A/N: Okay, this went faster than I thought but I guess it's because exams are about to beging this week and procrastination and I are really good friends right now. So that and pingulotta's friendly help made it possible that I can give you this chapter today. Also, thanks a lot to my reviewers, Nausicaa2301 and xSuperNovax! It's so great that there are still people sticking with this story and I just hope the drive right now lasts at least until I have finished this :) (won't be the last story yet, though, don't worry).
Eleven
DeLisle
Usually, I'm not given to fatalism but right now, it looks as if it can't get much worse.
Two hours ago, we traded our cozy cave for a hole in the ground even further up because Noruega said she'd picked up a warning from one of her potential buyers that we were being surrounded and the net is getting tighter with every minute. We'd broken up camp immediately, staying only as long as it took us to cover our tracks – except the construction of sticks and small rocks that the Major should be able to read that I left – and getting the hell out of Dodge.
As it is, Noruega'd been right because the helicopter still circling the air above our heads might look like it was State Forest Service but we both know that it's probably a state of the art piece of surveillance air craft, with infrared cameras, sonar, night sight cameras, the whole nine yards.
We've been fucking sitting ducks for almost two hours now, lying in our foxhole, covered with a reflection blanket and a heap of dead wood, leaves, soil, everything we could find. The worst thing about being stuck here and having a helo circling above our heads is that the rotor blade's thwap thwap sound makes it nearly impossible to detect dog handlers and foot patrols early enough to have at least a microscopically small chance to get out of this alive.
Okay, so maybe I would, seeing as that helo and those people on foot are most likely my former employers and current guys holding my leash but then again… I never held many illusions about the CIA and I hold even less now.
So I draw on any SERE lesson I ever had – or gave – and make myself lie completely still, slow down my breathing rate, concentrate on the senses not obstructed by either visual or noise blockade and keep wondering why the hell my team is taking so much time. Noruega is lying next to me and in the half dark beneath our cover, I can see her grin, saying very loud even without words "Just like old times, ain't it?" and I can't help it. The sudden urge to strangle her nearly makes me lose my calm and just do it.
Since I know that she'd probably have dismembered and killed me in less than two seconds, though, I keep my hands to myself and forced myself to concentrate on keeping still again. I also get back into the "I hate her, I hate the former employers, I hate the SGC, I hate the Trust, I hate the fucking universe" litany I'd started just as soon as we'd skidded into the foxhole and started digging in and covering ourselves up. At least it keeps my breathing even.
That doesn't do anything against the footsteps now being close enough that I can actually hear them really clear above the thwap thwap. In fact… "Godammit." What… "We're here, you fuckers. Will you stop searching?"
What in God's and all the fucking saints' holy name is she doing? Did she just jump up and give our position away?
Shit.
Shitshitshit.
I can't believe what's happening here. My eyes see that she gave up our cover, my ears hear that she yelled at the dog handlers to come over here but my brain is wholly unable to compute what the fuck just happened.
Until she says, "I got him, just as you wanted. Now come and take him off my hands."
Because there's no mistaking there that she just betrayed me to the people that she was so afraid of that she told me to shoot her should she ever fall into their hands. For a moment, a tiny little moment I'm tempted to actually do her the favor and shoot her in the back but then I remember that my days of shooting people in the back were over long ago. In fact, they were over as soon as I left the CIA.
Just like our little hiking trip, apparently. Because really, nothing says "the party is over" like a six foot three guy towering over you and his enormous Alsatian reeking of wet dog breathing down your neck. Okay, that and that said six foot three guy yanks you up and nearly pulls your arm out of its socket. Seriously, I'm getting too old for this shit.
But since there's nothing I can do right now, I opt to conserve energy and led doggie guy drag me over to the helo that apparently found a place just wide and flat enough to land a few yards away from us. When we reach it, another guy – short, wiry, probably harder to knock down than doggie guy – clips hand cuffs around my wrists in front of my body and pushes me into the helo that takes off immediately, after all of us have climbed in.
Well. I guess now's a good time for the last resort. Furtively, I reach into my right sleeve and press against the chip glued to my wrist. Which just shows how desperate I am all of a sudden.
Reece
This kind of reminds me that after that brainwashing mission that shall never be named again Laura and I made a resolution to turn me into a real the Springs local. Part of that was hiking the surrounding mountains on our spare days; no boys, no mobile phones, just as. We'd planned to take starting with Fox Run and then working our way up to the big ones. I've been in the Springs for almost a year now. And all we've managed until now is teaching me how to put a "the" before Springs when shortening the city's name.
So, hey, great that I get to see a bit of scenery now, huh? A bit of hiking, shooting the breeze… and carrying semi-automatic side arms and an assault rifle along. Not like that's so unusual the parts around here, but I think it's not usual to snoop through the underbrush trying to find two AWOL soldiers that at some point have both been CIA.
What's also not usual is the pace the Major set. He's always been a brisk walker but I guess something in his subconscious – or Laura – usually tells him that not everyone has his two sticks of really long legs and he measures his pace. Today, though, nothing but sprinting and jogging is good enough for him. Good for me that I've been steadily upping my mileage on the tread mill and with Laura.
I'm still ridiculously relieved every time he pauses for reading another hint Dee left behind.
Or, for the peasants like me how he stares into the shrubbery, kneels down and counts some tree needles before he gets up and says, "This way." I'm fairly certain that half the time he's making things up or at least pretends that three needles definitely there and a pine cone here make another hint. Then again, he and Dee have been on the same team for ages. Maybe they learned how to read the other's thoughts at some point. Wouldn't surprise me, after almost a year at the SGC.
I am, however, still not beyond honest surprise when we reach hut at some miles up that has a short red rope with an interesting pattern of knots tied into it hanging from a twig from the shrub next to it that not even I could miss. Judging from what Dee once taught me about leaving a trail worthy of Hansel and Gretel, he wanted to tell us that where he and Noruega went next. Wonder what made him go so obvious… "Huh."
"Lieutenant." Damn, did I say that out loud? I hate it when that happened.
Trying not to look to cowering – and sound too much out of breath, mind you – I turn to the Major. "Helicopter blades, sir. Am I the only one hearing them?"
I sure as hell can't be because they're steadily becoming louder, definitely coming into our direction. But Laura and the Major just look at me with incomprehension. "Are you sure, Maureen? Because I don't.."
"Sht. I hear them, too." There's a weird look from Laura telling me that she's finding something too weird for words and frankly, I don't think I want to know what that is. "Shit. They're coming closer. Into the hut." What? Why is he… "Move it, you two."
Oh, okay, alright. We shuffle into the hut as fast as we can and now I can see that Laura definitely must have heard the helo, too. The Major gestures for us to stay down below the height of the windows and sneaks close to one of them, looking down the mountain. The thwap thwap is still coming closer, now nearly above us… and then becoming lower again. Huh… oh, right, they're drifting away from us.
Laura looks at me, probably to inquire if I can see whether there are any markings on the helo's side but… "State Forest Service, my fucking ass. If that isn't an active duty combat pilot flying that chopper, I'll eat my fucking rifle." Right, so the Major saw markings. And I'm sure he was exaggerating. No one could know that kind of thing. Not even him. Right?
Right. But then again… he is the Major, isn't he?
"Alright, I guess that means we'll have to stay under the radar now. I'd say that…" Huh? What was that beeping sound? Oh. Oh Jesus, I can't believe the Major actually brought his stupid BlackBerry. As if he had any reception… "Text from Dee."
Seriously?
"Err, Tom, could you please be a little more specific?" That, too.
"Err, Laura, could you please give me a minute to actually read this?" Really? A bickering fest right here during a rescue mission? Are you fucking kidding me?
Thank God Laura at least leaves it at making a face at him and getting back to guarding the hut's entrance while the Major frowns at his phone's screen and then mutters something like, "Well, fuck me."
That was… very conclusive and the look Laura throws tells me she just had the same thought. I'm pretty sure he saw that exchange and it wouldn't have surprised me in the slightest if he'd just gone into sulking mood but apparently, team leader mode – even after everything still my favorite mode, did I ever say that before? – is still strong enough to override it. "It's not a text. It's a transmitter signal. For some reason he managed to ping me when that helo flew by and now that thing is sending regular updates with coordinates." He looks up from his screen, looking… bewildered? I don't think I ever saw him look like that and it's kind of disconcerting how cute… "This is slightly scary, actually."
Well. I'm really not sure if a snort is the right answer to this, Laura. The Major seems to think so, too because he throws her one of his practiced dark looks. Someone seriously needs to tell him that most of the time, they look ridiculous. But then again, the times they look really, really scary and not really like him are those you really don't want be around him. Or anywhere in his vicinity for a radius of about ten miles. Anyway… "It's not like we didn't know he had some hidden depths, you know."
Well, yes, but couldn't we please… "I just can't believe he managed to tap into my phone with that transmitter. Sneaky bastard."
Aaan here we go again. "Honestly, Tom, that was just so…"
"I think it was a compliment, Laura." Oops. It wasn't supposed to actually come out loud but I guess that right now I'm just so fucking fed up with the Major being all amazed at something he should well have known by now, seeing as he's known Dee for Heaven knows how long and Laura getting all protective of Dee in front the Major that I don't care about keeping my trap shut anymore.
Which is why I'm pretty much rendered speechless when the Major only replies quietly, "Correct, Lieutenant."
There's a moment of silence and then Laura expresses exactly how I feel right now, "Wow. You two agreeing with each other twice in one conversation. Now I'm scared."
Really, exactly what I just thought, right down to "Now I'm scared," because honestly, me agreeing with the Major… I'm not sure if this has happened more than three or so times altogether in my time with SG10 up to now. I really don't know what to make of it and… "Alright, if you're both over your bewilderment about something as insignificant as that, I'd like to get the fuck out of here again." Yeah, well… "I think I know where the helo's headed and we need to get back to the car and drive as close as we can to there ASAP." Mhm, yes… "Godammit, girls, move it."
Not sure how often he's going to say this in the course of this mission at any unwarranted point he can find but I'll be nice to him just this once and chalk it up to actually liking Dee and probably freaking out over what might be going to happen to him because he probably knows full well what people like those who just kidnapped our resident NCO are capable of.
I just hope he didn't hear Laura just mutter, "To the Bat Mobile, then!" as we start running down the mountain back to the piece of junk the Major just called a car. Sadly, I don't think he'd find it as hilarious as she probably does right now.
