Part 12

Pope spent the majority of his afternoon going from one burned out building to the next, searching through the rubble and ash for any possible sign of his mission goal. Stepping over several withered husks of human remains, he hunkered down to take a closer look at one individual who still clutched some sort of device in a useless death grip. Careful not to alert the others who worked close by, he pried the item free and tucked it away for future examination. When the sporadic sound of gunfire suddenly erupted from somewhere outside, followed by excited yelling and instant chatter over the radio, he pulled himself up to his feet and made his way over to the nearest window, acutely aware of the individuals in the room who followed.

Two stories below on the debris strewn street, soldiers were taking defensive positions, their attention intently focused on something advancing that Pope couldn't make out. When the unmistakable whine of a low flying dart screamed directly overhead, he actually dropped to his knees and tucked himself against the wall, suddenly very aware of what was happening, while the others around him murmured excitedly in terrified whispers.

More rattling weapons fire of P-90s followed by the explosive pound of RPGs forced him once more back to his feet. Several scientists waved him to get down; their hoarse whispers demanded that he to take cover but went ignored. He wove his way through the building and down the partially collapsed back stairway, exited on the opposite side of the firefight and then worked his way back around so that he could go unseen by the soldiers.

The dart whined overhead a second time, its beam raking the ground in search of victims only to come up empty once more.

Pope's eyes narrowed as he studied the ships movement, judged the pilot of the craft by its maneuvers. His fixed gaze never left the alien vessel as he reached into his vest and plucked one of the items he'd liberated from the lab earlier, and attached it to his chest. The small static charge engulfed him as the soft green glow emanated from the shield.

The dart turned off in the distance and was coming back for another pass when Pope allowed himself a grim chuckle, 'Persistent bastard'. While the others focused their attention on the advancing vessel he waited for it to go past his position. With another one of his 'toys' rapidly assembled and resting against his shoulder, he waited until the very last moment before stepping out and firing.

No audible sound was emitted, no flash of explosives filled the sky, but the dart suddenly dropped like a stone to careen across several rooftops, its momentum carried it over the side to crash into a decimated alley below.

Pope glanced back over his shoulder to the rushing soldiers still a block behind him. Knowing he had little time, he bolted forward towards the smoking vessel and reached it just as the dark, bloodied demon from within emerged. The two stared at each other before the Wraith hissed and lunged for Pope, its hand grabbed for the scientist's chest, before it drew back.

A momentary flash of confusion clouded its face before it sneered, seeing the handgun in its prey's right hand, "That cannot stop us."

"No," Pope added with a sneer of his own, "but this might." He pressed the handle of the Zat he was holding in his left hand, felt the weapon activate before he fired a single blast at the wraith's chest. When the alien glanced towards where he was hit, but showed no sign of collapsing, Pope fired again using both weapons. This time the Wraith folded like a deck of cards.

The sound of rapidly advancing footsteps signaled the weapons specialist and he tucked the Zat back under his vest before the others reached his side.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" the major in charge yelled as he shoved Pope back away from the wreckage and the body towards safety. Several more military members arrived, their weapons aimed at the wraith, just waiting for a reason to fire.

"Apparently doing what you can't!" Pope shot back without restraint. "I wasn't about to stand back and watch my colleagues end up on the buffet because you and your team of jackasses can't even shoot down one damn dart."

Not used to being back talked to by one of McKay's lackeys in such a manner, the major bristled. "You listen here, Doctor. While you are off world, you are under my command. I don't care if you have a signed note from your mommy, Dr. Weir, or McKay himself, you will follow my orders. "

Pope stood rigid at his full height, towering over the officer, contempt radiating off of him like heat from a raging fire. "I'm here to do a job, Major. Not to be coddled by a bunch of misfit military wannabe's that could only dream of understanding what I'm working on."

"And just what is that, Dr. Prope? Maybe you'd care to spell it out slowly to the rest of us just how, or rather what you used to bring that dart down. Because, I'm pretty damn sure that what I saw back there wasn't Earth issue regulation arms."

"Sir?" one of the junior officers stepped cautiously up to the pair.

"What!" both men snapped.

The lieutenant's gaze shifted between the two, before he focused on his commander. "Sir, the power is completely drained from the dart; all its systems have been wiped clean."

Major Culbert paused, his eyes narrowed as he shifted his piercing gaze back to Pope. "What did you do?"

"I neutralized its systems with a type of EM pulse that we were testing back on Earth. Like the young man just said, it wipes all power signatures clean."

The major scrubbed a hand over his jaw, his chest heaving in agitation. "So you're saying that whatever signatures it had stored inside its database are now gone?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Lieutenant, how many personnel did we lose because of this ship?"

The younger man swallowed and licked his lips. "Four, sir, that we know of."

"Because of your gizmo, four essential personnel of Atlantis were neutralized! We don't have resources or people available for you to experiment on, Doctor! Do I make myself clear?"

The situation was escalating to a dangerous boiling point between the two men and Pope wasn't one to ever back away from a fight. He took a step forward, his voice unsympathetic, "This is war, Major, and in every war there will be collateral damage. It's the price every individual decided to pay when they accepted their post to Pegasus."

"They might have decided that the risk was acceptable, but that didn't give you the right to play God with their lives! I want you back on Atlantis, now!"

"I don't give a damn what you want. I'm here to do a job, and I'm not leaving until I'm finished."

Culbert's hand dropped to rest warningly on the sidearm attached to his thigh. Before he got the chance to use it, one of the men guarding the ship called over to his superior.

"Major, sir, the wraith appears to be dead. What do you want us to do?"

His jaw tight with simmering anger, he broke the stare down first to glance away and acknowledge the question. "Call the others. Let them know it's time to pack up, we're heading home."

The last thing Pope wanted to do was leave the downed ship. "I need ten minutes with the wreckage to retrieve some equipment," he said with a forced sigh of resignation. Playing games was something he was very good at, and if letting the Major think he'd won got him what he needed, then for now, so be it.

The other man studied him closely, weighing his options before making his decision. "If I don't see you in fifteen, back at the gate with all of your gear ready to go, my men will bring you back using whatever force they deem necessary. Is that clear enough for you to understand, Dr. Prope?"

SG: A

The Atlantis physician ignored the canceled call to the infirmary. Small kit in hand, he took his time on his way down to the main science lab. Perhaps, by the time he got there, his entrance would create less suspicion if he claimed to be checking on Sheppard, instead of seeing for himself how Rodney was really doing. He slipped inside the already opened doors and discovered the team, plus Radek, seated around a table deep in discussion.

"Wraith technology?" Sheppard asked, shifting his leg with a grimace to a more comfortable position. "Anything specific?"

Radek tapped out a command, bringing up a page that displayed the alien's weapon systems. "It appears to be all information regarding stunner capabilities. But that is not all that they copied." Another series of commands, another page displayed caused the physician to step forward and stare closer at the screen.

"That is my analysis of the Wraith hand that was brought to me for study," Beckett said irritably. "Someone tapped into my medical files?"

"Tap is putting it mildly," Rodney huffed. "From what I've been able to trace, they copied all of your Retrovirus data, Sheppard's records, information in regards to the enzyme, Ronon's, Teyla's and my overdose histories, and any work you've done since then."

Carson gaped in indignation at the pages displayed, and then to the surrounding group. "And you didn't feel the need to inform me of what you'd found? Why didn't you come and tell me as soon as you knew?"

"Calm down, doc. We just found out ourselves," Sheppard replied before Rodney went into meltdown mode. "McKay just figured it out before you got here."

Letting his eyes examine the man in question, Carson studied the weary scientist seated on the stool who was refusing to meet his gaze. Rodney's stiff shoulders were nothing compared to the exhausted expression that eventually turned to irritably stare back. "Sorry, my mouth got ahead of my brain."

"Not the first time," Rodney snarked back.

Sheppard decided to break it up before it got ugly. "Gentlemen, I realize the two of you insulting each other makes for good entertainment for the rest of us, but we don't have the time right now. Rodney, Radek, is there anything else here that can help us?" he asked, his hand tapping the monitor behind him.

Radek pulled off his glasses to rub away an ache that settled behind the arch of his nose. "No, we are one step behind."

"Then maybe we need to go back to the beginning." Dropping his foot to the floor, Sheppard slowly stood up and tested his knee. It felt stiff, a little sore, but functional. He gave Beckett a nod as he limped past and stopped at the door. "Let's go back down to the cargo hold. See if we can dig anything else up that might give us a better idea of what or who we are up against."

Ronon and Teyla followed him across the room. Seeing that the others appeared to be staying, he frowned. "I could use your help, McKay."

"As much fun as playing detective with you might be, I have serious work to get done. Security needs to be reestablished in the main systems, I have to make sure no other programs have been hacked into by your little band of admirers, and…" he paused, not able to come up with a third reason.

"Dr. Z, think you can cover those?" Sheppard knew the answer before he asked it and had to admire the second scientist as he reached over and gave Rodney a push off the stool.

"Go. I need to be able to think without listening to you bang on keys and curse like ugly rejected secretary in typing pool."

"Fine," Rodney huffed, stood up and tugged his shirt straight. "I do all the work, and you take all the glory. Fine." Stalking past Sheppard, with Carson close on his heels, he grumbled about not needing a talking dog or the Mystery Machine, since he was already surrounded by the fictional characters of Dr. Who, Conan, Xena, and Captain Kirk.

SG: A

They found the cargo area with the bay doors partially open. The afternoon sunlight streamed in across the stacks of crates still piled high, to cast long shadows across the back of the floor. Work teams sorted stacks, having other crews transfer them onto waiting jitneys to be delivered across Atlantis, while members of engineering hammered and repaired the damaged doors and controls.

Sparks showered in a blaze of yellow, before a string of curses filled the air from the man attempting to patch Sheppard's little screwdriver mayhem. "Cut the power!" he yelled while giving his zapped arm a good shake. The spray immediately died, leaving a dark singe mark along the wall. More muttering could be heard and a well placed kick hit the wall before the engineer returned to panel.

"I see you're making new friends," Rodney quipped with a smug smile aimed at Sheppard, before he took another bite of the sandwich he'd snagged on the way down.

"I've been taking lessons from you, McKay." Watching the engineer get back to work on the unit, Sheppard nodded, "You know, there are so many new faces on Atlantis, it's hard to keep track of who is who anymore."

"Dr. Taylor," Rodney mumbled over a mouthful of bread. With a quick swallow, he waved his hand dismissively, "He was recruited from Area 51."

Teyla looked to Ronon and the large man shrugged, so she turned to Carson, "What is Area 51?"

Carson rolled his eyes, "American top secret alien research facility that the whole bloody world knows about."

"Then why is it top secret?"

"You'd have to ask the Colonel, lass. I'm from the other side of the pond."

Teyla looked even more confused as she followed the rest of the team over to where the man was working.

"Sounds like I owe you an apology," Sheppard said loud enough for Dr. Taylor to hear over all the surrounding noise.

The backward ball cap wearing man abruptly stopped and turned around in surprise. His eyes hidden behind his large protective goggles, he cleared his throat before pointing back towards the wall. "Your little incident didn't make my job any easier."

"Yeah, about that, next time someone's shooting at me, I'll try to take it easier on the engineering team."

"You do that." The engineer cracked a small smile and put out his hand, "Dr. John Taylor."

Sheppard gripped the leather clad hand and squeezed. "Col. John Sheppard. Good to have you here, Taylor."

Taylor returned the grip before letting go. "If you don't mind, Colonel," he waved a screwdriver in the air towards the half repaired control.

"Yep, didn't mean to keep you." Giving the man a friendly pat on the back of the shoulder, he returned to the rest of his team and missed seeing the man flinch. But Rodney didn't.

"Hit the guy a little harder, next time. He fixes your mess and you beat him up."

"What are you talking about, McKay?"

Carson overheard the comment and glanced to see what Rodney was talking about, in time to catch Dr. Taylor squeeze the back of his shoulder and roll his neck. "What'd you do now?" he teased Sheppard, before shaking his head and wandering over to check on the man.

"I didn't hit him that hard." His eyes followed the physician as he went to speak to Taylor and tried to look innocent as both men turned his way. Carson was saying something else and the other man shook his head 'no' but it looked to be a losing battle. Finally, setting his tools down with an air of resignation, the engineer gave in and headed back towards the hallway as Carson returned.

"I think he might have hurt himself working on the panel and you must have aggravated the injury. Most likely nothing serious. I'll be back as soon as I'm done." He made to follow Taylor before stopping for one last retort aimed at the remaining four, "Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

The team watched him go, but their leader was focused on the other man. There was something about the way the engineer walked, holding the back of his neck, that bothered Sheppard. And when the object of his attention turned around and glance h is way, having removed the protective goggles, the colonel took an involuntary step forward.

TBC