Chapter 15 – New Demands

Jack had to be content with reporting his conversation with Makepeace to Hammond then returning to his own work. There wasn't anything he could do without going AWOL, and that probably wouldn't help anything.

Around the middle of the following day, he got summoned into Hammond's office, though. He walked in, not sure what to expect. "We've identified the members of the rogue NID who have been surreptitiously released from prison, and I thought you'd like to know."

"Who?" Jack demanded.

"Henry Kirkpatrick, Brian Michaels and Robert Makepeace."

Jack stared at him for a second, then his control snapped. "Makepeace? Son of a bitch!"

Hammond blinked. "I don't know anything about the other two men, but I actually found Makepeace's inclusion somewhat comforting."

"How so?"

"I don't believe he'd countenance any kind of abuse of Dr. Jackson."

"I wouldn't have thought he'd countenance robbing our allies and giving information to uncleared individuals, but we know he did that." Jack shook his head. "Besides, as I understand it, Daniel was the one who really questioned Makepeace's authority and made things difficult for him while I was gone." Hammond's eyes widened. "And you find this comforting?"

"Not when you put it that way," Hammond replied. He pursed his lips. "Regardless, those are the people who aren't where they're supposed to be, and an investigation has begun to find out just how they were released and who authorized it. In the meantime, I have been assured that the investigators will take the new information into account."

Hammond's tone was dry, and his obvious displeasure was the only thing that kept Jack from blowing up. "How can we trust the NID to investigate their own mess?"

"The FBI and the CIA are involved, too."

"Great," Jack said. "The blind leading the blind and stupid."

"In the meantime, I've got a mission we need to send Dr. Balinsky on, and I want you to keep an eye on him. Dixon's still out on medical, but we can't wait this mission any longer."

"What is it, sir?" Jack asked.

"The mission to P(string). We were waiting for Dr. Jackson, but if you'll recall from the initial report –"

Jack nodded irritably. "All treaties must be completed before the summer solstice. They've got some religious taboo about doing business between the height of summer and the dying of the year. I think that's the phrase Daniel used."

"Yes, and as I recall he suggested that it had more to do with the fact that harvest falls in that time frame and it tends to be a bit of a busy season." Hammond shrugged. "Regardless, their solstice is coming up in the next week, and we need to get access to the ore in their mountains."

"It's hard to take those kinds of needs seriously when Daniel is God knows where with God knows whom experiencing God knows what."

"I understand," Hammond said. "Unfortunately, they don't go away, and you're the best team we have to handle this." He put a hand on Jack's arm. "Can you take it seriously enough?"

"Of course, sir," Jack said. "When are we scheduled to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, 0900 hours."

Jack nodded. "When's the briefing?"

"Two hours." Hammond walked back over and sat down behind his desk. "We've got to thank Balinsky for picking up the ball on this one. He brought it to me this morning."

"I'll be sure Daniel knows when he comes back," Jack said, hoping desperately that Daniel would be in a condition to appreciate the news. "In the meantime, I'd better let Carter, Teal'c and Balinsky know about the mission and the briefing."

"Thank you." Jack started to go out the door, but Hammond cleared his throat. Jack turned back. "I promise you, Jack, I'm keeping on top of the situation." Jack grimaced and nodded. "I want our boy back as much as you do."

"I know, sir," Jack said. He met Hammond's eyes for a moment longer and then left the room. Daniel would be disappointed to miss this mission, but choices being what they were . . .

When he got to the elevator, he waited for the car to come and tried hard not to think about things that people like Makepeace might do to Daniel to persuade him to cooperate. He tried even harder not to think about how Daniel would react to those things. The doors opened to reveal Sumner and Feretti. Jack walked in and pressed the button for the level of Sam's lab. The doors shut again and Feretti said, "Any news on Daniel?"

Jack shook his head. "Not really."

"When are we going to stop waiting and start acting?" Sumner asked, his voice a low growl. Jack looked at him and saw that Feretti was a little surprised.

"When Hammond authorizes it," Jack said. "Just now I have a mission to prep for, to P(string). We leave at 0900 tomorrow."

"Missions! How can you –" Sumner broke off, shaking his head.

Jack crossed his arms. "Going AWOL and getting myself court-martialed won't help Daniel any," he said. The doors opened on the lab level and he walked out. "See you guys later."

Daniel woke up with the sun hitting him in the eyes. He rolled over and sat up. His back throbbed, his ankle ached, his hands hurt, and he felt like he'd been through a fight or two. He got up and walked into the bathroom. When he was done he came out and came face to face with Kevin.

"Excuse me," Kevin muttered and hurried past him into the bathroom.

Daniel rolled his eyes and walked to the window. The sun was barely above the horizon, and the view was stunningly beautiful. He really wished he could be seeing it under other circumstances. The door behind him opened and he turned, irritation surging. "Do you know how to knock?" he demanded.

Travis smiled at him. "I do, but why bother?"

"Because it would be polite."

"I brought your breakfast. You'll have to be satisfied with that."

Daniel glared at him. "Thanks."

Travis walked over and put the tray down on the table by the window, his movements made more awkward by the way his fingers were taped. His eyes flicked to Daniel's face, a furtive glare. Kevin walked out of the bathroom and stared at the tray. "Nothing for me?" he asked.

"Food's downstairs," Travis said. "We've got a patrol outside now, so we don't have to worry about the good doctor running off again." He gave Daniel a snide grin. "Enjoy your breakfast, Dr. Jackson. Come on, Kevin."

They left him alone with his bacon and eggs, and, robbed of any more worthy target, Daniel glared at them. This was utterly ridiculous, but his stomach grumbled so he sat down and ate the food, hoping this time at least it wasn't drugged.

About an hour later, the food was gone and he was still awake. He wandered over to the window again and stared out. There were men walking along the edges of the garden, clearly the guards to see that he didn't wander away. Unlocking the window, he opened it and breathed in the fresh air.

The door behind him opened, but he didn't turn around. It wouldn't be anyone he wanted to see anyway.

"Dr. Jackson?" It was Travis speaking.

"The tray is on the table. Thank you."

"I'm not here to take your breakfast tray," Travis said. He shut the door behind him with a bit more force than was strictly necessary.

"Really?" Daniel said. He turned around. "It's all you're going to get."

"You and I need to come to an understanding."

"That's odd, I thought we already had," Daniel replied. "I'm not going to cooperate, and there's nothing you can do that will change my mind."

Travis took a step towards Daniel and gave him a mirthless smile. "I really don't think you ought to challenge me like that. It sounds kind of like a dare."

Daniel tightened his lips and looked down at his feet. Shaking his head, he looked up again. "All you and your friends have impressed me with is the conviction that I wouldn't want to give the secrets of alien Tupperware to you."

Travis walked up close so that he loomed over Daniel from mere inches away. "Look, Dr. Jackson, I can completely understand and admire your unwillingness to cooperate with those wacko Russians, but we're your own people. We're working for the government."

Daniel leaned back slightly and crossed his arms, looking up at Travis with the expression that made bullies everywhere want to smack him through the floor. Enough of them had over the years that he was reasonably certain of its effectiveness. "Odd. I wasn't aware that abduction was a standard form of interagency transfer. I'll have to look over my employee handbook again."

The other man did an impressive job of keeping his cool. Daniel was disappointed. He was hoping for a few bruises to show Makepeace. "These are extraordinary times," Travis said. "Sometimes we have to act outside standard procedures." He smiled dryly. "You ought to understand that, Dr. Jackson, don't you think?"

Daniel blinked up at him. "Acting outside standard procedures?" he asked. Travis nodded. "That implies a small variation on procedure, not a complete re-writing of the manual. Regardless, not one of you has produced so much as a forged credential to indicate that you're working for the government, and I know for a fact that at least one of you is supposed to be in prison. You'll have to forgive me for not trusting your unsupported word. These are extraordinary times, after all."

Grabbing him by the shoulders, Travis gave him a small shake. Unfortunately, this put pressure on the healing wounds on Daniel's back. Despite his best efforts, Daniel hissed at the pain it caused. Travis let go like he'd been scalded. "I didn't mean that," he said, backing up.

"Yes, you did," Daniel replied, eyes narrowed with dislike. He pushed past Travis and walked over to the sofa. He bent stiffly to pick up the remote control, making the most of his injury, just as Travis had earlier in the day. "I'm going to watch TV until you folks decide to turn me loose." He turned his back on Travis and sat down.

For several long moments, Travis didn't speak or move, but then he left the room, shutting the door behind him with a bit more care than he had used on his way in. Daniel peered over his shoulder. The breakfast tray was gone. He smiled. Round one to Daniel Jackson.

By noon he was ready to scream and rant. Morning television has precious little to offer the discerning viewer, and Daniel got too frustrated watching the pablum they fed kids and whoever else watched TV in the daytime. He walked over to the bed and lay down on his side, glaring out the window. Another round of boredom. Just what he needed to make his month complete.

The door opened and Travis came in with another tray of food. Daniel sat up and glowered at him. "I kind of got the feeling you were in charge. Isn't it beneath you to be serving me my meals?"

"You have a peculiar gift for riling people up," Travis replied. "I don't want you goading my men into doing something they shouldn't."

"I see," Daniel said with a hint of insolence in his tone. He saw Travis' jaw tighten and tried to suppress his grin. From the expression on the other man's face, he failed. Snorting, he said, "You've got to see it from my point of view, Travers."

"Travis."

"Whatever. I don't want to be here. You have no legal right to detain me here. All your claims of moral authority dangle perilously from a point that I don't and won't accept. It serves no purpose, from my point of view, to make this easy for you or your men. Since that's the case . . ." He shrugged.

"What would persuade you to work for us?"

Daniel blinked. "Nothing short of the end of the world," he said. "And that would need to be certified in triplicate." He smiled.

"Enjoy your lunch, Dr. Jackson," Travis said sourly. Then he left the room without another word. Daniel stood up and walked over to the table. Ham sandwich with all the trimmings, mustard and mayo on the side. Potato salad. A glass of lemonade. Sighing, he sat down. At least the food was decent.

Jack sat irritably while Dr. Balinsky babbled in the local language with the headman of the village. He could tell that the mission was going well from the reactions of the locals, which probably, if he was lucky, meant that the mission would be over soon and they could head home. He glanced over at Teal'c who seemed to be of the same mindset, though he guarded Balinsky closely.

Balinsky and the headman shook hands and the archeologist turned towards Jack with a grin. "I've been successful, sir. We have the mining rights."

"Okay, let's sign the documents and get out of here."

"Um . . ." Balinsky bit his lip. "Actually, there's kind of a ritual, sir. We have to be here for two days of celebration and then we'll sign the documents."

"Two days?" Jack protested.

Balinsky grimaced. "Sir, I'm sorry, but if we don't agree, the whole thing will fall through."

Jack nodded. "Of course, of course. Lead on." He followed to the party, wishing he knew what was happening to Daniel at the moment.

The door opened about two hours after lunch arrived and Daniel looked up. Travis again. "Hi," Daniel said. "So, do you have a bus ticket for me?" The other man stared at him in consternation. "Or maybe a plane ticket?" No response. Daniel rolled his eyes. "I'd settle for a couple of bucks and a map."

Travis walked into the room, picked up the tray and said, "Follow me."

Shrugging, Daniel followed him. "Is there a bus ticket at the end of this walk?"

They went through the door into the open area that made up most of this floor. Daniel looked around at the bookshelves. "This is your workspace," Travis said. "You will not be permitted back into your bedroom until after working hours are over." Daniel smiled pleasantly, hiding his irritation. A young woman approached from the back of the house where there was a door leading into a room that looked more like an office and less like a library. "This is Ms. Tigard. She will show you where the files we need you to work on are. There's no point in going downstairs, we're all down there waiting for you. Have a great afternoon."

"You, too," Daniel said. Travis turned away, and Daniel couldn't resist. "Oh, you will still be here later, when it's time for dinner?"

Travis turned back with a forced smile. "Thompson will be here by then. He'll take care of you."

"Oh, so you do get to leave occasionally, do you?" Daniel asked brightly. Travis stared at him for a moment, then turned and left without speaking. Daniel shrugged, his grin staying in place.

A feminine throat clearing behind him made him turn. "Good afternoon, Dr. Jackson. Please, call me Sylvia." Daniel gave her a bland look. "Please come with me. All the files are in the office."

"Sure," Daniel said. He followed her in. She was tall for a woman, about his height, and she wore her long dark hair in a single braid. Her clothes were prim, almost dowdy, and her shoes were very sensible.

"I wasn't sure how you'd want to organize things here," she said.

"Oh, I don't plan on organizing anything," Daniel said pleasantly.

She gave him a puzzled look. "Well, I already have it set up by language, if we could identify it, and within the unknown languages, I've tried to separate things the best I could by similar types." She shrugged, clearly somewhat nervous. "I'm not all that experienced with linguistics."

"I see," Daniel said. He walked over to the window. A different view of rolling green plains, and he thought that might be a kitchen garden below.

She seemed disconcerted by his apparent lack of interest. "Within each language, I've separated it by type of item. Artifacts vs. documents vs. monuments. Obviously, none of the artifacts are in here." She gave a nervous little laugh. He turned his head and smiled at her and she bit her lip. "Some of them are here, but I've been told we can requisition any of them you feel you need to aid you in the translation."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," Daniel said. He wandered over to the desk and looked down at the amenities there. Leather desk set, very good pens and pencils, a selection of paper, including tracing paper, rubbing paper, and fine cloth paper. The usual desk apparatus, stapler, tape, etc., all of excellent quality.

"It won't?" she repeated uncertainly.

"Nope. I won't be doing any translations."

She blinked at him, looking startled. "Oh," she said faintly after several seconds.

"They did tell you that I don't want to be here, right?" he asked.

Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly. "I know you're in protective custody."

"Against my will," he added, to round out the statement.

She gazed at him uneasily. "Protective custody isn't always voluntary."

He shrugged. "I don't need it."

"I think Mr. Travis and Mr. Connors and the others disagree."

"Well, they're wrong," Daniel said. "So, no offense, but you organize things however you'd like. I'm going to go find something to read." Turning around, he left the office and went into the library. Finding a book he'd been meaning to finish, he pulled it off the shelf, found his place, and walked over to sit down at the table.

Sylvia followed him out and watched him in apparent perplexity, then she returned to the office and fussed about for the remainder of the afternoon. Six o'clock rolled around and Daniel kept reading until Thompson walked in.

"Good evening, sir," he said. "Do you have any preferences for dinner?"

"Yeah, I'd like some of the meatloaf they have in the SGC commissary."

Thompson stared at him curiously for a moment. "I believe that could be arranged, but it would take several days, and I don't think it would be hot by then."

"It's several days' flight to the SGC?" Daniel asked. Thompson pursed his lips primly. "I didn't think so," Daniel said. "If you got me to a plane, I'm sure I could be at the SGC in time for tomorrow night's dinner, and tomorrow night is meatloaf night."

"I see, sir. What would you like for dinner tonight?"

"I'm sure whatever you choose to cook will be fine," Daniel said, giving up on his effort to call attention to the reality of the situation.

"Thank you, sir," Thompson said, and then left like a properly trained servant. Daniel glared after him.

Sylvia cleared her throat and Daniel turned towards her with a curious smile. He was actually getting very tired. His back was stiff, and it ached from sitting upright all afternoon. And Thompson hadn't unlocked his bedroom door. Some of his feelings must have showed through the veneer he was trying to maintain, because Sylvia's eyes softened. "You really don't look well, Dr. Jackson."

"I'm sure I don't," he replied with a sigh. He looked up at her. "Did they tell you anything?"

"They said you'd been rescued from Russian gangsters, but were inclined to view your protective custody as unjust incarceration." She paused, tilting her head. "Why, what did happen?"

As a declassified version of what he'd gone through, it was fairly accurate. He shrugged, and the movement made him wince. Her eyes widened with increased concern. He grimaced. "I took some injuries during my previous captivity," he said stiffly.

"You poor man," she exclaimed. "Please sit down. I'll let them know you're feeling poorly when I go downstairs."

A sudden thought occurred to him. "Do you live on the compound?" he asked. If she didn't, if she drove outside the area every day, he might be able to get her to help him.

"Yes," she said. Daniel concealed his disappointment. "There's a sort of laboratory about fifteen miles south of here. I guess they thought I'd be uneasy staying here, in a house full of men, so they've set me up with a nice little apartment there."

He nodded absently, distracted by thoughts about escape. "I'm glad you're comfortable," he replied with automatic courtesy.

"Oh, thank you, Dr. Jackson," she said, and Daniel blinked uncertainly at her. Her gushing response seemed out of keeping with his rather wan acknowledgment of her circumstances. She wasn't done yet, either, apparently. "Given your own misfortunes, it's very kind of you to spare a thought for me."

"Not at all," Daniel said. "Good night."

She nodded and after a brief but awkward pause, she replied in kind and went downstairs. Daniel put his head down on the table and closed his eyes. Maybe they wanted to drive him crazy. That might actually work. He groaned.

"Bad day?" Travis asked, and Daniel sat up far too quickly. He hissed as his back protested the sudden movement. Travis knit his brows. "Looks like it might have been," he commented. "You okay?"

Daniel shook his head weakly. "You've got to be kidding!"

Travis pursed his lips and sighed. "Let's get you back into your bedroom," he said after a moment. "I seem not to have taken your injuries into account in my scheduling, and I'm very sorry for that. Tomorrow it will be rectified."

"Oh." Daniel gazed at him, wondering if the man wanted to be thanked for his generosity. Travis turned towards the bedroom door and Daniel rose, following him. Travis unlocked the door and opened it, stepping back to let Daniel in. Daniel walked in and stood, back to the door, waiting for Travis to lock the door behind him and go. He noticed as he stood there that the window screen had been replaced, and bars had been added outside all the windows. They were open, letting in a cool breeze.

Instead of leaving, Travis entered the bedroom. Daniel could still hear him breathing when the door closed. He closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. "What do you want?" he asked.

"Dr. Jackson, we truly mean you no harm. We just want you to stay in a protected position while you do your vital work. Losing you to some pointless skirmish would be a tragedy and allowing your mind to fall into the possession of our enemies would be a crime." Daniel waved a dismissive hand at him and went over to lie flat on his face on the bed, hoping that Travis would get the point that the conversation was over. "Dr. Jackson, truly," he added, walking towards the bed. Daniel closed his eyes. "We have not only your best interests at heart, but the nation's." Daniel didn't respond. Maybe he would finally get the hint and shut up, even if he wouldn't go away. "You are an undervalued asset in our fight against offworld aggression and –"

"Spare me your self-righteous bullshit," he growled, rolling up to a sitting position to glare at Travis who looked affronted. "What do you think you know about 'offworld aggression' as you so blithely term it?" He scowled at Travis. "Justify it to yourself however you like. I know it's nonsense."

Travis was getting visibly annoyed again. "Dr. Jackson, you need –"

"Go away!" Daniel said, and he heard his voice breaking. Travis broke off and he stared at Daniel open-mouthed. "I ache and I'm tired and I don't want to hear anything more about your reasons for wrenching me out of my life."

"We didn't do any wrenching," Travis protested. "That was the Russians."

"Go away," Daniel repeated wearily. "Go the hell away and talk to people who believe you."

Pursing his lips, Travis turned around and walked out of the room. Daniel listened and he heard the sound of the key turning in the lock. Someone had promised him more freedom here. Somehow that didn't seem to be happening.

He flopped down flat on the bed. For several minutes he just lay there, contemplating his options. He could remain flopped, which was appealing to say the least. He could go to the bathroom, a need that was sporadically making itself known. He could hurl himself repeatedly at the door until it broke. This also had its appealing points. He could break the neck of the next person who came into the room. He smiled grimly into the bedspread.

The door opened and he growled.

"Thanks a lot, Jackson," Makepeace said.

Daniel pushed himself upright and glared at him. "What are you doing here?"

"Travis sent me up to check on you. Seems to think you're hurt."

"I had just decided to kill the next person who came in here," Daniel said sourly. "Come on over here and check on me, why don't you?"

"Ha ha ha," Robert said. He walked over and looked down at Daniel. "So, are you hurt?"

Daniel tilted his head. "Well, I've been beaten, shocked, whipped, and strangled, in that order." He gestured to his leg. "There's a mostly healed burn here and –"

"New hurt," Robert interpolated.

"No," Daniel said. "I'm just sick and tired of being lectured by idiots."

"So, do you need anything?"

"A key to the door and a gas grenade?" Daniel said hopefully.

Robert rolled his eyes. "Anything that wouldn't get me shot?"

Daniel sighed contemplatively, then shook his head. "Nope, I can't think of a thing."

"Fine. I'll see you tomorrow." He turned to go away, and Daniel drew in a breath to say something, though he had no idea what. Robert stopped and turned back. Daniel shook his head at his inquiring look. "What? Does O'Neill read you a bedtime story?"

Daniel gave him a disgusted look. "No, that's Sam's job," he said sarcastically.

Robert's eyes took on a faraway glaze. "Hell, I wouldn't mind having Carter read me a bedtime story."

"Hey!" Daniel said, straightening and glaring at the other man.

"Cool off, Jackson, I'm not interested, but you gotta admit, she's a looker."

"You keep your mind off of Sam!" Daniel growled, knowing he was being ludicrous.

"Hold your horses," Makepeace said with a laugh. "She's too young. Now if we were talking about –" He broke off abruptly and flushed.

Daniel blinked, afire with curiosity. "If we were talking about who?" he asked.

"Never you mind, Jackson," Robert said.

"No, come on, I'm curious now."

"That's your problem."

"I'm going to wonder. Do you want me to make something up?" Robert's eyes widened. "Do you want me to go back to the SGC with my guesses and start asking people?"

"Why would you do that?"

"It's fun. Besides, I have to pay you back for torturing me like this."

He was wholly unprepared for the galvanic impression he made on Makepeace. "I'm not! I haven't – I wouldn't –"

Daniel shook his head. "I meant torturing me with curiosity, Robert," he said irritably. "I know you wouldn't torture me physically. You leave that to Travis."

"Of course I –" Robert started, then he broke off, staring aghast at him. "What? What did he do?"

Daniel shrugged, wincing. He played up the wince slightly for Robert's benefit. "Nothing," he said unconvincingly.

Robert stood up abruptly and walked across and out of the room. Daniel watched him go with more than a little surprise. He had expected some kind of response, but not this purposeful exit. It was actually a little alarming.

Even more alarming were the sounds he heard a few moments later. It came in through the windows, which suggested that the windows downstairs were open too. Daniel stood up and walked over to the one he'd broken out through. He heard raised voices, and then the sounds of a scuffle, then an ominous silence. Heavy footsteps on the stairs followed, and he looked at the door, waiting for someone to come in. The footsteps stopped well before they reached his door, however.

After about twenty minutes, Thompson came in with a covered tray and set it down on the table. Daniel looked at him. "What happened downstairs?" he asked.

"I don't know what you mean, sir," Thompson said with such utter conviction that Daniel almost believed him. "If you please, I need to change your bandages. Dinner will keep for the moment." Uncertainly, Daniel followed him into the bathroom and let him redress the wounds. "The infection does not seem to be going away as fast as Dr. ?? said it would. I will have to let them know. In the meantime, sir, I think it would be best if you avoided any strenuous activities."

"Whatever," Daniel said. "Is it knit enough that I can bathe yet?"

"No baths, sir, but showers would be acceptable," he said. "Prolonged immersion would be deleterious, I believe."

"Right." Daniel sighed.

"If you would like, sir, I will come in the morning and remove the bandages so you can shower, then I will return to rebandage you afterwards."

"That would be great."

"Very well, then. Have you any other hurts that need to be tended?"

Daniel shook his head and waved him off. He would not be waved, however. He led Daniel over to the table with the tray and lifted the cover for him to reveal a steaming slice of roast beef, a pile of fluffy mashed potatoes, a small gravy boat, green and yellow string beans, a green salad, and a glass of milk. Daniel glowered down at it, but he sat down.

"I shall be back in an hour with your after dinner coffee, sir," Thompson said, and then left. Daniel ate, knowing that both Jack and Janet Fraiser would be furious with him if he refused to eat. He might start a hunger strike later, if other ploys failed, but he had a sinking feeling that they'd simply hold him down and force feed him. The coffee Thompson brought him was delicious. He drank it while Thompson took the tray away, making displeased noises over how little Daniel had eaten. It was one thing to force himself to eat enough to be healthy, quite another to clean his plate when he felt vaguely nauseated. The coffee, however, was good. He sat down on the sofa, popped the TV on and sat back to watch Law & Order.