2.

Little Soldier Boy

August 5th 1990, Minnesota

On Sunday morning Sara dropped him off in town so he could pick up a rental and head back to Colorado. She'd protested. He'd insisted. There was no way he was dragging her and Charlie all the way home just so he could pick up a few things before heading off to Florida.

"Stick to the plan Sara. We were going to stay up at the cabin until Wednesday, so stay. Head to your folks from there."

She didn't reply, but her body language told him she'd finally given in. She slumped back in the seat and started tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel. He unclipped his seatbelt and opened the truck's door but didn't step out. Instead, he twisted around to look at Charlie, all strapped up in his little seat, fast asleep. He always fell asleep in the car. Jack wanted to hug him, to say goodbye, but he didn't want to wake him either. Better to leave him sleeping. He was sure that Charlie would immediately pick up on the nervous tension and start crying, and if that happened Jack wasn't sure he'd be able to walk away.

He turned back around to face Sara, who'd obviously been thinking the same thing because she didn't even suggest waking Charlie. Her eyes were examining his face intently like she was trying to memorise him. He leaned over, released her seatbelt, and pulled her towards him. She wasn't surprised by his forcefulness, she just kept staring into his eyes until she was too close to focus on him. They kissed passionately for several minutes. It was possessive and harsh, so completely different from the tenderness of the previous morning. They were oblivious to the passersby who looked away in embarrassment.

Jack eventually broke their contact. He turned and stepped out of the truck. She grabbed his hand and squeezed. He felt sick inside, and suddenly paralysed with the fear of leaving his family behind.

"I love you, Jack."

He squeezed back, not wanting to let go. "I love you too."

Jack took one more look at his son, his little head flopped to the side, brown hair tumbling over his face, and nearly broke. Nearly. Sara knew it because she released his hand then. It was time to go.

Jack tipped the peak of his baseball cap to her and tried to smile, "See ya ma'am." This was a little routine they played out - strangers parting ways after a dirty weekend. She saluted him back.

"Watch your six flyboy."

He closed the truck door and she pulled back out onto the road and merged with the traffic. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and watched her until she was completely out of sight before heading for the rental office. He had nothing with him except the clothes on his back, his wallet, and his house keys. He felt like a man on the run. Hell, maybe he would be by this evening. He had a long drive ahead of him and he was planning on breaking a few speed limits. He wondered just how much a US Air Force Colonel could get away with.

August 6th 1990, Colorado Springs

It was roughly 5am the following morning when he pulled into the driveway. He didn't even bother to check the clock though because he was nearly dead on his feet, being carried along by caffeine and adrenaline. If he stopped for one minute he knew he'd pass out. He'd try and sleep on the plane later.

When he pushed open the front door he found the envelope containing his official assignment letter lying on the floor. He scooped it up and stuffed it in the inner pocket of his jacket, then headed into the kitchen for a glass of water. He'd had quite a few cups of coffee about two hours ago to help him make the final push and they'd left him dehydrated and jittery. His eyes felt like they were bulging out of his head. He scrubbed his hands over his face and tried to re-focus on the task at hand. Just get what you need and go Jack. He took the stairs two at a time, grabbed his duffel from the back of the hallway cupboard, and quickly filled it with the usual necessities. In the bathroom, he stopped to splash cold water on his face and clean his teeth before grabbing his bag and heading back out to the car.

The airport was practically deserted. Buying a ticket and heading through check-in was a breeze. They even let him keep his duffel as hand luggage, which he managed to force into one of the overhead lockers. Finally, he sank down into one of the seats. He pulled his cap down a little and tried to make himself as comfortable as he could. Commercial planes were just not built for people as tall as he was. And he hated flying commercial.

He sighed audibly, bone tired and relieved that he could finally just, stop, even if it was only for a little while. The flight was only about four hours. One of the nearby stewards must have heard him, she turned and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

"Jack. It's Jack." He wasn't ready for people to start calling him 'sir' just yet. "I'm OK thanks. I just wanna sleep for a bit."

She flashed him a smile and leaned towards him, "Been on the go for a while, Jack?"

"Yeah... could you wake me when we're landing, please?" He didn't want to be rude, but he really didn't feel like talking and her tone was flirty, which annoyed him.

"Sure." She straightened up and headed back down the aisle. He noticed that she glanced back at him.

Jack rubbed at his eyes. He wasn't stupid, he knew that women found him attractive. He was tall and well built, with sallow skin, light brown hair, and dark eyes, but he never really saw himself that way and it always surprised him when women tried to flirt with him. He tipped his head back against the seat and crossed his arms, rediscovering his assignment letter which was still tucked away inside his jacket. He'd forgotten about it. He'd also forgotten to call David. Damn. Too late for that now, he thought. He was actually too tired to care. He'd be at the base soon enough and could speak to David in person. He settled down further in the seat and let his head fall to one side. The whole drive down from Minnesota he'd been thinking about Sara and Charlie. He wondered, and not for the first time, if he'd been upset when he'd finally realised his daddy was gone. Jack closed his eyes and willed himself to push the thought out of his head. Part of his exhaustion was definitely emotional fatigue. He felt drained, and in the empty space he could feel the guilt and anxiety taking root again. He needed to lock this away for the time being because he desperately needed some sleep, and he needed to have his head clear of distractions. He hadn't read the letter yet, but he knew he'd likely been given command of a special operations team. There'd be no room for error. Bad judgement would get people killed. Right now, he was more than a father and a husband, even though that was more than enough responsibility for one man. He shook himself mentally and concentrated on his breathing instead. Eventually, he started feeling his muscles relax and he slipped into unconsciousness before the plane had even taxied out to the runway.

August 6th 1990, Florida

Jack was woken by the same steward that had spoken to him earlier. She had crouched down next to him in the aisle and had gone as far as actually putting her hand on his knee, which had him instantly awake. He suddenly felt in urgent need of a shower. He brushed her off as politely as he could and retrieved his bag. He really hated flying commercial.

It wasn't far to Hulburt Field and Jack hailed a taxi right outside the airport. As soon as the cab driver heard the destination he started talking about Vietnam and was thrilled when he found out Jack had served there. It was one of those assignments that Jack would rather forget. He'd been so very young at the time. Young and stupid, he thought, and then laughed to himself because he definitely wasn't young anymore, but could certainly still be referred to as stupid. After all, here he was after more than twenty-four hours solid traveling, standing outside the grounds of Air Force Special Operations Command with nothing but a duffel bag and an assignment notice which he hadn't even opened yet. In fact, he was here purely because an old friend and superior had left a message on his answering machine. Great Jack. Real smart. You're such an obliging little soldier boy O'Neill.

He felt conspicuous walking up to the security detail at the gate in his civvies. Clothes which he'd been in now for more than a day. He was rumpled and unshaven, with his baseball cap shoved on backwards to hide his messy hair. Oh, they were going to get a kick out of this. As he approached he could already tell they'd assumed he was civilian. They looked as though they were moving to cut him off. He thought wryly that he probably resembled some anti-military nutcase with a miniature armory slung over his shoulder. Jack contemplated just showing them his ID, but suddenly felt like having some fun. After all, he'd been the diligent and studious soldier, coming as soon as he was called. What was five minutes in the grand scheme of things? And if he could come out on top of this situation, all the better.

When he was close enough to the gate he stopped and waited for one of them to approach him.

"This is a restricted facility sir." The airman paused for effect. "Can we help you with something?"

"Yes, I'm sure you can." Jack drawled, cocking his head to the side.

"Sir, could you state your business please? Otherwise we'll have to ask you to move along." Still polite, but Jack could hear the irritation in his voice.

"I'd like to speak to one of your generals actually."

"I'm afraid that's not possible sir." The airman stated loudly. "We have a public affairs office which you are welcome to contact by phone or post. I'm sure they'd be happy to address any queries or issues you may have. Now, I'm going to need you to stand aside so I can let this vehicle through."

Jack glanced over at the car pulling up and then took a step towards the airman so that he was nearly right on top of him. The guy looked as though he was going to snap at any minute and Jack tried hard not to give himself away by grinning at him. The driver of the car was a young woman, blonde and blue eyed, she had her elbow stuck over the door and flashed the airman a smile, then gave Jack a quick once over, assessing the situation.

The airman snapped to attention, "Lieutenant Carter."

She returned the salute, "John, everything OK here?"

Before the airman could answer, Jack piped up, "No, actually, General Matthews is expecting me and I don't have a ride up to the main building. Colonel Jack O'Neill reporting for duty ma'am." He passed his ID over to the airman whose eyes widened in horror. Carter didn't even blink. He immediately guessed that she was from a military family, possibly with a high-ranking father. Rank obviously didn't intimidate her, although her manner was still respectful. She raised her hand to her forehead and gave him a casual salute. The airman quickly followed her example. His gesture was a little more emphatic.

"Uh, Sir. Sorry Sir. I'll get a hold of the General for you now."

"I can give you a ride up Colonel." The lieutenant tilted her head towards the empty seat to her right. Something in the tone of her voice told Jack she'd sussed out his little game.

"Excellent." Jack plucked his ID from the airman's hand and walked around to the passenger side. He dumped his duffel on the back seat and climbed in next to the young lieutenant. The second airman lifted the barrier and waved her through. "Thanks for the lift, Carter." He grinned openly now and noticed that she looked momentarily surprised. He wasn't sure whether she was reacting to his manner or the fact that he'd already picked up her name. He decided it was probably the latter.

"No problem, sir. " She smiled back at him. "Permission to speak freely?"

"Sure." He schooled his features into impassive neutrality.

"A little slick-sleeve hazing before breakfast, sir?"

She was almost reproachful, but Jack kept his features neutral. He paused for a beat so as not to seem defensive, and answered coolly. "Carter, have you seen me?" He indicated at his rumpled attire and waited for her to respond.

"Yes sir."

"I look like a nut-job."

"Yes sir." She smirked.

Jack narrowed his eyes at her but continued. "Someone was going to walk away from that situation embarrassed and it sure as hell wasn't going to be me."

She nodded in what appeared to be feigned understanding. Jack decided that he liked her attitude, ballsy but restrained. She also looked awfully young, and yet she was a lieutenant. The bar on the shoulder of her BDUs told him she was actually a First Lieutenant. It peaked his curiosity.

"What's your assignment Lieutenant?"

"I'm with the 16th, sir. I'll be co-piloting one of the Spectres."

Jack was genuinely impressed, but he didn't show it. He didn't like that he also reacted differently to female officers at times and he was sure this particular officer wouldn't appreciate any special acknowledgement. He berated himself silently. Any response he gave now would seem forced, so instead he reached back to pull his dog tags and sunglasses from a side pocket on his duffel.

She filled in the silence. "What's your assignment Colonel?"

Jack didn't answer. With his sunglasses balanced precariously on his thigh, he pulled his cap off and ran his hand through his hair, then slipped his tags over his head. It occurred to him that he still had no idea what he was doing here. Up at the cabin, he'd been incommunicado for days and he hadn't even thought to tune into the news on his way down from Minnesota. He preferred classical, and the classical stations never covered news items. In any case, his mind had been elsewhere. If there'd been some big, international, incident, he knew nothing about it.

He noted that she was still watching him out the corner of her eye. She suddenly seemed uncertain, the self-assuredness she'd possessed earlier giving way a little. Maybe she thought she'd crossed the line, said something she shouldn't have. Maybe it was something else entirely, but Jack still felt like an ass. He caught her eye and smiled at her, digging the letter out of his jacket pocket with his free hand. He held it up for her to see and flipped it over between his fingers.

"Unopened." He declared.

She looked surprised, but reassured. "You don't know, sir?"

"Haven't a clue." He stuffed the letter back inside his jacket.

She pulled the car over and stopped. They'd arrived up at the main building.

She nodded at him and smiled. "Good luck sir."

Jack put on his aviators and shifted his weight so he could push his cap into the back pocket of his jeans. She was still watching him. Her expression was inscrutable. Jack imagined she was wishing he'd hurry up and get the hell out of the car already. "You too Lieutenant." He jumped out and retrieved his bag from the back seat, then leaned back into the still open passenger door and added, "Thanks again for the lift."

"No problem Colonel."

He straightened up, slammed the door, and stepped away from the car. For some reason she didn't pull off, so he reached out and slapped the roof twice with the palm of his hand. She got the message, moving off nearly immediately. He turned to head into the building. OK O'Neill, time to find out what this is all about.