Flossy's Corner of Insanity
Chapter 9: The Scientist and the Psychopath
Ow…
Rodney’s eyes fluttered open and he let out a low moan as the pain flooded his body. Deciding to focus on his situation rather than the few parts of him that didn’t hurt, he let his vision adjust. He was in a cave, strung up like a slab of meat, but thankfully alone.
Oh, that’s a really bad analogy, McKay, he thought to himself, trying to banish images from the horror movies he’d seen on team-nights.
He tried to think back to what had happened. As soon as they’d arrived on P3X-433, his other self had shifted back into phase and dialled out to another location. And then they went to a whole host of others before they’d finally ended up here.
Wherever the hell ‘here’ was.
The Canadian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that their doubles had made it virtually impossible for John and the others to track them. Even if they managed to somehow narrow down the hundreds of possible locations, it would take months if not years for them to find him. And something told the physicist that he wasn’t going to be around for that long…
He felt a jolt of worry at the thought of the wild haired pilot – the other Sheppard had hit him hard, but Rodney was convinced that he’d seen the soldier run into the Gate room just before the monster wearing his friend’s face had pulled him into the rippling blue puddle.
His shoulders were burning from the unnatural position they’d been forced into and Rodney was certain that they were on the verge of popping from their sockets. He tried to balance himself better, almost screaming at the jolt of pain that burnt its way through his left arm. Sheppard’s double had smashed the cast that had been protecting his shattered bones, claiming that Rodney could slip out of his bindings. That had hurt more than he thought possible but he’d grit his teeth, determined not to cry out. Unfortunately, his stoic attitude had simply egged the other John on, leading to a beating.
Now, though, the appendage was beginning to go numb, and Rodney was worried. That can’t be good. If only he could stand more upright…
Before he could dwell on how screwed he really was, his captors came back. He noted the camera and laptop tucked under his alternate self’s arm and fought down the panic.
“Oh look,” the other John drawled, “he’s awake again.”
“Sheppard, enough,” McKay’s twin snapped. “You know damn well he’s no good to us dead.”
Rodney really didn’t like the sound of that.
“Spoil sport,” the alternate Sheppard griped.
“You know,” Rodney croaked, “you could… be a little more… hospitable.”
“You’re right,” his double agreed with a sick smile. “I suppose it’s only polite to explain the situation to you.” He placed the items on the floor and walked over to the scientist, lifting Rodney’s head gently before frowning at the bruises and split lip. “John really made a mess of you, didn’t he? Naughty Colonel.” Behind him, his team-mate chuckled. “On the bright side, it’ll help convince your friends how serious our intentions are.”
“Leave them out… of this…”
“Now where would the fun be in that?” his copy asked. “You see, originally we were simply going to push you and your Sheppard through the mirror and take your places. No one would have been any the wiser and I could have arranged for a little ‘accident’ with the device to prevent the two of you from reappearing.”
“But your John was quick to rumble us,” the alternate Sheppard continued. “You really should have a talk with him about that paranoia. It wasn’t very nice of him to sic his long haired guard dog on me.”
“Why… did you want… to do that?” Rodney asked, trying to keep them talking. His vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, making him feel nauseous, so he opted to shut his eyes.
“You mean other than the fact that we were going to be sent to prison for the rest of our lives?” John’s copy replied. “We’re wanted men, doc.”
“Poor thing,” the other Rodney crooned, stroking his counterpart’s face. “I think we’ve confused him.”
“We’ll have to explain it better then,” his team-mate said. “Simply put, we were hired by the Trust to steal Ancient technology.” He smiled wolfishly. “But things got a little… out of hand.”
“You… you lied to… Elizabeth…” Rodney whispered, trying desperately to cling onto the fragile grip he had on consciousness.
“No, that was all true,” his twin stated. “Up until the Prometheus, anyway. That was my doing actually, causing an overload in the hyperdrive system. They never even knew what hit them.”
“One of your better explosions,” Other-John said, giving his friend a proud look.
“Thank you,” Other-Rodney replied with a malevolent grin.
“But… I don’t understand,” Rodney muttered. “Why would… you do that? How…?” He trailed off, feeling sickened. The man in front of him was meant to be him, effectively. How could he be so cold about causing the deaths of hundreds of innocent people?
“Because it felt good.”
Rodney felt like he was trapped in an unending nightmare. “Bastard,” he growled, wrenching his head out of his double’s grasp. “You’re sick…”
“Maybe, but I really don’t care any more. Losing Carson and Elizabeth was… well, it was too much to take,” the alternate McKay replied after a moment. “For a while, I didn’t know what to do with myself, but then I found out that Sheppard was considering the offer from the Trust,” he grinned and continued, “so I figured I’d join him.”
The grin fell and his face hardened. “After all, I don’t have anything else left to lose.”
“Neither of us does,” John’s double added.
“What… are you going to… do with me?” Rodney asked, terrified by what he might hear. The men in front of him were psychopaths, no question about it.
“Since your Colonel Sheppard threw a spanner in the works, so to speak, we’re going to have to do things the old fashioned way,” the alternate McKay said. “We want sanctuary in this dimension, and you’re going to help us get it.”
Rodney’s heart thumped loudly in his chest as he realised what his counterpart meant – they were going to use him as leverage, a bargaining chip. Over my dead body…
“It’ll never work,” he said defiantly, receiving a whoop from his inner Sheppard.
“And why would that be, Rodney?” Other-John asked.
“Because… Elizabeth won’t negotiate… with terrorists,” Rodney replied, panting from pain and fear. “And Sheppard… would kill you… rather than… let you stay.”
“Oh, believe me, doc, by the time I’m through with you, they’ll do whatever we want.”
“I should listen to him if I were you,” Other-McKay said. “John’s an expert when it comes to torture, really has a knack for prolonging the agony.” He moved back and retrieved the equipment he’d placed on the ground. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?” he asked, looking at his team-mate as he set the camera up and pressed the record button.
John’s twin grinned and took off his jacket. “Thought you’d never ask, buddy,” he replied before advancing on Rodney.
John woke up slowly, his head throbbing. Blinking to clear his blurred vision, he realised that he was in the infirmary. What the hell…? Looking around, the pilot noted that none of his team-mates were there. That was strange – they usually had to be pried away with a crowbar if he was a resident, especially a certain scientist…
Then a memory surfaced that had him scrambling about in his bed, trying to untangle his body from all the wires surrounding him.
“McKay!” he yelled hoarsely, panic and fear taking control and lending him a frightening strength.
Within seconds, Carson was by his side having heard the commotion from his office. “Colonel, calm down! You’ll do yourself a mischief!”
“No, no, no, gotta get out of here, gotta get Rodney,” Sheppard babbled frantically, not registering Beckett’s words. “Bastards took him…” He lashed out blindly, trying to free himself from the physician’s grip. “Let go of me, doc! I’ve got to go! I have to find him!” He groaned as the room span wildly.
“John Sheppard, you listen to me!” Carson growled in an authoritarian voice. “You’ve a whopping great concussion! I need you to calm down and stop fighting me.” He held onto the Air Force Man with all his might as he repeated himself in an attempt to calm the agitated man.
Finally, the Scotsman’s words began to sink in and John ceased his struggles. “Carson?” he asked in a tiny voice, as if he was only just beginning to properly register where he was.
“Aye, lad?”
The soldier turned an alarming shade of green. “Think I’m gonna be sick…”
Beckett sighed. “I’m not surprised, what with the way you were thrashing about.” As he spoke, he grabbed a bed pan and gently rolled his friend onto his side, rubbing comforting circles on John’s back as he emptied the contents of his stomach.
John let out a shaky breath once he had finished, gladly accepting the glass of water offered. Relieved when it didn’t make an immediate reappearance, he closed his eyes. Carson took advantage of the moment to administer an injection.
“What was tha’ for?” Sheppard asked suspiciously, knowing that he must have been in a bad way not to notice the needle.
“To help with the nausea, son, and the headache from hell that I’m certain you have.”
“How… how’s Radek?”
Beckett smiled at Sheppard’s selfless question. “The boy’ll be fine,” he replied. “He’s got a mighty fine headache and a couple of nasty bruises on his neck, but nothing that can’t be fixed. Now you, on the other hand…”
John gave him a wobbly version of his usual cheeky grin. “Hard headed, doc, you know me. Any word from Lorne yet?”
“Oh, so you remember that part then?” The teasing grin fell as Carson shook his head. “The Major got back about half an hour ago. His team scoured the planet from top to bottom with the help of our friends, the Damarians, but there was neither hide nor hair of them.”
The pilot’s face remained impassive, but the Scotsman could see the worry flicker in his eyes. “Must’ve gated somewhere else,” he stated eventually. “Maybe to dozens of other planets.”
“Radek’s working on it, but I fear you’re right, son,” Beckett replied.
John gave a weak shrug. “It’s what I’d do.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
“And speaking of ‘doing’, what on Earth are you up to?” the doctor demanded as he watched the Colonel pull out the IV line in his hand.
“I can’t stay here, Carson,” Sheppard explained. “Not while Rodney’s in trouble.”
Beckett was about to argue, but then remembered the conversation he’d had with McKay earlier that morning and shut his mouth.
John saw the look that crossed his friend’s face and stopped changing out of his scrub top to place a hand on Carson’s shoulder. “Don’t go there, doc,” he said firmly. “None of this was your fault.”
“I wish I could believe that, John,” Beckett replied sadly, “but I can’t help but think that if only I hadn’t been so heavy-handed, we would nae be in this situation. After what I said to Rodney…” He shook his head. “Honestly, Colonel, I wish I’d never banned him from his lab. I could’ve prevented this.”
Sheppard shook his head. “No, we’d be in even more trouble. Look, McKay’s a law unto himself at the best of times. Every now and then, we’ve gotta be firm with him.” He smiled gently. “And before you start beating yourself up about over-stepping your boundaries as a doctor, remind yourself that you were doing it as a friend. Rodney knew… knows… that.” He grimaced at the slip, telling himself firmly not to go down that road.
He was going to find his errant geek and then he was going to knock seven shades of shit out of his double. If they’ve so much as split a hair on McKay’s head…
“Since when did you get so wise?” Carson asked, pulling him away from his vengeful thoughts.
John chuckled. “Let’s just say that I had a good teacher.” He squeezed the Scot’s shoulder affectionately before letting his arm drop.
“So what’s the plan then?” Carson asked once Sheppard resumed getting dressed.
The Air Force man scowled. “As much as I hate to say it, the next move is theirs.”
“We wait?”
“Yeah, doc, we wait.” And pray, John added silently, feeling sick to his stomach.
We pray…
Chapter 10: Video Nasty
The fist struck him so hard that Rodney was certain that he would end up a brain damaged vegetable. As his double fiddled with the camera and its tripod, the other John had decided to make a start with his side of things.
“Just a little warm-up, doc,” he had said conversationally, before proceeding to beat the scientist to within an inch of his life.
It had gotten to the point where Rodney couldn’t even feel the individual blows anymore. His entire body throbbed so much that there wasn’t a single place that wasn’t hurting. Throughout the ordeal, he had tried to concentrate on what his twin was doing, but it had proved to be easier said than done. He couldn’t see anything out of his left eye and what little vision he had in the right was blurred around the edges.
From what he could gather, the alternate McKay had connected a device to his laptop; it appeared to be Goa’uld in design but without seeing it up close, Rodney couldn’t tell for sure. All he did know was that his copy had been working on a macro for the last forty minutes, presumably to connect the device to the Gate.
The other McKay finished typing and looked up, giving a loud wolf whistle.
Other-Sheppard’s head spun round mid punch. “What?” he barked, angry at having been disturbed.
Unlike two days ago, McKay’s copy didn’t appear cowed by his team-mate’s aggression. “Show time, John,” he replied. “Remember what we agreed? Rodney has to be breathing when we broadcast.” He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Rodney’s spine. “Of course, afterwards is a whole ‘nother matter.”
The alternate John laughed. “Are you ready to dial?”
Rodney frowned, wondering if he’d heard that right. The Gate wasn’t in the cave: it was well over a mile away…
Then it struck him. They were going to remote dial.
“Ready when you are, Sheppard.” Seeing a nod from his team-mate, the other McKay typed in a command on the laptop before walking over to Rodney. He stuck a hand in one of the Canadian’s pockets, grinning as he retrieved his prize – Rodney’s GDO. “We’re broadcasting live,” he whispered, “and this way, we’ll be sure to get an audience.”
“Incoming wormhole!”
At Chuck’s shout, John and Elizabeth ran from her office, coming to an abrupt halt right behind the Canadian technician’s chair. He flinched as the Air Force man gripped the back of his seat.
“What’s the address?” John asked, leaning so far over Chuck’s shoulder that he was practically perched on the man’s lap.
“I, uh, I don’t know, sir,” the technician replied. “There’s something blocking the signal. It’s like whoever’s dialling is… cloaking their location somehow.” He looked up, bewildered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“IDC?” Elizabeth asked. It had been almost four hours since Rodney had been taken and the level of worry for her Chief Scientist was verging on hysterical. The knowledge that she had allowed John’s double to waltz off through the Gate did nothing to ease the snakes that had taken up residence in her gut, despite everyone’s insistence that she had no way of knowing.
I should have done, she thought grimly. I should have realised…
“Nothing yet… Oh no, wait!” Chuck corrected himself, tapping on the computer screen in front of him. “It’s Dr McKay’s code.”
“Lower the shield!” Sheppard barked, already halfway down the stairs. Although he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that Rodney had been released, he couldn’t contain the tiny flicker of hope that ignited at the back of his mind. McKay was a genius after all, and it was entirely possible that he had either convinced their doppelgangers to free him or somehow escaped…
But as soon as he heard the voice that emanated from the radio channel, his heart sank.
“Afternoon, Atlantis,” Sheppard’s double greeted casually. “Hope you’re all behaving yourselves.”
John trotted back up the steps to the control room, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists.
“Colonel Sheppard,” Elizabeth greeted coolly.
“Dr Weir,” came the reply. “We think we have something of yours. Are you missing a stray, perhaps? Brown hair, blue eyes, terrible ego problems, answers to the name ‘Rodney’?”
“Quit the mind games,” John snapped, his temper and frustration finally erupting. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but it ends right now. D’you hear me?”
“Always so headstrong. Must be an inter-dimensional flaw in you Sheppards.” That was the other McKay. “And really, Colonel, that’s awful language to be using on a public radio frequency. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”
“Come and say that to my face, you piece of…”
“Enough!” Weir snapped. “John, I know you’re angry, but this isn’t helping,” she hissed at her Commanding Military Officer.
“You should listen to the pretty lady, buddy,” John’s copy drawled lazily.
“Where is our Dr McKay?” Elizabeth asked, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.
“Oh, he’s… hanging in there.” There was a thump, followed by a muted groan.
“What do you want?”
“We have a proposition for you,” McKay’s twin replied. “But these things are so impersonal over the radio, don’t you think?”
“Alright then,” John answered. “What are you suggesting?”
“Get Zelenka to stream the following link to the conference room and you’ll see,” the other McKay said. “We’ll give you ten minutes to set everything up before we call you back.”
“Wait!” Elizabeth called. “We want to talk to Rodney.”
“In ten minutes.” There was a brief pause. “Oh, and if you’re not ready by then, things will get very messy.”
With a whoosh the Gate shut down, leaving a group of speechless, shell-shocked people wondering what the hell had just hit them.
Elizabeth was the first to snap out of her reverie. “Get Radek up here now,” she said to Chuck, who nodded and tapped his earpiece. As he spoke to the Czech, she turned to John. “Tell Teyla, Ronon and Carson to meet us in the conference room,” she told him. “And let them know that it might not be pleasant.”
The group that gathered in the conference room was a sombre one. No one knew what to expect, other than the fact that Elizabeth’s warning would doubtless be proved correct.
Zelenka had managed to transfer the video feed to the display screen in a matter of seconds, and was trying to hack the ‘cloak’ blocking the Gate address from their systems. Judging from the frustrated grunts and curses in Czech, the engineer was having no luck.
“Leave it for now, Z,” John said, shutting the lid of the keyboard when it looked as though Radek was two seconds away from taking an axe to the machine. “Let’s just see what they want then worry about the details later, okay?”
“My apologies, Colonel,” Zelenka replied, fidgeting nervously. He shifted about in his chair restlessly, unable to settle and wondering how the others managed to remain so calm. “I am… how would you say… distracted. I cannot concentrate.” His voice dropped down to a hoarse whisper as his fingers drummed out a nervous, uneven rhythm on the table. “And I am worried for Rodney. The others are… I do not wish to alarm anyone, but… They are not sane.”
John nodded sympathetically, trying to push aside his own fears. The group needed him to be Lt Col John Sheppard, Military Commander of Atlantis. Rodney would need him to be focused and calm, not on the brink of going apoplectic with the rage slowly building up inside of him. So he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear his mind as he set his jaw. There would be time to go into meltdown later, when his geek was safely back in the city. “Yeah, doc,” he said, “I know.”
“We are all concerned for Dr McKay,” Teyla added, resting a hand over Radek’s to stop the fretful movements. “But we will do everything in our power to find him and bring him home.” Next to her, Ronon nodded in agreement.
“What about your doubles?” the Czech asked in a small voice.
“I think that you’ll have to wait your turn, lad,” Carson replied. “I’ve a feeling that there’s a long line of people who want to have a wee talk with them first.”
“Play nice, doc,” Ronon said, trying to hide a smirk.
“Carson!” Elizabeth admonished. “You took an oath!”
Beckett just smiled serenely, making everyone else shudder.
Before anyone could say any more, the Gate alarm sounded and seconds later, the screen in the conference room fizzled into life. The picture was grainy, but Zelenka typed in a few commands to enhance the resolution and they were rewarded when the alternate McKay’s face slowly faded into view.
“Dr McKay,” Elizabeth said, straightening in her seat.
“Ah, you managed it then?” he asked, grinning slightly. “This is a much more civilised way to communicate, don’t you think? Tell Zelenka it’s a job well done.” He paused for a moment, his face contorting into a twisted parody of concern. And how is dear Radek? Not feeling too rough around the edges, I hope?”
The engineer trembled in his chair.
“Leave him alone,” John growled.
“Ah, Colonel, still in that dreadful mood of yours, I see.”
“Bite me.”
“We want to see Rodney,” Elizabeth cut in quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. “It’s been ten minutes.”
“So it has,” McKay’s double agreed amicably. “I don’t see the harm.” He stepped away from the camera, allowing it to zoom in on the far wall.
The group gave an audible gasp when they saw their missing scientist.
Rodney was a mess. He’d already been beaten so badly that the left side of his face was black, blue and every other shade in between, and his eye was swollen shut. The other had a worryingly glassy look about it, the pupil so dilated that only a tiny sliver of his normally blue iris was visible. He hung limply from his bonds, his left wrist distended and at an unnatural angle.
“Rodney,” Elizabeth breathed, unable to hide the quiver in her voice.
As if he heard her, Rodney managed to lift his head in the direction of the camera and gave them a brave but pained smile. “’Liz’beth?” he croaked. “That… you?”
“Yeah, buddy, we’re all here,” John said in an unusually calm and controlled voice.
“John…” Rodney whispered, trying to push himself more upright. “You… okay?”
“I’m fine, Answer Man,” the Air Force man replied, shaking his head. All the pain that the Canadian must have been in and McKay was worried about him?
I am going to kill them. There won’t even be enough left to send back through that damn mirror by the time I’m finished with them…
“As touching as this little reunion is, I think we should get down to business,” the other Sheppard said.
“Don’t… give them anything,” Rodney cut in. “No matter what… they do… don’t…” He broke off with a cry of pain as John’s double hit him hard in the stomach.
“Stop!” Weir yelled.
The alternate John held his hands up with an innocent look.
“What do you want?” Teyla asked, motioning for Ronon to sit down; he’d leapt to his feet at Rodney’s cry.
“Sanctuary and immunity in this dimension,” McKay’s double replied. “Otherwise Rodney is officially dead.”
“You know we can’t do that,” Elizabeth said sadly.
In the cave, the bys’ twins stared at one another. “You can,” the other Sheppard insisted. “If you really want to.”
“Maybe they just need an incentive,” his team-mate said, tilting is head to the side as he looked at their hostage. “Why don’t you give them a taste of your talents, John? Just to prove that we aren’t screwing around?”
“With pleasure.” Sheppard’s copy moved across to the far side of the cave, returning with a long, slender pouch. He unrolled it carefully, taking out a thin bladed knife. “Do you like them, doc?” he asked, tilting it this way and that so the blade glinted ominously in the light. “I had them made especially for me. They’re as smooth as a hot knife through butter going in, but the fun really starts when I pull ‘em back out.” He leaned in close to whisper in Rodney’s ear, “And feel free to scream all you want, buddy. Let your friends know how much it hurts.”
The Atlanteans watched in horror as John’s double plunged the knife deep into Rodney’s hip, just above the bone. Remarkably, the only sound from the scientists was a quiet whimper, but John could see his friend shaking and knew how much the effort of keeping quiet was costing him. They continued to watch as the man then began to slowly rotate the weapon, wincing at the wet coughs it produced from McKay. The alternate Sheppard then pulled the knife out.
This time, Rodney did scream. As his torturer held the weapon up close to the camera, the gang saw why; as the knife had been rotated, it had spat out tiny barbs which had pulled out chunks of flesh along the way.
“You fucking bastards!” the Colonel shouted, thumping the table.
Unfortunately for Rodney, John’s outburst only served to egg his twin on. With a chuckle, he moved back to his victim and repeated the entire process on the physicist’s thigh.
“You really do have a filthy mouth,” McKay’s copy said as Rodney’s cries died away. “I’m surprised no one’s cut out your tongue yet.”
Unable to watch any more, the girls looked away.
“Please stop this,” Carson pleaded, wondering how much more pain his friend could stand.
“Once you agree to our terms,” the alternate McKay said. “You can put an end to this right now if you want.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “We do not negotiate with terrorists.”
“Funny, that was what he said,” the other John replied as he replaced the now blood soaked blade back into his pouch. He pulled out another device, keeping it close to his body and Rodney finally broke.
“Please, p-please… d-don’t do this,” he begged, trembling.
“Sorry, doc,” John’s copy said in a tone that suggested he was anything but apologetic, “but your friends won’t co-operate.”
“Rodney?” Sheppard said, alarmed at his friend’s reaction. “What is it? What’s he got?”
“Oh my God,” Carson breathed.
“Doc?” asked Ronon.
“Carson, what is it?” asked Elizabeth. “What’s he holding?”
Rodney was shaking violently, trying to pull away from the ropes holding him in place as the alternate John advanced on him. The man moved behind the Canadian and thrust the stick into the small of his back.
In the conference room, the team paled as they saw the orange light emanating from Rodney’s eyes and mouth, flinching at the scream of agony.
“What is that?” Teyla asked.
“A Goa’uld pain stick,” Beckett replied, his face pale.
“Enough!” Weir cried, unable to see her friend suffer.
“Do you agree to our terms?” McKay’s double asked.
She shook her head mutely.
Sheppard’s double struck Rodney with the pain stick twice more before the scientist went limp. “You’ll find us at the following address,” he said, holding up a piece of paper. “Colonel Sheppard is to come alone and unarmed in a supply-loaded jumper. If you try and sneak anyone else through with you, or smuggle any kind of weaponry on board, we’ll kill your friend.”
“You’ve got one hour,” McKay’s copy said as the feed shut down.
“What do we do?” asked Ronon, breaking the shocked silence. “If we don’t give ‘em what they want, the little man’s dead.”
“And he’s just as dead once they’ve got the supplies they need,” John shot back.
“Well, what do you suggest?” asked Elizabeth. “We don’t have much time.”
“We need to be creative,” Carson said.
“What d’you mean, doc?”
“We must think like Rodney,” Zelenka replied, catching onto Beckett’s idea. “We must be cunning, no?”
For the first time that afternoon, John smiled. “What did you have in mind, Z?”
Chapter 11: Subtle Deception
The atmosphere in the Jumper Bay was unmistakably tense as the last of the checks were carried out. The maintenance crews shared worried looks and exchanged whispered conversations between themselves, casting furtive glances towards the sole occupant of Jumper One. Although none of them dared to say it out loud, the one thought on everyone’s minds was that John Sheppard seemed scared.
As he sat in the cockpit of the small ship, the Air Force man tried to ignore what was going on around him and focus on the plan. The last thing he wanted was to prove the crews correct.
He was scared.
At first, he’d put it down to the usual pre-mission jitters, but as he’d watched the supplies being loaded and gone over the final details of Zelenka’s scheme, the unease had morphed into full blown terror. The soldier in him was demanding that he suck it up and use his fear, that he should turn it into something he could exploit to gain an advantage. The rest of him, however, wanted to run away from the whole thing and not emerge until the dust had settled. Trying to still his trembling hands and calm his frantic heartbeat, he realised the reason behind his sudden apprehension: Rodney’s life now rested solely on his actions.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been in this kind of situation – hell, there had been at least a dozen or so occasions when he’d had to pull off a crazy stunt or two to rescue his team-mates – but the stakes were impossibly high. If he screwed this up…
“Colonel Sheppard, are you set?”
The voice that came over the Jumper’s radio made John jump. Letting out the breath he’d subconsciously been holding, he cleared his throat. “I’m ready when you are, control,” he replied. Years of experience helped him to hide the nervousness. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“John…”
The pilot sighed inwardly as he heard Elizabeth. What he was about to attempt was dicey to say the least, and the expedition leader’s shaking tone wasn’t helping. “Elizabeth,” he replied as patiently as he could, hoping that she’d hurry up before he lost his nerve.
“Just… be safe, alright?” she pleaded. “And bring him home.”
John gave a cocky smile that he didn’t feel – even though he knew no one could see it. “You bet,” he said, powering up the ship with a thought.
Seconds later, the Jumper descended into the control room and hovered in front of the Gate. Sheppard dialled the address given by his double then activated the concealed tracking device that Radek had fitted underneath the right drive pod.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” the Colonel said before his ship disappeared into the wormhole.
One hour earlier…
… “What do we do?” asked Ronon, breaking the shocked silence. “If we don’t give ‘em what they want, the little man’s dead.”
“And he’s just as dead once they’ve got the supplies they need,” John shot back.
“Well, what do you suggest?” asked Elizabeth. “We don’t have much time.”
“We need to be creative,” Carson said.
“What d’you mean, doc?”
“We must think like Rodney,” Zelenka replied, catching onto Beckett’s idea. “We must be cunning, no?”
For the first time that afternoon, John smiled. “What did you have in mind, Z?”
The Czech gave them a wily grin. “They have used stolen technology to execute their plan. What I suggest is that we do the same.”
“But we do not have any stolen equipment,” Teyla said, looking offended and confused in equal measure. “And we are not thieves.”
“We don’t have to be, lass,” Carson cut in. “All the lad means is that we’ve got to play them at their own game.”
The group listened as Radek outlined his idea: he and his engineering team had been working on a tracking device that could be attached to the Jumpers. What he proposed was to fit said gizmo to the ship, then have John pilot it to the meeting point. That way, the soldier would appear to be alone while the Atlanteans could keep tabs on him. “It is still in early stages, but should work well enough for our needs,” the engineer said.
“But why bother?” asked Ronon. “Why don’t we just follow in a cloaked Jumper?”
“For a start, the Gate address my copy gave us isn’t gonna be the correct location,” John said. “More than likely, it’ll be to stop us finding them. It’s what I’d do,” he added when the Satedan gave him an incredulous look.
“And there’s every chance that they’ll be able to monitor what comes through the Gate,” Elizabeth added. “This is another version of McKay we’re talking about after all.”
“That settles it then,” Sheppard said. “How soon can you have your doohickey fitted, doc?”
Zelenka frowned as he thought. “Will take maybe forty minutes,” he replied hesitantly. “Is easy to install but configuring readings will be hard part.”
“Well, we’d better get started then…”
“Wait a second,” Carson cut in. “This seems bloody risky to me. I know I’m just a medical doctor and not an engineer, but how do you know they won’t be able to detect the tracker?”
“Dr Beckett is correct,” Teyla said. “This plan is dangerous. How do you know it will be successful?”
“There is risk,” Radek agreed, “but if we place tracker under drive pod, the jumper’s energy signature should mask reading from our little toy.”
“And besides, we all know that Rodney would be the first person to pull this kind of crazy stunt if it was any of us in his position,” John added. “Are we all agreed?”
He and Radek were out of the door before anyone could argue.
“I don’t like it,” Ronon said once the doors had shut again. “Don’t know why, but it feels like a setup to me.”
“Agreed,” Weir said. “Go and find Major Lorne and Lieutenant Edison. Have them put their strike teams on standby.”
As the last two members of SGA-1 filed out, Elizabeth turned to Beckett. “How long has Rodney got?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t want to bring it up in front of John and the others but… I need to know.” She shuddered as the images of her friend being tortured replayed in her mind.
The Scotsman shook his head sadly. “From what I could see, the lad’s lost a fair bit of blood and has a very nasty head injury. Depending on the degree of neural trauma…”
“Best guess, Carson,” the dark-haired woman pushed.
“At the most, we’re looking at four hours. He does nae look it, but Rodney’s a scrappy bugger. If anyone was going to beat the odds, it’d be him.”
“And worst case?”
“Worst case… Two hours maybe less.” He let out a shaky sigh. “Whatever John and Radek have planned, we’d better pray that it works.”
The present…
…John shook his head as he tried to push the memories aside. He had been waiting next to the Gate on M7S-804 for five minutes, with nothing else to do but replay everything. The longer he waited, the tenser he got – so much so that he was beginning to wonder whether this really was such a good idea after all.
Maybe I should’ve tackled the bastard when I had the chance.
Not having his flak jacket or sidearm was starting to get to him. Although he’d been trained to make weapons out of anything close by and excelled at hand to hand combat, John felt naked without his 9 mil strapped to his leg. He wasn’t completely unarmed – one of Ronon’s smaller daggers was hidden in the back of his boot. And just in case they found that one, the buckle of his belt also had a blade hidden in it. That had been a birthday present from Rodney, mainly because the physicist had gotten fed up with Sheppard moaning about how many knives Ronon had.
The one thing that was bothering him more than anything was why their twins had sabotaged the mirror. Maybe it was an insurance policy of some kind; thinking about it, the Air Force man decided that it made sense. That way, if the team didn’t deliver there would be no way to send them back.
And I’ve got the feeling that they don’t want to go back…
A burst of static brought him back the present and he saw that the Gate had been activated. “That you, you sickos?” he snarled, trying to cover the fact that he’d been caught off-guard.
“Nice of you to join us Colonel,” McKay’s double greeted. “I trust you’ve come alone and unarmed as requested?”
“Believe it or not, I’m a man of my word, which is more than I can say about the two of you,” he replied. “Now how about we quit fooling around? I’ve got your Jumper.”
“You’ll receive an address in about thirty seconds. Dial it and fire a drone when you get to the other side. We’ll radio again once we see your signal.” There was a pause before McKay’s alternate spoke again, “And just a little reminder, John – if you try and trick us, or we detect anyone else, dear Rodney will find out the hard way that my Sheppard has an itchy trigger finger.”
The Gate shut down, but not before the HUD of Jumper One flickered into life. Recognising the symbols flashing across the screen, John dialled the address, hoping that he wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake.
Chapter 12: Here Comes the Cavalry…
In the half hour before John gated to M7S-804…
Rodney was somewhere in a dark void, blissfully unaware of the pain that flooded his body. He felt like he was floating, and while it was disconcerting, he preferred it to the agony he had endured a short while ago. Unfortunately, his respite was soon snatched away as something cold and wet was tipped over his head.
Coughing and spluttering, he reluctantly forced his good eye to open and groaned softly as he realised that he hadn’t been rescued.
Yet, his internal Sheppard reminded him sharply. You haven’t been rescued yet. You know I’m coming to get you. Just hold on a little longer…
“Hi there, Sleepy Head,” the other John greeted with a quiet chuckle as he tossed the water bucket to the side. Rodney couldn’t help flinching as the sound of it hitting the stone floor reverberated in his pounding head. “You don’t want to miss the good bit, do you?” John’s copy asked, as he moved away to allow his team-mate to take a look.
Rodney couldn’t stop shivering. Whether it was from shock or the blood loss was open for debate, but neither of those options were particularly helpful. Come on, buddy, stay focused. Don’t think about that; just concentrate on the little things.
That’s easy for you to say! Rodney grumbled back. You’re not the one hanging in a pool of your own blood! And you don’t have holes in places where there shouldn’t be any!
“Oh, John,” his double scolded. “Did you really have to make such a mess? Blood’s a bitch to get out of stone.” He gave the Canadian an almost apologetic look. “We really ought to try and stop the bleeding. After all, it’ll be no fun if you’re dead when the good Colonel gets here.”
“I’ve got just the thing,” Sheppard’s twin said, rooting around in his backpack.
“Won’t… come,” Rodney managed to grit out, sweat beading on his forehead at the effort. “Not… worth… risk…”
“You underestimate the power of friendship,” his copy replied. “He’ll be here.”
The alternate John stood up, pulling a bottle out of his bag with a flourish. Rodney eyed it apprehensively; it contained a clear liquid, which he hoped to God he wouldn’t have to drink. “This’ll soon have you up and about again.”
“Wha…?”
“Hold him.”
The other McKay moved behind Rodney, wrapping his hands around the scientist’s waist as his team-mate advanced. “Got this a couple of years ago,” John’s copy explained. “Its original purpose was to clean the drive pods of the Jumpers, but I prefer it for this.” He opened the cap and allowed a few drops to trickle down onto Rodney’s thigh injury.
At first, the warmth produced by the sweet smelling liquid was a pleasant relief to the cold eating away at McKay, but within seconds he was in agony. The pain was excruciating, almost as if he was being burnt by acid. He refused to utter a sound though, not wanting to give either of them the satisfaction.
Other-John repeated the process on Rodney’s hip.
He wasn’t going to scream.
The burning sensation spread down both legs, making him feel as though he’d been set on fire.
He wasn’t going to scream…
“The Ancients called it ‘Fire of Heaven’,” the other Rodney crooned in his ear. “A pretty accurate description, really. Now be a good little physicist and tell Uncle John how much it hurts.” He moved his hand and dug his fingers into the wound above Rodney’s hip.
An unwilling howl burst from McKay’s chest, echoing around the cavern as he writhed. Laughter chased it as the two men stepped away from their victim.
“Impressive,” the alternate Rodney complimented as McKay’s cries dwindled to pained whimpers.
“Why, thank you, doc,” John’s copy replied, grinning with dark pride.
An alarm sounded from the laptop, prompting both men to move further away from Rodney.
“That him?”
Other-McKay nodded. “Right on time.” He tapped in a couple of commands to activate the Gate before tapping his radio three times.
“That you, you sickos?” John snarled.
“Nice of you to join us Colonel,” McKay’s double greeted. “I trust you’ve come alone and unarmed as requested?”
“Believe it or not, I’m a man of my word, which is more than I can say about the two of you,” came the reply. “Now how about we quit fooling around? I’ve got your Jumper.”
“You’ll receive an address in about thirty seconds. Dial it and fire a drone when you get to the other side. We’ll radio again once we see your signal.” McKay’s alternate paused to trigger the data burst before he spoke again. “And just a little reminder, John – if you try and trick us, or we detect anyone else, dear Rodney will find out the hard way that my Sheppard has an itchy trigger finger.”
The laptop beeped, informing them that the message had been received and the alternate Rodney cut the connection. He grinned up at his team-mate. “Let the game begin.”
The present…
The moment he saw the address flash across the HUD, John felt a wave of dread wash over him. As the Jumper exited the Gate on M8S-393, he had to screw up his eyes against the blinding glare that assaulted him. He had only ever visited the planet once, and even then it had been at night. The Atlanteans had considered it as a potential alpha site back in their first year, but had quickly abandoned it – and for good reason.
M8S-393, although breath-taking, was dangerous. With its twin suns, the surface temperature during the day was insane, bordering on lethal. John remembered a snatch of the conversation he’d had with Weir, back when they’d been going over the potential sites: ‘ridiculously hot’ was what he’d said at the time. Now, though, he realised just how much of an understatement that was.
Even with the climate control in the ship, just looking at the haze thrown up by the suns made the Air Force man break out in a sweat. He scanned the area in front of him, looking for a gap in the rainforest to fire the drone as requested. Seeing nothing of the sort, he sent the missile up into the air, making it explode with a quick mental nudge.
The pilot smiled a little as he remembered the time he’d taught McKay how to pull off that stunt. The beaming, utterly joyful smile on his fiend’s expressive face had been priceless.
Sheppard’s attention was abruptly brought back as a high pitched whine caught his ears. Looking at the display, he found the cause – the unrelenting heat had melted Radek’s tracker.
“Crap,” he breathed, turning the alarm off. He just hoped that the engineer had been able to gather enough data to track him.
Before he could think any further on the matter, the HUD came up with a set of co-ordinates. Setting the course, John steeled himself. “So much for plan A,” he muttered, scrubbing at his hair in frustration. “Looks like it’s just me then,” he told his inner McKay. “I just need you to hang on a little while longer, okay?”
Funny, came the acerbic reply.
“Yeah, and you know it,” John shot back. “You better be alive when I find you, Answer Man, or I’ll kick your ghostly ass.”
Soon enough, Sheppard reached the destination – a series of caves spanning out from a waterfall. Landing Jumper One next to the largest, he took a couple of deep breaths before walking to the rear hatch and opening the door.
The heat nearly knocked him off his feet and he stumbled down the ramp, shedding his jacket as he went. Not even Afghanistan was as hot as this, he thought. His less than manly staggering came to an abrupt halt as he felt the cool metal of a P-90 muzzle pressed under his ear. He caught the familiar click of the safety being removed and his mouth went dry.
“Wotcha,” his double hissed, pushing the gun into Sheppard’s jaw so hard that the soldier cold feel the bruise forming. “Let’s take a walk.”
A sharp push between his shoulder blades sent the Colonel lurching forwards into the cavern. He slipped and reeled over the uneven ground, almost falling flat on his face at one point. The gloom made it impossible to see and every time his night vision began to kick in, his copy swung the light on his gun into the pilot’s eyes. It was cooler down in the tunnels, though, which was a relief: Sheppard was beginning to feel like he’d stepped into a shower with his clothes on.
Finally, they arrived at a large opening. John blinked the spots from his eyes, squinting until they adjusted to the light. As he saw his missing team-mate, he let out an inhuman sounding growl.
“Hello,” McKay's copy said. “Nice to see you again.” He nodded to his team-mate, who shoved Sheppard face first against the wall.
“You know, you really should’ve bought me a drink before you started manhandling me,” John quipped as his twin started to search him for hidden weapons.
The other Sheppard laughed and rewarded John’s humour with a punch to the kidney. The pilot grunted in pain, but managed to remain on his feet.
“I’m not really much of a gentleman, buddy,” his double replied. “Just ask your friend.” He bent down and tugged Ronon’s knife from John’s boot. “Not nice,” he growled, throwing the weapon across to the other Rodney and spinning John around to face him.
Sheppard grinned. “Takes a bastard to know one,” he smirked, “but I guess you already knew that.”
His twin lashed out with a boot, intending to kick John in the ribs, but the pilot easily anticipated the move. He grabbed his copy’s foot in mid air and twisted it, feeling a perverse thrill of pleasure as he heard a cry from the other man. The alternate Sheppard fell onto his back, bringing his injured leg close to his body as John stepped over him.
The other McKay gave a yell of anger and launched himself at the pilot, bringing him down with a tackle. John struggled free himself from the other Rodney’s grip, cursing that he’d forgotten that the man had a weight advantage. He managed to free an arm enough to claw at the rocks on the ground as McKay’s double wrapped his hands around Sheppard’s throat.
John gagged as the pressure on his windpipe increased, willing his fingers to latch onto a particularly heavy rock. Just as the spots started flashing in front of him, his hand clamped down on his prize and he swung with all of his might.
There was a sickening crunch as the stone connected solidly with the alternate McKay’s head, and the grip around John’s throat went slack. He coughed, gasping in huge lungfuls of air as the other man fell limply to the side. Sheppard rolled to his knees, taking a moment to get his bearings.
Unfortunately, that was all the time his double needed.
In one easy swing, he brought up one of his handcrafted knives and buried it in John’s shoulder right up to the hilt. The Air Force man let out a scream as the blade tore through his flesh, his hands scrabbling at his double’s arms. The other Sheppard grinned and went to rotate the handle to push the barbs into John’s body, but wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
John grabbed his twin’s wrist and pulled himself backwards off of the blade. Once free, he twisted his attacker’s arm violently, while at the same time pulling his leg out from underneath him. Then, in a move that would have made Ronon proud, he scythed the other Sheppard’s legs out from under him, causing the man to fall onto his back.
Sheppard grabbed the weapon and straddled his copy, leaning most of his weight into the other man’s diaphragm. “Give me a reason, you piece of shit,” he hissed, positioning the knife over his copy’s left shoulder. “Give me a fucking reason why I shouldn’t just gut you like a fish.”
“You don’t have the balls,” his counterpart croaked, blood covering his teeth.
John growled and drove the blade into the man beneath him, smiling savagely at the choked groan. “Is that all you can come up with?” he asked as he twisted the handle around as far as it could go. “Is that really the best you can do?” He grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled the knife out, tilting his head to avoid the exit spray. “Here’s a news flash for ya, buddy: that’s not good enough.” He moved the tip of the blade to the hollow of his double’s throat, pushing just enough to draw blood.
“You’re… not… killer… John.” The words were so quiet that for a moment, the soldier wondered if he’d heard them. He twisted his head around to see his Rodney staring blearily at him. “G-good man… not… not like… him…”
Sheppard looked back at his copy, surprised to see that the man was laughing. “What’s the joke, shit-head?” he snarled, tightening his grip on the knife.
“You,” the man replied, as his team-mate brought a rock down on the back of John’s skull. The Air Force man gave a soft sigh as he folded up.
The other McKay helped his team-mate up, hissing as he saw the damage to the man’s shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, motioning to the wound.
“I’m good, Rodney,” John’s copy replied. “Nothing a little Tylenol won’t fix.”
“C’mon, then,” Rodney’s counterpart said. “Let’s grab the Jumper and get off this shit-hole.”
But his friend was staring thoughtfully at the others. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea,” he said, turning to the scientist.
“Oh no,” the alternate McKay exclaimed. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I’m not your personal punch bag.”
“Do you really want to go to jail?” john’s double snarled. “It’ll work. I’ll even knock you out with some Morphine first if you’re that chicken.”
Other-Rodney considered for a moment before nodding. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment, “but what about these two?”
His friend grinned. “Leave ‘em here. They’ll never make it back to the Gate. And if we tell their friends how our ‘evil twins’ died in the fight, they won’t know any better, will they?”
“Good argument, clearly explained. So what’s first on your agenda?”
“I think the first play’s gonna be a broken bone or two,” the other Sheppard said, as he strode up to his team-mate, brandishing a stone.
Click here for Part 4.
Ow…
Rodney’s eyes fluttered open and he let out a low moan as the pain flooded his body. Deciding to focus on his situation rather than the few parts of him that didn’t hurt, he let his vision adjust. He was in a cave, strung up like a slab of meat, but thankfully alone.
Oh, that’s a really bad analogy, McKay, he thought to himself, trying to banish images from the horror movies he’d seen on team-nights.
He tried to think back to what had happened. As soon as they’d arrived on P3X-433, his other self had shifted back into phase and dialled out to another location. And then they went to a whole host of others before they’d finally ended up here.
Wherever the hell ‘here’ was.
The Canadian wasn’t an idiot. He knew that their doubles had made it virtually impossible for John and the others to track them. Even if they managed to somehow narrow down the hundreds of possible locations, it would take months if not years for them to find him. And something told the physicist that he wasn’t going to be around for that long…
He felt a jolt of worry at the thought of the wild haired pilot – the other Sheppard had hit him hard, but Rodney was convinced that he’d seen the soldier run into the Gate room just before the monster wearing his friend’s face had pulled him into the rippling blue puddle.
His shoulders were burning from the unnatural position they’d been forced into and Rodney was certain that they were on the verge of popping from their sockets. He tried to balance himself better, almost screaming at the jolt of pain that burnt its way through his left arm. Sheppard’s double had smashed the cast that had been protecting his shattered bones, claiming that Rodney could slip out of his bindings. That had hurt more than he thought possible but he’d grit his teeth, determined not to cry out. Unfortunately, his stoic attitude had simply egged the other John on, leading to a beating.
Now, though, the appendage was beginning to go numb, and Rodney was worried. That can’t be good. If only he could stand more upright…
Before he could dwell on how screwed he really was, his captors came back. He noted the camera and laptop tucked under his alternate self’s arm and fought down the panic.
“Oh look,” the other John drawled, “he’s awake again.”
“Sheppard, enough,” McKay’s twin snapped. “You know damn well he’s no good to us dead.”
Rodney really didn’t like the sound of that.
“Spoil sport,” the alternate Sheppard griped.
“You know,” Rodney croaked, “you could… be a little more… hospitable.”
“You’re right,” his double agreed with a sick smile. “I suppose it’s only polite to explain the situation to you.” He placed the items on the floor and walked over to the scientist, lifting Rodney’s head gently before frowning at the bruises and split lip. “John really made a mess of you, didn’t he? Naughty Colonel.” Behind him, his team-mate chuckled. “On the bright side, it’ll help convince your friends how serious our intentions are.”
“Leave them out… of this…”
“Now where would the fun be in that?” his copy asked. “You see, originally we were simply going to push you and your Sheppard through the mirror and take your places. No one would have been any the wiser and I could have arranged for a little ‘accident’ with the device to prevent the two of you from reappearing.”
“But your John was quick to rumble us,” the alternate Sheppard continued. “You really should have a talk with him about that paranoia. It wasn’t very nice of him to sic his long haired guard dog on me.”
“Why… did you want… to do that?” Rodney asked, trying to keep them talking. His vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, making him feel nauseous, so he opted to shut his eyes.
“You mean other than the fact that we were going to be sent to prison for the rest of our lives?” John’s copy replied. “We’re wanted men, doc.”
“Poor thing,” the other Rodney crooned, stroking his counterpart’s face. “I think we’ve confused him.”
“We’ll have to explain it better then,” his team-mate said. “Simply put, we were hired by the Trust to steal Ancient technology.” He smiled wolfishly. “But things got a little… out of hand.”
“You… you lied to… Elizabeth…” Rodney whispered, trying desperately to cling onto the fragile grip he had on consciousness.
“No, that was all true,” his twin stated. “Up until the Prometheus, anyway. That was my doing actually, causing an overload in the hyperdrive system. They never even knew what hit them.”
“One of your better explosions,” Other-John said, giving his friend a proud look.
“Thank you,” Other-Rodney replied with a malevolent grin.
“But… I don’t understand,” Rodney muttered. “Why would… you do that? How…?” He trailed off, feeling sickened. The man in front of him was meant to be him, effectively. How could he be so cold about causing the deaths of hundreds of innocent people?
“Because it felt good.”
Rodney felt like he was trapped in an unending nightmare. “Bastard,” he growled, wrenching his head out of his double’s grasp. “You’re sick…”
“Maybe, but I really don’t care any more. Losing Carson and Elizabeth was… well, it was too much to take,” the alternate McKay replied after a moment. “For a while, I didn’t know what to do with myself, but then I found out that Sheppard was considering the offer from the Trust,” he grinned and continued, “so I figured I’d join him.”
The grin fell and his face hardened. “After all, I don’t have anything else left to lose.”
“Neither of us does,” John’s double added.
“What… are you going to… do with me?” Rodney asked, terrified by what he might hear. The men in front of him were psychopaths, no question about it.
“Since your Colonel Sheppard threw a spanner in the works, so to speak, we’re going to have to do things the old fashioned way,” the alternate McKay said. “We want sanctuary in this dimension, and you’re going to help us get it.”
Rodney’s heart thumped loudly in his chest as he realised what his counterpart meant – they were going to use him as leverage, a bargaining chip. Over my dead body…
“It’ll never work,” he said defiantly, receiving a whoop from his inner Sheppard.
“And why would that be, Rodney?” Other-John asked.
“Because… Elizabeth won’t negotiate… with terrorists,” Rodney replied, panting from pain and fear. “And Sheppard… would kill you… rather than… let you stay.”
“Oh, believe me, doc, by the time I’m through with you, they’ll do whatever we want.”
“I should listen to him if I were you,” Other-McKay said. “John’s an expert when it comes to torture, really has a knack for prolonging the agony.” He moved back and retrieved the equipment he’d placed on the ground. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?” he asked, looking at his team-mate as he set the camera up and pressed the record button.
John’s twin grinned and took off his jacket. “Thought you’d never ask, buddy,” he replied before advancing on Rodney.
John woke up slowly, his head throbbing. Blinking to clear his blurred vision, he realised that he was in the infirmary. What the hell…? Looking around, the pilot noted that none of his team-mates were there. That was strange – they usually had to be pried away with a crowbar if he was a resident, especially a certain scientist…
Then a memory surfaced that had him scrambling about in his bed, trying to untangle his body from all the wires surrounding him.
“McKay!” he yelled hoarsely, panic and fear taking control and lending him a frightening strength.
Within seconds, Carson was by his side having heard the commotion from his office. “Colonel, calm down! You’ll do yourself a mischief!”
“No, no, no, gotta get out of here, gotta get Rodney,” Sheppard babbled frantically, not registering Beckett’s words. “Bastards took him…” He lashed out blindly, trying to free himself from the physician’s grip. “Let go of me, doc! I’ve got to go! I have to find him!” He groaned as the room span wildly.
“John Sheppard, you listen to me!” Carson growled in an authoritarian voice. “You’ve a whopping great concussion! I need you to calm down and stop fighting me.” He held onto the Air Force Man with all his might as he repeated himself in an attempt to calm the agitated man.
Finally, the Scotsman’s words began to sink in and John ceased his struggles. “Carson?” he asked in a tiny voice, as if he was only just beginning to properly register where he was.
“Aye, lad?”
The soldier turned an alarming shade of green. “Think I’m gonna be sick…”
Beckett sighed. “I’m not surprised, what with the way you were thrashing about.” As he spoke, he grabbed a bed pan and gently rolled his friend onto his side, rubbing comforting circles on John’s back as he emptied the contents of his stomach.
John let out a shaky breath once he had finished, gladly accepting the glass of water offered. Relieved when it didn’t make an immediate reappearance, he closed his eyes. Carson took advantage of the moment to administer an injection.
“What was tha’ for?” Sheppard asked suspiciously, knowing that he must have been in a bad way not to notice the needle.
“To help with the nausea, son, and the headache from hell that I’m certain you have.”
“How… how’s Radek?”
Beckett smiled at Sheppard’s selfless question. “The boy’ll be fine,” he replied. “He’s got a mighty fine headache and a couple of nasty bruises on his neck, but nothing that can’t be fixed. Now you, on the other hand…”
John gave him a wobbly version of his usual cheeky grin. “Hard headed, doc, you know me. Any word from Lorne yet?”
“Oh, so you remember that part then?” The teasing grin fell as Carson shook his head. “The Major got back about half an hour ago. His team scoured the planet from top to bottom with the help of our friends, the Damarians, but there was neither hide nor hair of them.”
The pilot’s face remained impassive, but the Scotsman could see the worry flicker in his eyes. “Must’ve gated somewhere else,” he stated eventually. “Maybe to dozens of other planets.”
“Radek’s working on it, but I fear you’re right, son,” Beckett replied.
John gave a weak shrug. “It’s what I’d do.” He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.
“And speaking of ‘doing’, what on Earth are you up to?” the doctor demanded as he watched the Colonel pull out the IV line in his hand.
“I can’t stay here, Carson,” Sheppard explained. “Not while Rodney’s in trouble.”
Beckett was about to argue, but then remembered the conversation he’d had with McKay earlier that morning and shut his mouth.
John saw the look that crossed his friend’s face and stopped changing out of his scrub top to place a hand on Carson’s shoulder. “Don’t go there, doc,” he said firmly. “None of this was your fault.”
“I wish I could believe that, John,” Beckett replied sadly, “but I can’t help but think that if only I hadn’t been so heavy-handed, we would nae be in this situation. After what I said to Rodney…” He shook his head. “Honestly, Colonel, I wish I’d never banned him from his lab. I could’ve prevented this.”
Sheppard shook his head. “No, we’d be in even more trouble. Look, McKay’s a law unto himself at the best of times. Every now and then, we’ve gotta be firm with him.” He smiled gently. “And before you start beating yourself up about over-stepping your boundaries as a doctor, remind yourself that you were doing it as a friend. Rodney knew… knows… that.” He grimaced at the slip, telling himself firmly not to go down that road.
He was going to find his errant geek and then he was going to knock seven shades of shit out of his double. If they’ve so much as split a hair on McKay’s head…
“Since when did you get so wise?” Carson asked, pulling him away from his vengeful thoughts.
John chuckled. “Let’s just say that I had a good teacher.” He squeezed the Scot’s shoulder affectionately before letting his arm drop.
“So what’s the plan then?” Carson asked once Sheppard resumed getting dressed.
The Air Force man scowled. “As much as I hate to say it, the next move is theirs.”
“We wait?”
“Yeah, doc, we wait.” And pray, John added silently, feeling sick to his stomach.
We pray…
Chapter 10: Video Nasty
The fist struck him so hard that Rodney was certain that he would end up a brain damaged vegetable. As his double fiddled with the camera and its tripod, the other John had decided to make a start with his side of things.
“Just a little warm-up, doc,” he had said conversationally, before proceeding to beat the scientist to within an inch of his life.
It had gotten to the point where Rodney couldn’t even feel the individual blows anymore. His entire body throbbed so much that there wasn’t a single place that wasn’t hurting. Throughout the ordeal, he had tried to concentrate on what his twin was doing, but it had proved to be easier said than done. He couldn’t see anything out of his left eye and what little vision he had in the right was blurred around the edges.
From what he could gather, the alternate McKay had connected a device to his laptop; it appeared to be Goa’uld in design but without seeing it up close, Rodney couldn’t tell for sure. All he did know was that his copy had been working on a macro for the last forty minutes, presumably to connect the device to the Gate.
The other McKay finished typing and looked up, giving a loud wolf whistle.
Other-Sheppard’s head spun round mid punch. “What?” he barked, angry at having been disturbed.
Unlike two days ago, McKay’s copy didn’t appear cowed by his team-mate’s aggression. “Show time, John,” he replied. “Remember what we agreed? Rodney has to be breathing when we broadcast.” He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down Rodney’s spine. “Of course, afterwards is a whole ‘nother matter.”
The alternate John laughed. “Are you ready to dial?”
Rodney frowned, wondering if he’d heard that right. The Gate wasn’t in the cave: it was well over a mile away…
Then it struck him. They were going to remote dial.
“Ready when you are, Sheppard.” Seeing a nod from his team-mate, the other McKay typed in a command on the laptop before walking over to Rodney. He stuck a hand in one of the Canadian’s pockets, grinning as he retrieved his prize – Rodney’s GDO. “We’re broadcasting live,” he whispered, “and this way, we’ll be sure to get an audience.”
“Incoming wormhole!”
At Chuck’s shout, John and Elizabeth ran from her office, coming to an abrupt halt right behind the Canadian technician’s chair. He flinched as the Air Force man gripped the back of his seat.
“What’s the address?” John asked, leaning so far over Chuck’s shoulder that he was practically perched on the man’s lap.
“I, uh, I don’t know, sir,” the technician replied. “There’s something blocking the signal. It’s like whoever’s dialling is… cloaking their location somehow.” He looked up, bewildered. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“IDC?” Elizabeth asked. It had been almost four hours since Rodney had been taken and the level of worry for her Chief Scientist was verging on hysterical. The knowledge that she had allowed John’s double to waltz off through the Gate did nothing to ease the snakes that had taken up residence in her gut, despite everyone’s insistence that she had no way of knowing.
I should have done, she thought grimly. I should have realised…
“Nothing yet… Oh no, wait!” Chuck corrected himself, tapping on the computer screen in front of him. “It’s Dr McKay’s code.”
“Lower the shield!” Sheppard barked, already halfway down the stairs. Although he wasn’t naïve enough to believe that Rodney had been released, he couldn’t contain the tiny flicker of hope that ignited at the back of his mind. McKay was a genius after all, and it was entirely possible that he had either convinced their doppelgangers to free him or somehow escaped…
But as soon as he heard the voice that emanated from the radio channel, his heart sank.
“Afternoon, Atlantis,” Sheppard’s double greeted casually. “Hope you’re all behaving yourselves.”
John trotted back up the steps to the control room, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists.
“Colonel Sheppard,” Elizabeth greeted coolly.
“Dr Weir,” came the reply. “We think we have something of yours. Are you missing a stray, perhaps? Brown hair, blue eyes, terrible ego problems, answers to the name ‘Rodney’?”
“Quit the mind games,” John snapped, his temper and frustration finally erupting. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but it ends right now. D’you hear me?”
“Always so headstrong. Must be an inter-dimensional flaw in you Sheppards.” That was the other McKay. “And really, Colonel, that’s awful language to be using on a public radio frequency. Didn’t your mother teach you any manners?”
“Come and say that to my face, you piece of…”
“Enough!” Weir snapped. “John, I know you’re angry, but this isn’t helping,” she hissed at her Commanding Military Officer.
“You should listen to the pretty lady, buddy,” John’s copy drawled lazily.
“Where is our Dr McKay?” Elizabeth asked, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.
“Oh, he’s… hanging in there.” There was a thump, followed by a muted groan.
“What do you want?”
“We have a proposition for you,” McKay’s twin replied. “But these things are so impersonal over the radio, don’t you think?”
“Alright then,” John answered. “What are you suggesting?”
“Get Zelenka to stream the following link to the conference room and you’ll see,” the other McKay said. “We’ll give you ten minutes to set everything up before we call you back.”
“Wait!” Elizabeth called. “We want to talk to Rodney.”
“In ten minutes.” There was a brief pause. “Oh, and if you’re not ready by then, things will get very messy.”
With a whoosh the Gate shut down, leaving a group of speechless, shell-shocked people wondering what the hell had just hit them.
Elizabeth was the first to snap out of her reverie. “Get Radek up here now,” she said to Chuck, who nodded and tapped his earpiece. As he spoke to the Czech, she turned to John. “Tell Teyla, Ronon and Carson to meet us in the conference room,” she told him. “And let them know that it might not be pleasant.”
The group that gathered in the conference room was a sombre one. No one knew what to expect, other than the fact that Elizabeth’s warning would doubtless be proved correct.
Zelenka had managed to transfer the video feed to the display screen in a matter of seconds, and was trying to hack the ‘cloak’ blocking the Gate address from their systems. Judging from the frustrated grunts and curses in Czech, the engineer was having no luck.
“Leave it for now, Z,” John said, shutting the lid of the keyboard when it looked as though Radek was two seconds away from taking an axe to the machine. “Let’s just see what they want then worry about the details later, okay?”
“My apologies, Colonel,” Zelenka replied, fidgeting nervously. He shifted about in his chair restlessly, unable to settle and wondering how the others managed to remain so calm. “I am… how would you say… distracted. I cannot concentrate.” His voice dropped down to a hoarse whisper as his fingers drummed out a nervous, uneven rhythm on the table. “And I am worried for Rodney. The others are… I do not wish to alarm anyone, but… They are not sane.”
John nodded sympathetically, trying to push aside his own fears. The group needed him to be Lt Col John Sheppard, Military Commander of Atlantis. Rodney would need him to be focused and calm, not on the brink of going apoplectic with the rage slowly building up inside of him. So he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to clear his mind as he set his jaw. There would be time to go into meltdown later, when his geek was safely back in the city. “Yeah, doc,” he said, “I know.”
“We are all concerned for Dr McKay,” Teyla added, resting a hand over Radek’s to stop the fretful movements. “But we will do everything in our power to find him and bring him home.” Next to her, Ronon nodded in agreement.
“What about your doubles?” the Czech asked in a small voice.
“I think that you’ll have to wait your turn, lad,” Carson replied. “I’ve a feeling that there’s a long line of people who want to have a wee talk with them first.”
“Play nice, doc,” Ronon said, trying to hide a smirk.
“Carson!” Elizabeth admonished. “You took an oath!”
Beckett just smiled serenely, making everyone else shudder.
Before anyone could say any more, the Gate alarm sounded and seconds later, the screen in the conference room fizzled into life. The picture was grainy, but Zelenka typed in a few commands to enhance the resolution and they were rewarded when the alternate McKay’s face slowly faded into view.
“Dr McKay,” Elizabeth said, straightening in her seat.
“Ah, you managed it then?” he asked, grinning slightly. “This is a much more civilised way to communicate, don’t you think? Tell Zelenka it’s a job well done.” He paused for a moment, his face contorting into a twisted parody of concern. And how is dear Radek? Not feeling too rough around the edges, I hope?”
The engineer trembled in his chair.
“Leave him alone,” John growled.
“Ah, Colonel, still in that dreadful mood of yours, I see.”
“Bite me.”
“We want to see Rodney,” Elizabeth cut in quickly, trying to diffuse the situation. “It’s been ten minutes.”
“So it has,” McKay’s double agreed amicably. “I don’t see the harm.” He stepped away from the camera, allowing it to zoom in on the far wall.
The group gave an audible gasp when they saw their missing scientist.
Rodney was a mess. He’d already been beaten so badly that the left side of his face was black, blue and every other shade in between, and his eye was swollen shut. The other had a worryingly glassy look about it, the pupil so dilated that only a tiny sliver of his normally blue iris was visible. He hung limply from his bonds, his left wrist distended and at an unnatural angle.
“Rodney,” Elizabeth breathed, unable to hide the quiver in her voice.
As if he heard her, Rodney managed to lift his head in the direction of the camera and gave them a brave but pained smile. “’Liz’beth?” he croaked. “That… you?”
“Yeah, buddy, we’re all here,” John said in an unusually calm and controlled voice.
“John…” Rodney whispered, trying to push himself more upright. “You… okay?”
“I’m fine, Answer Man,” the Air Force man replied, shaking his head. All the pain that the Canadian must have been in and McKay was worried about him?
I am going to kill them. There won’t even be enough left to send back through that damn mirror by the time I’m finished with them…
“As touching as this little reunion is, I think we should get down to business,” the other Sheppard said.
“Don’t… give them anything,” Rodney cut in. “No matter what… they do… don’t…” He broke off with a cry of pain as John’s double hit him hard in the stomach.
“Stop!” Weir yelled.
The alternate John held his hands up with an innocent look.
“What do you want?” Teyla asked, motioning for Ronon to sit down; he’d leapt to his feet at Rodney’s cry.
“Sanctuary and immunity in this dimension,” McKay’s double replied. “Otherwise Rodney is officially dead.”
“You know we can’t do that,” Elizabeth said sadly.
In the cave, the bys’ twins stared at one another. “You can,” the other Sheppard insisted. “If you really want to.”
“Maybe they just need an incentive,” his team-mate said, tilting is head to the side as he looked at their hostage. “Why don’t you give them a taste of your talents, John? Just to prove that we aren’t screwing around?”
“With pleasure.” Sheppard’s copy moved across to the far side of the cave, returning with a long, slender pouch. He unrolled it carefully, taking out a thin bladed knife. “Do you like them, doc?” he asked, tilting it this way and that so the blade glinted ominously in the light. “I had them made especially for me. They’re as smooth as a hot knife through butter going in, but the fun really starts when I pull ‘em back out.” He leaned in close to whisper in Rodney’s ear, “And feel free to scream all you want, buddy. Let your friends know how much it hurts.”
The Atlanteans watched in horror as John’s double plunged the knife deep into Rodney’s hip, just above the bone. Remarkably, the only sound from the scientists was a quiet whimper, but John could see his friend shaking and knew how much the effort of keeping quiet was costing him. They continued to watch as the man then began to slowly rotate the weapon, wincing at the wet coughs it produced from McKay. The alternate Sheppard then pulled the knife out.
This time, Rodney did scream. As his torturer held the weapon up close to the camera, the gang saw why; as the knife had been rotated, it had spat out tiny barbs which had pulled out chunks of flesh along the way.
“You fucking bastards!” the Colonel shouted, thumping the table.
Unfortunately for Rodney, John’s outburst only served to egg his twin on. With a chuckle, he moved back to his victim and repeated the entire process on the physicist’s thigh.
“You really do have a filthy mouth,” McKay’s copy said as Rodney’s cries died away. “I’m surprised no one’s cut out your tongue yet.”
Unable to watch any more, the girls looked away.
“Please stop this,” Carson pleaded, wondering how much more pain his friend could stand.
“Once you agree to our terms,” the alternate McKay said. “You can put an end to this right now if you want.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “We do not negotiate with terrorists.”
“Funny, that was what he said,” the other John replied as he replaced the now blood soaked blade back into his pouch. He pulled out another device, keeping it close to his body and Rodney finally broke.
“Please, p-please… d-don’t do this,” he begged, trembling.
“Sorry, doc,” John’s copy said in a tone that suggested he was anything but apologetic, “but your friends won’t co-operate.”
“Rodney?” Sheppard said, alarmed at his friend’s reaction. “What is it? What’s he got?”
“Oh my God,” Carson breathed.
“Doc?” asked Ronon.
“Carson, what is it?” asked Elizabeth. “What’s he holding?”
Rodney was shaking violently, trying to pull away from the ropes holding him in place as the alternate John advanced on him. The man moved behind the Canadian and thrust the stick into the small of his back.
In the conference room, the team paled as they saw the orange light emanating from Rodney’s eyes and mouth, flinching at the scream of agony.
“What is that?” Teyla asked.
“A Goa’uld pain stick,” Beckett replied, his face pale.
“Enough!” Weir cried, unable to see her friend suffer.
“Do you agree to our terms?” McKay’s double asked.
She shook her head mutely.
Sheppard’s double struck Rodney with the pain stick twice more before the scientist went limp. “You’ll find us at the following address,” he said, holding up a piece of paper. “Colonel Sheppard is to come alone and unarmed in a supply-loaded jumper. If you try and sneak anyone else through with you, or smuggle any kind of weaponry on board, we’ll kill your friend.”
“You’ve got one hour,” McKay’s copy said as the feed shut down.
“What do we do?” asked Ronon, breaking the shocked silence. “If we don’t give ‘em what they want, the little man’s dead.”
“And he’s just as dead once they’ve got the supplies they need,” John shot back.
“Well, what do you suggest?” asked Elizabeth. “We don’t have much time.”
“We need to be creative,” Carson said.
“What d’you mean, doc?”
“We must think like Rodney,” Zelenka replied, catching onto Beckett’s idea. “We must be cunning, no?”
For the first time that afternoon, John smiled. “What did you have in mind, Z?”
Chapter 11: Subtle Deception
The atmosphere in the Jumper Bay was unmistakably tense as the last of the checks were carried out. The maintenance crews shared worried looks and exchanged whispered conversations between themselves, casting furtive glances towards the sole occupant of Jumper One. Although none of them dared to say it out loud, the one thought on everyone’s minds was that John Sheppard seemed scared.
As he sat in the cockpit of the small ship, the Air Force man tried to ignore what was going on around him and focus on the plan. The last thing he wanted was to prove the crews correct.
He was scared.
At first, he’d put it down to the usual pre-mission jitters, but as he’d watched the supplies being loaded and gone over the final details of Zelenka’s scheme, the unease had morphed into full blown terror. The soldier in him was demanding that he suck it up and use his fear, that he should turn it into something he could exploit to gain an advantage. The rest of him, however, wanted to run away from the whole thing and not emerge until the dust had settled. Trying to still his trembling hands and calm his frantic heartbeat, he realised the reason behind his sudden apprehension: Rodney’s life now rested solely on his actions.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been in this kind of situation – hell, there had been at least a dozen or so occasions when he’d had to pull off a crazy stunt or two to rescue his team-mates – but the stakes were impossibly high. If he screwed this up…
“Colonel Sheppard, are you set?”
The voice that came over the Jumper’s radio made John jump. Letting out the breath he’d subconsciously been holding, he cleared his throat. “I’m ready when you are, control,” he replied. Years of experience helped him to hide the nervousness. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
“John…”
The pilot sighed inwardly as he heard Elizabeth. What he was about to attempt was dicey to say the least, and the expedition leader’s shaking tone wasn’t helping. “Elizabeth,” he replied as patiently as he could, hoping that she’d hurry up before he lost his nerve.
“Just… be safe, alright?” she pleaded. “And bring him home.”
John gave a cocky smile that he didn’t feel – even though he knew no one could see it. “You bet,” he said, powering up the ship with a thought.
Seconds later, the Jumper descended into the control room and hovered in front of the Gate. Sheppard dialled the address given by his double then activated the concealed tracking device that Radek had fitted underneath the right drive pod.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” the Colonel said before his ship disappeared into the wormhole.
One hour earlier…
… “What do we do?” asked Ronon, breaking the shocked silence. “If we don’t give ‘em what they want, the little man’s dead.”
“And he’s just as dead once they’ve got the supplies they need,” John shot back.
“Well, what do you suggest?” asked Elizabeth. “We don’t have much time.”
“We need to be creative,” Carson said.
“What d’you mean, doc?”
“We must think like Rodney,” Zelenka replied, catching onto Beckett’s idea. “We must be cunning, no?”
For the first time that afternoon, John smiled. “What did you have in mind, Z?”
The Czech gave them a wily grin. “They have used stolen technology to execute their plan. What I suggest is that we do the same.”
“But we do not have any stolen equipment,” Teyla said, looking offended and confused in equal measure. “And we are not thieves.”
“We don’t have to be, lass,” Carson cut in. “All the lad means is that we’ve got to play them at their own game.”
The group listened as Radek outlined his idea: he and his engineering team had been working on a tracking device that could be attached to the Jumpers. What he proposed was to fit said gizmo to the ship, then have John pilot it to the meeting point. That way, the soldier would appear to be alone while the Atlanteans could keep tabs on him. “It is still in early stages, but should work well enough for our needs,” the engineer said.
“But why bother?” asked Ronon. “Why don’t we just follow in a cloaked Jumper?”
“For a start, the Gate address my copy gave us isn’t gonna be the correct location,” John said. “More than likely, it’ll be to stop us finding them. It’s what I’d do,” he added when the Satedan gave him an incredulous look.
“And there’s every chance that they’ll be able to monitor what comes through the Gate,” Elizabeth added. “This is another version of McKay we’re talking about after all.”
“That settles it then,” Sheppard said. “How soon can you have your doohickey fitted, doc?”
Zelenka frowned as he thought. “Will take maybe forty minutes,” he replied hesitantly. “Is easy to install but configuring readings will be hard part.”
“Well, we’d better get started then…”
“Wait a second,” Carson cut in. “This seems bloody risky to me. I know I’m just a medical doctor and not an engineer, but how do you know they won’t be able to detect the tracker?”
“Dr Beckett is correct,” Teyla said. “This plan is dangerous. How do you know it will be successful?”
“There is risk,” Radek agreed, “but if we place tracker under drive pod, the jumper’s energy signature should mask reading from our little toy.”
“And besides, we all know that Rodney would be the first person to pull this kind of crazy stunt if it was any of us in his position,” John added. “Are we all agreed?”
He and Radek were out of the door before anyone could argue.
“I don’t like it,” Ronon said once the doors had shut again. “Don’t know why, but it feels like a setup to me.”
“Agreed,” Weir said. “Go and find Major Lorne and Lieutenant Edison. Have them put their strike teams on standby.”
As the last two members of SGA-1 filed out, Elizabeth turned to Beckett. “How long has Rodney got?” she asked quietly. “I didn’t want to bring it up in front of John and the others but… I need to know.” She shuddered as the images of her friend being tortured replayed in her mind.
The Scotsman shook his head sadly. “From what I could see, the lad’s lost a fair bit of blood and has a very nasty head injury. Depending on the degree of neural trauma…”
“Best guess, Carson,” the dark-haired woman pushed.
“At the most, we’re looking at four hours. He does nae look it, but Rodney’s a scrappy bugger. If anyone was going to beat the odds, it’d be him.”
“And worst case?”
“Worst case… Two hours maybe less.” He let out a shaky sigh. “Whatever John and Radek have planned, we’d better pray that it works.”
The present…
…John shook his head as he tried to push the memories aside. He had been waiting next to the Gate on M7S-804 for five minutes, with nothing else to do but replay everything. The longer he waited, the tenser he got – so much so that he was beginning to wonder whether this really was such a good idea after all.
Maybe I should’ve tackled the bastard when I had the chance.
Not having his flak jacket or sidearm was starting to get to him. Although he’d been trained to make weapons out of anything close by and excelled at hand to hand combat, John felt naked without his 9 mil strapped to his leg. He wasn’t completely unarmed – one of Ronon’s smaller daggers was hidden in the back of his boot. And just in case they found that one, the buckle of his belt also had a blade hidden in it. That had been a birthday present from Rodney, mainly because the physicist had gotten fed up with Sheppard moaning about how many knives Ronon had.
The one thing that was bothering him more than anything was why their twins had sabotaged the mirror. Maybe it was an insurance policy of some kind; thinking about it, the Air Force man decided that it made sense. That way, if the team didn’t deliver there would be no way to send them back.
And I’ve got the feeling that they don’t want to go back…
A burst of static brought him back the present and he saw that the Gate had been activated. “That you, you sickos?” he snarled, trying to cover the fact that he’d been caught off-guard.
“Nice of you to join us Colonel,” McKay’s double greeted. “I trust you’ve come alone and unarmed as requested?”
“Believe it or not, I’m a man of my word, which is more than I can say about the two of you,” he replied. “Now how about we quit fooling around? I’ve got your Jumper.”
“You’ll receive an address in about thirty seconds. Dial it and fire a drone when you get to the other side. We’ll radio again once we see your signal.” There was a pause before McKay’s alternate spoke again, “And just a little reminder, John – if you try and trick us, or we detect anyone else, dear Rodney will find out the hard way that my Sheppard has an itchy trigger finger.”
The Gate shut down, but not before the HUD of Jumper One flickered into life. Recognising the symbols flashing across the screen, John dialled the address, hoping that he wasn’t about to make a terrible mistake.
Chapter 12: Here Comes the Cavalry…
In the half hour before John gated to M7S-804…
Rodney was somewhere in a dark void, blissfully unaware of the pain that flooded his body. He felt like he was floating, and while it was disconcerting, he preferred it to the agony he had endured a short while ago. Unfortunately, his respite was soon snatched away as something cold and wet was tipped over his head.
Coughing and spluttering, he reluctantly forced his good eye to open and groaned softly as he realised that he hadn’t been rescued.
Yet, his internal Sheppard reminded him sharply. You haven’t been rescued yet. You know I’m coming to get you. Just hold on a little longer…
“Hi there, Sleepy Head,” the other John greeted with a quiet chuckle as he tossed the water bucket to the side. Rodney couldn’t help flinching as the sound of it hitting the stone floor reverberated in his pounding head. “You don’t want to miss the good bit, do you?” John’s copy asked, as he moved away to allow his team-mate to take a look.
Rodney couldn’t stop shivering. Whether it was from shock or the blood loss was open for debate, but neither of those options were particularly helpful. Come on, buddy, stay focused. Don’t think about that; just concentrate on the little things.
That’s easy for you to say! Rodney grumbled back. You’re not the one hanging in a pool of your own blood! And you don’t have holes in places where there shouldn’t be any!
“Oh, John,” his double scolded. “Did you really have to make such a mess? Blood’s a bitch to get out of stone.” He gave the Canadian an almost apologetic look. “We really ought to try and stop the bleeding. After all, it’ll be no fun if you’re dead when the good Colonel gets here.”
“I’ve got just the thing,” Sheppard’s twin said, rooting around in his backpack.
“Won’t… come,” Rodney managed to grit out, sweat beading on his forehead at the effort. “Not… worth… risk…”
“You underestimate the power of friendship,” his copy replied. “He’ll be here.”
The alternate John stood up, pulling a bottle out of his bag with a flourish. Rodney eyed it apprehensively; it contained a clear liquid, which he hoped to God he wouldn’t have to drink. “This’ll soon have you up and about again.”
“Wha…?”
“Hold him.”
The other McKay moved behind Rodney, wrapping his hands around the scientist’s waist as his team-mate advanced. “Got this a couple of years ago,” John’s copy explained. “Its original purpose was to clean the drive pods of the Jumpers, but I prefer it for this.” He opened the cap and allowed a few drops to trickle down onto Rodney’s thigh injury.
At first, the warmth produced by the sweet smelling liquid was a pleasant relief to the cold eating away at McKay, but within seconds he was in agony. The pain was excruciating, almost as if he was being burnt by acid. He refused to utter a sound though, not wanting to give either of them the satisfaction.
Other-John repeated the process on Rodney’s hip.
He wasn’t going to scream.
The burning sensation spread down both legs, making him feel as though he’d been set on fire.
He wasn’t going to scream…
“The Ancients called it ‘Fire of Heaven’,” the other Rodney crooned in his ear. “A pretty accurate description, really. Now be a good little physicist and tell Uncle John how much it hurts.” He moved his hand and dug his fingers into the wound above Rodney’s hip.
An unwilling howl burst from McKay’s chest, echoing around the cavern as he writhed. Laughter chased it as the two men stepped away from their victim.
“Impressive,” the alternate Rodney complimented as McKay’s cries dwindled to pained whimpers.
“Why, thank you, doc,” John’s copy replied, grinning with dark pride.
An alarm sounded from the laptop, prompting both men to move further away from Rodney.
“That him?”
Other-McKay nodded. “Right on time.” He tapped in a couple of commands to activate the Gate before tapping his radio three times.
“That you, you sickos?” John snarled.
“Nice of you to join us Colonel,” McKay’s double greeted. “I trust you’ve come alone and unarmed as requested?”
“Believe it or not, I’m a man of my word, which is more than I can say about the two of you,” came the reply. “Now how about we quit fooling around? I’ve got your Jumper.”
“You’ll receive an address in about thirty seconds. Dial it and fire a drone when you get to the other side. We’ll radio again once we see your signal.” McKay’s alternate paused to trigger the data burst before he spoke again. “And just a little reminder, John – if you try and trick us, or we detect anyone else, dear Rodney will find out the hard way that my Sheppard has an itchy trigger finger.”
The laptop beeped, informing them that the message had been received and the alternate Rodney cut the connection. He grinned up at his team-mate. “Let the game begin.”
The present…
The moment he saw the address flash across the HUD, John felt a wave of dread wash over him. As the Jumper exited the Gate on M8S-393, he had to screw up his eyes against the blinding glare that assaulted him. He had only ever visited the planet once, and even then it had been at night. The Atlanteans had considered it as a potential alpha site back in their first year, but had quickly abandoned it – and for good reason.
M8S-393, although breath-taking, was dangerous. With its twin suns, the surface temperature during the day was insane, bordering on lethal. John remembered a snatch of the conversation he’d had with Weir, back when they’d been going over the potential sites: ‘ridiculously hot’ was what he’d said at the time. Now, though, he realised just how much of an understatement that was.
Even with the climate control in the ship, just looking at the haze thrown up by the suns made the Air Force man break out in a sweat. He scanned the area in front of him, looking for a gap in the rainforest to fire the drone as requested. Seeing nothing of the sort, he sent the missile up into the air, making it explode with a quick mental nudge.
The pilot smiled a little as he remembered the time he’d taught McKay how to pull off that stunt. The beaming, utterly joyful smile on his fiend’s expressive face had been priceless.
Sheppard’s attention was abruptly brought back as a high pitched whine caught his ears. Looking at the display, he found the cause – the unrelenting heat had melted Radek’s tracker.
“Crap,” he breathed, turning the alarm off. He just hoped that the engineer had been able to gather enough data to track him.
Before he could think any further on the matter, the HUD came up with a set of co-ordinates. Setting the course, John steeled himself. “So much for plan A,” he muttered, scrubbing at his hair in frustration. “Looks like it’s just me then,” he told his inner McKay. “I just need you to hang on a little while longer, okay?”
Funny, came the acerbic reply.
“Yeah, and you know it,” John shot back. “You better be alive when I find you, Answer Man, or I’ll kick your ghostly ass.”
Soon enough, Sheppard reached the destination – a series of caves spanning out from a waterfall. Landing Jumper One next to the largest, he took a couple of deep breaths before walking to the rear hatch and opening the door.
The heat nearly knocked him off his feet and he stumbled down the ramp, shedding his jacket as he went. Not even Afghanistan was as hot as this, he thought. His less than manly staggering came to an abrupt halt as he felt the cool metal of a P-90 muzzle pressed under his ear. He caught the familiar click of the safety being removed and his mouth went dry.
“Wotcha,” his double hissed, pushing the gun into Sheppard’s jaw so hard that the soldier cold feel the bruise forming. “Let’s take a walk.”
A sharp push between his shoulder blades sent the Colonel lurching forwards into the cavern. He slipped and reeled over the uneven ground, almost falling flat on his face at one point. The gloom made it impossible to see and every time his night vision began to kick in, his copy swung the light on his gun into the pilot’s eyes. It was cooler down in the tunnels, though, which was a relief: Sheppard was beginning to feel like he’d stepped into a shower with his clothes on.
Finally, they arrived at a large opening. John blinked the spots from his eyes, squinting until they adjusted to the light. As he saw his missing team-mate, he let out an inhuman sounding growl.
“Hello,” McKay's copy said. “Nice to see you again.” He nodded to his team-mate, who shoved Sheppard face first against the wall.
“You know, you really should’ve bought me a drink before you started manhandling me,” John quipped as his twin started to search him for hidden weapons.
The other Sheppard laughed and rewarded John’s humour with a punch to the kidney. The pilot grunted in pain, but managed to remain on his feet.
“I’m not really much of a gentleman, buddy,” his double replied. “Just ask your friend.” He bent down and tugged Ronon’s knife from John’s boot. “Not nice,” he growled, throwing the weapon across to the other Rodney and spinning John around to face him.
Sheppard grinned. “Takes a bastard to know one,” he smirked, “but I guess you already knew that.”
His twin lashed out with a boot, intending to kick John in the ribs, but the pilot easily anticipated the move. He grabbed his copy’s foot in mid air and twisted it, feeling a perverse thrill of pleasure as he heard a cry from the other man. The alternate Sheppard fell onto his back, bringing his injured leg close to his body as John stepped over him.
The other McKay gave a yell of anger and launched himself at the pilot, bringing him down with a tackle. John struggled free himself from the other Rodney’s grip, cursing that he’d forgotten that the man had a weight advantage. He managed to free an arm enough to claw at the rocks on the ground as McKay’s double wrapped his hands around Sheppard’s throat.
John gagged as the pressure on his windpipe increased, willing his fingers to latch onto a particularly heavy rock. Just as the spots started flashing in front of him, his hand clamped down on his prize and he swung with all of his might.
There was a sickening crunch as the stone connected solidly with the alternate McKay’s head, and the grip around John’s throat went slack. He coughed, gasping in huge lungfuls of air as the other man fell limply to the side. Sheppard rolled to his knees, taking a moment to get his bearings.
Unfortunately, that was all the time his double needed.
In one easy swing, he brought up one of his handcrafted knives and buried it in John’s shoulder right up to the hilt. The Air Force man let out a scream as the blade tore through his flesh, his hands scrabbling at his double’s arms. The other Sheppard grinned and went to rotate the handle to push the barbs into John’s body, but wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
John grabbed his twin’s wrist and pulled himself backwards off of the blade. Once free, he twisted his attacker’s arm violently, while at the same time pulling his leg out from underneath him. Then, in a move that would have made Ronon proud, he scythed the other Sheppard’s legs out from under him, causing the man to fall onto his back.
Sheppard grabbed the weapon and straddled his copy, leaning most of his weight into the other man’s diaphragm. “Give me a reason, you piece of shit,” he hissed, positioning the knife over his copy’s left shoulder. “Give me a fucking reason why I shouldn’t just gut you like a fish.”
“You don’t have the balls,” his counterpart croaked, blood covering his teeth.
John growled and drove the blade into the man beneath him, smiling savagely at the choked groan. “Is that all you can come up with?” he asked as he twisted the handle around as far as it could go. “Is that really the best you can do?” He grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled the knife out, tilting his head to avoid the exit spray. “Here’s a news flash for ya, buddy: that’s not good enough.” He moved the tip of the blade to the hollow of his double’s throat, pushing just enough to draw blood.
“You’re… not… killer… John.” The words were so quiet that for a moment, the soldier wondered if he’d heard them. He twisted his head around to see his Rodney staring blearily at him. “G-good man… not… not like… him…”
Sheppard looked back at his copy, surprised to see that the man was laughing. “What’s the joke, shit-head?” he snarled, tightening his grip on the knife.
“You,” the man replied, as his team-mate brought a rock down on the back of John’s skull. The Air Force man gave a soft sigh as he folded up.
The other McKay helped his team-mate up, hissing as he saw the damage to the man’s shoulder. “You okay?” he asked, motioning to the wound.
“I’m good, Rodney,” John’s copy replied. “Nothing a little Tylenol won’t fix.”
“C’mon, then,” Rodney’s counterpart said. “Let’s grab the Jumper and get off this shit-hole.”
But his friend was staring thoughtfully at the others. “Actually, I’ve got a better idea,” he said, turning to the scientist.
“Oh no,” the alternate McKay exclaimed. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I’m not your personal punch bag.”
“Do you really want to go to jail?” john’s double snarled. “It’ll work. I’ll even knock you out with some Morphine first if you’re that chicken.”
Other-Rodney considered for a moment before nodding. “Alright,” he agreed after a moment, “but what about these two?”
His friend grinned. “Leave ‘em here. They’ll never make it back to the Gate. And if we tell their friends how our ‘evil twins’ died in the fight, they won’t know any better, will they?”
“Good argument, clearly explained. So what’s first on your agenda?”
“I think the first play’s gonna be a broken bone or two,” the other Sheppard said, as he strode up to his team-mate, brandishing a stone.
Click here for Part 4.
