored into Mac's, trying to hold the younger man's gaze and maintain eye contact.

No matter what, Pete did not want to risk Mac going off the deep end again, much like he had a few months ago when he'd gone rock climbing with Mike, and that tragic accident had occurred. Mac and Ruby were not exactly close friends, Pete wasn't particularly sure what the current state of their friendship was, but he still knew how Mac could get sometimes.

If there were three things in this world that MacGyver genuinely hated, it was the loss of life, an unsolved puzzle, and feeling helpless when he wished he could've done something or felt that he should have done it differently. Although Ruby was a young woman he barely even knew overall, and had barely associated with until after Bill's death and in recent weeks when she just happened to turn up again, she just happened to be a representation of all three things, all wrapped in one bundle.

This was killing Mac in a way. Pete could tell. MacGyver saw this as a second chance to help her, since fate and good fortune had dropped the opportunity in his lap to protect her and possibly save her from whoever had taken her, and to find out what happened in the first place and solve that mystery. Pete was a bit concerned that, if the girl didn't turn up again or they couldn't find any clues… this was going to tear Mac up in a way that Pete couldn't even begin to guess at yet.

Just then, the door opened to permit none other than Helen. The woman's features held lines of stress and worry; although she hadn't said much over the last couple of days, the two men knew she was worried about Ruby as well. Now, her eyes held a sense of urgency as she relayed a message.

"Pete," she said, "I just had a strange phone call from someone who claims he knows where you can find Ruby."

"What?" Pete exclaimed.

"Where?" Mac asserted.

Helen held out a piece of yellow lined paper on which she had written the exact information. Mac didn't quite snatch it, but he wasted no time taking it from her fingers either.

"Who was this person who called?" Pete wanted to know while Mac read the information. He figured it would take his friend a few moments to process and absorb whatever his secretary had jotted down, so he would gather other important information in the meantime.

"I don't know who it was," Helen shrugged. "I didn't recognize his voice, but he just said he was a friend of Ruby. He told me exactly where to find her, and he also made it quite clear that if anyone comes after her… they should be discreet. If the men holding her hear sirens or notice a group of people approaching, they will grab Ruby and take off."

"That means I have to go there alone," Mac proclaimed, apparently having already made a decision.

"Mac!" Pete began to protest, but his friend cut him off.

"Pete, I have to do this! We both know I have to go alone or this won't work, and I am not gonna lose her again!" Mac stated, firm and resolute.

Pete gritted his teeth, casting an almost helpless glance between Mac and Helen. MacGyver was already moving toward the door. Knowing that he wasn't going to talk Mac out of this, and also knowing that they would waste precious time by debating the issue–and that Ruby was in danger, and maybe a very small part of it was, indirectly, Pete's own fault as well–he simply said the only thing he could to Mac's retreating back before the door slid shut.

"Mac, please be careful!"

Pete thought he caught a glimpse of Mac glancing slightly back in his direction, an appreciative glint in his eye, but then MacGyver was gone. That man could really move when he wanted to, and right now, he was a man on a mission.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The house was located at the end of a long, winding dirt road deep in the forest. Ironically, it was just a few miles up east from the edge of the park and that clump of bushes where Ruby had been taken. If Mac had only known that, he could have hiked that distance in just a couple of hours or so.

It was fairly remote, though the house had clearly been abandoned for some time. It was a bit run down and it would require a fresh coat of paint and some moderate repairs if anyone wanted to live in it, but he supposed it was suitable enough for someone who wanted to hide out for a little while.

MacGyver crept up carefully, grateful that it was so late in the evening and the sun had already started to set. He had the cover of darkness as his ally, along with a number of bushes, clumps of ferns and other patches of overgrown flora to help hide his approach.

He was very careful to survey the area before making any kind of direct approach. He did not want another confrontation with those two men, assuming both of them were inside, and there was no way to tell yet if more men might be inside. He was encouraged, however, when he spotted the red convertible he'd seen earlier, parked around the side.

Very slowly, he crept up toward the opposite side of the house, already looking for a potential way in or anything he could use to try and get inside unnoticed. His eyes locked onto a couple of items nearby, including an old and rusty rake that had been left out there, and an old garden hose that was a bit worn, but still solid and intact.

Mac grabbed the hose and coiled the entire length just enough to tuck it under his arm, then he picked up the rake and began to work at it. With the aid of a tool on his swiss army knife, he took out the metal pegs that secured the head of the rake to the pole, then leaned the pole against the side of the house and focused on the metal piece of the rake in his hands.

He then took the end of the hose and fastened it securely around part of the metal, then took a moment to inspect the tines. Everything was quite sturdy overall despite the rust and, thankfully, this was a thick and sturdy rake rather than one of those flimsy ones that were designed for the sole task of raking leaves.

Satisfied with his improvisation so far, he tucked it under his armpit and surveyed the area to see if there was anything else he could use. He needed some kind of diversion before he could try to get inside, something to draw out anyone who might be inside so he could get in and get Ruby out, assuming she was still in there.

That's when he heard a buzzing noise nearby, and he spotted a rather large wasp's nest located on the corner of a nearby shed. He eyed it thoughtfully for a moment, thinking quickly. He then crept closer to the shed, moving very carefully and quietly, then pried open the door on the front of the shed to see if there was anything useful inside.

There wasn't much in there, but there were a few pieces of scrap wood and an old metal bucket. Nodding a little, he picked up the bucket and the thinnest piece of wood available, then he carefully took up a position just in front of the wasp nest. Very slowly, he placed the bucket opening over the wasp nest, pressed firmly on the bottom of the bucket to hold it in place and then, with his free hand, he slid the edge of the wood underneath the nest to gently scrape it from the wood, allowing it to fall freely into the bucket. Then he finished sliding the piece of wood under it fully covering the opening up the bucket, and only then did he dare to move the bucket away from its position against the shed.

There was a wild frenzy of buzzing inside the bucket, prompting him to double-check and make certain he did have the flat piece of wood securely over the top of the bucket, then he gave a small satisfied smile and moved back over to the side of the house.

He set the bucket down beside him and picked up a nearby rock to set on top of the piece of wood that kept the wasps inside, thus making doubly sure the wasps couldn't move the flimsy lid from the top of the bucket. Then he took the hose from his armpit and gave the end of it with the rake head attached a careful, experimental swing, noting that it would probably make a decent grappling hook–so he hoped, anyway.

Up above his head, there was a window on the second level that he hoped he could slip in through without any notice. But first, he had to get to the roof–and that's where his makeshift grappling hook would come in handy. He swung it around a couple of times and then gave it a toss, satisfied with the heavy-duty tines snagged securely onto part of the gutter up above. He gave it an experimental tug, then a yank, and only then was he relatively assured it would hold his weight.

Then he took a moment to put a couple strips of duct tape on two sides of the bucket to hold the makeshift lid in place, he slipped the fist-sized rock that had been holding it into his pocket, then put the bucket (which was still buzzing ferociously inside) under his arm. Then, very carefully, he began his upward descent.

Once he had both feet planted securely on the roof, at least as well as he could with crumbling tiles and where he had to lean at an angle to hang on, he began to inch toward the window.

That's when he heard what sounded like the front door down below, a little ways off to his right, crash open.

"What is it, Red?" he heard one voice call out.

"I thought I heard something out here," came the other voice.

Mac gritted his teeth, tensing. Had these guys heard him somehow? He didn't see how, unless one of them heard him scrambling around a little up there on the roof. Had he made more noise than he'd thought?

Very carefully, he quietly peeled the pieces of duct tape off of the bucket and the pieces of wood, still holding the wood firmly in place with his thumb while angling the bucket against his side and hip.

He then slowly reached into his pocket and extracted the rock, then gave it a well-aimed toss at the shed. Sure enough, one of the men–who he quickly recognized as one of the guys who'd taken Ruby–came over to check it out.

Then MacGyver tossed the entire bucket off of the roof to land right next to the man on the ground. He then took the sound of startled outcry–which only slightly out-shouted the furious buzzing–as his cue to finish making his way up to the window, particularly when he heard both of the men shouting as the other one apparently came over to see what was going on.

Mac wasted no time prying open the window and letting himself inside, quickly shutting it behind him. He took a moment to breathe in and out, relieved that he was in fact inside, but knowing he was still pressed for time. Those men wouldn't stay out there forever, and he had a slight advantage in being on the top floor for the moment, but he still had to think and move fast.

He quickly surveyed the room, intent on what he could find next to use. There wasn't much available to him in this room, except for a table, a chair, an old and ragged rug, a closet…

The closet was shut. He walked over to it and opened up the pair of doors, finding some clothing inside that were remarkably well-preserved for the most part. Apparently, the weather hadn't touched them much up here, and they had aged fairly well.

He helped himself to a pair of pants that just happened to have a decent piece of elastic in the waistline. Gently using his knife to cut away some of the material, he extracted the elastic and set it aside on the table. Then he took a metal coat hanger and carefully bent and twisted it into the curved shape he wanted, then he grabbed the elastic and held it up next to the piece of metal, eyeballing the length he needed. He trimmed the excess length of the elastic with his knife and let the discarded piece fall to the floor by his feet, already forgotten.

Mac tied one end of the elastic to one part of the metal, stretched it lightly until it was taut, then secured the other end to another part of the bent hanger. Now he had a makeshift bow, of a sort… or perhaps it was more similar to a slingshot. Then he took an old T-shirt from the closet, wadded it up into a tight ball and put a long piece of duct tape around it to, hopefully, keep it in that shape.

Now he had some ammo for his makeshift bow, if he needed it. This wouldn't be much of a defense mechanism, but hopefully he could catch someone by surprise if they came at him, if he could fling the item right in their face. He would just have to hope the elastic would hold and that his aim was good enough.

Very carefully, he held his makeshift device at the ready and began to slowly move from this room into the next, trying to determine where Ruby might be. There was no sign of her in the next room or even the next one over. But he did encounter a staircase, and he wondered if he dared begin a tentative descent…

Well, if he wanted to try and find Ruby, he would have to chance it. He winced a little as one of the steps creaked maddeningly, then he proceeded downward carefully.

Once he was on the first floor, he was moderately relieved when there was no sign of the two men yet. Hopefully, they were still busy looking for him outside–especially since he had been smart enough to pull the hose up onto the roof after he'd finished climbing up. They didn't have a chance to see it dangling down out there.

He continued to cautiously creep through the house, resisting the urge to call out Ruby's name. He just couldn't chance anything that might bring those guys back inside. He would just have to rely on his own surveying gaze, as he continued to move between the rooms…

The living room looked relatively normal if a bit worn, as though someone had done at least something to make this space a little more liveable. He had a feeling that this was the space those men had been using as their primary living space during their time here, although he still couldn't tell what they were doing here or why… apart from holding Ruby, possibly.

So where in the world was she? Well, he still had at least a couple more rooms to search…

He was just about to open the door on a room that might have been a bedroom when he heard a sudden noise that made his head whirl around. One of the men had come inside and spotted him immediately. "Hey," he growled, "you're the one who was with Ruby in the park!"

Mac had just enough time to raise his makeshift weapon as the man started to lunge at him. In a manner that surprised even himself, Mac was able to arm his bow with the wadded, duct-taped T-shirt, and he sent it zooming across the room to smack the man right between the eyes.

"ACK!" the man exclaimed, and it was then that Mac realized he'd hit a sensitive spot where one of the wasps had apparently got him good.

Mac wasted no time punching the man's proverbial porch light, sending him crashing into a nearby floor lamp. The man appeared to be momentarily stunned, which gave Mac a moment of satisfaction.

But then the other man appeared as if out of thin air. He did something unexpected. In a movement of speed that seemed unbelievably fast, almost like a flash of lightning, he leaped past his partner's motionless form and gave Mac such a hard shove that he was sent flying across the room. He toppled over a dusty old couch to land on the other side of it, smacking his head against the edge of a coffee table as he hit the floor.

His vision swam for an instant, then everything went black.