COATLICUE

by Cindy Combs

  "It's my initials, S-A-M. I decided I liked it better than Sean, so I use it. Only the Donnellys still call me Sean."

  "What does the 'A' stand for?" Jim asked as he descended the stairs.

  Sam smiled. "Something awful."

  Blair narrowed his eyes in puzzlement as he laid out the chopping board. "Come on. It can't be that bad."

  "Oh, yes it can."

  "Then how did you get blessed with it?" Jim asked.

  "Mom loved it," Sam answered darkly. "Dad said if he had been around, he would have stopped her, but I rather doubt he could have."

  "Why would Mac have stopped her?" Blair asked, wondering what name could be so bad.

  Sam chuckled, "Because he avoids using it himself."

  "Ah," Jim replied, "It's Mac's middle name."

  "No, his first."

  "His first?" Blair repeated.

  Then he and Jim looked at each other, realizing they had never heard Mac's first name. Seeing their faces, Sam laughed. "Man, is he good, or what? I suspect over three quarters of his friends don't know it. I'm not even sure Pete knows it."

  A loud knock at the door interrupted their laughter. "Who's there?" Jim called as he walked towards the door.

  "Banks."

  Jim smiled. He already knew that from the lingering smell of Simon's cigars, but wanted to keep up pretenses around Sam. He opened the door.

  Simon ushered Pete Thornton in, then stared in pretend horror to see Blair in the kitchen. "You're letting him cook again?"

  "Hey!" Blair called back, "For that, I might not let you eat."

  Simon sniffed the air. "Are you cooking some of that health food garbage?"

  Jim, taking Sam's bags from Pete, tried not to smile as a worried look passed across Sam's face.

  "Well, it's pasta, and a salad. Afraid it will lower your blood pressure too much?"

  "I had the marinara sauce last week, Simon. I can vouch for it," Jim added, more for Sam's benefit than his friend.

  "Okay, I guess I'll stay," Simon replied with a smile, hanging Pete's coat on the hooks by the door. "As long as you are going easy with the ostrich."

  Sam's face still looked worried. "Ah, Blair, what do you guys eat for breakfast?"

  Puzzled, Blair replied, "Oh, eggs and toast, bagels sometimes. Donuts if Jim bought them. Why?"

  As Sam tried to form a polite reply, Pete chuckled heartily. "Afraid you'd get one of Mac's healthy breakfast drinks?"

  "Have you ever TRIED one of them?" Sam asked. He made a face and shuddered. "Even his bread is organically-grown and multi-grain. After a week of Dad's healthy vegetarian cooking, Mickey D's starts looking like paradise." Sam took Pete's arm, and walked with him to the couch.

  Jim smiled. "I know that feeling. I have never enjoyed anything more than my first Big Mac after Peru." He walked over to join Simon, Pete and Sam in the living room.

  "You missed McDonald's, Jim?" Blair called in amazement as he checked the pasta.

  "After 18 months in the jungle, even you would miss grease," Jim said with a chuckle. He then turned serious. "Sam, do you have any idea who would want to abduct you?"

  Eyes reflecting his memory search, Sam frowned a moment and responded, "No. I admit there are a few people back in Bosnia who aren't thrilled with me, but not enough to try anything while I'm in the States. Nor am I working on anything at the moment."

  Jim frowned. That wasn't much more than what Suzanne had given him.

  "Right now, I have my people back at Phoenix checking Mac's background for anyone holding a grudge," Pete inserted, anticipating Ellison's next question.

  Did that include the elaborate Murdoc? "Any luck?"

  Pete sighed. "Not so far, but I'm afraid between the DXS and Phoenix, Mac's record is rather long. We are still checking."

  Simon added, "My talk with Miss Donnelly's parents didn't reveal anything, either. Neither was able to think of anyone who would attack their daughter. Nor did they think this could be anything more than random violence."

  Jim shook his head. "That wouldn't make sense. The intent seems more like an abduction than a robbery."

  Everyone paused a moment, thinking over the attack. Jim noticed a faint mix of confused unease slip over Sam's features, emotions he had seen on Blair's face in the past. Before he could say anything to the young man, Blair called out, "Dinner's ready!"

  As Jim escorted Simon and Pete to the door after supper, Sam plopped on the couch. Closing his eyes, he again tried to search his mind for a reason to abduct him. Again, he came up empty. He felt guilty dragging his hard-working father back across the Atlantic when he wasn't even sure what was going on. Dad needed a vacation with good friends, especially the pretty Dr. Kelly Carson.

  "How are you doing?" Blair asked with concern as he sat two cups of tea on the coffee table.

  Sam opened his eyes and turned towards him as Blair sat on the other end of the couch. "Okay. Just wish I could give Jim more to go on."

  Blair shrugged his shoulders. "Don't worry. Jim's pretty good at picking up clues out of thin air." Literally. "So, didn't Katie say something about a statue you wanted to show me?"

  Sam smiled. "Yeah, it's in my camera case."

  Blair jumped up, trotting over to where Jim had placed Sam's gear by his bedroom door. Finding the camera case, he picked it up and handed it to Sam. Sam smiled, thinking to himself, "And Dad thinks I'm energetic?" He clicked open the lock, and pulled out an eight-inch statue.

  Blair glanced at it as he sat on the floor next to Sam. "That looks like Coatlicue."

  "Who?" Jim asked as he sat in a chair across from them.

  Sam chuckled, "I think those were my exact words to Mrs. Farrell when she said the name."

  "Who's Mrs. Farrell?" Blair asked as he accepted the stone statue from Sam.

  "She was an old neighbor lady of mine and the Donnellys when we were in Chicago. When their bickering got nasty, I'd sneak over to her garden for some quiet." Eyes distant, Sam smiled fondly, thinking of the sharp old lady who had a heart of gold. "Looking back, I realize she must have figured out what was going on, because she never questioned why I was there. She'd bring out whatever she had just baked, and we'd talk about the world. Her husband had been an archeologist and use to take her on all his digs. Then, when I wasn't quite 17, the Donnelly's separated, and headed for different parts of the country. I felt like excess baggage, and really didn't want to leave high school just before my senior year. So, Mrs. Farrell made me an offer- if I would mow the lawn, shovel snow, and fix things around her house, she'd let me stay in the room above the garage." Sam felt a familiar surge of gratitude. "It was great. I helped her out, and I actually had a place to stay until I was done with school. Afterwards, I'd always keep in touch with her during my travels, sending letters and postcards and such."

  "Then the statue belongs to her?" Jim asked.

  "Did," Sam replied sadly. "She died last month, just before I got back from assignment. She left it and a cabin near here to me in her will."

  Blair glanced up sharply from his examination of the statue, hearing the faint tones of grief in Sam's voice. "I'm sorry."

  "Thanks." Sam replied.

  Feeling the weight in the air, Jim turned the conversation back to the original topic. "Okay, Chief, what is the name of that thing again?" He walked over to take a better look.

  "Coatlicue, the old earth goddess of Aztec myth. See the snakes that form her skirt, " Blair pointed out to Sam and Jim, "her clawed feet for eating the dead, and her bare breasts. She was considered the mother of the moon, stars, and Huitzilopochtli."

  "Who?" Jim and Sam asked together.

  Blair smiled and chuckled. "Huitzilopochtli. He was the major Aztec warrior god who fought the night so the sun could rise. The Aztec's performed human sacrifices to him so that the sun would rise each morning."

  "Sounds pretty gruesome," Jim commented, peering over Blair's shoulder at the stone figure in his hands, noting the necklace of severed hands and heads.

/>   "Yeah," Blair smiled broadly, handing the statue to Jim so he could study it further. "Just the kind of tales Daryl would love."

  "Daryl?" Sam asked.

  "Simon's teenager. He's at that age where the more gore in the story, the better."

  "An age I don't think you ever got over," Jim observed as he ran his fingers over the stone. Something didn't feel quite right.

  "So," Sam stated thoughtfully, "the Aztecs feared the sun wouldn't rise again if they didn't do their 'cut-out-pumping-hearts' gig?"

  Blair nodded. "In their culture, blood was the 'sacred liquor'. Giving your life for sacrifice was consider the most highest ..."

  Screech Blair and Sam turned to Jim, who was staring numbly at the statue, now laying in two pieces in his hands.

  "What did you do?!?" Blair asked, shocked.

  "I just thought I felt a seam, that's all," Jim defended himself, stunned that it had come apart.

  "Here I thought it was pretty solid," Sam commented reassuringly, gently pulling the feet from Jim's hands. He turned it from side to side, "You know, it looks like it was SUPPOSE to slip off."

  Blair picked up the upper half to study it. "You're right. It does look like it was made that way."

  Jim breathed a sigh of relief. He had been afraid that he had destroyed Sam's heirloom. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the piece in Blair's hand. "What's this?" Jim turned the smooth end towards him, then ran a sensitive fingertip over the slight opening. "Feels like there is some paper in here."

  "What?" Sam queried, turning his attention to the piece Blair held.

  Jim took the upper half back from Blair. As Sam and Blair watched, he grasped the end, and carefully pulled the paper out using his fingernails.

  "Well, that looks too modern to be Aztec," Blair commented as Jim gently unrolled the yellowing paper.

  "Or else the Aztecs could foretell the future," Jim added. He handed the paper to Sam, "It is addressed to you."

  "What!" Sam repeated. Pulling the roll open with his fingers, Sam read the suddenly familiar handwriting.

  Dear Sam,

  You have been such a dear friend, enlivening my later years with your tales of travel and adventure. With your strong sense of justice, I hope you can do one last thing for me, to set right a wrong my husband committed, and I didn't have the heart to correct. Find the map under Huitzilopochtli's sister, and follow.

  Your friend,

  S. E. Farrell

  Stunned, Sam handed the paper back to Jim, who promptly read it, with Blair reading it over his shoulder. Jim looked back at Sam. "Do you know what she is talking about?"

  Sam shook his head. "Not the slightest. I have no idea what her husband might have done, or who the sister is I'm suppose to find."

  Blair thought for a moment. "Well, Huitzilopochtli's siblings were the moon and stars. We can talk to Dr. Trujillo, Rainier's Aztec expert, and see what more we can find out."

  "We can check into it tomorrow, while Simon and Mr. Thornton do more digging into today's incident," Jim stated. He noticed the weariness creeping into Sam's eyes. He gently slapped Sam on the leg. "Get some rest, and maybe you'll remember something more in the morning."

  Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

  MacGyver closed his burning eyes and tilted his head back, waiting for the numbers of a Cascade hotel room to click through. Too many images of past foes trying to hurt his son had made sleep impossible for him during the flight. Soon, a warm, familiar voice answered.

  "Hi Pete, it's Mac," Mac responded.

  "I figured it was you. First off, Sam is fine."

  Feeling a bit of tension ease, Mac wearily pointed out, "The message was from a hospital, Pete."

  "Yes, well someone did bang him around a little, and injected him with a tranquilizer. Now that the doctor has stitched up his arm and the drug wore off, he's fine."

  "Stitches?"

  "Just a small gash on his arm. It's a bit sore, but he is fine." Mac finally released the rest of the breath he had been holding since getting the call.

  "By the way, he and Miss Donnelly were rescued by an anthropology teaching fellow at Rainier." Pete waited.

  Mac's eyes blinked open. "Blair?" he asked incredulously.

  Pete chuckled at the reaction. "Yes, Blair Sandburg. Apparently, he saw the attack, ran up yelling, hit the man after Sam with his backpack, and scared them off."

  "Blair's okay?" Mac knew Blair was shorter and lighter than Sam.

  "Blair is fine. After Sam was released from the hospital, Blair and Jim Ellison invited him to stay at their place. I just returned from having supper over there."

  Another bit of tension eased off. Mac couldn't think of anyone else he'd rather have protecting his son than Ellison with his sentinel abilities. Though if someone from his past was after Sam, he'd prefer that Blair wasn't in the middle of it, too. "Any leads on who is after Sam?"

  "None at the moment, unfortunately. The Phoenix resources haven't turned up anything yet. Ellison and Banks are covering all the local bases."

  Fingers rubbing his tired eyes, Mac sighed. Hearing the soft noise, Pete reassured him, "Sam is safe for now, Mac. I know it is impossible to not worry, but try to get some sleep. Sam already feels guilty about dragging you away from your dig. He doesn't need to see you looking like death warmed over as well."

  Mac sighed again. "I'll give it a shot."

  "Just do it. Ellison strikes me as very competent, and I'm sure Sam is safe with him. You can see for yourself in the morning. "

  "I know, I know."

  "Well, then, get some sleep, and keep an eye out for yourself until we know what is going on, okay?"

  A faint smile surfaced on Mac's face at his friend's mothering. "Okay, Pete. Goodnight."

  Mac leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes once more.

  Cascade, WA, Ellison's loft

  "They are on your desk?... All right, Sam and I will meet you there after your meeting... See you later." Jim hung up the phone as Sam wandered stiffly out of the bathroom, pulling on a sweatshirt. Jim poured a cup of coffee.

  "Was that Blair?" Sam asked, gratefully accepting the cup.

  "Yeah, he has an early meeting at the University this morning. However, he did leave you this..." Jim pulled a plate from the warm oven.

  "Awesome, eggs," Sam grinned, accepting the plate and sniffing the wonderful smells.

  "Better than your Dad's breakfast?" Jim smirked.

  "Anything that doesn't come out of a blender is better than Dad's," Sam replied. "Blair is a great cook."

  Jim shrugged. "One of the reasons I keep him around. As soon as you are done there, let's head for the University."

  As Sam dug into his breakfast, Jim quickly checked in with Simon, Thornton, and Suzanne. It was Suzanne's news that grabbed his attention. "Someone broke into Katie Donnelly's dorm room last night."

  Jim quickly glanced at Sam, and asked, "Robbery?" Sam immediately turned his full attention to Jim.

  "Not sure. A roommate and her football-player boyfriend interrupted them, and they escaped. It appears that the place was searched, but nothing taken. Miss Donnelly herself stayed with her mother at the Marriot last night. In addition, the car Mr. Malloy rented was also broken into. We will need him to come down and tell us if anything was stolen."

  Jim exchanged looks with Sam. "We are heading that way right now. Will meet you in 30 minutes. And pass this information onto Banks." He clicked off the phone, then turned and repeated what Suzanne had told him.

  Sam shook his head, staring into the cup of coffee in his hands. "The only thing of value I own is my camera equipment, which Pete brought to me. " He lifted his eyes to meet Jim's. "I had planned to sleep on Katie's couch last night."

  The increasing confusion and concern was easy to read in the brown eyes. Jim gently punched his shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll figure this out."

  But how? So far, no one had any leads. Jim found himself staring at the little statue sitting on the coffee table. "Katie
Donnelly was right," he thought. "That is one ugly statue. " Thinking back on the note, Jim briefly wondered if Sam's former benefactor might have inadvertently dropped trouble into the young man's lap. Shoving the question aside for the moment, Jim picked up his keys. "Ready?" he asked.

  Sam quickly downed the last of his coffee, and trotted over to the couch to pick up his camera case, pausing to slide the statue into it.

  As they walked towards the truck, Jim caught the sound of heavy, running feet. Turning, he spied two muscular men matching Blair's descriptions. "GET IN THE TRUCK!" Jim yelled at Sam, tossing him the keys. Jim immediately turned to face the approaching men. The larger one threw a punch, which Jim quickly deflected and threw one of his own. Soon, they were rolling on the ground, fighting.

  The other chased after Sam. Quickly glancing around, Sam spied a canopy shading a store window. As the goon reached him, Sam swung his camera case. As the strap wrapped itself around the metal pole, Sam gave a sharp tug. With a snap, the pole was yanked out of it's socket, dropping the heavy canvas and frame on the man chasing him.

  Behind him, Jim managed to knock out the larger man, then sprung to his feet to search for Sam. Dashing to the fallen canopy, Jim yanked the other man out, and handcuffed him. Sam released a sigh of relief, when again they heard approaching footsteps.

  "SAM!" Turning, they spotted Mac running down the sidewalk.

  "Hey Dad," Sam called back with a sheepish grin.

  Mac pulled him in for a quick, tight hug, then pulled back, wrapping a hand around Sam's neck to study his son's face. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine, Dad. Just be careful of the arm, okay?"

  Mac looked over Sam's shoulder to Jim. "You?"

  Jim smiled. "Under control." He flipped open his cell phone to call Simon, watching Mac give his son another hug, noting the relief on Mac's tired face. He missed the camera taking pictures across the street.

  Hargrove Hall, Rainier University Campus

  "Well, just shift piles around, and make yourselves at home," Ellison threw over his shoulder as they entered Blair's office. The smell of coffee from the pot Blair left brewing drew him across the room.