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PART TEN

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7:04am

The bugs rained down around them, vicious missiles aimed at no-one but trying to hit everyone. There was a thundering roar as the Cessna exploded somewhere in the distance, and a thick plume of smoke bruised the cornflower blue sky.

"CARTER!" Jack screamed, fighting through the undergrowth toward the burning aircraft. "Damn it, Carter, where the hell are you?"

"O'NEILL!"

"CARTER?"

"Here!"

It was Samuels, his chute wrapped around a tree and his legs dangling centimetres from the ground. "Get me down, sir!"

"Where's Carter?"

"West," Samuels grunted, wriggling in his harness.

A crashing behind Jack alerted him to Andrews' presence. "Cut him down, Andrews, and head west, toward the plane. We'll rendezvous there."

"I saw the gliders land, sir. There are four Jaffa on foot, headed this way."

"Good – are Maybourne and Walter securing the gliders?"

"I don't know," Andrews confessed.

Jack swore loudly, gripped his P-90 tightly and continued west, searching for her.

Cassandra's friend, Bek, had beaten him though. She was leaning over Carter, checking her pulse when he stumbled across them several minutes later. His blood turned cold – Carter wasn't moving.

"She's breathing," Bek announced, "but she's bleeding."

He checked her pulse anyway – it fluttered firmly beneath his fingers – and then checked her head wound. "Carter?" he said quietly, tapping her cheek gently. "Come on, Sam, open your eyes."

Nothing.

"Damn it, Carter, I knew I should have flown that plane. You always know better though," he grunted, running his hands across her ribs and limbs, checking for injuries. "What do you know about first aid?" he demanded, looking across at Bek.

"I've done a few courses," she said, "but I've never used it."

"Stay with her," Jack ordered. "Don't move her, and if she wakes up, don't let her move either."

"What about the J… bad guys?" she demanded worriedly.

"You've got a gun," Jack snapped, "use if they turn up. But they won't."

He'd no sooner spoken, than the sound of a staff weapon powering up echoed in his ears. "Kree!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he hissed, turning around slowly. "Kree yourself, asshole."

The Jaffa held the staff weapon trained on him, when a single gunshot sounded loudly. The Jaffa's legs buckled and he collapsed to the ground, revealing Andrews holding his P-90. "Samuels is on his way, sir, but he's hurt his leg pretty bad."

"Carter's in bad shape too," O'Neill muttered. "Thanks, by the way."

"No problem, sir."

"One down, three to go. Samuels, there you are. Stay with Carter and the girl. Andrews and I are going to secure those gliders."

An explosion cracked in the distance.

"Green smoke," Andrews called, "we're clear, sir. Maybourne and Walter must have gotten the other three."

O'Neill grinned with relief. "Yes," he cheered quietly. "Okay, Samuels, stay here. Wait until Davis turns up with the transport, and make sure Carter and the girls get back okay. Shit, where's Cassandra?"

"With Maybourne, probably," Bek said. "You grouped him with her."

"Wait," Samuels called as Jack turned to leave.

"What?"

"Who are you taking to Russia? You needed Carter for the gate electronics."

"I'll still take Walter, like we planned."

"What sort of electronics?" Bek asked. "I can do systems and programming."

Jack stared at her. "Do you have any idea about the technology?" he demanded.

"No," she admitted, "but I can help. I was helping Walter back at the shelter, and with Sam not going… I can take her place," she offered. "Please. I want to do this."

Jack hesitated. "Okay. You can fly with me, Walter can go with Maybourne in the second glider."

Samuels nodded. "Good luck, Colonel."

"Get my people home, Samuels," Jack ordered, looking at Carter still lying on the ground. "Come on, kid, let's go."

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8:19am

There was still a thin plume of smoke bleeding into the sky from the trees, and Paul Davis used it as his marker. The horses were uneasy, dancing sideways and fighting at the bit as he tried to guide them toward the area of destruction he was headed toward. Not much of a horseman, Paul didn't know what he would have done if Tom hadn't been with him.

"Not much further now, sir," Tom murmured, attempting to ease his own mount as it picked its way between the fallen bodies of the bugs that had tumbled out of the sky over an hour earlier.

"Thank god for that," Paul muttered.

The words had barely left his mouth when they found the people they were searching for. It took Paul a second to realise that Samantha Carter was lying unresponsive on the ground, and another two seconds to realise the two teenagers were both missing from the group he was supposed to take home.

"What's going on?" he demanded.

"The one girl, Bek, went with Colonel O'Neill," Samuels explained, stepping forward. "We don't know where Cassandra Fraiser is."

"Shit," Paul muttered. "Fraiser is going to kill us."

"She launched the EMP, sir," Andrews said. "I saw where it was launched from – maybe she's still waiting there."

"What direction?" Paul demanded.

"East of here, sir."

"How's Major Carter doing?"

"She hasn't woken up since she hit the ground," Andrews said. "We're not sure about the extent of her injuries, but her pulse is steady."

"Can you get her up on the horse with Tom?" Paul asked.

Samuel's face pulled into a grimace. "Oh god," he sighed, "I hate horses."

"I hate bugs more," Tom said cheerfully. "We've got two spares," he added.

"Samuels can take one, and Andrews can have the other. You take Carter with you, Tom, and I'll go find Cassandra."

"You want us to go now, sir?" Tom asked, frowning with disapproval.

"Yes. There's no knowing how long it will take before the next swarm comes, and as far as I'm aware we don't have another big EMP, only the smaller ones Carter rigged for us. We need to get back to that shelter ASAP."

"Yes, sir."

"And take care of Carter, otherwise the Goa'uld and the bugs will be the last thing on your mind when O'Neill gets back," Paul warned.

"Yes, sir!"

Leaving his men to get Carter onto the horse and start back to the shelter, Paul nudged his horse to the east and set off looking for Cassandra. The horse, irritated at leaving her friends, swished her tail irritably and pranced to the side, almost unseating Paul. He managed to hold on though and regain his balance, kicking his heels in annoyance. Snorting in resignation, the mare shook her head and let him guide her where he wanted her to go.

It took him twenty minutes to find Cassandra Fraiser, and when he did find her he felt something akin to grief stab at him. She was lying in the shade of a large tree, a pale hand clutched around the remote and an oozing wound on her calf, the flesh red and angry and accusing.

"Oh, god," he whispered, biting his lip.

---
Russia

His hands were sweating profusely as they clutched at the steering of the death glider, and Maybourne hoped to God he didn't crash the thing.

"How're you doing, Maybourne?" O'Neill asked through the Goa'uld communications device attached to his temple.

"Okay," Maybourne lied, his fingers tightening involuntarily around the controls.

"Take it easy. Have a look around," Jack said breezily.

Easy for him to say, Maybourne scowled, but it wasn't his first time flying a death glider, let alone taking a ride in one.

"We're almost there," Jack added, almost gently. "Just do what I tell you, Maybourne, and you'll be fine."

Maybourne refused to listen to the strangled gulp emitted by Walter behind him.

Five tense minutes later, his glider touched down with minimal bumping, and he climbed out of it hastily, followed closely by Walter.

"That was so cool!" Bek was enthusing, grinning, "I didn't know it was possible to overcome the-"

"Ah!" Jack snapped, holding his hand up. "I don't do technical. Now, is everyone good to go?" he asked as he snapped his P-90 into place.

They left the gliders where they'd landed them and carefully picked their way across the open field to the large stone warehouse which looked strikingly out of place.

"It isn't any prettier in the summertime," Jack muttered, lifting a set of binoculars to his eyes. "It looks clear."

"Should we move in?" Maybourne asked.

"Markhov said the building was clear," Jack pointed out. "We need to make contact."

"I'll go," Maybourne said. "I know the building better than you do."

"Check in if it hits the fan," Jack said brusquely. "I'll set down some surprises in case we get a problem."

"Be good," Maybourne muttered, and then stood up. "Blue if you're good to go, Jack."

"Got ya, Harry," Jack called after him in a low voice.

The area was quiet, Maybourne thought, but then this has always been a quiet place. Especially in the middle of winter with ice and snow and nothing moving for miles. He suppressed a slight shiver and flattened his body against the warehouse wall in relief, looking around him quickly. Nothing moved, but that didn't mean there wasn't anything out there.

He ran alongside the wall until he found the door, and listened intently for sounds from inside. Again, nothing. The door opened easily when he tried it, and he peered into the darkness before stepping inside and again flattening his body against the wall.

"Seems clear, Jack," he whispered, turning on his flashlight. "I'm going to look for Markhov."

"We'll move in to the entrance," Jack replied.

His footsteps echoed loudly through the empty room as he climbed the metal stairs, and the railings were cold and dusty when he brushed against them. There hadn't been anyone here for a long, long time, Maybourne mused.

There was a click, and Maybourne froze, holding his breath.

"Who are you?" a roughly accented voice asked.

"Dr. Markhov?" he responded.

"Who are you?" the voice demanded again.

"Harry Maybourne. I'm looking for Dr. Svetlana Markhov."

"Maybourne," the voice said. "I should have recognised you."

Markhov stepped out from behind the large pipe which had hidden her in its shadows, but she didn't lower her gun. "Svetlana," Maybourne smiled, "lovely to see you again."

"Where are Colonel O'Neill and Major Carter?"

"Carter's back in the US," Maybourne admitted, "she got hurt while we secured our transport. Jack's waiting for all-clear from me before he comes in."

He saw Svetlana frowning with doubt at his words. "That seems unlike Colonel O'Neill," she said cautiously.

"It does," Maybourne agreed. "But Jack's… Jack's not really up to running around playing hero at the moment, if you know what I mean."

"No, I do not know what you mean," Svetlana said bluntly.

"Are you alone here?" Maybourne asked.

The hand on the gun still at him tightened reflexively, and he suddenly realised just how on edge the woman was. "I'll get Jack, okay?" Maybourne cautioned. "Jack, do you read?"

"Loud and clear, Maybourne."

"I've found Dr. Markhov. She wants to see you. We're in the blue."

"We'll be there in two minutes. Oh, crap."

"What is it?" Maybourne demanded.

"We've got company, Maybourne."

"Shit."

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Nuclear Facility

It was barely midday, but it felt like years had passed. Janet sat outside on a rock overlooking the road, alert for any indications of not only the bugs, but of the people who had left before sunrise. There was no sign of either bugs or people however, and she felt her attention wandering. She would have liked to be working on the vaccine, but she was out of her depth and with Timothy taking a well earned break, there was nothing she could do.

Behind her, the large door to the underground facility was open a crack, ready for her to run behind and slam shut should the bugs make an appearance. Twisting on her seat, Janet let her eyes track over the empty buildings making the rest of the complex; tracing concrete pillars and gaping holes which had once been windows.

It was only then that she realised something. This was where Sam had brought Cassandra to die years ago, when they're first found her. This cold, empty place of concrete walls and thick doors. Shivering despite the warm sunlight, Janet wrapped her arms around her middle and stood up, ready to head back and see if there was anything she could continue with without the need of Timothy's supervision.

She'd made it back to the door when she heard noises in the distance. Cautiously pulling the door closed and leaving herself a small crack to peer through, she watched as a group on horseback appeared in her line of sight. A flicker of relief rippled through her, and she pushed the door open to greet them.

"Dr. Fraiser!" Samuels called, catching sight of her. "We need your help."

She saw Sam a second later, unconscious in his arms.

"Oh God," she whispered. "What happened?"

"She had a bad landing. There were too many trees; she's got a head injury," one of the men Paul Davis had arrived with called out. Andrews, Janet thought, his name was Andrews. "I think she has a few broken ribs too, but I can't find any sign of anything else."

"You have medical training?" she asked, running out to help Andrews as he jumped down from his horse and started getting Sam down off another horse.

"Field," he grunted, taking her friend's dead weight in his arms "Shit, she doesn't look this heavy," he muttered, carrying Sam toward the entrance.

"What do we do with the horses?" Tom asked, still seating on his horse.

"Bring them in," Janet said. "They can't stay out here, we might need them."

She caught sight of Samuels grimacing in distaste, and forced herself to hide a smile of amusement. The smile died when she realised neither Cassandra nor Bek were with the group. "Where's Cassandra?" she demanded.

The sudden quiet in the small group turned her insides cold with fear.

"Samuels?"

"We're not sure. Paul Davis went to get her, but we haven't seen him since he left to get her."

"Fuck," Janet hissed.

"He'll find her, Dr. Fraiser," Tom said gently. "He likes Cassandra; I don't think he'd have let anything happen to her." Janet swallowed. "Go help Major Carter," he said gently.

She nodded, and disappeared inside the building, following Andrews as he carried Sam to their makeshift infirmary.

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