By the time Morgan had finished telling River the history of the Stargate program on Earth – with just a little modification – River had ended up sitting down on the arm of one of the sofas, listening with rapt attention as he was told a story that sounded far more fiction than fact – but was just enough fact to be believable.

Especially in light of some of the whacked out things he'd seen the last year – including some technology that was just way too advanced to be American – or even Japanese for that matter. The device that had beamed them out of that mess when they'd been kidnapped, for instance, and those invisible guys that he'd been told were escaped political prisoners. How would escaped prisoners get their hands on something like that? And where in Colorado Springs would they have escaped from? And why were there so many armed guards under NORAD if it was just a research and development area? He'd been there. He'd seen them. And why would there even be an infirmary there? There couldn't be that many explosions from messed up experiments. But, if people – teams of people – were going through this Stargate and running into hostile aliens, then of course they'd need a place to be fixed up – a place that was far from the public eye.

And that might explain some of Ian's recent injuries, as well.

The more he listened, the more things fell into place. And the crazier it all seemed. But it also brought up new questions – and River was never one to refrain from asking questions.

"So…"

Morgan paused when River interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Why are you telling me about this? This stuff has to be Top Secret, at least – if not higher. I'm not cleared for this kind of-"

"I'm not in the military, River," Morgan said. "I told you; we work for a group of people who have a different idea of how the Stargate should be used."

"But the military controls the Stargate…"

"The Stargate under Cheyenne Mountain, yes."

"There's more than one?"

Morgan hesitated. He wasn't ready to divulged all that many of the Trust's secrets until he was certain of the boy's loyalties. And at the moment, he wasn't.

"If there was?" He asked. "What do you think it should be used for?"

OOOOOOO

Jason Pleasant was one of the men that traveled and worked with John Smith. Most of the time he was simply there to run errands that Smith couldn't – and sometimes look intimidating. At the moment his responsibilities were to keep people away from the back room of The Coffee House. It hadn't been that hard to convince the manager of the place (with the help of a couple hundred bucks) to let them monopolize it for the discussion between Hayden, Smith and Morgan, but he and his partner Andrew Bennett were still required to stand near the door and keep people from going in there, politely informing them that the room was off limits for the moment. Because of his size, and the way he was dressed – he loved looking like a spook, because it drew attention and respect from the regular run of the mill type people – most customers didn't even argue, they just turned away and headed for a booth.

"Crap."

Bennett's oath drew Pleasant's attention towards the front of the coffee shop.

"What?"

"We've got problems."

Bennett had just happened to glance out the window when the convertible pulled up into the parking lot. The fact that it had looked familiar drew his attention to it, and the minute he saw who was driving it he felt an instant of panic that had nothing to do with their secret getting out, and everything to do with the big gun that had been pointed at him the day before. He'd forced that down immediately, of course, disgusted with himself for even feeling that way – and had turned to Pleasant before the car had even stopped.

Pleasant walked over to the window as well, accidentally bumping a patron and making him spill his coffee.

"Hey!"

"Sorry."

Absently, he handed the man a twenty, and then headed for the back room. This was bad.

OOOOOO

"I don't know," River said, shrugging. It wasn't like he'd had a lot of time to ponder the question. "I suppose if-"

He was interrupted by the arrival of the man who had initially blocked his way out of the room. Morgan looked over as Pleasant came through the door, a reprimand already on his lips when he saw the worried look in his underling's expression.

"What is it, Jason?"

"We have a problem, Sir," Pleasant said, softly, not willing to tell him what it was with Hayden in the room.

Morgan looked over at Smith, who stood up and headed for the door, correctly taking the look to mean he was supposed to go check it out. He didn't even make it to the door.

"Shit."

Smith wheeled, turning to Morgan, who was ready to tell him off for using profanities.

"We need to go! Now."

River frowned.

"What's going on?"

Morgan stood up, now, and went to the door as well, ignoring River's question. Looking out the door, across the room and following Bennett's gaze out the large front window, he was hard pressed to muffle a curse of his own. He knew who Ian Brooks was by the photo in his file, of course – and there was no doubt that the young man standing beside the sports car with him was Jack O'Neill's son. He looked just like him.

"How did they find us?" he asked Smith.

"I-"

"Did you tell anyone where you were going?" Morgan asked a mystified River.

"No. Just that I was coming downtown to meet someone. What's-"

"We have to go, Mr. Hayden," Morgan said, already heading for the emergency exit that was in the back of the room. He and his men had disabled the alarm without the manager knowing, in the event that they'd need to make a hasty exit. But none of them had ever expected this to be the reason why they'd need to leave. "I'd like to finish this conversation, though, somewhere else. Will you come with us?"

River frowned, and shook his head.

"I don't-"

Pleasant came up behind him, already heading for the door, and grabbed him by the arm – while Smith did the same from the other side.

"Hey!"

Smith's hand came up, covering his mouth, and both men tightened their grips as River started struggling, yelling at them from behind Smith's hand, his curses muffled.

"Relax, River," Morgan said as he opened the door, the bright afternoon sunshine pouring in and blinding them all momentarily. "We're not going to hurt you. But I really want to finish this conversation without interruption."

OOOOOOOO

"What's up, Ian?" Shawn asked, wondering what had the New Yorker so pissed off all of the sudden.

Ian didn't answer, instead reaching for his glove box, and then hesitating. It wasn't exactly like he was in the middle of nowhere, after all, and there was really no way he'd risk something happening with the Glock and some innocent bystander getting hurt. Besides, it was a public place. There was no way those guys were going to try pulling guns on him here.

"Stay here, Shawn," Ian said, heading for the door of the coffee shop.

"No way…"

Shawn wasn't under Ian's command, and knew he didn't have to do what he'd been told to do. Besides, he wanted to know what was going on. When Ian opened the door to The Coffee House, Shawn was right behind him – and both of them saw the well dressed men in the dark suits vanish into the other room – although only Ian knew they were the ones they were looking for.

Ian broke into a sprint, heading for the doorway, and Shawn was right behind him, scattering confused customers and drawing the attention of the manager, who was about to yell at them for disrupting things. Then a shot rang out in the back room, and everyone was suddenly yelling and screaming, and diving for the floor.