Rodney was a terrible liar, even if a few precarious missions had given him plenty of rehearsal; a white lie here and there, rambles of scientific theorems to stall for time and even full fledged cover stories in event of capture. When it came to bluffing?
He sucked.
He'd been confined to his lab when Elizabeth had switched to inner computer communications to message him about the fire fight. Hours crawled by, work halted to a stand still and his sweaty palm rested on the butt of his weapon more than he ever cared to admit.
By the time he was allowed to leave, he'd insisted on walking back without an escort to keep from raising suspicions about his new roommate. Every shadow made him jump and he did a pretty damn good impersonation of an owl, craning his neck every three seconds to check behind him. Teyla met him right outside the entrance to his quarters, exhausted and frazzled looking.
She had received the same security alert message from his lap top and made him promise not to tell Sheppard about what happened. He argued against the absurdity of the whole idea. In the end... he had lost. You did not argue with Teyla.
The next day he had been forced to lie to one grumpy and fed up colonel about why it wasn't such a good idea to go out for a stroll. Things had been easier when Sheppard was asleep for hours on end.
"You're under the delusion that I need your permission," Sheppard said, tapping at the computer, then giving the keyboard a good whack. "This lap top isn't working."
Count to three, Rodney told himself. "Using that military mind that only knows about force to get things to cooperate, isn't going to magically repair it."
Sheppard ignored him, turning the machine off in hopes of rebooting it. What the pilot didn't know was that Rodney had taken the thing off line so a certain annoying roommate didn't stumble across any reports concerning the attack.
"Are you even going to take a look at it? I'd like to be able to stay in the loop," Sheppard complained.
"It's not on the top of my agenda right now and stop trying to play military commander. You're laid up for a while."
Sheppard turned in his seat to face him. "Then I'm getting out of here."
"You forget the whole not being able to walk thing." His gaze fell on a pair of crutches that the colonel didn't have a chance in Hell of using any time soon, despite how Sheppard stared at them in false hope. "If you try those, you'll break your neck... Plus they're mine."
"I have a wheelchair."
Rodney had forgotten about the stupid thing that Carson had left just in case the colonel required any scans or tests that would require an infirmary visit---- that put a crick his plans.
"And besides, you don't even use those crutches," Sheppard huffed as he grabbed the walker and hauled himself up.
The guy always had to get the parting shot.
"Before you had to one up me, I did have to use those things. My foot still hurts every time I step on it."
Colonel Jackass shuffled badly towards the wheelchair, the metal contraption creating enough noise to make a herd of stampeding elephants jealous. The pilot struggled to maintain his balance and wasn't able to conceal how little weight he placed on his left leg.
"I still think Carson might be a little ticked that you keep unhooking your IV for these little walkabouts."
"The catheter is still inserted; I hate dragging that damn pole around."
Sheppard battled with the wheelchair, maneuvering his body into the seat and cursing as the walker fell over before he was situated.
Rodney rushed over and supported Sheppard when his leg gave out from under him. "Hey, easy."
"Damn it!" the colonel cursed, but Rodney kept him from falling over the wheelchair and settled him into the leather seat.
They both huffed from the exertion; Rodney caught his breath while Sheppard held on to his thigh for dear life. Asking if the pilot was okay was rhetorical so instead Rodney waited for the man to regain his composure. Sheppard pulled at the fabric around his knee and put his leg into the foot rest.
"One...way ..or another," Sheppard gasped, "I'm going to breathe fresh ocean air."
To prove his point, the bullheaded man pushed the wheels until Rodney blocked his path.
"Get out of my way, McKay."
"Or what? You'll run over me?"
"If that's what it takes."
"With the nominal amount of force you're capable of producing? I'll take my chances."
"I'm not hiding in here anymore."
Rodney's mind was known for its brilliant speed for calculations but it sputtered and stalled when put to the test of ad libbing. Every reason, every logical explanation for not going out there was part of the forbidden knowledge. Why couldn't he be a better poker player?
"Can't you stop being selfish for once and consider all the hard work of every person searching the city for your assailant?"
"If I let this guy dictate my life then he wins!"
"Just for a few days, Colonel."
"No. I'm not bowing down. I'll stay in your room until I can move around on my own. I know to let Lorne and Caldwell run things for a while. Hell, I'm submitting to this stupid freakin' wheelchair. But I'll be damned if I let some ugly alien assassin determine when I can walk the halls of my city!"
"Wheel."
"Whatever."
"It's..." Rodney got tongue tied between the truth and what was best for his friend.
"It's what?...Is there something you're not telling me?"
Rodney was so bad at this. "No. ..Nothing."
They stared at each other in a stand off and he knew nothing would stop John Sheppard once he set his mind on a task.
"Fine, we'll go to the pier, it's just down the hall, but don't get used to me pushing you. I'm not your servant you know."
Strike one on keeping the stir crazy colonel from leaving his room. Now he had to convince the guards that it wasn't the stupidest idea ever to let the guy with a bull's eye on his chest exit the security of his safely guarded quarters. Rodney wheeled the colonel out of his room for the first time since he'd been imprisoned for his own good, undoing the snap of his gun holster just in case he needed to pull it out in an emergency.
If they made it there and back alive, he vowed to practice the whole lying thing again.
Three hallways stretched onward for way too long; like The Shining's Overlook Hotel spooky corridor type of long. There were four turns in all, with four Marines escorting them the three minutes it required to reach the nearest pier.
Sheppard didn't notice that neither armed man used their radios; maybe it was because he was still keyed up from arguing with two subordinates before pulling rank and reminding them of how many stripes they each had on their collars. A pair of yes, sirs later and a flagged down patrol from nearby and they were outside on the balcony.
Rodney paced the landing while he scoped out the area behind them. The only tactical advantage the pier served was that there was only one direction to worry about an ambush coming from. Sheppard relaxed, deeply breathing in the salty breeze and lay his head back to stare up at the deep blue sky.
"Will you be still? You're ruining the moment."
"Excuse me for being a little nervous about being around a neon sign that reads 'target'."
"Maybe I should save us all the trouble and shoot myself."
Rodney stalked over, his right eye twitching in an impending aneurysm "That's not funny, Colonel! You think this is a game? That you can play reckless hero with your life? I didn't think you were into martyrdom and I sure as hell don't like being around kamikaze pilots!"
Sheppard spun his chair around and for a moment the injured man didn't appear too incapacitated. Between the storm brewing behind his hazel eyes and the rising flush to his face, Rodney thought the colonel could quite easily waste him or anyone stupid enough to mess with him. It was scary how quickly the switch from nonchalant Sheppard to trained military killer could be flipped.
"I will not act in this sick little play, McKay. I told you once already. If this guy can dictate my life from the shadows then he's won. I am not some pawn to be manipulated."
"No one said you were," Rodney said, holding his hands out in supplication.
The colonel unclenched the handlebars and nodded to himself. "Well, good. I'm glad we came to an understanding."
Sheppard seemed embarrassed by his outburst, looking over at the Marines to verify that their attention was elsewhere. He moved his injured leg out of the footrest and humbly looked up at the physicist. "Do you think you could help me up?"
The circuit breaker to John Sheppard reset itself and Rodney found himself by his side. "Yeah. What is it that you want to do?"
"I want to stand over by the railing. I just need a hand."
Sheppard wrapped his arm around Rodney's shoulders and stood up, waiting to see if he could hold his weight. Satisfied that he wouldn't keel over, Rodney helped Sheppard hobble over to the railing as the pilot used the beam to hold on to and peered at the ocean below. He backed away to give the man a little personal space but not too far, just in case the whole being upright thing got too much.
"Funny how a few years ago I was surrounded by ice as far as the eye could see. Now I don't know what I'd do if I didn't smell the sea everyday," Sheppard drawled in a heavy voice.
"I've never been into the whole water thing. I don't understand the allure of frying your skin into early cancer and I find fishing to be boring."
"You need to experience surfing."
Rodney snorted. "No thank you."
For a few minutes the sounds of the ocean currents lured him into a false sense of normalcy. Everything was right with the galaxy and there were no monsters to slay or people to save.
"The meeting's tomorrow."
Rodney rolled his eyes; so much for a moment's solace. "Yes, Ladon is coming here for a real face to face talk."
He couldn't see the colonel's expression but he didn't need to; everything about Sheppard's feelings on the subject were plain as day in his voice. "Who's handling security?"
"Caldwell since Lorne's ...well, he's been busy..."
Sheppard leaned heavily across the rail and turned his head. "Distractions can be deadly in times like these."
"They certainly are, sir."
They both turned to watch Lorne enter the balcony with more Marines stationed behind him that took up positions near the corners. The typically well-composed major stormed over, undoubtedly wanting to test out the definition of insubordination. "What the hell are you doing here, sir?"
"Checking out the ocean."
"With all due respect, sir, this is idiotic." Lorne gave Rodney a scathing look. "And I thought some people knew better than to pull this type of stunt."
"Some people don't know any better." Ronon's voice boomed.
Sheppard did an awkward hop-hobble to face both irate members of his team. "I don't need a hall pass to roam around."
"Considering the circumstances, I'd have to disagree," Lorne challenged.
"Duly noted," Sheppard retorted.
Ronon went toe to toe with his CO. "I know that you hate feeling powerless, but coming out here will not avenge our guys' deaths."
Rodney felt the color drain from his face and was at a loss for words, while the colonel's expression went from puzzled to downright enraged.
"What are you talking about?"
Rodney found his voice, attempting some damage control. "Um... maybe we should--"
Ronon shook his head. "I told Teyla that lying was a waste of time."
Sheppard gnashed his teeth together and ground out the words. "About. What?"
Lorne must have sensed the impending volcanic eruption and stepped up. "My team was going back on patrol. When we were exiting the last checkpoint that led to the unpopulated area, Sergeant Murdock must have noticed that Voulsh was near us. Dr. McKay suggested we carry around aerosol cans filled with paint to use in our search."
"Many of our teams report feeling like someone's around, but no way to verify it. I thought...you know, spray the area down," Rodney explained.
The major lowered his voice. "We're not sure what happened, but the guy was quick. He took my team out in seconds, our backup, and broke through our defenses. He's at large inside the city."
Sheppard arms trembled from being locked in place in his pathetic attempt to stay standing, but no one dared to offer him any help. "Injuries?"
Lorne worked his jaw. "Two of my guys were stunned, a few Marines suffered minor concussions and cracked bones. Sergeant Murdock, Corporal Billings and Hastens were killed. He also took one of the com units, so we've limited all vital communication to computer e-mail only."
Ronon either didn't notice the impending explosion or thought it was a good idea to get it over with. He gave the wheelchair a slight nudge towards the colonel. "You might want to sit down before you fall."
John Sheppard could be prone to very irrational thought when he let anger cloud his judgment.
"Sonuvabitch!" he yelled and lashed out by kicking the wheelchair with his good leg, thus placing all of his weight on the one with a gaping hole.
Ronon caught Sheppard by the shoulders, supporting his total weight effortlessly while Lorne grabbed the chair and held it still.
"Get off of me, I'm fine!" Sheppard snapped, struggling against the big guy and trying not to fall on his ass.
Ronon maneuvered him into the wheelchair, even as the pilot tried to shake off any help.
The three men let their friend wait out the pain, even if the physical part wasn't the one doing the most damage. Guilt was a badge that many of them carried, but Sheppard was especially good at heaping those demerit points onto himself.
They waited and Rodney paced, not enjoying the whole crucification thing. The colonel sat up straighter, having tucked away all the unpleasantness under the rug, where he kept everything else.
"Give me a radio," Sheppard ordered to no one specific.
"Sir?" Lorne asked skeptically.
"Now, Major."
Lorne looked from Ronon to Rodney before plucking the com piece from his ear. "Here it is, but I already told you that--"
The pilot didn't pay the man any attention, thumbing it on. "Colonel Caldwell, this is Sheppard."
The radio was silent before a confused Caldwell responded. "Colonel Sheppard, what are you---?"
"I'm sorry about missing the meeting we had planned, but I wanted you to know that Carson cleared me for the conference with Ladon tomorrow. I know you wanted me to contact you earlier, but we're getting together later tonight about it."
"What the--"
"Sheppard out," he said, clicking off the transmission.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rodney exclaimed.
The colonel tossed the radio back to Lorne who caught it dumbfounded. "I'm ending this thing, that's what."
Sheppard was back in bed, the head raised high enough where he sat upright and IV where it belonged; Rodney saw him hit the PCA machine for a small dosage of his pain medication. Despite the bravado and anger, Sheppard was in desperate need of pharmaceutical relief and could barely move around after the balcony escapade. Rodney knew it was the longest the pilot had gone without morphine.
There was just enough time for the pain meds to take the edge off before the cavalry arrived for the impromptu meeting. Ronon and Teyla stood side by side, only to be matched by Caldwell and Elizabeth who made up the pair of book ends on the other side of the bed. Rodney sat on his bunk, thinking that his quarters were way too crowded for his liking.
Sheppard didn't even allow any of them get the first word before launching into his suicidal plan. "It's time to stop playing by his rules. We determine when and where this guy comes and on our own turf."
"By being bait?" Elizabeth asked exasperatedly.
"To flush him out," Sheppard corrected as if substituting the words made a difference.
"How is being out in the open any type of plan?" Teyla inquired.
"I won't be. I'll go shake Ladon's hand and go find a nice, out of the way place to--"
"Be target practice," Rodney finished for him.
"To be in position for our guys to take Voulsh out," Sheppard said, glaring at him.
"We can't guarantee your safety like that," Caldwell spoke up.
"You can't now. At least this way, we have more control," Sheppard countered.
Elizabeth spoke, turning to the rest of them before setting her eyes on Sheppard. "I don't like it."
"I'll wear a Kevlar vest."
Rodney turned to the pilot. "Oh, that'll save you if he aims for your head."
"Wouldn't we put in jeopardy the peace negotiations with the Genii by allowing the assassin into the proceeding? I don't think they would appreciate such deception," Teyla said, trying to include the big picture.
Ronon spoke up for the first time. "It's the Genii who hired the Rashakash."
"Not all of them. Ladon is the one who offered up the information to begin with," Elizabeth pointed out. "He didn't have to tell us. It was an olive branch."
Ronon shrugged. "Doesn't matter."
"We're talking a very volatile situation, Colonel," Caldwell addressed the pilot. "It could backfire big time."
"What would you do if our roles we're reversed, sir?" Sheppard asked.
The commander of the Daedalus considered the question and sighed. "I'd probably do the same thing."
Rodney raised his hand. "And who is going to be protecting the walking target? It's not like you can do very much to defend yourself."
"I can still fire a gun, McKay."
Ronon twirled his blaster in his hand. "I'll stand by him."
"As will I," Teyla added.
"No," Sheppard blurted.
"Can't order us not to," Ronon said, holstering the weapon.
The colonel didn't have a come back when Caldwell raised an eyebrow daring him to argue.
"It's a stupid plan," Rodney mumbled.
Sheppard turned to him. "It's all we've got. I'm not letting him kill any more people to get to me."
Caldwell looked to Elizabeth who didn't appear to be buying the whole concept at all. It was dangerous and unpredictable... a dumb solution derived from too many action movies.
In the end, there wasn't another answer.
"I'll get Lorne to help organize everything. We'll use our best black op's guys on this and whatever new ideas that Dr. McKay might have in trying to get past Voulsh's cloaking technology." Caldwell looked at his watch. "We don't have a hell of a lot of time to put this in motion and I suspect that Dr. Beckett might have something to say about this whole thing."
Rodney could see the facade cracking, Sheppard's careful mask crumbling under the strain of putting up his tough guy front. "Fine, we'll burn the midnight oil as it were. Now everyone get out. I'd like to have my room back. "
They slowly exited, each giving the colonel encouragement. Elizabeth lingered around and approached the bed. "Try to get some sleep; you're going to need it for this foolhardy stunt."
Rodney brought the laptop back on line and began his search for the proverbial needle in a haystack- the possibility of a weakness in the Rashakash's impenetrable defenses. He was tapping away on his keyboard when Sheppard's voice brought him out of the zone.
"Your computer was never broken." It wasn't a full outright accusation.
"Go to bed. Better yet, take your medication. You know how much you whine when that nurse gives you that shot in the stomach."
"I'm sure Carson will save that very pleasure when he comes here to lecture me."
"Your plan stands a snowball's chance in hell in working. You can't even stand, let alone wave the red flag in front of a charging bull."
"You can't stop the inevitable, Rodney. No matter how good your intentions."
It wasn't the retribution Rodney expected for his deceit earlier. Sheppard's words bothered him, but when he finally got the nerve to confront the man about it, he heard the release to the happy juice machine and the pilot's eyes were closed.
This wasn't fair. He hated this feeling of helplessness-- that he couldn't do a damn thing. That's when it hit him and he cursed Sheppard for making him understand all of his motivations.
Voulsh pulled out the plastic tube from its shoulder compartment, then looked in the mirror to see the damaged parts of his helmet before attempting to release the bottom section under his chin. He'd been trying to avoid disassembling it very often, but he needed to drink. The mouthpiece separated and he took his first breath of normal air; a stark change from the supplemental oxygen his mask supplied that enriched his veins and improved his stamina.
He placed the tube between his lips and drank until his daily requirement was reached. He was proud of his suit, comprised of many elements. The shielding, the cloak and the basic shell of the exoskeleton provided protection and the core component was once used for survival in the most arid of climates. He could sustain his need for water for weeks from the waste filtration system of the internal pouches.
He rubbed at the healing wounds around his cheek, his jaw still swollen from bullet ricochets. His grey skin was mottled blue and purple with bruises but at least his teeth were still intact. Voulsh walked away from the mirror and wandered around his hiding space, knowing that the 'Lanteans would never look right under their noses.
He would wait and bide his time before finishing the job. The military men had used a sprayable paint to mark him; it had been an unfortunate incident. They had been easily outsmarted, once again proving irrational emotional responses to be a flaw in any type of fight. But escaping the patrol had cost him an opportunity to strike and now the city was more alert than ever.
He gulped down more liquid, roaming the room and pausing to look around. The communication a few minutes ago had been a lure and he knew the meeting tomorrow was a trap, but one thing was for sure. His target would be there, ending the games in the dark.
John Sheppard would not cower and hide; the pleasure of killing him would be great indeed. It was just a matter of how and by what means. Voulsh flicked his wrist, the blade that had nearly taken such a valued life slipping into the palm of his hand. Maybe he would use it to finally fulfill his oath.
His internal communications device squawked and he tapped his ear in irritation. There was to have been no interruption until his job was complete. Only one person had this frequency and he answered in anger.
"Why have you broken silence?"
"It has been days without word from you."
He moved around the small space, studying the portrait in front of him. "I have not completed my mission yet. It has proven challenging, but I expect results by tomorrow."
"Yes, we know."
Voulsh wondered about the significance of the dark clothed man, what influence he held. "As I told you before, I have never failed."
"We are aware, but there has been a change in plans. Your services are no longer needed."
He froze. "My job is incomplete."
"A rare opportunity has arisen. We have a plan in motion to take out not only Colonel Sheppard, but that of the person who kept our revenge away from us."
Voulsh found himself in front of a desk, eying the strange replica. He fingered the wings of a flying machine, interested in the detail used to re-create it. "You wish me to take on another assignment during the meeting with your leadership?"
"No. We have a man who will take care of everything for us. We will pay you for your time, but our plans do not include your help."
He stared at a picture of another man in a very bright costume. "That is unacceptable. I will not stop what I have begun."
"We are terminating your contract --"
"I will kill Sheppard. There is no renegotiation. There is only one way for this to end and that is by my hand."
"Voulsh! The deal is off! We will not tolerate---"
He cut off the transmission and set the control to his radio on mute. They did not fully comprehend the scope of any assignment; it wasn't theirs to dictate. Once a life had been sworn to be taken, it was the only existing goal. Nothing else mattered. Voulsh would not allow them to interfere. He sat down on Sheppard's bunk, taking in the man's scant possessions.
He had already set upon his course and would not be stopped.