Fortnight

By

Denise

Sam slowly opened her eyes, staring for a few seconds as she struggled to understand just what she was seeing.

A flat gray expanse spread out in front of her and she realized she was lying on the floor. She pushed herself up, closing here eyes against the pounding in her head. After a few seconds, she opened her eyes and frowned when the room looked familiar.

"What the hell?" she breathed, recognizing the confines of an SGC holding cell. She got to her feet and staggered towards the door, dizziness forcing her to use the wall to keep from falling.

She tried the door and it opened into the hallway. She looked, surprised to find the corridor empty. Her instincts drove her towards the gateroom and she made her way towards the elevator.

Paranoia clawed at her brain and she wondered if it was some sort of trap. This wasn't right. Something…it just wasn't right.

The elevator door opened and Sam stopped, suddenly aware that she was vulnerable in there. She turned from the elevator and stumbled towards the stairs. The walls shifted drunkenly and she closed her eyes for a second, her fingers splayed against the wall to steady herself.

She opened her eyes and pushed forward, slipping into the stairwell. She fumbled down the stairs, grateful that she didn't need to go up. There was no way in hell she'd make it.

She nearly slid down the twelve flights of stairs, stopping to sit down a couple of times when she felt like she was going to pass out.

She finally reached the bottom and paused for a moment at the door, taking a couple of deep breaths to try and clear her head. She slowly opened the door, frowning when the corridor was just as empty as the one on level sixteen.

"Where in the hell is everyone?" she asked, her low voice echoing off the cement walls. She made her way towards the conference room, her slow footsteps the only sound she heard. She slipped into the conference room, sighing in relief when she saw that the iris was still closed. Oddly, she couldn't quite pin down just why that was so important, but knew that it was. A quick glance confirmed that General Hammond's office was empty and she looked towards the stairs. Instinct led her towards the control room, which she also found empty, lights and screens blinking their messages to no one.

She stepped towards the main computer and stopped, something inside wouldn't let her take another step, touch a keyboard.

Panic welled up in her chest and her head pounded so fiercely that she swore it felt like it was pulsing on her shoulders. Wrong. It was wrong. This was bad. So bad.

Orange light.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Fear.

Flashes of memory assailed her brain and she raised her hands to cradle her pounding head.

"Carter? What the hell is going on?"

Fear coursed through her chest and her eyes flew open. Her CO stood there, openly concerned, which did nothing to calm the terror she felt.

"Carter?" He frowned and stepped towards her. "What's wrong?"

Words failed her as the pounding in her brain finally drove her over the edge and she slipped to the floor, mercifully unconscious.

::::::::::

Jack stared for half a second before his training overrode his shock and he reached out, slamming his palm onto the alarm before hurrying across the room. Dozens of questions raced through his brain. Where was everyone? The control room was never, NEVER left unattended. And what the hell was going on with his captain? She certainly wasn't the fainting type, not to mention that she'd looked scared to death.

Jack knelt beside her, reaching out to check her pulse. The faint, regular beat under his fingertips reassured him, but not by much. She looked like she was on the wrong side of a week long forced march. Her uniform was rumpled and dirty. Her skin was pale and her hair looked greasy and unkempt.

Jack heard footsteps pounding down the hall and he turned to see two SF's running into the room, their weapons drawn. "Sir?"

"I don't know," Jack said. "Secure that station." He gestured towards the main computer. "No one uses the gate until we find out what's going on here."

One of the SF's sat at the station and moved the mouse to activate the computer. "Sir, this computer is locked out," he said. Jack nodded and gestured towards the other one. "Same here," the man said after trying the second computer.

Jack left Carter's side and bent over the station, typing in his login. The computer blinked back a refusal and Jack frowned, typing it in again, this time slower. Again it was rejected. He moved to the other station and tried again, still getting the same result.

"You go find Walter, get his ass down here," he ordered one of the SF's. "And you get down to the infirmary and find out where the hell medical is."

"Yes, sir," the men answered, hurrying off to carry out Jack's order. Confident that the gate was secure, Jack turned his attention back to Carter. She was still unconscious and that concerned him. "Come on, Carter, nap time is over," he said, tapping her face gently. She remained stubbornly unconscious. After what felt like an eternity, Jack again heard people coming. The SF returned, two medical techs trailing at his heels.

"Sir, what happened?" one of them asked as Jack stepped back to allow them to work.

"She just passed out," Jack said as they checked her vitals.

"We need to get her to the infirmary, sir."

"Go," Jack said.

The two techs carried Carter from the room just as General Hammond walked into the room, Walter at his side. "Sir," Jack said.

"Colonel." The general paused. "I seem to be at a loss, Colonel," he confessed.

"That makes two of us," Jack said. "Three," he corrected at Walter's frown. Jack gestured at the computers. "Computer's locked out," he said. Walter sat down and began to type. "Gate's secure but…honestly, General, I have no idea what's going on."

"Pull up the logs, Sargent," Hammond ordered.

"Umm, I can't sir," Walter said, turning to look at him. He held his hands up helplessly. "I can't get in."

"What do you mean you can't get in?" Hammond asked.

"Sir, I've tried every password I know, including a few I shouldn't probably know, none of them work."

"What the Sam Hill is going on here?"

He turned to O'Neill. "Get some SF's. I want a level by level search," Hammond ordered.

"Sir."

Jack left the room, rounding up able bodied men as he went. By the time he reached the armory, he had half a dozen SF's and they made short work of the search, finding nothing more threatening than dozens of befuddled men.

"What?" Jack asked, escorting a confused scientist out of one of one of the labs to find two of the SF's whispering to each other.

"Sorry, sir it's just…"

"Spit it out, airman," Jack said.

"There ain't no ladies," another SF said. "We know these labs, sir. We patrol them all the time."

"We call it the chicken coop," another piped up.

"Chicken coop?" Jack asked.

"There's one male scientist, the other four are ladies. You got the rooster but…where's the hens?"

"Rooster?" the scientist said. "I don't get it."

"Colonel O'Neill to the infirmary," he heard over the loud speaker.

Jack nodded towards the scientist. "Maybe they all had the day off," he said. "Keep going. You're in command, sergeant," he said. "Check in with the infirmary when you get there."

"Yes, sir."

Jack made his way to the elevator and it was a short ride to level 21. He got out of the car, frowning at the sight of a small group of people clustered outside the infirmary. "What's going on?" he asked one of the men out in the hall.

"The captain's freaked out. She's holding people at bay with a scalpel."

Jack pushed past the man and into the infirmary, shocked to see Carter at the back of the room, the deadly sharp medical blade in her hands.

"Carter, what the hell are you doing?" Jack asked, stepping towards her.

"Stay away from me!" she shouted.

"Captain, why don't you put down the knife and we can talk," Jack said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"I've had enough of your 'talking'" she said. "Where is she?"

Jack frowned and glanced around. "Apparently not here. Look, Carter, I have no idea what's going on right now. Maybe, if you put down that knife, we can have a chat and figure it out."

"NO! You're not going to trick me. I'm not telling you anything."

"I'm not trying to trick you," he said, concerned at the near manic madness in her eyes.

"Liar! You're just doing what she tells you to do." Her eyes darted past him, searching for someone. "What? Is she waiting out in the hall?"

"Did you hit your head?" Jack asked. "There is no she."

"DON'T LIE!" she yelled, using her left hand to sweep some instruments off a cart towards him. "I'm not telling you anything. You and that bitch can go to hell!"

Jack watched her eyes drift down, settling on the scalpel and a cold feeling knotted in his gut. He'd seen that level of desperation before, and it rarely ended well.

"That's ENOUGH, Captain!" he yelled, startling her. "I ORDER you to put that knife down."

She was startled for a second and looked at him before shaking her head. "No," she said softly. "You can tell Hathor that she's leaving this base over my dead body."

"Hathor? There is no snakehead on this base," Jack said. She shook her head in denial. "Carter, if there was a goa'uld on this base, I'd know about it," Jack said.

"Apparently not."

Jack turned to see a very disheveled Doctor Frasier walk into the room. Her normally neat and proper dress replaced by a very wrinkled set of BDU's. Her hair was tangled and looked like it hadn't been washed in a week. Trailing behind her were the nurses, also looking rumpled and dirty. Finally two SF's and Teal'c brought up the rear.

"We found them locked up on level 16," the SF reported.

"Doc?"

"Hathor's here," she said. "She took over this base two weeks ago." She raked him up and down with a disgusted glare. "Largely because all of you followed her like lovesick puppies."

Jack frowned, the woman's unusual bluntness doing more to confirm her story than anything else. "Teal'c?"

"Doctor Frasier's recounting of events is accurate," he said. "This facility has indeed been infiltrated by a goa'uld. And her efforts were assisted by nearly every member of this command, including you."

"Why not you?" Jack asked.

"My symbiote provided me protection from her allure."

"She used pheromones, or something like it," Frasier said. "Every single male on this base fell under her spell."

"They still are," Sam said. "She's still here and they're still doing what she wants them to do."

"Look, Carter—"

"Colonel," Frasier interrupted. "If you're…feeling better now, why don't you go and find Hathor." She looked at him pointedly, her eyes telling him that she needed him to just go. "The captain and I have a little catching up to do."

Jack hesitated a second, then nodded. "Fine. Teal'c, why don't you stay here? Presuming that's okay with you, doc."