The Rainmakers, MacGyver Fic, Epilogue NOW COMPLETE!

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Loved the bit about needing a white knight.

[Lothithil]

((((LadyHawkB))) my loyal fan! *giggles*


The Rainmakers, ch 14
Boy Scout

We got a problem, boys. Dang…

Gantner’s anxious voice answered immediately. “What is it, Mac?”

“Well, the corridor’s caved in ahead here… I don’t think I can make that Bio Lab.” MacGyver spotted something lying in the dirt. He stooped and came up with a woman’s high-heeled shoe. He shook the dirt out of it and examined it, then regarded the floor again. What few tracks he could see led toward the cave-in, but none of them led away. Where did they go?

“Back the other way, MacGyver. There’s a control room – “

As Pete was speaking, a faint metallic ringing sound echoed though the corridor. MacGyver did not turn away; he froze in place and listened. “Hold it a second.”

After a moment the sounds reoccurred… a rhythmic noise, but so faint that it was hard to distinguish exactly where it was coming from. MacGyver moved farther down the blocked corridor and saw that there was a gap between the ceiling and the top of the heap of dirt.

Casting aside caution – but hanging on the shoe he’d found – MacGyver scrambled up the mound of debris. He crawled in as far as he could, but the gap narrowed quickly to a couple of cramped feet of space. He wormed himself forward with elbows and knees until he could go no further, until several grey concrete blocks and a huge metal I-beam blocked his progress. He stopped there and became utterly still, listening.

Gantner’s voice crackled through the silence. “Mac, what’s happening?”

“I’m getting a tapping sound coming from the direction of the lab. I got a pretty big girder in my way here, though.” The rubble groaned and shifted under him; Mac looked around, trying to estimate how much time he might have before the whole ceiling collapsed and squashed him like a pancake.

Things seemed to be stable for the moment, but MacGyver couldn’t be sure how long that would last if he managed to move any of the debris. But first, he needed to be sure he was going in the right direction. Using what he had at hand, he rapped three times on the girder with the heel of the shoe. It made a sharp, loud sound.

“Come on back to me, one more time,” Mac half-prayed, lowering his head to listen hard. Almost instantly, three clear taps came vibrating down the girder in answer. “I got some life down here, boys,” Mac announced gladly.

⌂

After she had calmed down, Charlotte volunteered to take a turn tapping the distress signal. She was still afraid, but she channeled her stress usefully by banging away with the pipe. Each blow seemed to make her feel better.

It was beginning to get uncomfortable to breathe. People had begun to settle down on the floor, leaning back against the cracked walls or against one another. There was no more discussion concerning of the direness of the situation or the odds of being rescued. An atmosphere of anxious interest settled over them, as if waiting to see the result of a particular experiment. Some tried to sleep, others wept quietly into their hands.

When the sharp echoes resounded through the room, Charlotte dropped her pipe, she was so surprised. It clattered noisily on the floor. Everyone had lifted their heads at the sound, but no one spoke; they listened intensely, incredulous hope lighting their dirt- and blood-streaked faces.

Shakily, Charlotte picked up her tool, and taking a deep breath she gave the end of the girder three firm taps, just as she had been doing before. Then she clutched the pipe with both hands and prayed.

“I can hear something!” a woman whispered excitedly. She had been sitting next to the wall nearest the pile of debris. She cradled her injured wrist close and pressed her ear to the wall. “There’s something scratching around up there!”

“Get back! Everyone, move away from the debris!” As a group, the survivors moved across the room and huddled against the far wall. Barbara was no less excited than her peers. She kept up the pressure on Dobbson’s bandage, but laid her arm across his shoulders, giving and receiving comfort. Dobbson smiled with gratitude and patted her hand gently.

Hardly any oxygen was wasted for many long seconds as everyone in the room held their breath and waited.

⌂

Listening to the sounds scraping out of the radio speakers, Gantner managed to withhold his questions; it was obvious that MacGyver was in the middle of a situation and this wasn’t the time to demand explanations.

For the moment, MacGyver was stuck. Colsen was scratching his balding head, staring off into the middle-distance as he spoke, “Ah, MacGyver… the girder. Can you move it?”

“Well, that’d take some doing. It’s wedged in here pretty good.” Mac’s response had been stilted with the sounds of effort. “If I could raise it up about three or four inches, I might be able to swing it to one side . . .”

Gantner looked at Burke and Colsen; they both appeared cool and calm. Burke was leaning into the sounds of MacGyver’s progress. Colsen was constantly flipping through the schematics or riffling through papers, trying to be ready to answer any question or problem that Mac might present.

Gantner felt useless just standing there. He was tremendously nervous, sweating badly, and his mouth was dry. The air conditioning in the control room which had at first felt icy and overpowering now seemed inadequate. He helped himself to a cup from the tray that one of the corpsmen had provided for them, pushing aside the microphone to take a drink.

“What was that sound?” Mac demanded.

Surprised, Gantner responded, “It was me, Mac. Just taking a sip of water.”

“…Water...”

MacGyver’s Voice-Over:
Water was the answer!

I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life as I did getting off of that pile! Using a fire hose as a hydraulic lift was an inspiration, and I didn’t really know why I felt such urgency… I just knew I needed to move fast.

As I cut through the thick material of the hose with my knife, I sent up a small prayer for forgiveness. Defiling fire hoses is something that I never like to do… but they are just so blasted useful!

I didn’t want to think about what would happen if the roof collapsed after I shifted that girder – I’d be trapped inside with whoever had been signaling – but I couldn’t just leave them now that I knew that they were in there, still alive … could I?

The lift was working like a charm! The trick was finding enough leverage as I put my back into the problem…

All three men in the control room became alarmed by the sounds of the grunts and groans coming over the radio, Had the roof collapsed on MacGyver? He sounded as if he were in great pain!

Pete couldn’t stand it anymore. “MacGyver! What are you doing down there?”

“Prayin’ my back doesn’t give out.”

MacGyver strained against the bulk mass or weight of the girder, grimacing as he pushed with his entire body and will. With a tremendous effort that wrung a roar from his throat, the beam finally shifted and then suddenly he was tumbling head-first into the Bio Lab in a slide of dirt and gravel. He couldn’t keep in the grunt of pain as a rock about the size of his head bounced over him.

Adrenaline coursing through his body, MacGyver pushed-up from the dust immediately. He shook off the fall and the bruises as easily as he might brush dirt from his hands.

Even before he had picked himself up his long form from the floor, he looked up at the small crowd of surprised and relieved scientists and said – very matter-of-factly –

“Anybody hurt seriously?”

The crowd of bemused scientists watched MacGyver as he tumbled into the room amid a shower of dirt and rocks. They had expected to see the face of a fireman, dirt-streaked beneath a brightly colored helmet, or perhaps one of their own company’s engineers, offering a hand through an opening carved though the impenetrable wall.

The last thing any of them had expected was to see a tall, youthful man, clad in a flannel shirt with a fishing bag slung over his shoulder, bursting through the wreckage like a stripper out of a cake! They looked at each other for a few seconds, wondering if hypoxia had already damaged their brains.

But the fresh air blowing in through the wide hole now gaping above the debris was no illusion. They breathed it in with deep and grateful gasps.

My God, thought Charlotte, still holding the pipe in her hands, they really did send us a Boy Scout!

~~~tbc

[Fíriel]

The last thing any of them had expected was to see a tall, youthful man, clad in a flannel shirt with a fishing bag slung over his shoulder, bursting through the wreckage like a stripper out of a cake! They looked at each other for a few seconds, wondering if hypoxia had already damaged their brains.

ROTFL!!!!

Awesome imagery, Loth, and a great chapter, as always.

[Lothithil]

(((Fíriel))))
Thanks!!

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

(((Lith)))

My God, thought Charlotte, still holding the pipe in her hands, they really did send us a Boy Scout!

[Lothithil]

The Rainmakers, ch 15
Native Guide

From the moment that she had heard the tapping echo of their imminent rescue, Barbara had been consumed by a desire to get to the surface. She wanted to put the horror of that day behind her, and let the fresh desert air and sunlight wipe away the memories of the missing and the dead from her mind. She had done all she could do, and she had just enough will power and energy left to leave this place and its ghosts behind. She tried not to think about the terrible loss to the scientific community—she couldn’t bring herself even to name him—but deep in her mind she suffered, believing that he was now dead, buried with his brilliant research and unspoken ideas in the ruin of the Kiva.

Then this man had slithered into the room in a rockslide and a cloud of dusty but welcome fresh air, and Barbara was as startled and bemused by his voice as she was by his appearance. He spoke with a Midwestern accent and a matter-of-fact tone that seemed as out of place as a lawnmower on a spaceship.

“Anybody hurt seriously?”

Barbara had been about to ask him if he was all right, but he was already pushing himself up to his knees. He was looking around, taking in every detail of the room and the occupants, while his hands wandered to his belt, bag, and pockets as if searching for missing items.

His eyes swept across her, and Barbara was taken aback at how handsome he was. She blushed profoundly, ducking her chin and trying to focus on Dobbson’s injury to hide her embarrassment. She was annoyed with herself; how could she react like such a schoolgirl—at a time like this!

When she glanced up again, she saw that he was looking at Dobbson, and she realized that he was evaluating the man’s condition—he was clearly the most injured of all the scientists in the group—and she felt a flutter of disappointment.

Which made her even more annoyed with herself.

As MacGyver looked over the group of weary survivors, he noticed one woman in particular. She had striking blond hair, but what caught his attention the most was the fact that compared with the other people in the room, she and the man she was supporting were more disheveled, their clothes noticeably more soiled. They had obviously been through a lot more Hell than anyone else. But they also seemed tougher. The woman wore a determined, almost grim expression, and her face was flushed. MacGyver decided that she must be very relieved to be rescued.

The others were certainly relieved. One of the men came forward with an eager step to answer MacGyver’s question. “Some of us, but we can all walk.”

MacGyver lunged to his feet. “Well, all right! Let’s getcha out of here. One at a time, up through that hole.” He gestured to the pile behind him, eager to get them out of the room in case of further cave-ins. He didn’t relish the idea of having to dig his way out, too. “Make your way to the corridor from there.”

A couple of the scientists scrambled to obey, fear having set flight to motion. They were followed more slowly by the others, the unhurt supporting the injured so that they could make the awkward climb to freedom.

The blond woman assisted her companion, holding a bloodstained cloth to his forehead. “Do you think you can make it up that?” she asked him.

The man smiled at her. “After what we’ve already been through? I expect this will be a piece of cake.” He took the cloth from her hands and tied it around his head, then proceeded to climb up the pile of rubble. One of the more able-bodied men waited at the top to help people through. She didn’t follow immediately, but lingered to lend a helping hand to those who were still shaken and unsteady on their feet.

MacGyver watched them filing out; he would wait until they were all out before he proceeded. “Colsen, you got a whole buncha people comin’ your way. A rope ladder in the elevator shaft oughta get ‘em topside.” Some of the people waiting to evacuate glanced at MacGyver uncertainly before they realized he was talking into a radio.

“We’ll see them out from up here. Thank you!” was Burke’s relieved and grateful answer.

“Well, we got lucky. Let’s just hope it holds, huh?” MacGyver replied.

“Sure you can go on, Mac?” Gantner said.

“Well, unless you got another way to get to Marlow and Steubens. I’m just gettin’ lazy.”

Barbara’s turn had come and she had just begun to scramble up the pile of dirt when she overheard MacGyver speaking. Her desire for escape fled up and out of the hole at the sound of Steuben’s name.

She turned back toward MacGyver, hope smeared on her face along with traces of dirt. “Marlow and Steu – you’re not saying they’re still alive, are you?”

“Yes, ma’am. In a lab on the Third level?”

Barbara’s face lit up with excitement. “I know where! I – I mean, I was just about to join them again in his lab when the first explosion hit. Are you going down after them?”

“Yeah, well, that’s the plan. It sure would be a big help if you could tell me how you made it all the way back up here,” MacGyver asked eagerly. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a trial to get down to the third level, if just one of these survivors had made it up this far on their own!

Barbara’s bright expression hardened and changed. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll show you. I’m going with you.”

Oh, boy. “No, whoa – whoa, whoa, no, no. I’m sorry, but the only place you’re going is up through that hole to the surface,” MacGyver said, trying to be simultaneously gentle of her feelings but firm that she should not remain in danger.

From the way she glared at him, MacGyver could tell that she wasn’t going to back down that easily. She didn’t cross her arms or clench her fists; it was more of something in the way her eyes threw sparks, and the way the dirt on her fair skin failed to darken the fierce light of determination in her expression.

“Oh, no. Not without Karl Steubens.”

MacGyver tried another tactic. He couldn’t let her proceed with him without being fully aware of the situation, and certainly not if he didn’t know more about her.

“Uh, look, uh – ” he wiggled his fingers to invite her to share her name with him.

“Spencer. Barbara Spencer.”

MacGyver sighed. “Barbara. What if I were to tell you that if I can’t stop an acid leak down there, in a few hours they’re gonna flood this whole complex with sodium hydroxide. Hmm?”

“Then I’d say we’re wasting time,” Barbara responded with a challenging gleam in her eyes.

MacGyver accepted the inevitable. “Ah, guys – we got a little change of plan here. I have a Barbara Spencer on my hands –” as he made this announcement through his radio, he returned Barbara’s regard, softened with a wry grin, “– she’s comin’ with me.”

⌂

Up on the First level, Pete Thornton was listening to the two voices coming quite clearly over the radio. He covered his eyes with one hand as MacGyver capitulated to Barbara's demand. That boy never could learn to say no to a woman, he thought wryly.

Gantner noticed his expression. He covered his mike and whispered, “What’s wrong, Andy? Andy?”

Pete recovered quickly, remembering who he was supposed to be, and covered his own mike to respond, “I’m fine – I’m fine. Just one more complication. I sure hope she doesn’t get in MacGyver’s way.”

Burke’s assistant Gus was kneeling down at the service panel of a nearby computer console and had overheard the conversation. “Barb really knows her way around the Kiva,” he volunteered helpfully, looking up from the naked circuit board that he was testing. “She’s Steuben’s right-hand man … so to speak. She’s familiar with all his research and she knows the labs inside and out.” Then he blushed, realizing he was wearing a silly grin that might be considered inappropriate when speaking of a colleague– particularly one of the opposite gender – and he hastily turned back to his task.

Gantner sighed. He leaned in so that only Pete could hear him, and softly he spoke his confession, “I was really hoping that somehow Steubens and Marlow were with those survivors, and that Mac could come back up right away.”

Pete nodded but said nothing. He knew that MacGyver would have gone on anyway … there was still the acid leak to stop. Until he ran out of time, the ruined Kiva laboratories were MacGyver’s playground. Pete was as worried about MacGyver as Gantner, but he couldn’t express as much without compromising his cover.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Pete settled for lighting up another cigarette—borrowed from one of the engineers—and filled the air with smoke instead.

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Up on the First level, Pete Thornton was listening to the two voices coming quite clearly over the radio. He covered his eyes with one hand as MacGyver capitulated to Barbara's demand. That boy never could learn to say no to a woman, he thought wryly.

Sounds like Burke may have a bit of a crush on feisty Barb.

Lead on, Mac!

[Lothithil]

The Rainmakers, Ch. 16
Clearance

MacGyver waited until Barbara had climbed up and through the hole before he spoke. “Colsen, what can you tell me about my new guide?”

“She’s Karl Steuben’s assistant—been with him for five years. She’s got clearance for all the levels of the Kiva.” There was a short pause where, though MacGyver couldn’t see, Pete was grinning at the disconcerted Gus as he added, “By all accounts, she’s a woman to be reckoned with.”

Pete heard the smile in MacGyver’s response. “I gathered that much. Hang around and we’ll see where Spencer wants us to go.”

“Will do. You two watch yourselves.”

oxoxo

Barbara crawled through the narrow opening, wishing—not for the last time—that she had worn a pantsuit instead of a dress to work that day. As she pulled herself along, her hand closed on the battered shoe she had brought up from the third level—it had been half-buried in loose dirt. Grimly, she clutched it tightly and struggled forward with even more determination. Hands were waiting on the other side to help her down.

“Dobbson.” The little man was limping down the corridor, one hand on his head and the other bracing himself against the wall as he made his way toward the elevator shaft and the promise of escape; he stopped and turned back at the sound of Barbara’s voice.

She hurried to his side, pressing the shoe into his hands. “Take this up with you… please.”

“Up? Aren’t you coming out with us?”

Barbara shook her head. “No. I’ve got to try to help Dr. Steubens and his friend Dr. Marlow. They’re still trapped in his lab.”

“You’re going back down to the Third?!” Dobbson gaped at her. “After everything we went through to get up here?!”

“I have to, Dobbson. This guy they sent down… he doesn’t know the Kiva…not like I do. I can get him there faster than if he wanders around alone down here.”

Dobbson looked at the shoe, and then he raised his eyes to look into Barbara’s face. “Are you sure you want to do this? I know that you’re dedicated to your work… but I think you’re taking loyalty a little too far. Dr. Steubens would never expect you to risk your life like this.”

Forcing bravado, Barbara smiled and shrugged. “What risk? I’ve got the Boy Scout with me, remember?” She turned and nodded in the direction of the bio lab.

As she spoke, MacGyver came sliding down the dirt pile and landed on his feet. He slapped the dust from his trousers and immediately followed the hose back to the fire extinguisher box, where he twisted the lever back to relieve the water pressure. He tried to push the glass door of the cabinet back in place--as far as it would go with the hose unraveled--but the broken glass fell out he moved it, causing him utter a surprised whistle and snatch his hand back.

Dobbson squinted toward in MacGyver's direction. “Hmm. Is he a handsome fellow, this man? I think I'm jealous that you’d rather stay down here with him than come away with me!”

Barbara flushed. “I haven’t noticed,” she replied tartly.

“Hmm. You’ll get him through safely, I’ll wager. I’ll be waiting upstairs for you, my dear.”

Barbara caught one of the other scientists and put Dobbson’s hand on the man’s arm. “Goodbye, Dobbson. I’ll see you again in a few hours.”

She watched the other survivors as they limped down the corridor, bunching around the elevator doors where they waited to ascend through the dusty shaft of light that now shown down through the opening. More than a mere rope ladder, Burke had organized several volunteers to drop down through the shaft with ropes and harnesses, lifting the shaken and injured scientists to safety.

Barbara became conscious of warmth against her back. She turned her head and saw that the man who had rescued them standing close to her… not quite touching, but close; he was also watching the progress of the exodus.

When he saw her glance at him, he offered her a wry smile and lifted one hand in what struck her as a ridiculously chivalrous gesture. “Shall we?”

She turned immediately and began to walk toward the control room, eager not to let him see how much she would prefer to be climbing out than going down again into the dusty and crumbling Hell she knew waited on the third level of the Kiva.

She had her back toward him; if she had seen MacGyver’s face, she could have guessed by his expression how much he would have liked to see her climbing out, too.

xoxox

Burke had a look on his face like he’d been pole-axed. He’d just gotten back from organizing the extraction of the surviving scientists MacGyver had found, and Pete had given him an update on MacGyver’s status. “What?! W-what did you say that name was again?”

“Some woman named Spencer. She volunteered to show MacGyver where she last saw Steubens and Marlo—”

“Are you out of your mind, Colsen?” Burke demanded angrily. “She’s one of the few people who know Steuben’s research inside and out… we can’t risk her like this!”

“It was her decision,” Pete answered calmly. “Look, I’m not any crazier about it than you are… but the fact is that if we can find Steubens faster this way… we’ll have a better chance of getting them out in time!”

Burke sighed. “Okay, Colsen,” he muttered at last, “but I hope this guy can hold his own.”

Pete’s forehead creased with concern. “What do you mean?”

The corner of Burke’s mouth crooked up in a sarcastic smile. “He just better hope that none of the information he needs is classified. The earth will open up and swallow the sun before Barbara Spencer gives anyone without proper clearance so much as the time of day.”

Gantner blinked in confusion. “I don’t understand… you authorized MacGyver to go down there. Doesn’t that mean he’s got whatever clearance he needs?”

“Come on, Gantner… you work for the State Department!” Burke’s laugh was a touch bitter. “You know the difference between ‘authorization’ and ‘clearance’.”

Gantner frowned and muttered, “Oh boy.”

Pete bit his lip. It clearly hadn’t occurred to Gantner to inform Spencer – or even Burke, for that matter – that MacGyver already had top-level State Department clearance … and ‘Colsen’ wouldn’t know it either. Pete had to remain silent – though it took a massive effort – and prayed silently that MacGyver would manage to charm what he needed to know out of Spencer… before time ran out for everyone below Level One.

oxoxo

Barbara led MacGyver straight toward the control room. The walls and ceiling had buckled in some places, but the corridor was still passable. They went past several doors, but Spencer did not glance at them or even slow down; she was retracing the steps that had led her and Dobbson up from the lower level. Her goal was to find Karl Steubens and get him safely out of this place as quickly as possible.

MacGyver lagged behind by several paces. He looked around and stopped occasionally to push open doors, giving each room a cursory investigation, occasionally nudging piles of debris with his foot but finding nothing useful. The next door he tested failed to yield to his hand. Squinting through the small window, he could see nothing but darkness.

Barbara glanced back and noticed that he’d stopped. She halted and turned. “What are you doing?” she asked sharply.

“Just seeing what there is to see,” MacGyver answered. Eyeing the door and estimating its strength, he put his shoulder against the frame and leaned hard.

“That is Dr. Zaylus’ office… and it's private.” Barbara’s lips were pressed together in a firm line of disapproval. “You have no business—” she jumped a little as the door suddenly gave way to his thrust and popped open. “You have no business in there!” she repeated, coming back several steps toward MacGyver. “Come out of there at once!”

MacGyver stepped back out of the room, leaving the door open. “Nobody home.”

Barbara leaned past MacGyver and pulled the door closed. “His research is classified! You don’t have clearance… you’ve no right to break open doors!”

“I didn’t break it… I, ah… circumvented the lock.” MacGyver hedged. “I’m sure that Dr. Zaylus would feel differently about my ‘entering uninvited’ if he had been in there and needing help. Shall we continue?”

Barbara pressed her lips closed again. Her training had prepared her for the idea that some security measures must be sacrificed in a desperate crisis, but she found it very difficult to admit to herself that things were so desperate—because that would bring her closer to admitting to herself that it may be too late to rescue Dr. Steubens.

Rather than argue with the man, she nodded and walked on, saving her energy for what might come next.

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Mac's got himself a tiger by the tail.

“I didn’t break it… I, ah… circumvented the lock.” MacGyver hedged.

That is soooo Mac!!

[Lothithil]

The Rainmakers, Ch 17
Chocolate

From the control room a door led to an access chamber. Part of the ceiling had collapsed in front of it since Barbara and Dobbins had passed through, but it was nothing very heavy – just some ceiling tiles and a bit of dirt. MacGyver shifted the mess out of the way, and this time Barbara said nothing when he popped open the locked door. She did make a mental note to herself to make sure that deadbolts were installed in the next lab she worked in. Working with this man certainly had become an eye-opener as far as testing security measures.

Inside, there was round opening in the center of the floor, out of which a ladder protruded, suspended by sturdy cables.

MacGyver leaned over the opening and looked down. He sighed. “God, I hate heights.”

Barbara closed her eyes. This was the man who had been sent to rescue her? This was who she was relying on for help in reaching Dr. Steubens? Her sigh echoed his.

But the man didn’t hesitate; he shifted his bag around to his back and started briskly down the ladder, his hands and feet sure and swift on the metal rungs. The ladder shook very slightly under his weight. Barbara followed.

After they had descended a few yards, Barbara finally spoke again; she had just realized that she was risking her life with someone she knew absolutely nothing about. “I know this is a stupid time to ask… but have you got a name?”

MacGyver raised his head just enough to see her feet as he answered her, “MacGyver.”

Barbara noticed that he did not look at her – though this would be an opportune moment for a guy to get a free shot up a lady’s dress. Obviously, this was no ordinary guy. She half-chuckled as she said, “MacGyver. That’s a good name.”

MacGyver grinned as he climbed, in spite of the dizziness he felt when he peered into the gloomy depths. Maybe the frost is melting a little, he thought. He knew he’s still have to go easy with Spencer – the dangers ahead were harder to face knowing that her safety would be at risk, too, if he made too many mistakes – but he felt lucky have such an intelligent and spirited companion.

The shaft grew darker the farther they climbed. By the time his foot reached the solid surface of the floor, MacGyver couldn’t have looked up Barbara’s skirt if he had wanted to. He could barely see his own hands before his face. He stood aside so that Barbara could reach the floor.

“Kinda dark in here, isn’t it?” he said. His voice echoed within the chamber. Barbara heard him sniffing the air.

“It wasn’t like this when we went up – there were lights in here. I don’t suppose you have a flashlight in that bag of yours?”

“Nope. Stay here.” MacGyver walked slowly forward, sliding his feet and reaching forward with his hands until he blindly came to a wall. From there, he circled until he found a door. “Is the Third level laid out the same as the Second?”

“This isn’t the Third level,” Barbara said. She was still standing beside the ladder. “We’re on a sublevel that leads to the Third. We’ve still got quite a ways to go. In the dark,” she added dryly.

“Not for long,” MacGyver said. The door was locked, but luckily the mechanism was on his side – this time. He opened the door; dim light spilled into the room and banished the gloom into shades of grey and taupe.

Barbara sighed softly with relief. She felt the same way about the dark as MacGyver felt about heights although she wasn’t about to admit it. “This is the way Dobbson and I came,” she confirmed. MacGyver held the door open as she approached him, but before she went through he stopped her and went out first. When he determined was sure that there were no immediate threats, he stood aside and let her pass.

“It really isn’t necessary, you know,” she said tentatively – she really was trying not to sound like a snipe; “this chivalry business. We’re in a dangerous situation… you don’t need to hold open doors for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” MacGyver said respectfully. He stood and waited for her to lead the way, his small smile barely visible in the sparse light. Barbara realized he wasn’t going to change his behavior at that moment; she shook her head a little and shrugged. However, when she moved to lead the way, he stepped in beside her instead of walking behind.

“Maybe you could help me out, Barbara,” MacGyver began, as they walked down a dim corridor only lightly strewn with debris, “since you were down here when all this happened. Can you tell me where you were, and what you were doing?”

Barbara took a moment to answer. MacGyver recognized the look on her face; he’d spent enough time on covert operations, working with classified information and the people who handle such things, to tell when someone was trying to decide what to say and what not to. He waited patiently for what answers she was willing to give.

“I was on my way back to the lab from the commissary when the first explosion hit.” MacGyver made a circling gesture with his finger, a subtle coaxing motion for more information. “I had left Dr. Marlow with Dr. Steubens in his lab.”

“What were they doing at the time of the explosion?” MacGyver asked.

“I—ah, assume that they were doing… what they were doing when I left the lab,” she hedged. She didn’t want to tell MacGyver what Steubens and Marlow were doing. Even though it hardly qualified as classified information—with all the work and stress that had been going on in the Kiva since the time that the research data had been lost, it now seemed petty and negligent to Barbara that Steubens had insisted on setting aside work for a game of chess—the words caught in her throat, and she was appalled with herself for judging such a brilliant man.

MacGyver stopped her with a touch on the arm. He looked at her pointedly, waiting for the answers that Barbara did not want to give. “I don’t see what that has to do—” she began hotly.

“I need information, Spencer.” MacGyver used her surname instead of her more familiar name, hoping the distance would put her back at her ease. “I’m flying blind down here, and I need to know what happened. The people up on the surface… Charlie Burke and Andy Colsen… they’re just guessing about what happened down here. I'm assuming that Marlow came here to assist Steubens in the research that they've been working on together. Can you tell me what facet of the Rainmaker Project they were experimenting with?”

Barbara gaped at him. How did he know about Rainmaker? “That information is classified... h-how did you know about that?”

“I’ve been briefed, of course.” MacGyver sighed. “Do you really think I'm just some yokel that they hired in off of the street? Spencer, I would have bet that you were smarter than that.” Barbara flushed and lowered her eyes. “Tell me what you know,” MacGyver added gently, “I’m trying to help.”

“Well, they weren’t responsible!” she spat, wrenching her arm away from him with unnecessary force. “Dr. Steubens and Dr. Marlow... they were—they were playing chess—not building bombs!”

MacGyver merely looked at her and said mildly, “Nobody’s suggested that they were.” Barbara held her stare for a moment. MacGyver did not back down, nor did he look away. “But the explosion did originate in Steuben’s lab… didn’t it?”

Barbara said nothing. She just stared at him, cheeks tinged with fire.

“Take that as a ‘yes’,” MacGyver muttered softly.

Barbara maintained her blank expression, refusing to admit or deny anything. Eventually they began walking again. The damage and debris became gradually worse the farther they went along the corridor.

MacGyver waited for the flush to fade from Barbara’s face before he asked his next question. “Any idea what set the blasts off?”

“No.” She sounded a little calmer, but MacGyver thought he could hear a note of doubt in her voice that had not been there before. “It was so sudden I barely had time to make it past the electronics lab before that exploded too.”

“Huh. Steubens’ lab – bio lab – electronics – seems like all the explosions were somehow connected to the labs.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible. They’re all independent of each other.”

MacGyver gestured ahead; they were coming upon a set of double doors with lock-releases. “Is this where you came up?”

Barbara stepped briskly forward to push the door open. “Yeah, it’s the stairway to – ”

Mac lunged forward and caught her arm. “Heya, hold it, hold it – ”

There were wisps of smoke leaching between the doors; Barbara had not noticed it in the dim light, but MacGyver had been expecting something like this, and had been looking for exactly such a detail. He had smelled the acrid odor of something burning as soon as they had reached this level. Years of experience dealing with explosives and fire had taught him what to look for, and what to fear.

MacGyver gently but firmly set Barbara behind him as he cautiously investigated the doors. Kicking through a pile of dirt, he came up with a round wooden dowel that had been half-buried. He pulled it free of the rubbish and, reaching forward cautiously with the stick, he touched the end of it against the metal mounting block of the door handle.

The wood immediately began to smoke and hiss, and then it burst into flames with a whoosh that made Barbara gasp and flinch back.

MacGyver held up the burning dowel and watched the flames gnawing at the wood. It burned with an eerie blueish-green flame, telling him that the fire was being fed by an odd mixture of chemicals. He hoped that whatever fumes or vapors that were being produced weren’t dangerous when inhaled; there was an unpleasant list of things that burned odorlessly and could quite easily kill them.

He debated again whether or not he should allow Barbara to continue to accompany him. He just didn’t know enough about what was coming to be comfortable with her along. On the other hand, they were making excellent time, and if the fumes were dangerous, they would know it by now… they’d already be dead. Also, MacGyver chided himself, he’d known Missouri mules that were less stubborn than Barbara Spencer; he doubted that he could make her leave if he wanted to.

So… onward. “Got another way down?”

Barbara was watching MacGyver’s weird torch with a grimace on her face. With a note of uncertainty in her voice, she suggested, “The ‘Gas Chamber’?”

“What’s that?” MacGyver turned and thrust the dowel back into the pile of dirt to smother the flames.

“It’s a nickname we have round here for a series of airlocks around a common lab that works with sensitive gasses. This way,” she half-turned and gestured.

As he followed her, the radio on MacGyver’s hip crackled, and Gantner’s voice sounded through the tiny speaker. “Uh, you got three hours and twenty-seven minutes left, Mac. How’s Spencer holding up?”

“She likes m’name,” MacGyver grinned. “What more could I ask for?”

Pete, listening in on their talk, reflected silently on a list of things he could imagine that MacGyver could ask for – from oxygen equipment to heavy machinery to some kind of miracle – things that he wished he could provide, but couldn’t even if Mac had asked. The deeper he went into the Kiva, the less Pete could do to help him.

Barbara had turned a corner ahead. As MacGyver followed her, he saw that the floor was strewn with what had once been the contents of a snack-vending machine. Candy bars in a variety of flavors were scattered everywhere. As if answering his own rhetorical question, MacGyver muttered, “Chocolate.”

Barbara turned back toward him; she had picked her way daintily through the mess and was waiting for him to catch up. “You want one of these?” he asked her.

“No thanks,” Barbara said flatly. She turned away to continue, her stomach flipping at the thought of food.

Squatting down, MacGyver studied the offering spread before him. After a moment he picked through the pile, gathering together a handful of bars with identical labels.

Barbara was disgusted. She turned to face him and crossed her arms. “How can you think about eating candy at a time like this, when the chances of us getting out of here alive – ”

Even MacGyver had a limit to his patience. “I know what the odds are. But I thought we might be able to store up on a little energy before we pressed on.” He stood up, with a gentle, “Let’s go.” He peeled the wrapper off of one of the bars, letting it flutter from his fingers as he walked past the remains of the toppled candy machine. The rest of the bars he slipped into his game bag.

Mac's Voice-Over:
I shouldn't be so hard on Barbara; I know she's scared. I'm just not sure she's scared for the right reasons.

I know that there's something a lot more challenging down here than digging out survivors... there's a big honking tank of acid somewhere spilling out into the ground... and damming that river of poison is pretty high on my to-do list. I think that she may have forgotten about that little detail...

It won't serve any good purpose to bring it up again, now. She's just thinking about finding Steubens... that's why she came along. I'll worry about the acid leak. I don't know what she can do to help me with that problem, anyway.

At least my stomach won't be growling at me anymore... but I do wish that the Kiva had stocked yogurt-covered raisins. Much healthier.

Barbara turned down a new passage. The floors were barely littered; this part of the underground complex seemed to have been mostly spared by the explosions. However, as they approached a series of framed doorways in a long corridor, she grew a puzzled look on her face and her step faltered. “Strange,” she admitted aloud.

“Wha’s that?” MacGyver mumbled through a bite of chocolate.

“The airlocks along the corridor are designed to close in any emergency –“

As if triggered by her words, a red light began to flash out a warning, accompanied by a hooting klaxon. The framed doorways began to close one after the other, all down the hallway.

“MacGyver! Hurry!” she shouted.

But even as Barbara began to run, MacGyver was beside her, seizing her hand and pulling her swiftly beside him through the segmenting doorways. They breezed through them all until they reached the last door; a massive, opaque thing of ribbed steel. It was almost closed.

MacGyver spun Barbara through the narrow opening and tried to slip in after her, but the edge of the heavy steel-framed glass door slammed shut just as he went through, clipping his forehead. He grunted with the impact but made it through, his momentum carrying him abruptly into a wall. He pressed his face against it for a moment, out of breath. Barbara was beside him, panting.

“Ow,” MacGyver announced, wiping his face to see if it was sweat trickling out of his hair, or blood. His head hurt where the door had struck him.

Barbara wandered from his side, her eyes wide with distress. She approached a viewing port overlooking the lab that the corridor bypassed. Her lips moved, but no sound escaped; tears welled up in her eyes.

She must have made some small sound; no more than a whimper, perhaps. MacGyver came up silently behind her and looked over her shoulder at the ghastly tableau.

The room below was drowned in several feet of opaque smoke. Four figures – perhaps more were hidden in the deadly fog – were slumped and sprawled on the floor.

The death toll of the Kiva was still climbing, and MacGyver and Barbara were both reminded abruptly that their efforts to reach Steuben’s lab might have no better results that what they could see in front of them.

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Not good. Definitely not looking good.

[Lothithil]

Note from Loth
OMG! Has it really ben since October that I last posted a chapter! Shame on me!!

I'll post a couple, and hope my Dear Readers forgive....

The Rainmakers
Chapter 18, Under Glass

The lab was swimming with thick, bitter air. Sidney Marlow tried not to move around too much. He felt dizzy and sick, and he didn’t wonder if the cause of it was the fumes he was breathing in or the fact that the oxygen might be running out. It didn’t really matter. He was more concerned with the condition of his friend Karl, who had been unconscious ever since the explosion.

Isolation and entrapment in a strange place where the cracked walls creaked and groaned and occasionally rained down chunks of plaster was doing nothing to sooth Marlow’s frayed nerves. He sat beside Karl on the stairs and fidgeted. He tried to whistle a tune, but his throat was too dry for such work; he thought longingly of the bottle of water he'd left, half-finished in the back of the limousine.

With the air becoming thicker and more difficult to breathe, Marlow was beginning to think it might be a better thing if Steubens didn’t wake up. That was when the scientist moaned and moved slightly, startling Marlow.

“Karl – Karl – ?” Marlow said as he bent close, to hear more easily if Steubens should speak.

Steubens groaned again, lifting his head a little. “We’re – still alive?”

Marlow was so excited by the fact that Steubens had finally awakened, he failed to notice that the man’s weak voice was laced with disappointment. Marlow began to chatter, glad at last to have someone with which to speak. “Well, after that explosion, it’s a miracle we are, but… ah… w-we’re trapped down here, and the intercom… it – it’s on-off, on-off.”

Steuben’s head ached as if it were being pressed in a vice. “They – they know we’re here?” he asked brokenly.

“Yes, they’re trying to get to us, and… ” Marlow paused as the ceiling creaked loudly. “With all the damage on the upper levels, it’s a – it’s a – ”

Steubens looked around, slowly beginning to take in his surroundings. There was something that was supposed to have happened, but he couldn’t quite remember what it was… he only knew that this was wrong. Sidney was alive, he was alive… and that should have made him glad, but instead he was filled with doubt and confusion. Suddenly he remembered, as the ceiling groaned above them – he felt a surge of hope that it would come crashing down and bring back the darkness.

But the ceiling did not fall, and the death of that dark hope delivered clarity to the rattled man; he realized that his designs had failed… with the worst possible results. “Oh, no.”

⌂

MacGyver’s Voice-Over:
I’m impressed. Whoever designed these airlocks, they didn’t skimp on anything; materials, technology, or security. The place was tight. There were no access panels to rewire, no cracks in the seals that could be pried open, no air vents that an intruder could crawl through. Tight.

On the other hand, there were no air vents.

Which left Spencer and me in a tight spot!

The only way out of this trap was through the glass that separated us from the deadly gas lurking in the lab below. As far as I could tell, it was just regular glass… unlike the reinforced transparent materials that made up the airlock door. I could probably break it with a sharp blow… but that didn’t seem like such a wildly good idea at the moment.

I had to call on my eavesdropping angels. Gant, Charlie, and Pete – I mean, Andy Colsen – would have to come through for us somehow.

“Um, Colsen?” MacGyver clipped the microphone onto his collar again. He’d discreetly moved it away from his mouth when he began following Barbara down into the KIVA, so that their every word wasn’t being broadcast to anyone in hearing range of the receiver on the First level. Contrary to what Barbara Spencer thought, MacGyver was aware of the concept of ‘classified intelligence’.

“We're all here, MacGyver.”

“We’re in a bit of a pickle, here, guys… the air locks didn’t seal themselves until after we tried to go through. We’re trapped just adjacent to the gas lab on the sub-level between Two and Three.”

“How much air have you got?” Pete asked.

MacGyver had done the math on that particular concern. “About an hour’s worth, judging on the size of this room and the rate that we’re using it.” He glanced at Spencer, who had turned her back to the glass so she didn’t have to look at her dead co-workers. MacGyver could tell it didn’t matter; she’d be seeing them many years from now – no matter where she was or what she was really looking at. So would he. “More air than luck, at the moment,” he muttered.

Barbara felt MacGyver’s eyes upon her, but she didn’t meet his gaze. Hope that had been burning through her now turned to water and flowed out of her. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. Absently tugging her skirt below her knees, she then folded her hands across her lap. Maybe if she was composed on the outside, the disarray of her mind and heart wouldn’t show.

“Is there any way that you can open these doors from up there?” MacGyver asked.

“We’re looking into that,” Burke’s voice answered promptly. MacGyver would have been happier to hear Pete’s voice. Burke’s continued, “Andy’s gone to get the hard copies of the security protocols for that area. Some of the computers on the Third level are working – we’re getting some data from there – but we’re pretty blind on the sub-levels. We should be able to reroute the substations and access the security network, but… it – it may take some time.”

“We’ve got a little of that,” MacGyver said calmly. He paced out the length and breadth of the room, reaching up to get a better guesstimate of height to recalculate the cubic space. The answer he got didn’t improve the situation. He returned to the window and looked again, hoping to spot something that might broaden their options. There were several banks of instrument panels, but they were too far away for him to read.

Then he remembered his bag. Tapping his forehead as if to jar loose any other good ideas that might be hiding up there, he pulled out his mutilated binoculars.

One lens was still intact. Using it like a telescope, MacGyver scanned the panels below. The thick smoke pooling three or four feet deep all through the room made it difficult to read most of the instrument panels. Of those he could read, nothing suggested any ideas.

To Barbara, he said, “Where are the exits in this lab?”

Barbara rolled her eyes toward him tiredly and sighed, “On the right, a short stair that leads to the main corridor for this sub-level. The elevator and stairwell are outside that door. There’s an emergency exit in the center of the lab… but it only leads into another lab just like this one. It used to be one large lab, but when we modified it for gas research, we subdivided to get more use of the space.” She spoke listlessly, as if she didn’t care if her information was useful or not.

MacGyver squatted down beside her. “Spencer.” She looked at him blankly. “We’re going to get out of here, you know.”

“Are we? Of course we are,” she said with tired cynicism. “You’re the Boy Scout. I forgot.”

MacGyver smiled. He sat himself on the floor, facing Barbara. “So, it seems we’ve got some time. Anything you want to talk about?”

“Talking will use up our oxygen,” she said absently. “As if that mattered,” she muttered. “What do you want to know?”

“You know what I want to talk about,” he said, “the experiments Dr. Steubens and Dr. Marlow were working on today.”

“Today… it seems like years ago when this day started,” Barbara said softly. She let her head fall back against the wall with a gentle bump. “I can’t tell you… I can’t even admit that they were or weren’t working on something. It’s classi– ”

“Classified,” MacGyver said, expecting her refusal. “Yeah, I know. So let’s talk about something else. Who do you like for the Cup this year?”

“What?” Barbara blinked and focused on him.

MacGyver stretched his legs out in front of him. In the small room, his and Barbara’s feet nearly touched. “The Stanley Cup. You know – professional hockey. Who’s your team?”

Barbara began to laugh lightly. “I live and work in New Mexico … I’ve never seen a hockey game in my life!”

“Oh, then we are definitely getting out of here,” MacGyver said, bumping the toes of his boots against Barbara’s shoes. “And when we do, I’m taking you to a game. You’ll love it.”

“Right.” She rolled her eyes up and then let them close. She was glad that MacGyver wasn’t going to push her to talk about the things she couldn’t say. “Why don’t you tell me about hockey… while we wait to get out of here?” She still wasn’t convinced, but she found his idle conversation soothing – maybe because it was so silly to talk about such things under these circumstances. Or maybe it was the sound of his voice… the accent that seemed to wax and wane… the way he could make everything sound reasonable and hopeful.

Barbara needed MacGyver to give her hope, because hers was just about used up.

⌂

Pete had three other people besides himself looking for the security protocol manuals – he would have had more helping him, but space in the filing room was very limited. Every second that expired in that room weighed on Pete like a stone – lives hung on the balance, and a few grams of paper could tip those scales toward life or death.

As Pete’s tired fingers located a folder containing routing schematics, one of the other men rifling through the filing cabinets suddenly barked out “I found ‘em!” Pete grabbed his folder and the thick manual the young technician was waving around excitedly, rapping out a ‘Good job, fellas!’ as he rushed back to the computer lab with his prizes.

“How’re MacGyver and Spencer doing?” Pete asked Gantner as he spread the papers on the table.

Gantner sighed before he answered. “Not good, Andy. They’re gonna run out of air.”

Pete felt sorry for Gantner. The man was not looking good himself; there were circle under his eyes as dark as bruises, his shirt was drenched with perspiration, and he was so nervous that he twitched at every noise.

“Not if we have anything to say about it,” Pete stated firmly. “What do you know about computers, Ed?”

Gantner looked morose. “I know you should never spill coffee on a keyboard,” he muttered darkly.

Pete laughed in spite of himself. “Okay, you can help me. Be an extra pair of eyes for me and watch the power levels on those terminals,” Pete pointed to a set of glass dials on a console nearby. The trembling needles were hovering at various levels. “If any of those needles gets close to the red area, let me know at once.”

“All right.” Gantner sounded marginally better, relieved to have a task to perform that might help the situation.

A shrill jangling sound cut through the chatter in the lab. Pete raised his head, recognizing the distinctive sound that an army radio-telephone made. Gus answered the thing, then passed the receiver to Burke.

Pete watched Burke’s face as he listened. By the set of his jaw and the way his eyes darkened, Pete could tell that whatever he was hearing, it was sure to be more bad news. He remembered then what Burke had said about the ‘solutions’ that the Army was working on.

Burke murmured a word and set the receiver back in its cradle. Sidling up to his Head of Operations, Burke spoke softly into his ear, so that Gantner could not hear. “We’ve got about fifty-five minutes, Andy. The tankers are almost here.” He flicked his eyes meaningfully toward Gantner. “Don’t tell him yet… he’s too emotionally invested. We don’t need someone flapping around here, panicking and making things worse. Okay?”

Pete nodded, but he felt a little bit like flapping and flailing himself. Swallowing the ache in his throat brought on by the thought of MacGyver trapped underground with a river of sodium hydroxide destined to be heading his way, he turned his full attention to the diagrams and documents spread in front of him.

He traced the circuits to the airlock doors, finding all the routings and alternate routings that were available. There were hundreds of connections to examine, but he stayed calm and began to go through them methodically.

It was up to him to get Mac out before it was too late.

~~~tbc

[Lothithil]

The Rainmakers
Chapter 19, Breathless

The air was starting to taste thin to MacGyver, and he was feeling a touch of a headache growing which had nothing to do with the bruise he had gotten from the airlock door. A flutter of claustrophobia surfed through his mind, urging the cells of his body to leap into action. He got to his feet and tried not to show the anxiety he was feeling.

Don’t panic, Mac! Something has to happen soon…

Pete’s voice saved him from drowning. “Listen, we’re repairing the circuits that open the airlock doors that are behind you.”

“I hear you,” MacGyver said softly. He forced himself not to fidget, though he felt as though there was a tiger inside of him, pacing the walls of its cage.

Barbara stood up and moved to his side. Her face reflected her distress, but she felt an odd comfort just standing near MacGyver. If these were to be her last moments, she wanted to keep him close.

Together, they waited.

⌂

Pete’s Voice-Over:
I felt like the guy with the whip in the middle of a three-ring circus; I had technicians and engineers and programmers jumping around like acrobats – with Gantner as the dancing bear, waltzing to stay out of the way as they scrambled over the computers and around them, fixing and programming, sweating and swearing.

I’d found and traced the circuits to the airlock doors, but it wasn’t going to be as easy as that. A lot of reprogramming had to be done, new sub-routines had to be written, and we knew the hardware was unreliable… it was a million-to-one shot that this would work.

And in the middle of it all – quite noticeable in the midst of such chaos – the Director of the KIVA was standing and staring at nothing, tapping his lower lip with a pen. Whether he was thinking hard or listening closely – or all of the above – I wasn’t sure, but watching him I suddenly became aware of a feeling that I’d been trying to ignore.

MacGyver has teased me about this – he calls it my ‘Bureaucrat Spidey-sense’, and that it starts tingling whenever I hear any B.S. At the time he said that, I laughed about it and put it down as a combination of orneriness on Mac’s part and reading too many comic books when he was a kid. I’m not so sure that this is an extra sense – but I do confess to a heightened instinct for smelling trouble coming down the chain of command.

I could smell something now… and I could see Burke’s face… and it had ‘covert operations’ written all over it.

I realized that I had made an assumption that the phone call that Burke had received from Colonel Keele was in regard to the sodium hydroxide tankers… but what if it had been about something else?

Burke must have seen me watching him; he suddenly left the room. I couldn’t possibly follow him – besides, the tech was almost finished with his work rewiring the one and only console up here that could control the airlock doors. This console had been severely damaged, and I had serious doubts about whether it could be repaired in time… or at all. The only other point of control was inside the gas lab itself, beyond anyone’s reach.

And we were almost out of time.

“Any idea what kind of gas is in there?” Pete asked, touching his microphone.

From down in the Gas Chamber, MacGyver’s answer came calmly back to him, “No, I sure don’t.” He gave Barbara a tentative, questioning look and said gently, “Maybe Spencer does.”

Barbara met his eyes briefly then looked away.

Mac shook his head faintly. “Yeah – Colsen, I don’t think we can get a fix on it just yet.”

“We’re gonna try the airlock circuits now.”

“Okay.”

Holding their breath unconsciously, MacGyver and Barbara waited, but the doors did not open. Barbara pressed her hands against the glass, hoping to feel a tremor or a vibration that would mean the mechanism was just being slow at working.

Nothing happened. The seconds ticked by as hope slowly cooled. “Colsen?” MacGyver prompted, alarm leaking into his voice.

There was pause long enough to live half a life before MacGyver heard an answer, “Yeah … sorry,” Pete’s voice was flat, cold; hopeless.

MacGyver knew then what had to be done, and the slowly uncoiling springs of fear inside him suddenly tightened into a core of steel. He drew in a long clearing breath, already planning his next attack.

⌂

Burke had slipped back into the room in time to see the shower of sparks flying from the computer console when the technician tried to activate the airlock doors. The pen he’d been fiddling with bounced off the floor as he flung it away in a moment of frustration. He braced his arms against another console, hung his head and attempted to get control of his temper.

He had been so full of hope that they could pull this off … that he could tell Keele to forget about the second half of the contingency plan. Even now the radio phone was jangling again – it sounded to Burke like the taunting, hysterical laughter of the devil himself. He squeezed his eyes shut. Then he straightened up and kicked the console hard enough to leave a dent in the metal skin.

Gantner stared at the greenish flames eating out the heart of the computer. A technician ran in with a fire extinguisher and sprayed white powder over the fire. Gantner turned away, a sick look on his face as the realization of their failure sank home. He gently set his microphone on a table and wandered out of the room. He went past Burke without a word; neither man could meet the other's eye.

Pete pinched the end of his cigarette and watched the smoke curl up to the ceiling. He had one advantage over his companions in the command center – he knew MacGyver… really knew him – and so he knew that nothing was over yet. As long as Mac was alive – there was hope.

Pete knew… but ‘Andy Colsen’ did not … and so he breathed in cigarette smoke and frowned at the computers and kept Burke in his peripheral vision.

⌂

Barbara looked at MacGyver desperately, and she was amazed at what she saw. The man’s face was alight – he had a gleam in his eye like pure danger – and there was no trace of defeat or anxiety on his handsome features.

Barbara instantly became infected by his enthusiasm; his strength flowed into her, eye to eye, and she found herself become calm again, though something within her had softly changed. The concern she felt – for Steubens, for herself – had broadened to include MacGyver as well.

What a place, she thought with wonder, what a place, and what a time, to feel like this!

When he spoke into the microphone, his voice was confident and sure. “Colsen, this is a gas lab, right? Shouldn’t there be some vacuum pumps to evacuate the air just in case of an emergency?”

Barbara wasn’t the only one uplifted by the strength in MacGyver’s voice. Gantner had numbly retired to the Operations room to brood. He overheard MacGyver’s words and looked down at Colsen through the glass, desperate for some straw of hope to grasp at. He turned and hurried back into the control room in time to hear Colsen’s answer:

“Yeah, that’s right, there are. But you would have to go through the gas to get to them. And even then, there’s no guarantee that they’ll work.”

Gantner’s fleeting hope turned to horror. He snatched up a hand mike. “Mac! You can’t! Once you break the seal on that airlock, the gas’ll kill you.”

“Doesn’t matter, Gant,” MacGyver said, “we’re gonna run outta air in here pretty soon anyway.”

MacGyver was watching Barbara, watching him. She seemed ready for any challenge; she hadn’t even blinked an eye at Gantner’s dramatic words. His respect for her soared anew.

Here during what could be their last living moments, Barbara felt more alive than she’d been at any time in her life. “The switch for the pumps is on that panel. See it?” With her eyes, she indicated the place.

MacGyver nodded, having seen it earlier with the help of his monocular. “Awright.”

He lifted the strap of his game bag over his head as he said, “When we open this airlock, I want you to head straight for that passage down to the next level. Awright?” MacGyver’s accent was back. He moved the microphone to his belt and began to pull off his over-shirt. “Here.” With a smooth motion, he ripped the tough material into two pieces, handing her one of them. “I want you to put this around your mouth and nose. Won’t keep out the gas…” he shrugged slightly, “… but it might help a little.” He tore what remained of the shirt in half again.

Barbara fingered the material, working up her courage. “MacGyver. If you don’t get the pumps started – “

Mac interrupted her with a smile, before she could say anything negative that might jinx them. “Heey! Hey – “

Barbara smiled back at him. “ – I just wanted to say…” Instead of speaking, she substituted action for words, and gently kissed him on the lips. Pulling back with a smile, she added, “Thanks.”

MacGyver glowed at her. “You bet.” He covered his grin with a piece of fabric, tying it behind his head. Barbara did the same.

“Take a few deep breaths before this goes,” he advised her. She nodded.

Mac resettled his game bag over his shoulder, and then wound the remaining scrap of his flannel shirt over the knuckles of his right hand. With no more warning than a nod to Barbara, he drew in a massive breath – and drove his fist straight through the glass!

It shattered loudly, pieces flying in every direction. A piercing alarm began shrieking in their ears. MacGyver threw more punches, knocking out the rest of the pane. He ran his wrapped hand around the edge of the window to clear the glass as quickly as possible. He leapt into the lab, conscious of the danger of jagged edges but nevertheless in too much of a hurry to be over-careful; he felt a shard bite into his unprotected left hand as he vaulted through the opening. He ignored the distraction and turned to help Barbara as she crawled over the wall.

He led the way down a short ladder and into the pool of fog. Barbara obediently hurried on toward the exit, while MacGyver moved directly toward the control panels.

Barbara’s movement cleft a wake through the thick smoke. She clutched the fabric of MacGyver’s shirt over her face as she ran, counting slowly to herself. She knew how long she could hold her breath… and she knew about how much time she had.

She picked her way quickly through a pile of boxes and bins scattered through the passage, narrowly avoiding tripping over the body of an unfortunate scientist. She nearly gasped in shock as she staggered. Clamping one hand over her mouth and nose to hold in the scream, she ran on until she reached the exit.

The airlock responded immediately when she slapped the release, and she whirled into the room as the doors closed with a sigh, biting off a tendril of the deadly fog that had followed her. She stared at it, still holding her breath, as it quickly melted out of the room through a vent.

Then she permitted herself a long, ragged breath of relief. She held it in for a few seconds, and then she hurled herself away from the wall, slamming her hand on the release button. When the door began to slide open, she didn’t wait but inserted her body as soon as it was wide enough to let her through and admit her into the twin of the lab she had just crossed.

MacGyver headed directly to the control panel and began punching the buttons for the pump controls. There was no response. He pressed the buttons again, firmly, then dug his nails behind the panel and pulled it straight out of the console. Turning it upward to expose the guts, he yanked out the wires that led to the dead controls and stripped them, crossing the naked copper.

Spark began to fly out of the panel, biting MacGyver’s hands like cruel gnats. He blinked and turned his face away, fingers still working deftly. There was a hum and a squeak overhead as the ventilation grid opened.

The fog rose slowly as if to explore the sounds. MacGyver’s lungs were screaming for air; he was going have to take a breath soon; his muscles were starting to cramp and there was darkness gathering on the edge of his vision. He’d managed to short-circuit the controls to open the venting hatch, but he had to get the connection to the main pump motor working. The wires swam in his fingers as his eyes began to water.

Up in the control room, Pete’s forgotten cigarette burned down toward his fingers. Beside him, Burke stood, fuming silently. Gantner was standing, staring at the control dials that Colsen had instructed him to watch – even though he knew that they’d never work now.

To his amazement, the dials began to twitch. He gasped, but was too surprised to utter a word

Pete heard the catch of breath, and looked over his shoulder. Lights started flashing on the damaged panel. Burke came over to see what the others were staring at.

“The indicator lights for the pumps. They’re coming on!” Pete announced with growing excitement. “Can’t be positive that they’re working… but they’re on!”

Everyone began to cheer. At last, something was working!

MacGyver had found the right connection and given the wires another good twist, and the ventilators rewarded him with a wholehearted roar and began to strongly vacuum the gassy fog from the room.

MacGyver turned from the control panel, half-blinded by the rising fog, and pushed himself in the direction of the exit. Instead of the stair and a doorway, however, he came up hard against a smooth wall. Muddled by lack of oxygen, he had run the wrong way.

Pressing the cloth against his mouth and nose, MacGyver surrendered to his body’s demands; he sucked air in through the cloth covering his face. His lungs rejoiced to have oxygen at last, but within a few wild beats of his laboring heart, his vision began to swim. Then he began to feel an awful sensation in his arms and legs – as if pins and needles were being pierced through his skin.

The air was no good; whatever the gas was, it was blocking his ability to absorb oxygen. He coughed out what he had breathed in, his throat closing in reflex, and began to stumble back the way he’d come.

The smoke was disappearing though the vents, but not fast enough. Numb and half-conscious, MacGyver’s blind fingers found an oval hatch in the wall. With desperate strength he wrenched it open and slithered through, hoping to find clean air on the other side.

What he found was another room bathed in fog. He dropped to the floor, his arms and legs disobeying him at last. The white tide rose up and swallowed him as he faded from consciousness.

~~~tbc!

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Two for one... but... but... MAC!!! ACK!

[Lothithil]

Note from Loth: What a cliffhanger, huh? Don't you just hate it when writers do that...*giggles wickedly*

The Rainmakers, ch 20
Chemistry

Barbara moved quickly through the second lab, heading directly toward the emergency supply cabinet. The fog in this room was not so heavy here as in the first lab, but she knew it was just as potentially dangerous. She held her breath again and, even though it offered no protection against the gas, she kept the cloth that MacGyver had given her pressed firmly over her nose and mouth – the feeling of security that the thin fabric provided was purely psychological, she knew, but – it did make her feel safer.

The cabinets were not locked; she knew that they wouldn’t be. She yanked the doors open and reached unerringly for what she needed. She strapped on the respirator – complete with a small oxygen tank – and drew a greedy breath of the cool, treated air. Then she grabbed another tank and mask for MacGyver and hurried back out of the lab.

MacGyver was not there yet. Setting her supplies on the floor, Barbara went to peer through the porthole into the lab. All she could see was a white swirl; the gas had been stirred up into an vast cloud by her earlier passage, and had not subsided. She could see no sign of MacGyver.

As she waited, however, the vacuum pumps roared to life and the gas began to rise and thin rapidly, sucked into the numerous vents all throughout the lab. He’s done it! She laughed into her mask with excitement and relief, eagerly searching the room with her eyes, expecting to see MacGyver appear any second, barreling toward her with his shirt over his nose like a bandit. Long seconds passed, and she began to frown.

Even the most experienced diver could not have held his breath for so long – something must have gone wrong! “Come on, Mac... I really don’t want to go back in there...” Her palms went clammy at the very thought of it, but if Mac was in trouble . . .

Barbara placed her hand over the door release to the first lab, but just as she did so something crashed noisily in the other lab. Startled, Barbara charged back into that room.

The gas in the second lab was not being vented out; the vacuum pumps in this lab were on a separate circuit, and it hadn’t occurred to her to try to turn them on. Swearing sharply, she waded through the milky smoke. She could not see anything, but there was movement in the fog nearby; a hatch was open between the two labs and some of the fog was being drawn slowly through. It had not been open the first time Barbara had passed – she was sure she would have noticed if it had been.

Barbara hurried toward the opening, but with a sickening lurch she stumbled and fell over something on the floor that had been invisible under the cloud of gas. She jerked herself up with a muffled gasp, realizing that she had tripped over a body, and her gasp rose into a sharp cry as she realized whose body it was.

“Oh, my God... Mac!”

He lay crouched on the floor, his head down on his forearms as if he had been crawling and could go no further. The scrap of cloth he had tied like a bandanna around his face he held pressed to his mouth and nose, his eyes shut tight.

“MacGyver? Mac? Can you hear me?” Barbara touched his throat and the hammering of his desperate pulse beat against her fingers, but when she laid her hand on his chest, she could feel no breath moving within him, only the tremor of straining muscle. “Let’s get you out of here, Mac – come on!”

MacGyver was far too heavy for Barbara to carry, but she had to try. To her relief, MacGyver actually helped her; he drew his knees up and pushed forward, falling as soon as he did but managing to get moving in the right direction. Barbara half-supported, half-pulled him toward the door. “That’s it ... that’s it! Just a few feet further...”

He fell twice more, and after the second time Barbara simply seized his arm and dragged him the rest of the way out of the lab.

⌂

MacGyver became aware of a feeling like he was drowning – and suffocating and starving – all at the same time. Something warm and wet was pressing against his mouth, sending trickles of water down into his drowning lungs. He found that he could swallow again – his throat was no longer locked and frozen – and he realized that it wasn’t water at all that he was drowning in; it was air. He forced himself to relax his jaws, permitting a short, questioning breath to flow into his lungs. It made his head spin and he felt a deep, vertiginous sensation in his stomach – but the horrible stabbing pains in his body began to ebb away. The shock of the release from pain made him drag in another breath, erasing more of his discomfort.

The warmth on his mouth disappeared, to be replaced by something cold. He didn’t like it very much – even though the delicious air continued to flow – it was sharp and hard and not warm and pleasant at all. He caught his breath and raised a hand to bat away the annoying pressure.

Something caught his hand and pushed it back down. “Stop that.” The voice was clear, close, understanding, and encouraging. “Breathe, now. Come on – breathe it in – “

MacGyver opened his eyes. He was lying on his back with his head pillowed on a scrap of torn shirt; Barbara was kneeling over him, holding an oxygen mask to his face. She smiled at him when she saw him looking at her.

“I’ve never seen anyone hold their breath after they’d passed out before,” she chided him. “You’d help me out a lot if you’d just relax and inhale.”

MacGyver took a tentative breath, then another deeper, eager draught. It was heavenly. He covered Barbara’s hand with one of his own, pressing the mask more firmly over his face as he drank in the wonderfully breathable stuff and felt it rush all through his shaking body, bringing peace throughout. He had felt as if his very bones were screaming for air.

“That’s better,” Barbara said, enormous relief apparent in her words.

She was half-giddy herself that she’d finally managed to revive him – she had feared that she’d arrived with too little help, too late. If it had taken any longer to find him – ! She pushed that thought away abruptly; she did not want to think about being down here alone again.

MacGyver tried to raise his head. Barbara placed her other hand on his forehead and pushed him back down, gently, and said, “Not yet. Keep inhaling. The toxins in your bloodstream must be completely neutralized, or you’ll relapse.”

MacGyver rolled his eyes up at her. “Wha’s in this stuff?” he mumbled through the mask.

“The counteragent to the nerve gas being developed in the Alpha Lab,” MacGyver noted that Barbara did not hesitate with her answers anymore, “in an oxygen-rich mixture.”

“Nerve gas! What the – “ MacGyver started to sit up in surprise, but an attack of dizziness made him lie back down immediately. He drew in a couple more steadying breaths while Barbara clucked at him. “And why is a chemical weapon being developed in a lab right alongside environmental research projects, hmm?”

Barbara tilted her head, giving him the pitying look warranted by such a naive statement. “It’s one of those distasteful projects that one is obligated to work on when someone else is footing the bill for your research.”

“Beautiful,” MacGyver muttered ironically. Closing his eyes, he let his hungry lungs devour the steady stream of cool air. He felt better every second that he lay there. He almost felt as if he could take a nap right there on the cold, hard floor – but for the pressing business that he could not completely forget, regardless of how comfortable he might be. “Good thing one of us knows what’s going on around here.”

Barbara’s expression showed no trace of shame or resentment at MacGyver’s statement; “I knew what the gas was, obviously – and I knew what to do if we inhaled any. Would knowing beforehand truly have made any difference?” She removed her hand from his head and allowed him to sit up, but watched him closely.

MacGyver leaned against the wall, still holding the mask in place. The dial on the respirator was edging smoothly toward empty. He took in the last few breaths with relish, then cautiously lowered the mask and sniffed the air. “It might have – but probably not. It’s not like we were drowning in choices.” He met Barbara’s eyes directly as he added, in a voice as reasonable as he could manage, “I’d prefer, from here on in, to be in-the-know on anything else like this, please.”

Barbara returned his gaze levelly. “There were no experiments conducted on the Rainmaker project this morning,” she began to speak, finally answering the question that MacGyver had repeatedly asked. “Dr. Marlow had just arrived, and I was supposed to take him on a tour of the facilities while Dr. Steubens reviewed the results of a test series that the Syndrex Corporation had conducted outside of the lab. But that isn’t what happened… Dr. Steubens changed his mind and he and Dr. Marlow sat down to finish a game of chess they’d started on the Telex.” Barbara lips curled up on an unconscious smile as she spoke about Steubens; MacGyver noticed but said nothing, not wanting to interrupt the flow of information.

Barbara cast her eyes downward for a moment. “I know that Dr. Steubens was – very unhappy when he discovered that these tests had been conducted without his consent. I’ve seen him angry before… but this time,” she flicked her eyes back up to MacGyver’s face, and he could see a gleam of uncertainty in her blue eyes as she continued, “he was so furious… and hopeless. I didn’t understand why – I would’ve thought that he’d be relieved that all the work wasn’t lost. But I didn’t see the results of the tests… the papers weren’t sent through the proper channels, and after he read them he locked them in his desk.”

“An independent test series, eh?” MacGyver sucked the last of the savory drops of treated air from the tank, then set the mask aside. “You wouldn’t by any chance know where those experiments were conducted?”

Barbara shrugged slightly. “I didn’t see the papers, but,” she tapped her lower lip thoughtfully. “I’m not sure it has anything to do with this, but a couple of weeks ago I did see something… a research packet was mistakenly sent back to the KIVA from Syndrex. I opened it thinking that it was for Dr. Steubens from Dr. Marlow, but it was coded – I realized that it was a classified military packet. A little later a soldier showed up at the Operations Center, asking for the packet.”

“Did you see him? Which branch of the armed forces was he with?”

“I believe he was with the Air Force… he had wings on his jacket.”

MacGyver frowned. I wonder if that has anything to do with my little field trip to Central Asia last week? Bracing one hand against the wall, and one on Barbara’s shoulder, he climbed to his feet. He still felt a little wobbly, but he was recovering quickly. “How much time have we lost?” He checked his watch.

“I’m not sure – maybe half an hour since you broke the glass.”

“Let’s walk and talk, shall we, Spencer? We still have some work ahead of us… if you’re still willing to go on.”

Barbara flushed slightly. “I’d rather go on than back through there.” She shuddered slightly. MacGvyer didn’t press her; he understood why.

He squeezed her shoulder gently before releasing her. “I’m grateful for you pulling me out,” he said earnestly. “Thank you, Spencer. I owe you one.”

“I think we can call it even,” Barbara said lightly. “We have a way to go to reach Dr. Steubens, if – if he’s still – ” she hesitated, glancing down at her hands uncertainly.

“We’ve got even more things to worry about than that,” MacGyver said, checking himself over for other injuries. “Bad news, Spencer. We’ve lost the two-way mike.”

Barbara glanced around, to see if had fallen from MacGyver’s belt nearby where she hadn’t noticed it. It was nowhere in sight. “They don’t know where we are now!”

MacGyver knew they didn’t have time to look for it. “Let’s find that acid leak.”

~~~tbc