Time Immemorial

Chapter 10: Mouse Trap

July 16th
2021 Hours

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for one of the five soldiers to open fire, but the sound of gunfire never came. Instead, it was the sound a friend's voice that popped her eyes open.

"Dr. Weir?" a puzzled Peter Grodin questioned as he stepped into the hallway from a neighboring lab. He walked right between the opposing factions, his back to the Lacedami, oblivious to the invading force.

Elizabeth saw what was coming and her eyes widened. "Peter, get back inside—!"

His timing couldn't have been any worse. Elizabeth heard a sharp crackle of electricity, and the distinct whistle of a supersonic projectile. Just as one of the soldiers fired his weapon at her, the British scientist had unknowingly stepped between them, taking the bullet that was meant for her. Peter was struck near the collarbone. He dropped to the floor instantly, immobile.

Elizabeth covered her mouth with her hands, horrified. She couldn't tell if the technician was alive or dead. Taking a step toward her fallen colleague, Elizabeth felt John pulling her in the opposite direction. Though he, too, wanted to help their downed comrade, he knew they needed to take advantage of this momentary diversion if they were to escape. Otherwise they wouldn't live to help anyone at all, and Peter's sacrifice would have been for naught. And so for the first time in his life he ignored his inner voice that reminded him that he didn't leave his people behind and fled with Elizabeth in tow.

The Lacedami had their guns up and firing momentarily, but John and Elizabeth had already rounded a bend in the corridor and disappeared from sight. They were close, only several turns away from the gym, their rendezvous point with Teyla and Rodney. They ran hard, legs churning, before they suddenly both skidded to a stop, their arms a tangled mess as they fought to maintain their balance. Ahead was a patrol of two Lacedami. Jesus, how many of these guys are there? John thought.

They backpedaled and retraced their steps, ducking into a neighboring storage room before they came back upon their original pursuers once more. They gingerly sealed the door. Pulling out his life signs detector, the major watched tensely as the two groups of soldiers converged on their location from opposite directions. Thus far, their movements gave no indication that they knew where he and Elizabeth were hiding. If they could just lie low until the patrols passed….

In their earpieces, Carson's voice called out, wondering where either had gone. They had no choice but to leave his call unanswered for the time being.

They both looked around for anything that could be of use but found only cleaning supplies, spare batteries for various pieces of electronic equipment, and rolls of unused wiring. "Where's MacGyver when you need him…" John mumbled to himself.

Luckily, he stumbled across a pile of shop rags. He picked one at random and tied it tightly around his wounded upper arm, using his free hand and teeth to cinch both ends down tightly. Though he'd had worse injuries in the past, he didn't want to take any chances. The rag would have to serve as a makeshift tourniquet for the immediate future.

He looked to Elizabeth. She hadn't uttered a word since Grodin had fell, though she was holding herself together with grace only she could maintain. He knew her well enough to recognize that now was not the time to talk about the incident, but he needed to know that she was okay. He opened his mouth to ask her just that, but a shout from the outside hallway deterred him.

Both he and Elizabeth jumped at the sound. She would have involuntarily yelped, too, had John not quickly covered her mouth with his hand. He instinctually drew back to the far corner of the storage room, tugging Elizabeth with him. He held her close, both of them frozen. Elizabeth could feel his breath on her neck, his rapid, tense breathing matching her own. She was sure the sound of their hearts thumping would betray their position.

Their two pairs of eyes locked onto the door, wide with anxiety. Listening closely, they could hear the five men converse outside their door in muffled tones, deciding what to do next. A short silence followed, suggesting to Elizabeth that perhaps they had lost the Lacedami after all—

Two sets of electronic chirps emanated from the panel next to the door. The Lacedami were trying to open the door from the outside and were finding it locked. They tried it again. Not surprisingly, the action produced the same result. She didn't know how, but for whatever reason the soldiers had deduced their hiding place, and it appeared their suspicions had just been confirmed. The dialogue outside grew more pitched, agitated.

"I think it's time we got the hell out of Dodge," John said, abandoning the need for quietude.

"I think you're right," agreed Elizabeth nervously. "Given the Lademami's knowledge of the City, their possession of the ATA gene, and their clear anger management problem, I'd say it's only a matter of time before they hack through the door lock or bust their way in here."

"I'm thinking the latter is more of their style," he mused as he pushed a nearby storage cabinet away from a wall. He strained against its weight. "See any way out this place?" he called over to her between shoves.

"No," he heard her answer from somewhere over his shoulder. Unfortunately, he could also hear the Lacedami striking the door from the outside.

"Okay, well, if we can't find a way, we'll make one." Finally, using his back to push the final inches, he positioned the large cabinet in front of the door. It occupied most of the doorframe's width. Hopefully, when the door was inevitably opened, it would slow the advancing team somewhat.

John wanted nothing more than to slide to the floor and catch his breath, but a crashing noise from further inside the room snapped his head around. He saw Elizabeth, standing with a broomstick, looking up into a large rectangular hole in the ceiling. Below her on the ground laid a newly broken, large rectangular tile of matching dimensions. Though John hadn't previously noticed, several other identical tiles lined the ceiling above them.

"I think I just made our exit," Elizabeth turned and told him. The majority of the Atlantis' laboratories, power centers, and storage rooms were connected to one another via crawlspaces overhead and below, like a network of arteries. These arteries also connected to major corridors, to facilitate the flow of power and water, and to provide a means of access for technicians.

"That might just work," John said appreciatively. He looked upward and spotted a power conduit running through the crawlspace. It would be a tight fit, but they could make it. With the room's eight-foot-tall ceiling, though, they needed to find something to stand on.

Elizabeth turned quickly and found that she could see the ceiling of the outside hallway through the door. The Lacedami had found a way to pry the entrance door open several inches. They were now wrenching the door open the remainder of the way with their hands—

She gasped sharply as she unexpectedly found herself leaving the floor, traveling upward. A pair of strong hands gently but firmly gripped her waist and hoisted her up toward the crawlspace above. Once her upper body was inside, she pulled herself the rest of the way up and into the dark passage. She thanked her lucky stars she wasn't claustrophobic.

"I'm in!" she called back immediately, crawling several feet forward. "Hurry and get up here!"

Yeah, no kidding, John thought to himself dryly. The ever-pressing Lacedami had forced him to abandon his search for a step stool and simply lift Elizabeth into their escape route. He, however, had no one to lift him.

Looking back toward the door, he noted the soldiers had parted the door panels one full foot but seemed to be able to open it no further. But they had changed their tactic. Instead of trying to open the door fully and step around the cabinet, they were attempting to push the cabinet over and into the room from the outside, thereby freeing enough space to step through the narrow door gap.

Not seeing anything in the storage room that could be of use – no chairs, no tables, and no boxes – John did the only thing he could think of. He ran toward the opening in the ceiling and leapt upward. He closed the vertical distance in a split second and grasped the edge of the opening with his fingertips, hanging clumsily almost two feet above the floor.

Now came the hard part. With no mechanical leverage to aid him, he awkwardly began hoisting himself through the opening. First, he pulled his arms over the rim, then pushed up until his torso was through. His injured left arm screamed in protest, but he ignored it. Finally, he managed to raise a knee into the crawlspace and heave the rest of his body through.

"Go!" he yelled toward Elizabeth, who had stopped ahead of him to make sure he had made it safely. Below and behind, he could hear the mighty crash of the filing cabinet finally toppling over and the footsteps of the Lacedami entering the vacated storage room. True to form, the sound of gunfire followed, but the fleeing pair had already crawled beyond the room's perimeter. They were unreachable.

Elizabeth clambered on her hands and knees as fast as she possibly could, trusting her instincts to guide her around corners and in the general direction of the gym. John followed. She skirted over the wiring and conduits that lined the floor and ceiling of the narrow passage. After several minutes of crawling, she stopped over an access panel and looked through its grating below. She saw an empty hallway. Listening, she heard no one. A quick check of the life signs detector confirmed the supposition.

Less than a minute later, Elizabeth and John stood on the hallway floor below. They were only thirty seconds from the gym entrance. Striding quickly and quietly toward the door, John took the lead. A swift wave of the hand over the sensor and the door parted, revealing Rodney and Teyla inside.

Something's wrong, the major noted immediately, pulling up outside the door. Rodney and Teyla just stood there, in the middle of the floor mats, alone.

Having heard the door open, Rodney turned immediately toward John and Elizabeth. John saw several expressions written on his friend's face: horror, dismay, alarm. He even saw the scientist open his mouth to verbalize a warning, but before even a single word was uttered, Lacedami soldiers hiding against the near walls of the gym moved in on Teyla and Rodney.

John and Elizabeth spun, ready to run again, but were met with guns pointed in their faces at point blank range. Several armed soldiers positioned themselves in the hallway. They were now blocked in all directions.

John cursed under his breath. He had just led them both into a trap. Resignedly, he put up his hands in surrender, out of ideas and out of tricks.

"Do not feel so ashamed," said an approaching voice, seemingly able to read the pilot's mind. "Take solace in the fact the a number of other cultures' leaders have committed your same mistake: trusting us. It is a mistake you are only permitted once."

Elizabeth turned her head to catch sight of the owner of the voice, but she already knew it belonged to Commander Antigonos. She watched him smugly stroll down the hallway toward them, his armor making him look like a king on a newly conquered battlefield.

John, though, directed his attention toward Teyla and Rodney. He hadn't noticed before, but prior to being dangled out as bait they had been stripped of their vests, radios, and weapons. He watched as several soldiers forcibly pushed them toward the gym exit. Teyla struggled against her captors, but to no avail. As McKay passed him, the scientist wore an expression of regret, as if he harbored guilt at not being able to warn Atlantis' leaders about the trap in time.

John let his eyes trail the captive pair until they were out of sight.

"A question for you, Major Sheppard," Antigonos addressed.

"I'm a Capricorn, if you really must know," John replied dryly. He knew the joke would be lost on the foreigner.

"Do you have anything on your persons you wish to tell me about before we search you?"

"Nothing that belongs to you."

"Major," the commander continued, taking a step forward. "I thought you would have realized by now. As of this moment, this whole City belongs to me." He cast a viperous look at Elizabeth. "This whole City and everything in it."

Before Sheppard could react, two Lacedami relieved him of his flack jacket and weapons. Looking to his right, he saw Elizabeth being subjected to the same. Then, roughly, he was spun around and shoved toward the wall. As one soldier pinned his hands behind his back, another performed a standard pat-down procedure, not unlike the one his people had given to the Lacedami delegation only hours ago. After finding several miscellaneous, unimportant pieces of equipment in his pockets, he was held pressed against the wall.

"Nothing, sir," one of the men reported.

"Very well."

"Shall I search Dr. Weir?"

"No," contemplated the commander with a leer. "I think I will enjoy conducting her search myself."

At his words, John's head snapped round.

Elizabeth stood proudly in front of the commander, determined not to betray the nervousness she was feeling inside. Antigonos, though, seemed to correctly read her gallantry for what it was – a facade – and simply smiled patronizingly at her. He began the pat-down search. Starting from her wrists, he ran his hand along her arm with excruciating leisure, repeating the process on her opposite arm. Next he followed the contours of her back before tracing the shapes of her hips and waist.

Elizabeth remained stoic, eyes forward. She knew what this was: revenge. Antigonos had felt humiliated – outraged, even – when his people had been searched by the expedition's security detail; now he was returning the sentiment. There was nothing sexual about it. Antigonos was simply using her status as a female in an attempt to disgrace her and drive her into submission. She refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

John, however, could not remain as stoic. He didn't like it – not this psycho's motives, not his petty need for retribution, and not his choice of Elizabeth as the recipient of the punishment. As John watched the slime run his hands over her body, he bristled. Every fiber of his being yearned to tear Antigonos to pieces. He could feel the anger welling up inside of him. He fought to break free of his captors but they quickly shoved him back into the wall, pinning his arms even tighter against him.

The reaction didn't go unnoticed by Antigonos. The normally stolid commander allowed himself a small grin. He commenced the search on Dr. Weir's lower half, beginning at her left ankle and meticulously moving upwards. He drank in the silent, palpable tension he had generated.

John's eyes remained locked on the bastard's hand. He fought to keep his breathing under control while his pulse did its best impression of a drum line inside his skull. His stomach churned. He couldn't believe Elizabeth was allowing this ridiculous charade to continue. She might have been willing to sacrifice her dignity for the sake of the City, but John was having a hard time letting her.

Antigonos continued exploring a few more inches upward, still feigning a search, daring to push the limits of their patience. John watched him closely. That little fuck is enjoying this. The commander didn't stop as he slid his hand toward Elizabeth's inner thigh—

"All right," an incensed John finally demanded, wrenching with all his strength against his captors, "that's enough—"

Before he knew it, his head was being grabbed and slammed full force into the wall ahead of him. He heard a loud crunch – and then nothing. His sight left him briefly, replaced by black… then spinning stars. He knew he wasn't unconscious, however, as he still had the sensation of falling and hitting the floor. Hard.

"John!" he heard Elizabeth scream frantically, her voice muffled.

Blinking, his sight slowly returned with his hearing. From his position slumped on the floor, he spotted Elizabeth shove a Lacedami soldier aside in an attempt to reach him. She was apprehended immediately and backhanded brutally across the face. The blow sent her, too, sprawling to the ground.

Though he had not yet regained the entirety of his senses, Sheppard attempted to rush to her. He hobbled to his feet, but two soldiers instantly seized his shoulders and pinned him against the hallway wall. His cheek was held pressed against the cool metal, this time at gunpoint. The added threat didn't seem to faze him. He continued to struggle against the guards, trying to fight through the slowly receding tunnel vision and catch a glimpse of Elizabeth.

"I'm okay," he heard her call out from behind him as the situation calmed down. Whether her statement was somehow in response to his silent concern or simply a verbal means of reassuring herself, he didn't know. John felt his breathing slow.

"Dr. Weir," Antigonos stated, "you and your people are far from 'okay'." He looked almost sickened at the mental frailty of these people, a trait seemingly made up for with false optimism. It disgusted him. He strolled over so that he was standing face-to-face with Sheppard and looked him over. With an air of disapproval, he dismissed them. "Take them to the dining hall with the others," he ordered his men.

Next, John felt himself being pulled away from the wall and marched through the hallways. Elizabeth was being pushed alongside him.

"Are you okay?" she whispered from at his shoulder.

"I'm fine," he answered glumly. He suddenly became conscious of the pain emanating from his nose and reached up. Blood. While seeing the red stuff was always unnerving, what really pained him – the source of his distress – was the current state of Atlantis. He was still trying to wrap his head around it all. Other than the fact that a large party of aggressors had intruded upon the City, Atlantis' status still remained greatly unknown. Worse yet, the bigger mystery was the status of his people.

Two doors parted and Elizabeth and John were shoved into the mess hall before them. The large space was in pandemonium. Several dozen of Atlantis' personnel were being corralled together, while more were being herded in every minute from all of the room's entrances. Marines were relieved of weapons and forced to the edges of the room with the rest of the expedition crew.

Lacedami soldiers held several scientists at gunpoint, screaming at them to join their comrades along the wall. The scientists begged and pleaded for mercy, tears streaming down their faces. Their cries mixed with the soldiers' shouts and echoed through the space. An impatient soldier fired his weapon into the floor a mere foot from one of them. The warning was enough to jolt the trio into action. They ran to join their fellow scientists.

Opposite the cafeteria, two other Lacedami soldiers were pulling expedition members from line. Elizabeth watched as Dr. Bassire's legs were kicked out from under him. As one soldier held their victim down, the other took out his blade and carved something into the skin of his shoulder. His screams of pain echoed throughout the hall. The scientist was thrust back in line, and their next mark was chosen.

"Jesus Christ…" Elizabeth breathed, spinning round. Shouting, protests, and cries rang out. Her people were being shoved violently every which way as the Lacedami attempted to spread everyone against the perimeter walls. Most everyone shared the same terrified look. Several expedition members simply sat on the floor, downtrodden. She saw several faces fall as she and John were paraded in.

Atlantis' two leaders were steered against the cafeteria wall. They found themselves next to Teyla and Rodney, having been collected themselves only minutes earlier. McKay, still harboring guilt for having not been able to warn the pair of the recent ambush, instantly stepped forward to apologize.

"Elizabeth, I am so sorry—"

He was drowned out as the nearby expedition members, having seen their entrance, pounced on John and Elizabeth. The terrified mob pleaded for answers.

"Dr. Weir, who are these people—?"

"What do they want from us—?"

"I can't find Dr. Campbell! Has anyone seen Dr. Campbell—?"

"Everyone, listen up!" Elizabeth announced, shouting above the cacophony to the small cluster. "Everyone just needs to take a deep breath and calm down." She paused, forcing even the most reluctant of listeners to comply. She addressed the dozen or so pairs of anxious eyes looking to her. "Good. Now listen to me. In short, we don't have a lot of answers at the moment, but the most important thing for everyone to do—"

"Silence!" came a shout from a group of Lacedami soldiers running across the room in their direction. Elizabeth paired the voice to the largest combatant in the bunch. It was Straton, the hulking monster of a man. The other soldiers were quickly pointing their weapons in the faces of the expedition members.

Both Elizabeth and John instinctively moved to the front of the group, putting themselves between the opposing force and their people. They attempted to usher the civilians backwards, away from the threat. Elizabeth noted the laser-sharp, bloodthirsty looks on the warriors' faces, daring her people to give them an excuse to shoot. They reminded her of rabid dogs straining against their chains, just hoping their tethers would break.

"Easy…" Dr. Weir advised the soldiers.

"Be silent!" Straton ordered. He pressed the barrel of his weapon into Elizabeth's shoulder, causing her to step back. The other Lacedami followed suit, shouting and prodding the handful of Atlanteans back against the wall, spreading the cluster into a thin, more manageable group once again. The nervous scientists followed orders without hesitation, quickly retreating from the weapons pointed in their direction. Some stifled tears and squeals of fear.

Despite total compliance, the Lacedami team continued to push, enjoying the terror they were enacting on the Atlantis civilians. They ganged up on the most frightened, like a pack of wolves cornering the weakest of the herd. Elizabeth wouldn't stand for it.

"That's enough!" she shouted at Straton.

Her outburst caught the veteran soldier by surprise. Not knowing how to react to this strange display of resistance, he resolutely pressed his weapon into her shoulder harder, but she was tired of being bullied. Throwing caution to the wind, she smacked the gun away.

"I have had just about enough of this—"

"Do not speak, or—"

"I wasn't finished!" she yelled over him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw John trying to subtly get her attention, no doubt to caution her against what she was about to do. She ignored him and addressed the Lacedami. "Now you listen to me. We have complied with your people's ridiculous orders only to be treated poorly in return. Some of my people have been wounded – or worse. The least you can do is show us the respect of telling us what you want."

By now, the argument had caught the attention of a good portion of the captive expedition. As the Lacedami herded more accosted team members in, the already detained scientists and marines slowly became aware of the quarrel. A hush fell over the room.

The large soldier frowned. Never had he expected this smaller woman to stand firm against him. "Get back against the wall!"

Elizabeth hid a condescending smile but complied. "Straton, is it?" she asked calmly.

Antigonos' crony's eyes darted to his commander, looking for guidance. He found none. Antigonos himself was still in the center of the room, occupied with overseeing the collection and detention of the Atlanteans.

Arching an eyebrow, Atlantis' skilled negotiator said, "Don't tell me that your name is integral to the success of your mission."

He raised his chin. "Straton is my name."

"Straton," Elizabeth began slowly, patronizingly, "I understand this is difficult for you to grasp, but you are just a pawn in whatever scheme Antigonos is orchestrating. I don't know what he's plotting, but I know this much: he will not hesitate to throw you under the bus if his plan so calls for it. And I can also promise you this: when this is all over and your people are being dealt their just desserts, there will be no discrimination between kings and pawns. Now you either explain to me what exactly that scheme is, or bring me someone who can. Are we clear?"

Straton narrowed his eyes and seemed to ponder this audacious woman's brazen words. He couldn't fathom that she was attempting to order him about. He took orders from no one but his commander – especially not from a woman. His brow furrowed in anger. Straton pointed his rifle at the floor near Dr. Weir's feet and let loose with an extended burst, causing the Atlantean group to scatter several feet aside in terror. Elizabeth felt John grab her from behind and tug her back before the electrified rounds sizzled at her feet.

A taut silence fell over the entire room as the last round fell. The empty shells clanged to the ground, echoing throughout the cafeteria. Lacedami and expedition members alike froze, watching how the scene would next unfold.

"That is all the explanation you need," Straton spat at Elizabeth before returning toward his commander. His teammates retreated ten yards before taking up guard. Each soldier stood spaced equidistantly around the room, their shields and weapons pointed outward at the line of expedition members spread manageably along the mess hall walls. There were two dozen or so soldiers in total. Where the other forty were was anyone's guess.

Forcing herself to breathe, Elizabeth ran a shaking hand through her hair. Dammit, I thought I had that bastard on the ropes. I let my emotions get the better of me – stupid! She felt John standing at her shoulder. "Well that went well," she said, half expecting a quip or a reprimand from the pilot.

He seemed to evaluate her for a moment and sensed her fragility. "We'll get these guys," he encouraged. "We just have to figure out what they want first."

She looked up at him, almost shocked that he hadn't laid into her for her mistake, and nodded appreciatively.

John looked around and did a quick inventory of the expedition. He estimated nearly all of their people had been rounded up. Several still trickled in under armed escort. Most appeared to have fared well during the takeover, physically at least. Tears still streaked down several faces, while others embraced one another in concern. Several scientists sported bruises and cuts, but nothing worse.

Sheppard looked to his marines. They were a different story. They, too, were scattered around the room amongst the civilians. Antigonos was no idiot; he had deliberately disallowed the clustering of marines for fear they would organize a counterattack. Despite himself, John had to admire the tactic. Unlike the civilians, however, Atlantis' military contingent had not endured the invasion well. One held his arm gingerly, the limb undoubtedly broken. A motionless body – just unconscious, John hoped – had simply been drug in and thrown on the floor amongst the line of civilians. Another marine pressed his palm over his eye, blood trickling from the covered wound, face tight with pain. Several more cases of battered and bruised marines littered the cafeteria. And John knew why: because his men had refused to lie down during the invasion, staunchly doing their duty instead. And look what it got them, thought John with a grimace. He felt the guilt well up within him.

His eye caught a glimpse of Ford across the room. The young captain appeared to be in good physical condition. John signaled to him. Are you okay?

Aiden replied with the military-standard thumbs-up, but his grim face indicated differently. He also realized the harsh reality they all suddenly found themselves in.

Elizabeth, too, made eye contact with someone she recognized, but it wasn't an expedition member. Kyros, the young Lacedami she thought she had befriended on the mainland, stood next to Antigonos and Straton in the center of the room, undoubtedly discussing their next move. He seemed suddenly older. Kyros by chance looked her way. All she could do was simply stare blankly back, disappointed in the young man. She never would have thought that he of all people….

Kyros read the disappointment in her eyes and felt the disgrace redden his cheeks. He quickly broke the gaze, shamefaced.

As the commotion finally settled down, Elizabeth retreated to the wall behind her. She allowed herself to slide to the floor, letting out a deep breath on the way down. To her right sat several civilians, shakened into silence. Beyond them sat Teyla and Rodney. To her left a ways down was a marine. Through the tall, triangular mosaic window ahead of her, she could see the storm beginning to rear its ugly head. Lightning lit up the dark sky. Distant thunder rumbled the City's foundation.

John paced in front of her, still on edge. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying desperately to formulate a plan. After several minutes, however, he conceded – at least temporarily – and joined her on the floor. She hated herself for thinking it, but she selfishly realized that there was no one else in two galaxies she'd rather have next to her right then.

Atlantis' two leaders sat side-by-side, unmoving, looking straight ahead in silence at the bleak scene before them. John suddenly took Elizabeth's hand in his and gave it a squeeze of reassurance. We'll get through this, he wanted to say. I promise.

Within plain sight the entire expedition team, he let his hand rest on hers. She didn't pull away. And for the first time ever, they didn't care who saw.

TBC