MacGyver Imagines

"Roulette"

A/N: Hey y'all! How's everyone doing? It's almost Summer! ☀️ Yay! I'm back with my latest installment, and it is sort of a "prelude" to one of my other stories. If you've read "Party for Two," you may remember the mention of a certain Russian mission 😉. I got a few requests to write about that, so here it is! Also, Agent_DesireeNguyen requested that I use this song for one of my stories. In all, I hope you like it! 💚
Song: "Roulette" by Katy Perry
Rating: Mature sexual content

***

"I'm uptight playing by the rules in this game of life. Three hundred-sixty-five days on the grind. Something's stirring; I might need to unwind."

Sheer silence echoes through the vast space around Mac and me as a light snow falls from the bitter atmosphere. The fluffy crystals of frozen water melt instantly as they hit our warm bodies, soaking deep into our layered clothing. Ironically, this is the first bit of quietness I've experienced all night. But, it's not the good kind of quiet. It's the tense kind. As we practically stride through the snow I'm left to listen only to the light crunching under our boots. To make matters worse, we are far from anywhere close to home... instead, we're in Russia... somewhere near the Kola Peninsula to be exact.

"I can't believe we lost our asset," I finally pipe up in frustration to break the intense silence.

"I assume you're going to say it was my fault."

"Ha. You think?"

"Instead of raking over the details, maybe we could focus on the fact that the Russian government is now searching for us."

"That would also be your fault," I add sarcastically. "I had the asset in my sights. If you hadn't interfered, we would have made our exfil and been halfway back home by now. Instead, we've spent the last three hours running from them."

"What happened to not placing direct blame for what happens on missions? I thought you said it's always a team effort."

"Usually I would say that. But, I believe an exception is granted when one team member is being stupid." I roll my eyes in his direction, and he huffs.

"Wow. Harsh."

"Take it as you will." But, I digress, "You know what? Arguing is getting us nowhere. I think I liked the silence better."

"Fine by me."

After about half a mile more of walking in the bitter cold, I notice what appears to be a brown barn in the distance on a vast lay of land surrounded by weathered fences. It seems to be deserted, however. That's not surprising considering we're basically in the middle of nowhere. After what has felt like endless miles of running from the Russian officers, it's late and we're about five minutes away from completely freezing in these wet clothes. We lost contact with Phoenix hours ago, and we can't survive the night out here without shelter.

When we approach the barn, it's terribly weathered with the paint peeling. Through a small window, it appears to be nearly empty, save for some old straw and tools. But, an iron lock still sits in place, blocking the inside from intruders. Mac eyes the object. "Do you have any Bobby pins?" he finally chooses to ask.

"You assume, just because I'm a woman, that I always have Bobby pins with me?" I jest with distaste. He just eyes me, deciding not to dig his grave any deeper. "No I don't have any," I clarify as if clarification were even needed at this point.

So, without a word, he searches for something else to pick the lock with. As he does, though, I notice an old metal shovel propped against one wall. I take hold of it, slamming the metal several times against the lock. Soon, the lock breaks free.