Vegas Blues: I See a Darkness2
"Somehow you've managed to live with yourself since then. But I'm not sure other people would if they knew the truth."
John froze. Staring, mouth open. Gun poised in his hands. Aiden was sprawled on the floor, meekly struggling, gasping. A large man was straddled on top of him. Except it wasn't a man. It had oddly greyish skin. Huge, bulging biceps and arms. Bulging thighs. A weird mask enclosed its face. It had one big hand extended, pressing into Aiden's chest. Was almost literally pulling him off the ground with the palm, making Aiden's back arch painfully.
John fired, aiming carefully. His bullet hitting the thing's wrist. Cutting off whatever power it was exerting. But something gushed from the arm and into Aiden. As the young man fell back the creature moved to its feet. Turned, stepping over its victim. John fired repeatedly, at the head, the heart. The monster kept heading for him, uninjured. Not slowed at all.
John's gun was empty. It didn't matter as the creature swung out an arm. Flung John across the room. He landed hard, hitting the floor and rolling, then hitting the wall. He groaned, the breath knocked out of him. Scrambling but the thing was on him. Hand raised, fingers splayed. "Shit," John whispered, realizing this was it. He wished he had apologized to Moira. Realizing his last thought was of her powder blue, lacy thong. Wondering if the bra matched.
A barrage of bullets slammed into the creature. A blast of blue energy sent it flying off him. John rolled, scrambling to his feet as a lithe human was blasting the creature with a large gun. A few marines at his back, using futuristic weapons that emitted lasers instead of bullets. The monster went down at last, writhing on the floor until it became still. Inert. Dead.
John grabbed his gun off the floor. "Thanks," he said gruffly. Moving to look down at the creature. "What the hell is it?"
"Drone." At the female voice he turned, startled. The person with the large gun removed her helmet, revealing a pretty face and a mess of dark curls. She blew them out of her eyes with a smile, eyes roving all over him. "Can't let a fine lookin' man like you get drained by one these fuckers." She tapped her earpiece. "Clear! Unsub is down and out for the count. Retrieval team is clear to go!"
John didn't know what to make of the petite woman. "P90?" he identified the weapon. "I fired a whole round into that thing and it didn't slow an inch."
"Takes more than that toy to take 'em down," she explained. Shrugged. "Usually a whole clip or one of those," she indicated the bulky stun guns with a jerk of her head. "They're tough bastards. Tough as nails."
"Elizabeth! Are you...oh." Rodney halted in his rush. Walked over and eyed the dead creature on the floor. His lips curled in disgust.
"I'm fine, Rodney, quit fussing, would ya? I was just getting around to introducing myself to this fine, fine man I just saved." She smiled. "Elizabeth Weir. Diplomat."
John snorted. "Diplomat?"
"Yes, well, I was, in another life. I think I prefer this kind of diplomacy."
"Drone? Why doesn't it look like the other one?" John asked, eyes back on the body.
"It's the same species, but not as evolved. Look." Rodney knelt, removed the mask. A face of horror greeted John's eyes. An ill-formed nose and eyes and a mouth full of irregularly shaped teeth. A face out of a monster movie. Mutated. Not completely developed. "It must have been hibernating and that's why we couldn't detect it. Until it was activated. Controlled telepathically by our prisoner."
"By Todd the god?" John shrugged as both Rodney and Elizabeth eyed him. "That's what Hayes called it. Practically worshiped the...oh shit! Ford!" John looked round, but the body of the young man was nowhere to be found. "That thing was, was draining him. I shot it and..."
"He can't have gotten far. We'll find him, don't worry." Elizabeth tapped her earpiece. "All teams, move out. One civilian, possible victim, interrupted feeding. Check all areas." She stepped to John. "If you ever want to talk ordnance and size ratios call me." She glanced at the gun in his hand, then to his crotch. "Drinks will be on me, at least the first round." She winked at him. Gestured and left with the marines.
John stared after her. Hands on his hips after he slid his gun into his holster. Shaking his head. "Wow...she's..."
"Yes. She is. And more. Elizabeth! Keep a squad with you at all times!" Rodney ordered.
Elizabeth peered round the doorway, frowning. "I can handle myself, Rodney! What do you think is going to happen to me? It's not like I am going to become infected with a nano-virus and be taken over by some replicator genes and made into a copy of myself, now is it?" she scoffed. Eyed John again, her gaze bold. Assessing. Suggestive. Then she left.
Rodney sighed, watched a group of men roll the creature into a large body bag. "We found the box as well. It looks to be the source of the contagion. It's replicating, growing, a living organism. At least we can contain it now. The Drone was transporting it. To the city. We'll clean up all and any traces of it. John?"
John was looking round, not quite believing that Aiden had survived the attack and then seemingly run away. "I'll post an APB and issue a BOLO for him. He won't get far. If he's still alive, that is. What about those other perps? Who were they?"
"No idea. Probably deluded individuals who were either after the box thinking it was drugs or else being controlled by the Drone. Sometimes people fall under their spell and actually worship them. Like Hayes, I'm guessing. They can prey on the weak-minded."
"Kinda like Jedi, huh?" At Rodney's blank look John sighed. "Never mind." He began to head out of the room. "We're done here, right?"
"Wait, John." Rodney caught up to him. The two men strolled across the deserted expanse of the store. "I need to talk to you."
"About this? No need. I got it. Don't say a word. No one would believe me anyway. It will just go down as a drug bust gone south. In the report."
"I can get that black mark removed from your record."
John stopped. The words unexpected. Startling. Making his gut tense, twitch. He turned to stare at Rodney. The two men were alone. Dust motes were skimming the stale air as the sunlight penetrated the darkness of the store. His gaze narrowed. Suspicious.
"I can't erase the past, John. But I can give you a second chance. Another one. Another shot in the Air Force, except you'd be working for me. A new job. Another–"
"Chance at redemption?" he snarled. "Too late, Rodney. You want me to be like that other John Sheppard. The hero? Ain't gonna happen!"
"Just think about it. You did it once. Were the hero, I mean. You could have left Vegas. You were leaving, weren't you? Until something made you turn your car around. Something made you realize where that Wraith was. Something made you call me. Something made you risk your life to save others. Countless others, John, you saved that day. You saved the planet."
"Stupidity. That's all it was. All right? Get yourself another hero." He walked away, turned back. "And I expect to be paid for my services, McKay, whether I'm on your payroll or not. In cash. Up front next time, too."
John sighed. He had been driving around for hours. There was no sign of Aiden. He checked all of the young man's usual haunts after investigating the desolate neighborhood where he had been attacked. John still marveled over the creature. The Drone, they had called it. A huge, ugly monster he knew he would never be able to forget. He wondered what Moira would make of it. Chased the thought away, scowling. Recalling his blunder. Middlegate Hills. The place where the first ship from outer spaced had crashed.
Also the place where Moira's expedition had gone horribly wrong, resulting in the deaths of four people. Including that of her fiancé. He wondered how she lived with herself after that. Probably much like he did, going day to day in a string of monotony. Broken by various distractions, addictions to keep all thoughts bland, all emotions buried. Having nothing else to do but to continue living. Trying to move beyond the past but forever stuck in it since it was buried deep inside you. Locked away in a dark room in your mind but there all the same.
John considered Rodney's offer. Erasing the black mark on his sealed record. But it wouldn't erase the past. Those deaths on his hands. His hands bloodied by the deaths of four airmen and eight civilians. The crash of the helicopter. The death of that medic. He couldn't bring himself to even think of her name, or to picture her. Instead he buried it all like he always did. Shunted all the past aside and concentrated on the present. On the road ahead of him as he headed back into the city. Back into Vegas.
Back to work.