Sorry about the long delay on this chapter! It's been done for a while, but I've been having a lot of trouble logging in.
Also, I'm currently running a "fic-a-thon" over at my Livejournal to benefit a friend whose house burned down. If you're interested, my LJ username is "friendshipper" and all the details are there. This is probably going to slow down the pace of the rest of this story, but we're very close to the end now. I figure two more chapters and we're done.
Under a cold, piercing sun, the snow glittered in an unbroken white blanket, softening the sharp edges of the hills and valleys. The storm had moved on, leaving behind a still and starkly beautiful world.
Through the featureless white wilderness, three shapes moved -- bundled human figures toiling through the fresh snow. Their tracks wound behind them, in and out of the trees, up and down the hills. Occasionally the leader of the three would stop and stand dead-still for a minute, or bend over to stare at the snow before continuing.
The two shorter figures following him shared increasingly skeptical glances as the crisp winter morning wore on. Finally, Keisha Seavey found the nerve to say, very quietly, "Do you think he knows where he's going?"
Dr. Ling lifted her shoulders in a slight shrug under her parka.
"I know where I'm going," Ronon said without looking back at them. The lower edge of his leather coat trailed in the snow. He'd slapped a parka over it; the combination should have been ludicrous, especially since the sleeves of the parka didn't quite reach his wrists, but Ronon could probably manage to look threatening in a muumuu.
Keisha slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a slightly hysterical giggle at that thought. Getting a strange look from her superior officer, she murmured, "Sorry, ma'am," and snuck a quick, nervous look at Ronon. If he'd heard, he didn't say anything.
Over the last couple of hours, her deathly fear of Ronon had slowly faded into a sort of cautious truce, the way you could get used to having a poisonous snake at the bottom of your sleeping bag as long as you knew exactly where it was at all times and didn't make any sudden moves. She'd been scared stiff of him from the moment he showed up on the Daedalus, all muscles and hair, bristling with weapons that were not standard military issue and refusing to take orders from anybody but Sheppard ... who wasn't there. She'd hoped that he would leave with the jumpers, but the last one had taken off and Ronon had stayed behind.
Her worst fear had been realized when the storm had passed over and talk had turned to sending someone after their missing people. Like an absolute fool, she'd volunteered before realizing just what, exactly, this duty entailed. Now here she was with the absolute last person that she wanted to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with. At least the doctor was along too, which made it less likely that Ronon would ... oh, she wasn't sure what she was afraid he'd do. Kill and eat them? Sheppard wouldn't trust someone who'd do something like that, would he?
Ronon obviously had no desire at all to have anyone accompany him. Keisha didn't even know what Perry had said to talk him into it. He strode through the snow at a leg-breaking speed, showing no inclination to slow down for them; his opinion was obviously that if he must have an escort, he had no intention of changing his behavior on their behalf.
Their rate of speed, thankfully, had slowed once they crossed the river and Ronon began questing about for tracks. Keisha had no idea how he could be finding anything. Surely any signs of the people they sought would have been erased by the storm. But he seemed purposeful; with any hope, he wasn't simply pretending that he knew what he was doing.
Something moved among the trees off to her left. Keisha whirled, raising her gun, and out of the corner of her eye saw Ling doing likewise. Then she jumped nearly out of her skin at the deafening BOOM that rolled off the hills. Among the pines, a single mega-wolf pitched forward with a gigantic hole blown through its head.
Keisha and Ling turned, as one, to stare at Ronon, who was holstering his gun. "Never seen one of those before," he said, shrugged and went back to staring at the snow as if he knew what he was looking at.
They encountered two more of the giant wolves. Ronon killed both of them -- one, in fact, before either Keisha or Ling had even noticed it; all the warning they got was Ronon saying a calm voice, "Hold still", and then shooting over their heads up at one of the hills.
Keisha's only comfort was that Ling seemed to be nearly as freaked out as Keisha felt. The doctor just hid it better.
"Stop," Ronon said, and both women froze instantly in place. Two statues could not have been more still. He gave them a look, lips quirking up just a little bit at the corners, and then gestured ahead of them. The land rose sharply in a rough slope littered with boulders poking out of the snow. The mouth of a cave was just visible, and even Keisha could see that the snow around the cave mouth had been disturbed since it had fallen. "I think he's gone to ground."
"Caldwell?" Ling asked.
"Armstrong."
"We've been following Armstrong? I thought we'd been following Caldwell and McKay. And more to the point ..." Ling's eyes narrowed. "How do you know?"
"Can't be positive. But I'd know Sheppard or McKay's tracks anywhere. And if it's Caldwell alone, then McKay's dead and that ..." Ronon lifted his shoulders, just a little. "He's not," he said flatly. He drew out his gun; it made a faint whine as he powered it up. "Stay here."
"Now wait --" Ling began.
Ronon's dark eyes, which a minute ago had been wryly amused, fixed on Ling with an expression that made Keisha's stomach plunge. "Stay here," he repeated, and then started walking up the hill.
------
Once he was free of the women, Ronon moved swiftly and silently, using the boulders for cover. This was a dumb place to hide. Visibility down the hill wasn't too bad, but it was very easy to approach the cave unseen. Since no one had shot at him yet, he inferred that Armstrong wasn't even keeping a lookout.
He'd conceded Perry's point that he should take along the doctor and a third person who could go for help if need be. It was a good idea. But right here, right now, Ronon had his own role to play, and the Earth military had no part in it. Armstrong might be technically of Earth, but from all Ronon had heard, he'd chosen to play by Pegasus Galaxy rules. And that meant opening himself up to Pegasus Galaxy justice. Caldwell wouldn't like this. Hell, Sheppard probably wouldn't like this, though Ronon thought he'd understand. But Ronon really didn't care.
The minute Armstrong threw his lot in with the Wraith, he'd forfeited any right he may have had to the protection of the Earth government. And when he'd tried to kill Ronon's friends, he'd sealed his fate. Dennis Armstrong was not leaving this world alive.
Ronon flattened himself beside the cave mouth. This close, he could smell faint traces of wood smoke. He'd been able to catch whiffs of it for the last few hundreds yards of their trek through the snow, and that was what had really convinced him that it was Armstrong they were following. Of the other three possibilities, he seriously doubted if any of them, Sheppard included, had the wilderness skills to build a nearly smokeless fire -- and none of them would have tried, anyway. In this clear, cold weather, the smoke from a normal fire would have been visible for miles. The person he was tracking was deliberately trying to conceal himself, and that probably meant Armstrong.
He risked a quick peek around the corner into the cave. Mere feet away from him, he saw a hunched-over, parka-clad back and a scruff of blond hair, bent over a small fire.
Armstrong.
Ronon slipped around the corner and struck Armstrong across the back with the butt of his gun. He could have simply shot him where he stood, but there was information to be acquired first. Armstrong staggered away with a low cry and sprawled on the floor of the cave.
"Lieutenant Dennis Armstrong?"
Even if they don't intend to, most people respond automatically to their names, and Armstrong was no exception. His head came up immediately at the sound of Ronon's low, rough voice and he stared, crouched on the cave floor. "Who are you?" he demanded.
Ronon didn't answer, just took aim with careful precision and shot him in the right hand.
Armstrong screamed as the fine bones of his hand disintegrated. "What -- who -- why did you do that!" he yelled, scrambling backwards on his knees until he flattened himself against the cave wall. His arm curled against his chest, blood smearing across his coat; he made tiny sounds in his throat as he flattened himself against the wall.
Ronon nudged the P90 propped beside the fire with his foot. "Don't want to take any chances on getting shot. Now, got a question for you. Dr. McKay, Colonel Sheppard and Colonel Caldwell. Seen 'em?"
Armstrong swallowed. "Th--they're dead."
Ronon shot him in the leg. Armstrong screamed again. "I don't like that answer. Try again."
The only sound in the cave was Armstrong's hoarse panting. Finally he gasped out, "They were alive when I saw them last, okay? Not in great shape, but alive. Sheppard tied me up, but I got free and went to wait out the storm. I haven't seen them since. Okay?"
"Where'd you see 'em last?"
"Over there -- over the next ridge -- there's a valley. We fought. That's the last time I saw them, and they were alive then, I swear. Look, I'm bleeding here!"
"All three of them?"
"Yes! Jesus! I mean, Caldwell wasn't with them, but both the others -- I'm bleeding to death, for crying out loud! Caldwell was alive the last time I saw him, I swear! For God's sake, please help me."
"Rumor has it you're a Wraith worshipper. That true?"
Armstrong stared at him. "What's that got to do with anything? Who cares?"
"Are there any more on the Daedalus?"
"Look, I don't have to answer your --"
Ronon shot him in the other leg.
Armstrong screamed again. "All right! God! Please! No, there aren't! It was just me and Cora, and she's dead. Just us. I swear! No others! Look, I need medical help. Can you please --"
Those were the last words he ever uttered, because the next shot was aimed at his head, and it wasn't set to stun.
Ronon holstered the gun and turned away from the sprawled, wide-eyed body, feeling slightly ill. It'd been a while since he'd tortured a man to death. Hadn't liked it then, didn't like it now, no matter how deserving a man might be. Even Kel, who had probably deserved a slow painful death more than anyone Ronon had ever met -- he'd even given a quick death to Kel. He couldn't blame this one on Sheppard's bunch; he'd always been soft like that. Intimidation, maybe some judicious and non-permanent damage -- he was okay with that. Like with Kavanagh that one time. But real torture, real "you don't come back from this" torture ... it wasn't his thing.
Justice, he thought, and thought for a moment he might be ill, but it passed.
Emerging from the cave mouth into the sunshine, he discovered the two women halfway up the hill, guns drawn. "We heard shots!" Ling called. "Is Armstrong --?"
"He resisted." Which was more or less true, and certainly would have been true if he'd been given a chance to go for his gun. "He's dead."
Seavey heaved a sigh of relief and let her P90 dangle. Ling, however, was clearly no fool, judging from the frown on her face. "Traitor or not, Ronon, he's a member of the U.S. military."
"Yeah, now he's a dead one. But I know where to look for Sheppard, McKay and Caldwell. Let's go."
He shoved past them without waiting for a response. After a moment he heard Ling draw a deep, frustrated breath and her quick steps crunched after him. "Ronon? Ronon, damn it, stop!" Now he heard the soft clicks of a weapon being readied, and a sharp intake of breath from Seavey. Not terribly surprised, he looked over his shoulder at Ling, with her P90 pointed at him.
Ronon just stared at her for a moment. Seavey hovered in the background, looking terrified and very conflicted.
"I'm sorry," Ling said. "As an officer of the United States Air Force, I'm going to have to hold you in custody on suspicion of assault and murder of a USAF officer."
He continued to stare at her. Finally he said, "You think he didn't deserve it?"
Her body shuddered. "Ronon, it's not up to me to make that call. That's what it means to have laws. And I'm sworn to uphold those laws."
He raised a hand to take in the glittering horizon, the mountains scraping against the pale blue sky. "We're not on your world, Doctor. Your kind of justice doesn't follow you here."
Ling shook her head, her hands unwavering on the gun. "Ronon, I take my laws and my moral code with me wherever I go. I can't turn it off and on. What you're asking me to do --"
"You didn't do anything. I did."
"But you're asking me to look the other way."
Ronon met her eyes. "Didn't ask you to do anything. Still not asking you now. I'm going to find the rest of my team. You want to stop me, you'll need to shoot me."
With that, he turned and walked away, slogging steadily through the snow. He could feel Ling's P90 at his back, like a laser beam between his shoulder blades. He did not falter or slow, even when he heard the women's footsteps behind him as they hurried after him, catching up. Glancing down at Ling, he saw that she wasn't looking at him, instead staring off at the snow-covered hills with a dark and distant look in her eyes.
Ronon thought it likely that she would not forgive him. In truth, he didn't care. All guilt and blame for Armstrong's death was his to carry alone. Whether he'd offended the delicate sensibilities of offworlders was not his concern.
Looking back, he noticed a couple of mega-wolves sniffing around the entrance to the cave. This time, he let them alone.
------
TBC
