Crossing the Line
Chapter Eleven
Rodney was inconsolable. He was sitting by Katie's bed, holding her hand, patting her hair; he had already said goodbye to Teyla and Ronon, cheerfully assuring them that they would be fine and he would be back soon with Sheppard - even though they were unconscious -- but now, with Katie, he seemed to be at an uncharacteristic loss for words.
Anna pushed back her chair from Lindsay Novak's bed to go to him, but paused as Sheppard, geared up and holding a P90, walked up to Rodney and, putting his hand on the scientist's shoulder, bent over and whispered something in his ear. Anna smiled and patted Lindsay's hand again. It was god that Rodney had Sheppard and his team to look out for him -- and it was good that he had someone to look out for.
It would have been nice if she had-- but no, that didn't matter right now. Anna reached down to pat Lindsay's forehead but froze when someone gripped her shoulder.
"Five minutes to leave, 'tenant." Lorne's voice was hoarse; he had probably been instructing the newest recruits in what, exactly, this mission's goals were. Generally that went well, but, if he was particularly impatient about something -- say, saving half the population of Atlantis -- his instruction methods involved more. . .well, not yelling, exactly, but loud speaking. Very loud speaking.
His hand tightened ever-so-slightly on her shoulder, and she swallowed hard past a sudden lump in her throat. She had no illusions as to the safety of this mission, and she wasn't going to delude herself into thinking that everyone was going to survive.
"You okay, 'tenant?"
Anna rested her forehead on her hand and nodded hurriedly. What was wrong with her? She was not going to start crying like a little girl. Things were going to be fine. Lorne was going to be fine. And after the mission, they would-
"What's wrong?" The major knelt beside her, took her hand away from her face, rubbed his thumb soothingly across her palm. "Not-"
"No," Anna laughed. "Not nanites, just - nerves, I guess." She dropped her other hand, put it on his; the worry in his eyes almost made her break down altogether. "I'm just scared I'll lose -- lose my friends." His hand was rough under hers. "You know after Rebecca I didn't really have anyone so close, and then I came here and then there were Katie and Radek and the team and. . ."
"And me." Lorne smiled at her and, almost unconsciously, started playing with her fingers. "You know, Lieu-" he paused. "Anna - if I were to-"
"Teams one and two, report to the gate room; our mission is a go."
Anna and Lorne took their hands off their earpieces at the same time. He scowled at her, and she had the feeling she was mirroring his expression. Normally she liked Sheppard, but right now she could quite happily-
"Tear him into a million pieces," Lorne muttered under his breath. He caught her eye. "We'll continue this conversation later, shall we, lieutenant?"
She nodded, reached down and grabbed the P90 lying by her chair. Patting Novak's forehead one more time, she stood up and jogged to catch up with Lorne. The time to settle this would come or it would not; for now she had to put it out of her mind the best she could and hope they both made it through the next six hours alive.
Being a CO might have its perks, but one of them was definitely not trudging with Sheppard at the front, breaking a path through the muddy brush land. It was tedious, boring, and every five minutes Sheppard would pause, turn around, and-
"Radek - how much time until the eclipse?"
-ask how much time they had left.
Had he mentioned it was tedious?
Foot after foot after foot of dense brush sunk deep into the mud stuck out to trip you; mosquito-like bugs attacked from every direction; and, which the lieutenant must particularly be enjoying, long, furry millipedes that crawled across the brush and leaped up your leg.
Then you had the natives - they called themselves the Muoran - who had been in a state of civil war the first time Sheppard and Rodney had visited. Of course, their weapons couldn't compare to the Atlanteans' -- until a rogue group of Genii had come to the planet with a stash of weapons they had stolen from Radim. Their bodies were found by the gate -- Beckett couldn't determine from what they had died -- but their weapons were suspiciously missing. They could only assume that the Genii had shown some of the Muoran how to use the weapons before fiddling around with the power source, turning it on, and subsequently dying. So the Muoran were still at war, but now both sides had guns, the better to kill each other with, and outsiders, as Sheppard had been told on his last visit, were no longer welcome.
Normally they would have had no problem staying away, but now it was quite literally a matter of life and death, and they had no time for any of Dr. Weir's peace delegations. They had less than six hours until the planet reached its point closest to Atlantis and eclipsed or something. It was then, Rodney and Radek surmised -- surmised? He had been spending too much time around Schweinsteigger -- that everyone affected on Atlantis would die, although more would probably go the closer it got. So every minute did count, now. He only hoped they could find the thing and turn it off fast enough.
Well, Sheppard was moving more slowly now, more cautiously, his P90 held at the ready. They must be getting close. Marcus stopped as Sheppard held up his fist. He heard the shuffling noises behind him, abruptly, fall silent. Good.
Noises to the right. Scurrying. Too big for a squirrel. Human? Maybe, but not likely. But still. Best not risk it; just in case.
Silence.
Marcus looked back and counted heads. Cadman, Riley, Danny, Rodney, Radek, Peters, Twellum, Gaitan and - ah yes, behind Riley - the lieutenant.
Good.
Well, so far, anyway. Now if only that would hold. . . And if only they it would hold enough for them to hurry up and get this done without anyone getting hurt . . . particularly the lieutenant. And if only no one back on Atlantis would-
"Radek - how much time've we got left?"
Two miles down, one left to go. Rodney said the only things not native to the planet had been some plants near a series of caves; made sense that the power source would be in one of them - the caves, not the plants. If only they could go faster. But no, they had to be quiet. Marcus stopped as Sheppard put his fist up again. Someone bumped into him from behind and snagged a sleeve on his pack.
Scuffling noises off in the distance. Bumping. Scraping. They faded, slowly.
It was several minutes before Sheppard took a deep breath and relaxed his grip on the P90.
"Quietly," he said as he stepped forward.
Whoever was holding onto his pack suddenly spasmed, and Marcus turned. Of course: Schweinsteigger was shaking a millipede off her pants. Marcus sighed and, bending down, swiped it off her thigh. She looked up at him with a smile, but her eyes widened as they focused on something behind him.
He felt rather than saw her swivel, bring up her gun, fling him to the ground, and shoot as several bullets ripped into a branch his head had been in front of moments earlier.
It was all over in a matter of seconds. Most of the team had perked up at the lieutenant's yell; Sheppard even got off a few shots. Before he knew it there were yells of 'clear' coming from his teammates and Schweinsteigger was reaching down her hand to help him up. Marcus took it and stood, wiping the mud off his BDUs.
"You all right?"
He smiled at her. "Yeah - thanks to you."
"I owed you." She grinned. "Or had you forgotten?"
He had just opened his mouth to retort when Sheppard came up to them.
"Y'all right?" he asked, his eyes darting between them.
Marcus nodded, and Sheppard turned his attention to Anna.
"Nice shooting there, lieutenant."
Anna grinned. "Thank you, sir." She paused and looked towards the brush where the shooters had been hidden. "Was there just the one, sir?"
"Yeah." Sheppard nodded and, as Anna walked off, turned to look at him. "Major, as soon as the area is clear we're going to make a run for it to the caves."
Marcus nodded and turned, but Sheppard put a hand on his shoulder. Marcus looked back at him.
"Sir?"
Sheppard glanced around to make sure no one was nearby. "Rodney scanned the forest - there are life signs nearby, concentrated half a mile east - right near the caves. We won't stand a chance of just getting there, not to mention making it out, even if we make a run for it."
He stopped; Marcus said nothing, just let him mull things over. Sheppard was clearly trying to think of another way out - anyone could see that. What was it that he-
"We don't stand a chance - unless someone distracts them. The thing is, whoever does it - they probably won't come back." He paused. "Major, I know the route to the caves and back; I can get Radek there even if Rodney is shot. However, I'm not going to order you to do anything. I know you've done missions like this before, but if you don't think you-"
"There's a USB drive on my desk with several word documents saved on them. If - well, I would appreciate it if you printed them out if you get back. There are envelopes in my desk drawer - they're already addressed."
"I'll take care of it myself." Sheppard clapped him on the back. "Major Lorne, it's been an honor."
"Likewise, sir." Lorne nodded and walked back to his pack. He stopped and looked back. Anna was back now, talking with Sheppard; the one regret of his life. If only - but no. He had better get going, now. No sense wasting time. He stooped to pick up his gear. Now if he could just get away quietly - yeah, right now when they were all distracted by Rodney. . . He edged away slowly, walking into the trees.
Well then. Half a mile east it was. Agh, he hated brush. Now there was one thing he wouldn't miss. And those centipedes. Those trees were good, though. He could use them for cover - hide behind one, shoot who he could. With luck he could find a pocket to hit and get the rest to chase him. With enough ammo and a little bit of luck he could hold them off long enough for Rodney to fix the doohickey. More than that was up to whatever luck kept coming to the rescue of Team Sheppard. Righto then, there should be a bit more to go before he hit the first pack of Muoran; now if he could just-
"You know, your one-man distraction might help, but it would prove so more effective if you had, say, a sniper to help you out."
No. No, no no no no. Marcus stopped, forced himself to breath deeply, and turned around. Anna stood, facing him, her P90 in one hand, the rifle she had insisted on bringing along strapped to her back.
"Fortunately the colonel agreed with me." She smiled and took a few steps towards him. "Lucky I saw you walking off after you forgot to tell me you were leaving."
"No."
She stopped.
"You're not coming with me - it's too dangerous; it's practically a suicide mission, for crying out loud, and you know it. Anyone who goes out there isn't coming back, and there is no way in hell I am bringing you with me." He knew she wasn't listening to him, not really, but he said it anyway. He didn't care if he had to tie her up and- and what, then? He couldn't take her back to Sheppard; she would have to go herself, and he knew she wasn't going to do that. He couldn't take her back to the gate - he could order her to go, but he knew she would disregard it. Tying her up and leaving her behind would do nothing more than assure her death when she was found - by the Muoran or by a wild animal; no, he had to convince her - if not, then all that would happen was that she would die. Damnit, why hadn't he convinced Sheppard she shouldn't come on the mission? As soon as they realized what planet this was, that they could only take at most two teams, he should have said something. Going in with this few people on a planet where pretty much everyone was your enemy - it was insane. Everybody coming knew it would probably be their last mission. He would have said something, but. . . There was always that hope, going out on a mission with your team. It was as if, at least on Atlantis, if you went out with your team your chances of living through it skyrocketed. If there were someone to back you up, someone who cared about you, there was the chance, the spark of hope that you could make it through this impossible situation alive. And coming with Sheppard? The man had a saint's luck; after that business with the Aurora and the wraith cruiser - the man had come back from the dead, almost - the common gossip had become that Sheppard and his team were indestructible. But even indestructible couldn't save you on a mission like this; there was luck, yeah, and then there were miracles - and miracles didn't happen all that often, even for Sheppard.
"No offense, major, but this entire mission -- you did notice we weren't meant to come back? A planetful of them versus - what - a dozen of us? We're probably all going to die anyway, and when all is said and done I'd rather do it with you than with anybody else on this planet."
Marcus smiled, crookedly. He walked over, let his P90 dangle by its strap, and, putting his chin on tope of her head, wrapped his arms around her. She was right. Either way, whether she went with him or Sheppard, they only had an hour or less to live; what better way to spend it than with her?
It was a minute or two before he let her go; she pulled back, her eyes shining. She sniffled suspiciously as she fumbled with her weapons strap. He reached forward, untangled it for her. She looked up at him; he stretched out his hand, brushed her hair out of her face, cupped her chin.
"Well then," she said, as the moment stretched on, "we'd better get going - else we won't be much good for the home team, will we?"
She turned and started walking off; he followed her, but stopped and tapped her on the shoulder.
"Lieutenant - Anna - before we go, I just want you to know that I- you're-"
Anna patted his hand. "I know." She smiled. "Like I said - I'd rather be here with you than with anybody else."
Marcus grinned; he felt, cliché as it might seem, as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He was going to spend the rest of his life with her, short as it might be, and he couldn't think of any other way he would rather have it.
Anna had borrowed one of Rodney's life-sign scanners when she was speaking to Sheppard. Good thing, too, or they would have been virtually blind. Smart girl, that one.
Right now, by his estimates, they were one mile east of the caves; they had spotted a group of six Muoran sitting around a campfire, crawled up near them and hidden behind some brush. Too bad they couldn't afford to wait; there was a group of five more heading their way, and it would be so much more effective if they could hit all eleven of them at once. But no, Sheppard's group was getting pretty close to the caves, so it had to be now or never.
Looking down at Anna, he tapped her on the shoulder and gestured up at a tree nearby. She got his drift immediately, as he knew she would; she was nothing if not intelligent. She reached up, stretched, and could barely brush her fingers against the lowest branch. He couldn't stifle a slight snicker as he bent down, cupped his hands, and busted her up into the tree. She glared at him, but he could tell she didn't mind. Hey, they only had a couple of hours at the most to live; if he couldn't tease her about her height now, well. . .
All thoughts of teasing her flew out of his mind as she set herself up, sprawled uncomfortably in the tree, her body tense, her finger held centimeters away from the trigger, the scope up to her eye. She did have shortcomings as an airman - not the least of which were her temper and her problems in hand-to-hand with larger oponents, and her geeking out was enough to drive him insane sometimes (although it was really cute until she got to the 'insane' point), but give her a rifle and a target and the result was a thing of beauty. The way she held the rifle, the way she tensed her shoulders so it's butt sat against them just so, the way she bit her lip in anticipation - the way she hit the target, every single time: it was enough to make a pacifist join the air force, just to be near her when she practiced at the firing range.
He looked through his binoculars at the men as she lined up her target. They had both been adamant about only firing warning shots - now what was she-
He flinched as a shot rang out; in the camp, a man who was raising a mug to his lips blinked, then yelled, as it broke apart in his hands. A couple of seconds later, a clay jug sitting by one of the tents exploded; directly after that, the pot hanging over the fire just dropped: whatever was in it spilled everywhere, dousing the fire and splashing on the men.
He grinned at that one but didn't himself linger, instead stepping back to the tree to help her down. She slid off, grabbed his hand, stepped onto his shoulder and jumped down.
As soon as she got her balance he grabbed his P90 and started running. She followed; neither of them took particular care to be quiet - that was the whole point of the thing after all, wasn't it? He could hear the Muoran following; he could see it on the life-sign scanner - there were about a dozen of them, now. He could only hope they were using the Genii's radios - if they just - okay, there it was. Two - no, three - of them were breaking off from the main group in Sheppard's way. Good, for a start. Now if he could just figure out a way to get the rest of them to- uh-oh.
The footsteps behind him were fading. Not good - they were losing them. Quick - had had to do something, think of something, bring them back, make them chase him. He dug his fingers through his pack, finding nothing until his eyes settled on Anna's vest. Quickly he snatched the grenade off it; she moved to cover him reflexively. Marcus dodged behind a tree, yanked the pin off, and threw it as far east as he could.
The explosion had the desired result: all but two of the little dots onscreen blipped their way towards the noise. Marcus waited, Anna hovering over his shoulder, until Sheppard's team reached the caves before moving. Distract - check. Now he just had to figure out a way to keep them occupied long enough for Rodney and Radek to shut the thing off.
Things like this, he mused as he and Anna set off at a quick jog, were far easier said than done.
It wasn't -- ooh, close one -- perhaps -- ouch -- the smartest -- Hey! That son of a -
"'Tenant!"
Ah good, she ducked in-
-time.
Had to get up. Had to get up.
Ouch.
What was it with these people and kicking you when you were down? Honestly, they were-
Ha! Well, she wouldn't be kicking anyone for a while now, would she? Served her right.
Now, who was next?
Hmm, there didn't seem to be anyone arou-
Marcus grunted as someone tackled him from behind. Not fair. He grabbed onto the brush in front of him and grabbed himself forward, kicking whoever was grabbing onto/punching him. This was rewarded by a sickening crunching sound; Marcus took that as a good sign, especially considering it didn't come from him. Hmm. He pulled himself up and surveyed his handiwork: broken nose - perfect - the guy probably had a concussion too; he'd be out for a while.
Looking around at the brush, at the bodies lying there, he reminded himself to thank Ronan on the off chance he ever saw the Satedan again. The people here were all about Ronan's size, and strong. Without Ronan's training, he and Anna never would have made it past the five-minute mark. As it was, though, they had taken out eight - count 'em, eight! - Muoran after their ammo had run out. Anna had gone insane, really, doing things he never thought she could have. Maybe she couldn't have taken down Ronan - all right, or even Teyla - but she would have given Sheppard - and, to tell the truth, himself - a run for his money. Speaking of Anna, where was she, anyway? She'd been fighting one of the Muoran and run off that way - back into the woods. He should go and-
"Nicely done, sir, if you don't mind my saying."
Right on time. She looked all right, barring a black eye and some cuts on her arm. Then again, if how he felt was any indication, those few cuts and bruises were probably hiding a cracked rib or two - and a whole lot of aches. But now, he mused, was probably not a good time to broach the subject. Not that it mattered, anyway, not really.
He leaned back against a tree stump and looked at her. She was staring down at the life-sign scanner - you know, if he ever saw Rodney again, in this life or the next, he had to remember to ask if those things had an actual name; whatever it was, Anna was fiddling with it and looking worried. That couldn't be good.
"Two groups moving towards the caves. She looked up and sighed. "Sheppard and the team are still inside."
Definitely not good. "How long've we got?"
She clicked a few buttons and muttered something, ostensibly converting miles into minutes.
"Twenty-one, give or take two." She tapped her foot impatiently. "Either way, it would be best to-"
"-hit them when they're at least five minutes away from the cave to avoid drawing them to it, I know." Marcus took a closer look at her, pulled his pack in front of him and rummaged through it as he spoke, looking for some bandages. "Here, give me your arm."
"But you'll-"
"-be able to think better when I know you're not going to pass out from blood loss? I know that too." He waited for a second. "Arm. Now."
Her eyes glinted, and he knew that if he weren't her CO he would have been on the receiving end of her anger. As it was, however, she contented herself with biting her lip and holding out her arm; the cuts -- gashes, rather -- were deeper than he would have thought.
"They have knives, apparently, she said in explanation at his raised eyebrow. "Fortunately, they don't seem to be able to use them very well."
Marcus snorted. He sincerely doubted that was all there was to the story, but further examination of the lieutenant -- of the lieutenant's injuries, to be more precise (unfortuna - never mind.) - would have to wait until later. Well, if there was a later. Which, considering she and he were about to, all ready weakened, run a mile and a half and attack ten or eleven alert, decently-trained soldiers while carrying only whatever guns and ammo they could scrounge from the ones they had, well-supplied and with surprise on their side, barely managed to take down, was - well, not to be a pessimist here, but it was highly unlikely; of course, he had known before leaving Atlantis that he probably wouldn't go back, but coming this far without quite kicking it had given him a bit of hope. . .
But either way, they should probably be leaving. Carefully he finished tying up the bandages, tucking a corner in to hold it and patting Anna's arm absentmindedly.
"Right then," he muttered as he scrunched down among the unconscious Muoran to look for weapons. "We'll hit them at the place by the caves - the one with the tree. They should pass by there; we'll make it before they do, take some of them out with - I think I've still got my stunner in my pack, you? Good, then jump them, I suppose. It should be close enough to alert the team, but not close enough that they'll get suspicious of the caves."
Anna nodded and Marcus turned back to one of the weapons he'd grabbed; well, he thought as he loaded it, perhaps they would be dead in a half hour, but there was no way on earth they weren't going to go quietly.
It had started raining while they were running. Not too hard, really, just enough to get you decently soaked. It was perfect porch weather. He could just see it: him, Anna, some nice cups of cocoa, one of those swinging bench things, just sitting there and listening to the rain come down - that would be perfect. Lying in an uncomfortable tree with many weapons waiting for the people who were probably going to kill you? It would do in a pinch.
He looked at the life-scanner: about a minute left before showtime. Twisting his head, he put his hand on Anna's back and grinned at her.
"It's been an honor serving with you, lieutenant."
She grinned back, blinked as the rain got in her eyes.
"Likewise, sir." She turned back to the watch and sighed. "I wish I could have taken you to a football match - real football, that is. Never meant to be, I guess."
He snickered. "What was the score on our football debates, then? Me, zero, you - what? Eighteen? Nineteen?" He breathed in; the smell of rain reminded him of home. "I would have liked to have taken you to meet my parents; I think they would've liked you. Oh, and my sister - she would have gone crazy over you, if I'm not much mistaken."
She laughed quietly, the sound muffled by the rain. "Well, on the bright side, you'll--"
She stopped. Softly swearing and cutting at the brush in front of him with a long knife, a Muoran soldier walked into the clearing. He paused, scanned the area carefully, then turned and gestured with his hand. As the rest of the group walked into view, Marcus readied his stunner, took careful aim, and fired.
They stunned a good half of the Muoran before they were spotted. Fortunately by that time there were a couple standing too close to the tree, and as soon as the Muoran opened fire Marcus grabbed his weapons and flung himself on top of them.
It was not, perhaps, the most complex and intelligent battle tactic he had ever used, but it was effective, to an extent. Because now, although he had to use a tree as a shield, which wouldn't work for long, not only he had knocked out another one them and was currently overpowering another, he had given the lieutenant - given Anna - plenty of time to slide down the other side of the tree, creep around the brushes, and fire at them from a different angle.
It was too simple. Too silly. Too reliant on his hand-to-hand techniques and her sniping abilities. In short, it was doomed from the start and wouldn't hold a chance for long. But that was the beauty of the thing: it didn't have to work; it was never meant to work. All it needed to do was make enough noise for Sheppard to take notice of, and that had been done by the Muoran themselves once the first guy was stunned.
Of course, once he flung himself out of the tree he didn't really have time to think of that.
There were only four of them left, now. It was amazing, incredible, completely unbelievable - but there it was. Only four of them, and now Schweinsteigger was fighting hand-to-hand too, and it was raining harder but there was -
-make that three of them.
Apparently only two or three of the whole group had been carrying Genii weapons; the rest were either unarmed or carrying knives.
Not to say that knives couldn't be used effectively - the cuts on his shoulder and forearm certainly attested to their effectiveness. Just that Ronon, bless him, had been particularly emphatic about teaching how to fight, unarmed, against a man with knives.
So now there were two against him and one fighting Anna; one of the ones on him slunk away - strange, but hey - and, while the other guy was watching his buddy desert him, Marcus decked him with a hard right hook.
So now all that was left was to go help Anna and maybe, just maybe, they might see the night out and-
The man she was fighting got one arm loose from her hold, grabbed his weapon and slammed it across her head. She fell, heavily, to the ground, and the soldier aimed his weapon at her head and-
-he never had a chance; the bullet hit him quite cleanly - he probably never felt a thing. Marcus dropped the gun he'd grabbed and ran over to her. Looked like she had a stab wound on her shoulder, too, and he couldn't tell what her head wound was like, not in this light. He leant over and felt her neck; good, she still had a pulse. Quickly he stood and picked her up. He started walking away from the clearing, towards the cave, towards Radek, who had helped out in the army hospitals in his stint in the then-Czechoslovakian army; he was no Beckett, mind you, but he could do something at least.
There was something nagging at him, something - ah, yes, he was leaving himself open for attack from behind. But there wasn't anyone left to attack him - well, except-
Marcus jerked to a stop as he heard the crackle of gunfire. Still holding her he fell to his knees, three sharp stabs of pain blossoming in his stomach and shoulder.
No one left except the guy that had run away.
Anna dropped to the ground. Why weren't his arms working? They-
He fell partly on top of her. His head was pillowed on her stomach; he could feel her breathing slowly, ever so slowly. Where had the soldier run off to now? Probably run away again, though anyone worth his salt would have finished him and Anna off before scurrying off. Not that he was complaining.
He lay there quietly, staring at the stars, raindrops dripping into his eyes. Good; Anna was still unconscious. Had she been hit in the side she might have woken, might have suffered, but fortunately his body had stopped the bullets. For her, at least, death would be painless, a mere matter of bleeding out quietly. At least he had been able to do that much for her.
They said your life was supposed to flash before your eyes right before you died. Funny, all he saw was Schweinsteigger, her eyes glinting, curled up on a sofa in her duck-print pajamas, laughing at some joke he had made. She had looked a mess that night, when, suffering from insomnia they had both ended up watching Monty Python, a complete and utter disheveled, caffeine-addicted, sleep-deprived mess, and he knew he had never loved anyone as much as he did her. He never had and he never would again.
He would have liked to live some more years, yeah. But this, going knowing you'd accomplished something, going with the person you loved most in the world - galaxy - in your mind, lying next to you, going like this, he thought as his breath started to come less easily and the image of Anna in his mind started fading to black, well, it was a good way to die.