Daniel watched through the window overlooking the Gateroom as the Tok'ra vanished through the Gate and a SecFor airman escorted Hebron out.
"Either of you have anything to add to the discussion?" General Landry asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee.
"With respect to Agent Bates," Daniel turned and nodded towards the glowering IOA agent, "Dr. Adams saved my life back on Revanna. I think that speaks to his character."
Bates snorted. "That was ten years ago, as far as he's concerned. Don't forget that he spent two of those years infested by a Goa'uld."
"Oh, yeah, I'd totally forgotten that," Daniel retorted with dry sarcasm.
"The point is that I don't think we should let a man we know practically nothing about just roam free!"
"I know nothing about you, and you roam free."
Landry held up a hand sharply to forestall any further argument. "Doctor Jackson, Agent Bates. That'll be enough."
"If it's Dr. Adams you wish to speak of, I believe I can shed some light on the subject, gentlemen," a voice interrupted from the doorway. Special Agent McCormick walked in, his own escort lurking in the background. "Special Agent McCormick, FBI, sir," he said, holding his hand out to Bates.
"Special Agent Bates, International Oversight Advisory Field Operations Division," Bates replied, startled enough to shake the proffered hand. "What is the FBI doing here?"
"It's quite a long story, sir, but suffice to say that my cult leader turned out to be your alien body-snatcher. General Landry, I heard what happened with Dr. Adams. It sounds quite bizarre, truth be told, but then again yesterday I would have thought the idea of travel to other worlds and alien invaders would have been the ravings of a madman. Who am I to judge what happens here?"
Landry smiled wearily. "You have something on Dr. Adams?"
"I do, sir. I've been doing a background check on him, and it seems that just before this all started he returned from some years overseas with Médecins Sans Frontières."
"Doctors Without Borders," Bates remarked with a frown.
"Just so, sir," McCormick affirmed. "He has never been in trouble with the law in this country, and not even so much as a traffic citation. His parents are both deceased, and he has no living relatives. There is something else: two of his friends are in town, looking for him."
If Bates had his way, Daniel thought, they'd be looking for Adams forever.
"How'd you find this out?" asked General Landry.
The FBI agent pulled out a phone in an evidence bag. "I found this phone and another I presume belonged to the late Amanda Darieux in the pocket of the coat recovered with the two swords. When I turned the phone on to check its call log, I discovered several missed calls from a couple different numbers. Both numbers have Washington State area codes, but both are now here in Colorado Springs."
"How do you know they're his friends?" Daniel inquired curiously.
"In part because I recognize one of the numbers. He was a witness in one of my cases some years back. He owns a dojo in the Seacouver area. He's a good man, stubborn, and a damned good friend. And Duncan MacLeod wouldn't traipse halfway across the country for anything less than a close friend or a mortal enemy."
"Tell me you didn't call him back and say anything," Bates groaned accusingly.
McCormick rewarded the IOA agent with a withering look. "I am aware that we just met, sir, so I will overlook that statement as ignorance. I know how delicate the situation is, Agent Bates."
Something pinged in Daniel's memory.
"Duncan MacLeod, he wouldn't happen to moonlight as an antiques dealer, would he?" he asked. An antiques dealer with similar unusual Ancient DNA to Adam Pierson (and, by extension, Benjamin Adams).
McCormick blinked in surprise for a moment. "He's fairly well-known in the field, yes. How is it you know him, Dr. Jackson?"
"We found traces of his blood on the sword we confiscated from Adam Pierson when we first, ah, met. The broadsword," explained Daniel. "The one that Dr. Adams used to… behead Sydyk. Amanda said that it was hers."
"She lied," McCormick replied promptly. "I'm fairly certain that the sword belonged to Dr. Adams, purchased as a gift for his more history-minded new-found twin brother. I would imagine that the late Miss Darieux, whatever her relationship with the equally-late Mr. Pierson, took advantage of the situation of his death to acquire a very valuable artifact either to sell on or to add to her own personal collection."
Daniel winced. If Jack found out about this (and he would, given that he was in charge of everything that went on around here), he'd never let Daniel hear the end of it.
"I'd like to take both swords with me as evidence, for the moment, at least," the FBI agent continued. "And I'd like to thank you once again, General Landry, for turning over Amanda Darieux's body to me. It's being transferred as we speak. Hopefully, the FBI will be able to locate some of her nest egg now. I'd also like to take the swords with me as evidence, if you have no objection."
"Doctor Jackson?" Landry glanced towards Daniel expectantly.
"Well, as far as I can tell, they have no off-world significance, other than being used to decapitate a Goa'uld." Daniel winced at the memory even as he spoke. Who do you think you are? Death... "So however much I'd love to keep them for myself, I have no objection."
"I will treat them well, Dr. Jackson, have no fear," McCormick nodded. "I am something of an aficionado of medieval weaponry."
"Back to the matter at hand: Benjamin Adams," Agent Bates reminded them. "We still can't just let him go. Even if you decide to trust him, the man's still suffering from amnesia. How are you planning on explaining that to these friends who've shown up to look for him?"
"Did his brother not just die in a car accident? Is it not plausible that Dr. Adams could have suffered a head injury in the same accident?" the FBI agent suggested.
"He doesn't have a head wound!" Bates objected.
"Slap a bandage on his head, they're not likely to pull it off to check," Daniel pointed out. "If Hebron - Adams, I mean - if he understands the deal, it shouldn't be too hard to pull off. Look, we meet the friends in a neutral location, explain the amnesia, they can help him try to recover his memory. You can supervise," Daniel nodded at Bates, "If you don't think we can handle it."
Methos lay on the bed, his eyes closed as he tried to distract himself with all the recipes he knew for potatoes (which were quite a few), but his thoughts kept drifting back to his current situation.
It was so strange, being back. Even more so because now every corridor felt familiar to him. He knew that there was a lavatory just down the corridor, the mess hall was located on Level 22, and the main armoury on Level 28 (along with the Stargate itself). The man standing guard outside the door of his quarters was named Ziplinski, but most everyone called him Zip, except for his wife ("Terry") and his mother ("Terrence").
Normally, the memories from other Immortals weren't nearly so clear or distinct. The knowledge gained from a Quickening was generally much more amorphous. He hadn't really noticed it much before now. It possibly had something to do with the absolutely screwed up way things had happened back on Revanna, with the Sydyk and the Stargate and everything, but he'd probably never be sure. By contrast, that worm Tanith's personal memories were broken and scattered, fleeting dreamlike snatches.
Ever since Methos had regained his own memories back on Memphis, he'd been working on a way to get back home. Even before that, he'd been trying to figure out where home was. Now that he was back, though, he felt strangely disconnected and adrift.
This is home, he told himself firmly. You just need to get out of this benighted mountain. Have a beer and forget all about the Stargate, Daniel Jackson, and the Goa'uld.
Finally, finally, after he'd lost all track of time in this windowless underground, there was a knock at the door.
"Come in," Methos said, controlling the sudden rush of hope. The door opened to admit Daniel Jackson, who offered him a tentative smile.
"Hello, Hebron," the archeologist greeted him.
"You should probably call me Ben. It's my name, and I have to get used to it again," Methos replied. "I'm guessing you bring news?"
"Good guess," Daniel replied wryly. "Yeah. General Landry still has to consult with General O'Neill in Washington, but he's tentatively in favor of allowing you to stay."
"Despite Agent Bates's concerns?" Methos's heart leaped within his chest, and he inhaled sharply despite himself.
"We managed to work something out. Tell me, do the names Duncan MacLeod and Joe Dawson sound familiar at all?"
Inwardly, Methos wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Oh, yeah, he was definitely home.
