(note: this chapter uploaded with Chapter 6, 7/1/07)



Chapter Seven

March 18

In the morning, Sam and the rest of her team went to Markus' office to ask about the journal. They found the door open and Kurdy complaining to Markus, "If you want to come with me, would you hurry up?"

"Just a second," Markus said, sounding harassed. He saw the team enter. "I'm sorry; I really don't have time at the moment. Elizabeth and several of the others are leaving, and I've got to get upstairs."

"That's okay," O'Neill entered. "It shouldn't take long. We were wondering if we could look at Simon's journal."

Markus froze and then shot a look at Kurdy.

Shrugging, Kurdy tried a smile. "They were asking about Egyptian cults. Simon wrote something about one. I didn't think it was a secret," he added, in a cajoling tone of voice.

"No, it's not," Markus agreed slowly, frowning slightly. He took a small leather-bound notebook off the top of his bookshelf and started paging through it. "You're right -- I'd forgotten that. Here it is." He handed the opened book to Daniel. "Feel free to read it, but it doesn't leave the room. A good friend of mine died for this, so treat it with respect."

"We will," Daniel promised.

"I hope it helps you." Markus started toward the door, where Kurdy was standing, and then abruptly went back to the computer station to gather a few papers.

"Markus, come on," Kurdy prompted. "I'm gonna go say goodbye to Elizabeth, even if you're not."

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Markus waved a hand to them as he hurried out the door, Kurdy at his heels. "I'll be back in a little while."

As soon as the door closed, Jack sat down at the round table. "All right, people, what do we have?"

Sam spread out her papers. "Last night I was able to cross-match my data and I came up with twelve possibles." She handed one sheet to O'Neill. "These are all places that show above-background levels of alpha particle radiation and artificial lighting, suggesting nuclear or naquadah power generation for a settlement." She had identified the twelve sites by general geographic information, such as southwest Idaho, and also more precise longitude and latitude designations.

"Any of them match where he was hanging out when we found him before?" O'Neill asked, perusing the list.

"Unfortunately, no," she answered.

O'Neill grunted and turned to Daniel, who was reading in the little book. "So? Daniel? What does it say?"

Daniel didn't answer at first, turning the page. He turned another page, scanned it, and then put the book down. "Interesting. Simon talked to a woman in a bar in some place called Deer Springs. She had a couple of bodyguards, and was wearing what he describes as a "slinky black dress", eyeliner, and a necklace with a cat pendant. She was there to recruit people. She claimed that by worshipping Seth, a follower could have immortality."

"That does sound like our snaky pal," O'Neill agreed. "Anything more?"

"Well, she also told Simon that "her god" had withstood the Big Death, and anyone who believed in him would not only survive but prosper as well. She claimed that he had hundreds of followers. Simon apparently dismissed her as a cultist, wrapped around one of the few adults who survived the plague. As far as I can see with just a quick read-through, he didn't look into it any further."

O'Neill nodded thoughtfully. "OK, Deer Springs. That was the name, right? Where is it? What state?"

Daniel shrugged. "It doesn't say."

"Well, there's got to be an atlas over there, right?" Jack waved to the bookshelf.

Since Sam was sitting the closest, she got up and started to look. She found no atlas, but a very interesting collection of other books--history, engineering, what looked like the complete set of operation manuals for the mountain systems. A well-thumbed copy of the meditations of Marcus Aurelius. And the entire bottom shelf was full of physics and mathematics textbooks and references.

She bent to take a closer look. One was the same edition of Hearn's Quantum Mechanics that she had used in grad school.

"Carter? What did you find?" O'Neill asked.

Pulling back her hand guiltily, she answered, "Nothing yet, sir." She continued to look for an atlas of some kind, but glanced back at the bottom shelf with its tantalizing books. Why had Markus put a book about quantum mechanics into what looked like his personal collection? Had he studied it? Or was it connected with him at all? Maybe it was a relic of the former base commander and nothing to do with Markus. Those texts certainly didn't look very used.

Wait, was that…? The large blue book sitting horizontally on the top shelf had nothing on its spine, but it looked suspiciously atlas-like. She grabbed it and found it was in fact an atlas of the United States. "I have it." She went back to her chair and went to the index, looking for a town called Deer Springs.

"There are six Deer Springs listed," she announced. A mental comparison between her list and the states of each Deer Springs gave her one match in Kansas. Flipping to the right page, she found Deer Springs and then the coordinates of her brightly lit, radiation emitting site, northwest of Kansas City. Grabbing a pencil from the desk, she circled both sites and slid the atlas across to the colonel. "Here. This is Deer Springs and the other one is one of the twelve places I matched in the satellite data. They're about twenty-five miles apart. It's not far from Fort Leavenworth, though I don't know if that's important. Assuming the priestess wannabe was recruiting close to home and I'm right about my assumptions about Seth's use of naquadah, it should be this one."

O'Neill frowned over the map, and Daniel leaned in close to look too. "You know what they say about assuming things, Carter," he said absently.

She gave a smile and little shrug. "Yes, sir. But sometimes, you just have to approximate."

He shrugged back. "Yeah. At least it's close by. Sort of."

Teal'c, always dependable to be the voice of wisdom, or as Sam had heard O'Neill say once, the voice of doom, pointed out, "If Markus Alexander permits us to leave."

"There is that," O'Neill agreed.

"He didn't say he wouldn't," Sam said, then had to add honestly, "of course he didn't say he would either. He said --"

The main door swung open and Markus came back in. He noticed that all four of them were watching him. With light sarcasm, he asked, "I'm sorry - am I interrupting? Should I come back later?"

"No, no, not at all, come in," O'Neill invited broadly, with apparent disregard for the fact that they were guests in Markus' own office. "We think we found our bad guy."

"Oh?" Markus approached. "Where?"

"Here," Sam tapped the map. "Kansas."

"Close to Lawrence," Markus mused, more to himself than to them. He folded his arms and pondered, a frown between his brows

"Is that of some special significance?" Teal'c asked, when Markus said nothing more.

"I don't know," Markus answered. "Maybe."

After another silence O'Neill said, "Well, now that that's cleared up… I was wondering if you're gonna let us go look for our guy?"

Markus wandered away to look through the window. "Do any of you play chess?" he asked.

O'Neill and Daniel exchanged confused looks. Sam answered, "I do. I'm not all that good at it, but I like it. Why?"

"At a certain point a good player will realize that checkmate is inevitable, even though it might not be for a dozen moves. The novice player will continue the game, sending his pieces into the fray, heedless of imminent disaster. And yet sometimes, the novice player can stumble on a winning gambit that the good player might not have considered, through sheer dumb luck."

Sam wondered which role Markus was casting himself in -- was he the good player realizing that defeat was inevitable, or was he the blundering novice?

O'Neill asked dryly, "Do you practice being cryptic or does it come naturally?"

Markus turned back to them. "It's important to get the tone just right," he answered deadpan. Then he straightened and added, "I'll let you know, tonight. There's a lot going on right now. In fact, if you'll all excuse me, I have a meeting in less than ten minutes." When none of them moved, he added, "In this room."

"Oh. Right. No problem." O'Neill rose, gesturing the rest of his team up.

Sam gathered their materials, including the atlas, but handed the journal back to Markus. "Thank you, it was very helpful."

Outside the office, with the door safely closed, O'Neill pointed to Daniel. "Your turn."

"That's the thing, Jack," Daniel said. "Can we leave it --" he glanced at the door and lowered his voice, "to just Jeremiah and Kurdy, if we're all going to find Seth?"

"We'll see what he decides first," Jack said. "He'd have to be an idiot to let us all loose, wouldn't he? And somehow, chess metaphors aside, I don't see it. Do your thing, and we'll see you later. T-man is up next for the midday shift, and I'm after him."

---+---

Markus seemed deep in thought to Jack, as the colonel shadowed him down the corridor toward his office. Actually, Markus was often lost in his thoughts, which was probably the only reason he hadn't caught onto his guards yet. But between Lee and the St. Louis meeting, it was really no wonder. Jack had overheard him practicing three different versions of his opening remarks so far.

Luckily, nothing had happened that required any of his "guardian angels" to intervene. Jack and the others hovered in the background as Markus moved from place to place, watching anyone who came up to him. There wasn't much they could do about meetings -- Erin was doing all she could to get herself invited to them, as protection.

Someone appeared out of the cross-corridor, stepping out into view ten feet ahead of Markus. Jack had a vague impression that he had seen the young man before, probably at mealtime, but he certainly wasn't one of the council or anyone that Markus seemed particularly close to.

Markus stopped and greeted with him with a puzzled note in his voice, "Terence? Something I can do for you?"

Terence was wearing a worn mish-mash of clothes like they all did -- a bulky too-large navy sweater that hung shapelessly down to his hips and past his hands, loose jeans that once might have been blue, and green canvas boots with holes in the toes. He looked like a little boy playing dress-up in his dad's sweater.

Terence looked behind Markus in the hall and froze when he saw Jack meandering in his direction.

Jack was used to these kids freezing with astonishment when they saw him. Shock was a better reaction than fear, which he got too. But Terence wasn't just surprised, he looked angry. It was a brief expression, passing when he shifted his gaze back to Markus, but it made the back of Jack's neck prickle. He tried not to take it personally - maybe the kid was mad that Jack had survived while his parents had died - but it strengthened his feeling that something wasn't quite right. Ordinarily he would have kept back and let Markus conduct his business, but this time he came closer and made no effort to pretend that he was not watching and listening.

"What is it?" Markus prompted. "Is there something wrong?"

Terence's eyes flicked again over Markus' shoulder to Jack.

Jack put his hand on the handle of the zat beneath his jacket, and whether Terence saw that or not, he shifted his feet and tucked his hands behind his back, looking nervous. "No," he answered. "I, um, I have the system maintenance report."

Markus sounded impatient. "Terence, you know that all reports are supposed to go to the council now."

"I know, but I just thought you --"

Markus shook his head, interrupting him sharply, "No. That's the council's job, and they're welcome to it. Is there anything else?"

"No, I -- I guess not." But Terence didn't move for a moment, as if he still had something to say. But he finally turned away. "Later, Markus."

Jack watched him until he'd gone out of sight and dropped his hand off the zat, relieved that his suspicion had been unwarranted. He turned back to face Markus, who was now frowning at him. Peremptorily he gestured Jack to join him.

Jack had the sinking feeling he had just been made. Markus wasn't that distracted. But Jack smiled as he ambled closer, hoping he could bluff his way through. "Howdy, Markus. How's it going?"

"Fine." Markus was still frowning at him, with that slightly sideways puzzled expression of his. "I've seen you around a lot lately."

Jack shrugged. "Just going the same direction I guess."

Folding his arms, Markus looked at him for a long moment. "And Murray was also going my direction at lunch, as I remember. And Daniel was hanging around my office this morning."

Jack shrugged again, trying for careless and unworried. "Well, I guess you're just a popular guy."

"Uh huh." Markus narrowed his eyes, looking more perturbed. "What's going on?"

"Not buying it?" Jack squinted hopefully at him.

"Not in the least."

"Damn." Jack let out a theatrical sigh. "Are you sure you really want to know?"

Markus raised his brows and then looked resigned. "I'm quite sure I don't, but tell me anyway."

"It was Erin's idea actually. She thought -- and I agreed with her," Jack added, in case Markus thought he was just doing it because he'd been told to, "that you might be in some danger. That Valhalla might take this opportunity with the big meeting coming up, to, um, remove you."

Now Markus' face turned thunderstruck, and he stared at Jack, blinking in shock. "So you're guarding me?"

"Not just me, all of us. You are a popular guy, Markus," Jack added, more seriously. "And it makes sense to keep you that way."

Markus stiffened and drew himself up, lips taut with anger. "I know you mean well. I appreciate the thought. I do. But I'm not going to be followed around by a bodyguard. Not Outside and sure as hell not in here. This is my home, and these are my friends. Besides, if there's any danger, I'm perfectly able to take care of myself."

Jack said nothing, just watched with a sort of distant admiration. Erin had been absolutely right. Markus hated this idea. Unfortunately, it wasn't really up to him.

"So you can tell your friends to quit it," Markus continued. "I'll handle Erin myself." With that ominous threat, he turned and started back toward his office, convinced that Jack would stay where he was and let him go his way.

Instead Jack followed at his heels and to his right so he had a clear view of the hall ahead.

At his office door, Markus stopped. He opened his mouth to complain again, but Jack was faster.

"The threat is real, Markus," he murmured. "There's a murderer in this base, and it wasn't Lee. Erin told us. And you have no idea who it is. That person could kill again." Markus still looked mulishly resistant. Jack kept going, trying to talk some sense into him. "Look, I know you hate this, but like it or not, you're a target. You, not to pussy-foot around the truth, are the target. So, if me and my friends can keep you from getting killed, that's what we're going to do."

Markus snapped his mouth shut. He considered numerous responses, and grimaced. "You're not going to go away, are you?"

Jack shook his head and answered brightly, "Nope."

"Even if I ask very nicely?" There was a touch of pleading in Markus' voice, which made Jack smile.

"Nope."

Markus turned his head, thinking with his brow furrowed. It took only a moment for him to decide and he looked at Jack again. "Somebody's told you you're a pain in the ass, right?" Markus asked, but his tone was resigned.

Jack knew he had won. So he could be gracious. "It's my middle name."

Markus let out a short sigh as he opened the door. "Since I apparently can't stop you…" he gestured Jack to go first, "I guess I have to live with it."

Jack went inside and automatically swept the room with his gaze to make sure no one was waiting.

Markus shut the door and indicated Jack should sit at the table. "If we're going to have to stand in each other's shadows, I have a few more questions for you on the subject of encircling maneuvers…"

Jack's eyes widened involuntarily as he sat down. God, not more "questions"! The man was a sponge for information. No, more like a black hole -- he didn't just absorb it, he sucked it in irresistibly.

Jack caught sight of a small anticipatory smile on Markus' face, and his heart sank. Markus might have to acquiesce to this plan he didn't like, but that didn't mean Jack was going to get all his own way. Payback was only just beginning.

---+---

Majors Jack O'Neill and Charlie Kawalsky stopped at the crown of the hill and looked down upon road going into Millhaven.

"Something's wrong," O'Neill stated while looking through the binoculars. A rill of unease slipped down his back. This wasn't good.

"No kidding. First Chen wants to see us, next he sends us on a dead-end mission," Kawalsky complained. "He must've known the place blew up months ago."

"That's not what I mean. Look, the guards on the main road are doubled. You don't suppose they're holding this party for us, do you?"

Kawalsky borrowed the binoculars. After a moment he passed them back, still frowning down at the two gun-mounted jeeps and the almost hidden men in the undergrowth. "Maybe Waverly's coming to visit?"

O'Neill snorted. "Yeah. And Simmons' pet spy sends us on a wild-goose chase for the hell of it. No, something's going down."

"So, we take the back way, just to make sure," Kawalsky suggested, flashing a grin. "Wouldn't want to screw up their little surprise, now would we?"

"Let's visit Wiley. He'll know something."

The two men nodded. They hid the abandoned jeep and made their way to the hidden cabin. Both knew about Wiley's obsession with the Big Death and the "facts" surrounding it. As long as the man wasn't a threat to them personally, he could collect all the old newspapers and paperwork he wanted. In fact, they had donated a few facts to his collection, a time or two. Wouldn't want Waverly to ever be considered a hero.

"Hey, good buddy. What's shaking?" O'Neill entered the man's house boldly.

Wiley was sitting at his table drinking a glass of water, and nearly spat it out in shock when he saw who had come in.

"You?! The whole place is looking for you. Seems that someone in the Mountain's been compromised and they're blaming you."

O'Neill and Kawalsky exchanged looks. "They blame us?" Kawalsky asked in disbelief. "Never even been there. Why us?"

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "Because we have so many friends."

"I heard 'em talking," Wiley added anxiously. "I don't think they know why. The order came from, uh, higher up."

"Swell," O'Neill muttered.

"Chen. Gotta be Chen. He's the only one we know up there." Kawalsky turned to his partner. "Maybe we should talk to him?"

O'Neill's eyes rounded. "And just how are we gonna get to him? Knock on their front door and ask politely?"

Both men turned to look at Wiley. "You know anyone from the inside?" Kawalsky asked.

Wiley held his hands up in surrender. "I don't know anyone from the End of the World. Honest." His eyes were wide and frightened.

In unison, the two majors remarked, "We'll improvise."

"I'd wait 'til dark," Wiley advised.

"Got any food?" Kawalsky asked, getting up and making himself at home by opening and closing the cabinet doors.

It was past dusk when the two men left Wiley's secluded cabin. They debated briefly about going back for the jeep or heading into Millhaven to get more intel. Something weird was happening, and neither of them wanted to get in the middle of it, until they had a better idea of why they'd been targeted.

Time seemed short, so they went back to the car. O'Neill had that creepy cold feeling of unfriendly eyes watching him. He tensed and looked around carefully, but couldn't discern a threat.

"We need to hurry," he whispered to Kawalsky.

The other man nodded and they began to remove the branches covering the hood. A gun fired from the eastern slope, impacting the side panel only two feet from him. O'Neill's instincts threw him down to the ground, diving for the end of the jeep for cover and around to where Kawalsky had ducked down, behind the front tire.

A male voice shouted from near the shooter's position, "Major O'Neill. Major Kawalsky. You are surrounded. Surrender."

"For something we didn't do?" O'Neill yelled back. "I don't think so!" He and Kawalsky were on the passenger side of the jeep. If they could crawl inside and get the jeep started, maybe they could out-drive this posse. Kawalsky signaled him to drive and O'Neill nodded, grabbing the keys from his pocket.

They carefully opened the door. Another shot. This one hit beyond their heads. O'Neill went in first. As soon as his friend had slid onto the floor, he turned on the ignition, flooring the gas as he peeked his head above the dashboard. Away they went. More shots, but O'Neill didn't slow down to see what had been hit.

Kawalsky took a quick look behind them. "We're leaking gas," he announced. "This ride isn't gonna last long."

"Are they following us, yet?"

"Nope. But we didn't have much gas to begin with."

"I know, I know. I'm thinking."

"Can you do that? Drive and think?"

"Yes, smart ass, I can."

They were heading south. It was in the general direction of Thunder Mountain, but O'Neill had no idea if Kawalsky's idea had any hope of working. They'd heard bad things about Thunder Mountain: it was full of ignorant kids, with their fingers on the triggers of nuclear weapons, or it was run by a megalomaniac with an army of fanatics. Neither sounded very promising. But Chen -- liar though he might be -- had suggested there was more going on there than Valhalla Sector brass wanted their soldiers to know.

But first things first, they had to ditch the jeep, before it ran out of gas.

"Isn't that a jeep ahead of us?" Kawalsky asked.

There was, and it was coming straight at them. It even looked military, similar to theirs. "Ah, shit!"

"Yeah, but I don't think it's from Millhaven. It still has plates."

The two men smiled at each other. "It'll do. Hold on," O'Neill remarked as he cranked the wheel hard to the left, throwing their jeep into a controlled spin that ended with their jeep blocking both lanes. The other jeep's brakes squealed in a frantic attempt to keep from hitting them, skidding to a stop only a few feet off from Kawalsky.

In a quick glance into the other car, Jack saw two young men, neither long out of their teens. Both stared at them with wide eyes.

O'Neill and Kawalsky both jumped out and headed for the other jeep, circling it so quickly the other two barely had time to open their doors. Which just made it that much easier.

"We need to borrow your transport," O'Neill remarked jumping into the front seat, shoving the driver away from the wheel, toward the passenger side. Apparently still shocked, the kid didn't put up a fight.

Kawalsky pulled the passenger to the back cab with him, and O'Neill did a quick one-eighty and headed south.

"That ought to slow them up," O'Neill announced, relieved that they seemed clear. Neither of the majors saw the two young men smirk or the gun resting in the jacket pocket of the one sitting next to Kawalsky.

They drove for thirty minutes, without any sign of being followed, before O'Neill let his foot off the gas. "I think we're in the clear. Thank you for lending us your jeep for a quick getaway. I'm Jack and that's Charlie."

The one in the front answered with remarkable aplomb, "I'm Brian and my friend is Steve. Where are taking us?"

"Where are you boys headed? Might be nice to share the ride for awhile."

"We were headed north," Brian answered, with a touch of understandable sarcasm, since they'd just driven twenty miles south.

"Yeah, well, sorry 'bout that, but you know how it is… " O'Neill shrugged.

"It's all right. I think we pretty much found what we were looking for," Brian continued, and Steve chuckled.

Jack snapped a quizzical glance at his reluctant passengers. Brian smiled at him. Why was he smiling?

There was a sudden scuffle in the back, a hard slam, and a soft yelp from Kawalsky. O'Neill glanced in his rear-view mirror to see his partner slumped over and Steve holding a gun pointed right at the back of his head.

"Just keep driving, we'll tell you where to go," Brian ordered, suddenly not nearly as mild-looking as O'Neill had thought. He laughed softly. "You want to know the best part of all this, Major O'Neill? We were looking for you."

Talk about out of the frying pan and into the fire. But hell, if these kids were from Thunder Mountain and not Millhaven, he was right where he wanted to be anyway. It might not be a knock on the front door, but hell, beggars couldn't be choosers.

---+---

Markus sat at his desk going over his speech for the eighth time that evening. He had read it for Erin, for Meaghan, then lastly for Daniel, who with puppy-dog eyes, asked yet again if he could accompany Markus to St. Louis.

With a sigh, he set the papers down and ran his fingers through his hair. He would have to leave the next morning, if he was going to make the meeting. Half the cars had already left, both last night and this morning, since their journeys were more circuitous, picking up those who didn't have their own transportation.

He picked up his speech giving it another read through. Daniel had said it sounded inspiring. Erin had said any changes would detract from the honesty of his heart. Meaghan had said it sounded like something Hamilton might have written, and then that she was going to go nuts if she heard it again. Still, Markus wanted it perfect. He couldn't afford a flat appeal. They would tear him apart.

Someone knocked and he glanced up to see Sarah stick her head in his door.

"Markus? Steve and Brian are here. Seems they brought back two prisoners. Do you want them in the brig with Lee?"

Markus did not want the four newcomers to see their new guests, quite yet. So, the brig was out of the question for now. "Have cuffs put on them and I'll meet them in the level three conference room."

NORAD had a small conference room, where it should be possible to talk to these men first. Putting down his speech, yet again, he left the office, but soon Daniel came alongside. How could he lose this ever-vigilant bodyguard without raising suspicions?

"How's the speech coming? You're not rewriting it again?" Daniel asked.

Markus shrugged. "Just a word here and there. Mostly working on delivery and memorizing it. Have you seen Erin?"

"I think she's in the cafeteria with Jeremiah."

Markus turned his steps in that direction, and Daniel dutifully followed. Downstairs, he saw Erin arguing with Jeremiah and Markus knew his intervention would be appreciated, at least until Jeremiah realized what Markus was going to do.

"Erin, just the person I was looking for."

"Something up?" she asked, eyeing Daniel.

"No, I just need your help." He turned to Daniel. "I'm sure you still have plenty to ask Jeremiah about the Outside. Since we'll all be heading out soon, you should be prepared."

"Markus -- " Jeremiah started to complain, but then he caught Markus' deliberate glance at Daniel and subsided. "Sure, no problem," he muttered.

"Thank you," Markus said and touched Jeremiah's shoulder gratefully as he passed.

Out in the corridor, he asked, "What were you two arguing about?"

She hesitated to answer. "Oh, you know Jeremiah, always refusing to do what he's told …"

"Let me guess," he interjected. "He's now part of my bodyguard detail."

She flushed. "So you found out? You're not mad?" she glanced up at him warily, waiting for the explosion.

"No. I don't think it's necessary, and I feel ridiculous with everyone trailing around in my wake. But Jack made it pretty clear that you're all going to keep on doing it, no matter how much I dislike it." He called the elevator and while they waited, in the privacy of the empty corridor, he had to admit softly, "It's not as if I don't remember Danbury, Erin." His right hand touched the spot on his left side where the bullet had cracked a rib and scattered bone fragments, but thankfully not penetrated his lung. "And I know you're doing it because you care. But I can't help feeling like a prisoner in my own home."

She lifted her chin stubbornly. "Better that than dead. And now that you know we can do a better job." She took a deep breath, and he could see the worry in her eyes before she turned her head away. "When Lee radioed from Danbury that you'd been shot, I -- God, I was so scared, Markus, that we would lose you when we'd barely started, and it would be all over."

He was touched by the expression of her faith in him, but was also troubled. If she and everyone else actually believed that, then his death would unravel everything, because no one would think it was possible to continue. He laid his hand on her shoulder. "No one's irreplaceable, Erin. You, and Raymond, and even Andrew understand what Thunder Mountain's destiny could be. Any of you could lead them on."

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. Once the doors closed, she shook her head. "I know you have to say it, and you probably even believe it, but it's not true. We share in your vision, Markus. And how are we supposed to replace that if you're not around?"

He smiled. "Well, I'm sure you'd think of something." He pushed the button for the third level. "And if I'm dead, I really won't give a damn, so just do what you have to do. Keep our people safe, that's the main thing."

"I know, and I will," she promised, and then frowned, realizing what button he had pushed. "Why are we going up top?"

Thankful to leave behind all this depressing conversation about death and dying, he answered, "We have some guests in the conference room. Lee said there was a Major O'Neill at Valhalla Sector. When our visitors arrived, he called to find out if our Jack is the same one. He's not. So I asked Steve and Brian to bring in this major, which they did, along with the major's friend. I want to question them."

"Don't you think that's a bit dangerous?"

"Yes, it is. However there are two things going for him. First, Lee says this major is, pardon the pun, a major pain-in-the-ass to the higher-ups at Valhalla. He's not well liked there. Second, after talking with ours, I think we might be able to bring this second O'Neill to our side. At least get some current intel from him."

Erin whistled. "Are you going to tell Jack about this?"

"Yes," he answered. "But later. Maybe right before he leaves."

"He's leaving? I didn't know that. When?"

"They need to find a power source in order to 'run the gate.' Sam is checking out possible places."

"And you're gonna just let them go?"

Markus smiled. "Of course not. I'll have Jeremiah and Kurdy escort whoever goes. It's a different world out there. I wouldn't want them to get lost."

Erin understood exactly what Markus wasn't saying. That was what made her an excellent choice for second in command. "So they're not all leaving."

The doors opened and he gestured her out first. "No. At least one is staying here. More an advisor if something else happens with the ring, but also as a hostage."

They started down the hall. It was one of the nicest hallways in the mountain, with painted walls and dropped ceilings to hide the pipes and ducts, since it led to the old NORAD general's office and official visitor's lounge and conference room. But since most of the activity of Thunder Mountain happened downstairs, the nice furnishings of the rooms had long since been stripped out and dispersed. The wood conference table and chairs had been taken for the Advisory Council meeting room, replaced here by a battered Formica-topped metal table and gray chairs, which always looked shabby compared with the carpeted floor and built-in wood credenza.

"And me?" she asked. "Have you changed the plan? Am I still going to St. Louis with you?"

"No. I want you to stay here. I need to know that when the meeting is over, I have a home to come back to. Daniel will drive me."

She didn't look mollified, but Markus had already opened the door.

The two men were cuffed to the chairs, with Brian and Steve on guard beside the door. "Thank you for bringing them so promptly," Markus said to his recon team. "I hope they weren't too much trouble."

Steve grinned. "They ran us down. Can you imagine?"

"It's certainly ironic," he agreed. "If you both will wait outside, this shouldn't take long."

After they'd gone, Markus turned to examine the two. The unfamiliar one had dark hair and eyes, and an unfriendly expression. O'Neill was easy to recognize, since he looked almost exactly the same as his twin. "Hello, Major O'Neill."

"You must be The Man," O'Neill responded.

"The Man?" Markus repeated.

"Markus Alexander. The one General Waverly is scared of. Pleased to meet you." The greeting was said with less sarcasm than Markus expected.

"You too. Who's your friend?" Markus asked.

"Told you he was only after you, Jack. Ya could've just dumped me," the other man whined.

O'Neill answered, "Major Charles Kawalsky. No, I'd hate to go into enemy territory without backup."

"This isn't enemy territory," Markus was quick to add.

"You got us handcuffed to the chairs. I call 'em as I see 'em and this makes us your prisoners." He rattled the cuffs.

"True," Markus agreed pleasantly. "But since Valhalla Sector's already tried to kill me, I thought a little caution was in order."

O'Neill narrowed his eyes. "So why me? You must know that Valhalla has a large contingent at Millhaven, why did you decide that you wanted me?"

"We need some information."

"So it was all a ruse. Saying that Lee Chen had been compromised by me."

Markus stiffened. "Excuse me? Are you saying that Valhalla thinks you told us he was a spy?" He did nothing to hide his surprise. This confirmed there was another active agent in the Mountain. He turned and looked at Erin. Her worried eyes spoke the same.

If anything O'Neill's eyes narrowed further. "It's obvious I didn't. I've never been here before. So, how would such a story come about?"

Markus couldn't forget that this wasn't the Colonel O'Neill who was their current guest. Both were dangerous, but this one had no reason to like him. Markus gingerly took a seat at the big table. Erin stayed standing behind his chair.

"It's a puzzle," Markus agreed. "Lee was found to have communication devices that could only contact the outside. We calculated it was Valhalla. Your name came up during his interrogation." He let O'Neill and Kawalsky chew on that for a moment. It answered the question of why O'Neill, but concealed the context. Let him believe that Lee had fingered him as possibly sympathetic to Thunder Mountain.

After letting the silence linger, he folded his hands on the table in front of him. "Can you explain to me why Valhalla considers us their enemy? We should be working together to rebuild this country, yet they seem bent on destroying it."

"Ain't that the truth. It's called the military way. Since you're not part of the chain of command, you must be one that needs to be commanded," he answered flippantly.

"You believe that?" Markus challenged.

O'Neill and Kawalsky exchanged a glance. O'Neill answered, "I'm not taught to believe anything outside my orders."

"Good answer," Erin mocked.

Markus looked steadily at O'Neill. There must be something of the colonel in there. He was an honorable man. The Big Death could not have totally destroyed that honor. He hoped. O'Neill fidgeted in his chair.

Markus continued, "Why did Lee want to see you in Millhaven?"

"Now that is a really good question," O'Neill sat straighter in his chair. "I've been wondering the same thing. First he meets with us, then he sends us on a wild goose chase to grab a supposed nuclear bomb, but the place blew up months ago. And it wasn't a nuke, though I guess he might not have known that. Who in their right mind would leave nukes in the hands of children?"

Markus glanced down at his own hands. Who indeed? Who had left nuclear weapons in his hands? He suspected it had been O'Neill's commanders, and Markus had no intention of giving them back. "Children grow up. We're adults now." Markus processed what O'Neill was really implying and looked up again, incredulous. "Are you telling me the only reason the military has been taking over every weapons base between here and Virginia is to keep them out of the hands of children? Isn't that an over simplification?"

O'Neill's cuffs rattled against the chair as he tried to gesture. "Of course we want the nuclear arsenal in our hands. It only makes sense. I can't help it if you believe it's a direct threat against you."

Markus folded his arms, unwilling to let that self-serving justification go unchallenged. "Didn't you say that General Waverly is afraid of me? Doesn't it stand to reason that if one has possession of armament, one would use it against a believed threat? Am I a threat to Valhalla?" he asked pointedly.

O'Neill's eyes widened. "We're not gonna bomb Cheyenne Mountain. Whatever gave you --" he trailed off. "Well, okay, I admit, maybe Waverly would." He didn't look comfortable with the idea. Maybe it was because he was now inside the mountain.

"Do you have any idea what I stand for?" Markus asked, curious to see what O'Neill would say.

"How the hell should I know. You're a kid who's grown up in his father's house. You have his tools and tech, but no idea how to use it."

Markus leaned back in his chair and glanced pointedly at the overhead lights. "What makes you so sure I don't know how to use it? I've run it for fifteen years. We still have electricity, food, running water, clothes, and gas. We all have fulfilled lives. Can you say the same?"

Neither of his guests answered. But that was fine. Markus thought he had gotten his point across.

"We know what we're doing," Markus told him. "The whole point of Thunder Mountain is to bring together the towns and villages into a bigger community. To restart trade and communication between people who have been isolated. We shouldn't be wasting our time or resources on petty wars. Our energy should be spent rebuilding our country, better than it was. And martial law is not acceptable."

O'Neill turned his head away. "You're never going to convince the leaders at Valhalla. They still have dreams of controlling everyone, with the Big Death virus."

"The virus? How?" Markus asked, probing what O'Neill knew and how it meshed with Lee's story.

"They've been working on a vaccine and cure since the Big Death. And I know they've got samples of the virus still hanging around. If they get both a vaccine and a cure, they can do whatever the hell they want, since no one can stop them."

He noticed that O'Neill was now speaking about Valhalla Sector as "they", not as "we". It was a revealing amount of linguistic distance he was putting between himself and the commanders. But the confirmation of Valhalla's intentions was discouraging. He had been holding on to some hope that Lee had been exaggerating the depth of the corruption they faced. But it was true. "Do you agree with them?"

"Hell no!" O'Neill exclaimed, and Kawalsky shook his head in vigorous agreement. "It's a damn miracle that the human race is here at all, and those idiots are inviting total extinction for nothing better than their own glory. One of their scientists figured it out a long time ago, but he won't tell them. They torture him regularly, to see if he'll break. But we don't play their games. That's gotten us no promotions, and a career going nowhere. But I'm not changing my mind. I'll kill the good doctor myself before I'd let Waverly and that cold-fish Simmons get their hands on the vaccine."

Markus believed him. The question had certainly seemed to touch a nerve. He wondered how many other rank-and-file soldiers of Valhalla Sector felt the same. Which left Jeremiah and his father in a difficult position.

Sharp dark eyes rested on his face. "I answered your questions," O'Neill said. "Now answer one of mine. If it comes to war, can you defeat Valhalla Sector?"

He heard Erin's sharp breath behind him, but kept his gaze steady on O'Neill. The question was only a surprise for how soon O'Neill had asked it. "Can I? Yes. But the real question is -- can I defeat them at a cost I can live with? That, I don't know. I don't want to try to build a civilization on a foundation of blood. I would rather find another way. But if they force me to, Thunder Mountain will fight."

O'Neill nodded. Both he and Kawalsky had thoughtful, somewhat surprised, expressions. Markus hoped that meant they were thinking about what he said.

Markus glanced at his watch, noting that it was getting late. He had spent more time here than he'd meant to. There was still a lot to do before he left in the morning, and he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast. "I can't let you go until after the meeting."

"Oh yeah, the famous St. Louis get-together. Heard a bit about it."

"What did you hear?" Markus asked curiously, trying not to reveal how important the answer was.

"Only that it's happening." He grimaced. "I'm not privy to inside info if that's what you're looking for."

Markus wasn't exactly sure what he was looking for in this mirror-image O'Neill, just that he knew he had an opportunity and he had better seize it while he could. He stood, preparing to leave. "For now you have two choices: a cell next to Lee's with all the comforts of home. Or I'll have someone fly you to California, without any means of contacting your superiors."

"Fly?" Kawalsky blurted in surprise.

Markus smiled, not very nicely. "I control all the military assets left in Colorado Springs, Major Kawalsky. And I know how to use them."

Markus watched carefully as the two men made up their minds. If they wanted to leave, then an attack on the Mountain was eminent. They wouldn't want to get caught in the crossfire. If they chose to stay, then--

O'Neill leaned back in his chair, as casually as he could with the cuffs on. "We'll take the cozy cell. I'm tired, could use some R&R. Right, Kawalsky?"

"Whatever you say. Personally I'd rather go to California and look for a good trout stream."

"You like fishing?" Markus asked. "I know of a great place just a few miles from here. Maybe we'll go when I get back."

O'Neill nodded. "Yeah. Maybe."

Outside the room, Markus gave Brian and Steve instructions to take the prisoners to holding. After they'd gone back into the room, Erin turned to him, amused. "Since when do you know anything about fishing?"

He shrugged. "You put a worm on a hook and drop it in the water. How hard could it be?"

She let that pass with just a roll of her eyes. He pretended not to see. Halfway back to the elevator, she stopped. He stopped too, knowing what was bothering her and what she was going to say.

She said it anyway. "You can't go to St. Louis, Markus." When she didn't see immediate agreement, she looked in his face, her blue eyes anxious, and tucked her hands around her as if she felt a chill. "We've got another spy. Valhalla knows. If they know where and when, they're going to be there. We have to cancel -- and you can't go."

"We can't cancel," he said. He had considered it briefly, but there was just no way. "It's too late. All the leaders are already on the way. And most are out of contact."

"You can call Nathan and cancel. He can turn people away as they arrive."

"No. I'm not going to do that. We would never get any of these people on board again, Erin. You know it as well as I do. The same thing goes for not going myself. No one would ever trust me again, if I'm not there. Especially if it gets attacked, they'll think I set them up."

She shook her head, several times, a hard glint in her gaze. "So, what then? You're going to go get yourself killed to prove -- what? Tell me exactly what this is going to prove, Markus," she demanded.

"I'm not going to get killed," he said, trying to reassure her. "Yes, it's a risk, I know that. But it's not that big a risk, not really. Why would Valhalla Sector attack us and prove me right? They must realize any action like that would simply unite the opposition that much faster."

"Markus, these are people who are torturing Jeremiah's father for the secrets of the Big Death! Does that sound like they're reasonable people to you?" she exclaimed in frustration, then heaved a breath and lowered her voice, without losing any of her agitation. "Not everybody is as logical as you are. They're not as smart. You can't expect them to do what you would do, because they won't. You heard him -- he couldn't even say that Valhalla Sector wouldn't try to nuke us. Do you seriously think they're not going to take down St. Louis?"

"If they know about it. If they can plan an attack on short notice. If they even care," he enumerated on his fingers. "I'm far more worried about them coming here while we've got so many of our people outside. It only takes one person to open the doors, and then this place isn't a bunker anymore, but a rat trap. And we know there's one. At least."

She glared at him, for a moment unable to speak, then her arms unfolded and she slapped the wall behind her. "You know I hate it when you do this, right?" she grumbled.

"Do what?"

"Make sense," she muttered, then in a slightly more reasonable tone, said, "All right, I'll stay here and bake cookies while you…" she stuck a finger abruptly into his chest, "will keep your head down and not get killed. Do you understand me?"

He rocked backward from the force of her insistent prodding. "Yes, yes, okay."

"Because if you make me come after you and save your ass, I will be very annoyed," she warned.

He valiantly attempted to repress his grin, knowing she was genuinely concerned, but he just couldn't help it. "Suddenly I believe you're an Air Force major in another reality." And he didn't try to escape the hand that swatted his shoulder, because he knew he deserved it.

"Jerk." Then her expression shifted back to her somber "business" face. "All right, what's the plan? I know you have one, so let's hear it."

He cast a wary eye on the walls, remembering how Jack had mentioned that there were microphones. He was going to have to strip them all out eventually. But until then, he knew that his office was clean, since he had spent three hours last night with the operations manual, tracing and removing each one. He yawned at the mere thought of tonight's project, rewriting code for the comm system. But it had to be done before he left, since no one else could do it. There was never enough time.

"Come on, let's go back down and I'll tell you all about it."

---+---

Malek waited until most of the people had settled to their rooms for the night. He slipped out of the lab and went to see how Devon was doing. While it wasn't against the rules for him to associate with the other researcher, Colonel Simmons would instantly want to know if he had extracted any useful information about the virus. Malek could hardly tell him the truth, that he was concerned about Devon's health, but he also didn't want to give the hierarchy any excuse to question his own loyalty. So he had to be quick and careful.

Libby was there, trying to coax Devon into drinking some broth. The man looked terrible. "Can he talk?" Malek asked quietly.

"Yes. And I'm not deaf either," Devon interjected, sounding annoyed.

Malek sat down at the edge of the bed. "I want to discuss something I learned from General Waverly yesterday. Have you heard about this meeting in St. Louis? The leader from Thunder Mountain, a man named Markus Alexander, is supposed to be leading a rebellion against Valhalla. Can this be true?" He waited.

Devon exchanged looks with Libby that told Malek that they knew quite a bit about the meeting. How much would they share? "I will not betray your confidence," he added.

"Markus Alexander is not about conquest," Devon stated hesitantly. "The meeting he's organizing is to unite the country, to try and get people to work together." Devon shifted on the bed, obviously in pain, but eager to share his perceptions.

Feeling guilty that he had forgotten, Malek took out the little white pills he had created using Tok'ra technology. They were able to alleviate the pain, but left the mind lucid. Libby handed Devon a glass and he took the medication.

"Unite as in making a new country?" Malek asked, prodding for more information.

Devon nodded. "He wants to draft a new constitution. Needless to say, Waverly sees this as a direct threat to his authority and the government in place here."

Malek nodded in understanding. "Who's to lead this new governmental body? Markus?"

"Don't know, maybe Markus in the beginning. Lee says he'll probably draft a council, hold elections, and so on. That's basically what he's done at Thunder Mountain."

Malek pondered this. It was a far more favorable portrait than the one Waverly painted, and he wondered how much was true. "Lee told you this? I thought the two of you had a falling out."

"Staged," Devon chuckled a little, choking in pain. "Sort of. I wasn't happy that he wanted to play sycophant to Waverly. Turns out he wanted out of here. He didn't care where, just out. Markus gave him a purpose."

Malek regretted that he hadn't known of this as well.

"What was your news?" Devon asked. "Is there something else?"

"After your session," Malek tried not to say torture, "General Waverly and Colonel Simmons received a report that Lee's undercover position has been compromised by Major O'Neill. There was also a reference made to the meeting, which I knew little about, but it made no sense that O'Neill would be in contact with Thunder Mountain."

"You're right, it doesn't make any sense. Lee hasn't tried to contact me, so the fact that he's been found out could be true. What about Major Kawalsky? Is he involved?"

"His name was not mentioned."

"Strange that O'Neill could be involved on the sly with Thunder Mountain and not Kawalsky, and Lee not saying anything. I need to think about it."

Malek recognized the dismissal. Libby must have also, since she gathered the bowl and spoon and walked with Malek to the door.

"Gordon, let us know also if you hear more information," she asked.

Malek agreed and retired to his own room.

---+---

Jack bolted awake, gasping for breath. His heart was pounding so frantically, for a second he thought he must be having a heart attack. His skin was tingling, as if he'd stuck his finger in an electrical outlet.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair, trying to get his brain working, and then looked around. The room was dimly lit by the green exit sign over the door and the phosphorescent paint someone had put in a stripe at the top of the ceiling. Everything looked fine, unchanged from when he'd thrown himself down to sleep on his cot.

In the opposite cot, Daniel stirred. "Jack? Is something wrong?" he asked, when he saw Jack sitting up.

"I don't know," he admitted, as he probably wouldn't have if it hadn't been pretty dark. "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?" Daniel asked.

He shrugged and looked away, now feeling embarrassed. "Must have been just a dream," he muttered. "Sorry."

"No problem," Daniel yawned and pulled the blanket up. "'Night, Jack."

Very soon it was quiet, except for Daniel's light snore that he always had the first twenty minutes of sleep, and the whisper of the air circulation system.

Jack didn't bother to lie back on his cot. He knew he was too awake to sleep any time soon. He glanced at his watch to find it was just after two in the morning. Perfect.

He pulled up his legs, tapping his fingers on his knees for about half a minute until that got boring. He wanted to move, but he didn't want to wake Daniel, so he was somewhat limited in his options. God, was there anything worse than being wide awake in the middle of the night?

He could put the time to good use, and actually think. Markus had said last night that he didn't care who went looking for Seth, but only two of them would go and they would go with Jeremiah and Kurdy as escorts. One would stay at Thunder Mountain, and the fourth person would go with him to St. Louis, and that fourth person had to be Sam or Daniel. Rather to his team's surprise, Jack hadn't argued the arrangement. One look in those determined brown eyes and he'd known the decision was not negotiable. In fact he was lucky he was being given any choice at all.

But he wondered how much choice he had really. Carter had to go with him to find Seth, since he needed both her technical expertise and her ability to use Goa'uld tech. Daniel wanted to go to St. Louis anyway. Markus had "suggested" that Jack stay behind, remarking that his appearance might draw unwanted attention. Jack had almost told him that Teal'c was over one hundred years old, but that would get into the whole Jaffa thing and Jack didn't want to go there. In any case, being told he was too old to do something made him want to go do it anyway, especially in this place where they seemed to think that old people were either evil or frail.

So he had said that Daniel would go with Markus, and he and Carter would go looking for Seth, while Teal'c stayed at Thunder Mountain. Markus had nodded, unsurprised by his decision.

Going off to confront a Goa'uld with Carter and two guys he didn't really know, and were untrained besides, was not his idea of a well-planned mission. But beggars couldn't be choosers, and he couldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and all other similar clichés, which meant he was going in without intel and proper backup. The four of them would be on their own.

Suddenly he had the oddest sensation that he was falling. Even though he could feel the blankets and bunk beneath him, he felt as if he could fall right through them. He seized the frame of the bed beneath him and held on tightly. His heart started pounding again, throbbing fast and hard, and he couldn't breathe.

"Daniel!" It came out as a croak.

His bones seemed to prickle, and his skin tingled with a powerful electrical charge. And then it got really weird. There were colors, and sounds, and the sensation of movement, and yet it was all very, very quiet and dark…

When he came back to himself, he was lying on his back, looking up into Daniel's very worried face. "Jack?"

Jack tried to slow his racing heart with deep breaths, and raised a hand to rub his head where an intense headache was rising. "What the hell was that? What's wrong with me?"

"I know what it was," Daniel answered, unexpectedly. "It looked just the same as when Sam -- Doctor Carter -- had that, um, attack of entropic cascade failure in the infirmary."

"Really?" Jack looked up at him, with a curious frown, and waved his hand. "Was it freaky? Sort of glowy?"

Daniel nodded. His eyes looked dark and very worried in the dim lighting. "Jack, you must have a double here. I'm going to go get Sam and Teal'c -- be right back." He started off, and then paused at the door. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Go," Jack waved him off. When Daniel was out the door, Jack let out a groan and struggled to sit up. He rubbed his face.

Wasn't this peachy. He remembered all too well what the Carters had said back then. The Carter who didn't belong would have died if she didn't get back to her reality. Which was bad news for him, since he currently had no way to get out of this reality. No working Stargate, no trips to the planet with the quantum mirror, no spaceship...

Maybe a Goa'uld. And didn't it suck that he really needed to find a Goa'uld?


continued next week in Chapter 8!

We hope you're enjoying the story so far.