Jonas – written by Amber. Stolen thoughtlessly and played with, please forgive me!
The night air was dark and cool. A cigarette being lit up the air briefly, a guard trying to warm himself by it. The guard quickly snapped to attention as a man with an armful of documents walked by. He stopped and smiled at the solider, whose face showed the discomfort of the fag burning his hand.
"You can smoke that you know."
"Yes sir." The man smiled and continued walking into the house. He stopped in the doorway of one of the rooms. The open fireplace heated the room, giving it an artificial cozy' feeling. The man knew this, because the man who stood at the windows, his back turned to him, was far from warm and friendly.
"Jonas! I brought you a little present." Jonas turned, a smile slowly spreading across his face, his eyes narrow and black.
"Its about time. Shall we take a look?"
"I'll be glad too." He opened the documents onto the table and pulled them out, sorting them into photographs, satellite pictures and maps. Jonas picked up one of the photographs. It was of Sam and Jack. Just before they entered his house, a smile on both their faces.
"You know, when I was first in this air force, I went to a survival training course. This man here ran it, and that's where I met Samantha. I thought these two seemed a little too familiar with each other. And now it turns out that they have known each other for years."
"You certainly would have pissed this Colonel O'Neill off then." Jonas gave a wicked smile.
"Did I ever."
"Here's the plans, this shows her usual routine as she head out to work. Your best tactic would be to get her here, along the mountain road."
"Mmmm" Jonas studied the route. "There is a clearing at the top of this mountain. We can put a helicopter there."
"Wouldn't the base pick it up?"
"I wouldn't think so. If we do it here, they won't even notice. The base is about another half an hour up the mountain." The man nodded. He sat down and began writing a few notes down, then it hit him. He knew this man, this Colonel O'Neill. He was older now, not quite how he remembered him...
"Mark, conduct a perimeter search would you?" He nodded. Standing up, Mark then frowned. O'Neill owned the corvette that he and Simon had pulled up that night... He picked up the radio and sighed before giving the order.
Jack could smell the cigarettes before he could see them. It was one fault that Americans had in the armed forces, they always smoked too much... He ducked as he saw a few guards coming in his direction. The passed him and Jack quietly ran forward. He could see the house through the trees; its lights glowed in to the night. On the veranda, he could make out the figure of a man with a radio. Giving orders for the search. Jack was sure that they hadn't detected him. Jonas was known for giving perimeter searches when he was planning something. He was sure that this something was to do with Sam. Jack spotted several guards on the roof. Putting his night vision on, he attached the silencer and aimed. The guards fell down without even having the chance to react. Jack patted the rifle. God I love these quick firing ones... He got to his feet and moved closer.
"Search came up negative, Jonas."
"Good. You can never be too careful..."
"Would you like me to get your men in?"
"I think that we should. I would like this project to get started as quickly as possible, it's taken me that long to get the required information..." Mark stepped out side. He didn't want to do this anymore. Not because of Jack, but because he was feeling guilty about it. His family bankrupt, Jonas had come to him, promising a huge paycheck. It was only till it was too late that he realized that it was a mistake. He had sent word to is family to get out while they still could, now he had no idea where they were, or how to get himself out of it. Mark hadn't seen his family in 15 years. In fact, it wasn't long after he and Simon had taken Jack back to his parents...
Jack shifted slightly in the tree. The man below him was leaning against the rail, swearing and muttering to himself. He looked up and Jack himself cursed. Mark, from the police... 10 minutes later, mark returned with several men. Jack scanned the house with his scope. Jonas was just out of view, but he could see the mans shadow through a curtain. He could always risk the shot... But if I miss, I will be found and killed. Suddenly Jonas came into view. It was just enough to kill the man... Jack nestled himself to get comfortable and took aim... Mark obstructed his view.
Shit. Jack watched them go into the opposite side of the house. He jumped from the tree and made his way over. Much better. He had a clear view of all but 1 man. Jonas was sitting amongst the men; Mark was the one who was missing Jack began to set himself up. I've never thought of myself as an assassin, but I assassinate people Technically, I get paid and I am given a target, I then go out and shoot them. He adjusted the setting on the scope. I wonder what Sam thinks of this? She knows that I got up to some shit, but she doesn't know that I am an assassin. I should probably tell her. Mark sat down on one of the chairs in the bar. He wasn't part of this process. I know that I am not allowed, but whom is she going to tell? Half the stuff she does is top secret as well. This secrecy thing is over rated. That's why Special Forces men go nuts every now and then. We can't tell people about what we have done, and those that we can tell, our CO's, since we are forbidden to talk about it among the force, just tell us to get on with it. It's just a job.
Jack took aim. Jonas Hansen was clear... Yeah right. It's just a job. How about they get off their fucking asses and try and kill some one, how would you like killing a boy, Davis? Sure you would say, but in reality, that's why you stay on that nice chair, cause you are to damn weak to stand up and pull the trigger yourself. Jack sat back, resting the run on his lap. He then took another look through the scope. A picture, of him and Sam. Fuck you! You fucking rapist! Jack quickly took aim. His finger nestled over the trigger. He began to slowly pull down. CLICK! It sounded so loud, but Jack didn't jump. He turned to see one of the guards behind him, gun aimed at the base of his neck. "Shit."
Mark looked up in astonishment. There was Jack himself, being held with a gun to his head, the rifle in the guard's hand. Jonas smiled. "Well, O'Neill. I can see where your career has taken you." Jack starred at him, his eyes neutral. All that training had come into some use... Jonas picked up a picture.
"You know, Jack..."
"That would be Colonel O'Neill." He was rewarded with a punch in the stomach that sent him bending in half.
"Jack, I should have know that there was something up between you and my Samantha. I guess the reason that I didn't take too much notice is that I was the one fucking her..." Jack straightened. He looked in his opponent's eyes. He launched himself at Jonas, only to be pulled back by the guards.
"Mark, have him taken to the cells, and keep an eye on him."
"Sure" Mark led the way down the halls. Before being thrown it, Jack was hit over the head with a rifle but. As he fell to the ground, Jack saw the pained apology on Marks' face.
Jack groaned as he rolled over. The headache told him that he shouldn't be moving. His eyes focused on Marks face. "Hello again."
"I didn't think you would recognize me."
"Are you kidding? Of course I am going to remember the faces of the men who slashed my tires." Mark grinned.
"Do you regret the air force?"
"No. But if I hadn't of joined, I wouldn't have met her, but now, I can't be with her." Mark nodded. He felt sad. Jack definitely was a different man, then again so was he. Jack sat up, leaning against the wall.
"What are you doing here Mark?"
"I got into some trouble a while ago, and now I am to far in it all to get myself out." Jack shifted.
"He's a fucking bastard, isn't he?" Mark nodded. Jack let his head rest against the wall for a moment, and then he felt the cool metal against his upper arm. My knife! He began moving his arm to slide the knife down. He would have to kill Jonas the hard way. The old fashioned way.
The doors opened, casting the harsh light into the cells. Jack rolled away from it shielding his eyes. Beside him, Mark stood up. The guards came in and pulled Jack to his feet. Great and fantastic...
"Ease up there fellas, I'm old and fragile..." Jonas stood there. Behind him was the finished plan. A smile covering his face. The guards sat Jack down on a chair. Jack watched as Jonas picked up his rifle and studied it.
"It's a fine piece of metal. Who gave it to you?"
"A friend." Jonas nodded. "A friend. Jack, let me ask you something. Does a man who kills people for a living, say an assassin, really have friends?" Shit. What is he, a mind reader? "Sure they do. I've got lots of friends."
"Are they your real friends?" Jack thought for a moment. "I would have never of met them if I hadn't joined up."
"See?" Jonas walked over to him. "A man who kills people never has friends." Jack nodded and hung his head. Jonas smiled, He recognized submission.
"They might not say it to your face, Jack. But they do say it. Sam, she hates the fact that you have killed people."
"She doesn't know, I've never told her."
"She does Jack, they all know about you. You are a murderer and always will be."
"Its not my fault, I couldn't help it."
"No you couldn't. It was Sam's fault, and all those who you work with."
"What do I do?" Jonas smiled he stepped forward and pulled Jack to his feet and showed him the pile of paper.
"The only thing that an assassin is capable of doing. You must kill her." Jonas handed Jack Sam's' photograph. Mark swore to himself. Jack used to be so strong... He then saw a sudden blackness come into Jacks eyes. His face darkened and his lips formed a slight smile... Jack turned.
"You're right. I must kill." Jack pulled the knife from his sleeve and drove it into Jonas' throat. The man opened his mouth trying to form words, the blood spurting from the wound. Jack let him fall and grabbed his gun, he began to open fire on the shocked guards.
Mark watched in a daze as Jonas fell to the ground. Jack seemed to go into automatic pilot as he fired on the guards who were slow to react as usual. Mark then remembered the gun that he had in the back of his pants. He pulled it out and began to fire on them. Mark had never experienced pain like this before. It felt like a pinprick, and then it was if an explosion had gone off in his leg. He looked up at the man who had shot him and fired several bullets before falling to the ground. God this hurts.
Mark looked up and saw Jack, sitting quietly against a wall. A strange loud sound came over him, it filled his ears, and somehow made his leg hurt more. Then he recognized it. He was on a helicopter. A small bump and the noise seemed to die away; Mark then saw the night sky that was quickly turning to day. He then saw strange faces.
"Did you complete the mission?"
"Wouldn't be here if I didn't. Davis, this is Mark. He's an old friend of mine." The gray man nodded.
Mark smiled as Jack sat down in the chair beside his hospital bed. "Mark, how are you doing?"
"Fine, the legs great. Can't feel a thing." Jack tapped the drip.
"Morphine's a great thing isn't it?" Mark laughed.
"Hey I've got good news. Davis found your family. They'll be here in the morning."
"Are they Ok?"
"Yeah, ecstatic to have you back..."
"Speaking of back?"
"Yeah, I have to actually go back home..." Mark nodded.
"Colorado Springs?"
"Yeah. Never thought I'd be there when I was 13."
"No one ever does."
The helicopter woke them in the early hours of the morning. Jack peeled his eyes open to look at the contraption that had woken him. Mark opened his eyes, shielding them against the glare of the rising sun, working out the kinks in his neck. Sleeping against a tree isn't all that good for a person. Even though there were beds inside the house, they didn't want to sleep there, it would be like they were admitting that they were like the dead men inside. Jack climbed in and watched as the chopper climbed away from the ground. In front of him was Davis' face, pleased with the job that he had done. Jack sighed. He was just pleased that he had gotten out alive. He looked at Mark, who was now sleeping. Sounds like a good idea... Jack let his eyes drift shut as the helicopter flew out of the trees.
I've got my work cut out with you, you tore bits out of me
Your carpet burns and bruises blue, are there for all to see
But I can tell you've been through hell
Finally you wear it well
It's an accessory, it's time to change your uniform
And hand it on to me, to me
And I dream one day I'll find
The one who lives inside my mind
They feel the same way too, we've all been used
Dazed, beautiful and bruised (x2)
And blame is not a one way street, the widest alley
But cause me grief, and my belief is harm will come to you
Between the lines I think you'll find
Lessons learned from valleys eyes
Beauty can turn sour, so recognise through all the lies
The hero of the hour, the hour
And I dream one day I'll find
The one who lives inside my mind
They feel the same way too, we've all been used
When there's nothing, nothing left to lose
Dazed, beautiful and bruised
Catatonia – Dazed Beautiful and Bruised
Jack,
It seems so strange, writing to you like this. Knowing the circumstances under which you read this. I find myself unconsciously putting off writing to you, all of the other letters lie to one side, written, typed and packaged away. Ready to be forgotten. But this letter is so much harder. I find writing this single letter scares me the most.
I wanted so many things in my life. I had so many dreams. I want to thank you for being able to experience most of those in my years in the star gate program. It's been a wild ride and I regret nothing more than leaving it behind.
I feel I owe you some explanation for my actions. I wish I could have been strong enough to talk about this to your face, tell you of my past and my plans for the future. I have always wondered how you might react, but was scared that I would not be able to explain myself well enough, and only damage things for the both of us.
When I was young my mother died in an accident. My brother blamed my father and the Air Force and moved away from us both as soon as he was able. My father blamed himself and moved away from me. I joined the Air Force for many reasons. One, I think, although I did not know it at the time, was to try to get my father back. Not the Air Force Colonel, as he was then, but my father. By doing this I isolated my brother even more and still my father didn't change. I haven't talked to my dad in over five years.
Somehow I blame all of this for my attraction to the wild edge I saw in Jonas. I saw a soul that was within my reach. I saw hope that if I could help this one man I could possibly go on to pull my family back together. Save us all.
It was a few years before I realised my mistake, and then I knew that what Jonas had become was more than I could ever save. I knew that if I left him he would lash out at the nearest person, and I wasn't willing to let that happen. I was trapped, to scared to move in either direction. So I made a plan.
I did what I did to make sure that he couldn't just move on to the next person. I did what I did to protect the people around me. I don't want any one else getting hurt because of me, Jack. I want him to get put away, so he's as far away from anyone I care about as possible. I want you to help me with that Jack, because I know I can't do it alone anymore. I don't want anyone else to get hurt.
I want to thank you for your help. It has been a great honour serving with you and the rest of SG1. I hope I have made you proud.
Major Dr. Samantha Carter
12-3-1999
Angel of Death
Lunatic, fell asleep.
Prayed the Lord his soul doth keep.
Lunatic, began to cry.
Show no mercy, let him die.
Lunatic, your life is meaningless.
Never to overcome your worthlessness.
Lunatic, don't fight thine fate.
Destiny delivers you to hell's gate.
Lunatic, inferior in every way.
Complex deepens with passing day.
Lunatic, feel guilty to exist.
I come for you, don't resist.
Lunatic, a damnation of humanity.
Filled with hate and broken sanity.
Lunatic, do you hear a shrill wail?
The Angel of Death marches upon your trail.
Lunatic, Look me in the eye.
Apocalypse now, do or die.
Lunatic, tragic life ebbs away.
A motionless corpse begins to decay.
Lunatic, you passed the test.
Heretic hero fulfilled his quest.
Lunatic, your triumphant rebirth.
No longer shalt thou plague sacred earth.
Beautiful Freak