STARGATE SG-1: House Arrest
Summary: Sequel to "Operation Checkmate". It's Jack's turn to be in over his head…
Season: 8
Disclaimer: I don't own the stuff, yadda yadda.
Author's Note: So on with Chapter 2. Thanx for the feedback to chapter 1. Glad y'all liked it! Please R&R as always. Thanx. Enjoy!
WARNING: Strong Language!
House Arrest: Chapter 2 – Jonah Complex
Jack sat anxiously in his seat on the aeroplane. This was never going to end well. Or at least not for him, anyway. But it was what he had to do. In his mind there were no two ways about it. It was the only way to keep Sam safe. Well, not entirely true. This was probably going to hurt her terribly. But it was the only way Jack could see the whole mess being resolved. He knew Sam would understand.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we will shortly be beginning our descent into Washington where the weather is clear…" The captain's words began to filter out in Jack's mind as his heart rate began to quicken.
'Don't screw this up Jack,' he thought nervously. But he knew Simon would have already guessed what was going on. If Sam was unharmed by the time he got back, it would be a miracle.
Barrett nearly jumped out of his skin on seeing Jack sat in the chair in front of his desk. He'd only gone out to fetch a cup of coffee.
"General," he said in surprise. "What can I do for you?"
Jack looked nervous, something Barrett had never seen in him before.
"We've got a little problem," Jack informed him, aware of the blatant understatement.
"We do?" Barrett answered, taking a sip of his coffee.
"Simon's back."
Barrett choked and spluttered hot brown liquid all down his white shirt.
"That's impossible," he said staring at the General. "I shot him myself. He went down like a lead weight."
Jack shook his head and explained about the bullet proof vest Simon had been wearing. He told him about the 'new assignment' he had to do and about the danger he was placing Sam in by just being there. Barrett sat and listened intently. His face showing more and more despair as the tale continued.
"And now he wants me to go after General Frakes," Jack concluded.
Barrett sat back in his chair. It was a lot to take in at once; not least the fact that Jack had known about Simon before any of them.
"So what do we do?" he said at last. "He's bound to find out that you came here and didn't go to Frakes."
Jack nodded. "I think he would have guessed I'd do it right from the beginning. He's not stupid."
"So that puts Colonel Carter in danger," Barrett pointed out.
Jack winced. It wasn't something he wanted to dwell on. But Barrett was right.
"That's why we have to act quickly," Jack said, fixing Barrett with a determined look. "He won't kill her," he continued. "She's the only lee-way he has over me and so he won't jack it in so quickly. He needs her alive if he wants me to go through with this." And if he actually wanted to keep his own pulse going, Jack thought, but didn't add out loud.
"What exactly are you suggesting?" Barrett queried.
Sam switched the ignition to her car off. Carefully, so not to over work her chest, she opened the door and stepped out, dragging the three bags of grocery shopping with her as she went. It took a little more effort than her battered lungs wanted to use and so she was forced to lean on the top of her car to catch her elusive breath before proceeding into her house.
It had been two weeks since Simon had been taken down and the wounds he had left behind were still painfully letting her know they were there. In another couple of weeks, she was sure they would be nothing but scars, but for now they were still very much with her. As were the nightmares.
Every time she closed her eyes, her mind pulled out all the stops to remind her of what she had done to General Gibson. The look on his face was burned into the back of her mind, leaving behind marks that would last longer than of the physical scars Simon had given her. She still couldn't believe that she'd once called that man her friend. She trusted him! For years he was her co-pilot the one person she knew she could depend on to keep her safe. And now this.
Sam carefully balanced her grocery as she turned the key in her front door. Once inside, she headed straight for the kitchen to unpack her load.
On her way past the answering machine, she mindlessly hit the 'play' button and listened carefully to the two messages there.
The first was from one of the nurses at the hospital, reminding her that she had a follow up appointment the next day to make sure her chest wound hadn't become infected.
The second caught her attention. Mainly because for the first ten seconds or so of it, there was nothing. Just muffled static.
Sam stopped what she was doing and listened hard, in case it was just a bad line and actually someone was trying to talk to her. As she listened, she heard something coming through the static. A song.
Off we go into the wild blue yonder
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet out thunder
At 'em boys give her the gun!
It was an old Air Force song that she hadn't heard in years. This piqued her curiosity. But before long, the song faded back into static and Sam was left listening hard once again.
Then she heard something else. Not songs. Not even voices. Just a series of clicks and stops. There was a pattern to them. It didn't take long for her to realise it was Morse code.
Taking a pen and paper, she listened to the code and wrote it down, working it out as she went.
/… B
. / A
/. N
. G
"Bang?" she muttered to herself.
No sooner had she uttered the word, the machine suddenly erupted, spouting out flames and shattered pieces of the machine that had once sat there.
Sam stood and watched the burning wreck, completely mesmerised by the dancing fire, licking its way towards her ceiling.
'It couldn't be,' she thought. But it had his 'style' stamped all over it.
'But he's dead!' she rationalised. 'There's no way!'
As she stood in shock, looking at the mess, a large, strong hand wrapped tightly round her stomach. Another clamped hard over her mouth completely cutting off her ability to scream.
"Surprise," a voice said in her ear. She shuddered as she felt the hot breath slide down her neck.
It was him.
"That's insane!" Barrett shouted, cutting Jack short in his planning.
"It's the best we've got. The more people we get in on this the better, and you know it," Jack retaliated.
"Yeah, but why not just go to the police. That's what they're there for!"
"Are you kidding me! Simon'd run rings round them. They don't have the training or the intell to take this lunatic down. We either do this with our own people or we do nothing and Carter dies. That's just not acceptable to me."
Jack's jaw line was so firmly set that if he'd gritted his teeth harder, they would have shattered. He was on the verge of begging Barrett for support and knew that given the situation, he would have gladly resorted to it.
"What about Frakes? We just gonna leave him open out there? What if Simon decides to actually do his own work for once?"
Jack thought for a moment. The man had a point. He couldn't be left on his own like this. He needed to be hidden again.
"You go to him," he said plainly.
"Me?"
"He's under NID protection, right? So go tell him he's gotta move again. In the mean time I'll get back and start pulling as many strings as I can from my end. I expect you to do the same once you've got Frakes."
With that, Jack stood up to leave. He'd already been there too long. He didn't know what sort of time frame Sam had here and he was damned if he was going to just leave her there while Barrett ummed and ahhed about getting his but in gear!
"Wait!" Barrett called him back. "Where am I gonna hide Frakes again?"
Jack simply shrugged.
"You'll think of something."
He didn't hang around any longer to hear anymore of Barrett's worries at the plan. He had enough worries going on as it was.
Sam tried to move in the iron-grip hold that Simon had over her. Every time she even twitched, her chest burned with pain from the way it was being treated. It was all she could do to keep from passing out entirely.
"Well now," Simon said maliciously. "This was a twist you weren't expecting, isn't it?"
Sam could only whimper through the pain and the gloved hand over her face.
"What was that?" he asked, knowing full well that she hadn't had a chance to say anything at all.
At her pitiful response to him, Simon laughed. The sound vibrated through Sam like fear itself. He roughly pushed his knees against the back of her own, causing her to lurch forward. He used this momentum to keep her moving through the kitchen and into the living room.
The sight that greeted her there caught her completely off guard. Instead of her tidy, comfortable room there were computers, TV screens and cables running in every direction. You could hardly move in there without tripping over some piece of equipment. But the most alarming sight of all was the mass of tools set out on her coffee table, each looking like they could inflict great amounts of pain on a person (namely Sam).
Simon roughly manoeuvred Sam into the dining room chair he had situated right in front of the main TV screen in the room. She sat down, clutching her ribs, checking for any signs that the stitches might have pulled. She certainly felt like a good few had. But she wasn't allowed this comfort for long as Simon quickly took hold of her arms and duct-taped them to the sides of the chair.
"Got anymore clichés you wanna play out here?" she commented, hate rising through her veins as quickly as pain.
This earned her a swift back hand across her cheek. Suddenly, Simon wasn't so talkative. He seemed more interested in keeping her exactly where he needed her.
"You think no-one's gonna notice if I –" The TV clicking on cut her off in her tracks.
On the screen was an image of Jack's living room. Jack was sat on his couch watching his own TV while talking to someone on the phone. At a second glance, Sam recognised her own living room on his screen. She was there, reading one of her Physics commentaries. The images were clearly a few days old.
Once Simon was sure he had he full attention with the TV, he turned the volume up.
'Simple conundrum, Jack. Her or Frakes,' the voice on the phone said to Jack.
'If it were simple, it wouldn't be a conundrum, would it?' Jack said through gritted teeth.
Simon's tormenting laugh echoed through the TV set, making Sam's skin crawl.
'Going once…' Simon announced, controlling his glee. 'Going twice…'
Sam screwed her eyes shut. She didn't want to hear Jack's response.
'Alright,' he said, defeated. 'What do I do?'
Sam's heart sank on hearing him.
'You know how Sam got Gibson?' Simon asked slyly.
'Took him out from a first floor window with a Sound Suppressed Revolver Riffle,' he said mechanically.
'Yeah. Quite a nice shot as well. But that's not what I want you to do. That sort of thing's got me written all over it.'
'Trying to lay low, are we?' Jack said lazily.
'Something like that,' Simon replied. 'What we need for Frakes is something a little more… subtle.'
'Arsenic in the brandy type of thing?'
'No…more of a strangling him with razor wire type of thing.'
'That's subtle?' Jack said eventually.
Simon laughed. 'Yeah, I'll admit, it's a little extreme.'
With that, the TV was quickly switched off and Simon swung another chair round in front of Sam and sat down looking rather smug with himself.
"So," he said. "That just about brings you up to speed, ready for us to go into part two and the big finale."
Sam held her mouth tightly shut. She wasn't going to give him any sort of satisfaction in saying anything.
"Wanna hear it?" he paused briefly for a response from her he knew he wouldn't get. "OK, so Jacky boy gets sent off to the far away land of San Francisco to flush Frakes and save the day for our heroine Sam. But, being the awkward bastard that he is, Jack develops a little bit of a Jonah Complex and shoots off in the opposite direction."
Sam almost smiled on hearing of Jack's defiance. Despite the ramifications the action held for her.
"So, where does that leave us?" Simon continued. "Well, in running off to Barrett like that, he's quite effectively thrown you to the fishes instead of himself. Isn't that noble of him?"
"You won't get anything from me!" Sam spat venomously.
Simon smiled slyly. "I don't want anything from you, my love. Except maybe a few kicks."
From behind his back, Simon produced a device that at first looked like a simple remote control for a VCR. Then he pressed one of the buttons on it…
A bright flash of blue energy surged between two terminals at the top of it, hissing terribly at Sam. She could almost feel the electric heat coming of it from where she was sat.
Still grinning like a terrifying Bob Cat, Simon pressed the device against Sam's right knee cap and activated it again.
Author's Note: See you in chapter 3! Please R&R this one in the meantime. Thanx!
P.S: Just thought I should put a little health warning on here! Please don't try any of what is written here at home! Chaos-Carter already has… take it from her, they work!
BTW, C-C, how's the leg!