Chapter Text
Change was a constant in Fern Abott’s life.
The irony of that fact was not lost on her. After all, life could only throw so much in the way of her plans before she had to laugh at the shear volume of absurdity. It beat crying at least. Helped keep her sane. And in her line of work, that was something she was determined to hang onto.
Government agent had hardly been a childhood aspiration. In fact, it had been as far removed as one could imagine. But, one of life’s little quirks had gotten in the way of those dreams, and so she was left with one last ditch effort to escape her life being completely financially tanked before she hit twenty-five.
That and spite, but that was something to be discussed with a therapist.
She had hardly fit the profile that might be expected for an MI6 agent. No sharp clothes, Queen’s English accent or degree in computer science. No familial affiliations with global intelligence or law enforcement. By all accounts, it was a small miracle they accepted her rather desperate application.
And in the five years since, she had grown into quite the spy, despite her expectations of landing nothing higher than a desk job. With enough training, her skillset had been pulled neatly to the surface, and moulded into something that served her position quite well.
In such a short time, it had expanded her world greatly. Taking her across countries and continents, far away from the town she had grown up in. Instead of making her fear change, she anticipated it. Itching to move further and further onto the next thing, for better or worse. She gave herself little time to consider it.
Needless to say, when a call came in asking for her to pick up and move to Los Angeles within a week, she had all but jumped at the chance. Not that she held any ill will towards her position in England, but in recent times it had begun to feel small, for lack of a better term. She knew all the faces, all the secrets and shadows.
America was set to offer her a fresh position. From what she had been told, she was being assigned to a highly classified group of individuals working for an even more highly classified government agency masquerading as a think-tank. It sounded insane - more action and secrets than even the top agencies she was used to mixing with. But that only served to excite her more.
Not to mention she had been asked for personally by who was to become her boss, Matilda Webber. A woman she had acquired some experience with early in her career when she still held a position with the CIA. She had always held a deep respect for her perception, and in turn her potential had been recognised.
Which is what brought her to today.
A part of her did feel out of place as she worked her way through the building. It was evident the Phoenix Foundation took its think-tank cover very seriously, and she could only dream of truly understanding some of the projects they looked to be working on. But if she got deterred by everything she did not know, she would not have made it very far at MI6.
So instead, she held her head up. Listened to the muted thud of her boots against the polished floors. Felt the sway of her caramel coloured hair against her shoulders. And headed for the new basecamp.
The door was closed when she arrived, but the windows remained unobscured; and so she felt confident in knocking before sticking her head into the room. She had been instructed to ‘come straight up’.
Matilda - or ‘Matty’ as she preferred - was there as expected. Standing opposite a man who looked to be at least twenty years Fern’s senior. Engaged in what could only be described as a standoff. They both looked to her, equally caught off guard by the sudden intrusion.
“Sorry, Matty. Am I interrupting?”
The man looked even more confused when she spoke, finally betraying her strong accent. Far from local to L.A., or what would be expected for an agent out of London. But needless to say, that summarised her: unexpected.
Matty’s expression warmed at the sight of her. “Not at all, Agent Abott. Please come in.”
Fern nodded, stepping inside and shutting the door behind her. She took a position beside her boss, hands folded behind her back as she took the chance to size up her new colleague, who seemed to be doing the same.
He appeared the quintessential American military type, from his understated way of dressing to his neatly cropped haircut. His exterior seemed gruff, though he had clearly been withering under Matty’s exacting gaze. Anything else would have to wait.
“Now if the rest of the team would get their asses in here…” she continued in a mutter to herself. She turned to look through the glass, spotting her targets with a distinct air of impatience.
Following her gaze gave Fern her first look at the rest of the team. Two men, one woman, all appearing to be closer to her in age than the man already in the room. And all of them looking distinctly panicked as they hurried out of their hiding spot, much to her amusement.
Matty was not that scary. At least not in her opinion.
The door opened for a second time, and the trio slipped in with apprehension. There was something to be said for the way they all avoided standing too close to Matty, and the curious looks they each gave Fern as they noticed her.
“Everything okay in here?” One of them asked.
“Yeah. Super,” said the man from before, revealing his own equally strong Texas accent, already dripping with sarcasm. “We were just reminiscing about old times, weren’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah. Before we were interrupted by this mysterious little lady,” he continued, gesturing in Fern’s direction. The smile he was met with did little to ease his tension. “Anyone know who she is?”
“Your new teammate,” Matty cut in firmly. “This is Fern Abott, MI6. She’s going to be joining you on all assignments going forward. I trust you’ll make her feel at home. Fern, these are agents MacGyver, Jack, Riley and Bozer. I trust you’ll figure out what each of them does.”
Fern took a moment to discern each of them, matching the names to the faces as she panned across them.
Jack was simple enough, having already been subject to her analysis. It was clear he did not like the way she was looking at him, and so she moved on to the newcomers.
Bozer looked the most out of place amongst them, hanging back and out of the way as though he was afraid to be noticed. From the white jacket and more relaxed clothing it was easy enough to work out why - he was not one for field work. Dark eyes set in dark features, black hair neatly shaved. If anything he looked tailor-made for their cover story instead of their actual job.
Riley was the only other woman, carrying a have backpack over one shoulder, and a bulky laptop in one hand. She met Fern’s eyes when she looked at her, reading her right back. Clearly analytical in some sense. And quite pretty, in her opinion; dark makeup matched her clothes, bringing out her striking features and tanned skin.
And then there was MacGyver, the all-American poster child. Fair skin, blond hair, blue eyes. Wearing a brown leather jacket that had seen more than a few assignments, but was in no way falling off his toned frame. Attractive, in an obvious way if you liked that sort of thing. Which Fern did.
There was a brief moment of eye contact, where the two caught each other staring. She made no move to back down, her lips quirking into a small and knowing smile, which seemingly disarmed him as he looked away again.
Her smile only widened at the victory.
“Wait, wait, wait, MI6 as in James Bond? 007?” Bozer’s voice rose with veritable excitement. “Are you a Double-O?”
“Bozer, you know the Double-O program isn’t a real thing,” Riley said gently.
“Or isn’t it?” Fern raised both her eyebrows in a teasing challenge, knowing full well that it was entirely fictional. The expression unsettled the team further.
“So, what are you doing here?” MacGyver asked, curious.
“I requested a transfer, Matty offered me a job,” she answered simply. “But if I knew the view was gonna be this good in L.A., I would have asked sooner.”
She gave both MacGyver and Riley a not-so-subtle look, up and down, still with the same mischievous smile. She was met with a surprised look back from Riley, and MacGyver once again avoided meeting her eye, clearing his throat.
“Anyway,” Matty cut in, giving the woman a pointed look. “Riley, can you tell us about a program that you coded called ‘FR-1507’?”
Riley looked caught off guard being addressed, but did as she was asked. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, it’s a new facial-recognition program I’m working on. Still in beta testing right now, but we’re comparing random faces in YouTube videos to the FBI’s Most Wanted list to train it to eliminate false positives.”
Fern looked impressed. Definitely on the brainy side. By comparison she had no knowledge or patience for coding, but she understood enough terminology to at least be able to tell if someone was talking out of their arse or not, which Riley certainly was not.
“Well, you may have been looking for false positives, but you found a real criminal. Look what just came in.”
Their attention was directed towards the main screen, which sat squarely in the middle of the back wall. It had been idly displaying a few nondescript readouts - most likely things that were not too confidential to leave in rotation to give the room some extra life, but it shifted to pull up the YouTube tab under scrutiny.
“Bummer, it had to interrupt our little chitchat,” Jack muttered sarcastically.
“Shut up, Jack.”
The video had been taken from a convenience store security camera, sitting snugly in the corner to survey the whole room. It looked fairly mundane; stocked shelves and florescent lights. Two customers keeping to themselves, and one store attendant.
“Oh, snap. I saw this already. It’s amazing,” Bozer’s face lit up. “Hey, watch here when the bottle breaks over the dude’s head.”
MacGyver and Jack both turned back to the screen with renewed interest, just in time to see the attendant catch onto one of the customers - conspicuously hiding under a black hoodie - trying to stuff merchandise down the front of his jacket. She responded quickly, throwing one bottle of soda at his arm before smashing a second over his head, leaving him rather surprised at the ferocity of the assault. Jack and Bozer continued to laugh as he went on to slip on the spilled soda, falling to the floor helplessly.
“Wait, this ding dong stealing Ding Dong’s is on the FBI’s Most Wanted?” Jack asked, sceptical.
“Not him,” Matty corrected. “Him.”
The screen shifted perspective, focusing on the third member of the video. The second customer, stood one aisle over.
“This guy is a seventeen-point match for a fugitive named Douglas Bishop, number six on FBI’s Most Wanted. Bishop was a top lieutenant in the Philly mob, until Special Agent Eva Santos was tasked with busting him.”
Santos’ file appeared on screen, alongside the profile they had on Bishop. Both well-documented enough.
MacGyver’s eyes scanned over the readout meticulously. “According to this, Bishop gunned her down and escaped before he could stand trial.”
“Yeah, the FBI’s gonna want this collar,” Jack agreed. “He killed one of their own. Shouldn’t we be sharing this intel with them?”
“I’d love to,” Matty said. “If we could trust them.”
“We can’t trust the feds?” Riley asked.
“Not on when it comes to Bishop. He’s been on their radar for years. Targeted in multiple investigations, and then somehow has slipped through the cracks every single time.”
“You think he’s got someone on the inside,” Fern surmised, earning her a look from MacGyver who she had beaten to the punch. “Helping him escape.”
“I think that there’s reason to suspect it,” she agreed. “And until we know the truth, we can’t trust anyone at the FBI. We want Bishop to answer for killing a federal agent, we’re just gonna have to catch him ourselves.”
Each one of the team straightened up, sharing the same resolve. Fern got the impression that fugitive tracking and apprehension was not the most extreme assignment they were to be given, so it at least gave her hope for her first day.
“Mac, Jack, Fern, you’ll find Bishop. Riley, you’ll run surveillance from Phoenix. And Bozer… what exactly is it that you do here again?”
Bozer frowned, his voice catching in the back of his throat and coming out slowly. “I… work in the lab?”
Matty’s tone remained level. “I know. I was messing with you.”
He chuckled uncomfortably in response.
“I want you and Riley here so that we can do your evaluations.”
Fern saw the distant looks that gave both Bozer and Riley. Clearly, they each had something to worry about in those ‘evaluations’. She wanted to tell them they had nothing to worry about, but from where she was standing, she knew that was too easy for her to say for it to carry any real weight for them. It would just have to wait.
“Okay people, this is our first op together as a team. Time to show me what you’ve got.”