A/N's: time flies... it is Friday already! Hope you guys had a great week. And what better way to start the weekend than find out how Jack is faring during his trip to hell and back?
Thanks to all reviewers, especially the guests, as I cannot reply to them in private. Glad you are enjoying this story!
Teal'c was ready. He had found the perfect spot to wait for the approaching guard and heard the man coming by the scraping of boots over solid ground.
The man probably never knew what hit him as the huge Jaffa landed a hard blow on the guard's head. Without making a sound the soldier went down, unconscious and with a bleeding gash on his skull.
Teal'c quickly rolled him closer and bound his hands and feet tightly together.
With a gun at the ready, the Jaffa moved to a lower position and aimed at the remaining guards still in the valley. They were within shooting range, but the guards were positioned behind their prisoners so Teal'c couldn't get a clear shot. He had to wait for the right moment.
Everything happened very quickly from there.
Bayfield jerked at his hands, breaking the ropes. He spun around.
At the same moment Teal'c figured he had a clear shot at the man behind Carter. He fired.
Carter, who was waiting for a sign from the Colonel, moved too, taking her guard by surprise.
The bullet from Teal'c's gun, meant for the guard, scratched the Major's upper arm. She staggered from the impact.
Bayfield hit the guard hard under the chin before the man realized what had happened.
The second guard was fast. He caught the stumbling woman, pulled her close against him with one arm threateningly around her neck. "Back off," he hissed at Bayfield, who wanted to finish taking out the first guard.
The man in question took advantage of the situation and aimed his gun at the Colonel.
Bayfield slowly raised his hands in the air.
Teal'c came running down. One yell from the guards stopped him, however, and he helplessly watched as the two guards started to move backwards, back through the ravine, back toward the other side.
Carter struggled but the arm around her neck was strong and the guard dragged her with him, backward, while the other guard forced Bayfield to move.
Suddenly, another figure appeared out of nowhere. Jack jumped out of his hiding spot, onto the guard's back and slid his arm around the man's neck, twisting it quickly before the man could harm Carter. In one fluid motion he tossed the body to the ground and drew his gun, aiming it at the second guard.
The man had Bayfield in a similar grip as his partner had Carter. Only this man pointed his gun at Bayfield's temple, his eyes spitting fire at the American intruder. "Don't shoot," he hissed, threatening to pull the trigger.
"Do it, Jack," Bayfield snapped urgently.
"Don't!" the guard warned.
Jack kept his gun aimed at the guard, with Bayfield in the line of fire. "Give it up," he reasoned. "We've taken out all others. You've got nowhere to go."
The guard's eyes darted to the rim before locking on the people in front of him.
"Don't count on that one. He's dead, too," Jack said, knowing where the guard looked. "You're the only one left."
The guard hesitated.
Bayfield took advantage and threw himself to the left.
O'Neill responded and fired.
The guard staggered as the bullet hit him high in the shoulder.
Bayfield swiftly moved to take control and then it was all over.
O'Neill turned around and looked worriedly at his Second. "Carter, are you all right?"
The blonde Major grimaced as she pressed her hand over the bleeding wound on her arm, but still a smile appeared on her lips. "Yes, Sir. Nice job."
O'Neill sighed in relief. All the adrenaline that had kept him going was fading now that they were all out of danger and he suddenly felt drained, exhausted and weak. His legs started trembling but before they could buckle, an arm slid around his waist for additional support.
"Easy, Jack," Bayfield said, gently guiding the man down. "Let's sit down for a moment while we wait for the others." He already saw Teal'c, Daniel and the doctor coming their way, the linguist dragging the now empty stretcher with him. "Major, you, too."
It didn't take the others long to reach the three people and Janet planned to kneel beside the Colonel but with one nod of his head in the Major's direction he ordered her to check Carter first. Sighing, she obeyed and knelt by Sam to treat her arm.
Daniel sat down next to Jack, watching him in surprise. "Where did you come from?"
With one movement of his head, O'Neill pointed into the direction of the slope. "Climbed down there."
"You climbed down?" the archaeologist stammered, looking at the slope in question. "Jack, that was dangerous!"
O'Neill tiredly shrugged his shoulders, wincing as stabs of pain shot through his left shoulder and took the canteen that Teal'c held in front of him. Slowly he sipped then threw some of the water over his right hand and wiped his face.
Janet had finished field dressing Sam's arm and moved over to O'Neill. She took his pulse and touched his brow before turning her attention to his left arm. "What happened to the immobilizer?" she asked, pointing at the drooping limb.
"I took it off. Couldn't climb down with it," he said apologetically.
She nodded in understanding and gently touched the swollen elbow, probing it to check if the joint had remained in place.
O'Neill flinched.
"Sorry, Sir," Janet said hastily, pulling her hand back. "It's still in place but I need to immobilize it again." Her eyes ran over the troubled areas on his arms and legs, taking in the blood seeping through the bandages on his thighs. Making sure her field dressing on his right under arm was still securely in place, she turned to face Colonel Bayfield. "I take it we need to move?"
Bayfield nodded. He wanted to get out of here, and gain more distance in the right direction. He couldn't be sure there weren't more troops hunting them and the sooner they would reach the border the better.
"I'll clean you up later, then," Janet said to O'Neill. She took out another painkiller and, noticing he'd lost the previous IV ports during his climb, injected it straight into his upper arm. "No more walking, though. And try to keep that arm still, Sir."
With Teal'c's help, O'Neill soon was strapped to the familiar stretcher and the group started their trek through the ravine, heading north.
General Hammond sat in his office, deep in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain and stirred his coffee absentmindedly.
He'd just heard that the second pick up attempt in Tyberia had come back empty. There had been no sign of the missing group; neither in the planned spot nor in the surrounding area as the helicopter had risked circling around a bit to make sure they didn't miss their load.
There was still one other pick up scheduled, so there was still hope.
Hammond dropped his spoon, sipped from the already cold coffee and pulled a face at the taste of it. Pushing the cup away from him, he rested his elbows on the desk and supported his head with the palms of his hands. Sighing out loud he closed his eyes.
They would make it. They had to.
Although he was on one hand glad that the remaining part of SG-1 had volunteered to go with Colonel Bayfield on the unofficial rescue mission, he'd also doubted his decision to let them go from the second they'd left.
What if they didn't return? What if they wouldn't succeed?
O'Neill happened to be one hard-to-kill, stubborn son-of-a-bitch but that didn't actually make him immortal. SG-1 might have pulled off more successful missions than any other team, but wasn't their luck slowly running out?
They had to make it. He just had to keep hoping. And if they didn't, he had at least given them the opportunity to die as a team, just like they would have wanted it. In that case he would die with them, bit by bit.
The sound of the gateroom alerting the base for incoming travelers shook him out of his thoughts. Frowning at the unscheduled activation, Hammond rose and headed toward the control room.
The Lieutenant behind the computer screen detected a signal.
"Who is it?" Hammond demanded.
"It's the Tok'ra, Sir," the Lieutenant announced as soon as the computer recognized the signal.
"Open the iris," Hammond ordered then turned to walk down the stairs.
He stood at the bottom of the ramp and watched for the umpteenth time as the gate spun then locked and the squirming liquid formed, establishing the wormhole. Normally he loved to be a witness to what he still considered magic but now he was completely unaware of the beauty that unfolded in front of him.
One figure emerged through the gate before it shut down. Hammond immediately recognized General Carter, his friend and the father of Major Samantha Carter. Stepping forward, Hammond extended his hand. "Jacob. What a surprise. Everything all right?"
Jacob Carter gently shook the proffered hand. "George. I'm fine, actually. I planned to take Sam on a little trip to visit my son and grandchildren." Carter immediately sensed that something was amiss and closely studied the face in front of him. "Something wrong, George?"
Hammond shortly placed an arm around General Carter's shoulders and motioned with his other arm into the direction he wanted to go. "We better go to my office, Jacob."
Two hours after they'd left the ravine Colonel Bayfield decided that they'd made enough progress to allow his people a brief rest. He knew they were all tired and he also knew O'Neill needed medical attention but only now he felt safe enough to give into those needs. "We'll take one hour, people. Then we'll be moving on."
Bayfield ordered Carter to sit down and rest then put Teal'c, Daniel Jackson and himself on guard to cover all directions, knowing Doctor Fraiser was perfectly capable of taking care of the injured teammates by herself.
Fraiser turned her attention to Sam, ready to remove the makeshift bandage to replace it by another one, but Carter waved her off. "It was just a scratch. Take care of the Colonel first."
Nodding, Fraiser now stooped down beside the stretcher to take the sleeping man's vitals. Taking in the worried looks Sam was throwing into her direction she softly updated the Major about the most elementary discoveries. "He's sound asleep, which is not a surprise after these last events. He must be exhausted. So, I don't think he will complain about my ministrations..."
Sam grinned briefly.
"His temperature is rising again, which I expected ... elbow swollen, but the joint seems to have held... I need to clean the knife wound, maybe put in some stitches..." Janet lifted O'Neill's arms to examine the back of them. "I need to re-open some infected areas here, and probably on his legs as well. Now let's check his belly..." Lifting his shirt, she carefully started probing his abdomen, feeling for anything unusual, like hard spots where they needed to be soft or possible swelling.
"What do you think?" Sam broke the silence, too impatient to wait for Janet to start talking.
"Hard to tell. I don't feel anything wrong, which is a good sign. But there were traces of blood in his urine this morning and he took a couple more hits today, so we'll really have to wait until we reach a hospital with the proper equipment," Janet meanwhile shifted the sleeping man into the right position to be able to roll him over. "I'll treat the knife wound and infected areas first and I'll immobilize his left arm again but then it's your turn. I need to clean that arm properly, okay?"
Sam made herself as comfortable as possible while watching the progress as Janet did her job.
First Fraiser removed the field dressing from the knife wound. It was only seeping blood now, and luckily for O'Neill it was a long cut, but not too deep. Rinsing it with disinfectant she settled for tightly taping it together, wrapping it up with bandages when she was done. Janet then lanced the skin on the infected areas on the Colonel's arms and legs, patted them with some clean tissues then bandaged them lightly, allowing the wounds to drain. After rolling O'Neill back on his back, she prepared to guide his left arm in the proper angle to be immobilized in order to steady the still healing elbow joint.
The Colonel suddenly thrashed, flinging his right arm, caught in delusion or bad dream.
The movement scared Fraiser off and she all but jumped backwards, barely able to suppress screaming out in fear.
"Janet?" Carter queried, taking in the extreme reaction of the female doctor to the sudden movement of her CO. "Are you all right?"
Fraiser quickly got a hold on herself, shrugging off the sudden flashback of the Tyberian guard who'd attacked her that morning. She reassuringly placed her hand on the Colonel's shoulder and briefly faced Sam. "I'm fine," she said and turned back to the now tossing man. "Colonel, it's okay. Wake up. Sir?"
O'Neill blinked his eyes, confusion evident in his features.
"Sir? Are you back with me?" Fraiser asked, gently rubbing his arm.
"Doc?" he mumbled.
"Yes, it's me," she wiped his face with a cold cloth. "Your temperature is rising again. I'm nearly done, Sir. Just need to immobilize your arm, okay?"
He stared from her to Carter, remembering his whereabouts. "Carter? You okay?"
"Yes, Sir. It's just a scratch. I'll be okay," the Major reassured her CO.
Visibly relieved now, O'Neill looked back at Janet. "You? The others?"
"Fine, Sir," Janet said quickly. "Don't worry. We're fine." She helped him sit up and handed him the canteen along with a pair of antibiotic pills as she had run out of the shots, waiting while he sipped the water and swallowed the medication. Next she expertly immobilized his left arm and guided him back down, watching him wearily close his eyes as he slipped back into darkness. She finished her work by sponging his face and neck before turning her attention to Carter's injured arm.
so... now you can all relax and enjoy your weekend... they are (relatively) safe for the time being... See you on Monday!