Apologies for the delay. I have "man-flu", which is impressive for a woman I think. This isn't finished yet so those who asked for a longer story, consider your wish granted. Enjoy.

Part 3

First light came earlier than anticipated the sun rising barely more than an hour after Carter had fallen asleep. With the warm rays shining through the water that poured over the front of the cavern the space they occupied became marginally more comfortable. For a little while the colonel enjoyed watching rainbows form in the spray, plotting their course as the sun rose higher. Hearing Carter stir he stood up and pulled a small stove from his kit bag and began boiling water. Soup for breakfast wasn't high on his list of things to try, but it would be warm and tasty. He mulled the thought over for a moment. No, not tasty, just warm.

"What happened to second watch?," Carter asked as she blinked sleep from her eyes.

"The sun came up. O'Neill answered, stirring powdered soup mix into pot, "You've only been asleep about an hour thirty."

Carter looked surprised. It was no wonder she felt exhausted still, or why O'Neill looked grey in the bright sunlight. Sitting up proved a difficult position to negotiate with bandaged hands and Carter struggled to free herself from the sleeping bag, eventually worming her way out of it until she was lying on the hard floor. Unaware of the colonel's watchful eyes she managed to upright herself using her legs and stomach muscles, feeling every sinew tug just sufficiently enough to remind her of the previous nights difficulties. Wheezing already in the cool morning air changing position made her cough until her lungs finally relented and breathing became normal again.

"I sound like my great uncle," Carter mused quietly, "He smoked about 60 a day for most of his life."

O'Neill poured the soup into a mug and set the pot on the side. Whilst the sun had burnt off the worst of the cold in the cavern it was far from warm. Still wrapped in the foil blanket he shivered a little and swapped his position by the stove for one next to Carter. Carter reached for the sleeping bag and with her bandaged fingers unable to open the fastening she resorted to clumsily draping the bag over them both. Placing the mug of soup on the floor O'Neill finished off what Carter had started, unzipping the envelope until it opened almost flat and then re-arranging it in a more functional way around them. Side by side, sharing body heat and united in their exhaustion Carter rested her head on his shoulder, and he rested his head on hers. They sat quietly for a while, the only sounds the pouring of the waterfall and the clinking of the metal spoon as O'Neill idly stired the contents of the mug.

"What flavour?" Carter asked a few minutes later, her stomach grumbling now the aroma of dried soup had filled the cavern.

"Chicken and mushroom," he said, and offered her the mug, "Ladies first."

Carter grimaced, "So egg and bacon isn't on offer?"

"Fresh out," his tired face twisted into a small smile.

Carter sipped the hot liquid tentatively. It might have been chicken and mushroom, but it could just as easily have been vegetable. As usual the military food pack was of undefinable taste. They shared the mug in the well-established ritual of turn taking, it was not the first time they had been a pack short and in a similar situation, and they both knew it would not be the last. The bandages on Carter's hands made it difficult to grasp the tin mug but she managed without grimacing at the discomfort the action caused. Sitting with his shoulder touching hers O'Neill felt the tension in her body as she forced herself not to give in to the pain.

"I'm going to check out the village," O'Neill said when they had finished the soup, "I wanna see if the snake-heads are still poking around. "

"We should both go, sir."

O'Neill looked at her quizzically, "No, Carter, we shouldn't. If I get caught I can convince them I was alone and you will be able to raise the alarm when they take off through the stargate. Let's face it, they aren't going to kill me on sight. Apparently I am a man of some standing in Goa'uld circles, the creepy little critters want to torture me before they'll let me die. Anyway, their egos are so big they can't resist showing off and dragging everything out. They are usually so busy being omnipotent tyrants they forget what ordinary humans can do. That will buy you enough time to raise the alarm and get Hammond to send a bunch of SG teams out on a rescue. If they capture us both then who's coming after us?"

Carter opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by the colonel's raised hand.

"I don't want to hear it, Major. You are staying here and that is an order. I will be back within two hours. If I'm not you have enough supplies there to buy you a few days, by then they will have gated off this world and …"

"Sir, if you are captured and taken off world how are we going to know where to look for you?"

"I admit, that's not the best part of the plan… but we've found smaller needles in bigger haystacks."

There was little room for argument and Carter knew it. She could not fight, could not use her own gun, and wasn't fit to run very far without collapsing on the floor coughing her lungs up. There was every possibility that the Goa'uld had withdrawn from this world after destroying the village, there was nothing of strategic value in the immediate vicinity and they had no experience of the Goa'uld venturing far from the stargate to exploit areas further afield. They were "gods" after all. Current thinking was that the Goa'uld wouldn't want their subjects to know they couldn't just magic their way half the way around a world so they stuck close to the stargate at all times.

With no further argument to be had O'Neill hauled himself up from the floor and checked his side arm, P90, ammunition and canteens. Carter's M9 was by his kit bag and he made sure she knew it was there, along with a supply of food and his extensive first aid materials. Checking the time and agreeing it was 5am back on earth, O'Neill made his was out of the cavern without looking back, unwilling to subject himself to the look of concern he knew nestled on Carter's face.

The ascent of the waterfall was easier in daylight than their nocturnal descent, but it was no less slippery. It was not long before O'Neill's BDU was soaked through again, the cold of the water penetrating his skin and seeping into his bones. Pressing on he checked his watch, it had taken 15 minutes to reach the head of the waterfall, and with an estimated three clicks to walk back to the village he would need to move swiftly.

His wet clothes leaving a distinct trail on the dusty path O'Neill crossed onto the farm land and wound his way up through rows of something that looked like maize, but with deep red kernels on stalks that stood, at most, 4 feet high. Zigzagging his way between the irregularly spaced rows he allowed himself a brief reminiscence of his youth, running through corn fields in Minnesota. He sure missed those days when he could run for hours without thinking about it. It was mornings like this one when his knees were stiff and he ached with the cold that O'Neill knew in his heart his days of front line duty were running out.

A noise up ahead stopped him in his tracks and he dropped to the floor, peering between the corn stalks to the crest of the hill where a group of jaffa stood taking orders from their commander. A particularly muscular band of men with the symbol of Moloc emblazoned on their foreheads the party numbered seven in total, including the leader who was barking orders loudly at his underlings. O'Neill winced and pressed himself closer to the earth, the guy in charge might have been speaking a different language but his tone of voice left no doubt in the colonel's mind that Moloc's troops were looking for them.

Sliding backwards until he was sure he was far enough beyond camber of the hill to risk a crouching run O'Neill cursed quietly to himself and scoured the vicinity for natural protection and alternative hiding places. As far as he could see there were no natural outcrops, or man-made defences, which would offer protection and the river appeared to curve away from the stargate failing to offer an alternative path to their only escape route. Behind him he heard the sound of running feet.

"Kree!"

The shout went up and O'Neill knew he had been spotted. Turning his P90 in the direction of the Imperial Guard the colonel let out a burst of fire taking one of the jaffa out instantly. Surprised by the attack the jaffa scattered, two staff weapons pointed in his direction and fired almost in unison. O'Neill threw himself into a diving roll to the right landing in a bed of rushes at the edge of the river feeling the blast intended for him hitting river's edge, spraying him with sand and stone. The river roared behind him running fast and deep to the waterfall a little less than a click away. There would be barely enough time to swim to the side before he went over the edge, but that was better than death by staff weapon.

Letting out a second round of fire in the direction of the jaffa O'Neill scrambled to his feet, battling against the mud that was sucking him to the floor. Taking his eye off his attackers for a fraction of a second the colonel prepared to throw himself to the mercy of the river, bending his knees and jumping with all his strength. The mud, however, refused to yield and the colonel felt his knee dislocate and collapse under him throwing him into the bank of the river. Yelling out in pain, the last thing O'Neill saw was the reverse end of the staff weapon hitting him hard between his eyes.