Lock & Load

By Rocket

Episode 9.2

Part Three

 

“Am I in trouble?” Einstein shifted in his seat, ready to run out of the police station.

“Probably. You didn’t fire the gun, but you helped to steal it, and you surely told Jethro how to fire it.” MacGyver ran a hand through his shaggy hair, turning his computer chair to face the young ganger. “But maybe less trouble if you help me out here. You think you can do that?” He watched the kid’s eyes dart to Kate, working at the other side of the office, then to the door. “Don’t worry, Einstein – I won’t let her eat you!”

“I ain’t afraid of no cop!” Einstein bristled and MacGyver hid a smile behind his hand.

“Sure you’re not.” He sat back in his chair. “So, tell me how you fit into all this.” He gestured at the police file on the desk. Einstein glanced at the door again, decided he probably wouldn’t make it if he tried to run, and sighed.

“Jethro, he’s the boss. He decides what we do, who we hit, stuff like that. He mostly chooses what we get ‘cause he knows someone who’ll buy it. No questions, see?” Einstein waited for MacGyver to nod before continuing. “So we’re out cruising, and it’s late, and it’s raining an’ all. And I’m wishing we never went out ‘cause Jethro, he’s driving all kinds of mad an’ I’m thinking we’re coming off the road every time we hit a bend, and I’m gonna buy it in a wreck up in the hills, you know?”

“Uh huh.” MacGyver reached for his notebook and pen.

“So anyways, we come round this bend doing a million miles per hour, and right in front of us there’s this truck. And it’s upside down and there’s trees and mud and sh… stuff around it.” Einstein caught MacGyver’s warning glance. “And Jethro and Lonnie and all, they go to see what the truck’s carrying but me, I go and see if the driver’s dead.

“Was he?” MacGyver turned to a fresh page.

“Nuh-uh. He was moving around and stuff, but like he hit his head. All slow. You know what I mean?” MacGyver, veteran of many concussions, nodded. “So Jethro, he tells me to come look at the tanks all spilling out the back of the truck, and we take some, and a couple of the jetpacks and we get the hell out of there.” Einstein scratched his nose and waited for MacGyver to finish writing.

“What about the driver?” MacGyver watched Einstein shift in his seat and shrug.

“I dunno. I wanted to… something. Call 911 maybe or get him outta the truck, take him back with us. But Jethro, he said we’re leaving, so we left.” He kicked at the table leg, scowling.

“But you didn’t want to leave him, did you?” MacGyver’s voice was gentle.

“No way!” Einstein’s face flushed. “But you gotta do what Jethro says, or he gets mad, and then he…” He tailed off, burrowing deeper into his jacket.

“So what happened when you got the stuff back here?”

“We got the stuff out and Lonnie, he took it all up to his place and I figured out what it was, how it worked and stuff.” Einstein glanced up and frowned at MacGyver’s expression. “Don’t look at me like that - I ain’t called Einstein ‘cause I’m dumb!” MacGyver grinned and pushed the notebook and pen across the desk.

“Show me what you figured out.” He watched Einstein fill the page with formulae and diagrams, his writing neat and his explanation clear. When he’d finished, Einstein looked up, his expression challenging. MacGyver held up his hands.

“You’re right, you’re not dumb. This is pretty advanced stuff. How old are you?”

Einstein shrugged. “You don’t know?”

“I’m twelve. Like it matters…” Einstein kicked the table leg again, his sneaker making a dull thump against the heavy wood.

“OK.” MacGyver looked at Einstein, waiting until the kicking stopped and the boy looked up at him. “You’re smart. You’re really smart. So what happens when you fire it?”

“Once it hits, it sticks. It sticks real fast and sets on pretty much anything it touches. And it gets real hot too. It’s an ex-o-thermic reaction.” Einstein was careful with the word, making sure he got it right. He looked down, picking at his fingernails. “I told him not to aim at his face.” He sniffed.

“You knew what would happen?” MacGyver frowned, recalling that Einstein had found the young ganger’s body, that it had been Einstein who had called it in and then gone back to wait with his dead rival.

“I knew it could. It’s obvious, man – that shit sticks to everything!” Tears glimmered, but Einstein blinked them away. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He don’t listen to nobody.”

“Can you tell me where I can find him?” MacGyver met Einstein’s scared, angry glare calmly. “Before this happens to someone else?” Einstein started kicking the table again, thinking. MacGyver waited, seeing fear and frustration and anger chase across the boy’s face. Eventually, Einstein looked up.

“You’re gonna put me away.” His voice came out smaller than he’d have liked.

“No, no I’m not.” MacGyver sighed, wishing that kids like Einstein didn’t have to grow up in cities like this. “Einstein, please help us. You’re the only one who can stop this from happening again. Help us and I’ll do my best to get you another chance. Deal?” He met Einstein’s suspicious gaze calmly, willing the boy to agree. Einstein sniffed, wiped his nose on his sleeve and then nodded.

“OK.”

* * * *
MacGyver unrolled the map of L.A. and weighed one end down with his knife. He put his keys on the other end and leaned on the table, studying the labyrinth of streets that made up Einstein’s neighbourhood. A shadow fell across the map.

“South side.” Seeley set down his coffee and a roll of paper. “Anything else is too easy to spot from a distance.”

MacGyver nodded. The city, with its tight packed buildings and invisible territory boundaries was very different from where he’d grown up. Mission City was so much smaller, and friendlier, and… easier. Kids like Einstein had a hard time growing up here in the shadows of gang culture. He sighed and shook his head, reaching for the roll of paper Seeley had brought.

“Blueprints?”

“Blueprints.” Seeley moved his coffee and MacGyver unrolled the plans on top of the map.

“This is where Jethro and the gang all live?” He traced the outline of the housing project with his finger.

“Yep. Urban jungle. Kind of reminds me of Kowloon.” Seeley stared at the map, working out the entry points, bottlenecks and places they might end up having a fire fight with the gang. “Now there really is a wretched hive of scum and villainy!”

“So I’m told.” MacGyver grinned and nodded. “What were you doing in Kowloon?”

“Long story.” Seeley grinned back. “So, I reckon we come in on the South side, LAPD secure the area and then we retrieve the equipment, with minimal casualties. Sound good to you?”

MacGyver blinked hard, staring at Seeley in disbelief.

“I... NO! No, that does not sound good to me! If we go in all guns blazing people will get hurt, they will retaliate and before you know it, your ‘minimum casualties’ have turned into maximum carnage! No way!”

“Mac, this is a gang warfare situation.” Seeley folded his arms and watched MacGyver pace the room. “You know they’re armed, right? Probably better than we are! There is no way we are going into that without a little firepower of our own. To do otherwise would be suicide. You do get that, right?”

“I get that it’s a dangerous situation, yes.” MacGyver placed his hands flat on the desk, choosing his words carefully. “But I am not about to make it any more dangerous by taking a small army in there, loaded for bear and expecting ‘minimum casualties’ to be the best possible outcome.” He shook his head. “There has to be a better way.”

“Sometimes there isn’t a better way, Mac.” Seeley sighed, straightening the penknife so that it lined up with the edge of the map. “No matter how much we want there to be one, sometimes there just isn’t. Sometimes the only answer is to shoot first, before they shoot you.” He watched MacGyver shake his head. “These are gangers, Mac. Gangers who’ve already worked out that non-lethal weaponry can be anything but, if you use it just right.”

“That was an accident.” Seeley spun round to see a kid in a beat-up leather jacket sitting under a table at the far side of the room.

“Who’re you? What are you doing in here?” Seeley frowned as the kid shrugged and looked away. MacGyver scrubbed his hands over his face and raked his fingers through his hair, the movement jerky and frustrated.

“Seeley, meet Einstein. Einstein, this is Seeley, we work together. What’re you still doing here?” He beckoned and Einstein crawled out from under the table.

“The detective sent me to sit in the break room, but nobody came for me and I got bored, so I came looking for you.” Einstein turned to look at Seeley. “Jethro , he don’t go round killing people. He’s mean and crazy, but he ain’t no murderer. He just wanted to shake up the Canyon Crawlers, y’know? Make’em have a little respect for us. But he’s no murderer. Got no guns, even. Except now.” Einstein frowned, the memory of waiting with the dead ganger fresh.

Seeley folded his arms, watching Einstein and trying to decide if he was telling the truth.

“Gangers without guns. Seriously?” He watched Einstein flush, anger and embarrassment colouring his face.

“Gotta have money to have guns. You wouldn’t get it.” The boy turned away from Seeley to study the blueprint. He picked at the edge of the paper, looking sideways at MacGyver. “You gonna shoot Jethro?” MacGyver sighed, picking up his knife and letting the blueprint roll up.

“No, I’m not. But he’s in big trouble, Einstein. He killed that boy whether he meant to or not, and he has to answer for that.”

“Is he gonna shoot him?” Einstein shot a glance at Seeley, then looked back at MacGyver.

“I will if he shoots at me!” Seeley snorted and got to his feet. “That gun’s deadly and you know it.” He picked up the blueprint and strode out. MacGyver watched him go.

“Einstein, we have to bring Jethro in. It’s not up to me or up to Seeley how we do that, it’s up to Detective Murphy. We’ll be there to help her, but I can’t promise you Jethro won’t get hurt. If he shoots at the police, they’re going to shoot back.” He folded his map and tucked it into his pocket. When he looked up again, Einstein had gone.

MacGyver crossed the room, looked up and down the corridor and found it empty. He poked his head around the main office door and Kate beckoned to him.

“There you are. Come on, we’re going in now.” She turned away, picking up a bullet proof vest and following a small group of police officers out of the building. MacGyver turned to the desk sergeant.

“A kid. Did you see a kid come through here?” The sergeant shook her head and, with a last glance around the room, MacGyver hurried after Kate.