Part 3
Pope must have suspected what Sheppard was about to do, for he suddenly appeared from around the side of the stack, running in a direct intercept path between his prey and the wall unit. The crush of the flying tackle knocked the colonel hard to the floor, his breath momentarily pushed out of his chest before he could turn over. When the other man scrambled to get a better grip on his leg to keep him down, Sheppard used his free foot to kick his assailant in the head, sending him tumbling backwards across the open floor with a grunt.
"You up for a tussle, Colonel?" Wiping blood from his split lip across the back of his hand, the drug runner sneered as he jumped to his feet and pulled a utility knife free from the clip on his belt. He waved the razor sharp blade back and forth in the air, waiting for a chance to strike.
"Honestly, I had other plans for my evening. What do you say you put that down before someone gets hurt?"
"Little too late for that, don't you think?" Pope took another step to the side, positioning himself between Sheppard and the nearest exit. "JT!" he bellowed, the knife still held out while his eyes flickered to the side, looking for his cohort.
The sound of an engine rumble came from somewhere deep in the stacks, before the bright front light of the forklift cut a straight beam in their direction. Grinding the gears before getting it right, JT shot the machine forward, the two protruding tines rising in the air like horns on an angry bull.
Sheppard shot a quick glance at the advancing vehicle and then to Pope. Deciding on the lesser of two evils, he bolted back into the shadows of the supplies the second Pope looked away.
He skidded through a pile of strewn equipment, and then grimaced when he slipped on packing peanuts only to wind up with his right knee jammed painfully against the floor. It was hard to see where he was going in sections of the dimmed area, but determined not to end his day stuck like a shish kabob on the front of a forklift, he ignored the tight pull in his kneecap and palmed the controls to the mammoth double doors leading out to the open pier.
The deep rumble within the surrounding walls made him smile. At least one thing worked in his favor. He counted to two before jamming the screwdriver into the control unit, creating a colorful shower of sparks down the wall, followed by an abrupt silence, broken only by the grind of the advancing machine. Let's see them get that damn thing out on the pier now, he thought to himself.
Weaving silently between the towering stacks, he worked his way closer to the partially open bay doors, praying he'd given them enough time to at least crack apart so he could squeeze through. This was one time that being skinny was really going to work in his favor.
"Where do you think you're gonna go, colonel?" Pope shouted out from somewhere behind him. "Awfully cold and dark out there at night, and we'd hate for you to have an accident."
Sheppard refused to be baited, knowing the others were trying to get him to give up his position. With the stealth of a cat, he made it to the edge of the maze of crates without being spotted, and he could make out the narrow opening to the dark pier only a few meters away. A quick glance of the area revealed no sign of Pope, JT, or the forklift, but he knew they had to be close, just waiting for him.
Mentally, he gave himself a three count before rushing across the open space and quickly forcing his body to squeeze through the gap. Cold night air helped boost his adrenalin as he popped free on the other side and began to run again. The sound of gunfire ricocheting off the doors behind him let him know that his little exit hadn't been missed.
SG: A
The crescent moon high in the dark sky cast little light down on the enormous landing pier, and Sheppard stumbled several times as he came in contact with unfamiliar obstacles in his way. One fall caused him to land on his already sore knee and he bit back a curse as he clutched his leg to his chest, trying to control his breathing as waves of pain radiated from his toes to his hair.
But time was of the essence and he didn't have the option to rest. With the light of the lift piercing out across the darkness while the two men inside tried to use the machine to pry the reluctant doors apart, he could hear the heavy grinding as they grudgingly gave way. Struggling back to his feet, he chuckled at the thought of how pissed the engineering team was going to be when they had to fix those. And he didn't even want to think what McKay might have to say about it.
Rodney. Shit. He shook his head, hobbling cautiously along the edge of the pier. This was the last thing the scientist needed. People going off all around him in drug crazed stupors, reminding him of what had happened just a short time ago.
The beam of light shifted from the entranceway and now bobbled with the lift's jerky movements out across the pier. Apparently Pope and JT were a little more resilient than he'd given the pair credit for. He followed the silhouette of the larger man stalking through the darkness, waving what had to be a gun in his right hand. Good, he'd gotten rid of the knife. For some reason, Sheppard had always found it easier to disarm an assailant who carried a gun, less chance of injury he believed.
"Colonel, no one knows you're out here but us," Pope taunted. "I figure you have two choices. One, keep hiding until I find you and put a bullet in your head. Or, two, join us. There's enough to go around. Atlantis is a big place. I could use someone on the inside." He kept walking, his eyes taking in every detail he passed. Finding an overturned crate next to a spot of dry deck, he crouched down for a closer look, his hands running over a deep dent in the side. "Kind of hard to see in the dark," he called out, motioning to JT to turn the lift so that the light was cast in a new direction, towards the water's edge.
Sheppard tucked himself behind a large piece of the ventilation system and waited. There wasn't a lot on this pier for him to hide behind, so he knew it was only a matter of time before Pope headed in his direction. Without any weapons, and his knee refusing to cooperate, his only option was to try and take the large man down. Every muscle tight in anticipation, he held his breath as the distance between them closed.
Pope's pace slowed as he neared the edge, his grip tightening on the gun. Licking his lips, he stepped cautiously towards the object sticking out the edge of the pier. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he goaded quietly in a singsong voice, while waving his free hand behind his back.
JT shut off the lift engine after catching Pope's signal. Moving slowly towards his boss, he nervously looked back and forth for the missing colonel. "Maybe he made it back inside," he hissed.
The larger man shook his head 'no'.
Sheppard held his breath so as not to give away his position.
The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of the water pounding against the side of Atlantis.
JT looked in the opposite direction as a wave further down pushed water up over the deck.
Pope stopped close to Atlantis's edge and leaned forward to look over the side.
One more step, Sheppard's mind ordered.
Another large swell broke over the side of the deck, spraying water high in the air, breaking Pope's concentration.
In the blink of an eye, Sheppard hurtled forward to catch the drug dealer unaware around the waist, before knocking both of them over the side into the dark frothing water.
SG: A
The brief fall before the splash wasn't enough time for Sheppard to prepare himself for the cold impact. Water rushed over him, sucking him under with terrifying swiftness. Not able to catch his breath, he choked on a mouthful of seawater. His eyes burned from the sting of salt as his arms flailed desperately to drag himself towards the surface. Tiny points of light filled his vision as his body demanded air.
Kicking with everything he had, his injured knee numb from the cold, he breached the surface and filled his burning lungs with oxygen before a hand grabbed his collar from behind and thrust him back under. It was pitch black beneath the water and he fought to free himself from Pope's iron like grasp.
Twisting sideways, his arm tucked with his fist to his chest, he used his elbow to hammer the other man in the groin, instantly gaining his freedom. He could feel Pope's feet moving erratically beside him as the big man tried to stay afloat.
With a determined pull of his arms, Sheppard broke through the churning water again, spluttering as he gasped to fill his lungs. He didn't have a chance to get his bearings before another wave pushed him hard against the side of Atlantis, pulling him back under.
His hands grasped for anything to hold on to before he gave the churning ocean another chance to pummel him against the side of Atlantis. Pushed up briefly once more, he choked on salt water before catching his breath. He could barely make out the figures of Pope and JT standing on the edge of the deck before another large wave pushed him further down the side of Atlantis away from the drug runners.
The warmth of his body leeched by the cold, Sheppard was rapidly loosing his ability to stay afloat. His fingers scrabbled over Atlantis during the next wave's push and he latched onto a grate of some sort, anchoring himself against the pull of the undercurrent. Just a few more minutes, he told himself, before he'd climb out. By then, the others would, hopefully, have given up looking for him.
SG: A
JT's eyes were wide as he stared at his boss prowling the water's edge, searching the darkness for the colonel. "Let's get out of here. He's gone. There's no way he could stay under that long."
The soaked figure growled unintelligibly, anger rolling off of him in waves. "If he isn't dead, by the time I'm done with him, he'll wish he was."
Pope worked his way further along the edge, disappearing into the darkness, leaving the smaller man to stand nervously alone. "Do you want me to go get the stuff?" he yelled. Not getting an answer, he looked back towards the light streaming out from the partially open doors and then back into the inky night. "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere."
He trotted back inside to where the spilled bag still lay strewn across the floor. Scooping up all of the smaller bags of capsules, he stuffed them in his pockets before heading back to the original crate and peering inside. The other item still lay untouched. Carefully lifting it, he turned it over in his hand and shrugged at the unfamiliar object. Whatever it was, he knew Pope must have packed it for a reason.
The sound of voices growing louder from the connecting hallway caused him to slip back between several piles before disappearing once more out into the darkness.
SG: A
"…I didn't bring my weapon." Ronon felt undressed without the familiar weapon strapped to his thigh as he followed close behind McKay and Beckett, listening to the pair describe the game of basketball.
Rodney stopped and turned around to stare in disbelief. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You said I needed to shoot the ball."
That brought a devilish smirk to the physician's face. "Aye, that you did say, Rodney." He received one of McKay's better glares for the remark.
"Oh, thank you. You are so not helping," he snapped at Carson. Turning to Ronon, Rodney put his hands together, shooting an invisible ball. " Not shoot as in using a gun. What is with you military types?" Before he could go off on a full tangent, he stopped, recognizing Ronon's signal for quiet that they used off world.
"Something's happened down here," the large man rumbled, warily making his way through strewn packing contents that littered the floor.
The two doctors followed close behind until the group came across the backboards.
Ronon propped the one on the floor back up against a crate. "Sheppard was here."
"Where is he now?" Carson asked.
Rodney glanced around the pair, taking in the equipment and pieces of hardware still resting on the floor. "Where are the poles?"
"What?" Ronon scowled.
Gesturing to the boards, the scientist then waved to the surrounding stacks. "He needs poles for these. Maybe he went to look for them and…"
They grew silent, looking around at the items Sheppard had been so eager to share with them earlier.
"Let's split up. McKay, you take Beckett."
Carson was mildly surprised when Rodney readily acquiesced. Following the scientist through the maze of crates, he realized how much McKay had changed since they'd first arrived. When they stopped near a burned out control panel on the wall, he grimaced, spying the screwdriver. "What do you think happened?"
"This is the bay door controls. Someone was either trying to get in… or out." He chewed his lower lip a moment before heading across the room in silent determination with Carson close on his heels. Coming to stand before the partially open, damaged doors, he watched Ronon join them as he held open his hand to display several spent casings.
Worried, Carson stated the obvious. "Oh, dear lord. We need to find him."
TBC