Chapter 11: And the Winner is . . .
Sam O'Neill's sphere drifted in cloudy view, as her mind reeled with the idea that Jack had successfully severed the snake's head, and left the body to die, nevertheless she still had the means to stop further damage.
In this moment, she had to push Landry's possible death aside, had to take the lead and get to her husband as soon as possible.
She slammed the button next to the lab's door.
It slid open with a whoosh, and then she ran down the corridor towards the secondary armoury, grabbing a P-90, vest, Zat gun, and radio upon arrival. The elevator was the next target on her list and she quickly sprinted in its direction.
"Major Phelps, please respond." Sam released the talk button before trying again. "Major Phelps this is Colonel Carter, please respond." She cursed under her breath as the line distorted.
She knew all military forces focussed on Level 27, where the explosion had occurred, whereas the Self-Destruct room on Level 28 caused the civilians to evacuate the base. The only way she could keep track of events was via the monitoring station located on Level 16, the number she pressed on the panel after entering the elevator.
"Daniel. Teal'c. Please respond."
She crossed her fingers, hoping they would have secured radios of their own, but none complied.
"SG teams one and two, this is Colonel Carter. If you are listening, General O'Neill is a threat. I repeat: General O'Neill is a threat. Apprehend as soon as possible."
The elevator doors opened and she darted for the intended room, when Sheppard's voice came through on the radio.
"Sierra Golf Niner, this is Colonel Sheppard."
Sam stagnated before the door.
"Sheppard, ah thank goodness." She replied relieved as she entered the room and found Major Phelps unconscious on the floor.
Ostensibly, the General had stunned the poor man. Then she noticed the two Airmen tied up and stashed beside the monitoring station. They too, were down for the count.
"I hope you have a SITREP for me." She inquired, severing their restraints, and then gazed at the dozen screens showing footage of the twenty-eight levels situated within the facility.
"The operations room's systems blew up, specific trigger charge; fortunately no one was caught in the explosion, and according to Walter the Self-Destruct never initiated, just its bells and whistles."
"What about General Landry?"
"His office sustained no damage. He's okay, just ticked off that we caught on too late."
She let out a sigh of relief and replied, "I know how he feels. What about the rest of our people?"
"Mitchell's still at the alpha site with Colonel Reynolds and SG3. Daniel and Teal'c were in the Mess last time I saw them and McKay's with me. He's pretty mad about the inflicted damage, ranting that the dialling device has seen better days."
A breath caught in her throat, the footage suddenly a distant objective.
"On no, don't tell me."
"I'm afraid so Colonel, blown to smithereens." There was a pause on the line before he asked wary. "Sam, what's going on? Why is the General doing this?"
Her heart ached with the questions, yet quickly disregarded the nostalgia. Her eyes combed over the monitors in search of her husband, and then they halted. She had found him, running for the power vault on Level 8.
"Colonel, can you meet me on Level 8?"
"That's a negative. According to McKay, levels until 16 are inaccessible. He's struggling to lift the lockdown, seeing as General O'Neill had managed to alter the codes. I can ask Rodney to. . ."
"Negative, I need McKay to stay put. In the meantime, see what you can do to speed up the reverse process, and find out what has happened to Teal'c and Daniel. Carter out."
"Affirmative, Colonel. Good luck, Sheppard out."
Static noise faded to the background, leaving her alone in the pursuit.
If the vault was the General's next target, the SGC would be vulnerable – no power meant they were incapable of restoring the systems, and with no dialling device, teams were stranded off-world without prior knowledge of the Base's current situation. It would take weeks for their battle cruisers to zip through the Milky Way in aid of them all.
One alternative remained, and that was to use extreme measures. She had to prevent the General from destroying something she vowed to protect at all costs, even if it meant that she forfeit her life.
Power Vault, Level 8
The lock fell to the ground with a thud from where the bolt cutters had severed its link. Jack noted the caution sign attached to the wire-enforced gate, pulled it towards him, and entered, goal set on disabling the main circuit breaker. If he succeeded, the SGC would be defenceless, and the tablet concealed in his combat vest, would send his pending message.
The padded floor-coverings squeaked faintly underneath his boots as they navigated through the vault, while his eyes glimpsed the green lights flickering above the numerous switches attached to their circuit breakers.
He positioned C-4 with its timers behind the different casings, placing twice as much behind the chief breaker, and once satisfied with the explosives' flickering red lights, vacated the vault.
Five minutes . . . then boom. Goodbye primary power, goodbye exploring the rest of the universe and goodbye to years of grief you caused . . .
"That's far enough!"
Colonel Carter's command shattered through his musing, and he stagnated in the corridor, hands in surrender as she aimed the P-90 at his forehead. His brow furrowed somewhat, confused as to how she had managed to locate him, even with the obstacles placed in his wake.
Jack considered his options.
Ten metres away, the passage behind him ended in a dead-end, and before him, was his wife, partially hidden by the adjacent corridor's wall, twenty metres away. Cornered like a rat, the only way forward unfortunately, was through the one who currently held the advantage.
Not to mention that in four minutes, those options would cease to be, since the explosives would leave them either with fatal injuries, or worse, annihilate them both from existence.
The latter was not part of his objective.
"You shouldn't be here." He said slightly nervous, yet he remained resolute.
She snorted at the statement, adjusting her shoulder against the corner, as to position the rifle in clear view of her assailant, and sarcastically replied.
"Ironic, I was just about to say the same thing."
His arms fell from their propped position, holstering the Zat gun on the way down. They dangled at his thighs as he displayed a calm veneer, but inside he was screaming bloody murder.
"How did you find me? I made sure . . ."
"You forgot that I'm an astrophysicist. Solving problems is part of the job description."
"Were, Sam." He exclaimed in anger. "You're not anymore."
She scowled bemused. "Were? Last time I checked, I was still breathing. Something you will be short on if you don't cooperate."
The snarling threat mirrored how she felt, but Jack ignored it, observing her hold as it tightened around the rifle's grip, forefinger suspended before its trigger. The safety had disengaged the moment she positioned him in the weapon's crosshairs, while her heartbeat had slowed enough to prevent it from shaking.
An unexpected memory flashed before him, an image similar to her stance. He quickly blinked it away, occupying his mind with the countdown ten metres away. The longer they conversed the less time they had of surviving. He had no choice but to inform her of his motive.
"Sam, listen."
"No!" The word exploded in such cold anger that Jack's calm posture turned defensive. "You're done talking."
She gestured at the Berretta buried in his belt, and then at the holstered Zat gun. "Drop your weapons."
"You have to get out of here!" He growled in retort. "You weren't part of the plan."
"What?" Confusion lined her expression.
Her husband's replies made less sense with each passing second, and for the first time, she glimpsed the contesting emotions on his face. That same look of grief she questioned a few days ago shone in his eyes.
"I won't say it again, General. Drop your weapons or I will shoot you."
"Is that what you really want, Sam?" He stepped forward, calling her bluff. "If that's what it takes for you to leave, then go ahead. Shoot me!"
There was a desperate plea in his voice, begging her to end his life.
She allowed him to continue a few more steps, before she moved from her spot towards the oncoming corridor. She knew that it was a vulnerable position, yet somehow she ignored this detail.
"What are you waiting for?" He asked conceited. "Doesn't military protocol state, that if your perpetrator is uncooperative, you use force to subdue him? Now shoot me!"
Jack threatened shrewdly, as he closed the gap between them. Sam backed up slightly, stunned by his gruff approach, and once her back hit the wall, she finally realized that if she disobeyed orders, she would be a deserter just like her husband was.
Why am I hesitating? She thought. The military's my life . . . but so was this man across from me.
He halted, seeing the sadness lining her countenance, the tears welling in her eyes as she closed them for a split second, shoving all thoughts aside, and then opened her eyelids, pulling the trigger.
Several bullets pierced the air; however, the dull sound of brass hitting flesh was uncannily quiet, and soon replaced by the soft sound of concrete torn asunder.
He had managed to escape the onslaught, and in mere seconds, had progressed forward thrusting the weapon upwards and away from her grip.
The rifle slithered through the air, dropped with a metal clang, and she felt the effects of the Zat move through her body paralysing muscles and tendons.
Jack hoisted her into a fireman's carry, darted for the elevator located at the end of the corridor, nerves fraught with concern, and once within reach, it refused to open. In anticipation, Sam had initiated a safety protocol trapping them on the level.
They had nowhere to go and no place to hide.
He muttered a curse under his breath as he leaned her limp form against the wall, and sprinted for the corner. There was no time to reverse the process; the C-4 would blow in less than a minute and he had no means to protect them against the blast.
"Dammit Samantha!"
He turned towards the elevator, wishing he could kick it into gear, and then his eyes drifted down to her inert figure.
"You're such a smart ass, you know that? A stickler for the damn rules. Can you, just for once, be less of a perfectionist?"
Spittle flew with the shout, his face red with anger as he darted towards her position, enveloping her form like a shell a turtle's body.
"I didn't risk my future so that I could lose you for a second time, Sam." Jack confessed kissing her forehead gently as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I hope you can forgive me."
He tightened his hold waiting in anticipation, until a loud boom reverberated in the walls, and concrete shards splintered around them, a cloud of grey dust and falling debris following in its wake.
Jack felt pin-like throbbing cascade over his body for a brief moment, and then his world darkened.
Somewhere in the devastation, the hidden tablet squawked softly, signalling that the recipient had received the untraceable message along with its attached files.
It simply read. "Target disabled.
Initiate Operation Star Discovery.
General Petro Kuznetsov."
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
