Afrikaans
Akan
Albanian
Amharic
Arabic
Armenian
Azerbaijani
Basque
Belarusian
Bemba
Bengali
Bihari
Bosnian
Breton
Bulgarian
Cambodian
Catalan
Cebuano
Cherokee
Chichewa
Chinese (Simplified)
Corsican
Croatian
Czech
Danish
Dutch
English
Esperanto
Estonian
Ewe
Faroese
Filipino
Finnish
French
Frisian
Ga
Galician
Georgian
German
Greek
Guarani
Gujarati
Haitian Creole
Hausa
Hawaiian
Hebrew
Hindi
Hmong
Hungarian
Icelandic
Igbo
Indonesian
Interlingua
Irish
Italian
Japanese
Javanese
Kannada
Kazakh
Kinyarwanda
Kirundi
Kongo
Korean
Krio (Sierra Leone)
Kurdish
Kurdish (Soranî)
Kyrgyz
Laothian
Latin
Latvian
Lingala
Lithuanian
Lozi
Luganda
Luo
Luxembourgish
Macedonian
Malagasy
Malay
Malayalam
Maltese
Maori
Marathi
Mauritian Creole
Moldavian
Mongolian
Myanmar (Burmese)
Montenegrin
Nepali
Nigerian Pidgin
Northern Sotho
Norwegian
Norwegian (Nynorsk)
Occitan
Oriya
Oromo
Pashto
Persian
Polish
Portuguese (Brazil)
Portuguese (Portugal)
Punjabi
Quechua
Romanian
Romansh
Runyakitara
Russian
Samoan
Scots Gaelic
Serbian
Serbo-Croatian
Sesotho
Setswana
Seychellois Creole
Shona
Sindhi
Sinhalese
Slovak
Slovenian
Somali
Spanish
Spanish (Latin American)
Sundanese
Swahili
Swedish
Tajik
Tamil
Tatar
Telugu
Thai
Tigrinya
Tonga
Tshiluba
Tumbuka
Turkish
Turkmen
Twi
Uighur
Ukrainian
Urdu
Uzbek
Vietnamese
Welsh
Wolof
Xhosa
Yiddish
Yoruba
Zulu
The usual problem in Los Angeles
on a lazy Saturday is what to do.
Surfing in the Pacific?
Skiing in the mountains?
Maybe head for the beach and watch the girls roll in.
Mm... not exactly.
I was celebrating, if that's the word,
the anniversary of a friendship.
I'd met Pete Thornton seven years ago today,
so I'd been running around all morning long
following the anniversary instructions Pete had sent me.
He asked me to locate a bar magnifying glass
and bring it to him at Adler's Wrecking Yard
at 8:00 sharp.
Pete always could come up with something a little off-center.
Now, where to find him?
Hey, Pete!
Over here!
Pete?
Here. Over here.
Hi. What you doing?
What am I doing?
What are you doing?
Do you have any idea how difficult it is
to find a bar magnifier on a weekend?
No. And what do we want one for anyway?
Get inside if you want to ask any more dumb questions.
I can't hear you.
The only way you can fit in here is if you're a contortionist,
and I don't qualify.
Should have brought a flashlight.
And what am I doing here?
Playing hide-and-seek...
...for a newspaper?
Well, I don't know,
but your note said to meet you here at 8:00
and to bring a bar magnifier.
My note? I'm here because of your note.
I never sent you a note.
Jack.
Dalton?
That clown?
Are you telling me he got us out here on a wild-goose chase?
Yeah, sure. It's his kind of practical joke.
He was part of it seven years ago
when you and I first met, you remember that?
How could I forget?
Here.
Now, let's see what you got.
Knowing Jack, there's some kind of goofy message.
I can't believe he got us out here this early.
Here.
Look at that.
"In memorium.
"Three dear friends taken before their time.
Peter Thornton..."
"Jack Dalton, MacGyver."
What is going on?
Doors are jammed!
Are you all right?
Whoever got us in here, it wasn't Jack Dalton.
All right, let's see if we can raise the roof.
All right, it's moving!
All right, here.
Come on.
You okay, Pete?
- Yeah. You? - Yeah.
We're in a box.
Looks like a semitrailer.
Yeah, we're on our way... somewhere.
Door is locked solid. Tight as a drum.
There's no access to the cab.
Does that look like a speaker to you?
Yeah.
The walls are insulated, soundproof.
Someone really set this up.
The question is, who?
You didn't happen to see who was driving the forklift?
No, I couldn't see a thing.
Pete, do you remember what happened seven years ago today?
Yeah. You and I first met.
Yeah, chasing Murdoc.
- Murdoc? - Yeah.
He's dead.
He got killed when that building collapsed.
The body was never found.
And Murdoc's just the kind to set these neat, perfect little traps.
That was seven years ago. In the past.
The man is dead. Dead!
Is he?
Thornton, MacGyver,
do you remember what Mark Twain once said?
"The reports of my death are greatly exaggerated."
Well, Murdoc, looks like I was wrong.
You obviously have plans for us, what are they?
Guess.
A little trip?
Chance to get reacquainted?
Exactly, MacGyver, the three of us together again.
For the next hour anyway.
Then what?
Oh, and then it's over.
Over.
I can guess what he's got in mind for us.
It's getting close in here.
Yeah, he wants us to sweat first.
Yeah, first, before he kills us.
Hey, Pete, look.
Same make, model and year as Jack's old cab.
He really set this up with all the trimmings, didn't he?
Happy anniversary.
Looks like we're right back where we were seven years ago.
Yeah. I remember.
Sixth and Bowdray.
It was the first fare of the day.
And all I was trying to do was keep Jack Dalton's taxicab in business.
You free?
You bet.
Where you headed?
South and Third, please. And I'm in a hurry.
Emergency?
Just business.
Please, step on it,
won't you, Jack?
Actually, it's MacGyver at your service, ma'am.
Uh, Miss... uh...
Sara.
Sara.
South and Third, coming up.
It's just ahead.
Stop here.
You sure this is where you want to be dropped off?
I'll be fine.
Okay, 3.50.
Keep the change.
Good luck, Sara.
Hold it!
Sara! Look out!
I don't know who you are, jocko, but stay out of this.
- All right, don't shoot. - Put a cork in it.
Okay, you'll get no trouble from me.
No!
Get off me!
All right.
You are pushing it, kid.
Get in the cab.
- Move, move. - I'm going.
In the cab.
Go.
I'm on my way.
We are on my way.
Follow that car. Move. Move.
Yes, sir.
Come on. Step on it.
I hope it's not too uncomfortable
for you back there, gentlemen.
Not to worry, we'll live.
I seriously doubt that, Thornton.
Come on, Pete.
Start digging into this old wreck, see if there's anything useful.
In this junk heap?
It's the only heap we've got.
Yeah, I guess you're right.
You know, you wouldn't even be here now
if you hadn't been driving Jack's cab in the first place.
Yeah, that's right.
Me driving Jack's cab
and you waving your gun in my face.
All right, now slow down.
Just keep that car in sight.
This hack stands out like a sore thumb.
What were you trying to do back there, be a hero?
I figured the lady needed help.
That lady is a top level world-class assassin named Murdoc,
whom I've been investigating for the past six months.
- You're a cop. - A cop?
Do I look like a cop?
Yeah.
I'm a U.S. government agent. DXS.
What?
Department of External Services.
Oh, well, listen,
I'm sorry I messed you up back there with Murdoc.
I thought she was being mugged.
Well, you had no way of knowing the truth so you jumped in.
Got yourself in over your head this time, kid.
Name's MacGyver.
Pete Thornton.
It looks like Murdoc is turning.
Careful.
Don't get too close.
Don't!
Bazookas.
I had this arranged just in case.
And you cooperated so beautifully.
She's a man.
He's a killer.
The bazooka is a very effective weapon.
Move your cab one inch, and they'll blow it.
Try to get out
and they'll blow it.
Why didn't you tell me?
I operate on a need-to-know basis.
I guess you need to know.
Murdoc is an international terrorist,
specializes in disguises.
He's half chameleon, half rattlesnake.
When he makes a hit,
he always takes a picture of his victim...
dying.
Keeping an album, is he?
No. One shot goes to whoever paid for the hit as proof,
and a copy to us -- the DXS -- just for fun.
And this is who I chose to help?
That's right.
Sorry I got you into this, kid.
So am I.
So what do we do?
Well, I'll tell you,
I haven't got a clue.
What are you doing?
Taking off my shoelaces.
Your shoelaces?
I got an idea.
Listen, don't panic.
Don't try anything funny, hear me?
I feel I've gotten to know you over the past five years, Peter.
May I call you Peter?
Just keep smiling for the camera.
It's just that I do feel as if
we should be on a first name basis.
Be my guest.
It's been such an interesting chess match.
Myself against all the forces of the DXS.
Especially the redoubtable Peter Thornton.
A lasso?
- Am I boring you, Peter? - For roping the gas pedal?
I'm fascinated. Keep talking.
Rope the gas pedal? You're crazy.
Just keep him interested.
Listen, Murdoc, it's not over.
Oh, but it is.
Do you remember Lisbon?
Yeah, I almost had you.
Almost.
But in this game that we play, close does not count.
For you it's a game, I'm dead serious.
Oh, I'm sure you are, Peter,
I'm sure you are.
Perhaps that's your biggest problem, a total absence of humor.
What're you gonna do with a wrench?
I need something to guide the shoelace.
I'm sure you'll tell us.
It means that when I win, you lose.
And you have lost.
Hand me that paper clip, will you?
What now?
We're stretching this guy to the limit.
...Peter, I shall take special care
of developing your photograph.
Maybe I can appeal to his sense of justice.
Murdoc, remember, I did try to help you.
Yes, you did.
It's a little unfair that a simple bystander
has to become an innocent pawn in this game.
A monkey wrench and a paper clip?
Yeah, I want to reverse the direction of force
I'm going to put on this shoelace.
...but we live in difficult times
and good Samaritans die young.
If it's any solace,
you will be immortalized in my files,
along with Peter.
You won't be forgotten, only you will be dead.
This camera and the motor drive are activated by the explosion
when the bazooka fires.
I'll save these shots for my private collection.
Now I get it.
You're replacing the push on the gas pedal
with a pull on that door handle.
You got it.
Five minutes.
I'll contact you about the pictures later.
Yes, sir.
He's gone.
That cuts the odds.
Not enough for my blood.
Look, let me try my idea first, please.
But that's nuts.
We're gonna gamble on a homemade cruise control?
It's scientifically sound.
As I open the door,
the shoelace pulls through the steering wheel
down to the paper clip.
That reverses the direction of pull and yanks down the gas pedal.
Cab takes off, we jump out.
Why don't we just blow them away now?
Murdoc said five minutes and that's what they get.
Say when.
Now.
Stay put!
It worked!
How 'bout that?
You're okay, kid.
What's that?
Duct tape.
Real handy stuff.
Carry it with me all the time.
Just in case you run into a bazooka or two?
Or whatever.
Well, I guess I owe you one.
No, you owe Jack Dalton one.
Who's he?
Jack Dalton, a friend of mine.
And he owns that...
owned that vehicle.
So you owe him one taxicab
and one humongous explanation.
What kind of shape is Dalton in?
Couple of broken legs,
but he'll be worse when he hears about his cab.
Hey, MacGyver, just in time.
What does this look like?
A little boy's room.
Wrongo. The dawn of a new age.
Jack Dalton studies the science of flight.
Don't you think "Fly By Night" would look better on a plane than a cab?
Well... no.
Well, I figure I'd sell the cab,
put the money down on a new pair of wings.
Before you know it, I'm hiring stewardesses.
This could be big, MacGyver.
Jack, about selling the cab...
This is Mr. Pete Thornton.
A buyer.
Ooh-hoo, you read my mind.
Mr. Thornton, have I got a cab for you.
MacGyver's been driving it, good buddy that he is.
He can testify to what a sweet road machine you'll be getting.
Yeah, uh, listen, what happened to you?
Oh, a little vehicular mishap. Not in the cab.
Jack roller-skated off the Santa Monica Pier
looking at a blonde.
Yeah, but I got her number and when I get outta here...
But let's stick to business, Mr. Thornton.
Now we're talking big bucks here,
but she's worth it, it's a great cab.
Sturdy, durable, can withstand anything.
Not... anything.
Shh, I'm talking.
Uh, Mr. Dalton, I represent a company which pursues
a wide variety of, uh, pursuits.
I think I hear profits here. Keep talking.
Well, actually, somebody engaged
in our temporary employ borrowed your cab.
Borrowed it?
Yeah.
You guys don't have it?
Not at the present.
MacGyver, is this true?
Yeah, it's true.
Mr. Thornton, would you mind if my buddy and I
played a little one-on-one for a minute?
No, uh, why don't I wait outside?
- What? - No, I'll be right outside.
Where, where are you going? You said you'd be here.
No.
MacGyver, this is me.
This is Jack, this is your buddy.
Give it to me straight.
You know how important my cab is to me. It's my future.
You scratched it, didn't you?
Well, no, not exactly.
Okay, a dent. You put a dent in it.
Listen, Jack...
I can live with a dent. Tell me it's a dent.
It's a little more than a dent.
Mr. Thornton and I were riding in your cab
chasing this woman who was actually a man
who had a guy with a bazooka waiting
and he blew up your cab.
Hold it. Run that back. Run that by me again.
Um, Mr. Thornton and I were riding in your cab
and we're chasing this woman...
No, no, just the last part.
Two guys with bazookas blew up your cab.
They blew up my cab with a bazooka.
Two bazookas.
But I can explain.
Bazookas?
You can explain bazookas?
You cannot explain bazookas!
Jack?
- You all right? - Ow! My arm!
Well, what happened?
- What did you say to him? - My arm!
Doctor says with a little luck Jack's busted arm
ought to be healed by the time he can walk again.
Well, I bet that didn't exactly cheer him up.
Listen, I called the office.
You give us the ownership and registration papers,
we'll pay for the cab.
All right, all papers are back at Jack's place.
I'm staying there while he's laid up.
Oh, you should be able to keep using that apartment
at least for another month.
He's got an apartment in an office building?
Not exactly in it... under it.
Not much of a view, but it's quiet,
and the neighbors don't bother you.
It's kinda homey.
Homey? It's a dungeon.
You call this an apartment?
Well, yeah, sort of.
See, Jack rented some storage space for his truck
a few years ago and he's kind of expanded his territory.
He is not a neat person.
No, but he's a good friend.
And I figure I can clean the place up a little bit when I get some spare time.
You mean when you're not driving his cab?
Yeah. Let me get those papers for you.
You are a do-gooder, MacGyver.
90% of the people in the world are smart.
They see trouble coming, they duck and run.
10% are like you -- can't resist cleaning up the mess.
Here are those papers.
Don't move.
So how long you figure it'll be...?
Why? What? What?
Didn't you hear a click when you sat down?
That click...
like the kind you hear before... kaboom?
It's probably a low-powered charge specially designed.
It's only gonna destroy the bed.
What about the guy on it?
Yeah, that, too.
Oh, boy.
Nice job.
Very clever.
Any attempt to defuse it is gonna blow it.
Will you stop that?
It's nice to hear all this professional appreciation,
but I happen to be the target.
Easy. Stay cool, MacGyver.
The important thing to remember is that with a charge like this,
it blows almost completely straight up.
Oh.
All right, give me your hand.
Give me your hand.
It's coming.
Now.
Huh?
Now!
You all right?
Fine.
Murdoc won't be happy when he finds out he only blew up the bed.
Neither will Jack.
What is it?
What's the matter?
Oh...
Guess it went a little sideways, huh?
Yeah. Thanks.
Suppose that comes in pretty handy in your line of work.
What with disguises and stuff.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Listen, MacGyver.
Anybody who can use a paper clip, a pair of shoelaces
and a rusty monkey wrench to take out two bazookas
could be very useful in taking Murdoc.
Help me.
- You're serious, aren't you? - Yeah.
Forget it.
The taxi ride was it.
I quit the volunteer business.
MacGyver, he is going to try to kill you either way.
Now you cooperate and maybe we'll take him.
What do you say?
Partners.
We're making extraordinarily good time, gentlemen.
I'd say half way home.
He's really full of himself, isn't he?
Well, he was confident seven years ago, too.
Good point.
Found something.
Oh, yeah.
Spare pantyhose for when he's Sara.
Well, hang on to them. They might come in handy.
Not my size.
Well, if this engine runs at all, we'll have a power source.
But with no engine, I guess... we don't.
No, we don't.
I am getting bored with this box.
You know, I remember negotiating with Jack
about the price of his cab.
Right now I would give everything I own
for an engine in this one so we could
crash out of this place!
Hey, Pete, Pete, Pete, come on, come on.
Take it easy, guy, take it easy.
Come on.
I know you don't like to be cooped up like this,
but we're gonna get out, I promise you.
Of course, then we're going to have to tell Jack
the whole story, like we did seven years ago.
Remember what that was like?
You're gonna pay for my cab?
Full current value.
But let's remember, it's a vehicle that is...
Unique.
Custom interior.
Do you know what a custom paint job costs?
Well, I'll tell you. 18 coats, hand-rubbed lacquer.
The base paint metallic. The best.
A new engine...
Jack...
I repainted your cab.
He's got honesty the way some people have diseases.
Incurable.
Yeah, he does.
That's why he made us promise to pay for your cab.
What about my fuzzy dice?
Everything.
They're gonna pay for everything, Jack.
- Including the bed. - Good.
Bed?
Bed? What bed?
Your bed. The one in your apartment.
Murdoc rigged it.
See, when I sat on your bed, it blew up.
My bed blew up?
He blew up my bed?
Well, who is this guy? Why is he after me?
You're taking this pretty hard.
Well, how do you want me to take it, lying down?
MacGyver, you gotta get me outta here.
I'm in a bed. This could blow up any second.
Mr. Dalton, you are much better off here than on the outside.
Besides, Murdoc doesn't want you, he's after MacGyver.
He can have him.
I hang around with you anymore, this guy Murdoc'll total my apartment.
I'll be sleeping at the Midnight Mission.
You're kinda bitter, aren't you?
Me? Oh, no.
This is the best day of my life.
Probably the last.
I brought you a treat, Mr. Dalton.
Jell-O and chocolate pudding.
Oh, yum.
If you're a good boy and take all your pills,
I'll call the orderly and order a nice long sponge bath.
Now!
Please! I've only got one arm left! Ow!
Ow!
I've checked Harbison Street and all the alleys.
All clear this side.
Roger, Lincoln 42.
Blasting process starting now. Maintain radio silence.
Lincoln 42, roger.
Hey, you!
This is a demolition zone!
They're going to blow that building!
What's going on?
Some nut just ran into the building. They're going to blow it.
I'll try and stop them.
Get back!
Come on. Come on!
Do you remember the day you forced me into the demolition zone?
Do you remember?
Well, if you don't, don't worry.
You're going to experience it.
You know, I worked on Murdoc's file for a long time
before I finally caught up with him.
We should have checked that building seven years ago.
Pete, it was checked.
Weshould have checked it!
We're off the pavement.
Sounds like he's unhitching the trailer.
I know you've had a long dull ride, but it is over.
Come on, we gotta think of something.
We gotta think of something.
I'm thinking, Pete. I'm thinking.
Slightly curious, gentlemen?
Shut up!
Shut up! Shut up!
Be patient. I was.
That was a dumb thing to do, wasn't it?
Maybe.
Think you'd feel any better?
- Huh? - Yeah, I do.
Done.
Last stop, gentlemen, and last chance.
So I shall be crystal clear.
I have just packed 12 pounds of dynamite on and beneath you,
enough to blow, say, a... a good-sized building.
And more than enough for a truck trailer.
So now's your time to make peace.
To be precise...
...seven minutes
to hell.
Not a lot of time.
No, not a lot. Hold this, will you?
Any ideas?
Ah, well, nothing solid yet.
Why are you smiling like that?
I know that look.
I've never been able to figure out how your mind works,
but I know when it works.
Oh, great -- an old oil can, an old car,
an old pair of pantyhose and an old battery.
I know I'm happy.
Don't forget the exhaust pipe.
My cup runneth over.
Well, the exhaust is rusty iron.
That oil can is aluminum,
and that battery's still got some acid in it.
How could I forget that?
Give me a hand, will you?
You have two and a half minutes and counting.
Time to make peace with yourselves.
It's your last chance.
- Still got those pantyhose? - Yeah, right here.
I want you to soak them in oil. It's a key part of our plan.
Plan? I wasn't sure we had a plan.
- Reassure me, will you? - Pantyhose -- soak them.
You know what I'm thinking about?
A paper clip, pair of shoelaces,
two pros with bazookas who bit the dust.
So I do have a measure of faith.
Better hustle, Pete.
1:43 to go.
It will be a memorable photograph.
Do I want to know what it is we're making?
A sort of a bomb.
How big a bomb?
Well, a pretty good one.
See, the ferric oxide in the aluminum shavings
should generate enough heat to explode the battery.
And when it blows, it sets off the dynamite
that Murdoc put under the trailer.
You know what we'll be?
Huh?
- Acid rain. - No.
Dynamite's stable.
Usually.
It's all we got, Pete.
All right, Pete, let's go!
We're gonna need our fuse now.
Ah, the old duct tape, huh?
Never leave home without it.
48 seconds.
Pete, I don't know what's going to happen here,
so you better take cover.
It's going to work.
- Still... - Yeah.
No!
He's got dynamite! It's gonna blow!
He's dead.
He could have gotten out.
There was time.
The whole thing blew up.
He's dead.
Maybe.
Boy, I've got a bump on my head
from when we went out the back of the trailer.
It still hurts.
Well, I haven't got much insulation up there.
Yeah, Pete, I remember when you used to wear a hairpiece.
Why'd you stop wearing that?
I, uh, grew out of it.
Hey, guys!
Hey.
Wow, that's how I felt when I got my first "Dear John" letter.
Hey, I'm sorry. I apologize.
For what?
I got your note, but, hey,
me get up at sunrise on a Sunday morning
to come to a reunion at a junkyard?
You got a note to come out here?
Come on, Pete, you sent it.
Anyway...
it took me forever to find the lilies you asked for,
after I woke up, around noon or a little later.
The idea sounds like a kick, where's the party?
Uh, actually, it's over.
Oh, no. You mean you guys been sitting around waiting
since 8:00 this morning?
No, no, not all that time.
We, uh...
we went on a field trip with a friend.
Well, I'd like to hear all about it, but first...
Well, I may have missed all the fun,
but I want a picture for old time's sake.
Remember who brought us together in the first place?
That maniac Murdoc?
Dead and buried these seven years.
Hold it. Here it comes.
Can't find what you're looking for?
Get subtitles in any language from opensubtitles.com, and translate them here.