Chapter 25: Emergency Dial Out

"All the LSDs are accounted for," Rodney said, examining the new one that had showed up in John's office. Side by side, it looked practically identical to the previous life sign detectors. The map though was more recently updated – with markers for different rooms that hadn't been present before. It wasn't an update any one in the city had knowingly put through. "Wherever he got it, Atlantis made this one specially for him."

John raised an eyebrow. "Atlantis?"

"It's coded to him." Rodney poked at the screen once more, trying to get it to change. He handed it over to John, and it lit up appropriately, reorienting to their current position and direction. "Or to a strong gene carrier."

"Right." Because that was just what they needed. More Ancient technology that preferred certain gene carriers over others. "And have you figured out where he went?"

Rodney waved his hand in Zelenka's direction. "Yes, yes, show him what you found."

"Security camera in the corridor caught Alex leaving his quarters just after 2100 hours." Zelenka clicked onto a screenshot of Alex, stepping out of his quarters. Notably, Private Martins was nowhere in sight.

Perfect, another person he was going to have to question.

"Can see device is in his hands." Zelenka pointed at a rather blurry section of the screenshot and John took his word for it. It meant that Alex had likely picked up the device earlier in the day. "Ten minutes later, camera in sector L2 picked him up." Another blurry picture, but unmistakably Alex. "At thirty, he has made it to sector K3. Presumably on foot, because he should have been much faster if in transporter." This time, the screenshot was practically blacked out.

"And it's so dark…?"

"Routine after-hours lab shutdown."

John wracked his mind, trying to remember which patrol routes had been run the night before. "There should've been a patrol through there."

Zelenka flipped to another picture, time stamped just a few seconds later. Only faint silhouettes and flashlight beams were visible. "He hid from them, somewhere in here."

"Either your marines are blind, or he's good." Rodney added, leaning over John's shoulder, trying to get a better look. "And since he went and got beaten up, I'm really not sure which."

"Five minutes later, camera catches him on second level of Sector J. Enters room, a patrol passes, he leaves room. Goes down to first level. And that's it, until he stumbles out of transporter in sector L5, one hour later." Instead of a still picture, Zelenka played a short five second clip that just shows Alex crumpling to the ground in the doors of the transporter, and Lorne appearing.

There was no resolution or detail visible in the grainy video, but John had no doubt that Lorne's expression was pure panic. Just watching the short clip made his heart clench. "And during that hour?"

Zelenka blew out a long breath. "First level cameras are wiped, starting 2100 until 2300." He shook his head. "Cannot recover, because person got to them before automatic backup to personal private server."

Someone who knew exactly what they were doing.

John pinched the bridge of his nose. This was just getting worse and worse. "Alright… who on this base has the skills and knowledge to… do that."

"Aside from Rodney or myself?" Zelenka glanced at Rodney for a brief moment. "No one should be aware of backups. But… anyone with knowledge of security systems could have done it. Will have left a trace I can find, but it will take time." He hesitated, before flipping to another screenshot. "Sergeant Jamison and team entered Sector I at 2220, from direction of Sector J."

And while the details were lacking, it was clear that they had come, as a unit, from some sort of training. The only problem – in a sea of problems – was that Sector J currently had no rooms cleared for use. Some scientists and marines used the first level as a thoroughfare between Sector I and K, but that was it.

"What room did Alex go into on level 2?"

Zelenka's mouth set in a firm line. "I sent your Lieutenant to investigate. Room leads to balcony overlooking improvised training area. Initial team found signs of blood, but analysis hasn't been completed."

There are so many words to unpack in that sentence and John narrowly resisted the urge to bang his head on his desk. They were going to have to do a careful sweep of the entire sector, just to make sure that no one else had gotten any bright ideas and tried to hide something else in his city.

Alex had gone into the room to escape a patrol, then gone down to the first floor where he had interacted with… somebody. All the signs were pointing to Jamison and his group at this point. And then, after doing whatever it was they had done, someone, either in Jamison's group or paid off by him, had gone in and wiped the evidence.

What John didn't understand was why Alex had voluntarily gone into the room. Why had he put himself in proximity to Jamison, when he could've easily taken off?

This was far outside John's skill set. They were going to have to make an emergency dial in to earth, regardless of whether Dr. Florence agreed to treat Alex. They were going to need real investigators and lawyers and… John slouched in his chair and rested his head in his hands. "Wake me up when this nightmare is over."

"Colonel Sheppard?"

John looked up from the stream of reports, files, and notes he was trying to organize on his desk, to see Woolsey at his door.

Just what he didn't need.

He waved Woolsey in, before turning back to the stack of reports Lorne had just dropped off. Interviews with all of Sergeant Jamison's unit, after carefully informing them of their rights and that they were all involved in an investigation for assault on a civilian. Not arrested, yet, but all confined to separate quarters for the time being. He had left Sergeant Pilkes in charge of their detention in the hopes that someone could maintain some level of neutrality. He was turning a blind eye to the fact that Sergeant Pilkes and his team were the ones most likely to be seen in Alex's company. They knew better than to risk his wrath and the integrity of the investigation.

It was a mess.

Private Diver had confirmed that Alex and Sergeant Jamison had had a slight altercation earlier in the day, but denied knowing what it was about. Private Martins had admitted to wandering down the hall and chatting with Dr. Floyd, one of the microbiologists. That was at least likely to only need disciplinary action, but he was never going to be put on guard duty for Alex again and would likely be shipped back to the SGC when the reinforcements finally arrived.

"I was rather surprised when you sent Major Lorne with the news that several of your marines are under investigation for assault," Woolsey said delicately. "And that all off-world travel is suspended."

John stretched his neck, before setting the notes aside, slipping them under less sensitive documents. "I'm sure you realize that assault is a rather weighty crime."

"Yes, however you have the marines of interest… in custody. There are important trades—"

"Mr. Woolsey, until I'm assured that there are no other complicit marines, I am not risking my men or the civilians in this city by sending them off-world." Because by now, anyone involved had seen the writing on the wall. They were going to be found. If he let them off city, even inadvertently, they would likely disappear just as quickly. "Trade activities are suspended. I'm sure our potential allies would rather us deal with our problems, rather than potentially off-loading them on them."

Woolsey's jaw set and his mouth turned down in a sharp line. "And these, accusations?"

John crossed his arms. "Facts, not accusations. In fact, the victim hasn't accused any one at all. However, certain evidence has come to light that grievous bodily harm was committed on a civilian and a certain subset of marines were the last to see him, through their own admission, at a time after the injuries were discovered." Take that, lawyer speak.

He may or may not have learned a few gems while going through his own court martial. Making others think that he had told them everything, while really, giving them the bare bones.

Woolsey's brow furrowed. "Those are serious accusations."

"Which is why we're completing due process as much as possible, before turning things over to the SGC." Because there were many details that were far beyond what they could cover on city. But tracking down all the parties that were involved… that they could do.

"And the victim?"

Not the term that John preferred to use, because he was pretty sure Alex gave as good as he got – for as long as he was physically able. "Dr. Florence and Dr. Beckett will consult with Dr. Lam when we dial in with earth to determine if Alex can be successfully treated on base."

There was a slight tensing of his posture at the mention of Alex, so that confirmed that that piece of information hadn't leaked out of the infirmary yet.

Good.

"Will this turn into a staffing issue?"

John couldn't help but gape at him. "Mr. Woolsey, we have a teenager in the infirmary with a serious injury, and you're worried about the loss of marines?"

"Rider should never have been brought onto the city."

John carefully cleared his expression. "If you have concerns, feel free to speak with General O'Neill. I'm more concerned with having marines that don't assault people they don't like. Doesn't go over well with the allies, you know?"

Woolsey let out a sharp breath, before abruptly turning to leave. "Rider is proving that he's trouble. Where was his escort? Why was he off alone? If he can't follow simple rules in the city, then maybe we need to rethink his presence here."

Why, he— John clenched his fists, then let out a long breath. Victim-blaming. And Alex would have things to answer for, once he was capable. But just because he had been breaking the rules, didn't mean that he deserved to be injured. Didn't mean he deserved to be attacked.

John was pretty sure he had gained a bunch of gray hairs the moment Alex had stepped foot on the city. Since he had landed himself in the infirmary, John was pretty sure he had gained another handful.

"How is he doing?"

Carson and another doctor, Dr. Florence, were reviewing charts and scans in Carson's office. No doubt coming up with a precise list of questions to hurl at Dr. Lam the moment the wormhole connected.

"As good as can be, I suspect." Carson sighed, before running a hand across his face. "The lad spiked a fever a few hours ago, so we've added an antibiotic to his mix, to hopefully stave anything off. He's been a good sport about it, all things considered."

"And getting any coherent answers out of him?" Because the last time John had stopped by, Alex had been slipping in and out of awareness rather quickly. Trying to hold a conversation with him had been nigh on impossible.

"Oh, nae, the painkillers won't allow that. And every time we try pulling them back, he ends up with spasms and vomiting making everything worse."

John grimaced. Yeah, that wasn't usually a good thing. "Look, when you get the go ahead, we need to talk to him about that sub cue. He's been reasonable about everything else so far. If we can just—"

"You're not thinking about dropping that on him in the midst of all this!" Carson sounded appalled.

"If he had had it, then I would have proof to place him right next to Sergeant Jamison at the time of the attack." John clenched his fists and carefully kept himself from biting off Carson's head. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't Alex's fault either. It was just… Atlantis couldn't differentiate between different life signs. Didn't keep a record in the database either. But they had programmed certain sensors to overlay sub cue signals with life signs detected by Atlantis. It just didn't record unknown life signs.

A major flaw that Rodney was already working on fixing. Who knew what could've happened when they had allies on the city.

"You don't have to threaten or coerce him, just…"

"I think you're the one that's going to have to have that conversation with him," Carson said gently. "He may trust me more than he did, but you're still the one that helped him in the first place."

John clenched his jaw, but nodded. Just add it to the endless list of conversations he was due to have in the next few days. He hadn't even seen Teyla or Ronon, and had hardly seen Rodney. There was no telling what the other civilians on the city even knew about what all was happening. Woolsey was probably going to make a formal complaint. Dr. Madsen had somehow been wrangled away from all of it, but that wasn't likely to last long.

In short, it was all rapidly falling apart.

"We're dialing out in ten minutes." John paused at the doorway, casting another glance in Alex's direction. There were times he really wished he wasn't the highest authority on the city. "Make sure you're prepared for the secure conference. Chuck will patch you through."

He all but jogged out of the infirmary and took the long route up to the command center, using the time to gather his thoughts and figure out how he was going to explain it all to Mitchell without disclosing some vital piece of confidential information. And how to tip off O'Neill that trouble was brewing as well.

Woolsey was already waiting in the command center for the dial out and John suppressed his unease. He was going to have to filter everything he said.

"Ready, Chuck?" John asked, stepping around Rodney who was fiddling with another computer and wires.

"Once Dr. McKay finishes getting the secure connection to the infirmary."

"Ah, hah!"

John clapped his hands together, taking that as a sign that they were good to go. "Alright, let's get this show on the road." Woolsey was side-eyeing him, but John ignored it. "Dial it up, Chuck."

There was a definite fission of nerves as Chuck input the sequence one by one, each chevron lighting up one after another. He had no doubt there would be nerves on the other end of the wormhole in just a few moments, seeing Atlantis dialing in.

The eighth chevron locked and the wormhole burst into life.

"Sending IDC." After a moment, Chuck nodded in his direction. "You have a go, sir."

"SGC, this is Colonel John Sheppard. I need to speak with General Mitchell on a rather urgent matter and need a secondary secure line to Dr. Lam."

After a long moment, there was a crackle. "Affirmative Atlantis. General Mitchell is being paged. Routing… eh, five, three, niner for the secure line. Dr. Lam is being paged as well."

John glanced over in Chuck's direction, who threw him a thumbs up. Hopefully that meant the line had gone through to the infirmary successfully.

"Sheppard?" That was a rather quick response, though John supposed it did help to have his office right next to the command center. There were perks to having an office further away though… "What's going on?"

Almost as no-nonsense as O'Neill, which was a distinct relief. "We've got ourselves a bit of a… sticky situation here, General Mitchell." There, that should cue him in that everything he said was being watched. Broadcast. Listened to.

"You haven't run amok of some of our favorite friends, have you?" Trust? Goa'uld?

"No, sir. It's more of an Article 32, type problem."

"Oh, hell," Mitchell sounded horrified.

John had no doubt that that slipped through without meaning. "We're sending through the evidence we've gathered so far. If you feel that it warrants further investigation, then we'd like to cross that bridge within the next twenty-four hours, sir." And hopefully, if Dr. Lam recommended they wait on surgery until a specialist could get to Atlantis, Mitchell would think to send them through with the investigator.

"Of course, I'll review it immediately." There was a long pause as he no doubt skimmed over the document that John had marked 'READ FIRST'. Even then, it had been heavily sanitized, just in case it got into the wrong hands. "Six marines? On charges for assault?"

"Yes, sir." Thankfully this wasn't news to anyone in the command center and they all knew better than to spread it. It would no doubt spread like wildfire when the investigator came through.

"We will contact you within the next six hours."

John almost let out a sigh of relief. Six hours was much better than he had been expecting. Likely, Mitchell already had someone in mind for investigating.

"Walter says you have someone conferencing with Dr. Lam. Is there anything else we need to know?"

John chose his words carefully. "I'm sure she'll speak with you if it's relevant." He very much wanted to pass on a warning that Woolsey was becoming increasingly suspicious, but couldn't exactly do that standing right next to him. Hopefully Carson would mention something, since he had kicked Woolsey out of the infirmary twice already.

"Very well," Mitchell sounded slightly aggrieved. "If there's nothing else, I'll get back to you—"

"General Mitchell!"

Ah, there was Woolsey.

"Please remind General O'Neill that while your military personnel are under his authority, civilians are required to be authorized by the IOA."

Oh, boy.

So that's how it was going to go down.

Civilians versus military.

"I assure you Mr. Woolsey," Mitchell said in that tone of voice that could either be patronizing or pure innocence, "That investigations carried out under the UCMJ fall under the authority of Homeworld Security and are military in nature. Selected investigators will be designated under the Air Force or Marines. Any further briefings on my behalf to General O'Neill are unnecessary."

Woolsey's lips pressed into a thin line, before he turned and stalked off.

Weird.

"So… maybe let General O'Neill know that his little pet project is causing some… waves." And that's all he was going to say, without absolutely undermining Woolsey in front of the command staff.

"Apparently…" There was another long pause. "Dr. Lam is finished, it appears. We'll contact you in six hours. SGC out."

Chuck cut the connection and wormhole a moment later.

John didn't quite let his shoulders droop, but it was a close thing. Six hours and then at least a part of the mess would be off his hands. "If anyone needs me, I'll be reviewing reports in my office," he said at large to the group. Anyone would know how strange a thing that was, and would probably leave him more or less alone for the next few hours.

Except for Rodney, who followed him out of the command center and down the hall. Notably, he didn't say anything, until they were in the privacy of John's office.

"Did anything seem, I don't know, off to you about Woolsey?"

John collapsed into his chair, waving a hand at the one opposite his desk. "He's been all over Alex's presence in the city. It really ruffled his feathers." If that was all. That he had been seemingly more concerned about the lack of marines than that one of his civilians had gotten injured was unnerving.

And the near threat to O'Neill was completely out of the ordinary.

"I intercepted a report piggybacking on the data transfer." Rodney chewed on his lip, looking slightly guilty. "Woolsey was trying to send a secure message to the IOA."

"Fuck." The last people they needed were the IOA sticking their collective noses in their business. Woolsey had seemed genuinely invested in keeping the IOA out – but undermining authority was the wrong way to go about it. "What did it say?"

"Oh, just that O'Neill was allowing unauthorized civilians on Atlantis. And revealed Alex's name, age, and distinct lack of credentials, just in case they wanted to investigate him."

Which would just give the Trust exactly what they're looking for. Woolsey knew the IOA was compromised. He had read the briefings. There was a reason they were working so hard to keep the IOA's representatives off of Atlantis.

Rodney's mouth turned down into a frown. "And while I may admit I was rather… skeptical of his presence here, he's… been rather helpful to Radek. And you know, I don't really wish a snaking on anyone."

That was practically high praise, coming from Rodney. John blew out a long breath. "Well, keep an eye out when they dial back in. We'll… just have to deal with that whole issue… some other time." There were too many moving parts right now, too much that they all had to keep straight.

Hopefully Mitchell would send someone that they wouldn't have to spin a whole other story for.

A/N: Hmm… What is Woolsey up to? And who do you think Mitchell is going to send to deal with Jamison? No Alex today, but he's a little, uh... out of it.