"Where the hell is he?" Jack hollered, noting with perverse satisfaction that Frasier jumped in shock.
Daniel had given them the slip. On the way to the infirmary, Sam, naturally, and volunteered to forewarn Janet of his approach – and to reassure her that immediate resuscitation would not be required. That left Teal'c and Jack dogging the linguist's heels much like persistent, overzealous terriers.
Once they had arrived, he had asked Jack to pick up a specific book from his office for him – one that was apparently in several languages, none of which happened to be English. Jack had commandeered Teal'c as backup, and spent a disgusting amount of time searching for a tome that had apparently been lying in plain sight on top of a stack to the left of Daniel's desk.
In the meantime and unaware of their errand, Hammond had wanted Sam to figure out why the klaxons had gone off and the iris engaged – although it had not opened – at the inception of the foothold situation.
So, quite by accident, Daniel had been left alone in the infirmary. And the anthropologist had taken advantage by speeding the inspection and booking so fast the door hadn't had a chance to hit him on the way out. This was not good.
He hadn't stopped by his office, either, or Jack would've run into him.
"Well?" Jack demanded. At his side, Teal'c glowered.
Janet frowned. "He had low levels of dopamine and serotonin, which combined to make him irritable and depressed. It was an offshoot of being exposed to those - entities, for any period of time. Several of my nurses are also showing effects. Added to that he's a little banged up, and exhausted. I told him to get rest, and he promised he would. I thought he was going to get you."
Jack snorted in disbelief. "Since when has Daniel ever made it that easy for us? Why didn't you just keep him here?"
Janet's face was frozen. "He still doesn't trust me, Colonel. What would you have me do? Further his discomfort by forcing him to remain here?"
Put like that, Jack didn't have much to say. He snarled a bit under his breath, and turned on his heel. One quick call affirmed his suspicions – Daniel had signed out, and requested that an airman drive him. Where, Jack couldn't find out. Daniel's car had been indefinitely leant out to his former neighbors, a newlywed couple in dire straights. He wouldn't be repossessing it for some time, given his innate generosity. He also had nowhere to stay outside the Mountain, but there were several motels within a half-hour's drive, which barely narrowed Jack's search parameters.
"C'mon, T," Jack said, leaving the infirmary. The other fell into step next to him.
"What is your plan, O'Neill?"
Jack threw a sideways glance at the stoic Jaffa. Teal'c looked seriously displeased. Jack winced. "We're gonna grab Carter and track down our archaeologist," he informed the warrior.
Teal'c nodded in agreement, and Jack called out as they reached Carter's lab, "Carter!"
Entering the lab, they saw that Sam's back was to them, and she was absorbed in a phone conversation. Jack impatiently waited for her to finish, but was taken aback by the anger in her face when she dropped the phone into its cradle and turned to them.
"Carter?"
She glared at them, then realized who was in her office and adjusted her expression appropriately. Jack winced as her furious stare focused in on a cabinet next to him. "Sir."
"Carter." His voice was crisp, full of authority, demanding a report.
"Sir. I've discovered the reason behind the unexpected alarm this morning." She plowed right on through any comment Jack might have made. "It was a distraction, in order to allow the NID operative held in a containment cell in the lower levels to escape. There is no question that he received inside help from at least one, and probably more, people."
Jack's face froze. "So Daniel's information was right," he muttered, more for the benefit of anyone who had doubted than for himself.
Sam bit her lip. "Sir - "
"Spit it out, Carter."
"The saboteur has an intimate knowledge of the 'Gate's dialing system, as well as the security software governing the entire base."
Jack's quiet curse made Carter purse her lips in agreement. "Is there anything we can do about it now?"
Frustrated, Sam shook her head. "We'll need to start critically examining all personnel with even the slightest technical capability. It's going to be a monumental task, and quite honestly we have a very low chance of success. Our actions can't be interpreted as other than what they are, and we're probably going to tip the culprit off as soon as we start asking questions. Also, records and files are so easily falsified that -"
Jack, having intimate knowledge of this type of situation, cut her off. "Have you informed Hammond?"
"He's up-to-date on the circumstances, sir."
"Good. Let's go."
"Sir?" Sam was surprised.
"Daniel's cut and run again, and I don't think that he really needs to be left alone after what happened today. Do you?"
Sam only shook her head. Daniel was still hurting, still healing, and this had to be a wrench. He'd only been back for a few days before a foothold situation had thrown the base into confusion; compounded with that, he'd been used as leverage against his friends. It was the norm for the SGC, but Sam wished that it had held off, just long enough for Daniel to get his feet under him again.
The three friends had appraised Hammond of the situation, changed and signed out within moments. Over the next three hours, they scoured the motels in and around the Colorado Springs area, coming up blank. No one with Daniel's description had reserved a room in any of the establishments. They checked their own houses and answering machines, but couldn't find any trace of the missing linguist. Worry escalated slowly into full-blown panic.
At the end of her rope, Sam suggested finding the airman who had driven Daniel, and they returned to the base. Yet the airman who reportedly had taken Daniel, a 'Rachel Mayers', had not returned to base either.
Teal'c said what they had not wanted to admit. "Daniel Jackson is missing."
Sam's fists clenched at her sides. Jack looked like he wanted to beat something to a pulp.
"Carter," he barked. "Find out everything you can about Rachel Mayers." Hard eyes told her what words could not, and dread coiled deep in her stomach.
Several moments of typing later revealed the picture of a woman of approximately thirty-seven years of age, with cropped brown hair and brown eyes. Her face was squared and oddly angular, much more masculine in appearance than feminine. She had light technical background, and was only brought into Cheyanne four months ago.
Jack frowned at the picture. Her file was ordinary enough; no outstanding – either good or bad – accomplishments or comments on her personality. No black marks that would draw the attention of her superiors. All in all, she was disturbingly ordinary, one of the people who simply faded into the background at the SGC.
Sam frowned, and did a standard background check. Nothing came up, not that she expected anything to. But something didn't sit well with her, and she decided to check more extensively into Private Mayers' profile.
Half an hour later yielded definite results. A near invisible trail of association with NID incidents and known collaborators led Rachel Mayers straight from Area 51 to Cheyanne.
And with this realization, Sam's heart plummeted. Gathering all her evidence as quickly as she could, she raced to the briefing room.
She threw open the door, interrupting what appeared to be an escalating disagreement between O'Neill and Hammond. "Sir!" she interrupted, ignoring protocol.
"Major," Jack said coolly, eyes still on Hammond. "What is it?"
"Sir, it's the NID," she said, throat dry. "They've got Daniel."
The three men in the room stared at her, their faces reflecting a medley of emotions – shock, horror, and finally, murderous anger.
"You are certain, Major Carter?" Teal'c's voice was dangerously low, his stoic attitude ruined by the fists clenching on the tabletop.
Sam nodded, and was able to detail the situation in a few words, explaining the connections she had traced which had led her directly back to Area 51.
Jack's face was a frozen mask, and Sam winced, glancing away from the glacial fury in his eyes.
Finally, she brought herself to ask the one question she didn't have the power to answer – but hopefully, one of the men before her would be able to. "Now what?"
- - - - - - - - - - --
Ok, it's a tiny bit shorter than usual, and yes, evil cliffie of me. :) Anyway, I'll probably be hit by inspiration to continue after my most evil exam on Tues, so look for another posting towards the end of the week. :) HAPPY HALLOWEEN!