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Pisces1 – 'woken' is a valid word; it's the past tense of 'awaken'. At least it is in the English dictionary, so it's not just a local thing.
Title: Unity.
Author: LetitiaRichards.
Previously:
General Hammond stood and hurried back to his office; he had a phone call to make. In fact, several.
Chapter 35
"Hi kids! Miss me?"
The three members of SG-1, who were seated round a table in the commissary drinking coffee or in Teal'c's case a soda, all looked up at the intrusion to see Jack standing there, balancing on a pair of crutches, his face alight with glee, yet lined with pain.
"Jack!" Daniel cried, overjoyed to see his friend back on his feet, though he could see what the effort was costing him. "Sit down before you fall down." He jumped up and made Jack take his seat, giving him a hand to ease down onto the chair and placing the crutches against the wall behind him.
Jack sighed happily; glad to be off his feet again. He knew it was going to take time to get used to walking on them again, but still, it was damn painful none the less. Those bastards in Iraq had done quite a number on his soles and heels, and it would be a while yet until he could walk properly again. Fraiser had only allowed him to walk to the commissary to get the feel of being independent again, - and because he'd bullied her into it - otherwise he was only to use the crutches to get around the house with; any other journeys would have to be by wheelchair still. He was panting slightly, sweating, shaking badly and feeling washed out but he was pleased he'd made it this far, but it was a close run thing and once or twice he'd nearly ended up on his butt or his nose. The walk had seemed endless at the time. He would have to send Teal'c to go get the wheelchair as he didn't think he could manage another walk back to wherever just yet. Doc Frasier would have him back in the infirmary if she saw him abusing his privileges.
Someone placed a cup of coffee in front of him and he smiled up at Sam.
"Thanks!" He latched onto the cup like he'd been dying of thirst in the desert and drank it down straight away, sighing with relief after the cup was empty. None of the others passed comment but Daniel exchanged an amused glance with Sam.
Jack spotted the almost imperceptible smile that lit Sam's eyes.
"What?" he asked, puzzled by the silent exchange. "It was hard work getting' here," he cried when he realised what they were referring to. "I haven't walked anywhere for almost a month for cryin' out loud!" he added, making them look at him in surprise. "Okay. Three weeks then. That's nearly a month," he conceded with a pout, pulling a face at them.
Sam snorted softly. He was impossible sometimes and definitely incorrigible, but she loved him none the more for that.
Jack grinned, but the reason for his exhaustion didn't pass un-noticed.
So," Jack began, looking round to see who else was around the mess hall, "did you find out anything more from this character, Diaz?"
"Only that you were right to suspect that he was as much a victim as you were," Daniel clarified.
"Which means what exactly?" Jack sighed. He'd known it wasn't going to be that simple.
"It's complicated sir," Sam said, slipping back into using his title now they were back on base and in public.
"So tell me anyway!" he ordered.
Sam motioned for Daniel to enlighten their CO.
"Maybe we should take this to your office Jack before I try and explain."
"Okay, but first, Teal'c I'll need you to retrieve my chariot; I don't think my feet are up to walking any time soon."
Teal'c took off immediately without another word, whilst Jack gave a little sheepish shrug under their silent censure for pushing himself too much already.
"Doc's arranged for me to have physical therapy every day from now on so I can regain my sea legs," Jack commented while they waited.
"That's good," Daniel agreed. "You need to regain all that weight you lost too."
Jack looked down at his slimmer figure and puffed his chest out in a self-examination, but Sam made him snort with indignation.
"Not all of it Daniel just a little," she giggled at the comical look on his face. He looked as if he'd swallowed a bug.
"Hey! I wasn't that big to start with," he cried.
"Just, well built," Daniel snorted. "Middle aged spread?" he asked Sam, who giggled helplessly at the two of them.
"Daniel!" Jack warned, but still Daniel was smirking, so he was on the receiving end of a friendly punch to his arm from Jack for his less than complimentary comments.
"Owww," Daniel drew out the cry of pain, rubbing his arm, and pretending it really hurt, much to Jack's triumph.
Then Teal'c was back and the deprecating conversation was largely forgotten as Jack eased himself back into the wheelchair. Daniel walked behind them carrying the crutches while Sam led the way, opening the doors.
OoOoOoOoO
Jack sat back in his desk chair, his face unreadable as he listened to the details that Hammond and his team had put together on the whole plot to, not only make him suffer, but to kill him off. If there had been one person in the world that he would believe capable of such a complicated scheme, he would name Kinsey as well. He didn't doubt it. As for the part that Diaz played he wasn't convinced it was just blackmail. There had to be something more. How did he get to Iraq? He was a prisoner too, so how did they work that? What did he have in common with the terrorists who had held him and Daniel? There were so many questions buzzing round his head that he didn't hear someone else enter the room until he was roused by Sam jumping up from her chair and greeting the General.
"General Hammond!" Sam said, standing in deference to her superior.
"At ease Major. Colonel, relax. Stay where you are. I don't expect you to stand with your feet as they are," Hammond stated with a smile as Jack tried to rise too.
Jack sank back onto his seat with a wince as well as relief. He'd automatically tried to rise and the sudden pain that shot through them had been a reminder that his feet were still very tender.
Teal'c vacated his seat and placed it closer to the desk for the General to sit down; while he stood comfortably with his hands behind his back at parade rest.
"I see Dr. Fraiser's let you have your legs back," Hammond said with a chuckle. He'd known that Jack had detested being pushed around. Jack was so normally active and independent that being tied to a wheelchair had certainly frustrated him.
"Yes sir, though I'm sure you didn't come all the way to my office just to comment on my improved mobility General. What's up?"
General Hammond sighed, there was no fooling Jack. The man might appear laid back but he was always on the ball. Even after everything that he had been through, he was as sharp as a pin.
He sat for a few moments to deliberate how to tell the news he'd been told. He'd had a talk with his friend in Washington DC and then he'd received a phone call from the President which had put everything into a whole other perspective. The investigations would take a different direction now and one which would cause a national uproar.
"Jack..." the General began, "...new evidence has come to light. Apparently the CIA have been investigating Senator Kinsey's associations with the Middle East for some time now. He had connections with just about anyone who would help him in his plans to get to the Whitehouse. He would then be in a position to help them in their rise to power, backing them with US taxpayers money to overthrow their respective governments. They knew of his scheme to take someone down in Iraq..." Hammond had to hold his hand up at this point because he could see Jack was about to interrupt. He knew what Jack was about to argue over. If they knew then why the hell didn't they stop it? He knew the answer to that too. Now. Now it was too late and Jack had suffered untold agonies because they acted too late. "...but, it wasn't clear at that point just who the target was, and by the time they discovered it was you, they were too late to stop you. You'd already gone on that phoney rescue mission."
Jack slumped in his seat. It had been so close. He could have been spared it they'd just been that much quicker in their investigations.
"I know that's not much of a consolation to you Jack, but there is one item of news that will hopefully make things a little easier to bear for you."
"What's that sir?"
"Apparently, Kinsey's associates got wind of the CIA's enquiries and didn't take too kindly to being involved in the investigation. Senator Kinsey was found shot dead in his office at his home this morning. The assassin was shot dead when he tried to escape. He was an Iraqi sympathiser, well know to the authorities but had up 'til now, eluded capture. The news of his death hasn't been announced to the public yet but the Press office at the Whitehouse are going to issue at statement to the press at 18:00hrs."
Jack sat in brooding silence as Hammond waited for some comment from him, but what could he say? That he would have liked to be the one who pulled the trigger? That he should have been the man who ended that Sonofabitch's life? He would have done it too, if he thought he could have gotten away with it. The bastard deserved nothing less for playing with fire. Good riddance to the piece of crap!
"Jack!"
"Huh?"
"Are you okay?" Daniel asked solicitously.
"Yeah. I'm fine. I would have done it you know! Killed that Sonofabitch!" Jack snarled angrily.
"Well now you don't have to Jack," Hammond sighed thankfully. He wouldn't want to see Jack serve the rest of his life in prison for murder, no matter that the Senator may have deserved his just reward."
"So what about Diaz?" Jack asked wanting to know what part he had played in all of this.
"According to the CIA, he was brainwashed some time ago to carry out this scenario."
"But he didn't act until now? How come?" Daniel was still mystified.
"He was probably a sleeper, right General?" Jack stated knowingly.
"A sleeper?"
"Someone who has been programmed to act on certain words at a certain time. Rather like I was programmed to self-destruct when I heard the word Mariposa," Jack sighed. He was tired. Tired, not just in the physical sense, but also in the politics involved. Tired of being a target, but now that Kinsey was dead, perhaps that would solve the problem. He only hoped that the President would appoint someone decent to the vacant post as head of the Appropriations committee. Just maybe he could get on with his life now.
TBC
