The Rainmakers, MacGyver Fic, Epilogue NOW COMPLETE!

[Lothithil]

Chapter Seven: Rook to King’s Fifth

Pete was studying a computer monitor when Barbara Spencer’s face suddenly appeared at his shoulder. A gentle cloud of fragrance surrounded her.

“It looks like we have a good start on the recovery,” she said brightly, reading over his shoulder. “That is good news! Dr. Marlow is due to arrive any minute and I’m sure that Dr. Steubens and he will want to get started right away.”

“We’ll be ready for them, Barbara,” Burke called to her. He had just entered the room with a sheaf of print-outs. He set these on the workstation that Pete was using.

“Andy, these are all sorted by date. I think you’ll find what you need…” the telephone in the room bleated twice, and Burke interrupted himself to answer it. “Burke. Yes… no, that’s not right. Check the night-shift report…. Well, check it again… never mind, I’ll be right there.” Burke sighed as he hung up the phone. He breathed a soft oath and sighed.

“Trouble already?”

“It’s probably nothing… but I need to look into it anyway.” Burke glanced at his watch and frowned. “The State Department should be bringing our guest any minute now… Barbara, can I impose on you…?”

“No problem,” Barbara smiled, “I was planning on meeting Dr. Marlow’s car anyway. I’ll give him your excuses.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back.”

Pete swiveled around in his chair to face Spencer. “You seem very cheerful this morning.”

Barbara blushed a little, but she rolled her eyes and laughed. “I woke up with a sniffle this morning, and I think my cold medicine is making me hyper!” she said lightly. “I think I owe you an apology, Mr. Colsen… for the way I snapped at you and Dr. Burke, before,” she said. “I hope you can forgive me… sometimes I take my job a little too seriously.”

“Only sometimes…?” Pete said, softening the jibe with a grin. “I am prepared to forget about it… if you’ll call me Andy.”

The phone bleated once and a voice announced over the intercom, “Sir, State Department vehicle J-1765 is requesting entry access. I have granted clearance to Level one.”

Pete pressed the button on the side of the phone and said, “Thank you.” To Barbara, he said, “That will be Dr. Marlow’s car.”

“Thanks… excuse me, Mr. Colsen… I mean, Andy—I want to be in the garage when he arrives.” She hurried out of the office in a swirl of skirt and fragrance.

Pete shook his head a little and turned to begin reading the heap of paperwork Burke had left him.

The front wall of the office of the Director of Operations was transparent, overlooking the computer lab that took up most of the first level of the Kiva. Had be been watching, Pete would have seen Barbara hesitate as one technician haled her with a clipboard and a question. She paused long enough to listen and give her advice, then a telephone rang and she excused herself.

Her mind was on other things, but she heard the technician say something about a discrepancy, and she wondered idly if it were the same problem that Burke had gone to investigate.

She could see the long black car pulling into the garage through the inner windows. Dust coated the vehicle from its long drive across the desert. Barbara paused to check her reflection in the window before entering the garage.

The chauffeur had just pulled the door of the car open and a distinguished-looking older man stepped out, clutching a briefcase and an umbrella.

‘How very… British’, thought Barbara. Out loud she said, “Dr. Marlow! Our director, Dr. Burke, was delayed, so on behalf of Dr. Steubens and the Syndrex Corporation, I’d like to welcome you to the Kiva Laboratories.”

Marlow was caught off guard; the last thing he expected to see when he stepped out of the car was a bright, beautiful lady beaming a huge smile at him. He managed a polite “Thank you” without stammering, his hand automatically offering a gentlemanly greeting.

”Oh – I’m Barbara Spencer.” She shook his hand warmly.

Reassured by her confidence, Marlow smiled. “Oh, yes – yes, his assistant. He’s mentioned you in his letters.” ‘Karl left out the part about you being a lovely young woman, though,’ he added in his thoughts.

Barbara must have seen something of his thoughts in his eyes—or perhaps it was his accent that charmed her; she suddenly blushed and diverted attention from herself. ”Oh! Dr. Steubens is waiting for us down on the Third level. Follow me, please – the elevators are this way.” She led the way to the security kiosk where she automatically began the procedures to bring a guest into the labs. “If you’ll just stand completely within this circle. This’ll only take a moment.”

Marlow stood in the place she indicated. As he waited, a cone of light appeared, beamed down from the ceiling directly overhead, accompanied by a deep mechanical hum. There was no sensation other than a passing fancy that made him think about an episode of an American science-fiction television program that he had once seen. When the light disappeared, Marlow stepped out of the circle and follows his guide.

Barbara pressed a few buttons on a wall panel and put her hand in the opening; a green light appeared and caressed her palm. “Spencer, Barbara T. GL 773. Clearance to Level 3.” A door slid open with a hiss to reveal a pressurized elevator cabin.

Marlow was amused by all the gadgets. “Such tight security! Should I be flattered?”

”Standard procedure, I’m afraid.” The humility of her words were belied by the tone of pride in her voice as she described the lab. “The Kiva has the most advanced security of all the Syndrex Corporation’s.” The well-rehearsed speech that Dr. Steubens and she had composed spilled from her lips with ease. “Nothing moves in or out of here that isn’t constantly monitored and controlled.”

As the elevator descended, Barbara continued to rattle off interesting trivia concerning the laboratory. Even though Dr. Marlow listened attentively, she got the strange impression that he was not really hearing her. Suddenly, she felt like a tour guide in a very odd theme park.

They reached the third level but were forced to wait by a red light. When the air pressure from their rapid decent had equalized, a green light appeared and the doors slid open.

The hallway leading away from the lift were lined with observation walls, revealing labs busy with activity. Barbara led the way only a short distance, through a set of glass doors, and then they were in Steubens’ laboratory.

Steubens was waiting for his friend. “Sidney – dear Sidney, how are you?” He took his friend’s hand and shook it warmly, smiling with delight.

“I’m great – it’s good to see you, Karl!” Marlow was also delighted, but he was also a little taken-aback. Could this be the same dour, moody Karl Steubens he had known and worked with for many years?

”Well! Shall we start with a little tour of the facilities?” Barbara said, eager to begin.

Steubens cleared his throat; a subtle sign of dismissal to his assistant. “Eh, no, I’ve changed my mind about that.” At Barbara’s confused expression, he gave her elbow a gentle squeeze. “We have a serious matter to settle, face to face.”

Steubens turned to the chessboard he had carefully reconstructed. Barbara smiled and discreetly disappeared.

“As I recall your last Telex, it was queen to bishop 4.” Steubens gave his friend a challenging glance. “Yes, correct?”

Marlow laughed and relaxed. ‘Business before business,’ he thought ironically. “Uh-huh. You’ve countered with, um, rook to king’s fifth, uh . . . pure suicide, but far be it from me to stop you, Karl.”

Karl Steubens could not completely suppress his reaction to Marlow’s comment, but when he laughed he managed to make it sound like an amused chuckle.

He glanced up at the clock: 10:36 am.

‘Time to kill’, he thought dryly, and then he advanced his bishop to queen’s knight four.

Each man considered his moves carefully, and the play advanced slowly as the minutes counted down on the little timer under Karl Steubens’ desk. Steubens drew out his moves as long as he could, baiting his friend with both his knights. Marlow played defensively, pondering well before taking up those knights as well as two pawns, wondering what cunning strategy his friend was plotting.

“It’s your move, Karl,” Marlow prompted his friend, who appeared to be lost in thought.

”Oh, I – I know. “ But Steubens still hesitated. Marlow studied the game.

As the second hand on the clock in the lab inched toward the top of the hour, Steubens made his last move; rook to knight four.

“I’m sorry, Sidney,” Steubens said softly. He turned his head to regard the clock, bracing himself for eternity.

⌂

Barbara wasn’t sure what to do with herself; she had planned out a tour and arranged for everything to be ready for Dr. Steubens and Dr. Marlow if they wanted to get to work immediately. She should have guessed that they’d have to have their chess game first. She walked through the hallways for a few minutes, watching the activity without really concentrating on what was going on. As she passed the Metallurgy lab, she sneezed.

‘This wretched cold!’ she thought as she fished her handkerchief. The sharp edge of her cold capsules caught on the edge of the fabric and fell to the floor. She grumbled good-naturedly as she knelt to pick them up and stuffed them back into her pocket.

Since her office was back in Steuben’s lab, she decided to head back to her quarters and wait a half an hour to give ‘the boys’ a chance to finish their game.

Ahead, the elevator doors were sliding shut just as she rounded the corner. Without breaking stride, she turned and pushed open the door to the stairwell, reflecting that the exercise would be good for her.

There were a lot of steps up to Level two of the Kiva. By the time Barbara reached the top she had worked up a fierce thirst—due in part to the effects of her cold medicine. She was walking briskly toward the commissary, intent on getting a cup of hot tea, when the floor suddenly buckled beneath her feet.

A sound like thunder roared through the levels of the building, then the walls and floor convulsed again. Barbara threw herself down as pieces of the ceiling began to fall. She could hear cries of people in terror all around her, and she wondered that her voice wasn’t one of them. She was too stunned to make a sound.

~~~ tbc!

[Primula]

This was funny! :...a cone of light appeared, beamed down from the ceiling directly overhead, accompanied by a deep mechanical hum. There was no sensation other than a passing fancy that made him think about an episode of an American science-fiction television program that he had once seen...



Oi, what a place to end it - and she never even got her tea first!

[Lothithil]

One of the (myriad) things that I love about the TV show MacGyver, is the use of special effects to give the show that quality of super-normal fiction... strange, but not beyond reason. It helps me suspend disbelief and therefore makes some of the more outrageous 'macgyverisms' more enjoyable

Glad you're enjoying the story. Nothing like an earthquake for a cliffhanger, huh?

The reference to StarTrek you mentioned above was actually my own response the first time I saw this episode. *chuckles* I found myself thinking 'oh! KIVA's got a transporter! LOL!'

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

This was funny! :...a cone of light appeared, beamed down from the ceiling directly overhead, accompanied by a deep mechanical hum. There was no sensation other than a passing fancy that made him think about an episode of an American science-fiction television program that he had once seen...



Oi, what a place to end it - and she never even got her tea first!

What Prim said!

[Lothithil]

Chapter Eight: The Specialist

On the First level of the Kiva, the explosion caused very little structural damage. In fact, if it were not for the computers going completely haywire, Pete might have put the soft thump and shudder down to a minor earthquake; he was used to such things in L.A.

But this wasn’t L.A.—this was New Mexico, and earthquakes were virtually unheard of in this area. The voices of alarmed technicians were raised even before the sparks began to fly. The lights flickered and then died, and a fire alarm began to sound, further spreading panic among the confused people. Several minutes passed in darkness before the emergency backup generators kicked in, spreading a reddish illumination in the enclosed building.

With communications dead, Pete selected several people and sent them on foot bring back verbal reports of the status of the Kiva. He thought there might have been an explosion somewhere in the lower levels, but at first they couldn’t determine exactly where it had happened. The elevator was not working, the intercom to the lower levels only gave out static, and the stairwell was caved in – there was no telling how far the collapse extended. Pete directed a few hardy technicians to begin shifting debris.

The man who had been on the security detail that morning came into Pete’s office. He had a bruise on his forehead and was favoring one leg, but seemed otherwise unhurt. “Sir, by my report there are about twenty scientists checked into the lower levels this morning, including Dr. Steubens and his visitor. Everyone else was up here.”

“Oh, God,” Pete mumbled. “How many are hurt so far? Are you all right?”

“Just knocked myself a good one when I was trying to help dig out the stairwell. I don’t think we’re going to get too far… the debris keeps shifting.”

“Tell them to stop until we get some help here,” Pete said with a troubled sigh. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt, and there may be more damage. We won’t know until we learn what caused it. I ordered a triage set up in the garage; get yourself there.”

“I’m okay, sir. There are those worse off than me.” The man limped out of the office.

Gus, Dr. Burke’s assistant, poked his head into Pete’s office a moment later. “Sir! We’ve managed to get through to someone on the radio. Dr. Burke has called in the Army Rescue Unit from Fort Bliss. He said to tell you that he’s contacted the State Department for additional help.”

“Good. I’m going to get the power on up here and get things ready for them.”

“Very good, sir. Dr. Burke will be out in the comp-lab. The internal intercom system is functioning sporadically, but it came on just long enough for us to talk to one of the scientists trapped down on the third level.”

“Thank God they’re still alive!” Pete said. “Was it Steubens? Did he say what happened down there?”

“No, sir, it was Marlow. We couldn’t make out too much of what he was saying, other than that there was some kind of explosion and that he and Dr. Steubens are trapped in the lab. Dr. Steubens is injured, but we don’t know how badly.”

“It’s a miracle that they’re not dead. Keep me posted… I should have level one on-line with full power very soon.”

Gus nodded. “I’ll let you know more as we learn it, sir. Just holler if you need anything.”

“I could use some luck,” Pete muttered to himself, “and so could those poor devils trapped below… who knows how long they can hold out.”

⌂

Two hours later, things weren’t looking much better for the unfortunate souls trapped below the surface. Pete had managed to return power to the Kiva, but the intercom system was still unreliable, and the rescue team from Fort Bliss hadn’t arrived yet.

But Holloman Air Force Base was much closer to Bannon than either White Sands or Ft. Bliss, and a division of the US Army Corp of Engineers stationed there had responded with record speed, arriving with men and equipment to grateful cheers of the Kiva survivors. They soon renewed the attempt to excavate the stairwell, but quickly desisted; there was just too much unstable debris. They decided to pull back and wait for the specialist that the State Department was trying to locate. He was flying by helicopter, but it would take some time before he arrived… if indeed he could be persuaded to come.

Army engineers do not sit on their hands very well, so they did what they could, shoring up the damage in the first level of the Kiva and tending to the injured. As soon as the equipment was shipped in by air they began to drill, hoping to increase the air supply to those who might still be alive below. Still, it felt to them as if they were doing nothing.

⌂

MacGyver stood on the roof-terrace of the observatory, waving to the car that was pulling out of the drive and onto the road that wound down the mountain. He could see Reggie and Jackie waving back at him through the rear window.

He was glad that they had enjoyed their time with him. The excitement of the eclipse and the viewing had made the time pass quickly. Reggie had wanted to stay through the weekend, but his mother came by to pick him and his sister up promptly at noon. Reggie managed to wring a promise from Mac that he would come and play basketball with him tomorrow afternoon.

As he watched the car disappear around the bend of the road, Mac heard the throb of helicopter blades biting the air. He turned and shielded his eyes from the glare of the regenerated sun, trying to read the markings on the sides of the ‘copter.

As the blue and white craft circled the observatory and settled in the road in front of the Space Monument, MacGyver felt a prickling of excitement, tainted somewhat by a twinge of guilt that he was probably going to wind up breaking his promise to Reggie.

He turned away from the view just as the skids touched the asphalt, hastening down the stairs and out of the building before whoever was inside the helicopter had managed to wrestle the door open and climb out.

As he strode across the grass, Mac recognized Ed Gantner; an employee of the State Department and one of Mac’s friends. Gantner’s face was grim, and from way he was walking Mac could tell he was not altogether happy about being there, doing what he was about to do.

Mac hailed him before he managed to cross the lawn. “Tell me you were just in a hurry to see me, and there’s no bad news.”

Gantner stepped awkwardly around Mac, heading toward the observatory entrance. “Uhhh . . . I was just in a hurry to see you, and, uh . . . save the bad news till we get inside.” He kept walking as if he didn’t want Mac to come any nearer to the helicopter.

Mac stopped on the spot, stubbornly calling his friend back. “Ah, Gant – Gant… c’mon, let’s have it.”

Gantner sighed and reluctantly paced back to where Mac was standing. “All right. An accident in New Mexico. A lab that handles a lot of classified research. Something set off a series of explosions.”

Mac frowned. “How bad?”

"Well, most of the personnel got out, but at least twenty are still unaccounted for. Among them is a top British scientist named Marlow. He was here visiting one of our own men, Steubens. They’re also both candidates for the Nobel Prize this year . . . not exactly the kind of publicity the State Department wants to hear."

"They still alive?"

"They survived the blast, but they’re still trapped in the lab. They calculate the chances of anyone getting through to Marlow and Steubens is . . ." Gantner hesitated, afraid to quote the odds, “…well, it’s not great.”

"Well, give me ‘not great’ on a scale of one to ten," Mac demanded with a touch of exasperation.

"Minus three," Gantner said bluntly. “That’s why we couldn’t order anyone to try. So, uh . . . your name came up.”

"What other options do they have?"

Gantner said nothing, but he looked extremely uncomfortable.

MacGyver made a wry grin. “I’m it, aren’t I?”

Gantner nodded. “You’re it. Now look, Mac,” he hastened to add, ”you don’t have to take this assignment – you know that…”

MacGyver took a moment to consider, but really his mind had been made up even before the helicopter had landed. He wanted something to do… and this challenge was too great to resist.

A chill ran down his back; a surge of adrenaline called up by the promise of action. MacGyver shook himself slightly, and then he looked his friend and said, “Call the lab, Gant. Tell ‘em we’re on our way.”

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

They survived?! I didn't think they would...

This made me laugh:

MacGyver made a wry grin. “I’m it, aren’t I?”

[Lothithil]

Chapter Nine: Dressing for Danger 101

Mac’s Voice-Over:
And now for a lesson from Professor MacGyver in Dressing for Danger 101; Start out with a long sleeve shirt of a light but strong material, preferably cotton, and a pair of sturdy pants. I like the cargo pockets…gives me lots of places to put useful things that a guy might need. Add a flannel over-shirt—I’ve lived in California for several years now, but I still haven’t shaken the habit of layering… blame it on Minnesota!

Let’s see… I’ll need a good pair of shoes… no telling what I’m going to have to walk through or climb over. And a jacket—it’ll be warm enough in New Mexico, but I can expect a drafty ride in some military helicopter before I get there.

Now the pockets: let’s take some matches… duct tape in the back pocket—you never know when that will be useful—oh, and don’t forget the trusty old Swiss Army pocket knife. Now I feel ready for anything!

Time is of the essence, but it only takes one more moment to look around for something else that might be useful. I spot my game bag hanging on the closet doorknob, so I grab it up and sling it over my shoulder. Something heavy bumps into my spine as I dash up the stairs, and I realize that my binoculars are still in there from my last mission… but that’s okay; no time to unpack them now; there are people who needed help and Gantner is waiting in the ‘copter.

Ed Gantner was indeed waiting, anxiously shifting from one foot to the other in the shadow of the Space Monument. His wristwatch told him that MacGyver had only been inside for ten minutes, but it seemed more like an hour, and when he did appear—walking swiftly across the springy lawn in front of the Observatory—it seemed as if his every move was in slow motion.

Gantner was trying to resist the urge to pace. He was trained to handle emergencies like this, but the incidents at the Kiva were pushing his ability to remain detached to the limit; a multimillion dollar lab facility chock-full of government research projects destroyed… an unknown number of lives lost… TWO Noble Prize-nominated scientists missing or dead—one of whom he was personally responsible to keep safe while he was visiting the U.S. –All of these things were adding up to make Ed Gantner one very unhappy and nervous person.

But it wasn’t really his career that Gantner was worried about now; it was MacGyver that concerned him the most. He had just had to ask a friend to dive into the middle of all this… and he knew MacGyver well enough to know that he would try to help no matter how the odds were stacked against him.

Gantner had known MacGyver for a few of years; they had met during a joint mission between the State Department and the DXS, when Mac had recently been recruited. Gantner had expected MacGyver to just get in the way, like any other raw recruit. But as it turned out, MacGyver wound up saving the day—and Gantner had wound up owing him his life.

He hated to put MacGyver in this situation; it seemed a poor way to repay the debt of life that he felt existed between them—but his superiors had ordered him to enlist Mac’s help. Brainstorming had been going on in the State Department Building, everyone trying to figure out what to do to save the research that had cost them so many millions of tax-payer dollars. When General so-and-so from the Pentagon had said something about MacGyver’s work in Asia , that had convinced everyone that he was the only one man who could possibly help.

But MacGyver was more than an agent or an operative to Ed Gantner… he was a friend.

MacGyver seemed to read something of Gantner’s concern in his expression. MacGyver slapped him on the shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile. "Come on, Gant! Let’s do this thing!" He sounded as jaunty and cheerful as if he was on his way to a hockey scrimmage.

"Mac, are you sure you want to…?" but MacGyver was already climbing into the chopper, shouting a greeting to the pilots over the sound of the idling rotors, a look of boyish excitement lighting his face. Gantner followed him numbly.

The helicopter lifted and turned, cutting the air like an arrow toward a nearby private airstrip.

⌂

The flight was over in a matter of minutes and when they landed, there was a young officer waiting beside the landing pad. She saluted the two men sharply and handed a shipping tube to Gantner, then pointed to a Cessna corporate jet that was waiting on the tarmac.

“General Hawkins’ compliments, gentlemen! Our pilot has orders to bring you to Holloman AFB, where you will be taken by transport helicopter to the site. Those are the documents which you requested, sir.” She hustled both men toward the plane.

“Thank you.” Gantner passed the tube to MacGyver, “You might find these useful, Mac.”

MacGyver looked at the ‘Top Secret: Eyes Only’ seal on the tube and said, “Good thinking, Gant… good to have friends in High Places!”

Gantner frowned. “It’s the least we can do… considering what you’re about to risk…”

MacGyver seemed not to hear the pessimism in Gantner’s voice. As soon as they were aboard the jet, he settled into a seat next to a sturdy table. Ignoring both the opulence of the decor and the fully-stocked wet bar, he buckled himself in and unrolled the blueprints and schematic graphs of the Kiva Laboratory.

Once the jet was airborn, Gantner got up and went to the bar. He poured two glasses of iced ginger ale, resisting an urge to lace his own with something stronger. He set one of the glasses beside Mac, and then spent half an hour watching the ice melt as his friend poured over the graphs and make notes in the margins with a pencil.

“Exactly what kinds of research do they do at this place?” MacGyver asked suddenly, startling Gantner out of an unscheduled doze.

Gantner blinked guiltily; he hadn’t meant to sleep. “I-I can’t tell you, Mac.”

Mac raised an eyebrow and frowned. “Can’t… or won’t?”

“I honestly don’t know,” Gantner said. “It’s top-top secret stuff. All I can say for sure is that the Army and the Air Force both have close ties with this facility, as well as the British Foundation for Energy Research. That’s where Sidney Marlow works. And he is the reason that I was able to get these graphs… you wouldn’t believe the kind of strings I had to pull!” Gantner shook his head.

“Yes I would,” MacGyver said wryly. “They don’t happen to be serving lunch on this flight, are they?” he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Sorry, Mac! There’s only the bar… no food. I might be able to find some peanuts or something…”

“Never mind… this will have to do,” Mac said, and he drank down the ginger-ale. He dried his hands carefully before he continued to handle the papers.

⌂

Pete sighed as he lit another cigarette; it was easy to forget that he had quit smoking—especially under the stressful conditions of the ruined Kiva. He began to reread all the data that he’d received, trying to make heads-or-tails of the confused tangle of code that the limping computers were finally dispersing. He was interrupted when Burke appeared in the doorway, looking more harassed than ever.

Before Pete could even formulate a question, Burke said, “Bad news, Colsen. They had to stop drilling.”

“Why? There could be survivors that we haven’t contacted! Steubens and Marlow are still…”

“They hit acid,” Burke said bitterly, kicking the bottom of a cabinet lightly to vent his frustration; an unusual demonstration of temper for Burke. “Hydrochloric acid… probably the explosion ruptured the big tank we have down on Three…” Burke stopped speaking and closed his eyes. Pete recognized that he was trying to get his emotions in check; he waited patently for Burke to continue.

After a moment, Burke spoke again as if he had not paused. “If the acid is leaking out, then we have to consider getting control of that as our top priority. I don’t want to abandon the people who are trapped below… but we have to be realistic and consider that acid as a potential risk for the environmental health of the area… hundreds of people may be harmed.”

Pete wasn’t sure what to say; this was grim news indeed. Burke spared him the need to compose a statement by saying firmly, “Andy, I need you to stay on top of things in here. We’ve got to do everything to try to get Marlow and Steubens out.”

“How?” Pete asked, unable to keep the sound of his own frustration out of his voice.

“The State Department has found some lunatic who has volunteered to try to get into the lower levels and affect a rescue attempt, and they are flying him in now. I want you to find a way to get him inside. Go over every detail of the schematics! I want to know every vent, access tunnel, air shaft, nook, cranny, and rat hole in this complex--whoever this screwball is, he’s going to need every ounce of help we can provide!

"I’ve got to go and supervise the removal of the Kiva’s central processing data before we loose it all… and try to get Marlow or Steubens back on the intercom.”

“What about the acid?” Pete asked.

Burke shook his head. “The Army’s working on that question… and I’m sure we’re not going to like the answer.”

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Oh dear, not good. But, since it's Mac, the odds are much better.

[Lothithil]

Chapter Ten: The Ant Farm

Mac’s Voice-over:
I don’t think I’ve ever traveled anywhere faster than I traveled from L.A. to Bannon, New Mexico. I spent as much time as I could going over the layout of the underground laboratory, but when we arrived at Holloman AFB and transferred to the helicopter, there was no more time; the craft zipped toward the lab at top speed, and I had to keep the fragile sheaf of papers in their protective tube or the wind would have shredded them.

As we came in over the desert, I saw a lot of military vehicles and a couple of large tents. There were people swarming all around the place; it looked like an ant hill that had been kicked over by an ornery child. I saw drilling equipment, but there was no exhaust coming from the great engine, and the engineers were standing around with their hands on their hips. It’s hard to tell from a couple of hundred feet, but they looked stumped to me.

I guess whatever they were doing, it wasn’t going well.

Gant's got a strange look on his face—somewhere between worry and fury. I know he feels bad about calling me in on this… but what choice did he have, really?

Gantner jumped slightly when MacGyver tapped a finger on his headset. He fumbled for a second to turn on the radio so he could hear Mac’s voice, but there was something wrong with the receiver. He pointed to his ears and shrugged.

Mac lifted the cuffs from Gantner’s ear and shouted, “Wha’cha doing next weekend, Gant?”

Gantner shook his head; he either didn’t hear Mac right or he didn’t understand. Mac shouted again, “If I pull this thing off, I want a favor in return!”

“Anything!” Gantner shouted back. “What do you want?”

Mac mimed dribbling a ball and shooting a basket. Gantner’s eyebrows rose toward his hairline. He pointed at himself. “You want me to play basketball?!”

“With my Little Brother!” Mac called back. “You,” Mac pointed at Gantner, then himself, “me—and Reggie—on the courts—Three Man Out!”

“Mac!” Gantner shook his head, crossing his hands as if calling ‘time out’, “I’m no good… I can’t!”

“You gotta!” Mac leveled a finger at him. “You OWE me!”

Gantner sighed and muttered something that Mac understood clearly even though he couldn’t hear a syllable. Mac grinned madly and buffeted Gantner on the shoulder. Gantner rocked with the motion, unable to keep the grin off of his own face.

⌂

Barbara was awake long before she opened her eyes and uncurled herself from where she had huddled on the floor. A part of her was stunned—petrified. She was afraid that if she thought about anything too much, she would realize that she was dead… or worse: buried alive.

She did finally sit up and take stock of herself. The corridor she had been walking down was dark, and pieces of the walls and ceiling were lying around indecently on the once-hygienically clean floor. The air was thick with smoke or dust—Barbara wasn’t ready to think about fires, yet; burning to death was right up there with ‘being buried alive’ on her list of ‘Things I Don’t Ever Want To Do’.

Climbing unsteadily to her feet, she looked around. The elevator was a few feet away, past a vending machine that had toppled and shattered, its sugary contents scattered across the floor. She walked around the mess and pressed the button several times to call the elevator... to no effect. She turned around, unsure of what to do or where to go. Then she remembered that she had been on her way to the commissary when the sky fell. She picked her way down the hall, leaning against the wall to steady herself.

The door to the commissary was hanging half off of its hinges. Barbara looked through the gap to see if there was anyone inside. She turned away swiftly, covering her mouth in horror. The ceiling had completely collapsed, and from beneath the pile of rubble Barbara could see someone’s feet, a woman’s—still clad in stylish pumps. Barbara forced herself to push aside the door and check to see if there was anyone else in the room who might have survived. She found no one.

She stood for a moment, staring at the unfortunate woman’s feet. Who had she been? She didn’t recognize the shoes, nor could she think clearly enough to guess who might have been in the commissary at this hour. Barbara knelt and gently removed one shoe, hoping that it could be used to identify the victim if she managed to get herself out.

The urge to escape from this tomb hit Barbara hard, with all the adrenaline that panic can provide. She had to steady herself against the wall again, but this time to prevent herself from sprinting across the littered floor, searching for an exit. It wouldn’t do to sprain an ankle or fall through a hole in the floor!

Breathing deeply, Barbara leaned against the wall and tried to think of the best way out. With no elevator, the stairs would serve to get through the sublevels to the main biology lab. From there, an emergency stairwell climbed to the first level.

Clutching the shoe in one hand, she resolutely set out. She found the stairwell, the steps littered with fractured concrete and dirt, but passable. She climbed steadily, thinking with sudden hope that she might be able to get all the way to the surface, but after a long breathless scramble she was disappointed. The upper flights of the stairwell were clogged with debris from where one wall had collapsed; she had to backtrack to find an exit, which deposited her in one of the access corridors below the bio lab.

From there, she picked her way in the semi-darkness, dodging broken electrical lines and piles of shattered glass. With the elevators out and the stairwell blocked, there was only one other access that she knew of—a maintenance ladder reached up through the sublevels, designed to provide access to the heating and air conditioning vents of the various levels and sublevels. The ladder was fifty feet high at a stretch, made out of reinforced steel and braced. She prayed that it was still intact.

As she was making her way to the maintenance area when she heard somebody cough. She turned around, trying to locate the direction it was coming from.

“Hello?” She called tentatively.

“Who’s there?” A man stumbled through a doorway ahead, looking around vaguely. He was a tall, thin fellow in a lab coat, one of the staff scientists; Barbara thought she recognized him but she couldn’t remember his name.

“Spencer—Barbara Spencer. Are you all right?” The man’s face was streaming with blood, and one of the sleeves of his coat was ripped.

“I’m alive… I guess that’s something.” He squinted at Barbara. “I lost my glasses when… what happened?”

“I’m not sure. An explosion, I think,” Barbara said. Just being with a living, breathing person made her feel better—a little more in control. “You’re bleeding…”

“Oh.” The man prodded the wound on his cheek with insensitive fingers. “Ouch. You’re the first person I’ve seen since… the first person alive, that is.” The man swallowed convulsively. He fumbled in his pocket for a linen handkerchief, dropping it in the process. Barbara picked it up and shook it out.

“Yeah.” Barbara didn’t elaborate; she didn’t need to. “What’s your name?” She folded the cloth into a bandage.

“Dobbson. I was in the bio lab and had to come down to the storage room for some baseline solution… “ He stopped talking, wincing as Barbara pressed the bandage to his face. “I lost my glasses—I’m blind as a bat without them.”

“Well, I’m on my way up and out of here,” Barbara said, forcing some cheer into her words. She took one of his hands and placed it over the bandage. “Now hold this in place, and put your other hand on my shoulder.”

“The elevators are out of service,” he mumbled as they began to move forward slowly.

“I know. We’re going up a different way.”

“Sounds good. Th-thank you. For helping me.”

Barbara couldn’t think of what to say to that. She led the way firmly, going slow and steady, drawing strength from the dependent touch of Dobbson’s hand.

Barbara and Dobbson found the service shaft as undamaged as fortune would allow. She told Dobbson to start up the ladder, but he demurred.

“Ladies first. That way, if I slip and fall off, I won’t take you with me.” When she hesitated, he smiled and patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry… I’ll be right behind you. I won’t let you out of my sight, and considering that I can barely see—I shall be very close indeed!”

They began to climb. Barbara had thrust the woman’s shoe into the belt of her dress so that she could use both hands; she needed them. The going was not easy, and all the bruises and bumps she had not felt before were now singing loudly under her skin. She ignored the discomfort and went on.

“You okay down there, Dobbson?” she called after a few dozen feet. She didn’t really want to look down, but she did.

Dobbson tilted his face up, a rakish grin on his face. “I’m fine… but I do wish I had my glasses.”

“I’m glad that you don’t,” Barbara quipped, “you’d be looking up my skirt right now if you did!”

“Oh… my.” Dobbson blushed a little as he laughed. “I am cursed!”

At the top of the ladder – the highest sublevel of Level Two – the lights were flickering but at least they were on. Although there were some signs of damage, it was nothing like what they had seen so far. Hope rose again in Barbara’s heart that they had found a way out. She took Dobbson’s hand in hers and walked them cautiously toward the bio lab.

There were voices ahead – real, living, human voices – and Barbara let out a sigh as they turned a corner. Down the hallway past the elevator was the bio lab, and Barbara could see a group of people standing there. A part of her realized that this likely meant that they had found no way to the surface, but she couldn’t shake the elation she felt at finding more survivors. She took Dobbson’s elbow and hurried him forward.

Just as they started down the hallway, there came an alarming groaning sound from the walls and ceiling. Barbara shouted and broke into a run, dragging Dobbson with her as the ceiling began to sag and the wall buckled, then rained down an avalanche of dirt and debris, completely clogging the hallway, and effectively sealing the survivors inside the lab.

Barbara didn’t stop running until she reached the safety of a solid wall. She released Dobbson and let herself sink down until she was sitting on the floor. She suddenly realized that the shoe that she had brought so far with her was gone, dropped somewhere along the way.

She decided it was time to let herself cry.

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

ACK!!! I'd hate being in that situation!

This is a great paragraph:

She did finally sit up and take stock of herself. The corridor she had been walking down was dark, and pieces of the walls and ceiling were lying around indecently on the once-hygienically clean floor. The air was thick with smoke or dust—Barbara wasn’t ready to think about fires, yet; burning to death was right up there with ‘being buried alive’ on her list of ‘Things I Don’t Ever Want To Do’.

I like your use of "indecently" and the list.

[Lothithil]

Note from Loth: Sorry about the long delay between posts! Life is unbelievably busy lately! The good news... this fic is now complete. I will try to be more consistent at posting the chapters.

Read on!

The Rainmakers, ch 11
The Screwball

“At this time there is no other option,” Keele’s voice was as inflexible as his posture and as cold as the silver birds shining on his collar. He handed Burke a sheet of paper with an official-looking seal embossed into the letterhead. “The tankers are on their way and will be here in approximately five and a half hours.”

“That will destroy everything!” Burke objected, “as well as killing any survivors trapped by the collapsed stairwell! Sodium hydroxide can’t be the only solution. We could use – “

“It’s the only solution we can arrange quickly enough,” Keele interrupted firmly. “My duty is to prevent that acid from reaching the Rio Grande .” Keele turned toward Pete, who had been listening and suppressing the urge to shout down both men. “Back me up, Colsen ... are there any other options?”

Pete didn’t know what to say; the NaOH had been his own suggestion – sent in covertly through the Federal Department to the Army so that his undercover identity would not be revealed. But before he could speak to deny or agree with the colonel, Burke interrupted him:

“We have someone coming to help ... he’s due to arrive any second now! He might be able to do something from the inside if we give him enough time ... ”

Pete was taken aback. “You can’t still seriously be considering sending that guy down ... the lower levels of the KIVA are a death-trap!” Pete gestured toward the ruin of the stairwell, where all excavation attempts had been driven back in failure. “Charlie, I’m sorry ... but nobody is coming up out of there alive, and only an insane man would try to go down there now – even if he can find a way in!”

“It might not be as bad as all that,” Burke argued. “The generators on the Third Level are still operating – that’s where we’re drawing power from now. I take that as an indication that Steubens and Marlow could still be alive – the most sever damage must be on the Second Level. There’s a chance that they can be reached – there has to be some kind of access! We have to try!”

Colonel Keele regarded Burke evenly. “I have my orders, Director.” Then he turned on his polished heel and strode out of the command center.

Burke wadded up the paper containing the memo from Washington declaring the doom of the KIVA and threw it after him weakly, muttering something that sounded to Pete like “Stiff-necked jarhead!”

“When you sent for this man,” Pete said softly, “our timetable was based on air supply.” Pete regarded the wall clock solemnly. “That has been cut almost in half now. If he gets here in the next quarter hour he’ll only have about 5 hours – until the tankers arrive. We’ve got to start pumping that sodium hydroxide in as soon as they get here ... the ecological impact could be catastrophic, otherwise.”

“All right.” Burke said grimly. “This guy will have to do what he can do in 5 hours ... Gus, get me the paperwork on the expert that Gantner is bringing in.”

But Gus didn’t hear his request; he had one hand clamping a headset to his ear and was excitedly turning dials and knobs on a console with the other. “Dr. Burke! I think we may be getting through again!”

Burke grabbed the handset and pressed it to his ear. “Dr. Marlow? Dr. Steubens? Gentlemen, can you hear me?”

A long moment passed before a response stuttered from the speaker. “Yes, just-just a little. I-I-I think K-K-Karl is – regaining consciousness, but he’s-we do need a doctor down here –” The green lights on the console faded to red as the weak voice was overtaken by static.

Burke plugged his free ear with a finger. “Dr. Marlow? Hello?”

“Sorry, sir, we lost him,” Gus announced grimly.

Burke thrust the receiver into his hands. “Keep trying!” He turned to Pete. “Any chance that we have to get them out alive, Colsen, we’re going to try! And if Gantner’s expert is willing to go down there, then I’m not going to try to talk him out of it!” Burke leveled a glare at Pete. “And neither are you!”

⌂

Mac’s Voice-Over:
I’d been glad of the warmth of my flannel shirt and jacket as we whipped through the air toward Bannon, but the helicopter hadn’t even settled onto the dusty ground before I was longing to rip them off. The heat of the desert reached up to catch us, and sweat was already soaking into the band of my baseball cap and starting to trickle down my back as I released the catch on my safety harness. The huge blades of the helicopter spun down as we waited, uncomfortably, for our military escort. Gant sat chewing on his lip until at last a man came running up, one hand holding his helmet in place as he jogged toward us.

Gant bailed out first, grabbing the soldier’s hand. I saw birds on the collar of his fatigues, but I missed reading the name printed on his breast pocket. If our military escort was a full colonel, then security was indeed still tight around this lab. I wondered how much red tape I was going to have to tunnel through before I actually got inside. Hopefully, Gant would be able to cut through the worst of it for me.

I grabbed my gamebag and stuck my head under the strap and followed them. It felt good to stretch my legs after being in the cramped helicopter, in spite of the oppressive heat.

From the outside, the Kiva Laboratories did not seem very impressive. In fact, it looked like an old radio station, abandoned and left to be swallowed by the desert. The colonel led us through the hustle of EMS people and soldiers, helping bruised and battered people into the fleet of ambulances that were squatting around the place, lights flashing with insistent impotency. Most of the injuries seemed to be superficial, but there were some in quite serious condition. I spotted one man who had a wicked burn on his arm – most likely electrical but I couldn’t be sure without asking the paramedic – but our guide didn’t slow down so I didn’t have time.

The brief walk to the lab left me sweating heavily; I took my cap off and shoved it into my bag. But as we stepped between the guards through the door that led into the complex, it felt like I’d walked face-first into a deep-freeze. Instantly the skin on my arms and legs were covered with goose bumps, and the sweat dripping down my back became an icicle. I decided to keep my jacket on for the time being!

On the blueprints this area had been described as a garage, but it was now a triage, filled with the victims of this disaster. Off to one side, with a single soldier standing guard, were several sad figures draped with white sheets.

Suddenly, the cold I was feeling didn’t have anything to do with the AC. I forced myself to keep moving.

The garage area and the main computer control room beyond it were aswarm with people. Colonel Keele cut through the human tide like a knife, followed closely by Gantner. A team of firefighters rushed past; Mac fell back and let them pass while the other men went on ahead into the computer lab. Mac used the time to look around and get his bearings.

Most of the damage on this level seemed to have been done to the computers; overloads had blown out several panels, and there men and women were working diligently – some desperately – to coax information from the crippled systems. The indicator lights on many of the computers were flashing red or not working at all. As Mac watched, a pair of soldiers entered the computer lab and rounded up a few techs that had been unable to revive their stations, insisting firmly that they join the evacuation.

Mac’s Voice-over continues:
Either they had had a lot of people to evacuate, or they were only just getting started. It made me wonder – oh yes it did – about what had changed since I had initially been briefed.

Oh, well… I hadn’t really expected it to be too easy …

As the people filed out, I received a mixture of stares; hopeful, confused, resentful – and one of pity that made my stomach twist.

Something kicked over in my mind and right then! – my fear and doubt evaporated. I had a job to do – lives that depended on me. I was determined to see this through.

A feeling of excitement and anticipation spread through me, driving away the last of my chill; I readjusted the strap across my shoulder and pushed through the stream of people to where Gant and the colonel were waiting.

Over the susurrus murmur of people, a woman’s voice broadcast over the loudspeaker, demanding attention with the stilted tones of computer urgency. Mac was still looking around, comparing what he saw with his mental notes of the layout of the laboratory. Ahead of him, Gantner and Colonel Keele were speaking to a harried-looking man whose dark hair looked as if it had acquired shots of grey within the last few hours. Mac couldn’t quite hear what he was saying, but his body language made it clear that he and the colonel were not friends.

Then Mac saw something ... or rather, someone … that nearly made him stop dead in his tracks. Through a glass partition, he could see into another smaller office, raised a few feet above the floor of the computer lab. A familiar balding head was bent over a computer: Pete Thornton – in the flesh – right in the thick of things, as usual!

MacGyver felt his jaw drop open, but before he could utter any words of surprise he was jostled by a technician who couldn’t see over her armload of files. Mac steadied her with a hand on her arm. When he looked up again, he saw Pete looking straight back at him through the glass.

Pete didn’t look surprised to see MacGyver. He looked furious. As Mac watched, Pete took a cigarette out of his pocket and placed it in his mouth. With unnecessary force he struck a lighter, lit the cigarette. But instead of letting the lighter die, he took the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out the flame – like a birthday candle. Then he turned away before anyone else noticed.

MacGyver took a deep breath and continued forward to catch up with Gantner and Keele. No one in the busy room had noticed the wordless exchange between the two men.

Mac’s Voice-over:
My mind was racing like crazy ... which I think would be normal under any circumstances, but seeing my friend Pete Thornton here – it kind of solidified my suspicion that there was something going on here below the surface of things. No pun intended.

What was Pete trying to tell me? He knew I wouldn’t blow his cover,whatever it was, but I could tell he wasn’t overjoyed to see me here, at this time.

My pulse was racing as fast as my mind now. I still had a job to do ... and by the look of things, it was going to be dangerous.

As dangerous as any crazy kid from Minnesota could hope.

Mac caught up with Gantner and Keele just as the colonel said, “I better keep things moving outside. I’ll check in with you later.”

Burke gave a curt nod and said, “Good.” Mac wondered if it was supposed to convey approval of Keele’s vigilance, or relief at the man’s absence from Burke’s immediate presence.

Gantner performed introductions. “Charlie Burke, this is MacGyver. Charlie’s director of the lab,” he added as Mac leaned forward and shook Burke’s hand.

This time, Burke’s relief was genuine. “Thank you for coming.”

Mac’s eyes were drawn to the rows of indicator lights flashing upon the various computer terminals. The unit that Burke was standing beside appeared to be in the best repair of all the others. From where he stood, he could see that it was monitoring the lower levels with a row of dials, showing power readings, pressure, heat, and oxygen. Level Two seemed to be in the most trouble; the dials were mostly laid over in the red.

Glancing around to soak up as much information as he could – and deliberately not looking toward the booth where Pete was working – MacGyver asked, “How’s it stand right now?”

“Well, Marlow’s fine; Steubens was unconscious for a while, but he’s coming around, and we’ve been unable to maintain any communication for more than two seconds at a time.” Burke’s voice delivered this news in a flat-businesslike rush. He was watching MacGyver closely, wondering if the man was actually paying attention to him. Would he refuse to attempt the rescue, or was he simply too distracted to realize how much danger he was placing himself in? He looked young and tough, physically able to face a challenge of this magnitude, but mentally – ? The jury was still out, Burke decided.

“You got any idea what set it off?”

“An explosion on the Third Level somehow made its way to the First, but past that, we’re guessing.”

“Any chance it could have had anything to do with their research?” MacGyver asked matter-of-factly.

“No, no, no no no…” Burke was quickly dismissive of the suggestion. “Steuben’s research had to do with magnetic fields in the ozone layer.”

Mac perked up as he heard this. “Rainmakers?” he asked, thinking back on the ‘message’ that Pete had left for him.

“Yup.”

Umbrella, huh, Pete? Clever old son of a gun ... MacGyver kept his thoughts off of his face and asked, “You sure this was an accident, right?”

Burke gave his answer with a touch of heat. “Given the security of the Kiva laboratories, I don’t see how it could be anything else.”

“Yeah, right,” MacGyver breathed softly. “Ah, you got somebody I can talk specifics with?” He waved the roll of schematics he had tucked under his arm.

“Andy Colsen is our Chief of Operations,” Burke answered.

“Awright, let’s have him!” Mac announced with a touch of gung-ho. “That ten hours can’t be gettin’ any longer.” He turned and began to unroll the sheaf of papers on a table.

Burke hastily cleared more space for him, before papers and objects could be shoved onto the floor. “Get Colsen down here.” Gus nodded and hurried off. “Now, we started to drill an air hole from the outside, but we had to stop.”

Gantner frowned up from the drawings. “Why’s that?”

“We hit sulfuric acid.” The look on Burke’s face showed clearly that he wished he didn’t have such bad news to report. He was afraid that he was going to inadvertently talk MacGyver out of the rescue attempt. “The explosion must have ruptured one of the tanks, and that’s – well, it’s – it’s leaking into the ground.”

“Has it reached the aquifer yet?” Mac asked quickly.

Gantner had no clue what the men were talking about. “Whoa, whoa – what’s – ”

Burke explained patiently, “The aquifer – it’s a layer of underground water – in this case, it leads into the Rio Grande. Now, if the acid hits the river, we’re going to poison most of this state, Texas, and Mexico.”

“What can you do about it?”

“Well, we can neutralize it – but in order to do that, we have to flood the entire complex with sodium hydroxide.”

Gantner frowned again. “What’s that?”

Mac, his face sober from what he was learning, said quietly to his friend, “Let’s just say that it’s the same stuff they use to clean the flesh off of skeletons.”

“You’re kidding.” Mac shook his head slightly. To Burke, Gantner said, “Is that true?”

“Yeah. There’s a convoy of tankers on the way right now.”

Mac turned and gave Burke a pointed look. “So it’s not ten hours any more.”

Burked glanced up at the clock. “No – ah, given the rate of flow of the acid, I’d say you have a little under five hours, my friend,” he said bluntly.

“Why, you’re just taking all the fun outta this, Charlie.” Gantner gaped at him, but Mac ignored him. He drew Burke’s attention back to the drawings. “Can you show me where that tank is?”

Burke was relieved that MacGyver hadn’t run screaming out of the Kiva. He indicated a spot on the schematic drawing. “Right there. Third level – 300 feet below ground.”

Mac felt a familiar presence. He turned in time to see Pete ambling toward him, lighting a fresh cigarette. Of all the people in this place ... could it be…? Mac felt a smile growing up inside. “You Colsen?” If Pete is ‘Colsen’, then things are better for me than I’d hoped.

Pete took the cigarette out of his mouth to say, “That’s right. You must be the screwball.”

Mac’s smile broke across his face; he couldn’t help it.

Burke misread the situation, luckily. He admonished his Chief of Operations with a gentle, “Andy, c’mon.”

MacGvyer recovered himself quickly, though he couldn’t quite wipe his expression of relief entirely away

Still grinning, Mac turned back to Burke and the schematics. “It doesn’t make much sense to go over every level right now. If you can wire me for two-way, you can fill me in as I get to each one. First problem, though, is to get me inside.” Mac dragged his glance from Gantner to Burke, then he swung and spoke directly to ‘Colsen.’ “You got any ideas on that?”

“The only way to get down to the First Level is through the elevator, and we can’t even open the doors up here. The whole shaft is protected by laser.” The whole of Pete’s bearing and voice communicated his displeasure and reluctance in sending his friend down into a Hell-pit.

“Infrared or gas-discharged?” Mac expressed only curiosity in his voice, but the sobriety and negativity that had gripped him before seemed now to have evaporated – in a puff of cigarette smoke.With Pete on his side, Mac knew his chances of success had increased exponentially.

Pete regarded him levelly, his own expression geared to conveying to everyone in the room that he thought that he was talking to a lunatic. “Gas. CO2. Ten thousand watts.”

Mac let out a whistle and winced. “You boys take your elevator shafts pretty seriously.” He paused, his eyes caught by something in Pete’s shirt pocket. “Spare a cigarette?”

“Oh, sure.” Pete took the pack out of his pocket and tapped them loose to offer one to MacGyver. A last cigarette for a condemned man, he thought morosely.

Mac closed his hand around the pack and took it from Pete’s hand, slipping them inside his bag. “Thank you.”

Pete regarded him with annoyance. “Take the pack, why don’t you? Want my lighter, too?”

“No, thanks ... I carry my own matches,” Mac replied absently, already refocused on the plans. Burke and Gantner had been watching the demonstration; Burke turned back to work with a wry grin on his face. “Now, this wiring duct here – it looks like it runs into the elevator shaft. Does it?”

“Yeah, it does. And it’s got a grate on the opening; but that’s not gonna do you any good. You’re still gonna draw the laser there.”

“That’s what I’m countin’ on. Can you get me inside?”

Pete stared at Mac, wondering at the man’s nonchalance. “You know, you’re not gonna be able to see that laser!”

“Can you?” Mac repeated, a hint of a challenge in his voice.

Pete began to nod. This was MacGyver he was talking to ... he should have known he would not be easily dissuaded. “Yeah, I can get you in. You know, it’s gonna take a lot more than you can carry in that knapsack to get you through all this” Pete indicated the plans spread before them with a wave, cigarette smoking in his fingers.

“Well, the bag’s not for what I take, Colsen –” Mac responded confidently, “ – it’s for what I find along the way.” Mac took one last look at the plans and permitted himself another grin.

Pete’s Voice-over:
I can’t imagine what he thinks he’s got to smile about.

I thought I was going to have a heart-attack when I saw him, rolls of paper tucked under one arm, a knapsack strung over his shoulder like he was a Boy Scout going for a hike … sometimes I think that MacGyver has more than a few screws loose.

I mean – just look around! This building is in ruins, half of the systems don’t work, the power is running on habit – and he’s standing here, grinning like fool as I’m telling him that there is no possible way in … which to any normal person should suggest that there is also no possible way out.

But I’ve always known that MacGyver wasn’t normal.

And I’m standing here watching him, pretending not to know him… pretending not to be preparing to send my good friend down to his likely death. The odds are against those people down there, against MacGyver, against time. It is an impossible task. It is a hopeless task.

And I know that it is equally impossible and hopeless to try to talk him out of trying.

I guess the best I can do is help him get through, and trust Mac to keep himself alive.

I’ll tell you frankly, though … if I wasn’t already bald, MacGyver would make me go gray!

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

Mac let out a whistle and winced. “You boys take your elevator shafts pretty seriously.” He paused, his eyes caught by something in Pete’s shirt pocket. “Spare a cigarette?”

“Oh, sure.” Pete took the pack out of his pocket and tapped them loose to offer one to MacGyver. A last cigarette for a condemned man, he thought morosely.

Mac closed his hand around the pack and took it from Pete’s hand, slipping them inside his bag. “Thank you.”

Pete regarded him with annoyance. “Take the pack, why don’t you? Want my lighter, too?”

I knew it! (think I'll pull out my Mac DVDs and watch and episode or two)

[Lothithil]

The Rainmakers, ch 12
Down the Rabbit Hole

Gantner had a solemn look on his face as he handed MacGyver a two-way radio and watched as the man clipped it to his belt. “It’s not too late,” he insisted, braving a withering glare from Burke to add, “you don’t have to go down there. We’d all understand if you changed your mind—”

MacGyver clapped him on the shoulder, and then applied gentle pressure to encourage Gantner forward so that they could follow their guides. “I’ve come all this way, Gant… the least I can do is take a closer look at things before I consider backing out.”

“You don’t fool me, Mac,” Gantner said dryly. “You have taken a closer look… and you have no intention of backing out.”

MacGyver chuckled. “I've got no intention of dying down there, either.” Mac hoped that his voice carried well, and that his friend Pete could hear him clearly. “I’ve been in tighter spots, and we can’t give up on those people down there. Not without digging a little deeper.”

Gantner permitted MacGyver to steer him, wanting to accompany MacGyver for as long— and for as far— as he could. “Someone should go with you. I could …”

MacGyver made a curt gesture that cut him off. “No way, Gant. I need you up here. Besides, you know I do my best work alone.”

“What can I do up here… besides worry and pace?” the little man grumbled.

“You can stay on that radio,” Mac pointed to the spare unit in Gantner’s hand. “I need someone up here to make sure nobody forgets that I’m down there!” Mac added in a confidential tone, “We’ve got a private scientific facility and a government concern working here… you’ve got to make sure nobody red-tapes me to death!”

“Of course, Mac… of course… but are you sure…”

“Absolutely.” MacGyver’s tone was confident and final.

“Here it is.” Pete had stopped. He pressed a panel on the wall and a concealed door popped open nearby to reveal a small digital keypad and a release handle. MacGyver and Gantner watched as he punched in a code. “This is the access to the wiring duct. There’s only one passage and it leads to the grate in the elevator shaft.” Pete turned to regard MacGyver. “I don’t need to remind you that if you should gain access to the shaft, you’ll still have to deal with the car. It is stuck somewhere around the Second level, but if someone somehow manages to get inside it and get it going… “

“Don’t worry, Colsen,” MacGyver said wryly, shrugging out of his jacket. “This isn’t my first barbecue.”

“Right.” Pete sighed. He thrust out a hand towards MacGyver. “I still think you’re crazy, mister… but I wish you luck. We’ll all be up here looking after you—”

Mac took his hand. Words were unnecessary. They had both been in situations like this before, and both knew by heart the words that could not now be spoken.

MacGyver handed over his jacket. “Hang this up in your office for me, will ya, Colsen? It’s my favorite jacket. Don’t want to get it scuffed up down there.”

“Try not to get yourself scuffed up, either,” Pete said tartly, screening the worry from his voice. Then he nodded to the engineer who had accompanied them; he grasped the release handle and gave it a hard turn. Gantner jumped back as a section of flooring he was standing near began to open upward like a metal lotus in bloom.

Inside there was a dogged hatch, such as one might see on a submarine. The engineer knelt and spun the wheel to unlock the hatch. He lifted the heavy thing easily, revealing a short drop to the top of a metal stair.

With a wink at his friends MacGyver hopped down through the hole, landing nimbly on the top of the ladder. Pete and Gantner both leaned out over the opening.

“MacGyver.” Mac was already climbing down, but he paused and looked up as Pete spoke. “That mike is voice-activated. All you gotta do is talk. We’ll be listening.”

“Okey-doke.” Mac shifted the microphone closer to his face. He glanced upward once more and saw the faces of two friends framed by the open hatch. They both wore expressions of concern, but Pete had a twinkle in his eyes that conveyed to MacGyver that he also had confidence in him.

The sight of them made MacGyver grin again. To worried Gantner he called up in a jaunty voice. “Ed… relax! Big date on Sunday! You’re playing ball with my little brother!”

Mac’s Voice-over:
And I was off and running! Well…crawling anyway. This tunnel reminded me of the movie I caught on ‘The Late, Late Show’ last night. ‘The Great Escape’ is one of the best movies ever made, in my humble opinion. Hopefully, I'm going to find a way to make my own 'great escape' from this place. And I pray it isn't going to be necessary for me to dig my way out.

No matter what Burke said, I still wasn’t convinced that this explosion was an accident. I suppose Pete’s presence kind of confirmed that feeling. I didn’t have any evidence to indicate who might have been responsible… and if Pete knew, he probably would have found a way to let me know, too.

I would have given a lot for five minutes' private talk with him, but I knew that was impossible. If the person who orchestrated this disaster got wind of who Andy Colsen really was, it would likely cost us both our lives… and Steubens and Marlow and the other people trapped down here would die for sure.

The tunnel wasn’t very long, and it appeared undamaged. A running dialogue was SOP in a situation like this. For the benefit of my guardian angels listening on the two-way radio, I whistled a tune so they’d know I was alive and kicking.

In the computer control room, three men stood in the midst of the organized chaos, listening intently to MacGyver’s progress. When the sound of whistling came out over the loudspeaker, one of them closed his eyes as if in regret or pain.

Gantner noticed the expression on Andy Colsen’s face, but he assumed that it was because the Director of Operations did not believe that MacGyver could succeed in this dangerous undertaking. He glanced away, working hard to conceal his own despair.

Burke covered the microphone in his headset and asked, “What is that? Are we getting some kind of interference?”

Gantner shook his head. “It’s called ‘Cowboy’s Lament’. It’s from an old western movie that Mac made me watch once.”

Pete had seen that movie, too— ‘Streets of Laredo’. MacGyver was a nut for old black and white shoot-‘em-ups, and he often invited Pete over to his apartment to watch them.

MacGyver stopped whistling; he’d reached the grate. Pete shoved his fears into the back of his mind and focused on the job—people were counting on him.

MacGyver’s voice came through the speakers clearly. “Well, I’ve reached the grate. Can’t see any damage so far.” The men listened closely to the sounds of his movements, then suddenly Burke and Gantner recoiled at the noise that suddenly assaulted their ears; a rending and crash of metal followed by a series of sharp crackling explosions.

“What was that?” Pete asked. His steady voice calmed his nervous companions.

“Yeah. Well, there’s nothin’ wrong with your lasers,” MacGyver announced.

Andy Colsen would be condescending, Pete thought. I can do that. “I told you, you couldn’t get through.”

MacGyver was not discouraged. “We-ell—then maybe it’s time for a smoke.” There came a rustle of paper and foil, and then they heard MacGyver mutter, “C’mon, pal. How ‘bout a light.” MacGyver coughed and made a spitting sound.

“Is he really taking the time for a smoke?”

Burke covered his mike again, and said, “For Pete’s sake, Andy… give the man a break.”

⌂

Barbara felt like she could use a break. The ceiling had stopped collapsing, which was good… but the bio lab had suffered a lot of damage. All the exits were blocked by rubble. The air, pungent with smoke and the acrid odors of spilled chemicals, sweat, and fear, was growing stuffy. No fresh air was coming from the vents, and the intercoms were dead and irreparable. There was nothing anyone could do but get comfortable and wait.

Waiting was not one of the things that Barbara Spencer was good at. After taking a few moments to catch her breath and get hold of herself, she turned her attention to the other people in the room. Many were injured, though none worse than her friend Dobbson. The cut on his head was still bleeding. She found another, cleaner cloth in a cabinet and folded it into a bandage, wondering if the man was a hemophiliac.

A couple of the women in the room began to cry. One of the men moved toward them and tried to comfort them, but one woman became angry. “Don’t lie to us,” she snarled at him. “We’re all gonna die! We’re gonna suffocate! If we don’t get crushed to death when the lab collapses!”

“There’s no use in talk like that,” Barbara said. “We should all try to stay calm until they come to rescue us.”

“What do you know?” the woman demanded. Her tears leaked through her mascara and dripped from her jaw in blackish streaks. “What if they don’t come? What if we’re the last ones alive and nobody is coming? We should be doing something!”

“What is your name, my dear?” Dobbson asked suddenly.

“Charlotte.”

“I have a suggestion, Charlotte,” Dobbson said. “Shut up.” The woman gaped at him in shock. “You’re doing nothing but wasting what air we have, and I for one am confident that we shall be rescued.” He smiled up at Barbara. “I was convinced I was going to die down on the third level… but an angel swept me up. And I haven’t come this far to give up now.”

Barbara smiled back at him. She was glad that Dobbson had been unable to see her own tears when she had broken down, and she was determined not to make such a display again. She found the women’s panic distasteful.

“We’ll all get out of this,” she murmured to him, patting his shoulder gently. Somehow.

“We need a way to communicate with the surface,” the man who had been pacing muttered aloud. He was trying to repair the intercom, but it was hopeless. He carefully approached the clogged hallway. A massive girder had come down with the ceiling and about a ton of dirt and debris. He picked up a rock and banged on the metal. It made a dull sound. He tossed the rock aside and picked up a metal pipe.

The pipe rang off of the surface of the girder with a clear PING! He struck the metal again, listening for an echo.

“That is very annoying,” Charlotte said pointedly.

“It is also very smart,” said Barbara. “Do it again. Keep doing it. Someone could hear it.”

“I say,” Dobbson added, “were you ever in the Scouts? Tap in groups of three… that is a distress signal.”

“Great,” muttered Charlotte cynically. “If there are any passing troops of Boy Scouts… I’m sure we’ll be rescued in no time!”

Everyone ignored her. They all took a bit of solace in the tapping sound, willing it with all their intent to carry upward to the surface and let someone know that there was life in the ruins… desperate life in need of help.

~~~tbc

[Ladyhawk Baggins]

“I have a suggestion, Charlotte,” Dobbson said. “Shut up.”

[Lothithil]

The Rainmakers, ch 13
Shafted

Mac’s Voice-over:
I know I already mentioned this, but it bears repeating—I don’t like heights.

Something you learn after climbing down your first handful of elevator shafts— most folks don’t waste money on lighting inside the shaft. They’re always, always, always as dark as an ink well.

Which is why I’m a lucky man. Can’t see the bottom… don’t know how far there is to fall!

Still, I found myself hesitating on the edge of the drop. The smell of the fried lasers filled the air—made me cough a bit—but didn’t quite get the taste of Pete’s cigarettes out of my mouth. I don’t know why anyone would want to inhale those awful things deliberately… I’d have given a lot for a breath of sweet air right then.

But the memory of it was the best I was going to get.

The radio crackled, reminding me that I wasn’t entirely alone in the dark.

Burk’s voice echoed around the enclosed space where MacGyver was crouching. “Franklin, get some rope and a high-powered lantern from Supply and take it down to MacGyver…”

“No time, Charlie,” MacGyver said, scooting around so that his legs dangled into the abyss. “I’ll be gone by the time he gets here… time’s a’wastin’.” MacGyver twisted and lowered himself until he felt a groove in the wall with the toes of his shoes. He dug in and reached to his left, where he knew he’d find a long pipe leading wires vertically through the shaft. “Colsen, on the schematics that I left with you, the cables for the main power source are routed through this shaft, right? I’m going to follow them down as far as they can take me.”

“Watch out for breakages,” Pete’s voice cautioned.

Mac let out a slight chuckle. “Are the lights still on up there?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, then… it’s not likely that they’re broke, then! But I’ll be careful anyway…”

“Wise-guy.” Mac heard Pete mutter softly. It made him grin, but he saved his breath for climbing.

MacGyver felt his way down, making good progress. There were grooves circling the shaft every ten feet or so, and the piping was thick and strong. Mac lowered himself smoothly until he scuffed the surface of the elevator car on his last step down.

There was a thick layer of loose soil on the top of the car. MacGyver knelt and ran his fingers through the dirt until he found the service door. He dug out the handhold but it took a little effort to lift it open. A shaft of light leaped up through the small opening, swirling with dust. Mac dropped his game bag through the opening before lowering himself through. He’d reached Level Two.

⌂

Sidney Marlow saw no use in clawing at the wreckage that blocked the doorway. He could see that there was no way he could hope to shift the debris single-handedly. The air was full of smoke and heavy with dust. Acrid odors from the smashed containers and crumpled shelves of the lab mingled with the atmosphere to make it almost intolerable to breathe. The irritation caused his eyes to water.

There was a unit on the wall that should regulate the control of air in the room. Marlow pressed the button repeatedly, but like so many other things it was unresponsive. He blinked and wiped the tears away as he went once again to check on his friend.

Karl Steubens was still unconscious. Marlow had tried to move his friend into a comfortable position, keeping his head a bit elevated. He had an ugly wound on his scalp, which was bleeding again. Marlow cast around for something to use as a bandage, but seeing nothing to hand, he tore off one of the sleeves of his shirt and folded it with clumsy fingers. He pressed it against Steuben’s head, trying to be gentle and firm at the same time.

Nervous, frightened, and undoubtedly still in shock, Marlow found marginal comfort in the sound of his own voice. He spoke to his friend out loud.

“Shame to t-tear it up, old boy… you know, my wife gave me this suit! But the j-jacket’s ruined anyway. That looks like it might hurt… s-sorry but I must press hard if the bleeding is going to s-stop… I do wish they’d c-come soon.”

Marlow paused, hoping that Steubens would open his eyes and answer him, or even tell him to shut up his chattering. But there was no response; Karl lay as if dead, though his breathing continued and his heartbeat was strong when Marlow sought it at his wrist with trembling fingers.

“They will come, d-don’t you think?” Marlow said, settling down next to where his friend lay. He had propped the unconscious man up on a short stair frame to keep him above the noxious vapors coagulating on the floor. He took one of the man’s hands into his own, chafing it gently. “It’s just a matter of t-time. Those men on the speaker… th-th-they said that th-they were trying to g-g-get down h-here...”

Marlow paused and took a few breaths. He always stuttered when he was anxious, even when he was talking to himself. It was a nervous habit that he’d never managed to break. Steubens was the only one he could ever talk to without stammering. The tall, lanky scientist always had a way of making Marlow relax and feel confident. It was one of the reasons that their friendship had endured though the years since they’d been in school together in Edinburgh. That… and the game.

Chess. Marlow looked down at the floor, which was still swimming with fumes and foul smoke. A number of objects lay half-drowned in the unnatural fog. Marlow bent down and picked up a small piece of the debris. It was a small lump of white marble, intricately carved in the shape of a noble horse’s head; one of Steuben’s knights. The base of the piece was broken and a chip had been taken out of the proud profile.

Marlow fingered the piece, swallowing back his despair. “You sh-should never have moved that rook in like that, Karl… you really couldn’t afford to lose your knight. And you virtually s-sacrificed the s-second one… for a mere few p-pawns! It’s like you were… I don’t know… trying to d-draw out the game.” He sighed, letting the ruined piece fall from his fingers.

“We c-could use a white knight ourselves, right about now, eh Karl?”

⌂

MacGyver’s feet touched the floor, and he was glad to be leaving the utter darkness in the shaft for the semi-darkness of the elevator car. The doors of the car were open and showed marks of having been pried open. “I think I’m in,” he announced for the benefit of his listeners.

Pete nodded as he heard MacGyver’s words. Burke and Gantner stood nearby, both tuned in on their own radios. “What’s it look like down there?” Pete asked.

“Twilight Zone.” Mac answered briefly, not relishing the taste of the air. It was thick with the acrid odor of burned wiring and ocher dust. He slung his bag over his shoulder so that his hands were free and walked out into the corridor. “Elevator’s jammed in the shaft, so I’m going to have to find another way to the lower level. Heading for the Bio Lab.”

MacGyver’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, and as he walked he looked around at the damage for more signs of survivors. The damage was much more apparent on this level; the floor was strewn with dirt and drifted in places with debris from fallen ceiling tiles and crumpled pipes. Overhead, dangling wires crackled, showering the corridor with sparks. He ducked as he walked through and entered another corridor, hurrying to pass more spitting wires. He silently hoped that none of the vapors cloying in the air were flammable.

Then he spotted it; scuffed footprints in the dust. It was impossible to decipher the number of people who had made them or which direction they had been moving; too much fresh dirt had fallen and covered the marks.

Something creaked in the walls around him. MacGyver rose and continued forward as swiftly as caution permitted. On his left he noticed a fire hose and extinguisher. The glass in the case was standing open and the fire ax was missing.

He saw where the corridor branched out to either side, and from his mental map knew in which direction the Bio Lab lay, but as he rounded the corner, he was forced to stop. Where the entrance of the lab should have been a great pile of debris completely filled the corridor, from wall to sagging wall.

“We got a problem, boys.”

~~~tbc