SGA-13 Hunt and Run (27 page)

“They used a tarp,” Ronon answered, standing again. “It was a little too even to match the terrain perfectly. And they dusted it with pebbles but they were too uniform about it.” He shook his head. “Sloppy.”

“Sloppy? It looked pretty convincing to me.” Rodney stood as well and stepped forward to stare into the hole. It looked more than deep enough and more than wide enough to swallow a man whole. “Did they dig that, or just find it and cover it up?”

“It’s a natural crevice,” Ronon replied. “They’re all over this area.” He gave Rodney a hard look. “That’s why you need to stay behind me.”

“Okay, I got it,” Rodney agreed quickly. He couldn’t argue that Ronon was a better hunter and tracker, and he had no desire to fall into one of those concealed pits. “But tell me why we’re not going straight to wherever these V’rdai are keeping Sheppard and Teyla?”

“Too many of them,” Ronon told him bluntly. “Even if we find them and they don’t see us, I’m guessing there’re at least four of them, maybe more. There’s no guarantee I can take them out before they shoot the hostages.”

“What? Why would they shoot them?” Rodney shook his head. “Why not try to use them for cover, or to bargain their way out?”

Now it was Ronon’s turn to shake his head, his dreadlocks flying. “They don’t think that way,” he explained. “They’re hunters, and soldiers. They’re used to dealing with Wraith. That means no bargains, no mercy, and no getting captured. Ever. If we attack they’ll kill the hostages and make a run for it, hoping we stop to check the bodies.”

Rodney gulped. “Okay, so we can’t just hit them straight on. Got it. What do we do?” He tried to put himself in Ronon’s shoes — and failed miserably. So he tried to think like Sheppard instead. That was a little easier, though horribly limiting. “We need a diversion.”

His companion grinned. “Exactly. And I know just the one to get their attention.” .

*
 
*
 
*

“There!” Ronon peered quickly around the rock they were stooped behind, then drew back, his motion swift but smooth. Rodney craned his head to look as well, and though he had only the briefest glance before he was yanked back down, he had seen enough to identify what they were looking at.

“A ship!” He tried to organize the few details he’d seen. “Well, a shuttle, really. No hyperspace, probably no weapons, maybe not even any shields. But it could get us to the Stargate, and even if they don’t still have that portable DHD you mentioned it must have some kind of communications array — I could contact Atlantis!” He was already halfway up again before a burly arm shoved him back onto his rear.

“No,” Ronon told him. “No communications. Not yet. We can’t let them find out about Atlantis.”

Rodney started to object, then thought about it. Much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, his companion was right. There was no guarantee the V’rdai didn’t have some sort of
commlinks
tied in to the ship’s systems. After all,
they
did. And if that was the case, and he used the shuttle to call Atlantis, the V’rdai would all hear it. They’d know exactly where he and Ronon were, and they’d also know about Atlantis. They’d even have the city’s subspace frequency. No, that wouldn’t work at all.

“Okay,” he agreed, “so we steal the shuttle, use it to find the others, head on back to the Stargate with it, and then Woolsey sends troops back to retrieve the Jumper.”

That met with another headshake. “They’ll have them up in the mountains, where a shuttle can’t reach,” Ronon explained. “And we don’t want to leave the Jumper in their hands. They might be able to get it working again, and then they’d have access to the gates and to Atlantis itself.” He looked pained for a second. “Adarr was a top-notch mechanic, and he could still be with them.”

Rodney hadn’t considered that, and he studied his companion for a second. They were going up against people who had been the Satedan’s friends, his comrades in arms, for almost two years. If it came down to it, would Ronon be able to take them down? Then he shook himself. Why was he even asking the question? This was Ronon, for heaven’s sake! He came close to knocking out his friends on a regular basis.

Still, Rodney was getting tired of having his ideas shot down. “Okay, I give up,” he said testily. “You don’t like any of my suggestions? Fine. Let’s hear yours. What do you think we should do with that shuttle down there?”

So Ronon told him. And, after his initial disapproval, Rodney had to admit it was a good idea. Almost as good as if he’d come up with it himself.

“Fine,” he said finally. “We’ll try it your way.”

“Fine.” Ronon risked another look, then rose to a crouch and gestured for Rodney to follow him. “Let’s go.”

“What, now? Shouldn’t we plan it out a bit more first?” Rodney was on his feet and following even as he complained.

“No time,” came the reply. “They could show up at any second.”

“Great. I just love pressure,” Rodney muttered. He kept glancing around, expecting strangers to appear behind every rock and boulder — he didn’t even know what these V’rdai would look like, so in his head they became monstrous figures with oversized, clawed hands and enormous jagged teeth and tusks and horns, a combination of men and a dozen different Earth predators. No one appeared as they made their way the rest of the distance out of the foothills, however, and the shuttle seemed quiet as they approached it.

“All right, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Rodney said to himself as he stepped up beside the airlock.

“Careful,” Ronon warned — the big Satedan had his back to the hull and was scanning the area for danger, pistol in hand. “They might have rigged it.”

“Thank you for that brilliant observation,” Rodney snapped at him, pausing just long enough to glare at his companion, “but I think I figured that one out on my own. This is my area of expertise, remember? So you do the whole shooting-and-killing thing, and let me do my work. Okay?” He didn’t even wait for the nod he suspected would never come. Instead he carefully cracked open the access panel and studied the mass of wires and chips inside.

The V’rdai had indeed rigged it. They’d done a decent job, too — anyone trying to type in the wrong access code would have gotten an exploding panel for their trouble, and it had enough of a charge to vaporize the would-be intruder’s hand, arm, and maybe chest and face as well. Of course, they hadn’t counted on a bona fide genius like Dr. Rodney McKay. It was child’s play for him to disconnect the charge, reroute power around the password protection, and enter an override. He paused before he activated it, however. He’d just noticed the secondary wiring, and the small array it ran to at the rear of the panel.

“I’ve got it,” he told Ronon, “and it was rigged. But there’s more. They’ve got it wired so it sends out a signal every time it opens or closes. Do you want me to kill that as well?”

“No, leave that alone,” Ronon instructed, which was what Rodney had thought he’d say. After all, if you were trying to lure people to you, you wanted them to know where you were. The very idea of deliberately attracting an enemy’s attention made his skin crawl, but he shrugged it off and initiated the override. The airlock slid open with a low hiss.

“Okay, I got us in,” Rodney told him, unable to resist a surge of pride at how easily he’d bypassed the shuttle’s security. Was that the best they could do? Ha! “You do the rest.”

It didn’t take long for Ronon to get everything set up. “Now we wait,” he said afterward, clapping Rodney on the back with his free hand. “Shouldn’t be too long — they’d stay close enough to keep their ship somewhere they could reach it in a hurry.”

Rodney nodded, eyes flickering to take in every inch of the desolate planet around them. Great, more waiting. He hated waiting. He especially hated waiting for crazed killers to show up and attack them.

But right now he didn’t really have a whole hell of a lot of choice. So he stayed close to Ronon as they crouched behind the shuttle, and found himself in the ironic position of hoping their foes would hurry up. .

*
 
*
 
*

It was at least ten minutes, though it felt like hours, before Ronon tapped Rodney on the arm. The Satedan gestured his head off to one side. Rodney stared in that direction until his eyes ached. Just as he was about to blink, he saw a shadow shift, then a second one. Finally!

The two of them waited, completely silent, and utterly motionless, as those same shadows shifted again. And then again. They were growing longer, but far too quickly for it to simply be from the sun sliding by overhead. No, this was something else.

After a few more minutes, one of the shadows detached itself from a large boulder and darted across the short space to the shuttle. Its companion joined it an instant later. As they reached the shuttle they gained solidity, mass, until they were two figures dressed in dark mottled clothing designed to blend in with their current surroundings. Both were armed and had weapons drawn. Facemasks and goggles completely concealed their features, but the second one’s head swiveled about, taking in their surroundings. The first one’s attention remained focused upon the shuttle itself.

Without a word, the first figure advanced to the airlock. It hesitated briefly, then peered inside. Rodney held his breath as the figure entered the shuttle. Almost . . .

The figure outside was checking all around them, covering the shuttle while its partner looked within. It spun about, however, when a gasp and a thud emerged through the open airlock, and then darted inside as well, a pistol in one hand and a knife in the other as it hurried to aid its partner.

The second its back was turned, Ronon ducked back around the shuttle and fired. His shot hit the stranger square in the back, and the masked figure collapsed, weapons falling from its hands to hit the ground right beside it. Ronon was already moving, gliding back over to the airlock and through it to take out the V’rdai within as well. He’d rigged a simple snare just past the airlock, trusting the gloom and their foes’ haste to prevent it from being noticed until too late. Clearly he’d been right.

Ronon reemerged a moment later, a bound figure slung over his shoulder. He stalked off toward the hills they’d descended from, and returned after a minute without his burden. Next he bound and gagged the one he’d dropped just outside the shuttle — revealing a square-jawed woman with dark skin and jet-black hair as he pulled off her mask — and carried her off to place her beside her partner.

While he was doing that, Rodney ducked into the shuttle. He hadn’t entered it before, waiting behind it while Ronon deliberately left tracks through the airlock and then erased any others, so this was his first glimpse of the small spaceship’s interior. It was very utilitarian, even more so than the Jumper, which wasn’t exactly designed for opulence. But this shuttle had that particular look and feel that screamed military, with bare surfaces and sharp angles and gray metal. Even the seats looked uncomfortable, little more than hard benches. The good news was, military ships tended to have straightforward designs as well, and so it took him no time to find the panel he needed and make the appropriate adjustments. He did notice a DHD panel up front — probably the same one Ronon had told him about them taking from the Dart’s debris, only now they’d apparently attached it to the ship instead of carrying it around separately — but left that alone. That wasn’t his concern right now.

“All set?” Ronon asked as he returned from his second body drop.

“Just about,” Rodney answered from within. A moment later he closed the panel again, wiped his hands on the bench and then on his pants legs, and rejoined his companion outside the shuttle. “Good to go.”

“How much time did you give it?” Ronon asked.

“One hour, just like you said,” Rodney assured him. “Trust me — this I’m good at.”

The Satedan’s simple nod was high praise indeed, coming from him. “I found their tracks,” he said instead. “They were in too much of a rush to conceal them completely. It’s this way.”

Rodney followed behind, hoping wherever the V’rdai had been holed up wasn’t more than an hour away. If it was, things could get a bit tricky.

Still, it felt good to be taking the fight to their attackers for a change. He was starting to see why Ronon and Sheppard enjoyed being so aggressive. There might even be something to this whole hunting thing.

Though he’d still prefer to relax with a good book.

Boom
.

“What the hell was that?” Sheppard started, glancing around. The ground was shaking slightly beneath him, and he fell back against Teyla — she leaned into him as well, so that they were propping each other up.

“Seismic activity?” she asked quietly. She pressed her bound hands flat to the ground, trying to get a better feel for the vibrations that were already fading.

“I don’t think so.” Sheppard tilted his head a little so he could watch their captors. Two of the four who had left earlier had returned, and now they were all clustered in a group. Even without being able to hear them clearly he could tell they were upset about something — the tall thin guy and the woman and one of the others were gesturing wildly, and the leader was trying to calm them down.