Teal'c found her in the base gym. She was surrounded by several other base personnel, some running on the treadmills, others lifting weights. Sam was taking out her anger on a punching bag, an activity Teal'c had found fascinatingly pointless when he had first arrived on Earth. The ratty grey Air Force shirt she wore was damp, and she had tied a bandana around her forehead to keep sweat from running into her eyes. So focused was she upon the bag before her, she did not notice Teal'c.
"Major Carter," he said. "General Hammond requests your presence."
Breathing heavily, Sam looked up. "Colonel O'Neill is back already?"
The Jaffa inclined his head with that familiar half-smile she had come to expect. "Indeed."
Sam stripped off the red boxing gloves and the bandana and stowed them in her locker. She took the stairs two at a time, not bothering to shower or change. Hammond's door was open. She knocked anyway.
"It's open," came the general's voice.
"You wanted to see me, sir?"
"Close the door and have a seat," he said. Sam did so. "Colonel O'Neill has returned from Kelowna."
When he didn't go on, Sam leaned forward in her seat. "And?"
"He didn't get very far with Mr. Quinn."
"Did he deliver the letter?"
"Well, yes. But you and I both know Jack. He can be a bit . . ." Hammond paused, searching for the least offensive word.
"Abrasive, sir?"
Hammond grinned. "Right. Anyway, I've decided to send you. See if you can't find out more about what happened on that planet. And get a feeling for Mr. Quinn; he may be able to help us, even if his government can't. Do what you can, Major."
"Yes, sir," Sam said, rising. "I'll be ready to leave in an hour."
The Kelownans were not openly hostile when Sam arrived in their gate room, but neither were they as welcoming as they had been upon SG-1's first visit. She inquired after Jonas Quinn, and was directed to a remote wing of the facility usually reserved for research. Sure enough, the young advisor was immersed in a book when she found him.
"Mr. Quinn?" she said hesitantly, knocking on the open door frame. The room was small, the walls completely obscured by heavy wooden bookshelves filled to the brim with books. A single dusty window lit the room with watery sunlight. Jonas reclined in a wooden chair, his long legs propped up on the desk that had been crammed into the room.
He glanced up. "Major Carter."
"Mr. Quinn. May I come in?"
"Of course," Jonas said, looking like he would rather she not. "What are you doing here? Colonel O'Neill has already been by to deliver your government's apology letter."
"Yeah," Sam muttered. "Look, Mr. Quinn –"
"Please, call me Jonas."
"Jonas," Sam said, closing the door behind her. "I'm here to find out what really happened in that lab."
Jonas opened his mouth to give her the same rehearsed, politically ambiguous version he had been ordered to give – but something in her face said he couldn't. He carefully marked his page and stood, their faces barely inches apart. He had to give her credit; she was obviously uncomfortable but did not back down. When he spoke, it was as quietly as he could, his voice low and dark.
"Do you realize what you are asking me to do?"
"Tell me."
His eyes were searching, looking for her motivations behind hers. "You are asking me to betray my own government on the word of someone I just met. If you were in my position, would you?"
Sam grabbed Jonas by the collar, spun him around and pushed him up against the wall. Her eyes flashed. "Daniel is a good man, and he is dying! You owe it to him to tell the truth!"
"Shhh!" Jonas said, wide-eyed. Sam loosened her grip on his lapel. "You're right, Sam. You're absolutely right. But what good will it do? Daniel is still dying. The scientists from our lab have already. The truth won't change any of that."
"Daniel didn't sabotage anything, did he?"
Jonas sighed and looked down. "No. His quick thinking probably saved my entire nation, if not all of Langara."
"Tell me."
And finally, he did. The massive nuclear reaction, the lead scientist's flight from the lab, his own inability to act, and Daniel's selfless heroism. As she listened, Sam swelled with an odd sense of pride for her friend and teammate.
"Thank you," Sam said when Jonas had finished. "Now, what are you going to do about it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Daniel spoke very highly of you," Sam said. Surprising both of them, she brought her hand up and touched his cheek. All of her previous anger had evaporated. "You need to step up, Jonas. Be the man Daniel thought he saw in you." She smiled and turned away, her hand on the doorknob.
"Sam, wait," Jonas said, but he was at a loss. He swallowed hard. Never before had he felt so conflicted. "What should I do?"
She shrugged. "Do what's right, Jonas. You know where to find us." In a moment she was gone, leaving behind her the memory of her touch on his cheek and the faint scent of peppermint soap.
The familiar alarm blared throughout the base, announcing an incoming wormhole. Sam raced to the gate control room, where Walter and General Hammond stood ready.
"It's the Kelownan gate, sir," Walter said.
"Open the iris," Hammond said.
The metal plates slid back to reveal the shimmering event horizon of an established wormhole. A man emerged from it, carrying a box, and the stargate winked out behind him. It was Jonas. Sam's heart leapt at the sight of him. She descended the stairs to the gate room to meet him, Hammond close behind.
Their eyes met. Sam smiled. "Daniel was right about you."
