Chapter 42: Back Door Entry

When he planned to come in the back door, he hadn't quite planned to be on the outside of the tower…

There were limitations with the life signs detector's maps it seemed.

There was very clearly a balcony above him and would be the last direction they would expect him to come in from, but…

Alex blew out a long breath, then studied the outer walls a little closer. There were plenty of handholds and the gaps in the outer plating were plenty wide for toe holds. Almost as if it had been built just in case some insane person decided to scale the top fifty feet of the tower. It had been a bit since he had done any rock climbing, though. He looked down over the edge then jerked back in the window.

Right.

Seventy stories.

There was no difference between falling nearly a thousand feet to the jagged buildings below and tumbling out of bed.

Just the splat at the end.

Alex stuck a hand out the window, trying to feel the air currents. Feeling for anything that would immediately pick him up off the building and send him falling below.

Nothing.

Well, nothing important, that was.

It wasn't a blustery day and climbing wouldn't mean his absolute doom.

It was just twenty feet or so.

Nothing major.

Nothing more than some of the kiddie climbing walls he had been on as a kid.

Right.

Perfect.

Alex chewed on his lip for a moment longer before stashing his supplies in his pockets. It would be pointless if he made it up there and no longer had a way to take anybody out. Hopefully there would be enough time to go invisible – just in case he fell, it would probably be a good idea for someone to be able to find his body…

He shuddered at that thought, before looking out the window once again – opening straight out into the open air at this height had to be some kind of code violation on Earth. But then, he wasn't on Earth and the rules no longer applied.

But anyway… They would never see him coming from below. Invisibility wasn't going to matter much when he had the element of surprise on his side.

He toed off his boots, but left the socks on. Still probably a foolish move, but…

Alex climbed through the window, toes pressing into the thin window sill and hoping that it didn't try crumbling underneath his weight. He pulled himself up, fingers digging into the wall.

Just a handful of feet.

That was all.

If only he had held off on all the other climbing today…

He lifted a foot, finding another stable surface, then pushed up.

Reach.

Step.

Push up.

Step.

Repeat.

Deep breath.

He was going to deserve a nice long shower at the end of the day.

Maybe some chocolate too.

Could probably bribe some from Rodney, since he saved his life and all.

Step.

Press up.

Reach.

Grab. Readjust.

Maybe he could get an automatic pass on the hacking section of his coursework.

Surely Dr. Z could give him a couple days off.

Step.

Reach.

Slip.

The panel crumbled underneath his hand, scraping his hand and wrist against the roughly textured walls. Alex pressed his chest against the wall, toes curling against the indentations – hoping that this wasn't a sign that it was all going to crumble apart on him.

It was thousands of years old.

Tens of thousands.

After a moment, he recaught his breath, and looked to see the damage.

Scrapes, bright red blood welling, all across his fingers and arm.

And the bracelet… was gone.

Alex pressed his forehead against the wall, breathing tightly, trying not to let the tears of frustration escape.

He didn't need it.

It would be fine.

He glanced up at the balcony looming overhead.

Almost there.

He stretched, now tender fingers grasping for a firmer hold.

There.

Another foothold.

Just a few short inches to the lower edge of the balcony.

Having invisibility had never helped him in the past – not having it now just meant he was back to square one.

Maybe they would let him skip some exams.

Press up.

Readjust.

He could petition O'Neill that surely saving the city earned him some sort of perks. Like a gun. Maybe just a knife, if they were worried about a minor with a weapon. The US allowed minors to have guns though…

Reach…

His fingers gripped onto the lower ledge and Alex readjusted his feet once more.

Not. Looking. Down.

Of course, the balcony walls had to be the most annoying pieces the climb, as the top foot of the railing stuck out further. An almost impassible slope.

Alex blew out a breath, then turned back to the wall.

Because he could climb the wall.

There was no need for supernatural powers.

This was nothing more than he had done in the past.

Step.

Reach.

Just a few more feet.

No one would see him.

Stretch.

Grasp.

Push.

If he nearly single-handedly stopped this invasion—

"He will make a fine addition, my queen. He can only run so far."

Alex froze, hand not quite clearing the top of the balcony ledge.

"We need to cut our losses," The woman's dual toned voice was eerily close. "Get Malcom's pet project, set the self-destruct, and abandon the city."

"I thought we were supposed to bring Sheppard as well."

"Sheppard is gone!" The woman hissed. "Because your men can't track down a teenaged boy!" There was the sound of a high-pitched whir and then something hard hit the ground.

"Yes, my queen." The man gasped, clearly in pain. "I'll… I'll get him myself. You have my word."

"Your word means nothing when I see no action!" The slap was loud and Alex couldn't help the wince.

There was more groveling, but it seemed the man knew better than to stick around, because the doors on the balcony opened and he hurried away.

To track Alex down.

But it left the queen vulnerable and alone.

Alex wrapped a hand around the upper ledge of the balcony wall, found a new foothold, and pushed up until he could just barely see over the ledge.

The woman was on the far side of the balcony, back turned toward Alex. She had a grey orb in her hands, with an image that flickered in and out of sight.

A communication device?

A hologram projector?

A bomb?

He clearly needed to brush up on Milky Way technology, since he had no doubt others knew exactly what he was looking at.

She had a golden bracelet on, but no cloaking device.

Alex pulled himself up, until his chest was over the ledge, then swung his legs up and over. He froze in place for a long moment, just in case someone heard him.

There was nothing.

No sign that she knew he was there.

"Ragamona, you had better have good news for me." The voice came from the orb.

"We have run into some… difficulties," the woman said, clearly displeased. "Tulloch assures me he has it under control."

Alex hopped down off the ledge, pulling the knife from his waistband, and crept closer.

"Sheppard and the kid?" The man was dressed in a business suit – looked like any normal earth banker.

"Sheppard is… missing." As if she hadn't missed him being beamed up to the Daedalus. No one had missed that. "The kid is being a thorn in my side."

Alex grinned at that and took a couple of steps closer. He was going to be a thorn somewhere else pretty soon.

"That's the problem with training them so young. They get… headstrong."

He would've liked to wipe that smug smile off the man's face, but…

"It would be so much easier to go scorched earth with this project," she said, frowning down at the orb. "Your little pet project is rapidly outliving his usefulness. And taking Tulloch's men with him."

The man chuckled. "I warned you," he singsonged.

Alex grimaced, stepped forward until he was right behind the woman, raised his knife to the back of her neck. "Sorry to interrupt."

There wasn't even a moment to react. The knife went right through the personal shield. Right through the vertebrae. Right to where the snake resided.

She was dead before she hit the ground.

Alex stumbled over to the railing and couldn't help the heaves. Up close and personal was not his style.

"Oh, look at you little Alex."

Alex jerked up, staring over at the orb. Which hadn't deactivated. The man was just staring at him with an amused, smug smile.

"Becoming the cold-blooded killer that Rothman always knew you were. You think your friends here will be so happy to see you when they see how many bodies you've racked up? That they won't watch you from the corner of their eye, waiting for you to turn on them? Waiting for you to try to kill them?"

Alex scowled at the man, pushing it all down. "Fuck. You."

The man just laughed. "I can see spending time with daddy has helped so much. That wasn't the original plan, but… like father like son, taking out an entire invading army. You should ask him how that one went, how the guilt felt after taking them down one by one—"

Alex pulled his zat out and shot the orb. It fizzled for a moment before the connection cut off completely.

He did not need that right now.

The orb rolled to a stop in the far corner of the balcony. Hopefully it wasn't secretly a bomb too.

Alex wiped his knife off and slid it back into his waistband and cautiously stepped through the balcony doors. It opened into an office – Woolsey's from the looks of it – and it was obvious that someone had rummaged through the cabinets looking for something.

Who knew what.

It would just be a short sprint to where he had hooked in his data pad, drop the shield once again, and wait for reinforcements to stream in. The leader was gone and there were only a handful of people left in this part of the tower. Nothing that a few teams of marines couldn't take care of.

His hand fell to the oblong communicator in his pocket. There was no harm in trying and if Sheppard could get the Daedalus prepared for when he dropped the shield… it would save a whole minute of reentering override codes.

On.

Sheppard? It felt silly to be standing in the middle of Woolsey's office, trying to broadcast a thought at someone, but…

"Alex! Alex, where are you? What's happening? How are you—"

Alex winced, but couldn't help the grin that his plan seemed to have worked. Stop shouting. He shook his head, then crossed the office to peer out the door. No one nearby. Listen, I'm going to drop the shields again. You need to be ready up there.

"Wait, what? I've got to—" The thought cut off, turning into a random jumble of thoughts and overwhelming panic. "Just… stay where you are. You shouldn't—"

I've got this. Straight line, no one here. He figured he would leave out all the gruesome details for now. They would figure things out quickly enough. You send your people in… in five minutes. We'll be golden.

"Colonel Caldwell needs more ti—"

Tight window, sorry. He sprinted across to the console, sliding the last few feet on his knees. The data pad was just where he had left it, hidden up underneath the console. How no one had noticed the wires hanging down was beyond him, but he wasn't going to complain. They seemed to miss a lot of things right in front of them.

He swiped through to the permissions menu and enabled the override. A few more button pushes let him extend the override window – ten minutes. Someone with better understandings of the system was going to have to permanently disable it, but ten minutes was an awful lot of time.

You'll have ten minutes to beam up and down. I suggest sending some marines to the gate room.

"Why isn't your transmitter working?"

Alex winced at that. Couldn't let them track me. He started the sequence and watched the countdown slowly tick down from five minutes. Five minutes, Sheppard.

He pulled out the life signs detector and scanned for any nearby markers. Two were circling the sixty-eighth floor. The other had just passed the transporter he had used to dispose of bodies on the seventy-first floor and was making a rapid clip back in his direction. Directly for the door that connected to Woolsey's office.

Shit.

"What? What's wrong!"

Alex shoved the data pad back into its spot. Gonna have company soon. Now, shut up and let me think.

So much for not needing invisibility anymore…

He couldn't go out the balcony. Whoever it was, was coming right through there. Would probably even see the body on the balcony. Scaling back down the wall would be unexpected, but also had a much higher likelihood of ending in his plummeting death.

Stairs down to the gate room would leave him wide open when they existed Woolsey's office.

He could take the back stairway he had come in with Ronon, but there weren't exits on every level. If they tracked him in there – and they very well could – he would be stuck for at least ten floors. Possibly more. He hadn't exactly counted coming up.

"Alex, what are you doing! What's going on?"

Alex growled under his breath and ran toward the back stairwell. Not now Sheppard, kind of busy! He didn't need another voice in his head, distracting him. And without an ounce of regret, thought off at the device. He stumbled at the sudden headache at the back of his head, like someone had just hit him with a brick.

He had forgotten why they hadn't tried it again.

"Rider!" Glass shattered as bullets were fired in his direction.

Yep, they found the body.

All pretense of stealth was forgotten as Alex raced into the stairwell and ducked at the ensuing hail of bullets that hit the door frame above him.

"What did you do!" The man shouted.

Alex started running down the steps, skipping ones here and there – all too aware that one misstep would likely kill him. If the bullets didn't kill him first.

He grabbed the railing as he came around the first landing and jumped a couple of extra steps. Every little bit counted.

"You killed my queen."

Alex jerked away from the railing and kept running. "Sorry man, but your taste in women sucks."

His head was pounding from the sound of ricochet in the stairwell, thudding in time with his heart beat.

There was nowhere to hide.

Just stairs.

Endless stairs.

Floors and floors.

Landing after landing.

There was another stream of gunfire, then the sound of a clip running out.

Empty.

Alex skipped another couple steps, keeping pressed as close to the outer wall as possible. He wasn't going to give the man chance.

"Rider!"

Alex skidded to a stop as the man abandoned his attempts at shooting and just straight up jumped through the center of the stairwell, dropping three floors in a matter of seconds. He swung over the railing and stalked up the stairs toward Alex.

"You're ruined a lot of things, but I'm putting an end to that."

Alex glanced back up the stairs.

There was no way he was going to out run him going up.

So, he took the less obvious option and jumped at the man.

It was only moderately effective.

He over calculated just a bit.

He crashed into the man, but momentum kept him moving – and gravity won that battle. Nearly head over heels, Alex went crashing to the landing a good six or seven steps below.

His shoulder twinged.

Any illusions of forgetting about the headache were gone.

And the other man had the upper hand once again.

"Nice try, Rider." He grabbed Alex by the front of his shirt and pinned him against the wall. "But here's the problem – I'm not getting out of this city alive. So, neither are you."

Alex kneed the man in the crotch and swung forward with his head – anything to get him off balance – but he was too slow. It only earned him a burst of bright red blood across his face and an arm pinned across his throat.

"Nice try," the man said, voice thick with mucus. He pressed harder and Alex couldn't help the instinctive reflex to claw at the arm cutting off his air. "But you've got to try better. And you're not. Better, that is. Just a little kid."

He kicked out, but the man was too close. Not enough leverage.

There were black spots in his vision.

Gaping voids.

Alex gasped, yanking in the thinnest thread of air.

Not enough.

The man let up just the slightest bit, seeming to enjoy Alex's panic. "You know, Malcom was so insistent that you were the answer. That once we had a gene carrier, we would have everything we needed. I told him you were nothing but trouble. Guess he'll learn that now."

He just needed—

If only—

The man stepped closer, until he was practically framing Alex in. No spare inches to kick or strike. No chance of escape. He turned and spat out a glob of blood, then turned to grin down on Alex with a bloody smile. "You knew SCORPIA was coming for you. Should've run while you had a chance."

Lightning fast, one of his hands was wrenched to the side, sending searing pain up into his shoulder.

Nothing he could do to stop it.

The man was too close to kick.

Too close to headbutt.

Not enough leverage.

"Hey, kid. What's it like to know your daddy wanted you so little, he literally volunteered for a brain wipe, hmm?" The man grinned, deranged. "It's too bad we have so little time. I could tell you so many stories."

This man was on something.

Stories meant nothing.

Nothing he had learned over the years had added up to the truth.

Alex! Where are you!

Alex couldn't help the flinch, only succeeding in crushing his windpipe even further.

They're down. Just… give me some sort of sign. Sheppard sounded exhausted. Resigned.

The man just chuckled and Alex twisted, trying to press his legs against the wall, for some sort of leverage. Anything to just get the man off balance.

To give him a chance.

They need to know where you are.

The move was unexpected.

And so was the sudden searing pain in his side.

"Oops," the man said, giving Alex a careful up and down, hardly shifted by the movement. "You're a feisty one, aren't you? But that was a really bad move on your part."

The pressure on his throat lessened and Alex sucked in a hasty breath.

Knives pressing into his lungs would have felt more comfortable.

There was a crashing sound, many floors above them – reverberating strangely through the stairwell.

"Guess our time is about up, hey kid?"

I told you to stay put. How are we supposed to find a needle in a haystack?

The black spots were still dancing at the edges of his vision.

The air didn't seem to be going in quite as well as it should be.

Like something was wrong.

The crashing sound got further away.

The wrong direction.

The man's eyes shifted to the side for the slightest moment and Alex sprung on it.

It didn't matter that he couldn't breathe.

It didn't matter that his arm felt limp by his side.

It didn't matter that something was wrong.

He pushed forward with all his weight.

With all his desperation.

There was no way out of this.

But…

Perhaps…

God, kid, I hope you're not doing something stupid.

Sorry.

It was just enough to catch the man off guard, pressed back a couple of essential steps.

Alex kept moving.

Forwent the kick and just shoved.

If he got the man on the ground, maybe… maybe he could just run.

Just run a little further.

The others were here somewhere.

He just needed…

A sharp punch in the stomach had Alex crumbling to the ground, gasping for air.

A punch… didn't hurt that much.

Not like that.

He couldn't… couldn't catch his breath.

Every inhale felt like glass.

Like…

Like…

Someone was stabbing him.

Alex curled into himself, hand grasping at his side. The cry of agony was impossible to keep in when his hand brushed the wooden handle of the knife.

The knife in his side.

The knife stabbing him.

The man just snorted, staring down at Alex with an amused expression. "You're a freak, aren't you Rider? Just like your old man."

Alex tried to breathe.

Tried not to vomit.

That would just make it worse.

"You just don't know when to give up." The man turned to look up the stairwell. "They would have given you such a nice easy out – painless, even. You wouldn't have even known what was happening."

Alex panted, tried to think.

He wasn't running.

He wasn't moving.

He was dead.

The man ran a hand along the railing, then leaned over to look up, calculating. "Malcom really wanted you to be his successful little project. Your uncle was a bit of an unexpected speed bump, so protective of you. Too protective. Why do you think you kept moving when you were five and six? Malcom wanted a return on his investment."

In.

Out.

Alex, you can answer me any time.

"Not that he's going to get that now." The man turned around to lean casually against the railing. "You were just a little too smart. Probably would have overcome the deprogramming. A bad apple spoils the bunch."

Alex let out a sharp breath, tried to inch backwards.

If he could just hold out…

Someone would come…

He could…

He was cold.

Shivering.

Ice seeping into his bones.

"Your soldiers are trying to find you. Little invisible fairy."

"Not… my… soldiers," Alex gasped, throat feeling raw.

Alex? Alex! Rodney's coming and he's going to be really pissed if you did something stupid and heroic.

Huh.

So that's what it took to get through now?

Alex let his eyes slide shut and thought ferociously at Sheppard. Stairwell. Stairwell. Stairwell.

It was ominously silent.

The man chuckled. "They don't even know we're down here." He turned and waved a hand up at the floors above. "You heard them. No one even checked that door. I could just leave you here for hours – watch you slowly bleed to death, wait until the last of the light in your eyes trickles out. Then go on a rampage when they least expect it."

No.

"Who was your friend? That little Lieutenant? Marjorie was so helpful in pointing us toward the right targets. You stashed him in that little storage room, right? I'm sure I could get there before the Marines do – make one more little example."

Not Greg.

And he didn't know who the fuck Marjorie was, but…

No one was killing his friends.

Alex pushed up onto an arm and gripped the knife.

Stupid.

Foolish.

A death sentence.

But…

In one smooth motion, he yanked it out and threw it in the man's direction, handle spinning over blade in a complicated arch.

Carefully calculated.

There was a dull thunk – wood hitting something solid, like the back of a skull – and the man toppled over the railing like a marionette with its strings cut.

Alex slumped back to the floor; hand pressed against the now profusely bleeding wound. Tried to tune out the inevitable thump and crash below.

Tried to breathe, wondering if each one was going to be his last.

ALEXANDER JONATHAN RIDER!

Alex flinched as the words reverberated around his skull.

I know you're hearing me! Just answer, goddammit.

Alex sucked in a breath. Shallow, oh so shallow. "Threats… eliminated," he managed, trying to sound cheeky.

Trying to sound like he wasn't dying with every breath.

The dark spots were encroaching again.

Eliminat—Alex! Where are you? There was a thready, panicked feel to his voice. Rodney said you're not showing up on any of the sensors.

"Emer… emergency, stairwell." He let his eyes slide shut. Too… too much… effort.

Okay, okay. They're coming. Go up, they won't shoot. Promise.

Alex snorted.

Shooting was the least of his concerns.

He doubted he could even make it on to his feet.

-lex!

"What?" The voice was annoying.

Far away.

Like a bad radio signal.

—okay? —injured?

Alex forced open an eyelid to take stock of his side.

It was almost qualifying to say he was lying in a pool of his own blood.

There were reasons the knife wasn't supposed to be removed…

Don't you dare—

—listen to me, Alex?

"'m fine," he mumbled, pressing a hand tighter against his side, trying to stem the flow a little more. That's what you were supposed to do. Right? "Just… peachy."

There was a weird echo overhead.

Like rocks skittering down a cliff face.

But there were no cliffs here.

Just miles of endless stone.

Stone.

Stone.

Stone.

"Alex!"

That was different.

Louder.

Less fuzzy.

He tried to open his eyes, but they were just too heavy.

"You're as bad as—"

Something real.

Hands.

Rough, unrelenting.

Alex gasped against the sudden pressure on his stomach.

Worse than the knife.

"Think… 'm gonna pass out… now."

Alex!

"You nitwits had better beam me up right fucking now!"

Alex snorted out a breath. Rodney was here.

Here.

It was okay now.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed the ride. We've got a lot in this chapter. Bonus points if you know where the modified tumbling out of bed quote at the beginning comes from. So what comes next? Did he really get all the bad guys? Let me know your thoughts.