Sam saw his dad’s face and whirled around. “Oh boy…”

“The Eurostar systems can withstand the fire and heat for over thirty minutes. We’re quite safe…” It was the woman from before, and she apparently had been trained well on the tunnel’s safety measures. “I’m Tara by the way.”

Mac didn’t take his eyes from the blaze. “And what happens after the thirty minutes?” He dared to ask with a tick of his right brow.

Tara sucked down a breath. “Well, if the train is still moving it’s diverted to a special emergency platform for the fire to be put out. If it’s stuck in the tunnel, special fire safety STTS vehicles can reach it in around ten minutes via the service tunnel.”

MacGyver still didn’t like it. “Sounds good, but theory put into practice almost never works the way it’s supposed to. We should see if we can get out one of the rear carriages just in case.”

Sam apparently agreed. “I’ll go back there and see if everyone is okay, and if there’s an exit we can still use.”

“I’ll go with him,” McDonald chimed in. “People might be hurt…”

Mac nodded, but wasn’t convinced of the Scot’s motives. He wanted off the train, and MacGyver doubted very much whether anyone else’s well being counted. The real question, though, was whether McDonald was part of what had happened. He’d acted suspiciously, but was this really an act of terrorism?

“Right, I’ll check on everyone in here and slowly start to move everyone back towards the rear of the train, just in case.” MacGyver looked around, finally spotted an emergency flashlight near the compartment door and grabbed it.

He watched Sam and McDonald go, and then turned back to play his own light over the front of the carriage.

Most of the passengers were up and sitting on the edge of seats that were now at a forty-five degree angle. Some were even scribbling notes for a future scoop on the event. Mac shook his head, reporters never ceased to amaze him.

Further forward the carriage door that led into the engineer/driver’s compartment had buckled slightly and several of the seats there were mangled. MacGyver remembered Angela Markham sitting in one earlier, and he hadn’t seen her since the train had derailed.

If Angela had been conscious, all hell would have broken loose by now.

Mac quickly brushed past other reporters until he came to Jurgen. The German was sitting on an upturned table rubbing at his temple where it trickled blood. In the dim light from the single flashlight, it took a moment for him to recognize his old friend. “MacGyver? I might have known there would be mayhem with you onboard,” he bemoaned in almost perfect English.

Mac nodded, and then bobbed his head towards the damaged seats. “Have you seen Angela?”

Jurgen blinked. “I’d rather not, thanks…” Then he seemed to realize what the implication meant and spun around. “She must still be over there…”

Both men dived forwards until they reached the twisted metal of the seats. Mac weaved his light underneath the mess, and was instantly greeted with a groan as the beam picked out two bleary blue eyes.

“I…I think I’m trapped under here,” Markham sputtered. “Please help…”

The plea was so pitiful it shook MacGyver. Angela was a loud mouth who would normally be screaming for some “idiots to get her free.” For Markham to be begging like that, she had to be terrified, and in real trouble. Any memory of her scathing remarks vanished as he kneeled to see how badly she was pinned.

The damaged seat had Markham’s right leg trapped against the carriage wall, and there was blood – lots of it. That, accompanied by the growing fire outside meant they had to work fast.

MacGyver squinted in the dull light, evaluating the state of the seats, the way they’d been warped, and how they’d originally been fitted into the floor. It looked like large bolts held the main sections in place for safety, but the top parts were secured by large screws that seemed to go into some kind of captive nut the other side. It was this part that had been mangled, and this part that was holding Markham down.

Mac considered getting some of the men together and simply trying to yank the part off the reporter, but with all the sharp edges there was a good chance she’d be hurt further. He passed his flashlight to Jurgen and pointed. “Can you give me all the light you can right here?”

The German nodded and stepped carefully into place, trying not to obscure any of the precious beam with his shadow.

MacGyver hunkered down, flicked out his penknife and secured the largest screwdriver blade it held. It probably wasn’t going to be big enough, but he tried anyway. The blade was a surprisingly good fit, but that was a moot point. The thing spun in his hand as the captive nut the other side moved instead of holding.

Mac grimaced and let his fingers probe the back of the metal segment. The captive was sharp to his fingers and had definitely been damaged along with the bar it held. He pulled back and realized his hand was wet with Markham’s blood.

If he’d had tools, he could have gotten a pair of grips on the spinning clip, but he was on a burning train in the middle of the Euro Tunnel with very little light, and even less in the way of any mechanical gear.

Markham took MacGyver’s silence as a bad sign. “I’m trapped, aren’t I?” She seemed to accept it a little too easily. Maybe she was already going into shock.

“A little,” Mac admitted. “But nothing we can’t fix.” He smiled reassuringly and then looked up when his light was blocked by a newcomer. It was Tara, and she looked a little less confident than before.

“I think we need to hurry,” the Euro Tunnel worker whispered. “The fire is spreading fast. Everyone else is moving to the last compartment until we hear back from your son and the other man.”

MacGyver didn’t seem to hear her. Instead, he stared at the scarf she wore. It reminded him of the ones the British Airways flight attendants had worn on his way over, but that wasn’t the really interesting or cool fact about it. No, the cool fact was that Tara’s scarf was probably about to become the tool that saved a life.

“S’cuse me, but can I just borrow this please?” Without really waiting, Mac gently tugged the scarf from around Tara’s neck and stuffed it behind the twisted metal until it was behind the spinning clip.

He pressed it hard onto the metal fastener, and then used the driver attachment of his knife again on the other end. The screw and clip both started to spin, and the material of the scarf spun with it until it grew tight around the clip, effectively holding the thing as good as any mechanic’s tool.

Once the captive nut was held fast, the screw slowly retreated from its place in the metal, and Mac was able to pull the bar for the upper seat away from Markham’s leg. She yelped, then seemed to pass out.

In any other situation, Mac knew well enough not to move someone, but today, in the tunnel, he had no choice. Gently grabbing Angela’s free hands, he tugged her from under the mass of seats and up into his arms.

MacGyver nodded to Tara and Jurgen, they were the only ones left this far forward now. “C’mon, we need to get back with the others and fast…”

Neither argued with him.

* * * *

The last compartment on the 373 was packed full of staff, reporters, photographers and a few security people – and most of them were in the early stages of panic.

MacGyver gestured for them to clear a space and carefully placed Markham onto the floor. Someone dressed as a guard came forwards with a first aid kit, and once Mac was sure they knew what they were doing, he left them to help the reporter. He pushed through the throng of people until he found the rear exit, along with Sam and McDonald. The latter seemed agitated, and not just because of their situation.

Mac couldn’t quite describe it, but the Scot’s actions were like those of a man who was suddenly not getting his own way.

The fact that no one had left the train already suggested that they had a problem, so MacGyver focused on that first. He could always deal with McDonald later, should the need arise. If we actually make it, his mind warned.

“Dad, the fire’s reached the rear of the train already. I think maybe we could jump for it, it’s only on the surface, burning the paint right now, but…”

“But some of the people on here don’t have such long legs to carry them away from the flames…” Mac looked back, thinking of the woman aboard who wouldn’t have as far reaching a leap, or the older generation who just wouldn’t have the energy to make a dive far enough to get them clear. Not to mention Angela Markham, who was in no condition to jump, period.

Mac looked back at the upturned seats – the material they were made of, and indeed covered with would be flame retardant. He tugged out his knife and tossed it to Sam who caught it like it was thrown at him every day.

“Strip the material from the seats, soak it in water and then wrap it around everyone who might not be able to jump far enough away from the flames. It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing. I’ll start to get the evacuation of the rest under way.”

Sam nodded and didn’t waste time asking questions. Slinging his camera back over his shoulder out of the way he raced through the crowd and began cutting like lives depended on it – because they did.

MacGyver turned to everyone else and noted they’d not only grown silent, but they were watching him as if they expected him to take charge. Mac swallowed and held up a hand. “Okay, folks, the flames aren’t that bad yet, so we’re going to open the door and take a running jump away from the rear of the train. As soon as you land, make sure you roll as much as you can to put out any fire.”

Some of the woman turned white, along with a couple of the men.

Mac tried to look reassuringly at everyone, but they were terrified, and why shouldn’t they be? He glanced at McDonald again, unable to extinguish the idea that the man had played a part in the events transpiring any more than he could extinguish the flames outside.

If he started this mess, he can help finish it…

“McDonald, you go first and help people as they land. Make sure they roll if they’ve picked up any sparks.” MacGyver watched the man for a reaction, and there was a slight pause before he bobbed his head in agreement.

McDonald would be trouble later, Mac was sure; just how much trouble remained to be seen.

Jurgen bit his bottom lip and stepped closer to Mac. “Once you open that fire door, we’ll have very little time in here…”

Mac winced. He already knew that. Everyone had to be herded out like cattle, no strays bringing up the rear, no hesitating at the door. And then the ones Sam was preparing had to take their chances. He peered back to see Sam had already begun turning people into living mummies. That was good. “I know,” he finally conceded. “So let’s make this fast. You stand on the right, I’ll go on the left and we’ll usher them through like a squad of paratroopers. Got it?”

Jurgen nodded, his ancestry finally getting the better of him. “Ja…”

MacGyver took hold of the fire door bar and pushed until it gave way to his weight. Immediately, he could feel the heat from the tunnel and the flames now licking at the door frame, eager to get inside.

McDonald smirked strangely, and then jumped, landing safely several yards clear of the train and the fire. He brushed himself off and gestured for more to make the dive.

Mac pointed to the most able-bodied he could find. “You, you and you, let’s go!”

The staff members he’d picked had at least been given some emergency training, and MacGyver hoped they’d go out quickly and without wavering to give everyone else confidence.

His gamble worked.

The three men jumped clear of the fire and rolled effortlessly to join McDonald.

“C’mon!” Jurgen waved his hand at the next group. “No sitting on the fence! Move it!”

More and more jumped clear until there was just Sam’s group and Markham left. There were three women, two older reporters and one guard that looked like he’d been on the Orient Express’s first journey. All of them were swathed in the fire retardant material.

“Just remember,” Mac instructed them. “Take as long a run down the carriage as you can and don’t slow as you reach the open door.” He could see one of the woman grimacing as she seemed to ignore his words in favor of being mesmerized by the blaze now teasing its way into the cabin. Right, she’s first…

Mac gently took the lady photographer’s hand and squeezed it. “Hey, I’m scared of heights, so I try not to look down. Just run at the door and don’t focus on anything but reaching the others you see out there, okay?”

The brunette nodded, gulped, and surprised MacGyver with a sudden full-frontal at the smoke-filled opening. She attacked the jump like she was fighting a Sumo wrestler, and it worked. Her arms flayed around, her legs buckled as she landed, but somehow, the terrified reporter was clear.

A guard helped her up, and she shook a fist in the air with relief and triumph.

MacGyver couldn’t help but smile – there was one person he’d definitely underestimated. The others followed her attempt without question, all making it clear of the train into the rising heat beyond.

It was down to Jurgen, Sam, Markham and Mac.

“You two now…”

Sam looked at his dad and his eye flashed with what looked like annoyance for a second. “Why do you always have to be last?”

Mac didn’t waste time with his words. “A parent shouldn’t outlive his kid, and I don’t intend to today. Carrying Markham is going to weigh me down. I won’t get as far from the train when I jump. It’s simple physics.”

“So, I’ll do it. No father and son argument required…” Jurgen surprised them both with his bold statement.

Mac gaped, and Sam blinked, and in that instant the little German had grabbed the unconscious Markham and had begun his “take off” run.

The flight from the rear of the train was short lived. Jurgen’s legs weren’t long enough to carry him the distance and he dropped perilously close to the flames engulfing the 373’s exterior.

A stray spark danced from the nearby cab and found its way to the German’s trousers. Unlike the others, he hadn’t used any of the train’s retardant material, and his pants instantly caught fire.

To his credit, Jurgen didn’t panic. He scrambled to his feet, Markham held as best he could at arms length away from danger until one of the others was able to take her from him.

Finally, after deadly seconds, Jurgen began to roll over and over on the ground until the flames were out.

MacGyver grimaced. It should have been him taking Markham; he had the longer stride, the better chance…

Sam slapped his dad on the shoulder, breaking him from his reverie. “Dad, we need to get out of here. Like NOW!”

The pair moved back together and took a run at the door side by side. At the last moment, Mac dared to steal a glance sideways, making sure Sam was still with him.

Sam smiled back, and then it was over. They were landing and rolling just as the others had done.

When MacGyver was able to stand, his gaze searched out McDonald and their eyes locked. The Scot still didn’t look happy – and while none of the people from the train were exactly jumping for joy, there was something eerie about McDonald. Creepy is the word you’re looking for, Mac’s mind offered helpfully.

But MacGyver didn’t do, creepy. He stepped closer to McDonald, intent on confronting him, but one of the security staff and Tara moved between the pair, stopping any argument, at least for now.

“There’s something wrong,” the security officer spoke rapidly, gulping in the thick air around them. “The system should be taking away the smoke and keeping the air clean for us, and its not.” He wafted his arm around for effect.

Mac hadn’t really noticed before, but what the man was saying was true. The fire burned bright, and it had already gotten inside the open train. Sparks flew from the overhead power that fed the 373, and it wouldn’t belong before that exploded with the heat too.

The heat – inside the tunnel was getting hot, not just warm. Mac licked his lips and realized he’d soon need to take his shirt off just to bear it. Some of the others in the group already had. How long could the concrete lining of the tunnel last at these temperatures? How long could they last?

MacGyver looked to the front of the Eurostar where the main explosion and impact had been. The cab had been turned into a mass of torn and ragged sheet metal and wiring. The driver hadn’t stood a chance.

But that wasn’t all. Part of the actual tunnel wall and ceiling had been damaged. How deep were they here? Would it stand the pressure now its structural integrity had been compromised?

Tara shook MacGyver’s sleeve, breaking him from his reverie. “What he’s trying to say is that the ventilation system is designed to move smoke in one direction down here, making sure we’ve clean air to breathe while we evacuate, but it’s not working. None of the emergency systems in this section seem to be.”

“What about exits?” Mac was worried, and his tone showed it, even though he tried to hide his emotion.

Tara pointed to the inner wall. “There are exits into the service tunnel every three hundred and seventy five meters, and any smoke that gets in there should be vented elsewhere…”

“Should be?” Sam countered as he joined them.

Tara shrugged. “All we can do is try? It’s our only option right now. And don’t forget the emergency services can reach us within about ten minutes via that shaft, so by the time we get there, the cavalry should be arriving.”

MacGyver nodded, and then coughed as the smoke whirling around them began to irritate his lungs. Not only that, it was starting to hamper his vision too. His eyes were smarting and watery, but he ignored it. “Tara’s right. Let’s get everyone to move back down the tunnel, away from the flames and towards the first fire door. Sam, you take point, I’ll bring up the rear and make sure no one gets left behind.”

Sam nodded and moved towards the main group, explaining the plan and organizing who would carry Jurgen with his burns, and Markham, who now seemed delirious.

Soon the assembly was moving on the tunnel sidewalk at a half decent pace. No one talked; they simply kept their heads down and hurried.

MacGyver watched them from his position at the back. He’d been in many dangerous situations before, but this felt different. Maybe now would be a good time to have words with McDonald.

Mac lengthened his stride, passing two security staff until he was level with the Scot. Any attempt to talk to him, was swiftly brought to a halt however, when the tunnel shaft suddenly shook violently until the few emergency lights that were working began to flicker.

Pipes and conduits around them groaned and some burst, spewing out steam and compressed air.

The ground beneath them shuddered like there had been some bizarre seismic event, and then there was a boom that could have been an aircraft hitting the speed of sound, had they been topside.

MacGyver grabbed at the tunnel wall to steady himself and realized it felt hot, even here. The heat from the original explosion and fire was spreading.

Someone ahead screamed, and Mac could hear Sam trying to calm everyone.

“The tunnel’s collapsing! We’ll all be drowned or crushed!” One of the reporters was panicking, and if the situation wasn’t calmed, it would only spread.

Mac pushed past the rest of the crowd to stand next to Sam and held up a hand. “That wasn’t the tunnel lining giving way, it was another explosion. Trust me, I know…”

“And just how is that?” The reporter wasn’t giving in. “You some kind of terrorist? Maybe you’re behind this? I know you sure ain’t no journalist.”

“He’s ex-U.S. government and if you want to live through this you should listen to him…” It was Jurgen. He was obviously in pain from the injuries to his legs, and he grimaced as he spoke, but he was very sincere as he addressed the crowd.

Everyone stopped mumbling and just waited, and MacGyver realized they were actually waiting for him to take charge now. He shot a glance to MacDonald, who had gone from confident when they’d first met, to jittery, bordering scared. He didn’t strike Mac as someone who usually showed those emotions.

What’s the matter, has his plan backfired?

“Dad, I think that’s the door over there that we’re looking for.” Sam was gesturing into the shadows with a flashlight he’d procured.

Hiding in the gloom was a recess that led to a huge yellow door that was probably the cross-tunnel hatch they needed to escape.

MacGyver carefully made his way over to it and looked at the warning signs that were spattered all over it in both English and French. The hatch was fire rated and pressure resistant, and worked with hydraulics that meant anyone getting in its way when it swung open was likely to get spattered. There was a black and yellow hatched area in front of it that warned as much.

Down either side, more pipes hissed and moaned, but at least none of them had actually burst or split here. To the left, in front of the hatched area was a yellow wheel that if spun left or right obviously opened or closed the door.

“Okay, everyone, stand back, I’m gonna try and open this thing, and we don’t exactly know what’s the other side.”

“The service tunnel I hope,” Tara said almost sarcastically. “Or my training was all a lie.” She rolled her eyes dramatically and Mac began to tug on the circular handle with a small smile of his own. Sometimes a little humor in the middle of danger could take away a whole lot of fear.

The door agreed with him, and with a harsh clang began to swing outwards at a painfully slow pace. Eventually, it was open enough for everyone to slide inside, and Mac stopped turning the handle.

Instantly, McDonald was there, suddenly at the front, and with every intention of being the first through into the service area. MacGyver seized his jacket collar and tugged him harshly back.

“Someone needs to check it out first, and I doubt as a reporter you’re qualified.” The remark was meant to be scathing, and Mac didn’t wait for the Scot to give a retort. He moved through the solid hatch with his flashlight into the secondary shaft beyond.

The tunnel was already lit with emergency lighting, and it surprised MacGyver with its size. There was enough room for two STTS vehicles to run side by side.

The bad news, however, was that the area of tunnel they’d entered was as full of smoke as the one they were leaving. Someone had really done a great job of sabotage. By the look on McDonald’s face as he pushed his way on after Mac, maybe even too good a job.

The man was now genuinely scared, and was that anger flashing across his face too.

Mac didn’t waste time asking because they had another huge problem on their hands – the service tunnel was blocked in both directions. The explosion they’d felt only moments earlier was the most probable cause.

And the tragedy of it didn’t even end there. From the French side, the rubble was dripping water, not heavy yet, but how long the shaft would hold was anyone’s guess. And from the British side, the blast had taken out the two emergency STTS vehicles sent to save them.

One was completely buried in the debris, with only the crushed front panel on view. The other was almost on its side with the chassis slightly raised off the ground, leaving a gap that MacGyver could hunker down and peer through. It was far too small to escape, but it did give hope.

Not that there was any hope for the crew of the STTS. The cab of the vehicle had been crushed by a massive slide of concrete. In fact, the dust was still settling, making the acrid smoke even denser.

Behind him, Mac could hear everyone following him through the cross tunnel hatch, even though he hadn’t beckoned them. Sam joined him first, squirming at the sight of the bizarre cave-ins.

“Whoa…someone didn’t want us getting outta here, did they?”

MacGyver agreed, and he’d had enough of playing the game of charades with McDonald too. He yanked McDonald around, pulling him away from the rest of the group. People were panicked enough.

“This wasn’t part of your plan was it? What’s the matter, your terrorist friends not as good at their job as you thought?” MacGyver was angry, and that didn’t happen very often. But then, meeting someone with no soul and conscience didn’t either. Most bad guys had some modicum of decency, even Murdoc on the odd occasion, but McDonald was colder than ice.

Finally McDonald gave in and shrugged, and as his arm moved back, it rapidly slid under his jacket to reveal a gun. It was a strange looking oddity that MacGyver knew was home made so it could be slipped through a metal detector in pieces. Something similar to weapons made it prisons.

That didn’t make it any less deadly.

“They were supposed to blow the hatch door and keep us in the main tunnel a bit longer. Call it a wee bit of a distraction I wanted. But then, they weren’t supposed to mess up the air flow in there, either. Good help his hard to find these days.” McDonald’s accent changed to a rich Irish lilt, and finally Mac understood why it had sounded wrong, and yet right before.

The crowd finally noticed the weapon and all the chatter from before stopped. They apparently had something new to be afraid of besides the fire.

“Why would a terrorist want to be at the heart of the explosion he planned?” Sam asked, a hint of possible confusion in his voice. “You don’t strike me as the suicidal type?”

McDonald laughed. “I didn’t plan on dying down here. Hell, I didn’t need anyone to die to get what I wanted. We were all supposed to be a nice big diversion that captivated the nation, that’s all. I like to think of myself like the boy who cried wolf…” He sucked down a breath, coughed and the look of annoyance returned to his face. “We were all supposed to get rescued together and then I’d mingle in with the crowds and be gone. The question is, now that you know who and what I am, what can I do with you?”

McDonald waved the gun in an arc, slowly letting it play over the crowd as if he was toying with them. Eventually, the barrel stopped, its tip pointed straight at MacGyver’s chest.