Doors and Windows
"Rodney!" Shouting over the din of screams and gunshots, Sheppard yanked on McKay's collar, bringing him to the floor next to him with a hard thump that made McKay open his mouth to complain. Sheppard's finger in his face shut him up quickly enough though. "What the fuck did she say? And where is she?"
"How the hell should I know?" McKay's voice was half an octave higher than normal, and he clambered from his sprawled position to huddle against a half of the tipped over conference table. "I don't speak whatever it is that these people speak! I'm not even supposed to be here!" The back cushion of the nearest chair exploded as it was hit with a spray of bullets, causing McKay to hunch into himself even more.
Sheppard threw McKay a look of exasperation, the special one he kept just for him, and took a few pot shots at one of the foreign delegates' guards, surprising himself when he actually hit one. "Nothing? That Mensa brain of yours you keep harping on didn't pick up any phrases? Christ, Rodney, way to go."
"Shut up! I deal in hard science, not that soft socio-language crap Jackson is into." A body fell in front of him, in the exact place Sheppard had pulled him down to a moment before. McKay skittered back, and Sheppard watched the play of emotions on his face. Revulsion at the corpse, horror that it might be one of theirs, then relief at the realization it wasn't. Grimacing, McKay cautiously reached out with a foot and toed the body until it rolled over, facing away from the pair. "I really do not want to die!"
"Me neither, Rodney." Listening to the gunfire, Sheppard popped his head and shoulders up over the table and shot off three quick rounds before ducking back down again. Amazed, he watched as McKay reached out for the dead guard's firearm and shot it, unseeing, back over the top of his head.
The noise immediately stopped, and perplexed, McKay gazed down at the weapon in his hand, then back up at Sheppard. "Did… did I do that?"
"If we're lucky," Sheppard muttered back. Another quick look over the table brought him face to face with the captain of the delegates' guard. "Easy there!" Lifting his gun, John jumped to his feet and backed slowly away, making sure he didn't step on McKay who was scrambling to stay behind him.
The captain spread his arms wide, empty palms up to show he was unarmed. "They are all dead." Serenely he stood there as Sheppard came around the table.
"What, all your guys?" A quick head count affirmed the fact that yes, the two delegates and the three other guards were dead. Sheppard glared suspiciously at the captain. "And how come you're speaking English?"
"It was only the jingoistic Malaten that insisted on speaking our language," the captain replied, with a nod toward the dead leader of the contingent.
Hauling himself to his feet, McKay pointedly kept his eyes from the bodies. "Where's Elizabeth?"
"Your leader is dead also."
Moments ticked by as Sheppard and McKay only stared at the captain. "Dead?" they both asked at the same time.
"She was killed by Malaten as she tried to calm him."
"After the shooting started," McKay said almost to himself, thinking back. He looked up at Sheppard. "I saw her go down, but I just thought she was taking cover. Where is she?" he repeated.
"Here." Picking their way over the dead bodies, and only now did Sheppard see that some were Atlantis crew, the captain moved the other half of the table aside to show them Weir, lying on her back with a gaping hole in her chest. Sheppard grimaced, and McKay swallowed convulsively a few times.
"Better get Carson down here," Sheppard sighed.
"You think she's still alive?"
McKay's comment drew another exasperated glare from Sheppard before he toggled his earpiece on. "Sheppard to Beckett, we need a medical team in Conference room twelve."
Beckett's voice came back thin over the ether. "Do I need anything in particular, Colonel?"
"'Bout half dozen body bags," Sheppard tossed back.
"What? We'll be right there."
Having been crouched over his men during the exchange, arranging their bodies and closing their eyes, the captain stood. "A most regrettable outcome."
His hackles rising, Sheppard got in close to him. "You don't sound like it."
The captain shrugged. "I am glad Malaten is dead, that is true. He was nothing but trouble in the Council, along with his lackey."
"And your men?" asked Sheppard.
"We are soldiers," the captain simply said.
"But what about Elizabeth?" McKay nearly shouted, coming to stand next to Sheppard.
"As I said, regrettable."
Sheppard nudged McKay in the ribs as the other man was about to continue.
"I will take my dead back to our world, and let my government decide on what to do next," the captain said as rapid footsteps were heard in the hall.
"Yeah, what to do next," Sheppard echoed, looking at Weir's still form, visions of finally being able to kick some Wraith ass filling his mind. "What to do next."