Mean Streets

By Rocket

Episode 9.9

Part Three

Frog stopped, nose quivering. He gave a loud bark and set off, almost pulling Billy over.

“Got it! Come on!” Billy ran after him, with MacGyver a pace behind.
“Don’t let go of that leash!” MacGyver shed his long, flapping ‘Grazer’ coat and ran.

Frog led them through an industrial area, past a train yard and then on into a suburb MacGyver wasn’t familiar with. He lost the trail on a side road where a burst water pipe cascaded across the street, but picked it up again on the far side of the flood. Billy puffed along behind, keeping a firm grip on Frog’s lead. If he got away now, they might not find him again.

Frog stopped outside a house halfway down a row of identical ones, sniffed around and came back to the same spot before sitting down. The van was parked in the driveway. Coaxing Frog to his feet again, Billy and MacGyver continued down the street, doubling back down an alley and stopping at the back of the house’s yard.
From the shelter of some overgrown bushes, they watched the house. The faint sound of a television reached them, but all the curtains were drawn and no-one came out or went in. They were just about to leave when the van pulled in to the driveway and the two gangers got out. Their angry voices were loud, and Billy and MacGyver ducked down low as they came around to the back of the house. The gangers climbed up the back steps and the door swung shut behind them, muffling their voices. MacGyver and Billy exchanged a nod and crept away.

* * * *
“Start over.” Detective Kate put her coffee mug down exactly on top of a previous coffee ring and stared at MacGyver.

“That’s the whole story.” On the other side of the desk, MacGyver resisted the temptation to move his chair back, away from her steely gaze.

“I heard it. I’m still working on believing it.” Kate picked up a pen and opened her notebook. “Start over. You heard about homeless people being kidnapped, you told me about it, there wasn’t enough for me to go on, and I very clearly told you not to go playing vigilante with a bunch of street people. Then what?”

“Then I came up with a plan to track the kidnappers with minimum risk to the street people living under the bridge.” MacGyver leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

“But you didn’t know if the kidnappers were armed, did you?” Kate leaned forwards.
“They’re kidnappers, not killers, Kate.” MacGyver ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “They want the street people alive.”

“But you didn’t know for sure.” Kate watched MacGyver shake his head. “And you do understand that your little aniseed trick could have gone badly wrong if they had been armed, right?”

“Yes, I do.” MacGyver nodded, holding up his hands. “But I directed the kidnappers’ attention away from the homeless people and on to me and Billy.”

“Billy?” Kate poised her pen over the paper.

“Billy Colton. He’s a friend and he can look after himself.” MacGyver watched Kate’s eyes narrow.

“Some friend. I’m familiar with the name.” She made a note on the pad and then put the pen down. “So now we have a bounty hunter in the mix. Beautiful.” She rubbed her eyes, looking tired, and rested her elbows on her desk. “What am I going to do with you, Mac? You ignore my orders, you put yourself – and others – in danger and-“ She held up a finger as MacGyver opened his mouth to protest, “- And every now and again, you come to me with some far-fetched story that leads to a major bust for LAPD.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “One day your crazy luck is going to run out, Mac, but I guess it isn’t today.” She opened her eyes again and picked up her pen. “Tell me again where these scumbags are?”

* * * *
“You two – stay in the van!” Kate’s expression dared MacGyver to argue, but he nodded meekly. Beside him, Leonard nodded too. He’d been allowed to use the showers at the police station and, dressed in some spares from the station lost property box, full of police canteen food and with his long hair combed out and tied back, he looked completely different. He’d been brave enough to give Kate an account of MacGyver’s plan to track the kidnappers, pointing out how MacGyver had tried really hard to keep the street people safe, and when MacGyver had wanted him to stay with Billy and Doc at the Mission, he’d refused, telling them he owed it to Jose to go with the police and rescue him. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his new coat and wondered what else he might be brave enough to do.

MacGyver looked at the house. It looked too ordinary to be the centre of a kidnap ring. The curtains were still drawn, but otherwise the house was identical to its neighbours.

“They’ve been in there a long time.” Leonard joined MacGyver in looking out of the van windows.

“Yeah, they have.” MacGyver checked his watch and glanced at the house again, his expression betraying his desire to go and check.

“She told us to stay here.” Leonard cast a nervous look at the van’s driver. The police radio crackled into life and the driver bent towards it, listening.

“They’re making their entry now.” The driver turned in his seat. “Come up here and listen if you like.” MacGyver and Leonard came to the front of the van, crowding close behind the driver to hear the voices in the hiss of static.

“On three.”

“Roger.”

“One. Go! Go! Go!”

A cacophony of shouting followed, and Leonard flinched away from the radio.

“Kitchen cleared.”

“Roger.”

More shouting and the sound of a shot.

“Tango down.”

“Roger. Going to the stairs.”

For a moment the radio was quiet, then there was more shouting and gunfire. Leonard retreated to the back of the van, but MacGyver leaned closer, trying to hear everything.

“Officer down! Officer down!”

“He’s going out the back! O’Leary, he’s coming to you!”

“Officer down? Who?” MacGyver reached out for the radio but the driver stopped him.
“Mac, they got this. Let them do their job, OK?” He turned further in the seat to meet MacGyver’s eye. “Unless they ask for an ambulance, we don’t do anything. Got it? He waited until MacGyver nodded before settling back in his seat. MacGyver continued to watch out of the window, saw a flash of movement between the houses and leaped out before the driver could stop him. He raced across the road, skidding to a halt and ducking behind a car as a shot rang out. Just for a moment, he saw the shooter’s face, and then the man was gone. He waited another moment, then looked around the end of the car, but the street was empty. Frustrated, he returned to the police van.

“Damnit, you’re supposed to stay in here! I’m responsible for you!” The driver frowned at him as he pulled the doors shut.

“I lost him.” MacGyver ignored the frown. “What’s happening?” Muttering under his breath, the driver sat back down and turned the radio up.

“Secured. One more upstairs.”

“Dammit, he’s gone!”

“Found them!”

“Upstairs cleared. Is that locked?”

“Yeah. Breach it.”

“Kate, you OK?”

“Fine. Scumbag just grazed me.” She sounded more angry than hurt.

MacGyver let out the breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

“Clear the door!” there was a thump, and the sound of splintering wood.

“Six in here. Five standing, one injured.”

“Jose? Is he alive?” Leonard reappeared at MacGyver’s shoulder.

“Sure sounds like it.” MacGyver moved over to give him more room.

“Jones, get us a stretcher in here, would you?” The radio crackled into life again.

“That’s our cue.” The driver unbuckled his seatbelt.

“We got this.” Without waiting for permission, Leonard grabbed a roll of canvas from under the front seat and leaped out of the back of the van, with MacGyver right behind him.

“Get back here!” Officer Jones stepped out of the van, but Leonard and MacGyver were already running for the house. Jones got back into the van, shaking his head. “Boy, am I going to catch it hot off Murphy!” he thumbed the radio mic. “Two coming in with a stretcher – it’s Mac and his sidekick…” he took his thumb off the button, screwed his face up and waited for Kate to reply.

* * * *
From the shadows between two nearby houses, one escaped kidnapper watched the drama unfold. He had shot at the blonde officer and then dived out of the open door, rolling on landing and plunging into the shrubbery with police bullets whining around him. He’d been leaving the scene as stealthily as possible, but the tall guy who’d chased him had seen him, so he’d have to either lie low or leave town for a while. It would be too chancy to continue rounding up warm bodies for his boss too, which was a shame. Grabbing bums off the street had been lucrative and easy, but he wasn’t stupid, and to carry on now would be to take a big risk on getting caught.
He flattened himself against the house wall and chanced a look around the corner. One bum was being carried out on a stretcher by officers and… by two civilians, one of whom was the man who’d chased him. Not good.

The officer he’d shot came out next, holding a bloodied cloth to her arm. She looked like she’d be OK, which was a pity. She strode up to the taller of the two civilians and appeared to be telling him off, though he was too far away to hear her words.

He decided to go to his contact straight away, pull out of this agreement and use the money he’d already earned to take a vacation somewhere, to allow the heat to die down. It didn’t occur to him to be concerned about the other gangers captured today, sure that they were too much in awe of his reputation, of what he might do to them and their families to give him up. The other gangs collecting bums would take his share of the action, but that couldn’t be helped.

His contact would be mad, but he’d get over it.

Hopefully…

He watched for a moment longer, seeing the other civilian fussing over the man on the stretcher, seeing the blonde officer talking to the tall man and seeing the rest of the officers helping the bums into the van. They drove away, leaving an officer on guard over the scene, and the street was quiet again.

* * * *
“No.” The man in the suit frowned. “No, I say when you stop. We had an agreement, Mr. Sundance.” His voice conveyed his contempt for the ganger’s choice of name. He looked out of place in the nightclub in his designer suit and handmade shoes. “You will continue to supply what I want.”

“I can’t, I…” Sundance swallowed. His plan had sounded so good, so easy, but the Suit scared the life out of him and now he felt as though he was drowning.

“You’ll what? The Suit shook his head, sounding amused. “Mr. Sundance, what you should be concerned about is the possibility of a worse fate.” He walked across the room, his hands folded behind his back. The gangers in the club watched him pace, turn and lean his hands on the table in front of Sundance. “This world is divided into two kinds of people, Sundance. Predators, like me, and prey, like those you supply to me. If you no longer have the heart of a predator for me, then you are prey. And I always have a use for more prey.” He patted Sundance on the cheek and then turned away. “If the civilian saw you, you must deal with him.” The Suit’s voice was patient, as if explaining something to a small child. “That’s not so hard, is it?”

“No.” Sundance could feel sweat trickling down his back.

“Do you know where he is now?” the Suit asked.

“No.” Sundance licked dry lips.

“Do you know who he is?” Now the suit turned to face him.

“No, but he’s real tall, like six foot three, and he’s got real messy hair. Kind of like a blond version of Dr Webber from General Hospital.” Sundance took a deep breath, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

“The miracle of television. Anyone?” the Suit raised his eyebrows as Sundance showed the picture round the room.

“I know him.” An older ganger in greasy leathers got up off his bar stool. “That’s MacGvyer. Damn fool do-gooder. He’s gotten in the way of a few things over the last few years.”

“There you are.” The Suit nodded to Sundance. “I believe you and your new friend have some business to discuss.” The gentle tone dropped from his voice and Sundance found himself looking into pitiless, dark eyes. “Call me when it’s done.”