Richard Woolsey nodded politely to the pair of scientists as he passed. He wondered if he'd ever manage to remember all the names of the lab-coat population of the city. Considering they had one name to remember…his…and he had several hundred to remember in return, he figured he was doing quite well considering many of the resident geniuses rarely ventured away from their laboratories.
He let the two gentlemen by, then continued forward, squinting at the upcoming intersection. Left was the transporter and right lead back to around to the main corridor. Or was that the other way around?
As he neared the intersecting corridor he stepped right, hesitated, turned left, paused, then turned back again. Pounding footsteps and shouted orders startled him out of his introspection. He jumped aside as two security teams careened around the corner, armed and moving at a full out run.
"Gentlemen! What—" he trailed off when the Marines disappeared around a corner heading in what he assumed was the direction of the transporter.
His agitation level spiked when two more teams sprinted across an intersection several yards back down the corridor he'd just exited. He spun around, moving to follow the new arrivals, then hesitated again when a fifth team ran full out behind him, disappearing down the intersecting hallway.
He reached for his earpiece but his fingers found only his ear. He check the other side of his head then cursed. He immediately pictured the exact location of his com system—sitting on the corner of his desk where he'd momentarily removed it to scratch a bothersome itch behind his right ear.
Hurrying off it what he hoped was the direction of the transporter, Richard prayed for sanity, calm, and the timely return of Colonel Sheppard's team.
Running, armed Marines was never…ever…a good sign.
Evan was halfway through a requisition report when Laura's shouting call was broadcast across the open military channel. He was over his desk and out the door by the time the screaming message was abruptly cut off in a hiss of static.
Dread tightened its clawing fingers around his throat. If they were on the surface level of the pier… The distance down to the water… A fall from that height would be fatal. He sent up a silent prayer they'd been on the lower catwalk.
He hit the hallway at a dead run, scrambling security teams and ordering a level one city wide lockdown.
His heart tried to break his concentration. He shoved it away. It was time for clarity. Not emotion. The thought of losing her—them—was not an option.
Smacking to a stop against the back wall of the transporter, he jabbed his thumb at the gate-room level while ordering SGA 9 and 12 to take jumpers and scan the towers overlooking the north west pier. He then commanded SGA7 to secure the jumper bay. Aside from 9, 12 and himself, no one was getting in…or out.
He exited the transporter with a sprinters leap, yelling for Chuck to instruct all non-essential personnel to remain out of the hallways.
He took the stairs to the jumper bay three at a time, nearly colliding with Sanchez who was coming in hard and fast from the other side. Running up the ramp of the nearest jumper, he slammed his hand down on the ramp control as he passed by, the Captain hot on his heels.
Evan launched himself into the cockpit of the jumper, willing the roof access to open as he reached for the controls. The jumper shot up and out into the clear blue sky. They banked a hard right then dropped down with the gut spilling speed of a roller coaster. After a close succession of turns through the lower towers they rocketed out across the surface of the north west pier.
Laura surfaced with a splash. Coughing, she shoved her wet hair away from her face. "Better?"
"Better," Jen nodded quickly. The frigid water stung her bare feet, but without the added weight of her shoes and socks, the motion of her legs was easier. "Thanks."
"Remember. Just like we practiced," Laura nodded encouragingly. "Breathe in and out through your nose and make steady motions."
Jen tried to breathe evenly but the adrenaline rush of being shot at, tackled, dragged off a catwalk and falling several floors into a shockingly cold ocean, was making lung control extremely difficult. She cursed Pegasus. Cursed the freezing ocean. And cursed the idiot who was using them for target practice.
The idiot who was still out there somewhere…
The rolling surge of the tide lifted and dropped, pulling them away from the towering sides of the pier. With the shadows of the city spires above, it felt like she was floating through downtown New York.
Laura's attention shifted away from Jen to the towers above. Jen tried to look up but the change in concentration caused her to drop below the surface. Panic spiked and she kicked frantically, trying to shove herself back up again.
She felt Laura's presence at her back. Water churned around her. Laura's arm clamped hard down across one shoulder, yanking her upwards. Jen's alarm gave way to recognition of the rescue position when they broke the surface. She sucked air into her lungs and released her clamping hold on Laura's arm.
"You good?" Laura asked from behind her.
Jen bobbled her head. "Yeah. I'm okay."
Laura released her and Jen resumed treading water on her own.
"Legs and arms," Laura instructed, swimming around so she could face Jen from the front. "Circles. Steady circles. Just like we practiced in the pool."
Jen repeated the instructions. "Circles, circles, circles," she chanted, fighting the burn in her limbs. Fear at the thought of still being a target, she stared wide eyed at her friend. "Are they gone?"
"Yeah," Laura answered.
"I hope they heard you," Jen wondered aloud, cursing the fall from the catwalk. The slamming pressure of the water had torn off both com units, leaving them defenseless.
"Of course they heard me. Until you screamed like a banshee." Laura grinned, but her eyes held a tense worry.
"Did not."
"Did."
Jen blinked water out of her eyes. "Then where are they?"
"It's only been ten minutes, tops," Laura made a face. "We did longer sessions in the pool."
"Heated pool," Jen countered. "Freeking cold ocean."
"Pfft," Laura splashed her hand down in the water. "It's a little tepid, sure…"
"Tepid?" Jen snorted, sank, then pushed back up, coughing.
Laura made a face. "Don't worry, Princess, rescue teams will be here any second…" she glanced back up along the edge of the pier high above, "…any second…"
"They'd better," Jen ran a quick calculation of their body weight against the estimated water temperature and came up with a short answer. They didn't have much longer before hypothermia set in.
"There!" Sanchez leaned across the console and pointed at the water below.
Evan cut their speed and followed the direction of his Captain's gaze. He caught sight of two shapes bobbing along the surges. Two shapes, to women, both alive. He fought off the feelings of relief—the crisis was not over. They still had to get them out of the ocean.
Two jumpers sped by him.
"McAllister, Collins. Sweep the towers bordering the pier for lifesigns," he commanded. "If you find anything, hold and contain. We're going in."
Affirmative replies came back and the two jumpers moved into a covering position above the water.
Sanchez jumped out of the co-pilots seat and moved quickly to the cargo area. He yanked off his boots and socks. Moving to the back he pulled the gate release and dropped the rear hatch.
Evan skimmed across the surface, slowing as he neared the pair of swimmers. Holding position several feet above the rolling surface he spun the jumper around. Glancing back over his shoulder he watched Sanchez take two quick strides off the gate and execute a textbook dive.
After a quick succession of strokes, the Captain hooked his arm around the Doc and pulled her back towards the submerged lip of the tailgate. Laura swam ahead, grabbing onto the grillwork along the edge of the ramp to haul herself out of the water. She turned and helped Jen up out of the water.
Once all three were safely inside the cargo area, Evan triggered the gate control from the front console and guided the jumper up into the air.
"Everyone okay?" he asked from the front of the jumper.
"Yes—" Laura began.
"No," Jen snapped.
Jen's voice sounded too close to Doctor mode. Evan turned, noting the red rivulets of blood mixed water trailing down Laura's forearm.
"It's just a scratch." Laura turned her head towards him, the directness of her gaze breaking through Evan's protective barriers.
"It's not just a scratch," Jen scowled and pulled at the velcro around the iPod. Shattered pieces of the white casing dropped with a clatter to the floor.
Sanchez knelt beside Jen and held out a field dressing.
Furious yet relieved, Evan turned away before he said something he couldn't take back. A dozen whispered curses followed a dozen silent endearments as he piloted the small ship back to the jumper bay. He was going to kick Laura's ass for scaring him like that...right after he reminded her just how much she meant to him.
Concentrating on the team assignments, he received confirmation they'd lost the shooter.
He knew Laura's route, and had made her swear to stick to it today. He'd digest the implications of that later, but for now, he understood that based on their position in the water, and the fact they were both still alive after the fall, they'd been on the catwalk when they'd gone over. The catwalk would only have been visible from the top half of the outer towers on the north east pier.
As they descended through the roof access, he ordered the two jumper teams to return. Whoever it was would be long gone, using the city transporters as his escape route.
There would be no one to chase.
This time.
Sitting on the side of a gurney, Jen felt a feathery tingle whisper across the base of her neck. She knew without looking who'd just walked into the infirmary, but she turned her head anyway. Ronon strode forward, covering the distance in half the time it would have taken her. He stopped next to the bed, his aura wrapping her in an emotionally charged blanket of testosterone forced calm.
She stilled her kicking feet, letting her bare toes dangle in the air above the cold floor.
He gave her a full head to toe once over, warming her more than the blanket she clutched around her chilled shoulders. "You okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah. Just…wet. Cold."
"You're welcome…" Laura chimed in from her perch on the next bed.
"Oh hush," Marie tisked, finishing the sutures.
John and Evan rounded the corner and joined the small group.
"Sir," Laura nodded, holding her arm out so Marie could wrap a strip of gauze around her bicep.
"Lieutenant. Doc." John said briskly. "Tell me."
While Laura repeated the details of their excursion, Jen's attention drifted to the man standing beside her. It was like sitting next to a winged gargoyle. A sudden image of him towering over the lip of a building made her giggle. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. Okay. She was definitely losing it.
"…he isn't a pro...," Laura was saying, "…the shots were wild. At that distance, any sniper worth half his ammo would have made the shot clean and easy."
Clean and easy? Jen shivered at the bluntness of the explanation. Beside her, Ronon shifted his weight. She glanced up, losing herself in his dark expression.
"Okay." John ran his hand through his hair then dropped his arm to his side. "Until we get to the bottom of this, you two are not to go anywhere without an armed escort."
Laura's groan was cut off by a sharp glare from both the Colonel and the Major.
"This is not open for discussion, Lieutenant," John said curtly.
While she stared up at Ronon, Jen had half a mind to tell Laura to stuff it. An armed escort sounded like a really, really good idea right about now. She tightened her grip on the blanket and forced her mind to stop it's merry wandering back to the nearly being shot and nearly drowning part. Two things she'd really rather just forget about. Along with the whole week in fact. Yes, forgetting about the entire week seemed like a brilliant idea.
"Doc?" Ronon's low tones snapped her back into the current situation.
"Hmm?" She blinked, then looked around at the others, each of whom was watching her with an air of concern.
Except Laura, who was smirking.
"What," Jen narrowed her gaze and glared across the gap between the beds at Laura.
Laura pursed her lips then shook her head. "I didn't say anything."
John leaned forward. "Ronon's going to take you back to your quarters, Doc. If you need to leave for any reason, I want you to call one of us. No exceptions."
"Of course," Jen agreed, sliding of the bed.
"Nice protest," Laura muttered.
Jen made a face when her bare feet hit the cold floor. "You protest," she shrugged. "I want a hot shower."
"Hmm," Laura brightened. "Good idea!"
"No getting that wet," Jen pointed to the bandage.
Laura looked down at her arm. "I have plastic wrap."
"T-M-I, Spaz." Jen whispered, grinning when Laura wriggled her eyebrows.
Jen walked past the bed, shaking her head at Laura's fading argument as to why she didn't need an armed guard if she herself was armed. As Jen neared the corridor, the thoughts of why they both needed an armed guard translated into her stride. She hesitated to leave the comfort and security of her infirmary, her space, for the unknown hallways.
"Relax, Doc," Ronon leaned down, his tone calm and reassuring. "You're safe."
Jen took a deep breath and forced herself to move. Safe was a state of calm she wasn't sure she was going to feel for a long time coming. But the further she walked alongside her appointed sentry, the more her anxiety seemed to recede until she was left with nothing but a lead-limbed state of exhaustion.
They reached the doors to her quarters and she slid her hand over the access. She stopped under the weight of Ronon's hand on her shoulder.
"Wait," he commanded softly.
He reached past her to trigger the lighting control inside the door of her room. After a quick survey he nodded and stepped aside. Jen stepped into her empty room, eying her bed with longing. Lord but she was tired. And hungry. And cold. And reeked of seawater.
She turned back around, bringing herself face to chest with Ronon. Her lack of footwear made him appear even taller, and she had to tip her head to see his face. "I, um… thanks," she managed. "For walking me back."
His gaze shifted around the room, then returned to hers. After a moment's silence, he nodded, as though coming to some kind of decision. Jen wasn't sure what he'd been considering, but judging from the darkness in his expression, it was important.
"If you need anything, I'll be right outside."
"What?" Jen grabbed for his arm when he took a step back. She didn't realize how cold her hands were until her fingers burned against his forearm. She released him quickly and shook her head. "You're not waiting outside."
"Jennifer, you heard Sheppard."
"No," she shook her head quickly. "I mean…yes, I heard him, but no, you don't have to…to…stand in the hallway. I'm just going to shower and change then maybe go get something to eat. I can call you when I'm done."
"I'll wait." he said firmly, then turned towards the door.
"Ronon," Jen stepped forward.
He stopped beside her closed door and turned back. The expression on his face, in his eyes, told her there'd be no sense arguing.
Even if she wanted to.
Feeling one part embarrassed at the relief she felt knowing he would stay, and one part angry that he'd be stubborn enough to stand outside her door like a…a… well…like some kind of gargoyle, she jabbed her index finger towards a chair in the corner of the room near her desk.
"Sit."
He didn't move.
Jen clamped her cold fingers around his warm hand and tugged him towards the chair. "Sit," she said again, then released his hand. "I won't be long."
She dropped the wet blanket from around her shoulders and gathered her things. With a parting glance at the man still standing next to the chair in the corner, she hurried into the bathroom. She briefly wondered if he'd stay, or if she'd find him outside in the hallway when she was done. She smiled from behind the bathroom door at the soft creaking of the chair.
He might be stubborn, but at the moment he was her stubborn.
She peeled of her wet clothes and stepped into the shower, taking comfort in the knowledge that nothing would be getting past the man in the next room.
