AN: Yeah, I agree. I'm pretty surprised that Sheppard's still moving; I'd be curled up in a whimpering ball in a hospital bed someplace with those injuries. He's just loads tougher than me…
SPOILERS for "Trinity"
SUMMARY: After the events in "Trinity", Sheppard and McKay's relationship is strained at best. But is stranding them in a remote lighthouse with only Zelenka as referee going to help them work things out? And what about the dead scientist who used to own the place?
DISCLAIMER: The following story is a work of fanfiction, and as such is for fan enjoyment only. All recognizable characters/settings are the property of their respective owners. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is made.
Deus Ex Machina
By KerrAvon
17. Scooby-Doo, Where Are You?
Easing his aching body to the floor, Sheppard began crawling around, carefully palpating the stonework for defects or hidden catches. After a moment his hand touched an odd-feeling deformity, which produced a click when pressed at just the right angle.
"Got it!" he crowed. His battered body wasn't able to shift the released stone, so he fixed the two scientists with a chagrinned look and asked, "A little help here, please?"
"Certainly, Colonel." Radek was at his side immediately.
"Rodney…?" he asked threateningly.
"But my oxygen carrying capacity has been severely…" he caught Sheppard's glare, and hurriedly knelt on the floor next to the other two. "Help. Right. Glad to. Though you realize straining will make my headache worse."
Sheppard refused to rise to the bait. Between the three of them they managed to pry the trapdoor open enough for one person to slip through. It had probably been easier to move before it was damaged by the electric discharge. Sheppard closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'I'm not really in the best shape for this right now,' he thought. Given the recent sabotage and the hurricane raging outside, it was a good bet that the perpetrator was still down there, and he'd have to apprehend him.
He stared earnestly at the two scientists and asked sotto voce, "Do either of you have your weapon with you?"
Two wide-eyed faces indicated the negative. Radek suddenly brightened. "Mine is right upstairs," he whispered.
"Go get it."
Zelenka scrambled up the stairs, returning momentarily with a 9mm in his shaking hand. Noting the man's unease and unfamiliarity with the weapon, Sheppard wasn't sure whether to be relieved or concerned. He unholstered his own weapon, then quietly ordered, "Look, there's likely to be trouble; whoever this is has gone to a lot of trouble and clearly wants us dead. If anybody but me comes out of this hole, shoot first and ask questions later." He winced at the cliché as much as his aching chest, but it was precisely what he wanted them to do, so what the heck.
"Colonel, are you sure you're able to handle this? Maybe I should…" Zelenka had gotten protective; not a good survival skill for a combat-naive scientist. If, no when they got back to Atlantis, John was going to start including the man in the team practice sessions. But right now he had to keep him from doing something stupid and perhaps fatal - for both of them.
"Absolutely not," he interrupted. "This is my job; you frankly just don't have the training." He smiled wanly and offered, "But thanks for asking."
McKay was not volunteering to take his place, but interjected in a low tone, "Colonel, you are in no shape to take on an assassin. Now that we know where the tunnel is, why don't we just post a guard to keep him out of the building? I'm sure once the storm is over, he'll just leave however he got in. No confrontation, and everybody lives; it's win-win!"
Sheppard's face hardened. "That's just it," he growled. "He'll escape. I want to catch the S.O.B. after all he's done!"
Zelenka added his own quiet vote. "Rodney is right, Colonel. Why risk further injury or even death when we can control the situation bloodlessly?"
John replied grimly, "This is not up for discussion. Just stay up here and shoot anybody who isn't me." Snatching the flashlight from where he'd set it on the floor, he directed the beam into the cavity below. With the trapdoor partially open, he could see rough-hewn stone stairs leading into the inky blackness just beyond his light.
McKay, peering curiously over his shoulder, pointed off to the side. "There…what's that?" he asked insistently.
Pointing the flashlight in the indicated direction, he felt Rodney gasp and jump back. Sheppard had to admit that the skeleton had startled him as well, but he had long ago schooled himself not to react while in a combat situation. Like it or not, he was headed for a fight.
McKay and Zelenka both hovered as he examined the skeleton more thoroughly. The ancient bones had yellowed with age, partially crumbling to dust in several places, and were evidently the remains of two individuals, an adult and child with the orange oxidized remains of hair still adherent to the smaller skull. The larger was clutching the smaller protectively even in death, causing Sheppard to narrow his eyes. "I'll bet that's the lighthouse keeper and his son who died in the last culling. The books I found assumed they were taken by the Wraith."
Now was not the time for further speculation. Handing his light to McKay for a moment, he instructed, "Here - keep this directed on the stairs while I lower myself down."
He moved as quickly and quietly as his aching muscles would allow onto the uppermost step. Retrieving the flashlight from the scientist, he put a finger to his lips for silence, then directed his attention downwards, gun in his other hand pointed in the direction of the lightbeam. Straight-armed, scanning every direction, he slowly advanced down the stairs. He found himself in a small chamber containing a sturdy wooden table, two chairs, some foodstuffs and an array of tools and bits of machinery. He carefully kept his back to the wall as he circumnavigated the chamber, examining every corner as he progressed. The last thing he wanted was to be jumped from behind. His heart was making up for its earlier break, beating a staccato accompaniment to the storm he could hear outside, the echoes rumbling up what must be the tunnel to the sea. After ascertaining that there was no one in the hideaway itself, he slowly moved in that direction.
The end was rather anticlimactic. Near the cave entrance where the door was cracked open ever-so-slightly, a lone figure peered into the storm. He trained his gun unwaveringly on the man, then commanded, "Put your hands in the air where I can see them, and turn around."
The figure straightened in surprise, then carefully followed Sheppard's instructions upon hearing the menace in his voice. When he was fully facing the colonel, Sheppard smiled sardonically and commented, "Doctor Widget. Why am I so not surprised?"
"Because it was so obvious?" asked the Deltarran, unperturbed. "I have to admit that you and your friends are some of the luckiest people I've ever met. I just can't seem to make you die!"
"You're telling me you've been here the whole time?" Sheppard jerked his head back towards the manmade cave.
"Please," replied the scientist deprecatingly. "Give me some credit. Does that look comfortable to you?" He indicated the chamber, simultaneously dropping his arms slightly.
"Keep them up," instructed Sheppard, gesturing with his weapon. "Then where?"
"Oh, I rented a convenient spare room from a widow who lives next to the Constable's office", as he raised his hands again as instructed.
"So you werethe one watching me out that window," Sheppard realized. Another question occurred to him. "Was Constable Cleary in on this?"
Widget snorted. "Hardly. That idiot's as upright as they come. His only weakness is that he's a little too trusting of Government officials."
"Well, you two are going to get some real quality time together once this storm lets up. Now, move." Sheppard gestured with the barrel of his 9mm for the pudgy man to proceed back to the main chamber. They reached the foot of the stairs uneventfully when Widget suddenly came to a halt, turning around.
"Go on. Up the stairs," the colonel instructed, tightening his grip on the gun.
Widget pursed his lips speculatively, but didn't drop his hands. "No…I don't think so…"
An accented voice behind Sheppard drawled, "I'm sorry son, but I can't let you do that." Whirling back the way they'd come, he managed to barely duck the knife that had been about to plunge into his back. He caught a quick glimpse of a third man standing off to the side; balding, dour-faced, craggy nose, in his fifties…his arms were crossed in disapproval as he glared at the young man who was attacking the Atlantean soldier. All of this Sheppard assimilated in a heartbeat, then dismissed; the third man wasn't the immediate threat. Grabbing the knife-arm of his assailant, he pulled him forward and off-balance; apparently he was unused to victims that fought back. A quick chop to the back of his neck, and the young man was down for the count.
Widget, however, hadn't stood idly by. Sheppard stumbled when the ratchet impacted the back of his skull, causing him to see stars but not lose consciousness; the bureaucrat simply wasn't that strong. However, it gave the other man the tactical advantage, and in John's current state he couldn't be certain he'd win this fight.
"Hold it right there." The Colonel was both thrilled and irritated to hear Rodney's voice ringing through the room. 'Can't ANYONE follow orders?' flashed through his throbbing skull. McKay's shouted "I mean it!" was followed by a gunshot that ricocheted off the solid stone wall. Recovering his balance, Sheppard stood and directed his flashlight at the tableaux; Rodney, grim-faced, holding a gun on Widget, who still had the metal tool in his hand. At their feet was the still-unconscious second assailant, face-down on the floor.
Bringing his own weapon to bear, Sheppard ordered, "Drop it and put your hands back up." As the smarmy scientist hesitated, he added, "I won't ask twice."
Widget's face contorted in fury as he dropped the rod and raised his hands, a fact that delighted Sheppard because it meant that the man had run out of surprises. "OK, now where's the old guy?" he demanded.
"Who?" replied the Deltarran sullenly.
"The bald man who shouted the warning when your 'friend' attacked," Sheppard explained carefully through gritted teeth. "Have him come out where I can see him."
Widget snarled, "I don't know what you're talking about. One minute I've got your full attention, the next you're incapacitating my hired help. I figured you must have heard his clumsy footsteps."
Rodney shrugged, shining his light around the chamber in search of something. "Aha!" he chortled. Trusting Sheppard to guard the criminals, he tucked his weapon into his pocket and went to the wall next to the stairs to hit a switch.
Sheppard blinked at the sudden onslaught of light, but managed to keep his weapon trained steadily on the overweight Deltarran. "That's much better," commented McKay.
"Have Zelenka come down here with some rope. I want to get these guys secured."
Rodney went to the stairs and cupped his hands, "Hey, Radek! Bring rope down here so we can tie up the bad guys! Boris and Natasha here."
Within minutes the Czech was in the cave with two coils of rope and a knife. Sheppard, keeping both 'bad guys' in front of his weapon, instructed, "Bring those two chairs over here; we'll start with Widget."
Radek complied gleefully, and the angry murderer was soon securely bound. Sheppard kept his gun trained on the other man as he turned him over with the toe of his boot.
"Sgt. Sparso!" cried Radek, expressing the surprise they all felt.
"Get him into the other chair," ordered the colonel. Between the two of them, McKay and Zelenka managed the task. Seconds later the young deputy was secured as well. They finished just as he began to regain consciousness with a groan.
"Why don't you two check out the rest of this cave? I'd like to know where the deputy was hiding when I first came through, and I'm sure I saw another man down here."
"You're insane. There is no third man! Perhaps it really is better to be lucky than smart…" commented Widget ruefully.
Sheppard holstered his 9mm and checked the security of the ropes as the younger man became coherent enough to question. Satisfied with their bindings, he stood in front and began to interrogate his prisoners while Zelenka and McKay searched the room. His aching head, burning back and snapping sternum tempted him to throw out the Geneva Convention and Miranda to boot, but he managed some restraint. However, he admitted to himself that he'd like nothing better than to beat the story out of them then continue 'til they were bleeding senseless pulps.
"Why'd you do it, Sparso? I can understand Widget here," he snarled as he gestured disparagingly at the older man, "But why you?"
"Money, why'd you think?" the no-longer-shy youth snarled back. "The best prospect I have for a job in this stinking two-bit town, is 'Constable' when Cleary retires, and do you know how little that pays? How am I supposed to support a family on the salary of a 'public servant'?" He growled the last phrase.
"Not my problem," replied Sheppard grimly. "So while Cleary and I were out inspecting your handiwork at the cliff edge…"
"I was busy rigging a few other surprises while I 'guarded' the place." Sparso was gleeful at this revelation, almost daring Sheppard to react violently.
"And we would have gotten away with it if it wasn't for that stupid red-headed kid!" Widget spat.
Sheppard leaned casually against the tabletop, attempting to mask the fact that he was barely able to stand now that the adrenaline rush was ebbing. "Yeah, about that boy…who is he, anyway? Was he down here with you?"
"Nah, never seen him before and I hope I never see him again. He was a big problem. Kept drawing you away from our traps just in the nick of time." The bound scientist was not pleased.
"No one else here, Colonel," reported Rodney, eyeing his colleague seriously, then brightening, "But we found the secret compartment Sparso was hiding in just behind the stairs."
"No older man with a drawl?" The way everyone stared at him as if he'd lost his mind encouraged him to permanently drop that line of questioning. "All righty, then. Let's go upstairs. We'll send the Constable down once the weather clears."
Zelenka was hesitant. "Aren't you afraid they'll get loose?"
"Not really. We'll check on them from time to time, and this storm is likely to be over soon. They can't escape through the tunnel anyway. Their only way out is through me, and I'm in a mood for target practice." He silently added to himself that if he didn't lie down soon, he'd fall down, and he couldn't afford to show weakness just yet. His eyesight was narrowing to a tunnel, his chest burned with each breath, and his legs had turned to warm Jell-O.
He required the assistance of both Radek and Rodney just to make it up to the basement. Faced with the interminable effort of climbing another set of stairs, he just shook his head and suggested, "Maybe I'll just rest on those blankets in the lab for a minute…"
"Sounds good to me," grunted Rodney, making a show of how heavy Sheppard was.
"Nice," was the sarcastic reply, but having barely made it to the bedding, within seconds he was both supine and unconscious.
Zelenka retrieved more blankets to cover the slumbering form, then stared at him in dissatisfaction.
McKay, noticing this, sighed exasperatedly, "All right, Radek. What's wrong now?"
"I am…displeased…with the arrangements downstairs. It is too easy to escape."
"I'm sure the colonel knew what he was doing," objected Rodney, reluctant to return to the cave or have anything to do with the prisoners.
"The colonel was practically unconscious; I doubt seriously that he was…'thinking straight', as you put it."
"Well then, what do you propose?" snapped Rodney irritably.
A sly smile spread across Radek's visage. "Oh…I have a few ideas…"
TBC….