Not Quite the Lord of the Rings, Chapter 29
Under Duress
Tuck was by no means a religious man, but he found himself muttering half-remembered prayers under his breath while he was driving. Sweat was beading on his forehead and running down like tears, stinging in the cuts on his face. His shirt had adhered to his back and he felt as if he was sitting in a warm puddle. The hellion female was right beside him, watching his every move with eyes that seemed to look through him. He was convinced that she could, actually see through him, or at least could read his thoughts somehow.
He chanced a glance in her direction. She sat sideways in the seat, focused entirely on his movements. She seemed to be completely relaxed… unconcerned, calm; impartial. Except for her eyes. Her eyes were all attention and alertness.
His one attempt to escape had been thwarted; he had actually jumped out of the vehicle before they had reached the highway—but she had pounced on him and brought him down in the dirt before he'd made it more than four feet. Then she's stood on the back of his neck, while he lay panting in the dust, and scratched in the dirt with the point of a sword that looked sharp enough to whittle steel. He didn't know what she was writing… but he got the message.
She'd let him up after that. She never said a word to him; he knew what she wanted. He was well-paid to risk injury and imprisonment, but no amount of money made it worth being skinned alive. Besides—he was supposed to bring her there, wasn't he? That had been the job…
So he drove, but the cold custard of cowardice that was filling his belly galvanized him to look for chances to turn-over the situation. He considered wrecking the van—but he suspected that he would do more damage to him than to her. He might stall, drive in circles, or even go to a place where he could lose her—a crowded public place where she couldn't kick his ass without drawing a lot of attention. But he didn't want to be arrested, either. He needed a crowd of the right kind of people…people on his side. He could figure out no other option than to take her to the rendezvous and hope that he could find back-up there.
She was still staring at him, and it was giving Tuck the creeps. He began to heartily wish she'd just let him go—that she'd jump out of the van herself—or simply disappear. He dashed bloody sweat from his eyes as he steered through traffic.
He furtively cast his eyes sideways toward her again—and jumped as if given an electric shock: She was gone!
A part of him knew it was impossible for her to have gotten out so suddenly—but that part of his brain was seriously in the minority. A wave of relief and adrenaline that swept him; he felt that he'd somehow dodged a bullet. The van lurched as he drove off the road and bounced along the curb; he wrenched the steering wheel to keep the van out of the ditch. Recovering, he stomped on the accelerator and left two streaks of black rubber smoking on the asphalt.
A highway patrolman noted the erratic behavior of the vehicle, but as he wasn't breaking any speeding laws and had seemed to recover control, he didn't pull him over.
He did, however, report a description of the driver and truck, license plate, location, and direction.
"We've got a lead." Hammond's voice announced over the loudspeaker on Jack's cell phone. "A patrol car reported a suspicious vehicle on Overlook Road."
"We're not far from there, Sir."
Jack twisted the wheel, sending his truck into a 180. Teal'c leaned into the turn calmly, but gave O'Neill a glance of mild reproach.
Jack saw his expression. "Don't start with me, T… Ford doesn't install inertial dampeners in their half-ton pickups. Yet."
The eyebrow descended a fraction as Hammond spoke again, "Doctor Jackson is working on the writing you found. Major Carter is collaborating with her father on an alternative plan." Jack translated this as 'Carter and Jacob were trying to get a Tok'ra transport ship into the area'.
"That may be very useful, Sir. Have Daniel let me know as soon as he has something."
"We're trying to reestablish visual contact of the vehicle through the local police. Locate a Captain Vaughn at Ridge and Overlook Circle to coordinate our search. Our cover story is that the van the man stole has sensitive documents in it… the police have been instructed to observe but not to apprehend. We are authorized to act, but only in cooperation with the police."
"Yes, Sir."
"And Jack—?"
"You don't need to say it, Sir… I'm aware of the potential for a breach in our security. We'll try to keep the impact as small as possible, but the cops'll have questions… we might need to borrow Davis from the Pentagon to help smooth things over…"
"I'm ahead of you there, Colonel. Fortunately, Major Davis was in Nevada when I placed the call… he'll be here as fast as the Air Force can fly him. Good luck… or should I say… good hunting."
"Thank you, General."
"You people sure are going to a lot of trouble to find one man… makes me wonder just what he's got that you don't want anyone to see."
Jack O'Neill had been in the company of Police Captain Vaughn for perhaps five minutes… and it already seemed that the acquaintance was far too long. She was a tall, red-headed woman, built like a torpedo in more than a physical sense; when O'Neill and Teal'c had arrived at their meeting point, she'd homed in on Jack immediately, firing questions at him and managing to find a sexual subtext in everything he said. He despised her with a passion he usually reserved for the Goa'uld.
They'd gotten off on the wrong foot from the beginning, he supposed. He had made the mistake—a common but non-malicious assumption on his part, that the person he was supposed to meet—this Vaughn character—was a man. So when they'd arrived, Jack walked up to the first person he saw.
"Can you tell me where I can find Captain Vaughn?"
The person turned around; red hair spilled down her shoulders, framing an arctic complexion with large frost-grey eyes. The eyes looked him up and down frankly, leaving him with the urge to check to see if he'd forgotten to put on his pants. The lips— painted a lurid shade of red that, in his opinion, should be reserved for fire trucks and stop signs—curled up in an approving leer.
"Yeah, I can… and I can tell you where she'd like to be half an hour after she gets off work today, handsome."
"Excuse me?" Jack tried to keep the expression of distaste off his face… for diplomatic reasons, of course. He opted for obliviousness. "Captain Vaughn. I'm with the Air Force… Colonel—"
She interrupted him, openly disappointed. "Okay, okay… business first." She gave him an unrepentant smile then cast her gaze over Teal'c. "Hmmm… a two-for-one special. I should have joined the Air Force."
Jack turned his choke into a cough. "Can you give us a report on the vehicle, Ms. Vaughn?"
"Call me Tonya. I insist. Colonel—?"
"O'Neill."
She gave him another visceral smile. "Is that what your parents called you?"
"No," Jack snapped before he could stop himself, "but it'll do. Can we get on with this? This is a very sensitive situation…"
"Yes, yes… very well." Vaughn wiggled over toward the squad car and spoke to the officers inside. Making sure that Jack had a clear view of her backside, she thrust out her hip and called over her shoulder, "The van has been spotted near Industry Road. Why do you want this guy, really?"
Jack frowned at her. "There is sensitive material in the van he stole—"
"That's what we were told," she said cynically. She walked back to his side and leaned toward him, wafting a scented cloud of cinnamon-scented perfume, and whispered conspiratorially, "It comes out a little too easily… too well-rehearsed. What is it really? Weapons? Bio-chemical warfare? Radioactive material?" Her expression changed to a mockery of wide-eyed alarm as she suggested, "Terrorism? Come on…you can tell me."
Jack gave her a very cold smile. "Yes I could… but then I'd have to shoot you." Which is a rather appealing idea, he grumbled to himself.
He turned away, intending to get in his truck and get to Industry Road, but the cloud of cinnamon followed him. Jack stopped. "You're not going with us," he said bluntly.
"Yes I am, handsome, so get used to the idea." The vixen was about to climb into his truck. She turned and waved a radio at him, "Your General Hammond made it clear, did he not, that you're working with the police on this thing. This is our jurisdiction… you get to make the apprehension, but we are going to provide backup. The public must be protected."
"Well, you can protect the public from the back of the cab!" Jack snapped, jerking his thumb in a sharp gesture. Vaughn pouted, but obediently climbed in the rear of the cab.
"God help us," Jack mumbled, as he slid behind the wheel.
Teal'c—Bless him for breaking his warrior's silence, Jack thought—turned and said over his shoulder, "Please secure yourself, Captain Vaughn. The law does not require that rear passengers use seat-belts, but it is advisable when—" The rest of Teal'c words were lost in the roar of the truck's engine and the screaming protest of the tires as Jack pushed all his frustration into the gas pedal.
--tbc
