TITLE: KALEIDOSCOPE – Part 2
Warnings, disclaimer, etc in part one
****** WINTER
******
Jack stamped down the control room stairs to the 'gate room with Lt. Cl. Ferretti of SG-3 and Major Marx of SG-6 following in his wake.
They were finally going back. After an interminable Search & Rescue briefing and delays over what the off-world MALP could detect, they were finally going back. The area surrounding the DHD on PX7-253 was eerily quiet. There were no sign of ground forces, or of any aerial reconnaissance. But there was no SG-7 or Major Carter. They had delayed, and delayed too damn long in Jack's opinion.
As he rounded the corner from the stairs, he was faced with four, very determined looking people. Teal'c stood off to one side at the ready, clenching his staff weapon. His wounds were not serious and he was to be second through the 'gate. Daniel was fiddling with his glasses and Jonas was practically standing at attention. Pale-faced, Janet clutched an emergency medical pack to her chest so tightly that her knuckles whitened.
Jack began quietly, addressing the three friends who were not on this mission list. "Guys, I know you want to do this, but you know I can't let you." He silenced the outburst of protests with an upraised hand. "This is a potentially life threatening S&R mission, the SG units in there," he indicated the 'gate room, "...know their jobs. Janet, there are two very experienced field medics on SG-6; I know they're good, because you trained them. There are people needing your help *here*. I promise as soon as I know anything, you will." Looking her over, he noted she looked like hell and realized he probably did as well.
"Daniel, I need you to go contact Nemtesh and see if the Tok'ra there can get hold of Jacob, ASAP." Daniel began to protest, but Jack cut him off with a brusque hand slice. "No, Daniel, not this time." Jack found himself reasoning in a gentle voice, surprised he could do so with his stomach tying itself in knots. He couldn't completely rely on Daniel's reactions since his descension, and Janet Fraiser could use her friend's support.
He swallowed and made a conscious effort to steady his voice. "Jonas, go see Hammond and check if he needs a hand getting hold of Joe Faxon, please." Jonas nodded, muttered a quiet: "Yes sir," and turned to leave. Jack raised his arm and held Jonas' shoulder briefly; he was suddenly proud of the way the young man was trying to control his emotional nature. Jack looked levelly at Teal'c. "Lets go." He jerked his head to the now open 'gate that was swallowing up a FRED laden with supplies.
Jack marched up the ramp. Even though he was not part of either of the deployed units, he was the senior officer and the person who knew Carter's last known position. As such, it was he who would command the mission to locate and extract SG-7 and Major Carter. SG-1's Major Carter. HIS Major Carter. He stepped into the swirling void and felt the cold pull of the distorting eddies on his body. His molecules came apart with a familiar sensation, streaming along the artificial singularity and coalescing on the other side. He stepped through, his P-90 raised. The immediate impression was that the area was deserted. The other unit soldiers emerged from the 'gate and raced to take up their assigned places. A column of black smoke was coming from the village. From his cover behind the DHD, Jack ground his teeth; something or some *one* was being burned.
Shit.
Ferretti headed off to scout the village with SG-3 in a tight formation. SG-6 was accompanying Colonel O'Neill to locate Major Carter, and a decision regarding SG-7 would be made once the area had been secured. He steadied his grip on his weapon and pulled off his sunglasses. It was so quiet. Nothing could be heard. Nothing except crystal twists of birdsong that seemed completely at odds with the pall of death smoke off to his left.
Major Marx appeared beside him. "This way, sir?" She indicated the line of the forest. The forest where he had left his second in command less than three hours ago. Jack snapped his sunglasses back on and pointed with his P-90, "Yes, this way, Major, bring up the rear." He strode out, conscious of the scrambles of the other team hastily shouldering supplies behind him.
When they reached the last known position of Major Carter, of course, she wasn't there. He knew that she wouldn't be, but he had hoped the Jaffa would not concern themselves with a badly injured female. The tree debris that had previously prevented him from freeing his second was now piled to one side. Someone had organized this. Jaffa organized into tree moving duty by...Ba'al? Jack strictly forbade any memories from his incarceration by Ba'al to enter his mind, but they came anyway.
Ba'al had Carter.
Fuck.
********
Teal'c attempted to track the enemy Jaffa movements, and this led them to the village. The smoke was beginning to dissipate as SG-6 approached, Jack taking point, and Teal'c covering their sixes. Ferretti met them at the village entrance in response to Marx's radioed notification – the same entrance where Jack, Daniel and Sam had been standing that very morning. His face said it all. Normally, Louis Ferretti wore an expression of boyish impishness. He was a popular, experienced commander; leading by example, always ready to diffuse a bad situation with humour. Now his slim face was drawn, and his mouth was a thin, tight line as he faced Colonel O'Neill.
"It's bad, sir. Looks like the bastards blasted some of the folks that were left and then herded the rest into that hut..." he pointed, "...and set fire to it. It seems like they were alive when...." his voice tailed off and he shrugged.
Jack cleared his throat. The smell of smoke...and something else...was strong. "Any sign of Major Carter?"
The two soldiers stared at one another.
"Not that we can tell, sir, but there are signs that a small ring transporter was used on the east side, so possibly a Teltac?" Ferretti pointed again. He faced Jack's gaze squarely.
Jack nodded. "And no SG-7?" he asked, sharply indicating his head to the charnel house ahead of them.
"No, sir." Ferretti seemed relieved.
Jack became aware that he had several officers standing around with nothing to do, except observe the consequences of a military 'some you win, some you lose' scenario.
"Marx!" he barked. Julia Marx practically jumped to his side at attention. Jack recalled it was her first command as she and Ferretti stood before him, eager for direction. They had more pressing matters than some unfortunate civilians who were beyond their help - he had to think clinically or risk betraying his emotions to the junior officers. He was good at this; practiced. They had to locate SG-7, if they were still alive and on this planet. Sam Carter had been taken to god-only-knows-where, so was also beyond their help at this time. The responsibility of command was weighing heavily on Jack's shoulders. He was their leader. He was supposed to issue a few orders, wind them up, let them go and everyone would get home without a scratch. But not this time.
********
Three hours later, Jack, Teal'c and SG-3 and SG-6 were traipsing back through the 'gate with two full body bags in tow. Captain Lynch and Sgt. Roy were located; their lifeless, staff blasted bodies concealed in some undergrowth near the base camp.
Jack was the last to emerge from the wormhole and the first thing he noted was Jacob Carter and Joe Faxon staring down at him from the briefing room window. Her father and her husband.
Piss.
General Hammond waited at the base of the ramp, his expression firm, and his arms held stiffly by his side. Jack knew the General had been apprised of the situation, because he had ordered Ferretti to radio ahead - there would be no surprises this time.
Hammond's voice was sympathetic. "Jack, Jacob and Ambassador Faxon are here. Could you spare them a few minutes before your post mission physical?" Although it was phrased as a question, Jack knew it was a demand and he nodded a curt assent. He followed his CO out of the 'gate room and up the stairs to the briefing room, his heart sinking with every step. He had faced really crappy situations before, but he had a notion that nothing could be as bad as facing the father and the husband of someone... someone he cared for. More than he was supposed to.
Joe Faxon was staring at him as he topped the stairs and Jack was grateful for General Hammond's diversionary: "Shall we go into my office?"
Jacob's mouth was tight and his brow furrowed as he passed Jack, a myriad of unspoken questions in his shrewd eyes; the older general was firmly in emotional-lockdown mode.
As Jack stood to attention in front of his CO's desk, he could feel Faxon's gaze boring into him. He looked up to finally meet his gaze, only to find the younger man snapping his head away as he sat next to Jacob.
General Hammond cleared his throat. "Colonel O'Neill, while you were gone, we were fortunate to contact both General Carter and Ambassador Faxon. They have been informed of the situation...and Major Carter's 'condition'...and would be grateful for any additional information that you may have at this time." He nodded at Jack, and then sat down heavily behind his desk.
Jack nodded back stiffly. "Yes, sir." He turned towards Jacob. "I am sorry to say, there is no other information that I can provide at this time as to the location and the status of your daughter, sir." He paused. "And your wife, Ambassador. However, I can assure you I will do my utmost to secure her safe recovery."
"Oh, really? Was it *safe* to let my wife, my *pregnant* wife, enter a dangerous situation like this?" Joe Faxon's voice was sarcastic and demanding.
Jack was expecting this and stole a glance at his CO. Hammond's stony look told him that this conversation had already taken place with George getting the full brunt of the ambassador's thinly disguised fury. He was not a man to absolve responsibility by passing the blame onto Janet, so he held his tongue.
"Not got an answer Mr.' Quip-of-the-day'?'' Joe continued. "Or are you happy she's gone?"
Jack braced himself. "Don't be-"he caught himself. Swallowing, he recited diplomacy 101. "It appears a mistake was made. Of course I'm not 'happy'."
Faxon frowned. "Oh, really? Could I have that in writing?"
"Ambassador-"General Hammond tried to cut in, but Faxon was having none of it.
"I've noticed Sam has been coming home quiet and upset lately...have anything to do with that, *Colonel*?" The emphasis on Jack's rank was stinging. "Oh, she won't talk, security aside. She won't hear a bad word against her *adored* commanding officer, Jumping Jack Flash here-"
"Joe, that's enough." Jacob Carter's moderate voice cut through and this time the younger man acquiesced. Jack stared at the floor, absorbing everything.
"I apologize." Joe Faxon swallowed nervously and ran a hand through his dark wavy hair. "I...it's just so difficult. I went to work this morning...a regular day. Now I'm told my wife is expecting our first child, but I can't speak to her because she's lost, and may be dead by now."
"Son, we understand." Hammond's Texan drawl was calming. "All of us here have lost someone they loved very much. But in all likelihood, Sam is not dead. If this Goa'uld, Ba'al, wanted her dead, he would have killed her on the planet. She has been taken somewhere; we just have to find her. Selmak, I believe you may have more information?" He gave the Tok'ra an encouraging nod.
Jacob Carter dipped his head a fraction and when he raised it again, the whites of his eyes were just dulling from the tell-tale glow that indicated the Tok'ra symbiote had taken control of the host's body. Jack swallowed. Despite the fact he trusted Jacob Carter, and had risked his life to save the acerbic general, he could not get used to the fact that he was a snake- head.
When Jacob opened his mouth, it was Selmak who spoke.
"The Tok'ra have been attempting to monitor Ba'al's movements for some time. The destruction of his stronghold by the rival system lords, orchestrated by the SGC, ensured his rapid flight to a distant sector. However, his destruction was not as encompassing as we had hoped. He has recruited some followers and is attempting to form an alliance against some of the system lords who attacked him. The Tok'ra intelligence believe that revenge is not the only motive, and that he wishes to secure more power and resources for himself."
Hammond nodded: "Was that why Ba'al's forces were scouting PX7-253, because of the Naquadah?" he asked.
Selmak shrugged in return. "We can only speculate on their motives for being there at this point, but we believe it was *not* Ba'al who captured Samantha. We are supposing it was an ally of his, named Mot."
Jack jerked his head up from where he had been examining his boots. "Whoa! Whaddya mean you can't speculate on their motives for being on '253? And didn't we get rid of Mot on PX-whatever? Where Jonas had those visions?"
Selmak responded. "To answer your second question, apparently not."
Jack blew out a breath. "Let me take a wild guess - a sarc.?"
Selmak nodded in response and continued. "Furthermore, we were not aware that any other mineral surveys had been performed on the planet you have designated as PX7-253. There has been no other alien presence in this area other than yourselves. How would they know about the rich mineral resources?"
Jack stared at Jacob Carter's face. "Then *why* were they there?"
Jacob closed his eyes. A flicker passed across the eyelids and when he opened them again, Jack knew he was talking to Jacob again. "Before I left Nemtesh, after getting this 'news', I made some quick enquiries." He nodded toward George Hammond who was still sitting stony faced behind his desk. "It seems as though Ba'al is pissed at you, Jack."
Jack chewed his lip. "Oh, yeah, I wonder why that might be." His head jerked again. "Oh, *please* don't tell me that bastard was looking for *me*! How would he know where to look?"
Jacob tilted his head to one side and looked pointedly at Jack.
Jack swallowed. "Hold on, here. You, well, Selmak – whatever – said that it wasn't Ba'al who's got Sa...Major Carter; it was Mot." Jack quickly corrected himself, acutely aware of Faxon's steady stare.
Jacob nodded. "They are allies, Jack. Well, kinda. I think Mot is pissed at you as well. You seem to make a habit of this."
There was silence for a moment. Jack fiddled with the corner of his BDU shirt. He could see Joe Faxon's right index finger tapping against the arm of his chair, rapid but erratic.
"Jacob, what intel have you got on Mot?" Jack finally asked.
"Not much that I know of, but I'm going straight back to Nemtesh to find out what I can." Jacob's answer was resigned as he got up from his seat.
Jack bit his lip again. "You know, Jacob, Mot never got a look at Sam; she was here when he locked us up. He won't know who he has." Jack wanted to say something more to the worried father, but found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Jacob's nod was shallow and he pursed his lips. He lifted up his hand and flicked Jack's SGC patch on the left sleeve of his BDU shirt. "I think this might tell him. See you later, Jack, Joe, George." With that, the Tok'ra walked quickly out of the door and headed for the steps to the 'gate room.
George Hammond rose from his seat. "Very well, gentlemen. I think this update is concluded. Jack, I will need to see you again after your post mission physical. We may have some intel of our own by then which might help. Bring Teal'c. Dismissed."
For some reason, Jack felt the urge to salute and did so; snappy and serious, conscious he was breaching protocol.
Without missing a beat, Hammond returned the salute and nodded him out of the room. As Jack left, he got the feeling that Hammond had spared him from one more minute with Joe Faxon. 'I owe you another, George,' he thought as he made his way to face Janet Fraiser.
********
Sam jerked awake, lifting her head from the stone floor. The pain was worse, but it was the cold that was bothering her the most. There was a window set high in the wall of the cell; however there was no cover, and it was a cold night. Vaguely, she knew it was night, but time was becoming meaningless as the days blurred on. She peered at the scratch marks low down on one of walls where she had started to keep a record of the days, but that seemed pointless now.
A few days ago, she was trying to bind up her right ankle with strips of torn BDU pants when she felt the pains. She had known straightaway what was happening, and had no way of stopping it. Then the men came. Two of them. They forced her down, tried to pull off her clothes. She fought and screamed and kicked. They in turn had hit and hit and hit until darkness came a blessing. When she awoke, there was blood all over her thighs and her pants were down at her knees.
The pains were dull, but all pervading. Shifting her slashed back to find a warmer spot made the aches in her legs begin to throb again. Sam Carter was aware her confinement, and her rapidly deteriorating physical condition was weakening her to the brink of eternal relief.
Sam knew that she must not give up, but she was under no illusions that the SGC would have any idea as to her whereabouts. She was sure they would not stop looking for her, but she could not be confident of being alive if they found her.
********
Although Jacob Carter had been in contact every day for an update, it was another week before he returned to the SGC. Ambassador Faxon had been a permanent fixture in General Hammond's room for three days, but then had been called to Washington and had not returned. SG-1 and Hammond had poured over every scrap of intel on Ba'al and Mot that the SGC had managed to accumulate, but had come up empty handed. Jack had stamped around the SGC like a bear with a sore head, barely speaking to anyone except his team. Every time the klaxons blared to indicate an off-world activation of the Stargate, Jack was always the first one to reach the 'gate room, his face impassive, but his knuckles white. When General Carter marched purposefully down the 'gate ramp exactly one week to the day after his daughter had been abducted, Jack was waiting. As he followed Jacob up the steps to Hammond's office, he felt a foreboding sense of déjà vous.
Hammond's aide informed them that the general had been called away to deal with a serious issue of a fight between two marines on one of the upper floors, but had been informed of General Carter's arrival and would join them directly.
As soon as the aide left the room, Jacob Carter flopped into a chair and said sarcastically: "Nice to know my daughter takes a backseat to a bunch of jar-heads."
Jack was still standing. "Jacob, I assure you- "
"It's okay, Jack, I only have to look at you to see you look like hell." Jacob Carter dismissively waved his hand.
Jack chewed his tongue and fixed his gaze on Hammond's angle poise desk lamp. "How have you been, sir?"
"What happened to 'Dad'?" Jacob's features narrowed.
Jack's eyes widened in return; he wasn't expecting this. "It didn't seem appropriate, under the circumstances."
Jacob nodded and smoothed out a crease in left pant leg. "Oh, you mean with Sam being married to someone else an' all." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Tell me, Jack, why didn't you ever make a move on her?"
Jack definitely wasn't expecting this. He coughed. "Sir, she's *married*."
Jacob laughed bitterly. "That is the most naïve thing I've ever heard anyone say. I'm not talking about now, I mean *then*." He jerked his thumb backwards. "And don't bullshit me about frat. regs; I've seen it all."
Jack paused before answering. A thousand thoughts suddenly crowded into his mind, all of Sam Carter. Carter smiling, Carter's eyes, Carter going off on a tangent about some theory to save the world again. Carter expecting a baby. Carter possibly with the cruelest sonofabitch he had ever had the misfortune to come across. Carter thinking he was a shit, and him deserving it. Jack swallowed. "I respect her too much. I respect her intellect. I respect her bravery. I respect the sacrifices she has had to endure and the decisions she has made." He stopped, not trusting himself to continue.
It was Jacob's turn to swing in his seat and sit with his eyes wide. "Jack, I think that is the longest speech I've ever heard you make." There was another silence. Jacob spoke again. "Where's Joe?"
Jack opened his mouth to answer just as General Hammond entered the room, bristling with irritation. "Ambassador Faxon is in Washington, Jacob," the general answered for Jack.
Jacob's eyebrows rose. "Why isn't he here? Some terrible diplomatic crises keeping him away?" His sarcastic look fell somewhat when he regarded his fellow general's face. "George?"
Hammond stood behind his desk, his fingertips spread out on the smooth polished surface. "Jacob, he was practically camped out here for a while; it was a relief when he was called away. He has telephoned me every day for an update."
Jacob 'humphed' and crossed his arms over his Tok'ra garb. "It's just as well, he probably wouldn't be much use anyway."
Jack suddenly found his boots very interesting again; the way the laces crossed over near the top was fascinating.
General Hammond cleared his throat. "Jacob, I have no more news since 0800 hours when I last radioed you."
Jacob nodded. "No, but I have some for you. I think we've found her."
Jack's stomach flipped over and Hammond sat heavily on his chair. Jack shifted his feet.
"Talk to me, Jacob." Jack was impressed that George could keep his voice so steady.
"We have had an operative working behind enemy lines for some time now – you've met her; remember Sina?"
The two officers nodded. Jack recalled the noble Tok'ra; as snake-heads went, she was one of the better ones.
Jacob continued; "She's been undercover, assessing the connection Ba'al has to Anubis and some of the other system lords, specifically Mot. He and Ba'al have some sort of uneasy truce going on at the moment. Mot gets some of Ba'al's resources: ships, Jaffa and so on, and Mot puts in a few good words about Ba'al to the other system lords."
"A marriage made in heaven," said Jack, cynically. He swallowed as the other two men looked at him. He gestured for Jacob to go on, but added a comment himself. "Should we be worried about the connection to Anubis?" Thoughts of Daniel's recent fate ran through his mind.
Jacob shrugged, and then dipped his head. Selmak spoke. "We are still attempting to ascertain the true relationships between the system lords in that sector. There is much subterfuge between the rivals, so determining the true alliances is proving to be quite difficult."
"You don't say," muttered Jack, toeing a flaw in the carpet. In the periphery of his vision he saw George Hammond giving him a look, but there was no strength behind the silent admonishment.
Selmak smiled a little. "Fortunately, it appears Anubis is not involved in Samantha's abduction, but Mot most certainly is. She is being held on a planet controlled by Mot, although not a stronghold. It has a Stargate and is one of the planets that the Tok'ra warned the Tau'ri about in the last communiqué."
Jack's head snapped up so quickly he felt his neck crack. "Well, what the hell are we waiting for then?"
Selmak held a hand out in a placating gesture. "Colonel, please. I can assure you the priority here is to secure the rescue of Samantha Carter, but we must do so by a method that minimizes the loss of life to all concerned."
Jack had reached his limit. "Oh Jesus, I want to talk to Jacob...Jacob, pick up will ya?"
A nod of the head indicated that Jacob's consciousness had come to the fore. "Jack, the Tok'ra have a plan, we just need the help of SGC manpower to boost our numbers. Sam is important to us as well, you know." The general's voice was soft.
Jack nodded. "I'm listening."
********
Jacob outlined the rescue plan to Hammond, while Jack butted in to clarify points and make suggestions. Within half an hour, Lt.Col. Ferretti and Major Marx were back in the briefing room going over the details.
Sam was incarcerated in a small prison-like structure on Mot's home planet. Sina and another Tok'ra had infiltrated Mot's stronghold, as many were Tok'ra sympathizers and opposed to the system lords. When word of a blue- eyed blonde female came to the ears of Sina, she immediately recognized the description of Major Carter and had contacted the Tok'ra central alliance. The recovery plan involved two other Tok'ra and a civilian, which Jack was none too happy about, but it was a risk he was prepared to take.
Word had already gone around the SGC that Major Carter's whereabouts had been determined and there was a suspenseful hush when SG's 1, 3, and 6 were geared up and awaiting the go-ahead from General Carter.
Jacob strode into the 'gate room from the control mezzanine, his mouth a thin, tight line. He nodded a silent: 'Lets go' to Jack. The Colonel adjusted the glasses slung around his neck, wiping a lens absentmindedly with his finger. He addressed the assembled team of soldiers: "Okay, heads up on this one, you all know the score." He jerked his head to Ferretti to take point, as planned. Jack and Jacob stood side by side as they waited for the teams to be swallowed up by the wormhole. Teal'c, and a determined looking Daniel strode by, with Daniel shooting Jack a quick look. Jack half turned toward the normally vocal general. "Jacob, you okay?"
Jacob fixed his gaze on a point on the far side of the dingy concrete 'gate room wall. "What do you think, Jack?"
Jack nodded as the last of the SGC personnel disappeared through the 'gate.
"That's what I thought." He paused to click off the safety of his P-90. "You know, we're gonna get her, Jake."
Jacob did not reply, or even look at Jack as he brushed by him to follow in the wake of the other soldiers.
**********
Immediately upon exiting the wormhole, the SG teams were being hustled off to the right to take shelter in a nearby copse, although Jack was vaguely aware of the 'gate being guarded by two Tok'ra disguised as Jaffa. Bringing up the rear, he watched as a dark figure held up a hand for silence and pushed the cowl of her cloak back. Sina's aristocratic face acknowledged Jacob before firmly confirming that the necessary guards had been distracted or neutralized. There was to be only one hour to perform the extraction before nightfall. That was all.
It was a go.
Two members each of SG's 3 and 6 were to secure the retreat and so peeled off at intervals along the pre-planned circuitous route to Mot's prison in the fading light. Jack could feel his heart was thumping as he followed the Tok'ra through the woodland underbrush. This was reminding him of the other forest where he had left Carter some eight days previously. Eight days, three hours and twenty-seven minutes previously. The temperature was cooler than PX7-253 and Jack donned his fingerless gloves. It was raining softly as the gray stone walls surrounding the town loomed up in front of them. Jack mused the place was like a smaller version of Chulak, only a lot less friendly. Jacob was conversing quietly with Sina, who slunk away into the gloom only to return a few moments later with a wizened aging woman in tow.
Jack stared at the old lady, her face lined with creases and her slight frame bent over. "*This* is the 'operative'?" The question was directed at Sina, but he was looking at Jacob.
Jacob glared back. "Don't start, Colonel. She's the prison cook. She knows where the back door is, and she's gonna show us."
"She must be over 100, for crying out loud." Jack stole another glance at the woman, who turned to gabble with Sina.
Sina translated. "The matron says we must hurry. The guards are distracted, and the golden haired woman is very sick."
Jacob shouldered his pack. "Well, are you coming? I don't know about you, but I'm going to get my daughter."
As the rain began to fall harder, and the light faded, Jack heard himself say, "Right behind you, sir."
Major Marx, SG-3, and Daniel were left just outside the prison walls. Ducking guard patrols along the edge of the town, the old woman led Jack, Teal'c, Jacob, and Sina into the prison kitchen.
A human chain of rescue.
The kitchen was cool and dark with rough wooden benches backing onto three walls. The fourth was given over to a metal range, which was surrounded by a variety of pots and pans. The quaint domesticity of the kitchen was jarring with Jack's mood. They were just about to follow a dark passage into the bowels of the prison when he heard voices coming toward them. Ducking into a pantry set off to one side, he dragged Jacob with him. Sina and the old woman were standing their ground with Teal'c placed behind them, as the Jaffa came into view. They pulled up short at the sight of the gold tattoo on Teal'c's forehead. It was the mark of a First Prime.
"Jaffa, kree!" commanded Teal'c. At first the Jaffa were fooled, and started to pull themselves to attention, but the deception only lasted a moment. One of the Jaffa began pointing to Sina with a questioning look on his face. Suddenly, his decision was made; he called out, and then started to turn to make a quick exit. His scream was cut off by a two-inch bladed knife straight through the back of his neck, courtesy of Jack O'Neill. Teal'c slammed his staff weapon down on the other Jaffa's head, and the man slumped over the body of his dead comrade. As Jack stepped over the bodies, he hissed: "Knew that thing would come in handy."
"Indeed," came Teal'c's unruffled reply. The old woman was gabbling away in her own language.
Sina was nodding, her face impassive. Turning to Jacob, she said, "The matron says those Jaffa were the 'users' of Major Carter."
Jack stopped short and took in Jacob's blanched face. "Whaddya mean: 'users'?"
The desperate look from Jacob was all Jack needed to know. He pulled his zat gun and began shooting to dispose of them, assisted by Teal'c. The shots seemed to echo around the stone building and Jack looked about warily. "Lets pick this up," he said urgently and made off into the gloom.
The woman gestured down the corridor; "Down, down." Teal'c threw his staff blaster to Sina and closely followed Jack at a run, his zat up and charged, with Jacob Carter on his heels. Jack could hear the Jaffa's reassuring pounding feet behind him. He was so close to Carter, he could *feel* it.
As they searched the dark and stinking prison corridors they passed by some open barred cells. He shone his flashlight through the bars and was horrified to see a few inmates gazing balefully at the commotion with starving eyes. Many were lying on the dirty floor, obviously in too poor a condition to even move, awakening an unwelcome memory of an Iraqi prison. A red mist appeared on the edge of his vision and a sweat broke on his face. He clenched his fist around the barrel of the zat gun and set his jaw, pushing the dread down.
The corridor branched and Jacob took the right at a run, so Jack and Teal'c swung left. They reached an area of the prison where the cells were safeguarded by thick doors, so the soldiers began to use their zat's on a 'lock-picking' setting to disable the mechanisms and gain access. The thin blue arc was illuminating Teal'c's rock-solid face as he kicked open the doors 'Door Number Three' revealed Paine and Garcia of SG-7, thinner and dirty, but very much alive. Dimly, Jack could hear Teal'c radioing Jacob for assistance.
Two down, one to go.
Teal'c caught up easily and thumped on ahead, zatting open the cell doors on the right while Jack tackled the doors on the left. He slammed open one of the cell doors like any other. Seeing nothing, he began to back out to tackle the next door in line. Suddenly, a scrap of white caught his flashlight beam.
A symbol. A winged symbol. It was the SG-1 logo.
"Sam!" The word was out of his mouth as he crossed the threshold in a rush. Teal'c was edging back, covering the corridor in both directions with his zat.
Jack was suddenly struck by the stench: urine, excrement ...and something else. It assaulted his senses and he fought the urge to clamp his hand over his retching mouth. He leaned over the figure huddled on the floor, lying with its back to him.
"Sam?" he asked again and laid a tentative hand on the shoulder. Hoisting his flashlight up further and shining it down, he baulked at what he saw. Sam was lying curled in a ball. She was naked, apart from her jacket, which she had obviously draped over herself in a vain attempt to keep warm. She was filthy from head to foot. From what Jack could make out, bruises covered those parts of her body that he could see. Dark bloodied circles surrounded her wrists and looking closer he could see where the skin and been rubbed off; she had obviously been chained up at some point. He placed his fingers on her carotid artery and prayed for a pulse. He was rewarded with a faint beat beneath his fingers. She was alive. He risked a breath and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
His hands were shaking slightly as he checked her limbs for fractures. Her ankles felt wrong. A voice broke through his assessment. "O'Neill, we must execute our prompt escape from this place." Teal'c's steadying words served to snap him back to reality. If they were to make it out of here in a hurry, it would help to have Sam's co-operation.
"Carter!" Jack once again tried to rouse her. He moved the jacket to check for spinal injuries and again his breath stopped. Her back was covered in deep welts. Some were new, cut deep into her skin and oozing blood and pus. Some were older, badly healed into a darker red. They stretched right from her neck to the base of her spine, and lower, and there was something wrong with her feet. Carefully he moved her slightly to face him and gasped. There was dried blood and some other dried fluid covering the inside of her thighs. This had obviously been there for some time, and had come from her groin area.
Not Sam, no, no, no.
He must have said something aloud as he felt Teal'c's hand on his shoulder. He backed away.
"O'Neill, we must leave now."
Jack simply nodded for Teal'c to return to covering their position. He tied her jacket sleeves around her neck and swung his flashlight around, looking for something to dress her in. He spotted her combat pants lying in a heap in the corner of the cell. Lunging, he grabbed them and began to shake the clothing out to put them on. They were stiff. With blood. And something else.
He dropped them, rubbing his fingers on the pant leg of his own BDU's.
He took off his own jacket and laid his flashlight so that the beam illuminated the room. "Carter, c'mon. Wake up; we've gotta get you outta here". He picked up her filth-covered arm and began to rub gently. "C'mon, open your eyes." There was no response. Her skin was hot despite the damp chilliness of the air. 'Infection?' he thought. Jack was dimly aware of Teal'c radioing their situation to Jacob, and SG's 3 and 6.
"Major Carter!" he spoke louder, risking any pursuers making their position. "You open your eyes right *now*, that's a goddamn *order*!"
To his immense relief, Sam's eyes did indeed open, but what he saw there gripped his soul: fear, pain and despair stared back at him.
"Please, kill me." Her whispered words were said so softly he hardly heard them, but when his brain registered what she had said, his anger bubbled to the surface.
"Oh right," he said as he maneuvered her into a sitting position,"I risk my own ass to extract my second in command and she just lies there asking me to off her. Well, Carter, you'll find yourself in a disciplinary for that little slip. You're making this a habit." As he spoke, he wrapped his jacket gently around her waist, tying it off at the back using the sleeves as before. "Right, you can stand now." He took her arm and began to pull it around his shoulder to help her up.
He felt a pull of resistance. "I can't," Sam whispered.
"You can and you will!" Jack was becoming frustrated, but was also very afraid of what had happened to his second to reduce her to this.
"Broken ankles," Sam croaked back; it seemed as though that was all she could manage. Jack stopped trying to pull her up.
"Oh, okay, well-"
Teal'c's voice broke in "O'Neill, footsteps approach."
Without further ado, Jack hoisted up the Major in his arms and made for the door. She stifled a groan at her sudden shift in position and Jack realized that he must have been hurting her injured back. He was at once both proud of her resilience and horrified by her fragile physical state.
"Sorry about this, Carter, but you're going home, like it or not," he said in her ear as she rested her head against his chest. Teal'c nodded that their escape was still clear, so both men retraced their steps, O'Neill slower than the big warrior because of the extra weight he carried. Every jolt was making Carter flinch, but she kept her eyes closed and remained silent.
Upon entering the kitchen, Jacob Carter practically pounced on them, craning his neck to see his daughter. "Sam?" his voice cracked. He lifted a hesitant hand to brush away some hair from her forehead. "Sam, it's Dad. Speak to me, kiddo."
Jack tightened his grip; there wasn't time for this. "Later, sir, okay?"
Jacob's mouth turned down and his eyes began to glow. Selmak was plainly in charge, and she spoke in a voice deep and thick. "We must hurry."
Sina and the old woman were gone with Paine and Garcia. Dodging through the town was proving difficult with Jack carrying an injured Sam, but at last the men emerged from the town walls to sight SG-3 and an anxious looking Daniel. The marines moved to flank their SGC teammate, protecting their wounded colleague, making no remark about her state of undress. Daniel stepped nearer to the inert form being carried in Jack's arms. Her eyes were closed and through the filth, her face was deathly pale. Jack realized that Daniel thought that she must be dead, but he watched him let out a breath when Sam's eyelids flickered and she squinted against the light.
"SG-6 have secured a retreat, sir, all personnel accounted for," Major Marx was staring at the pathetic bundle, but then hardening her face, she nodded.
The Colonel affirmed in return. "Very good, Major - let's move out." As they made their halting way back to the Stargate undercover of the forest, it began to rain, and Jack felt Sam stir. He exchanged glances with Selmak; they needed to stop. He assessed their position, and shot Teal'c a look. In turn, he signaled with a closed fist to Major Marx, who then re- issued the silent 'Halt and crouch' order to her men.
"Two inflatable splints, a thermal blanket and a rain poncho, please," he stated. At once, the two marines that were carrying packs swiveled around to show their backs to their teammates. They hurriedly pulled out the requested items. Daniel passed Jack the blanket first, but Jack shook his head and indicated the poncho with a nod. "Lay it on the ground," he asked, calmly. "Now the blanket on top," he followed Daniel's movements.
Jack laid Sam carefully on the blanket and proceeded to wrap it around her battered body with Selmak's gentle assistance. Now they were out in the daylight, Sam's injuries were even more sickening, but Jack clenched his teeth to maintain his control. However, Daniel could not. He tried to help the Jack cover their friend and colleague, but his eyes began to well with tears as he saw the extensive bruising and the streaky mess between her legs, and he moved away. Jack set his face to stone as he finished wrapping Sam, and adjusting the ankle splints. He pulled back and realized that she was conscious and staring at him, although he could tell her eyes were not properly in focus.
"It's okay, Carter, we're going home," he repeated his earlier promise. He moved his gaze between Selmak and Teal'c, who had squatted next to him. Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but O'Neill shook his head to the unspoken question; there was no way he was letting go of her. Without a word, the Jaffa moved away so that Jack could lift Sam safely, and the silent group returned to the Stargate.
********
Daniel was first through the 'gate to see Janet and her medical teams ready and waiting to take the now unconscious Sam from Jack's arms, with Jacob following closely. There was a debriefing, during which Hammond was aware of the understandable inattentiveness of his teams, so he called it to a close early and ordered everyone to rest. Daniel was keeping a close eye on Jack, who delivered his report staccato. He heard General Hammond talking to him, something about being unable to contact the ambassador. The silent friends headed for the infirmary, their faces set like marble. Teal'c excused himself to perform Kel'no'reem, but asked to be disturbed if there was any news. This left Jack, Jonas and Daniel to take up vigil outside the infirmary. However, Janet wasn't letting anyone near Sam bar the team that was working on the Major. Daniel took this as a bad sign, but he said nothing. After three hours, Janet finally emerged.
Jack's head snapped up and he was on his feet before she had crossed the doorway. Daniel stood slowly, taking in Janet's pallor and the bubble of emotions that threatened to burst through her ever-professional demeanor.
"Well?" asked Jack, hoarsely.
Janet swallowed before answering. "Colonel, I'm sorry, professional protocols dictate I must only speak to the Major's next of kin regarding her condition until she regains consciousness."
Daniel raised his eyebrows "She's still unconscious?" he asked, stealing a look at O'Neill.
"In and out of, Daniel, and that's all I can say, except I'm certain that her physical injuries will heal in time." It seemed good news, but Janet's face told another story which the three men understood.
"She's lost it, hasn't she?" asked Jack, looking at the floor, his voice now quiet.
Janet's mask began to slip and she turned away, "I'm sorry, I can't say," was all she could manage. The answer to the Colonel's question was clear to all. Daniel suddenly had enough and stopped her by coming up behind the grieving doctor and enveloping her shoulders with his arms. "Well done, Janet, we know she is having the best of care." She turned and smiled at Daniel, taking one of his hands and giving it a thankful squeeze.
"Has anyone managed to get in touch with Joe yet?" Janet's question seemed to jerk Jack back from somewhere.
"Oh, Jesus, I was supposed to phone him; he's in Washington," he spat, and ran a hand through his hair.
Janet was horrified, "Colonel, he needs to be here *now*." Before Jack could say anything, Daniel looked directly into his eyes and said, "I'll do it."
Jack looked back at him with what Daniel could only describe as misery. "Thank you, Daniel, but this is something I need to do, should have done. Excuse me." With that, the Colonel hurriedly turned on his heel.
Daniel could almost feel Jack's reeling emotions, as well as his own.
********
As it was, despite Jack's best efforts and threats, he had to leave a message at the Pentagon. He slammed down the telephone receiver and glared at it. After all Joe's ranting about the lack of action from the SGC in finding his wife, Jack was surprised that he wasn't here, and puzzled that he couldn't be found at the Pentagon. He rested his elbows on his desk and pushed his thumbs onto his eyelids. Today's events kept replaying in his mind. He yanked open his desk drawer and fished around amongst the pens and paper clips for a packet of Advil that he knew was at the back. He popped a couple out, paused, and popped another. Scooping the caplets, he threw them into his mouth and swallowed the lot with a grimace.
His telephone rang.
Jack looked at the receiver and ground his teeth. Grabbing his jacket, he covered the distance to the door in three strides leaving the shrill tone in his wake.
Five minutes later, Jack was dallying back outside the infirmary. The earlier commotion had subsided somewhat. Daniel and Jonas were gone, presumably to get some rest. He was debating whether or not to go in when Janet swung out of her office, her heels clipping on the polished floor. She caught Jack's eye just as he was beginning to slink off.
"Colonel?" she asked questioningly, her expressive brown eyes assessing him.
"Um...how's Carter?" he managed.
"No change. Did you get in touch with Ambassador Faxon?"
"No, but I've left a message. I'm hoping because he isn't there, he's on his way *here*," Jack shrugged.
"Okay. Cell phone?" Janet's delicate dark eyebrows lifted.
"Off." Jack replied, his face grim.
The doctor nodded and fiddled with the stethoscope that was stuffed unceremoniously into her left coat pocket. "Would you like to come in? Jacob's been sitting with her, and he could use a break, if you're up for a challenge." The attempt at humour was flat.
"Er...I don't know, I don't want to upset her, I mean..." his voice tailed off.
"It's all right, Colonel, she's asleep." Janet tone was reassuring.
"Sure." He nodded and followed the petite doctor to a closed-curtained area at the end of the ward. Janet disappeared through a gap in the privacy screen and Jack could hear a muted exchange between her and Jacob Carter.
Janet's head poked out from the gap. "Come through, sir."
Jack took a deep breath and quietly stepped through. Jacob was sitting on the bedside closest to Jack and looked up to acknowledge his presence with a nod. He was still dressed in the BDU's issued to him before they left for the planet and was sitting with his back slumped forward, his hands gripping his knees.
Jack spoke first. "Jacob."
"Jack." Jacob's voice was soft, although he didn't look round
Jack looked slowly to the bed. Sam was lying on her left side facing them, her eyes closed. He could see a long, rolled up sheet on the other side wedged up against her, preventing her from rolling over. A frame had been inserted under the lower half of the sheet covering her body. Absurdly, Jack could recall seeing this in episodes of 'General Hospital' that he caught while on downtime, but never knew the reason why it was done. He studied her face. There was a large purple bruise under her right eye that spread across her cheekbone. Several other large and small yellow bruises were evident on her face and stick like arm, which poked out from the hospital sheet. Her wrists were heavily bandaged. IV's, tubes and cables snaked here and there, and the silence was punctuated by the steady sounds from the surrounding monitoring equipment.
Jacob reached out and swept back a stray lock of his daughter's blonde hair, carefully tucking it behind her ear. He rested his hand near hers for a moment, and he smiled distantly.
"She's so beautiful when she's asleep," Jacob stated.
Jack said nothing, but nodded faintly and moved to sit in the extra chair next to the General.
Jacob continued, never taking his eyes from Sam. "After her mom died, she used to have bad nightmares, but she was fine if Mark or I stayed in the room while she fell asleep. I used to stay and watch her for hours." Jacob bit back a sob. Jack slowly raised his right arm and tentatively rested his hand on the older man's back. He was surprised when Jacob didn't shrug him off.
Jacob continued. "She lost the baby, did Janet say? Her ankles are not too bad, but she's gonna need plastic surgery on her back and maybe on her left wrist and...they...well, Janet thinks they...." Jacob broke off the headlong rush of words and inhaled deeply.
Both men looked up at the sound of the curtain being pulled slightly to admit Doctor Fraiser. She unhooked the metal backed chart hung on the end of the bed. Jack slowly pulled his hand back from Jacob's back and watched in silence. Janet moved almost noiselessly around her patient, checking lines, making notes and adjusting the wad of sheets wedged against Sam's side. At one stage she lifted the sheet covering the frame. Before Jack looked away, he took in plaster wrapped ankles and a pillow separating her legs at the knees.
"I could have saved her all of this!" Jacob burst out. Janet turned to shush him by reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it away. Looking into Janet's eyes he said miserably, "You know I could have saved her all of this."
Janet worked her mouth and turned to fiddle with the EKG monitor. Jack had the distinct impression they knew something about Sam that he didn't. What was going on?
Jack cleared his throat. "What do you mean, Jacob? I'm kinda confused here." He turned to look at Janet, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding his gaze. "Jacob?" he asked again.
The hunched figure nodded. "It all came to a head when she was seventeen. She would come home from school and stay in her room for hours. I thought she was studying.. well, I guess she was, most of the time. Mark found her in the bathroom one night, out of her head. She'd taken pills and liquor and made some attempts to cut at herself. She kept saying everyone hated her. She had this big problem about being touched, kept kicking and screaming." Jacob's words came out in a rush, his eyes never leaving the sleeping figure.
Jack swallowed. Funny, he could always seem to see the darker side of people, maybe because he could see it himself. But this was new. He took in a discrete breath. "What did the doc say?"
He could see the father's shoulders stiffen. "After they gave her stuff to barf in the ER, I took away for a while, to the coast, to a retired CMO I knew who owed me for pulling his son out of a hellhole in 'Nam. Mark was pissed at that; he wanted her to be nearer and for her to get more help. It just compounded all our problems."
Jack was thunderstruck. He looked at Janet and then stared at the sleeping figure on the bed. Why hadn't this come out after Jolinar? His 2IC may have been hiding severe depression with suicidal tendencies and he didn't know?
~ Did you know about this? ~ he mouthed to Janet, who was chewing on her lip.
"Yes, I did," said Janet quietly.
Jack shook his head in disbelief.
Janet looked up from where she had been examining her hands and stared openly at Jack. "And no, it isn't in her medical file. Sam told me as a friend."
Jack shook his head again. This was too much. "She never told me." It sounded so lame. Had he ever asked her?
The sound of the privacy curtain being pulled aside made everyone look up. It was Lt. Rush.
"Ma'am," she addressed Janet Fraiser, "Mr. Faxon is here."
Jack quickly stood up, as Janet nodded. "Thank you, Rebecca, I'll be right there."
Janet was staring at the small gap in the curtain left by the nurse's departure. "Here goes," she said to herself as she straightened her skirt. As she reached up to pull the curtain open further, she turned to Jack and said a little louder: "Thank you, sir."
Jack nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'll go then...I'll come by later, if that's okay?"
Janet nodded again and quickly exited through the gap. Jack turned to Jacob who seemed lost in his own thoughts. He decided to leave the man in peace.
For once, you got nothing to say, Mr. Quip-of-the-day, he thought bitterly, as he followed Janet out of the cubicle, but immediately turned to go out the back door of the infirmary.
As he walked blindly down the corridor, he was reminded of something a certain young eager Captain-come-Doctor had said to him right before their first mission together.
//"You really will like me when you get to know me."//
As he thumped the elevator call button, he muttered under his breath: "Oh, Sam, you have no idea how much."
********
When Jack returned to the infirmary, it was late into the evening. He was alarmed to find the infirmary lights had been dimmed, the ward deserted with Sam's bed empty and stripped down. He could hear quiet talking coming from Janet's office, and so edged toward the open door with his heart in his mouth. Rebecca Rush saw him first, as Jonas had his back to him, and she was on her feet in an instant.
"Sir." She stood up straight, but the effect was ruined by the 'I *heart* Colorado' coffee mug that she was clutching. Jonas swiveled in his seat, his hand clutching an identical mug. His serious expression was replaced by a small grin at the sight of Jack.
Lt. Rush looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Sir, we were just talking; there are no patients; Paine and Garcia have been discharged."
Jack held his hand out. "No problem, Lieutenant. I just stopped by to get the latest on Major Carter. How is she?"
Rush shot a glance at Jonas before stammering: "Major Carter's not here, sir. She was transferred to the Academy Hospital at 1700 hours. I assumed you had been informed." She shrugged ineffectually.
Jonas cleared his throat. "Janet decided that Sam was well enough to be moved, and there's more surgery that needs to be done. General Carter and Mr. Faxon went with her. We just thought someone would have told you."
"Evidently not," said Jack with a mixture of annoyance and sarcasm. He nodded at Rush. "Thank you and goodnight." As he left the room, he hesitated in the doorway, wanting to check if Sam had regained consciousness before they transferred her. He decided against asking, and moved to continue his exit.
Then he heard Jonas' voice clearly: "Oh crap."
********
General Hammond pursed his lips and straightened his aching back. He had been sitting at his desk reading preliminary hard copy reports of Carter's, Paine's and Garcia's rescue five days previously. The General pushed his laptop further back on the desk. He noticed his screen saver had been activated and realized that he hadn't typed anything for at least ten minutes. He sighed and studied the swiveling phrase on the screen: 'Per Ardua ad Astra'. Those in the know had asked why he had the motto of the British Royal Air Force on his computer, but he had always smiled away the question. The motto had originally adorned a drinks coaster that had been given to him thirty years ago in an exchange of keepsakes following a UN evacuation of the island of Cyprus in 1971.
"Through adversity to the stars," he said aloud, musing on the translation.
He felt deeply for Sam Carter who had endured her fair share of adversities. However, he was under no illusions that his goddaughter had always understood that casualties of war were part of the job. Did that include the catalogue of injuries he had in front of him? He couldn't rationalize the situation. He was no fool, although many had made that mistake in the past to their disadvantage. He was also no stranger to delivering tough orders and expecting them to be obeyed; he had sent men to their certain deaths before.
The missions that the SGC demanded resulted in a high casualty rate. Okay, he wasn't stepping over bodies every day, but the names of each lost man and woman would stay with him until he died. Most of the SG teams had suffered some sort of loss through death or injury. Until recently, it seemed as though the flagship unit SG-1 was living a charmed life; getting out by the skin of their teeth, recovering lost situations and team members just in time. Charmed no longer. He pushed the reports further away and lifted his coffee mug to take a swallow. He grimaced as the cold liquid tasted foul on his tongue - time for a refill, his fourth of the morning. A knock at the door served as a welcome distraction.
"Come in,"he called, closing the covers of the classified documents. The door opened to reveal Jack O'Neill, looking tired, but smarter than usual. "Good mornin', Colonel. I was just thinking about getting another cup of coffee, would you care to join me?"
The Colonel's morose expression was the one he had been wearing since his 2IC had been moved to the AF Academy hospital. "No, thank you, sir, I'm good."
The General nodded. "Then what can I do for you, son?" He watched as Jack said nothing, but began to fiddle with the brass angle poise lamp on the left hand corner of his desk.
"Don't break that, Jack, it's still USAF property." He watched as Jack looked up in surprise and returned the General's soft attempt at humor with an awkward smile.
"Sit down, Colonel, you're makin' my office look untidy." George indicated a chair. Jack made a move to the proffered chair, then appeared to change his mind and stepped back, then stepped forward again. The effect was perversely comical. George sighed. "Jack, for pete's sake, will you *please* sit down." He pressed a button on a discrete desk intercom. "Andrew, would you be so good as to bring in two cups of coffee when you are getting some for yourself, thank you." He released the intercom and studied the man now sitting in front of him. Jack O'Neill was staring at the confidential files looking drained.
George indicated them. "You know, Jack, you'll have to read them eventually."
O'Neill's reply was flat: "Yes, sir."
"Have you even re-read your own report?" George Hammond knew he had the most piercing blue eyes and was attempting to use them to their best advantage.
Jack O'Neill was unfortunately impervious. "No, sir."
"Have you been to visit her, Jack?" George was not a man to give up easily.
Jack's mouth twitched. "No, sir, I thought it best that she be with her family."
The General drummed his fingers lightly on his desk. "I spoke to Janet Fraiser this morning. It seems that Sam is doing a bit better physically, but Joe is having a hard time dealing with it. He can't cope with the fact that she chose to go off-world when she knew that she was pregnant. He's accusing her of putting her career before their life together. He hasn't visited her for two days; Janet thinks it's serious." He stopped in response to Jack's upraised hand.
"Sir, should you be telling me this? I mean, patient confidentiality and all." O'Neill was shifting in his seat.
George waved him off. "Probably not, but Janet is concerned about Sam's mental state. The Tok'ra are asking for Jacob and Selmak to return to Nemtesh; the skirmishes between the system lords are escalating and they really need him back. If that happens, Sam will be on her own, as she has requested that her brother is not informed about all of this," he tapped the files. "Sam will be off the mission list for at least eight weeks. Until then, the SG-1 team members will be allocated leave and then temporarily reassigned until decisions can be made."
Jack's quickly looked up. "Decisions?"
Hammond nodded. "Yes, Jack, decisions. You've been running with a five- member team for a while. The rebel Jaffa are demanding - hell *need* - more of Teal'c's time, Daniel appears to be fine, Jonas – I need to talk to that boy-"
Jack broke in, "Sir, you haven't spoken to me about this."
"Jack, I'm speaking to you now." Hammond paused. "And then there's Sam Carter. Both of us have been dragging our heels over her progression. Just as I think she's more than ready for command, she'll think and respond like a scientist, not as an operator. Now that she's married, her priorities may be changing." The General held up his hand again to silence Jack as the man opened his mouth to protest. "Don't accuse me of misogyny – Sam and Joseph were obviously trying for a baby. When this is behind them, they may want to try again. Possibly, Sam will request an Earth–bound assignment."
Jack studied his hands.
The General continued. "And then there's you, Colonel J.J. O'Neill. What are we going to do with you?"
Jack looked up, "Sir?"
"Your future, Jack? Your next appraisal is due."
Jack mumbled under his breath, "I hate those damn things."
George let out a snort. "I know that. But they can be useful when it comes to investing in our fighting force."
The response was silence.
George cleared his throat. "Have a think about it, please, and talk to your team. They may be more help than you think."
Jack stood up to go.
"Jack, I need a favor from you. Could you go over to the hospital and see Sam for me? I really need to finish this – tell her I'll come by tomorrow, that's a promise. Thank you." He pulled his laptop toward him and started to type. He steadfastly ignored Jack O'Neill, who was making fish impersonations by the door. A loud knock broke the impasse. Jack had his hand on the doorknob, so pulled the door sharply inwards. The General had to bite back a grin when he saw his aide's surprised expression. The young airman tentatively crossed the threshold, squeezed past Colonel O'Neill and deposited two steaming mugs of coffee on the General's desk.
"Will there be anything else, sir?" he politely asked.
"No, thank you, Andrew, that's all." George didn't look up from his keyboard.
"Sir." The airman gave a respectful nod and sidled past the loitering Colonel.
"Was there something else, Jack?" Hammond finally looked up straight into Jack O'Neill's guarded eyes.
"No, sir." He was definitely dawdling. "I'll go then."
"Yes, Colonel, dismissed." The complex man backed out of the door and closed it quietly behind him. When was that man ever going to wake up and smell the coffee? George smiled as he gazed at the mugs on his desk.
His expression then dropped as he sighed heavily and pulled the files towards him once more. He re-opened the folder marked 'Carter, Maj. S.M.' and pulled out the forensic photographs taken after Sam's rescue.
Samantha Carter was going to need all the help she could get.
********
Sam was toying half-heartedly with her fork. She nudged her potato further back on her plate and poked at the chicken. Sighing, she placed the fork on the plate and pushed the hospital table away. Gingerly shifting her position on the hard bed, she could see more of the view from the window. It was raining; a cold, unforgiving February. The bare tree branches swung gently in the wind. She watched them for a while, letting thoughts and emotions run through her mind.
The sound of the door opening off to her left drew her attention back to the room. She smiled at Janet Fraiser, but then followed her gaze to the uneaten lunch and grinned ruefully. "I'll finish eating it if the kitchen finishes cooking it."
Janet pursed her lips and peered at the plate. "I didn't think it was possible for them to ruin chicken, but they've surpassed themselves. I'll round up some jell-o for you."
Sam rested her back carefully on the pillows. "Thank *you*."
She watched as Janet pulled off the chart hanging from the end of the bed. Janet flicked through a few pages.
Finally, the doctor spoke, "Dr. Warner says you had another restless night last night. How are you feeling now?" Janet raised her head to assess the patient's response.
"Okay." Sam picked at the threads of the bandage secured around her left wrist.
"Did you have a nap this morning?" Janet wasn't giving up.
"No." Fine, Sam would make her work.
"Joe hasn't called." Doctor-get-to-the-point-Fraiser.
"I didn't ask if he had." Sam didn't want to hear his name so early in the day.
Janet remained looking at her friend. "Anytime you want to talk-"
"What is there to talk about?" Sam cut her off. "You were here. He storms in, calls me a selfish bitch, says I deserved to miscarry *his* baby, and then storms out again. Bye Joe." Sam lifted her arm to wave off her husband, reliving the exchange. She stared at the fading bruises on her limb and slowly lowered it. Closing her eyes, she exhaled slowly. It was difficult to think. She felt Janet's cool fingers on her right wrist and peered through her lashes. Janet was counting the second hand around on her watch, taking her pulse. The doctor smiled kindly and released her grip, but held onto her hand.
"Your wrists are healing well. I think that you won't need grafts on them at all. Is the pseudoskin still itching?" She motioned for Sam to lean forward in order to check her back. Sam slowly did as she was bid, as the gel-filled patches were tight and pulled if she moved quickly. She could feel Janet prodding and smoothing and was grateful for the doctor's arm to lean against. Gently, Janet laid her back and looked directly at her patient. "Sam, I need to check your perineal repair."
Sam closed her eyes again. "Janet, can we do that later? I'm really tired." She opened her eyes slowly, her gaze averted.
"You refused to let Dr. Warner check this morning. Are you refusing me?" Janet didn't sound annoyed, but Sam guessed that she might be.
"No, but...later, I promise?" Sam was aware that she was pleading.
"Sam, I really-"
A knock on the door stopped Janet abruptly. The two women looked at each other.
"Come in!" Janet called, their stares drawn back to the door.
It opened to reveal Jack O'Neill dressed in an overcoat, shirt and tie, and carrying a large bunch of flowers.
There was a stunned silence before Sam and Janet exclaimed together: "Sir!" "Colonel."
Jack O'Neill looked himself up and down and grinned. "Yup, it's me."
Janet Fraiser was beaming. "Colonel O'Neill, I wasn't aware that you were visiting today. What lovely flowers!"
Sam was staring at her friend. What had gotten into her? She watched as Jack handed her the bunch.
"I thought you would like them." The Colonel winked at Sam. Janet began to giggle. Sam groaned inwardly; Janet Fraiser was now giggling.
Janet swung round and waved the bouquet at Sam, "I'll find a vase for you." With that, she was out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Jack O'Neill stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled self-consciously. He edged closer to the bed.
"So, Carter, how are you?" He began to fiddle with some loose change in his coat pocket.
Sam hated when men did that. "Marvelous."
"Oh." The Colonel's stock answer. He began to eye the room. "You've got your own room, that's nice."
"Yeah, Janet was worried that I would go wacko and kick the crap out of the walls with my casts." Sam was beginning to enjoy this. "Either that or I would describe my D&C and perineal stitches in too great a detail for the average patient."
The Colonel was now eyeing the door hopefully in the silence that followed. "Where's Jacob?"
"He's gone back to his motel to freshen up." Sam paused. She could feel her left leg trembling under the blanket. "For God's sake, just go, will you? I know you hate hospitals and that you haven't got a clue what to say." She turned her head to look out of the window again. The silence continued as the daylight began to dim.
The Colonel spoke again. "I know that you must be upset, and in pain, and everything."
Sam was too tired for this. "That's right." She snapped her eyes shut, hoping he would take the hint.
She could hear Colonel O'Neill swallowing. "Carter, this isn't you."
Sam's eyes shot open, "Yeah, well, I'm tired of being fucking Pollyanna!"
Jack paused and seemed to be musing over the absurdity of the statement. He started to smirk. Sam peeked up at Jack, a hot flush warming on her neck. A small laugh escaped her lips.
He pulled at the bed sheet. "Actually, I saw you as more of an 'Anne of Green Gables' girl; you know the smart one always getting into scrapes?"
Sam shook her head and shifted her back, which was smarting a little. "Okay, sir, you can't tell me you ever read those books."
Jack smiled again and nodded as he fiddled with his coat buckle. "Nah, caught it on 'Hallmark'."
Sam leaned back carefully. "Mmm, I thought so." She watched as the Colonel peered at her dinner plate.
"Is that food?" he queried.
Sam pulled her mouth down and pushed the table further away. "So they would have us believe. Janet's promised me Jell-o." Sam half turned to reposition the pillow only to find a pair of arms reaching to do it for her.
As she settled back, he spoke again. "Next time I come, I'll bring contraband." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Chocolate?" Sam's mood was beginning to lighten.
"Absolutely!" Jack's grin didn't seem forced this time.
She couldn't help it; a yawn escaped her. "Thanks."
She was aware that the Colonel was watching her carefully. "I'd better go, you need some rest. I'll come by again, bring the rest of the three stooges if you like?"
Sam nodded. She really was beginning to feel weary.
The Colonel seemed to be inwardly debating something. He kept opening his mouth to speak, and then closing it again, fiddling with the bedsheet. After a few minutes of this, he spoke, quiet and serious, with a tone she rarely heard. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry. I... " his voice tailed off and the busy hand stilled.
"Forgive me."
Sam turned her head to give him her full attention for the first time since he had entered the room.
"No, I won't forgive you." She could see him wince. "Because there's nothing to forgive. You had every right to put me on report for tardiness, and as for leaving me on the planet...I asked you to leave; you had no choice. The Jaffa would have killed you and the girl. As it is, we all survived. Well, except the baby. Perhaps that wasn't meant to be." Sam shifted her head back to watch the rain trace haphazard patterns on the windowpane. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jack O'Neill giving her the full force of *his* stare.
Suddenly, she felt a warm hand gently secure around her left. She closed her eyes as she felt her tears welling and fading.
She heard herself whisper. "I can't cry, yet."
Jack's voice was equally as low. "It'll come, Sam. Don't force it."
Sam nodded and looked down at their clasped hands. "I'm so tired."
Jack snagged a chair with his leg and sat perched on the end, not letting go of her hand. "Close your eyes. I'll wait with you." His voice was soothing, mixed with the gentle pattering from outside.
Sam could feel the pull of blissful sleep. "Thanks for the flowers," she managed to say.
Just before she gave into the pull, she heard him reply, "Yasureyabetcha."
********
End of Part Two
****** WINTER
******
Jack stamped down the control room stairs to the 'gate room with Lt. Cl. Ferretti of SG-3 and Major Marx of SG-6 following in his wake.
They were finally going back. After an interminable Search & Rescue briefing and delays over what the off-world MALP could detect, they were finally going back. The area surrounding the DHD on PX7-253 was eerily quiet. There were no sign of ground forces, or of any aerial reconnaissance. But there was no SG-7 or Major Carter. They had delayed, and delayed too damn long in Jack's opinion.
As he rounded the corner from the stairs, he was faced with four, very determined looking people. Teal'c stood off to one side at the ready, clenching his staff weapon. His wounds were not serious and he was to be second through the 'gate. Daniel was fiddling with his glasses and Jonas was practically standing at attention. Pale-faced, Janet clutched an emergency medical pack to her chest so tightly that her knuckles whitened.
Jack began quietly, addressing the three friends who were not on this mission list. "Guys, I know you want to do this, but you know I can't let you." He silenced the outburst of protests with an upraised hand. "This is a potentially life threatening S&R mission, the SG units in there," he indicated the 'gate room, "...know their jobs. Janet, there are two very experienced field medics on SG-6; I know they're good, because you trained them. There are people needing your help *here*. I promise as soon as I know anything, you will." Looking her over, he noted she looked like hell and realized he probably did as well.
"Daniel, I need you to go contact Nemtesh and see if the Tok'ra there can get hold of Jacob, ASAP." Daniel began to protest, but Jack cut him off with a brusque hand slice. "No, Daniel, not this time." Jack found himself reasoning in a gentle voice, surprised he could do so with his stomach tying itself in knots. He couldn't completely rely on Daniel's reactions since his descension, and Janet Fraiser could use her friend's support.
He swallowed and made a conscious effort to steady his voice. "Jonas, go see Hammond and check if he needs a hand getting hold of Joe Faxon, please." Jonas nodded, muttered a quiet: "Yes sir," and turned to leave. Jack raised his arm and held Jonas' shoulder briefly; he was suddenly proud of the way the young man was trying to control his emotional nature. Jack looked levelly at Teal'c. "Lets go." He jerked his head to the now open 'gate that was swallowing up a FRED laden with supplies.
Jack marched up the ramp. Even though he was not part of either of the deployed units, he was the senior officer and the person who knew Carter's last known position. As such, it was he who would command the mission to locate and extract SG-7 and Major Carter. SG-1's Major Carter. HIS Major Carter. He stepped into the swirling void and felt the cold pull of the distorting eddies on his body. His molecules came apart with a familiar sensation, streaming along the artificial singularity and coalescing on the other side. He stepped through, his P-90 raised. The immediate impression was that the area was deserted. The other unit soldiers emerged from the 'gate and raced to take up their assigned places. A column of black smoke was coming from the village. From his cover behind the DHD, Jack ground his teeth; something or some *one* was being burned.
Shit.
Ferretti headed off to scout the village with SG-3 in a tight formation. SG-6 was accompanying Colonel O'Neill to locate Major Carter, and a decision regarding SG-7 would be made once the area had been secured. He steadied his grip on his weapon and pulled off his sunglasses. It was so quiet. Nothing could be heard. Nothing except crystal twists of birdsong that seemed completely at odds with the pall of death smoke off to his left.
Major Marx appeared beside him. "This way, sir?" She indicated the line of the forest. The forest where he had left his second in command less than three hours ago. Jack snapped his sunglasses back on and pointed with his P-90, "Yes, this way, Major, bring up the rear." He strode out, conscious of the scrambles of the other team hastily shouldering supplies behind him.
When they reached the last known position of Major Carter, of course, she wasn't there. He knew that she wouldn't be, but he had hoped the Jaffa would not concern themselves with a badly injured female. The tree debris that had previously prevented him from freeing his second was now piled to one side. Someone had organized this. Jaffa organized into tree moving duty by...Ba'al? Jack strictly forbade any memories from his incarceration by Ba'al to enter his mind, but they came anyway.
Ba'al had Carter.
Fuck.
********
Teal'c attempted to track the enemy Jaffa movements, and this led them to the village. The smoke was beginning to dissipate as SG-6 approached, Jack taking point, and Teal'c covering their sixes. Ferretti met them at the village entrance in response to Marx's radioed notification – the same entrance where Jack, Daniel and Sam had been standing that very morning. His face said it all. Normally, Louis Ferretti wore an expression of boyish impishness. He was a popular, experienced commander; leading by example, always ready to diffuse a bad situation with humour. Now his slim face was drawn, and his mouth was a thin, tight line as he faced Colonel O'Neill.
"It's bad, sir. Looks like the bastards blasted some of the folks that were left and then herded the rest into that hut..." he pointed, "...and set fire to it. It seems like they were alive when...." his voice tailed off and he shrugged.
Jack cleared his throat. The smell of smoke...and something else...was strong. "Any sign of Major Carter?"
The two soldiers stared at one another.
"Not that we can tell, sir, but there are signs that a small ring transporter was used on the east side, so possibly a Teltac?" Ferretti pointed again. He faced Jack's gaze squarely.
Jack nodded. "And no SG-7?" he asked, sharply indicating his head to the charnel house ahead of them.
"No, sir." Ferretti seemed relieved.
Jack became aware that he had several officers standing around with nothing to do, except observe the consequences of a military 'some you win, some you lose' scenario.
"Marx!" he barked. Julia Marx practically jumped to his side at attention. Jack recalled it was her first command as she and Ferretti stood before him, eager for direction. They had more pressing matters than some unfortunate civilians who were beyond their help - he had to think clinically or risk betraying his emotions to the junior officers. He was good at this; practiced. They had to locate SG-7, if they were still alive and on this planet. Sam Carter had been taken to god-only-knows-where, so was also beyond their help at this time. The responsibility of command was weighing heavily on Jack's shoulders. He was their leader. He was supposed to issue a few orders, wind them up, let them go and everyone would get home without a scratch. But not this time.
********
Three hours later, Jack, Teal'c and SG-3 and SG-6 were traipsing back through the 'gate with two full body bags in tow. Captain Lynch and Sgt. Roy were located; their lifeless, staff blasted bodies concealed in some undergrowth near the base camp.
Jack was the last to emerge from the wormhole and the first thing he noted was Jacob Carter and Joe Faxon staring down at him from the briefing room window. Her father and her husband.
Piss.
General Hammond waited at the base of the ramp, his expression firm, and his arms held stiffly by his side. Jack knew the General had been apprised of the situation, because he had ordered Ferretti to radio ahead - there would be no surprises this time.
Hammond's voice was sympathetic. "Jack, Jacob and Ambassador Faxon are here. Could you spare them a few minutes before your post mission physical?" Although it was phrased as a question, Jack knew it was a demand and he nodded a curt assent. He followed his CO out of the 'gate room and up the stairs to the briefing room, his heart sinking with every step. He had faced really crappy situations before, but he had a notion that nothing could be as bad as facing the father and the husband of someone... someone he cared for. More than he was supposed to.
Joe Faxon was staring at him as he topped the stairs and Jack was grateful for General Hammond's diversionary: "Shall we go into my office?"
Jacob's mouth was tight and his brow furrowed as he passed Jack, a myriad of unspoken questions in his shrewd eyes; the older general was firmly in emotional-lockdown mode.
As Jack stood to attention in front of his CO's desk, he could feel Faxon's gaze boring into him. He looked up to finally meet his gaze, only to find the younger man snapping his head away as he sat next to Jacob.
General Hammond cleared his throat. "Colonel O'Neill, while you were gone, we were fortunate to contact both General Carter and Ambassador Faxon. They have been informed of the situation...and Major Carter's 'condition'...and would be grateful for any additional information that you may have at this time." He nodded at Jack, and then sat down heavily behind his desk.
Jack nodded back stiffly. "Yes, sir." He turned towards Jacob. "I am sorry to say, there is no other information that I can provide at this time as to the location and the status of your daughter, sir." He paused. "And your wife, Ambassador. However, I can assure you I will do my utmost to secure her safe recovery."
"Oh, really? Was it *safe* to let my wife, my *pregnant* wife, enter a dangerous situation like this?" Joe Faxon's voice was sarcastic and demanding.
Jack was expecting this and stole a glance at his CO. Hammond's stony look told him that this conversation had already taken place with George getting the full brunt of the ambassador's thinly disguised fury. He was not a man to absolve responsibility by passing the blame onto Janet, so he held his tongue.
"Not got an answer Mr.' Quip-of-the-day'?'' Joe continued. "Or are you happy she's gone?"
Jack braced himself. "Don't be-"he caught himself. Swallowing, he recited diplomacy 101. "It appears a mistake was made. Of course I'm not 'happy'."
Faxon frowned. "Oh, really? Could I have that in writing?"
"Ambassador-"General Hammond tried to cut in, but Faxon was having none of it.
"I've noticed Sam has been coming home quiet and upset lately...have anything to do with that, *Colonel*?" The emphasis on Jack's rank was stinging. "Oh, she won't talk, security aside. She won't hear a bad word against her *adored* commanding officer, Jumping Jack Flash here-"
"Joe, that's enough." Jacob Carter's moderate voice cut through and this time the younger man acquiesced. Jack stared at the floor, absorbing everything.
"I apologize." Joe Faxon swallowed nervously and ran a hand through his dark wavy hair. "I...it's just so difficult. I went to work this morning...a regular day. Now I'm told my wife is expecting our first child, but I can't speak to her because she's lost, and may be dead by now."
"Son, we understand." Hammond's Texan drawl was calming. "All of us here have lost someone they loved very much. But in all likelihood, Sam is not dead. If this Goa'uld, Ba'al, wanted her dead, he would have killed her on the planet. She has been taken somewhere; we just have to find her. Selmak, I believe you may have more information?" He gave the Tok'ra an encouraging nod.
Jacob Carter dipped his head a fraction and when he raised it again, the whites of his eyes were just dulling from the tell-tale glow that indicated the Tok'ra symbiote had taken control of the host's body. Jack swallowed. Despite the fact he trusted Jacob Carter, and had risked his life to save the acerbic general, he could not get used to the fact that he was a snake- head.
When Jacob opened his mouth, it was Selmak who spoke.
"The Tok'ra have been attempting to monitor Ba'al's movements for some time. The destruction of his stronghold by the rival system lords, orchestrated by the SGC, ensured his rapid flight to a distant sector. However, his destruction was not as encompassing as we had hoped. He has recruited some followers and is attempting to form an alliance against some of the system lords who attacked him. The Tok'ra intelligence believe that revenge is not the only motive, and that he wishes to secure more power and resources for himself."
Hammond nodded: "Was that why Ba'al's forces were scouting PX7-253, because of the Naquadah?" he asked.
Selmak shrugged in return. "We can only speculate on their motives for being there at this point, but we believe it was *not* Ba'al who captured Samantha. We are supposing it was an ally of his, named Mot."
Jack jerked his head up from where he had been examining his boots. "Whoa! Whaddya mean you can't speculate on their motives for being on '253? And didn't we get rid of Mot on PX-whatever? Where Jonas had those visions?"
Selmak responded. "To answer your second question, apparently not."
Jack blew out a breath. "Let me take a wild guess - a sarc.?"
Selmak nodded in response and continued. "Furthermore, we were not aware that any other mineral surveys had been performed on the planet you have designated as PX7-253. There has been no other alien presence in this area other than yourselves. How would they know about the rich mineral resources?"
Jack stared at Jacob Carter's face. "Then *why* were they there?"
Jacob closed his eyes. A flicker passed across the eyelids and when he opened them again, Jack knew he was talking to Jacob again. "Before I left Nemtesh, after getting this 'news', I made some quick enquiries." He nodded toward George Hammond who was still sitting stony faced behind his desk. "It seems as though Ba'al is pissed at you, Jack."
Jack chewed his lip. "Oh, yeah, I wonder why that might be." His head jerked again. "Oh, *please* don't tell me that bastard was looking for *me*! How would he know where to look?"
Jacob tilted his head to one side and looked pointedly at Jack.
Jack swallowed. "Hold on, here. You, well, Selmak – whatever – said that it wasn't Ba'al who's got Sa...Major Carter; it was Mot." Jack quickly corrected himself, acutely aware of Faxon's steady stare.
Jacob nodded. "They are allies, Jack. Well, kinda. I think Mot is pissed at you as well. You seem to make a habit of this."
There was silence for a moment. Jack fiddled with the corner of his BDU shirt. He could see Joe Faxon's right index finger tapping against the arm of his chair, rapid but erratic.
"Jacob, what intel have you got on Mot?" Jack finally asked.
"Not much that I know of, but I'm going straight back to Nemtesh to find out what I can." Jacob's answer was resigned as he got up from his seat.
Jack bit his lip again. "You know, Jacob, Mot never got a look at Sam; she was here when he locked us up. He won't know who he has." Jack wanted to say something more to the worried father, but found his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Jacob's nod was shallow and he pursed his lips. He lifted up his hand and flicked Jack's SGC patch on the left sleeve of his BDU shirt. "I think this might tell him. See you later, Jack, Joe, George." With that, the Tok'ra walked quickly out of the door and headed for the steps to the 'gate room.
George Hammond rose from his seat. "Very well, gentlemen. I think this update is concluded. Jack, I will need to see you again after your post mission physical. We may have some intel of our own by then which might help. Bring Teal'c. Dismissed."
For some reason, Jack felt the urge to salute and did so; snappy and serious, conscious he was breaching protocol.
Without missing a beat, Hammond returned the salute and nodded him out of the room. As Jack left, he got the feeling that Hammond had spared him from one more minute with Joe Faxon. 'I owe you another, George,' he thought as he made his way to face Janet Fraiser.
********
Sam jerked awake, lifting her head from the stone floor. The pain was worse, but it was the cold that was bothering her the most. There was a window set high in the wall of the cell; however there was no cover, and it was a cold night. Vaguely, she knew it was night, but time was becoming meaningless as the days blurred on. She peered at the scratch marks low down on one of walls where she had started to keep a record of the days, but that seemed pointless now.
A few days ago, she was trying to bind up her right ankle with strips of torn BDU pants when she felt the pains. She had known straightaway what was happening, and had no way of stopping it. Then the men came. Two of them. They forced her down, tried to pull off her clothes. She fought and screamed and kicked. They in turn had hit and hit and hit until darkness came a blessing. When she awoke, there was blood all over her thighs and her pants were down at her knees.
The pains were dull, but all pervading. Shifting her slashed back to find a warmer spot made the aches in her legs begin to throb again. Sam Carter was aware her confinement, and her rapidly deteriorating physical condition was weakening her to the brink of eternal relief.
Sam knew that she must not give up, but she was under no illusions that the SGC would have any idea as to her whereabouts. She was sure they would not stop looking for her, but she could not be confident of being alive if they found her.
********
Although Jacob Carter had been in contact every day for an update, it was another week before he returned to the SGC. Ambassador Faxon had been a permanent fixture in General Hammond's room for three days, but then had been called to Washington and had not returned. SG-1 and Hammond had poured over every scrap of intel on Ba'al and Mot that the SGC had managed to accumulate, but had come up empty handed. Jack had stamped around the SGC like a bear with a sore head, barely speaking to anyone except his team. Every time the klaxons blared to indicate an off-world activation of the Stargate, Jack was always the first one to reach the 'gate room, his face impassive, but his knuckles white. When General Carter marched purposefully down the 'gate ramp exactly one week to the day after his daughter had been abducted, Jack was waiting. As he followed Jacob up the steps to Hammond's office, he felt a foreboding sense of déjà vous.
Hammond's aide informed them that the general had been called away to deal with a serious issue of a fight between two marines on one of the upper floors, but had been informed of General Carter's arrival and would join them directly.
As soon as the aide left the room, Jacob Carter flopped into a chair and said sarcastically: "Nice to know my daughter takes a backseat to a bunch of jar-heads."
Jack was still standing. "Jacob, I assure you- "
"It's okay, Jack, I only have to look at you to see you look like hell." Jacob Carter dismissively waved his hand.
Jack chewed his tongue and fixed his gaze on Hammond's angle poise desk lamp. "How have you been, sir?"
"What happened to 'Dad'?" Jacob's features narrowed.
Jack's eyes widened in return; he wasn't expecting this. "It didn't seem appropriate, under the circumstances."
Jacob nodded and smoothed out a crease in left pant leg. "Oh, you mean with Sam being married to someone else an' all." There was an uncomfortable silence. "Tell me, Jack, why didn't you ever make a move on her?"
Jack definitely wasn't expecting this. He coughed. "Sir, she's *married*."
Jacob laughed bitterly. "That is the most naïve thing I've ever heard anyone say. I'm not talking about now, I mean *then*." He jerked his thumb backwards. "And don't bullshit me about frat. regs; I've seen it all."
Jack paused before answering. A thousand thoughts suddenly crowded into his mind, all of Sam Carter. Carter smiling, Carter's eyes, Carter going off on a tangent about some theory to save the world again. Carter expecting a baby. Carter possibly with the cruelest sonofabitch he had ever had the misfortune to come across. Carter thinking he was a shit, and him deserving it. Jack swallowed. "I respect her too much. I respect her intellect. I respect her bravery. I respect the sacrifices she has had to endure and the decisions she has made." He stopped, not trusting himself to continue.
It was Jacob's turn to swing in his seat and sit with his eyes wide. "Jack, I think that is the longest speech I've ever heard you make." There was another silence. Jacob spoke again. "Where's Joe?"
Jack opened his mouth to answer just as General Hammond entered the room, bristling with irritation. "Ambassador Faxon is in Washington, Jacob," the general answered for Jack.
Jacob's eyebrows rose. "Why isn't he here? Some terrible diplomatic crises keeping him away?" His sarcastic look fell somewhat when he regarded his fellow general's face. "George?"
Hammond stood behind his desk, his fingertips spread out on the smooth polished surface. "Jacob, he was practically camped out here for a while; it was a relief when he was called away. He has telephoned me every day for an update."
Jacob 'humphed' and crossed his arms over his Tok'ra garb. "It's just as well, he probably wouldn't be much use anyway."
Jack suddenly found his boots very interesting again; the way the laces crossed over near the top was fascinating.
General Hammond cleared his throat. "Jacob, I have no more news since 0800 hours when I last radioed you."
Jacob nodded. "No, but I have some for you. I think we've found her."
Jack's stomach flipped over and Hammond sat heavily on his chair. Jack shifted his feet.
"Talk to me, Jacob." Jack was impressed that George could keep his voice so steady.
"We have had an operative working behind enemy lines for some time now – you've met her; remember Sina?"
The two officers nodded. Jack recalled the noble Tok'ra; as snake-heads went, she was one of the better ones.
Jacob continued; "She's been undercover, assessing the connection Ba'al has to Anubis and some of the other system lords, specifically Mot. He and Ba'al have some sort of uneasy truce going on at the moment. Mot gets some of Ba'al's resources: ships, Jaffa and so on, and Mot puts in a few good words about Ba'al to the other system lords."
"A marriage made in heaven," said Jack, cynically. He swallowed as the other two men looked at him. He gestured for Jacob to go on, but added a comment himself. "Should we be worried about the connection to Anubis?" Thoughts of Daniel's recent fate ran through his mind.
Jacob shrugged, and then dipped his head. Selmak spoke. "We are still attempting to ascertain the true relationships between the system lords in that sector. There is much subterfuge between the rivals, so determining the true alliances is proving to be quite difficult."
"You don't say," muttered Jack, toeing a flaw in the carpet. In the periphery of his vision he saw George Hammond giving him a look, but there was no strength behind the silent admonishment.
Selmak smiled a little. "Fortunately, it appears Anubis is not involved in Samantha's abduction, but Mot most certainly is. She is being held on a planet controlled by Mot, although not a stronghold. It has a Stargate and is one of the planets that the Tok'ra warned the Tau'ri about in the last communiqué."
Jack's head snapped up so quickly he felt his neck crack. "Well, what the hell are we waiting for then?"
Selmak held a hand out in a placating gesture. "Colonel, please. I can assure you the priority here is to secure the rescue of Samantha Carter, but we must do so by a method that minimizes the loss of life to all concerned."
Jack had reached his limit. "Oh Jesus, I want to talk to Jacob...Jacob, pick up will ya?"
A nod of the head indicated that Jacob's consciousness had come to the fore. "Jack, the Tok'ra have a plan, we just need the help of SGC manpower to boost our numbers. Sam is important to us as well, you know." The general's voice was soft.
Jack nodded. "I'm listening."
********
Jacob outlined the rescue plan to Hammond, while Jack butted in to clarify points and make suggestions. Within half an hour, Lt.Col. Ferretti and Major Marx were back in the briefing room going over the details.
Sam was incarcerated in a small prison-like structure on Mot's home planet. Sina and another Tok'ra had infiltrated Mot's stronghold, as many were Tok'ra sympathizers and opposed to the system lords. When word of a blue- eyed blonde female came to the ears of Sina, she immediately recognized the description of Major Carter and had contacted the Tok'ra central alliance. The recovery plan involved two other Tok'ra and a civilian, which Jack was none too happy about, but it was a risk he was prepared to take.
Word had already gone around the SGC that Major Carter's whereabouts had been determined and there was a suspenseful hush when SG's 1, 3, and 6 were geared up and awaiting the go-ahead from General Carter.
Jacob strode into the 'gate room from the control mezzanine, his mouth a thin, tight line. He nodded a silent: 'Lets go' to Jack. The Colonel adjusted the glasses slung around his neck, wiping a lens absentmindedly with his finger. He addressed the assembled team of soldiers: "Okay, heads up on this one, you all know the score." He jerked his head to Ferretti to take point, as planned. Jack and Jacob stood side by side as they waited for the teams to be swallowed up by the wormhole. Teal'c, and a determined looking Daniel strode by, with Daniel shooting Jack a quick look. Jack half turned toward the normally vocal general. "Jacob, you okay?"
Jacob fixed his gaze on a point on the far side of the dingy concrete 'gate room wall. "What do you think, Jack?"
Jack nodded as the last of the SGC personnel disappeared through the 'gate.
"That's what I thought." He paused to click off the safety of his P-90. "You know, we're gonna get her, Jake."
Jacob did not reply, or even look at Jack as he brushed by him to follow in the wake of the other soldiers.
**********
Immediately upon exiting the wormhole, the SG teams were being hustled off to the right to take shelter in a nearby copse, although Jack was vaguely aware of the 'gate being guarded by two Tok'ra disguised as Jaffa. Bringing up the rear, he watched as a dark figure held up a hand for silence and pushed the cowl of her cloak back. Sina's aristocratic face acknowledged Jacob before firmly confirming that the necessary guards had been distracted or neutralized. There was to be only one hour to perform the extraction before nightfall. That was all.
It was a go.
Two members each of SG's 3 and 6 were to secure the retreat and so peeled off at intervals along the pre-planned circuitous route to Mot's prison in the fading light. Jack could feel his heart was thumping as he followed the Tok'ra through the woodland underbrush. This was reminding him of the other forest where he had left Carter some eight days previously. Eight days, three hours and twenty-seven minutes previously. The temperature was cooler than PX7-253 and Jack donned his fingerless gloves. It was raining softly as the gray stone walls surrounding the town loomed up in front of them. Jack mused the place was like a smaller version of Chulak, only a lot less friendly. Jacob was conversing quietly with Sina, who slunk away into the gloom only to return a few moments later with a wizened aging woman in tow.
Jack stared at the old lady, her face lined with creases and her slight frame bent over. "*This* is the 'operative'?" The question was directed at Sina, but he was looking at Jacob.
Jacob glared back. "Don't start, Colonel. She's the prison cook. She knows where the back door is, and she's gonna show us."
"She must be over 100, for crying out loud." Jack stole another glance at the woman, who turned to gabble with Sina.
Sina translated. "The matron says we must hurry. The guards are distracted, and the golden haired woman is very sick."
Jacob shouldered his pack. "Well, are you coming? I don't know about you, but I'm going to get my daughter."
As the rain began to fall harder, and the light faded, Jack heard himself say, "Right behind you, sir."
Major Marx, SG-3, and Daniel were left just outside the prison walls. Ducking guard patrols along the edge of the town, the old woman led Jack, Teal'c, Jacob, and Sina into the prison kitchen.
A human chain of rescue.
The kitchen was cool and dark with rough wooden benches backing onto three walls. The fourth was given over to a metal range, which was surrounded by a variety of pots and pans. The quaint domesticity of the kitchen was jarring with Jack's mood. They were just about to follow a dark passage into the bowels of the prison when he heard voices coming toward them. Ducking into a pantry set off to one side, he dragged Jacob with him. Sina and the old woman were standing their ground with Teal'c placed behind them, as the Jaffa came into view. They pulled up short at the sight of the gold tattoo on Teal'c's forehead. It was the mark of a First Prime.
"Jaffa, kree!" commanded Teal'c. At first the Jaffa were fooled, and started to pull themselves to attention, but the deception only lasted a moment. One of the Jaffa began pointing to Sina with a questioning look on his face. Suddenly, his decision was made; he called out, and then started to turn to make a quick exit. His scream was cut off by a two-inch bladed knife straight through the back of his neck, courtesy of Jack O'Neill. Teal'c slammed his staff weapon down on the other Jaffa's head, and the man slumped over the body of his dead comrade. As Jack stepped over the bodies, he hissed: "Knew that thing would come in handy."
"Indeed," came Teal'c's unruffled reply. The old woman was gabbling away in her own language.
Sina was nodding, her face impassive. Turning to Jacob, she said, "The matron says those Jaffa were the 'users' of Major Carter."
Jack stopped short and took in Jacob's blanched face. "Whaddya mean: 'users'?"
The desperate look from Jacob was all Jack needed to know. He pulled his zat gun and began shooting to dispose of them, assisted by Teal'c. The shots seemed to echo around the stone building and Jack looked about warily. "Lets pick this up," he said urgently and made off into the gloom.
The woman gestured down the corridor; "Down, down." Teal'c threw his staff blaster to Sina and closely followed Jack at a run, his zat up and charged, with Jacob Carter on his heels. Jack could hear the Jaffa's reassuring pounding feet behind him. He was so close to Carter, he could *feel* it.
As they searched the dark and stinking prison corridors they passed by some open barred cells. He shone his flashlight through the bars and was horrified to see a few inmates gazing balefully at the commotion with starving eyes. Many were lying on the dirty floor, obviously in too poor a condition to even move, awakening an unwelcome memory of an Iraqi prison. A red mist appeared on the edge of his vision and a sweat broke on his face. He clenched his fist around the barrel of the zat gun and set his jaw, pushing the dread down.
The corridor branched and Jacob took the right at a run, so Jack and Teal'c swung left. They reached an area of the prison where the cells were safeguarded by thick doors, so the soldiers began to use their zat's on a 'lock-picking' setting to disable the mechanisms and gain access. The thin blue arc was illuminating Teal'c's rock-solid face as he kicked open the doors 'Door Number Three' revealed Paine and Garcia of SG-7, thinner and dirty, but very much alive. Dimly, Jack could hear Teal'c radioing Jacob for assistance.
Two down, one to go.
Teal'c caught up easily and thumped on ahead, zatting open the cell doors on the right while Jack tackled the doors on the left. He slammed open one of the cell doors like any other. Seeing nothing, he began to back out to tackle the next door in line. Suddenly, a scrap of white caught his flashlight beam.
A symbol. A winged symbol. It was the SG-1 logo.
"Sam!" The word was out of his mouth as he crossed the threshold in a rush. Teal'c was edging back, covering the corridor in both directions with his zat.
Jack was suddenly struck by the stench: urine, excrement ...and something else. It assaulted his senses and he fought the urge to clamp his hand over his retching mouth. He leaned over the figure huddled on the floor, lying with its back to him.
"Sam?" he asked again and laid a tentative hand on the shoulder. Hoisting his flashlight up further and shining it down, he baulked at what he saw. Sam was lying curled in a ball. She was naked, apart from her jacket, which she had obviously draped over herself in a vain attempt to keep warm. She was filthy from head to foot. From what Jack could make out, bruises covered those parts of her body that he could see. Dark bloodied circles surrounded her wrists and looking closer he could see where the skin and been rubbed off; she had obviously been chained up at some point. He placed his fingers on her carotid artery and prayed for a pulse. He was rewarded with a faint beat beneath his fingers. She was alive. He risked a breath and sent up a silent prayer of thanks.
His hands were shaking slightly as he checked her limbs for fractures. Her ankles felt wrong. A voice broke through his assessment. "O'Neill, we must execute our prompt escape from this place." Teal'c's steadying words served to snap him back to reality. If they were to make it out of here in a hurry, it would help to have Sam's co-operation.
"Carter!" Jack once again tried to rouse her. He moved the jacket to check for spinal injuries and again his breath stopped. Her back was covered in deep welts. Some were new, cut deep into her skin and oozing blood and pus. Some were older, badly healed into a darker red. They stretched right from her neck to the base of her spine, and lower, and there was something wrong with her feet. Carefully he moved her slightly to face him and gasped. There was dried blood and some other dried fluid covering the inside of her thighs. This had obviously been there for some time, and had come from her groin area.
Not Sam, no, no, no.
He must have said something aloud as he felt Teal'c's hand on his shoulder. He backed away.
"O'Neill, we must leave now."
Jack simply nodded for Teal'c to return to covering their position. He tied her jacket sleeves around her neck and swung his flashlight around, looking for something to dress her in. He spotted her combat pants lying in a heap in the corner of the cell. Lunging, he grabbed them and began to shake the clothing out to put them on. They were stiff. With blood. And something else.
He dropped them, rubbing his fingers on the pant leg of his own BDU's.
He took off his own jacket and laid his flashlight so that the beam illuminated the room. "Carter, c'mon. Wake up; we've gotta get you outta here". He picked up her filth-covered arm and began to rub gently. "C'mon, open your eyes." There was no response. Her skin was hot despite the damp chilliness of the air. 'Infection?' he thought. Jack was dimly aware of Teal'c radioing their situation to Jacob, and SG's 3 and 6.
"Major Carter!" he spoke louder, risking any pursuers making their position. "You open your eyes right *now*, that's a goddamn *order*!"
To his immense relief, Sam's eyes did indeed open, but what he saw there gripped his soul: fear, pain and despair stared back at him.
"Please, kill me." Her whispered words were said so softly he hardly heard them, but when his brain registered what she had said, his anger bubbled to the surface.
"Oh right," he said as he maneuvered her into a sitting position,"I risk my own ass to extract my second in command and she just lies there asking me to off her. Well, Carter, you'll find yourself in a disciplinary for that little slip. You're making this a habit." As he spoke, he wrapped his jacket gently around her waist, tying it off at the back using the sleeves as before. "Right, you can stand now." He took her arm and began to pull it around his shoulder to help her up.
He felt a pull of resistance. "I can't," Sam whispered.
"You can and you will!" Jack was becoming frustrated, but was also very afraid of what had happened to his second to reduce her to this.
"Broken ankles," Sam croaked back; it seemed as though that was all she could manage. Jack stopped trying to pull her up.
"Oh, okay, well-"
Teal'c's voice broke in "O'Neill, footsteps approach."
Without further ado, Jack hoisted up the Major in his arms and made for the door. She stifled a groan at her sudden shift in position and Jack realized that he must have been hurting her injured back. He was at once both proud of her resilience and horrified by her fragile physical state.
"Sorry about this, Carter, but you're going home, like it or not," he said in her ear as she rested her head against his chest. Teal'c nodded that their escape was still clear, so both men retraced their steps, O'Neill slower than the big warrior because of the extra weight he carried. Every jolt was making Carter flinch, but she kept her eyes closed and remained silent.
Upon entering the kitchen, Jacob Carter practically pounced on them, craning his neck to see his daughter. "Sam?" his voice cracked. He lifted a hesitant hand to brush away some hair from her forehead. "Sam, it's Dad. Speak to me, kiddo."
Jack tightened his grip; there wasn't time for this. "Later, sir, okay?"
Jacob's mouth turned down and his eyes began to glow. Selmak was plainly in charge, and she spoke in a voice deep and thick. "We must hurry."
Sina and the old woman were gone with Paine and Garcia. Dodging through the town was proving difficult with Jack carrying an injured Sam, but at last the men emerged from the town walls to sight SG-3 and an anxious looking Daniel. The marines moved to flank their SGC teammate, protecting their wounded colleague, making no remark about her state of undress. Daniel stepped nearer to the inert form being carried in Jack's arms. Her eyes were closed and through the filth, her face was deathly pale. Jack realized that Daniel thought that she must be dead, but he watched him let out a breath when Sam's eyelids flickered and she squinted against the light.
"SG-6 have secured a retreat, sir, all personnel accounted for," Major Marx was staring at the pathetic bundle, but then hardening her face, she nodded.
The Colonel affirmed in return. "Very good, Major - let's move out." As they made their halting way back to the Stargate undercover of the forest, it began to rain, and Jack felt Sam stir. He exchanged glances with Selmak; they needed to stop. He assessed their position, and shot Teal'c a look. In turn, he signaled with a closed fist to Major Marx, who then re- issued the silent 'Halt and crouch' order to her men.
"Two inflatable splints, a thermal blanket and a rain poncho, please," he stated. At once, the two marines that were carrying packs swiveled around to show their backs to their teammates. They hurriedly pulled out the requested items. Daniel passed Jack the blanket first, but Jack shook his head and indicated the poncho with a nod. "Lay it on the ground," he asked, calmly. "Now the blanket on top," he followed Daniel's movements.
Jack laid Sam carefully on the blanket and proceeded to wrap it around her battered body with Selmak's gentle assistance. Now they were out in the daylight, Sam's injuries were even more sickening, but Jack clenched his teeth to maintain his control. However, Daniel could not. He tried to help the Jack cover their friend and colleague, but his eyes began to well with tears as he saw the extensive bruising and the streaky mess between her legs, and he moved away. Jack set his face to stone as he finished wrapping Sam, and adjusting the ankle splints. He pulled back and realized that she was conscious and staring at him, although he could tell her eyes were not properly in focus.
"It's okay, Carter, we're going home," he repeated his earlier promise. He moved his gaze between Selmak and Teal'c, who had squatted next to him. Teal'c raised an eyebrow, but O'Neill shook his head to the unspoken question; there was no way he was letting go of her. Without a word, the Jaffa moved away so that Jack could lift Sam safely, and the silent group returned to the Stargate.
********
Daniel was first through the 'gate to see Janet and her medical teams ready and waiting to take the now unconscious Sam from Jack's arms, with Jacob following closely. There was a debriefing, during which Hammond was aware of the understandable inattentiveness of his teams, so he called it to a close early and ordered everyone to rest. Daniel was keeping a close eye on Jack, who delivered his report staccato. He heard General Hammond talking to him, something about being unable to contact the ambassador. The silent friends headed for the infirmary, their faces set like marble. Teal'c excused himself to perform Kel'no'reem, but asked to be disturbed if there was any news. This left Jack, Jonas and Daniel to take up vigil outside the infirmary. However, Janet wasn't letting anyone near Sam bar the team that was working on the Major. Daniel took this as a bad sign, but he said nothing. After three hours, Janet finally emerged.
Jack's head snapped up and he was on his feet before she had crossed the doorway. Daniel stood slowly, taking in Janet's pallor and the bubble of emotions that threatened to burst through her ever-professional demeanor.
"Well?" asked Jack, hoarsely.
Janet swallowed before answering. "Colonel, I'm sorry, professional protocols dictate I must only speak to the Major's next of kin regarding her condition until she regains consciousness."
Daniel raised his eyebrows "She's still unconscious?" he asked, stealing a look at O'Neill.
"In and out of, Daniel, and that's all I can say, except I'm certain that her physical injuries will heal in time." It seemed good news, but Janet's face told another story which the three men understood.
"She's lost it, hasn't she?" asked Jack, looking at the floor, his voice now quiet.
Janet's mask began to slip and she turned away, "I'm sorry, I can't say," was all she could manage. The answer to the Colonel's question was clear to all. Daniel suddenly had enough and stopped her by coming up behind the grieving doctor and enveloping her shoulders with his arms. "Well done, Janet, we know she is having the best of care." She turned and smiled at Daniel, taking one of his hands and giving it a thankful squeeze.
"Has anyone managed to get in touch with Joe yet?" Janet's question seemed to jerk Jack back from somewhere.
"Oh, Jesus, I was supposed to phone him; he's in Washington," he spat, and ran a hand through his hair.
Janet was horrified, "Colonel, he needs to be here *now*." Before Jack could say anything, Daniel looked directly into his eyes and said, "I'll do it."
Jack looked back at him with what Daniel could only describe as misery. "Thank you, Daniel, but this is something I need to do, should have done. Excuse me." With that, the Colonel hurriedly turned on his heel.
Daniel could almost feel Jack's reeling emotions, as well as his own.
********
As it was, despite Jack's best efforts and threats, he had to leave a message at the Pentagon. He slammed down the telephone receiver and glared at it. After all Joe's ranting about the lack of action from the SGC in finding his wife, Jack was surprised that he wasn't here, and puzzled that he couldn't be found at the Pentagon. He rested his elbows on his desk and pushed his thumbs onto his eyelids. Today's events kept replaying in his mind. He yanked open his desk drawer and fished around amongst the pens and paper clips for a packet of Advil that he knew was at the back. He popped a couple out, paused, and popped another. Scooping the caplets, he threw them into his mouth and swallowed the lot with a grimace.
His telephone rang.
Jack looked at the receiver and ground his teeth. Grabbing his jacket, he covered the distance to the door in three strides leaving the shrill tone in his wake.
Five minutes later, Jack was dallying back outside the infirmary. The earlier commotion had subsided somewhat. Daniel and Jonas were gone, presumably to get some rest. He was debating whether or not to go in when Janet swung out of her office, her heels clipping on the polished floor. She caught Jack's eye just as he was beginning to slink off.
"Colonel?" she asked questioningly, her expressive brown eyes assessing him.
"Um...how's Carter?" he managed.
"No change. Did you get in touch with Ambassador Faxon?"
"No, but I've left a message. I'm hoping because he isn't there, he's on his way *here*," Jack shrugged.
"Okay. Cell phone?" Janet's delicate dark eyebrows lifted.
"Off." Jack replied, his face grim.
The doctor nodded and fiddled with the stethoscope that was stuffed unceremoniously into her left coat pocket. "Would you like to come in? Jacob's been sitting with her, and he could use a break, if you're up for a challenge." The attempt at humour was flat.
"Er...I don't know, I don't want to upset her, I mean..." his voice tailed off.
"It's all right, Colonel, she's asleep." Janet tone was reassuring.
"Sure." He nodded and followed the petite doctor to a closed-curtained area at the end of the ward. Janet disappeared through a gap in the privacy screen and Jack could hear a muted exchange between her and Jacob Carter.
Janet's head poked out from the gap. "Come through, sir."
Jack took a deep breath and quietly stepped through. Jacob was sitting on the bedside closest to Jack and looked up to acknowledge his presence with a nod. He was still dressed in the BDU's issued to him before they left for the planet and was sitting with his back slumped forward, his hands gripping his knees.
Jack spoke first. "Jacob."
"Jack." Jacob's voice was soft, although he didn't look round
Jack looked slowly to the bed. Sam was lying on her left side facing them, her eyes closed. He could see a long, rolled up sheet on the other side wedged up against her, preventing her from rolling over. A frame had been inserted under the lower half of the sheet covering her body. Absurdly, Jack could recall seeing this in episodes of 'General Hospital' that he caught while on downtime, but never knew the reason why it was done. He studied her face. There was a large purple bruise under her right eye that spread across her cheekbone. Several other large and small yellow bruises were evident on her face and stick like arm, which poked out from the hospital sheet. Her wrists were heavily bandaged. IV's, tubes and cables snaked here and there, and the silence was punctuated by the steady sounds from the surrounding monitoring equipment.
Jacob reached out and swept back a stray lock of his daughter's blonde hair, carefully tucking it behind her ear. He rested his hand near hers for a moment, and he smiled distantly.
"She's so beautiful when she's asleep," Jacob stated.
Jack said nothing, but nodded faintly and moved to sit in the extra chair next to the General.
Jacob continued, never taking his eyes from Sam. "After her mom died, she used to have bad nightmares, but she was fine if Mark or I stayed in the room while she fell asleep. I used to stay and watch her for hours." Jacob bit back a sob. Jack slowly raised his right arm and tentatively rested his hand on the older man's back. He was surprised when Jacob didn't shrug him off.
Jacob continued. "She lost the baby, did Janet say? Her ankles are not too bad, but she's gonna need plastic surgery on her back and maybe on her left wrist and...they...well, Janet thinks they...." Jacob broke off the headlong rush of words and inhaled deeply.
Both men looked up at the sound of the curtain being pulled slightly to admit Doctor Fraiser. She unhooked the metal backed chart hung on the end of the bed. Jack slowly pulled his hand back from Jacob's back and watched in silence. Janet moved almost noiselessly around her patient, checking lines, making notes and adjusting the wad of sheets wedged against Sam's side. At one stage she lifted the sheet covering the frame. Before Jack looked away, he took in plaster wrapped ankles and a pillow separating her legs at the knees.
"I could have saved her all of this!" Jacob burst out. Janet turned to shush him by reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, but he pushed it away. Looking into Janet's eyes he said miserably, "You know I could have saved her all of this."
Janet worked her mouth and turned to fiddle with the EKG monitor. Jack had the distinct impression they knew something about Sam that he didn't. What was going on?
Jack cleared his throat. "What do you mean, Jacob? I'm kinda confused here." He turned to look at Janet, who seemed to be deliberately avoiding his gaze. "Jacob?" he asked again.
The hunched figure nodded. "It all came to a head when she was seventeen. She would come home from school and stay in her room for hours. I thought she was studying.. well, I guess she was, most of the time. Mark found her in the bathroom one night, out of her head. She'd taken pills and liquor and made some attempts to cut at herself. She kept saying everyone hated her. She had this big problem about being touched, kept kicking and screaming." Jacob's words came out in a rush, his eyes never leaving the sleeping figure.
Jack swallowed. Funny, he could always seem to see the darker side of people, maybe because he could see it himself. But this was new. He took in a discrete breath. "What did the doc say?"
He could see the father's shoulders stiffen. "After they gave her stuff to barf in the ER, I took away for a while, to the coast, to a retired CMO I knew who owed me for pulling his son out of a hellhole in 'Nam. Mark was pissed at that; he wanted her to be nearer and for her to get more help. It just compounded all our problems."
Jack was thunderstruck. He looked at Janet and then stared at the sleeping figure on the bed. Why hadn't this come out after Jolinar? His 2IC may have been hiding severe depression with suicidal tendencies and he didn't know?
~ Did you know about this? ~ he mouthed to Janet, who was chewing on her lip.
"Yes, I did," said Janet quietly.
Jack shook his head in disbelief.
Janet looked up from where she had been examining her hands and stared openly at Jack. "And no, it isn't in her medical file. Sam told me as a friend."
Jack shook his head again. This was too much. "She never told me." It sounded so lame. Had he ever asked her?
The sound of the privacy curtain being pulled aside made everyone look up. It was Lt. Rush.
"Ma'am," she addressed Janet Fraiser, "Mr. Faxon is here."
Jack quickly stood up, as Janet nodded. "Thank you, Rebecca, I'll be right there."
Janet was staring at the small gap in the curtain left by the nurse's departure. "Here goes," she said to herself as she straightened her skirt. As she reached up to pull the curtain open further, she turned to Jack and said a little louder: "Thank you, sir."
Jack nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'll go then...I'll come by later, if that's okay?"
Janet nodded again and quickly exited through the gap. Jack turned to Jacob who seemed lost in his own thoughts. He decided to leave the man in peace.
For once, you got nothing to say, Mr. Quip-of-the-day, he thought bitterly, as he followed Janet out of the cubicle, but immediately turned to go out the back door of the infirmary.
As he walked blindly down the corridor, he was reminded of something a certain young eager Captain-come-Doctor had said to him right before their first mission together.
//"You really will like me when you get to know me."//
As he thumped the elevator call button, he muttered under his breath: "Oh, Sam, you have no idea how much."
********
When Jack returned to the infirmary, it was late into the evening. He was alarmed to find the infirmary lights had been dimmed, the ward deserted with Sam's bed empty and stripped down. He could hear quiet talking coming from Janet's office, and so edged toward the open door with his heart in his mouth. Rebecca Rush saw him first, as Jonas had his back to him, and she was on her feet in an instant.
"Sir." She stood up straight, but the effect was ruined by the 'I *heart* Colorado' coffee mug that she was clutching. Jonas swiveled in his seat, his hand clutching an identical mug. His serious expression was replaced by a small grin at the sight of Jack.
Lt. Rush looked like she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Sir, we were just talking; there are no patients; Paine and Garcia have been discharged."
Jack held his hand out. "No problem, Lieutenant. I just stopped by to get the latest on Major Carter. How is she?"
Rush shot a glance at Jonas before stammering: "Major Carter's not here, sir. She was transferred to the Academy Hospital at 1700 hours. I assumed you had been informed." She shrugged ineffectually.
Jonas cleared his throat. "Janet decided that Sam was well enough to be moved, and there's more surgery that needs to be done. General Carter and Mr. Faxon went with her. We just thought someone would have told you."
"Evidently not," said Jack with a mixture of annoyance and sarcasm. He nodded at Rush. "Thank you and goodnight." As he left the room, he hesitated in the doorway, wanting to check if Sam had regained consciousness before they transferred her. He decided against asking, and moved to continue his exit.
Then he heard Jonas' voice clearly: "Oh crap."
********
General Hammond pursed his lips and straightened his aching back. He had been sitting at his desk reading preliminary hard copy reports of Carter's, Paine's and Garcia's rescue five days previously. The General pushed his laptop further back on the desk. He noticed his screen saver had been activated and realized that he hadn't typed anything for at least ten minutes. He sighed and studied the swiveling phrase on the screen: 'Per Ardua ad Astra'. Those in the know had asked why he had the motto of the British Royal Air Force on his computer, but he had always smiled away the question. The motto had originally adorned a drinks coaster that had been given to him thirty years ago in an exchange of keepsakes following a UN evacuation of the island of Cyprus in 1971.
"Through adversity to the stars," he said aloud, musing on the translation.
He felt deeply for Sam Carter who had endured her fair share of adversities. However, he was under no illusions that his goddaughter had always understood that casualties of war were part of the job. Did that include the catalogue of injuries he had in front of him? He couldn't rationalize the situation. He was no fool, although many had made that mistake in the past to their disadvantage. He was also no stranger to delivering tough orders and expecting them to be obeyed; he had sent men to their certain deaths before.
The missions that the SGC demanded resulted in a high casualty rate. Okay, he wasn't stepping over bodies every day, but the names of each lost man and woman would stay with him until he died. Most of the SG teams had suffered some sort of loss through death or injury. Until recently, it seemed as though the flagship unit SG-1 was living a charmed life; getting out by the skin of their teeth, recovering lost situations and team members just in time. Charmed no longer. He pushed the reports further away and lifted his coffee mug to take a swallow. He grimaced as the cold liquid tasted foul on his tongue - time for a refill, his fourth of the morning. A knock at the door served as a welcome distraction.
"Come in,"he called, closing the covers of the classified documents. The door opened to reveal Jack O'Neill, looking tired, but smarter than usual. "Good mornin', Colonel. I was just thinking about getting another cup of coffee, would you care to join me?"
The Colonel's morose expression was the one he had been wearing since his 2IC had been moved to the AF Academy hospital. "No, thank you, sir, I'm good."
The General nodded. "Then what can I do for you, son?" He watched as Jack said nothing, but began to fiddle with the brass angle poise lamp on the left hand corner of his desk.
"Don't break that, Jack, it's still USAF property." He watched as Jack looked up in surprise and returned the General's soft attempt at humor with an awkward smile.
"Sit down, Colonel, you're makin' my office look untidy." George indicated a chair. Jack made a move to the proffered chair, then appeared to change his mind and stepped back, then stepped forward again. The effect was perversely comical. George sighed. "Jack, for pete's sake, will you *please* sit down." He pressed a button on a discrete desk intercom. "Andrew, would you be so good as to bring in two cups of coffee when you are getting some for yourself, thank you." He released the intercom and studied the man now sitting in front of him. Jack O'Neill was staring at the confidential files looking drained.
George indicated them. "You know, Jack, you'll have to read them eventually."
O'Neill's reply was flat: "Yes, sir."
"Have you even re-read your own report?" George Hammond knew he had the most piercing blue eyes and was attempting to use them to their best advantage.
Jack O'Neill was unfortunately impervious. "No, sir."
"Have you been to visit her, Jack?" George was not a man to give up easily.
Jack's mouth twitched. "No, sir, I thought it best that she be with her family."
The General drummed his fingers lightly on his desk. "I spoke to Janet Fraiser this morning. It seems that Sam is doing a bit better physically, but Joe is having a hard time dealing with it. He can't cope with the fact that she chose to go off-world when she knew that she was pregnant. He's accusing her of putting her career before their life together. He hasn't visited her for two days; Janet thinks it's serious." He stopped in response to Jack's upraised hand.
"Sir, should you be telling me this? I mean, patient confidentiality and all." O'Neill was shifting in his seat.
George waved him off. "Probably not, but Janet is concerned about Sam's mental state. The Tok'ra are asking for Jacob and Selmak to return to Nemtesh; the skirmishes between the system lords are escalating and they really need him back. If that happens, Sam will be on her own, as she has requested that her brother is not informed about all of this," he tapped the files. "Sam will be off the mission list for at least eight weeks. Until then, the SG-1 team members will be allocated leave and then temporarily reassigned until decisions can be made."
Jack's quickly looked up. "Decisions?"
Hammond nodded. "Yes, Jack, decisions. You've been running with a five- member team for a while. The rebel Jaffa are demanding - hell *need* - more of Teal'c's time, Daniel appears to be fine, Jonas – I need to talk to that boy-"
Jack broke in, "Sir, you haven't spoken to me about this."
"Jack, I'm speaking to you now." Hammond paused. "And then there's Sam Carter. Both of us have been dragging our heels over her progression. Just as I think she's more than ready for command, she'll think and respond like a scientist, not as an operator. Now that she's married, her priorities may be changing." The General held up his hand again to silence Jack as the man opened his mouth to protest. "Don't accuse me of misogyny – Sam and Joseph were obviously trying for a baby. When this is behind them, they may want to try again. Possibly, Sam will request an Earth–bound assignment."
Jack studied his hands.
The General continued. "And then there's you, Colonel J.J. O'Neill. What are we going to do with you?"
Jack looked up, "Sir?"
"Your future, Jack? Your next appraisal is due."
Jack mumbled under his breath, "I hate those damn things."
George let out a snort. "I know that. But they can be useful when it comes to investing in our fighting force."
The response was silence.
George cleared his throat. "Have a think about it, please, and talk to your team. They may be more help than you think."
Jack stood up to go.
"Jack, I need a favor from you. Could you go over to the hospital and see Sam for me? I really need to finish this – tell her I'll come by tomorrow, that's a promise. Thank you." He pulled his laptop toward him and started to type. He steadfastly ignored Jack O'Neill, who was making fish impersonations by the door. A loud knock broke the impasse. Jack had his hand on the doorknob, so pulled the door sharply inwards. The General had to bite back a grin when he saw his aide's surprised expression. The young airman tentatively crossed the threshold, squeezed past Colonel O'Neill and deposited two steaming mugs of coffee on the General's desk.
"Will there be anything else, sir?" he politely asked.
"No, thank you, Andrew, that's all." George didn't look up from his keyboard.
"Sir." The airman gave a respectful nod and sidled past the loitering Colonel.
"Was there something else, Jack?" Hammond finally looked up straight into Jack O'Neill's guarded eyes.
"No, sir." He was definitely dawdling. "I'll go then."
"Yes, Colonel, dismissed." The complex man backed out of the door and closed it quietly behind him. When was that man ever going to wake up and smell the coffee? George smiled as he gazed at the mugs on his desk.
His expression then dropped as he sighed heavily and pulled the files towards him once more. He re-opened the folder marked 'Carter, Maj. S.M.' and pulled out the forensic photographs taken after Sam's rescue.
Samantha Carter was going to need all the help she could get.
********
Sam was toying half-heartedly with her fork. She nudged her potato further back on her plate and poked at the chicken. Sighing, she placed the fork on the plate and pushed the hospital table away. Gingerly shifting her position on the hard bed, she could see more of the view from the window. It was raining; a cold, unforgiving February. The bare tree branches swung gently in the wind. She watched them for a while, letting thoughts and emotions run through her mind.
The sound of the door opening off to her left drew her attention back to the room. She smiled at Janet Fraiser, but then followed her gaze to the uneaten lunch and grinned ruefully. "I'll finish eating it if the kitchen finishes cooking it."
Janet pursed her lips and peered at the plate. "I didn't think it was possible for them to ruin chicken, but they've surpassed themselves. I'll round up some jell-o for you."
Sam rested her back carefully on the pillows. "Thank *you*."
She watched as Janet pulled off the chart hanging from the end of the bed. Janet flicked through a few pages.
Finally, the doctor spoke, "Dr. Warner says you had another restless night last night. How are you feeling now?" Janet raised her head to assess the patient's response.
"Okay." Sam picked at the threads of the bandage secured around her left wrist.
"Did you have a nap this morning?" Janet wasn't giving up.
"No." Fine, Sam would make her work.
"Joe hasn't called." Doctor-get-to-the-point-Fraiser.
"I didn't ask if he had." Sam didn't want to hear his name so early in the day.
Janet remained looking at her friend. "Anytime you want to talk-"
"What is there to talk about?" Sam cut her off. "You were here. He storms in, calls me a selfish bitch, says I deserved to miscarry *his* baby, and then storms out again. Bye Joe." Sam lifted her arm to wave off her husband, reliving the exchange. She stared at the fading bruises on her limb and slowly lowered it. Closing her eyes, she exhaled slowly. It was difficult to think. She felt Janet's cool fingers on her right wrist and peered through her lashes. Janet was counting the second hand around on her watch, taking her pulse. The doctor smiled kindly and released her grip, but held onto her hand.
"Your wrists are healing well. I think that you won't need grafts on them at all. Is the pseudoskin still itching?" She motioned for Sam to lean forward in order to check her back. Sam slowly did as she was bid, as the gel-filled patches were tight and pulled if she moved quickly. She could feel Janet prodding and smoothing and was grateful for the doctor's arm to lean against. Gently, Janet laid her back and looked directly at her patient. "Sam, I need to check your perineal repair."
Sam closed her eyes again. "Janet, can we do that later? I'm really tired." She opened her eyes slowly, her gaze averted.
"You refused to let Dr. Warner check this morning. Are you refusing me?" Janet didn't sound annoyed, but Sam guessed that she might be.
"No, but...later, I promise?" Sam was aware that she was pleading.
"Sam, I really-"
A knock on the door stopped Janet abruptly. The two women looked at each other.
"Come in!" Janet called, their stares drawn back to the door.
It opened to reveal Jack O'Neill dressed in an overcoat, shirt and tie, and carrying a large bunch of flowers.
There was a stunned silence before Sam and Janet exclaimed together: "Sir!" "Colonel."
Jack O'Neill looked himself up and down and grinned. "Yup, it's me."
Janet Fraiser was beaming. "Colonel O'Neill, I wasn't aware that you were visiting today. What lovely flowers!"
Sam was staring at her friend. What had gotten into her? She watched as Jack handed her the bunch.
"I thought you would like them." The Colonel winked at Sam. Janet began to giggle. Sam groaned inwardly; Janet Fraiser was now giggling.
Janet swung round and waved the bouquet at Sam, "I'll find a vase for you." With that, she was out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Jack O'Neill stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled self-consciously. He edged closer to the bed.
"So, Carter, how are you?" He began to fiddle with some loose change in his coat pocket.
Sam hated when men did that. "Marvelous."
"Oh." The Colonel's stock answer. He began to eye the room. "You've got your own room, that's nice."
"Yeah, Janet was worried that I would go wacko and kick the crap out of the walls with my casts." Sam was beginning to enjoy this. "Either that or I would describe my D&C and perineal stitches in too great a detail for the average patient."
The Colonel was now eyeing the door hopefully in the silence that followed. "Where's Jacob?"
"He's gone back to his motel to freshen up." Sam paused. She could feel her left leg trembling under the blanket. "For God's sake, just go, will you? I know you hate hospitals and that you haven't got a clue what to say." She turned her head to look out of the window again. The silence continued as the daylight began to dim.
The Colonel spoke again. "I know that you must be upset, and in pain, and everything."
Sam was too tired for this. "That's right." She snapped her eyes shut, hoping he would take the hint.
She could hear Colonel O'Neill swallowing. "Carter, this isn't you."
Sam's eyes shot open, "Yeah, well, I'm tired of being fucking Pollyanna!"
Jack paused and seemed to be musing over the absurdity of the statement. He started to smirk. Sam peeked up at Jack, a hot flush warming on her neck. A small laugh escaped her lips.
He pulled at the bed sheet. "Actually, I saw you as more of an 'Anne of Green Gables' girl; you know the smart one always getting into scrapes?"
Sam shook her head and shifted her back, which was smarting a little. "Okay, sir, you can't tell me you ever read those books."
Jack smiled again and nodded as he fiddled with his coat buckle. "Nah, caught it on 'Hallmark'."
Sam leaned back carefully. "Mmm, I thought so." She watched as the Colonel peered at her dinner plate.
"Is that food?" he queried.
Sam pulled her mouth down and pushed the table further away. "So they would have us believe. Janet's promised me Jell-o." Sam half turned to reposition the pillow only to find a pair of arms reaching to do it for her.
As she settled back, he spoke again. "Next time I come, I'll bring contraband." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Chocolate?" Sam's mood was beginning to lighten.
"Absolutely!" Jack's grin didn't seem forced this time.
She couldn't help it; a yawn escaped her. "Thanks."
She was aware that the Colonel was watching her carefully. "I'd better go, you need some rest. I'll come by again, bring the rest of the three stooges if you like?"
Sam nodded. She really was beginning to feel weary.
The Colonel seemed to be inwardly debating something. He kept opening his mouth to speak, and then closing it again, fiddling with the bedsheet. After a few minutes of this, he spoke, quiet and serious, with a tone she rarely heard. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry. I... " his voice tailed off and the busy hand stilled.
"Forgive me."
Sam turned her head to give him her full attention for the first time since he had entered the room.
"No, I won't forgive you." She could see him wince. "Because there's nothing to forgive. You had every right to put me on report for tardiness, and as for leaving me on the planet...I asked you to leave; you had no choice. The Jaffa would have killed you and the girl. As it is, we all survived. Well, except the baby. Perhaps that wasn't meant to be." Sam shifted her head back to watch the rain trace haphazard patterns on the windowpane. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jack O'Neill giving her the full force of *his* stare.
Suddenly, she felt a warm hand gently secure around her left. She closed her eyes as she felt her tears welling and fading.
She heard herself whisper. "I can't cry, yet."
Jack's voice was equally as low. "It'll come, Sam. Don't force it."
Sam nodded and looked down at their clasped hands. "I'm so tired."
Jack snagged a chair with his leg and sat perched on the end, not letting go of her hand. "Close your eyes. I'll wait with you." His voice was soothing, mixed with the gentle pattering from outside.
Sam could feel the pull of blissful sleep. "Thanks for the flowers," she managed to say.
Just before she gave into the pull, she heard him reply, "Yasureyabetcha."
********
End of Part Two