John sat on the bench outside the saloon, alternately staring at the foothills behind Dakan or his watch. Ronon, Teyla, and McKay had been gone for almost two hours. Even with Teyla's periodic check-ins, John felt uneasy.
Worried because you aren't there, or is something really wrong? he wondered with another glance at his watch.
According to Teyla's last update, they were close to the camp but taking a quick rest break. If everything went according to plan, they should be on their way back within the hour, John told himself.
If.
It was a big word for only having two letters.
Was the cannon guarded? John wondered. Would Ronon and Teyla be able to handle the guards without him there to help? Would Rodney be able to disable the cannon and not get caught? What would happen to them if the bandits found McKay and the others tampering with the gun?
John frowned as one of the big reasons for his unease hit him again. Would Ezra be a help or a hindrance during the mission?
John blew out a breath and tried to distract himself from what was happening in the hills by watching the townspeople sort through the rubble of the partially destroyed bathhouse and laundry on the other side of the road.
Logan nodded and walked past the saloon carrying a wooden tub filled with towels.
John nodded back and caught himself staring at the hills again.
"Stop it," he ordered himself. "It's a simple mission. They will be fine."
Several minutes later, he heard the swinging doors creak behind him but ignored whoever it was coming out of the saloon and checked his watch for the fourth time.
"Here," Logan said.
John looked up in surprise. "How did -"
"Saloon has a side door," Logan replied with a smile. He held two cups in his hand and offered one to John. "Figured we could both use it."
"What is it?" John asked, taking the offered cup. He sniffed the mug, and his eyes widened in surprise.
"Fire whiskey," Logan replied, sipping from his cup.
John remembered Teyla's reaction to the whiskey and took a careful sip. The whiskey burned down his throat, and John tried not to choke. He took a second swallow and tasted the mellow vanilla and caramel undertones as the burn receded.
"Wow," John gasped, and Logan grinned.
"Good stuff." Logan took another drink and leaned against the awning support next to John. "Heard anything from your people?"
"Teyla has checked in a few times," John replied. "She said in her last report that they were near the encampment."
Logan nodded and glanced out at the lowering sun. "And your man can do what he says he can? He didn't look too happy when you told Hy about your plan."
John smiled. "McKay will get the job done, you'll see."
Logan grunted and swallowed more whiskey.
John finished his whiskey, set the cup on the arm of the bench and checked his watch. Teyla should be checking in any time now, he thought with a glance at the foothills.
Twenty minutes later, John pushed himself to his feet and tried not to groan as his foot throbbed. He grabbed for the nearest awning support and stared up at the foothills.
"Sheppard?" Logan asked.
"Teyla's late checking in," John replied.
"Maybe they're just busy with the cannon and lost track of time," Logan suggested.
John shook his head. "Teyla's not the type to forget. Something's wrong."
Logan glanced from John to the foothills. "You don't think -"
"What's that?" John interrupted, pointing at a dust cloud rising from the lower hills.
Logan shrugged. "The wind sometimes stirs up -"
"Colonel Sheppard," Teyla said over the radio, sounding breathless.
"Teyla?" John replied. "You're late. What's going on?"
"Ronon and Rodney have been captured."
"What?" John exclaimed, taking a step toward the water mill. Logan gave him a startled glance and opened his mouth, but John shook his head. "What the hell happened?" he asked over the radio.
"I am not certain. For some reason, Ezra caused a stampede of the raiding party's horses. The noise woke the men in the camp."
John's face lost all expression as he glared at Logan.
"Sheppard?" Logan asked with a puzzled frown. "What's wrong?"
John shook his head and concentrated on Teyla's report.
" … group of men were sent after the horses. I heard several gunshots, and a few minutes later, Ronon and Rodney were brought into the encampment."
"Alive?" John asked, dreading Teyla's next words. You haven't felt anything through the link, he reminded himself. But was that because Rodney was all right, or was he too far away for the link to react? the devil's advocate inside his head asked.
"Yes. Though I believe Ronon may have been wounded. There was blood on his arm."
"I'm coming to you," John said. "Where are you?"
"I am making my way back to Dakan," Teyla replied. "I am nearly back to the open area where we took a rest break."
"Stay where you are," John ordered, stepping off the boardwalk. "I'll be there as fast as I can."
"Colonel, wait!" Teyla countered. "You must warn the town. The horses will be out of the foothills soon. The townspeople are in danger if the animals are still in a frenzy."
John clenched his jaw and stared up at the foothills. The dust cloud was closer, and now that he had an idea what was making the cloud, John thought he heard the thunder of hooves. There was no way he'd be able to get to Teyla with who knew how many terrified horses in the way, he realised.
"Get back here as fast as you can," John ordered. "We need to make a rescue plan."
"Understood. Teyla out."
"What's going on?" Logan demanded as John tapped off the radio.
John ignored the question and peered up and down the dirt road. "I need to talk to Hyram. Now."
Logan crossed his arms over his chest. "Not until you answer my question. What happened? Weren't your people able to disable the cannon?"
John turned on Logan with a scowl. "I don't know," he ground out. "It seems your man, Ezra, screwed up."
"Now, wait just a minute," Logan retorted. "How do you know -"
"According to Teyla, he caused a stampede and Ronon and McKay were captured."
John watched Logan's expression shift from angry to indignant. "And you think he did that on purpose?"
"You tell me."
Logan pushed his hat back and glanced up at the foothills. "Ezra is a young fool. But I can't see him deliberately jeopardising those kidnapped people just to satisfy his ego."
From the little John had seen of Ezra so far, he could easily believe the man would place his personal gain over the safety of the hostages. But he didn't have time to debate the issue at the moment.
"There's another problem," John said. "Those horses he set loose are heading this way. We need to get your people out of the way and figure out how to stop a herd of rampaging animals."
Logan stepped off the boardwalk and turned toward the general store. "Jace and some of the other bovine herders should be able to handle the horses. I'll find them and let Hyram know what's happened."
John nodded, and Logan ran down the dirt road toward the store. "Where's Jace?" he called to several women sifting through the rubble of the damaged laundry.
The women pointed down the road, and Logan kept moving.
"Logan?" Hyram said as she walked out of another of the damaged buildings. "What's wrong?"
"Stampede heading this way," Logan called and kept running. "Sheppard will explain."
"Oh, thanks for that," John muttered under his breath.
"Clear the road!" Hyram shouted to the women and children sorting through debris.
The women looked up at Logan waving his arms, then grabbed the children and took shelter inside one of the undamaged buildings on the other side of the road.
A few moments later, John saw Logan stop one of the men outside the store. He waved his hand at the foothills behind the water mill, then the two men ran toward one of the paddocks where several horses grazed, waving to several others who joined them.
"Colonel Sheppard," Hyram said, stopping next to John with a concerned frown. "Logan said you would know what's happening."
John studied Hyram's face for a moment, then said, "The team we sent into the hills ran into a problem. Long story short, a stampede of horses is headed this way."
"I see," Hyram replied. "And do you know what caused this stampede?"
John crossed his arms over his chest. "I have an idea."
Hyram studied him for several seconds. "If you have something to say, Colonel," she started to say and turned as several men on horseback rode past in the direction of the general store.
"We'll turn' 'em into the empty paddock," Logan shouted to the men on horseback, pointing to one of the large fenced fields behind the town.
"Logan! Stop!" Hyram called and stepped into the road.
Logan pulled up and leant down in his saddle. "Hy, I don't have time." He glanced at the foothills and added, "Them horses are almost here."
Hyram glanced at the men passing them on horseback.
"You can't mean to run those animals through town?" Hyram said to Logan.
"Don't have a choice," Logan replied as another man rode past. "Jace, tell 'em."
Jace stopped and pushed his hat back, and John recognised him from the debate in the saloon. "Those poor beasts are terrified, ma'am," he said to Hyram. "There's not enough open ground in front of the foothills to turn 'em."
"Explain your plan to Hy," Logan said to Jace. "I'll get the rest of the men in place."
Jace watched Logan ride toward the end of town near the store and turned back to John and Hyram.
"Logan says the horses belong to those thieves in the hills. Is that right?" Jace said, and John nodded.
"That's right."
"Okay, that means they have already been runnin' a while. Hopefully, that means they're startin' to tire. If we set up a line at the other end of town, we should be able to turn 'em into the fields and corral 'em in the old paddock out near the stream." Jace pointed to the open ground behind the saloon.
The sound of thundering hooves was closer, and John glanced at the foothills behind the water mill. "Here they come!" he said.
Jace glanced toward the foothills and nodded. "Best get out of the road," he said to Hyram, slapping the ends of his reins on his horse's flank. He galloped to the end of town near the store and took up his position in the line of waiting horsemen.
"Will this work?" John asked as Hyram joined him under the awning.
"One of the most dangerous things to deal with is a stampede," Hyram replied, her face set in a worried frown. "The animals are out of their mind with fear. If Jace, Logan, and the others can get them turned toward the paddock, the horses will hopefully stop once they realise they've found food and water. We can then contain the herd inside the paddock."
"And if they can't turn them?"
Hyram pursed her lips. "The horses may stop when they reach the low hills outside town. Or they could charge back in this direction. Either way, people will get hurt."
John turned toward the foothills and watched as the lead horses swerved around the water mill, splashed through the stream, and charged toward the wide dirt road down the middle of town.
"Let's hope they can turn them, then," John said as the rest of the horses thundered past the water mill and entered the town.
John pulled Hyram back a few more steps as the horses tore past the saloon, kicking up a dust cloud as they thundered down the road. He heard the panicked wheezing of the horses as they ran and nearly choked on the stench of sweat and dust. He heard Hyram coughing next to him and covered his nose with the collar of his uniform shirt.
The men on horseback at the other end of town started yelling and waving their arms as the horses reached the end of the road.
The horses showed no sign of stopping, and John was sure Doctor Mitchell would have a dozen more patients as the men continued to yell and flap their hats at the galloping horses. At the last moment, however, the lead horses turned and ran into the open fields behind Dakan.
Jace and the other men on horseback rode alongside the herd, forcing them toward the paddock. As John watched, he thought the frantic horses were slowing. Sure enough, a few minutes later, the herd ran into the empty paddock at more of a trot than a gallop and stopped near the far fence line.
Jace dismounted and closed the gate behind the last of the horses.
"Well done," Hyram congratulated the men as they walked back into town a few minutes later, leading their mounts.
"Thanks," Jace replied. "The horses look to be in good shape. Assuming none of them drops from exhaustion, we'll be able to put them to work in a few days."
Hyram nodded. "Tell Rance to pour each of your men a pint with our compliments."
Jace tipped his hat to Hyram with a smile. "Will do," he replied, nodding to the men behind him.
The men tied their horses to the awning supports, trooped into the saloon, and John heard the men calling for beer.
"We need to talk," John said to Hyram.
"Yes, I believe we do, Colonel," Hyram replied, pushing the swinging saloon doors open. "Come to my office."
John nodded and limped through the saloon's main room behind Hyram. Jace and his men gathered around the bar or the piano with mugs in hand, congratulating themselves for a job well done. One of the men pounded enthusiastically on the piano keys. John winced as the piano jangled and a few of Jace's men sang an off-key song.
John followed Hyram through the rear door of the main room, down the hall, and into the office. Hyram closed the door, shutting out the sound of singing and sat behind her desk.
She waited until John sat on one of the chairs facing her, then said, "I believe we owe you some thanks as well, Colonel. Logan said you warned him about the approaching horses?"
"Teyla told me."
Hyram rested her arms on the desk. "Did the people you sent to disable the cannon start the stampede?"
John shook his head. "Not exactly."
Hyram frowned. "Then what exactly caused it?"
John leant back in his chair and pursed his lips. Would she believe him? he wondered. He had made no secret that he wasn't thrilled with Erza accompanying McKay and the others into the foothills.
"Colonel?" Hyram prompted with a frown. "I'm waiting for an answer."
John bit the bullet and blew out a breath. "It was Ezra."
Hyram narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
John sat forward in his chair. "According to Teyla, Ezra caused that stampede. Either by accident or design, you'll have to ask him. But on top of nearly killing the people here in town with his reckless behavior, Ronon and Doctor McKay were captured."
Hyram sat forward in her chair. "Do you know if Doctor McKay was successful in disabling the cannon?"
John mentally grimaced at the lack of concern for his people. She has a responsibility to the entire town, not just a few strangers, he reminded himself.
"I don't know," John replied. "Teyla was more concerned with making sure the town was warned about the approaching threat of the horses. I haven't heard from her since."
"I see." Hyram clasped her hands together on the desk. "This idea of yours didn't exactly go to plan, Colonel. If Teyla's report is accurate, it only resulted in these barbarians capturing two more people."
John clenched his jaw and ordered himself to keep his temper under control. "My people weren't at fault here."
"We only have one side of the story," Hyram pointed out. "As you admitted, the stampede could have resulted from an accident as much as a deliberate act."
"That's not -" John started to argue but stopped when the office door opened.
"Ezra's back," Logan said with a glance at John.
John pushed himself to his feet. "And?"
Logan frowned. "And his story doesn't quite match what you told me," he admitted.
"Really?" John said and carefully stood. "I think I'd like to hear this."
"I would as well," Hyram added and led the way back to the saloon's main room.
" … barely got away," Ezra said. He nodded as Rance passed him a mug of beer.
"Ezra," Hyram said, walking across the room and standing at the end of the bar, "what happened up there?"
Ezra finished his beer, plonked the empty mug on the bar and raised an eyebrow at Rance. "Not much to tell," he said as Rance replaced the empty mug with a full one. Ezra smirked at John, then focused on Hyram. "I told you trusting these people was a mistake."
"Just tell Hy what happened," Logan growled.
Ezra shrugged and drank more beer. "That woman ordered me to watch the road while their so-called expert worked on the cannon."
John heard the disdain in Ezra's tone when he spoke of McKay and clenched his jaw. Two of his people had been captured, and according to Teyla, it was the result of Ezra's incompetence. What else had he done to sabotage the mission? John wondered.
"I crept close to the camp and saw our people in a makeshift stockade," Ezra continued.
"You saw my son?" Cal asked. "Was he all right?"
Ezra nodded. "A few had bandages wrapped around their arms, but everyone seemed more or less okay." He glanced at John with a sneer. "And I wasn't going to leave our people at the mercy of those raiders based on some stranger's half-baked idea of disabling that cannon."
Ezra swallowed some of his beer and continued, "The men in the camp were all asleep, so I made my way across the camp toward the stockade. Everything was going fine until something spooked the horses. Before I could do anything, the stupid animals broke free of their paddock and charged toward me."
"That is not what happened," Teyla said, pushing through the swinging doors.
"Teyla!" John said with a relieved smile and limped over to her side. "All right?"
Teyla nodded. "I am fine, Colonel." She handed John a familiar backpack. "I found it next to the cannon." She glanced at John and added in a whisper, "There was also a body."
John glanced at Hyram and Logan, took McKay's pack, and carried it back to the bar.
"Isn't that -" Logan started to ask, and John nodded.
"It belongs to Doctor McKay," John said to Hyram. "And he wouldn't just leave it behind."
John opened the pack and dug through the main compartment. Rodney's computer, a couple of MREs, and three water bottles were there. He checked the front pockets, frowned when he found the stash of power bars, then rechecked the main compartment.
"His tools are missing," he said in a low voice to Teyla.
"I did not see any tools near the pack. Perhaps Rodney still has them?"
"Or they were stolen," John replied. He zipped the pack and set it on the floor. 'Tell me about the body."
"Body?" Logan asked. "What body."
Several people sitting nearby looked up in surprise. John noticed the smirk Ezra tried to hide behind his beer mug. Hoping the dead man was McKay or Ronon? John wondered.
"From how he was dressed, the man must have been one of the bandits from the camp," Teyla said. "I believe Ronon shot him. The wound matches those made by his particle weapon."
John nodded. "If they were attacked, Dex would try to protect McKay."
"I am rather confused, Colonel," Hyram said. "Nothing Teyla has said so far contradicts Ezra's accounting of events."
Teyla glanced at John, waited for his nod, then turned to Hyram. "What Ezra told you was not entirely truthful."
"You callin' me a liar?" Ezra demanded. He slid off his stool, clenched his hands into fists, and stepped toward Teyla.
Teyla studied Ezra for a moment, then turned to Hyram. "I believe -" she started to say, but Ezra interrupted.
"Hey! I'm talkin' to you," Ezra said. He closed on Teyla with his hands raised as if to push her.
Before John could step in, Teyla grasped one of Ezra's extended wrists and braced her other hand against Ezra's arm just above the elbow. She then twisted her body and, using her leverage on Ezra's upper arm, forced Ezra to his knees. Ezra struggled against the hold on his arm, but Teyla merely applied more pressure, making him groan.
The people seated nearby scooted out of the way, and John heard several snickers as Teyla maintained her hold on Ezra.
Hyram glanced around the room, silencing the laughter with a stern look, then said to Teyla, "Let him up, please."
Teyla glanced at John, who gave her a minute nod, and let go of Ezra's arm.
Ezra held his right arm against his chest, climbed slowly to his feet, and glowered at Teyla.
"I warned you not to bring shame to me or this town," Hyram said as Logan took hold of Erza's shoulder. "Now, you will sit," she nodded to Logan, who forced Ezra onto the nearest bar stool, "and be silent as I try to sort out what happened."
Several of the townspeople who had been congratulating Ezra now gave him furtive glances and shook their heads as they took their beer mugs and scattered to various tables.
"Don't see why you're all ready to take her side," Ezra grumbled, jerking his chin at Teyla. "These people are strangers. You know me."
"That's kind of the problem," Logan replied with a tight smile.
Ezra scowled at Logan and grasped his beer mug in both hands.
"Please," Hyram said to Teyla. "Continue."
Teyla took a deep breath. "The first part of Ezra's account is true. With his help, we reached the small plateau with the Wraith cannon by early afternoon. After a brief examination, Doctor McKay determined he could disable the cannon without much trouble. I had Ronon stay with Doctor McKay while Ezra and I scouted the trail to the bandit's camp."
"Why?" Hyram asked. "You were there merely to disable the cannon. There was no need to enter the camp."
"That is true," Teyla said with a nod. "However, if the men in the camp were already stirring, I wanted to be in a position to watch them and alert Ronon in case we needed to make a hasty retreat."
"Makes sense," John said, and Ezra snorted.
"And were any of the men awake?" Hyram asked with a glare at Ezra.
Ezra scowled and nursed his mug of beer.
"A few," Teyla answered. "Three men, armed with rifles, stood near a makeshift stockade built against the side of the mountain near the back of the camp. A fourth stood watch near the head of the trail. None of the men were paying close attention to their duties. The men guarding the stockade stood in a group talking. The man guarding the trail was more interested in dozing than alerting his compatriots to a threat. It was a simple matter to evade detection and enter the camp. Once we were past the lookout, I signalled Ezra to take the right side of the camp while I moved to the left."
"So you were not with Ezra when the horses stampeded?" Hyram said.
"I was not," Teyla agreed. "However, I could see him across the camp. I was looking for the best way to reach the people inside the stockade to tell them that we were working to free them when I heard a commotion on Ezra's side of the camp."
Hyram glanced at Ezra slouched on his barstool.
"Then what happened?" John asked.
"I saw Ezra open the paddock gate and slap the hindquarters of several horses. The animals were startled, but they stayed in the paddock until Ezra raised his rifle and fired it into the air. The noise - "
"You're lying," Ezra growled.
"Ezra," Hyram said, the warning clear in her tone.
Teyla glanced from Hyram to Ezra. "As I was saying," she continued when it was clear Ezra would remain silent, "the rifle shot startled the people in the stockade as well as the horses. A few people waved their arms at Ezra, I believe they were trying to tell him to stop what he was doing, but the damage was done.
"Several men exited their tents a few seconds later and looked around. They spotted Ezra and ran toward the paddock. Ezra fired a second round into the air and began yelling at the animals. The frightened horses charged through the paddock gate, running down a few of the bandits in their desire to escape."
"Where were you?" John asked.
"I was still on the other side of the camp," Teyla replied. "The men were focused on trying to, unsuccessfully, catch their panicked animals, and I was able to find a place to hide behind a rocky outcrop."
"And Ezra?" Hyram asked.
"I lost track of him during the chaos," Teyla replied with a significant look at John.
"You mean he ran," John said in a flat tone, and Teyla shrugged.
"Shows what you know," Ezra growled. "I ain't no coward."
"Shut it," Logan ordered.
"It would explain how he got back to town so fast," John said to Hyram. "What about McKay and Ronon?" John asked Teyla. "You said they were captured."
Teyla nodded. "Unfortunately, yes. After the horses were gone, a man with dark hair came out of another of the tents. He shouted at the men standing guard, then ordered four others to go after the horses. I radioed a warning about the men to Ronon, and he replied that they would meet me where we stopped to rest.
"I did not want to be discovered and was looking for a safe route out of the camp when I heard several gunshots. Three of the bandits returned a few minutes later, with Ronon and Doctor McKay."
John grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "And you're sure Ronon was injured?"
Teyla glanced at Hyram and nodded. "There was blood on the sleeve of his coat. I am not certain how seriously he was hurt."
"And Rodney?"
"He seemed fine," Teyla said.
"Then what happened?" Hyram asked.
"The dark-haired man told one of his men to put Ronon and Doctor McKay in the stockade with the rest of the townspeople. Once they were secured, the men in the camp gathered around one of the larger fires, talking amongst themselves."
"I see," Hyram said. "Thank you, Teyla." Teyla nodded, and Hyram turned to Ezra. "Do you wish to say anything else?"
Ezra finished his beer and started to stand. Logan pushed him back down on the stool.
Hyram shook her head. "Let him go, Logan."
Ezra shook off Logan's grip on his shoulder, slammed the empty beer mug on the bar, and stood. He glowered around the room, then pushed toward the swinging doors. The townspeople parted to let him through, many refusing to look at him.
Ezra stopped near the doors and turned. "At least I tried to do something," he said. "None of the rest of you were going to do anything."
He scowled at Hyram and John, then pushed through the swinging doors and disappeared.
John heard his stomping footsteps echo down the boardwalk toward the general store. He waited for the footsteps to recede and turned to Teyla. "Anything else you can remember about the camp?"
"Other than the stockade and the paddock, the camp is a series of tents laid out in rows. There was a larger tent, possibly a gathering place for meals, on the left side of the camp near my hiding place. I heard several of the men mention the name Kade. I believe he is the dark-haired man, and their leader."
"Ring any bells?" John asked, glancing from Hyram to Logan.
"There was a Kade from one of the villages at the other end of the valley," Logan said. "He'd come through here a few times a year to trade through the Ancestor's ring. He and his men were always causing trouble."
"What sort of trouble?" John asked.
"Fights mostly," Logan replied. "There were a few accusations of theft by the merchants in town. After the last time he was here, I ran them out of town and warned Kade not to come back."
"So this Kade is targeting Dakan out of what? A need for revenge?" Hyram asked.
"Doubt it," John replied. "You said these bandits have been terrorising the nearby towns for the last year. Dakan is just his latest target." He shifted his weight and grimaced as his foot throbbed.
"You should sit," Teyla suggested, but John shook his head.
"We need to get back up there."
"We cannot." Teyla glanced out the large picture window. John followed her gaze and noted the sun low on the horizon with a grimace. "It will be dark soon," Teyla continued, "and sections of the trail leading up to the camp are steep."
"Kade and his people seemed to manage well enough when they attacked the town last night," John replied.
Teyla rested a hand on his arm. "I know you are worried. I, too, am concerned. But we have been awake for more than a day. We need rest. And you really should let Doctor Mitchell check your leg and foot. If it is more than just cuts and bruises, you could do permanent damage hiking into the foothills."
John clenched his jaw and stared over the top of the swinging doors. He hadn't liked the idea of his team going off without him, and it seemed his concerns were justified. He knew Ronon could take care of himself and McKay, but he didn't like the thought of the two of them in the hands of these bandits. If Kade discovered they had sabotaged the cannon, there was no telling what he would do.
But Teyla had a point. He and McKay had been trapped in the rubble of the jail for hours. There had been little time to rest between dealing with Rodney's panicked reaction once he realised they were trapped and trying to dig themselves out. He was exhausted, and his foot ached if he put any weight on it.
"Fine," John grudgingly admitted. "We'll leave at first light."
"And if Kade decides to attack again tonight?" Logan asked.
"I'm going to assume Rodney was able to do something to disable the cannon," John replied. "And with Ezra setting loose their horses, I doubt Kade will try anything tonight."
"Hope you're right," Logan said.
"So do I," John muttered to himself and glanced at Teyla. "You remember how to get to the camp?"
Teyla nodded. "Other than a few places requiring extra care, the trail is easy to follow."
Hyram studied John for a moment, then turned to Rance. "Is there a room upstairs Colonel Sheppard and Teyla can use for the night?"
Rance nodded. "I can have one of the girls put something together."
Hyram pointed to one of the boys standing against the wall. "Go find Doctor Mitchell. Tell him to bring his bag and come to the saloon."
The boy nodded and scurried out the swinging doors.
John eased into the nearest chair and nodded when Teyla helped him rest his foot on an empty chair. "We will get them back," she said and sat beside John.
"Yes, we will," John replied. One way or another, he silently added.
~*~*~*~ SGA ~*~*~*~
Ronon slowed as they entered the camp and looked around. Short, tufty grass grew in a wide swath surrounded by a fence made of bits of wood and rope. Tents in three rows lined one side of the valley. A larger tent stood near the empty paddock. A makeshift stockade made of thick branches held together with more bits of rope sat under the lip of an overhanging rock formation. Several people stared at him through the wooden bars, and Ronon recognised a few of the faces from town.
"Keep moving," Wayne growled and pushed Ronon in the back.
Ronon turned on Wayne but stopped short when Wayne pointed his rifle at McKay.
"Want to start something?" Wayne asked with a sneer and kept the rifle pointed at McKay.
Ronon clenched his hands into fists but didn't take the bait.
"Didn't think so," Wayne said and shoved Ronon again. "Move."
They were near the large tent when a short, burly man, around Sheppard's age, with dark hair pushed aside the tent flap and stepped outside. He stood barely at McKay's shoulder, but Ronon noted Wayne and Harlan appeared more than a little afraid of him.
The man glanced first at Ronon and then McKay. "What's this?" he growled at Wayne. "You were supposed to round up the horses."
"Sorry, Kade. The horses are gone," Wayne replied. "Stampeded down the hills. They're probably halfway to the Ancestor's ring by now. Caught these two down near the gun."
Kade glowered up at Ronon, then glanced at McKay. "Spyin' on us, are you?" he asked, poking McKay in the chest.
"That's not -" McKay started to say, but Ronon elbowed him in the side. McKay scowled but closed his mouth.
"They were armed with these," Wayne said. He pulled the particle weapon out of his pocket, laid it on a table outside the large tent, and nodded to Harlan. Harlan added McKay's Beretta and Ronon's knives to the pile.
"Oh-ho," Kade said, picking up the particle weapon. He sighted down the barrel and nodded. "I haven't seen one of these since that trip we took to …" He snapped his fingers a few times and glanced at Wayne.
"Vestra," Wayne supplied.
"Right," Kade said, rubbing his hand over the weapon barrel. "I think I'll just keep this for myself." He glanced over the assortment of knives and picked up Ronon's large combat knife. "And this," he added.
Ronon clenched his hands into fists. "You won't have them for long."
Kade looked Ronon up and down, then waved a dismissive hand. "Put 'em with the others," he ordered with another glare at Ronon. "We'll be sure to target a few more women and children tonight," he added, loud enough for the people in the stockade to hear him. "Show Hyram who's really in charge. No one gets away with trying to ignore me."
"Napoleon complex much," McKay muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Kade growled and shoved McKay into Harlan, standing behind him.
McKay stumbled again when Harlan pushed him toward Ronon. Ronon grabbed the back of McKay's tac-vest, keeping him on his feet.
McKay nodded to Ronon, then turned to Harlan with a scowl.
"You heard the man. Move," Wayne ordered and poked Ronon with the rifle.
Ronon spun on his heel and grabbed the rifle. Several men standing nearby raised their weapons in response, and Ronon heard McKay suck in a nervous breath.
"We're going, we're going," McKay said to Wayne. "We can't do anything if we're dead," he added under his breath to Ronon.
Ronon let go of the rifle and stood with his hands clenched into fists as he glared at Wayne.
"Not the time," McKay sing-songed in a low hiss. He gave Wayne a sickly smile and tugged on Ronon's arm.
Ronon pulled his arm free, glared at Wayne for a few more seconds, then turned and walked across the camp to the stockade. McKay hurried to keep up, and Ronon noticed he made more than one furtive glance at Wayne following behind them.
Wayne nodded to one of the men standing next to the stockade. "Open it up."
Two more guards stood on either side of the stockade and pointed their weapons at the people inside.
"Back," one of the men ordered. The men and women quickly herded the children together, shuffled toward the back of the stockade, and lined up against the stone wall.
The first guard untied the intricate knot holding the barricade closed and pulled open a section of the wood and rope fence.
"Inside," Wayne ordered, pushing McKay in the back with the rifle. McKay stumbled inside the stockade and grabbed for one of the wooden supports.
McKay turned on Wayne with a scowl. "Do you mind?"
Wayne took a threatening step forward, but Ronon moved between them, blocking his attempt to reach McKay.
Wayne sniffed and stepped back. "Don't get any ideas," he said with a smirk, pointing at the men holding rifles as the guard re-tied the knots holding the gate closed. "Feel free to explain to these fine folks how your attempt to play the hero is going to end in the destruction of their town."
Ronon grabbed two of the vertical wooden bars and scowled at the guards as Wayne walked back to the large tent.
"Well, this sucks," McKay grumbled. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and his back braced against one of the wooden supports. "Do you think Teyla and Ezra made it back to town?"
Ronon stood next to him with his arms resting on a crossbeam. "Probably," he replied, looking down at McKay.
McKay nodded and glanced at the townspeople. "Too bad we didn't come in a jumper," he said a moment later. "One drone would have Kade running for his life."
Ronon snorted and watched as Kade twirled the particle weapon in his hand, pointed it at a stubby tree on the other side of the camp, and fired.
McKay and several of the townspeople ducked as the tree exploded.
"Likes his new toy, I guess," McKay said, peering at the burning remains of the tree.
"Won't be his for long," Ronon promised.
The sun started to set, and fires sprang up in front of some of the tents. It wasn't long before Ronon smelt various foods cooking over the flames.
"Hey, handsome," Addie said.
Ronon turned as she stopped a few paces away.
"Didn't expect to see you here," she added with a tired smile.
"Wasn't planned," Ronon replied with a grunt.
Addie pursed her lips. "We saw Ezra a little while ago. He chased Kade's horses out of the paddock. You came with him?"
"More like he was with us," McKay said. "And then screwed up the plan."
"Now, just hold on," a male voice countered. Ronon glanced at the crowd and saw a balding man of about forty step up next to Addie. "At least he tried to help."
"Help?" McKay retorted, pushing himself to his feet. "If it weren't for him, we," McKay pointed at himself and then Ronon, "wouldn't be here, and Sheppard's plan would have worked."
"Plan, 'eh," the man replied with a snort. "Not much of a plan from where I'm standing."
"This was only the first part," McKay said.
"Right," the man drawled. "They didn't have a plan," the man told the others.
"Enough," Ronon growled, glaring at the man. "New plan. Find a way out of here."
"Not sure how," Addie said, nodding at the men walking around the stockade. "Not with the guards."
Ronon glanced at the three men cradling their rifles in their arms and snorted. The men held their weapons with the ease of long use, but none of them looked like a trained hand-to-hand fighter.
Shouldn't be hard to get past them, Ronon thought to himself, fingering the rope holding the bars of the stockade together.
"Don't even think about it," McKay said.
"What?"
McKay glanced out at one of the guards and shook his head. "You know what."
McKay pointed at the men scattered around the camp. "You try and take out the guards, and the rest of them," McKay waved his hand at the men scattered around the camp, "would be on us before we got halfway to the trail. We need to wait for Sheppard. He'll have some sort of better, not to mention safer, plan."
Ronon growled low in his throat then hit one of the wooden bars, groaning when his arm throbbed in response.
"We need to do something about that," McKay said, pointing to Ronon's bloody sleeve.
"It's fine," Ronon growled. "Just a graze."
"It's not fine," McKay retorted, "You're still bleeding, and I know from personal experience even a 'graze'," he mimed the quote marks, "hurts like hell."
Ronon glanced at McKay, wondering when he would have been shot.
"I can't do much, but I can at least clean it out and bandage it." McKay ripped open one of his vest pockets and pulled out a sealed antiseptic wipe. "Take off your coat."
Ronon glowered at McKay, then focused on the men huddled around the campfires.
"When Sheppard gets here, I do not want to tell him that you've keeled over from blood loss," McKay said. "Take off your coat."
"Fine," Ronon replied and shrugged out of the leather duster.
McKay grimaced and picked at the bloody shirt sleeve. "I don't suppose you still have any knives?" He glanced at the guards and added in a whisper, "I can't exactly get to the one Sheppard gave me with them watching."
Ronon glowered at McKay, then grasped the shirt at the shoulder and tore off the sleeve.
"I guess that works, too," McKay muttered, cleaning the wound.
Ronon clenched his jaw as the antiseptic burned across his bicep.
"You didn't have to do that, you know," McKay said, pressing the wipe to the gash in Ronon's arm. He dropped the bloody wipe and pulled a bandage and a roll of gauze from another vest pocket.
"Do what?"
"Hold this," McKay directed, and Ronon held the bandage in place as McKay wound the gauze around his arm. "Tackle me to the ground like that," McKay continued. "If you hadn't done that, you probably wouldn't have been shot, and I wouldn't have even more bruises."
Ronon let go of the bandage and stared out at the camp.
"I'm very good at ducking," McKay continued as he wrapped the gauze around Ronon's arm and tied it off. "Ask anyone."
"Owed a debt," Ronon muttered, never looking at McKay.
"Excuse me?"
Ronon glanced at McKay then focused on one of the men standing over a nearby fire, stirring something in a large pot. "For coming to Sateda. Killing the Wraith. Figuring out how to disarm the tracker."
"You're not serious?"
Ronon turned to McKay and was surprised to see a mix of impatience and frustration in his expression.
"I don't believe this," McKay muttered. He paced a few steps away, shaking his head.
Addie and the man with her took a few hurried steps back as McKay paced.
"I am surrounded by idiots," McKay muttered under his breath, and Ronon was sure McKay was unaware he could hear every word. "Idiots with a death wish."
McKay paused, took a deep breath, and scowled as he walked back to Ronon. "One," He raised a finger, "You didn't seem to think I did much while we were still in the jumper. I seem to recall you hugged Carson for killing that Wraith, not me."
Ronon's memories after Sheppard and Teyla dragged him into the shuttle were fuzzy at best. He remembered McKay saying something about a plan to shoot the Wraith commander. He remembered Beckett's nervous expression when he told Ronon he had fired the drone. After that, everything was a little more than hazy flashes.
"And two," McKay raised a second finger, "I think I told you once before no one is keeping score. We're on the same team. Part of being on a team is doing what you have to to keep your teammates alive. Even I know that." McKay scowled at Ronon. "After a year, I thought you would understand that, too."
Ronon crossed his arms over his chest and tried to ignore the townspeople staring at them.
"There's no owing of debts between teammates," McKay said and shook his head. "Or friends," he muttered under his breath, giving Ronon a hesitant sideways glance. "Next time, just tell me to duck. Save us both some pain."
Ronon was saved from responding when two men walked over to the stockade. One carried a large cast iron pot, the other a stack of shallow wooden bowls. The three guards surrounded the enclosure and raised their weapons.
"Line up," the man with the pot ordered. "Hands on the crossbars where we can see them."
The adults shuffled forward, shepherding the few children in the group, and lined up around the barricade with their hands resting on the crossbars. The smaller children were too short to reach the crossbar, and one of the women gave the men with the rifles a nervous glance, and she wrapped the children's fingers around the vertical bars.
Ronon and McKay mimicked the townspeople and rested their hands on a crossbar.
The man with the bowls waited until everyone was in position, then walked down the line, handing out bowls. The man with the pot followed behind, ladling a portion of thin soup into each bowl.
"Appetising," McKay muttered, staring at his bowl.
Ronon glanced at the few vegetables and chunks of meat floating in the clear broth and shrugged. He'd eaten worse, he reasoned and held the bowl to his lips. He finished the tasteless soup in a few swallows and handed the bowl back to the man on the other side of the bars.
McKay stood staring at his bowl with an expression of distaste.
"You going to eat that?" Ronon asked, pointing to McKay's bowl.
"Do I have a choice?" McKay retorted.
"No."
"Didn't think so," McKay muttered, then raised the bowl to his mouth and drank. "We're supposed to live on that?" he grumbled, handing back the bowl.
"Better than nothing," Ronon replied.
The sun was near the horizon, and the townspeople laid out coats or shawls as makeshift beds.
Ronon waited until the children settled, then sat with his back against the stone wall, watching as a group of men picked up shovels and headed toward the trailhead.
"Where are they going?" McKay asked, sitting beside him.
"Burial detail,' Ronon replied.
McKay glanced at the men. "Oh," he muttered. He picked up a few loose stones and flicked them toward the wooden bars.
It was nearly dark when Kade walked out of the large tent, glanced around, and pointed at Harlan. "Take a couple of men and get the gun ready. I want to start the attack on Dakan as soon as it's full night."
"Why?" McKay muttered.
Ronon glanced at him.
"Why are they only firing the gun at night?" McKay explained, and Ronon saw a far-away expression on his face. He stared into space for several seconds, then snapped his fingers several times. "Of course. Crude solution if you ask me."
"What?"
"It's the heat," McKay replied. "Someone managed to rig up a power supply, sure, but they either didn't know about the heat the gun would discharge or didn't know how to compensate for it. Kade and his men try to mitigate that by waiting until it's dark and the ambient air temperature is cooler."
"That would work?"
McKay shrugged. "Not for very long. They might manage half a dozen shots before the gun was too hot."
Ronon watched Harlan and two others disappear down the trail. "You're sure the cannon won't fire?" Ronon asked.
McKay nodded and picked at the grubby bandage on his hand. "I removed the power coupler."
Ronon gave him a blank look, and McKay sighed.
"With the coupler gone, no energy will get from the power supply to the cannon," McKay told him. "It's useless."
"Until they fix it."
McKay gave him a sideways glance and sighed. "Can't be fixed."
"Why not?"
McKay crossed his arms over his chest. "I had the coupler in my hand right before the horses stampeded. I, umm, dropped it when you shoved me under the cannon."
Ronon put the rest of the pieces together. "It was trampled."
"Probably," McKay said with a tight smile. "The cannon is useless, now." He glanced at the camp and added, "Pretty sure Kade won't be happy when he finds out."
Ronon grunted and stared at Kade pacing around the fire. Would he realise McKay had done something to the weapon? Ronon wondered. If he does, what will he do to McKay? He glanced at the charred remains of the tree, then checked his belt and boot heel.
"What are you doing?" McKay asked.
"Nothing," Ronon replied, tucking a thin blade back into the folds of his belt.
McKay studied him for a few seconds, then unclipped his tac-vest and squirmed out of his jacket. One of the guards walked past their end of the stockade, and McKay froze with one arm still in the jacket's sleeve. The guard stood just outside the enclosure for several seconds, then turned and walked back in the other direction.
McKay blew out a breath, pulled off the jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeve. He tugged the knife free of his shirt and shoved it into Ronon's hand.
"Here. I'm sure you will find a use for it." He gave Ronon a significant glance as he rolled down his sleeve and pulled on his jacket.
Ronon started to object, he had plenty of options when it came to dealing with Kade and his men, but changed his mind.
He knows, Ronon realised. He knows when Kade discovers the gun won't fire, Kade will order his men to come after him.
Ronon flipped the knife over in his hand, then concealed it in the straps of his leather arm brace.
Won't succeed, though, Ronon promised himself.
The sun had set, and the afterglow of light was fading when Ronon heard the crunch of running feet on the path.
"I think they've figured out the gun won't work," McKay said.
"Kade!" Harlan shouted as he ran into camp.
"What?" Kade demanded, pushing aside the tent flap. "I was about to sit down to eat -"
"He probably gets more than thin soup, too," McKay muttered under his breath, and Ronon hid a smile.
"The gun," Harlan gasped and stopped near the fire with his hands on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath. He glanced in the direction of the stockade and lowered his voice. "It ain't workin'."
"What do you mean, it's not working. It worked just fine last night."
Harlan shrugged. "I tried all the usual stuff. Nothing happens."
"Trace!" Kade yelled, glancing at another of the tents. "Get your sorry self out here."
Ronon heard the flutter of tent canvas. A moment later, another man with narrow features and sandy brown hair limped over to the fire and stood facing the stockade. Ronon crept forward, studying the man. Trace stood a few inches taller than Kade and wore a loose-fitting jacket over his shirt. A rope belt held up his trousers.
"Kade," Trace said, nervously twisting his fingers together. "What's wrong?"
"The gun stopped working," Kade replied. "That's what's wrong."
"Oh. Umm." Trace glanced down the trail. "Not sure what I can do. It's too dark now to try and fix it."
Kade growled low in his throat and stepped in front of Trace. "Try anyway. I want that gun working."
"I told you before, if the gun gets too hot, it will seize. You were shooting it a lot last night -"
Kade cuffed the side of Trace's head. "I don't want to hear excuses."
McKay hissed in a breath, and Ronon glanced at him. McKay shook his head and shrugged.
"Umm, okay, Kade," Trace said, holding up his hands. "I'll see what I can do."
"Go with him," Kade ordered Harlan.
Harlan nodded and waited while Trace ducked back into one of the tents. He returned a few seconds later, looping a satchel over his shoulder.
"I'm, umm, ready," Trace said to Kade.
"Go," Kade ordered, waving his hand toward the path. "I want my gun fixed."
Trace nodded and followed Harlan down the trail.
Kade stormed back inside his tent, muttering to himself, and McKay blew out a breath.
"What?" Ronon asked.
McKay shook his head and huddled against the stone wall with his arms wrapped around his chest. "Nothing. It's just …" He paused and stared out at the night. "I just kind of feel sorry for Trace. That's all."
Ronon snorted. "Don't."
"But -"
"Can't help him," Ronon said.
McKay crossed his arms over his chest. "No. Guess not."
The few fires the men in camp had lit slowly died down to embers, plunging the valley into darkness. Ronon sat listening to the slow pacing of the guards as he pondered what to do next.
Assuming Teyla made it back to town, Ronon knew Sheppard wouldn't wait long before coming after them. How many of the townspeople would come with him? Ronon wondered. Considering how easily they wanted to roll over and give in to Kade's demands, Ronon suspected it wouldn't be many. Which meant he needed to come up with a plan to even the odds.