"Time to wake up Mr. Connor. Come on, open those gorgeous eyes of yours." The soft voice managed to reach through the fog in his brain. His first thought was 'how did she know what his eyes were like if they were closed'?
He tired to do as she asked but for some strange reason someone had crazy-glued them shut. They just didn't seem to want to open. Okay then, he'd just keep them closed and go back to sleep. It was much more enjoyable anyway.
"No, don't fall asleep again Mr. Connor. We need you awake."
Who the hell was Mr. Connor, Jack wondered? And why did they need him awake? Oh my God, it must mean something was wrong with his team. He had to go get them, he had to save them. With that thought he worked hard to pry his lids open. Geesh, not only had someone used crazy glue, they must have put ten pound weights on his eyelids.
As the light grew brighter and a hazy picture of a ceiling appeared he heard that voice again. "That's it Mr. Connor, you're doing fine." A soft, cool hand touched his, giving him encouragement and connecting him to this place.
"Sa…, Dnl" he tried to gasp but nothing came out right. He tried again but the words wouldn't come. He needed to make them understand. He needed to know what had happened. Where were Sam and Daniel and Teal'c? What if they'd been hurt? He had to help them. He tried to roll over, to get out of the bed but the hand stopped him.
"Whoa Mr. Connor. Take it easy. You're okay but you're not going anywhere."
There it was again, that 'Mr. Connor'. He finally was able to get his eyes to focus a bit better. The white blur that was beside the bed turned into the shape of a woman. As he peered at her he suddenly realized that it was a nurse, but not one he recognized.
"Na Cnr … Neillll."
"Neal? Is that your name? Okay Neal, I want you to take it easy. You were in a bad accident but you're going to be okay. You have a broken leg and some bad scrapes and cuts but otherwise you're fine. I just need to check you out and make sure that you know who and where you are."
He looked at her in confusion. It dawned on him that he wasn't in the Infirmary. So where was his team? He tried again.
"Teee?"
"Tea? I'm sorry, I can give you some water. I expect you're thirsty." She reached over and took a tumbler of water with a straw and gave him a drink. It was heaven.
This time when he spoke the words came out a bit clearer. "Where's... my team?" he asked, still worried.
"Team? I'm sorry Neal, I don't know what you mean. You were found after your motorcycle crashed. There was no one else there. Were you travelling with someone?"
It took a couple of seconds – a couple of seconds of confusion and trying to work things out with his tired and drugged brain. When it came back to him he was glad for those drugs. He knew that without them the shock and pain would have been bad enough to have let the nurse see his distress.
He no longer had a team. He no longer had friends. He was well and truly alone with only himself to worry about. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. The nurse kept calling him, wanting him to wake up but he ignored her. He desperately needed the safe haven of a drugged sleep.
The next time he woke up things were much clearer and he remembered instantly what had happened. At least he knew he had had an accident with his motorcycle. He knew he had been driving through the Canadian Rockies and that he was alone. Other than that he didn't have a clue!
He pulled the cord to call for the nurse, noticing for the first time that his leg was in a cast. With a sharp pang he realized it was the same leg he'd broken in Antarctica. He skirted around that thought as quickly as he could.
"Are you finally going to stay awake for me Neil?" It was the same nurse who had come by the last time he'd woken up.
"Yeah", he whispered. He didn't have the strength to speak loudly. "Where am I?"
"You're in hospital in Penticton." When he looked puzzled she explained. "That's a city in central B.C. You had an accident on the highway about 50 kilometers south of here. A trucker saw you wipe out and called for an ambulance."
"What's wrong?"
"You mean what are your injuries?" He nodded, not really interested but he supposed he might as well know. He had a vague recollection of her telling him something but it was all really fuzzy.
"Well, the main thing is a broken leg. You have quite a few deep contusions which will probably be pretty painful. It looks like you went sliding face first across the highway for quite a while. I think you left a lot of skin behind you!"
Ooh, he thought. Sounds peachy. He'd wiped out once as a teenager and he remembered the pain of scraping off your skin. In some ways it was worse than broken bones.
"Other than that and some pretty vibrant bruising you're okay. It's quite a miracle from what I hear. The trucker said he was sure you were a goner. You were travelling at full speed when suddenly you went out of control. He said you sailed through the air for a good 20 meters before landing and travelling another 20 on the road. You came to a stop when you hit a tree head first."
He looked at her in surprise. He too thought it strange that he had gotten off so lightly.
"You must have had one helluva good helmet. The doctor couldn't even find evidence of a head wound. Well, I've been a nurse long enough not to doubt that sometimes strange things happen. Whether or not they're miracles I don't know. I just know to accept them and be happy."
Well, he didn't know about the being happy part but he guessed he could be glad he hadn't ended up a vegetable or paralyzed. All the time she'd been talking the nurse had been checking his pulse and temperature and rearranging things on his bed. She was definitely the epitome of efficiency!
"How long?"
"When did they bring you in? Well, let's see – it would be the day before yesterday I guess. You slept through all of yesterday. Refused to wake up for me. I bet you give your wife a lot of grief! You're a stubborn one, aren't you?"
"No wife."
"No? How about someone else to contact. You said something yesterday about a team. Do you want us to call someone and tell them where you are?" She reached in her pocket and pulled out a small notepad and a pen. She stood expectantly, waiting for him to give her a name.
He thought about it for a few seconds. There wasn't anyone really. He'd cut ties with everybody when he'd left Washington. The only person he could possibly contact would be George or maybe Bill, but for what purpose? It would just worry them – and would give away his location.
"No – there's no one." When he didn't continue the nurse looked concerned.
"Are you sure? There must be someone – friend, family, boss – someone we can contact? You'll need someone to help you when you leave here."
"Why? I'm fine on my own."
"Well, that may be so normally, but right now you have a badly broken leg. The doctor's not going to let you walk on it for a few weeks. How are you expecting to manage without help? I understand you're not even from around here. You're motorcycle is nothing but scrap. You sure I can't call anyone?"
"No. I'll be fine on my own. I always am." The tone of his voice must have conveyed something to the nurse because she looked at him with a worried frown on her face. He again closed his eyes. As an avoidance technique it was priceless. Anyway, he was really tired. He slowly drifted off to sleep.
"Well Mr. Connor." This time it was a male voice speaking to him. He opened his eyes and there stood what was obviously the Doctor. Why was it they all spoke with that overly cheerful voice? And what about this Connor crap? Where was - Whoops! He just remembered. He'd been travelling on a false passport. He'd had some made years ago when working black ops. He'd kept them, figuring they might come in handy some day.
He realized the doctor was speaking and tried to focus " … were really lucky. We can't quite figure it out. By all rights you should be dead, according to the trucker. I understand he's decided to go back to church – figured he saw the hand of God in your accident."
What? What was the man talking about? He'd been lucky but hell, it could have happened to anybody. He must have just hit at exactly the right angle.
"The amazing thing", the doctor continued to drone on – maybe he's related to Jackso – no, listen to the doctor – is that your wounds seem to be healing amazingly fast. Looking at these cuts I would have said this had happened over a week ago, not just three days."
Jack glanced down at his arm and frowned. The Doc was right. These didn't look like new wounds. What was this all about? Suddenly recalling the Doctor's words about the 'hand of God' Jack wondered if somehow Thor had intervened. But if that was the case, why didn't he wake up in a pod rather than a hospital? And it's not like he was totally healed. He couldn't imagine Thor leaving him with a broken leg.
"So, Nurse Johannson informs me you're alone and don't have any family, is that right?"
"Yeah."
"Well, that's a problem. We can't release you without someone to care for you. You're much better but between the scrapes, bruises and broken leg you're going to have an awful lot of trouble getting around. We'll have to keep you until we can find a solution."
What! Stay in a hospital? Over his dead body, fumed Jack. No, he'd get out of here if it was the last thing he'd do!
"What about Molly?" The nurse asked. "She'd probably be willing to take him. It would help her out as well."
Who was this Molly, he wondered, who would be 'willing to take him'? Made him sound like some kind of mongrel dog!
"Yes, that's a good idea, Susanna. Why don't you give her a call and ask."
"Hey, wait a minute! Don't you think you should ask me first? I'm not just some stray you can give away."
The Doc raised his eyebrow, which immediately reminded Jack of a Jaffa he knew. Just like this Jaffa the eyebrow shut him up and he meekly waited while the nurse made the call.
"Well, Molly said she'd take you. You'll have to pay room and board but she'd make your meals and clean."
"Who is she and why would she take me in?" he asked, still grumpy over the way this had been handled.
"Molly is a dear, sweet soul who's had a hard life. She's a widow who lives on a very limited income. She has a small house and she often tries to rent out a room to supplement her income. It's pretty easy in the summer since we get a lot of tourists in the area, but this time of the year it's harder to come by renters. She recently got custody of her young grandson when her son and daughter-in-law were killed in an accident. Christopher is seven years old and is quite a handful. More than Molly can handle I think. She's trying to do the best by the boy but she's in her eighties and doesn't really have the energy. You would be doing her a favor to stay with her. Just offer a fair rent and she'll take good care of you."
When the nurse had first begun to speak he had actually thought it might be a perfect situation. Then she'd mentioned the grandson. Normally Jack loved kids – adored them actually – but right now he didn't' know if he could deal with a young boy. He knew his emotions and his mental state were pretty fragile. All his energy was consumed by simply surviving and avoiding thinking about or dealing with anything. He worried that this boy might make him want to care again – and frankly, that terrified him. He knew if the damn burst he might not survive it.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
"Okay, we're in Albuquerque. What do we do now?" Daniel looked at Sam, who was dressed in a white sundress and sandals. God, Jack would love to see her like this, he thought. He felt a serious pang at the thought of what had been destroyed by their actions.
"Where would Jack go in a place like this?" Sam asked.
"Would he not have had to stay in a hotel?" Asked Teal'c. "Maybe that is where we should begin."
"Good idea Teal'c", and so had begun the journey. For days they made their way from hotel to hotel, motel to motel, rooming house to rooming house. No one recognized Jack at all. There were about to give up when Teal'c discovered one more motel they hadn't tried. It was a little ways outside of town which is why they hadn't targeted it. It was when they saw the name that hope grew.
Parking in the lot, Sam made her way up to the office of the "Gate to the Stars" Inn. Daniel and Teal'c stayed behind.
"Hello", she called. After a couple of minutes an older woman came out of the back. With gray hair and and a frilly pink apron she looked like everyone's picture of the perfect grandma.
"Can I help you dear?" she asked. "Do you need a room?"
"No, thank you. Actually, I'm looking to find a friend of mine. I'm wondering if you've seen him?" She handed over the picture of Jack. It was a picture they'd taken at one of their team barbeques. Jack was grinning at the camera, holding up a piece of very black steak on the end of a fork.
The woman looked at it for a long time, a slight frown between her eyes. Eventually she looked up at Sam who had to suck back a breath. This woman knew something.
"Why are you looking for him?" she asked, her voice holding no emotion.
Sam thought about telling the story they'd made up – that an uncle had died and the lawyers were looking for him to settle the estate. Looking into this woman's eyes she knew that that story wouldn't wash. In a second she decided to tell the truth – at least the shortened version of it.
"He's a close friend – a very close friend. I've known him and worked with him for nine years. A few months ago something happened – something very bad – and he was hurt. I've come to find him and ask his forgiveness. I'm afraid for him." She looked directly at the other woman, trying to convey her sincerity.
"Do you love him?" the old lady asked.
With a soft sob Sam nodded. "With my whole heart."
The woman nodded in return and handed back the picture. "He came in here quite a few months back. He was a nice man – quiet but polite. I could tell something was seriously wrong. I thought maybe he's lost someone, that someone close had died. For a while I was worried but then I saw the strength behind his eyes. I knew he wouldn't do anything to himself but it was obvious he was suffering deeply. I wanted to be able to help but I knew I wasn't the right person." She paused and looked back at Sam. "You, you're the right person."
Sam closed her eyes in anguish, knowing it wasn't true, but not saying anything. She needed the information too desperately.
"Do you know where he went?" she asked. Please God, let this woman know!
"No, I'm afraid not. I can tell you that he asked where the nearest post office was with the kind of mail boxes you can rent. I think he also knew someone here. He asked to use the phone a couple of times and I could hear him talking. Sounded like he knew the person."
"Did you hear what he said?"
"No. I very carefully don't listen to my guests conversations. They deserve their privacy." Which was all well and good, thought Sam, but not very helpful right now.
"Can you tell me which post office he went to?" The woman nodded and wrote out the information. As Sam thanked her and turned to leave the woman spoke again. "May God bless you. I hope you find your man. He's a good soul and deserves to be happy." Sam smiled, a very sad little smile, and left.
"You were gone a long time. Did you find anything?" Daniel asked, without much hope. They'd been here for days without any leads.
"Yeah, Jack was there."
"What? Really? What did you find out?" Both the two men sat forward, anxious to hear what she had to say.
"She doesn't know where he is but she seems to think he knew someone here. He also asked for a post office that rents boxes. She gave me the address. Sam had barely buckled her seat belt before Daniel had taken off at a screech.
Of course the post office was a dead end. The postal workers wouldn't give out any information and began to look suspiciously at the trio standing there. They used the 'dead uncle' story but the workers looked sceptical and refused to give any information.
"I think we'd better get out of here before they call the cops Sam." Daniel was eyeing the man behind the counter.
"Okay". Turning they left the small building and got in their car which was parked in front.
"What now?" Sam looked at her friends. Poor Teal'c was looking particularly hot with sweat dripping down from under his hat. Not for the first time she wondered why he didn't get that tattoo removed. A plastic surgeon could have done it and left little trace. She supposed it meant something to him however.
"I don't know Sam. I can't think of what to do." As they sat there they watched a man limp up the stairs and go into the post-office. For some reason he caught Sam's eye. She didn't know why. She was sure she had never met him but there was something about himthat poked at her.
"Daniel, I'm just going back into the post office for a minute."
"Are you sure? They weren't too happy with us."
"I know. I'll just go in and buy some stamps. I need to check something out."
"Okay, just be careful."
As she walked into the post office she saw that the man was standing at the counter, speaking with the postal worker. He appeared to be on good terms with the man.
"Yeah, I know. Teenagers can be a pain in the ass sometimes! Don't worry though, they get better. Me and my son, we're best buddies now, but a few years ago I thought we were going to kill each other."
The man laughed. "Yeah, there are days all right! He's a good kid though. Most of the time we get along really well; he's pretty easy going. Just discovered girls! It's been great – he'll take a shower now without being prodded and he changes his clothes about four times a day. Drives the wife crazy. She's sworn she's gonna make him do his own laundry from now on."
"I remember those days! We were always running out of hot water."
"Yeah, but you know, I wouldn't have it any other way. Jack's a great kid, one of the best! He and his Mom and sister are the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Isn't that the truth. I feel sorry for guys who don't have any kids. They don't know what they're missing!"
"Yeah, one of my best friends lost his only son. I don't think he ever recovered. He's Jack's godfather and a great guy. I always felt sorry for him. He deserves to have a whole passel of kids!"
The conversation continued but Sam heard none of it. She was suddenly frozen. This was it! After all this time she'd found what they were looking for – but somehow that didn't mean anything right now. The conversation had cut her to the quick. It made her realize, all the more, what Jack had lost and what they had taken from him.
The man said his goodbyes and began to walk out the door. The postal looked at her, a noncommittal expression on his face. "Can I help you lady?" He still didn't trust her.
"Huh? What? Oh, I'm sorry. I was just wondering if I could get some stamps?"
"Sure, how many?"
"Uh – oh ten would be good." He got the stamps out but seemed to take forever. She wanted to run after the man but was worried they really would call the cops.
"Did you want a receipt for that?"
"No, thank you." She grabbed the stamps and turned, trying to hurry without looking obvious. As she got outside she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the man was walking down the street at a slow pace, an obvious limp to his gait.
"Excuse me." She called. The man turned around with a questioning look.
"Can I help you Ma'am?" he asked politely. Suddenly, noticing the way he was standing, as well as the way he answered it hit her. He was military – or at least he had been.
"I'm sorry to bother you but I couldn't help but overhear your conversation in the post office."
"Yes?" He looked surprised but not concerned.
"You see, I'm looking for a dear friend of mine and I'm wondering if you know him. His name's Jack O'Neill. I heard you speak of a friend who had lost his son and I thought it might be him."
The man turned from friendly to suspicious – and dangerous – in the flash of an eye. Yes, this man was military – and he was a friend of Jack's.
"Sorry, don't know anyone by that name." He turned and began to limp away. She reached out a hand and gently grabbed his arm.
"Please, it's very important. It's a matter of life and death." He stopped and looked back at her but then shrugged, a hard look on his face.
"Sorry. You'll have to look elsewhere." He started to walk away again.
"Jack was my commander for eight years. He's saved my life many times over and I'd never do anything to hurt him" (okay, so that was a lie – she'd already harmed him horribly – but she'd never do it again). "There are people out to hurt him and he doesn't know it. I just need to speak to him. Please, if you know where he is can't you tell me?"
The man stopped again and slowly turned around. "What's your name?"
"Sam, Sam Carter."
"You're Sam?" he asked, clearly shocked.
"Yes, why?"
"Jack never told me you were a woman. Just said you were the best 2IC he'd ever had. Last time he was here I asked about you – he said he'd lost touch with you since he went to DC."
As much as that hurt at least he hadn't said anything bad to this man about her. She couldn't have born that. Just then he walked up to her and looked at her carefully.
"Wait a second! You're the one in the picture."
"Picture?" she asked, not sure what he meant.
"Yeah, Jack went to pay me for something and this picture fell out. When I picked it up I started teasing him about the hot blond" she could feel herself blush. "He didn't find it funny – just demanded that I give it back to him and he put it away, real careful like. I caught him later staring at it. I figured it was his lady friend but he didn't want to talk about it so I didn't say any more. That was you – you were the woman in Jack's wallet."
She hadn't known that he carried a picture of her. They'd been taking things pretty slowly so that sort of thing hadn't even come up. Of course, she had her own picture of Jack, that she carried with her. The fact that he had done the same gave her a warm feeling, swiftly followed by a deep sadness. She realized more and more, as each day went by, how much she had lost by what she had done. Her hand lifted to the necklace. Jack, where are you my love?
She smiled at the man - she didn't know his name. She was afraid she was going to have to stretch the truth a bit here. She just hoped Jack never found out.
"Yes. Jack and I were" were what? They had never really defined their relationship. "we were seeing where things were going. We served together for a long time so could never do anything about it but once we were out of the same chain of command we decided to get more serious."
"Good for Jack! He's needed someone for a long time. But hey, what's this about. Jack was in a bad way when he was here and now you say there's something going on. I don't get it."
"Look, is there somewhere we can go and talk? The rest of Jack's old team is in the car", she pointed to where Daniel and Teal'c sat in the small rental car. "I'll tell you all about it then." He pondered for a moment and then nodded.
"Across the street", he pointed. "there's a coffee shop. Why don't you meet me in ten minutes. I have to let my wife know I'll be a bit late."
When Sam returned to the car she told them about the man she'd been talking with and that he knew Jack. They made their way across the street and waited until he came in and sat at the booth beside Sam.
"I guess I should introduce myself. My name's Bill Kostegan. I'm a teacher at the local middle school." He looked at the two men sitting across from him.
"Hi Bill. My name's Daniel Jackson. I'm an archaeologist and a good friend of Jack's"
"Archaeologist? I thought Sam said you were on Jack's team. I thought you were all with the Air Force?" He began to look suspicious.
"Yes, I was on Jack's team. I'm not with the military but I worked for them – still do. I'm a civilian scientist attached to the base in Cheyenne Mountain where Jack was posted."
"Oh, okay. Although what Jack was doing with a scientist! He always said he couldn't stand them!" He turned to Teal'c. "And you are?"
"I am Murray. I too was on O'Neill's team and consider him my brother. I would die for him."
At first Bill was amused but then realized that this very large, formal sounding man was being serious. He was impressed. Jack certainly knew how to inspire loyalty.
It was Daniel that, as usual, began to speak. "Can you tell us how you knew Jack. Were you with the Air Force too?"
"No – Marines. I wasn't a career officer like Jack. I'd gone into the Marines as a way to get an education. I came from a pretty poor family and couldn't have managed it any other way. Just my luck that the first Gulf War hit just as I was starting out. I got sent over to the Middle East. That's where I met Jack O'Neill. Best God damned thing that ever happened to me."
Each member of SG1 was pleased, but not surprised, at these words. Jack had a whole contingent of loyal fans all over the world.
"What happened?" Sam knew that there was something behind that statement.
"My unit got caught in the middle of a sniper fight in a small village in rural Kuwait. We were pinned down and had called for reinforcements. I guess the nearest unit to us was an AF Special Ops one. I remember when the guys heard that they all groaned – making all these comments about fancy flyboys!" Sam could feel herself grow red – those damned Marines could be so bloody arrogant!
"Anyway, we were waiting when all of a sudden there appeared to be a break in the Iraqi offenses. My Commander told us to go, to move out. We all started to move when a bullet ripped through my knee. I knew it was bad – I could see that half of my leg had been torn away. I was also bleeding pretty badly. I shouted to the Commander for help. I remember him turning around and looking at me and then he kept going. So did the rest of the guys. They all just ran off and left me. I knew I was going to die right then and there." He stopped talking, obviously still affected by the memories.
"Well, as I lay there bleeding to death I suddenly heard a noise. I looked up and saw this big guy, face all blackened, coming towards me. For a minute there I thought it was one of the enemy, but then he grinned and I knew everything was going to be all right."
"Hey, watcha lyin' around for jarhead?" the cocky young Air Force officer ran over and skidded down beside the wounded man. He quickly took out some field dressings from his pockets and wrapped the leg as securely as he could. It was then that the soldier realized that the enemy had returned. They were again pinned down.
"You'd better leave me. They're coming", the young marine gasped.
"Hell no! I don't leave anyone behind. We'll just have to keep 'em away."
"How?"
"Let's see? Know any country music? That should keep them away."
"I like country music!"
"You do? Wow. Okay then, how about any bad jokes? The enemy hates bad jokes. Here's one, "knock, knock'." The young soldier looked at him as if he were crazy. "Come on, 'knock knock'"
"Who's there?" the marine was fading fast but figured it was easier to go along with this crazy flyboy.
"Armageddon."
"Armageddon who?"
"Armageddon outa here!" The Air Force officer began to shoot at the enemy. The Marine could tell they were getting closer. He figured they didn't have much time. He feebly tried to grasp the officer's arm.
"Please", he gasped, "can you tell my parents I love them and I'm sorry."
"Sorry? Whatcha do?" The officer continued to shoot off rounds, watching carefully as the enemy approached.
"Died"
The officer looked over quickly and frowned. "Sorry kid. I'm not takin' that message back because it would be a lie. We're gettin' out of here pretty soon. Just hold on."
A couple of minutes later a shot hit the Air Force officer in the shoulder. He grunted but kept on shooting. Time seemed to stand still. The young marine kept expecting the enemy to overrun their position any minute. He continued to hear his protector talk as if they were sitting in a bar over a couple of drinks. He wondered if the man was insane. He didn't seem to realize the danger they were in.
It can't have been long – maybe no more than ten minutes – although it seemed a lifetime, when the sound of new gunshots filled the air. The man over him turned and grinned. "See what did I tell ya! The Air Force is here to save the day." Another few minutes and the enemy was routed. A handful of soldiers came to their hidey hole.
"Hey Jack, takin' a break are you?"
"Yeah Frank. Just thought I'd rest for a while. Had to save me a Jarhead."
"Ah, now why'd you go and do that? We got too many of them already."
"I know, I know. But they're cute when they're young!" Just then the medics ran up and began to work on the marine's leg. He glanced over to the side, expecting to see his savior sitting there, grinning. But, when he looked, he saw the man slowly topple over. 'Frank' caught him as he fell, shouting for the medics.
"I woke up in hospital with half my leg gone. I wanted to die when I found out but, you know what they did?" The three people at the table didn't know, but could all guess. "Yeah, they put Jack in the bed next to me. We spent the next three weeks beside each other. It seems the bullet had torn him up pretty bad and he'd lost a lot of blood. I had no idea. He'd acted as if it was nothing more than a stubbed toe."
"Nah, if it'd been a stubbed toe he would have been screaming and bitching and complaining. Believe me, I've heard him."
Bill grinned. He'd gotten to know Jack pretty well over the years. It was clear that this Daniel, knew him well too.
"Well, he kept me sane in that hospital. I was sent home at the end to try and learn to live without a leg. I was in a pretty deep depression for a long time. It was Jack who helped me out of it. After he'd gotten back from Iraq he came and visited me. Told me to get off my ass and get moving. He was in pretty bad shape himself but refused to let it get to him. He bullied me until I got my life back in order. I moved down here because I thought it would be easier to live in a place without snow and ice. I met my wife and we've been here ever since. Jack is godfather to my oldest. I owe him my life and I'll do anything for him. What I won't do is betray him!"
The members of SG1 all felt like squirming but now was not the time to let on what they'd done. They needed to get information from this man.
So, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c gave him an 'edited' version of events – leaving out any reference to aliens or genetic testing. They made it sound like a white slave ring. They told him that Jack had taken part in a sting operation on behalf of the government and one of our allies and now his life was in danger. The 'bad guys' were out looking for him."
"Okay, sounds like something Jack would get himself involved in. What I don't get is why he disappeared. When he came here he looked like his best friend had died and he didn't want to be found. What does that have to do with the sting operation?"
Sam looked at Daniel, wondering how they'd explain this one. "Uh, the operation was pretty dangerous and he had to stay undercover for a long time. The bad guys duped him into thinking that some of the people he considered friends had betrayed him. He was pretty depressed and we figured he needed some time to be alone. We figured we'd let him be, not realizing the danger. It was only when we got word that someone was looking for him that we realized we needed to find him. By that time he'd thoroughly disappeared."
"Is it usual for your officers to just run off like that? I would think the Air Force wouldn't like that."
"No, not usually, but he's retired so I guess they figure he can do what he wants."
"Retired? I had no idea. He didn't say a thing!"
"So Bill, what can you tell us? We really need to find him."
"I know and I wish I could help you." As they looked frustrated he continued. "The only reason I'm even talking to you is I recognized you from Jack's wallet and I remember all the great things he'd tell me about his team. He considered you family so I know I can trust you. I want to help, I really do. But I don't know if any of this will help. He just asked me to collect mail and send the occasional note to someone called George Hammond in Washington. He calls me every once in a while but doesn't tell me anything other than he's okay and to ask me to do some banking for him. Everything goes through down here and he's given me power of attorney to handle his affairs. We did some investments together after the war and we've done pretty well so he trusts me to handle the money."
It occurred to Sam that there were a lot of things about Jack she hadn't known. It bothered her a bit but she also knew that this was the private part of Jack that she would probably have spent a life time uncovering if she hadn't screwed up. She was sure he would slowly have revealed these kind of things to her.
"So, you have no idea?"
"Not really. I can give him a warning the next time he calls but that probably won't be for another few weeks. He just called the other day."
"Oh?"
"Yeah – he was just checking on things. Told me to send another note to Hammond. He left a bunch." Suddenly he got a strange look in his eyes. "Wait, there was one thing he said." They looked expectantly at him. "He said something about silver. What was it?" There was a long pause as he thought. "I remember! He asked if Amy – that's my wife – likes silver. I said yeah, she loved it. That's when he said he'd send a piece of jewelry for her because he was in the middle of the 'silver capital of the US'. I have no idea where that is but it might help."
"And how long ago did you say this was?"
"Oh, about five days ago."
"Thanks Bill. You've been incredibly helpful." They paid their bill and shook hands with the former marine, promising to let him know when they'd finally found Jack.
"Another person saved compliments of Jack O'Neill!" Daniel spoke somberly. They couldn't help but think of the man they were searching for. How could anybody so good have had so many tragedies in his life?
"So, where are we headed now Sam?"
"To find the silver capital of the United States."