Fanfiction: Broken Wings, Chapter 25

[rachel500]

For author's note and disclaimer see Chapter 1

John's heart beat wildly but he tried to keep up a calm front as he locked the door and turned to Lovell. He was amazed that she had actually agreed to help them but he had promised her sanctuary and he would do his best to keep his promise.

'We need clothes.' He said promptly.

Cam nodded furiously. 'Clothes.' He said in fervent agreement. He stared wide-eyed at Lovell as though he couldn't believe that she had come through for them either.

Lovell nodded although her eyes travelled over both of them with a hint of a smirk. John ignored the urge to cover himself like a blushing Victorian maiden and brazened it out.

'This way.' Lovell turned and began making her way down the narrow corridor. Mitchell fell into step behind her and John followed, awkwardly holding the zat. He'd had training on how to use them but they weren't standard issue for the Atlantis expedition. He had no idea why Sumner had decided against them originally but he'd kept to the decision when it had been his decision to make primarily because they had their own stun weapons liberated from the Wraith and it seemed to make sense to keep Pegasus weapons in Pegasus.

John shook his thoughts away and kept his focus on Lovell. They'd traversed quite a distance and hadn't come across another guard but John figured it was only a matter of time. The ship was huge, probably an old cargo ship of some sort that had been modified, he mused, but it was big enough to hold a number of Alliance guards.

Mitchell's eyes drifted back to him in a silent check and John gave a nod to confirm that everything was fine. Mitchell was limping badly. John thought of Mitchell's confession about the surgery. He had sensed it was a difficult topic for Mitchell to talk about and he didn't blame him for keeping it quiet.

The Air Force was a competitive game. As much as team-work was encouraged, pilots in particular knew they were in competition with each other for spaces on squads, for the best aircraft, for flight time. They had to be fit and ready; flying a fighter aircraft – especially one without alien technology smoothing the way, never mind one with – took an incredible amount of skill and stamina. There had to be no question over fitness.

That Mitchell had made it back from the injuries he'd sustained once had been a miracle and he sensed that Mitchell feared he couldn't do it twice. But Mitchell had an inner core of steel and John was certain his friend could do it.

They'd all help him through it, John determined. It wasn't as though Mitchell was without support. His team would be there for him; his family – Frank and Wendy who were fantastic and supportive; and John. He considered Mitchell a friend now, he realised thinking back to his own wonderings about why he'd been at the bucks' night before the vacation. If Mitchell went through the surgery, John would find some way to help him even if he was back in Pegasus.

Lovell went up a ladder; Mitchell following her grimacing all the way. John sighed and followed. He'd done one stint on an aircraft carrier during his Special Ops days and he hadn't enjoyed it. The ship had felt too enclosing and he'd been glad when their next assignment had come through and they'd headed for land again.

There was another narrow corridor waiting for him after he'd traversed the ladder.

Lovell glanced back. 'It's not far now.'

John and Mitchell both nodded to her, and they continued to walk in silence. John felt the sting of cold every time he placed his feet and was hard pressed not to flinch. He was cold, very cold. He couldn't wait to get clothes and shoes; to wrap himself up warmly again. He hadn't lied to Mitchell, he did consider Antarctica beautiful but then it had been a refuge for him rather than a punishment in the end.

When he'd first arrived at McMurdo he'd been resentful and angry; at the Air Force for the black mark and what he'd thought was the death knell on his career; at his father for the words they'd exchanged in anger; at Dave for supporting his father; at the few friends that he'd had melting away to avoid being caught up in John's downfall.

But there had been something peaceful about the ice and snow when he'd patrolled. The other guys in the squad had kept their distance although one or two had reached out. John had gone along a couple of times for beers and to watch games but mostly he'd stayed alone and it had given him time to think, to grieve for what he'd lost. He'd needed Antarctica.

And he knew deep down that he needed something similar again. It had been five years of carrying a heavy responsibility that weighed on his shoulders; five years of losses; five years of constant battling against enemies and fighting to save friends; and it had been four years of silence from his family before his Dad had died and he and Dave had reconnected. He was exhausted.

Focus, John, he berated himself. He could indulge in his very own pity party when they were safe and not before.

Mitchell had surprised John in facing him with his knowledge that John wasn't leaning on his team. John flushed just thinking about it. All his reasons for not confiding his grief and his pain in his friends were valid; he believed that. His friends were finding their own happiness; they didn't need him bringing them down and making them miserable. But deep down he knew that they would want to be there for him; would be there for him.

Finally – finally – they came to a door and Lovell gestured at John to pass her the set of keys he had filched from the guard. John tossed them to her wordlessly. He didn't trust her, not completely, but he figured he had to in the short term. Hell, he'd trusted a Wraith; trusting an Alliance operative wasn't any different.

The door led to a locker room and Lovell ushered them inside swiftly.

'We should be safe in here for a short time.' Lovell said before walking over to one locker and opening it. She waved at them to have at it before she opened another locker and moved away to sit on the central bench.

John looked at the first locker contents with interest. There were two flight suits; green without identifying patches. He handed one to Mitchell and grabbed the second for himself. He briefly mourned the loss of his own clothing but he dressed quickly, unwilling to have the zat – the only weapon they had – out of his hands for any length of time.

The second locker held their boots. John shoved his numb feet into the comfy warmth and quickly laced them part of the way up. He sat up as he finished and waited for Mitchell. His friend was moving slowly but efficiently.

Lovell got up and retrieved three coats from a rack at the back of the room. She handed them out and John slipped his arms into one with gratitude. His body was still cold under the layers of clothing but it would warm up.

Lovell took a step toward the door and John held up a hand.

'We need to talk about the plan before we go much further.'

'You have a plan?' Lovell asked sceptically.

'Of course there's a plan.' John retorted.

Lovell raised an elegant eyebrow. 'You forget that I've read the intelligence reports, Colonel.'

John opened his mouth and shut it again. He threw a look at a smirking Mitchell. 'You can't talk either.'

Mitchell raised a hand in supplication. 'We need a new plan anyway.' He sobered quickly. 'Our priority has to be getting Amy next.'

'Your girlfriend?' Lovell shook her head. 'They've implanted her with a Goa'uld. She's lost to you.'

John winced at Lovell's bluntness.

'I know she's been implanted with a Goa'uld.' Mitchell responded tersely. 'I saw the scarline.' His blue eyes glittered. 'I'm not leaving her behind.'

'We,' John corrected, 'we are not leaving her behind.'

'You can't save her.' Lovell argued.

'The Tok'ra can extract the Goa'uld.' Mitchell shot back. 'Amy will survive this.'

Lovell looked as though she wanted to argue more.

John jumped in before she could say anything. 'Can you get us to where they're keeping her?'

Lovell pulled a face, her pretty features twisting, but she sighed and gave a nod. 'I can. She is on the other side of the ship though and we will need to walk a short distance across the deck.' Her gaze met his challengingly. 'It will be dangerous.'

John nodded his understanding. 'OK, we'll,' he lifted the zat, 'stun her as soon as we can get the door open.'

Mitchell waved at Lovell. 'Do you have another weapon?'

Lovell stared at him; her view of him was clear – she didn't trust him. But she silently moved to a chest, unlocked it and handed him another zat.

'Once we have Amy we'll need to get to a helicopter.' Mitchell said, his fingers closing around the weapon tightly.

'What about the cloaking device?' John asked Lovell. 'Where is it?'

'The main control system is on the bridge.' Lovell said. 'The helicopter is armed with missiles; you should be able to destroy it.' She paused. 'You will need to destroy it. The helicopter cannot pass beyond the cloak.'

'Great.' John tried to keep the discomfort off his face. It would be tight blowing up the cloak and keeping the helicopter from getting caught in the blast. He could do it though; he'd had tighter assignments.

'If we bring the cloak down, it's possible that the Odyssey will beam us out.' Mitchell added encouragingly. 'The spy who beamed us here is on board this ship, right? He's not still on the Odyssey.'

Lovell's lips curled into an ugly spy. 'Allia killed him but not before he confirmed that he had destroyed the technology. We will not be beamed out.'

John exchanged a wry look with Mitchell; both of them knew their teams would be working on the problem – Rodney was in likelihood up on the Odyssey fixing it, John mused.

'I think you'll be surprised.' John said mildly.

'What about our earpieces?' Mitchell asked suddenly. 'Do you have those?' He looked at John. 'If we get the cloak down we can communicate with the Odyssey; request 302 support.'

'Good point.' John agreed, turning back to Lovell expectantly.

She grimaced again but unlocked another chest and rooted around in it. She pulled out the earpieces. She passed them onto John who handed one to Mitchell and looped the other one over his ear. Lovell hesitated for a long moment and then pulled out a tangle of chains. She silently placed the bundle into John's open palm.

He disentangled his own dog tags, handed Mitchell's to him, and slipped the chain back over his neck, placing the tags under his clothing next to his skin.

The sense of comfort the familiar weight engendered wasn't new to John. His dog tags meant something to him; the identity he had chosen rather than one gifted to him by birth and the virtue (or curse) of being Patrick Sheppard's son.

Mitchell patted his shoulder. 'You ready to do this?'

John gave a brief nod. 'You?'

'As much as I've enjoyed our stay, I'm ready to leave.' Mitchell quipped.

Lovell's eyes rolled at the joke. 'This way.' She paused at the door, peeking out to check that nobody was around before she led them out.

John kept track of the route but hurried along. Mitchell was back in the middle again, limping badly but keeping pace with Lovell who wasn't slowing down or making any allowances for him.

The step out into the open air of the deck was a wake-up call; icy air slapping into him hard. He sucked in a breath and winced at the sharpness of air in his lungs. The ice in the distance was a welcome sight though. Antarctica; it had been good for him once, hopefully it would be again.

He breathed out. They could do this.

They kept low and to the sides of walls as they traversed the deck. Mitchell pointed out the helicopters and John's heart sank at the distance they would need to travel back with Amy. It was going to be slow and he couldn't believe Allia wouldn't notice that the guard hadn't turned up with Mitchell before then.

He sighed. There was nothing to do but carry on with the plan. They slipped into another side door and Lovell led the way back through more corridors before they came to a door.

'This is the surveillance room.' Mitchell whispered, catching Lovell's arm before she could open the door.

Lovell glared at him. 'We need to take out the guard before we go in for her or would you rather he set off the alarms when we grab her?'

Mitchell looked chagrined. 'Right. Sorry.' He let her go and waved towards the door. 'After you.'

Lovell shot John a look and he offered a half-smile in apology. She set her shoulders, armed the zat and opened the door. She immediately fired off the zat as soon as the door swung open and John heard the thump of a body crashing to the ground. He winced in sympathy. He followed Lovell into the room, silently signalling for Mitchell to stand guard, and glanced at the surveillance monitor.

Amy sat on the bed reading a magazine. There was a mug in her hand and she looked to all extents and purposes like a bored housewife.

'The keys will be on the guard.' Lovell instructed.

John grimaced but obligingly patted down the felled man. He plucked the keys from the pocket of the jacket and held them up. 'Let's go.'

Lovell paused, turned back and fired off two more zat rounds. The guard disappeared.

'What did you do that for?' John said. He was shocked at the ruthlessness of her action especially since she'd only just changed sides.

'We can't afford him coming to and raising the alarm.' Lovell said brusquely.

He held back the sharp words that hovered on his tongue. Lovell's world was not his world, John reminded himself silently. The only important thing was that they got the hell off the ship and if that meant Lovell erasing every single Alliance member on board, well, maybe John could live with that even if he wouldn't make the same choice. He followed Lovell out. Mitchell's look spoke volumes but John gestured for him to let it go.

The door to Amy's room wasn't far.

John turned to Lovell. 'I'll unlock it. You go in and do your thing.' He whispered.

'I'll go in.' Mitchell whispered back.

'No.' John shook his head. 'You might hesitate to fire. Hell, I might hesitate to fire and we both know how strong someone with a Goa'uld is. We can't take that chance. She fires.' He held Mitchell's gaze determinedly.

He could understand Mitchell's distrust of Lovell especially with what had just happened but John knew he was right.

Mitchell gave a nod of agreement and limped across the corridor to take up a watch and guard position.

John breathed a silent sigh of relief and glanced at Lovell to check she was ready. She nodded. John slid the key in the lock and turned it. He held up three fingers and counted them off silently, opening the door fluidly on the number three.

Lovell immediately stepped inside and fired the weapon. There was no thump but John figured the bed had caught Amy and when he got inside he found he was right; Amy was slumped over onto her side. The tea had spilled everywhere and her blouse was wet through.

'Do we have a coat for her?' John kicked himself for not remembering when they'd been in the locker room.

Lovell moved to open a closet and took out a coat. She helped John manoeuvre Amy into it. John tucked the zat into the deep pockets of his own coat and hoisted Amy over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

'OK.' He said.

They moved back out of the room and into the corridor. Mitchell's face brightened with relief as he saw Amy draped over John's shoulder.

'Let's go.' John ordered. They needed to get to the helicopter ASAP. He had the sense that time was running out for them; if he were Allia, he would already have sent someone to check on why Mitchell hadn't turned up for her little get together.

They made their way down the corridor and surprised a guard coming round a corner. Lovell didn't hesitate again. She zatted them before the guy could draw his own weapon. She fired again and again.

Mitchell paled; his lips tightened but he didn't say anything. John kept his own counsel. They trudged onward. Amy wasn't heavy but she wasn't a lightweight. John regretted not spending more time in the gym.

They had just stepped out onto the deck when the alarm sounded through the ship; a loud klaxon that made John want to duck and cover his ears.

'Crap.' Mitchell said as they hurried to cover behind a wall. John gently placed Amy down and Mitchell tugged her lax body close to him, protecting her.

Lovell crouched beside them. 'What now?'

John looked out at the guards running across the deck; there weren't as many as he feared but they were all taking up positions that cut them off from the helicopters. His eyes landed on the nearby 302.

'Plan C.' He suggested, moving back. He nudged Mitchell. 'You take the 302.'

Mitchell's eyes widened. 'But…'

'There is only room for two in the 302.' Lovell pointed out. 'Am I the passenger?'

'No,' John placed his hand on her arm to stop her talking, 'Mitchell will take Amy in the 302. He can disrupt the cloak. Worst case scenario is that they believe it's me and Mitchell in the 302 and we'll be able to sneak around and leave in the helicopter. Best case scenario is that as soon as the cloak comes down we all get beamed back to the Odyssey.'

'Good plan.' Mitchell agreed. 'But I don't like leaving you on board.' His eyes flickered to Lovell.

'We'll be fine.' John said.

Lovell's look gave away that she hadn't missed any of the subtext of their exchange. 'What happens if this plan goes wrong?'

John shrugged. 'We move onto plan D.' He smirked at her. 'As long as we don't get to plan F we're fine.'

Mitchell snorted.

'If we're going to do this, we should do it now.' Lovell said with a weary expression that said she had no idea what they had found amusing and she wasn't going to ask.

John took a breath and nodded seriously. He pointed at Lovell. 'Cover us.' He stooped and picked up Amy. 'After you, Mitchell.'

They eased their way onto the deck. Mitchell took out one guard near to the 302 and a bolt of blue lightening hit another on the other side. John shot Lovell an acknowledging look of gratitude as they hurried towards the aircraft.

Mitchell did a cursory check of the outside while John climbed the ladder and placed Amy into the back seat. He tucked in her limbs as gently as he could; put a helmet on her and strapped her in. He disabled the back controls so if the Goa'uld woke up she wouldn't be able to control the ship. He got back onto the ground as Mitchell finished.

'Good luck.' John held out his hand.

Mitchell pulled him into a quick hug instead. 'Take care.' He said as he stepped back. He hauled himself up the ladder and into the 302. John pushed the ladder aside and from the corner of his eyes, he saw another guard who had been sneaking behind him hit the deck.

Good. Lovell was keeping her side of the bargain. He skipped back and rejoined her as Mitchell fired up the 302 engines and taxied around to the small runway the deck provided. The spy who'd died bringing the 302 down had to have been a hell of a pilot, John mused.

Lovell poked him. 'Now what?'

'We need to be well away from the bridge.' John stated. 'Come on. Let's get to the helicopter.' He inched around the wall.

As much as John didn't want to acknowledge it openly, they moved faster without Mitchell limping alongside them and without John having to carry Amy. The 302 taking off had led most of the guards to the other end, shooting helplessly up at the aircraft as it hovered over the ship; the one or two that were left had been easily dispatched by Lovell and John. The helicopters were in front of them.

'Sheppard, Mitchell. Can you read me?'

John tapped his earpiece. 'I read you.'

'Are you clear of the bridge area?' Mitchell asked briskly.

'Clear.'

'Fire in the hole.' Mitchell quipped.

The sound of the missile zipping through the air had John pushing Lovell behind a wall and covering her body with his own.

The explosion was deafening. John felt the heat of it against his cheek; along his back through the material of the coat. Debris rained down behind them, hitting the deck with full force. John watched the helicopters carefully. One of them took some shrapnel along the tail but the other was left undamaged.

'Odyssey, this is Mitchell.'

John breathed out and turned his head to watch Mitchell turn the 302 back around.

'Can you read me?' Mitchell continued.

'This is Colonel Morrow…'

'Mitchell!' Rodney cut through Morrow's reply. 'Where's…'

'I'm here, Rodney.' John tapped his earpiece to answer, easing back from Lovell and helping her into a crouching position. 'We need a beam out.'

'Uh, we're not quite there in fixing the beaming technology.' Rodney said quickly. 'Do you have another option?'

'Mitchell's in a 302 with Amy.' John replied. 'I have other transportation.'

'I'll cover you.' Mitchell said, interrupting them.

'You need to get back to the ship before the Goa'uld in your back seat wakes up.' John shot back. 'Go. We'll be fine.'

'John…'

'Not arguing about it, Mitchell. Go.' John signalled to Lovell, did a quick check of the area and they both ran for the undamaged helicopter.

John could hear his breathing, harsh and loud; he could feel every sharp breath in the pull of his muscles; the deck jarred his legs with every step. The patter of gunfire in front of them had them lurching to the side. John tapped his earpiece again as he dived to the floor as another stream of shots hit too close.

'Rodney! I need that beaming technology now!'

'I can't perform miracles!' Rodney replied.

Lovell grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He turned for the damaged chopper. It would be fine; he'd flown with worse damage. He yanked the door open.

A shot rang out and slapped into his shoulder.

He jerked violently.

'No!' Lovell's body covered his and she returned fire. Her body shuddered as it took shot after shot and she slumped to the ground. The gunman was dead; hit by Lovell's zat fire. John stooped to help Lovell, ignoring the pain that shot through him.

'Go!' Lovell said weakly. 'Go. Tell Stanley…' her voice trailed off and the light went out of her eyes.

He felt for a pulse. There was none. He closed his eyes briefly against the guilt that flooded through him. He'd promised her sanctuary and he'd failed to keep his promise. He stepped back and threw himself into the helicopter, snapping the door shut behind him.

The rotors started up; the engine engaged. He shuck off the coat, strapped in and slipped on the headset, removing the earpiece. He reached for the cyclic and the stick. His shoulder protested the movement and he glanced down to see the widening spread of blood on the flight suit under his coat.

John gritted his teeth and took to the air. He could see the 302 finally whirling around and shooting upwards towards the Odyssey; towards safety. Mitchell was safe; Amy was safe. John only had to stay airborne long enough to survive; for Rodney to beam him home…

Chapter 26