McKay collapsed bonelessly to the floor of the closet. It had been a long session and Rodney was having trouble forming coherent thoughts. Images kept flashing in this brain, things he knew were important – he just couldn't put a name to them. A Scottish brogue, a ring of swirling water, a mop of dark hair above a cocky grin, stained glass windows. He was unsure how long he had been held captive and still didn't know what they were doing to him or what they wanted. He vaguely remembered that he was looking for something – no, someone – important. But for the life of him, he couldn't remember who. Was it Jeannie? Had she wandered off again? Rodney sighed as the darkness of the closet began to invade his mind and he gratefully let go as consciousness left him.
***************************
John eyed the warehouse from a block away. The information had been absurdly easy to gather once John had found his source. Carmine had indeed been incredibly helpful - after John had broken two of his fingers. Yeah, John thought wearily, I'm going to have to leave town after this one. John didn't think too much about the 'interview' although he did smile when he remembered the look on Carmine's face when John had calmly informed him that he no longer worked for LVPD and therefore didn't have to worry about charges of police brutality.
John didn't examine his intentions too closely. He was acting purely on instinct and gut feeling – not logic. If asked, he couldn't say why the missing scientist mattered to him so much – only that he did and John would do whatever was necessary to get him back. If that meant John was going to have to hurt some people, well, then they had it coming.
John eyed the top floor of the old building. According to Carmine, it had been recently purchased by a bunch of Russian ex-patriots determine to make Mother Russia a global power again. Carmine had said (through his gasps of pain) they were in the states, meeting with American scientists who may have qualms about the wars in the mid-east. They were working on an unlimited power source of some kind.
It all sounded too convenient, and given his recent experiences, too familiar, to John and so he thought he would follow the hunch. To be fair, he had tried to contact the StarGate program but the phone number McKay had left him turned out to be a personal number and had been turned off at the source. He had thought that maybe he should head out to Area 51, but that would take several hours and he didn't want to wait. It wasn't like he could call information and ask for the number of the top secret facility.
John checked his weapon once more and his pockets for extra clips. Quietly getting out of the car, John stealthily walked to the rear of the building and the fire escape he had spied earlier. Dressed in black cargo pants and tee, he tried to move quickly but silently up the old stairway to the roof. Gaining a token of confidence when no alarms were raised, John pulled his trusty lock pick kit from one of his pockets. Holding a penlight between his teeth, he made quick work of the old lock and silently slipped through the door.
John stole down the stairs. Pulling his automatic from the back of his pants, John flipped the safety off and peeked around the corner. If he had stopped to think about it, it was amazing how quickly his military training had come back to him. It had been four years since his discharge and yet it seemed like yesterday – and a lifetime ago. As it was, John did his best to push the memories away and concentrate on the here and now.
Creeping down the hallway, John checked each door and moved on. He didn't want to stop to pick the locks – it would take too much time. The top floor yielded nothing and John moved down to the third floor. Just as he was easing the stairway door open, voices stopped him – voices in Russian. John pressed himself against the wall behind the door in case the men decided to come through but breathed a sigh of relief as they passed by. Slipping through the door, John glanced around the corner noticing the guard at the far end of the hall. Bingo!
John slipped back into the stairwell and looked around. Opening the glass door to his left, John quietly removed the fire extinguisher. He wasn't sure if this was a smart plan but it was all he had. Taking a deep breath, he started to throw the extinguisher down the stairs when something occurred to him. "Really bright, John." He quickly returned the extinguisher and then eased back out into the hall. Taking a deep breath, John closed his eyes and with every bit of concentration he had, thought, "ON! ALARM! ON! ALARM!"
It was a strange feeling for John - luck was with him and he could vaguely hear the sound of McKay's scanner wailing through the door. John looked and could see the puzzled look on the guard's face as he turned, pulled the keys and opened the door. Stealing down the hall, John placed his hand on the doorknob waiting. When he felt the door begin to pull, he pushed as hard as he could, slamming the door into the stunned guard's face, McKay's scanner flying out of his hand. John put the guard out of commission quickly with two quick jabs to the jaw.
Pulling the guard to the corner and shutting the door, John thought "Off" and the scanner went quiet. Pocketing the devise, he looked around and saw nothing out of order. Discouraged, he was about to leave when he heard a scraping noise. Looking around again, John noticed the floor length mirror in the corner didn't look just right. Moving closer, he ran his fingers along the edges, and finding a catch, he opened the door.
"Aw God, No." John muttered taking in the still form of Rodney McKay. Blood was seeping from his nose and ears and he was deathly pale. John was sure that his nightmare was coming true and he dropped to his knees, pulling the scientist into his lap. "McKay? Oh God! Answer me, damn it!" John felt Rodney's neck and at the same time he felt the weak heartbeat, he noticed McKay's eyes flicker. "McKay? Rodney? Can you hear me?"
"John?" Rodney McKay stared up into the last face he expected to see.
The relief that swept through John left him weak and nauseous. He couldn't believe the shape the scientist was in with burns along his hairline and bruises on his neck and wrists. "I've got to get you out of here." John muttered more to himself than the man he was cradling. "Can you stand?"
"Wha? Huh?" McKay muttered as John moved around and grabbed his forearm, McKay immediately grasping John's forearm and letting the other man pull him up. John took a minute to steady him. "You okay?"
"Are you kidding?" McKay mumbled holding his head willing it to stop spinning.
John shrugged apologetically. "Well, you know, relatively?"
McKay didn't answer and watched through slitted eyes as John moved the unconscious guard into the closet and locked the door. Taking McKay by the arm, John moved to the door and peaked out. Seeing no one, he lead / carried the scientist down the hallway to the stairwell, the entire time thinking, "This is too easy . . ."
As the men stumbled down the stairs, John almost fell as Rodney came to an abrupt halt.
"What the hell, McKay!"
"Zelenka! We have to find Zalenka."
John stared at the doctor for a moment for whispering anxiously, "What! No, there's no time, we have to go. We can send help back for him."
McKay was swaying on his feet but adamantly shaking his head. "No, we can't leave him. They'll kill him."
John grimaced as a hundred things ran through his mind. It wasn't that he didn't care about the other scientist. It was just that now that he had found McKay, he didn't want to risk losing him again. Every second they stayed, they risked discovery.
"McKay . . ."
Rodney grasped John's arms as intense blue eyes bore into desparate green ones. "We can't leave him behind . . . I won't . . ."
John was held by that intense gaze for 10 seconds before relenting. If nothing else, he understood what drove the man. "Okay, okay, we'll find your buddy. Do you have any idea where . . ." John never finished the sentence as alarms began to sound. "Change of plans," he announced shoving the scientist down the stairs again. "Go, Go, Go!"
The two men reached the bottom floor and John pushed Rodney back against the wall as he pulled his gun and checked the hallway. Unfortunately, the exit door was 60 feet down the hallway and John could hear shouting coming from the opposite way. Ducking back into the stairwell, he looked the scientist over. He looked like death on a stick.
"How bad is it?" Rodney asked.
John grimaced. "Bad enough. Go back up!" John started pushing Rodney back up the stairs when they heard the top floor door fly open and feet pounding down the stairs. "Damn, Damn, Damn!" Sheppard muttered.
"Eloquent," Rodney replied out of breath as he was shoved through a door and down yet another hallway.
"Appropriate," John answered through gritted teeth. They were so totally screwed. John heard feet coming around the corner and pushed Rodney behind him as he took up a defensive position. Unfortunately, more guards burst through the stairwell door and they were surrounded.
John took a deep breath and bowed his head a minute to keep his anger under control – then he carefully held his hands up and placed the weapon on the floor. Standing up, he didn't move as he kept himself between the soldiers and McKay.
The guards parted as a middle aged man of 220 lbs. made his way through. John took in the cigar, the Russian military uniform circa 1982 and the grim expression and concluded this must be the man in charge. He was proven correct when the man rumbled, "Ah, Dr. McKay. Tell me, who is your friend?"
