The Irishman’s finger ticked on the trigger, and for a moment MacGyver’s life flashed before his eyes. Then, in the time it took to blink, Tara was standing between them, her face as defiant as one of the Light Brigade as they’d made their fateful charge.

McDonald saw the funny side and snickered, but the gesture earned him a slap straight across the right side of his face.

The distraction was all that was needed. Sam sprang at the terrorist, swinging his camera like a bolas on its strap. The Canon smacked McDonald hard on the back of his hand and he was forced to reflexively drop his weapon.

The rest of the crowd pounced, swarming McDonald like he the object of their best tackle. The Irishman screamed, possibly in fear of actually being trampled.

Tara glanced at Mac and smiled. “Good old British rugby scrum,” she joked and picked up McDonald’s gun. She looked at it distastefully and offered it to MacGyver holding the butt with two fingers.

Mac took it, but as the crowd finally broke, he quickly handed it over to one of the train’s security detail. The man stared at it for a second, and Mac remembered that in this country carrying weapons, even for the police and their counterparts wasn’t standard.

The guard took the gun and pointed it at McDonald as Sam dragged him to his feet, somewhat bruised, but in one piece.

“Can you watch him?” Mac asked the man honestly.

The guard nodded, but the home-made pistol shook in his hand. Nevertheless, his face said he might just be angry enough to use it if pushed. Mac wasn’t sure he liked that amount of anger, but he understood it.

Hopefully they wouldn’t be down here much longer to have to play nursemaid to McDonald – if they could find a way through the blockage.

Sam hunkered down as if reading his dad’s mind and peered through the gap. “There’s a light the other side. Maybe another rescue crew?”

Mac took a look, but it was really too hard to tell whether it was emergency lighting filtering through the gap, or light from more STTS vehicles. He listened, but couldn’t hear any voices.

And the service tunnel their side was filling with more and more smoke.

Sam appeared to share his concern. “Dad, can we do anything to get outta here ourselves? I’m not sure I want to wait for someone to come digging.”

Mac scrutinized the collapse. If they tried to just dig their way out from this side it could make things worse. The STTS fire vehicle was wedged in such a way there was a gap below, and a small gap over the top, but neither big enough to climb through. The rubble that held it there looked very delicate, and as he tentatively touched the surface a small section crumbled away.

It was like the truck was held precariously in position by a piece of metal from one of the “pods” it carried. The metal was protruding from its side down into the base of the collapse. It was possible given a little pressure that the metal section might be able to be used as a pivot point to tip the truck into the space above, giving them more room to crawl through. But it was far too unstable for anyone to actually climb into the hole to apply pressure to find out.

“It’s pretty unstable…but if we could just move the STTS up slightly, into the gap above it, we might be able to crawl through.” Mac ran a hand through his soot-stained mullet, but didn’t get chance to ponder the thought.

One of the women reporters had been listening and strutted up to him like a posing peacock. “Crawl through that? Are you crazy? If I sneezed the wrong way that whole thing is going to come down!”

“We can brace it if we can just lift it a little…” Mac spoke quietly, hoping his words inspired the others, rather than terrifying them as the women’s were likely to.

“Mister, I’d rather sit here and choke than climb under that truck!” The reporter stormed off and sat on the ground in a corner, her face a masque of panic.

“She may have a point,” Tara offered more quietly. “How can we lift that thing, it must weigh several tones!”

Mac smiled wanly. “You just have to think outside the box, or in this case outside the fire truck. It’s too dangerous to get in there and move the thing ourselves, so we find something else to do the hard work for us.” He started to look around as Tara scratched her head as if he’d gone mad.

Sam began to search around them too, although he obviously had no actual clue what his dad was looking for.

Mac did a circuit of the tunnel area they were trapped in with Tara in tow and stopped at a water main. He stared at it, thinking, until Tara spoke.

“These provide water to the main tunnel at 410 feet intervals. Not that it will do us much good in here…”

MacGyver didn’t hear her speak. Something had clicked inside his head and he jogged back to the trapped STTS vehicle. The pod on the upper side was still intact and hadn’t been buried by the collapse. He quickly undid the latches and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it contained various hoses, including one that looked about ten inches – the size of the outlet he’d just found.

Sam joined him, apparently as perplexed as Tara. “I thought we were trying to get through the cave-in, not fight the fire?”

“We are,” Mac agreed. “Water can create pressure, and that’s just what we need against that section of metal to move it!”

Sam blinked. “Err, doesn’t the water need to be in something to make that work?”

“Hey, I’m working on it…” MacGyver bit into his bottom lip and then tugged on Sam’s backpack. It had been a present from Pete for Sam to keep his camera equipment safe in. Safe and dry. “Is this water tight?” He asked, examining the bag as he spoke.

“Well, yeah, it’s an OB Boatmaster – the best you can get – fully submersible. But Dad, they’re made to keep water out, not hold it in!”

Mac didn’t see the difference. Before Sam could argue he was tugging the pack off his son’s shoulder and emptying out the contents. After another quick appraisal, Mac decided it just might work. The pack looked like it held forty or fifty liters, though, and that might not be enough to give the required lift once filled.

The bag was to keep his camera safe and dry…and there were a heck of a lot more photojournalists on this trip who probably thought the same of their expensive equipment.

MacGyver held up a hand, attempting to get people’s attention. “Okay folks, has anyone got a watertight bag or hold all like this one for their cameras?”

There was a quiet mumbling amongst the newspaper gurus and two photographers finally stepped forwards. One had a bag similar to Sam’s the other was a slightly larger “dry bag.”

Mac quickly got them to empty them both and began jury-rigging the hose from the mains outlet to each bag. It wasn’t going to be a perfectly watertight connection given what he had to work with, but as long as the flow of water went in faster than it came out, the effect should be good enough.

“So we basically place the bags in the tunnel under the metal section and inflate them, and the pressure hopefully tips the truck jut slightly enough for us to slide through?” Tara seemed to be finally getting the plan. “There’s just one thing? Someone still has to go in there to place the bags in just the right position, or it won’t work?”

MacGyver shrugged. It was his plan, and if anyone was going to risk it, it should be him.

“I’ll do it!” Sam volunteered instantly.

“No way, this is my idea, it should be me that…” Mac was still talking when Sam dived into the gap under the collapse with the three rigged water-tight bags.

MacGyver’s heart skipped when he realized his mistake. Sam was simply too fast for him. Jeez I’m getting slow in my old age. Still, there was no way to get Sam back now. He leaned over, playing the beam of his light into the gap so he could watch Sam’s progress and pray nothing went wrong.

Sam was crawling along on his back with barely enough room to move his limbs. Occasionally, debris would tumble on him like tiny rivulets of doom, but the kid didn’t stop until he reached his goal.

Once he got to the metal segment holding the truck he paused, squeezing his arms further forwards with the bags until he managed to get them in position. He gave a small thumbs up and grinned, and then tried to reverse out.

Going backwards in the confined space was not an easy task, however, and Sam soon realized he was causing more rubble to fall with every push of his legs. He stopped, breathing heavily, probably not from exertion, but from sudden claustrophobia.

MacGyver handed his flashlight to Tara and was in the hole after Sam before anyone could stop him. All he needed to do was grab Sam’s sneakers, then someone in the service tunnel did the same to Mac’s, and everyone pulled.

The three person “snake” emerged from the collapse with three grunts and a good portion of concrete dust.

“Th…thanks,” Sam coughed. “I think you can turn on the water now…”

MacGyver let his heart calm just a second, pondered chewing Sam out, and then thought better of it. Instead he double checked the bags position and then signaled for one of the reporters to turn on the large faucet at the water main.

The hose quickly inflated, zigzagging through the service area and into the cave-in.

Everyone watched, silent, and yet hopeful.

Something in the collapse groaned like metal grinding against metal, and Mac dared to duck down and take a look what was happening. The bags were filling with water, and as they grew, they were pushing on the pod section just as he’d hoped.

The vehicle juddered and began to slowly tip into the space above it, and the movement was so gentle that the concrete and soil around it didn’t budge very far.

Tara slid down next to MacGyver and watched in awe as a whole truck was spun by the mere power of water and a few hold alls. “You really did it!” She gaped.

“We really did it,” MacGyver corrected. “And we still have to shore it up with something before anyone goes through. Don’t forget the truck can swing back just as easily until we fix it in place.”

“Okay, but you already know how?” Tara was smiling.

“The explosion the French side tore up some track sections.” Mac agreed. “I’m hoping they’re the right size to wedge inside the collapse and hold the truck. The water alone won’t do it forever…”

Tara nodded and then trotted off back to the others. Mac opened his mouth to ask what she was up to, but he soon realized she was organizing a work party to get the beams and put them in place.

Fifteen minutes later, the STTS vehicle had been secured, and the home-made tunnel was just big enough for them to escape through.

Everyone looked to Mac for what to do next. There was no panicking or arguing who was going out first. They were happy to trust the man who had already saved their lives.

“We should get Jurgen and Markham out first,” Mac suggested. “They need help.”

The group nodded, but then Tara stepped forwards holding up her hand. “You go with them.” she looked directly at MacGyver. “You made all this possible…”

Mac swallowed. It was nice to be appreciated, but he really didn’t feel like he’d done anything special. And, if he was honest, he wanted Sam out of the tunnel and out of danger before anything else. It was a selfish notion he knew, but one any parent would agree with.

“I want Sam to go through with them. It doesn’t matter when I get out. In fact maybe I should go last…”

The guard watching McDonald spoke up, the gun still slightly shaky in his hand. “Your son goes first, then Markham, the German, then you.”

The rest of the crowd murmured their agreement, surprising MacGyver. No one here was thinking of self-preservation anymore. Not even the female reporter who’d grouched at him earlier.

Tara tugged at his arm. “Will you just move? The smoke in here isn’t exactly getting any thinner and frankly, it’s ruining my make-up,” she teased.

Mac took the hint and nodded to Sam who scrambled into the tunnel head first. He was a quarter of the way through when one of bags finally popped, covering him in a deluge of water momentarily. The other two bags followed within seconds.

Sam paused, but the track pieces they’d put in place held the truck, and he was eventually able to maneuver himself around to help drag Markham through. MacGyver followed with Jurgen.

As they reached the other side the collapse, arms appeared in the opening, grabbing them and pulling them clear.

Mac stumbled to his feet to find a British rescue worker looking him up and down.

“You lot must be mad to try and squeeze through that gap! Why didn’t you wait for us to break through?” The man watched as Mac wiped sweat from his brow and shook his head.

“There’s too much smoke. We’d suffocate if we waited. Not to mention I don’t think digging would have been the best option. It’s too unstable the other side.” Mac tried to explain over the sound of two STTS ambulances arriving; shortly followed by two more vehicles he assumed were to evacuate survivors.

“The suppression systems and air movement system in the secondary should be taking the smoke away from you?” The rescuer was confused and distracted as more people began to be pulled from the small opening in the collapse.

Tara came through next and answered him before Mac could. “Nothing is working in there. This wasn’t an accident. It was planned!”

MacGyver nodded. “And the man behind it will be coming through with one of your security staff anytime soon. He needs watching carefully.”

The rescuer’s radio began to scream and he answered topside, for the moment ignoring Mac’s advice. Another tunnel worker started ushering survivors towards the rear two STTS vehicles, and wouldn’t take no for an answer when Mac tried to argue.

“There’s a terrorist in this group! Someone has to listen to me and make sure the police arrest him!” Mac tried to pull away from the man, but was summarily shoved on the STTS so hard he almost tripped. Sam followed, complaining as much as his father.

Before they could climb back off to see what was happening with McDonald, the vehicle began to move.

Tara shook her head and sank into the nearest seat. “Efficient lot, but not exactly good listeners…”

“Will there be someone topside who will listen?” Mac rubbed a hand through his hair. “Because from what McDonald was saying, this wasn’t even the main event…”

* * * *

Eurotunnel Emergency Management Center
Folkestone
Kent

It took twenty minutes before they saw daylight again, and MacGyver counted every one of them. In his mind he couldn’t help but play over and over McDonald’s words.

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…

What exactly had the Irishman meant? Mac was convinced something bigger than the tunnel explosion had been planned, but what and when? If the Eurostar event was a diversion, the main event had to be soon.

The STTS vehicle finally came to rest at a siding and people were quickly ushered off and given blankets and warm mugs of tea. Throngs of helpers in yellow or orange vests were taking names, information, and giving out instructions where to go next.

Surrounding the platform was a circle of armed police officers with snub machine guns. It was these men that drew Mac and Sam’s attention.

MacGyver headed for a cop he noted was a sergeant and hoped the man would listen. “Excuse me, officer? I have some information about what happened on the train. It’s urgent. Is there anyone here from Scotland Yard yet?”

The cop’s small moustache quivered before he answered as if he was thinking. “I’m sorry, sir, you’ll have to wait on the platform until my superior arrives.”

Sam apparently couldn’t believe his ears. He waved back towards the tunnel. “There was an I.R.A. man down there, and one of your rescue vehicles is about to bring him here. You have to arrest him!”

The sergeant’s hand flexed on the Heckler and Koch he carried, as if he was suppressing his irritation. “Young man, I think I’m the one wearing the uniform here. Now if you’ll just step back with the others before things have to get unpleasant…”

MacGyver took Sam’s arm and led him back into the crowds. The cop was following an explicit instruction, that was obvious, and any hope of trying to talk to him until Scotland Yard or indeed MI5 arrived on the scene was going to be pointless.

“Dad, why won’t he listen?” Sam dropped down onto a bench and fiddled with his camera, his apparent annoyance filtering out through his hands.

“They have procedure,” Mac sighed. “For all they know we could be the bad guys. You have to understand their point of view. But in the meantime, McDonald’s people could be finishing off what they started…”

Sam looked up expectantly. “So what do we do? We can’t just sit here drinking tea!”

MacGyver agreed. First they needed to get away from the armed police, and then they needed to find out just who McDonald really was. His real identity just might lead them to his next objective. “We need to identify McDonald…” he offered up his thoughts. “You got a picture of him in that?” Mac nodded to Sam’s camera.

Sam grinned back. “More than one, but I need a dark room to develop them, and it’s not like we have access to any mug shots once I have.”

Mac already had an idea who might be able to name the Irishman, and maybe even help with the dark room problem. First, they needed access to a phone. He looked around, but there was nothing on the platform that resembled a booth, and no familiar red phone boxes as far as the eye could see.

Just get off the siding; there’ll be one on a sidewalk somewhere…

Before Mac could actual figure out a way to escape, the sergeant they’d spoken to earlier jumped into life, talking frantically into the radio clipped to his shoulder. He ushered several of the armed officers over to the edge of the first STTS vehicle and began to brief them.

The cop’s words were straight to the point and spoken quietly, but it was obvious there was a big problem. He glanced awkwardly at MacGyver, and Mac realized what was going down probably had something to do with McDonald.

Seconds later the officers jogged off down the track back the way the first STTS vehicle had come – despite the second one being due to arrive.

Tara pushed her way through the people on the platform and nodded towards the police as they vanished over the horizon. “I overheard a little. The second STTS has stopped halfway here. There were reports of gunfire…”

“McDonald’s escaped?” Sam looked at his dad expectantly. “Now what do we do?”

Both Tara and MacGyver answered in unison. “We stop him!”

Mac turned to Tara. “Can you keep the cops that are still here busy while me and Sam make a run for it? I have a friend that might be able to help stop McDonald at whatever he’s up to, but I need to get to a phone.”

Tara smirked. “I do a great girl in distress,” she cooed, then strutted over to the nearest cop.

Within seconds, she was babbling so frenetically at the man that he was forced to call over a colleague. That left a gap in the perimeter for Mac and Sam to escape.

MacGyver edged to the front of the siding and looked around. No one seemed to care what he was doing. He carefully dropped down by the nose of the STTS truck and waited for Sam to follow.

Using the truck for cover, they moved back away from the remaining cops and then made a run for it across the tracks into a large hedge. It was prickly, but Mac ignored the thorns, focusing on the mesh fence beyond.

He glanced back at Sam, took a run at the barrier and was over. Sam joined him moments later, his camera swinging wildly around his neck.

“Now what? You realize we just might have made ourselves fugitives?” Sam’s expression said he wasn’t sure he liked the idea.

Mac slapped Sam on shoulder. “We find one of those red phone booths they have here, and we call a guy who is already a fugitive…or would be, if anyone knew he was still alive…”

Sam’s brow furrowed. “Did you take a bump on the head back in that tunnel?” He half-teased.

* * * *

MacGyver felt like he’d stepped from the phone booth one moment, and was hearing the screeching of tires on asphalt the next. He looked up to see a Jaguar XJS careering around a corner at about three times the local speed limit.

The soft top skidded to a halt leaving a trail of rubber behind it and the driver chuckled heartily at Mac’s pained expression.

“Sam, meet a friend of mine. This is Paul Watkins…” Mac nodded towards the still grinning driver. “Paul, this is my son, Sam.”

Sam held out a hand, but Watkins merely nodded his greeting and pushed open the front door. “Nice to meet you, Sam. Now get in and let’s get moving. It won’t take the Tunnel security that long to find out you two are missing, and that’s going to give Scotland Yard’s boys a very wrong impression.”

MacGyver noted Watkins was as abrupt as ever, but what he was saying was true. Ironically, they could easily be suspects. He ushered Sam in the back and then took the front seat next to the ex-S.A.S. man.

Before his body had touched the leather seat, the car lurched forwards and was once again speeding through the narrow city streets.

“So you think this McDonald character is I.R.A?” Watkins asked, fishtailing around a very British roundabout so fast it earned him several hoots from other driver’s horns.

“I’m betting on it,” MacGyver confirmed, holding onto the dash to steady himself as they bounced off a curb and into inner London traffic. “If you can get us a dark room, Sam can develop the film in his camera and maybe we can identify him. I was kinda hoping he might be someone you know?”

“Aye, I’ve been involved with those people a few times,” Watkins scowled. “Didn’t end pretty…” He swerved to miss a Honda Civic then spun the steering wheel so hard the Jaguar almost slid sideways into an alley.

Watkins hit the brakes hard, stuck the car in park and was out on the pavement in seconds. He looked at his two friends expectantly. “Well don’t sit in there all day! The police will be looking for it by now…”

Mac clambered out, followed by Sam, who looked at the car incredulously and then back to Watkins. “You stole it?!” Sam glanced at his dad. “Are you sure you two are friends?”

Watkins found the exchange amusing. “Well you don’t think I could actually afford a car like that? Not to mention I wouldn’t be seen dead in one. Besides, I like to think of it as borrowing.” He winked at Mac and then waved them to follow him.

A few hundred yards from where he’d parked, there was a locked entrance marked “The Sun – staff only.” Watkins pulled a small pouch from his pocket, pulled out a couple of tools and had the lock open two seconds later.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Great, now we’re breaking into a national newspaper. Can this get any worse?”

Watkins face grew grim. “Depending who McDonald really is, it can get a whole lot worse son, trust me.”

* * * *

While Sam did his work in the newspaper darkroom, MacGyver filled Watkins in on what had happened in the tunnel. And while Mac had seen his fair share of terrorism over the years, he had to admit that this really was the ex-government man’s territory.

Watkins in turn wasn’t surprised by what had happened. It had only been a few months since the mortar attacks on Heathrow Airport, and while the situation in Ireland was getting better, there would always be extremists.

Mac glanced over his shoulder, worried as several office workers milled around them, seemingly unsuspicious that they were hanging around near the darkroom. “How do you get away with this?” He eventually couldn’t resist asking.

Watkins smirked and pulled out and I.D. badge that said records department. “Well, it helps that I work here part time. Even ex-agents need to live somehow, you daft bugger!”

“So you didn’t really pick the lock back in the alley?” Mac raised a brow.

“Nah, just mucking about seeing as your kid was along for the ride. I did borrow the Jag, but the owner knows.” Watkins eyes twinkled. “She’s a pretty lass, I can tell you…”

Mac held up a hand and his own eyes couldn’t help but sparkle. “I don’t think I want to know!”

The door to the darkroom opened, saving MacGyver from any lurid details Watkins might have given otherwise. Sam exited a few moments later with several photographs in his right hand, and his empty camera in the other.

“Here we go.” He passed the images to Watkins first. “This is the guy. Just looking at him gives me the creeps now I know what he did back there.”

Watkins grabbed the pictures and rifled through them like he was counting a wad of notes, his mirthful features instantly changing to something very serious. “I know him alright,” he confirmed. “His name’s Ryan Davy, and he’s a pretty evil ba..” He cut himself short, wincing apologetically at Mac.

MacGyver got the picture. “Any idea why the Tunnel business would just be a decoy? I mean what could he be after that’s even bigger than that? He could have caused mass destruction and death there, but he used it to cover something else? What?”

Watkins bit into his lip. “You said he’d had help down there?”

“Yeah, he wasn’t too pleased that they’d messed up, either.” Mac thought about Davy’s face when he’d realized the service tunnel had been blocked by accident.

“I’m betting part of that help came from his younger brother.” Watkins tossed the pictures down on a nearby desk. “And he lives right here in London. C’mon, let’s go ruffle a few feathers and see what happens.”

Sam looked at his dad. “We’re not going in the stolen car again? I so don’t wanna get arrested my first time in England.”

“Nah,” Watkins answered before Mac could speak. “We’ll take my wheels this time. I think you’ll appreciate them more.”

Sam glanced at MacGyver with an expression that suggested he wasn’t so sure.

But then again, knowing Watkins as he did, Mac wasn’t sure either.

* * * *

True to his word, Watkins had produced a vehicle more to MacGyver’s taste, although with four wheels, it wasn’t exactly Sam’s. The 1954 Land Rover looked like a barn find, complete with torn seats and multi-colored paintwork, but under the hood, was a V8 that had most definitely not been installed from new.

As Watkins bounced the 4x4 around the city streets, it growled like a prowling beast. “What do you think to the old gal? Bit more me, I reckon?”

“Oh it’s very you,” Sam couldn’t resist. “But what about Davy’s brother? If he’s in on this whole thing, I doubt we’re gonna find him at home?”

“Aye, but he’s dating a lass that models here in town – lives with her. I reckon we can find her, and from all accounts, she has a very big mouth.” Watkins pulled the Landy into a tiny space and killed the ignition. He nodded to a building that had obviously once been an old warehouse, but had been converted into waterfront apartments. “She’s on the second floor. Name’s Mandy.” He glanced in the side mirror as he spoke, apparently reflexively checking for any tails.

Mac looked over his shoulder. “Sam, stay here and keep a lookout for Davy or anyone that looks suspicious. We’ll go talk to the girl.”

Sam nodded, and Mac and Watkins climbed out of the ancient truck, warily making their way to the main entrance to the apartments. There was the usual buzzer system in place, but Watkins shook his head when MacGyver reached up to use it.

“I’ll get us in…” Watkins pulled out his lock-picking kit, and this time really used it on the high-Tec security door. He was in faster than if they’d had a key. “Apartment four,” he whispered as they took the stairs two at a time.

Mac nodded and took point, reaching Mandy’s dwelling in just two minutes. He paused at the top of the steps and swallowed. The door to the model’s home was ajar. He signaled to Watkins, who quickly slid a hand under his jacket and retrieved his signature Sig Sauer.

MacGyver winced, but didn’t try to talk Watkins out of the weapon. That would waste precious time they probably didn’t have. Instead, he dodged across the stairwell and positioned himself to the left of the open door. Watkins took the right and they both stopped, taking time to listen before their full-frontal.

The apartment was silent.

Mac nodded to Watkins and then raced at the door, kicking it wide as they dived inside, both rolling to the left and right across the floor and then back up again into crouched defensive positions.

After a second, Watkins lowered his gun.

Mandy was slouched across the couch, her body wet with blood from a vicious wound to her throat.

MacGyver checked for a pulse, but found none. The body was still warm, her eyes staring wildly as if she’d been surprised and shocked by what had happened to her.

The sight turned the troubleshooter cold. Either Davy or his brother had done this to keep their secret. What could be worth it? He looked up to see Watkins pulling back a curtain to reveal an open window that led to a fire escape outside.

Watkins frame stiffened and he suddenly re-entered “attack mode.” The Sauer was back in his grasp, and before Mac could ask him not to, he’d let off two rounds at someone outside.

“Paul! What the…” Mac sped over to the window as Watkins turned.

“It’s Ryan and his brother! There heading for the car park out back!” Watkins jumped through the open window and began sliding down the fire escape. “Get the car and meet me out there!”

MacGyver didn’t hesitate, the Davy’s had to be stopped, and this could be their only chance. He turned tail, scooting back down the apartment block’s stairs three and four at a time, because with Davy on the loose, hundreds of lives might depend on what he did next.