Hell, Rewritten pt2
O'Neill handed Terrin back to Ramah and bolted for the stairway, beating the younger man to the top easily by taking the steps two at a time.
Lambert had his gear laid out in one corner of the room with bits and pieces of electronic equipment scattered everywhere and the outer cover off the Sat phone. He was listening excitedly through his earpiece and jotting down notes. The Colonel crouched beside him and touched his shoulder to let him know he was near. The young man looked up and nodded, then quickly completed the note he was scribbling.
"Sir, it's a recorded message, but it's specifically for us." His voice was full of relief. "Apparently they've been looking for us all this time, Major Carter doesn't give up does she?"
O'Neill grinned. "No, she doesn't. What have you got?"
Lambert handed over the pad and pointed out what he'd written. "They've been using my attempts to get this thing to work to triangulate our position. They've got it narrowed down but really don't have a fix on us yet. They just know we're way too far into the city."
The Colonel nodded. Now that was an understatement.
"They've honed in on the frequency I've been using and we should be able to talk to a real person soon." His attention was pulled away by a transmission coming through and his hand subconsciously went to the earpiece, pressing it more firmly into place. His eyes fell as he listened intently, and then rose to meet the Colonel's. "Yes. Yes, I read you. He's here, hang on just a sec." He removed the headset and handed it to the Colonel.
"O'Neill."
"Colonel?" There was quite a bit of static but the voice was unmistakable and he grinned, it was Carter. "Great to hear your voice, Sir!"
"Ditto, Major. Good work. Both you and Lambert need to get medals if we get out of this. I don't suppose General Pike or any other Commanders are there?"
"No, we're here at Al-Jab. And the CO is being notified as we speak. My immediate CO is Colonel Wilkes, he should be here in a few minutes."
"Roger. I gather you have a pretty good idea where we are by now. How close are we to the line?"
She knew he had figured out his team was likely right in the line of fire of the advancing Coalition Forces and he was right. "Smack in the middle, Sir. Colonel Wilkes is here, go ahead."
There was a slight change in the level of static and O'Neill surmised they had him on a speaker. "Colonel Wilkes. How's it goin?"
"Despite having a borderline insubordinate Major on my hands, pretty good. They're getting your coordinates now but I think we both already know you're not exactly in an accessible location."
"Yeah, but we're secure for the moment- even had some real food. If we have to, we're prepped to move out tonight."
The General came in just in time to hear O'Neill's last statement. "Colonel, General Osborne here, don't start thinking about going anywhere just yet. The front has moved up more quickly than we'd thought it would. The best thing you can do is sit tight, as long as you're secure. It's gonna be a bit busy around here for the next several hours so don't expect another contact for a while."
"Yes, Sir. We'll be all right. We're among friends."
The General spoke to the others in the room, verifying they had the team's coordinates mapped. "Colonel, stay sharp. If there's any change be prepared to move fast. We'll touch base in four hours if the connection stays up. Good luck."
O'Neill acknowledged the orders and handed the headset back to Lambert. "It's all yours. Do whatever you have to and keep this thing working."
O'Neill returned to the lower floor and spoke with 'Mama' about the group staying a bit longer than was originally planned and found she was surprised he had even considered leaving. She was more than aware of the position he and his men were in so far behind enemy lines. She accepted it as something that couldn't be helped, a fact of the state of war.
The first siren went off only a few minutes later. Corbin was conversing with one of the older children and learned the adjacent building had a large cellar. The women were afraid to go there since they had been trapped underground once and didn't want to repeat the mistake. O'Neill convinced them it would be for the best and ordered the team to split up. Half would gather up their gear and the rest would assist the women and children to gather whatever they needed and get it to the protected location.
Lambert was sure the Sat phone wouldn't work underground and refused to leave. Tolbert considered forcing the issue but was given a respite when O'Neill showed up. He sent Azir back to his mother with Tolbert and took a seat on one of the cots, he wasn't about to let one of his men stay in a dangerous situation alone.
O'Neill's radio cracked to life. "Colonel?" It was Corbin's voice. "We're all settled in, Sir. Are you coming?"
"Negative, Major. Lambert and I are baby-sitting the equipment up here. Stay put."
A few hours later the sirens were still intermittently blaring. There had been a couple of bomb hits but nothing close by, which may or may not have been a good thing. If the bombing runs were suspended it may have been due to the proximity of Coalition Forces, but if that were the case, the possibility of confrontations on the ground would be high.
Another hour passed and the sounds of gunfire and mortar explosions could be heard over the alarms. Since they weren't going to the war, it evidently was coming to them.
Carter was worried but not so much that she'd neglect her duties and made herself useful scanning incoming data files. All the reports showed the fighting was escalating far beyond anything they'd seen to this point. Thousands of Iraqi soldiers had been dispatched from their positions north and east of Baghdad. The northern front was left all but open to the Kurds out of Turkey; apparently Saddam was more worried about the Americans and Brits. If Charlie had the location right, O'Neill and his team were in the thick of it.
Then one piece of information made her heart skip a beat. The Generals had decided ground losses would be unacceptable with the great increase in Iraqi troops present. They were going to pull back from the front and send in bombers then return and retake the area. It would take several hours to implement, and the bombing runs would continue well into the morning. She immediately went to the Communications Center with the intent of contacting O'Neill and giving him a heads up but Wilkes stepped in and stopped her.
"Sir? Colonel O'Neill really needs to know this. His entire team could be wiped out."
"I can't let you call him. Not right now. You know that. We're on blackout except for coded transmissions. This is a major change in our tactics and it is vital the plan succeeds. We've got his position, and the bombs won't be dropped there."
"Right." She snorted. "And what if they had to move? And if they are in the same location, how long will it take the Iraqis to figure out we're purposefully avoiding a particular area and investigate to find out why?"
He placed one hand on each of her shoulders, "I know, Major. But we can't do anything right now. Not even contact them. Why don't you go get some rest? In the morning we'll see. I'll talk to the General and suggest we move O'Neill's team up a notch on the Search and Rescue roster."
She had to agree a little rest might give her a fresh perspective and left for her quarters. When she arrived the duty officer handed her a message, Ian wanted her to call him as soon as she got in.
The only available phone was a community use one in the officer's lounge so she plopped down in a chair beside it and dialed the number. A panting 'hello' the other end made her take notice.
"Ian, what's wrong?"
"Major Carter, we got a transmission from O'Neill's communications man- it was pretty garbled but I'm sure he said they were going to move, their position was compromised."
She closed her eyes and took in the news. The one thing she most feared had happened and she already knew Wilkes' answer to it. She thanked him for the information and added, "It's okay. I already discussed the possibility with Colonel Wilkes. I've got some things to do right now, I'll be in touch." She hung up before he could protest.
Instead of lying down she decided to borrow a Jeep and drive just a short ways from the base to clear her head.
Forty-five minutes later she found herself at Al-Salem Airfield, where O'Neill's team was based, and less than forty miles from the Iraqi border. Not that it mattered much anymore; Coalition Forces had taken control of the area past the border for well over a hundred miles.
She sat at the side of the road, just inside the gate and wondered what she could do. A thought suddenly struck her like a bolt out of the blue. There was one person who had been a member of the original team who wasn't with O'Neill and out of reach right now. Captain Hastings, the helicopter pilot, O'Neill had hand picked the man for the original mission so his credentials were above scrutiny as far as she was concerned. If he weren't already on a mission he'd help in any way he could, or at least be a willing ear to her concerns.
She knew she'd find Hastings either hanging around the Mess Hall or sacked out in bed and opted for the 'awake' version first. Even though the base was not the size of Al Jaber, the Mess had it's own parking lot as did most of the larger buildings. Even though it was early evening the lot was nearly empty.
She pulled up close and turned off the ignition. The end of the runway was just visible from where she'd stopped and she sat still a minute to watch three large planes taking off in rapid succession. They weren't bombers, more likely support aircraft for the Coalition Forces that were camped far into Iraqi territory. She noted there were several helicopters sitting near their respective hangars, apparently not needed just yet until the ground assault was underway.
Her face and neck felt dusty from the ride out and she ran her fingers through her hair and wished for a ball cap. Not standard issue with dress blues but she'd come to like wearing one through all her exploits with SG-1. The front room of the Officers' Mess doubled as a recreation room complete with two large television sets, one at either end of the room. The place was much more crowded with people than she expected; it seemed every off duty person was there watching one of the news broadcasts currently tuned on the TV screens. She'd forgotten how privileged she was to get as much information on the war as she did. These soldiers didn't have that edge and the satellite broadcasts were often more up-to-date than what filtered on down to them through command.
A few airmen turned in her direction when she entered but they were more interested in the news footage; all except one, that is.
Hastings recognized her immediately and stood to his feet, waving her over. She joined him at a table with six other men, all pilots or mechanics she presumed. The ground crews and flight crews were often a very tight knit group, taking responsibility for their assigned aircraft.
He introduced her and then leaned back in his chair, "What are you doing out here, Major?"
"I have a problem and I thought you might be able to help me."
He gave her a half-cocked grin, "Me help you? Ma'am, if you don't mind me saying so, you are a person who has more answers than I will ever have questions. I doubt there's anything I could do to help you."
She smiled at his relaxed manner, she knew why O'Neill liked this man; he wasn't pretentious in any way. "Not me personally, but there might be something you can do for Colonel O'Neill."
At the mention of that name his demeanor changed in an instant from light amusement to deadly serious. "What's happened?"
He certainly wasn't one to beat around the bush. She made a quick scan of the room before answering, "I've got a Jeep outside, you want to go for a drive?"
He switched back to his lighter mood for a moment, "With you, Major? Anytime."
She flipped him the keys as they exited the building, "Find a quiet spot, Okay?"
Once in the passenger seat she pulled out her ever-present laptop and turned it on. In the five minutes it took to drive out to an empty hangar she'd brought up everything she wanted to show him, and when the vehicle came to a stop she turned it sideways on her lap so he could see the screen. The first image was a map of Iraq.
"What I am about to reveal to you is classified and I do not have any authorization whatsoever to divulge the information." She looked into his eyes and paused, waiting for his reaction.
Hastings nodded and said, "I understand." Carter took a breath and pointed to an uneven red line drawn west and south of Baghdad.
"Our forces advanced to here and met extreme resistance. The Iraqis didn't outnumber us but there were far more of them than we predicted. A new tactic has been set in motion to counter them. Our troops were pulled back and now a series of bombing runs are scheduled to go all night to clear the area for them to retake it in the morning."
"Sounds like a good plan, so what's wrong?"
She switched to the next view, which was a close up of one section. "O'Neill was here." She pointed to a spot on the map. "His team was pinned down, and he was ordered to stay put if possible. The bombers were given the coordinates and instructed to stay clear of that location but-" She blew out a deep breath, "The Colonel's location was secure and they would have been all right, but the last word we got was that something happened and they had to move. We don't know where he is and he doesn't even know the bombers are coming."
Hastings frowned, "Major, I really don't think I can do anything, I mean as far as getting a Helio or two into the air on short notice, that's no problem. The General has been pretty lenient with rescue missions; I guess we kinda blew his mind with that big one we pulled. It's just, where would we go? If we don't have coordinates we're stuck."
Her head dropped, but not in defeat. "I have an idea about that." Hastings was all ears.
"Everyone on the team is carrying a pocket radio. Standard issue. If we can get close enough we can contact him."
The pilot made a face, "You know they're limited to a mile or two."
"Yeah, we'd have to get pretty close, but I know where they started from and how much time has passed. I can estimate how far they'd get on foot traveling through debris and trying to stay out of sight. I think it's worth a shot." Her eyes belied the calm voice with which she spoke.
Hastings suddenly understood. "They won't let you go will they? They've got a war to carry on and they're willing to allow O'Neill and his team to become casualties." His head fell back against the seat. "Major, they 're not bad men, the Generals. But they have a really huge picture to deal with."
She was sure he was going to refuse to help.
"So." He paused and looked her straight in the eye. "That's why they give some decision-making power to officers lower down the ranks. Such as search and rescue to a protected area."
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to grasp his meaning.
He pointed to the spot on the map where the bombers were told to avoid. "It seems to me, that section of the front line has been designated 'protected', at least from friendly fire, if you know what I mean. If that's the target pick up zone, I have standing orders to go."
He was stretching his 'standing orders' to the limit and she knew it but didn't care one whit. She could have burst at that moment but settled for jumping up so quickly he had to grab her laptop to save it from flying onto the floor. "Can we go now? It has to be soon. I don't think they'll get far but if we delay, it will make them that much harder to find." The words tumbled out of her mouth. "And Captain, I'm going with you."
He shook his head and grinned. "Major, if you have half the tenacity of your Colonel, believe me, I would not presume to try to stop you."
Lambert was furious; the equipment he worked so hard to get working was trashed. Several hours after their initial contact with the Communications Center, a whole brigade of Republican Guard showed up in their vicinity. O'Neill made the decision to move out before they were found. The Lieutenant was able to just make one last contact before a grenade was lobbed in the window. His CO had spotted it long before he did and literally dragged the young man to the stairway, leaving all the equipment to be destroyed.
They hurried to meet the others and while the Iraqi soldiers were checking into the results of their handiwork, O'Neill's team was led away by the women. The cellar they were in was connected to two others by underground tunnels and once they were at the farthest point they had no choice but to go to the surface.
This time the entire group covered up with loose robes. Not quite Birkas, but definitely less conspicuous than their uniforms. Their packs were a bigger problem. They had to leave them behind with much of their equipment. O'Neill opted in favor of defense and ordered them to load up all the arms and munitions in any sack or carrying bag they could find. The women packed up the water containers and first aid supplies in addition to their own their own rolled up blankets and small packs of personal items.
The children were surprisingly silent; this was not the first time they'd had to flee and even the youngest ones seemed to instinctively be quiet.
The group traveled quickly, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, O'Neill allowed the old woman to lead, but stayed close by her side, frequently offering his hand to help her over rough areas. They intended to keep moving as long as they were able but after two hours the children were becoming restless and the women obviously tired. O'Neill figured they had gone barely four miles.
The old woman stopped for just a moment and sat on a low wall surrounding what looked like a market area. The Colonel took the opportunity to check all of his men and have a look at the women as well. They were all exhausted.
He returned and sat beside their leader, taking her hand. "Mama, my men were able to rest and can keep moving but the women cannot. Is there somewhere you can take them nearby? My men and I will go on, it will be safer for you if we're not together anyway. If we're found-"
She turned her hand over and clutched his tightly. "No, Colonel Jack, it would not be more safe, they will know what we have done. We have made a choice, all of us, I want my grandson to grow up and have children, if he must do it in a country not of his birth, then so be it. We must all stay together, I will show you where we can go."
He smiled at the name she'd used for him and wondered how she came up with it, he didn't recall giving her any name other than O'Neill. Her sincerity touched his heart and he nodded silently, agreeing to her wishes, and then helped her to her feet. She pointed down a wide street to the north, and led him around a corner to see the way more clearly. "There is a house of worship there, not far. It has a large underground space with several rooms. There is a tall tower as well, you may be able to use it as a vantage point."
"Mama, if I didn't know better I'd say you have some military training." She blushed and playfully slapped his hand.
Just then two Iraqi soldiers stepped out of the shadows and waved their guns at the group of women and robed men, shouting for them to submit. O'Neill heard the commotion and ran back to the corner of the building where he crouched and peered around it. "Dammit!" They'd been found after all.
He had no choice but to take them out. Even though gunfire would surely bring more soldiers it might buy them a little time. It was the best he could hope for. He could feel the old woman's eyes on his back; she too, knew what must be done.
Without a moment of hesitation he fired two shots in rapid succession, expertly hitting one man in the head and the other in the chest. Both fell to the ground, the first already dead. The women shocked their American 'protectors' by bashing in the head of the second man with a couple of large rocks they picked up.
O'Neill glanced at Mama, then turned and ran to his team giving orders in a hushed tone. "Hide the bodies and take whatever weapons they have. There's a church down the road this way, we'll have to make a stand there. Move, now."
Hastings got out of the Jeep and motioned for Major Carter to follow him into the hangar. Once there he went on in to the office and started making phone calls. Whoever he was talking to, Carter noticed he didn't hold back one bit, he told them exactly what they planned to do and what he needed. When he got off the phone he said to her, "You're lucky we haven't been called out lately, Search and Rescue One is geared up and standing by, takeoff in sixty minutes." He wagged a pen in her direction, "If you're coming along we need to find you some appropriate clothing."
She looked down and grimaced, she'd totally forgotten she was wearing a skirt uniform, standard for the Communications Center.
"One of the crews has a Latino navigator who's just a kid, he's not much bigger than you. I think we could steal a flight suit from them. C'mon, let's go."
Thirty minutes later Hastings and Carter arrived at a hangar in the middle of a long row. He parked the Jeep and motioned for her to get out. There were three helicopters on the tarmac and men were busily performing their pre-flight checks.
Carter grabbed the Captains arm, "There are three of them. I thought we were going alone."
"You're kidding me, right? Go into hostile territory alone?"
She looked back at him sheepishly. Obviously the go-it-alone-and-come-back-in-one-piece attitude around the SGC had gotten under her skin. She should have known better and felt naïve for thinking this would be a quick little low profile mission. Hastings pointed to the helicopter with a large red cross on the side. "This is a standard setup for search and rescue, the armament is minimal, but there's plenty of room and if anyone is injured we'll have everything we need."
"But these-" He swung his arm toward the other two aircraft, "are state of the art AH-64D Apache Attacks, just upgraded and fully fitted out. They've got sixteen Hellfire missiles each plus a 30 millimeter Chain Gun. We're not planning on getting into a conflict, but if the situation arises, you're gonna be glad these babies are backing us up. Come on, I'll introduce you to the pilots."
As they walked over she couldn't help but ask him what he had to do to make this happen. "Joe, you can't tell me you have enough authority to order all this."
"You're right. I had to run it past my CO, but it wasn't a problem. You'll never guess who he served with about twelve years ago." His eyes slid toward her to see her expression. "A certain brash young Major named O'Neill. He gets around doesn't he?"
Her jaw dropped. Maybe it wasn't such an odd thing that a number of high-ranking officers gave support to O'Neill so easily, he seemed to have friends everywhere.
O'Neill's team found their new accommodations acceptable and much more roomy than the last place. The women used a small back room as a sleeping area and put all the children to bed. O'Neill left Tuck and Lambert to stay while the rest of them scouted out the building. The old woman was right about the tower; it reached high above the rooftops of all the nearby buildings and made a great lookout.
After checking their radios, Tolbert and Mitchell were left to stay on sentry duty. O'Neill and Corbin continued the survey of the main floor but found nothing of interest except more blankets and several terra-cotta jugs of water. They carried what they could to the cellar and handed them over to the women.
While they settled in O'Neill took a few minutes to relax. It would likely be quite a while before they could rest again if the Iraqis came around.
He tried to focus on the present circumstances but kept drifting off to thoughts of the SGC. Oddly enough he missed the place. With all the strange things that went on there, it was still home to him. He missed the people, so different yet so much the same as here, good people, trying to accomplish a worthy and honorable goal.
His pensiveness must have showed because presently the old woman came over and eased herself down to a blanket beside him. Her knees creaked as she lowered herself, but when he raised a hand to protest, she stopped him. "The getting down is easy, Colonel. You can help me when I want to get up."
After settling herself against the wall as comfortably as she could she said, "Tell me about her."
O'Neill looked at her with a hint of surprise on his face, "Who?"
"Your wife."
"Oh, uh, not married. I mean, I was, but not anymore." Sara had been the furthest thing from his mind.
"Do you still love her?"
Despite the personal nature of the question he answered. "We're still friends, but we've both moved on. Why are you asking me this?"
She clasped her hand over his and leaned in closer, "It seemed you were thinking about someone. Am I wrong?"
The relative anonymity of the situation made him suddenly able to voice the truth. "No, Mama, you're not. There is someone I care for very much. I miss her."
"She is in America?"
"No, actually she's here. In Kuwait rather, she's in the Air Force, too."
The sounds of sirens and explosions cut their conversation short. O'Neill was at once back to his military alertness and rose to his feet. He reached a hand down to the old woman. "I think you should go back to the others."
She nodded in agreement and let him help her up. Before going she hugged him tightly and said, "Be careful, Colonel Jack. We are in your hands."
O'Neill thumbed his radio, "Tolbert, report!" He could barely hear any reply over the sirens wailing and cursed under his breath. He quickly dug out his earpiece and fitted it into place.
"T, negative copy, repeat."
"Sir, our bombers are in the air. Not close yet. They're hitting to the south and east of our position."
"Any sign of ground forces?"
"Negative, Sir."
"Stay put for now. If those bombs start coming this way, get out of there. Understood?"
Tolbert replied in the affirmative and the radio went silent. O'Neill headed to the back to get the rest of his team up and moving. This night was just getting started.
In an hour the three helicopters were in the air making good time into Iraqi airspace. Baghdad was about 250 miles from the base and their target area was just to the southwest. S&R One was sandwiched between the Attacks giving it the best cover. Amazingly they went nearly all the way without ground resistance.
When they were within a mile of the targeted coordinates Hastings gave Carter a sign. She nodded and pressed the 'talk' button on her handheld radio. "Colonel O'Neill. Come in. Colonel O'Neill. This is Carter. Come in."
When there was no response her heart sank. She knew they'd moved, but how far and in which direction? Hastings acknowledged the shake of her head and turned back to the pilot. After a short exchange, which included all three pilots he directed his attention back to her. "Major, it seems there are significant ground forces to the east and north of here. The consensus is that a rescue attempt there would not be successful. We'll be heading due west in a moment. I suggest you continue to attempt to make contact every half-mile or so."
She nodded, trying to look grateful that they weren't just going to turn back right now. From here on out, they'd be defying orders, she knew every one of the airmen would be acutely aware of that fact and wondered if Hastings' CO had factored in the possibility of them straying wide from the pick up zone. If he was anything like O'Neill's other friends, it wouldn't be a problem.
As they veered away from the 'safe zone' it became clear the survival of O'Neill's team would be nothing short of a miracle. As far as they could see were the ragged shells of buildings. Not a single block had escaped at least some damage and the clouds of smoke and dust in the air were constantly limiting their vision.
When Hastings turned and informed Carter they were coming up on the ten-mile mark she still had not made a contact. It didn't really surprise her though, she didn't think they'd have gone five miles, let alone ten and was glad they were turning back for another sweep, this time a mile north of the first run.
When they got back to the pick up zone she had to admit she was really worrying. What if their radios weren't functioning? Or worse, what if they'd gone somewhere else altogether?" she shook off her pessimism and tapped Hastings on the shoulder.
"We're going another mile further to the north, right?" He nodded. "Okay, only don't go the whole ten miles this time. There's no way they could have gotten that far. Turn around at five."
Hastings opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and nodded again. He spoke into his headset and explained Carter's request to the pilot, who she could see nod in answer.
On their third leg of the grid she got a static-filled open channel when she called for O'Neill. Hastings had the pilot pull back on the throttle to give her a chance to try it again. She lost the signal completely and made a circular motion in the air with her finger to Hastings. He had the pilot turn back and swing out a little further north. It wasn't a problem for the S&R but was playing hell with the larger and somewhat less maneuverable Apaches and Carter made a mental note to thank the pilots for being so accommodating.
Hastings turned to ask if she had any luck yet and was greeted with a million dollars worth of smile. This time Carter heard a scratchy voice and cupped her hand over her earpiece as she listened.
"Carter? Is that you? Where are you?"
Her grin widened, "Look up, Sir."
"You're kidding, right?" O'Neill made a beeline for the nearest doorway and heard the helicopter blades just as he got there. "Sweet."
Hastings switched out his helicopter headset for an earphone to another handheld radio and thumbed the talk button, "O'Neill, where the Hell are you, man?"
"Hastings? They'll let anybody fly these days! You see a church with a steeple? Tolbert, you on frequency? Wave your light."
Carter scanned the area and pointed to a tall bulbous tower ahead of them. At the uppermost level two dark figures could be seen against the dimly lit night sky, both frantically waving lights. At the base of the building she could just make out another light waving from a darkened doorway. "Colonel! We've got you. Anyplace we can set down?"
"Keep going around the other side. We'll light the way." He yelled back to his team to break out whatever light they had and outline the rear courtyard. They were going home. As he ran to the back to prepare the women to move his radio sparked to life again in one ear while the sound of gunfire echoed in the other. He stopped in his tracks and covered the earpiece so he could hear his teammate. Tolbert's voice was fearful, "Sir! The Iraqis! They followed the choppers, they're here!" It was the one bit of news O'Neill hoped he wouldn't receive.
"Which direction?"
"From the south, Sir. Right behind the choppers."
The orders flew out of O'Neill's mouth. "Tolbert, Mitch! Get down here! Tuck! You got those lights up yet? Lambert! Get the women ready to move. Now! Corbin! C-4. Meet me at the east entrance. Move it! Carter, we've got women and children who need a lift out, take them first."
He barely heard her acknowledgement as he raced through the building. His brain was in full ops mode; by the time he met up with Corbin he had a plan.
"How much C-4 have we got?"
"Four large bricks, Sir. If you're looking for a big bang, can do."
O'Neill pointed to a side stairway going up then took two of the bricks and detonators from his 2IC. "We need to blow the tower. Timers on three minutes. Lay the charges on the south side, I don't want it falling into the courtyard."
"Can't those Apache's help us out any?"
"Too close for the missiles." He had another idea. "Carter? You on the ground yet?"
"Almost there Colonel, descending now." Her point was emphasized by a pulsing whooshing noise from behind the structure.
"Good. Can you get those A-tacks on either side of the tower? We'll need cover fire, but not too close. The tower comes down in three minutes. Copy?" As he spoke he waved to Corbin to go and start setting the charges.
"Roger, Sir. Relaying message."
The gunfire was now very close but most of it was directed at the helicopters that were returning it with their rapid-fire 30 millimeters. The positions O'Neill requested them to take turned out to be quite advantageous, they were able to fire at the forward ground advance as well as pivot to either side and hit flanking forces.
The decibel level all throughout the mosque was deafening as the sounds of a small war converged there. From the front and sides the Iraqis were shooting rifles and light anti-aircraft weapons while the Apaches hovered above. They created their own racket in the sounds of their engines and blades punctuated by the rattling firing pattern of the big guns all echoing off the sides of the buildings. From behind, the small courtyard amplified the sound of S&R One on the ground where Tuck and the Lieutenants were herding the women and children rapidly across an open stretch and into the waiting door.
Carter and Hastings were standing outside the helicopter on either side of the opening helping the refugees get in. As the last ones arrived Tuck ordered the airmen to load up as well, then stepped up himself.
Several large blasts rocked the stone structure and the tower fell forward. A plume of dust blew out of the windows and doors facing the courtyard as it came down. The Apache pilots, always ready to improvise took O'Neill's lead and were ready each with one Hellfire missile hot. As the tower blew they lit them off to targets just far enough away to amplify the diversion but not pose any threat to the rescue operation. Carter and Hastings stood open-mouthed at the unexpected display.
Carter's heart lurched in her chest as she realized O'Neill was nowhere to be seen, nor Major Corbin. She took a step away from the helicopter and felt Hastings grab her arm but wrestled it free and glared at him. "Don't." She warned him.
Hastings knew the drill, 'We don't leave anyone behind.' It had been brought home much too recently and with this same Colonel involved, as well. He shook his head in defeat and ordered Tuck and Mitch to hand over their submachine guns, then yelled at the pilot to take off.
He followed Carter away from the swirling dust and handed her a weapon. "Let's go find them."
They were barely into the building when bullets started raining down on them from two sides so they dove for the nearest cover and began to return fire. Some of the Iraqis had evidently escaped the tumbling walls and mortar.
O'Neill and Corbin peered out of a protected doorway at the front of the building's second floor. The battle between the Apaches and the ground was still in full swing. O'Neill spotted a duo of soldiers with missile launchers and shook his head. "Oh, no you don't. Not this time, pal." He pulled out a grenade and lobbed it with his best baseball pitch right at them. The explosion sent them both flying several feet. When no more appeared, he turned his attention elsewhere.
Explosions and gunfire seemed to be coming from everywhere as Corbin spotted a target of his own on the first floor below them. They were firing at someone else on the ground. He was sure the others had gotten off all right and waved to O'Neill.
The Colonel immediately sized up the situation; someone needed help and they were going to get it. He motioned to the best vantage points they could get to and waved Corbin on before going himself. In a few minutes they had flanked the Iraqis and began a barrage of their own.
With four Iraqis down and the others in retreat, the sound had diminished enough for them to hear another unwelcome sound. The Coalition bombers had arrived in the area and were making a run. A single J-Dam fell two blocks away and caused enough of a shockwave to make the still standing walls of the Mosque shake and large pieces of plaster fell away loose.
O'Neill rocked back his head and rolled his eyes. Never a break, it could never be easy. He called to Corbin to follow him down to the lower level. There was enough light to spot two Air Force uniforms slouched against one wall where more debris had fallen in the last shockwave. They each went to one thinking they'd find a team member but were in for a shock. Corbin reached his man first and gasped as he looked into the face of Captain Hastings. He recognized the man immediately and shouted to O'Neill.
The Colonel was busy with his own surprise. He knelt at Carters side and lightly touched her neck, checking for a pulse and feeling her neck before lifting her head and shoulders under his arm. His head was spinning a million miles an hour. What the hell was Carter doing here? Stupid question, coming for him of course, but how did she manage to get herself hurt?
He patted her cheek and called her name several times before getting a response.
"Sir? Colonel? You're all right."
"More than I can say for you right now, Major. Think you can stand?"
She nodded and let him slide his arm down her back to help her up. She swayed a little so he didn't yet release her and started picking bits of plaster out of her hair. "What the hell were you thinking, getting off that chopper?"
She flushed and pulled back regaining her balance and quickly dusted off her uniform. That done, she picked up her weapon and stood up straight. "Sir, we're here to rescue you."
All O'Neill could do was burst out in a laugh. "That I figured out, but I think now we all need a rescue. By the way the Apaches are a nice touch." The remark was punctuated by another explosion. He grabbed Carter's arm and hurried them both out from under the collapsing ceiling.
Outside was far too exposed and once Corbin and Hastings arrived the group made their way through a narrow alley and to the back of an adjacent building. As long as they stayed to the north side it seemed the Iraqis wouldn't spot them. They stopped in the deep shadows of an arched entryway.
O'Neill turned to Carter and Hastings and asked "I suppose you have a plan for getting us out of here?"
Carter for once was lost for words. No she had not planned, she assumed they'd signal a helicopter and get a lift out, but with all the noise their small radios were near useless. Hastings wasn't so reserved as the Major and produced a flare gun from his vest pocket. "Thought this might come in handy."
O'Neill nodded and turned to peer out of their hiding place. He surveyed for possible landing sites and decided there were none on this level. "Unless we can get to a roof I don't think a helicopter will be able to land for us. Any ideas?"
Corbin agreed. "There's a way up over there." He pointed to a stone stairway leading up the exterior of the next building. "It's not very high but the rooftops all seem to be level, might be our best shot."
They moved out toward the stairway up, keeping in the shadows as much as possible, they would soon draw enough attention to themselves when Hastings fired the flare.
The roof was a lot smaller than it looked from the ground but it was flat so it would have to do. From where they stood they could see S&R One hovering back from the firefight and how the two Apaches had pulled away from the Mosque to get a better angle on the ground forces. None of the helicopters were close to their position so O'Neill gave Hastings a go to signal. He could only hope someone was watching for them.
Hastings held the gun at arms length, pointed it straight up, and fired. The flare burst forth from the short barrel with a loud pop and immediately filled the sky with a blinding red-tinged trail of light.
In a split-second one of the Apaches swung around and moved toward their position. The second one adjusted its position to widen their coverage area.
Once in position overhead the helicopter began to descend but before it got very far it pulled back up. A man in the open side door of the helicopter waved his hands back and forth and shook his head, 'no'.
It was too risky for them to land here; they 'd have to go with their second option.
Several harnesses were dropped from above and after Hastings retrieved them, a single winch line was dropped. Each of them strapped on a harness and prepared to be lifted off.
O'Neill insisted Carter go first and under protest she complied. He assured her it wasn't some male gallantry thing, it was just that she'd been the most seriously hurt.
Hastings went next, also under protest but this time was overruled by rank. As the winch dropped for the third time O'Neill and Corbin were forced to drop to the ground to avoid debris from a grenade going off near the corner of the roof. The Iraqis had found them and the tension went up a notch for both men.
O'Neill clipped the line to Corbin's vest while they were still lying down and waved for the pick up to proceed. The winch retracted and the helicopter pulled up and away just slightly to distance themselves from the gunfire below, which was now directed solely at them.
Corbin made it safely aboard and the helicopter had to swing out and around to get in position for O'Neill. This time a mortar shell just missed them. The pilot swung the tail around forcibly to avoid it and the entire craft shuddered in response before stabilizing.
It came in close to drop the line but had to back off when bullets began to pelt the fuselage again. The pilot called to the other two for support.
S&R One had been holding back but now joined the foray with machine gun fire. It's only real weapon to speak of. This time the Apache moved in but not as low as before. The winch was dropped to its full length and hit the roof with a loud thud. O'Neill had been off to the side in the shadows and now dove for it, tossing two grenades over the side of the building as he went. He clipped the line to his vest and stuck his thumb up in the air.
He was jerked unmercifully up into mid air as the helicopter rose and started moving away from the site at full throttle before the winch even started to reel in. The explosion from the grenades gave only a momentary respite from the ground assault and another mortar lit the sky. Bullets continued to whiz by O'Neill and he ducked his head into his shoulders for minimal protection knowing full well he was a wide-open target.
The second Apache moved in a wide arc to the north and then turned back to the base of the buildings and fired off two Hellfire missiles. It then turned to the southeast and joined the other two helicopters already on their way home. Behind them the remaining walls of the Mosque exploded and it fell in upon itself, completely destroyed.
It was quite dark away from the battle but long before Carter could see O'Neill's face she knew something was wrong. He wasn't clutching onto the rescue line or even ducking his head against the wind. His body was completely limp, supported only by the single hook at the end of the line. She presumed he'd been knocked unconscious by the severe jerk up from the ground.
As he neared the opening Tuck and Tolbert leaned out to pull him in. They were already a mile from the Mosque when they managed to drag the unconscious man aboard.
Unfortunately they weren't on the rescue helicopter so medical supplies were only the bare necessity standard issue. One of the benches along the side of the helicopter was vacated and O'Neill laid out on it. Carter knelt beside him and started to loosen his clothing to look for any signs of wounding. She berated herself for not at least grabbing an additional med kit or getting Lambert to come along, he was their medic and the best suited to deal with this kind of thing after all. She should have realized at least one of them might be injured. Why did it always have to be him?
Tuck watched her struggling with the clasps on the vest and came over to help her. He saw it was not due to any lack of aptitude on her part but rather because the whole front of the vest was saturated with sticky blood. She pulled her hands back and gasped at it. In the darkness she'd assumed it was dirt or sweat or even mud, but not this.
She let Tuck finish the task and called to one of the airmen, "We need a med kit! Anything will do!"
A young man jumped up in response and opened an overhead compartment, pulling out a standard kit and a large pack of extra bandages. He didn't wait for the Major to take them but laid them out on the floor and started tearing open wrappers for her. With Tuck doing the harder task of getting the clothing out of the way, Carter was able to focus on the two gushing bullet holes in O'Neill's chest and hold pressure to them. She could barely feel his chest move under her hands and at one point had to pause to check for a pulse, fearful she might not find one.
It was there, though not strong, and far too rapid. She recognized the sign of shock setting in and cursed under her breath. Corbin leaned over her to get a better look and saw her reaction. "It's bad, isn't it?"
She nodded. "He's lost a lot of blood. Can you raise his legs up any? We're supposed to do that for shock." Her words felt hollow in her own ears. He complied and then found a blanket and tucked it in around O'Neill's body. He remembered from somewhere that a patient in shock should be kept warm, too.
Carter thanked him and rechecked the dressings. The blood had all but stopped flowing, at least on the outside, and his pulse slowed a little. They were doing what they could but his only real hope was the base and it's wealth of medical technology.
Once they crossed the Coalition Front line the three helicopters touched down at a makeshift base camp. O'Neill was rushed to the medical unit and stabilized for transport to Kuwait. Carter and the others tried to stay near but were promptly told they were interfering with his care and forced to keep their distance. All they could do was pace around at the tent entrance.
The body that was moved out of the ward and loaded up on the rescue helicopter was vastly different than the one they wheeled in. He was now surrounded by an assortment of medical devices and tubes including an oxygen mask, two IV's, portable heart and blood pressure monitors and the worst thing to see, a large-bore tube coming out of the right side of his chest. His lung had collapsed and had to be re-expanded so he could breathe. It was clamped off at the moment but was still gruesome to see.
The helicopter had been freshly refueled and checked while O'Neill was being seen and was now ready to fly again. He'd be taken directly to the hospital at Kuwait City where several ICU nurses were prepared to meet them at the helipad. Carter assumed at least one or two of them would be allowed to accompany O'Neill on the final leg of his journey but was stopped from doing so by the Base Commander.
The whole affair was up for scrutiny and O'Neill's team, Carter and Hastings were to report to Al-Jaber at once for debriefing. The women and children who accompanied them were now considered refugees and would be 'processed' as such. It meant food, water and decent living conditions, but not freedom. The only available transport was a large troop carrier class helicopter and everyone; Iraqi and American alike were loaded up for the trip to Kuwait.
O'Neill's flight was high priority and the speed of the aircraft was not curtailed in any way, but the troop transport carrying the others was much slower and would take nearly twice as long to cover the same distance. That is if they were going to the same destination, which they weren't. The refugees were being housed at Camp Doha, an army base east of Al-Jaber. That would be the first stop and then Carter and the others would be taken on to the airbase, presumably to be debriefed although she was sure she and Hastings were in for an earful from General Osborne at least.
She sat scrunched up in a corner of the cargo area and considered her actions. It really had been worth it in the end, and no American lives were lost. It was not always a dependable gauge of success but still made her feel better. Every one of those men had volunteered as well, Hastings made sure of that. They all knew what they were getting into and made the decision without pressure.
As she sat lost in thought Corbin made his way over to her and said. "How are you holding up, Major?"
"Well, considering I might be court-marshaled, not too bad."
"You don't really think it will come to that." He took a seat beside her.
"Maybe not, but the General is gonna be pretty mad, although I technically wasn't AWOL until I didn't show up at work this morning." He didn't respond and she realized he wasn't even paying attention. "Major, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
He jerked his head back to her, caught. "Um, Mama, the old woman who came with us. She wants to talk to you. She doesn't speak any English so I'll have to translate."
"What could she possibly want of me?"
He blushed. "She has this idea that you and Colonel O'Neill are involved."
"We're not. It's just not something that- what did he tell her?" Her eyes narrowed.
"I don't think much really, not about that, but they talked quite a bit over the past few days, she really likes the Colonel. You could humor her, make her feel better about having to go to the camp."
It wasn't until then Carter understood there was something more between these men and the Iraqi women they'd 'liberated.' She could tell Corbin was genuinely concerned about their welfare.
He leaned back against the wall and spoke again. "It was the boy, I think."
She looked at him; he'd completely lost her now.
He blushed again when he realized he'd spoken that thought out loud. "Sorry. Um, there was a kid, a little boy. We were trapped in a cellar while the building collapsed over us and the mother was hurt. The Colonel actually shielded her from the worst of the debris and picked up her kid and held him like he was his own and it was the most natural thing in the world. He still gave us orders and saw that the mom was tended to, but he held that kid." He rubbed his hand over his face, lost in the memory. "Kinda reminded me of something. I know it sounds stupid but those women saw it too, and in a split second they trusted him. They hid us and fed us for two days without question. I never woulda believed it."
"So? You were Americans. There are a lot of sympathizers out there."
"Uh, uh. It was more than that."
Carter grinned, "What? She thinks he's some kind of hero? Sure I'll talk to her."
Corbin slapped his hand to his forehead, "She didn't say that! And neither did I, just forget it. Come on."
She followed behind him suppressing a case of the giggles as they moved forward in the cabin to the old woman's location. Corbin spoke to the woman and motioned for Carter to sit across from her. So far the only part Carter understood was her name.
The old woman, Mama, took her hands and smiled. She began to speak in the throaty Arabic language Carter had heard so much of the past few weeks but was never able to comprehend.
Corbin listened for a minute then began to speak, never taking his eyes off the old woman's face. "She wants you to know how grateful she is that you brought the helicopters to save them. She knows the only one you really wanted to save was O'Neill, and the rest of us were a lesser concern."
Carter bristled. "That's not true! Sure, I've known the Colonel longer than any of you, but it was the whole team in trouble, not just him."
He glanced at her and rapidly translated it back into Arabic, eliciting a grin from the woman. She spoke again. "She says you should not be ashamed that he was your reason for coming. You should, ah, treasure, I think, what you have with him. The future is uncertain, we must all live for today."
"Sounds like an oldies recording."
Corbin looked at her, suddenly irate. "Major, this woman has lived through Saddam's entire regime, she just might have a point. Who knows how many loved ones she's lost. The fact she can even imagine a future is amazing."
Chastised, Carter swallowed and bit her lower lip.
The old woman didn't get the words but understood Corbin's tone and raised a hand to hush him. She offered a few harsh tones of her own then turned back to Carter and continued. Corbin translated again.
"She knows what happened to him and isn't surprised he was the only one to be seriously hurt. She thinks he makes a habit of putting others first and thinks its time someone did the same for him."
A short conversation passed between Corbin and the old woman then he turned back to Carter and shrugged. "She says you know what she means."
She had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. These last several weeks had distanced her from her intended career path and had been, in a way, refreshing. Instead of being to totally wrapped up in advanced technology and saving the world, she'd focused on a very small part of it, and her eyes were opened to the real 'big picture.' It wasn't about saving the world, it was about people, and making just one life better impacted the whole.
She scrubbed her hands through her hair. O'Neill already knew this, that's why he was so adamant to protect all of them. From Catherine Langford all the way through the many planets they'd traveled to, even when they didn't need it, and especially when they didn't want it, he was determined to make that small difference. Maybe that's why the arrogance of the Tollan's irritated him so much; with all their superiority he could see their individual lives were no better. Probably the only race he felt were truly living up to their potential were the Nox. Even the Ancient's had their issues.
She had to agree, the quiet strength of Lya and her people was unrivalled except-" Her thoughts were interrupted when the old woman grasped her hands again.
She didn't speak but only held on tightly. Carter responded by squeezing her hands in return and smiled. Point made. Her whole world had revolved around the SGC for many years now, and though she admitted it outwardly only once, the center point of it all was Jack O'Neill. Through all this time she'd managed to keep her distance. Perhaps it was time for a change.
O'Neill handed Terrin back to Ramah and bolted for the stairway, beating the younger man to the top easily by taking the steps two at a time.
Lambert had his gear laid out in one corner of the room with bits and pieces of electronic equipment scattered everywhere and the outer cover off the Sat phone. He was listening excitedly through his earpiece and jotting down notes. The Colonel crouched beside him and touched his shoulder to let him know he was near. The young man looked up and nodded, then quickly completed the note he was scribbling.
"Sir, it's a recorded message, but it's specifically for us." His voice was full of relief. "Apparently they've been looking for us all this time, Major Carter doesn't give up does she?"
O'Neill grinned. "No, she doesn't. What have you got?"
Lambert handed over the pad and pointed out what he'd written. "They've been using my attempts to get this thing to work to triangulate our position. They've got it narrowed down but really don't have a fix on us yet. They just know we're way too far into the city."
The Colonel nodded. Now that was an understatement.
"They've honed in on the frequency I've been using and we should be able to talk to a real person soon." His attention was pulled away by a transmission coming through and his hand subconsciously went to the earpiece, pressing it more firmly into place. His eyes fell as he listened intently, and then rose to meet the Colonel's. "Yes. Yes, I read you. He's here, hang on just a sec." He removed the headset and handed it to the Colonel.
"O'Neill."
"Colonel?" There was quite a bit of static but the voice was unmistakable and he grinned, it was Carter. "Great to hear your voice, Sir!"
"Ditto, Major. Good work. Both you and Lambert need to get medals if we get out of this. I don't suppose General Pike or any other Commanders are there?"
"No, we're here at Al-Jab. And the CO is being notified as we speak. My immediate CO is Colonel Wilkes, he should be here in a few minutes."
"Roger. I gather you have a pretty good idea where we are by now. How close are we to the line?"
She knew he had figured out his team was likely right in the line of fire of the advancing Coalition Forces and he was right. "Smack in the middle, Sir. Colonel Wilkes is here, go ahead."
There was a slight change in the level of static and O'Neill surmised they had him on a speaker. "Colonel Wilkes. How's it goin?"
"Despite having a borderline insubordinate Major on my hands, pretty good. They're getting your coordinates now but I think we both already know you're not exactly in an accessible location."
"Yeah, but we're secure for the moment- even had some real food. If we have to, we're prepped to move out tonight."
The General came in just in time to hear O'Neill's last statement. "Colonel, General Osborne here, don't start thinking about going anywhere just yet. The front has moved up more quickly than we'd thought it would. The best thing you can do is sit tight, as long as you're secure. It's gonna be a bit busy around here for the next several hours so don't expect another contact for a while."
"Yes, Sir. We'll be all right. We're among friends."
The General spoke to the others in the room, verifying they had the team's coordinates mapped. "Colonel, stay sharp. If there's any change be prepared to move fast. We'll touch base in four hours if the connection stays up. Good luck."
O'Neill acknowledged the orders and handed the headset back to Lambert. "It's all yours. Do whatever you have to and keep this thing working."
O'Neill returned to the lower floor and spoke with 'Mama' about the group staying a bit longer than was originally planned and found she was surprised he had even considered leaving. She was more than aware of the position he and his men were in so far behind enemy lines. She accepted it as something that couldn't be helped, a fact of the state of war.
The first siren went off only a few minutes later. Corbin was conversing with one of the older children and learned the adjacent building had a large cellar. The women were afraid to go there since they had been trapped underground once and didn't want to repeat the mistake. O'Neill convinced them it would be for the best and ordered the team to split up. Half would gather up their gear and the rest would assist the women and children to gather whatever they needed and get it to the protected location.
Lambert was sure the Sat phone wouldn't work underground and refused to leave. Tolbert considered forcing the issue but was given a respite when O'Neill showed up. He sent Azir back to his mother with Tolbert and took a seat on one of the cots, he wasn't about to let one of his men stay in a dangerous situation alone.
O'Neill's radio cracked to life. "Colonel?" It was Corbin's voice. "We're all settled in, Sir. Are you coming?"
"Negative, Major. Lambert and I are baby-sitting the equipment up here. Stay put."
A few hours later the sirens were still intermittently blaring. There had been a couple of bomb hits but nothing close by, which may or may not have been a good thing. If the bombing runs were suspended it may have been due to the proximity of Coalition Forces, but if that were the case, the possibility of confrontations on the ground would be high.
Another hour passed and the sounds of gunfire and mortar explosions could be heard over the alarms. Since they weren't going to the war, it evidently was coming to them.
Carter was worried but not so much that she'd neglect her duties and made herself useful scanning incoming data files. All the reports showed the fighting was escalating far beyond anything they'd seen to this point. Thousands of Iraqi soldiers had been dispatched from their positions north and east of Baghdad. The northern front was left all but open to the Kurds out of Turkey; apparently Saddam was more worried about the Americans and Brits. If Charlie had the location right, O'Neill and his team were in the thick of it.
Then one piece of information made her heart skip a beat. The Generals had decided ground losses would be unacceptable with the great increase in Iraqi troops present. They were going to pull back from the front and send in bombers then return and retake the area. It would take several hours to implement, and the bombing runs would continue well into the morning. She immediately went to the Communications Center with the intent of contacting O'Neill and giving him a heads up but Wilkes stepped in and stopped her.
"Sir? Colonel O'Neill really needs to know this. His entire team could be wiped out."
"I can't let you call him. Not right now. You know that. We're on blackout except for coded transmissions. This is a major change in our tactics and it is vital the plan succeeds. We've got his position, and the bombs won't be dropped there."
"Right." She snorted. "And what if they had to move? And if they are in the same location, how long will it take the Iraqis to figure out we're purposefully avoiding a particular area and investigate to find out why?"
He placed one hand on each of her shoulders, "I know, Major. But we can't do anything right now. Not even contact them. Why don't you go get some rest? In the morning we'll see. I'll talk to the General and suggest we move O'Neill's team up a notch on the Search and Rescue roster."
She had to agree a little rest might give her a fresh perspective and left for her quarters. When she arrived the duty officer handed her a message, Ian wanted her to call him as soon as she got in.
The only available phone was a community use one in the officer's lounge so she plopped down in a chair beside it and dialed the number. A panting 'hello' the other end made her take notice.
"Ian, what's wrong?"
"Major Carter, we got a transmission from O'Neill's communications man- it was pretty garbled but I'm sure he said they were going to move, their position was compromised."
She closed her eyes and took in the news. The one thing she most feared had happened and she already knew Wilkes' answer to it. She thanked him for the information and added, "It's okay. I already discussed the possibility with Colonel Wilkes. I've got some things to do right now, I'll be in touch." She hung up before he could protest.
Instead of lying down she decided to borrow a Jeep and drive just a short ways from the base to clear her head.
Forty-five minutes later she found herself at Al-Salem Airfield, where O'Neill's team was based, and less than forty miles from the Iraqi border. Not that it mattered much anymore; Coalition Forces had taken control of the area past the border for well over a hundred miles.
She sat at the side of the road, just inside the gate and wondered what she could do. A thought suddenly struck her like a bolt out of the blue. There was one person who had been a member of the original team who wasn't with O'Neill and out of reach right now. Captain Hastings, the helicopter pilot, O'Neill had hand picked the man for the original mission so his credentials were above scrutiny as far as she was concerned. If he weren't already on a mission he'd help in any way he could, or at least be a willing ear to her concerns.
She knew she'd find Hastings either hanging around the Mess Hall or sacked out in bed and opted for the 'awake' version first. Even though the base was not the size of Al Jaber, the Mess had it's own parking lot as did most of the larger buildings. Even though it was early evening the lot was nearly empty.
She pulled up close and turned off the ignition. The end of the runway was just visible from where she'd stopped and she sat still a minute to watch three large planes taking off in rapid succession. They weren't bombers, more likely support aircraft for the Coalition Forces that were camped far into Iraqi territory. She noted there were several helicopters sitting near their respective hangars, apparently not needed just yet until the ground assault was underway.
Her face and neck felt dusty from the ride out and she ran her fingers through her hair and wished for a ball cap. Not standard issue with dress blues but she'd come to like wearing one through all her exploits with SG-1. The front room of the Officers' Mess doubled as a recreation room complete with two large television sets, one at either end of the room. The place was much more crowded with people than she expected; it seemed every off duty person was there watching one of the news broadcasts currently tuned on the TV screens. She'd forgotten how privileged she was to get as much information on the war as she did. These soldiers didn't have that edge and the satellite broadcasts were often more up-to-date than what filtered on down to them through command.
A few airmen turned in her direction when she entered but they were more interested in the news footage; all except one, that is.
Hastings recognized her immediately and stood to his feet, waving her over. She joined him at a table with six other men, all pilots or mechanics she presumed. The ground crews and flight crews were often a very tight knit group, taking responsibility for their assigned aircraft.
He introduced her and then leaned back in his chair, "What are you doing out here, Major?"
"I have a problem and I thought you might be able to help me."
He gave her a half-cocked grin, "Me help you? Ma'am, if you don't mind me saying so, you are a person who has more answers than I will ever have questions. I doubt there's anything I could do to help you."
She smiled at his relaxed manner, she knew why O'Neill liked this man; he wasn't pretentious in any way. "Not me personally, but there might be something you can do for Colonel O'Neill."
At the mention of that name his demeanor changed in an instant from light amusement to deadly serious. "What's happened?"
He certainly wasn't one to beat around the bush. She made a quick scan of the room before answering, "I've got a Jeep outside, you want to go for a drive?"
He switched back to his lighter mood for a moment, "With you, Major? Anytime."
She flipped him the keys as they exited the building, "Find a quiet spot, Okay?"
Once in the passenger seat she pulled out her ever-present laptop and turned it on. In the five minutes it took to drive out to an empty hangar she'd brought up everything she wanted to show him, and when the vehicle came to a stop she turned it sideways on her lap so he could see the screen. The first image was a map of Iraq.
"What I am about to reveal to you is classified and I do not have any authorization whatsoever to divulge the information." She looked into his eyes and paused, waiting for his reaction.
Hastings nodded and said, "I understand." Carter took a breath and pointed to an uneven red line drawn west and south of Baghdad.
"Our forces advanced to here and met extreme resistance. The Iraqis didn't outnumber us but there were far more of them than we predicted. A new tactic has been set in motion to counter them. Our troops were pulled back and now a series of bombing runs are scheduled to go all night to clear the area for them to retake it in the morning."
"Sounds like a good plan, so what's wrong?"
She switched to the next view, which was a close up of one section. "O'Neill was here." She pointed to a spot on the map. "His team was pinned down, and he was ordered to stay put if possible. The bombers were given the coordinates and instructed to stay clear of that location but-" She blew out a deep breath, "The Colonel's location was secure and they would have been all right, but the last word we got was that something happened and they had to move. We don't know where he is and he doesn't even know the bombers are coming."
Hastings frowned, "Major, I really don't think I can do anything, I mean as far as getting a Helio or two into the air on short notice, that's no problem. The General has been pretty lenient with rescue missions; I guess we kinda blew his mind with that big one we pulled. It's just, where would we go? If we don't have coordinates we're stuck."
Her head dropped, but not in defeat. "I have an idea about that." Hastings was all ears.
"Everyone on the team is carrying a pocket radio. Standard issue. If we can get close enough we can contact him."
The pilot made a face, "You know they're limited to a mile or two."
"Yeah, we'd have to get pretty close, but I know where they started from and how much time has passed. I can estimate how far they'd get on foot traveling through debris and trying to stay out of sight. I think it's worth a shot." Her eyes belied the calm voice with which she spoke.
Hastings suddenly understood. "They won't let you go will they? They've got a war to carry on and they're willing to allow O'Neill and his team to become casualties." His head fell back against the seat. "Major, they 're not bad men, the Generals. But they have a really huge picture to deal with."
She was sure he was going to refuse to help.
"So." He paused and looked her straight in the eye. "That's why they give some decision-making power to officers lower down the ranks. Such as search and rescue to a protected area."
Her eyes narrowed as she tried to grasp his meaning.
He pointed to the spot on the map where the bombers were told to avoid. "It seems to me, that section of the front line has been designated 'protected', at least from friendly fire, if you know what I mean. If that's the target pick up zone, I have standing orders to go."
He was stretching his 'standing orders' to the limit and she knew it but didn't care one whit. She could have burst at that moment but settled for jumping up so quickly he had to grab her laptop to save it from flying onto the floor. "Can we go now? It has to be soon. I don't think they'll get far but if we delay, it will make them that much harder to find." The words tumbled out of her mouth. "And Captain, I'm going with you."
He shook his head and grinned. "Major, if you have half the tenacity of your Colonel, believe me, I would not presume to try to stop you."
Lambert was furious; the equipment he worked so hard to get working was trashed. Several hours after their initial contact with the Communications Center, a whole brigade of Republican Guard showed up in their vicinity. O'Neill made the decision to move out before they were found. The Lieutenant was able to just make one last contact before a grenade was lobbed in the window. His CO had spotted it long before he did and literally dragged the young man to the stairway, leaving all the equipment to be destroyed.
They hurried to meet the others and while the Iraqi soldiers were checking into the results of their handiwork, O'Neill's team was led away by the women. The cellar they were in was connected to two others by underground tunnels and once they were at the farthest point they had no choice but to go to the surface.
This time the entire group covered up with loose robes. Not quite Birkas, but definitely less conspicuous than their uniforms. Their packs were a bigger problem. They had to leave them behind with much of their equipment. O'Neill opted in favor of defense and ordered them to load up all the arms and munitions in any sack or carrying bag they could find. The women packed up the water containers and first aid supplies in addition to their own their own rolled up blankets and small packs of personal items.
The children were surprisingly silent; this was not the first time they'd had to flee and even the youngest ones seemed to instinctively be quiet.
The group traveled quickly, keeping to the shadows as much as possible, O'Neill allowed the old woman to lead, but stayed close by her side, frequently offering his hand to help her over rough areas. They intended to keep moving as long as they were able but after two hours the children were becoming restless and the women obviously tired. O'Neill figured they had gone barely four miles.
The old woman stopped for just a moment and sat on a low wall surrounding what looked like a market area. The Colonel took the opportunity to check all of his men and have a look at the women as well. They were all exhausted.
He returned and sat beside their leader, taking her hand. "Mama, my men were able to rest and can keep moving but the women cannot. Is there somewhere you can take them nearby? My men and I will go on, it will be safer for you if we're not together anyway. If we're found-"
She turned her hand over and clutched his tightly. "No, Colonel Jack, it would not be more safe, they will know what we have done. We have made a choice, all of us, I want my grandson to grow up and have children, if he must do it in a country not of his birth, then so be it. We must all stay together, I will show you where we can go."
He smiled at the name she'd used for him and wondered how she came up with it, he didn't recall giving her any name other than O'Neill. Her sincerity touched his heart and he nodded silently, agreeing to her wishes, and then helped her to her feet. She pointed down a wide street to the north, and led him around a corner to see the way more clearly. "There is a house of worship there, not far. It has a large underground space with several rooms. There is a tall tower as well, you may be able to use it as a vantage point."
"Mama, if I didn't know better I'd say you have some military training." She blushed and playfully slapped his hand.
Just then two Iraqi soldiers stepped out of the shadows and waved their guns at the group of women and robed men, shouting for them to submit. O'Neill heard the commotion and ran back to the corner of the building where he crouched and peered around it. "Dammit!" They'd been found after all.
He had no choice but to take them out. Even though gunfire would surely bring more soldiers it might buy them a little time. It was the best he could hope for. He could feel the old woman's eyes on his back; she too, knew what must be done.
Without a moment of hesitation he fired two shots in rapid succession, expertly hitting one man in the head and the other in the chest. Both fell to the ground, the first already dead. The women shocked their American 'protectors' by bashing in the head of the second man with a couple of large rocks they picked up.
O'Neill glanced at Mama, then turned and ran to his team giving orders in a hushed tone. "Hide the bodies and take whatever weapons they have. There's a church down the road this way, we'll have to make a stand there. Move, now."
Hastings got out of the Jeep and motioned for Major Carter to follow him into the hangar. Once there he went on in to the office and started making phone calls. Whoever he was talking to, Carter noticed he didn't hold back one bit, he told them exactly what they planned to do and what he needed. When he got off the phone he said to her, "You're lucky we haven't been called out lately, Search and Rescue One is geared up and standing by, takeoff in sixty minutes." He wagged a pen in her direction, "If you're coming along we need to find you some appropriate clothing."
She looked down and grimaced, she'd totally forgotten she was wearing a skirt uniform, standard for the Communications Center.
"One of the crews has a Latino navigator who's just a kid, he's not much bigger than you. I think we could steal a flight suit from them. C'mon, let's go."
Thirty minutes later Hastings and Carter arrived at a hangar in the middle of a long row. He parked the Jeep and motioned for her to get out. There were three helicopters on the tarmac and men were busily performing their pre-flight checks.
Carter grabbed the Captains arm, "There are three of them. I thought we were going alone."
"You're kidding me, right? Go into hostile territory alone?"
She looked back at him sheepishly. Obviously the go-it-alone-and-come-back-in-one-piece attitude around the SGC had gotten under her skin. She should have known better and felt naïve for thinking this would be a quick little low profile mission. Hastings pointed to the helicopter with a large red cross on the side. "This is a standard setup for search and rescue, the armament is minimal, but there's plenty of room and if anyone is injured we'll have everything we need."
"But these-" He swung his arm toward the other two aircraft, "are state of the art AH-64D Apache Attacks, just upgraded and fully fitted out. They've got sixteen Hellfire missiles each plus a 30 millimeter Chain Gun. We're not planning on getting into a conflict, but if the situation arises, you're gonna be glad these babies are backing us up. Come on, I'll introduce you to the pilots."
As they walked over she couldn't help but ask him what he had to do to make this happen. "Joe, you can't tell me you have enough authority to order all this."
"You're right. I had to run it past my CO, but it wasn't a problem. You'll never guess who he served with about twelve years ago." His eyes slid toward her to see her expression. "A certain brash young Major named O'Neill. He gets around doesn't he?"
Her jaw dropped. Maybe it wasn't such an odd thing that a number of high-ranking officers gave support to O'Neill so easily, he seemed to have friends everywhere.
O'Neill's team found their new accommodations acceptable and much more roomy than the last place. The women used a small back room as a sleeping area and put all the children to bed. O'Neill left Tuck and Lambert to stay while the rest of them scouted out the building. The old woman was right about the tower; it reached high above the rooftops of all the nearby buildings and made a great lookout.
After checking their radios, Tolbert and Mitchell were left to stay on sentry duty. O'Neill and Corbin continued the survey of the main floor but found nothing of interest except more blankets and several terra-cotta jugs of water. They carried what they could to the cellar and handed them over to the women.
While they settled in O'Neill took a few minutes to relax. It would likely be quite a while before they could rest again if the Iraqis came around.
He tried to focus on the present circumstances but kept drifting off to thoughts of the SGC. Oddly enough he missed the place. With all the strange things that went on there, it was still home to him. He missed the people, so different yet so much the same as here, good people, trying to accomplish a worthy and honorable goal.
His pensiveness must have showed because presently the old woman came over and eased herself down to a blanket beside him. Her knees creaked as she lowered herself, but when he raised a hand to protest, she stopped him. "The getting down is easy, Colonel. You can help me when I want to get up."
After settling herself against the wall as comfortably as she could she said, "Tell me about her."
O'Neill looked at her with a hint of surprise on his face, "Who?"
"Your wife."
"Oh, uh, not married. I mean, I was, but not anymore." Sara had been the furthest thing from his mind.
"Do you still love her?"
Despite the personal nature of the question he answered. "We're still friends, but we've both moved on. Why are you asking me this?"
She clasped her hand over his and leaned in closer, "It seemed you were thinking about someone. Am I wrong?"
The relative anonymity of the situation made him suddenly able to voice the truth. "No, Mama, you're not. There is someone I care for very much. I miss her."
"She is in America?"
"No, actually she's here. In Kuwait rather, she's in the Air Force, too."
The sounds of sirens and explosions cut their conversation short. O'Neill was at once back to his military alertness and rose to his feet. He reached a hand down to the old woman. "I think you should go back to the others."
She nodded in agreement and let him help her up. Before going she hugged him tightly and said, "Be careful, Colonel Jack. We are in your hands."
O'Neill thumbed his radio, "Tolbert, report!" He could barely hear any reply over the sirens wailing and cursed under his breath. He quickly dug out his earpiece and fitted it into place.
"T, negative copy, repeat."
"Sir, our bombers are in the air. Not close yet. They're hitting to the south and east of our position."
"Any sign of ground forces?"
"Negative, Sir."
"Stay put for now. If those bombs start coming this way, get out of there. Understood?"
Tolbert replied in the affirmative and the radio went silent. O'Neill headed to the back to get the rest of his team up and moving. This night was just getting started.
In an hour the three helicopters were in the air making good time into Iraqi airspace. Baghdad was about 250 miles from the base and their target area was just to the southwest. S&R One was sandwiched between the Attacks giving it the best cover. Amazingly they went nearly all the way without ground resistance.
When they were within a mile of the targeted coordinates Hastings gave Carter a sign. She nodded and pressed the 'talk' button on her handheld radio. "Colonel O'Neill. Come in. Colonel O'Neill. This is Carter. Come in."
When there was no response her heart sank. She knew they'd moved, but how far and in which direction? Hastings acknowledged the shake of her head and turned back to the pilot. After a short exchange, which included all three pilots he directed his attention back to her. "Major, it seems there are significant ground forces to the east and north of here. The consensus is that a rescue attempt there would not be successful. We'll be heading due west in a moment. I suggest you continue to attempt to make contact every half-mile or so."
She nodded, trying to look grateful that they weren't just going to turn back right now. From here on out, they'd be defying orders, she knew every one of the airmen would be acutely aware of that fact and wondered if Hastings' CO had factored in the possibility of them straying wide from the pick up zone. If he was anything like O'Neill's other friends, it wouldn't be a problem.
As they veered away from the 'safe zone' it became clear the survival of O'Neill's team would be nothing short of a miracle. As far as they could see were the ragged shells of buildings. Not a single block had escaped at least some damage and the clouds of smoke and dust in the air were constantly limiting their vision.
When Hastings turned and informed Carter they were coming up on the ten-mile mark she still had not made a contact. It didn't really surprise her though, she didn't think they'd have gone five miles, let alone ten and was glad they were turning back for another sweep, this time a mile north of the first run.
When they got back to the pick up zone she had to admit she was really worrying. What if their radios weren't functioning? Or worse, what if they'd gone somewhere else altogether?" she shook off her pessimism and tapped Hastings on the shoulder.
"We're going another mile further to the north, right?" He nodded. "Okay, only don't go the whole ten miles this time. There's no way they could have gotten that far. Turn around at five."
Hastings opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it and nodded again. He spoke into his headset and explained Carter's request to the pilot, who she could see nod in answer.
On their third leg of the grid she got a static-filled open channel when she called for O'Neill. Hastings had the pilot pull back on the throttle to give her a chance to try it again. She lost the signal completely and made a circular motion in the air with her finger to Hastings. He had the pilot turn back and swing out a little further north. It wasn't a problem for the S&R but was playing hell with the larger and somewhat less maneuverable Apaches and Carter made a mental note to thank the pilots for being so accommodating.
Hastings turned to ask if she had any luck yet and was greeted with a million dollars worth of smile. This time Carter heard a scratchy voice and cupped her hand over her earpiece as she listened.
"Carter? Is that you? Where are you?"
Her grin widened, "Look up, Sir."
"You're kidding, right?" O'Neill made a beeline for the nearest doorway and heard the helicopter blades just as he got there. "Sweet."
Hastings switched out his helicopter headset for an earphone to another handheld radio and thumbed the talk button, "O'Neill, where the Hell are you, man?"
"Hastings? They'll let anybody fly these days! You see a church with a steeple? Tolbert, you on frequency? Wave your light."
Carter scanned the area and pointed to a tall bulbous tower ahead of them. At the uppermost level two dark figures could be seen against the dimly lit night sky, both frantically waving lights. At the base of the building she could just make out another light waving from a darkened doorway. "Colonel! We've got you. Anyplace we can set down?"
"Keep going around the other side. We'll light the way." He yelled back to his team to break out whatever light they had and outline the rear courtyard. They were going home. As he ran to the back to prepare the women to move his radio sparked to life again in one ear while the sound of gunfire echoed in the other. He stopped in his tracks and covered the earpiece so he could hear his teammate. Tolbert's voice was fearful, "Sir! The Iraqis! They followed the choppers, they're here!" It was the one bit of news O'Neill hoped he wouldn't receive.
"Which direction?"
"From the south, Sir. Right behind the choppers."
The orders flew out of O'Neill's mouth. "Tolbert, Mitch! Get down here! Tuck! You got those lights up yet? Lambert! Get the women ready to move. Now! Corbin! C-4. Meet me at the east entrance. Move it! Carter, we've got women and children who need a lift out, take them first."
He barely heard her acknowledgement as he raced through the building. His brain was in full ops mode; by the time he met up with Corbin he had a plan.
"How much C-4 have we got?"
"Four large bricks, Sir. If you're looking for a big bang, can do."
O'Neill pointed to a side stairway going up then took two of the bricks and detonators from his 2IC. "We need to blow the tower. Timers on three minutes. Lay the charges on the south side, I don't want it falling into the courtyard."
"Can't those Apache's help us out any?"
"Too close for the missiles." He had another idea. "Carter? You on the ground yet?"
"Almost there Colonel, descending now." Her point was emphasized by a pulsing whooshing noise from behind the structure.
"Good. Can you get those A-tacks on either side of the tower? We'll need cover fire, but not too close. The tower comes down in three minutes. Copy?" As he spoke he waved to Corbin to go and start setting the charges.
"Roger, Sir. Relaying message."
The gunfire was now very close but most of it was directed at the helicopters that were returning it with their rapid-fire 30 millimeters. The positions O'Neill requested them to take turned out to be quite advantageous, they were able to fire at the forward ground advance as well as pivot to either side and hit flanking forces.
The decibel level all throughout the mosque was deafening as the sounds of a small war converged there. From the front and sides the Iraqis were shooting rifles and light anti-aircraft weapons while the Apaches hovered above. They created their own racket in the sounds of their engines and blades punctuated by the rattling firing pattern of the big guns all echoing off the sides of the buildings. From behind, the small courtyard amplified the sound of S&R One on the ground where Tuck and the Lieutenants were herding the women and children rapidly across an open stretch and into the waiting door.
Carter and Hastings were standing outside the helicopter on either side of the opening helping the refugees get in. As the last ones arrived Tuck ordered the airmen to load up as well, then stepped up himself.
Several large blasts rocked the stone structure and the tower fell forward. A plume of dust blew out of the windows and doors facing the courtyard as it came down. The Apache pilots, always ready to improvise took O'Neill's lead and were ready each with one Hellfire missile hot. As the tower blew they lit them off to targets just far enough away to amplify the diversion but not pose any threat to the rescue operation. Carter and Hastings stood open-mouthed at the unexpected display.
Carter's heart lurched in her chest as she realized O'Neill was nowhere to be seen, nor Major Corbin. She took a step away from the helicopter and felt Hastings grab her arm but wrestled it free and glared at him. "Don't." She warned him.
Hastings knew the drill, 'We don't leave anyone behind.' It had been brought home much too recently and with this same Colonel involved, as well. He shook his head in defeat and ordered Tuck and Mitch to hand over their submachine guns, then yelled at the pilot to take off.
He followed Carter away from the swirling dust and handed her a weapon. "Let's go find them."
They were barely into the building when bullets started raining down on them from two sides so they dove for the nearest cover and began to return fire. Some of the Iraqis had evidently escaped the tumbling walls and mortar.
O'Neill and Corbin peered out of a protected doorway at the front of the building's second floor. The battle between the Apaches and the ground was still in full swing. O'Neill spotted a duo of soldiers with missile launchers and shook his head. "Oh, no you don't. Not this time, pal." He pulled out a grenade and lobbed it with his best baseball pitch right at them. The explosion sent them both flying several feet. When no more appeared, he turned his attention elsewhere.
Explosions and gunfire seemed to be coming from everywhere as Corbin spotted a target of his own on the first floor below them. They were firing at someone else on the ground. He was sure the others had gotten off all right and waved to O'Neill.
The Colonel immediately sized up the situation; someone needed help and they were going to get it. He motioned to the best vantage points they could get to and waved Corbin on before going himself. In a few minutes they had flanked the Iraqis and began a barrage of their own.
With four Iraqis down and the others in retreat, the sound had diminished enough for them to hear another unwelcome sound. The Coalition bombers had arrived in the area and were making a run. A single J-Dam fell two blocks away and caused enough of a shockwave to make the still standing walls of the Mosque shake and large pieces of plaster fell away loose.
O'Neill rocked back his head and rolled his eyes. Never a break, it could never be easy. He called to Corbin to follow him down to the lower level. There was enough light to spot two Air Force uniforms slouched against one wall where more debris had fallen in the last shockwave. They each went to one thinking they'd find a team member but were in for a shock. Corbin reached his man first and gasped as he looked into the face of Captain Hastings. He recognized the man immediately and shouted to O'Neill.
The Colonel was busy with his own surprise. He knelt at Carters side and lightly touched her neck, checking for a pulse and feeling her neck before lifting her head and shoulders under his arm. His head was spinning a million miles an hour. What the hell was Carter doing here? Stupid question, coming for him of course, but how did she manage to get herself hurt?
He patted her cheek and called her name several times before getting a response.
"Sir? Colonel? You're all right."
"More than I can say for you right now, Major. Think you can stand?"
She nodded and let him slide his arm down her back to help her up. She swayed a little so he didn't yet release her and started picking bits of plaster out of her hair. "What the hell were you thinking, getting off that chopper?"
She flushed and pulled back regaining her balance and quickly dusted off her uniform. That done, she picked up her weapon and stood up straight. "Sir, we're here to rescue you."
All O'Neill could do was burst out in a laugh. "That I figured out, but I think now we all need a rescue. By the way the Apaches are a nice touch." The remark was punctuated by another explosion. He grabbed Carter's arm and hurried them both out from under the collapsing ceiling.
Outside was far too exposed and once Corbin and Hastings arrived the group made their way through a narrow alley and to the back of an adjacent building. As long as they stayed to the north side it seemed the Iraqis wouldn't spot them. They stopped in the deep shadows of an arched entryway.
O'Neill turned to Carter and Hastings and asked "I suppose you have a plan for getting us out of here?"
Carter for once was lost for words. No she had not planned, she assumed they'd signal a helicopter and get a lift out, but with all the noise their small radios were near useless. Hastings wasn't so reserved as the Major and produced a flare gun from his vest pocket. "Thought this might come in handy."
O'Neill nodded and turned to peer out of their hiding place. He surveyed for possible landing sites and decided there were none on this level. "Unless we can get to a roof I don't think a helicopter will be able to land for us. Any ideas?"
Corbin agreed. "There's a way up over there." He pointed to a stone stairway leading up the exterior of the next building. "It's not very high but the rooftops all seem to be level, might be our best shot."
They moved out toward the stairway up, keeping in the shadows as much as possible, they would soon draw enough attention to themselves when Hastings fired the flare.
The roof was a lot smaller than it looked from the ground but it was flat so it would have to do. From where they stood they could see S&R One hovering back from the firefight and how the two Apaches had pulled away from the Mosque to get a better angle on the ground forces. None of the helicopters were close to their position so O'Neill gave Hastings a go to signal. He could only hope someone was watching for them.
Hastings held the gun at arms length, pointed it straight up, and fired. The flare burst forth from the short barrel with a loud pop and immediately filled the sky with a blinding red-tinged trail of light.
In a split-second one of the Apaches swung around and moved toward their position. The second one adjusted its position to widen their coverage area.
Once in position overhead the helicopter began to descend but before it got very far it pulled back up. A man in the open side door of the helicopter waved his hands back and forth and shook his head, 'no'.
It was too risky for them to land here; they 'd have to go with their second option.
Several harnesses were dropped from above and after Hastings retrieved them, a single winch line was dropped. Each of them strapped on a harness and prepared to be lifted off.
O'Neill insisted Carter go first and under protest she complied. He assured her it wasn't some male gallantry thing, it was just that she'd been the most seriously hurt.
Hastings went next, also under protest but this time was overruled by rank. As the winch dropped for the third time O'Neill and Corbin were forced to drop to the ground to avoid debris from a grenade going off near the corner of the roof. The Iraqis had found them and the tension went up a notch for both men.
O'Neill clipped the line to Corbin's vest while they were still lying down and waved for the pick up to proceed. The winch retracted and the helicopter pulled up and away just slightly to distance themselves from the gunfire below, which was now directed solely at them.
Corbin made it safely aboard and the helicopter had to swing out and around to get in position for O'Neill. This time a mortar shell just missed them. The pilot swung the tail around forcibly to avoid it and the entire craft shuddered in response before stabilizing.
It came in close to drop the line but had to back off when bullets began to pelt the fuselage again. The pilot called to the other two for support.
S&R One had been holding back but now joined the foray with machine gun fire. It's only real weapon to speak of. This time the Apache moved in but not as low as before. The winch was dropped to its full length and hit the roof with a loud thud. O'Neill had been off to the side in the shadows and now dove for it, tossing two grenades over the side of the building as he went. He clipped the line to his vest and stuck his thumb up in the air.
He was jerked unmercifully up into mid air as the helicopter rose and started moving away from the site at full throttle before the winch even started to reel in. The explosion from the grenades gave only a momentary respite from the ground assault and another mortar lit the sky. Bullets continued to whiz by O'Neill and he ducked his head into his shoulders for minimal protection knowing full well he was a wide-open target.
The second Apache moved in a wide arc to the north and then turned back to the base of the buildings and fired off two Hellfire missiles. It then turned to the southeast and joined the other two helicopters already on their way home. Behind them the remaining walls of the Mosque exploded and it fell in upon itself, completely destroyed.
It was quite dark away from the battle but long before Carter could see O'Neill's face she knew something was wrong. He wasn't clutching onto the rescue line or even ducking his head against the wind. His body was completely limp, supported only by the single hook at the end of the line. She presumed he'd been knocked unconscious by the severe jerk up from the ground.
As he neared the opening Tuck and Tolbert leaned out to pull him in. They were already a mile from the Mosque when they managed to drag the unconscious man aboard.
Unfortunately they weren't on the rescue helicopter so medical supplies were only the bare necessity standard issue. One of the benches along the side of the helicopter was vacated and O'Neill laid out on it. Carter knelt beside him and started to loosen his clothing to look for any signs of wounding. She berated herself for not at least grabbing an additional med kit or getting Lambert to come along, he was their medic and the best suited to deal with this kind of thing after all. She should have realized at least one of them might be injured. Why did it always have to be him?
Tuck watched her struggling with the clasps on the vest and came over to help her. He saw it was not due to any lack of aptitude on her part but rather because the whole front of the vest was saturated with sticky blood. She pulled her hands back and gasped at it. In the darkness she'd assumed it was dirt or sweat or even mud, but not this.
She let Tuck finish the task and called to one of the airmen, "We need a med kit! Anything will do!"
A young man jumped up in response and opened an overhead compartment, pulling out a standard kit and a large pack of extra bandages. He didn't wait for the Major to take them but laid them out on the floor and started tearing open wrappers for her. With Tuck doing the harder task of getting the clothing out of the way, Carter was able to focus on the two gushing bullet holes in O'Neill's chest and hold pressure to them. She could barely feel his chest move under her hands and at one point had to pause to check for a pulse, fearful she might not find one.
It was there, though not strong, and far too rapid. She recognized the sign of shock setting in and cursed under her breath. Corbin leaned over her to get a better look and saw her reaction. "It's bad, isn't it?"
She nodded. "He's lost a lot of blood. Can you raise his legs up any? We're supposed to do that for shock." Her words felt hollow in her own ears. He complied and then found a blanket and tucked it in around O'Neill's body. He remembered from somewhere that a patient in shock should be kept warm, too.
Carter thanked him and rechecked the dressings. The blood had all but stopped flowing, at least on the outside, and his pulse slowed a little. They were doing what they could but his only real hope was the base and it's wealth of medical technology.
Once they crossed the Coalition Front line the three helicopters touched down at a makeshift base camp. O'Neill was rushed to the medical unit and stabilized for transport to Kuwait. Carter and the others tried to stay near but were promptly told they were interfering with his care and forced to keep their distance. All they could do was pace around at the tent entrance.
The body that was moved out of the ward and loaded up on the rescue helicopter was vastly different than the one they wheeled in. He was now surrounded by an assortment of medical devices and tubes including an oxygen mask, two IV's, portable heart and blood pressure monitors and the worst thing to see, a large-bore tube coming out of the right side of his chest. His lung had collapsed and had to be re-expanded so he could breathe. It was clamped off at the moment but was still gruesome to see.
The helicopter had been freshly refueled and checked while O'Neill was being seen and was now ready to fly again. He'd be taken directly to the hospital at Kuwait City where several ICU nurses were prepared to meet them at the helipad. Carter assumed at least one or two of them would be allowed to accompany O'Neill on the final leg of his journey but was stopped from doing so by the Base Commander.
The whole affair was up for scrutiny and O'Neill's team, Carter and Hastings were to report to Al-Jaber at once for debriefing. The women and children who accompanied them were now considered refugees and would be 'processed' as such. It meant food, water and decent living conditions, but not freedom. The only available transport was a large troop carrier class helicopter and everyone; Iraqi and American alike were loaded up for the trip to Kuwait.
O'Neill's flight was high priority and the speed of the aircraft was not curtailed in any way, but the troop transport carrying the others was much slower and would take nearly twice as long to cover the same distance. That is if they were going to the same destination, which they weren't. The refugees were being housed at Camp Doha, an army base east of Al-Jaber. That would be the first stop and then Carter and the others would be taken on to the airbase, presumably to be debriefed although she was sure she and Hastings were in for an earful from General Osborne at least.
She sat scrunched up in a corner of the cargo area and considered her actions. It really had been worth it in the end, and no American lives were lost. It was not always a dependable gauge of success but still made her feel better. Every one of those men had volunteered as well, Hastings made sure of that. They all knew what they were getting into and made the decision without pressure.
As she sat lost in thought Corbin made his way over to her and said. "How are you holding up, Major?"
"Well, considering I might be court-marshaled, not too bad."
"You don't really think it will come to that." He took a seat beside her.
"Maybe not, but the General is gonna be pretty mad, although I technically wasn't AWOL until I didn't show up at work this morning." He didn't respond and she realized he wasn't even paying attention. "Major, was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"
He jerked his head back to her, caught. "Um, Mama, the old woman who came with us. She wants to talk to you. She doesn't speak any English so I'll have to translate."
"What could she possibly want of me?"
He blushed. "She has this idea that you and Colonel O'Neill are involved."
"We're not. It's just not something that- what did he tell her?" Her eyes narrowed.
"I don't think much really, not about that, but they talked quite a bit over the past few days, she really likes the Colonel. You could humor her, make her feel better about having to go to the camp."
It wasn't until then Carter understood there was something more between these men and the Iraqi women they'd 'liberated.' She could tell Corbin was genuinely concerned about their welfare.
He leaned back against the wall and spoke again. "It was the boy, I think."
She looked at him; he'd completely lost her now.
He blushed again when he realized he'd spoken that thought out loud. "Sorry. Um, there was a kid, a little boy. We were trapped in a cellar while the building collapsed over us and the mother was hurt. The Colonel actually shielded her from the worst of the debris and picked up her kid and held him like he was his own and it was the most natural thing in the world. He still gave us orders and saw that the mom was tended to, but he held that kid." He rubbed his hand over his face, lost in the memory. "Kinda reminded me of something. I know it sounds stupid but those women saw it too, and in a split second they trusted him. They hid us and fed us for two days without question. I never woulda believed it."
"So? You were Americans. There are a lot of sympathizers out there."
"Uh, uh. It was more than that."
Carter grinned, "What? She thinks he's some kind of hero? Sure I'll talk to her."
Corbin slapped his hand to his forehead, "She didn't say that! And neither did I, just forget it. Come on."
She followed behind him suppressing a case of the giggles as they moved forward in the cabin to the old woman's location. Corbin spoke to the woman and motioned for Carter to sit across from her. So far the only part Carter understood was her name.
The old woman, Mama, took her hands and smiled. She began to speak in the throaty Arabic language Carter had heard so much of the past few weeks but was never able to comprehend.
Corbin listened for a minute then began to speak, never taking his eyes off the old woman's face. "She wants you to know how grateful she is that you brought the helicopters to save them. She knows the only one you really wanted to save was O'Neill, and the rest of us were a lesser concern."
Carter bristled. "That's not true! Sure, I've known the Colonel longer than any of you, but it was the whole team in trouble, not just him."
He glanced at her and rapidly translated it back into Arabic, eliciting a grin from the woman. She spoke again. "She says you should not be ashamed that he was your reason for coming. You should, ah, treasure, I think, what you have with him. The future is uncertain, we must all live for today."
"Sounds like an oldies recording."
Corbin looked at her, suddenly irate. "Major, this woman has lived through Saddam's entire regime, she just might have a point. Who knows how many loved ones she's lost. The fact she can even imagine a future is amazing."
Chastised, Carter swallowed and bit her lower lip.
The old woman didn't get the words but understood Corbin's tone and raised a hand to hush him. She offered a few harsh tones of her own then turned back to Carter and continued. Corbin translated again.
"She knows what happened to him and isn't surprised he was the only one to be seriously hurt. She thinks he makes a habit of putting others first and thinks its time someone did the same for him."
A short conversation passed between Corbin and the old woman then he turned back to Carter and shrugged. "She says you know what she means."
She had an awful feeling in the pit of her stomach. These last several weeks had distanced her from her intended career path and had been, in a way, refreshing. Instead of being to totally wrapped up in advanced technology and saving the world, she'd focused on a very small part of it, and her eyes were opened to the real 'big picture.' It wasn't about saving the world, it was about people, and making just one life better impacted the whole.
She scrubbed her hands through her hair. O'Neill already knew this, that's why he was so adamant to protect all of them. From Catherine Langford all the way through the many planets they'd traveled to, even when they didn't need it, and especially when they didn't want it, he was determined to make that small difference. Maybe that's why the arrogance of the Tollan's irritated him so much; with all their superiority he could see their individual lives were no better. Probably the only race he felt were truly living up to their potential were the Nox. Even the Ancient's had their issues.
She had to agree, the quiet strength of Lya and her people was unrivalled except-" Her thoughts were interrupted when the old woman grasped her hands again.
She didn't speak but only held on tightly. Carter responded by squeezing her hands in return and smiled. Point made. Her whole world had revolved around the SGC for many years now, and though she admitted it outwardly only once, the center point of it all was Jack O'Neill. Through all this time she'd managed to keep her distance. Perhaps it was time for a change.