Thank you to both reviewers... :p
rankukonalpha1: thank you
greyangle: heh, fubar given form... i like it! better then a dream given form...
Thirty-Three
It was chaos, pure unadulterated chaos.
And it was malevolent, fuelled by hatred, fear and desperation.
Bullets flying backwards and forth, the loud, ringing singing of ricochets, the screaming of the wounded and dying, the shouted orders, grunts and cries of those still fighting, the sparking of shorting electrical cables, all emphasised by the strobe light flickering of the few lights that hadn't died in the first seconds of firing.
A whoosh, then a flickering, eerily red light as liquid flame poured from behind the gate, dancing around its base, reaching eagerly for the feet of those stood on the metal ramp above.
Reeman didn't know if his miss-thrown grenade had caused that, or a ricochet, nor did he care, this wasn't a time for thinking; this was a time for doing and reacting.
Like he was doing, a looted P-90 in his hands, spitting death towards anyone whom approached and wasn't one of his. Pity any poor SGC personnel who might have been held prisoner here, but he didn't have the time to be more selective, not here and now.
He caught a glimpse of something out the corner of his eye, and dived, cursing behind the protective bulk of the battered, limping and blood-splattered MALP.
A shudder, an impression of noise on his sound-deadened eardrums, a feeling of something tearing at his feet, then pain.
Pain, terrible, tearing, aching and burning.
He had been hit, hadn't dived fast enough, in his job that was always a risk. A part of him wondered how he could be so analytical at a time like this; another part knew he was in shock from his injuries.
Another part of him, the one that kept the sliver oak leaf on his DDSM from being posthumous, was already checking the P-90 over for damage with one eye, whilst the other swept his surroundings for threats.
It was this second eye that brought him up short, as horrified, but somehow not surprised it noted blood pouring from where his feet used to be.
He didn't know how long he stayed still, gazing shocked at the stumps, all he knew was that it was a distinct impression of heat on his back that got him jerking back to reality, his face contorted with fear as he realized the flickering, burning heat of the fire was far to close for safety, and rolling towards him furiously.
Desperate fear had him moving towards the lone open doorway out of the gateroom, he didn't want to die, no solider ever did, but if he had to choose a way to die, it certainly would not be by burning to death. Just the thought was enough to get the adrenaline flowing faster, his heart desperately pumping more of his precious blood out of his torn and amputated legs onto the hard concrete of the base.
It was with great relief that he felt pressure on his back; a heavy jerking bringing his body upwards off the floor, his legs sending pure shards of unadulterated pain into his body as his was dragged, fast and hard with no thought except to keep him away from the flames and the awful death that would bring to him.
There was a whirring, an impression of bring dropped, then a moment of pure unholy agony and Reeman knew no more.
"Okay… okay," Willow knew she probably sounded hysterical right now, but frankly she didn't care, if there ever was a time for hysterics, this was certainly it, "Gibbs… Gibbs!"
"She's dead," Devon screamed at her, tears running down her soot marked face, leaving strangely clean tracks amongst the blackness, "she's dead Willlow, dead!"
"Okay, okay," Willow breathed hard and fast, desperate to get some control, desperate to clear her mind of the desperate madness she had managed to escape from, "detail two bodies, get Reeman up to the Doc, and fast, otherwise we're going to lose him"
Gibbs nodded; her hand flicking as she pointed to the walking wounded. They didn't have space for dead weight right now, and frankly she couldn't spare anyone able bodied to get Reeman away. It was best if the injured made their own way to the infirmary, taking their less able comrades with them.
Willow sighed, her chest heaving as she strained to get air into her lungs, coughs raking her body as the hot sooty air damaged her slowly, but surely. She shook her head, desperately forcing discipline upon herself, shoving the discomfort in her lungs to the back of her mind, making the coughing stop.
It was a trick, an act of pure will the coven had taught her, and she knew she would pay for it dearly later. This wasn't a time for thoughts of the future, this was the last desperate act to stop an apocalypse, this was a time for thinking of the now. The later could wait… till later, assuming there was one.
"Nest… where's the Nest boys?" she shouted, smiling tightly as a small, battered group of men stepped forwards towards her. Good, if none of them had survived then they would really have been in shit.
"Did you get a look at the devices?"
"No, didn't see them, Geiger was spiking though but that might have been the gate itself…"
"I saw them," Devon stepped forward, "behind the gate, resting on what looked like an emergency generator and some fuel drums"
"Nothing like that was on the SGC's plans," the Nest guy who appeared to be in charge noted.
Willow just shook her head, not even able to feel surprise anymore, must have brought it with them. "What's the risk with the fire….?"
"In theory, there is no risk" the man shrugged, "each device should maintain full containment. Unfortunately, I certainly am not putting any money on the heat disabling the devices"
"We certainly cant get back at the device, we be burned to a crisp before we could even get close," Devon stepped forward, resting one hand on the heavy but now closed metal door to the gateroom itself. The hand didn't stay there long, Devon withdrawing it with a swift curse. She didn't need to say what that meant.
"No, we can get at the device," Willow smiled sadly at Devon, "just not through conventional means"
"Do you have strength enough for that Willow? After all you have done?"
She sighed, her tone heavy, "I have no choice, I will have to have the strength needed, but what I don't have is the knowledge. I will be the tool but I must" she turned to face the small, three strong group of Nest personnel, "have one of you to act as the brain. Understand this, if they set any traps around the device, or if I do not have the strength necessary to bring us back to our bodies afterwards, that your soul might be forfeit"
All three stepped forward with just a moments pause.
Willow smiled again, sadly heartfelt, grateful, compassionate and yet somehow defeated, as if in expectation of her death to come.
"Who knows the most about the physical side of such devices? Which one of you is most likely to be able to disable this device?"
There was a moment's pause, and then the leader stepped forward once more.
Willow nodded once, acknowledging him, "You know, I don't even know your name"
"Hale, Riley Hale M'am"
She gazed at him, uncertainly, "why do this Hale?"
He smiled, tightly, almost grinning, "If the world ends, my wife is going to kill me. Besides, this aint the first time I have had to deal with a nutjob with nukes…"
She smiled uncertainly, but nodded, sitting down carefully on the ground, gesturing the Nest agent to do the same, but close to her. He sat down, and with a groan, Willow moved across, bringing her body into physical contact with his, "sorry, but I need every little drop of energy I can scavenge and frankly, the physical connection is by the far the strongest, we will need that for what we are about to do"
Hale nodded, "you know," he noted philosophically, "this morning I didn't even believe witches exist; now I am about to mind-meld with one"
"Life," Willow noted, "is full of surprises"
Closing her eyes, she reached down, placing her hands upon the floor.
He watched her, carefully, assessing. He hadn't been kidding; he had been forced to deal with a Broken Arrow before, but that, well, that was a purely human thing. This entire mission had been something else entirely, and he was about to let a woman he didn't know into the very recesses of his mind, an act far more intimate then he had ever performed with his Terry all to save the world.
She was right, life was full of surprises.
He frowned, was there a breeze developing?
A moment later, it blew stronger, the smoke being blown out of the corridor, for which he was grateful. Still, he couldn't hear anything that would suggest the air-con was back on, so why would there be a breeze?
His eyes rested back on Willow, then went very wide, his jaw dropping as before his eyes, her hair bleed free of all colour, turning completely, startling pure white.
A shiver of awe and respect rose form a deep dark, primitive corner of his soul, recognising at some deep old level not just the power that was being represented but the pureness, the inherent Goodness of it.
He didn't move, not even blink, entirely mesmerized as Willow reached for his face, her hands resting on either side of his face.
There was a moment of dislocation, then his body dropped away beneath him and Riley Hale, Nest Agent and former Air Force Pilot ascended.
There was pressure, containing him, exerting its will upon him, holding him to this place and he didn't like that. But he could do nothing against the presence, the being that held him here against his wishes. He wanted, he needed at some deep and ancient level to be free, to roam the stars, to chart their infinite mysteries and play with their myriad jewels of worlds.
But he couldn't, this unwanted one was keeping him here, whispering to him of duty, of the needs of others, of a mission. He had his mission and it wasn't here, it was amongst those fiery balls he could hear, he could feel calling to him from the heavens above.
He would lash out, force his way free, but he didn't know how, he didn't know how to injure, to cause pain, to escape. A part of him didn't like that, found it strange. He silenced that part, it was obviously an aberration.
Then the voice spoke to him again and a cold pit settled deep inside his soul, his being.
Terry.
Terry Carmichael.
His Wife.
Would he do it for her?
He remembered.
He remembered the years as Deaks partner, then the deepness of his betrayal.
He remembered the nukes going rogue, he remembered the plucky Park Ranger who had helped him recover the last one, preventing millions from dying because of the madness of one man.
He remembered kissing her, loving her, the laugh she had that was only for him, the sweet names that were for his ears alone.
Would he do it for her?
Yes, he would do it for her, he would die for her.
He remembered.
The pressure around him relaxed, not so much controlling any more as guiding, teaching, drawing him towards the task that had to be done.
There were nukes to be disarmed; he could feel them, the dirty putridness of their radiations almost painful against his form.
He could sense a full twelve devices around him, but he knew that not all of them were a threat; the SGC's own fail-safes were as far as he knew disabled.
The voice… Willow reminded him that he could not afford to assume they were safe, there were far too many question marks over how they had been disabled in the first place.
He nodded, reflexively, then wondered how he could nod when he no longer had any true form? It didn't matter, not now; he could worry about it later. Right now, he had a task to complete.
Then, he grinned, sending a thin experimental tendril of thought towards the witch. There was a weak, drained impression of a grin back, and then a heaviness settled over his mind…
Knowledge, suddenly he knew more, like why the physical law of conservation of energy applied to magic still, despite the widely different mechanics of physics and magic, he knew what a magical addiction felt like, he knew why intention meant little and everything at the same time for grey magics…
He knew everything Willow knew in fact; she had given him her knowledge, knowing that she no longer had strength enough for the task at hand.
He knew the instant the guiding hand she had laid over his form vanished.
And he knew he could do nothing to help, not yet.
There were magics over the devices, she had been right about that, and they were strong but they were not subtle, he cast them aside with ease. Then, with equally contemptuous ease, he cracked the casings of the devices open, lifting the fissionable material away from the detonators, not bothering to check which was an authorised device and which wasn't, Willow was right after all, he couldn't take the risk that the official devices had been compromised. He didn't even need to worry about the correct, safe approach, not know, not when he could make this safe.
He would have to act quickly though, he could already feel the startled, curious eyes of others, equally non-corporeal begin to fall upon him.
Swiftly, he cast the material out, throwing it abruptly out of the atmosphere and into the depths of space, spinning swiftly into the all-consuming fires of the sun.
The… others, they were closer now, still… he had time.
He made his way towards the Willow, gazing upon her, seeing if he could return some of the epic strength that had lifted him into ascension, even if that hadn't been the plan. There was no need, others guarded here, others who were far more powerful then he but somehow… bound, tied to this place.
He was startled, recognising one, his mind reverently whispering the word deep within the recesses of his soul.
Gaia herself protected this one.
He could do nothing if she decided it was Willows time, best move on.
The others were here now, watching him, startled, bemused, angry, afraid yet all welcoming.
Still, he had one more thing to do, one last duty before he allowed the pull to take him away from the world of his birth.
He felt a wave of acceptance, some didn't like but they all understood. He could say goodbye to his Terry.
