In the Name of Science - by Pho
Go to part 01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35
Home ToC


part - 01

Janet Frasier glared at the medical report in her hand. Of all the stupid, stupid things to happen. So absolutely preventable. And now... "Airman Ramirez."

"Yes Ma'am?" The girl's brown eyes watched the doctor with mild concern as the older woman approached.

"Well, Airman, you don't have the flu."

"Th..then why do I feel so bad? I'm tired all the time." There was now nothing short of fear in the young linguist's eyes. Her voice rose in panic. "I don't have c..cancer, do I? Please Dr. Frasier, what's wrong with me?"

"Whoa, Naomi, you don't have cancer." Janet smiled as the girl breathed a sigh of relief.

"Then what?"

Janet took a deep breath. Sometimes she really hated this job. "Naomi, do you have a steady boyfriend?"

"Yes Ma'am. Brad Jacobs. He runs a garage in town."

Janet mentally thanked the powers that be that the young airman was not involved with anyone on her SG-11 team. "Naomi, there's no easy way to say this. You're pregnant."

The young woman's eyes widened in combined shock, fear and what Janet thought might be delight. "W..What?"

"You're pregnant. About eight weeks along."

"Two months? But...but, I don't understand."

Janet sighed in resignation. Why was it that some of the most promising young women were so damned naïve? "When did you stop taking the pill?"

"I haven't. Every morning. Like clockwork."

Janet just looked at her.

"Honest, Doctor, I never miss them. Getting pregnant is not something I want, uh, wanted to do."

"Well, you've done it. As you're aware, gate travel is strictly off limits to pregnant personnel. Therefore you're off SG-11, unless of course you choose to have an abortion."

"A..abortion? You mean kill my baby? Brad's baby? Oh, no Ma'am, I couldn't do that."

"Very well. I'll have to notify Major Armstrong that he'll need a temporary replacement for you. Do you want to tell him why or should I?"

"I..I'll do it Ma'am."

"Fine. You can get dressed now." Janet patted her arm and watched as the young woman slid off the table. "After you dress, come to my office, we'll discuss diet, exercise, that sort of thing."

"Yes, Ma'am." As she reached for her clothes, the young woman never saw the doctor leave.

**********

Daniel leaned back in his chair and groaned. He'd tried everything he could think of, and the translation still eluded him. In an uncharacteristic show of temper, he hurled his pencil across the lab.

"Still can't get it, eh, Daniel?"

The young archaeologist sat bolt upright in his chair, then relaxed, blushing with embarrassment. "Oh, hi Sam. Actually, I'm about out of ideas."

"That doesn't sound like the Daniel Jackson I know, the one with linguistic credentials strewn out behind him like a banner."

"Yeah, well, I'd give up the credentials for a Rosetta stone into this language." He looked closely at his friend. "Sam, are you feeling okay? You're looking kinda pale, and you're awfully sweaty."

She smiled wanly. "I think I'm coming down with something. I've been feeling kind of nauseous for a couple of days now."

Daniel frowned. "Better let Janet check you out."

Samantha Carter shook her head. "No need, yet. Besides, she's overloaded right now, what with SG-8 getting caught in that rock slide. And remember, SG-1's on stand down while the Colonel helps General Hammond with the annual budget reports. So I figure that I've got at least a week to recover from whatever it is before we go off world again."

**********

Colonel Jack O'Neill sat across from General George Hammond, glumly staring at the SGC budget reports. God, he hated these things, but this year Hammond had insisted that Jack be part of the entire budget process, rather than supplying information only on SG-1's upcoming needs. Okay, maybe SG-1 did tend to be a trifle harder on supplies and equipment than the other SG teams, but what did the brass expect? After all, SG-1 was the first contact team. Things were bound to go wrong at least some of the time. Shit! What'd he give to be sparring, Jaffa style, with Teal'c in the gym, watching Carter test her latest enhancements to the UAV, listening to Daniel explain the difference between Linear A and... He paused, okay, maybe not that but still... Good grief, when had he even started to know what Linear A was?

"*Colonel O'Neill!*" The General's icy tones cut through the younger man's thoughts.

Oooops. "Sir?"

"I've called you three times, *Colonel*."

Shit! "Sorry, sir. My mind was elsewhere. It won't happen again."

"*Fine.*" Hammond threw his best 'commander's glare' at O'Neill, who squirmed slightly, in spite of himself. Satisfied that he had the younger man's undivided attention, Hammond continued. "Hand me the expenditure folders from the..."

A knock on the door caused Hammond's brow to furrow deeply, and Jack to breathe a sigh of relief. Hammond's loud "Come!" intensified the headache the Colonel was developing. He'd really have to see Dr. Frasier soon. Speak of the devil. The door opened to admit Janet Frasier. O'Neill smothered a grin as he watched the woman as she realized what she'd interrupted. Her face quickly covered her discomfiture, and he frowned for the first time as he saw what could only be anger in her pretty features. He glanced at Hammond, and knew instantly that the senior officer had also noticed. "Doctor?"

She took a deep breath, as she glanced at the budget reports on Hammond's desk. As head of the medical department, she was responsible for one of the reports plaguing the General, and O'Neill. "I'm sorry to interrupt, General. I know what this time of year is like for you."

"Get on with it, Doctor."

"Yes, sir." She glanced at Jack for a moment. "General, Colonel, we have what I think amounts to a major problem."

Jack's boredom died. Frasier was not usually one to be an alarmist. He noticed that Hammond was also sitting up straighter in his chair. "Exactly what are you talking about, Doctor?"

"I've had a few cases of flu-like symptoms, in the past seventy-two hours, and I've ordered additional tests but..."

"What constitutes a 'few', Doctor?" O'Neill asked quickly.

"Well, sir, only three, but..."

Hammond glared at the woman. "You're trying to tell me that we're starting another round of flu season?"

"No, sir. If you'll let me finish..."

"Go ahead."

Janet glanced helplessly at Jack for a moment. "Sir, there's no easy way to say it. The three cases are all experienced female SG team members, and, sir, they're all pregnant."

Twin "what's" rang out from both Hammond and O'Neill.

The pretty doctor nodded. "Yes, sirs. As you're both aware, all female SG team personnel are required to take birth control pills unless there's a medical reason not to."

Hammond glared angrily. "What you're saying is that three of my female team members have ignored this rule, and are now pregnant?" The anger in his voice made Janet pale slightly. Jack, however, sympathized with the man. It was annual budget time which was bad enough, but now three of his people had ignored orders, gotten pregnant and would have to be replaced on their working teams. There simply weren't enough qualified personnel on staff to replace three team members easily.

Janet shook her head. "No, sir, that's not what I'm saying."

Hammond interrupted. "But you said..."

"Let me finish, please sir. One, I might have said yes. Two, maybe. But three. No, sir. All three swear they've been taking the pill religiously. So I had them bring the pills in." Her face was grim. "I've ordered mandatory pregnancy testing for all female personnel."

Jack felt a cold shiver go up his spine. "Why?"

"Sirs, their pills were fakes, placebos if you will."

"Fakes, how?" Hammond was puzzled. "Wouldn't they have known?"

"No, sir. They were cleverly disguised as the real thing. Sir, every birth control packet in the pharmacy is fake. I don't know how long this has been happening, but it's definitely deliberate. Someone is playing a very dangerous game with the women of the SGC, particularly those who travel through the Stargate."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 02

Hammond's anger had not dissipated, merely moved on to a new target, someone was messing with *his* people. *That* could not, would not be tolerated. "Fakes. How is that possible Doctor?"

"I don't know, sir. It shouldn't *be* possible."

"What exactly are we looking at, Doctor?"

"For the female team members there's the obvious, an unplanned pregnancy. That in itself is enough of a shock. Then there's the decision to carry the fetus to full term, or have an abortion. Either way, major psychological trauma. Then there are all the potential combinations of health problems that can occur during pregnancy..."

"Cut to the chase, Doctor. I have grown daughters. I'm familiar with the basics."

"Yes, sir. What I'm really worried about is the effect of Gate travel on a fetus. You've been through the Gate, General, you're aware of the stress it places on the human body."

"You're talking birth defects." O'Neill's eyes narrowed in anger.

"Yes, sir, then there's all sorts of potential unknown effects just from being off world. Air, water, food that are okay for our consumption may have an adverse impact on a developing fetus."

Hammond looked grave. "The three pregnant women, have they decided what they'll do?"

"One definitely wants the baby, the other two are undecided."

"I see..." The General was interrupted by the klaxons and the announcement. "Incoming traveler."

His hand hit the intercom. "Identification, Airman?"

"SG-6, sir. They're two days early."

"On my way." Hammond moved with a speed that was surprising for a man of his age, and size, O'Neill and Frasier on his heels.

*********

The knock on the door coincided with a tall, thin man bursting into the room. "Sir, it's happened."

The older man sitting behind the desk glanced up from the report he was reading. "Well? It was *supposed* to happen. How many?"

"Three, so far. Frasier's ordering tests on all the women. More are bound to turn up."

"We can only hope. I assume those are their medical records?" He held out his hand for the charts.

"Oh, yes, sir." The younger man passed the folders to his superior.

The three reports were scanned briefly. "Excellent beginning. Are all three on stand down?"

"Yes, sir, *and* they've gone home for a long weekend."

"Now, the sixty-four thousand dollar question, are any of them *ours*?"

"One, so far, sir."

"But not..."

"No, sir.

"Pity. And?"

"Everything is on schedule."

"Make certain it stays that way."

*********

The Stargate energy stream surged down the ramp. No sooner had it settled than a man emerged, carrying a woman in his arms. "MEDIC!" Lieutenant Commander Mark Mallory's voice filled the Stargate chamber. The former Seal went to his knees, gently lowering the Air Force Captain to the floor at the bottom of the ramp. She was clasping her abdomen in obvious discomfort. "Easy, Captain. Help's on the way."

Janet Frasier dropped to her knees beside the woman. "What happened?"

Captain Susan Jeffreys grimaced as she tried to speak. "Hurts. Oh, GOD!" She doubled over in agony.

The rest of SG-6 was now on the ramp. They came to stand behind their commander. Mallory responded for the woman. "Abdominal pains started a few hours ago. She thought it was something she'd eaten. She didn't want to jeopardize our negotiations for mining rights so she played the martyr, until they got so bad she couldn't stand upright. I thought appendicitis, but she said, no, she'd had that. Doctor, what's wrong?"

The orderlies arrived in the gate room as Janet finished her once over of the extremely ill woman. Her orders were crisp, as they gently lifted the young woman to the gurney. "I need an abdominal ultrasound, and a serum pregnancy test on Captain Jeffreys. Stat!" The medical team, and patient disappeared through the double doors.

Mark Mallory ran his hands through his hair. He turned confused gray eyes to face the higher ranking officers. "Did she say pregnancy test? Tell me she didn't. Su..Captain Jeffreys couldn't be pregnant. Could she?"

Hammond's face was grave. "She just might be, son. She just might be."

"Good Lord! How? I mean I know how, but *how*?" Mallory and the rest of his team were obviously shell-shocked. Suddenly realizing he was addressing not one but two senior officers, the Lt. Commander pulled himself to attention. "Sorry, sirs. Request permission for my team to go to the infirmary."

Hammond spoke quietly. "Granted. We'll postpone the mission debriefing until Captain Jeffreys' condition stabilizes." Hammond returned the younger man's salute and left the gate room.

Mallory motioned his men to leave, then looked at Jack. "Colonel, what's going on? Pregnant is just, just..."

Jack put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "It'll be explained later, Commander. Right now, get down to the infirmary. You won't relax until you see she's okay."

Mallory studied the older man solemnly. "Been there, done that, eh Colonel?"

"Too damn often. Now go!"

Jack O'Neill watched the younger man disappear through the doors, then turned to follow the General.

*********

"You want to do a *what*?" A furious Samantha Carter stood, hands on hips, in the center of SGC's infirmary, glaring at the young nurse. "Not no, but hell, no."

"Ma'am, please. I...it isn't voluntary. Dr. Frasier has ordered pregnancy tests for every woman on the base." Julia Mitchell spoke nervously as she delivered her superior's news to the Air Force Major.

Sam forced herself to calm down. The young nurse was only following her orders, besides, Sam told herself, she was just too damned tired to argue. "Fine, get on with it."

A noise from the door to the infirmary drew both pairs of eyes in that direction. "Mitchell, forget the testing. Doctor Frasier needs you in OR."

Julia instantly moved for the door. "What's up?"

"Emergency surgery, heavy internal bleeding. I'm to bring 3 units of B negative blood."

The young woman broke into a run as she left the infirmary.

Sam stared in astonishment at the new arrival, who was moving toward the refrigeration units. "What... how..., I mean, who's in OR?" Astonishment turned to horror as the nurse responded.

"Susan Jeffreys of SG-6."

"SG-6 is off world."

"Not anymore." The woman had the blood and was once again crossing the room.

"But..., but how badly was she injured?"

"Ma'am, I don't have time for twenty questions. Two words, ectopic pregnancy."

Sam's mouth dropped open as the nurse vanished into the hall.



*********

Naomi Ramirez slammed down the stop button on her answering machine. Okay, sure, she was supposed to be on duty all weekend, but damn him. Fishing! She was carrying his child and he'd gone fishing with his friends. How dare he! She'd left him a message that she'd gotten some time off. Surely he'd heard it. She needed him here, now, not tomorrow evening. Damn! Her sudden laughter cut through the stillness of her apartment. God, she was being stupid. He'd be home tomorrow night and she could tell him then. Her thoughts raced as she planned the evening. She'd cook his favorite dinner, and maybe, just maybe pout a little because he hadn't been around. Then when he was thoroughly contrite, she'd hit him with her news. Yes, that was the way to play it. The young airman's thoughts were interrupted by her doorbell. Her mood brightened further. Brad! He'd gotten her message after all. Throwing open the door, her greeting died on her lips as the stranger in the entry took control of first her body, then her mind. Her eyes turned into narrow slits, then closed completely as the injection she'd been given rapidly took hold.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 03

George Hammond sank silently into his office chair and stared at the phone. A brief knock on the door drew his attention. "Come."

Jack O'Neill walked quickly into the room. "General."

"Yes, Colonel, what can I do for you?"

"Sir, have you contacted anyone on the pill switch yet?"

"No. I was sitting here trying to figure out who to call."

Jack grinned wryly. "Should have known that you'd see the problem. Who do you call, when you're not certain who to trust."

Hammond's glare faded as he really looked at the Colonel. "Ah, but I do know who to trust, Colonel."

O'Neill didn't quite understand why, but a cold chill sped up his spine as the General spoke.

**********

SG-6 rose as a unit as Janet Frasier wearily entered what passed for a waiting room in SGC. Mark Mallory's gray eyes were filled with concern as he stared down at the petite doctor. "Doctor Frasier?"

"Ectopic pregnancy, Commander. Captain Jeffreys has been bleeding internally for quite some time. We gave her three units of blood."

"I don't understand. Ectopic pregnancy? What happened?"

Janet sighed as she pulled the surgical cap from her head. "An ectopic pregnancy is one in which the fetus develops outside the uterus. In most cases, like the Captain's, the fetus begins to grow in a fallopian tube. It gets too large..."

"And the tube ruptures." Mark finished the sentence for her. "I, we knew she was in pain, but..."

"She was very lucky, and very foolish." Janet responded severely. "Another hour or so and I would not have been able to save her. She would have bled to death."

"But she'll recover?"

"Yes." She looked at the ragged expressions on the three men. "Gentlemen, I suggest you get some rest." Without waiting for a reply, she left the room, once again heading for Hammond's office.

**********

Three frightened, angry women awakened to find themselves in the dark, figuratively, and in reality. Worse, each thought herself to be the only victim, isolated as they were in separate, soundproof cells. Naomi Ramirez sat hunched on the solitary cot, her arms wrapped around her knees, her head dropped onto them in despair. The sound of the door opening caused her head to shoot up. The light from the hall blinded her as two shadowy figures came to stand in the doorway. She shielded her eyes in a desperate attempt to see something, anything, but to no avail. As the silent figures approached, she slid back against the wall, her heart racing wildly in her chest.

The glass observation deck was occupied by three observers as the struggling young woman was dragged into the all-purpose medical room below. A gloved physician spoke from behind his mask. "Administer the sedative, I can't work with her fighting me like this."

Her frantic "Nooo" died on her lips as a hypodermic found its mark. She watched horrified as the liquid pumped into her system. As the plunger hit its mark, her eyes closed and the man holding her easily lifted her onto the table as she folded.

The intercom crackled to life. "Doctor. This is one of 'ours', make sure the fetus remains undamaged."

"Yes, sir. This one we're taking a baseline only. Standard tests at eight weeks."

The older man in the booth checked his notes. "What are your plans for the other two women, doctor?"

The man below could not contain the excitement in his tone. "This is a marvelous scientific opportunity to study the effects of Gate travel on the human body. One woman is in her ninth week, the other in her fourth. I plan to terminate the nine week fetus for study. The other will be baselined for right now. I don't want to terminate it in case none of the other implantations took."

"Fine, Doctor. Just make sure nothing happens to *our* fetus." The intercom clicked off as the man below nodded his understanding. The older man in the observation booth watched the preparations below for a short moment, then rose to leave the room. Motioning one of his aides to his side, he issued his orders. "After the good doctor is finished with the abortion, terminate the woman, and make sure it looks like an accident."

"Understood, sir. With your permission, I'll make the necessary arrangements now."

The older man nodded his consent then turned to his other aide. "About our problem?"

"The appropriate substitution's been made and delivered to SGC. My information says that the task should be completed before the weekend is over."

"Make certain it happens. I don't like loose ends, and do not forget, the threat from that end is very, very real."

"Yes, sir."

**********

Daniel Jackson had given up, for the time being. The text had lain, unread, for millennia, what would a few more hours hurt? Besides, he was out of antihistamines. Might as well take a break and fill that new prescription Janet had given him. The doctors at the local Air Force hospital had convinced her it would do the trick better than his current prescription. Some sort of wonder drug, she'd said skeptically, but if it worked as promised, he'd be able to cut out some of the pills he was forced to take. He really hoped so. Having to choose between being a slave to allergies or a slave to antihistamines was the pits. Reaching the dispensary, he was surprised to find no one in sight. He rang the bell, and was relieved to see Lt. Harry Chambers pop out of the storeroom. "Hi, Dr. Jackson, what'ya need this time?"

"A refill on antihistamines, Lieutenant."

"Sure thing, same type I suppose." He picked the script up off of the counter. "Whoa, Frasier changed it to that new drug. You're in luck, just got some in with the last supply shipment." Chambers grinned as he looked at Daniel. "And from the way your eyes are starting to water, I'd say you were a little overdue for your pills."

"Did the shipment just come in?"

"No, why?"

"Well, you're not usually in the storeroom."

Chambers laughed. "No, it's a little cramped in there, but I'm checking to make sure I pulled all the birth control pills off the shelves for Dr. Frasier."

"What on earth for?"

"No idea, Dr. Jackson, but Frasier was adamant that no more be dispensed until she gave the word."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 04

"Dr. Frasier, Janet, wait up."

Janet turned in mid-stalk, and slowed enough for Samantha Carter to catch up without actually running.

Sam studied her friend with a concerned eye. "Janet, how's Captain Jeffreys?"

"Lucky." Anger laced the petite doctor's tones. "Very, very lucky. Dammit to hell."

The astonished Major pulled her friend to a standstill, forcing Janet to face her. "*What* did that mean?"

Janet felt her face flush. "I'm sorry, Sam. It's just that we could have lost her so easily, because she wanted the mission to succeed, and because..."

"Because what?"

"Nothing."

"Ah ha. Janet, what exactly was the matter with Susan, and don't tell me it's confidential. I can get pretty much the whole story from any of the nurses, and what they don't tell me I can figure out, so give."

Janet sighed. "Try ruptured ectopic pregnancy, untreated for too long."

"Oh, my God. But Susan's an active member..."

"...of SG-6. Yes, I know, but I've got reason to..."

Sam studied her silent friend for a moment. "This has something to do with the mandatory pregnancy testing, doesn't it?"

A barely heard, "Yes" caused Sam's frown to deepen. "Can you tell me what?"

"Not..., have you been tested yet?

Sam shook her head. "No, Nurse Mitchell got pulled into surgery, but I'm not pregnant."

"Can't be sure."

"You can if you've been, uh, alone... a lot."

Janet smiled. "I *can* relate, but, seeing as how I've ordered mandatory testing, why don't we do yours now?"

"Weren't you headed somewhere?"

"It can wait. Come on, lady, let's go see how lonely you've really been."

"Hey, I said alone, not lonely."

Janet grinned. "I stand corrected."

**************

Mountain roads can be treacherous in good weather, and daylight. Modify the situation to foul weather, and no light, and disaster can be just around the corner. Colonel Robert Makepeace sighed as he rounded a curve, and slowed. The flashing lights of several emergency vehicles were blinding, even in the heavy rain. The Marine peered into the darkness surrounding the vehicles, and strained to see what tragedy had occurred. Silently he berated himself for falling into the age-old trap of rubber-necking, but found himself unable to look away as he noticed the coroner's wagon. Besides, he reasoned, the road was blocked with the tow-truck, and there was no way around it. Glumly, he shifted into park, and settled back to wait.

The winch on the tow-truck stiffened and squealed, as the chain started to move slowly upward. Makepeace watched, mesmerized, as the links reflected the flashing lights. Shaking his head to clear it, he started to look away, then froze as his eyes caught the sticker on the crumpled bumper attached to the J-hook slowly coming into view over the top of the ledge. The innocuous looking emblem spoke volumes to the horrified Colonel. The car was registered to enter the SGC complex at the top of the mountain.

Makepeace climbed out of his car and made his way toward the spot where the tow-truck was lowering the crumpled Escort.

A highway patrolman held up his hand. "I'm sorry, sir, but..."

Makepeace flashed his military id. "I recognize the identification sticker on the back of the car." Nodding at the condition of the little car, he added. "I assume the occupants were killed."

"Occupant, Colonel, DOA. Can't tell you anything else, pending notification of next of kin."

"Military?"

The young patrolman hesitated a moment too long.

"Son, if he's got military id, then *I* am the next of kin."

"She."

"Pardon me?"

"She, sir. The deceased is ... was a young woman."

**********

Jack stared bleary-eyed at the clock over the General's head. The sun would be up soon, and he still hadn't had any sleep. It had taken over six hours to make all the appropriate contacts, and get the final arrangements approved. Well, Jack thought, five hours. He'd argued against the General's decision for the better part of an hour, but, in the end, Hammond had won. His last argument had been short, but definitive. "It takes a snake to catch a snake." Considering the fact that Maybourne was an unscrupulous, unprincipled, immoral asshole, applying the designation 'snake' to him was, Jack thought, rather insulting to the reptiles. Finding himself in reluctant agreement with his superior, the Colonel finally conceded defeat. Hammond hung up the phone and smiled wryly at the commander of SG-1. "Maybourne will be here early this afternoon."

"Sweet."

"I realize that you disagree with my decision, Colonel, but I hope that I won't have to remind you that Maybourne will be on *our* side this time."

"Ya think?"

Hammond's response was interrupted by the phone. "Hammond ... Colonel Makepeace, I'm rea... What! How? ... Damn. No, not at county. Back here. Do whatever you have to. Will you need any help to handle the situation there? ... Good. Thank you. Keep me posted, I'll notify Frasier." Hammond almost threw the handset into the cradle, then looked at O'Neill, and answered the unasked question. "That was Colonel Makepeace. Lt. Allison Miller was killed tonight when her car went off the road, five miles from here."

Jack winced. The young lieutenant had been with SGC less than six months, but had endeared herself to just about everyone, especially her SG-11 diplomatic team. The tall red-head was, Jack corrected himself, had been unusually good-tempered for a red-head. It was a standing joke with SG-11, that Allison could talk her way out of anything. Except death, he thought angrily. Part of Hammond's conversation ran rampant through his thoughts. "You're having her body brought back *here* for the autopsy." It was not a question.

The General nodded tiredly. "She was one of the pregnant women, Colonel."

*********

"*It's* wrong!" The vehement denial cut Janet to the quick, even as it didn't surprise her.

"Sam..."

"No, Janet, no way in hell am I pregnant."

Gulping the doctor asked the only thing she could. "No missing time frames?"

"You mean like binges where you don't know what day it is when you wake up? Janet, please, this is *me*. I do not do shit like that. I'm an Air Force Major, for heaven's sake. The test is wrong."

Janet laid a sympathetic hand on her friend's arm. "Sam, this is the most accurate test around. Ninety-eight percent correct."

"But two percent of the results are wrong?"

"Well, yes."

"Then do the test again."

"Sam..."

"NO! Do it again."

Janet met her friend's blue eyes, normally calm and gentle, now flashing with barely suppressed anger and fear. Nodding, the doctor silently began to draw more blood.

*********

Daniel rubbed his eyes, but it didn't help. He could no longer focus on the cuneiform looking images on the page. His eyes were watering badly now, making the little figures in the ancient text look as if they were dancing. He absently fingered the bottle of capsules in his jacket pocket. What? Oh, yeah. How could he have forgotten? The new wonder drug. Jerking the bottle angrily from his pocket, he glared at the directions. One every twenty-four hours as necessary. With *him*, they were always necessary. Daniel barely suppressed a sneeze, and sighing, opened the bottle. The capsules were larger than he was used to, but he supposed that was why he could take fewer of them. Popping a capsule into his mouth, he washed it down with coffee, grimacing as he found that the coffee was cold. Choking, he managed to get the medication down, then stumbled to the sink to wash the dregs from his mug. Maybe a fresh pot would help him focus. He pulled the glass twelve-cup pot from the pad, rinsed it and let it fill while he changed the filter. After adding the coffee to the filter, he lifted the pot out of the sink, and promptly doubled over, the sudden pain in his stomach almost overwhelming. The glass shattered as the pot hit the floor, followed by the young archaeologist. His last conscious thought was that he knew how to translate the mystery text.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 05

The room was silent, and poorly lit, but the lack of light did not reflect the mood of the occupant. The huge, silent bulk that was Teal'c sat rigidly still, legs crossed underneath him, eyes welded tightly shut. He centered all his inner attention on the flames burning before him, depending on *other* senses than sight to focus on the candles which surrounded him. The glow from the flames flickered even in the stillness of his room, causing his shadow to dance in various shapes and sizes across all reaches of his quarters. While his physical size, strength and stamina were visible reminders of Jaffa endurance training, the mental training was less ... noticeable, at least for those deemed worthy of becoming a 'First Prime' candidate. Teal'c remembered vividly the pride he felt upon being selected for *that* training. Only his pride in the training remained, all vestiges of pride in his service to Apophis were abandoned when he chose to take up the cause of SG-1, and Earth.

The Jaffa's normally reticent countenance concealed a highly intelligent, agile mind. One which tended to be overlooked due to the conceit typical of those born to the use of the English language, and Earth-bound culture. That he was highly valued by his SG-1 teammates, there was no doubt. But he often felt ... underutilized, unless there was a rock to be moved. Disillusionment, accompanied by a modicum of anger, swept through his mind. He concentrated heavily on the unnatural emotions, twirled them around in his mind, tasted their essence, then, as Master Bra'tac had taught him so long ago, he discarded them as the useless burdens they were. A sense of calm filled him, and he sighed in relief. Of late he'd been consumed with feelings of unworthiness. The meditation session had served to free his soul once more.

Rested and refreshed, Teal'c discovered that he was very, very hungry. With his innate sense of time, and a knowledge of his friends, he knew of one other who was probably also in need of sustenance. A brief smile graced his lips as he thought about the youngest member of the SG-1 team. A scholar rather than a warrior, Daniel Jackson was held in high esteem by the Jaffa, who had early on recognized the true courage, and character of the younger man. Teal'c rose swiftly, blew out the candles that sat scattered in a random pattern around his room, and followed his needs into the halls of the SGC.

********

Jack O'Neill arrived in the infirmary, only slightly out of breath. Wordlessly he took in the figure of Samantha Carter, slouched in a chair in Janet Frasier's office. The Colonel was startled to note that the young Major looked somehow smaller, and surprisingly vulnerable. Janet spotted him from across the room, where she was making arrangements to receive the body of Allison Miller. She motioned him toward a corner of the infirmary, far away from her assistants, and her office.

"What's up, Doctor? You said I was needed down here, stat. Where's the crisis?" A knot began to form in his stomach, even as he asked the question.

"*You* and Sam need to talk." Janet was well aware of the rumor mill that had turned the Colonel and the Major into a couple almost before SG-1 was formed.

The small knot was rapidly becoming a full size boulder. "What about?"

"That's for her to tell you."

"I really think that..."

"Colonel, I've got the body of a young lieutenant coming in for an autopsy in less than thirty minutes. I haven't been able to reach Dr. Harris, he's not answering his page, and if he doesn't come in, *I* will be forced to do it. Just trust me on this. Talk to Major Carter."

Jack watched stunned as the doctor started to walk away, then suddenly changed her mind. Fatigue from being too long awake, combined with anxiety to remove all her military inhibitions. "And Colonel, don't upset her, or I'll personally kick your ass into eternity ... sir."

The good doctor left the infirmary as quickly as the Colonel had arrived. The bemused man shook his head to clear his thoughts and, putting on an air of calm that he did not feel, walked into Janet's office. The depression emanating from the Major was almost tangible in its intensity. A voice so low that he almost didn't hear it confirmed his worst fears.

"S..She ran the test three times. They're all same, I'm ... pregnant."

'Oh, God! Not Sam.' Jack moved quickly to her side, and placed a strong hand gently on her shoulder. Sam looked up, and smiled weakly; eyes bright with unshed tears.

Rising she paced nervously within the confines of the office. "*They* say 'third time's the charm'. It sure as hell didn't turn out that way this time."

"Major..."

"I do *not* get it. How the hell could this have happened?"

"Carter..."

"It just doesn't make sense."

"Sam."

The unaccustomed use of her first name caught the young woman's attention. "Sir?"

Jack took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "Sam, I'm really, really sorry. I assume Dr. Frasier explained about the ..."

"Phony birth control pills? Yes, sir, she did."

O'Neill looked for a moment at the floor, reluctant to ask the necessary question. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he raised his head to meet her eyes. "Major, I'm sorry, but I have to ask, is the father a member of SGC?"

"Colonel!"

Misunderstanding her outraged response, O'Neill hastened to add, "Don't worry, Major, I'll do what I can to help if he is one of ours."

Fury filled her eyes, to be replaced by despair. "There is *no* father, sir. Hard as that is to believe, I haven't," she blushed, "haven't been with anyone in quite some time." She paused and looked away. "Not that anyone will believe that, of course."

Warning bells turned into full scale alerts in Jack's head. He studied the young woman before him for a moment, but true to his nature, and her character, he did not discount her assertion. "How far along are you?"

She gulped. "Janet says about three and a half weeks."

"No missing time frames?"

Her eyes turned to ice. "You mean drunken binges?"

"No! I mean missing time frames. Alcohol is not the only memory inhibitor around. Rohypnol can also do the trick."

"Rohypnol?" Carter asked confused.

"Better known as the 'date rape' drug." He went on to answer the unasked question in her eyes. "Knew someone who used it." Her eyebrows raised, and he went on quickly. "Actually, to be completely candid, I, uh, testified against someone who used it. Arrogant little asshole. Stupid too. Took his last victim across state lines and dumped her. Got ten years in Leavenworth."

"I see. ... Colonel, I've been so busy with work, that I've barely had time to go to the grocery story, much less date." She paused, then asked in a calm voice that surprised even her. "Sir, what happens now?"

"We find out what the hell is going on. Major, I want every detail of your life of three to four weeks ago documented to the best of your ability."

Her reply was interrupted by the intercom on Janet Frasier's desk, echoing the larger unit in the infirmary and surrounding labs. "Medical emergency. Code Red. Daniel Jackson's laboratory."

Samantha Carter was only a few steps behind O'Neill as they raced for the door, pausing only to yield the right of way to an exhausted Janet Frasier and her emergency team.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 06

Teal'c maneuvered the maze of hallways at the SGC with ease, appearing to ignore the silent guards who were posted at odd intervals throughout the base. He frowned as he realized he'd gone entirely too far without being asked for identification, and made a mental note to inform Colonel O'Neill. What was concealed at SGC was entirely too important, and potentially dangerous, to allow for such laxness as he was witnessing. Taking the elevator to the lab level, he relaxed when the next guard challenged his identity. Teal'c smiled slightly as the young soldier seriously compared his card to his appearance. "Clear, sir."

Teal'c nodded toward the lights up the hall. "Dr. Jackson is still here?"

"Yes, sir. Since before I started my shift." The guard grinned suddenly. "And nothing's been delivered from the mess hall, either."

The Jaffa's smile widened. "Indeed. I shall endeavor to remedy that situation." Long strides covered the distance to the well-lit lab. Teal'c peered through the window in the door, the smile fading from his features as he failed to see his friend. Puzzled, he looped long fingers around the door handle, and pulled the cold steel toward him, his worried voice carrying back to the young guard. "The lab appears to be empty."

"What? ... He was there when rounds were done, about twenty minutes ago."

Recognizing the younger man's dilemma - to remain at his post, or to check on the SGC's most valuable civilian resource - Teal'c nodded, "I will search the lab."

A grateful, "Thank you, sir," followed the concerned Jaffa as he entered the young archaeologist's lab. Teal'c moved unerringly toward the artifact which he knew to be his young friend's latest obsession. His eyes widened with horror as he neared the low counter. Daniel Jackson's too still form lay, surrounded by shards of glass, on the floor near the sink. Teal'c moved swiftly to the phone, and dialed a too familiar extension. "Medical emergency. Code Red. Daniel Jackson's laboratory."

*********

The man's voice betrayed his excitement. "It's marvelous. A perfect nine-week fetus. No sign of abnormality from the wormhole whatsoever." He paused, and his eyes narrowed as he thought about his experiment. Turning to face the young man across the room, he asked. "How often had she been through the Gate in the last nine weeks?"

His assistant selected a code and entered the question into the computer. Gulping, he reluctantly replied. "Only once, sir. Her team had been on stand-down due to injuries."

"Damn! What about the other one?"

The young man typed frantically on his keyboard. His face paled. "Sir, the four week mother has been through the gate twice since she was impregnated."

"Shit! One more gate trip in a very short time frame. I *knew* I should have taken her fetus. Dammit-to-hell! Well, we'll just ... No. There's no way to know if the others took, and they'd all be first trimester anyway." A shock of gray hair fell into his eyes, and was brushed absently away as he stared at his nervous assistant. "Stewart?"

"Y..yes, Dr. Howard?"

"If the next one has had more than four trips through the gate, I want to know about it, before anyone else. Understand?"

"Yes, sir, four trips on one of the regulars."

"NO! Don't you *ever* listen? Four trips. Period. Doesn't matter *who* she is."

"Even ..."

The doctor glared angrily at his lab assistant. "YES, are you deaf, even, ... Damn! No, best not to take chances on *that* front."

Stewart sighed in relief, and turned back to his beloved computer monitor. He never heard the whispered, "yet" that concluded his supervisor's statement.

***********

Airman Andrew Adams fearfully locked the elevator, assuring that the car would be available to the emergency medical team on their return trip from Dr. Jackson's lab. He simply could not believe this had happened. Of all the stupid, stupid things to have happen, Dr. Jackson getting sick on *his* watch, and he didn't even notice. He was absolutely certain the doctor had been fine when he last made his rounds. Surely he would've noticed if something was wrong. Dammit to hell, from what he'd seen when he heard Teal'c's cry, the scientist could very well be dead. Adams cringed as he recalled the panic he felt as he'd responded to the Jaffa's cry for assistance. Dr. Jackson's breathing had been labored as the young airman raced into the lab. To his absolute horror, he'd barely arrived when the unconscious archaeologist gave a shuddering gasp, and stopped breathing altogether. Adams had assisted the Jaffa with CPR until he'd been unceremoniously pushed aside by a nurse, who'd also responded to Teal'c's summons from another lab down the hall. He'd then found himself moving aside to make room for Dr. Frasier and her team. The rapid arrival of Colonel Jack O'Neill was too much for the young man, who'd retreated to the safety of his post. Adams leaned heavily on the desk near the elevator, and stared dejectedly down the hall, praying fervently that the soft-spoken scientist would survive.

***********

"It's not working, Ma'am. His throat's closed all the way now." The nurse sat back on her heels as Janet slid down by Daniel's side, ignoring the glass shards that imbedded themselves in her knees.

"Damn!" The frustrated physician quickly checked Daniel's airway. Confirming that it was totally blocked, she grabbed for her bag. "Anaphylactic shock. Where the he.. There!" Plunging a hypodermic into his abdomen, just below his navel, she depressed the plunger, praying frantically that she was in time.

Jack's voice contained little of the emotion he felt. "What's that?"

Her eyes never left her patient as she responded. "Epinephrine. If we're lucky, we're in time." The room held its collective breath as the seconds ticked by. Janet knelt in a pool of her own blood, one hand on the man's wrist, the other on his throat. Sighing in relief she stood up. "Good. He's already starting to breath on his own. Load him and roll, gentlemen."

The orderlies moved swiftly to place the unconscious man on the gurney. As they tightened the straps around Daniel, Janet turned to Teal'c. "What happened?"

Worried eyes watched as his friend was secured. "I arrived here moments ago to take Daniel Jackson to eat. He was on the floor, having much difficulty breathing."

"Blast!"

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, concern heavy in her tones.

"Anaphylactic shock can be caused by an allergic reaction. Daniel's allergic to so many things, but I've never had him do this before." She moved to follow the orderlies as they maneuvered the gurney toward the door. "I really need to know what he was doing , and what, if anything, he had eaten or taken just before he collapsed, but I guess we'll have to get that from Daniel when he comes to."

"Shouldn't he be waking up now? You gave him the shot."

Janet carefully hid a smile at the Colonel's question. "No, sir. Not necessarily. It may take another shot of epinephrine, or three, maybe more, liters of isotonic..." She stopped as she saw Jack's confused expression. "Uh, fluids, Colonel, special fluids."

Sam gasped as she spotted the blood on Janet's pants. "Janet, you're bleeding."

The surprised doctor stared in disgust at her pants legs, then glared at the glass shards on the floor where Daniel had lain. "Great. Well, I'm headed to the right place, don't ya think?"

"Huh?"

"The infirmary, I'm going to the infirmary."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 07

Janet rubbed her tired eyes, thankful for the miracle that she had hoped for but hadn't really expected... that the injection had pushed back the edema just enough so that Daniel could get some air in, giving them the precious few minutes they needed to get him to the infirmary where she could do a controlled assessment, and start the IV medication drips which would ensure that his airway wouldn't swell closed again.

As Janet started to follow the gurney, the room suddenly tilted. Only Jack's quick reflexes prevented her collapse. "Dr. Frasier!"

"Janet!"

The dual cries of concern brought a faint smile to the woman's lips. "Sorry, Colonel, Sam. I've been up a little too long. Really should have let Dr. Michaels respond to this."

The words had no sooner left her mouth than one of the corpsmen called out. "Dr. Frasier, something's wrong. I'm not getting a pulse."

Wordlessly, the physician yanked loose of Jack's grip and rushed to the gurney. Her eyes widened in horror as she realized the depth of her error. Had she only imagined him to be breathing? No, surely not. Surely she'd actually... not, now Janet. Concentrate on your patient. Checking Daniel's throat, it didn't take a genius to see that the improvement had been only temporary, and in addition to not lasting nearly long enough, it was clearly far too little, and just maybe, too late as well... considering that he had been in complete respiratory arrest, and probably oxygen deprived as well, when the emergency team had arrived.

'Shit!' Cursing under her breath, she seized a long curved blade held out by one of the corpsmen, and started to intubate the archaeologist. She huffed out an agitated breath as the metal blade appeared to hang up in Daniel's throat, only to find release a moment later. Taking great care not to damage the larynx, she continued her task, grateful that the obstruction was not bad enough to require her to do a tracheotomy.

As the tubing found a home, she was only vaguely aware that she'd bitten her lip. She quickly removed the stylet, and checked for a pulse. The young nurse attached an Ambu-bag to the tube's end, and began the process of pumping oxygen into the young man's lungs. Ignoring the taste of her own blood, Janet ripped open Daniel's shirt, calling for the paddles. A sigh of relief left multiple lips as a single shock did its job. As the nurse concentrated on bagging the young scientist, the corpsmen rapidly maneuvered the gurney into the elevator, with Janet Frasier along side. Her thoughts were racing as she watched oxygen being forced into her patient's lungs. She'd been incredibly stupid ... no, too tired. Dammit to hell! As the elevator doors slid shut, she caught herself staring down at the young man. His incredible intellect was a legend at the SGC, and her, her *mistake*... Dear God, had he been without oxygen too long? Had she managed to annihilate that intelligence with her own moment of stupidity?

**********

Ice blue eyes set deeply in an oval face, and highlighted by pale gray hair, were as cold and emotionless as their owner's inner thoughts. No warmth, or genuine laughter ever revealed themselves in the hidden depths of the man. Doctor Hans Reicher was brilliant, but, as was so often the case with true genius, emotionally stunted. He was, however, a consummate actor, capable of giving what would have been Oscar-winning performances had they been recognized as such. Never one to see past his own desires, he'd learned early on in life that the simplest way to use people for his benefit was to become their friend, and benefactor. Consequently, he'd racked up quite an impressive supply of international humanitarian and scientific awards, amassing large amounts of fame and wealth as he aged. His personal goals, beyond immediate self-gratification, were simple. Fame, which he had. Fortune, which he had. And eternal life, which he was working on.

His hand reached out and gently touched a framed photograph. Dear Katherine. So sweet, so beautiful, so hopelessly devoted to the memory of that insipid little prick ... what was his name? Didn't matter. He'd first met her just after the war, him, a young German geneticist, and her, a brilliant physicist, and archaeologist, following in her father's footsteps. Or trying to. The imbecile actually had preferred his assistant's company, to that of his daughter. Hans shook his head at the utter stupidity of the man.

After the death of ... Ernest. That was the name. Ernest. After his death, Hans had maintained a hope that Katherine would turn to him for comfort. But it was not to be. Instead, she threw herself into her father's work, ignoring the young blond scientist completely. He'd finally given up, and gone on with his life, marrying six times along the way, but never quite getting over Katherine.

A cold, unfeeling smile played on his lips as he recalled becoming her project's benefactor during the sixties. The 'conflict' in Vietnam was escalating out of control, and her funding had been cut to the bone. The military, in its infinite wisdom, had chosen to ignore the potential of a long-failed project, and concentrate on developing bigger and better weapons. He still remembered his delight as she'd approached him, requesting funding to continue her research. All thoughts of coupling with her were banished as he realized the potential of her 'mysterious circle'. He frowned as he remembered being shoved unceremoniously aside when certain military minds suddenly came to their senses about the device. But not until he'd spent vast sums of money getting the machine to actually do *something*. Katherine's delight when the first chevron had lit up had been worth the expense.

His monetary backing had proved valuable in more ways than one. His support of the project when government funding had been at its lowest, had granted him the gratitude of a nation. Or so the little idiot from the State department had said. It had also gleaned for him a high-level security clearance, high, but not high enough for more than minimal access to Stargate data. But even that limited exposure had piqued his interest. Now that *his* network was in place, information flowed freely, and he liked what'd he learned.

The Goa'uld. So deliciously soulless. So brilliantly inventive. So ... long-lived. His experiments were costing him a small fortune, but he had money to burn. He would have their secret, no matter the cost. And he would have it soon. Time, for Doctor Hans Reicher, was running out.

**********

Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter and Teal'c stood frozen to the floor of Daniel's lab. The scene outside the door had been a horrifying ordeal for all three. Jack's voice was barely above a whisper. "Ana... what kind of shock? From *allergies*?"

Sam absently replied. "Anaphylactic ... shock, that is. I've, uh, heard of it, but never really thought that Daniel... I mean, he's always sneezing. Holy Hannah, I thought that was it, just hay fever I mean." Turning to Jack, she continued, "He doesn't carry a kit of any kind. I would've thought that..." Her voice trailed off.

Teal'c's solemn reply brought their attention back to the Jaffa. "I have never seen such a reaction."

Sam put a hand on the man's shoulder. "You did everything right, Teal'c. You couldn't have done anything more."

"No, Teal'c, you did all you could."

The Jaffa nodded, but still eyed the now silent corridor.

Jack did a quick once-over of the remainder of his team. "Well, kids, lets go check on Daniel." 'And,' he thought, 'Dr. Frasier.' He started for the door, but was stopped by Sam. Turning he saw her kneel quickly on the floor by Daniel's work-station. "What...?

"Daniel's allergy pills fell on the floor. I'm picking them up. Looks like he lost the whole bottle." She was quickly gathering up the medicine as she spoke.

"Fat lot of good they did him." Jack replied sourly, obviously disturbed by this betrayal of modern medicine. "Coming, Major?"

"Yes, sir." Sam did a once-over of the floor. Spotting no more loose pills, she shoved the bottle into a pocket, and rose quickly to her feet. "Oh, oh."

Turning at the sound of her voice, Jack was barely in time to catch her before she hit the floor. 'Shit. Not another one.'

Teal'c looked calmly at the pale, unconscious form of the Major. "Samantha Carter has fainted, Colonel O'Neill."

"Ya think?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 08

Though confused by Jack's sarcastic response, Teal'c elected to ignore it, and moved quickly to reach for the phone.

"Wait, Teal'c, you don't need to call for a team."

The Jaffa's eyebrows raised in confusion. "Major Carter has fainted. Perhaps she has been affected by whatever injured Daniel Jackson."

"No. No, that's not it. She's, uh, she's ... coming around now." Jack relaxed, somewhat. Teal'c's concern had never really occurred to him and he was relieved to see the color coming back into Carter's cheeks. God, how many times had he done the catching number when Sara was pregnant with Ch... Don't go there, O'Neill. A low groan pulled his attention back to Carter. "Welcome back, Major."

Confusion reigned in her eyes for a moment, followed by a deeper reddening of her cheeks as she realized where she was. Gulping, she pushed away from her commanding officer's chest, and put her head in her hands, trying to ignore the waves of dizziness and nausea.

Jack leaped easily to his feet and offered her a hand, for once forgoing his normally sarcastic remarks. "Easy, Major. Don't rush it. Don't want a repeat performance."

Her eyes met his, and she smiled sourly as she took his hand, allowing him to pull her upright. "Sorry, sir. I don't know what happened."

"Well, *I* do."

"Sir?"

O'Neill barely managed to conceal a grin at her confusion. "Sara did it all the time."

Her eyes widened as the meaning of his words hit home. "Oh. *OH!*"

"R.i.g.h.t! Now, let's go check on Daniel."

**********

The computer beeped urgently for attention, and Stewart moved tiredly to check email. Reading the contents, he cast a secretive glance at his immediate superior on the opposite side of the lab. Dr. Howard had given him strict instructions to tell him about any new pregnancies where the mother had been through the gate at least four times. And while the older man had *said* he wouldn't take action if *she* was the mother, Stewart wasn't so sure. The man was obsessed with determining the effects of gate travel on a developing fetus. Some sort of hair-brained theory that excessive exposure to worm-hole stresses would cause genetic mutations. Well, that part was okay, but Howard firmly believed that the Goa'uld, Stewart shuddered at the name, once possessed bodies similar to that of their human hosts. That this was what allowed them to merge so completely with their hosts. And that by studying the genetic mutations in the human embryos, Howard believed he could develop a race of genetically superior humans. Personally, Stewart thought the man to be a little mad, but the pay was good.

His eyes returned to the email. *She* was pregnant. Dr. Reicher would be pleased, but Dr. Howard... Stewart wasn't sure the man wouldn't ignore her special status, and try to use her for his own purposes. The nervous lab assistant hit 'check mail' one more time, and waited while the server returned the message 'no mail at this time'. He knew what he had to do. Ultimately Reicher was paying him to do a job, and Stewart wasn't stupid enough to double-cross *that* man. He'd take his info directly to Reicher. Shivering slightly, he rose silently from his chair.

"What came in, Stewart?" Howard's eyes were mild, but the younger man felt the implied threat behind them.

"Uh, just an ad to upgrade the encyclopedia software. I deleted it."

"I see." Howard eyed his young assistant suspiciously. "Where are you going?"

"T..to the b..bathroom, sir. Only to the b..bathroom."

Howard watched the nervous young man leave the room. He wasted no time in pulling up Stewart's email. The stupid youngster actually believed that his password was *secret*. What's this? An email from SGC. Little asshole thought he'd be able to hide *this* from *me*? Incredibly stupid, so where... Oh, no, no, no. He wouldn't. Howard glanced at the door. Yes, yes he would. Stupid, disloyal, pain in the ass... well, he knew how to handle *that*.

He picked up the handset, and punched a speed-dial number. A momentary pause, and ... "Sir, I just received word from SGC. We've had another success, *and* it's the one you've been waiting for. ... Yes, sir. Samantha Carter is pregnant. ... Yes, sir. I knew you'd be pleased." The line went dead, and Howard leaned back in the swivel chair, smiling to himself. Let the little idiot report *now*. It would be interesting to see how Reicher handled this situation.

*********

The infirmary was buzzing with activity when SG-1 arrived. Daniel lay, pale, and still unconscious, surrounded by the equipment that was keeping him alive. IV drips hung over his head, and a respirator had now replaced the Ambu-bag from the hallway. Dr. Harry Michaels adjusted the flow on the saline, frowning until he was satisfied that it was moving fast enough.

Jack frowned as he searched the room for Janet Frasier. Harry Michaels was okay, but this was *Daniel*. He finally spotted the petite doctor sitting on a bed on the far side of the room, a young medic with SGC plucking glass shards from her knees. His frown deepened as he saw the blood, only to be replaced by a small smile as he listened to her berate the young woman in front of her 'to be careful, she was on her last set of knees'.

Janet looked up, and motioned the SG-1 team members over to her. "Sorry about this, Reynolds is working on finishing *off*," she gasped, "my knees. I don't think you used enough anesthetic, Marti."

"Yes, Doctor Frasier." The young woman dropped a large piece of glass into the bowl beside her and turned to the SG-1 team, her eyes unable to hide her amusement. "I'll be finished in a moment, sirs."

"Doc, how's Daniel?" Jack turned worried eyes back to where his too-still friend lay.

"The edema is receding, the respirator is merely a precaution right now. We'll monitor him for twenty-four hours and, unless there are complications, probably release him."

"What kind of complications?" Sam asked concerned.

"With this kind of reaction, we'll have to make sure he didn't have a cardiac injury, his blood pressure doesn't remain unstable, or he hasn't suffered cerebral injury." The last words were uttered in almost a whisper.

"*Brain* damage. You're telling me that Daniel could be *brain* damaged from a...an allergy attack?" Jack struggled with the words, Sam gasped, and even Teal'c looked noticeably concerned.

Marti Reynolds placed the last of the bandages on her superior's knees. "You're all set, Ma'am."

"Thank you, Marti. Go give Michaels a hand."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Janet's eyes dropped to her lap, and she studied her bandages for a moment. Huffing in a deep breath, she looked at the concerned faces of SG-1. Daniel's friends. *Her* friends. "I don't know how long Daniel had been without oxygen when I got there, and ..."

"Daniel Jackson was breathing when I entered the room. I began Ceeper as soon as he stopped."

"Ceeper?" Janet looked confused. "Oh, CPR. That's good, Teal'c, but still, as fast as his throat swelled, the oxygen levels when he was breathing may not have been enough to sustain his brain functions." She paused, guilt written all over her face. "Then I thought he was okay for transport, that I had enough time to get him *here*. I was wrong."

Jack started to speak but the words wouldn't come. Clearing his throat, he asked. "When will we know?"

"Twenty-four hours. We should know in twenty-four hours."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 09

"An allergic reaction? What the hell do you mean he had an allergic reaction? ... Never mind. I know what Anaphylactic shock is. ... Is he dead? ... SHIT! Keep an eye on the situation, but I warn you, Jackson must not regain consciousness. Doesn't really matter if he's dead or not, as long as he doesn't wake up. ... Ever." The handset slammed into its cradle and Reicher leaned back in his chair. Shit! The phony medication Daniel Jackson had been given had been carefully designed to take forty-eight hours to react with his body chemistry. Death should have been almost instantaneous with the right amount of drugs, but no, the damned man had an allergic reaction.

Even if it wasn't to an ingredient in his medication, anything he'd ingested would be suspect. He had no doubt that the poison in the fake antihistamines would be found. And to make matters worse, the Carter bitch was pregnant, and completely out of his reach. He knew the reputation of SG-1. There was no way she'd leave the facility, not until Jackson was out of the woods, which of course, would be never. He had to have her. He'd worked too hard to obtain sperm from the host of the dying Apophis. And Carter was the key to everything. The protein marker left when the Tok'ra Jolinar died, should, according to the text he'd stolen, give him what he needed. If Jackson did manage to wake up and remember ... Worry about that later, you've got bigger problems now. Like how to get the Major away from SGC.

********

"That's it? Everything? Sure you haven't left something out?"

"Colonel Maybourne, I assure you that I've covered everything. The phony birth control pills, the pregnant women."

"What about the dead woman? Has the autopsy been done yet?"

"No, her body is on its way here, and the doctor who's to perform it has been paged to return here."

"Return here? Dr. Frasier's not doing it?"

"No, she's been up entirely too long, and asked to stand down from this ... task. Dr. Judith Harris will be doing it."

"I'll be observing."

"Of course, the observation theat..."

"I don't think you understand, General. I will be observing on the floor."

"I'm not sure that Dr. Harris will allow that."

"General, the situation isn't up for debate. Either I observe Dr. Harris, or one of my people does the autopsy, in which case I can assure you that I will be observing."

"May I remind you, *Colonel*, that this is my base, and that I will make the final decisions here."

"May I remind you, *General*, that you specifically requested my, uh, skills to determine who, or what, is trying to destroy your facility. Now either I have total control or I go home. Which is it?"

Hammond stared angrily at the man, wondering if he'd made a mistake. "Free reign, for now, Colonel. But do remember that I can tighten those reins whenever I choose."

"Understood, now..."

The intercom in Hammond's office squawked into life. "Medical emergency. Code Red. Daniel Jackson's laboratory."

Hammond rose from his desk. "That's on level..."

"I know what level it's on, General, but I fail to see the relevance."

"Something may have happened to Dr. Jackson."

"Unless he's pregnant, which I doubt, I prefer to let the medical team do its job, while I do mine. Now when is Allison Miller's body expected to arrive?"

**********

Jack O'Neill looked from Janet Frasier to Daniel Jackson and back to Janet Frasier once more. "I'm staying with him."

Janet smiled tiredly. "Chair's already there, Colonel. Had 'em put a cushion in it for you."

"Thanks." Jack headed for Daniel's bed.

"Colonel?"

Jack turned to face the doctor. "Yes, Doctor?"

"Talk to him. As much as you can." She swept her arm around to take in Teal'c and Carter. "All of you. Can't hurt, and there's a great deal of evidence that it helps."

"Right. I, we can do that. Right kids?"

"Yes sir."

"That is correct, O'Neill."

Teal'c followed Jack to Daniel's bed. Sam hesitated a moment, concerned by the pale face of her friend. "Janet, are you all right?"

The pretty brunette met Sam's eyes. "Oh, I'm just peachy, considering that I'm overtired, and just may have turned Daniel into a vegetable."

"Janet, you..."

"Should have let Michaels handle the damn call, but no, I've got this, this hero complex, and have to go out on every emergency call we get."

"Janet, don't beat yourself up about this. You couldn't have known things would go sour."

"I'm a physician, dammit, Sam. I'm supposed to anticipate and plan for everything."

"Even guilt?"

"Huh?"

"Looks like Daniel doesn't own a patent on guilt."

Janet Frasier had the grace to blush. "Guess not." She looked worriedly over at the bed where Daniel lay, breathing still controlled by the respirator. "But if anything is wrong..."

"Then we'll deal with it. Just like normal. Oh, yeah, I found these pills..." She reached into her pocket. "That's odd, they were there."

"What pills?" Janet's interest was piqued.

"Well to be accurate, they're actually capsules. They were on the floor. Looks like Daniel dropped them. Holy Hannah, I bet they fell out of my pocket."

"How?"

"Oh when I fain... Ooops."

Janet glared at the young woman. "You fainted, and you weren't going to tell me."

"Well, I got up too fast, and kinda, well, yeah, fainted. But I feel fine now. The bottle must have fallen out of my pocket. I'll go back to the lab and get them."

"No go. I suggest you call the airman on duty and get those capsules to the lab. They're probably just his antihistamines, but we can't be too careful. Then I suggest you get some rest."

"Look who's talking. Dr. Asleep-on-her-feet. I'll take it easy up here, but, Doctor, I suggest you get some sleep."

Janet laughed lightly. "You're right. Tell Michaels to call me if there's a change, and get those capsules to the lab."

"Right." Sam watched concerned as her tired friend left the infirmary.

**********

Hammond was still glaring at Colonel Maybourne when the phone rang. "Hammond! ... What! When? ... No, I'll handle that. When is the next flight out? ... Excellent. I'll need a car and driver in thirty minutes to make that flight." He looked tired as he disconnected.

"Problem, General?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Maybourne. You can use my computer to access the records of the affected women. I have some business to tend to. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"The body?"

"You'll be notified when *she* arrives."

Maybourne acknowledged the General's correction with a nod, and began to study the personnel records. He never saw the look of pure venom Hammond shot him as he left the room.

**********

Hammond entered the infirmary, and stared for a moment at his SG-1 team. Colonel O'Neill, Major Carter, and Teal'c hovered around the bed containing the unconscious form of Daniel Jackson. Teal'c noticed his approach first, warning the others with his nod of respect. The two Air Force officers started to jump to attention, but Hammond forestalled their actions. "At ease, how's my boy?"

"Anaphylactic shock, but he looks better than he did." O'Neill spoke optimistically, ignoring the fact that only thirty minutes before, Daniel had looked dead.

Hammond nodded. "Major, may I have a word with you, in private, please?"

"Of course, sir." Sam tried to quell the panic she felt. Surely Janet hadn't reported her pregnancy. No, Janet had promised to let Sam tell the news. She followed Hammond into Janet's office, growing more concerned with each step. "Sir, what's wrong?"

He closed the door. "There's no easy way to say this, Major. I just got a phone call. Your brother and his wife have been in an automobile accident."

"Oh GOD!"

"I'm told that he's going to be okay, but her condition is guarded. The children are being cared for by neighbors, but you're needed there as soon as you can get there."

"Sir, I have to check the military flights, maybe they'll have a flight?"

"Easy, Major. I've got you on a plane, and a car and driver will be out front in a few minutes. If there's anything I can do?"

"Th..thank you, sir. Please tell the team. I..I don't think I can face them right now."

"Certainly Major. Now you'd better go."

"Y..Yes, sir. Sir, could you try to reach my father?"

"The Tok'ra have been hard to find lately, Major, but we'll do our best."

"Yes, sir. Excuse me, sir." With that, the distraught young woman fled the infirmary, watched with concern by her SG team, and the General.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 10

Jack O'Neill watched as Samantha Carter fled the room, then turned to meet the General's equally concerned eyes. Jack stifled a smile as he saw Hammond brace himself and move deliberately toward Daniel's bed, where he and Teal'c held vigil. Hammond had barely gotten to the door when he glanced down at his belt, and made a face. 'Obviously,' Jack thought, 'his pager did one of those annoying noise things.' As O'Neill watched, the General checked the number, and turned back toward the phone on Dr. Frasier's desk.

Outside the office, Jack frowned, glanced at the unconscious Daniel, then at the door through which the Major had vanished. From there his eyes followed the General as he picked up the phone. Jack allowed himself another quick look at Daniel. "Teal'c..."

"I will watch Daniel Jackson, O'Neill. He will come to no harm."

"Ya think?" The sarcasm was lost on the Jaffa. "Uh, thanks, Teal'c. The General and I need to chat."

He crossed the infirmary in long, almost angry, strides, and stopped at the now open door to Janet's office. Carter had fled so quickly, she'd failed to close it behind her. Jack's thoughts were in turmoil as he walked. Hammond had better *not* have said anything to Carter about her pregnancy. He couldn't remember if she'd already told the General or not, but he didn't think so. Carter would've wanted her immediate CO to know first, and Janet wouldn't have gone against the Major's wishes and told the General, without good reason. Jack raised his hand to knock on the door frame, but was spotted, and motioned inside, by an obviously confused senior officer. "If you'll hold on just a minute, sir. I'll put you on speaker." Hammond punch the speaker button and replaced the handset. "Now, Mr. Jacobs, I've asked one of my senior officers, Colonel O'Neill, to join me. Would you mind repeating what you just told me?"

An angry voice came through the line. "I don't see how you made General with a memory like that. But..." Jack winced at that comment, but the man on the other end of the phone continued unabated. "...like I said. She left me a message that she didn't have to work all weekend like she'd thought, and that she wanted to see me, said she'd even cook for a change. Said it was important. But she's not here, and her door's wide open. As far as I can tell she hasn't even been here at all. Everyone there keeps giving me the run around. Some nut even said she'd signed out, but if that was true, she'd have gone home. Now I ask you, where the hell is she?"

Jack took over from an obviously irritated General. "I'm sorry, sir. *Who's* not there?"

The male voice changed instantly from angry to contrite. "Oh, God, I didn't say, did I? Naomi, Naomi Ramirez." As quickly as it had disappeared, the anger returned. "Just what the hell have you people done with her?"

*********

"Don't worry, Major, we'll make the flight, with time to spare." The young driver had misinterpreted his passenger's worried look.

"What? Oh, thank you, Airman..." Sam struggled for the name, "...Dority. That's good to know." She settled back in the seat, and tried to relax. It would be a long, uncomfortable flight to Mark's home, and she might as well take advantage of the soft seats while she could. She was grateful that Mark was apparently okay, but worried about her young sister-in-law. Thank God the children hadn't been with them in the wreck. Oh, damn, wasn't it... yes, the baby's birthday is next week. Maybe her Mom will be better then. Please God. Don't leave them motherless, they're much too young.

Sam was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear Airman Dority's curse. The sudden momentum produced by the car skidding to a stop threw her to the limits of her seatbelt, causing the shoulder belt to tighten uncomfortably. "What?" She looked around her blinking rapidly in astonishment.

The uniforms took her by surprise. This part of the mountain was Air Force domain, patrolled by a variety of armed services personnel, and she was surprised to see the highway patrolmen this far up the road. She was even more stunned to see the road-block.

"Ma'am, if you wait here, I'll try to find out what the local yokels are doing up here." Dority's voice was tense with suppressed anger; he'd had to brake hard to avoid a collision with the State-owned vehicles, and worse, had almost bruised a superior officer in the process.

Sam was content to sit back and let the young man deal with the unwelcome interruption. She checked her watch, and realized that she still had time to make her flight. Glancing back at the road, she gasped as she saw her young driver stagger backwards and fall into a motionless heap. Her mind was too numb with grief, shock, and fear to recognize the threat, as she clambered out of the car. She never saw the cloth that sent her into oblivion.

************

Only a solemn promise from General Hammond to find Naomi got the young Mr. Jacobs off the line. Hammond was still looking at the phone as he spoke. "Colonel, you do realize that Naomi Ramirez is one of the pregnant women."

"Yes, sir. And Carin Tobolo is another. May I recommend sending a team to Airman Ramirez's home to do a thorough search, and let's see if we can find Lt. Tobolo, hopefully she's at home." Jack looked thoughtful. "And then there's Allison Miller, I'm sure Maybourne will be interested in that poor kid, when he gets here."

"Maybourne's here."

"Special."

"He's insisting on being on the floor for the autopsy."

"Why?"

"The lit...he wouldn't say."

"Again, special." The Colonel sighed in defeat. "Sir, I recommend that he and his people handle the check on Airman Ramirez."

"Why?"

"Just strikes me as odd that Ramirez is missing and Miller is dead, and they're both pregnant. I'm betting Tobolo's also missing, dammit."

"Colonel, you're implying that the pregnant women are in danger."

"Yes, sir, I am. Could be all of the women that are being threatened, but so far all the activity's been centered around the pregnant ones."

"I'll order all the female staff confined to base until further notice, except..."

"Sir?"

"I was on my way to tell you. Major Carter's brother and sister-in-law were injured in a car wreck. The Major's on the way to catch her flight now."

Jack's eyes widened with horror. "Get her back here, now sir."

"Colonel, I don't think so. The children need her."

"Sir, Major Carter's pregnant."

Hammond stared for a moment at the Colonel, then quickly punched in the number of the main gate. Jack's face fell, and took on a worried demeanor, as he heard that Major Carter had passed the gate and was no longer in sight.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 11

'Ouch. What the... My throat really hurts. Lying down? Right. Eyes do *not* want to open. What's that noi... Oh. The infirmary. Shit. What'd I do wrong this time?" The thoughts tumbled through Daniel Jackson's brain at lightning speed.

"Welcome back, Danny-boy, and before you ask, you didn't do anything wrong."

Eyelids beat frantically in an effort to open and stay that way. Soon blue eyes met brown, and the non-stop mouth opened to speak. A hoarse croak, sounding more like a senile bull-frog than a human, emerged.

"Ouch. Here, have some ice chips. Throat's sore, huh?"

Daniel nodded as he gratefully allowed the ice chips to melt in his mouth, alleviating some of the dryness, but drawing even more attention to the sensitive tissues. "Y' th'k?"

"I believe that's my line."

"R'gt. Wh't h'pnd?"

"Allergic reaction."

"T' wh't?"

"Your allergy medicine." Barely suppressed anger worked for control of Jack's voice.

"N'w al'gy md'cn?"

"New, yes. Allergy medicine, no. Don't know exactly what it is myself yet. Dr. Frasier just got the lab reports back about thirty minutes ago." He added thoughtfully. "Never seen her really pissed before."

"H'..." Growing tired of slurred words, Daniel cleared his throat and tried again. "How long?"

"Eight hours and fifteen point seven-five minutes. If you're looking for accuracy, that is."

"Accurate is good." Daniel studied his friend and commanding officer closely. The stubble of beard on his face, and the shadows around his eyes told of another damn vigil. But there was something else. The normal exuberance that accompanied the end of one of Jack's too frequent infirmary vigils was missing. "What's wrong?"

The Colonel ducked his head for a moment, staring hard at his hands. "What isn't?"

"Jack."

"Well, for one thing, Doc ordered the pharmacy shelves cleared."

"Why?"

"Your medicine wasn't the only fake stuff."

"Oh my God. What else was fake? Has anyone else been hurt?"

"Okay, you want the long story or the Reader's Digest Condensed Version?"

"Condense it for me."

"Fine. Try fake birth control pills. And, Stargate team members who are pregnant *and* missing. Maybourne's investigating."

Daniel stared for a long moment at his friend. "Oh. That left out a lot."

"Condensed version. You asked for it."

The young archaeologist frowned. "What else is wrong? You obviously haven't had enough sleep, and you haven't shaved. Not like you, Jack. So out with it."

Jack took a deep breath. "The missing women - well, Carter's one of them."

**********

Major Samantha Carter paced the confines of her cell, trying to check the almost overwhelming urge to cry. Tears of rage kept threatening to control her. Her last conscious memory, before the lights went out, was of the young airman, bleeding to death on the pavement, hands twitching in agony. Upon awakening, she'd found herself strapped tightly to an examining table, complete with - she shuddered at the memory - stirrups.

She'd always hated the annual physical, and all it entailed, but this, this was much worse. Almost rape in its violation by strangers. Worse than rape in the number of *strangers* involved, and the clinical procedures performed. No faces, only masks, and that horrible feeling of being powerless to stop what was happening. She'd buried herself in military dogma, and endured, somehow, swearing that someone, somewhere was going to pay for what was being done to her.

"Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry." The words repeated as a chant, over and over, had no real impact on her rage, ... and fear. Stumbling over her own feet, she slammed into the wall. Without warning, her hands took on a life of their own as they started to beat on the defenseless concrete. Suddenly, she collapsed, sliding down the wall and coming to rest in a heap on the cold floor. Exhausted, she rested her head on her knees. "Damn, damn, damn. Don't cry. Mustn't be emotional." Without warning, she heard Daniel's words, spoken in another traumatic moment in her life, "Why not?"

Startled, she lifted her head looking for her young friend, knowing he wasn't there. Rising, she crossed to the single bed and flopped down onto the mattress, slightly surprised that it was comfortable. Saying a quick prayer for Daniel's safety, she thought about what he'd said. "Why not? ... why not indeed!" Burying her head in the pillow, she cried herself to sleep.

**********

"Well, this week has gone to shit fast." Jack glared at the rest of his team congregated around the briefing room table. Daniel nervously rapped a pencil lightly against the wood veneer. The Colonel tolerated the annoying noise for a moment, then covered Daniel's hand with his own. "Don't."

Daniel hastily dropped the offending pencil. "Right. No problem."

"The noise offends you in some manner, O'Neill?" Teal'c watched the Colonel's actions with interest.

"No, Teal'c, the noise isn't really the problem." Jack sighed heavily.

"You are concerned about Major Carter, and the rest of the missing women."

The search of Naomi Ramirez's home had turned up nothing, Lt. Tobolo's roommate reported the young woman had never returned from the grocery store, and worse from SG-1's perspective, neither Samantha Carter nor Airman Bruce Dority had been seen since they passed the gates.

"Yeah, Teal'c, I am. Hell, the damn car hasn't even been found yet."

"It has now." Hammond's voice was grim as he entered the room.

O'Neill gulped, and asked the question on all their minds. "Carter? ... Dority?"

"Carter's not with it. Dority's dead, single shot to the head. Car was rolled into a ravine not two miles from here. It was also hidden by deliberately placed foliage. The dogs found it about thirty minutes ago. Maybourne's people are on site."

"They're sure Sam's not there somewhere? Maybe in the bushes, hurt?" Daniel put to voice what was on everyone's mind.

"No, son, Maybourne's man, Major Sanders, says the brush was too thick. If Major Carter had been injured or thrown from the car, there'd be signs."

"But what if they dumped her somewhere else? Sir, we've got to increase the patrols. She could be lying just out of si..."

Jack placed a hand on Daniel's shoulder, effectively shutting off the flow of words. "What's that razor thing Carter's always talking about? The one about simple solutions?"

"Occam's Razor? Where the simplest of two or more competing theories is probably the correct one?" Daniel was obviously confused.

"Yeah, that's it. Simple. Ramirez is missing, Tobolo is missing, therefore, Carter is missing. Whoever did this went to a lot of trouble to grab the other women, quietly and quickly. They hid the car to keep it, and Dority, from being found. No, the simplest solution is that they're all alive, somewhere, for some reason. Can't, won't think otherwise."

"Just playing devil's advocate here, but Allison Miller's dead."

"Daniel, for once, I'm gonna be optimistic. The women are alive. Besides, we don't even know she was abducted."

"Ahem..."

All eyes turned to see Colonel Maybourne standing in the door. "Much as I hate to admit it, I have to agree with O'Neill. At least partially."

"Don't do me any favors."

"Don't worry. But... the autopsy on Miller proved very interesting."

"Just spill it Maybourne." Jack was furious.

"General, control your staff."

"They are under control, *Colonel*." Hammond added a silent 'no one's hit you ... yet.'

Maybourne frowned, then continued as if the conversation had never taken place. "Miller was pregnant."

"We know that." Daniel started rapping the pencil again. Jack moved to stop him, then noticed the look of annoyance on Maybourne's face.

"But ... you don't know that the fetus was taken from her before she died."

"You mean she had an abortion." Jack was trying to get his anger under control.

"If so, it was an unusual one. There were drugs in her system which would have caused a miscarriage."

"Okay, so?"

"Abortions are usually quick and relatively painless. Miscarriages are not. But, a miscarriage gives you an intact fetus. Abortion may not. In addition there is evidence that she was dead long before the car went off the cliff."

Daniel's eyes widened. "Someone wanted the baby?"

"Fetus, Jackson, it's a fetus. And yes, I believe someone wanted the fetus, intact, which means the other women will probably stay alive until that someone wants to harvest their's."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 12

Janet Frasier peered worriedly at the slides. Adjusting the focus for the third time, she pulled slide number one out, and replaced it with slide ten.

"Janet?"

"Oh, hi Harry."

"Is there something wrong?" He smiled a little, then commented. "Stupid thing to ask, wasn't it?"

"No, actually it's a very good question, but here lately it's easier to say what's right than what's wrong."

"Understand. Read the report on Allison Miller. And the rumor mill has three other women, including Major Carter pregnant and missing. Since I know the pregnant part's correct, can I assume that the missing is correct as well?"

Janet hesitated. The information was classified on a need to know basis only. She glanced down at her slides. "Can't really say, Harry."

"That's okay. It was worth a shot. What ya looking at?"

"Da... Dr. Jackson's blood work, among other things."

"And the confused look is for... Darn it, Janet, I'd like to help, and I *am* Dr. Jackson's primary physician this go around. ... Unless that's changed."

"No. Nothing's changed. Sorry. Should've called you. I've been trying to isolate what the substances in these *capsules* are, but the only one I've id'd so far, other than the outer shell, doesn't make any sense."

"You're saying the substance inside is alien." Michaels was horrified.

"Yes."

"Oh, Geez. But no idea what... What do you mean you id'd one that doesn't make sense?"

"It's arsenic. A small amount of arsenic."

"Arsenic? What the... That's a poison."

"Yes, but a very slow one when used in small doses like this one. It has to build in the body for months before it finally kills. And since death looks like natural causes, it's very hard to find."

"Does Dr. Jackson have a build-up in his hair or fingernails? Is he anemic?"

Janet shook her head. "No, those are some of the tests I did. He's definitely not anemic, but to be on the safe side I tested his hair. Nothing, thank God, not a trace."

Michaels looked relieved. "Then this is his first exposure."

"This time. But at least I know what he's allergic to. I just don't know why he reacted so adversely."

"This time? Dr. Jackson's allergic to arsenic?"

"It's in his records." Janet eyed the man with surprise.

"Yeah along with an allergy to just about every type of pollen, dust, etc, known to man. Guess I better reread his chart."

Janet grinned. "Probably."

"So how'd you find out he was sensitive to arsenic?"

"He rounded the corner at Colonel O'Neill's house just as the pest control man was dousing a hornet's nest. Or I should say a hornet infestation. Major nesting while the Colonel was on a prolonged mission. Daniel got drenched in the chemical spray. Developed a lovely rash. Nothing more. Tests isolated the reaction to the arsenic. Nothing to worry about, I mean, how often are you gonna get exposed to arsenic?"

Michaels smiled. "I'd say arsenic exposure is probably rare." His smile faded. "But it certainly doesn't sound like he'd go into anaphylactic shock with a second exposure, even if it was oral rather than topical."

"Yeah, but he did."

"True, what about the other chemicals? Could he be allergic to one of them also?"

"I don't know, but what worries me more is that I have no idea how to find out. I can't do controlled testing without knowing what the original purpose of the chemicals was. If it's some sort of slow-acting alien poison, which I suspect because of the arsenic, even controlled testing could kill him."

*************

Hans Reicher was angry past the point of tirade. His already pale face, was ghost pale, with random blotches of red as he heard the news that not only had Daniel Jackson survived, but his brain functions were apparently unimpaired. "What, may I ask, went wrong?"

The man on the other end of the phone would have preferred screams to the quiet menace in his employer's words. "The Jaffa found him in time to call for help, and the doctors were able to st..stabilize him. I'm s..sorry, s..sir."

"Sorry is not acceptable. You, sir, are a failure. I do not tolerate failures. Jackson must die. Now. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. How would you suggest that I, uh, do it?"

"Kill him, you mean? I have no idea. That's why I employ people like yourself. To tighten up all those nasty little loose ends. Make sure it happens." Reicher disconnected without waiting for the pathetic assurances from his *man*, at least he supposed that's what it was, at the SGC.

Glaring at the phone, he dialed another number. "Well?"

"Samantha Carter is definitely pregnant, and very, very healthy."

Reicher's mood improved drastically. "Excellent. Make certain she stays that way. Oh, and make sure she's moved to a less disturbing environment than the cell-block. Gently. One of the secure penthouses will be fine. I want her to experience as little stress as possible. I've heard it's bad on a developing fetus."

He hung up, whistling slightly as he made his decision. Pressing another sequence of speed-dial digits, he reached an external number. "Our 'source' at the SGC is no longer necessary. See that he's eliminated, and that all tracks are removed. But first, he's under orders to eliminate Daniel Jackson. I do not believe he will succeed. Handle it. Double the standard fee."

***********

What remained of SG-1 watched solemnly as the staff car was hoisted to the road. The body of Airman Dority had already been removed by Maybourne's staff. As the J-hook lowered the car to the ground, Daniel rushed to the back door. Jack sighed heavily. "She's not in there, Daniel. You know that."

Daniel shot his friend a *look*. "Yes, I know that, Jack. I was just looking to see if she'd left anything, like maybe her purse."

"I'm sure Maybourne's people searched it already."

"Right, like you trust..."

"Really Doctor Jackson, I didn't realize you had such a suspicious mind." Maybourne frowned at the young scientist.

Daniel blushed a deep red, but wisely said nothing. Jack ducked his head to hide a grin. A short moment later, he looked up, the perfect image of an Air Force Colonel. "Well, Colonel Maybourne, what *have* you found?"

"From the tire tracks, we can tell that there were three vehicles here. Two cars, mid-size, and a van or truck of some sort."

"Special. Anything else?"

Maybourne looked mildly insulted. "Well, do bloodstains on the pavement tell you anything?"

Daniel looked vaguely ill. "Airman Dority was shot on the road? That means the staff car stopped for some reason."

"Ya think?" Jack uncrossed his arms and punched a finger into Maybourne's chest. "Don't let the Colonel here try a fast one, Daniel. The staff car had to stop. It would've gone over the edge with Carter in it if that poor kid had been shot while driving. Come on, Maybourne. You haven't got anything substantial, have you?"

The other man barely controlled his anger, then smiled bitterly. "Nothing. Not here at any rate. Whoever's doing this has gone to a great deal of trouble to hide his tracks, no pun intended."

The retort died on Jack's lips as a distant flash attracted his attention. His eyes narrowed as a cry of "Down!" left his lips.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 13

The cry of 'down' had barely left his lips when Jack dove for the pavement, as far from the staff car as he could leap. Out of the corner of his eye, he was relieved to see the military types, even Maybourne, also eating dirt, and seeking cover. The same corner, however, failed to see Daniel take immediate action. Fear for the younger man caused Jack to slow his own descent slightly, and roll over to frantically search for his friend. 'Gotta work on the ducking thing again, dammit.' In the same instant, he caught sight of Daniel being unceremoniously dragged to the pavement by Teal'c. Jack allowed himself a short sigh of relief, covered his head, and waited. ... And waited. ... And waited. ... Nothing.

"What the... O'NEILL!" Maybourne's furious voice could be heard swearing from a nearby ditch.

"Jack, what on earth?"

O'Neill warily raised his head. "Stay down. Yes, Maybourne, that means you, too."

"O'Neill, if this is some sort of stupid game..."

"Maybourne, I saw a flash, could've been a scope."

"You mean a rifle?"

To his own amazement, Jack didn't go ballistic. "Yes, on a rifle, but it could also have been binoculars. Everyone stay down." Frowning he glanced at the two airmen crouched behind the staff car. "Hendricks, Jacobs, move away from the car. Get into the woods."

"Sir? We can't st..."

"*Move it!*" Every instinct Jack had was telling him something was wrong, that to stay near the large vehicle would be dangerous. "Michaels, you got the hand unit?"

"Yes, sir."

"Use it. I want a patrol in sector..." Jack wracked his brain for the coordinates, "7A. Yesterday."

"Yes, sir!" The young woman quickly positioned herself for the best radio reception with the least exposure.

Jack nodded his silent approval of her actions. From his left, he heard Maybourne grumbling. "What's on your mind, Colonel?"

The angry man pushed himself upright. "This is ridiculous. I will not lie in the dirt for who knows how long waiting on a patrol to find phantoms. Kennedy! Soloman! Chin!"

Maybourne's people rose quickly to acknowledge their commanding officer. A trio of off-timed 'yes, sirs' rang out.

Jack leaped angrily to his feet. "Damn it to hell. Get DOWN!"

The world exploded in the form of the staff car as a bazooka shell hit it, dead center. The flash was as blinding as the noise was deafening. As O'Neill's consciousness faded, he saw Teal'c turn into a human shield, positioning his bulk between Daniel and the car-turned-projectile.

*********

"Medical emergency! Code Red! Multiple casualties. Gate Road." The intercom interrupted the relative quiet of the lab. Janet Frasier leaped from her stool, heading for the door to join the medical alert team in the ambulance, or in this case, she thought wryly, ambulances. Harry Michaels began setting up for a triage scenario, should one be necessary.

One ambulance was already en route by the time Janet arrived at the departure station. As she jumped into the back of the waiting vehicle, she shouted "Go!", barely keeping her balance as the driver squealed the tires leaving the garage. The medic already inside grabbed her arm and pushed her onto a seat, then moved swiftly to close the doors. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

"You're welcome, Ma'am." The worried, drained look on her face was all that prevented the young man from commenting on her precipitous arrival, and almost disastrous departure.

Janet slumped wearily against the hard metallic interior of the ambulance. She really couldn't remember a more trying time at the SGC. Okay, there *was* that black hole thing, and that device that pinned Colonel O'Neill to the wall of the Gate room, and, Janet, what about Machello's little nightmares? Oh, and by all means, don't leave out the caveman syndrome. So, maybe life at the SGC could be considered living on the edge. There *were* calm moments, like saving Cassandra. She smiled at the memory, then frowned briefly, recalling the nightmare moments before the 'they lived happily ever after' part. Okay, what made this mess different... oh, right. No off-world menace, if you didn't count the capsules. That's what made this so horrific. For once, the enemy was native to their world, Janet thought angrily. 'What's that saying? Oh, yeah, we have met the enemy and he is us. Damn!'

**********

The cell door swung slowly open while Sam waited, holding her breath as she watched it drag slowly across the uneven floor. Pressing herself as hard as she could against the wall, she concentrated on two things - making herself as small as possible, and knocking the ever-living crap out of whoever was entering her prison. To her absolute disgust, no one came through the door. Instead, a deep male voice sighed. "Really, Major Carter. Don't you think you're being a bit melodramatic. The behind the door assault only works in the movies. Please do come out where we can see you. I'd prefer not to have to force you into compliance." The menace behind the words was obvious. Sam gave a low groan indicative of a temporary setback, and moved away from the door. Four very large guards quickly entered the room, positioning themselves warily around her. The older man, with the gray hair, smiled. "Thank you, my dear. And do be aware, though I would prefer not to have to order the action, these men will subdue you if *necessary*, by whatever means *necessary*."

"I'll try to keep that in mind." Sam spoke through clinched teeth.

"That's all I ask. All of your guards are well versed in the martial arts, and all have been briefed on what to expect from you."

"Terrific."

"Now, if you'll accompany me, I'm to move you to better quarters. The penthouse to be exact."

"It's still a prison." Sam muttered quietly.

"Excuse me?"

"I said why the change in prisons?"

"My employer feels that you, and your baby, should be sheltered and protected here, and that it's extremely important for your baby to develop in the correct environment."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?"

"You should be, my dear, our other guests have not faired quite so well."

Sam couldn't quite contain her gasp of dismay. "Guests, what other guests?"

"Oh, a couple of your co-workers have also agreed to join us here. I'm afraid, however, that their accommodations are not nearly as comfortable."

"I don't believe you."

Cold eyes locked with hers. "Pity." Seizing her by her arm, he dragged the reluctant woman to a nearby cell, pulled open the peephole and motioned for Sam to take a look. Casting a dirty look at her captor, Sam forced herself to peer into the gloom of the cell. She bit back a cry of dismay as she saw the obviously frightened form of Naomi Ramirez huddled on a cot. The peephole slammed shut, barely missing her nose, and the man's voice continued. "She's not our only guest. Your best behavior means they get to eat. Anything else will mean their deaths."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 14

'Ouch. What the... My head really hurts. Lying down? Right. Eyes do *not* want to open. What's that noi... Oh. The infirmary. Shit. What happened ... Oh. Oh, God. Got ... to ... get ... up! What's wrong? Can't ... feel ... legs'

"Maggie, get Dr. Frasier. He's coming round."

"W't?"

"Easy, don't try to talk, sir."

"G't to kn'"

"Sir, please, you have a mild concussion, and Dr. Frasier had to remove some metal fragments. No major damage. You were very lucky."

"L'gs?"

"Still numb are they? You've got stitches in your right thigh, and left calf. Here," she held a spoon to his mouth, "try some of our world famous ice chips. Guaranteed to get the frog out of your throat. Well, almost."

"Thanks."

She smiled. "You're welcome. Now rest. Dr. Frasier will be here as soon as she can." Turning to leave, the young woman found her arm imprisoned in an iron grasp.

"Others? What happened to the others?"

Janet Frasier appeared from out of nowhere. "No one dead or even critical." She smiled as his face relaxed. "Two of Maybourne's men were the worst injured. They'll be confined here for several days, yet. *He* was safely behind them when the bazooka took out the car."

"Wh..."

"My turn. How many fingers?"

Squinting slightly he took a shot. "Three."

"Headache?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm. Honest for once. Odd. But acceptable."

"Wh..."

"Blood pressure's slightly elevated. So's your temperature. But that's to be expected. When the local anesthetic wears off, we'll see about releasing you."

"I need..."

"To stay flat on your back for a while."

"Look..."

Her temper flared. "No, *you* look, I haven't had enough sleep. I've got more patients in the infirmary at one time than I normally see in a week. This is *my* infirmary, and *you* will stay here, quietly, until I am ready to release you."

***********

Pink. The whole damn room was ... pink. At least it was a decent shade, not that hot color. Sam shuddered at the thought of the deep fluorescent pink she'd seen in the mall; she'd gotten vaguely nauseous when she'd seen it. Hmph. At least she understood *that* now.

The room was opulently furnished, looking more like a royal suite than a prison. Everything was done on a grand scale. From the king-size bed to the armoire, the furnishings were all oversized. And on the far wall was the largest media center she'd ever seen, along with a very annoying surveillance camera. The compact disc player was attached to wide variety of speakers and as for the television ...

Sam glared in frustration at the large projection television set. The shelves behind her contained an extensive selection of CD's and videotapes, but no access to any external channels. She'd run through all the channels, twice, and no signal was forthcoming. Dammit. She didn't *think* she'd been out long, but had no way to know for sure. She had enough medical knowledge to know that IV's could have sustained her for days. Hell, weeks, without her knowledge. Would anyone even know she was missing? Don't be stupid, Sam. Of course they'll know. And with Naomi Ramirez and at least one other unknown woman being held prisoner, the odds increased that a search was underway. She really wished she knew who the other prisoner was and where she was. Helplessness was not a familiar sensation for the Major, and her anger at her predicament rose with each passing moment.

Visions of the dying young airman on the road, interspersed with the equally young airman in the cell below her, were looping through her mind, refusing to be purged. Angrily, she tossed an oversized pillow at the shelves, miraculously dislodging only one tape. Sighing in frustration, she reached down and picked it up. 'The Mummy'. Modern version. Her thoughts turned to SG-1's own resident archaeologist, Daniel. He'd still been unconscious when the false message about her brother had arrived, and she was certain it was a false message. Thank God for small favors. But Daniel, he could be dead, or permanently brain-damaged for all she knew. And she was ... stuck, in this ... room, unable thus far to think of any way out of her predicament without risking the other women. And to make things even worse, there was just so much ... pink.

***********

George Hammond walked into the infirmary, and stood for a moment staring at the relative chaos, trying to locate SG-1. To add to the activity caused by the assault on the road, SG-8 had returned from off-world with rather severe cases of diarrhea. Initial testing had revealed an Earth-born, not alien, virus, and the team had been firmly pushed to the farthest corner of the infirmary to recover, well-away from those injured in the blast. Finally spotting his number one team, he made his way over to them.

Daniel sat quietly in a chair, a variety of scrapes, and bruises evident on his pale skin, and a rather large bandage dominating his forehead. Teal'c was nearby, also looking unusually peaked, but, recovering nicely thanks to Junior. O'Neill was looking much better than the last time Hammond had seen him, except for the anger in his eyes. Hammond cleared his throat to announce his arrival, but motioned the three men to remain where they were. "Colonel, how are you feeling?"

"Trapped. Sir, I can't just lie here, knowing Carter is a prisoner..."

"Can and will, Colonel, until Dr. Frasier deems you fit. Clear."

The crossed arms spoke volumes, but for once the mouth replied only, "Yes, sir."

Hammond nodded. "Well, as we suspected, Major Carter's brother and his wife are fine. No automobile accident. And before you ask, Colonel, the inquiries were discreet."

"That's all well and good, General, but it doesn't put us any closer to finding out who's responsible for all this. Or for that matter, to finding Carter and the other women. Sir, I really need to get out of here."

"Excuse me, sir, but I need to check on the Colonel." Janet Frasier slipped easily around the larger man to O'Neill's bedside. "Legs feeling okay, Colonel?"

"Yes."

"Hmmm. That's better."

"What?" Jack eyed her with confusion.

"This time you're lying about the pain. Here," she tossed a bottle of pills, "these will help control the pain, *and* they're real. I tested them myself. I would ask that you try *not* to pull out the stitches. I really hate it when my best work gets damaged."

Jack was already up, and searching for his pants, when Maybourne walked up, looking for all the world like the cat that ate the proverbial canary. "Trying to start a new style, O'Neill?"

Hammond interrupted before Jack could respond. "Inappropriate Colonel, considering your own people were badly injured."

"Sorry, sir." Somehow, his voice didn't sound very contrite.

"What do you want, Maybourne?" Jack pulled his pants over his hips, wincing as the motion sent waves of pain through his legs.

"I've found the connection between the women who are pregnant."

"Don't keep us in suspense, Maybourne, spill it."

"Patience, O'Neill, patience."

"His patience is not what you should worry about, *Colonel*." Hammond was also growing angry, Daniel was openly glaring, and even Teal'c was looking perturbed.

"Yes, sir. As you're aware, General, random complete physicals are done off site, away from SGC."

"I assume you're also aware that two of the women, Major Carter included, deny having had any sexual encounters, uh, recently enough to have caused their condition."

"I realize that, Colonel, what's your point?"

"Well, sir, I'm not a fan of the immaculate conception theory."

"Colonel..."

"Yes, sir. All of the pregnant women had their last complete physical off site."

"You're suggesting that the pregnancies were *not* a result of a natural process. That they were impregnated then?"

"Yes, sir, *and* Major Carter was *not* selected at random."

"What makes you think that?"

"Not think, General, know. The selection program's been altered. Major Carter's last annual physical was five months ago. She should not have been chosen for a random physical in less than six months from that date."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 15

"And, before you say anything, O'Neill, my staff is already in the process of questioning the programming team." Maybourne's face revealed his pleasure at being one up on the other Colonel.

"Oh, I bet *they're* enjoying *that*." The scorn was evident in Jack's voice.

"W..Why do you think it's one of the programmers?"

"Because the program was changed, Dr. Jackson, although I suppose your degree in archaeology does mean you wouldn't know about things like that."

"Actually, I use the computer quite a bit, for research, not that *you'd* know about that, Maybourne. And there're a great many ways to handle selection criteria. Input parameters are quite common, and quite useful. Doesn't necessarily mean the program was changed."

"Input..." The Colonel's voice faded away.

"Input parameters. You know, things like numbers, sex, age ranges, date ranges... That sort of thing."

"But, but..."

Janet spoke up. "Daniel's right, Colonel. Just about anyone with access to the medical system at SGC could have changed the selection criteria at any time."

Jack fastened his belt, and glanced at a dumbfounded Maybourne. "Gee, tough luck, Maybourne. Guess that means you don't know as much as you thought, huh?"

*************

"Jackson survived *another* attempt?" There was a touch of awe in the furious voice of Hans Reicher. "The man really does have nine lives. ... Oh, *that* explains it. I told you the idiot would fail. ... Have you... Very good. And the body? Excellent. When can I expect to hear of success with Jackson. ... Outstanding. Pity I didn't think to employ you to start with." Sighing with satisfaction, Reicher disconnected, and leaned back in his chair. He clicked on the security videos, and panned until he found Samantha Carter, smiling as he watched her pace the confines of her quarters. A knock on the door brought a slight frown, then a shrug. "Come."

Howard moved quietly into the room and came to stand beside Reicher. The older man's eyes had never left the camera's view of his prisoner. "Ah, Dr. Howard, Samantha Carter is even more beautiful in person than her dossier photograph, do you not agree?"

"Yes. You sent for me ... sir."

The momentary hesitation was not lost on Reicher. "Mr. Stewart tells me that you were disappointed in the results of the last retrieval."

"Indeed, the mother had not had enough trips through the Stargate to warrant the retrieval. Although, I suppose one off-world experience is better than none."

"What about *her*?" Reicher nodded at the television screen.

"Ahh, she's an ideal candidate for retrieval or would be if you didn't have other plans for her. She's actually been through the gate three times since conception."

"She's less than four weeks along. Why so many trips?"

Howard didn't need to check his notes. "One was a trip to take medical supplies to PX7R39, the second was an aborted trip to a PQ6898, the heat was too much for the team, and the last was ..."

Reicher motioned impatiently for silence. "Dr. Howard, I do hope you remember my plans for this baby."

"Of course. The child will be the product of two Goa'uld parents. You're certain that the woman's genetic make-up is sufficient to produce such a child."

"She was host to Jolinar for several days, long enough to leave the protein marker in her system. I do not believe length of exposure to be important. Once the bond between host and symbiont is formed enough to leave the protein marker, the genetic changes are also made."

"You're certain that the Goa'uld father's genes alone will not produce the characteristics you're seeking?"

"Relatively. But I don't believe in taking chances. That's why you were asked to inseminate more than just Major Carter."

"I understand. But I must ask. Do you still believe that the translation of that text of Jackson's means immortality?"

"Of course. I assume you still disagree."

"Of course."

"Then we shall have to agree to disagree. Just make certain nothing interferes with *my* plans."

"You are paying the bills. May I return to the lab now?"

Reicher nodded and watched as the man closed the door as he left the room. Rising, the elderly geneticist turned to his computer, and pulled up the text in question. Reading the scanned image once more, he shook his head, unable to fathom how the normally brilliant Howard could be so badly off target. The passage plainly referred to the life span of the Goa'uld. It could only mean one thing and that was immortality. Howard was a fool to believe otherwise.

**********

Maybourne left the infirmary much less self-satisfied than when he'd arrived. Hammond shook his head in disgust and had turned to leave when Jack hit him with every argument in the book for SG-1 checking the off-site clinic in person. Hammond waited patiently through the impassioned pleas, then quickly gave his consent. Too quickly as far as Jack was concerned. The Colonel suddenly realized that he'd wasted a perfectly good grovel, dammit, Hammond would have said yes, regardless of the validity of the arguments.

Daniel trailed behind Jack and Teal'c as they left building, heading for Jack's jeep. It didn't take long for O'Neill to realize that Daniel was much too quiet. Teal'c also noticed, and almost as one the pair turned to face the younger man. For his part, Daniel was forced to stop abruptly to avoid a collision. "What?"

"A penny for them."

Confusion reigned on the younger man's face. "What?"

"Your thoughts, Daniel, and don't try to deny that your mind has been running rampant. I, uh, we recognize the symptoms."

Daniel grinned, then sobered quickly. "Why Sam?"

"Apparently because she was pregnant."

"No, I mean *why* is she pregnant?"

"Daniel Jackson, I believe the correct explanation is the fertilization of a human egg, with a human sperm."

"Ya think?"

Daniel shook his head. "No, Teal'c, I meant why would anyone choose her? It's obvious, even to Maybourne, that Sam being chosen was deliberate. What sets her apart?"

"Other than the fact that she's super intelligent, brave, sorta pretty, uh, in a military sort of way, and she goes through the Stargate a lot?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing that I can think of."

"I can."

"Dammit, Daniel. *What*?"

"She was host to Jolinar."

"Daniel, have you noticed a tendency to put that Goa'uld..."

"Tok'ra. Jolinar was Tok'ra."

"Whatever. Goa'uld, Tok'ra, Snake... same difference. As I was saying, every time something strange happens, Sam's former roommate gets brought up."

"Well, it is a difference, this time, for sure."

"So?"

"Well, I was just thinking..."

Jack gave an exasperated sigh. "We *know* that, Daniel, but what about?"

"Sha'uri told me that..."

"Geez, Daniel, not that Har, har..."

"Harcisus."

"Right. Not *that* again. You know we'll look for the kid, but..."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. Sam is for all intents and purposes a Goa'uld mother."

"Excuse me?"

"She's got the protein marker of the Goa'uld. Marchello's little n..nightmares knew she was a former host, so they abandoned her while they stayed in Janet, you and m...me."

Jack didn't fail to notice the stammer in Daniel's speech. "I know I'm gonna hate myself, but so?"

Daniel took a deep breath. "What if they've got a Goa'uld father?"

"You mean another Goa'uld on Earth? Like Seth?"

"Well, maybe, but we've played host to injured Goa'ulds before, Apophis, Cronus. The doctors did lots of tests, collected lots of samples. Are any of us certain that we know *all* the samples that were taken?"

"Dr. Frasier would not deliberately do anything to harm Samantha Carter." Teal'c's replied firmly.

"No, No. Not Janet. But someone on her staff. Someone who could get the samples out of the SGC. Mess with the selection program, *and*," Daniel paused for a moment, "notify their employer when one of the women turned up pregnant. Doesn't it strike you odd that Sam was taken so quickly after the test results came in?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 16

Jack's face grew grim. "You're telling me that Carter's baby could be one of these Harcisus kids?"

"*If* the father's a Goa'uld, yes."

"And that's why she was kidnapped?"

"Most probably, yes."

"What about the other women?"

"I have no idea. Teal'c, didn't you say you'd never known a Goa'uld host to father a human child?"

"That is most correct, Daniel Jackson."

"Then maybe some of the Goa'uld genetic links are passed on even to a non-Goa'uld mother."

"Sweet." Jack started walking toward his Jeep again. "Well, Maybourne is working on finding the leak at SGC, and *I* want to talk to the people who did the actual physicals. If Maybourne's right, they're the ones who actually hurt these women."

"The women are not injured, O'Neill, merely pregnant."

Daniel shook his head. "No, Teal'c. I don't know how the others feel, but for the women who were impregnated by artificial insemination, somehow without their knowledge, the mere act could be considered a form of rape."

*********

Samantha Carter lay on the king-sized bed and pretended *not* to see the surveillance camera. She was disturbed by its presence, but had to concede that, as a prisoner, she could expect to be monitored. So what *exactly* was it that bothered her about the camera. The unknown person manning it? No. She really could care less about some nameless, faceless, probably brainless lackey doing a job. Then what? Exasperated she focused her vision on the video she'd absently stuffed into the VCR. How fitting, she'd picked 'Pretty in Pink'. Shit. At least it went with the room. Angrily she grabbed for the remote control and tried to click the VCR off. Nothing. Irritated beyond words, she jumped off the bed and moved to the media wall. The VCR was crooked, so the infrared signal wouldn't work. As she reached to straighten it, she caught the camera out of the corner of her eye, and knew. *This* camera was a fake. From its position in the room, she could not be seen standing next to the media wall. That meant another monitoring device, and the logical location was in the huge TV screen in front of her. And *that* might mean more of a load on the circuitry behind the media center than she'd originally thought. Cataloging that bit of information, she quickly pulled another video at random from the shelves and inserted it into the VCR.

************

Teal'c rode shotgun as Jack maneuvered the twists and turns of the Cheyenne Mountain complex roads. Daniel sat in the middle of the back seat, leaning so far forward that he might as well have been in the front, talking into Jack's car phone at ninety-nine miles a minute. "Janet, ..., what? I can't ..." Daniel disconnected and redialed. "Darn mountains. Reception is so ... Yes, I was talking to Dr. Frasier. Thanks ... Don't go dead, don't go dead. ..."

"Daniel, sit back. If I have to brake..."

"Janet? We got cut off. About those specimens. ... Yes, I realize that's need to know. ... Janet, would you listen? ... I, we, *Colonel O'Neill* needs to know. ... No, he's driving down the mountain. ... Yes, I know he's not ... Okay, I'll tell him. ... Yes, I did say *sperm* samples. ... Janet?"

"Daniel Jackson, does leaning into the front seat improve reception?" Teal'c steadied the young man as the Jeep took a steep turn.

Daniel punched the connection again. "Apparently *not*. ... Yes, Dr. ... Oh, thanks. ... Janet? ... From Apophis or maybe Cronus? ... *They were?!* Apophis! Are they still there? ... Damn it! I'm not getting a signal now!"

"Daniel, we're getting close to Rollover Grade."

"This won't take a minute, provided I can stay connected to the mountain for more than thirty seconds."

"Daniel."

"GAD! We can travel light-years across the galaxy but can't make a cell-phone work in the mountains?"

"*Daniel*."

"*What*?"

"Two things. One, we didn't build the Stargate, and two, *sit back*. Shit!" Jack slammed on the brakes and struggled to control the Jeep as he spotted six deer crossing the road up ahead.

Daniel flew toward the dash, saved only by Teal'c's quick reflexes. "Janet? ... Different? How? ... YES! ... Yes, tell Maybourne, for all the good it'll do." He disconnected the phone, and pushed himself back into the rear seat, never breaking his verbal stride. "They *did* get sperm from Apophis, and Janet says its missing, but she doesn't know how long its been gone, but I'm betting that ... Why are we slowing down?"

Jack brought the Jeep to a stop on the side of the road, overlooking a large ravine. Turning in his seat, he gave his young friend a dirty look. "Daniel, did you happen to notice that you almost hit the dash just then?"

"I did?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Now, I appreciate the information, and I'm sure it'll come in handy at some point. But we still have miles to go on *this* road to get to town so let me tell you what's gonna happen. You will slide behind me, you will fasten your seatbelt, *and* you will do this before we go any farther."

Daniel winced at being on the receiving end of what he thought of as Jack's 'Colonel Voice'. Recognizing the futility, as well as the stupidity of arguing with his friend, Daniel, for once, did as he was told. As Jack pulled the Jeep back onto the road, the young archaeologist commented softly. "Janet says you're not supposed to be driving."

"Ya think?"

**************



"Dr. Frasier?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Simmons?"

"Ma'am, we've found something *odd* about the fake antihistamine that Dr. Jackson was given."

"What?"

"It's really unique, Ma'am. The alien chemicals are *not* poisonous like we thought at first. Instead they're an enhancer of some sort. By themselves they don't appear to do anything. But if you mix them with the arsenic, well, it's a whole different ball game. It's amazing, actually."

Janet sighed in frustration. "Simmons, I'm really very tired. What are you talking about?"

"Just that three, maybe four doses of those capsules, and Dr. Jackson would have had as much arsenic in his system as if he'd been ingesting it in small quantities for months."

"But nothing showed up in his blood tests."

"Near as I can tell, the initial dose is designed to set up for the remaining doses. Enough of it stays in the bloodstream to trigger the reaction. It's fascinating to watch the chemical reaction, but I wouldn't want to be the recipient."

"So after just a few doses, he'd have enough to kill him."

"Yes, Ma'am, but even if we'd done an autopsy, we probably wouldn't have tested for arsenic. Dr. Frasier, if Dr. Jackson hadn't been allergic to arsenic, he'd probably have been dead in forty-eight hours."

**************

Jack turned into the reserved parking lot at the Air Force Academy Hospital. All off-site physicals had been done there, and the Colonel realized, in an academic environment, security was probably not as stringent. But hell, these were supposed to be just physicals, no national secrets involved there. He climbed from behind the wheel, gasping slightly as the stitches in his legs pulled, reminding him not to overdo. Teal'c was already standing beside the Jeep, carefully eyeing his surroundings. Daniel slipped easily from the back seat and gave Jack a quick once over.

"Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack?"

"I'm *fine*. Stop watching me."

"Oh. Okay. Where's the office we're supposed to go to?"

Jack stopped a young cadet. "Cadet."

Incredibly young eyes widened at the sight of the Colonel. Pulling himself to attention and throwing a perfect salute, the youngster responded with an enthusiastic, "SIR!"

Jack returned the salute. "Where would I find Dr. Alfred Howard?"

"Third floor of the science building, sir! It's right behind the fountain."

"Thank you, Cadet. As you were." Jack saluted the boy.

"Sir!" The young man enthusiastically returned the salute then continued on his way.

The Colonel sighed, thinking 'Was I *ever* that young?' Turning to Daniel, he muttered, "Well, let's see what the good doctor can tell us about the physicals." Stepping up onto the curb, Jack's right leg buckled, sending him tumbling toward the pavement. "*Ouch!*"

"Jack!" Daniel lunged forward, grabbing onto his friend's arm in an attempt to prevent a fall. Teal'c's large form rounded the front of the car, also intent on helping his friend.

To the astonishment of the Jaffa, Daniel failed miserably in his effort to keep Jack off the ground. Instead, the young scientist cried out, grasping his upper arm, and continuing on to the ground himself. Twisting frantically, Daniel managed to keep from landing on Jack, sitting beside him instead.

"What the... Daniel?" Jack's concerned voice broke through the haze in the younger man's thoughts as Teal'c's equally concerned form put both men in a shadow.

Daniel smiled wanly, clutching his upper arm. Jack's eyes widened as he saw blood oozing through his friend's fingers. Shaking his head, Daniel responded to the concern in Jack's eyes. "Flesh wound, only a graze. Jack, what the heck is going on?"

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 17

The few cadets crossing the grounds near the parking lot froze where they stood as the initial shot rang out. O'Neill's first thoughts for the safety of his team expanded quickly to take in the unseasoned youngsters around him.

"Sniper! Take cover!" The Colonel's command unglued young feet from the grass, sending cadets scurrying for safety. Jack's shout coincided with Teal'c reaching down and pulling both men to their feet. Keeping a firm hand on both of his friends, the Jaffa steered them behind the Jeep. Refuge was reached none too soon, as yet another shot dinged the paint on Jack's vehicle. "Now wait just one damn minute!" A furious Colonel O'Neill pushed away from the Jeep, only to be dragged back into reality by Teal'c's firm hand.

"Colonel O'Neill, I do not believe this to be a well thought out plan."

"That's 'not a good idea', Teal'c, but he's right, Jack."

"Ya think?" Jack grumbled as he sank back to the ground next to his friends, stretching his aching legs out in front of him. "Did anyone see where the shots are coming from?"

"The building behind the fountain." Teal'c replied calmly.

"The *science* building?" Daniel and Jack yelped simultaneously.

"If that is the building behind the fountain, then yes, the shots appear to be coming from there."

Sirens in the distance coincided with shouts as military police units arrived on the scene. SG-1 remained where they were while the units worked to secure the situation. Rapidly approaching footsteps caused Jack to reach quickly for a non-existent firearm. The young cadet who'd pointed the way to the science building dropped down beside the trio. Shakily saluting Jack, he began to stammer an apology. "I..I'm sorry, s..sir."

Confused, Jack smiled a hopefully reassuring smile. "About what, son?"

"I forgot. Dr. Howard's not here. I..I turned around to tell you, then I..I saw the r..rifle. It happened so fast, I didn't have time to warn you. I'm sorry, sir."

Jack knew from experience that meaningless reassuring platitudes wouldn't help the boy. "What's your name, Cadet?"

"Cadet Bruce Harper, sir."

"Well, Cadet, my friend's been hit, can you get to the first aid kit under the seat?"

"Jack I'm f..."

"It's okay, Daniel, Cadet Harper will have those bandages to you in a minute." The Colonel winked at his young friend who promptly ducked his head to hide a grin.

The boy quickly retrieved the first aid kit, and proceeded to do an admirable job of patching Daniel's arm.

"Thank you, Cadet Harper."

"You're welcome, sir, but sir, you probably ought to get a shot... or something for that. I think."

Daniel smiled at the young man as Jack interjected. "We'll take care of that later. Now what were you saying about Dr. Howard?" Jack noticed that the MP's were announcing an 'all clear' even as he spoke.

The young cadet responded quickly. "Well, sir, Dr. Howard's on sabbatical. Won't be back for six months."

***********

The door to Sam's 'room' opened suddenly, revealing the older man from earlier, and a younger man with a tray. Delicious aromas wafted their way toward the Major, who only just now realized that she was very, very hungry. She stood silently and watched as the young man placed the tray on the desk. "There you go, Major Carter. Dinner is served."

"And your point is?"

The older man frowned. "Really, Major, Mr. Stewart fixed your tray himself. And I'm sure you'll find the food delicious, Mr. ..." He blanched slightly as his near slip. "Ahem. ... The chef is outstanding. And I can guarantee that your meal is well-balanced."

"Special. Don't want it."

"My dear girl, surely you..."

"I'm not hungry." Sam declared angrily, even as her rumbling stomach betrayed her.

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." The anonymous older man smiled a rather unpleasant smile. "But I must warn you, my dear, that my employer has plans for this child, and that I will force nutrients into your body if necessary."

"Wouldn't that be too stressful?" Sam retorted, remembering why she'd been relocated to the pleasure palace.

He shrugged. "Less so than starvation. Now I suggest you eat."

"I know you, don't I?" Vague images raced through her mind, like an out-of-sync music video.

"You surprise me, my dear, I brought you out of the cellar earlier."

Thinking quickly Sam responded. "Leaving the other two women prisoners down there."

"Yes, well, they are..."

"But I know you from somewhere else." Sam was basically faking, hoping to distract the man from noticing he'd just revealed the location of the other prisoner. Besides, he really did look familiar.

He laughed nervously. "I don't think so, my dear, but I do have *that* kind of face." He nodded at the tray. "Eat. Stewart will be back in thirty minutes to retrieve the tray. And don't get any ideas about the utensils. He'll be looking to retrieve those too."

The door shut behind the men with an annoying click. The tone told her the lock was electric. 'Okay, that's one more load on the circuitry.' She glanced around, carefully examining the structure of the room. Underneath the new *pink*, she shuddered involuntarily, paint, the drywall was apparently old. Several poorly patched cracks had reasserted themselves near the ceiling, and an off-white patch on the ceiling itself told the story of an old leak. Sinking down into the lavish desk chair, Sam absently removed the cover from the food. Staring at the boarded up window, she realized that she could see a faint outline of sunshine through the topmost boards. 'Old house, poor paint job, really bad ceiling repair, poor carpentry. Sounds like a tight-wad managed the repairs. So maybe, just maybe there's shoddy work on the electrical, too?' She really hoped so, it would make her escape all the easier. The smell attracted her attention, and she finally deemed to notice what was on her plate. Carrots, broccoli, slightly green tomatoes, new potatoes, and baked chicken invited her to dig in. She considered momentarily refusing to yield, then changed her mind. If she did manage to plunge the house into darkness, and get the door open, she'd wouldn't want her growling stomach to give her away. Not to mention, she needed to keep up her strength. Not to mention, it smelled *damned* good.

Sighing in resignation, she slid the fork into the broccoli, and froze. Green. Dammit, the man had been wearing green when she saw him last. Even his mask had been green, but his eyes she'd always remember, even as she barely remembered anything about *that* physical. She'd thought it odd that she'd been called in for one of the dreaded random check-ups so soon after her regularly scheduled one. But ingrained obedience had overruled her innate caution, and she'd reported to the Air Force Academy Hospital as ordered. She'd never even thought about it afterwards, but the whole exam had been a blur. Damn them to hell! The time frame was about right. She'd known she hadn't had the pleasure of becoming pregnant naturally but had been too preoccupied to think of *that*. Artificial insemination. Those sorry SOB's would pay dearly for that. And the white-haired person that just left the room had at least been there. As she viciously attacked a defenseless carrot, she contemplated vengeance, her smile growing larger with each passing moment.

************

"No, really, thank you, it's fine. Just a scratch. There's no need..." Daniel's voice trailed off as the career military nurse, holding a large needle, stared unblinkingly at him.

"I don't have all day, *Doctor* Jackson." The emphasis on 'doctor' caused Daniel to wince.

"Yeah, Danny-boy, don't keep the lady waiting." Jack's amused voice came from outside the curtain.

Daniel glared at the curtain for a moment, then at the woman, who stood impatiently tapping her foot. Sighing in defeat, he unfastened his belt, unzipped the zipper, and allowed his pants to slide to his knees. Irritated beyond words, he leaned forward on the gurney, and gasped slightly as the needle found a home. The gasp turned into a strangled yelp as she swatted the exposed area ... hard.

Whirling, he yanked his pants up. "What the..."

"Next time, *Doctor*, obey the instructions in a more timely fashion." Throwing the curtain aside, she stalked out, barely acknowledging the Colonel as she did so.

The bemused Colonel looked at his friend's face. "Uh, Daniel, what just hap..."

A beet-red Daniel Jackson responded quickly. "Absolutely nothing, Jack, absolutely nothing."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 18

"I know I'm gonna regret saying this, but I hope Maybourne had better luck than we did." Jack leaned back in the passenger seat as Daniel cranked up the Jeep. He'd been reluctant to turn control of his prize possession over to the younger man, until Teal'c announced *his* intention to drive if Daniel Jackson was not allowed to. With the Jaffa safely stowed behind Daniel, Jack sighed, and pushed his seat all the way back, allowing his aching legs to stretch out as much as possible.

"I don't see how." Daniel's voice contained more than a hint of pessimism.

"Daniel, you're not usually so pessimistic." Jack eyed his young friend with surprise.

The younger man huffed out an irritated breath. "Sorry, Jack. Maybourne just gets on my nerves. He's so, so, so..."

"Stupid?"

"Yes, no, yes. Dammit, Jack!"

Jack watched the tension build in Daniel's face as he spoke. "Okay, Daniel. Spill it. What's the problem?"

"Just the history. I mean he's pretty much screwed up everything he's done with the SGC."

"I admit that Colonel Maybourne has usually managed to conduct himself in a way that I resent. Hell, he annoys the hell out of me. But as much as I hate to admit it, Daniel, from the standpoint of his command at Area 51, he's just doing his job."

The Jeep swerved slightly into the other lane, before Daniel could get it back under control, his knuckles white with tension as they locked around the wheel.

"Park it." Jack's eyes never left Daniel's face.

"I'm fine..."

"Do it, Jackson!" There was no room for debate in Jack's voice.

Daniel dared a quick glance at his friend, and commanding officer. "Jack..."

"*Now!*"

Gulping, Daniel took a deep breath, and steered the Jeep into a nearby parking lot on the outskirts of town. Throwing the gear shift into park, Daniel leaped out of the vehicle, followed by Jack. The older man motioned Teal'c to stay where he was. Positioning himself in front of the now pacing Daniel, Jack asked, "What's going on, Daniel?"

"N..Nothing. I'm sorry. I'll give M..Maybourne the benefit of the doubt. Okay?"

"Not good enough, Daniel. You've been unusually obnoxious to the man since he arrived. *He* probably hasn't noticed, but I have. I should have said something earlier, but we've been a little busy. Spill it."

"Jack, I'd really rather..."

"*Not* an option, Daniel."

The younger man turned his back on his friend. Jack said nothing until he noticed the slight tremble in Daniel's shoulders. Reaching forward he forced Daniel back around to face him. "Tell me, Daniel."

"A..After Shau'ri d..died, he...he contacted me, at home."

"*What!* What did he want?" Jack's face was grim.

Daniel's voice was a mere whisper. "Shau'ri."

"*What!*"

"He wanted her b..body. T..To study."

"That little..." Visions of Maybourne dying a slow death at his hands ran through Jack's head. "What did you say?"

"N..Nothing. N..not even 'go to hell'. I just hung up."

**********

The nurse knocked on the office door, then hesitated. Hearing nothing from inside, she quietly eased the door open and looked regretfully at the figure on the couch. "Dr. Fraiser? Ma'am?"

"Hmmmm?" The tired voice made the young nurse wince. "W..What?"

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but you wanted to be awakened when Doctor Jackson got back to the base."

"He's here?" Janet sat up, yawning, and rubbing her overtired eyes.

"No, Ma'am. The main drive-through gate just reported them passing. The guard at the sign-in will give him the message. He should be along in a few minutes."

Sighing, Janet pushed off the sofa and rose unsteadily to her feet. "Great."

"Ma'am are you sure you don't want Dr. Michaels to do this?"

"No. He hasn't had any more sleep than I have, and since I'm awake, I'll just handle it."

As the doctor stumbled tiredly into the infirmary, the young nurse shook her head, biting her tongue to keep from commenting on 'stubborn, hard-headed doctors'.

**********

The remainder of the trip to the mountain proved uneventful. Quiet, but uneventful. Dark too. The new moon allowed the Milky Way to be seen in all its glory, but the occupants of the Jeep were not watching the sky. Daniel kept his eyes unwaveringly on the road. Jack alternated between watching the road, and casting worried glances at the young scientist. Teal'c retained his air of outward calm as he watched his friends, inwardly wondering what had transpired between his friends. The situation, as far as the Jaffa was concerned, was intolerable. Samantha Carter was missing; two, possibly three attempts had been made on his young friend's life, and Colonel O'Neill had himself been injured in the Bazooka attack that Teal'c strongly suspected had been aimed at Daniel Jackson. Resolving to remain as close as possible to the youngest member of the team, Teal'c returned his attention to his present surroundings. To his surprise, they'd already arrived back at the SGC.

**********

As Daniel carefully parked Jack's Jeep between two almost identical Saturns, Jack was pleased to see that the tension had apparently faded to at least tolerable levels. As SG-1 approached the main entrance, the sentries on guard saluted briskly. Jack took the pen and signed in, then passed off to Daniel. As Daniel touched pen to paper, one of the sentries addressed him. "Dr. Jackson, sir, Dr. Fraiser asked that you report to the infirmary when you checked back in."

Handing the pen to Teal'c, he looked up, confused, at the Airman. "Did she say why?"

"No, sir. Just that you were to go straight to the infirmary, sir."

"Thank you, Airman."

Daniel glanced at his friends as they headed for the elevator. "That's odd. Wonder what she wants?"

"I'll go with you." Jack offered.

"Great, Janet can check those stitches that you wouldn't tell the hospital staff about. See if you pulled any out."

Jack's finger paused momentarily on the elevator buttons. "Oh, darn. I need to check in with General Hammond."

"So, you won't be coming with me?" Daniel barely managed to suppress his grin.

"I will accompany you, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c's deep voice echoed slightly in the elevator.

Jack shook his head. "Sorry, Teal'c, but you're with me. We've gotta report on the sniper, and the missing doctor." 'And,' he continued silently, 'the General needs to know about Maybourne's stunt with Shau'ri.'

The elevator doors slid smoothly open and Daniel exited. "I'll catch up with you in the briefing room, *if* I can get away from Janet."

The doors shut on Jack's "Ya think?"

************

General Hammond sat at his desk staring sourly at the report in front of him. Colonel Maybourne stood leaning casually against the wall, obviously unconcerned about the General's mood. Hammond finally looked up. "You're certain it was *his* body on the firing range."

"Yes, sir. He hadn't been dead long."

Hammond's reply was cut short by a knock on the door. "Come."

The door opened to admit Jack O'Neill and Teal'c. "Sir, I need to ... *Maybourne!* you sorry..." Only Teal'c's quick reaction prevented Jack from decking the other Colonel.

"*Colonel O'Neill!*" Hammond's stern voice quickly grounded O'Neill. "*What* is the meaning of this?"

"My apologies, sir, it's nothing."

"Colonel, I am not accustomed to seeing a high-ranking officer start an assault on another. And don't tell me that Teal'c didn't stop you from pulling a career ending stunt. I *will* know the reason."

Jack choked back an angry reply. He took a deep breath then spoke between clenched teeth. "Daniel told me that *he*," Jack nodded toward Maybourne, "asked him for Shau'ri's body ... for research, right after she died."

A low growl left Teal'c's throat, and Jack suddenly found himself restraining the Jaffa. Hammond turned a steely expression on Maybourne. "Is this true, Colonel?"

"No, sir. It's not."

Jack was incredulous. "You didn't phone Dr. Jackson, asking him for her body?"

"Absolutely not."

Disgust raged in Jack's face. "General, surely you don't believe..."

"Colonel O'Neill," Maybourne snapped, "I'm not saying that I wouldn't have done that. I *am* saying that I didn't do it. I had orders *not* to disturb Dr. Jackson."

Confusion replaced disgust. "What? From whom?"

Maybourne snorted with suppressed laughter. "Jackson's got friends in high places. The President himself ordered the 'hands off'. I don't know who contacted Jackson, but it sure as hell wasn't me."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 19

Daniel walked down the corridors of the SGC mountain complex, mind whirling in confusion. Nothing made sense. Well, that wasn't quite true, *some* of it did. The Harcisus child, for example. He'd never really thought of Carter as having been a Goa'uld. Not really. Oh, he knew that Jolinar had invaded her body and controlled her mind. But even then he'd never thought of her as Goa'uld. Was it because Jolinar had been Tok'ra? He considered the question. No, it was simply because Sam was still Sam. Jolinar had been murdered, and Samantha Carter had been freed. But as a result, her genetic structure had been changed. God, what did that bode for her having *real* children? Shit, what was he thinking? This unborn innocent *was* a real child. It was no fault of the baby's that its parentage was so, so skewed.

No, the creation, however vile, of a Harcisus child was a stroke of genius by someone. But who? Maybourne? The man didn't have a brain in his head, but was even *he* unscrupulous enough to do something like this? Daniel sighed. Force a pregnancy on Sam, maybe, but murder Allison Miller? No, even Maybourne wouldn't go that far. Besides, how would he know? The Harcisus connection had been removed from the official reports surrounding, he gulped, Shau'ri's death. Hammond had insisted that only the facts be submitted, and 'thought transfer' while under the control of a Goa'uld ribbon device did not, in the General's opinion, constitute *facts*. No matter that Daniel felt strongly about the reality of the transfer. And that left ... who?

Daniel rubbed his head in frustration, and rounded another corner. Stopping suddenly, he realized that he'd somehow missed the infirmary. Hell, he'd even passed the corridors that contained the labs. He'd somehow managed to make it all the way back to the archives, or at least that's how he thought of this area of the SGC. It was the area that contained most of the high-tech imaging equipment, where every piece of paper, or papyrus, or even, he grinned, rocks, uh, artifacts with writing or pictures on them were scanned for storage in the SGC's optical disk units. And, he knew, where the ... what were they called, oh yeah ... T3 lines connected the SGC network to the Pentagon, Area 51, and other such classified research facilities. Classified, but very lucky research facilities to be able to get to *this* data. Man, to have had such a vast array of information available to him in the early days, he'd have killed... Oh, shit. Was that it? Daniel moaned, and massaged his aching head. He tried to do a cursory review of at least the summary notes on everything that was scanned into the equipment, knowing full well that he'd never be able to personally inspect everything. He had a staff for that. But, what if they, if he'd missed something? What if something in that *machine* contained proof of his assertion that the Harcisus connection was real? If so ... Oh God, this was *all* his fault.

*************

Sam lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Outside her boarded up window, she could hear the wind picking up, indicating that one heck of a storm was on its way. The early rain was gently beating a calming rhythm on the roof of the building in which she was imprisoned. But the soothing cadence did nothing to calm her spirits. Damn it to hell. She desperately wanted to know who the third prisoner was, and Naomi Ramirez had looked scared to death. Sam didn't blame her, she was scared too. She knew that the SGC, and SG-1 in particular, would leave no stone unturned in their search for her, but did they even have a clue where to look? Without a point of reference, the search would be like trying to dial home without the seventh symbol.

She sighed. Even suspecting that the media center 'might' be overloading its circuitry wouldn't help, if the door locks weren't on the same circuit. She could blow the surveillance capabilities of her captors to her heart's content, and still be trapped in this stupid, pink room. This, in turn, would probably get her fellow prisoners punished, and considering they'd already killed Allison Miller, Sam shuddered to think what would happen to the other two women if she tried. No, she'd have to play it cool for a while longer, and pray she could think of a way to get the other two women to safety.

Her attention was suddenly captured by the sound of the rain outside. The steady rhythm of earlier was gone, replaced by a cacophony of noise. Well, that at least was right, the discordant noise definitely matched her mood.

************

"Again?" There was no trace of anger in Hans Reicher's voice. The elderly geneticist was far too stunned. "How? ... I see. ... Yes, the contract still holds, but ... Excellent. I knew you were a true professional." Reicher disconnected, and turned an astonished face to Alfred Howard, shaking his head he commented softly. "Jackson's still alive."

"How?"

"A fluke, a simple fluke. O'Neill stumbled and Jackson leaned forward to catch him just as my man fired, but I'm told Jackson's arm was grazed. The Jaffa's reaction time is extraordinary ... he pulled both of them to cover before my man could compensate for their motion. Amazing."

"Maybe you should just forget Jackson."

"No! The *only* connection to me is the computer audit trail from the artifact to my research facility. Unfortunately, the security on this project is so high that even audit trails have audit trails. Erasing all trace of the center's access has proven to be difficult, and at best, I've only been guaranteed a ninety-five percent success rate. Jackson's the only one that *might* connect the artifact's information to the current situation. Once he does that, it's only a matter of time until the center's connection is found."

"Excuse me, sir."

Reicher turned to face his chief of security. "What is it Larsen?"

"The basement's beginning to flood. There's at least an inch of water on the floor already. The weather channel says this storm will continue for at least another six hours."

A German oath of intense proportions escaped the old man's lips as Howard gasped in dismay. "My subjects must be kept safe. The research is too important."

Reicher growled angrily. "A little water won't hurt them."

"A little water might result in only a very bad cold, or maybe pneumonia. I've said all along that the basement's too damp even in dry weather. I want them moved." Noting the *look* Reicher was giving him, Howard added quickly, "Please."

"Very well. Larsen, move our other guests to the top floor, green room and blue room ought to do nicely."

"Yes, sir." Larsen threw a hesitant salute to Reicher, then left the room.

Reicher spared Howard a lazy glance. "Well, Doctor, satisfied?"

"Very."

****************

The phone on the desk rang suddenly, interrupting the heated exchange between Maybourne and O'Neill. "Hammond. ... Just a moment." Hammond pushed the speaker button, then replaced the handset. "Go ahead, Doctor. Colonel O'Neill's right here."

"Colonel, I thought Dr. Jackson was on his way to the infirmary. I really need another blood sample. Just to make sure he's okay."

Jack exchanged a concerned look with Teal'c. "He got off the elevator on the infirmary level, Doctor. He should be there now."

"Well, he's not here and there's no one in the halls, I just looked."

"General, request permission ..."

"Granted. Go." Hammond hit the alarm, effectively sealing the base. He quickly disconnected with the doctor and, dialing a well used number, checked with the outside gates. He sighed with relief as he found that Dr. Jackson had not left the facility. Leaving orders that the Doctor be detained if he showed up at the gates, Hammond then connected with his main security team and ordered a full scale search of the SGC. Object of said search being one Doctor Daniel Jackson.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 20

Two hundred seventy-three. This time she'd made it to two hundred seventy-three stipples on the ceiling before she'd lost her place. Holy Hannah, this was ridiculous. She was a Major in the United States Air Force, for Pete's sake. She needed to *do* something. Anything, and no, videos and cd's were not high on her list of things to do right now. Escape, yes. Lounging around, no. So... why was she just lying there, doing absolutely nothing. Sighing in disgust at her unusual lethargy, she swung her feet to the floor and forced herself to stand. Now what? A sudden noise from beyond the door attracted her attention. Knowing she was being watched, Sam forced herself not to look in that direction. After all, x-ray vision did *not* run in the Carter genes, just looking at the door wouldn't help her at all. She walked slowly toward the media wall, all the while concentrating on the sounds outside her door. What *was* that, four, no five different sets of footsteps? And voices?

**************

"W..Where are you taking us?" Naomi Ramirez repeated her plea for information as the small group reached the top of the stairs.

"Not that way. Left." The small thug had a surprisingly deep voice.

"Ohhhh." The young Airman gasped in dismay as she almost lost her balance.

"Careful you jerks, she almost fell down the steps. Ramirez, are you ok?"

"I t..think so, ma'am."

"Well, she just better watch her step." The small thug snarled with displeasure at the rebuke.

"No, *you* had better be careful. I need these women unharmed. That's why they're being moved." Howard's voice contained undisguised anger.

"Any preference on the rooms, Doc?" A tall, heavyset man asked quickly, hoping to diffuse a potentially bad situation.

"No. Just put one in the blue room and the other in the green one."

"Hey! I told you to watch the hands, bub." The angry young woman slapped the small thug. Her actions did not go unpunished as a swift blow to the chin took the young officer to her knees.

Howard lunged forward, seizing the man by the throat. "I *told* you. These women are not to be harmed."

Gasping, unable to completely catch his breath, the other man snarled. "No bitch is gonna slap me and come off without a bruise." His next words were cut off as Howard tightened his grip.

"*This* bitch's life is worth a lot more than *yours*. Understand?"

"Y..ye..ee..ss" The little man's hand rubbed his sore throat as Howard finally released him.

**************

Sam's ear's perked up as she realized that the first speaker had to be Naomi Ramirez, and that it sounded like the other prisoner was with her. *This* was a good thing. The male voice she'd never heard before, but it sounded cruel. Airman Ramirez's gasp of fear almost froze Sam in her tracks as she tried to casually pace the floor of her room. She barely managed to keep up the subterfuge of nervous pacing as she strained to hear the conversation in the hall. The second female voice sent shock waves through her body. Lieutenant Carin Tobolo was not known to be an easy target. Even SG-3's Marines were wary of the feisty officer. How *had* these no goods gotten hold of her? Sam's blood pressure rose dramatically at the sound of one of the women hitting the floor. As ranking officer, these were *her* people. Whoever'd just hit one of them would have hell to pay. The roar in her ears was so loud she barely heard the doors in the hall shut. She forced herself to be calm as she realized with glee that the women had been relocated on the same floor as herself. That would make escape soooo much eas... 'Green room?' 'Blue room?' Gasping, she glanced around at her own pink prison. 'GAD!'

***************

"Is he here, yet?" Jack's worried voice pierced what passed for the quiet of nighttime in the infirmary.

"Shheeessh! Sir." Two nurses and a lab tech shushed the Colonel as he raced into the room.

"Oh. Sorry." He'd forgotten that SG-8 was still recovering from whatever it was they'd contracted. "Has Dr. Jackson..."

"No, Colonel, he never got here. Dr. Fraiser's gone down to Lab 7 if you want to speak with her."

"Thanks, Lieutenant." Jack turned toward the door. "Teal'c, why do... Teal'c?" The Colonel glanced quickly around the infirmary, then moved out into the hall. "Teal'c?" The Jaffa was nowhere to be found. "Great, just great. Now where did *he* go?"

**********

Teal'c followed Jack O'Neill down the hall toward the infirmary. It was no surprise to the Jaffa that the Colonel was as close to running as his injured legs would allow. Teal'c paused at the infirmary door long enough to determine that Daniel Jackson was not there, then moved quickly toward the lab area. Glass walls separated near empty lab units from the main corridor. At this time of night, all should have been dark. It did not require perfect vision to see that one lab was at least partially lit. Moving quietly toward the door, Teal'c studied the petite figure of Janet Fraiser for a moment before moving forward to stand behind her. "Dr. Fraiser."

His slow, steady speech was countered by her startled scream. "Oh, God, Teal'c. I..I didn't hear you come in." Janet struggled to catch her breath as her heart did laps around her chest.

"I have frightened you, Dr. Fraiser?"

"No. Yes, well, sort of. I wasn't expecting you. Have you found Daniel, yet?"

Jack's voice interrupted. "No, no *we* haven't." He glared at the Jaffa, who, as usual, failed to notice. "*Teal'c* and I came down here together. No one saw him on this floor?"

"As in who, Colonel? It's very late. The labs are dark. There's no one here but us dedicated medical personnel trying to make sure errant archaeologists don't relapse or anything."

"Uh, Doc?"

Janet sighed, and ran her hands through her hair. "I'm sorry, Colonel. I'm just concerned about Daniel. How much do you know about the medicine that caused him to collapse?"

"Just that it almost killed him. Isn't that enough?"

"Not really. The substance in the first capsule had trace amounts of arsenic, to which Daniel is fortunately allergic."

"*Fortunately!*"

Janet held up a hand for patience. "The capsule also had some sort of alien enhancer in it. In the course of three or four doses, the effect would have been a build up of arsenic so massive that it would kill him. Even if we'd done an autopsy and happened to find the arsenic, we'd have been looking for a sequence of events that, under normal circumstances, would have begun months ago. But he's allergic to arsenic, so the drug never got to work."

"Let me get this straight. Even if an autopsy," Jack mentally shuddered at the thought of his young friend being dissected in such a calculated manner, "had found the poison, the time frames would have been off, and the investigators would have run into multiple dead ends trying to find a 'killer' that started killing months ago. Right?"

"Right."

"Is he okay now?"

"I don't know. That's why I wanted another blood sample. I'm hoping without additional doses of the drug, the enhancer will just fade away, but..."

"What would happen if it was mixed with another drug?"

"Depends on the drug. Is he back on his regular antihistamines?"

Jack shrugged. "Don't know, but he did get some sort of injection at the hospital after the bullet grazed him."

Janet's jaw dropped. "Daniel was shot?"

Teal'c spoke up. "The projectile merely grazed his arm. He was not badly injured."

"Daniel was shot?"

Jack and Teal'c exchanged confused glances, then Jack responded. "Uh, yes, but he's okay."

"Daniel was shot? Daniel *was* shot, and you didn't *tell* me? I do not believe this. *What* did the hospital give him... sir?"

"I don't know."

Janet stared at the two men. "Well, Colonel, Teal'c, I *strongly* suggest that *you* find Daniel, while *I* find out what they gave him." Janet absently saluted the stunned Colonel and stalked out of the lab. "Geez! MEN! He could be lying unconscious *anywhere*."

Teal'c watched the diminutive doctor leave. "Doctor Fraiser appears to be highly agitated."

"Ya think?" Jack shook his head in confusion. "Let's find Daniel."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 21

'Ouch. What the... Lying down? Right. Eyes do *not* want to open. What's that noi... Okay. Definitely *not* the infirmary. Suppose I should be grateful for that. Or maybe not. Shit. What now? Oh, God, I'm gonna be...' The thought had not yet finished when what little remained in his stomach emptied onto the floor of the bumpy, noisy truck carrying him somewhere down the mountain. At least it sounded like a truck. Groaning, he forced his eyes open but that didn't help much; it was too dark. Struggling to focus, Daniel was finally able to pick out three shadows of indeterminate sex. None of the shadows moved toward him, indicating they simply didn't care that he'd regained consciousness. The vehicle suddenly swayed violently, sending Daniel's stomach into another revolt. Hanging his head over the seat again, he thanked the powers that be that his hands were not tied. With the dry heaves taking control, his discomfort was intensified when a sudden flash of light blinded him, giving the intermittent pain in his head a full time job. As the heaves finally subsided, a not so gentle hand pulled him back onto the bench, guiding him back into a reclining position. He felt his shirtsleeve being rolled up, and batted feebly at the hands. A huge hand grabbed both his wrists and held them tightly, while the same man used his free hand to inject something into the muscle of his arm. As his consciousness faded, the young archaeologist's last thoughts were, "Jack's really gonna be pissed."

************

"I don't *care* that you've already searched there twice. Search it again!" Jack slammed the handset down into its cradle, and watched angrily as the impact propelled it onto the desk. Hammond's hand intercepted the Colonel's, and the handset was more gently placed into its home.

"Easy Colonel, it is Government property."

"I *don't* really give a ..."

"*Colonel.*"

"Sorry, sir. That was security. Daniel is no where to be found. They claim they've checked everywhere."

"Then I'm certain they have."

"But they didn't *find* him, General."

"Perhaps that is because he is not here to find, Colonel O'Neill."

"Ya think?" Jack paused, ran his hands through his short military haircut, sighed, and tried to regain his composure. "Sorry, Teal'c. I just don't see how Daniel could have gone missing in so short a span of time. It's not like the SGC has any trap doors in it for him to fall down. Or mirrors for him to go through." He shuddered as he remembered the mirror to the alternate reality. "Uh, that thing *is* still at Area 51, isn't it, sir? They didn't ship it back here, did they?"

"No, Colonel. It's still warehoused there. Under guard. Correct Colonel Maybourne?"

"That's correct, General. The mirror's sealed in a crate, and stored under permanent guard."

"Sweet. So, he's not in an alternate universe. Then where *is* he?"

A knock on the open door attracted everyone's attention. A young Airman stood in the hall, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot as he saluted. "Excuse me, sirs, but the Colonel requested this information."

"I didn't ask for anything." Jack replied quickly.

"*You* are not the only Colonel in the room, Colonel." Maybourne snarled and held out his hand. "I'll take that, Airman."

"Yes, sir." The young man moved quickly forward, planted the package in Maybourne's hand, saluted again, and left hurriedly at his nod of dismissal.

"Well?" Jack's impatience was showing.

"Just a minute. *Colonel.*" Maybourne was obviously taking his time.

"Daniel Jackson may not have a minute." Teal'c spoke quietly reminding them once again of his presence.

The startled officers glanced at the seemingly emotionless Jaffa, then Maybourne replied. "I've got a list of all vehicles that left the base around the time Dr. Jackson vanished."

"All vehicles are searched as they leave the mountain." Jack was practically snarling. "Daniel would have been found."

"Even if he wasn't missing at the time?"

"His id would have given him away."

Maybourne smirked. "And what if he'd been given fake id? Do the gate guards look that closely at who actually *leaves* this base?"

Jack opened his mouth, then shut it. He really hated it but... "No, no they don't. They match id on the way in, but not on the way out. Dammit."

"My point exactly."

"What have you found, Colonel?" Hammond was about out of patience.

"Lt. Carl Kincaid left the building as a passenger in a troop transport vehicle this evening."

Jack's shoulders and face contorted with annoyance as he mumbled. "Sooo?"

"So, Colonel, Lt. Kincaid is awaiting an autopsy in the temporary morgue."

Jack was stunned. "W..what?"

Hammond broke in. "You're certain of the id on the man in the truck?"

"Yes, sir."

The General turned a grave face to O'Neill. "Colonel, Lt. Kincaid was the pharmacist's assistant. He had access to the drug supply room, *and* his body was found on the ridge from which the bazooka was fired."

"Then *they* have him, as well as Carter." The raw edge of defeat in the SG-1's commander's voice was not something Hammond was used to hearing.

Placing a supportive hand on Jack's shoulder, Hammond responded quickly. "We'll find them, son. Whoever is responsible for all of this has played one too many games with *my* people. The games stop now." Hitting redial to the security post, Hammond spoke angrily into the mouthpiece. "Seal the base. No one goes in or out, without my authorization."

***********

'Ouch. What the... Oh, dammit, *not* again. Where am I this time?' Forcing unwilling eyes to open, Daniel stared at his surroundings. Well, it certainly wasn't the truck. The cinder blocks that made up the walls around him were painted a seventies shade of green. The linoleum floor was a putrid shade of gray, speckled with black. The overall effect only served to make the room seem even colder than it actually was. Daniel felt a chill run up his spine, and absently rubbed his arms in an effort to get warm. Even his jacket didn't help much. He sighed as he realized that he probably had a fever. That would account for the sudden onset of chills.

His blue eyes looked around the room, and landed on the door. Heavy gray metal, complete with eight bars in a window approximately one foot square. A slot about twelve inches wide by six inches high was located about an inch off the floor, and covered from the outside by a metal plate. What passed for a sink, and a small toilet were positioned directly across from where he lay. Okay, some sort of cell. Terrific. His head still ached, and his stomach ... actually felt much better. Good. He really hated throwing up. Forcing himself to sit up, he held his breath, letting it out once he realized that the earlier nausea was apparently gone for good. Okay, what was the last thing he remembered?

Daniel wracked his aching head for a moment. He'd been heading to the infirmary and gotten lost in thought, managing to make it deep into the bowels of the SGC before he'd known it. Oh! The Harcisus child. The imaging equipment. He remembered wondering about having possibly missed something that would have proven the reality of a Harcisus connection. Since he was already at the imaging rooms, he'd decided to avail himself of the image readers. Their screen surfaces were much larger than the PC in his lab, and would allow him to peruse a much larger surface area. So far so good. He'd positioned himself at one of the units, and entered a variety of search criteria, starting with the name 'Harcisus'. Then what? His eyes widened as he remembered that the search had turned up not one, but three absolute matches on that name. Dear God. Somewhere in the base computer were references to 'Harcisus'. He could prove Shau'ri's assertion to General Hammond, and more importantly, to Jack. He knew his friend was only pretending to believe him, even wanting to believe him, but Jack O'Neill was grounded in reality. And the 'thought transference thingie' as he called it had borne almost as little weight with him as it had with the General, all protestations otherwise notwithstanding.

Then what? He'd been bookmarking the entries when he'd heard footsteps behind him. Remembering suddenly that he was *supposed* to be going to the infirmary, he'd turned to apologize to whomever had come in search of him. A thick rag, with a sickeningly sweet smell, was the last thing he remembered. Until the truck. And now this. "Daniel, you are in real big trouble." To which his mind responded, 'Ya think?' 'Ouch. What the... Lying down? Right. Eyes do *not* want to open. What's that noi... Okay. Definitely *not* the infirmary. Suppose I should be grateful for that. Or maybe not. Shit. What now? Oh, God, I'm gonna be...' The thought had not yet finished when what little remained in his stomach emptied onto the floor of the bumpy, noisy truck carrying him somewhere down the mountain. At least it sounded like a truck. Groaning, he forced his eyes open but that didn't help much; it was too dark. Struggling to focus, Daniel was finally able to pick out three shadows of indeterminate sex. None of the shadows moved toward him, indicating they simply didn't care that he'd regained consciousness. The vehicle suddenly swayed violently, sending Daniel's stomach into another revolt. Hanging his head over the seat again, he thanked the powers that be that his hands were not tied. With the dry heaves taking control, his discomfort was intensified when a sudden flash of light blinded him, giving the intermittent pain in his head a full time job. As the heaves finally subsided, a not so gentle hand pulled him back onto the bench, guiding him back into a reclining position. He felt his shirtsleeve being rolled up, and batted feebly at the hands. A huge hand grabbed both his wrists and held them tightly, while the same man used his free hand to inject something into the muscle of his arm. As his consciousness faded, the young archaeologist's last thoughts were, "Jack's really gonna be pissed."

************

"I don't *care* that you've already searched there twice. Search it again!" Jack slammed the handset down into its cradle, and watched angrily as the impact propelled it onto the desk. Hammond's hand intercepted the Colonel's, and the handset was more gently placed into its home.

"Easy Colonel, it is Government property."

"I *don't* really give a ..."

"*Colonel.*"

"Sorry, sir. That was security. Daniel is no where to be found. They claim they've checked everywhere."

"Then I'm certain they have."

"But they didn't *find* him, General."

"Perhaps that is because he is not here to find, Colonel O'Neill."

"Ya think?" Jack paused, ran his hands through his short military haircut, sighed, and tried to regain his composure. "Sorry, Teal'c. I just don't see how Daniel could have gone missing in so short a span of time. It's not like the SGC has any trap doors in it for him to fall down. Or mirrors for him to go through." He shuddered as he remembered the mirror to the alternate reality. "Uh, that thing *is* still at Area 51, isn't it, sir? They didn't ship it back here, did they?"

"No, Colonel. It's still warehoused there. Under guard. Correct Colonel Maybourne?"

"That's correct, General. The mirror's sealed in a crate, and stored under permanent guard."

"Sweet. So, he's not in an alternate universe. Then where *is* he?"

A knock on the open door attracted everyone's attention. A young Airman stood in the hall, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot as he saluted. "Excuse me, sirs, but the Colonel requested this information."

"I didn't ask for anything." Jack replied quickly.

"*You* are not the only Colonel in the room, Colonel." Maybourne snarled and held out his hand. "I'll take that, Airman."

"Yes, sir." The young man moved quickly forward, planted the package in Maybourne's hand, saluted again, and left hurriedly at his nod of dismissal.

"Well?" Jack's impatience was showing.

"Just a minute. *Colonel.*" Maybourne was obviously taking his time.

"Daniel Jackson may not have a minute." Teal'c spoke quietly reminding them once again of his presence.

The startled officers glanced at the seemingly emotionless Jaffa, then Maybourne replied. "I've got a list of all vehicles that left the base around the time Dr. Jackson vanished."

"All vehicles are searched as they leave the mountain." Jack was practically snarling. "Daniel would have been found."

"Even if he wasn't missing at the time?"

"His id would have given him away."

Maybourne smirked. "And what if he'd been given fake id? Do the gate guards look that closely at who actually *leaves* this base?"

Jack opened his mouth, then shut it. He really hated it but... "No, no they don't. They match id on the way in, but not on the way out. Dammit."

"My point exactly."

"What have you found, Colonel?" Hammond was about out of patience.

"Lt. Carl Kincaid left the building as a passenger in a troop transport vehicle this evening."

Jack's shoulders and face contorted with annoyance as he mumbled. "Sooo?"

"So, Colonel, Lt. Kincaid is awaiting an autopsy in the temporary morgue."

Jack was stunned. "W..what?"

Hammond broke in. "You're certain of the id on the man in the truck?"

"Yes, sir."

The General turned a grave face to O'Neill. "Colonel, Lt. Kincaid was the pharmacist's assistant. He had access to the drug supply room, *and* his body was found on the ridge from which the bazooka was fired."

"Then *they* have him, as well as Carter." The raw edge of defeat in the SG-1's commander's voice was not something Hammond was used to hearing.

Placing a supportive hand on Jack's shoulder, Hammond responded quickly. "We'll find them, son. Whoever is responsible for all of this has played one too many games with *my* people. The games stop now." Hitting redial to the security post, Hammond spoke angrily into the mouthpiece. "Seal the base. No one goes in or out, without my authorization."

***********

'Ouch. What the... Oh, dammit, *not* again. Where am I this time?' Forcing unwilling eyes to open, Daniel stared at his surroundings. Well, it certainly wasn't the truck. The cinder blocks that made up the walls around him were painted a seventies shade of green. The linoleum floor was a putrid shade of gray, speckled with black. The overall effect only served to make the room seem even colder than it actually was. Daniel felt a chill run up his spine, and absently rubbed his arms in an effort to get warm. Even his jacket didn't help much. He sighed as he realized that he probably had a fever. That would account for the sudden onset of chills.

His blue eyes looked around the room, and landed on the door. Heavy gray metal, complete with eight bars in a window approximately one foot square. A slot about twelve inches wide by six inches high was located about an inch off the floor, and covered from the outside by a metal plate. What passed for a sink, and a small toilet were positioned directly across from where he lay. Okay, some sort of cell. Terrific. His head still ached, and his stomach ... actually felt much better. Good. He really hated throwing up. Forcing himself to sit up, he held his breath, letting it out once he realized that the earlier nausea was apparently gone for good. Okay, what was the last thing he remembered?

Daniel wracked his aching head for a moment. He'd been heading to the infirmary and gotten lost in thought, managing to make it deep into the bowels of the SGC before he'd known it. Oh! The Harcisus child. The imaging equipment. He remembered wondering about having possibly missed something that would have proven the reality of a Harcisus connection. Since he was already at the imaging rooms, he'd decided to avail himself of the image readers. Their screen surfaces were much larger than the PC in his lab, and would allow him to peruse a much larger surface area. So far so good. He'd positioned himself at one of the units, and entered a variety of search criteria, starting with the name 'Harcisus'. Then what? His eyes widened as he remembered that the search had turned up not one, but three absolute matches on that name. Dear God. Somewhere in the base computer were references to 'Harcisus'. He could prove Shau'ri's assertion to General Hammond, and more importantly, to Jack. He knew his friend was only pretending to believe him, even wanting to believe him, but Jack O'Neill was grounded in reality. And the 'thought transference thingie' as he called it had borne almost as little weight with him as it had with the General, all protestations otherwise notwithstanding.

Then what? He'd been bookmarking the entries when he'd heard footsteps behind him. Remembering suddenly that he was *supposed* to be going to the infirmary, he'd turned to apologize to whomever had come in search of him. A thick rag, with a sickeningly sweet smell, was the last thing he remembered. Until the truck. And now this. "Daniel, you are in real big trouble." To which his mind responded, 'Ya think?'

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 22

Hammond had barely replaced the handset when the phone rang again. "Hammond. ... Where? ... On our way." Turning to the waiting Colonels, his expression was grim. "Security's found the transport. Three miles down the mountain."

"Daniel?" Jack hardly dared to breathe.

Hammond shook his head. "No sign of any of the occupants. At least we can be grateful for small favors."

"Sir?" Maybourne asked, confused.

"No bodies, this time."

As Jack followed the other officers from the room, only Teal'c heard his dejected, "Yet."

***********

The rain was growing steadily worse, not that Sam would have believed it possible. The intensity of the storm led her to believe that she and the other women were imprisoned high in the mountains. Electrical storms always seemed to be worse there. Even behind the shield of boarded over windows, the lightning flashes appeared vicious. There were just enough small cracks to let the light filter through and the noise of the accompanying thunder-claps was incredible. She shuddered slightly as the thunder grew louder. Sam nearly jumped out of her skin as a huge explosion only proved that Mother Nature was having a bout of PMS. Her ears perked up suddenly at voices, coming from outside the house, expressing concern, but about what she couldn't tell. Obviously lightning had hit *something* that her 'hosts' found important. Too damn bad it hadn't been the power, not that that would have helped; this place probably had a backup generator. Another explosion plunged the house into darkness, generating even more cries of alarm from the voices outside.

Sam instinctively came to her feet, grabbing the lamp off of the bedside table, ready for whatever action she could take. The requisite five seconds normally required by backup generators before kicking in, came and went, and still the place was in darkness. Oh, no, no, no, no. It couldn't be... the first explosion ... the backup generators? Holy Hannah! Sam was moving toward the door on autopilot, muttering a silent prayer as she went. 'Let the lock be magnetic, let the lock be magnetic, let the lock... Oh, God, it *is*! Thank *you*!' Knowing she was working on borrowed time, she threw caution to the wind, and slid open the door.

***********

The footsteps were growing closer. Daniel remained where he was, on the cot, nervously waiting to see what would happen next. Part of him hoped that they would pass on by his cell ... the other part, well, it wanted to know what the hell was going on. If Jack was correct, and on these things the Colonel usually was, there'd been three attempts on his life. But if that was true, why was he a prisoner? Better yet, why wasn't he dead?

His heart dropped into his stomach as the footsteps stopped outside his door. Then nothing. No keys jangling, no doors opening. No one talking. Okay, this was ridiculous. Standing, he moved toward the door. "Uh, hello? Who's there? I heard you walk up. I know you're there. Where am I? What do you want?"

Nothing. ... Then, the metal plate at the bottom of the door slid open, and a tray of food was shoved through. Daniel rushed to the door, and pushed his head as close as possible to the bars, attempting to see his jailers. He was in time to catch the backs of two men, in camouflage, disappearing up the hall. "Uh, Thank you. I think. Nice not talking to you." He knelt down, and uncovered the tray. Blue eyes grew impossibly wide. The tray held a rib-eye steak, baked potato, salad, and a dinner roll. There was even salt, pepper, butter, sour cream, and three different types of salad dressing. A covered mug drew his eyes away from the food, and he pulled off the paper top. Coffee. They gave him coffee. He lifted the tray from the floor, and peering once more into the hall, he called out gratefully. "Thank you."

************

Teal'c laid a hand on O'Neill's arm as the two men trailed after the General and Maybourne. "O'Neill. Something is not right."

Biting back a sarcastic retort, Jack turned to look into solemn brown eyes. "I'm listening."

"There have been three attempts on Daniel Jackson's life. Why, then, has he been taken? Would it not have been simpler to slit his throat on base, than to take him prisoner?"

Shuddering involuntarily at the thought of his young friend's life blood oozing from a ragged gash in his throat, Jack took a deep breath. "Maybe they didn't want him found. A body on base would..." He stopped as the incongruity of his words hit home. The assholes had already killed at least once, if not twice, on military grounds. And it was obvious that they, uh, someone, wanted Daniel dead, very badly. Could there be another player? Sweet. But entirely possible. That meant... "General Hammond?"

Hammond and Maybourne had reached the elevator. Hammond punched for the car, then turned to face O'Neill. "Yes, Colonel?"

"Sir, since Daniel's not there, I'd like to remain here."

"For what reason, Colonel?"

"Well, sir," Jack hesitated momentarily, desperately trying to think of a good reason to remain behind.

"Colonel O'Neill and I wish to determine exactly where Daniel Jackson was when he was stolen. It is possible that all conspirators have not yet been identified."

"That's kidnapped, Teal'c, and he's right, sir. Even at this time of night, getting Daniel off the base should not have been easy. Surely someone saw something."

"My men are capable of handling that task, Colonel." Maybourne's voice held undisguised tension.

"With all due respect, *Colonel*, do your people even know where Daniel was when he was grabbed?"

Maybourne reddened slightly, but Jack was unable to tell if it was from anger, or embarrassment. "No, Colonel O'Neill, but then we're not as concerned with where he was when he was taken, as we are with where he is *now*."

Jack's face turned to stone. "Well, let's say you look your way, and I'll look mine. General, with your permission..."

Hammond studied the two angry men for a moment, wondering exactly what O'Neill had on his mind. "Granted."

**********

A faint gasp gave away the guard. Sam swung the lamp as hard as she could, feeling an unnatural satisfaction as the gasp turned into a pain filled cry. Displaced air combined with his moans told her that the man was bent double. Another brutal blow and the man went to the floor. His breathing pattern indicated he was alive, but unconscious.

Sam whirled as a muffled curse got her attention. A *female* voice. "Tobolo? Ramirez?"

"Who..."

"Major Carter. Lieutenant Tobolo?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Ramirez?"

"Probably still in the, uh, blue room, Major."

"Get her. We're outta here."

"*Yes*, Ma'am."

Sam busied herself with dragging the guard into her room, and shutting the door. 'That's one less vermin in the woodwork', she thought. Seconds later, Tobolo's voice called out softly. "Major?"

"By the stairs. Are you both okay?"

A firm affirmative from the young Lieutenant was weakly echoed by the even younger airman.

"Fine. We're ... oh, shit." Sam's eyes blinked wildly to reclaim her vision as the lights suddenly came back on.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 23

Voices from the lower floors echoed their way up the stairwell. Sam frowned as she glanced around. "Down the stairs. Now." Without waiting for an answer, she assumed her standard point position, temporarily forgetting that she was the ranking officer.

A strong hand on her arm stopped her forward motion. "*I'm* on point, Ma'am. Ramirez, cover our six." With an air of complete calm, the young Lieutenant, slipped past the stunned Major and headed down the stairs.

Irritated beyond words that Tobolo was in front, then realizing the younger woman was right, Sam sighed, and dove down the stairs after her, with Airman Ramirez practically glued to her back.

The two guards, that suddenly appeared on the landing below their prisons, never had a chance. Tobolo once again proved her reputation for toughness. A sidekick sent one man into the wall, and a right hook took the other to his knees. Carter moved forward quickly to finish off the one who'd just bounced off the wall, while Tobolo put his partner to sleep. The two officers moved quickly to disarm the men, while Ramirez worriedly kept watch. Sam frowned as she realized that the guard upstairs had been unarmed. Oh, now *that* was annoying. Did the assholes in charge consider her ... them to be *helpless*? Handing *her* guard's pistol to Ramirez, Sam opted to keep his knife and M-16 for herself. Tobolo, she noted, chose to retain all three items, but seemed to have a special affinity for the knife. Nodding her approval, Sam motioned the Lieutenant to lead on.

************

Curiouser and curiouser. The words from 'Alice in Wonderland' kept playing in Daniel's head. He'd eaten everything, and still felt fine. Daniel had worried momentarily that the food was poisoned or drugged, but had given into temptation as the delicious aroma of cooked beef assailed his nostrils. He hadn't realized how hungry he'd been until he'd tried a piece of the steak. He glanced longingly at the still steaming coffee mug. Janet had given him strict instructions to avoid caffeine, in any form, for forty-eight hours. And it hadn't been that long yet. At least he didn't *think* it had been. They'd taken his watch so he had no way of knowing what time, or for that matter, what day it was. Shit! Should he take the chance? Uh, no. Daniel grinned slightly as he realized that he'd rather be shot than face the petite doctor if he disobeyed her medical restrictions.

Okay, that left only ... gross, water. Sighing heavily he moved to the small sink and turned on the cold water. It ran red for a few moments before clearing up. If murky could be called clear. Whimpering slightly, the young scientist upended the coffee mug, and watched dejectedly as the brown mixture whirled its way down the drain. He rinsed the cup clean, then refilled it with water. Before he could change his mind, he took a huge gulp, gagging slightly at the metallic taste of the water. Knowing he needed liquids, he forced himself to drink one entire mug, and half of another.

Lying back down on the cot, he stared forlornly at the ceiling. He had no idea where he was, who had kidnapped him, why he'd been kidnapped, or what they were going to do with him. That took care of four out of the five W's. The 'when' question had already been answered ... when he was reading those damn files. If only he'd gone to the infirmary as requested, he'd probably still be in the SGC right now.

Jack was always preaching that orders were orders, but somehow he'd never gotten the message. Until now. He'd been ordered to the infirmary, and because he disobeyed those orders, he was now a prisoner, somewhere. Well, he didn't have to be told twice. *This* would not happen again. Making a silent promise to the powers that be to *always* obey orders in the future, if he could just get out of here alive, Daniel rolled over and dropped off to sleep.

************

Jack watched with barely disguised pleasure as the elevator doors shut off Maybourne's face from his view. Punching the button for another car, he turned to the solemn Jaffa. "Okay, Teal'c, any idea where we start looking, or even what we're looking for?"

"We are looking for the place from which Daniel Jackson was abducted." Teal'c somehow managed to sound 'impatient', as if he was surprised at Jack's obtuseness.

Biting back yet another retort, Jack responded. "No, I mean, oh, never mind. Look, Daniel was on the way to the infirmary, right?"

"That is correct, O'Neill."

"Well, we're sure he got off on the infirmary level. Ah, here's our ride." The elevator doors opened again, and Jack motioned Teal'c inside. Pressing the button for the infirmary level, he continued, "Now, we both know what Daniel's like when he's thinking..."

"Daniel Jackson becomes somewhat thoughtless."

"Uh, I think you mean forgetful, absentminded. And yes, he does. What if he was lost in thought, and walked right by the infirmary? Janet admits she didn't have anyone looking out for him." The elevator doors slid open, and Teal'c followed Jack into the hall. "What else is on this hall?"

"There are the labs, but why would Daniel Jackson be interested in those?"

"Hell, I don't know, but maybe. No, wait. The imaging system!"

"There is a system of images in the labs?"

"Uh, no. It's the area where all of Daniel's rocks..."

"Artifacts."

"...right, artifacts, and paper stuff gets scanned into the mainframe. What if he went there for some rea... Oh, God."

"O'Neill? Are you well?"

"Teal'c. The service elevators are located behind the imaging room. If Daniel *was* doing something at the imaging stations, he could've been grabbed and taken to the surface, and no one would ever be the wiser." Jack sighed. "Which is exactly what happened. Dammit to hell."

"O'Neill?"

"Yes?"

"We should go look at this equipment?"

"Yeah, *if* Daniel was there, we'd at least know *where* he was grabbed and maybe, just maybe, *why*?"

"That would be a good thing."

"Ya think? But it still leaves the who, what, and when." Jack pushed ahead, not noticing the look of confusion on the Jaffa's face.

************

Tobolo headed for the next staircase, only to find Carter's hand on her arm. Turning in confusion, the Lieutenant looked blankly at her superior. Sam nodded her head down the hall. The younger officer started to protest, albeit silently, until Sam pointed to her own insignia. The Lieutenant didn't miss a beat as she moved in the direction indicated by Carter. Sam motioned for Ramirez to follow the other woman. The young Airman frowned, but didn't argue as she slipped silently down the hall behind the other officer. Voices from below told Sam they didn't have much time. She hurriedly followed the other two into a small, dark room at the end of the hall. Sam had barely closed the door when she heard the voices draw closer.

"I don't care what it takes. *Find* the Carter woman. Bring her back alive, and unharmed. And her child must be unharmed as well." The irate voice held a hint of an accent that Sam couldn't quite identify. 'If only Daniel was here.' Straining her ears, she heard a soft question from the cruel voice she'd heard earlier.

"What about the other two?"

"I do *not* have time for this. Kill them."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 24

"I have never been to this room, O'Neill. It is ... interesting."

"Ya think?" Jack paused, hands on hips, as he looked around the room. 'Okay, those things that look like cameras probably are the scanners. What we're looking for has to have a screen ... of some sort. AH HA!' "Over there, Teal'c." Jack pointed toward a corner of the room occupied by three video screens. Four long strides, and he was standing in the middle of the units, looking baffled.

"There is a problem, O'Neill?"

"No. Yes. Actually, I'm not sure what to do next."

"They appear to be much like the PC's in other parts of this facility."

"PC's? Oh, yeah, I guess so. It's just, well, now that we're here, I'm not sure how to use them." Jack confessed.

Teal'c gave him an confused look. "You have never used this equipment before?"

"Uh, no. There's never been anything in it I needed."

"Until now."

"Uh, right." Jack had the grace to look mildly embarrassed. "Hell, who am I kidding? Even if I could bring one up, I wouldn't have a clue what Daniel was looking for, assuming he was even in here to begin with." He snorted with disgust. "This was a major waste of time. Let's go."

"Should we then turn off the machine behind you before we leave?"

"What?"

"The *unit* behind you has a yellow light that burns. The light is dull in the other machines."

Jack stared for a long moment at the Jaffa, then turned slowly to look at the imaging station behind him. 'O'Neill, you are *really* getting old.' Angrily, he punched a key and watched as the blank screen saver vanished, leaving an image of a scroll. "*Yes!* Daniel *was* in here. Teal'c, can you read this?"

The Jaffa moved closer, studying the ancient language for a short moment. "Yes, but it is an archaic dialect. It will take some time."

"Colonel O'Neill?"

O'Neill spun towards the voice, anticipating an attack. "Oh, Dr. Fraiser. What are you doing here?"

"I might ask you the same question. When was the last time either of you had any sleep?"

"I do not require sleep. Meditation serves the same purpose and is much more restful." Teal'c's assertion was merely a statement of fact.

Janet glared at the two men. "Fine. When was the last time either of you rested for any length of time?"

"We don't have time right now, Doctor. Teal'c's got to..."

"Get some rest. Just like you do, Colonel."

Jack waved away her concern. "I'm fine. I have to find out what this says."

Janet crossed her arms over her chest. "*I* beg to differ, Colonel. You are over-tired, and therefore prone to making mistakes."

"I'm fine, thank you, Doctor."

"Then why didn't you know I'd come in? I wasn't trying to be quiet. The Colonel O'Neill I'm acquainted with would have acknowledged my presence before I got close enough to make him jump."

"I did *not* jump."

"No, of course not, you just spun fast enough to make me dizzy."

"Daniel and Carter..."

"Will need you awake and alert, Colonel. Not asleep on your feet."

"I'm fine."

She looked pointedly at the Jaffa. "Both of you need sleep."

"Dr. Fraiser, my larval Goa'uld allows me to go without rest for long periods of time. You are, however, correct, Colonel O'Neill has been too long without sleep. I will translate this text, then rest."

"Teal'c..."

"You have my word, Doctor. I will rest when my body dictates."

Janet eyed the Jaffa closely. "Fine, Teal'c. The Colonel will join you again *after* he gets some sleep."

"And I've told you, Doctor, I'm not tired. Contrary to what *some* people think." Jack glared at the Jaffa.

"Colonel, I will not debate the issue. As this facility's Chief Medical Officer, I'm ordering you to bed." She held up a hand to forestall his protest. "Medicated in the infirmary, if necessary."

Looking at the flashing eyes of the petite physician, and the firm-set jaw of the Jaffa, Jack reluctantly admitted defeat. Turning to Teal'c he asked. "I'll be in my quarters. You'll call me when the translation is complete?"

"I will."

"Fine. After you, Doctor." Jack motioned her to precede him through the door.

"Oh, no, Colonel. After you. I insist." Janet barely suppressed a grin, as the obstinate Air Force Colonel gathered his dignity and left the room.

**********

Language Sam hadn't heard since boot camp reached her ears as the unconscious guards were found. Knowing the enemy would soon be searching this floor, she looked around the room for other exits. She allowed herself a small smile as she realized Lieutenant Tobolo was already studying the windows, looking for silent alarms, with every flash of lightning that lit up the room. Naomi Ramirez, however, appeared to be in a daze. Sam remembered that the young Airman's area of expertise was statistical, and had to wonder how recent her firearms certification was. Resolving to make sure her impromptu squad would escape, and in one piece, she moved quickly to the window. "How far to the ground?" She whispered to the young Lieutenant.

"Too far. This house is on a cliff. It's quite a drop. If we can get the window open without setting off this damn alarm, *I* can climb down and go for help."

Sam shook her head. "No, we'll all go."

"What about her?" Tobolo nodded toward Naomi. "I doubt she's ever climbed anything higher than the wall in the obstacle course. Think she can handle it?"

Carter allowed herself a brief, concerned look at the young Airman. "She'll have to. Carin, it is Carin, right?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"I'm gonna level with you. From what I heard as I got the door closed, they only really want me. The searchers have been ordered to kill you, and Airman Ramirez."

"Naomi. Her name's Naomi, Ma'am."

"Right."

"Well, Major, it's a moot point anyway. The window's wired and every alarm in the house will probably go off if we open ..."

Sam smiled slightly as she lifted the sash. No alarms.

Tobolo stared. "If we get out of this alive, Ma'am, how about teaching me that trick?"

"No problem." Sam moved quickly to the young Airman. "Naomi, we've got to go now."

The Lieutenant already had her legs over the sill as the other two women approached. Sam frowned. "Lieutenant, no one said anything about you leading the way."

"No, Ma'am, but I rock climb for a hobby. I thought it would be a good idea for me to go first so I can find the handholds."

Sam nodded silently, then looked at Naomi. "Are you up for this, Ramirez?"

The young woman glanced out the window as another bolt of lightning flashed, shuddered slightly, then gulped. "N..Not really, Ma'am, but do we have a ch..choice?"

"No."

Naomi sighed briefly. "D..Didn't think so. Let's do it."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 25

What little light there'd been had long ago disappeared and the darkness that replaced it was almost overpowering. The walls felt as if they were closing in, attempting to crush him where he lay. Even the air felt stale. He sighed deeply as the realization hit that sleep would just not come. He'd lain awake for who knows how long contemplating his situation. He was trapped. There would be no escape this time. Oh God! *What* was that? Breathing? But he was alone, wasn't he? He'd been alone when the lights went out. He'd heard no doors open ... maybe he *had* dozed off for a while. The breathing was getting louder, and nearer. He just *knew* it. He had to *get up*. Almost frantic with fear, he started to swing his legs off the bed, only to find they were securely pinned. Too late he'd tried to flee. Now he would pay the price. Hands constricted around his throat, and only now did he find it was too late to even scream.

With a choked cry of alarm, Jack sat bolt upright in bed. Panic momentarily shortened his breathing, causing him to gasp in the darkness of his quarters. Dream. It was only a dream. Relaxing a little he ran his fingers nervously through his hair. The short haircut was drenched in sweat, as were the bed clothes. Standing shakily, he pulled on his pants, and stared in disbelief at the clock. He'd been asleep nearly six hours. Surely Teal'c had been able to translate that scroll by *now*. So why hadn't he been summoned? If Daniel's theory was correct, then Carter would be safe until the baby ... he gulped convulsively as the implications of *that* event suddenly hit home. The birth or miscarriage of the baby would probably mean her death at the hands of her captors. The young woman in the makeshift morgue was proof of that. He had to find her before it was too late. And Daniel ... dear God, it might already be too late for Danny. He snapped on the light in his quarters as that reality sank in. As he dropped back onto the bed, he buried his head in his hands, his thoughts racing as uncontrolled as his guilt.

Late. He was always too late. Too late to save Charlie. Too late to save Sha're. Too late to save Skaara. Hell, he'd even been too late to save Daniel on Aphophis' ship. Thank God the young man was so good at saving himself. Jack stared momentarily at the clock, then grabbing a fresh uniform, he headed for the showers. Dr. Fraiser had been right ... he'd been much too tired to think. Even now, sleep still addled his brain. Maybe, just maybe, a hot shower would clear the cobwebs, and maybe, just maybe, Daniel hadn't run out of time, yet.

************

Sam held tightly to the shutter as she carefully slid the window shut. No sense giving away their escape route sooner than necessary. A sideways glance revealed her concern about Ramirez, or would have if it had been light enough to easily see her face. The occasional lightning flashes were barely enough to keep track of the precariously positioned handholds; once on the rock face, there would be no time to look at anything other than hands. As Sam made ready to catch up to the other women on the downward trek, she took a quick evaluating check of her team, as she now thought of them. Tobolo's facial expression was grim, showing concern but no real fear. The young Airman was another story altogether. The girl's face was completely devoid of color, even in the limited light of the electrical storm, and her hands shook badly as the Lieutenant guided her along the rock face. If the truth were known, Sam didn't like it herself. Climbing was never a problem, provided she had the right equipment, which they were sorely lacking. All they had were nerve mixed with equal parts desperation and anger. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Sam released her hold on the house, and moved to join the other women on the side of the mountain.

************

Jack arrived back in the imaging room to find Teal'c seated cross-legged on the floor, in deep meditation. He paused, uncertain as to how to proceed. The Jaffa had been as long, if not longer, without rest as he had, and the Colonel was loath to disturb him now. Thankfully, for once he did not have to make the decision, as his friend's deep voice broke the silence. "You are rested, O'Neill?"

"More or less."

One eyebrow raised in confusion as Teal'c's eyes opened. "Which is it, more, or less?"

"Huh? Oh, no, that's just... never mind. I'm fine, were you able to translate it?"

"Yes."

Jack huffed in a sigh of frustration. "Well, what does it say?"

Teal'c rose gracefully from the floor, and cut the light back on on the unit. The scroll was still dead center of the screen, and he solemnly read each line with great care.

>>>

"When the Harcisus child comes alive

The superior Goa'uld will thrive

The universe will be gained

For our kind shall always remain

Our being, the child will extend

And even death we will transcend

The knowledge of his forebears

Will be his and his heirs

Forward through time, a God

All peoples will him laud"

<<<

Jack had barely restrained a gasp upon hearing the name 'Harcisus' and for once did not interrupt as Teal'c read the ancient text. A look of sheer dismay crept across his face. "It really says Harcisus?"

"Yes, O'Neill. I believe we have found the proof Daniel Jackson was seeking concerning a Harcisus child."

"Yes, dammit, and Daniel was obviously looking at this when he was taken. Shit!" O'Neill sagged into the nearest chair.

"Why are you not pleased, O'Neill? Daniel Jackson now has what he needs to convince General Hammond of the validity of a Harcisus child."

"Yeah, well he's not exactly around for me to congratulate, now is he?" The Colonel immediately regretted the edge to his tone. "I'm sorry, Teal'c."

"You are merely concerned about Daniel Jackson and Major Carter."

Jack smiled. "Yes, but so are you, and I don't see you taking it out on me."

"Perhaps you would find meditation beneficial. I would be honored to teach you."

"Uh, maybe. I'll think about it. You're certain that you've translated the text correctly?"

"I have given it the best possible interpretation given Sha're's words to Daniel Jackson."

"You're telling me it could say something *else*?"

"Possibly. For example, the word 'being' alone has several different basic meanings, and each of those have a variety of synonyms that themselves, have other..."

"*Stop!*"

"There is something wrong, O'Neill?" Teal'c looked puzzled.

Jack rubbed his head and sighed. "I never knew translation was so tough."

***********

As the pre-light of dawn arrived, the rain had finally stopped, and the three women were making remarkable time, considering the wet surfaces. Sam was pleased to note that Ramirez, thought obviously terrified, was making every effort to follow Tobolo's quietly issued instructions to the letter. Sam stayed as close as she dared to the young woman, steadying her when she faltered. The Major could tell that the Lieutenant was *not* happy with this, obviously considering it to be taking too many chances. In other circumstances Sam would have agreed, but she'd worked with Jack O'Neill too long not to be willing to bend the rules. A low whistle caught her attention and she glanced toward Carin Tobolo.

"It's not far now, Ma'am, but the next part's gonna be real tricky. The ground's kinda crumbly anyway and the rain *didn't* help."

Ramirez smiled a shaky smile. "I *think* what she's trying to say, Major, is don't try to grab me if I have a problem."

"You won't have a problem, Airman. *That's* an order."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm r..ready when you are, Lieutenant."

"Right. Put your hands *exactly* where I tell you, Ramirez."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Tobolo moved carefully out onto the unsteady surface, and pointed to the handholds for Ramirez to try, grateful for the faint light in the early morning sky. The young Airman obeyed, and barely stifled a scream as the handhold closest to the Lieutenant turned to mush. Ignoring her own rules, Tobolo moved in unison with Sam to keep the girl from falling. Sighing in relief, Sam kept a tight grip on the young woman as Tobolo guided her hands to safer territory. Her relief, and that of her companions, was short-lived as the ground beneath the Major gave way, sending her tumbling down the cliff.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 26

The jackhammer in his head was working overtime as Daniel forced himself into a sitting position. Leaning against the cold concrete wall, he sighed as the chill brought a modicum of relief to his aching head. Concern for his friends and memories of *that* dream of Sha're, combined with his headache to extract a low groan from the young man. Gently massaging his temples offered more relief than the cold concrete, and he concentrated on that activity for a brief moment. Pain-dulled senses suddenly recognized the heavy tread of booted feet coming down the corridor outside his cell. Lacking the energy to rise, Daniel absently watched as another tray slid through the opening in the door. Sighing, he wondered what breakfast would be. Probably toast, eggs, and maybe, he brightened at the thought, coffee. Surely that forty-eight hour prohibition on caffeine had ended by *now*. Matter of fact, that was probably why his head hurt so very badly. Caffeine withdrawals. Yes, that was it. Two days without coffee always gave him a horrendous headache, and this one certainly was one of the worst that he could remember. Moving eagerly now toward the tray, he pulled the cover off of a large mug and was rewarded with the delicious aroma of coffee. *YES!* Praying quietly that it was *not* decaf, he started to take a sip, only to find it was much too hot. Reluctantly he put it back on the tray and uncovered the plate. Toast, eggs, bacon, and sausage stared back at him. A regular cholesterol feast. Special. Spreading butter and raspberry jelly on the toast, Daniel settled down to eat. He paused every couple of bites to test the temperature of the precious coffee. *Finally* the brew was cool enough to drink, and Daniel could almost feel his headache dissipating as he brought the mug to his lips.

************

"Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!" Naomi chanted quietly as she and Carin worked their way down the cliff-face. The need to escape from their captors was now overridden by the need to reach the Major.

Carin gritted her teeth as she tried to ignore the younger woman's monotonous chant. Her own thoughts were filled with self-recrimination. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Of all the stupid things to have happen. She should have seen it coming. Should've warned Major Carter that the ground wasn't stable where she was. The muffled scream, and the sound of her body sliding down the wet surface still echoed around the Lieutenant. God, she hadn't been with the SGC long, and she'd managed to get one of the premier team's members *killed*, or at best, gravely injured. Besides, she really *liked* the Major. Shit! Carter was intelligent, gutsy, compassionate and very much aware that she was a woman in a *man's* environment. The Armed Forces could use more women like the young Major, and Tobolo was silently praying she hadn't died. The earth moved suddenly beside her, and she instinctively grabbed the young Airman's arm.

"Careful, Ramirez, I don't need you hurt too."

"Sorry, Lieutenant." A long silence passed between the two women as Tobolo searched for another handhold in the mud. "Lieutenant?"

"What?"

"Do you think she's alive?"

Tobolo turned her head toward the younger woman, a sarcastic retort dying on her lips as she saw the girl's concerned face. "I hope so ... Naomi. I really hope so."

************

Jack was staring in disbelief at the text on the screen, silently berating himself for even unconsciously doubting Daniel. 'When will I learn? How often does Daniel have to prove himself?' Footsteps in the corridor caused both men to turn quickly toward the door. A young Marine Private walked casually into the room, and slid to a startled halt at the sight of SG-1's Colonel, and Teal'c.

Snapping a salute, the young man stuttered. "C..Colonel O'Neill, Mr. Teal'c, uh, can I, uh, help you?"

Jack returned the salute, speaking as he did so. "What are you doing here, Private?"

"Sir?"

"Son, it's six in the morning. What are you doing here?"

"Oh, yes, sir. Sorry, sir. My shift doesn't start until eight, but SG-7 brought back a sh.., a lot of scrolls that have to be scanned, translated, and cross-referenced."

"Cross-referenced?" Teal'c was puzzled by the term.

"*Translated!*" There was an odd lilt to Jack's voice.

Wisely choosing to respond to the officer's comment first, the young man nodded. "Yes, sir. All documents that can be translated are stored with the translation, and," he nodded toward Teal'c, "then cross-referenced by keywords or what appear to be keywords. That allows researchers to find every text that has a certain word in it. That document on the screen, for example, was scanned about eight months ago. I can tell that by the id number." He added the latter in hopes of erasing the odd look on the Colonel's face.

Jack felt his blood-pressure rising as he voiced his disagreement with the young soldier's comment. "*This* one hasn't been translated."

"Oh, yes, sir, it has. You've just got the original document pulled up. If you put the cursor on the 'A' in the corner..." The young man moved the cursor as he spoke, "... point, and click, then the translation comes up beside the document. *If* it's been able to be translated that is. But not too many are left undone. Any that the linguists can't make out, are turned over to Dr. Jackson. Sooner or later *he* gets them translated."

Jack stared in undisguised dismay at the screen. Teal'c's eyes were also on the screen, but seemed less interested in the existing translation than in the differences between it, and his own. "Ah, you see, O'Neill, I told you the word 'being'..."

"Not now, Teal'c." Jack couldn't believe they'd wasted an entire night translating a text that had already been done. "Great, that means anyone with access could've read this."

"You were hoping to limit the search, O'Neill?" Teal'c quickly picked up on his friend's thoughts.

"Yeah, anybody could read it. Not just those people who could translate it. We won't find anybody this way."

The young Private looked confused. "Sir, what about the audit trail?"

"Audit trail?" Jack glared at the young man.

"Yes, sir. This is classified material. *Anyone* who accesses it has their id, date and time of access, etc, loaded into the security database."

"Private?"

"Louis Clark, sir."

"Any relation to Nurse..."

"No sir!" The young man replied quickly.

"Right. Can you trace the audit trail, Private?"

"Sir, there's not a computer trail around that I can't trace, but I'm supposed to catalog..."

"Son, your orders just got changed."

"Yes, Sir!"

************

Daniel sighed as the aroma of freshly brewed coffee once again reached his nose. He could tell the difference between instant and brewed just by the smell. *This* had come out of a pre-processed can, but it was definitely not instant. His conscience worried him for a moment. What if it hadn't been forty-eight hours? He squelched down the guilty thought as he gratefully downed a huge amount of the liquid. Sputtering and spewing, he sent the mug crashing to the floor as both hands grabbed convulsively for his throat. As he collapsed to his knees, the scream he wanted to release could not escape from a swollen, horribly burned throat.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 27

The young Private's brow was wrinkled in confusion, and no small amount of nervousness, as he checked and rechecked the computer logs. Having Jack O'Neill hovering over his shoulder would've sorely tested the nerves of even the most seasoned officer, but it became doubly stressful with the solemn eyes of the Jaffa also watching every move he made. And to make matters worse, General Hammond, and that Area 51 officer, whatever the hell his name was, had arrived only moments earlier. Private Clark silently wondered what cosmic law he'd broken to be plagued with so *many* officers, so early in the morning. He frowned, and rechecked an entry. Muttering softly to himself, he stored the data he'd collected, and checked another entry.

Jack watched every move the young Private made with concern. The boy appeared to be much too young to know anything, but he did seem to be able to find his way around a computer. Therefore, the Colonel was privy to the small change in the body language of the young Marine. "Something wrong, Private?"

"I'm not sure, sir. It almost looks like..." His voice trailed off.

"Almost looks like what?"

"Well, sir, it looks as if someone deleted the main audit trail."

"And this is a bad thing?" Jack asked, slightly confused.

"Yes, sir, but it's not necessarily a show-stopper. I've initiated a query against the backup log databases to see if I can find when the main log was corrupted."

"Cut to the chase, son." Hammond interrupted the dialog between Colonel and Private. Too little sleep had played hell with his patience levels.

Gulping, the young Private replied. "Yes, Sir! Given the security surrounding this material, we're required to keep daily audit logs backed up to weekly logs, and so on until you get to annual logs. The annual logs are then retained for seven years. If someone accessed this data, one of the backups will show it."

Maybourne snorted derisively. "Private, if someone could access this information, then they probably overwrote the audit trail as they did so."

"That's a possibility, sir, but I doubt they could overwrite all three."

"Three?"

"Yes, Sir. This *is* a government operation, *everything* gets done in triplicate."

**************

"Lieutenant? I think I s..see her." Ramirez's voice trembled as she spoke.

Tobolo completed a move to a small handhold, and spared the other woman a glance. "Airman, I thought you realized, Major Carter will be at the bottom by now." She didn't add the 'probably dead' thought.

"No, Ma'am. I'm sure I see her, just over there, on that tree."

"Airman, this is a sheer cliff, of mixed rock and mud. There aren't any..." The young Lieutenant stared in shock at the lone scrub oak protruding from the side of the cliff. "...okay, I've been wrong before." Samantha Carter was definitely held in place by the surface roots, but in what condition, Carin could not tell. "Naomi, I'm going over there as fast as I can. Stay here. Do *not* try to follow me. Understand?"

"But..."

"No. That's an order, Airman. Stay put." Certain the girl would obey, Tobolo moved toward the Major.

***************

"It won't be long now, sirs." Private Clark prayed he was right as he tried to reassure the obviously worried officers. Only that *outsider* Colonel seemed as if he could care less. Clark had decided that, officer or not, he *really* didn't like this man. A faint beeping noise emerged from the speaker nearest him, and he turned back to the computer to review the results of his search. He was startled by a faint, reassuring pressure as Colonel O'Neill squeezed his shoulder. Sparing a moment to glance at the SG-1 commander, Clark was surprised to see a slight smile of encouragement from the older man. As the young man returned his attention to the screen, he finally understood that the rumors about Jack O'Neill were true. This Colonel *cared* about his people, and right now, Clark was one of his. Calmer now because of the human touch, the young Private read aloud from the third backup. "There've only been two accesses to this material and both came from outside this facility."

Hammond moved forward quickly, effectively cutting off the question on O'Neill's lips with his own. "Outside? Who?"

Clark glanced at the screen. "This is really odd, sir. The first access came from a computer at the Air Force Academy. The trail says that Dr. Alfred Howard's PC was used, but *that* could have been anybody. Particularly if he wasn't careful and left the machine up."

Jack and Teal'c exchanged glances as Maybourne spoke up. "Don't make us guess, Private, who's the other one."

"Uh, yes, sir. Dr. Hans Reicher."

Hammond looked stunned. "Who?"

"Hans Reicher, sir." Clark eyed the SGC commander curiously, as did the rest of the men present.

"We already suspected that Howard was involved. But who's this Reicher person?" Jack asked.

"A man with more money than sense, or so the brass used to think. For a long time during the Vietnam Era, he was the sole support of this facility. I've heard rumors that he had a crush on Katherine at one time."

"An operation like this would take money." Jack was now thinking out loud. "But how would Reicher benefit? What is he anyway?"

Hammond responded quickly. "He's a geneticist."

Fury raged in O'Neill's eyes as he spoke. "*Where* does he live?"

************

Carin heard a faint moan as she neared the tree. 'My God, she's alive. Thank you, Lord!' "Major, hold still. Don't try to move. I'll be there in a minute." A few chancy moves, and the Lieutenant was close enough to the tree to reach out and touch the Major. Carter gasped as the younger woman's hand touched her shoulder. "Easy, Major. How, uh, how do you feel?"

Sam's eyelids blinked rapidly as she tried to focus on the voice. "L..Like I slid down a mountain."

Carin grinned in relief. The Major could at least talk, even make a very bad joke. "Yes, Ma'am, that you did, but not all the way down. What hurts?"

"Everything. But I don't think anything's broken, but ..." Sam paused, "Are there two of you?"

Confused Tobolo responded. "Ramirez is back on more stable ground, Ma'am."

"No, I meant are there two of you?"

"Oh. No, Ma'am. Concussion?"

"Yeah," Sam replied weakly, "I think so. And I'm cramping ... a lot."

'Uh Oh. Internal injuries?' Carin smiled reassuringly at the Major. "Ma'am, I know you didn't want us to separate, but it's about fifty feet straight down, but about one hundred to one hundred fifty feet of climbing. Unless you're up to it, I'd say it was time for me to go for help, Ma'am."

Sam stifled a groan, and nodded her agreement.

Carin glanced back at Naomi Ramirez. "Ma'am, Airman Ramirez is about twenty feet away, but I don't dare take the time to help her over here. Will you be okay alone?"

Shoving back another groan, Sam replied softly. "No choice. Now, go, before I change my mind."

**************

As Private Clark checked for an address on Reicher, Maybourne suddenly looked at his pager. Frowning, he turned to General Hammond. "If you'll excuse me, General. I've been beeped by one of my teams."

Hammond waved him away as he waited impatiently for the address of the man they all suspected of instigating the crimes against *his* people.<

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 28

"General Hammond?" The nervous young Private's voice had a slight edge to it. "Dr. Reicher's place of residence is in Switzerland."

"Switz... oh for crying out loud. How are we gonna get..." Jack was starting to rant when the young man began to shake his head. "Private?"

"No, sir. That's where he lives, I guess. *But* his 'Infinity Corporation' has its main headquarters in Denver, and there's a corporate lodge in the mountains not ten miles from here."

"Now *that's* more like it. General, permission..."

Hammond's raised hand promptly stopped Jack's question. "Private, what exactly is 'Infinity Corporation'? I've never heard of it."

"Well, according to its Mission Statement, its primary function is in genetic research, with the ultimate goal of drastically extending the human life span, Sir. They focus primarily on research on mitochondrial DNA."

"Mito...what?"

"Mitochondrial DNA, sir. A lot of the mitochondrial diseases like diabetes, hearing loss, vision loss, even dementia have similar symptoms to the aging process itself."

"And you know of this because..." Jack left the question open-ended.

"Oh, I'm working on my Bachelor's degree in genetics, sir." Clark added hopefully, "I'd like to work in the biology labs at SGC eventually, sir. The possible long-term effects of Gate travel on human genetics is absolutely fascinating."

"Effects of Gate ... Genetics ... extending life. Oh, God." Jack turned quickly to the Jaffa. "Teal'c, you spoke of alternate translations of that text. Could it be interpreted so that the reader would think of immortality rather than knowledge?"

Teal'c nodded slowly. "That *is* one possible translation, O'Neill, but not the most probable one."

"Forget probable. Daniel was right ... again."

"Right about what, Colonel?" Hammond asked quickly.

"About someone wanting to produce a Harcisus child by using Sam and Apophis' genes. Only *they* thought they'd be getting the key to immortality, not knowledge."

"So *Dr.* Reicher engineered the plan, and *Dr.* Howard used his position at the Air Force Academy Hospital to artificially inseminate *my* female staff."

"I'd say yes to both of those, sir. Permission to ..."

"Colonel, take as many people as you think wise, and pay a visit to that lodge. I'll clear it through the necessary channels. I don't care *how* much money he has, *no one* messes with my people."

"Yes, sir." Jack and Teal'c were halfway to the door even as Hammond issued the orders. As they left the room, Jack was pleased to hear Hammond telling Private Clark to have his 'request for transfer' papers on his desk in twenty-four hours.

***************

"Destroy all the computer records, and make damn sure the explosion not only looks accidental but will take the house down completely. I want no trace of those women left for the police to find. And get my chopper ready." Reicher was busy loading his briefcase with the papers he could not live without. Never a stupid man, he'd decided to cut his losses and run. His paid assassin had reported another attempt was to be made on Jackson's life, but Reicher had received information that Jackson had, as he'd feared, put two and two together and had found the ancient text he'd based his theory on. God, he worked *so* hard to convince that idiot Howard that he was right, that the text implied immortality. Now Jackson had found the text and sooner or later the trail would lead to him. So the young man's death would serve no real purpose. He'd left word terminating the hit, at half pay; there was no reason now to eliminate such a brilliant mind as Jackson's. After all the boy *might* yet prove useful one day. As for the women, only Carter would get off the mountain alive. Of *that* he was certain. His trackers were the best. They could find anyone, anywhere. Once she was found, his plans could continue elsewhere, unabated. Snapping shut his briefcase, he casually stepped over the body of Alfred Howard. Odd, the physician was somehow much more likable in death than in life. Pity that the official report would show that the poor man had been killed in the mysterious explosion that claimed the home he was vacationing in.

***************

Lieutenant Tobolo sighed with relief as she allowed herself to drop the remaining few feet to solid ground. Making her way quickly through the woods, she kept a watch on the sun. Thanking her lucky stars that the day was not overcast, she'd taken note of a narrow road about a mile from *her* cliff. Keeping an eye on the sun's position in the sky as she'd come down the remainder of the cliff, she was reasonably confident that she'd find the road, sooner or later. She really hoped sooner. Major Carter was obviously injured, probably bleeding internally, and Carin was *not* certain how long Ramirez would remain where she was. The young Airman had not liked her orders to stay behind and watch the Major, from a distance. Carin feared the younger woman would attempt to either move closer to the Major, or follow her own trail down the mountain. Either way would prove disastrous for the Airman. A fall would certainly mean the girl's death. But should she survive to make it to the bottom alone, Tobolo would read her the riot act for disobeying orders.

She stumbled across the 'road' much sooner than she'd expected, but the exhilaration she experienced was short-lived as she heard the sound of a rifle being cocked.

"Throw down your weapon, missy, and turn around, slowly." Cursing silently, she dropped everything but the knife. *That* she hoped was sufficiently well-hidden not to be noticed. Turning she found herself facing two guards she'd not seen before. "Which one are you?"

"L..." Suddenly remembering the Major's assertion that she and Ramirez were to be killed, Tobolo was once again grateful that she'd been in civies when she'd been kidnapped. "Carter. Samantha Carter."

"And the others?"

"They didn't make it off the mountain." She barely suppressed a smile as she realized she hadn't lied about that.

Thin lips pursed into what she supposed was a smile. Clicking on his radio, his voice took on a satisfied note. "Got her. Other two are dead. ... Right. On our way." Smiling for real now, he looked her up and down. "Well, honey, we're to take you to the boss. Turn around."

She took too long to obey his instructions and winced as he brutally turned her to face away from him. Yanking first one, then the other arm behind her, he secured them with handcuffs and shoved her up the trail.

***********

Tears streamed down his face as Daniel clutched his throat. To his dismay, his stomach began to convulse unbearably, and he felt the bile working its way back toward his mouth. 'Oh God, no, please, don't throw up.' He wish was not to be satisfied as the bile forced its way past his lips, providing new sources of pain to the already traumatized tissues of his throat and mouth. His stomach finally emptied, he pushed himself away from the remains of his breakfast, and tried to make it to the cot before the next round of nausea hit. The pain was almost unbearable, and he feared that dry heaves would soon follow. His strength was gone, leaving him lying on the cold floor, his outstretched hand touching the breakfast tray. His confused thoughts became more and more angry as he realized that these SOB's had really poisoned him. That his life would end on the cold stone floor of this cell, alone, so very alone. As his consciousness faded completely away, he managed to hurl the tray, and what remained of its contents, at the door, in a pathetic attempt to show defiance to the bitter end.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 29

Naomi Ramirez was terrified. The Major was trapped and injured, and the Lieutenant had been forced to go for help. While the young woman understand mentally why she'd been left behind, basically alone on the cliff face, emotionally was a whole other matter. The Lieutenant had found a solid, if shallow, ledge for Naomi to rest on while she waited, but it was still much too far off of the ground for the girl's tastes. As she watched the motionless form of Major Carter, Naomi swore that she'd never climb mountains again as long as she lived, and no one, absolutely no one, was gonna make her. A low moan from the Major pulled her attention in that direction, and her eyes widened in horror as she realized the woman was moving too much. She could slide out of the tree at any moment. Naomi started to call out, then realized the other woman would never hear her. There was no choice. She'd have to go to the Major, but ... Lieutenant Tobolo had ordered her to stay put. Oh, bother. Somehow, she figured, someone was gonna find some reason to yell at her, so why not give that mysterious someone a legitimate reason. Gearing up her courage, she called out. "Hang on, Major, I'm coming."

**************

"Colonel O'Neill."

"Yes, Teal'c"

"Are all military vehicles capable of speeds such as this?"

"No, and I'm not driving too fast."

"I did not say you were."

Jack spared a quick glance for the man in the passenger seat. "Then what?"

"The other vehicles that were accompanying us appear to be missing. If they cannot achieve such speed as ours, then perhaps we should adjust ours to match theirs."

"Dammit, they'll just have to catch up. We've got to find Carter, and hopefully Daniel."

"O'Neill, I also believe that we must find Major Carter and Daniel Jackson, but I do not believe that the two of us alone will be able to successfully achieve their release."

"Ya think?" Jack sighed in irritation. "You're probably right." Glancing in his rear view mirror, he muttered. "Wonder just how far behind us, the reinforcements are?"



************

As George Hammond watched what little remained of his SG-1 team leave, he also took note of Colonel Maybourne speaking fast and furiously into the phone. Frowning, the General walked purposely toward the man. As Hammond drew near, Maybourne snarled, "I'll deal with it, just get her there." The handset slammed forcefully into the cradle as Maybourne acknowledged the General's approach. "General Hammond, where are O'Neill, and Teal'c off to in such a hurry?"

"They're going to pay a visit to the lodge owned by Hans Reicher's corporation."

"Well, I guess that's for the best. O'Neill gets so emotional where Jackson's concerned."

"That's *Doctor* Jackson, Colonel. And I'm not sure I would classify the Colonel's concern for his welfare as 'emotional'."

"I beg to differ, General. The man's obsessed with J.. Dr. Jackson's safety."

"Maybourne, Daniel Jackson is a valuable member of SG-1, as well as an asset to this facility. *His* welfare is important to everyone at the SGC."

"No one man..."

"You've found him, haven't you?"

"More or less."

"Maybourne!" Hammond's eyes flashed with anger at the elusive response.

"Yes, sir. We've found him."

The General prayed silently as he asked the inevitable question. "Alive?"

"For now. Dr. Fraiser's being taken to him as we speak."

Hammond stared in disbelief for a moment at the arrogant Colonel, then sputtered a not-so-mild curse, and headed for the door. "Coming, *Colonel*?"

"Sir, there's really no ne..."

"Colonel Maybourne, I am *not* asking for your opinion. Now take me to Dr. Jackson."

************

As it turned out, reinforcements were not as far behind Jack and Teal'c as the Colonel had at first feared. Two military humvees soon pulled up beside Jack's jeep, and Major Feretti scowled in mock annoyance at the SG-1 pair. "Begging the Colonel's pardon, but this is *not* the Pike's Peak Hill Climb."

Jack granted his young friend a brief smile, then grew serious. "Sorry, Major, I'll take it a little easier, but I'm afraid we don't have much..."

An explosion further up the mountain grabbed their attention, and all three vehicles gunned their engines. O'Neill's jeep leaped out in front of the humvees, and once again, he was speeding up the mountain, closely followed by the other men.

************

He was surrounded by idiots. First that moron, Howard, had argued for the preservation of the other women's pathetic little lives, even though they had *no* scientific value. Now his explosives *expert* had mis-timed the destruction of the house. The only redeeming feature was that almost everyone had left the premises by the time the roof became part of the basement and the flames leaped into the sky. Well, there was another one, the *expert* had been in the basement when the charge went off. No great loss there. Surveying the damage, he caught the eye of the chopper crew. A thumb's up from his chief mechanic relieved him of his concern that debris had damaged the helicopter. The pilot nodded at the mechanic and started the blades whirring once more.

The sound of a truck coming up the drive caught his attention. *She* was here. Soon they'd be gone. Moving eagerly toward the truck, his eyes widened with dismay as Carin Tobolo was 'assisted' off the tailgate. "IDIOTS! This *isn't* Carter!"

The man who'd reported in stared in shock at his employer, "But, but she said..."

"She *lied*!" For an old man, Reicher had a surprisingly powerful right hook.

The other man cringed as his partner fell unconscious to the ground, and Carin had to work to suppress a grin at this abuse of her abusers. "She..she said the others are d..dead."

Reicher slapped the young Lieutenant brutally, sending her spiraling to the ground. "Is that *true*?"

Recognizing that she only had one chance, Carin responded tersely. "No, but you won't find them without me."

Seizing her hair, he roughly tilted her head backwards. "Oh, I think our friend here," he nodded at the trembling thug, "can get us pretty close. We'll just return to where he found *you*. Isn't that right?"

The thug's face lost all color, and his voice shook badly. "N..No, s..sir. Garry knows where we were, not me."

Reicher groaned in annoyance as he glared at his employee. "Then wake him up, *now*."

The frightened man dropped to his knees and angrily shook his partner. "Garry, get the hell up ... oh, shit!" As he jerked the downed man upright by his shirt, the limp head fell forward, revealing blood which had previously gone unnoticed. "Oh, God... he's d...dead." Blood on a small, jagged rock gave mute evidence to the mishap.

Infuriated beyond words, Reicher struggled to regain his composure. "Idiots. I'm surround by idiots." Tightening his grip on her hair, he pulled the young woman roughly to her feet. "Well, my dear, I strongly suggest that you lead us to Major Carter."

Carin smiled grimly, then spat in his face. "Or what, asshole, you'll *kill* me?"

************

It seemed an eternity before Naomi Ramirez could reach the tree that supported Samantha Carter. "Major?" A low moan was her only response. The young Airman's hand shook as she tentatively reached out to touch Sam's face. The heat coming off the Major was in direct contrast to the tremors that plagued her body. There was no way to pull Sam into her arms without risking either a fatal fall for both of them or further injury to the officer. Naomi, therefore took the only option available to her. Carefully sliding out of her shirt, the girl tucked it tightly around the Major, praying fervently that it would add enough warmth to at least reduce her tremors. Wrapping her arms around her chest, Naomi leaned back against a tree root, and began to croon an ancient lullaby, hoping it would soothe the injured officer's spirits as well as her own.



----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 30

Reicher tightened his hold on Carin Tobolo's hair, drew back and delivered a hard punch to her stomach. The Lieutenant's gasp of pain was cut off as the wind was knocked out of her. Her body went slack and the old man released her hair, allowing her to sag to the ground. As he wiped his face with a handkerchief, he watched her rock back and forth, clutching her abdomen. "Actually, yes." Turning to his bodyguard, he issued quick orders. "Take Briant, and *her*, back down the road. See if *he* can remember anything. If *he* can't, and *she* won't, kill them both.

*********

Jack gripped the wheel tightly as he maneuvered his jeep around a particularly tight curve. The tires screamed madly, and he cursed under his breath. Slowing enough to retain control, he kept an eye on the smoke rising from the top of the mountain. Suddenly a truck rounded a corner on his side of the road. Braking madly, Jack didn't even have time to curse as the truck impacted with the trees closest to the edge. A huge pine was all that stood between the truck and oblivion. Jack's jeep ended up in a small ditch on the opposite side of the road. "Shit!" Jack pushed himself away from the steering wheel. "Ouch. Teal'c, you okay?"

The silence brought his head around with a snap. Teal'c was no longer in the jeep. As a matter of fact, one of the humvees had passed the jeep as it tilted into the ditch. The other had pulled in behind it and a concerned voice could be heard. "Colonel, are you all right, sir?"

Jack waved the young Private off, and rubbing the growing bump on his head, climbed out of the jeep and headed for the truck. Teal'c, Feretti and two other Airmen were already there. To Jack's relief, Teal'c was lifting Carin Tobolo physically from the truck, ignoring the young woman's protests. Feretti had secured the man in the back with her ... not a difficult job considering he'd been knocked senseless in the crash. The Airmen were holding weapons on the driver and his passenger, both of whom seemed reluctant to move. Probably a wise decision, considering the precarious positioning of the truck's cab.

Tobolo glared angrily at the unconscious thug. "Major, *he's* got the keys to *these* things." She twisted enough for him to see the handcuffs.

"Right. Now where... ah ha, Teal'c, catch."

The Jaffa steadied the young woman with one hand as he caught the keys with the other. She smiled gratefully at the man as she rubbed her wrists. "Thank you, sir."

"Lieutenant, you okay?"

"I am now, Colonel, but Major Carter and Naomi Ramirez are trapped on a cliff."

"Trapped, where?" Jack studied her face earnestly.

Tobolo studied the surrounding territory. "About a half a mile into the woods, I'd guess. But sir, we've got to hurry. Major Carter fell..."

"*Fell!*"

"Yes, sir, but a lone tree broke her fall. Sir, she looked pretty bad to me. And Ramirez, well, she's doing her best but she's not a climber, so I l..left her on a ledge while I went for help. I had to move quickly, and..." Her voice lowered to a whisper as she looked into Jack's worried eyes. "Sir, I *did* do the right thing leaving them, ... didn't I?"

***************

"Where is he?" Janet Fraiser's voice held a chill that matched the temperature in the old cinder block building. The two corpsmen with her stayed glued to her side.

The anxious Lieutenant meeting them at the outer door, replied quickly. "This way, Ma'am." He led her through the dimly lit corridors, stopping in front of a now open metal door. "In here, Ma'am."

Janet pushed past the officer, and hurried to Daniel's side. A worldly looking Sergeant was supporting the young scientist's back, and attempting to offer comfort as he gasped for breath. Blue eyes, wide with fear, met Janet's and she forced down her own fear to help quiet his. Daniel tried to speak, but she shushed him gently. Turning to the Sergeant she asked. "Any idea what happened?"

The older man glared for a moment at the Lieutenant, then nodded. "The bottled water used to make the coffee wasn't water."

"What was it?"

"There was a faint ozone smell that was kinda masked by the aroma of the coffee. I suspect it was hydrogen peroxide."

Janet gently urged Daniel's mouth open and shone her pen-light down his throat. "Well, that would fit with the inflammation."

The Lieutenant moved closer. "That's poisonous, isn't it?" Janet nodded but didn't look up as he continued, "Damn it! I knew it. I told you he should throw up some more!"

Janet's head whirled. "What did you say?"

"What you do in poisoning cases ... make the guy vomit."

The other corpsman had paled badly as he took Daniel's vitals. Janet gulped. "You *didn't* do that, did you?"

"No, Ma'am. The *Sergeant* wouldn't let me."

A sigh of relief escaped the lips of both doctor and corpsmen. "Thank God. He's thrown up quite enough on his own. Daniel," Janet now addressed her comments to her young friend. "I know it hurts, but I don't think the inflammation is quite as bad as it probably feels. However, your stomach's distending because of the hydrogen peroxide decomposition. I'm gonna need to relieve the pressure. Unfortunately that means a tube down your nose. Understand?"

Daniel's pale face lost even more color, but he nodded his consent. Janet smiled, and placed a gentle hand on his cheek. He closed his eyes as she directed her next comments to one of the corpsmen. "I need the nasogastric tube. Sergeant, if you'll let Airman Jeffreys take your place, and get me a glass of water, *real* water, please."

"Yes, Ma'am." The Sergeant slipped away as the corpsman moved in to take his place.

"Fine. Now, Daniel, can you swallow at all?"

He nodded, his panic fading with each calm word.

"Okay, good. I need you to lean back against Jeffreys, and tilt your head back just a little. This is not going to be pleasant but it will relieve the discomfort in your stomach. Now when the tubing gets to a certain point, I'm going to ask you to swallow some water. It'll help the tube get to your stomach."

A shaky "terrific" brought a smile to her lips, even as she measured the tubing against his body, and marked the right length with a piece of tape. "Ready?"

"Would it matter if I said no?" Daniel's voice was still weak but the tremor was gone.

"Actually, no. Here goes."

Daniel gasped as the tube slid up his nostril. Suddenly he gave a violent jerk as his eyes teared up. The corpsman tightened his grip as Janet carefully pushed the tube further in. When he finally gagged, she paused for a moment, allowing him a brief rest. As his body relaxed, Jeffreys handed him the glass. Janet smiled. "Okay, now Daniel. I want you to take small sips of the water. Don't be alarmed, but as you swallow, I'll push the tube further down your throat. It won't be long now."

The young man gagged slightly on the first sip, then at Janet's urging took small sips as she pushed the tubing quickly down his throat. Reaching the tape mark, she was relieved to see the brownish liquid from his stomach moving through the tubing. Working quickly, she taped the tube to his nose, then wrapped a piece of tape around the tube at chest level, and pinned the tape to his shirt. Reaching forward she gently patted his cheek. "You did good, Dr. Jackson. Real good." Leaving her hand there for a moment, she looked at the corpsmen. "Let's transport, gentlemen."

A voice from behind her spoke quietly. "How's my boy?"

Janet rose to face the General. "I *think* he's gonna be fine. I'll know more when I get him back to the infirmary." She watched as the two corpsmen loaded Daniel on a stretcher. As they quickly carried him from the room, Janet turned to face a steely faced Colonel Maybourne. "I'm really glad you *found* Daniel so fast, Colonel. I know Colonel O'Neill will be grateful, too." She followed the stretcher from the room without waiting for his acknowledgment.

Hammond looked at Maybourne for a long moment, visually dissecting the man as if he were a bug under a microscope. "Colonel. I'd like to know how you found Dr. Jackson."



----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 31

The worried Colonel gave the young Lieutenant another sideways glance, unnoticed, of course, by the preoccupied woman. Her brow was furrowed in thought as her eyes stayed glued to the woods on the mountain side of the road. The humvee was moving slowly, too slowly for Jack's tastes, but ... They'd only traveled into the woods for a short distance from their original location before the young woman realized they were in the wrong spot. The search party had returned quickly to the road, and taken one humvee back down the mountain. "Stop!" Carin hopped out of the vehicle before it had entirely pulled to a halt. Jack followed her quickly, and caught her arm just as she was about to disappear into the underbrush.

"Whoa, Lieutenant. Not so fast."

"This is *it*. I came this way. We've got to *get* to them. ... Sir." Lieutenant Tobolo's voice trembled with emotion as she spoke.

Jack turned her to face him. "You're sure?"

"Yes, sir." She reached into the bush nearest her and pulled out a scrap of material. "See. This came from my shirt, sir."

O'Neill wasted no more time. "Teal'c, Feretti, you're with me. Samuels, find out where that rescue squad is. Tobolo, you stay here, wait on the paramedics."

"Colonel, no ... please, sir. You'll need me to get back to them." The young woman's eyes pleaded with the SG-1 commander.

Jack took in her appearance in one quick sweep. Her hands were shaking, her face was pale, and beads of sweat pooled on her brow. Closer examination noted the firm set of her jaw, and the look of determination in her fevered eyes. Shaking his head, he responded softly. "Lieutenant. Stay here. Wait on the paramedics."

"But I can take you str... Sir, you'll get there faster..."

"If you stay here." His voice was firm, and held a hint of mild reproach. "Lieutenant, I need you to tell the paramedics what they might be dealing with on that cliff." He didn't mention that she looked pretty bad herself. "Now about how far back is the cliff?"

"Less than a mile, sir. I estimated from the rock face that this road was about a mile away, but I definitely had not been a mile when I found it. And they found me." She frowned at the memory.

"Excellent." He nodded for Teal'c and Feretti to precede him into the woods. Teal'c took the lead, looking carefully for signs of Tobolo's previous journey. "You did good, Lieutenant, but it's our turn now." Turning, he followed the other men into the woods, this time leaving Carin Tobolo behind.

****************

"Well, Colonel, I'm waiting for an explanation." Hammond's tone was harsh, but he was not yet truly angry.

Maybourne smiled nervously. "Sorry, sir, you know that my methods of operation cannot be revealed to anyone."

"Colonel, I want to know about this place and the men who kidnapped Dr. Jackson. Who are they? Hell, *where* are they?"

"I'm not at liberty to say, sir. Perhaps the General should be content with the news that Dr. Jackson is safe, and unharmed."

"I'd hardly call having what amounts to a really long straw shoved down your nose, unharmed, Colonel."

"I only meant that he was alive, and didn't even need surgery this time."

"What is *that* supposed to mean?"

"I meant no disrespect to Dr. Jackson, but he does seem, shall we say, somewhat accident prone."

Hammond thought briefly of countering Maybourne's assertion, but realized quickly that it would serve no purpose, and was pointless. Daniel Jackson did indeed visit the infirmary quite often, but that was a price to be expected when you were part of a first contact team. No, it was obvious to the General that Maybourne was trying to sidetrack him. "What's your game, Maybourne?"

"Sir?"

"Colonel, I did *not* get these stars by accident. You *found* Dr. Jackson so quickly because you already knew who had him. Hell, I'm betting you already knew where he was being held."

Maybourne's face paled, but remained emotionally neutral. "If you say so, sir."

"I *do* say so, Colonel. I also say that because of your negligence, he might easily have died. And *that* I take very, very personally."

"Yes, sir. I am really not at liberty to discuss the incident with Dr. Jackson. Might I suggest, General, that you discuss this *situation* with my superiors."

"*Incident!* *Situation!*" Hammond was now furious. "Trust me, Colonel, I *will* be speaking with your superiors as soon as possible." The General turned and stalked out of the cell, oblivious to the small, satisfied smile that played briefly over Maybourne's lips as he followed him from the room.

*************

It took an eternity to backtrack Lieutenant Tobolo's trail or so Jack thought. As they reached the rise in the cliff, Jack moved forward to take the lead in the climb. A dark hand rested firmly on his arm. "Colonel O'Neill."

Jack tried to shrug off the Jaffa's grip. "Let me go, Teal'c, we don't have any time to waste."

"Indeed. That is why I must lead the way."

"Teal'c I'm black ops trained. I can climb this in my sleep."

"You are growing tired, O'Neill?"

"No, I, uh, just meant that I know what I'm doing."

"O'Neill. To you this is a cliff, correct?"

"Well, yes."

"The children of my world train on such a climb as this one. It is considered ... small."

Jack glanced from the Jaffa to the height rising above him and back to the Jaffa. "Small?"

"Yes."

A choked off chuckle caused Jack to glare momentarily at Feretti. Returning his attention to Teal'c, he surrendered. "By all means, Teal'c. We'll follow your lead."

**************

Reicher waited impatiently in his luxury helicopter. The pilot nervously kept an eye on the gauges, frowning as the wind speeds increased at the top of the mountain. "Sir, the wind's picking up. We've got to go."

"Not without Samantha Carter."

"Sir..."

"I said *no*."

The pilot sighed in resignation, then turned his attention to his radio. He listened for a moment, then turned to his passenger. "Sir, you need to pick up the headset, sir."

Reicher frowned as he positioned the headset. "Reicher. Do you have her? ... WHAT! How? Never mind. How soon? ... Fine. You know where to meet? ... Excellent, then leave." Yanking the headset from his ear, he leaned forward. "Take off. Now."

Startled, but relieved, at this change of plans, the pilot jumped into action. The helicopter rose smoothly away from the still burning house. Reicher watched as a humvee pulled into his former yard and smiled as the military personnel glared skyward in dismay. Leaning back in his plush leather seat, he closed his eyes and settled back to enjoy the flight.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 32

O'Neill watched as Teal'c disappeared from view. By mutual agreement, the Jaffa would free-hand up the mountain while O'Neill and Feretti took a little extra time tapping the pitons into the side of the mountain. The rescue crew would need them, and pre-positioning would hopefully save them time. Time which Jack feared was running short for Samantha Carter. Feretti led the way, successfully arguing that the Colonel had a nasty knot on his head so how did he know if his vision was okay, and besides, the pitons were from Feretti's personal stock. Jack could only grin at that. "Never knew you to be so possessive, Major."

The young Major glanced down, grinning briefly at the Colonel. "Have you *priced* these things lately, Colonel?"

*************

Teal'c reached the small ledge where Naomi Ramirez had been located in what amounted to record time for an Earth climb. He needed only a quick look at the open space between the ledge and the tree to determine the handholds that the two women had used to reach Major Carter. Ramirez turned her head, her eyes growing impossibly wide as she spotted the Jaffa. A smile like sunshine lit up her face as Teal'c reached her. "Oh, thank God, Mr. Teal'c. The Major's really sick."

The man placed a gentle hand on Sam's face, taking note of the fever that burned within her body. He was also quick to notice the blush of embarrassment on the young Airman's face. It took a moment longer for the Jaffa to ascertain the reason. Teal'c carefully positioned himself on the slope, slid out of his light jacket, and handed it to the grateful young woman. "Thank you, sir," She eyed his muscles underneath his black tank top as she admitted. "I *was* getting a little chilly. Didn't know it could be this cool in the summer."

Teal'c nodded. "We are very high."

"Will she be all right, sir? She's so hot. I tried to keep her warm, but..."

"You have done well, Airman. Samantha Carter will soon be safely back among her friends."

The girl nodded, not realizing that the Jaffa had made no comment on the state of Sam's health.

A male voice reached them from across the clearing. "Teal'c, how are they?"

"They are ready to come down, O'Neill. Perhaps Major Feretti could assist Airman Ramirez?"

"I can make it to them by myself, sir." The young woman responded quickly.

Teal'c reached forward and touched her face. "I am certain that you can, Airman, but there is no need. Allow them the honor of assisting you."

***************

Jack O'Neill watched as Teal'c and Feretti escorted the young Airman down the mountain. Both Ramirez and Tobolo had done well, very well, and he'd see to it that a commendation was entered into their records. He'd added his own jacket to Ramirez's shirt as an additional layer of warmth for Sam. Unnoticed by him, her eyes fluttered open. She saw him through a haze, and gasped slightly in fear. His head turned quickly back to her, and his hand came to rest on her shoulder. "Easy, Major. You're safe. Or will be soon. The rescue squad's on the way."

"C..Colonel?" Her voice was weak with relief.

"In the flesh."

"Tobolo, Ramirez?"

"They're safe, Major. They're both safe."

"Thank God." She closed her eyes briefly.

"How about you?"

"N..nothing's broken, but I t..think..."

"Think what, Sam?"

"I..I think..."

"Yes?"

"T..that I'm not pregnant now." Her voice trembled as she whispered her thoughts.

The sorrow in her voice both concerned and surprised O'Neill. "This is bad how?"

"It wasn't the baby's fault, Jack. He shouldn't have had to die." Tears began to stream down her face.

O'Neill winced at the pain in her voice. Empathy for what she'd endured these past few days filled his being, along with anger at the perpetrators. Not knowing what else to do or say, he slipped closer to her, and gently stroked her hair. "Just rest, Sam, help will be here soon."

"S..sorry." Her voice faded into a whisper as her eyes began to close.

Smiling sadly, the Colonel continued to stroke her hair, easing her into sleep. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Sam. Nothing at all."

******************

Janet smiled at the recumbent form of Daniel Jackson, now sleeping in the safety of *her* infirmary. The endoscope examination had revealed only superficial erosions and inflammation, although it probably hurt like hell. And given Daniel's already stressed system, it was no wonder the young man had been so frightened. The doctor thanked God profusely that the concentration of liquid hadn't been too high. A stronger mix would have left deep burns below the surface on the sensitive mucosa. She shuddered at the thought of the complications of *that* ... blistering, swelling to the point of posing a danger to respiration, and other much worse complications crossed her mind. Angrily, she silently berated herself. 'Didn't happen, Fraiser. Get a grip. He's gonna be fine. Where the hell are the women? God, are they okay? Please let them be okay.'

The intercom calling her name pulled her back from her thoughts. "Fraiser."

"Ma'am, we've gotten word that Major Carter, Lieutenant Tobolo, and Airman Ramirez have been found."

"Alive?" She cursed under her breath as she realized her hands were shaking.

"Yes, Ma'am. The Lieutenant's being transported now. The paramedics say she's having a miscarriage, ma'am."

"What about the Major and Ramirez?"

"Don't know, Ma'am. I'll keep you posted when I get word."

"Thank you, Sergeant."

Janet leaned her head against the wall and enjoyed a scant moment of relief, then turned to her crew. "Incoming wounded, people. Armstrong, Miller, you're with me."

*******************

Jack was still stroking Sam's hair when the rescue squad reached their location. "Sir, you'll need to move, please. We've got to get to her."

The Colonel nodded and slipped to the opposite side of the tree. "She fell."

"Yes, sir, we know."

"She probably had a miscarriage."

"Yes, sir, we know that too."

"She's running a fever."

The two rescue personnel exchanged a quick glance. "Yes, sir. ... Colonel, we'll get her down."

"What can I do to help?" Jack watched Sam's pale face anxiously.

"Nothing, sir. Thank you. We've got it under control."

"But..."

"Colonel. We get people off the mountain all the time. This particular rescue will be pretty routine. Don't worry, sir, we'll get her down safely."

Feeling as helpless as he'd ever felt, Jack nodded, and settled reluctantly into the role of observer.



----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 33

Colonel Jack O'Neill arrived back at the SGC dirty, exhausted and with a really bad headache. The bump on his head had gone from the size of a hummingbird egg to an ostrich egg in a matter of hours. Or at least it felt that way whenever he absently touched it. To make matters worse, no one would tell him how *anyone* was. He'd been relegated to a curtained off compartment for examination, but as a low priority case had been told he'd have to wait. His one attempt to escape his confinement had been met and countered by a furious Janet Fraiser. The petite doctor had backed him into the cubicle, and explained in no uncertain terms that this was *her* infirmary and if he thought that *he* was going to disrupt its flow today, she'd put him out and do his annual physical, two months early, and when was the last time he'd had an enema? Under normal circumstances, he would've pulled rank on the doctor, but there'd been something in her eyes that told him he'd be a fool to cross her today. And Jack O'Neill was no fool.

Satisfied that O'Neill would give her no trouble where her patients were concerned, Janet turned on her heel to leave, then froze as she heard the Colonel quietly mumble something about Daniel. Turning back to face him, she pointed an index finger at his face. "And Daniel's finally asleep, so just let him rest." She watched, amazed as all the color drained from Jack O'Neill's face. Concerned, she asked quickly. "Colonel? Are you all right?"

"D..Daniel's here? In the infirmary?"

It was Janet's turn to go ghost pale. "OH GOD, Colonel. I am so sorry. I thought you knew. Daniel was found and returned to the SGC probably about the same time you were on that cliff with Sam, uh, Major Carter."

"Maybourne actually *found* him?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"He's alive?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"He's gonna live?"

"Yes, Colonel."

"What happened to him? ... This time?"

"Hydrogen peroxide poisoning, but before you react, he really will be fine. He's got a very inflamed throat. No burns, thank God, but it's raw enough that he's going to be eating pureed food for a while and going without coffee..."

"Where is he?" This time it was Jack's voice which would not be denied.

Janet pulled the curtain aside. "Andrea?"

"Yes, Doctor Fraiser?"

"Take Colonel O'Neill to Dr. Jackson."

"Yes, Ma'am. Follow me, please, Colonel."

************

"Yes, General Williams. I understand your position. I do not agree with the decision, but I do understand the awkward position you were placed in. ... Yes, Colonel Maybourne will be returning to Area 51 shortly." Hammond resisted the urge to slam the handset into the receiver, choosing instead to reward the visiting Colonel with his best glare. Maybourne simply returned one of his infuriating smirks. "Colonel, I now understand that you were only following orders, but..."

"Thank you, sir."

"I'm not through, Colonel. I would strongly suggest that you take your staff and vacate these premises *before* Colonel O'Neill gets wind of your duplicity."

"O'Neill may be a walking advertisement for testosterone, but even he would not physically attack another officer."

"Colonel Maybourne, I have tolerated your arrogant attitude long enough. Colonel O'Neill would *never* stoop so low as to strike you, whatever the provocation. Dismissed, Colonel."

Maybourne saluted and quickly left Hammond's office, not hearing the General mutter under his breath. "Strike you ... no, shoot you ... yes."

*************

Jack followed the nurse across the infirmary, pausing to do a visual check for Major Carter. Seeing several closed off cubicles, and a few more occupied but not by the Major, he had to ask. "Captain, where's Major Carter?"

"She's in X-Ray, sir."

"Do you, uh, know, uh,?" His voice faded away as he tried to decide how best to ask the question.

"I'm not at liberty to divulge anything more than she's resting comfortably, sir."

"Oh, of course. I, uh, understand."

"I'm sure Dr. Fraiser will brief you as soon as possible. Here you are, sir." She pushed back a curtain allowing Jack his first view of Daniel. Anger swelled to overflowing in the Colonel, but he managed to nod politely to the nurse before slipping inside the cubicle.

He watched her leave, then closed the curtain. Turning back to the bed, he smiled as he saw a pair of almost alert blue eyes watching his every move. "Sam? The others?"

"Alive. We got to them in time."

"Good."

"How are you?"

"How do I look?"

"Like hell warmed over."

"That's how I feel." Daniel sighed, then added dramatically. "I *can't* have coffee."

"I know."

"For at least a week."

"I see."

"A *week*, Jack."

"I heard you."

"I found it, Jack."

For once O'Neill knew where the conversation was heading, his guilt over not quite believing Daniel had been plaguing him for what seemed an eternity. "So did we."

Daniel's eyes opened impossibly wide. "You *did*?"

"Yes."

"We?"

"Teal'c and I. Also, the General knows, as does ... Maybourne. And I almost forgot Private Clark down in Imaging."

"So lotsa people know that Harcisus is real?"

"Yes."

Daniel tried to control a yawn. "It won't be forgotten?"

"No, Daniel. You have my word. Go back to sleep."

"'kay." The younger man's eyes closed as he mumbled something under his breath.

"What was that, Daniel?" Jack asked, concerned that the younger man would worry in his sleep, if an important question was not answered. He had to lean close to hear the barely intelligible words.

"...too .. many .. Clarks."

*************

Jack slipped quietly out of the cubicle housing the once again sleeping archaeologist, his eyes landing almost immediately on Samantha Carter, as the gurney bearing her immobile form returned from the X-ray unit. His pace slowed as he watched Janet hurry to meet it. Jack turned in mid-stride, moving on an interception course. Janet caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye, and turned, frowning. Holding up a hand, she shook her head and mouthed, 'Not just yet, Colonel', then she pointed a finger toward one of the examination areas. He stopped in his tracks, every fiber of his being wanted to speak to Sam once more. Nodding his reluctant agreement with Janet's edict, and thinking his headache really was *much* better, he absently moved in the direction she'd indicated. As he passed the door, he was saluted rather halfheartedly by an older Master Sergeant. "Colonel."

"Sergeant." Jack returned the casual salute, "You're one of Maybourne's men, aren't you?"

"Not for long, sir. I've requested a transfer, as soon as possible."

"Indeed." Jack's verbal response covered quickly the mental 'can't blame you' that he really wanted to say. "As you were, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir. Colonel, could you tell me where Dr. Jackson is?"

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I'd like to offer him a personal apology."

"For finding him too late to prevent an injury?" Jack's tone was harsh.

"No, sir. For not checking behind the ... lieutenant ... when he made the coffee."

"Coffee? Sergeant, Daniel is sleeping now, but I'd like to know what you're talking about."

"The Lieutenant picked up a jug of Hydrogen Peroxide that he *thought* was bottled water, and used it to make coffee for Dr. Jackson. We'd been told how much he likes it."

"He was hurt *after* he was rescued?" Jack was horrified.

"Sir? Oh, no, sir. He was injured while in protective custody. That's one reason I'm transferring. Colonel Maybourne didn't follow standard procedures, and Dr. Jacks... Sir, are you all right?"

Jack just stared at the man, unable to utter even a sarcastic remark.

"Colonel? Should I get someone?" The Sergeant started to summon a nurse, when an iron grip on his wrist stopped him.

"That ... won't be necessary, Sergeant." Jack took a few deep breaths. "Why don't you check back in about two hours. Daniel may be awake by then."

"Uh, yes, sir. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Sergeant. Just fine." With a murderous glint in his eye, O'Neill left the infirmary, leaving a bemused Master Sergeant once again reaffirming his belief that *all* officers were a little off.



----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 34

The journey to General Hammond's office had *never* taken this long in the past. Jack was stopped every thirty seconds or so by well-wishers congratulating him on the rescue of the three women. No one mentioned Daniel, so Jack could only assume that they'd saved their congratulations for ... *him*. Jack couldn't even bring himself to *think* the name. 'Protective custody.' Ha! What a joke. Whisking Daniel out of the complex in the middle of the night, probably unconscious since Jack *knew* Daniel wouldn't have gone without telling him. He paused in his thoughts. Unless Daniel *thought* Jack knew, thought that his friends were in *agreement* with the arrangement. For all Jack knew, *M-a-y-b-o-u-r-n-e* might have told Daniel it was Jack's idea. No, that didn't work. Daniel was anything but stupid, and Jack knew his young friend wouldn't trust that *man* any further than he could throw him. Although, since he'd been working out with Jack, that was probably further than Maybourne would have realized. An image of an irate Daniel Jackson hurling an astounded Colonel Maybourne into a wall brought a small smile to O'Neill's tense features. The older man shook his head to clear his thoughts. No, Daniel wouldn't do that, it wasn't in the younger man's nature to commit an act so violent, even on a slime ball like Maybourne. No, if Maybourne was going to get thrown into a wall, or better yet, through a wall, Jack would have to do it. Visions of the hole Maybourne's body would leave danced in Jack's head as he took the spiral staircase to the briefing room in search of the General.

***********

"Excuse me, Mr. Teal'c?" Naomi Ramirez timidly approached the Jaffa as he meditated in the small waiting room / chapel.

"Teal'c."

"Sir?"

"It is simply Teal'c, Airman Ramirez. A title is unnecessary."

"Oh. ... Yes, sir. Has there been any news? No one in there," she nodded toward the busy infirmary, "will tell me anything."

Teal'c shook his head. "I know no more than when I arrived here, Airman. Have you been examined yet?"

She smiled. "I've been given a quick once over by a PA. Mild exposure, cuts, scrapes, nervous tremors. Nothing that won't be cleared up by some antibiotics, a good night's sleep, and a hug."

Teal'c's eyebrow raised slightly. "Indeed."

Naomi blushed. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that out loud. I was just hoping Dr. Fraiser would let me go home. I..I want to see Brad."

"Your husband?" Teal'c asked politely.

"Oh, no, sir. At least, not yet, but maybe one day. If he'll have me." Her blushed deepened and she ducked her head in embarrassment.

A strong hand lifted her head, forcing her to meet his eyes. "Brad should consider it an honor to have a wife such as you, Airman Ramirez."

"You think so, sir?"

"I do, Airman."

"Thank you, sir. And sir?"

"Yes, Airman?"

"Please, call me Naomi."

***********

Janet slipped quietly into the curtained off compartment, and stood still, unwilling to disturb its occupant. Carin Tobolo's back was to the doctor, and Janet couldn't help but notice the young woman's shoulders were shaking slightly. "Lieutenant?"

Carin rolled over quickly, wiping her eyes as she did so. "Sorry, ma'am, I seem to be allergic to something in here."

"Let's not play *that* game, shall we?"

Carin gulped, and batted her eyelids wildly. "Dammit. I..I promised myself that I wouldn't do this."

"You've been through a lot. Anyone would be upset."

"Well, I'm not anyone. I'm a First Lieutenant in the US Air Force, dammit."

"And this means you're not supposed to *feel* anything?"

"It means, ma'am, that I'm supposed to maintain a professional attitude at *all* times. I don't have time to be emotional." The woman turned her head away from the doctor once more.

Janet sank down onto the bed. "Carin, look at me."

A choked sob was accompanied by a frantic shake of her head.

Janet sighed. "Lieutenant, that was *not* a request."

Carin reluctantly turned over once more and glared through her tears at Janet.

"That's better. Carin, you don't check your feelings at the recruiting office. You may grow up a little more, or maybe even a lot, after *that* experience, but your emotions will always be there. You, all of you, have been through a great deal in the past few days. And to top everything off, you've had a miscarriage, which is a painful and traumatic experience."

"But I was going to have an abortion, I think. Why would a miscarriage bother me so much?"

"Possibly because the choice was taken from you, Carin. You need to talk to someone, in confidence, about everything that's happened to you and I get the impression that you'd rather speak to someone whom you won't run into on a daily basis at the SGC."

Carin looked relieved. "Yes, ma'am. I..I think I would."

"Fine. I'll make the arrangements. In the meantime, your SG-8 teammates are in the hall. Feel up to seeing them?"

"*Yes* ma'am!"

**************

Jack knocked on General Hammond's door, hard. He barely waited on the 'come' before entering.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"Sir, it's come to my attention that *Colonel* Maybourne didn't rescue Daniel. He was actually responsible for Daniel's abduction."

"And where did you get this information, Colonel?"

"One of Maybourne's men told me. He also told me that Daniel was almost killed *accidently* because of Maybourne's stupidity."

Hammond looked surprised. "He *said* that?"

"Well, not in so many words, but ..."

"I see. Well, Colonel, not that you apparently ever doubted your source's words, but he was quite accurate. Maybourne took Dr. Jackson into protective custody."

"*Some* protection. General, Daniel could've died."

"I understand that, Colonel. It was a regrettable accident."

"Yeah, well, I'm betting Maybourne didn't regret it."

"Colonel!"

"Sorry, sir." Jack did not sound particularly penitent. "And, sir, don't forget that he deliberately pretended not to know what had happened to Daniel. He *lied* to us, sir."

"He was under orders, Colonel."

"From who?"

"His commanding officer at Area 51, and he in turn had orders, etc. etc."

"Special. I'd still like to *talk* with him, sir."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Colonel."

Jack O'Neill stood with hands on hips, glaring at General Hammond. "You *let* him *leave*, Sir?"

"Colonel, I understand how you feel, but..."

"Begging the General's pardon, but do you want to rip Colonel Maybourne's lungs out through his nostrils?"

"No."

"Then you don't know how I feel."

The long-buried civilian part of George Hammond agreed with the Colonel, but his military self couldn't allow that other self to show. "Enough, Colonel. You do not, and I repeat, *not* have a score to settle with Colonel Maybourne."

"Sir!"

"I'm not kidding, Colonel O'Neill."

"Yes, sir."

Hammond stared into Jack's eyes, his own promising dire consequences if his orders were not followed. "Fine, Colonel. Have you been medically declared fit?"

"Uh, not yet, Sir."

"Then I suggest you head back to the infirmary and get cleared. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir!" Thwarted on all fronts, Jack turned to leave.

"Oh, and Colonel?"

"Yes, sir?"

"SG-1's on stand-down until cleared by Dr. Fraiser. Take the time, Colonel. All of you need it."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."



----------------------------------------------------------------------

part - 35

Two weeks later:

Jack O'Neill paused at a fork in the mountain trail, and listened. The sound of the 9mm semi-automatic was unmistakable. The direction the shots were coming from, well, *that* was another matter. Decision made, he took the left fork, and smiled slightly as the sound of the weapon grew increasingly loud. Moving quickly and quietly around a small copse of trees, he paused at the sight of Samantha Carter reloading her weapon. He waited patiently as she emptied another clip into the target hanging from a tree limb. When she finally lowered the gun, he asked casually. "Feeling better?"

Whirling, her face went from white to red to white again in a matter of seconds. Glaring at her commanding officer, she snapped. "If *that* woman asks me *one* more time 'how does *that* make you feel', I'm gonna use her head for a punching bag." Turning back to the target, she stalked toward it and angrily yanked the paper bulls-eye from its holder, and inserted another in its place, all the while keeping her back to the Colonel.

"Dr. Laurens?" Jack hazarded an educated guess.

"*YES!* Why the hell I had to get *her* is beyond me? I'd have rather talked to Mackensie, at least he'd have the decency not to *pretend* to know how... Okay, so she's a woman. Big deal! She's probably never even had sex, much less... I mean, what the hell could she possibly know about, about..." She quickly changed tack. "Dammit, I'll bet she's frigid."

Jack's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline as she spoke, but he wisely kept his cool. "Ya think?"

The familiar retort had the desired effect, as the color returned to her face, in the form of a blush, and her tone became more Sam-like. She turned but couldn't meet his eyes as she replied softly. "I'm sorry, sir. I'm being stupid."

Jack shook his head. "No, not stupid. Human."

"Yeah, right ... sir. I don't feel human." Sam reached in her pocket for another clip, only to find that her weapon had been deftly removed from her hand.

"No one who's ever been violated," Jack cringed inwardly as he saw her wince in reaction, "ever thinks they'll feel human again."

"Colonel, I *really* need the practice. Didn't get the bull's eye once." Sam desperately tried to change the subject.

"Not surprising since you weren't looking at the target. And no, the gun stays with me, Major."

The use of her title told her in no uncertain terms that she'd lost the battle. "How'd you find me?"

"Daniel..."

"Has a big mouth."

"He cares about you, Sam. We all do."

"How'd he know?"

Jack smiled. "He was having his throat checked again, when your session with Dr. Laurens ended. 'Not a pretty picture.' ... His words."

"Oh. But how..."

"Did I know to come here? I *am* your commanding officer, Carter. Where else would you go?"

"The local bar?"

"*Not* your style."

She turned and stared blindly at the new target. Her voice was a mere whisper. "I wish it was him. Is that *so* very wrong, Colonel, to wish I was pumping lead into *him*?"

"Not from my perspective, but Daniel might have other ideas."

She continued as if he'd never spoken. "The amnio came back on Airman Ramirez. Her baby's father is her boyfriend. They're getting married in two weeks."

Jack leaned casually against a nearby tree but wisely remained silent.

"And Lieutenant Tobolo is back on duty with no ill effects from *her* miscarriage."

"She's seeing Dr. Laurens, too." Jack added softly. "As is Ramirez."

"I know. I..It's just that..." Sam turned back to glare in the general direction of the Colonel. "How dare *they*? How dare they *do* that to us... to *me*. Have you read *Howard's* journals?" Jack nodded, surprised that Carter had been allowed to peruse their contents. Maybourne must be slipping. "They just *assumed* they had the right to do as they pleased, in the name of science. What a crock! And to think that Howard got me, put that, did... Oh, never mind."

"Did what, Sam?"

"N..Nothing."

Seizing her chin in his hand, he forced her to meet his eyes. "No! Not nothing. It was very much something. He violated you and initiated a pregnancy that was beyond your control. Howard and Reicher *used* you, just like they used Tobolo, and tried to use Ramirez."

"I'd feel better if Reicher was in custody."

Jack read the 'or dead' in her eyes as plainly as if the words had appeared in print. "I just wish you'd been able to identify him. But, he'll be found. Maybourne's leading the investigation."

"Well, *that's* a comforting thought."

The Colonel barely managed to turn his laugh into a snicker. "Yeah, isn't it?"

She shivered suddenly. "I still get the shakes just thinking about what Howard ... did."

"I understand. But he's dead, Sam, he can't hurt you any more

"Except in my dreams." Her softly spoken words pierced his heart.

"Only if you let him."

"How do I stop him?" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"You can start by saying 'no'."

"No?"

"Yes. No. No, I will not let him win. I will not let him control my life. I will *not* live every day in fear of the likes of him."

"Am I doing that? Living in fear, I mean?"

"Aren't you? Isn't that why you stay on base almost all the time? I know from the logs, that you haven't been back to your apartment for more than a couple of hours at a time since Janet let you out of the infirmary."

"I...I." She sighed heavily. "You're right, you know."

"Ya think?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I think, but I'm not *real* sure." She glanced at the target once more, then turned to Jack. "Take me home?"

"I would be honored."

**********

"Heidi, are you *insane*?" Heads turned to stare at the pretty blond's overly loud exclamation.

"Shh, Greta, not so loud. We *are* at a sidewalk café." Her companion blushed with embarrassment at her friend's outburst.

Greta promptly lowered her voice. "I cannot believe you'd even consider that, that old man's proposition. He gives me the creeps."

"He's okay. He's just lonely. And the fifty thousand American dollars combined with that scholarship will pay for college in the States."

"But still..."

"He's all alone, Greta. His wife died years ago. As did his daughter and her husband. His grandson and his wife were all the family he had left, and they were killed in a horrible accident. You can see the pain in his eyes when he speaks of them."

"But, I still..."

"I've already signed the papers. Money upon delivery. Until then ...," the girl paused, and glanced around nervously. "I admit I'm a little scared, but fifty thousand is a lot of money. And I have to believe it's God's will."

"What?"

"Well, what else *could* it be, with the grandson and his wife storing frozen embryos, just in case they couldn't conceive when they finally got ready to have children?"

The End?


RETURN TO:

Home Page

Table of Contents