Author's Note: This story kinda took on a life of its own, leaving my outline behind. It took me several drafts of this chapter to get it back on track. I'm still not crazy about the result but it was holding up the story so I went ahead and posted. It's not my best work but it gets us where we need to be for the next installment so please be kind. I'm certain it will get better – probably – most likely. Was that a McKayism?
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Rodney McKay's mouth opened once . . . twice . . . and still nothing came out. A barrage of lies raced through his mind but none of them seemed believable enough to actually voice. He didn't notice John had taken a protective stance in front of him until John's tense posture slowly unwound into a slouch as he shuffled next to Rodney.
"Edward Blake." John answered in a low growl. Rodney almost snorted but luckily didn't. He didn't know what Sheppard had up his sleeve but he thought the pseudonym was probably as fitting as it was amusing.
"Ah, Mr. Blake. And exactly who do you work for? U.S. Military? CIA? Stargate Command perhaps?"
If John was stunned about the terrorist's knowledge he made no show of it. In fact, he leaned casually again the wall and crossed his arms. "Mikey McMulhearn. Know him?" he asked slyly.
The general showed his surprise. "Who is this Mikey McMulhearn?"
"Loan Shark? Irish mafia? Owns half the strip clubs south of Smoke Ranch?"
When no reply came forth, Rodney watched as John sighed impatiently. Rodney didn't know if it was the two days worth of stubble on Sheppard's face or just a shift in his posture – in his eyes – but suddenly John Sheppard looked unpredictable . . . dangerous. The impression doubled in magnitude when John suddenly lunged at him. Before McKay had realized what had happened, John Sheppard had pulled the scientist in front of him, twisting his arm up behind his back and placing a knife to his throat. An unrecognizably menacing voice came from behind Rodney, "I'll kill him if I have to . . ."
"Oh God," Rodney muttered his eyes fluttering shut for a minute. He had been wrong. Stupid. Just like Woolsey had said. The man holding him hostage was too damaged and now Rodney was going to die for being egotistical enough to think he could save John Sheppard.
The General held up his hands in a placating gesture, walking towards the two men. "Mr. Blake, I'm not sure what you want with the Good Doctor but I'm sure an arrangement can be made."
The knife at Rodney's throat dug deeper, pain lancing up through his head. He could feel blood begin to flow down his neck into his shirt and closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable outcome.
"Take one more step and you'll be mopping up McKay for the next couple of hours." John said in a low determined voice.
The general stopped and took two steps back, motioning his soldiers to slightly lower their weapons. "Perhaps if you told me what your interest in Dr. McKay was . . . "
John sneered. "Dr. McKay here thought he was smart enough to run the table. Thought he was some kind of rain man and all he needed was a small stake and he'd outwit the system and make a mint."
Rodney's eyes widened as he listened to the preposterous tale John spun.
"When it didn't quite work out that way, he skipped out, leaving Mikey holding the bag. I'm just here to deliver the 'Good Doctor' back to Mikey so payment can be made."
The general narrowed his eyes as he considered the story. The man certainly looked desperate enough to kill the scientist but something wasn't right.
"You really expect me to believe . . .."
"I don't really care what you believe. I just knew it was pretty good money. But no amount of money is worth dying for so let me tell you what is going to happen." John twisted Rodney's arm harshly making him cry out. "I'm going to take that elevator behind you and Mr. Wizard and I are going to go to the first floor. We are then going to walk out the front of the building and to my car. You're welcomed to follow me until that time when I will get in my car and drive away leaving the scientist for you in the parking lot.
"And what makes you think I won't kill you where you stand?" the general snarled.
John started to angle his back towards the elevator, pulling McKay with him. "You could, but there is always the chance that you could hit McKay and I'm betting right now he means a lot more to you than I do. Besides, I've died before," John said with a bitter smile. "Doesn't really bother me anymore."
As John moved, the knife slipped in his hand cutting Rodney again and making him cry out. Suddenly the general realized that John was perfectly serious and motioned his men to back off. John smiled again wolfishly, hitting the button and maneuvering him and his hostage into the elevator. As the door slid shut, John sighed, released McKay and hit the stop button. He could hear the terrorist shout, "Downstairs! Everyone downstairs!"
Rodney eyed John warily rubbing his sore arm. He grimaced as he reached up and felt the thin cuts that were bleeding like a war wound. Unsure he asked, " so are you killing me or are we escaping?"
John smiled like a shark and it made Rodney slightly nervous. "Good, if you were unsure then I'm sure I convinced him. John reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a roll of gauze. "You're neck's bleeding," he said tossing it towards McKay.
"Thanks to you. Now what?" Rodney groused dabbing at his neck.
"I'm working on it."
"Great! That's just . . . brilliant," McKay huffed.
"Hey, I'm open to ideas. You can't do anything with this, can you? Make it into a grenade?"
McKay caught the scanner John had pulled from yet another pocket. How many pockets did he have, anyway? "Of course, I can't. That's just a standard scanner. I could just point it at them and see if maybe the radiation doesn't kill them in oh say 40 years. That's just like you military types."
"I haven't been a military type for a long time," John said rubbing his eyes wearily.
Rodney stopped in mid rant, not sure what to say. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. Snapping his fingers, he said, "Wait a minute, wait a minute. Can we get to the roof?"
"I came in that way," John replied uncertainly. "Why?"
Rodney ripped the back of the scanner and pulled out the wires. "We need to be as high as possible."
"Ooookay." John restored the power to the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor.
McKay continued to work feverishly until the doors parted on the top floor. John had to nudge him to get his attention. "Move, McKay."
"Yeah, right." Rodney muttered back still looking at the device. Moving quickly, John led Rodney to the stairs he had used earlier and bustled the distracted scientist upward. As John pulled the door shut, he heard shouting behind him. He quickly looked around and found an old antenna that he could use to wedge the door shut. Putting the aluminum pole in place, he grimaced. That wasn't going to hold for long. "Now what?" he shouted.
"Just a minute, Detective."
John looked over the edge of the roof and saw men with guns at all four corners. "We don't have minute McKay."
John had rushed back to check the door when McKay yelled, "I've got it!" John turned taking in the scientist sitting on the roof, blood still seeping from his neck, hair sticking up – he looked like a mad man. John was about to ask what he had when the first bullets punctured the metal of the door.
"Shit!" John yelped as he threw himself to the side, one of the bullets grazing his thigh. Lying on his back, John suddenly wondered, "What the hell am I doing here?" He was almost jumped when he opened his eyes and McKay's face was all he saw.
"Are you okay?" McKay asked anxiously maneuvering around Sheppard to hold him up from behind.
"I'm fine," John growled, shrugging off the help. "Get off!"
"No we need to be touching when . . ."
McKay's reply was cut short when the metal door and its weak reinforcement gave way and the roof filled with soldiers. The M16 rifles pointing at the two men kept them still.
"Well, Mr. Blake. I guess you care more about our Dr. McKay than you let on. No matter."
John looked up at Rodney and smiled crookedly. "I think this is the part where I get thrown off the roof . . . but I seriously doubt he is the smartest man on Earth."
"Shoot him!" the general ordered.
McKay pulled him closer and said softly in John's ear, "No, that would be me." John knew nothing more as a brilliant white light filled his vision.
Authors Note:
Watchmen Spoiler Alert! Read no further if you haven't read the graphic novel or seen the movie and you don't want the ending blown!
Edward Blake is the real name of one of the Watchmen, the Comedian, a morally dubious and disillusioned 'hero' who was thrown out a skyscraper window by another one of the Watchmen, Adrian Veidt/Ozymandias, believed to be the smartest man in the world.