Chapter 10: Let the Games Begin
Landry's Office – Sixty Minutes Later
"I understand by your expression that the President confirmed my position as your superior."
"Yes." Landry replied, eyes revealing the doubt he still had about the man's credibility, but he could not argue with orders.
"The President was crystal clear, Sir."
"Then you know what happens next." O'Neill's eyebrow lifted with the question, hiding a mischievous glint in his eyes.
The two star General reluctantly nodded his confirmation.
"Protocol states that I have to step in line following your orders, as per instruction without hesitation."
"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."
"However . . ."
General O'Neill's confident demeanour faltered slightly. He was so sure this man would submit like an obedient dog, though he could not argue with someone who has had charge of the Base these last four years. He had the right to question a superior's motive, especially one who was termed as a traitor a few hours ago.
Hank Landry continued, "It's in my best interest that you be accompanied at all times, for the sake of policy as well as safety. I wouldn't want the President discharging me 'cause I neglected to protect you from danger." He paused fleetingly, O'Neill merely nodding in understanding. "This is a secure facility of course, but accidents do happen . . . I hope you understand my candour."
The Major General marked the expression lining the man's facial features. It reflected a hint of wryness concealed with a slight sternness, whereas his voice conveyed an undertone of a warning.
"I do, Hank, very clearly. I would expect nothing less from such an astute man like yourself. However, keep in mind who and what I am. You did accuse me of betraying my country, and in my opinion, that of course, is something you should reimburse . . ." Landry squirmed in his chair, triggering a sneer on the General's lips. ". . . for instance, I want a proper tour of this facility, while you arrange a thorough update of SG1 and 2's investigation, as per instruction of George Hammond and the President. I need to know all before we move forward."
"That's a tall order, Sir." He retorted slightly taken aback by the forthright approach.
"I am the President's liaison, have been since achieving General status, and as I stated before, Hank, I expect nothing less. Do what you can; I know its short notice."
The Major General turned in his seat, eyeing the two Airmen on duty outside Landry's office.
"These men will do." He declared.
Glancing over his shoulder, he observed how Hank's shoulders stooped in defeat. A smile lingered as he said, "Don't worry, Hank, your position is not up for review."
He stood from his seated position, the two star General following suit, and once their eyes met, he added, "Nor is your decision to arrest me wrong in any way. Following orders is the lifeline of the Air Force, especially if you don't have the whole picture in view."
He extended his hand, which Hank gripped in reluctance.
"No harm no foul."
"No harm no foul." Landry repeated as he released O'Neill's hand and gestured for the Airmen to enter the office.
"General O'Neill has requested that you escort him through the Base."
The soldiers gazed at the General noting the two stars on his olive BDU, curtly nodding their confirmation.
"Begin with the Gate room and end on Level 16. Is this to your satisfaction General O'Neill?" Landry asked of Jack, who nodded in lieu of a verbal reply. "Once you've completed the tour, the briefing room will be the next destination, where SG1 and 2 will apprise you of their portion of the investigation."
"Thank you, General Landry." O'Neill replied politely, eyes regarding the man's rigid posture and unsatisfied expression lining his countenance.
He turned towards the soldiers bidding them to lead the way, and trailed behind with a slight jolt in his step, thinking, keep up with your guarded behaviour Hank. Pay no mind to your superior, the threat's still out there and might be closer than you think. Remember, eyes wide open.
Astrophysics Lab – Sixty Minutes Ago
"Shit! He knew all along." Sam called out in anger. "He lied to me."
Papers flew through the air as folders tumbled down from the toppling bookcase, which crashed to the floor with a cracking noise, and soon thereafter, a high pitch sound boomed in the lab, Sam slamming her fists against the table's surface.
They may have settled their differences back in the room, but there was no way it justified their pretence, and no apology could dissolve years of duplicity.
Nor did the act of planting a seed of attack vindicate her in any way.
A deep moan escaped her lips as the memory flashed again; she could feel the deceit burning within, his wry smile as he agreed with her, his affectionate expression afterwards, all, as if everything was well.
"Dammit! Why couldn't we have had a normal marriage like those perfect couples on TV? Like that ever exists in the real world, Sam. What did you expect would happen in the pretty world you painted for yourself? And, it's not like Jack's an open book. It's the life you chose, the life he chose. Lying is only an additive."
Heat spanned over her back, curling down her form as she snarled in anger. Her fists collided with the table once more.
"It was okay to be the only one hiding a secret, but now . . ."
Our team followed you around Jack, how did we fail to recognize we were tailing our superior, the Major General of Homeworld Security. You avoided leaking this to any outside source. Strictly professional, by the book military operation, showing that you worked for the Pentagon since assigned there.
You went to other planets behind our backs, for crying out loud, pretending to be General Willis and brokered deals where we failed to do so.
"Perceptive little . . . since when do you follow orders Jack?" She spat his name like it was filth before continuing, "He has dealt the cards, Sam. Pick one and run with it."
She paused inhaling a deep breath soothing her tensed muscles, calming the storm within, and then allowed the breath to slip through her lips, but her mind keep up with the analytical feat.
"Jack is the world's foremost intelligence officer, and combined with his knowledge of the universe, Russia or any other country would gain no opportunity at a foothold. The Stargate will forever remain America's best kept secret."
All to protect us from outside parties seeking to unite earth under an international oversight advisory, a council who would be in control of Stargate Command's fate when the military screwed up. Self-seeking politicians deciding who climbed up the ladder, or faded away in a pile of paperwork, snakes choosing which country received advanced technology or not.
With my husband as commanding officer, the military remains in charge, and corrupt government officials wouldn't sink their teeth into the funds it generates every year to keep the 'Gate running.
Why keep this from your wife? Why would you not look attractive to the world's power hungry dictators? Why would you not have the weight of the world on your shoulders when you walked in to your home after a hard day's deception?
"Millions of people are oblivious to the sacrifices each man and woman makes to keep this country safe. Keep our planet safe from further destruction. And you are a part of it all, Sam."
She let out a long sigh, suddenly drained by the self-debate, fighting convictions and analysis' only to justify the love for her husband.
My main problem is: can I continue trusting him? What more is he hiding? Could he be a traitor? He must have slipped up somewhere. Or have I been blind all along?
Seven days prior to General O'Neill's Arrest
"You look different."
"I am?" Jack questioned with a bemused expression.
He remained in the doorframe, his form alight by the sunlight outside, and as he stepped forward, I saw his countenance as soft and alluring as ever. This in Jack O'Neill's terms was a means to show he was indeed the same person.
Words were never his strong suit.
"You are." I declared with brow still furrowed.
I continued to study his demeanour; he was as good-looking as the first day we met, and I yielded reflecting my appreciation with a shy grin. Holy Hannah, I was a lucky woman.
"It's this damn cover again." He replied as he placed it on the coat stand. "Couldn't wait to get rid of the darn thing."
His hair stood upright like a porcupine's and he smoothed it bit as he closed the front door behind him, and faced me again.
"No, I don't think it's the cover." I shook my head slightly.
A long pause arose between us as we gazed at one another.
I noticed a leather wristband barely peeking underneath the hem of his sleeve, and glimpsed its green emerald glow in the sunlight. It was a new accessory, maybe a gift from a travelling employee.
Gifts like these were normal in his line of profession, and it's not like I haven't received plenty from friends off-world.
I liked the addition and lifted my eyes to examine his face.
His expression was soft, but I could see the difference in his eyes. They were sad, as if they had seen, no, correction, they had suffered loss. There was something else, the scar over his left eyebrow was suddenly noticeable, and his hair greyer than before. His whole countenance had aged in mere months.
In some way, this enticed me like a moth to a flame, and as if caught red-handed, he drew my attention away from his face by gesturing at his attire.
"It's the dress blues, always has been an abhorrence." His lips quirked shrewdly.
"Never had a problem with those." I playfully teased.
"I know."
He muttered the words under his breath, the sly smile deepening on his expression. My legs felt like buckling as he closed the gap between us, and aware of my frozen posture, he curled his arms around my waist.
"Maybe it's because I forgot this . . ."
Jack captured my lips with his, deepening the kiss with each passing second. I responded in kind, as he absorbed my presence like a sponge, desperate to clench his thirst. And it is not that I minded the heartfelt welcoming, but my analytical mind lingered on the fact that something was different.
It could be his work. Hours spent analysing data collected by analysts was a task he loathed since becoming a Major General. He still longed for the days he spent in the field, infiltrating corrupt government organisations and identifying rogue agents both here and abroad.
Jack O'Neill never enjoyed being the man in charge, and it seemed as if retirement was closer than once believed.
Our lips parted, both desperate for breath, and then he coaxed my lips tenderly before stopping altogether. His forehead lingered on mine soaking silently in my presence once more.
"I really missed you, Sam." He confessed affectionately.
I could both feel and hear the yearning love in his voice as it resonated in my chest. It surprised me and fared well to silence my doubt that he had changed in such a short time, though, there was one thing that still lingered in the recesses of my mind; the sense of fear that my husband somehow knew who I truly was.
I pushed it aside as I captured his lips, whispering in between pauses, "That's good to know."
Perhaps my need for perfection drew unnecessary attention to his conduct. It's been twelve years, years I spent in deception justified by a good notion. Why would he be suspicious of me? Everyone around him managed to keep up with the game, so much so, that he was convinced all was well . . . however.
I could not shake the feeling that Jack knew exactly who and what I was, that he knew I was deceiving him, that the Pentagon had labelled him untrustworthy and thus waited for him to slip up.
Jonathan Jack O'Neill was the best asset they ever produced; they couldn't terminate him just yet, they would be snuffing valuable Intel, and as long as this charade continued, I had to endure with the decision I had made.
It was my life after all.
Annoying Klaxons drew Sam to the present, mind confused as to why the Self- Destruct had initiated unexpectedly, and by the third Klaxon, General Hammond's contradictory order finally made sense.
He had kept her husband away from the SGC and withheld classified information in regards to her team, for the very reason that the most damage could take place underneath Cheyenne Mountain. They were the essence, the lifeblood of Homeworld, and now it was under attack.
Jack had lied all along; it had been a ploy to infiltrate the facility.
The phone suddenly blared in the background and Sam quickly grabbed its headset.
"Colonel Carter the Self . . ." General Landry began, but she interrupted with a curt question, "Where's General O'Neill?"
"He asked for a . . ."
"The Self-Destruct is a diversion. We need to find him before he causes more damage."
"What? How?"
She imagined the wheels turning in the General's mind, but there was no time to explain. Russia was right on the money, and whether it was in their best interest to save the SGC or not, Jack had always been a spy.
"Please, Sir . . ." A loud explosion echoed over the phone interrupting her plea, and suddenly the line went dead.
She gasped, thinking, my hesitation has placed innocent lives in jeopardy; people I respect and work with . . .
General Landry's gone.
"Jack's a cold-blooded murderer."