A/N: Sorry for possible gross errors with geography – I live in NZ and got my knowledge of this part of the States from MapQuest – please try and overlook it if I've made major boo boos.
John
The flight out to Wichita felt like a long one. John's mounting concern for Rodney was playing havoc with his nerves. He tried to calm himself - both he and Rodney had been in dire straits before and had made it out. No worries. He just needed to think positive.
His eyes drifted over to the pilot and he allowed his mind to wander. Being the passenger didn't suit John, his body itched to take control of the helicopter, rules be damned, it just didn't feel right not to fly. It had been so long since he had flown a helicopter that he was practically nostalgic. Sure, a puddle jumper was essentially a space ship and one hell of a cool ride, but those dampeners tended to take the edge off. There was something pure and good about feeling your ride respond to your commands, to feel it dip and sway. Once Rodney was found safe and sound and things were back to normal, he just had to get some time in the air.
When John and Farrell got to the hospital they found that General Landry had rung ahead and smoothed things out with the local police. Luckily 'national security' was something the local law enforcement respected.
They got the okay from Doctor Jacobson's doctor to question the man and entered his room. Jacobson looked pale, his face was scratched down one side and raw looking. However his eyes were clear and he looked expectantly at the air force officers entering the room.
"Doctor Jacobson?" Farrell enquired.
The pale man nodded.
Since Farrell was officially heading the inquiry John let him do the introductions.
"I'm Major Farrell and this is Lt. Colonel Sheppard, we have been looking into the disappearance of you and Doctor McKay. We are both relieved that you are okay. We need to ask you some questions about what happened."
Jacobson nodded again.
Farrell and John pulled up chairs and settled themselves by the bed.
"How are you feeling?" Farrell asked.
John counted to ten. He wasn't sure he could do the slow and easy approach.
"Not too bad. A bit groggy - they think I might have concussion."
Farrell nodded. "I need to ask you about what happened."
"Was McKay with you?" John had never been all that great at patience.
Jacobson nodded. "I went to see him at his place about the investigation. We started chatting and decided to go out and grab a bite to eat. We were just getting into my car when these two guys appeared from nowhere and shoved a gun in our faces." Jacobson's eyes widened as he recounted the frightening event. "They sat in the back and told me to drive. I drove for hours with a gun to my head. We tried to find out what they wanted but they wouldn't talk. Just told us to shut up and drive."
"All the way to Wichita?" asked Farrell incredulously.
"Yes," Jacobson replied.
"Do you think it had something to do with the threats McKay had been getting?" asked John.
"Could be. I don't know for sure, like I said they weren't exactly talkative. They didn't seem to like Doctor McKay very much, but that could have been due to his manner."
"His manner?" Farrell looked confused.
"Well, he didn't take kindly to the whole carjacking thing." Jacobson explained.
John couldn't suppress his smile. Yep, that was Rodney.
"So how did you get away?" Farrell asked.
"I didn't. They let me go." He paused and took a deep breath. "It was morning, we were travelling down a deserted road when they told me to stop the car. I think they had decided that it was time to get rid of us. They got us to stand by the side of the road. Doctor McKay- well, Doctor McKay was being difficult and argumentative. One of the men finally had enough and completely snapped. He shoved the gun in Doctor McKay's face and told him that he was all talk and no guts. Told him that if he was so unhappy he should be a man and take charge, then he put the gun in Doctor McKay's hand." Jacobson paused again.
Farrell looked surprised. "What did Doctor McKay do?"
"Nothing. He just stood there staring at the gun in his hand. After a moment the guy took the gun back. He was laughing. He told McKay that was the difference between a scientist and a man of action like himself."
"So he knew Doctor McKay was a scientist?" Farrell perked up, no doubt hoping that he was onto something.
"McKay had told him earlier."
"Ah." Farrell looked disappointed.
"McKay just held the gun and did nothing?" John was trying to picture the scene.
"Yes. He was frightened. I'm not really sure McKay even knew how to use the gun. I think he was relieved in a way when the man took the gun back. The man was right, we are scientists. We're not soldiers like you."
Farrell nodded in agreement and Jacobson smiled. "I know that Doctor McKay went on a few missions in the Pegasus Galaxy, and talking to him you would think that he held his own alongside trained soldiers, but really, I think it was just talk. I hope you will forgive me saying this, but McKay likes to blow his own trumpet, but when it came down to it he couldn't pull it off. I'm a scientist. I know my own limitations, staying compliant and calm was the best move in that situation, which is probably why I'm here and Doctor McKay is not."
John felt a shiver of cold at that last sentence. What the hell had happened to McKay? He was just about to ask when Farrell repeated his earlier question.
"So how did you get away?"
"Like I said, they let me go. Just told me to start walking. When I asked about Doctor McKay they said they had plans for him. I did object to that. That's when I got this." Jacobson pointed at his face. "It's a bit hazy after that, but the last I saw of Doctor McKay he was being pushed into the trunk of the car and then it was driven away. I was left lying on the side of the road. I think I must have passed out or something because the next thing I remember was waking up here."
"The trunk?" John couldn't keep the shock out of his voice.
"Yes." Jacobson was grim. "He didn't look all that happy about it, but he was pretty docile at that stage. I think he had finally figured out who was boss. I'm sorry; I think that's all I can tell you. I can try to give you a description of the men – but it's all a bit hazy. They were pretty normal-looking really – no tattoos or anything."
Just then a nurse entered the room carrying a tray. As she spied Farrell and John she looked surprised.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you had visitors. I'll just leave this tray here. Hopefully you can handle a light meal." She was about to leave when she paused looking at Jacobson with a frown. "I'm sorry, but don't I know you?"
"I don't think so." Jacobson answered gruffly, shifting his position on the bed.
The nurse picked up his chart. "Thomas Jacobson, yes." She looked at the two visitors blushing slightly. "You must think me terribly rude. I'm so sorry. But I don't see many people from my little corner of the world." She looked at Jacobson. "It's Amy Miller. Do remember me? We used to go to school together."
"I think you're mistaken." If at all possible Jacobson was looking even paler than before, it looked as though recounting his ordeal had really shaken him.
Farrell looked a bit put out. "Ma'am, we are in the middle of something here."
"Oh, I'm sorry." The nurse turned an interesting shade of beetroot and left hurriedly.
John stared at the door as it shut behind the nurse lost in thought while Farrell noted down the descriptions of Jacobson's assailants. He could hear the descriptions in the background, one short man, the other medium height, both with brown hair, white, average builds, no distinguishing features, accents or anything else helpful. Somehow that didn't surprise him.
Rodney knew how to handle a gun, if he had a way to protect himself and Jacobson, wouldn't he use it? Rodney may act like a coward some of the time, but in reality he was far from it. John was having a hard time picturing the scenario Jacobson had described. As for getting into a trunk meekly? Really? Rodney was claustrophobic, he'd never go into a trunk without a fight, he'd be kicking and screaming the whole way. As for the nurse – what was with that?
John was still frowning when Farrell led the way out of the room.
"Basically we have squat. There's an alert out for the car – really that's all we've to go on." Farrell shrugged and gave John a sympathetic look. "Guess that's it."
John looked back grimly. "Not quite, I want to talk to his doctor."
"Why?" asked Farrell looking puzzled, then added an afterthought, "Sir."
"Just a hunch. Bear with me."
They managed to catch the doctor at the nurses' station.
"Can we ask you a few questions?"
The doctor looked up from the chart he was reading. "Sure, anything I can do to help."
"Thank you. I was just curious about Doctor Jacobson's injuries. How's he doing?"
"He should be fine, we're just keeping him overnight for observation."
"So that graze on his face and the concussion. Those were the only injuries?"
"Yes, he was lucky by the sounds of it."
"Concussion bad?"
"Doesn't seem to be – he was suffering from considerable confusion and grogginess before, but his pupil reactions were good, the MRI was clear, there's no swelling, not even a bump."
"Is that normal?"
"Not normal, but certainly not unprecedented, head injury is a funny thing. Different people are affected in different ways."
"It was definitely concussion?"
The doctor frowned. "You think it wasn't? He said he hit his head, he apparently lost consciousness for a while, he seemed woozy and confused, which is certainly consistent, and complained of nausea. Have you reason to believe it was something else?"
"No," John hesitated. "Any chance he could be faking it?"
Farrell and the Doctor both looked at John, startled.
The doctor frowned again and was silent for a moment, apparently thinking. "It's certainly possible, but unlikely. Why would he do that?"
John shook his head. "It's probably nothing. Just need to look at every possibility."
The doctor looked relieved, "Right. Well if you will excuse me I have patients that need my attention."
"Sure, thank you for your help." John gave him a tight smile.
"May I ask, sir, where you are going with this?" asked Farrell as they walked away from the nurses' station.
"Just a moment." John pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialled the SGC. He needed to speak to Landry.
"Any luck?" asked Landry on the other end of the line. "Is Doctor Jacobson okay?"
"Yes, sir, he's fine," replied John. "However, I need some information about him. Do you know where he grew up?"
There was a moment's pause at the other end. "What? Why do you need to know that?"
"Any chance you could humor me, Sir?" John asked hopefully.
"I don't know where he grew up. I'd need to check his personnel file. I'll look it up and let you know. I take it this is urgent?"
"It's the only thing I have, sir, and I think McKay is running out of time."
"Okay, Colonel. I'll get back to you in a few minutes."
"Thank you, sir, I appreciate it."
The line went dead, and John put the cell back in his pocket. He shook his head at Farrell, who was looking at him questioningly.
"When I hear from General Landry, I'll come clean. Let's sit and wait."
"I can guess, sir. But with respect, sir, I think you're way off."
"Wouldn't be the first time. But at the moment, my hunch is all I have."
The pair sat on the hard seats in the corridor of the hospital and waited. True to his word, General Landry rang back within five minutes.
"I had a look for you and Doctor Jacobson is a small town boy, was raised in a place called Saxman, Kansas. Now you going to tell me what's on your mind, Colonel?"
"Sir, I don't think Doctor Jacobson is on the level."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I think he knows where Rodney is, and he may have put him there."
General Landry was silent for a moment. "That's a serious allegation, Colonel Sheppard. I hope you can back it up."
"Not yet, but I will."
"Colonel, Doctor Jacobson is a trusted and respected member of the Stargate Program, you need have more on your side than a hunch. You need to be very careful of how you tread here, Colonel. I think that maybe you should report back here and we can decide how to handle this situation."
"I'm sorry, sir, you are breaking up. I'll call you from a land line."
John hung up and turned the phone off, placing it in his pocket.
"Sir?" Farrell asked.
"Go wait outside, Major. I need to sort out a couple of things. I'll join you shortly, and have the helicopter standing by."
"Yes, sir."
John nodded to Farrell, thankful that, unlike him, Farrell was an officer who understood the chain of command. John turned and walked back to the nurses' station, He needed a conversation with a certain nurse.
OoOoOoOoOoOoO
RodneyRodney didn't know how long he had been laying there, trapped like he was in some sort of suspended animation while the world presumably went on around him. He lay quietly with his eyes closed in the dark. He was shaking - he didn't know whether it was fear or something else. He had been without food for too long. He recognized the lethargy and the fog that was beginning to cloud his thinking. He was running out of energy.
He opened his eyes again, trying to make out shapes in the dark. He didn't want to die in this terrible place, alone and forgotten. He ignored his sore wrists and ankles as he started wrestling with the restraints again, pushing his feet against the side of the truck, futilely trying to straighten his legs.
The enclosed space and darkness seemed to be smothering him. He couldn't breathe. The panic that he had been holding at bay for so very long rose up and overwhelmed him. He was very aware of the moment when he lost his mind. He was aware that he was surrendering to fear and terror, aware that once he allowed himself to give up he might never be able to claw his way back to the light, to the rational world, to sanity. But after tottering on the brink for so long it was really only a matter of time before he let go.
He had called out before, hoping to be heard, yelled even, in his desperation, until his voice had begun to get hoarse. But now he screamed, ignoring the soreness in his throat, screamed in terror and horror as he thrashed his body around in the small space. He could no longer feel the pain of his aching muscles or the rope around his wrists and ankles. He allowed the fear to completely take over his mind. He lost control as he hit the metal with his feet, his knees, his shoulders, any part of his body that he could use to hammer and bang the inside of the trunk. Time lost meaning as he was caught in a whirlpool of panic, there was no room, no escape as he spun in a sea of terror, until finally his mind, his precious brilliant mind, withdrew into itself to hide from the torment and only a shell remained.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
John
John stepped into the room quietly, closing the door behind him and turning the lock. Jacobson was sitting up, his legs dangling off the bed, his back to John. He was looking out the window, but he turned his head as he heard John enter the room.
"Colonel Sheppard. More questions for me?"
John walked around the bed to stand in front of Jacobson. "You could say that, yes."
"I don't know what else I can tell you."
"How about the truth?"
A shadow seemed to pass over Jacobson's face. "What do you mean? I don't think I like your tone,: he said indignantly.
"I mean you haven't been telling the truth. What did you do to McKay?"
Jacobson shook his head, as if he were trying to dislodge a few drops of water. "You're way off base here, Colonel Sheppard."
"I don't think so, Jacobson."
"It's Doctor Jacobson to you, and I refuse to be bullied by you. I think General Landry would like to know that one of his subordinates is threatening one of his best scientists. Do you know who I am, Colonel?"
"Yes, you're a liar. You have done something to my friend and I want to know what, and where he is. What was the matter? McKay's intellect too scary for you? He was going to take your position at Area 51, wasn't he? You didn't want that, so you tried to scare him off." John laughed humorlessly. "That went surprisingly badly, didn't it? McKay has faced off worse threats than you, Jacobson. So you had to take more direct action, but you made a mistake. Actually no, you made a whole bunch of mistakes. Including two whoppers. One, I know Rodney. He was on my team at Atlantis, I know how he reacts in dangerous situations, and the man you described is not Rodney. He would have used that gun, and not so much to protect himself, but to protect you!" John ground his teeth together as he tried to contain his anger. "He is more a man than you could ever be, Jacobson. God help me if you have hurt him-"
John paused and took a breath. "As for your second gargantuan mistake, you rushed it, you didn't think it through. You came home for Christ sake! What were you thinking?"
Jacobson had gone an ugly shade of red. He shook slightly with rage as he spoke. "Colonel, I'm going to have you kicked out of the Air Force, how does a dishonorable discharge sound?"
John moved so fast Jacobson didn't even have time to blink. John grabbed the smaller man by the neck and put all his weight behind his action. Jacobson was forced onto the bed, his bare knees pulled up as his head was pressed down onto the mattress. John leaned in close to Jacobson's face, not letting up the pressure around the man's neck.
"Listen up, Jacobson. You are a little weasel, you no-good fucker. Tell me where McKay is and now. This is my friend we are talking about. You think I care about my job? You think it's more important to me than my friend? I'm not like you, you prick. I'm going to hurt you unless you tell me what I want to know."
Jacobson made a choking noise - his eyes were wide and bulging as he tried to breathe through the intense pressure around his throat.
John maintained the pressure as he continued, "You thought you could hide your crime by bringing McKay here, by hiding him in the perfect place where you thought no one would ever find him. Somewhere you remembered from your past. You faked being a victim, and it was all going so well till that nurse recognized you. You're busted, Jacobson. God help me, if you have killed Rodney, I'm going to kill you."
John took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I'm going to let you speak now. I want to know exactly where McKay is. Exactly. If anything else comes out of your mouth I will hurt you. Do you understand?"
John could feel Jacobson try to nod under his hand.
"Okay, your chance to do the right thing."
John released the pressure on Jacobson's neck, keeping his hand there so that the man understood that he would shut off the air again if Jacobson tried anything.
Tears had started to run down Jacobson's face. His voice was rough and cracked as he spoke. "Near Sterling, turn left off the main road, just after Harvey's Hardware Store, go down five miles, turn into Turner's Road, about two miles in, there's a dirt road to the right. There's an old abandoned barn, he's inside, in the trunk of the car."
John kept staring at the man, as he processed what he had been told. The bastard had abandoned Rodney in the trunk of a car. Left him to die.
"Was he alive?" John held his breath as he waited for Jacobson to reply.
"He was when I left him. I don't know about now."
"How long has he been in the trunk?"
"Since Colorado. About 11pm last night."
Shit. "Okay, you're going to stay here. You'd better spend your time praying for Rodney. Your survival depends on his."
Jacobson was still and quiet as his wide-eyed gaze followed John out of the room.
John stood outside Jacobson's closed door. He called over one of the nurses. "Call security. I want guards on this door. Doctor Jacobson is under the custody of the US Military. There will be someone sent to take him into custody."
"What's going on?" The doctor from earlier had obviously overheard and came over. "What's happening with my patient?"
"Jacobson is fine. He was faking his injuries. He kidnapped another scientist -" John paused, trying to control his feelings of rage. "Doctor, how long can a person survive locked in a truck of a car?"
The doctor looked shocked. "Well, it would depend on the temperature, model of car, air tightness etc. I'd say he'd be okay for about 12 hours, after that it's anyone's guess. I'd put survival about seventeen hours, dehydration a big factor, especially in this weather. How long has he been in there?"
John looked at his watch. 1638 hours. "Too long."
John left the doctor standing there as he ran out of the building.
TBC…
Only one more part to go….