Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis is in no way, shape, or form mine, nor do I make any profit from the following story. It is a work of fan fiction necessitated by the three-plus month hiatus between the first 10 episodes and the remainder of the first season!

Ghosts of Prague

By Kerr Avon

8. The Rescue Party

"Wow, would you look at all this!" Ford let out a low whistle as he examined the lower chamber. "Can you imagine what the scientists are going to do when they get hold of this place?"

Stackhouse raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised Sheppard managed to drag Zelenka away."

"Where are they, anyway, sir? Shouldn't they be in the immediate vicinity?" Markham kept his weapon up and ready.

"You'd think so, but possibly they tried to get out on their own." Ford carefully assessed the room. "The only obvious exit is over there." He pointed at the exit the Major had taken with his injured charge.

Teyla noticed something on the ground as they passed one of the oversized tables. "Look! There is a mark on the floor."

Aiden knelt next to the red arrow pointing in the direction they were headed. "That's the same marker Zelenka was using upstairs."

"Well at least we know they weren't taken against their will; no kidnapper would give them time to mark which way they went." Markham was practical.

Ford wasn't wholly convinced. "Let's keep our weapons ready, just in case." He jerked his head towards the door. "OK, let's move out."

It wasn't difficult following their trail; at every juncture or intersection, a red arrow clearly pointed the direction taken by the missing men. A final arrow indicated the door to a room. "Perhaps they stopped for the night," suggested Teyla hopefully.

Ford mentally assessed the distance traveled. "If so, then one of them is hurt. They're moving awfully slow." Quietly opening the door, he inspected the room before gesturing for the rest of the team to follow him.

The room was a disaster, with ripped up machines and metal fragments littering the floor. Oversized tables, both upright and overturned, were strewn about as well. At the far end of the chamber the damage seemed to increase exponentially, culminating in the frozen figure of an oversized robot. They rounded the last bank of machines and approached it with awe.

Teyla, however, was more observant. While the soldiers' eyes had been riveted on the form of the lifeless android, she had been visually watching for signs that their men had been here. As they came around the console, she looked back behind its corner, only to see the two men in question. Her eyes widened in shock. "Lieutenant! They are here!" Forgetting the rest of the room existed, she rushed to Major Sheppard's side.

"Doctor! Major!" Ford and the others rushed over as well. Aiden was aghast. Dr. Zelenka sat on the floor, back against the side of the console, head tilted to the right. His leg was stretched out before him and incased in a makeshift splint, while a rod that could be used as a crutch or cane was clutched tightly in his hands. His eyes were closed, but his mouth hung open; he had clearly fallen asleep.

Sheppard lay stretched out supine on the floor, tightly bundled in blankets to help prevent shock. His head was pillowed on Zelenka's rolled-up science jacket, and what little could be seen of him was truly gut-wrenching. His face was scraped and bruised, one eye was swollen shut, and his hair was matted with blood. It didn't take a rocket scientist, 'and God knows we've got enough of them', to tell that these men weren't getting out under their own power. Turning to Stackhouse, Ford ordered, "Go back to the ropes and signal for Beckett and the medical team. Three jerks on the rope, got it?"

Stackhouse pulled his eyes away from his battered commander. "Yes, sir. Right away!" Jumping up, he hurried out of the room.

Teyla began gently unwrapping the Major while Markham crouched nearby. Ford turned his attention to the Doctor, in the hopes of getting some answers. He reached out and gently shook his shoulder. "Doctor? Doctor Zelenka?"

The Czech woke with a start and focussed wide eyes blearily on Ford. "Lieutenant! Thank goodness you're here." He struggled to direct the young man's attention to Sheppard. "The Major is badly injured; his arm, his thigh, some ribs..."

Teyla looked up from the unconscious man as Aiden tried to calm the scientist. "He is right. Major Sheppard is gravely ill."

Ford kept his attention on the slight doctor. "It's OK, It's OK, just settle down. We've sent for stretchers, Beckett, and a medical team. They should be here any minute." Once he got him to settle down, he continued, "Now, what happened? How did you, with your broken leg, manage to haul the Major all this way?"

Zelenka shook his head in denial. "No, no, no. You have got it wrong. Major Sheppard helped me to get this far. He received his injuries in this room, not in the fall."

Aiden was instantly on the alert, as was Markham. Both drew their weapons in response to the physicist's words and warily surveyed the room. "So, who did this to him? Are they likely to come back?"

Zelenka would have laughed, except he considered the possibility of accidentally being shot very real. "No, no, NO! You are not understanding me. The damage was done by that...thing." He gesticulated towards the still-frozen automaton.

Ford stood to examine it. Drawn as Sheppard had been to the design on its forehead, he reached out a finger...

"NO!!! Do not touch that word. You will reactivate it!" Zelenka was uncharacteristically forceful in his fear. Ford jerked his hand back as if it had been burned. However, any further questions he might have had were forestalled by Beckett's arrival.

The physician's eyes bugged slightly as he caught sight of his two patients. Involuntarily he exclaimed, "Holy crap, what happened to you?"

Zelenka smiled in irony. "The fall happened to me...that robot happened to Major Sheppard."

Beckett shook his head, clucking his tongue, and knelt to get to work. While some of the medics loaded Zelenka onto a stretcher and strapped him in, Carson turned all his attention to Sheppard. He had remained unconscious throughout the entire 'rescue' so far, and his face had a waxy pallor that Beckett didn't like. His breathing was shallow and rapid, his pulse fast and his blood pressure low. He rapidly reached the same conclusions as Zelenka had earlier, plus a few more for completeness' sake. Concussion, hypotension, probable rib fractures without pneumothorax, shoulder dislocation, lacerations (one severe), contusions, unknown intraabdominal injuries, and shock. All Beckett could really do here was start an IV and get moving as quickly as possible.

TBC....

AN: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews so far; sorry about the delay in posting - real life got in the way!