Chapter 7: Tension Wrench
Hammond was summoned back to Washington again because Alexander Koranov had phoned the president. Or maybe he didn't literally call the president, but he contacted him somehow and that was enough to cause stirrings around the country. Everyone had been laboring under the false hope that maybe Koranov had given up on his schemes and would settle down; but this turned out to not be the case.
Hammond returned to the SGC late one Thursday night looking tired and upset. The balding general sat at the head of the briefing room table, regarding his front line team thoughtfully.
SG-1 all had their noses stuck in an issue of TIME magazine which had a photo of Sam and Jack on the cover along with some headline about intergalactic heroes. Hammond cleared his throat and they all looked up.
"I've got rather grave news, people," Hammond said with a sigh.
Jack set the magazine down. "What is it, sir?"
"Koranov isn't happy. Actually I think that's quite an understatement; he's damn well pissed off." Hammond glanced momentarily up at the ceiling. "He thinks that our little charade as he put it was just a stall; he's going ahead with his threat."
"You mean he's actually…" Jack mimed a bomb flying and then hitting the ground and exploding.
Hammond nodded. "Our intelligence tells us that Russia's preparing for a full our nuclear attack. Sadly there's not much we can do about it except retaliate in what'll become an all out nuclear war."
"Holy Hannah…" Sam muttered, earning an odd look from her CO. "What about a preemptive strike? Attacking their missile sites?"
"I'm afraid that wouldn't do much good in the long run, Major," Hammond said. "We've only been able to locate about two of the sites. We attack those and Koranov will most definitely move to strike without warning."
Daniel heaved a sigh, looking down at the magazine in his hands, at Sam and Jack's photos, at the headline. "None of this matters anymore."
"Of course it matters!" Jack cried suddenly. "Come on, kids, chins up! We'll get through this. We're not going to let this wannabe Stalin destroy our beautiful planet. Someday we'll be sitting with our grandkids and telling them how we never gave up hope no matter how dark things got."
"Thank you for the pep-talk, Jack," Hammond said, allowing a faint smile to cross his face momentarily. "But I'm afraid there isn't much reason to hope left. As of 1300 hours yesterday the country's officially at DEFCON 3."
"Jesus fucking Christ…" Daniel said under his breath, though loud enough for the others at the table to hear. Under their shocked gazes he quietly excused himself and hurried out of the room before Hammond could object.
"Did Danny-boy just drop an f-bomb?" Jack asked, turning to Sam who nodded. The colonel shook his head in disbelief. "Damn. The world really is coming to an end."
The next day the Secretary of Defense himself came to the SGC to discuss evacuation plans with Hammond. Lists would be drawn up of people to be evacuated first and it was decided that after they went through, the SGC would just start grabbing anyone nearby. The Prometheus would be flying around the globe and beaming as many people off the planet as possible, and they'd already contacted the Asgard who'd been more than happy to lend their ships to get people to safety.
"How do we decide who lives and dies?" Sam asked one day as she and the rest of the team helped prep emergency supplies to be taken to the evacuation sites. "I mean, can we honestly say one person is more worthy of being saved than another?"
"The president will be one of the first people evacuated," Daniel said, stacking crates onto a flatbed cart. "But when it comes down to it, does he deserve to be evacuated more than say the teenage girl who's going to be a scientist when she grows up? You know, it's the teenager's we'll need in the end. The people who'll be young enough to reproduce."
"Which is why everyone on the lists are allowed to bring their families with them." Jack pointed out.
"There still is no fair way to say who gets evacuated and who doesn't!" Sam complained.
Jack stopped what he was doing to look at Sam with an almost saddened expression. "You're right, Carter, there isn't. No one ever said there was."
Sam looked up when she heard her name over the intercom.
"Major Carter to the briefing room. Major Carter to the briefing room."
Shooting her friends an apologetic look Sam turned and hurried up to the briefing room. Hammond was in his office with a couple of officials, but waiting for her at the table was none other than Dryden, who turned and smiled when she entered.
Hours later they sat at a table in a semi-formal restaurant, tucked away in a corner where Sam wouldn't attract too many stares.
"This is all so…I don't even know how to say it." Dryden said miserably as he pushed the last crumbs of food around on his plate. He looked up at Sam, his dark brown eyes wide. "What if this is the last time I ever eat in a restaurant?"
"You can't think like that," Sam told him. "You'll go crazy. We have to hold on…hold on to whatever it is we have left."
Dryden reached out to take hold of her hand where it rested on the table. "Every day I see your face in the newspapers and magazines."
"They call me a hero…" Sam said, giving his fingers a gentle squeeze and slowly shaking her head. "But…here's something I can't save us from."
"You don't have to," Dryden murmured, leaning in closer. "Samantha…those stories can't even begin to capture the real you…The people who see your picture it reassures them that someone is out there fighting for us…even if it's not you. You've become a beacon of hope."
"Dryden…"
"And if you could only know how much hope you'd given me…" He was squeezing her hand almost painfully tight, and as though he'd suddenly realized this he released her hand.
They paid for the meal in silence, then Dryden helped Sam into her coat and they went out to the car. Both of them stood there for a moment, not wanting to get in, not wanting this night to end because they knew it very well could be the last of it's kind.
"Sam…come here…" Dryden stepped over to her, putting his arms around her and holding her close. Sam buried her face in his shoulder, wishing vainly that when she opened her eyes and stepped back this would all be over. "I never …" Dryden said softly. "Never imagined that I could fall so deeply in love…but I have. I love you Sam…I only wish it wasn't in such dark times."
Something caught in Sam's throat and she felt a tremor run through her. When she stepped back and looked up at Dryden tears glistened on her cheeks. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.
"What for?" Dryden tenderly brushed her tears away with his thumb.
"Lots of things." Sam laughed at her own tears and hurriedly wiped them on her sleeve before getting into the car.
When Dryden started the car and began pulling out of the parking lot Sam suddenly felt a strange sense of hopelessness wash over her. Like she was disconnected completely from a world that was coming to a fast and violent end. The feeling frightened her. As though to get a better grip on reality she reached out and put her hand on Dryden's leg.
His expression didn't change, but he grasped her hand with his. The feeling of his skin beneath her fingers reassured Sam that there was still life out there. And where there was life, there was hope.
They pulled up outside of her house and Dryden shut off the engine, but Sam didn't get out of the car. She realized she was still holding tightly to his hand. They turned to look at each other.
Dryden leaned in and Sam found herself doing the same, though at the last moment she turned her head ever so slightly and his lips lightly pressed to her cheek. He didn't seem to mind, but looked surprised when tears formed in her eyes again.
"I can't do this…" Sam choked out.
Dryden's hand reassuringly squeezed hers. "I'm here for you."
Sam looked up and gave him a grateful smile through her tears.
It was those same tears that Dryden tasted minutes later as the bedroom door closed behind them and his lips traced the contours of Sam's face in the dark. But suddenly her hands were on his shoulders, slender fingers applying a light pressure to his bare skin.
"Wait…" she said breathily. "I don't want…"
His hands slid down her muscular arms. "Sam, whatever you want. I won't force you."
"I just need," but Sam stopped herself, biting her lip. What did she need? Was it Dryden? Looking into his chocolate brown eyes she could see someone else lurking there and it wasn't fair to Dryden if she would just always see someone else's face instead of his. But his hands on her arms were so comforting, so reassuring. "I just need someone to…" Sam leaned forward, resting her head against his collarbone and wrapping her arms around him.
"Okay…" Dryden sat down on the bed, leaning against the pillows and holding Sam to him, one hand smoothing down her hair.
Sam couldn't tell what they did all night. Some kissing, some crying, some holding each other, some talking. Worry hung thicker about them than the comforter that Sam eventually had to pull around them. Whatever happened, however, they both awoke the next morning feeling slightly more assured that it was possible to still hope.
It was like the hours before a storm. When the world goes still and you can see the dark clouds rolling in and all the birds have roosted. Only the world wasn't still. At least not Sam's world.
There were preparations to be made. Public announcements to be heard. People were told to pack bags; their most precious belongings. To put them in their cars and be ready when the time came to get to the Stargate and leave.
Morale had reached an all time low.
Jacob was ready to take Sam, Mark, Carol and the kids off-world if Hammond would let him, but the general was resistant. There were rules that the location of the Stargate was not to be disclosed until the eve of Apocalypse, as Daniel so bluntly put it.
Asgard ships hung in orbit day and night now. They were doing their best to help keep an eye on Russia, but Koranov was good. His people had dealt with alien technology and had become adapt at hiding from it.
All around the globe in cities and towns special 'deportation sites' were set up where people were told to go when and if (though each day it was becoming more and more of an issue of 'when') the missiles were fired. These would be the target sites for the ships to beam people from.
"Right now I think the best thing we can all do is just relax, for one day at least." Jack said, passing beers out from the cooler.
The team was sitting on the pier behind his cabin. Teal'c had a fishing rod in hand and Sam and Daniel were playing cards.
"Don't tell us to forget about it, Jack," Daniel murmured. "It's too late for that."
"I wasn't," Jack said, pulling up a lawn chair and sitting down. "I was saying relax. As in physically." He leaned back. "So you know in school how they'd always give you those essay prompts about how if the world was going to end what you'd want to do? Well…here it is. The worlds going to end. Whatcha going to do?"
"I would wish only to spend more time with those whom I care about," Teal'c said, looking around at them all. "Which I am doing."
"I agree with Teal'c," Daniel said. "But…other than that I don't really know. There's so much I'd like to do, so many people I'd still like to talk to."
"Yeah." Jack said huskily. He turned to Sam, but she had such a far off look in her eyes that he decided not to bother.
The day passed too quickly for anyone's taste. They managed a few laughs, forced as they were, and Jack had fun with what he deemed the pre-apocalyptic barbeque. Night fell and they lay on their backs looking at the stars. Sam waned to ingrain this view into her memory, complete with the comfortable feeling of companionship coming from the three men around her.
Daniel and Teal'c finally got into Daniel's car and headed back home.
"You never answered my question," Jack said as he saw Sam to her car. "About what you still want to do."
"You really want an answer?" Sam turned to look at him, her jacket flung over one shoulder and her car keys in her hand. In the moon light her hair seemed to shine silver.
Jack nodded, his expression softening as he looked down at her. Sam took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. Any fear or doubt she'd ever held seemed to have died in the past couple weeks and without any hesitation she leaned forward and kissed Jack softly, her lips chastely pressing to his and remaining that way for a split second before she stepped back.
Neither said anything, but the secretive smile that they exchanged before Sam left was enough.