The Games People Play by Denise
"I can not believe he was so completely careless and inept," a deep, cultured, voice snarled. "It was your man who recruited him. If there is any blame, it falls on your shoulders," the general insisted. "Regardless, I will not take the fall for YOUR mistakes. You can rest assured, I will not lie for you or Maybourne," declared Senator Kinsey as he hung up the phone. "He has become a liability," a third man stated. "I agree. However, we must be cautious. If we eliminate him too obviously it will just confirm people’s suspicions. And we are under far too much scrutiny already."
"Yes general. You are correct. But I think I may have a plan which will tie up many loose ends. In fact, if it is done correctly, it may seriously discredit the SGC itself. Maybe even lead to it being shut down or restructured at the very least," the man suggested slyly. ‘And put O’Neill exactly where I want him,’ he thought. "Bert, you’ve been trying to muck up the SGC since its inception. What makes you think you can finally get it right?" the general said, derision and contempt clear in his voice. "Because this time I will use them to discredit themselves, a plan elegant in its simplicity," Lt. Colonel Bert Samuels declared, his oily voice full of arrogance. "Very well. Play your games," the general replied negligently. "However, I will NOT tolerate public humiliation again. And I will have no knowledge of this. For once you will succeed or fail on you own," the older man said as he got up and left the elegant Washington DC den. "Oh I’m never on my own," Bert said quietly, as he took another sip of his brandy and stared into the fire.
~~~~~
"Damn it!" Major Samantha Carter heard the expletive ring through the cool quiet of the SGC parking facility as she unlocked her car door. Recognizing the voice and guessing its cause, she opened the door, tossed the small stack of work she was taking home into the back seat and went in search of her CO. She found Colonel Jack O’Neill just as he was popping the hood on his jeep and beginning to peer inside, his eyes obviously struggling to focus in the dim light of the parking area. She saw him wiggle a few wires then get back behind the wheel and try the ignition again. All she heard was a dull grinding noise and another string of extremely creative curses. "Sounds like your starter’s fried sir," she said as she walked up to his car, shoving her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. "Huh?" he asked absentmindedly as he got out of the vehicle, forcing Sam to take a few steps back to allow him to continue his trek back to the engine compartment. "The starter...it’s finished colonel," she said. "For crying out loud Carter, you an auto mechanic too?" Jack asked jokingly, having already reached the same conclusion. Sam shook her head, smiling. "No. But my car did exactly the same thing a few months ago."
"Well this is great. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was hang around waiting for a tow truck," Jack complained as he slammed the hood shut with a disgusted look. "I seriously doubt you’re going to get a tow truck tonight."
"Why not, it’s only 1900."
"Colonel, it’s 1900 on a Sunday night. Easter Sunday to be exact. It’ll probably take you until tomorrow to get one all the way out here," she said referring to the Cheyenne Mountain complex. Not only were they nearly 30 miles from the nearest city, Colorado Springs, they were also in the middle of nowhere. OK, civilian nowhere. There were plenty of military personnel around, but that actually made things more difficult. Cheyenne Mountain and the SGC were top secret facilities. That meant even when... if, a tow truck came it would be another half hour for them to clear the various checkpoints. Jack did a quick bit of math and realized he’d be lucky to get home by dawn. "Ah hell," he groaned wearily, slumping against the side of his jeep. "Maybe I’ll just go back downstairs and crash in my quarters." Sam knew exactly how he felt. Their quarters with the military issue bunks were certainly preferable to sleeping on the ground or during those times when you were just too damned tired to care where you slept. But there were times when a body simply craved a mattress that was a good eight inches thick covered with soft cotton sheets, feather pillows and maybe a down comforter rather than a three inch thick mattress with coarse standard issue sheets, a scratchy olive drab wool blanket and pillows so scrawny it took at least three to get a good nights rest. "Look colonel, it’s been a long day. Why don’t I give you a ride home? You can make arrangements about your car in the morning and I could give you a lift back," she offered. "Ya sure? I could just hang here, get some paperwork done."
"Four days in a rainy forest and you really want to hang around here?" she asked rhetorically remembering his lengthy diatribe during their cold, wet hike back to the gate and home. Sam normally had no problem roughing it. In fact, if they would just invent a portable hot water bath and softer ground she’d probably enjoy it a bit more. But their last mission had strained even Teal’c’s endurance. They’d only been a few hours away from the gate on P2Y931 when a storm rivaling a hurricane in its intensity struck. One minute they’d been walking through one of the ubiquitous pine forests the galaxy seemed so fond of, enjoying a balmy, if humid, spring-like day. The next, the wind picked up, the temperature plunged about 30 degrees and a cold rain, almost a sleet, began to fall. Despite the threat of lightening, Jack suggested they pitch the tents and wait it out. They did so and spent the next 24 hours huddled in their tiny shelters, fighting boredom as they got progressively colder and wetter. A fire was impossible and cooking sterno only gave off so much heat. As the hours went by the storm seemed only to intensify. And, true to SG-1’s luck, in the wee hours of the second night it got worse. About 0245, what Sam could only think of as a tornado struck nearby. The intense winds blew down limbs and even entire trees around them. Luckily everyone managed to get by with only a few cuts and scrapes for once. Their gear wasn’t so fortunate. The tents and most of their supplies were scattered to the winds and Colonel O’Neill decided to cut their losses, abandon their mission and go home before Noah put in an appearance. It took them 18 hours of nearly continuous hiking, actually it was more like slogging, through the mud and constant heavy rain, to reach the gate. After the first hour they were all soaked to the skin. As they got within sight of the gate they were actually wading through a foot or so of near freezing, standing water. Everything was so wet, even after sending the GDO signal, Jack still radioed ahead, just to make sure the batteries in the little device hadn’t gotten too soggy to work. As it turns out it was a good thing he did. The signal had been received but was incomplete. Siler and his team were going to be spending the next few days retrofitting all the GDOs to make them waterproof to 30 meters. Jack, Daniel and Teal’c commandeered the showers for nearly half an hour as Sam was getting her post-mission physical. She, however, was almost late for the debriefing after soaking in the hot tub so long her fingers were pruned when she got out. At least she had been starting to feel warm again. "Colonel, you can’t expect me to believe you’d rather hang around here instead of going home to a nice warm bed?" Sam asked knowing full well what his answer would be. "You’re sure you don’t mind?" he asked as he reached into the passenger seat and retrieved his bag. "If I minded I wouldn’t have offered," she replied as she led him back to her car. She got in and started the ignition, quickly turning down the blaring radio as Jack tossed his bag into the back seat and got in himself. Sam buckled her seat belt, put the car into gear and started her way down the mountain. As soon as she merged into traffic on the interstate highway fat raindrops began to splash on the windshield. "Great, more rain," Jack groused as Sam turned on the wipers. "34,000 light years away...could be the same storm," Sam suggested with a smile. "God I hope not. One tornado a week is enough."
"Yeah, it was a little... extreme."
"Extreme? For crying out loud Carter, I was expecting a cow to come flying by any second."
"What? No witch on a broomstick?" she asked as she switched lanes to pass a slow moving truck. "Maybourne on a Hoover. Now that would have made the mission from hell JUST perfect," Jack quipped. Sam shot him a quick look then began to laugh. "That’s a mental image that’s gonna haunt me for a while." Jack joined in her laughter for a moment, then an awkward silence fell over the car. Just as Sam was ready to turn up the radio to fill the void, Jack spoke up. "Ya know, the thought of that weasel in prison stripes was all that made those weeks bearable."
"Really?" Sam replied in a tone that told him she didn’t like the topic. Jack took the hint and they fell silent again. In fact she’d avoided every discussion he had tried to have about his incursion into Maybourne’s private little SGC. Then again, so had Daniel and Teal’c. As she took the exit off the interstate to Jack’s house Sam spoke up. "What do you think will happen to them?" she asked, almost hesitantly. "Them?" Jack asked, knowing what she was referring but delaying his answer. "The renegades, Colonels Maybourne and Makepeace," she clarified. Jack sighed, "I honestly don’t know. Seriously doubt I’ll ever get called to testify though."
"So what?...They just...disappear?" she asked incredulously. "Carter...Sam, trust me. There are some questions you don’t want to answer. And there IS such a thing as knowing too much. Just...don’t worry about it," Jack urged. "OK," Sam answered, "So aah...what are you going to get Cassandra for her birthday?" she asked, changing to a safer subject. Jack accepted the change gratefully. "I have no idea. What do you get for a 15 year old girl?" he asked, his tone clear he was facing the common dilemma of what to get for someone who was both childish and adult, yet neither. "I don’t know. A cartridge for her system?" Sam suggested. "Nah. You seen some of those games? Real combat is less bloody."
"OK...a CD?" Jack shook his head. "As far as I’m concerned there’s been nothing worth listening to since 1975."
"Clothes, maybe a sweater?"
"Carter, I couldn’t even buy Sara anything she’d wear. I’m not going to try to find something a teenager would like," Jack dismissed. "OK. I’ll agree with you there. I wouldn’t be caught dead in some of the get-ups I’ve seen. How about jewelry?" she suggested. "Jewelry?" he asked, his tone suggesting visions of gold, diamonds and big price tags were running through his head. "Nothing fancy," she reassured him. "Janet’s going to let her get her ears pierced for her birthday. Look in the glove box. My gift’s in there," she directed him. "Your glove box?" he asked as he opened the small compartment and drew out a small yellow bag. "Must get pretty crowded around Christmas time." He pulled out one of two small boxes and opened it. "I picked it up on my way to work last week," she explained, "I haven’t been home since."
"Isn’t this a little...grown-up?" he asked, holding up a pair of silver hoops about the size of a half dollar with a dolphin at the bottom of the hoop perched to look like the animal was jumping through. Sam glanced at his hand and chuckled. "I should hope so. Those are mine. Hers are in the other box."
"Oh. I’m surprised. You don’t wear jewelry," he said as he put the earrings back in their box and returned it to its sack. "Well not at work," she responded as he took out the second box and opened it. "But these," she continued as she pulled her dog tags over her head and dropped them into the empty cup holder in the console, "Just aren’t the height of fashion. It’s nice to have other stuff. Anyway, I like dolphins," she finished with a small shrug, turning off her wipers now that the spring shower was over. "Hey, these are nice," he said, holding up a pair of amber earrings, each smaller than a dime. "Thanks. I think she’ll like them. They have a pendant that matches. Maybe you could get her that?" Sam suggested as she pulled into Jack’s driveway. "Sounds like a good idea," he said as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached back to get his bag. He pulled it to the front seat, causing a manila envelope to fall out of an outside pocket. "Oh crap," he exclaimed as he realized what the envelope was. "What?"
"Oh I was supposed to get this to Sara two days ago. She’s meeting with the accountant first thing in the morning and she needs this."
"Look, unless she’s moved, her place is right on my way home," Sam offered as she picked up the jewelry sack and stuffed it into the inside pocket of her leather jacket. She needed to take them inside and wrap her gift. "No. I don’t want to put you out. I’ll just call her and have her come over and get it."
"It’s no problem. I’m so keyed up I thought I’d go drive through Garden of the Gods and unwind a bit anyway. I think I’m still on un-daylight savings time or maybe it’s gate-lag," she said with a wry grin. "You’re sure?"
"If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have offered," she repeated. "Anyway, her house is literally right on my way home." Jack handed her the envelope. "Sweet. Thanks. I owe ya one," Jack said as he opened the car door. "How about I’ll buy you breakfast in the morning," he offered as he got out of the car, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "A real breakfast...not fast-food or donuts."
"Real food, silverware and all. 0900?" he suggested, remembering they weren’t due back at the base until 1100. "Deal. See you in the morning."
"See ya," Jack said as he slammed the door shut and stepped back. He heard the soft click of Sam hitting the power locks then watched her pull out and drive off. He dug his keys out of his coat pocket and walked up to the front door. One cold beer and hot bath coming right up he promised himself as he entered his house and locked the door behind him.
~~~~~
‘A smoked turkey sandwich,’ Sam thought. That’s what she’d grab on the way home for dinner. The 24 hour deli on 23rd street made a killer sandwich. And there was that half gallon of espresso and cream ice cream in the freezer. It should still be good. She pulled her car to the curb in front of Sara’s house and picked the envelope out of the passenger seat where Jack had left it. She slipped her keys into her pocket, more out of habit than any fear of having her car stolen and walked up the sidewalk to the blue house. She pushed the doorbell and waited anxiously for someone to answer. Now that the sun was setting, it was getting decidedly chilly, and her jeans, red henley and tennis shoes were no match for the drop in temperature, even with the heavy leather jacket. As she mentally added another hot bath, this time with bubbles, to her ‘to do’ list for the evening, she saw a car pull into the drive and park. A slender blond woman got out, dressed much like Sam with jeans, tennis shoes and a soft looking denim shirt, a quizzical look on her face as she registered a stranger on her porch. "Can I help you?" Sara asked, as she pulled a bag of groceries into her arms and struggled to balance it with her purse. "Hi. You may not remember me. I’m Major Sam Carter, I work with Colonel O’Neill," Sam said as she stepped to the edge of the porch. Sara frowned as she walked closer. "I think we only met once...about two years ago...at the hospital," Sam prodded, beginning to think she should have just dropped the envelope into the mail box and left. "Oh," Sara exclaimed as memory returned, "Right. I didn’t recognize you out of fatigues," she said as she climbed the steps, trying to keep the grocery bag upright while digging for her keys. "Here, let me help," Sam offered as she held out her arms to hold the bag. "Thanks," Sara accepted as she gave Sam the paper bag and retrieved her key ring. "So...and don’t take this the wrong way, but what brings you over here. Nothing’s wrong with Jack is it?" she asked, anxiety creeping into her voice. "Oh no. He’s fine," Sam reassured the woman. "He just had some car trouble. I had to give him a ride home, then offered to drop this off. He said you needed it in the morning," Sam said, indicating the envelope in her right hand. Sara opened the front door and looked at the envelope. "Well, it’s about time. He promised to have that to me Friday," Sara said as she reached for the bag. "It was nice of you to do his running for him. Please come in," Sara offered as she walked into the entry way. "I just live a few blocks away, so it was right on my way home," Sam explained as she walked around the living room. "Do you have a couple minutes?" Sara asked. "I have a few questions."
"Aah, yeah. I guess I do," Sam answered uncertainly. What on Earth could her CO’s ex-wife want to know from her? "Please, make yourself at home," Sara called from the kitchen. "I just need to put the ice cream in the freezer. Would you like something to drink?" she offered. "Sure. Whatever you’ve got," Sam said as she sat on the couch. Sara walked out, carrying two glasses of iced tea. "Plain OK? Or do you take sugar?" Sam shook her head. "Plain is fine." Sara sat down in an armchair. "Look, major..."
"Please Sam." Sara smiled. "OK, Sam. I was wondering what has been going on with Jack. He drops off the face of the earth for weeks on end. Then when he does come back, he just hangs around his place. An old friend of mine told me he’d retired again, but when I tried to talk to Jack about it, he almost threw me out. And he obviously hasn’t retired. I know most of what you guys do is classified, and I’m not asking you to violate that... but can you give me an idea what’s wrong with him?" Sara requested urgently. Sam looked uncomfortable. Noticing her hesitation, Sara reassured her. "I don’t need details. I’m used to that. I just need to know he’s OK," she pleaded. Sam sighed as she struggled to put the events of the last few months into a version that wouldn’t violate national security. "Well, umm...about four months ago we were on a mission and...he got left behind....marooned." Sara blanched, "Not like Iraq," Sara asked, horrified. Please God, not that again. She didn’t think Jack could survive another experience like his time in the Iraqi prison. "No...no. He wasn’t in any real danger. He wasn’t captured or anything. Just...stuck." (Right...stuck, trapped hundreds of light-years away on another planet with the gate and the DHD buried under feet of solid Naquadah.) "And?"
"And it took us almost three months to get him home," Sam said. (Course we had to re-invent technology we’d only heard of from an alien race...no big deal.) "Why so long?"
"There were a lot of...complications," (Though if I ever have to build a particle accelerator again, it might just take me a week or so.) she said. "Then when he got back...he had to do something he really didn’t want to."
"What something?" Sara insisted. Sam sighed. "You know he did a lot of...secret things before?" (Parachuting into foreign countries, blowing stuff up...and probably tons more they’d never know about.) Sara nodded sadly. "Yeah, he’d disappear for months on end and never could tell me where he’d been. I thought he stopped that."
"He has...he just had to do this one thing. It had some...unexpected fall out. He found out a couple friends...weren’t really friends. It was tough."(OK, so half of it was tough. I think the colonel enjoyed ruining Maybourne’s little game...he just hated the Makepeace part. It’s hard to send a drinking buddy, a guy who’s saved your life a time or two to prison...or wherever they are now.) "And now?" San shrugged, "Now things are back to normal," she said, fighting back a grin at the thought of what passed for normal at the SGC. Alien invasions, camping on different planets, intergalactic politics...yep all in a day’s work. Sara sighed. "That’s good," she said as Sam stood up, planning to make her escape. The last thing she’d expected was to get the third degree from her boss’ ex-wife. "I’m sorry I sorta kidnapped you. I just couldn’t think of anyone else to ask that could give me at least a version close to the truth. And getting the truth out of Jack is like getting blood out of a turnip."
"That’s OK," Sam said. "I understand. It can be frustrating to be kept in the dark." (That’s an understatement. I understand the need for secrecy, and that, if Makepeace had suspected I knew more than I knew I could have been in danger...but did he REALLY have to lie to us?) Sara shrugged into her jacket. "I’ll walk you out. I need to drop this mail off at my neighbors. It got delivered here by mistake," Sara said as she held the door open. Neither woman noticed the dark shapes crouched behind the bushes flanking the sidewalk. Sam heard Sara cry out and saw the woman fall to the ground. Sam rushed forward to help her but stopped short as she felt a tiny, sharp sting in her thigh. She looked down to see a red-tufted dart sticking out of her jeans clad leg. She pulled it out and stared in amazement at the tiny missile before collapsing in a motionless heap. "Damn it! You idiot. You weren’t supposed to tranq both of them," a voice declared angrily. "Do you know which is our target? All I was told was a blond woman living at this address. It could be either of them," the second man answered logically. "If you had just waited, we could have found out for sure."
"If I had waited, both could have gotten away."
"Now what do we do?" The first man shrugged. "We take them both. As soon as we find out which is our target, we kill the other. She’s expendable," he said carelessly as he slung Sam over his shoulder. The second man silently agreed with his partner. Their boss would surely prefer two hostages to the wrong one. He picked up Sara and laid her limp form beside Sam’s in the back of the waiting van. He picked up a package, roughly the size of a large florist’s box, the type roses might come in and carefully carried it into Sara’s house, laying it on the coffee table. He quietly pulled the front door shut and jumped into the already running van. The vehicle sped discretely away leaving no sign in the quiet residential neighborhood that a crime had just taken place.
~~~~~
Jack folded the paper closed and checked his watch one more time. 0915. Sam was late. She wasn’t ever late. At least not without calling to explain. He picked up the cordless phone on the arm of his deck chair and dialed her number. Her machine picked up. She must be on her way. He hung up without leaving a message. ‘Should have time to finish the sports section,’ he thought as he propped his feet up on the deck railing and reopened the paper. He wasn’t going to let her live this one down any time soon. Twenty minutes later as he found himself reading the classifieds, he was teetering between genuine concern and total irritation. Jack tossed the paper aside and rang Sam’s number one more time. Still getting her machine he hung up and rang Daniel. Quickly explaining his concerns he convinced his friend to come over and help him track Sam down. As Jack once again waited for a ride he found himself sincerely wishing both his teammates would arrive and spend the rest of the day ragging him about being too paranoid. As if there was such a thing.
~~~~~
Daniel and Jack climbed the stairs to Sam’s third floor apartment. Daniel reached out and rang her doorbell. Jack frowned at his friend. "Daniel, I doubt she’s in there. I didn’t see her car," he said. Daniel shrugged. "True. But if she does happen to be here and we just barge in on her, she’ll kill us. She does have a gun," he reminded Jack. "Good point," Jack agreed as he pounded on the door. The two men waited another impatient minute, then Jack pulled the spare key out of his pocket and slowly opened the door. He walked cautiously in, then relaxed as the opening door pushed a small pile of mail around on the floor. "Well, this is both good and bad," he said as he bent over to gather the scattered mail. "Why?"
"She obviously hasn’t been here for a couple days. Neither has anyone else."
"Jack, if she hasn’t been here...where is she?" Daniel asked. "I have absolutely no idea," Jack said quietly. "The last time I saw her was when she dropped me off last night..." Jack let his voice trail off. He snapped his fingers and fairly dashed across the room to snatch Sam’s phone off its cradle. "What?" Daniel asked, confused by his friend’s erratic behavior. "She dropped something off at Sara’s for me," Jack replied off-handedly as he impatiently tapped his foot waiting for someone to pick up Sara’s phone. "No answer," he replied as he tossed the phone back in its cradle. "Come on Daniel, let’s check out Sara’s place." Daniel followed Jack outside, pulling Sam’s door shut behind him.
~~~~~
Sam slowly surfaced from oblivion. Why did her bed smell so...dirty. No. She couldn’t be at home...it was far too hard. She was laying on her stomach on the ground. What happened to her sleeping bag? Forget that...where was her tent? No matter how temperate the climate, she always at least used her sleeping bag. Maybe the guys could just drop on the ground and sleep, but she needed the comfort, the security of something between her and the dark. Especially since Simarka, she refused to sleep out of sight of the rest of the guys. Sam flexed her fingers, feeling them scratching the dirt. At least what felt like dirt. This was wrong. Something...was wrong. She lifted her face out of the dust and forced her eyes open, trying to make them focus. OK, she wasn’t her best in the morning, but never like this. She almost felt drugged...wait a minute, the dart. Using the surge of fear induced adrenaline she forced her hands under her body and pushed herself to something approaching a sitting position. She felt for and found the small sore spot on her thigh. It and the light, muzzy headed feeling confirmed her memory of being attacked. She looked around, trying to see where she was. The floor was dirt...that much she already knew. A small amount of light filtered in through a pair of tiny high windows. It almost looked like a cellar. The ceiling was cob-web encrusted support beams and planking. Yep, definitely a cellar. The walls were rough hewn natural stone, maybe sandstone or granite. The mortar holding them in place was a paler color, almost a white though some parts were stained with age. There was a flight of steep wooden stairs leading to a trap door in the ceiling. Dust motes floated lazily in a tiny draft coming from a crack in one of the windows. Maybe she was still in Colorado. She looked at her watch, straining to read the dial in the dim light. Ten hours. She’d been out 10 hours. ‘God I hope it’s only been 10 and not 34.’ Thirty-four hours and she could literally be anywhere in the world. ‘Ten, let’s be positive and go with 10 hours,’ she told herself. Sam forced herself to her feet, almost falling down as she was assailed by an intense wave of dizziness. She hadn’t felt this dizzy since Aris shot her. Maybe she could climb out the window? She lurched her way over to the wall, planning to use it to keep herself upright long enough to check out the window. Her trek was halted by a small moan from behind her. She turned and saw another person lying in the dirt. Sara. Damn, they took her too. Sam turned and made her way to the unconscious woman. She held out a shaky hand and checked her pulse. A little weak, but otherwise OK. Chances are she was hit by the same stuff. Feeling her touch, Sara moaned again and tried to open her eyes. "Wha..." she started as she weakly brought her hand up to her head. "Whoa. Take it easy. What ever they used it packs a kick," Sam said quietly. "They?" Sara asked softly as she fought to sit up. Sam reached out a steadying hand. "Two guys...tranquilizer darts," Sam prodded. "I...there was someone." Sara pulled up the sleeve of her denim jacket and revealed a tiny smear of blood surrounding a small puncture. Sam was sure her leg looked the same. "Yeah. Give it a few minutes. This stuff makes you a little woozy." Sam gave Sara what she hoped was a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "I’m going to see if I can find us a way out of here," she said as she carefully stood up. "Where is here?" Sara asked as Sam made her way to the windows. "Don’t know for sure. I think we were out for about 10 hours. (I hope.)"
"So?"
"So...theoretically we could be almost anywhere but I doubt we’re too far from Colorado Springs."
"What makes you say that?" Sara asked as she got to her feet and joined Sam in slowly walking the perimeter of the cellar. Other than the two high windows, a toilet in the corner and the rickety stairway, the room was completely bare. ‘Oh what I wouldn’t give for some C-4 or my MP-5,’ Sam thought. ‘Heck, let’s not be greedy...I’ll settle for my knife, radio, cell phone.’ "Sam..." Sara broke into Sam’s wishful thinking. "I’m sorry...what?" Sam replied, running her fingers over the wall looking for loose mortar or an oh so convenient hidden door. "What makes you think we’re still in Colorado?" Sara repeated. "Well, I don’t know about you, but I haven’t made many enemies (Not on this planet anyway, she mentally added), and what few I have would probably be satisfied with keying my car not kidnapping me." Sara chuckled. "Mrs. Johnson is annoyed with me because Dad trimmed her roses too close to the hedge but I don’t think she’s this mad. I still don’t get why that means we’re close to home though." Sam hesitated a moment, almost not wanting to put her suspicions into words. Looking into Sara’s concerned face, she made her decision. Chances are this whole thing was her fault. OK, maybe more SG-1’s and the SGC’s fault, but at least part of the blame was hers. Of the two of them, it was far more likely Sam was the target, Sara just an innocent victim. If her life was truly in danger, she at least deserved an explanation... or as much of one she could give. "I have a nagging suspicion this is related to...work somehow," Sam said slowly. "You mean what Jack does?"
"Yeah," Sam paused in her searching and looked Sara in the eyes. "The colonel’s sort of good at..."
"Making enemies," Sara finished, a knowing look on her face. Sam nodded. "Look, if someone comes down here, don’t say anything," she instructed. "Let them give me an idea what’s going on. Course if we’re lucky we can find a way out of here first." Sam paused and looked up to the window. It would be tight but maybe... Her musings were stopped as she heard footsteps and the rattle of a lock. She turned and met Sara’s gaze. "Time to meet the neighbors," Sara quipped as she and Sam turned to see the trap door open.
~~~~~
Daniel pulled up and parked behind Sam’s car. Jack opened the door and was hurrying towards the vehicle before Daniel had the ignition turned off. The young man got out and met Jack who was opening Sam’s car door. "What?" Daniel asked. Jack shook his head. "This isn’t right. The engine’s cold and Sam would never leave this," he said holding up the folders with big red ‘Classified’ stamped on them he’d just retrieved from her back seat, "just lying around unguarded."
"Maybe her and Sara started gossiping and lost track of time," Daniel suggested hopefully, though the look on his face told Jack he know just how unlikely that was. "Uh huh...let’s check inside," Jack suggested as he popped the button to lock Sam’s car and slammed the door shut. "You have a key?" Daniel asked as he followed his friend. Jack shook his head. "Not any more. But I do know where she keeps it," he replied as he paused to survey the small flower garden by the porch. "She plants her keys?"
"No...aah here it is." Jack picked up a small stone. He turned it over in his hand and popped open a tiny lid. He pulled out a key and took the steps two at a time. "Neat trick," Daniel said. Jack unlocked the door, replaced the key and tossed the faux rock at Daniel. "Here’s a rock for your collection," he said then stopped. "Daniel...maybe you better wait out here," Jack suggested. "Why?"
"Just...it might be better." Daniel realized what his friend was trying not to say. Jack didn’t want Daniel to walk into...something bad. "Jack, I can handle..."
"I don’t doubt you Danny. I ...just please stay here," he requested earnestly. Recognizing Jack’s need to protect him Daniel nodded. Though there was no way he was staying outside. He wouldn’t let Jack face whatever might be in that house alone. He’d just let Jack get ahead and follow him in a minute. As Jack slowly pushed the front door open, Daniel looked quickly towards the street, trying to see if there was any danger from the rear. Two flashes of white under the edge of a bush caught his eye. Giving the open door a quick glance, he hurried down the steps for a closer look. He saw two pieces of mail lying on the ground. He picked them up. Both were damp, indicating they’d been lying there for a little while, but the paper wasn’t warped enough to suggest they’d been rained on. His guess was that they’d been lying in the grass overnight. He read the addresses and saw they weren’t Sara’s, rather a neighbor’s. Maybe the post man dropped them. As he turned to go back to Jack, a tiny, shiny glint in the grass caught his eye. He bent down and saw an all too familiar sight. Pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, he carefully picked up the tiny dart by its feathery end. Whether made by the Salish thousands of light-years away or a factory in New Jersey, the basic design for tranquilizer darts hadn’t changed much in a few thousand years. Daniel walked back to the porch and up the steps. He’d left Jack alone too long. Course there were no gun shots or crashing of furniture...it couldn’t be too bad. He slowly opened the front door and tried to walk silently through the entry way. He peeked his head around the door jamb and saw Jack sitting on Sara’s couch, a look Daniel had never seen before on his face. "Jack?" he asked quietly. If he’d picked anything up in the past 3 years it was that it just wasn’t wise to startle people who are trained in hand to hand combat. A person tended to live longer if he announced his presence. "Jack?" he repeated when he heard no answer. His friend didn’t acknowledge him. Daniel walked into the living room and joined him on the couch. Feeling the cushions shift position, Jack turned his head, the look on his face telling Daniel he’d just registered his presence. "They got her," Jack said quietly. "Who?"
"I don’t freaking know!" Jack exclaimed, Daniel’s question pulling him out of his shocked state. "All I know is that some son of a bitch wants me to kill someone or they kill Sara!" Jack jumped off the couch and started pacing the room. Daniel knew this was Jack’s way of dealing with something he couldn’t control. "What?" Daniel asked, shocked, wondering if he was stuck in the middle of some bad movie. "Look Danny," Jack said as he halted by the table and showed Daniel the contents of the box. Daniel leaned forward to see a shiny black rifle and some pieces of paper. Even to his untrained eyes it looked like a blue print. Daniel went to pick up the note lying on top of the gun then stopped. "What?" Jack asked as he saw Daniel hesitate. "It won’t bite."
"No. I’m not...what if there’s fingerprints? Won’t my touching it mess them up?"
"Daniel, whoever’s doing this...I doubt they care very much about fingerprints," Jack said as he picked up the note and handed it to Daniel.
We have her, and if you ever want to see her alive again you will do exactly what you are instructed to do.
Daniel swallowed and turned to Jack. "What are you supposed to do?" he asked, morbidly curious. Jack snorted. "Oh nothing important. I’m just supposed to assassinate someone."
"Aah...what?"
"Yeah. I’m supposed to kill Senator Kinsey when he’s in the Springs Tuesday night."
"Jack, this is crazy. You’re no assassin!" Jack gave his friend a look that told him there was something else about Jack’s classified past that was about to come to light. "Not lately," he said, self-disgust in his voice as he turned away and stared out Sara’s front window. "Jack?" Daniel asked as he got up to stand beside his friend. He met Daniel’s inquisitive gaze and sighed heavily. "Daniel, let’s just say Black Ops isn’t only sneaking into places and blowing stuff up OK?" Jack said, running his hand over his head and massaging the back of his neck. "You’ve killed people?" Daniel asked, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. "Your hands aren’t lily white either," Jack snarled. "Yeah..." Daniel started, then realized they were getting off the topic. He sighed, letting Jack have the last word. Fighting wasn’t going to get Sam back...Sam... "Jack, if they took Sara...where’s Sam?" he asked realizing there were two missing women not just one. Jack met Daniel’s shocked gaze. He was right. Both of them were missing and the note...Jack snatched the note out of Daniel’s hands and frantically re-read it. "Who do they have?" he asked rhetorically. "Sam or Sara?"
"Or both," Daniel said.
~~~~~
As the trap door opened with the faint squeak of old, disused hinges, Sam gently grasped Sara’s arm, pulling her away from the windows. No reason to tip their meager hand. The wooden steps creaked in protest as a pair of booted feet began their descent into the cellar. Sam contemplated rushing the guard...for about 10 seconds. Maybe...maybe if she’d been with the guys or even alone. But she had Sara to consider. She felt she had an obligation to try and get Sara out of this mess in one piece. No...the best thing would be to bide her time. Basically alone and unarmed, she figured their best chance was to just sneak away. "Now, now, now ladies. Let’s not be difficult," the man said as he crouched on the steps so he could survey the whole room. "Step over here where I can keep an eye on you," he instructed them. Neither Sara or Sam moved. In response he sighed and pulled a pistol from a shoulder holster. "Either step over here or I’ll have to get...unpleasant," he said, cocking the pistol to illustrate his point. Sara looked at Sam who shrugged slightly. Options seemed to be in short supply. They both did as they were told. Satisfied, the man continued his trip down the stairs. Sam glanced up and saw a second figure at the top of the stairs. So there were two of them. She turned her attention back to the first man, trying to gain a clue about who he was. Tweedle Dee...stupid name but it was better than Jackass. How about Dumb and Dumber? No make that Dead and Deader. That’s what they’ll be when Teal’c, Jack and even Daniel got done with them. Not just the guys. Ferretti would want his piece. Lou Ferretti liked Sam. By the time he and SG-2 got done with...with what? she asked herself. How can you fantasize about the guys pounding some jerk when they’re nowhere around. You’re a big girl. You’ve killed gods...you can handle a couple of GI Joe wannabe’s. What would the colonel do? Shoot his mouth off. OK, I’ll pass on that part. All it usually does is get him somebody’s fist. After shooting his mouth off he’d look for some weakness. You can do this. Who needs to wait patiently for someone to rescue us...just do it yourself. Sam forced her attention back to her captor. His clothing was vaguely familiar. Standard Black Ops type, black boots, pants and shirt, similar to what she and the rest of SG-1 had worn when they infiltrated Apophis’ and Klorel’s ships. Sam was relieved to see a stocking cap pulled over his head, concealing his identity. If they didn’t want them to see their faces, chances are they weren’t planning to kill them...not outright anyway. Tweedle Dee strode down the remaining steps displaying the cockiness and arrogance cowards have when they have the upper hand. "Well ladies," he drawled as he reached the bottom and started walking towards them. "Seems we got a bit of a problem here."
"You’re holding us against our will...I think WE have the problem," Sam said. "Think I can fix that for you. I only need one of you. Just tell me which of you is Sara O’Neill and I’ll let the other go." Sara met Sam’s shocked gaze. Sam saw her start to open her mouth, presumably to claim her identity. Sam slipped her hand over Sara’s in a silent warning. If it was truly Sara they wanted, Sam was expendable. "Well ladies...you gonna help me out here? Tell me which of you is O’Neill’s ex and I’ll let the other go."
"I may be blond but I’m not stupid," Sara said, "The one of us you don’t need is dead. So unless you want half the Air Force hunting your ass down why don’t you let both of us go." As she spoke she raised her voice, her anger and frustration at the whole situation showing through. Tweedle Dee took a menacing step forward, his beady brown eyes narrowing as he bristled at Sara’s goading. "Returning you alive doesn’t necessarily mean in one piece bitch. Push me and you’ll both be dead," he snarled, pushing his pistol in Sara’s face to make his point, Sam’s presence forgotten. Taking the opportunity, Sam struck out, grasping his gun hand, forcing the weapon to point harmlessly to the ceiling. She slammed her foot into his instep, cursing his heavy boots but still feeling the satisfaction at his howl of pain. She twisted the pistol from his grasp and brought her fists together to strike him on the back of his head, sending him to his knees. "Come on!" she said, turning her attention towards the open door and freedom. Her flight came to an abrupt stop as Tweedle Dee’s hand snaked out, catching Sam’s foot, sending her crashing to the ground, her stolen pistol skittering across the floor. Sara stepped forward to aid her stunned friend as Tweedle Dum came crashing down the stairs and pushed her against the rough stone wall, his pistol pushing cruelly into her ribs, his forearm across her throat. "I don’t give a damn which of these women is O’Neill’s wife...I say we teach ‘em both some manners," he said, pushing Sara harder against the wall, the rough stone surface scraping her back even through the heavy jeans jacket. Hearing their plans, Sam renewed her struggles against Tweedle Dee who lashed out with a jab to the side of her head that left her unconscious in the dirt. "That’s for my foot," Tweedle Dee said coldly. "What the hell is going on here?" Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum looked up to see their boss standing at the foot of the stairs, hands on his hips and a fierce scowl evident even through the ski mask he wore also. "Sir...we..."
"You were to have NO contact with the prisoners. I believe assault counts as contact," he said fiercely. Tweedle Dee quickly gained his feet as Tweedle Dum released Sara, leaving her to slump against the wall, her hand going reflexively to her throat in an effort to ease the offended area. "Both of you upstairs...NOW!" he ordered in a voice that reminded Sara of Jack’s the time or two she’d seen him slip into full ‘colonel mode’. The third man stepped away from the base of the stairs as Dee and Dum moved to obey his order, one of them retrieving the pistol out of the dirt. Sara watched him stand there, his arms crossed over his barrel-like chest as the two goons retreated. Once they were out of sight, she saw him step towards Sam. "Leave her alone," Sara ordered in a voice she was glad didn’t shake...much. "Easy...If I wanted her dead I wouldn’t have chased off the Bobsey twins," he drawled in a soothing, low voice. Sara saw him check Sam’s pulse, then her pupils. "She’s just unconscious," he diagnosed as he stood back up. "I’ll send down some food, water and blankets," he informed her as he stepped back. Sara looked from the man to Sam and back, fear and distrust clear on her face. He took one look at her and sighed. Glancing up at the stairway to insure they were unobserved he took a step towards Sara. She tried to back away only to encounter that cursed wall again. He held up his hands in an effort to show her he wasn’t going to hurt her. "Look," he whispered harshly, "I’m doing what I can to keep you two alive." He glanced nervously upwards as the ceiling creaked with the movement of the other two men. "Tell the major to behave herself. If she pulls another stunt like that I might not be able to keep them back. OK?" he said quietly but harshly. Not knowing what else to do, Sara nodded silently and watched him retreat up the stairs, leaving her and Sam alone in their prison again.
~~~~~
"Now let me get this straight," General Hammond said, "You are supposed to kill Senator Kinsey or Major Carter or your ex-wife or both will be killed?" he asked a troubled Jack O’Neill as he watched the man pace. Hammond was unpleasantly reminded of a tiger in too small of a cage. The cacophony of happy, care-free children playing near by was an unpleasant counter point to the seriousness of the situation. Hammond, Daniel and Jack were meeting in the tiny gazebo in the city park. Even as they spoke, SG-8 was on their way to Broca to call Teal’c back, the situation forcing him to abandon his visit with Drey’ac and Ry’ac. Jack hated to pull him away from his family, Teal’c got to visit them so rarely, but he also knew the Jaffa would never forgive him if he was left out. Since his little foray into Maybourne’s never-never land, Jack found himself growing increasingly distrustful of people on the base. Someone had been feeding Harry mission reports and duty rosters. A someone Hammond had yet to ferret out. Putting two and two together, Jack figured Maybourne had to be involved with Sam and Sara’s disappearance. Therefore the need for all the cloak and dagger stuff. Jack knew if Harry knew he’d gone to Hammond...well they were as good as dead. "That’s about the size of it," Jack said with a heavy sigh, "You know sir, I’m not quite ready to become a charter member of the Senator Kinsey fan club, but I sorta draw the line at murder," Jack said quietly. "Are we sure they even have Major Carter as their prisoner?" Hammond asked, "The note was very vague."
"She’s AWOL sir. Have you ever known Carter to just disappear?" Jack asked, not wanting to think of the other reason she could be missing. He figured she was either a prisoner or dead. He much preferred the former. "Her car was left in front of Sara’s house, unlocked. Maybe whoever took them didn’t know who to take," Daniel suggested. "What do you mean?"
"Well face it Jack, Sam and Sara do look a little alike," Daniel said with a shrug. "General, can you find out where Maybourne is?" Jack requested. "Do you think he’s behind this?" Hammond asked. "Frankly sir I have no idea," Jack sighed, "But something this cowardly is right up Harry’s alley."
~~~~~
Sara gingerly leaned her bruised back against the wall and waited for her companion to wake up. Surprisingly the third man had indeed kept his word. Several minutes after he left them, the trap door opened again and two blankets, a couple MREs and two bottles of water were set on the top step. Once she heard the clatter of the lock being replaced, she had hurriedly climbed the steps and retrieved the supplies before their captors could change their minds. It was now mid Monday morning and almost 24 hours since her last meal, and despite the fear, her stomach was demanding attention. As she slowly sipped the water, not knowing how long it would have to last her, she wondered just what Jack had gotten himself into this time. A lot more than Sam was telling her, she could tell that from the evasive manner in which the woman had not answered her questions last night. During their marriage she knew he’d kept things from her. Lots of things. When they were in bed, she’d ask him about his scars. And he’d come up with some flippant answer. Usually attack of the killer munchkins or something equally benign and untrue. If she tried to talk with him about his nightmares, he’d clam up, refuse to discuss it and go sleep in the couch. She knew he thought he was protecting her, protecting Charlie, from the harsh realities of the world. In truth, every time he’d spun some sarcastic lie she’d felt a tiny part of her die inside. Didn’t he know her imagination was able to supply her with far worse images than if he’d just told her the truth? Didn’t he realize there were plenty of people willing to supply her with details and gossip? Didn’t he know she just wanted to help him, to heal him? To help banish his demons. Soon his lying, his shutting her out and her pretending it didn’t hurt became such an integral part of their relationship she didn’t think either of them recognized when the time came that she wouldn’t believe him if he said the sky was blue, and he was so convinced her apathy meant she didn’t love him anymore rather than she was just so tired of being hurt, shutting him out in return was the only solution. Soon, Charlie was the only thing binding them. A gulf so large had grown, they couldn’t even join together to mourn their son. In a way she envied Sam Carter. The woman got to share a side of Jack Sara had only seen once or twice over the years. Too bad she couldn’t join the Air Force and see what this Stargate thing was that demanded so much of his time and energy. Sara’s musings ended as she saw Sam beginning to stir. Sara pushed herself forward and put her hand on Sam’s arm. "Hey. How are you feeling?" she asked the woman. Sam’s eyes fluttered, then opened. She met Sara’s gaze. "What?"
"Goon boy punched you," Sara reminded her. She saw Sam close her eyes as she nodded. "Oh yeah. Hate it when that happens," she mumbled, "How long?" she asked. "Almost an hour," Sara said as Sam slowly rolled to her side and pushed herself up. "How’s your head?" Sara asked as Sam gingerly explored the darkening bruise on her cheekbone. "Don’t suppose you have any aspirin on you?" she asked with a wry grin. Sara shook her head. "No. But our host did give us some," Sara said as she held up a small green packet. Sam recognized it as standard issue aspirin from a med-kit. She took the packet with a frown, noting the pills were still in date. This wasn’t something someone picked up from a surplus store. "He also gave us some blankets, water and food. Though I think calling MREs food is a huge compliment," Sara said, motioning to the tiny pile of supplies. Sam hesitated a second, seeing that Sara had already drunk some of the water. "I don’t know if we should trust this stuff," Sam said quietly. Sara shook her head. "I think it’s OK. We seem to have a friend upstairs," she said pointing at the dusty planks. Sam raised her eyebrows. "A friend?" she asked skeptically. "If we had a friend would we still be down here?"
"Look, after that guy knocked you out a third man came down here. He called them off. Stopped them from..." Sara hesitated and swallowed, thinking about what they had avoided. "Anyway, after he chased the first two back upstairs, and warned them to leave us the hell alone, he checked you out and then told me to tell you that you better behave because he might not be able to keep them back next time," Sara reported. "I don’t get how that makes him a friend. Not that I mind what he did," Sam said with a little shake in her voice. "He called you major. He knows which of us is which," Sara whispered harshly, "I think he’s keeping that from them." Sam felt her hopes rise. "So we may have an ally?" she asked. Sara nodded. "OK. That’s a good thing," Sam said. "You know, maybe I’ll take that aspirin after all," she said, shifting to a sitting position. Sara smiled and handed over the packet. She motioned towards the MREs. "Don’t suppose our friend would heat these up for us?" she asked with a small smile on her face. Sam shrugged as she tipped the aspirin into her mouth and washed them down with a sip of water. "Dunno. Wonder if we could get him to order us a pizza?"
"Ice Cream?" Sara asked. "Margarita...a big one," Sam requested. "Make that a double. I really need a drink," Sara said, sincerely. "Nothing like getting kidnapped and held for ransom to work up a thirst," Sam grinned as she tore open one of the MREs. "Ugh," she said with a grimace. "What?" Sam held up the packet. "Cold macaroni and cheese," she said with a look of distaste on her face. Sara opened the other packet. "Mine’s the same," she said. "OK. Once we get out of this we’re going out. Steaks and margaritas," Sam suggested. Sara grinned. "Deal. And I’m going to steal Jack’s credit card. This whole mess has to be his fault. He’s gonna pay."
"Oh he’ll LOVE that," Sam said, knowing full well how the colonel hated paying for anything. "Look. He gives us any guff, I’ll stick him for dessert too," Sara said in a tone that told Sam she was well used to dealing with the man.
~~~~~
"He got clearance," Samuels heard the voice on the phone say. "What? Harry is being held persona non grata. His guards can’t even speak to him, much less visitors," Bert complained peevishly. "The Joint Chiefs can do whatever they want," the voice replied wryly. "I see. Thank you," Bert said as he hung up the phone. He sat there for a second, contemplating his next move. "Kill a hostage."
"You can’t be serious?" Bert asked incredulously. "Let him know you mean business. Due to your men’s ineptness you have an extra. Use the mistake to your advantage. It is the only way to attain our goal."
"Which one do I kill?"
"Doesn’t matter. Either will do." Bert silently agreed, then picked up the phone to make the call.
~~~~~
Jack O’Neill flashed his credentials and made his way down the utilitarian gray hallway. No matter the country, prisons were the same. The clanging of iron doors, men’s desperate voices, the smell of fear. The Federal Penitentiary at Leavenworth may be a lot cleaner and a bit more civil than ones Jack had been in before, but it was still a prison. He sincerely hoped the time wasted in the flight to Leavenworth from Colorado Springs would be worth it. He cursed the hours spent idle. He felt like he was doing nothing. Nothing to help his friend, his ex-wife. Damn it! They were innocent. Well, maybe not innocent...but if Carter was capable of espionage he wouldn’t have had to lie to her a few weeks ago. And Sara. She didn’t even know what the freaking stargate was! Not really anyway. His mind kept torturing him with images of what could be happening to them. He had first hand experience of just how low a human could sink. He nodded to the burley guard and waited for the man to open the heavy metal door. He fought to hide a satisfied grin at the sight of Harry Maybourne sitting at a gray painted table, in shackles, wearing bright orange prison garb, vaguely reminiscent of hospital scrubs. "Nice digs you got here Harry," Jack said as he turned the chair around and straddled it, laying his arms across the back. "Come to gloat about my imprisonment Jack?" Harry asked in a quiet, bitter voice. "Nah, you know me. I hate kicking people when they’re down. Anyway, you do such a good job sabotaging yourself...I really don’t have to do a thing," Jack drawled, enjoying the sight of the pompous man so belittled. Maybe it had all been worth it. Oh for a camera. An 8x10 glossy of Harry in chains to decorate his office wall. "What the hell do you want Jack?" Harry snarled, signaling the end of the game. That was fine with him. The sooner he got his answers the better. "You want me to get straight to the point? Fine. What did you do with Major Carter and Sara O’Neill?" Maybourne frowned at the colonel. "Can’t keep track of your women Jack?" he asked, an oily tone in his voice. O’Neill leapt from the chair, leaned across the table and grabbed Maybourne by his collar. "Don’t screw with me Harry! I am SO not in the mood today. Tell me what the hell you’ve done with them!" Jack demanded, pulling the collar tighter and making Maybourne gasp a bit. "N...nothing," he forced out. The pair stared each other down for a minute, then seeing Harry’s eyes beginning to bulge, Jack reluctantly let him go. Maybourne sank back into his chair. He rubbed his throat and looked at Jack speculatively. ‘Maybe...maybe he could use this,’ Harry thought as Jack pulled the chair back to its position and sat back down, a study of barely contained rage. "Perhaps if you filled me in on the details," he whispered hoarsely. Jack sighed heavily and relented, knowing, no matter how much it galled him, he needed any information Harry might have. "They’ve been kidnapped," he stated coldly, "And I’m betting YOU know something about it," Jack said, pointing his finger in Harry’s face, causing the man to flinch. Harry set his jaw. "Believe it or not, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm Major Carter. She’s far too valuable a resource."
"Resource?" Jack asked. "She’s a human being, not a library book!"
"She is the only person on this planet who has knowledge of the Tok’ra, not to mention her link with Jacob Carter and Selmac. Her ability to use Goa’uld technology is also invaluable. In fact, I’ve tried to make her several very lucrative offers to come work at Nellis but, for some reason, she keeps refusing," Harry said quietly, a note of frustration in his voice. Jack snorted loudly. "Carter wouldn’t work for you if you were the last person on Earth," Jack stated baldly. "That’s pretty much what she said. She was more polite about it though," Harry said wryly. "It’s a bad habit of hers," Jack said. "Been trying to break her of it for years." Harry leaned forward. "Look Jack, believe it or not, I do have some scruples. I don’t involve civilians. It gets too messy, causes too many questions. And I sure as hell couldn’t have done anything from in here. I can’t even watch TV. Whoever snatched your wife and the major...they’re not NID," Harry declared. Jack shook his head. "How can you know what’s going on from in here? It could very well be another NID idiot."
"No," Harry shook his head emphatically. "The Pollyanna that’s running the NID now wouldn’t dare. He’s under too much scrutiny," he said with certainty. "You know Jack, there ARE other people you’ve pissed off over the years. Thought about that?" he asked. "Are you suggesting this is a personal attack against me?"
"I’m just saying that believe it or not, the NID ISN’T behind every conspiracy. Maybe you should see if any of the skeletons in your closet have decided to get even?" Harry suggested with a smirk. Sensing he would get nothing further from the man, Jack got up, turning the chair back around, then walked towards the door. He slammed his fist on the unforgiving surface to attract the attention of the guard. "Oh Jack," Harry said, "if the major is sick and tired of working her ass off and being under appreciated, tell her my offer is still open." Jack turned as the door opened. "What the hell you gonna offer her...adjoining cells?"
"You don’t really think my stay here is permanent, do you? Surely you know me better than that," he said confidently. Jack bit his tongue as the guard walked past him to escort Maybourne back to his cell. "I’ll be seeing you...soon." he heard Harry say as he walked out of the room.
~~~~~
Sam slipped the folded blanket behind her and used it as a cushion between herself and the wall. She looked over to Sara, curled up under her blanket taking a nap. At least she was putting her enforced idleness to good use. That was the worst thing about captivity...boredom. Once they’d finished their nourishing, if barely edible meal, the two women set themselves to fully exploring their prison. The room was just as barren and the walls just as secure as they had been hours before. The windows were big enough for them to squeeze through, but unless they managed to conjure up a cutting torch, the bars outside the window wells were impenetrable. And even if they could get past the lock on the other side of the trap door, there was no way they could get past 3 or hopefully 2 armed guards. Realizing they wouldn’t be going anywhere until their captors chose to let them go, the two women sat down and took inventory of their pockets. They both had their car keys which could be used as weapons if it came down to hand to hand. Though Sara had expressed doubts about her ability. Jack’s self-defense lessons had been years before. Sara had $10.39, a tube of chapstick, a pen and some coupons left over from her shopping trip. Sam also had a tube of chapstick, a fact they both laughed over, the bag with hers and Cassie’s earrings, the change and receipt from that purchase and a pen she’d absent-mindedly stuck in her pocket weeks ago. Sam felt herself tearing up at the sight of the small amber earrings. She hoped she would be able to give them to the girl Saturday. Once they confirmed neither possessed a hidden weapon, they both agreed to rest and wait for either their chance to escape or whatever their fate may be. Sam suggested Sara sleep first. She had protested, but Sam reassured her she wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway. Sam occupied herself trying to figure out who was behind the whole scheme. Harry Maybourne figured top of her mental list. She knew Colonel O’Neill’s infiltration had seriously weakened the man’s power base and that he was locked up...somewhere. She wasn’t naive enough to believe he would stay there. His whole career was built on lies and favors. Eventually he’d surface. Men like Maybourne may be weasels, but they were also survivors. A more immediate puzzle was the identity of their helper upstairs. She’d been around the world a couple of times, but with the exception of a handful of people at the Pentagon and a few labs, she wasn’t extremely well known outside the SGC. This fact limited the possibilities of the man’s identity. ‘And if he truly was a friend, why the hell hadn’t he done more to get us out of this whole mess?’ she asked herself, frustrated with the sense of helplessness she felt. Sam’s head snapped up at the sound of the lock rattling. She reached out and shook Sara awake. She woke with a start and both women got to their feet, Sara stepping clear of the blanket pooled on the floor. The trap door slammed back and a figure descended the steps, his slight limp telling them he was the one they’d dealt with before. They both tensed as the man drew closer. Sam felt her heart sink as she realized his face wasn’t covered. The only reason not to care if they could identify him was if they wouldn’t be around TO identify him. "If you get a chance, run," Sam whispered urgently. Maybe one of them could get away. "What?" Sam turned and met Sara’s shocked gaze. "No matter what. If you can...run," she instructed. "No," Sara said. "Yes," Sam insisted. "Well ladies, seems somebody’s being a bit stubborn. My boss needs one of you to relay a message for me," he said, pulling his pistol from its holster. He took perverse satisfaction in the twin looks of horror and fear before him. Remembering his experiences last time, he maintained his distance as he aimed his weapon alternately between Sara and Sam as if playing a game of eeny-meeny-miney-mo. The sharp report of a gun broke the silence of the room, punctuated by a short, sharp scream and caused a tiny shower of dust to rain from the ceiling like gentle snowflakes to blanket the crumpled body lying on the dirt floor, it’s blood streaming silently into the dirt.
~~~~~
Jack forced himself to walk slowly out the front doors of the penitentiary. Even after all these years, it was all he could do not to run pell-mell for freedom. He paused a second, putting on his shades against the strong afternoon Kansas sunshine and took a deep breath of fresh air. Waste of time. All he’d accomplished was to eliminate a remote possibility. Shaking his head, he made his way to the rental car and a waiting Daniel. "Anything?" the young man asked. "Nothing," Jack replied shortly as he got into the passenger seat. Daniel got behind the wheel and sighed heavily. Jack looked at him. "What?" he asked, seeing the look on Daniel’s face. "Um...Jack...Hammond called..." Jack felt hope rise. "Did they find them?" he asked urgently. "Not exactly," Daniel said. Jack turned in the seat to face him. "What does NOT EXACTLY mean?" he asked, his voice rising. "Hammond got a call from the police...they found a body," Daniel said quietly, tears beginning to fill his eyes. Jack felt like he’d just been punched in the gut. No. This could not be happening. "Who..." he forced out. Daniel shook his head. "They don’t know...umm...they said she’d been beat up pretty badly...There’s an emergency at the base, Hammond can’t get away...he wants you...us...to identify the...body." Jack closed his eyes, telling himself the tears were a result of the bright sun. He swallowed. "Then we better get back," he said quietly, forcing his voice to remain even. No matter who it was, she wasn’t going to lie anonymously in some damned morgue any longer than necessary. And they...he needed to find the survivor. He wouldn’t let both of them die. And then...someone was going to pay, he swore. If it was the last thing he did.
~~~~~
Jack and Daniel stepped out of the plane onto the tarmac. They both paused a second, waiting for their eyes to adjust from the artificial lighting of the jet to the dimmer twilight of Colorado. Jack saw the large form of Teal’c walking towards them. The White Sox ballcap he wore to conceal his golden tattoo an incongruous match to the standard issue fatigues he wore. "O’Neill," he called. Jack raised his hand in acknowledgment as he and Daniel hurried toward the Jaffa. "What are you doing here?" Jack asked when they got close enough to be heard over the roar of distant jets without yelling. "I had an airman bring me. I will accompany you to the morgue." Jack shook his head. "Teal’c, that isn’t necessary."
"Yes it is," He insisted, "Major Carter is a valued companion. If the deceased woman is her, it is my duty to maintain Kree’tah."
"Kree-what?" Jack asked. "Kree’tah. It’s an ancient rite. A vigil of the dead, done to protect them...their souls from evil spirits," Daniel translated quietly as they reached the car. "And if it’s Sara?" Jack asked. "I will do the same for the mate of a friend," Teal’c said as he met Jack’s eyes across the roof of the car. Jack nodded solemnly in acknowledgment then they all got in the car and drove off to an appointment none of them wanted to keep.
~~~~~
"For crying out loud! How long does it take?" Jack asked petulantly as he paced the small white waiting room. God he hated these places. The sterile white walls decorated with generic, mass-produced artwork. The chairs, whether plastic or cloth were universally uncomfortable. You would think a place set aside for waiting would at least have comfortable chairs. Daniel looked up from the two year old issue of People he was thumbing through and met Teal’c’s steady gaze. They both knew Jack would rather not be here. Heck, none of them wanted to be here. Daniel would rather return to Abydos, see if Heru’ur had come back for a visit. Maybe go back and talk to Shy’la, hell he’d go look up Hathor again, if she wasn’t already dead. Just about anything to prevent what was about to happen. During the flight and drive here he’d offered prayers to the deities of every denomination he’d ever studied, and a few he’d only heard of. "Jack, it’s late. Probably only 1 or 2 people working the graveyard shift," he paused, grimacing at his choice of words. "Oh sweet Danny. Carter could be in...there and you’re making bad jokes!" Jack exploded, striding towards the man. Daniel instinctively stood up, the magazine fluttering unnoticed to the green tile floor. "Jack, I didn’t think...I..."
"No Daniel. You never think! If you thought more often we wouldn’t have spent two weeks in a freaking Naquadah mine. It was at your insistence that we hung around in Simarka and nearly got Carter killed. We almost got marooned on Heliopolis ‘cause you had to play with the light show. Oh and need I mention your last girlfriend...The Destroyer of Worlds!" Jack snarled, his face mere inches from Daniel’s. "Don’t forget Hathor. I invited her in you know. And our whole trip to Klorel’s ship...that was my fault too. Let’s not forget Heru’ur and Apophis both wanting to get a hold of us because of Shau’ri’s baby. And I nearly got Teal’c killed when I infected him with Machello’s Goa’uld busters. And heck, wanna throw in world hunger and the war in the middle east while you’re at it? Did I leave anything out?!?" Daniel yelled back, staring Jack down. They stood there for a second, neither moving. Teal’c readied himself to intervene should either man resort to physical action. Jack broke contact first, his eyes closing and his taught body slumping in defeat. He dropped into one of the chairs and hunched over, propping his elbows on his knees and burying his head in his hands. "God Danny...I’m sorry....I didn’t mean..." Daniel sighed and sat next to his friend. "It’s OK Jack," he said, seeing Teal’c relax back into his chair. "No Daniel, it’s not. I shouldn’t take this out on you," Jack said quietly, running his hands over his head. "It’s OK," Daniel repeated, "I understand. I’d be punching the wall right now if I didn’t want to spend the next six weeks in a cast."
"No. You don’t understand. This whole thing...it’s all my fault."
"How’d it get to be your fault?" Daniel asked, confused. "If they were after Sara, if she’s...in there, it’s because of me."
"I still don’t understand."
"Daniel, you heard Makepeace. This whole...conspiracy thing...God only knows how far it stretches. Sara doesn’t even get speeding tickets. The only reason for anyone to try to hurt her is because of me. And Sam...she was just doing me a favor, helping me out. If I hadn’t been so brain-dead I’d have given Sara the papers she needed when I promised her I would and Carter’d be safe," Jack finished, steepling his hands and staring intently at the tiles on the floor. "O’Neill, did you abduct Sara O’Neill or Major Carter?" Teal’c asked. "What the hell kinda question is that?" Jack snapped. "If you did not perpetrate the act, you bear no responsibility for it," Teal’c stated quietly. "Colonel O’Neill," a voice said from the doorway. The three men looked up to see the petite red-headed woman dressed in blue scrubs and a crumpled white lab coat standing in the doorway. "I’m sorry about the wait. We’re ready for you." Jack nodded. "Right." The three men stood up in unison. "Jack...do you want me?"
"O’Neill, I am familiar with the appearance of both women. I can identify her for you." Teal’c offered. "No. Danny, Teal’c. Thank you but I have to...need...to do this," Jack said, forcing his voice to remain steady. The two men watched their friend slowly walk towards the coroner, an exhaustion, a defeat in his stride, a shuffle in his steps as he shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. As Jack disappeared from sight they both reclaimed their seats and continued their vigil.
~~~~~
Jack followed the woman down the corridor towards a pair of shiny stainless steel swinging doors at the end. He heard the rubber soles of his boots make tiny squeaking noises on the institutional tile floor. He wrinkled his nose against the smell of bleach, disinfectant and floor wax and hunched his shoulders, pulling the edges of his jacket closer. Why did they always keep these places so damned cold? "I’m afraid this isn’t going to be pleasant colonel."
"Huh?" Jack asked, forcing himself to pay attention to the woman. She turned and paused just before the steel doors. She reached up and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Who ever killed her...they took their time about it. She didn’t give up without a fight but...it’s not a very pretty sight. You should prepare yourself," she warned him quietly. Jack swallowed and nodded. He’d seen bodies before, he could handle this. At least that’s what he told himself. She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open. Jack took a deep breath and followed her into the room. He tried not to see the shiny tables with their raised edges, the trays of instruments, the purpose of which he didn’t even want to guess about. The bank of doors, small square doors. Like a giant wall of safe-deposit boxes or post office boxes. But there wasn’t mail inside. There were males and females, one in particular. But which one? If he could pick...which one? Sam...his best friend. A person who’d saved his life...too many times to count. Hell saved the whole freaking planet. He’d sat up nights with her after Jolinar, talking to her about it. She’d talked him down from a nightmare or two after his close encounter with Hathor’s snaky little friend. They’d stood, side by side, fighting for their lives...far too often. Hell, he’d even slept with her. OK so they were freezing to death in a glacier struggling to survive, but technically they’d slept together. She was the closest friend he had, short of Daniel. If there wasn’t the gulf created by their differing sexes, she’d probably be closer than Daniel. And Sara. The mother of his child. The woman he’d been married to for 15 years, who he promised to love, honor and protect. The person who’d held him close at night, helping to keep the nightmares at bay. The woman who’d waited for him, stood by him through years of crap. She’d put up with his mood swings, all the secrets. She didn’t deserve this. Neither of them deserved this. The coroner stopped in front of one of the doors. She opened it and pulled out a tray holding a sheet shrouded figure. She reached for the edge of the white sheet and paused, looking up at him. Jack nodded and she drew back the sheet, revealing the woman’s battered face and neck. "Just take your time sir," she said quietly, stepping back a bit to give him some privacy. Jack reached out a trembling hand and gently touched a strand of blood streaked blond hair.
~~~~~
"He returns," Teal’c said quietly. Daniel looked up from his study of the tile floor as Jack walked into the waiting room. He didn’t say a word as he crossed the tiny space and reclaimed his former chair. Daniel watched him lean forward, once again burying his face in hands propped on his knees. "Jack?"
"Daniel."
"Umm...which...who?" he asked hesitantly, dying to know but not wanting to have his fears confirmed. Jack sighed heavily. "It’s not her," he said, his face still buried. Daniel met Teal’c’s puzzled gaze. "Her? I’m not trying to sound stupid and insensitive here but..." Jack straightened up, leaning back in the chair, the heels of his hands pressed against his eyes. "It’s not Sam," he said. "Oh my God Jack..." Daniel said, horrified. "It’s not Sara either," Jack stated. "Then?"
"Whoever she is...it’s not Carter or Sara," Jack said, still seeing the pale face of the woman, the only color the purplish red and mottled green of new and old bruises. Her blond hair, still decorated with tiny barrettes stiff with blood. "This is good news," Teal’c stated, confused. O’Neill’s behavior did not make sense. He should be happy that he did not know the deceased. "I know Teal’c," Jack said, "It’s just...somebody’s daughter, sister, friend is lying in there," he said with a notion towards the room. "Somebody beat her...to death. And all I could feel was gratitude that I didn’t know her. No sorrow, no disgust, no anger. I was happy," Jack said, self-disgust on his haggard face. "Such feelings are not inappropriate O’Neill. I too share your relief that neither Major Carter or Sara O’Neill are dead. And I grieve for the deceased. However, would not a better use of our time be to return to our efforts to find them lest we find ourselves back here, perhaps with less pleasant results?"
"Teal’c’s right Jack," Daniel said. "Look it’s after midnight. Maybe we should head back to the mountain, see if General Hammond has heard anything?" Jack nodded his assent and the three men eagerly left the sterile confines of the morgue for the refreshing cleanliness of the night.
~~~~~
Sam watched in horror as her prior assailant fell to the ground, his lifeless brown eyes staring at the ceiling as his life’s blood slowly seeped into the dirt. She turned her wide eyed gaze towards the masked figure descending the stairs, the smoking pistol held in his gloved hands. Sam shot a glance at the pistol clutched loosely in the corpse’s twitching hand. As if sensing her plan, the man raised his weapon, placing Sam and Sara in his sights. "Don’t," he warned as he finished descending the steps, casually stepping over the man he’d just killed. Keeping his gun trained on the two women he bent over the body and retrieved the dead man’s gun. He stood back up and held the gun out to Sam, butt first. "They’ve got orders to kill you," he said urgently as Sam’s gaze darted from Sara to the body to the proffered gun. "You’ll need this. There’s more on the way," he advised gesturing towards her with the gun, urging her to accept it. Sam slowly reached out and took the weapon, wondering what exactly his game was as her mind tried place his voice. She knew this voice. "Why?" Sara asked, motioning towards the dead man. "Why not?" their savior replied as he reached into his pocket, pulled out a small item and tossed it to Sam. Her reflexes made her catch it before she even realized what she was doing. "The city’s 20 klicks northeast," he said as he stepped back, clearing the way for them to escape. Neither woman moved, unsure if this was part of some elaborate plan. "Move out!" he ordered, "The rest will be here any minute." Sam looked at Sara and realized the other woman was waiting for her to make the first move. Sam nodded and Sara walked towards the steps, trying not to look at the corpse as she walked by. Sam watched Sara ascend, then stop at the top realizing she was alone. She turned back to see Sam still standing there, looking at the man. "Sam?" she asked confused as to why Sam wasn’t right behind her. "What are you waiting for major, an engraved invitation? The door’s open...GO!" he ordered. Listening to her instincts Sam turned to follow Sara. "Oh and major," she heard the man say, "Semper Fi Jolinar." Revelation flooded into Sam’s brain with the speed of a super nova. In a smooth movement, she spun, took aim and fired. The man fell to the ground, his head striking the wall, rendering him unconscious. Ignoring Sara’s startled exclamation, Sam stepped forward and checked the man’s pulse. Satisfied, she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered as she claimed his gun. She stood up and shepherded Sara back up the stairs, towards freedom.
~~~~~
Jack, Daniel and Teal’c stepped out of the elevator at level 28 and walked into slightly organized chaos. They met each other’s puzzled gaze and with a silent agreement, all headed towards the control room. They strode down the gray halls, following that annoying red stripe on the floor. None of them noticed the few distracted glances they received. No communication system the Goa’uld had ever stolen worked as well as the SGC grapevine. Word of Major Carter and Sara O’Neill’s predicament had been common knowledge since about noon. "There is much activity for the lateness of the hour," Teal’c said observing the scurrying personnel. "General Hammond did say there was an emergency...earlier," Daniel said. "Whatever it is...must be big," Jack said as he reached the control room and took the steps two at a time. "General," he said as he took sight of the rotund older man. Tonight...this morning, Hammond looked every one of his 60+ years. "Everything OK?"
"Jack," he said, relief and worry on his haggard face. "We’re fine now. SG-6 & 11 had a close encounter with some Jaffa."
"Is every one all right?" Daniel asked, trying to remember who was on the two teams. "No fatalities," Hammond answered, his voice full of gratitude. "How about you Jack?" he asked his tone changing to one of dread. Jack shook his head. "It wasn’t her...either of them."
"Thank God," George replied, visibly slumping in relief. Daniel saw Graham Simmons and Tech. Davis share a quiet look of relief as they tried not to look like they were eavesdropping. In truth the control room was too small for any type of a private conversation. "What do you plan to do now son?" Hammond asked quietly. Jack leaned against a console, massaging the back of his neck with his left hand. "I don’t know sir. Do what they want me to," he suggested hopelessly. "Jack, you can’t be seriously considering...that," Daniel asked, editing his comment as he remembered they were far from alone. "O’Neill, if you consider that course of action, permit me to commit the act. Since I am not of your world, I would be immune from your laws of retribution," Teal’c offered earnestly. "And I have a refuge off this planet." Genuinely touched by the Jaffa’s act, Jack walked over to him and put his hand on the man’s shoulder. "Teal’c I can’t ask that of you. This is my mess."
"Son, let me make a few calls. Perhaps..." Hammond started to say, desperate to find an alternative to Jack committing murder. "Excuse me sir." The occupants of the room turned to see Airman Petty walking towards them. "Yes airman," Hammond said. "Sir, someone left this at the front gate," she said holding out a manila envelope. Hammond took it, seeing his name printed on the outside. He opened it and pulled out a road map, the kind you would find in any gas station. "General, I don’t want to do it either, but I think we’re out of options," Jack continued. Hammond handed him the map. "I think an option just presented itself," he said. Puzzled, Jack took the piece of paper and looked at it. One area of the map was circled in black ink and the words ‘They’re here’ scrawled beside it. "What?" Daniel asked. Jack handed him the map. "Airman, did anyone see who left this?"
"No sir. It just showed up. We never saw a thing. That’s why I brought it straight down," she said, fervently hoping she’d made the right decision. "I see. Thank you," Hammond said, dismissing the woman. "Do you think this is for real?" Daniel asked. "It could be a trap," Teal’c stated. "Well if we go in knowing it’s a trap then it isn’t much of one," Jack said, his tone telling them he was going regardless of anyone’s opinion. "Check it out," Hammond ordered, "Do you want some help?"
"No offense sir, but I think we’ll handle this ourselves," Jack said. Hammond read the unspoken message that Jack couldn’t think of anyone he’d trust enough to bring along right now. "I understand," Hammond replied. "Check out a radio. Keep me advised," he ordered. Jack nodded as he, Daniel and Teal’c quickly left the room.
~~~~~
Sam dashed up the stairs two at a time. She stopped at the top, surveying the room. "What the hell did you do that for?" Sara demanded angrily. "Come on," Sam urged, spying the kitchen and it’s outside door. "NO!" Sara declared, "I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why you killed him."
"I didn’t kill him," Sam said, "Look, if they think he helped us he’s as good as dead. Wounded he might stand a chance."
"That doesn’t make any sense," Sara said, shaking her head. "We don’t have time for this. He said more were coming. We need to get out of here," Sam said. She shoved one of the pistols into the small of her back then checked the other. She clicked the safety on and handed it to Sara. "Know how to use this?" Sara nodded. "Yeah," she said as she took the weapon, popped and checked the clip and also shoved it into her back. "With Jack as a husband, I got lessons on our honeymoon." Seeing a couple of bottles of water on the counter, Sam picked them up and tossed one to Sara. "Wonder of there’s a phone?" Sara said as she slowly walked into the living room while Sam closed the trap door. She didn’t lock it in case their savior was wrong and no one else was coming. She wasn’t going to lock him in to die. "That would be way too convenient," Sam said as she joined Sara in her search of the living room. Both women paused in their search at the sound of tires crunching on gravel. "Time to go?" Sara asked rhetorically. "Time to go," Sam confirmed as they hurried back to the kitchen and out the back door, careful to close it behind them. They dashed across the small yard and slipped into the surrounding forest, grateful that the gathering darkness would help conceal them. "Hang on a minute," Sam whispered a few minutes later, digging in her pocket. "What?" Sara asked, panting a bit. "Breadcrumbs," Sam said, pulling out the small bag and opening one of the boxes inside. She retrieved one of her new hoops and hung it from a branch. "The colonel knows these are mine. If he shows up he’ll know which way we went," Sam explained, shoving the remaining earring into its box and returning them to her pocket. "We need to get some distance while we still have some light left then find a place to hide for the night," Sam said as she resumed her flight into the woods, Sara hot on her heels.
~~~~~
"Sir, they got away."
"What?" Bert asked as he turned on the light beside his bed. It was nearly midnight. "They killed one of the men, injured another while Mac was picking up the team," his man reported. "They apparently escaped into the woods."
"Find and kill them both," Bert snarled, seeing his well laid plans unraveling before his eyes. "Yes sir," the man answered as he broke the connection. "I told you this would not work."
"Yes it will. O’Neill has no idea they’ve escaped. He’ll still do as he’s told."
"If you believe that you are a greater fool than I thought you to be."
~~~~~
The four men watched the van leave, carrying their fallen comrade and the injured man back to the city. They consulted briefly and split into two pairs. Each man slipped on his bulky night-vision goggles. Immediately the piercing blackness was transformed into a green-hued landscape dotted with the white forms of the animals that made the forest their home. It wouldn’t be long now. Either their quarry was stumbling blindly in the darkness or had hunkered down for the night. Regardless, they would be easy prey.
~~~~~
Jack, Daniel and Teal’c crept through the pre-dawn woods surrounding the cabin, their legs getting wet with dew. Though they’d left Cheyenne mountain almost immediately after receiving the map, it still took them several hours to reach the remote location. The cabin was perched on the top of a large hill, about 15 miles outside of Colorado Springs. Unfortunately, the nature of mountain roads meant the drive was actually closer to 30 miles of narrow, twisting roads. They’d parked the hum vee Jack had checked out of the motor pool about 3 miles down the road and hiked in, hoping to remain unnoticed. If the kidnappers were indeed in the cabin, they would be able to kill both women before they could be liberated. Jack laid on the ground, using the underbrush to hide him. He pulled out his binoculars and studied the structure. It was a medium sized building containing maybe three rooms. Ragged curtains hung limply in the two front windows, preventing Jack from seeing what was inside. There were no power or phone lines that he could see. He looked over at Teal’c, who shook his head, signaling he saw no obvious signs of danger. Jack motioned for Teal’c to make his way to the back. The Jaffa nodded and Jack saw him disappear into the under brush. While giving the man a few minutes to get into position, Jack eased over to Daniel. "Don’t tell me to stay back, because I won’t," Daniel whispered harshly, steel in his voice. "I wasn’t going to," Jack lied. "Just be careful." Daniel nodded then pulled out the pistol he’d checked out from the armory. At Jack’s signal, they moved carefully across the small stretch of grass surrounding the cabin. They slowly entered it and swept the three rooms with the precision and practice of experience. Upon entering the kitchen they both caught sight of the trap door. Jack felt a wave of dread sweep through him as he saw the discarded padlock lying neglected on the floor. He took a deep, fortifying breath and slowly pulled the door open. He leaned over and shined his flashlight around, looking for...anything. Seeing and sensing nothing, Jack slowly walked down the stairs, Daniel on his heels. Once they reached the bottom, Daniel walked around, searching the room. It didn’t take him long. He picked up the discarded MRE wrappers and empty water bottles and carried them back to where Jack was kneeling. "Two blankets and evidence of two meals," Daniel reported hopefully. Jack looked up at him, "Yeah," he replied distractedly. "What Jack?"
"We can keep up the trend. Two pools of blood," Jack said quietly, pointing out the two dark patches in the dirt, still damp. Daniel sat on the step as Jack regained his feet. "We don’t know it’s them."
"Right," Jack muttered, disbelief in his voice. Daniel looked at his feet, not sure what to say. His eyes caught a stain on the wood. "Jack."
"What?"
"Look," Daniel said, pointing at the stain, Jack leaned closer. "So? It’s more blood."
"It’s on the steps. maybe they’re just wounded and got out?"
"Maybe," Jack said, unconvinced. "O’Neill?"
"Down here Teal’c," Jack called. The Jaffa found the trap door and walked down the stairs. "Find anything?"
"Yes. I have found evidence of several people leaving this place and fleeing into the woods."
"Really?" Daniel asked hopefully. "See, maybe they got out," he said to Jack. "Daniel, the amount of blood that’s here...if they did get out they won’t last long. Not without medical attention."
"I believe DanielJackson is correct. Two of the foot prints were smaller in size, suggesting females," Teal’c said. "And I found this hanging from a branch approximately 10 meters into the woods," he reported holding up a small item and handing it to O’Neill. The colonel took the item and studied it. "YES!" he exclaimed as he tossed it into the air, catching it again. "Jack what?" Daniel asked, confused by his friend’s sudden show of enthusiasm. Jack held up the silver earring. Daniel looked at the dolphin decorated hoop. "I don’t get it."
"This is Carter’s. She had it with her the night she was snatched. I’ll bet you a week’s worth of mineral surveys they did get out of here and this is her way of telling us which way they went."
"That would be a logical conclusion. I found the item in a north easterly direction. If Major Carter and Sara O’Neill were indeed fleeing they would head towards the city."
"Any idea how long ago?" Daniel asked, getting to his feet. "Perhaps 6 - 8 hours," Teal’c said, "and they were pursued by at least four individuals."
"Let’s not waste anymore time," Jack said resolutely, tucking the earring into his pocket as the three men climbed out of the basement and left the house, Teal’c leading the way.
~~~~~
"Wait, we have to stop," Sara gasped. Sam turned to her companion, barely able to make out much more then her pale face in the moonlight. "Just a bit more," Sam pleaded, "they won’t be far behind us. There’s some rocks ahead and I think I hear a stream. It’ll give us cover." Sara nodded and struggled to keep up with the major.
"Down here," Sam said, leading Sara toward the creek bed. Sara followed her as she slid down the deep bank. She walked parallel to the water as if searching for something. "What are you looking for?"
"Here," Sam said, stepping towards the bank, finding her way more by touch than by sight. Sara followed her and bit back a scream as she felt something brush her face. "Ssh. It’s just roots. The water’s carved out a bit of a cave. We should be safe here," Sam whispered, sitting down on the ground, grateful it wasn’t wet. They were actually lucky. If it hadn’t have been for the sparse snows last winter the stream would have been much higher with show melt. "We should have grabbed the blankets," Sara whispered, buttoning up her jeans jacket all the way. Now that they weren’t running, their bodies were cooling. "I know," Sam sighed as she saw Sara shove her hands into her pockets. Sam also zipped her jacket up all the way. "If we didn’t want to advertise, we could start a fire," she said fatalistically. Both women huddled together in their make-shift shelter, serenaded by the rushing water. Sam knew the shallow cave was their best chance at shelter but she cursed the sound of the water that could be hiding any noises their pursuers might be making. She held up her left hand, trying to catch a stray beam of moonlight on the dial. 0200. Sam figured dawn was about 4 or 5 hours away. Hearing a loud rustling sound, she reached back and eased the pistol out of her sweaty back. "What?" Sara whispered harshly, also reaching for her gun. "Just heard something," Sam whispered as she strained her eyes trying to make the darkness reveal the source of the noise. She heard Sara gasp and she turned to see what she saw. Sara raised a trembling hand and silently pointed to a shape by the water. Both women watched in amazement as a mountain lion calmly lapped up water less than 20 feet away. "Great," Sara breathed, "if we don’t get shot we’ll end up as cat food."
Despite the chill dampness of the early morning, Sam found herself fighting sleep. As she reached for the bottle and took a tiny sip of water she thought longingly of the stream. The water would be cold, maybe 40 degrees or so, and judging by the rocky bed it coursed through, crystal clear. It was what you couldn’t see she was worried about. Even mountain water was often contaminated with parasites or bacteria that could make them sick. Of course, soon they might have no choice. She guessed they were maybe 5 miles from their former prison. And, judging by the sight of Pikes Peak in the distance, she guessed they had at least 15 more miles to go until they reached civilization. Fifteen miles as the crow flies, which in this extremely rough terrain translated to at least double that. And the 12 ounces of so each of them had left of their water would run out long before that. Even now Sam could feel the tell tale signs of dehydration and lack of food in her body. She was sure Sara was feeling the same. Their last meal had been over 18 hours ago and, unless they got extremely lucky, their next could be days away. Sam knew she didn’t know enough about the local flora to start looking for berries or roots. Besides, foraging was out of the question as long as their hunting party was still out there. Seeing the sky begin to brighten, Sam reached over to Sara who was staring sightlessly across the water. "We should go," she said. Sara nodded and they both unfolded themselves from their shelter. Sam reached into her pocket and pulled out a small round object. She held it in her hands, studying it intently. "What’s that?" Sara asked, arching her back to loosen the kinks. "Compass. Colorado Springs is that way," she said, pointing across the stream. "You didn’t have this before," Sara said as she picked the item out of Sam’s hands. She turned it over and was surprised to see the Marine Corps emblem on the back of it. "The third guy, this is what he gave to me after telling us which way to go."
"If this is his, it narrows down who could be behind this," Sara said. Sam shrugged as she took the compass back. "There are thousands of marines," she said. "Not to mention the fact you can pick up one of these at a pawn shop or army surplus store," she dismissed Sara’s thought. "You’re right. You said the Springs were that way?"
"Yeah," Sam confirmed, "We need to find a way across this stream." They both looked at the wide expanse of roiling water. It looked too deep to wade and running too fast to even think about swimming across. "Let’s go down stream...see if we can find some rocks or some way across."
~~~~~
Sam and Sara followed the stream, trying to stay as close to the bank as possible to hopefully remain unseen. Sam shot occasional glances at the water. As it flowed down the mountain, it was getting wider as more and more brooks joined with it. She was afraid they may have lost their chance to get across hours ago. Sara clutched at Sam’s arm. "Let’s take five," she suggested. Sam agreed and they gratefully sat down, giving their trembling legs a break. Sara twisted the cap of her water bottle off with grimy, scratched hands and drank the last few ounces. "We need water," she stated. "I know," Sam replied, "I just wish I knew if that water was safe," she said, pointing at the rushing stream. "Safer than passing out and getting killed by our friends or ending up dinner for the cat," Sara said wryly. Sam thought for a second, weighing their options, Sara was right. They wouldn’t make it much longer without water. "You’re right," she said as she drained her bottle and started to get to her feet. "No. I’ll go," Sara said as she shrugged off her jacket and rolled up her sleeves. "Fine with me," Sam agreed as she handed the woman her bottle. She watched Sara walk the fifteen feet or so to the water’s edge and kneel down to fill the bottles. Once full, Sara set them beside her on the rocky bank and bent over to splash some of the cool water on her face and neck. Deciding Sara definitely had a good idea, Sam started to get to her feet to join her. Suddenly Sara let out a startled cry as the sharp crack of a gunshot shattered the peaceful stillness of the woods, silencing the birds. Sam rolled to her stomach, pulling out her weapon. As the shot echoed through the hills, she slowly raised her head and saw Sara crumpled on the ground. Sam saw a black clad figure walking slowly out of the trees, his rifle held at the ready. Sam looked around, trying to find the second person she was sure was out there. She didn’t want to reveal her position but she couldn’t let him get any closer to the helpless woman. Sam carefully took aim and fired. He fell to the ground, his finger reflexively squeezing the trigger, a volley of bullets flying through the air. Sam instinctively ducked her head as some of the wild shots struck the trees above her. Fighting to control her frantic breathing, she forced herself to stay still. After about five minutes passed with no sign of pursuit, she slowly got to her feet and started towards Sara, afraid of what she might find. She made it about 10 feet into the open when she froze at the all too familiar sound of a rifle being cocked. "Freeze or you’ll end up like your friend," she heard a quiet voice say, tinged with a bit of a southern drawl. Sam slowly turned towards the voice, squinting her eyes against the afternoon sun. "Put down the gun," he ordered. Sam slowly bent over and laid the pistol on the rocks as he clicked his radio. "This is team 1. Target acquired," he said, then nodded as he listened to the reply. "Yes sir," he answered. Seeing his captive subdued he stepped forward, raised his left hand and dealt Sam a vicious back hand that sent her crashing to the rocky ground. She laid there for a second, fighting to stay conscious until he grabbed her by her hair, pulling her to her feet. "That’s for Michael, bitch," he snarled as he made his way towards the two bodies lying motionless on the ground. Still dazed, Sam stumbled and tripped over the rough ground, earning her a few more cruel yanks with each step. Not able to see the ground, she tripped over a large stone, losing her balance and pulling her captor with her. As she crashed to her side she felt something brush her arm. She instinctively reached out for it and was surprised to feel the stock of her captor’s rifle in her grasp. She tightened her grip on the item and used all her strength to drive it into his ribs. She heard his grunt of pain and felt him releasing her hair and grab for her neck. She drove the rifle back again, this time hearing the satisfying crunch and a strange gurgle from the man. He went limp and fell on her, pushing her back to the ground. She frantically rolled him off her and scrambled to her feet, spinning the rifle around to take aim at her attacker. Breathing hard it took her a few seconds to realize he was dead, his face covered with blood and sightless blue eyes still showing his surprise. Her last punch had landed on the bridge of his nose, sending a piece of bone directly into his brain, killing him instantly. Sam paused, the adrenaline fading enough for her to realize what she’d just done. She looked quizzically at the rifle in her hands, horrified to see blood dripping off the butt of the weapon. Repulsed, she let the machine go, the clatter it made on the rocks seemed as loud as the gunshots had been. She stared at the tiny flecks of blood on her hands. His blood. She felt a hand on her back and spun with a short scream, raising her hands to defend herself. "It’s OK. It’s OK," Sara said, raising one blood covered hand while the other remained pressed to her side. "Sara, oh my God. Are you all right?" Sam asked, concern for her friend allowing her to push the horror aside, for now. "Sorta," she replied weakly as she weaved a bit. Sam stepped forward and helped Sara sit down. "How bad?"
"I think he just winged me," Sara said painfully. "Let me see," Sam said as she gently pushed Sara’s shirt up. Right along her ribs was a furrow, maybe half an inch deep and six inches long. The blood it was oozing trickled down Sara’s side like a tiny crimson waterfall, staining her jeans a dark, reddish-black. "Just a graze," Sam reassured Sara as she helped her sit down. "Let me see if these guys have any medical supplies." Sara nodded as Sam walked back to her victim. She retrieved her pistol and forced herself not to flinch as she impersonally searched his pockets. She found a small package of 4x4’s and a roll of tape in his left thigh pocket, along with a tiny, military issued tube of antibiotic cream. She turned back to Sara, a triumphant grin in her face. "Let’s get you patched up, then we need to get moving," she said as she knelt back at Sara’s side and began to care for the wound. "Why?" Sara gasped, as she flinched when Sam hit a particularly sore spot. "Why what?"
"Why keep going? They’re dead. Why don’t we just wait here for rescue?"
"Because I don’t think these two were alone," Sam said evenly, concentrating on her task. "What makes you say that?" Sara asked as Sam sat back on her heels, using the last 4x4 to wipe the blood off her hands. "He called someone. We need to get away from here," Sam insisted. "You going to be OK?" Sara nodded resolutely. "I’ll be fine." Sam got up and pulled Sara to her feet. The women continued their flight, stopping long enough to wash the blood off their hands and pick up the water bottles.
~~~~~
Teal’c held up his hand, signaling a stop. "What..." Jack started then stopped as he too heard the distant crack of a gun. Teal’c had successfully tracked Sara, Sam and their pursuers for the past several hours. They were following a stream flowing down the mountain. All three men didn’t bother to hide their relief when the Jaffa showed them the shallow area where the two women had presumably spent the night. They clung to every sign that their friends were alive like drowning men clung to life preservers. "Hunters?" Daniel asked as the staccato report of automatic weapons fire rang through the wilderness. "Not using that," Jack said quietly as he looked to Teal’c who was concentrating intensely. "That way," he reported, indicating downstream. "Perhaps two miles." Jack nodded. "Let’s pick up the pace." All three moved a bit faster each wishing they had a bit more armament than their pistols. Unknown to them, two other people also heard the shots.
~~~~~
Sam looked over at Sara. She was breathing more heavily than normal and holding her side tightly. Sam could see signs that the blood was beginning to seep through the bandages. She didn’t think Sara was in danger of bleeding out...but any loss of blood in their already weakened condition wasn’t good. "Let’s sit," Sam suggested, motioning towards a fallen log. Sara sank down gratefully. "Maybe you should go on...I’m just slowing you down," Sara said quietly. "Oh no. The colonel wouldn’t leave me behind," Sam stated resolutely. "Anyway, you owe me dinner remember?"
"OK," Sara said. As Sam looked at her she noticed the other woman was hugging her arms as if she were cold. Sam remembered Sara’s jacket had been left behind when they were attacked. Sam shrugged off her leather jacket and handed it to Sara. "No. You’ll need it," Sara protested. "Are you kidding me? I’m sweating like a pig in this thing," Sam lied. Sara gratefully stuck her arms in the sleeves. "You ready to go on?" Sam asked. Sara nodded and the two women got to their feet and continued their hike.
~~~~~
Jack looked up, following Teal’c’s arm as the Jaffa pointed out a circling figure. "O’Neill, is that not one of your carrion birds?"
"Yeah," Jack replied guessing the bird was circling just a few hundred yards ahead. "We should be cautious in our approach." They spread out a bit, not that the thin line of trees in the riverbed allowed them much room to spread out. Seeing the form on the ground, Teal’c held up his arm and dropped to one knee. Jack and Daniel drew equal with him as he pointed out two forms lying on the rocks. Hearing the trilling of birds, Jack presumed no one else was in the area. They slowly made their way forward to examine the bodies. Jack checked the near corpse as Teal’c moved to check the other. Daniel took a quick look at the man’s ruined face and quickly turned away, searching the area. Teal’c returned to Jack’s side. "He has been shot," he reported, "and I found evidence of an injured person. The blood is fresh, it has not completely dried. And we are not the first people here. I found evidence of at least two more individuals." Jack rolled the man over, not wanting to keep looking at the corpse. "Well, no one shot him. Someone bashed his face in," Jack said as he stood back up, motioning towards the discarded rifle. "Probably with that."
"Perhaps they fought amongst themselves?" Teal’c suggested weakly. "Not if you found signs of a third casualty. Once he went down, this guy didn’t get back up."
"Jack!" Daniel called as he trotted towards them, holding something in his hands. Jack looked up as he drew near. "I found this back in the brush." Jack examined the item and recognized it. "It’s Sara’s," he said quietly. "Well this is good. They were alive just a few hours ago," Daniel said hopefully. Jack and Teal’c exchanged glances. Jack nodded his head toward Teal’c. "There’s signs of a third victim." Daniel’s face fell. "Then I guess we better hurry then," he said. They continued downstream, moving as quickly as caution would allow.
~~~~~
Sam and Sara rounded a bend in the riverbed. Sara paused for a second. "I knew it," she said. "What?"
"I thought I knew where we were. I used to hike around here. There’s a foot bridge about half a mile up. It’ll lead to a ranger station about a mile down the trail."
"You’re sure?" Sara nodded. "Positive."
"Sweet," Sam quipped. Sara shot her a look. "You’ve been hanging around Jack too long." Sam shrugged and grinned. "If you ever tell him I said that..."
"Come on," Sara said, "We could be home in time for dinner."
~~~~~
"Got them," the man said, handing his binoculars to his partner. The second man took a look, finding the two women walking about a mile ahead. He handed the binoculars back and hefted his rifle, finding Sam and Sara in his sights. "No," the first man said, pushing the rifle down. "We could finish this now," he protested. "No," his commander repeated, "They’ve killed three of my men, almost killed Bob. It’s personal." The second man shrugged and clicked the safety on his weapon. He didn’t have to agree, he just had to do what he was told. "We better get going then." They both jogged towards their quarry.
~~~~~
"There it is," Sara said, pointing at the narrow pedestrian bridge, perhaps 3 feet wide, arching gracefully over the river. It was built on a particularly high part of the bank, the water maybe 20 feet below to allow the water to rise with the show melt and rain storms while keeping the bridge high and dry from both water and debris. Immediately down stream, the river bed made a sharp hair pin turn and years of erosion meant the rocky banks were extremely high. They left the cover of the brush and approached the bridge. Sam heard a loud rustle behind her and dragged Sara to the ground as she saw a figure stepping out of the underbrush. She pushed Sara and herself behind the meager cover of a pillar anchoring the bridge and pulled her pistol as bullets ricocheted off the rocks where they had just been. Sam returned fire, squeezing off a couple of shots, mindful that their ammunition was extremely limited. She was satisfied to see the gunman fall to the ground as one of her rounds found its mark. In the ensuing silence, Sam took a second to pop the clip and see how many bullets she had left. Four. Probably not enough. If the man she’d just shot was following military protocol, he wasn’t alone. There had to be another person out there. Making her decision in an instant, she shot a glance at her companion. "When I tell you to...get across the bridge...get us some help."
"No," Sara said, not wanting to abandon her friend. "Yes," Sam insisted, "you know exactly where the station is and where we are. I have no idea. I can hold them off here."
"No."
"Sara, you’re injured. And I stand a better chance to hold them off than you do. It’s my job remember?" Sam stated coldly. Sara sighed. "OK," she said as she acknowledged Sam’s logic. She pulled out her weapon and handed it to Sam. "You’ll need this." Sam accepted it gratefully as she checked the clip. It was almost full. "There’s a pen in the pocket, write down this number." Sara reached into the pocket and pulled out the pen and the flimsy piece of receipt paper. Sam recited a number and watched Sara write it down. "It’s...work. Use my name...your name...the colonel’s...ask for General Hammond. Don’t take no for an answer. Tell them where we are." Sara nodded as she shoved the paper deep into the pocket. "When I start firing...run."
"I’ll be back," Sara promised. Sam turned to her and laid her hand on her arm. "Good luck. I’ll see you soon." She turned and randomly picked an area and squeezed off the last four shots in her pistol. Sara clambered to her feet and took off across the bridge at a limping run. Sam’s fears were confirmed as bullets began to strike the ground near Sam’s hiding place, sending tiny chips of rock into the air. Sam grabbed the second pistol and returned fire, hoping to force the shooter to take cover, allowing Sara to escape. She heard the empty click and realized she’d fired all the rounds in the weapon. She looked behind her and saw Sara disappearing into the trees. Sam sat on the ground, resting her back against the pillar she had been using for cover. All she could do now was wait. She hoped the shooter was the patient type. If she was lucky he’d wait a few minutes before leaving his cover and approaching her. Every second she could buy for Sara increased the woman’s chances of reaching the relative safety of the ranger’s station. She heard the clatter of rocks and glanced around the pillar. He was coming toward her. Evidently he wasn’t the patient type. Sam tightened the grip on her relatively useless pistol. The son of a bitch wasn’t going to get her without a fight.
~~~~~
Daniel plodded along behind Jack and Teal’c. Since they found the bodies a couple miles back, they’d found no other signs. He didn’t know if that was good or bad. Teal’c had admitted he had virtually no tracks to follow, just an occasional drop of blood. Even a few drops were too much for Daniel’s comfort. He’d seen the look on Jack’s face when they realized one of the wounded had to be Sam or Sara. The haunted look he’d worn for the last two days had etched itself deeper into his face. Daniel knew his friend would blame himself, convinced the whole thing was somehow his fault. They had to be alive. Jack couldn’t deal with losing either one of them. Suddenly a series of gunshots again rang over the sound of the rushing water. All three men dropped down, Jack and Teal’c raising their weapons. "Even I know that was close," Daniel said softly, looking to Teal’c for confirmation. "It could not have been more than a mile ahead," Teal’c replied. "I’m sick of playing catch-up," Jack said as he got to his feet and began running forward. Daniel met Teal’c’s gaze. "I’ll be right behind you," Daniel said, knowing he couldn’t keep up. Teal’c nodded and took off after Jack.
~~~~~
Sam heard the man come closer. She desperately looked around. Wouldn’t it be nice for some convenient hiker to some walking down the trail. Heck, the guys could show up any time now. She’d almost welcome a Goa’uld attack, meteor storm...maybe the kitty could come back. She put her left hand on the ground to steady herself and felt sand. Sand. OK. She could use this. She dug her hand in, trying to clutch as many of the tiny grains as she could. A shadow fell across her. She looked up to find herself at the wrong end of a rifle. "Drop it," he ordered. She took it to mean the ammo-less pistol in her right hand. Sam slowly lobbed the pistol a few feet away. "Get up," he said, moving back a bit. Evidently he’d learned it wasn’t a good thing to get too close to her. Sam eased herself to her feet. "Where’s your friend?" Sam shrugged. "She didn’t make it. She’s back there," Sam said, jerking her head upstream, back they way they’d come. "Bull shit. She was here just a minute ago. Where is she?" he repeated harshly, motioning with his rifle, the tone of his voice telling Sam his patience was running out. "She went for a swim. Wanna join her?" Sam understood the colonel’s predilection for sarcastic quips. Given the choice between bravado or terror, she’d go for bravado. He quickly stepped forward and roughly grabbed her arm. "Fine, be a smart ass. One hostage is as good as another," he said as he pulled her toward him, making her stumble a bit. "I’d just as soon shoot you as let you live. It’s up to you," he said as he started back upstream, pulling her behind him. "Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?" Sam heard a familiar voice yell. She looked up and saw Jack and Teal’c approaching. Thank you God, the calvary had arrived. Taking advantage of the man’s second of inattention, Sam grabbed the barrel of his rifle and twisted it, forcing him to let go with a yell of pain as his finger was wrenched in the trigger guard, tearing the skin. However, instead of releasing her, he pulled her toward him, wrapping his left arm around her throat and using her as a shield. "Let her go and I’ll let you live," Jack said coldly in a tone Sam had only heard him use once or twice before. It was the tone of voice he usually reserved for when he spoke of Hathor or Apophis. The colonel was pissed. Good. Her assailant didn’t stand a chance. Sam saw Teal’c slowly step away from Jack, the two of them spreading out, trying to flank him. Her captor saw it too. He stepped back, towards the bridge, pulling Sam behind him. She tried to drag her feet to slow him down. He responded by tightening the grip on her throat, cutting off her air, and reaching to his belt to pull his knife from its sheath. "Fight me and I’ll slit your throat," he whispered softly. Feeling the cold blade pressing against her skin, his warm blood dripping down her neck, she picked up her feet and let him drag her. Jack moved steadily forward, his pistol aimed unwaveringly at them as Sam brought up her right hand and tried to pull the knife away from her throat. As he stepped onto and started across the bridge, Sam knew she couldn’t let him get to the other side. If he got into the woods there, he’d be able to elude them. She looked for and met the colonel’s eyes. She surreptitiously turned her left fist towards him, showing him the sand in her grasp. She saw his tiny nod as he reached the base of the span. She closed her eyes and brought up her left hand and threw the sand in her captor’s face. Startled he stepped back, dropping the knife to claw at his eyes. Sam started to run forward as his left hand grabbed the neck of her shirt. He staggered back, lost his balance and fell off the span, pulling Sam after him into the raging water below. She let out a small scream as she felt herself fall. She hit the water hard, the combination of near freezing water and the force of the fall forcing what air she had left in her lungs out as the current pulled her below the surface.
~~~~~
Daniel arrived just as Jack tossed the radio at Teal’c and dashed up the bridge. "Teal’c, downstream," he ordered as he jumped into the water. Daniel saw Teal’c deftly catch the small device and take off at a run. ‘What’d he miss now?’ he asked himself as he followed Teal’c.
~~~~~
Jack fought to keep his head above water as he searched for Sam. Seeing a flash of red to his left, he tried to swim that way. His numb fingers brushed by something that didn’t feel like debris and he grabbed hold. He pulled the limp form of Sam close to him and looked for a way to get out of the river. He could feel his body starting to shut down as its temperature cooled. Damn the water was cold. What the hell is it with him and Carter and hypothermia anyway? He kicked with legs that felt like dead weight, trying to get closer to the left bank and out of the current. "O’Neill." Jack looked up and saw Teal’c standing in the lee of a huge bolder, his strong arm outstretched. Kicking desperately Jack struggled to rendezvous with Teal’c. He brushed by the boulder, scraping his shoulder and felt the Jaffa’s large hand grab his in a death grip. Teal’c pulled Jack and Sam out of the current and towards the shore. He hauled his two friends onto the bank much like a fisherman would drag a large catch out of the unforgiving water. Jack’s legs collapsed, sending him and Sam to the ground. Immediately Daniel reached for Sam, turning her on her back. Jack gasped for air as he saw Daniel tilt Sam’s head back and breathe into her mouth. Jack saw her chest rise but there was no response. Daniel breathed again and Jack felt his heart sink when Sam still didn’t move. "Come on Carter," Jack urged desperately. Daniel breathed into Sam again and was rewarded by a harsh cough and a rush of water. He immediately rolled her to her side so she could expel the water without breathing it in again. Jack slumped in relief. Coughing had never sounded so good. Jack felt Teal’c drape his jacket on his shoulders as Daniel helped Sam sit up. "You guys took long enough," she gasped, still coughing a bit. Jack shrugged into Teal’c’s jacket as Daniel wrapped Sam in his. "Danny saw some rocks..." Jack quipped. He was rewarded with a weak glare as she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes. "Sam, where’s Sara?" he asked, afraid of her answer. "She went over the bridge. There’s a ranger station down the trail. She’s calling for help."
"Sweet," Jack said, relief in his voice. "Can you walk?" Sam nodded. "Think so." Daniel got to his feet and held out his hands to help Sam up as Teal’c did the same for Jack. Daniel heard Sam gasp and tighten her grip on his hand as she shifted her weight off her right leg and leaned more heavily on him. He looked down and saw that her jeans were torn around her right calf and the already soaked material was dark with blood. "Sam, your leg."
"Yeah, I just noticed that," she said, biting her lip. Jack knelt down and checked the wound. "Looks like you had a close encounter with a rock or something. I think you’re gonna need some stitches," he stated. "Great," Sam said, trying to stop her teeth from chattering. "Ya know, if you wanted to go white water rafting I know this guy who rents rafts." Sam shot him another harsh glare. "Teal’c," Jack said, getting back up and indicating the Jaffa should pick her up. "Colonel, I can make it," Sam protested, wishing her voice wasn’t so shaky. "Carter, we don’t know if your swimming buddy has anymore friends out here. We need to catch up with Sara." Letting her pride take a backseat to reason, Sam nodded. Teal’c picked her up in his arms. "O’Neill, what about the other man?" he asked, referring to the third person who went into the water. "If he doesn’t wash up somewhere, maybe they’ll find him at Hoover," Jack said, "Frankly I could care less." They were about 20 feet upstream when Jack’s radio crackled into life. "Hammond to O’Neill." Sending the rest a quizzical look, Jack helped himself to the radio Teal’c had put in the pocket of the jacket Jack was now wearing. "O’Neill here."
"Colonel, I just got a phone call from Sara. She’s safe at a ranger station." Jack closed his eyes in a second of thankful prayer. "I read you sir. We’ve got Carter," he reported happily, looking at the dripping major who was slowly losing a battle with Morpheus. "Any chance you could scare us up a chopper? Carter needs some medical attention."
"There’s already one on the way for Sara. It has orders to take her to the Air Force Academy Hospital, Dr. Fraiser’s assigned there today. I’ll instruct the pilot to wait for you."
"Thank you sir. General, we’re going to need a little clean-up," Jack said, meaning the three, possibly four bodies they’d seen or knew would show up eventually. "Understood," Hammond replied. "Contact me when you can use the secure frequency in the chopper."
"Yes sir," Jack replied. He turned to Sam who was more asleep than awake. "Sam?"
"Huh?" she said, forcing her eyes open. "How bad was Sara hurt?"
"Oh. A bullet grazed her side. A little bloody but not too bad," she reported. "Good," Jack said as he again started walking back to the bridge. Sam closed her eyes and fought the urge to try to snuggle closer to Teal’c. He radiated an immense amount of body heat. The rational part of her mind told her she should try and remain awake while the rest of her deduced she was just too darned tired to be rational. Teal’c felt Sam relax in his arms as they reached the bridge. He looked down and saw her closed eyes and felt her even breathing. Despite the fact that she was injured and exhausted he was gratified that his team mate trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms.
~~~~~
Bert Samuels answered the summons and walked into the general’s plush office. He knew what was to come. His plan had failed and it was now time to pay the price. He wasn’t worried. The general couldn’t do much to him. Not without making himself vulnerable. Bert knew too many secrets to be expendable. "Bert, have a seat," the general said congenially. Yes he was angry. The more incensed the general was, the nicer he acted. "I assume your plan did not come to fruition," he said as he leaned back in his leather chair. "No. Regrettably O’Neill has outsmarted us yet again." The general slowly shook his distinguished head. "Not ‘us’ Bert. ‘You.’ From the beginning I made it clear I had no part in this scheme of yours," the general said, making his position known. "Word has come down from the President himself. NO ONE at the SGC is to suffer so much as a tax audit. If he even hears rumors of any actions against ANYONE, they will be handled with EXTREME prejudice," the general declared. "Of course sir," Bert agreed amicably. "However, is this not the same president whose term of office ends in mere months?" Bert was rewarded with a slight sly smile from his boss. "The very same."
~~~~~
Jack navigated through the maze of clean white hallways that made up the Air Force Academy Hospital. It was now Tuesday evening and he had heard on the radio Senator Kinsey was just starting his speech at the academy down the road, presumably totally ignorant about how close he’d come to being dead. After dropping Sam and Sara off at the hospital in the capable hands of Dr. Fraiser and under the watchful eyes of Daniel and Teal’c, Jack had jumped into the waiting helicopter and returned to Cheyenne Mountain. He grabbed a too quick shower and exchanged his wet fatigues for clean dry ones. Then he led a handful of men back up the mountain and retrieved the bodies which were now in the SGC morgue. A thorough examination of the corpses revealed absolutely nothing other than how they’d died. Even the labels of their clothing had been removed. They took fingerprints and DNA samples, but both Hammond and Jack knew they’d probably never identify the men. Chances are if any of them had family, they’d never know how the men died, or even that they had died. The three men and the fourth who had yet to be found were merely pawns in some jerk’s game. Expendable pawns to be used and discarded like the plastic silverware one got at a fast food restaurant or those little bars of soap hotels dispense so freely. Jack sat and listened in as Hammond called the President and received the man’s promise that whoever was behind the kidnapping wasn’t a member of the Joint Chiefs or even known of by them. Both George and Jack shared silent looks of disbelief. With as many of the loose ends tied up that they could, Jack received permission from General Hammond to return to the hospital and check on his ex-wife and his friend. They’d received word from Janet that neither woman was severely injured, but Jack still needed to see it for himself. He visited Sara first, armed with some flowers he’d picked up at the gift shop, and was gratified to learn the wound on her side was the extent of her injuries, aside from a few bumps and bruises and a cut on her hand she’d received when she discovered the ranger station wasn’t open and broke a window to gain access. He and Sara talked, and as heard more of their story, he realized just how involved the whole scheme was. He also discovered the lengths both she and Sam had gone to in order to survive. "Jack, look I’m fine," Sara insisted. He shook his head. "Sara, I know you. This is too easy. Where’s the..."
"What? The demand for an explanation. Me pressing you for details, getting frustrated when you lie. You getting annoyed when I keep demanding what you can’t give. We tried that before. I think we got divorced because of it," Sara ranted quietly. "Sara..." he started, then stopped as she put her hand on his arm. "This is all tied to your stargate thing isn’t it?" Jack sighed. "Yeah," he grudgingly admitted, wishing he could tell her all about it. "The same stargate that’s helped turn a suicidal, bitter, hateful, cold-blooded SOB back into something...resembling the man I married 15 years ago?" Not knowing how to respond, Jack just raised his eyebrow at his ex-wife. "I think I can live without details," she said quietly. "Have you talked to Sam?" she asked, changing the subject. Jack shook his head. "I’m going there next."
"You found the bodies?" He nodded. "I know she didn’t want to, but she killed them. The one with...the face...I know what you...she does is violent but...I think it really freaked her out."
"How?" Sara shook her head. "I don’t know...just the look on her face."
"OK. I’ll talk to her. You OK?" Sara nodded and smiled. "I’m fine," she repeated. Jack leaned in and enveloped her in a hug. "I’m glad you’re all right." Sara hugged him back and they sat there for a second until Sara pulled back a bit. Jack gave her an appraising look, then let her go. "You want me to take you home in the morning?" he asked. "That would be good. Dad’s out of town," Sara agreed. "Sweet. I’ll see ya in the morning," he said as he turned to leave the room. "Jack." He stopped and turned back. "What ever you’re doing...keep doing it, banish a few more of your demons, put a few more chinks in your armor." He nodded. "And don’t be such a stranger. I’ve heard rumors that ex’s can occasionally be friends."
~~~~~
Jack walked down the hall to Sam’s room armed this time with a couple sandwiches, chips and sodas he’d gotten from the cafeteria. Flowers may work with Sara, but he couldn’t exactly bring flowers to his 2IC. Now if Danny and Teal’c got the idea...that was different. Besides, unlike most women he’d known, Carter would appreciate food more than flowers. He stopped at the sight of Daniel and Teal’c sitting in chairs outside Sam’s room, Daniel slumped down half-asleep and Teal’c...well Teal’c never slumped but even he looked a bit weary. "O’Neill," he said as Daniel perked up. "Jack," he muttered, pulling his glasses off the top of his head and settling them in place. "Everything OK?" Jack asked, wondering why they weren’t in the room with their friend. "Yeah," Daniel said stretching, "I guess. You get everything taken care of?"
"Yep. How’s Carter?"
"She woke up a little while ago. I think she’s upset about something," Daniel reported, concern on his face. "Major Carter merely requested some privacy. I do not believe that equates with being upset." Seeing the food in Jack’s hands, Daniel caught hold of Teal’c’s arm. "Come on Teal’c, I’m starving. And since Jack didn’t bring enough for all of us, we’ll have to go get our own," he suggested astutely. "Thanks guys," Jack said as Daniel and Teal’c left, arguing slightly about where to go.
~~~~~
Jack pushed the door open and slowly stepped into the dim room. He was grateful to see Sam, like Sara, didn’t have a roommate. Their conversation would go a lot better if they didn’t have to watch what they said. Sam was sleeping, curled up on her left side, one arm tucked under the pillow. It was the same way she slept when they were off world. Course then she usually had her rifle or pistol tucked into her side. He winced at the sight of the painful bruise on her cheekbone as he set the food on the bed side table, tossed the jacket he’d gotten from Sara over a chair and pulled another chair to the side of her bed to wait for her to wake up. He sat there for about half an hour, comparing what he’d learned from Sara to what he’d discovered on his own, trying to piece it all together. Unfortunately, every question he answered, only brought up more questions. He heard Sam sigh and shift in the bed. Perhaps sensing the presence of another person in the room, he saw her eyes flutter open. "Hey," he said, sitting up. "Hey," she answered as she frowned and blinked to make her eyes focus. "How’s Sara?"
"She’s fine. Going home in the morning. How ya feeling?"
"OK," she replied as she sat up, grimacing a bit as she discovered various bruises. Jack handed her the remote and she pushed the button to raise the head of the bed. "Little sore. Won’t be taking any long hikes for a few days." Jack snapped his fingers. "Damn. And I was so looking forward to the next UAV retrieval mission. You really gotta fix those things so they crash near the gate not on the other side of the planet," Jack quipped. "I’ll get right on that one sir," Sam answered wryly. "Hungry?" Jack asked, "I snagged a couple sandwiches downstairs." Sam’s face brightened. "Actually yeah. I don’t know what they served for dinner but I’m sure it was only masquerading as food."
"Sweet," Jack replied, "Turkey or roast beef?"
"Turkey," Sam replied. He handed her the sandwich, bag of chips and a bottle of diet Pepsi. As they ate, he filled her in on SG-6 & 11’s run in with the Jaffa and told her about some funky...thing SG-5 brought back that was sitting in her lab, patiently waiting for her to come dissect it and figure out just what it was. Once they were done eating, he began to gently ask her about the events of the last 48 hours. She relayed to him nearly the exact same story as Sara. Nearly the same. He noticed the left out the part about wounding one man and killing three. "What about the third guy?"
"Third guy?"
"The one in the cellar who helped you two escape," Jack prodded. Sam was good at avoidance, he was better. "There was a third man," Sam admitted. "Colonel, when you found the cabin...did you find any...bodies?" Jack shook his head. "No. Blood but no bodies." Sam looked relieved. "Good."
"Carter, what the hell’s going on? You’re not going all Stockholm on me are you?"
"What?" Sam asked before she realized what he meant. Stockholm Syndrome, when a captive begins to sympathize with his or her captors. "No. It’s just that..."
"That what?"
"Colonel, he knew me...us. He knew which of us was which and he didn’t say anything."
"So he had another motive," Jack dismissed. "I don’t think so sir. He called me Jolinar. No one outside of the SGC would ever call me that," Sam insisted. "What? He’s a freaking Tok’ra?" Jack asked, almost in horror. Sam shook her head. "No," she said certainly, "I...remember what we talked about when I drove you home? The question I asked you. About...them," she reminded, referring to their conversation regarding the traitors. "Yes," Jack answered cautiously. "I think...I think he was one of them," Sam said quietly. Jack took a sip of his soda and killed a few seconds gathering up the debris from their meal and dropping it into the trash can. "Ya know...they’re locked up," he said. Sam shot him a skeptical look. "Carter, I honestly don’t know who was behind all this." Jack sat back down and scratched his head. "I got in to see Maybourne. He says it wasn’t him. And, call me crazy, I think I believe him."
"So you don’t know who instigated all this." Jack shook his head. "Nope. Probably never will." Sam nodded and took another drink of the soda. "Ya know...you did good out there," Jack said quietly. "Yeah," Sam said quietly as she took another sip of her drink and looked away. Jack got up and sat on the edge of the bed. "It was them or you. THEY put you in that situation. THEY didn’t give you a choice."
"I know...I just...I can still hear him..." she trailed off. "There was so much blood..." she said, convulsively rubbing her clean hands. "The one that wasn’t shot?" Jack asked, pretty sure what she was talking about. "Yeah...he...I didn’t mean to...I mean I just wanted to get away from him..." she stopped and took a deep breath. "I remember the first time I killed someone up close like that," Jack said quietly. "It was...hell I don’t remember what the country’s called now. Anyway we were infiltrating...this place. One of the guards...damned kid picked that night to break routine. He saw us...was going to yell...I was the closest...we couldn’t risk him revealing our presence...so...anyway it took me a month or so not to see his face on every kid I met. You never totally forget it, but it does get better." Sam nodded, still looking away. Jack put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. Sam stiffened for a second, then relaxed. "I’m sorry you and Sara had to go through that. And I’m sorry you had to kill those guys. But I’m glad you did," Jack paused a second, flashing back to the memory of the nameless corpse probably still lying unclaimed in the morgue. "If I had to choose between you and Sara or some mercenary...you guys win hands down...I guess," he finished with a shrug. Sam snorted and pulled away. "You GUESS?"
"OK...OK...Hands down," Jack admitted playfully with a quirk of his eyebrows. "Just for that, the next time Daniel starts one of his lectures, you’re on your own," Sam said with a smile, pulling out of Jack’s embrace. "Thank you so much Carter," Jack said, getting off the bed. "Fraiser cutting you loose in the morning?"
"Yeah. Daniel’s going to pick me up. I think my car’s still at Sara’s."
"Oh," Jack snapped his fingers and picked Sam’s jacket up off the chair where he’d left it earlier. He dug in the pocket, pulled out her keys and tossed them to her. "That should make it easier," he said. "I was hoping these would show up. I thought I’d have to get my landlord to let me in." Jack started emptying the pockets. "This got all bloody. I’ll get it cleaned."
"Sir, you don’t have to do that."
"Hey, I want to," Jack paused, pulling the earring box out. He reached into his fatigue pocket and retrieved the hoop she’d left behind. "Found something of yours."
"Cool." Sam grinned. "I was hoping it would show up."
"It was a good idea. Gave us somewhere to start." Jack frowned as he picked up the compass he’d tossed on the bed along with the rest of the contents of Sam’s pockets. "Where’d you get this?" he asked, turning it over in his hands. "Our helper, the third man, he gave it to me." Jack nodded as he looked closer at the small object and saw the initials RFM engraved on it. "Any idea what this means?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Sam shook her head. "No idea," she said. Their gazes met, him seeing the lie in her eyes and her knowing he knew. "Like I told Sara, you could pick one up in almost any pawn shop."
"Ah huh." Jack nodded, giving her the compass back. "I’m taking Sara home in the morning. If I know Danny and Teal’c, they’re gonna want to hang at your place tomorrow. Unless you want me to tell them not to," he offered, letting the subject of the compass drop. "Nah. It’s OK. I was thinking about re-arranging the furniture. I night take advantage of the free labor," Sam said, fighting a yawn. "I’ll let you get some sleep," he said, picking up the jacket. "You gonna be OK?"
"Yeah, I’m OK. You can tell Daniel and Teal’c they can come back in. There’s a perfectly good bed over there going to waste," Sam said, motioning towards the empty bed next to hers. "Daniel should feel right at home." Jack nodded and left the room, telling Daniel and Teal’c it was safe to enter again. ‘First thing in the morning,’ he told himself, ‘I need to tell Hammond Makepeace is still alive.’
~~~~~~
Halfway across the country, Lt. Colonel Bert Samuels slept peacefully, his conscious mind quiet, allowing Zadok free reign. The symbiote cursed his choice of host. This human was an abysmal failure. Not that he’d had much of a choice as the time. Zadok was one two immature Goa’uld larvae who’d been incubating inside the Jaffa killed in Apophis’ first attack on the SGC and had been left behind, given up for dead. His Jaffa dying and Zadok himself severely injured he turned his energies to survival. He had taken Samuels as a host even though he had been far too young and weak to control the man properly. He’d been forced to sit idly by while Samuels succeeded in furthering his career. An act which moved him closer to the country’s base of power, but thousands of miles away from his goal...the Chaap’pai. His only way home. To avoid suspicion and detection, he allowed his host to perceive him only as a conscience, a voice of intuition instead of a controlling agent. He’d initially survived by being discrete. He’d contented himself with hiding and waiting. Waiting for the chance to leave this miserable rock and return home. A home he had only a fragment of a memory of. Now, here he was, two years later, no closer to his goal. Unable to gain access to the main Chaap’pai, which the Tau’ri guarded so fiercely, he had urged Samuels to align himself with Colonel Harry Maybourne, hoping to go through their ‘beta gate’. But now the weasely little man’s arrogance had outstripped his limited abilities and he’d been shut down, mere days before Samuels and Zadok had been due to leave Earth. Now he was trapped...again. Now he was back to being patient, forcing himself to bide his time, waiting for O’Neill and Hammond to make some mistake, do something wrong to allow his host access to Cheyenne Mountain again. ‘Soon,’ he promised himself, ‘Soon he would gain access to the Chaap’pai and go home.’ He’d waited for years...a few more months wouldn’t matter.
~fin~
Story Notes: e-mail- skydiver119@hotmail.com
category-Challenge response #401, 59, 220, Adv. Intrigue, Angst
season- 3 Post Shades of Gray
archive- Heliopolis, s&j, any one else...just ask.
content warning- Language, violence
spoilers- Bigger ones for Shades of Gray, Cold Lazarus, smaller ones for Singularity, 100 Days, Matter of Time, Spirits, Children of the Gods, Touchstone, Tok’ra, Secrets, Fair Game, Thor’s Chariot, Need, Hathor, Into the Fire, Out of Mind, Torment of Tantalus, Past & Present, Prisoners, Serpents Lair, Within the Serpents Grasp, Legacy, In the Line of Duty, Solitudes, Deadman switch
Note - And a big thanks to Lems who lost sleep betaing this for me. You can sleep in. I’ll cover for ya.
category-Challenge response #401, 59, 220, Adv. Intrigue, Angst
season- 3 Post Shades of Gray
archive- Heliopolis, s&j, any one else...just ask.
content warning- Language, violence
spoilers- Bigger ones for Shades of Gray, Cold Lazarus, smaller ones for Singularity, 100 Days, Matter of Time, Spirits, Children of the Gods, Touchstone, Tok’ra, Secrets, Fair Game, Thor’s Chariot, Need, Hathor, Into the Fire, Out of Mind, Torment of Tantalus, Past & Present, Prisoners, Serpents Lair, Within the Serpents Grasp, Legacy, In the Line of Duty, Solitudes, Deadman switch
Note - And a big thanks to Lems who lost sleep betaing this for me. You can sleep in. I’ll cover for ya.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable characters, settings, etc, are the property of their respective owners. Any original characters and plots are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended. ... [ read more ]