Daniel was waiting for his luggage in the Ben Gurion International Airport located in Tel Aviv. He had only one medium sized rucksack. Years in the SG program had taught him how to pack efficiently, if nothing else.
Sighting the bag on the carousel, he reached out and snagged it, easily lifting it despite his tiredness. The flight that'd brought him halfway across the globe had been grueling. First, a short flight to the LA International Airport. Then a half-day's delay waiting for the red-eye trans-pacific to Tokyo. From there, he'd been stuck in stopover until the plane could refuel and continue on to Tel Aviv. He still had a long way to go - travelling past Jerusalem ninety minutes by jeep, along the southbound road to Madasa. The dig was located off this road, in an oasis on the brink of the Dead Sea.
Moving to through security and customs, Daniel waited, more exhausted than patient, as his belongings were meticulously searched before he was allowed to exit the airport. All he wanted to do was curl up in a vacant corner of the world and go to sleep. Checking his watch before he realized the fruitlessness of the action, he gave up for the afternoon, checking into a small hotel where he could sleep until morning.
Reaching his small room, he pulled out a postcard he had purchased in LAX, and quickly jotted a note to Cassie, telling her he had arrived safely in Tel Aviv and sending her his love. Tossing a few stamps on it, he trotted down to the hotel's postal service and shelled out for rush delivery.
Yawning, he returned to his room and collapsed, sure in the knowledge that someone from the dig would be picking him up the following afternoon.
He slept for near eighteen hours, waking up at seven the next morning, local time. After showering, shaving, and eating, he felt much more human and wandered around Tel Aviv for hours, finally feeling the freedom and delight in his passion that he had been blocked away from for months. He was not safe - this part of the world never was. Yet he was in no more danger than anyone else. He was not back at Colorado Springs, locked away under the mountain and treated like a flaky civilian. He wasn't on another planet, risking life and limb against evil forces that hated and targeted him. And he realized with a shock, that now he had time. There was no rush to have the entirety of the dig at Ein Gedi catalogued, translated and wrapped up by lunchtime. He didn't have to scramble, take shortcuts, and generally practice sloppy archaeology in search for the quick resolution.
This knowledge both comforted and relaxed him greatly. As he ate a solitary lunch in a streetside deli, Daniel felt more at ease than he had in years.
Returning to the hotel, he packed his things and checked out, ready to meet the dig representative at an earlier, agreed-upon café. He left, dressed casually and unremarkably in old, worn jeans, an equally worn t-shirt, and cracked, broken-in hiking boots. Swinging the rucksack onto his shoulders, he made his way to the café, where he sat at an outside table.
He'd been waiting for about ten minutes when a man in slacks and a shirt, with a suit jacket slung over his arm, approached him. Dark glasses hid his eyes. "Dr. Daniel Jackson?"
He didn't look like he worked on a dig, Daniel mused, taking in his light colored skin and soft features. He had a bad feeling about this.
"Yes," he said simply. "Who are you?"
"I'm a representative," the man said. Daniel's mouth tightened. NID. "I've come to offer you a place within our ranks."
"I'm sorry, I'm not interested," said Daniel politely, pushing his chair back slightly.
"I have a gun aimed directly at you," the man continued conversationally. Daniel's eyes flickered to the jacket over his arm, which was conveniently covering his hand. "Perhaps you'd like to continue this discussion elsewhere? We wouldn't want anyone to get hurt."
Daniel rose slowly, keeping his hands in plain sight at all times. He allowed the man to lead him away from the café, and down an unused street. Readying himself, Daniel turned slowly.
The man was still fully focused on him, and Daniel knew that he was waiting for reinforcements. The man pulled the jacket off his arm, revealing the automatic pistol in his hand.
Daniel didn't wait any longer. Quickly, he twisted out of range and kicked out strongly. The gun skittered from the man's hand into the gutter. Daniel avoided the man's punch, getting between him and the gun, and drove the heel of his hand into the man's solar plexus. His attacker bent double, gasping for air, and Daniel delivered a precise, direct blow to the side of the man's neck, knocking him unconscious.
Checking to make sure he was still breathing, the archaeologist moved to the gun and checked it. The clip was full, and in addition there was a round in the chamber. Replacing the safety on the gun, Daniel ejected the bullet in the chamber and pocketed it, tucking the gun at the small of his back and pulling his t-shirt over the weapon to conceal it.
He'd cut himself adrift from the SGC, and the NID had come calling, less than willing to take no for an answer. He had no doubt that if he hadn't been able to incapacitate his attacker, he would have been crippled. He was needed alive, mentally functioning and with his hands intact. But that wouldn't have prevented the man from taking out one or both of his kneecaps, binding him to a wheelchair for the rest of his life.
Returning to the café, Daniel gathered his things and went to the bus station. The ever-present danger of bus bombings was outweighed by the sure threat of the NID. Luckily, buying a one-way ticket to Jerusalem didn't require any name or ID, so he was spared picking an alias and running the risk of local police interest in his actions. He knew that the NID would be tracking him, so he also bought three extra tickets - one to Nazarat Illit in the North District, one for Qiryat Yam in the Haifa District, and the last to Dimona in the Southern District.
He didn't think that this would throw the NID off his trail - instead, he hoped to spread their resources thin by forcing them to search for him all over Israel. Eventually they'd smarten up and start searching dig sites for him, knowing that he'd be at an excavation - but there were dozens of sites scattered across the country. With any luck, if he kept his head down he'd be able to avoid notice for the duration of his stay.
Glancing around the small station, Daniel left and made his way to a tiny deli located not far from the station. He'd need food if he planned to walk from Jerusalem to Ein Gedi - it was almost two hours by car, which translated to over a day's worth of walking, if he kept the pace swift. And he wanted to be able to see the road and not be seen from it, as well.
Lingering in the store, Daniel selected several cans of food, water and non-perishables, in addition to a can opener and matches. He put a few other useful items in the pile, and quickly retreated to the men's room after paying. In the relative privacy of the tiny cubicle, he packed his foodstuffs into his rucksack. It wouldn't do to display the fact that he thought he would be camping out for part of his trip. The NID was nothing if not obsessively observant.
Exiting unobtrusively by the back door, Daniel inconspicuously made his way straight to the bus headed for Jerusalem. He didn't see anyone following him, but the entirety of the bus ride he spent planning. It was an hour to Jerusalem, more or less, and the bus was hot, crowded, and - once the windows were opened to relieve the humidity - unbearably dusty. Thanking Janet once more for the heavy-duty allergy medicine she had insisted on giving him, Daniel finally disembarked in Jerusalem. He immediately headed to the bus station, where he exchanged the extra three tickets for three different ones.
Glancing at the clock, Daniel quickened his pace to catch another bus. He arrived there fifteen minutes early. Handing the driver his ticket, Daniel chose a seat directly in front of the rear exit to the bus. He waited as the bus filled, and at the last possible second disembarked, escaping the notice of the harried driver.
Grabbing his things, Daniel wandered aimlessly around Jerusalem for several hours before inquiring the easiest way to get to Kefar Sava, a city in the Central District. He stopped in several more establishments, asking directions to a different city in each District at the separate stores and restaurants.
When lunchtime came around, the city was bursting with people. Knowing that he blended into the crowd only to a limited extent, Daniel decided that now was the time to begin his journey.
He unobtrusively located the road that would take him to Madasa, and noted with pleasure that it was an absolute nightmare - rocky, twisty, the landscape on both sides abounding with scrub and brush, as well as large rock formations. As a result, it was rarely traveled, which would make it that much easier for him to avoid any approaching vehicles.
Daniel began to walk, assuming the alert mentality that prevailed whenever he was off-world. He used the cover available automatically, and kept a steady pace that he knew would see him to Ein Gedi. Several miles out from Jerusalem he stopped, out of view of the road behind a large rock outcropping. Wary of snakes and other desert wildlife, he built a small fire, heating a can of soup on a rock. He wouldn't be able to risk a fire when the sun went down - in all probability he'd be forced to move closer to the road so he didn't lose his way. Even though he wasn't particularly hungry now, he knew he would need to eat so that it wasn't an issue later.
The rest of SG-1 wouldn't believe it if they could see him now, he thought wryly. Not only was he stopping to eat of his own volition, but he was covering his tracks, and going armed. Daniel almost always carried a weapon with him whenever he went on digs. He'd forgone it this time, wanting to avoid the hassle of carrying a gun into an area where the possession of firearms was almost a guarantee of constant surveillance, especially if you happened to be foreign.
Eating his food, Daniel smothered the fire, making certain that the embers were completely out before dismantling the fire ring and sitting down to consume his meal. He missed them, but it was an old ache. He missed the way they used to be - and had been missing it for a long time.
The archaeologist stood decisively, packing away his utensils and trash. Taking a sip of water, he looked around the area. It wouldn't fool someone like Teal'c, but it would be impossible to tell from a helicopter that he'd been here.
As he walked, Daniel thought. Now that the NID was after him, he would be better served to use a false last name. He looked nothing like the nervous, excitable and somewhat earnest young scholar whose career had been trashed by a disastrous lecture nigh on six years ago. Much as he disliked the idea of taking Nick's last name, even in ruse, he had to take a name that he associated with himself, however distantly. Daniel Ballard, then. The linguist wrinkled his nose in distaste. At least this way, he wouldn't forget and rouse suspicion by failing to respond to the fake name.
Noting the position of the sun, Daniel looked back toward Jerusalem, lights beginning to twinkle in the distance. He'd covered maybe a third of the stretch to the Ein Gedi oasis. He'd continue on through the night, he decided. The sky was clear, the moon near full, and any cars would be forced to use their headlights, giving him ample time to get clear of view.
His decision made, Daniel began angling more towards the road as dusk settled over the hot land. The desert climate meant that temperatures dropped with the sun, so on one of his infrequent rest breaks, he pulled a sweatshirt from his pack, and over his head.
By the time the moon had risen, Daniel estimated that he was a little over halfway to the Ein Gedi oasis, having walked for near seven hours.
Headlights in the distance, coming from Jerusalem, caught his attention. They were far off, but Daniel still took no chances, immediately heading into the brush, striking out on a forty-five degree angle from the road. There was a stone outcropping not far from where he was, and he raced towards it.
Flinging himself around the opposite side of the craggy ridge, he tossed down his pack. The moon was high, and his watch told him that it was almost one in the morning. Mindful of snakes, scorpions and the like, Daniel plopped to the ground, resting against his pack.
Blinking, Daniel squinted. The sun was shining in his eyes. Grunting a little, he stood. He'd fallen asleep, his circadian rhythm out of whack from both 'gate and commercial travelling. It was slightly before six in the morning, he noted. Daniel took care of his personal needs before pulling on his pack and continuing, munching a power bar for breakfast.
If he kept a good pace, he'd likely make Ein Gedi after lunch. And, he noted wryly, he'd still be there earlier than he'd intended. Thinking over the events of the past day, it became clear to Daniel that he would know the strength of NID intelligence when he got to the dig. The entire scene at the café screamed of desperation - the linguist got the clear sense that they hadn't been really ready to apprehend him. If they had, he'd have been surrounded, hustled into a van, drugged out of his mind and locked away in Area 51 before he'd been able to blink. The fact that he'd escaped so easily suggested to him that they'd been tracking him, and on the verge of losing him, before they'd been forced to act. If he was wrong, he'd be trekking to Ein Gedi to find them waiting for him at the oasis.
Shaking these thoughts from his mind, Daniel noted that it was once again time to take cover in the brush. Checking the sun's position, he decided that it was also time to open another can of soup.
Building a little fire on the far side of a small hill, Daniel crouched over the flames, cooking his food. He gulped it down hot, wincing as the burning liquid seared down his throat. He only waited until he had completely snuffed the fire before consuming the rest.
Heartened by the food, the rest of Daniel's trip to the oasis went quickly. By noon, the dig was in sight. Girding up his courage, Daniel took a deep breath and left the road behind, cutting cross-country and ignoring the well-used dirt path as he made his way to what would be home for the next four months.
- - -- - - - - - -
Ok, new chapter, nice and early for you - just because I'm going to be running around like a crazed llama for the rest of the day, on account de el cumpleanos de me hermano menor. He'll be 13. Oi. Surprise parties are a pain . . .
But reviews always make me feel better!
Psst - andromeda90! 'Exuberantly joyful' according to the lembas7 RULES OF LIFE = deliriously happy to the point of dancing on tabletops!