They want to know why. Why? That's what I keep asking myself and unfortunately the answer, if I'm honest with myself, isn't going to be the one they want to hear. Or maybe it is, who knows. I just know it isn't the answer I want to hear. It isn't the answer I want to admit to. I know how it all started and I know that because of that it means only one thing. I'm not the person I thought I was. I'm not Jack O'Neill.
***
The doorbell rang bringing with it another hang over ... reminders of another night with a bottle and some woman he'd picked up on 2nd Ave. A quick glance to see if the woman was still there, a small sigh of relief that she wasn't. Another look at the dresser this time and his wallet ... open and probably empty of any cash that was in it.
Hail the conquering hero.
The doorbell rang again.
***
Maybourne at the door. What the hell does he want? Nothing good that's for sure. Him and those NID idiots think they know what's good for everybody and to hell with what anyone else thinks.
Two hours later and he still thinks he can turn me. Still thinks he knows what I'm thinking ... what I believe in. All that patriot garbage and how he's doing it all because we need the stuff to defend ourselves against the snake heads. Yeah, right Maybourne. I don't believe that anymore than you do. You and your masters just want something they can use here ... against our enemies here ... not out there. Get off your high horse, Maybourne, and tell me the truth. Then maybe I'll listen ... then maybe I'll consider it. Tell me how much you hate Jack O'Neill.
***
I told him and I wanted to beat that smile off of his face ... that sick, malignant smile because he thinks he's got me. Thinks he's so good. Thinks he's so clever. What he doesn't know is that I'm not doing it for him or his damned flag waving ideals. I'm doing it because ...
Hail the conquering hero.
The first time was so easy and I'd gotten it all down on paper and on tape. I was going to go to Hammond and give it to him. I was all prepared to be the hero of the day but it happened again. O'Neill. He kidnaps a kid, goes against orders, and what happens to him? Nothing. Oh a slap on the wrist by Hammond, but that's all. Jack O'Neill, golden boy even when he does something wrong he's still Hammond's fair haired boy. Maybe I'll just keep this little secret of mine to myself after all.
***
Confession is good for the soul, isn't that what some say? Well it sure wasn't good for mine last night. I suppose maybe I should have picked someone else to confess to rather than a bottle and some $50 hooker from 2nd Ave. Maybe that's why I don't feel any better about not telling Hammond even if the whore made all the right comments, all the right sounds. Maybe it was because the bottle didn't.
***
O'Neill turned? That's a laugh. I warned Maybourne. Told him that he was being set up. He just smiled and said that he figured it was only a matter of time before he got to O'Neill. He's delusional. I know. I know O'Neill. I know him better than he knows himself. At one time I thought I was him. Not any longer. Now now. Not now.
***
I could feel him. I could feel his eyes on me as I took it. I knew it was over and I still did it. O'Neill, the hero. O'Neill, the man of the hour. O'Neill, the saviour of the universe. O'Neill had to be the one to catch us all ... to catch me.
Hail the conquering hero.
***
"Why did you do you it?"
I'll tell him what I didn't tell Maybourne.
"Because I'm not O'Neill."
***
The doorbell rang bringing with it another hang over ... reminders of another night with a bottle and some woman he'd picked up on 2nd Ave. A quick glance to see if the woman was still there, a small sigh of relief that she wasn't. Another look at the dresser this time and his wallet ... open and probably empty of any cash that was in it.
Hail the conquering hero.
The doorbell rang again.
***
Maybourne at the door. What the hell does he want? Nothing good that's for sure. Him and those NID idiots think they know what's good for everybody and to hell with what anyone else thinks.
Two hours later and he still thinks he can turn me. Still thinks he knows what I'm thinking ... what I believe in. All that patriot garbage and how he's doing it all because we need the stuff to defend ourselves against the snake heads. Yeah, right Maybourne. I don't believe that anymore than you do. You and your masters just want something they can use here ... against our enemies here ... not out there. Get off your high horse, Maybourne, and tell me the truth. Then maybe I'll listen ... then maybe I'll consider it. Tell me how much you hate Jack O'Neill.
***
I told him and I wanted to beat that smile off of his face ... that sick, malignant smile because he thinks he's got me. Thinks he's so good. Thinks he's so clever. What he doesn't know is that I'm not doing it for him or his damned flag waving ideals. I'm doing it because ...
Hail the conquering hero.
The first time was so easy and I'd gotten it all down on paper and on tape. I was going to go to Hammond and give it to him. I was all prepared to be the hero of the day but it happened again. O'Neill. He kidnaps a kid, goes against orders, and what happens to him? Nothing. Oh a slap on the wrist by Hammond, but that's all. Jack O'Neill, golden boy even when he does something wrong he's still Hammond's fair haired boy. Maybe I'll just keep this little secret of mine to myself after all.
***
Confession is good for the soul, isn't that what some say? Well it sure wasn't good for mine last night. I suppose maybe I should have picked someone else to confess to rather than a bottle and some $50 hooker from 2nd Ave. Maybe that's why I don't feel any better about not telling Hammond even if the whore made all the right comments, all the right sounds. Maybe it was because the bottle didn't.
***
O'Neill turned? That's a laugh. I warned Maybourne. Told him that he was being set up. He just smiled and said that he figured it was only a matter of time before he got to O'Neill. He's delusional. I know. I know O'Neill. I know him better than he knows himself. At one time I thought I was him. Not any longer. Now now. Not now.
***
I could feel him. I could feel his eyes on me as I took it. I knew it was over and I still did it. O'Neill, the hero. O'Neill, the man of the hour. O'Neill, the saviour of the universe. O'Neill had to be the one to catch us all ... to catch me.
Hail the conquering hero.
***
"Why did you do you it?"
I'll tell him what I didn't tell Maybourne.
"Because I'm not O'Neill."