TITLE: Spearhead: Homefront Pt 2
AUTHOR: Andrew Seivewright
EMAIL: a.seivewright@btinternet.com
CATEGORY: action/adventure, future
SPOILERS:
SEASON / SEQUEL: Spearhead Trilogy; Spearhead: Evolution; Spearhead: Homefront Pt 1
RATING: PG
CONTENT WARNINGS: PG-13
SUMMARY: With the aid of Colonel Carter, NID has discovered that a Goa'uld has penetrated our defenses and taken over the President of the United States...a situation that NID plan to solve using extreme measures...
STATUS: Complete
ARCHIVE: Heliopolis, Spearhead Archive (www.geocities.com/dark_sider/Spearhead.html)
DISCLAIMER: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. We have written this story for entertainment purposes only and no money whatsoever has exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the authors. Not to be archived without permission of the authors.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hope y'all still enjoying the series? What can I say? I'm guilty of neglecting my creation greatly this past couple of months. Real life always seems to gobble up whatever time I set aside to get something written down. (Hangs head in shame.) Not only that but exciting developments in Stargate: SG-1 has caused me to go through several re-writes of this story in order to accommodate certain 'canon' plotlines, most notable of which is the X-303 'Prometheus'. Granted, Spearhead really doesn't resemble SG-1 much anymore but I still like to keep it recognizable to the fans of the show. Enough of my blather, read on and enjoy...and I will try to work faster!



Spearhead: Homefront - Part 2

Cast

Earth

Robert Kinsey President, United States
General Stuart Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, US Army
Lieutenant General Hammond CINC-SGC(West), Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado, USA
Dr Nancy Bridgeforth Surgeon General, United States
Major Dupre United Nations Security Force, USA
Harold Maybourne Ex-Colonel, Ex-NID rogue agent
Jonas Quinn Lead Scientist, SGC-Scientific Support Division

Spearhead

Brigadier General O'Neill CO of Spearhead
Colonel Carter 2IC
Dr Daniel Jackson Senior Cultural Liaison
Teal'c Assistant Cultural Liaison

Tok'ra

Selmak/Jacob Carter Tok'ra






Chapter 1
A Snake In The Grass


09:00 EDT
October 6th, 2005
SGC-West, Cheyenne Mountain

"INCOMING TRAVELLER!"

Lt General Hammond glanced at his watch and nodded. "Open the Iris!"

The Iris grated open to reveal the rippling surface of the event horizon. Numerous soldiers inside the Gate room tensed as three figures appeared through the wormhole and stepped onto the ramp. The wormhole disengaged and the soldiers relaxed marginally as they recognized their visitors. The main door to the Gate room opened up and Brigadier General O'Neill walked in, resplendent in his full dress uniform, shorn silver brown hair and neatly trimmed salt and pepper goatee.

"Welcome back, Daniel, Teal'c..." O'Neill greeted the trio with a grin. "Jacob...Selmak...it's good to see you again."

Jacob smiled wryly. "General rank suits you, Jack."

"Yeah well, it ain't all bad. I have a secretary who does all my paperwork nowadays leaving me free to concentrate on more important things." O'Neill replied.

Daniel snorted in amusement. "You mean catching up on the latest episodes of the Simpsons don't you?"

Teal'c raised a self-satisfied eyebrow, pleased at the opportunity to make the General squirm. "I understand Lt Ramirez has a lucrative 'black shop' operation back on Spearhead in couriered goods from Earth. Your taped episodes of Homer Simpson among them."

O'Neill, feeling more harassed by the second, raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, those tapes aren't for me. We have some rabid Simpson's fans on Spearhead and if I didn't get hold of some episodes, I'd probably have a full scale mutiny on my hands by the end of the month. And it's black 'MARKET', Teal'c..."

Jacob felt glad for the presence of the Selmak symbiote; for she allowed him to control his facial muscles so as not to reveal the bellyaching laugh he was desperately suppressing. "Well, O'Neill, it sounds like you've got you angles to being a General figured out..." He said, in a false disapproving manner.

O'Neill, shaking his head in amusement, led the small group out of the Gate Room and towards the Briefing Room. As Daniel and Teal'c resumed their conversation on some latest Tok'ra intelligence they had garnered while on the Tok'ra Base, Jacob fell into place next to O'Neill, who despite his outwardly relaxed appearance seemed tense to someone who could read the signs.

"How bad are things really, Jack?"

"Bad, Jacob. Kinsey been making noises of opposition about increased military funding for a while now and he was never a big fan of the Stargate Program when he was human...now he's a snake, its open hunting season on what projects he can find and shut down. Hell, give him a month in the White House and the System Lords could basically walk in through the front door without anyone firing a shot."

Jacob winced. "The military would never stand for it."

"Right, but you know where that would lead..." O'Neill stated.

"Mutiny." Jacob finished softly as they walked into briefing room.

Hammond stepped out of his office and smiled warmly at his old friend. "Jacob, it's been a while, I'm sorry your daughter isn't here to greet you but I though it best she stayed in Washington for the moment...take a seat."

As everyone sat down, the senior General immediately got down to business. "Okay people, NID brought us into the situation by kidnapping Colonel Carter and using her to confirm the 'compromised' state of our Commander-In-Chief and although they've said they're going to take care of the situation, who here thinks that whatever tactics NID are going to use are going to be subtle and involve minimal casualties?"

Everyone shook their heads silently. NID had shown it's ruthlessness before by allowing cloned symbiotes to take over the innocent civilians of a small town just so they could get their hands on advanced technology. Daniel shifted in his chair slightly. "We need to find out what NID plans to do."

O'Neill shifted in his chair slightly. "That'll mean talking to Maybourne."

"He's helped us before, regardless of his 'varied' past and your personal feelings for him." Hammond admonished him gently. "Whether Maybourne's after redemption or simply wants a chance to screw over NID one more time, he's an ally and you're going to have bring him in on this."

Teal'c leaned forward slightly, gaining everyone's attention. "Since it appears probable you intend to prevent NID from carrying out its plan, should we not create our own plan to deal with the presence of the Goa'uld in your Government?"

Daniel frowned. "Won't be easy. It needs to be done quietly and with as few witnesses as possible."

Jacob grinned. "Why can't you just leak it to a reporter? There'll be an uproar and everyone will call for the President to have a medical check-up and then we can all go home."

Shaking his head, Daniel met the eyes of everyone in turn. "That's the last thing we want to happen. Could you imagine the witch-hunts and hysteria that would arise if it became public knowledge that the President...the man surrounded 24 hours a day by a host of highly trained guards...turned out to be infested by a Goa'uld? We've been lucky so far...the public perception of the Goa'uld threat hasn't sunk in completely yet. Everyone still thinks in terms of Klingons and Romulans; they figure if a Goa'uld walked into a 7-11, they'd be able to tell right away. They don't realize that their parents, brothers and sisters, friends, bosses, paperboys or milkmen could be Goa'uld and they only time they would know is when their eyes flash. They don't realize that and I'm not sure you all realize the social tensions and situations that are gonna arise when it does sink in. I pray that it won't happen like this but I'm not that lucky."

The mood around the table had long since turned grim by the time Daniel had finished. Hammond looked at O'Neill, who simply nodded in agreement. It was a situation that nobody had thought about in depth before, except Daniel, who always seemed to be one step ahead on these sorts of things.

"Okay, we need to do this in total secrecy then." Hammond concluded. "Jacob, I asked for you because we need you the join Sam in Washington in keeping an eye on the President's movements. You can sense the Goa'uld and between the two of you, I imagine you would be able to triangulate his position fairly well. If the symbiote decides to leave Kinsey for whatever reason, I want to make sure we know about it."

Jacob nodded. "Agreed." He looked over at Jack. "Getting close to the President in order to sense the Goa'uld won't be a problem. Figuring out a way of getting to the President in order to remove the symbiote is another matter. Any idea on how you might accomplish that?"

O'Neill frowned distantly as he worked the problem over in his mind. "What about that anti-Goa'uld juice we picked up last we locked horns with NID?"

"That's problematic." Hammond answered with an annoyed expression. "We never had a great quantity of the serum to begin with and whatever the process was that allowed that doctor to create it, we can't duplicate it. The knowledge appears to have died with him. On the bright side, we know it can be done, the down side is that we don't know how long it'll take and taking what remains of the serum to use on the President means hamstringing the researchers severely. I'd like to hold off on that option unless it proves absolutely necessary."

"What other option is there?" O'Neill replied.

"You could go to the Joint Chiefs..." Jacob suggested. "Tell them that the President has been compromised and get them to submit to medical scan. There's no way we can take care of this ourselves. We have to involve the rest of the Leadership, the Vice-President, the Secretary of Defense, maybe the Senate Majority Leader...we have to prove to them that the President has been taken over by a Goa'uld. Remove Kinsey from office and put the Veep in his place."

"This is going to cause a shitstorm, you know. The G14 summit is coming up in a few months and losing the President is going to make a lot of heads of state very nervous."

Jacob smiled. "The Vice-President will be a happy man though." He sobered slightly and turned to Hammond. "George, your message said that you'd gone over the records from Space Command and you think you monitored three escape pods making it through the atmosphere. One landed in Russia and one here...where'd the third one land?"

"Britain." Hammond replied. "They're having just as much trouble as we are...the Russians got lucky when Sulakov stormed the Kremlin but at least they've accounted for their Goa'uld. Our ones are playing it smart and keeping a low profile. I assume since I've had no word from London that they've had no luck in tracking down their Goa'uld."

He looked around the table and gathered himself together. "All right, people, you all need to get to Washington D.C. Jacob, Teal'c; find Carter and stick with the President. Any change on his status and you notify everyone immediately. Jack, Daniel; in addition to stopping NID, you're going to do the rounds like Jacob suggested. Meet with General Stuart and the Joint Chiefs. Get them to meet with the Vice-President, the Secretary of Defense and the Surgeon General. We need to convince them of Kinsey's state and begin to separate him from the chain of command as soon as possible."

O'Neill stroked his beard thoughtfully; it was gesture that had happened without any conscious thought. "I want to have SG-3 and SG-8 on standby in Washington, in case this gets ugly and we need immediate containment."

Hammond agreed. "I'll have them dispatched to Andrews AFB immediately." He looked round the table and grinned as an odd idea occurred to him. "It'll be just like old times..."

"How's that, sir?" O'Neill asked, noting the mysterious grin on his commander's face.

"It's simple, Jack." Hammond replied. "We need our best team on the job. As of this moment and for the duration of this crisis, I'm officially re-activating SG-1..."



11:16 EDT
October 6th, 2005
Washington D.C

Washington D.C bustled with hundreds of civil servants, secretaries, aides, Senators, Congressmen and women; all going about the business of running a country. It was fairly cold for a late autumn morning and everyone was wrapped up tight, rushing from place to place so as to stay out of the cold.

Despite the cold, tourists from all over the world continued to visit the White House, or more specifically, to visit Lafayette Park and take in the trademark view of the White House. Among the determined crowds, Carter stamped her feet and walked around, steadily drink hot coffee, trying to keep warm while whiting for the General and maintaining her vigil over President Kinsey. At this distance, she could only feel a very slight tingle in her spine but enough to convince her that the President was still in the White House. She was about to begin a new round of curses for her superior officer when a black SUV pulled up nearby and beeped its horn once. Carter thanked whatever real Gods there were and swiftly moved towards the big vehicle. The fully heated vehicle.

As she approached, the driver's side window lowered and a smiling O'Neill leaned out. "Whatcha doing, Carter? It's kinda cold out here today."

Carter glared at him and didn't deign to speak until she had jumped into the back seat and shut the door, letting the heat seep into her frozen body. It was several seconds before she noticed that her father was sitting beside her, in between her and Daniel. Teal'c was sitting in the shotgun position next to Jack.

"Dad...when did you arrive?" She asked as she gave him a brief hug, or as much of a hug as one can give in the interior of a SUV.

Jacob smiled. "This morning. I'm here to help you keep an eye on the President while the rest of the gang do the really hard stuff."

"Like what?"

Daniel snorted in amusement. "Nothing much, just stop NID doing whatever evil scheme it's currently hatching and...oh, yes...overthrow the President of the United States."

O'Neill grinned even as he winced. "Not so loud Danny-boy, we're only about five hundred yards from the White House and there's about a fifty armed men and women over there who wouldn't take kindly to that last part." He turned to Carter. "What's the latest?"

"Tomorrow, the President's going to Camp David with the Secretary of Defense and the Secretary of the Treasury. There's a five mile cordon around the President there so once he arrives, neither me or Dad are going to be able to track him at that distance."

"Don't worry about that." O'Neill replied. "We're going to see General Stuart today and, hopefully, the rest of the Joint Chiefs and the Surgeon General tomorrow morning. Camp David sounds like the perfect place to perform the tests on the President and reveal his compromised state."

"And the place is a fortress; the Marines there will be able to keep the Goa'uld and host contained." Jacob added. "Away from the prying eyes of reporters."

"Looks like everything is falling into place." Daniel commented. "Now we just need to stop NID."

Carter frowned as she thought about Agatha. "She said she couldn't get an agent close enough to test the President. I assume this also means she'd have trouble getting close enough to surgically take out the President and at the same time, be sure of getting the Goa'uld."

Jacob studied his daughter's dark expression. "You think maybe she'd do something drastic? Like blowing up the White House?"

"Maybe..." She replied.

Teal'c inclined his head at O'Neill. "Have you been able to contact Maybourne since your last meeting?"

It was Jack's turn to frown now. "I put the word out in several places he keeps tabs on and I haven't heard back from him yet. Frankly, I'm stumped as to how to get to NID any other way other than through Maybourne."

"Maybe he's already working on it..." Daniel suggested.

"Maybe..." He replied.


Chapter 2
Revelations


05:32 EDT
October 7th, 2005

As darkness fell, in the majority of places around Washington D.C, lights flickered to life, illuminating the streets for the weary denizens of the nation's capital. At a seemingly abandoned industrial park, no lights flickered to life; the derelict warehouses, rusting vehicles, half demolished crates and discarded equipment remained in darkness. This was how the guardians preferred it for their night vision goggles turned the darkness into daylight. They moved among the detritus, on guard for drunks, kids and intruders.

These guardians were well trained but no defense is perfect, especially if the person breaking in designed those defenses.

Among the shadows, a short but solidly built figure, dressed in black, moved silently among the large dustbins and wrecked cars as he made his way towards the largest, multistory warehouse in the center of the industrial park. Two guards were walking along the row of abandoned cars, heads sweeping from side to side, the night vision goggles giving them the appearance of insects.

The facility hidden in the warehouse was covert and so, the number of guards outside at any one time was very limited. This short fall in cover was made up by extensive use of video cameras. He noted the cameras and the guards but was well aware of their limitations and took advantage of it. Moving quickly from point to point, he emerged from cover exactly in the 'holes' in the camera coverage. Technically, these holes weren't supposed to exist but the people in charge realized that they might need to enter their own facility and remove records without 'official' knowledge giving them complete deniability. Only a handful of people were supposed to know about the holes but if you know where to look, you can find anything.

In minutes, the figure had sneaked past several guards and a host of cameras and was ready to make his final run inside the warehouse. From his position he saw the main door and the camera above it and the cameras positioned on the roof corners. As the various cameras rotated from side to side, the figure studied them intently, timing the sweeps so that anytime now...he suddenly ran towards the entrance, the cameras pointing in all directions but at the door.

The entrance was a thick looking door with an innocuous rusting appearance that was betrayed by the small but modern access panel built into the wall beside it. The intruder didn't even glance at the door but looked up briefly to see the camera pan round toward his position once more. In front of the door was a drainage panel, which he pulled up unhesitatingly with a grunt and slid aside quickly. He climbed down, legs first, into the access hole and pulled the panel back over the hole as he dropped down.

The camera completed its turn without seeing anything.

Inside the sewer tunnel, the figure confidently strode forward in a direction that took him directly under the warehouse. Soon enough, he came to small ventilation shaft in the side of the tunnel. He squeezed himself inside the vent and began to squirm his way along towards the grille at the end. A firm push popped the grille off its hinges and allowed the figure to crawl out into the bottom of an elevator shaft. Looking up, he could see the elevator at the top of the shaft, five floors up.

Working quickly, he pulled a small metal and mirror rig from a leg pocket that he manipulated in several deft movements that expanded it into a square framework. Moving to the side of the elevator shaft, he located the ventilation shaft that led to the various offices within the warehouse.

Once again, he removed a small, black tube from a leg pocket and pointed it at the entrance to the shaft. It sprayed a fine, persistent mist that revealed a red web of laser sensors. Grinning a wolfish smile under his mask, the intruder took the mirror rig and slid it carefully into the shaft entrance. As soon as the mirrors slotted into place, the web disappeared, reflected off the small mirrors, round the sides of the rig.

With the final obstacle cleared, he cautiously climbed through the rig and dragged himself along the cramped shaft on his hands and knees. Moving confidently along the handful of intersections of the ventilation system, he stopped at a grille leading into a small but nicely furnished office. It was unoccupied but a laptop sat on a polished oak desk in the center of the room. Opening the grille, he dropped soundlessly and with cat-like agility into the office. Calmly sitting into the chair in front of the laptop, he pulled a disk out of chest pocket and slid it into the drive of the laptop. After several seconds, a prompt appeared on the screen along with an innocuous looking logo of a stylized eye; the unofficial logo of NID. The prompt asked for a user I.D and password. Unhesitatingly, he typed into the keyboard for several seconds, the word MAYBOURNE appearing in the user I.D box. The access prompt disappeared and was replaced with multiple icons and files, allowing full access to the system.

Maybourne moved though the file structure with ease, confidently accessing files, looking for specific data. After several minutes, he paused as he found what he was looking for, the operations log, personnel assignments and equipment dispatches. This allowed him to see where NID activities had occurred; who was involved and what tools they were using to get the job done. The data both surprised and disgusted him. It showed an incredible amount of boldness and stupidity on Agatha's part, as well as revealing to him how much his own attitude had changed towards NID ops over the years.

"Agatha always did think big..." He murmured softly.

Copying the files onto his disk, he set everything back up exactly as he had found it. If NID realized he had penetrated their security, they might be tempted to change their plans as a precaution. Plans he intended to prevent from occurring. Finished, he stepped lightly onto the desk and hauled himself up into the vent; leaving the exact same way he entered.


08:02 EDT
October 7th, 2005

Even this early in the morning, the Pentagon was filled with soldiers and civil servants, moving from ring to ring, corridor to corridor in the maze-like structure. Brigadier General O'Neill and Daniel walked in the main entrance, made their way through the security checkpoints and were on the other end by General Stuart himself.

O'Neill came to attention and rendered a fairly sharp salute. The Pentagon always seemed to bring out the spit and polish in him. "Good morning, sir. You remember Dr Daniel Jackson..."

General Stuart shook Daniel's hand respectfully. "Dr Jackson...it's been a while."

Daniel smiled in acknowledgement but remained silent. Whenever he talked to important people, he tended to ramble on about anything and everything and so he was learning to let most other people do the talking.

Stuart led the pair through a series of corridors, back to his office. Inside, he gestured for O'Neill and Daniel to sit on the sofa that was placed against the wall, behind a small table. "Jack, after we met yesterday, I made some calls. I managed to get the Surgeon General and myself, a place on Marine One when it flies out to Camp David in three hours. Nancy should be here anytime, she had to stop off in 'C' Ring to see some colleagues."

Daniel studied the General. "Have you decided how you're going to approach the President? What we're proposing sounds an awful lot like a coup in some respects."

Stuart grimaced. "President Kinsey is a...difficult...man. The simple fact is that we've tracked the Goa'uld infiltrator to the White House and everybody needs to be scanned as part of a security sweep, the President included."

O'Neill nodded. "The only question is how he will react. When the Goa'uld realizes his cover is blown, I imagine he'll try and kill as many high ranking people there as he can find."

"Unfortunately, SecState and SecTreas will be there in addition to my august assemblage..." Stuart added wryly. "...I'll have words with the Secret Service beforehand and let them figure out a way of containing the situation."

Before Daniel could respond, there was a knock on the door and General Stuart's aide took a single step inside. "Sir, the Surgeon General is here."

Stuart nodded. "Send her in, Helen, send her in."

Helen inclined her head and backed out the door. A second later, Nancy Bridgeforth, the Surgeon General of the United States stepped in. "Hello, Orin. Sorry I was so long, business took a bit longer than I expected."

All three men rose in courtesy as the diminutive woman entered the room. "Relax, Nancy." Stuart replied. "Have a seat. This is Brigadier General O'Neill, Spearhead Command and Dr Daniel Jackson, Cultural Liaison to the SGC and Spearhead."

Bridgeforth smiled as she shook hands with Jack and Daniel. "I've never had the pleasure but I've heard plenty from an old friend of mine, Janet Frasier."

O'Neill grinned roguishly. "Lies, madam. All lies."

Pleasantries exchanged, they all sat down and Bridgeforth was immediately all business. "Now that I've been cleared for the Stargate Project, I've studied as much as I could over the past twenty four hours and I'm far from finished my research but I have read Janet's summaries on the Goa'uld and their manner of infestation. A threat to the human race to be sure but I get the feeling you brought me in for another reason."

Stuart looked at O'Neill and gestured slightly, letting O'Neill explain. He wasted no time getting to the heart of the matter. "Ma'am, we have sufficient evidence to believe that the President of the United States has been taken over by a Goa'uld."

Bridgeforth rocked back in her chair, more than a little stunned as her razor sharp mind raced to plot out the consequences. "The Camp David trip, this afternoon?"

Stuart nodded. "You and I will be joining the President on Marine One. We will be scanning everyone, the SecTreas, SecState, everyone but that's really just a cover so that we can scan the President."

"You think the Goa'uld will standstill long enough to have his picture taken?" She asked wryly.

"No." Stuart replied. " But in forcing him to break cover is just as good confirmation of the threat as if he had been scanned. I intend to alert the Secret Service later on today and they should be able to contain the situation."

"The Vice President?"

"Is in Cheyenne Mountain at the minute. He has been given a scan already and is clean. As soon as we confirm that Kinsey has been compromised, we swear in the Vice-President and transfer the codes to him."

Bridgeforth sat silently for next minute thinking things over. "Are we going to use the anti-Goa'uld serum on him?"

O'Neill glanced at Stuart, who shrugged uneasily. "We don't know yet. We need as much serum as possible to help the labs synthesize more...if we use it on Kinsey now, we lessen our chances of success in the long term."

Daniel leaned forward intently. "Jack, I know Kinsey's been a pain in the ass but even he doesn't deserve that kind of hell."

O'Neill opened his mouth to reply but it was Stuart that answered. "Dr Jackson, there are other considerations as well. We can't interrogate a dead snake. While still inside Kinsey, we can still talk to it. Retrieve vital information from it."

"It's been tried before, General." Daniel replied, darkly. "A lot of people died when the snake eventually got loose."

Everyone fell into an uncomfortable silence as General Stuart seemed to have trouble deciding whether or not to glare at the archeologist. O'Neill slapped his legs briskly and stood up. "Well, General, Dr Bridgeforth, its been a pleasure, as always. If things at Camp David go to hell, I have a couple of SG teams standing by at Andrews AFB. Call us if you need us."

General Stuart shook O'Neill's hand. "Will do, Jack."



09:45 EDT
October 7th, 2005
Langley AFB

Captain David Hamilton was relaxing in the Officer's Mess at Langley AFB, absently studying the technical specs of the latest flight F-22 Raptor. This late in the morning, the mess was fairly empty with most of the pilots on the flight line, checking over their aircraft, preparing for this months squadron flight exercise. The fact that he wasn't with the rest of his squadron would have usually pissed him off beyond measure but not today. Today, he was nothing but preternaturally calm because this morning, of all mornings, his handler had given him his activation code. His handler had warned him against interference from outside forces; apparently, they'd struck against NID operations already but he wasn't worried. Once his was in his fighter, at fifteen thousand feet, very few people would be able to touch him.

Captain David Hamilton woke up each morning to a wife and a small child; he'd put on a uniform and drive to Langley AFB where he'd spend his working days as pilot in the 509th 'Panthers' Squadron. What his friends, co-workers and family didn't know was that he'd been recruited by a super-secret organization called NID; a band of ultra patriots who owed allegiance not to the politicians of Washington and the R.E.M.F's of the Pentagon, but allegiance to the ideals of an strong America, an America uncorrupted by drug users, rapists and murderers. To the ideals of doing whatever it takes to ensure the protection of ones family and ones country.

Captain David Hamilton was calm this morning simply because he had been told to kill the President of the United States.

10:30 EDT
October 7th, 2005
Washington D.C

SG-1 and Jacob Carter were sat in a booth inside a small diner on the outskirts of Washington, relaxing for the first time in days. With the President on his way to Camp David and General Stuart in complete control of the situation and no word on NID movements from any of their sources, they all found themselves with little to do.

"I think I'll take the eggs..." O'Neill commented as he studied the menu.

Jacob's eyes twinkled as he smiled at the General. "Jack, a man your age should watch what you eat. That cholesterol will kill you."

"A man my age...?" Jack replied, his eyes narrowing.

Carter snorted in amusement as Daniel and Teal'c shared a look of long suffering.

Jack turned to Carter. "You find something amusing, Colonel?"

She shook her head, trying to suppress her laughter. "No, sir...it's just that you're no spring chicken. Sir."

Jack glared at her.

"More like distinguished." Daniel added.

"There, thank you Daniel for you support." Jack replied gratefully.

Teal'c delivered the killer blow. "Your gray hair makes you appear very distinguished, O'Neill."

Jack winced and opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You're not an easy man to find, Jack."

Everyone at the table fell silent as they, as one, turned toward the voice. Maybourne stepped up in front of the booth and gave an apparently painful grin. He had a bandage stuck to the left side of his face and he carried his right arm as if it had been injured or even broken at some point. His black jacket, gray shirt and blue jeans were clean but quite rumpled and torn in several places.

Jack looked him over and shook his head in no little amusement. "What the hell have you been up to, Sparky?"

"Saving the world, Jack, saving the world." Maybourne motioned Daniel to move along the seat a bit and he sat down facing O'Neill.

Jack rolled his eyes at Maybourne's reply and waited for a better explanation he knew was coming.

Maybourne winced as he made himself comfortable and then got right to the point. "Early this morning, I broke into an NID command post. I retrieved some information about a plot to kill the President and pretty much half the top echelon of the White House. I spent the past five hours trying to prevent them from succeeding."

"Trying?" Carter asked pointedly. "You were NID at one point, why are you trying to stop them now?"

"My reasons are my own, Colonel, but sufficed to say, wherever NID intend to strike, I'll be there trying to stop them." Maybourne frowned. "I stopped NID from blowing up the White House but what I didn't expect was that they had a back up plan ready to go immediately. I thought I'd have more time..."

O'Neill felt his guts tightening. "What's the new plan, Maybourne?"

"The trip to Camp David." Maybourne replied. "The President's traveling on Marine One, they're going to shoot him down and eliminate the Goa'uld completely."

"Jack..." Daniel warned.

"Yeah." O'Neil replied flatly. He looked at his watch and frowned. Marine One takes off in less than an hour. He looked up at Maybourne. "You have no idea how they plan to take out Marine One?"

Maybourne grimaced. "NID has recruited members throughout the government and the military. They could get hold of surface to air missiles easily enough."

Carter shook her head. "No good. Marine One has passive and active defenses against SAMs...they'd need something more dependable."

Teal'c looked up at Maybourne. "Could they not use an aircraft to shoot Marine One down?"

Maybourne shrugged. "It's possible."

O'Neill grunted in agreement. "Okay, Daniel, take Teal'c and Jacob, update Hammond on the situation and then start making calls, try and keep Marine One on the ground."

Daniel nodded uncertainly. "Jack, I don't think we've got enough time to get in touch with somebody with enough pull and clearance."

O'Neill agreed silently. "Try anyway. Me and Carter are going to take more direct measures." Everyone slid out from the booth and made their way out of the diner; ignoring the looks the patrons were giving them.

Outside the diner, Maybourne pulled O'Neill aside. "Jack, I'm going under for a while. I left a couple of NID punks in bad shape and I imagine their gonna be looking for me for a while. I'm going to stay off the radar for a while."

O'Neill simply nodded. "Don't suppose I could get a report on the thing with the White House you apparently stopped?"

Maybourne grinned. "I'm sure something on the subject will find it's way to you in the near future."

As he turned and started to walk away, O'Neill called out to him. "Maybourne..."

Turning slightly, he looked at O'Neill, who seemed almost reluctant and embarrassed. "Thanks." O'Neill added.

Maybourne nodded silently and then turned away, melting into the crowd. O'Neill stood silently for several seconds, thinking at how weird his 'thing' with Maybourne was getting.

Carter appeared at his side. "Daniel, Teal'c and Dad have gone. Mind telling me what you plan to do?"

O'Neill looked at his 2IC with amusement. "We're heading to Andrews AFB but I need you to call up one of your tech buddies and have him meet us there with something I need to borrow."

"Who do I need to call?" Carter asked.

"Jonas Quinn..." O'Neill replied.

Carter's face scrunched up in confusion. "But he's working on the Naquadria Project at Area 51...No!" She suddenly realized what Jack was planning. "Sir, they'll never let you borrow it, it's barely finished testing!"

O'Neill grinned. He enjoyed doing things that others disapproved of. "Come on, Carter, where's your spirit of adventure? Think of this as it's first combat trial."

Carter sighed in surrender as she pulled out her phone. "It'll be nice being a civilian again. I can finish my book, maybe do a little private research..."

"That's the thing I like about you, Sam, you always look for the silver lining." O'Neill added wryly.



Chapter 3
Patriots And Prototypes



10:45 EDT
Langley AFB, Virginia

Captain Hamilton signed for his plane and stepped out of the Flight Ops building and into the crisp mid-morning sunshine. Breathing deeply, he felt surprisingly relaxed considering the historic mission given to him. Most of main apron was clear with 'Panther' Squadron and 'Blade' Squadron out on exercises. Sitting there, pretty much alone, was his F-16. He performed his walk around unhurriedly, he still had plenty of time to get airborne and intercept Marine One. His F-16 was in 'clean' configuration. Carrying just a full tank of gas, 1000 rounds of ammo for Vulcan cannon and wingtip Sidewinder's, he was confident in his ability to do what was being asked of him.

11:15 EDT
The White House

General Stuart walked across the White House lawn calmly, betraying no sign of the inner turmoil he was currently feeling. He had consulted the Joint Chief's of Staff, the entire Cabinet and the Surgeon General. What he was doing was by no definition a coup...yet...the thought of leading a technically legal motion to remove a sitting President unnerved him. Of course, he thought as he sat down and watched as the President approach the helicopter, the President isn't the President at the minute, he's infested by an alien parasite with delusions of godhood. The thought was good for nothing except to send a shiver down his spine.

Stuart watched as the President's personal aide gave Kinsey several folders and then stepped back, allowing the President to board the helicopter. The aide retreated from beneath the rotor blades and returned to the White House. Usually the President's body man went everywhere with him but Stuart supposed he'd be missing this Camp David trip for one reason or another.

The Colonel in command of Marine One spoke over the intercom, informing everyone aboard of their imminent departure. Stuart adjusted his seatbelt and looked across at Dr Bridgeforth who sat opposite him. She winked at him devilishly and he swore she looked like she was enjoying the cloak and dagger stuff immensely.

He shrugged internally. He'd much rather be going head to head with an enemy fighter jet.

As Marine One shook slightly and lifted off the ground, General Stuart had no idea that that thought would come back to haunt him very soon.



11:30 EDT
Langley AFB

"Flight Delta Five, you are clear for takeoff on runway zero two, wind speed is five knots, heading one eight zero. Pleasant skies, Delta Five."

Captain Hamilton clipped his oxygen mask on tight and shifted in his ejection seat to make himself more comfortable. "Thanks, Control. This is Delta Five, rolling out."

He pushed his throttle forward and the F-16 began to vibrate slightly as the engine thrust intensified and the small fighter began to roll forward. In less than ten seconds, it had accelerated past fifty knots and increasing speed rapidly.

"V-One." Hamilton spoke when his F-16 had reached minimum take-off speed. Several seconds later he added, "V-R." When he spoke 'V-R' or velocity-rotation, he pulled back on the stick and the nose of the aircraft rotated smoothly upwards, gently carrying the fighter into the air. In seconds, he had pulled in the flaps and raised the undercarriage and was smoothly passing one thousand feet.

In less than five minutes, he had left Langley Tower Control airspace and was heading towards Camp David on an intercept course with Marine One. It was at this point which he did two things of which he had never done outside of the Red Flag live fire range in Nevada. He looked at the IFF transponder controls that allowed both civilian and military air traffic controllers to see his fighter on radar and he de-activated it, rendering him effectively invisible until someone painted him with military spec radar.
After he had done that, he turned to the 'master arm' switch, which was currently in the 'safe' and locked position. Unhesitatingly, he reached out and flipped the switch up to the 'unsafe' position, breaking the safety wire and arming all the weapon systems on his aircraft.

He was now ready to kill.

11:32 EDT
Andrews AFB

"General Hammond will have your ass for this, sir..."

O'Neill glanced at Carter and smirked. "Only if he hears about it, Carter. We'll have it back before he knows it's gone. Besides, it's the only aircraft I could lay my hands on with such short notice and no questions asked."

Carter nodded absently as she thought of spending the next ten years in Leavenworth. They were both stood, in full flight gear, on the apron next to the main runway at Andrews AFB, the entire area having been cleared of non-essential personnel as a precautionary measure due to the nature of the arriving aircraft.

"Here it comes."

O'Neill's words were hardly necessary as there was a distinct rumble approaching. They both scanned the skies in an attempt to track the incoming aircraft but it was futile attempt. The rumble increased into a nearby roar of jet engines but still no sign of an aircraft could be seen. All of a sudden, there was a massive screech of jet exhaust as a large aircraft flew over their heads at near supersonic speeds. Screaming away, the advanced plane flew upwards into a Death Glider 'hammerhead stall' and reversed its course back towards the runway. Seconds later, the Pegasus Attack Bomber slowed rapidly and had come to a complete stop, thirty meters above the runway. As it lowered gently to the ground, small doors opened up under the craft and landing gear deployed. The massive airplane landed gently and the roar of the engines died, following swiftly by the whine of the anti-grav units.

As O'Neill and Carter approached the Pegasus, they couldn't help but admire the elegant and ferocious swept back design to the prototype aircraft. Like the Sabre fighter/interceptor design, the Pegasus has a dark gray, ablative underside with a white upper hull, similar to the Space Shuttle. The Pegasus, however is three times as large as the Sabre, has a longer nose and wider wings, and is powered by four massive Lockheed/General Dynamics Ion Flux engines. It currently carried four Energy Cannons and two Rail Guns, but fully loaded, it would also carry twenty AMRAAM missiles and either eight Tomahawk missiles or thirty thousand pounds of ordnance, be it iron bombs or smart weapons.

O'Neill couldn't wait to give it a spin.

The cockpit canopy opened up and the two pilots looked down at them as they began to climb out of the aircraft. Carter assisted them by walking up to the side of the plane, below the canopy and pressed a small flush panel that self-deployed an access ladder, allowing the crew to disembark.

The first pilot to step down removed his helmet and gave O'Neill a sharp salute in the British style, palm pointing outward. "Group Captain Thompson, General, Senior Test pilot to the Pegasus Program."

"At ease, Group Captain." O'Neill replied, returning the salute the American way. "Thanks for getting here so fast. We have a bit of a situation."

The Group Captain, the British equivalent of a Colonel, winced slightly and then gave a small grin. "Probably best, sir, if you leave it at that. The less I know, the less I can tell anyone else at your court-martial."

O'Neill laughed and turned to the second pilot who had just stepped off the ladder. "Who's your co-pilot, Group Captain?"

Thompson chuckled slightly as the second man removed his helmet to reveal a familiar face.

"Jonas!" Carter greeted, please to see him face to face for the first time in a while. After Jonas had defected from his world and joined the SGC, his aptitude as a scientist and knowledge of Naquadria had quickly earned him a place among the scientific elite of the Stargate Program. It was his Naquadria Reactor that powered the Pegasus, giving it a shield capability and a hyperdrive.

"Hi, Sam, I couldn't resist...that was my first flight in the Pegasus. She's some bird, that's for sure." Jonas was practically bouncing from foot to foot.

O'Neill moved forward to the access ladder. "Sorry, Jonas, we're on a schedule. We'll chat when we bring this baby back."

Thompson took a step forward. "General! Keep an eye on the engines; they have a tendency to overheat in low atmosphere at high speeds. Stay below Mach 5!"

"Got it." He replied tersely as he climbed the ladder.

Carter looked at Jonas in consternation. "The reactor's still giving you trouble?"

Jonas shrugged helplessly. "I didn't agree on the last test results but was overruled. They still want to go ahead with the hyperdrive tests next month but I'm telling you, there's gonna be an accident for sure. The Naquadria reactor's not stable enough with all the power requirements at the minute. We need to refine a better power flow system and..."

Carter laid a hand on his shoulder, cutting off his examination of the current problems facing the Pegasus Program. "We'll look over together, later, Jonas. We've gotta get going."

"Yeah." Jonas replied. "Just keep an eye on the reactor."

Carter smiled briefly and began to climb up into the cockpit.

Minutes later, the Pegasus was rocketing up into the air, heading off to save one deserving Goa'uld and a bunch of innocent people from destruction.


11:45 EDT
Somewhere over Virginia

Marine One cruised over the Virginia countryside as Colonel Harlan McGinnis yawned slightly, his eyes sweeping the cockpit instruments, the Virginia landscape and the sky in turn.

His co-pilot, Major Andy Peters, glanced at him with a grin. "Heavy night, Colonel?"

McGinnis gave him a mock-frown. "Nothing I can't handle, Major." He replied, archly.

Major Peters simply grinned. "I'll be glad to hold my liquor as well as you when I'm your age..."

McGinnis narrowed his eyes briefly, not deigning to reply, and returned to scanning the sky, his instruments and the surrounding countryside. The Presidential helicopter was cruising at a little over 80 knots and would reach Camp David in less than an hour. Several minutes passed in silence until Major Peters grunted softly.

"Major?" McGinnis inquired.

Peters shook his head slightly. "Not sure, Colonel. Radar picked up a flicker, bearing 210 but it was gone almost as soon as it appeared."

McGinnis frowned and contacted the Air Traffic Coordinator. The ATC replied that they had nothing on their scopes at that bearing. The answer didn't leave him satisfied. They continued on for several more minutes, intently watching their displays until the radar flashed once more.

"Contact." Peters reported. "Intermittent but there...intercept course, closing rapidly at low altitude I'd say. No IFF."

McGinnis didn't like that one bit and he was paid to be ultra cautious, especially considering his regular passenger. "Contact Andrews, see if you can get us some cover. I'm gonna turn us away, see if he follows." He turned to the Sergeant sitting in the jump seat behind him. "Sarge, go back there and make sure everyone's buckled in. We might be making some tight turns if this is some joker in a Cessna."

The Sergeant nodded once and left the cockpit. McGinnis looked at the radar once more and then made a gentle right turn, away from the contact.

The contact turned to follow.

"Damn." McGinnis said softly.

Peters stared wide-eyed at the radar display. "This joker's heading straight for us."

"Go defensive." The Colonel ordered.

Major Peters nodded and strapped his harness in tighter and activated the defensive systems of Marine One, even as McGinnis got on the radio and declared a situation with Langley AFB. The irony might have been too much had McGinnis known that the fighter making the attack on Marine One was from Langley AFB.

Suddenly, alarms started screaming. Peters paled as his looked at the displays. "Heatseeker lock! He's got us locked!!"

McGinnis growled and applied more throttle as he dived the helicopter towards the treetops.

"Missile away! Break right!"

The Colonel instantly jammed down on the rudder and pulled back on the cyclic and the collective, hauling Marine One into a hard, reefing turn. The Sidewinder heatseeking missile was closing in fast, homing dead straight at the hot exhaust of the helicopter.

"Second missile away!" Peters announced as he watched the display and then tried turning in his seat as he tried to get a visual lock on the incoming missiles.

The helicopter had the 'Black Hole' passive defense system that suppressed the heated exhaust of the engine, making it hard for most infrared missiles to track. Unfortunately, the system was unable to fool the state-of-art Sidewinder missile and it remained doggedly on course. Luckily though, Marine One had more tricks up its sleeve. Over a dozen, high intensity flares spewed out from both sides of the helicopter, each flare a miniature heat source to rival the sun. The first Sidewinder was completely focused on the engine until over twenty heat sources blossomed around it. Having so many new, better targets to choose from, the missile swerved from side to side, trying to choose the hottest target, eventually settling for two flares that had clumped together. The Sidewinder exploded a full one hundred and fifty meters from the rapidly evading Marine One.

The second Sidewinder flew straight past the rapidly diminishing flares and continued to track in on Marine One. Faster than human responses would have been able to, the helicopter's defensive intelligence automatically activated its 'Flicker Flash' laser array, situated in the tip of the tail boom. The Flicker Flash laser oriented itself at the Sidewinder and rapidly fired high intensity laser bursts at the incredibly sensitive homing warhead. The missile suddenly became blind and flew off vertically, self-destructing seconds later.

Marine One pulled out of its turn, safe for the moment, the entire attack and evasion having lasted less than six seconds. Major Peters scanned the instruments and heaved a momentary sigh of relief. "Both missiles spoofed. Scopes are clear but we are out of flares."

"Where's the hostile?" McGinnis demanded.

Peters glanced at the radar and then looked over his shoulder, out of the window. "He's high and behind us, two miles out."

"Dammit!" McGinnis growled. "We need air cover. I can't lose this bastard out here. I've got no terrain to hide behind and he's got us beat in speed, height and weaponry."

"Langley will have two F-15's here within fifteen minutes. We just gotta hold out that long. Can we put down on the ground?" Peters asked.

McGinnis shook his head. "We'd have to slow and hover. Sitting duck." He stated with grim finality. The bogey on the radar started to close rapidly. "Shit, here he comes!"

* * * * * * * * * * *

Captain Hamilton was getting excited now. He'd fired off both Sidewinders in the hope of overwhelming Marine One's defenses but they'd been better than even he'd been led to expect. He wasn't too worried though. Flares and lasers wouldn't stop 20mm Vulcan cannon rounds from shredding the helicopter and, coincidentally, the President, half the Cabinet and one alien parasite.

He pushed the nose forward into a dive and headed in, keeping the nose of the F-16 towards a point in front of the helicopter, 'leading' the cannon so that when he fired, the cannon rounds would float in towards the helicopter in what was called a 'deflection' shot.

As he closed to less than a mile, he pulled the trigger for a little less than a quarter of a second, sending a little under two hundred rounds towards Marine One.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Major Peters saw the puff of smoke from the nose of the F-16 and opened his mouth to scream for evasive maneuvers when suddenly, a massive object blocked his view of the F-16 and much of the sky.

"Holy shit..."

* * * * * * * * * * *

Hamilton blinked in astonishment as almost as soon as he had let go of the trigger, a massive aircraft, over twice as big as Marine One and in an impressive display of agility, flew in out of the clouds and interposed itself between his fighter and the helicopter. He watched as the stream of bullets flew with incredible accuracy and instead of blowing through Marine One, they impacted against the huge aircraft in a dazzling array of sparks and causing no discernable damage.

Hamilton's jaw dropped.

* * * * * * * * * * *

O'Neill grinned in no little satisfaction as he kept the Pegasus in the line of fire. He'd been behind a desk for too long and flying the prototype Bomber was fast becoming the perfect tonic. He rolled the bomber slightly so that he could see into the cockpit of Marine One. The co-pilot appeared to be staring at him with a dumbfounded look on his face. O'Neill activated his radio. "Marine One, Marine One, this is the commander of the aircraft beside you, call sign 'White Knight', please respond..."

Behind him, Carter shook her head at his choice of call sign and put it down to the irrepressible child in him. "General, the hostile is breaking high and right, trying to flank..." She advised.

"Gotcha." O'Neill replied smoothly as he maneuvered the Pegasus in a barrel roll around Marine One, once more keeping himself between the F-16 and Marine One.

"Roger that, White Knight, this is Marine One..." the voice on the radio sounded hesitant. "Thanks for the assist, White Knight but I have to ask, who are you and what are your intentions?"

"We're a Special Op flight, Marine One, just happened to be in the neighborhood. We heard your distress call and thought you could use a hand." O'Neill replied.

"Roger that, White Knight." Marine One replied with feeling.

"Hold on, while we take care of your little friend..." O'Neill ordered. He looked in the mirror attached to the side of the canopy that was angled so that he could see Carter sitting behind him. "Where is he, Sam?"

Carter studied her displays. "Two o'clock high, one mile out, heading right to left..."

O'Neill pulled back on the stick and sent the Pegasus into a vertical climb. The F-16 responded by pulling into a sharp turn and aiming itself straight at the Bomber and firing it's cannon once more. Keeping it heading straight up, O'Neill took the Pegasus straight through the stream of bullets and straight past the F-16, rocking the smaller plane with massive turbulence.

Hamilton recovered expertly and swore as he realized he was outmatched in this fight. The bullets just kept bouncing off some sort of energy shield that protected the craft like he was in Independence Day or something. He grunted hard as he reefed his plane around and aimed himself at the fleeing Marine One once more.

"Sir..." Carter warned.

"Got it..." O'Neill replied tightly as he pulled the Pegasus into an inside loop, reversing his course so that he was now heading straight down, closing fast behind the F-16 which was also closing fast on Marine One.

It had suddenly become a race to see who could kill whom first.

Hamilton was practically rocking in his seat as he tried to coax more speed out of his fighter. Closing rapidly, the laid the targeting pip of the HUD, over the distant Marine One. Seconds later, a box appeared around the helicopter and the targeting pip suddenly locked on, signifying that the target was in range. Hamilton yelled in triumph and mashed down on the trigger just as energy blasts ripped into the F-16, causing the fighter to explode.

The Pegasus flew through the explosion and pulled up, gracefully, into a gentle turn that pulled the large craft alongside Marine One once more.

Behind O'Neill, Carter grunted softly as her console started beeping. "Sir...two F-15's are heading this way, 50 miles out and closing fast. Probably the alert birds from Langley. If they arrive and see an unknown aircraft like the Pegasus..."

"They might jump to the wrong conclusion...right, Sam." O'Neill finished. "Marine One, your about to have some friendly company momentarily. I'm afraid this is where we say our goodbyes."

McGinnis immediately understood. "Roger, White Knight. I'll try and explain everything...when everything's calmed down, you get in touch...I owe you a beer."

O'Neill grinned under his helmet and oxygen mask. "Make it a case of Samuel Adams and we'll call it quits. White Knight, over and out."

* * * * * * * * *

Colonel McGinnis and Major Peters smiled in awe as they watched the massive craft bank sharply, accelerate and pull away from Marine One like nothing else they'd ever seen.

The Sergeant returned from the cabin and sat down behind the two pilots. "Everything clear? The President was pretty shook up at first but now I think he's just plenty pissed. General Stuart took a look out the window and started mumbling about 'having O'Neill's ass in a sling', whoever that is. And did you see that big mother?"

Major Peters rubbed his eyes, suddenly quite weary. "If I was you, Sergeant, I wouldn't worry about the bird that saved us, I'd worry about the fact that whoever tried to kill us, was doing so with an Air Force F-16. You can't just get those from your local dealer, you know?"

The three airmen shared a look. Someone just tried to assassinate the President using Air Force equipment. Whoever it was had some balls.

The radio suddenly crackled to life. "Marine One, Marine One, this is Eagle flight of two, approaching from south. What's your status?"

McGinnis glanced at his co-pilot as he responded. "Eagle flight, good to hear your voice. We were engaged, repeat, engaged by a lone F-16 several minutes ago but the hostile has been destroyed and our scopes are clear."

The confusion of the Eagle pilot was plain, even over the radio. "Marine One, how'd you destroy an F-16?"

"It's complicated, Eagle flight...regardless, if you could escort us to Camp David, we'd be much obliged to you."

"Affirmative, Marine One." The Eagle pilot replied firmly. "We are 'fangs out' at this time. Eagle flight, out."






Chapter 4
Smoke and Mirrors

12:10 EDT
October 7th, 2005
Camp David Retreat, Maryland.

General Stuart watched as the Secret Service rushed the President off Marine One and into the security of the Main Building at Camp David. He rose from his seat at a more sedate pace and stretched with a groan.

Dr Bridgeforth eyed the General from her seat opposite him. "Is air-to-air combat always that exciting?"

Stuart stared at the doctor, who seemed fairly relaxed compared to the pale faces of the Secretary of the Treasury and the Secretary of Defense. Both men looked queasy and were heading to the door at an undignified pace.

"Exciting, terrifying...they can be much the same thing a lot of the time. That was worse for me because I was just a passenger."

Bridgeforth nodded knowingly. "When you are in control, things seem less terrifying."

"You handled yourself well, Doctor..." General Stuart complimented.

"Thank you, General." She accepted with grace. "We must do it again some time."

The General was saved from having to reply when a Secret Service agent stepped up to him. "General, the President requests your presence in the Cabin."

Stuart nodded. "Tell him I'm on my way and that I'll be bringing along Dr Bridgeforth."

The agent glanced at the doctor curiously but nodded affirmatively.

Minutes later, Stuart and Bridgeforth had been processed through the Main Building and were let onto Camp David proper. A small electric cart was waiting for them on the other side, ready to take them to the President's Cabin. There were a number of rustic, log cabins in Camp David. The proximity of the guests placed in these cabins reflected upon their status. The more important you are, the closer you get to 'The Cabin'.

A Secret Service agent was sat in the driver's seat of the cart, waiting for them. As the doctor climbed into the small cart, the Agent passed to the general a folded piece of paper. The General opened it, read the short message and glanced at the Agent whose face was studiously neutral. The General said nothing and climbed into the cart.

The Agent started the cart and moved out. Dr Bridgeforth saw the exchange and leaned in towards the General. "What was that about?"

The General sighed. "The Secret Service is prepared to contain the President in the event that his test proves positive for infestation."

"And they weren't before?" She replied incredulously.

"They were..." Stuart confirmed. "...Just albeit reluctantly. It was hard for them to believe that a Goa'uld could slip through their perimeter to take over the President. This attack upon Marine One has sort of convinced them of the possibility. Someone out there sure as hell believes the President's compromised and was willing to take some pretty drastic measures." He gave her a steely look. "Are you ready to scan the President? We need to know definitively, one way or the other. I can't have any mistakes."

Dr Bridgeforth didn't take offense. "The Camp David surgeons are ready and waiting with the MRI. We'll have immediate confirmation."

Satisfied, the General lapsed into silence.

The cart steadily made its way up the gentle hill, soon arriving at the President's home away from Washington. They were quickly ushered inside by the Secret Service,

They found the President stood by a giant open fireplace in the center of the Cabin. He was casually holding a glass of scotch and staring into the fire. He turned slowly and studied them both intently. "General Stuart, approximately twenty minutes ago, someone flying an Air Force F-16 just tried to kill me...as the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, you wouldn't happen to know a reason for that, would you?"

Stuart took a deep breath. "I can't say for certain but I have an idea."

Kinsey's jaw clenched. "Well?"

"Sir...there is some concern that...well that the recent Goa'uld intrusion had penetrated White House security and that you were...infested."

The President stared at the General somewhat dumbstruck. He had thought it might have been a coup attempt. Some disgruntled faction of the military angry at his attempts at placing limits on the recent military expansion due to the war with the Goa'uld. He had not been expecting that.

"I am not a Goa'uld, General!" He all but shouted. "Let me guess, Colonel Carter just happened to sense a Goa'uld when we talked in the White House..." Kinsey started to pace in righteous indignation. "I smell O'Neill behind this."

General Stuart started to look uncomfortable. "We have evidence from several sources that suggest otherwise but as a precaution, we are going to test everyone in the White House."

"Including me." Kinsey added, flatly. "Hence, the Surgeon General making the trip to Camp David today, she's here to test me."

Stuart nodded. "Yes, sir."

Kinsey pulled himself together and looked over at his Chief Of Staff who shrugged. "Let's do it."

* * * * * * * * *

The Medical Facility at Camp David was essentially a fully equipped hospital, with a surgical facility, trauma room and most importantly, an MRI scanner.

General Stuart stood in the control chamber and watched through the Plexiglas window as Dr Bridgeforth helped the President onto the bed and placed him into the scanner. He was almost positive the President was clean as soon as he lay down on the bed for no Goa'uld would place their hosts in such a vulnerable position. He now wished he'd brought along Colonel Carter who could sense the presence of the symbiote. They hadn't bothered because they hadn't expected Kinsey to submit to the scan. Now that he had, Stuart wondered whether the Goa'uld could cheat the scanner or whether Carter had somehow got things wrong.

Dr Bridgeforth left the President and walked into the control booth. "Let's see what we can see." She said briskly, sitting down in front of the computer and rapidly typing in commands.

The MRI machine began to hum intently as internal components shifted around, scanning the President's entire body. Seconds later, a display of the President appeared on the computer screen. Dr Bridgeforth leaned forward and manipulated the controls, deepening the scan and moving through the tissue layers, the muscles, all the way down to the skeleton. She could find no trace of the symbiote anywhere in the President's body.

She looked up at the General and the head of the Presidents Secret Service Detail. She shook her head silently. The Service Agent breathed a sigh of relief as the General nodded unemotionally. Carter got it wrong somehow, he thought.

Dr Bridgeforth left the booth and went to help the President out of the MRI. Minutes later, she returned with the President. "Satisfied, General." Kinsey asked with barely hidden sarcasm.

"Completely, sir." Stuart replied with more than a little contrition, despite doing what had to be done.

"I assume everyone will be having scans today as well." The President stated.

Stuart nodded. "Your Service Detail has already been through. I'll be the next one in the machine, sir."

Kinsey smiled in wry satisfaction. "You can tell O'Neill he'll have to try harder than that to remove me from office. Cheer up, General...I may lose in four years anyway."

The General winced but said nothing as the President walked away. He turned to see Dr Bridgeforth leaning against the doorway to the MRI room. "Oops." She said with a small grin.

Stuart just shook his head and began to unbutton his uniform jacket. "Let's get this over with, Doctor."



12:10 EDT
October 7th, 2005
SGC-West, Cheyenne Mountain.

Hammond walked into the briefing room and sat down at the head of the table. Already sitting down was SG-1, Jacob and Dr Frasier. "That was General Stuart. President Kinsey was given a clean bill of health. Dr Bridgeforth could find no trace of the symbiote in his system."

"What!" O'Neill cried incredulously.

Carter leaned forward alarmed. "General Hammond, I sensed the presence of a symbiote! Dad sensed it too, it was there, in the White House!"

Hammond shook his head softly. "What else can we do, Major? Kinsey never liked us before this incident and now, we're completely persona non grata in the White House. He can't shut down the SGC and he can't remove us so apparently he's going to settle for ignoring us."

Jacob frowned. "Without access to the White House, we can't get in to scan for the symbiote a second time. We won't be able to find out who it really is."

O'Neill shook his head disgustedly. "Typical Kinsey bullcrap. I tell you with him in the White House we..."

"Jack..." Hammond interrupted, warningly.

O'Neill subsided with a grunt.

"So what do we do now?" Daniel asked patiently.

Hammond seemed to shrug. "I have no idea. Keep an eye out for anything strange going on at the White House, I suppose, and hope we can respond fast enough when the symbiote makes it move."

The room fell into a deadly silence.



13:42 EDT
October 21st, 2005

Jacob returned to the Tok'ra base soon after the meeting and O'Neill and Teal'c' had returned to Spearhead the next day. Colonel Lewis had been overseeing things at the off-world strike facility whilst SG-1 handled things on Earth but the General's presence was needed. The tempo of assaults upon Goa'uld assets had begun to ramp up once more and Lewis needed to be out on the front lines. Sam and Daniel on the other hand had stayed behind, overseeing the research & development projects that they ran congruent with those of Spearhead. Now two weeks later, Daniel had caught up on all the translations the engineers needed to complete their work while Carter had waded through the paperwork of evaluations and reports on the reverse engineering efforts.

The Scientific Support Department at the SGC was buzzing with activity. Technicians and scientists were working hard on various technologies recovered over the years, trying to decipher their secrets. SSD fell under Carter's authority and she was constantly making trips between the facilities on Spearhead and those at the SGC on Earth. Today, she was sat in her rather spacious office in the SGC, in a meeting with a handful of engineers, scientists and naval personnel. Jonas Quinn was heading up the scientific contingent. They were sat in chairs and sofas at the far end of her office, next to a massive wall screen, which currently showed numerous technical schematics and designs.

"The naquadria reactor is working well now." Jonas reported. "I think we've ironed out all of the bugs to date. The power flow systems are up to spec and the life support systems have just about finished testing..." Jonas trailed off as he looked towards one of the engineers handling the life support installations.

The engineer nodded. "Everything has been rated 4.0 at up to twenty atmospheres."

Carter looked at her PDA and checked off some of her notes. "Where do we stand on the 'Prometheus' timeline overall then?"

Jonas didn't need to look at his notes. The entire contingent of scientists and engineers were grinning inanely. "As of this morning, we are calling Phase 5 complete."

Carter grinned in surprise. "So soon?"

Everyone laughed in release of stress and tension. The backbreaking, brain-melting work that went into getting the Prometheus to Phase 6 in less than two years had been incredible. No description of the blood, sweat and tears involved could do the effort justice. Jonas shrugged in amusement. "If we don't run into too much trouble during Phase 6, the Prometheus will be combat ready in less than six months. The British effort, the Ark Royal, will be ready a mere three months after that."

"Hot damn." Carter replied, breathlessly. The Prometheus and the Ark Royal would be the first elements of Earth's Space-based Fleet. Carter looked at the basic designs of the two ships, now currently rotating on the wall screen. The American starship, the Prometheus, was a pure combat vessel. A battleship, if you will. The British effort, the Ark Royal was almost twice as large as the Prometheus and was primarily designed as a carrier for the Sabre fighter and Pegasus bomber squadrons. Both vessels were products of combining Earth/Goa'uld/Asgard technology and would go a long way towards defeating the System Lords once and for all.

"And what about fighter production?" Carter directed this question at an Air Force Major sitting in the corner.

He was smiling at first but as he began his report, he frowned faintly. "Production is painfully slow still. Lockheed, General Dynamics and the United Space Alliance are working as fast as they can but only a handful of component production lines are up to speed yet. The British are no better off and the Europeans have barely begun to convert their current manufacturing facilities. As it stands, we can produce maybe twelve F-401's a month."

"And the Pegasus?" Carter asked with a faint grin, remembering her flight in the prototype two weeks ago.

The Major shrugged. "Production won't begin for at least three months and by that time, we'll have construction capacity to spare."

The meeting went on for another hour, with each section of Research & Development reporting on each of their respective projects. Eventually, the last of the reports was given and with a satisfied sigh Sam placed her PDA on the table. She looked proudly at each of the faces in the room. "Tell your people, 'good job' from me. You people are working wonders out there and if you need any more resources I haven't thought of, don't hesitate to call."

The group nodded and hearing the dismissal, they all rose and started to head for the door.

"Jonas, stay a moment, will you..." Carter asked.

Jonas moved over in front of her desk as the last of the group filtered out. "What's up, Colonel?"

Carter grinned. "I want to take you off the Prometheus Project."

Leaning back in consternation, Jonas frowned at the Colonel. "Why?"

"I want you to take over the Armour Forge research. They've not been having any progress and I think they could use you, a new perspective as it were." She explained.

Jonas was intrigued. "I've read some of the reports on the project but Colonel, I'm a reactor man...my specialties the naquada generator and the naquadria reactor, how much help could I be with the Forge?"

"Don't sell yourself short, Jonas." Carter reprimanded. "You've got a first rate mind and I've watched you polish off entire sections of the base library on every topics from motorcycle repair to 'how to build your own 17th Century siege weapon'. You're one of the best scientists I've got. I want you working this project."

Jonas Quinn could do nothing but nod in acquiescence. A knock sounded at the door to her office. "Come in..." she called out.

Daniel leaned in, noting with surprise Jonas standing in the room. "Hi Jonas...Sam, General Hammond just asked us both to come to his office immediately."

Carter stood up immediately and grabbed her PDA. "Spearhead?"

Daniel shook his head. "Uh huh, I was talking to Jack on the Long Range Communication Device when the call from Hammond came in. This is something homegrown."

Carter nodded absently as she started towards the door, pausing barely long enough to look at Jonas. "We'll talk later."

Jonas just nodded. "Sure, Colonel."

* * * * * * * *

"Come in, Colonel, Doctor..." Hammond ordered.

Sam and Daniel sat in the chairs in front of Hammond's desk. "Is it good or bad news, sir?" She asked.

"Bad news, I'm afraid, Colonel. Approximately twenty five minutes ago, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom suffered a massive and fatal heart attack."

Exchanging looks with Carter, Daniel inclined his head slightly. "I'm sorry to hear that, General, but why the alert call?"

Hammond looked deeply troubled. "Because what really happened was that the Prime Minister had been taken over by a Goa'uld and as soon as it was revealed, all hell broke loose in Number 10, Downing St. No one was killed thankfully, except for the Goa'uld and co-incidentally, the Prime Minister. Although they weren't prepared for this, they've managed to keep it completely under wraps for now."

"Hence the 'heart attack' cover story." Daniel finished with sudden clarity.

"Correct." The General replied.

"What happens now?" Carter asked.

Hammond shrugged. "The G14 Summit starts in two days. I imagine though, that their Chancellor with take over duties as Prime Minister and attend the Summit. This couldn't have happened at a worse time for the British."

"Or a better time for us..." Daniel added absently.

The other two exchanged a look before Carter leaned forward to look at the archeologist. "Daniel...?"

Daniel realized he had faded out there for a second and composed himself quickly before replying. "Look...the British has just had happen to them what we tried to avoid two weeks ago. They got lucky in a way though because at least they've managed to account for their Goa'uld. We haven't. There's a meeting coming up where the world leaders all get together and discuss the current situation. What do you think would have happened if the British, Russian and American leaders had been Goa'uld?"

"You think they were going to take out the G14 Summit?" Hammond asked.

"Wouldn't you?" Daniel replied, bluntly. "The British and Russians have accounted for their Goa'uld, we haven't. Ours is still loose in the White House. If not in Kinsey, then in one of the staffers, an aide...someone close enough to the President for Sam to pick up on her visit and assume it was the President, since that was what you were expecting."

"Damn." Carter cursed softly. "We're locked out of the White House. We can't look for the Goa'uld and Kinsey's never listened to us before, why should he start now?"

Hammond seemed to come to a decision. "Colonel, I want you and Daniel to assemble and lead a team to New York. You're going to cover the Summit and make sure everyone stays alive throughout, understood?"

"Completely, sir." She replied. "SG-3 are on stand-down at the minute so I'll issue the recall and take them with us but I'll need clearance from General Stuart to get complete access to the security at the United Nations building."

"You'll have it by the end of the day, Colonel."

Carter pushed back her chair and stood up. "If you'll excuse us then, General...we'd best get ready."

"By all means, Colonel...Doctor Jackson." Hammond replied. "Good luck."



11:05 EDT
October 23rd, 2005
United Nations HQ, New York

The United Nations building had for all intents and purposes been turned into a fortress. Multiple security layers meant numerous checkpoints where armed guards searched bags, briefcases and persons. This was the unfortunate legacy of the terrorist murder of the World Trade Center and over 6000 men and women. Troops with surface to air missiles patrolled the rooftops of the surrounding buildings as Air Force fighters patrolled the skies.

A black non-descript van made it's way through the initial layers of security and pulled into the nearly filled VIP car park opposite the UN building. Major Dupre of the UN Security Force had been waiting for the occupants to arrive and now walked towards the big people carrier as it pulled into an empty spot. Nine individuals were stood beside the truck by the time he got there, all carrying large bags with them. As he approached, one of the men nudged a woman who seemed to be in charge and they both turned towards him.

"Colonel Carter, Dr Jackson...I'm Major Dupre, your UNSF liaison for the duration of the Summit."

They all shook hands agreeably and Dupre began to lead them towards the UN building. "I received full authorization for you and your team to operate with the security perimeter will full combat gear and live weapons. I have to say, I was incredibly surprised since they gave me no reason for your presence."

Carter smiled disingenuously as the group approached the main entrance. "I can't go into details but suffice to say, it deals with a possible threat for which we have unique experience with."

Dupre turned away from his study of the obviously intelligent and impenetrable Colonel and studied the others in the group. They all seemed in excellent condition and seemingly relaxed but moved with a languid grace that belied their combat training, obvious alertness and well buried tension. Even Dr Jackson, an archeology professor, carried himself with the poise of a combat veteran.

As they reached the doors, he put his hand on the handle of the large glass door and paused to try one last time. "If there is a threat to the Summit, don't you think I should be made aware of it?"

Carter glanced at Daniel who simply shrugged. Looking at the seemingly honest Major, whose only interest in their arrival was a possible threat to the people he was obliged to protect, she made a quick decision. "Major, we're here because we believe that an unknown person on the staff of one the visiting governments, may attempt to kill everyone here at the Summit."

Saying nothing, Dupre digested this disturbing information for several minutes. "Which government?" He asked bluntly.

"We don't know." She lied.

Dupre shook his head, incredulously. "You don't know who this person is, where he comes from or what he actually plans to do? Are you even sure he's here?"

This time, Daniel answered. "Major, if you received word that someone wanted to strike a major blow against the G14 nations, how do you suppose they would do it?"

Major Dupre winced. "They'd wait until the respective leaders were in one place and then try and blow that place up..."

Carter smiled, wryly. "Hence, our presence here at the Summit." She gestured towards the door Dupre was still holding shut. "Shall we go inside now?"

* * * * * * * * * *

An hour later, Carter, Daniel and SG-3 were all stood in the Security Center on the ground floor of the UN building. They were all dressed in black nomex suits with body armor and P-90's strapped to their chests. Major Dupre stood to one side, shaking his head in disbelief as the group studied the massive wall screen that displayed hundreds of security camera feeds.

Captain West, the commander of SG-3 whistled softly. "These UN boys don't fool around do they?" He glanced over at Major Dupre in newfound respect. "They've got every door, hatch, air vent and window under surveillance. Missile teams and snipers on the roof, four man elements placed in key locations..."

"They seem to have everything covered." Daniel finished, as he absently tapped his fingers against the stock of his P-90.

Carter shook her head. "There's a blind spot in their security."

Major Dupre's head whipped up from a display he had been studying when he heard this. "Like what, Colonel?"

Carter pointed towards a group of displays near the bottom right hand side of the screen. It showed the President of France walking through security, followed by his staff.

"None of them were searched in any depth, other than what the sensors and dogs could pick up." She turned to face the Major. "Sensors can be fooled."

She swept her hand out wide, encompassing the entire Security Center. "All this is gear to stop a unauthorized intruder. What if the person you want to stop has authorization?"

Dupre frowned in consternation. "What do you suggest we do, strip search the President of the United States?"

All the Americans snorted in amusement at that mental picture. Carter moved towards Dupre and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. You and your people keep an eye out for the people you don't want let in. Leave the people we want to get out to us."

Dupre nodded and Carter turned round to face her troops. "We split into three teams...Foster, Wilkes, you go with Captain West; Vega, Ludwell, go with Dr Jackson and Tyler, Hitch, you're with me." She moved towards one of the computers that displayed a technical schematic of the UN building. The fifteenth floor was flashing, showing the location of the Summit meeting that was assembling at this very minute. "We fan out and sweep through the entire building, think about how you'd want to take this place out or kill the entire diplomatic contingent and check it out...clear?"

They nodded their assent and everyone started to leave. Carter quickly moved towards Daniel, pulling to one side. "Daniel, wait..."

"What's wrong?" He asked.

Her brow was furrowed in concentration. "I think I can sense the symbiote, here, in this building."

"Can you tell where?"

She grinned wryly. "Only that it's within a half a block radius...so be careful."

"Aye Colonel." Daniel replied, turning away and jogging to catch up with his team.

* * * * * * * * * *

President Kinsey was in a foul mood. Bad enough that the British Prime Minister, a good friend, was dead but his replacement, the Chancellor was a complete idiot who still thought that America was a colony of the British people and doesn't give me the respect the office of President deserves. He was sitting in one of the VIP suites adjacent to the Conference Room, along with the Chancellor and their respective aides. They had been talking for over an hour about future proposals and the like and this British fool thought she could dictate terms to the USA.

The Secret Service detail, noticing their charge's temperament, had no trouble discerning the cause. The British Chancellor, Elizabeth Grant, seemed to be a practical but stubborn woman, who seemed to have little time for Kinsey's grandstanding. Most politicians, foreign or domestic, are very polite when talking to the President of the United States but she was blunt almost to the point of rudeness. Carefully hiding their grins, they watched as she continually shot down his ideas that seemed to compose of more flash than substance.

The President's aide, Carl Hudson, stood near the doors to the suite, looked at his watch and confirmed that it was time to begin. He picked up a small briefcase that stood beside him and then glanced at the Chancellor's aide who nodded and they both moved towards their bosses.

"It's time." Hudson announced to the room.

Kinsey breathed a sigh of relief, causing Grant's eyebrow to arch in mixed amusement and disgust.

The two leaders rose and the Secret Service and the Chancellor's Diplomatic Protection Group took positions around their respective charges. As a group, they walked out of the suite and into the corridor, down towards the Conference Room.

Several minutes later, they were filtering into the Conference Room, along with the other twelve heads of state and their entourages. The Conference Room was a spacious chamber with the far wall made of a single sheet of reinforced glass, giving them a spectacular view of New York. In the center of the room was a large circular table, surrounded by fourteen chairs for the various national leaders and chairs behind them for their associates. The respective bodyguards placed themselves against the walls of the room, overseeing everything.

It took some time for polite greetings and comments to pass back and forth between the heads of state but eventually, everybody was sat down at the table and awaiting the French President to begin the proceedings.

A small, rotund man, the French President rose from his chair with grave dignity and gave a wintry smile to the assembled leaders. "Welcome, my friends. It pleases me greatly to see us assembled here today, united by common cause and it is my hope that we can use our improved relationship to put aside the problems we had before the 'outside' intervention."

At this oblique reference to the Goa'uld War, several heads glanced at President Kinsey who seemed torn between embarrassment at the slightly hostile looks and pride at being at the center of things.

The French President glanced at his notes in front of him before speaking once more. "We have many decisions to make among us, my fellow leaders, and so I shall not waste more time. If you will open the agendas placed in front of you, we shall begin..."

* * * * * * * * *

Among the transfer pipes, heat exchangers and air conditioning units of Sublevel 3, Colonel Carter moved with deadly quiet. The other two members of her team were spread out on parallel paths through the machinery. They were being cautious in exploring the area in case they came across the Goa'uld planting an explosive device against a structural support on this level, or at least, that's where Carter would have been found assuming she wanted to blow up the UN building.

"Nothing so far, Colonel." Corporal Tyler reported over the radio.

"I got zip, too." Corporal Hitch chimed in.

Carter shook her head. Perhaps she was wrong, she had been sure the President was a Goa'uld and look what had happened. "Okay, meet up at the elevator, we'll go down and sweep Sublevel 4."

* * * * * * * * *

"Your concerns are valid, President Kinsey but if we were to place limits upon our military expansion, would we not run the risk of handicapping our forces, leaving them unable to defeat the Goa'uld?"

Kinsey grimaced as he stared at Chancellor Grant, who was fast becoming the bane in his life. "Madame Chancellor, if we turn our nations into police states, we may as well of lost the war to the Goa'uld...what difference would there be?"

Outwardly, Kinsey's Presidential aide, Carl Hudson, appeared very intent on the discussion but inwardly, the Goa'uld Pah'khet raged. These infernal Tau'ri continually argue amongst themselves and yet they continue to repel our assaults! By all that's right, it should not be possible...the luck of these slaves is incredible!

He glanced at his watched and suppressed a smile. It matters not, for it is time.

Looking at his belt, he pretended to be receiving a message on his pager. He mumbled an excuse to the Secretary of State who sat beside him and then rose from his chair silently. Aides had been coming and going at several points in the meeting and no one paid much notice to him leaving now.


* * * * * * * * *


Daniel stood in the foyer of the fifteenth floor as the two men from SG-3 conferred with the UN security people on this floor. None of them liked the idea of Daniel's team running around with guns on the same level that half the world's leaders were in and Lt Ludwell and Sgt Vega were trying to get them to co-operate, one soldier to another. Absently studying the architecture of the building, his attention was attracted to a man he recognized as Kinsey's aide, hurriedly leaving the Conference Room and walking quickly in his direction, towards the elevators. Daniel took a couple of steps forward and smiled in greeting. "Hi there, how's the meeting?"

A flash of annoyance seemed to pass over Hudson's face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. "Dry and not overly interesting..." He replied wryly.

Daniel suppressed a frown, something about the man seemed off. "Trying to make an escape, huh?" He prodded.

Hudson made a minute flinch, a response so tiny; Daniel probably would have missed it if he had not been studying him intently. "I'm heading downstairs...I need to make a phone call." The aide responded.

Daniel tried not to glance at the array of phones against the far wall to their left. "I won't hold you up anymore then." Daniel replied pleasantly. Stepping aside, Hudson strode towards the elevators and pressed the call button. Daniel spoke a word in the tone of saying goodbye that was actually a particularly vile curse in Goa'uld.

"Fek'shoa."

Hudson spun round to respond when his face paled as he realized he had been baited and that he had fallen for it. He had been exposed. His embarrassment turned to rage and he jammed his hand into his pocket and pulled it out, a ribbon device now attached to his fingers and palm.

"Clever, Tau'ri...too bad for you!" Hudson/Pah'khet roared, whipping his hand up and sending a blast of energy at Daniel.

Daniel leaped to one side but was caught by the outer edges of the wave and was sent flying in some chairs lined up against the wall. The blast continued one and blew into the far wall, sending the SG-3 soldiers and UN security troops flying in all directions.

Before the dust settled, Hudson/Pah'khet stepped into the now open elevator and growled in satisfaction as the doors silently closed on the carnage.


* * * * * * * * *


The Conference Room shook slightly from the ribbon blast in the corridor. The various attendant bodyguards tensed and moved closer to their principals as other left the room to investigate.


* * * * * * * * *

Carter's radio crackled with Daniel's frantic voice. "Sam! Captain West! We just ran into the Goa'uld...it's the President's personal aide! He's in the elevator and heading for the ground floor!"

"What's your status, Daniel?" Carter asked as she gestured for her team to head the stairwell and get to the ground floor.

"Ludwell and Vega are down and hurt. I'm battered but functional." Daniel replied shakily.

As she practically vaulted up the stairs, two steps at a time, her mind churned furiously. The President's aide! He's been there all along. He'd know exactly how to get around our security measures! If he's revealed himself, he's probably put his plan into action... "Daniel, get into that Conference Room and get the heads of state out of there! The Goa'uld probably left a device in there!"

* * * * * * * * *

Daniel staggered to his feet, groaning in the process and recovered his P-90 from the floor. "Roger that, Colonel. Daniel out."

He walked towards Lt Ludwell, who was holding his arm at an unnatural angle and Sgt Vega, whose chest was a mass of burns and blood having borne the brunt of the blast.

Ludwell having heard the radio conversation waved Daniel to go on without them. "I'm no good to you and someone needs to help Vega and the UN guys..."

Daniel nodded and jogged down the corridor towards the Conference Room. In addition to the UN security guards, there were security men from several different nations attending the Summit; all were streaming into their radios, demanding answers. As one guard spotted Daniel coming towards them with his P-90, he and the other raised their weapons in his direction.

"Stay right there, buddy!" One guard called out. "Who are you?"

Daniel slowed his pace but didn't stop walking. He tried to explain hurriedly, falling back on some little known paperwork Jack had arranged during the creation of Spearhead. "Colonel Daniel Jackson, United States Air Force! I'm here with a special security unit. The hostile is heading for the ground floor but I believe he left an explosive device in the Conference Room...you need to evacuate everybody immediately!"

At first, it was clear the various guards didn't know what to believe but by the end of Daniel's explanation, they all seemed to believe him. The guard that had spoken initially lowered his weapon and pushed his way through the crowd to the Conference Room. "Everybody, we have a situation, we need to evacuate everyone immediately. Principals and escorts go first, everyone else follows!"

Daniel pointed towards two UN security guards. "You two, come with me!" And they pushed their way past the outgoing flow of dignitaries and into the rapidly emptying conference room. "Start searching the room, look for anything suspicious!"

"Dr Jackson!"

Daniel turned at the sound of Kinsey's voice. He was trying to get free from his Secret Service Detail who was trying to pull him out of the room. "Jackson, what the hell are you doing here?" He roared.

Frowning, Daniel glanced at the man he had trouble calling President. "I'm saving your ass, sir!"

Kinsey sputtered but by the time he was able to reply, the Secret Service had hustled him out of the room.

Daniel sighed in relief and set to work searching the room.

* * * * * * * * *

Carter came out of the stair well to absolute carnage. Goa'uld was standing in the middle of the lobby; firing ribbon blasts at Captain West and his team who were emplaced behind a very thick marble reception desk. The SG-3 team members were firing their weapons at the Goa'uld but the bullets were just bouncing off its personal force field. West and his team weren't close enough to be able to throw a knife at the Goa'uld but Carter was. She reached down towards her leg sheath that held a large knife but paused as the Goa'uld noticed Carter's appearance and sent a ribbon wave her way.

Carter turned to Tyler and Hitch behind her and pushed them back. "Get down!" She screamed, dragging them down several steps to the lower level of the stairwell. The wall and doorway behind her exploded, showering them in mortar and cement chunks, filling the stairwell with dust.

She coughed violently and activated her radio. "West! We need energy weapons or explosives!"

As West's voice drifted back over the radio, she could hear the roar of his P-90 in the background. "I know, Colonel! We've only got zats and P-90's but the UN guys have some LAWs in their armory. They're retrieving them now!"

Carter grinned as Tyler helped her to her feet. "Alright Captain, that's the best news I've heard so far." The Light Antitank Weapon was essentially a small missile launcher that carried enough punch to drain that Goa'uld shield enough for them to kill it.

Corporal Hitch had climbed up the rubble and raised his head slightly over the top. "The Goa'uld is heading towards Cap'n West, ma'am..."

Carter and Corporal Tyler joined Hitch at the top and looked out at the small battlefield. The lobby was completely wrecked; the ribbon blasts having taken out massive chunks from the walls, the balconies and fountains. The Goa'uld was calmly walking towards Captain West and his squad who were firing repeatedly for no effect, their P-90s completely ineffective against the shield. Suddenly, her radio crackled once more. "Colonel Carter, this is Major Dupre, I've got three LAWs and I'm setting up at the far end of the lobby."

Carter turned away from the Goa'uld and looked towards the other end of the lobby. She could glimpse Major Dupre and five UN security troops moving behind overturned desks, aiming their missiles towards the Goa'uld. "Fire when I give the word, Major!"

She turned back to the Goa'uld. "West, on my signal, start firing your zats for all your worth!"

After receiving acknowledgements from both men, she pulled out her zat from a back pocket. Tyler and Hitch did the same. "Captain West, fire!"

The lobby was suddenly lit in zat blasts, the Goa'uld force shield coruscated in energy, the zat bolts being absorbed and setting up minor disruptions in its integrity, weakening it up for...

"Major Dupre, fire!" Carter ordered.

As one, the three UN troopers fired their LAWs, the rockets flashing from one end of the lobby to the other in less than a second. The explosion was incredible, shattering every pane of glass in the lobby that wasn't already shattered. The force shield protecting the Goa'uld imploded under the incredible stress, both the shield controls built into the ribbon device and the belt generator itself, exploded, sending the Goa'uld flying through the air.

Hudson/Pah'khet fell to the ground with a thud, sliding to a halt near Captain West's position, still alive but grievously wounded and in terrible pain.

Captain West lowered his zat and raised his P-90, rising from his position behind the marble desk and moving in on the Goa'uld. Hudson/Pah'khet rolled over to face the SG-3 leader and with his face contorted in pain, he smiled, his eyes flashing in emphasis. "Too...late...Tau'ri filth."

Captain West sneered. "Just another dead snake." He pulled back the bolt on his P-90 and fired, emptying an entire clip.


* * * * * * * * *

Daniel and the UN guards were searching the Conference Room frantically but could find nothing. The cabinets were empty, the table was clean, as were the chairs and in the adjacent rooms. "It's not here, Colonel Jackson." One of the guards called out. "It must be elsewhere."

Daniel shook his head. "We've looked almost everywhere else, the Goa'uld was in this room, and this is the perfect place for a bomb." His eyes scanned the room once more, noting the documents spread out on the table. There were briefcases everywhere, abandoned by their owners, most were already open and their contents spilled across the floor. Daniel could see, however, several briefcases still shut, lying on the floor.

"Check the briefcases..." Daniel suggested.

Daniel picked up the nearest one and placed it on the table. Not knowing the lock combination, he pulled out his combat knife and forcibly pried the clasp apart. Daniel gently opened the lid to reveal folders, notes and a chicken sandwich wrapped in cellophane. Shaking his head in disgust he tossed it to one side and picked up another.

"Oh shit."

Daniel turned to look at the soldier who had cursed softly. He was stood at the table, looking into an open briefcase, his face pale, drained of all blood.

Moving quickly to his side, Daniel looked inside the briefcase. It was Goa'uld technology but there was no mistaking it for anything else other than a bomb. It had a small screen that display a line of Goa'uld numbers that was counting down rapidly.

"Get your men out." Daniel ordered flatly, not taking his eyes on the bomb. "Evacuate the entire building."

The two guards wasted no words and left rapidly. Daniel activated his radio. "Sam, it's Daniel, I've found the bomb."

* * * * * * * * *

Carter tore her attention away from the dead Goa'uld and grabbed her radio. "Great work, Daniel. Can we move it?"

There was a noticeable pause before Daniel replied, his voice etched with frustration. "Sam, there's less than twenty seconds on the timer. I'm going to have to try and disable it..."

She made towards the stairwell but was held back by Captain West, who shook his head sadly.

* * * * * * * * *

Frowning, Daniel gently pulled a small panel off the front of the device. The counter now said eleven seconds. Inside the bomb, Daniel could see a small sphere that looked distinctly like it was made of naquada. There was a small hole in the side of it and beside the hole was a small plug of naquada attached to an arm that was slowly pushing it into the sphere. The naquada was beginning to glow blue, small electrical charges seemed to rim the hole in the sphere and the plug, sparking between the two.

Daniel guessed that once the sphere was complete, the bomb would explode, pretty much taking out the entire UN building. Since he was already dead, he had nothing to lose. He reached into the bomb casing and grabbed the sphere in one hand and the arm mechanism in the other. The sphere was incredibly hot and Daniel figured not just in the temperature way either. Holding onto both components tightly, he strained mightily as he tried to pull them apart. The metal arm jerked slightly and something seemed to give as it snapped and slammed straight back into the casing, the naquada plug coming completely clear of the sphere. Daniel grabbed the plug and tore it off the end of the arm, throwing it to the other side of the room.

The bomb buzzed as the countdown reached zero but nothing happened.

Daniel let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding and flopped to the floor in front of the now inert bomb. He was sweating heavily at this point and he raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow but jerked his hand away in sudden pain. His palms were covered in large, incredibly painful blisters. Sighing deeply, he leaned back against a thick table leg and rested his hands on his knees.

His radio crackled. "Daniel?" Carter's voice sounded surprised, she was only halfway up the stairs and yet the bomb hadn't gone off yet.

"Still here, Sam. For a while anyway." Daniel replied wearily.

"Daniel?" Carter repeated, now sounding thoroughly confused.

"Just get up here, Sam." Daniel asked, switching off his radio and putting it on the floor beside him.

Several peaceful minutes later, Carter skidded to a halt in the doorway of the Conference Room.

"Wait there, Sam!" Daniel called out, his arm outstretched to stop her.

Sam stopped but saw the burns on Daniel's hands. "What happened, Daniel?" She asked softly, half knowing what transpired.

Daniel shrugged weakly. "I stopped the bomb from going off but I think I got a pretty big dose of radiation for my trouble."

Reaching into her thigh pocket, Carter pulled out a small analyzer that she kept with her at all times. "Yeah..." She confirmed softly. "You took a big dose alright but you're mainly an alpha emitter now. It's safe for me to help you. We need to get you medical attention."

As she charged into the room and dropped next to Daniel, he gently laughed. "Janet's gonna be really pissed at me this time."

Pulling out a first aid kit, Sam tried to swallow a knot that was building in her throat. "Let's not give her any cause to hurt you more than she will as it is then, alright."

Before Daniel could respond, she had grabbed her radio and started speaking into it urgently, calling for medical evacuation. Daniel closed his eyes as her voice and his pain faded away.




Chapter 5
I Hate Goodbyes...

16:25 EDT
October 23rd, 2005
Presbyterian Hospital, New York

At the main entrance to the hospital, the visitors and patients that were coming and going suddenly heard emergency sirens. Looking towards the road, they saw two police motorcycles escorting a black sedan speed straight up to the entrance. The passenger door swung open before the car had time to come to a complete stop and out jumped an Air Force General in full uniform, swiftly by a huge man wearing BDU's and a camouflage cap worn low over his eyes. Both men wore desolate expressions on their face.

General O'Neill ignored the strange looks he received from the patients, porters and nurses, and charged straight into the hospital. Near the Main Desk stood a UN Security trooper in full gear. At seeing O'Neill he stiffened to attention and gave a quick salute. "General, sir, if you'll follow me..."

O'Neill said nothing but followed the soldier who set a quick pace down a series of corridors towards an isolated section of the hospital. Turning a corner, O'Neill and Teal'c were greeted by the sight of Captain West and Corporals Tyler and Hitch leaning against the wall next to a door.

O'Neill's eyes searched out those of Captain West. Neither man spoke but O'Neill gleaned enough information from his expression to know. Taking a deep breath, he pushed open the door and stepped into the room, Teal'c right behind him.

General Hammond stood at the foot of the bed, hands at his sides balled into fists hung with frustration at his uselessness. Carter was sat beside the bed, gamely wearing a smile but O'Neill could see the pain in her eyes. Janet Frasier was standing by the other side of the bed, gently dabbing a cloth against her patient's forehead. O'Neill's eyes fell upon the figure on the bed and his breath caught in his throat. Behind him, he could hear a strangled sound from Teal'c.

Daniel was propped up in bed at a low angle, his hands and body wrapped in bandages, his face covered in blisters. Slowly, his head turned towards the door and a painful smile appeared.

"Hey Jack...Teal'c...you made it..." Daniel's voice was weak and pain filled.

O'Neill summoned up whatever strength he had and walked towards his friend. "Daniel...I take my eye off of you for five minutes..."

Daniel half-coughed, half-laughed at the Jack and his irrepressible humor. He hoped it would survive the events of the next few days. Daniel had no illusions as to the outcome of all of this; he could feel himself getting weaker already, he had been holding on only long enough for Jack and Teal'c to arrive.

He sighed gently. "I lost my parents...as a child. My uncle was...half crazy...always away on some trip. All of you are my family...all I have."

Janet opened her mouth to admonish him about giving up but Daniel stopped her. "Please Janet...you know how this is going to end."

She shook her head, trying to persuade herself that her diagnosis could be wrong.

Daniel smiled compassionately and turned towards the foot of the bed. "General Hammond, I don't have the words...you took me in, allowed me to stay when you had no reason to and plenty not to. You've been as good a surrogate father to me as any man could have wished for and for that I have been truly blessed."

Hammond tried to smile, he really did, but all he managed to do was bring tears to his eyes.

"Teal'c..." Daniel called out.

Teal'c, who had been standing towards the back of the room, gathered himself together and moved closer to his friend. "Teal'c...despite what I know you think about yourself...you are truly my friend as I am yours. I know that you have never forgiven yourself for taking Sha're away from me in the beginning and then ending her life on P39-418."

"I have caused you much suffering, Daniel Jackson." Teal'c replied solemnly.

"But I still call you friend." Daniel replied. "You have always carried the sins of the past like a weight on your shoulders. Teal'c...your heart is pure and your mind is free. Everything else is mere detail. I ask of you one thing..."

"Anything." Teal'c stated.

"Live for me, Teal'c...release yourself of your burden and truly live as a free man. Let the past remain in the past."

The bigger man visible fought within himself but eventually, he bowed deeply. "I will do as you ask, Daniel Jackson."

Daniel nodded and turned to Sam, who was barely holding it together. "Sam...my wonderful sister."

Sam's composure collapsed and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Daniel..." She replied with no more words needing to be said.

Gratified to see that she understood and returned the depth of love he felt for her, he looked at Jack who had moved next to Sam and had placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Jack."

"Daniel." O'Neill could barely speak past his tight throat.

Daniel shook his head gently, his mind relieving their adventures. "It was a wild ride, wasn't it?"

"One hell of a ride." Jack agreed.

"I never thought it would end, you know?" Daniel added wryly.

Jack could never believe the guts of the man in front of him. Staring death in the face, he still made jokes. "You've been here before..."

Daniel smiled sadly. "Yeah...I think this time though, I'm going home to a different place."

"As long as it's upwards..." Jack matched Daniel's sad smile.

"Up would be good." Daniel agreed, suddenly grimacing as a sharp pain erupted in his gut. Shaking it off he tried to speak. "Jack..."

"I know, Daniel, I know..."

The two men, brothers not of blood but of life, stared at each other intently, trying to share what they were feeling without words. The heart monitor beeped steadily and slowly in the background. Too slowly.

Daniel nodded at Jack, satisfied he knew what he meant to him and turned to the last person in the room. "Janet."

Janet was crying hard now, her trembling hand reached out to brush Daniel's face but held back for fear of causing him more pain. Daniel smiled and raised his hand against hers, pressing it against his face. Savoring the feel of her despite the pain. "Janet..."

"Don't leave me, Daniel..." She begged softly.

Tears fell from his own eyes now at the pain he was causing the woman he loved. "I'm sorry, baby..."

The heart monitor spiked as Daniel tensed in pain.

Janet made an inarticulate sound and moved closer to Daniel, trying to hold onto him and not hurt him more. "I love you Daniel..." She cried out softly.

Daniel started to fade. "Daniel!" She cried out once more.

"Love you...Janet..." Daniel breathed out, faintly.

The heart monitor flat-lined, its steady tones signaling the departure of Dr Daniel Jackson.

* * * * * * * * *

The word went out and at Spearhead, at the SGC in Cheyenne Mountain and at the SGC in Khabarovsk, Russia; at Area 51 and at the numerous Stargate operations around the world, the Tok'ra, the Asgard and the Nox, the people who had known Daniel Jackson mourned the loss of a good man.


Though the Angels weep and without him our world is diminished, even Heaven is improved by his presence.



The End





Thus ends the second trilogy in the Spearhead Saga. (A fairly pretentious title, I admit but what the hell, you gotta call it something, right?)

I know that Daniel's death in Stargate: SG1 provoked serious divisions within the SG-1 fans but seriously, I was pleased to see that the producers had the courage to take that step, regardless of the reasons for Michael Shanks departure. I believe the problem with any long running TV series is the lack of evolution in the people and their respective universes. Too many TV shows have a 'reset' button that is pressed at the end of each show, leaving the characters no better or worse off than they were at the beginning of each episode.

The only issue I had with Daniel's death in the TV show was the circumstances of his departure. I think is was typical, unimaginative and almost insulting to have him not truly die but 'evolve' so that he might turn up again in future episodes. The main characters in these shows always die and then find ways to come back. What about the less important people that die normally and are then ignored and forgotten?

The dichotomy always bugged the hell out of me and so Daniel here dies a glorious, noble death and STAYS DEAD! No Oma Desala...no time travel...no coming back.

Let us remember him as a man who gave his life for a cause knowing that he was truly giving his life, and not bringing him back from the brink purely for profit or viewership.

Other than that, I hope you enjoyed it.

Spearhead: Tragedies And Statistics will be forthcoming. (I'll make it a Christmas present for ya!)

Any comments, opinions, it's all the same to me, send 'em my way...

Y'all know the address; it's a.seivewright@btinternet.com