Chapter 6 - Nadir
"Diane, you've got to give me more than this." said Sam, looking round nervously from the public phone in the brightly lit shopping mall as the stores began to close for the evening. A note of exasperation had crept into her voice at the lack of any useful information from her old friend in Washington.
"I already told you, Sam." said the voice on the phone. It was *never in doubt* that I'd help you with your research, but *nothing in depth*, OK?"
"What?" replied Sam, puzzled at this strange turn to the conversation. "Diane.."
"You'll never guess who I saw today with your General Hammond! Oh, silly me. That's not what you were calling about, was it?" her friend continued. "Look, you're *not in distress* over this, are you? I'd suggest we get together next weekend if you think it'll help. I'll call you back tomorrow and we can set something up, OK? You know that *Nancy is dying* to see you again, and it'll be like old times! OK, Sam, honey? Gotta go now!"
Now totally puzzled, Sam looked at the phone with a frown before she replaced it on the hook. 'I don't know a Nancy.' she thought. But as she walked back to her car, she began to wonder why her good friend had stressed certain parts of her conversation. 'Never In Doubt? Nothing In Depth? Not In Distress? Nancy Is...' As she pressed the remote lock and the car lights flashed, she suddenly realised that she had indeed received a valuable piece of information, and knew that the Pentagon doors and probably all other official channels were firmly closed to her. If she was going to mount a rescue effort for the three stranded SGC people, it would involve deceit, risk and quite possibly the end of her career. But more importantly, it would take quite some time to accomplish, and that was not something she was going to tolerate. Not now that she recognised that her personal priorities had been slightly re-ordered. The alternative was too awful to contemplate.
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Jen Hailey was more in awe of the Colonel over the simple things he did rather than the military heroics she'd known him for previously. His 'drive to survive' was unsurpassed by any of the colleagues that she worked with, and whenever it concerned the safety of his subordinates, he was tireless and resourceful - and a hard taskmaster to boot. Their first day in hiding in the jungle had been spent altering their clothes to make them look more like natives, using the simple repair kit that she'd carried in her personal baggage. When they ran short of thread to re-join the differently- cut garments, he had carefully unpicked the seams and made do with that, not giving up until he thought the new shirts looked good enough to pass casual inspection. He himself wore Teal'c's spare tunic, transforming him instantly into a sloppy peasant.
They had foraged for food for a few days before planning to leave the cover of the forest, but he decided to take their chances in the more open country that hopefully lay in the other direction sooner than intended. Nutritionally, they could live on the meat of the few rat-like creatures and snakes that they caught, but to their alien palates it tasted so foul that hunger was the preferred option, even to Jack. Likewise, edible fruits and roots were absent to their unaccustomed eyes, and coupled with the hours they spent hiding from the Andan patrols that they assumed were searching for them, a drastic change of course was needed.
Journeying as much as possible by night, they found that the tree cover thinned out and arable fields and pastures started to appear. On a couple of farms where they knew that they were unobserved, Jeff demonstrated an unexpected talent in milking the occasional cows and goats that they came across. Jen and Jack couldn't get near without spooking the animals, and left him to it each time. They raided fields for vegetables and fruits, only pulling the occasional root out of the ground at widely-spaced intervals so that the theft was not obvious.
They slept in small thickets and the occasional barn, always with someone on watch. Fortunately the high daily temperatures meant that clothes washed in streams in the early morning and draped across their packs would be dry by mid-day, but gradually they inevitably took on the rough and slightly untidy appearance of itinerant workers. Jack's increasingly obvious limp only added to this scenario, while Hailey felt increasingly familiar at addressing him as 'Dad', to which he began occasionally to react with amusement.
Their biggest stroke of luck was to find work as fruit-pickers on one farm, where migrant labour was obviously the norm. They mingled with the other workers but largely kept themselves to themselves as a close-knit family group, except to ask questions about where people came from and where they hoped to move on to when the work was finished. They were glad of the poor quality but hot stew that was served most evenings, and felt better than they had for some time. At night, Jen and Jeff slept naturally together in the straw in the corner of the communal barn, while Jack lay a little distance away as though guarding them from anyone foolish enough to try to steal from or molest his 'family'. He dozed only lightly most of the time, as the recurring, bloody vision of the man he'd shot at the start of this botched mission, coupled with the subconscious release of the deeper anguish of facing the rest of his life without Sam, repeatedly cut short the deeper sleep his body craved.
Gradually they acquired a superficial knowledge of place names and some slang everyday words. But most importantly, at the end of ten days, they were paid off with real Andan money, the first that they had acquired.
After retrieving Jack's pack containing the disassembled gun and the ammunition from where they had buried it under a nearby hedge, they set off again, this time knowing that the port that served the capital city Reha was only three days walk away across country. Although Andan army patrols were still seen occasionally, to all intents and purposes they were relatively safe if they kept away from major roads.
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After two weeks of working and sleeping on base, Sam finally realised that she had to take a break to be able to think out her rescue strategy more clearly. She had pestered General Warner and then General Hammond as much as she dared, but her friend's coded telephone message had already told her that a certain government agency had no interest in seeing O'Neill's quick return.
Her own duties had been confined to research in her laboratory, with no off- world trips planned for SG-1. Hailey's absence from the science crew meant that there was more than enough work to do anyway. So while she kept up the surface appearance of hard work and frequent vocal protests about the lack of a rescue mission, she quietly asked fellow SG team leaders on missions to try to get messages through to her father, currently located 'out there' with the Tok'ra, that she needed to see him urgently. But just when he would walk through the gate, she had no idea.
She had no sooner sat down at home after listening to all the phone messages, mostly from Pete, and then cleaning up the kitchen to remove the penicillin that had once masqueraded as milk in her fridge, when the door bell interrupted her first attempt at relaxation. She was shocked when she saw her boyfriend through the spy-hole, and opened the door.
"Sam!" he cried, stepping forward to hug her with one arm, at the same time holding a bunch of flowers in the other. "Surprise!"
As she automatically responded to his hug, her skin tingled in shock as she realised that she hadn't planned for this. "Pete! What are you doing..?"
"I called that friend of yours, Daniel. He told me you'd be home tonight at last and so I thought I'd come straight over and welcome you back!" he said joyfully. "God, I've so missed you, Sam. Tell me you missed me." he added, looking straight into her eyes.
She wasn't ready to admit that she'd hardly thought about him at all since her return, nor had she the faintest idea what she was going to say. So she grunted a reply, and invited him into the lounge. She accepted the flowers and took her time placing them in a vase of water in the kitchen. Pete came in as she was drying her hands.
"I knew you'd like a treat, so I booked a table that dance restaurant where we first met." he added, walking over and placing his arm round her. "And afterwards, we can celebrate like we usually do and aim for a late breakfast! What do you say, Sammie? Sound good?"
Random thoughts, none of them constructive or relevant, tumbled through her mind as she searched for a reply. The one that was least welcome was the fleeting image of Jack limping away from her as she'd left to board the boat on Andar - not surprising really, as that same scene had burned its way into her memory at least a thousand times since then.
"But I'm not dressed for that kind of evening." she protested at last. "I'm still in work clothes."
"Nonsense!" he replied. "The table's not booked for another hour, so there's plenty of time to change. But if you're really tired, we can just go to eat."
"No, I'm sorry." she stammered. "Look, I've got to talk to you. Something's happened at work."
Pete dropped his encircling arm and stepped away. "Not that god-damned charade that you call 'deep space radar telemetry' again? Sam, I learned my lesson. I won't pry into what you really do, but it's only a job! It shouldn't get in the way of what we have together!"
"Well, it's important to me!" she retorted. "I don't tell you that you're 'only a detective', do I?"
"But that's what I am! I've told you before that I'd move with you if you got a decent job outside the Air Force anywhere else in the country." he almost shouted.
"And I've told you that I'm not giving it up!" Sam responded equally loudly. "People depend on me, and I'm not going to let them down!" Seeing his shocked expression, she calmed down and uttered the fatal words in a much quieter voice. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this any more, Pete. The situation at work has changed, and.. And so have I."
He stood there, stunned. Sam's face reddened and she found that she couldn't look him in the eye. After a moment's silence, he whispered, "I suppose that someone in particular is depending on you, not just people in general?"
Sam exhaled. "Yes. To tell the truth, Pete, yes. He might die if I'm not there for him, and I'll never forgive myself if he does. I'm so sorry."
"Oh." was all he could say for a while. Then his mood changed visibly. "So you just fell for this guy these last two weeks, then? Felt like you needed a change of scene and took the opportunity?"
"No, it wasn't like that.."
"*It wasn't like that*" he mimicked sarcastically. "Yeah, that's what they all say."
"No, it *wasn't* like that!" she came back at him, mad as hell. "You were the one I fell for, and he was the one who got hurt all those weeks ago!" She stopped suddenly as the realisation of what she'd just said hit home to both of them.
"You two-timing bitch." he said calmly, walking away into the night and not turning round as the front door swung shut behind him.
She'd never felt so alone, sitting on the kitchen floor with tears streaming down her face. Bridges were well and truly burning and she hadn't yet found the road ahead.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
"Diane, you've got to give me more than this." said Sam, looking round nervously from the public phone in the brightly lit shopping mall as the stores began to close for the evening. A note of exasperation had crept into her voice at the lack of any useful information from her old friend in Washington.
"I already told you, Sam." said the voice on the phone. It was *never in doubt* that I'd help you with your research, but *nothing in depth*, OK?"
"What?" replied Sam, puzzled at this strange turn to the conversation. "Diane.."
"You'll never guess who I saw today with your General Hammond! Oh, silly me. That's not what you were calling about, was it?" her friend continued. "Look, you're *not in distress* over this, are you? I'd suggest we get together next weekend if you think it'll help. I'll call you back tomorrow and we can set something up, OK? You know that *Nancy is dying* to see you again, and it'll be like old times! OK, Sam, honey? Gotta go now!"
Now totally puzzled, Sam looked at the phone with a frown before she replaced it on the hook. 'I don't know a Nancy.' she thought. But as she walked back to her car, she began to wonder why her good friend had stressed certain parts of her conversation. 'Never In Doubt? Nothing In Depth? Not In Distress? Nancy Is...' As she pressed the remote lock and the car lights flashed, she suddenly realised that she had indeed received a valuable piece of information, and knew that the Pentagon doors and probably all other official channels were firmly closed to her. If she was going to mount a rescue effort for the three stranded SGC people, it would involve deceit, risk and quite possibly the end of her career. But more importantly, it would take quite some time to accomplish, and that was not something she was going to tolerate. Not now that she recognised that her personal priorities had been slightly re-ordered. The alternative was too awful to contemplate.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
Jen Hailey was more in awe of the Colonel over the simple things he did rather than the military heroics she'd known him for previously. His 'drive to survive' was unsurpassed by any of the colleagues that she worked with, and whenever it concerned the safety of his subordinates, he was tireless and resourceful - and a hard taskmaster to boot. Their first day in hiding in the jungle had been spent altering their clothes to make them look more like natives, using the simple repair kit that she'd carried in her personal baggage. When they ran short of thread to re-join the differently- cut garments, he had carefully unpicked the seams and made do with that, not giving up until he thought the new shirts looked good enough to pass casual inspection. He himself wore Teal'c's spare tunic, transforming him instantly into a sloppy peasant.
They had foraged for food for a few days before planning to leave the cover of the forest, but he decided to take their chances in the more open country that hopefully lay in the other direction sooner than intended. Nutritionally, they could live on the meat of the few rat-like creatures and snakes that they caught, but to their alien palates it tasted so foul that hunger was the preferred option, even to Jack. Likewise, edible fruits and roots were absent to their unaccustomed eyes, and coupled with the hours they spent hiding from the Andan patrols that they assumed were searching for them, a drastic change of course was needed.
Journeying as much as possible by night, they found that the tree cover thinned out and arable fields and pastures started to appear. On a couple of farms where they knew that they were unobserved, Jeff demonstrated an unexpected talent in milking the occasional cows and goats that they came across. Jen and Jack couldn't get near without spooking the animals, and left him to it each time. They raided fields for vegetables and fruits, only pulling the occasional root out of the ground at widely-spaced intervals so that the theft was not obvious.
They slept in small thickets and the occasional barn, always with someone on watch. Fortunately the high daily temperatures meant that clothes washed in streams in the early morning and draped across their packs would be dry by mid-day, but gradually they inevitably took on the rough and slightly untidy appearance of itinerant workers. Jack's increasingly obvious limp only added to this scenario, while Hailey felt increasingly familiar at addressing him as 'Dad', to which he began occasionally to react with amusement.
Their biggest stroke of luck was to find work as fruit-pickers on one farm, where migrant labour was obviously the norm. They mingled with the other workers but largely kept themselves to themselves as a close-knit family group, except to ask questions about where people came from and where they hoped to move on to when the work was finished. They were glad of the poor quality but hot stew that was served most evenings, and felt better than they had for some time. At night, Jen and Jeff slept naturally together in the straw in the corner of the communal barn, while Jack lay a little distance away as though guarding them from anyone foolish enough to try to steal from or molest his 'family'. He dozed only lightly most of the time, as the recurring, bloody vision of the man he'd shot at the start of this botched mission, coupled with the subconscious release of the deeper anguish of facing the rest of his life without Sam, repeatedly cut short the deeper sleep his body craved.
Gradually they acquired a superficial knowledge of place names and some slang everyday words. But most importantly, at the end of ten days, they were paid off with real Andan money, the first that they had acquired.
After retrieving Jack's pack containing the disassembled gun and the ammunition from where they had buried it under a nearby hedge, they set off again, this time knowing that the port that served the capital city Reha was only three days walk away across country. Although Andan army patrols were still seen occasionally, to all intents and purposes they were relatively safe if they kept away from major roads.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
After two weeks of working and sleeping on base, Sam finally realised that she had to take a break to be able to think out her rescue strategy more clearly. She had pestered General Warner and then General Hammond as much as she dared, but her friend's coded telephone message had already told her that a certain government agency had no interest in seeing O'Neill's quick return.
Her own duties had been confined to research in her laboratory, with no off- world trips planned for SG-1. Hailey's absence from the science crew meant that there was more than enough work to do anyway. So while she kept up the surface appearance of hard work and frequent vocal protests about the lack of a rescue mission, she quietly asked fellow SG team leaders on missions to try to get messages through to her father, currently located 'out there' with the Tok'ra, that she needed to see him urgently. But just when he would walk through the gate, she had no idea.
She had no sooner sat down at home after listening to all the phone messages, mostly from Pete, and then cleaning up the kitchen to remove the penicillin that had once masqueraded as milk in her fridge, when the door bell interrupted her first attempt at relaxation. She was shocked when she saw her boyfriend through the spy-hole, and opened the door.
"Sam!" he cried, stepping forward to hug her with one arm, at the same time holding a bunch of flowers in the other. "Surprise!"
As she automatically responded to his hug, her skin tingled in shock as she realised that she hadn't planned for this. "Pete! What are you doing..?"
"I called that friend of yours, Daniel. He told me you'd be home tonight at last and so I thought I'd come straight over and welcome you back!" he said joyfully. "God, I've so missed you, Sam. Tell me you missed me." he added, looking straight into her eyes.
She wasn't ready to admit that she'd hardly thought about him at all since her return, nor had she the faintest idea what she was going to say. So she grunted a reply, and invited him into the lounge. She accepted the flowers and took her time placing them in a vase of water in the kitchen. Pete came in as she was drying her hands.
"I knew you'd like a treat, so I booked a table that dance restaurant where we first met." he added, walking over and placing his arm round her. "And afterwards, we can celebrate like we usually do and aim for a late breakfast! What do you say, Sammie? Sound good?"
Random thoughts, none of them constructive or relevant, tumbled through her mind as she searched for a reply. The one that was least welcome was the fleeting image of Jack limping away from her as she'd left to board the boat on Andar - not surprising really, as that same scene had burned its way into her memory at least a thousand times since then.
"But I'm not dressed for that kind of evening." she protested at last. "I'm still in work clothes."
"Nonsense!" he replied. "The table's not booked for another hour, so there's plenty of time to change. But if you're really tired, we can just go to eat."
"No, I'm sorry." she stammered. "Look, I've got to talk to you. Something's happened at work."
Pete dropped his encircling arm and stepped away. "Not that god-damned charade that you call 'deep space radar telemetry' again? Sam, I learned my lesson. I won't pry into what you really do, but it's only a job! It shouldn't get in the way of what we have together!"
"Well, it's important to me!" she retorted. "I don't tell you that you're 'only a detective', do I?"
"But that's what I am! I've told you before that I'd move with you if you got a decent job outside the Air Force anywhere else in the country." he almost shouted.
"And I've told you that I'm not giving it up!" Sam responded equally loudly. "People depend on me, and I'm not going to let them down!" Seeing his shocked expression, she calmed down and uttered the fatal words in a much quieter voice. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this any more, Pete. The situation at work has changed, and.. And so have I."
He stood there, stunned. Sam's face reddened and she found that she couldn't look him in the eye. After a moment's silence, he whispered, "I suppose that someone in particular is depending on you, not just people in general?"
Sam exhaled. "Yes. To tell the truth, Pete, yes. He might die if I'm not there for him, and I'll never forgive myself if he does. I'm so sorry."
"Oh." was all he could say for a while. Then his mood changed visibly. "So you just fell for this guy these last two weeks, then? Felt like you needed a change of scene and took the opportunity?"
"No, it wasn't like that.."
"*It wasn't like that*" he mimicked sarcastically. "Yeah, that's what they all say."
"No, it *wasn't* like that!" she came back at him, mad as hell. "You were the one I fell for, and he was the one who got hurt all those weeks ago!" She stopped suddenly as the realisation of what she'd just said hit home to both of them.
"You two-timing bitch." he said calmly, walking away into the night and not turning round as the front door swung shut behind him.
She'd never felt so alone, sitting on the kitchen floor with tears streaming down her face. Bridges were well and truly burning and she hadn't yet found the road ahead.
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