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PART THREE
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Washington DC
They had almost gotten away with it. So. Fucking. Close. And then his cell phone had rung. Loudly. In the middle of the reception. And of course one of the guards whom he'd fed the 'mutant bugs from hell' crap to (despite that fact that most of it was, in actuality, true) just had to be standing there.
"Hey!" the guard had yelled.
"Run!" Maybourne had ordered, reaching for his hand gun.
"Where to?" was grunted in return as they broke out of the building and into the hot sunlight.
"My truck! There!" He pointed with the gun.
"Fuck you… Maybourne… that's my truck!" O'Neill wheezed
"Was!" Maybourne panted gleefully. "You're dead, remember?"
"Apparently not!" O'Neill muttered as they clambered into his truck.
Maybourne revved the engine and crunched the truck into gear, spinning the tires on the loose gravel scattered across the road. The chase was half-hearted though, and the guard only jogged after the truck to the entranceway, already holstering his weapon before Maybourne even left the car park.
O'Neill coughed loudly next to him, and Maybourne cast a concerned glance over the man now slumping in his seat with a slight sheen of sweat dotting his forehead.
"You okay, Jack?"
O'Neill opened one eye. "What the fuck is going on, Maybourne?" he demanded hoarsely.
"We hit a snag," Maybourne admitted. "Here, take this." He slipped his cell phone out of his pocket and threw it to O'Neill. "Ring the number that called us and almost got us killed."
"Who is it?" O'Neill demanded, fumbling with the small object.
"Samuels. He's the only one with this number."
O'Neill coughed. "Sparky!"
"Yeah, I think that's what you called him."
O'Neill shut the phone with a snap. "I'm not calling anyone until you tell me exactly what is going on!"
Maybourne ground his teeth in frustration; O'Neill was just as ornery when he was 'dead' as when he was alive. Why couldn't the man just do as he was told for a change? "You're stubborn for a dead man, Jack."
"You'll be a dead man if you don't answer my questions," O'Neill threatened. But the words were hollow; O'Neill's laboured breathing betrayed his inability to follow through.
"I've got the gun this time, Jack, so cut the bullshit," Maybourne snapped, yanking on the wheel as a car swung into his lane. "Moron!" he yelled, banging on the horn. "This is ridiculous," he added, concentrating on the traffic.
"What is going on?" O'Neill asked again, also watching the traffic.
"Panic," Maybourne said simply. "They all think it's the end of the world because a bug's gotten out."
Despite his apparent weakness, O'Neill's gaze was anything but frail when Maybourne looked at him again. Maybourne sighed. "The NID screwed up, Jack, and we've got a problem. One that could destroy us this time."
"So why break me out?" O'Neill asked suspiciously, but Maybourne was pretty sure he already knew the answer.
"Because you've got the antibody, Jack. If we get you to Fraiser and Harlowe, chances are they can whip up a miracle cure a lot faster with your blood work."
O'Neill's eyes widened. "No," he said flatly.
"Jack, these bugs will wipe us all out!" Maybourne snapped. "Everyone, Jack, including Fraiser, and Carter, and everyone else you ever cared about."
"What?" O'Neill snapped, and Maybourne almost felt the energy that suddenly surged through O'Neill. "Who did you say?"
"Carter," Maybourne repeated. And then, gently, "She's alive, Jack, and I'm taking you to her. If you help us."
The silence in the car was broken by the sound of the cell phone clicking open in O'Neill's hands. "Prove it," he whispered, but Maybourne knew he'd already won.
"You'll have to ask Samuels. But I know he doesn't like her, so he's likely to have her locked up in a cell again," Maybourne admitted.
O'Neill swore violently beneath his breath as Maybourne jerked the wheel again to avoid another near collision, dropping the phone at his feet.
"Call Samuels and let him know I have you," Maybourne instructed as O'Neill struggled to retrieve the small object, "and find out what the fuck he was doing, trying to call me before I was ready!"
O'Neill nodded, and the synthesised tones of the cell phone stretched across the air between them.
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Washington DC
"Cass, where exactly are we going?" Bek demanded, her hands white-knuckled as she braced herself on the dashboard.
"Shit!" Cass hissed, swerving and stepping heavily on the brake. The small Volvo squealed to a stop, and she peered through the windscreen with wide eyes. "We'll never make it at this rate!" she cried, slapping her hands on the wheel in frustration.
"Cass?" Bek asked again.
"Academy Airstrip," Cass answered, staring ahead and trying to find a gap in the traffic she could squeeze the Volvo into. "Mom said they'll get us on a flight to the Springs if we meet them at the Western Perimeter."
"Western Perimeter?" Bek repeated doubtfully, and Cass flushed slightly at the look.
"Yeah… It's not entirely an authorised flight," she admitted.
Bek's eyebrows rose a few centimetres, but she didn't comment on the fact. Instead, she looked past Cass and out of the window. "We are west of the airfield, Cass," Bek remarked. "It's across there; there's a track that leads right up to the fence," she added.
"Could we hike it in time?" Cass questioned doubtfully, glancing at her watch. "We have to be there by 8am."
"There's no way we'll drive there in time," Bek shrugged. "We might make it in twenty minutes, but that's optimistic."
"One chance to get out of here, Bek, that's all we've got. And it's either in this car, or on that plane," Cass pointed out. "If we leave the car, someone will most likely steal it."
Bek only hesitated for two seconds. "Okay, we go. Come on."
They grabbed their knapsacks, locked the car and wove across the traffic laden road, leaving the small Volvo abandoned on the side. The grass was long and the sun hot on their backs. Cassie swallowed roughly; this wasn't Hanka. Her Mom would save them. She had to save them.
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Nuclear Facility
"Maybourne's got him," Samuels announced, snapping the phone shut with an audible click. "They'll look out for Cassandra, Fraiser, but they won't wait for her. Traffic's bad, so she has a bit more time to get the perimeter," he said blandly before leaving the room.
"I hate that asshole," Janet spat viciously, raking her fingers through her hair.
"Stand in line." The vicious mutter went almost unheard, but Janet tensed and turned to face Sam who was still sitting on a chair, watching her with an indifferent expression carefully masking her face.
"Sam," Janet began.
"Not now, Janet," Sam shook her head, the light catching the fine strands of hair on her scalp.
"No, I have to tell you," Janet said firmly.
Sam's shadowed blue eyes met her gaze steadily, and a wave of guilt turned her saliva to bile in her mouth. "I… I knew you didn't do it," Janet whispered.
Did you do it, Sam?
How could you even ask me that?
Sam nodded silently, but she didn't respond.
"Sam?"
"It's over, Janet. Whether I did it or not, it doesn't matter. They still died, all of them." The words were as empty as Sam's gaze, and Janet shivered.
"I knew… I knew how much you cared abo-"
"No," Sam snapped viciously. "No, Janet."
Janet nodded, twisting her fingers awkwardly in the cotton of her shirt.
"You should go," Sam said softly, "Maybourne will be here soon with Teal'c, and you and Harlowe need to be ready."
Janet nodded again, and flicked her gaze over Sam once more. There was a small glimmer of understanding in Sam's eyes. A slight smile touched the corners of Janet's lips; it tasted bittersweet.
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Washington DC
"Bek, if we make it through this, make me exercise more often," Cass puffed, groaning as they staggered over several roots.
Bek only nodded, using the back of her already damp hand to try and wipe the moisture off her forehead. Her slick skin just spread the sweat and stuck her long strands of hair to her face. "There!" she gasped, pointing as they broke through the tree line and stumbled into the sunlight. 300m further, the sun glinted off a tall, sturdy metal fence lined with barbed wire. "What now?"
"Can you see anyone?" Cass asked, shielding her eyes and squinting along the fence line.
Bek copied her movements, sunspots dancing across her vision in the sudden brightness of the open sunshine. "No," she murmured, swallowing. Her mouth was dry and she was hot.
But Cass wouldn't give up; Bek had never known Cass to just give in. "Come on," Cass whispered, a fresh burst of energy gripping her as she took hold of Bek's slippery hand and pulled her forward.
"What are you doing?" Bek demanded, staggering across the open field behind Cassandra. "Cass!"
"There's still a chance, Bek," Cass muttered, her breathing already loud and laboured again. "If we see them at the plane already… Come on…"
"You're insane!" Bek hissed, running after Cassandra anyway. That's always the way it was, she mused silently – Cass led and Bek followed, despite the age differences.
"There!" The satisfaction and relief weren't even disguised on Cass' voice as she pointed. A vehicle bounced into a view; a dark green truck careening crazily through the long grass as it raced towards them alongside the fence. "Come on, Bek, it's them!"
Bek didn't even bother trying to ask how Cass knew it was them from this distance away, she just followed.
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Washington DC
"My truck!" Jack complained, wincing as the vehicle bounced over ruts and potholes hidden by the long grass.
"We'll get you another one, Jack," Maybourne promised carelessly, fighting with the wheel to keep the truck from crashing into the fence they were precariously close to. The side window scraped along the metal and cracked off, and Jack cursed violently.
"Relax, Jack!" Maybourne told him.
"Relax, Jack," Jack huffed, grunting as his head connected with the window next to him again. "Maybourne, are you trying to kill me?"
"Of course not," Maybourne scoffed.
"There! Maybourne, slow down!" he yelled, pointing. "Damn it, Maybourne, slow down or you'll hit her!"
"Relax!" Maybourne retorted again, but he cut the engine abruptly and the truck shuddered to a halt, pitching Jack forward again.
"Remind me never to drive with you again, Maybourne!" he muttered, fumbling with his seat belt. By the time he unbuckled himself and clambered out of the truck, there were two girls watching them, one staring in open disbelief. A smile broke out onto his face, and as the strength returned to his jellied limbs he stepped forwards, holding his arms out wide. "Cass!"
"Jack!" she shouted, and she was twelve again, launching herself at him and hugging him close. Hot and sticky and solid in his arms, she clung to him, her fingers digging into him as she pressed herself against him. "Jack!" she murmured again, her body shuddering against his.
"Shhh…" he crooned, stroking her hair and rocking her slightly. "I'm here, Cass, I'm right here."
"I thought.. the bomb… Sam… Oh… Jack," she stuttered incoherently, her fingers digging in deeper and creating a dull ache of pain in his tender flesh. But he didn't mind; it reminded him that he was real and that she was real and that this was real.
"As touching as this is, folks, we really don't have time." Maybourne's voice intruded harshly on their reunion.
Cassie pulled back, but they didn't let go of each other.
"What are you doing, Maybourne?" Jack asked warily as Maybourne produced a set of wire cutters.
"I'm a convicted felon, Jack, there's no way they'll just let me take a plane," he pointed out bluntly.
"What?" The young girl who Jack had completely forgotten about stepped into the middle of the conversation with the politeness of a dog biting an ankle. "A criminal?" she demanded. "Cass, who are these people?"
"This is Jack," Cassie announced firmly. Jack recognised the rebellious tone creeping into her voice. He remembered that tone well, and how it had driven both Fraiser and Carter insane.
"And him?" The girl pointed at Maybourne with a long, well manicured fingernail.
"That's Maybourne," Jack answered smoothly as Maybourne shot the girl a disdainful glance before turning back to the fence with his wire cutters. "And you are?"
"Bek," both girls stated together.
"She's my best friend, Jack," Cass added, "and I'm not leaving here behind." The defiance surprised him.
"I wouldn't ask you to," he pointed out.
"Jack," Maybourne hissed through clenched teeth, "this was not a part of the deal!"
"It is now!" Jack grinned. "You done yet?"
"Almost," Maybourne grunted. "Samuels is going to kill me," he added wearily.
"Screw Samuels," Jack said darkly.
"I'd rather not," Maybourne replied snidely. The piece of fencing clattered as it fell to the ground. "We're through."
"Lead on McDuff," Jack held and arm out, "this isn't my plan, remember, so you lead."
"What is the plan?" Bek asked once they had clambered through the fence and started jogging across the empty expanse of grassy fields towards the hangers in the distance.
"We get a plane and fly to Colorado," Maybourne answered.
"Easy," Bek commented, puffing slightly.
Sweat was rolling down Jack's forehead and each breath of the muggy air stuck to the lining of his lungs.
"Jack?" Cassie gasped next to him.
"I'm fine," he rasped, ignoring the cramping of his legs and abdominal muscles. "Haven't… been… running for… a while," he managed. Yeah, and being locked up didn't help matters either.
"Move it, Jack!" Maybourne ordered sharply.
Jack ground his teeth in silence, trying to keep up. His heart thundered in his ears, and an inky blackness was framing the edges of his visions with curling tendrils slowly seeping away his sight.
Someone grabbed his arm; Maybourne. "Come on, Jack," he groaned, tugging Jack's strangely heavy arm over his shoulders and wrapping his arm around Jack's waist. "Don't you dare get the wrong idea," he added.
"And here I thought… it was a… fantasy," Jack retorted, trying to breathe.
The hangers were closer, he realised with relief. Much closer.
"Jack?" Maybourne asked, slowing the pace slightly.
"Yeah?"
"You can fly a plane right?"
"Of course I can fly a plane," Jack snapped snidely, trying to catch his breath. "Air force, remember?"
"Good, because I can't."
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