Deliberate Speed

Thanks for the reviews, everyone. The feedback has kept me on track. For those who asked about Sam's bike, read on. If you haven't put your two cents down yet, come on!

2. Devil on Wheels

The waxing quarter moon had just breached its zenith when Sam rolled out of her house for the second time tonight, walking her motorcycle. The neighborhood was quiet at this hour. Helmet on, full riding-leather out-fitted with gloves and boots. Gas tank full. Sam swung one long leg over the bike, took one last look at the lamp-lit streets ahead, and revved the accelerator. Like a startled beast, the bike's engine roared to life, and she was off. All any peepers saw was a lone biker doing a wheelie as he sped out of sight.

That's more like it, Sam thought. She felt free, energized. The streets were a blur as she leaned into the handlebars and ate up the distance. She'll worry about the consequences of sneaking off-base later. This time out, she hit the freeway, and it was all hers. "Houston, we have ignition! Whoo-hoo!" Sam laughed, and switched gears. Sam and the bike flew, as effortlessly as any hyper drive engine could. "To hell with hyper drive!" She released her hands from the handles and flung them up, controlling her bike only by inertia and the iron grip of her thighs. She grabbed them as the road twisted, leaning over and taking the long curve with ease and grace without braking.

Ahead of her a truck lumbered; another was coming toward her on the other side of the road. "Oh, yeah," Sam said, the calculations spinning in her head. The two trucks drew closer. Sam waited.

Then she gunned into high gear, accelerating. The oncoming truck blew its horn and flashed its headlights. Sam sped up. The two trucks drew closer, nearly head to head.

"Take me home, love," Sam whispered, and spurted forward, riding the double yellow line.

Bike and rider slid through the narrowing gap with bare inches to spare. She swung into the headlights in front of the first truck. The two harried drivers honked in outrage and leaned out their windows to hurl curses.

"That all you got!" Sam called back, riding again up on the rear wheel until the truck behind her honked and had to slow or hit her. Sam waved as she dropped back on two wheels and sped off. She saw his reflection in the side mirror; he was speaking into a phone. Sam wagged a finger at the harried trucker as she sped out of sight.

Sam laughed. She would have taken her beloved Indian out, but she preferred that for cruising. And it was still with Siler, who kept it when she was off-world. Now she intended to burn wheels, and the Harley was perfect (and more replaceable!) than her classic. Energy coursed through her as if the bike's engines were connected to her veins, firing her senses. If it was really nervous energy culled from lack of sleep, well, she wouldn't quibble.

She itched to remove her helmet and feel that rush of air, but safety sense prevailed. The doc probably knew she had skipped by now. It felt so good to be out, to be going away. Away to anywhere or nowhere. Nothing around her but open road and open sky. And blessed, blessed quiet.

No voices in her head. No visions, no images. No fears. Not this time, not now.

"I'M HERE!" Sam laughed as she flung her legs out from the bike. Nothing was beyond her now.

-----

"I know, George. We're on it," Jack said into the phone, and finally hung up. He looked up at Major Walter Harriman standing in the doorway. Jack waved him off. "C'mon, Carter. Where the hell are you?" Jack said to the empty office. He'd been here since the report came in, around zero one hundred. It was zero three hundred now.

Jack spotted Teal'c and Daniel as they jogged up the stairs. Their silence told him they'd been unsuccessful at Sam's house. Daniel closed the door behind them.

"Major Carter's motorcycle is missing, O'Neill. She may be very far from here by now," Teal'c said. Jack rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture of helplessness.

"She probably intends to return. Well, eventually, anyway," Daniel added. He glanced at Teal'c. "She's not herself, Jack. Sam's been through a lot; probably just wanted to clear her head."

"And put it, and mine, in a noose. I got a call from General Hammond, Daniel. He freaked when I told him Carter disappeared. That means Sam's out there unprotected, and not in her right mind. Did I say, not in her right mind?" Jack repeated. Damn, but he was tired. He'd finally gotten to bed before midnight, then been awakened to the worst news since hearing Carter was presumed dead when the Asgard blew up Fifth's ship. "Well, I called in a favor with local law enforcement. If she's spotted, we'll get a head's up," Jack said after a long breath, and headed out. Daniel and Teal'c trudged silently after.

Carter, Sam: what are you doing? Jack thought. The transition period was far from completed; the official ceremony was only four days from now. Fortunately, Dr. Weir was off base handling preparations for her new assignment. Sam had no idea what was at stake; but, even so, it wouldn't bode well for him or her if matters had to change. The paperwork he would have to tackle. Oi. "Anyone for coffee?"

-----

Sam downed the rest of the plain donut, then took a sip of coffee. She'd finished refilling the tank. As the warm liquid slid down her throat, she felt the restlessness rising again. The lights, and the cars and people pulling in and out of the service station, began to rattle her. Of course, Sam admitted to herself, she'd rattled a number of drivers tonight and was beginning to regret it. Being a bad girl wasn't completely a kick if you were usually a good girl, she mused. Then she huffed a little angrily. Maybe Fifth had it right; being the good one just isn't worth the emotional baggage -

Oh, boy. She blinked away that crazy thought. She was standing still too long, thinking too long.

She needed to move. Disposing of the trash, she donned her helmet again just as two highway patrol cars pulled in. Continuing her preparations, Sam kept an eye on them. They circled the pump island just as she mounted her bike. Her heart rate sped up. She smiled in anticipation.

"Hey, there, biker. Hold on. HEY!" an officer called to her, only to see her gun her bike and speed off. "The hard-ass way, of course. Found him, guys. Alert," the officer radioed. The patrol cars put on their sirens and took off after the biker. "Damn, he's fast."

"Gotta ride, ride like the wind to be free!" Sam sang as she peered into the rearview mirror at her pursuers. She knew this was incredibly unwise; that Gen. O'Neill would have her head for this. She ignored the inner warning. She wasn't going to be the "good" one tonight.

There was still night and open space and she wasn't ready to give it up.

Sam eased her speed up another notch as the following cars drew closer, although not close enough. Her tactical senses kicked in; there would be others down the way, maybe in a roadblock. She knew this area pretty well; there was a turnoff before the next big exit. If she took that, she could skirt them and double back on a utility road.

Sam spotted the roadblock just past the turnoff she had considered. Oh, yeah, they knew she knew about it, too, and wanted to herd her into a trap. Not today, fellas, she grinned behind her helmet. She headed straight for the barricade, laughing in complete abandon.

"Geez, what is this guy on?" One of the officers in the pursuit cars radioed. "Biker didn't take the turnoff. Roadblock, he's coming at you hard!"

Sam studied the layout: Three patrol cars, two flanking the highway, one placed to block beyond them. Ah, but there were ramps. The calculations continued right up until she made her move.

"Biker, pull over and dismount!" a voice over an amplified mike ordered. Facing her, the police fanned out across the road. So far, no firearms were drawn. "Biker! This is your last warning: dismount and stand with your hands up!"

"Like this?" Sam said, holding her arms out. The bike remained steady on at first, then swerved left. The officers dived out of her path. The bike swerved right. More officers got out of her way.

Then she was on the entrance ramp, where a long row of cars were backed up, waiting for clearance.

"Whoo-hoo!" Sam laughed as she grabbed the handlebars and eased down between the waiting cars and paved edge. Behind her, the police scrambled back to their cars. As they did, Sam swung around and headed back up the other side of the ramp. And as the cars turned to pursue her by using the exit ramp, Sam waved as she zipped past them and continued down the highway. Sam wouldn't think of how reckless she was; she didn't care, not when she was in control. This moment, it felt right. Later it wouldn't. But she wasn't there yet.

Her elation lasted a few minutes. A familiar sound invaded her ears: motorcycles? She looked behind her, and two highway patrol cycles were gaining on her. At last, the real cavalry! "Go for it, guys!" Sam called back, and hit the accelerator again. They receded in her mirror. They didn't have her off world tech-rigged engine, and Siler's input. She grinned. "Catch me if you can!" The one thing she couldn't make this jewel do was fly. Not yet, anyway!

The scenery began to change as the sky lightened toward dawn. Houses began to poke out of dusky dark; mist was forming as the air warmed. Sam noted these things, but concentrated on eluding her pursuers.

She could not elude Fifth and his images. Images of people she loved, of their horrible demises. She could not evade the face of herself as his pitiful, broken victim. Of her face as the perpetrator of twisted, violent acts. She could not run; she could not resist; she could not win.

"Oh, just watch me now!" Sam said, tears momentarily blurring her vision. She shook her head to clear it. If she stayed on this course it would take her out of the city. Her best bet was to shake the bogies and head back to the base. The sound of engines brought her attention back to her pursuers. Sam made her decision and sped on, two patrol bikers on her tail. Just another few hundred feet ahead, Sam found what she needed.

Sam did a swift left across the lanes, and slid down an exit ramp. As she did, she cut her engine and lights, letting the incline pull her down. She eased left again down a quiet neighborhood street and found an alley between two houses. Heart still racing, Sam let the bike idle. . The sound of the bikes began to recede. Grinning, she walked the bike to the end of the alley. Just empty streets, except for wisps of fog hugging the buildings and ground. She waited.

Sam shook her head. A wave of fatigue nearly felled her. She sagged forward against the handlebars before catching herself. Damn, this was not the time to nap! Sam knew the patrol bikers were still out there; they weren't stupid. She had bought herself a brief head start, that was all. Listening, Sam moved her bike into the street. A distant thrum of engines could be heard, in the opposite direction from the one she wanted.

Ok, this was it. She'd dodged asteroids in a do or die space race, destroyed a sun, and ridden an asteroid through earth, for cryin' out loud! Evading a couple of earthbound cops should be far less trouble. She chose to ignore the practical voice warning her against playing pursuit games, especially with the Colorado Springs police. She chose to follow the voice that promised this was a challenge she could not back away from.

"Engaging sub-light engines," Sam whispered, and giggled as she eased the engine on. It barely broke the silence as it hummed to life. "Easy." Mounted again, Sam steered quietly to the end of the block, halting for the red signal. "Oh, come on!" She chided herself, and rode through it. The next corner would be the turn she needed to head back to the highway, but she ignored it. Best to see where they were still buzzing the entrance and exit ramps. Could be Sam would have a long way home via the city streets. "Ok, let's use aft thrusters..."

The patrol caught her in their nightlights at the next intersection. Sam spared barely a glance as she roared forward in instant reaction.

"Damn it, give it up, biker! Last warning!" The voice of one of the pursuers crackled over a microphone. They were just half a block behind her, using a bit more cautious speed than Sam.

"Ever see a full burn? Watch me!" Sam laughed as she turned the throttle and spurted further away. "Ok, always a plan B," Sam murmured, assessing her surroundings and the closing distance between her and the patrol. Her goal was just ahead, but she needed to shake the bogies somehow. As the street curved, she noted the change in the road's surface. Sam smiled. Ok, it was worth a try. She let the bike slow so the patrol could catch up. Then she did a ninety left.

"Christ!" One of the patrol bikers yelled as dirt mixed with gravel sprayed him square in the faceplate. The patroller swerved and flew off the bike, sending it skidding away. The second rider veered off.

She meant to hit them both, but good enough! Sam maneuvered around again, but lost precious seconds as her wheels lost traction on the graveled surface. She had expected that and struggled to compensate. She managed to straighten out just as the second biker roared up.

"That's ENOUGH!" The other biker yelled. Coming nearly alongside, the rider daringly reached over, grabbed Sam's jacket from behind and yanked her firmly. At the same time, he slammed on the breaks. Sam kicked free as she was unseated and flew over dirt and grass; her bike slid ahead of them. Sam felt the air forced out of her lungs as she came down on her back. Plan B always seemed to work for Jack, she thought, her senses reeling until she was enveloped in darkness.

TBC

Love to know what you think, talk back, please? And thanks for reading.

A/N: Apologies to seasoned motorcycle riders and Colorado Springs: I've never ridden a motorcycle or been to CS, just did some research for the story. And I know Colorado Springs does not play when it comes to road safety. So please, excuse any glaring impossibilities made in my enthusiasm for the story! - 7LB