Irrevocable Decision Part 12

Hand gripped tightly to the handle of the metal dog chain, Sam ploughed through the calf-deep snow, desperately trying to keep up with Oscar who was bounding over the ground before her. Twice now she'd had to halt the dog when she'd stumbled and fallen, dropping the first aid kit from her other frozen hand. But so frantic was she in her desire to be where Mark's dog was taking her, that she barely gave a thought to her scraped knees, soaking jeans and freezing extremities.

Her brain had all the while been playing around with different scenarios. Maybe Oscar had caught a rabbit – but there was blood on his haunches – maybe it was a big rabbit? But the coincidence of a missing Jack O'Neill and her father had her heart racing and her mind in turmoil. She did promise herself, however, that if this was a wild goose chase - and please God it was - when she next met her former CO she would truly give him something to remember her by. And it wouldn't be pleasant!

Peering wildly ahead she screwed her eyes up in an attempt to see further than the blizzard conditions allowed her.

She only spotted the body in the instant Oscar began yelping and struggling to be released, and her relief was acute when she saw slow movement. But who the hell was it?

Heart in her mouth she called out, "Dad?" and on seeing the body jerk, she now knew for sure.

"Colonel!"

"Carter?" His voice sounded distinctly frail and wheezing, but he was still giving orders. "Stay where you are. Don't…come any closer." Though all too obviously weak, the words were clear in the frosted air and she halted, her need to rush to his side temporarily repressed.

"Sir?" Instinct was hard to eliminate.

"Traps – more than – one." He coughed, gasping in pain at the effort needed to speak and now she could see why as she took a step closer.

Eyes flashing wildly, his head jerked up as he spat out, "Dammit, Carter, don't you understand a f-cking order when you hear one... Stand down!"

Accustomed now to the dark light, Sam's eyes widened at his language. She had rarely heard him use expletives and never on her; he really meant business. But having detected the trap and the spreading colour of his life blood which had seeped into the snow like spilt wine on a damask tablecloth, she was in no mood to be the obedient little 2IC.

'Not on your f-cking life!' "Sir, you need--."

"What I need is for you--." His chest was heaving with the effort needed to make her understand the danger.

'Just give me a break here!' "Sorry, sir." She had made up her mind, Jack could hear it in her tone and he closed his eyes willing himself to inject the hard-ass authority of a drill sergeant into his voice. He swore colourfully and told her in full technicolour what he'd do to her if she came any closer.

It was water off a duck's back.

"No man gets left behind – your motto. I'm coming, so shut up, Colonel and conserve your energy."

Even with all the pain he was in, his eyes narrowed menacingly but never moved from her as she carefully tied the dog to a low hanging branch, giving a stern "Stay!" Then turning back to him she cautiously began her approach. And seeing him about to waste even more energy she muttered fiercely, "I can still see Oscar's tracks faintly – I'll be fine, just stay quiet and try not to move." She had spotted the other trap with the branch Jack had put into it standing up like a petrified limb.

It seemed to Sam that hours passed before she was kneeling next to the injured man and taking a close look at his trapped leg.

'Shit, it looks bad!' She was appalled by the amount of blood yet, as if reading her mind, Jack muttered, "It's not as bad as it looks, Carter. The freezing conditions have stopped the blood flow."

Yanking off her gloves, she turned her attention from Jack's white face and with the utmost care put her hands on the trap. She didn't think it was possible for him to turn any whiter but he did, flinching and sucking in a strangled breath as he desperately locked his jaw to keep in the pain.

"Where's Dad?" 'I could really do with his help right now.' And seeing his confusion, she explained, "He was going to get a lift back with you."

Jack just shook his head and Sam understood that she was very much on her own with this dilemma.

Suppressing every feeling of compassion, her one focus was to free her CO before he bled to death. Removing her pants' belt she looped it just above his knee then throwing him a contrite expression she pulled tightly, ignoring the gasp of pain, and fastened it. She now turned to the actual trap her gaze both fearful and determined.

"Sir, I'm going to try pulling this apart but I'm going to need your help."

The arm thrown over his face lowered and pain-filled eyes met her own, unwavering in their trust of her capabilities. The breath caught in her throat – it had been too long since she had seen that look and her resolve grew stronger. No way was she going to fail him.

"Got…nothing…better…to…do!" he wheezed.

That O'Neill sense of humour – she grinned despite their predicament.

"On three, colonel." With no energy to speak he simply nodded, his teeth biting hard into his lower lip. "One. Two. Three!"

She pulled while he turned his head, grinding it into the snow, both hands clutching theice as he moaned through gritted teeth. "God, god, god!"

She felt as if her fingers were being pulled from their own sockets and when she was able to lock her elbow, she could feel the wracking tremors as her muscles threatened to collapse. Aware that Jack's cries had intensified she had to ignore the pleading as he begged her to stop. One last excrutiating effort - finally, she was able to thrust in the thick branch she'd already set aside to take the brunt of the steel claws before they could snap back onto the injured leg.

The bleeding had already begun anew and she understood, without a doubt, that she was going to have to stem the flow before she could even think about moving him. As she spared a second to check his vitals, she murmured a prayer of thanks as she realized his head had fallen back, his eyeshad closed and he had mercifully lost consciousness.

Now Sam was able to rip the bottom of Jack's jeans to the knee, carefully removing his boot and sock. Even unconscious he moaned from the pain. Deep, ugly punctures oozing blood encircled his calf which was already inflamed and swollen.

She grimaced. 'Don't think, just clean it,' she ordered herself ruthlessly, and tore open antiseptic wipes from the first aid box, cleaning the wounds as much as she dare, all the while aware that the grey haired man was freezing to her touch. Having applied compresses around the leg she hastily bandaged the wounds.

Sitting back on her haunches she surveyed her work critically – it would have to do for now. She was fairly confident his leg wasn't broken but the damage was significant and he needed specialist care a.s.a.p.

Having already bemoaned the fact that she'd left her cell phone in her car, her disgust was magnified when she thought of the journey back to the cabin. She'd toyed with the idea of racing back and calling for help but rejected that plan when she'd realized how close to hypothermia Jack was. She shook her head and took a deep breath. There was only one option and if she wanted her CO to live in order that she could kick his butt then she needed to get him up and moving.

Her voice had no effect on him so she tried gently rubbing his frozen hands. In the end she had to resort to moderate open-handed slaps on his alabaster cheeks. Not the perfect scenario, but it worked. He came up fighting – or squirming.

"Wha' the hell!" He struggled to push her hand away, swearing.

"Sorry, Colonel. I couldn't wake you."

"'s okay." His voice was slow and slurred, a clear warning for Sam.

"We've got to get you out of here." She could tell she was losing him. "Colonel!" Gently, she shook his shoulder. "Stay with me."

He was ashen, his eyes now screwed tightly shut as he tried to ride the waves of pain shooting up his leg and spiking into his brain.

"Get…Jacob," he groaned softly.

"I think he's still at the dance."

'Dance?' Jack found it impossible to concentrate. Was that still part of this night? It seemed a life time since he'd been there, watched her with Morgan, unable to contain his jealousy, so that he'd forced her to dance in his arms knowing full wellthat the memories would return later, unbidden, to torment him. He moaned softly now though Sam thought it was from the pain. The moans turned to wet hacking coughs which alarmedher almost as much as the injury. She knew she couldn't allow herself to soften, it was imperative she got him back to the cabin.

(Go to Chapter 13)