I hate my name. It symbolises all the things I hate about myself now. The
only people who call me Dr Jackson are those I hate, the people I would
gladly shoot in cold blood. And the only people who call me Daniel are
those who hate me, and have every right to do so. Those I've betrayed.
What's a name if you've no friends to call you by it? It's a no win
situation I'm caught up in. I have no friends; no one who cares about me.
And I can't blame anyone but myself. There was a time where I had good
friends who used my first name and people who respected me using my second.
No one respects me now, especially not myself.
***
I was drowning my sorrows in a can of cheap beer. It was a habit I caught from Jack probably, in a previous lifetime. The lifetime where I could spend an evening getting drunk with my friends. The lifetime where I still had friends. I hated the taste of beer but it was the cheapest alcohol I could buy. They had Sam, or at least they would soon. They'd done some research on the list of names I'd been able to get for them, and now they were certain they knew where Sam was. She'd be in their custody within a day. So I was drunk.
They hadn't told me which of a fairly long list was the correct name, and I didn't want to ask. They didn't trust me enough not to betray them. It was funny the way things were, the only people who thought I might betray them were those I didn't dare betray. Not with what they had.
The phone rang and I pulled myself up slowly to answer it. Only one person ever rang me and I didn't care about keeping him waiting. "What is it?" I snapped into the mouthpiece, "Decided to gloat?"
"She's gone," that all too familiar voice droned in my ear. I wish I'd never heard that voice. "Someone warned her." The dismal cloud that had settled around me lifted and I felt able to smile. If Sam had escaped. . . Then it came to me what Sam's escape could mean. Simmons would undoubtedly blame me, and that meant I might never get what he had promised me. The cold hand of fear gripped my heart and for a moment it felt as though it had stopped breathing. I was terrified, but not for myself.
"I don't know which of those names was Sam," I said, my voice quivering with fear. "I wouldn't have been able to warn her."
"Then who?"
"I don't know." I was sobbing, my eyes filling with tears as I thought of what Simmons could do. For an instant I considered telling him about Makepeace, but Makepeace was the only person who knew enough and was in a position to do anything to stop Simmons, and, unlike with me, Simmons had no hold over him.
"If I find out you've been lying then there will be strict consequences." Simmons didn't need to state what those consequences would be, I knew well enough. "Find Major Carter." He didn't wait for my answer before hanging up, and I lifted the beer can up again to empty it completely. But the shock had eliminated the drunken haze and beer could offer me no comfort. I'm not ashamed to say that I buried my head in my hands and cried. I'm ashamed about what I did next.
***
I was drowning my sorrows in a can of cheap beer. It was a habit I caught from Jack probably, in a previous lifetime. The lifetime where I could spend an evening getting drunk with my friends. The lifetime where I still had friends. I hated the taste of beer but it was the cheapest alcohol I could buy. They had Sam, or at least they would soon. They'd done some research on the list of names I'd been able to get for them, and now they were certain they knew where Sam was. She'd be in their custody within a day. So I was drunk.
They hadn't told me which of a fairly long list was the correct name, and I didn't want to ask. They didn't trust me enough not to betray them. It was funny the way things were, the only people who thought I might betray them were those I didn't dare betray. Not with what they had.
The phone rang and I pulled myself up slowly to answer it. Only one person ever rang me and I didn't care about keeping him waiting. "What is it?" I snapped into the mouthpiece, "Decided to gloat?"
"She's gone," that all too familiar voice droned in my ear. I wish I'd never heard that voice. "Someone warned her." The dismal cloud that had settled around me lifted and I felt able to smile. If Sam had escaped. . . Then it came to me what Sam's escape could mean. Simmons would undoubtedly blame me, and that meant I might never get what he had promised me. The cold hand of fear gripped my heart and for a moment it felt as though it had stopped breathing. I was terrified, but not for myself.
"I don't know which of those names was Sam," I said, my voice quivering with fear. "I wouldn't have been able to warn her."
"Then who?"
"I don't know." I was sobbing, my eyes filling with tears as I thought of what Simmons could do. For an instant I considered telling him about Makepeace, but Makepeace was the only person who knew enough and was in a position to do anything to stop Simmons, and, unlike with me, Simmons had no hold over him.
"If I find out you've been lying then there will be strict consequences." Simmons didn't need to state what those consequences would be, I knew well enough. "Find Major Carter." He didn't wait for my answer before hanging up, and I lifted the beer can up again to empty it completely. But the shock had eliminated the drunken haze and beer could offer me no comfort. I'm not ashamed to say that I buried my head in my hands and cried. I'm ashamed about what I did next.