A/N: Thank you ALL for sticking with my ridiculously slow pace of posting chapters to this story, and for the well-wishes and prayers. Yes, life has been insane of late, but your continued presence and support is invaluable to me.

One brief note about the timeline here. As noted in previous A/Ns, I've deviated slightly from show cannon due to the events of Reap, but I'm still referencing certain occurrences from season 8 which presumably happened in the background of my trilogy. Hope that doesn't confuse you too much.

Chapter 24

As the heavy door shut firmly behind his wife, Jack could feel a huge wave of relief wash over him. He'd managed to get her out the door without getting either of them shot – not an easy task when one needed to fool the world's greatest super-genius in order to do so. Better yet, Sam seemed to be on her way back home, which negated the danger of any possible plastic explosives set in her lab. Glancing down at the sinister figure crouched beneath his desk, he spoke calmly. "You can come out now."

Never lowering his weapon, the other man fairly slithered from his hiding spot, quickly positioning himself so that he stood nearly eye-to-eye with his quarry. "You have a lovely wife, General," he said with a suggestive leer.

Though Jack's blood pressure probably rose a few dozen points, his face betrayed nothing. "I tend to think so," he replied with deceptive mildness. "Of course, I find the fact that she can break a man's neck with the heel of her hand just as appealing as those darling little dimples of hers," he couldn't help adding. "But that's just me."

The intruder's only response was an unimpressed smirk. "Yes, well, too bad she's not available at the moment," he said sarcastically. "Apparently, you'll need to find a way out of this situation by yourself."

Jack shrugged. "Seems that way." Secure in the knowledge that Sam was safely on her way home, the tightness in his gut had all but evaporated. He stared evenly at the sinister figure, thoroughly unimpressed with his captor.

Somehow, the other man sensed the shift in Jack's mood. Not liking the vibes he was picking up, he shifted his gun purposefully. "Well, General, if you're not going to help me, there isn't much point in keeping you alive."

Tilting his head slightly, Jack's gaze didn't waver even slightly. "I suppose not," he replied calmly. "Of course, for your sake, I sincerely hope you brought a silencer for that thing," he said, pointing at the pistol. "One shot, and there are gonna be fifteen marines in here before you can say 'use of deadly force.'" Jack's smile didn't touch his eyes.

Looking slimy and unruffled, the other man reached into his pocket and produced a disk-shaped, alien-looking device. "Oh, I'm not worried about that," he said with exaggerated casualness. "All your marines will see is a dead stranger on the floor, and one very upset General O'Neill rushing to make sure his wife is okay."

As Jack examined the disks more closely, a sudden realization dawned.

Mimic devices.

This was undoubtedly the man who had slipped into Sam's lab and stolen the cylinder. His face was remarkably familiar, but Jack still hadn't put his finger on where he'd seen it before. Sighing inwardly, he wished he had Daniel's memory for faces. Or Teal'c's fancy mind-focusing tricks. Or—

Before Jack's thought could finish forming, absolute chaos erupted in his office. With absolutely no warning, the door burst open, releasing six heavily-armed marines into the tiny space in less than a heartbeat. Jack's combat instincts took over. Reflexively, he dropped to the floor and took cover in the exact spot where his captor had been hiding moments earlier.

The other man obviously did not have Jack's military experience. Before he'd even turned to point his weapon at the marines rushing him, a single zat shot sent the man falling in a heap to the ground. In moments, the soldiers had taken his pistol and pinned his twitching body to the floor.

Slowly, Jack pulled himself from under his desk and rose to his feet. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. One thing was certain. He might not have Daniel's memory or Teal'c's meditation tricks.

But he sure had one hell of a wife.

An hour later, Jack and the rest of SG-1 had assembled outside the brig. His former captor was now disarmed and securely held in custody. A search of his person had revealed two of the mimic devices, one set to an unremarkable and unfamiliar face, and one meant to duplicate Jack's likeness. Sam's initial examination of the devices had sent a ripple of excitement through the SGC's scientists. As far as she could tell, these devices were of significantly higher quality than any mimic device seen on Earth, excepting, of course, the original disks worn by the foothold aliens who had first brought them to the planet. Up to this point, replicas of the devices made at Area 51 had only succeeded in giving 3 to 6 minutes of disguise time. However, Sam had activated both of the newly obtained models for more than 20 minutes, and neither appeared to be losing their effectiveness even slightly.

"I have no idea how he's done this," Sam said grudgingly. "But I'd sure like to find out."

Jack smiled at her. "Well, here's your chance," he said cheerfully. "I'm sure he's got plenty to say."

Daniel looked grim. "I'd like to know who he is." His blue eyes flashed with intensity. "And what the hell he's done with that cylinder."

Teal'c placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Indeed," he agreed softly.

Apparently, that was all the encouragement Jack needed. Without another word, he nodded to the marine stationed outside the man's cell. The heavily armed soldier opened the door, letting the team step inside.

The man sitting handcuffed in the cell looked rumpled, but also intensely angry. His dark eyes flashed with rage behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "I won't tell you anything," he said defiantly. "You might as well shoot me now." The words, similar to Jack's own statements while being held at gunpoint, were laced with mocking sarcasm.

Jack tilted his head. "Okay," he agreed readily. Pulling his sidearm from its holster, he leveled the gun at the prisoner and started to squeeze the trigger.

When it became obvious to the man that no one was going to stop Jack from following through on his threat, he paled. "Wait!" he cried, "you can't just shoot me! I'm an American citizen!"

Jack continued to point the pistol steadily at the now-quaking man. "Well, make up your mind," he said, sounding somewhat irritated. "First you want me to shoot you, then you don't." Turning to Teal'c, he released a long-suffering sigh. "Prisoners nowadays," he commented in disgust.

The man seemed utterly horrified by Jack's blasé treatment of the situation. "I have rights!" he insisted vehemently.

Daniel sneered in a rather un-characteristic manner. "You think so?" His voice was cold and hard as nails. "Right now, you're locked in a cell under a mountain which holds a military base that most members of Congress don't know about. You were found carrying devices which have been purged from every known military and civilian record – after holding an Air Force General at gunpoint." Daniel's smile was thoroughly unpleasant. "Whatever rights you might have had were forfeit the moment you broke into this base and committed treason." His eyes blazed. "You do know that treason is punishable by death? And, given the nature of your crimes, I think it's fair to say no jury will ever hear your case."

If it was possible, the man's coloring had faded from pasty white to pale green. "None of you are fit to defend this world," he said, trying unsuccessfully to sound brave and defiant. "You're disgraceful."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes widened. "I know him!" she exclaimed. Pointing an accusing finger, she shook it at him vehemently. "That's Kevin Hartans!"

Jack snapped his fingers. "I knew I'd seen him before!" Turning to the man, his brown eyes flashed with annoyance. "You're the moron who helped the Trust steal our gate," he said darkly, waving his gun to emphasize his displeasure.

Hartkans looked more offended than terrified at Jack's comment. "I'm hardly a moron," he insisted. "I've got two Ph.D.s!"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Trust me," he said, gesturing toward his wife, "when Sam's in the room, anyone who's not an Asgard qualifies as a moron."

The scientist snapped his mouth shut, suddenly seeming to realize he'd been arguing with an armed former-special-forces agent about his educational background – which, ironically, did make him look like a moron.

Apparently growing tired of the conversation's slow pace, Daniel turned to Jack with a dark look. "Can we either find out what he knows or just shoot him and get it over with?"

Jack smiled evilly. "Sure thing, Danny." Turning to the prisoner, he inclined his head slightly. "So, Hartkans, what's it gonna be? Either spill the beans on where you took Carter's do-hickey, or kiss your sorry ass goodbye."

The man sputtered. "I have no idea what you're talking about. And even if I did, I'd hardly tell you."

Jack was about to raise his gun for another round of 'intimidate the bad guy' when a knock sounded at the door.

One eyebrow raised, Teal'c turned as the heavy iron door swung open, revealing a young airman. The soldier glanced uncertainly from Jack to Teal'c and back again.

"Can we help you?" In contrast to the tense mood in the cell, Teal'c's voice was polite and calm. Apparently glad to have someone to address, the airman saluted, handed the Jaffa a piece of paper, and left the cell immediately.

Looking unruffled, Teal'c unfolded the paper and scanned it quickly. "O'Neill," he said mildly, "it appears a contingent of marines have located Dr. Hartkans' research facility using the method outlined by your wife." His dark eyes glinted intensely as he continued. "The cylinder has been recovered."

Jack's face split into an even more sinister grin than it had been wearing earlier. "Hear that, Doc? Seems we don't need you anymore."

The doctor's eyes had widened comically. "But that's impossible!" he sputtered. "You're bluffing!"

Teal'c replied evenly. "Your laboratory is located at 454 Southport Boulevard. It is housed in a warehouse and disguised as a clearinghouse for used computer parts."

Apparently quite satisfied with the utter shock on his prisoner's face, Jack shook his head slowly at the man. "I told you," he said smugly, "when my wife is around, nobody else gets to look smart."

Ignoring Jack's barbs, Hartkans looked at Sam disbelievingly. "How did you know where to look?"

Sam shrugged. "The disks you carried emit a distinct energy signature. It wasn't hard to have Prometheus scan for that frequency from orbit and report the location of their findings."

Daniel exhaled silently. The relief on his face was plain to his friends, though probably not evident to anyone else. Clearly, he now understood the paper in Teal'c's hands to be legitimate, not a bluff. And with the cylinder back in their control, there was some hope to find answers for Sha're.

Apparently tired of the conversation, Jack looked at Hartkans and put away his sidearm. "The good news, Doc, is that I don't have to shoot you." He smiled darkly. "The bad news is that you're going away for a very long time. I'm sure the scientists at Area 51 will want a full account of all your research," he said mildly. "And I know there are a few folks in our investigative unit who will want some answers about your ties with the Trust." His eyes shone with satisfaction. "But I, for one, have had quite enough of you today." Turning to his friends, he gestured toward the door. "I think we have a cylinder to investigate."

Without another backwards glance, the team turned from the gaping scientist and left the cell in silence.

Once outside, Jack opened his mouth to speak, when the young airman who'd interrupted them earlier approached and saluted sharply.

"Sir," he said crisply, "you have an urgent phone call."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. Who could possibly be calling? The people who usually sent him urgent phone calls were all standing within arm's reach. "Do you know who it is?"

The soldier nodded. "Yes sir, it's Mr. Woolsey."

Wrinkling his nose distastefully, Jack couldn't quite restrain a groan of annoyance. "What could he possibly want?"

Sam put a hand on her husband's shoulder. "Maybe you should talk to him." Her voice was calm and soothing. "He does have some power in this situation. It might be better to humor him."

Sighing resignedly, Jack heeded the wisdom of his wife's words. "Oh, fine," he grumbled, striding to the nearest telephone. Picking it up, he barked into the receiver. "This is General O'Neill. Put Woolsey through."

After a brief pause, a click on the line let Jack know the call had been transferred. "Dick," he said with false enthusiasm, "what can I do for you?"

The crisp, irritated tone in Woolsey's voice left no doubt as to his present mood. "You can start by being serious for a moment," he replied angrily. "I can assure you that I don't appreciate your juvenile humor when national security is at stake."

Jack's face reflected both confusion and exasperation. "What are you talking about?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

Woolsey's response was just as heated. "As if you didn't know." His displeasure was obvious, even over the phone line. "I'm reading a report of the last several hours' events on your base," he said darkly.

Still perplexed and irritated, Jack found himself growing impatient. "So what?" he snapped.

"So," Woolsey replied heatedly, "in the future I'd appreciate it if you did not feed me false information just to amuse yourself."

Jack finally snapped. "Listen, Dick. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. I assure you I didn't write the report you're reading, nor have any idea what's in it." He glared at the telephone. "Take my word for it, you are the last person on Earth I'd inform of my daily activities!"

Completely unappeased, the lawyer's voice registered total disdain for the conversation. "Then would you kindly explain this ridiculous account?" His voice snapped with impatience. "According to the document in front of me, your wife called for a full contingent of heavily armed marines to respond to a hostage situation in your office less than two hours ago. And apparently, the only evidence she had of this supposed security breach were your desire to catch up on paperwork and the fact that you referenced her proper name!"

After a brief moment of silence, Jack burst into appreciative laughter before he slowly hung up the phone.

A/N: Useless factoid #8,574, regarding racking/wracking one's brain… "racking" (in this particular context) appears to have been derived from the ancient torture device sharing the same name. If you were "racking" your brain, you'd be stretching it until it revealed something useful. However, "wracking" might also be accurate, because to "wrack" means to pummel something mercilessly. So, when you're thinking hard, are you "racking" your brain or "wracking" it??

English is such a fascinating language.