Disclaimers in Prologue
Team One - Part Five
"Okay, I know what you want me to do, but why me?" protested Jack. "Why not Daniel or ... okay not Teal'c, but why not Daniel?"
"Because Daniel doesn't strike me as a very good liar," answered Quinn.
"Meaning, I am?"
Daniel looked at Jack and grinned and Carter was trying hard not to laugh. Teal'c also seemed to see the amusement, because a ghost of a smile lit up his face for a moment.
"Well you were in Special Forces, Sir," reminded Carter.
Jack turned on her. "That doesn't mean I lied Carter, it means I could get into someplace, shoot someone and they wouldn't know it until they didn't wake up in the morning."
"Yes, sir."
"Look, O'Neill. It isn't going to be difficult. I'd do it, but I don't think I have the right accessories," explained Quinn with a smile.
Jack turned his glare onto Quinn. "What about the signature? I developed my writing style purposefully so a person couldn't read it -- makes writing reports a lot easier."
Quinn had been carrying a white, plastic shopping bag when she came in and she now placed it on the table in front of her. She nudged it toward Jack.
Jack stared at the bag but didn't open it, so Daniel looked inside.
"Hey, this'll work." He started digging the contents out of the bag and putting them on the table: gauze, tape, rolled cotton, ace bandages, plaster of paris, and several newspapers.
"Oh, so I'm supposed to have a broken arm and can't write huh?"
"Have you ever tried to write legibly with a cast on your writing hand?" Quinn asked.
"Yes, and there's no difference."
Quinn shrugged. "After you just told us how you write, I'm not surprised."
Jack could see his arguments weren't going to get him anywhere so he gave in. "Alright, so who gets to play doctor?" he asked.
"To your nurse?" teased Quinn.
"Ha. Ha."
"Carter, want to help?"
"Sure."
They moved all the casting supplies to the kitchen and while Quinn filled the sink with hot water, Carter started laying down newspapers on the floor and counter tops. Then they started in covering Jack's right arm with gauze. Daniel and Teal'c watched from the doorway.
"Quinn I'm curious," said Carter.
"About what?"
"You and the Reverend Mother."
"Ah, well she gave me my name."
"Oh she's known you since you were born?"
"Not exactly."
"Not exactly?" asked Jack who was watching wet plaster being applied to his arm.
"I was one of those babes left on the doorstep with the proverbial note. Reverend Mother, then Sister Margaret, was the one who found me."
"How old were you?" asked Carter.
"Two. Actually that's all anyone knew about me. The note wasn't very informative. I'm told it had my birth date and 'Please take care' written on it."
"Must have been tough?" suggested Daniel from the doorway.
"Not really. Sister Margaret and the other nuns took real good care of us."
"Us?" asked Jack.
"Yeah, they were a serving order. They ran an orphanage."
"You said Reverend Mother gave you your name," stated Carter.
"She had a little sister who died from Scarlet Fever when she was seven. Her name was Quinn and Masters is her mother's maiden name. She said I reminded her of her sister at that age."
"But you were adopted eventually," said Jack remembering Quinn's remark from the night before about her murdered family and her talk of a father.
"Yeah, when I was five. But the Reverend Mother kept in contact. She said I was a 'special case'." Quinn grinned at Jack. "Twelve years ago the orphanage got shut down. That's when I bought Murphy's Folly. I told her if it wasn't against the rules, she could set up again there. We're done."
The two women stepped back and admired their handiwork. They hadn't made too bad a job of it, and had even managed not to make too big a mess of the kitchen.
"Without a heat lamp, it's going to take a while to dry and we'll bang it up a bit to make it look older, but I think it will work. What do you think Carter?"
"Perfect."
Jack examined the cast that ran from his elbow to his knuckles. He wiggled his fingers experimentally. "I hate casts."
***
After lunch the cast was dry enough to work on and Quinn used some camo makeup to dirty it up a bit. Seated around the dining room table again, Quinn was explaining what was going to happen next. She'd tossed two pictures on the table top and SG1 was looking at them.
"That's Zelig's mother and brother. O'Neill, you're going to go in and pretend to be Harvy Brahms while we stand watch around the bank in case those two show up."
"How will I know if they do?"
"Transmitters. We'll all be wired in. Once you get the box, just pocket what's in it. If it's negotiables, leave it ... well unless you've got a bill lying around you need to pay," she said grinning.
She got a dirty look and eyeball rolling from Jack.
"Of course we're assuming that Zelig's brother or someone else hasn't taken what was in there already," said Jack.
"Well yeah, but it's worth a try."
"I've got a question," said Daniel.
"Yeah?"
"What if they know Zelig ... at the bank I mean?"
"If they did, Zelig would hardly rent a box under an assumed name. It's really not kosher," answered Quinn. Then she tossed a couple of twenty dollar bills at Jack.
"What's this for?"
"Lost key."
Jack pocketed the money. "Oh right."
***
Quinn parked the car in the bank parking lot.
"Well we can see everything from here. Who goes in and comes out. So we won't need to split up." She handed Jack a receiver and small microphone which he put on. Anyone who saw the receiver in Jack's ear would think it was a hearing aid. The microphone clipped onto the inside of Jack's coat.
Quinn also wore a set. Jack got out of the car. He tapped on the ear piece and said, "Testing."
"Works fine O'Neill," Quinn answered. "Have fun."
Jack threw her a dirty look. "Yeah, right."
There weren't many customers in the bank and Jack looked around to make sure that Zelig's mother or brother weren't already in there. Jack could see far nough into the open vault to spot the safe deposit boxes. No one in there either. Feeling relatively secure, he went to the first available teller.
"Good afternoon, sir," the woman said. "What can I help you with today?"
"Afternoon. I need to get into my safe deposit box, but I've lost the key."
"No problem, sir. May I see some identification?"
Jack handed her the phony driver's license and she disappeared into a back room with it. A couple of minutes later she came back out and gave Jack back the driver's license. "That'll be $45, sir. For the replacement key."
"Oh yeah, right." He took out Quinn's two twenties and added a five of his own and passed them through to the teller. She wrote out a receipt for the $45 and gave Jack a copy. "This way sir." She led him to the vault. At a small table set off to the side, she handed him a card which he signed. She compared the signature to the one on the card she held and smiled. "Casts make it difficult to write, don't they sir?"
"Sure do." agreed Jack.
"Could I see your driver's license again, please?"
He handed it to her and she compare the three signatures. After a few seconds, she seemed satisfied and noted on the card the time and date. Then she handed Jack back the license along with a key. He pocketed the license again with the key hoping that the teller would take him to the box and not wait around for him to lead the way. He didn't have long to wait. She led him to a row of boxes and pulled a key from a chain around her neck, inserted it into one of the smaller boxes and waited for Jack to do the same. He did and the woman pulled the box from the wall. She handed it to Jack and he took it to the small table.
"If there's anything else I can do for you Mr. Brahms, just ask."
"I will, and uh, thank you."
Left alone with the box, he slowly opened the lid and drew in deep breath, let it out slowly and stared. There had to be over $100,000 in that box in new $50 bills.
"Sweet."
Quinn heard him through the transmitter. "What?"
"What's in the box," answered Jack keeping his voice low.
"What's in the box?"
"Enough to pay off my mortgage."
"Anything else?"
When he didn't answer right away, Quinn asked again, "O'Neill, anything else?"
"Later."
Sitting on top of the money was an envelope, a couple of zip disks, and several photographs. Jack pocketed the disks and flipped through the photos. Anyone seeing the smile on his face would have thought the devil had just entered the room through Jack. Pocketing those, he next took the envelope. It was a standard legal size letter envelope and it was sealed. From the thickness and weight, it couldn't have more than a couple of sheets of paper inside. Jack decided to wait until he got out of the bank to open it.
He counted the bundles of $50s and if there was were 50 bills in each bundle, then it was exactly $100,000. He also pocketed one of the wrappers from the money and closed the box. Putting it back in the slot in the wall, he left the room, waved at the teller, and exited the bank.
Breathing a whole lot easier now that he was out of the bank, he walked to the car and got in.
"Well?" asked Daniel.
"There was $100,000 in there in new 50 dollar bills. Here I grabbed you one of the wrappers and you owe me five bucks," he said to Quinn.
"Anything else?"
He handed the photographs to Carter. Daniel and Teal'c looked at them also as she flipped through them. "It's us," remarked Daniel. "And General Hammond ... Oh my god."
Jack had put what he thought was the best picture on the bottom of the stack. "It's Kinsey and Samuels."
"Yep."
"What else O'Neill?" asked Quinn.
He handed her the zip disks, but kept the envelope. Opening it, he took out one, typewritten sheet of paper which he started to read.
"Brian.
"If you're reading this, then I must be dead. I guess I won't get my Pulitzer after all unless they award it posthumously.
"The money in here is for you and Mom along with the bearer bonds I gave you earlier. Just do me one favor, make sure the photos and the two computer disks get to Dan Balz at the Washington Post. Tell him they are from me. He'll know what to do with them. Warn him though. I know you probably won't be able to prove it, but my death probably wasn't an accident.
"Take care of Mom. She's going to need you."
Jack handed the letter to Quinn, put his head back on the head rest, and closed his eyes.
The drive back to the apartment was spent in silence.
***
To be continued ...
Team One - Part Five
"Okay, I know what you want me to do, but why me?" protested Jack. "Why not Daniel or ... okay not Teal'c, but why not Daniel?"
"Because Daniel doesn't strike me as a very good liar," answered Quinn.
"Meaning, I am?"
Daniel looked at Jack and grinned and Carter was trying hard not to laugh. Teal'c also seemed to see the amusement, because a ghost of a smile lit up his face for a moment.
"Well you were in Special Forces, Sir," reminded Carter.
Jack turned on her. "That doesn't mean I lied Carter, it means I could get into someplace, shoot someone and they wouldn't know it until they didn't wake up in the morning."
"Yes, sir."
"Look, O'Neill. It isn't going to be difficult. I'd do it, but I don't think I have the right accessories," explained Quinn with a smile.
Jack turned his glare onto Quinn. "What about the signature? I developed my writing style purposefully so a person couldn't read it -- makes writing reports a lot easier."
Quinn had been carrying a white, plastic shopping bag when she came in and she now placed it on the table in front of her. She nudged it toward Jack.
Jack stared at the bag but didn't open it, so Daniel looked inside.
"Hey, this'll work." He started digging the contents out of the bag and putting them on the table: gauze, tape, rolled cotton, ace bandages, plaster of paris, and several newspapers.
"Oh, so I'm supposed to have a broken arm and can't write huh?"
"Have you ever tried to write legibly with a cast on your writing hand?" Quinn asked.
"Yes, and there's no difference."
Quinn shrugged. "After you just told us how you write, I'm not surprised."
Jack could see his arguments weren't going to get him anywhere so he gave in. "Alright, so who gets to play doctor?" he asked.
"To your nurse?" teased Quinn.
"Ha. Ha."
"Carter, want to help?"
"Sure."
They moved all the casting supplies to the kitchen and while Quinn filled the sink with hot water, Carter started laying down newspapers on the floor and counter tops. Then they started in covering Jack's right arm with gauze. Daniel and Teal'c watched from the doorway.
"Quinn I'm curious," said Carter.
"About what?"
"You and the Reverend Mother."
"Ah, well she gave me my name."
"Oh she's known you since you were born?"
"Not exactly."
"Not exactly?" asked Jack who was watching wet plaster being applied to his arm.
"I was one of those babes left on the doorstep with the proverbial note. Reverend Mother, then Sister Margaret, was the one who found me."
"How old were you?" asked Carter.
"Two. Actually that's all anyone knew about me. The note wasn't very informative. I'm told it had my birth date and 'Please take care' written on it."
"Must have been tough?" suggested Daniel from the doorway.
"Not really. Sister Margaret and the other nuns took real good care of us."
"Us?" asked Jack.
"Yeah, they were a serving order. They ran an orphanage."
"You said Reverend Mother gave you your name," stated Carter.
"She had a little sister who died from Scarlet Fever when she was seven. Her name was Quinn and Masters is her mother's maiden name. She said I reminded her of her sister at that age."
"But you were adopted eventually," said Jack remembering Quinn's remark from the night before about her murdered family and her talk of a father.
"Yeah, when I was five. But the Reverend Mother kept in contact. She said I was a 'special case'." Quinn grinned at Jack. "Twelve years ago the orphanage got shut down. That's when I bought Murphy's Folly. I told her if it wasn't against the rules, she could set up again there. We're done."
The two women stepped back and admired their handiwork. They hadn't made too bad a job of it, and had even managed not to make too big a mess of the kitchen.
"Without a heat lamp, it's going to take a while to dry and we'll bang it up a bit to make it look older, but I think it will work. What do you think Carter?"
"Perfect."
Jack examined the cast that ran from his elbow to his knuckles. He wiggled his fingers experimentally. "I hate casts."
***
After lunch the cast was dry enough to work on and Quinn used some camo makeup to dirty it up a bit. Seated around the dining room table again, Quinn was explaining what was going to happen next. She'd tossed two pictures on the table top and SG1 was looking at them.
"That's Zelig's mother and brother. O'Neill, you're going to go in and pretend to be Harvy Brahms while we stand watch around the bank in case those two show up."
"How will I know if they do?"
"Transmitters. We'll all be wired in. Once you get the box, just pocket what's in it. If it's negotiables, leave it ... well unless you've got a bill lying around you need to pay," she said grinning.
She got a dirty look and eyeball rolling from Jack.
"Of course we're assuming that Zelig's brother or someone else hasn't taken what was in there already," said Jack.
"Well yeah, but it's worth a try."
"I've got a question," said Daniel.
"Yeah?"
"What if they know Zelig ... at the bank I mean?"
"If they did, Zelig would hardly rent a box under an assumed name. It's really not kosher," answered Quinn. Then she tossed a couple of twenty dollar bills at Jack.
"What's this for?"
"Lost key."
Jack pocketed the money. "Oh right."
***
Quinn parked the car in the bank parking lot.
"Well we can see everything from here. Who goes in and comes out. So we won't need to split up." She handed Jack a receiver and small microphone which he put on. Anyone who saw the receiver in Jack's ear would think it was a hearing aid. The microphone clipped onto the inside of Jack's coat.
Quinn also wore a set. Jack got out of the car. He tapped on the ear piece and said, "Testing."
"Works fine O'Neill," Quinn answered. "Have fun."
Jack threw her a dirty look. "Yeah, right."
There weren't many customers in the bank and Jack looked around to make sure that Zelig's mother or brother weren't already in there. Jack could see far nough into the open vault to spot the safe deposit boxes. No one in there either. Feeling relatively secure, he went to the first available teller.
"Good afternoon, sir," the woman said. "What can I help you with today?"
"Afternoon. I need to get into my safe deposit box, but I've lost the key."
"No problem, sir. May I see some identification?"
Jack handed her the phony driver's license and she disappeared into a back room with it. A couple of minutes later she came back out and gave Jack back the driver's license. "That'll be $45, sir. For the replacement key."
"Oh yeah, right." He took out Quinn's two twenties and added a five of his own and passed them through to the teller. She wrote out a receipt for the $45 and gave Jack a copy. "This way sir." She led him to the vault. At a small table set off to the side, she handed him a card which he signed. She compared the signature to the one on the card she held and smiled. "Casts make it difficult to write, don't they sir?"
"Sure do." agreed Jack.
"Could I see your driver's license again, please?"
He handed it to her and she compare the three signatures. After a few seconds, she seemed satisfied and noted on the card the time and date. Then she handed Jack back the license along with a key. He pocketed the license again with the key hoping that the teller would take him to the box and not wait around for him to lead the way. He didn't have long to wait. She led him to a row of boxes and pulled a key from a chain around her neck, inserted it into one of the smaller boxes and waited for Jack to do the same. He did and the woman pulled the box from the wall. She handed it to Jack and he took it to the small table.
"If there's anything else I can do for you Mr. Brahms, just ask."
"I will, and uh, thank you."
Left alone with the box, he slowly opened the lid and drew in deep breath, let it out slowly and stared. There had to be over $100,000 in that box in new $50 bills.
"Sweet."
Quinn heard him through the transmitter. "What?"
"What's in the box," answered Jack keeping his voice low.
"What's in the box?"
"Enough to pay off my mortgage."
"Anything else?"
When he didn't answer right away, Quinn asked again, "O'Neill, anything else?"
"Later."
Sitting on top of the money was an envelope, a couple of zip disks, and several photographs. Jack pocketed the disks and flipped through the photos. Anyone seeing the smile on his face would have thought the devil had just entered the room through Jack. Pocketing those, he next took the envelope. It was a standard legal size letter envelope and it was sealed. From the thickness and weight, it couldn't have more than a couple of sheets of paper inside. Jack decided to wait until he got out of the bank to open it.
He counted the bundles of $50s and if there was were 50 bills in each bundle, then it was exactly $100,000. He also pocketed one of the wrappers from the money and closed the box. Putting it back in the slot in the wall, he left the room, waved at the teller, and exited the bank.
Breathing a whole lot easier now that he was out of the bank, he walked to the car and got in.
"Well?" asked Daniel.
"There was $100,000 in there in new 50 dollar bills. Here I grabbed you one of the wrappers and you owe me five bucks," he said to Quinn.
"Anything else?"
He handed the photographs to Carter. Daniel and Teal'c looked at them also as she flipped through them. "It's us," remarked Daniel. "And General Hammond ... Oh my god."
Jack had put what he thought was the best picture on the bottom of the stack. "It's Kinsey and Samuels."
"Yep."
"What else O'Neill?" asked Quinn.
He handed her the zip disks, but kept the envelope. Opening it, he took out one, typewritten sheet of paper which he started to read.
"Brian.
"If you're reading this, then I must be dead. I guess I won't get my Pulitzer after all unless they award it posthumously.
"The money in here is for you and Mom along with the bearer bonds I gave you earlier. Just do me one favor, make sure the photos and the two computer disks get to Dan Balz at the Washington Post. Tell him they are from me. He'll know what to do with them. Warn him though. I know you probably won't be able to prove it, but my death probably wasn't an accident.
"Take care of Mom. She's going to need you."
Jack handed the letter to Quinn, put his head back on the head rest, and closed his eyes.
The drive back to the apartment was spent in silence.
***
To be continued ...