A/N: Sorry this took so long to post. I've tried to find a beta, but this is a project... Hope you enjoy!
The search for the spy begins...
Chapter 7
Teal'c moved down the row of lockers, grabbing handles one by one and forcefully ripping them open. Several lockers were already broken open, some doors left hanging by only one hinge, and some completely torn off, thrown a few feet away. Daniel, his own eyes fogging up and refusing to focus time and again, realized that Teal'c was using the search to release some of his pent-up rage, so said nothing, but just continued with Sam to look through clothing, boxes, and other items Teal'c was scattering to the winds as he cleared out the lockers. Oh, God, Jack!
Daniel sympathized with Teal'c's rage. Even he would like to get a piece of this guy, when they found the spy. And no way would they not find him.
At his side, Sam threw another uniform across the room, crying out with a ragged voice, "This is taking too long!"
"The only other option is to start questioning everyone on the base," Daniel reasoned. "We're hoping someone will come forward with information, but at least this way we may find something to send us in the right direction. Reynolds has got SG-3 looking through the other quarters."
"Once we discover the identity of the spy, I assure you the interrogation will proceed quickly," Teal'c added, as he ripped another door off its hinges. "Very quickly."
While they searched, Colonel Black had the entirety of his command lined up in formation, standing at attention, in front of the hangars. He let them stand there for several minutes, while he looked pointedly up and down the ranks, allowing their tension to rise. He needed to give the search teams time enough to go through the lockers, and he needed to put enough pressure on the perpetrator and his or her friends that they would feel compelled to talk.
After several minutes he spoke, "Somebody standing right here is a traitor. Somebody helped a Goa'uld plant a recall device on one of our 302's, and sent not one, but two generals into harm's way. General O'Neill is dead, and General Darshkevich is being held prisoner, being tortured, or worse, by our enemy. We don't have time to mess around here, people! Somebody must have seen something. This is no time to protect your buddy! We are all in eminent danger of attack. If you've seen something suspicious, you need to report it - NOW!"
He paused, staring up and down the ranks again, looking for any movement, but seeing none. "All right then. Once you're dismissed, you're all restricted to quarters or duty stations only. Sergeant Major!"
Army Sergeant Major Andy Peyton, six-foot four and nothing but muscle, marched forward, turned sharp corner, till he was in front of his CO, another sharp corner to face him, came to attention and saluted. Black returned the salute, and instructed him, "Keep them out here until the search crews are finished. Then they are to return to their quarters or duty stations and get their gear, and prepare for battle. We're either going to stand and fight, or evac out of here."
"Yes, sir!" They exchanged salutes, and Peyton did an about face to look at the column while Black departed. "At ease!" he called, and as one, the column assumed the at ease position. "We're all going to be here for a while."
Darshkevich sat in one corner of the cell, watching O'Neill slowly walk back and forth along the bars. His brow wrinkled as he worried whether coming back from the dead via the sarcophagus left one in as good of health as reported, or if O'Neill were already showing symptoms of addiction. "Jack, why don't you take a break?"
O'Neill stopped and stared at Darshkevich as if he'd forgotten the man was there.
"Come, sit down," the Russian offered, patting the floor next to him.
Jack paused, and then took him up on his offer, sliding down the wall to sit next to the other general. After a few moments, he leaned close to Darshkevich's ear and spoke softly. "Look, Oleg, we need to find out if we have any support here. Sometimes there'll be a Tok'ra about, or maybe some of the free Jaffa. We need to start talking to these guys, see if we can fan the flames of doubt at any rate. Try not to get yourself hurt over it, just...sow the seeds."
Darshkevich snorted at the "not get yourself hurt" part. "Da, you set excellent example."
Jack leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Yeah, well, I have a reputation to uphold."
Darshkevich snorted again.
An hour later, SG-1, having found nothing, returned to the briefing room, where the generals were continuing to formulate their plans. The room turned quiet at their entrance, as all eyes took in their sorrowful faces.
Phillips spoke first, needing to get business matters out of the way. "What do you have to report?"
Teal'c answered for them, "Nothing of consequence has yet been discovered."
Phillips nodded. "We're sorry for the loss of O'Neill. We know that you served together many years."
Teal'c bowed slightly in acknowledgement, Daniel nodded, and Sam replied, "Thank you, sir."
"As the most senior SG team, we need your expertise here."
"Yes, sir," Sam replied. She and Daniel found seats next to each other at the table, Teal'c preferring to stand behind them.
"We need to know more about this enemy. Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel sighed, collecting his thoughts. "Onuris. Egyptian god of war." Daniel paused, his mouth dropping open and his face suddenly gone blank while his mind raced.
"Doctor Jackson?" Admiral Phillips asked with concern.
"That's it," Daniel stated softly, shaking his head, and bringing his hands up to wipe his eyes under his glasses. "I should have realized immediately."
Phillips looked to either side of the table, to D'Albe and MacMillan, both of whom had puzzled expressions on their faces.
"Realized what, Daniel?" Carter asked the question on all their minds.
"Onuris is the son of the sun god - Ra."
"Oh," Sam sat back and closed her eyes.
"It's a revenge thing. The myths say that Onuris 'hunted and slew' the killers of his father, the sun god. He's enacting the myth."
Sam's eyes popped open, and her head whipped around. "Daniel! That means he's after you next! It has nothing to do with IOA or the liaison."
The generals looked from one another, and suddenly they were all talking at once. Daniel waved at them, "Excuse me, excuse me!" The voices stopped, and all turned towards him.
"There's more, too. His host, the, uh, former Vice President, was no fan of SG-1, and in fact," he glanced at Sam, as if asking permission to continue, and saw her slight nod. "He and Jack - had words from time to time. I think it's fair to say Kinsey hated Jack. While he was a senator, Kinsey had oversight of the SGC. The Goa'uld has all Kinsey's knowledge, so he knows all about SG-1, the SGC...and Jack."
Phillips shifted uncomfortably in his seat, as did Takei and Lloyd. "So," replied the latter, "the host may have had it in for O'Neill just as well as did the Goa'uld. And now, his next target will be you."
Once again, O'Neill walked slowly back and forth along the cell entrance, continuing his perusal of their surroundings. The Jaffa guard on patrol of the cellblock paused in front of their cell, smirked, and called out to him. "Tau'ri! Stay back from the bars! There is no escape."
"Your god is no god, you know," O'Neill shot back tauntingly. "He is just a Tau'ri possessed by a parasite."
"You profane our god!"
"Profane? How's that? What makes you think he's a god, anyway?"
"Ha!" the guard smirked again. "He is powerful! "
"Powerful, ha!" Jack smirked back. "The Tau'ri have already killed many of the Goa'uld. They are not gods!"
"But they were not the one, true god, Onuris!"
"One true.… Tell me, haven't you ever seen your god injured? Seen him bleed?"
"Yes, but he is made whole again."
"Ye-ah, by the sarcophagus."
"Yes, because he is a god. And gods cannot die."
"Am I a god? I remember you - you were there. Onuris ordered you to use the sarcophagus to heal me."
For the first time, the guard did not reply, his face a frown.
"The sarcophagus will heal any Tau'ri. Onuris is no god."
With an angry frown, the guard turned with a "harrumph" and returned to walking his rounds of the cellblock.
Onuris stalked about his throne room, growing impatient. He had planned this moment for so long, his final revenge against the Tau'ri. After all this time, he had O'Neill, and soon would have Jackson. For where one went, the other was certain to follow. He would enjoy watching them suffer, for all eternity, as he revived them and made them pay again. They, who had murdered Ra, his father. And, if he could take down the Tau'ri military leadership along with them, so be it. With that thought, he turned to his throne, swept his cloak to one side and took his seat, a smile breaking across his face.
"Bring me O'Neill."
Walter Harriman thought it seemed like he had been in the briefing room for days with all these officers. He and Andy Peyton, being the senior enlisteds, were the only enlisted men in the room, aside from the SF's. It was with relief when he finally found an excuse to get up and get out. When a couple of the flag officers excused themselves for a "bio break", the rest of the assembly decided to get to their feet and stretch their legs a bit. Walter excused himself at that point, offering to go fetch a carafe of fresh coffee. As he left the briefing room, he spied a young female airman in the hall, looking about nervously, as if she were waiting for someone.
"Chief..." she called out, seeing Harriman. "Could I, uh, ask you something?"
Harriman followed her gaze, looking around himself as if expecting an alien to come through the walls. "I only have a minute. You need to make it quick."
"I think I may have, kind of, done something ... I mean I would never...I didn't know!"
"Whoa! What are you talking about?" he demanded, and then her meaning clicked. "Do you know something about the sabotage?"
"He told me it was a new Tok'ra sensor device. He said to wire it into the controls, because it tracked..." the airman leaned back against the wall, one hand pressed to her forehead. "It was me, wasn't it? God! But he's an officer! I just did what he told me. I didn't know I was doing anything wrong! How was I to know I couldn't trust him? Everybody knows he's a hero! He's so cool and..."
Chief Harriman just stared at her as she ranted, but then grabbed her by the shoulders to calm her down. "Who was it? He may still be passing information to the Goa'uld and endangering us all! We have to know now!"
The young woman looked around desperately. Just then the door to the briefing room opened, as another person exited. Both she and Harriman looked that direction. The airman did a double-take from Harriman, to the briefing room and back. She pointed, "Him! That pilot who's standing right there."
Harriman released her, running back into the room. Grabbing his sidearm from his holster, he caught Peyton's eye, and motioned to the SF's stationed just inside the door. He advanced on the man at the far wall. The officer turned to stare at him, a look of realization spreading over his face. The pilot began moving towards Walter and the door.
"Freeze!" Harriman shouted, bringing the weapon to bear. "He's the spy! Arrest him!"
Peyton and the SF's sprang forward, just as their quarry made a dash for the door, drawing his own sidearm as he ran.
"Halt or I'll fire!" Peyton shouted. He knew his threat was an empty one, however, as the room was full of general officers and their staffs, and he had no clear shot. But then the others' collective training set in and as one they all hit the floor, leaving only he, Walter, the SF's and the spy still standing.
The conference table was blocking the fugitive's path to the door and the officer made to jump over it, swinging his weapon around at Harriman who was closest to him. But the Chief was faster. A loud report resonated around the room as he fired a shot, and the attacker fell, hitting the table and then crumpling to the floor.
Teal'c was the first to get to the spy's body, checking for a pulse. "He is dead. It is a pity. I was looking forward to the interrogation."
The next few minutes were frantic, as the SGC personnel tried to gather as much information as they could. Teal'c and Carter, accompanied by Walter, took the young Air Force EW to another room to question her further, but it became quickly apparent that she had been duped. She cooperated fully with the questions, and they found there was no collusion with the spy. She knew nothing of his activities or of any contact he had with the Goa'uld.
SG-3 searched the pilot's quarters again, and supervised a more thorough search of the hangar, using all available personnel to search inch by inch. That search paid off when a Goa'uld communications device was found hidden behind a beam where no one would have noticed it. It was a perfect place to hide it, as no one would have questioned a pilot's presence in the hangar, and, if it had been found, it would never have been in the spy's quarters nor on his person. They surmised he could have easily picked it up to use, and later return it, without arousing suspicion at all.
After the briefing room was cleared, the Liaison members reassembled. Colonel Reynolds and Colonel Carter reported their findings, but, since the spy was dead, there was no way to get any further intel. Admiral Phillips sat at the head of the table, deep in thought, drumming his fingers against the table top in a manner reminiscent of someone else that brought a lump to Daniel's throat. He wondered if the man had picked that up from Jack. Finally, Phillips spoke.
"Very well, then. Let us assume there is no other spy, and our plans are no longer in danger of being relayed to Onuris. And we assume, too, that everything else to this point, has been compromised. I've an idea…." He looked around the room. "Has Robert Kinsey ever met any of you, or know what you look like?"
Chung replied first, "I met him once, during a diplomatic trip, in Beijing."
The others shook their heads. Sam spoke up "Of course, he's visited the SGC many times, and knows, or at least might recognize, anybody who works there, with the possible exception of anyone assigned in the past year or so."
Phillips resumed his drumming. MacMillan narrowed his eyes and asked," What are you thinking, Ian?"
Phillips fingers stopped. "Trojan horse. What if, perhaps, we appeared to capitulate... sent people over in the guise of being the liaison... Of course, if they were accompanied by an SG team, that would be logical. And Onuris would think we were playing into his hands if it were SG-1, since Dr. Jackson is most likely a target..."
"And then what?" Takei asked. "How would we get Darshkevich back? And is it worth sending the many people would we risk to rescue him? Perhaps it would be wiser to just evacuate."
"Aside from the rescue of Darshkevich, Onuris is a threat. We need to eliminate him. But, like warriors hiding in the horse, we need a hidden weapon," Phillips paused. "Do we have any of that symbiote poison here at Tango?"
Daniel, Sam and Teal'c exchanged shocked glances. "Sir, depending on how many Jaffa are present, using the poison..."
Phillips cut her off with a wave of the hand. "I understand. But how about a small amount? Just enough to make a difference?"
The room fell silent.
TBC
Author's note: So, how do you like letting Walter be the hero for once?? My salute to enlisted people, who are just as cool as officers, doncha know!
