Disclaimer: I still own nothing of either the Harry Potter world or the Stargate world.
A/N: I have never been to Denver and do not know the area at all, the hotel and other places in this story are entirely fictional.
Sitting on the couch in the living area, Mr. Stern waited for the final background checks to arrive.
His hired security team had replaced the usual staff and were using the hotel system to monitor the guests for any suspicious activity. After hanging up with the Senator, he had tasked them with using the system and the NID database to cross-check all persons staying at the hotel.
The deal was too important to be compromised.
Picking up the papers that Mr. Reeves had compiled about the initial findings of the samples, he examined the results. Both the compounds were smuggled through the Russian Gate before the program had been shut down. On their own they were nothing, but combined they would form the basic building blocks for the Tok'ra truth serum. Stern was to play the intermediary between Kinsey and another high-ranking member of the NID who planned to redevelop the compound for military and civilian use.
A sound at the door drew his attention to one of the security personnel entering. The man passed him a disk before departing. Sliding the disk into the laptop resting on the coffee table, Stern opened the file.
A list of the guests of the wedding appeared, with several highlighted. Frowning, he clicked on one of the names. A window opened to a profile of a Captain Kurtis Blake stationed out of Cheyenne Mountain, member of SG-11. His mood slowly darkened as he clicked another then another. Lt. Colonel Taylor, Lt. Kyle Lewis, Major Williams, Sergeant Davik and Dr. Granger; all members of the SGC and here for the wedding.
This was bad.
For a moment he considered calling off the deal, but that prick Kinsey wouldn't like that. He had spent a month hammering out these arrangements, and he wasn't about to let a coincidence ruin this deal.
Looking at the silent Mr. Reeves, he made his decision. "I have a job for you to do."
oOoOoOoOoOoOo
After hiding in her room for the rest of the day, Hermione finally forced herself into getting ready to rejoin the activities back down stairs after receiving a call from Mary. Dressing this time in a light sweater and tight jeans, Hermione grabbed her leather jacket for a night of pub-crawling. The bachelor and bachelorette party would begin at the hotel bar to let the happy couple have one last farewell before being separated until the wedding took place.
Walking through the lobby, she was stopped in her tracks by the sudden appearance of Mrs. Holm blocking her way. The older woman was still impeccably dressed and was probably waiting for her husband to go out for supper. Pinning her with a withering gaze, Mrs. Holm spoke. "I just want you to know that you haven't fooled me. I know exactly who and what you are. If you think that you for one minute that you are going to come in here and endanger me and mine than you have another thing coming. Don't think I am without my resources; I can ruin you."
Completely taken off-guard, Hermione felt all the blood rush out of her face.
What-
How could this woman know-
Before her mind could completely fall apart, Hermione managed to gather her wits to attempt an act of nonchalance. "I'm sorry; I-I don't know what you are referring to. I haven't done anything to endanger your family and I'm just a civilian consultant for the military."
The woman snorted, obviously not buying her denials. "Please, don't insult my intelligence. I know all about what kind of past you have." Stepping closer, she whispered, "All those rumors. You're a threat to my family."
Frozen at her words, Hermione tried, "Ma'am, I-"
Cutting her off, Mrs. Holm stepped even closer. "Just stop." Hermione's mouth snapped shut involuntarily. "I'll be keeping my eyes on you."
With that warning, Mrs. Holm walked away, leaving Hermione confused and shaken. When she noticed that people were beginning to stare, she moved into the restroom to compose herself.
It had almost sounded like that woman knew she was a witch - but, no, that wasn't possible. No one outside of the magical community was ever told about magic except for the parents of those Muggle-born students. Mary was an only child and Hermione knew she wasn't a witch. Even if she had chosen to forgo the magical world for a Muggle education, the name Hermione Granger would have sparked some reaction; to her utter horror, her fame was ranked right up there with Harry's, despite and because of her exile. Mrs. Holm could not know anything about magic.
Letting out a relieved breath, Hermione calmed herself and continued to think. It had to be something else that Mrs. Holm was speaking about, something that would have lead her to believe Hermione was a danger to her family. The Stargate program came to mind, but was just as quickly dismissed. If that were the case, Kyle would be getting the lecture, not herself. Still uncertain, she decided to look into it some more later. Exiting the restroom, she marched over to the bar; she needed a drink.
Only once she threw back a shot and let the alcohol burn its way down her throat did she realized that she was no longer in the mood to party anymore. Before she could beg off accompanying the group on their night's adventure and stumble back up to her room, an arm was thrown over her shoulder.
"Hey, pretty lady, what are you doing this fine night?" She glared at her smirking teammate. Kurtis just wiggled his eyebrows in reply. "Oh, come on, where's the love?"
Another voice chimed in from the stool next to her, "Blake, I would like to remind you that you are still an officer and should show some decorum even if we are off duty." Hermione caught the eye of her commanding officer Scott Taylor nursing a beer.
Kurtis threw up his hands in mock affront and declared, "You two are no fun," before walking off to the group of men congregating around one of the tables with Kyle in the center receiving a bunch of ribbing and backslaps as he downed a shot. Gesturing toward the table, she asked, "How much has he had?"
Also staring at the group, Scott replied, "Don't worry; he has been watering down the drinks. He doesn't want Mary to be throwing a fit if he is hung-over during the ceremony." She smiled at the image that he conjured and he did the same. "And, of course, I will be there to bail out the young whipper-snapper if he gets in over his head."
Laughing, Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "Oh, really. Are you sure that they won't need to bail you out for starting a bar fight?"
Setting down his mug, he glared at her. "Claire shouldn't be talking."
Hermione snorted. She had heard all from Claire about his adventuresome bachelor party. A loud whoop broke into their conversation as the happy couple had one last snog before their friends could tear them apart.
Scott stood at a signal from across the room that his party was leaving throwing some cash down to cover the unfinished beer. With a sigh, Hermione also got up as one of the bridesmaids began to wave her over. Hearing her sigh Scott chuckled.
She bristled at the sound before smiling evilly, "Have fun with the strippers." She announced cheerfully just to annoy him in an overly loud voice.
It was his turn to scowl. "Hateful child." Walking off, he sent her one last barb. "Try to avoid drinking anything green this time."
She grimaced in remembrance of a recent off-world mission where she had ingested one of the local specialties that had kept her up half the night vomiting. Making her way over to the enthusiastic waving of the bridal party, Hermione quickly made her excuses for bowing out over the drunken protests of several members. Finally free, she made her way back to the lift, determined to find out more about Mrs. Holm's warning before the night was through.
Stepping into the lift, she was joined by a few other guests who all proceeded to exit on their floors, except one.
When they reached the fifth floor, Hermione exited and began to walk down the hallway to her room. She placed the keycard in the door and depressed the handle, flipping the light switch on as she entered.
A second before the attack began, Hermione wondered why she hadn't heard the door close.
A spike of fear coursed through her, and she whipped around, locking her gaze with the man from the elevator just as he began to raise a gun pointed at her. Reacting, she dove behind the bed, avoiding the double shots aimed her way. Before the man could round the bed to take aim again, Hermione grasped the book which had been sitting on her night-stand and chucked it toward the guy.
Using the momentary detraction, she hurled herself at the man, causing both of them to hit the ground hard and the man to lose his weapon. Scrambling up, she was halted by a hand seizing her ankle, causing her to fall on her belly. Not letting up, she kicked out with her booted feet and succeeded in opening up a cut above one of his eyes. After her lucky shot, her assailant managed to fend off her continued kicks and managed to pin her legs before crawling up her body to grasp her throat. He squeezed despite her futile attempts to claw at his hands and face.
The room began to darken and her lungs burned at the lack of oxygen. Desperately, she fought, trying to thrash away. It was then she spotted the gun laying off to the side. Flinging out her arm, Hermione stretched as far as she could, just barely able to grab the piece.
Quickly, before he could defend himself, she took the gun and crashed it into the man's skull. It worked and he slumped forward, releasing his hold on her throat. Gasping for air, Hermione pushed the dead weight off and slid away from her attacker. For a few minutes, all she could do was suck in huge breaths of air while keeping a steady eye on the unconscious figure.
Finally able to control her breathing, Hermione, using the wall for support, stood, keeping the gun trained on the man the whole time. Gently, she nudged the man to make sure that he was still out. He didn't move, and she tried with a little more force; still nothing. A flood of emotions nearly overwhelmed her; old memories which should have been locked away rushed forward. Her foot shot out, connecting with the source of her frustrations; it was too much like what had happened in Australia. Shaken, Hermione stumbled back into the wall until she could put her blocks back up.
Feeling better, she slowly scanned the room until she spotted the phone, which had been knocked over in the attack. Taking the receiver, she placed a call into the front desk, asking that security be sent up and the police called. Sinking onto the bed in exhaustion, Hermione began to take notice of her surroundings; the room was a mess. That was when her eyes fell onto the tranquillizer darts stuck in the wall. Puzzled, she picked one up.
Why would someone use tranquilizers unless they-
Replaying the events leading up to this moment, Hermione realized her first assumption had been false.
This wasn't some attempted rape or robbery - this was a kidnapping.
Turning her focus back on the figure, she studied his appearance, wondering who he was. Still wary, she cautiously turned him over and searched his pockets for clues. Some ties, a semiautomatic with a spare clip, and a wallet later she was even more confused.
Who was Mr. Reeves and what did he want with her? This kidnapping had been hastily cobbled together. It wasn't a crime of opportunity; it had been planned, the ties proved that. Then why had there been no clear plan of attack, relying mainly on luck for a chance to get her alone? It was a mess; it didn't even look like he had planned on how to get her out of the hotel. Had he expected to fling her over his shoulder and just walk out the door? Security would have-
Security.
A knock sounded at the door. The security team had arrived.
Now seriously doubting her earlier choice in calling the team, Hermione grabbed the gun and clip, tucking them into her jeans before slipping out onto her balcony, leaving the glass door cracked behind her. Warily, she tested the strength of the railings before climbing over the edge, and eased onto the ledge off to the side corner of the balcony, the only blind-spot from the room. Hidden from sight, Hermione focused on calming her heartbeat and extending her senses outward. She could just make out the sounds of movement in her room.
"...searched. She's gone. How is..."
"He's still breathing. Looks like she...head."
"...can't have gone far. Try under...bed and the balcony."
Pressing her body more firmly into the shadows, Hermione held her breath as one of the men opened the glass door, leading with a gun in front of himself. He studied the area before turning back into the room.
"She's not out there."
"Shit. Call...tell them we missed her and to search the area. I want a complete lockdown."
"Okay, boss."
"Also get someone up...move him. Make sure that the other...have their targets. We don't...any more mistakes."
"...already in position at Clearwater Bar...waiting for an opportunity."
"Tell them to speed...timetable."
Having heard what she needed to, Hermione carefully moved herself off the ledge and dropped down to the ledge below. Slipping into the empty room, she found that the phone lines were already down. Cursing herself for not having grabbed her mobile phone, Hermione grabbed a set of car keys off of the table. She needed to get to that bar before her teammates fell into an ambush.
oOoOoOoOoOoOoOo
Bobbing his head to the beat of the music, Kyle laughed as his friend spilled his beer down the front of his shirt. They had hit three bars so far, and the crowd was getting pretty rowdy as a result. Nursing his own mug, Kyle cheered as his fellow teammate Kurtis Blake did another body shot off of a local sorority girl. Scanning the room, he caught the eye of his CO Scott Taylor shaking his head in exasperation at Blake's actions. He gave the man a sympathetic smile, knowing that Taylor would have his work cut out for himself that night trying to rein in Blake's fun.
Finishing off the last of his drink, he made his way over to the bar to get a refill when another bar patron stood up, knocking into one of the waitresses, causing her to lose her balance and topple into him. Kyle felt a pinch in his neck, but ignored the feeling, thinking it was the edge of the tray grazing his neck. He helped the flustered girl right herself as others continued to crowd in around the commotion. As she profusely apologized, another waitress brought over a towel to help him clean up.
Sinking into a stool and wiping himself down, Kyle started to feel a little bit off. Thinking it was just the buzz of the alcohol he had consumed, he shrugged it off until the room began to spin. Standing, he stumbled, almost falling, only to be caught by Scott, who gave him a worried look. Seeing double, he could barely make out the man's words. "Are you alright there, son?"
"I-I don't know th-the room is spinning. I feel like I'm going to be sick." With that announcement, he stumbled toward the bathroom with Scott helping to support his weight. Pushing open a stall, he slumped over the toilet seat, heaving up the contents of his stomach. His head was pounding and he was starting to get the shakes. "Sir, I'm really not feeling well." He heaved some more. "Something isn't right. I haven't had that much."
Looking worried, Taylor shrugged. "Could just be nerves, kid. How about I round up Blake before he gets himself in any trouble and we take you back to the hotel to sleep it off? The others can stay here."
"Sure." Kyle heard the door close. A moment later it opened again. "That didn't take too long," he muttered before a blow to the back of his head caused the light to go out.
Grabbing the back of Blake's shirt to pry him away from the strippers that had just arrived, Scott explained the situation to the man and they both proceeded into the bathroom to help their teammate back to the hotel. They were waylaid by several members of the party asking about Kyle's whereabouts.
"I think he has had enough for the night. Go ahead and stay; Blake and I are going to take him back to the hotel before Mary finds out," answered Scott.
The guy laughed, "Kyle always was a lightweight. Don't worry about us; the night is young, we can take care of ourselves."
Opening the bathroom door, they were puzzled to find that no one was inside. Seeing the waitress from earlier walk by, he asked, "Have you seen were the guy who was in here a moment ago went?"
"Yeah. He stumbled out the backdoor saying something about fresh air."
Thanking her, they went out the back way. Without warning, they both felt the sting of tranquilizer darts enter their throats and cloud their minds before crashing into the pavement.
