A few years wallowing in drunken misery had seriously improved my ability
to hold down my drink. I didn't even have that much of a hangover the next
day. I discovered I'd finished off the last of the beer the previous night
so I couldn't even distract myself from the hideous task of trying to find
Sam. I had a computer set up in the kitchen, state of the art with all
kinds of modern conveniences. Simmons had made it so that I couldn't blame
any failure to find out names on my computer. I sat down, and started to go
through the records. It would help if they'd told me whom it was Sam had
been posing as. At least I could use that as an excuse.
I'm not sure what time it was that the doorbell rang, probably shortly after lunchtime, but I hadn't eaten anything all day. I couldn't think who it could be, as far as I knew, Simmons was in America. I was more than happy to have him as far away from me as possible. I got up and went to the door. I don't know who I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the person standing there.
"Sam!" I looked around, trying to see if there was anyone I recognised out in the street, anyone that worked for Simmons. I didn't see anyone, and quickly pulled her inside, feeling the steady gaze of the camera on my back. We studied each other for a while, noting the changes. She'd died her hair to a light brown colour and let it grow long. It suited her. She was wearing a red dress that looked wonderful on her, even if it was rather dirty and present. It was a tense moment, probably for her as well as me. I was scared of myself and what I was planning to do to her, not sure if I had the strength to do what I needed to. Having her standing there in front of me made it even harder for me to do what I had to. But I couldn't put it off forever.
"How are you?" I asked, amazed how my voice sounded. It sounded shock and surprised, which I was, but it didn't sound nervous or guilty. Guilty of a crime I was yet to commit.
"I've been better," she said, which was clear. Then she smiled at me relaxing slightly, friendship and trust mocking me from her gaze. "It's good to see you," she said, with no idea she would be better off a never seeing me again. I felt tears of shame welling up behind my eyes and I wasn't sure if I could keep my face happy. So I pulled her into a hug, so I could stare at the door behind her while I blinked back the tears. She hugged me back, never suspecting what I was planning. I guess I'd become a good actor over the years, and here I was acting like a loyal friend.
"How did you find me?" I asked when I'd composed myself again. I needed to know, Simmons had done a brilliant job of hiding me. And it might clear my name completely so that I could gain my promised reward.
"Makepeace found me and gave me your address." I know I panicked then. She wasn't to know there was a camera in the hall, relaying every word to Simmons. She had just told Simmons he had a spy in his ranks. I wasn't sure how I should reply to that when she carried on. "Where's Susanne?"
It took me a moment to think up an excuse for her not being there. It wasn't like I could tell her the truth. "She's just popped down to the shops. Do you want something to drink while we wait for her? Coffee?"
"Yes, please."
"Make yourself at home." I indicated the lounge. Simmons hadn't gone in for comfort when he picked my accommodation. My computer was probably worth about ten times the value of the house and all its contents. Sam went to the lounge, and I moved into the kitchen, where I allowed myself a silent breakdown. I turned on the coffee machine and just let out the tears I'd been holding back in there. I wasn't sure I could go through with it, I wasn't even sure it would do any good. Simmons would soon know that I'd been hiding the fact Makepeace had been working as a double agent, I might have already thrown it all away. I might as well just cut my losses and get out with Sam while I still had a chance. But that would destroy any little hope I still had left. There wasn't just Sam to think of, or I would have just gone then. But if there was even the slightest chance I could regain the position I had just lost by Makepeace and Sam's trust in me, then I had to take it. Even if that meant. . .
The coffee machine finished and I poured out two mugs. I went to a cupboard and got out a jar of sedatives. I dropped a couple into a mug and stirred it in when I added the milk. I grabbed a kleenex and wiped my eyes, checking my reflection in the oven door. If Sam suspected. . .
I went back to Sam, considering the possibility of giving her the wrong mug. She would know something was up and escape; I would be able to pretend to Simmons that it was a mistake. But I knew Simmons wouldn't buy it. I handed her a mug and sat down next to her.
"We've got so much to catch up on." My tone was light and friendly, surprising myself. How could I sound so calm when my insides were a raging tempest of conflicting emotions? Every compassionate feeling in me wanted to scream at Sam to get out while she still had a chance. "Do you know where the others are?" I hated myself for saying that, and I still do. I was trying to buy my reward with more suffering. It was bad enough I was doing this to Sam, but Jack, Teal'c, and Janet as well? It's just one of the reasons I hate myself. How could anyone have ever thought I was a decent person?
Sam shook her head, "I haven't heard from any of them since we left, none of us knew where the others were going. You?" I shook my head, relieved that my words wouldn't harm any more than necessary, and watched as she swallowed a mouthful of coffee. She looked puzzled and I began to think there was hope. If she realised that it was drugged then she might be able to get far enough away before it had any affects. That hope was crushed as she drank some more. She was doomed, as was my soul. I kept talking, trying to act calm.
"Susanne and I have been looking at records and things like that, trying to get any information, but we've had no luck." I could see the sedatives begin to take an affect, but she kept on drinking. Her eyelids kept drifting down, and she had to force herself to stay awake. I knew she wasn't paying any attention to me, but kept talking anyway. "We were hoping one of you would find out where we were, I guess we got lucky there." I smiled. I tried to think of something to say next but didn't need to, Sam suddenly dropped the mug and I knew she'd worked it out. She got to her feet, leaning her arm on the back of the sofa for support. My immediate reaction was to reach out and try to help, but she pulled away from me. She hated me; I saw it in her eyes. She managed a few staggering steps towards the door, before she fell. I was there at her side, catching her, lowering her gently, making sure she didn't hurt herself. I couldn't do anything else for her, but at least I could stop her being in any more pain than necessary.
"I'm sorry, Sam," I told her in a futile gesture before she passed out. There wasn't any point in saying it, because there was nothing I could do that would make this up to her. I had betrayed her, and everything I knew to be right at the same time. I hugged the unconscious body of my former friend to my chest and cried.
I'm not sure what time it was that the doorbell rang, probably shortly after lunchtime, but I hadn't eaten anything all day. I couldn't think who it could be, as far as I knew, Simmons was in America. I was more than happy to have him as far away from me as possible. I got up and went to the door. I don't know who I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the person standing there.
"Sam!" I looked around, trying to see if there was anyone I recognised out in the street, anyone that worked for Simmons. I didn't see anyone, and quickly pulled her inside, feeling the steady gaze of the camera on my back. We studied each other for a while, noting the changes. She'd died her hair to a light brown colour and let it grow long. It suited her. She was wearing a red dress that looked wonderful on her, even if it was rather dirty and present. It was a tense moment, probably for her as well as me. I was scared of myself and what I was planning to do to her, not sure if I had the strength to do what I needed to. Having her standing there in front of me made it even harder for me to do what I had to. But I couldn't put it off forever.
"How are you?" I asked, amazed how my voice sounded. It sounded shock and surprised, which I was, but it didn't sound nervous or guilty. Guilty of a crime I was yet to commit.
"I've been better," she said, which was clear. Then she smiled at me relaxing slightly, friendship and trust mocking me from her gaze. "It's good to see you," she said, with no idea she would be better off a never seeing me again. I felt tears of shame welling up behind my eyes and I wasn't sure if I could keep my face happy. So I pulled her into a hug, so I could stare at the door behind her while I blinked back the tears. She hugged me back, never suspecting what I was planning. I guess I'd become a good actor over the years, and here I was acting like a loyal friend.
"How did you find me?" I asked when I'd composed myself again. I needed to know, Simmons had done a brilliant job of hiding me. And it might clear my name completely so that I could gain my promised reward.
"Makepeace found me and gave me your address." I know I panicked then. She wasn't to know there was a camera in the hall, relaying every word to Simmons. She had just told Simmons he had a spy in his ranks. I wasn't sure how I should reply to that when she carried on. "Where's Susanne?"
It took me a moment to think up an excuse for her not being there. It wasn't like I could tell her the truth. "She's just popped down to the shops. Do you want something to drink while we wait for her? Coffee?"
"Yes, please."
"Make yourself at home." I indicated the lounge. Simmons hadn't gone in for comfort when he picked my accommodation. My computer was probably worth about ten times the value of the house and all its contents. Sam went to the lounge, and I moved into the kitchen, where I allowed myself a silent breakdown. I turned on the coffee machine and just let out the tears I'd been holding back in there. I wasn't sure I could go through with it, I wasn't even sure it would do any good. Simmons would soon know that I'd been hiding the fact Makepeace had been working as a double agent, I might have already thrown it all away. I might as well just cut my losses and get out with Sam while I still had a chance. But that would destroy any little hope I still had left. There wasn't just Sam to think of, or I would have just gone then. But if there was even the slightest chance I could regain the position I had just lost by Makepeace and Sam's trust in me, then I had to take it. Even if that meant. . .
The coffee machine finished and I poured out two mugs. I went to a cupboard and got out a jar of sedatives. I dropped a couple into a mug and stirred it in when I added the milk. I grabbed a kleenex and wiped my eyes, checking my reflection in the oven door. If Sam suspected. . .
I went back to Sam, considering the possibility of giving her the wrong mug. She would know something was up and escape; I would be able to pretend to Simmons that it was a mistake. But I knew Simmons wouldn't buy it. I handed her a mug and sat down next to her.
"We've got so much to catch up on." My tone was light and friendly, surprising myself. How could I sound so calm when my insides were a raging tempest of conflicting emotions? Every compassionate feeling in me wanted to scream at Sam to get out while she still had a chance. "Do you know where the others are?" I hated myself for saying that, and I still do. I was trying to buy my reward with more suffering. It was bad enough I was doing this to Sam, but Jack, Teal'c, and Janet as well? It's just one of the reasons I hate myself. How could anyone have ever thought I was a decent person?
Sam shook her head, "I haven't heard from any of them since we left, none of us knew where the others were going. You?" I shook my head, relieved that my words wouldn't harm any more than necessary, and watched as she swallowed a mouthful of coffee. She looked puzzled and I began to think there was hope. If she realised that it was drugged then she might be able to get far enough away before it had any affects. That hope was crushed as she drank some more. She was doomed, as was my soul. I kept talking, trying to act calm.
"Susanne and I have been looking at records and things like that, trying to get any information, but we've had no luck." I could see the sedatives begin to take an affect, but she kept on drinking. Her eyelids kept drifting down, and she had to force herself to stay awake. I knew she wasn't paying any attention to me, but kept talking anyway. "We were hoping one of you would find out where we were, I guess we got lucky there." I smiled. I tried to think of something to say next but didn't need to, Sam suddenly dropped the mug and I knew she'd worked it out. She got to her feet, leaning her arm on the back of the sofa for support. My immediate reaction was to reach out and try to help, but she pulled away from me. She hated me; I saw it in her eyes. She managed a few staggering steps towards the door, before she fell. I was there at her side, catching her, lowering her gently, making sure she didn't hurt herself. I couldn't do anything else for her, but at least I could stop her being in any more pain than necessary.
"I'm sorry, Sam," I told her in a futile gesture before she passed out. There wasn't any point in saying it, because there was nothing I could do that would make this up to her. I had betrayed her, and everything I knew to be right at the same time. I hugged the unconscious body of my former friend to my chest and cried.