Teal'c entered Major Carter's lab, unsurprised by the sight within. The Major's blonde head was resting on the map she had spent the last day and a half perusing. O'Neill was snoring lightly in his more precarious perch, seated at a chair with his chin propped up by a fist.
Daniel Jackson had been missing for eight days.
The car that Rachel Mayers had signed out of the SGC had been discovered, abandoned, well within the search parameters. There, the dogs lost the scent that had so briefly appeared. Marks in the clearing led Teal'c to believe that perhaps the NID had gone airborne in their attempts to put more distance between their hostage and any assistance rendered by the SGC. O'Neill agreed.
Major Carter had remained back in the lab, recreating a digital image from partial satellite signals in order to try to work out something more. To her frustration, she met another block within the satellites under US government control. She had then attempted to hack into satellite signals utilized by corporations and non-governmental organizations for alternate images, but fewer of these images captured the time and place desired.
Several key shots confirmed suspicions that Daniel Jackson had been subdued and loaded aboard a helicopter, which had immediately headed southward. Area 51 had been scoured for any sign of the archaeologist, but O'Neill had voiced his skepticism in the briefing that Daniel Jackson was there. Teal'c agreed – it was simply too obvious.
Glancing over at his friends, Teal'c decided that they needed the rest. Cautiously shifting part of the map out from under Major Carter, he began carefully going through the materials scattered across her desk.
An assortment of maps, along with records of the landings and departures from nearby bases and airports, were neatly piled next to the computer, which had long since shut itself down. Remnants of food and drink containers, several of which Teal'c had brought to the lab himself, were interspersed among notes scrawled in haste.
His gaze was caught by several satellite images that Major Carter had zoomed in on, refined, and then printed out. One showed a figure surrounded by an armed group. Beneath was another picture, in which Major Carter had captured a smaller figure injecting the contents of a syringe into their friend. The third showed Daniel Jackson being lifted from the ground onto a stretcher, intended for the helicopter that was mostly cut out from the frame. Teal'c's eyes narrowed on seeing his friend's pale, lax features.
SG-1 to the briefing room immediately. SG-1 to the briefing room immediately.
O'Neill jerked at the announcement, almost falling from his chair. Teal'c raised a brow, watching the gray-haired man suck in a deep breath and shake out his hand. Carter shifted blearily, rubbing at her neck as she blinked and sat upright. "Sir?" The end of the query was swallowed by a yawn.
"Let's go, Carter," O'Neill grunted, gaining his feet. Spotting the third member of his team, he said with some surprise, "Teal'c. Where did you come from?"
They moved swiftly down the hallway. The absence of blaring klaxons indicated that most likely, General Hammond wished to speak with them on an important matter – and right now, the only matter of importance to Teal'c was the recovery of Daniel Jackson. "I have been perusing the materials Major Carter believes may help us in discovering the whereabouts of Daniel Jackson," the Jaffa replied. Personnel pressed themselves against the walls, keeping well out of the way.
Carter sighed. "I haven't had much luck," she admitted as they waited in front of the elevator. She covered a yawn in one hand. The three remained silent, each lost in his or her own thoughts, until they reached the briefing room.
"Sir?" O'Neill inquired, eyes sharp.
General Hammond was sitting at the table, talking calmly on the phone. He glanced up at their entrance, and murmured quietly, "Thank you, Professor. He's here now." Hammond was clearly relieved, the deep lines carved by worry fading from his eyes and brow. He seemed less world-weary, and Teal'c was grateful for the reprieve.
Teal'c cocked his head, watching as O'Neill took the phone, briskly barking out his name. A brow rose as their team's leader went silent. A moment later, he sat down hard, all color draining from his face.
"How is he?" he demanded into the receiver, voice shaking slightly.
There was only one person he could be talking about. Teal'c heard an indrawn breath next to him, and glanced at Major Carter. Hope shone out of her face, unable for her to hide if she tried.
"Dammit, just tell me how he is!" O'Neill snapped, flushing as the voice on the other end rose in condemnation. He quieted almost immediately.
"I don't care what you think of me, but keep him safe. We'll be there to pick him up immediately," he answered flatly, knuckles white where they gripped the plastic.
The person on the other end apparently had a strident opinion about that comment as well. Teal'c's excellent hearing could catch something of what the man on the other end was saying – most of it having to do with O'Neill's dubious ability to watch over a certain stubborn archaeologist, as well as a rather scathing mention of the Colonel's parentage. He himself smiled slightly at that.
"Thank you." The words sounded as if they were being dragged out of SG-1's team leader. He almost dropped the phone into the receiver.
"We've found Daniel," he said, as soon as the connection had broken. O'Neill pushed the chair away from the table, and looked to Hammond. "General, permission to -"
"Granted," Hammond broke in. "There's a car topside waiting to take you to Nellis. Plane's waiting. Go."
O'Neill nodded, almost rushing from the room in his haste. Teal'c and Major Carter were on his heels, and Teal'c blessed the woman for asking what he too wanted desperately to know.
"Where is he, sir? How is he?"
O'Neill shook his head, rounding a corner. "He's back in Israel, in Ein Gedi. The crew there recognized him. Apparently, he stumbled into camp not half an hour ago, looking like hell. He insisted that they call here immediately, and hasn't spoken since. There's nothing obviously wrong about him, but Mackerel sounded worried. And I don't like that," the other man snapped. He tapped at the elevator call button repeatedly, tensely waiting for the car.
Mackerel?
"Mackerel?" Major Carter echoed Teal'c's confusion.
"Professor Mac-whatshisname."
"Professor Macauly," Teal'c corrected automatically. The doors opened, and SG-1 waited with bad grace for the car to empty before piling in. "He was most adamant on Daniel Jackson's behalf when we visited last."
"I remember," Major Carter concurred lowly, glancing to where O'Neill was leaning against the elevator wall. It would have been difficult not to, Teal'c observed. The unacknowledged clashes between the military and academic opinions as to Daniel Jackson's well-being had been quite volatile. The Jaffa had the suspicion that this time, it was likely to be even worse.
The ride to the surface seemed interminable. Signing out without bothering to change, SG-1 raced to the car, talking quietly amongst themselves as they rode to the airstrip. There was planning, although no one had any real idea of what to expect – the call had been singularly lacking in details.
It seemed to his companions that they ran out of conversation all to quickly. Teal'c was no stranger to silence, yet the tension-wracked, expectant quietude that blossomed as they boarded the plane seemed enough to set his friends' teeth on edge. Once airborne, the Jaffa sat lotus-style on the empty floor of the cargo plane, and began breathing deeply in preparation for kel'no'reem.
"What are you doing that for?" O'Neill interrupted. Teal'c did not need his eyes open to know that the expression on the other man's face was a collage of worry. It was easy to see that O'Neill was directing his anxiety into anything that would take his mind off the length of their journey – and what waited for them at its conclusion.
"It is quite probable that Daniel Jackson will need us at full capacity to assist him," Teal'c calmly articulated. "I prepare myself for that eventuality. You would be prudent to do likewise."
An incensed huff was the only answer the Jaffa received, and he returned his attention once more to the soothing cycle of breathing, directing his entire self to the rhythmic series of inhalations and exhalations.
The noise of the plane and the faint murmurs from its occupants soon blurred together in a comforting drone, and all conscious thought dissolved along pathways of blood and muscle. His knowledge of self seemed far outside his physical being at this moment, suspended from a distance as he lost himself within the pattern of breaths. Untouched by his worries, Teal'c became nothing more than a vessel of tranquility, emptied of all apprehension and disquiet. He lived for – and because of – the air rushing into and from his lungs.
The minute changes in altitude first caught his attention, as if from a distance. He changed his breathing pattern, rising up slowly through the layers of his mind. His eyes opened.
Directly across from him, Major Carter was lying asleep on one of the narrow benches lining the inside of the plain. He heard a rustling noise, and turned to the right, towards the rear of the plane. O'Neill brought a sandwich to his mouth, chewing as he regarded them both.
Teal'c noticed that both his teammates looked much rested, having also changed into desert BDUs, and was driven to wonder how long he had been in kel'no'reem. He felt refreshed, and somewhat in need of sustenance. Rising, he moved to the back of the plane to change into the more acceptable brown desert garb, before returning to seat himself in his former position. Accepting the food O'Neill held out to him, he inclined his head and stretched out his legs.
The two ate quietly for some time, until the plane banked in a turn steep enough to rouse Major Carter. The blonde woman rose, looking much better for her rest, and joined her companions on the floor, where they were eating.
"We're prepping to land," she said. "Where will they be dropping us?"
"Ben Gurion International," O'Neill replied. "The US Embassy's been contacted, and we've secured military transport straight to Ein Gedi. ETA from the landing site is about three hours, straight across the desert."
Carter's lips thinned, and Teal'c had to exert an effort to keep his own brows from lowering in frustration. O'Neill, seeing their expressions, raised a placating hand. "It's the best that could be done," he assured them. "I'm not happy about the delay either. I'm going to call the dig site as soon as we land."
"Mac gave you his number?" Major Carter inquired somewhat skeptically.
O'Neill shrugged. "Apparently, Daniel said to. They weren't inclined to argue with him."
The plane banked steeply, and the three reluctantly stood, making their way to the benches and belting themselves in for a landing. Once on the ground, they geared up fully, pulling on vests and weapons. Teal'c carefully tied a bandana around his head, the action reminding him of the many times the team had prepared for missions together. The last thing Daniel Jackson had done before they left the locker room was tie his own bandana, before replacing his glasses.
They were far from the more active areas of the airstrip, and were greeted by several US soldiers upon exiting the aircraft. O'Neill immediately took charge, dismissing the men and moving behind the wheel. Major Carter sat 'shotgun', while Teal'c sat in the back. O'Neill had been studying maps and routes while his team had rested, and they made good time. The trip, for all its brevity in comparison to the flight, seemed much longer. While Teal'c was disinclined to notice such things, he did make note of his companions' tension. While they knew that Daniel Jackson had not been seriously injured, from the force of Mac's reaction, he was not in good condition – and this was a point of concern for them all.
By the time they reached Ein Gedi, it was nearly noon, local time. They had flown over the Arctic Circle, trying to take the quickest non-commercial route to Israel. The plane had been powerful enough to make the airport nine hours from the time when they had received word of Daniel Jackson's location.
Jumping from the vehicle, O'Neill moved swiftly up the hill to the young man waiting for them. He had brown hair, his face was tanned and dusty from his outdoor work, and tiny lines around his eyes revealed his worry. "I'm Tobe," he introduced himself quickly.
"Where's Daniel?" O'Neill demanded, not in the mood for polite chit-chat.
"Follow me," the young man said, turning toward a series of tents not far from what looked to be an oasis. He glanced back. "Just let me warn you – he's not himself."
"Explain," O'Neill snapped, quickening the pace.
The boy eyed him warily. "He came stumbling into camp last night, looking as if he hadn't eaten for several days. He was exhausted, but couldn't rest. He was wearing a short-sleeve shirt, and couldn't hide the marks - "
"What marks?" Teal'c ground out, voice dark with menace.
The boy jumped, nearly tripping as he led them closer to the oasis. "Needle marks. Like a junkie. Bruises. On his arms and wrists – like someone had to hold or tie him down. He's all keyed up – shaking, but not with cold. He's tried to rest, but he can't. We were afraid he would run – he wasn't sure if he was followed, and he didn't want to stay. He wouldn't tell us who did this to him – he just insisted that he needed you." There was a brief pause as the boy looked them over, but all of SG-1 was heartened at the statement. "Galya asked him how he got here, and he told us he had been kidnapped and held in Jordan. God alone knows how he got across the border without getting caught or killed."
Teal'c consciously flexed his fingers, surprised to find that they uncurled from tightly clenched fists. O'Neill's face was drawn in fury, and even Major Carter, who usually slid her emotions behind a military mask, was enraged. Tobe brought them outside a tent within a cluster of others like it, and then called out cheerfully to Mac that he had brought the friends Daniel had asked for.
The slowly entered the tent, one at a time. Even with Tobe's words, the sight that turned to face them was shocking. Daniel was filthy, covered in dirt and dust – over his face, caked into his clothes and hair. The wide blue eyes were teary and bloodshot, and with several days' growth of beard, he looked wild. His entire body was shivering, minute, comprehensive convulsions that made him tremble, and there were dark smudges under each eye. Whenever anyone came within two feet of him, he shied nervously away.
"Hey, guys," he said quietly, voice a little hoarse.
"Daniel Jackson," Teal'c stepped forward slowly, keeping his voice low and soothing, his hands in the open, as if he were coaxing a wild animal to him. "What has transpired?"
The archaeologist gave him a tired, wavering smile. "A lot," he breathed, before coughing harshly.
Major Carter stepped forward, proffering her canteen, and Daniel accepted it with murmured thanks. He took only a small sip, and O'Neill was gazing at him with obviously worried eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Daniel's tired smile was a small, wincing thing that twisted Teal'c's heart. "Better, now," he said. "But – we have a very big problem. We have to get back to the US. After -" the archaeologist broke off, glancing at Mac and Galya.
Despite his obvious exhaustion, Daniel seemed in full possession of his faculties. Teal'c felt a frown twisting his lips. The effects of whatever drug they had given him must have worn off – and it could not be merely a sedative. In the sunlight shining into the tent, the bruising and small smears of blood were very evident, although Daniel didn't seem to notice them.
Catching their cue, the two archaeologists stood up and took their leave with murmured excuses. As soon as the tent flap fell, Daniel slumped into a camp chair, raising shaking hands to his face.
"Daniel?" Major Carter moved to kneel at his side, placing a careful hand on his shoulder. He jerked, pulling away at the touch before he looked up at her shocked face. "Sorry," the linguist whispered.
"It's okay," the woman soothed gently. She glanced at O'Neill. Teal'c himself moved to stand next to Daniel Jackson, close enough for reassurance, but not discomfort. The leader of the team moved to crouch next to Daniel.
"Hey," he said softly.
Daniel smiled, and this time it looked almost real. "Hey," he murmured. "What brings you round these parts?"
O'Neill pursed his lips. "Well, we're looking for a friend of ours. Bright fella – archaeologist, linguist, anthropologist. Speaks - what was it, almost thirty languages by now. The NID snatched him, and we got wind that he turned up here. You wouldn't happen to know where we could find him?"
"Jack," Daniel protested, a little bit of his old energy shining through.
"Daniel," O'Neill smiled.
Daniel laughed a little, and Jack reached out and ruffled his hair gently. Teal'c, sensing the slight relaxation in the tense body they were all so focused on, quietly moved and gathered several nearby chairs. As he pulled them to the small huddle in the middle of the tent, he listened avidly to the light banter between the other two men. It felt as if the last piece of a puzzle had snapped into place. It felt right – it felt good.
But Teal'c could not forget the pain they had all experienced, and the injustice done to Daniel Jackson, at the hands of the NID. Quietly he vowed to himself to avenge his friend. He glanced at O'Neill, and saw an identical vow shine out of his eyes, before they turned to Daniel and softened. There was much they needed to know.
When they were all seated, Jack asked, "Danny, you want to tell us what happened?"
-
Someone asked for a bit more of Teal'c's perspective, and so I gave this chap to him. It's a bit longer than the norm – in an apology for lateness. Hope you enjoy!