Part 9
Sheppard, Dex, Teyla and the seven marines charged into the abandoned medical lab. Guns were kept at the ready. Another ten marines stood guard outside surrounding a medical team.
"All clear! Get in here!" Sheppard ordered. He watched as the medical personnel stormed the room with cool efficiency. Without hesitation a small step ladder was set up and two people climbed up and disappeared into the ceiling.
"Well?" Sheppard asked in impatience.
"He's alive," A voice shouted back. "Now get the Hell out of our way and let us do our work."
Sheppard merely nodded and stepped back. He watched quietly as medical people swarmed like ants into the room up into the ceiling and onto the ladder.
The colonel kept a hand near his ear and listened in on the two puddle jumpers that criss- crossed the open ocean around Atlantis.
His attention was slightly distracted when people started crawling back out of the ceiling.
In no time, McKay was lowered down, bandaged, stuck with two IVs and portable oxygen. They strapped him onto a gurney and rushed him from the room. Orders were relayed and a surgery suite was prepped even as the patient was pushed from the darkened room.
The sun had set, casting the room into deep greys as night quickly soaked the sky.
A nurse headed for the door but stopped and turned, "What about Dr. Beckett?"
"He's next," Sheppard promised.
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A full moon cast the blackened ocean with silver highlights as waves rolled by, traveling in their own unhurried fashion for a distant shore.
A Puddle Jumper hovered a few meters over the water.
After a few seconds a man in a life jacket and harness was lowered by cable. A few feet from the rolling ocean surface the cable stopped. The man slowly turned in circles as a steady breeze blew from the west.
He held a halogen hand held search light and played it over the surface of the water, back and forth slowly making his way toward the support pillars of Atlantis.
The light swam over the large pillars and their horizontal aprons, illuminating the trail that searching eyes followed.
The beam swung over a pillar and paused. The beam swung back to the dark shape that sat leaning against the vertical support with legs bent, arms resting on knees.
"Doc?" Sheppard called out to the dark form stuck close to the leg of a structural support. Beckett sat on a wide apron, his back flush against the vertical leg with legs drawn up and head resting on his folded arms across his knees. Sheppard sighed with relief.
"It's a nice night, Doc, but don't you think its time we take this dog and pony show inside?" Sheppard gave his best Devil may care smile but let it drop when Carson didn't stir.
The colonel raised his hand held spot light and flashed it on the still figure. He held it steady until the chief medical officer lifted his head and was forced to shield his eyes and turn away from the sharp light. Sheppard hissed in a breath, seeing the dark telltale stain of blood that caked the side of the doctor's face and ear. The colonel immediately raised the aim of the light up above Beckett's head.
"Doc, you hear me?" Sheppard waited a moment, fearing the dried blood meant more trouble than he could handle alone.
"Come on Doc, answer me," Sheppard spoke, hooking his light to the harness strap near his shoulder. With the light secure and shining above Beckett's head, the colonel started to cautiously unhook the coiled light weight rope and life jacket he had brought with him.
Silence reigned between the small spot of ocean between the two men.
"I found him," Sheppard spoke through his comlink, "He's about 10 yards in front of me, looks pretty banged up. Can you get me a little closer?"
Sheppard hefted the coiled rope, mentally measuring how much slack he would need to toss the line and jacket to Beckett.
"Sure thing, Colonel," Stackhouse responded.
John tightened his grip on the cable he dangled from and felt himself get tugged along until he came to just within 10 feet of Beckett and his pillar.
"That's as far as we can go, Colonel," Stackhouse's voice echoed over the comlink.
"Good enough," Sheppard replied. The Colonel turned his attention back to Beckett, who watched him with a hint of confusion.
"Doc? Doc, I'm going to toss you this rope and life vest," Sheppard explained as he held the coiled end of rope in his left hand and in his right the life jacket and gathered slack. "I want you to grab it and put the jacket on. You understand me? I want you to put the PFD on when you get it." Sheppard looked across the few meters of dark rolling waters to the small apron of the support leg and stared at the Scotsman.
Beckett stared back, "Sean O'Connor didn't like swimming."
Sheppard paused at the odd statement and then slowly nodded, "I know Doc. I know." Shit.
Carson nodded too and pushed himself tighter against the pillar. He eyed the water distrustfully.
Sheppard noticed that the doctor could not have pushed himself any further from the apron's edge and the water. In fact, he was only a few meters away from a larger more secure platform on another support leg, which surely would have given him more room.
"Rodney?" Beckett asked again, still keeping his eye on the water that lapped gently against the pillar's skirt.
"McKay's going to be okay, Doc. He'll be grumbling for you to fix him up in no time." Sheppard paused, "that was a Hell of a tackle, Doc. Think you could play center tackle for the Patriots."
Beckett absently nodded and cautiously struggled to his feet, keeping his back flush to the pillar and eyes on the moving water.
"Carson? You ready?" Sheppard called again, fearing the doctor was not truly hearing him. He swung the rope and life jacket back and forth gaining momentum before letting it go and sending it sailing in a high arc across the water to the doctor.
The life jacket and attached rope hit the edge of the apron and slid slightly in toward the pillar.
Carson cringed at the sound of the life jacket and snaking rope and pushed himself tighter against the support leg.
The PFD landed just out of his reach. Beckett made no move to grab it.
"Doc! Get the life jacket!" Sheppard hollered.
He watched as Beckett tentatively reached out an amazingly steady hand and made a hesitant attempt to grab the vest. A passing wave rolled by dragging the rope and jacket a little further out toward the edge, away from Beckett. Sheppard watched disheartened as Beckett recoiled back against the support beam, snatching his hand in close to his torso.
"What the Hell?" the Colonel muttered.
Teyla's voice sounded over the comlink, "Is everything alright colonel?"
"Hell no, Beckett won't reach for the damn jacket," Sheppard answered and swore as the PFD and rope were pulled back into the water by the lazy rolling action of the ocean swells.
"Damn it, Beckett, grab the jacket, when I toss it to you."
This time Sheppard noticed the quick shake of Beckett's head, clearly saying he had no intention of reaching out for it and settled back down on his haunches.
"Creature might still be down there," Dex offered from within the open ramp of the hovering puddle jumper.
"Shit," Sheppard exclaimed, suddenly pulling his dangling legs up away from the water. "Didn't think of that," He muttered. "Anything on the scanner?"
"No," Ronan answered, "but it's been wrong before."
"Beautiful," Sheppard's nervous whisper easily reached those in the Jumper. "Ronan, you have that stunner?"
"Yes," Ronan's confidence gave Sheppard a spark of hope.
"Beckett! Doc!" Sheppard shouted out again. He breathed a sigh of relief when Beckett raised his head off his folded arms and stared across the water, blinking as if trying to focus. "That's it Doc. Listen, we're going to get you off your perch in no time," Sheppard hollered. "Is Mr. Personality still around?"
Sheppard suspected the answer but it chilled him anyhow when Beckett started to nod.
Both the Colonel and the doctor were caught off guard when the water around the apron of the support leg suddenly foamed and then erupted. The black creature shot from the water with arms outstretched, reaching for purchase on the apron. Its curved claws dug into the surface and caught. The black shoulders bunched and curled as the monster started to pull itself out of the water and claw its way toward the Scotsman.
Sheppard watched dismayed as Beckett leaped to his feet and half turned, appearing to nearly scale the pillar in an attempt to get away; with no success.
The creature gained purchase and started to lift itself from the water.
Sheppard cursed and twirled around the cable, reaching to unholster his sidearm. He watched as Beckett suddenly change tactics and crab-crawled forward, lashing out repeatedly with his foot connecting solidly with the creature's head each time. The creature snarled and snared the highlander's ankle, stopping the kicking and dragging the doctor closer into its grasp.
Beckett attacked with his other foot. His hands curled behind him as clawless fingers scraped for purchase against the apron surface.
Sheppard watched as Carson landed frantic blow after frantic blow with his left foot until the creature finally slipped from the apron taking Beckett's right shoe with it.
It disappeared under the water. The surface quickly smoothed over hiding any sign of the struggle that had just occurred.
Beckett scrambled back from the edge to stand shakily flush against the vertical support.
"Holy shit!" Sheppard sputtered. "All right Doc, alright. I get it now. I get it. Sit tight."
"We got a problem down here," Sheppard directed his voice to the comlink. "That thing is under the water near Beckett. Looks like it's been trying to get a hold of him periodically."
"Shoot it," Ronan stated.
Sheppard rolled his eyes, "I can't, not without taking the risk of hitting Beckett."
"Then stun them," Ronan offered.
"Any other brilliant suggestions from the peanut gallery?" Sheppard asked with disgust.
He closed his eyes and sighed when he heard Telya whisper to someone in the puddle jumper, "What is a peanut gallery?"
The colonel's dismay was short lived when the water once again around the pillar exploded.
The creature threw itself half onto the apron and lashed out with a clawed hand, snapping Beckett's ankle out from underneath him. The doctor was unceremoniously swept off his feet. With a second desperate lunge the monster snared the front of Beckett's jacket and hauled the struggling doctor toward the water.
"Shit!" Sheppard hollered and began to fire at the scaled back of the creature. He'd risk hitting Beckett. The medical team was pretty good with bullet wounds. The carnage wreaked by the creature might prove more of a challenge.
Both the creature and Beckett disappeared under the water.
"Use the stun!" Sheppard shouted. "Stun the damn water!"
Sheppard watched amazed as Beckett broke through the surface of the water only twenty yards from him gasping for breath.
Ronan pulled his finger off the 'trigger' of the stun and bided his time from the open door of the puddle jumper.
"Swim! Carson! Swim!" John hollered and watched as Beckett tossed out a jacketed arm and started swimming frantically for the Colonel.
Sheppard kept his gun pulled and watched the chief medical officer put his face in the water and desperately kicked, slicing through the water in Sheppard's direction. Three strokes, breathe to the left, three strokes breathe to the right. The colonel watched as Carson cut through the water with economically fierce strokes.
Faster, Carson, faster.
For a moment, John thought Beckett might have made it. A glimpse of hope flared briefly--Beckett was only a few feet away from him.
Suddenly, Carson simply disappeared under the surface just as he rolled to his side to pull in another breath. One second he was there, cutting through the water's surface like an Olympian, and the next he was gone without so much as a splash.
"Stun the water!" Sheppard ordered. Not even a ripple marked the doctor's one time presence.
The blackened waters, under the light of a full moon, swelled and rolled by with no hint as to the struggle that might be occurring within its depths.
Sheppard frantically searched the tranquil surface with wide, dilated eyes.
Beckett suddenly broke through the surface just below John, heaving in great draughts of breath. Horror flashed in his eyes, as he struggled to drag in great, heaving and choking breaths, clawing desperately to reach John's dangling feet.
Sheppard stared at the wild, terrorized look on the doctor's face and lunged down for the imploring hand which swiped blindly for anything to latch onto. Their finger tips brushed one another and Sheppard dove downward against the harness trying to curl his hand around the doctor's outstretched wrist. The nylon harness bit through his shirt and sliced its way into his skin. Come on, Beckett, come on! John ordered quietly.
The creature lunged up behind Beckett and dove over the top of him submerging himself and the physician.
Both disappeared back under the black surface. White foam and spiking ripples marked their violent descent.
Dex fired the stunner, blasting the water.
Blue electric charges danced and snapped over the water's surface. The smell of ozone filled the immediate area.
The cracking charges slowly dissipated leaving the ocean silent and black.
Sheppard waited just a moment. "Lower me down! Gawd damn it lower me down!" He shouted when he saw the tan and yellow jacket that signified Beckett's medical wing float lazily to the surface.
The doctor floated face down in the water.
"Gawd damn it!" Sheppard exclaimed and lifted himself one handed on the cable, loosening the tension on the snap and unbuckled himself. He free fell the few feet into the black ocean water.
He swam three quick strokes toward the doctor and rolled him over. He pulled Carson's head back, partially submerging Beckett's forehead and forcing the slack jaw to part.
"He's not breathing!---I need some help down here!" Sheppard shouted as he readjusted Beckett's head, pinched his nose off and puffed three quick breathes into the doctor. He took some satisfaction in seeing Beckett's arched chest expand.
There was a splash beside him and soon Ronan was on the other side of Beckett supporting the doctor under the shoulders and neck, helping to keep him above the surface.
Sheppard re-adjusted Beckett's head and neck, and once again delivered three solid breathes.
"Breathe, you son of a bitch," Sheppard cursed and once again, readjusted Beckett's head and neck, keeping the airway open and delivered three more quick breaths.
With the last breath, Sheppard was rewarded with the sudden violent expulsion of fluid from Beckett's lungs.
"Arrggh," Sheppard whipped his head to the side and spit out the foul, tenacious fluid that had once been in Beckett's lungs.
"Easy, Doctor," Ronan's deep voice had Sheppard turning his attention back to the listlessly moving physician who choked and rasped in short erratic breaths.
"Send another set up down here!" Sheppard ordered and then added, "you medical boys ready to receive your boss?"
"Yes, sir," a young marine medic answered confidently from within the puddle jumper. Though technically Beckett wasn't their boss, Sheppard had noticed that the young marines followed the chief medical officer's directions with unfailing dedication and building loyalty. He wondered if Beckett realized the faith others had in his abilities.
"Good because here he comes."
A third harness was dropped down. Sheppard and Ronan wasted no time getting Beckett strapped into it.
"Okay, haul him up."
Ronan was lifted with Carson, supporting the doctor's head and shoulders the best he could.
Sheppard treaded water, his eyes nervously searching the dark water as he waited his turn to be air lifted. He kept his legs close to his torso, working smoothly but cautiously, trying to keep himself afloat without offering too much motion. His heart pounded as the line was once again dropped down to him, ready to pull him to safety.
He hooked the cable to his harness and gave the okay.
The cable tightened and he was slowly lifted from the icy water.
His fear heightened as sure rescue became closer.
He didn't recall himself hollering; he did remember with crystal clarity, the creature driving up through the water desperately lunging for his legs.
He clearly recalled drawing his gun and firing. He remembered counting every controlled burst Ronan and Teyla fired from the puddle jumper.
Sheppard held tight to the cable with one hand, firing relentlessly at the creature that had killed good men-- his men--soldiers who at times seemed more like kids that were under his care and protection, than skilled fighting men. They had followed his orders because they had faith and respect in him. They believed in him.
Sheppard continued to fire. McKay lay in surgery fighting for his life; Beckett hadn't been breathing; Joey Sullivan would never swap another chocolate, chocolate chip cookie for a burned strip of bacon with someone else just to aggravate McKay. Sean O'Connor would never again irritate Beckett into near apoplexy with the argument that 'Soccer' was the real name for the game and the rest of the world just couldn't keep up with change.
Sheppard fired until his gun clicked empty.
The colonel slowly holstered his weapon as he gained the edge of the puddle jumper. He sat on the floor with his legs dangling outside searching the blackening water.
"It is gone, Major," Telya pointed out, "Our firing removed its head from its shoulders."
Sheppard merely nodded and muttered, "Colonel."
He turned his attention to the back compartment of the jumper and watched as two marine medics worked feverishly over Beckett's lethargically moving form.