A
Favour for the Enemy
By
Rocket
Episode
8.9: Part Two
“You.”
The figure moved slightly, opening one eye. A smile ghosted
across the bruised mouth and one bandaged hand lifted
in a languid wave.
“Hello MacGyver.” The voice was no more than
a croak. “Thank you for coming to see me.”
MacGyver shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and
strode towards the bed.
“Explain to me why I’m not calling the police
RIGHT NOW to come and pick you up?!” He spun away,
pacing the length of the room. A cracked and breathy laugh
followed him. “What sick game is this NOW? You pretend
amnesia and you tell the doctors that I’m your best
friend? What the heck are you playing at, Murdoc?”
MacGyver balled his hands into fists and glared at the
man in the bed.
“Don’t you want to know what happened to me,
MacGyver?” Murdoc’s whisper sounded amused.
“I don’t care what happened to you! Whatever
it was, I’m sure you deserved it!”
Murdoc
shifted painfully on the pillows and reached out for a
paper cup of water.
“Interestingly enough, no. Not this time. This –“
He indicated himself with the cup, “This is the
direct result of NOT carrying out a hit. Ironic, isn’t
it?”
Murdoc
drained the cup and set it down, watching MacGyver intently.
MacGyver scowled back at him.
“You’ve got exactly one minute to make this
relevant before I call the cops.” Murdoc nodded.
“Very well. I refused to carry out a hit because
it would have involved the deaths of a group of children
as collateral damage. Knowing the job would be offered
to another HITman, I made an anonymous phone call to the
police and told them about the threat. Do I have your
attention now?”
“OK.” MacGyver studied the smaller man, trying
to decide of he was telling the truth.
“But I wasn’t as careful as I should have
been, and word got back. HIT sent someone to show me the
error of my ways.”
“Looks like they nearly succeeded too.” MacGyver
couldn’t remember when he’d last seen someone
in such a bad state. Murdoc nodded.
“Rumours of my death and all that, eh, MacGyver?”
Murdoc closed his eyes and frowned. “However, as
you can see, I’m temporarily inconvenienced, which
is why I need a favour from you.” He cracked one
eye open to watch MacGyver’s reaction.
For a moment, MacGyver just stared.
“You want a…” He closed his mouth, blinked
and tried again. “You want me. ME, to do YOU a favour.
Wow.” He turned and paced the room. “Wow.
A favour.” MacGyver shook his head. “How much
have your brains been scrambled? You and I have spent
the last however long on opposite sides! You’re
the bad guy! You kill people! For money! You’re…”
MacGyver clenched his fist and waved it at Murdoc. Murdoc
watched him, waiting for him to finish.
MacGyver let out a sigh and dropped his hand down to his
side.
“I don’t even have the words for what you
are, Murdoc.” He sat down in the chair.
Murdoc waited.
“Man, you must be desperate if you’re coming
to me for help.” MacGyver shook his head. “Why
ARE you coming to me for help?”
Murdoc carefully folded the edge of his bedsheet, avoiding
MacGyver’s eyes.
“Because I need your particular set of skills. And…”
“And?” Murdoc bunched the sheet between bandaged
hands.
“And because I don’t have anyone else I can
ask.” He pressed his lips tight together and folded
his hands.
“What makes you think you can ask me?” MacGyver
was still angry, but anything that caused Murdoc to lose
his cool was probably worth investigating…
“Do you remember when we worked together before?”
MacGyver folded his arms.
“Worked together is stretching the truth, don’t
you think?”
Murdoc waved a hand dismissively.
“So you remember how… persistent my work colleagues
can be, yes?”
“I remember. Where is this going, Murdoc?”
Murdoc watched MacGyver, waiting for the penny to drop.
He watched horror dawn in MacGyver’s eyes, and nodded.
“That’s right. The hit is going to go ahead
without me.”
MacGyver blew out a sigh and sat back in his chair. If
Murdoc was right, then he might very well be the only
person in a position to prevent the deaths of innocent
children caught up in some twisted plot to assassinate…
Who? Or was it another of Murdoc’s mad plots to
get to MacGyver himself? Had he walked straight into a
trap? Then again, whoever had attacked him had clearly
meant to kill him, so…
“Tell me about the hit.” MacGyver dropped
his head into his hands. “I can’t believe
I just said that!”
“It seemed
like a straightforward job,” Murdoc settled back
in his bed. “Jerry Overton, elementary school teacher
by day and conspiracy theorist by night, had been digging
around in places he’d have been better leaving alone
and unearthed some very dirty secrets about a big pharmaceutical
company. Going public with this information led to some
very expensive lawsuits and a number of senior management
positions suddenly becoming vacant.” MacGyver nodded,
remembering the story breaking in the news recently.
“Well,
success went to Overton’s head and he carried on
digging. Eventually someone decided that he must be made
to stop. Threats didn’t work and he wound up on
my desk a week or so ago.” Murdoc sighed and shifted
again as if his back was hurting him. “I recommended
a hit at home, no collateral damage, but the client rejected
the proposal. Wanted something loud and messy, something
to send a message to Overton’s conspiracy theorist
friends, you know? And the client suggested a school bomb.”
MacGyver was surprised to see that Murdoc looked sick
at the idea. He waited for the HITman to compose himself
without commenting.
“And I
couldn’t do it.” Murdoc picked at the bandages
on his hand. “But, of course, when I called in the
bomb threat, it got tracked back to me and the HITman
whose paycheck I’d ruined came to thank me in person.
He’ll try again, and he’ll do it before the
Summer Program finishes on July 15th, because the client
has already expressed impatience with how long the job’s
taking.” He smiled at MacGyver, but the smile didn’t
reach his eyes. “So here we are. I know about it,
but can’t prevent it. Now you know about it too.
The question is, what will you do about it?”
MacGyver stood up and crossed to the window, parting the
blinds to peer between the slats. Seeing no snipers on
the surrounding rooftops or suspicious-looking characters
in the parking lot below, he let the blinds snap shut
and turned back to Murdoc.
“This
still sounds like a matter for the police. They have bomb
disposal experts for this kind of thing, you know? Some
of them are really good!” Murdoc flinched, as though
MacGyver’s sarcasm had stung. “So why do you
want me? Which of my ‘particular set of skills’
did you want to exploit?” MacGyver made quote marks
in the air, then shoved his hands back into his pockets
Murdoc frowned,
nettled by MacGyver’s inability to understand.
“Come,
come, MacGyver. The HITman we’re dealing with is
cunning, adaptable and creative. His skill with explosives
rivals mine and I need someone who can not only get into
the school undetected, but also defuse whatever he finds
in there. If my ‘colleague’ sees the bomb
squad pulling up in all their noisy glory, I guarantee
he’ll detonate remotely.” Murdoc lay back
against his pillows, his face grey under the bruises.
“I need you, MacGyver.”
MacGyver studied
the broken man before him. Murdoc was dangerous and crazy,
but he was also sincere, believing totally in whatever
he was doing at the time. And now he was reduced to begging
help from his nemesis.
“Man,
I bet that hurt to say.” Murdoc hunched deeper into
the pillows, but didn’t reply. “OK, Murdoc.
Tell me everything I need to know about this guy.”
*
* * *
After MacGyver left, Murdoc turned his attention to his
room. He had to find a way to escape, no matter that he’s
promised MacGyver that he’d turn himself in once
the bomb had been defused. But how to escape when he couldn’t
move…
Experimentally,
Murdoc tried to wiggle his toes again. The blanket over
his feet twitched slightly in response, and Murdoc grinned
a wide, feral grin.
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