Chapter 7

Jake made his way down the hall slowly, feeling a deep sense of unease at how easy it had all become since he'd made it into the building. The large central space had been completely empty, but corridors branched off from both sides leading to a series of offices, meeting rooms and storage areas that lined the outer walls of the cavernous building. The right corridor had conveniently been filled with construction debris so his only choice had been to go left. Jake felt like a rat being shuttled through a maze, each twist and turn predetermined by the person running the test. Lucky for me I don't believe in predetermination, Jake thought as he moved carefully down the hall, I believe in making my own luck.

He went to take another step and felt a sudden tension against his shin. He hadn't heard the telltale click of activation, but still he stopped, not stepping back immediately, but instead leaning over to see if the tripwire had been pulled far enough to activate or if it was still safe to move his leg back without the device going off. He took a relieved breath when his eyes followed the wire back to its source and saw the lever it was attached to was just short of the activation mark. The charge it was connected to wasn't powerful enough to kill, but it would wound and could possibly render him unconscious. So we really are playing hardball, aren't we, he thought as he carefully slid his foot backward and clear of the wire.

The corridor had low level illumination from the occasional glass paned office door that allowed some of the afternoon sun from the outer office windows to filter through. But most of it was steeped in shadow, making traps like the one he had just barely avoided difficult to detect. Dropping to his knees, Jake pulled out a small flashlight and focused its beam along the floor hoping to catch the glint of light off the wire of any additional trips that were close by. Spotting a glint three feet further down the corridor and another at close to six, he swore quietly under his breath.

He turned the problem over in his mind and a smile spread across his face when suddenly the answer was there. Just like old times, he mused.

Jack O'Neill shook his head in amazement when he found the three bodies spread out near the back entrance to the warehouse. He caught the glint of metal out of the corner of his eye and found the stash of P-90s hidden carelessly under a pile of leaves. He felt a stab of gratitude for just a moment then stopped, suspicious of his good luck, and quickly pulled the clip from the first gun. Torn between admiration for the kid's ingenuity when he saw the pebbles and annoyance that he wouldn't be able to use the weapon, O'Neill put it back where he'd found it. Knowing it was useless, he still checked the other two guns and found them in the same condition.

Sighing heavily, he started toward the back door when suddenly there was a loud explosion from inside. Throwing caution to the wind, he raced through the door, his heart pumping with fear at what he might find inside.

"Tsk, tsk," the young man who'd been posing as a computer technician at the school said from his perch seated cross-legged on top of a dilapidated desk to Colonel Sanford, who was bound and gagged at his feet, his dark eyes sending bolts of pure fury at the harmless looking young man as he struggled fruitlessly with his bonds. "And he was doing so well too. What a pity. I was really hoping he'd make it this far at least."

"Well, since you've gone to so much trouble on my behalf, I wouldn't want to disappoint you," Jake said from the doorway, his voice dripping sarcasm, as he aimed the zat at the center of the man's chest.

The young man clapped and said delightedly, "Marvelous, simply marvelous. You are all we expected and more. Even better than the original if you don't mind my saying so."

Jake's eyes had done a quick sweep of the room but he couldn't see Lindsay anywhere, only the man bound and gagged at the young man's feet. He frowned when it registered that the young man held no weapons that he could see, but instead had a goa'uld control device wrapped around his hand and wrist.

"Xerox is making better and better copies these days," Jake quipped coolly. "Where's Lindsay?"

The young man laughed lightly. "So direct and to the point. Give me my woman back or I'll pound you. The old caveman instinct at work. I knew the minute I saw her with you that she was the perfect bait for this particular trap, and I wouldn't need any of the others. I'm actually very glad of that. The logistics of trying to get them all here without anyone realizing there was a problem were proving very difficult."

Jake held the zat out and pressed his finger against the firing mechanism. "Gee, I'm so sorry to have put you to so much trouble," he said mockingly. "Last chance. Where's Lindsay."

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be so petulant. You don't really believe I'm foolish enough to be here totally alone without any backup do you? And how do you know Lindsay's even here? She might be up on the ship. And if she's on the ship and I don't report in when I'm supposed to, well, one of my colleagues might get upset about that and decide that her disappearing permanently wouldn't be such a big deal after all. Young girls her age run away or simply disappear all the time. She'll just end up another unfortunate statistic."

"I wouldn't be so sure of my backup if I were you," Jake said coldly, putting the hand not holding the zat in his pocket and pulling out six sets of dogtags that he tossed on the ground in between them.

The man simply laughed again, but Jake saw the bound man's eyes widen in shock when he saw the tangle of chains and metal glittering on the floor.

"You think those incompetents were mine?" the young man said with amusement. "How insulting! No my dear boy, they belong to our good friend Colonel Sanford here, who's from special forces. Someone there came up with the bright idea that they should recruit you. You really can't blame them; I mean, what covert group wouldn't want its very own Jack O'Neill. And, since you are technically already one of their alums, I guess they felt they deserved first dibs on you.

"But as we'd already had the same idea, we decided to ride the good Colonel's coattails and let him lay all the ground work, then just sweep in at the end and scoop you up. We figured once you saw their level of incompetence for yourself, you'd decide to come to work for the better team. We have a great deal more to offer you than the U.S. government will ever be willing to provide."

"What makes you think I'd ever agree to work with you," Jake said contemptuously. "I can't stand the NID or anything it stands for."

"Now, now, Jack. Don't be that way."

"My name is not Jack, it's Jake," he exploded. "J-A-K-E. It's not that hard."

The man's smile faded. "We both know exactly who you are, young man, so don't get an attitude with me. There's no need for you to hide your true identity, your true self, from me or anyone else in my organization, Jack. It must have been hell for you the last year -- having to submerge that delightfully eccentric Jack O'Neill personality and try to be someone else entirely just to fit in -- and at high school of all places. What a total waste of your time and talents."

He unfolded his legs and stretched them easily before hopping down from the desk as he continued speaking. "Believe it or not I can sympathize. I was once in deep cover for over two years. It tears you apart inside to not be able to see your family or friends, or even have them know where you are or that you're even alive. And I imagine it must be worse for you to have to watch that crotchety old has-been strut around in his dress uniform with the Brigadier General insignia and all the medals you earned on his chest."

Jake remained quiet but alert as the man moved closer, unconsciously tensing the hand holding the zat as he continued staring stonily at him, not responding to the taunt.

The man stopped a few feet from Jake, returning the teen's stare directly, then shook his head sadly. "It's pathetic really. The great and mighty Jack O'Neill reduced to pushing papers behind a desk while those younger, stronger and smarter go after the bad guys. It doesn't have to be that way, Jack. You're one of those younger, stronger and smarter guys now. You should be out there fighting the good fight. Carrying the O'Neill banner into the fray. Doing what needs to be done to save this country, this world from those alien parasites."

"You are so full of shit I'm surprised you don't simply explode," Jake snarled. "You don't know anything about Jack and you don't know anything about me. If you did, you'd know he's a better man than any of you will ever be, and that I'd rather be dead than have anything to do with the likes of you. You and your people aren't heroes. It's bad enough you're vultures who feed on the vulnerabilities of other cultures to steal their technology, but to top it off you're a bunch of pathetic losers who can only get your own way by kidnapping helpless teenagers. You're just as bad as the goa'uld."

The man's hand snaked out in violent fury and his closed fist smashed brutally into Jake's face. The teenager had no time to dodge and he wasn't ready to call the man's bluff about Lindsay by shooting him, so he had no choice but to take the full force of the blow. The guy was stronger than he looked and the power of the punch sent him sprawling, a web of pain radiating through the side of his face. Trying to assess the damage through the spots dancing in front of his eyes, Jake cautiously moved his jaw and was relieved when the pain didn't get worse. He thought his cheekbone might be cracked or broken, but the jaw seemed fine.

"Temper, temper," Jake taunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He brushed a hand against his face where he'd been hit and instantly regretted it when a fresh wave of pain radiated out from the definitely fractured cheekbone.

"You haven't seen anything yet, boy," the man sneered. "While it certainly would have been easier if you'd been agreeable to joining us as an equal in our battle, we still have some use for you as a prisoner. Our scientists have been running some tests and have made some very interesting discoveries in the last few months. They are pretty much guaranteeing that the third generation Jack O'Neill clone will be much more receptive to working with us. And," he added gleefully, "once they find Colonel Sanford here with a bullet in his head from your gun and hear the testimony of all his men that you took down today, the only thing your friends in the U.S. government are going to want you for is a firing squad."

Jake's eyes widened in surprise for a moment at the audacity of the plan. He recovered quickly and, the pain in his face forgotten, said with derision, "Go ahead. You're dumber than you look if you think you're ever going to lure any O'Neill to the dark side, Palpatine. You want to set yourself up a jedi factory, go ahead. We'll run out of J names eventually, but, hey, that's our problem right. Our little O'Neill army will be too busy stomping on your stupid NID asses to worry about it."

The man snarled at him and started to throw another punch when there was a loud explosion from the hallway. Startled, he stopped mid swing and turned toward the door; Jake took advantage of that moment of distraction to spring on him, grabbing his wrist to keep him from activating the transport device that would beam him back to the ship or any other goodies that might be tied into the goa'uld device.

The man struggled desperately, trying to pull himself free until Jake kneed him hard in the groin causing him to collapse slowly to the ground, groaning loudly. Jake kept hold of his wrist and quickly peeled the goa'uld device off it, trying to remember how to activate the thing.

He jumped, startled, when a voice came from the doorway. "You need help with that, kid?"

A smile spread across Jake's face when he saw Jack O'Neill framed in the doorway, a P-90 cradled in his arms. "You might not want to use that if it's one of the ones from out back," Jake said.

O'Neill returned the smile. "Oh, I saw your enhancements to those and decided I needed one of my own. So I got this one from the guy out front."

"Cool," Jake responded. "We need to find Lindsay. I think she's up on their ship."

"You better tie him up and check him for weapons or communication devices. We don't need him alerting the others to the new world order down here, especially if we have to go up there."

"I was getting there," Jake said. "I've done most of the hard work already, so I thought maybe you'd want a turn."

"You've got things pretty well in hand, here, kid. I don't want to get in the way."

A muffled sound from the other side of the room drew both of their attention to Sanford, who was still struggling to free himself. Jake just glared at him in disgust then went to work patting down his prisoner and trussing him up.

With a mirroring look of disgust, O'Neill stepped over to Sanford, pulled out his knife and cut the gag from the man's mouth. Sanford started to speak, but before he could get anything out, O'Neill cut him off, snapping, "Where's the girl."

Sanford sucked in a deep breath and sputtered, "I don't know anything about any girl, O'Neill. I told your Colonel Carter that. Right after I hung up with her and General Hammond this guy just appeared out of nowhere and zatted me. When I woke up he had me all tied up and gagged."

"Has anyone else been in or out of here since then?"

"No," Sanford replied. As O'Neill started to turn away, Sanford shouted after him, "Where are you going, O'Neill. Cut me loose. I need to check on my men. He didn't kill any of them did he?" he asked anxiously, looking at Jake with a mixture of awe, distrust and fear.

"Your men are fine, Sanford," O'Neill responded impatiently. "We don't go around killing people for no good reason, although come to think of it, your incompetence and utter stupidity in pulling off this entire operation is a good enough reason for me right now."

O'Neill pulled out his cellphone and hit the on button. Before he could start dialing, the phone rang. He hit the switch and heard Daniel's frantic voice, "Jack, where are you. We heard an explosion just as we drove up. Are you and Jake okay?"

"We're fine. Is Carter with you?"

"Yes."

"Okay, I need you all to come inside and start searching the offices and storerooms along the corridor. We still don't have the girl and I need to know if she's here before we head up to their ship. And Daniel," he added, "tell Carter to take lead. There were some booby traps set up. I think I got them all, but she knows what to look for. Jake will be starting down this end so keep an eye out for him."

"O-kay," Daniel breathed out nervously, "did you hear that," his voice came more distantly through the phone.

"We're on it, sir." Came Carter's disembodied voice. "Let's go."

Jake had finished with his prisoner as O'Neill was talking on the phone and he signaled to O'Neill that he was going to begin the search. O'Neill nodded acknowledgment, then held up a hand to stop him. "Hold on a minute, Carter."

Covering the phone with one hand, O'Neill made a motioning gesture to Jake with the other, "Give it to me."

"What?" Jake asked innocently.

"You know what," O'Neill said with annoyance. "You've gone off on your own enough for one day. You're not going up to that ship without backup. Now give it to me before I have to come over there and take it from you."

"As if," Jake snorted, but reluctantly reached into his pocket and held the goa'uld controller out to O'Neill, who took it from him with a withering gaze and dropped it in his own pocket. "Be careful, kid. Oh, and turn your cellphone back on so we can reach you if someone else finds her."

Jake nodded, then reached into his pocket and pulled out two walkie talkies and tossed one to O'Neill. "If the cell doesn't work, use this," then headed out the door.

O'Neill shook his head in exasperation and returned to his conversation, "One more thing, Carter. I'm sending Colonel Sanford out to release his men so they can assist you. No matter how tempting it is, don't shoot him."

"Yes, sir," Carter responded, not bothering to try to hide her amusement.

Reluctantly, O'Neill pulled his knife out again and quickly freed Sanford from his bonds. "You heard what I said, Sanford. I want you to gather your men and help us search for that girl. If she's not found, I intend to put you alone in a room with her parents after explaining to them that it's your fault she's missing in the first place."

Sanford scowled at him but didn't reply as he hurried for the door.

O'Neill stayed in the room, glaring at their tightly bound but defiant prisoner who only scowled darkly back at him in return, unwilling to risk leaving the man alone to possibly disappear if he went to join the search.

Jake moved from room to room stealthily, the zat held at the ready. His search of each area was quick and thorough, but after making it through ten rooms with no sign of Lindsay, he was ready to bolt back to the room where Jack was waiting and force him to activate the transporter to send them up to the ship.

He almost jumped out of his skin when his cellphone rang and he pulled it out clumsily, his hands suddenly shaky. "This is Jake."

Carter's voice came over the line, "We found her, Jake. She's unconscious but alive. There's no sign of any kind of injury so we think they may have just drugged her to keep her out of the way."

Jake sank down to his knees, the relief washing over him leaving him momentarily unable to move. "Where are you?"

"The right corridor, about halfway down on the right side."

"I'll be right there," Jake said and snapped the phone closed, holding it pressed tightly in one hand as he braced his elbows on his knees and pressed his balled fists against his forehead while rocking on the balls of his feet as he tried to pull himself together. The need to see that Lindsay was okay overrode everything else, and he finally pulled himself to his feet and raced down the hall to find her.

Twenty minutes later, having seen that Lindsay was safe and having been assured that Daniel and Teal'c planned to stay with her, Jake was back in the room where he had left his prisoner, preparing to transport up to the ship with O'Neill.

"The transport device is designed for only one person but if you're both touching it when it's activated" Carter said, "it's possible it will take you both. I'm hoping that since your DNA is identical it will read you as one entity."

"Just as long as it doesn't get confused and scramble all that DNA on the way up," O'Neill said carelessly, earning an uneasy glare from Jake.

"The Prometheus has been put on alert and is scanning for the ship," Carter continued, "but the ship's cloaking shields appear to be operational, so we're not having much luck yet."

Their prisoner glared at them from the floor, still tightly trussed up and maintaining his silence. Despite his own anger, O'Neill had had to restrain Jake, and himself, in order to keep their questioning from drifting too close to the line of torture. Sometimes it's a pain in the ass being the good guys, he thought peevishly.

"You ready," he asked Jake, who nodded.

O'Neill thumbed the transport control, but nothing happened. Concerned, he thumbed it again.

"What's wrong?" Jake asked.

"I don't know," O'Neill replied tensely.

"Maybe just one of you should try," Carter said hesitantly.

Jake glared at Jack for a moment but finally sighed heavily and stepped back, clearly frustrated at not being able to be in on the kill.

Jack's eyes met Jake's for a moment and transmitted the silent message, Don't worry, I'll get them for this.

Jake nodded and Jack thumbed the control again. Still nothing. Jack's eyes went to their prisoner, who was still sitting on the floor, but his defiant glare had turned to the look of a trapped animal.

"So, mister big shot, your playmates have deserted you, have they?" Jack taunted. "Just turned tail and ran, like the cowards they are, leaving you behind to face the music alone. That sorta changes the playing field doesn't it. You'd better do some serious thinking about how you're going to save your own ass now."

The man just stared back at him, but O'Neill could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

O'Neill turned his attention to Jake. "I'm sorry, kid."

"It's okay. It's not your fault," Jake muttered. "I want to go check on Lindsay again anyway."

"We've sent a message for her parents to meet us at the base. The cover story is that some guy with a crush tried to abduct her, but you noticed she was missing and called in the cavalry. That's what we tell her, her family and anyone else that asks. Got it?"

"No," Jake said firmly. "You're not going to do that to her. It's not fair to make her think what happened was somehow her fault. We'll stick as close to the truth as we can. The cover story is that somebody tried to abduct your cousin in order to blackmail you and took her to use as bait because they knew she was a friend of his."

O'Neill stared at him for a moment, considering. "That's a really bad plan, kid. I don't want it getting out that you're my cousin. It'll paint a target on you for anybody else who might want to try something like this. And I really, really don't want anyone looking too closely into your background. They might start asking questions we'll have a hard time answering."

"Tough luck if they do," Jake said with finality. "Come up with something better if you can, but I'm not letting you use Lindsay as a diversionary tactic. She's been through enough already because of me. If you try and float that lame ass story, I'm not going to back it up.

"Besides why do you even need to have a cover story? It's not like any of this is going to be on the news or in the newspapers. You've got this place buttoned up like Fort Knox. The only people who are going to know anything happened here are us, Sanford and his guys, Lindsay and her parents and our prisoner. And none of them have any reason to talk about it."

O'Neill tried to stare Jake down, but got only the same stubborn stare mirrored back at him. Finally, he gave a heavy sigh and capitulated, "Okay, you win. We'll do it your way."

The teen nodded as if there had never been any doubt.

"You did good today, Jake," O'Neill added, his attitude softening a little. "She might not be alive if you hadn't kept your head."

"Yeah, well, she never would have been in danger in the first place if she hadn't tried to be my friend," Jake responded wearily as he ran his hand through his hair, before turning and stalking out of the room.

O'Neill watched him go, sympathy playing briefly across his features, before he turned back to the difficult job of cleaning up Sanford's mess. As he opened his mouth to start issuing orders, his cellphone rang again. Cursing under his breath, he pulled it out and, without looking at the caller i.d., hit the switch and snarled, "O'Neill."

"Jack? Is that you? This is Henry Hayes."

O'Neill's eyes closed briefly as he did a silent d'oh in his head. "Yes, Mr. President, it's me. Sorry, it's been a rough day."

"It usually is for you, isn't it Jack," Hayes said sympathetically. "Listen, I got your fax. What the hell is going on? This picture you sent me is of a kid. I was told by my advisors that this person was a clone of you, that's the only reason I accepted their recommendation to allow special forces to recruit him. I just assumed he was an adult."

"It's difficult to explain, Mr. President," O'Neill said wearily, rubbing a hand across his forehead and running it down the side of his face. "If you don't mind, sir, General Hammond can explain it all to you. Right now we're in the middle of mopping up a major mess. The rogue NID cell found out about the operation at the school and attempted an end run around special forces to get to the boy. And they kidnapped the daughter of one of our SGC base personnel to bait their trap."

"My God! Is anyone hurt? Were there any casualties?" Hayes asked, alarmed.

"No. No lives lost. Jake's fine, we have the girl back and she'll be fine, and we have ourselves an NID prisoner. We were very close to also getting on their ship again, but they got away from us before we could spring that trap."

"It sounds like we owe you another debt of gratitude, Jack."

"Does that mean I'm not going to be kicked out on my ass for disobeying a direct order not to interfere with the special forces operation?" O'Neill asked point blank.

Hayes was speechless for a moment. "Jack, I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression something like that was a possibility. It may not seem like it, but I genuinely appreciate all your hard work – and your brass balls. If anybody tries to give you any flack for this, I'll be there to back you up."

"Thank you, sir. I appreciate that."

"I need to get back to my summit. I'll give you or Hammond a call later to get that explanation. I'll bet it's a doozy."

"Yes, sir," O'Neill said, then snapped the phone closed and simply stared at it a moment. Oh well, so much for all that extra fishing time, he thought wistfully as he began barking orders.