The Meet

 The Meet

A Story from my Stargate Fan Fiction "Quiet Professionals" Series 

The overhead blared through speakers in the space station’s ready room as a blue blinking light started flashing, warning the occupants a gate was about to activate.

The room was utilitarian in design the same way the mess room on a submarine exploited every inch of space, and the four-person away team had somehow managed to spread themselves and their gear across the entire room.

One wall held a small pantry, microwave, and fridge, the other a TV, interactive station status board, and row of digital clocks. Bolted tables and chairs filed the middle of the room, with a bike and treadmill in the other corner. The walls were painted in warm, soothing colors, while HVAC, pipes and cabling snaked across the ceiling.

“Pegasus IGB incoming activation.”

CIA case officer Monica Sharp could feel the subtle shaking in the space station as she put down her tea. She checked the row of clocks showing UTC, Mountain time, Station time, and Atlantis time.

The gate’s activation was 12 minutes into the second pre-planned thirty-minute comms window for the mission.

“Looks like ET’s phoning home,” she quipped. Dante, the large African American man in the corner with the large, iced coffee sighed and put away his phone, which had been streaming a movie over the station’s Wi-Fi. In one long, loud slurp he drained his coffee.

Alan, an older male at the table stuffed the Lantean-designed life signs detector (LSD) he had been fiddling with into his pocket without comment. The petite woman to Monica’s right stood up and bent her back in a long stretch, hands on her hip.

“Oh thank god, I’m so bored if I had to spend another cycle in here, I might have taken Anders up on his proposition,” said the brown-haired Suzie sarcastically, referring to Anders Tildemann, the Finish International Oversight Advisor (IOA) Field Division staffer who had relentlessly flirted with her last night in the station’s canteen.

“I’m not sure Dennis would have approved,” said Alan, the security team leader, referring to Suzie’s dirt-side boyfriend.

“Hey, what happens in another galaxy,” Suzie started,

“Stays in another galaxy,” everyone on the team finished the line for her at the same time. It was a well-known truth that wedding rings often disappeared the moment away teams went off world.

Monica and her security detail shouldered their gear and collected their weapons. They were all calm, their movements efficient and practiced as they helped each other mount their packs.

She and her team all gathered by the door and waited. The Space Force sentry nodded to Monica as he tapped his badge to the code reader, then entered the security code into the Hirsch pad. The door slid open into Pegasus Gate’s embarkation hall.

"Hopefully the Dramamine works this time," Dante quipped besides Monica. She scowled: at age 43, she was an experienced CIA case officer with multiple overseas tours to India, Pakistan, and Afghanistan, was about to initiate her third source meeting since being assigned to CIA’s Stargate Station in Colorado Springs. But it didn’t save her from shit talking.

Monica was average height, average weight, straight brownish hair in a ponytail with nondescript facial features that nobody could really describe or remember after meeting her. As her training officer had said back at the Farm a lifetime ago, she was perfectly forgettable, a high complement for a case officer, if a backhanded one. But it made her ideal for this line of work.

She stepped into the embarkation hall, along with her security team from CIA’s Global Response Staff (GRS). They were all dressed in nondescript off-world clothing, wore packs designed by CIA’s props department to mimic a Vedeena design, and carried large amounts of Vedeena currency. Underneath their outerwear they wore body army and chest rigs stuffed with mags and accessories. However, each member carried long guns which were obviously Earth-designed. Monica looked up at the command-and-control room as they walked up to the yellow safety line painted on the floor.

The duty officer in C2, a Space Force officer on his three-month rotation to Pegasus Gate, held up a finger to wait, as he stood over two enlisted Guardian’s shoulders, all of them behind two-inch security glass. In front of Monica and her team stood the Stargate. The Iris was closed.

On both side walls remote-operated weapon mounts swung into position two meters above their heads.

The port side mount was a M134 six-barreled mini-gun that began to hum as the electric motor was activated. The starboard mount carried twin Mk47 Striker belt-fed automatic 40mm grenade launchers. Nicknamed Thor and Loki, they were 2/3 of the standard defensive armaments which now guarded every IGB gate operated by Stargate command.

Behind Monica’ team was the final third of the embarkation hall’s weapon layout; Odin, a circular Metal Storm canister built directly into the far wall, perfectly aligned to fill the entire event horizon of the Stargate. It fired 16,000 armor piercing rounds per second, loaded with six seconds worth of rounds.

Monica knew the Wraith, or any other hostile force from the Pegasus galaxy accessing the Milky Way galaxy had been central to the IGB’s redesign. In addition to the weapons, there were tanks filled with OC ready to flood the hall with incapacitating chemical irritants, an emergency vacuum failsafe to void all air from the hall, and a quick-drying anti-mobility foam which could in 15 seconds fill the entire hall and everyone in it in a solid mass of rock-hard polymer. What a way to go, Monica thought.

The Iris in front of them remained closed because they were merely waiting for a communication from Atlantis. SG-25, one of the dedicated ultra long range reconnaissance SG teams in the Stargate regiment, had gone ahead 48 hours earlier to set up covert surveillance on the Stargate portal on Vedeena, while her team stayed out of sight on Pegasus Gate to clear bio-quarantine and adjust from the Universal Time maintained by Homeward and Stargate commands to Vedeena local time which was +7 UTC.

Unless SG-25 sent them a coded all clear via Atlantis, their mission was a no-go, which would be a significant setback for CIA’s efforts to monitor Genii activity. Their source, a gray market smuggler who frequently traded with Genii mercenary bands, was only going to be on Vedeena for a few days. They had to meet during that scheduled operational window.

“We’re receiving a transmission now,” the duty officer said over the PA. Twenty seconds passed. He looked up and locked eyes with Monica. “Verification confirmed. It’s SG-25. Message reads, “Steak dinner. Repeat, steak dinner.”

Monica smiled at the code-word for mission activation and looked at Alan Hoss, her GRS team lead. “Good to go?” Protocol required a last verbal check before responding.

“We’re a go,” confirmed Alan simply. Monica saw her team all subtly shift the weight of their weapons and packs in anticipation. They had proven themselves dirt side many times before being offered a slot in CIA’s Stargate station. She knew they were solid.

“Control, mission 39 Bravo is good to go.” At the same time she held up two thumbs up. Protocol demanded both a verbal and nonverbal response so there was no misunderstanding.

“Confirmed 39 Bravo. Starting outbound dialing sequence.” Gate travel was omni-directional, so they had to hang up, and then dial out. In front of them they could see the gate power down, and then seconds later start dialing Atlantis while the Iris retracted.

The automated voice announced the chevron sequence. At “chevron eight locked,” the event horizon bulged out and then settled into place.

The improved IGB had three segments, similar to Tor nodes on the Internet. The first segment started in the Milky Way galaxy and extended past it into interstellar space. That station was nicknamed Ellis Gate. The middle segment in interstellar space approximately where the old Midway station was located was known as New Midway. The third segment in interstellar space just outside the Pegasus galaxy was Pegasus Gate. As the ultimate failsafe, New Midway was outfitted with an upgraded, sub-kiloton special atomic demolition munition designed by Oak Ridge for the unforgiving environment of deep space.

“Let’s go”, stated Monica simply as she moved forward.

“Time to take a little ride people!” Dante said excitedly. He got a rush every time he stepped through a gate. All four marched stepped onto the departure ramp. Monica couldn’t help it. She took a deep breath and held it as she hit the EV. Mentally she felt she was stepping into water.

***

The trip took eight minutes, an eternity for a Stargate connection, but as always for the travelers it felt instantaneous. All they sensed was the short, sharp kawoosh effect as they were dematerialized into the hyperspatial buffer and then rematerialized as they crossed out of the EV onto Atlantis.

***

The team stayed on Atlantis just long enough to get a last-minute intelligence update about Vedeena from the “State Department” employee assigned to Atlantis. Once briefed, Atlantis dialed Vedeena for them and the team were off again to their final destination.

"Hey, good job Monica, you didn’t puke!" Alan said helpfully. Suzie casually flipped him off behind Monica’s back. As Monica’s personal bodyguard on the team, Suzie protected Monica’s honor as well.

 

***

CIA’s GRS security details have a simple mandate - escort case officers into dangerous environments and keep any hostiles at bay while the case officer did their job. A difficult enough task dirt side, off world it was a whole different beast, which is why CIA pulled the absolute best from GRS for assignment to Stargate station.

Alan and Dante stepped onto Vedeena first, weapons up and scanning left and right as they entered a grass-filled meadow surrounded by light tree growth on a beautifully sunny day.

“Welcome back to Vedeena motherfuckers,” muttered Alan as he moved forward. He had six previous missions to Vedeena under his belt, and none of them had gone smoothly. He was convinced the world was jinxed.

Alan Hoss, age 37, short cropped graying hair, married with one kid, swept his suppressed HK-416 in a measured motion scanning for hostiles. Only 5’9”, the former 75th Ranger Regiment E6 was an experienced off-world operator. This was his third GRS tour with CIA’s Stargate Station and his seventy-third off world mission, a record for any GRS member. After five meters he took a knee to the left of the Stargate facing outward.

Opposite Alan, Dante Givens, 6’2” African American aged 29 mirrored his boss, sweeping the tree line to his right with a suppressed SCAR-H. Former MARSOC, the Marine vet had a smile on his face after coming through the EV. Something about gate travel just worked for him. The team’s commo and demo member, he took a knee to the right, panning his rifle slowly back and forth.

Monica and Suzie came out together. Monica preferred a short barrel HK-416 while Suzie sported a MP-7a. Nobody used P-90s anymore. Their weapons, like Alan and Dante’s, were suppressed.

Monica stopped, bent over, and violently threw up. The team pretended not to notice, although Alan smirked, just a little. Monica wiped her lips and kept moving, held by the arm and gently but firmly directed by Suzie.

Suzie Wilcox, age 33, active-duty Army on loan to the Agency, was also on her third tour. She had been around as long as Alan and they often worked together. Her teammates knew she came from a special mission unit under Intelligence Support Activity, nicknamed TF Orange, but she never said which one, and not even her boyfriend Dennis knew the truth. She was a language and SIGINT specialist.

Monica and Suzie squatted in the meadow between Alan and Dante, scanning the field. Just then a light flashed from the tree line to the left, three quick followed by two long flashes.

“Contact left,” Alan said in a measured voice, rifle not quite pointing at the light source. Dante and Sue shifted to cover left. “I got movement in the tree line, multiple contacts.”

He checked his Mk3 life signs detector. “I’m reading five contacts. Sending the IFF code.” The Americans had extensively tinkered with the LSD over the last 15 years, adding short range IFF among other improvements to avoid blue-on-blue incidents.

Everyone assigned to the Stargate regiment, CIA’s Stargate station, and select members of all the other Tier 1 JSOC units underwent a gene therapy regimen as part of their assignment so they could operate Ancient technology like the LSD. The gene therapy was a sub-compartmented program. The IOA and foreign partners outside select Five Eye units like 22 SAS were not aware the gene therapy program existed.

The MK3 could also power phones and tablets with an added USB-C port, something away teams had consistently put at the top of their wish list for most requested upgrade.

Monica could feel the GRS members’ tension increase as they waited for the LSD to confirm a friendly IFF. She knew this was the moment when it could all go south if they had walked into a well laid Genii ambush.

Monica for her part looked up, scanning the sky and after a moment found a small quadcopter hovering above them.

“I got overwatch at our 3 O’Clock. 300 meters vertical,” announced Monica.

“IFF confirmed,” said Alan.

“Now we’re in business,” muttered Dante.

“Alan, call them in,” said Monica. Alan toggled the light attached to his rifle.

A man stepped out of the tree line and waved a hand. They had successfully made contact with SG-25. Behind the first individual, four additional very tan men stepped out of the tree line sporting a variety of weapons. Like Monica’s team, for this mission they were dressed in civilian clothes, but they didn’t bother concealing their gear.

Quick greetings pivoted quickly to the combined team heading out in extended order once the UAV was secured, Monica and Suzie in the middle of the line or march. They had to maintain operational security, and it was a two-hour march to the safe house. The group headed out.

Unbeknownst to them, to the rear of the Stargate, a camouflaged sensor mounted in a tree recorded the energy signatures of two near back-to-back Stargate activations. It was programmed to always wait for three hours after the latest sensor reading and then transmitted its logs.

***

After an uneventful hike to the safe house a few kilometers outside of town, rented by a local Vedeenan on CIA’s payroll, Monica and Suzie set up for the debrief and then and her GRS team headed out to the market, this time with only pistols concealed under their outer wear. Suzie was monitoring known Genii frequencies for any transmissions with a miniaturized receiver under her cloak.

As they left, SG-25 was taking the camouflage netting off two customized electric powered Light Tactical All-Terrain Vehicles (LTATVs) at the edge of the field, each of which had seating for six, and M240s mounted on the front and rear of each vehicle.

“We know from the latest intel there has been no Genii activity here for some time. Primary threats are going to be local pickpockets, muggers, or drunks,” Alan had briefed before they left. “Stay sharp, we need to minimize any conflicts to avoid drawing any attention to ourselves.”

Monica had then gone over the contact plan while they stood in the safe house kitchen, eating sandwiches and drinking hot tea.

Every day at 1600 local while on planet, her source would stroll once through the market of the town nearest the Stargate. If counter surveillance was clean, Monica would make a brief contact to tell him which walking trail to take out of town. Then they would cycle back to the pickup point. The source, named Gellart, would walk to the pickup point after waiting 30 minutes, unknowingly passing an observation spot set up by SG-25’s scout/sniper team.

If they gave the all clear, Monica and the GRS team would intercept the source on the road at a designated point 200 meters short of what the source thought was the pickup point. Ever since FOB Chapman in 2009 when an Al-Qaeda double agent killed multiple CIA personnel with a suicide vest in Afghanistan, the initial contact with a CIA source in potentially hostile territory had been treated as a delicate and dangerous moment.

“We’ve rehearsed this multiple times before we left,” reminded Monica in the kitchen. “Dante and Suzie step out from either side of the road to cover him.” They nodded. “Alan approaches and frisks the source, then bags him. Suzie sweeps him for tech. If he’s all clear, we call in SG-25 for pickup.” They all nodded.

“Game faces everyone,” quipped Suzie, “this is why we earn those frequent flyer miles.”

***

They arrived in the market at 1530. Since the Wraith had been vanquished, the town had grown exponentially over the last 15 years and was no longer a small village but a bustling regional market town due to its placement by the Stargate, that relied on local and interplanetary trade, both by ship and gate. There was easily over a thousand people in the market, and it was much easier for the team to blend in than in the old days. But it made countersurveillance harder.

Suzie stayed with Monica while Alan and Dante held back and roamed around the perimeter of the market, looking for physical surveillance. Suzie continued her electronic monitoring. Vedeena being an iron-age planet, the frequency spectrum was unsurprisingly quiet.

At 1605 Alan reported on the team channel.

“Target entering the market from the west," he said - an arbitrary definition by the Space Force, given Vedeena had no magnetic poles.

“I got him,” replied Dante. “Beige jacket, blue boots, belt knife, shoulder length hair heading toward the vegetable stands.” He scanned the crowd to see if anyone else was paying Gellart any attention. They watched as they moved with the crowd, keeping Gellart in sight.

***

The source was directed to only stay in the market area for 20 minutes a day during the contact window. Monica waited until the time was almost up to give her GRS team as much time as possible to spot surveillance.

Monica sidled up next to him for a few seconds at a stall.

“Your mother sends her regards from Sateda,” she said, never looking at him.

“Ahh, I missed her this last holiday” replied Gellart with the countersign.

“Walk down the walking trail next to the revenue office to your right…” Monica nodded towards her right shoulder, “…in 10 minutes and we’ll greet you at the bend by the river.” With that she separated from the source. He stayed at the stall, looking at the wares on the table.

“Contact made. Dante, tell SG-25 we are on our way.”

In two pairs they made their way to the designated walking trail and headed down it. Each group passed the OP without incident and met at the real pickup point before the river. The OP reported nobody had followed them.

***

15 kilometers away the Stargate activated. A war band of 30 heavily armed Genii mercenaries exited and were met by their local contact who had reported the anomalous gate activity.

The war band was led by a man named Koit, who was violently opposed to the Genii’s tenuous treaty for the last 15 years with Atlantis, and had attacked Earth delegations on several worlds. CIA and JSOC’s TF7 had him near the top of their Pegasus Galaxy kill/capture list under the current administration’s lethal covert finding on eliminating rogue Genii war bands. He was therefore a top debriefing topic for Monica.

***

It is truly a hot afternoon, thought Gellart. His home planet was generally much cooler. I really would have preferred meeting in the tavern. He had been walking for a kilometer, and he knew he would see the river soon.

Two individuals rose out of the tall grass, weapons drawn. He stopped and raised his hands slowly, nodding in greeting.

“Hello there friends,” he said in his most calm, non-threatening voice.

This was not his first meet with the new Atlanteans’ as they were informally known. One of them tugged at their waistband - a nonverbal cue which Gellart grasped after a moment's confusion. He slowly lifted his shirt to show he had no concealed weapons, rotating in a circle as he did so.

A gray-haired man stepped out holding a hood in his hand.

He said: “I’m going to put this on you now then search you.”

Gellart nodded. The hood went over his head, and he felt the man expertly frisk him, finding and taking his data crystal, money pouch, digital storage device, personal communicator, and knife.

Alan motioned to Suzie, who came over with a large faraday bag. Alan dropped them into the bag which Suzie sealed. Gellart could sense her scanning him.

“All clear.”

Monica stepped onto the path. “Call in the rides.” The rest of SG-25 was waiting just over the river in a grove of trees with the two LTATVs.

“Two minutes,” reported Dante.

“Two minutes,” everyone repeated in rote fashion.

Monica started her security debrief right there on the trail while they waited.

“Greetings friend, I have to ask you some immediate questions for all our safety. First, do you believe you were followed or does anyone now you were meeting us?”

“No ma’am. This was a regular trading trip. I have several meetings scheduled and cargo to deliver or receive at my warehouse I rent on this planet.”

“Good. In case we are met by anyone, we are also traders looking to make a deal with you for Genii technology. Understood?”

“Yes, and I have much available it you’re interested,” replied Gellart hopefully.

“That’s ok. Maybe next time. Are you aware of any threats to Atlantis?”

“No, the Genii have been consumed by conflict between rival war bands. They have no time for Atlantis. And the former Wraith are still hunted as war criminals and have fled to the far reaches of the galaxy.”

“Good, good…" Monica could hear the hum of the approaching vehicles.

The two LTATVs silently rolled up. Alan and Dante put Gellart in a seat and buckled him in. Monica sat next to him, while the rest of the team filled the remaining seats. There were three members of SG-25, the driver of their vehicle, and two in the first vehicle. The scout/sniper team would stay in place. Alan pounded the dash.

“Let’s go!” They rolled out, the GRS team with pistols in hand watching the flanks as they went. Everyone had on headsets for comms. Both vehicles entered the river, really a large stream, and instead of exiting the far bank, turned down the stream, driving slowly for 700 meters along the streambed before exiting.

During the final drive to the safe house, Suzie looked at Monica in sudden alarm and said over the team frequency, “We just had a flurry of encrypted transmissions on a Genii channel. Signal strength was medium, maybe ten clicks out, probably in the vicinity of the Stargate.”

“Shit,” said Monica, things were going so well.

***

Genii activity changed the equation. Monica and Suzie escorted the source inside and removed the hood. After using the toilet and giving him a bottle of water, they sat Gellart in the chair they had designated for the debrief. A pot of Vedeenan sweet tea and local treats sat to the side of the table. On the chair lay a sensor pad. Across the table from him was a small video recorder and boom mic like you would find in a deposition, along with a thermal sensor.

“We don’t have as long as we planned. Are you sure the Genii did not know you were here?”

“No, this is not a planet I trade with them on. They prefer more isolated planets. I swear it.”

Monica pressed him several more times.

“Gellart, this is important to us continuing to work together that you are telling the truth. We can’t pay you if you’re lying.”

“I swear it’s the truth! I followed protocol to the letter.” Gellart was getting nervous: he had never been challenged like this before. He began to realize something had her rattled.

Monica watched her computer screen as he talked. The camera, microphone, thermal sensor, and seat pad recorded physiological and non-verbal activity in his body and on his face. In addition to recording the debrief for later, all the data was running through an AI algorithm which operated like an advanced lie detector test. The system’s dashboard stayed blue. He was telling the truth.

“OK, let’s move on to the questions then. I have several topics I want to go over.” They had planned for two types of debriefs, a long one and a truncated one limited to priority topics. Monica mentally shifted to the shorter list of the highest priority topics and they began.

***

Outside the room, Alan and Dante coordinated with SG-25. The OP was still across the river. Alan had the SG team recharge the ATVs and load their gear now in case of a hasty departure.

“Dante, sweep the perimeter. Stay on comms.”

All business now, Dante nodded and jogged out of the house and disappeared into the meadow. In the courtyard two members of SG-25 hustled to load their gear while the third launched a UAV.

***

Three hours into the debrief, Suzie reported to Monica that transmissions on known Genii frequencies were continuing: some closer, some farther. It felt to Suzie like they were conducting searches but didn’t have an area to focus on. Monica nodded and kept going. Soon after they got a report from the OP.

“OP reports a four-man team came up the road, obviously man tracking. The OP team followed them at a distance. They report the hostiles found the footprints and LTATV tracks at the pickup site, reported it in, and then followed them to the river before doubling back.”

Times up! Thought Monica. We need to get the Gellart out of here. “Right…” she looked at Suzie and toggled the common channel. “Brushfire, brushfire, brushfire.” It was the code word for an emergency exfil from the planet.

***

Things happened fast after that. Monica and Gellart went over final instructions again for his cover story and for the next meeting. She gave him his payment, which was substantial.

Then they bagged him, put him in an LTATV, and two members of SG-25 raced him to a pre-planned drop-off point eight kilometers in the opposite direction from the river. He would have a long walk back to town, but anyone who met him wouldn’t be able to link him to the safe house. Monica wouldn’t know if Gellart survived the day for another three months. Such was the life of operating a source multiple billions of miles from home.

***

The LTATV returned from dropping off the source, just as the scout/sniper team arrived. They reported twenty heavily armed Genii cautiously advancing towards the river. This was confirmed minutes later by the drone operator as dusk settled in, creating a beautiful pink sky.

“Police the house and yard - no trash, no food, nothing left here to tie us to the house.” While SG-25 stood guard, Monica and the GRS team swept the house and yard, bagging any trash and stuffing it in a vehicle. They swept up footprints in the dust with a pair of brooms to limit tracking, and wiped finger and hand prints from all the surfaces in the house, but there was nothing they could do about tire impressions in the fields.

With everyone loaded up, SG-25’s team lead, a 1st Lt who was a rather intense and non-smiling Air Force Academy graduate from Nebraska, now took over OPCON for the mission. “We’ll roll out opposite from where we dropped the source. We have the battery power to make a wide loop around the back of the Stargate and hold at emergency rendezvous three.” The mission had several pre-planned emergency rally points based on extensive overhead imagery taken over the last five years from puddle jumper missions.

“At the RV we’ll hole up and then close on the Stargate at 0300 to exfil to Atlantis.” Alan made eye contact with Monica and everyone on his team and saw no objections.

“Sounds solid, let’s get people moving,” Alan replied. Unconsciously, he checked the placement of his ready mag on his hip in the kydex holster, something he did when he expected to get into a firefight.

With a hand signal from the Cornhusker, they rolled out into the night, vehicles purring in their electric drive.

***

At the RV they scouted the Stargate with the quadcopter.

“We got a five-man recon team staked out watching the Stargate here, essentially the same place we were set up,” said the SG-25 commander, pointing at his map on the tablet. The quadcopter had picked them up on thermal.

“The main band is at the safe house,” said Suzie, based on her monitoring of Genii transmissions. They had been getting sloppy, or somebody was having encryption problems with their radio, because half the transmissions at this point were in plain text. “They’ve been ordered to burn the house and proceed here.” The SG commanded nodded thoughtfully.

“We’ll need to take this route with the LTATVs to get to the gate, hold long enough at the DHD to dial up Atlantis, then we can drive through. As long as the rest of the Genii don’t show up in time, killing the recon team should be easy.”

Monica and Alan shared a look. This was going from bad to worse for the mission’s operational security.

“If at all possible, we want to avoid any direct conflict with the Genii so they can’t confirm we were here. What other options do we have?” Monica inquired. The SG leader frowned. They all sat silent for a moment.

“I got an idea,” said the UAV operator.

***

At 0300, the two LTATVs silently crept towards the Stargate: everyone was tense, scanning tree lines through NGVs, weapons at the low ready. The drone operator launched her quadcopter with a Statue of Liberty pose from the back of the first vehicle. Silently it rose into the sky. She quietly provided updates over the common frequency.

“Nothing near us…” Pause…

“The recon team is still in place.”

“The main force is moving towards us but still several kilometers away,” reported Suzie.

Monica and the SG commander looked at each other and shrugged. Through NVGs, each appeared as a green outline to the other.

“What the hell," she said, "give it a try.”

The commander whispered into his throat mic. “Specialist Park, do it.”

“Roger that sir,” she said quietly, a smile spreading over her face. This was something they had been gaming out among the UAV operators in the regiment but had never had a chance to try in the field. She manipulated her controls to put the drone directly over the Stargate. “It’s Rave time…”

A series of blood curdling noises mimicking a Wraith Dart engaged in culling filled the night air. At the same time, multicolored strobe lights flashed from the UAV. The specialist moved the UAV back and forth for 30 seconds like that, twice diving towards the recon team before backing off. After the 30 seconds she killed the sound and light show because it burned up battery power quickly.

Yelling and gunfire filled the air. “Report!” Tension rippled through everyone. The sound of a Wraith’s Dart conducting a culling run instinctively gave any Tau’ri a sense of dread, including Monica and her team.

“They are shitting their pants sir! They have scattered and are fleeing away from the Stargate in an uncoordinated retreat. Now 200+ meters from the Stargate and making tracks.” A member of the scout/sniper team slapped Park’s leg in admiration.

“Go, go, go!” The commander didn’t hesitate as he ordered the drivers to head for the gate. This was their window. The LTATV’s shot forward, closing the distance in less than two minutes.

Dante hopped out of the first vehicle and raced to the DHD while Alan stood back-to-back with him, rifle up, scanning through his NVG monocular. Alan quietly directed potential fields of fire for the combined force over the common channel using his on-weapon IR laser. Monica and the GRS team all sported light-weight monocular NGV’s on head straps while SG-25 rocked the Zero Dark 30-famous four tube NGVs attached to ballistic helmets.

Dante dialed the gate to Atlantis without any issues. The noise of the gate dialing sounded deafening in the sudden stillness after the UAV deception.

“The recon team has heard the gate dialing. They’re stopped and beginning to head back!” Specialist Park reported excitedly. “300 meters out!”

The last chevron locked and the EV exploded into existence.

“Send the damn code Dante,” whispered Alan. He flicked the safety off on his rifle.

“Way ahead of you boss,” Dante replied. “IDC sent. Waiting for confirmation the Iris is open.” After an eternity Dante’s IDC device blinked green.

“We’re good. Go!” Alan waved towards the LTATV’s. The driver of the first vehicle didn’t hesitate, driving smartly through the Stargate, with Monica, Suzie, the sniper team and drone operator. Specialist Park flew the UAV through the EV directly over the first vehicle at high speed as they crossed, not bothering to slow it down to land.

Alan and Dante ran to the 2nd LTATV and hopped on, holding the side rails as it drove through the gate. Once again, they experienced the kawoosh. Moments later they were in Atlantis.

The Genii recon team arrived 30 seconds later to find an empty field.

As soon as they crossed the EV into Atlantis and it closed behind them, Alan and Dante saw Monica puking on her boots.

"Keeping up tradition," Alan quipped, as the adrenaline still surged through him. That one had been close.

Monica weakly smiled but didn't care - it was mission accomplished.

Notes:

This is a work of fiction prepared by the author in their personal capacity. The events and opinions expressed in this story are the author's own and do not reflect the views of the United States Government.