General Alan Hunt rarely served coffee. Not that he didn't drink it – he did and he liked it – but normally his subordinates served him, usually his aide de camp. When he was by himself he served himself, of course, but when he had visitors, he was usually the one being served, not doing the serving. Of course, when the President of the United States came to visit it tended to throw things a little off kilter.
Not that Jack O'Neill was a difficult guest – he wasn't. He and Hunt got along just fine – and Sam was as charming as ever. But Jack was worried, and Sam was distracted, and Hunt had sent his aide de camp off to get any new information they might have received – although he knew that nothing had been heard from Doctor McKay and O'Neill's friend Jim since the two of them had left to find Colonel Brooks two days before.
Which left Hunt to serve his guests their coffee, and do his best to soothe tattered nerves. Something he was pretty good at usually, but knew he wasn't helping much in this instance.
"There's no way they didn't arrive where they meant to go," he told the two of them as he brought them coffee, careful not to trip over Murray, who was sprawled on the floor of his office by his desk. "McKay's a genius – and has a well defined sense of self-preservation. He wouldn't have gone if he wasn't certain of the destination."
"They should have been back by now," Sam said, taking the cup from him with a forced smile of thanks. "Something must have happened…"
"We're not going after them," Jack told her. The way he said it made Hunt certain that they'd had the conversation several times in the last day or so. Sam probably wanted to lead the next group herself – it wouldn't have surprised him – and Jack would have vetoed the idea immediately. Of course, Sam was probably the most brilliant person on the planet with McKay and Ian out of the picture, so he could understand her desire to go.
But he could understand Jack's reasoning as well. The last thing they needed was to lose another group of people.
She tossed her husband an annoyed look.
"It wouldn't be that hard to follow them. The dialing computer in the control room would be able to tell me where they-"
"Sam." Jack's interruption was gentle, but there was also a note of command that he probably didn't even realize he was adding. "We can't follow them. They know what they're doing and we have to trust them to-"
An alarm suddenly blared through the office – and the entire complex.
"Incoming wormhole! General Hunt to the control room. Repeat, unscheduled activation! General Hunt, please report to the control room…"
Since Hunt was already on his feet, he was at the door before the intercom went silent. Jack and Sam were only a step behind him and right behind them scrambled one very confused young lab, who absolutely refused to let his Jack out of his sight.
OOOOOOOO
The control room was a whirlwind of activity, the gate room even more so.
"Shield up," Hunt ordered even as he entered the room.
"We can't get the shield to activate, sir," the technician monitoring the computer reported.
Sam tapped him on the shoulder and he got up to make room for her. She frowned immediately.
"The system is offline."
"The gate's working," Jack pointed out. In fact, it had already locked several chevrons – almost completing a dialing.
"The gate is a separate system from the shield," she told him without looking up. "Ian and Shawn did that to keep from accidentally-"
"Look alive down there," Hunt interrupted, speaking into a microphone to his security teams who were all gathering, bristling with weaponry. There was a white line on the concrete floor of the embarkation room, drawn there to give them security forces a reminder of where the shield ended and exactly how much room the Gateships needed. Both were necessary, since the last thing anyone wanted was for something odd to happen and to have the shield activate for some reason with someone straddling that line.
Because of that, it was automatic for the security forces to line up behind that line – which was also designed to allow for a partial crossfire in the event of a shield failure with unfriendlies incoming.
"Any signal?" Jack asked, looking over Sam's shoulder.
She shook her head without looking up, her fingers flying over the keys.
"I can't override whatever is happening. They're jamming the frequency of the shield."
The technician shook his head.
"They can't. It's a scrambled-"
Suddenly the gate flared and activated, drawing everyone's attention. Weapons came up, and the Secret Service, who had stayed out of the way up until then, were crowding very close to Jack and Sam.
"What-"
Before Hunt could finish his question, a Gateship suddenly emerged from the gate, startling most of the security team and causing a couple of them to jump back almost instinctively as it came to a sudden – and very abrupt – stop in the gate room.
"It's them!"
From the angle they had, there was no way they could miss the fact that it was Rodney and Ian in the front seats of the small space ship. Especially when Ian turned his head from his console to look their direction.
"Stargate command, this is Colonel Ian Brooks…" the gate shut down behind them as the small group in the control room let out a very audible sigh of relief. "Requesting a parking assignment topside."
Jack took the com before Hunt could reply.
"You can park that thing right there, Colonel. We'll be right there."
With that, he dropped the microphone and headed for the door, with Sam and the others close behind. By the time they reached the embarkation room the Gateship was powered down and the security teams were standing down. The back hatch opened, and Murray gave a happy bark as he recognized the people coming down the ramp.
"Ian!"
Dropping all the decorum that came with the title of First Lady, Sam rushed up to him and gave him hug, which he returned more than willingly. She staggered a little when he leaned against her, making her realize that he wasn't exactly at one hundred percent, but when she pulled away and automatically started looking for blood stains and broken bones, she couldn't find anything. He just looked tired.
"Hey, Sam."
"Where the hell have you been?" Jack asked, walking over to greet him as well.
Ian smiled.
"It's a long story, Jack. What are you doing here?"
"You're supposed to be bringing me a report, Colonel," Jack reminded him.
Oh yeah.
"We found him exactly where we calculated he'd be," Rodney said, smugly. "But we had a bit of a time getting out of there."
"Where did you get the Gateship?" Sam asked, curiously.
"Atlantis?" Jack guessed.
McKay and Ian both nodded.
"Long story, though."
"But interesting," Rodney told them. "The people in-"
"Ian, you need to call Cassie," Hunt interrupted. "She's been calling to check on our progress every four hours."
"And have Janet give you a quick check up," Sam added. "All of you."
They'd just returned from God only knew where, after all, and procedures were there for a reason.
McKay frowned, more excited about telling the story of the Ancients who hadn't abandoned Atlantis than getting a physical.
"But it's a really interesting story," he told her.
"And it'll wait a few more minutes," Jack said, backing Sam automatically.
McKay sighed.
"Fine."