Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by ergomac23 »

good thought I didn't think of that :)
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by bluegirl »

Hello everyone!

What did I say last week about raising the tension and the stakes? Well... let´s raise them a little more... :o :roll:

Everybody, be warned of a little cliffhanger at the end of this chapter! ;) 8-)

Part 9

MacGyver hurried sideways along the slope with the help of his crutch, trying his best to remain hidden by the undergrowth and not to cause any rustling in the bushes. He had to get those two goons away from Pete´s route – meaning he had to get their attention – without drawing their attention directly at himself.

After a few minutes, he was satisfied with the distance he´d put between Pete and himself and stopped. MacGyver´s mind had gone into overdrive only seconds after he´d first spotted Moreno´s men and by now, some ideas had formed in his head. He´d gotten a little ahead of them since he´d moved in the same direction as they had, and now he needed them to speed up so Pete could leave safely.

He bent down and, with a few quick moves, ripped off a piece of fabric from his already torn pants´ leg. He trimmed it to fit with the help of Pete´s knife, then retrieved the fishing pole from his pocket and extended it. He tied the fabric to its top end, forming a little pouch out of it. Mac weighed it in his hands for a moment, then picked up some gravel from the ground and filled the pouch with it. He shot the bad guys a probing glance and then picked his aim well ahead of them.

Using the fishing rod like a slingshot, Mac used all his strength to throw the small stones way up and sideways along the slope. He ducked behind a tree and watched the stones flying high through the air for a few seconds before they hit undergrowth and rocky ground. The impact caused clearly audible clattering and rustling sounds. MacGyver quickly switched his focus to Moreno´s men, only to see them stop briefly and then hurry off to where they´d heard the noise come from.

MacGyver kept his back pressed against the tree until they had rushed past him without even looking in his direction, pushed the fishing pole together to its small size, and let out a sigh.

Now Pete can leave. Now he and the intel will be safe. Now I just gotta keep them busy.


Pete Thornton had stepped up to the tree MacGyver had hidden behind after the young man had left. He´d kept Moreno´s patrol under close observation during the following minutes. Because he´d focused so intensely, surrounded only by the silence of the forest, the distant, but sudden loud clattering of stones on the rocky ground startled the senior agent. He flinched at the unexpected noise, and his head snapped around toward it.

This has to be MacGyver´s doing, he realized as quickly.

Only seconds later, he heard a muffled shout from one of Moreno´s men and hurried to concentrate back on them. Frozen behind the trunk, Pete watched as they went still for a moment, listening intently, before they ran off toward where they had heard the noise from. Toward where MacGyver presumably was.

Pete drew in a sharp breath while he watched them disappear from his sight. As soon as he couldn´t see them anymore, he pushed himself off the tree with a deep sigh, turned around, and hurried off downward. He picked a fairly straight trail toward the valley´s floor, avoiding all too open terrain wherever he could.

All the time he strove to focus solely on his task of keeping the intel he carried safe, but failed. His thoughts returned to the young man he´d gotten to know a lot better since yesterday morning. The young man, who´d decided to head off on his own. The young man who´d chosen to face those thugs alone, despite his weakened condition. All because he put completing their mission first and foremost. While he descended, Pete deeply hoped, MacGyver would be there… in time… to meet the helicopter.


MacGyver had waited for Moreno´s men to almost reach the spot where the gravel had hit the ground before he hurried off again. He moved sideways along the slope once more, but this time also a little downward. He´d remembered a rock face close to the valley floor that was quite high and therefore suited really well for the last leg of his plan. He gave the goons a few minutes to examine the area he´d drawn them to before Mac stopped and used his makeshift slingshot again. He threw a little less gravel this time, making less noise, but enough to keep the men on his tail. He more heard than saw the thugs following his lead since dense undergrowth blocked his sight on this part of the slope. Once more, he waited for them to reach the location he´d lured them to before he continued his way to the rock face.


MacGyver was panting heavily when he stopped close to the edge of the cliff. He took a few moments to calm his breath while he assessed the scenery in front of him. Barely a minute later, a detailed plan had formed in his head. He leaned his crutch against a tree close by and shrugged out of Pete´s padded coat. He shivered involuntarily as the cool mountain air hit his feverish skin which was now only protected by his t-shirt and shirt. Mac froze for a moment, forced to acknowledge his still weakening condition, but then hurried to crouch down.

He laid out the jacket on the ground in front of him, grabbed fallen branches from around himself, and gathered them inside the coat, its sleeves, and its hood. Once he was satisfied with the amount of stuffing material, MacGyver closed the front zipper and eyed his makeshift dummy for a moment. From a little distance… and once it´s moving… it should look like the upper body of someone who´s fleeing, he thought. Then he retrieved the wire from his pocket and quickly wrapped it a few times around the ‘neck’ of his dummy. He continued by forming a loop at the back of the stuffed hood out of the remaining wire, making the loop a little bigger than the coat´s hood.

MacGyver left the dummy lying on the ground as he gingerly got to his feet and dug the string out of his pocket. He eyed the edge of the rock face, couldn´t avoid noticing how far down below the solid ground was, and instantly felt his fear of heights kick in. Mac drew in a deep, steadying breath and puffed it out a moment later. He pushed the sudden terror to the back of his mind and focused ahead. Alright, now for the tricky part of my preparations, he thought.

After glancing upward along the slope, to make sure Moreno´s goons were still busy at the last site, MacGyver warily limped along the edge, almost across the full distance to the other end of the cliff. A crooked tree grew there, close to the edge, with a couple of low branches reaching out over said edge. Mac quickly tied one end of the string to one of those branches, a bit above waist height, and then hurried to retreat toward where he´d left the stuffed coat while he carefully rolled out the string.

He threaded the string through his dummy´s wiry loop and then scanned the tree he´d leaned his crutch against. After a brief consideration, he chose a branch just above his head and handed the string over it. MacGyver picked up the dummy, leaned it upright against the trunk of the tree, and then cautiously gathered up any remaining slack in the string. He let the string hang next to his crutch and shot his contraption a final probing glance before he reached for his fishing pole.

All set. Time to call the guests of honor, he mused with a glance at his watch. Just a little more than half an hour since I left Pete. He should be at a safe distance by now. If I´ll manage to take a fairly straight route to the clearing after my final distraction, I should be able to make it to the clearing in time as well…

He extended the pole and dropped some stones from the ground into the fabric pouch at the end of it. Mac licked his lips, picked his aim, and threw for a third time with all his strength. But this time, he froze at the end of the swing of his slingshot. He watched the pouch made out of the fabric of his pants being torn off the fishing pole by the weight of the stones and sailing high up in the air together with the gravel.

“Aww, man…” Mac sighed as he observed, but his paralysis loosened at the moment the stones hit the ground, clattering loudly.

MacGyver quickly drew back behind the undergrowth, pushed the rod together, and stuffed it into his pocket. Then he reached for the string, hurried to unravel its remaining length, and assessed how much distance he might be able to put between himself and his diversion. He got a safe hold on its end, grabbed his crutch with his free hand, and cautiously retreated deeper into the thicket. Slowly, he pulled the string tight on his way back and stopped just before it would have lifted the stuffed jacket off the ground.

Leaning on his crutch, Mac wrapped the string around his fingers once and drew in a deep breath. He had to give it a quick and sharp pull for his contraption to work. All his senses went into high gear while he waited for Moreno´s men to turn up. His eyes scanned his surroundings, mentally mapping out his getaway route down the steep slope close to the rock face. Once he´d triggered his final distraction, he would have to leave. Fast. Or they would notice him. And probably shoot him on the spot.


It took only a few minutes until MacGyver heard the goons coming closer. They dashed through the forest hurriedly at first, not caring about the noises they caused, but slowed down once they neared the spot where the rocks had hit the ground. Mac heard them talking to each other while they approached, but their voices were too quiet. He couldn´t understand a word. Their caution drew Mac`s inner tension to another level. He held his breath as a feverish wave of shivers shook his body unexpectedly.

“Not now!” he growled low to himself and tried his best to mentally push against the still lingering headache, the lightheadedness, and the throbbing in his leg, and instead strove to focus on his task.

Moreno´s men had just reached the spot and started examining the ground when Mac glanced upward at them through the thicket he was hiding behind. He knew he had to be patient and had to give them some time… but at the same time, he knew, the longer he waited, the less time he would have to reach the clearing. He would have to hurry anyway… and he hoped that his body wouldn´t fail him, that he was still physically up to it. Leaning on his crutch, MacGyver let his gaze drop to the ground, while his ears stayed alert, and he took deep steadying breaths. He strove to concentrate, to gather some strength, and to control his physical discomfort.

Only a minute or two later, a low crackling sound startled him. MacGyver´s eyes snapped up to Moreno´s goons. With alarm, he noticed that one of the men held the bloodied fabric of his pants, which had flown off together with the stones, in his hand. But what really worried Mac was the portable radio set – kind of like a high-end walkie-talkie – the second man was talking into. Oh no, he sighed inwardly. Now they don´t suspect anymore but know that I´ve survived. And he´s probably calling in reinforcements at the moment… to help search for me. Now making them believe I´m fleeing in a different direction isn´t gonna be enough to keep Pete and the intel safe. Now I gotta allow them to kill me… convincingly.

MacGyver´s breath sped up subconsciously. He narrowed his focus on the men but couldn´t hear whom to or what about they were talking on the radio. A couple of moments later, the man lowered the walkie-talkie and hooked it to his belt. Mac ducked his head a little, checked his secure hold on the string, and quietly puffed out a breath as he returned to observing Moreno´s men. They examined the area next to themselves even closer before they raised their gaze to the thickets surrounding them.

MacGyver´s grip on his crutch and the string tightened. He needed to surprise those thugs. To be able to do that, they needed to turn away from him and the rock face, at least briefly.

Time seemed to stretch almost unbearably until, just for a few seconds, both men were facing upward, to the top of the mountain. Mac subconsciously held his breath for a beat and then gave the string a sharp tug to pull it tight.

The coat dummy was jerked up into the air abruptly once the string straightened, toward the branch the string stretched over. It dangled close to that branch and the trunk for a moment, suspended by string and wiry loop, and then steadied itself. Mac´s breath caught in his throat as the sudden concern, his contraption wouldn´t work as planned, rushed through him. But then his dummy started moving.

Hanging from the loop, it slid down the inclined string, first slow, but getting faster real quick, toward the crooked tree, Mac had tied the string to. It had caused some rustling noise while getting pulled up through the thicket close to the tree trunk and now caused even more as it brushed along the undergrowth near the edge of the rock face.

First the sounds, then the movement caught the attention of Moreno´s goons. Within seconds, MacGyver heard agitated shouts from above.


“There he is!”

“Shoot him!”

MacGyver flinched involuntarily when the first shots rang out. The initial bullets missed their target as the dummy was still moving fast, and MacGyver concentrated on keeping the string bow taut, knowing he had to get the timing right. A few moments later, the jacket reached the crooked tree and stopped. A burst of rounds out of a machine gun hit the stuffed dummy only the blink of an eye after that, tearing and ripping through it, sending parts of fabric and the insulating down feathers flying through the air.

MacGyver waited until the gunfire had died and quickly let go of the string afterward. With the tension gone, the dummy tilted away from the tree and then, since it had been hanging just a bit beyond the edge of the cliff, gravity´s pull sent it falling. MacGyver froze in his hide-out while the forest was silent for a beat or two.

“Got him!”


Mac heard the triumphant shouts of the men.

“Gotta tell el jefe!”

A few seconds later, MacGyver noticed the tell-tale crackling of the walkie-talkie in the distance. Time to leave, he thought. I gotta be gone before their reinforcements arrive. If I´m lucky, they will believe I´m dead. If not… examining all this will keep them occupied for a while. Time, I gotta use to get some distance between me … and them. MacGyver tightened his grip on the crutch and then hurried downward, as silently as he could along the route he´d mentally mapped out earlier.


A little less than one hour had passed when Pete Thornton stopped for a brief pause. He had made good progress and had chosen a slightly different trail than he would have, had MacGyver still been with him. He had moved through more difficult terrain because it had provided better cover, had been extremely cautious, and had watched out for more of Moreno´s patrols. But he hadn´t seen anybody since MacGyver had lured the two men away from him.

The senior agent took a moment to slow his breath before he set down both backpacks and pulled his compass and the maps out of the top pocket of his pack. He confirmed his position with the help of the pictures and planned his route to the clearing where he would meet the helicopter… and hopefully also MacGyver. He was close to the bottom of the mountain´s slope already and would have to cross the valley floor soon – which increased his chances of being spotted. Unless he only walked through densely forested areas.

Pete sighed deeply. He couldn´t take a straight trail to their meeting point if he set his priority on protecting the intel he carried – which he´d promised to do to MacGyver. He shot the maps a final glance and then stuffed them back into his pack. A glimpse at his watch confirmed that, according to his plan, he was still on schedule.

The senior agent took a few sips out of his water bottle, then shouldered his backpack and picked up MacGyver´s. With a deep breath, he stood up and continued his way downward, now more focused on his way again than on how his rookie was faring. At least, he believed he´d finally managed to push the thoughts about the young man to the back of his mind.

A couple of minutes later though, while he was just easing himself down over a rocky step in the terrain, Pete heard distant gunfire. At first, Thornton froze momentarily at the sound, but then his head snapped around to where the sound had come from.

A few single shots… followed by a burst of machine gun fire after a few seconds.

Pete flinched as the crackles registered in his mind and the image of bullets tearing through MacGyver´s body appeared before his mental eye faster than he could prevent it. Like in slow motion, the senior agent let his feet find solid ground while his thoughts ran wild. Adrenaline rushing through him made him feel the abrupt urge to run over to where he´d heard the noise from, but he quickly stopped himself from doing so. The shots had been way too far in the distance – he wouldn´t be able to be there fast enough to help the young man anyway.

Pete subconsciously held his breath as he strove to quench the sudden wave of emotions welling up within. Once again these days, he had to deal with the possibility that MacGyver had been killed. But he had to keep acting professionally. He could hike over there, of course… but realistically, he didn´t have enough time to spare for a detour this long… if he wanted to meet the helicopter… if he wanted to keep his promise to the kid… and make sure the information he carried reached its destination.

Thornton slowly let out the breath he´d been holding and straightened himself as the realization dawned on him that he had to stick to the plan he´d formed only minutes ago. That currently, he couldn´t do anything to help the kid. That he just had to believe in MacGyver and his abilities. Pete reminded himself that he´d chosen and encouraged the young man to become one of their operatives for a reason… no, several reasons. Pete had to trust him that he´d come through… that he´d be there… at the clearing… in time.

Pete Thornton drew in a deep breath, tightened his hold on MacGyver´s backpack, and then resumed his way.


Moreno´s two henchmen had hurried to radio the news to their boss. They´d quickly related the situation and Javier Moreno had ordered them to hold their position until he would arrive together with the men he´d been scouring the mountain with. He´d received the message about MacGyver´s death with satisfaction.

Yesterday, after the man had blown up their workshop, their plane, and a good part of their goods, he had – on first impulse – been convinced MacGyver had been killed by the explosion, or the drop, or had been drowned in the rapids of the river. But during the afternoon, doubts had started nagging in Moreno´s mind and he´d sent out a few patrols to check along the ravine and to search for MacGyver´s body along the course of the river. Those doubts had mounted when his men had returned late in the evening and had told him, they hadn´t found any trace of MacGyver.

Today, since they hadn´t had any means to ship out their remaining weapons anymore, he´d sent out two teams to search the area – and had accompanied one of those teams himself. He still had no idea how the man had gotten rid of his binds and made it out of the shed they´d locked him in yesterday but it didn´t matter anymore. It seemed, that nuisance of a man was finally dead. Moreno had pushed the two men, he was with, to hurry but it had taken them some time to reach the location where the other team was waiting for them.

“What exactly happened?” Moreno demanded without preamble once they´d met the men.

“We followed a clattering noise at first.” The man with the machine gun told his boss. “Like somebody slipping or stumbling on rocky ground and therefore dropping stones… and found this only a few steps from here.”

He held out the bloodied fabric MacGyver had torn from his pants. Moreno took it and examined it for a couple of seconds.

“So he has been wounded yesterday,” he stated with delight in his voice.

“Must have.” The second man nodded his agreement. “Moments later we heard something rustling down there…” He pointed down the slope. “… and saw him trying to flee along the top of the rock face. We shot at him at once and got him when he had to stop because of that crooked tree. He fell down the cliff after we´d hit him.”

Moreno watched his men silently for a beat. They seemed convinced they´d killed the man. He wouldn´t be until he´d laid eyes on MacGyver´s corpse.

“I want to see him,” he declared. “Where is he?”

“He´s got to be at the bottom of the rock face.” The first man said. “If the bullets haven´t killed him, the fall must have. That rock face is way too high to survive the drop.”

Moreno pinned his man with a hard stare.

“That´s what we assumed yesterday as well,” he growled. “He´s proven us wrong… Now, where is he?”

The two men who´d shot Mac swallowed dryly at the menacing tone of their boss and hurried to lead the way toward the upper edge of the cliff. It took them a couple of minutes to get there, and all five men grew cautious about where to set their feet as they neared the rock face. Moreno took point once he stepped beyond the last row of bushes and got a first good look at the scenery. He stopped and eyed the crooked tree growing right at the edge. He didn´t know what to make of it at first, but his doubts started mounting again. Something about all this felt wrong.

Quietly he took a few steps forward, right to the edge, and looked down. Moreno´s eyes scanned the foot of the rock face, but couldn´t find a body. He let his gaze wander also across the rocky wall and soon spotted something that had caught in some thicket growing in a crack about halfway down the cliff.

The remains of a torn, stuffed coat. With branches reaching out of it. But no indication of a human body.

Moreno drew in a deep breath as a sudden wave of anger surged through him.

“You fools!” he shouted. “He deceived you! … Both!” All his men shrunk back as Moreno whirled around and glared at them. “He used his jacket! … And you fell for it!”

The two men who´d been convinced they´d shot MacGyver were brave enough to step to the edge and look down themselves but retreated quickly once they´d seen the torn jacket hanging in the bush.

“But… it really looked as if…” one of them tried to explain, to apologize but was cut off sharply by Javier Moreno.

“Quiet!” he growled.

Moreno´s hand automatically flinched to the gun he kept at his belt. Normally, he´d punish his men for a failure like this… but right now, he couldn´t afford to. He needed all of them to search for the man who´d made fools out of them … once again.

“Where did the jacket first come from?” he ground out through clenched teeth.

All his thugs tensed up as they sensed how furious their boss was. They all knew that mistakes that serious were usually punished… with death.

“From back there.” The same man who´d tried to apologize hurried to say with a gesture along the edge of the rock face. “Out of that thicket.”

“Well, then go!” Moreno snapped at him. “He must have been close by! He must have left some traces! Find them! … Then I might reconsider throwing you down that cliff!”

His men instantly turned and headed toward and behind the indicated undergrowth and bushes. Moreno followed them closely. After only a couple of moments of searching, one of the goons spotted boot marks on the soft, still wet soil covering the rocky ground.

“There!” he exclaimed. “Footprints… and some kind of round imprint next to them.”

Moreno was at his side only a second later, with his eyes glued to the ground. His left hand clenched around the bloodied piece of fabric it still held.

“If he got injured that badly…” Moreno stated slowly as he understood the implication of the round imprint. “… that he has to rely on some stick or branch for support, he won´t have gotten all too far in the meantime.”

All his men raised their eyes to him, awaiting and expectant. After a moment, Moreno also raised his head and glared at them.

“What are you waiting for?” he growled. “Follow his tracks! Spread out! Find him! Now!”

At once, all his henchmen spurred into action, orienting themselves down the slope and looking out for further tracks MacGyver had left behind, but Moreno´s voice made them stop again, albeit only briefly.

“And if you see him…” their boss added low and warningly. “Don´t you shoot him… He´s mine to kill.”


MacGyver concentrated hard on the terrain he had to cross. Since he was well aware that Moreno and his men would do their best to tail him as soon as they had discovered his little distraction, his focus was also set on leaving as few tracks as he possibly could for them to follow. He´d chosen rocky ground wherever he´d been able to, hoping they might lose his trail or at least wouldn´t catch up with him all too soon. At the same time, he knew he had to hurry.

His crutch allowed him to keep up a steady pace and to relieve his injured leg of a lot of the strain, even on the still moist and – at places – slippery ground. But his physical condition set some limits to him. His concentration on the ground before his feet wavered as a sudden wave of vertigo washed over him. MacGyver stopped abruptly, pressed his eyes shut, and drew in deep breaths while he waited for the dizziness to pass.

After a couple of seconds, he raised his head and forced his eyes open again. Relieved that the forest had stopped moving around him, Mac puffed out a breath. Without the warmth and protection of Pete´s jacket, he felt the cool wind brush uncomfortably over his feverish body. In the next moment, a shiver shook him. Once again, his body reminded him that despite his self-treatment, he was still in need of medical treatment.

Which I´ll get, once I´ve made it to the helicopter, he thought.

MacGyver let his gaze wander around his surroundings as he mentally prepared to continue his way. He also glanced upward, to where he´d come from, making sure he couldn´t see Moreno´s men following him before he moved on. Mac was quite sure he´d heard them in the far distance a few times while he´d hiked downward, but right now the woods behind him were quiet.

Several minutes later, the terrain in front of him caused MacGyver to stop once more. Only a few feet away from his shoes, the rocky ground dropped off almost vertically. He drew in a deep breath and held it as he cautiously stepped toward the edge. Again, his fear of heights awoke instantly at the mere sight. The rock face by far wasn´t as high as the one he´d let the jacket drop down, but still way too high for him to free-climb in his current condition.

Inwardly, he scolded himself for not remembering this natural barrier when he´d mentally planned his escape route. Now he had to find a way around it. A way that provided good cover. Quickly. Before his pursuers caught up with him.

Mac hurried to scan the rock face and the terrain to both sides of it with his eyes. The fastest way he spotted would take him partly back to where he´d come from… also toward where Moreno´s henchmen would be coming from… and then downward through narrow and steep terrain between two cliffs. Or he could turn to the opposite direction for a slightly safer way down with more cover next to the far end of the rock face… but he´d have to walk along the bigger part of the edge of it to reach that trail… with almost no cover.

So much for getting caught between a rock and a hard place… literally, he mused sarcastically.

MacGyver sighed deeply and gazed behind himself, upward the slope. After a few moments of noticing nothing in the forest, no sounds, and no movement at all, Mac made his decision. He nervously licked his dried-out lips and limped off toward the far side of the cliff. He had convinced himself that walking along the edge would take no more than two or three minutes… and with no thugs in sight… it shouldn´t be a big deal.


Unfortunately, he didn´t notice the man glancing in his direction out of the undergrowth only a minute later. One of Moreno´s henchmen did a sweep of the area and spotted MacGyver´s movement in the distance after mere seconds.

“Boss!” he hissed instantly. “Down there! Look!”

Javier Moreno was at his side with two quick steps. His eyes followed the gesture of his goon and recognized MacGyver´s lanky build at once. Without taking his eyes off the man that had devastated their base and made fools out of all of them, Moreno held out his hand to his men.

“The rifle. Now,” he stated low.

The man who´d carried the sniper rifle immediately complied and handed it over. With a quick glance, Moreno checked if the rifle was loaded, flipped off the safety, and adjusted his stance. He pointed the rifle downward and aimed at Mac through the scope.

“MacGyver!” he yelled after a moment, as soon as he had a secure and stable aim. “Hold it right there!”

He saw Mac react to his shout only the blink of an eye later and grinned menacingly to himself. Then he pulled the trigger… repeated… and shot once more.


MacGyver froze involuntarily. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end and his blood ran cold in the same split second that he heard the call of his name from behind… and recognized the voice as Javier Moreno´s. It sounded quite distant, and Mac´s head whirled around automatically to determine where exactly the threatening shout had come from, and how imminent the danger was.

Half turning around, MacGyver spotted the arms dealer almost instantly. He was partly hidden by some thicket way above on the slope, and Mac was just about to feel some relief about the amount of lead he still had on his pursuers when he noticed, just the blink of an eye later, that Moreno was holding something.

A rifle. Equipped with a sniper´s scope. Aiming it at me. Oh, no.

His adrenaline level had already gone up once Moreno had called his name but now it flooded his body. And suddenly, all seemed to happen at once.

MacGyver´s survival instinct told him to flee, to duck, to hide, but before he could react, a shot rang out and something hit his crutch. The projectile shattered it just above waist-high, abruptly ripping his support away from under him. To avoid losing his balance, Mac´s wounded leg at once had to take a lot more of his weight, causing a fierce wave of pain to rush through it. MacGyver´s breath caught in his throat as he suppressed a gasp, and he automatically let go of the rest of his crutch as his hands flinched toward his thigh.

But before he´d had the time to regain at least some composure or even form a clear thought, MacGyver heard the familiar crack of another gunshot. Something hit the left side of his chest hard and threw him backward. Mac cried out with the red-hot agony tearing through his upper body. An agony that, since his time in Vietnam, he would recognize anytime and anywhere as getting shot. An agony that momentarily caused his knees to buckle and his legs to lose all their strength and their footing.

Being that close to the edge of the cliff, Mac´s feet slipped over it with the momentum the bullet had given him. On top of the panic about getting shot, MacGyver´s fear of heights caused his body to stiffen. He was unable to grab hold of anything, unable to catch himself. All of it happened way too fast for him to regain any bit of control over the situation. Before he had any chance to act against it, MacGyver sensed himself sliding and falling down the almost vertical rock face. Rendered powerless by pain and terror, he couldn´t avoid his body and head hitting the edge of some crack in the cliff hard… and he was out cold before he hadn´t even reached the bottom.
The stuff is already there. I just find a different way to use it.
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by Monika »

Hi Bluegirl,
Good thing we all know that Mac still has many adventures to go.
Otherwise we would have t believe that the story is over.
Oh dear, this is going to be a long week.
The continuation of the story is awaited wih excitement, curiosity and heard pounding :oops: :oops: :oops:

From Monika with love
"As long as I always think of you and wish me somethings which I think is unattainable, there is no reason to be hurt by others."
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by bluegirl »

Monika wrote: Sun Jun 18, 2023 8:14 pm Hi Bluegirl,
Good thing we all know that Mac still has many adventures to go.
Otherwise we would have t believe that the story is over.
Oh dear, this is going to be a long week.
The continuation of the story is awaited wih excitement, curiosity and heard pounding :oops: :oops: :oops:

From Monika with love
Since this is meant to tell the story of how it all began... yes, I´ll admit that MacGyver is quite likely to survive ;) 8-) :D but how???

As for your excitement, curiosity and pounding heart... that´s the point of writing a 'cliffhanger', right? ;) :lol: To keep my readers 'interested', so to say 8-)

I´m glad you like it! :D 8-)
The stuff is already there. I just find a different way to use it.
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by JB5 »

Wow!!! Poor Mac.....!! Mega-whump!!! 😂😂😂
I'm loving it - so good!!! :D :D :D
Excellent Bluegirl!!! :D :D :D

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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by bluegirl »

JB5 wrote: Mon Jun 19, 2023 5:29 pm Wow!!! Poor Mac.....!! Mega-whump!!! 😂😂😂
I'm loving it - so good!!! :D :D :D
Excellent Bluegirl!!! :D :D :D

Thanks a lot! :D 8-)

Feedback like this is what keeps me writing! ;)
The stuff is already there. I just find a different way to use it.
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by bluegirl »

Good morning! (at least right now, here in the middle of Europe ;) )

Time to give MacGyver a chance to get out of his current predicament (since I admitted he´s likely to survive) ... but there might be a bit of a cliffhanger at the end of this one as well... :? :roll:

Part 10

Javier Moreno slowly lowered the rifle with a self-satisfied, yet dangerous grin after he´d watched MacGyver stumble and then drop over the edge of the cliff.

“That should do it.” he declared after a moment as he turned back to his henchmen.

He returned the rifle to the man who´d been carrying it previously, who quickly flipped on the safety before flinging it over his shoulder.

“You hit him on his left side, boss.” Another man acknowledged Moreno´s aim with a nod. “He´s dead.”

Moreno glanced toward the cliff over his shoulder and then pinned his goon with a hard stare.

“I´d like to see that myself,” he stated in a tone that left no room for argument. “Let´s go.” With that, he turned and led his men further down the slope.

They hadn´t reached the top of the rock face yet and were just about to head sideways toward it when Moreno abruptly stopped. He gazed downward. The foot of the rock face was in clear sight from their location. As was the silhouette of a motionless body. Moreno held out one hand to his goons.

“Binoculars,” he ordered curtly.

One of his men complied quickly and placed them in his open hand. Javier Moreno didn´t take his eyes off Mac´s form even for a split second as he grabbed the glasses and then raised them to his eyes. Silently, he observed for a minute or two.

He took in every detail of the man lying half on his back, half on his side, with one arm draped across his head, covering most of his pale face. Saw the bandages above and below his knee thanks to the torn pants. Spotted the large, dark red stain on the left side of Mac´s shirt as he lay there, unmoving. Only the soft wind tugged a little at his hair and the fabric of his shirt and pants.

None of Moreno´s goons dared to say a word while their boss was gazing down. Time seemed to stretch unbearably until Moreno lowered the binoculars and let out a deep breath.

“Finally… He won´t cause any more trouble.” he assessed.

“Shall we go down, check closely, and get rid of the body?” one of the men who´d fallen for Mac´s distraction earlier asked eagerly, attempting to redeem himself. “Or put another bullet into his head? Just to be…”

“No.” Moreno cut him off low without even turning to him. “We can´t afford to waste ammunition and we can´t afford to waste any more time. He´s cost us enough.” He glanced at his watch. “I saw no signs that he´s still alive. We gotta return to our camp.” He returned the binoculars to the man who´d handed them out and faced his men. “As for the body… bears, wolves, or whatever comes by will take care of it. There won´t be a lot of him left to find real soon… should whoever he´s been working for come looking for him,” he added and then gestured up the mountain. “Now go. Let´s head back.”

After a last, quick glance downward over his shoulder, finally convinced that he´d gotten rid of this nuisance of a man, although he inwardly credited the man for how remarkably long he´d held up, Moreno followed his thugs. Now he could return to taking care of restoring his business. At last.


Pete Thornton was startled to a halt abruptly by the sound of distant cracks. His thoughts ran berserk the moment the sound registered in his head. Gunfire. Again. Two single shots this time. From a different rifle. Pete assessed all of this automatically while he turned toward where the noise had come from. So MacGyver has survived their first attempt to shoot him… and he´s still keeping them busy. Pete let out a sigh. Hopefully, he´s survived this one as well.

Once more, the senior agent fought back the sudden urge to hurry off and help his rookie. He knew it would make even less sense this time. He still had no time to spare. Pete was even further away now since he´d taken a wide bend crossing the valley floor, and he was already halfway across it. All with the purpose to avoid getting discovered while he hiked toward the clearing because he had to keep the films safe until he got picked up by the helicopter. Thornton reminded himself that he´d promised to do so to the young man. MacGyver trusted him on this. As he still had to trust MacGyver to be able to do his job and come through – despite his battered condition.

Pete shot his watch a glance. He would easily be able to make it to the meeting point in time. But it eluded him how Mac would… had he been anywhere close to the gunshots Pete had heard a minute ago. He´d still have to cross the whole valley to reach the clearing. Even on a straight course, it seemed impossible regarding his wounded leg.

On the other hand… maybe Moreno´s goons had shot at some conjured-up diversion, MacGyver hadn´t been close to anymore. String, wire, a fishing pole, and a hunting knife. Pete kind of automatically recalled what the young man had taken along. It also eluded him how MacGyver had planned to distract Moreno´s goons with those items… or even defend himself.

An uncomfortable sense of foreboding settled in Pete Thornton´s stomach. Try how much he might, he couldn´t deny that he was worried about the kid. He was also worried he might have to return with the chopper three hours later, as they had agreed earlier, and was worried about what he might discover then. He was concerned MacGyver wouldn´t be able to hold up against the thugs all alone for that long.

Pete drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out in a long, quiet sigh, urging himself inwardly to hold on to his trust in the young man. Once again. Then he reoriented himself and resumed his way to the clearing.


A pounding headache was the first thing that greeted MacGyver when he slowly regained consciousness. The rustling of the wind in the leaves of trees and undergrowth followed along with the coolness it brought to his skin. A realization slowly dawned on him.

If I can still feel a headache… and the cold… I still gotta be alive, right? Moreno´s bullet hasn´t finished me off…

Mac subconsciously drew in a deep breath with his musings, but a sharp pain racing across his chest stopped him mid-way. He bit his lower lip to stifle a moan and at the same time noticed the awkward and unnatural position he was lying in.

The fall hasn´t killed me either…

A little relief eased up the inner tension that the sudden hurt had caused. Cautiously, with only little twitches of his fingers and toes, he tested if he could still sense and use his arms and legs, but froze as quickly again as the thought occurred to him that, at the moment, he knew nothing about his surroundings or the whereabouts of Javier Moreno and his men. Moving would give away that he wasn´t dead.

Abruptly, Mac forced himself to concentrate on the sounds that enveloped him; tried to hear if anyone was nearby, or make out any sign that someone was moving toward him. After a minute or two of intensely listening to the relative silence of the forest, MacGyver convinced himself that there was no one close to him and blinked his eyes open. They needed a moment to focus. He couldn´t see anyone either… at least not in the part of the woods that he could overlook while he still lay unmoving.

Seems I´m alone, Mac decided. Time to take the chance.

Slowly, gingerly, he lifted the arm draped across his head and moved it so he could feel for his hurting left side. He was sure the bullet had hit him and his hand found his shirt soaked wet and sticky. He discovered tears in both his shirts and followed them to his skin. MacGyver puffed out a relieved breath when his probing fingers didn´t sense a hole but a gash crossing his ribs. He raised his head a little to look at the mess and saw his skin, shirts, and hand crimson red with his blood. The tear in his skin wasn´t bleeding all too badly anymore and after a gaze around himself, Mac let his head drop back to the ground.

It just grazed me… the bloodstain and me ending up unconscious due to the fall must have convinced Moreno that he has finally managed to kill me, MacGyver thought. That´s probably why they didn´t follow me… it could also be why I´m still alive…

He tried to stretch a little, to find a more comfortable position, but the agony from all his older bruises and injuries returned and mixed with new ones, and Mac went still once more. To top it all off, a shiver reminded him of the fever he was running.

Guess, I´d better get moving if I wanna stay alive… gotta meet Pete and that helicopter… out here I won´t find a doctor that makes house calls…

Cautiously, MacGyver rolled over to his side and pushed himself up to a sitting position with a low groan. He let a wave of dizziness pass, reoriented himself, and glanced at his watch. His fall had taken him almost to the valley floor. If he took a straight route to the clearing and hurried… the odds of making it until 1800 weren´t good… but he´d agreed with Pete that he´d return with the chopper three hours later.

Mac drew in a deep breath and moaned with the fiery pain blazing through his wounded leg as he gingerly got to his feet. He quickly fought back the doubt if his leg would carry him this far and walked off, every now and then using a tree to steady his staggering steps.


MacGyver had gotten beyond the rough terrain at the foot of the rock face and was relieved he only had to hike across the valley floor now when it dawned on him that it would get more difficult than he had thought. His physical condition was more of a hindrance than he´d expected. He´d taken another hit to his head during the fall, the drop had also awoken some of his earlier bruises, his injured leg was barely carrying him without the support of his crutch, and the blood loss from the bullet graze continued to weaken him. Constant vertigo caused forest and ground to seemingly move around him.

His strength was slowly running out, MacGyver realized as he leaned against a tree for a few moments, shivering with fever and fighting to gather some of his remaining energy. He took deep, steadying breaths, while his hand covered the bullet wound protectively, and rested his head against the trunk.

I´m gonna have to cross a creek real soon.

The thought popped up abruptly in his foggy mind and he subconsciously licked his chapped lips. Drinking some water would help. Mac raised his head with this newly found goal, strove to focus his eyes, and pushed himself off the tree.


A small while later, the creek came into sight. It carries more water than it did a few days ago, Mac noticed. Probably due to the storm last night. But it´s still shallow enough to securely cross it. He stumbled toward the river´s edge and wearily dropped to his knees with a groan. His wounded leg protested wildly, so he shifted his weight to the other side and sat down so he could straighten it out. He puffed out a breath and bent forward to the water.

An icy cold hit his skin while he rinsed the blood off his hands before he cupped them and drank some of the water. The cool water soothed his parched mouth and throat but also caused him to shudder once it reached his stomach. MacGyver fought back the sudden discomfort, knowing his body direly needed the fluid due to fever and exertion, and drank some more.

He then sat back and allowed himself a break while he examined the gash across his chest. It was still weeping a little and wasn´t going to stop anytime soon since he had no means to cover it and had to stay on the move. He still had to reach that clearing. Mac glanced at his watch and then raised his eyes to the opposite side of the creek.

He probably wouldn´t make it until 6 p.m. He´d accepted that fact by now. But he could make it until 9 p.m. He wasn´t going to further disappoint Pete Thornton by not showing up. Even if his body was slowly failing him, he somehow had to find the energy to keep walking. Giving up was not an option.

With a deep sigh, MacGyver pushed himself off the ground and, with some effort, got to his feet again. He swayed a little but staggered forward into the water. Mac gasped as the cold water seeped into his boots that had only just dried up. He tried to mentally push against the sensation and suppress the shivers that instantly ran through his body and pressed on. The water ran up to his knees in the middle of the stream and Mac had to work hard to keep his footing with the strong current pulling on him. He was panting heavily with the strain by the time he´d reached the other edge of the river.

He stopped briefly, drew in a few deep breaths to calm his racing heart, and gladly noticed that the icy water had numbed part of his leg. The pain radiating through it had significantly lessened. Determined to use even the slightest bit of advantage he´d get, MacGyver straightened himself, scanned the area for the most suitable way, and then limped off toward the clearing.


MacGyver´s relief was short-lived though. He´d faced a not all-too-high, but rocky slope soon after he´d crossed the river and his soaked boots hadn´t made climbing it any easier. The extra weight on his feet, the wetness, and the cold made each of his steps even more difficult than they would have already been due to his weakened condition.

Mac held on to a tree after he´d reached the top of the slope and took a break. He closed his eyes to fight back some vertigo and noticed at the same time that the throbbing had returned to his leg with almost full force. So much for small advantages, he thought wearily. I should have known it wasn´t gonna last long… but I gotta keep moving… it´s my best chance to keep my circulation going… my best chance to survive.

Mac raised his head, forced his eyes open knowing that they wouldn´t focus properly anymore, and pushed himself off the tree. The forest he was walking through grew relatively open and allowed the sun´s rays to filter through to the ground every here and there. MacGyver appreciated the bit of warmth it added to the air. It was late afternoon by now and he was also thankful that wind and sun had mostly dried up the soil around here. Not having to be careful about the slippery ground was one thing less he had to worry about. His fuzzy brain wasn´t able to hold on to a clear thought for long anyway.

Several minutes later, MacGyver came aware that he´d been staggering on only by muscle memory, not really paying attention to his surroundings anymore. The realization alarmed some remaining survival mode inside him and he stopped to reorient himself. He couldn´t afford to lose his way. Not in his current situation. Mac drew in a deep breath, mentally willing the agony throughout his body to subside, and stepped forward to where he believed the clearing to be. He had to press on.

Only a couple of steps later though, his thorough exhaustion finally got the better of him. He stopped coughing and doubled over with the hurting it caused. The ground suddenly began to rock dizzily below his feet; he felt his heartbeat thudding in his ears; another shiver shook him, and his legs couldn´t support him anymore. MacGyver collapsed to his hands and knees with a pained gasp and fought to push himself up again, but his strength was spent.

Three hours later…

His own words echoed in his head as his vision blurred and his arms gave up on him as well.

Alright. I´ll be there.

Pete´s assurance also returned to his mind just before his body went slack on the ground and everything was swallowed up by the darkness and silence of unconsciousness.


Pete Thornton arrived early at the clearing. He stopped at a little distance from the tree line and warily scanned the area with his eyes. When all seemed quiet and no threat was imminent, he relaxed a bit and glanced at his watch.

20 minutes to go… and so far, no sign of MacGyver, Pete mentally noted with a sigh. But if I were him, I´d find myself some hiding spot to rest and wait. Me, on the other hand, I´d better use the time I got left before the helicopter arrives to perform a perimeter check… make sure everything´s safe… might even find the kid while doing so.

Pete readjusted the backpack on his shoulders and tightened his grip on MacGyver´s pack before he puffed out a breath. He kept some distance to the clearing while he carefully made his way through thicket and trees. As silently as he could, the senior agent rounded the clearing and was satisfied to find none of Javier Moreno´s men.

After all, they´d chosen this meeting point because it was quite far off from the arms smuggler´s camp. Pete was relieved that they still didn´t consider a place that distant worth observing… also meaning that MacGyver had managed to keep them off Pete´s tail and hopefully had as well managed to get them off his own again.

Pete had just completed his check with only a couple of minutes to go until 6 p.m. when he heard the distant, low, flapping sound of a helicopter´s rotor. Instinctively, he ducked low and sneaked forward to the clearing´s edge. He couldn´t afford to be seen before the chopper was here – there was always the possibility that he had missed one of the bad guys. Hiding behind a large tree and listening to the helicopter closing in, Pete kept gazing around the open space. He spotted nothing… no movement that gave away that anyone but himself was there.

Several moments later, the rotor´s downstream reached the clearing, ruffling trees, bushes and grass. The helicopter hovered above the clearing for a few seconds while Pete´s inner tension rose as he waited if anyone else would step out of the woods. But nothing happened. None of Moreno´s henchmen turned up to shoot at the chopper. Neither could he see MacGyver emerging from the trees anywhere. Pete´s heart sank with the realization.

If I get delayed, just return with the chopper to the same spot three hours later.

MacGyver´s words echoed in Thornton´s head as he got up, hurried onto the clearing, and raised one arm, waving to the helicopter´s crew. The soldier sitting in the open back door of the Huey noticed him at once and signaled to the pilot. Pete ducked his head to shield his face from blown-up dust and stones as the pilot lowered the helicopter and ran toward it as soon as its skids touched the ground.

The soldier pushed himself off the door´s edge with an MP in his hands, instantly concentrating on their surroundings, ready to defeat Pete and the chopper against whatever threat may arise. He greeted Pete with a nod once he arrived at the Huey. Another soldier greeted him from the inside and reached out to help Pete as he raised Mac´s backpack. Together, they shoved it to the back of the chopper before Pete climbed inside and shrugged off his own.

“Good to see you again, Sir.” The co-pilot turned around to him. “Seems you found his stuff but didn´t find your rookie.”

“As a matter of fact, I did, Captain.” Pete faced the young man in the front. “But we had to separate during the last part of our way down the mountain.”

He noticed that the soldier had already taken his place at the edge of the door again. Everyone was preparing for the helicopter to take off.

“Give him a few more minutes, will you?” Pete asked the co-pilot. “He might be a little late.”

The co-pilot and pilot both nodded and returned their eyes to the tree line, alert for any movement that might signal someone being there. Pete was just about to turn back to the open door when the soldier that had stayed in the back of the chopper addressed him.

“He might be late, Sir?” he repeated. “Are you worried he might have gotten injured?”

Pete´s head snapped around to the man whose badges and insignia labeled him as an officer, but also as a doctor. The medical officer the Air Force had promised to send along for their pick-up flight, just in case, Pete noticed. He sighed.

“He´s already been wounded yesterday, doctor,” Pete answered with a serious face. “Before I found him… and he got injured again while he made sure I could get away unharmed and unseen from the smuggler´s camp with the evidence.”

“That bad, it might slow him down?” The doctor tried to clarify.

“Yes.” Pete´s expression turned even darker as the harrowing memory of MacGyver cauterizing his leg wounds popped up in his head. “It would. But he said, he´d try to make it… and if he didn´t, we agreed I´d be here again in three hours.”

The doctor nodded, drew back a little from Pete, sensing his inner tension, and turned to look out of the window of the closed door on the opposite side of the helicopter. The senior agent skidded to the still-open door and scanned the direction, MacGyver had to come from, with his eyes. His worries mounted. The dreaded sense of foreboding returned to his stomach and worsened.

Since the rotor´s downstream caused a lot of disturbances in the trees and undergrowth along the clearing´s edge, it was quite hard to spot anything else. All five men kept watching out silently… but no one came out of the forest. The tension inside the Huey rose with every minute passing.

“We gotta leave, Sir.” The pilot suddenly called over his shoulder. “The longer we stay on the ground, the more dangerous it gets.”

Thornton drew in a deep breath. The pilot had a point. If Moreno´s men had noticed the helicopter pass through the valley and land… they had an easy target. On the ground, they were sitting ducks. But he wasn´t willing or ready to give up on his rookie yet.

“Alright.” Pete nodded and moved behind the pilot´s seat. He almost instantly sensed the chopper lift off the ground. “But before we head back to the base…” Pete continued. “Do a sweep of the area between here and the huge rock face at two o´clock.”

That cliff was where he suspected the last gunshots had sounded from. Maybe they could find MacGyver. Both pilots turned around to him surprised by his request. The helicopter stood still in the air above the clearing.

“Sir, my orders are to take you back as soon as we´ve picked you up.” The pilot protested. “We´ve already stayed too long. Flying closer to that mountain could…”

“I´m aware of the risks.” Pete cut him off sharply. “But I also know there´s a wounded man down there who probably needs our help.”

“You said, you´d promised him we´d return in three hours.” The pilot argued on. “That´ll be no problem if I carry out my order to…”

“I am modifying your orders, Major.” Pete interrupted the officer again, emphasizing the rank of the pilot this time. “Have you got a problem with that?”

He used his command tone although he knew it was quite a gamble. According to military insignia, he´d outrank all four soldiers in this helicopter. He´d made it to the rank of Colonel before he´d left the military. But that was his problem. He´d left. He wasn´t in their chain of command anymore. Pete knew those pilots didn´t have to take any orders from him but did they know? For a few seconds, the pilot held Thornton´s intense and serious stare but then he gave in.

“No, Sir.” He directed his focus back to his controls and the rock face in the distance. “I´m going low and slow so we can watch out for your man.”

“Thanks, Major.” Pete slowly let out the breath he hadn´t realized he´d been holding and returned to the open door at once. He was grateful for the forest not growing as dense in this part of the valley. He and the men could see down to the ground for a good part of the time as the helicopter passed over the trees. But the knot in his stomach grew tighter and heavier with every minute passing. Something had gone terribly wrong… he just knew.

If the kid has gotten killed during his attempt to distract Moreno´s men, I´m endangering this mission for nothing, the senior agent thought. If he´s chosen to take his time and be at the clearing at 2100, and gone hiding and resting somewhere, I´m also putting all at risk should we be spotted and attacked… a military helicopter is kind of hard to overlook, isn´t it? … On the other hand… if his condition has worsened for whatever reason, and he can´t make it on his own anymore… we´ve got to do everything we can to help him…

Pete sighed deeply as a creek running through the valley came into sight several minutes later. If he is down there somewhere, MacGyver has to hear the chopper flying through the valley. Why doesn´t he somehow signal where to find him?

Pete felt his hopes sink the longer they searched for the rookie. But then he pulled himself together and squared his shoulders. MacGyver isn´t one to give up easily… or at all, Pete added. I won´t either. I owe this young man as much.

They had made it almost to the small river when Pete´s eyes suddenly caught on something familiar on the ground at a little distance beside the helicopter. A lanky build he´d come to know so well by now, torn pants, and a dark shirt. A wave of relief rushed through him.

“Over there!” Pete called over his shoulder toward the pilot. “At four o´clock!”

The pilot immediately turned the chopper to the direction Pete had indicated and slowed down once he´d also spotted the figure on the ground. But Pete Thornton´s relief about finding MacGyver morphed into serious concern the closer they got. The rotor´s downstream was ruffling trees and bushes, as well as the clothes and hair of the young man, but Mac didn´t react to the wind or noise at all. He was sprawled out on his front, unmoving.

“Oh no…” Pete muttered under his breath as he observed MacGyver for a couple of seconds. His blood ran cold. Then he turned to the pilot.

“I gotta get to him!” he called. “Fast!”

“There´s not enough room to land.” The pilot shook his head. “I can´t take her down here, Sir.”

“Then find the closest place where you can!” Pete snapped back. “Now!”

His focus returned to MacGyver once the chopper climbed a bit higher and moved off to a small clearing at a little distance only a moment later. His inner tension rose almost unbearably when Mac got out of his sight again. Pete shifted his position so would be able to get out of the Huey as fast as possible. He turned to the armed soldier beside him.

“You´ll guard the helicopter once it´s on the ground.” He ordered.

Then he looked over his shoulder at the doctor.

“You´re coming with me. I´m afraid, he´ll need your help.”

Pete didn´t pay attention to the medic getting his case ready as the chopper started its descent. His mind went berserk with considering the possible meanings of what he´d discovered. MacGyver lying completely still… Dead? Or just unconscious? Seriously wounded? Or just thoroughly exhausted? Pete puffed out a sigh and forced himself to focus on the route he had to take to get to the young man as quickly as possible. He couldn´t afford to lose his nerves right now. For MacGyver´s sake.

He was off the helicopter and running toward MacGyver´s position as soon as its skids had touched the ground.


A somehow familiar, loud flapping noise made it through the thick darkness that engulfed MacGyver´s mind. His brain needed a couple of seconds to focus on the sound and his thoughts needed even more. Then he felt gusts of wind pulling on his hair and his clothes. The feverish haze lifted only slowly in his worn-out mind. But then a memory popped up.

The helicopter… he had to meet a helicopter… at some clearing… to get out of these woods… All of sudden, his brain matched the flapping sound to the rotors of a helicopter. The realization that this chopper had to be really close sent a rush of adrenaline into Mac´s bloodstream and awakened him even further. But then he noticed that the sound was fading… as if it was moving away.

Alarm grew in him at once and made his body tense up. Yet at the same very moment, the agony returned to most parts of his body as did the thorough exhaustion that still weighed him down. MacGyver groaned low but forced his eyes to open and brought his hands under himself.

He couldn´t recall later on how he`d made it to his feet, since his foggy mind was solely focused on the sound of the helicopter. It seemed to have landed at a little distance and the only thought Mac could hold on to was the knowledge, the urge that he had to get to it. Some panic and despair rose in him with the realization that he probably wouldn´t reach it in time before it took off again, that he might not be able to make it. In his seriously weakened state, he wasn´t so sure anymore if he´d be able to hang on until it would return three hours later.

He had to catch himself every few steps with the help of a tree as he staggered on and his vision blurred with the ache still pounding in his head. He fell to his knees with a pained gasp after only a few minutes but immediately fought himself back up and stumbled on. Several steps later though, despite his desperation pressing him to carry on, his knees buckled, the soil below his feet and the forest around him tilted uncontrollably, and he collapsed to the ground again.

He wasn´t sure if he´d heard someone call his name in that same split second because his head was only filled with the sound of the rotors and his own blood rushing in his ears. For a couple of moments, he lay still on his front, battling to stay conscious, striving to gather the last of his energy reserves. Giving up was still not an option.

Then MacGyver tried to push himself up again. That was when strong hands grabbed on to his upper arms, hindering him, holding him in place.
The stuff is already there. I just find a different way to use it.
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by JB5 »

Argghh!!!! Another cliff hanger.....:o :o :o

Excellent (as always) Bluegirl.......really makes my Sunday when I read your latest chapter...... :D :D :D

Oh - now to wait until next Sunday....... :cry: :cry: :cry:

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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by bluegirl »

JB5 wrote: Sun Jun 25, 2023 1:00 pm Argghh!!!! Another cliff hanger.....:o :o :o

Excellent (as always) Bluegirl.......really makes my Sunday when I read your latest chapter...... :D :D :D

Oh - now to wait until next Sunday....... :cry: :cry: :cry:

At your service, my dear... :D 8-) :D feedback like this makes my day!

As for the cliffhanger - Pete´s on his way - and there are only three more parts to go... so what yould possibly go wrong now? :o :roll: 8-)
The stuff is already there. I just find a different way to use it.
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Re: Starting Point - a MacGyver FanFiction

Post by Wathorighh »

Hi bluegirl,

well, you know, I'm a bit behind reading. I finished part 6 yesterday. Just want to let you know, I like it so far and hope that I can mostly catch up the last parts until the weekend. First I had to get used to the time changes but when reading en bloc I got fast used to it.

I especially like the idea that Mac and Pete kinda met before without knowing it. That also might be an explanation of their deep friendship later on.

And poor Mac. Will he ever get a break? I did hold my beath when he almost drowned after falling down the slope into the wild water.

So I'm off again. There's reading stuff waiting for me. ;) :D
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