Author's Note: We're on the home stretch, folks! I think two more chapters to wrap up the main part of the story, then a couple of epilogues.


Two hours later, Carter approached Jack. "I've got everything I need, sir," she informed him.

"You're positive?" He didn't like to show any sort of doubt in her abilities, but there was no way they could leave the gliders in the forest for the North Koreans or their allies to find.

"Positive sir," Carter said, using her voice of infinite patience. Jack ignored it and motioned for Teal'c to join him. Standing up, the pair of them headed for the downed ships. Panels were missing near the cockpits and along the wings where Carter and Daniel had extracted pieces that the former might need, so the things looked about two steps away from the junkyard anyway. That makes this easier, Jack thought. He placed himself in front of one of the ships and waited until Teal'c had taken up a similar position in front of the other. "On three," Jack told his friend. "One." Jack armed his zat. "Two." He brought the zat up in a two-handed grip, aimed at the ship. "Three." Jack pressed the firing stud on his zat once, twice, three times. The alien vessel glowed as blue lightning danced along its surface, and disappeared. Jack blinked, fighting back a smile; that never got old!

Teal'c came up beside him. "Good job, T."

"Thank you O'Neill."

"Carter! Daniel! Let's pack it up and head back to the camp."


Sherman Potter had been staring at the same report for a good fifteen minutes before he realized that he'd not taken in any of it. Sighing, he shut the folder. "Well Mildred," he addressed the portrait of his wife, "I guess I'll say goodnight." He kissed his fingers and placed them gently on the photo's cheek before slowly rising from his chair. "Klinger," he told his clerk, who was bent over the latest requisition forms, "I'm going to hit the sack."

"Okay sir. Goodnight."

"Goodnight son." Sherman had pushed open the door when he thought of something. "Has there been any word from General O'Neill?"

Klinger looked up from his paperwork. "Not that I've heard, sir."

Sherman nodded. "Well, let me know the moment you do."

"Sure thing, sir." Klinger smiled. "Hey, they've survived stuff like this before, right?"

Sherman couldn't help but smile at the corporal's hopefulness. "I guess you're right," he replied. "Goodnight Klinger," he said again, exiting the office. The younger man's "Goodnight sir" was cut off by the door swinging shut, and Sherman suddenly found himself faced with nothing more than the music of the crickets as he began to walk towards his tent. He was being stupid, he told himself as he tucked his hands into the pockets on his lab coat. Like Klinger had said, and like Jack himself had admitted, these four were no strangers to combat, especially with aliens. And it wasn't as if they came from his chain of command. After all, Sherman suspected that, in the time they were from, he was long gone. That thought didn't disturb him in the least; he knew he was no spring chicken, and the thought of living another fifty years was wishful thinking.

And yet, they'd somehow become a part of the little family here at the 4077th. Rizzo had already informed Sherman that Lt. Col. Carter had assisted him in making some much-needed repairs to that crappy generator of theirs, and in the process made it work better than it ever had. Murray (or was it Teal'c? Teal'c certainly sounded more alien) had assisted with patching the roof of the Post Op building at one point, and Jackson had made friends with just about everyone in the camp. For the most part, Jack had stayed in the background, but Sherman knew that that was due to his trying to not step on the local CO's toes. But anytime wounded were brought in, no matter what they were doing, these four time-travelers jumped in to transport folks to and from the OR and Post Op, move supplies, and help with other small jobs. Jackson had even acted as translator when a family of wounded Koreans had been brought in. Was it any wonder Sherman was worried about them?

Lost in his own thoughts, Sherman had almost made it to the door of his tent when he heard one of the guards call out "Halt!" The exclamation brought Sherman's eyes up from his feet as he turned towards the sound. He felt a surge of relief at the sight in front of him: Jack and his team, having been recognized by the guard, walking through the camp towards the VIP tent.

"Sherman!" Jack called out, spotting the other man.

"I take it things worked out," Sherman replied, meeting the others halfway.

"Yes sir," Carter responded. Her eyes were shining, and Sherman noticed that both she and Jackson were weighed down by bulging backpacks. Parts to fix their ship, he supposed.

"Glad to hear it," he told her. "See you all for breakfast?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Jack assured him. With that, the young general lead his team back to their temporary quarters.

Sherman smiled and headed for his own tent, suddenly tired. He was looking forward to hearing about their adventures the next day.