A/N's: I am a little worried... did everybody get the note about this stroy going to M-rating, so dropping of fanfic default radar? Hope so...
Captain McKean and his men had made good progress through the mountains. Without their equipment they had been forced to use their skills to gain enough drinking water for all of them to survive, but they had managed. During the night they'd crawled close together, sharing body heat to keep warm. Although weak, exhausted and hungry, they had pushed on and reached Devil's Peak by noon on Tuesday.
"We're here, people," McKean said, lowering the injured Lieutenant to the ground. He stretched the stiff muscles of his arms by crossing his hands, turning them and pushing them as far forward as he could. "We missed the first pick-up, but there will be another one at five. Sergeant, you and I are going to find a place to hide, while the Lieutenant watches our six and stays off that foot."
"Yes, Sir," the Sergeant responded, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt.
Searching the area around Devil's Peak, they soon found a good spot to spend the remaining hours until the next pick-up. Covered by rocks and with a tree providing some shade, they forced their sore muscles to relax. While watching out for searching troops they waited for the helicopter to get them out of this mess.
"You think they've managed to get out?" Sergeant Wilson asked the question that had been keeping them all occupied during their trek through the mountains.
Captain McKean bit his lip and looked away. The Colonel and the Major hadn't been able to catch up with them and he'd been scanning the area behind him at every opportunity. Still he hadn't detected any sign of people trekking through the mountains. Although he tried to hide his worries, he was getting nervous and suspected the remaining two airmen hadn't been able to escape. "I'm sure the Colonel has set up another spot for a pick-up as well. We'll just have to wait and see," he tried to sound reassuring, but he knew he was failing miserably.
"We should have stayed," Lieutenant Leo Olsen said, furiously rubbing his injured limb.
"We couldn't. The Colonel ordered us to go," the Captain said firmly. He hadn't been thrilled with the particular order although he realized that considering the Lieutenant's injured leg, the decision the Colonel had made had been the only good one.
If only he knew what had happened. If only he could go back…
"The Forces will send in another rescue team, right?" Sergeant Wilson wondered out loud.
McKean snorted. "Another team? Right. Colonel O'Neill is not Special Forces. Why do you think he's pulling off this rescue mission, huh?"
"They don't have another team, or they're not willing to send it," concluded Leo Olsen.
"And doesn't that give a whole other meaning to the not-leaving-anyone-behind rule," McKean added bitterly.
"Who is this Colonel O'Neill anyway?" asked Leo.
McKean shrugged. "I've heard his name before. He's ex-Forces and a personal friend of the Major. I think that's why he volunteered for the job."
"Tough job, to work a way through that mine field on his own," the Sergeant said, impressed.
"Hmmm," nodded McKean.
The sound of the approaching chopper startled them and McKean muttered, "they're early."
The trio rose quickly to their feet and rushed towards their escort. Aided by one of the rescuers they hurried into the chopper.
"Where are Major Crook and Colonel O'Neill?" yelled the Lieutenant.
"We don't know!" McKean yelled back, looking helplessly at the barren mountain.
"Go, go, go!" The Lieutenant signaled the pilot to take off. He used the headset he was wearing to report back to base. "This is Alfa Gamma Delta two-four-zero. We've got three out of five, over."
He listened carefully before turning back to the three rescued men. "We've got orders to fly you directly to Turkey. From there you will be transported back to America ASAP. Colonel Bayfield is waiting for you."
They weren't allowed to rest. O'Neill had no idea how long he'd been sleeping when the lights were suddenly turned on and two guards were there, yelling.
Crook groaned, tried to open his eyes but quickly closed them again as the lights blinded him. He struggled up into a sitting position.
Jack raised his head, leaning on his right elbow and glared through his lashes at the guards. Although they had been yelling something he didn't understand, none of them was motioning for him or Crook to come. What was going on?
As suddenly as the guards had arrived, they left again, satisfied they'd awakened the prisoners. Seconds later, the lights went off.
"What was that all about?" Marc asked.
"Maybe they were just checking," the Colonel groaned and lay back on the floor. He closed his tired eyes, recalling his last visit to this camp and the way they had kept him awake for days. He knew they weren't just checking; he just wasn't ready to admit it.
He was drifting away when a loud buzzer woke him. Startled, he attempted to sit up too fast. Pain flared through his damaged shoulder and arms and he bit on his lip to suppress a deep moan.
Major Crook had responded similarly and was moaning softly as his sore ribs protested the hasty movement.
The buzzer faded and the two Americans tiredly closed their eyes again.
The lights and shouting of the guards woke them up soon after, the procedure the same as before. As soon as the guards had made sure they were awake, they left and turned off the light.
They fell asleep; the buzzer woke them up. They drifted off but the lights startled them awake. Each time one of the prisoners dozed, a loud sound, bright light or screaming guards forced them to wake up.
O'Neill tried to ignore the wake up calls by shifting his body, facing the wall. Immediately, one of the guards entered the cell, dragged him back until he was facing the front of the cell and kicked him in the ribs, all while roaring furiously.
Crook refused to open his eyes until one of the guards threw a bucket of water over his head. Marc took advantage licking the cool liquid that was running down his face.
They wouldn't quit until both Americans had opened their eyes, looking at them before turning the lights or buzzer off, only to repeat the process fifteen minutes later.
Jack had no idea how long this went on. Exhausted as he was, it was all he could do to force his heavy eyes to open in response to the guards, knowing he would pay the price if he didn't. Subconsciously he knew that Marc was doing the same, struggling to hang on for as long as this would last.
Major Carter, Daniel Jackson and Teal'c walked through the corridors of the SGC, heading for the briefing room.
"Hopefully the General has some news about Jack," Daniel hoped. The last couple of days he hadn't been able to stop worrying about his friend and he was anxiously awaiting any news.
"I hope so, too, Daniel. He's been gone for more than a week now." Sam shared the uncomfortable feeling with the linguist, which was growing with each day that passed.
"We will know soon," Teal'c said simply, his face showing no emotion.
They opened the door to the briefing room, finding the General already present, along with an unknown Colonel and Doctor Janet Fraiser.
Janet greeted them, frowning, her expression telling them that she didn't know anything either.
"Welcome, people. Please, sit down," Hammond started.
Daniel took in the grim expression of both the General and the Colonel. Daniel nervously fidgeted with a piece of paper on the table. Something was wrong; he just knew it. A quick exchange of looks with Sam told him that she had felt the tension as well.
"First, let me introduce our guest. This is Colonel Bayfield from Special Forces. As you all know, one of his teams was missing in Tyberia and he'd requested Colonel O'Neill's help."
They all exchanged nods, while the General continued with the introduction. "Colonel, this is Colonel O'Neill's team. Major Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson and Teal'c. You've already shaken Dr. Fraiser's hand; she's the chief of the medical facility of the SGC. Colonel Bayfield has information about the attempted rescue mission. Colonel?"
"Yes, Sir. Thank you," Bayfield started, looking at the people around him. "Yesterday, Captain McKean, Lieutenant Olsen and Sergeant Wilson were rescued by the helicopter at one of the places Colonel O'Neill had pointed out as a pick-up. They arrived back in the States around midnight. They told me that Major Crook was separated from them in the camp by the Elite troops. Colonel O'Neill had made his way in by marking a path through the minefields and successfully rescued the three men. They…"
"Jack made a path through a minefield? He knows how to do that?" Daniel interrupted, his eyebrows lifted high in surprise.
Bayfield looked at him, wanting to make a comment about all O'Neill was capable of but thought the better of it. "Yes," he acknowledged, "O'Neill ordered the three men to get out of there, while he stayed behind in an attempt to rescue Major Crook…"
"That sounds like Jack," Daniel nodded, knowing his friend would want the others to be safe above all.
"Considering the condition the men were in, it was probably the best thing to do," Bayfield agreed, "so the men left. While they were getting away, they heard a loud explosion, lighting up the sky. They are pretty certain that it was at least one mine that detonated."
"Holy Hannah," Sam said, taken aback.
"Something went wrong. Colonel O'Neill and Major Crook are still in that camp," Colonel Bayfield stated, taking in the shocked expressions on the faces around him.
"Are they still alive?" Daniel asked.
"We know that Colonel O'Neill did survive the mine detonation. We just have to hope the troops don't kill them," Bayfield said, gathering a slide from his papers. He put it on the projector, turning it on.
A picture of the camp appeared on the screen, taken from a satellite. It showed people, apparently running around chaotically. Bayfield got up and walked over to the screen, then put his finger on it to explain. "This photo is taken moments after the mine detonation. You can see the damage it has done to this building. If you take a good look, you can see two guards dragging somebody over here…" He tapped with his fingers on the screen and waited for the others to bend forward for a closer look.
Carter gasped, Daniel's mouth fell open and even Teal'c looked grim.
"We're pretty sure that this is O'Neill. Let's enlarge it a bit, shall we?"
Carter already moved, adjusting something and now they could all see it better. Although it was still hard to tell for sure, it had to be the Colonel.
"So he was at least alive," Bayfield finished his report.
General Hammond addressed Doctor Fraiser. "What do you think, Doctor?"
Janet looked at the screen carefully, then eyed the General. "Well, Sir. It's hard to tell based on this. I don't know how close he was to the mine when it exploded. What was he wearing?" She faced the Colonel, her eyes questioning.
"A helmet and a fragmentation vest."
She nodded. "That's good. At least his vital body parts were protected then. Depending on how close he was to the explosion, we're looking at minor to major damage to the arms and legs from the pieces of the mine that were flying around. Hopefully nothing has torn up his face or damaged his eyes. Other than that, he should be all right."
Bayfield started pacing the room. "But, since he's been in there for two-and-a-half days…"
"Plus taking into account the way they treated him the last time…" Janet added doubtfully.
"Last time?" shot Daniel.
Fraiser looked at the General.
He decided to give the team some information. "Colonel O'Neill has been held prisoner in this camp before, Doctor Jackson," he said, "during his time with the Forces."
Carter inhaled sharply. "Yet he still went back there?"
"He and Major Crook are good friends. They have gotten each other out of trouble more than once. That's why I came to O'Neill for help," Colonel Bayfield explained.
"Well, thanks a lot," Daniel sneered, frustrated from the whole ordeal.
"Do you think I like this, Doctor Jackson?" Bayfield shot back. "You're not the one who got him into this situation. I did. I asked him to do this. He is in there," he pointed angrily at the screen still showing the photo of the camp, "because of me."
All fell silent for a while, stunned by the Colonel's outburst.
"Sorry," Daniel muttered finally.
The Colonel's voice was soft and he stared at some point on the floor. "I send those teams out, each time knowing something can go wrong. Not being able to do anything just makes me feel so damn useless. I've let O'Neill down on more than one occasion and I cannot leave him in there. Not without doing all within my power to get him out. I cannot and I will not." Bayfield lifted his head, facing the General determinedly. "Sir, I'm going in."
Hammond thoroughly examined the Colonel's features, looked deeply into his eyes as if searching his soul. Neither talked, neither turned away, or closed his eyes.
It was Carter who finally dared to break the silence. "Sir, I've still got some leave coming up. I like your permission to take it and …" she hesitated, thinking on how to describe it, "… visit some friends in … the Middle East, Sir."
Daniel stared from the Colonel to Sam. "I would like to join her on this, Sir," he added hastily.
Teal'c bowed slightly. "I will accompany you also."
Colonel Bayfield looked at them, surprised at the way they were easily offering their assistance to him, without really knowing what to expect. Although he knew a little about the Stargate missions and what this team had encountered out in the galaxy, it was still not comparable to what they would encounter in Tyberia.
Examining the alien, Teal'c, he felt confident that this man had seen plenty of action and that his training as a Jaffa would proof to be beneficial to the mission.
The Major would probably have enough training, but he doubted her field experience in cases such as this. Would she be able to handle this? She'd proven her capabilities on many Stargate missions however and since he didn't have many options left he was willing to take his chances.
Then there was Doctor Jackson. He was a civilian. There was no way he could predict how the man would react in combat situations. How could he be of any use? "Do you speak Arabic?" Bayfield asked the linguist as a thought occurred to him.
"Well, there are different dialects. I don't particularly know the dialect the Tyberians use, but I do know the language," Daniel explained. "Do you have a Tyberian interpreter? How long is the flight over there?"
Bayfield frowned, wondering where this was going. "Yes," he answered the first question. "About twelve hours to Turkey."
Daniel nodded self-assuredly. "I will speak the Tyberian dialect fluently by then."
Beside him, Sam smiled as she took in the surprise on the Colonel's face.
Hammond drummed his fingers on the table. This wasn't one of his easier decisions. Although he knew they needed to undertake something to get the remaining men out of that camp, he was reluctant to send SG-1 in. His thoughts similar to Colonel Bayfield's, he wondered about the differences in Special Forces situations compared to the mostly routine Stargate missions. "Colonel, how about another team? You mentioned last week that you could have one available sometime this week?"
"Something has come up, Sir. The team isn't able to leave North-Vietnam yet. That's why I want to go in myself."
Hammond sighed, pressing the palms of his hands over his eyes before looking back across the room. "All right then," he made his decision. "You have a go. But, Doctor Jackson, as a civilian, I can neither order nor ask you to join this operation…"
"You don't have to, General," the young man responded. "I volunteer to go. I don't want to stay here, unable to do anything."
A soft voice interrupted everybody's thoughts. "Sir, permission to join the rescue party as well."
Hammond was shocked. "Doctor Fraiser? I can't allow you to go. You're not trained for this," he protested.
"Sir, with all due respect," Janet spoke firmly now. "You've seen Colonel O'Neill's file. So have I. We both know what the Tyberian Force is capable of. As far as I've understood it, it is still a long way from camp to safety. If…" she looked at Colonel Bayfield and corrected herself. "When we rescue those men, they're still far from any medical help. My presence could turn out to be the difference between life and death, Sir."
Colonel Bayfield threw her a respectful look and turned, eyeing the General. "She's right, Sir. We'll have to travel for at least another two to three days before we reach safety." He couldn't help feeling impressed by the loyalty these people had shown towards one of their own.
With five people looking questioningly at him General Hammond let out a deep sigh. "All right then. Dr. Warner can take over the medical facility while you're gone." Hammond faced the Colonel. "Colonel, let's start with all the details you've got on Camp Ockeloen. We've got two people who need our help out there."
Yeah! Finally! Hang in there, Jack... your team is coming... Excited?