A
Favour for the Enemy
By
Rocket
Episode
8.9: Part Three
MacGyver
turned the Jeep into the parking lot of Stevenson Elementary
School. He got out and looked around, pretending he wasn’t
sure he was in the right place, and let his gaze drift
across the surrounding rooftops, the open windows in buildings
overlooking the school, and…
There.
Just a glimpse of a dark figure in an upstairs window,
the flash of light on glass, and then it was gone.
Keeping up his pretence, he studied the piece of paper
in his hand, scratched his head and shrugged. He walked
up the steps, looked through the glass in the main door,
and then went inside.
Inside, the hallway was cool and quiet. MacGyver could
hear children talking and laughing somewhere in the building,
and followed the sound.
Murdoc had been thorough in his description of this particular
HITman’s style. He preferred radio detonators, he
always watched the show from as close as he dared get,
and always, always kept line-of-sight on his targets.
He liked his explosions as loud and messy as possible,
causing maximum damage to property as well as people,
allowing him to slip away in the chaos following detonation.
He planned meticulously and was proud of his ability to
handle very volatile explosives that other HITmen wouldn’t
touch. His choices had occasionally resulted in early
detonation, simply because his bombs were unstable and
easy to trigger accidentally, and he was tolerated only
because he would carry out any job, no matter how terrible,
with equal, clinical efficiency. There was no target he
would refuse, for to him it was all about the artistry
of the explosion, and never the human cost. Murdoc had
smiled thinly and explained that was how this man had
acquired the nickname ‘Rembrandt’.
MacGyver had learned a number of things from that conversation:
First, the HITman would be watching. MacGyver would be
unable to evacuate the children and their teacher from
the school because Rembrandt would see them start to leave
and detonate the bomb.
Second, MacGyver could not be seen entering the classroom
because Rembrandt would see him and probably detonate
the bomb.
Third, the bomb was probably very large, or made using
a very powerful explosive. Murdoc had told him that Rembrandt
often used TATP, liking the amount of damage that could
be caused by a relatively small amount and the delicacy
of touch required to use it without blowing yourself up
in the process. He also often attached canisters of nails
or other metal objects to create a deadly cloud of shrapnel.
Even Murdoc had looked queasy, talking about that.
Last, because of the pride Rembrandt took in assembling
his bombs, there were probably dummy wires, redundant
pieces and fail-safes set to make the device more pleasing
to the eye and to stop anyone else from tampering with
its perfection.
MacGyver
reached the end of the hall and flattened himself against
the wall, careful not to let his shadow fall across the
doorway for Rembrandt to see.
How could he contact Jerry Overton without alerting the
bomber?
Could he slip a note under the door? The kids might all
turn to look, Overton would come and pick up the note,
and then… BOOM!
Could he just knock on the door? No-one else was supposed
to be in the building. Rembrandt might get twitchy when
Overton came to answer the door, and then… BOOM!
Could he… The door opened, and a very small child
came out.
Seeing MacGyver, the kid opened her mouth to call out
and MacGyver made frantic shushing gestures. Wide-eyed,
the kid nodded. Closing the door behind her, she leaned
forward and whispered.
“You’re not supposed to be here!”
“I know,” MacGyver whispered back, “But
it’s real important that I get a message to Mr.
Overton. Can you help me?” The kid nodded.
“Thank you,” He smiled at her. “My name’s
MacGyver, what’s yours?” She thought about
this, frowning.
“I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, Mr.
MacGyver.” She thought some more. “What do
you want me to tell Mr. Overton?”
“Just ask him to come talk to me for a minute, OK
honey?”
She nodded, then turned to run off down the corridor.
“Hey!” She turned back at MacGyver’s
panicked whisper. “Where are you going?!”
“To the bathroom. Mr. Overton said I can.”
MacGyver ran a hand through his shaggy hair.
“Can you be quick?” She nodded.
“That’s what my Mom says.” She smiled
at him and ran off down the hall.
MacGyver leant against the wall again, sliding down until
he was crouched out of sight. He closed his eyes and gave
a frustrated sigh.
“I washed my hands.” MacGyver opened his eyes
again to see the kid standing in front of him, hands held
out for inspection.
“Good. That’s good…” MacGyver
forced a smile. “Now go get Mr. Overton, OK?”
Moments
later, a man came to the door. It took him a moment to
spot MacGyver leaning against the wall, but then he stepped
out into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him.
“Chloe told me that someone was here to see me.
Can I help you?” MacGyver took Jerry Overton by
the elbow and led him a little way down the hall.
“Yeah, we have a problem here. My name’s MacGyver,
I work for the Phoenix Foundation.” Overton shook
his head.
“I’ve never heard of them.”
“Doesn’t matter. What’s important is
that there’s a bomb in this building and I’m
here to…” MacGyver shot out a hand and grabbed
Overton’s arm as he turned back to his classroom.
“… to defuse it.”
“Where’s the bomb squad? We need to get the
kids out of here!” Overton struggled against MacGyver’s
grip, eyes wide and frightened.
“Listen! The bomber’s watching the school
from the building opposite. He can’t suspect that
we know or he’ll set it off.” MacGyver waited
until he was sure Overton wasn’t going to raise
the alarm, and then let his arm go. “So we can’t
evacuate, we can’t have the bomb squad turn up and
we can’t have the kids know that anything’s
wrong, or he detonates the bomb.”
Overton swallowed hard, sweat beading on his brow.
“What kind of sicko bombs a school?” MacGyver
shook his head.
“Don’t get me started. Right now, I need to
get into your classroom unnoticed.” Overton took
a deep breath.
“Can I at least get the kids outside? They go out
about now for recess anyway, so that’s not suspicious.
Please…” MacGyver nodded.
“That’s a great idea. As they file out, I’ll
sneak in. Tell them NOT to look at me though, because
if the bomber suspects anything, then…” He
shook his head and Overton paled. “And I need you
to look in all the cupboards and boxes before I do and
find the bomb for me without touching it – I need
to be able to get to it without moving stuff around and
getting seen. Can you do that?” Overton nodded.
“Yes. But why us?”
“Later.” MacGyver turned him round and gave
him a gentle push. “Don’t look scared, don’t
act suspicious and don’t panic the kids. OK?”
Overton cast him a last, terrified glance and went back
into his classroom.
MacGyver crouched down again next to the door and listened.
He heard Overton opening doors, picking things up and
moving stuff around. He heard a sharp intake pf breath
and then Overton’s voice, a little higher and louder
than before.
“OK kids, recess time. Take your snacks with you
and don’t run in the hall.” Overton added
some extra instructions in a low voice and the door opened.
The kids filed out, carefully not looking at MacGyver.
Chloe caught his eye and gave him a tiny smile, then went
back to staring at the kid in front of her. MacGyver crawled
in through the door, hidden by the line of children. He
spotted the cupboard left open, right under the window
and scrambled quickly under the tables towards it. Overton
had pushed a table right up to the cupboard, hoping to
shield MacGyver from view.
The last child left and Overton followed, leaving the
door ajar behind him. MacGyver reached out and carefully
moved the book that Overton had propped up to hide the
bomb from his kids. Placing it on the floor, MacGyver
got his first proper look at the bomb.
“Oh… Man…”
The
bomb was actually quite beautiful. There were a lot of
wires, far more than could possibly be necessary, and
Rembrandt had looped and twisted them together so that
the whole resembled a skeletal butterfly. An enamelled
bowl of white crystals nestled in the middle of the device,
with a painted glass jar, filled with coloured drawing
pins on each side. MacGyver took a deep breath, trying
to remember everything he’d ever known about remote
controlled bombs. Most of his experience had been with
improvised devices far less hi-tech than this. He crawled
as close to the bomb as he could, his head in the cupboard,
and looked around the back of the device.
Set behind the bomb was a child’s watch, wired into
the mechanism. MacGyver traced the wires back into rest
of the device without touching them, and frowned. If the
bomb was on a timer, he daren’t try to remove the
watch for fear of setting it off. Murdoc had said the
Rembrandt rarely used timers, so this could be a dummy
designed to confuse, but still…
There were so many wires, in so many different colours
that MacGyver couldn’t see a place to start. They
looped around the dish, the watch and the jars seemingly
at random, with no clear way to tell which ones were live
and which were there for distraction or decoration. So
he daren’t cut any of the wires.
Resting in the bowl of crystals were two fountain pens,
each with a wire curling out of the end. The wires looped
around the jars and disappeared underneath the device.
MacGyver blinked sweat out of his eyes. These must be
the blasting caps. If he could remove these really carefully,
he might be able to defuse the bomb. He took another deep
breath to steady his nerves and blinked hard as the strong
bleachy smell coming from the crystals made his eyes tear
up.
Bleachy smell.
“Oh, man… Not that!” MacGyver backed
carefully out of the cupboard and frowned. The smell reminded
him of defusing improvised devices in a dozen classified
locations. He remembered the bleachy smell of a particularly
nasty home-made explosive as the last thing a number of
his brothers in arms had reported before…
If the dish of crystals really was TATP, he daren’t
pull the fountain pen blasting caps out either –
even the small movement of the pens could be enough to
set off the bomb.
What could he do?
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