COATLICUE Page 5

  "Rodger Farrell found a beautiful collection of jade figurines from a dig site in my home district. He had needed money for the dig, and I gave it to him in return for a portion of the artifacts. I wanted the figurines. However, Farrell double-crossed me and brought them back to the States. Before I could force him to give them to me, he died of a heart attack. His widow has finagled and stonewalled me ever since. I wasn't even sure if she knew where they were. With that infuriating woman finally gone, I want what should have been mine a long time ago!"

  "Like I said, we have not found any collection."

  "Fool! If you do not tell me where the figurines are, I will shoot Mr. MacGyver right before your eyes!"

  Suddenly, a sharp point dug into Cruz's back. "If you shoot my Dad, I will skewer you with this stick," explained a cold voice behind him.

  Cold metal was laid against his neck. "And if the stake doesn't kill you, Mr. Dracula, I will finish the job with this crowbar, " an equally cold voice added.

  Jim watched as the confident man realized he was trapped. The hand holding the gun dropped, and the arm loosened, allowing Mac to pull away. Jim approached as Blair took the gun away from Cruz. The faint whine of sirens were barely touching Jim's ears as he pulled Cruz's arms behind his back, and cuffed him with his handcuffs.

  "Thank you, Mr. Sandburg. I will contact you later if we need anything more."

  Blair politely assured his continued cooperation as the deputy walked back to his fellow officers, easing Cruz and his men into the county cruisers. Glancing around, he noticed that Sam, Mac, and Jim were still giving their statements. Blair tried not to smile when he realized that Jim was giving his to Sheriff Tennison. Then he noticed Simon's car pull up behind the cruisers. Simon stepped out, then walked around to help Pete Thornton on the passenger's side. Quickly deciding that Simon could find them, Blair turned back towards his partner, and decided he'd better give him some support.

  "Never thought to wait for us, did you?" Tennison scolded Jim.

  "We didn't know if Sandburg and Malloy were in danger," Jim explained, trying to keep both his patience and temper.

  "And who is Malloy again?"

  "MacGyver's son, and the new owner of this cabin." Jim's jaw clenched tighter.

  "Right. Be easier if they had the same last name."

  Seeing Jim's control over his temper fraying, Blair gently touched his arm, "Simon is here." As Sam and Mac finished their statements, they also wandered over to Jim, wondering if there was a problem.

  "Oh great," the sheriff responded in disgust. "Now all the city boys are here." He studied Blair a moment, noting the scraped cheek and the torn, dirty jeans. "Do I need to call in ANOTHER rescue helicopter?"

  Blair gave him a tight smile. "Thank you, but I think I'll live without one this time." Sam, bemused, glanced at Blair, but decided to wait for a less tense moment to ask.

  Tennison shook his head, "Why can't you boys cause trouble in someone ELSE'S district for a change?" He stormed off, pointedly ignoring Banks as he passed him.

  Simon followed his progress down the hill, then looked at Jim and Blair. "More trouble from our favorite sheriff?"

  Jim stared stone-faced after the county official. "He's upset because we didn't wait for backup."

  Simon snorted, "When do you wait for backup?"

  "Hi Pete," Mac greeted his friend, watching the sheriff and the rest of the deputies leave.

  "Well, MacGyver, sounds like you got yourself into another tight spot," Pete stated with a smile. It seemed to him that Mac's life was a series of tight spots.

  "Yeah, but I had help this time," Mac replied, draping an arm around Sam's neck, and smiling at Blair.

  "So I heard. No luck in finding these figurines Cruz was after?"

  "Mac and I don't know," Jim stated slowly, grilling the younger two men with his eyes. Sam looked sheepishly away, while Blair gave him an impish grin.

  "What did you two find, before being interrupted?" Mac inquired, trying not to smile. He understood well how the thrill of discovery could block out more practical considerations.

  "Oh, the quarter moon," Blair replied cagily.

  "And the rabbit, " Sam added.

  "And the rabbit's hole," Blair continued in disgust, gesturing towards his jeans.

  "Huh?" Simon interrupted, face twisted in confusion.

  "Mrs. Farrell left a map," Jim explained, "Apparently, Blair and Sam found the starting point and were following clues without letting the rest of us know." He gave Blair another playful glare.

  "And Blair must have found the rabbit's hole by falling into it," Mac added for Pete's benefit. "That is where you guys were hiding when Cruz was looking for you, right?"

  "Right," Blair confirmed.

  "Plus, we found the last two symbols in the hole," Sam inserted, still trying to gage if Jim was really mad at them. "You want to take a look?"

  Mac's excitement shone in his eyes and quiet smile. "Let's go."

  Blair quickly updated everyone while Sam ran for flashlights. Soon, Sam, Blair, Jim, and Mac were in the hole, with Simon and Pete waiting just outside.

  "Okay, there is the oval. What do we do now?" Sam asked.

  "I'd guess we push the rock, and see what happens," Mac suggested with a smile.

  "You do the honors, Sam. Mrs. Farrell left it for you," Jim suggested.

  Sam smiled, then pushed on the rock. A huge section of rock swung inward, creating a high pitched screech that nearly brought Jim to his knees. Blair covertly held him up by his elbow, while aiming his flashlight at the opening. "You okay?" he asked in a whisper.

  "Yeah, just give me a minute," Jim whispered back.

  "Wow," Sam breathed, taking a step inside.

  "What do you see?" Pete asked from above.

  "It's an opening Pete," Mac called back as he followed Sam in, "about six foot high, and four feet across. Leads into a small room."

  "A small room with ten jade figurines on a stand," Blair added.

  Sam picked up one of the statues. "I don't even need an anthropology degree to tell that these are awesome."

  Mac knelt down by the stand, picking a notebook off a small stack on the end. "This looks like Farrell's dig notes."

  Blair picked up another one. "Yeah, they are. I'll bet he has finding these guys all documented in here."

  Jim studied the figurines from the door, admiring the craftsmanship of the ancient Aztecs. "What are you going to do with them now, Sam?"

  Sam quietly contemplated the jade figure of Coatlicue he was holding in his hand. Then he glanced over to his father. "Dad, do you think the Mexican government would want these back?"

  "Oh, I think I can make arrangements," Mac replied.

  Sam ran a finger over the smoothness of the stone. "Good. I suspect these guys have been away from home long enough."

  "Hey, can I at least get a look before you send them back?" Simon grumped from above.

  Everyone laughed as Jim made room for Simon to join them.

  Next day, Cascade Airport

  Children ran past them squealing in play, forcing Jim to tune down his hearing as they accompanied MacGyver to catch his flight. He glanced ahead, watching Mac continue to describe the dig site he would visit to Blair. While Jim had caught most of his earlier explanation, the discussion was starting to get deep, so Jim didn't mind missing the rest. He could still see the eager interest on Blair's face, and the pleasure Mac was taking in Blair's interest. Jim smiled. It was good for Blair to have another scientist to talk to, especially someone as experienced and practical as MacGyver. Jim's mind drifted to the conversation he had overheard that morning at the cabin.

  "...Then he grabbed my arm with his bloody hand. Oh man, Mac, I was petrified! Just the way Encacha looked at me, like he was drilling his departing soul into mine." Blair's voice shook in memory. Jim, just about to enter the bathroom, had paused. The memory of Encacha's recent death was still very painful for him. He had forgotten the terror he'd seen on Blair's face at t
hat moment, nor had they talked about it. Too many other things had happen in too short of time. Again, Blair's cracking voice drifted to him, "...Encacha entrusted me with being Jim's Shaman. Honest, Mac, the responsibility scares me. I haven't the vaguest idea what I'm suppose to do."

  Jim turned towards the deck to find and reassure his friend, when he heard Mac's thoughtful reply. "I don't think Encacha necessarily gave you new duties, Blair. He was probably just giving you his blessing."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, when you saved Ellison from the garbage truck, you went from being a student of Sentinel theory, to a guide practicing that theory. Call it a field promotion. Thus, for the past couple years, you have been performing as a Shaman guide to Jim, you just didn't have the official title. So along comes Encacha. From what you said, he recognized early on that you had stepped into that role. So, as his last duty as Shaman, he gave you his blessing. Kinda like the military confirming the field promotion and making it official."

  There was a pause. Jim could almost see Blair's face in his mind, processing Mac's explanation. "You think so?" Blair asks hesitantly.

  "Yeah. From what I have seen, you are doing a great job with Ellison. Don't worry so much about it."

  "But Mac, I swear, half the time I make it up as I go!"

  Mac chuckled. "I've discovered that being able to 'make it up as you go' to be just as important as knowing all the facts ahead of time. Trust in Ellison, and trust in yourself. You'll do fine."

  Wondering if this would be a good time to tell them about suspecting Mac was a guide, Jim took another step towards the deck. At that moment, Sam trotted down the stairs from the loft, and Jim decided to save the conversation for another time.

  "Hey guys, here's the drinks!" Sam called out, dragging Jim's thoughts back into the present. The young man passed out the cups of tea, coffee, and water. He glanced up as the stewardess called for pre-boarding. "Looks like your flight is on time, Dad."

  "For once," Mac chuckled. "Are you all set?" Sam was driving his rental back to Seattle to catch his own flight back to New York.

  "All loaded," Sam replied.

  Mac quickly downed his water, and tossed the cup into the trash. He turned to Ellison and held out his hand. "Thanks for keeping an eye on Sam for me."

  Jim smiled, and shook his hand. "Any time," he returned, communicating with his eyes for an instant the developing friendship between them.

  Mac then turned to Blair, " Take care of yourself, and keep looking after the big guy," Mac indicated Jim with his head while shaking Blair's hand.

  "Will do," Blair replied with a smile, more confident since their talk. "And let me know what you find in Greece!"

  The stewardess started calling row numbers for boarding. Mac draped his arm around Sam, and the two started walking towards the line of people forming at the gate.

  Jim glanced down, and noticed a heavy shirt laying on the chair next to them. "Blair, we can't let Sam forget his shirt."

  Blair glanced down. "That's not Sam's... Wait, it's Mac's!" Blair scooped it up, and ran over to catch up with Mac.

  Jim stood, puzzled. "Why was I sure it was Sam's?" he thought silently, then realized, "Because it smelled like Sam." Closing his eyes, Jim concentrated on the smell. "No, it was Mac's scent. Just that Sam's scent is close to Mac's scent, and Mac's scent is close to B...." Jim's eyes popped open. "That's why I've felt so protective of Sam, why Mac feels so trustworthy. Their scents are similar to Blair's." He looked back at the three men near the ticket stand. Sam looked like his father, but Blair was so similar to Mac in so many other ways. "Oh hell, what do I do now?"

  The End?

  Author's note, 11/9/97: While I was writing 'Control' this summer, my adopted Colorado hometown was hit by a huge flash flood, turning my street into a river, but receding just as it entered my garage. While writing this story, the entire Colorado Front Range and DIA was shut down by a blizzard in October. I am almost dreading what the follow-up story to this one may bring. But, yes, there will be a sequel. Can't leave poor Jim hanging, can I? However, it usually takes about two months for me to write a story, so hopefully it will be done in January 1998 (barring any more natural disasters...)