Action/Adventure, Week 1: "The Sting" (2/2)
Title: “The Sting”
Author: Kristen999
Genre:Action/Adventure
Prompt Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight
Word Count: 13,600~
Rating:PG
Warnings:None
Summary: The team has to go undercover to root out the latest threat to Pegasus. A drug dealer trafficking the Wraith enzyme. Who’s going to con who? And most importantly. Who has the coolest costume? Team fic. Lots of guns, fights, and insults.
Part 1
Two groups of men hung around the back of a wagon while one poor slob unloaded a set of small crates.
They had all the elements for a drug deal.
Buyers and sellers. Check.
Guns. Check.
Lots of testosterone. Check.
What didn't belong? One cocky Air Force pilot. Check.
“Hey guys?” Sheppard smiled, his P-90 at ready. Twelve rifles swung in his direction. “I'd be careful where you pointed those.”
Teyla took aim at the wagon and demonstrated the firepower of sixty rounds a second, whittling the wooden vehicle into pieces. She circled behind the bewildered drug dealers while Ronon took the opposite side.
Rodney took a position across from Ronon, the four of them covering the bad guys from all four angles and perfecting the square in his head. This was a method they used often because mathematically it worked, even if Sheppard preferred putting himself in front of Rodney in all potential gun battles. But this op required a bit more flash and the four of them had to appear equally challenging.
That didn't stop Sheppard from drawing the most interest. “Now that we have your attention, I thought we'd have a chat.”
Rodney recognized Troff right away. He still wore the same dingy clothes and heavy jacket. It was a wonder that birds hadn't taken residence in the shaggy rug of his hair. “These are the guys I was telling you about last night.”
The guy in the center didn't carry a weapon and was the most steadfastly cool of the bunch. He held up a hand, signaling his men to stand down. The second group all looked to their leader and at the pudgy man’s nod put their weapons down as well.
Mr. Cool stepped forward. “I'm Dregar, but I think you already know that. So, you're the newcomers who made a big show. I'm curious. For a group who claims to have an endless supply of our product, why do you feel the need to try to steal mine?”
“We're not.” Sheppard kept his weapon trained on Dregar and focused his attention on the second group. “I wanted to tell your buyers about the competition in town.”
Dregar's left eye twitched, the only indication of the rage that had to be brewing underneath his skin. With his tall, slender build and shoulder-length dirty blond hair he was the spitting image of Elrond from Lord of the Rings. Rodney only quit staring at the drug dealer after Teyla gave him a quizzical expression.
Right. Back in character. He was a brilliant, no nonsense chemist. Doing a tête-à-tête with the Elf King. An evil Elf King.
Dregar folded his hands behind his back in complete calm. “What competition? I've been running things in this galaxy for over a solar cycle. Never heard of you.”
“It's a big galaxy. We know of your operations in this sector, how you were unable to fulfill orders on P4X-276 and P8X-925, leaving your clients in the dust.”
“If you can't pay, you can't play.”
“At your price, yeah. See that's where we got you beat,” Sheppard said smugly, walking away from the dealer as if he wasn't worth his time. He strolled confidently towards the pudgy leader of the second group. “We can provide you with whatever you need for half the price.”
“That's drenk !” Dregar spun around and everyone's trigger fingers got real itchy. “We have outposts on dozens of planets, raiding and hunting parties for cullings. A lab to harvest the venom and a distribution system that can't be matched! There are only four of you.”
“That you know of, but I'll let my team introduce themselves,” Sheppard gestured.
Teyla's voice alone had the power to instill fear and gain respect. She faced Dregar without batting an eyelash and any idiot would think twice before messing with her. On a normal day she was an imposing figure, lithe and strong. On this mission, the wicked tattoos and leather accented her deadly persona.
“I am Teyla and Wraith blood flows in my veins. I use their taint to track their ships, their hives. I can sense them at great distances, making it easy to stalk them. But most of all...” She paused dramatically and stared at those who had her rapt attention. “...I can operate their technology. Fly their ships, read their minds and learn all their secrets.”
It wasn't a huge stretch from the truth. And there was no way of proving or disproving any of it. But Rodney didn't think anyone had enough brains to question her story. Not when she had them wrapped around her little finger.
“What secrets?” Pudgy Guy asked with interest. “Word around town is you guys can make the venom without the Wraith. Is that true?”
“Yes. But I'll let the big brain here explain things.”
Rodney blinked at Sheppard. “Yes, of course.”
Show time.
“I could dazzle you with facts and chemical equations that would make your head spin. But, maybe a taste would be in order.” Rodney pulled out the stupid black briefcase he'd been forced to carry around and popped it open. “This is artificially produced enzyme. Created in a lab. It's just as pure and just as potent as the real deal. And the best thing about it is I can create as much as I want.”
“And at a fraction of the cost,” Sheppard added, reeling the buyers in.
“No one can reproduce the venom. I have had one of the smartest Genii scientists working on a way since we began and he said it was impossible,” Dregar spat.
“Your first mistake was trusting a Genii. The second was calling him smart. They're mere children playing in a grownup's game,” Rodney mocked.
“And who are you?” Pudgy asked.
“I'm a genius. But you may refer to me as The Chemist.” Rodney grinned, his heart pounding, his palms sweaty. But he was feeling it, feeling the rush. Now he knew what it was like to be Batman. Super-cool and incognito.
“You don't look like a smart guy,” Dregar challenged.
“His lab coat is back home.” Sheppard shrugged.
Pudgy whispered to his cohorts, all of them eying Rodney's briefcase. “And you and him?” The guy pointed at Ronon.
“Ronon takes care of my problems.” Conan twirled his blaster, his hulking size enough of a statement. Sheppard smirked, the sunlight reflecting off his shades, guns poking from under his Wraith jacket. “And I'm the deal maker. So, what d’ya say we talk terms?”
“I want to try it,” Pudgy stared at the briefcase eagerly, nearly salivating.
“Malick, we had a deal,” Dregar growled.
“We discussed a deal; money has not exchanged hands,” the buyer replied, almost tripping over himself to get his sample.
This was it. Three days straight with Todd cooking up a compound generated to ensure a human heart continued to beat during a feeding. A complex protein catalyst of over four thousand biochemical reactions a million times faster than any other in the body. His sample had to reproduce methamphetamine with the properties of adrenaline and the euphoria of an opiate.
And it couldn't really make anyone super strong or paranoid, just make them think it did.
Malick grabbed the injector, but Rodney held onto it. “A taste is free, just remember that,” he said using his best Bruce Wayne voice.
Malick squinted at the hypo, taking forever to figure out that the pointed end was indeed the correct direction and injected it into his forearm. The buyer squeezed his eyes closed, sucked in a breath, and every tendon and muscle tensed. “Yeaaaah, this feels right.”
“Doesn't matter. Even if it works, you have no mode of transport like we do,” Dregar sneered. “You're out of your league.” The drug lord pulled out a radio. “Wendall, show our new friends our might.”
There was a loud and grinding noise. Rodney watched Sheppard grimace in pain at the sound of an engine in desperate need of repair. A clunky ship, slightly larger than a jumper, flew over the treetops, a clunker made of spare parts pieced together from scrap. It had to be a reject from the Travelers and it wouldn't' surprise him if it leaked fuel.
“This ship is capable of flying from planet to planet. Able to carry our loads to worlds with an orbital gate and shoot down Wraith ships. We've captured many Wraith this way.” Dregar drew himself up, and looked Sheppard right in the eye. “You also can't match our firepower.” He tapped a remote radio, undoubtedly another piece of stolen tech. “A little demonstration is in order.”
Large caliber machine guns turned the trees into mulch. Ordnance from the WWII era was impressive by Pegasus standards. He wondered how a bunch of punks got their hands on such advanced weaponry. By the way the vein throbbed in Sheppard's temple, the colonel was dying to know as well.
Ronon and Teyla didn't react; their training kept them in character. Dregar had a typical villain-like manic grin, savoring the moment. The rust bucket hovered over the forest reduced to paper products.
“I'll be raising the price, Malick. My previous rate is for loyal customers.” Dregar wiped the dust away from his coat. “As you can see, there's a reason why I control things on Darmous. No one can undermine me.”
“Undermine? No. But we can top you.” Sheppard grabbed his own radio. “Lorne, clean up this air pollution.”
A jumper shimmered out of nowhere and fired a well aimed drone at the ground under the clunker. The explosion took out the piece of junk. The scrap heap plummeted to the ground, the force of the impact nearly knocking everyone off their feet.
“I'm sorry. Did I forget to mention we have ships of our own? Invisible ships?” The colonel pulled Malick to his feet, a stupid grin plastered on his face. “We'll be in touch. And our price still stands.” Sheppard covered the flabbergasted group with his P-90. Teyla and Ronon backed away with their weapons trained.
“Your days here are numbered. Take your ball and go home and don't look back. You don't want to make me angry,” Sheppard warned.
“You won't like me when I'm angry,” Rodney mumbled under his breath.
Blowing up the big drug lord's ship made you a celebrity. Blowing up said hunk of flying space junk with a more impressive ship made you a deity.
Or perhaps a Jedi Master. Rodney would gladly accept the role of Yoda.
They had their own corner table in the bar with a parade of people lined up to speak to them. Nothing generated buzz like a gossip mill and it was working overtime to help establish their reputations. Sheppard was the hip new Godfather, negotiating to replace Dregar's deals with more planets than they had ever imagined.
“How many worlds has he infected with this addiction?” Sheppard whispered.
“Thirteen,” Teyla replied.
Thirteen. And who knew how many more.
“Now we have all the contacts.” Ronon smiled wolfishly.
Every deal garnered all the details needed to shut down those operations. And the best part? No one demanded proof of their supply. Not when word of mouth had distorted the facts to the point that people didn't think to ask. Rodney understood now how all those Wall Street sharks had been able to dupe so many supposedly smart people out of their fortunes.
A teenager who didn't look old enough to drink stuck to the back of the bar, eyes roaming a crowd more interested in getting to the bottom of their mugs. Teyla spotted the drifter and rose from her seat. “It is my contact from last night.”
“Him?” Rodney gawked.
The kid wandered over casually. “I have more information.”
“And we will gladly pay for it if it is as good as last time,” Teyla acknowledged.
“Are those Wraith symbols?” the boy asked, staring at the swirls and patterns of her tattoos.
“They are.”
“And you can really hear them? Can link to their minds?”
Teyla narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”
“What do they think? I mean...why do they do the things they do?”
“Because they can. The weak always fall prey to the strong. Until the day we rise up and prove them wrong.”
The kid swallowed then broadened his shoulders. “I know when Dregar is going to transport a major shipment of Wraith venom.”
“Where?” Sheppard leaned in.
The boy stood taller. “I want your jacket.”
“Sorry, it doesn't belong to you.”
“But--”
Sheppard grabbed the informant by the collar and pulled him forward until their noses almost touched. “This isn't about money or prizes. Tell us and we'll crush Dregar into the ground,” he rasped so low, his scratchy tone almost muffled it.
People bent on revenge were willing to do anything to achieve it. Sheppard didn't ask the kid for his story. Was a brother or sibling addicted to the enzyme? Were they dead? Who knew. But the teenager spilled the beans about the route of a major convoy loaded with product and he didn't ask for more money.
Sheppard had that glint in his eyes again. “Let's see how our drug lord reacts when we torch some of his supplies.”
A roadside bomb of C-4 reduced Dregar's wagons into a pile of splinters. No need to get into a shootout when you didn't have to.
“Last time I checked we were a gate team. You know. Explore and investigate. Nowhere do the words S.W.A.T or D.E.A. appear in the description.” Rodney watched their six to make sure they hadn't been followed. “You really think they're gonna know it was us?”
“I think Colonel Sheppard waved at Dregar's men afterwards,” Teyla responded.
The plan was to flush the bad guys out, to have them make mistakes under pressure. If they took out Dregar, someone else would take his place. They needed to locate the engine of his operation and destroy it.
Rodney covered a yawn. “Hey, I thought we were headed to bed? This looks like the way to the tavern.”
“I'm thirsty,” Ronon said.
Sheppard held the door open for Teyla. “And we're not splitting up.”
“Could we get it to go? There's no law that says that we can't.” There was no law enforcement, period. Grabbing a sixty ounce cup was shot down but Rodney wondered if they served food. Places like this always had good-old fashioned skewers of meat.
The bar was quiet. Only a few people glanced up from nursing their drinks. The table in the back was occupied and Ronon made a beeline for the bar. Someone else was busing the table and nodded at the Satedan. “What’ll y'all have?”
Rodney reached for his stool, debating about asking for water, not wanting to guess what color it might be. Sheppard pulled his aviators off, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Whatever is good.”
The bartender grabbed a jug from the back shelf, the flash of metal the only sign of danger when he spun around.
“Gun!” Ronon shouted, grabbing the muzzle.
Rodney shoved Sheppard to the floor when those in the booth behind them fired, bullets whizzing by where the colonel had stood. It took precious seconds for Rodney to scramble off Sheppard and by the time he did, it was too late.
All the patrons were heavily armed and they all pointed their weapons at the team. Despite knocking out the bartender Ronon held his hands up. He and Teyla were both forced to concede to the overwhelming force. Sheppard's P-90 dangled like a carrot from his vest. One of the goons ripped it from its tether and the idiot pointed the barrel stupidly at his own face.
“Did anyone ever tell you playing with toys was dangerous?”
The thug backhanded Sheppard with a meaty paw, nearly rearranging his jaw. Rodney winced and Ronon and Teyla looked ready to take on the whole room.
“That's enough.” Dregar strutted into the tavern, patting the shoulders of the dozen or so men who had posed as normal patrons. “It's amazing what a little bribery can obtain, don't you think?”
Sheppard shrugged. “It’s easier to buy people than to achieve loyalty.”
“Perhaps.” Dregar smiled, walking over. He didn't reek of enzyme; his long hair was too well groomed and his tan tunic and pants too refined.
“You don't use it, do you?” Rodney couldn't help asking.
“Of course not. Maybe on occasion, but I need my mind intact.”
“This is all about power and money?”
Dregar chuckled. “When is it not?” Even bat-shit insane Ford and his gang had had noble ambitions. Warped, but normal. The drug lord sighed, dusting his vest off. “I just had this cleaned, you know. My Genii scientist insisted that creating the venom without the Wraith was impossible so I slit his throat. It was quite messy. Suffice it to say, I'm going to need a new one.”
“What?” Rodney squeaked as two men who hadn't seen a good razor in years grabbed his arms.
Ronon started forward, the muzzle to his skull the only thing keeping him back. Teyla was furious, her eyes pools of liquid fire.
“I hope you're wrong about loyalty. I'd hate to use more unpleasant methods to persuade my newest employee to cooperate,” Dregar said ruefully.
“My chemist is not for hire,” Sheppard growled, ignoring the rifle shoved into his ribs by a nearby thug.
“But he's about to lose his employer.” Dregar turned around, pulling a silver blade from a hidden pocket. “I'm going to cut off your hands and nail them to the outside door to let people know what happens to people who steal from me.” Suddenly the Elf King appeared far more deranged, holding the blood stained weapon for all to see. “Of course, I'll have some fun first. Starting with your ears.”
“Well you know that old saying, right?” Sheppard taunted despite the threat of torture.
Dregar chuckled. “What's that?”
Sheppard squeezed the left button on his coat collar. “Don't bring a knife to a gun fight.”
Rodney plugged his ears and threw himself to the ground. The flash bangs created starbursts behind his closed eyelids and the new sonic grenades only made him want to throw up. He stayed curled in a ball while both his senses were assaulted.
It was pure chaos. Screams, gunfire, stunner blasts. Sight and sound flip-flopped causing him to rake his nails over the hardwood to gain a sense of equilibrium. Things went from a roar to a whimper, but the smell of vomit assaulted his nose.
“Oh, God, I hope I'm dead,” he panted.
Gentle hands helped him into a sitting position. “Deep breaths,” Teyla instructed.
Breathing....yes, oxygen. Rodney clutched at his middle, not trusting to keep his lunch on the inside. He opened his eyes, the lights from the torches forcing them closed. “A little warning next time,” he bitched.
“You knew Lorne was on standby,” Sheppard snapped; a fine sheen of sweat covered his face. He swallowed, spat on the floor and one of the Marines handed him a bottle of water to rinse his mouth.
The goon squad had been reduced to quivering bodies on the floor; only a few were still able to stand. The ops team wore all black body armor and face shields. There were no identification marks on their uniforms and each of them covered a bad guy with assault rifles.
Ronon retrieved his blaster and Teyla helped double check for any hidden weapons. Dregar swayed on his feet next to a foul smelling puddle. “Im-impressive...army”
Sheppard grabbed the man's tunic and yanked him to his tiptoes until they were at eye level. “You have one day to leave this planet. Or risk seeing my real temper.”
Their army threw all the trash out into the street with great enthusiasm. Lorne raised the face shield of his helmet. “You sure about letting them go?”
Sheppard found his P-90 and inspected it for damage. “Yeah. Dregar is a cockroach. We need to find his nest and burn it. The only way to do that is follow him back to his lair.”
“Has anyone thought about changing hotels?” Rodney suggested. “We were ambushed once already tonight.”
“Can't. It is the risk we'll have to take. We need people to know where we are. That's the point,” Sheppard reiterated.
Ronon searched for any activity outside the inn. “If people want us dead, hiding won't help.”
“How comforting,” Rodney sighed. “I for one can't wait to get this coat off.”
The three of them turned in unison. “What? It's not my fault the rest of you are wearing twenty pounds of clothes.”
Ronon scouted out the halls and the three of them inspected their rooms for danger. Sheppard rubbed at the bruise covering his jaw. “McKay's right. We should all hole up in the same room. We'll drag two beds into mine.”
“I never said anything about a sleepover. This is one of the rare times where we each have our own space.” But he was ignored. Rodney gazed longingly at his bed, even if the mattress was hell on his back.
“What do we have here?”
The three of them stood around Sheppard who unfolded a note that'd been shoved under his door. “Think we hit the jackpot.”
“The answer to string theory?”
“No, but it looks like we have the location of Dregar's main warehouse. We take that out and he's out of business.”
“Sounds like a setup,” Ronon grunted.
Teyla searched Sheppard's room for any more surprises and returned. “I agree. We do not know who left this.”
Rodney wandered to a window that overlooked the alley. “We know now.” He saw their informant from earlier. The kid lifted his chin in acknowledgement and walked away.
Sheppard leaned against the wall. “That settles it. We'll get some shuteye and go out at dawn.”
They waited for the Marines to get into position. Lorne's men had tracked Dregar to his lair from the jumper, confirming the authenticity of the note. The pit in Rodney's stomach grew larger by the second, and he checked his tablet PC for any signs of suspicious activity. “Dregar knows we have a small army in our back pocket.”
Sheppard put on his yellow-tinted goggles. “He sure does.”
“And we've hit him twice already,” Rodney warned, switching his glasses for the other eye gear.
“Three if you count reversing that ambush,” Sheppard needlessly reminded Rodney.
“That was sweet,” Ronon crowed.
Sheppard grinned. “Yeah, it was.”
“Will you two stop it? Drug lords have evil reputations for a reason,” Rodney snapped.
“This is what we're been waiting for.” Sheppard looked over. “To take down his whole operation. The warehouse. The lab. And lastly the big Kahuna.”
All four of them still wore their costumes. It was ridiculous; the charade was almost over. In the movies, the music would swell with techno or some awful heavy metal soundtrack, pumping the audience for the final climax.
This was it.
Sheppard tapped his radio. “Teams One and Two, converge on my mark.”
His arms trembled from adrenaline, and Rodney gripped his weapon tighter with sweat-slicked hands. One hundred yards to the front door, an explosion or two later, and Beethoven's 5th would soar and twelve Marines were going to leave nothing but dust.
Sheppard slapped him on the arm. “McKay! You're daydreaming again.”
“No, I wasn't.”
“And you were humming,” Teyla said with a smirk.
“I was?”
“Loudly,” Ronon added.
“Oh.” Rodney rolled his shoulders and loosened his neck like those heavyweight boxers. “Let's do this.”
“Just stay on your toes.” Sheppard clicked his radio. “Now!”
The entrance blew open and the shouting and weapons' fire began. They followed the first Marine squad inside the front doors while the second special ops team stormed through the back. Thick haze filtered from the smoke grenades, confusing all the dumb-witted inside. The bad guys shot badly and wildly.
The Marines were precise, their laser sights taking out Dregar's blinded men in seconds. Red bursts from Ronon's blaster added to the sci-fi special effects of the ongoing battle. Teyla and Sheppard hung back to provide clean-up, catching those trying to flee.
It was pathetic really. Pop-guns vs automatic weapons. Then Rodney's thoughts strayed to the real reason for doing this, for all those left strung out and ripped apart on many worlds. His heart slammed inside his chest and he let out a little war cry, firing at one of Dregar's minions taking aim at Teyla.
She nodded her thanks. Sheppard curled a fist in the air, keeping them in position as he analyzed all the movements. “Teams One and Two, report,” he hissed in his radio.
“The back is secured, sir,” Sergeant Giles responded.
“Still encountering resistance,” Griffin added from deeper inside the warehouse.
“Confirmed. We're on our way,” Sheppard replied, then gestured for them to follow his lead.
Rodney kept up beside him, pulled out his LSD and directed him to all the moving red little dots. Point and fire. Point and fire. And soon all the rats ran out of places to hide.
Four Marines surrounded Dregar who coughed from the smoke; the rest of his men huddled on the ground, their hands zip-tied behind their backs. The drug dealer didn't seem as ruthless surrounded by a black ops team.
“The place is secure, sir.” One of the Marines said, handing Dregar over like a Christmas present.
“Fan out and locate his supplies,” Sheppard ordered, removing his goggles.
Dregar stood defiantly. “Like I said before. Impressive army.”
“Nothing like overwhelming force to clean out the gutters,” the colonel replied.
Rodney listened to the conversation with half an ear, studying his read-outs, and started following them down a hall. Something wasn't right. There was a second level to the building; stranger yet, his LSD couldn't read anything past the outside walls. “Hey, guys.”
Ronon was there instantly, blaster pointed at the door. “What is it?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't stand in front of it,” Ronon said, pushing Rodney away.
“You found something?” Sheppard asked, pointing his P-90 at the entrance.
Why did everyone think a gun made the perfect key? Rodney adjusted his settings. “I'm not sure. There's some kind of interference, but I can tell you there's a basement.”
“Could it be his lab? There have been no reports of locating it yet,” Teyla inquired.
“Giles is babysitting our prisoners.” Sheppard tapped his radio. “Team Two, what's your status?”
“We've found the supply of enzyme. There's got to be three dozen crates or more, sir. We've started securing it.”
“Stand by. There's a sub level we're going to investigate. Keep your eye out for reinforcements.” Sheppard stared at the mysterious door. “Alright, this calls for an escort. We'll let Dregar set off any security measures.”
Ronon hauled the drug lord over and shoved him forward. “Open it.”
“With my hands tied?”
“They're not tied behind your back. Now, do it,” Sheppard ordered.
Dregar flexed his wrists. “It's just a door,” he said, twisting the knob.
Rodney held his breath, and let it out. It was indeed just a door and just a flight of stairs. But he still couldn't detect anything beyond them. Ronon kept a firm grip on the back of Dregar's neck, allowing him to lead them down the steps and into a corridor.
To another door.
Teyla and Sheppard flanked the wooden obstacle and Rodney shook his head at their silent question. There could be a three-ring circus behind it and he wouldn't know. Ronon held his weapon in one hand and pushed Dregar forward with the other.
“I'll share my connections with you. With your venom formula we could all become more powerful together. I have my supply routes. You have the muscle and that invisible ship,” Dregar tried to bargain. “There's no need to destroy my lab. In fact, you might even find some useful things inside.”
“Please, with a Genii as your head of research?” Rodney snorted.
Sheppard was getting testy. “Just open it.”
Dregar let them into a dimly lit room. Rodney could make out buzzing equipment and several work benches as they all walked inside.
The door slammed shut behind them and Rodney recognized the familiar sound of air being pressurized. Before he could shout a warning, four thousand watt spotlights flashed on, blinding them all.
Rodney shielded his eyes with his hands and the room erupted into chaos. There was weapons' fire and movement. Yelling and screaming and grunts of noise. By the time his pupils adjusted to the light, he felt the cold steel of a muzzle pressed to his forehead.
Rodney flinched then rolled his eyes. Of course. Never forget the henchmen. Troff grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and used his body as shield. “Put your weapons down or you won't have anyone to fake the venom.”
“What? You know I'm much more valuable than that,” Rodney complained while getting the layout of the room.
Three other men covered the team with their guns. Blood ran down Ronon's thigh where he'd been hit, but his blaster never wavered in his hand. Teyla and Sheppard canvassed the room for tactical advantage. Four bad guys. Four team members. Normally great odds. Except Rodney was now a hostage and he should've known the bad guys would have one final trick up their sleeves.
Dregar smiled smugly. “Just in case you think about stalling for time. This room is made of an alloy from the Genii home world. Good for jamming Ancestor tech and for sealing the poison gas that filled the rest of the warehouse. I wouldn't count on your army for a daring rescue.”
“Poison gas?” Sheppard growled, low and angry.
Rodney wasn't sure what the colonel was more outraged over. The fact they walked into this trap, or that this was almost the carbon copy ambush used on them by Ladon Radim.
“Knockout gas. The Genii are very good at producing chemical weapons,” Dregar answered.
“And underground bunkers,” Rodney groaned.
Dregar snorted then his face hardened. “Drop your weapons. It would be a shame to splatter your chemist's brains all over the floor.”
Sheppard nodded his acquiescence, his P-90 clattering to the ground. Ronon's blaster followed suit as did Teyla's weapon. One of the goons eagerly gathered them up, taking pleasure in stripping Sheppard of his personal arsenal while the other two bad guys covered the team at a safe distance.
Troff lowered his weapon and Rodney sagged in relief. It was short-lived though. Troff cut Dregar's hands free, and he rubbed at his abraded skin. “All four of you have cost me a lot of money and a great deal of trouble,” Dregar sighed, acting the part of the bored, in control evildoer.
The drug lord prattled about this and that, but Rodney's curiosity always got the best of him and he gazed at all the out-of-date consoles. This room ran on electricity, perhaps a primitive generator. The Genii home world had plumbing. Hell, they had constructed nukes, just not very good ones. It shouldn't have been a surprise that a Genii on a drug dealer's payroll wouldn't have been tinkering away on say…an old rust bucket Travelers’ ship and whatever else was needed to extract and funnel Wraith enzyme. There had to be at least one guy with an I.Q above a ten year-old's to help with an operation this size.
Dregar strolled over to a table covered with schematics, what passed for a computer in the 1950's,and a zillion other bits of tech. He rummaged through the detritus and removed a...ball point pen?
Teyla gave Ronon a worried look; his pant leg was stained red and blood spilled between the fingers he pressed against the wound. She wanted to help, but knew to keep her distance during the tense situation. She communicated silently with Sheppard, but Rodney couldn't decipher what was being said.
“You were talking about a deal earlier?” Sheppard asked hopefully. Even with the odds stacked against them, he still managed to sound cocky.
“Oh, yes, that deal. I was lying, just as you've been. I know you're all from Atlantis. My sources confirmed things today. I expect your backup will be here soon,” Dregar said, twirling the pen-thing. “I want the Wraith venom formula and I'll be on my way.”
“Um,” Rodney stuttered. He was never good at improvisation.
Dregar tapped the small silver cylinder against his cheek. “I don't have time to waste, Chemist. Give me the formula.”
“How about letting us go first.”
He knew what was coming: the veiled threat, the punch to the face to force him to comply. Dregar stood in front of Rodney. “My scientist might not have been as smart as you, but he did have his uses. This little device for instance. When inserted, it sends out a small electrical burst that will stop a person's heart for a few seconds.” Dregar stepped so close Rodney could see his madness, his glee at the prospect of torture. “Every two minutes it'll send out a stronger pulse. Every two minutes the person’s heart will stop longer and longer until it simply doesn't beat anymore.”
Rodney dried swallowed. “Yeah?” It was supposed to sound tough. Like oh yeah? But came out a squeak.
Dregar tapped the device against Rodney's chin. “I was told you were not for sale the other day. That money couldn't buy loyalty. I believe that.”
Rodney blew a sigh of relief when Dregar backed away. From the looks of things, the rest of his team released quiet ones of their own. He had little doubt that any of them would have allowed Dregar to follow up on his threat.
“So, give me the formula out of loyalty,” Dregar announced.
Before Rodney could react, the drug lord whirled around and stabbed Sheppard. The colonel grunted, the tiny cylinder a surreal thing that stuck out of his chest above his heart. There was only a little blood and hell, Sheppard had been injured far worse. But he stared down at the object in confusion, hand poised to yank out the offending thing.
“I wouldn't touch it. Pulling the device out will release a lethal toxin that'll kill you instantly.”
Dregar was blissful in full villain mode. Ronon and Teyla looked like they were about to beat the crap out of someone. Sheppard still glared in morbid fascination at the thing in his chest.
Then he gasped, grimacing in pain as his whole body coiled in on itself. “Ow.”
“In two minutes the next one will be worse,” Dregar threatened.
“I'll give you the formula, but stop this!” Rodney snarled.
“I'll deactivate the device only after I possess the formula.”
Rodney glared at the drug lord then pulled his tablet out of his backpack. “Fine, just give me...give me a minute.
“You have plenty; not sure how many your friend has,” Dregar answered.
Think, think, think. There was no formula to the artificial enzyme. But Dregar wouldn't believe him. He'd think it was a trick. Just give him what he wants, Rodney thought. Got it make it look real, any complex chemical compound would do. He could create those in his sleep-he actually did when solutions didn't come to him when he was awake.
His fingers rat-ta-tap-tapped on the keyboard, creating three-D models of what he used to cook up the placebo with Todd. Sheppard sucked in a breath behind him. The guttural noises that followed gave Rodney chest pains.
“Here.” He thrust the PC tablet into Dregar's hands. “Now deactivate it.”
“Do you honestly think I could find anyone who could read this, let alone re-create it? No, you're coming with me,” Dregar said, grabbing his bicep. He looked up at his cronies. “Keep guard. If anyone twitches, kill them.” He looked down at Sheppard who panted to catch his breath. “Except him,” he chuckled.
“Wait, where are you going?” Troff demanded.
“You fool. Our ship is still broken. I'm going to make our newest member fix it. Then we'll all load up and leave.”
“I'm not going anywhere until you help Sheppard!”
Dregar squeezed Rodney's arm harder. “Once the ship is running I'll deactivate it. You have my word.”
“McKay's not going with you,” Sheppard growled.
“Shut up! Talking here!” Rodney snapped. “It'll take ten minutes at least to get there, start up the ship, and come back. Sheppard can't survive that long!”
Dregar pulled out what appeared to be a key chain. “Get the ship started and I can do it remotely.”
The device inside Sheppard's chest was like a mini-defibrillator and the next jolt sent him to his knees. This time he dug his hand into his sternum and his face went ten shades of pale. Each mini-attack would get worse and worse and who knew the type of damage that was being done to the heart muscle.
Teyla moved next to Sheppard, holding on to his shoulder until the attack dissipated. Ronon stood over both of them, a statue of strength despite the spreading redness down his thigh. Rodney pointed a finger at the big guy. “Put a bandage on that!” He faced Sheppard. “I'll be back.”
“If anything happens to him, you're dead,” Ronon vowed.
“Time's ticking,” Dregar mocked as they headed to the door. It took a moment for the entrance to unseal and for a brief second Rodney panicked about any gas vapor. But there wasn't time for that, even if his brain started calculating the parts per million of airborne residuals that still remained. The drug lord never released his arm and it was like dragging forward a dead weight. “I thought you were in a hurry?”
They were inside the hallway headed toward the first step.
“Did you use your ship to get here?”
“What?” Rodney glanced at his watch. They were ten seconds from the next pulse.
“Your invisible ship. Is it outside?”
“Yeah, who cares?” Rodney snarled, trying to squirm out of the iron grip. That was going to leave a spectacular bruise.
They were on the fifth step. Come on!
“And you can pilot it?”
“Of course. Can we hurry up?” But Dregar's words were finally registering and he froze, turning around. “We're not going to your ship, are we?”
Dregar chuckled. “We transported it back, but it’s completely inoperable. Too bad Troff is too stupid to realize that. You and your friends ruined my whole operation. Now I'm going to start a new one.”
“What?”
“Men are expendable. You and your artificial venom are not. I can start over. Better, stronger. And with your help, even the mighty Atlantis will be unable to stop me.”
They were right outside the door to the main warehouse and Rodney felt his stomach knot. “Your remote. It doesn't work.”
“Of course not. It's a slow, painful way to die, isn't it? I once watched a rival suffer eight attacks before his heart gave out.”
Dregar didn't even have a gun on him. Like Rodney didn't chart on any kind of threat level. He wore a black leather coat, and a necklace of Wraith teeth rattled under his shirt. He might as well be in that stupid lab coat. None of that mattered, did it?
Just his resolve. And it was boiling hot.
It was a game. Peddling poison for wealth and control. Rodney felt a rare type of anger, the kind that came on suddenly and took over all rational thought.
“You're right. You don't know anything about loyalty.” Rodney stuck out his leg at the edge of the stairs and shoved Dregar with all his might.
It was all about physics; the drug lord tried to snag Rodney's vest but couldn't control his momentum. Dregar lost his footing and fell down the entire flight of metal steps, his body slamming into all of them, until his head cracked on the last one.
“Oh, God,” Rodney breathed, hands gripping the rails.
The hallway below exploded into footsteps and Teyla nearly tripped over the body. She stared dumbstruck for a second then looked up. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I mean...I think.”
“We need you...it's John.”
“What about the bad guys?”
Teyla looked disappointed that even had to ask. “We took care of them.”
How much time had elapsed? Seconds? Minutes? Rodney was a blur of motion and Teyla raced to keep up with him. Ronon sat on the floor and held up Sheppard by the shoulders while the colonel struggled to breathe.
“Lay him flat!” Rodney shouted. He had the first aid for heart attacks memorized since it was one of his biggest fears.
Ronon eased Sheppard down and Rodney crouched on the floor, battling his rapid breathing. Calm. He had to stay calm, never mind that Sheppard was dying right in front of him. “Um...okay. Propping up his feet helps force blood to his heart,” he yammered.
Teyla folded up her jacket and used it to elevate Sheppard's legs. Then she took out another pressure bandage to start tending to Ronon's leg. Rodney stared at the silver cylinder that protruded out, the evil thing gearing up for another cycle.
Sweat plastered Sheppard's hair to his forehead and his body trembled. His lips were blue and his eyes were squeezed closed in pain.
“How many attacks have there been?”
“That was the fifth one,” Ronon grunted, looking pretty pale himself.
“I will go upstairs to see if any of our men are awake to get the jumper or I'll get some help,” Teyla informed them even though she clearly didn't want to leave.
Rodney pressed both hands to Sheppard's chest, felt it rise and fall beneath his fingers.
“Just pull it out!” Ronon growled.
“I can't! It might....”
“It's already killing him,” Ronon snarled.
Rodney was thankful for whatever restraint Ronon used to keep from doing it already. Okay. Focus. Stop the electrical pulse. He didn't have a jammer. He had nothing to overload it.
Sheppard jackknifed and he gasped for air, fingers clawing Rodney's shirtsleeves. Sheppard's eyes flew wide open, pupils large and naked and scared. Then Sheppard's hands grew lax, dropping to his sides and his rigid body went deathly still.
Ronon cursed, practically vibrated behind him.
Rodney gripped the silver device, counting the seconds when it would start Sheppard's heart back up. He ran his fingers over all sides, searching for indentions, for tiny panels. Anything and everything that would give him a clue as to how to shut it down. But it was all smooth curves with only one tiny uneven point.
Sixty long seconds ticked by and Sheppard's body shuddered and he gasped awake. His eyes were glassy and there was very little left to his voice. “I'm....kind of....sick of this,” he panted.
“Believe me, this isn't a picnic on my end!”
How would a Genii program it? Make it so a child could use it. “It couldn't be?” Rodney breathed.
“What?” Ronon demanded.
Rodney pressed a tiny button on the side and waited. Sheppard breathed nosily, his face covered with perspiration. All of them waited, Rodney glued to his watch. When the next two minute mark hit, nothing happened.
“Huh.”
Sheppard blinked up at him in a daze. “What...what did you do?”
Rodney cleared his throat. “Um. Turned it off.”
“Oh, never thought of that,” Sheppard said in honest shock, before closing his eyes in relief.
Rodney claimed the end of the sofa to hog all the fluffy pillows. He had a bowl of fresh popcorn with extra butter and a diet soda won in a game puzzle quest. Tonight was his turn to pick the movie and he looked forward to watching a remastered version of Blade Runner.
He heard Ronon clomping into the rec room before he saw him. He tossed his crutches into a corner and hobbled over, snagging one of the pillows.
“Hey! That's mine.”
“You can try to take it back,” Ronon dared, propping his legs up and claiming the rest of the couch.
“Do you mind? I don't want to smell your stinky feet.”
“Am I going to have to put both of you in the corner?” Sheppard asked, carrying a tray of sandwiches. Teyla walked behind him with a bowl of ice cream.
“Hey? Where did you get that?” Rodney rocketed to his feet, eying the dessert.
She smiled. “A woman never reveals her secrets.”
Sheppard pushed the other sofa in the room over and plopped down with a satisfied sigh. “I've been waiting all day for this. Been stuck in meetings with Woolsey for six hours.”
Rodney grimaced. “Still have to wear that heart monitor?”
“Nope, which is good. That thing was like a portable lie detector.”
“Is there something you were trying to hide?” Teyla asked as she scooped up a mound of chocolate with her spoon.
Sheppard unwrapped the plastic around his sandwich. “No, but the beeping was driving me crazy.”
“Did Lorne come back from the mission?” Ronon asked.
“Yeah. He's used the intel to track down Dregar's Wraith hunting operations on two planets. They found another beat-up old ship and took it out, but it's going to take a while to track down all the parts of his network. It was pretty widespread.” Sheppard sprawled out his lanky legs. “We derailed things for now, but it's going to take a lot of manpower to keep on it. Woolsey isn't sure how much the SGC is willing to pony up for the extra resources.”
“The war on drugs doesn't work very well on Earth and has billions of dollars,” Rodney grouched.
“Well, it is a start,” Teyla reiterated. She looked at the blank screen and back up at him. “What are we watching tonight?'
Rodney rubbed his hands together and pressed the start button on the remote. “A classic.”
When a familiar voiceover didn't start and Harrison Ford's name was replace by George Clooney's, he glared at Sheppard. “What the hell is this?”
“Ocean's 13. Better than 12. Tried to find The Sting, but it wasn't in the library.”
“We just survived a big con game. I don't want to watch a movie about it!”
“I don't know. I think it's a good representation. Maybe you could take notes for next time.” Sheppard grinned.
“Notes?”
“I could get Tombstone,” Ronon offered, beginning to stand.
“No!” Rodney huffed, crossing his arms.
But he rubbed the side of his chin, thinking about a certain piano tune, only to have the theme to Miami Vice start up again. He slumped down defeated in his seat, wondering why he punished himself this way.
Illustration by astridv
Author: Kristen999
Genre:Action/Adventure
Prompt Don’t bring a knife to a gun fight
Word Count: 13,600~
Rating:PG
Warnings:None
Summary: The team has to go undercover to root out the latest threat to Pegasus. A drug dealer trafficking the Wraith enzyme. Who’s going to con who? And most importantly. Who has the coolest costume? Team fic. Lots of guns, fights, and insults.
Part 1
Two groups of men hung around the back of a wagon while one poor slob unloaded a set of small crates.
They had all the elements for a drug deal.
Buyers and sellers. Check.
Guns. Check.
Lots of testosterone. Check.
What didn't belong? One cocky Air Force pilot. Check.
“Hey guys?” Sheppard smiled, his P-90 at ready. Twelve rifles swung in his direction. “I'd be careful where you pointed those.”
Teyla took aim at the wagon and demonstrated the firepower of sixty rounds a second, whittling the wooden vehicle into pieces. She circled behind the bewildered drug dealers while Ronon took the opposite side.
Rodney took a position across from Ronon, the four of them covering the bad guys from all four angles and perfecting the square in his head. This was a method they used often because mathematically it worked, even if Sheppard preferred putting himself in front of Rodney in all potential gun battles. But this op required a bit more flash and the four of them had to appear equally challenging.
That didn't stop Sheppard from drawing the most interest. “Now that we have your attention, I thought we'd have a chat.”
Rodney recognized Troff right away. He still wore the same dingy clothes and heavy jacket. It was a wonder that birds hadn't taken residence in the shaggy rug of his hair. “These are the guys I was telling you about last night.”
The guy in the center didn't carry a weapon and was the most steadfastly cool of the bunch. He held up a hand, signaling his men to stand down. The second group all looked to their leader and at the pudgy man’s nod put their weapons down as well.
Mr. Cool stepped forward. “I'm Dregar, but I think you already know that. So, you're the newcomers who made a big show. I'm curious. For a group who claims to have an endless supply of our product, why do you feel the need to try to steal mine?”
“We're not.” Sheppard kept his weapon trained on Dregar and focused his attention on the second group. “I wanted to tell your buyers about the competition in town.”
Dregar's left eye twitched, the only indication of the rage that had to be brewing underneath his skin. With his tall, slender build and shoulder-length dirty blond hair he was the spitting image of Elrond from Lord of the Rings. Rodney only quit staring at the drug dealer after Teyla gave him a quizzical expression.
Right. Back in character. He was a brilliant, no nonsense chemist. Doing a tête-à-tête with the Elf King. An evil Elf King.
Dregar folded his hands behind his back in complete calm. “What competition? I've been running things in this galaxy for over a solar cycle. Never heard of you.”
“It's a big galaxy. We know of your operations in this sector, how you were unable to fulfill orders on P4X-276 and P8X-925, leaving your clients in the dust.”
“If you can't pay, you can't play.”
“At your price, yeah. See that's where we got you beat,” Sheppard said smugly, walking away from the dealer as if he wasn't worth his time. He strolled confidently towards the pudgy leader of the second group. “We can provide you with whatever you need for half the price.”
“That's drenk !” Dregar spun around and everyone's trigger fingers got real itchy. “We have outposts on dozens of planets, raiding and hunting parties for cullings. A lab to harvest the venom and a distribution system that can't be matched! There are only four of you.”
“That you know of, but I'll let my team introduce themselves,” Sheppard gestured.
Teyla's voice alone had the power to instill fear and gain respect. She faced Dregar without batting an eyelash and any idiot would think twice before messing with her. On a normal day she was an imposing figure, lithe and strong. On this mission, the wicked tattoos and leather accented her deadly persona.
“I am Teyla and Wraith blood flows in my veins. I use their taint to track their ships, their hives. I can sense them at great distances, making it easy to stalk them. But most of all...” She paused dramatically and stared at those who had her rapt attention. “...I can operate their technology. Fly their ships, read their minds and learn all their secrets.”
It wasn't a huge stretch from the truth. And there was no way of proving or disproving any of it. But Rodney didn't think anyone had enough brains to question her story. Not when she had them wrapped around her little finger.
“What secrets?” Pudgy Guy asked with interest. “Word around town is you guys can make the venom without the Wraith. Is that true?”
“Yes. But I'll let the big brain here explain things.”
Rodney blinked at Sheppard. “Yes, of course.”
Show time.
“I could dazzle you with facts and chemical equations that would make your head spin. But, maybe a taste would be in order.” Rodney pulled out the stupid black briefcase he'd been forced to carry around and popped it open. “This is artificially produced enzyme. Created in a lab. It's just as pure and just as potent as the real deal. And the best thing about it is I can create as much as I want.”
“And at a fraction of the cost,” Sheppard added, reeling the buyers in.
“No one can reproduce the venom. I have had one of the smartest Genii scientists working on a way since we began and he said it was impossible,” Dregar spat.
“Your first mistake was trusting a Genii. The second was calling him smart. They're mere children playing in a grownup's game,” Rodney mocked.
“And who are you?” Pudgy asked.
“I'm a genius. But you may refer to me as The Chemist.” Rodney grinned, his heart pounding, his palms sweaty. But he was feeling it, feeling the rush. Now he knew what it was like to be Batman. Super-cool and incognito.
“You don't look like a smart guy,” Dregar challenged.
“His lab coat is back home.” Sheppard shrugged.
Pudgy whispered to his cohorts, all of them eying Rodney's briefcase. “And you and him?” The guy pointed at Ronon.
“Ronon takes care of my problems.” Conan twirled his blaster, his hulking size enough of a statement. Sheppard smirked, the sunlight reflecting off his shades, guns poking from under his Wraith jacket. “And I'm the deal maker. So, what d’ya say we talk terms?”
“I want to try it,” Pudgy stared at the briefcase eagerly, nearly salivating.
“Malick, we had a deal,” Dregar growled.
“We discussed a deal; money has not exchanged hands,” the buyer replied, almost tripping over himself to get his sample.
This was it. Three days straight with Todd cooking up a compound generated to ensure a human heart continued to beat during a feeding. A complex protein catalyst of over four thousand biochemical reactions a million times faster than any other in the body. His sample had to reproduce methamphetamine with the properties of adrenaline and the euphoria of an opiate.
And it couldn't really make anyone super strong or paranoid, just make them think it did.
Malick grabbed the injector, but Rodney held onto it. “A taste is free, just remember that,” he said using his best Bruce Wayne voice.
Malick squinted at the hypo, taking forever to figure out that the pointed end was indeed the correct direction and injected it into his forearm. The buyer squeezed his eyes closed, sucked in a breath, and every tendon and muscle tensed. “Yeaaaah, this feels right.”
“Doesn't matter. Even if it works, you have no mode of transport like we do,” Dregar sneered. “You're out of your league.” The drug lord pulled out a radio. “Wendall, show our new friends our might.”
There was a loud and grinding noise. Rodney watched Sheppard grimace in pain at the sound of an engine in desperate need of repair. A clunky ship, slightly larger than a jumper, flew over the treetops, a clunker made of spare parts pieced together from scrap. It had to be a reject from the Travelers and it wouldn't' surprise him if it leaked fuel.
“This ship is capable of flying from planet to planet. Able to carry our loads to worlds with an orbital gate and shoot down Wraith ships. We've captured many Wraith this way.” Dregar drew himself up, and looked Sheppard right in the eye. “You also can't match our firepower.” He tapped a remote radio, undoubtedly another piece of stolen tech. “A little demonstration is in order.”
Large caliber machine guns turned the trees into mulch. Ordnance from the WWII era was impressive by Pegasus standards. He wondered how a bunch of punks got their hands on such advanced weaponry. By the way the vein throbbed in Sheppard's temple, the colonel was dying to know as well.
Ronon and Teyla didn't react; their training kept them in character. Dregar had a typical villain-like manic grin, savoring the moment. The rust bucket hovered over the forest reduced to paper products.
“I'll be raising the price, Malick. My previous rate is for loyal customers.” Dregar wiped the dust away from his coat. “As you can see, there's a reason why I control things on Darmous. No one can undermine me.”
“Undermine? No. But we can top you.” Sheppard grabbed his own radio. “Lorne, clean up this air pollution.”
A jumper shimmered out of nowhere and fired a well aimed drone at the ground under the clunker. The explosion took out the piece of junk. The scrap heap plummeted to the ground, the force of the impact nearly knocking everyone off their feet.
“I'm sorry. Did I forget to mention we have ships of our own? Invisible ships?” The colonel pulled Malick to his feet, a stupid grin plastered on his face. “We'll be in touch. And our price still stands.” Sheppard covered the flabbergasted group with his P-90. Teyla and Ronon backed away with their weapons trained.
“Your days here are numbered. Take your ball and go home and don't look back. You don't want to make me angry,” Sheppard warned.
“You won't like me when I'm angry,” Rodney mumbled under his breath.
Blowing up the big drug lord's ship made you a celebrity. Blowing up said hunk of flying space junk with a more impressive ship made you a deity.
Or perhaps a Jedi Master. Rodney would gladly accept the role of Yoda.
They had their own corner table in the bar with a parade of people lined up to speak to them. Nothing generated buzz like a gossip mill and it was working overtime to help establish their reputations. Sheppard was the hip new Godfather, negotiating to replace Dregar's deals with more planets than they had ever imagined.
“How many worlds has he infected with this addiction?” Sheppard whispered.
“Thirteen,” Teyla replied.
Thirteen. And who knew how many more.
“Now we have all the contacts.” Ronon smiled wolfishly.
Every deal garnered all the details needed to shut down those operations. And the best part? No one demanded proof of their supply. Not when word of mouth had distorted the facts to the point that people didn't think to ask. Rodney understood now how all those Wall Street sharks had been able to dupe so many supposedly smart people out of their fortunes.
A teenager who didn't look old enough to drink stuck to the back of the bar, eyes roaming a crowd more interested in getting to the bottom of their mugs. Teyla spotted the drifter and rose from her seat. “It is my contact from last night.”
“Him?” Rodney gawked.
The kid wandered over casually. “I have more information.”
“And we will gladly pay for it if it is as good as last time,” Teyla acknowledged.
“Are those Wraith symbols?” the boy asked, staring at the swirls and patterns of her tattoos.
“They are.”
“And you can really hear them? Can link to their minds?”
Teyla narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”
“What do they think? I mean...why do they do the things they do?”
“Because they can. The weak always fall prey to the strong. Until the day we rise up and prove them wrong.”
The kid swallowed then broadened his shoulders. “I know when Dregar is going to transport a major shipment of Wraith venom.”
“Where?” Sheppard leaned in.
The boy stood taller. “I want your jacket.”
“Sorry, it doesn't belong to you.”
“But--”
Sheppard grabbed the informant by the collar and pulled him forward until their noses almost touched. “This isn't about money or prizes. Tell us and we'll crush Dregar into the ground,” he rasped so low, his scratchy tone almost muffled it.
People bent on revenge were willing to do anything to achieve it. Sheppard didn't ask the kid for his story. Was a brother or sibling addicted to the enzyme? Were they dead? Who knew. But the teenager spilled the beans about the route of a major convoy loaded with product and he didn't ask for more money.
Sheppard had that glint in his eyes again. “Let's see how our drug lord reacts when we torch some of his supplies.”
A roadside bomb of C-4 reduced Dregar's wagons into a pile of splinters. No need to get into a shootout when you didn't have to.
“Last time I checked we were a gate team. You know. Explore and investigate. Nowhere do the words S.W.A.T or D.E.A. appear in the description.” Rodney watched their six to make sure they hadn't been followed. “You really think they're gonna know it was us?”
“I think Colonel Sheppard waved at Dregar's men afterwards,” Teyla responded.
The plan was to flush the bad guys out, to have them make mistakes under pressure. If they took out Dregar, someone else would take his place. They needed to locate the engine of his operation and destroy it.
Rodney covered a yawn. “Hey, I thought we were headed to bed? This looks like the way to the tavern.”
“I'm thirsty,” Ronon said.
Sheppard held the door open for Teyla. “And we're not splitting up.”
“Could we get it to go? There's no law that says that we can't.” There was no law enforcement, period. Grabbing a sixty ounce cup was shot down but Rodney wondered if they served food. Places like this always had good-old fashioned skewers of meat.
The bar was quiet. Only a few people glanced up from nursing their drinks. The table in the back was occupied and Ronon made a beeline for the bar. Someone else was busing the table and nodded at the Satedan. “What’ll y'all have?”
Rodney reached for his stool, debating about asking for water, not wanting to guess what color it might be. Sheppard pulled his aviators off, rubbing at his tired eyes. “Whatever is good.”
The bartender grabbed a jug from the back shelf, the flash of metal the only sign of danger when he spun around.
“Gun!” Ronon shouted, grabbing the muzzle.
Rodney shoved Sheppard to the floor when those in the booth behind them fired, bullets whizzing by where the colonel had stood. It took precious seconds for Rodney to scramble off Sheppard and by the time he did, it was too late.
All the patrons were heavily armed and they all pointed their weapons at the team. Despite knocking out the bartender Ronon held his hands up. He and Teyla were both forced to concede to the overwhelming force. Sheppard's P-90 dangled like a carrot from his vest. One of the goons ripped it from its tether and the idiot pointed the barrel stupidly at his own face.
“Did anyone ever tell you playing with toys was dangerous?”
The thug backhanded Sheppard with a meaty paw, nearly rearranging his jaw. Rodney winced and Ronon and Teyla looked ready to take on the whole room.
“That's enough.” Dregar strutted into the tavern, patting the shoulders of the dozen or so men who had posed as normal patrons. “It's amazing what a little bribery can obtain, don't you think?”
Sheppard shrugged. “It’s easier to buy people than to achieve loyalty.”
“Perhaps.” Dregar smiled, walking over. He didn't reek of enzyme; his long hair was too well groomed and his tan tunic and pants too refined.
“You don't use it, do you?” Rodney couldn't help asking.
“Of course not. Maybe on occasion, but I need my mind intact.”
“This is all about power and money?”
Dregar chuckled. “When is it not?” Even bat-shit insane Ford and his gang had had noble ambitions. Warped, but normal. The drug lord sighed, dusting his vest off. “I just had this cleaned, you know. My Genii scientist insisted that creating the venom without the Wraith was impossible so I slit his throat. It was quite messy. Suffice it to say, I'm going to need a new one.”
“What?” Rodney squeaked as two men who hadn't seen a good razor in years grabbed his arms.
Ronon started forward, the muzzle to his skull the only thing keeping him back. Teyla was furious, her eyes pools of liquid fire.
“I hope you're wrong about loyalty. I'd hate to use more unpleasant methods to persuade my newest employee to cooperate,” Dregar said ruefully.
“My chemist is not for hire,” Sheppard growled, ignoring the rifle shoved into his ribs by a nearby thug.
“But he's about to lose his employer.” Dregar turned around, pulling a silver blade from a hidden pocket. “I'm going to cut off your hands and nail them to the outside door to let people know what happens to people who steal from me.” Suddenly the Elf King appeared far more deranged, holding the blood stained weapon for all to see. “Of course, I'll have some fun first. Starting with your ears.”
“Well you know that old saying, right?” Sheppard taunted despite the threat of torture.
Dregar chuckled. “What's that?”
Sheppard squeezed the left button on his coat collar. “Don't bring a knife to a gun fight.”
Rodney plugged his ears and threw himself to the ground. The flash bangs created starbursts behind his closed eyelids and the new sonic grenades only made him want to throw up. He stayed curled in a ball while both his senses were assaulted.
It was pure chaos. Screams, gunfire, stunner blasts. Sight and sound flip-flopped causing him to rake his nails over the hardwood to gain a sense of equilibrium. Things went from a roar to a whimper, but the smell of vomit assaulted his nose.
“Oh, God, I hope I'm dead,” he panted.
Gentle hands helped him into a sitting position. “Deep breaths,” Teyla instructed.
Breathing....yes, oxygen. Rodney clutched at his middle, not trusting to keep his lunch on the inside. He opened his eyes, the lights from the torches forcing them closed. “A little warning next time,” he bitched.
“You knew Lorne was on standby,” Sheppard snapped; a fine sheen of sweat covered his face. He swallowed, spat on the floor and one of the Marines handed him a bottle of water to rinse his mouth.
The goon squad had been reduced to quivering bodies on the floor; only a few were still able to stand. The ops team wore all black body armor and face shields. There were no identification marks on their uniforms and each of them covered a bad guy with assault rifles.
Ronon retrieved his blaster and Teyla helped double check for any hidden weapons. Dregar swayed on his feet next to a foul smelling puddle. “Im-impressive...army”
Sheppard grabbed the man's tunic and yanked him to his tiptoes until they were at eye level. “You have one day to leave this planet. Or risk seeing my real temper.”
Their army threw all the trash out into the street with great enthusiasm. Lorne raised the face shield of his helmet. “You sure about letting them go?”
Sheppard found his P-90 and inspected it for damage. “Yeah. Dregar is a cockroach. We need to find his nest and burn it. The only way to do that is follow him back to his lair.”
“Has anyone thought about changing hotels?” Rodney suggested. “We were ambushed once already tonight.”
“Can't. It is the risk we'll have to take. We need people to know where we are. That's the point,” Sheppard reiterated.
Ronon searched for any activity outside the inn. “If people want us dead, hiding won't help.”
“How comforting,” Rodney sighed. “I for one can't wait to get this coat off.”
The three of them turned in unison. “What? It's not my fault the rest of you are wearing twenty pounds of clothes.”
Ronon scouted out the halls and the three of them inspected their rooms for danger. Sheppard rubbed at the bruise covering his jaw. “McKay's right. We should all hole up in the same room. We'll drag two beds into mine.”
“I never said anything about a sleepover. This is one of the rare times where we each have our own space.” But he was ignored. Rodney gazed longingly at his bed, even if the mattress was hell on his back.
“What do we have here?”
The three of them stood around Sheppard who unfolded a note that'd been shoved under his door. “Think we hit the jackpot.”
“The answer to string theory?”
“No, but it looks like we have the location of Dregar's main warehouse. We take that out and he's out of business.”
“Sounds like a setup,” Ronon grunted.
Teyla searched Sheppard's room for any more surprises and returned. “I agree. We do not know who left this.”
Rodney wandered to a window that overlooked the alley. “We know now.” He saw their informant from earlier. The kid lifted his chin in acknowledgement and walked away.
Sheppard leaned against the wall. “That settles it. We'll get some shuteye and go out at dawn.”
They waited for the Marines to get into position. Lorne's men had tracked Dregar to his lair from the jumper, confirming the authenticity of the note. The pit in Rodney's stomach grew larger by the second, and he checked his tablet PC for any signs of suspicious activity. “Dregar knows we have a small army in our back pocket.”
Sheppard put on his yellow-tinted goggles. “He sure does.”
“And we've hit him twice already,” Rodney warned, switching his glasses for the other eye gear.
“Three if you count reversing that ambush,” Sheppard needlessly reminded Rodney.
“That was sweet,” Ronon crowed.
Sheppard grinned. “Yeah, it was.”
“Will you two stop it? Drug lords have evil reputations for a reason,” Rodney snapped.
“This is what we're been waiting for.” Sheppard looked over. “To take down his whole operation. The warehouse. The lab. And lastly the big Kahuna.”
All four of them still wore their costumes. It was ridiculous; the charade was almost over. In the movies, the music would swell with techno or some awful heavy metal soundtrack, pumping the audience for the final climax.
This was it.
Sheppard tapped his radio. “Teams One and Two, converge on my mark.”
His arms trembled from adrenaline, and Rodney gripped his weapon tighter with sweat-slicked hands. One hundred yards to the front door, an explosion or two later, and Beethoven's 5th would soar and twelve Marines were going to leave nothing but dust.
Sheppard slapped him on the arm. “McKay! You're daydreaming again.”
“No, I wasn't.”
“And you were humming,” Teyla said with a smirk.
“I was?”
“Loudly,” Ronon added.
“Oh.” Rodney rolled his shoulders and loosened his neck like those heavyweight boxers. “Let's do this.”
“Just stay on your toes.” Sheppard clicked his radio. “Now!”
The entrance blew open and the shouting and weapons' fire began. They followed the first Marine squad inside the front doors while the second special ops team stormed through the back. Thick haze filtered from the smoke grenades, confusing all the dumb-witted inside. The bad guys shot badly and wildly.
The Marines were precise, their laser sights taking out Dregar's blinded men in seconds. Red bursts from Ronon's blaster added to the sci-fi special effects of the ongoing battle. Teyla and Sheppard hung back to provide clean-up, catching those trying to flee.
It was pathetic really. Pop-guns vs automatic weapons. Then Rodney's thoughts strayed to the real reason for doing this, for all those left strung out and ripped apart on many worlds. His heart slammed inside his chest and he let out a little war cry, firing at one of Dregar's minions taking aim at Teyla.
She nodded her thanks. Sheppard curled a fist in the air, keeping them in position as he analyzed all the movements. “Teams One and Two, report,” he hissed in his radio.
“The back is secured, sir,” Sergeant Giles responded.
“Still encountering resistance,” Griffin added from deeper inside the warehouse.
“Confirmed. We're on our way,” Sheppard replied, then gestured for them to follow his lead.
Rodney kept up beside him, pulled out his LSD and directed him to all the moving red little dots. Point and fire. Point and fire. And soon all the rats ran out of places to hide.
Four Marines surrounded Dregar who coughed from the smoke; the rest of his men huddled on the ground, their hands zip-tied behind their backs. The drug dealer didn't seem as ruthless surrounded by a black ops team.
“The place is secure, sir.” One of the Marines said, handing Dregar over like a Christmas present.
“Fan out and locate his supplies,” Sheppard ordered, removing his goggles.
Dregar stood defiantly. “Like I said before. Impressive army.”
“Nothing like overwhelming force to clean out the gutters,” the colonel replied.
Rodney listened to the conversation with half an ear, studying his read-outs, and started following them down a hall. Something wasn't right. There was a second level to the building; stranger yet, his LSD couldn't read anything past the outside walls. “Hey, guys.”
Ronon was there instantly, blaster pointed at the door. “What is it?”
“I don't know.”
“Don't stand in front of it,” Ronon said, pushing Rodney away.
“You found something?” Sheppard asked, pointing his P-90 at the entrance.
Why did everyone think a gun made the perfect key? Rodney adjusted his settings. “I'm not sure. There's some kind of interference, but I can tell you there's a basement.”
“Could it be his lab? There have been no reports of locating it yet,” Teyla inquired.
“Giles is babysitting our prisoners.” Sheppard tapped his radio. “Team Two, what's your status?”
“We've found the supply of enzyme. There's got to be three dozen crates or more, sir. We've started securing it.”
“Stand by. There's a sub level we're going to investigate. Keep your eye out for reinforcements.” Sheppard stared at the mysterious door. “Alright, this calls for an escort. We'll let Dregar set off any security measures.”
Ronon hauled the drug lord over and shoved him forward. “Open it.”
“With my hands tied?”
“They're not tied behind your back. Now, do it,” Sheppard ordered.
Dregar flexed his wrists. “It's just a door,” he said, twisting the knob.
Rodney held his breath, and let it out. It was indeed just a door and just a flight of stairs. But he still couldn't detect anything beyond them. Ronon kept a firm grip on the back of Dregar's neck, allowing him to lead them down the steps and into a corridor.
To another door.
Teyla and Sheppard flanked the wooden obstacle and Rodney shook his head at their silent question. There could be a three-ring circus behind it and he wouldn't know. Ronon held his weapon in one hand and pushed Dregar forward with the other.
“I'll share my connections with you. With your venom formula we could all become more powerful together. I have my supply routes. You have the muscle and that invisible ship,” Dregar tried to bargain. “There's no need to destroy my lab. In fact, you might even find some useful things inside.”
“Please, with a Genii as your head of research?” Rodney snorted.
Sheppard was getting testy. “Just open it.”
Dregar let them into a dimly lit room. Rodney could make out buzzing equipment and several work benches as they all walked inside.
The door slammed shut behind them and Rodney recognized the familiar sound of air being pressurized. Before he could shout a warning, four thousand watt spotlights flashed on, blinding them all.
Rodney shielded his eyes with his hands and the room erupted into chaos. There was weapons' fire and movement. Yelling and screaming and grunts of noise. By the time his pupils adjusted to the light, he felt the cold steel of a muzzle pressed to his forehead.
Rodney flinched then rolled his eyes. Of course. Never forget the henchmen. Troff grabbed Rodney by the shoulder and used his body as shield. “Put your weapons down or you won't have anyone to fake the venom.”
“What? You know I'm much more valuable than that,” Rodney complained while getting the layout of the room.
Three other men covered the team with their guns. Blood ran down Ronon's thigh where he'd been hit, but his blaster never wavered in his hand. Teyla and Sheppard canvassed the room for tactical advantage. Four bad guys. Four team members. Normally great odds. Except Rodney was now a hostage and he should've known the bad guys would have one final trick up their sleeves.
Dregar smiled smugly. “Just in case you think about stalling for time. This room is made of an alloy from the Genii home world. Good for jamming Ancestor tech and for sealing the poison gas that filled the rest of the warehouse. I wouldn't count on your army for a daring rescue.”
“Poison gas?” Sheppard growled, low and angry.
Rodney wasn't sure what the colonel was more outraged over. The fact they walked into this trap, or that this was almost the carbon copy ambush used on them by Ladon Radim.
“Knockout gas. The Genii are very good at producing chemical weapons,” Dregar answered.
“And underground bunkers,” Rodney groaned.
Dregar snorted then his face hardened. “Drop your weapons. It would be a shame to splatter your chemist's brains all over the floor.”
Sheppard nodded his acquiescence, his P-90 clattering to the ground. Ronon's blaster followed suit as did Teyla's weapon. One of the goons eagerly gathered them up, taking pleasure in stripping Sheppard of his personal arsenal while the other two bad guys covered the team at a safe distance.
Troff lowered his weapon and Rodney sagged in relief. It was short-lived though. Troff cut Dregar's hands free, and he rubbed at his abraded skin. “All four of you have cost me a lot of money and a great deal of trouble,” Dregar sighed, acting the part of the bored, in control evildoer.
The drug lord prattled about this and that, but Rodney's curiosity always got the best of him and he gazed at all the out-of-date consoles. This room ran on electricity, perhaps a primitive generator. The Genii home world had plumbing. Hell, they had constructed nukes, just not very good ones. It shouldn't have been a surprise that a Genii on a drug dealer's payroll wouldn't have been tinkering away on say…an old rust bucket Travelers’ ship and whatever else was needed to extract and funnel Wraith enzyme. There had to be at least one guy with an I.Q above a ten year-old's to help with an operation this size.
Dregar strolled over to a table covered with schematics, what passed for a computer in the 1950's,and a zillion other bits of tech. He rummaged through the detritus and removed a...ball point pen?
Teyla gave Ronon a worried look; his pant leg was stained red and blood spilled between the fingers he pressed against the wound. She wanted to help, but knew to keep her distance during the tense situation. She communicated silently with Sheppard, but Rodney couldn't decipher what was being said.
“You were talking about a deal earlier?” Sheppard asked hopefully. Even with the odds stacked against them, he still managed to sound cocky.
“Oh, yes, that deal. I was lying, just as you've been. I know you're all from Atlantis. My sources confirmed things today. I expect your backup will be here soon,” Dregar said, twirling the pen-thing. “I want the Wraith venom formula and I'll be on my way.”
“Um,” Rodney stuttered. He was never good at improvisation.
Dregar tapped the small silver cylinder against his cheek. “I don't have time to waste, Chemist. Give me the formula.”
“How about letting us go first.”
He knew what was coming: the veiled threat, the punch to the face to force him to comply. Dregar stood in front of Rodney. “My scientist might not have been as smart as you, but he did have his uses. This little device for instance. When inserted, it sends out a small electrical burst that will stop a person's heart for a few seconds.” Dregar stepped so close Rodney could see his madness, his glee at the prospect of torture. “Every two minutes it'll send out a stronger pulse. Every two minutes the person’s heart will stop longer and longer until it simply doesn't beat anymore.”
Rodney dried swallowed. “Yeah?” It was supposed to sound tough. Like oh yeah? But came out a squeak.
Dregar tapped the device against Rodney's chin. “I was told you were not for sale the other day. That money couldn't buy loyalty. I believe that.”
Rodney blew a sigh of relief when Dregar backed away. From the looks of things, the rest of his team released quiet ones of their own. He had little doubt that any of them would have allowed Dregar to follow up on his threat.
“So, give me the formula out of loyalty,” Dregar announced.
Before Rodney could react, the drug lord whirled around and stabbed Sheppard. The colonel grunted, the tiny cylinder a surreal thing that stuck out of his chest above his heart. There was only a little blood and hell, Sheppard had been injured far worse. But he stared down at the object in confusion, hand poised to yank out the offending thing.
“I wouldn't touch it. Pulling the device out will release a lethal toxin that'll kill you instantly.”
Dregar was blissful in full villain mode. Ronon and Teyla looked like they were about to beat the crap out of someone. Sheppard still glared in morbid fascination at the thing in his chest.
Then he gasped, grimacing in pain as his whole body coiled in on itself. “Ow.”
“In two minutes the next one will be worse,” Dregar threatened.
“I'll give you the formula, but stop this!” Rodney snarled.
“I'll deactivate the device only after I possess the formula.”
Rodney glared at the drug lord then pulled his tablet out of his backpack. “Fine, just give me...give me a minute.
“You have plenty; not sure how many your friend has,” Dregar answered.
Think, think, think. There was no formula to the artificial enzyme. But Dregar wouldn't believe him. He'd think it was a trick. Just give him what he wants, Rodney thought. Got it make it look real, any complex chemical compound would do. He could create those in his sleep-he actually did when solutions didn't come to him when he was awake.
His fingers rat-ta-tap-tapped on the keyboard, creating three-D models of what he used to cook up the placebo with Todd. Sheppard sucked in a breath behind him. The guttural noises that followed gave Rodney chest pains.
“Here.” He thrust the PC tablet into Dregar's hands. “Now deactivate it.”
“Do you honestly think I could find anyone who could read this, let alone re-create it? No, you're coming with me,” Dregar said, grabbing his bicep. He looked up at his cronies. “Keep guard. If anyone twitches, kill them.” He looked down at Sheppard who panted to catch his breath. “Except him,” he chuckled.
“Wait, where are you going?” Troff demanded.
“You fool. Our ship is still broken. I'm going to make our newest member fix it. Then we'll all load up and leave.”
“I'm not going anywhere until you help Sheppard!”
Dregar squeezed Rodney's arm harder. “Once the ship is running I'll deactivate it. You have my word.”
“McKay's not going with you,” Sheppard growled.
“Shut up! Talking here!” Rodney snapped. “It'll take ten minutes at least to get there, start up the ship, and come back. Sheppard can't survive that long!”
Dregar pulled out what appeared to be a key chain. “Get the ship started and I can do it remotely.”
The device inside Sheppard's chest was like a mini-defibrillator and the next jolt sent him to his knees. This time he dug his hand into his sternum and his face went ten shades of pale. Each mini-attack would get worse and worse and who knew the type of damage that was being done to the heart muscle.
Teyla moved next to Sheppard, holding on to his shoulder until the attack dissipated. Ronon stood over both of them, a statue of strength despite the spreading redness down his thigh. Rodney pointed a finger at the big guy. “Put a bandage on that!” He faced Sheppard. “I'll be back.”
“If anything happens to him, you're dead,” Ronon vowed.
“Time's ticking,” Dregar mocked as they headed to the door. It took a moment for the entrance to unseal and for a brief second Rodney panicked about any gas vapor. But there wasn't time for that, even if his brain started calculating the parts per million of airborne residuals that still remained. The drug lord never released his arm and it was like dragging forward a dead weight. “I thought you were in a hurry?”
They were inside the hallway headed toward the first step.
“Did you use your ship to get here?”
“What?” Rodney glanced at his watch. They were ten seconds from the next pulse.
“Your invisible ship. Is it outside?”
“Yeah, who cares?” Rodney snarled, trying to squirm out of the iron grip. That was going to leave a spectacular bruise.
They were on the fifth step. Come on!
“And you can pilot it?”
“Of course. Can we hurry up?” But Dregar's words were finally registering and he froze, turning around. “We're not going to your ship, are we?”
Dregar chuckled. “We transported it back, but it’s completely inoperable. Too bad Troff is too stupid to realize that. You and your friends ruined my whole operation. Now I'm going to start a new one.”
“What?”
“Men are expendable. You and your artificial venom are not. I can start over. Better, stronger. And with your help, even the mighty Atlantis will be unable to stop me.”
They were right outside the door to the main warehouse and Rodney felt his stomach knot. “Your remote. It doesn't work.”
“Of course not. It's a slow, painful way to die, isn't it? I once watched a rival suffer eight attacks before his heart gave out.”
Dregar didn't even have a gun on him. Like Rodney didn't chart on any kind of threat level. He wore a black leather coat, and a necklace of Wraith teeth rattled under his shirt. He might as well be in that stupid lab coat. None of that mattered, did it?
Just his resolve. And it was boiling hot.
It was a game. Peddling poison for wealth and control. Rodney felt a rare type of anger, the kind that came on suddenly and took over all rational thought.
“You're right. You don't know anything about loyalty.” Rodney stuck out his leg at the edge of the stairs and shoved Dregar with all his might.
It was all about physics; the drug lord tried to snag Rodney's vest but couldn't control his momentum. Dregar lost his footing and fell down the entire flight of metal steps, his body slamming into all of them, until his head cracked on the last one.
“Oh, God,” Rodney breathed, hands gripping the rails.
The hallway below exploded into footsteps and Teyla nearly tripped over the body. She stared dumbstruck for a second then looked up. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, I mean...I think.”
“We need you...it's John.”
“What about the bad guys?”
Teyla looked disappointed that even had to ask. “We took care of them.”
How much time had elapsed? Seconds? Minutes? Rodney was a blur of motion and Teyla raced to keep up with him. Ronon sat on the floor and held up Sheppard by the shoulders while the colonel struggled to breathe.
“Lay him flat!” Rodney shouted. He had the first aid for heart attacks memorized since it was one of his biggest fears.
Ronon eased Sheppard down and Rodney crouched on the floor, battling his rapid breathing. Calm. He had to stay calm, never mind that Sheppard was dying right in front of him. “Um...okay. Propping up his feet helps force blood to his heart,” he yammered.
Teyla folded up her jacket and used it to elevate Sheppard's legs. Then she took out another pressure bandage to start tending to Ronon's leg. Rodney stared at the silver cylinder that protruded out, the evil thing gearing up for another cycle.
Sweat plastered Sheppard's hair to his forehead and his body trembled. His lips were blue and his eyes were squeezed closed in pain.
“How many attacks have there been?”
“That was the fifth one,” Ronon grunted, looking pretty pale himself.
“I will go upstairs to see if any of our men are awake to get the jumper or I'll get some help,” Teyla informed them even though she clearly didn't want to leave.
Rodney pressed both hands to Sheppard's chest, felt it rise and fall beneath his fingers.
“Just pull it out!” Ronon growled.
“I can't! It might....”
“It's already killing him,” Ronon snarled.
Rodney was thankful for whatever restraint Ronon used to keep from doing it already. Okay. Focus. Stop the electrical pulse. He didn't have a jammer. He had nothing to overload it.
Sheppard jackknifed and he gasped for air, fingers clawing Rodney's shirtsleeves. Sheppard's eyes flew wide open, pupils large and naked and scared. Then Sheppard's hands grew lax, dropping to his sides and his rigid body went deathly still.
Ronon cursed, practically vibrated behind him.
Rodney gripped the silver device, counting the seconds when it would start Sheppard's heart back up. He ran his fingers over all sides, searching for indentions, for tiny panels. Anything and everything that would give him a clue as to how to shut it down. But it was all smooth curves with only one tiny uneven point.
Sixty long seconds ticked by and Sheppard's body shuddered and he gasped awake. His eyes were glassy and there was very little left to his voice. “I'm....kind of....sick of this,” he panted.
“Believe me, this isn't a picnic on my end!”
How would a Genii program it? Make it so a child could use it. “It couldn't be?” Rodney breathed.
“What?” Ronon demanded.
Rodney pressed a tiny button on the side and waited. Sheppard breathed nosily, his face covered with perspiration. All of them waited, Rodney glued to his watch. When the next two minute mark hit, nothing happened.
“Huh.”
Sheppard blinked up at him in a daze. “What...what did you do?”
Rodney cleared his throat. “Um. Turned it off.”
“Oh, never thought of that,” Sheppard said in honest shock, before closing his eyes in relief.
Rodney claimed the end of the sofa to hog all the fluffy pillows. He had a bowl of fresh popcorn with extra butter and a diet soda won in a game puzzle quest. Tonight was his turn to pick the movie and he looked forward to watching a remastered version of Blade Runner.
He heard Ronon clomping into the rec room before he saw him. He tossed his crutches into a corner and hobbled over, snagging one of the pillows.
“Hey! That's mine.”
“You can try to take it back,” Ronon dared, propping his legs up and claiming the rest of the couch.
“Do you mind? I don't want to smell your stinky feet.”
“Am I going to have to put both of you in the corner?” Sheppard asked, carrying a tray of sandwiches. Teyla walked behind him with a bowl of ice cream.
“Hey? Where did you get that?” Rodney rocketed to his feet, eying the dessert.
She smiled. “A woman never reveals her secrets.”
Sheppard pushed the other sofa in the room over and plopped down with a satisfied sigh. “I've been waiting all day for this. Been stuck in meetings with Woolsey for six hours.”
Rodney grimaced. “Still have to wear that heart monitor?”
“Nope, which is good. That thing was like a portable lie detector.”
“Is there something you were trying to hide?” Teyla asked as she scooped up a mound of chocolate with her spoon.
Sheppard unwrapped the plastic around his sandwich. “No, but the beeping was driving me crazy.”
“Did Lorne come back from the mission?” Ronon asked.
“Yeah. He's used the intel to track down Dregar's Wraith hunting operations on two planets. They found another beat-up old ship and took it out, but it's going to take a while to track down all the parts of his network. It was pretty widespread.” Sheppard sprawled out his lanky legs. “We derailed things for now, but it's going to take a lot of manpower to keep on it. Woolsey isn't sure how much the SGC is willing to pony up for the extra resources.”
“The war on drugs doesn't work very well on Earth and has billions of dollars,” Rodney grouched.
“Well, it is a start,” Teyla reiterated. She looked at the blank screen and back up at him. “What are we watching tonight?'
Rodney rubbed his hands together and pressed the start button on the remote. “A classic.”
When a familiar voiceover didn't start and Harrison Ford's name was replace by George Clooney's, he glared at Sheppard. “What the hell is this?”
“Ocean's 13. Better than 12. Tried to find The Sting, but it wasn't in the library.”
“We just survived a big con game. I don't want to watch a movie about it!”
“I don't know. I think it's a good representation. Maybe you could take notes for next time.” Sheppard grinned.
“Notes?”
“I could get Tombstone,” Ronon offered, beginning to stand.
“No!” Rodney huffed, crossing his arms.
But he rubbed the side of his chin, thinking about a certain piano tune, only to have the theme to Miami Vice start up again. He slumped down defeated in his seat, wondering why he punished himself this way.
Illustration by astridv
