The attack came in the middle of the night. Pete had no chance to defend himself as a black hood was thrown over his head and his hands were roughly bound behind his back. His years of being a cop and dealing with unexpected situations was the only reason he didn't freak out or whimper.
Two sets of hands hauled him upward as his assailants spoke a language he didn't understand. Pete hesitated at first; the attack was early by about a day, but he decided to play along.
"Get your hands off of me!" He heard Sam order, followed by sharp sound of something hitting human flesh. She emitted an unladylike grunt, then went silent. Pete smiled under the darkened hood; served her right for forcing him into this situation.
He knew whoever was attacking them wouldn't hurt her; he was very specific about that stipulation during the negotiation. While he wanted her roughed up, maybe even slightly injured, he insisted that the worst of it would be stopped—by him. Pete wanted to be her rescuer, her savior. She'd have no choice except to forgive him if he saved her life. Of course if O'Neill and the others didn't make it out alive, that'd be okay too.
"Hey!" He protested as there was a sharp shove to his shoulder, causing him to stumble. Manhandling him wasn't part of the plan! Gripping his hands behind him, he rubbed the skin between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the tracker that had been implanted deep into his skin.
It had taken him some fancy footwork to get word to The Trust about the unexpected off-world travel. He didn't know who they'd sent after them, but was assured it was a trustworthy Goa'uld. So far, Pete couldn't figure out why Sam hated them so much. The snakes, as she called them, seemed like typical criminals. As long as he stayed one step ahead, it'd all be fine.
"Cree!" A deep male voice screamed next to his ear. He'd only ever met one Goa'uld, but they'd shared the same creepy deep tone that he'd just heard.
"Back off alien assholes!" He barked, thinking he might as well pretend to be the brave one, in case anyone was watching. He hadn't heard 'Sam's guys' fight back yet. Maybe they were already dead. That'd make things interesting.
A strange noise caught his attention a moment before electricity shot through his body. Well that's not part of the plan, he thought, as the world faded away.
OoooOoooOoooO
"You enjoyed that a little too much," Jack quirked an eyebrow at Teal'c who holstered his zat.
"I do not know what you mean," Teal'c said with a sparkle in his eyes.
"Sure you don't," Jack rolled his eyes as he went over to see how Daniel was doing. He walked up just in time to see the archeologist climb back onto his feet.
"Remind me never to piss you off for real," he told Sam as he rubbed his shoulder.
"I'm sorry Daniel," Sam sounded contrite. "You were the one who insisted we make it sound real."
"Shake it off, Danny," Jack clapped him on the back, making the man wince. "She went easy on you."
"Do you think he bought it?" Mark asked from the sidelines. "He seemed awfully calm for someone who was being attacked."
"Unless he was expecting it," Jacob said as he reassumed control of his body. "Mark has a point. I expected him to fight more."
"Carter," Jack ordered, "go ahead and scan him."
Sam carried a small black box over to the unconscious Pete and slowly passed it over his body. When it beeped rapidly, she rolled him onto his back. "He's got some sort of implant in his hand," she pointed to the fleshy spot between his thumb and fingers and handed the scanner to her dad.
"Son of a bitch," Jacob growled right before his eyes flashed gold. "It appears to be a Goa'uld tracking chip," Selmac finished telling them. "Old technology, but effective at relaying specific locations across vast distances."
"Any idea which Goa'uld it belongs to?" Daniel asked hopefully.
"No," Selmac answered before Jacob re-emerged and handed the scanner back to Sam.
"Uh fellas," she drew their attention. "According to this, the tracker is still operational. The zat blast didn't short it out like we expected. Someone is receiving our exact coordinates as we speak."
"So Pete Shanahan was transmitting our location; therefore he was likely expecting some type of attack," Teal'c inferred.
"Looks that way," Jack agreed. "We better move." He and Teal'c hauled Pete upward and followed the others toward the gate.
"Where should we go?" Daniel asked once they reached the DHD.
"They'll be able to track us wherever we go," Sam said gravely. "We might get a one day reprieve depending on who is tracking our movements."
"Can we cut the tracker out of his hand?" Mark asked, but cringed at the implication.
"Goa'uld tracking tech is fairly invasive," Jacob told his son. "We need to render it inoperable instead, but I don't have the necessary supplies here. I don't want to risk taking him to a Tok'ra base and revealing its location."
"So what do we do?" Mark looked between them frantically.
"We need to go somewhere that the Goa'uld won't be a threat to the people. The Asgard?" Sam asked.
"They are still recovering from the Replicator attack," Daniel told them. "I doubt they have the resources to spare. The surviving Tollen owe us a favor."
"Not gonna happen," Jack sighed. "They barely have enough to rebuild their civilization. Plus they're too damned stubborn and arrogant."
"The free Jaffa would help," Teal'c offered.
"They probably don't have access to the technology we need," Jacob said.
"What about the Nox?" Sam provided after some thought. "Lya has always helped us before. At the very least she should be able to cloak us until we come up with a better idea."
"Good enough for me," Jack said. "Daniel, dial it up. We're headed to P3X-774."
