MISCONSTRUED - Part III - by NotTasha
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CHAPTER 8: AS IF THE HOUNDS OF HELL
Ford burst through the event horizon into Atlantis with Richmond behind, as if the hounds of hell were at their heels. Within minutes, he had rattled off the situation to Weir. Richmond had impressed him, giving detailed information regarding the known injuries of the scientists, filling in the medical team that congregated.
The first wave of the rescue unit went through almost immediately – the triage group was accustomed to assembling quickly and dispatching. Richmond went with them, leading the way. The excavation and recovery group would take longer to bring their materials together. Ford remained until they were ready to follow.
The lieutenant accompanied Weir to her office. "Someone will have to go after the Major," Ford told her.
Weir sighed discontentedly. She paused before she reached her office and called to Halling who was watching the activity in the Gateroom from the balcony. Ford frowned, watching as the tall Athosian strode toward them and they entered her office together. This wasn't the time for including him, Ford thought ruefully.
"We have to inform the Major," Ford insisted. "He needs to know what happened. Teyla will want to know, too."
"Lieutenant," Weir said softly. "Would it make any difference if they were there?"
The question brought Ford up short. "They would want to be there, ma'am. The Major, I'm certain, will want to know. Dr. McKay is missing. The doctor is a member of our team." He glanced to Halling, wondering why the man was there. "Teyla will feel the same way. She'll be upset if we don't tell her." And he let that hang, as if her temper was reason enough to do anything.
"We have a skilled team assembling – the best men for the situation," Weir responded. " If Major Sheppard were to attend, he could offer little more."
"He could offer his presence, ma'am," Ford rejoined.
"But his presence is needed elsewhere at this moment." Weir spoke to the Athosian, "Halling, what would happen if we were to break into the Capilano negotiation before it concluded?"
Halling stood with his shoulders hunched – still nearly a head taller than either of them. "The negotiations would fail," he answered. He looked apologetically toward Ford. "The Capilanos would feel that we have shamed them if we were to pull our people from the meetings before they have ended. They do not appreciate people going against their wishes."
"And the bartering agreements?" Weir led on.
With a shrug, Halling told them, "They would not wish to speak to you again. They are generous people with those that are generous to them. If they felt that you had been inconsiderate with them, then all communications would end. They highly appreciate the participation in their friendship ceremonies. It is their greatest joy." His eye twitched at those words, as if he'd been a part of such ceremonies at some point.
"So if we were to pull Sheppard from the festivities now, we'd get nothing from them?" Weir repeated to clarify.
Halling responded with a nod.
"The Major would want to be with us," Ford insisted in a low voice.
"I know, Aiden," Weir said sympathetically. "But what could he do besides move rocks?"
"He needs to be there. He'll want to be moving those rocks. He'll want to be there when we find Dr. McKay." Ford tried not to think of the dire straits that McKay and the others were in. He tried not to think of Moody and – what might have happened to the Doc. It'd be dark in that cave. McKay would be hurt, no doubt. "He will want to be there," Ford repeated emphatically.
"Whether Major Sheppard is with you or not won't make any difference in the rescue," Weir said patiently. "And what if we were to move a few rocks and find our missing scientists unharmed? Can you imagine how upset Major Sheppard would be if we recalled him for nothing? We would have wasted this opportunity."
"It wouldn't be for nothing," Ford told her.
Weir sighed, understanding, wishing she could do exactly as Ford requested, but there were larger issues at stake. "He'll be back in two days. We can fill him in then. Now, I need you to lead the rest of the team to the site so that we can get Radek, Rodney and Alvin out of there."
"But Major Sheppard…"
"Has other responsibilities right now."
"This is his responsibility," Ford muttered, feeling a little cowardly because he realized that he wanted Sheppard back for his own peace of mind as well. He didn't want to deal with the consequences of this fall-in – he didn't want to face the worst possibilities without Sheppard there.
"I know. But this is the way it has to be."
Not at all happy, Ford nodded, and stated a quick, "Yes, ma'am," before he turned to the door.
"Aiden," Weir's voice stopped him.
Ford turned smartly to face her, his face set like stone. "Ma'am?"
"I agree with you," Weir told him softly. "He'd want to be there." She glanced to Halling. "They'd both want to be there. But there's nothing they could add to the rescue and we'd lose an opportunity to gain an important trading partner."
"Yes, ma'am," Ford responded sharply. "I just don't like it."
Weir smiled slightly. "Neither do I. And, I'll accept responsibility for Teyla and Major Sheppard's reaction when they return."
With a grim face, Ford replied, "Better be wearing your fire-proof underwear." He stopped suddenly, realizing what he'd said to the expedition leader. He added a polite, "Ma'am," to his statement and smiled weakly.
Weir returned the expression warmly. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she stated, "Go get Rodney and the others, Aiden. Bring them home."
The lieutenant nodded and left the office.
CHAPTER 9: LIKE A HORRIBLE DREAM
Moody's body was retrieved before any excavation began, and he was respectfully returned to Atlantis. But as the work started, there had been no sign of the others.
Teams worked in three-hour shifts and the tunnel was slowly cleared. Ford remained as the personnel changed, refusing to go while McKay and the others were still missing. Deroche, Richmond and Fairholm had stayed as well. Alava had helped escort the scientists home.
One of the marines had the ATA gene and brought a life sign detector - but it proved worthless. The tunnel showed no life, even when they had their searchers in the space.
Only two of the scientists from Merritt's team remained – Burnaby and Powell – the only ones who'd, so far, escaped unharmed. They hovered about and waited anxiously to see Merritt, talking to anyone who would listen, looking pissed off and concerned.
The spotlights cast dreamlike shadows as the teams labored underground, sending silhouettes into the night. The engineers, geologists and marines toiled to shore up and empty the passage. They arduously removed the rock, filling bins and buckets, carrying rubble out in armloads, carefully taking apart what had taken seconds to fall, looking for the missing three men, hoping for an open space beneath the rubble – a space large enough to safely contain three men. The festive tile, previously collected with such care, was crushed beneath the feet or swept unceremoniously into a grit-filled bucket to be dumped outside.
A geologist had set up a device to measure seismic activity. So far, all was quiet, but the woman watched the meter with a careful eye, forever pushing her glasses up her nose as she concentrated on the readings.
Beckett and several of his people stood ready near the entrance. Carson looked nervous, idly talking to the medical staff, but his gaze constantly flitting toward the opening to the complex. He was rarely at ease when he was outside of Atlantis, and this situation was hardly comforting. Any time someone shouted from within the hole, he'd flinch as if he dreaded what they were going to say.
Aiden felt sick. He'd been put in charge of this group, and had lost four people. Moody was dead – the man he'd ordered forward – and nothing looked good for the remaining three. He waited near Beckett in the white glare of the lights -- waited for more news, watching as bin after bin of rock was heaved from the entrance.
A mountain was building of evacuated rubble – and more bracings went in as they steadied the hallway and continued onward. They'd been at it for four hours and had cleared only half the tunnel. Rooms had been left alone as they figured that the missing men must still be in that collapsed hallway – because Moody had stated that they had been on their way out.
When a boot was uncovered, a shout went out. Carson winced again, and sprung into action. Ford slapped on his safety helmet and followed the medical team down. Fairholm, Deroche and Richmond went with him. As he descended, Aiden marveled at how much larger the tunnel seemed now that so much of it had fallen and been cleared away. He moved quickly to reach the others, just behind Beckett. A small team crouched at the far end of the tunnel, working to clear the rubble away from a man. The sight was horrifying.
Ford gulped, telling himself that he was a soldier, an officer, and would not react – but the smashed body, the shattered head made him close his eyes and slow his breathing as he promised himself that the wouldn't puke. Oh God… no. The man's head was unrecognizable… brown hair and torn flesh. His body was broken and bloody. Ford tried not to imagine it… the horrible death. God, what a way to go.
And worst of all, there was no telling who they'd found – it was just a body in bloody beige. Aiden found himself hoping, praying that it wasn't McKay… or Zelenka… friends, people he liked and knew. Please, not McKay… it can't be… He didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't help it as his chest tightened.
No… not McKay. Or Dr. Zelenka? No… no. He didn't want to believe it. He couldn't stand to think of either of them dying this way. That left only Merritt. Aiden felt awful wishing it were Merritt. When one the searchers found the flag patch on the busted shoulder, Ford held his breath as the cleaned it way, only exhaling as they declared it was an American.
He sent up a small prayer of thanks, even as he asked for forgiveness for wishing a man dead.
There was nothing for Beckett or his people to do for Alvin. Carson did a perfunctory check on the man, just going through the motions, but there was no doubt that Merritt was dead – dead -- dead. The Scot let out a low sigh, saying, "I'm sorry, Alvin."
And for a moment, everyone was silent in the glare of the spotlights.
Finally, feeling the quiet laying too heavily on them, Beckett stood. Grasping his medical bag, he nodded toward the wall of unexcavated rock and stated, "Rodney and Radek are under this?"
His jaw set, Aiden nodded tightly.
Carson looked lost, gazing from dark space that was open above the rubble. "They couldn't'a survived it," he said quietly. "None of them. You can't hope for an open spot under this."
"We'll keep looking," Ford insisted, glancing toward the exit as two men entered, carrying a body bag. "We're not going to give up."
Frustrated, Carson shouted, "Look at 'im, Lieutenant!" He gestured to the mashed remains of Merritt. "No one's gonna survive this. Look at what fell on 'em!" And he jabbed a hand toward the rock fall that still barred their way. "They're not gonna get out of this! There's just no way!"
Ford stepped forward, shoving Beckett back a step. The soldiers and medical personnel pulled back, waiting to see what happened next in the cramped space. "We will not stop looking!" Ford insisted. "I haven't given up, and I need YOU to keep believing, too."
Looking miserable, Beckett nodded. "Aye," he responded. "Aye, I want to… I want to."
"Dr. McKay is pretty bright," Ford tried. "Bet he found someplace to ride this out."
"Aye," was all Carson could say in response. He nodded, but kept his eyes downcast, watching as his staff carefully lifted Merritt's ruined body and placed him within the body bag. "Bright, yes he is."
And Ford couldn't help thinking that Beckett already looked as if he'd lost his friend.
Fairholm stepped back, pressing his back against the wall. "Moody said he'd seen the others in the tunnel with Dr. Merritt."
"They should be under this next bit of rock," Richmond decided, pointing to a space just beyond where they were standing, under a ton of debris.
"Christ," Deroche sighed, rubbing the back of his head, just under his helmet. "Jesus Christ…"
"Enough already," Ford growled. And everyone grew quiet as Merritt's body was carefully lifted. The glare of the bright lights made everything too stark. It was like a horrible dream. A need for dimness made Ford reach out and turn off the nearest of the spotlights, dropping the space into a more comforting shadow.
They stood in silence as the scientist's body was removed -- to follow Sgt. Moody back to Atlantis. How many men had they lost since they arrived in Atlantis? How many more would be lost? And Ford turned his head to the still-filled tunnel, hoping beyond hope that McKay and Zelenka had escaped the terrible finish that had found Merritt.
As he gazed to the collapse of stone, he frowned. "Turn off the other spots," he ordered.
"It'll get dark," Richmond told him. "I mean, pitch black. We won't be able to see a hand in front of your face."
"Turn them off!" Ford ordered, his gaze not leaving the space above the rubble.
There was a click, and another, and the group was plunged into darkness – but it wasn't as black as Richmond had suggested. In the unexcavated part of the tunnel, something glowed.
"What is that?" Beckett asked, reaching out to grasp hold of Ford's arm. He stepped closer to the lieutenant, unable to see anything but the soft glow that illuminated the rocks above their heads.
"Fairholm?" Ford called. "Before the cave in… were they using any spotlights this far into the cavern?"
"No sir," Fairholm responded. "They had a couple of portable units up near the front, but those got smashed. They were just using flashlights further down."
"What are the chances of a flashlight surviving the cave in?" For d asked in the darkness. "Still on, still working?"
"Not bloody likely, if you ask me," Beckett replied. "Unless of course, someone kept it safe with them."
"Get those spots on again!" Ford ordered and was engulfed immediately in bright white light. It took a moment for his eyes to function correctly. Finally, he blinked his vision clear and looked toward the wall of rock that partially filled the tunnel. It was possible that McKay and Zelenka were beneath it – yes – but he'd seen the light and a new hope reached him.
Without waiting any longer, he strode forward, grasping onto the rocky surface before him, and started climbing.
"Sir," Richmond called after him. "If they're under the rocks…"
"Then they're dead, private," Ford replied bluntly. "But I got a good feeling that they're not." He reached the top, finding an open space, wide enough to crawl through. Turning, he offered down a hand to Beckett, who held out his medical bag, and then followed.
CHAPTER 10: LIKE LIVING THINGS
It was slow going, crawling along the top of the rubble. The rocks shifted beneath them living things, and they slid, trying to find a purchase, but they never slowed. They passed two rooms that were so filled with debris it was unimaginable that anyone could have survived. The light… the light led them onward.
Ford kept moving, hearing Beckett struggling behind him and his swearing as knees scraped along the uncompromising rock, shoulders banged the low ceiling. "It's bloody difficult to do this with a helmet on!" Carson called from behind him.
"Then take it off," Ford commented, having his own difficulty trying to tip his head to one side to see where he was going, and to keep the back of the helmet from cutting into his neck.
"Not bloody likely," Beckett responded sharply, followed by the whack of his helmet meeting again with the low-slung ceiling, and "Blast!"
"We're almost there," Ford stated encouragingly, spotting the opening ahead of them from where the glow emanated. He clambered forward, struggling over the rocks, to finally reach the doorway and peer within. He let out a low breath at the sight that greeted him.
Behind him, Ford heard the cry from Beckett, "What? What do you see?"
"It's nowhere near as bad as the others," Ford called as he gazed about the room. The room was strewn with debris but, where the other rooms were filled halfway to the ceilings, this one had only a layer of rock across the floor. And against one side of the room – a light. Ford turned himself about and scooted down through the opening feet-first, landing unsteadily. "Dr. McKay?" he called. "Dr. Zelenka?"
Ford heard Beckett fussing around behind him, and Deroche further back, giving the doctor a hand. He let the medic handle the doctor and he clambered over the low level of rock toward the glow. It all shifted and crunched and shattered beneath his feet, but he moved carefully, looking where he stepped, making certain that no one was beneath his path. He reached the light as Beckett finally tottered onto the floor and Deroche came down behind him.
There was a low wall of fallen rock, and behind it – an open space – and alcove – a little safe spot within all the chaos. And beneath the rubble… a man with a flashlight.
"Beckett!" Ford called, leaning over the impeding rocks. "It's McKay!" God, Rodney looked like hell. He was bruised, and utterly still. Rocks covered half of him. A nasty wound had bled down his face. The dust had settled down into the blood and onto his skin, making him gray as a corpse. No, Ford thought, no… not a corpse. He reached out one hand, touching the pale face, hoping. Rodney felt cold. "Doc?" he called. "Doc, can you hear me?"
He heard Beckett clattering up behind him. The doctor grabbed hold of his arm to steady himself, and leaned against him, shining his light into the little alcove that had partially protected the physicist.
Ford's forehead furrowed in concern as Rodney didn't respond to his touch. "Come on, Doc," he whispered worriedly. Don't… you can't be… we found you… The tightness in his chest increased as he grappled with the rocks, removing the layer that trapped McKay's arm. No… no… no…
McKay came awake with a gasp, and Ford found himself smiling. "Doc," he called. "Hey, Dr. McKay." He could think of nothing else, so thrilled that the man wasn't dead. But Rodney didn't seem to see him. His unfocused eyes stared at nothing in the stark light as he gasped and tried to cough.
"Step back now, lad," Beckett ordered, getting around the lieutenant.
Ford didn't want to relinquish his place immediately, needing to talk to McKay, make sure he was okay, but now that his arm was freed, McKay was twisting about, his face contorted with pain. "S'okay, Doc," he tried to assure. "You're okay."
Beckett roughly shoved an arm across Ford's chest, forcing him back. "Julien, give me a hand!" Carson called as Ford stumbled away, letting Deroche take his place.
Aiden watched as the two leaned into the opening, hunched over McKay, who tried to curl up in the too small space and continued to wheeze in pain-filled breaths. "Be still, Rodney," Beckett's voice was soothing but uncompromising as he and Deroche worked to immobilize him. "It's okay. We found you." McKay made a sharp cry. "No, Rodney, don't move your arm. Don't move a'tall." Turning his head, Beckett demanded, "We need a backboard and a collar. Now, Lieutenant!"
And Ford clicked on his radio, issuing orders, getting people in motion. Meanwhile, he searched with his light, shining it up and down, at his feet, along the wall, over the fallen debris, until he discovered the second alcove deeper in the room. Of course… of course…
Stumbling over the rocks, he made his way toward it, reaching the sheltered spot. He could hear others coming up the narrow tunnel, could hear McKay making distressed sounds and Beckett's attempts to calm him. "I need you to be still, Rodney. You're hurt. I know… I know… We got you now. It's gonna be all right."
Deroche was on the radio, calling out more of their needs. He was going on about broken ribs, broken arm, concussion, possible internal injuries. Deroche sounded damn anxious about getting the supplies as Beckett kept working over McKay.
Ford crouched down to see inside the space and let out a breath as his light revealed what he was after. There, in the open space, curled around some odd shaped device, was Radek. "I found him!" he called. "I found Dr. Zelenka!" He pulled at rocks to get at the Czech.
Beckett looked up from his work, trying to keep Rodney from moving. "Thank God! Is he breathing?" Carson asked anxiously.
Finally finding enough space to reach in, Ford managed to grasp hold of a limp arm, and felt for a pulse. He nodded. "Alive… he's alive," he exclaimed.
"Kin you see any injuries?"
"He looks fine," Ford stated,
forcing away more of the rocks. "Can't see anything wrong
with him. I can't even see if any of these rocks hit him.
Radek? Radek? Can you hear me?" He couldn't get
close to the man. With a frustrated movement, he shoved the
microwave-sized device out of the way and was finally able to reach
him. "Dr. Zelenka?" he called again, as he reach his
shoulder. But Zelenka didn't respond, and the rest of
Beckett's team stumbled into the room.
--------------------
TBC
- They found them! That's gotta be good right? Things
gotta be looking up now...
