Chapter 11: Rescue At Last

Three hours later and the engineers hadn't managed to dig anywhere near as deep as they wanted. The discovery of both the cavern and the chair had complicated the situation and meant that the work had to be carried out slower than anyone liked. It felt like every five minutes, they had to stop and check the scans and ask Sheppard if he had heard anything. The wait for his responses became more and more nerve-wracking, and even the smallest of creaks from the damaged structure made everyone stop.

Two steps forward, one step back…

Ronon was stood next to Carson looking ready to explode. He had offered to help with the digging, but his request had been refused. Apparently, he was too heavy – Radek had said something about only using the lighter members of the assembled teams to prevent any excess pressure on the cavern roof. The Satedan knew that it was a sensible idea, but that didn't stop him from being angry about it.

"I hate this."

Beckett regarded the huge man with a sympathetic expression – he too had been made to wait on the sidelines for the same reason. The Scotsman wasn't overweight as such, but there were a number of scientists that were lighter than him and he had to admit that if something went wrong, it would be safer if he was readily available. So, he had reluctantly agreed to stay in radio contact with John to help monitor both his and Rodney's condition.

He offered a wane smile. "I know, lad, but there's not much we can do about it."

The ex-runner shook his head. "I should be doing something," he insisted. "I'm no good when I can't help." He sighed. "Sorry, doc. I just don't like standing still."

Carson patted the man's back. "Aye, it's a bugger, isn't it?"

Ronon turned and smiled back. "Yeah," he agreed. "How're they doing?"

The physician sighed. "I don't know," he admitted softly. "All I'm sure of is that the delay in reaching them won't have done much good."

"They are both strong," Teyla said, stepping over to them. "We must remain positive." She had been granted permission to dig and had been doing so without a break for the last hour and a half. She had only stopped because a sharp piece of rock had sliced her hand open, which she held out for inspection.

"Och, love, that looks nasty."

She shrugged. "I can not feel anything, but it does appear to be bleeding quite heavily." She paused, frowning. "Where is Major Lorne?"

"Check-in," Ronon replied.

Carson pulled out some disinfectant and gently washed the wound out before applying a bandage. "How much further 'til you reach them?"

She shook her head. "I am unsure, but Radek believes that we are close."

"Doc!"

The Scotsman's hand flew up to his radio. "Aye, Colonel?"

John's voice was shaking. "Doc, there's something wrong with Rodney. I don't think he can breathe properly."

Damn and blast! "Okay, lad, I want you to try and take his pulse for me."

There was a short pause and then the American replied: "It's getting weaker. I can only just feel it."

"What's wrong with him?" asked Ronon, looking thunderous.

Carson shook his head at the Satedan before replying, "Colonel, is the debris on his chest restricting his movements?"

"Hang on, I need to move the torch… Yeah. One of the rocks has shifted a bit. Should I try and get it off him?"

"Aye, son, but be careful. I don't want you to hurt yourself further."

"It's okay, Carson. I can reach it from where I am. Just give me a minute and I'll get back to you."

The three of them waited in tense silence, listening to the soft grunts of exertion coming from over their headsets. Suddenly, there was a cry of pain.

"Sheppard?" Ronon said.

"What's happened?" asked Carson.

"Ow… Fuck!"

"John? John, please, you have to tell us what is wrong," Teyla urged.

"I'm… I'm okay," Sheppard panted. "I just had a twinge in my back… Moved the rock."

"Has Rodney's breathing changed?"

"Yeah, doc. It's a lot better. Damn, that hurt." There was a cough. "I think… I think I can hear movement."

Not hearing the last part of Sheppard's transmission, Beckett bit his lip as his mind raced through the various scenarios from the pilot's efforts. None of them were promising – he could have slipped a disc, cracked something or perhaps even have crushed one of his vertebrae. He hoped to God that it was just a muscular spasm from being in an unusual position for such a long time.

Sheppard's voice pulled him away from his internal musings. "Hey! Hey, I can see daylight! We're in here! GUYS, WE'RE IN HERE!!!"

"Thank God," Carson breathed. Beside him, Teyla and Ronon exchanged relieved smiles.

Beckett and the others ran over to the edge of the wreckage. "Radek!" he called. "Have you found them?"

"Ano, priteli!" the engineer shouted back excitedly. "We have them!"

"Okay, Mike, run and get me two spinal boards, plus the IV lines and bags. Oh, and plenty of blankets, my field kit and a couple of neck braces."

The medic in question nimbly hopped down from the ruins and raced away.

"Rodney, it's okay," they heard Sheppard say via the radio. "They found us, buddy. We're finally blowing this joint."

Radek shouted for rope and as soon as Mike the medic had returned with the requested items, they quickly fashioned two rescue baskets using the stretchers.

"Colonel, I am sending down two men with Carson to help free you," Radek said, as he started to set up a winch. "We will have to make hole bigger, so cover your head as best you can."

"Not a problem," came the weary reply.

"God, I hate heights," the Scot mumbled.

Ronon grinned as he pulled on his thick gloves. "Don't worry, doc. I won't let you fall."

Oddly enough, Carson believed that.

"Miles, Geoff, I want you to go down to clear rocks from inside," Radek was saying to two of his team. "When you are down there, you will follow Dr Beckett's instructions. If he asks you to do something, you follow his orders."

"Sure thing, Radek," Geoff replied in a lazy southern drawl. "We'll take a look-see and let you know if any tools are gonna be needed."

As soon as the hole was large enough, Radek and Ronon helped the three men into their harnesses. Once the ropes had been secured and moved into place, Carson got ready to abseil.

___________________________________________________________________________

When Beckett set down inside the remains of the room, he was shaking – partly from fear of having to drop down into the small space, and partly of what he would find when he reached the bottom.

John and Rodney were lying close together, both pinned under a lot of debris. Looking around what was left of the chamber, Carson found that he was relieved that Rodney had been so out of it – the space was tiny and even though he didn't suffer from claustrophobia, it was uncomfortable. He dreaded to think how the physicist would have coped if he'd been lucid enough. Still, now that there was a sizeable hole in the roof with fresh air and daylight pouring in, the oppressive atmosphere seemed to fade slightly. Disengaging himself from his harness, he called up to the others.

"Okay, I'm down. Can you lower my field kit?"

Seconds later, his kit was lying next to his feet, and Miles and Geoff quickly followed.

He told the two engineers to wait until he had examined John and Rodney before moving anything – the last thing he wanted was to cause further damage to either of the trapped men. He knelt down next to Sheppard. "Hello, son."

"Hey, doc," John replied with a small grin. "Good to see you."

"Likewise, Colonel. I'm just going to have a wee look at you." He moved to check the pilot's pulse but found Sheppard's hand clamped around his wrist.

"Rodney first," John said, seeing the questioning look on the Scotsman's face. "Seriously, doc, I can wait a couple of minutes."

"Okay," Beckett replied quietly, smiling at the American's selfless gesture. He shifted around and took in the sight before him. McKay was a mess. Carson winced when he saw the physicist's mauled left arm and tutted as he examined the head wound. He gingerly felt the fingers of McKay's left hand – they were cold, but he could still make out a radial pulse. "Och, lad," he whispered as he applied a small dressing to the cut just above the physicist's temple. "Why do you always come off worse?" He checked Rodney's pulse and breathing, and, apparently satisfied, turned back to John. "Your turn," he said.

This time Sheppard relented and allowed the physician to examine him. "Can you feel anything?"

John shook his head gingerly. "No. Is that bad?" he whispered.

For a moment, Carson saw the fear in the Colonel's eyes and laid a hand on his arm reassuringly. "I can nae promise you anything, lad," he said, "but there's a strong chance that the damage is purely muscular. Are there any shooting or stabbing pains anywhere?"

"No."

"That's good." Checking the pilot's lower body, he was relieved to find no blood anywhere. He felt around John's right leg – it was swollen badly, but the bone hadn't pierced the skin. "You're not bleeding, so hopefully, we'll just be dealing with a straight forward fracture to your leg." He looked up at the engineers and nodded. "Okay, lads, off you go. But be careful and take it slowly. If you're asked to stop, I expect you to do so immediately. Colonel, if anything hurts while they're working, you just holler."

As the men began to clear the detritus, John nodded before looking back at McKay – and beamed when he saw that the man was finally awake. "Hey, buddy," he said. "Nice of you to join us."

Carson was by his side in an instant. "Rodney? Can you look up?" He pulled out a penlight and flashed it in front of the scientist's eyes. Whatever the reaction had been, it was obviously not the one the doctor had been looking for. Grimacing, he held up a finger. "I want you to follow my finger," he said, waving it back and forth in front of McKay's face.

Even from his awkward position, John could see that something was wrong with the way Rodney's head sluggishly followed Beckett's hand, his eyes not tracking properly.

"Do you know where you are?" Carson asked.

McKay's brow creased. "C-Cars'n?" he croaked.

"Aye, mo chara, it's me."

"Hurts…"

"I know," Beckett soothed, "but we'll have you on your good drugs soon."

"Where… where's John?"

"I'm here, Rodney," Sheppard croaked, reaching a hand out and placing it on his friend's shoulder.

Rodney managed a weak smile. "Hey…" he whispered.

"Hey, yourself." John's throat felt tight and he blinked furiously. "You need to stop doing this, y'know. It worries the doc."

"So… so do… you… Hotshot," McKay replied.

That was the last thing that John heard as his final reserves of adrenaline ran out and blackness overcame him.