*
*
*
It wasn't Maybourne.
"I'm looking for Ms Clorel," an unfamiliar, low-timbre male voice said.
Leaning to the side to see past Daniel, Sam was slightly surprised to see that one of the bodyguards was at the door. Not Tim, the one she knew on a hello-and-good-bye basis, but one of the VIP guards. The hairs on the back of her neck started to tingle nervously. "Hi, I'm Sam Clorel. Can I help you?"
The man nodded at her respectfully, unknowingly drawing her attention to the black marking on his otherwise milk-pale forehead. "Miss, I work at the restaurant. Miss Vautour asks that you come a little bit early tonight. One of the senior waitresses is off sick and she would like to fill in. She needs someone to fill the VIP place."
Sam blinked.
Numerous thoughts crossed her mind, the most prominent of which was the fact that she knew the majority of the junior waitresses were far more capable than she and that any one of them would be far more suitable to work in the VIP room. She knew, too, that someone could just have picked up the phone and called her to ask her to come in early. Ms Buckingham had done it a number of times in front of her while Sam had been checking in at reception.
There was no way this was a legitimate reason.
The guard had come to her door to make sure she turned up at Luxor. She had no doubt that if she was unwilling, he would simply knock her out and take her there, regardless of who was watching. She had no doubt he was there to make sure she didn't make a run for it.
It was a trap.
Looking around at Daniel and the Colonel, she could see they knew it too. The Colonel was staring at the bodyguard while Daniel's mouth was opening and closing like the proverbial fish. There was nothing she could say to them in front of this man.
"Could you give me a moment to gather my things?"
"Sure, miss." He managed a tight smile. "Would you mind if I got myself a glass of water?"
Damn. "No problem." Sam gestured to the sink where Daniel's sparkling glasses were all lying upside down on the draining board.
The man leaned back out of the door and shouted down towards the stairs. "Eric, I'm just getting a glass of water."
They all heard the footsteps and she distinctly heard the Colonel laugh slightly as he lowered his head into his hands when another guard turned up at her door, leaning in, apparently perfectly casual. He smiled at everyone. "Good evening." The black man looked around her apartment, still smiling and put his hands in his slacks' pockets. The posture meant that his jacket opened at the side, displaying the guns he had holstered on both hips. Sam nearly rolled her eyes.
Since when had they carried guns?
"Nice place," the new guy said. "Compact. But nice."
Either they knew exactly what was going on and were really fantastic actors, Sam thought, or they were toying with her.
Sam was aiming for the latter. She was cynical like that.
She realized she had told them she needed to get ready and she quickly grabbed her coat, taking her bag over to the bed when she remembered that Jerry was still hiding in the bathroom. She pulled out her compact and started to do her make-up.
"Isn't that a bathroom?" the water guy said, standing with the glass in his hand.
"Yeah but the light's not working. I can't see to do my makeup," she said, unrolling her lipstick and glancing at the Colonel as she did so. She rolled her eyes to the bedside table where she knew he kept his gun but a mere dip of his mouth told her he wasn't up for that idea.
"Um, sorry, where are my manners?" She half turned and gestured to both Daniel and the Colonel. If they were going to play with her, then she was going to play right back. "Jack, Daniel, these men work at Luxor. I'm sorry, I don't know your names. Eric and...?"
"Oh, I'm James." James smiled tightly and leaned forward to shake Daniel's hand. "Daniel."
Daniel didn't look thrilled and he smiled through his teeth. "Nice to meet you."
The Colonel waved the offer of a handshake. He flicked out his hand. "Arthritis," he explained as an excuse. He glanced at his watch unnecessarily. "Shouldn't you be going, Sam? Don't want you to be late. Who knows? Maybe you'll get a promotion."
"I doubt it," Sam said dryly. At least her hands weren't shaking, she thought as she whipped the lipstick across her top and bottom lip. "Right, hat, gloves, scarf, jacket... are we walking?"
"No, we've got a car waiting downstairs."
"A car." She smiled forcefully. "How nice."
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.
*
Maybe they should have tried to overpower them, Sam thought as she sat between James and Eric in the back-seat of the car. She didn't recognize the driver of the dark sedan from behind but judging from his similar bulk and height, she guessed he was another bodyguard.
Too late now, obviously, but later, when she wrote her report - and she would, she told herself firmly - she would have to seriously think about how the evening had gone wrong.
At least she was wired. Which was a plus.
No gun - not so much of a plus.
On the other hand, she had no doubt that Daniel, Jerry and the Colonel were on red alert right now, following her in Jerry's ratty old surveillance van - which Jerry had proudly referred to earlier as a 'classic' spy van. That is, if the Colonel didn't think it was too obvious. Mut was already suspicious of her.
"Do you mind if I put the radio on?" the guy driving asked, looking in the rear view mirror at Sam.
"No. Fine," she said, smiling over-brightly.
He leaned forward and flicked the radio station over to something classical. Strains of violins started playing softly in the background. Sam wasn't really a classical music kind of girl but at the moment it was better than loud music. She didn't want anything to block the sound getting through to the Colonel and the others.
She looked at Eric and James. "So... how long have you worked at Luxor?"
"Longer than you, I'd say. Wouldn't you say, Eric?" James said, leaning forward to look at his comrade.
Eric nodded thoughtfully. "I'd say. Definitely longer than you."
Christ.
"You like working there?"
"I do. Don't you, James?"
"Oh, certainly I do."
For God's sake...
"See Ms Vautour frequently?"
James shrugged. "Now and again."
"Yeah, now and again," Eric put in, smiling at her. "She's a great boss, don't you think, James?"
"Oh yeah, a great boss. Absolutely."
Sam rolled her eyes.
She had a feeling James and Eric spent a little too much time together.
The driver took a fairly abrupt right hand turn down a street Sam was only vaguely familiar with. She could just about place herself, thanks to the recons she'd done with the Colonel earlier, and put herself a couple of buildings away from Luxor.
The car drew to a halt in front of a large, dark-windowed block. Eric shuffled out of the car and held out his hand for Sam, who just about managed to get out of the car without splitting the skirt of her uniform or flashing her underwear. She considered it the one achievement of the evening.
Looking up, she asked, "Where are we?" It could have been a huge apartment building but there was very little to suggest anyone lived there.
James put a large hand on her back and pushed her towards an unassuming, peeling red door just as the driver ran up and opened it. The blackness was not encouraging. "You're getting a treat tonight, miss."
She started to slow down, pushing her heels down into the ground but Eric's hand joined James', just as they both took her by the elbows and lifted her clean off the ground, propelling her towards the door.
Unceremoniously, she was pushed into the darkness.
And, oh cliché of clichés, the damn door was closed behind her.
"I'm just betting it's locked too."
With almost perfect timing, there was a solid thunk as a heavy lock slid into place.
Sam sighed and the darkness began to crawl towards her.
*
"I can't do this."
"Major Carter, *Sam*..."
She lifted her head from her hand and glared at him. She would much prefer that all things related to 'the incident' be related to Major Carter, rather than to Sam. Sam she liked to keep clean out of the workplace. "I prefer Major Carter."
"All right." He made a note on his clipboard. "Let's go back to the beginning. Tell me how you came to be possessed by the symbiote."
"I've told you already. I've told the whole damn base already." Irritably, she glanced at her watch. She had better things to do than be here.
The urge to reach behind and scratch furiously at her neck was almost unbearable.
"Tell me, Sam."
"Major Carter," she pressed, speaking through her teeth now.
She was perilously close to losing her temper, couldn't he see that?
"You don't have to go into any detail. I just want to hear the words from your lips."
No.
No, no, no, no, *no*.
"We were evacuating the...." Almost immediately, she stumbled.
Major Carter, stumbling in reciting a report? She'd only just given the same report to General Hammond and she hadn't stumbled then. Why was she doing it now?
She stood up quickly. "Look, I don't want to do this."
"It is advised that all SGC person..."
"I'm not saying I'll never do it. Just... give me a couple of days to... adjust. Okay?"
The doctor looked up at her, sympathy in his eyes. "A couple of days."
Sensing an escape, she started to relax. "Yeah. Just a couple of days."
Seemed miles away.
"All right, Major. I'll see you in a couple of days."
And leaving, Sam wondered if he knew the truth just as she did. That he wouldn't see her in a couple of days.
*
She hated the dark.
Okay, that wasn't true, she thought as her hands reached out into the nothingness. She liked some kinds of darkness. The darkness of a bedroom. The warmth of it. The comfort. The occasional - very occasional - feeling that there was someone you cared for in the bed with you.
That kind of darkness was wonderful. She'd experienced quite a bit of that darkness recently.
This was a different kind of darkness entirely.
Other senses on full alert, Sam waited with bated breath for her eyesight to improve. Her night-sight was usually very good, but then there was almost always some form of light, be it alien or human. In this case, the room was genuinely very dark. All windows and other light sources seemed to be blocked and she'd noticed on the way down the street that the street lights weren't working. And her overall impression of the building had been very dark too - dark, reflecting windows.
This really didn't bode well.
A soft breath of wind tickled the back of her neck.
Oh.... boy.
"Hello?"
What a dumb thing to say, she thought, just a little hysterical.
Come on, Sam, where's your Major instincts?
Back in my damn BDUs.
She slowly sank down to her knees, running her fingers lightly over the floor. Smooth, polished. Floorboards. A couple of feet in front of her was a wall, she could tell because the darkness was somehow more solid right in front of her and she had a fleeting image just as the door had opened from the outside of the square shape of a picture on the wall. To the left and right there is more darkness, of the spatial kind.
So, slipping out of her heels, but picking them up quietly, she crept forward until the wall was right in front of her and she could turn her back against it. She hated feeling like she was exposed to the enemy.
She wanted to give the Colonel a report, some idea of where she was but she didn't want to give away the fact that she was wired.
Looks like a little bit of crazy talking to herself was in order, then.
"Well, this is nice," she whispered, leaning down to talk to her breasts. "Why the hell would they dump me in some building a couple of streets away from Luxor?" Sam winced slightly - even to her this facade seemed weak. "And why aren't any of the damn street lights working? Landlord should really look into it." She managed a slightly strangled giggle and was fairly impressed with her achievement.
That breath of wind came back again and all the hairs on the back of her neck and arms rose in unison. A tingling began.
A familiar tingling.
Crap. This was getting really old.