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

Chapter Eight

The nervous energy that he often felt before a mission seemed to multiply ten fold until the tingling crawling up his spine sent Jack out of his office to pace in front of the briefing room windows. It had been nearly 12 hours since Daniel and Teal'c had returned through the 'gate; 12 hours since he had been given the terrifying news that Sam was now in the hands of Ba'al and his Jaffa. His first instinct had been to grab a vest, a P-90 and dive back through the 'gate after her, but the tactician in him knew that was far from the ideal course of action. Jack's heart, however, cried out in frustration and grief.

He had thought that the quiet and solitude of his office would allow him to concentrate on the task at hand, mainly to pull Sam out of that god forsaken hell hole she was in, but it hadn't quite worked out that way. Rather than calming him, his mind seemed to race at ever increasing speeds, conjuring for him images of Sam at Ba'al's mercy, crying out to him, begging him to help her, to rescue her. Digging his palms into his eyes, Jack's effort to drive the images from his mind met with little success and so he reviewed their battle plans again, looking for any weaknesses he hadn't caught before.

Just two hours earlier he had called a briefing of the remaining members of SG-1 along with Colonel Reynolds and the members of SG-3. Long relied upon for their search and rescue operations, the SG-3 Marines had earned a well deserved reputation amongst the other SG teams that no one would ever be left behind in enemy hands. So far, they had yet to fail in that mission, even if they had to bring back only the bodies of those who had been lost.

In the briefing Teal'c had described the layout of Ba'al's temple and the defenses they had encountered outside while Daniel had outlined the inside of the structure and where he and Sam had first encountered the Jaffa.

"Well, General, the way I see it we have two options," Reynolds began. "First we could put together a force of at least four SG teams supported with RPG's, M-60's, and enough C-4 to blow a hole in the side of that temple wide enough to fit an Abrams through."

"What're the chances Sam would get blown up right along with the Jaffa?" Daniel interrupted hotly.

"Since we don't know her precise location, those odds would be higher than I'm comfortable with, Doctor Jackson. Which is why I think option two is a more viable plan. We go in, just SG-1 and SG-3. Surgical strike team small enough to get inside the temple without being detected. We then use Doctor Jackson's knowledge of Goa'uld to pin point Colonel Carter's location, extract her, make it back to the 'gate before we're discovered."

Jack looked up from his notes. "And exactly what're the chances of us getting in and out without detection?"

"Slim, General. But the odds of getting Colonel Carter out alive are much better with option two."

Jack nodded solemnly, having already reached that conclusion himself, but it was always prudent to listen to other options. "Okay, we go in with a small team, SG-3, Daniel and Teal'c. If it all goes to hell and back and you're discovered, leave one man at the 'gate and to report back. If we need to, we'll mobilize a larger SG team force to come pull all your asses out of there."

Daniel's eyebrows raised in surprise, but he said nothing. He had expected Jack to accompany them on this mission and to hear his name conspicuously missing from the mission roster was surprising to say the least. He could only assume that Jack had his reasons for staying behind, he only hoped they were the right ones.

General O'Neill surveyed the faces of the men surrounding the table. He knew they would all go anywhere he ordered them, but this mission seemed to go above and beyond their normal duties and he intended to give them all an option to get out, if they wanted it. "This isn't going to be your usual search and rescue, gentlemen. As such, I'm not going to order any of you to be a part of this team. This will be an all volunteer operation, so anyone who wants out, speak up now."

In the silence that ensued, only the breathing of those in the room could be heard before Colonel Reynolds drew a breath to speak. "Sir, I believe I speak for all here when I say that I'll be damned if I'm going to back out of this one. Colonel Carter has saved our collective asses more than once and it's about time we returned the favor. Sir."

Jack nodded then pressed his hands flat on the table and pushed himself to his feet, the others quickly following suit.

"Get some sleep. I know Daniel and Teal'c have been at it for over 20 hours now and SG-3 just got back from a mission this morning. The last thing we need is you slowing down or screwing up because of fatigue. 6 hours sleep minimum, be back here ready to ship out at 0430. Dismissed."

Jack now grudgingly admitted he needed to take his own advice and try to get some sleep since he was damn sure he wouldn't sleep much at all once the mission was underway. Sighing deeply and shoving his hands deep into his pockets he headed toward his quarters just down the corridor from the control room. Opening the door he clicked on the small light next to his bed and sank down onto it wearily, bending down to unlace his boots. He had gotten one boot off when he heard a soft knock on his door. Wincing and scrubbing a hand over his face and up through his hair he stood and crossed the room to answer it.

Pulling the door open he was startled to see Colonel Reynolds standing in the corridor looking slightly uncomfortable. "Reynolds? Shouldn't you be getting some sleep right now, Colonel?"

"Yes, sir. But I needed to speak with you. Would you mind if I came in?"

Surprised but also intrigued, Jack gestured the Marine in waving him toward a chair at the corner of the room. "What can I do for you?"

The Colonel bypassed the offered chair, preferring to stand with his hands clasped behind his back. He shifted his feet slightly, an indication of just how nervous the usually spit and polish Marine was at the moment. Jack chose to sit on the edge of his bunk, eyeing his officer curiously. In the end, Reynolds decided to simply spit out what was on his mind, figuring at worst the General would simply chew him out and throw him out of his quarters.

"Sir, may I ask why you didn't assign yourself to this mission?"

Jack was stunned at the question. Certainly he wanted with all his heart and soul to lead this mission, but at the same time he knew that he had a duty to fulfill at the SGC and Generals rarely led rescue missions into enemy territory. Then there was the problem of favoritism. How could he, in good conscience, go on this mission when he didn't head up every other rescue mission for missing SGC team members? He had spent so many years living by the regulations that the idea of showing any sort of favoritism for Sam because of his personal feelings for her had rankled him. "Colonel, I…um…"

"General, we all know your skills in the field and it seems to me that with your intimate knowledge of our enemy in this case that your presence would be key to our success."

"Colonel, I think you know there's more to it than that."

"Yes, sir, I do. But if I might speak freely sir?"

"By all means."

"That's bullshit. Sir."

Jacks eyebrows raised and he smirked slightly. "Ya think so, Colonel?"

"Yes, sir, I do. Your relationship with Colonel Carter is of course your own business, sir. But I can't think of anyone more motivated than you to complete this mission and get everyone home alive and well." Reynolds took a step closer, relaxing his shoulders and allowing his arms to drop to his sides. "Sir, no one will think any less of you for wanting to lead this mission yourself. No one."

Jack sighed softly before rising to his feet. "I appreciate your input, John. Really. Thank you."

"Yes, sir. Good night, General."

As the door closed quietly behind him, Reynolds paused in the hallway, knowing that his message had been received, loud and clear.

SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1-SG1

Sam felt as though she had barely closed her eyes when she felt herself being pulled roughly to her feet and propelled out into the corridor. Stumbling slightly as her sleep muddied brain attempted to catch up with her feet, Sam limped along the hall, prodded from behind by two impatient Jaffa.

Entering the room she had been held in the day prior, Sam recognized her interrogators and resigned herself to another painful and difficult session with them. Motioning to the chair placed in the middle of the room, Sam was herded toward it much less gently than she had been before. She wasn't given the option to stand this time, but was struck at the knees from behind, dumping her on her stomach on top of the chair bottom.

"Sit, Tau'ri!"

Clamping down her jaw on the wave of pain and nausea that threatened to overwhelm her, Sam shakily pushed herself upright to stand with her feet planted far enough apart to give her the balance she needed should they try that maneuver again. She then turned toward her jailers and keeping her gaze firmly on theirs, stood for a moment toe to toe with them. The act of defiance was not unrewarded as the Jaffa put his staff weapon to good use and brought the flat end hard against her wounded calf. Sam was only partially successful at muffling her cry of pain as she was dumped again into the chair.

Okay, so, no more Mister Nice Jaffa.

"You were less than accommodating before. We will not be as patient today, Tau'ri."

"Yeah, I didn't figure you would be," Sam retorted sarcastically. The Jaffa to her left pulled back his hand and sent it crashing into her mouth, drawing blood. Sam spat the blood pooling in her mouth at his feet and pulled herself upright again, sitting ramrod straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her smoldering gaze never once leaving her interrogator's face.

"Insolence such as that will not be tolerated, Tau'ri. You would do well to remember that. Now, how many others were with you? Where are they now?"

"Carter, Samantha. Lieutenant Colo…" Sam had been tensed, ready for the blow, but the ferocity of the attack took her by surprise and dumped her unceremoniously on the deck at the Jaffa's feet. Wiping the blood from her already bruised mouth, Sam picked herself up as slowly as she could, attempting to give herself as much time as possible before they set to work on her again. Sitting up straight once again, she met the eyes of her interrogators, refusing to allow them the satisfaction of seeing her break. Carters don't cry Sam. Carters don't give up. Carters do their duty, always.

"Where are your companions? You accomplish nothing by refusing to answer, Tau'ri. We will find them, eventually. This only serves to prolong your agony."

Sam met the Jaffa's gaze, pursing her lips into a thin hard line.

"Where are they? What are your numbers?" The Jaffa's demeanor had become more and more impatient as the questions were fired from his mouth, his face contorting in rage at her silence. As he continued to thunder at her, Sam held her ground, choosing to answer with her silence until finally his temper snapped.

"My Lord requires your answers, Tau'ri! I will not fail to acquire them from you!" Raising his hand, Sam turned her head away from the expected blow only to have her head forced back toward him by the Jaffa at her side.

Sam wasn't sure later how long he had railed on her weakening body, knowing that she was likely seriously injured and realizing her miscalculation of her adversary much too late. But if he beat her to death there in that dank room at least she would be sure she hadn't betrayed her country or her oath. She was certain that at the end they had been forced to hold her upright while he took out his frustrations on her already battered body until finally his temper had cooled and he had ordered them to return her to the small dark cell.

Wheezing with pain that shot through her with every breath, Sam wasn't sure just how much damage had been done. She could feel the swelling around her eyes and mouth, the bruised flesh surely turning spectacular shades already. Her calf throbbed painfully, the heat radiating from the wound indicating that the infection she had feared was now a reality.

She lay on the cool floor, allowing the cold to sooth some of the worst of the aches before she marshaled her strength and pushed herself up to sit against the wall. Her body felt as though she had just gone 10 rounds with Teal'c, and most certainly had lost. Rolling over onto her hands and knees, Sam used the wall to pull herself up to her feet, the abused muscles of her stomach groaning in protest. If there was something seriously busted up inside her, she wouldn't have time to worry about another session with her captors. She had to get the door open and get out of there. Now.

Pulling open the panel she had worked on the day before, Sam set her mind to the task, tuning out any physical pain she was experiencing and focusing solely on the job at hand. Survival, that's the name of the game. If you believe you'll survive, you'll find a way. Never stop believing. Pulling and tugging at the crystals by touch alone after nearly an hour of painstaking work Sam finally slid the final crystal home and heard the distinctive snick of the latching mechanism releasing and the hiss of the door as it slid open.

Holding her breath and tensing for the surge of Jaffa guards she was sure was headed into her cell at any moment, Sam was shocked when it didn't materialize and peered out into the corridor only to find it empty. Where the hell did everyone go? Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Sam closed her eyes in relief and edged out of the door.

Ok Carter, you're out. Now what? She looked both ways before leaning against the doorway briefly as a wave of dizziness threatened to swamp her. Time was of the essence and Sam knew her time was short, and growing shorter every moment. She started off toward the right, praying that she was headed in the direction of an exit, any exit. All she knew was that when they came for her they always headed down the left corridor, and that way only held pain and torture.

Moving as quickly as her injured leg would allow, Sam made her way past several cross corridors. Had she been aboard a Mothership or Tel'tak the layout would have followed a familiar pattern she had committed to memory years earlier. She could only hope that the seemingly familiar landmarks inside the temple followed a similar floor plan.

Sam had been moving for nearly 5 minutes when the sound of booted feet reached her ears. Flattening herself against the wall she waited, listening intently. The footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, but seemed to be drawing nearer to her position. Seeking refuge of any kind, Sam spotted a nearby doorway and quickly keyed the sequence of symbols that would allow her entry.

As the door hissed open, Sam slipped inside and quickly keyed it closed again, praying that she wouldn't run into something worse inside. The room was dimly lit and seemed to be some sort of storage facility. Sam took a moment to survey her surroundings to be sure she was alone before turning her attention to the nearing sounds of Jaffa armored feet. As they drew nearer and seemed to slow she sucked in a nervous breath, holding it as the sounds slowed but did not stop, finally receding down the corridor. Breathing an intense sigh of relief, Sam was about to open the door again when a familiar shape caught her eye and she turned in surprise.

There, atop a rack holding what appeared to be spare Jaffa armor lay her SGC vest and P-90. What is it they say, better lucky than good? Damned if they aren't right. Snagging the vest and slipping into it, Sam checked the pockets for her survival gear and spare magazines for her weapon. The Jaffa rarely allowed any usable material to slip through their fingers and this time had kept most of her gear together and intact. A mistake she was surprised they had made.

Picking up her weapon, Sam cleared the chamber and checked the clip and finding it still half full slapped it back home, locking and loading it. Searching for her radio, she was disappointed to find it missing, but would take what she could get; in this case a weapon that may well get her out of the temple and back to the 'gate.

Suddenly feeling much better about her chances of getting off this rock alive, Sam silently sent out a thanks to whoever was looking out for her and paused to take a couple of deep, steadying breaths to calm her shaking limbs before heading back out into the corridor. Resuming her original path, Sam worked her way methodically down the hallway, knowing that at any moment another Jaffa patrol could be around the next turn and knowing that she would have to use deadly force to get past them or risk being sent back into the arms of her torturers. That was something she vowed would not happen again; should it come down to it, she would take as many of them with her as she could, but Sam knew she wouldn't allow herself to be take alive again.

Sam crossed over another cross corridor that this time was labeled with one of the few symbols she recognized, "air lock". Praying that the symbol on a land based facility would also mean "exit", Sam detoured in its direction, finding herself in a hallway that looked vaguely familiar from her trip into the structure with Daniel. About halfway down the corridor Sam found a doorway similarly labeled with the characters for an air lock. Taking a moment to settle herself, Sam repositioned her weapon so that she could aim it out the doorway, just in case the Jaffa had decided to place guards outside the structure after SG-1 had been able to gain entrance through it.

Pressing the symbols in sequence, Sam paused over the last key and taking in one last deep breath punched it. As the door slid open, Sam cautiously poked her head out into the still morning air. The sun was just rising above the tree line, casting enough light over the forest to allow her to make out the surroundings. Crouching low, Sam eased past the doorframe and out of the temple, her eyes and ears trained for any signs that she had been detected. When she neither saw nor heard anything, Sam moved the rest of the way out the door and after a cautious breath, made for the trees and the safety that could be found in their covering depths.

Breathing heavily from even the small amount of exertion, Sam paused several feet into the tree line to glance back over her shoulder. She as yet couldn't see any sort of pursuit, but knew that one would not be far behind. Marshalling her strength, Sam pushed off from the tree she had leaned against and moved further into the forest, praying she could reach the 'gate before the Jaffa reached her.

TBC….