Carter and Teal'c were doing their level best to avoid O'Neill as he paced the USO lounge at Dulles waiting for their flight to be called. Dr. Janet Frasier followed their lead. At her own request, she had joined the search in case Dr. Jackson needed immediate medical attention when he was found. O'Neill had already spent half an hour on his cell phone haranguing the "cultural attach" to dig up more on the group that Daniel had worked for in England, but so far the man had had little success. The private jet, they had already learned in Colorado, had been rented specifically for this flight. The documentation provided the rental agency had already been checked. The money trail there led to an off-shore dummy corporation and then stopped. That in itself gave them some information. This group was obviously well funded and well connected, and that was perhaps why O'Neill was angry the most. Daniel had hidden something from them...something dangerous, and if there was something dangerous to a member of his team then O'Neill expected to damn well be informed of it!

"Colonel O'Neill," a timid voice asked from the door. O'Neill turned to find a middle aged woman standing hesitantly in the doorway. "My name's Mary Anderson. My supervisor said you wanted to speak with me," she informed him. She didn't add that her supervisor had refused to come anywhere near the irate Air Force colonel again after his own close encounter with O'Neill's temper.

"Yes," the colonel agreed as he clamped down on his emotions having noted the poor customs agent was scared to death. "Last night you handled a medivac flight to England?"

"Ye...yes" Mary stuttered as she became aware of the intense interest of the other three uniformed people in the room. She felt sure the big man standing with his hands behind his back could snap her in half without breaking a sweat.

"Tell us everything you can remember," Jack commanded. "What did the passengers looked like? What were they wearing? Anything they said?"

"The condition of their patient," Janet added.

"Ww...well, the man on the gurney," she said taking the last question first. "He had bandages on his head, and his face was bruised. They said he'd had an accident skiing...like Sonny Bono." She watched as the four in uniform traded a look, but unlike SG-1 and Frasier she was unaware that the story that had been given in Colorado Springs was a car accident.

"Did he have an IV?" she asked. "He was unconscious?"

"No...no IV," the customs agent answered recognizing the term and the device from television. "He was out cold though. They said he was in a coma."

Jack took a picture of the team from his wallet, one Cassie had taken of them in the park. "Is that the man on the gurney?" he asked pointing to Daniel's grinning face.

"Why...yes!" she exclaimed. "I think it is. His face was so bruised..." she murmured as she looked at the picture. When she looked up the faced that had been gravely serious now showed intense worry. "He's your friend?"

"Yeah," Jack acknowledged, "and his name isn't Nigel Lynch."

"Oh!" she exclaimed even as she thought to herself what a story she'd have to tell her husband when she got home. This experience which had a moment before been frightening was now terribly thrilling. 'A kidnapping! Just imagine,' she thought wondering just what the bookish man could do for the military that he had been kidnapped for.

Jack could see all of this in her expression. 'How surprised would she be at the answer?' he wondered. Aloud he asked, "Did you notice any tattoos or anything to identify them that wouldn't be in their passport photos?"

"Tattoos," the customs agent immediately answered warming to their questions. "They had identical tattoos on their wrists. I noticed because I thought it was a pretty design, and then I saw that they all had it."

"Could you draw this design for us?" Jack demanded. 'Now we're getting somewhere,' he thought. Identical tattoos might mean a club or society or military unit. If they could identify the group, it would make tracking Daniel's kidnappers easier.

"Yes," Mary said. "I think I can." She took the paper Carter handed her and within minutes after a few failed attempts had a fair approximation of the tattoo she'd seen. "That's close," she finally declared. "I don't think I can do any better."

"That's fine," Sam soothed as she took the paper back. "I'll fax this to Paul Davis. He should be able to run it through the databases for us."

Jack nodded then asked Mary, "They spoke with British accents?"

"Two did," Mary agreed. "The other was French."

Jack nodded. This matched the passport information they already had, but it was good to have confirmation. The passports were being checked now, but Jack was pretty certain they would turn up to be fakes. The accents were less likely to be faked though. So to England they would go and just pray that they found Daniel in time.