MacGyver

103 miles off the coast of Florida,

there's an island that'll always hold

a special place in my heart.

Now, everyone loves the landscape,

the food, the music.

But what I love most are the people.

The Cubans learned how to make do with what they had.

And maybe that simplicity of life

is why everybody seems so happy here...

Well, almost everybody.

You keep punching on the kid, I'm gonna get jealous over here.

Where's the love?

And you swing like a little girl.

Oh! Yeah, that was more manly.

Mira!

Why are you looking for this man, huh?

He's dating my sister.

Oh, my cousin?

Mi madre?

Okay. Okay, papa.

Since you don't seem to know nothing, huh,

perhaps I go back to your friend...

What's so funny, huh?

Jack!

What's so funny, huh?

You know, you could've hit him with your fist.

I know, but a headbutt sends

a much clearer message. Besides,

I was only taking all those punches

to give your big, swollen brain enough time

to figure this out.

Which I did. You're welcome.

Yeah, well, it took you long enough.

Next time, you make a blade out of a button.

Maybe I will.

Hey. Hey, cowboy.

Wakey-wakey.

Oy! My turn, sweetheart.

Listen up, now.

This lunatic tried to kill us, so we locked him up.

So he sent another lunatic to trash our headquarters

and stab our friend. You listening?

And then just when we thought we were done with this

wannabe super-villain,

he eats half of Paradise Lost to fake his own death

and escape from supermax.

So, as you can imagine,

we'd like to have a little word with him about that.

Hey.

We know Murdoc was here. Where is he?

Buenas dias!

You Miguel?

Hey, where you going?

We just want to have a little chat.

Hey! Hey!

Now what?

This, right here. Oh, come on, man.

What are we supposed to do with this?

Well, as long as it runs, right?

Get it going.

Be honest.

This is what your heaven looks like, isn't it?

This is Cuba, Jack. Everything's improvised.

Yes. Say your prayers, Jack's driving.

Mueve tu trasero!

Move! Out of the way! Move!

Hey!

Jack! Hit the brakes!

What?

I said, hit the brakes!

Brakes?

What brakes?!

Ah, crap!

This is gonna hurt!

Are you sure this is necessary, Bozer?

You did two weeks of rehab, your stitches are healed.

I watched you walk down the hallway

to get into this wheelchair.

Hospital rules, Riley. Sorry.

Ooh, sorry about that.

Hey, hey, hey, hey!

Okay... How clumsy of me.

Sorry. Okay, okay.

I'm getting up, all right? Okay.

Finally. Oh...

Look who's better already. Hi.

Yeah. It'll take more than

a knife-wielding psychopath to stop me.

I mean, not much more, but...

- How was Cuba? - Mm...

No bueno.

I mean, our intel was half-right.

Miguel did help Murdoc get into the country,

but he was just picking up some cash he had hidden,

and then he disappeared again.

Minor setback aside,

I did get to, uh, Evel Knievel a seawall,

which was nice, and pick up a box of these bad boys.

What do you say, hero... cigar?

Uh, thanks, Jack, but the last time I smoked a cigar,

I nearly threw up.

I'm good. Thank you.

I knew I should have asked the girl first.

Oh, you're gonna end up back in that wheelchair, bubba.

Mac,

is that the watch?

Yep. "The watch"?

That watch changed Mac's life.

It's the reason he fell in love

with building stuff.

It was his father's.

My first real memory of my dad, actually,

was him popping this thing open.

He used to explain all the little parts...

The cogs, the springs, the gears...

They all come together to make something greater.

He didn't keister that thing, did he? Jack...

That was a movie. That was a good question.

No, it wasn't. Anyways,

with this watch, my dad taught me that,

with the right parts, you could make anything.

Even time.

And it was about the only thing he took with him when he left.

So you found his watch, but not him?

Well, we-we tracked him from his last known location

to a hostel in Barcelona, then to a crash-pad in Kiev,

which led to a cabin in Patagonia...

Which is where we found this. Yeah, and then

that's when Matty called us back in

to deal with this pain in our ass, Murdoc.

Your dad loved that watch. It's hard to imagine

him leaving it behind.

Yeah, I know.

When we just weren't talking, that was one thing.

But now...

I mean, not knowing where he is, it's...

Yeah. My dad's not winning any.

"Father of the Year" awards either.

But if he just disappeared, you think something happened to him?

I don't know. That's the worst part of it.

It always has been.

When I was a kid, I used to wish I would find out

that he up and left, started a new family somewhere,

so at least I'd have an answer.

But now...

...all I have are questions.

Jack, turn the car around. Matty needs us.

I know that everything we do here is highly classified,

but what we're about to discuss does not leave this room. Clear?

But-but isn't that what "highly classified" means?

Jack... Okay, if we say yes,

will you tell us who she is?

Samantha Cage, CIA.

The accent says otherwise.

I was SAS 4-Squadron before the CIA offered me a job.

4-Squadron?

That's the covert ops unit of Australian Intelligence, yeah?

- That's right. - I'm impressed.

You don't even know what that is, Bozer.

True. But it sounds secret agent-y.

Agent Cage's specialty is intel extraction.

What Riley can do to a computer, she can do to a suspect...

- Hack their hard drive. - Oh, that's adorable.

But yours truly is already well-trained

at interrogating hostiles.

If I need info out of somebody who's being stubborn,

I can usually just rearrange their face.

Oh, that's adorable,

but, you see, I prefer methods that actually work.

Such as?

Let's just say I can be your best friend

or your worst nightmare.

So why are you here?

Hey, the last time Matty introduced us

to a new face in the Phoenix, I wound up with 20 stitches.

What's this about?

Two years ago, I sent a SEAL team

on a classified mission to the Middle East.

Mission went sideways, team was ambushed.

Everyone got out, except one...

Lieutenant J.G. Samuel Diaz's transport was hit by an RPG.

His body was never found.

He was considered K.I.A.,

until now.

Ten days ago, Diaz's parents were contacted

by a small terrorist cell claiming that their son

is still alive, and demanding $5 million for his release.

So, they had him for two years,

and they're just now asking for ransom?

My superiors had the same question: Why now?

I think they've been moving Diaz from one spider hole

to another to keep us from finding him.

When the search died down, they decided they want to cash in.

Maybe. But every agency in the Five Eyes

has looked into this.

Not one could find proof of life.

The official position of the U.S. government

is that this is a hoax.

A terror cell looking to capitalize off of a dead SEAL.

But if they're wrong, then Diaz is still alive,