"It's the Collector, isn't it?" Ryan asked, leaning against the doorframe as he interrupted Sheppard and McKay's hushed arguement.
"We don't have proof..." Sheppard began.
"Footage of a half dozen victims slowly dying in a hotel room without windows? Who else is it gonna be, Sheppard?" Ryan asked. "I'll bet the room layout is identical to the last two Musuems, and I know the victims we've identified fit the profile."
"We still don't know for sure," Sheppard said carefully.
"It most likely is, though," McKay said, not as cautious as Sheppard but still watching for Ryan's reaction.
"And this time, the SOB's gonna get caught, right?" Ryan said.
"We'll get him," Sheppard agreed.
~~~~
It was strange. Ten years, almost to the day since Sheppard first encountered The Collector's handiwork after stumbling upon one of his musueams and the 20 bodies within, they caught the guy.
Ryan had been in the lab when they'd gone to make the arrest, and Sheppard had asked McKay to make sure Ryan stayed distracted until after the guy was out of interrogation and into a cell, he didn't want Ryan to run into the guy, didn't want to deal with the fall out of that.
That plan went to hell when they were hauling the SOB down the hall and the ground started shaking beneath their feet. One minute, the officers had a good grip of the guy's arms, the next they were ont eh ground and the Collector was down the hall, running as fast as he could, straight towards the labs.
Sheppard swore under his breath as he stuggled to his feet, the ground still shaking, and stumbled after him, intent on getting to him before he got to Ryan. The last thing he wanted to see was Ryan having to deal with this.
By the time he got there, though, The Collector was standing directly in front of Ryan, who was visibly shaking, face white as a sheet.
"My one mistake," the Collector said. "I should have gone in and checked your pulse before giving them the tip."
"You should have," Ryan agreed, his voice shaking slightly. "Then you wouldn't have gotten caught."
"What? You figured it out?" The Collector said with a laugh.
"I tracked the webcam, asshole," Ryan said.
"It would be so much fun to break you again," The Collector said, stepping forward.
"Stay right where you are," Sheppard said, pulling his gun.
"Am I suppose to be scared of you?" The Collector said, turning.
An aftershock hit, sending them both to the floor, and Sheppard's gun skittered out of his hands and towards the Collector.
"My my... how inter..." The Collector began, only to cut off as a gunshot rang out. He looked down at his chest and the blood spreading out from a neat little whole, then collapsed onto the floor.
Sheppard looked up to see Ryan holding his own gun, hands steady at first, then beginning to shake almost as much as the floor had. "Ashole," he said before sinking down to sit on the floor against the wall as the other officers ran up, guns drawn. He slowly put the safety on the gun and set it down. "One bullet missing from the clip, one chambered," he said.
"You alright?" Sheppard asked as he stepped apst the body to check on his coworker.
"He's dead, so I am good," Ryan said. "Did you find the victim on the webcam?"
"She's at the hospital," Sheppard said. "She'll be fine."
"What the hell is going on?" McKay demanded as he arrived, taking in the dead body and the way Ryan was shaking. "Oh."
"Come on, you need to give an official statement, then I say we go get beers, celebrate getting that asshole out of the gene pool."
"Yes, because beer that tastes like piss is a good way to celebrate," McKay said, rolling his eyes. "We're taking him somewhere that serves good beer."
"Canadian beer is not better than American," Sheppard replied.
"Of course it is!" McKay said.
Ryan smiled, the shaking edging away. If there was one thing he could count on the two idiots he worked with, it was making everything seem normal by bickering like five year-olds.
"I'm more in the mood for hard liquor," Ryan interrupted, pushing himself off the floor. "And a lot of it."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-12-31 06:31 pm (UTC)"It's the Collector, isn't it?" Ryan asked, leaning against the doorframe as he interrupted Sheppard and McKay's hushed arguement.
"We don't have proof..." Sheppard began.
"Footage of a half dozen victims slowly dying in a hotel room without windows? Who else is it gonna be, Sheppard?" Ryan asked. "I'll bet the room layout is identical to the last two Musuems, and I know the victims we've identified fit the profile."
"We still don't know for sure," Sheppard said carefully.
"It most likely is, though," McKay said, not as cautious as Sheppard but still watching for Ryan's reaction.
"And this time, the SOB's gonna get caught, right?" Ryan said.
"We'll get him," Sheppard agreed.
~~~~
It was strange. Ten years, almost to the day since Sheppard first encountered The Collector's handiwork after stumbling upon one of his musueams and the 20 bodies within, they caught the guy.
Ryan had been in the lab when they'd gone to make the arrest, and Sheppard had asked McKay to make sure Ryan stayed distracted until after the guy was out of interrogation and into a cell, he didn't want Ryan to run into the guy, didn't want to deal with the fall out of that.
That plan went to hell when they were hauling the SOB down the hall and the ground started shaking beneath their feet. One minute, the officers had a good grip of the guy's arms, the next they were ont eh ground and the Collector was down the hall, running as fast as he could, straight towards the labs.
Sheppard swore under his breath as he stuggled to his feet, the ground still shaking, and stumbled after him, intent on getting to him before he got to Ryan. The last thing he wanted to see was Ryan having to deal with this.
By the time he got there, though, The Collector was standing directly in front of Ryan, who was visibly shaking, face white as a sheet.
"My one mistake," the Collector said. "I should have gone in and checked your pulse before giving them the tip."
"You should have," Ryan agreed, his voice shaking slightly. "Then you wouldn't have gotten caught."
"What? You figured it out?" The Collector said with a laugh.
"I tracked the webcam, asshole," Ryan said.
"It would be so much fun to break you again," The Collector said, stepping forward.
"Stay right where you are," Sheppard said, pulling his gun.
"Am I suppose to be scared of you?" The Collector said, turning.
An aftershock hit, sending them both to the floor, and Sheppard's gun skittered out of his hands and towards the Collector.
"My my... how inter..." The Collector began, only to cut off as a gunshot rang out. He looked down at his chest and the blood spreading out from a neat little whole, then collapsed onto the floor.
Sheppard looked up to see Ryan holding his own gun, hands steady at first, then beginning to shake almost as much as the floor had. "Ashole," he said before sinking down to sit on the floor against the wall as the other officers ran up, guns drawn. He slowly put the safety on the gun and set it down. "One bullet missing from the clip, one chambered," he said.
"You alright?" Sheppard asked as he stepped apst the body to check on his coworker.
"He's dead, so I am good," Ryan said. "Did you find the victim on the webcam?"
"She's at the hospital," Sheppard said. "She'll be fine."
"What the hell is going on?" McKay demanded as he arrived, taking in the dead body and the way Ryan was shaking. "Oh."
"Come on, you need to give an official statement, then I say we go get beers, celebrate getting that asshole out of the gene pool."
"Yes, because beer that tastes like piss is a good way to celebrate," McKay said, rolling his eyes. "We're taking him somewhere that serves good beer."
"Canadian beer is not better than American," Sheppard replied.
"Of course it is!" McKay said.
Ryan smiled, the shaking edging away. If there was one thing he could count on the two idiots he worked with, it was making everything seem normal by bickering like five year-olds.
"I'm more in the mood for hard liquor," Ryan interrupted, pushing himself off the floor. "And a lot of it."
The End