"Who else is here?!" demanded Sydyk from the seat next to him, eyes blazing angrily.

"I don't know, so shut up!" Methos snapped, trying to identify the source of the Buzz.

There.

Across the intersection, facing the opposite direction, a black SUV with federal government plates.

"It must be that shol'va Teal'c! Their pet Jaffa is the only one to live on this wretched planet," Sydyk declared, before glaring in confusion. "No. He has no symbiote now. It cannot be him. Tok'ra! They have fetched one of the vile Tok'ra here!"

Methos could not see into the vehicle; the light was against him. Whoever was in the government SUV was definitely Immortal, not Goa'uld or Tok'ra (whatever that was), though for some reason Sydyk didn't seem to be able to sense the difference between them. A question definitely left for later.

He didn't have time for this. And he most certainly wasn't in the position to fight off a head-hunter and keep a handle on Sydyk at the same time. It occurred to him, furthermore, that there was a better than even chance that whoever was here might well be after the same thing Amanda had been: Sydyk's head.

The light turned green.

As the two cars passed each other in the intersection, Methos glanced at the driver of the SUV out of the corner of his eye, reading to hit the gas if necessary.

He didn't immediately recognize the other Immortal; the Immortal was dressed like any government stooge, his suit and tie complemented with a sword-concealing trench coat (which was doubtless just as warm in this weather as Methos's coat). Short dark hair framed level brows, and a chiseled chin. Whoever he was, though, he didn't seem interested in Methos and Amanda, because he spared them just a brief look himself before continuing on wherever he was intent on going.

The dismissal wasn't exactly a relief. Colorado Springs was quickly becoming Immortal Central, thanks to the very public brutality of Sydyk's crime. Methos silently cursed Sydyk for showing up here when he did. He had no desire to deal with a string of headhunting Immortals who were eager either for justice or an obvious Quickening; when they discovered that they were cheated of their prey, they very well might decide to take the head of any old Immortal they came across.

One day. One more day! And Methos would have been out of this city and shaking the dust from his feet.

Meanwhile, Amanda's face had taken on a puzzled expression.

"Why did he not attempt to stop us?" Sydyk asked in confusion. "He knew we were here and did nothing."

"Maybe he had more important things on his mind," Methos replied. "Like you should. Do you honestly believe that Daniel Jackson and his friends will just let you leave this city?"

"They do not know I have taken this body as a host," the Goa'uld sneered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I think you are in greater danger than I am, miserable worm."

"Ah, but they think I'm dead. They don't even know to look for me," Methos pointed out. It was true, too. After a fashion. In any event, he couldn't wait to kill this snake, because it was downright annoying. And even a bit whiny, now that he thought about it. Were all Goa'uld like this, or was Sydyk just special?

"One day, I will take my revenge on Daniel Jackson and this entire pathetic planet." Sydyk settled back in the seat sullenly.

"Fine. But that day is not going to be today, so just shut up and let me drive!"

As Colonel Dixon spoke with the Colorado Springs police officers, Airman McCaffrey surreptitiously used his lifesigns detector to see if any of them were hiding a snakey little secret.

To judge by the expression on McCaffrey's face, the search for Sydyk wasn't going well. He gave Daniel a subtle shake of his head as he slipped the small device back into his vest.

On the one hand, it was good that some innocent cop hadn't been taken by a Goa'uld. On the other, it meant that Sydyk could be anywhere – and anyone – by now, leaving them right back where they were when this whole mess started, with a dangerous and utterly ruthless Goa'uld on the loose. At least they knew he was out there, which was something. It was possible, too, that they might be able to learn something useful from Sydyk's lackeys… when they woke up, that is.

Even Kinsey may have something to say, as well, once he was in a condition to speak. Whether it would be useful or not? That was the real question. The man was an utter bastard before being taken by a Goa'uld, and it remained to be seen whether his years of utter helplessness in his own body had changed him.

"Hey, Doc," Colonel Dixon waved Daniel over. He was looming over the nervous young police officer, Ayres, who had been the first to arrive at the scene. "Tell the good doc what you told me, kid."

Ayres swallowed, obviously wishing he were anywhere but here at the moment. "Um. When I uh, first arrived at the scene, two subjects came from next door and told me that they'd heard fighting and that someone might be hurt."

Daniel's eyebrows shot up. This was definitely something. "Wait, you saw two people? Together? And they came from the house next to this one?"

"Yes, sir," the officer replied, his eyes darting back and forth between Daniel and the colonel. "A male and a female, both white and late twenties to early thirties, maybe."

Colonel Dixon snorted derisively. "I've been over here a few times. Couple that lives in that house? Both in their 70s. They're probably at their Jazzercize class right now."

Daniel crossed his arms, frowning slightly in thought. "Anything else you can tell us about these people?" he asked.

"Uh, the male subject was about six foot, dark brown hair. Female was pretty tall, maybe five-ten, also dark brown hair, cut short. Seemed upset about something. It was weird, too…"

"Don't stop now, Ayres, you're on a roll." Dixon, unsurprisingly, was not taking the loss of Sydyk very well. Definitely a good thing that Wells had been sent back to the SGC with the prisoners that had been so thoroughly duct-taped up like so many drunken college frat boys.

"They were both wearing coats. Like, long coats. It didn't occur to me at the time, but it's a little bit warm for that. My dash cam may have caught them…" He gestured apologetically towards the camera mounted inside his vehicle.

"Let's see the video, then," Dixon grunted.

The officer sat down in the driver's seat of his police cruiser and pulled over a laptop computer that was mounted between the front seats. He tapped away at the keyboard for a few seconds before the video appeared. Ayres clicked back a few more times and pressed the play button.

On the screen, the video showed the view from the cruiser as it approached the house.

"There." Daniel stabbed towards the very corner of the screen, where for a brief moment two indistinct, blurry figures were visible coming out of the side yard before the cruiser's movement left them out of the frame of view.

There was something said faintly, too distantly to be picked up by the audio. Then, more clearly: "...might be hurt!"

Daniel frowned intently, though the two people never stepped into full view of the camera.

"Okay, I'm gonna have to ask you two to stay well back, for your safety, until we check things out," Ayres said on the recording.

"Don't worry, Officer, we won't get in your way," the mystery voice replied. The voice was male, the accent fairly-generic midwestern American, but there was just something about it...

Daniel had a strange feeling that he'd heard that voice before. Somewhere. "I'd like a copy of this, Officer," he said distractedly.

"Sure thing, sir. Just let me clear it with my sergeant…"

"You still here, Ayres?" Colonel Dixon demanded impatiently. The young officer all but scampered away. "You got something, Doc?"

"I don't know. The voice sounds familiar. Maybe I'm imagining it." Daniel wracked his brain. There was something about that voice!

"Well, you better make sure, Doc, 'cause we need to find these two pronto."