Sam stared steadfastly at the DHD well after she had finished dialing Earth. Her team was in front of her and to her left, kneeling near the Gate, and she couldn't look at them. She just couldn't.

The fact that whoring herself out had been the only way to keep them from seeing a firing squad somehow still didn't make her feel better. Her hands had shaken badly as she'd dialed, and she knew that seeing the looks on their faces would completely shatter the tiny thread of control she held.

The Gate swooshed to life, drawing her attention, but her eyes quickly slid shut as the tall man pressed up behind her and wrapped a possessive arm around her. "Send them through," he ordered.

"No!" She really wished he were about five feet further away as she spun to face him. "I told you you can't do that. They'll die." When he merely shrugged, she pressed, "We had a deal!"

"Indeed," the man smirked, "and you upheld your end nicely. But I merely promised to send them through the Gate, no more."

If not for the twenty thugs that surrounded him, she might have killed him on the spot. Gouging out his eyes sounded really, really good. But as it was, she settled for shoving her way out from between him and the DHD and backing away.

Unfortunately, though the rope had disappeared, it had been replaced by a decorative piece of solid silver that surrounded her neck and attached to a chain, so she didn't get far. The man had told her many times how well it suited her, and it gave her the ill feeling that she was officially his favorite new toy. The slinky dress he'd made her wear did nothing to dispel that view.

"Well, if you expect any future cooperation," she spat, "you will let them enter the iris code."

She knew she had him there, and she fiercely held her captor's eyes. She was almost positive he wasn't willing to lose his pet that quickly. Almost.

Without ever breaking eye contact, he stepped close and ran his hands around her hips to her rear, his fingers finding all the familiar places they had an hour ago. She gritted her teeth against the wince that threatened, but she knew she'd won.

"Free the glassed one," he ordered absently, a new goal in mind as his mouth sank to her neck. She could feel the intensity of his lust for her and it made her want to vomit. And as he shoved her roughly against the DHD, her imagination began sending images unbidden to the forefront – worst-case scenarios. Surely he wouldn't rape her here, in front of all his men?

In front of all her men?

She shoved him back, hard. "Business first," she growled. Then, because she had her back to them (which she considered a blessing), she called, "Daniel?"

His voice was thick, and she knew he was crying. "It's done, Sam."

"Then go."

But there was silence behind her, and she knew she should have expected it – they would never leave her by choice, no matter what she said. A head nod from their leader fixed that, and a scuffle ensued.

"Wait."

The familiar, stone cold voice of her CO almost broke her, and she sagged heavily against the dialing device.

"I wanna know your name."

The leader shrugged nonchalantly – there couldn't be any harm. "I am Lewen, magistrate of the third district."

"Great. I'll be sure to write that on the Maverick that blows you to pieces. I'll even sign it for you on behalf of the whole SGC."

Suddenly, Sam realized her avoidance theory had been all wrong. Even if Daniel couldn't keep it together, Teal'c and the colonel would – for her sake. And the sheer, grating anger in his words, in this situation, anyway, was just a little bit heartwarming.

Yes, she knew that probably made her insane; she didn't care. She spun on her heel and managed to catch his eye just for a half-second before he disappeared into the event horizon, but it was more than enough.

Colonel O'Neill was going to kill him. Some way, somehow.

And so, even as Lewen dragged her away from the Gate and set a brisk pace down the path – he had a goal in mind, clearly – Sam felt a whole lot better.

~/~

General Hammond might have laughed at the prospect of his flagship team being shoved through the Stargate with their hands tied behind their backs.

If it had been all four of them.

And if their expressions weren't so damn grim.

Before he could even react, Colonel O'Neill met his eyes through the glass to the control room. "We need men, sir. Lots of them. And some serious artillery. Now."

"What the hell happened out there, Colonel?" the general asked.

Daniel, his hands freed by one of the airmen in the room, angrily swiped the tears from his face. "They kidnapped Sam."

Hammond's heart sank, but the effect of those words was nothing compared to the next set from Colonel O'Neill.

"The son of a bitch has already raped her once, and he's about to do it again."

A fist to the stomach would have hurt less. They all knew the risks of deploying women to the front lines, but still, it was sickening. And Sam was like a surrogate child – he had prayed over and over again that she would never have to live through such trauma.

"Sir," Walter spoke up, "SGs-13 and -18 deploy in twenty – they should be geared up. And SG-3 is in the infirmary today for their physicals."

For the millionth time in his years at the SGC, General Hammond wondered what he'd done to deserve such fantastic soldiers under his command. The sergeant had saved their asses more than once by keeping his head when it all went wrong. "Get them up here," he ordered. "The mission is scrapped. They're all going with SG-1."