Friendship, Week 1: The Child of Fear (2/3)
Title: The Child of Fear
Author: wildcat88
Genre: Friendship
Prompt: Terrorism
Word Count: ~17,500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Atlantis must pick up the pieces after returning to Pegasus from an extended absence in the Milky Way. However, reclaiming their place in the Coalition will not be easy. The galaxy has changed, and not every change is visible.
Back to part 1
The blast knocked John over a table and into the wall. Ears ringing, he staggered to his feet and shook his head to clear it.
"Sheppard!" Ronon grabbed his arm to help steady him. "You okay?"
John wiped at the warm trickle on his face, his hand coming away stained bright red. "Yeah. What-- Oh, God."
The meeting hall was a disaster -- paper and dust particles floated in the air, splintered wood was embedded in the walls and floor, and several people were lying on the ground, blood pooling around them.
"Teyla!"
While Ronon shouted orders to his militia, John raced to Teyla's side. She was face down, unconscious, a shard of what used to be a table sticking out of her thigh. He checked her pulse -- slow and steady - and ran a hand down her neck and spine, not feeling anything unusual but not wanting to take chances.
"I need some help here!"
Ronon appeared at his side. "Is she breathing?"
"Yeah, but she's bleeding pretty bad."
"Specialist Dex!" A teenage girl dashed up. "A fire has started." She gestured toward the far side of the hall where smoke was billowing from an interior room.
"Damn it. Get everyone out," Ronon ordered, kneeling down. "We've got to move her, Sheppard."
John's radio clicked. "Gate's secure, Colonel," Morrison reported.
"Dial home, Lieutenant. Tell them we need as much medical assistance as we can get. And let Keller know I'm bringing Teyla to her."
"Will do, sir."
John scooped Teyla in his arms and headed toward the gate, forcing himself to move slowly, his cargo too precious to risk a stumble. Behind him, he heard Ronon organizing the movement of the wounded to safety by one of his units and the systematic sweep of the building by another, while villagers hurried to protect their town from the nearby flames.
Thankfully, the gate was on the outskirts of the village. John stepped through, knowing the medical team waiting for them would put the color back in Teyla's face. As he anticipated, nurses swarmed them when they emerged. He laid Teyla on her side, careful not to touch the shard. A handful of them rushed toward the infirmary. The rest turned to him with expectant faces.
"There was an explosion." John glanced up to find Woolsey on the catwalk, his face ashen. "At least ten others injured."
Doctor Gardner nodded. "We'll take care of them."
John stared down the hallway where Teyla had been taken and then looked to Chuck. "Dial it up."
McKay hurried up, tac vest in one hand, tablet in the other. "What happened?"
"Bomb."
"Bomb?" McKay shrugged on the vest and followed John through the gate. "How did a bomb get past security?"
John shoved back the rage boiling in his chest. "I don't know. Yet. I've had a team there since yesterday and Ronon's been there for a week. We checked every person in that village."
"Teyla?"
"Keller's working on her. She seemed stable."
"And the baby?"
John slowed, biting his lip as he glanced at McKay. "I don't know, Rodney. It was a pretty hard blast. I don't know what kind of internal damage it could have caused."
McKay busied himself with his tablet. "I'll figure out who's responsible."
But hours of work yielded nothing. The building had burned almost to the ground by the time they arrived. None of the delegates or villagers recalled seeing anyone unfamiliar. McKay fiddled with the scanner that had detected the explosive, but he couldn't narrow down the type of explosive or the location.
"You got anything?" John asked Ronon.
"No. By the time we got everyone out and the building secure, the fire was out of control."
McKay glanced up from the scanner. "Did you find any parts of the bomb?
Ronon shook his head. "Still don't understand how they got past us."
"You must've missed something."
"Like what, McKay?" Ronon snapped. "My team scoured this place when we got here and searched every trader who came through the gate."
McKay's head shot up. "Just the traders?"
"What are you thinking, Rodney?" John asked.
"What about these people?" McKay waved at the delegates sitting in clumps around them. "Did you search them?"
Ronon frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest. "You think one of the ambassadors is trying to destroy the Coalition?"
"I think anybody can be coerced." McKay took a step back, easing himself slightly behind John's shoulder. "I saw you bow to the Wraith once."
Ronon's face turned white and his jaw tightened. "Each ambassador has one of my militia guarding them at all times, except for Woolsey and Teyla. If any of them were under Wraith control, we would know by now."
"It's just one possibility. People can be bought, or they have some kind of political or religious beef."
"McKay's right." John scrubbed a hand over his face. "If it wasn't a stranger and it wasn't a villager, there's only one other option. That bomb got here somehow."
"Colonel Sheppard?" Halling approached with Chief Brin, a big man with a shock of red hair. "How is Teyla?"
"Alive," John said. "Awake, according to the update I got a little while ago."
"And her child?"
"Okay, as far as they can tell. Strong heartbeat and kicking."
Halling's exhale was long and slow, his shoulders slumping in relief. "That is good news."
"Please extend our well wishes to her, Colonel," Brin said.
"I will, Chief Brin." As John turned away, the council chief cleared his throat. "Was there something else?"
"Yes." Brin glanced at Halling, who nodded. "These attacks are growing more violent. We have been discussing possible locations for our next meeting, and we are agreed that Atlantis is the safest place we could go."
"When is the next meeting? I'll ask when we get back."
Brin arched a brow. "I understood Mr. Woolsey had been recalled to Earth and that you were in charge."
"Where did you hear that?" John asked.
"Was it a secret?"
John hid a grimace behind a smile. "No, I just wasn't aware that it was known since he wasn't scheduled to leave until a couple hours ago. I will still need to get permission from my superiors on Earth."
"I see. Please inform us once they have made a decision. Our next meeting is scheduled for three weeks from now, and as you can imagine, we have a lot of work to do."
After Brin and Halling walked away, Ronon rounded to face John, eyes tight and mouth pulled into a frown. "Why's Woolsey going back to Earth?"
"Damn IOA is jerking our chain again." John huffed as he surveyed the scene. "I don't think there's anything else we can do here. Let's get back."
Ronon stepped in front of him. "Is Atlantis going back to Earth?"
"Not if Woolsey or any of us can help it." John gripped Ronon's shoulder. "We won't abandon you, buddy."
Ronon nodded and walked toward the clump of militia monitoring the smoldering embers of the meeting hall.
"You really believe that?" McKay asked on the way to the gate.
"What?"
"That we won't abandon them. That Woolsey is going to win this fight."
John grinned. "I think Woolsey can pull it out. He has the dirt on everybody."
"And if he doesn't?"
"If he doesn't--" John shrugged. "We'll figure out something. We can't let the Wraith gain the upper hand again." He nodded to the Marines guarding the gate. "Time to go home."
"Yes, sir."
Once they were back on Atlantis, John got a high-level status update from Zelenka and then hurried to the infirmary with McKay. When they arrived, John smiled at Keller who waved them toward the private rooms. Raised voices caught his ear, and he paused at the door.
"--understand why you were there. You knew about the violent attacks. Why would you risk your life and the life of our child?"
McKay's brows shot up. "Do you think he knows who he's dealing with?" he whispered. "Maybe we should get Jennifer before Teyla rips him a new one."
"Too late," John whispered back.
Teyla's voice was calm and steady, with an edge that warned of impending doom. "Our lives are at risk every day -- from the Wraith, from viruses and poisons, from falls down stairs and undiagnosed illnesses. I have never hidden from danger, and I do not intend to start now. With Mr. Woolsey gone, I am the Lantean representative to the Coalition. I have a responsibility to Atlantis and the council."
"And what of your responsibility to our daughter? If that piece of wood had been higher--"
"It was not. I am fine, Kanaan. Our daughter is fine."
John knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. "Hey."
The careful control on Teyla's face melted to a smile. "John, Rodney, welcome. Please, enter."
"How are you feeling?" John asked as he stepped in, catching a glimpse of fury on Kanaan's face before it was buried under his usual genial expression.
"Sore." Teyla looked at her leg which was bandaged heavily and lying on a pile of pillows. "Jennifer says my leg will require several days of rest before I can walk on it again."
"Good to hear." John shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Did you see anything suspicious before the bomb went off?"
"No," Teyla said. "I remember your warning, and then I awoke here."
"And nothing seemed odd before then?" McKay asked. "Did anyone seem nervous or out of place?"
Teyla shook her head. "I saw no unfamiliar faces. Several people seemed-- unsettled, but nothing unusual for a negotiation setting. Have you no leads?"
"Not really, but we're not giving up. We'll figure out who's behind this," John said. "Brin asked to move the next meeting here. What do you think?"
"The next meeting?" Kanaan asked. "It is three weeks away."
John glanced at him in surprise. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"
"No. I am certain it is sufficient time for you and your people to prepare." The pucker in his forehead was at odds with his words, but he smiled as he slid his hand into Teyla's.
"And I am certain that if Chief Brin has determined it necessary, he will have the delegates prepared." Teyla turned to John. "If he has notice."
John grinned at her. "Consider it done." He patted her arm. "Get some rest. We'll check on you later."
While McKay headed to his lab, John went to Ops to update the SGC on Atlantis hosting the Coalition. After a lengthy discussion with Landry and O'Neill, they agreed that Atlantis was the safest location and the easiest to lockdown. No one would get a bomb through the gate without them knowing. John shared the decision with Brin, and then got a detailed status update from Zelenka who loaded him down with the day's reports and communiqus. Almost buried under the load of files -- damn Woolsey and his love of paper -- John crossed the catwalk and dropped them on Woolsey's desk.
Just one month. He had to keep the city running and intact for one month.
John slumped in the chair and picked up the first folder.
An entire month. God help him.
xxx
Rodney fought the urge to drum his fingers on the table, certain his leg would break if Jennifer kicked him one more time. The endless prep meetings for the Coalition meeting were a waste of his extremely valuable time. The city was secure. No unknown persons had been permitted to enter for over a week. The internal sensors were at maximum. Military teams had increased patrols, and Rodney's people were scouring the database for compounds that could be transformed into explosives. The other trivialities -- food, lodging, entertainment -- were somebody else's problem. He'd done his part, and he needed to get back to his real job.
"McKay!"
Rodney jumped as Sheppard's growl pulled him back to the meeting from hell. "What?"
Sheppard's head dipped forward, and for a second, a pang of remorse shot through Rodney. The past three weeks had been nonstop for all of them, but especially for Sheppard who was trying to run the city while heading up this security nightmare.
The moment ended when Sheppard tossed a pen at his head.
"Hey! I need my eyes."
Sheppard snorted. "I didn't come close to your eyes. Pay attention."
"To what? We've beaten this to death. Nobody is bringing explosives onto Atlantis. The Athosians are covering the non-critical systems, and a few of the critical, so my people can man the sensors. Soldiers and militia are everywhere. What more is there?"
"I asked for an update on the transporter recalibration."
"Oh." Rodney scrolled through Mita's status reports. "The east and south wings have been completed. We'll start on the north wing once the Coalition meeting is over."
"Good. Doctor Keller, what's new in Medical Sciences?"
Jennifer took a sip of tea and smiled apologetically. "We've got a new bug going around. So far, twelve crewmen have presented with it. Symptoms are fever, weakness, and uncontrolled vomiting which leads to severe dehydration. It hasn't responded to any medication so far. All I've been able to do is give intravenous fluids."
"The delegates arrive tomorrow, Doctor," Sheppard said. "Do we need to cancel?"
"I've got people working around the clock on it, Colonel. The sick are in quarantine. We're taking every precaution."
Sheppard turned to Teyla. "What do you think?"
"The Coalition has a great number of issues to resolve because too many meetings have been disrupted by attacks. As Doctor Keller said, the ill have been quarantined. The conditions are not perfect, but they never will be, and sickness is preferable to bombs. I believe we should continue as we have planned."
"Okay." Sheppard bit his lip and slowly nodded. "Okay. We go forward. Keller, notify me immediately if anyone takes a turn for the worse or if it keeps spreading. Teyla, contact Chief Brin about the situation and give him the option of canceling if he wishes. McKay, do a final sensor sweep before we lock down and cut the power to the unpopulated areas. I want all the extra juice for the sensors and shields." He pushed away from the table. "Ronon, with me."
Rodney gathered his tablet and coffee cup while Ronon followed Sheppard out of the conference room. Teyla eased to her feet, limping slightly on her still-healing leg, and Jennifer pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.
"Hey," Rodney said. "Are you alright?" When Jennifer gave a non-committal moan, Rodney squeezed her shoulder then pulled back in alarm. "You're burning up."
Jennifer gave him a glassy-eyed stare and a small smile. "This new illness is a real humdinger."
"I saw you, like, three hours ago at breakfast. You were fine." Rodney took a step back and looked at his hands. "Were you feeling sick then?"
"No." Jennifer stood, bracing a hand on the table for a second, and then picked up her data pad and cup. "It's crazy, Rodney. Lieutenant Jeffers came in about five minutes after Doctor Landis. Both of them presented the same."
Rodney wiped his hands on his pants, wondering how much antibacterial gel he had in his lab. "What's crazy about that?"
"Lieutenant Jeffers has been off world for a week. She got back last night and went straight to her quarters. She says she didn't bump into anyone other than her team. None of them are sick."
"It's airborne?"
Jennifer sighed as she shuffled toward the transporter. "Maybe. I don't know. Jeffers and Landis don't office or live in the same towers. I don't know how Jeffers could've been exposed. If she brought it back, how did Landis get it?"
"They must have someone or something in common."
"I know, but Landis has been holed up in her lab working on a project. She didn't come out until she felt too bad to continue. Both say symptoms started in the middle of the night. Neither went to the Mess Hall yesterday." Jennifer stepped inside the transporter, holding it open. "I'm stumped."
"You go ahead. I'll, uh--" Rodney gave a sheepish grin. "I'll catch the next one."
"Coward."
"Yep." He held up a hand. "And send me your data. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes can help."
But by the time Rodney reached his lab, chaos had broken out. The gate had gone into self-diagnostic mode, power relays at several critical junctures had short-circuited, and the hologram room was projecting the final light saber battle between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker in the gate room.
Rodney ducked as Vader's saber buzzed uncomfortably close to his head. "Who did this?"
"I have no idea," Chuck said. "I can't make it stop."
"It's kinda cool," Banks added.
"Any other day it would be cool. Not today," Rodney snapped. "I don't care if you have to pull every crystal in the room, shut that hologram down before Sheppard has a coronary." He toggled his earpiece. "Zelenka, how are those relays coming?"
"I am not yet to the corridor."
"What's taking so long?"
"The transporter sent me to the wrong building. Thought recalibration was done."
"Shit." Rodney glared at Chuck until he grabbed Banks' arm and they ran for the hologram room. "It was done. Someone started the north wing after I explicitly-- Call me when you're done."
Four hours later, Vader and Luke were gone, the relays had been replaced, and the transporter recalibration had been reset. Half the night shift called in sick, but Rodney didn't have time to deal with that since the damn gate was still down.
"How much longer?" Sheppard asked.
"The diagnostic should've ended fifteen minutes ago." Rodney stood and stretched, grimacing at the kinks causing irreparable damage to his back.
"McKay, we've got delegates scheduled to arrive in six hours."
"Don't you think I know that?" Rodney briskly rubbed his hands over his face. "Look, as soon as it--"
The chevrons flashed and the gate began to turn.
"What's it doing?" Ronon asked.
"Dialing out to update its position. It's supposed to do that." Rodney picked up his coffee cup and stared in sorrow at the brown-stained empty bottom. "I need coffee."
Mita materialized at his elbow with a fresh cup. "We have finished the sensor sweep of the uninhabited areas, Doctor." She handed him a tablet. "Here are the results."
Rodney glanced over the data. "Okay. Shut off the power to those sections."
Mita nodded and disappeared.
"Where's Zelenka?" Sheppard asked.
"Puking his guts out in his lab." Rodney slumped in his chair and took a big gulp of coffee. "Seriously, how did I survive without an assistant?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes and walked away with Ronon. Rodney scanned the monitors in Ops, satisfied that all systems were in the green. Before he could start calling in subs for the unmanned consoles, Mita and three other Athosians returned to take the positions.
"Oh, good, you're here," Rodney said, coffee cup and tablet in hand. "I'm headed to my lab to go over some data Doctor Keller sent. Call me immediately if you even suspect a system might be going down."
Mita inclined her head in that dignified Athosian way. "Of course, Doctor."
"I'll be back before the first delegate arrives."
"You do not intend to sleep?" Mita asked.
Rodney snorted a laugh as he left. "Sleep is for mortals."
When Rodney reached his lab, he sprayed every surface liberally with disinfectant and slathered antibacterial gel on his hands up to his elbows. Then he plopped down in his favorite chair, pulled up Jennifer's findings, and began to read. He took another long drink of coffee, pushing away the exhaustion that was suffocating him. Something in the data was niggling at him, but his need to sleep was overriding his need to focus.
He pushed to his feet and paced the length of the room, letting his mind go blank -- as blank as his mind could be. After several minutes, he called up the information on the main system and displayed the different data points, graphs, and slides on various monitors. He circled the room and stopped at the image of the germ under the microscope.
"What is it?" Rodney asked the alarm blaring in his head.
The alarm shrieked louder.
He walked the room again and again, always coming back to that one image.
Nothing.
Rodney huffed in disgust and stomped to a locker in the corner, programmed to his DNA alone. He rummaged through the contents until he found a chocolate bar to his liking and then slammed the door shut. He recited pi to the twenty-fifth decimal, threw darts at Kavanagh's photo, answered Madison's last three emails and sent one to Jeannie for good measure, made another pot of coffee, and checked Chuck's board for current odds on American Idol. He was halfway through the second chapter of some trashy ebook when it hit him.
Rodney scrambled back to the monitor displaying the image and called up another slide alongside it -- the plant he had aerosolized to combat Kirsan Fever.
Oh. Dear. God.
The same tag on the pictures leaped out at him. Whatever this new bug was, someone had purposefully manipulated it into an aerosol version. Which meant this wasn't some random illness making the rounds. Someone was making them sick. Again.
Rodney dashed to the monitor showing Jennifer's timeline and probable incubation period. Then he pulled up a diagram of the city's ventilation system and plotted the whereabouts of the infected, narrowing it down to three possible intake areas. Then he called up the security footage of those areas and ran them backward from the time the first case presented, pausing each time someone came into frame.
An hour ticked by. Then another.
Finally, he found it -- the smoking gun, the terrorist who was making them sick.
Rodney rewound the footage, his jaw dropping at the familiar face opening the intake and placing a container inside.
"Why?" he whispered.
"He did what was necessary for our plan, Doctor." Mita stepped inside, a stunner pointed at Rodney's head.
"You've got a hell of a sense of timing."
"I have been monitoring your system access. Once you began reviewing security footage, I knew you would probably discover us. Still, I hoped--"
"You're one of the terrorists, too?"
Mita shook her head sadly. "There are no terrorists," she said, and fired.
Onward to part 3
Author: wildcat88
Genre: Friendship
Prompt: Terrorism
Word Count: ~17,500
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Atlantis must pick up the pieces after returning to Pegasus from an extended absence in the Milky Way. However, reclaiming their place in the Coalition will not be easy. The galaxy has changed, and not every change is visible.
Back to part 1
The blast knocked John over a table and into the wall. Ears ringing, he staggered to his feet and shook his head to clear it.
"Sheppard!" Ronon grabbed his arm to help steady him. "You okay?"
John wiped at the warm trickle on his face, his hand coming away stained bright red. "Yeah. What-- Oh, God."
The meeting hall was a disaster -- paper and dust particles floated in the air, splintered wood was embedded in the walls and floor, and several people were lying on the ground, blood pooling around them.
"Teyla!"
While Ronon shouted orders to his militia, John raced to Teyla's side. She was face down, unconscious, a shard of what used to be a table sticking out of her thigh. He checked her pulse -- slow and steady - and ran a hand down her neck and spine, not feeling anything unusual but not wanting to take chances.
"I need some help here!"
Ronon appeared at his side. "Is she breathing?"
"Yeah, but she's bleeding pretty bad."
"Specialist Dex!" A teenage girl dashed up. "A fire has started." She gestured toward the far side of the hall where smoke was billowing from an interior room.
"Damn it. Get everyone out," Ronon ordered, kneeling down. "We've got to move her, Sheppard."
John's radio clicked. "Gate's secure, Colonel," Morrison reported.
"Dial home, Lieutenant. Tell them we need as much medical assistance as we can get. And let Keller know I'm bringing Teyla to her."
"Will do, sir."
John scooped Teyla in his arms and headed toward the gate, forcing himself to move slowly, his cargo too precious to risk a stumble. Behind him, he heard Ronon organizing the movement of the wounded to safety by one of his units and the systematic sweep of the building by another, while villagers hurried to protect their town from the nearby flames.
Thankfully, the gate was on the outskirts of the village. John stepped through, knowing the medical team waiting for them would put the color back in Teyla's face. As he anticipated, nurses swarmed them when they emerged. He laid Teyla on her side, careful not to touch the shard. A handful of them rushed toward the infirmary. The rest turned to him with expectant faces.
"There was an explosion." John glanced up to find Woolsey on the catwalk, his face ashen. "At least ten others injured."
Doctor Gardner nodded. "We'll take care of them."
John stared down the hallway where Teyla had been taken and then looked to Chuck. "Dial it up."
McKay hurried up, tac vest in one hand, tablet in the other. "What happened?"
"Bomb."
"Bomb?" McKay shrugged on the vest and followed John through the gate. "How did a bomb get past security?"
John shoved back the rage boiling in his chest. "I don't know. Yet. I've had a team there since yesterday and Ronon's been there for a week. We checked every person in that village."
"Teyla?"
"Keller's working on her. She seemed stable."
"And the baby?"
John slowed, biting his lip as he glanced at McKay. "I don't know, Rodney. It was a pretty hard blast. I don't know what kind of internal damage it could have caused."
McKay busied himself with his tablet. "I'll figure out who's responsible."
But hours of work yielded nothing. The building had burned almost to the ground by the time they arrived. None of the delegates or villagers recalled seeing anyone unfamiliar. McKay fiddled with the scanner that had detected the explosive, but he couldn't narrow down the type of explosive or the location.
"You got anything?" John asked Ronon.
"No. By the time we got everyone out and the building secure, the fire was out of control."
McKay glanced up from the scanner. "Did you find any parts of the bomb?
Ronon shook his head. "Still don't understand how they got past us."
"You must've missed something."
"Like what, McKay?" Ronon snapped. "My team scoured this place when we got here and searched every trader who came through the gate."
McKay's head shot up. "Just the traders?"
"What are you thinking, Rodney?" John asked.
"What about these people?" McKay waved at the delegates sitting in clumps around them. "Did you search them?"
Ronon frowned at him, folding his arms over his chest. "You think one of the ambassadors is trying to destroy the Coalition?"
"I think anybody can be coerced." McKay took a step back, easing himself slightly behind John's shoulder. "I saw you bow to the Wraith once."
Ronon's face turned white and his jaw tightened. "Each ambassador has one of my militia guarding them at all times, except for Woolsey and Teyla. If any of them were under Wraith control, we would know by now."
"It's just one possibility. People can be bought, or they have some kind of political or religious beef."
"McKay's right." John scrubbed a hand over his face. "If it wasn't a stranger and it wasn't a villager, there's only one other option. That bomb got here somehow."
"Colonel Sheppard?" Halling approached with Chief Brin, a big man with a shock of red hair. "How is Teyla?"
"Alive," John said. "Awake, according to the update I got a little while ago."
"And her child?"
"Okay, as far as they can tell. Strong heartbeat and kicking."
Halling's exhale was long and slow, his shoulders slumping in relief. "That is good news."
"Please extend our well wishes to her, Colonel," Brin said.
"I will, Chief Brin." As John turned away, the council chief cleared his throat. "Was there something else?"
"Yes." Brin glanced at Halling, who nodded. "These attacks are growing more violent. We have been discussing possible locations for our next meeting, and we are agreed that Atlantis is the safest place we could go."
"When is the next meeting? I'll ask when we get back."
Brin arched a brow. "I understood Mr. Woolsey had been recalled to Earth and that you were in charge."
"Where did you hear that?" John asked.
"Was it a secret?"
John hid a grimace behind a smile. "No, I just wasn't aware that it was known since he wasn't scheduled to leave until a couple hours ago. I will still need to get permission from my superiors on Earth."
"I see. Please inform us once they have made a decision. Our next meeting is scheduled for three weeks from now, and as you can imagine, we have a lot of work to do."
After Brin and Halling walked away, Ronon rounded to face John, eyes tight and mouth pulled into a frown. "Why's Woolsey going back to Earth?"
"Damn IOA is jerking our chain again." John huffed as he surveyed the scene. "I don't think there's anything else we can do here. Let's get back."
Ronon stepped in front of him. "Is Atlantis going back to Earth?"
"Not if Woolsey or any of us can help it." John gripped Ronon's shoulder. "We won't abandon you, buddy."
Ronon nodded and walked toward the clump of militia monitoring the smoldering embers of the meeting hall.
"You really believe that?" McKay asked on the way to the gate.
"What?"
"That we won't abandon them. That Woolsey is going to win this fight."
John grinned. "I think Woolsey can pull it out. He has the dirt on everybody."
"And if he doesn't?"
"If he doesn't--" John shrugged. "We'll figure out something. We can't let the Wraith gain the upper hand again." He nodded to the Marines guarding the gate. "Time to go home."
"Yes, sir."
Once they were back on Atlantis, John got a high-level status update from Zelenka and then hurried to the infirmary with McKay. When they arrived, John smiled at Keller who waved them toward the private rooms. Raised voices caught his ear, and he paused at the door.
"--understand why you were there. You knew about the violent attacks. Why would you risk your life and the life of our child?"
McKay's brows shot up. "Do you think he knows who he's dealing with?" he whispered. "Maybe we should get Jennifer before Teyla rips him a new one."
"Too late," John whispered back.
Teyla's voice was calm and steady, with an edge that warned of impending doom. "Our lives are at risk every day -- from the Wraith, from viruses and poisons, from falls down stairs and undiagnosed illnesses. I have never hidden from danger, and I do not intend to start now. With Mr. Woolsey gone, I am the Lantean representative to the Coalition. I have a responsibility to Atlantis and the council."
"And what of your responsibility to our daughter? If that piece of wood had been higher--"
"It was not. I am fine, Kanaan. Our daughter is fine."
John knocked on the door and stuck his head inside. "Hey."
The careful control on Teyla's face melted to a smile. "John, Rodney, welcome. Please, enter."
"How are you feeling?" John asked as he stepped in, catching a glimpse of fury on Kanaan's face before it was buried under his usual genial expression.
"Sore." Teyla looked at her leg which was bandaged heavily and lying on a pile of pillows. "Jennifer says my leg will require several days of rest before I can walk on it again."
"Good to hear." John shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "Did you see anything suspicious before the bomb went off?"
"No," Teyla said. "I remember your warning, and then I awoke here."
"And nothing seemed odd before then?" McKay asked. "Did anyone seem nervous or out of place?"
Teyla shook her head. "I saw no unfamiliar faces. Several people seemed-- unsettled, but nothing unusual for a negotiation setting. Have you no leads?"
"Not really, but we're not giving up. We'll figure out who's behind this," John said. "Brin asked to move the next meeting here. What do you think?"
"The next meeting?" Kanaan asked. "It is three weeks away."
John glanced at him in surprise. "Yeah. Is that a problem?"
"No. I am certain it is sufficient time for you and your people to prepare." The pucker in his forehead was at odds with his words, but he smiled as he slid his hand into Teyla's.
"And I am certain that if Chief Brin has determined it necessary, he will have the delegates prepared." Teyla turned to John. "If he has notice."
John grinned at her. "Consider it done." He patted her arm. "Get some rest. We'll check on you later."
While McKay headed to his lab, John went to Ops to update the SGC on Atlantis hosting the Coalition. After a lengthy discussion with Landry and O'Neill, they agreed that Atlantis was the safest location and the easiest to lockdown. No one would get a bomb through the gate without them knowing. John shared the decision with Brin, and then got a detailed status update from Zelenka who loaded him down with the day's reports and communiqus. Almost buried under the load of files -- damn Woolsey and his love of paper -- John crossed the catwalk and dropped them on Woolsey's desk.
Just one month. He had to keep the city running and intact for one month.
John slumped in the chair and picked up the first folder.
An entire month. God help him.
xxx
Rodney fought the urge to drum his fingers on the table, certain his leg would break if Jennifer kicked him one more time. The endless prep meetings for the Coalition meeting were a waste of his extremely valuable time. The city was secure. No unknown persons had been permitted to enter for over a week. The internal sensors were at maximum. Military teams had increased patrols, and Rodney's people were scouring the database for compounds that could be transformed into explosives. The other trivialities -- food, lodging, entertainment -- were somebody else's problem. He'd done his part, and he needed to get back to his real job.
"McKay!"
Rodney jumped as Sheppard's growl pulled him back to the meeting from hell. "What?"
Sheppard's head dipped forward, and for a second, a pang of remorse shot through Rodney. The past three weeks had been nonstop for all of them, but especially for Sheppard who was trying to run the city while heading up this security nightmare.
The moment ended when Sheppard tossed a pen at his head.
"Hey! I need my eyes."
Sheppard snorted. "I didn't come close to your eyes. Pay attention."
"To what? We've beaten this to death. Nobody is bringing explosives onto Atlantis. The Athosians are covering the non-critical systems, and a few of the critical, so my people can man the sensors. Soldiers and militia are everywhere. What more is there?"
"I asked for an update on the transporter recalibration."
"Oh." Rodney scrolled through Mita's status reports. "The east and south wings have been completed. We'll start on the north wing once the Coalition meeting is over."
"Good. Doctor Keller, what's new in Medical Sciences?"
Jennifer took a sip of tea and smiled apologetically. "We've got a new bug going around. So far, twelve crewmen have presented with it. Symptoms are fever, weakness, and uncontrolled vomiting which leads to severe dehydration. It hasn't responded to any medication so far. All I've been able to do is give intravenous fluids."
"The delegates arrive tomorrow, Doctor," Sheppard said. "Do we need to cancel?"
"I've got people working around the clock on it, Colonel. The sick are in quarantine. We're taking every precaution."
Sheppard turned to Teyla. "What do you think?"
"The Coalition has a great number of issues to resolve because too many meetings have been disrupted by attacks. As Doctor Keller said, the ill have been quarantined. The conditions are not perfect, but they never will be, and sickness is preferable to bombs. I believe we should continue as we have planned."
"Okay." Sheppard bit his lip and slowly nodded. "Okay. We go forward. Keller, notify me immediately if anyone takes a turn for the worse or if it keeps spreading. Teyla, contact Chief Brin about the situation and give him the option of canceling if he wishes. McKay, do a final sensor sweep before we lock down and cut the power to the unpopulated areas. I want all the extra juice for the sensors and shields." He pushed away from the table. "Ronon, with me."
Rodney gathered his tablet and coffee cup while Ronon followed Sheppard out of the conference room. Teyla eased to her feet, limping slightly on her still-healing leg, and Jennifer pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes.
"Hey," Rodney said. "Are you alright?" When Jennifer gave a non-committal moan, Rodney squeezed her shoulder then pulled back in alarm. "You're burning up."
Jennifer gave him a glassy-eyed stare and a small smile. "This new illness is a real humdinger."
"I saw you, like, three hours ago at breakfast. You were fine." Rodney took a step back and looked at his hands. "Were you feeling sick then?"
"No." Jennifer stood, bracing a hand on the table for a second, and then picked up her data pad and cup. "It's crazy, Rodney. Lieutenant Jeffers came in about five minutes after Doctor Landis. Both of them presented the same."
Rodney wiped his hands on his pants, wondering how much antibacterial gel he had in his lab. "What's crazy about that?"
"Lieutenant Jeffers has been off world for a week. She got back last night and went straight to her quarters. She says she didn't bump into anyone other than her team. None of them are sick."
"It's airborne?"
Jennifer sighed as she shuffled toward the transporter. "Maybe. I don't know. Jeffers and Landis don't office or live in the same towers. I don't know how Jeffers could've been exposed. If she brought it back, how did Landis get it?"
"They must have someone or something in common."
"I know, but Landis has been holed up in her lab working on a project. She didn't come out until she felt too bad to continue. Both say symptoms started in the middle of the night. Neither went to the Mess Hall yesterday." Jennifer stepped inside the transporter, holding it open. "I'm stumped."
"You go ahead. I'll, uh--" Rodney gave a sheepish grin. "I'll catch the next one."
"Coward."
"Yep." He held up a hand. "And send me your data. Maybe a fresh pair of eyes can help."
But by the time Rodney reached his lab, chaos had broken out. The gate had gone into self-diagnostic mode, power relays at several critical junctures had short-circuited, and the hologram room was projecting the final light saber battle between Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker in the gate room.
Rodney ducked as Vader's saber buzzed uncomfortably close to his head. "Who did this?"
"I have no idea," Chuck said. "I can't make it stop."
"It's kinda cool," Banks added.
"Any other day it would be cool. Not today," Rodney snapped. "I don't care if you have to pull every crystal in the room, shut that hologram down before Sheppard has a coronary." He toggled his earpiece. "Zelenka, how are those relays coming?"
"I am not yet to the corridor."
"What's taking so long?"
"The transporter sent me to the wrong building. Thought recalibration was done."
"Shit." Rodney glared at Chuck until he grabbed Banks' arm and they ran for the hologram room. "It was done. Someone started the north wing after I explicitly-- Call me when you're done."
Four hours later, Vader and Luke were gone, the relays had been replaced, and the transporter recalibration had been reset. Half the night shift called in sick, but Rodney didn't have time to deal with that since the damn gate was still down.
"How much longer?" Sheppard asked.
"The diagnostic should've ended fifteen minutes ago." Rodney stood and stretched, grimacing at the kinks causing irreparable damage to his back.
"McKay, we've got delegates scheduled to arrive in six hours."
"Don't you think I know that?" Rodney briskly rubbed his hands over his face. "Look, as soon as it--"
The chevrons flashed and the gate began to turn.
"What's it doing?" Ronon asked.
"Dialing out to update its position. It's supposed to do that." Rodney picked up his coffee cup and stared in sorrow at the brown-stained empty bottom. "I need coffee."
Mita materialized at his elbow with a fresh cup. "We have finished the sensor sweep of the uninhabited areas, Doctor." She handed him a tablet. "Here are the results."
Rodney glanced over the data. "Okay. Shut off the power to those sections."
Mita nodded and disappeared.
"Where's Zelenka?" Sheppard asked.
"Puking his guts out in his lab." Rodney slumped in his chair and took a big gulp of coffee. "Seriously, how did I survive without an assistant?"
Sheppard rolled his eyes and walked away with Ronon. Rodney scanned the monitors in Ops, satisfied that all systems were in the green. Before he could start calling in subs for the unmanned consoles, Mita and three other Athosians returned to take the positions.
"Oh, good, you're here," Rodney said, coffee cup and tablet in hand. "I'm headed to my lab to go over some data Doctor Keller sent. Call me immediately if you even suspect a system might be going down."
Mita inclined her head in that dignified Athosian way. "Of course, Doctor."
"I'll be back before the first delegate arrives."
"You do not intend to sleep?" Mita asked.
Rodney snorted a laugh as he left. "Sleep is for mortals."
When Rodney reached his lab, he sprayed every surface liberally with disinfectant and slathered antibacterial gel on his hands up to his elbows. Then he plopped down in his favorite chair, pulled up Jennifer's findings, and began to read. He took another long drink of coffee, pushing away the exhaustion that was suffocating him. Something in the data was niggling at him, but his need to sleep was overriding his need to focus.
He pushed to his feet and paced the length of the room, letting his mind go blank -- as blank as his mind could be. After several minutes, he called up the information on the main system and displayed the different data points, graphs, and slides on various monitors. He circled the room and stopped at the image of the germ under the microscope.
"What is it?" Rodney asked the alarm blaring in his head.
The alarm shrieked louder.
He walked the room again and again, always coming back to that one image.
Nothing.
Rodney huffed in disgust and stomped to a locker in the corner, programmed to his DNA alone. He rummaged through the contents until he found a chocolate bar to his liking and then slammed the door shut. He recited pi to the twenty-fifth decimal, threw darts at Kavanagh's photo, answered Madison's last three emails and sent one to Jeannie for good measure, made another pot of coffee, and checked Chuck's board for current odds on American Idol. He was halfway through the second chapter of some trashy ebook when it hit him.
Rodney scrambled back to the monitor displaying the image and called up another slide alongside it -- the plant he had aerosolized to combat Kirsan Fever.
Oh. Dear. God.
The same tag on the pictures leaped out at him. Whatever this new bug was, someone had purposefully manipulated it into an aerosol version. Which meant this wasn't some random illness making the rounds. Someone was making them sick. Again.
Rodney dashed to the monitor showing Jennifer's timeline and probable incubation period. Then he pulled up a diagram of the city's ventilation system and plotted the whereabouts of the infected, narrowing it down to three possible intake areas. Then he called up the security footage of those areas and ran them backward from the time the first case presented, pausing each time someone came into frame.
An hour ticked by. Then another.
Finally, he found it -- the smoking gun, the terrorist who was making them sick.
Rodney rewound the footage, his jaw dropping at the familiar face opening the intake and placing a container inside.
"Why?" he whispered.
"He did what was necessary for our plan, Doctor." Mita stepped inside, a stunner pointed at Rodney's head.
"You've got a hell of a sense of timing."
"I have been monitoring your system access. Once you began reviewing security footage, I knew you would probably discover us. Still, I hoped--"
"You're one of the terrorists, too?"
Mita shook her head sadly. "There are no terrorists," she said, and fired.
Onward to part 3