The door clicked shut behind MacGyver and Sam as they stared up at…something.

“Dad?” Sam said, perplexed. “What exactly am I looking at?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” MacGyver admitted as he circled the apparatus in the center of the room.

Two big, industrial plastic barrels swarming with heavy-duty plastic pipes and tubes flanked a metal rack almost as tall as MacGyver. Suspended from the rack was what looked like a giant plastic bag filled with water---and a colony of bright green algae so vivid that it seemed to glow beneath the powerful UV lights shining from the ceiling. Cautiously, MacGyver leaned over one of the plastic barrels, and Sam joined him, peering down at the liquid collected in the bottom.

Sam wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, what is that? It reeks. Smells like alcohol.”

“Not alcohol,” Mac said as he stepped back to take a second look. “Ethanol.”

“Huh?”

“This thing that they’ve got in here is an ethanol generator!”

Puzzled, Sam looked from the contraption to his father and back. “I don’t get it.”

MacGyver paced around as he talked, gesturing animatedly. “There are some strains of Cyanobacteria that produce ethanol as a byproduct of photosynthesis and cellular respiration. These biologists here at the hatchery must have found this particular strain, cultivated it, and figured out a way to harvest the ethanol that the bacteria give off as waste---and then they set up this big generator to produce the stuff in larger amounts.”

“Wait a second. You’re telling me that they’re growing this deadly algae stuff on purpose because it poops out alcohol?!”

Mac rolled his eyes. “Biofuel, technically. But yeah. Something like that.”

Sam unscrewed the lens cap from the camera hanging around his neck. “Well, whatever this generator thing is, I’m taking some photos of it. Could you step back just a little, so you won’t be in the shot?”

“Sure.” MacGyver took just a couple steps back into the shadows, but as the camera flashed, something heavy hit the back of his head and everything went dark.

“Sam?” MacGyver said groggily, looking around in the darkness and hoping that his eyes would adjust. “Sam, where are you?”

“I’m right here, Dad,” Sam groaned, fumbling around until he found Mac’s hand. “I think they must’ve hit us while we were distracted by the algae thing. And my camera’s gone.”

Quickly, Mac checked his pocket. “So is my knife. Where are we? See if you can feel for a light switch anywhere.”

The two of them stood and ran their hands along the cinderblock walls until MacGyver found the switch and flipped it on, illuminating the room with as much light as a dim incandescent bulb can give.

“File cabinets,” Sam said, examining the small space they were confined in, which housed only two file cabinets and the circuit breaker panel---and a lot of dust. “We must be in their records closet or something.”

“While we’re in here, this looks like a good opportunity to start hunting for some answers.”

Sam agreed as he tugged open a file cabinet drawer and started digging through. “This stuff is no help. It’s just all about the fish.”

“There’s nothing in this one either,” MacGyver replied. But then he caught sight of an olive-colored folder attached to the bottom of the drawer with plastic zip ties. Quickly, he dumped out all the other files in the drawer, dropping the stack of Manila files onto the floor. Then he reached for his knife---only to grit his teeth when he remembered that it was missing. But still…he felt almost as if his pocket wasn’t quite empty…

He reached for the very bottom of the pocket, just to be sure…and his fingers touched warm metal.

The padlock key!

Whoever had taken his knife must have overlooked the key nestled deep in the bottom of his jeans pocket. MacGyver used the edge of the key to cut the zip ties before grabbing the folder and flipping through its contents.

“You found something!” Sam exclaimed, looking over Mac’s shoulder.

“Lab reports, design sketches… Phelps and Owens have been working on this ethanol generator for a long time. They’ve even written up a proposal for expanding the project if their prototype turns out to be viable.”

“Hang on, Dad, go back a couple pages. One of them looked different than the rest.”
MacGyver skimmed the page of numbers, eyes widening. “This is it, Sam---the smoking gun. This is what they were trying so hard to hide---why they had to keep their experiments a secret. They’ve been siphoning their state funding for hatchery operations and using the money for their experiments instead.”

“And they forged their ledgers and expense reports to cover it up,” Sam finished.

MacGyver carefully closed the folder, tucking all the papers inside and handing it to Sam. “Hang on to this. I’m going to get us out of this closet.”

He reached into his back pocket and grabbed his wallet. Apparently, unlike the Swiss Army knife, his would-be captors hadn’t seen the wallet as a threat.

Clearly, they didn’t know MacGyver.

He slid his library card out and slipped the corner into the narrow gap between the door and the strike plate, shimmying it against the slanted bolt. A little bending and one good shove, and the door lurched free with a satisfying click.

“Dad: 1. Door: Zero!” Sam said.

“Now let’s get out of here,” said Mac, already stepping towards the hallway that would lead them out.

“Wait a minute, Dad. Do you hear those voices?”

MacGyver froze, listening carefully. “Sounds like the scientists are arguing again. That’s good; it means they won’t be looking for us while we escape with our evidence.”

Sam looked from his father to the other end of the hallway and back. “No way. We’ve got to find out what it is they’re saying. If we want answers---real answers---then this is the only way we’re going to get them. C’mon. Let’s go check it out.”

MacGyver shook his head. “No. It’s not safe. They already attacked us once, and for all we know, they could be arguing over what to do with us. We have what we came for, so now let’s get out. This is a problem for the police.”

“No, this is a lead,” Sam said stubbornly. “We still don’t have enough to go on---not really. What happens if they dismantle that generator thing, and say that the stuff in this folder is just hypothetical or something? It’d be our word against theirs. We need to find out what they’re arguing over, and I need the film that’s in my camera.” Sam hesitated. “Please, Dad? I want to see this through.”

MacGyver scrutinized his son for a long moment. Then he sighed. “Okay. Okay, we’ll go listen in on them. But at the first sign of danger, you run out of here and get to the police as fast as you can. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sam agreed. “Let’s go!”

The two of them followed the sound of the voices until they were able to make out clear pieces of the conversation:

“It’s over, Tyler! We can’t hide this anymore. We have to come clean. Can’t you see how crazy this has all gotten?”

“Come on, Will, we can’t give up now! Not when we’re so close! Our work can change history. You know that. I know it. We can’t let two small-town busybodies stick their noses in where they don’t belong and destroy everything we’ve worked so hard for!”

“We assaulted them, Tyler!”

“Self-defense! They broke in first, remember? We’ll call the police on ‘em, just like we did for those high school kids. Those guys probably have concussions---if they saw anything, they probably have no idea what it was. They’ll dismiss it as a dream. And even if they don’t, nobody will believe their story! We’ll move the generator out of here tonight, and no one will be the wiser.”

“See, I told you,” Sam hissed. “I’ve got to get my camera!”

“Sam, you can’t just rush in there with no plan!” Mac grabbed his son by the shoulder before he could get to the door. “We don’t know if they’re armed and we need the element of surprise. We need to take a second to think this through.”

“Fine,” Sam huffed. “What do you think we should do?”

“Well…” MacGyver licked his lips and scanned their surroundings, hoping for an idea. “Grab that fire extinguisher from the wall over there.”

“Okay. Now what?”

MacGyver lifted the fire extinguisher out of Sam’s hands, hefting it. “Good, it’s brand-new. That means it’s full. Now, you go back into the file room. The circuit breakers are in there, right behind the door.”

“I saw it.”

“Go in there and flip the breaker for this part of the hatchery. When Phelps and Owens run through here to check the breaker---I’ll be waiting for them.”

Sam grinned. “That’s a great idea! Just be careful, Dad.”

“I will. Now, hurry!”

MacGyver readied the fire extinguisher as Sam raced off. After a moment or two, the light shining from beneath the door went dark. The only light came in from the streetlights that shone eerily through the plate glass hallway windows.

“The lights went out! What’s going on?” Phelps’ voice carried through the darkness.
“Probably the breaker. I’ll get it.”

“I’ll come with you---this conversation isn’t over!”

As soon as they stepped through the door, MacGyver aimed the nozzle of the fire extinguisher at them and let it loose on full blast. Whether it was the force of the spray or the sheer surprise that got to them, the result was the same: both scientists fell flat on their rear ends, scrambling to stand and slipping on the messy foam.

Sam made it back just as the lights flickered back on, and he grinned when he saw MacGyver standing over them. “Great job, Dad!”

“Has everyone gone insane? I can’t do this anymore!” Phelps cried.

“Shut up, Will!” Owens snapped. “What’s going on here? What’s the meaning of this? Who are you people anyway?”

“We’re the people who are gonna make sure that you’re held responsible for contaminating Mission City’s water supply,” Sam said. “And we’ve got proof. I’m a journalist, and a good one, and I can make sure that this story makes headlines.”
“Please don’t,” Phelps said, panicked face slicked with sweat. “We--- We---”

“We don’t believe you!” Owens interjected. “You don’t have anything!”

MacGyver confidently tapped the folder in Sam’s hand. “Really? Then what’s this? It sure looks like evidence to me.”

“Not to mention that eventually, I will find that camera, and my photos will tell the whole story about the way you’ve been misusing your funding,” Sam added. “Just give it up and turn yourselves in, and there won’t be any more problems with this fire extinguisher.”

Phelps nodded vigorously. “Yes. I’ll do it. I’ll confess. Just get me out of this---please! I’m in over my head.”

“Will!”

“No, Tyler! They’re right. This is the end of the line. We have to turn ourselves in.” Phelps glanced at MacGyver, hands spread wide in surrender.

“You can’t, I’m telling you!”

“No,” Phelps said. “No, you can’t tell me anything anymore. We cheated the system, and now we’re paying the price. I can’t live with this secrecy and risk! I can’t let this go any farther.”

“And I can’t let you waste my years of work!” Owens launched himself at Phelps, tackling the younger man in a surprising show of strength. His thick fingers wrapped themselves tight around his fellow scientist’s throat.

MacGyver immediately dropped the fire extinguisher, joining Sam in trying to pull the grappling scientists apart, but to no avail. Phelps thrashed on the foam-covered concrete, frantically struggling to tear himself from Owens’ grasp. His motions were growing weaker by the second as Owens threatened to choke the life out of him.

Thinking fast, MacGyver grabbed the fire extinguisher again and smacked Owens in the side. Yelping in pain, the biologist slackened his grip enough for Sam to pull him away and wrestle him to the floor until he gave up the fight.

Mac knelt next to Phelps, checking the man over as he coughed and sucked in lungfuls of air.

“I’ll tell… Anything you…want to know,” Phelps rasped between shaky gasps.
MacGyver nodded slowly. “I have a friend at the police who’d love to hear everything you have to say. He can call a doctor to give you the once-over, too.”

Phelps nodded and focused on breathing until he was able to speak normally.
“You have to understand---we weren’t trying to hurt anyone, certainly not the local ecosystem. The bacteria contamination was a complete accident, and we just couldn’t control it. It’s difficult to keep such large colonies contained. We were only trying to make things better. Just think of it! Ten years from now, or twenty or thirty, commercial airplanes could fly with ethanol-based jet fuel, cheaper and more sustainable than oil. The world’s freshwater supply, conserved because unlike corn, algae can be grown even in the desert. We were just trying to help! …Even if we couldn’t convince anyone to give us official funding. But when Tyler proposed the experiment, I never thought it would go this far. You have to understand.”

“I do understand,” MacGyver answered, “but scientific research has to go through the proper channels. Accidents like what’s happening to the lakes in Mission City right now are the direct result of cheating the system like you did---the system that’s in place because of people like you. Don’t you understand?”

“Yes,” Phelps said finally. “I do now.”

“Well, MacGyver, I have to say, I’m really impressed with this one,” Neil Ryder said as he leaned against the door of the black-and-white parked in front of the police station next to Mac’s Jeep. “One of the biggest cases that we’ve ever had here in Mission City, and it was right underneath us all this time. And nobody ever knew about it except you. Now how about that?”

“Well, we had some pretty good help this time,” Mac replied, slipping on his shades to block the glare of the morning sun. “You know, some of those teenagers are pretty sharp. They’ve really got their fingers on the pulse around here. Especially the seniors on the softball team.”

Neil smiled. “Is that so? Well, I guess I’ll have to keep a closer eye on them, then. No telling what kind of leads they might turn up. Who knows? Maybe one of them will even turn out to be as good as you are, MacGyver.”

“No way!” Sam said stubbornly. “Nobody will ever be as good as my dad.”

Mac smiled. “I wouldn’t say that, Sam. You really held your own out here. I’m proud of you.”

Sam grinned. “Thanks.” Then he added, “And I guess I’ve got a long time before I have to catch up to you.”

“Is that another comment about my age?”

“Not this time,” Sam laughed.

“Well, MacGyver, how are you two planning to finish up your vacation?” Neil asked. “Think you’re going to give fishing another shot?”

“Nah, probably not,” Mac said with shrug. “But I think we do have a special visit to make before we go.”

Neil raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah? Well, don’t let me keep you. Besides, I have to get busy myself. You know how it is---with great cases come great mounds of paperwork.”

MacGyver sighed. “Tell me about it.”

MacGyver pulled his Jeep into the gravel driveway of their last vacation stop and parked the car. He led Sam up to the bright red door and knocked loudly.

A tanned, middle-aged woman with cropped brown hair and no wedding band answered the door. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, Mrs…?”

“Crawford,” she answered suspiciously.

“Mrs. Crawford,” Mac continued, “my name’s MacGyver. I’m from the Phoenix Foundation.”

“The what?”

“The Phoenix Foundation. It’s a non-profit organization.”

“Never heard of it.”

“We’re based in California.”

She frowned, fixing him with an intimidating stare for such a small woman. “Then what are you doing all the way out here in Minnesota?”

He sucked in a breath. Telling this woman that he wanted to thank her daughter for her help in solving a dangerous problem---and in the process explaining that he’d inadvertently encouraged the behaviors that caused her daughter to get arrested---would likely be a challenge, but since it was the truth, MacGyver was prepared to bite the bullet.

Until Sam jumped in: “We’re actually here to talk to your daughter, ma’am. We’d like to offer her an opportunity for a college scholarship. Is she home?”

Immediately, Mrs. Crawford’s face brightened and her entire demeanor changed. “Please, come in. Alissandra! Come downstairs! There’s someone here to see you!”

As the two of them stepped inside, MacGyver glanced at Sam, mouthing, Alissandra?

Sam shrugged. “You did say you thought ‘Alix’ could be short for something.”

Mac nodded. “Either way, we need to work on getting our stories straight before we walk in somewhere and you surprise me!”

“You were struggling, Dad. What’d you want me to do, let you tell the poor lady your whole life story? You’ve got a lot to learn about journalism.”

“And you’ve got a lot to learn about honest troubleshooting.”

“And you’ve both got a lot to learn about not bickering where other people can hear you,” Alix interrupted, bounding down the stairs as she twisted her long brunette ponytail into a pink baseball cap. “What’d you find out? Did you figure out what Dr. Phelps and Dr. Owens were doing? Tell me everything.”

As the three of them settled in on the floral-print couch, MacGyver gave Alix a detailed description of everything that had happened to the fish hatchery, the ethanol generator, and the two biologists.

When he was finished, Alix just shook her head. “Wow. I knew they had to have been doing something big, but---biofuel out of algae? And with stolen money? Wow. That’s some heavy stuff. So they’re going to jail now? What’s gonna happen to them?”

“Hard to say,” MacGyver replied. “They might get a plea deal, or appeal for a lighter sentence. Only time will tell.”

“What about the research?” she asked urgently. “What will happen to all their designs and prototypes and stuff?”

MacGyver shook his head. “To be honest, I don’t know. It’s possible that another scientist could pick it up and start the project going again under better circumstances. You never know.”

Alix eyed him pointedly. “Maybe your Phoenix Foundation could start working on it, huh?”

MacGyver smiled. “Maybe, but I hate to ask Pete for too many favors at once.”

“Who?”

“Pete Thornton, my boss. It’s just a little something that I’m working on. Sam started it, actually. I’ll tell you about it, if you want to call your mom in here for a minute to listen.”

Alix shrugged and poked her head into the other room. “Mama! MacGyver wants to talk to you!”

Mrs. Crawford walked into the room and sat beside her daughter. “Yes?”

MacGyver grinned. “Ma’am, we’ve talked it over and I think that, with your daughter’s intelligence and tenacity, the Phoenix Foundation would just love to offer her a full college scholarship.”

Mrs. Crawford’s hands flew to her mouth. “Are you sure? I--- Well, after Alissandra’s father---things haven’t been--- Well, I just don’t know what to say. A scholarship. That would be---a miracle!”

MacGyver fished a scrap of paper from his jacket pocket and wrote out a telephone number. “You just call this number anytime. Ask for Pete Thornton and tell him that MacGyver sent you.”

Alix beamed and threw her arms around MacGyver first and then Sam. “Are you for real?!”

“Yup, but it comes on one condition,” Mac warned.

“Name it!”

Mac smiled. “Now that the influx of Cyanobacteria has been taken care of, you and your Earth and Space Club need to work on cleaning up what’s left over.”

Alix grinned. “No problem. I’ve already called the others to talk about planting some trees as a natural runoff barrier.”

“Alissandra, you know that part of being grounded means no telephone!” Mrs. Crawford said sharply.

Alix groaned. “But, Mama, I’m already eighteen, and nobody pressed charges, and everything worked out okay! It’s not fair to ground me for life!”

Mrs. Crawford’s expression softened slightly. “Maybe just until you go to college,” she teased. “But no more sneaking around at night. Or any other problems, for that matter.”

MacGyver grinned at the pretty, middle-aged brunette. “Maybe I should give you my personal number too, just in case,” he said with a wink.

Alix and Sam groaned.

“C’mon, Dad, we should get going,” Sam insisted, tugging at Mac’s jacket sleeve.

MacGyver nodded, taking the hint. “I guess Sam’s right. It’s a long way back to Los Angeles. Thanks for everything, ladies.”

As they walked out to the Jeep, MacGyver heaved a sigh. “You know, Sam, I don’t know how I let you get me into these things.”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, you gave me the scholarship idea.”

“So?”

“You know that scholarships are paperwork, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Pete’s gonna kill me.”

The End