"Significant Figures", Part 1/3
Title: “Significant Figures” Part 1/3
Author: tepring
Genre: H/C
Spoilers: None
Words: ~16,500
Summary: Wounded, alone, and pursued by ruthless bandits, John must depend on his team to figure out the clues he's left for them.
Author’s Notes:This is an older fic that's been up on FF.net for a while, but it takes place in a Fall forest setting. The change in color around here at this time of year always reminds me of it. The word you're looking for is: frolicking. That is, if frolicking means wounded Sheppard fighting bad guys in a deserted forest. Enjoy!
"Significant Figures" is a math term referring to a method of rounding. I simply like the term for the pun it brings to the story below
Running. He was still running. Keep going. Stick to the plan.
His fingers were sticky and his shoulders ached from running with his hand clamped over the hole in his belly. The hand clenched and a soft gasp escaped when his feet staggered on the rough, dry, cracked ground underneath the thick layer of crunchy leaves. He couldn't see the ankle twisting rocks and grooves of hard earth under the deceptive natural carpeting. These leaves are killing me, he thought, regaining his balance. Then he almost laughed at the absurdity.
No, the blood he was still losing in seeping rivulets of wetness and the bullet still embedded inside in guts somewhere, THAT was killing him.
He clenched his hand again. He felt the saturated fabric of his shirt slip over blood-slicked skin. He needed to find a better bandage - hell, he needed to find a bandage. He needed to put pressure on the wound and try to stop the bleeding. A distant shout and the noises of other bodies tramping through Autumn's refuse behind him quickened his staggering feet. The accompanying surge of adrenaline convinced his protesting heart to keep up to the task of pushing what little it had to work with into relentlessly moving legs. He needed to stop. He had to keep running.
He'd taken the bullet from a distance and at a run. He'd rolled a couple of times from the shock of the impact...then he'd kept running. He'd been running since. At least it doesn't hurt much. The thought was only comforting in its irony. He hadn't had time to feel anything. He couldn't afford to feel anything, he added to himself, hearing more shouts. They were gaining on him.
His mind was almost hyper-alert, another useful side effect of adrenaline. He scanned the forest ahead of him for some route that would offer him safety, or refuge, or - if worse came to worst - a defensible niche to crawl into. He jumped a small creek that crossed his path and thought briefly of turning down it's trickling bed to look for an overhanging bank, or to hide his obvious path through the leaves. Watery mid-afternoon sunlight flickered in his eyes, making him squint as a cheerful beam escaped the thick, but bare, tree branches above him. He kept running, instead. Into the sun. Due west. Straight line.
Stick to the plan.
The creek wouldn’t help, anyway, he remembered eventually. They were using McKay's scanner to track his transponder.
He looked at his watch and found it harder to do the math than it should. When he finally convinced his mind to translate the numbers on the watch's face into the schedule it should represent, he felt the first flutter of fear. Had it only been that long? It felt like he'd been running for hours, for weeks. Not yet. He couldn't go to ground yet. A little more time. The shouts grew closer.
The Stargate lay at his back. Southeast. They would wonder why he was running in the opposite direction. It was the only way. It had been Rodney's only chance. He had no radio, no way to communicate with his team or Atlantis. But John Sheppard knew it didn't matter.
Teyla would figure it out.
=====================================
Teyla stepped through the Stargate for the second time that day and found herself morbidly enjoying the carnage that surrounded the portal. This time, the dead and dying around them were bandits, not her friends and trading partners from the peaceful village they had originally come to visit. Ronon walked quickly over and addressed the large group of Marines that had followed her from Atlantis.
"Team two, set up a perimeter and hold the 'gate. We don't know how many are still on the planet. Once we start kicking ass they'll probably make a run for home. Keep your eyes open."
"Hold those that surrender for questioning," Lorne added, shooting a wary look at Ronon. Teyla watched the Satedan roll his eyes in annoyance, but he didn't contradict the command. He did flick his eyes in her direction and she offered a sympathetic look. The people of Earth were more...conservative...in their treatment of enemies. It was as tedious as it was admirable.
"The rest of you, follow me."
Ronon set out Northeastwards, down the path towards the village, followed by no fewer than 8 heavily armed Atlantis soldiers. Teyla held back just long enough to watch a puddle jumper squirt out of the still 'gate, then lowered her head and took off after the others. The jumper climbed, forced to rise quickly out of the small clearing the Stargate sat within, then zoomed over their heads in aerial escort.
The air was cool and crisp, despite the mid-afternoon time of day, and the breath from the group of men in front of her rose in puffs of cloudy steam. The trees that thickly bordered the path were bare, hinting at the winter to come, but the leaves on the ground still held their color in cheerful contrast. OnAthos, her people would be busy harvesting and storing the fruits of their summer labors at this time in a planet's cycle. John had called it...Apple Weather...and had reminisced long over a childhood memory of throwing the plentiful Earth fruit at unwary girls in his village. The recollection of the pleasant walk with her team only hours ago suddenly brought a knot of anxiety to her stomach. John and Rodney were still out there, somewhere, in the midst of the bandits who had terrorized the villagers and destroyed their homes. Several had been killed as the bandits took what they wished and burned the rest. The survivors had mostly fled, leaving the bandits to revel in their spoils. Minutes after their comfortable walk, Teyla's team had walked unknowingly straight into the hyena's nest.
The radios nestled in the pockets of the team jogging along the forest floor crackled to life, interrupting Teyla's moment of contemplation. "Specialist Dex, this is Major Neglee in Jumper 2. We've got 15 bandits on the jumper's LSD in your general area. 5 at your 10 o'clock, 7 at your 12 o'clock in the village. 3 are moving between the groups. There are 6 more about 5 kliks west of us in deep forest. They appear to be pursuing one of our guys. I'm getting a transponder echo from the signature out on its own."
Teyla listened furiously to the intel, trying to piece together the information into a picture of the situation. "Do you see a second transponder signal, Major? Sheppard and McKay are both out here somewhere." Teyla had her suspicions about which of their missing men would be running alone from a group of hostiles, but it worried her greatly that her teammates weren't together.
"Negative, I'm only reading one transponder. Sir, should I fly to assist?"
Teyla quickened her steps and caught up to Ronon and Lorne. "Why is Sheppard out in the forest alone?" Ronon asked, like her, assuming that it was John who would make such a risky move.
"And where is McKay?" Lorne added.
Teyla shook her head in confusion. "I cannot believe that John would leave Rodney behind without a very good reason."
Ronon threw her a closed look, "Maybe McKay didn't make it."
Teyla refused to accept the terrifying speculation, "No. We must assume they are both alive. There has to be some other reason they were forced to split up."
"Perhaps they are together and one of their transponders is malfunctioning?" Lorne chimed in, clearly trying to pose an optimistic suggestion.
"Neglee would see his life signature even without the transponder." Teyla rolled her head in frustration. She was missing something. She suddenly pounced on her radio again, "Neglee, we think the transponder you're picking up is Sheppard. How long before he gets close enough for us to intercept on the ground?"
"He's not en route to the 'gate, ma'am. He's running due West, away from us."
Teyla's eyebrows shot up. He was running away? They had obviously all assumed that John would be running for the 'gate. "He's leading them away," she exclaimed suddenly, fitting the pieces together. "Rodney found a place to hide and John is leading the bandits away from his position."
"Makes sense," Lorne nodded.
"Leading them away from where? We still don't know where McKay is." Ronon's voice was tinged with frustration.
Teyla closed her eyes, picturing the forest, the village and the path in her mind. Due West. John was running West. Why west?
"Neglee. Has Sheppard changed course since you began scanning?" she asked.
"No ma'am. He's going straight as an arrow." Teyla paused again. Again the information was unusual. John was trained to change directions frequently to avoid capture, to throw off pursuit. She added John's course to the image in her mind. The line traced from him back to the path, but did not intersect with the village where she'd seen him last. She stopped walking, completely immersed in furious concentration.
John was leading enemies away from Rodney. Away in a straight line. If they traced that line backwards as she had done in her mind... She pounced on the radio yet again, "Neglee! Are there any structures or buildings or anything unusual due East of Sheppard's position? Do you see anywhere someone might take shelter?"
Ronon looked at her with a puzzled expression as they waited for Neglee's answer.
"Affirmative," came the Major's voice, sounding excited. "There's a small stone cottage or shed or something well outside the village. Hadn't really noticed it before just now. Looks like a good place to hide out. Pretty secluded."
"That's it," Teyla announced firmly. "Rodney's there. Neglee, can you direct us the quickest way to that cottage?"
"Affirmative, but you'd better hurry. I'm picking up a group of bandits leaving the village heading in that direction. At their current speed, they'll get there before you."
Teyla nodded, turning the mission decisions back over to Ronon who consulted briefly with Lorne. "Jumper 2, intercept the bandits encroaching on McKay's assumed position. Confirm that they're hostiles, then initiate an air strike."
"Yessir." The jumper immediately accelerated away from its hover above their heads, heading North. "Sir, what about Colonel Sheppard. He's still got bandits on his ass too. And I'm picking up a couple of signatures in his path he may not know about..."
Ronon and Teyla exchanged yet another worried look. When Ronon reached for his radio, his hand looked heavy, as if reluctant to initiate the message, "We've got to get to McKay first. Sheppard left him behind for a good reason and we can't let the bandits get there first. We'll get to Sheppard as soon as we can."
"Yessir. We're almost over the bandits now." The voice over the speaker was resigned and tinged with a determination to finish the job as quickly as possible.
"Sheppard can take care of himself," Ronon muttered and Teyla wondered just who exactly he was trying to reassure.
Barely a minute of tense silence passed before several muted explosions disturbed the chilly stillness of the forest. "Bandits confirmed and neutralized, "Neglee shouted, "But you've got five coming in on your 12 o'clock. I've not no sightlines, you'll have to take them on the ground!"
"Understood!" Ronon roared back, quickly deploying his forces while still pressing onward. It took another ten minutes of intense combat to fight their way finally to the stone cottage. The jumper stayed overhead in essential air support, calling out targets and warning those on the ground of bandits who'd tried to camouflage themselves and were lying in ambush. Teyla had never been so eager to hear an "all clear" in her life and she shouted into her radio even as she was finally dashing towards the stone building they had worked so hard to reach.
"Neglee! Go find Sheppard. Lend any air support you can offer and pick him up if you can."
"Yes ma'am!" Neglee sounded equally as happy to follow the command, and the jumper was out of sight before Teyla had even dropped her hand from the radio's button.
She slowed down as she drew up to the little building's single, small door and realized she was breathing heavily from exertion and anxiety. Ronon and the others gathered around her and with a deep breath, she placed her hand on the simple iron handle. Lorne nodded, Teyla yanked the door open wide and they found themselves peering, weapons at the ready, into pure blackness. Stone steps led immediately down from the door into what was clearly an underground cellar or tunnel of some sort. Lorne flicked on his flashlight that sat on the scope of his P-90 and illuminated more stairs and a steeply sloping roof. No one moved for a long moment.
"Rodney? Are you down there?" Teyla called out hesitantly. There was a moment of silent waiting.
"Teyla? Is it really you? Because I really would hate to think I was giving away our position right now if it wasn't you..."
Teyla grinned and blew out an enormous breath in pure relief. "Yes, Rodney. It is really me. Are you OK? Are you injured? Can you come up now?"
"No, I'm fine, but... could you come down here first? They're still afraid of the bandits."
They? Teyla shrugged and flicked on her own flashlight. She started down into the blackness, Ronon and Lorne hard on her heels. The steps descended sharply and Ronon had to duck to avoid cracking open his scull on the slanted, tunnel-like ceiling. At the bottom, Teyla felt the space open out in front of her and she raised her light to illuminate the wide, enormously relieved face of Rodney McKay. He stood grinning and squinting in the sudden light and she returned the wide smile with equal relief. Ronon nudged her from behind and she took another step to give him and Lorne room to step out of the stairwell.
Once the room was flooded with the light from three flashlights, Teyla finally looked around. Six other pale, frightened faces returned her gaze with solemn terror. Rodney walked back to stand next to the young man who was clinging tightly to his young wife. "These are my friends, Aja. Not bandits. You're safe now. We'll help you get offworld to join the rest of your people."
"Yes, of course we will," breathed Teyla, still surprised. She couldn't take her eyes off the four little ones clinging to their father's legs and burying their faces in their mother's skirts. Two little boys and two little girls peeked out at her, their faces painfully somber as they clung to the only security they knew in this dark, scary place.
"So, uh. Where's Sheppard?" Rodney asked at last as no one else seemed to be able to think of anything to say.
Teyla answered with her eyes, and Rodney's narrowed in instant concern. "The jumper just went to get him," Ronon answered.
"He said he was going to lead them away, then double back. Aja brought us to the cellar." Rodney looked awkwardly at the children and Teyla was certain his discomfort was more than his usual dislike of little ones. Sheppard and McKay had put them in danger by simply being here, and Teyla suddenly understood why John would take such a risk as to run alone into deep forest. The littlest began to whimper and tugged at his mother who scooped him up, holding him close to her cheek and murmuring into his ear. "Sheppard didn't like how close the bad guys were snooping around." Rodney added at last, confirming Teyla's thought.
"I can't raise the jumper," Lorne suddenly said, messing with his radio.
"This cellar is shielded. The native rocks around here are naturally high in low-level radiation." Rodney suddenly decided he'd had enough of dark cellars and shouldered his way past Teyla to head up the stairs. Teyla followed him, nodding to herself as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
"So that is why we did not see your transponder on the LSD," Teyla said.
"Yeah, it’s a good thing, too. Sheppard and I got caught - briefly - and those bandit barbarians took the hand scanner before I could shut it off. They won't be able to get it to do anything else, but I was scanning for transponder signals at the time, hoping you guys had already come through the 'gate, so..." his voice trailed off with a sigh of exasperation combined with relief. Relief at reaching the sunlit surface again, that is.
"So, they could still be using it to track Sheppard's transponder," Ronon growled, lunging back out into the crisp air himself.
"Jumper 2, this is Teyla. Do you have Sheppard?" She spoke into the radio with a sudden, overwhelming sense of urgency.
There was a long, puzzling silence and Teyla turned towards Ronon and Rodney, locking eyes in worry.
"Negative, sirs." Neglee took a deep frustrated breath that they could all hear even over their tiny speakers. "His transponder isn't showing up on the scans anymore."
Ronon kicked furiously at the ground, sending a shower of bright leaves into the air to flutter wildly before settling again.
"We've lost him," Neglee said.
==================================
Keep running. Stick to the plan.
Sheppard's breath was coming in ragged gasps, and he felt his whole body cramping up with the relentless motion. His belly began to ache and he pressed the forearm wrapped around the sopping mess of his abdomen even more tightly into himself. He'd taken fire before. A bullet graze usually stung with white hot fire. This was a cold ache, almost icy in its penetrating numbness. He shivered at the thought. Then he shivered because he felt cold all over.
Nothing unusual about that, he thought, trying to cheer himself. It's damn chilly in the fall. He conveniently ignored the fact that, after running for a solid hour, he should have been hot with exertion. He swiped his brow with his other arm and blinked into the sunlight streaming down from a cold, clear sky. Due West.
One step blurred into another. The steps behind him faded, then returned. They'd stopped shouting, at least. Noisy bastards.
They were wearing him down, he had realized just a little while ago. Biding their time until blood loss and exhaustion dropped him at their feet without them having to lift a finger. They had the scanner. They could just jog along and watch for him to stop moving. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction, he snarled in the desperation of his own mind. He'd crawl into a hole and die first. Transponder wouldn't do them any good then. He'd go where they'd never be able to dig his body out.
A sudden, distant rumbling stopped John in his tracks. Holding his breath briefly he counted three muffled drone impacts before silence reclaimed the forest. It was all he could do to keep from letting out a victorious cheer. They were here! Teyla and Ronon had made it back to the planet and were kicking ass. A weary wide grin split his face and he pushed his exhausted body back into a jog, feeling almost rested as the thought of a warm jumper and a handful of Dr. Beckett's finest painkillers rejuvenated his spirit. He'd keep moving west, to keep up the ruse he had going with the guys behind him, but now it was he who was biding his time. He grinned again with the imagined expressions on the faces of the bandits as a jumper screamed down out of the sky at them, blasting them to join their colleagues in tiny pieces.
Keep running. Plan worked. Time to go home.
"Hold it!"
"Stop where you are!"
Shit.
John took a single step further to clear the line of trees, then froze as two bandits backed up their command with gestures from ugly, heavy projectile weapons. For a long moment, John just stood, dazed and gasping. The bandits had been walking along the edge of a rocky slope and John could see the top half of the forest continuing on below, the bottom half obscured by the slope's edge and his angle. So much for west. He'd have had to turn aside anyway.
"Stay there, and don't try anything," one of the bandits ordered. He was a craggy redhead with a bushy, unkempt beard and a scarlet complexion. John rather thought he belonged on a pirate ship rather than traipsing around a forest after runaway Colonels.
John simply stood on his spot, swaying slightly as he tried to blink sweat out of his eyes. He clenched his arm around himself even more tightly. The two bandits held their weapons warily, looking almost afraid to do anything but point their guns and hope he didn’t go ballistic. John caught a nervous glance pass between them. His reputation must have preceded him. He'd killed enough of their friends today that, even bloodied and about to pass out from exhaustion, they were actually afraid of him. He allowed a low snicker to escape.
He needed a new plan.
The second man, younger with short dark hair, but no less rugged, cupped his hands over his mouth and bellowed into the forest, calling to the group pursuing John. He looked smug as answering shouts drifted back to them.
"Hi, guys," John gasped out, pleased with the way the two men clenched their weapons even more tightly at his sudden interest in them. "You, know the way to the local bar? I seem to have gotten turned around somewhere back there." The two men exchanged another nervous look. John took a step forward.
"Don't move any closer!" the dark haired bandit barked. "Mikah said you killed Lars and Neb with your bare hands." John shrugged. He'd actually had his knife, but he wasn't going to contradict the man holding a gun.
"They were in my way," John said. He forced his voice to sound cocky, confident, but his body was beginning to shudder. He was beginning to realize how dangerous it was to stop moving. He'd been able to hold shock and pain at bay by running. Standing still was giving all his damaged systems a chance to protest. If he stood there much longer, he might not get himself moving again at all.
Come on, John! Figure it out!
He needed to keep moving. He needed to get away from these guys. He needed to get the others behind him off his ass, too, or they'd have him before Ronon could get here.
He looked at the edge of the slope and swallowed hard. He really hoped it wasn't as steep or high as it looked from this angle.
With a sudden lunge, untelegraphed by breath or even a flicker of the eyes, John leaped at the two bandits, closing the gap even before they'd so much as widened their eyes in surprise. Choosing his destination precisely, he landed between them and reached for the dark-haired one's arm as they both pivoted towards each other, trying to track him with their weapons. John wrapped his sticky, blood encrusted hand around the bandit's and crushed the knuckles holding the gun with a ferocious squeeze.
The gun went off, and red-beard crumpled in a heap, killed by his own companion's gun. The younger bandit exclaimed in horror and began to struggle, making a grab for John with his other arm. John just lowered his shoulder into the man's chest and pushed him backwards one step, then another. The man began to slip on the very edge of the rocky cliff-slope and John took one more deep breath before shoving with both feet.
The bandit yelped in surprise, then almost gracefully pitched backwards off the ledge. John lost his own footing as the resistance against his shoulder was suddenly gone, and he tumbled over too, rolling with the bandit down the gravel hill then feeling himself in freefall as the slope straightened vertically. The ground came rushing up at him. All he saw before a final dull thud of impact was a thick, brightly colorful carpeting of leaves.
==================================
Neglee's transmission sank a knot into Ronon's stomach and he kicked at the leaves in frustration.
"Maybe he just found a place to shelter, like we did. Any natural cave or even a deep overhang might shield the transponder." Rodney offered, surprisingly ready with an optimistic explanation.
"I know," grunted Ronon. That wasn't what worried him, at least not too much. He wouldn't believe that the transponder had shut down as a result of Sheppard's death until he laid eyes on his friend's body and felt the missing pulse for himself. But Sheppard also wouldn't just go to ground and hide. Not when rescue was so close and Ronon knew that Sheppard knew they were here - those drone blasts had echoed for miles. No, if Sheppard went to ground, he was in trouble of some sort, and THAT was what was worrying Ronon. Maybe he hadn't been able to shake the pursuit?
"Jumper 2, are there still bandits in the area where you last saw Colonel Sheppard's signal?" Ronon was grateful for Teyla's quick questions. He was still struggling with too much anger to think clearly yet.
"There are five signatures headed back East from out that way. They're clumped together and moving slow."
"Must have given up?" speculated Rodney. "Sheppard found a way to shield the transponder so they gave up and headed home."
"There were 7 of them out there earlier," Ronon growled. Rodney gulped. Sheppard was more than capable of taking out a couple of bandits, even alone and unarmed. But it notched up Ronon's worry even further - perhaps the battle hadn't gone well.
Teyla wasn't finished, "Neglee, can you determine Colonel Sheppard's most likely last position?"
"Sure, we already traced the Colonel's route out as far as I think he could've gone. There's a pretty steep ridge that runs for several miles across his path that would have turned him to the side had he made it all the way there. We're skimming the ridge now. I thought we might get a visual if he was somewhere along its edge." Ronon heard the apology in Neglee's voice; if Sheppard were out in the open - and alive - they would see him on the LSD. For some reason, the thought of Neglee looking for a dead Sheppard fueled Ronon's anger further. It was unreasonable, but it felt like betrayal. Before Ronon could snap a reprimand at the Major, Neglee suddenly was speaking again.
"Sirs, I've got a visual on a body out here."
"A Bandit?" asked Teyla her voice hasty and desperate.
"Looks that way," Neglee answered. Teyla and Rodney sighed in relief. "He's a big redhead. Dressed like the others."
"Major, can you land and search the immediate area? If Sheppard was there, he may still be nearby." Ronon was feeling the agitation of impatience. He was ready to get out there, to begin the search.
"Nah, I got nowhere to land. The trees are really thick here, and this ridge looks like the border of a rocky river valley. It's even more overgrown than the forest above. I can't even see to the bottom of the slope in this light."
"Understood." Ronon suddenly whipped around to face the team of Marines. It was time to take action. He gestured at Aja and his wife who were standing quietly together just outside the cellar doors, each holding a small child. Lt. Walker held the two oldest, one on each arm, and was bouncing them into the air, laughing with them when they giggled and squealed. "Lorne, pick a couple of men to escort these people to the Stargate. The rest of us are going after Sheppard."
"Yessir." Lorne jerked his head at Walker who, still grinning, pointed at his buddy Jones. The two Marines soon had the family moving towards the Stargate and safety.
Ronon watched them go, giving the remaining men a moment to settle their gear and ready themselves to move again. He made one last sweep with his eyes around the group, resting last on Teyla who's expression was equally eager and determined.
"Move out," he ordered, turning his face into the watery sun that was slowly dropping towards the horizon.
Ronon set a fast pace, squinting as he walked. Several of the men pulled out sunglasses or unfolded caps to protect their eyes from the flickers and occasional penetrating beam of intense, late afternoon sunlight. The little gesture of the lieutenant running next to him - a simple flick of the pocket flap and shimmy of the shades over squinting eyes - reminded Ronon of Sheppard's preference for glasses over a hat or visor, and the knot of anxiety sank deeper into his chest. Every step they took was a step Sheppard had also taken - by himself and with bandits on his tail; the thought sped his feet even faster. The group shifted from a quick walk into a slow jog. Not a man grumbled. Every one of them felt the urgency of the search. The jumper skimmed the length of the ridge for a few more minutes, then returned to join them in aerial escort.
Thirty minutes later, about halfway to their destination, McKay finally succumbed to the unpleasant exertion and blurted out a petulant, "Holy Cow! How far did that man run for crying out loud? He said he was going to double back! Not double the record for the longest escape route ever!"
"The bandits must have had other plans," Teyla chided, her usual humor absent. Rodney must have heard the edge in her voice because he resisted further complaints, although the muttering coming from his general direction increased in ferocity as they ran on and on.
The dull monotony of placing one foot in front of the other was interrupted with heart-jolting abruptness when the Marine on point suddenly froze, holding his fisted hand at shoulder height. The rest of the Atlantian soldiers froze just as suddenly, every weapon in ready position, every eye keenly scanning the seemingly empty forest around them. The lead Marine pointed into the forest, signed the code for enemy and looked at Ronon for a command. Ronon understood.
An instant later, the receiver in Ronon's ear crackled to life as the jumper radioed. "Sir, you're getting close to that group of bandits that's returning to the village. They're about 400 yards on your 3 o'clock. They haven't changed course, so I don't think they've spotted you."
Ronon only nodded, maintaining silence. That soldier has good eyes, he thought. Making sure he had the attention of everyone in the group, Ronon sent Lorne and the rest after the bandits with a few concise gestures. Lorne added a few of his own, then the six men stalked off towards their unsuspecting targets.
Ronon, Teyla and McKay - leaning heavily on his knees and trying to catch his breath - stood still for the few minutes it took Lorne's strike team to engage the bandits, and then set off again towards Sheppard's assumed last position the instant they heard gunfire erupt. Lorne and the jumper would catch up. Ronon didn't want to waste a minute getting to the site himself.
It took another 20 minutes to reach the long, sharp drop-off of stone and gravel that the Jumper had spotted an hour before. Neglee guided them North along its edge to reach the spot where the dead bandit lay. Refreshed with a new surge of anticipation and concern, the team raced towards the body, loudly calling Sheppard's name as they went. Only the rustling leaves answered and Ronon was beginning to realize that Sheppard wasn't just hiding nearby, waiting for them to show up and pop out with a smirk and a smart-mouthed comment about how long it had taken them to get here. He supposed he'd known that already; Sheppard would have flagged down the jumper if he was just waiting on them. The thought was not comforting. The continued absence of his friend suddenly snapped into sharp focus as they neared the sprawled, still form of the bandit.
"Jumper 2, relay a message to Walker at the Stargate. Have them contact Atlantis and put a med-evac team on standby."
"Right away, sir," answered Neglee. Teyla and Rodney turned to stare at him in puzzled shock. Ronon returned their looks with a serious expression.
"There's no reason Sheppard shouldn't be waiting around for us to pick him up. He knows the bandits left an hour ago. He's either not here or..."
"He is injured and unable to make contact," Teyla finished, wrapping her arms around herself as they drew up and stood solemnly around the red-headed bandit.
Ronon crouched, studying the body and the ground around them carefully. The bandit had been shot through the heart at very close range. He had fallen where he lay, dead before he hit the ground. Ronon touched the rocky soil at the bandit's feet; there had been a scuffle and...three sets of prints were overlapping in the dirt within a small area. He brushed away the leaves that had drifted over the site in the intervening hour, and stood up to get a higher perspective. The struggle seemed to have worked its way close to the slope's edge.
Teyla and Rodney wandered away a few steps. Ronon could sense them peering into the forest around them, still somehow hoping for a glimpse of Sheppard against all reason...and against all fear. Teyla moved closer to the dropoff, tilted her face into the wind. A sudden sharp gasp yanked Ronon out of his studies to turn hastily towards her.
"Ronon..." her voice trailed off and she just pointed down the slope to the ground below. Rodney raced to her side, stiffening as he also looked down.
"Oh...no." The scientist's voice was soft with shock.
Blood rushed to Ronon's head as he joined them and followed their shocked gazes. Part fury, part horror, part screaming hot grief flooded his chest and he dropped to one knee, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle the howl of rage that longed to escape.
A figure lay sprawled on its stomach far below on the forest floor, half-buried in leaves and looking almost peaceful in its utter stillness. The face was obscured, but the leather jacket was painfully familiar, the trim tailoring obviously of Earth style and obviously unlike the rough, woolen dusters the bandits all wore. A single, ragged hole in the middle of the jacket's back was visible even from the top of the ridge, the puckered edges interrupting the otherwise smooth surface of the leather. A shock of dark hair lay motionless against a bright pillow of fall colors.
“Sheppard.”
Significant Figures, Part 2
Author: tepring
Genre: H/C
Spoilers: None
Words: ~16,500
Summary: Wounded, alone, and pursued by ruthless bandits, John must depend on his team to figure out the clues he's left for them.
Author’s Notes:This is an older fic that's been up on FF.net for a while, but it takes place in a Fall forest setting. The change in color around here at this time of year always reminds me of it. The word you're looking for is: frolicking. That is, if frolicking means wounded Sheppard fighting bad guys in a deserted forest. Enjoy!
"Significant Figures" is a math term referring to a method of rounding. I simply like the term for the pun it brings to the story below
Running. He was still running. Keep going. Stick to the plan.
His fingers were sticky and his shoulders ached from running with his hand clamped over the hole in his belly. The hand clenched and a soft gasp escaped when his feet staggered on the rough, dry, cracked ground underneath the thick layer of crunchy leaves. He couldn't see the ankle twisting rocks and grooves of hard earth under the deceptive natural carpeting. These leaves are killing me, he thought, regaining his balance. Then he almost laughed at the absurdity.
No, the blood he was still losing in seeping rivulets of wetness and the bullet still embedded inside in guts somewhere, THAT was killing him.
He clenched his hand again. He felt the saturated fabric of his shirt slip over blood-slicked skin. He needed to find a better bandage - hell, he needed to find a bandage. He needed to put pressure on the wound and try to stop the bleeding. A distant shout and the noises of other bodies tramping through Autumn's refuse behind him quickened his staggering feet. The accompanying surge of adrenaline convinced his protesting heart to keep up to the task of pushing what little it had to work with into relentlessly moving legs. He needed to stop. He had to keep running.
He'd taken the bullet from a distance and at a run. He'd rolled a couple of times from the shock of the impact...then he'd kept running. He'd been running since. At least it doesn't hurt much. The thought was only comforting in its irony. He hadn't had time to feel anything. He couldn't afford to feel anything, he added to himself, hearing more shouts. They were gaining on him.
His mind was almost hyper-alert, another useful side effect of adrenaline. He scanned the forest ahead of him for some route that would offer him safety, or refuge, or - if worse came to worst - a defensible niche to crawl into. He jumped a small creek that crossed his path and thought briefly of turning down it's trickling bed to look for an overhanging bank, or to hide his obvious path through the leaves. Watery mid-afternoon sunlight flickered in his eyes, making him squint as a cheerful beam escaped the thick, but bare, tree branches above him. He kept running, instead. Into the sun. Due west. Straight line.
Stick to the plan.
The creek wouldn’t help, anyway, he remembered eventually. They were using McKay's scanner to track his transponder.
He looked at his watch and found it harder to do the math than it should. When he finally convinced his mind to translate the numbers on the watch's face into the schedule it should represent, he felt the first flutter of fear. Had it only been that long? It felt like he'd been running for hours, for weeks. Not yet. He couldn't go to ground yet. A little more time. The shouts grew closer.
The Stargate lay at his back. Southeast. They would wonder why he was running in the opposite direction. It was the only way. It had been Rodney's only chance. He had no radio, no way to communicate with his team or Atlantis. But John Sheppard knew it didn't matter.
Teyla would figure it out.
=====================================
Teyla stepped through the Stargate for the second time that day and found herself morbidly enjoying the carnage that surrounded the portal. This time, the dead and dying around them were bandits, not her friends and trading partners from the peaceful village they had originally come to visit. Ronon walked quickly over and addressed the large group of Marines that had followed her from Atlantis.
"Team two, set up a perimeter and hold the 'gate. We don't know how many are still on the planet. Once we start kicking ass they'll probably make a run for home. Keep your eyes open."
"Hold those that surrender for questioning," Lorne added, shooting a wary look at Ronon. Teyla watched the Satedan roll his eyes in annoyance, but he didn't contradict the command. He did flick his eyes in her direction and she offered a sympathetic look. The people of Earth were more...conservative...in their treatment of enemies. It was as tedious as it was admirable.
"The rest of you, follow me."
Ronon set out Northeastwards, down the path towards the village, followed by no fewer than 8 heavily armed Atlantis soldiers. Teyla held back just long enough to watch a puddle jumper squirt out of the still 'gate, then lowered her head and took off after the others. The jumper climbed, forced to rise quickly out of the small clearing the Stargate sat within, then zoomed over their heads in aerial escort.
The air was cool and crisp, despite the mid-afternoon time of day, and the breath from the group of men in front of her rose in puffs of cloudy steam. The trees that thickly bordered the path were bare, hinting at the winter to come, but the leaves on the ground still held their color in cheerful contrast. OnAthos, her people would be busy harvesting and storing the fruits of their summer labors at this time in a planet's cycle. John had called it...Apple Weather...and had reminisced long over a childhood memory of throwing the plentiful Earth fruit at unwary girls in his village. The recollection of the pleasant walk with her team only hours ago suddenly brought a knot of anxiety to her stomach. John and Rodney were still out there, somewhere, in the midst of the bandits who had terrorized the villagers and destroyed their homes. Several had been killed as the bandits took what they wished and burned the rest. The survivors had mostly fled, leaving the bandits to revel in their spoils. Minutes after their comfortable walk, Teyla's team had walked unknowingly straight into the hyena's nest.
The radios nestled in the pockets of the team jogging along the forest floor crackled to life, interrupting Teyla's moment of contemplation. "Specialist Dex, this is Major Neglee in Jumper 2. We've got 15 bandits on the jumper's LSD in your general area. 5 at your 10 o'clock, 7 at your 12 o'clock in the village. 3 are moving between the groups. There are 6 more about 5 kliks west of us in deep forest. They appear to be pursuing one of our guys. I'm getting a transponder echo from the signature out on its own."
Teyla listened furiously to the intel, trying to piece together the information into a picture of the situation. "Do you see a second transponder signal, Major? Sheppard and McKay are both out here somewhere." Teyla had her suspicions about which of their missing men would be running alone from a group of hostiles, but it worried her greatly that her teammates weren't together.
"Negative, I'm only reading one transponder. Sir, should I fly to assist?"
Teyla quickened her steps and caught up to Ronon and Lorne. "Why is Sheppard out in the forest alone?" Ronon asked, like her, assuming that it was John who would make such a risky move.
"And where is McKay?" Lorne added.
Teyla shook her head in confusion. "I cannot believe that John would leave Rodney behind without a very good reason."
Ronon threw her a closed look, "Maybe McKay didn't make it."
Teyla refused to accept the terrifying speculation, "No. We must assume they are both alive. There has to be some other reason they were forced to split up."
"Perhaps they are together and one of their transponders is malfunctioning?" Lorne chimed in, clearly trying to pose an optimistic suggestion.
"Neglee would see his life signature even without the transponder." Teyla rolled her head in frustration. She was missing something. She suddenly pounced on her radio again, "Neglee, we think the transponder you're picking up is Sheppard. How long before he gets close enough for us to intercept on the ground?"
"He's not en route to the 'gate, ma'am. He's running due West, away from us."
Teyla's eyebrows shot up. He was running away? They had obviously all assumed that John would be running for the 'gate. "He's leading them away," she exclaimed suddenly, fitting the pieces together. "Rodney found a place to hide and John is leading the bandits away from his position."
"Makes sense," Lorne nodded.
"Leading them away from where? We still don't know where McKay is." Ronon's voice was tinged with frustration.
Teyla closed her eyes, picturing the forest, the village and the path in her mind. Due West. John was running West. Why west?
"Neglee. Has Sheppard changed course since you began scanning?" she asked.
"No ma'am. He's going straight as an arrow." Teyla paused again. Again the information was unusual. John was trained to change directions frequently to avoid capture, to throw off pursuit. She added John's course to the image in her mind. The line traced from him back to the path, but did not intersect with the village where she'd seen him last. She stopped walking, completely immersed in furious concentration.
John was leading enemies away from Rodney. Away in a straight line. If they traced that line backwards as she had done in her mind... She pounced on the radio yet again, "Neglee! Are there any structures or buildings or anything unusual due East of Sheppard's position? Do you see anywhere someone might take shelter?"
Ronon looked at her with a puzzled expression as they waited for Neglee's answer.
"Affirmative," came the Major's voice, sounding excited. "There's a small stone cottage or shed or something well outside the village. Hadn't really noticed it before just now. Looks like a good place to hide out. Pretty secluded."
"That's it," Teyla announced firmly. "Rodney's there. Neglee, can you direct us the quickest way to that cottage?"
"Affirmative, but you'd better hurry. I'm picking up a group of bandits leaving the village heading in that direction. At their current speed, they'll get there before you."
Teyla nodded, turning the mission decisions back over to Ronon who consulted briefly with Lorne. "Jumper 2, intercept the bandits encroaching on McKay's assumed position. Confirm that they're hostiles, then initiate an air strike."
"Yessir." The jumper immediately accelerated away from its hover above their heads, heading North. "Sir, what about Colonel Sheppard. He's still got bandits on his ass too. And I'm picking up a couple of signatures in his path he may not know about..."
Ronon and Teyla exchanged yet another worried look. When Ronon reached for his radio, his hand looked heavy, as if reluctant to initiate the message, "We've got to get to McKay first. Sheppard left him behind for a good reason and we can't let the bandits get there first. We'll get to Sheppard as soon as we can."
"Yessir. We're almost over the bandits now." The voice over the speaker was resigned and tinged with a determination to finish the job as quickly as possible.
"Sheppard can take care of himself," Ronon muttered and Teyla wondered just who exactly he was trying to reassure.
Barely a minute of tense silence passed before several muted explosions disturbed the chilly stillness of the forest. "Bandits confirmed and neutralized, "Neglee shouted, "But you've got five coming in on your 12 o'clock. I've not no sightlines, you'll have to take them on the ground!"
"Understood!" Ronon roared back, quickly deploying his forces while still pressing onward. It took another ten minutes of intense combat to fight their way finally to the stone cottage. The jumper stayed overhead in essential air support, calling out targets and warning those on the ground of bandits who'd tried to camouflage themselves and were lying in ambush. Teyla had never been so eager to hear an "all clear" in her life and she shouted into her radio even as she was finally dashing towards the stone building they had worked so hard to reach.
"Neglee! Go find Sheppard. Lend any air support you can offer and pick him up if you can."
"Yes ma'am!" Neglee sounded equally as happy to follow the command, and the jumper was out of sight before Teyla had even dropped her hand from the radio's button.
She slowed down as she drew up to the little building's single, small door and realized she was breathing heavily from exertion and anxiety. Ronon and the others gathered around her and with a deep breath, she placed her hand on the simple iron handle. Lorne nodded, Teyla yanked the door open wide and they found themselves peering, weapons at the ready, into pure blackness. Stone steps led immediately down from the door into what was clearly an underground cellar or tunnel of some sort. Lorne flicked on his flashlight that sat on the scope of his P-90 and illuminated more stairs and a steeply sloping roof. No one moved for a long moment.
"Rodney? Are you down there?" Teyla called out hesitantly. There was a moment of silent waiting.
"Teyla? Is it really you? Because I really would hate to think I was giving away our position right now if it wasn't you..."
Teyla grinned and blew out an enormous breath in pure relief. "Yes, Rodney. It is really me. Are you OK? Are you injured? Can you come up now?"
"No, I'm fine, but... could you come down here first? They're still afraid of the bandits."
They? Teyla shrugged and flicked on her own flashlight. She started down into the blackness, Ronon and Lorne hard on her heels. The steps descended sharply and Ronon had to duck to avoid cracking open his scull on the slanted, tunnel-like ceiling. At the bottom, Teyla felt the space open out in front of her and she raised her light to illuminate the wide, enormously relieved face of Rodney McKay. He stood grinning and squinting in the sudden light and she returned the wide smile with equal relief. Ronon nudged her from behind and she took another step to give him and Lorne room to step out of the stairwell.
Once the room was flooded with the light from three flashlights, Teyla finally looked around. Six other pale, frightened faces returned her gaze with solemn terror. Rodney walked back to stand next to the young man who was clinging tightly to his young wife. "These are my friends, Aja. Not bandits. You're safe now. We'll help you get offworld to join the rest of your people."
"Yes, of course we will," breathed Teyla, still surprised. She couldn't take her eyes off the four little ones clinging to their father's legs and burying their faces in their mother's skirts. Two little boys and two little girls peeked out at her, their faces painfully somber as they clung to the only security they knew in this dark, scary place.
"So, uh. Where's Sheppard?" Rodney asked at last as no one else seemed to be able to think of anything to say.
Teyla answered with her eyes, and Rodney's narrowed in instant concern. "The jumper just went to get him," Ronon answered.
"He said he was going to lead them away, then double back. Aja brought us to the cellar." Rodney looked awkwardly at the children and Teyla was certain his discomfort was more than his usual dislike of little ones. Sheppard and McKay had put them in danger by simply being here, and Teyla suddenly understood why John would take such a risk as to run alone into deep forest. The littlest began to whimper and tugged at his mother who scooped him up, holding him close to her cheek and murmuring into his ear. "Sheppard didn't like how close the bad guys were snooping around." Rodney added at last, confirming Teyla's thought.
"I can't raise the jumper," Lorne suddenly said, messing with his radio.
"This cellar is shielded. The native rocks around here are naturally high in low-level radiation." Rodney suddenly decided he'd had enough of dark cellars and shouldered his way past Teyla to head up the stairs. Teyla followed him, nodding to herself as another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
"So that is why we did not see your transponder on the LSD," Teyla said.
"Yeah, it’s a good thing, too. Sheppard and I got caught - briefly - and those bandit barbarians took the hand scanner before I could shut it off. They won't be able to get it to do anything else, but I was scanning for transponder signals at the time, hoping you guys had already come through the 'gate, so..." his voice trailed off with a sigh of exasperation combined with relief. Relief at reaching the sunlit surface again, that is.
"So, they could still be using it to track Sheppard's transponder," Ronon growled, lunging back out into the crisp air himself.
"Jumper 2, this is Teyla. Do you have Sheppard?" She spoke into the radio with a sudden, overwhelming sense of urgency.
There was a long, puzzling silence and Teyla turned towards Ronon and Rodney, locking eyes in worry.
"Negative, sirs." Neglee took a deep frustrated breath that they could all hear even over their tiny speakers. "His transponder isn't showing up on the scans anymore."
Ronon kicked furiously at the ground, sending a shower of bright leaves into the air to flutter wildly before settling again.
"We've lost him," Neglee said.
==================================
Keep running. Stick to the plan.
Sheppard's breath was coming in ragged gasps, and he felt his whole body cramping up with the relentless motion. His belly began to ache and he pressed the forearm wrapped around the sopping mess of his abdomen even more tightly into himself. He'd taken fire before. A bullet graze usually stung with white hot fire. This was a cold ache, almost icy in its penetrating numbness. He shivered at the thought. Then he shivered because he felt cold all over.
Nothing unusual about that, he thought, trying to cheer himself. It's damn chilly in the fall. He conveniently ignored the fact that, after running for a solid hour, he should have been hot with exertion. He swiped his brow with his other arm and blinked into the sunlight streaming down from a cold, clear sky. Due West.
One step blurred into another. The steps behind him faded, then returned. They'd stopped shouting, at least. Noisy bastards.
They were wearing him down, he had realized just a little while ago. Biding their time until blood loss and exhaustion dropped him at their feet without them having to lift a finger. They had the scanner. They could just jog along and watch for him to stop moving. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction, he snarled in the desperation of his own mind. He'd crawl into a hole and die first. Transponder wouldn't do them any good then. He'd go where they'd never be able to dig his body out.
A sudden, distant rumbling stopped John in his tracks. Holding his breath briefly he counted three muffled drone impacts before silence reclaimed the forest. It was all he could do to keep from letting out a victorious cheer. They were here! Teyla and Ronon had made it back to the planet and were kicking ass. A weary wide grin split his face and he pushed his exhausted body back into a jog, feeling almost rested as the thought of a warm jumper and a handful of Dr. Beckett's finest painkillers rejuvenated his spirit. He'd keep moving west, to keep up the ruse he had going with the guys behind him, but now it was he who was biding his time. He grinned again with the imagined expressions on the faces of the bandits as a jumper screamed down out of the sky at them, blasting them to join their colleagues in tiny pieces.
Keep running. Plan worked. Time to go home.
"Hold it!"
"Stop where you are!"
Shit.
John took a single step further to clear the line of trees, then froze as two bandits backed up their command with gestures from ugly, heavy projectile weapons. For a long moment, John just stood, dazed and gasping. The bandits had been walking along the edge of a rocky slope and John could see the top half of the forest continuing on below, the bottom half obscured by the slope's edge and his angle. So much for west. He'd have had to turn aside anyway.
"Stay there, and don't try anything," one of the bandits ordered. He was a craggy redhead with a bushy, unkempt beard and a scarlet complexion. John rather thought he belonged on a pirate ship rather than traipsing around a forest after runaway Colonels.
John simply stood on his spot, swaying slightly as he tried to blink sweat out of his eyes. He clenched his arm around himself even more tightly. The two bandits held their weapons warily, looking almost afraid to do anything but point their guns and hope he didn’t go ballistic. John caught a nervous glance pass between them. His reputation must have preceded him. He'd killed enough of their friends today that, even bloodied and about to pass out from exhaustion, they were actually afraid of him. He allowed a low snicker to escape.
He needed a new plan.
The second man, younger with short dark hair, but no less rugged, cupped his hands over his mouth and bellowed into the forest, calling to the group pursuing John. He looked smug as answering shouts drifted back to them.
"Hi, guys," John gasped out, pleased with the way the two men clenched their weapons even more tightly at his sudden interest in them. "You, know the way to the local bar? I seem to have gotten turned around somewhere back there." The two men exchanged another nervous look. John took a step forward.
"Don't move any closer!" the dark haired bandit barked. "Mikah said you killed Lars and Neb with your bare hands." John shrugged. He'd actually had his knife, but he wasn't going to contradict the man holding a gun.
"They were in my way," John said. He forced his voice to sound cocky, confident, but his body was beginning to shudder. He was beginning to realize how dangerous it was to stop moving. He'd been able to hold shock and pain at bay by running. Standing still was giving all his damaged systems a chance to protest. If he stood there much longer, he might not get himself moving again at all.
Come on, John! Figure it out!
He needed to keep moving. He needed to get away from these guys. He needed to get the others behind him off his ass, too, or they'd have him before Ronon could get here.
He looked at the edge of the slope and swallowed hard. He really hoped it wasn't as steep or high as it looked from this angle.
With a sudden lunge, untelegraphed by breath or even a flicker of the eyes, John leaped at the two bandits, closing the gap even before they'd so much as widened their eyes in surprise. Choosing his destination precisely, he landed between them and reached for the dark-haired one's arm as they both pivoted towards each other, trying to track him with their weapons. John wrapped his sticky, blood encrusted hand around the bandit's and crushed the knuckles holding the gun with a ferocious squeeze.
The gun went off, and red-beard crumpled in a heap, killed by his own companion's gun. The younger bandit exclaimed in horror and began to struggle, making a grab for John with his other arm. John just lowered his shoulder into the man's chest and pushed him backwards one step, then another. The man began to slip on the very edge of the rocky cliff-slope and John took one more deep breath before shoving with both feet.
The bandit yelped in surprise, then almost gracefully pitched backwards off the ledge. John lost his own footing as the resistance against his shoulder was suddenly gone, and he tumbled over too, rolling with the bandit down the gravel hill then feeling himself in freefall as the slope straightened vertically. The ground came rushing up at him. All he saw before a final dull thud of impact was a thick, brightly colorful carpeting of leaves.
==================================
Neglee's transmission sank a knot into Ronon's stomach and he kicked at the leaves in frustration.
"Maybe he just found a place to shelter, like we did. Any natural cave or even a deep overhang might shield the transponder." Rodney offered, surprisingly ready with an optimistic explanation.
"I know," grunted Ronon. That wasn't what worried him, at least not too much. He wouldn't believe that the transponder had shut down as a result of Sheppard's death until he laid eyes on his friend's body and felt the missing pulse for himself. But Sheppard also wouldn't just go to ground and hide. Not when rescue was so close and Ronon knew that Sheppard knew they were here - those drone blasts had echoed for miles. No, if Sheppard went to ground, he was in trouble of some sort, and THAT was what was worrying Ronon. Maybe he hadn't been able to shake the pursuit?
"Jumper 2, are there still bandits in the area where you last saw Colonel Sheppard's signal?" Ronon was grateful for Teyla's quick questions. He was still struggling with too much anger to think clearly yet.
"There are five signatures headed back East from out that way. They're clumped together and moving slow."
"Must have given up?" speculated Rodney. "Sheppard found a way to shield the transponder so they gave up and headed home."
"There were 7 of them out there earlier," Ronon growled. Rodney gulped. Sheppard was more than capable of taking out a couple of bandits, even alone and unarmed. But it notched up Ronon's worry even further - perhaps the battle hadn't gone well.
Teyla wasn't finished, "Neglee, can you determine Colonel Sheppard's most likely last position?"
"Sure, we already traced the Colonel's route out as far as I think he could've gone. There's a pretty steep ridge that runs for several miles across his path that would have turned him to the side had he made it all the way there. We're skimming the ridge now. I thought we might get a visual if he was somewhere along its edge." Ronon heard the apology in Neglee's voice; if Sheppard were out in the open - and alive - they would see him on the LSD. For some reason, the thought of Neglee looking for a dead Sheppard fueled Ronon's anger further. It was unreasonable, but it felt like betrayal. Before Ronon could snap a reprimand at the Major, Neglee suddenly was speaking again.
"Sirs, I've got a visual on a body out here."
"A Bandit?" asked Teyla her voice hasty and desperate.
"Looks that way," Neglee answered. Teyla and Rodney sighed in relief. "He's a big redhead. Dressed like the others."
"Major, can you land and search the immediate area? If Sheppard was there, he may still be nearby." Ronon was feeling the agitation of impatience. He was ready to get out there, to begin the search.
"Nah, I got nowhere to land. The trees are really thick here, and this ridge looks like the border of a rocky river valley. It's even more overgrown than the forest above. I can't even see to the bottom of the slope in this light."
"Understood." Ronon suddenly whipped around to face the team of Marines. It was time to take action. He gestured at Aja and his wife who were standing quietly together just outside the cellar doors, each holding a small child. Lt. Walker held the two oldest, one on each arm, and was bouncing them into the air, laughing with them when they giggled and squealed. "Lorne, pick a couple of men to escort these people to the Stargate. The rest of us are going after Sheppard."
"Yessir." Lorne jerked his head at Walker who, still grinning, pointed at his buddy Jones. The two Marines soon had the family moving towards the Stargate and safety.
Ronon watched them go, giving the remaining men a moment to settle their gear and ready themselves to move again. He made one last sweep with his eyes around the group, resting last on Teyla who's expression was equally eager and determined.
"Move out," he ordered, turning his face into the watery sun that was slowly dropping towards the horizon.
Ronon set a fast pace, squinting as he walked. Several of the men pulled out sunglasses or unfolded caps to protect their eyes from the flickers and occasional penetrating beam of intense, late afternoon sunlight. The little gesture of the lieutenant running next to him - a simple flick of the pocket flap and shimmy of the shades over squinting eyes - reminded Ronon of Sheppard's preference for glasses over a hat or visor, and the knot of anxiety sank deeper into his chest. Every step they took was a step Sheppard had also taken - by himself and with bandits on his tail; the thought sped his feet even faster. The group shifted from a quick walk into a slow jog. Not a man grumbled. Every one of them felt the urgency of the search. The jumper skimmed the length of the ridge for a few more minutes, then returned to join them in aerial escort.
Thirty minutes later, about halfway to their destination, McKay finally succumbed to the unpleasant exertion and blurted out a petulant, "Holy Cow! How far did that man run for crying out loud? He said he was going to double back! Not double the record for the longest escape route ever!"
"The bandits must have had other plans," Teyla chided, her usual humor absent. Rodney must have heard the edge in her voice because he resisted further complaints, although the muttering coming from his general direction increased in ferocity as they ran on and on.
The dull monotony of placing one foot in front of the other was interrupted with heart-jolting abruptness when the Marine on point suddenly froze, holding his fisted hand at shoulder height. The rest of the Atlantian soldiers froze just as suddenly, every weapon in ready position, every eye keenly scanning the seemingly empty forest around them. The lead Marine pointed into the forest, signed the code for enemy and looked at Ronon for a command. Ronon understood.
An instant later, the receiver in Ronon's ear crackled to life as the jumper radioed. "Sir, you're getting close to that group of bandits that's returning to the village. They're about 400 yards on your 3 o'clock. They haven't changed course, so I don't think they've spotted you."
Ronon only nodded, maintaining silence. That soldier has good eyes, he thought. Making sure he had the attention of everyone in the group, Ronon sent Lorne and the rest after the bandits with a few concise gestures. Lorne added a few of his own, then the six men stalked off towards their unsuspecting targets.
Ronon, Teyla and McKay - leaning heavily on his knees and trying to catch his breath - stood still for the few minutes it took Lorne's strike team to engage the bandits, and then set off again towards Sheppard's assumed last position the instant they heard gunfire erupt. Lorne and the jumper would catch up. Ronon didn't want to waste a minute getting to the site himself.
It took another 20 minutes to reach the long, sharp drop-off of stone and gravel that the Jumper had spotted an hour before. Neglee guided them North along its edge to reach the spot where the dead bandit lay. Refreshed with a new surge of anticipation and concern, the team raced towards the body, loudly calling Sheppard's name as they went. Only the rustling leaves answered and Ronon was beginning to realize that Sheppard wasn't just hiding nearby, waiting for them to show up and pop out with a smirk and a smart-mouthed comment about how long it had taken them to get here. He supposed he'd known that already; Sheppard would have flagged down the jumper if he was just waiting on them. The thought was not comforting. The continued absence of his friend suddenly snapped into sharp focus as they neared the sprawled, still form of the bandit.
"Jumper 2, relay a message to Walker at the Stargate. Have them contact Atlantis and put a med-evac team on standby."
"Right away, sir," answered Neglee. Teyla and Rodney turned to stare at him in puzzled shock. Ronon returned their looks with a serious expression.
"There's no reason Sheppard shouldn't be waiting around for us to pick him up. He knows the bandits left an hour ago. He's either not here or..."
"He is injured and unable to make contact," Teyla finished, wrapping her arms around herself as they drew up and stood solemnly around the red-headed bandit.
Ronon crouched, studying the body and the ground around them carefully. The bandit had been shot through the heart at very close range. He had fallen where he lay, dead before he hit the ground. Ronon touched the rocky soil at the bandit's feet; there had been a scuffle and...three sets of prints were overlapping in the dirt within a small area. He brushed away the leaves that had drifted over the site in the intervening hour, and stood up to get a higher perspective. The struggle seemed to have worked its way close to the slope's edge.
Teyla and Rodney wandered away a few steps. Ronon could sense them peering into the forest around them, still somehow hoping for a glimpse of Sheppard against all reason...and against all fear. Teyla moved closer to the dropoff, tilted her face into the wind. A sudden sharp gasp yanked Ronon out of his studies to turn hastily towards her.
"Ronon..." her voice trailed off and she just pointed down the slope to the ground below. Rodney raced to her side, stiffening as he also looked down.
"Oh...no." The scientist's voice was soft with shock.
Blood rushed to Ronon's head as he joined them and followed their shocked gazes. Part fury, part horror, part screaming hot grief flooded his chest and he dropped to one knee, covering his mouth with his hand to stifle the howl of rage that longed to escape.
A figure lay sprawled on its stomach far below on the forest floor, half-buried in leaves and looking almost peaceful in its utter stillness. The face was obscured, but the leather jacket was painfully familiar, the trim tailoring obviously of Earth style and obviously unlike the rough, woolen dusters the bandits all wore. A single, ragged hole in the middle of the jacket's back was visible even from the top of the ridge, the puckered edges interrupting the otherwise smooth surface of the leather. A shock of dark hair lay motionless against a bright pillow of fall colors.
“Sheppard.”
Significant Figures, Part 2