FHtA: Sam, Lies and Videotape pt. 3 – Worth a Thousand Words

Disclaimer: I own none of these lovely characters. I'm pretty sure I couldn't even afford the ones I made up.

Warning! Spoilers for Paradise Lost, Season Six.

The timeline shifts in this a bit, but I hope it makes sense. There's also my first action scene and I hope it comes out – PLEASE REVIEW and tell me if it was okay.

Author's Notes, as usual, afterwards.

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Audiovisual Monitoring Room

Grand Canyon National Park Administration Offices

Downtime Day 11, 5:32 a.m.

The video monitors in front of Col. Jack O'Neill, Jonas Quinn, 'Tio Murray', FBI Agents Anderson and Tapping and Ranger Alvarez were synced to a single feed from the surveillance system. The tape held the last known sighting of Major Samantha Carter. Barely three hours had passed since Teal'c and Jonas Quinn had first seen the footage; they'd made copies for the FBI (and SGC – it was on its way to Colorado before the Feds got there to object) and drawn their own conclusions as to their friend's fate. Colonel O'Neill had carpooled from the motel with the FBI agents and theoretically knew only as much as they did. But Teal'c and Jonas were his teammates and he could see the news on their faces. All that they'd accomplish here would be an official declaration that Carter was in trouble. Now, less than an hour before dawn and the canyon search's resumption, the investigators were assembled to see where this evidence would lead.

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Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

North Rim, Parking Lot 5C

Downtime Day 5, Late Afternoon

God, but this place was beautiful! Major Samantha Carter, USAF, stared out past her sunglasses into one of the natural wonders of the world. No matter how many times she came here, it never failed to fill her with awe. The reds, ochres, browns, taupe and black of these steep canyon walls told the history of the Earth itself. Not the human race or the Ancients or any other civilization that had walked its surface, but the actual formation of this piece of the world and its gradual dissolution. It took her breath away. Standing on the rim of the canyon she felt like an ant in the presence of giants, almost like she had when she first saw the Stargate.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she remembered the first time she'd seen the approach to the canyon from the sticky backseat of the family station wagon. She'd been six years old and even the thrill of a 'girls weekend' with her mom hadn't kept her from wearing out 'are we there yet' hours ago. She'd expected mountains or hills or some sign that they were getting near the immense rift her mother had described, but suddenly they were just… there. Flat, arid plains gave out onto the hugest hole she'd ever seen. And once her oddly brilliant mother had explained how rock striations were like an x-ray into the Earth's bones and the story of those bones over time, she'd been hooked on the majestic grace of this enormous tribute to the power of wind and water. This place was one of the things that she fought for when she fought for the survival of Earth.

Lately, she confessed to herself, she'd had moments wondering just what the hell she was saving, anyway. It was hard to feel triumphant coming home to an empty house after she'd worn herself to the bone to save the Earth again. Or, you know, to save her team. She sighed a little and shifted to watch the lengthening shadows on the canyon floor. Somewhere in the last few months, she'd started feeling the acid discontent of burnout like a persistent stomachache. It had been a difficult and busy year; even her team's attempts at vacation turned into a political/criminal conspiracy or an aliens-among-us crisis.

Usually when the feeling that 'there has to be more to life than this' started to grow, she and Daniel would decide during one of their late night/early morning coffee breaks to take the next evening off and have their very own 'science twin' night. They'd watch some movie that one or the other wanted to see or thought they'd get a kick out of mocking – making Daniel see the remake of The Mummy was one of the better ideas she'd had – while eating take out and throwing popcorn at Sam's big screen TV. She'd mix Daniel some fruity alcoholic concoction complete with a little umbrella or he'd choose 7 or 8 different ice cream toppings and demand that she eat one of the famous Jackson banana splits.

Eventually they'd get drunk or sugar-high enough to tell deep dark secrets. Daniel was the only teammate who knew just exactly how she'd learned to pick locks, shoot pool and ride motorcycles as a teenager. She was equally sure she was the only person in the SGC who knew that he was a licensed massage therapist in the State of California and had used it to pay for his extras in college. They'd take a night off to enjoy life on the planet they were saving and go back to their labs the next day with zipped lips and a renewed zeal for the job. But now that Daniel was… gone… she had no one to ward off the blues with.

She sighed and closed her eyes, savoring a rich, dry breeze blowing over the canyon. It wasn't like she was alone. Teal'c had tried so hard to look out for her this last month. Whether he'd seen some small sign that put him on alert or just heard the tone of her voice when she told SG-1 their CO had vanished in the company of Maybourne, he'd stayed near her the whole time the colonel was missing. He would set up his meditation candles near her work site or bring her food she didn't really want to eat with a raised eyebrow that dared her to deny him. He didn't hang out in her lab because Jaffa didn't really 'hang out' much, but he would find a way to help with her projects or occupy a corner of the room with his own investigations. As much as she'd been fixated on finding and rescuing the colonel, she couldn't help but appreciate Teal'c's shoulder to cry on. Literally and metaphorically.

And Jonas had been helpful in his own way. She'd been sincere a few weeks ago when she told him that he was a full fledged member of SG-1 and doing a good job at it. He'd pored over the archives of every dig that Maybourne had had access to, searching for pictures or notes on the mysterious 'key' that had vanished with the colonels. He'd even ganged up with Teal'c to drag her to the gym occasionally so she could help teach the klutzy Kelownan to spar - and thereby get some of her frustration out. The rest of the time he'd left her alone. Keeping his distance was not Jonas' natural tendency, so she appreciated his sensitivity all the more.

Janet had dragged her bodily off base a night or two a week with the excuse that Cassie was worried about Jack and wanted to see Sam and Teal'c to make sure the rest of SG-1 was still okay. Whether or not the teenager actually wanted to make time in her busy social schedule was less clear, but Sam had to appreciate their efforts to distract her. At least Janet had refrained from sedating Sam or slipping Valium into her coffee as she had threatened to do somewhere in week three. The major had to give a wry grin as she thought of Janet conspiring with her other guardian angels on the care and feeding of one super stressed Samantha Carter.

Honestly, she supposed she should've taken this impending case of blah to Janet and seen what her best female friend could do to help. But that meant confessing her mental state to the base's CMO, who had a duty to report any instability to the dreaded Dr. Mackenzie. Janet was still her best friend and would never narc on her if given a choice, but there were things her planet bound sister-in-arms just didn't get about the joys and panic of being part of a front line team. Sam was desperate to get her team member back above and beyond any personal feelings she may have – may have, right, Janet knew her better than that – may have brought to the search.

Sam sighed. She'd not only missed Colonel O'Neill, she'd missed Colonel O'Neill. She was flattered that General Hammond would want her to lead SG-1 and it wasn't a huge surprise. What had come as a shock to Sam was how little she wanted it if it meant she didn't have the colonel's leadership to rely on in the field anymore. As much as she hated some of the orders he'd given her – betraying the Replicator Fifth, setting a naqahdah reactor to overload and take out one of the two civilizations trying to colonize the same planet and dozens of other, smaller examples – she'd had faith that O'Neill knew what he was doing. He and Teal'c had her back while she went off into a scientific trance and let her curiosity take her in unimaginable directions. She wanted her own command, was confident that she could handle her own command, was probably overdue for her own command… but some part of her was grateful that in the end she could just be 'following orders'. And this wasn't the way she wanted to get to be CO of an offworld team. Learning that she was on the short list of candidates to head SG-1 was much less of a thrill than she thought it'd be.

And that brought up a whole 'nother can of worms. All her life she'd had a dream of perfection for her career, her family and her romantic relationships - yes, Virginia, feminists can want the fairy tale. Her wry smile remembered coming up with that phrase on a girls' night out. She wanted a fabulous and fulfilling career complete with the respect of her military and academic peers, but she also wanted the white picket fence with a dog in the yard, 3 or 4 kids, a yummy, intelligent, honorable husband who respected her and her work, and eventually retirement as General Carter. Simple, right? Now she knew that she didn't want that last part if she had to climb the chain of command over the bodies of people she loved. And maybe that was melodramatic, but she'd had quite a bit of drama this last year - it just seemed to follow her path.

The path she was currently on would lead to a fabulous fulfilling career complete with interstellar respect and fear, yes. She would continue on as part of the flagship first contact team for her planet, which was an honor and a privilege and sometimes a terror – plus the funny dresses, can't forget the funny dresses. She didn't regret all the time and adventure she'd put into her career, which she wouldn't give up for anything. Well, almost anything. Okay, almost anyone. And maybe she'd even find a man to share her life with before the alarm on her biological clock got too loud to be ignored. But not if she kept crying for the moon, throwing herself heart and soul into her work and after a man too emotionally constipated to meet her halfway. Not if she kept her personal life on pause, holding herself isolated while waiting for a day that might never come!

Sam fisted her hands in her hair and gave a gentle, frustrated yank. Man, she needed a vacation! She never had been too good at this relaxation thing and apparently it didn't matter if it were equations or personal relationships that made her mind spin off in mad directions. She just thought too damn much. She closed her eyes and tried to clear her mind of all the distractions that capered through her consciousness.

The breeze picked up and caressed her frown with gentle gusts of comfort. It almost felt like a friend's hand stroking her tense cheeks until they relaxed into a mask of peace. She breathed out again and tried to find that rock solid sense of herself she relied on. This was a place to release her burdens, not pick them up and show them off. Her mother had told her on their first trip here that no matter how difficult her life got, she never had enough trouble to fill the canyon. So she liked to come here every couple of years and dump her problems over the edge. She and Sam had held their cupped hands over the cliff on this very spot and poured their grief and distress after her brother's long illness into the canyon and out of their lives. Sam smiled with her eyes still closed and repeated the long abandoned gesture. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was the point of her journey to see Mark and his family – a time away from her usual life to renew her energy and enthusiasm for the parts of her life she loved.

Sam opened her eyes just in time to catch the edge of sunset sinking shadows into the canyon. It almost looked like the darkness of her thoughts was pouring into the hollows and depths before her. She reminded herself to get up in time to see sunrise and feel the darkness evaporate in the intense light of a new day. She would have to remember to tell Meg and Jessica about this once she got to San Diego. After all, it was a Carter woman tradition. Sam's tender grin lit her face as she turned towards the parking lot and the business of setting up camp. Her thoughts spun lightly over making this a yearly happening with the women in her family. She couldn't have realized that it would be years before she was able to return.

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Audiovisual Monitoring Room

Grand Canyon National Park Administration Offices

Downtime Day 11, 5:57 a.m.

Agent Michael Tapping of the FBI drummed his fingers on the side of his monitor, ignoring the dirty looks he got from the colonel and the big black guy. The victim, Samantha Carter, had arrived at the parking lot and gone down to the scenic outlook. Now they were watching… nothing. No changes had occurred in the parking lot in the last ten minutes and he desperately wanted the remote control. Before he could figure a way to wrestle it from CrewCutKid's hands, his partner spoke.

"Mr. Murray?" Anderson asked politely, her voice just a bit impatient.

"I would prefer that you call me… Tio, AgentAnderson," the big guy rumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the tape, so something must be coming up soon.

"Tio, then. And I'm Chris," she was still polite but obviously annoyed at the niceties they had to observe. "Could you tell me, Tio, when the next event on the tape takes place? I assume we're not going to watch the parking lot in real time for the next few hours."

"Indeed. Continue to watch for… two minutes and thirty-seven seconds." His deadpan voice gave no hint of irony, although the remark would be scathingly sarcastic from anyone else's mouth. Tapping saw his partner clench her teeth and nod.

"As much as all this … nothing is fascinating, is there a reason we're still watching it? How long after that do we see what happened to Carter?" O'Neill interjected. Tapping would've bet money that the colonel was the first to break the silence of concentration that hung over the whole room, but he seemed subdued this morning. Whether it was sleep deprivation or something else, Tapping couldn't know. Presumably they were all in the dark except for CrewCut and 'Tio', but the frown line bisecting the colonel's forehead was abyssally deep this morning.

"Please observe the next moments carefully. JonasQuinn and I have taken all the information we can from this sequence, but we wish to confirm our opinions. The tape is no longer than an hour, but we believe that most of those images can be fast-forwarded. Have you not found that careful observation prevents foolish assumptions, O'Neill?" The colonel gaped at his counterpart for a moment before snapping his jaw shut and giving a tight nod. Tapping inwardly applauded the intra-observer smackdown. Take that, O'Neill!

Suddenly, a light silver van pulled into camera range and backed into the spot behind Major Carter's car. From the camera's perspective you had to watch the doors of the van through the windows of the victim's SUV. And he watched. And watched. And stated the obvious.

"Uh, nothing's happening."

"Precisely!" CrewCutKid agreed. Tapping, Anderson and O'Neill exchanged wary, puzzled glances.

"Okay, I'm confused," the colonel admitted.

Ranger Alvarez, surprisingly enough, answered the question. "Well, why is that the case? Most people who come to the park get out of their cars ASAP and look around. Whether it's a campsite or an overlook, people don't just sit there unless the temperature's freezing or boiling."

Tio looked pleased. "Indeed. This lack of motion appeared significant to JonasQuinn and I. We hoped you could compile the details of this automobile beyond the license plate. That we have already." His head tilted towards a notebook between his monitor and the colonel's. "I believe you call it the 'make and model'?"

Anderson gave the guy an odd look. "Indeed," she echoed, as if he had suddenly become a puzzle. She cocked her head at the tape and muttered, "Chevy conversion van, 2003, no side windows behind the doors, extra tint on the inset windows, front windows and windshield tinted to the legal limit, standard configuration with no extension to the body. Light silver, standard hubcaps, no commercial or personal markings, no obvious damage."

O'Neill raised his scarred eyebrow and Anderson flushed. "What?" she defended. "I like cars. You can tell a lot about a person by their car."

"Like what?" CrewCutKid burst in, his sorrowful expression giving way to a puppy's insatiable curiosity.

"First, is there anything else we need to see before Sa- Major Carter comes back to her car?" Tapping's antennae rose at the unintended slip. Did Anderson just call the victim by her first name?

"No. Well, except that the people in the van stay there until she gets back." Jonas' bright eyes fixed on Anderson's slight frown and rested there. Even Tio looked mildly interested, which was about the extent of expression Tapping had seen on his face so far.

"Okay," Anderson breathed, her eyes silently asking Tapping to continue watching the tape. He nodded but kept his ears open; he wanted to know what other clues his partner might accidentally drop. "Well, vans with no side windows tend to be commercial vehicles. Private owners almost always get as many windows as they can. The lack of extension cuts down on its commercial applications, though. And it has no logo on the side identifying a business. Plus the standard hubcaps imply but don't prove that it's not used for heavy hauling. If it were an outdoor use vehicle for this area it would probably have better off road tires. Those looked normal from what I can see. Um, Ranger Alvarez? Can you get me a detail shot of the tires as well as the windows? And of course we'll need the best images you can get of any activity in the van, although I don't see any now." He nodded and she continued. "The last thing to note - well, two things really: one, there's no damage we could trace to an accident report; two, the tinting suggests that the owner wants privacy for himself or his passengers but not enough to apply for a waiver to the tinting laws. Bottom line? The vehicle is suspicious in this context and the license plates may be stolen or the tag information may be falsified. I wouldn't be surprised to find that it's a missing fleet vehicle from some corporate car lot."

"Or government agency," Tapping muttered without taking his eyes from the TV screen. O'Neill and the others studiously ignored him.

"Oh," CrewCut said, sounding impressed.

"Indeed," Tio concurred. Tapping could hear him shifting in his seat and then the video feed went blurry as it began to fast forward. As advertised, approximately forty minutes further into the recording the image settled again. They all leaned in to catch the next event.

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Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona

North Rim, Parking Lot 5C

Downtime Day 5, Just Before Sunset

Sam hiked up the trail and onto the concrete stairs to the mostly empty parking lot. It didn't look much different except for a silver van parked next to her SUV. It was parked backwards so that the passenger's side faced her car, which was a bit odd but not worrisome. She was halfway to her car when the doors opened and her neighbors got out.

Two brunettes, one her height and one a bit shorter, clambered out of the side exit chattering about catching the sunset. The driver also emerged, his bulky frame stretching out road kinks as he wandered towards the trailhead. Sam smiled a cheerful greeting to him and made her way to the back of her vehicle. She almost made it there before she was waylaid by the two women.

"Hey, excuse me?" the taller one said, coming between Sam and the van.

"Yeah?"

"Would you happen to have a map of the park? We had one when we started this morning but it's escaped," she smiled wryly.

Sam laughed a bit. "Yeah, sure. Hang on a minute." She rummaged in the driver's side door and carried her new map to the tail gate.

"Oh, hey. Thanks…"

"Samantha."

"Samantha. I'm Amy and this is Alice." The taller woman gestured to a shorter one to her side and they exchanged polite nods. "Could you show us where we are now? I know our campsite is on the North Rim near one of the middle entrances, but I got all turned around on the way in."

"That's the last time you get to be navigator," Alice muttered, fingering her oversize purse as Sam put the tailgate down and spread out her map.

"Oh, yeah? Well who forgot to get a second map at the last pit stop?" Amy shot back playfully.

"I still think the first's tucked in with your CDs."

"I told you I looked already!" Amy frowned.

Sam cut in before they could go another round. "Here's the scenic outlook point, here. That's where we are. The middle entrances are overrrrrr…" Sam traced her finger over the paper, and then stabbed, "there!"

"Hah!" Amy crowed. "We weren't that far off. See?"

"Are you two done arguing yet?" The bulky man from the driver's seat had circled around and come to rest about ten feet away from the women on the opposite side of Sam. "I'm really sorry, Miss…"

"Carter. Samantha Carter. And it's no problem." Sam faced him and smiled, although a tiny tingle in the back of her neck had her suddenly alert. Her spidey sense was not liking this situation all of a sudden, or maybe the approach of an unknown guy almost as big and built as Teal'c was setting off some single-woman-traveling-alone radar. She eased back towards the women but settled as he made no move to get closer.

"Well, I appreciate it," he smiled reassuringly. "Amy and Alice are great company alone, but put them in a van for a few hours and you have the makings of a migraine. That's the problem with sisters."

"Are you all related?" Sam didn't really see it besides the common dark hair. This guy was shaped like a tank while the women were slim and fit.

"Yeah. Amy and Alice are sisters and I'm their half-brother. Same father, different mothers. We grew up taking a vacation every summer and just kind of kept the tradition. We make it a rule every year that we have to decide on the next place before we leave this one. Usually it's in June, but this was the only week we could all get off. Alice is getting married in July and she and Amy are going to be crazy with that for a few months." He babbled eagerly, smiling at her. Sam got the vague sense that he was trying to keep her attention focused specifically toward him, and not in the flirty sense.

Sam's spidey sense tingled more forcefully behind her and she started to turn back to the women with a question on her lips. Amy had come up fairly close behind Sam, blocking her view of Alice, who was bending over her bag. "Are you through with the map?"

"Please say yes. Please say yes," the bulky guy joked from a spot much closer to her back than he had been. Sam cut her eyes toward him but ignored the increased tingling in her nape. Amy was now just out of arm's reach.

"Almost," Amy replied, shifting her weight to keep Alice from Sam's view.

"About time!" the man snarled, his voice going cold. He sounded almost as close to her as Amy, as if they had her purposefully bracketed.

Sam didn't wait for the attack she'd been subconsciously expecting for the last few seconds. She snapped her leg back and caught the stunned guy in the solar plexus. As he toppled forward she brought her forearm into his throat, using his momentum against him. He went down gasping and she turned her attention to the women.

"HEY!" Amy yelled, still keeping her cover. She shifted towards the back of the SUV, exposing Sam to the lunge of a rag and bottle bearing Alice.

Sam smoothly stepped into the lunge, throwing an elbow at the unprotected side of Amy's head on the way by. She caught the tall brunette perfectly, clipping the soft area of exposed temple with the bony point of her elbow. Amy went down, clearly expecting Sam to try to run from Alice rather than charge her. Sam feinted left away from Alice's rag bearing hands, whirling to avoid the woman's high block that left her other side exposed to Sam's fist. The digital camera swinging from Sam's wrist made another impact on Alice's side with the force of her hand plus the whiplash of the carrying strap. Her opponent's eyes went wide for a second, then narrowed in anger. Sam kept her guard up and listened for the sounds of 'Bulky' or Amy recovering while her eyes stayed pinned to Alice, who had dropped her rag in favor of the open bottle and her large purse.

Alice choked up on the long straps of her bag and whirled it in a circle beside her body. Sam could see that there were several heavy things inside, though none looked like a weapon. Of course, a fully loaded purse on a short string like that could be a weapon in its own right. She dodged carefully back as the two women began to circle away from the SUV.

"Who are you!" Sam demanded, trying to catch her opponent's fighting style from the way they circled. "What do you want with me?"

The brunette didn't answer, although a smirk crept onto her face. Sam took the momentary distraction to kick at the offending purse and punch low to the other woman's ribs. Alice had been expecting something like this, so she just grunted and threw the contents of the bottle in Sam's face with her other hand as the major's body closed in to make contact. Sam dodged most of the slinging liquid at the cost of a hefty splash of it on her chest and a follow up punch to her stomach as Alice's empty fist came down. She'd never been so grateful for sit-ups in her entire life. The wall of muscle absorbed most of the blow, but the impact made her gasp and inhale the fumes rising from the damp patch on her shirt. She suddenly felt lightheaded and woozy, realizing that whatever that liquid was she needed it off her and fast.

Sam gathered herself again and danced beyond Alice's reach, forcing the smaller woman to commit herself first. Never taking her eyes off her assailant or her ears off the other two, Sam yanked the bottom of her tank top up and clumsily gathered the shirt around her neck as she held her breath. Alice's charge took advantage of any distraction on Sam's part as she stripped down to her bra and cast the fume-bearing shirt aside. As Alice approached her, fists upraised, Sam pulled a double feint right-left and ended up with an outstretched arm clenched in a fist. Her previous casual seeming footwork put her in a perfect place for a clothesline that knocked Alice literally for a loop, landing her on her back with the breath knocked out of her. Sam followed up with a ruthless heel strike to the side of the other woman's head that put her down for the count.

As Sam spun on her heels to check the other people she'd knocked silly, she silently thanked Teal'c for being irresistible. She remembered the source of her updated melee skills that might have just saved her hide. She advanced on a motionless Amy, who looked like she might have hit her head on Sam's tailgate on the way down.

A month before the mission to Maybourne's Moon, as the colonel insisted on calling it, Teal'c had made an unusual appearance at her lab. Teal'c rarely sat to chat, preferring to stand vigilant near whatever door was most likely to admit intruders. He took up his standard place and gazed at his teammate, only the tension of his shoulders indicating his discomfort.

"What's up?" Sam asked, studying his expression. It flickered between amusement and annoyance as he processed her idiom, then settled into that barely there frown of concern she'd noted before.

"MajorCarter, I believe that the SGC's physical training does not sufficiently emphasize tactics for use against multiple unarmed opponents."

"You think I can help you… correct that?" Sam let only a bit of her rampant curiosity leak into her voice. Not that she wasn't happy to be asked, but she doubted she was first on the Jaffa's list of able unarmed warriors.

"Indeed. I would appreciate your assistance in designing a program of study. JonasQuinn in particular could benefit from such training. Perhaps he will agree to help us as well."

Sam sat back and smiled in satisfaction. For all that Jonas was a full member of SG-1, the originals tended to treat him as a supernaturally intelligent overgrown puppy at times. The colonel was the most guilty of all, albeit mostly unconsciously. If Teal'c couched his request to Jonas in these terms and had Sam's cooperation, they could sneak some hand-to-hand combat practice into Jonas' daily routine without offending him or exposing him to more genuine O'Neill sarcasm.

"That sounds like a great idea, Teal'c. Why don't you pick a convenient time and I'll meet you and Jonas in the gym for… practical applications for the next few weeks."

Teal'c inclined his head in thanks and retreated. Their 'practical work sorting out elements of the curriculum' had gotten Jonas a lot closer to Teal'c's standard over the next few weeks, and he and Teal'c had even managed to drag her out once or twice while the colonel was missing. She wondered, not for the first time, which team member Teal'c was really trying to improve.

Suddenly, Sam felt strong arms around her middle heaving her into the air. Bulky must be a lot lighter on his feet than she assumed. Dammit, she'd forgotten one of the first rules of Teal'c's lessons: never lose track of an opponent. She wriggled in the guy's grip as he pulled her off an unconscious Amy and made his way towards the van and her now saturated tank top.

Just before he had to figure out how to keep her elevated and immobilized while leaning down to get the tank top fumes to her face, Sam wrenched her head backwards and her left foot back and up. The combined force of a head butt and a shot to the crotch gained her a tiny second of freedom. Sam twisted free of Bulky's grip as he bent double to clutch his aching… heads. Sam scanned the area manically and dashed towards her car, intending to call the police before she got the hell out of there. Just as she wrenched the passenger door open to grab her cell phone, her spidey sense went wild. She stumbled into a clumsy spin and found herself looking into the eyes of yet another woman. This one was smaller and sweeter looking, but something about her screamed "DANGER" to Sam's instincts.

The smaller-than-average woman took advantage of Sam's trapped position in between the van, her car and its open door. Sam cursed silently and kicked up a slightly bent leg, catching the woman in the chest and using her own momentum to cast her back against the van. The long haired woman barely acknowledged the hit before advancing again. Sam dodged wildly as the woman grabbed at Sam's torso and pinned her against the SUV. They wrestled frantically for dominance, Sam's panic giving her an adrenaline-charged strength to match the unexpectedly tough opponent. Still, that strength was offset by the spidey sense screaming in Sam's ear, making it hard to concentrate on her attacker. She heard Bulky swearing from the back of the car and knew she would have more than one person to worry about soon. She struggled and heaved, managing to buck the long-haired woman into the edge of the extended door. Impatiently, the other woman pulled a knife as she rebounded into the major and jabbed it into Sam's bare belly.

Sam gasped and curled into a ball of pain as the woman snatched the dagger back and cut her again. Sam's arms flew up to protect her face and stomach, but the woman seemed more interested in making lots of shallow cuts than going for Sam's gut or jugular. The fire of some substance on the blade blazed as it seeped into her wounds. It gave Sam the anger-driven adrenaline to ignore her yammering instincts and fake a run for it along the side of her car. Instead, once the other woman had shifted to intercept Sam, the major viciously struck the woman's knife arm and wrenched the weapon out of her suddenly loose grip. She sprang back towards the SUV as her stomach wound throbbed in protest. Sam forced the pain of her slashed belly into the same ignored area of her mind that held the sting of salty cuts.

Panting with suddenly shallow lungs, Sam could feel the poison on the blade rushing through her system. The blade hadn't punctured her lungs, she would've felt that, but they were close enough to her circulatory system to feel the burn now. The tall blonde lunged toward her former assailant with the knife and made several hits as the long-haired menace tried to dodge her. Sam was seeing red now, literally, as the haze of pain and poison made it to her brain. She could hardly move but she made a last heroic stumble into the woman's body and stabbed her as well. Just as everything went black, she heard an anguished scream like she'd never thought to hear on Earth. All she could think was "my spidey sense… no wonder".

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The tape continued in dead silence.

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To Be Continued…

Author's Note: Okay, I'd hoped to get to the guys' reactions this chapter, but it was a choice between leaving it here at a natural stopping point (and cliffhanger – mwahahahahaha) and posting today or going on and getting bogged down for another few weeks in a too long chapter. Hopefully it'll be sooner than that before I post again, since we're getting to the meat and potatoes of the mystery here and I have a plan. Not that my characters usually agree, but I have a plan. ;-)

Oh, and I'm using a non-standard but canon spelling of the mineral Goa'uld hosts have in their bloodstream. I know for sure that I saw this spelling (naqahdah) on a TV screen in a presentation Sam was giving in the briefing room. I think it was early in Season One. The usual spelling, naquadah, comes from the closed captions. I know, it's anal, but I'm trying to get all my factoids right.

Also, PLEASE REVIEW! SuperMuchoPsychadelic Thank Yous to the people who reviewed – it made me update way sooner than I planned. Tell me what you think, what you think will happen, what you think should happen and what you think I thought you were thinking… Yeah. Just hit the little bluish purple button, 'kay? ;-)