It's been a while since I worked on this story. Things got kind of busy with me—work, kids, health, stuff like that. Life's going smoothly right now, so I've had a little time to indulge in writing. Hope all of you out there are healthy and happy!

Thank you for reading and for all of your kind reviews!

~From the previous chapter...

The NID agents scanning the passengers departing from the Colorado Springs and Denver airports that Friday morning in July do not see anyone who resembles the well-known members of SG1.

In Denver they pay no attention to the old man with the bushy white hair and eyebrows, back bent with arthritis and leaning heavily on his cane. One of them even casually helps the old fellow lift his bag onto the scale at the ticket counter!

They do notice the large black Rastafarian with long dreadlocks and full beard, wearing colorful clothes and headband, who moves through the line smiling brightly, and speaks with a strong Jamaican accent! The agents exchanges derisive looks, and do not bother to hide their contempt.

At the smaller Colorado Springs airport the mustached businessman, his black hair shorn very close to his head, in suit and tie, his glasses in his breast pocket, does not merit a second glance, as he walks with a small group of similarly clad business- and lawyer-types into the terminal.

One agent does let his gaze pass over the woman with mousy brown hair falling untidily into her face, with pale, almost colorless skin and tinted glasses that hide her eyes. But that agent looks at all the women he passes, no matter how unattractive! It crosses his mind that this one might have a decent figure under the ill-fitting gray skirt and white blouse, but there is no thought that this might be one of the people he is supposed to be looking for.

The rest of the travelers need only to dress casually and blend in with the other passengers as they board their flights.

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Chapter 7

~Maryland safe house; Friday, 1200 hours (D.C. time). 3 days, 3 hours remaining.

The safe house, located on Monroe St. in Lakewood, Maryland, sits in a wooded cul-de-sac, just five minutes off the Beltway. The residents of the house, a couple in their forties named Joseph and Marian Williams, are both employees of an obscure intelligence organization, a branch of the Secret Service—informally called Harry's Boys, since it was created during the administration of Harry Truman—which answers only to the President and his designated representatives. The Williams' primary assignment is the maintenance of the safe house.

From the outside the house appears as ordinary as dozens of other houses in this middle-class neighborhood—and should any of their neighbors visit, that is exactly what they would see. It is the basement of the house which is extraordinary. Somewhat larger than the apparent footprint of the house, it is two levels deep, and contains a meeting room, sleeping quarters, bathroom and shower facilities, kitchen, storage rooms and an armory.

First to arrive is Maybourne, having taken a cab from the airport to an address several blocks from the Williams' house. Once the cab disappears down the street, he picks up his duffle bag and walks the rest of the way.

O'Neill takes a taxi from Reagan Airport to the railroad station, where he changes clothes in the men's room—losing the bushy white hair and eyebrows, and putting on large sunglasses, and an Irish flat cap pulled low over his forehead. From there he takes the Metro out to the Lakewood station, which is only a couple of blocks from the safe house.

Teal'c arrives soon after Jack, having also divested himself of his disguise, and replaced it with casual jeans, tee shirt and leather jacket as well as a Redskins cap.

Daniel and Sam come along as a couple about an hour after Jack and Teal'c, driving a rental car they picked up at the Baltimore airport, using the false identities that Jack provided them.

By noon, the members of SG3 have joined them and they are gathered around a conference table in the meeting room discussing plans of action. There are boxes of pizza on the tables and bottles of water and soda. Everyone digs in hungrily.

"Harry, what have you found out from your contacts?" O'Neill wants to know.

"Kinsey's tightened the net around Hayes," Maybourne begins. "Apparently he's aware that SG1 has slipped through his fingers. Word is he's also furious about not being able to get control of the SGC. He threatened Hammond with arrest if he didn't stand down and surrender command."

O'Neill smirks. "I'm sure George was quivering in his boots."

"The report from Barrett this morning said the President is supposedly unconscious. Barrett believes he's actually being kept sedated."

"There's gonna be a whole shitload of people on trial for treason when this is over," O'Neill growls. "What's the plan? Can we just move in and take Hayes away from them?"

"Too many guards," Joseph Williams points out. "The NID has that section of the hospital completely locked down. And an all-out assault could endanger too many innocent people."

"We're talking about the welfare of the President of the United States here," Jack points out. "Possibly even his life. We may have to risk collateral damage." He looks around at those assembled, ending with Maybourne. "Well?"

"You won't get an argument out of me, Jack. What are you thinking?"

"There are eight of our teams lying low in Colorado, waiting for orders. I suggest we send them some."

"Bring them here?" Dixon asks.

Jack nods. "I was thinking about it on the flight out. There's nothing they can do there. And I don't know of a better assault force. Whatever we decide to do, we're going to need backup. And there's no question of their loyalty."

Joseph Williams frowns. "The President's standing order for Harry's Boys is to minimize civilian casualties."

"The more trained personnel we have, the better our chances of keeping civilian casualties to a minimum," Jack points out. "And our teams are the best trained in the service."

"Jack," Daniel interrupts. "Don't you think we should try and find a peaceful way to do this?"

"If you've got an idea, Danny, I'm all ears," Jack says shortly. "Just don't forget we're on the clock, here. And I don't think the NID is gonna just let us waltz in and bring him out."

"But we should at least try to negotiate a solution," Daniel persists. "Too many innocent people around..."

Jack was shaking his head. "Y'know, I really don't think that's the case, Daniel. They've got Hayes completely isolated, and I think anybody around him is bound to be in on this. Why would they have it otherwise? Somebody could get very suspicious if they discovered the President was hidden in their ward, don't you think?"

"But can we take that chance..."

"Can we take a chance on leaving Hayes at the NID's mercy?" Jack snaps. "What if they plan to kill him, and say he had another stroke or something like that! My bet is that Kinsey aims to make his position as acting president a permanent one!"

The people at the table glance around at one another, and it is Teal'c who speaks.

"I believe you are correct, O'Neill. There is little advantage for Kinsey as long as PresidentHayes lives."

"I agree," Dixon says. "And as long as Hayes is isolated, Kinsey could have him killed at any time. I think the SG teams are our best bet. Including SG1 and SG3 we would have an assault force of forty people."

O'Neill looks at Williams. "Can you outfit that many?"

Williams nods. "Yes."

"And if we bring 'em out, we'll need quarters. Can you handle that?"

Again Williams nods. "We have several safe houses in the area."

"Good. Dave, get hold of Kelly. Have her arrange for the SG teams to be flown out here ASAP."

"Tell her to get in touch with General Hall at Peterson, let him know what's going on," Maybourne adds.

Dixon nods and leaves the table, stepping into an adjacent room as he takes out his cell.

O'Neill turns to Williams again. "How many of your agents do we have at our disposal?"

"As many as we need," Williams assures him. "This agency has the authority to draw from others if needed. But I recommend we use Secret Service people. They're the most loyal to the President."

"Sounds good," Jack says. "Find out how many we can count on and have them stand by."

Williams nods agreement.

"Do we have anybody on the inside besides Agent Barrett?" Samantha asks.

"We have several agents undercover with the NID, but only two others involved in this operation," Maybourne says. "So far, Barrett's in the best position to keep us informed."

"We need somebody to reconnoiter the hospital," Jack says. "And we need plans of the wing where they're keeping the President. Also is there any way to get some of our people into the hospital as staff members?"

"Shift change late tonight is probably the best time to get someone in there." Marian Williams speaks for the first time. "That's the first shift of the weekend, and there are always new or part time people who aren't well-known."

"Are there agents who could pass as medical personnel?" Samantha asks. "I could probably pass as a lab tech in a pinch."

"They'd know you," Maybourne objects.

"They didn't recognize me at the airport," she points out. She runs a hand through her now-brown hair. "The color change and the glasses, scrub off the make-up—that seemed to work fine."

"You wear make-up?" Jack says, feigning shock.

"Ha ha," she smirks.

Daniel rolls his eyes, Harry bites the inside of his cheek.

"It's a good idea," Jack agrees, growing serious. "You, too, Daniel. You fade into the woodwork pretty well when you want to. You could pose as a psychologist." He graces Daniel with an evil grin, then turns to the Williamses. "What about some others people?"

"I'm sure we can find others," Marian says, glancing at her husband, who nods. "I'll get on it right away."

"And I'll get the plans of the hospital," Williams adds. "I also have someone in mind to check out the area."

"Good," Jack says. His glance goes around the room and halts on Major Sharp. "Vic and I will go with them. Can you get us outfitted with communication devices and unobtrusive clothes?"

"No problem," Williams nods. "I'll contact the agent who'll take you, and he should be here in an hour or so." He and his wife get up to leave.

"Are you sure it's a good idea for you to go, Jack?" Maybourne asks. "They're gonna be on the alert."

"I gotta see the layout myself, Harry. Don't worry. They won't spot me."

Dixon comes back into the room just then. "Kelly says she'll contact the teams and General Hall right away. She suggested that she let General Hammond know what we're doing."

"She still on?" Jack asks. When Dave nods, he holds out his hand for the phone. "Hey, Cailín, this is Jack O'Neill."

She laughs at the old nickname. "Hey, Jack. Haven't heard from you in a long time. How's it going?"

"Things could be better right now. Dave says you want to update our friend under the mountain about what we're up to. I think that's a good idea."

"I'll do it, then." Her voice becomes very serious. "You and your teams be safe, Jack."

"You, too. Be sure to give Hammond my best. Bye, Kel." He hands the phone back to Dixon. "Vic and I are going with one of Williams' agents to scope out the hospital. Williams is also gonna get us plans of the place. The rest of you should get some sleep. We'll be going over those plans in just a few hours."

The group breaks up then. Most of them head into the sleeping quarters to rest. Jack disappears into a bathroom with one of his cases. When he emerges twenty minutes later Vic Sharp and Maybourne stare at him for several moments. Sharp barks a laugh. The red wig hangs shaggily over O'Neill's forehead and down the back of his neck. The shape of his face has changed subtly—filled out by inserts in his cheeks. Make-up has given his skin tone an unhealthy sallow look. His slouch makes him seem two or three inches shorter. The only thing unchanged is the alert look in his dark brown eyes—then he lowers the lids and a stranger is standing there.

"Do you think this will do, Harry?" O'Neill asks with a smirk.

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