Chapter 16 – No Means No

Light fell on Daniel's face, awakening him. He blinked and wondered when he'd gone to bed. The last thing he remembered was hoping that the verdict would be guilty. He shifted to the edge of the bed and sat up. He was wearing his boxers and nothing else. Since that wasn't what he typically wore to bed, he wasn't sure how he'd wound up that way.

Looking down, he stared stupidly at the ankle cuff before he recognized what it was. They'd drugged him again, no doubt with the coffee. They'd drugged him and replaced the house arrest cuff. He stood up and went into the bathroom. The marble soap dish was gone. He narrowed his eyes and made a tour of the room. Everything large enough to be useful to him in destroying the transmitter had been removed. Mouth tight with annoyance, he walked back to the door into the bathroom. He opened it, carefully placed the box between the door and the frame, then swung the door wide and slammed it shut on the thing with all his strength.

It shattered with a satisfying crunch. He shook his leg to let the loose pieces fall away and then squatted to examine what was left of it. There were still some bits of electronics stuck to the casing, so he began to pull at them with his fingers, yanking as much of it away as he could. He was still in the process of peeling the last bits away when the door opened. He rose and turned with a smile to welcome Travis into the room. "Good morning," he said maliciously.

"Good morning, Dr. Jackson. What do you think you're doing?"

"Removing an unnecessary device," Daniel said sweetly. "I guess the broken fingers weren't enough to convince you that I don't want it and won't tolerate its presence."

"Dr. Jackson, you have to understand that –"

"I don't have to do anything," Daniel said. He noticed with some mild misgivings that a large number of men had filed into the room. "If you've read my files, as you claim, then you know that I am not a man who submits well to intimidation."

"Be reasonable," Kevin said with an ingratiating smile.

"So far I haven't killed anyone," Daniel said, matching Kevin's smile. Kevin blinked at him. "I consider that to be eminently reasonable." There were several smirks and a few uneasy looks. Daniel glowered. "Don't let the glasses and the preferred pacifist tendencies fool you, gentlemen. I've been training with Jack and Teal'c for four years now. Admittedly, every one of you is more than a match for me, but I have the advantage. You need to keep me alive and undamaged." The corollary to that was abundantly clear to all of them. There were no smirks any longer. "Furthermore, if I kill one of you, I won't get the death penalty. The same cannot be said for you."

"Parker, get me some shears," Travis said. "All right, Jackson, I will take the cuff off and leave it off for the time being. If you make further escape attempts, however, steps will have to be taken."

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Could you just speak plain English?"

Travis's eyes snapped. "If you try to escape again, the cuff goes back on."

Daniel smiled. "That's clear enough. If you put the cuff back on, I start hurting people." Travis looked like he was going to make an angry retort, but Daniel cut him off. "Now, gentlemen, if you don't mind, I'd like to take a leak. Then, is Thompson here?"

"He's downstairs at the moment," Travis said.

"Then would you send him up immediately? I need him to take care of my bandages before and after my shower." He glanced down at the cuff and broken casing on his ankle. "He can cut the remains of this device off then." Giving Travis a disarming smile, he opened the bathroom door. "Thank you," he added dismissively and left the room.

It was a small victory, but he'd take it. Thompson arrived as he was washing his hands and helped him with the bandages. He also cut the plastic cuff off and took it away. Daniel took the opportunity and looked at his back in the mirror. It was nasty. The whip cuts crossed each other on top of yellowing bruises. His back looked rather like it was rotting away. He could see the redness Thompson had detected as well, where two of the whip scores intersected. The sight made him feel kind of sick at his stomach. He turned the water on to a lukewarm temperature, but it still stung a bit on his back. The shower felt great otherwise, but he cut it short, not wanting to risk problems.

Thompson came in shortly after he got out with fresh clothes and bandages. Daniel got his underwear on then let Thompson bandage him. He drew the line at helping him get dressed, however, firmly shutting the door with his would-be valet on the outside. He had no idea how deep in this Thompson was, but the mere fact of his cooperating with men who were holding him prisoner made Daniel unwilling to trust him.

Once he was dressed, he went out into the living room and gazed out over the gardens. He'd like to go outside, but he doubted the opportunity would be afforded him. "Your breakfast will be up in a few minutes, sir. Do you like your eggs scrambled or otherwise?"

"Cheese omelet," Daniel said without turning around. He heard the door shut as Thompson left and sighed. He watched some TV, but developed a headache after breakfast and went back to bed to take a nap.

Thompson brought lunch but Daniel just looked at it from across the room. He wasn't hungry, and the expectation of neither Jack's nor Janet's reproaches had the power to move him. He kicked most of the covers off, turned over and fell back asleep.

"Jackson!" He blinked as the voice cut through his head like a spike. Rolling over he saw Makepeace come into view above him. He had a spectacular shiner on his left eye.

"Who hit you?" Daniel asked.

"Doesn't matter." He stared down at Daniel. "You look like shit."

"Thanks." Daniel rolled back over and close his eyes. "Go away." Robert put his hand on Daniel's cheek, and Daniel blinked up at him. "Why are you touching me?" he asked blearily.

"Shit," Robert said. He raised his voice. "Travis, we've got a problem!"

"Not so loud," Daniel protested. "Head hurts." Robert bent and started pulling the blankets back over him. Daniel shoved them back off. "Hot."

"That's why you need the blankets, Daniel," Robert said, pulling them back.

Robert was clearly missing the point. Daniel shoved them off again. "Hot," he said more firmly.

"God, you turn into a two-year-old," Robert grumbled. He pulled the blankets across Daniel again and tucked them in. "You're sick, Daniel, you need the blankets."

Daniel blinked at him and glared at the blankets. "Hot," he said plaintively, starting to push at them again.

Robert grabbed them and held them where they were. "You have a fever, Jackson. Just lay –"

"What's wrong now?" Travis demanded from the doorway.

Daniel winced. "Not so loud," he said.

Travis joined Robert at the side of the bed. "What's wrong with him? He malingering?"

Daniel glared up at him impotently. He'd like to stick that word down Travis's craw, but he didn't have the energy. Robert crossed his arms. "No, Bill. You opened up his wounds and he's got an infection. I remember Thompson mentioning something about it yesterday and you saying it wasn't a big deal."

"It wasn't."

"Go away," Daniel said. He really wanted to ask them to argue somewhere else, but he couldn't string the words together coherently. It was at that moment that he realized that Robert was right. He was sick. "Crap!" he muttered. Both the other men turned and looked down at him in apparent surprise. "Jack's gonna be pissed," he added in a gloating tone, looking up at Travis.

"What does he think O'Neill is?" Travis exclaimed. "A god?"

"No, just a very pissed off flyboy with an Uzi and a Jaffa in tow."

Daniel shook his head. "P-90," he said. Robert looked down at him. "P-90, since Chakka."

"Don't get technical, Jackson," Robert said. "Go to sleep."

"Go away," Daniel said.

"Go to sleep."

"I'll go to sleep when you go 'way," Daniel said, narrowing his eyes.

"Fine, but don't kick your blankets off. I'll have Thompson bring you some broth."

"Not hungry."

"I don't care." Robert tucked the blankets in tighter. "I'll be back to check on you."

Thompson did come in with broth, and Robert came by several hours later to make sure he was okay. Daniel slept on and off over the next day or so, he lost track of time. Clearly he'd found some very interesting bacteria because it was keeping him very sick for a very long time. He was also having some very entertaining dreams that were going nowhere pleasant.

Jack felt tanned, stuffed and extremely frustrated by the time the treaty festival was over and they were able to return to the SGC. He tolerated the medical exam and attended the debriefing with all the enthusiasm he could summon up. Balinsky was justifiably pleased with himself, and Jack gave him the credit he was due, but he just wanted the damned meeting over so he could ask the general if there was any news on Daniel. Not that Hammond wouldn't have greeted him with it, or even called them offworld to let them know, but . . .

Jack knew he wasn't being reasonable, but that knowledge didn't help any.

As the meeting broke up, the general's secretary came in and spoke quietly in his ear. Jack lingered, wanting to ask his questions, and Hammond beckoned him over. "We appear to have some news, colonel," he said. "Rodriguez, tell us again."

"Yes sir," Lt. Rodriguez said. "Four days ago a police report was filed. It described a strange altercation in the front seat of a van in which a young man was seen to be trying to punch through a side front window. It might have passed unnoticed, but the police officer who took the report remembered an argument he'd heard between his sister and his twelve-year-old niece. He verified that they had been on the same road at the same time as the incident in his report, then got his niece to tell him more details. Apparently, her mother's car had been directly in front of the vehicle, and she had been hanging over the back seat, so she had a clear view of everything that happened."

Jack found this fascinating. "Why didn't the sister report anything?"

"She didn't believe her daughter, apparently, said what she saw was too incredible. That things like that only happened on TV or in movies."

"What did she see?" Jack asked.

"A young man, matching the description of Daniel Jackson, suddenly jumped into the front of the van, first trying to break the passenger side window, then blaring on the horn. Before he could do more, another man dragged him backwards and some kind of screen was hung up between the front seats so she couldn't see."

"Could she describe anyone else?" Jack asked.

"Yes sir. The man in the passenger seat appears to have been Robert Makepeace. We have not yet identified the driver."

"Has she been shown photos?" Hammond asked.

"Not yet, but we've sent some along of both Dr. Jackson and our suspects."

"Good," Hammond said. "Now, where was this?"

"Southern Montana."

"Russia to southern Montana?" Jack exclaimed. "They brought him back into the country? That makes things simpler." He walked to the door and hollered, "Teal'c, break out the P-90s!"

"Colonel!" Hammond growled.

"What, sir?" Jack asked. "Montana's full of a lot of not much. We just go out there and shoot people until we find him."

"O'Neill!" Hammond said sharply

Carter and Teal'c came back into the briefing room looking startled. Jack shook his head. "Sir, I don't think you're taking this seriously enough. Daniel can piss people off to a killing rage in less than twenty-four hours. It's been a lot longer than that, sir, and I'm not willing to trust that some NID jerks are going to be able to restrain themselves. After all that's already happened to him, I think we need to step up the pace a little so the bastards don't get a chance to hurt him any more."

"The police and the FBI are attempting to trace the van," Hammond said. "We will move when we get more information. In the meantime –"

"In the meantime couldn't we be waiting in the area, ready to move?" Jack suggested. He could tell that both Carter and Teal'c were with him, a fact Hammond acknowledged by looking at each of them, then sighing.

"We don't know that they didn't take him to another airstrip, Jack."

"They wouldn't take him to another airstrip in Montana, sir," Jack protested. "Why take him that far across the country to fly him somewhere else?"

"Give it a day or so, then we'll –"

"A day, sir?" Jack exclaimed. "It's been four since that information was fresh."

"Yes, and for all we know they've driven him into the wilds of Saskatchewan," Hammond said. "We need more data."

"Which we're not finding by staying here."

"There's nothing we can do, Jack," Hammond said, putting a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "It's out of our jurisdiction."

Jack grimaced and looked down. He just had images of Daniel being smacked around by a bunch of guys who had no real grasp of just how important he really was.

Daniel drifted towards the surface from a fairly calm and natural sleep. He could hear people talking in the room, low, intense voices. "I still don't know what you were thinking, Travis, to grab a man like this. Do you have any idea of just how important he is?" Daniel thought that was Gerald Connors.

"Yes sir," Travis said, sounding chastened.

"Irreplaceable knowledge!"

"Yes sir."

"I believe I gave specific orders that physical demonstrations were to be avoided at all costs. Did I fail to make myself clear?"

"No sir," Travis said.

"For one thing, he is not the enemy. A little misguided perhaps, but not the enemy."

"I know, sir," Travis replied. Daniel kept his eyes closed, fascinated.

"He has saved the world a good many times more than you have."

"It was not my intention, sir. I just . . . it's why I haven't been allowing the other men alone with him. He could try the patience of a saint."

"And you're not a saint?" Connors asked.

"I don't know any saints," Travis growled. "And he knows it. He knows he's doing it, he does it deliberately. I think he's trying to goad me into doing something drastic."

"He probably is, he's a very smart man."

"Yes, it's bright to goad a man twice your size into slamming his fist into your face."

"You're not twice his size," Connors said, sounding vaguely amused. "And I certainly hope you're not going to slam your fist into his face, because then I might have to get rid of you."

"Of course not," Travis said immediately.

"If you're that incapable of recognizing his importance to this country, this organization has no use for you."

"I really had no intention of hurting him," Travis protested. "I merely grabbed him. I had not taken the injuries on his back into consideration." The door opened and Daniel wondered who had come in.

"I would take over this operation myself, but I have to be seen elsewhere too frequently."

"Are you two still 'discussing' that?" asked Makepeace. "Unless you want to wake up our important guest, I might suggest taking your conversation elsewhere."

"And I don't like his attitude," Travis said. "He acts like he's in charge of the prisoner."

"The reason Makepeace is along on this little jaunt is that he knows Dr. Jackson considerably better than any of the rest of us do."

"Kevin –"

"Has read the man's reports. That is not a substitute for actual interaction."

"I don't think he's helping. He encourages Dr. Jackson's insolent attitude."

"Dr. Jackson can be as insolent as he wants, Travis. He is our guest. You are replaceable. He is not."

"Sirs, I really think that unless you want to share this whole conversation with Daniel, you should leave."

"Too late," Daniel muttered, then propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at them with a snarky grin. Travis looked incensed, Connors looked chagrined and Makepeace looked amused. "But could you go away anyhow? I'm trying to sleep."

"You seem a good deal better, Dr. Jackson," Connors said. "And I'm sorry we disturbed you." He fixed Travis with an intent stare. "You, out!"

They left and Daniel glared up at Makepeace. "Thanks, Robert. I was getting all sorts of interesting information out of playing possum."

"Am I supposed to be on your side?" Robert asked curiously.

"No!" Daniel growled. "Did you know I was awake?"

"No, and I genuinely didn't want them to wake you up. How are you feeling?"

"Better," Daniel said grudgingly. "Why are you in here anyway?"

He pointed to a tray sitting on the bedside table. "Broth."

"I don't want broth."

"I'm not real worried about that," Makepeace said. "If I have to plug your nose and pour it down your throat, I'm going to."

"Bully."

"Wuss. Drink your broth. It's good for you."

Daniel took the mug and started drinking. "How long was I weird for?" he asked.

"Jackson, you have always been weird, but this recent delirium has only lasted a couple days. The doctor wants you to stay in bed for a few more days."

"Thrilling. I bet Janet's cure would be to get me up and moving."

"Not for this. She'd order bedrest, I guarantee it."

Daniel slumped. "I know."

"And you wouldn't want to piss off our little spitfire, now would you?"

Daniel looked at him curiously. He'd never heard anyone refer to Janet as a spitfire before, and there was a look on Robert's face that gave him ideas that he thought he'd better keep to himself. The fever had had an unfortunate effect on his tongue, however. "You like Janet!" he exclaimed.

Robert's eyes widened and he flushed. "What are you talking about?" he said.

Now that Daniel's tongue had been loosed it ran away with him. "The other night, you started to say who you were interested in at the SGC, but stopped. It was Janet, wasn't it?"

"Doc? Don't be ridiculous," Robert said, but it sounded a little hollow.

"No, I can see that," Daniel said. "I think she could really have gone for you."

"Jackson, knock it off."

"Too bad you fucked everything up so bad." Robert blanched and fell silent and Daniel wanted to kick himself. "I didn't . . . I shouldn't have said that."

"Said what?" Robert asked airily. He glared at the mug in Daniel's hand. "You're supposed to be drinking that." Daniel became abruptly very interested in the contents of his mug. "So, a couple of us are going to town for supplies this afternoon, so I think someone else is going to bring you your next dose of broth. Be nice to them, okay?"

"Why?" Daniel asked. "I'm not nice to you."

Robert stared at him, then shook his head slowly. "Here's some water and a book. I'm leaving now."

"Bye," Daniel said, but when he looked at the book he wanted to call out his thanks, too. The book was the one he'd been reading in the office. And the water tasted wonderful.