Heirs to a Nightmare

by Cindy Combs

  Early Friday morning, Phoenix Foundation mail room, CA

  Nodding to the music in his headset, a boy in his late teens sorted out the incoming mail. Barry enjoyed his job with its late hours and quiet atmosphere. There was no one to bug him except Carrie, and she was in the front room typing labels.

  At the bottom of the bag, Barry felt a package and pulled it out. He glanced at the plain brown wrapper, noted the name on the label, and was about to toss it on the table. Suddenly, a flash of memory from his orientation meeting crossed his mind. Pulling back the package, Barry examined it more closely. Addressed to 'Mr. MacGyver' and postmarked Denver, CO, it had no return address. Feeling a sudden rush of adrenaline surge through his system, Barry took off his earphones and held the package closer. It was ticking.

  With slow, deliberate caution, Barry gingerly placed the package on the work table, then carefully stepped back towards the door. Once through, he screamed, "CARRIE!"

  A couple of hours later, Phoenix director Peter Thornton walked into the mail room with his assistant. "Willus, do you have any idea what time it is? What is going on that can't wait for a couple hours?"

  "Sorry for getting you out of bed, Mr. Thornton," Willus, a scientist for Phoenix, apologized as he turned to his boss. "They called me when they couldn't get a hold of MacGyver. I thought you might know how to reach him."

  "Yes, I know where he went and can probably track him down. Why do we need to?"

  Willus sighed. "At first, we thought that someone may have sent him a bomb."

  "A bomb!" Pete's tired eyes flew open, sleep now a distant memory.

  "That's what they thought at first, sir. The bomb squad has since looked it over and found that it was just set up to look like a bomb."

  Pete was now confused. "Why would someone make it just look like a bomb?"

  Willus sighed. "Well, sir, I think they wanted to make sure we noticed it. Or I should say Murdoc did."

  "Murdoc!" Pete exclaimed. This situation was getting worse all the time. "What did Murdoc send?"

  "A bunch of pictures and a note." Willus shifted on his feet, hating to break the news to Thornton and praying he wouldn't have to break it to Mac as well. He knew how the name Murdoc seemed to shake his normally unshakable co-workers. "The pictures are of two men approximately in their twenties. One appears to be Sam."

  Oh please God, not Sam. "What does the note say?"

  Willus read the note which to him was a cryptic riddle, but which sent Pete's heart pounding in fear. The pieces were falling into place to form a horrific picture. Pete closed his eyes and asked, "Willus, what does the second young man look like? Does he have curly brown hair and blue eyes?"

  Puzzled, Willus glanced back at the photos. "They are black and white, so I can't tell hair or eye color, but he definitely has dark curly hair and is rather slim. In this shot he is wearing glasses in what looks like a University setting. Comparing him to this street sign, I'm guessing he's well under 6 foot in height. We can have them analyzed to determine exactly."

  Pete turned to the direction of Willus' voice. "That won't be necessary. Contact Jack Dalton and tell him to get here immediately. I want him to look at the pictures and see if he can identify the second young man as Blair Sandburg."

  "Who is Blair Sandburg?" Willus asked in confusion.

  "I'll explain later. Just make the call and meet me in Mac's office. We have to reach him as soon as possible."

  Friday, predawn, Uncompahgre National Forest, CO

  Slowly, painfully, Blair became aware of his surroundings. The hard ground under him and the smell of wood smoke brought home that he wasn't in the loft, hadn't dreamed the previous day's events. That meant he and Sam were lost in a mountain forest being chased by a psycho. That meant that MacGyver could very well be his father.

  Blair shut his eyes tighter. How could that be? Mom has never once mentioned anyone like Mac being on the list. Okay, so I haven't mentioned MacGyver to her either, not wanting to explain the circumstances of how we met. However, I don't remember seeing Mac in any of her photo albums. Why didn't she tell me about him?

  Blair slowly sat up, anger beginning to grow. Why didn't Mac say something? If he did suspect, why not just ask? Ask about Mom? Say anything? Maybe they could have done blood tests, or maybe Jim could have determined something with his senses. Wait a minute. A conversation from nearly two months ago crossed his mind.

  "Hey Chief, I've noticed something. Something about my sense of smell."

  "Really? Like what? For how long?"

  "Not long. You know how everyone has their own scent?"

  "Yeah? Is this a crack about using the spray again?"

  "No, not that. It's just that I've noticed that the scents of people closely related are similar. You know, like Simon and Daryl."

  "Really? It is probably something genetic then. Have you noticed this with anyone else?"

  "Well, now that you men..."

  ~Ring~

  "Damn, Jim, that's mine, I'm waiting for a call...."

  Oh hell, even Jim knows! Blair jumped up and started to pace furiously, ignoring the protest from his ribs. Damn it, how long was everyone going to play dumb little Blair along, poor sucker that he is. Don't they think I have the right to know? Doesn't MacGyver want me to know?

  In a flash of rage, Blair kicked a piece of wood on the floor. The twisting motion sent a flash of pain through his already aching ribs. As Blair leaned over in agony, another coughing fit rose from his chest.

  "Blair?"

  Seeing Sam standing there, arms full of wood and eyes round with worry, cooled Blair's temper. Leaning against the wall, Blair finally got the coughing and pain under control.

  "Blair, are you all right?"

  "No," Blair admitted. Straightening, he stared at the wall in front of him. "Why didn't someone tell me, Sam? Why didn't Jim tell me?"

  Brow wrinkled in puzzlement, Sam asked, "Does Jim know?"

  "Yeah," Blair replied, his finger following the grain of the wood. "I just realized that about two months ago, Jim was trying to tell me but we were interrupted."

  Sam shrugged. "Well, you did give him a good scare after that. Jim was still pretty worried about you just yesterday. Told me he didn't know what he'd do if he lost you."

  Blair shrugged, knowing that his sentinel was rather protective of him. Mind still racing, he coughed again, then commented, "God, Sam, you know how weird this is? Do you have any idea how envious I was of you?"

  "Envious?"

  "Yeah. ~cough~ You had not only found your dad, but you have such a cool one, too. Anyone can tell how much Mac loves you. ~cough, cough~ Now all of a sudden, I've gone from watching with my nose pressed against the window ~cough~ to being inside the store wondering when someone's going to kick me out." ~cough, cough~

  "No one is going to kick you out, Blair." Sam sighed, handing Blair a bottle of water. "Besides, that just makes us even."

  Blair turned around, coughing. "Even?"

  Sam gave him a lopsided smile. "You have any idea how envious I've been of you about Jim? I've always wanted a big brother, and Jim definitely acts like your brother."

  Blair began to smile, "Yeah, he is pretty great. Oh man!"

  "What?"

  "I was suppose to call Jim once we got to the cabin."

  The young men traded looks. "Do you think he'll get worried?" Sam asked. Blair lifted his eyebrows. "Oh yeah, I forgot we're talking about your Mother Hen from Hell."

  "Exactly. My bet is that if he hasn't heard from me by 7 this morning, he'll try calling us. ~cough~ If he can't reach us, he'll find someone to check on us. If they can't find us, he'll buy the first ticket out here."

  "Do you have your cell phone?"

  "No, it's in my suitcase back in the jeep, or what's left of it."

  "Oh, man," Sam moaned. "I just thought of something else. You can bet that with Murdoc after us, he's going to taunt Dad with it."

  They traded looks again. "We had better find some way
back to civilization and out of this mess ~cough, cough~ before Mac runs into a trap Murdoc set for him," Blair commented, thinking hard.

  "Are you sure you are up to it?" Sam didn't like Blair's resurgent cough.

  "Yeah, just give me another cough drop. Besides, if I stay in one place, it is more likely Murdoc will catch me. I've had more than enough of being used against Mac or Jim to last a lifetime."

  Friday morning, Taggart's apartment

  ~Bbbring~

  Barely out of the shower, Joel Taggart reached for the phone next to his bed. "Hello?" he answered with dread. If the department was calling him this early, it was usually because they had a situation.

  A nervous, shaky voice replied, "Hello, I'm sorry for calling so early, but I need to reach my friend MacGyver. Do you know where he is?"

  Joel blinked a couple of times. "Yeah. Who is this?"

  "My name's Willus. Believe me, this is really important."

  "Hang on a moment." Joel padded barefoot to his guestroom. "Hey Mac, you awake?"

  "Yeah," Mac answered with a yawn. "What's up?"

  "Some guy named Willus on the phone for you. Says it's important."

  "Willus?" Mac repeated, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Puzzled as to why Willus would be calling him at Joel's, Mac grabbed the phone. "Willus? How did you know I was here?"

  Joel was about to leave and give Mac some privacy, when he saw all the color drain from Mac's face.

  Friday morning, Ellison's loft

  Quietly, Ellison buttered his toast, glancing again at the phone. It lay silent. Blair had taken his cell phone, promising to call him when they got to the cabin. With everything that had gone on the night before, Jim hadn't missed the call until he went to bed, frustrated that Naomi had still not left Blair's bedroom. By that time, it was too late to call Colorado. Of course, Sam hadn't been certain if the cabin would be within range of a tower. Surely that must be it. Or Blair, excited to have arrived and exhausted from a long trip, had simply forgotten.

  However, the feeling of approaching disaster still had not left. Jim glanced at the clock. Surely they must be up by now. Maybe. He began reaching for the phone when Naomi emerged from the bedroom.

  Wrapped in Blair's robe, she quietly glided over to the table. Sitting across from Jim, she remained silent. Jim studied her a moment. New, faint lines graced her eyes, making her seem much older than normal. Gently Jim asked, "Would you like some tea?"

  Naomi looked up and nodded. When Jim returned with the tea, she took the mug, set it on the table, then looked straight into Jim's eyes. "Jim, there are several empty prescription bottles on Blair's dresser. Blair hates drugs, so just how sick is he?"

  Jim sighed. He hated walking the fine line between loyalty to Blair and not lying to Naomi. "A few weeks ago, Blair was hit hard by a new strain of flu going around. It developed into a very stubborn case of bronchitis. He's had to take several different antibiotics until finally they found one that worked."

  "I knew that cough sounded bad," Naomi replied worriedly. "Are you sure this trip to Colorado was a good idea?"

  "He was getting pretty tired of being stuck at home. You know how Blair is. A friend invited him to his grandfather's cabin and Blair jumped at the chance. But Sam knows how sick Blair's been, so they don't plan to do anything too taxing. It is just to give Blair a quiet place to recover." Jim glanced back at the phone, wishing it would ring.

  Naomi blew the steam off the top of her cup, thinking hard. Again, she looked into Jim's eyes. "You knew about Mac thinking he's Blair's father."

  Jim nodded. "Yes."

  "Does Blair know?"

  "No. I didn't feel it was my place and Mac wanted to talk with you first."

  Naomi shook her head. "I don't understand, Jim. What makes you think it's Mac? Blair doesn't look like him."

  "Who do you think Blair looks like?" Jim asked, curious.

  Naomi gave a faint smile. "That is the problem. Blair looks like my family with the dark hair and small build. I could never really pin down anything to one of the other candidates."

  Well, they certainly smell like each other. "You said last night you thought Mac was one of the better possibilities. What happened?"

  Naomi sighed, stirring her tea. "I was staying along the Gulf Coast, helping to plan protests around the various military installations in the area. I was still in my teens, but was deep into the movement by then. Then one evening, I met this college guy from Minnesota on the beach. There was such an instant ... inferno... between us. I fell hard. He was so sweet and cute and smart. We were constantly together for two whole days, totally forgetting the outside world. It was glorious.

  "But then I found out how closed minded he was, rejecting things I deeply believed in. He couldn't see how great my hero Timothy Leary was and looked down on his, and my, lifestyle. He wouldn't join in with my friends and even had the nerve to say Timothy wanted me for something other than promoting his causes. I couldn't believe how much of a square he was.

  "Of course, the final straw was his unenlightened views about the war. He couldn't SEE how wrong the government was and was hypocritical enough to go along instead of fight. Fighting against the war was my life's mission at that point. I'd dropped out of school and had left my family for what I believed. I couldn't understand why he wouldn't do the same. It infuriated me that he would even think of going along with the draft. What was worse, he didn't even stick around so I could convince him otherwise. He left the next morning, choosing school and the government over me and my cause. I was crushed. I felt so alone and empty with him gone, I found myself taking comfort from my various friends. I was just so damn young at the time. Later, I just wasn't sure who had fathered Blair. I was still so mad at Mac, I didn't want it to be him.

  "Then a few years later, I ran into Mac when I was protesting. Not only was that a shock, but I also ended up getting arrested. I spent the entire night in a cell, scared to death. Not because I had been arrested, but because the girl I left Blair with had also been arrested and the police had handed him over to Social Services. Being a single, unwed mother, I was afraid I'd lose him. Nor did I trust my family or friends enough to look after him. So, when the judge was lenient towards me because I was a mother, I was a little more careful in the protests I got involved with. Blair was so precious to me, I didn't want to take that kind of chance again.

  "However, running into Mac made me wonder if maybe he could be Blair's father. I kept watching the lists and a few months later saw that Albert MacGyver had been killed in action. I knew it was him. It's not like MacGyver is that common of a name. I mourned for him and continued fighting against the war that killed him. Yet, I was still mad at Mac for going, so I didn't tell Blair about him. I wanted Blair to have my values, not anybody else's. Blair is so impressionable. I couldn't take the chance of him looking up to a dead soldier and perhaps glorifying a war I hated."

  Jim remained silent. As a former soldier himself, he wasn't sure what kind of defense he could muster. However, he had a hard time seeing his peace-loving friend ever glorifying war, even if he was impressionable. One guess as to which parent he inherited that trait from.

  "Besides, Blair is so different from Mac. There is no way it could be him."

  Noticing the slight hesitation in her voice, Jim gently explained, "They are actually quite a bit alike. Did you know one of Mac's minors in college was archaeology?"

  Naomi looked at him in surprise. "Mac is interested in archaeology? But that's similar..." Her voice trailed off as she immediately returned her gaze to her mug.

  "Yes, it's similar to anthropology. Mac still does a lot of amateur work in the field. He and Blair have gotten into some good in depth discussions."

  "That's still not much." Naomi was back to studying her tea.

  "Did you know Mac always carries a Swiss army knife? That Mac has a fear of heights?"

  "So do a lot of people." Naomi took a deep breath, then launched her biggest defense. "But Blair is a p
acifist. He doesn't like guns."

  "Neither does Mac. I'd be surprised if Mac has shot one since returning from Nam. Even over there, being in demolitions probably meant he could avoid guns when possible."

  Naomi raised her head. "Demolitions?"

  Jim smiled. "Yes. MacGyver is still considered quite an expert. He is often called in to consult on complicated arson and bombing cases. He also teaches advanced defusing techniques for police bomb squad personnel. In fact, he taught the class Taggart took. That's how Blair and I met him, through Joel."

  Face wrinkled in concentration, Naomi stated, "That is still a violent way to live."

  Jim took a deep breath, remembering Naomi didn't know many of the things her son had done in the past two years. "That is just part of what Mac does. He's employed by the Phoenix Foundation. He's even tried recruiting Blair for them."

  "Phoenix Foundation?" Naomi questioned, frowning as she placed the name. "That's that think tank that does a lot of environmental work."

  "That's right. Mac has been involved in many of their studies and recommendations. He has also been heavily involved in their human rights causes. Mac does fight for what he believes in. He just has a quieter approach."

  Naomi pushed her cup away. "But Jim, why does any of that matter? Why are you so sure Mac is such a great guy for Blair to know?"

  Jim paused, choosing his next words with care. "Naomi, you raised a good son. Blair is a highly intelligent, brave, and compassionate young man. With the energy and drive he has inherited from you, he wants to be out in the world, not stuck in an academic ivory tower. Yet the real world is hard on young men like Blair. I try to protect him from the worst bits, but he still gets hit sometimes. Since my background and personality are different from Blair's, I can't always reach him. Yet Mac is very similar to Blair and has dealt with a lot of the issues Blair is dealing with now. The two of them have long discussions on things Blair and I can't always discuss, leaving Blair the better for it. But that kind of relationship is built on trust. How can Mac help Blair if he is always wondering if Blair is his son? How can Blair trust Mac if there is that kind of secret being withheld from him? Doesn't Blair deserve to know the truth?"