Chapter 11 – The Blind

Jack walked into the general's office ready to growl only to find that Hammond was speaking angrily into the phone. "This is not a minor matter, sir. Dr. Jackson is of vital importance to this command." He seemed to be listening for a moment, then said, "I know we're not trained for investigation, but if you put people on the search who don't have clearance to view all the material that might be relevant, you'll be handicapping them."

Jack glanced at Carter and Teal'c who had come in with him. Sumner and Meyers, though uninvited, had tagged along. Feretti's team were down in the showers still. Carter's face reflected the astonishment he knew he had to be exhibiting. Teal'c merely had one eyebrow raised, but Sumner looked livid.

"Yes, sir, I know it's your job to see to things of this nature, but –" Another pause while Hammond tapped the table, looking irritated. "Very well, we'll play it your way for now, but if I don't see results soon, I'm going higher." With that he hung up the phone and looked up at them all. "Please come in and shut the door."

"What was that?" Jack asked.

"That was the director of the CIA. Between them, the CIA, the FBI and the NID are supposed to be managing this investigation." Jack teeth ground at the mention of the NID. "Unfortunately, only a fraction of people in any of those bureaus has the correct clearance to know what we do here, and they haven't put those people on this investigation. It isn't important enough, Director Archer says."

"It isn't important enough?" Jack repeated. "I could go down there and explain to him just how very important it is."

"If we don't have any news in a week, I will –"

"A week!" exclaimed Carter.

"This is Daniel we're talking about!" Jack said. "Who knows what could happen in a week! People either adore Daniel or he annoys them so much that they want to beat him to death. We don't even know for sure who took him or why."

"Well, at the moment, the CIA is provisionally convinced that it has very little to do with the stargate program."

"Why else would someone seize DanielJackson?" asked Teal'c. "Is he important in some way that I am unaware of?"

"That would be the problem, Teal'c," Hammond said, his lips pursed unhappily. "I can't think of a reason. He doesn't have any enemies – on this planet – that I know of, he's not rich, he's not important politically . . . hell, he was gone for sixteen months and no one seemed to have noticed except the IRS."

"So what are we going to do?" Jack asked.

"There's nothing we can do," Hammond replied. "Our hands are tied. Legally, the US military can't take action inside the United States."

"Military intelligence?" Jack asked.

"That's the last thing we need," Sumner burst out. "As if the FBI, CIA and the NID aren't going to get in each other's way enough as it is!"

"Sir, there's got to be something we can do," Carter said plaintively.

"Not about this, I'm afraid. I'll keep you all posted. In the meantime, you had all better get back to work."

Jack headed down to his office and the petty administrative tasks that he had waiting for him. Annoying people doing stupid things that military regulations required they be punished for.

Daniel was still out there. And the general expected him to sit on his hands and wait.

The drive was long and uneventful. No one talked much, though Daniel tried several times to get a conversation going. Mike leaned his head against the side of the van, eyes closed, and Kevin seemed to be listening to some kind of music in his head. Stuart just ignored him. Makepeace responded to his questions minimally, but since Daniel was asking more about where they were going and what was going to happen, he finally said, "Just wait till we get there, Jackson. I know you're curious, but you have to wait."

Daniel finally gave up and just rested his head in his hands. Eventually, after what seemed like hours, they got somewhere. Daniel looked up and thought of two questions he hadn't asked yet. "What day is it?" he asked.

"The tenth of May," Makepeace said. Then he glanced at his wrist. "And it's five after eleven."

"Thanks." Daniel took in a deep breath. The van was moving slowly, but he didn't hear traffic sounds around them. "Are we there?"

"We are," Stuart said. "But you'll have to wait till we get inside to go to the bathroom."

Daniel blinked and then turned an irritated look on the other man. "Sure thing, pops," he said sarcastically.

Makepeace and Kevin both snorted, and Mike said, "I think you might want to avoid baiting this one, Stu. He's smarter than you are."

Stuart turned an astringent glare on Mike. "Then how is it that we were pulling his fat out of the fire."

"Now, this time wasn't his fault, you have to admit that," Makepeace said.

Daniel turned to look at him, brows rising. "This time?" he repeated. "Are you suggesting that the other times have been my fault?"

"Well . . ."

Daniel's eyebrows rose still farther. "And just how much classified material are you going to discuss in front of these uncleared individuals?" He paused, shaking his head. "Or no, I suppose you've probably spilled it all already."

"I haven't spilled anything," Makepeace said defensively. "They already knew it."

Keven nodded. "Oh yeah, I've been reading your reports since day one, Dr. Jackson. Very impressive."

Daniel favored him with a long, cool look, then turned back to Makepeace. "You know, they still execute people for treason," he said conversationally. Makepeace lips compressed and he looked away.

"They have to catch you first," Stuart said. "And I don't consider what we're doing to be treason. We are trying to safeguard this nation, this planet, against a highly aggressive, utterly immoral enemy."

Daniel rolled his eyes and shut his mouth. There was no point in arguing with fanatics. They knew what they believed, so telling them the truth only got you stoned. Or ignored. The van rolled to a stop and the rear doors opened. Kevin and Mike got out, then Daniel levered himself up and followed them. Kevin offered him a hand, and, despite a desire to ignore him and jump down on his own, Daniel decided that the dignity inherent in the refusal would be spoiled by the falling over and moaning in pain that would follow such a jolt to his back.

An older man with closely cropped white hair stood waiting. As soon as they were all on the floor, he began barking orders. "Makepeace, accompany Dr. Jackson to the infirmary. Parker, Little, Stevens and Moore, report for debriefing."

Daniel looked up at Makepeace who gestured towards a door. "So, is everybody here military?" he asked.

"Nearly."

"Ah. Goody. I so love the military mindset."

"You'll be okay, Jackson. Everyone here knows how important you are to the war effort."

"Right." Daniel sighed. That they thought him important didn't mean they wouldn't try to fit him into some kind of mold of their own.

The doctor was a man this time, and very brusque. "Strip," he said. "Makepeace, you can wait outside. I think we can handle one injured archeologist." The 'we' appeared to encompass a competent looking woman of about Jack's age. Makepeace handed over the two pill bottles and left.

Reluctantly, Daniel began removing his clothing. The pants were easy, but the shirt was a bit harder. They had to help him with it. When he was clad only in his boxers, they got him to sit on a table. "Okay," Daniel said. "Now that I'm wearing next to nothing, would you mind telling me your names? It is customary, I believe, for a patient to at least know his physician's name."

"I am Dr. Burney, this is Dr. Hill," said the male doctor.

From behind him, Dr. Hill said, "Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Jackson. Celia wasn't kidding, Tom, this is a mess."

Burney walked around to join her and whistled. Daniel grimaced. "So, have you got a mirror? I still haven't seen it."

"I'm really not sure you want to," Burney said.

"Is it going to scar?" Daniel asked.

"That's hard to say, but there's a bit of an infection starting," Hill said. "We'll do our best to avoid it."

Burney came back around to Daniel's front and picked up a clipboard. "All right, Dr. Jackson, can you please tell us what happened? We need to have an idea so that we can be prepared for future repercussions."

"Or you could just arrange for me to be sent back to the SGC where Dr. Fraiser can take care of me," Daniel said.

Burney shook his head. "I am currently your physician, so I need to know what's happened to you."

"Good luck finding out," Daniel replied with a shrug. Then he blinked at the pain he'd caused himself.

Hill spoke from behind him. "By not telling us what's happened to you, you're only hindering our care. It's not wise."

"Well, it's my choice," he said with a tight grin. "And I choose not to tell you. I'll talk to my doctor and no one else. I don't know you, and I don't trust you. I would say that trust is a key point in any doctor patient relationship, wouldn't you?"

"Dr. Jackson . . ."

"Yes, Dr. Burney?"

"We have all of your medical records up to the point you went through the gate on that last mission. I just need to know what –"

"See, now there's a major problem with trust. I didn't authorize you to have my records, so what are you doing with them?"

"Dr. Jackson, you're only hurting yourself with this." Daniel looked away, irritated beyond words. He wanted to see Janet. "Get Makepeace in here, Megan," Burney said.

A moment later Makepeace walked in and said, "What are you doing, Daniel?" He sounded utterly exasperated.

"I'm not doing anything."

"Then why did they bring me in here?"

Daniel opened his mouth to reply, but Burney beat him to it. "He won't tell us what happened."

Makepeace sighed. "Do you remember that thing we talked about in the van?" Daniel looked up, puzzled. "Survival is your first job. Not telling your doctors what's wrong with you isn't going to gain you anything, and it could hurt you."

Daniel looked down at his hands and sighed, recognizing the truth in that. "There's a burn on my left thigh from an energy blast," he said carefully.

"Staff weapon?" Burney asked. Daniel pursed his lips.

"That's what Maybourne reported," Makepeace said. "We're still working to get the medical files from the Russians."

"Do you really trust Maybourne, though?"

"About as far as I can throw him, but he didn't have any reason to lie about this."

While they discussed Maybourne, Dr. Hill walked up with a blood pressure cuff. "I'm afraid this will probably hurt on those bruises."

"I'll live."

Burney cleared his throat. "Go on, Dr. Jackson."

Daniel returned his attention to him. "Well, the people, Metzov's people, tied me up and took me out to that house where I was found. I received no medical care for the burn after that, by the way. Lizaveta grabbed it at one point, but I don't think she did any damage." Burney was writing. "They manhandled me a fair amount, grabbing my arms." He looked down at the blood pressure cuff that encircled his arm. It was putting painful pressure on his bruises, but then she stopped pumping and began to release the pressure. "They made me kneel a lot to get tied up. Once, after I tried to escape, they put leg irons on me." He rolled his eyes back, thinking. "The first time I refused to work for them, Lizaveta had someone beat me with something wide and pretty heavy. Ten blows. They counted them aloud."

"Charming people," Burney said. "Then?"

"Then I spent two days listening to Beethoven and Bach, Rachmaninov, I sort of lost track. Classical music at any rate, turned up so loud that I've probably lost some of my hearing."

Burney nodded and made a note. "We'll arrange for some tests. Go on."

"Um . . ." He shook his head. "Right, the next time she had a go at me she used a taser. She shocked me four times and then stopped." Dr. Hill made a sympathetic noise as she stuck a thermometer in his ear.

"And you still refused to work for them?" Burney asked.

"By that time I wasn't giving them anything," Daniel replied.

Burney exchanged a glance with Makepeace, who shrugged. "Go on."

"If you saw the video, then you saw everything else."

"Who treated the whip cuts?"

Daniel grimaced. "That would be Gregor. Didn't like him much."

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. He was very careful, didn't hurt me. After that, they just tried to tempt me into it by using boredom against me."

"What did Gregor do?"

"Nothing of import," Daniel said. "He just treated my back. I'm not sure what he used, I couldn't see it."

"Well, it is infected," Dr. Hill said. "And you have a low grade fever."

"Is that all?" Burney asked.

"Pretty much," Daniel said, nodding.

Makepeace raised an eyebrow and seemed to be about to speak, but Burney was quicker. "How did you get those bruises on your neck?"

"Oh, right." Daniel reached up absently to touch his throat. "When he knew they were being attacked, Gregor tried to hide me, he claimed Metzov wanted to kill me. He dragged me down to a closet. When I realized what he was really up to, he threatened to kill me if I didn't stay quiet."

"So he tried to strangle you."

"Yes."

Burney started writing, but Makepeace shook his head. "I still don't understand . . . why was he hiding you in that closet?"

"He had been trying to get to the garage, but someone was on the stairs."

"Yes, but why . . . I mean, he was working with them. Why would you believe he was trying to get you away if Metzov wanted to kill you?"

"Does it really matter?" Daniel asked, acutely embarrassed by the answer to the question.

Realization dawned in Makepeace's eyes. "Oh. He was one of those."

"One of who?" Burney asked.

"Jackson seems to attract sociopaths."

Daniel stared at him in incredulous anger for a moment, then turned to Burney. "Do you treat him?" he asked, pointing at Makepeace.

"We treat everyone on base," Burney said.

"Do me a favor next time you examine him. Use really big needles."

Dr. Hill snorted, and Daniel gave Makepeace an innocent smile. The former marine was looking at Dr. Hill with some alarm.

Burney cleared his throat, drawing Daniel's attention back to the present. "Was there anything else?" he asked. "Did anything happen to you during your escape attempt, for example?"

"Oh." Daniel blinked. "That was right after the first video tape. I lost my footing on the stairs and took a tumble. Wrenched one of my ankles, but nothing more serious than that."

"All right." Burney put the clipboard down then, and they proceeded to give him a fairly thorough physical. Then they smeared a smelly antibiotic, analgesic salve on his back and bandaged him up again. Then Burney took him to a bathroom and helped him manage a sponge bath. When he was clean again, he said, "I don't really have any clothes. Mine were taken days ago."

"I know." Burney held out a stack of clothing. "These should fit. We took the sizes from your records."

Daniel blinked as Burney left the room. He pulled the clothes on, and not only did they fit, they were the kind of thing he usually wore off duty. This was creeping him out a little, though he was pleased to find that they had provided him with shoes.

He walked out of the bathroom and found Makepeace waiting. "Come on, Jackson."

Daniel followed him to a library. Another library. He was really hoping this wasn't another Lizaveta. A portly man rose from an armchair near the fireplace. He was probably between fifty or sixty and looked like a friendly grandfather. His ears stuck out, his hair was gray and showed signs of curl despite its shortness, and he was smiling broadly.

"Welcome, Dr. Jackson, to Site 12," he said.

"Thank you. It's very nice. Can I go home now?"

"This is Gerald Connors," Makepeace said.

"Thank you Robert. Templeton is waiting for you."

"Of course, sir." Makepeace gave Daniel a nod and left the room.

"Please, Dr. Jackson, have a seat," Connors said, gesturing towards a low padded stool. "I had them bring something without a back because I thought you might prefer it."

"I do." They both sat down. "When can I go home?"

"That remains to be seen," Connors said. "In the meantime, I've got a little proposition for you."

"No."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I'm saving you some time. No. There's no need for you to propound your proposition. Whatever it is, no. I won't do it."

Connors blinked, then smiled. "Well, you don't mince words, there's that to say about you."

Daniel blinked. "No . . . I mean I can, but not on this occasion. So, since you're not going to get whatever it is you want, can I go home?"

Connors leaned down to the table between them and lifted the teapot. "Tea?"

With a sigh, Daniel resigned himself to the fact that this wasn't going to be easy. "Sure." He took the tea Connors gave him and sipped. "That isn't your real name, is it?"

"No, but it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"I guess," Daniel said. "Why am I here?"

"I thought you didn't want me to 'propound my proposition' as you put it."

"No, not that. I'm assuming you want me to do translations, to interpret artifacts, and all that sort of thing. Why here? I mean, according to what I've heard so far, you already have access to all our data. Why not send me back to where all my resources are, where I'm comfortable? Why here?"

"Because here you will not go out on missions and risk that valuable mind of yours."

Daniel was stunned. "You're kidding."

"We have tried other means, working on General Hammond's natural concern for your safety as a civilian, that sort of thing, but it hasn't worked. You've proven to be too persuasive. We're simply removing you from the temptation to put yourself in danger."

Daniel stared at the man in shock. When he found his voice again, he said, "You know, my most recent brush with danger was right here on planet Earth."

"Yes, I know, but you would not have had it had you not been offworld in a dangerous situation." He shook his head. "You should never have been permitted offworld once the danger from the Goa'uld was apparent."

"There have been a few instances where not having me there would have meant the team dying," Daniel pointed out.

"Perhaps so, but you must see it from the proper perspective. Jack O'Neill is very good at what he does, but he is, ultimately, replaceable. Major Carter is more difficult, but she is at least trained to protect herself."

"And Teal'c?"

"He's an alien," Connors said, shrugging. "Not my concern. The point is, you are impossible to replace. Even if you trained someone else, your particular gifts, your mindset . . . I'm afraid it's not teachable. You can't create that kind of thinking in another person. It's either there or it isn't. Dr. Jackson, you are a certifiable genius and risking that is simply unacceptable."

Daniel blinked, thinking about Connors' words. "So, what you're saying is that if a whole team was lost because they didn't have me along to communicate for them, the fact that you had protected me from harm would justify the loss of life?"

"In a nutshell. In fact, Major Carter, though she is exceptional in her field, she is considerably more replaceable than you are. Your unique blend of talent, knowledge and worldview make you –"

"Bullshit."

Connor's eyes widened and he sat back, eyebrows raised. "What?" he asked incredulously.

Daniel enunciated his words with care. "Bull. Shit. I am no more or less replaceable than anyone else. Furthermore, I am a valuable and productive member of SG-1. By imprisoning me, you're hurting what you claim to be trying to protect."

"How so?"

"I need those experiences, those opportunities to hear and speak new languages, to encounter cultures based on different extrapolations from our own roots, in order to continue to grow." Connors didn't seem impressed. "And this argument that I'm somehow more important and worthy of preservation than anyone else is ridiculous. Your dismissal of Teal'c, who –"

"Your respect for all life is well known, and I honor you for it, but I am not, nor can I afford to be, an idealist. Idealism is fine in times of peace, but in times of war, it must give way to hard-headed pragmatism."

Daniel shook his head. "That's –"

Connors cut him off with a sharp gesture. "You are not here to debate with me, Dr. Jackson, and this is neither the time nor the place." Daniel grit his teeth and looked down. "We seized this opportunity when it came, naturally, but I'm afraid we weren't prepared for you."

Daniel looked up with a grimace. "Well, it's good to know you weren't planning this," Daniel said. "I think I'd be pretty creeped out if you already had things set up."

Connors snorted. "In any case, suitable accommodations are being prepared for you elsewhere as we speak, but they're not ready yet."

Daniel smiled disingenuously. "You really don't need to go to the trouble. I have a very nice apartment in Colorado Springs."

Connors behaved as if Daniel hadn't spoken. He rose and went to the door. "In the meantime, there are some rooms set aside for you here. They aren't fancy, but you should find them adequate." Opening the door, he gestured for a middle aged sergeant-looking fellow to come in. "Thompson will show you to your rooms and see to your needs." He turned to go.

"I'm not going to work for you," Daniel said.

Connors turned back and paused in the doorway. "Have a pleasant few days, Dr. Jackson. I have several commitments to fulfill over the next several days, but I will return on Sunday for a drive in the country."

Daniel's lips tightened. "Looking forward to it."

"If you need anything, let either Thompson or Makepeace know." Then he was gone and Daniel was left alone with Thompson.