Storytime with Rachel F Hundred

Chapter 17

They exited the car. John fed the meter and they headed across to the coffee shop. Both of them blatantly checked out the immediate area; the Lucien Alliance would expect them to and, frankly, they’d be doing it whether there was a known threat or not. John spotted Kyle Baker leaning against a rental car further down the street, the open oversized map gave him cover as a tourist who’d stopped to figure out where he was or where he was going.

Mitchell led the way into the café. There were only a few tables left and they slipped into the nearest by the door. Mitchell took the chair facing the entrance and John took the chair to his right at the top of the table. It gave him a good view of the door and the rest of the coffee shop.

There was a woman reading a book, a cappuccino cup in front of her and a half-eaten pastry of some kind. John recognised her immediately as the Alliance spy Vanoit, the one who they’d planted in France. She was pretty; brunette, dark eyes, pouty lips. She reminded John a little of Nancy. He let his eyes linger as much as they ever did on an attractive woman before flicking a glance at the guy with the laptop – Bill Hargreaves. He noted the angle of the monitor and the cell phone sitting beside, calculating the shot he’d need to make to take out the technology and Bill himself.

There was a couple on a table in the far corner and John frowned. They looked like students; girlfriend and boyfriend of the hand holding and flirtatious smiles were anything to go by. John sighed. They couldn’t keep innocent members of the public away without it looking suspicious.

He pulled out the Sudoku book from his inner jacket pocket and a pen. Mitchell reached for the menu and pursed his lips at it as he considered what to order.

‘What can I get you?’ Sergeant Dusty Mehra appeared by the table as though by magic.

John schooled himself not to react to the sight of the NCO chewing bubble-gum and looking very much like a harried waitress and not the tough soldier he knew her to be. “Coffee. Black, please.”

“Yes, sir.” Dusty said automatically, scribbling it on the order pad she held.

‘I’ll have the same.’ Mitchell muttered, sliding back to fold his arms tight across his chest and stare unhappily at the entrance.

‘Sure thing.’ Dusty said. ‘Any cakes or pie?’

‘No, thanks.’ John smiled to soften the refusal. ‘Just the coffee for me.’

‘I’ll take a slice of the pecan.’ Mitchell said as though to make up for John’s lack of appetite.

Dusty nodded and moved away, back to the door that separated the kitchen from the front of house.

Mitchell gave a sigh and lowered his voice so it wouldn’t carry within the coffee shop. ‘I have a bad feeling about this.’

John lifted his eyebrows. ‘It’ll be fine.’ He didn’t want to give too much more of a pep talk while everybody else was listening in.

Mitchell nodded quickly, getting the message.

John raised the Sudoku book. ‘You want to help me with one of these while we wait?’

‘Oh no.’ Mitchell raised both his hands as though in surrender. ‘The last time I helped you, you argued with me.’

It was the wrong number.’ John countered, unconcerned at Rodney’s snort of amusement in his ear.

‘It was the first number.’ Mitchell said dryly.

John shifted on his chair. He didn’t want to reveal that he could do the puzzles in his head in about a minute but he’d spend the next five or ten minutes pretending to ponder and filling the boxes in with ink to be normal.

Luckily, Dusty returned with their drinks and Mitchell’s pie. She gave them a smile and hurried back to the waitress station on the other side of the coffee shop where Anne Teldy was already pretending to clean cutlery.

‘She’s late.’ Mitchell noted as he blew on the surface of the coffee. He tugged the plate with his pie on it closer to him.

John took a moment to inhale the scent before he took a sip. ‘I’m sure she’ll be here.’ He took another quick glance around the tables.

‘I’ll be glad to get back to our vacation.’ Mitchell forked up some pie.

John huffed in agreement. The days without flying had been torturous. It would be good to get in the air again.

‘You still OK on the next destination?’ Mitchell asked.

‘Fine with me.’ John said. They’d decided on the small Sheppard airfield an hour away from Colorado Springs. They’d spend the night at Mitchell’s house. They didn’t think anyone would expect them to return there although Sam had sounded smugly knowing when they’d informed her.

Mitchell stiffened and John’s eyes flitted through the window to the outside. A blonde woman hovered outside the entrance; John assumed she was Amy. There was a couple, another blonde haired woman John knew was Keene and a man who had to be Gus, just behind her.

They both got to their feet as Amy pushed open the door and walked towards their table. She paused by the side and smiled.

John could see why Mitchell had fallen for her; she was a pretty woman; a keen intelligence shone from her eyes, and her smile, while nervous, was warm and friendly. She wore a simple blue dress that accentuated her slim figure but was in no way revealing. On paper, she was exactly the type of woman he thought Mitchell would end up with.

‘Amy.’ Mitchell greeted with a tentative smile.

‘Cam.’ Amy’s smile brightened for a moment. ‘Thank you for seeing me.’ Her gaze slid to John.

‘This is John Sheppard.’ Mitchell introduced him awkwardly.

John held out his hand and wasn’t surprised at the firm but solid grip that Amy shook his hand with.

Her head tilted to the side although her hair remained held tightly by the clasp at the back at the nape of her neck. ‘Mitchell mentioned you’re another pilot?’

‘That’s right.’ John produced a charming smile and let his own eyes flicker behind her to her friends.

‘Oh, I’m sorry; let me introduce you.’ Amy motioned to the couple with an apologetic wince. ‘My friends Lucy and Gus.’

John shook hands again, wary that the couple might strike immediately since the Alliance had their main players all in place.

‘Cam.’ Lucy nodded toward Mitchell. ‘It’s good to see you again, despite the circumstances.’ She placed a hand on Amy’s shoulder in support.

John was impressed; he could almost believe she was genuinely concerned for her friend. He caught Mitchell’s eye. ‘I’ll just go over there and…’ he gestured with the Sudoku book.

‘Why don’t we sit together then,’ suggested Gus, ‘give these kids some space?’

John smiled thinly. He didn’t intend getting trapped at a table with them. ‘Thanks, but if it’s OK with you, I’ve been looking forward to doing these all morning so…’

Gus’s answering smile was completely false but he nodded. ‘Lucy and I will take another table and leave you to it.’

John slipped into a seat at the table next to Hargreaves, taking his coffee with him. He saw Dusty move in as Amy got seated and heard her order a latte. Gus and Lucy had taken the table next to Vanoit near to Mitchell and Teldy moved to take their order. He took a sip of his drink, opened his Sudoku book and tuned in to listen to Cam.

‘Thank you for meeting with me,’ Amy began hesitantly, ‘I wasn’t sure you would.’

‘I know my decision took you by surprise and I’m sorry about that.’ Mitchell said bluntly.

There was a pause as Dusty delivered the drink.

‘I need to know why.’ Amy said firmly.

‘They’re actually going to make him go through with having to talk with her before they make their move?’ Rodney noted over the open comms channel, horrified. ‘That’s so evil.’

John hid his smile by taking another gulp of his coffee. He spared a glance at Mitchell who shot him a look that said ‘I’m going to kill McKay and you’re not going to stop me.’

Mitchell turned back to Amy. ‘I’m not sure I know how to explain it.’ He shifted on the hard wooden seat and kept his attention on her. ‘Mostly, I realised that I felt trapped and…’ he sighed as he met her eyes, ‘and I knew that’s not the way you’re supposed to feel when you’re about to get married.’

‘Did I do something to make you feel that way?’ Amy’s fingers wrapped around her cup tightly.

John let his gaze drop to the Sudoku book before he took another glance around the coffee shop. Gus and Lucy looked deep in conversation; Vanoit hadn’t looked up from her book; Hargreaves looked like a businessman engaged in deep thought over an email. There was no sign that they were about to attack. John thought Rodney was right; they planned to humiliate Mitchell with forcing him to talk with Amy over the cancelled engagement and wedding before they attempted to take him. It was a good strategy; it would have Mitchell emotionally off his game.

He frowned into his Sudoku book and carefully completed one puzzle for the sake of appearances.

Across the shop, Mitchell cleared his throat. ‘It’s a cliché but this really is one time when it’s not you; it’s me.’

‘I just don’t understand,’ Amy pressed, ‘we were happy; I thought we were happy.’

‘I thought I was too until I realised I wasn’t.’ Mitchell murmured quietly.

John gave another surreptitious look around the tables. The Alliance operatives remained completely still as though they had no intention of moving. Maybe he should give the order for their people to move, John thought idly; just spring the trap and grab the Alliance operatives; save Mitchell from having to reveal the truth about his personal relationship to his team, to John’s team, and the Atlantis Marines in the kitchen.

‘Amy, why did you ask me to marry you?’ Mitchell’s question almost made John start and he threw a look over to the table to find Mitchell looking at Amy intently.

Of course, John determined; Mitchell was trying to ascertain whether Amy was an innocent in the plot to kidnap him. He’d hold off on the order and allow his friend the leeway.

‘Why did I…’ Amy frowned at Mitchell. ‘Why ask me that now?’

‘Please, Amy.’ Mitchell implored her. ‘I need to know. Why did you ask me?’

‘It just…it felt like the right time.’ Amy said defensively, leaning back and folding her arms across her chest. ‘We’d been dating for a while.’ She paused. ‘I knew I loved you and I believed you loved me.’

John could see Mitchell flinch at the accusation from where he was sitting. It was a good volley.

‘So why not wait for me to propose?’ Mitchell asked, firing right back.

‘Seriously?’ Amy said sharply. ‘Is that what this was about? You wanted to be the one to ask?’

‘Yes. No.’ Mitchell sighed heavily. ‘It’s…I’ve just been thinking about it, and you never indicated you wanted me to propose. No hints, no discussion about kids or the future.’ He splayed his hands wide. ‘You took me by surprise.’

Amy leaned forward again. ‘Cam, I guess I thought we’d already talked about the future right at the beginning when you were recovering from your injuries at your folks’ house. You talked about getting a less dangerous assignment especially if you’d had that surgery the doctors recommended. You talked about settling down and having kids. I thought we were on the same page that it was something we both wanted.’

John kept his gaze on his Sudoku book because he was too tempted to send Mitchell a look of compassionate support that would give away that he’d overheard what Amy had said.

‘I was waiting for you to propose,’ Amy admitted, ‘and I was talking it over with Lucy when she pointed out that women could propose too and…’ she sighed. ‘You could have said no.’

So, it had been Lucy who’d made the suggestion for Amy to propose, John pursed his lips as he slid a look to Lucy’s table. She and Gus had seemingly fallen quiet.

‘I know.’ Mitchell murmured. ‘But you’re right even if we hadn’t talked about it right before you proposed I knew it was where we were heading.’

‘I’m confused.’ Amy said after a long pause. ‘You didn’t want me to propose; you say that you were surprised because we hadn’t talked specifically about it in the days before I did, but you admit it was something that was on the cards?’

Mitchell blew out a long breath. ‘I was confused too. I think that was part of the problem.’ He leaned back and picked up a coaster playing with it absently. ‘Why did you suggest getting married this past month? I always wondered why you chose these dates.’

Vanoit’s tea cup crashed back into its saucer. John’s eyes flickered over to her. So they were all listening in and Mitchell’s question had just alerted them that Mitchell might have worked out Amy could be involved.

Amy looked bemused, not guilty though. ‘It was timing, you know that. I had that big commission Lucy helped me get and the end date of that was a couple of weeks before our…our wedding date.’

Another Lucy influence established, John thought; maybe Amy had only been manipulated. The scrape of chairs against the floor had him looking up swiftly, just in time to see the young couple exit, payment and tip left behind on the table.

Hargreaves’s cell phone vibrated against the wooden table and John knew it was their signal to move.

‘We’re trying to trace the call.’ Rodney confirmed in his head.

John tapped his earpiece surreptitiously. It was their own signal to get ready.

The call on Hargreaves’s side was terse and gave nothing away. John didn’t bother listening to it. He was readying himself; as soon as it was over, he would give the order to move in on them. He trusted Teal’c and Ronon would take care of Kyle outside; Teldy and Dusty were on Vanoit, Gus and Lucy; he had Hargreaves and Mitchell would take care of Amy. Regardless of what they’d learned, John knew they couldn’t know for certain Amy’s involvement until Lam ruled out brainwashing and Goa’uld infestation.

Hargreaves’s call ended. He put down the phone and his hand shifted over his laptop.

‘Now!’ ordered John decisively, pulling his weapon and firing on the computer at the same time.

The effect was immediate.

All pretence was dropped by the Alliance operatives as John moved in to subdue Hargreaves. He ducked the phone the other man threw at him and the punch; he neatly turned aside and delivered his own punch to Hargreaves’s jaw. Hargreaves staggered back briefly but charged at him.

John saw Dusty exchanging some complicated martial arts moves with Vanoit before Hargreaves’s tackle took him backwards to the floor; Teldy was struggling with Lucy; Gus had gone for Mitchell and they were wrestling by Mitchell’s table, leaving Amy crouched under the table and looking bewildered.

He dragged his attention back to his own fight even as he heard the storm of footsteps from the kitchen coming to help them. He kneed Hargreaves in the groin; slammed the heel of his hand into the other man’s nose breaking it with a substantial crack and threw him off him. He got up swiftly and hit Hargreaves over the back of the head with the butt of his gun. Hargreaves went down.

There was a startled cry behind him and John turned, aiming his gun, to see Lucy grabbing Amy by the arm, using her as a shield, a knife held at Amy’s throat warningly. John searched immediately for Teldy; she was down, blood seeping from a wound on her back.

Lucy’s attention was on Mitchell who had knocked out Gus.

‘Don’t come after us!’ Lucy warned. She was out of the entrance before any of them could move.

John intercepted Mitchell at the door. He firmly planted his free hand in the other man’s chest and pushed him back. ‘Stay here; take care of Teldy. I’ll get Amy back.’

Mitchell’s blue eyes flashed with anger, hands balling into fists beside him, but he nodded. John didn’t bother wasting any more time arguing. He flung himself out of the coffee shop and into the street.

He could see Lucy dragging Amy towards a car. Teal’c, Ronon and Kyle were involved in a three-way fight by Kyle’s car.

‘Keene!’ John whirled around, aiming his gun and Lucy froze for a second.

But only a second.

In the next, she was yanking Amy along with her, down the street towards an alleyway. John swore under his breath and raced after her. He slowed as he got to the narrow entrance of the alleyway. He could see it was a dead-end; a high brick wall on the far end cast a long shadow. Lucy stumbled to a halt in front of it, hauling Amy back in front of her, continuing to use her as a shield and a piece of leverage.

John walked in slowly, his gun held firmly in both hands. ‘Let her go, Keene. It’s over.’

‘I don’t think so!’ Lucy snarled. Despite the jeans and prissy lavender blouse, she moved with the lithe deftness of a soldier. John was reminded of Teyla rather than the suburban girlfriend that Lucy had played in the coffee shop during their introduction.

‘Lucy, what’s going on?’ Amy gasped.

‘Shut up!’

‘Amy,’ John drew her attention, ‘just stay calm; this will all be over soon.’

‘It’ll be over as soon as you let me leave with her.’ Lucy’s eyes darted around the alleyway, looking for a way out.

‘So you can take her and continue to use her as a pawn to get to Mitchell again? That’s not going to happen.’ John said firmly.

‘Use me?’ Amy twisted her head and stared at Lucy. ‘What’s he talking about and what are you doing? Why are you acting this way?’

‘Please.’ Lucy sneered. ‘You really think I’d want to be friends with you?’

Amy’s mouth dropped open.

‘I only befriended you to get close to Mitchell.’ Lucy stated cruelly. ‘And God knows I can’t blame him for backing out of your wedding. You’re so insipid. Why would he want to marry you?’

John wondered whether he should interrupt the incipient cat fight but he held his tongue. If Amy could distract Lucy, she might lower the knife an inch and then John could shoot Lucy cleanly…

Amy’s mouth gaped open again before it snapped shut. ‘You know nothing about my relationship with Cam!’

‘Of course I know!’ Lucy snarled right back. ‘We’ve done nothing but talk about it endlessly. What a good lover he is! What a good man! How he’d be a wonderful father and a wonderful husband! Whether you please him in bed, out of bed! God, you’re so boring!’

‘I’m boring?’ Amy struggled in Lucy’s hold. ‘Well, you don’t know everything about me!’ She sagged suddenly and at the same time drove her elbow hard into Lucy’s sternum.

Lucy jolted back and Amy yanked herself forward.

John couldn’t get a clear shot as Amy ran toward him, obscuring Lucy but he could see Lucy react, raising the knife to aim at her. John lowered his gun and sprinted, closing the gap as Lucy launched the knife…

A sizzling bolt of red shot from the top of the wall and impacted Lucy as she threw; she collapsed on the ground, stunned.

The knife sailed past John’s head as he took down Amy with a desperate tackle. John felt the shock of the fall jar his body; the ground impacting his elbow, knee and hip as he landed on the rough concrete.

Amy gave a cry but she gripped him tightly.

He took a moment to recover his breath and checked Lucy was down. She remained crumpled in a heap on the ground. He raised his gaze and found Ronon on top of the wall, twirling his stunner with a confident swagger.

Ronon jumped down. ‘You OK?’

John ignored his injuries as he got to his feet and helped Amy to hers. He debated whether to treat Amy as a potential spy; they hadn’t ruled out her involvement although her conversations with Mitchell and Lucy had gone a long way to alleviating suspicion that she knew or was a willing participant under their brainwashing. He secured his weapon. ‘Amy?’

‘I’m fine.’ She raised her scraped hand and gave a brave smile. ‘Nothing a little disinfectant and a band aid won’t cure anyway.’

John noted a thin cut on her neck from where the knife had caught her when she’d pulled away. She was also trembling he realised. Shock. He smiled reassuringly at her. ‘We should get you to a medic.’ He turned back to Ronon.

‘I’ll take care of this.’ Ronon pointed down to Lucy with his weapon.

John nodded as Teal’c arrived in the alleyway. ‘Thanks.’ He waved at the Jaffa and placed his hand under Amy’s elbow, ushering her back out of the alleyway. He made back to the café, ignoring the police cars that had arrived and cordoned off the area in line with their plan. They were barely at the door of the coffee shop when it opened and Mitchell hurried out.

Amy immediately pulled away from John and Mitchell stepped forward to tug her into an embrace.

‘Are you OK?’ Mitchell hugged her tightly for a long moment before he eased back, scanned her and grimaced. One hand rose to gently touch the cut on her neck. ‘You’re hurt.’

‘I’m fine. Your friend saved my life.’ Amy gestured back at John.

Mitchell threw him a grateful look.

‘She did a good job of saving herself.’ John replied easily. ‘She needs to get checked out.’ There was a warning in his words and he knew it struck home as Mitchell gave a terse nod before escorting her away to the waiting ambulance.

John watched him and sighed. He couldn’t blame Mitchell for not keeping his distance especially when the evidence all seemed to point to Amy’s innocence in what had happened. He wasn’t sure he could have been objective if it had been Nancy, even after all the years they’d been apart. He shook himself and went to find Rodney.

Chapter 18

Cam tried not to pace Amy’s small den but it was hard to keep still. He glanced again at the clock. How long did it take to perform a za’tarc test anyway? He sighed and sat down on the leather sofa. He hunched over and pinched the bridge of his nose; there was a headache building behind his eyes.

It had taken all of his self-restraint and all of his patience to let John be the one to go after Lucy when she’d had Amy. But he’d remembered his conversation with Daniel and trusted John would bring Amy back – and John had. She’d been bruised; her knee and hand scraped from hitting hard concrete but she’d otherwise been unharmed bar the shock of Lucy’s betrayal.

It hadn’t taken one of Carolyn’s people long at the scene to confirm that Amy wasn’t a Goa’uld with the aid of advanced scanning technology. John had acquiesced to Cam escorting Amy home under the watchful eye of a team of Marines and Daniel so the za’tarc test could be administered. Paul Davis and a Tok’ra had arrived shortly after they had, and disappeared up the stairs with Amy. Cam had been shuttled into the den to wait.

He looked up hopefully at the sound of footsteps coming toward the door but it was only Daniel. His friend handed him a mug of coffee and took a seat beside him.

‘You OK?’ Daniel asked softly.

Cam glanced down at his bruised knuckles and shrugged. ‘I’m fine.’

‘That wasn’t what I was referring to.’ Daniel’s raised eyebrow was a good imitation of Teal’c’s.

‘Just…worried.’ Cam shook his head as he blew on the hot coffee. ‘Amy didn’t deserve to get caught up in all of this.’

Daniel nodded. ‘It’s not your fault.’

Cam knew that but it didn’t make him feel better. ‘I just hope…’ he couldn’t finish the sentence; that he hoped it had been Lucy manipulating Amy rather than brainwashing. He took another scalding sip of coffee. ‘Did you speak to Teal’c?’

‘Yeah,’ Daniel wrapped his hands around his mug, ‘Anne’s out of surgery and doing well.’ He frowned at Cam. ‘The other Alliance operatives have all been transferred to the SGC for questioning about Lovell and the seventh member of the group. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get them all.’

‘You think I’m still in danger.’ Cam surmised, leaning back and regarding Daniel fondly.

‘I do.’ Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘They’ve gone to too much trouble to give up just because the majority of the cell is in a, well, cell.’ His nose wrinkled.

Cam smiled back at Daniel. ‘I only need to get through the next week or so.’ He shrugged. ‘I think we’ve damaged them enough that they’re not going to be able to make another attempt that quickly.’

‘You should still be careful when you and Sheppard start your vacation again.’ Daniel cautioned, sinking back into the comfortable cushions.

‘Yes, Mom.’ Cam said dutifully.

Daniel shot him a look. ‘I’m beginning to think Sheppard must have the patience of a saint.’

‘I would have thought his working with McKay would have been your first clue there.’ Cam pointed out dryly.

Daniel snickered and took a gulp of his coffee. ‘McKay’s already gone back. Sheppard should be on his way here soon with Ronon.’

Cam nodded. He was half-way looking towards the clock again when the door opened and Davis stepped in.

‘Colonel.’ Davis said politely.

‘Major.’ Mitchell acknowledged him with a friendly smile as he stood up. ‘How did it go?’

Daniel placed a hand on Cam’s shoulder in support; Cam leaned into it gratefully.

‘She passed the test.’ Davis stated briskly. ‘There’s no sign of deception or false memories that we can detect.’

‘So what now?’ Cam asked.

‘I’ve spoken with Colonel Carter and recommended that Ms Vandenberg remain in her residence with continued protection for the next two weeks.’ Davis informed him. ‘The Colonel and Ms Vandenberg have agreed to that.’

‘Good.’ Cam let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He knew Teal’c would stay and provide the protection if Cam asked and probably Ronon too. He owed Ronon a thank you for saving Amy.

‘She wants to see you.’ Davis said.

Cam nodded. ‘I’ll take her up some tea.’ He left the room before Davis or Daniel could say anything more. He made his way into the sunny kitchen and tried to use the time it took to make the tea to collect his thoughts.

He knew it wasn’t going to be the easiest conversation. He’d thought he’d been nervous about having their meeting overheard by everyone but there had been security, Cam realised, in knowing that he had an excuse to avoid answering. He didn’t have that anymore and he owed Amy honesty especially after what she had been through. He picked up the tea and took a deep breath.

He knew the way to Amy’s bedroom as well as he knew the way to his own; the number of steps down the hall, up the stairs, along the landing with its calming pale green walls and dark hardwood floor. He tapped softly on her door and entered at her call.

Amy sat at her vanity table, staring into the mirror as though she could find answers there. She’d showered; her hair hung loose and wet around her shoulders; her face was bare of make-up. She’d changed into jeans and an old sweatshirt, and looked young and vulnerable.

Cam felt his chest tighten with unexpected emotion. He closed the door behind him and walked over to place the tea on the table.

Amy thanked him gently and motioned for him to sit on the end of the bed facing her. ‘I passed your tests.’

Cam ignored the accusatory ‘your’ as he cleared his throat to reply. ‘I know.’

‘You owe me an explanation.’ She said fingering the delicate china of the mug he’d picked out for her.

‘I know that too.’ Cam leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together. ‘I don’t know where to start.’

Amy remained silent.

Her self-possession was one of the reasons he had been attracted to her, Cam mused wryly. ‘After I called off the wedding, I decided to go on a flying holiday; cross-country in a single engine Cessna with a friend along as company.’

‘John Sheppard.’ Amy supplied.

Cam nodded. ‘Anyway, our first stop, we got approached by a NID intelligence analyst who’d seen some chatter that concerned him. We took him seriously and worked out the Lucien Alliance was after me.’

‘Like at the reunion?’ asked Amy, finally picking up the tea and drinking it. Her expression softened when she realised he’d made it exactly the way she liked it.

‘Mostly they want to take me alive so they can use me for…well, what doesn’t matter, but to use me.’ Cam sighed. ‘We think they originally planned to take me captive on our honeymoon, probably using your life as leverage to get me to do what they wanted.’

‘Our honeymoon.’ Amy flinched and the tea-cup went back into the saucer with a clatter. She folded her arms around herself. ‘That’s probably why Lucy encouraged me to go to Paris. Only her name isn’t Lucy is it?’

‘Probably not.’ Cam agreed calmly.

‘She befriended me to get to you.’ Amy continued. Her eyes caught his. ‘Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?’

‘I’m sorry.’ Cam said the only thing he could think would help. ‘I know that’s not enough but…’

‘No, no, that’s not what I meant.’ Amy crossed over the room quickly and put her hand on his arm tentatively. ‘This isn’t your fault, Cam. Just like it wasn’t your fault at the reunion and I knew when I started seeing you that with the work that you do, something similar could happen.’ She bit her lip. ‘I never imagined Lucy…I feel so stupid for not seeing it.’

‘She had me fooled too.’ Cam picked up the hand on his arm and held it firmly.

‘I feel like I let you down.’ Amy said. ‘I look back at the last year and…’ she shuddered, ‘I can see all the ways she manipulated me and talked me into things.’ She looked down at their hands, and her thumb stroked over his. ‘I told you the truth; I did propose because I thought we were on that path but…thinking about it, I would never have asked if Lucy hadn’t pushed me into it.’ Her eyes flew back to his. ‘You would never have asked me, would you?’

Cam wanted to shift away from her shrewd gaze but he owed her the truth. ‘No, not then.’

‘And maybe not ever although we’ll never know.’ Amy completed with a sigh.

He winced. ‘It was just…I was comfortable with the way we were.’

‘I wondered what was going on in your head; that’s why I talked with Lucy in the first place.’ Amy said. ‘When we first started dating you talked about wanting marriage and kids so I just assumed it was what you wanted with me, and when a year had gone by and you hadn’t asked me…’ she frowned, ‘it’s not like we’re getting any younger, Cam.’

Cam frowned as he tried to remember when he had talked about marriage and kids – and suddenly remembered with a flinch. It had been during his recovery after getting beaten up by the replicators on the Odyssey. He’d been so battered physically and he’d been uncertain after the discussions with Carolyn and the specialists brought in to re-examine his old spinal and leg injuries whether he would make it back to full fitness for field duty. He’d allowed himself to consider giving up; settling down…clipping his wings.

‘I thought one day you’d have the surgery the doctors wanted you to have and you’d take a desk job and…’ Amy sighed. ‘But you never really intended that, did you?’

Cam shook his head. ‘I love my job. I love leading SG1, Amy. I don’t want to give that up.’

‘But you’re going to have to give it up one day.’ Amy pointed out softly. ‘You told me the doctors said you couldn’t put the surgery off indefinitely.’

The words hit him hard and for a second he lost his breath. He had told her that, Cam remembered dimly. He’d confided it one day when they’d taken a walk and he’d had to sit down to rest because his leg had cramped so badly and…

He sighed. He was fine. His fears had been just that fears; he’d regained his physical health and – OK, yes, he was feeling the aches and pains a lot more than he had when he’d first been made SG1 leader but it was part of the job. He ignored the small voice in the back of his head reminding him that Carolyn had raised the topic of the surgery again in his last physical.

‘Did you think that I would push you to have the surgery if we got married?’ Amy asked, breaking into his thoughts.

‘Maybe.’ Cam murmured with a lift of his shoulders. ‘Mostly, I think I thought getting married meant I should get the surgery; should settle down and take a desk job.’

It meant changing his life; leaving SG1; giving up.

And he wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t.

‘The reason I cancelled the wedding was really because I felt trapped, Amy.’ Cam explained. ‘And yes, the idea that I should make a decision about the surgery if I was getting married was part of a bigger idea that I should make a decision about settling down if I was getting married.’

‘I wouldn’t have pushed you.’ Amy declared defensively.

‘Why not?’ Cam asked bluntly, turning to look at her fully. ‘That’s one of the things I couldn’t figure, Amy; if marriage and kids was what you wanted, why weren’t you pushing me to get out of the field?’

Amy opened her mouth and snapped it shut again. A contemplative look settled over her attractive features. ‘Good question.’ The fingers of her free hand, the one wrapped in a bandage, tapped out a discordant rhythm on the grey sweatpants. ‘I think,’ she said eventually, ‘that, deep down, I knew it wasn’t what you wanted. That I’d pushed you once with asking you to marry me and if I pushed you again…’ She shrugged and sighed. ‘You’d do what you did and cancel the whole thing.’

‘I’m really very sorry.’ Cam said.

‘No, you’re not.’ Amy contradicted and pulled out of his hold gently. She moved away, pacing across the room. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had doubts?’

Cam considered his words as he dragged a hand through his hair. ‘I didn’t know how.’ He said finally. ‘At first, I convinced myself that I was simply surprised because you’d been the one to propose and…’

‘And you’re a traditional man.’ Amy wrapped her arms around her middle.

‘And then by the time I realised it wasn’t just surprise…I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.’ Cam sighed. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you…’

‘So you thought it was best leaving it until the last minute before telling me that you didn’t want to marry me?’ Amy snapped back sharply. ‘Cam, if you’d left it any later, you would have left me at the altar. As it was, you only gave me five days to cancel everything.’ She sighed. ‘I guess I should have known when you insisted that you’d fly out alone and your team would come the day of the wedding.’

Cam flushed, the hot blush rushing over his cheeks and neck. ‘I know there’s no way that I can apologise for not being honest with you as soon as I knew I was having doubts.’

Amy wrenched her gaze away from his. She meandered back to the chair in front of the vanity table and sat down again. ‘Did you ever love me?’

Cam reached over and took her head in his. ‘I do love you, Amy. I just…’

‘Don’t love me enough to marry me.’ Amy tangled their fingers together even as he dropped his gaze, ashamed at her accuracy. ‘You know I think on some level I knew.’

‘Daniel thinks on some level I knew the Alliance was trying to trap me.’ Cam murmured. ‘He thinks that’s why I felt trapped.’

Amy stared at him.

‘What?’ asked Cam, taken aback by her frown.

‘Did you talk to Daniel about us?’ Amy asked.

Cam shook his head. ‘Not until after. I didn’t talk to anyone until…I unloaded on Sheppard.’

‘I didn’t realise he was that good a friend.’ Amy said.

‘We’re not,’ Cam admitted with a rueful smile, ‘but he put up with me unloading on him anyway. John’s a good man.’

‘He saved my life.’ Amy agreed. ‘Him and the guy who shot Lucy.’

‘Stunned.’ Cam corrected. ‘Ronon’s weapon stuns people.’

‘Like Star Trek?’ Amy’s eyebrows rose. ‘Stunning wasn’t good enough for her.’ She grimaced; her cheeks pale. ‘When I think of how much I confided in her…how much she influenced me.’

‘She won’t be bothering you again.’ Cam promised.

Amy nodded briskly. Her eyes lifted back to his, concerned. ‘What about you? Are you going to be safe now? The Major said there was still a risk for the next two weeks.’

‘I’ll be OK.’ Cam assured her. ‘We took out most of the cell today and I’m on leave so they can’t get to me easily.’

‘And you’ll have Sheppard protecting you.’ Amy said but the worried look didn’t go away.

Cam smiled though to reassure her. ‘He’s good company.’

‘Flying cross-country.’ Amy sighed but she finally smiled; a small quirk of her lips but it was there. ‘You must be in heaven.’

‘I needed to get my head straight.’ Cam prevaricated. ‘Speaking of which, I should probably head downstairs and see where John’s at.’

Amy nodded.

They got to their feet and Cam pulled her into his arms for an awkward hug.

‘I’m so glad you’re OK.’ Cam whispered in her ear.

Amy hugged back tightly. ‘Just…just take care of yourself.’ She pulled back and ducked her head to hide her tears. ‘Friends?’

‘Friends.’ Cam confirmed, brushing a thumb over her cheek. ‘I wish…’

‘Don’t.’ Amy placed her hand over his and held his eyes so he could see her sincerity.

‘You’re too good for me anyway.’ Cam said, attempting another smile but it fell away before it took.

‘Call me when you get to wherever it is you’re going next?’ Amy asked cautiously. ‘I’ll worry otherwise and…’

‘I’ll call you when I get to my place.’ Cam agreed. He hugged her again gently and kissed her temple. ‘You’ll have people here watching over you but if you need me…’

‘I’ll call.’ Amy promised.

Cam let go of her and left the bedroom. All in all, he considered dryly, the talk could have gone worse. He rubbed his right hip absently as he made his way down the stairs. There were voices coming from the open door to the den.

He recognised John’s and hurried inside. He took in the four men in one sweep; Daniel sat on the sofa where he had been sat when Cam had left; Teal’c stood in front of it and Ronon lounged against a wall near Teal’c. John sat on the other armchair but got to his feet as soon as Cam entered.

‘Hey.’ John nodded to him. His hazel eyes ran over Cam as though assessing injuries. ‘OK?’

Cam gave a brief nod.

‘How’s Amy?’ Daniel asked.

‘Good. Shook up a little.’ Cam said succinctly. ‘Everything cleaned up at the coffee shop?’

‘We’re done.’ John said. ‘The Alliance operatives are all at the SGC in cells. So far they haven’t talked.’

‘That will change.’ Teal’c said firmly. His dark eyes glittered.

Ronon smirked.

Cam exchanged an amused look with Daniel and John.

‘Teldy’s awake.’ John continued. ‘She apologised for Keene getting the drop on her and grabbing Amy. I told her she has lessons with Teyla to look forward to in her future.’

Cam’s lips twitched. ‘It wasn’t her fault.’

‘Yes, it was.’ Ronon said implacably.

Cam opened his mouth to protest again but John gave a small shake of his head.

‘Rodney’s going over the laptop I shot.’ John said dryly. ‘He thinks he can rescue the data.’ He nodded toward Daniel. ‘He might need your help with that. His Goa’uld is rusty.’

Daniel stood up. ‘I’ll beam straight to Atlantis then.’

‘The SGC.’ John grinned as Daniel’s face fell. ‘Sam had him diverted.’

‘Any news on where Lovell and the seventh member are?’ Cam questioned. It made sense to tie up the loose ends.

‘Southern hemisphere.’ John said. ‘Other than that?’ He shrugged. ‘We still need to track Lovell down too.’

‘She’s probably gone to ground.’ Daniel murmured.

‘Ronon and I will remain with Amy Vandenbeg.’ Teal’c informed Cam.

Cam nodded. ‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’ He turned to Ronon. ‘And thanks for saving her today.’

Ronon shrugged away his gratitude. ‘She made it easy for me to take the shot.’

John tilted his head toward the door. ‘If you’re ready, we should head out.’

Cam caught the weariness present in the lines on John’s face and agreed. It was time to get back to their leave. There was a succession of goodbyes and Cam felt drained, quietly reassuring Teal’c and Daniel that he was fine before he followed John out of the door and into the rental car.

They made the journey to the airfield in silence and only exchanged necessary information as they changed in the lockers into fresh jeans and t-shirt before they started the mechanical check. It was a companionable silence. Cam watched as John’s tension drained away with each passing minute and he could feel his own muscles loosening under the lack of pressure to talk; to do anything but focus on the plane.

It was good that he’d talked with Amy, Cam mused; he opened a bottle of water and swallowed half of it down. Confessing the whole truth to Amy about his feelings on their relationship had settled something inside of him. He’d made a mistake and she had deserved better treatment but they seemed to have left each other in a good place at the end of their talk; friends.

He’d take friendship.

His mind drifted over the discussion again and careened away as it registered why she’d thought he’d want to get married and have kids; the pain and physical condition he’d been in when he’d babbled at her during his recovery; when he’d been desperately trying to put a good spin on a life he could lead if he wasn’t the SG1 leader, if he couldn’t physically keep up.

It was getting harder, Cam silently admitted to himself as they finally took their places in the cockpit and taxied out to the runway and finally took to the air.

He sometimes wondered that O’Neill had managed to continue in the field as long as he had but then he reminded himself, O’Neill hadn’t smashed a 302 into an ice field and damaged his body almost beyond repair. He hadn’t had to learn to walk again; to strengthen his spine with metal and pins; with multiple surgeries and…

He cut that thought off as he felt his muscles start to tense again. He shifted restlessly.

‘You want to fly?’ asked John.

‘You won the bet.’ Cam reminded him with an easy grin. ‘I’m fine.’ And he was because John needed to fly to completely relax; to lose the look of a man burdened with too much responsibility – and Cam could wait since it was his fault John had been pushed back into service on his vacation. ‘Besides, it’s only a short flight,’ he added, ‘and I want the majority of the flight tomorrow.’

‘You have to win first.’ John smirked.

‘And I will,’ promised Cam lightly, ‘as soon as I think up another story that is good enough that you won’t trump it.’

John harrumphed quietly and turned his attention back to the sky with a small smile on his face.

Cam let himself enjoy the flight; the faint vibration of the engine through the plane, the sounds of the wind and creak of the plane, the miniscule movements that John made to correct the altitude and the wing balance as they kept on course. They swapped when they were almost there to give John a break and allow Cam his reduced flight time but Cam handed the stick back as they approached and requested permission to land at the private airfield.

The lights of the single runaway formed reassuringly ahead of them and Cam held his breath minutely as John brought the plane down, landing with a skill that made Cam envious even as he watched John’s technique and determined it was eighty per cent skill and twenty per cent sheer instinct.

Cam stretched as John taxied towards the waiting open hangar, a pool of light spilling out onto the tarmac showing the way. It was late but not too late, Cam thought idly as his eyes took in the two mechanics in Sheppard International uniforms waving them forward; the hangar door closing behind them. They’d get the rental and drive to Cam’s; maybe they could pick-up a pizza on the way or Thai, he was in the mood for something spicy and…

A sudden movement to the left caught Cam’s eye – the glint of light hitting the barrel of a gun. He was reaching for his before he could register they were under attack.

The hard rattle of gunfire pounded against the side of the plane…the mechanics pulled weapons on them in front and Cam yanked John down as bullets cracked the windshield.

John hit his earpiece. ‘Odyssey, this is Sheppard requesting emergency immediate beam-out!’

The white light surrounded them; the lurch of disorientation made Cam’s stomach churn as the light faded leaving them standing upright.

It only took a moment to realise it wasn’t the Odyssey before the woman in front of the pack of Alliance guards smiled with smug satisfaction.

‘What the hell…’ Cam muttered in bewilderment. He made to shoot but even as he brought his weapon to bear, he saw the arcing bolts of blue zat fire heading towards them…

The pain snapped through his body without mercy and Cam felt himself falling before the blessed relief of darkness took him.

Chapter 19

Sam tried not to laugh at the faintly disgusted look on Jack’s face as he watched Rodney and Daniel bickering over the computer in the corner of Daniel’s office. Sam looked around briefly taking in the homey clutter of ancient objects and breathed in the scent of dust and parchment; ink and age.

Jack sat on a stool watching the two men; his arms were crossed over his green BDU shirt. She nudged his elbow with hers as she slid onto the stool beside him.

His dark eyes met hers and warmed affectionately; his whole body loosening almost imperceptibly with her presence. ‘You OK, Carter?’

‘I’ll be glad when General Landry’s back and I can fully concentrate on the Hammond.’ Sam admitted with a tired sigh.

Jack’s gaze flickered back meaningfully towards Daniel and Rodney. ‘I can’t say I blame you.’

‘How’re they doing?’ Sam asked quietly.

‘I think Daniel’s winning the argument but as I have no idea what they’re arguing about…’ he gave a shrug. ‘Why did I have to be here for this again?’

‘You wanted to find out the intelligence on the Lucien Alliance as soon as Daniel and Rodney got the contents of the laptop recovered.’ Sam reminded him.

‘Right.’ Jack’s head tilted towards her; his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Any sign of the five we have in custody cracking?’

‘Davis and Reynolds are still in with them.’ Sam reported crisply. ‘Nothing yet though.’ She chewed her lip thoughtfully. ‘They’re all too calm given the situation.’ She sighed. ‘I think I might ask Teal’c to come back for an hour; see if he can get anything out of them.’

‘I could have a go.’ Jack offered casually.

Sam shook her head, smiling. ‘I don’t want to give them the impression that they’re that important that they merit the Head of Homeworld Security.’

Jack huffed but she could see the gleam of approval in his eyes.

Sam turned her thoughts back to the issue at hand. By all accounts, bar Anne Teldy’s injury, the trap had been a success, but Sam wondered if it would be enough to put off another attack, and she couldn’t help the feeling that they were missing something. They were still trying to trace the missing members of the cell including the seventh mysterious unidentified member who was somewhere on a boat in the Southern hemisphere. They hadn’t gotten anything out of the operatives and their only other sources of information were the cell phone and the shot up laptop that the tech guy had been using at the coffee shop. At least, John and Cam were planning to take the precautions they had previously, using the earpieces and changing their destinations regularly.

She tuned into Daniel and Rodney’s stream of chatter. Rodney had managed to get through the encryption on the hard drive – that was good – and they were arguing about the contents of the folders – or lack of content.

‘Daniel, Rodney,’ Sam raised her voice so it would carry across the room, ‘what do you mean there’s nothing in the folders?’

‘Exactly that!’ Rodney turned to her without missing a beat, his finger pointing back at the computer. ‘There’s no data. The laptop is clean.’

‘Deleted?’ Sam asked, frowning.

‘No; clean.’ Rodney emphasised waving a hand at it. ‘There’s nothing on it.’

‘Maybe it’s encrypted.’ Daniel offered again, sitting down.

Rodney glared at him. ‘I got through the encryption. There’s nothing there apart from the jamming program.’

‘If you’d gotten through the encryption, there’d be something.’ Daniel huffed out, folding his arms over his chest as his blue eyes glinted mutinously behind the panes of glass.

‘It’s clean! That’s why there’s nothing there! How many times do I have to say it!’ Rodney snapped, his cheeks flushing red with frustration.

‘We should get some popcorn.’ Jack murmured in Sam’s ear.

She struggled not to smile but she knew if she did, Rodney would think she was laughing at him. She stood up instead. ‘Daniel,’ she began, ‘if Rodney says he got through the encryption, he got through the encryption.’

‘Thank you!’ Rodney stated loudly, sending a smug look in Daniel’s direction.

‘So, we have a clean laptop set up only with the jamming program.’ Sam stated, turning it over in her mind. Her eyes met Daniel’s across the room as they both came to the same conclusion.

‘Of course…’ Daniel began excitedly.

‘It makes sense.’ Sam agreed, moving over to stand beside them.

‘What?’ Rodney asked, his gaze darting to Daniel then to Sam and back again.

‘But if that’s true…’ Sam murmured, ignoring Rodney’s rolling eyes.

‘Then we have to assume…’ Daniel continued as Rodney slumped against the computer table with a muttered ‘why me.’

‘Hey!’ Jack yelled, grabbing all of their attention. He leaned forward. ‘Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?’

Sam blushed as she realised she’d ignored him. ‘There’s only one reason why they’d use a clean computer…’

‘Clean meaning they sent it out to the dry cleaners?’ Jack interrupted without apology.

Rodney straightened. ‘Clean as in the laptop was brand new.’ He explained. ‘The operating system was installed today.’ He suddenly frowned at the monitor and began typing rapidly on the keyboard.

‘OK,’ Jack said slowly, ‘so they brought along a clean laptop which means…’

‘That they knew there was the possibility that they could get captured and planned for it,’ Daniel finished, ‘which means it’s very likely that they must have had a back-up plan for taking Mitchell in the event that we took down this group.’

‘They must have another cell.’ Sam suggested. ‘One that Lovell didn’t know about.’

‘Well, tactically that makes sense.’ Jack agreed, leaning forward over the bench. He raised a scarred eyebrow. ‘If Lovell was the handler for this cell, that leaves the seventh member we can’t find as the big enchilada.’

Daniel winced but nodded. ‘Who probably has another team waiting in the wings ready to deploy.’

‘But if we find him,’ Jack waved a hand at Sam’s hard look, ‘or her,’ he allowed, ‘then we could take down the whole operation.’

‘I’ll check on the satellite trace. Daniel, can you inform John and Cam because they need to know…’ Sam said, beginning to move back to the door.

‘Wait!’ Rodney ordered. ‘I’ve found something.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘The jamming program isn’t a jamming program.’ He paused. ‘Well, it is a jamming program but that’s not the interesting thing.’

They all looked at him expectantly.

‘Rodney?’ Sam prompted; annoyance surging through her.

‘Right.’ Rodney moistened his lips and gestured at the computer. ‘There’s an uplink instruction to the Odyssey’s beaming program embedded in the code but not activated.’

Sam’s eyes snapped to his. ‘The Odyssey.’

‘Yes.’ Rodney looked over at her with tired eyes. ‘Reading this, I think the call must have been confirmation that someone on the Odyssey was prepared to accept the uplink.’

‘But why?’ Daniel asked, frowning.

‘The beaming technology,’ answered Rodney promptly. ‘I think they planned to uplink to the Odyssey and use the beaming technology to transport everyone in a specified radius.’

‘So, if Sheppard hadn’t hit the laptop…’ Daniel began in horror.

‘They would have beamed everyone within the coffee shop to who knows where.’ Rodney completed.

‘They have to have someone on the Odyssey.’ Sam said with a dry mouth. Her eyes shifted to Jack. ‘We need to lock the ship down.’

Jack nodded sharply and jumped off the stool. ‘I’d better go call Vidrine.’

Sam nodded briskly. ‘SG3 and SG13 can go to the Odyssey and take control of the lockdown protocol. I’ll get Teal’c here to talk with the guy who had the laptop; he might know who his opposite number is.’

‘I should head up there too.’ Rodney said. ‘You’re going to need someone do a full system check.’

‘Sounds like a plan.’ Jack noted.

They were at the door when the alarms sounded. Sam ignored the flash of anxiety that streamed through her as she ran for the control room, beating the others there.

‘Report!’ She ordered.

The technician, Andrea, waved a hand at the monitor where the red-headed Colonel Morrow stared out at her with a sneering expression. ‘It’s the Odyssey, ma’am. They’re using the emergency channel.’

‘Colonel.’ Sam said shortly, feeling Jack take up residence at her elbow; Daniel hovered just behind as Rodney ushered Andrea away from the computer much as Sam would have done herself if she wasn’t in command.

‘Colonel.’ Morrow tensed as he took in Jack. ‘General.’ His eyes slid back to Sam and he didn’t bother to hide his irritation at having to talk with her. ‘Approximately, thirty minutes ago, there was some kind of explosions in engineering. I have two dead; four others are injured. Both our ability to transport using the Asgard beam and most of our communications systems have been compromised.’

Sam let out a huff of breath. They’d been too late working it out, she realised. The Alliance operative aboard must have suspected they’d be caught and arranged something to distract them while they escaped.

‘Unfortunately,’ Morrow continued, ‘I regret to inform you that the incident occurred shortly after we received a communication from Colonel Sheppard asking for an immediate beam-out.’

‘Sheppard requested a beam-out?’ Rodney turned to her hurriedly. ‘Sam, if John was worried enough…’

She gestured for him to shut up for a moment; they needed to get all the facts.

‘Was the beam-out successful?’ Sam asked Morrow.

‘No.’ Morrow said.

Which meant that Cam and John had been left to face whatever attack had prompted the request alone.

‘Rodney, we need their co-ordinates now.’ Sam ordered swiftly.

Rodney tapped onto the computer and she realised he was accessing the Atlantis network for the sensor readings.

‘Colonel…’ Morrow began, evidently annoyed that her attention was no longer on him.

‘Just a moment, Colonel.’ Sam said without looking. She repressed the urge to shove Rodney away and complete the search herself. It was his friend in danger too, she told herself briskly; and he had more experience with Atlantis’ computers than she did.

‘Oh God.’ Rodney said, his fingers freezing on the keyboard.

‘What?’ Jack asked impatiently.

Sam read the results over his shoulder and felt her heart stutter. ‘The Atlantis sensors aren’t picking them up any longer.’ Her mind whirled through the possibilities; the Alliance wanted Cam alive so they had to be alive; she had to hold onto that thought. She placed a comforting hand on Rodney’s shoulder. ‘Rodney, how far extended are the sensors?’

‘North America.’ Rodney answered immediately. His eyes widened as he realised what her question inferred. ‘You think they’ve been transported outside of the States.’

‘Which means that they must have been transported before the beaming technology was put out of operation.’ Daniel stated, catching on fast to Sam’s own conclusions.

‘And they probably did that deliberately so we couldn’t follow them.’ Sam said grimly. She turned back to the monitor. ‘Morrow, we need the last known beaming coordinates from the Odyssey databank.’

‘The explosions took out our systems.’ Morrow shot back. ‘And both my beaming technology experts including Novak are in the infirmary.’

Sam swivelled again. ‘McKay, pull together whoever and whatever you need. You’re leaving in fifteen minutes in the puddle jumper with SG3 to get to the Odyssey. I want you to get me those coordinates and fix the communications and beaming technology.’

‘On it.’ Rodney was out of his chair before he finished the sentence.

Sam nodded to Reynolds who had stayed out of the way in a corner of the control room and he left to organise his team. She motioned at Andrea.

‘I want call in checks with the protection details on Mitchell’s family and fiancée now.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ The technical moved away to the phones; Daniel followed after her.

Sam straightened her shoulders and looked determinedly at the monitor. She knew Morrow was going to have a fit over the order but that wasn’t her concern. ‘Colonel Morrow, as of now the Odyssey is on lockdown. Nobody leaves; secure the 302 bay and ensure all are accounted for. Doctor McKay will be with you shortly along with SG3 to help fix the beaming technology and SG3 will help you with the lockdown security protocol. Is that understood?’

Morrow bristled as she knew he would. ‘You don’t have the authority…’

‘Actually, I do as acting commander of the SGC and the Stargate programme.’ Sam replied mildly but firmly. Her eyes glinted dangerously. If Morrow disobeyed her order she’d have him arrested, put in the brig and she’d give the command to Lieutenant Colonel Marks. She only wished she could do that anyway.

‘Very well but I want to formally protest.’ Morrow snapped.

‘Your protest is noted.’ Sam said coolly. She nodded to terminate the communication and the monitor went blank. She let out a small sigh of relief and brought up Rodney’s search results again, backtracking to the last known coordinates. It was the Sheppard’s airfield.

‘I want the second puddle jumper prepped and ready to go now. SG13 and 24 need to be topside in fifteen minutes to head to those coordinates. I’ll be joining them.’ She pointed at the monitor and the aide she had ordered ran off to execute it.

‘Sam!’ Daniel slammed down the phone. ‘Mitchell’s parents are at the farm but Amy is missing. Teal’c said she’d retired to her bedroom and they didn’t see her leave.’

‘She was probably beamed out.’ Sam muttered. ‘Get suited up. We’re leaving. Once we’re dropped off at the airfield. You can take the puddle jumper and retrieve Teal’c and Ronon; meet us back there.’ She moved to finally look at Jack. ‘Can you handle the President for me?’

‘Just the President?’ Jack quipped lightly.

‘You need to call General Vidrine too, and probably someone should update Richard and General Landry.’ Sam said, already walking towards the staircase.

Jack sighed as he placed a hand on the small of her back. ‘Why do I get all of the non-fun jobs?’

‘Because you’re the boss.’ Sam smiled at him despite the worry pressing down on her and she appreciated his touch. It was as much as they allowed themselves on duty but it helped ground her.

She left Jack in her office and made for the private locker room she had access to as the acting head of the SGC. She changed quickly, aware of the deadlines she had set everyone else and was pleased when she was only a minute late climbing into the puddle jumper.

She acknowledged the teams and Daniel with a nod as she made her way to the passenger seat at the front and gave the order to lift off.

Daniel moved to the seat behind her. ‘You know there is another reason why the sensors wouldn’t be picking up Mitchell and Sheppard any longer.’

Sam’s lips tightened. She knew that if they were dead their signatures would have blinked out. ‘I know.’

‘So…’

‘So, we have to check but Rodney needs to be focused on finding them.’ Sam admitted. She had to see for herself whether they were dead or not. She didn’t believe that they were – not really. The Alliance wanted Mitchell alive to lead them to Landry and the spy too much, and acquiring John a bonus. But there was the possibility…

‘Someone had to give away their location.’ Daniel mused out loud, scratching the line between his brows. ‘You think it was Amy?’

‘The za’tarc test isn’t a hundred per cent reliable,’ Sam blushed as she remembered how they’d found that out; the ordeal of realising that the za’tarc test had discovered the unspoken truth about her feelings about Jack and his for her, ‘and really it’s not good at detecting certain types of brainwashing.’

‘Or she’s not brainwashed and she simply informed them herself.’ Daniel said.

‘Well, we’re assuming Cam told her where he and John were headed.’ Sam shook her head, sending the loose strands from her French plait flying. ‘I can’t see Cam doing that. She might still be an innocent in all this and they’ve taken her to blackmail Cam into doing what they want.’

‘Which leaves the employees involved in arranging the airfield clearances at Sheppard International as the possible traitors.’ Daniel said. ‘They had to have known.’

‘Maybe but it’s likely if they did that they didn’t understand the implications of leaking it.’ Sam sighed. ‘Or it could have been a lucky guess that Cam would stop in Colorado because it’s home. We’ll know more when we get there.’ She shifted restlessly. ‘We should have considered the possibility of more than one cell.’

‘I’m not sure it would have made a difference.’ Daniel commented. ‘We took all the reasonable precautions we could; so did Mitchell and Sheppard. There’s no way we could have predicted the Alliance getting a foothold on the Odyssey and turning the beaming technology against us. Honestly, I’m surprised that they haven’t got it themselves since Ba’al had it.’

‘Ba’al never liked sharing.’ Sam pointed out dryly.

‘Ma’am, ETA two minutes.’ The Sergeant interrupted.

‘Run full scans.’ Sam ordered and frowned as the results snapped into holographic view above the control panel.

Dixon inched forward and grimaced. ‘It looks abandoned.’ He paused. ‘No life signs.’

‘How do you want to play this, Colonel?’ Sam asked. Dixon had years more experience than she did and she was happy to acquiesce to his plan.

‘SG24 can secure the perimeter; my team and you can take the hangar.’ Dixon suggested.

‘Agreed.’ She snapped a look at Major Doyle, the leader of SG24, who answered ‘yes, sir’ smartly back. She turned to the Sergeant. ‘You need to collect Teal’c and Ronon from Kansas. Stay cloaked and don’t let anybody see you.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

Sam gave a sharp nod. ‘Let’s do this.’

They landed on the airstrip; light from the runway casting them in broken shards of light and shadow. There was a swell of air as the cloaked jumper took off again.

Sam aimed her P90 and crept forward alongside Dixon to the hangar door. They rested against the wall. Sam felt her body humming with the usual adrenaline and took a calming breath as she watched Dixon’s hand signals; go on three; he’d go high, she should go low. She nodded and kept her eyes on his hand as he counted down.

The team moved like a well-oiled unit into the darkened hangar; the flashlights on their weapons the only light. They scoped out the corners and the hidey-holes, swiftly and with purpose; Sam swallowed hard as her light caught on the bullet holes adorning the plane. She kept her mind focused and blank, refusing to give into the small tremor of terror of what she would find inside, as she opened up the door. It took less than a minute to check that the plane was empty too.

They were gone. There were no bodies. It looked like the guess that John and Cam had been transported out was correct. She breathed out a shaky breath as various calls of ‘clear’ came from around the large space. She called out her own and heard Dixon order one of his men to find the lights.

The sudden brightness made her wince. The carnage looked worse in the harsh fluorescents; the plane had been shot up badly. Very badly. But not the cockpit, Sam realised as her brain got past the concern. She moved back inside the plane and checked the cockpit. Nothing. Sam inched back out and made her way over to Dixon.

‘We have three bodies out back; two mechanics, who are both stripped to their underwear, and a guy who looks like the manager.’ Dixon informed her briskly. ‘It looks like the Alliance took over the airfield, allowed them to land, waved them in here and then…’ he thrust his thumb towards the wrecked plane. ‘Shame too because she’s a beauty. Sheppard’s going to be pissed.’

Sam’s radio crackled. ‘Perimeter is secure, Colonel, but we have a car at the gate with four individuals claiming to be from Sheppard International’s security. They claim they were dispatched following the triggering of hidden alarms.’

‘Roger that; send them through and I’ll talk with them. Out.’ Sam motioned at Dixon. ‘I want a forensic search of the premises. Let’s see if they left us any kind of clue.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ Dixon agreed and walked away to order his team.

Sam went out to greet the approaching car. She held her weapon loosely but firmly. She didn’t want to shoot them if they were actually Sheppard International employees. Jack would have gotten their presence at the airfield cleared with the President but legally they were on very shaky ground being there at all.

The black SUV pulled up; three men and a woman climbed out. The driver, the woman and the other man who had been in the back seat hung back. The guy who had exited from the passenger seat made his way to her; tall, in his forties, dark hair cropped short – and he was holding a cell phone to his ear.

‘My boss wants to talk to you.’ He said, extending the phone.

Sam nodded. He grinned at her. She took the phone with her free hand, keeping hold of her weapon with the other – a move not lost on the guy in front of her.

‘This is Colonel Carter.’ Sam said formally.

‘This is David Sheppard.’ John’s brother snapped back. ‘What the hell is going on?’

Sam sighed and moved away from her audience. ‘There was an incident at the airfield when Colonels Sheppard and Mitchell arrived. I regret to inform you that three of your employees have been killed in the crossfire. We’re here to investigate.’

‘I want to speak to my brother.’

‘I’m afraid your brother is missing at the present time.’ Sam replied with a wince.

‘He’s missing! Who took him? Was it the…people your Major Davis informed me about? Is there a rescue…there is a rescue plan, right? You’re not just going to leave him and…’

‘Mister Sheppard,’ Sam broke into the panicked babble, ‘all I can tell you is that we’re going to do everything we can to get John back. The rest is classified.’

‘Please.’ Dave said immediately. ‘He’s my brother. I can’t…I need to help. Don’t you have a brother? Or a sister?’

‘I have a brother and yes,’ Sam forestalled his argument, ‘if he was missing I would want to be involved.’ She debated it briefly before she sighed. ‘I’ll have someone come and brief you fully, but in exchange I need your full cooperation. It’s likely the information about your brother’s whereabouts was leaked by someone in your organisation.’

‘You’ll have it. If you could please pass the phone back to Mr Kelly.’ Dave replied in a calmer tone.

‘Thank you.’ Sam walked back to Kelly and gave him the phone. She stared up at the night sky. They would find the two men; they would. She only hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

Chapter 20

John came awake abruptly and only his training had him keeping still and his breathing even. A sharp pain arrowed through his forehead but he stifled the groan in his throat. He kept his eyes closed and assessed his situation through the rest of his senses first.

He was lying on a cold metal grille. The edges were hard and digging into his naked flesh.

Naked flesh.

That wasn’t good. He took an inventory and realised he had no clothing but his snug black briefs. They’d stripped him. His wrists were bare of the leather bracelet and the watch he usually wore. The familiar earpiece was gone and there was no weight around his neck. The absence of his dog tags made him feel very vulnerable as though they’d stripped him of his identity in the act.

That was the point, John reminded himself. Prisoners were stripped and divested of personal items to make them feel vulnerable and off balance. He took a calming breath and continued his assessment.

He didn’t think they’d been beaten up too badly; his body ached but he figured that was from the zat stun that had sent him to the ground. Maybe more bruising on his knee, hip and elbow from the fall, John guessed. There were no ropes or chains binding him. He would be free to move so he was probably in a cell – and not alone. He couldn’t feel Mitchell next to him but he could hear him breathing – slowly and evenly so his friend was likely unconscious.

John focused on his hearing again. There was a heavy engine thrumming underneath him; the vibrations jolting almost imperceptibly through the grille. The sound was wrong for a plane; John knew that instantly. He concentrated calling to mind the room they had transported into, and wondered if they were on a boat. That would make sense, he mused, because they’d believed the seventh member of the cell had been on a boat.

He couldn’t hear anything else; nobody else seemed to be in the room with them so no immediate guard. He cautiously opened his eyes. His vision swam for a moment until he blinked rapidly to adjust for the darkness and he took in his surroundings. The walls were metal; no window; there was a narrow strip of light near to the ground on his left that indicated the presence of the door. It provided the only light source to dissipate the darkness and allow John to make sense of the shadows. He turned his head slowly.

Mitchell was lying on the other side of the room; similarly stripped of everything but a pair of boxers and looking as vulnerable as John felt.

John took another breath and warily got to his feet. His stomach lurched and he steadied himself against the wall, the metal cold and unyielding against his palm. He breathed in deeply and wondered if the nausea was the underlying motion of the boat or a side effect from the zat gun. He checked over his body and noted the deep bruising on his hip; the scrape on his elbow. But otherwise he was uninjured.

‘OK, John.’ John whispered to himself. ‘So far, so good.’ If he ignored the being naked, captured and locked in a room situation. He managed to step over to Mitchell and crouched down carefully next to him to assess his condition.

Mitchell’s knees seemed to have borne the brunt of the impact; both looked swollen and red. That wasn’t good; if Mitchell had trouble walking it could impede any escape attempt they would make. His eyes flitted over the faint silvery lines of old scars and John winced inwardly at the visible sign of how much damage Mitchell’s legs had already taken in the line of duty. He checked over the rest of Mitchell quickly but apart from a couple of cuts and bruises on his arms, there was no other sign of injury and his pulse was strong.

John started to make a tour of the room, using his hands to sketch over the walls tentatively in case he came into contact with something sharp. All he found was more metallic walls. He was able to make out the door but he knew trying it would alert someone that he was awake and he decided the longer he and Mitchell remained unmolested the better.

He also established that there were no bathroom facilities or running water of any kind in the room. That was bad. It made them reliant on their captors for basic dignity and for survival. John wasn’t so much worried about basic dignity; it was humiliating to be left to soil the room where they were kept but it wasn’t life threatening. The lack of water was.

John chewed on his lip for a while before conceding that their captors knew what they were doing. They would have to wait and see what happened. He started to make his way to the far wall.

Mitchell groaned and John diverted to go back to him. He crouched beside him again and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder.

‘Mitchell.’

Mitchell gave another weak groan. His eyes flickered open gradually until they settled on John. John could see Mitchell start making his own assessments as he stayed quiet for a long moment.

Mitchell rolled onto his back and John withdrew his hand, staying ready though to help Mitchell if he needed support. Mitchell got upright and winced visibly as he placed his weight on his legs.

‘Fuck.’ Mitchell whispered.

John grimaced at the language; it meant the pain was bad if Mitchell was swearing. ‘Can you walk?’ He kept his own voice low. Hopefully, whoever was outside would be hard of hearing.

‘Hobble?’ Mitchell gasped. He flailed out with one hand and John took it, quickly shifting to wrap an arm around Mitchell’s waist and help him to the wall. Mitchell sat breathing heavily for a long while before he collected himself. ‘So how screwed are we?’

‘Metal walls. No windows. There’s a vent just above our heads on the other wall but it looks too small for us to fit. One door.’ John reported briskly despite keeping his voice just above audible. He sat down beside Mitchell. ‘I haven’t tried it.’

‘Good thinking.’ Mitchell said easing his legs out in front of him. ‘I take it they’ve only left us with, uh, our underwear?’

John nodded. ‘They’re pretty good at this.’

‘Yep.’ Mitchell breathed in deeply and his left hand crept down to massage the abused flesh of his knee.

‘Are you going to be OK for an escape attempt?’ John asked bluntly.

‘I’ll crawl if I have to.’ Mitchell stated with enough determination that John believed him.

‘I think we’re on a boat.’ John continued. ‘They must have had someone on the Odyssey.’

‘Not to mention another cell in play.’ Mitchell added. ‘Those guys that attacked us at the airfield.’

‘Yeah.’ John felt a surge of guilt. They should have thought of that and come up with a different plan; a better plan than the one he’d come up with. Instead, they’d gone with his plan, missed vital information and ended up captured.

‘This wasn’t your fault.’ Mitchell’s quiet words jerked John out of his contemplation.

‘My mission, Mitchell; my responsibility.’ John retorted, folding his arms over his chest. The goose bumps breaking out along his forearms made him realise he was cold. His activity had kept him warm but the room was cool. They weren’t going to suffer from hypothermia any time soon but it was uncomfortable.

‘We wouldn’t even have attempted a mission if I hadn’t decided I couldn’t wait for them to attack first.’ Mitchell grimaced. ‘And nobody anticipated them having someone on the Odyssey to intercept the emergency beam-out.’ He sighed. ‘I guess we can’t assume that we’re going to be beamed out any time soon.’

‘Rodney will find us.’ John said confidently.

‘The Atlantis sensors.’ Mitchell remembered, changing hands and legs; his right hand massaging his right knee.

‘Um, no.’ John grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. ‘Those only tracked us in the States and since the last time we heard the seventh member was on a boat somewhere in the South hemisphere…’

‘So, how’s Rodney going to find us?’ Mitchell asked clearly bemused.

‘He’ll come up with something.’ John said again. He nudged Mitchell’s arm. ‘You don’t think Sam won’t find us if Rodney can’t?’

Mitchell’s expression cleared as he got the message; their teams would be doing everything they could to find them.

‘We just need to stay alive long enough for them to find us.’ John continued. ‘Or, you know, find a way off the boat ourselves.’

Mitchell rested his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. ‘Before we got stunned I recognised the woman leader; it’s Allia.’

‘Allia.’ John’s eyes widened. ‘Allia as in the Allia who is supposedly secreted somewhere with Landry?’

‘That would be the one.’ Mitchell frowned and lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. ‘Either Landry was duped by someone pretending to be her or…’

‘Or he’s somewhere on the boat.’ John finished. He turned it over in his head. ‘I don’t think he’s here. Landry calls in for reports with the SGC and Homeworld Security. If he was being coerced, he would have used a code word.’

‘Maybe he’s brainwashed.’ Mitchell pointed out.

John acknowledged the issue. ‘I still think someone duped him into thinking she was Allia. He hadn’t seen her before had he?’

‘I was the only person to see her.’ Mitchell admitted with a sigh. ‘If someone did dupe Landry, then they had to be close enough to Allia to make it work.’

‘So she’s here for revenge.’ John wasn’t surprised. From what he knew of the Alliance it fitted with their modus operandi.

‘It explains why I was Allia’s focus. She knows me already.’ Mitchell grimaced. ‘I am not looking forward to this reunion.’ He banged his head against the wall.

John considered the sudden tension in Mitchell’s face. ‘She tortured you before she agreed to give you what you wanted and you left it out of the report.’

Mitchell’s lips tightened. ‘Not exactly.’

‘And by not exactly…’ John pressed ruthlessly but he needed to know whether Mitchell was going to break or not.

‘Before I spoke with Allia was this,’ Mitchell explained, with a wave that encompassed his relative nakedness, ‘I was stripped, thrown into a cell without anything.’ He wet his lips. ‘Allia tortured me after she gave me the intelligence I was after.’

‘After she gave you Ba’al’s location.’ John deduced.

‘We made a deal.’ Mitchell said dully. ‘She likes pain games.’

John didn’t say anything; there was nothing to say. Mitchell was a grown-up; he’d taken the risk when he’d agreed to Allia’s terms. And John wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have taken the same deal.

‘It wasn’t…bad.’ Mitchell added after a while. ‘She whipped me mostly. Then she had one of her minions, a tame Goa’uld who’d entered her service for protection, heal me using a Goa’uld hand device and she let me go.’ He grimaced as he moved his legs. ‘It was either that or she would have killed me so…I couldn’t put it in the report.’

‘You don’t have to justify anything to me.’ John assured him. They all made decisions in the field that sounded crazy when they were safely back at base and, most of the time, the brass didn’t want to know despite the standing order that the reports be as complete as they could be.

‘I guess you understand more than most.’ Mitchell commented quietly. ‘There are some orders that shouldn’t be followed.’

John stiffened, thinking it was an allusion to his black mark.

Mitchell sighed heavily, acknowledging the sudden tension between them. ‘I didn’t mean that as a criticism, John.’

‘I know.’ John said automatically before he realised he did know. ‘It’s just…’ he shrugged and rubbed his upper arms, hoping to get some warmth back into his limbs.

‘You got a raw deal.’ Mitchell looked over at him earnestly. ‘Geez, Sheppard, you went back for three men against orders because you held firm to the notion of not leaving them behind. Most people would have awarded you with a medal.’

‘Not the ones who focus on the disobeying orders part of it.’ John said dryly. He tried to relax but he never talked about it and wasn’t about to start. The issue had never been because he’d disobeyed orders that one time; it was because he’d disobeyed orders on multiple other occasions and he’d had to finally pay the price. All in all though, his punishment could have been worse; he could have been discharged. As it was, he’d ended up in the right place at the right time and found himself with a command that he loved and a team – friends – that he considered family. ‘It’s OK. Ancient history.’

Mitchell’s eyebrows rose a little but he acquiesced to the change in subject. ‘I’m sorry about Maggie. She must have been shot up pretty badly.’

John closed his eyes as the memory of their final moments in the plane flooded through his head; the echoing tear of metal as the bullets ripped through her. They were lucky that their attackers hadn’t truly been aiming to kill them. He wondered if she was salvageable; if she could be repaired. It was only a plane, John thought furiously. He’d only had her a short time; he shouldn’t be so attached. Hadn’t he made himself promise when he’d left his father and brother after the argument that had led to their estrangement that he wouldn’t get attached to anyone or anything ever again?

But he had.

He’d gotten attached to Atlantis as soon as he’d stepped inside the city with the steps lighting up as he walked. He’d gotten attached to Ford who had hero-worshipped him and who’d had the makings of a fine officer but who he hadn’t been able to save; to Elizabeth who had given him the chance to prove himself but who he had lost; to the original Carson who had saved John’s life and who had died in a senseless, senseless way. And he was still attached to Ronon, Teyla and Rodney despite the knowledge that their lives were drifting from John’s with the advent of romantic partners and children. No doubt he’d lose them too one day.

Just like he lost everyone.

‘John?’ Mitchell’s hand landed warm and heavy on his arm. ‘You OK?’

John avoided Mitchell’s concerned gaze and nodded. ‘Just…thinking.’

Mitchell looked as though he was about to argue but he removed his hand and slumped back into his previous position. ‘I meant to ask,’ he said quietly, ‘why the name Maggie?’

John’s body tensed again and it took an effort for him to unclench his jaw to reply. ‘My mother’s name.’

‘Oh.’ Mitchell grimaced apologetically. ‘I didn’t know.’

‘No reason why you should.’ John murmured. He changed position, trying to ignore how much his body ached. ‘I thought with Dave giving me the plane…it seemed right.’

‘I don’t think I’ve heard you mention her before.’ Mitchell said.

‘She died a long time ago.’ John said sharply. He sighed, unhappy with the hard tone he’d used. ‘Sorry.’

‘My fault.’ Mitchell replied apologetically. He shifted against the wall, trying to find a better position. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything.’

Mitchell sounded so miserable that John hurried to reassure him. ‘No, it’s…’ he stopped, ‘it’s hard to talk about, you know? I mean, I was eleven.’

Mitchell stayed silent but John could almost feel his curiosity; the repression of the usual question of ‘what happened.’

‘It was a car accident,’ John said eventually, ‘the brakes failed; we went off the road and hit a tree. I managed to get Dave out and I went back for her but…’ he wrapped his arms more tightly around himself, lost in the memories of the heat of the explosion and flying through the air, ‘it was too late.’

He couldn’t look at Mitchell. He didn’t want to see condemnation or, worse, pity, in the other man’s eyes.

‘You have to know it wasn’t your fault.’ Mitchell said softly. ‘You were eleven.’

John didn’t know how to reply. It was his fault; if he had been smarter, faster, better…

‘Didn’t your Dad tell you that?’ Mitchell continued.

John laughed harshly. ‘Actually, he told me it was all my fault.’

‘He what?’ Mitchell said, shocked and furious.

John waved a hand in Mitchell’s direction and stared at the shadows on the far wall. ‘That was our last conversation. Him telling me it was my fault my mother was dead and my telling him that I’d stay in Antarctica for the rest of my life if it meant that I didn’t have to have anything more to do with him.’

‘Shit, Sheppard…’ Mitchell reached out and clasped John’s shoulder.

John finally looked over at him.

Mitchell’s blue eyes gazed back sympathetically at him. ‘Your Dad was a grade A bastard.’

John nodded, his throat suddenly tight with unexpected tears.

Mitchell let go of him. ‘I’m pretty sure we can get Maggie fixed up.’

‘Maybe.’ John managed to reply, grateful for Mitchell changing the topic.

‘Is it me or is it cold in here?’ Mitchell asked abruptly, rubbing his arms furiously.

John grimaced as he assessed how cold he felt. ‘It’s not you.’ He pushed off the floor and hauled himself to his feet. ‘Come on, we need to move around and get warm.’

Mitchell took his hand and used the wall for support as he got upright. They both began pacing, Mitchell hobbling with every step.

Stop thinking of the past, John instructed himself briskly. They had to find a way to escape especially as it was unlikely that they would be beamed out. ‘You know what I don’t understand,’ he said out loud as the thought formed in his head, ‘why attack us at the airfield? If they had someone on the Odyssey, why didn’t they target us straight away and beam us out days ago?’

‘Access?’ Mitchell suggested with a pained shrug. ‘Maybe they’re not used to the targeting system either. Maybe they had to get us to a predefined location.’

‘So how did they know where to find us?’ John asked, stopping for a moment, his hands on his hips as he thought it over. ‘Only us, Sam and the airfield guys knew we were scheduled to fly into Colorado, right?’

‘Right.’ Mitchell sighed and rested up against the wall. ‘Maybe it was the airfield guys. Maybe someone called them pretending they were the press and wanted an exclusive photo of the elusive owner of Sheppard International. They probably didn’t realise the danger.’

‘I don’t know…’ John began, thinking it was unlikely that the airfield staff would have said anything to the press but a sound outside the door made him stop. He raised a finger to his lips as Mitchell went to ask him what was wrong and pointed at the door.

They silently signalled a plan; John would hide behind the door and take out whoever entered; Mitchell would be bait. They positioned themselves quickly and the sound of bolts drawing back had John’s heart rate escalating. He drew a careful breath and waited in anticipation as the lock released with a rusty click. The door moved outward but before John could move the lights were switched on, flooding the room and almost blinding John as someone stepped inside.

He tried to blink the glare out of his eyes as he went to attack but the bulky form spun and sent him spinning into the wall and crashing to the ground.

‘Don’t!’

The sound of a zat being armed stopped Mitchell from attacking the guard. John raised his head and realised that he was the intended victim of the zat not the other Colonel.

‘Allia wants to see you, Mitchell.’ The guard’s form solidified in John’s vision; male, built, close cropped hair and a tribal tattoo on his arm. He motioned for Mitchell to step out of the room.

Mitchell glanced towards John.

‘I’m OK,’ John assured him, gingerly touching the back of his head.

‘Allia doesn’t like to be kept waiting.’ The guard snarled and raised the zat at John again.

‘OK, OK.’ Mitchell held up both his hands. ‘I’m coming.’ His blue eyes met John’s briefly; they exchanged an unspoken promise that if either escaped they would find the other as he limped past and out of the room.

The guard threw a bottle of water at John. ‘Here. She wants you alive.’

John caught the plastic bottle before it hit his face. ‘Thanks for the room service. I’d tip but I seem to be without my wallet.’

The guard leered and stormed out. The door clanged shut behind him and a second later the lights went out.

He moved so he was sitting back against the wall again and opened the water. It could be drugged, he considered thoughtfully, in all probability it was but he needed water to live. He took a couple of careful mouthfuls and set the bottle aside. Hopefully, it wasn’t drugged and if it wasn’t, Mitchell would need some water when he returned.

If he returned.

He should have done something more to stop them from taking him.

‘Stupid, John.’ John muttered under his breath.

The light seeping in under the door mocked him.

He banged his head lightly against the wall. Allia wouldn’t kill Mitchell. She wanted him to get to Landry and whoever it was that was pretending to be her. Clearly that someone had a death wish, John mused. Did Landry know that it wasn’t Allia? Was that why he’d kept Mitchell out of it? John got the impression that Mitchell was perplexed by Landry’s decision not to confide in him and John was too.

Landry wasn’t a bad CO. John had served with enough to know the difference between bad and good. And Landry was a good CO on the whole; he just didn’t trust John all that much. John felt a moment’s shimmering hurt about that because he was good at his job and he wanted his CO’s trust. But he figured Landry respected him – enough to keep John in Atlantis – which maybe wasn’t a bad trade-off. By comparison, John believed Landry both respected and trusted Mitchell. And Mitchell probably hadn’t given Landry cause not to do either. Even if Mitchell had omitted various things on official reports, well…they all did it. Sometimes the crap they encountered off world, the decisions they made, didn’t need to make it on paper for some pencil pusher to judge.

John grimaced, remembering Mitchell’s admission about Allia and her pain games. He wondered if Allia was going to try the same kind of deal again. He doubted Mitchell would take it again. John wondered what kind of deal Allia was going to offer him; he assumed Allia wouldn’t simply use him as leverage to try and get Mitchell to do what she wanted; John wasn’t unaware that he had value as the military leader of Atlantis.

He wet his lips and glanced at the water bottle longingly. He didn’t feel any different so there was hope it hadn’t been drugged. He shivered. He should get some rest and get prepared to make another attempt at freedom when the door was opened again.

Or, hopefully, it would be Mitchell the next time coming to save him. John closed his eyes.

Chapter 21

Cam watched as the guard who’d ordered him out of the room locked the door, bolted it and pocketed the keys. He inwardly groaned because it would make grabbing them much harder. His eyes flitted to the young guard standing beside him with another zat pointed at him. He was tall, thin and with a blond crew cut that reminded Cam of Billy Idol.

‘Start walking.’ Guard Numero Uno growled.

The Billy Idol wannabe pushed Cam’s shoulder and he started walking. The corridor was narrow and Cam felt a moment’s satisfaction that they were on a boat as they walked through another door – one that he recognised from various times he’d been on aircraft carriers. He climbed up the ladder to the next deck at Guard Numero Uno’s insistence and down another narrow corridor. There were portholes to the left and Cam tried to peer out casually. His eyes glanced off a floating iceberg and widened.

They were near Antarctica.

It wasn’t his favourite place – he’d almost lost his life after the crash on the ice – but he would take it. McMurdo was close and John knew Antarctica; he’d spent almost a year posted there before the Stargate programme.

OK, so Antarctica wasn’t great but it could be counted in the plus column, Mitchell determined. He shivered though at the sight of the ice; the warm leather jackets the guards were wearing made sense. What was bad, Mitchell thought tiredly, was that he and John were stripped. They’d need to find clothing to escape in or they’d die from hypothermia before they even made it to McMurdo. It was still a possibility even without escape; the room they were in wasn’t exactly freezing but the Alliance hadn’t made it comfortable. He hoped John would stay warm.

The guard turned a corner and Mitchell was waved into an open cabin door. He ducked his head a little and entered. The brush of heat against his bare skin reminded him of his previous thoughts as he took in the large space; oak panelled, furnished as a study with a further room off to the back where Cam could see a bed.

His attention was arrested on the sight of the blonde woman standing behind the desk. She wore a three-quarter length leather jacket over a tight black top and leather trousers. Her hair was neatly constrained in an elegant chignon. Gold glinted in the lobes of her ears, at her wrist and on her fingers. Allia was an attractive woman in her forties; her face bore few wrinkles and she kept it stylishly made up to cover any blemishes including the scar on her left cheek that Netan had once given her.

The scents of freshly brewed coffee and baked cinnamon pastries permeated the air and Cam felt his stomach growl hungrily. Allia smirked at him and waved him into the chair in front of the desk.

‘Would you like something to eat or drink?’ Allia asked courteously. She sat down as Cam did and reached into her purse for a cigarette packet and lighter.

‘I’d like the coffee and pastry without the drugs.’ Cam watched fascinated as she lit up and blew out a stream of smoke. He was aware that the guards remained behind him, poised to shoot if he tried anything with her.

Allia pushed the plate and mug over towards him. ‘Your lucky day.’

‘I was thinking just the opposite.’ Cam said. He picked up the mug and drank down the warm liquid gratefully. He knew the guard had given John some water; they needed fluids. ‘So,’ he said, ‘you couldn’t have just called?’

Allia’s red lips curved into a wide smile. She tapped off the ash of her cigarette into a small ashtray and leaned back into her comfortable leather chair. ‘I’d forgotten how much you amused me.’

‘I’m hurt that I was so forgettable, Allia.’ Cam shot back. He stalled by drinking some more coffee. ‘How long have you known about the imposter?’

‘Since one of my people got herself killed to let me know.’

The scare that someone had gotten too close, Cam remembered; the one that had led to the information being leaked in the Alliance that there was a spy and the details of the deal.

‘My name wasn’t mentioned but yours was of course so I knew.’ Allia stabbed out the cigarette with one hard thump. ‘Someone was pretending to be me.’

‘You could have contacted us and let us know.’ Cam replied, trying to keep his tone casual. ‘We tend to take a dim view of people pretending to be someone they’re not.’

‘You think your General would have cared since the information the traitor provided had already saved some of you?’ Allia retorted angrily. She pushed her chair back and got to her feet. ‘You and I both know I would have been laughed at and denied my rights.’

Cam could feel his eyebrows climbing. He crossed his legs and grimaced at the reminder of his own nakedness. ‘Your rights?’

‘To kill the imposter.’ Allia glared at him as though he was stupid; he felt stupid.

‘I take it this is some kind of Alliance tribal law thing?’ Cam questioned. He was actually interested. The SGC didn’t really understand the workings of the Alliance – it was why they were rarely successful at getting operatives inside.

‘You Tau’ri mock our ways,’ Allia’s dark eyes glittered, ‘but our ways are as valid as yours.’

‘I didn’t say they weren’t,’ Cam kept his tone mild, ‘and I am interested in the answer.’

‘I have the right to vengeance.’ Allia looked at him coolly. ‘The rest of the Alliance agreed.’

‘They approved?’ Cam was surprised. From what they had understood the Alliance tribes worked mostly on their own eschewing a formal leader like Netan had been – probably because of how hopeless Netan had been.

‘Yes,’ Allia smiled again and sat on the edge of the desk just in front of him, ‘I’ve been here for months overseeing this plan.’ She reached out with a finger and traced his collarbone.

Cam tried hard not to shrink away from the touch or show that it had affected him in any way. ‘The plan to capture me?’

‘You were the obvious candidate.’ Allia trailed her finger up his neck and prodded his chin up so he looked at her. ‘You know where she is.’

‘I haven’t got a clue.’ Cam replied honestly. ‘The General kept me out of it. Why do you think I was so surprised to see you? The information my team gathered for me indicated you were busily getting debriefed ready for your new life.’

Allia absorbed his sincerity with a frown. She dropped her hand. ‘You do realise that I can’t just take your word for it.’

‘Why not?’ Cam asked as though it wasn’t too much of a concern that she wouldn’t. ‘Irrespective of the details, we dealt with each other fairly and honestly the last time our paths crossed.’

Allia smiled. ‘So we did.’ She stared at him for a long moment – long enough that Cam felt the flutter of nerves in his belly; a shiver worked its way down his spine. She moved suddenly, returning to her chair and lighting another cigarette. ‘Even if I was to believe you, Cameron, you still can lead me to her.’

‘I don’t know where they are.’ Cam said honestly. He eyed the pastry. He was hungry but he felt guilty for thinking about eating when John wouldn’t.

‘Now that I don’t believe.’ Allia snorted. She dragged on her cigarette. ‘Landry must have told you.’

‘The General knew I was at risk.’ Cam stated firmly. ‘He kept me out of the whole thing. Think about it, Allia; would I have really agreed to have had the wedding and gone on my honeymoon if I knew about the spy and where Landry was with her? Would I have left my CO without back-up?’

Allia considered his words and shook her head. ‘You’re much too honourable.’ She regarded him with an almost fond look that made his stomach churn. ‘You wouldn’t last in the Alliance.’

‘I’m telling you the truth.’ Cam said.

‘Let’s say that you are telling me the truth,’ she motioned with the cigarette, ‘that you don’t know anything, I’m quite certain that you could persuade your team to find out.’

‘They won’t give in to blackmail from terrorists, Allia.’ Cam pointed out. ‘They know you have me and if I call and ask, they’re not going to give me anything.’

‘The thing is, Cameron,’ Allia said, flicking her ash away, ‘you’d say the same thing regardless of whether it was the truth or not and how am I meant to tell the difference?’ She smiled. ‘I’m afraid I’m going to have to have a little fun to check.’

‘Go ahead.’ Cam offered with a show of bravado. He’d already felt her whip once; he could do it again if it bought him and John some time. John was right; their team-mates would be looking for them and they would find them.

‘Maybe I won’t play with you.’ Allia stubbed out the cigarette and leaned back. She folded her hands over her belly and looked at him with a smug smirk that Cam itched to remove from her face. ‘Maybe I’ll play with someone else.’

‘Sheppard’s too valuable for you to kill.’ Cam pointed out.

‘But not to maim.’ Allia grinned. ‘I was thinking of taking his legs. He’s a pilot, isn’t he? Can’t be a pilot without legs.’

Cam kept the flinch off his face with a struggle – it was a barb about his father, Cam was sure about that. Instead he shrugged with a brief lift of his shoulders. ‘You can if you fly Ancient technology.’ He paused. ‘He does that with his mind and since taking his head would mean killing him…’

Allia’s lips curled into a snarl. ‘Maybe I’ll just hurt him. Make him bleed.’

Cam shrugged again. ‘Go ahead. He expects to be tortured.’ It was the truth. Cam expected to be tortured too because he knew Allia wouldn’t accept his word.

She laughed raucously. ‘I do like you, Cameron.’ She tilted her head, her eyes cold. Her gaze flickered to the guard behind him. ‘Get the coats, and find clothing for Colonel Mitchell.’ She pushed her chair back. ‘We’re going to take a walk.’

Cam didn’t let her comment faze him. He waited for the guard to return. The green flight jumpsuit reminded him of those one by the Earth fleet but there were no patches to signify any ship affiliation. He pulled it on grateful to be covered up and ignored the fact that he was being watched by Allia and the guard. The boots were his but they didn’t give him his socks and Cam hid his discomfort as he tightened the laces. A thick thermal jacket in black completed the outfit.

Cam felt the prod of a zat gun at his back and got to his feet. There was a guard between him and Allia, another at his back. He calculated the odds of successfully overpowering the three of them and determined they weren’t good especially as his knees ached with every step.

Allia opened a door and rush of ice cold air slammed into Cam. He huddled into his coat and spared another guilty thought for John, still stripped bare and on his own in the cold room. He stepped out onto the deck. He noted the two helicopters on the helipad; crouching like black spiders on the bow of the ship. His heart lifted. He had no idea how to fly a chopper but he had confidence John could even if he hadn’t flown those particular models before. They rounded a corner and for a second Cam had a good view of the whole deck. The deadly sleek form of a 302 caught his attention immediately.

The spy on the Odyssey, Cam realised as he was hustled straight through another door and into the bowels of the ship again. Whoever had beamed them to the ship must have escaped the Odyssey using a 302. OK, Cam thought hopefully; they had two ways of the ship – the helicopter or the 302. John could fly either; Cam could fly the 302. They had options. The helicopter was closer, could get them to McMurdo, and was probably a safer bet but the 302 could get them safely to the Odyssey as long as there was enough fuel.

The boat must be cloaked though, Cam thought with a grimace. Otherwise the Odyssey would have already picked up on the 302. It also explained why they hadn’t been beamed back. Or maybe the spy had compromised the beaming technology when he’d left.

Allia opened a door and ushered him through it with a sly smile. Cam shot her a questioning look but stepped inside with a grimace. The room was small and clearly a surveillance room; there was a woman sitting at the table reading a magazine, ostensibly ignoring the two monitors in front of her. She got to her feet hastily as Allia entered.

Cam’s eyebrows lifted. The clothes were all Alliance; brown leather pants, leather vest over a white t-shirt, and she looked a lot different from her photo. ‘Ms Lovell, I presume?’

The redhead blushed and turned to Allia. ‘The prisoner hasn’t moved.’

Allia nodded sharply. ‘Good. You may leave us. Find some food for Colonel Sheppard and have it delivered to his cell.’

‘You could give him some clothes too.’ Cam interjected mildly. ‘It’s pretty cold in there.’

Allia’s gaze sharpened on Cam but she gestured at Lovell. ‘Give Sheppard a blanket.’

‘Yes, Allia.’ Lovell sidled out, casting a nervous glance towards Cam.

‘Well, that explains why we couldn’t find her in the States.’ Cam commented dryly.

Allia smiled. She gestured towards the monitors. ‘Don’t you want to take a look at the prisoner?’

Cam knew there was a sting in looking. He wondered if he’d see them beating John and steeled himself. His eyes flickered to the screen. For a second, his mind refused to make sense of the picture before his heart leapt anxiously into his throat and his body froze, shivering underneath the warm clothing.

Amy.

His ex-fiancée was in a room somewhere on the ship. She was clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, stretched out on a double bed. There was a discarded tea tray with the remnants of a meal on the table beside her. They must have beamed her away from her house; it was bloodless and easy. The protection detail wouldn’t have any idea she was even missing. Fear riddled Cam for a minute; made it impossible for him to speak. He knew there was only one reason for Allia to have kidnapped Amy – to force him into doing what Allia wanted.

‘As you can see, she’s unharmed.’ Allia said softly. ‘And she’ll remain that way as long as you do what I tell you.’

Cam shot her a furious look.

‘Ah, Cameron. So you do care for her.’ Allia grinned and sat down on the table, crossing her arms as she regarded him coldly. ‘I did wonder when you cancelled the wedding.’ Her head tilted. ‘Not that I can blame you for that; she is dull. I rather think you need a woman with spirit.’ She waved a hand toward the monitor. ‘It only took her ten minutes to stop yelling and start crying.’

Cam took a deep breath and ignored his balled-up fists. ‘Let her go.’

‘I don’t think so.’ Allia replied easily. ‘If you have a failing, Cameron, it’s that you’re too honourable. You’d let me torture Sheppard without giving me anything because you know he’s implicitly signed up for it since you’re both soldiers of a kind here on your world. But sweet, gentle Amy…’ her lips curved cruelly, ‘well, she’s an innocent – what do you call them? – civilian? You can’t let her be tortured.’

‘I told you the truth,’ Cam rushed out defensively, ‘I don’t know anything about the imposter or about where she is with Landry. If you torture Amy – anyone, it’ll be for nothing because I won’t tell you anything different.’

Allia’s gaze raked over his face again; he wondered whether she could see the honesty in his eyes or the desperation. ‘Why don’t you go and say hello to her?’ She grinned. ‘We did prepare the room as a honeymoon suite after all.’

Cam let himself be prodded out of the surveillance room and back down the narrow corridor. The guard unlocked a door and pushed him unceremoniously through it. The door locked behind him.

Amy stirred on the bed, her eyes opening slowly. She sprang up as soon as she saw him and an instance later, Cam had his arms full of her. He held her tightly, knowing she needed the reassurance as she sobbed on his shoulder. He smoothed a hand over her hair and down her back, trying to comfort her. He was too aware of the camera; of Allia in the surveillance room watching and listening to everything they had to say. He ducked his head to hide his own face in the crook of her neck and froze.

The grim scar line at the base of her neck told its own story. She was a host. He schooled himself not to tear out of the embrace. He took one deep calming breath after another. The line was new; he would swear it hadn’t been there when he’d hugged her goodbye. Carolyn’s people had cleared her of being a host. The Alliance had to have implanted her after they’d beamed her away from her home, Cam realised. He closed his eyes and took another calming breath.

Why?

Why would they have implanted her? To save time to get the knowledge of what Amy knew, Cam surmised. They thought he would tell her his next destination. But he hadn’t, had he? He thought back over their conversation and inwardly winced as he remembered that he’d told Amy that he’d call when he got to his place. He hadn’t meant to but he had given away that he was heading back to his own home.

Damn.

And Amy having the Goa’uld inside of her meant that the Alliance had an easy way to torture her; not to mention that it made it difficult for Cam to leave with her because he’d have to find some way to subdue her. Perhaps they were even hoping that he would confide any escape plans to her so they’d have an easy way to stop him.

Escaping had gotten more complicated in the past fifteen minutes; he had to find some way to get back to Amy’s room from his and John’s cell; subdue Amy and make his way back to the helicopter. The 302 was out because it only carried two; they would need the helicopter.

He had to pretend that he didn’t know about the Goa’uld, Cam thought quickly as Amy’s sobs slowed; he couldn’t let them know he suspected. Cam pulled out of the hold and brushed her tears away with a careful dash of his thumb. He eased away from her gently, taking hold of her hands and leading her back to the bed. He sat down with her.

‘Are you OK?’ Cam asked solicitously.

Amy gave him a disbelieving look – and he wondered for one moment if it was Amy or the Goa’uld in her head. ‘One minute I’m in my house, Cam, and the next minute I’m here. What’s going on?’

‘We’ve kidnapped by the same people Lucy and Gus work for.’ Cam said succinctly. ‘The leader is a woman called Allia. We’ve met before when I was on a mission.’ He cleared his throat and considered what he could say to her; how much. OK, so he could start with the truth. ‘Until I saw her here I thought she was being debriefed by General Landry as a double agent working towards a reward of a new life here on Earth.’

‘What?’

‘She was, uh, supposed to be a spy. But, obviously…’ Cam shrugged and kept his attention on Amy’s fingers. ‘She’s not. There’s an imposter and Allia’s not too happy hence why we’re, uh, her guests.’

‘Because she wants to find out where General Landry and the imposter are?’ Amy asked, seemingly innocently.

Cam nodded, unable to speak.

‘Why don’t you tell her?’ Amy suggested. Her fingers tightened around his. ‘I mean, surely the General has protection and then she’d let us go and…’

‘Amy.’ Cam closed his eyes briefly against a surge of disappointment. It had to be the Goa’uld trying to get him to give away secrets he didn’t have; it had to be. He refused to believe Amy would be so weak. He cleared his throat and looked at her. ‘Amy, I don’t know where Landry is. I didn’t even know that he had this agent within the Lucien Alliance until we did some digging on why they might want to kidnap me this last couple of weeks. Landry left me out of it. I don’t know why. Maybe because he knew it wasn’t Allia and didn’t want to tip her off or didn’t want me to know. I don’t know.’ He sighed. ‘All I do know is that I don’t know where Landry is.’

Amy searched his face for something and her expression hardened imperceptibly but enough that he knew the Goa’uld was frustrated. ‘Are you afraid they’re listening in? Is that the reason…’

Cam laughed harshly and pulled away from her, getting to his feet and limping away a few steps needing the distance to continue the pretence. ‘I know they’re listening, Amy, but even if they weren’t; it would still be the truth. I don’t have the information they want.’

‘So what’s going to happen?’ Amy changed, once again looking meek and terrified.

He shook his head as though to clear it. ‘They’re going to try and convince me to say something different which since what I’ve already said is the truth is going to be difficult.’ He said simply. He limped back over and took her hand. ‘Amy,’ he said, speaking to the woman who was probably trapped in her own head by the Goa’uld, ‘just stay calm and stay safe. We’ll get you out of this, I promise.’

Amy nodded slowly.

Cam squeezed her hand as the door was unlocked and Billy Idol swept in to hustle Cam out again. He was taken all the way back to Allia’s office and told to wait.

The silence in the small room was deafening. Cam surveyed the lukewarm coffee and the pastry. He drank down the liquid and ate up every scrap of the food. He knew he’d need his strength for whatever games Allia wanted to play next.

God. It was a mess. Amy infested with a Goa’uld. Allia and her vengeance gig. John locked away in the bowels of the ship and probably freezing to death. And Cam, half crippled by the pain in his knees and his back…

Cam’s lips firmed.

He couldn’t give up. His team were looking for them; John’s team were looking for them. They would be found and rescued. And regardless of that, they could escape…they would escape. They just had to find a way.

The door opened and Allia marched in with a grim smile. She raised the weapon in her hand – a Goa’uld pain stick.

‘Are you sure you don’t want to change your mind and tell me where the bitch is?’

‘I’m telling the truth, Allia.’ Cam repeated, trying not to tense in anticipation of the torture he knew was coming. ‘There’s nothing more I can tell you.’

Allia’s smile widened. ‘Oh, I know that.’ She twirled the pain stick as though she was a cheerleader with a macabre baton. ‘But why let that spoil my fun?’

Crap, thought Cam grimly. He’d get through it though. He’d get through it because Mitchells didn’t give up, SG1 didn’t give up, and neither did John Sheppard or his team. He had to hang onto that.

Chapter 22

Rodney stormed away from one console, slammed the connecting lead into another and tapped impatiently on his datapad. He grimaced. The communications system had been given a particularly nasty virus, allowing emergency communications but disrupting everything else. Both back-up systems had been hit. It was an ingenious piece of coding. It was going to be hellish to backtrack and clean out of the system.

Another virus had been uploaded into the Odyssey’s computers to cause minor malfunctions and distractions. Rodney had dealt with that first because they didn’t need anything else to worry about since he’d already assessed the beaming technology.

The dish for the targeting was fine but the entire system had been compromised including the sensor program responsible for tracking the microchips they all carried under their skin. Everything would have to be rebuilt from scratch since again the back-up systems had been similarly wiped out. The crystals controlling it had been bombed and would need to be replaced or energy rerouted through some other compatible crystals. It was hours and hours of work.

Hours and hours that John – and Mitchell – might not have, Rodney reminded himself, trying frantically to keep the incipient panic curdling in his gut from overwhelming him. He scowled at his datapad as though his glare alone could change his conclusions.

The engineering room was a disaster; debris everywhere, scorch marks along the walls, the smell of burnt metal and crystal pervading the stuffy air. Engineering staff were swarming over the area trying to fix everything and accomplishing nothing; subdued after losing two of their number in the attack.

Focus, Rodney told himself sternly. Hadn’t he learned that early on in his time in Atlantis? He needed to focus on the problem and fixing it not on…not on the possibility that John might be dead…

He wasn’t dead.

Sam had been clear when Rodney had spoken to her via the puddle jumpers; the plane was shot up badly but there was no sign that John – or Mitchell – had been shot; no blood, the cockpit relatively undamaged apart from the shot-up windshield. All indicators were that the two men had been beamed away. Beamed away by the technology Rodney should be focused on fixing…

‘Rodney.’ Lindsay Novak’s hesitant greeting had him turning towards the door to engineering with surprise. Novak hovered; her left arm was in a sling and there was a nasty bruise forming along her left temple.

‘Shouldn’t you be in the infirmary?’ Rodney asked, waving a hand in her direction to indicate her injuries.

‘I heard Colonel Mitchell and Colonel Sheppard are missing.’ Novak said simply. ‘I thought I could help rebuild the beaming system.’

Rodney was torn between wanting to kiss her – which ewww – and feeling as though he should protest and send her back to the infirmary. Instead he motioned for her to take the opposite console and sent her the diagnostics he’d already run. ‘We need to recover the last known beaming coordinates or reconstruct the sensor program to find their microchips.’

‘OK.’ Novak frowned as she assimilated the extent of the damage. ‘You’ll work on the communications?’

‘Yes.’ Rodney said tersely. He had talked with Radek via the puddle jumper. Radek was trying to extend the Atlantis sensors worldwide but the problem was convincing the Atlantis system not to pick up on every single life-form – animal, alien and human included – but only to search for John. Radek had baulked at that but Rodney had pointed out that wherever John was, Mitchell was likely to be and they could convince Atlantis to search for John’s shiny Ancient gene better than anything else.

The satellite search for the ship was going very slowly. Rodney knew from his communication with Radek that Sam had pulled Homeworld off the search and put Bill Lee onto it. But there was still nothing.

Rodney wanted to fix the communications system so he could call Bill Lee up and yell at him for not finding the ship sooner, faster, NOW. He wanted to yell at somebody.

‘We’ll find them, Rodney.’ Novak offered from her station. She was already beginning to work competently one-handed, her fingers flying over the keyboard.

Rodney gave another sharp nod. They’d find them and then they would make the Lucien Alliance pay for taking them. He frowned over another section of communications code riddled inoperative by the virus and replaced it quickly.

‘I want a status update.’ Colonel Morrow entered. His freckled face was almost as red as his hair. His grey eyes caught on Novak and narrowed. ‘Novak, you shouldn’t be here.’

‘Doctor Montgomery authorised my discharge from the infirmary, Colonel.’ Novak had subtly tensed and nerves shook through every word.

Rodney waited for the inevitable hiccups that accompanied her nervousness and wasn’t surprised when Novak immediately complied.

‘I don’t believe you. You’re clearly not fit for…’

‘She’s helping; you’re not.’ Rodney butted in bluntly, keying in another section of code. ‘That’s your status report. Now, since you’re supposed to stay on the bridge during a lockdown if I remember the protocol correctly, and please, like I would forget since I helped update it the last time, maybe you could get back there and leave us to fix this mess.’

Morrow glowered at him. ‘You are not in charge here.’

‘Neither are you.’ Rodney retorted, pleased beyond words to have an outlet for the anger that had been building inside of him since he’d seen the monitor showing the Atlantis sensor readings without John’s life sign. ‘And frankly since it was under your watch that a Lucien Alliance spy managed to get control of our beaming technology, completely screwed up the Odyssey’s systems and was pivotal in kidnapping two of the programme’s best people, I think your days of technically being the CO here are numbered!’ He was yelling full out by the end of it; Odyssey staff stopping to stare in wonder.

‘You forgot ‘allowed the spy to escape in a 302,’ Rodney.’ Novak offered politely without looking up from a console.

‘This is unacceptable…’ Morrow began heatedly.

Rodney was impressed she’d said anything against Morrow even if her voice still shook with tension. ‘I did?’ He glanced over at her. ‘That’s how the spy escaped? In a 302? But that means…’

Novak’s head snapped over to look at him excitedly as she got where he was going with his conclusion. ‘The main sensors would track the 302, we could find them that way…’

Unbidden, John’s words echoed in his head and Rodney waved away Novak’s suggestion even as he walked over to her, ignoring the spluttering Morrow. ‘No, no. If we find the plane, then we know where the plane is, not necessarily Sheppard and Mitchell, but it’s still a good place to start.’ Novak flushed with the praise and she let Rodney take over as he checked the sensors. He scowled. ‘They’re not working.’

Novak immediately pushed him off and redid the check. She carefully ran a diagnostic and Rodney shuffled impatiently beside her, reaching out to point at something and almost getting his hand slapped as a result. She motioned at the screen with the results.

‘The sensors are working fine.’ Rodney said out loud. ‘But if it’s on Earth then we should be able to find it.’

‘Maybe it left the solar system.’ Novak suggested hesitantly. She raised her good hand to her bruised forehead, wincing in pain.

‘We should bring up the flight history.’ Rodney said, moving in on the console again and disregarding Novak’s unsubtle eye-roll.

‘Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on?’ Morrow ordered belligerently.

‘We’re attempting to track down the missing 302 through the sensor information.’ Rodney shot back. ‘I would have thought even someone as moronic as you would have been able to tell that.’

‘Rodney,’ Novak drew his attention back to the monitor, ‘look; the 302 was headed for Earth, possibly Antarctica given its direction. There’s no evidence that it was leaving.’

‘So, why isn’t it showing up on Earth?’ Rodney snapped his fingers several times. ‘A cloak! They must have a cloak!’

‘Or a shield of some sort.’ Novak countered.

‘Or a shield.’ Rodney allowed, because he was generous and going to give her that one.

‘That explains why Homeworld hasn’t had any success with tracking the ship.’ Novak added.

Rodney considered that maybe he owed the technician at Homeworld an apology for thinking it was incompetence. He snapped his fingers again. ‘The 302 was headed to Antarctica. OK, so it’s not a bad place to hide a ship. It’s remote and if anyone does spot a ship they’ll assume it’s headed for McMurdo.’

‘I’ll set up a sensor trace to look for anomalies associated with cloaks and shields in the area.’ Novak was already tapping the instructions in one-handed.

‘I haven’t authorised that and I have no orders to support the search for Mitchell and Sheppard beyond ascertaining the beaming coordinates.’ Morrow asserted loudly. ‘Novak, you will desist immediately.’

The engineering staff knew when to leave; the room cleared out so fast it almost made Rodney’s head spin.

Rodney’s temper lit up. ‘You have got to be kidding me, you giant moron!’ He took a half-step toward Morrow.

Morrow straightened, his hands curling into fists.

‘Rodney…’ Novak said nervously.

‘Is there a problem here?’ Daniel’s calm voice cut through the tense engineering room.

Rodney whirled to face him, thankful for Daniel’s arrival but more thankful for the presence of Teyla and Ronon behind him. He registered Vala and Teal’c’s presence dimly.

Morrow’s face hardened with further displeasure – something Rodney hadn’t thought possible. ‘I didn’t authorise anybody to come aboard.’

‘Sam did.’ Daniel said blithely.

Rodney knew Daniel had mentioned Sam simply to goad Morrow.

Teal’c took a step toward Morrow, somehow managing to emphasise his considerable size, height and bulk combined. ‘Should you not be on the bridge during the lockdown protocol, Colonel Morrow?’

Ronon fingered his ever present stun gun in silent support.

Morrow at least had the sense to know when he was outnumbered. ‘Concentrate on communications.’ He snarled at Rodney; he glowered at Daniel and left.

‘I’m going to shove his communications system up his…’ Rodney muttered.

‘Rodney.’ Teyla interrupted, chiding him with soft concern.

‘I could shoot him.’ Ronon offered with a glint in his eyes that told Rodney he wasn’t joking.

Rodney considered that they might have overheard Morrow’s stupid comment and he was tempted to take Ronon up on it but Teyla was regarding them both with a ‘this is not a good example for my son’ expression. Rodney waved away the suggestion with regret. ‘I’ll ruin his credit rating when I get a moment.’

Vala’s dark eyes gleamed as she draped herself over the central console. ‘Can you really do that?’

Rodney preened and nodded.

‘What’s going on?’ Daniel asked impatiently.

Rodney went back to fixing communications, (because they needed communications and not because Morrow had ordered him to work on it; he didn’t give a rat’s ass what Morrow wanted him to do), as he gave them all a brief summation on the 302 and his and Novak’s theory on the shield. ‘And then,’ he concluded, ‘Colonel But-I-don’t-have-orders-to-help suggested we don’t run the scans.’

Teal’c looked murderous. It made Rodney feel better.

‘I don’t know how he got this command.’ Rodney muttered, keying in another code forcefully. ‘Even Vidrine’s not usually this bad a judge of character.’

‘Blackmail.’ Vala suggested promptly.

Teyla looked horrified.

‘She’s joking.’ Rodney assured her, plugging in another fix.

‘He excelled in Iraq,’ Daniel explained, ‘did some incredibly heroic things from what Jack told me. The Odyssey was supposed to be a reward but…’

‘But he’s not working out well in the weirdness that is the Stargate programme.’ Rodney completed dourly. It was a common phenomenon; recruits who excelled in the fields outside the Stargate programme often couldn’t get their heads around the notion that their previous thinking and ways of doing things had to change.

‘It can be a lot for some people to take in.’ Daniel sighed and pushed his glasses up his nose. ‘Anyway, I doubt he’ll have command here for much longer.’

‘They’d be better off sending him back to wherever.’ Rodney slapped the enter button back. ‘OK, I’ve rebuilt the communications system. I need to upload it and then we should be able to talk to Earth without using the emergency channel.’

‘Great.’ Daniel blinked at him as though surprised.

‘I would very much like to check that Frank and Wendy made it to Stargate Command.’ Teyla said. ‘I did not feel right leaving them.’

‘Me either.’ Vala said, looping her arm through Teyla’s and giving her a friendly squeeze. ‘But they insisted we help find our missing boys.’

‘The Mitchells are at the SGC?’ Rodney questioned. It was unusual but he guessed Sam wanted them under protective custody.

‘Colonel Carter thought it would be prudent following the disappearance of Amy Vandenberg.’ Teal’c said.

‘Huh.’ Rodney shook his head.

‘David Sheppard and his family are on their way to the SGC as well.’ Daniel added. ‘He let the SGC have any information we wanted; we can’t find a trace that it was the airfield staff who gave away the location. Either the Alliance guessed accurately that Cam would want to come home or Amy told them but I can’t believe Mitchell would have told her.’

‘Maybe she guessed.’ Vala said brightly. ‘She does know Cameron and she probably has some intuition about his actions.’

‘Maybe,’ Daniel murmured tiredly.

Rodney tried to ignore the chatter. For the record, he rather thought it was likely Mitchell had told Amy; the woman had been given the all clear on being brainwashed which had evidently been a mistake. He didn’t see Amy – a woman who hadn’t seen that her fiancé was deeply unhappy and about to dump her – would be intuitive enough to guess Mitchell’s next location. But ultimately, he didn’t see that it mattered who had given the location away only that it had been given away and John was missing.

And Mitchell.

But Rodney was more concerned about John. Stupid, heroic, self-sacrificing John who no doubt would get himself killed saving Mitchell. Rodney’s only hope lay in Mitchell being as equally as self-sacrificing as John – which wasn’t possible because nobody was as self-sacrificing as John. Besides, looking at Daniel’s pale face with its worry lines of tension, Rodney knew it wasn’t as though Mitchell was without his own people worrying about him.

‘Thought I’d find you all down here.’ Colonel Reynolds walked in with a grim smile.

Daniel waved at him. ‘Hey.’

‘We know who our spy is.’ Reynolds said without any preamble. ‘A technician called Cutter.’

‘Toby?’ Novak looked horrified. ‘He was a spy?’

‘Looks that way.’ Reynolds lifted a hand from his ever-present P90. ‘He’s the only one missing.’

Novak nodded slowly; white-faced. ‘I saw him in here just before the consoles exploded but I didn’t think it was unusual. He was always trying to learn new things to be helpful and…’ she lifted a hand to her mouth.

Teyla moved to comfort her.

Rodney held back the urge to tell Novak that she could get over her guilt about allowing the Alliance spy anywhere near the beaming technology by fixing it.

Reynolds cleared his throat. ‘I’m going to have to tell Morrow shortly.’

And the lockdown protocol would be lifted and their only ability to force Morrow into helping beyond the order Sam had already given to find the beaming coordinates would disappear. Rodney’s heart sank. His datapad beeped at him.

Rodney immediately tapped his earpiece. ‘Sam, this is Rodney.’

‘Rodney.’ Sam’s voice carried over the open channel. ‘You’ve got communications working?’

‘Obviously.’ Rodney sniffed. His mind whizzed forward automatically. ‘I have to…’

‘Call me back on a video link when you’re done.’ Sam ordered, understanding without words what his next task should be.

He tapped his earpiece again.

‘McKay to Sheppard.’ Rodney said loudly. He changed the channel back to the Atlantis team and tried again. Nothing. He changed the channel to the usual emergency one and cleared his throat. ‘McKay to Sheppard.’

‘The shield!’ Novak said loudly. ‘If our sensors can’t penetrate the shield to get a lock on their microchips then it’s possible it’s also blocking any communication.’

Rodney nodded. He set up the video link with Sam. Daniel and Reynolds joined him in front of the monitor; the rest of their teams hanging back just out of range of the camera. ‘Sam.’

She read the answer to the communication test from their disappointed looks. ‘I guess it was too much to hope for that we’d be able to reach them so easily.’

‘Novak thinks they have a shield or a cloak. We can’t find the missing 302 either.’ Rodney replied.

Sam nodded. ‘We’ve had contact from the Lucien Alliance.’

They all straightened at the news.

‘They sent a video of Cam and a demand that we release the operative Landry is debriefing.’ Sam continued briskly. She pushed a strand of blonde hair back behind her ear. ‘They want an exchange; Cam for their traitor.’

‘And John?’ Rodney asked before anyone could say anything else. His mouth went dry when Sam shook her head.

‘Nothing.’ Sam sighed heavily and Rodney couldn’t help noticing how tired she appeared; there were bags under her eyes, dark circles. He wondered if she’d gotten any rest in the four hours since they’d received the emergency communication from Morrow. ‘But we all know that doesn’t mean they don’t have him. It’s likely that they’ll try to work something separately out for John, Rodney. He has a value all of his own.’

‘Or they might want to keep him.’ Rodney retorted. ‘He has the shiniest Ancient gene around and if the Alliance is as serious about cracking the ninth chevron as we are…’

‘I know.’ Sam interrupted. ‘But let’s try to remain positive. Jack and Landry are composing a response to the Alliance; they gave us a deadline of two hours. Where are you guys at?’

Rodney updated her on the rebuild of the systems, the theory of the cloak/shield which Sam nodded at thoughtfully, and started a rant about Morrow before she cut him off and asked Reynolds about the lockdown.

‘We’ve identified the likely suspect; Toby Cutter. He was a technician. He was seen near the beaming console before the explosions took place. There’s no indication anyone else was involved.’ Reynolds relayed. He paused for a brief second. ‘I’ve yet to make my report to Colonel Morrow.’

Sam exchanged a silent look with the SG3 leader. ‘Rodney, how much time do you and Lindsay need to repair the beaming technology?’

Rodney shot Novak a questioning look. ‘Three hours if we’re phenomenally lucky.’

‘You have two to get it operational again.’ Sam said.

‘I said three.’ Rodney protested.

‘Which means you can do it in two.’ Sam replied evenly. ‘I’ll get McMurdo to send out patrols; hopefully they’ll spot the ship even if it’s just the distortion of a cloak.’ Her gaze shifted to Reynolds again. ‘I’ll have Jack get Vidrine to sign off on updated orders to provide whatever assistance is necessary to the retrieval of Colonels Mitchell and Sheppard. You should inform Colonel Morrow he can take the ship off lockdown.’

Reynolds nodded unhappily.

‘Two hours, Rodney.’ Sam said. She disconnected before he could think up a reply.

Daniel patted Reynolds on the shoulder. ‘Come on, I’ll walk with you to the bridge.’

Rodney wasn’t surprised when Teal’c and Vala fell in behind Daniel as they left.

Teyla walked around to join Rodney on the action side of the console. ‘Is there any way I can assist?’

Rodney was touched and he knew that Teyla continued to develop her computer expertise with the help of the Atlantis science staff but rebuilding the beaming technology would take an expertise she didn’t have. ‘No, Novak and I are the only ones who have the knowledge.’ He waved a hand at the monitor where Sam’s face had been a moment before. ‘And Sam, of course.’

‘Food?’ Ronon asked briskly.

Rodney was about to say no but he considered when he’d last eaten and nodded. He couldn’t afford to pass out. ‘A snack would be good.’ He waggled his finger. ‘Maybe some of those pastries? And cookies if they have them.’

‘I know what you like.’ Teyla said, clasping his shoulder. ‘I will get you a meal.’

His heart sank a little because Teyla would get him a nutritional meal or sandwich and not the snack food that Ronon would have gotten for him. Ronon sent him a sympathetic look but he didn’t offer to go instead as Teyla offered to pick something up for Novak too.

Novak excused herself to get some more painkillers and Rodney was soon left alone with his Satedan team-mate.

‘Can you do it?’ Ronon asked bluntly, leaning against the console. His green eyes were dark with frustration.

‘Maybe.’ Rodney admitted. John might give him deadlines plucked from mid-air but Sam knew the technology and he knew she’d based the time on her own knowledge of how long it would take her. ‘Even if we get the beaming technology to work, we have to lock onto something to beam them out and if they’re under a cloak…’

‘We’ll find them.’ Ronon said confidently.

Rodney took hope from the glint of determination in Ronon’s eyes. ‘We should have done more to stop this.’

Ronon shrugged. ‘We did what we could.’

He was right; Rodney knew he was right but it didn’t help the guilt curdling in his belly.

Ronon’s heavy hand landed on Rodney’s shoulder in the same spot Teyla’s had been just a few minutes before. ‘Don’t get distracted. Just do your job, McKay.’

The tone was hard and uncompromising but Rodney needed the security of Ronon’s steadfastness. He nodded and focused on the data again.

Ronon’s hand squeezed his shoulder almost painfully. ‘He knows we’re coming for him.’

Rodney knew that; he knew John would know they were coming for him, that they wouldn’t ever give up until they found him. He set to work again with renewed purpose.

Next: Emergency Landings, Chapters 23-Epilogue