As he pulled the kid along, Clark asked, "What's your name?"
"Randy Peterson, sir" the young Marine answered.
"Corporal Peterson, get Agent Altman here," Clark ordered as they rounded the corner to the entrance to the lodge. Clark was familiar enough with the chain of command within the Ryan detail to know that with Price now a hostage Roy Altman would be senior agent on scene. His thoughts were interrupted as Jack O'Neill came around the same corner at the same time from the opposite direction. With him were his father-in-law and the large black man with the strange tattoo.
"Mr. Clark," O'Neill greeted the other man coolly. Jack thought he'd made it fairly clear with that one look that if anything happened to Sam he was going to take it out on Clark's hide. "Where's my wife?"
"She ordered me to come get you and her father. She said to tell you Colonel Rivers is out there," Clark informed them. His suit jacket and tie came off to be abandoned on the ground before he rolled up the sleeves on his dress shirt. The black man whose name Clark didn't know merely raised an eyebrow while the reactions from O'Neill and Carter were decidedly more vocal. "There's more," John warned. "Rivera's a Goa'uld according to your wife. Standing side-by-side there's a noticeable resemblance in their appearance. Father and son maybe? They've got the President, a couple of agents, and Admiral Chegwidden as their hostages. Dr. O'Neill's stalling for time. Now...you want to give me a weapon? I feel kinda naked right about now," Clark suggested. Without pause, he turned to Peterson and ordered, "Have Mrs. Foley join us over here as well." He didn't wait to see if the corporal obeyed turning instead back towards O'Neill and his companions with his hand extended.
"Jacob, Mr. Clark needs a weapon," O'Neill commanded as amusement warred with respect in the expression on his face. His father-in-law responded by removing the holstered weapon from his belt and handing it to Clark. O'Neill wasted no more time. He too turned to Peterson. "You know the layout around here?" he demanded of the young man.
"Yes, sir."
"Take Teal'c and Jacob around to the other side of the compound. The long way," Jack demanded. "Stay hidden."
As Peterson obeyed his orders guiding Jacob and Teal'c around the side of the building, an agent dressed in dark clothes rapidly approached along with Mary Pat Foley. "There's no way in Hell you're taking charge, Clark" Roy Altman told the older man angrily. "With Price out of commission, I'm senior agent on the scene." Having gotten the First Lady to safety in one of the other lodges, she'd ordered him to find out what was going on. When the information that Price had been taken hostage along with the President had been relayed to him, Roy had realized he was now in charge. Leaving the First Lady and the Ryan kids in the care of the more junior agents on her detail, he'd immediately gone to assess the situation. Peterson's message had brought him here.
"You have any idea what you're up against?" Jack demanded. "You know how to get past that shield?"
"No," Roy admitted, "but I have a feeling you do."
"That's right," Jack said. "And my wife's out there drawing attention away from the President and your agents. So your turf war doesn't interest me. I don't care who's in charge officially. The reality is, you don't know how to fight them, and I do. That puts me in charge. Discussion's over." Having said his peace, Jack began edging his way closer to the standoff in the driveway with the others trailing behind him. He led them to where one of the Marines was ducked down at the edge of one of the other lodges. He ignored the whispered conversation between them as Roy Altman reluctantly ceded authority to the DDI Foley. "Tell me what's been going on," Jack commanded the young man. A nod from Altman confirmed the order. As soon as the Marine relayed the lie Sam had told about his presence at Camp David, Jack interrupted, "Give me your cover, son."
As Jack pulled the hat down low on his forehead, Altman handed over his own pair of sunglasses. "Will that be enough?" he asked understanding why this man must have asked for the hat, but not how well known he was to the hostage takers.
"Probably," Jack guessed, "but I don't intend to let him see me regardless."
"Someone want to tell me what's going on?" Mary Pat Foley demanded.
Jack didn't turn his attention away from assessing the standoff as he quickly gave his three companions his version of 'Goa'uld 101.' He absently answered their questions while he measured distances with his eyes. Jack estimated he was fifty yards from the standoff in the driveway. Sam had managed to inch her way to within ten feet of the Goa'uld. Possible scenarios were rapidly running through O'Neill's head as the radio clipped to his belt squawked once then erupted with his father-in-law's voice, "Jack, we're in place here. We're about 30 feet from Sam and the Goa'uld behind the humvee."
After another quick scan of the area, Jack picked out the vehicle that served as their concealment. "I see you," Jack confirmed. "We're behind the building directly across from you."
"Got you," the radio informed him. "You got a plan, Jack?"
"I'm working on it," Jack told his father-in-law before turning to Altman. "I need your radio, Agent..."
"Altman," Roy supplied, but he didn't hand over the radio. Instead he spoke into his sleeve. A few seconds later, another agent joined them with a spare radio for O'Neill.
As soon as he was outfitted, Jack slowly peeked around the edge of the building once more. "Altman, how many people are on this frequency right now?" he asked.
"A couple hundred," Roy informed him.
Jack nodded then raised his wrist to his face to speak into the tiny microphone now clipped to the cuff of his shirt. "Price, this is O'Neill. If you can hear me clench your left fist," he said. A moment later as Jack watched, Agent Price clenched her left fist. "Good," Jack said. "Okay, left fist means yes. Right fist means no." As he watched her carefully, Jack questioned Price gathering information the information he needed from her. "What are the names of the other two agents out there?" he asked Altman.
"Aiken and Nieto," Altman answered. He was crouched down low next to O'Neill observing the situation with his own eyes. "Aiken is the one on the left."
Jack nodded. "Price, Aiken, and Nieto. When we make our move, grab the President and Chegwidden and run as quickly as you can away from Rivera, the old guy. I know this is going to sound like something out of the X-Files, but there's a parasite in him. It's a kind of snake. It's controlling him. When we make our move, it might try to find another host," Jack explained. "Trust me, you don't want to have one of these things inside you. That's why you need to move fast to get away from it when the time comes. Everyone else out here, that's why none of you are to get any closer than you already are. Stay back, and let us handle it. Got it?" Over the radio there were various confirmations from the agents on the detail, and Jack saw Price and the other two hostages clench their left fists briefly.
Jack crept out from the building as slowly as he could hoping to make eye contact with Sam. A minute later her eyes connected with his across the distance that separated them. Using hand signals, Jack briefly informed Sam of where they stood. A few surreptitious hand signals back from Sam acknowledged the information and told him to wait.
"Wait?" Clark questioned. "Wait for what?"
"Sam's got a plan," Jack informed the other man unsurprised that he had understood. Into his borrowed radio Jack said, "Price, I need you to key your radio so I can hear what they're saying." The senior detail agent clenched her left fist in reply. A moment later, Jack heard his wife's voice taunting the Goa'uld. Jack felt a knot begin to form in his stomach as he listened.
"Jack, she isn't thinking of doing what I think she is?" his father-in-law asked via the radio. It took Jack only a split second to remember that Jacob's hearing was more acute than a normal human because of his blending with Selmak. He would have no trouble hearing the conversation between the Goa'uld and his daughter.
"Yeah, I think she is," O'Neill agreed as the knot in his stomach tighten further.
"You're a bad influence, Jack" the voice on the radio chided. "She never would have done something this crazy before she met you."
"Me?!" Jack sputtered. "Oh, no...I don't get the blame for this. This is a case of the apple not falling far from the tree."
"What are we going to do?" Jacob asked.
"Only thing we can do, Jacob" Jack answered. "Follow her lead."