((My muse is like a ferret on pixie sticks; it's hard to pin it down but I somehow pull it all together and surprise myself with another coherent chapter.))

((Edited - 11/25/04.))

Stargate Command
Level 27 -- General Hammond's Office – 1:15pm

He had just spent several minutes talking with Captain Wilkinson regarding the apparent misdirection of Major Frasier's body. After assuring her that he would look into the matter and that she was to continue with her autopsies. He ordered her to remain silent regarding the situation and thanked her for her diligence.

Rubbing his face with both his hands he sighs tiredly. He had only gotten roughly 3 hours of sleep in the last 24-hours having spent several moments sitting with Colonel O'Neill; before retiring to his quarters he had run across Dr. Warner and learned from him that once Colonel O'Neill made it through the first 24-hours his prognosis for a full recovery was good.

Turning in his chair and reaching for the phone he picks up the receiver and pressing a single button is connected Pentagon office of the Joint Chief's of Staff.

"This is General Hammond, connect me with Major Davis please," he said to the switchboard operator; silently waiting for the line to connect with Major Paul Davis's office, the envoy between the SGC and the Pentagon. As the line connected with a soft click "Yes General, what can I do for you?" The young officer asked on the other end of the line.

"Major I just received a call from the Academy Hospital regarding a situation." The next few moments where spent bringing Major Davis up to speed on the current situation namely the events on P3X-666, the need to use the Academy's Morgue and finally the apparent disappearance of Janet Frasier's body.

As General Hammond finished talking Major Davis responds, "General I would advise you to keep this quiet for the time being. I will quietly have Peterson Air Base searched and if Major Frasier's remains are located it is nothing more then a logistical mistake, if on the other hand her body is no where to be found. I won't tell you what the ramifications to the program might be; the potential for a Foothold, even only with a single Go'a'uld lose on Earth, could be the ammunition that Senator Kinsey needs to convince the President to cede control of the Stargate to the NID." he says.

"I will brief the Joint Chiefs and get back to you as soon as I can." Pausing for a moment he adds "I would also advise that for now, no one not even SG-1, is informed of this situation until the Joint Chiefs reach a decision." He says in a serious tone.

With a click the call is over, placing the receiver back in its cradle is leans back in his chair. His eyes drift to the picture of his two grand daughters that rests upon his desk.

Reaching for the remote he switches on the small TV in his office and pressing the small play button for the built in video player he starts to scan through the documentary produced by Emmett Bregman.

Scanning to the scene that he sought he hits play and the sounds of the events on P3X-666 fill his office, the voice of Dr. Frasier as she calls out to the Colonel then her looking up for a split second before a staff blast strikes her squarely in the chest and pushes her backwards.

The camera jostles and he hears the voice of Dr. Jackson fill the room. He pauses at the close up of Janet's face; her eyes are empty the spark of life gone from there depths, a small trail of blood at the corner of her mouth. He had seen that look countless times during his service in Vietnam. She had been dead and if this wasn't a logistical error and she was in fact alive, the grim odds where that she was under the control of a Go'a'uld and loose in the general population.

There was no other explanation he could conceive of.

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Downtown Denver
16th Street Mall – 4:00pm

John ideally flips through the afternoon edition of the Denver Post without even bothering to read or look at the pictures; he patiently waits for his 'Immy' to come out of the final shop she had entered not more then 30 minutes ago.

One by one, operating off of mental list he surmised, she hit shops in an orderly and frankly efficient manner. Luggage first, having those particular items shipped to her hotel room; he's was able to learn this by spending several moments inspecting the shops selection of leather portfolios and briefcases.

It was a risk, but one that had paid off as he heard where to have the luggage delivered and, more importantly, to whom namely Ms. Diana Wolff room #317 at the Palace Hotel.

The next hours where spent in one store after another where enough clothing for a few weeks, he guessed, was purchased. It was in the first store that the newly born Ms. Wolff exchanged her current clothing for what he had to honestly admit was a very becoming outfit, and very outside the norm of what the former Air Force Major wore.

As he glances up from across the street she emerged from the shop onto the sunny Denver street clad in black ankle length boots with a slight heel, black Capri slacks, a dark maroon silk blouse and what seemed to be every Immortals required article of clothing a calf length leather trench coat of a size just slightly more then her petite frame called for, but more then adequate to hide a sheathed sword.

Her attaché was held in her left hand, in her right where several bags, who contents he could only guess where clothing. Noticeably absent was the blue backpack.

Bringing the rangefinder of his digital camera to his eye he starts to do his job, snapping several pictures as she dons a pair of fashionable sunglasses while she strolls down the slightly crowded street. Moving from his position next to the bus stop at the other side of the street, he begins to parallel her direction.

Stopping at the corner and glancing at her wrist, she proceeded to flag down a cab and after transferring her purchases to the trunk slips gracefully into the backseat and the cab vanished down the street.

Noting the cab's license number John turned and crossed the street, starting back towards the store; he had learned that it was easier to wait in one spot then to try and follow a target. Unlike his younger counterparts, he had grown past the 'follow that cab' stage of chronicling an Immortal.

Walking into the store she had just left he proceeds to wander about glancing for any indication of where the pack might have gone. Before he decides to give up, he plays a hunch and, after asking the saleswoman if he could use the bathroom, proceeds back behind the cloth curtain that separates the shop from the stores offices and storage.

Its then that he notices the blue backpack folded over on itself in the trash bin next to the unisex bathroom door. Grabbing the knapsack he walks into the bathroom and locks the door; quickly opening the pack he finds the remains of a prepaid cell phone box and a matching set of surgical scrubs.

Taking off his weathered leather bomber jacket he slips the backpack on and hitches the straps tight ensuring that the pack will ride close to his back. Slipping his coat back on he casually washes his hands and as he keeps the scrap of paper towel in his hand walks out of the store without looking back.

Now he would drive to the Hotel and park in the best spot to observer the front entrance; while waiting he would file his updated field report via his laptop with a copy forwarded to Joe; the report would be the standard field update including today's photo surveillance and more importantly her new identity.

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((More to come, Happy Holiday's readers))