Chapter Twenty-One

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Mitchell could hear voices in the distance. A man and a woman shouting out. He couldn't make out what they were yelling. Probably chasing down a lost dog but they could still be his ticket out of here. He started rattling the handcuff against the metal pipe and shouting out for attention, but his voice was failing him now. He didn't know how long Amelia had been gone. A couple of hours he guessed. He stopped and listened. A third voice had joined in now. Surely three people wouldn't be out searching for a dog. As he listened more closely he was almost certain he could hear his own name. He cried out again. When he listened this time, the voices were definitely closer, and they were calling for him. Sam, Teal'c and possibly Davis. Taking a deep breath, he called out as loudly as he could, banging his feet on the floor. He could see a shadow moving beneath the door.

"Colonel Mitchell, are you in there?" Davis asked through the wood.

"Where the hell have you been?" Mitchell growled in reply.

"Keep back from the door, Cam," Sam said. The next second, a gunshot rang out and the door swung open.

"What happened, sir?" Davis asked.

Mitchell couldn't help the pang of jealousy he felt or the sliver of ice in his voice when he answered. "What does it look like?"

"What were you doing here?" Sam asked.

Davis found himself waiting for the answer, holding his breath.

"She asked me to come. Told me she needed to explain…" He closed his eyes for a second.

"Are you going to be okay?" Sam said as grabbed a key from the wooden bench and unlocked the cuffs. Mitchell rubbed his wrist.

"Sure. How did you find me?"

Davis cleared his throat. "Doctor Hendrik sent an email to Colonel Carter."

"We have to go after her," Mitchell said, pulling himself to his feet with the help of the pipe he'd been handcuffed to. "She's NID...or Trust or whatever the hell they're calling themselves now."

"No, she's not," Davis snapped back.

"She told me everything, Major. I get that you think you've got something going on with her..."

"No, sir, I don't but frankly it's irrelevant." Davis interrupted, fighting to control his rising temper. "She was protecting you."

"What?"

"She tried to get out years ago. They've been using you against her all these years. Her husband was killed on Ba'al's instruction, but they'd fabricated enough evidence to implicate you. If she didn't keep in line, you'd be arrested for Joe Rosado's murder. She's been protecting you. Trying to get caught because she believed the only way left to her was to be captured and imprisoned. She left a report where I could find it knowing I'd search and hoping I'd go to Landry. She's been doing this for you." The words were bitter in his mouth. "She still is."

Mitchell looked from Davis to Sam who simply shrugged.

"Where is Doctor Hendrik now?" Teal'c asked.

"She's gone after Ba'al…Adam Hines…he is Ba'al…or at least she thinks he…Look, it's complicated but that's where she's gone," Mitchell explained.

Sam and Davis exchanged glances.

"I've not lost my mind!" Mitchell yelled.

"We'll need a helicopter, fast," Davis said. "We have to bring her in."

"This is a bit out of your area of expertise, Major. I suggest you go back to the SGC and let Landry know what's going on. We can handle the rest," Mitchell replied making no attempt to disguise his annoyance.

Sam sighed. "Can we dial back the testosterone and just get after her? She's got a pretty good head start."

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Adam Hines' office was large and modern. The only solid walls were internal. The exterior walls were glass from floor to ceiling allowing panoramic views of the city. The furniture, by comparison, was largely antique. In the centre of the room was a large mahogany desk on which was a framed picture of a smiling blonde woman and a young child. The bookcases along the interior walls were of the same wood and filled with ancient-looking leather-bound books with gold leaf lettering. The chair on which Adam sat and admired the view was a well-padded black leather reproduction. He didn't turn at the loud rap on the door. He was expecting his visitor. Even as she entered, flanked by a security officer, he didn't move. He simply dismissed the guard with a wave of his hand.

Amelia remained silent, her eyes darting around the office. Aside from the door, she had entered by, she knew that there was another, concealed, in the far wall. She just needed to speak with him long enough to convince him that she had changed her mind and then, when he was relaxed, she would strike. She wasn't going to get the chance.

Adam stood and walked around the desk until he was toe to toe with her, an iniquitous smile on his lips. He gently slipped his hands along her waist, pulling her towards him. Amelia's heart pounded in her chest and bile rose in her throat as his lips drew nearer to her own.

"You weren't this reluctant with my previous host," he smirked. She felt him slip his fingers into the waistband of her jeans and pull out the small metal vial. He stepped back and held it up. She sighed, her eyes closed and her shoulders slumping.

"Sit," he said, pushing her so that she lost her balance and slammed down into the chair behind her. She pulled herself straight as Adam returned to the opposite side of the desk and placed the little bottle onto the surface.

"You are him, aren't you?" she said at last.

"Who?" he replied, the picture of innocence. He took his seat, but his eyes never left hers.

"You're Ba'al. You're a…" She swallowed. "You're a Goa'uld."

"Very astute. What gave me away?" he asked, trying to appear disappointed that she had seen through him.

"Oh God," she whimpered, revulsion washing over her. "I can't believe…"

"You weren't complaining at the time, as I recall," he replied, reaping immense satisfaction as he watched her squirm. "You were planning to kill me with symbiote poison," he said, picking up the vial and turning it around in his fingers.

"Yes," she replied bluntly.

"You understand how this works? Adam Hines will die with me."

"Yes, but then what's left of Adam Hines? What's left for Adam? His son died. I'm taking a bet that you've killed Beth." Her eye caught the photograph on the table and a lump rose in her throat. Until she said the words it hadn't seemed real. Her friend Beth, dead.

"She would have made an excellent queen, but she was so…resistant. She had to go," Ba'al said in such a matter-of-fact way that Amelia was about ready to kill him with her bare hands.

"How long have you…infested Adam?"

"Infested?" Ba'al frowned. "I owned this body before the Tok'ra made such a display of extracting the symbiote from…twenty-seven." He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass of the photograph on the desk and shook his head. "Sadly, this host doesn't have the…physical qualities of the last. I know you think so, too." His gaze cruised her figure and she unconsciously pulled her jacket closer around her body.

"Twenty-seven?"

"I think it was twenty-seven. I can't be sure. There were so many clones that even I lost count in the end."

"But you're the original?"

"Hiding in plain sight all this time. Quietly going about Adam Hines business, using his memories. He wasn't as resistant to the idea as you might imagine, though."

"He would never have willingly allowed you to take his body."

"Adam Hines had a degenerative disease. Why do you think he was so keen to work with the Trust? He hoped that some alien technology would allow him to live. He kept it a secret, but he jumped at the chance of a cure. I cured him."

"He couldn't have known…"

Ba'al inclined his head and shrugged. "I perhaps wasn't as clear about the arrangements as I could have been," he laughed.

"Why try to convince me that Beth was still alive. The cookies…that was just sick."

"Appearances. It's what she would have done." He leaned forward on the desk and smiled. "Now, it will do nothing for my reputation if this gets out but…I baked them myself. Turns out Adam Hines was quite the genius in the kitchen."

Amelia's mouth dropped open and she stared at him for a moment, her expression blank. "You really are completely crazy, aren't you?" she replied, pushing her chair back from the desk a little.

"Perhaps." He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "So, now I suppose I must decide what to do with you."

"I'm not afraid of you. I came here fully expecting to die."

"That would be too easy."

"What were you planning to do with the serum the Zertanians were producing?"

Adam smiled, ignoring her question. "What do you know about the Goa'uld and its relationship with the host?"

"Enough to know I'd rather die than be infested by a parasite like you," Amelia replied through clenched teeth, her fingers balling into fists. He stood and made his way over to a large mahogany cupboard, turning the key and opening the door. Inside was a clear jar containing a cloudy liquid and a snake-like creature. Amelia felt the beads of perspiration forming on her brow as he withdrew the jar from the cupboard and placed it on the desk, her eyes widening.

"You are not an unattractive woman, strong, perhaps a little too willful, but that can be altered…and I am in need of a queen."

The intercom buzzed, visibly startling Amelia.

"Yes," Ba'al answered impatiently.

"Sorry to disturb you, Sir, but I thought you'd want to know. A helicopter has just landed on the helipad on the roof. The guard recognised Colonel Mitchell. It's SG1," the crackly voice advised.

Amelia felt her hopes soar and relief wash over her. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Ba'al rolled his eyes but didn't answer the guard. He pulled out a pistol from a holster concealed beneath his jacket and pointed it directly at Amelia's head.

"It seems you made an impression on Colonel Mitchell…again! You really do have a weakness for a man in uniform, don't you?" Ba'al smirked.

"Rather an unconventional choice of weapon for a Goa'uld," she quipped despite her growing trepidation. Ba'al gave her a sarcastic grin.

"Appearances are everything. Move!" he demanded, grabbing the glass container from the desk.

Amelia pulled herself to her feet and walked in the direction Ba'al indicated, towards the secondary door. Behind it was what, at first glance, appeared to be a small room. Another man, a weapon in his hand, grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. Ba'al followed, pressing a button to the right of the doorway and Amelia's stomach lurched as the private lift descended.

They stepped out of the elevator and into the relative darkness of the basement. A chill breeze whipped through and made Amelia shiver. Three large SUV's waited in line, motors running. The doors of the central vehicle stood open. Amelia wondered if the driver was a Goa'uld too. Her eyes darted around, looking for an escape but Ba'al had read her thoughts. He took hold of her arm and pressed the cold metal barrel of his weapon against her temple.

"I have plans for you, Doctor Hendrik, and your escaping is not part of them." He forcibly pushed her into the car and slammed the door. She immediately grabbed the interior handle, pulling frantically at it. Ba'al slipped in through the other door and shook his head. "Do you really think I'm that stupid. You should also know that this vehicle is armoured, the tyres are 'run-flat' and the glass is bulletproof. Your friends aren't rescuing you."

"Where are you taking me?" she asked.

"That is irrelevant." He pulled an atomiser from his pocket and sprayed it directly into her face. She choked as she breathed in the fine mist.

"What the hell..?" she spluttered, wiping her face.

"Nishta," he said. "A little crude but until I have perfected the biological weapon that you were good enough to provide, nishta will be good enough. It will make you compliant. Within the hour it will have spread through every cell in your body and you will do anything I ask of you, including killing your Tau'ri friends. And then, Astarte will live again…in you."

"NEVER," she yelled.

The SUV jerked forwards, creeping towards the shuttered exit.

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Major Paul Davis shoved the three security men into the room and instructed them to lay face down on the floor with their hands behind their backs. He quickly flexi-cuffed their wrists. Carter pointed her Berretta at the young secretary who was frozen with fear in her chair, tears cascading from her heavily made-up eyes and her mascara running down her cheeks, leaving dark brown tracks.

"That'd be Hines' office, right," Mitchell said, trying the handle of the only other door.

The girl nodded her head. "I don't have a key," she said in a high-pitched panicked voice.

"Don't need one," Mitchell replied. He kicked the door of the office and it flew open, fracturing the wood of the frame.

Pointing his weapon directly in front of him he scanned the room. The door to the lift stood open. Mitchell stared down into the shaft. There was nowhere for anyone to hide. The office was empty.

"It's clear!" Mitchell yelled from inside the office. "They've gone. We've lost them." Mitchell sounded defeated.

"Maybe not! Look!" Sam cried, grabbing his sleeve and pointing out of the window. "That's just come from the basement of this building."

A motorcade of black SUV's was making its way at some speed up the road outside the building. Mitchell ran.

"How am I supposed to explain this to Mr Hines?" the secretary sobbed.

Davis paused for a moment and smiled. "I don't think he'll be back any time soon."

Mitchell took the stairs to the helipad two at a time, the others struggling to keep up. He wasn't prepared to wait and was already instructing the pilot to go as the others climbed on board.

"You're not on some personal mission of revenge, Cam," Carter said as she settled herself into her seat. Mitchell didn't look at her, his lips a thin line of determination.

"Don't lose them," he yelled to the pilot through the mic on his headset.

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