Jen struggled to keep up with the behemoth who dragged her across the floor of the airplane hanger. Her legs weren't working much beyond a wobble, after affects of the taser, and the drug they'd obviously given her to keep her asleep.
She had absolutely no idea of what time it was, or where she was, other than the fact that she was no longer in Washington, and it was still pitch black outside.
Something had gone horribly wrong if she was still here – because there was no way anyone would have left her this long if they'd known she was gone.
She struggled to clear her foggy mind as she was pulled unceremoniously across the cold cement floor and down a long hallway. At the end of the corridor, a tall, skinny man stood waiting next to what appeared to be an open closet door.
Jen eyed him warily as she was shoved forward, her upper arm caught by the man inside the closet. When the giant squeezed in with them, he pulled the door closed, then flipped open the cover of what looked like an electrical panel. In the bottom corner, a small keypad glowed. He entered a five digit code, then Jen left her stomach behind as the floor dropped beneath them and they sank into the ground.
An elevator.
She immediately thought back to the photos of the destroyed lab. The one under the airport. The one with the self-destruct. The one owned by Michael Franks.
She shuddered.
Skinny dragged her around to face the back wall and the hanging brooms and cleaning supplies. Within a few seconds they stopped moving, and the back wall swung away, revealing a clinically cold corridor with white walls and florescent lighting. She could smell the distinguished sharp tang of alcohol and cleaning solvents. But there was no sound, no people, nothing other than the sound of the hard soled shoes of her two companions.
Dragged forward, they passed several empty laboratories, their contents visible through the windows that bordered the long hallway. Equipment and monitoring stations, tables and computers. Jen briefly wondered if the computers would be online... a way to get a message out.
Reaching the end of the hallway, they turned sharply left, and proceeded down another corridor until they stopped in front of a windowless door near the end. Skinny opened the door and shoved her inside.
She stumbled and landed hard on the cold floor.
"Wait here." He ordered with a sneer, and then closed the door.
Jen heard the very distinguishable click of a lock sliding into place.
She fought the light-headedness and pushed herself to her feet, quickly testing the door handle.
Locked.
She turned and stared at her sparsely furnished prison - noting the neatly made cot, and small square pillow, an empty wooden table, and a matching wooden chair.
Other than that – it was completely bare.
She moved to the cot and sat down, tucking her cold, bare feet up beneath her. Pulling Evan's jacket tightly around herself she reached for the collar and buried her face in the material, taking a slow, deep breath, inhaling the faint trace of musk.
It smelled like him.
God how she wished he was here with her right now. Telling her it was going to be okay. Telling her she was going to be fine. Telling her he wasn't going to let anything happen to her.
Jen blinked back the burn and told herself to be strong. To be smart. They would come for her… and when they did… she'd need to be ready.
While she sat under the ugly lights of the overhead ultraviolets, she contemplated a dozen different reasons why she was here, and why she was alone. The most likely being that the taser had cooked her transmitter.
Which was also the most frightening thought.
Because without the transmitter, they'd have no way of knowing exactly where she was.
Jen lowered her head and buried her face in the collar of Evan's jacket, drawing strength from his muted presence. If they'd wanted her dead, she'd be dead, not just locked away. So, there was something specific they needed, or wanted, because she was still alive, and so far, unharmed. And until she could find out what they wanted, and who they were – although she already had a pretty good idea on that point - she needed to keep her head clear.
She needed to think.
She needed to survive.
To stay alive.
Because if there was one thing she knew about her people - as Jack O'Neill had so kindly put it – they'd never give up.
She shivered in the cool, underground air, and willed them to hurry.
Evan stared at the small photo being passed around. It was dog eared and well loved, and had been to hell and back in Major Shannon's pocket, carried on every mission as his good luck charm. The smiling face staring back, chin covered in chocolate, sunny green eyes and wind-blown, messy pigtails.
Ella Shannon.
Too small, too innocent, to deserve what could be happening to her. What could be happening to either one of them by the likes of Michael Franks.
Evan slid the photo back across the table to Ian. The Major picked it up and stared down at the image, his expression closed except for the worry he tried very hard to bury behind his eyes. The same bright green eyes as his baby sister.
Ian glanced quickly past Liam to his brother Jamie, who'd just arrived courtesy of the Stargate.
"We need to know everything." John leaned forward in his chair, staring across the table at the three brothers. "The more we know, the better our chances."
Sitting in the conference room, the group watched Liam Shannon finish consuming a ham and cheese sandwich they'd retrieved from the cafeteria. Kid devoured it like he hadn't eaten in a week.
Jamie put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "You ready?"
Liam nodded and finished his mouthful, washing it down with a swig from his can of Coke.
It took nearly two hours for Liam to work his way through the hell he'd been going through for the past six weeks. Between the questions from around the table, a picture quickly formed and it was not pretty.
Evan held his anger in check, concentrating on every piece of information that could help him get Jen – and Ella – back alive.
Michael Franks was a monster.
Plain and simple.
Needing leverage against Liam Shannon, Franks took the one thing that Liam could not bear to loose. His baby sister.
Ella was Franks' insurance against the required silence and cooperation of Liam, who's summer internship put him in a prime location to be picked on as a patsy. With Liam's new found access to the IOA, and more importantly, Director Wilsher's labs, it made perfect sense for him to be the one to orchestrate the theft of the enzyme. No one would expect a kid - even if he did lie and say he was eighteen just so he could have the chance at being closer to his brothers. He himself was shocked no one confirmed his age. Wilsher went through so many interns and assistants, they took him without checking anything.
With no living parents, Ella, and to a lesser extent, Liam, were looked after by a live-in nanny. Maria. Maria's salary, and all the household expenses were paid for by Jamie and Ian. The older brothers had done what they could. But in this case… it wasn't enough.
Two weeks prior, Liam had come home to find a cell phone on his kitchen table, and an empty house. When the phone rang, it was Franks with his offer. Steal more enzyme… or Ella joins Maria at the bottom of the Potomac.
Evan had to hand it to the kid, all previous notions aside, Liam had done a hell of a job of holding it together as best he could.
Because Liam Shannon had known the stasis container was empty.
He'd gambled on his big brothers' help.
And may have lost his baby sister in the process.
It was a lot of weight to put on fifteen-year old shoulders.
Jamie Shannon leaned forward, and looked directly across the table at Colonel Sheppard. "I'm not a traitor, Sir. I couldn't release the enzyme… no matter…" His voice cracked slightly and he swallowed hard before continuing. "No matter what. But I…" He glanced at Liam. "We… had to do something."
John angled his head. "You should have just come to me in the first place, Lieutenant."
Jamie nodded. "I know that, Sir. But… but she's my baby sister. It's my fault we spent to long trying to find a way to get a message to Ian…" He glanced sideways at his older brother, who's stoic expression was cracking under the guilt of not being there. "We ran out of time." Jamie continued. "I even left the storage vault open in the hopes that someone would just notice the container was missing… but it was two weeks and nothing."
"Two weeks?" Evan frowned. "Wilsher's office has been working on the formula for two weeks. The underground lab was destroyed almost three weeks ago."
"Your time line isn't matching up." Marks warned, leaning forward.
Liam looked at Jamie, and the brother nodded. "It's okay. Tell them."
Liam turned back towards the others. "About two months ago someone broke into Director Wilsher's car. He said the only thing they took was his laptop, which was in his back seat. But…" he hesitated.
Ian put his hand on his younger brother's shoulder.
Liam took a deep breath. "He left earlier that day with one of those big silver hard cases… the one's we get every time the Deadalus arrives?"
John and Evan nodded. Both understood the Daedalus regularly transported viral and medical research and supplies to the SGC.
"How can you be so sure?" Marks asked.
"Because I had to carry it to his car for him." Liam answered quickly. "He said he had to review the notes and didn't have time to do it in his office. He swore there wasn't anything official inside. I remember specifically because… because the next day, when he said his car was broken into, I overheard him telling the police officer he only lost his computer. But… but then he never brought back the case."
Evan frowned. "You're sure."
Liam nodded. "Director Wilsher? He's... he's in charge of the research labs. One of the things they asked me to do is help keep track of the lab's inventory. Director Wilsher... he... he, um…" Liam looked uncomfortable, and squirmed in his chair.
"Keep going." His brother Ian urged.
Liam hesitated then continued, his voice quiet. "Well, I asked him about the case a few days later, and he said he returned it. But... he never checked that box in. So… it's not in the system. That's how I know it never came back."
"Do you know what was in the case?" John asked.
Liam glanced quickly at his brother Jamie, who nodded. Then he turned back to John. "A jump drive. And… and a small silver canister. It looked like one of those air cartridges for a paint-ball gun."
"The tube for an auto-injector." Evan glanced sideways at John.
John looked past Evan to Agent Marks. "I need everything you have on the break-in, and cross reference Daedalus records with Liam's inventory list." Then he shifted his gaze to Evan. "Although I can pretty much guess what was in that case."
Evan nodded. "Enzyme." Then he shook his head. "It would explain how they were able to get a formula developed. They had Jen's files on the jump drive, and a sample of the enzyme."
"But then they found out they couldn't do anything without more." John added.
"So Franks figured out how to get more." Marks chimed in.
"By taking Ella." Ian Shannon finished.
John nodded. "Looks like."
"He wants her to complete the formula." Evan muttered, his mind not wanting to admit what he already knew. "It's the only explanation. Her notes. Her research. He hasn't been able to get it to work, so he's going right to the source."
"Makes sense." John nodded, then completed the next thought at the same time as Evan's heart understood the complication. "And when they find out it won't work?"
All the air left Evan's lungs. If Franks found out Jen couldn't complete the formula… she'd be… worthless to him.
No one spoke – the answer obvious.
"So how do we get them back?" Ian finally asked.
John shook his head, his answer cut off when Rodney's voice buzzed in his ear. "Sheppard… it's McKay."
"Go ahead."
"The plane landed. Private airfield on the Florida coast."
"Get me everything you can on the location. Layout. Buildings. I want it all." John ordered.
"Already on it." Rodney answered briskly.
John shoved his chair back and stood up. He stared across the table at the brothers. "Major." He looked directly at Ian. "I think you're about to get that question answered."
Evan's heard skipped a beat and slammed back into place.
Finally.
Ian Shannon stood up, quickly followed by everyone else.
"What is it?" Liam asked quickly. "Did you find them?"
John turned to Marks. "You feel up to a field trip?"
Marks nodded. "Hell ya. Wouldn't miss it."
John looked past him at Agent Ryan. "I want Wilsher's fat ass in a cell."
Ryan grinned. "My pleasure."
"Liam gets an escort. Twenty-four-seven." John continued.
Ryan nodded his agreement and understanding.
John glanced at the youngest brother. "It's for your protection. And no leaving the SGC until this has been cleared up."
Liam nodded. "Yes, Sir." He croaked. "You… You'll bring her back? Both of them?"
"We'll bring them back." John answered, then glanced around the at the others.
"Requesting permission to assist, Colonel." Major Shannon asked quickly, his body ram-rod stiff.
"Same, sir." Jamie replied with equal snap.
John glanced at the two Marines, then stepped closer, staring at them for a moment before speaking. "No shit. No heroics. And you follow orders. One… and I mean one… variance, and you're both going to find your asses in the brig until Ella's college graduation. Do I make myself clear?"
A loud "Yes, Sir!" echoed through the room.
John glared at the two men, looking for anything in their faces other than truth. He shook his head slowly. "Don't make me regret this."
"No, Sir!" Both men answered.
As Evan waited to be beamed to the armory on board the Daedalus, he felt a calming sense of retribution tighten across his chest.
Time to play.