Heirs to a Nightmare

by Cindy Combs

  Released as suddenly as he had been grabbed, the deputy stared in shock as Ellison and MacGyver walked towards the cabin. "What....?"

  "Ellison gets real grouchy whenever someone messes with his partner," Simon stated matter-of-factly. Sometimes it was a real joy to watch Ellison at his intimidating best.

  "And the other man is old Harry Jackson's grandson, MacGyver. He is a former DXS agent and the father of the missing men," Sheriff Connors replied, trying to keep from laughing. He was really beginning to like Ellison. "I keep warning you to get all your facts straight before jumping to conclusions. Also, the pretty redhead walking up is the mother to Detective Ellison's partner, so you'd better mind your manners."

  Jim and Mac quietly examined the net hanging in front of the cabin door, recently cut in order to pull the unfortunate deputies out. "This wasn't intended to cause any harm, only to capture," Jim pointed out.

  "Yeah," Mac agreed. "I suspect that this was meant for Blair and Sam, but for some reason they didn't get this far."

  A husky blonde with a tag identifying her as 'Deputy Kelsey' walked over. "Is one of you 'MacGyver'?"

  "Yes," Mac turned.

  She paused briefly, then handed him an envelope. "We found that nailed to the door. It didn't make much sense to us, but maybe since it is addressed to you..."

  Mac quickly pulled out a slip of paper.

  Younger generations

  just don't follow the plan.

  Will Papa MacGyver find them?

  Not if first I can.

  Murdoc

  Mac could barely control his hands from wadding up the paper. Jim quickly read it over his shoulder. "He's toying with you. Something went wrong, so he didn't catch them here but wants to keep you on edge."

  "He's doing a good job," Mac muttered. "So where are they?"

  Jim carefully searched the surrounding snow, then noticed some impressions nearby. Kneeling, Jim quietly asked Deputy Kelsey, "Did you have snow recently?"

  She nodded. "It snowed yesterday evening, starting around 4:30."

  Mac walked over to Jim. "What did you find?"

  "Looks like footprints, covered by a couple inches of snow. They are leading this way." Jim stood up and followed the prints, Mac carefully following behind him.

  Watching the two men walk behind the cabin, the deputy knelt where the bigger man had been. After a few minutes of intense study, she too was able to pick up the impressions. "Wow," she softly breathed. "He is good."

  Behind the cabin, Jim stopped, then turned to look across the narrow ravine. "The trail ends here. However, there are only indications of one person."

  "Sam or Blair?"

  "Definitely not Blair, the print is too large. I don't think it's Sam either. Stride doesn't look right."

  "Great, it was probably Murdoc." Mac noticed a small twitch in Jim's nose. "What do you smell?"

  "I'm not sure," Jim replied, puzzled. "It is very faint. Kinda like gunpowder, but not. Definitely doesn't belong here. I just can't place it." Again Mac's tension level crept up another notch. Just thinking of the possibilities with Murdoc scared him.

  At that moment the sheriff and Simon walked over. "Kelsey said you found prints."

  "Yeah, but they end here," Mac replied.

  Jim's attention was suddenly caught by a glint on the other side of the ravine. "What is over there?"

  The sheriff shrugged. "Another road. It isn't used much this time of year."

  Both Mac and Simon looked at Jim, realizing he had noticed something. "Well, someone was interested," Mac drawled. "Let's check it out."

  Mac was out of the jeep before it had stopped. Fear gripped him as he raced to the damaged vehicle ahead. It wasn't until he glanced inside that he could breathe again. Jim, only a couple of steps behind, stopped on the other side. They exchanged looks across the front seat, relieved to find no one hurt or worse.

  "It matches the description from the rental agency," Simon quietly stated as he and the sheriff joined them.

  Jim studied the damaged luggage in the back. "Yeah, this is their stuff." Picking up three prescription bottles that had rolled out of a ripped suitcase, Jim sighed, then placed them in his coat pocket. He paused a moment, searching. "Blair's backpack isn't here though. I think Sam was carrying one too, and it isn't here either."

  "Nor is Sam's camera case," Mac stated softly, still trying to get his pulse rate back to normal. "Sam doesn't go anywhere without his camera."

  "But why is the jeep over here?" the sheriff asked, puzzled.

  A sudden thought occurred to Jim. "Mac, has Sam ever been to the cabin before?"

  "No, I gave him a map..." Mac lifted his head to meet Jim's eyes, realization dawning. "But he was probably driving, so he would have given the map to Blair."

  "And with Blair's crummy sense of direction, he promptly got them lost," Simon finished, following their thoughts. "Though actually, this is pretty close for Blair." He glanced back at the rear of the vehicle, trying to remember where he had seen a similar damage pattern. Horror crossed his face as he made the connection. "Damn."

  Three pairs of eyes turned to him. "What?" Jim asked.

  "That damage looks like it was done by a grenade," Simon stated reluctantly.

  "Oh hell," Jim moaned, now identifying the earlier smell. "Someone used a grenade launcher on the other side."

  "Murdoc," Mac stated coldly. The thought of that bastard shooting grenades at his sons froze him with an icy fury.

  Pushing away his own anger, Jim gathered his thoughts. "Mac, Sam has been in war zones as a photojournalist, right?"

  Struggling to cool down, Mac faintly smiled though his eyes were haunted. "Yeah, though he tends to tone down the details with me."

  "So he would be slightly familiar with grenades." Jim walked around the jeep, trying to envision the situation and how Sam would react. Deep in thought, he paused by a nearby ditch, kneeling to take a better look. "Here we go." Jim pointed out impressions and turned rocks to the others joining him. "This is how Blair and Sam escaped."

  "So where are they now?" Simon asked. Jim looked up the ditch, then beyond into the wilderness. His jaw clenched at the thought of Sam and his still sick partner out there being chased by a 'crazy like a fox' hitman.

  Following Jim's gaze, the sheriff quickly replied, "I'll gather up the search parties."

  Mac turned to him. "You will have to be careful, Dave. Murdoc is very fond of traps, and they are often lethal." Glancing back up the ditch, he continued, "Why don't Ellison and I grab our gear and follow the tracks, while you and your people start a grid search. That way if Sam and Blair are heading back to the road or cabin, you may find them quicker than we do."

  "As long as you two carry a radio," Connors replied. "I don't want to have to search for you, too."

  Friday noon, Uncompahgre National Forest, CO

  MacGyver was trailing Ellison as the sentinel followed the snow-covered tracks. Jim was as intent as a bloodhound on the scent, worry and anger driving him. Glancing to the northwest, Mac grimly studied the bank of clouds indicating a storm coming in. They had to reach Sam and Blair before the weather turned bad. While his sons were resourceful, Mac didn't think they had enough in their light packs to handle several days of winter camping, especially in the middle of a storm. Especially with Blair already sick. Mac forced back another wave of anger and fear. He might have gotten into this father business late, but he sure seemed to be catching up in the worry department.

  Suddenly, Jim stopped. Quickly snowshoeing over to his position, Mac asked, "What is it?"

  "Something smells burnt," Jim explained. He took another breath, trying to categorize the odor. "Wood, most likely pine."

  "A fire?"

  "Maybe. Let's check it out."

  As they carefully worked their way around a pile of boulders and a shallow ravine, the woods opened to a snow-covered road. Jim piggybacked his sight on his sense of smell, spotting the smoldering object. "Mac, can you think of any reason why a
tree would be burning up here?"

  Visions of Murdoc bursting into Pete's cabin with a flame thrower flashed across Mac's mind. "Oh, hell. Where?"

  "This way." The two men quickly snowshoed to the blackened tree. Jim surveyed the scene around them. "Looks like three separate tracks, two together and a single on snowshoes."

  "Sam and Blair, meeting Murdoc with a flame thrower," Mac grimly responded, studying the tree. He walked over to where a broken branch hung down, pulling off a note sealed in a plastic bag.

  "Looks like Blair's aim," Jim commented softly, fingering the broken branch and spotting a rock in the snow. He looked over Mac's shoulder at the note.

  Hunting Junior MacGyvers

  is a lot tougher than I thought.

  May require extreme measures

  before they are caught.

  Murdoc

  "Extreme measures? How extreme can Murdoc get?" Jim asked.

  "You don't want to know," Mac replied coldly, staring out into space. Jim could almost see the horrors flashing across Mac's eyes.

  Gently laying a hand on Mac's shoulder, Jim encouraged, "Their tracks lead this way, and Murdoc didn't follow. I'm sure neither of them are making good time breaking through this snow. We may still be able to catch up to them."

  They'll be even slower with Blair sick. Mac banished the memory of a feverish and coughing Blair hiking to the Ares Bugle installation. He turned to Jim, replying "Let's go."

  Friday afternoon, Uncompahgre National Forest, CO

  Blair dropped onto a rock, coughing and struggling to breathe. He glanced up as Sam joined him. Between the two of them and a little ingenuity, they had laid out three false and hopefully confusing trails for Murdoc to follow. For the past few hours, they had been making slow but steady progress down the mountain.

  Sam studied his brother with concern. The circles around Blair's eyes were growing darker within the paler face. Rest breaks were becoming more frequent. Yet Sam hadn't seen anything to indicate they were even close to civilization.

  Blair noticed Sam's worried face. "I'm all right. ~cough~ I just need to ~cough~ a minute."

  Yeah, right. Sam sighed. They were both exhausted, their jeans were encrusted with snow up to their thighs, they had eaten the last Snickers bars at breakfast, the water was nearly gone, and Blair was getting worse. Ellison was definitely going to kill him, if Murdoc didn't have the honor first.

  Blair's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Isn't that ~cough~ a tower down there?"

  Sam turned and looked. Sure enough, an old metal tower stood near what appeared to be a drop-off. "Okay, why don't I check it out while you wait here? Hopefully, I can see a cabin or something from there and the best way to reach it."

  "Okay," Blair replied breathlessly.

  The fact that Blair wasn't arguing that he should go too worried Sam even more. After giving Blair a quick pat on the shoulder, Sam carefully weaved around boulders, punching his way through the snow. The sky highlighted the need to find shelter soon. The storm coming in looked ominous.

  Concentrating on the sky, Sam didn't realize he had broken a fine white string just inches above the glittering snow. A loud explosion roared next to him. Sam barely had time to throw his arm over his head as the tower rushed towards him.

  Jim and Mac were studying one of the false paths when they heard the distant explosion. Fear filled Mac's eyes as the two older men turned towards the sound and started to race as fast as the snowshoes allowed.

  "SAM!" Blair shouted as he witnessed the blast at the base of the tower. He jumped up, fear punching him in the stomach as the tower crashed on Sam. Crashed on his brother. Shit. Exhaustion forgotten, Blair plowed through the snow as fear-driven adrenaline surged through his system. Sam had to be all right. He had to be.

  Finally reaching the wreckage, Blair cried out, "Sam! Sam, answer me!"

  A soft moan rose from under the metal beams, followed by a soft voice. "Blair?"

  "Are you all right?" A flashing red light near the base caught Blair's eye. Damn, Murdoc must have it set to signal when the trap was tripped.

  "Ye-ah, I th-think s-so" came the slow, teeth-chattering reply. "But I'm p-p-pinned d-d-down-n-n."

  Frantically searching, Blair spied a piece of support lying on a flat metal plate. Grabbing it, he quickly examined the wreckage, then shoved the newly designated lever under the main beam on top of Sam. Pausing as a coughing jag hit, Blair ordered, "Okay, when I count to three, I'll try to lift this piece off you. ~cough~ Do you think you can crawl out from under it?"

  "S-s-su-re."

  On 'three' Blair threw his weight onto his lever, lifting the wreckage about a foot. It was just enough for Sam to wiggle out.

  Allowing the twisted metal to slam back down, Blair knelt next to his shivering brother. Sam was now covered in snow and cradling his left arm.

  "What's wrong with your arm?" Blair softly questioned, brushing off snow and gently tilting Sam's head to get a better view of the raw scrape on his cheek.

  "I-I think it's b-broken," Sam forced out, gritting his teeth against the cold and pain.

  Damn. Blair tried to squelch his rising panic, only partly succeeding. Carefully pulling Sam's right arm away and pushing back the torn coat, it became obvious there was a reddening bump on the left arm that shouldn't be there. This was not good. Glancing around, Blair finally yanked off the scarf and gingerly slipped it under the arm. "I'd rather put a splint on this," Blair explained as he pulled it out and tied it around Sam's neck as a sling. Where have I heard that edge of panic before? "But we don't have the materials or the time." Oh yeah, in Jim's voice when I had been shot during the Quinn incident. Another glimpse of Sam's pain- and shock-filled face caused Blair to pull the younger man into an embrace. God, what if that tower had hit Sam's head instead of his arm? Forcing another wave of panic back, Blair rubbed his gloved hands up and down Sam's back under his pack, trying to both warm and comfort his brother. His brother. Sam had said he always wanted a big brother. It was about time he acted like one. "Okay, do you think you can walk?"

  Sam nodded against Blair's shoulder, soaking up the warm comfort for a moment more. "Yeah. Help me up." Blair stood and helped lift Sam out of the snow. However, once his full weight shifted to his right leg, Sam gasped and nearly lost his balance.

  "Damn," Blair muttered, kneeling again to check out the knee.

  "I think I just twisted it," Sam reassured him.

  "Yeah, but with Murdoc heading this way we have to get out of here quick," Blair explained, searching the area with his eyes.

  "You think he's nearby?" Sam asked, rubbing his hand over his upper arm.

  Blair absently explained about the signal as he walked through the snow to the large metal plate he had noticed earlier. "Even without the signal, Murdoc certainly heard the explosion." He pulled the plate off the ground, then jiggled the loosely attached rod on the end.

  "Great," Sam muttered. He felt so cold, tired, and achy, pain radiating out from his injured arm. He didn't think he could handle Murdoc at that moment.

  Blair whipped off his belt, then paused. "Damn, I don't have my knife!" He had never gotten it back after Kincaid had confiscated it. Another cough nearly bent him over.

  Sam struggled a moment to shove his gloved hand into his jeans pocket. "Here," he called, tossing Blair his own Swiss army knife once Blair's coughing had eased.

  Blair caught it and opened it while he knelt. Using the flat top of the bottle opener, he loosened a screw in the rod. Swiftly slipping the head through a hole in the belt, Blair tightened it down, then set to work on the other side.

  "What are you doing?" Sam asked, trying not to shiver.

  "I need a way to steer this sled."

  "Steer? Sled?" Sam repeated, staring at him. That didn't make any sense, did it? Had the tower hit him harder than he thought?

  "We are going for a little ride," Blair said tersely as he tightened down the second screw. He tilted his head towards the slope next to them. "Down there."


  Sam's eyes widened as he gazed downward. "What! Do you see how steep this thing is? And what about the bend at the bottom?"

  "That's why we need a way to steer."

  "Blair, we don't know what's around that bend!"

  Blair jumped up and slipped the knife into his pocket. "Would you rather..."

  "JUNIOR MACGYVERS!"

  Both Blair's and Sam's heads snapped up to see Murdoc on top of the hill. "Sledding it is," Sam conceded.

  Blair swiftly sat on the metal plate, Sam slipping on behind him. Pushing off with their feet, Blair jammed his boots against a metal bar at the front, while Sam tucked his longer legs next to Blair's. "Hang on!" Blair shouted.

  "No problem," Sam muttered, tightly wrapping his good arm around his brother's waist and cradling the broken one between their bodies. After one glance ahead as the 'sled' gained speed, Sam ducked his head into Blair's shoulder. He didn't want to see them crash.

  Murdoc reached the top of the slope just in time to see the young men slide around the bend. Shaking his head in amazement, he started to laugh.

  "Hold it!" Jim called out, stopping Mac with an outstretched arm.

  "What?" Mac said sharply, then more apologetic, "What is it?"

  Jim carefully knelt to look just above the snow. "There is a wire across here."

  Mac looked around. "Does it go to that pile of rocks next to us?"

  Jim followed the string with his eyes. It led to a small explosive device under a rock. "Yeah, looks like it is set to trigger those rocks to fall on or near whoever trips the wire."

  "Oh, man," Mac moaned. "How much you want to bet this was set up by Murdoc to catch Sam and Blair? And that something like this is what we heard?" Visions of finding his sons crushed by rocks sent more fear to curdle in his stomach.