FIVE

"Colonel Sheppard, come in."

"Go ahead, Major." John paused next to a large tree trunk and waved at Rodney to stop. After meeting up with the jumper, they'd regrouped and come up with a plan. Lorne and his team would head back to the village and question everyone who could stand, drag them out of bed if they had to, while John and Rodney caught up to Ronon.

"We've found someone," he paused. "Willing to aid us with some intel."

John smiled. "I thought you might. What do you have for me?"

"It appears there's a group of local bad boys who decided the farmer's life wasn't exciting enough. Rumor is they've set themselves up in a network of caves that runs through the hills, and they've made quite a name for themselves as guns for hire."

"Great." Sheppard muttered. "Mercenary farmers."

"Mercenary farmers?" Rodney echoed.

John waved his hand for silence. "Are they dangerous?"

Lorne paused before answering. "A couple of local merchants decided they were bad for business and tried to shut them down. It didn't go well. Our farmer's might be lacking in formal training, but they're heavily armed."

"Lovely." John cursed. "Trigger happy yokels. Anything else?"

"One more thing. No one has ever seen them leave through the Stargate. But they're always seen returning with their, ah, bounty. Apparently they've been known to disable the gate while they're running their missions."

"Okay, send someone to watch the gate. And see if you can get us a location on their hideout. In the mean time we'll catch up to Ronon. Sheppard out."

"You know," Rodney said, falling in behind John. "This would go much faster if you'd just have them pick us up and fly us to the top of this… this… mountain."

"Actually it's a foothill," John commented, "The mountain range is miles to the west. And Lorne's a little busy."

"Five minutes." Rodney pestered. "It's barely a five minute trip. Fly over, pick us up, drop us off, fly back. How hard could that be? I mean we could have been there by now. I'm not built for this kind of travel you know. All this uphill climbing-"

John increased his pace slightly, leaving Rodney far enough behind he could still hear him, but not hear him as clearly.

"Ronon, it's Sheppard." John said into his com.

Silence.

"Ronon, I know you can hear me."

"What?" Came the muffled growl.

John relayed the information from Lorne, and added in McKay's theory that the last place they'd seen the Doc's signal had been suspiciously close to the ancient ruins. "We'll meet you there in about fifteen minutes." A muttered complaint from Rodney. "Better make that twenty." John amended, rolling his eyes.

Ronon looked around the site of the ancient ruins. In one corner stood a tumbled mass of broken and crumbled walls. The building may have once been a small place of worship, the faint etchings of symbols and words were still visible around the archway which stood to the side of the clearing. The open area was well used, the grass matted and trampled with regular foot traffic.

Now that the storm passed, the moon had returned it's light to the surface of the planet allowing him to see clearly, but there was no way he'd be able to determine which of the hundreds of footprints through the clearing he should follow. Methodically, he'd started searching the perimeter, step by step; looking for recent signs of someone's passing. The rain cleaned away most clues, but further under the canopy of leaves the ground was reasonably dry.

There was still a chance he could pick up the trail.

He'd resolved himself to believing Jennifer had been taken by locals who'd decided their sick families were of more importance than those in the village. It was a scenario his mind was eager to hold. Worried family members wouldn't hurt her.

But mercenaries? Even local ones? Mercenaries were cold, dark, and killed for money. These were not the kind of people he wanted anywhere near her. She'd been gone too long. Too much could have already happened. She was a beautiful woman. Beautiful women didn't usually make it far unprotected. But she was useful. Being a doctor was of value. They'd want her unharmed if they planned to use her.

But use her for what? His mind ran through a dozen scenarios, each one adding more anger to his already fury fueled thoughts. At some point he'd noted the three sets of footprints turned into two, which had him very worried. The imprints for one set deepened enough to suggest one of her captors was now carrying her.

He shook his head with a low growl and continued his silent survey of the ground and lower branches.

If she was harmed in any way – any way – he would extract penance in blood.