Ronon walked away from the sealed door and examined the rest of the room. Other than the console, there wasn't much to see. He glowered at the leathery walls and forced himself not to slam his fist into one.

He had survived seven years as a runner. He wasn't going to die in a Wraith trap now, he vowed. If they couldn't get out of the room through the door, he'd find another way. Or make one, he thought as he ran his hands over the wall next to the door.

The wall felt damp, almost slimy, and Ronon grimaced as he wiped his hand on his trousers.

A blast from the particle weapon probably wouldn't have much effect, Ronon thought, remembering how the walls simply absorbed the energy when he fired on the Wraith hologram. Would it be possible to cut through it? he wondered.

He'd been in a few Wraith cells in the past, but never with his weapons still in his possession. He knew if Sheppard had been there, he would come up with a clever plan, probably involving McKay doing something with the Wraith technology in the room. Ronon could admit Sheppard's plans usually worked, but sometimes the simple solution was best. He fingered the long knife at his belt as he studied the wall.

"There is still light in the room," Beckett said. "Not as much as before, true, but there's still light."

Ronon glanced at the dim light glowing from behind the thinner membrane of the wall. "So?"

"So," Beckett replied, "Where is the power coming from?"

"What does it matter?" Ronon asked absently as he ran his hand over the wall near the sealed door.

Beckett rubbed a hand across his forehead. "If there is still power getting to the room, maybe we can use it to short out the door or something. Force it to open."

Ronon glanced at Beckett. "Short out the door?" He shook his head and stepped back from the wall.

Beckett flung his arms away from his body and glared up at him. "I don't know! I'm a doctor, not an engineer." He ducked his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We have to do something," he said in a calmer tone. "What would Rodney do if he were here?"

"He'd probably be complaining," Ronon replied.

Beckett's lips curled into a crooked smile. "Most likely," he replied. "But after that, what would he do?"

Ronon shrugged. If forced, he would admit that McKay wasn't completely useless during missions, even if he did spend most of his time predicting their imminent deaths in some grisly fashion. He had surprised Ronon more than once in the last few months, searching for Sheppard and Teyla, alone, on Mendar, not to mention escaping on his own after their recent encounter with Ford.

"Do you think this building was always meant to be a trap?" Thompson asked as the silence in the room grew.

"Probably not," Ronon replied. He tapped on the wall with the butt of his knife and listened to see if he could detect any differences in the construction of the wall.

"How can you know that?" Beckett asked.

"The skeletons," Ronon replied. "The Wraith kept those people here as a food source. No reason to do that if the building was only supposed to be bait for the Ancestors."

Beckett nodded. "That makes sense, I suppose." He glanced from Ronon to Thompson. "How does that help us?"

Thompson smiled. "Because. That means when this room was built, the Wraith would have needed to control the door." He turned back to the wall next to the door. "The controls may have been hidden or removed, but the wiring must still be here somewhere."

He looked over at Ronon and added, "Maybe the Doc is right." He nodded at Beckett. "If we can find where the panel used to be, we might still be able to, I don't know, hotwire the door or something."

"You can do that?" Beckett asked.

Thompson gave Beckett a crooked smile and shrugged. "Chalk it up to misspent youth," he replied. "I may have hot-wired a car or two back in the day."

Beckett smiled at the admission. "I don't have any better ideas," he said with a glance at Ronon.

"Could work," Ronon said. He kept his idea of cutting a larger hole in the wall to himself for the moment. If the hot wiring idea didn't work, they'd have a plan B.

"The doors open in the middle," Thompson said as he ran his fingers over the barely perceptible seam. "The panel could have been on either wall." He pulled a combat knife from the back of his tac-vest and cut into the wall to the left of the door.

Ronon took the other side of the door and cut into the wall at roughly the height where he remembered the access panel outside the control room. The blade was razor-sharp, but the membrane was only semi-organic. There was some other component of the wall that made it difficult to cut. Ronon found he wasn't slicing through the material as much as tearing chunks away from the wall with the blade.

"Anything?" he asked Thompson a few seconds later.

"Nothing," Thompson replied with a grunt. "The wall is tougher than it looks. I haven't been able to make much of a dent."

Ronon glanced at the other wall and noticed Thompson was having about as much luck as he was. He had managed a gap several inches wide and another few inches deep, but so far, he hadn't found any wire or anything else that might control the door. He chose another section of the wall a little higher and had started sawing through the membrane when he heard a soft thump behind him.

He turned and found Beckett slumped on the floor against the base of the console.

"Doc?" Ronon asked as he knelt at Beckett's side.

"Just a wee bit dizzy," Beckett replied. He squeezed his eyes shut and winced as he rubbed his temples. "And a headache," he added.

Ronon frowned as Beckett leant back with his head resting against the console. His eyes were still closed, and Ronon noted the pain lines around his eyes and across his forehead.

"Seems to be more than that," Ronon said. He pushed Beckett forward far enough that he could unclip the medical pack from his back.

"Hmm," Beckett replied.

Ronon unzipped the pack and dug through the various packets and medical instruments until he found the familiar bottle of pain medication.

"Here," he said as he shook out a couple of the pills and nudged Beckett's arm.

Beckett opened his eyes and glanced down at the pain medication. "Thanks," he whispered as he took the pills and swallowed them with some water from his canteen.

"Any more of those?" Thompson asked from near the door. "My head is killing me all of a sudden."

Beckett frowned, pushed himself to his feet, and nearly fell. He reached out a hand for the control console beside him, but Ronon blocked the questing hand.

"Easy, Doc," Ronon said and grabbed his arm to keep him from falling.

Beckett nodded his thanks as he shuffled over to Thompson. "Anything other than the headache?" he asked as he checked Thompson's pulse and eyes.

"Stomach hurts, too," Thompson replied.

"Sharp pain or dull?"

Thompson shook his head. "More queasy than anything. Feels like the flu."

"Headache, vertigo," Beckett muttered to himself, "now nausea." He pursed his lips and turned to Ronon. "What about you? How are you feeling?"

"I'm fi -" Ronon started to reply but stopped when Beckett crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. "Head aches, I guess," Ronon admitted.

Beckett handed a couple of pain pills to Ronon, and after a slight hesitation, handed two more to Thompson. "We'll have to hope you can keep them down," he said as Thompson swallowed the pills with some water from his canteen.

"What's wrong with us?" Thompson asked. "Seems a bit suspicious we all get sick at the same time."

"You're right," Beckett replied with a grim look around the room. "This isn't an illness."

"Poison?" Ronon asked.

Beckett nodded. "Most likely some sort of gas."

"I don't smell anything," Thompson said.

"Not all toxins have an odor," Beckett told him.

He spotted one of the weird pods growing out of the wall in the far corner of the room and pointed to it. "If I had to guess, the gas is probably coming from that. I saw several of those same things in the hallways as we were exploring the building. If the goal was to kill as many Ancients as possible, it would make sense the gas would be in more than just this room."

"So why aren't we dead yet?" Ronon asked.

Beckett turned back to the door. "You did say this trap was old. Maybe we've been lucky so far that the gas isn't in a high enough concentration to kill, just make us feel sick."

Thompson took a step toward the pod in the corner. "You said there were more of these pods in the hallways?" he asked with a glance at Beckett. "So even if we get out of the room, those pods could be spewing more of this gas throughout the rest of the building?"

"Yes," Beckett said with a sigh. "Which means even if the concentration isn't very high now, it will continue to build up."

"How long?" Ronon asked.

"Until we succumb?" Beckett replied. "I don't know what sort of gas it is. There's no way to know for sure. We could have hours. It could be minutes."

"Then we need to get out of here," Ronon replied and went back to the wall. "We need to warn Teyla and the others."

It took another ten minutes of slicing and tearing through the leathery membrane before Ronon found another of the ropey tendrils of material with several wires snaking in and out of it. "Got something," he announced as he pulled the rope of wires out of the wall.

"Let me see," Thompson said and shuffled over to Ronon, keeping one hand on the wall for balance. He took the bundle of wires from Ronon, studied them for a moment, then nodded. "I think this is what we're looking for," he added and started pulling the wires away from the ropey tendril.

"Good," Ronon said. He noticed Thompson squeeze his eyes shut and asked in a low voice, "You going to be able to do this?"

Thompson swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Headache is getting worse, is all." He nodded at the wall. "Give me a minute to figure out this wiring."

Ronon nodded, turned to check on Beckett, and frowned when he saw Beckett sitting against the console with his eyes closed. Even from several paces away, Ronon could hear him wheezing.

He knelt at Beckett's side and shook his arm. "Hey, Doc, you need to stay awake," he said in a low voice. When Beckett didn't respond, he shook him harder. "Doc!" he called louder, and this time Beckett opened his eyes.

"Ron'n?" Beckett slurred.

"Yeah," Ronon replied.

Ronon didn't like the glassy look in Beckett's eyes or the confused expression on his face as he stared at Ronon and rubbed his temples. Ronon felt the effects of the gas more and more as well and knew they needed to get out of the room sooner rather than later.

"Come on," Ronon said and hauled Beckett to his feet. "You need to keep moving. It'll help you stay awake."

He looped the medical pack over one shoulder and wrapped his other arm around Beckett's waist.

"Well?" he asked Thompson.

Thompson shook his head. "Doctor McKay always makes this look easy." He touched two wires together, but nothing happened. "I'll get it. I just need a few minutes."

Beckett sagged against him, and Ronon adjusted his hold. "Work faster," he ordered. "We're running out of time."

~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~

Radek checked the laptop computer and nodded to himself. He and Chaudhri were reasonably sure the data they had found somehow pertained to the Wraith ships. Whether that was the large hive ships or the smaller darts remained to be seen. More information on the propulsion or weapons systems for the ships would be nice. Privately, Radek hoped to find out more about the culling beam.

He had been working on an idea to block the beams for months, ever since Lieutenant Cadman's mind had become trapped in Rodney's body. He knew if he could devise a simple way to shield individuals or even something larger like villages and towns from the beam, it could save countless people in the galaxy from the Wraith. Information flashed across the screen far too quickly for him to read, but Radek caught a few glimpses of design schematics and nodded to himself. Doctor Beckett wasn't the only one with high hopes for what they might discover in this Wraith complex.

Radek balanced the computer on the edge of the desk, stood, and had stepped toward the open doorway when the light in the room suddenly dimmed, and he heard the distinct sound of a door slamming closed. "Co teď udělali blázni?" he muttered under his breath. He walked out into the main room ready to give the science team a piece of his mind.

Chaudhri stood in front of the control console with Teyla beside him. Tsao and DeCampo were in the third and last work room, prepping that work station for the arrival of the additional hard drives once they checked in with Atlantis. The door out of the room was closed, and Radek stopped short, watching as Sergeant Garcia and the team of Marines tried to force it open.

"What happened?" he asked Chaudhri with another worried glance at the door. "Why is the door sealed?"

"I-I don't know," Chaudhri replied. "I was searching for the database index as you requested, and …" He waved a hand at the dimly lit room.

"And you didn't activate any systems? You are sure?" Radek asked as he motioned Chaudhri back and stood in front of the console.

"No, no, it could not have been anything I did, I am sure. I had only started my search when everything shut down."

Radek pressed a few of the buttons on the console and watched as the text on the screen flashed for a few seconds, then disappeared.

Radek turned to Chaudhri. "Were you able to translate any of the text?"

Chaudhri shook his head. "There was something about a failsafe, but the text disappeared too quickly to understand the context."

Worst-case scenarios flew through Radek's mind as he stared at Chaudhri for a moment, then turned to Tsao standing next to the middle work room. "Get the computers disconnected!" he ordered.

He didn't wait to see what Tsao did. Instead, Radek ran into the first room and pulled the adapter out of the port on the side of the laptop.

"Doctor Zelenka?" Teyla asked.

Radek turned and saw her standing in the doorway. "If I'm right, Doctor Chaudhri tripped some sort of security measure designed to delete database information if there was a breach. We needed to get our computers disconnected before the information we had downloaded was erased or corrupted." He saw Tsao stop behind Teyla and asked, "Were you in time?"

Tsao nodded. "Yes, yes, I think so. I checked the system files, and the hard drive is about a quarter full. We have something. I'm just not sure what."

Radek checked his computer and blew out a breath. "It looks like we have at least some of the medical data as well." He disconnected the rest of the computer wires from the Wraith work station and walked back into the main room. "Pack up the computers and the cables. We can check the data once we are back in Atlantis."

"Ma'am," Sergeant Garcia said and stopped in front of Teyla. "So far, we haven't found any way to get the doors open," he reported. "We can't pry them open, and there doesn't seem to be an access panel."

"That does not make sense," Teyla said and walked over to the door. She ran her fingers over the surface of the door, then turned to the walls. "This room is not a prison cell. The Wraith would need a way to open the door."

Radek stared at the sealed door, then turned back to the console as a terrible thought crossed his mind. "It's a trap," he muttered as he looked around the rest of the room.

"What was that?" Garcia asked.

Radek turned to Teyla. "Think about it. The database is wiped, or it will be. The door is sealed, and the power shut off. This is all a trap."

Teyla stared at the door and then the rest of the room. "It makes sense," she agreed. "Was it a trap meant for us or the Ancestors?"

"There's no way to be sure," Radek replied.

"Doesn't matter, anyway," Garcia added. "We're the ones stuck in here."

"Good point," Radek replied and pushed up his glasses. "I will see what I can do to get the door open."

Radek pulled a roll of tools out of his pack, walked over to the door, and studied the wall where an access panel normally would be. He ran a hand over the wall and shook his head when he didn't find any evidence a panel had ever been there. He was about to suggest Sergeant Garcia cut a hole in the membranous material of the wall when he heard a low moan behind him.

"Gemma?" Radek said and hurried over to DeCampo, who sat slumped against the wall near the console. "Are you all right?"

He glanced over at Teyla as she knelt on DeCampo's other side.

"I-I'm not sure what happened," DeCampo replied, rubbing her head. "I just got dizzy all of a sudden."

Tsao pushed one of the low stools from the work stations over to DeCampo's side.

"Are you still feeling dizzy?" Radek asked as he took her arm and helped her onto the stool.

DeCampo nodded. "Head aches, too." She squeezed her eyes shut and rested her head in her hands.

Radek glanced at Tsao then down at DeCampo.

"I will stay with her," Tsao offered, and Radek nodded.

"Rest," Radek said to DeCampo and patted her shoulder. "We will be out of this room soon."

"Sarge!" Daley called, and Radek turned and saw her easing Corporal Masters to the floor.

Garcia hurried over to Daley and knelt in front of Masters. "Zac? What's going on?"

"My head is pounding," Masters replied in a whisper. "Think I'm gonna be sick," he added. A few moments later, Masters turned and vomited.

Garcia and Daley moved Masters away from the puddle, and Daley gave him her canteen to rinse his mouth.

Teyla glanced at Radek, then motioned for him and Garcia to follow her as she walked to the other side of the room. "Doctor Zelenka, do you believe this is this part of the same trap?" she asked.

Radek pursed his lips and nodded. "It would make sense that there would be more to it than merely sealing us inside a room."

"Poison?" Teyla asked, and Radek nodded.

"Most likely a gas of some sort," he replied. "Which means we will all start to feel the effects soon."

"Then we need to get out of this room," Garcia growled and checked his P-90. "If we can't get out the normal way, maybe we can make our own door." He held up the weapon. "If we all fire at the same spot, it might be enough to breach the wall, and we can crawl through the hole."

Radek frowned. "There is no guarantee that will work. While the outer layers of the wall appear to be organic, we know from studying the Wraith darts that there is an inorganic component as well." He glanced from DeCampo and Masters to the door. "There may be another way." He walked over to the console and studied the controls again.

Garcia went back to his team, and Radek looked over at Teyla and motioned for her to join him.

"What is your idea?" Teyla asked, rubbing her temples as she stopped at his side. "I thought the console no longer functioned."

"While the console may not work for me or for someone with the ATA gene like Doctor Chaudhri, it may work for you." He gave Teyla a significant look and hoped she would connect the dots.

Radek saw her eyes widen and knew she had figured out his idea. "You possess Wraith DNA," he said in a low voice. "The console may still work for you where it would not work for us. It is a possibility the Wraith may not have considered when building their trap."

Teyla glanced from Radek to the console and nodded. "You may be correct."

"I hope so," Radek muttered under his breath. Teyla raised a puzzled eyebrow, and Radek added, "It is the best idea I have," he told her with a smile. "If this does not work, we may need to consider Sergeant Garcia's plan."

"I will do what I can," Teyla said as she stepped in front of the console. "However, I do not understand Wraith text."

"Manish will help with that," Radek replied and waved Chaudhri over to them.

"Doctor Zelenka?" Chaudhri asked.

"We have an idea," Radek said with a nod at Teyla. "If my hypothesis is correct, the console will accept Teyla's commands. If it does, she will be able to navigate the Wraith systems and find a way to open the door. She will need your help to find the correct program."

Chaudhri nodded and glanced at Teyla. "Ready when you are."

Teyla nodded and grasped the knob-like device in her right hand as she closed her eyes and pressed one of the buttons on the console.

Radek left them to work, checked on DeCampo, and wandered around the rest of the room. He stopped in the corner where a large pod hung from the ceiling and stared up at the odd decoration. He had seen the same pods in a few of the hallways after their arrival and had privately questioned if they had a purpose.

Mere decoration? he wondered. Some sort of sensor package to monitor the building's systems?

Radek felt the room tilt around him, and he stumbled as he tried to brace himself against the wall.

"Doc?" a voice called, and Radek looked up to see Garcia holding him up. "Hey, you okay?"

Radek stared at him, trying to figure out what had just happened. He felt himself falling and clutched Garcia's arm.

"Whoa, hey," Garcia said and pulled him up. "I gotcha."

Radek blinked several times and glanced around the room. When his gaze fell on the pod, he jerked in fear and tried to pull himself out of Garcia's hold.

"Jed vychází z lusku," he said, trying to pull out of Garcia's hold and push them both away from the pod at the same time.

"I didn't quite get that, Doc," Garcia said.

The room swirled around him, and Radek felt Garcia take more of his weight as he sagged.

Radek forced himself to concentrate. "Pod," he tried again, this time in English. "Poison coming from pod."

Garcia stared up at the pod for a moment, then tightened his hold on Radek's waist and manoeuvred them both back across the room to the door.

Radek slumped against the wall next to the door and pressed his hands against his head. He felt a tap on his arm and opened his eyes to see Garcia kneeling in front of him. "Better?" Garcia asked, holding out his hand.

Radek took the pills Garcia offered with a nod. "Thank you, Sergeant," he whispered.

"Don't mention it," Garcia replied. "You stay here. I'll check and see if Teyla is any closer to getting the door open."

Radek nodded and closed his eyes again. Now they knew that the poison was a gas, Radek thought to himself. What sort of gas? he wondered. And if the pods were how the gas was dispersed, how much time would they have to get out of the complex before it was too late?

He felt himself starting to drift and wasn't sure how much later it was when he heard Chaudhri say, "I think that's what we want … Yes, that looks right."

Radek opened his eyes and watched as Teyla nodded and twisted the knob-like device.

"There," Chaudhri said and pointed at the screen. "That should be the control for the doors."

Teyla turned the knob again, then pressed one of the buttons on the console.

A moment later, Radek heard a soft grinding noise and felt a whoosh of air next to him as the door opened.

"We must get everyone out of this room," Teyla said as she stepped back from the console.

Radek pushed against the floor and slowly stood, keeping one hand on the wall for balance, as Tsao helped DeCampo out of the room. Daley and Masters followed them.

"Come on, Doc, time to go," Garcia said and took Radek's arm.

"No," Radek replied and pulled out of the light hold. He overbalanced and braced his hand on the wall for a moment before he shuffled over to the packs piled near the last work room. "We can't leave them," he said and bent down for one of the packs piled on the floor.

Garcia blew out a breath, then walked over, grabbed the other two packs in one hand, and retook Radek's arm with the other. "Ready?" he asked, and Radek nodded.

"We must get everyone back to the stargate," Teyla said once Radek and Garcia joined everyone else already in the hallway. "Sergeant, if you would assist Doctor Zelenka's team back to the city, I will go in search of Ronon and the others. They must be warned of the danger of staying inside the building."

"No, ma'am," Garcia said. "We have no idea if the Wraith planned an ambush along with their gas trap. You shouldn't be alone." He turned to Daley and Masters. "You two good?" he asked.

Daley nodded. "I don't have much more than a slight headache, Sarge."

"Masters?"

Corporal Masters stood up straight and nodded. "I'm okay, Sarge."

Garcia studied them for a moment longer, then handed Daley the two backpacks with the computers. "All right, you two get the scientists back to the 'gate. I'll go with Teyla and find the others. The route is marked. All you need to do is follow the arrows."

Garcia glanced at Teyla, who nodded and adjusted the strap for her P-90. "Doctor Zelenka, please let Doctor Weir know what has happened," she said. "We will find Doctor Beckett, Sergeant Thompson, and Ronon and return to the city as quickly as possible."

Radek nodded. "Be careful," he said to Teyla and glanced at Garcia. "There are more of those pods scattered throughout the facility. Without knowing what the poison is, there is no way to know how long until exposure becomes fatal."

"We will," Teyla replied with a smile.

Radek watched until they were out of sight, then turned and followed Tsao and DeCampo toward the exit.

~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~

Rodney yelped in surprise, turned and found the man from the trail standing behind him.

"How did -" he started to ask as the man stepped closer.

"Keep your hands where I can see them," the man ordered, one hand on the butt of a gun just visible under his brown coat.

Rodney felt the flutter of panic in his chest as he dropped the coin and raised his left hand.

So much for finding John and getting away, he thought to himself as the man closed the distance between them.

The man was a little taller than Rodney and muscular without being muscle-bound. His face was tanned, and Rodney could see blond hair peeking out from under the ball cap he wore. What surprised him more was the uniform trousers and the star sewn onto the breast pocket of the brown coat he wore.

Was he here to help? Rodney wondered even as he took a step back as the man came closer. Or was he in league with Vance?

The man frowned as Rodney backed away and took his hand off the butt of the gun. "I just -" the man started to say but stopped as Rodney tripped over a tree root and groaned when his back and shoulder banged against the tree behind him.

Now would be a good time, Sheppard, Rodney thought to himself as he cradled his right arm against his chest and tried to get his breathing under control.

The man stopped an arm's length away and studied Rodney. "Were you in that wreck up on the road? You look like you could use a doctor."

"Are you working for him?" Rodney asked through gritted teeth. He shuffled back another step, and glanced around the woods.

The man stopped moving and held up his hands. "The only people I work for are the ones living in this county," the man said. "My name is Deputy Sheriff Nathan Ritchie. Wanna tell me who you are and what happened to you?"

The name tickled something at the back of Rodney's mind as he stared at the man in front of him with a puzzled expression. "Ritchie. Ritchie. I know that name," he muttered to himself. "Where do I know that name?"

"I really think we need to get you to a doctor," Ritchie said, and Rodney thought he sounded sincere in his desire to help. "From the way you're standing, I can tell you've messed up your shoulder, and with that knot on your head, you might have a concussion."

Rodney reached up and winced when he felt the welt on his forehead.

"Yeah, it looks like you took a solid knock," Ritchie agreed and took another step toward Rodney.

Rodney stumbled back a step and froze when Ritchie stopped short, staring at something on the ground.

Rodney followed his gaze and saw the challenge coin lying where he had dropped it. "That's mine," he said as Ritchie knelt next to the coin.

He bent down to pick up the coin, but Ritchie got to it first. He picked up the coin and flipped it over in his hand, staring first at the coin then at Rodney.

Rodney ignored the strange expression on Ritchie's face and held out his hand. "As I was saying, that's mine," he said. "I'd like it back if you don't mind."

Ritchie took off his ball cap and scratched his head before replacing the cap. "Yours, 'eh?" he said, bouncing the coin in his hand.

He kept Rodney's coin in his right hand, slipped his left hand into the pocket of his uniform trousers, and pulled out an identical coin. "I know every man who ever received one of these." He held up the coins and looked over at Rodney. "And I'm pretty sure you weren't one of them."

Rodney's mouth popped open as the pieces fell into place. "Ritchie! Of course! That's where I know that name from," he said and pointed at Ritchie. "You're Lieutenant Ritchie, aren't you? You were stationed in Afghanistan in 2002?"

"That's right," Ritchie replied with a wary expression as he peered at Rodney. "Wanna tell me how you knew that?"

Rodney sank down with his back against the tree. "Unbelievable," he muttered more to himself than Ritchie.

"Hey!" Ritchie said. He bent down and tapped Rodney on the leg.

Rodney flinched away from the touch and stared at Ritchie.

"Who are you, and where did you get this coin?" Ritchie asked, holding up the coin.

Rodney rested his head against the tree and weighed how much he should say. From the few stories John had told him, he knew Ritchie was someone Sheppard trusted. He could help him find John and maybe even help them deal with Vance. Or he could be working with Vance, Rodney reminded himself.

Rodney glanced at Ritchie. "If you aren't working for him, why are you out here in a blizzard?"

Ritchie snorted and stood. "This is barely a flurry, much less a blizzard," he said as he leant against a tree and stared down at Rodney. "I was on patrol when I got a call about shots fired out here in the wildlife sanctuary. I came out to check the report and found a wrecked car up on the road but no one inside." He nodded at Rodney and added. "Can I assume you were in that car?"

Rodney cradled his arm against his chest and nodded.

"And you think someone caused the car accident?"

Rodney studied Ritchie for a moment longer, then sighed. "Vance," he said. "Or someone working for him."

Ritchie looked down at the coin in his left hand. "There was a Scott Vance in our unit," he said. "Good kid. Died -" Ritchie stopped speaking and squeezed the coin in his hand.

"When a mission went bad," Rodney finished for him. "Your team had bad intel, and the building you were in blew up."

"All right," Ritchie said, his tone taking on a harder edge. "Now it's time I get some answers. Who exactly are you, and how do you know all of this? That mission is still classified."

Rodney shivered and cradled his right arm against his chest. He looked up at Ritchie and blew out a breath. He needed to find John, and Ritchie was his best chance for doing that.

"Doctor Rodney McKay," Rodney said. "That's my name. And I know all of this because Alex Vance is determined to make Sheppard pay for what happened to his brother on that mission."

"Captain Sheppard? He's mixed up in this?" Ritchie asked, looking around at the nearby trees. "Was he in that car with you?"

"He's Lieutenant Colonel Sheppard now, and yes," Rodney replied. "And we need to find him. Vance or someone he hired is out here trying to kill us."

"So, where do you fit in?"

Rodney pursed his lips. They did not have time for him to explain the idea of chaguo ndugu, and he certainly wasn't going to say anything about Atlantis or the mental link he shared with John.

"It's complicated," he replied.

Ritchie eyed him for a moment longer, then held out the coin in his right hand. "I take it Sheppard is the one who gave you the coin?" he asked.

"Yes." Rodney took the coin and stuffed it in his trouser pocket.

Ritchie nodded. "Did he tell you what the coin meant?"

"He said it was something everyone in your unit carried. Sort of a way to identify if someone was a friend."

"That's right," Ritchie said. "It was also a promise that we would always be there to help each other." He held his hand out to Rodney. "Sounds like you and Sheppard could do with some of that help."

Rodney hesitated for a moment, then allowed Ritchie to haul him back to his feet. He hissed out a breath as his shoulder and foot protested the movement and braced his good hand against the tree.

"You going to be all right?" Ritchie asked. "Maybe we should get you to a doctor first. I can come back and look for Sheppard."

"I'm fi -" Rodney started to say, but a gunshot rang out, and Rodney felt a hard jolt in his stomach. "No, no, no," he muttered and stared in the direction he thought the shot had come from. "We need to go," he said to Ritchie. "Now."

He hadn't felt a spike, and Rodney took that as proof whoever had fired the shot had missed Sheppard, but that didn't mean the next time John would be as lucky. He pushed through the low bushes and stood on the muddy trail. He glanced left then right, decided the shot had come from his right and limped down the path as fast as he could, neither knowing nor caring if Ritchie followed him. He needed to find Sheppard before it was too late.

~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~

John cut a path through the trees and low bushes, making sure he left an obvious trail for the man following him. He heard someone crashing through the woods behind him a few minutes later and smiled to himself. His plan had worked. Their shooter was following him, which meant Rodney was safe for the moment. All he needed to do was lead whoever was tracking him far enough away that John could lose him, double-back, find McKay, then together they could get back to the road and find help.

The trees didn't show any sign of thinning, and John stopped running long enough to catch his breath and figure out his next step. It was still snowing, and the sun would set in a few hours. As reckless as Rodney thought he could be, John had no intention of playing cat and mouse games in unknown terrain in the dark. He needed to find a place to ditch his tail and get back to the clearing.

John heard a branch snap behind him and ducked behind a thick tree trunk.

"Getting too close," John muttered to himself. "Time to end this."

He peeked around the tree and watched as a man ran past his tree and stopped a dozen or so feet away. The man glanced around the woods, then turned in a slow circle, the rifle cradled comfortably in his arms as he searched for some sign as to where John had gone. John caught a glimpse of the man's face and growled low in his throat when he recognised his pursuer.

"So you did come back," John said to himself.

John was surprised how much Vance had changed in the months since his disappearance. Gone were the expensive suits Vance had worn in the recordings he'd made when Rodney had been kidnapped a few months ago. Instead, Vance wore the same jeans, boots, and thick plaid shirt John had seen the locals in the diner wearing when he and Rodney had stopped for lunch that afternoon. There was more grey in his hair, and though his face was tanned, there were also wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead. Months on the run had clearly aged him.

"I know you're out here, Sheppard," Vance yelled. "Running won't save you. I'm going to find you and Doctor McKay, and when I do, we'll finish that business we started in Colorado."

John spent several seconds debating what to do. This was his chance, he knew. He could deal with Vance here in the middle of nowhere, and he'd never be a threat to him or McKay again. The problem was, Vance was armed with a rifle, and from what John could tell, he appeared at ease with the weapon. Which meant unless he could get the gun away from Vance somehow, attacking him now was pointless. Vance could shoot him where he stood, and then he would be free to find Rodney and kill him too.

"There's nowhere out here for you to go," Vance called. "No one is going to help you escape this time."

"You'll get another chance," John told himself as he watched Vance pace back and forth. He waited until Vance's back was turned, then crept back through the woods, taking care not to make a sound. If Vance wanted to stand in the middle of a forest yelling at the trees, John would take the opportunity to make his way back to McKay and get them back to civilisation.

John kept one eye on his backtrail as he walked and soon lost sight of Vance. He took his time heading back to the clearing, frequently stopping to make sure he wasn't followed and taking steps to conceal his route. The trees thinned ahead of him, and John hurried his pace, thankful he had found the clearing. The sooner he and McKay were out of the woods, the sooner he could call Landry and then deal with Vance once and for all.

John pushed his way through the last of the trees and undergrowth and stopped short when he stumbled not into the clearing as he expected but onto a muddy path. He cringed as gravel crunched under his feet and stepped onto the grassy edge of the path.

"This is not good," John muttered to himself as he stared at the path. He hadn't come across any trails when he had been with Rodney earlier. And even though he had changed course several times while leading Vance away from McKay, John had kept to the same general direction in relation to the clearing.

Or so he'd thought.

"Great," he said as he walked along the edge of the path. "McKay is never going to let you live this down."

He glanced up and down the trail, looking for any sort of landmark that would tell him where he was compared to where he'd left Rodney, but didn't see anything he recognised. Clouds obscured the sun too much to tell his direction, and after a quick eenie, meenie, miny, moe, John chose to take the right-hand path.

He hadn't gone far when he heard a branch snap and ducked as a bullet whizzed past his ear. John dove for the cover of the trees and grimaced when Vance stepped out of the trees on the other side of the trail and aimed the rifle at John.

"Gotcha," Vance growled with a feral grin. "I told you there was no escaping me this time, Sheppard."

John crouched behind a thick bush and considered the chances of Vance thinking John had run.

Another bullet smacked into the tree inches from John's head. "I know you're there, Sheppard. Get out here where I can see you."

"So much for plan A," John muttered under his breath as he raised his hands and stood.

"There you are," Vance said. "Now come out here." He waved the rifle at the muddy path.

"I think I'm okay here," John replied.

Vance scowled and shot the tree to the left of John's hip. "The next one is in you, Sheppard. Get over here. Now."

John grimaced and stepped forward until he stood on the path.

Vance crossed the path and stared into the trees where John had been standing. "Where's the good Doctor McKay?" he asked. "I know he came on this little trip with you."

John turned so he faced Vance and shrugged. "Must have lost him somewhere."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Vance replied as he circled John. "No matter, I'll find him soon enough. He didn't strike me as the type who would do well in the great outdoors."

John had a flash memory of Rodney dragging him back to the 'gate on a slab of bark and shook his head. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said. "McKay has a tendency to surprise people."

He watched Vance circle him and considered his options. He couldn't run. Vance would just shoot him in the back. The problem was if he didn't do something soon, Vance was going to shoot him anyway, and then he'd go after Rodney.

The idea of attacking Vance and taking the rifle away from him rose in his mind again, and this time John gave it more serious thought. He was on open ground, and Vance wasn't more than a few feet away from him. It would still be reckless, but with the right sort of distraction, John thought he might have a chance.

He studied Vance as he prowled around the edges of the path. Vance still held the rifle with casual ease, but John saw Vance's control slipping the more he talked. John remembered Elizabeth telling him how Rodney had distracted Kolya when the Genii attempted their coup of the city, and decided to take a page from McKay's playbook.

"Out of curiosity, how did you know we'd be here?" John asked and waved his hand at the trees. "New York isn't exactly close to Colorado."

Vance stopped moving and stood in front of John. "I'm still a wealthy man, Sheppard, despite your best efforts." He lowered the rifle and added, "Money can still open any number of doors."

John nodded and took a step to Vance's left, checking the ground in front of him for anything that could cause him to trip. "So you found out about the conference and just assumed McKay would be there?"

"Something like that," Vance said with a smirk. He pointed the rifle at the ground and held it in a negligent two-handed grip.

John took another step and casually positioned his raised hands into a more defensive stance. "I know it wasn't Bowers this time," he said and set his feet. "From what I hear, the IOA still has him in some secret facility." John cocked his head to one side. "You know, he didn't even realise you had left him to take the fall for kidnapping and murder until we had him back at the SGC." John smiled. "Once he figured it out, he was more than happy to tell us everything he knew about you."

Vance snorted. "He didn't know anything. I made sure of that. Bowers was a fool. A means to an end, nothing more. Once he started telling me about how much he felt you were to blame for ending his military career, I knew all I had to do was convince him how much you would suffer if he were to help me, and he'd do whatever I told him to do."

For a moment, John almost felt sorry for Bowers. He'd been used by Vance and hadn't even known it. Then he remembered the bomb that had nearly blown him, Ronon, and Rodney to kingdom come, and the feeling faded.

"So, what was your plan this time?" John asked. "Hoping we would die in a car accident doesn't seem to be your style."

Vance glared at John and let go of the rifle with one hand. "The car -"

As soon as John saw Vance's hand move, he lunged, grabbed the rifle, and twisted it out of Vance's slackened grip.

"No!" Vance screamed. He charged at John, ignoring the rifle in John's hand as he tackled him and pushed John off the trail.

John's back hit the trunk of a tree, and he dropped the rifle as he slipped on the wet grass. He ducked the next blow from Vance and concentrated on staying on his feet. He blocked the punch Vance aimed at his head and landed a blow to Vance's ribs that forced Vance back far enough that John could push off the tree and gain better footing on the path.

Vance growled and charged him again. He swung one fist at John's head and the other at his stomach. John blocked the wild punches as best he could and landed a few hits to Vance's jaw. Vance, however, was a man possessed, and John found himself falling back, step-by-step until Vance landed a blow to his bruised ribs, making John double over with a groan.

Vance bared his teeth and pressed a new attack.

John ignored the throbbing pain in his side and stumbled backward down the path as Vance came at him. He ducked under Vance's swing at his head, landed a punch of his own to Vance's stomach then sidestepped and grabbed Vance from behind. John wrapped his arms around Vance's neck and started to squeeze.

Vance tried to break the hold, and when that didn't work, he elbowed John in the stomach, but John only squeezed harder. He felt Vance start to sag and thought he finally had the upper hand when a shot rang out behind them.

"Hold it right there!" a voice ordered.

Vance elbowed John in the gut again, and the blow combined with the distraction of the new threat was enough to break John's hold.

"This isn't over," Vance growled, and ran into the trees.

John started to chase after him when a second voice stopped him.

"Sheppard! Wait!" Rodney called.

John spun around and watched as McKay limped toward him.

Another man ran up the trail, his handgun raised in John's general direction and his face obscured by a ball cap. The man ducked into the trees where Vance had disappeared, and John heard snapping branches and racing footfalls as the stranger chased after Vance.

John glanced from the trees to Rodney. "I thought I told you to wait for me," John said as Rodney stopped next to him. "How did you even find me?"

Rodney scowled at him as he hugged his right arm to his chest. "I followed the sound of gunfire," he replied. "I told you this was a stupid plan."

John rubbed his aching side and couldn't really disagree. "Who's your friend?" he asked with a nod at the trees.

"He's more your friend than mine," Rodney replied, and John frowned at the cryptic response. Before he could ask what Rodney meant, the stranger walked out of the trees carrying the rifle.

"He got away," the man reported as he pulled back the slide on the rifle and removed the bullets.

John stared in shock as the man stopped in front of him. "Ritchie?" he said, not bothering to hide his surprise.

"Hey, Cap," Ritchie replied with a grin. He pocketed the rifle rounds and held out his hand.

"What the hell are you doing here?" John asked as he gripped Ritchie's hand and shook it. "I thought you would be a lifer."

"Me too," Ritchie replied. The smile faded, and he added, "Pops got sick a couple years ago. I took leave and came home to help out on the family farm. After he passed, there was no one else to keep it going, so I transferred my commission to the Reserves and moved back home."

"And became the sheriff," John said with a nod at the badge on Ritchie's jacket.

Ritchie shrugged. "Turns out, I'm not much of a farmer. I keep trying, but I needed something to pay the bills. Joining the sheriff's department seemed like a good fit after everything we did …" Ritchie jerked his head, and John nodded.

"That still doesn't explain -" John started to say but was interrupted.

"As nice as this little reunion is, can we have it somewhere else?" Rodney asked with a scowl. "Preferably somewhere that's warm and where it's not snowing?"

Ritchie smiled. "My place isn't far from here." He glanced from John to Rodney. "I have a well-stocked first-aid kit as well."

John nodded. "Sounds good." He looked around. "Any idea how to get back to the road?"

"This way," Ritchie replied and pointed down the right-hand path. "The trail leads right out to the road."

"I don't suppose the car is still where we left it?" John asked as they walked. "I could use some clean clothes."

"And my computer," Rodney added.

"I called for a tow truck when I found the wreckage," Ritchie said. "With that big accident over on the interstate, I doubt Pete has had a chance to get here yet. We can pick up your bags and head back to my place."

"And then what do we do?" Rodney asked with a wary glance at the woods.

"We find Vance," Ritchie replied.

John glanced from Rodney to Ritchie walking in front of them.

"You sure you want to get involved?" John asked. "You don't even know what's going on."

Ritchie stopped walking and turned around. He glanced at Rodney, then pulled something out of his pocket and held up a challenge coin for John to see. "I know enough," he replied. "If Alex Vance wants a fight, that's what we'll give him."