"Ow! Jesus!"
Jack spun around. The knife in his hand stopping mid-twirl as Maybourne's yelp yanked him back from the myriad of emotions that had his gut twisting into knots.
He fought to reign them in.
Normally it would've made him laugh to watch Harry recoil from Sam's antiseptic reach.
When it came to administering first aid, her "light touch," or lack thereof, was well renowned at the SGC. So much so that the team would go to great lengths to distract her while they geared up, so Daniel could sneak the medkit into his pack instead.
That was the first time he'd ever seen Teal'c dance.
But now, just the sight of Maybourne being there, in their peaceful sanctuary where they spent the week making love and planning a life together, infuriated him.
His eyes roamed over the frustration on her face. Down her long neck. She wasn't wearing a bra and even through the two layers, he could still see the slight outline of her nipples pressing against the soft fabric. Goddamn it.
This was all wrong.
He should've been inside of her right now. Feeling himself being swallowed by that glorious tight wet heat of hers as he traced his tongue up the generous slope of those amazing breasts. Sucking on those perfect nipples as he delivered deep firm strokes.
Hearing her come in that ragged breathy moan that ruined him every single fucking time.
Growling, he tore his gaze from her and turned. Raking his fingers through his hair as he willed away the inconvenient hard-on and focused on the anger.
He felt that part of him he'd been trying so desperately to tame the last three days screaming at him. What's wrong with you?! You should've killed him.
Even now he could still feel it. The obsession. The panic and anger bubbling inside from seeing her in harm's way…again.
It was making it hard to concentrate on what he'd heard Harry say mere seconds before he charged and tackled him to the forest floor.
But he'd heard enough to know that Knight had reneged on the deal.
That sonovabitch...
He should've taken his hand off on that plane. Then the other. Watched him suffer and beg before running that knife through his sternum and opening him up.
Most guys he'd killed that way hadn't lasted long enough to see the blade make it to their groin.
He was about to find out if Knight would. God, he hoped so. Just the thought of it propelled him into action.
It only took three strides to get to Harry. Snatching up a big fistful of his dirty polo and yanking him hard, nearly halfway out of the chair to meet him face to face.
"Want me to take over Harry?" he spit. "Just say the fucking word."
It took a second for Maybourne to respond as he swallowed hard. No doubt it was years of training that kept him calmer than most. He took a placating tone that didn't match the worry in his eyes.
"Easy Jack."
If his hands hadn't been bound behind his back with a mess of cooking twine they'd found in a kitchen drawer, Jack imagined he would've had them up in a gesture of surrender.
"I'm not the enemy here."
Jack could feel the heat climbing up his neck, his teeth gritting together at the memory of their encounter in the warehouse where Harry's true deception had been realized.
"Oh, don't you worry, I'll be making sure of that."
Harry winced as the tip of the blade poked the underside of his chin and began pressing up. The inevitable puncture of skin evaded when Sam's hand came to rest on Jack's forearm, backing him down.
The look of defeat in her eyes wasn't something he was accustomed to or something he'd been prepared for when he met her gaze. But there was one thing he knew for sure. It wasn't good.
"Jack, Knight is hunting us as we speak. Trust me. We need all the help we can get."
He scoffed in disbelief. "Help? Sam, are you seriously going to take his word on this? We're just a pawn in this new fucked up game of his."
His eyes swung and latched onto Maybourne's. "Ain't that right Harry? Who's out there, huh? I know goddamn well you didn't come here without backup."
"There's no one Jack, it's just me, I swear."
The movement was so fast, Harry stumbled to keep up as Jack pulled him up the rest of the way and around the chair to slam his back up against the long sliding glass door. Then he was spun around, a painful grunt escaping as his nose was smashed into the glass. One hand at the back of his head pressing as the blade in the other teased his jugular.
"Jack!"
The glance he shot back at Sam had some heat to it, but he hoped the message there was relayed. When she stepped back and nodded, he leaned into his prey.
"Take a look, Harry." Jack hissed into his ear. "Go on."
He waited until Harry opened his eyes and glanced sideways out in the bright gorgeous wilderness before continuing.
"I've never been one for interrogations. The spooks I worked with in the past said I was too impatient. But to me, it was pointless. I mean, let's be honest. You waterboard anyone long enough and they'll confess to being the second man on the grassy knoll. Am I right?"
He followed Harry's gaze outside, "They'll say anything to keep from tasting that dirty rag being forced over their mouth again. Feeling that dread, just knowing those assholes are about to drown them in another gallon of water. And wondering if it will be the time they don't bother pulling them back up."
By the end of his last tour, Jack had lost count of how many times he'd been waterboarded in captivity. At the time he thought it was the worst torture he'd ever experienced.
Until he met Ba'al.
He felt the hairs at the back of his neck stand at attention from the memory.
"Dying and being revived. No matter the reason. Sometimes it's worse than death, yeah?"
Harry nodded as much as the hold would allow, having delivered his fair share of torture throughout his years as a NID lackey.
"So, this is me saving us both a bunch of time and aggravation by offering far better than what you deserve Harry. Unless you come clean with everything you know. And I mean everything. Right now. This sight in front of you will be the last thing you ever see."
Harry let out a long, shaky, resigned breath and closed his eyes again. His words slightly muffled when he finally responded. "Okay, Jack. You win."
The pressure on Harry's head let up as Jack moved his hand to the shoulder, allowing him to straighten. The knife remaining at the ready in case he decided to put up a fight.
Harry cleared his throat and stared outside absently as he started.
"After the warehouse, I headed back home. Got a few burners and reached out to a couple of buddies of mine for some intel on Knight. That's when I learned about what happened with you two and how the bounty on my head had gone up."
"So, you already knew about our deal." Sam chimed in, sounding less than thrilled he hadn't been more forthcoming about that during their initial meet-up.
"Yeah. Knight wasn't all too happy to find out from his doctors that he wouldn't be able to get full function of his hand back."
"His hand?"
Jack shook away Sam's question and she took the hint that he'd fill her in later. "And?"
"And he lost a big edge with his clients once they heard about how he'd been handled so easily by your team. It made him vulnerable. More vulnerable than any threat you'd made anyway. When word got out that some of his competitors were thinking about making a move, he decided to seek out some IT help. Probably to ease his balls out of the vise Carter had put them in when she hacked his financials."
He shrugged. "When I found out he was searching, I decided to make a move."
When Jack sensed the nervousness in his voice, the grip on Harry's shoulder tightened to acknowledge it. "What move?"
"I called Simon. The kid is next level, Jack. He received honors at Harvard in computer engineering before branching out on his own and was sought out by every alphabet agency out there. But he stayed private where the money was. About five years ago he got swept up in an operation I was leading. Just bad luck on his part really. Wrong place, wrong time. Anyway, I kept him out of the fire and he owed me."
Jack felt his patience waning, "Simon's a nerd. Got it…moving on…"
"That's who it is." He heard the awe in Sam's voice. "He's yours?"
"What?" Jack looked back and forth between the two when Harry nodded. "Who's whose?" He growled when no one answered. "Does someone want to fill me in here?"
Sam popped out of the dazed, thinking state he knew all too well and answered first. "He's the reason why we lost our advantage. This…Simon…is working with Knight and is using an unbreakable code that I haven't been able to figure a way around...at least not with the equipment I have here.
He's responsible for taking away our leverage."
When the pieces fell into place, there was a distinctly muted gong as Harry's forehead bounced off of the glass. Jack snarled as Harry winced and swore in pain. "And you put him there?! I fucking knew it. You put him in touch with Knight and sold us out…again...to save your own ass!"
"No Jack...listen, that's not it. Look at the big picture."
Sam huffed a bitter laugh. "You put him there so you would have an inside man."
"Yes, exactly. Don't you see? Now we can set him up and take him out without it being traced back to us. No more running from cartels and mercs. We'd get our lives back. Don't you want that?"
"So, it's we now, is it?" Jack said wryly. "That's convenient." He turned Harry around roughly, a splayed hand on his chest, pinning him to the glass so he could see his eyes. "Let me get this straight. You plant a guy in Knight's lap that undoes all this tech stuff Sam put into play, so you could set him up. Never mind that it would snatch the safety net out from under us."
Harry's eyes rolled. "He would've found someone else Jack, don't you see?" Exasperated, he turned to Sam, "Come on Major, tell him…"
Sam folded her arms over her chest and nodded reluctantly. "Maybe."
Jack's eyes narrowed warily. "But this guy of yours is one in a million, right? A super smart nerd that got past these walls she set up. So, what are the chances Knight would have found someone like him on his own?"
When Harry flushed, Jack knew he was honing in on the truth and began to brainstorm.
"He wouldn't have. And we'd still have our deal. Our leverage." He slapped the flat of the blade against Harry's chest as he thought about it. Everything began to click.
"Now it's starting to make sense. You were isolated. right? As soon as the shit hit the fan after that warehouse, you realized you couldn't go back home and all you had were a few old contacts who were the only ones willing to answer the phone."
When Harry avoided his gaze, he knew he was on the right track.
"So, you decide offense is the best defense, but you don't have a team. Not one you can trust anyway. Not one that wouldn't turn you into Knight for a little extra Christmas money. Chances are any of your go-to's got low as soon as they heard you were on the blacklist."
Jack cupped Harry's jaw, forcing his eyes back to his.
"And that's when you turned to us to fill the gap…in whatever harebrained scheme you've cooked up this time. It was just a matter of tracking us down and trying to spin it in a way that makes it seem like you're doing us a favor. Like we're all on the same side and you didn't just fuck us over without even the courtesy of a reach-around."
Harry's face hardened, something deep inside of him becoming resolute as he stared Jack down. "If you're going to kill me, Jack, just get it over with. I did what I had to do."
Jack sneered, leaning in. That was just fine with him. The anger inside of him flared in agreeance as his knife poised for action. "Well, who am I to refuse an offer like that?"
"Seriously?!" Sam snapped loudly, startling them both. Pulling their attention, she closed the distance, her face twisted in anger and disgust. "Are you both done? Or should I leave the room and give you guys a little private time to measure up?"
Her glare ping-ponged between their shocked expressions. "What is wrong with you two?! None of this changes the fact that, at this very second, Knight is coming for us. All of us! We don't have time for this, this…." Gesturing wildly as she searched for the words, "ego-induced hormone therapy session!"
When the words sunk in, Jack chanced a glance at Harry and saw him looking just as sheepish as he felt. Shifting uncomfortably when she pinned him with an icy stare and held out her hand expectantly.
Sulking, and wondering why she couldn't have just said 'pissing contest' like everyone else in the free world, he handed over his knife and failed not to flinch when she snatched it. Blindly jabbing her finger into Harry's chest with enough force to have his back thudding into the glass. Harry winced in his peripheral but kept quiet. "We need him, Jack. Simon is his guy. We can use that to our advantage but not if he's dead…got it?"
Jack felt the heat in his cheeks as he shoved his hands into his pockets and nodded. Grateful when she turned her attention to Harry and side-stepping out of the way as she squared up on him. "And you. You said you did what you had to do. I want to know why. Why did you have to do it?"
When Harry shifted his feet looking like a man caught in a web, Jack grimaced. He'd missed that. Too busy thinking of eventful ways to get rid of this…this…annoying, self-righteous cock-block, and losing sight of, well…everything else. Shit. He was losing his touch.
"Maybourne. Unlike Jack. I refuse to do your whole," she searched for the reference they'd used in the past, "Laurel and Hardy routine."
"Hey…It's Starsky and Hutch." Jack's protest ended with a grumble when she shot him a quick silencing glare before eyeing up Harry and continuing.
"Either you tell me what I need to know, or you can stay tied up here while I refocus my concentration on you and figure it out myself. I highly doubt Simon has covered your tracks as adeptly as he's covered Knight's."
Harry's nostrils flared, chewing on his words. "You're wasting time."
She poked the point of the blade gingerly into his chest. "No! You're wasting time! What are you hiding?"
Leaning back, she took a breath when he didn't answer. "Let me make this perfectly clear Harry. This plan you have will not work if you aren't completely honest with us. No more backstabbing, secrets, or half-truths. This is it. Now or never. Either you tell us everything right now, or I set you free. We'll go our separate ways and you can figure it out on your own."
Jack could tell immediately that Harry wasn't fond of that last option. He was fuming at the thought. Apparently, leaving empty-handed after spending half a day trying to convince them to join his band wasn't an option.
There were a few moments of tense silence as Harry seemed to be waging his options. Clearly taking the threat from Sam seriously when he grunted and let out a long-resigned breath.
"Fine. But I'll need assurances from both of you."
Sam ignored Jack's scoffing and nodded for him to continue.
Harry's shoulders slumped as he forced out the words. "That if anything happens to me…you'll make sure that my…my son is safe."
"What?"
"Son?"
Both of them responded simultaneously, one word bleeding into the next as they glanced at each other, eyes wide in surprise.
Harry's perturbed response brought them back. "And before you accuse me, no, I'm not making him up. He's seven, he exists, and Knight is close to knowing it. If he can't find me, he'll find him." He gritted his teeth, the muscles in his neck bunching as he took a step forward into the point of the blade, straining against the twine. "And that can't happen. I'll turn myself in first."
Jack was stepping in between them in an instant, using a hand to nudge Harry back before he got any closer. "Okay, okay, we got it…calm down there sparky."
When he turned his head to meet Sam's eyes, an understanding passed between them that had her handing the knife over before setting off towards the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Jack turned back to face Harry. "Turn around."
Harry was still tense and his eyes narrowed warily. "Why?"
"Oh, for Christ's sake!" Jack grabbed him by the shoulders and spun him around impatiently before slicing the twine and setting him free. "Sit. Talk. Explain."
By the time Harry had turned and taken a seat, rubbing his sore wrists gingerly, Sam was back with three bottles of water. Placing one in front of Harry and handing one to Jack before taking a seat with her own.
Jack's head was still buzzing with information when Harry finally finished pouring out the details.
Brian was his boy's name. Winona was the mother.
It started as a fairly typical story. A chance hook-up. A surprise pregnancy.
Harry had been waist-deep in the NID at the time, immediately recognizing the vulnerability of having a family in that line of work.
And by the time she'd given birth to little Brian, he had done his best to hide them in plain sight, taking advantage of her Navajo roots to secure a home at a Reservation just over the state line in Utah.
Jack could see the pain in Harry's eyes as he revealed that there was no father listed on the birth certificate. That the only man the boy was familiar with was his alias, William Conner. A good friend of his mom's and retired Air Force Colonel turned commercial airline pilot, who was often busy traveling, but would meet with them in town from time to time to treat them to lunch and cookie dough ice cream.
Money was wired anonymously on a regular basis from an offshore account. And that regular trail of support is what had tripped the alarm with Knight.
Apparently, once Harry had gotten involved with them, the betrayal had put him at the top of Dennis's shit list.
Knight's old IT guy had already been getting close to the particulars when Simon was hired on.
Since then, Simon had been doing his best to slow them down on that front. But any more interference would put a target on his back.
In their last transmission, Harry learned he didn't have a lot of time. His first instinct had been to race over to Utah, grab them, and go on the run. Take them into hiding. But he knew that there was no running from Knight. Not really. You could evade and dodge, but his reach was just too far. Too many connections. Too many eyes and empty pockets to fill.
It was just a matter of time before Winona and Simon would be put directly in Knight's crosshairs alongside him. And that, he couldn't have.
Jack's thoughts drifted to Charlie. And he felt the pang of sadness and the twinge of envy as he thought of him at that age. The imagination and innocent curiosity. The incessant questions about anything and everything as they tossed the ball around in the backyard. All snuffed out in an instant.
A terrifyingly devastating instant that changed his life forever.
The old wound tore open inside of him, and he headed to the big window, leaning against it for support while Harry's droning about his big plan faded into the background.
Jack didn't know how long he was gone.
Catching only glimpses and bits of what was supposed to be Knight's demise. Jerking back to the present when he felt Sam's hand skirt gently along his lower back. Then her supportive arm around his waist as she sidled up next to him.
"Maybourne." Sam interrupted, gathering in a bit of Jack's peaceful view. "We're taking a break. Why don't you get cleaned up and grab something to eat out of the fridge."
Taking Jack's hand, she led him down the hall to the bedroom. "And don't even think about using the laptop," she tossed back while they crossed the threshold, tugging Jack a little past her so she could shut the door and lock it behind them.
Then she closed the distance and pulled him into her arms.