Title: Outside the Lines: Exit Strategy
Author: Annerb
Rating: Teens
Summary: How far would you go to make your world right again?
Classifications: Action/Adventure, Drama, Angst, S/J
Season: 4 (Alternative storyline for 'Chain Reaction')
Disclaimer: The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-1, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

Exit Strategy

One, two, three, four.

Turn around.

One, two, three, four.

Sam quickly discovered that her cell was only four paces wide, roughly the length of the rock hard cot. Overall, though, it was the lap of luxury compared to some of the hellholes SG-1 had managed to land themselves in over the years. The natives on P7I-725 had once locked them in a pigsty when Jack had inadvertently insulted the chieftain's mother. That had definitely been worse. Although in some ways, Sam found the overbearing sterility of this place more disturbing.

Not to mention the solitude.

Sam shook off the thought and paced the length of her prison a couple more times before collapsing on her bunk and pulling her knees into her chest.

"If only Dad could see me now," she mumbled humorlessly to the empty room.

Not bothering to wait for a response that would never come, Sam dropped her head onto her arms in exhaustion; replaying the events of the night over and over in her mind.

Sam glanced from the gun pointing at her to the sinister black SUVs sitting just beyond the property line. Kinsey's backup and clean up, if need be. Sam made the quick decision that she had little chance of firing her way out of here.

She knew it didn't matter.

"You've got some nerve…," Kinsey finally sputtered angrily.

Sam raised an eyebrow in a passable imitation of Teal'c. "I could say the same thing about you." She gestured at the laptop. "At least I've never ordered the murder of a two-star general."

Kinsey's sneer dissolved disturbingly into a calm smile. "You know, I must say I'm disappointed. You had a lot of potential and were, of course, quite invaluable to the program. It might have kept you alive if you had only been smart enough to know your place. But obviously Jack O'Neill was too much of a bad influence on you. It's a shame, really. We had plans for you."

Sam tamped down the instinctual anger at hearing Jack's name fall so casually from Kinsey's lips. The same mouth that ordered his death. Sam felt color flood her cheeks in anger.

Kinsey's eyes traveled over her face before he leered. "Maybe I'm not that surprised after all. Friendless, honorable Major Carter is looking for a little revenge, isn't she?"

"I'm not that honorable," she managed to growl, her fingers longing for the weapon pinching her flesh at the small of her back. The vision of Kinsey in a pool of his own blood swam beguilingly before her eyes. It was probably the first time she had ever wished for the gentle curl of a ribbon device around her wrist.

"Yes, well, larceny certainly isn't an Air Force endorsed hobby," Kinsey commented, "but that's hardly what I meant."

Sam knew what he meant. If their places were reversed, he would have just killed her in her sleep. Or at least paid someone else to do it. But Kinsey had no idea what it was costing Sam to sit calmly in her chair and listen to the perverse crap coming out of his mouth. Or how close he had come to that fate himself.

The click of Kinsey cocking his weapon brought Sam's attention back to the man in front of her.

Some form of surprise must have shown on her face, because he said, "You didn't really think that you would get out of here alive, did you?"

But just as the words left his mouth there was the sound of wailing sirens in the distance. Kinsey looked at Sam in complete shock.

Sam stood up. "That must be my ride," she said with a smirk.

"You called the police?" he asked incredulously.

"Just another little something I learned on my time in SG-1. Always have an exit strategy."

She calmly walked to the window to see three squad cars pull recklessly into the driveway just as the ubiquitous black SUVs disappeared down the street. That was the problem with Kinsey and his goons; they were far too concerned with appearances.

"So it seems that you have two choices here, Senator. Put the gun away and let them arrest me for breaking and entering; or shoot me and let them arrest you for murder. Personally, I'm happy either way."

Kinsey gaped unattractively until the sound of feet pounding on the stairs galvanized him into action. He stowed his gun and hissed, "Do you really think that police custody will keep you safe? We got to Maybourne easily enough."

Sam knew he was right, but she was only concerned with one thing at this moment, leaving Kinsey's house alive. That was all that mattered, and the police could easily help her with that.

She didn't have time for a retort because in the next instant the room was swarming with policemen. They grabbed her roughly by her shirt and slammed her face down on the closest table. A quick pat-down revealed her weapon, cell phone and portable hard drive.

Hawk-eyed Kinsey didn't waste his chance. "Officer, I believe that is mine," he said, pointing at the memory device. "She must have pilfered it from my desk."

"We need to keep it as evidence, Senator."

Kinsey moved a step closer to the officer, peering at his badge. "I'm afraid, Officer Turner, that it contains sensitive government records and I simply can't allow it to leave my sight. Classified and all that. I'm sure you understand." The whole speech was very well done and Sam could see the officers glancing at each other in indecision.

Kinsey stepped forward and pulled the device gently from the police man's fingers, making the decision for him. "Thank you, Officer, you are doing your country a great service," he simpered elegantly.

The officers shrugged and went back to handcuffing Sam. They knew it was potentially dangerous to go against an influential Senator and probably didn't think it was worth the trouble in the end. Kinsey pocketed Sam's evidence and threw her a triumphant smirk.

Sam didn't bother reacting. Let him have his hollow victories. His time was fast coming, because while Sam may be a lot of things, she was no fool.

Plans within plans.

Senator Kinsey was about to learn the price for messing with Major Samantha Carter.

Thirty-six hours later in her very own jail cell, Sam was admittedly feeling slightly less certain. Her prison had a little too much in common with Maybourne's for comfort. Not that any assassins had crept in through the impossibly small windows, but Sam still couldn't sleep particularly well.

As the hours crept by, the lack of activity and sleep was beginning to get to her. The last thing she needed at this juncture was unlimited time to evaluate every decision she had made and everyone that they had managed to take from her. All the 'what ifs' had the power to drive her crazy.

She finally managed to quiet her mind enough to doze off just as the dawn sky began to illuminate the stark room.

The mines were quiet. Teal'c sat nearby doing his best to kelnorim and conserve his energy for another day under the whips of the fake Jaffa. It had now been days since Daniel last came to see them, his eyes burning bright as if with a fever. Jack's anger at Daniel's seeming inability to understand that they were slowly dying in these mines had not faded as the days passed.

Sam knew she should rest as well, but as ridiculous as it sounded, she was almost too tired to sleep, like if she closed her eyes she might not open them again. She wasn't sure how she could possibly pry her body off the floor when dawn finally came. Let alone lift the crude tools with her blistered, aching hands. Death was beginning to seem…restful.

"We're going to get out of here, Carter," Jack whispered to her in the dark, almost as if he had read her mind.

Sam turned her head to where she knew he sat, letting her eyes slowly adjust to the gloom. "Yes, sir," she whispered back, but there was no conviction in her voice.

A slight scuffling sound reached her ears and then a warm body settled down next to hers. "I mean it, Carter," he said firmly even as he dropped gentle arm around her.

Sam leaned gratefully onto his shoulder. "I'm just so tired, sir."

"I know. Just rest."

Sam closed her eyes and began to relax, but suddenly the fabric under her cheek was damp. She leaned back from Jack to see a gaping wound in his shoulder where her head once lay.

Jack glanced calmly from the seeping wound to Sam. He reached one hand out to her face. "You can do this, Carter. I have faith in you."

Sam jerked awake to the sound of clanking keys and rolling bars. Her hand flew to her face, expecting the warm stickiness of blood even as her sterile surroundings began to chase the dream away.

Blinking blearily, two airmen came into focus in front of her. "We need you to come with us, Major."

Sam obediently held out her hands and let them chain her wrists and ankles. "Can you tell me where we're going?" she finally managed to ask in a voice thick with sleep.

The young man just shook his head. "Sorry, Ma'am."

Sam pushed her exhausted body up from the bunk and let them lead her out of her cell and down the hall to the rear of the police station. Her mind began to swirl with the possibilities. An elaborate assassination plot? Transfer to a military prison?

But Sam suppressed the questions and felt calm steal over her. It didn't matter. She would deal with it.

The rear door of the building was pushed open to reveal a military transport. Sam was heaved rather inelegantly into the back of the armored truck only to find herself face to face with Major Paul Davis. He looked her over sternly and gestured for the guards to seat her on a thin bench opposite him.

"Remove the cuffs, Airman," he ordered stiffly.

Once the door had closed behind them and the vehicle began to move, Davis handed her a stack of neatly folded clothes. A dress uniform.

"I guess you got my email, then," Sam said wryly as she carefully took the uniform from him.

For the first time, Davis smiled. "There's someone who'd like to speak with you, Major."

"Who?" Sam asked as her fingers dug into the soft fabric of the uniform.

"The President."