MacGyver didn’t have time to think, he just reacted, diving into the river with no regard for his own safety. To his credit, Jack Dalton was mere seconds behind him.

Mac reached Ayo first and quickly flipped the boy over so his mouth and nose were clear of the water. Ayo didn’t move, he didn’t cry out in pain, he simply bled from the head wound onto his rescuer’s shoulder.

MacGyver tried not to think about it as he passed Ayo over to Jack so that he could scramble up the muddy, and pretty steep bank. Once clear of the current, he reached down and gently lifted the boy’s prone form clear of the water, laying him carefully down by the school house.

Jack clambered from the edge of the river to join them, his hair and clothes soaking wet. “Is he..?”

MacGyver shook his head. “He’s not breathing!”

Dalton wasn’t taking that as the end. Maybe because he felt responsible, or maybe because he was a better person than most people assumed.

He dropped down onto his knees and carefully began mouth to mouth, while Mac started chest compressions.

Ife watched, both frightened and yet thankful that someone was trying to help.

After a few seconds that seemed like hours, Mac let his hand slide to Ayo’s neck, and then put his ear to the boy’s chest. “Pulse’s pretty weak, but he’s breathing…”

Ayo coughed, bringing up river water with a gurgle, but his eyes rolled instead of staying focused, and he didn’t stir further.

Ife dared to move closer, her eyes pleading with the two men who have pulled her son from the water. “Will he be alright?”

MacGyver held Ayo in his arms, and for a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to answer. All he could see over and over was Jesse bleeding, Jesse dying…

Kids shouldn’t ever be put into these situations. Not because of guns, not because Jack had made a bad business decision, and most of all, not because some power mad dictator felt he had to exert his iron hand.

Eventually, MacGyver looked to Jack and then Ife. “He’s in and out of consciousness from the head wound,” he explained honestly. “You said there was a doctor in the next village? I think we need to get Ayo there as quickly as we can.”

Jack pulled a soggy handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the cut on Ayo’s head. It was more symbolic than anything, but Mac knew the guilt his friend was going through. He’d felt that very same guilt over Jesse’s death.

“I’ll carry him.” Jack didn’t offer, his voice demanded, and MacGyver understood why.

Mac shifted Ayo’s weight in his arms and handed the boy over. Before he could say anything, Jack was on his way back to the path they’d been on earlier, carefully cradling Ayo like he was a piece of fragile porcelain.

“I…” MacGyver turned to Ife, but suddenly found he had no words to give.

Ife put a hand on his arm, and she wasn’t angry – at least not with MacGyver or Jack. “My people have put up with this for many years. This wasn’t your doing. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. Go now, and save my son…I will follow after I have found his father.” Her eyes turned glassy, and she spun around, apparently unwilling to show anymore emotion.

MacGyver laid a hand on her shoulder, but didn’t attempt to look her in the eye. “We’ll look after him. I promise.”

But could he really?

Mac exhaled and swallowed hard, and then chased after Jack. Time was of the essence now.

* * * *

The Avery Clinic
Southern Province
East Zambula

MacGyver had never seen Jack Dalton move so fast, not even when he had half of L.A.s finest on his tail and a couple of C.I.A. agents to boot.

Still, Ayo in his current condition was a dead weight, and halfway to the village Mac had to swap places with his friend, supporting Ayo’s injured head with his hand as he ran.

It was hard over such rough terrain not to jolt the kid, but he tried.

The journey on foot should have taken an hour, maybe more, but somehow the pair made it in forty minutes.

Mac bounded up the wooden porch steps to the clinic screen door, but Dalton was faster, barging through the entrance and straight into a small waiting area.

Locals looked at him like he was a madman, and to a point, he probably was right at that moment. Jack looked around frantically, and then headed for a door marked “Treatment Room”. He hammered on it with his fists until a woman in surgical greens, with long flowing blonde hair answered him with a slap across his left cheek.

“Come in here when I’m with a patient again, mister, and it’ll be more than a slap!”

Had the situation not been so grave, MacGyver would have found it funny, but instead he pushed past Dalton and offered up Ayo. “We need help,” he pleaded. “Some of Ademola’s soldiers attacked his village…”

The people in the waiting room began to murmur and look at one another in fear. It was obvious this kind of thing wasn’t new to them, and it had struck a terrifying chord.

The blonde, heaved down a breath as if she too was sick of seeing Ademola’s work and gently took Ayo from Mac’s arms. She turned quickly, shutting the treatment room door behind her.

Jack began to pound on it again until MacGyver pulled him away.

In apparent defeat, Jack slumped down onto a waiting room chair, his energy seemingly draining like the color had from his face. “This is all my fault,” he whimpered. “I’ve as good as killed that kid.”

MacGyver took the next seat, but he didn’t know what to say. Words just wouldn’t come to him because he felt the same guilt.

“You haven’t done anything.”

Mac and Dalton looked up simultaneously to see Ife watching them with eyes like a night owl. She was still clearly upset, but had gathered herself enough to talk.

“This happens here too much,” she continued. “You didn’t hurt my son; Ademola did, like so many innocents before.”

“We shouldn’t have been here. It would have helped.” Jack spoke with his eyes to the ground and his hands cradled in his lap.

“No it wouldn’t!” Ife seemed angry suddenly. “Today, two people died in my village when the troops came. One of them was Ayo’s father. He wasn’t killed because of you, but because he stood up to Ademola and his regime and constantly spoke against it!”

“We’re very sorry, ma’am…” Now even MacGyver’s eyes were on the ground – not because of any guilt, but because he felt so helpless – right when he wanted to do something for these people.

The blonde doctor returned from the treatment room, stifling any further ideas he might have had on the subject, for the moment, at least.

Jack was on his feet first, his cap scrunched between tremulous hands. “How is he?”

“Not good.” She shook her head, looking at both men, then to Ife. “There’s just so little I can do here. We don’t even have an x-ray machine, and really, the boy needs a brain scan. I think there might be intracranial bleeding, but there’s no way we can move him any great distance to a hospital.”

Ife seemed more certain of the outcome. “He will live,” she said matter-of-factly taking the seat Jack had just vacated.

The doctor frowned, and Mac expected her to correct Ife, but she didn’t. She looked to him instead, as if he held all the answers. “I just don’t have the facilities here…”

MacGyver bit his lip. “Didn’t I read somewhere that cooling a patient with a brain injury can help?”

“I’ve read about it, but it’s all speculation right now. I think there are studies going on, but it’s pretty irrelevant anyway.” The blonde stuffed her hands in the pockets of the white coat she’d donned at some point and turned to go back into the treatment room.

MacGyver wasn’t leaving it at that so easily, and followed. “Would it hurt to try?”

“No – that is, if we actually had any ice. Like I said, we don’t have the facilities here of a Western hospital.”

Mac couldn’t believe his ears. “You don’t have a refrigerator? What about the medicines and drugs that need to be kept cool?”

“We have a refrigerator, a rather ancient one that has no freezer compartment, hence, no ice.” The doctor slumped down onto a chair with a torn leather seat and put her head in her hands. “Some days, I just feel so helpless.”

“Well don’t!” MacGyver leaned over, took the doctor’s chin and looked into her pale blue eyes. “C’mon, let’s make some ice for Ayo…” He tugged her to her feet. “Name’s MacGyver by the way.”

“I’m…I’m Helen Scott. Doctor Helen Scott…” She stammered as he dragged her around the room. “What exactly are we doing?”

“Looking for a fire extinguisher. Got any around here? We need a Co2 one…” Mac winced as he came up empty after looking in every corner of the room.

“There’s one out in the waiting room, and one over in the village. I don’t even know if they work, let alone what type, though. They were given to us.” It was Helen’s turn to take the lead, as she pulled Mac out to where Jack and Ife where still patiently sitting. “Here!” She held it up triumphantly and Mac quickly examined it.

Technically, it was the wrong type of extinguisher for the clinic at all, but today, it was a miracle, as it was just what he was looking for.

Mac bounded back in the treatment room with Helen in tow.

“Right, I need something cloth, something enclosed…” MacGyver was thinking again, but the doctor beat him to it.

“How about a pillow sham from one of the clinic beds?”

Mac smiled. They made a good team. “Perfect! Have you got any thick gloves too, this stuff can be so cold it burns if you don’t handle it right.”

Helen vanished into another room and returned with the sham, and what looked like a pair of welding gloves.

“You got the goggles and blow torch to match?” Mac raised a brow cheekily, and the doctor managed a wane smile.

“Not me personally, but one of the villagers is very handy with the old oxy acetylene.” She took down a breath, becoming more serious. “So you’re going to make ice? How?”

Mac pulled the pin on the top of the extinguisher and placed the horn inside the pillow sham, making sure to hold it tight as he pressed the release valve. The sham instantly began to blow up, and white vapors seemed to ebb from the end.

After a few seconds, Mac released the trigger and opened the sham to reveal lots of white crystalline clusters. “Easy as that,” he concluded. “Although chemically speaking, this is dry ice – like I said, much colder than the normal stuff, so we need to be careful how we pack it around Ayo, so we don’t give him frostbite.”

Mac handed Helen the gloves, silently assigning the job of cooling the boy to her, while he made more of the crystals. Fifteen minutes later, they were done, and Doctor Scott was pulling off her huge mittens.

“Thank you,” she said softly, her eyes becoming slightly moist.

“What for?”

“Trying?” There was a silent moment, and then the doctor moved to some shelving and began gathering a few first aid items. When she’d done, she grabbed Mac’s hand and led him out onto a porch at the back of the building. “Let me fix up that cut on your arm while we talk,” she explained.

Mac glanced down at it. With everything that had happened it seemed too small and insignificant to even bother with. “It’s nothing.”

“Well, it’s a “nothing” that at least needs cleaning and a couple of butterflies.” She began to work, despite his protests.

“Ow!” Mac complained so heartily even Jack would have been proud. “You know, you remind me of someone…you ever see the movie Roadhouse? You remind me of the doc in that…”

“Does that make you Patrick Swayze?” Helen teased.

“Are you kidding? I have two left feet unless it involves hockey.” Mac looked down at his tan boots to prove his point.

“I wasn’t talking about dancing.” The doctor’s brow ticked up, and abruptly she looked much more serious. “I was talking about how he cleaned up that bar and stopped the bad guys. Somehow, I have a feeling he was your kind of guy.”

MacGyver suddenly realized what she was talking about. “That was a bar. In a movie. This is a whole African state. You think one man can change what’s happening here?”

Helen finished up placing the last butterfly. “I think maybe two men might be able to do it.” She looked up into Mac’s eyes, and there was conviction in her words, and maybe, something more.

Attraction even?

Mac blinked and turned away.

He knew Helen Scott was right about what kind of man he was, and there was no way he would leave these people behind without trying to help them.

“How long has this all been going on?” He asked, looking out over the untouched grasslands. It would have been a beautiful place, had he not known what was happening to its people.

Helen moved to join him. “About two years, give or take. In the time I’ve been here, there have been twenty-four deaths in the nearby villages alone. Ademola spends all his peoples’ money on himself, and anyone who gets in his way is promptly dealt with.”

MacGyver winced. He’d seen this all so many times, and yet the world’s nations never seemed to be able to quite stop it happening over again. “Has no one tried to ask for outside help? There are organizations that would get involved. I work for one, in fact…”

The doctor shook her head, her long blonde her blowing back in the warm breeze. “Some have tried. But they’ve died for their trouble.”

Mac ran a hand through the front of his hair in exasperation. “How can someone treat his own countrymen this way? Money, power, it isn’t everything. In the long run, it isn’t anything.”

Helen opened her mouth to reply, but was cut off by the door to the treatment room slamming. She whirled around, just in time to see Jack Dalton barreling in, his face red and his eyes bulging.

“Guys, sorry to interrupt your little interlude of romantic proportions, but we have a problem. A big one!”

Mac scowled. “Romantic what?”

Jack shrugged. “Hey, I could see the way you two puppies were looking at each other…”

This time Helen scowled. “We were talking about Ademola!”

Jack’s features ticked into a grin. “Sure you were…” He shook himself. “Hey, we can talk about that stuff later. Right now, we’ve been cut off at the pass, as in, surrounded by the President’s men. Our goose is well and truly cooked!”

MacGyver let out a long calming breath, and then gave Jack his best, most serious stare. The soldiers had come for them, and them alone. “We have to give ourselves up, Jack, no heroics. We can’t put the villagers or the clinic in danger.”

“What? No making bombs outta chloroform or whatever?” Dalton looked disappointed.

“No bombs,” Mac confirmed. “We just walk right on out with our hands in the air.”

“And get shot,” Jack concluded. “But hey, it’s bound to be fun while it lasts…” He gulped, but headed for the waiting room, and the door to the outside.

MacGyver followed, only pausing when he realized Helen was at his side. “Stay here. Look after these people. I’ll be back. I promise.”

The doctor’s blue eyes danced with uncertainty, but she took his hand and squeezed it. “I know you will. Who else can make me more ice?” Her lips curled into a thin smile.

Mac squeezed her hand back, and then was gone, walking out onto the porch with his hands in the air.

Outside, the clinic was encircled by troops, some with their weapons drawn. At the center of the front contingent was an officer, but it wasn’t Ademola.

As Jack and MacGyver exited, the officer, badged as a general, stepped out to meet them. He was a small man, but what he lacked in stature, he more than made up for in poise. He held both hands clasped behind his back, and his chest stood out true and proud.

“Don’t tell me, this is the part where you threaten us with torture and all manner of nasty, untimely ends?” Jack was pushing his luck, and he didn’t seem to care.

The general’s eyes narrowed, and then he walked up the porch to stare right into Jack’s face. After a moment, he huffed. “Actually, this is the part where I ask for your help.”

Mac dared to lower his hands. Was this a ruse, or maybe the officer had a sick sense of humor? “S’cuse me, you need what?” Now even MacGyver was pushing his luck with the incredulous tone of his voice.

“My name is General Okilo, and I need your help.” The officer repeated his plea. “I may work for a tyrant, but my loyalty is with the people of my country. At this time, my sole purpose is to rid Zambula of its evil master and return rule to the public.” He sighed moving his hands to clench them in front of him. “I have made one ill-fated attempt to dispose of Ademola, and in doing so, I fear I have brought his wrath upon you, and on the villagers.”

MacGyver thought about Okilo’s words, and finally realized what had happened to the Learjet. “You had Ademola’s new jet sabotaged, but it didn’t quite go to plan, did it? I guess the charges went off before they were supposed to huh?”

Okilo’s hands returned to their position behind his back and he grew even more stoic. “Indeed. Next time, I shall do the job myself and make sure it is done correctly.” He looked pointedly at MacGyver. “Will you help me?”

“I won’t be part of any killing,” Mac answered quickly. “That’s not how I do things.” And yet, despite having misgivings about getting involved in a foreign country’s affairs, he did want to stop the persecution and deaths.

It was a no win situation, unless he could figure a way to stop a tyrant without anymore bloodshed.

Okilo seemed disappointed. “Then you won’t help?”

MacGyver shook his head. “I didn’t say that. I’ll help, but on one condition – if we can do this without any more violence.”

“With Ademola, that is impossible.” Okilo sighed. “It is the only language he knows.”

“Then we’re gonna teach him a new one.” Mac smiled, and the gesture seemed to break down the steely barrier between them. “C’mon, it can’t hurt to try, right, Jack?” He glanced to Dalton for support.

“Try is my middle name!” Jack agreed heartily. “As long as there are no more lions involved…I really didn’t like the look of that puppy’s teeth. Huge was an understatement!”

Okilo stared at Jack as if he’d gone mad and Mac had to intervene. “Don’t mind him, he’s always that way.”

“That may be,” Jack admitted. “But I think I’m the only sane person in this venture. Let’s face it, how exactly are we going to stop Ademola without violence, when he has an army, guns, bodyguards, tanks even!”

MacGyver remembered the hulk the Learjet had crashed into. Yes, Ademola had a whole arsenal at his disposal, but the old adage was still true – the bigger they were, sometimes, the harder they fell.

“Don’t worry,” Mac smiled. “I have a plan…”

Jack’s moustache twitched. “Yeah? But is it a good one? Are we gonna make something outta nothing? Use duct tape to build an escape tunnel maybe? Or how about fixing up the Learjet with just your knife and a paperclip and flying everyone outta this place?” The disdain was evident in his sarcasm.

MacGyver’s smile never wavered. “Nope, we’re gonna kidnap the President!”

“We’re what?!” Both Jack and Okilo chimed simultaneously. “How?!”

Mac looked back to the clinic. “With the good Doctor’s help. That’s how…”

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