Thanks to Goo...

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"Knew I should have turned you down." Daniel's lips thinned as he aimed with careful concentration, then tossed the dart toward that annoying red center that wouldn't stop moving. It landed on the rim.

Jack snorted and caught Daniel's arm as he stumbled. "All I said was it should be investigated."

"Investigated my ass." Daniel pointed an unsteady finger at Stan. "I should have left YOU at the SGC. Just where did you hide those pictures anyway?"

"I have very big pockets."

"Bastard."

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for being concerned," Stan said, feigning hurt and placing a hand to his chest.

"You realize I can't trust you now." As usual, the beer was making Daniel very fluent in his gestures. He waved his arms, hitting Jack in the chest. "How can you do that? Sorry."

"Whoa, Daniel, ease up, huh? He was right to say something and you know it." Jack pulled at his friend's arm and plopped him into the nearest chair while taking his beer from him. "Talk about not being able to hold your drink."

"Jack. . ."

"No, Daniel, I want you to level with me. I'm going to sacrifice a game of darts, a game which I'm winning, by the way, so you better talk." He sat opposite his friend and eyed him steadily. "Has anyone threatened you? Watched you a little too closely, followed you around the base, anything like that?"

"Only Stan here, and he's harmless." Daniel rolled his eyes at Jack's pointed glance. "Oh, for Pete's sake, we went to the same college. You know he's here as an observer for the government, whatever new organization they've managed to form. Like we don't have enough."

"I know about Stan, thank you. I wasn't implying Stan. I wasn't implying you, was I?" Jack snapped his attention to the man who was lounging in the corner chair with boots propped on an abandoned table.

"Doesn't matter to me if you were, to be true. I've no idea what's going on."

"Why were his pictures in your box?"

"No clue. Stan Greyson, Dan Jackson, think the person who delivered it could have misheard the name?"

"Daniel never goes by 'Dan' around here."

"And so goes my theory, right out the east window." Stan raised the bottle to his lips.

"I still say it's a prank," Daniel muttered. "Probably one of those marines. They love to get my goat."

"They have an odd way of doing it." Jack shook his head. "Maybe you should stay at the base until we figure this out."

"Jack, the jail sentence was just lifted. Besides, what good would that do? You want Teal'c to babysit? Forget it."

Stan thought about it. "Actually, you've been talking about all that work you have to catch up on. Don't pretend like you aren't working late at night. I can help." He shrugged. "It would be someone with you, and legit."

Daniel exhaled sharply. "Fine. If nothing else it'll get you two off my back." He reached for his bottle and glared at Jack as he held onto it tightly.

"Uh-uh. You've already lost your ability to rationalize. Enough."

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Jack had relayed the information, and hoped that the meeting that was being called would shed light on the matter. He didn't like the idea of Daniel being followed. Stan was true to his word, staying by the man's side during all hours. He would glance in on them before leaving, and often wondered just what they were discussing with such fervor. Daniel was ecstatic to have someone who spoke his language, plus a few others. Complain as he would, Jack knew his young friend was enjoying the company.

"Colonel, Major, thanks for coming. Have a seat." The General pulled his own chair to the table, noticing Carter's glance to the outer hall.

"Sir, what about Teal'c and Daniel?"

"Major, this is a rather delicate matter. I brought in the two of you for a special reason."

Jack cut his gaze over to Sam as he sat. "You know, it's a security thing." But if this was about Daniel, why wasn't he here?

"You both know Major Fogarty from Internal Security."

"See?"

Hammond gave Jack an impatient glance. "Colonel, Major, you are aware that the explosion incident is being investigated above our level?"

"That's good to know, sir," Jack said.

"I'm afraid we may have information that points to this being a much larger problem than just misplaced material." Hammond turned to the security chief. "Major?"

"Sirs, Ma'am." Major Fogarty stepped forward. He put Jack in mind of a retired football player, one of those mama's boys from the south that started tossing pigskin as soon as he left the womb. He didn't like the man. "As you know, the Pentagon keeps a close eye on the Stargate program. It's a major security hot point."

"We had noticed," Jack muttered.

"And it's not just the gate itself. I was put on alert that we may have a problem domestically. Here, on Earth, that is."

"The Pentagon looking into housewife issues now, Fogerty?" Jack asked patiently.

Fogerty wasn't phased. "I've had some information cross my desk that suggests that we may have an issue with our neighbors to the East."

"And this neighbor would be. . ."

"Well, Colonel, I'm sure you can imagine which of our easterly neighbors would be a prime worry to a place like this."

"Let's see. . .all of them? For god's sake, will you get to the point?"

"Colonel!"

"Sorry General, I just want to know if this quarterback's gonna play ball or not!"

"This is sensitive material. . ." Fogerty continued.

"I'll give you sensitive material," Jack said, his voice painfully low and sharp, "We just had several people die in an explosion that shouldn't have happened. This means we have a rather important incident on our hands and no time for your pussyfooting bureaucratic bullshit, so if you have some information for us then spill it! Otherwise we have work to do!"

"Colonel!"

"I'm sorry!" Jack's eyes widened slightly and he found he was standing. He took a deep breath and sat, pulling the water glass closer to him. "I'm sorry."

"Major, we're understandably upset. Please continue, but I agree with Colonel O'Neill. Cut to the chase."

Fogerty sat and folded his large hands in front of him, giving O'Neill an evil eye. "What I'm saying is, it looks like we may have an agent for a foreign power working here at the SGC."

Sam straightened. "Excuse me?"

"I'm saying we may have a mole."

"We know what you're saying, Major," Hammond said curtly, "and quite frankly I'm not sure what to think of it. These are serious charges."

"I'm aware of that, sir. And as we've discussed before, I'm fully aware of the potential outcome and the severity of these charges, and I wouldn't be making them if I didn't believe it to be true."

Sam clasped her hands tightly before resting them on the tabletop. "What makes you think there's a mole?"

"Ma'am, there's more than just the DOD looking into this. I'm in receipt of some important information from sister agencies which strongly support some of these conclusions."

"Strongly support some of these conclusions? What conclusions? What sister agencies? Cut the political jargon and give us something to work with here!" Jack's patience was wearing thin once again.

Hammond leaned in. "Major, you've made these assertions to me once before, and I would like to hear more myself."

"I really don't have the leeway to give you this. . ."

"Major, I have three stars that say you do. Now." He leaned forward testily. "If you didn't have relevant information, you wouldn't be here."

"FBI," Fogerty said gruffly. "CIA. And it's under the table, it isn't substantiated. They're telling me as a courtesy."

"And you're telling us as a courtesy?" Jack countered.

"I'm telling you they don't give me any fuckin' leg to stand on! Sir." Fogerty turned to Sam. "Begging your pardon, ma'am. Look, I don't have anything hard core. I've got rumors. But I've got a lot of rumors, you know what I mean?"

"Fogerty. . ."

Fogerty nodded. "Fine. CIA says we got neighbors that want to know about the Stargate. FBI says we got a Chinese physicist, three archaeologists, and two spy masters on our soil along with some other guy they can't ID, all situated in Pueblo, Colorado. They also say they got suspicious movements from one of your people, someone eyeballed a guy that looks a lot like a joker we brought on board three months ago, name of Stan Greyson." That got Jack's attention, and Fogerty noticed. "Uh-huh. That enough rumor to sound like something to you, Colonel, or are you with the General that I see shadows in the crapper every night?"

Sam leaned forward. "So, are you saying Greyson is meeting with Chinese intelligence relaying information about the Stargate?"

"Because that's what it sounds like you're saying," Jack interceded.

"I'm saying, people who know some people who get paid by Uncle Sam saw some guy they think is Greyson walk into a mall that's not his regular spot with some folks who we know damn well are red Chinese bad guys with a capital B."

"They think is Greyson," Jack said hotly. "Come on, there are dozens of skinny, geeky scientist types around here, and god knows I have a hard enough time telling them apart in the halls! Hell, it could have been the druggist down the street! You got proof?" Fogerty whipped out a blurred bank camera photo of a man. Jack scoffed. "Well that's it, boys and girls, we can go home. I'm convinced."

Fogerty pulled out several more photos, one a half shot of a licence plate on a car that resembled Greyson's, another a shot of a man in a restaurant window, the image distorted in the glare. Jack nodded.

"Oh yeah, that's concrete evidence right there."

"As concrete as my Aunt Sadie's Jello salad."

"I've never had your aunt's Jello salad, Fogerty." Jack slapped the photos on the tabletop. "I mean, come on. I'd be more convinced by a crayon drawing from a blind child."

"We looked at his bank accounts, but if he's taking cash he's hiding it damn well. He's not a moron, that's for sure. No new car, no new clothes, no new broads. . ."

"That's because he's a GEEK!" Jack turned from the Major. "Give me a break," he muttered as Sam cleared her throat.

"So why's he doing it? IF he's doing it."

"That we don't know yet, Major. We have several working theories. We know his grants went south about four years ago due to budget cuts. Hit the retail shops while looking for work."

"I want to know what you've got against this guy," Jack cut in. "These pictures are crap. Now there has to be a reason you're trying to pin this on Greyson, some reason other than flimsy photography."

"And I'm saying this is what we got. The circumstances fit. The reasoning fits. Given the chance we can catch him in the act."

"You've done your homework, Major," Hammond said, "but it's circumstantial. This won't hold up in court."

"General. . ."

"Your photos are blurry, the license plate is obscured, and as you said earlier, not all of your conclusions are supported. Hell, these photos don't support anything!"

"Sir. . ."

"You have my permission to set up surveillance on the base. Only."

"Sir, we're talking security at a US Military Government base. . ." Fogerty was heated.

"And I'm telling you to step up security! Your accusations point to treason, and I'm not willing to risk a man's freedom on evidence such as this. You'll have to bring me more."

"Sir. . ."

"More, Major. And I expect reports daily. I want to know who goes where, why, and long they've been there."

Fogerty stiffened, and realized he had to accept the limitations as a won battle. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed." Hammond stood and checked. "Colonel, can I speak to you privately?" He waited until the room cleared, then gestured for O'Neill to take the seat closest to him.

Jack sighed. "Look, if it's about my comments to Fogerty. . ."

"Out of line, but understandable. I'm concerned."

"You mean those pictures of Daniel."

"It could be that the CIA is monitoring the activity of any and all members who have been in contact with Greyson."

"Then how did Stan get the pictures?" Jack asked.

"Where did he say they were?"

"He says he found them in his inbox, and I don't mean in his computer. I mean on his desk, where he keeps his paperwork. He was wondering why he had them and not Daniel." Jack leaned forward. "You think someone is trying to scare Stan, or are they trying to distract him?"

"By showing they're tailing someone else?"

"Maybe."

"I don't know. That seems too transparent, even for our government." Hammond leaned back. "Another option is that Dr. Jackson is being tailed by these men that Fogerty is watching."

"At least his pictures are clearer. CIA should get a better camera. Chinese." He looked up. "I guess under the circumstance we should turn the pictures over."

"I think so."

"Which means Daniel will have to go in for questioning."

"More than likely."

"Lovely." Jack sighed and slapped the new photos onto the table. "What a wonderful week this is turning out to be."