Here is the next part -
John
John Sheppard munched a spoonful of Cheerios and considered his options. He missed Cheerios while he was away in the Pegasus Galaxy; there were definitely some benefits to being back. Unfortunately, there were also a lot of drawbacks.
The dinner rush had come and gone in the mess hall. There were still a few people here and there having coffee and pie, but they were gradually drifting out to their offices, labs or beds. As far as John was concerned, however, it was morning. They'd been forced to stay overnight on their mission to PX463 and had headed back to the Stargate in the morning. Of course it was night time here at Stargate Command, so while everyone else was going to sleep, John was wide awake.
Which is why he was considering his options. He was staying on the base at the moment, so his choices were limited. He could try and sleep or go to his office and write up the mission report, wouldn't that be interesting? – a totally yawn-worthy mission, checking out a planet to see whether the Ori were preaching there. The lead checked out, but they were under orders not to engage the enemy and had to camp overnight till the coast was clear and they could dial home.
John decided on the office, he'd write the report, maybe play a game of spider solitaire or something and try to get at least a couple of hours of sleep so that he could face the next day. And jetlaggers thought they had it bad. They should try gatelag.
John finished off his Cheerios and headed to his office. He was surprised he had scored such a large office; it was as big as the General's. It was certainly good to have especially since he was living on base at the moment. He hadn't had much of an office in Atlantis, in fact he hardly used it. Here he was a little fish in a big pond but ended up with a large office. Funny how life worked, especially in the military.
He was surprised how much he missed being top dog. He wouldn't have thought he would really want or be into having that much responsibility. After all he was quite happy flying helicopters in Antarctica. But to be honest, it grew on him. He had done much more than he'd ever thought he'd been capable of while he had been at Atlantis, and he had enjoyed it – well, most of it.
General Landry was being very nice to him, but he wasn't sure how he felt about being under someone else's direct command again. Not that he had a choice.
John entered his office and went and sat down at his desk. Right, time to sort out this mission report. He spotted his cell phone on the desk and turned it back on. He was about to start the report when the phone beeped to let him know he had a message. He picked up the phone and punched in the numbers to listen to the message.
'Sheppard, it's Rodney. Please call me as soon as you can. Some idiot has started a campaign to get me out of the SGC. Apparently they think they will achieve this by sending me childish threatening letters and destroying my property. I'm not really sure what to do or whom I should talk to about this. Call me as soon as you can.'
John looked at his watch and frowned. It was 2320. The message had been left this afternoon. Okay, so it probably wasn't urgent anymore, and it was a bit late to call Rodney. However, it didn't feel right to do nothing.
He stood up. It was unlikely the General would be around, but someone else might know what was going on. Rodney sounded worried and upset. Maybe he'd tried to contact the General.
On his way to the General's office, John thought about what Rodney had said in his message. Was this a matter of Rodney overreacting about something? Maybe someone had been less than friendly to Rodney and Rodney had put two and two together and ended up with 3.14159. On second thoughts, Rodney might sometimes stretch the truth, but it was still the truth nevertheless.
As expected the General's office was deserted. John's next port of call was the control room. He saw a major he recognised and went over to him. It was a long shot, but worth a try.
"Hey, Norton."
Sir," Norton replied crisply.
"I'm wondering if you heard anything about some trouble Doctor McKay is having?"
"Yes, sir. Major Farrell is in charge of that investigation here at the SGC."
John was surprised. "Do you know anything more about it?"
"No, sir, my orders are to contact Major Farrell if required while I am on duty. He's at home at the moment. Do you need me to contact him for you, sir?"
"No, Major, thank you. Have a good night."
"Thank you, sir."
John left the control room and headed back to his office. The whole thing was probably nothing. Mind you, the General had seen it fit to appoint a Major in charge of the investigation, so it probably wasn't nothing. Damn it, he was going to call Rodney. Hopefully, if he was asleep he had the phone off.
John rang Rodney's cell phone number, he heard it ring a few times, then Rodney's cell answering service picked it up.
"McKay, its Sheppard here. I only arrived back at the SGC tonight so only just got your message, give me a call to let me know what is going on."
John hung up. Now what? He looked at his watch again, 0010. As much as he kept telling himself that this whole thing was nothing – his spidey sense was tingling.
He picked up the phone on his desk. There were a few advantages to rank, and he was going to use one now. He dialled the switchboard and asked to be put though to Major Farrell. A few moments later and he was talking to a very sleepy sounding major.
"Sorry if I woke you, Major," said John, aware that he didn't sound particularly sorry.
"No problem, sir. What can I do for you?"
"I'm calling about Doctor McKay. Do you know what is going on? I've been told that you are leading the investigation."
If Farrell was annoyed at being called in the middle of the night he was enough of a military man not to show it. "Yes, sir, I am, at least here at the SGC. Doctor Jacobson is in charge of looking into the matter at Area 51."
John frowned. "Area 51? Someone from Area 51 is causing McKay problems?"
"That's what the evidence would suggest. Yes, sir."
"What evidence is that?"
Farrell hesitated.
Time to pull rank. "I have full clearance, Major, and I am Doctor McKay's friend. If you want me to drag General Landry out of bed so he can call you and tell you to talk to me then that can be arranged."
Farrell sounded nervous as he made a little sound clearing his throat.
"No, sir, that won't be necessary."
"Good, now fill me in."
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Rodney
Rodney spent a long time staring into the dark, repeating the same mantra in his head over and over again. 'Wide open fields, wide open fields, wide open fields,' trying to calm the building panic in his mind.
He was terrified. Trapped not only in this tiny space but also within his own body. He couldn't move, despite the ache in his muscles from holding the same position for too long. He wanted to move so badly, his body screaming at him, but his limbs refused to obey.
Jacobson had obviously lifted this charming party drug from the research labs at Area 51. When Rodney was in charge he was going to have a very serious talk about the security measures in the facility. If he ever got there, that is.
At the moment Rodney would settle for being able to move. It felt as though he was paralysed, except he could feel his body – his increasingly sore body - just not move it. The only thing he could do, was think, and think he did. His mind was racing.
He couldn't quite believe what was happening. Why would Jacobson hate him so much that he would do this to him? He knew he wasn't exactly a poster boy for congeniality but was he so bad that he deserved this? Who would threaten and try to terrorize someone because they were going to take their job? Jacobson was only acting head, he knew he wasn't staying in the job. Or maybe he had hoped he would. But, really, destroying a person's personal possessions, spray painting threats on his wall, drugging and kidnapping him? Rodney felt as though he had inadvertently walked into some weird psycho horror movie. Jacobson obviously had some pretty major mental health issues, the man was a psychopathic loon. Rodney had to hand it to him though. He'd sure fooled people into thinking he wasn't. Rodney had liked the man. Heck, even General Landry had talked warmly about the guy. It was the height of irony that they had charged the psycho with the job of finding the psycho. Perfect. Just perfect.
Would people know he had been kidnapped? When would they realize he was missing? Who was supposed to contact him tomorrow? Rodney had heard his cell ring earlier. If he could only move, maybe he could get his hands free and reach the phone. Maybe someone like the General would call him and then be concerned when he couldn't get hold of him. Sheppard, maybe Sheppard would call. He wondered why Sheppard hadn't returned his call. Busy probably. But he would have thought his message warranted a call. Maybe he hadn't checked his messages on his cell? He was bound to call if he checked his messages, right? When would that be? Maybe that had been Sheppard calling earlier?
Damn it, rescue wasn't coming any time soon.
Rodney's mind kept going over the same things again and again. He tried to keep focusing his thoughts so that he wouldn't give into the feelings of total panic that were lying just beneath the surface. Time seemed to stretch out and it felt like an eternity before finally he was able to move, although it was probably only an hour, like Jacobson had said. When the drug he had been given wore off and he could finally move, he shifted around trying, and failing, to get more comfortable. It wasn't much of an improvement. He was not a small man, but he doubted that the trunk could even have held a small man comfortably.
He wriggled his wrists and hands trying to loosen the rope restraining them, but they had been bound tightly. He could feel the rope biting into his skin. They were so tight that he wasn't able to shift his hands enough to reach for the knots with his fingers. He had pins and needles in his fingers and he tried to wiggle them as much as possible trying to keep the blood circulating, but he got the feeling he was wasting his time.
He tried calling out to Jacobson, or anyone, to let him out, but his voice was drowned out by the sound of the car's engine. As his voice began to get tired he saved calling out for when the car came to a stop, presumably at traffic lights and intersections when it was quieter, but they were few and far between. The car felt like it was moving fast, Rodney got the impression that they must be travelling along an interstate route.
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John
John finished his coffee and put the empty cup back in the cup holder in the car. He was just turning into Rodney's street. It was 0730, nearly a decent hour to drop in on someone. He had called Rodney on his cell again at 0700 but this time it went straight to messagebank.
He was feeling concerned. He kept telling himself that it was probably nothing – but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was hinky. When Farrell had told him what had happened he had to admit that he had been shocked. After all the stuff that they had been through when they were in the Pegasus Galaxy, you would think that things would be safe here on Earth – apparently shit followed you wherever you went. Rodney might not be on his team anymore, but old habits were hard to break and anyone who messed with Rodney was also messing with him.
John pulled up outside Rodney's ground floor apartment. There was a car parked outside, presumably Rodney's. It was still covered with dew, so it had been there a while. John walked past, putting his hand on the hood. Cold. Rodney must be home.
John knocked on the front door and waited. Nothing. He waited a couple of minutes then knocked again, louder. Still nothing.
Okay, Spidey sense definitely tingling now. Ten minutes later he returned with the apartment manager in tow. Yep, sometimes it was good to have clout.
He entered the apartment with the manager behind him. They both stopped just over the threshold. The manager gasped as they both looked at the red writing scrawled on the wall above the sofa.
John turned around and herded the man out of the apartment. "Air Force business. We will compensate you for any damage."
A few moments later he was alone. He quickly assessed the scene. Two discarded paper coffee cups, two glasses, one empty, and one full. He walked around the apartment. The bed was made, the apartment empty. He found a small bunch of keys on the counter. He picked them up and slid a key into the lock of the apartment door, operating the lock. Rodney's keys. Not good. His eyes strayed back to the words on the wall. Farrell had told John about the writing Rodney had found on his wall, but it was another thing to see it. The message was filled with hate. That was loud and clear. What had Rodney felt when he had seen it? Definitely not good.
Okay, so Rodney had a visitor last night. Who? Time to touch base with Farrell again. John rang the SGC and managed to get hold of Major Farrell.
"Colonel Sheppard. What can I do for you?"
"Major Farrell. Can you tell me, do you know if Doctor McKay had a visitor yesterday?"
Farrell paused, "Yes, sir. Doctor Jacobson from Area 51 was dropping by Doctor McKay's apartment on the way back to Area 51 yesterday – it would have been late afternoon or evening."
"Do you have his contact number?"
"Yes, sir."
John noted down the number.
"Okay, thank you, Major."
"Sir."
John hung up and dialled the number Farrell had given him and got the Area 51 call center.
"Doctor Jacobson, please."
"I'm sorry, sir, Doctor Jacobson is not available. Can I take a message?"
"This is Lt. Colonel John Sheppard from Stargate Command. Is Doctor Jacobson at the base."
"No, Colonel, he was due back last night but he hasn't arrived back as yet."
"Does he have an assistant you can put me through to?"
"That's Doctor Hawkins, one moment please, I'll put you through."
There was a pause then another voice came over the phone.
"Colonel Sheppard, you are looking for Doctor Jacobson?"
"Yes, I am, are you able to help me?"
"No, sir, Doctor Jacobson was due back last night but we haven't heard from him."
"Have you tried his cell?"
"Yes, we tried it this morning, but it's turned off."
This was getting more mysterious. Rodney and this guy Jacobson were missing? Time to call in the cavalry. He thanked Hawkins and hung up. His next call was to the SGC.
"General Landry, please. Colonel Sheppard calling."
"Yes, Colonel."
Pause.
Then the general's voice came on the line. "Colonel Sheppard, I hear you're scientist hunting. Any luck?"
"General, I'm at Doctor McKay's apartment and I'm afraid there is no good news. He's missing, and according to Area 51, Doctor Jacobson is missing too. They aren't answering their cell phones. I think Jacobson was here, there are two coffee cups here."
"Any idea on where they might be?"
"No, sir. Rodney's car is out front, but no sign of Doctor Jacobson's. That might be the place to start."
"Good idea, come back to base, Colonel, we will re-group and see what we have."
"Yes, sir."
John put the cell in his pocket and headed out of Rodney's apartment, making his way back to the SGC.
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RodneyRodney had no way of judging the passing of time. It had been dark when he was forced into the trunk but as day broke tiny slivers of light could be seen through holes the size of pinpricks dotted in the seams of the trunk.
Initially he had been thankful for the light, as dim as it was, but then gradually it had become hotter and hotter until it was unbearable as the car was driven in what was presumably a nice warm summer day and the sun heated the metal of the car. He became soaked with sweat in the heat, his clothes were heavy and wet against this skin. The air around him felt hot and stifling and he found his breath coming in sharp pants as he fought to get enough oxygen. He felt as though he was being smothered and tried very hard not to listen to the loud voice in his head telling him that he was going to run out of air in this coffin-like space. He continued to struggle unsuccessfully against the restraints around his wrists and ankles, and time became meaningless as he was carried against his will to an unknown destination.
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John
John had headed back to the SGC and spent the next few hours getting exactly nowhere with Farrell. Doctor Jacobson's car had not turned up at Paterson Air Force Base for his flight to back to Nevada.
They alerted local authorities both in Colorado and Nevada to be on the look out for the missing scientists. However when the call did come in, it came from neither state –but rather Kansas, Wichita – to be exact.
Doctor Jacobson had been admitted to Francis Hospital earlier in the afternoon. He had been picked up by local police wandering dazed by the roadside, a victim of an apparent carjacking. Details were a bit sketchy and they were waiting for the doctor's okay to question him further.
John double-timed it to General Landry's office with the news. He needed to go to Wichita and now. Luckily Landry agreed, and within the hour Farrell and John were in a helicopter on their way to Kansas.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
RodneyRodney always suspected that he would meet a sticky end. One where his own body gave up on him in a dark and enclosed space. His previous fears didn't seem too silly now, if those who had mocked him when he verbalized his fears of confinement were here now they would finally understand.
He had been lying in the trunk for hours, being bounced and bumped around as the car continued on its journey. The only positive note was that at least he didn't need to use the bathroom – although a voice in the back of his head told him that that wasn't necessarily a good thing.
Finally the car came to a halt after particularly bumpy stretch of road. Rodney could hear the driver's door open then shut, there was some sort of a bang then everything went quiet.
"Jacobson! Let me out! Let me out, damn you! Jacobson! Anyone! Can anyone hear me?" Rodney yelled as loudly as he could, his voice weak with overuse and dryness, but was only met with silence.
He wondered if it was night-time now. There was no longer any light coming in through the tiny holes in the metal. So the car was either undercover or it was night. The car hadn't moved for a while and he could hear clicks as the metal started to cool around him.
He was extremely uncomfortable. His muscles felt so sore; his shoulders were killing him, after being held in an unnatural position for so long. His body begged for release from its cramped and confined position. His calf muscle went into spasm and he couldn't help but close his eyes and let out a sob in response as he rode it out. He had been getting increasingly bad cramps in his arms and legs, which were becoming excruciatingly painful.
He was feeling very tired. He lay with his face resting on the floor of the trunk, his mouth open as he tried to catch his breath. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest - it was as if he could hear it thumping, the noise filling his ears in the quiet. He was feeling terrible. He had been thirsty for so long, his mouth felt dry and his tongue felt swollen and alien in his mouth. It was cooler in the car now, but his skin still felt hot and his clothes had long dried.
He had the headache from hell. He was still trying to come to terms to what had happened. But it was getting increasingly harder to think. The whole thing was like a bad dream. A nightmare.
He had been unhappy returning to Earth after being forced out of Atlantis by the returning Ancients. He had been upset and wondered why crappy things kept happening to him. Why he wasn't allowed to be happy?
He remembered one particular night he spent sleepless in his apartment staring at his ceiling. He had given into weakness in the early hours of the morning and spoke to the empty room. 'What next? What else can you possibly do to me?' Now he had his answer. He had challenged fate. What had he been thinking?
TBC…