Reminder:
"This is spoken English."
"This is spoken Czech."
This is a thought.

Previously: Major Lorne's team is in such huge trouble (since last chapter). Seriously, I can't stress how much.

Chapter 121. McKay Could Do It.

Radek came to with a horrific headache and the realization that his weapons and vest were gone. He felt his pockets and then around his neck. He still had his ID card and photos on him, but his tags were gone. Damnit, and they were brand new, too. Why someone would take his tags, he didn't—

Oh, no. He heaved a sigh and pressed on his temples, trying to get the headache to go away before getting a closer look at his surroundings.

They didn't look like they were worth looking at anyway.

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

Radek opened one eye to peer at Lorne. "That's one way to put it."

"Throat's raw and head hurts, but I'm sure that'll go away in a few minutes." Major Lorne patted Radek's shoulder while Radek tried to figure out what Major Lorne meant by a "raw throat." Sounded terribly painful. "They won't be looking for us for a while, so might as well get comfortable."

Right. Dog-tags. They—whoever they were—must have put the tags on some other body. That body would have to be far beyond recognition, though. And it would only buy them time. DNA tests on Atlantis didn't take too long. But that meant, for a while anyway, Anna would believe that he was dead.

He could still be dead.

Colonel Sheppard got out of things like this all the time. Radek didn't want to think about how many idiotic stories Rodney told about how they got out of this-and-that situation by the skin of their teeth. Usually, Rodney's intellect was the only thing standing between his team and a gruesome death. At least, that was the way he told it. Radek didn't doubt that he exaggerated most of it, but still…

Radek wasn't cut out for that role.

Why was he here again?

Right. He was Lorne's Rodney. Too bad Lorne didn't realize he got the discounted model that couldn't even speak English half the time.

No, no, no, no. Radek. You're just as good as Rodney. Maybe.

Good enough.

Not helping.

"What happened?"

"Teask and the villagers set us up." Coughlin sounded pretty calm about it. "Those were Genii guns and uniforms. Had no idea die Schweine used smoke grenades, though…"

"Well, they do like explosive things…" Radek mumbled, mildly confused by the German epithet, but he moved past it.

Decently recovered from his headache, Radek looked up and around the cage. There was really nothing to call it except a cage. Outside the cage, frosted windows blocked any clarifying view of their surroundings, but it was apparently nighttime anyway. The walls of their little cage were metal, with holes only large enough to see out. Maybe they could hook their fingers through, but not much else.

Just as Radek drew his attention back inside, he noticed that Reed looked… different.

Terrified and in pain as he muttered all the English curses Radek ever heard and then some.

Major Lorne took notice, too. "What is it, Reed?" When he didn't answer, Major Lorne crossed the cage to kneel beside him. "Chris?"

"I think we've got a problem, sir." Reed's voice shook as he looked down toward his belly in horror. He lifted his shirt, and Radek leaned in to see what had him so shaken.

A small laceration, less than two inches in length, cut diagonally across his torso just above his navel. The surgery may or may not have been carried out by a medical professional, judging by the stitching job holding the flesh together. The wound looked clean, but it was also fresh and weeping.

Major Lorne almost hid his small gasp when he first saw it.

Radek didn't. He immediately patted his own shirt, but found that he didn't feel any different, even if he was dressed in different clothes than he'd left in, same as Major Lorne and the others. That was concerning enough on its own. Still, he couldn't feel any evidence of recent surgery, certainly not the caliber of that Reed received.

"Coughlin?" Major Lorne asked.

Coughlin rolled up his sleeve and showed a series of punctures in his arm. Some were bruised, like the phlebotomist hadn't cared or wasn't well-trained enough to draw blood from the unconscious. "Me, too, sir. Radar?"

Radek shrugged and carefully went over his legs and arms without much success. Or perhaps he was successful, because he found no new pains or aches. "Nothing," he said helplessly. "I have nothing; I'm fine."

"Don't sound so damned disappointed," Reed muttered, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"I wasn't…" Radek said, his voice trailing away.

They knew he wasn't disappointed. He was confused. What about Reed and Coughlin specifically would provoke such a barbaric attack? Major Lorne said nothing for a long while, and everyone quietly contemplated the problem. Reed was actually probably contemplating his navel, which was a much more dire circumstance than the phrase usually meant.

"They at least got some of my blood, too…" Major Lorne said quietly.

"You three?" Radek stepped back and looked at them. "And not me."

He hated to admit it—and it made him afraid to do so—but right now they didn't look like the indomitable men he'd stepped through the Stargate with. They looked beaten and terrified, for lack of better words. Radek supposed he would be, too, if he woke up to find he'd had surgery he hadn't signed up for. Even Coughlin, usually so stoic, looked downright enraged.

Radek sighed. "It's the gene."

The drug of drowsiness was apparently wearing off Reed quickly, his teeth gritting against the pain. "The gene?" he repeated, maybe just to keep from groaning.

"You three have it." Radek looked at each of them, and then at his own hands, as if he could see whether or not he had the ATA gene simply by looking at his skin. "I don't." He was sure that wasn't the only difference between them, but it was the most immediately available reason he could think of. Also the most valuable reason.

"Damnit." Lorne put his forehead in his hand. "That's why Teask asked about you. He didn't know any of us, but he asked about you. Because they didn't want you."

Radek nodded slowly. "Yes…" He was lucky they didn't just kill him.

Major Lorne rubbed at his neck idly, looking concerned as he watched Reed. Coughlin only took a few seconds to inspect his arm before moving on, once again adopting that austere visage Radek was much more comfortable with.

Reed shut his eyes and seemed to fold up on himself. Radek didn't know if it was more the pain or fear getting to him. Maybe a combination of both, though Radek had to imagine Reed's training covered this area much more than Radek's idle thoughts while waiting for simulation results to come back. Radek didn't care what kind of training somebody got—this was terrifying. None of them knew what they'd done to Reed: taken things out, put things in?

If it really was the gene, then probably take things out. The stomach lining was a good location for it, but going at it from the outside like that wouldn't be Radek's first thought. He doubted the Genii knew exactly what they were doing. Wasn't the inside of the cheek a good place? But if they wanted to put something in, why not take the opportunity?

Coughlin muttered another German curse as he stood and went to the grated wall. "Okay. What's the plan?"

Major Lorne knelt next to Reed, staying quiet. Probably because he knew they had to get out of here, but he couldn't see how. Couldn't say his hopes were low, especially if they continued to be poked, prodded, and dissected.

Radek wasn't being dissected, though. Which meant it came down to him, didn't it?

He could do it. He was sure. After all, Sheppard's team had been on Wraith cruisers, locked in underground labyrinths, attacked by bugs, nearly fed upon by Wraith, and chased around a forest by their drug-addicted former-teammate. They had the worst luck in the universe coupled by the best luck in the universe.

Surely the universe would be okay with sharing some of that good luck if it gave them this much bad luck in the space of just a few hours. If it had been hours.

"Well," Radek offered, going to the door of their makeshift Industrial-age prison. "I'm not going to sit here and wait until Rodney comes to break us out."

Despite their dire circumstances, Major Lorne chuckled. Even Reed smiled.

"There's some motivation if I ever heard it. Let me know if you need anything."

#

Rodney wasn't sure if it was the smell in here that was making him sick or something else. Atlantis's airflow system was actually very good, so… it was probably something else and he was just imagining things. Imagining the assault on his senses when the team came upon the charred remains of the stone structures, and the one door barred from the outside. Carson stood less than a meter away.

Rodney stood to one side, trying not to look at the plastic black bags and the white tags identifying which was which. After the fact, after seeing the dog tags, Rodney realized that three of the bodies were a little larger than the fourth. Beyond that, Rodney guessed only DNA tests could tell the difference. Well beyond recognition. But even though the dog tags were crusty and black with soot, they were still legible.

But it was quiet in here. Quiet except for Anna's breathing and the medical team's periodic mumblings.

Anna took one solid step, speechless, to the foot of the table he stood beside. She had to see it now. She had to. She reached out, caught the tag between her fingers and looked at it.

R Zelenka.

Rodney was incredibly aware of the movement in the room, incredibly aware of Carson's eyes on them as he paused his inspection of Lorne's body a couple dozen feet away. He'd stopped them before they came in, said all the same things that Rodney did, trying to get Anna to leave. Trying to tell her that this was something she just didn't want to see.

Anna took a step back and wrapped her arms around herself. "I want to see him."

"No."

Anna looked at him, but Carson was firm. His face was expressionless, and he stared right at her. He wasn't budging on it. Rodney steeled himself to back him up, regardless of her reaction, but she didn't say anything. What was he really going to say, though? No, because… because he didn't want to see?

Carson carefully put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me know if you need anything, dear."

She nodded, and Carson walked away.

Rodney watched her for a second. She started mumbling, and it took him longer than he would have liked to admit for him to realize she was speaking Czech. He was glad he couldn't understand her.

Rodney turned away from the table and wandered toward the desk on the far wall where Carson was standing now. Fiddled with the tablet on it. Rodney got close enough to see was an autopsy form with Evan Lorne written at the top.

Evan? That was his name? Cliché, but Rodney sometimes seriously believed his first name was Major.

"How's it looking, Carson?" Rodney tried to ask conversationally.

Carson sighed and gave him a look. What that look said… Rodney wasn't interested in interpreting. He wasn't being insensitive. Maybe he was. These bodies were just collections of carbon and atoms. Anything that he didn't know personally.

If there was one thing he wanted to be right now, it was insensitive.

"Well… I don't get it," Carson said quietly, maybe so that Anna wouldn't hear. "From the attitude of the bodies, it looks like they were all dead before they were burned. Not sure how yet, though."

Burning alive. That would be awful. Rodney hadn't thought about it.

Carson sighed. "That's a mercy, I suppose."

"How do you know?"

Carson adopted that expression he did when he was explaining something, teaching someone. "Well, usually, when people are—" He sighed and gestured helplessly at Lorne's body, the expression melting from his eyes. At least, for a second, anyway, he forgot that he knew these people, too. "You know what, Rodney? I'd rather not go into the details of what happens to a person that's burned alive, okay? The point is they were dead before that. Thank god."

"I guess." Rodney stuffed his hands in his pockets. Maybe Carson couldn't hear it. Anna was still crying, so Rodney wasn't thanking anyone. "What are we gonna do, huh?" Rodney let his eyes flicker up to Carson's. "Carson?"

Carson always knew what to do with things like this, right? People liked him. He knew people. He was a doctor, so surely he'd know…

Carson shrugged. "I don't know."

Some help he was. Rodney was used to having solutions. Used to having a couple dozen, half of which wouldn't work in a million years, but he could keep in reserve in case the situation became that desperate. But nothing here would work. Not in a million years. Even though he was desperate.

"Can I finish?" Carson asked. "Or do you have more questions?"

"Not the kind that can be answered, I guess." Rodney wandered away under Carson's apologetic look.

Rodney couldn't tell Carson how horrible he felt about all this. Why did he feel this bad? People died on a fairly regular basis on Atlantis, but this was different. And not just because of Anna.

But why was Anna different? It wasn't because she was young. Rodney hated kids. But he didn't hate Anna. But Anna wouldn't be here much longer. She'd go back to live with Zelenka's sister and Rodney would probably never see her again.

Why did that bother him?

Rodney stood a few feet away. Anna had stopped talking, her face turned down toward the floor. A full minute later, Rodney noticed tears on her face. He must have made a noise of some kind, because she wiped her eyes and turned to him.

"Okay, I'm ready."

Rodney nodded, waited for her to lead the way out of the morgue. The silence was deafening for too long, and he could think of nowhere he'd rather be than his lab. Burying himself in models, equations, ideas that would never work but were diverting anyway. Nobody, even him, would approve of his leaving Anna alone right now.

To fill the silence, Rodney picked up his pace to walk a little closer to her. Not quite next to her. But almost. "Hey, uh, Anna…" What was he saying? What was he thinking?

This was his fault? He couldn't honestly be thinking that, no matter how true it was. He didn't light the match, but he might as well have. What an idiotic idea—suggesting that Radek bring Anna to Atlantis with him.

But he didn't care then. He wanted things to stay the same, hated change. Things would be different with Anna around, but as long as Radek kept swearing at him in Czech and taking care of all the boring stuff Rodney didn't want to touch, he could adjust to that little bit of change. Anna could adjust, and even if she couldn't… Rodney didn't care. It wasn't his problem.

Was he insane?

"What is it?" Anna asked finally. She turned a corner, and Rodney didn't know where they were going.

"I'm sorry. I'm—I just…" He hung his head. He said it. He meant it. Maybe for the first time in his life. Maybe he said it and meant it other times, but this time… this time he really did. "This is my fault, and I… I'm really sorry."

Anna lifted her eyes to look at him. She caught in a little breath. "What?"

"You wouldn't be here if… Look, it was my idea to bring you here. Radek would've never come up with that if not for me. He didn't, I mean…" Oh, yeah. This was going well. He shook his head and soldiered on.

Anna had fallen silent. Maybe if she could blame him for this, maybe she'd feel a little less sad.

That was stupid. Worth a try, though. "I pulled all the strings. I set up all the paperwork. I bullied Radek into getting what I wanted." And what did he want? Someone to do the boring stuff, someone to throw under the bus, someone to count on for foreign obscenities and safe ideas that Rodney could turn into brilliant ones. "And then I recommended him for the 'gate team." He took a sharp breath. "Why did I do that?"

The better question was, why hadn't he recommended Radek last year when the question first came up?

Because he didn't even think of Radek last year. That was why. Something happened between last year and this year, and Rodney wasn't sure what it was. Was he just thinking of him because he was even weirder than usual now? He had a daughter on Atlantis, after all. That was noteworthy.

Because Radek was weird. He was really weird. And Rodney was going to miss that.

"Probably," she said quietly, "because he's a better shot than you are. I mean, he, um…" She lowered her eyes. Stopped talking. Stopped walking.

"Hey, hey, uh…" Rodney didn't know what he was doing when he patted her shoulder.

"I'm okay. Really. I am." She covered her eyes with her palms and sobbed.

She wasn't okay. Why would she be?

Rodney really didn't know what he was doing when he put his arm around her in the middle of the empty hallway. There wasn't really anything he could say, either. Things just weren't going to be okay.

"What's going to happen to me?" she asked quietly after the sobbing lessened.

Rodney nodded. A reasonable question, and finally one he could answer. "You'll go back to Earth. Live with your aunt."

He watched her for some shadow of a favorable response, which he didn't get. And why should she be at all pleased about that? Rodney was sure that Anna's aunt loved her, but… would Radek's sister have the capacity to give Anna the education she needed? Certainly not the education she'd get here, not the education she deserved. Rodney couldn't imagine sending Anna back to Earth to endure the monotony of public schooling, no matter which country it was in.

"Listen," Rodney mumbled. "You have to promise me that you won't give up on science, okay?"

Anna said nothing.

Rodney wouldn't blame her if she hated science at the moment. "You're smart, you know, and you shouldn't lose that just because I made a mistake." A bunch of mistakes. "You could even work with the SGC someday. You're that smart and… well, I guess you know I don't say that a lot, but when I do, it's…"

He paused when Anna shook her head. Finally a response. But he had no idea what that meant. Maybe she hated the idea. "I don't… I don't want…" Her voice broke off.

Don't want… what? Don't want to work with the Stargate, alien tech, spaceships? That invariably led to death, destruction, and depression. Anna was too smart to let that happen. Rodney could understand that. "You wouldn't even have to work for SGC or anything like that, you know. You could do anything. But you shouldn't give up," he finished.

"But I want to…" she whispered. "I want to work for SGC."

Rodney glanced down at her. She raised her eyes. He looked away as soon as their eyes met. He couldn't let her go back to Earth, just like that, could he?

Well, he might have to. It wasn't his choice, but it wasn't fair. She was Radek's daughter, and Radek had the right to decide what was best for her.

Radek was wrong. Earth wasn't best for her.

Anna may have been Radek's daughter, but she was Rodney's student. It would be a long road for her to become anything at all like him, if she ever did… She had the unfortunate circumstance of Radek's genetic incapability. She was going to make it close, though. Rodney hadn't realized until he started working with her himself, seeing her working out problems and simulations, how much she was starting to see things like he saw them. How much he had to give someone who wasn't messed up by preconceived notions that were one-hundred percent wrong. He'd finally caught someone who could work for him before they turned into a moron. He didn't realize that was what kids were: morons that could be redirected.

He'd never think of Anna as anything less than his responsibility now.

Rodney shook his head. "You will. Someday. I'll hold the door open for you." Unless…

She didn't want to go back to Earth. That was what she was trying to say, wasn't it?

Stop coming up with idiotic ideas, McKay. Look where the last one got you.

"But if you wanted to stay on Atlantis, I'd… I guess, I'd do whatever I could to make sure that happened." Better to not let her mind get twisted by Earth's politics and lies. Atlantis was the most honest place Rodney could think of in two galaxies.

That might explain his behavior right now.

Anna sniffed and seemed to think about that for a long time. Finally she said, "You would?"

What was he thinking? Who would take care of her? Radek was a terrible parent. Rodney would be even worse. Elizabeth! Elizabeth? She would probably do better at the whole "parent" thing, and she cared about Anna. Didn't she? Didn't all of them care about Anna? At least a little? Didn't the saying go that it took a village? They had a village. A sometimes brilliant, and sometimes socially inept village.

It would require going against Radek's wishes for the thing he cared about most in the universe. Rodney wasn't sure he could do that. But it was what Anna wanted.

And if Radek wanted what was best for Anna, he'd agree. Atlantis was the best place for her.

"I'd try."

#

The floor was becoming comfortable. That was when Radek thought he might belong here. He'd had nightmares about this kind of thing as a child. Of course, the bogeymen in his dreams were Russians in muddy-green buttoned uniforms. He'd learned, though. He wouldn't complain, and mental strength was more important than physical. That was probably why he was where he was…

Not physically. Metaphorically. Why he was a scientist and not a major or something.

He might hide when the trouble started, but even that was rebellious in its own way. He wasn't going to roll over. Nothing was more irritating than an enemy that just wouldn't die. And he wasn't going to watch his friends be killed.

Friends. Why did it take until they were all locked in a cage for him to see it?

They played poker together, they drank beers together, faced danger, talked about work and women. Coughlin, Reed, and Lorne couldn't have been more different from him, but he didn't realize until just now the lengths he'd go to get them out of this. He'd contemplated the lengths and knew what he'd end up doing. He was surprised how short that pep talk had been. He'd kill someone if he had to.

And not just by researching, building, or providing a weapon. He did that all the time; that was his job. At least, it used to be.

Of course, there was the bit of self-preservation to help him along, but Reed was on a timeline.

Radek cast a glance over his shoulder at Reed, even though he didn't need any more encouragement. Two days drained the color out of his face. He didn't look tan and fit anymore. Heck, Radek could probably carry him out of here himself.

"How's it going, Doc?" Lorne asked quietly, wandering over to stand by Radek at his routine seat by the door.

Lorne developed a schedule of sorts, probably to lull the guards into a false sense of security. Radek hadn't meant to count, but he'd realized these last few days that counting was one of his better coping mechanisms. There were lots of things he could do while counting, like build a battery, but there were lots of things he couldn't do, like focus on fear and anxiety. Like something akin to clockwork, when they weren't sleeping, Lorne would cross the floor and stand next to his seat at the back corner of the cage. He'd spend five minutes talking to Radek, usually about nothing, before moving onto Coughlin. He'd spend most of his minutes at Reed's side, talking about sports and other inane topics when he was awake and staring at the floor when he wasn't.

Radek imagined he was actually making some keen observation about guard rotations or something that Radek didn't have the presence of mind to realize existed until right now. He had other things to focus on.

Taking the opportunity to break his concentration and breathe, Radek shook out his hands. His fingers were bleeding and he was going cross-eyed. "Not bad," he said anyway. With a brief nod at Reed and a glance up at Lorne he asked, "How is Chris?"

Radek went back to his battery. Or something. He hadn't used this type of Genii power-converter himself, but he'd seen schematics. The lab at the end of his hallway spent several months pulling one of these things apart and putting it back together, so… one of them might have been a better asset on this mission, but who knew?

Clearly their captors thought this one didn't work and… well, it didn't. Not really. But nothing that couldn't be fixed. Probably. He shocked himself earlier, so that was a good sign.

"Good enough."

"And you?" Radek looked up when Lorne spoke.

He sounded tired, looked tired. Radek had every confidence that all of them would make it out of this alive; Rodney had done more with less for a year. Surely Radek could do the same or better with the treasure trove of rusted and neglected tech sitting around outside their cage.

Lorne suddenly knelt beside him. "Just tell me your plan's gonna work."

"Yeah, yeah, I mean…" Radek held up two of the wires he'd been painfully twisting together. He looked at their metal enclosure and the empty warehouse-like room beyond. No guards, only the one that delivered their food every now and again. Not on any sort of meal schedule, that was for sure. "Yeah, this'll kill somebody."

His first kill. Via battery-or-something-like-it. Seemed appropriate.

Lorne's lips pinched together, and he looked beyond the chicken wire. "Good." With that, he stood up and crossed the floor back to his station next to Reed.

Radek wasn't going to have a chance to test it, but they decided to go ahead with the plan anyway. Radek was to wait until the guard that delivered their food opened the door. The whole cage was made of metal. It might have been a good move, since metal was really difficult to break… but it was also a pretty good conductor.

It wasn't until later that night when the door on the other end of the warehouse opened and the guard approached. The food they were given often was obviously somebody's leftovers. Sometimes it was half-eaten and soggy sandwich-like confections, other times it looked like a bowl of tossed whatever-was-left-on-a-table. Radek couldn't wait to get back and have some real food.

He'd have to kill someone first.

Radek waited, his head down, to listen. The key in the lock clattered and scraped on the internal mechanisms. The hinges squeaked. Radek tipped the battery over onto the bare wire.

The guard didn't even scream. Radek looked up in time to see him convulse for a second longer before his battery ran out of juice. The guard didn't collapse the way he'd expected… he sort of crumbled like a stuffed toy, the glass bowl in his hand shattering just a second before he hit the ground. The current running through his body a second earlier prevented him from dropping it.

Lorne was next to him a second later, rolling him over and grabbing his gun.

"Is he… did I…? Radek looked down at the guard on the floor, up at Lorne, and down again. When it came down to it… he didn't want to kill anybody. Not a specific, single person, not on purpose.

Lorne's hand quickly darted to the guard's neck, two fingers pressed up under his jaw. He glanced up at Radek, and, for a second, Radek knew what he was going to say. He's dead. You killed him.

Good job?

Radek couldn't stop staring at the man on the floor. The man whose life he took, whose gun Lorne took, whose uniform shirt Reed was taking right now to cover up the blood on his shirt.

Suddenly, Lorne shook his head and he drew his hand away. "No. He'll be fine. Let's go find the 'gate."

Radek didn't have time to think about it, though. Coughlin was pulling him up off the floor and dragging him over the body and past the open door. They crept through the warehouse, a single gun among them, but he could see Coughlin and Reed surveying the stacked boxes they walked past for anything that could count as a weapon. Coughlin picked up what looked like a pipe. Though Radek could now tell that Reed had been feigning the worst of it, he still didn't seem very well.

They stopped at the door on the other end of the warehouse. It was the only door they'd seen on their walk… which meant that their enemies were right on the other side and possibly wondering where their friend was and why he'd not come back yet. They were running out of time and had few options.

"Okay…" Lorne took a deep breath, and looked at them.

"I'll go first," Reed said, buttoning his borrowed shirt. "Maybe buy you few seconds."

Radek broke away from Coughlin's grip for a moment, looking up at the windows six meters over their heads. That wasn't a realistic option, but anything was worth a thought. Especially since Reed was effectively offering to sacrifice himself on the slim change the rest of them would manage to dodge and fight their way through the rest of them.

"This is a bad plan," Radek mumbled.

"We're already here. Doc, stay with Coughlin. Reed…"

"Sir." Reed stood a little taller and put one hand on the door.

It opened before he could pull on it.

Reed stumbled back, losing his footing since his balance wasn't that great to start with. Reed coughed and sucked in a breath with a groan.

The guard that came to investigate had enough of his wits together to shout, "Hey!"

Major Lorne took quick and careful aim, the words in the Genii's throat cut off with a bullet in his head. The guard dropped to the floor; Major Lorne pulled the gun off his hip and tossed it to Coughlin.

Radek wasn't sure what happened next. What seemed like a dozen Genii rushed in the door, and Major Lorne and Coughlin couldn't keep up. Coughlin kept shoving Radek backwards along the wall they'd come by, shooting and pausing only long enough to make sure his substandard weapon wouldn't jam on him.

Reed was on his stomach under the boot of a Genii. Radek was too busy trying to dodge bullets to hear what he was shouting.

The only thing that mattered to him right now was finding something to hide behind. Their trail along the wall hadn't been exactly full of cover. Right down the middle of the warehouse, though, crates and boxes stood stacked four and five high: Radek could be twice as tall and stand behind them without peeking over. Without thinking too much of it, he took the first opportunity he could to run behind one of the crates.

Coughlin shouted at him, but Radek couldn't understand… maybe it was German…

A sharp pain ripped into his chest.

Radek stumbled, and the floor was red.

Czech Things

*Where are you?

-Not Czech, but I'm not German, either! In case you hadn't guessed. And I can't even be trusted to know American English epithets, really. But, according to tha Googél, calling someone a pig in German is, like, the most offensivest. Not that we call our friends pigs in English or anything, but apparently really don't do that in German. Either way, I feel like Coughlin would be the most offensivest here, even considering the relatively tame (English) vulgarities on the show. Though I was watching a few episodes the other day out of my order and I was so surprised we apparently say "son of a bitch" here. I'm so used to the 90s Star Trek limits of "hell" and "damn." Enough rambling from me.

A/N: Yeah, they've been experimenting with the Atlantis expedition team. Yeah, I kicked it up to eleven (or… eight, I guess). They're not doing cheek swabs here. Whatever the case, they have Major Lorne's team to collect Ancient gene samples. And I'm quite sure… they didn't know what that meant until very recently. I excuse myself by simply amplifying that.
Also, also. Rodney? Seems mildly out of character, but isn't that what people we love do to us? We all act mildly out of character sometimes.

Thank yous

Adela - Thanks, I'm happy you liked it! (Nice to see you again!)

Ghost - Yay, I'm so glad you liked it! I hope you like this one as much. And I can neither confirm nor deny the topic of her next project... considering she's still in the middle of one that has to do with, like, orange rocks or something. And I'll neither confirm nor deny whether these projects are related.

Next: In this context, I guess it doesn't sound very nice for me to say I'm glad it's you.