Prologue

She watched the mobile phone dance around on the surface of the bedside table as it vibrated. She never had the ringer on. It irritated her. Now the vibration was doing the same. Finally, it stopped, and she released the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. She climbed out of bed and wandered into the bathroom. She could hear the phone vibrating again as she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush and blocked out the sound by vigorously scrubbing her teeth. Her routine ablutions complete, she returned to the bedroom. The phone was buzzing again. She looked at the name displayed on the screen of the iPhone. Same caller. This time, she reached out and picked it up just before it juddered off the bedside table. She pressed the green button and raised the phone to her ear.

"Yes," she said curtly.

"Hendrik, you've been avoiding me. Fifteen missed calls this morning alone," came the disapproving male voice on the other end.

"I've been busy," she replied.

"Well, you're about to become a lot busier. I've got a job for you," he said.

"I'm taking a break," she snapped.

"You take a break when I tell you that you can take a break and now isn't the time. I'm sending you into…"

She removed the phone from her ear and stared at the screen for a moment before pressing the red 'end call' button and cutting him off.

She knelt beside the bed and felt around beneath until her hand connected with the plastic handle of her suitcase. Pulling it out, she dropped it onto the bed and rolled the release code into the lock. She threw open the lid and removed the thick brown package sat in the centre. A smile crept across her lips as she stroked it with her fingerstips, but she still couldn't bring herself to open it. She hadn't opened it in a very long time. She replaced it as though it were the most delicate of flowers. Time to move on, she thought to herself.

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Chapter One

Amelia Hendrik stuffed her laptop into her bag, snatched a piece of cold toast from the plate on the table and grabbed her keys. As she passed the mirror in the hallway she glanced sidelong at her reflection and then stopped dead. Her chestnut hair, which was pulled back from her face was escaping the loose fastenings already and her make-up was cursory at best but as usual, she was running late. Reaching up, she removed the toast from between her teeth and headed out of the door, slamming it shut. On the driveway sat a pristine white SUV which she viciously kicked as she passed. Another flat tyre meant she was taking a cab again. The vehicular violence didn't go unpunished however and she promptly tripped and dropped the keys. She heard a car pull up as she bent down, juggling her laptop bag, handbag and toast. She heard a car door open and footsteps on the gravel to the side of the driveway. She was surprised that the cab driver would even have noticed her struggling, but then she saw the boots; black and polished to such a shine she could see her reflection. They could not be mistaken as anything but military and they put her own, well-worn, rarely polished boots to shame. She raised her eyes and was greeted by a warm smile from a man who was certainly not a cab driver but who was squatting in front of her and picking up her keys. Over his shoulder, she could see a large black car, the door still open. Slowly, they both stood, Amelia never taking her eyes off the car and the officer never taking his eyes off Amelia.

"Major Hendrik?" he asked as he handed back her keys.

She removed the toast from her mouth. "Not for a few years," she replied, throwing the toast onto the driveway beneath the car. "I am Doctor Hendrik."

"I'm Major Davis, US Airforce. Can I help you with anything?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm your ride to Andrews. Your flight's waiting," he replied.

She frowned as she shoved her keys into her handbag. "Flight?" she queried. "Why would you…I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"To Colorado."

She sighed and looked at him. "Are you always this forthcoming, Major?" Her voice dripped sarcasm. Davis didn't respond. She glanced at her watch. "I have somewhere I need to be."

"You have an appointment with General Landry at the base in Colorado. Please, get into the car." He leant in towards her slightly, glancing furtively about him. "It's a matter of national security, Doctor Hendrick.

"I don't really care," she whispered in an equally confidential tone.

"I have a letter for you. General Sizemore asked me to deliver it personally." He withdrew the envelope from his inside pocket and held it out to her.

She seemed reluctant to take it at first but finally, she snatched it from him and ripped it open. As she read her face flushed and Davis could see her temper rising. Suddenly she screwed the letter up in her balled fist and rummaged in her bag for her mobile phone. Punching in the numbers as though they had personally offended her she waited, impatiently tapping her foot. Finally, somebody answered.

Davis didn't hear the name of the person she asked for, but he was glad he wasn't the recipient of the call. "Hendrik…H.E.N.D…look, just get him on the line…I honestly don't care if he's talking to the bloody President." There was a long pause. "What the hell is this all about?" Another long pause. She paced back and forth, staring at the ground, her free arm across her waist. "Are you serious?" She glanced over her shoulder at the waiting airman and lowered her voice. "I don't care. You have to understand…"

Again, there was a long silence. "You can't keep…You'd better." Her back was to Davis as she hung up, but he watched her carefully as she took a long, deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Amelia Hendrik was not at all what he had expected. He had read her file on the way to collect her, but nothing could have prepared him for the woman herself. Her biography had given her age but, in his opinion at least, she looked younger than her thirty-seven years. Her accent hinted at the many places she had lived. Predominantly it reminded him of the very many British television costume drama's he'd endured during the hours he had sat with his Anglophile mother before her memories had finally ebbed away until she no longer knew who he was. The way she rolled the letter 'r' on the end of her works, however, made it cleared she'd lived in the states for quite some time. Her eyes were green; a little too green, he thought and wondered if their colour was assisted by contact lenses. She was slightly shorter than him, although the inch of heel on her boots brought her almost to eye-level. The smart trouser suit she wore seemed completely at odds with the rather unkempt woman wearing it and he wondered why the Pentagon had decided this youngish woman was the best option over the dozens of more experienced specialists they must have had at their disposal. Not that he was objecting. There was something about her that he found intriguing if a little exasperating.

Amelia cleared her throat and he realised that he was still staring at her. "You are a very handsome man, Major Davis, and under other circumstances, I might be flattered by such close attention but perhaps we should get this over with," she said. "You'll need to bear with me. It seems from this letter I will be spending some time at the SGC." She thrust the letter into her bag before returning to her house and disappearing inside. Davis was as surprised by the house as he had been by the woman herself. Everything was in perfect order; obsessively so, he thought. He could hear her voice and couldn't decide if she was talking to herself as she slammed drawers and cupboard doors or was on the telephone. The banging stopped, and her voice was clearer.

"I assumed that you would have had a hand in it. Is this why you've been calling me relentlessly?...I don't disagree. I'm perfect for the job but I still don't really... You know how I feel about it. You promised…Alright…you've made your point but this has to be an end of it. I'll be in touch," she said, a bitterness in her voice as she hung up. Finally, she appeared again with a wheeled suitcase.

"Shall we go?" she barked.

He placed her luggage into the boot then held the car door open for her. Quickly retrieving a briefcase from the front passenger seat, he slid into the rear of the car beside her. She clipped on her seatbelt and then twisted in the leather seat to face Davis.

"So, apparently you're going to brief me?" she demanded. Davis flicked the clasps on the briefcase and opened it, but he hesitated for a moment. Pressing his lips together thoughtfully, he took a deep, audible breath and closed it again. He turned in his seat to face her, scowling slightly.

"Doctor Hendrik, I have no idea what your issue is with this assignment but frankly, we have a long journey ahead of us and I think that it would be easier on both of us if you stop being pissed with me and direct your anger in a more appropriate direction…or better still, get it under control."

She stared at him for a moment, stunned. The last person who had spoken to her like that had spent the next few hours in the local emergency room while they fixed his nose. But that had been a long time ago. She liked to think she'd mellowed since then. With the slightest inclination of her head, she acquiesced. Opening the briefcase again, he removed a buff coloured folder and handed it to her.

"This is everything you need to know for now. Please understand…the information in here and the project itself is classified. There is a contract that you're expected to sign." He twisted the top of his silver coloured Cross pen and handed it to her, expressionless.

"And if I chose not to sign?"

"I got the impression it was a direct order."

"I don't take orders, Major," Amelia replied, making a determined effort to control her tone despite the growing resentment.

"So I hear."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means I know you're no longer in the Airforce because you have an issue with authority. I know that you left before you were busted down to Captain."

"And I know that you didn't get that from my file. Have you been listening to gossip, Major Davis?"

He smiled. "I was told that, once you'd read the letter, you'd take the position."

"I bet you were," she muttered under her breath as she pulled the contract from the folder and scribbled her signature on the bottom, handing it back to Davis.

"You didn't have time to read that," he said. "I'd say that's a little risky?"

She snapped. "Would you? I'd say that it's largely irrelevant and really none of your concern," she replied sharply.

Davis said nothing. Amelia was silent as the car pulled away from the kerb. She watched him from the corner of her eye for a moment. He was staring directly ahead, studiously ignoring her, his mouth set in a hard line. She'd said that he was handsome in a fit of temper, but it was no less the truth. He was a very attractive man and the uniform he wore did nothing to detract from that. She reflected on the last few minutes, the way she'd spoken to him. He was justified in his decision to ignore her. She'd been a bitch. That wasn't unusual either, but he hadn't deserved it.

"I apologise, Major Davis," she said, exhaling audibly. He glanced at her briefly before looking out of his window. "I wasn't expecting…" she paused, "I suppose it doesn't matter now and it's certainly no excuse. I'm sorry…really. I'm also very curious about this project that I've heard so much about but seen nothing of."

Davis shuffled in his seat, turning to face her again. He lifted an eyebrow. "You've heard of it?"

"I worked for the IOA for a while. Part of a medical advisory. Nothing in detail though. More of a high-level overview. I'm naturally a curious person so I read as much as I was allowed."

"I see. Well, then I guess you're in luck." He smiled. She fleetingly wondered if he was married, glancing at his left hand, before quickly reminding herself that she was here to do a job. Relationships just gave people a hold over you. They were dangerous. They were a thing of the past.

"Doctor Hendrik?" Davis' voice broke through her thoughts.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about my cat," she lied, suddenly hoping her housekeeper wouldn't mind taking care of the nameless grey tabby that had adopted her when she had moved in.

"A cat?" he repeated dryly. She chose to ignore him.

"So, what do you do for the Airforce aside from babysitting duty?" she asked.

"That's classified," he replied. "But I do know that being a doctor doesn't pay as well as I'd thought. Either that or you're a kleptomaniac." He held out his hand. She stared blankly at him. "My pen?"

"Sorry!" she replied, her eyes widening in horror and handing it back to him. "There must be something we can talk about or this is going to be a very dull journey."

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I really can't comment," Davis replied.

"Ma'am?" she exclaimed. "Good Lord. I think I just gained about ten years."

"Sorry!"

"Will you be staying with me? Can you tell me that?" she asked and then realised how it might sound. She looked at him. "I meant, will you be with me all the…" She gave up.

The corners of his mouth turned up, betraying his amusement at her obvious embarrassment. He chose not to torment her any further. "General Sizemore at the Pentagon specifically asked me to work with you. It's likely that you'll have to go off-world at some point and the teams tend to be a little…reluctant to take a civilian with them."

She looked down at the folder again and sighed. "I bet," she muttered.

"But then, you're not exactly a civilian are you?"