Vegas Blues: I See a Darkness6
"I think people choose to live in their own happy little delusions. They don't really wanna know the truth."
"Radek Zelenka," the female technician pronounced, reading off the scan she had taken. "DMV records indicate he is a Czech national, been in this country for five years. No criminal record but he's got some serious security clearance. A physicist."
"That's odd. Not that he's a physicist but that he was here, all of places," John mused. "I guess even scientists need to cut loose once in awhile." But it didn't feel right. Something was nagging at him and he couldn't put his finger on it.
He looked up at the casino. Bright lights stinging his eyes. The noise of the slot machines audible even out here. The constant clank and chime as money was lost and won and lost again. He could smell the alcohol. He could see that business was going on as usual even though a murder had been committed practically on the doorstep.
"What happened? My God, what happened?" Rodney pushed his way through, flashing a badge that appeared both authentic and mysterious at the same time. "John?"
John met his grief-stricken, shocked expression. "Found him here, like this. Robbery gone bad. Or so it appears. Marks on the chest but not like the others. A copycat. And oh, yours?" He handed Rodney the tracking device.
Rodney took it, stunned. Looked at Radek again. "That, that doesn't make any sense! Unless..."
"Unless? Spill it, Rodney."
Rodney hesitated. Took John's arm and drew him to one side. Past the policemen and forensics and gawkers. Away from the glaring lights and the noises of the casino. "He was going to meet some people. Some, er, sympathizers. That's why he had the tracking device. But we lost him."
"Sympathizers? What the hell does that mean?"
"There are some who fall under the spell of the, the creatures. Remember? The weak-minded. Even go so far as to worship them. Do their bidding."
John frowned. "Like the ones in that stakeout, got it. Like that whack job Hayes who killed Marcus. You're telling me there's more of them out there? Here, in Vegas?"
"Yes, unfortunately. It's like a cult, really. The Wraith can control their minds to some extent, find the vulnerabilities and prey upon them. But it's more. We've been tracking them. For some reason they are gathering here. Quietly, in growing numbers. We have been trying to infiltrate them. Get a man in on the inside."
"This Radek guy?"
"Yes. He was good at it too, pretending to be on their side. But apparently someone tipped them off he was a, a spy." Rodney looked over as Radek's body was zipped up into a body bag. He shook his head. "Despite our differences the man was a pretty good physicist. A good friend." His hand closed tightly over the smashed tracking device.
"But not so good at covert ops, apparently. Are you telling me that a bunch of, of Renfield types are converging on Vegas looking for what? Their maker? Their god?"
"Yes. Oh my God! His key card! Was his key card on him?"
"No. Everything was stolen except the tracking device."
"Oh no! Oh no! That's what they were after! The key card to our facility! Of course!" He snapped his fingers. "That must be their plan! To somehow liberate Todd! I don't know how he's even communicating with them but he is. Still babbling his bad poetry about the desert and the full moon and the coming tide and other nonsense. Unless he's having help, somehow. Someone." His brow furrowed at the thought. Mind racing.
John shrugged. "Then it's your problem, not mine." He began to head for his car.
"Wait! You can't just walk away from this!" Rodney followed.
"Watch me."
"John! We're going to need your help! Isn't it obvious?"
"What's obvious? As far as I'm concerned this is your problem. Not mine. Unless it happens to involve innocent civilians. Get your cronies to deal with the problem. Or better yet use that Weir chick to sort them out. That woman's got some serious arsenal at her disposal. I've got a homicide to solve and that's all."
"You can't walk away, John! These people, these fanatics are going to do whatever it takes to free him! They're even trying to feed like him now! Who knows what they may do next! Who else will have to pay the price for their insanity?"
"It's your problem, McKay. You created it by keeping that, that thing alive in the first place. Didn't you?"
"What do you want me to do, Sheppard? Put out an APB on some rogue copycat who thinks he's a Wraith? What if it's Ford? Have you even considered that?"
John froze. "It's not Ford."
"Are you sure? That enzyme is surging through his body, and quite frankly we don't know what it will do to him. And when he comes off it, he'll need more. It's like a drug. That much we do know. And if he can't get it..." Rodney left the rest unsaid. "John, we need your help on this. You're the only one who knows."
"Knows?" He turned back to Rodney. "I only know as much as you care to tell me. Pieces! I haven't been able to remember anything else, and maybe that's a good thing! I've been mopping up after your mess for weeks now! Having to invent fictions to cover the truth because the truth, the truth is unbelievable! I've had enough of dancing round the facts! It's your mess, McKay. You deal with it!" He turned, began to head for his car.
"Have you considered my job offer, Sheppard? John! Have you?" Rodney rushed after him, grabbed the other man's arm, halting him. Released him as John turned to face him. The two men stared at each other. Sizing each other up, assessing. Mutual antagonism, distrust dividing them. It was a perilous moment. It felt like a precipice, as the two men stood in the relative darkness of the side street. The night air was warm, still.
"Yeah. I have." John said nothing else. Offered no other answer or explanation. He turned, and left without another word. Left Rodney to stare after him, dumbfounded. Grief-stricken.
Alone.
"Crackpots?" Hendricks shook his head, set down a report as he sat at his desk. Dubious look on his face as he eyed John. He rubbed his chin. Shook his head again.
"Worse than that. Religious fanatics searching for their leader. Killing people they think have the information or things they need. They're going to converge on this area," John tapped his finger on a map he spread on the desk. A map of the desert. "And I think I know when. The full moon. It's in two days."
"Great. And your informant is reliable?"
"Very."
"Why out there in the middle of nowhere? What's out there?"
"Some government facility. Research, I think," John hedged. "I don't know the exact location. Classified science stuff. But these...these fanatics think their leader is being held there." He hedged around the truth. Cutting out the fantastic for the bare facts.
Hendricks considered, pursing his lips together. "Hmm. It's not on any database I can access." He looked at John. John kept his expression neutral. Waiting. "Pity we can't round them up before then. Before someone else is targeted. Any ideas?"
"Maybe. I might have an idea to lure them out of hiding. To get them all in one place before this event takes place. But it's a bit tricky. A bit unorthodox." He paused. "And I'll need some funds to get the bait. A few hundred should do it." He waited, tensing. Not exactly sure how much it would cost him, but if it didn't cost that much and he skimmed a bit off the top no one would notice. Probably.
Hendricks was staring at him, as if sizing him up. As if guessing his secret thoughts, secret motives. Finally decided with a quick shrug. "Nothing's ever easy with you, Sheppard."
John shrugged in response. "No, nothing ever is," he agreed.