Chapter Two – A New Threat

The blonde haired woman descended from the Daedalus to Atlantis' pier. Taking a deep breath, she enjoyed the freshness of the air after having to endure a recycled version for the last eighteen days. Taking a moment, she watched the bustling that was going on around her, as supplies were taken off the ship and other new personnel, like herself, carried their luggage to what was to be their new home.

She wondered briefly if she would see any of the faces she had encountered during her assignment to the security detail in Antarctica, at the Ancient outpost. At least it would be warmer here, but there was one face from that time she knew she wouldn't see.

While posted in that barren wasteland, she had found the one person she felt she could have settled down with, who could have been the father of her children. But he had come to this place and died protecting it. He shouldn't have died. His boss, she refused to call him his superior, should have died instead. He should never have left Atlantis, he was a scientist, not a soldier, and should never have gone anywhere near the line of fire.

It had taken a lot of manipulating and manoeuvring, which had taken time and effort to achieve, to get here. But that gave her time; time to work out what she would do, how she would make him pay for her beloved's death. Time to gain knowledge and equipment, so that she could bring about the demise of the person who had made her suffer, left her feeling so desolate. It was only that thought, of avenging his death, that had kept her going.

No one looking at her would realise that the thought of murder was going through her head. She had even fooled the psych evaluation with her calm smile and even voice. To the outside world, she looked like just another marine, here for a tour of duty.

Moving forward once more, she joined the others queuing to speak to the quartermaster to get her room assignment.

And then she went into a city that she found both beautiful and full of pain; pain that her beloved wasn't here.


A few days later, Jim and Sergeant Stackhouse were patrolling the main living area in the city, with Stackhouse pointing out the various rooms and areas to him. As they moved down a new corridor, Jim saw McKay heading towards them from the opposite end, though he stopped outside a set of doors before reaching them.

"Hi. Those your quarters?" Jim asked, as he and the sergeant got closer.

"Hmm, yes, of course they are," Rodney snapped back as the doors opened, before noticing who had spoken to him and stopping before entering his room. "Oh, I see Sheppard's got you doing patrol. Hurray for you," Rodney said dryly.

"He thought it would be a good way to memorise the city layout."

"Yes, I can see that would work. Still, a waste of your skills if you ask me." Rodney looked awkward for a moment, clearly unsure of what to say next. Jim had noticed that McKay seemed easier around him when Blair was there. "Um, so, how are you settling in? Blair seems to be doing alright." Rodney grinned suddenly, shaking his head. "He's in anthropologist heaven here."

"Making my life hell," Jim agreed with a smile. "All I'm hearing is 'did you know that this culture does this, or that that culture does that, and this other culture does this other thing', it's almost enough to drive a person to homicide." He rolled his eyes expressively. "He'll settle down in a bit. It's actually nice to see him excited about the academic side of things again."

"Well, I'm glad it's not just me he's boring with this stuff. I mean, what do I need to know about such and such races' narrative history? Unless it mentions the Ancients, and then it's usually in a useless way. Never there's this Ancient outpost or machine or ZPM left behind."

"Didn't I hear that you nearly got yourself married by accident a few weeks ago?" Stackhouse mentioned casually, causing Rodney to glare at him. Something that had no effect on the young sergeant after all this time.

"Yes, well, maybe some knowledge of local customs can come in handy now and then," Rodney muttered sourly. "And just how do you know about that, Sergeant?"

"That would be telling, sir."

"Yes, of course it would. Why did I even bother asking?"

"So how did it happen?" Jim asked lightly, causing himself to receive a glare from McKay as well. He was stalling as he'd detected a smell that seemed out of place and was trying to work out what it was.

"That hardly matters right now. Besides, shouldn't you be patrolling the corridors not getting in my way?"

"True." Jim frowned. "Do you normally keep C4 in your quarters, McKay?"

"What? What are you talking about? Of course I don't keep C4 in my quarters. What do you think I am? An idiot?"

"No, but I can definitely smell C4 in your quarters." Jim moved to look into McKay's room but stopped when something caught his eye. Looking closely he could just make out a faint light beam across the lower half of the doorway against he dimness of McKay's room. "Damn."

"What?" McKay's voice rose an octave.

"There's a beam here," he said, indicating its location without breaking the beam. "I wouldn't have seen if it the lights had been on in your room. Good job today is overcast as well."

"Why would there be C4 and an invisible beam in my… Oh shit, you mean someone's trying to kill me!" McKay's voice rose another octave or two, as he backed away from his quarters a few feet.

Stackhouse reported to Sheppard about Jim's discovery, being one of the few who had been entrusted at this time with the sentinel's secret, while Jim carefully scrutinised McKay's quarters from the doorway.

"Colonel Sheppard is on his way down and a bomb disposal team should be here soon as well," the sergeant reported.

"McKay?" They heard over their headsets. "You okay?"

"What the hell do you think, Sheppard?" McKay snapped back. "Someone's trying to kill me, of course I'm not okay! Whatever could possess you to think I'd be okay with that?"

"McKay…"

"I mean, I'm sure you military types can just shake off the fact that someone is trying to kill you like it was nothing…"

"MCKAY!"

"What? There's no need to shout, Sheppard."

"I'll be there in a minute. Try not to have a breakdown before I get there," Sheppard said with a hint of exasperation.

"Fine, fine, I'll wait until you get here then, shall I?" McKay replied sarcastically.

"Yes, you do that."

While Rodney had been talking to Sheppard, Jim couldn't help but hear his rapid heartbeats and see the light perspiration forming on his forehead.

"You okay?" When Rodney glared at him in response Jim smiled. "Okay, stupid question. Stackhouse, can you clear the corridor and rooms around here? If possible cordon it off. We don't want any unwary civilians wandering in this direction."

"Yes, sir."

"Oh crap, this is…" Rodney took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I just wanted to get my PDA from my quarters. I was working on something earlier but was called away to deal with yet another, fortunately minor, crisis in the labs, and thought I'd pick it up and work on it over lunch…I wasn't expecting to come close to being blown up!"

"Take it easy, McKay…"

"You come close to being blown up and then you can tell me to take it easy!" Rodney retorted.

"Actually, I've come close to it more than once," Jim said with a wry smile. "And you need to try and calm down. Panicking won't help any."

"You try not panicking! Oh crap…if you hadn't been here to distract me, hadn't smelt the C4 or seen the light beam…" Rodney suddenly quieted as the implications hit him. "Ah, I suppose I should say thanks… So, thanks, you know…"

"No problem."

"Hey, Rodney," John called as he approached. "How you're doing?"

"Oh just dandy, it's not like someone just tried to kill me or anything! What the hell, it's not bad enough the Wraith, Replicators and other assorted other bad guys in this galaxy are trying to kill me without someone on base trying to as well? Why would someone here want to kill me?"

"Couldn't possibly imagine," John said dryly.

"Oh, right, fine! Just mock the guy who almost died here, why don't you? What, have I got a damned bulls eye hanging over me or something?"

"McKay, settle down."

"No, no, I won't settle down…"

"Sir, the bomb disposal team is here," Stackhouse said, interrupting McKay's rant.

"Okay. Sergeant, take McKay to the guest quarters while we deal with the problem, and keep alert," John ordered.

"What? Oh no, no, no, no, you're not squirreling me away somewhere…"

"Rodney, it's for your own protection. I'll keep you informed of what we find."

"But…"

"No buts. I don't want whoever did this to get another chance at you, okay?"

"Fine," Rodney said, sighing resignedly. "Just…be careful, and you'd better keep me informed."


Sheppard had sent the bomb disposal crew into McKay's room, but had been called away by Dr Weir, leaving Jim in charge.

He watched the crew carefully step over the beam as they entered the room. Even though he was standing down the corridor, he could hear every sound, every careful move they were making.

"Hi, Jim. Just heard. Is Rodney alright?" Blair's worried voice interrupted him.

"He's fine, but I'm trying to listen here."

"Oh, right, shutting up in that case," Blair replied, reaching out to ground Jim, who pushed his hearing again and listened in as the wires were cut and the timer deactivated.

"Phew! Done it. Could have been dodgy. Look's to be done by someone who knows what they're doing, but not a pro. Too much C4 and no trips. Thank goodness for small mercies," said the British-sounding voice of a very relieved Bomb Squad Captain.

Turning his hearing down, he looked at Sandburg.

"Want to see a bomb close up?" He didn't wait for Blair's reply, knowing that he would follow him anyway, and he wanted to get in before the bomb was moved.

Entering the room, he noticed the organised chaos inside. It reminded him of Blair and how one of his 'projects' had once engulfed the loft, and he, Jim, had only be away for a weekend seminar at that. It had taken Blair over a week to fully tidy up a weekend's mess. This room looked as though it would take months to put into any kind of order, so it was hard to work out if the bomber had moved or touched anything.

Bending down, he looked at the bomb, being careful not to touch it.

"Is it safe to move it?" he asked the Captain. "I'd like it taken to a lab, or somewhere where the light is better."

"Yeah, it's should be safe enough now that the detonator has been removed. C4 is actually very difficult to make explode. I'll have the lads take it to a lab on the floor below for you to check over."

"Thanks."

Jim watched as the bomb was placed in a thick metal container and picked up by two soldiers.

He wondered briefly if he should send Blair back to play with the other anthropologists, even though the C4 was deemed safe, but admitted to himself that his friend's presence would make the examination of the bomb go that much easier. Also, he thought to himself with a small grin, it was a well established fact that Blair was nosier than a cat outside a fish factory.

Looking around the room once more, and wishing he had a crime squad with him to catalogue everything and dust for fingerprints, he reluctantly followed the soldiers and the box out of the room.

One lift ride and a corridor later, the soldiers entered a small lab with a table in the middle of it. It was unusually bright for the normal city lighting, due to the addition of several Earth lamps, and the glare from the lights made everything appear stark. The soldiers placed the deactivated bomb onto the table and moved back.

"Okay, I'm going to need a few things," Jim said.

"How about a camera and some tools?" Sheppard's voice came from the doorway, and Jim smiled at him in reply.

"How's Rodney?" Blair immediately asked the colonel.

"You know Rodney. Freaking out. And asking why he can't be confined in a lab, where he can at least get some work done. The usual." Sheppard shrugged, trying, and succeeding to a some extent, to appear unruffled by the attempt on his team-mate's life. "So, this is the bomb that tried to blow him up?"

The next half hour was spent photographing and writing down what they found. The detonator appeared to come from China, though the laser beam used to trigger it was made from mainly American parts.

Jim checked out the C4, hoping to be able to pick out some fingerprints, but whoever had made the bomb hadn't left any such marks. However, something else caught his eye.

"Pass me the tweezers, Sandburg."

"What have you found?"

Jim didn't reply, concentrating on the C4 instead.

Hidden under a wire that had run from the detonator to the laser beam sensor, and stuck to the C4, was a short blond hair. Carefully extracting it and being careful not to touch it, he dropped it into a Ziploc bag, which Blair was holding open.

Knowing that blond hair is not the easiest to see, Jim returned his attention to the bomb. After a short while he was rewarded with another hair that was trapped in the C4 where the detonator had been. This was added to the other one in the bag.

"Okay, I think we've got everything we can. And for everything else there's the photographs. I'll type up a report for you."

"Good," John answered. "Elizabeth's arranged a meeting at 1300."

"We'll see you there then," Jim assured him.


At the arranged time, Elizabeth was waiting in the conference room to discuss the attempt on Rodney's life, as well as an upcoming mission. Jim and Blair arrived first, both looking worried, and were soon joined by Ronon and Teyla. They murmured a few words to each other as they waited.

A few minutes later, John followed a clearly very rattled, but also more worriedly, a quiet Rodney into the room. She cast a concerned look to John, who merely shook his head. Obviously he thought it best to leave well alone for now, and that he would handle it later if need be. They all knew that a quiet Rodney, when not immersed in technology, of course, was usually a bad sign.

"Okay, so what do we have so far?" she asked.

"Well, the bomb was made up of C4 and there was a light beam across the door to trigger the detonator. I've got Lorne checking all our C4 supplies to see if any is missing, but so far it's looking like whoever did this got it on Earth before coming here," John reported. "If that proves to be the case, then he could have gotten it anywhere, though it's still worth letting the SGC know. They might be able to trace the source." He shrugged, not expecting much from that angle of investigation.

"How easy would it be for someone to smuggle the C4 here?"

"Not that hard if you know what you're doing it would seem," Rodney stated bitterly.

"McKay…" John drawled.

"No, obviously we need better security procedures somewhere along the line if that's the case…"

"And we will be looking into that," Elizabeth interrupted. "Have the security cameras picked anything up?"

"No, there was a glitch in the system and the feed was lost for half an hour. At least we know when the bomb was planted, if nothing else," John answered.

"I've got Radek checking that out," Rodney said. "See if we can stop another 'glitch' from happening in the future. I'd be looking into myself if I hadn't been corralled into the guest quarters for the last hour or so…"

"And you can look over his shoulder and criticise to your heart's content later," John said with a small smirk. "So long as someone is there to watch your back." He turned his attention back to the matter in hand. "Ellison found a couple of hairs trapped in the C4. Blonde and short."

"Right, and that narrows it down such a lot."

"Yes, Rodney, it does. Whoever it was has short, blonde hair and that cuts out quite a few suspects."

"So long as whoever it was is working alone," Rodney pointed out.

"He has a point," Jim said. "We can't assume it was one person, or even that McKay is the only target. This could be a personal vendetta, or something more."

"Yeah, didn't we hear something about an alien infested group on Earth who tried to destroy Atlantis not long back?" Blair asked. "Could they be trying to remove key personnel prior to another attack?"

"Oh crap. You mean it might not just be me? And when I say 'just', I mean it in an apocalyptic for Atlantis sort of way. It's not bad enough that someone's after me without them going after my fr… my colleagues as well!"

Elizabeth hid her smile at Rodney's stumble, as if they didn't already know he thought of them as friends, before turning back to the matter at hand.

"We need to recheck the personnel file of everyone here with blonde hair, see if there is anything that might have been missed in the security checks that might give us a clue as to who is behind this."

"And until we have further information about who and why, I'm assigning guards to each of the senior staff," John stated.

"Yourself included," Elizabeth added with a pointed look.

"Myself included," he added with a sigh.

"Good. Now there is another matter that we need to discuss. The Yan-Dallins have contacted us to inform us that their harvest is ready and we need to negotiate for a share of it. As you know, they've been good allies over the last couple of years, but due to their customs we need you, John, to be part of the negotiating team."

John pulled a face.

"I need to be here, running the investigation," he protested.

"The Yan-Dallins consider the inclusion of our military commander in the negotiating team as a sign of our high regard for them. To send someone of a lower rank would offend them and make it much more difficult and costly to secure a deal," Teyla explained patiently. "If Elizabeth was to go, they would consider us to have increased our regard for them, but they would then expect her to attend all trade deals in the future."

"And that is a precedent we don't want to set," John agreed reluctantly. "Looks like I'll be going to Dallen then."

"I will go with you," Teyla said.

"Of course you will," he replied, rolling his eyes.

"Well, you're negotiating skills can…be less than helpful," Elizabeth teased.

"Right. Well, if Teyla and myself are going, then we may as well make it a team mission."

"What? No, no, no, I've got far more important things to do…" Rodney started to protest.

"Actually," Elizabeth said, cutting across any further remarks from Rodney, "They are having problems with the power relay from their hydro-electric dam to the town. Perhaps you could take a look at it for them?"

"It's a simple enough job that anyone on my staff could do. Well, some of them, anyway. The point being, that I don't need to go. It would be a waste of my talents…"

"Rodney," John interrupted. "You're going."

"But…" Sheppard gave him a pointed look. "Right, fine, it seems that I'll be going," Rodney muttered in annoyance.

"I'd like Jim and Blair to run the investigation while you are off world. After all, catching criminals was what they did before coming here, and I'm sure their experience will be very helpful."

"Sounds good to me," John agreed. Jim and Blair nodded their agreement as well. "So, when do we leave for Dallen?"

"It will be morning there in just under three hours time. So, 16:00 hours?"

"We'll be there."


"I need to eat something before getting my stuff ready for the mission," Rodney said as he left the meeting with Sheppard, Ronon and Teyla close by.

"Sure, Ronon will keep an eye on you, won't you, big guy?" John said, looking to Ronon.

"Yeah," Ronon replied, looking resigned.

"Right, fine. And who will be 'keeping an eye' on you?" Rodney demanded.

"I will," Teyla stated, her look challenging John to disagree with her.

"If you insist," John answered dryly.

"I do."

"Good, now that's sorted, I'm hungry, so if you'll excuse me…" Rodney waved a hand in the vague direction of the mess hall and left with Ronon in tow.


She watched him come in with the barbarian from his team, but quickly averted her eyes before they looked in her direction.

"Why aren't you dead?" she wondered. "I planned it all oh so carefully. Your brains should be splattered all over the wall, not walking into here still contained in your miserable head. I want him to be proud of me, proud for putting his murderer to death. It's what he would have wanted."

The sound of a chair dragging on the floor nearby caused her to look up and she saw that they were sitting down at the table next to her.

Her first instinct was to grab her knife and stab him there and then, followed by running out of the commissary, but she suppressed the feeling of hate that filled her, knowing that now wasn't the time. A time would come and she would make sure that next time he would die.

"You really going to eat all that?" Ronon asked, amused.

"Who knows when I'll get to eat again. I have to watch the native food, remember. Who knows what they might have put on that innocuous bit of fish or meat. It only has to have the smallest splash of citrus. Not all of us have constitutions made out of iron."

"Thought all your pockets contained PowerBars."

"Only for emergencies."

"Ever thought about laying off the excessive food and getting more exercise. You could come running with me in the mornings." Ronon smirked.

"And die of a coronary. No thank you." Rodney glared at him. "Now if you want me ready in time to go gallivanting round the universe, I suggest you let me eat."

Ronon grinned and helped himself to a few fries from McKay's plate, which earned him several hard glares and rude comments, to his continued amusement. Sometimes it was just too easy.

"So, can we go now?" Ronon asked, picking up the plate and tray as soon as Rodney had finished his meal and ensuring that the word pudding wouldn't come into play.

"Hey!" Rodney protested, but seeing the look on Ronon's face he sighed and followed him out of the mess hall, managing to snag a couple of mango pudding cups on his way out though. Neither of them noticed the blonde haired woman watching them, with a thoughtful look on her face.