seaQuest non é il mio.
Beautiful midsummer evenings for all you lovely reviewers: Mar, hepatica, ano, Teresa, lizU, sara, pari106 and TeacherTam. Er, except if any of you live in the southern hemisphere, in which case, beautiful midwinter afternoons. And if you live near the equator... oh, forget it.
As for everyone who thinks that my cliffhangers are evil, I've just gone through and removed all the remaining ones from the story. NOT!! Bwahahahahahahaaaaa!
Ghosts
Chapter 13
Lucas felt that his captor had shifted so that he was only holding him with one arm. He concentrated on acting unconscious, allowing his body to hang bonelessly so that his feet dragged on the ground. One. Two. Three.
"Now!" he yelled and, planting his feet firmly on the floor, he wrenched himself away from the man's grasp and grabbed the strap of the pulse rifle the man was carrying carelessly over one arm. With a quick twist, it was free, and Lucas stepped back and fired even as his adversary was still turning towards him in surprise. The man dropped to the floor like a stone. Thank God for technology, Lucas thought, then turned quickly to see how Braithwaite was doing.
He needn't have worried. Braithwaite's guard was already stretched out on the floor, and the older man had his gun trained on Rebecca. She stood in the centre of the room, her back to Lucas. Braithwaite cocked an eyebrow at him coolly.
"I got to hand it to you, Wolenczak, you're one hell of an actor."
Lucas accepted the compliment with a nod. He was just relieved the plan had worked.
"I guess I can't kill her in good conscience, huh?" Braithwaite said, gesturing at Rebecca with his rifle.
Lucas shook his head. "I guess not."
"Well, you'd better do the honours, then. It's your specialty, after all."
Rebecca turned to look at him then, and the kind pity on her face had been replaced by snarling anger. And fear.
"You'll never get out of here alive," she sneered.
Lucas shook his head. "I hope you have a mother of a headache when you wake up," he said, without malice. Then he flipped up the rifle with practised ease, spun the woman round and brought it down on the back of her head.
Braithwaite stared down at Rebecca's body lying on the floor, and stirred it with his toe. "I don't know how you do that move, Wolenczak," he said contemplatively. "You make it look so easy."
Wolenczak shrugged. "It's a skill," he said, modestly.
Braithwaite looked up. "Make sure those two are dead," he said, then turned his attention back to the inert body at his feet. He looked over at the white cubicle, and a slow smile spread across his face. "I've got just the place for you, bitch," he said with relish.
"Anything?"
"Sorry, sir," O'Neill said apologetically.
Bridger turned to look at Ortiz. The sensor chief shook his head.
"How long?" Bridger asked.
"Two hours," Ortiz replied.
"Captain," Ford said in a low tone, "we can't stay here for ever. We're right by the border. Eventually they're going to notice us."
Bridger shook his head. "I'm not leaving him out there on his own," he said stubbornly. "He's only two hours late. We've got to give him some margin for error."
"We worked margin for error into the original timetable," Ford pointed out. "How do we know he's not just-" a beeping noise cut him off. They turned. Ortiz was staring at a flashing light on his console.
"I think someone just noticed us," he said.
"We've got to make sure it doesn't happen again," said Lucas, inspecting the wall of the lab. "If the intruder alarm goes off, we're screwed."
"So how're we going to stop it?" Braithwaite asked. Lucas didn't answer. He'd spotted some markings on the wall.
"Lab 4," he muttered to himself. "Where I was before was lab 2. That must mean..." he looked up at the ceiling, calculating quickly, then walked carefully along the wall. "Here," he said, pointing at a hatch-way.
Braithwaite stared at him, mystified. "What're you talking about?" he asked.
Lucas looked back at him. "We've got to find my palm top," he said.
"I thought you said it wasn't far," grumbled Braithwaite. He was taller than Lucas, with broader shoulders, and crawling through the ventilation shafts was not an easy job for him.
"Yeah, well, in real terms it's not far, but these vents double back on each other every five minutes," Lucas admitted. With his injured shoulder, the crawling wasn't particularly easy for him either. He could feel the wound breaking open again. "All the same, we should be just round the corner... Ah!" He scrambled out of the vent into a larger tunnel. "This should make life easier."
The two men walked down the tunnel, half bent over, until Lucas suddenly stopped. Braithwaite crashed into him. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Should be somewhere round here," Lucas said, walking forward more slowly now, then stopping again. He knelt down suddenly and put his ear against a large panel in the wall.
"What-" Braithwaite started, but Lucas held up a hand for silence. After a moment listening, he sat up.
"No, he's gone," he said, sounding satisfied. "Someone must've found him."
"Found who?" asked Braithwaite.
"Just a loose end," Lucas said. Then he stood up, and tapped a smaller panel, set higher up in the wall. "We've got to get this off."
Braithwaite stared at it for a moment. "Looks tough," he said, and raised his rifle.
"No!" Lucas yelled, pushing the rifle barrel away. Braithwaite straightened up, and looked at him, eyebrows raised. Lucas straightened too. "I'm sorry, sir, but my palm top is behind there. We'll just have to get it open some other way."
Fifteen minutes and a lot of brute force later, they had finally got the panel open far enough for Lucas to slip his hand inside and take out the palm top and the data disk.
"What's that?" Braithwaite asked, looking suspiciously at the disk.
"What do you think it is?" Lucas replied. "You came here to get the same thing, didn't you?"
Braithwaite didn't answer. Lucas slipped the disk in his pocket and opened the palm top. "OK," he said, checking the map. "I reckon we need about an hour to get out of here... then I'll give them half an hour..."
"Give who?" Braithwaite asked. Lucas didn't answer. "Listen, Wolenczak, are you going to let me in on your scheme or what?"
For an answer, Lucas turned his palm top screen towards the other man. Large red letters spelt out WEAPONS ARMED. Below that was a line reading TIME TO DETONATION: 90:00:00. Lucas pressed a button. The numbers started going down.
Braithwaite whistled. "You're going to blow this place up?"
"Do you really want them to keep it?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.
Braithwaite nodded. "Good point. What now?"
Lucas quickly checked the map again, then pointed left. "This way."
"It feels like we've been walking for hours," Braithwaite muttered.
"We're nearly there," Lucas assured him in a low voice. He didn't want to admit that it was taking them longer than he had planned. His shoulder was beginning to hurt quite a lot now. "We've just got to get across this corridor, then – shit!" he said, looking at his palm top screen in dismay.
"What is it?" Braithwaite whispered.
"There are people out there," Lucas said, peering through the grating. "Guards."
"How many?"
Lucas checked the screen again. "Two. They'll be turning the corner in a moment."
The two men stared at each other for a moment in the half-light that came through the grating. "Can you delay the detonation?" Braithwaite asked.
Lucas shook his head. "Even if I could, we can't risk spending any longer than necessary here." He looked down at the screen again. "OK, they're gone. I don't know if they'll be back, though."
"We'll have to risk it," Braithwaite said. "One at a time."
Lucas nodded. "I'll go first." He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, and counted to three, then opened the hatch way. Climbing out, he closed it quickly and crossed to the other side of the corridor. The hatch way there was higher up: he had to jump to reach the handle and then scramble up into the duct. It made quite a bit of noise, and he gritted his teeth as he was forced to put weight on his bad shoulder. Finally, though, he was up in the duct and pulled the hatch closed after him.
He popped open the palm top again and checked the screen. Then he stopped in horror and checked again. The guards were coming back. And there was no way he could warn Braithwaite.
He checked the clock quickly. Thirty-five minutes left. Almost time for the next stage. He could hear the boots of the guards coming closer, and prayed that Braithwaite heard it too. But then he saw the opposite hatch begin to open and swore under his breath.
The guards saw Braithwaite before he saw them. "Hey!" shouted one of them, "drop your weapon!"
Braithwaite was an experienced soldier, and he knew when to take a threat seriously. He dropped the pulse rifle. Both guards had their weapons pointed at him. "Kick it over here," said the one who had spoken before. Braithwaite obeyed. The guard picked up the rifle and looked at it. Then he gestured to Braithwaite.
"Lie down with your hands on your head."
It was that moment that Lucas chose to act. He typed a command into the palm top, and suddenly the noise of a siren filled the air. The two guards looked up, confused, and Lucas burst out of the hatchway, firing as he came. Both were down in seconds.
"Come on," Lucas yelled to Braithwaite. "Run!"
And they ran.
Beautiful midsummer evenings for all you lovely reviewers: Mar, hepatica, ano, Teresa, lizU, sara, pari106 and TeacherTam. Er, except if any of you live in the southern hemisphere, in which case, beautiful midwinter afternoons. And if you live near the equator... oh, forget it.
As for everyone who thinks that my cliffhangers are evil, I've just gone through and removed all the remaining ones from the story. NOT!! Bwahahahahahahaaaaa!
Ghosts
Chapter 13
Lucas felt that his captor had shifted so that he was only holding him with one arm. He concentrated on acting unconscious, allowing his body to hang bonelessly so that his feet dragged on the ground. One. Two. Three.
"Now!" he yelled and, planting his feet firmly on the floor, he wrenched himself away from the man's grasp and grabbed the strap of the pulse rifle the man was carrying carelessly over one arm. With a quick twist, it was free, and Lucas stepped back and fired even as his adversary was still turning towards him in surprise. The man dropped to the floor like a stone. Thank God for technology, Lucas thought, then turned quickly to see how Braithwaite was doing.
He needn't have worried. Braithwaite's guard was already stretched out on the floor, and the older man had his gun trained on Rebecca. She stood in the centre of the room, her back to Lucas. Braithwaite cocked an eyebrow at him coolly.
"I got to hand it to you, Wolenczak, you're one hell of an actor."
Lucas accepted the compliment with a nod. He was just relieved the plan had worked.
"I guess I can't kill her in good conscience, huh?" Braithwaite said, gesturing at Rebecca with his rifle.
Lucas shook his head. "I guess not."
"Well, you'd better do the honours, then. It's your specialty, after all."
Rebecca turned to look at him then, and the kind pity on her face had been replaced by snarling anger. And fear.
"You'll never get out of here alive," she sneered.
Lucas shook his head. "I hope you have a mother of a headache when you wake up," he said, without malice. Then he flipped up the rifle with practised ease, spun the woman round and brought it down on the back of her head.
Braithwaite stared down at Rebecca's body lying on the floor, and stirred it with his toe. "I don't know how you do that move, Wolenczak," he said contemplatively. "You make it look so easy."
Wolenczak shrugged. "It's a skill," he said, modestly.
Braithwaite looked up. "Make sure those two are dead," he said, then turned his attention back to the inert body at his feet. He looked over at the white cubicle, and a slow smile spread across his face. "I've got just the place for you, bitch," he said with relish.
"Anything?"
"Sorry, sir," O'Neill said apologetically.
Bridger turned to look at Ortiz. The sensor chief shook his head.
"How long?" Bridger asked.
"Two hours," Ortiz replied.
"Captain," Ford said in a low tone, "we can't stay here for ever. We're right by the border. Eventually they're going to notice us."
Bridger shook his head. "I'm not leaving him out there on his own," he said stubbornly. "He's only two hours late. We've got to give him some margin for error."
"We worked margin for error into the original timetable," Ford pointed out. "How do we know he's not just-" a beeping noise cut him off. They turned. Ortiz was staring at a flashing light on his console.
"I think someone just noticed us," he said.
"We've got to make sure it doesn't happen again," said Lucas, inspecting the wall of the lab. "If the intruder alarm goes off, we're screwed."
"So how're we going to stop it?" Braithwaite asked. Lucas didn't answer. He'd spotted some markings on the wall.
"Lab 4," he muttered to himself. "Where I was before was lab 2. That must mean..." he looked up at the ceiling, calculating quickly, then walked carefully along the wall. "Here," he said, pointing at a hatch-way.
Braithwaite stared at him, mystified. "What're you talking about?" he asked.
Lucas looked back at him. "We've got to find my palm top," he said.
"I thought you said it wasn't far," grumbled Braithwaite. He was taller than Lucas, with broader shoulders, and crawling through the ventilation shafts was not an easy job for him.
"Yeah, well, in real terms it's not far, but these vents double back on each other every five minutes," Lucas admitted. With his injured shoulder, the crawling wasn't particularly easy for him either. He could feel the wound breaking open again. "All the same, we should be just round the corner... Ah!" He scrambled out of the vent into a larger tunnel. "This should make life easier."
The two men walked down the tunnel, half bent over, until Lucas suddenly stopped. Braithwaite crashed into him. "Sorry," he muttered.
"Should be somewhere round here," Lucas said, walking forward more slowly now, then stopping again. He knelt down suddenly and put his ear against a large panel in the wall.
"What-" Braithwaite started, but Lucas held up a hand for silence. After a moment listening, he sat up.
"No, he's gone," he said, sounding satisfied. "Someone must've found him."
"Found who?" asked Braithwaite.
"Just a loose end," Lucas said. Then he stood up, and tapped a smaller panel, set higher up in the wall. "We've got to get this off."
Braithwaite stared at it for a moment. "Looks tough," he said, and raised his rifle.
"No!" Lucas yelled, pushing the rifle barrel away. Braithwaite straightened up, and looked at him, eyebrows raised. Lucas straightened too. "I'm sorry, sir, but my palm top is behind there. We'll just have to get it open some other way."
Fifteen minutes and a lot of brute force later, they had finally got the panel open far enough for Lucas to slip his hand inside and take out the palm top and the data disk.
"What's that?" Braithwaite asked, looking suspiciously at the disk.
"What do you think it is?" Lucas replied. "You came here to get the same thing, didn't you?"
Braithwaite didn't answer. Lucas slipped the disk in his pocket and opened the palm top. "OK," he said, checking the map. "I reckon we need about an hour to get out of here... then I'll give them half an hour..."
"Give who?" Braithwaite asked. Lucas didn't answer. "Listen, Wolenczak, are you going to let me in on your scheme or what?"
For an answer, Lucas turned his palm top screen towards the other man. Large red letters spelt out WEAPONS ARMED. Below that was a line reading TIME TO DETONATION: 90:00:00. Lucas pressed a button. The numbers started going down.
Braithwaite whistled. "You're going to blow this place up?"
"Do you really want them to keep it?" Lucas asked, raising an eyebrow.
Braithwaite nodded. "Good point. What now?"
Lucas quickly checked the map again, then pointed left. "This way."
"It feels like we've been walking for hours," Braithwaite muttered.
"We're nearly there," Lucas assured him in a low voice. He didn't want to admit that it was taking them longer than he had planned. His shoulder was beginning to hurt quite a lot now. "We've just got to get across this corridor, then – shit!" he said, looking at his palm top screen in dismay.
"What is it?" Braithwaite whispered.
"There are people out there," Lucas said, peering through the grating. "Guards."
"How many?"
Lucas checked the screen again. "Two. They'll be turning the corner in a moment."
The two men stared at each other for a moment in the half-light that came through the grating. "Can you delay the detonation?" Braithwaite asked.
Lucas shook his head. "Even if I could, we can't risk spending any longer than necessary here." He looked down at the screen again. "OK, they're gone. I don't know if they'll be back, though."
"We'll have to risk it," Braithwaite said. "One at a time."
Lucas nodded. "I'll go first." He took a deep breath, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, and counted to three, then opened the hatch way. Climbing out, he closed it quickly and crossed to the other side of the corridor. The hatch way there was higher up: he had to jump to reach the handle and then scramble up into the duct. It made quite a bit of noise, and he gritted his teeth as he was forced to put weight on his bad shoulder. Finally, though, he was up in the duct and pulled the hatch closed after him.
He popped open the palm top again and checked the screen. Then he stopped in horror and checked again. The guards were coming back. And there was no way he could warn Braithwaite.
He checked the clock quickly. Thirty-five minutes left. Almost time for the next stage. He could hear the boots of the guards coming closer, and prayed that Braithwaite heard it too. But then he saw the opposite hatch begin to open and swore under his breath.
The guards saw Braithwaite before he saw them. "Hey!" shouted one of them, "drop your weapon!"
Braithwaite was an experienced soldier, and he knew when to take a threat seriously. He dropped the pulse rifle. Both guards had their weapons pointed at him. "Kick it over here," said the one who had spoken before. Braithwaite obeyed. The guard picked up the rifle and looked at it. Then he gestured to Braithwaite.
"Lie down with your hands on your head."
It was that moment that Lucas chose to act. He typed a command into the palm top, and suddenly the noise of a siren filled the air. The two guards looked up, confused, and Lucas burst out of the hatchway, firing as he came. Both were down in seconds.
"Come on," Lucas yelled to Braithwaite. "Run!"
And they ran.