See Chapter One for full disclaimer and author's notes.

Chapter Seven

From the moment she pried open her eyes to the dank gloom of the Goa'uld holding cell, Sam knew she was in deep trouble. She had spent the first few moments of consciousness simply attempting to keep the room from spinning crazily. As the dizziness quelled Sam was able to make a cursory sweep of the room and was relieved to find herself alone. She could only hope that meant Teal'c and Daniel had made it through the 'gate and back to the SGC.

So. Here you are. Alone. Great job, Sam. She groused silently. Sighing, Sam rolled over onto her side and pushed herself to sit upright, taking inventory of her injuries. All in all she considered herself incredibly lucky; she had a bump on her head she suspected might be a slight concussion and a nasty staff wound on her right calf that while painful, if she could get it treated soon wouldn't cause her any long term difficulties. She stood slowly, allowing her head to slow its incessant throbbing before limping around the perimeter of the room. Roughly square, it offered little in the way of comforts aside from a hard pallet extending from one wall. She could find only one door and no windows, the only illumination came from two small fixtures hung on either side of the door that barely provided enough light to make out the pallet.

Sitting down on the makeshift bed, Sam pulled up the leg of her trousers to get a better look at her leg wound. The edges had been neatly cauterized, so the bleeding had been kept to a minimum, but the open burn was extremely painful and needed to be treated soon. Searching her pockets, Sam found she had little with which to give herself first aid so untucking her shirt and first tearing off one sleeve and then a length from the tail, she fashioned a crude bandage that she hoped would keep the worst of the dirt and debris out of the wound. Infection would set in eventually, she knew, and she had to be on her way out of here before that happened. Otherwise it was unlikely she'd have the strength to escape.

As Sam completed her first aid the door burst inward, a Jaffa bearing Ba'al's mark on his forehead stood in the hallway, his staff weapon clasped in his hands.

"Come."

Sam stood rooted in place, her instincts screaming to fight back, attempt escape. But the more rational side of her mind insisted she bide her time; taking on a Jaffa unarmed and single handed was hardly a wise tactical move. Right now it was all about survival, taking huge risks wouldn't improve her odds of making it out alive.

"Move, Tau'ri!"

Sam did as she was instructed, moving out into the hallway. The Jaffa grabbed at her arm and roughly propelled her down corridor.

"Where are we going?"

"Silence!" The Jaffa shouted, cuffing the side of her head to emphasize his point. Sam whirled to face him, her face set in anger, but she held her tongue. She stared defiantly into the Jaffa's eyes, never blinking or backing down. The Jaffa's gaze skittered away from her face and Sam knew she had won a small but significant victory. But her triumph was short-lived as he grabbed her arm once again and sent her careening down the hallway.

They made several turns, the corridors twisting and turning back on itself several times. As they approached a large entryway, Sam could hear low voices coming from inside but couldn't make out what they were saying. The Jaffa escorting her guided Sam into the room and shoved her toward a low chair at its center.

There were two Jaffa standing near the center of the room who moved to flank her on each side. Sam had read reports about Jaffa interrogation techniques that could break the strongest and best trained of any SGC field personnel. She had been through the survival training at several points during her Air Force career, beginning with her first summer at the Academy. She learned lessons during that training that had stuck with her throughout the subsequent years. Those lessons would now be put to the test.

Her escort spoke first. "Sit, Tau'ri."

Sam turned toward him, her chin raised to look at him directly, her gaze never wavering. Every Air Force Academy cadet was taught the Code of Conduct for captured personnel; that training had been drilled into her over and over that first year and then again during her survival training while in flight school. Almost automatically, the articles of the Code of Conduct flashed through her mind, she knew her duty and what was expected of her as a prisoner. If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available.

"Sit!" The Jaffa bellowed, lashing out with his staff weapon to sweep her feet from under her, collapsing her onto the hard chair. Reigning in her temper, Sam pulled herself upright then pushed herself back to her feet. I am an American, fighting in the forces which guard my country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.

"You will sit!" The Jaffa to her right swept up his staff weapon into both hands, swinging it in a short arc he brought it around to connect solidly with her midsection, driving the breath from her lungs and folding her legs beneath her, landing her unceremoniously onto the chair again.

Sam sat, doubled over, gasping for air. One lesson the survival instructors had pounded into them over and over again, always know when to resist and when to give in, finding that balance could determine if you lived or died.

"That's better, Tau'ri. Now, you will answer some questions for us." The Jaffa to her left began speaking, by his voice and manner Sam decided he was most likely the one in charge of her interrogation.

Sam raised her head, again looking at her questioner directly, never once showing her fear no matter how deep it ran.

"You have spirit, Tau'ri. You would have made an excellent Jaffa had you been born on Chulak. How many were with you? How many more are still hiding among the shadows on this planet?"

When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, serial number, and date of birth. I will evade answering further questions to the best of my ability. "Carter, Samantha. Lieutenant Colonel. 43-412-6775-320. 12-29-68." She never saw the blow that knocked her from the seat and onto the floor. Shaking her head to clear the stars that danced in her vision, Sam drew in a deep breath then pulled herself up and retook her seated position in the chair. Her eyes leveled with her questioner, she silently vowed not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her break.

"I will ask you again. How many were with you? What did you see inside this facility? What is the code that will allow us to penetrate your defensive iris?"

I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to their cause. "Carter, Samantha. Lieutenant Colonel. 43-412…" Sam again found herself staring up at her captors from the floor, the blow this time catching her just under her ear, causing her head to ring painfully. And again, she pulled herself upright, reclaiming her chair, sitting up straight, her hands folded in her lap.

"Make no mistake, Tau'ri, I will kill you if you do not answer. How many were with you? What are the codes to your defensive systems?"

"Carter, Samantha. Lieutenant Colonel. 43-412-6775-320. 12-29-68." Sam tensed for the blow she expected to come and was surprised when the Jaffa held their ground. The questioning went on like that for several more minutes, all revolving around the same things. How many had been with her? What had she seen? What was her GDO code? Each time she gave them the same answers, name, rank serial number and date of birth. Each time tensing, waiting for the blow; and surprised when it didn't come. What was their game? She expected to be physically tortured for the information she had. She hadn't expected that the torture would also include withholding that abuse at times. Waiting, tensed for the blows that never came was almost as bad as receiving them.

The interrogation went on for some time, how long Sam couldn't be sure. For the duration of that time she refused to give them any information; At times the punishment for her refusal to give the Jaffa what they wanted was physical, other times she was left alone. She was never sure which response she would receive.

"You will give us what we desire, Tau'ri. It is only a matter of time. Take her back to the cell. Perhaps if given some time to consider your situation, you will realize you have no other options."

Two of the Jaffa each took one of her arms and drug her roughly to her feet, half walking and half dragging her down the corridors and back to her cell. Sam watched closely as the Jaffa reached out to trigger the door's mechanism to open the cell. It was technology she had seen before and if given enough time she thought maybe she could hot wire it. Once the door had slid fully open, the Jaffa released her arms and brought the flat end of his staff weapon down over her shoulders, sending her sprawling into the room. Sam blinked away the tears the blow had brought to her eyes, but wasted no time pulling herself back upright and regained her feet. Never let them see weakness. They'll exploit it just as sure as they'll exploit any other opportunities you give them. Don't give them that to work with.

The Jaffa standing at the entrance to her cell snorted in disgust, then activated the door and they both turned and marched down the hallway. Sam listened until she could no longer hear their footfalls before she allowed herself to sink gratefully down onto the cold, hard pallet.

Sighing, she took inventory of herself. All in all, she was relatively pleased that she had come through her first interrogation session with Ba'al's Jaffa in rather good shape. They had stuck to blows that while painful, hadn't done any lasting damage. She was more than slightly surprised that they hadn't taken advantage of her pre-existing wounds. It wasn't like the Jaffa to fail to take advantage of an opportunity like that; it didn't bode well for future sessions with her captors.

As she sat attempting to regain some of her strength, Sam realized that she hadn't eaten or had anything to drink for several hours now. She would need something soon if she were to hold out for long under the Jaffa questioning, but she didn't hold out much hope that the Jaffa would be forthcoming with either food or water. That realization spurred Sam to climb wearily to her feet and moved to inspect the wall opposite the keypad that activated her door. If she could just rig the door to open, even if it was just a little, she could hopefully force the door open far enough to allow her to escape.

Sam thought back to her survival training from the Academy, somewhat surprised at how much she still remembered from those days of drilling the Articles of the Code of Conduct as a Doolie during her first year there. If I am captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy. Shaking her head slightly at the bit of nostalgic reminiscing, Sam set to work on the wall.

She spent several long minutes inspecting the wall and was unsuccessful in finding any easy access to the back side of the keypad, not that she expected the Goa'uld to be that forthcoming. Deciding that she wasn't going to gain anything by continuing to search for access that most likely didn't exist, Sam set about searching for anything she could use to pry at the wall to fashion her own access. Taking stock of her room, she found nothing that would be useful so Sam turned her attention to her pockets. The Jaffa had been most thorough during her capture, removing everything she had been carrying with her. All she had was her clothing and boots, thankfully that still included her belt.

Well, you didn't spend all those hours watching MacGyver for nothing. Figure it out, girl. Get yourself outta here. This won't be the first time you've pried open a control panel with your belt buckle.

Sam sighed softly, remembering that mission that had nearly cost them Teal'c, if not in body then in mind. Thankfully that time she'd had her Dad, Daniel and Jack with her. Now she had only herself to rely upon. Pulling her belt free of its loops, Sam went to work on the small seam she could feel between the wall plates that, as near as she could tell, should be at the opposite side of the control panel that opened the cell. Working persistently, Sam slowly opened the seam, widening it until she could fit the entire edge of her buckle into it and pry upwards giving herself just enough room to fit her fingers beneath the panel and pull. It came free inch by inch until finally she felt something give way and the panel swung open, hinged on points hidden within the wall.

Peering inside, the dim light didn't allow her to see too far into the wall, but Sam could make out a small latching mechanism that had given way as she had pried on it. Fingering the latch, she hoped it would hold the panel closed well enough that her captors wouldn't notice her tampering. Pulling the panel open fully, Sam tried to focus on what was behind it. The fact that the panel had a latch and was hinged gave her hope that it was some sort of hidden maintenance access panel that would allow her to override the mechanism for the door.

Gingerly feeling inside, Sam could identify the back sides of the control crystals by touch. After failing to hotwire the door during that fateful mission that took them up against Apophis and the Replicators, Sam had set about learning everything she could about the doors and how they worked, pulling on the Tok'ra specs for Goa'uld ships of all types. She only hoped that their land bases used the same or similar technology.

Feeling her way through the control panel, Sam carefully pried and manipulated the crystals within her grasp, closing her eyes in concentration as she pictured the schematics in her mind's eye and worked from that memory. Slowly she pulled loose the key crystal, the master control that regulated the power flow through the latching mechanism. She then reinserted the crystal into an open maintenance slot, essentially overriding the power flow and enabling the door's mechanism.

Sam worked steadily for an hour before her vision began to blur and the muscles in her arms began to cramp painfully. Sam realized she had been awake and on her feet for well over 24 hours and reluctantly acknowledged that she needed to get some sleep and soon, since she had no way of knowing how long the Jaffa would leave her in her cell before retrieving her for another round of interrogation. Pulling her hands out of the wall she inspected her work. What she had done so far wouldn't affect the mechanism's functioning and she hoped wouldn't be visible to them if they entered her cell. Pushing the access panel closed firmly until it was flush against the wall Sam pulled her hands away and was pleased when it appeared to hold in place.

Sam dusted her hands off on her trousers and massaged her aching arms and shoulders as she walked across the bare metal floor to sink gratefully down on the small pallet. Pulling off her jacket and draping it over her arms and shoulders Sam pillowed her head on her arm and sank into a restless sleep.

TBC….