Traitor Part 2 -- Chapter 11
Title: Traitor
Author: rubygirl29
Rating: Anywhere from PG to NC17. Appropriate warnings will be given on chapters.
Genre: Slash, Sheppard/Dex, Action/Adventure, H/C
Universe: Stargate Atlantis
Summary: Six months after “Outcast”, John and Ronon are called back to Earth to aid in the investigation of who is responsible for Project Archetype.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, much to my dismay and disappointment.
Traitor Part 2
Richard Woolsey paced the conference room at SGC. It was his tenth circuit; he found himself incapable of not counting despite the dire circumstances. He was awaiting the arrival of General Landry and the delegates of the IOA. He had reached the twelfth circuit when he heard loud voices from the corridor. General Landry came into the room followed closely by the Russian delegate, Colonel Dmitri Faustin.
“What do you mean you cannot locate Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay? Do they not have subcutaneous transmitters that you can use?” Faustin demanded.
“The Daedalus is on an emergency mission.”
“You must have tracking technology available to you.”
Landry threw up his hands. “Yes. But their transmitters have been either damaged, removed, or deactivated.”
“Deactivated?”
“It's happened before. We are doing all we can to remedy the situation.”
“It does not seem as if you are particularly interested in --”
“Oh, I am very interested in their welfare and in their whereabouts. But I don’t have to explain more to you than that.”
Woolsey decided it was time to step in. As a diplomat, it was his duty, In addition, he respected Landry, and didn’t trust Faustin. The Russians were known to have an interest in Atlantis and Woolsey wasn’t about to give that prize up without a fight. “General Faustin ... please. If General Landry says that he is doing all that can be done, then you will have to accept it. Arguing is not going to help us in our current situation.”
“What should we be doing?” Faustin asked. “Waiting for the Trust to crack our security systems and take over SGC?”
“Is that what you believe is happening?” Woolsey asked.
“It is logical to assume so.”
Landry gave a derisive snort. “Logic doesn’t work so well around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Perhaps it is time that it did,” Faustin looked at Woolsey. “I will bring this matter before the IOA.”
“Go ahead,” Landry growled. “When my men stop laying their lives on the line to keep the galaxy safe, you’ll see exactly how vital their support and willingness to do the job are to the Stargate program.”
“Gentleman!” Woolsey spoke up. “Please, the matter at hand isn’t control of the Stargate program, it is dealing with a threat that has been engineered by the Gou’ald, and further refined by very human scientists. Something has to be done to locate Colonel Sheppard, Ronon and Dr. McKay.”
Landry sighed. “I’ll get Bill Lee on it. He was able to track the HFR, surely he can locate our lost sheep.”
“Is that is all you can do?”
“For now, yes. Excuse me, Colonel Faustin. If you want results, you'll have to let me do my job. I'm sure there is some pressing matter to occupy your time.”
Landry did a military turn leaving Woolsey and Faustin to deal with each other. Faustin uttered a Russian epithet and gave Woolsey a sneer. “I trust you will deal with this chain of command issue, Mr. Woolsey. If not, then perhaps some other options must be presented to the panel.” He followed Landry's lead and left the room.
Woolsey didn't want to get into a pissing match with the Russians at this point. They were already extremely sensitive about the Antarctic gate and the Ancient Weapons Platform. With the Ori threatening earth, the last thing they needed was for the Russians to renege on their agreement to allow the USAF control of the base.
Woolsey rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache - one that a bottle of aspirin wouldn't cure.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Dmitri Faustin left the Cheyenne Mountain complex and drove to Colorado Springs. He went into a Starbucks and ordered a double espresso, sat at a table and took out his cell phone. He selected a number and waited. He spoke a few words of Russian to the party on the other end of the call, then closed his phone and finished his espresso. Ten minutes later, he was joined by a man wearing a dark suit. They got up and left the cafe.
Agent Barrett, sitting in a unobtrusive corner, spoke into his lapel mike. “Faustin met another man and they're on the move. Yes, sir. I tagged his car while he was waiting for his coffee. You should be able to track him, no problem. I'm heading back to SGC, now, sir.”
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Sheppard felt like he was being watched. He let himself drift awake, instinctively assessing the threat level and decided it was negligible. He opened his eyes. Ronon wasn't next to him, though Sheppard distinctly remembered falling asleep with him sitting on the edge of the bed. He turned his head toward the bedside chair, closed his eyes and groaned. “Elise.”
“Come on, John. I saved your life. At least be civil to me.”
“Just don't touch me, okay? I'm fine.”
“Are you? You're temperature is slightly elevated, your blood counts are low, and you look like death warmed over. That's not fine in my book.” She set a cool hand on his head. “You should be in the hospital getting IV antibiotics and a blood transfusion.”
“I can't do that,” John said.
“National security?”
“Yeah. Sure. It's as good an explanation as I can give you, okay?”
“God, you're stubborn.” She pulled out her bag and took out a hypodermic and a small vial. “I'm giving you a different antibiotic. If this doesn't knock out the infection, you could be in serious trouble.”
“I'll be fine.”
“Turn over.”
“What?”
“The shot goes in the hip.”
“Crap.” But he did what she said. Arguing with Elise would just use up energy he couldn't afford right now. “Ouch!”
“Don't be such a baby. You've been hurt a lot worse.” She waited as he tugged up his pants. “These are iron pills. Take them with plenty of water. They aren't a substitute for a transfusion, but they'll help build up your counts. That's all I can do short of having you dragged off to the ER in restraints, and somehow, I don't think Ronon would let me do that.”
“Probably not.” John gave her a weak smile. “Are you done? Can I get up now?”
She sighed. “Yes. Just give yourself another twelve hours to recuperate, please. And if you don't feel better get to a hospital. I don't care if it's here or on Mars.”
He looked faintly alarmed. “Mars? What has Dave been telling you?”
“Nothing. It was just an expression. What did you think I meant?”
“Forget it. I'm still half-asleep.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I need to eat.”
“Yes, you do.” She packed up her things. “Don't make me come back out here.”
“Dave called you. Maybe he's got an ulterior motive.” To his surprise, she blushed.
“We're divorced.”
“Divorced isn't dead. Maybe there's a reason neither of you remarried.”
“You really are delirious.”
“Just saying ...” He stood, and the room stayed steady under his feet. “Thanks, Elise.”
“Wow, I'm impressed. Gratitude from John Sheppard. Never thought I'd see the day.”
“Never say never.” He thought of Ava and wondered if McKay and Lee had recovered her consciousness. “C'mon, you can at least walk me to the kitchen to make sure I don't keel over.” She came as far as the front door. “Goodbye, John.” She touched his arm. “Remember what I said. Dave can't take another loss.”
John thought that dying from an infection was the least of his worries, but he just nodded. “I will.” He locked the front door behind Elise and armed the security lock before making his way to the kitchen.
To his surprise, or maybe not so much to his surprise, Ronon was the only person at the table. For the first time, John realized it was after dark. He'd slept for five hours. “Where are Dave and McKay?” he asked.
“Hey.” Ronon greeted him, shoved a chair away from the table with his foot, so John could sit. “Sleeping. It's late.”
“Yeah. I noticed. Any news?”
“No. McKay disabled our transmitters.”
“Good. I meant to ask him about that. I didn't want to be beamed out of here suddenly if the Daedalus or the Odyssey show up. What's for dinner?”
Ronon looked down at his plate, thinking. “Something. Lasag --”
“Lasagna,” Sheppard supplied. “It's from a country called Italy. Great food and wine. Dave's cook is Italian.”
“It's good,” Ronon said. He got up. “Stay there,” he ordered. “I'll get it.” He rose and dished out a serving. “Don’t get used to this,” he said as he put it in front of Sheppard. He sliced bread and spread it with butter.
“I’ll try not to.” But they grinned at each other, and John ate with more relish than he had in several days. “I probably didn’t even need that shot Elise gave me.”
“As long as it gets you back on your feet, I don’t care if she gives you ten shots you don’t need.”
“What? Are you feeling the ‘burden of command?’”
“Right.” He gave Sheppard a roll of his eyes. “That must be it.”
John looked down at his food, trying to find the words he wanted. “Listen, Ronon. What you did -- what you’ve done for me -- I owe you.”
“That’s not part of our deal.”
“What deal? Every time something happens you bring that up.”
“The deal is, we’re in this together. There is no ‘owe’, no payment needed. Just you and me.”
John’s lasagna seemed suddenly hard to swallow. He was saved by the arrival of McKay, computer in hand. He cleared his throat. “Rodney.”
“I smelled food.” He went to the stove and helped himself to a plate of pasta. “And Dave and I may have found something.”
“Something? Good, bad, indifferent?”
“Different, and disturbing.”
“Like that's a change ...” John glanced at Ronon, who was fingering the grip of his gun, as he often did when listening intently to someone. “Okay, spill it.”
“We've been so busy looking at the Goa'uld and the IOA, that we've overlooked something much more simple and basic.”
“What?”
“Money.” Dave stood in the doorway. “I found the paper trail. I haven't ferreted out its exact source, but I'm close. TrustSource is funded through an agency called the FSAC - the Financial Securities Access Committee.”
“Never heard of them.”
“I have. They provided funding for some of the energy and utilities projects I've been working on with STOP.” Dave went over to the stove.
“STOP?” Rodney snorted. “I don't want to hear you complain about Canadian acronyms again.”
“Stop Terrorism Oversight Project - it's not pertinent to this other than it's how I met Jack O'Neill.”
“So, how does this affect us?” Ronon, ever direct, asked.
Dave sighed and sat down with a dish of lasagna. “The FSAC also funnels money into top secret projects such as the Stargate Program and Project --”
“Archetype.” John slid down in his chair. “And that's the tie with nanites, Stargate Command, the IOA and TrustSource.”
“Bingo.” McKay snapped his fingers.
“What?” Ronon looked to John.
“Bull's eye,” he translated into a term that meant something to Ronon. “What's next?”
“Finding out who is directing the money for the FSAC.”
“Not the Trust?”
“I doubt it. I think we need to call O'Neill again.”
“Great. He loves that.”
“How about Landry or Mr. Woolsey?” Ronon asked.
“Because they're too close to us. At least we can move Caldwell lower on our list of suspects.”
“Who else knew where we were going?”
“Bill Lee.”
Rodney laughed. “Come on, Sheppard. Lee isn't the kind of guy who would deliberately betray any of us. He's not greedy and he's - as much as it pains me to say it - he's too smart. Not nearly as smart as I am, or Sam Carter, but really good at what he does - all that virtual environment stuff.”
“I was nearly killed in that virtual environment.”
“I was right there in the room with you. Lee didn't do it. Somebody hacked his system. If I could get into it, I'd be able to find the point of the attack and trace it.”
John sighed. “Okay, pack your bags and head back to SGC.”
“But you --” McKay's concern showed on his face.
“I'm fine, Rodney. We need to find out who hacked Lee's system and if they have ties to the FSAC, Archetype, or any of the other suspects, even SGC.”
“Right. Keep in touch.”
“You, too. Just be sure it's secure.”
“I know.” Rodney paused in the doorway. “Be careful.” Dave was already on the phone to the airport. Rodney looked at Ronon. “Watch out for him.”
Ronon, who usually brushed off McKay's fears, didn't this time. “He'll be safe,” he promised. He and Dave left the kitchen and John and Ronon were alone once more.
“We're one step closer,” John said.
“One step closer?”
He reached over the table and Ronon clasped his hand. “One step closer to home.”
Ronon sighed. “Sounds good. But isn’t this your home?”
John shook his head. “Not for a long time.” His thumb moved across Ronon’s hand. “I
think we’ve both found our home.”
Chapter 12
Chapter 11
Author: rubygirl29
Rating: Anywhere from PG to NC17. Appropriate warnings will be given on chapters.
Genre: Slash, Sheppard/Dex, Action/Adventure, H/C
Universe: Stargate Atlantis
Summary: Six months after “Outcast”, John and Ronon are called back to Earth to aid in the investigation of who is responsible for Project Archetype.
Disclaimer: I don't own them, much to my dismay and disappointment.
Traitor Part 2
Richard Woolsey paced the conference room at SGC. It was his tenth circuit; he found himself incapable of not counting despite the dire circumstances. He was awaiting the arrival of General Landry and the delegates of the IOA. He had reached the twelfth circuit when he heard loud voices from the corridor. General Landry came into the room followed closely by the Russian delegate, Colonel Dmitri Faustin.
“What do you mean you cannot locate Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay? Do they not have subcutaneous transmitters that you can use?” Faustin demanded.
“The Daedalus is on an emergency mission.”
“You must have tracking technology available to you.”
Landry threw up his hands. “Yes. But their transmitters have been either damaged, removed, or deactivated.”
“Deactivated?”
“It's happened before. We are doing all we can to remedy the situation.”
“It does not seem as if you are particularly interested in --”
“Oh, I am very interested in their welfare and in their whereabouts. But I don’t have to explain more to you than that.”
Woolsey decided it was time to step in. As a diplomat, it was his duty, In addition, he respected Landry, and didn’t trust Faustin. The Russians were known to have an interest in Atlantis and Woolsey wasn’t about to give that prize up without a fight. “General Faustin ... please. If General Landry says that he is doing all that can be done, then you will have to accept it. Arguing is not going to help us in our current situation.”
“What should we be doing?” Faustin asked. “Waiting for the Trust to crack our security systems and take over SGC?”
“Is that what you believe is happening?” Woolsey asked.
“It is logical to assume so.”
Landry gave a derisive snort. “Logic doesn’t work so well around here, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Perhaps it is time that it did,” Faustin looked at Woolsey. “I will bring this matter before the IOA.”
“Go ahead,” Landry growled. “When my men stop laying their lives on the line to keep the galaxy safe, you’ll see exactly how vital their support and willingness to do the job are to the Stargate program.”
“Gentleman!” Woolsey spoke up. “Please, the matter at hand isn’t control of the Stargate program, it is dealing with a threat that has been engineered by the Gou’ald, and further refined by very human scientists. Something has to be done to locate Colonel Sheppard, Ronon and Dr. McKay.”
Landry sighed. “I’ll get Bill Lee on it. He was able to track the HFR, surely he can locate our lost sheep.”
“Is that is all you can do?”
“For now, yes. Excuse me, Colonel Faustin. If you want results, you'll have to let me do my job. I'm sure there is some pressing matter to occupy your time.”
Landry did a military turn leaving Woolsey and Faustin to deal with each other. Faustin uttered a Russian epithet and gave Woolsey a sneer. “I trust you will deal with this chain of command issue, Mr. Woolsey. If not, then perhaps some other options must be presented to the panel.” He followed Landry's lead and left the room.
Woolsey didn't want to get into a pissing match with the Russians at this point. They were already extremely sensitive about the Antarctic gate and the Ancient Weapons Platform. With the Ori threatening earth, the last thing they needed was for the Russians to renege on their agreement to allow the USAF control of the base.
Woolsey rubbed his forehead. He was getting a headache - one that a bottle of aspirin wouldn't cure.
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Dmitri Faustin left the Cheyenne Mountain complex and drove to Colorado Springs. He went into a Starbucks and ordered a double espresso, sat at a table and took out his cell phone. He selected a number and waited. He spoke a few words of Russian to the party on the other end of the call, then closed his phone and finished his espresso. Ten minutes later, he was joined by a man wearing a dark suit. They got up and left the cafe.
Agent Barrett, sitting in a unobtrusive corner, spoke into his lapel mike. “Faustin met another man and they're on the move. Yes, sir. I tagged his car while he was waiting for his coffee. You should be able to track him, no problem. I'm heading back to SGC, now, sir.”
^*^*^*^*^*^*^
Sheppard felt like he was being watched. He let himself drift awake, instinctively assessing the threat level and decided it was negligible. He opened his eyes. Ronon wasn't next to him, though Sheppard distinctly remembered falling asleep with him sitting on the edge of the bed. He turned his head toward the bedside chair, closed his eyes and groaned. “Elise.”
“Come on, John. I saved your life. At least be civil to me.”
“Just don't touch me, okay? I'm fine.”
“Are you? You're temperature is slightly elevated, your blood counts are low, and you look like death warmed over. That's not fine in my book.” She set a cool hand on his head. “You should be in the hospital getting IV antibiotics and a blood transfusion.”
“I can't do that,” John said.
“National security?”
“Yeah. Sure. It's as good an explanation as I can give you, okay?”
“God, you're stubborn.” She pulled out her bag and took out a hypodermic and a small vial. “I'm giving you a different antibiotic. If this doesn't knock out the infection, you could be in serious trouble.”
“I'll be fine.”
“Turn over.”
“What?”
“The shot goes in the hip.”
“Crap.” But he did what she said. Arguing with Elise would just use up energy he couldn't afford right now. “Ouch!”
“Don't be such a baby. You've been hurt a lot worse.” She waited as he tugged up his pants. “These are iron pills. Take them with plenty of water. They aren't a substitute for a transfusion, but they'll help build up your counts. That's all I can do short of having you dragged off to the ER in restraints, and somehow, I don't think Ronon would let me do that.”
“Probably not.” John gave her a weak smile. “Are you done? Can I get up now?”
She sighed. “Yes. Just give yourself another twelve hours to recuperate, please. And if you don't feel better get to a hospital. I don't care if it's here or on Mars.”
He looked faintly alarmed. “Mars? What has Dave been telling you?”
“Nothing. It was just an expression. What did you think I meant?”
“Forget it. I'm still half-asleep.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I need to eat.”
“Yes, you do.” She packed up her things. “Don't make me come back out here.”
“Dave called you. Maybe he's got an ulterior motive.” To his surprise, she blushed.
“We're divorced.”
“Divorced isn't dead. Maybe there's a reason neither of you remarried.”
“You really are delirious.”
“Just saying ...” He stood, and the room stayed steady under his feet. “Thanks, Elise.”
“Wow, I'm impressed. Gratitude from John Sheppard. Never thought I'd see the day.”
“Never say never.” He thought of Ava and wondered if McKay and Lee had recovered her consciousness. “C'mon, you can at least walk me to the kitchen to make sure I don't keel over.” She came as far as the front door. “Goodbye, John.” She touched his arm. “Remember what I said. Dave can't take another loss.”
John thought that dying from an infection was the least of his worries, but he just nodded. “I will.” He locked the front door behind Elise and armed the security lock before making his way to the kitchen.
To his surprise, or maybe not so much to his surprise, Ronon was the only person at the table. For the first time, John realized it was after dark. He'd slept for five hours. “Where are Dave and McKay?” he asked.
“Hey.” Ronon greeted him, shoved a chair away from the table with his foot, so John could sit. “Sleeping. It's late.”
“Yeah. I noticed. Any news?”
“No. McKay disabled our transmitters.”
“Good. I meant to ask him about that. I didn't want to be beamed out of here suddenly if the Daedalus or the Odyssey show up. What's for dinner?”
Ronon looked down at his plate, thinking. “Something. Lasag --”
“Lasagna,” Sheppard supplied. “It's from a country called Italy. Great food and wine. Dave's cook is Italian.”
“It's good,” Ronon said. He got up. “Stay there,” he ordered. “I'll get it.” He rose and dished out a serving. “Don’t get used to this,” he said as he put it in front of Sheppard. He sliced bread and spread it with butter.
“I’ll try not to.” But they grinned at each other, and John ate with more relish than he had in several days. “I probably didn’t even need that shot Elise gave me.”
“As long as it gets you back on your feet, I don’t care if she gives you ten shots you don’t need.”
“What? Are you feeling the ‘burden of command?’”
“Right.” He gave Sheppard a roll of his eyes. “That must be it.”
John looked down at his food, trying to find the words he wanted. “Listen, Ronon. What you did -- what you’ve done for me -- I owe you.”
“That’s not part of our deal.”
“What deal? Every time something happens you bring that up.”
“The deal is, we’re in this together. There is no ‘owe’, no payment needed. Just you and me.”
John’s lasagna seemed suddenly hard to swallow. He was saved by the arrival of McKay, computer in hand. He cleared his throat. “Rodney.”
“I smelled food.” He went to the stove and helped himself to a plate of pasta. “And Dave and I may have found something.”
“Something? Good, bad, indifferent?”
“Different, and disturbing.”
“Like that's a change ...” John glanced at Ronon, who was fingering the grip of his gun, as he often did when listening intently to someone. “Okay, spill it.”
“We've been so busy looking at the Goa'uld and the IOA, that we've overlooked something much more simple and basic.”
“What?”
“Money.” Dave stood in the doorway. “I found the paper trail. I haven't ferreted out its exact source, but I'm close. TrustSource is funded through an agency called the FSAC - the Financial Securities Access Committee.”
“Never heard of them.”
“I have. They provided funding for some of the energy and utilities projects I've been working on with STOP.” Dave went over to the stove.
“STOP?” Rodney snorted. “I don't want to hear you complain about Canadian acronyms again.”
“Stop Terrorism Oversight Project - it's not pertinent to this other than it's how I met Jack O'Neill.”
“So, how does this affect us?” Ronon, ever direct, asked.
Dave sighed and sat down with a dish of lasagna. “The FSAC also funnels money into top secret projects such as the Stargate Program and Project --”
“Archetype.” John slid down in his chair. “And that's the tie with nanites, Stargate Command, the IOA and TrustSource.”
“Bingo.” McKay snapped his fingers.
“What?” Ronon looked to John.
“Bull's eye,” he translated into a term that meant something to Ronon. “What's next?”
“Finding out who is directing the money for the FSAC.”
“Not the Trust?”
“I doubt it. I think we need to call O'Neill again.”
“Great. He loves that.”
“How about Landry or Mr. Woolsey?” Ronon asked.
“Because they're too close to us. At least we can move Caldwell lower on our list of suspects.”
“Who else knew where we were going?”
“Bill Lee.”
Rodney laughed. “Come on, Sheppard. Lee isn't the kind of guy who would deliberately betray any of us. He's not greedy and he's - as much as it pains me to say it - he's too smart. Not nearly as smart as I am, or Sam Carter, but really good at what he does - all that virtual environment stuff.”
“I was nearly killed in that virtual environment.”
“I was right there in the room with you. Lee didn't do it. Somebody hacked his system. If I could get into it, I'd be able to find the point of the attack and trace it.”
John sighed. “Okay, pack your bags and head back to SGC.”
“But you --” McKay's concern showed on his face.
“I'm fine, Rodney. We need to find out who hacked Lee's system and if they have ties to the FSAC, Archetype, or any of the other suspects, even SGC.”
“Right. Keep in touch.”
“You, too. Just be sure it's secure.”
“I know.” Rodney paused in the doorway. “Be careful.” Dave was already on the phone to the airport. Rodney looked at Ronon. “Watch out for him.”
Ronon, who usually brushed off McKay's fears, didn't this time. “He'll be safe,” he promised. He and Dave left the kitchen and John and Ronon were alone once more.
“We're one step closer,” John said.
“One step closer?”
He reached over the table and Ronon clasped his hand. “One step closer to home.”
Ronon sighed. “Sounds good. But isn’t this your home?”
John shook his head. “Not for a long time.” His thumb moved across Ronon’s hand. “I
think we’ve both found our home.”
Chapter 12
Chapter 11