Stargate Atlantis: Latitude

Chapter 17 - Pursuit

John was reaching for Rodney before he even hit the ground.  He grabbed hold of Rodney's belt and hauled him to his feet, seeing the patrol leader's weapon swinging up toward him.  Pushing Rodney ahead of him into the dark recesses of the shop, John ducked and jinked to one side, knowing he had successfully avoided the first shot as a shelf of tinned food exploded above his head.

Barrelling through the shop and storeroom behind, John pushed any and all shelving and loose goods over in his wake.  Another shot thundered out hitting a stack of glass jars and John felt his side peppered with fragments.  Then suddenly he was out in the bright light and saw Rodney's legs above him, shinning up a drainpipe for all he was worth.  John slammed the metal door shut and heaved a rainwater barrel in front of it.  The door immediately clanged with a heavy impact and the barrel shifted.

John sprang up the drainpipe, the challenge nothing at all after the ship's rigging.  He pulled himself over on to the roof to see Rodney haring away over the rooftops, slipping and sliding on the loose, uneven tiles.  John followed, caught him up, saw the gap in the roofs, yelled, "Keep going!" and launched himself, arms flailing, into the air.  People in the alley below looked up and called out.  He crashed onto the tiles and then Rodney crashed beside him, legs hanging over the edge, dangling out over the alley.  John hauled on Rodney's arm, pulling him up and then they were off again.

The smash of tiles under booted feet came from behind them.  "Zig zag!" yelled John, and Rodney, no stranger to evasive manoeuvres, ran this way and that as tiles exploded around them, the shards cutting their legs.  John headed for an area where flat roofs were interspersed with domes large and small and, hearing Rodney's laboured breathing, took him by the hand and dragged him left and right and this way and that in a desperate attempt to lose their pursuit.

A curtained balcony beckoned and John vaulted over the stone parapet pulling Rodney behind him, dived through the curtains and stilled them with his hands, smoothing the motion of their passing.  Fingers to his lips, he glared at Rodney, who tried hard to silence his gasping.

They moved silently to the inner door.  John pulled it open, peered round the corner and stepped carefully forward.  They found themselves in a galleried courtyard, a fountain playing below them and potted palms creating an atmosphere of cool and calm.  Their sandaled feet made little noise padding along the smooth wooden floor of the galleries and they crept down the flights of stairs, feet close to the side of each tread to avoid any creaking.

They were nearly at the bottom when a girl carrying a tray of cool drinks turned the corner at the base of the stairs and seeing them, froze in astonishment.  John, taking an opportunity, gave the girl a cheeky grin and snatched up two of the glasses, thrust one at Rodney and downed the other himself.  The girl, deciding she was outraged, screamed and threw the tray at John.  They ran.  Through a high arched entranceway and out once more into the narrow crowded alleyways of the market. 

"Slow down!" hissed John.  "Blend in!" But the girl's screams had done their job.  John and Rodney hadn't gone fifty yards before soldiers burst out of the archway, faltered for a few seconds and then, with cries of "Stop!  Lighters!" began their relentless pursuit once more.

The crowd, hearing the soldiers' shouts also turned against them and snatched at their clothes as they ran.  Two determined-looking men stepped out, blocking the alley completely, but John and Rodney had been up against determined opponents before; John ducked a blow, swung his fist and caught his man hard in the throat, Rodney used the momentum of his headlong flight to dive under his opponent's fist and smack into his knees, toppling the man over like a bowling ball knocking down a pin.  Then John grabbed Rodney's arm and they were off once more, fighting their way through a hoard of angry shoppers, forcing their way through with a punch here, a kick there.