What now? Jack thought, taking the written message from the young man.
"Thank you, airman. You're dismissed."
Chapter Two: Who Are You and Why Are You Here?
Once inside Hank's office, Jack opened the message immediately. Please tell me nothing's wrong with the twins, he thought. To his relief, the message seemed completely unrelated to any of his family members. Apparently, Janet had answered a call from a Maureen Cramer requesting an appointment on Jack's next sortie to Washington, actually later this week. The woman must have made quite the impression on Janet to merit a call to the SGC!
Maybe he wasn't reading it right. Who was this lady? Was he supposed to know her? After all, what stranger in their right mind would call him at home at 0700 to arrange a meeting at the Pentagon? Well, it was 1000 hours in Washington. But still, his curiosity was aroused. And how the hell had she gotten his home number?
There was one way to find out. He did have a call back number. But he'd be damned if he'd give this woman special attention after she had the gall to call him at home.
Right now, he was simply relieved things were okay at home. It was 0800. The kids were probably up by now and giving Janet a run for her money. Completely dismissing the message from Maureen Cramer for the moment, Jack picked up the phone to call Doc Frasier, letting her know reinforcements were on the way.
OoOoOo
Maureen Cramer checked her voice mail for the third time this morning. Why doesn't he call back so we can get this over with, she thought. She'd tried to contact him at his Washington office, but got such a run around she'd nearly given up scheduling an appointment with Lieutenant General Jack O'Neill. She was beginning to think she'd need top level security clearance just to meet the man.
Attempting to make an appointment at his Colorado Springs office was even more frustrating. Seems there really wasn't a good reason for a major player in the National Security game to meet with a sports broadcaster.
Maureen was a 30 year old reporter for the Washington Post. Talented and ambitious, she yearned to be the kind of investigative reporter whose stories would include interviews with people like Jack O'Neill. So far, that ambition was still a dream. Her usual beat was the sports desk and she was quite good at it. So good, she moonlighted as a sports anchor at one of the local television stations.
She'd first heard of Jack O'Neill at the company Christmas party. It was there she'd overheard a colleague discussing the non-classified exploits of the newest Washington superstar. Maureen was intrigued by the stories told about the man. Once she'd seen pictures, she was instantly attracted to him and disappointed to hear he was married.
By the time last week's Sunday Post arrived at the home she shared with her mother, she'd forgotten the man existed. But there on the front page of her paper was a lead article focusing on changes at the Pentagon since the 9/11 terrorist attacks. As part of that report, there was mention of changes in the Homeland Security office, complete with the announcement of General O'Neill's move to Colorado Springs. The article sported a glorious and telling picture of the very same gentleman.
The remainder of that Sunday morning had been anything but ordinary for Maureen and her family.
Since that fateful day, Maureen had been obsessed with finding a way to meet the handsome Lt. General who was obviously too busy for her. Finally, she decided to ask for help. A colleague posted to the Pentagon owed her more than a few favors. It was time to call in the markers.
Maureen knew Dan Riley was assigned to interview General O'Neill later that week during one of his monthly trips back to the Pentagon. She arranged to switch assignments with Dan. She knew she was risking her career, but felt she had no choice. This couldn't wait much longer.
Hopefully Jack O' Neill will realize I had no choice, she thought.
OoOoOo
The day and the time finally arrived. It was now or never.
Announced by his secretary, Maureen strode into the General's posh, impressive office as if she owned it. Her confident presentation was nothing like the insecure little girl she felt like inside. Pulling herself up to her full five foot, eight inch height, remembering the effect her flowing red hair and green eyes usually had on men, and determined to accomplish her mission, she walked up to the three star general and held out her hand.
"General O'Neill, I'm Maureen Cramer, sir. I'm here for the Post interview. Thank you for agreeing to see me."
"Ms. Cramer, is it?" O'Neill questioned with a strict military tone. "I've never seen you at the press briefings. However, I have seen you on the sidelines during some of my favorite hockey broadcasts. My wife calls you my 'eye candy'. Excuse me, but it seems strange that the Post would send you for this interview."
Damn it, he had my press credentials rechecked! He knew. Well at least I'm here, Maureen thought.
"General, actually it is a bit strange, my being here that is. I'm afraid I'm here under false pretenses, but I couldn't figure out how to meet you any other way."
"Ms. Cramer. I don't have time for this," Jack said, clearly not interested in explanations. He reached for the phone. "I'm calling the MPs to escort you from the building."
"Wait, please. I'm here, just hear me out. Haven't you ever broken the rules for something really important?"
Jack put down the phone and fixed the gutsy young reporter with his best "doesn't it say General anywhere on my uniform" stare. When he'd tortured Maureen long enough, he cleared his throat, grinned slightly and said, "You've got me there, Ms. Cramer. Okay, you're here and I've got ten minutes. It's all yours. But before we start, who are you, really?"
'I'm your sister, Jack."
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