It took Jack awhile to realize he wasn't dead. He blinked awake through the pain and the dust and peered into the darkness that surrounded him. A heavy weight pressed on his legs but otherwise he was unhurt. He fought to pull himself into a sitting position and tried to wrench his legs free but he couldn't move them. When he reached out into the darkness, his hands met cold stone where his legs should have been. Panicked, he rolled to the side. A sharp stab of pain shot up his leg, stole his breath and caused white lights to dance in front of him. Jack closed his eyes and let the wave of nausea and fear fade away.

After a moment, he opened them again. The pain was less and the air seemed to be clearing of grit, but the darkness blinded him. He waved his hand in front of his face and while he could feel the air move, the hand was invisible. With a frustrated sigh, he patted the floor around him and hoped his goggles hadn't been buried. It was too dangerous to shift the debris until he could see what damage it would cause, both to the building and to his legs.

His hand hit the goggles and a quick tug released them from the rubble. He slid them onto his head and they scraped over a new gash on his forehead. The pain of it clouded his vision and the world spun. Once able to breathe again, he dropped the goggles in place and flipped the on-switch. There was an electronic buzz and the world flickered green and fuzzy. The view in the goggles steadied and the room swam into focus in front of him.

A small portion of the ceiling had fallen when he'd pushed on the door. Dust drifted through the air and the skeleton that had been trapped in the doorway grinned at him. The walls around him groaned and shuddered but they held. The falling stones had pushed him back as it knocked him down and the fallen debris had landed on his legs rather than his head. It was a miracle he wasn't dead. Some miracle: trapped in a Goa'uld pyramid on a God-forsaken planet.

The pile of stone fragments on his legs was heavy and his left knee ached from the pressure, but it bothered him more that he couldn't feel his right leg at all. He pushed himself up to a sitting position to get a better look at the problem. The pile of debris that spread out before him was two feet high and made up of small fragments of stone from the ceiling. The real problem was the one large slab of ceiling that lay on top of the debris that covered his legs. It could either pin him there forever or slide off and crush him.

Clouds of dust rose up to choke him when he cleared some of the smaller pieces away but he couldn't get enough leverage to move the heavy slab. He waited for the dust to settle and studied the pile again. His digging had only caused the stone to slip more his way. This wasn't working, so he changed tactics. His left leg was partially uncovered, so he dug at the dirt on that side. As soon as he had freed his thigh and knee, he eased his left foot out from under the pile of rubble. The large block teetered, slid imperceptibly toward him and then steadied. He flexed his leg, happy for the twinges of pain he felt, just as long as he could move it. If only the next leg was freed as easily.

Jack took a deep breath, leaned back and placed his foot against the stone. After two more deep breaths and the count of three, he gritted his teeth and shoved. The stone block grated against the debris it rested on, resistant to the pressure. He braced himself against the doorjamb and pushed again. The slab held for a moment, then slid back and sideways to ram into the door. The plumes of dust that filled the air choked him. The heavy stone door groaned and rained another shower of filth down on him but the ceiling held. Jack waited for the suffocating cloud to settle again. It only took minutes for a grainy blanket of dirt to cover him.

The crushing weight was off his leg but the numbness remained. After a moment's pause to gather his courage, he shifted his weight, and wrenched his leg out from under the pile of rubble. His knee twisted. A blinding pulse of agony lanced up his leg and white points of light danced in front of his eyes.

"Oh, God!" He slammed his fist into the ground and fought to ride out the wave of pain and nausea. Still got feeling, then. That's good. The pain usually ebbed after a couple of seconds, but this time it continued to burn, sharp and agonizing. It was almost impossible to focus but he managed to blink through the pain.

One heavy stone, still buried in the shale, trapped his foot and forced his knee to bend and twist at an unnatural angle; when he ran his hand down his leg and over his knee, he felt the telltale bump of a dislocated kneecap. He exhaled sharply through his nose, bent forward and pushed the stone off his foot. The weight eased but the pain remained. The kneecap had to be snapped back into place. Ideally, someone else should pull the leg straight after giving him something for the immense pain that the action would cause. Having neither help nor meds, he settled for biting down on the strap of the goggles before he straightened the leg. The kneecap slid back into place with a grinding snap. The pain peaked, the world spun. His muffled scream echoed around the room.

He lay back, breathing heavily. There hadn't been the burning rip or the distinctive pop that accompanied a torn ligament. The pain had morphed into a penetrating tiredness that infected his entire body but that was far preferable to the brain numbing agony of a few seconds ago. He moved his foot, braced himself and flexed his knee. It was weak and sore and a slight grinding noise echoed through his bones when it moved. But move it did.

Relief gave him new strength. He managed to pull himself up, balanced on his left leg and flexed his right knee again. Encouraged, he put some weight on it. It held. Movement and use didn't cause any additional pain and he could stand on it when it was locked straight, although it threatened to buckle when he bent it. There was none of the usual searing pain from the abuse of torn muscles and he allowed himself the thought that there was no major damage. He could feel the knee stiffen, though, and he knew that even without a tear, the swelling and weakness from the dislocation would still cause him problems. An elasticized support bandage was stuffed into the bottom of the first aid kit in his satchel and he used it to bind his knee. The pressure from the wrap eased the pain and he could trust it with his full weight, even when bent. He didn't think he'd climb many stairs or run anywhere in the near future, though.

He leaned against the doorframe and took a moment's rest to look over the room. The goggles flickered and the static that snowed in front of his eyes obscured the details of what he saw. Cracks laced the ceiling and entire sections had fallen into piles of debris scattered across the floor. Tables and workbenches were half-buried in the rubble and he could see the naked bones of those who had died there.

It was a tomb; the first of many this planet would have. Jack dug the pack with the C-4 out of the dust and picked his way through the rubble. Like the room in the other pyramid, there were shelves along the walls, but these were damaged and broken. Shattered remnants of jars and containers littered the floor, layered between the strata of debris. Most of the damage was years old and shrouded with dust, but the collapse of the ceiling had dislodged several shelves and the new damage stood out against years of collected residue. Jack didn't know if the sudden chemical taste to the air was his imagination but the more he thought about it the more he could taste it. The walls closed in on him.

"Get a grip, Jack." He set ten charges of the red-marked C-4 around the room, then hobbled back to the doorway and traded his pack for his satchel. While use strengthened his knee, it still hurt like hell and shook with fatigue. The thick layer of dust hid debris and he had to kick the dirt away to find sure footing. The air soon filled with a choking cloud of grit that spun like dust devils around him. After he inserted the detonators, he spread the contents of another can of the powdery napalm over everything. This place needed to burn.

The claustrophobia from the room didn't ease when he limped back out into the hall. He fought the feeling and, after one last look around the room, he synchronized the timers with the ones in the first pyramid. More than ninety minutes had passed. If he could make it out of the pyramid in thirty minutes, he'd have two hours before everything blew. One-hundred-twenty short minutes to avoid the Jaffa patrols, infiltrate the occupied, guarded pyramid, place the bombs and get safely away. Piece of cake. The timer almost disappeared into the dust when he set it down; it's blinking numbers ominous in the inky blackness. The empty eye sockets of the skeleton followed him as he moved and ghosts skittered at the back of his mind. It took all his concentration to ignore the fear as he retraced his steps out of the pyramid.

The fresh night air was even more welcome this time and the open darkness finally dispelled the paranoia that ate at him. Jack hobbled to the side and placed his back against the solid stone wall. He slipped off the night-vision goggles and wiped the sweat away from his face. A large red orb of a moon had appeared while he'd been inside. It bathed the surrounding area in a surreal light that washed everything in blood. A violent shudder racked his body and he fought to keep his balance. It was so much colder out here than it had been in the suffocating closeness of the building. He refused to believe that his shivering came from anything other than the cool forest air. More sweat dripped into his eyes and he wiped it away, then stopped and peered at it. It wasn't sweat; it was blood.

He stared at it, a deep crimson in the red-lit moonlight.

Another powerful tremor shook his body and he sank to the ground as he rode out a wave of nausea. His head felt filled with rocks and his warm blood dripped down his cheek. A quick check revealed a large gash above his right eye and a goose egg-sized bump behind his ear. If he had a concussion, he was in big trouble. The stone felt cold against his face and it helped him focus.

The zat and some clips for the P-90 had been lost in the ceiling collapse. The night-vision goggles were damaged and his equipment, like himself, was coated in the talc-like dust. It would be a miracle if anything would work. Pain filled his head, and he retched bloody grit onto the ground. He just needed to rest a couple of minutes and give himself a chance to acclimate to the cold. Shivers crept over his skin and across his scalp. Just a minute's rest and he'd be as good as new. His eyes closed and the tremors in his arms and legs lessened, his ragged breathing loud in the silence.


&&&&&


"Dad, we're in the dark here," Sam said as she sat down at the conference table. "Why did you think we contacted you?"

"Because of the mission, of course," Jacob said. "The one that Anise was to propose."

"What mission?" Hammond asked the question before Sam could.

"Anise didn't talk to any of you?" Jacob Carter stared at the people assembled on the other side of the table

"No," Sam said. "Anise didn't say ten words to me while she was here." She looked at her teammates.

"I didn't see her at all," Daniel confirmed. "Teal'c?"

"Anise did not engage me in conversation during her stay," Teal'c answered. "Neither did Freya."

Jacob looked over at the general. "George?"

"She said she just needed to talk to Dr. Fraiser. You better fill us in, Jacob."

"About three weeks ago, word reached the Tok'ra council that a planet that had once belonged to Nirrti had fallen under the control of Cronus. On this planet, Cronus discovered one of Nirrti's labs that had been abandoned and unused for centuries. It looked as if Nirrti had given up her research there, but Cronus sent one of his people to investigate it. He discovered that Nirrti had been working on a powerful contagion."

"Like the one she used on Cassandra's planet?" Sam didn't even try to keep the hatred from her voice.

Jacob's head bowed and Selmak spoke. "Not exactly. That virus, while powerful, wasn't airborne, had limited reproduction capabilities and was non-persistent. This new virus is several times more powerful, is airborne, reproduces itself rapidly and is persistent. From what we learned, a single infected subject could annihilate an entire planet in less then twenty-four hours and the virus itself could possibly survive on that planet for several decades. It would continue to infect anyone exposed to it." Selmak waited for them to assimilate that information before she continued. "The only positive aspect is that the virus kills quickly. Those exposed die within minutes."

Daniel stared at Jacob, aghast. "That's a positive?"

"Yes," Sam answered quietly. "It means that it would be restricted to one planet. It would insure that no infected subject could escape and carry the virus to new places." She kept her voice calm and focused on the scientific aspect of the conversation. "What information do we have on the contagion?"

"The microorganism remains dormant until combined with the activating enzyme. Prior to that exposure, it is vulnerable to extreme temperatures. Burning is the most effective manner of destroying it at this point."

"Then we firebomb the base," General Hammond suggested.

"No," Jacob took over the conversation. "We need to be sure that all samples of the virus are destroyed. None of the weapons we have available are powerful enough to insure that."

"What about a thermonuclear weapon?"

Daniel leaned forward. "What, 'nuke it from orbit'?" Is that the military's response to—"

"We considered that," Jacob interrupted. "There is concern that the penetrating nuclear radiation may have an unknown effect on the virus. The radioactivity and heat might combine to mutate the contagion. The planet also has very strong electromagnetic fields in its upper atmosphere. Our sensors can't penetrate it clearly enough to give us the readings we need to pinpoint the base or check for success."

"What does that leave us?" Sam asked. "Is there any possibility of a counteragent or a vaccine?"

Jacob shook his head. "We've not discovered a counteragent. There, is however, a vaccine, of sorts.

"Of sorts?" Daniel repeated. "What do you mean 'of sorts'?"

Selmak again took over the conversation. "While the virus is only fatal to humans, the vaccine has an unfortunate reaction to naquadah. None of the Tok'ra test subjects survived."

"Then I won't be able to have the vaccine," Sam pointed out.

"No. With the naquadah in your blood, it would kill you."

"I, also, would be unable to receive the vaccine," Teal'c said.

Selmak nodded. "It is fatal to all Jaffa."

"But we could distribute it on Earth," Daniel said. "We could start by vaccinating the personnel of the SGC."

Sam nodded. "Once we have a team inoculated, we can infiltrate the base and destroy the contagion." She may not be able to take the vaccine, but she could help make and distribute it.

"That was the plan that Anise was to propose," Selmak said. "Jacob and I convinced the Tok'ra council that the SGC would accept the mission but that we needed to be completely forthcoming with you."

"Forthcoming about what?" Hammond demanded.

"The vaccine is very difficult to make," Selmak said. "The exact effect of the drug on each person is determined by the individual's physiology; therefore, the vaccine needs to be tailored to each person that it is given to. The development of each individual vaccine takes days."

"So, no mass produced vaccine to distribute to the population," Daniel said.

Selmak nodded. "There is also a problem of persistence."

"Persistence in the environment?"

"No, individual persistence. Those who are vaccinated are protected from the effects of the virus but it doesn't eliminate the virus from their system."

"They would become carriers." It took Sam a moment to understand the full meaning of Selmak's statement. Her heart fell. "They would be the modern equivalent of Typhoid Mary. Immune from the effects but infecting everyone else they met.

"Yes," Jacob returned to the conversation.

"But only if they were exposed, right?" Daniel asked. "If they destroyed the virus without coming in contact with it, then it wouldn't be a problem. There would be no reason . . ." He faded off when he saw Jacob shake his head.

"Even with the best possible scenario, some of the contagion would be released. Our operative made it clear they stored activated contagion on the planet in order to test it on living subjects. When we destroy the production labs, some of the activated contagion will escape."

"That will kill everyone on the planet," Daniel looked across at Sam, appalled.

Sam shared his feelings but knew they didn't have the luxury of being scrupulous.

"From our information the planet has no intelligent, indigenous life forms," Jacob said. "There hasn't been for hundreds of years."

"You don't know that for sure. It's got to be a big planet."

Jacob shook his head. "There is no other way, Daniel. This planet was dead as soon as Nirrti placed her experimental lab there."

"Jacob Carter is correct," Teal'c added. "We must not let Cronus utilize this weapon. It is a necessary sacrifice."

"A necessary sacrifice?" Daniel's voice rose. "Is that what genocide is called these days?"

"What about our team?" Sam ignored Daniel. "What would happen to them?"

"They should be immune to the effects of the contagion," Selmak answered. "However, as I said, they will be infected."

"They will never be able to leave the planet," Sam finished. She felt sick.

"No."

"What?" Daniel rubbed his hand across his face. "First they release a virus that kills every other living person on the planet and then they'll be trapped there?"

"It is an unfortunate circumstance," Selmak agreed.

Sam pressed her hands against the cool wood of the conference table, the room close and hot around her. This was a suicide mission. No, this is worse. Whoever did this would have to live, live on a world that they had killed.


&&&&&


Jack woke with a violent shudder, his stomach heaved and the blinding pain in his head spiked. He rolled to the side and vomited. Weak and disoriented, he pulled himself to his feet and fought to clear his head. How long had he been out? Panic made his pulse race. The cover on his watch refused to obey his trembling fingers, so he ripped it off with his teeth. Forty minutes — he'd been out for forty minutes. His head spun and the world danced in front of him.

"Damn it."

He leaned back against the wall, pulled a flask off of his belt and poured the water over his head. The C-4 would detonate in less than ninety minutes. If he couldn't get into the active lab and blow that before then, he'd never get close enough to destroy it. He took a pull of water, rinsed the sour taste out of his mouth and spat it on the ground. The red moon had crawled further across the sky and the clouds that lurked in front of it cast bloody shadows.

As he rubbed his knee in an effort to work some strength back into it, he considered his options. Unlike the first two, this pyramid had a Jaffa guard at the entrance and personnel inside. His original plan had been to scale the back of the building creep into the unused portions and sneak down into the lower levels without being seen. There he would plant the C-4 and get the hell out. That is so not going to work anymore. He couldn't creep or sneak; he'd be lucky if he could limp and lurk.

A fine thread of desperation traced through him. There was no backup, if this mission went south, there would be no second chance. The light from the Jaffa encampment drew his attention. If he allowed himself to be caught, they would take all his equipment. Even if he did manage to keep the C-4 and powdered napalm, there was no guarantee they would take him anywhere near the lab. He needed a distraction; something to keep the Jaffa occupied and out of his way long enough to get into the pyramid, gimpy leg and all. He needed something for the guards to chase besides him. He needed a jailbreak.

Not wanting to advertise his presence with the sound of gunfire, he searched the bottom of his satchel for the spare zat he'd packed away. It snagged on the first aid kit when he pulled it out and the medical bag fell to the ground. Jack picked it up and turned it over twice in his hands. The pain in his knee was tolerable but the ache in his head pulsed with each heartbeat and made it hard to concentrate. He dug out a package of ibuprofen and swallowed the pills dry before sticking the kit back. Zat in hand, he took one tentative step on his leg. It held.

The scattered rocks made it hard to walk as he worked his way toward the Jaffa and their prisoners. He could disable the lights at the power source with the zat, and a couple of well-placed pieces of detonation cord would knock some of the pen walls down. With any luck the prisoners would escape, the Jaffa would pursue and he would have time to get into the pyramid without being seen. He wouldn't have to run, climb or jump anywhere.

A small generator that sat on the other side of the compound, directly opposite the occupied pyramid, powered the lights. It rested several feet from the largest of the light poles, unfenced and unguarded. Jack worked his way down to the clearing, heavily favoring his injured knee. He crouched along the tree line, just a yard away from the door to the pyramid. A momentary thought of being able to sneak in through the front was dashed when two Jaffa appeared for a moment then returned inside. It would be better, anyhow, to have the people out of the cages when the bombs went. They wouldn't survive long anywhere on the planet but at least they would die free.

He studied the layout again and mentally mapped out his best route to the generator. With one last wistful look at the pyramid's opening, he swung both of his bags off his back. Speed and stealth were essential and he was in short supply of both; he didn't need to be weighed down by unnecessary equipment. He pulled a roll of primacord out of his satchel, cut it into two-foot lengths and slung the bundle of cords around his neck. After he moved some ignition caps to his vest pocket, he hid his bags in the shadows.

The Jaffa still sat around the fire. Some looked to be asleep. Jack hated to think what T would say about that. These were not top-of-the-line Jaffa. Lucky for me or I'd be dead. Jack steeled himself and then moved to the light pole. His limping run wasn't fast, but at least it was quiet. He leaned his shoulder against the pole and tried to hide behind its narrow protection. The clearing remained silent and he chanced a look. None of the Jaffa had noticed his run. Several pairs of eyes from the stockade watched him, though, and he held his finger to his lips. He prayed that they understood it meant they needed to be quiet. His eyes met theirs before they broke contact. Once sure they wouldn't give him away, he focused on the generator. It didn't look like it would explode if he zatted it. More than that, it didn't look big enough to cause a lot of damage if it did explode. Unless it's some of the nasty alien stuff that Carter's always messing with. Which, of course, it was.

Jack chewed his lip and considered his alternatives. There were none. He aimed at the generator. The zat's familiar sound echoed in the stillness and blue electricity danced around the generator. The lights dimmed but didn't go out. The Jaffa stirred and looked up at the lights. Jack swore and zatted the generator again. Without waiting to see the result, he turned and hurried into the shadows that hung around the fences. The lights flickered; then the compound was plunged into darkness. Jack ignored the shouts and cries and wrapped a length of primacord around each of the three links between the fence sections. He stuck a detonator in each one, backed off a couple of feet and zatted them. The power surge triggered the detonators and the cords erupted in blinding fire, which seared through the metal connections and fell to the ground in pools of liquid flame. Before Jack could move, the prisoners acted. They rushed the side where Jack had burned the barrier free, shoved it open and fled into the dark woods. The Jaffa, confused by the blackout and drawn by the burning primacord, chased after them.

Jack faded away from the chaos and worked his way over to another one of the confinement pens. Five Jaffa still guarded the remaining prisoners and two more leaned over the malfunctioning generator. Jack detonated another set of primacord on this pen and the captives again swarmed through the opening it made. By this time, the prisoners in the last pen had gathered enough courage to try an escape without Jack's aid. The Jaffa, unable to contain the escapees, fired wildly into the running mass of people but were overrun in seconds.

Jack left the fighting behind him and crept toward the middle pyramid, secure in the knowledge that the pandemonium he started would continue. Four Jaffa ran out of the door in front of him. Jack flattened himself against the wall and willed himself to blend into the darkness. The sound of snapping electricity came from behind him, followed by an ear-shattering boom. A quick glance over his shoulder as he headed into the pyramid showed a large, smoking hole and several dead Jaffa where the generator had stood. The last of the prisoners disappeared into the woods. The clearing was eerily empty.

Somewhere in the darkness, an explosion echoed, followed almost immediately by another one. Claymores. Jack didn't know if they'd been set off by the escaping prisoners or by the guards. Don't think about it. It didn't matter. Either one gave him the distraction he needed.

Two more explosions rent the night as Jack worked his way back around to his bags. He moved the last the bricks of C-4 to the satchel and tossed the backpack aside. With one last double-check of his equipment, he melted into the darkness of the pyramid. The room was large, dim and still. Jack waited for his eyes to adjust and his breathing to slow. The torches that lit the entrance cast foreboding shadows along the floors and walls. Jack hugged the edges as he made his way down the main hallway. The red dust that layered the other pyramids clung to this one as well. He left a clear trail but he hoped that the shadows that hid him would mask them as well.

The upper floor's torch-lit corridors gave way to well-lit hallways. It was increasingly difficult to remain hidden. The lower level's bare walls and clean corridors may have made it easier for him to move, but it also made it easier for him to be found. He moved as fast as he could and followed the same path he had traveled in the other buildings. The smooth floors made the trip faster and he covered good ground despite his injured knee.

Several levels down, he pulled out the handheld device and switched it on. The signal was strong and steady, and he followed it to the left. He came to a group of rooms that looked well used. The largest of them held a ring transport device, the next two were living quarters and the final one looked to be a supply room. All were unoccupied. The device led him past the cluster of rooms. At the entrance to the hall on the other side, he paused to rub his knee and listen for any movement.

If the light on the handheld was any indication, the room he needed was just ahead and that's where he'd most likely run into resistance. He dropped the device into his vest pocket and gripped the zat tightly in his hand. His P-90 would be better, but gunfire would draw far too much attention. He edged up to the doorway and peered around the corner. The hall was short and ended at a closed door with a Jaffa guard in front of it. Jack took a deep breath, slid around the corner and zatted the guard, who fell without a sound. After waiting a second to be sure there were no reinforcements, Jack zatted the Jaffa twice more and then pulled out the handheld. The bright signal pointed to a solid stone door. He returned it to his vest and pushed the door open, zat at the ready.

The piercing squeal of the device cut through the air. Jack swore. It stuck in his pocket when he pulled at it and its scream filled the room as Jack stabbed at the buttons. As the alarm died, he was hit from behind. Colored lights danced in front of his eyes and he crashed into a table. The device and his zat clattered to the middle of the floor. His attacker wrapped a thick arm around his neck and held him as he hit Jack two more times in the side. The edge of the flack vest cut into the staff weapon burn and Jack choked for breath.

Jack gave with the onslaught and dropped to the floor. Pain shot through his knee when he hit the ground, but his attacker was pulled off-balance and stumbled. Jack rolled forward and freed himself from the assault. Another roll took him to the other side of the room, but he misjudged the distance and collided painfully with the wall. It took a minute for his head to clear. The Jaffa who attacked him rolled to the middle of the room and reached for the fallen zat. Jack pulled his pistol from his holster and fired three times. The Jaffa slumped to the floor and blood pooled around the body. Jack struggled to his feet, gun at the ready, but no one else came through the door.

Jack holstered his pistol and pulled out the last of the C-4, which he placed around the room. When he was done, there was just thirty minutes left on the timers. Barely enough time to get clear of the blasts. He took a moment to zat the body on the floor three times. The Jaffa disappeared, a pool of blood on the floor the only sign of his death. It only took a minute to spread the last of the incendiary powder around the room, and then he hobbled out and closed the door behind him.

The hallway was clear and he headed back out at a limping run. He made it all the way to the entrance room before he heard movement. The shadows hid him as he dodged to the side and pressed back against the wall. A woman in a long black coat, trailed by two Jaffa, strode into the pyramid. They headed down toward the lab. As they passed his hiding spot, Jack gripped the zat and held his breath. They didn't look his way. Jack watched them pass; and then turned to sneak out the door.

Two Jaffa materialized from the darkness outside and blocked his escape.

Jack reacted first. His zat shots split the air between them. As they dove to the side, Jack shot again. They disappeared into the shadows and he made a desperate attempt to run through the door while it was still clear. Shouts rang from behind him and the crackling sound of zat fire sang over his head. Jack dodged out the door and cut to the right. He hugged the wall and headed for the dark cover of the forest. On his third step, his foot twisted in a hole and his knee gave. He rolled with the fall and tried to stand, but his knee buckled. Before he could recover, rough hands grabbed him, pulled him to his feet and ripped the zat from him. A Jaffa loomed in front of him; his staff weapon hummed as it powered up. Jack braced for the shot.


&&&&&


The SGC conference room was silent. Daniel waited for someone to protest Selmak's plan. He wanted the general to demand an alternative. He willed Sam to come up with something brilliant. They couldn't just sit here and talk about condemning SGC personnel — and an entire world — to a certain death. They had to have a better plan.

Instead, Jacob spoke. "We're running out of time here, George."

"You can't order men to go on a suicide mission," Daniel protested.

"No," Hammond said. "They will need to be volunteers. How many men do you think you will need?"

"The fewer, the better," Jacob replied. "The base is small with only a few of Cronus' people, so it should take a small strike force." Jacob stopped and rubbed his hands across his face. "But it will take too long. Once the volunteers are chosen, we will have to develop the individual vaccines and transport them to the planet. Anise was supposed to have handled all of this by now."

"What if she did?"

They all looked at Sam. A familiar gnawing fear ate at Daniel's stomach.

"Jack." As he said it, he knew it was true. "Jack would be the logical person to choose for such a mission. He's done this kind of thing before."

"Anise has all his medical and physiological records from when we had the armbands." Sam moved forward to lean on the table. "She would have all the data she needed."

Jacob looked around the table. "And Jack's not here?"

"No," General Hammond said. "We don't know where he is. I knew he was up to something. Damn it!" He slammed his fist on the table. "Walter!" he bellowed.

The sergeant materialized at the door. "Sir?"

"Get Captain Jameson on the phone. I want to know where Colonel O'Neill is and I want to know it now!"

"Yes, sir." Walter snapped a salute and left.

"Even if Anise talked to Jack, why wouldn't he tell us about it?" Daniel asked

"If O'Neill thought that it would require only one man to complete the mission," Teal'c said, "he would accept the risk himself."

"We all know that Jack would jump at any chance to put himself in danger," Daniel said, not even trying to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"I have never known O'Neill to risk his life when it was not necessary, Daniel Jackson."

"Well, you haven't known him as long as I have."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow at him but Daniel continued before the point could be argued. "Even if this is all true, it doesn't explain where he is now."

"Is someone going to fill me in on what's happening here?" Jacob demanded.

"I will, Dad."

As Sam gave a summary of the past days' events, Daniel walked over to look down at the Stargate. It was so like Jack to go running off on a suicide mission without a word to anyone. Stupid SOB probably thinks that he's sparing us all a lot of worry and pain. He'd spent the last four years working with Jack O'Neill and he was no closer to understanding the man then he had been the first time he'd met him. That wasn't true: he understood him less than he did when he first met him.

As Sam's recitation of the weaponry Jack stole drifted into the back of his mind, he found himself thinking about why Jack would have taken that all with him rather than ship it through the gate. And how did he expect to get through the gate, now? None of this made any sense. Why ship stuff off planet and then walk away from the only way off that planet?

"General Hammond?" Walter's voice interrupted Daniel's thoughts and Sam's explanation of Jack's disappearance. "Captain Jameson is on line three."

Daniel watched General Hammond walk into his office and pick up the phone before he crossed back to the table and sat down next to Sam again. Jacob looked across at him.

"Sam says you suggested contacting me but you say you had no idea that Anise had talked to Jack."

"No," Daniel said. "It was just something he said. That he should've learned never to trust a snake."

Jacob winced. "I knew it was a mistake to send Anise, but she is the expert on this. She's not the most diplomatic of beings, I will grant you, but she's passionate. And Freya tempers her. The council thought she'd have the best chance to convince the SGC to help on this."

"Look, we still have no proof that she talked to the colonel at all," Sam said. "I mean, even if she did, his behavior doesn't make any logical sense. He'd still have to come to the SGC in order to gate to the planet."

"Actually, we want to restrict gate travel to the planet as much as possible, so the team would have gated to a nearby planet and then would take a tel'tak the rest of the way. The team would ring down with their equipment, while the tel'tak waited in orbit for confirmation the mission was completed."

"I thought you couldn't penetrate the atmospheric interference?"

"We designed a special base communicator; once on the planet, it will provide a boost to the signal and we should be able to send transmissions between it and the ship. We can use the device to monitor the effects of the virus on the planet and communicate with the surviving members of the strike force. And, since it would be possible for a vaccinated person to carry the virus to other places, we would have to keep a tel'tak in orbit and ensure that no one ever left the planet."

The finality in Jacob's words wasn't lost on Daniel. 'No one' meant the SGC team as well as a pawn of the Goa'uld.

"Damn it, Captain," General Hammond's voice rang through the conference room, loud in the sudden silence. "You need to find him. A man can't just disappear into thin air."

It hit Daniel at that moment. "Damn him." He leapt to his feet and his chair skittered across the floor behind him. He ignored the looks the others at the table gave him, sprinted into General Hammond's office and skidded to a stop in front of the desk. "Ask him if there was any unusual air traffic in the area lately." General Hammond gaped at him, but Daniel pressed his point. "Ask if there were any UFO sightings."

The general's eyes narrowed in sudden comprehension and he turned his attention back to the phone. "Captain, I also want you to check into any suspicious or unusual air traffic."

Once sure Hammond understood what he wanted, Daniel walked back out to the three astonished people who sat in the other room.

"What was that about?" Sam demanded.

"We think that Anise talked to Jack and that he's planning to head off on this suicide mission without letting any of us know. Right?" He didn't wait for them to answer. "How was he going to do that? How could he get off planet without anyone, including General Hammond, knowing? What would we have done if Jack just dialed up a planet and walked through? Or if he disappeared on a mission?"

"We would endeavor to locate him and return him to the SGC," Teal'c said.

"Right."

"And we would send out search party's and rescue teams," Sam continued.

"We might even shut down operations here at SGC until we knew what had happened, right?"

"Such a precaution would be essential until we were aware of what had transpired." Teal'c said.

"And that would disrupt important operations. Put teams on hold. Perhaps even endanger them." Daniel paced around the table.

"Colonel O'Neill wouldn't to that," Sam protested.

"No." Daniel stopped by the window overlooking the gate room. "So how does he get off world without disrupting SGC operations or letting us know that he's going off world?"

"He had the Tok'ra do it," Sam said. "They picked him up in a tel'tak."

"Right." Daniel turned and looked back at his friends. "He's already off world."

Jacob shook his head. "If Anise had planned this, she would have informed me. I helped organize the mission."

"Not if Jack didn't want you to know," Daniel said.

General Hammond stalked into the room. "According to Captain Jameson there were several reports of UFOs around Jack's cabin early last evening but that radar didn't pick up anything unusual. The sightings were dismissed."

"I knew it," Daniel said. "If he was picked up at eight or so last night, that means he's been gone for," he glanced at his watch, "about eighteen hours. How long would it take to get to the planet?"

"If they take a tel'tak, it would take years," Jacob said. "I'm betting that they just flew to a nearby world with a gate. If they kept ship travel to a minimum," he paused, "I'd say ten hours. At the most."

"It's too late to stop him, then," Sam voiced Daniel's thoughts.

"Yes." Jacob said. "I'm sorry."

"We still need to verify this," General Hammond said. "Captain Jameson is working in Minnesota. Jacob, if you could contact Anise and find out what she knows?"

"I'll get right on it, George," Jacob said.

General Hammond sighed and addressed the three remaining members of SG-1. "Until we know anything else, I want you to keep working on it from our end. We're not going to give up here, people, until we know what happened. For all we know, Jack could be on his way home right now."

Teal'c nodded and Sam gave a curt, "Yes, sir."

Daniel turned back to look at the gate. He already knew what happened. Jack was on that planet and he would never come home again.


&&&&&


The staff weapon's opening sparked and raw energy arced around it. Jack smelled burnt ozone and felt the tightening grip of the hands that held him.

"Do not kill him." A cold female voice spoke from the dark opening of the pyramid. "Cronus will want to know what he knows."

The Jaffa lowered his weapon. The hands that held Jack spun him around, pulled off his pack and stripped him of his weapons and gear. The woman in the long black coat stood before him, a slight smile on her face.

"You are the Tau'ri, O'Neill." The voice wasn't a Goa'uld but it could have been for all the arrogance that colored it.

"They got the new pictures up at the Goa'uld post office, huh?" Jack struggled to stand on his own. He frantically tried to determine how much longer it would be before the autotimers went off. "And who might you be?"

"I am Juniel, faithful servant to Lord Cronus. My lord will be pleased that we have you."

"Yeah, well, anything to make old Crony happy." Jack kept the tone light. He needed an out. Twenty minutes. Can't be more than twenty minutes.

"Where is the rest of your team?" she asked. "Are they near?"

"Oh, I'm sure they're somewhere."

"Call for them."

"So not gonna happen."

She smiled and nodded at the Jaffa that stood on the right. Jack braced himself for a blow but the Jaffa kicked him in the knee instead.

Pain engulfed him and white lights danced in front of his eyes. "Oh, God." He gasped for breath and tried to focus. "Son of a . . ." Bile rose in his throat and he sagged against the Jaffa that held him.

"I do not have patience with such impudence," Juniel said. "I will give you one more chance. Call for them."

"Go to hell," Jack forced the words out through gritted teeth.

She nodded again and the Jaffa next to Jack tensed to kick him again. Jack bent his leg and went with the blow. He dropped to the ground and let his good knee absorb the impact. The Jaffa dragged him back to his feet and punched him twice in the side. Jack felt something give and he bit back a cry of pain. Maybe the knee would have been better. A sharp stitch in his side doubled him over when he tried to straighten up. The Jaffa released him and Jack fell flat on the ground. The pain in his side grew to eclipse the familiar ache of his injured knee. As the fire burned under his ribs, an iron-tightness stretched across his chest. He lay in the cool dirt and fought for breath.

"Call for them," Juniel ordered again.

Jack struggled to his knees. It helped to hold an arm tight over his sore ribs as he sucked in each shallow breath. "No." He wasn't sure he spoke loud enough for her to hear.

"You Tau'ri are such a foolish race," Juniel said. "You see your god. He walks before you, yet you deny him. You should be honored to have the opportunity to serve him."

Jack let out a short bark of laughter and grimaced at the pain that stabbed into his chest when he did so. "Crony's just an old snake head. Nothing but an overdressed, egomaniacal, scum—"

Jack hadn't seen either of the Jaffa holding a pain stick, but suddenly he was awash in agony. Pain exploded within him; it filled his every breath, his every cell, his every thought. Trapped between heartbeats and drowning in anguish, he screamed for release and felt the raw power sear through his throat and burn at his eyes. The pain was a living thing that clawed at him and devoured everything he ever was. It lanced through his mind, trailing torture and despair. It ate at his skin and ripped through his bones, a flood of white-hot torment that seared away every memory of safety and peace.

It ended as abruptly as it had begun and his heart beat once more. Somewhere, a great distance away, a voice spoke. "—sucking, glory hound with delusions of grandeur." Jack felt himself talk but couldn't remember what he'd said.

Juniel gave an order in Goa'uld and Jack endured another blast from the pain stick. He rode out the torture. When it ended, he collapsed to the ground, panted for breath and struggled to recall what he was doing there.

"You will do as I want, Tau'ri," Juniel said, "or you will die in pain."

Jack bit back a snide comment and forced himself to concentrate on recovery rather than antagonizing the enemy. The sweat that dripped off his face made little indentations in the dusty ground and his entire body shook with tiny tremors, an all too familiar aftereffect from the pain stick. His breath was raspy and ragged in the still night. Juniel was willing to let him recover some of his strength. Jack used the time to assess his situation.

The blood-red moon shed more than enough light to see how much trouble he was in. His pile of gear — his weapons — sat in a heap well out of his reach. Two Jaffa stood at his side and awaited Juniel's orders. He had no idea how close the other Jaffa were or how many more of Cronus' 'faithful servants' were still around. The safety of the wood's edge was a good hundred yards away, while the middle pyramid stood less than twenty feet from him. If the bombs went off now, he'd be caught in the blast radius. God, how much time was left? His watch was still on his wrist. He rolled to one side and groaned with the movement. The moan, designed to cover the sound as he pulled the Velcro cover off his watch, was only half an act. The digital display blinked three digits at him a split second before the heavy boot of the nearest Jaffa stamped on his wrist.

The cushion of dust on the ground spared him any broken bones, but it hurt like hell. The Jaffa ripped the watch off of Jack's wrist, then walked over to Juniel and handed it to her. Jack curled up into a protective ball and braced for another dose of pain stick that, fortunately, never came.

Juniel examined the watch, turning it over in her hand. "Did you think you could communicate with them without us knowing, Tau'ri fool?" she demanded. "Tell me how this works." She walked several feet closer to Jack and dangled the watch in front of him. "Call them and I will spare you."

The display read 8:48 before it blinked down to 8:47, then 8:46. Almost nine minutes. He could still make it to the gate if he could get away from here. If he couldn't get away . . . nine minutes was an eternity when faced with torture from a pain stick. The Jaffa that had handed Juniel the watch returned to stand next to him. As weak as he was, Jack had no chance of fighting them off, but he wasn't going to give in, either. "Spare me? How 'bout you bite me instead."

Jack doubted she'd ever heard the phrase before, but she must have understood his meaning anyhow.

"You will not defy me," she said. "Get him off the ground."

The Jaffa dragged Jack to his knees, and their hands bit into his arms. The pain of their grip was a tolerable trade off for the ability to stay upright, and he sagged back against their hold willing to get rest anywhere he could. He shifted his weight to ease the ache in his injured knee. Something hard and sharp dug into his leg. It took him a moment to remember that he still had a pistol strapped to his ankle, hidden by his pant leg. A sudden, desperate plan gave him hope. For it to work, though, he'd have to have the Jaffa release him and move away; he needed a clear shot at the three of them. There was only one sure way he could think of to get them to do that.

Juniel took several steps closer to Jack, the watch still held in front of her. The digital readout was 8:04. "I have heard of you, O'Neill of the Tau'ri." The display clicked to eight minutes. "I have heard many things that I know cannot be true." 7:57. "The tales of your arrogance, however, were obviously not overstated." 7:49. She offered him the watch once more. "Call for them, O'Neill of the Tau'ri. Even you cannot believe that you can withstand this." 7:39. She moved closer and crouched down before him, close enough to reach out and touch his face. "You may be strong, O'Neill of the Tau'ri. You are not that strong." 7:23. She ran her hand along his jaw. "No one is that strong." 7:19.

Jack smiled at her. "We'll see." 7:16. This was taking too long. What is she waiting for, an engraved invitation? "I've been tortured by Ra, Apophis and Hathor. What makes you think you can succeed where your so-called-gods have failed?"

Juniel's smile faded. "You are a fool." Her caress turned into a fierce pinch.

"So everyone keeps telling me," Jack said. 6:58. At this rate she was going to talk him to death. "But yet, here I am and they're dead."

Juniel hissed under her breath and jerked her hand from his face. She stood and shouted orders to the Jaffa. Jack didn't understand what she said, but the Jaffa released him. As he sagged to the ground, the Jaffa with the pain stick stepped back and the one on his right moved forward to stand next to Juniel. Jack fought to ignore the panic that rose in his throat at the thought of being hit with the pain stick again. He focused on drawing the pistol that was attached to his leg. Draw the gun and shoot the ba—

He dropped once more into the bottomless chasm of pain as the Jaffa jabbed the stick into his side, but he clung to the image of holding the 9-mm in his hand, the grip solid in his fist and the trigger cool against the heat of his finger. The agony roared around him and he fought for focus, ignoring his screams that echoed in his ears. Draw the gun. Draw the gun. Draw . . .

The nightmarish, burning pain ceased and Jack folded to the ground, his breath erratic. A deep moan escaped his lips as he rolled to his side. On its own volition, his hand moved to the pistol. He fumbled to pull up his pant leg and his weak fingers wrapped around the butt of the gun. There was a wonderful, distinctive sound as the holster released the pistol. His brain fought to remember what he had wanted to do but the familiar weight of the gun triggered the muscles to act before his mind could focus. He pushed himself onto his back and fired two shots into the Jaffa who held the pain stick. Both the Jaffa and weapon fell to the ground. Jack ignored them, rolled to his knees, and took aim at the Jaffa at Juniel's side. Jack's shot knocked the Jaffa off balance and made the blast from his staff weapon explode into the ground between them. Jack shot the Jaffa twice more before he moved the pistol to cover Juniel.

Juniel stared at Jack in open disdain. "You will not kill me, Tau'ri. My god will save me."

Jack's head buzzed and every breath caused a searing pain to burn in his lungs. "No one saved them." He nodded at the dead Jaffa and immediately regretted the action when the world swam in front of him.

"They are but Jaffa, I am a loyal servant of Cronus. I will be his next Lo'taur when I bring him your body."

"Yeah? That's so not gonna happen." He gathered his strength and pushed himself awkwardly to his feet. The movement caused his head to spin and dark spots to flash before his eyes. The pain in his side and the tightness across his chest bit at him again, and the blood roared in his ears. He blinked drunkenly at Juniel. His eyes couldn't focus. She moved, and he fired too late. The bullets split the air where she had been a second before. They hit the pyramid and ricocheted off into the darkness. Jack followed Juniel's movement with his gun. A loud electronic beeping cut into his foggy brain. On the third beep, he recognized it as the alarm on his watch — the timer for the bombs. He snapped off two quick shots at Juniel and she crumpled to the ground just shy of the pyramid door.

There was a distant explosion and the ground shook as the C-4 in the first pyramid detonated. Jack turned and stumbled toward the center of the compound as a second explosion rocked his surroundings. Jack scanned the area and spotted several slabs of stone that lay off to the side. A third roar of C-4 echoed through the clearing as Jack limped over to the improvised shelter. He crawled under the stones and prayed they would provide him with enough protection from the explosions. As he pressed himself into the small hollow under the blocks, he tried to estimate how many seconds had passed. Those first explosions were two bricks of the 'super C-4', set to weaken the support structures of the pyramids and light the incendiary powder. Once the fire reached a high enough temperature, the rest of the explosives would go. He had estimated that he should be a good half-mile from ground zero in order to be well and truly safe. Two hundred yards away, the first pyramid growled deep within and then erupted into a cyclone of flying dust and debris. The shock wave from the explosion ripped by Jack, just as he heard the second pyramid disintegrate into a ball of flying fragments. The stones above Jack shuddered and shifted. The last thing he remembered was thinking that at least no one would have to bury him when the C-4 in the final pyramid detonated and he was plunged into blackness.