CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – Dangers Exchanged
What potions have I drunk of Siren tears,
Distilled from limbecks foul as hell within,
Applying fears to hopes, and hopes to fears,
Still losing when I saw myself to win!
What wretched errors hath my heart committed,
Whilst it hath thought itself so blessed never!
How have mine eyes out of their spheres been fitted,
In the distraction of this madding fever!
O benefit of ill! now I find true
That better is by evil still made better;
And ruined love, when it is built anew,
Grows fairer than at first, more strong, far greater.
So I return rebuked to my content,
And gain by ill thrice more than I have spent.
Sonnet 119 by William Shakespeare
All during the debriefing, Sam watched Amelia carefully out of the corner of her eye. Since returning from P3X-651, the girl had been unusually subdued, though her sobriety seemed more reflective than depressed, which Sam found relieving. Naturally, Amelia had spent a good deal of time talking with Jonas, but in all other company, such as the debriefing, she spoke minimally and mostly listened.
The fight and flight to get back to the gate hadn't been easy. They'd lost two men from SG-7, and SG-13's Balinsky had suffered a severe sprain in his left leg that would leave him out of action for several weeks. Sam herself was presently enduring an incessant throbbing in her right elbow— she'd landed hard on that side in the midst of providing cover fire once they'd reached the gate.
Now she sat next to Colonel O'Neill at the briefing table, listening as he and Colonel Dixon concluded their description of the mission to General Hammond.
"And we're certain the facilities inside the mountain were completely destroyed?" General Hammond finally asked.
"We felt the impact not long before we got back to the gate," Sam said. "I guess we'll have to put our faith in the Ancients' self-destruct, but I think I can reasonably affirm that, sir. Fortunately, the self-destruct seemed designed as an implosion rather than the other way around."
"Otherwise we might have had more to deal with than an earthquake," Colonel O'Neill pointed out.
"We can send a MALP in a few weeks, see if we can confirm anything else," Colonel Dixon concluded.
"I'll consider it," General Hammond said. "In the meantime," he sighed and looked around the table, "good job, everyone. It was a difficult rescue mission, and you all did yourselves credit."
"Thank you, sir," said Jack. Sam glanced over at Hailey, who was looking more than a little forlorn. Sam tried to imagine what it was like two lose two team-mates in one blow. Losing Daniel had been hard enough.
"Dismissed," said General Hammond. "Get some rest, people."
All in all, it was not a very cheery day. Sam worked alone in her lab, pondering all their losses, feeling quite reflective herself. She mostly worked on typing up her thoughts on the Ancient facility while the memories were still fresh in her mind, using all the pictures from Jonas's camera to help. Though she by no means second-guessed her advice to destroy the mountain, the loss of all that potential technology gave her a sickening feeling of regret that only time was going to ease. She was dying to know what sort of programming enabled those consoles to respond to mental commands, and why only Colonel O'Neill and Jonas could make it do so. She hadn't even gotten a chance at the crystal technology she'd so desperately wanted to get her hands on. If only they'd come away with something – anything – that would have made the deaths of two good men feel so utterly futile.
Late that afternoon, her phone rang, almost surprising her out of her reverie. Standing up, she stretched her neck slightly, easing the strain, and went to answer it.
"This is Carter."
"Major Carter? This is Sergeant Simmons. There's a Malcom Barrett here from the NID. He says he wants to speak with you and Colonel O'Neill."
Barrett had never actually been to the SGC before. It felt a little bit like stepping foot in a foreign country, especially since everyone who'd heard 'NID' after his name kept giving him sidelong glances of suspicion as he was escorted down two elevators to the lower levels. He supposed they couldn't really be blamed. His organization hadn't exactly built up a lot of good will in its history with the SGC. It was something he hoped he could change, and that his mission here today would help towards that end.
He was taken to a bland grey room and left to cool his heels. About five minutes later, he was joined by Major Carter, Colonel O'Neill, and to his surprise, General Hammond.
"Barrett," Colonel O'Neill greeted pulling back a chair to sit across from him at the table. "You want to tell us what's going on?"
"Oh, the usual," Barrett replied with a small smirk, watching Major Carter follow suit out of the corner of his eye. "Intrigues, subplots… general sneakiness."
"All in a day's work?"
"Pretty much."
"Are we finished?" General Hammond chided.
Barrett was amused at the slightly chagrined expression that passed over Colonel O'Neill's face. "Sir," he ceded.
Hammond turned to Barrett. "Agent Barrett," he said, "what's this all about?"
Barrett paused half a moment, looking between the three, and then said, "Is Senator Kinsey's daughter still at the SGC?"
The evident surprise on Carter's face was satisfactory. "Yes," she blurted. "Why?"
"And how did you know that?" Colonel O'Neill added with a mild scowl. Barrett only raised his eyebrows, and the Colonel rolled his.
"I've had a wiretap on the Senator's office phone for the past seven months," Barrett said, folding his arms. "It probably wouldn't surprise you to know that Kinsey's contributions to the SGC to grease permission for his daughter's treatment were subsidized by many of the rogue NID elements we've apprehended in the past few weeks."
Colonel O'Neill snorted. "I knew it seemed out of character," he said.
Carter was still trying to digest the information. "No offense, but…what would the NID care about Amelia's illness?"
"Rogue NID," Barrett corrected her. "And the answer you're looking for is Tretonin."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "Of course," she said.
"Unfortunately, though we managed to cut off some of the heads of the hydra, I wouldn't bet my best Armani that we got them all."
"How long have you known this?"
"About the tretonin thing?"
"Yeah?"
"Since before Miss Kinsey came here."
"And you're just now telling us?" Colonel O'Neill said, incredulously.
"Yes."
"Why?" asked General Hammond. His stiff posture told Barrett that he was easily as displeased as Colonel O'Neill.
"At the time, I decided to hold out and see if I could learn more. And it's a good thing too, because raising a ruckus back then might have jeopardized all the progress I'd made in learning the identity of these people."
"You just said you didn't think you'd gotten them all."
"I still don't, but I take what victories I can, and we did come away with a win in the duplicator business."
"Does Amelia know about this?" Major Carter asked softly, staring at the table.
Curious at her tone, Barrett cocked his head and studied her face carefully as he replied. "No, she doesn't."
He was rewarded with unmistakable relief in her eyes. She took a deep breath. "So, now we're back to the original question. Why are you here?"
"After the assassination attempt, I managed to get a wiretap on the phone in Kinsey's study too. I'd dared to hope that whatever faction it was that specifically wanted the tretonin was one of the ones we'd quelled, but there are others."
"It's not the sort of thing that would turn only one head," Colonel O'Neill observed.
"Too true, Colonel. They're pressuring Kinsey to deliver, and they seem more desperate than before. Unfortunately, they're still being careful enough that I can't yet track them down… in the meantime I think precautions should be made to protect both Miss Kinsey and the security of the tretonin project."
"What do you propose?"
"There's a doctor in the Washington area. He keeps a small, private practice. He's one of my people, actually— ex-military, mostly retired from this life of stealth, but he's helped me out once or twice. If we could give him security clearance, I'd be willing to trust him with the safekeeping of the tretonin. And Miss Kinsey would have to be told all of this. Doctor Jansky could meet whatever regimen she needs to maintain her health, and we could orchestrate it in such a way that anybody monitoring her movements wouldn't catch on. In the meantime, we tell Kinsey that she's not taking any tretonin off the base— that her treatment is mostly over, and that if she needs any more she needs to return to the SGC.
"My only question," he said, leaning forward slightly, "is about Miss Kinsey herself. Do you think she could be trusted?"
The three officers shared very long, knowing expressions. It was Colonel O'Neill who replied. "She just saved our lives, in circumstances that dear old dad certainly never would have bothered. She's got my vote."
"Mine too," said Carter, and General Hammond nodded.
"But you can't really expect that to be the end of it," Colonel O'Neill went on. "If these people can't get their hands on tretonin, they might want to get their hands on Amelia."
Barrett nodded.
"And?"
"I've got a couple of ideas about that too."
Two days after the rescue mission, General Hammond departed for Washington on business on behalf of the Air Force. As Colonel O'Neill was second in command, this meant that SG-1 was not being deployed on missions. Though Jonas and Major Carter worked hard doing research during the day, Jonas's evenings were free, and he spent nearly every minute with Amelia.
They'd talked often about what had transpired in their offworld adventure. For Amelia it was an experience she'd not soon forget. It had been hard to sleep the first few nights— memories of the running, the shouting, and the fighting filled her senses, and she found herself a thousand times more frightened in the aftermath than she had been in the midst of it. Jonas's comforting presence was a soothing balm to her shaken spirits. With his help, it wasn't even too long before she was able to smile again. Of course, the admiration extended to her by everyone at the SGC didn't hurt either.
Almost a week after General Hammond's departure, Amelia and Jonas sat side by side on the small sofa in the rec room, sharing a bowl of peanut M&Ms and plenty of enthusiastic conversation. "So what kind of candy do they have on Kelowna?" Amelia asked. She pushed two brown M&Ms together until their shells cracked, then began picking off the chocolate in tiny bits and eating them one by one as Jonas replied.
"Unfortunately, no chocolate."
"I'm so sorry," she said with exaggerated sympathy. Then she nudged him playfully with an elbow. "But that doesn't answer my question."
He sighed. "Um…okay, candy. Well, we have a process of infusing dried fruit with sugar. It's called a sweetfreeze. Those are pretty good. I've always wanted to see what it would taste like to try it with some Earth fruits. Especially plums," he added thoughtfully.
"Mmmm. Sounds good. What else?"
"Candy sticks that you dip into sweet dips and sauces. Making a good sticky sauce is a culinary art form." He grinned. "The thicker the better."
She grinned back, licking the last bit of M&M off the back of her thumb. "You should make some."
"Ah…no. I like to eat food, but nobody likes to eat mine," he said with a laugh.
Amelia gave a mock gasp of shock. "You mean mister quick study can't cook?" she asked, then burst into a peal of giggles.
"Yeah," he said, rolling his eyes. "Hard to believe, isn't it?" When she'd finished laughing, Amelia only stared back at him, eyes sparkling with unmistakable mischief. "What?" he asked innocently
"You have chocolate on your face," she said, raising her eyebrows and leaning her face close to his.
He frowned. "I do? Where?"
"Right here," she said, and reached up with her fingertips to the corner of his mouth. Then she caught his eyes in hers, her expression playful and full of meaning.
"Yeah?" he said slowly back. "I might need a little help with that," he said knowingly.
"I thought that's what you'd say," Amelia replied with delight. She leaned forward and placed a very soft kiss upon the offending spot, lingering there for a moment until Jonas reached up and put a hand behind her head, drawing her into a full and proper kiss, which wasn't long in coming.
One of Amelia's hands was already on Jonas's face, but the other was quick to join it, tracing up both sides of his jawbone lightly with her thumbs. Then her hands proceeded down his neck to his shoulders, and then she slid them forward until her arms were completely draped around him. Wordlessly, Jonas accommodated her shifting body, drawing her into his lap, his hands coming to rest on the small of her back.
With a contended sigh, Amelia broke off and rested her head on his shoulder. She looked up at his face and smiled. "Yup," she said serenely. "All gone."
"Well, that's a relief," he said. She laughed and closed her eyes, snuggling her head more comfortably into his chest, appreciating how very warm and solid it was.
"Amelia?"
"Hmmn?"
"What will happen when you go home?"
Amelia opened her eyes again and stared, wordlessly, at a bare corner of the room behind the door. "I don't know," she finally said. "I've thought about it and thought about it, and I just don't know," she added mournfully, her voice muffled.
He traced his fingers slowly up and down her arm. "We could talk to General Hammond," he said. "I'm sure there's some way I'd be allowed to send you letters."
She turned her face back out again. "You wouldn't be able to say much," she said softly.
"I know. But it'd be something, right?"
"It would be something," she agreed.
"They can't keep me on this base forever," Jonas said resolutely, to no one in particular. Amelia did not reply. She would have liked to share his optimism, but she was more familiar with such things than even the average person in her country, let alone Jonas. She knew it might be a very, very long time before he would be allowed to leave.
Unwillingly, Amelia's thoughts drifted to next week, when she was projected to depart. Malek had come the day before, with a generous supply of Tretonin, and had given her a thorough examination. He declared she was ready for a much lower dosage.
This morning she'd had a more interesting meeting— this time with Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter, who'd introduced her to a fair-haired, kind-looking man named Malcom Barrett. She'd reluctantly agreed not to divulge to Jonas the content of their discussion. It hadn't exactly been a comfortable conversation. Agent Barrett had told her many disturbing things about her father and his connections— things that frightened her. Among other things, they'd explained their plans to keep the samples of tretonin safe from her father's cohorts, and how they planned to keep Amelia herself safe.
Amelia had never in her wildest dreams imagined she would have any reluctance in reclaiming the life she'd had before she was sick. She missed the orchestra very much. She missed spending the off-seasons with Lydia and her niece and nephews, watching them get bigger. On top of all that, now she had Mission Impossible-esque cloak and dagger type dangers to worry her, but by far her greatest reluctance had to do with the man who now held her so warmly. In Jonas she had found the most wonderful and unexpected treasure. How could she possibly just leave him behind?
Slowly, Amelia sat up to gaze at Jonas fully in the face. He stared back, his eyes roaming her features as if trying to memorize them. Those eyes – so warm and piercing, always watchful and seemingly innocent. She lifted a hand to his face and ran her fingers lovingly over its clean-cut angles, tracing his hairline. "Letters," she agreed softly, before their mouths came together again.
This time it was not flirty or playful, but desperate and heartfelt, burgeoning with something more intense than either of them had felt before. It wasn't long before Jonas tipped her back slowly onto the sofa behind her, all the while never relinquishing her mouth, and she found herself grateful they were technically still in a public place, so that propriety would keep her from crossing any lines that her willpower might not be able to manage just now. One hand cupped the back of her head, the other was at her waist. Amelia's hands were full of fistfuls of his t-shirt.
A moment later he stopped and pulled away, breathing heavily for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said, his eyes roving her face.
"For what?" she asked in confusion.
"We should probably stop," he said reluctantly.
Amelia sighed and gave him a knowing smile. "Yeah," she agreed quietly. "I know."
He brought his other hand to her face and kissed her one last time. This one was softer, closed, and tender. It had a sense of finality.
It was nevertheless too late.
"What is going on here?"
The voice was harsh, demanding, and as unyielding as tempered steel. A chill of panic washed over Amelia at the sound of it, and she broke away from Jonas with a gasp, her eyes darting disbelievingly to the door. For a full horrifying seconds, she wasn't capable of uttering a single word.
"Dad?" she finally managed, weakly.
Robert Kinsey's tall form filled the doorway, and the look he was giving them could have withered a grizzly bear in its tracks.
One more chapter!
Hope you guys are enjoying the fast-track ending. LOL
Saché
