What A Tangled Web We Weave…
"All right, gentlemen," Hammond announced, entering the briefing room at 0900 the next morning. He waved his subordinates back into their seats before taking his usual seat at the head of the table. Opening the folder waiting at his place, he noted how disappointingly thin the file was and asked, "What do we know?"
Looking up expectantly, his eyes wandered over the other people gathered around the table. Jack and Daniel both looked utterly exhausted, dark shadows under their eyes and deep creases lining their faces. Neither man had slept last night, that much Hammond knew without being told. Turning his gaze on the other SG-1 member present, he noted that although Teal'c looked better rested than his teammates, he too had had a rough night and was obviously just as worried as the other two were.
A quick glance to his left was all it took for Hammond to note that Frank Simmons was the most alert, relaxed person in the room. He was calmly sipping from his styrofoam Starbucks cup as if he didn't have a care in the world, looking rather bored.
"Not much new to report, sir," Jack sighed, tilting back in his chair as he spoke. "Frasier got the test results back off the syringe the forensics team found. It tested positive for Carter's blood and thyroid-pitch-a-tent…"
"Thiopental," Daniel corrected patiently, the barest hint of a smile ghosting over his features.
"Yeah, that," Jack agreed, flicking his hand vaguely in Daniel's direction.
"Janet said it's a fast-acting sedative," Daniel supplied, picking up where the older man had left off. "The right dosage would have knocked Sam out right away."
"Also, Denver PD found the car early this morning; forensics confirmed Carter had been in it."
"How can they be sure?" Hammond asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"They found a couple strands of blonde hair and a small smear of blood, both on the passenger seat," Daniel pitched in, tired fingers rubbing over bleary eyes as his sluggish brain dredged up the details. "We ran our own DNA tests and they confirm that both are from Sam."
"The hair could be planted, but the blood would be too difficult to get right. It's authentic," Simmons stated confidently, never faltering in the rhythm his bored fingers drummed out on the tabletop.
"You'd know all about planting evidence, wouldn't you, Simmons?" Jack asked rhetorically, shooting an icy glare across the table.
"That's enough, Colonel," Hammond interrupted before the briefing could degenerate into little more than a venue for sniping and barb trading.
"The only flight leaving from the airstrip where the car was found filed a flight plan routing to a remote strip 100 miles outside of Juneau," Jack stated tightly, visibly struggling to reign in his anger. His fingers were slowly turning white as they tightened their grip on the arm of the chair; Hammond was pretty sure that if Jack let go now, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from reaching across the table and throttling Simmons.
"I've already spoken with Colonel Reynolds," Hammond interjected, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "He's taking a six man team to investigate; they should arrive just before noon our time."
"Who has made the journey with Colonel Reynolds?" Teal'c inquired, tilting his head as he regarded the general curiously. Despite the casual way the question had been asked, Hammond knew it was a loaded one.
"Major Griff, Captains Shaye and Marsden, Lieutenant Riley and Sergeant Siler," he replied, looking pointedly at the three men to his right.
The response was met with nods of approval from the male members of SG-1; all six men he'd named had been with the SGC for years and could be trusted completely. Even though no one in the briefing room really expected to find anything useful in Alaska, so long as there was even a remote chance of finding another clue to Sam's whereabouts, they all wanted their own people on it.
"That's about it on our end, sir," Jack wrapped up, clearly frustrated with how little progress they had made in almost 24 hours.
"I see," Hammond replied, feeling his own spirits sink a little lower. "There's nothing new on this end, except…" he gestured at Teal'c, giving the other man the opportunity to fill his teammates in on their latest idea.
"Doctor Frasier suggested that your government's Food and Drug Administration might provide us with useful information on Major Carter's whereabouts," Teal'c informed them all, grateful to be able to contribute something beyond bad news and more bad news. "At the president's request, this branch of your government will begin closely monitoring all prescriptions filed for the antibiotic amoxicillin. We will be immediately informed of any suspicious prescriptions that are filled."
"Amoxicillin is what they'd give Carter for the pneumonia?" Jack clarified, making sure he was following Janet's train of thought. He figured it was a long shot – antibiotics were prescribed often enough, after all – but they were grasping at straws right now, and anything that could point them in the right direction would be very welcome.
"It is," Teal'c replied, inclining his head in his friend's direction.
"Doesn't that violate just about every federal privacy law in existence?" Daniel asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern.
"Not when those laws have been temporarily suspended by a quietly signed executive order," Simmons replied, a knowing smile giving them all the impression that he had some experience in getting presidential authorization to circumvent federal law.
"Anything else, people?" Hammond asked, ignoring the dark looks passing between his second-in-command and the NID agent.
"No sir, not at the moment," Daniel sighed, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.
"Then I suggest you three," Hammond nodded at his people, "Go get some rest. There's nothing else we can do right now and I want you all in top form when we locate Major Carter."
All three men were prepared to protest until he gave them a look that brokered no room for argument. Each and every one had ignored that look on numerous occasions in the past, debating and sometimes flat out arguing against whatever decision Hammond had just made, but apparently Simmons' presence had put the remaining members of SG-1 on their best behavior. With nothing more than three short nods, they acquiesced, got to their feet and shuffled tiredly out of the room.
"I'm meeting one of my contacts this afternoon," Simmons informed Hammond, waiting until the men of SG-1 were out of earshot. "He's a… Well, let's just say he specializes in making paperwork about certain types of flights disappear. I'll let you know if I learn anything useful," he concluded, backing out of the briefing room.
"You do that," Hammond replied, watching him go. He'd be the first to admit that he didn't trust Frank Simmons even half as far as he could throw him, but if there was any chance the man could help them find Sam, however remote, Hammond wanted him on board.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Hammond made his way into his office for a few hours of paperwork. Bureaucracy didn't shut down just because one of his officers was missing, even though most of his brain did.
A/N: I'm Canadian, so I have no idea what the legal ins and outs of executive orders are, and Google and Wikipedia can only take me so far. Forgive me if I totally screwed up in this chapter; everything I know about the functioning of the American government, I learned from watching 'The West Wing'. : )