Vegas: Resistance5
"But when the blast of war blows in our ears,"
John folded his arms across his chest. He nodded once and the engineers carefully carry the crates into the secret underground hangar bay. The crates are heavy, filled with naquadah bombs that will enhance the nukes already being attached to the Wraith Darts that will be used to infiltrate the enemy Hive ships and destroy them. John looked at Evan as he watched the progress, a grim expression on his face. "Is that it?"
"Yes. That's the last of it. If this doesn't work…" Evan Lorne left the rest unsaid. Both men knew the gravity of the situation. The dire consequences if this plan failed. Evan met John's gaze. "Colonel, I'd like to volunteer to fly one of the ships."
John smiled briefly. "I knew that you would, major. I can't think of a better wingman than you."
"Wingman? Then you…"
"No!" Rodney joined them, scowling. "Give me a day, John! Just one fucking day to open the rift and get the help we need!"
"We don't have a day, Rodney, and you damn well know it! The ship will be in position and we can't risk missing it, not for anything. Then we can take out the other one. I've read every assessment of the collateral damage and it has to be now. If we wait the fallout could hit the remaining population centers or worse it could hit the Yellowstone Caldera and blow us all to hell with a super volcano, so no, this is it."
"John, I can fly one of the ships. Surely there's someone else besides you," Evan reasoned. He wondered how callous the other man could be considering he has a wife and son now.
"There's not. You'll be handling the bio-toxin. I will follow with the bombs, and for that we need a highly skilled pilot who can maneuver through those damn Hives and deliver the payload exactly where it needs to go. And frankly, you're not that skilled. I am."
"No!" The men all turn as Moira rushed to them. Anxiety and anger colored her face as she neared, but her gaze is only on John. "You can't do this, John! You can't! I won't let you!"
"How…junior," John realized, looking past her but the little boy is nowhere in sight. "I don't have a choice, Moira."
"Of course you do! And you can't choose this! Please, John!" she said, touching his arm as the other two men stepped away quietly, loath to intrude yet watching all the same. Tears sparkled in Moira's eyes as she could see the resolve in her husband. The burden of responsibility was like a shadow on him. "John!"
"I'm sorry, Moy, but there's no one else." His voice had a gentle tone but his green eyes were solemn. It wasn't an easy decision to make but once made nothing will sway him. He tried to steel himself against his wife and her inevitable emotional reaction.
"You can't do this, John! You don't understand!" She touched her abdomen with her other hand. "I'm, I'm pregnant." Her voice softened at the admission and she blushed, aware of the audience near them.
John stared, suspecting a feint but realized she was sincere. He smiled. Warmth filled his beautiful eyes and he drew Moira to him. He engaged her in a soft, slow kiss. "My Moira." He freed her to tenderly touch her rosy cheek, to brush away a stray tear that has escaped from her eyes.
"John…so you can't go."
"On the contrary, sweetheart, I have to go now more than ever."
"What?" she exclaimed, breaking free of his embrace, of the moment.
"We already have one son living under the shadow of the Wraith. I won't have another child of mine living like that."
Moira stared, stunned. "John…" she stammered. She didn't know what to say.
His gaze darted to the two staring men. "Lorne, make certain those payloads are attached properly. McKay, let me know when you need junior's mojo to make the naquadah work with the Ancient interfaces. I've got to go see Carson about the bio-toxin." He looked at Moira again, and he smiled warmly. "Moira." Before she can say a word he turned and disappeared up the hallway.
"Moira? Moira's pregnant again? How can she be pregnant again?" Rodney wondered.
Evan rolled his eyes. "Really, McKay? Do I need to explain that to you again?"
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John stared at the monitor. The screen displayed a cell in a different facility miles from where John stood. He hit a button, enabling communications. "Administer the toxin."
Carson joined him. He eyed the monitor. "I really should be there, John, to fully witness the effects and to examine the corpses afterwards."
"No, doc. We had this discussion. I need you here in case you have to refine the toxin before we deploy it." Of course there was another reason now. John smiled for a moment, thinking of Moira. Newly pregnant with their second child. He thought back, trying to guess the exact moment of conception, but doused his erotic memories as he stared at the screen.
"Do you not want Moira to witness this as well? Despite her objections she was instrumental in helping me decode the DNA and the—"
"No. She doesn't need to see this."
"I'll need to secure a few for autopsy," Carson decided.
"Fine. But not here. There."
"And I can make certain there are no lingering environmental effects," Carson continued, as if he felt the need to talk while they watched the gruesome proceedings. "Despite Moira's misgivings I am certain this toxin cannot hurt any humans or animals or plant life or—"
"Okay, got it, doc. Let's just see what happens first, all right?"
A yellowish gas was pumped into the cell. It was enclosed by glass on all sides. Still the technicians wore complete hazmat suits, just in case. The prisoners were Wraith. Five in all, captured instead of being killed solely for this kind of experimentation. They had survived all kinds of toxins and study, all kinds of injuries and even amputation. It was as if they couldn't be killed, and John was beginning to despair when at last Carson had assured him he had found the right chemical combination that would kill them.
And keep them that way.
"Zoom in," John ordered.
The picture became closer, clearer. The effects were almost immediate. The airborne virus was causing the Wraith to cough, to choke. They snarled and moved around the cell, as if seeking a way out, as if seeking to get away from the toxic cloud but there was nowhere to go. There was no escape.
One by one they gagged and fell to their knees.
One by one their tongues bulged out and they tore at their throats in an attempt to breathe.
One by one they went into terrible convulsions and fluids began to leak out of their eyes, their ears, their mouths.
One by one they died.
John and Carson were silent. Watching the death they had bestowed upon the enemy. Neither felt remorse for this was war, and war was ugly. War was brutal. In the survival of the species only one could win, and both men were determined that the winner would be the human race. There was no room for moral objections or conscientious qualms.
There was only war. A war that needed to be fought and needed to be won.
By any means.