“And that’s not all,” Mac bit his lip. “With how low that guy is flying, if he gets too close, he’ll spot us, even under here.” He looked back over his shoulder, only to see the chopper inching their way. It didn’t look good.

Nikki threw her arms in the air. “Great! What are we supposed to do now? Shrink under one of these boulders like a snake?”

MacGyver sucked down a breath and looked around. There was nothing they could use to fight back, and there was nowhere to hide.

Or was there? His gaze slowly moved upwards until he was staring at the underside of the bridge remains. Cobwebs, their inhabitants, and several rotting timbers glared back at him.

Mac’s expression turned from concern to a cheeky grin, and he pointed upwards. “Nope, we don’t go down,” he offered. “We go up!”

Nikki followed his eyes to the grim shadows of the overpass’ underbelly and frowned. “We what?”

“We climb up there and hang underneath the bridge supports where the wooden beams and poor light will help hide us.” MacGyver began to climb as he spoke, clambering over rocks and using crumbling brickwork to gain a footing. Halfway, he turned and offered a hand to help pull Nikki up.

She took it with a scowl. “What are we, bats now?”

Mac ignored her, reached up, grabbed a beam that looked intact and then swung his legs over it. “Something like that,” he admitted. “Except I’m hoping we don’t need to hang around too long, you know what I’m like with heights…”

Nikki smirked as if the idea was sweet revenge, and then grabbed the adjoining beam, tucking her legs up and out of sight. “That’s what worries me,” she quipped. “I remember what happened last time I tried to climb something with you!”

Two seconds after the words had left her lips, the helicopter swooped down next to the bridge, kicking up clouds of sand and dust. It was so low it was almost touching the desert, and several of the Prickly Pears were torn from their roots and mangled by the rotors.

“You were right,” Nikki whispered as if the Bell’s inhabitants could hear her over the whoosh of the blades and roar of the engine.

Mac cocked his head knowingly. “Heck, it’s what I’d have done if I was chasing someone…”

The helicopter seemed to hover for forever, and for a moment MacGyver worried they’d been spotted anyway, then abruptly it turned tail and sped skywards, heading for another section of desert.

“Well that almost gave me a heart attack,” Nikki groused as she let her legs drop and climbed back down to her perch. “So now what?”

Mac joined her, but took a moment to answer. He was in thinking mode, and sometimes all the information took awhile to assimilate before he came up with a plan – but in the end, it was what he was good at. “Well, we’ve been walking for a few hours; I figure it will be dusk soon, and with any luck the chopper won’t be back again this way now until morning. Once it gets dark, I think we should try and move on. Unless, of course they have heat seeking equipment, then our goose is cooked.”

Nikki huffed. “I don’t think I like that option,” she complained. “Did you really need to mention it?”

MacGyver smiled. He really liked working with Nikki, her total honesty and all-out sass were a breath of fresh air. “C’mon, I think we can start moving now…” He carefully left the safety of the bridge and shielded his eyes, looking into the distance for any signs of the enemy.

The evening sky was waning, turning gradually into darkness that allowed the stars to permeate the sky unhindered. There were no clouds, and no man-made light sources to spoil the thousands of bright sparkling bodies in the heavens.

And thankfully, the horizon was clear of bad guys.

Mac began to walk and noted Nikki had obediently fallen into step beside him, her arms wrapped around her as the temperature began to gradually drop. “It’s kinda beautiful out here, huh?”

Nikki seemed to think about it and her answer was ever-so-slightly derogatory. “You mean the red hot day, the ice cold night, the violent bad guys after our butts, the deadly insects under every rock, the pathetic excuse for clothes we’re wearing…”

Mac held up hand. “Okay, but apart from that?”

Nikki couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh yeah, I must come back to this place for a vacation. If only I knew where “this place” actually is!”

“We’ll figure it out.” MacGyver paused as they began to climb a small rise. The land was becoming less rocky, but did that mean anything? He didn’t mention it to Nikki, but increased his speed until he reached the summit. What he saw below made him sigh with relief.

There was a building silhouetted in the moonlight. It looked derelict in the sparse light, but even derelict buildings could be a haven of untold spoils to Mac. He waved to Nikki to speed up, before hurriedly sliding down the sand the other side so fast he almost rolled to the bottom.

As they grew close, Mac recognized the tumbling structure as an abandoned gas station. There was a road to it of sorts, but it was awash with tumbleweed and potholes, and was obviously as abandoned as the building that sat on it.

Nikki grumbled as she realized their “spoils” wasn’t about to have a working phone or shower. “Great! What are the odds we find a place that hasn’t been used since Billy the Kid was out here!”

MacGyver wasn’t so downtrodden and smiled as they reached the old pumps, their blue, white and red Amoco paint flaking from the desert sun. “This place could still be a great source of information, not to mention a few goodies with the right imagination…” As he spoke he began rummaging behind an old stand that had probably once held newspapers.

Nikki crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “You mean your imagination.” She glanced around. There were several rusted out cars around back, a busted up 50’s pickup by the main shutter door, and several piles of ancient corroding bicycles in various states of decay by the side entrance. “Ooh, I’m tingling with excitement at what we have here,” she mumbled as Mac continued to sort through the bounty without apparently hearing.

Something moaned, catching MacGyver’s attention more than Nikki’s sarcasm, and he looked up to see a torn and faded sunblind flapping in the night wind that had seemingly whipped up from nowhere. They should probably get inside soon, before conditions worsened, but the workshop shutter door, windows, and the main entrance were all boarded up over.

Mac looked at the corroding cars out back and chose a Pontiac to search first. The fenders were missing, along with two of the doors, and the trunk was open, creaking eerily in the breeze.

Careful not to disturb any snakes or other venomous wildlife that might be hiding within, he poked around until he found a small tire iron. Perfect!

A minute later, he’d pried off the wood and they were entering the station through the side door. There was no electricity, and no water supply, but the place would make a good shelter and hideaway for the rest of the night.

“Not exactly the MGM Grand,” Nikki noted, brushing away an oil soaked and very dusty rag from a stool, only to find one of the legs broken. “But I guess I’ll take it…”

“We need light, and for once I don’t have a match,” MacGyver made a face that said he’d let himself down.

Nikki pulled at her gown. “Well, don’t look at me! There’s not exactly room to hide anything in this rag!”

Mac vanished back out into the night without answering, and came back a few seconds later with a handful of twigs. Without explaining, he made a small mound of kindling, and then used the two remaining twigs to rub together Boy Scout style until they were smoking, and eventually burning.

He lit the mound, and then quickly began to search around for something flammable – his tiny fire wasn’t going to last long without some help.

“Jeez, size matters you know, MacGyver? And that thing isn’t going to warm any of the tiny critters around here, never mind us!” Nikki glared at the smoldering heap with what appeared to be a somewhat worried expression.

Mac ignored her. This was a gas station ergo there must be some actual gas somewhere, even if the pumps had been dry some twenty years or more. He sifted through a pile of rags, disturbing a Packrat and discovered an old red fuel can. He whirled it around, and was relieved to hear the sound of liquid hitting the sides. With the rags and the fuel, he could make some old fashioned torches and they’d have light.

Nikki seemed suitably sated as Mac handed her the first of his impromptu lights, and then put more sticks on their small fire, building it into something more suited to their needs. “So, now we can actually see, what next?” She spotted a small pile of tires, dusted off some spider’s webs and sat down.

MacGyver wafted his torch back and forth, the bright orange flame flickering like something from a medieval movie in the darkness. There was a workbench, some rusting tools on a shadow board, and, he noted with a grin, several rolls of duct tape – they were saved!

Without mentioning his find, he pulled up a couple of tires like Nikki had, rigged his torch into the side of the defunct car lift and sat down. “We eat first,” he offered up the cookies he’d stolen from the factory. “Then we figure out our next move. We might be safe here until sunup, but then that chopper will be back and we really have no place else to hide out there.”

Nikki looked at him with what could only be described as an expectant expression, and then raised her left brow. “So what are you going to make to save us this time? You do have a plan, right?” She took a bite of her cookie.

Mac exhaled. He’d been waiting for her to ask that question. “Well, I’ve kinda been building up an idea in my head since we got here…” The thin tin roof above them rattled ominously as the wind outside picked up, making him pause and glance upwards.

Nikki shuddered and clasped her arms around her chest reflexively. “That wind really needs to go, its creeping me out more than the goons chasing us.”

Mac rubbed at the stubble building on his chin and shook his head. “Actually, I was kinda hoping that breeze would pick up a little more, it would really help.”

Nikki scowled and held herself tighter.

MacGyver found it amusing she hadn’t asked him more, but didn’t waste time explaining. If she wanted answers, she’d tell him so. Instead she huddled closer to the crackling fire while he set to work.

First, he moved to the workbench and selected as many of the tools available that weren’t too rusty to use. Then, he jogged back outside to the pile of old bicycles. The cold night air and frigid wind bit into him through the hospital gown and scrubs, but he ignored it, and the tingling in his extremities it caused, focusing on his task.

It took awhile to pick through the rotting bounty, but eventually MacGyver found three suitable wheels. Two of the tires were flat, but that could be dealt with later. Now he needed framework – again the metal was rusted and weak on most of the bikes, and it took twenty painfully cold minutes to find what tubular sections he needed. Luckily, though, one still had an old hand pump on it, and that might be invaluable later.

MacGyver took the frames and wheels inside and set them on the bench, aware that Nikki was silently watching him. Without pausing to chat, he selected some tools, and ventured back out into the frigid night to retrieve the next piece of the puzzle. This one was a little more challenging to salvage, but if there was one thing Mac had, it was patience.

He pulled an old oil drum from near one of the pumps, tucked his wrench and screwdriver into the elastic waist of the scrubs, and then vaulted up on top of the barrel. It wasn’t quite high enough, but with a little stretching on his toes he was able to reach the old canopy that flapped, torn and ragged in the wind. He grabbed the wrench, and with a quick flick of his wrist began to unfasten the frame, and the remaining canopy material until it collapsed in a heap on the floor. Both would be used in his plan.

Mac jumped down, bundled the faded material in his left arm, and took up the section of broken frame in his right. Now he could start to build his “Frankenstein project” and hopefully get them out of their current pickle.

He took the items inside, set them down and looked at all the broken bits and pieces he had to work with, pondering where to start. He could feel Nikki’s eyes boring into his back, watching, waiting to see what he was going to make.

After a moment’s deliberation, he selected the two flat tires. Using the screwdriver, he pried off both the outer tire, then the inner tube. There was no repair kit out here, so he tied a very small knot over each hole and then stretched the tube back down making the knot smaller while keeping the hole covered.

MacGyver, nodded, happy with the impromptu results, and then replaced the tubes and tires onto the rusted rims. It was a little fiddly as the tubes were now a fraction smaller, but he managed it with a satisfied grunt.

Using the pump he’d found earlier, he re-inflated the tires and then stood back to look at them.

“You’re building a three wheeled bike?” Nikki finally couldn’t seem to resist asking.

MacGyver kept it cryptic. “Not exactly…”

Now he had three good wheels, he needed a chassis. It was time for a lot of duct tape, a bit of sawing and a huge prayer. Taking up a tubular section, he began to cut until he had three smaller sections. Using the duct tape, and some old bolts from a bucket he’d found, a triangular shape began to emerge.

Mac set the chassis down on the floor. It was time to give his chariot some wheels. He scratched at his head, and then ran a hand through the front of his mullet. There was no drill to attach the wheels, so what next?

He moved back to the work bench and noticed a set of punches. Selecting the largest, he rolled it over in his palm. It could work – the frame was very light, if he could just get enough weight behind each blow, he might be able to hammer the holes where he needed them.

Picking up an old claw hammer from the bench, he moved to the chassis, marked out the wheel positions with scratches from the pointed tip of the punch, and then began to pound on the punch with everything he had. It took all of his effort, but twenty minutes later, the chassis had two wheels at the back, and one at the front, much like a trike.

“I hate to tell you this,” Nikki began to quip. “But the Hell’s Angels are never going to accept that thing into their fold…” She frowned at it, apparently trying to figure it out. “How does it even move, there are no pedals, no chain, no nothing?”

MacGyver smiled cheekily. “No pedaling required on this beast, it has its own power…kinda…I hope…” He winked, but wouldn’t say more as he continued to work.

“So what if you won’t tell me what you’re up to, can you at least tell me what you think the bad guys are?” Nikki watched the small smoke spire whirling to the ceiling from the fire as she spoke. From her expression, it looked like she was mesmerized by it. “Maybe we can brainstorm some answers while you do your thing?”

“Well, we know Mariotte is involved, and from the evidence back there it looks like Aurix Aeronautical is too. I’m thinking if they’re working together it means sub-standard parts like Mariotte sold before…” MacGyver worked some duct tape around a joint as he talked, tugging at it to test how secure it was.

Nikki shook her head, deep creases furrowing her brow. “Sub-standard when it comes to the space shuttle just won’t cut it!”

“I know,” Mac agreed somberly. “Especially when the shuttle those parts are fitted to is scheduled on a military mission two days from…” He scowled as he realized he’d lost all track of time. “Well, two days from when we crashed the Jeep.”

“From when you crashed the Jeep,” Nikki corrected. “I was just along for the ride.” She sucked down a breath. “But yeah, those drugs messed with my head too. I have no clue what date it is. We could be too late already.”

Mac tugged off another length of tape and cut it with his teeth, working even faster than before. “We need to get out of here fast and warn Pete and the N.A.S.A. guys.”

Nikki nodded. “That’s a given. What I don’t get is why the game with the fake hospital? Why not just take the N.A.S.A. payout for the bad parts and make a run for it?”

“I think the little charade back there was for two reasons. One, like I said before, I think Aurix wanted to know how much you and me had figured out, and if we’d told anyone.” Mac slapped the tape on his creation and patted it down firm. “If N.A.S.A. got wind of the parts being below par they wouldn’t have paid for the order, and that meant A LOT of money being lost by Mariotte and Aurix.”

“But I was just drugged there weren’t any mind games involved,” Nikki pointed out.

MacGyver nodded. “I think the mind games were purely to mess with my head. It was my personal punishment for what happened on Flight 4177. Mariotte is one warped individual. He even puts Murdoc to shame.”

“All this craziness and we didn’t even know or suspect anything!” Nikki pinched her nose. “I really thought that place was squeaky clean.”

“Me too,” Mac admitted, and then paused from his task as something hit him. Something so obvious he should have seen it before if his brain hadn’t been addled with drugs. “You know, now I think about it, there was something! Remember that last day when I’d asked for some data on the quality audits on parts, when they’d arrived in Aurix stores?”

Nikki nodded, but looked puzzled. “Yeah? And?”

“Well I had a headache at the time, I wasn’t thinking straight, hadn’t been for a few days, but the dates on the paperwork hadn’t matched up. The audit date was before the booking in date, which is impossible unless the records were faked!”

“So the parts were never checked?” Nikki asked. “That doesn’t actually make them bad, though, not without proof at least.”

Mac sat back and took a breather. “Maybe they weren’t checked because Mariotte KNEW he was buying faulty goods from the get go. And if that’s true, oh boy…the shuttle is in big trouble.”

“Is there any way to tell what the bad parts will do if the shuttle launches?” Nikki was sitting forwards now, her face a masque of horror. “There has to be a way to stop this mess…”

“Maybe.” MacGyver bit his bottom lip – something he was doing a lot lately because things were getting from bad to dire real quick. “I’d need to get back into Aurix, though and see their records, talk to people, hope there’s some kind of trail. First we need to get outta the desert, though.” He stood up and headed for a glass office door that had seen better days. The bottom panel had been patched over with a nice piece of wood that was just what he was looking for.

Mac pried off the wood using his bare hands and took it over to his creation. It was a little longer than he’d hoped, but it would do. Using the hammer and punch from earlier, he made several crude holes and fastened the plank down with some cable ties. It wasn’t pretty, but it made a workable seating area.

Now it was time to add some “power” to his beast.

Making another hole slightly to the front of the chassis, Mac pushed through another shaft made from bike tubing and attached it to the frame with some more rusty bolts. The shaft stood up vertical from the bodywork like a crazy tubular sentinel.

But MacGyver wasn’t done yet. Selecting another tube from a smaller bicycle, he slotted it inside the first tube and spun it around, making sure anything attached to it would swing 360 degrees at will.

Now for the crowning glory.

Mac took up the section of canopy metal and reattached the material he’d salvaged from it to make a “sail”. Old sections of rope from the garage were fixed in a couple of places so the sail could be steered more easily.

The final task was to secure the canopy remains and sail to the smaller piece of tubing with the last two bolts he could find, and lots more duct tape for good measure.

Nikki stared at the metal monster in disbelief. “Okay…so is it a bike, a surf board or what? And how the heck is that thing going to help us escape?”

MacGyver found the slightly panicked, uncertain tone to her voice amusing. “It’s called a land yacht,” he explained. “And we’re gonna sail out of here on it!”

“Sail?” Nikki’s face said she thought he’d gone mad. “You do know we’re in the desert, not the Atlantic, right?”

MacGyver jerked a thumb to the shutter door and beyond. “Did you notice how much flatter it’s gotten outside? Hardly any rocks? That’s because we’re on an old lake bed, which means it’s perfect to use with this,” he patted the yacht. “And the wind you hate so much is going to get us on the move. I have a feeling we’re in Nevada – and if I’m right, I have an idea which way to go to get us out of this mess.”

Nikki made a harrumphing sound. “Yeah, well you’re not the only one working around here. While you were outside? I did some scouting of my own and we’re definitely in Nevada. There’s some stuff in the office over there that confirms it.”

Mac nodded. It was good to have confirmation that he wasn’t about to steer them into the middle of a desert, or the hands of the bad guys. He glanced back to the side door, noting that the sun was beginning to rise. “It’s time to test out our ride. We need to get moving before that chopper comes back.”

He moved over to the shutter door, pulling on the side chain until it grudgingly began to slide up and open. The metal sections groaned and screamed with the effort, and MacGyver paused and tied up the chain as soon as there was enough room to get the yacht through.

Pushing his creation out into the open, he shaded his eyes against the new dawn and chose a direction, lining up the wheels so that they would be heading the right way, and be catching the prevailing wind.

Nikki padded out after him, arms still folded across her chest. “Is this really gonna work?”

Mac patted the board he’d affixed as a seat. “Why don’t you climb on and find out?”

She looked dubiously at him. “Is this thing safe? I think I need a helmet…” Nikki climbed on anyway, and MacGyver followed, sitting in front of her to steer.

“You know real land yachts can get up to 80MPH with a good wind?” Mac teased.

Nikki looked suitably terrified and quickly wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don’t get any ideas,” she teased back.

“No, ma’am!” Mac couldn’t resist grinning. “Don’t worry, we won’t be going that fast. We don’t have a high enough wind, and our sail would never take it. I am kinda hoping for 40MPH outta this thing though.”

Nikki still wasn’t happy, and grumbled under her breath. “I guess it beats walking…”

Mac nodded and tested out the controls. He had two small tubular shafts coming out each side of the front wheel. He perched his feet on them for a simple steering mechanism – a push to the left or right, the wheel would pivot, and they would move in that direction. Then there was the rope hand controls to maneuver the “mast” for maximum wind speed. Everything seemed in order. “Okay, here we go!” He pushed forwards using his legs until the breeze caught in the sail and they slowly began to move under their own steam.

Nikki’s eyes lit up. “I don’t believe this is working!”

Mac smiled as he worked the sail, pushing his creation to make the most of the warm desert wind. The yacht, complained, the rag tag construction groaning and creaking as it bounced over the odd rock or crack in the lake bed.

Halfway across the flat, a noise broke the idyllic peace, the sound echoing like a fairy tale monster in Mac and Nikki’s ears. Their plan had almost worked, but the chopper was back, and they were like sitting ducks with nowhere to hide, and nothing to fight back with.

“It’s them, isn’t it?” Nikki’s nails bit into MacGyver’s side as she gripped him just that little bit tighter.

He nodded, tugging at the sail ropes in vain, urging more speed from a breeze that could give none. Behind them, he could hear the Bell JetRanger getting closer. Had they been spotted already?

“Mac! Is that a road?” Nikki had dared to let go with her right hand and was pointing furiously to the end of the dry bed. And she was right, a winding, almost invisible desert road ran adjacent to them, and even better, not far from the road was a tunnel burrowed into the rock of the barren hillside. “Can we make it?”

“I’m dang well gonna try!” Mac kicked at the tubes on the front wheel, almost bending them with his weight as he spun the yacht around towards the tunnel. He felt something snap beneath him, and realized some of the corroded bolts he’d used had snapped. Would it hold together long enough with just duct tape to reach the haven of the hillside?

If that chopper gets too close, it won’t matter, the downdraft from the blades will be enough to collapse our sail. If the bad guys don’t try and shoot us first…

They were running parallel with the road now, but there was a mound of sand separating the two. MacGyver licked his lips and looked over his shoulder. The helicopter was closing – they’d definitely been seen. He had no choice now but to take drastic action.

Turning the craft sharply again, he flipped the yacht into the air using the sand bank as a takeoff ramp. It was like a scene from Knight Rider when K.I.T.T. used turbo boost, except they had no turbo, and the director couldn’t shout “cut” if this stunt went wrong.

The yacht seemed to be airborne for minutes, when in reality it was mere seconds. It bounced down onto the asphalt, more of the bolts snapping and some of the tape tearing, but somehow it still had momentum. MacGyver looked over his shoulder again to see Nikki screwing her eyes closed, and he wished he had the luxury.

Some of the tubes he’d used to make his machine had bent as they’d hit the road, and the metal was now rubbing on the rear wheels, throwing the yacht out of control, but thankfully still towards the tunnel mouth.

Bullets bounced off the road and spattered the surrounding sand as the bad guys grew too close for comfort. A hail of machine gun fire ripped through the sail, and then, somehow they were thrown into semi-darkness as the hill swallowed them – at least for a heartbeat.

Nikki opened her eyes and then screamed as the glare of headlights illuminated the tunnel and threatened to engulf them.

The yacht veered, slammed into the concrete of the tunnel wall and then rolled back, coming to rest in front of an ancient bronze Buick. Somehow, the car had managed to stop without hitting them.

MacGyver blinked, looked up through the haze of the car’s lights and realized why. The driver that was climbing from behind the wheel looked around a hundred-years-old and had probably been doing all of 20MPH. That small fact didn’t stop her cussing.

Oblivious to the fact that Mac and Nikki were sitting in a crumpled pile of bullet-ridden parts, she began to wag her finger and reprimand them in a voice so stern she had probably been a judge in another life – or maybe even this one.

“You young scamps think you can come out here and just take over the highway with your homemade junk, well I’m going to call the police!” The aging woman’s silver-grey hair glistened in the wane light, reflections from the tunnel walls making it look almost like she had a halo as she complained. But then, maybe she was an angel, given how she’d come from nowhere and was probably about to save them, even though she didn’t know it yet.

MacGyver scrambled up, brushed himself down and had to smile at the old lady as he helped Nikki from the wreck. “Sorry, ma’am,” he apologized. “I don’t suppose you have a phone in your car? We kind of have an emergency of national proportions to report.” He knew there was little chance the woman would say yes, given her age it was unlikely she’d have such a modern piece of technology hanging around, especially as her car was over thirty years old.

The old lady blinked as if his words were insulting. “‘Course I do! Just ‘cause I look like I belong to Methuselah’s entourage don’t mean I act like it!” She sniffed. “Not to mention my boy works for the telephone company…” She looked around them and shook her head apologetically. “There won’t be a signal in this dang tunnel, though.”

Mac knew their new friend was right. He moved past her, peering at the tunnel mouth. The helicopter was hovering there, as if its inhabitants were sizing up what to do next. The sound of the rotors roared and echoed down the hillside, almost deafening them.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, the Bell vanished. Had they given in because they’d seen the car, or were they simply watching and waiting from a distance for the group to exit the tunnel?

“My name’s Annie Mae,” the old lady introduced herself. “Now what say we get our butts outta here before those guys in the helicopter come back? I’m assuming they really don’t like you folks? The County Sheriff’s not too far away, I just passed him getting breakfast at Big Al’s.”

MacGyver was surprised at Annie’s sudden trust, and her very modern attitude, but he didn’t tell her so in case she decided to cuss at him again. “Sounds good, Ma’am!”

“Call me Annie, or I’ll get cross with ya’ll!” Annie scooted back behind the wheel with shockingly nimble moves and Mac and Nikki struggled to follow as quickly.

Within seconds the Buick was kicking up a dust trail and exiting the tunnel where Mac had entered. The chopper didn’t reappear, and Annie settled into a steady fifty as she handed MacGyver her phone.

Mac took it gratefully and dialed Phoenix while he kept his eyes skywards.

“MacGyver! Where on earth have been? Is Nikki with you? When you went missing and we found your Jeep I thought…we all thought…” Pete’s voice crackled down the line, his words hurried and obviously pained.

MacGyver could tell his old friend had thought the worst, but he had to stop the tirade of words and explain what was going down. “Pete, just hang fire and I’ll tell you what I know, we have to move fast or there’s going to be a disaster!”

Pete stopped talking.

“Listen, Pete, forget me and Nikki and where we’ve been, you have to stop the shuttle launch. I’ll explain everything as soon as we get back to Phoenix, but you HAVE to stop that shuttle!”

The line grew eerily silent and for a moment Mac thought they’d lost the signal. “Pete? Ya there?”

“MacGyver…it’s too late, the shuttle launched yesterday.”

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