COATLICUE

by Cindy Combs

  Sam looked around the storage room Blair called his office, then caught his father's eye. "This looks even worse than your place when you are working on a project."

  Mac glared at him playfully as he picked up a stack of folders from a chair. "Well, I doubt Blair has anything in here that could blow up."

  Jim gave him a startled glance, but decided he didn't want to pursue it. Sam snagged the chair in front of Blair's desk, and started shifting through the books and printouts Blair had left there.

  Jim handed Sam a cup of coffee. "I can't guarantee the last time Blair washed these cups."

  "Yesterday morning," Blair replied as he entered. His face lightened when he saw Mac. "Hi Mac! When did you get in?"

  "Couple hours ago," Mac replied, smiling wearily in greeting.

  Blair quietly studied him as he dropped off his notes and accepted a cup of coffee from Jim. Weariness darkened Mac's eyes, and lines deepened across his face. "Probably didn't sleep much on his marathon trip across an ocean and a continent," Blair thought silently to himself. He knew Naomi would probably do the same thing if he was in trouble, except that she was almost impossible to reach. Which often was a blessing in disguise, since Jim had never connected with her during his Golden OD, or his gunshot wound. Blair prayed Naomi would never hear about either of those misadventures, and understood Sam's reluctance in having Mac contacted. "Well, what have you guys been doing this morning?" He wasn't expecting the story Jim launched into.

  "....so, Simon has those two in interrogation, and promises he'll call me when he knows something," Jim finished.

  Blair noticed that in spite of the bad guys being in custody, Jim had not dropped his guard. "He still thinks Sam might be in danger," he thought. A glance at Mac seemed to indicate that he was of the same opinion as well. Sam, however, was relaxed and only half-listening as he read one of the books Blair had found. "So, until we know more, what's on the game plan?" Blair asked.

  Jim shrugged. "Figured we might as well work on Mrs. Farrell's puzzle." Blair again narrowed his eyes at Jim, realizing Jim thought the message might be tied in.

  "Well, I think Huitzi - what'sits sister, the moon goddess, might be a good candidate," Sam replied, reentering the conversation.

  Mac frowned a moment in thought. "You mean, Coyolxauhqui?" he asked, giving his son a puzzled glance.

  "So that is how you pronounce it," Sam stated thoughtfully. He smiled at his father. "Yes, Dad, I can do research. Though it helps when Blair leaves a bookmarker." Blair chuckled.

  "So, who is...?" Jim hinted.

  Blair chuckled again. "Coyolxauhqui. She is the sister who tried to murder Huitzilopochtli before he was born, and who he defeats every night so the sun can come up. The Aztecs believed that she was a very evil sorceress, who spoke to all the centipedes and spiders and other low-lifes."

  Jim leaned over Sam's shoulder to study the picture. "She doesn't look like much of a threat," he remarked. "She looks chopped up."

  "Oh, that is the relief of the defeated Coyolxauhqui uncovered when they accidentally found the Great Temple in 1978," Blair explained. "It was 11 feet in diameter, and was used to catch the sacrificed bodies after the priests cut out the heart in front of the Huitzilopochtli shrine."

  "Nice people," Jim commented dryly. "By relief, you mean like a carving or something raised on a flat surface, right?"

  "Right."

  Jim turned back to the book. "Why do you think she is it, Sam?"

  "I think I remember seeing a stone disc replica on the mantle in her cabin," Sam answered, trying to clarify the hazy memory in his mind.

  "The one near here?" Jim asked.

  "Yeah, the one she left me."

  "Sounds like we need to take a trip," Jim stated thoughtfully.

  Everyone nodded in agreement, then turned as one at a knock on the door. Blair chuckled nervously, glancing at Jim. Jim had focused briefly on the voices outside, then gave Blair a faint and reluctant nod. Blair opened the door.

  "Hi Mr. Sandburg, " Katie greeted him, hobbling in on crutches.

  "Hi Katie," Blair returned, then extended a greeting to her mother, who followed her in.

  Sam immediately stood up, and gave his almost sister a hug. "Sorry about the ankle, squirt," he whispered in her ear.

  "Not your fault," Katie whispered back. "Just glad they didn't get you."

  "Hi Maggie," Sam continued, as he held out the chair he had been sitting in for Katie.

  Ms. Jordan studied her former ward. "Well, you don't look too worse for wear."

  Sam smiled. "I'm fine," he said for the umpteenth time, giving her a hug.

  Ms. Jordan pulled back. "Did your FATHER show up?" she asked sarcastically. Blair shifted his stance as he debated on defending his weary friend, while Jim closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. Katie had already noticed the fourth man in the room, and rolled her eyes at her dense mother as she realized his identity.

  Mac took a deep breath, walked over, and extended his hand. "Hello, Ms. Jordan. I'm MacGyver, Sam's father."

  Sam smiled slyly as Maggie, for once in her life, was left speechless at the sudden appearance of Sam's attractive father.

  When Katie realized her mom wasn't responding, she smiled winningly at Mac and extended her hand. "Hello, I'm Katie Donnelly. Sean's told me a lot about you."

  Mac returned her smile, and took her hand. "He has told me about you too, Katie. I hope that cast won't make things too awkward for you during your first semester."

  Katie shook her head. "No, I've already had a few offers to help me," she said with a mischievous grin.

  Before Sam could enter big brother mode and ask who, Ms. Jordan found her voice. "Speaking of which, I want to escort her to her French class." She turned to Ellison. "Detective, I understand you caught the creeps who hurt my daughter?"

  "Yes, ma'am," Jim responded politely.

  "Good, then this is over." Ms Jordan turned to Sam. "Call me more often."

  As Sam replied, "Yes, Maggie," she turned and ushered her daughter out the door.

  Across town, a man paced back and forth, speaking excitedly in a Spanish accent. "What do you mean they did not get the boy! How hard is it to get one, single, unarmed young man?"

  "He seems to be a well-protected young man." The tall man quietly standing in front of him commented.

  "Did you get the pictures of these 'protectors'?"

  "Yes, and two have been identified." The tall man spread out the pictures he had taken that morning. "This one is Blair Sandburg. He is a teaching fellow in anthropology. I suspect it was he that young Malloy came to see."

  "Anthropology! I want an eye on him as well."

  "Already taken care of, though it may get interesting. He also works as a police observer with this man, a Detective James Ellison. Ellison is well-known for being one of the city's best police detectives. He was the one who captured Hanks and Edguardo this morning."

  The short man swore in Spanish. "Why is he involved? Because of the anthropologist?"

  "Most likely, since the men not only work together, but Sandburg rents a room from Ellison."

  Suddenly, the short man pulled out one of the pictures and stared at it. The tall man commented. "He is a new player, who just showed up this morning. I haven't identified him yet."

  "Well I can identify him, and he is trouble! That is MacGyver, former DXS agent, troubleshooter for Phoenix, amateur archeologist, and all around pain in the rear! What is he doing here? Is he associated with the anthropologist?"

  "Apparently he is associated with young Malloy," the tall man replied hesitantly, pulling out a picture of MacGyver hugging Malloy.

  The short man paused, staring at the picture, then pulling out two more pictures of full-face views of MacGyver and Malloy. "Damn it, they are related!" he roared.

  "What do you wish to do now?" the tall man asked quietly.

  The short man resumed his vicious pacing. After a few tense moments, he decided, "Follow them for now. Let MacGyver hel
p Malloy find the Farrell treasury. Then we can take it from them."

  Outskirts of Cascade

  Quietly from the back seat of the rented Jeep Cherokee, Blair and Sam gently draped a blanket over the sleeping MacGyver in the front seat. Jim glanced over from the driver's seat to check their progress. They had barely traveled a block from the loft before Mac had nodded off.

  Sam gave his father another worried look, and sat back down. "Man, I hate doing this to him."

  Blair finished clicking his seatbelt closed. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I hate worrying my Mom, too. And she doesn't even know the half of it."

  Sam chuckled. "Your police work gets a little dangerous?"

  Blair snorted. "A lot, sometimes. I just don't tell her. The one time Naomi realized I might be in a little bit of danger, she just about tore Jim and Simon into pieces. "

  Sam sighed. "Must be nice, having your Mom around to worry."

  "What happened?" Blair asked, then realized that wasn't very tactful. "I mean, if you don't mind talking about it."

  "She was killed by the Chinese army when I was nine. The Donnellys took me in after I had hiked back to Beijing."

  Jim, who had been listening, glanced into the rearview mirror in concern, which Blair voiced. "Hiked back? You mean through Communist China?"

  "Yep." A small twinkle slipped into the somber eyes when Sam turned to Blair, "Actually, that was Dad's reaction when I told him."

  "I can imagine, " Jim thought silently, wondering how a grief-stricken, white American kid managed to travel through China on his own, and how he would feel if it was his son.

  "Why didn't you contact Mac when you got back to the States?" Blair asked.

  "Mom never told me his name. All I had was a locket with her picture and my father's in it. It wasn't much to go on, and the Donnellys weren't very helpful. They always figured there was something wrong with him, so they discouraged me from trying. It was pure chance I ran into him."

  Blair's eyes turned introspective. "At least you had more to go on than I do," he commented quietly.

  Sam's eyes narrowed in puzzlement. "What do you mean?"

  Blair shrugged his shoulders, debating on whether to continue. When Sam leaned over to catch his eye, Blair realized here was one person who might understand. "All Naomi will tell me is that there is a list of candidates," he replied, turning his face towards the window for a moment. "Not exactly encouraging," he barely breathed.

  Sam reached over, and squeezed his shoulder. "No man, not at all." They sat a moment in silence.

  Jim glanced at Blair this time, his dishearten whisper cutting through him. He had suspected Blair wasn't as cavalier about his paternity as he pretended. Glancing ahead, he noticed the sign for the turnoff. "Hey, do one of you guys have the map?" he called softly.

  Blair unzipped his backpack. "It is in here somewhere."

  "Sam, do you know how to read a map?" Stupid question for a guy who navigated China at nine, Jim realized.

  "I've got it Jim," Blair replied as he pulled out the map and tried to figure out where they were.

  "Sandburg, which way is north?"

  Blair silently glared at him, then handed Sam the map.

  Thump! MacGyver's eyes sprang open. Within a second, he realized he was in a northwestern rain forest, he was sitting in a jeep with a blanket over him, and there was a cabin barely visible in the trees to his left. He must have slept the entire way to Sam's new cabin. The bantering voices of Sam and Blair drifted from up ahead, and Ellison was nearby talking softly, probably on his cell phone. Sitting up and stretching, Mac searched until he spotted the top of Sam's head and Blair's checked thermal shirt through the bushes.

  "How you doing?" Ellison poked his head through the driver's side window.

  "Okay," Mac replied, trying not to yawn. "I just don't seem to bounce back from these trips like I used to."

  "London to Cascade in less than a day is a long haul for anyone," Jim pointed out as he opened the door.

  "Yeah," Mac admitted, tracking the two younger men as they reached the cabin. "But worth it."

  Jim glanced in the direction Mac was staring, easily spotting Sam and Blair carrying supplies into the cabin. "Simon hasn't had any luck in interrogating the two men from this morning. I've already checked the cabin and the surrounding area, and found nothing."

  "Thanks," Mac responded gratefully. "I have a feeling this thing isn't over."

  "So do I." The two men exchanged glances. Jim continued, "At the hospital, Mr. Thornton asked Sam if he thought this had something to do with Murdoc. Sam said no."

  With his focus on Mac, Jim saw the older man tense at the name, but then shook his head. "No, this isn't Murdoc. Murdoc is more elaborate, and works alone."

  "Who is Murdoc?"

  Mac sighed. "Seventeen years ago, an international hit man decided to take out a DXS agent by making the cab I was driving a trap. I wasn't thrilled with the situation, so I managed to get the agent and myself out before the cab blew up. That led to a job offer with the DXS and my friendship with Pete. It also made Pete and I the only blemishes on Murdoc's perfect assassination record. He has tried several elaborate schemes to kill me, often endangering my friends. He even used Penny once." Mac paused, while Jim briefly thought of the sweet woman who had helped them with Harding. She had even sent Jim flowers and a humorous card while he was in the hospital, though she didn't really know him. "Ever since finding Sam, I've been worried that Murdoc will go after him. It was my first thought when I got the message."

  "Where is he now?"

  "Oh, he is presumed dead." At Jim's startled glance, Mac explained with unaccustomed bitterness, "Murdoc has been declared dead so many times, only to come after me again, I won't believe it until I see his lifeless body lowered into the ground. And even then I'll probably want to check his pulse." On that note, Mac opened the door, and climbed out of the truck.

  "This is nice," Blair complimented as he sat the box on a sturdy table. He looked around the main room of the cabin, checking out the large fireplace on one end, the comfortable upholstered furniture, oak tables, and handmade throw rugs. The roof vaulted up two stories, the doors to two bedrooms visible in the loft above. He noted the replica of Coyolxauhqui sitting on the mantle, just as Sam had remembered. Walking over, Blair picked it up. Then he chuckled.

  "What's so funny?" Sam asked as he returned from the kitchen.

  "Me, man," Blair replied. He replaced the disc back on the mantle. "As if I honestly expected to find a piece of paper under it."

  "Hey, I did the same thing, too." Sam admitted with a shy smile. "I even saw Jim pick it up."

  "So that's three out of four," Blair drawled, his smile growing. "Wonder what Mac will do." He traded mischievous looks with Sam, then walked back to unload the box when he heard Mac and Jim on the steps.

  Mac and Jim entered, carrying the last of the gear from the truck. "Hey, you two, stop stalling and make yourselves useful." Jim tossed his duffel bag to Blair, while Sam relieved this father of his backpack and sleeping bag. As the younger men climbed the stairs, Mac surveyed the cabin. "You have a nice place here, Sam," he commented as he wandered towards the fireplace. "Thanks, Dad," Sam returned from the top of the stairs. He and Blair paused, watching as Mac picked up Coyolxauhqui from the mantle to study. Blair gave Sam a high five, then continued to the bedroom chuckling.

  A few hours later, Sam was becoming discouraged. He and Blair had searched the mantle and fireplace, while his father and Ellison studied the various pieces from the mantle. He sat back and massaged his fingers, which were sore from pushing bricks in an attempt to find a hidden door. "Why do I feel like I have sent all of us on a wild goose chase?" he commented with a sigh.

  "Don't know," Blair replied, pulling back from inside the fireplace, brushing off the gray ash. "I don't. This is the only other thing your Mrs. Farrell left to you. The clues are probably here. We just haven't found them yet."

  "We just have to keep trying," Mac added e
ncouragingly, gently setting down the Pueblo pottery bowl he had been studying.

  Sam sighed again. Jim stood up and stretched. "Why don't we take a break?"

  "Good idea," Blair agreed. "If you let your mind relax, Sam, you'll think of something."

  Sam shook his head. "You sound awfully sure about that."

  "I am. Mrs. Farrell would have set this up for YOU to figure out. You just have to remember what she wanted you to remember."

  Sam gave Blair a doubtful look. Jim chuckled, "Believe it or not, Blair's cryptic advice often helps. Just relax and give it a chance." At that moment, Jim's cell phone rang. "Hello? Hi Simon, what do you have for me?" Jim quietly listened as he strolled to the kitchen for privacy.

  Then Mac's phone rang. Flipping it open, Mac answered, "Hello? Oh, hi Pete..." Mac wandered out to the deck to talk with his friend.

  Blair smiled at Sam, "Guess it is a good thing we decided to take a break." Sam chuckled deeply in response, as Blair stood up and brushed off his clothes again. "I think I need to change."

  Sam chuckled again, as he stretched out on the couch. Cradling his sore arm against his chest, he remembered how dirty he would get on some of the projects for Mrs. Farrell. Memories of crawling under the house, looking for a stinky dead mouse came to mind. When he had clipped her jungle of bushes one fall day, he had so many leaves on and in his clothes, he thought he'd be itching for life. Then his thoughts wandered to how she was always having him hang pictures and souvenirs in the oddest places. 'Why hang it here?' he had asked once, nailing a prayer circle high in a corner. 'I want to be able to gaze at it while sitting in my reading chair,' she replied. Sure enough, when Sam sat in the chair later, he did have a nice view of the prayer circle. Suddenly, Sam's eyes shot open. No, it couldn't be that easy. Barely moving his head, Sam discovered a framed close-up of the moon from one of the Apollo missions. "Oh, man," Sam softly swore.

  "What?" Blair asked, as he walked over, pulling on a clean flannel shirt. Sam pointed. Blair craned his neck, and spotted the picture on the side of the rafter. "Well, Coyolxauhqui was the moon goddess," Blair commented.