MacGyver (2016–…): Season 2, Episode 11 - Bullet + Pen - full transcript

57, 56, 55,

54, 53, 52,

51... Are you really gonna count
every floor on the way down?

I used to do this as a kid.

I thought it'd keep the
elevator from stopping.

Well, I can assure you
right now, it doesn't work.

You just had to interrupt the
flow, didn't you, huh? Don't.

This stoppage is on you, dude.

No. Yes, it is.

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.
Merry Christmas.



Merry Christmas.

Come on in.

It's okay. Come on.

Isn't he supposed to
be carrying the bag?

Right. Right.

Yeah. Here you go, Santa.

There's your bag.

Santa?

MacGYVER: Uh-huh?

Why are you in our elevator?

Well...

Funny thing about
apartment buildings

is they don't have fireplaces.

Ho, ho.



Your bag is moving
and making noise.

That is a new toy.

T-Tickle Me Tony.

Tickle Me Tony. Can
you turn that off, Rudolph?

Yeah, where is that
on-off switch again?

I got it. Think that's got it.

Excuse me, ma'am. Go, go, go.

J-Just so you know,

we're not weird.

We're the good guys.

♪ ♪

♪ Up on the housetop,
reindeer pause ♪

♪ Out jumps good
old Santa Claus ♪

♪ Down through the
chimney with lots of toys ♪

♪ All for the little
ones' Christmas joys ♪

♪ Ho, ho, ho ♪

♪ Who wouldn't go? ♪

♪ Ho, ho, ho ♪

♪ Who wouldn't go? ♪

Up on the housetop ♪

♪ Click, click, click ♪

♪ Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick. ♪

So you got it?

Cool. I was worried
somebody else would find it.

First time I ever
used a dead drop

to send a Christmas gift.

I'm glad you like it.

Can't wait to see
what you got me.

I'll call you the moment
I have it in hand.

I miss you, too.

Who do you miss?

My, uh... dad!

He was just making sure

I didn't need any...
pastrami help.

Which reminds me, Ms. Davis,

last year, I never got a
chance to finish telling you

about the Bozer family tradition

of Christmas pastrami.

How about you don't tell it,

and we keep this
tradition going?

You know what I mean?

And deprive you of
all of this yuletide joy?

No way!

No, you know you like it.

Now, we all know Christmas is

the most wonderful
time of the year.

It makes you feel...

MacGYVER: I'm just saying.

Why do you do this
every year, dude?

MacGYVER: Prove he's not real.

Santa is not real, okay?

You nerd. Thanks.

And please, spare me
your math that claims

to support his
existence. It's annoying.

Thank you.

You're not a grown man who
believes in Santa, are you?

I'm a grown man who cannot
rule out the existence of Santa.

Two different things.
'Cause if you think about it...

the rotation of the Earth,
different time zones,

and the latest research
into Einstein-Rosen bridges...

You've been on this
Santa kick forever.

When I found out that
Jack didn't believe in Santa,

I derived some equations
to help change his mind,

but the math only
confused him more.

Okay, so you know what
this doofus does, huh?

He breaks into my
apartment dressed as Big Red,

sets up a tree,

and crams a bunch of
gifts underneath there.

Yeah, but he caught
me before I could finish.

Well, be honest, Jack.

Did you think it was
Santa? Even for a moment?

If he took a year and went
on a juice cleanse, yeah.

I had a pillow under my coat.

You looked pregnant.

So it didn't, it
didn't really work?

No, man, I thought
he was an intruder.

He almost shot me.

Yeah, you're lucky

you didn't get shot, okay?

Now, listen, even if the Red
Reindeer Rancher is real,

breaking and
entering is still a felony.

In some progun states,

it's best just to
leave those gifts

right there on the front
porch. Know what I'm saying?

What about you?

Oh, like, do I believe in Santa?

Yeah. I have yet to see proof,

but I keep an open mind.

See? Come on.

You guys hungry?

Ah, yeah, bring on the eats.

Okay. This is so lovely, guys.

I haven't been home
to see my sister in years,

so this is my first Christmas

in a long time

with, um...

Family? Go ahead.
You can say it.

If you don't, they're gonna
make you. They made me.

That's what we are, after
all, as crazy as it sounds.

I will drink to
that. I will, too.

Cheers, guys.

Cheers. Cheers.

Hey, there she is.

What's wrong, boss?

I'm sorry, guys, but
Christmas is on hold.

What?

Why?

Because we have a problem.
What kind of problem?

You know that bomb
that you built last week?

Which one?

The one he exploded in
Angola when our cover got blown

or the one in L.A. when we,
uh, went with the bad intel?

Los Angeles. JACK: Mm-hmm.

It appears that our intel
was even more incomplete

than we realized.

That building wasn't empty.

The maintenance man, a civilian

named George Ramsey,
died when a section of the wall

collapsed on him.

I'm sorry. Are you saying
that I killed a civilian?

No, no, wait a minute.

I cleared that building myself.

It was empty. Don't start
playing the blame game...

The game's already
started, Jack.

The LAPD has a warrant
for your arrest, Mac.

They're on their way here now.

What?

No, this is crazy.

So how do we get
Mac out of this?

I don't know.

You don't know? Well, guess
what, that's not good enough.

I assure you, Jack,
that calls will be made.

But right now,
this is happening.

And we all need to
maintain our covers.

Don't-don't-don't worry,
Mac, we'll get you out of this.

You hear me?

I promise.

Angus MacGyver? Yes.

You're under arrest for the
murder of George Ramsey.

You have the right
to remain silent.

Anything you say

can and will be used
against you in a court of law.

You have the
right to an attorney.

If you cannot afford one,

one will be appointed
for you by the court.

What were you doing in that
warehouse, Mr. MacGyver?

You don't feel like talking?

That's okay.

You just sit back and relax.
I'll show you some pictures.

This is what it looks like when
someone drops a building on you.

The man you killed was married.

Two kids.

Six and eight.

Worked three
jobs just to provide.

You got somewhere to be?

Look at me.

I said look at me.

There ain't gonna be

no Christmas
miracle for you, pal.

You're here.

For good.

So you might as
well start talking.

Okay, Mac can't say anything.

Okay, no matter what
the cops throw at him,

he cannot reveal that
he's a covert agent

working for the U.S. government.

Murder charges are bad, but
violating the Espionage Act?

Way worse.

I covered all of
our digital tracks

and scrubbed all the cameras.

What evidence could
they possibly have?

You tell me. You're the
tech nerd in this mod squad.

Can't you use that thing
to crack LAPD's system?

At least find out what
they have on our boy?

What do you think
I'm trying to do, Jack?

Well, what's taking you so long?

You cracked the damn
NSA quicker than this.

Yeah, the NSA was one
system, and it was up to date.

The LAPD is at least
20 different systems,

and some of them are ancient.

I'm trying to teach
myself Fortran.

If you knew what that was,
you'd be as frustrated as I am.

Okay, look. We know
that whatever the cops

have on Mac, it was enough for
them to find him and arrest him.

We need to go back...

What we need to do is go in
there and get him right now,

forcibly, if need be.

He did the same thing
for me two weeks ago.

I owe him one.

Yeah, Jack, he did... in Yemen,

after you were arrested
under a cover ID.

Mac was arrested under his
own name at his own house.

Whatever.

Riley, crack the LAPD network

and at least see what evidence

they got against Mac and just
erase it! Right now, just do it.

Erasing all the evidence is
not gonna make this go away.

They're gonna wonder
how this happened.

Oh, come on, y'all. Seriously?

Do you know how many
rescue operations we've planned

in this very room?

This is Mac we're
talking about here.

Busting him out's
gonna be no different

than any other mission.

Except it is different, Jack.

How?! Because...

there's no exfil
at the end of this.

Okay?

We can't just break
Mac out and walk away.

And the LAPD is not the enemy.
They're just doing their job.

Yeah, and so was he, Cage.

Just doing his job.

And listen, everyone single
one of us got him in this hot spot,

and we're gonna get him out.

Now, Riley, pretty
please with sugar on top,

will you work faster?

Matty, with all due respect,
go work the phones. Please.

Okay.

Can somebody help me bring up

the action reports
on this thing?

Or I'm gonna rip it right
off the wall right now.

Please.

Bomb squad said it
was a very powerful IED,

made out of stuff that
was just lying around.

Where does a guy learn to build
something like that, I wonder?

Your ex just called.

Figured. I've been
sending her calls

to voice mail for
the last six hours.

Yeah, well, spoiler
alert, she is pissed.

So what else is new?

She wanted to know
if you're taking the girls

to the Christmas
parade tomorrow.

Depends on this guy, and if he
ever decides to open his mouth.

Oh, I had Lorenzo run
him through the system.

Here's everything we got so
far on "boy band gone bad."

He's former U.S.
Army, joined in 2009.

Honorable discharge in 2012.

The Oklahoma City bomber

had one of those
honorable discharges, too.

According to this, he
was an EOD specialist.

Well, now we know where
he learned to make IEDs.

If you can disarm a bomb,
you can definitely make one.

Yeah. Kid's got a
pile of brains, too.

Dropped out of MIT
right before joining up,

been working a think tank
since he shipped home.

Think tanks, huh?

What's he do there?

He's making more
than us, probably.

Uh, currently employed

by the Phoenix Foundation.

Before that he was at
some place called DXS.

Shut down last
year, not sure why.

Did you pull his phone records?

Calls and texts to his roommate,

a few friends and this
Phoenix Foundation.

Look, I didn't
find any red flags.

You didn't, huh?

How many 20-somethings you know

don't use their phone
for days at a time?

Look at these gaps.

No calls, no texts, no
data usage. Nothing.

He's got no credit
card or bank activity

during those periods, either.

It's like he just falls
off the face of the Earth

for days at a time.

Then he shows back up
and buildings start exploding.

I'm telling you guys, I swept
this building from top to bottom

before Mac detonated that bomb.

The place was empty.

I swear.

We heard you
the first time, Jack,

but the fact remains,
it's a big building.

Maybe you missed someone.

Well, even if I did,

Ri, you would've had
them on thermal, right?

I wasn't using thermal.

We didn't know we were gonna

have to do any
of this, remember?

Wh-What I remember

is Mac didn't kill anybody.

So, there's a good explanation

for how this guy died, period.

Look, I wasn't there,
so I can be fresh eyes.

You want to just

walk me through
everything that happened,

starting with when you first

got the call for the mission?

Where was Mac? With me.

We were in the lab.

I see fear in your eyes.

Don't worry.

This will be over soon.

Oh, I'm scared... for you.

I know how much
you hate to lose, so...

Said Venus right
before Serena beat her,

like, a dozen times.

You wish you were Serena.

I've won every game today.

I am the Serena Williams...

of ping-pong.

Curious.

Normally, MacGyver
applies backspin

to his shots to ensure victory.

But not today.

Is an injury the reason

you're not playing
at full capacity?

Apologies.

Brah. What?

Have you been letting me win?

Of course not.

All right, yes.

A little bit, but only 'cause

I was trying to cheer
you up after Leanna.

Is this why you been insisting
we hang out every night?

Look, I've been at this
spy thing a long time.

After you lose someone,

distractions can
be a great thing.

Yeah, okay, but bowling,

putt-putt, horror
movie marathons?

I mean, come on, y-you
didn't have to do all that.

Points on your bro
game, MacGyver.

Shut up, Sparky.

Hey, man, just trying
to be there for you.

You go to spy school, you
meet the girl of your dreams

and then you have to say
good-bye to serve your country.

That can't be easy.

Yeah. It's been, uh...

it's been rough.

Let me guess.

Matty, War Room, now.

Add a few more
exclamation points

and you hit the
nail on the head.

That is a G36 assault rifle.

German-made, highly lethal.

The CIA is tracking a shipment
of these that were stolen

from a plant in
Berlin last week.

Oh, yeah, I know this gun.

The firing rate on this bad boy

is incredible. There's-there's
hardly any recoil.

It's made of fiberglass,
reinforced plastic.

It's light, strong.

Extremely deadly.

She's a growler.

Do you need a moment
alone with the video, Dalton?

Mm-mm.

Can I continue?

Yeah, go ahead.

Can you move?

Yeah.

We just received

intel that the shipment is gonna
be sold on the black market,

right here in our
very own backyard.

I'm still trying
to ID the seller,

but we do know the weapons
are being held in a warehouse

outside of L.A. And since
these guns are on U.S. soil,

the CIA can't
legally retrieve them.

Which is why they've come to us.

Exactly. We
believe that the sale

is going down within
the next 48 hours.

Our mission is

to recover the guns

before the deal goes down and
these weapons hit the streets,

aimed at civilians
and law enforcement.

You know what this is?

Of course he knows what it is.

He's just hoping we
don't know what it is.

It's part of an assault rifle.

German, G36.

Forensics found them
all over the warehouse.

Which tells us there was
a large shipment of them

in the building.

Also tells us how you

might've been
supplementing your income

these days.

You selling weapons,
MacGyver? You some kind of

wannabe arms dealer?

If you are, you're not a
very good one, though.

Seems like bad business to
destroy your own merchandise.

I'd say so.

And this...

is what's left of the
bomb you made.

You learn that at EOD?

Or did you come up
with this one by yourself?

You want to say anything now?

If I sound hoarse,

it's because I just
finished yelling at the CIA.

Officially, they won't accept

any connection to this op.

Okay, then fun
and games are over.

It's time for Oversight to
bring in the sunglass squad.

You know, the ones
with a get-out-of-jail-free-

'cause-I'm-a-secret-agent
card? Those guys.

I already asked, Jack,
and the answer is no.

These are the risks that we take

when we choose to operate

on U.S. soil.

And if the charges stick
and Mac goes to jail,

- we have to let him.
- Let him?!

Go to jail?! How can
this be happening?

The LAPD can't
possibly have enough

to charge him with murder.

That's you,

exiting the warehouse
that blew up.

You care to explain that?

Oh, take your time.

I'm sure it's surprising for you

since all the security
cameras in the area

mysteriously got knocked
out somehow. You didn't figure

on the street-view car
driving by as you left, huh?

The time stamp puts you

right there,

right about the time
your bomb exploded.

Oh, and we say "your
bomb" because we also found

your fingerprints
on what was left of it.

I want my phone call.

Now.

Oh, you don't get a phone call.

What do you mean I
don't get a phone call?

You would, if we were just
charging you with murder.

A bomb you built
blew up on U.S. soil,

ending an innocent life
and destroying a building.

This isn't just about
murder anymore.

We're charging you
with domestic terrorism.

Strange, isn't it?

Each man's life touches
so many other lives.

When he isn't around, he
leaves an awful hole, doesn't he?

What do you mean, Mac
doesn't get a phone call?

The suspect always
gets a phone call.

- I know, right?
- No, not right.

Not when the charge
is domestic terrorism.

The Patriot Act
allows law enforcement

to suspend the rights
of suspected terrorists

indefinitely. Okay?
And it sounds like

they have enough to
make these charges stick.

Okay. So, now do I
have your permission

to go bust him out of there?

If you want Mac to spend
the rest of his life on the run

from the entire U.S.
intelligence agency,

then go for it.

But if you want

to clear him of these charges,

we need to prove that he
didn't kill George Ramsey.

How?

You just said the LAPD
has all this evidence.

Maybe they're
looking at it wrong.

Maybe we can use
the same evidence

to clear his name

once we get access
to it. I think she's talking

to you, Riley. Let's go.

Guys, I'm typing
as fast as I can.

Then type faster.

Okay, the longer that
we let Mac sit in there,

the longer the cops have

to fit the evidence

to their story

and paint Mac as a terrorist.

Special Agent Whittaker, FBI.

You guys don't waste any time.

Not when it comes to terrorism.

We'll give you another hour
to complete your interrogation.

Then he's ours.

I'm not who you think I am.

If you're innocent,
tell us who you are.

Not an arms dealer.

Not a terrorist.

I guess we can tack on
"Making False Statements"

and "Obstruction of
Justice" to the charges.

What you are, Mr. MacGyver,
is a jigsaw puzzle.

The picture on
the box looks good,

but lift the lid and
all you'll find inside

are a bunch of broken pieces.

Your mom died
when you were five.

Dad left when you were ten.

Lots of people
lose their parents.

But they don't all burn down

their high school
football stadium.

That was an accident.

Or a clue...

to who you would
ultimately become.

In my experience,

highly intelligent children
with abandonment issues,

a history of arson

and an abnormal
obsession with explosives

don't usually wind up
doctors and lawyers.

You've spent your
whole life looking

for somewhere to
put all that anger.

It's just too bad
we didn't catch you

before all that rage cost
an innocent man his life.

There is only one way forward.

You have to tell the truth, son.

I am telling you
the truth, Matty.

We cleared that whole building
before we found those rifles.

That place was empty.

Tell that to the dead guy
they found in the rubble.

Dead guy?

What if the victim was
already dead inside the building

when Mac and Jack
got there? Yeah.

Yeah, that might
explain why I missed him.

It's a good theory,
but we need proof.

Okay, let's go over every detail

of what happened
in that warehouse.

Maybe we can find some.

Okay, let's start at the
beginning. Where were you guys?

I was in the van,

knocking out all the
security cameras in the area.

I had eyes on the street,

looking out for any
surprise visitors.

Me and Mac did a sweep
of the warehouse exterior.

I don't believe you.

Why would I lie about that?

Because, dude, you
make up stuff all the time.

Excuse me? Ten lords a-leaping.

That's the tenth
day of Christmas.

Mm-mm, I... doesn't sound right.

Okay, sing it.

♪ On the first
day of Christmas ♪

♪ My true love gave to me ♪

♪ The dumbest song ever made. ♪

I'm not gonna
sing it. It's stupid.

You know what? Christmas
was just made up by Mattel

to sell Hot Wheels, anyway.

Santa's just a bloated
brand ambassador.

Actually, "Christ's Mass" was
first celebrated in Rome in 336,

about a thousand
years before Mattel

started making Hot Wheels.

That-that proves two things:

one, brainwashing
works; and two,

you make stuff up, dude.

It do... I-I don't care.

Just let's get on with the B&E.

Hurry up.

Four calling birds,
three French hens,

two turtle doves
and a partridge?

That's a lot of birds, man.

That's a disappointing
first four days.

If you're my true love,

give me them five
rings on the first day.

I'll wear one,
pawn the other four.

Get the whole family whatever
they want for Christmas.

Are you still talking?

Hey, whoa, whoa, wait, wait.

Dude, what's the
matter with you?

What?

What are you doing?

I'm propping the door open.

Why? So we can
sneak those guns out

through the same entrance
we came in, dumb-dumb.

You're not the only one who
can think up stuff on the fly,

all right?

I got a brain on me.

All you did was
grab a cinder block...

You know what?

Great job.

What did you see
when you got in?

Nothing special.

Just a regular old warehouse.

I swept the building,
clearing it room by room

while we searched
for those guns.

But then, new players
entered the game.

Guys, I got an
18-wheeler inbound,

with an escort. Two sedans.

They're still a ways out,

but they're definitely
headed our way.

It must be transport
for the weapons.

The deal we thought was
happening in 48 hours?

I think it's going down now.

Mac, Jack, just grab
the guns and get the hell

out of there.

Love to, Riley.

Really would. Just one

teensy little problem.

Yeah, the deal isn't just sooner
than we expected, it's bigger.

Way bigger.

This is way more guns
than we can just grab and go.

I don't suppose you
can make a forklift

out of any of this stuff
laying around, could you?

You know what?

I could build an explosive
to melt these down,

rendering them useless.

Ooh. I love that idea.

But the blast could damage
the structural integrity

of the building,
bringing it down on us.

I hate that idea.

With the amount of time we have,

I don't see any other option.

All right, well, you
do your thing, kid.

I'll see if I can buy
us some time, yeah?

So I went to barricade the door

with the cinder block, you know,

to try slow those bad guys down

while Mac cooked up
the boom-boom sauce.

What did you do after

you barricaded the door?

Well, yeah, that's...

that's the thing.

When I got there,
the door was closed.

Somebody must've...

moved the cinder block.

Why didn't you
mention this before?

I don't know, Cage,
it didn't really register.

I was trying to keep
those guys at bay.

I was planning on passing
out a lot of knuckle sandwiches.

Cinder blocks don't just
move by themselves, Jack.

I know. Someone must've entered

the warehouse after you did.

Someone like George Ramsey.

Or whoever killed him.

Well, we need to find out.

Riley, how's it coming

with the LAPD
hack? Yep, hang on.

Finally found the
right computer.

Just need to find
his case file, and...

That's him?

That's the victim?

That's George Ramsey?

Yeah. Why?

I've seen that guy
before. Where?

I'll help you, Jack.

Headed to the back door now.

But if George Ramsey was
driving away when the building

came down, then...
then Mac didn't kill him.

Means someone else
did, and they got his body

and put it in the warehouse.

But who? And why?

Well, that's what
we're gonna figure out.

That's how we're gonna save Mac.

♪ ♪

This interview's over. I'd like a word alone
with my client. Whoa, who the hell are you?

You can't just barge in here.
- Roger Preston,

attorney at law. I'm surprised
you don't recognize me

from my client's Christmas party

you so rudely interrupted.

Your client is being held

on suspicion of
domestic terrorism.

That doesn't abrogate his
Sixth Amendment right to counsel

as affirmed by
Hamdi v. Rumsfeld.

Look it up.

So are we gonna continue
to violate said rights,

or can I have that
word alone I requested?

Did I say "please"? Please?

Fine.

But I'd advise your client

to cooperate with us.
Thank you, Detective.

I'll take it from here.

You do great work, gentlemen.

Appreciate you.

Can't believe that
actually worked.

I really hope you
know what you're doing.

Don't worry, Riley
cut the, uh, cameras

and the speakers to
the observation room,

so we're all good. Besides,

whatever we talk about

falls under lawyer-client
confidentiality,

so...

That was impressive.

Where'd you learn
all that legalese?

Oh, Matty. She made me
memorize it phonetically.

I have no earthly
idea what I just said.

So, like I said, Riley
hacked the LAPD network,

gave your file
a little look-see,

and that's when Bozer
said he saw that dude,

the victim,

leaving the warehouse,
before it went kaboom.

Really? He wasn't in the...

I didn't kill him?

No, you didn't kill
him. Of course not.

But we still have to prove it.

That's where your EOD
training comes in, okay?

You have to prove that a guy
found dead inside of a building

was actually alive outside
of it before the bomb went off.

Get me?

Go.

My tie straight?

Wait a second.

That's where they
found the body?

Yeah. He's way too close.

Yeah, well, that's kind of
the problem, now, isn't it?

No, I mean,

he couldn't have been
that close to the blast

when the bomb went off.

Look. This guy,

he should be covered,
at that distance,

in secondary blast injuries.

Hundreds of tiny little
wounds caused by flying debris.

But he doesn't have any.

Hmm. I don't know where
George Ramsey died,

but it wasn't there.

Whoever killed George

brought in his body and
covered him in debris.

Webber. Dalton here.

Hey, our boy figured it out.

He confirmed he didn't do it.

Speaker.

Right.

Okay, but Mac
can't exactly serve

as an expert witness
at his own trial.

In order to clear him, we
have to find the real killer.

Yeah, well, how are we supposed

to do that? It's not like
we have a ton of leads.

Actually, I might have one.

Yeah.

All right, I-I never really know
if I'm gonna find what I need

to make... well,
whatever it is I need.

But this time, I got lucky.

Too lucky.

Matches...

and aluminum foil
are everywhere.

But sodium hydroxide?

Doesn't exactly grow on trees.

Neither does tin foil.

N-Not to nitpick,

but that doesn't grow on trees.

I was in a hurry,

calculating exothermic
reaction rates in my head,

so I didn't really think
about it at the time.

But along with sodium hydroxide,

I also found... cold medicine

and nail polish remover,

which can only mean one thing.

You know, Mac, as much
as I love it when you launch

into a lecture I
barely understand,

but we're kind of
on the clock here,

so what's the point?

Methamphetamine, Jack.

Ooh. Nail polish remover,

cold medicine and
sodium hydroxide

are all key ingredients
in the synthesis of meth.

Wait a minute, now.
What you're saying is,

our badass group of
international arms dealers

is really a not so badass group

of low-rent
methamphetamine dealers?

No.

Not low-rent. Not anymore.

The meth business in
the U.S. has changed.

A recent run of DEA busts
left a manufacturing hole

that the La Ola Cartel

stepped in to fill.

When I first dug
into the warehouse,

I hit a nest of shell companies,

which led me to
warehouse owner H. Ruiz.

But searching just "H. Ruiz"

turned up over 20,000 hits.

Now that I know those shells
are tied a Mexican drug cartel,

I can search H. Ruiz in
the DEA database, and...

here's Hector Ruiz.

A lieutenant in La Ola,

and owner of the
warehouse in question.

If the cartel owned
the warehouse,

then George Ramsey
worked for them.

And maybe he was more
than just a maintenance man.

Maybe he kept an eye
on all of their contraband.

But when we broke in...

He knew he was outnumbered,

so instead of protect the
stash, he bugged out on his bike.

Almost running me
over in the process.

So the cartel killed him
as punishment for fleeing,

and then dumped
his body in the rubble.

Oh, hell, yeah.

What?

Oh, this is all starting
to make sense.

Now all we need is proof

to convince Joe
Thursday out there.

Hey, I tell you what.

Matty, I'm gonna come
back to the Phoenix,

and we're gonna go
have a heart-to-heart

with this Hector
Ruiz fella, yeah?

Good idea, Jack.

All right.

And you... sit tight.

When I come back,

we're gonna be leaving here.

Together.

Time to get into character.

Somebody say "action"?

Action?

There it is.

Good talk, I'll
see you in court.

Clear.

Clear.

Clear!

Clear.

Hector's not home, boss.

Toss this place.

I want to know where
this guy is right now.

Well, you were right.

Something was definitely
off about that lawyer.

His Web site and
address check out,

but I called a friend
over in the DA's office.

No one's ever heard
of "Roger Preston,

attorney at law."

So either MacGyver's lawyer
never once crossed paths

with the DA's office...

Or he's not a lawyer at all.

I called the bar association.

There's no Roger Preston
registered in California.

I think it's time we
had a little talk with him.

All right.

Not in there.

Been in there too long.

He's too comfortable.

Is the basement
still being renovated?

Well, if you call the
department running out of money

and abandoning the project

"still being renovated,"
sure. Place is a mess, though.

No one's been
down there for weeks.

Sounds perfect.

Okay. I got some kind

of weird printer here.

That's an ID card printer.

With the right software,
you can make a...

Uh-oh.

What is it?

Guy made himself

a fake police ID.

We need to get to Mac.

We can't do that

without breaking cover.

I don't care. Mac's
life is more important.

Jack, go save our boy.

Yes, ma'am.

Go ahead, Officer Rivera.

♪ ♪

Pardon our dust.

He's all yours.

Maybe you can get
more out of him than I did.

Cover, cover, cover!

Friend of yours?

He's here to kill me.

He's La Ola Cartel.

They own the warehouse.

So now you start talking.

Where's your weapon?

It's locked in my desk.

Mine, too. We got
about 20 seconds

before our friend
figures that out.

But we still have bullets.

What good are
bullets with no gun?

You wanted to know who I am.

Let me show you.

Actually, I'm gonna
need everything

that you guys have. Thank you.

Okay, what exactly
are you gonna do?

Save our lives...

I hope.

Ah, excuse me.

Hand over your suspect!

And you can both
go home tonight.

It's a win-win for everyone.

Everyone except the blonde guy.

Hold it, right there.

What the hell was that?

An exploding dart.

Made with gunpowder

and a blasting cap
taken from a bullet

and a ballpoint pen.

Don't worry.

They're with me.

We're charging Ruiz

with the murder of George
Ramsey and three FBI agents.

And we got an anonymous e-mail,

detailing both the
cartel's methamphetamine

and arms dealing operations.

Which suggests...

the blast that brought
down their warehouse

was just another
meth lab explosion.

And as for you...

We could charge you with

impersonating an
officer of the court

and obstruction of justice.

Who, me?

But we're gonna give
you a warning instead.

You're both free to go. Hmm.

That is a Christmas miracle.

One last question,
though... Yep.

What is it you do, exactly?

I sell bathroom tile. I
work at a think tank.

Merry Christmas, Mr. MacGyver.

Merry Christmas,
Detective Greer.

Turner.

Okay, that's right.

I sent Cage in as
a "social worker"

to talk to Ruiz.

She convinced him
to flip on the cartel.

He's laying out the
entire operation for us.

Way to go, Cage.

Yeah, the day keeps getting
better and better, doesn't it?

And what better
way to celebrate...

than with some reheated
Christmas pastrami.

It's like fine wine, it...

it only gets better with age.

Okay, I'm sorry.

Christmas pastrami?

I mean, who eats
pastrami on Christmas?

Ha. Well, I'm-I'm glad
you asked, Matilda.

See, it all started back in '93

in a little place
called Mission City,

during a freak snowstorm.

I was a little child...
Yeah, I'm out.

Yeah, I would love to
hear the rest of that story.

I'm sure that's delicious.

Uh, another time.

You and me.

So, I was a little boy...

See what the old Chimney
Slider brought you this year, Ri.

Oh, man.

This is from your dad.

Wow. And this...

this is from me.

It's not breakable.

Your, uh, your wrapping
skills could use some work.

Yeah, well, not to sound
like an after-school special,

but it's the
thought that counts.

Merry Christmas.

Thanks, Jack.

Welcome.

Where's Mac and Cage?

I don't know where
Mac is, but I think Cage

went to her place to
get everybody's gifts.

Mac?

Are you seriously trying to
repeat what you did with Jack?

Mac?

Murdoc.

Ho ho ho.

Oh...

Last time I shot you,
you were wearing a vest.

Not this time.

I'll leave you to die now.

Heard the good
news about Hector.

Only you can get
arrested for murder

and end up taking
down a major cartel, Mac.

I got you something.

What is it?

Open it up.

Paper clips.

Hey.

I know that I put the kibosh

on your sculptures
when I took over,

but, if they help
you to think...

I think it's time to let
MacGyver be MacGyver.

You sure?

With everything that
just happened, I...

I don't know.

I'm beginning to wonder
if the way that I do things...

Okay, I'm gonna
stop you right there.

I know that I had my
doubts about you at first.

But you convinced
me to ignore them.

All of them.

And I am so glad that you did.

Because now,

there's no one that I
trust more than you, Mac.

That kind of trust...

we should probably be
honest with each other, right?

Mac...

this gift wasn't under
the tree yesterday...

and it's for you.

This is from my dad.

How do you know?

MacGYVER: This wrapping paper,

he used it on the last
gift that he gave me.

I just, I know. Um...

If you guys don't
mind, I-I, uh...

I need to do this alone.

Cage?

Cage?

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