-One Week Later-
Jack peeled back the strap on his tac watch to check the time. "I hate this plan." He felt his knees groaning as they stayed crouched behind the row of overgrown boxwoods.
"Jack," Harry's eyes stayed glued on the guard currently blocking their entry point. "This was the best option and you know it. Two more minutes and we'll have our window."
Good ol' Simon was on the line with them, tracking the security guards through his link into the cameras lining the property, from the privacy of his own condo.
Jack grimaced. At the mercy of another nerd. Probably curled up on his couch, surrounded by empty pizza boxes and Mountain Dew bottles.
"Okay guys," Simon whispered nervously, "Once the big burly dude turns and heads back towards the front, I'll deactivate the alarm and unlock that back cellar door."
Jack's eyes narrowed as he heard the distinct slurping sound of a Slushie. Of course, it would be slushies. Christ. Either he was too old for this shit or the kid was too young.
"No need to whisper junior," he growled, "they can't hear you remember? Now pay attention and stop slurping in my ear. Capiche?"
Jack could've sworn he'd heard one of Sam's famous little snorted giggles sneak out as Simon bumbled a quick apology. And barely contained the smirk.
He should've felt better knowing she was safely camouflaged in the hills behind them. Spying through the silenced scope of a high-performance sniper rifle; most likely trained on the door, just in case an unannounced guard decided to make a special appearance. But he didn't. Her safety was his number one priority, and if things went bad, she was too far away for his liking.
Granted, the plan wasn't all that bad.
They needed to sneak in, plant the 'evidence', get out, and push up to Sam's position. A small hike later, and they'd make it to the small field due East where Jacob and Teal'c were cloaked and standing by.
Then they could watch the chips fall from a safe and reasonable distance.
Simon had actually given Harry the idea after overhearing a couple of recent conversations between Knight and Hendrick "Savage" Jansen, the President of the Sons of Silence. A 1% outlaw motorcycle club that had reached the same level of power as the Hells Angels and the Pagans, and had been wreaking havoc in Colorado Springs since the early sixties.
They served as the go-between. Responsible for securing the incoming shipments of drugs from the cartel and dividing it out to the local gangs for distribution.
A job they apparently felt they weren't being adequately compensated for any longer.
As Simon understood, Hendrick had been pushing Knight for a bigger percentage. One he felt they deserved for keeping the street dealers in line and taking all the risk with local law enforcement. The shipments had gotten bigger, and the money right along with it. It was only fair they deserved a bigger payout.
Knight of course had argued against it. Claiming he had fought tooth and nail to get them the percentage they already had. And to let the rest of the year play out before haggling for a bigger piece. After all, with Knight's free attorney services along with the many pockets he'd lined with local cops and judges, the risk was minimal at best.
What Knight hadn't told Hendrick, was that the Cartel had been running the numbers themselves. Hinting at the thought of bringing in their own guys and edging out the Sons altogether.
The only thing stopping them was Knight. Who was doing his level best to maintain the peace between them out of self-preservation. After all, without having to act as the go-between, it only made sense that he would be next on the replacement list.
That's when Harry realized that Knight handled the distribution of money between the two. And that all they had to do was leak the evidence that Knight had been skimming the Sons share for months. He wasn't of course.
Because that would be a death wish.
Which was why it was so perfect.
Knight prided himself on his security and no one had access to the money except for him. Every week a lump sum was wired from the Cartel to one of their shell corporation's offshore accounts in Hong Kong. And he only ever used his laptop to access it. A laptop that was currently housed inside of his study, and on its own secure network. Incapable of being hacked into, even from the computers Simon maintained at Knight's office.
Which is why it was necessary for them to have to sneak in. Once the flash drive Simon provided was physically inserted into the laptop, he would be able to bypass the security protocols and remote into the secure network. Download the "evidence" and then wipe the traces. All in about five minutes.
Sneaking in was the hard part. Besides the ridiculous amount of security cameras covering every inch of the perimeter, Knight had a full-time security team that patrolled around the clock.
Luckily, Simon had reported that Knight's car and driver were gone, indicating he had already left for the office.
Which meant if they could make it inside undetected. Avoid the small house staff and any security that might have wandered inside for a quick lunch or leak, they should be able to get in and out in under ten.
Jack watched a bead of sweat trail down Harry's temple. No wonder he'd asked for their help.
At least they had Daniel at the SGC to monitor local traffic. Listening for any indication their position had been compromised, and updating Hammond in case a FUBAR situation emerged and additional troops were required for support.
It wasn't lost on him that it was quite possibly the last mission he'd have with his team.
The sharp, "go," in his ear, sling-shotted him back into gear.
Harry was off, and Jack was right behind him.
He had to admit, Harry was good. Nearly silent as they approached the cellar door.
Sam piped in, "Big guy just did an about face, you have ten seconds before you're in his line of sight."
"Simon," Harry huffed.
"Yeah, opening now."
The red light above the panel clicked green and they both slipped in. Jack held the knob and kept it turned as it shut softly. Almost jumping out of his skin as Simon reactivated the lock just as he was letting go. The sound amplified and echoed in the darkness as they held their breaths.
One second, two….
"You're clear." Sam pushed out finally. Sounding just as relieved as he felt as he turned around, his hand loosening around the t-handle of the small push dagger that camouflaged into his black webbed belt.
It had been Harry's idea to blend in with security as much as possible by wearing their standard uniform. Donning black cargo pants with crew t-shirts and black baseball caps. Even swapping their usual Berettas for the lighter Glock 19s these guys seemed to prefer.
It might as well have been a cap gun. Because if they were forced to use them, it was game over.
Jack grumbled as Harry snapped on the small penlight to illuminate the stairs down into the cellar, "Let's get this over with."
If the blueprints of the place were accurate, the cellar steps on the other side of the dank space would lead to a hallway. To the right, they would be ten feet from the big open kitchen that extended out to the huge living room on one side and the doors to the veranda on the other. To the left led past a full bath and two bedrooms before the master suite.
This was where things became difficult.
Apparently, in recent years, Knight had knocked down a wall to the bedroom and adjoined his study. And that's where the blueprints became useless.
All they had to go by was what Simon had been able to discover through bits of chit-chat with others at the office.
If those were true, Knight had fortified his study into a makeshift panic room. Rumor had it that he'd had a hidden passageway built in for a quick escape, and a bank-style vault housing all of his prized possessions. Jack doubted both things, but they'd find out for themselves soon enough.
Footsteps sounded. The soft thudding mixed in with the tinkering sounds coming from the kitchen. Harry turned the knob and Jack gave him a jab to hurry him along once they retreated.
Cathedral ceilings with intricate crown molding and wood inlays waited for them on the other side of the door. If they weren't in such a hurry, he would have loved to see the rest of the place.
They made their way quickly down the hallway. Thirty feet to the bedroom.
He did his best to stay light on his feet, which wasn't an easy thing to do on the sleek hardwood floors.
"You guys in yet?"
Teeth gritted; Jack didn't answer. He was gonna kill that kid.
"Guys?"
"Be patient Simon. They'll let us know." His belly tightened at Sam's easy response, and he forced himself to focus as they approached the suite.
Honestly, he was shocked it was going so well. There were plenty of things going on around them. He could hear it. The low murmur of talking, a sliding glass door opening and closing. Somewhere further into the house, someone was vacuuming. But right where they were, nothing.
That didn't stop him from breathing another sigh of relief when Harry opened the door and they snuck inside.
That's when he was able to appreciate the view. Wow, was all he could think as his eyes danced over the huge round California King sitting center stage in the large oval room, encased in a decadent rosewood frame that matched the rest of the set. A vaulted ceiling with sleek stepped concrete moldings. Not his taste, but a mix of old world and modern that he could appreciate.
Harry gave a low whistle as he tilted his head up to the multi-colored crystal disc chandelier that cascaded from the ceiling. Obviously on a dimmer switch, as it gave off a colorful golden glow that provided just enough lighting for them to get the layout.
"Nice digs," Jack murmured.
"What?" Simon answered.
When Jack didn't answer, Sam translated.
"He said they've made it to the bedroom. A nice one from the sounds of it."
No windows. The rumors had been right about that one. Now, the study.
That's when he spotted them. A set of closed cherry wood paneled doors sitting at the far end of the room, just past a huge gleaming bathroom and adjoining walk-in closet that was bigger than his kitchen and living room combined.
He headed over with Harry on his heels, cursing under his breath when a small black glass panel next to the doors sensed them and illuminated.
"What, what?" Simon practically squeaked. "What's happening?"
"There's a panel," Harry said as he stepped next to Jack.
A keypad of numbers stared back at them, prompting a password. If the dashes below indicated correctly, it wanted five digits.
"Oh no, there was nothing about a keypad…how many numbers do you need?"
Harry reached out and Jack smacked his hand away before it could make contact, glaring at him as he answered Simon. "Five."
The ticking of the keys, as Simon typed, was so fast, it was disturbing.
"Over ninety thousand possibilities," Sam huffed.
"Yeah," Simon said in wonderment, "hey, how'd you know that?"
Jack smirked, "Because she's smarter than you."
"Jack..." It didn't matter how hard she tried; she couldn't cover the hint of smile in the reprimand.
Then it came to him.
Stepping closer, he leaned in, placing his mouth an inch from the panel, and breathed.
Like magic, fingerprint smudges appeared over five of the digits.
"1-3-6-7-8," Harry announced.
"Fifteen thousand." Sam updated as typing resumed on Simon's end.
"Now we're getting somewhere. It's going to take some time, but I'm going to cross-check those numbers with everything I have on Knight. Important dates, phone numbers, social security, you name it. Just have to create the algorithm…"
Harry walked back to the closet and glanced inside while Jack jammed his hands in his pockets, rocked back on his heels, and stared at the panel impatiently.
"Huh, he still has his wife's clothes in here. Shoes, jewelry, everything." Harry whispered.
Not something Jack would've expected from the man that had taken her life. Maybe he'd actually loved her after all.
Then, something clicked.
"Don't check him, check his wife."
After a hum of interest, Simon's typing paused and then resumed, murmuring, "They married, September 23rd, 2008."
"Nope," Harry responded, making his way back to the keypad.
"Okay, she was born…let's see…March 16th, 1987. Wait, that's it!"
Jack's fingers were already busy typing it in. And when the keypad lit up green and the distinct click of the unlocking door sounded, he didn't waste time turning the knob and getting inside.
The study was even better, he thought, as he took it all in. The wall-to-wall built-in bookshelves, the rich cognac leather club chairs, and matching tufted couch overlooking the huge stone hearth in the center of the room.
Except for the big ornate Japanese-inspired vase standing in the far corner, holding some artificial long-stemmed cherry blossoms, the room was rustic and simple…which was right up his alley.
He headed to the long end of the room when he spotted the desk. The fact that it was the only unpolished piece of wood in the place, didn't take away from the charm of it. A classic with ornately carved legs, probably dating back generations if he had to guess. It was certainly massive. Dollars to donuts he wouldn't be able to budge it if he tried.
It wasn't until he rounded the edge of it and pulled back the leather rolling chair, that he recognized the problem.
"Sooo, I'm not seeing a computer here."
"What? No computer?"
"That's what I said, Junior. Nada."
"Whoa, maybe the vault is true."
The words alone had the little boy in Jack jumping up and down in excitement.
Harry was already on the move, opening the double doors again and staring down the line of it, taking in the dimensions. "Definitely possible there's space behind these bookshelves. I can't imagine a whole room though. Maybe an alcove of some sort?"
"Or a tunnel!" Simon barked excitedly. "Try pulling back on some of the books…are there any little statues on the shelves?"
Jack winced, adjusting the earbud as he bent down to feel under the desk for a switch of some sort. "Take it down a notch Columbo, you're hurting my ears. How about you keep an eye on the cameras so we don't have anyone crashing our little party here yeah?"
"What's a Columbo?"
"Thanks Jack. As if I didn't feel ancient enough," Harry mumbled as they searched. Both of them grateful when Carter took the reins on reeling him in.
High and low, they each took a part of the wall and felt their way along the shelves. Fingertips sliding and pushing along edges. And yes, even gingerly pulling back a few books; not that they'd ever admit it.
They'd brainstormed a lot of scenarios before putting this plan into action. Not being able to find the infamous laptop was not one of them.
And as the frustration began to build, Jack's mind reeled on what to do next.
"Uh, guys…"
They both froze.
"We have a black sedan pulling along the front of the house," Sam finished.
"It can't be." Simon breathed worriedly.
Jack didn't need to hear the rest to know who it was. It didn't stop Simon from confirming it a second later.
"Oh my God it's Knight. How? He's not supposed to be here. You guys have to get out of there! Hurry, get to the basement!"
There just wasn't any time. The front door to the house was closer to the bedroom than the basement. Their luck, they'd run right into him as soon as they opened the bedroom door. Harry looked around. No windows, no closets. Nowhere to hide.
"Come on, close the door behind you." Gun in hand, Jack took quick strides to the bedroom and into the dark walk-in closet. Harry followed suit. Barely having a chance to take a breath before they heard the door to the bedroom open.
"…Don't give me that shit Karl, I want his hands in a fucking jar by the end of the week. And that bitch of his on her knees, right here in the center of this room."
Jack's hand flexed hard around the handle of his weapon, his teeth grinding together as the rage inside of him flared. Fuck this guy.
Before he had a chance to move, Harry was facing him, bracing a hand against his chest and blocking the exit with his body.
It was sounding like the Karl guy was Ian's replacement. "We found the cottage they were hiding in up North. We're close boss. Real close."
You have no idea cocksucker, Jack thought as they heard the distinct beeps and automatic click of the study door.
The voices were barely audible and the door was still open. Which meant Knight must've nearly sound-proofed the room as well. Nearly. The distinct loud discharge of a handgun would still have to be avoided.
"Plan B," Jack muttered under his breath.
It was a short discussion. Jack spouted a quick plan to Harry. And when everyone else objected, he took the earpiece out of his ear to silence them. "This ends now. I'm doing this Harry. With or without you. So, make up your mind."
Harry cursed sharply before nodding and following suit by plucking out the earpiece. Then Jack holstered up and leaned down. Lifting up one of his pants legs to access the ankle sheathe and withdrew what had recently become his favorite knife. He flipped it easily into his left hand. "Game on."
They walked to the edge of the door, their backs to the wall, and waited. Discussion between the two inside the study had changed to details about some kind of new pipeline the Cartel was setting up.
Finally, Jack heard the words of dismissal from Knight he'd been waiting for.
"I have work to do. Give me an hour. Call for an update on the hunt and bring good news back to me Karl. Understand?"
"You got it boss."
Footfalls led to the open door. Now, timing was everything.
Scenarios on how to play this out had been cycling through Jack's mind. But it would be Karl who decided for him.
There was a slim chance the guy would walk through the door with a quick stride and not see them.
Most likely he would, and the key would be to take him out of the equation quickly and for Harry to get inside the room to handle Knight.
Jack hoped Knight's little study makeover didn't include a hidden weapon close to his desk or a panic button he'd missed during their earlier search.
Maybe Karl was the only one packing.
What Jack hadn't been ready for was the size of the guy. He found himself at eye level with Karl's massive shoulder when he crossed the threshold.
Then level with his throat as the guy caught sight of them in his peripheral and turned. A second later Jack was squaring off as Karl's eyes widened with shock, his hand reaching for the weapon at his side.
Jack gauged the power behind the punch as he threw it. Coming straight down the pipe, and connecting with the Hulk's bobbing Adam's apple, while Harry slid his way behind them and slipped into the study.
Too hard and the strike would be fatal. A collapsed trachea meant no air after all.
But his plan wasn't to kill him. It was to stun. And he felt a surge of pride that he hadn't lost his touch when it worked like a charm.
Karl's gun slipped back into its holster before he'd had a chance to remove it. His hands shooting up to cradle his throat as his face reddened. Eyes bulging as he struggled to breathe.
Not giving him a chance to recover, Jack shoulder-checked him into the study and closed the door behind them.
One swift kick to the back of Karl's calf had him thudding to his knees.
Immediately Karl leaned forward, bracing himself on his hands as he traded a coughing fit for huge gulps of air as he rocked through the pain.
Meanwhile, Jack retrieved the gun from Karl's holster and tucked it into the back of his waistband.
Experiencing a bit of Déjà vu the moment he reached down. Using the palm of his hand on Karl's forehead to pull him upright, as he staged his knife at his throat.
Not unlike Ian on the plane.
Just the thought of it again had the rage building. Remembering how battered Sam had been when he'd gotten to her. Feeling like he'd been too late.
Taking a few deep breaths, he took a moment to fight it back before looking up to meet Knight's eyes.
Anger was there. Fear too. Just enough fear to make this work. It seemed the Déjà vu went both ways.
Knight was in black slacks and a charcoal button-down shirt while Harry stood next to him. Pressing a gun to the base of his skull as he sat in the comfy desk chair.
Jack smirked, "Well, now…doesn't this look familiar." His eyes narrowed, "Seems you owe me something you piece of shit."
Knight pulled his bandaged right hand just a bit closer to his body.
"Screw you," Knight sneered, "kill me and it's over. You're not getting out of here alive you know. And neither is she. She's close, isn't she? Of course, that bitch…"
Harry cut him off, smacking the back of his head hard with the butt of the gun before he could finish.
Knight cried out, swearing as he gingerly palmed the spot and checked it for blood.
Nothing yet. But seeing a healthy knot already forming when he turned to glare at Harry, was the only thing that kept Jack from abandoning the plan altogether and gutting the man right there.
"Now, now…no need to get nasty Dennis," Harry said calmly. "Just tell us where the laptop is and my friend here won't have to finish what he started with that hand of yours."
Knight's face paled at the mention of his laptop. "Do you see a laptop asshole?! I don't keep one here obviously. It's at work."
Jack tsked. The guy was a terrible liar.
"Okay, let me break it down for you." He whispered the blade along Karl's jugular as he spoke slowly. "Let's take a moment, and look at what we have here."
"We have a knife." He held it up for display before pointing at Harry. "A gun. A soundproof room, and time." He shot him a ruthless smile. "Oh! And my personal favorite, experience."
His gaze met Harry's. "I'd say between the two of us we have, what, almost forty years of government-sanctioned torture expertise?"
Harry shrugged. "Not to mention unsanctioned."
Jack feigned a look of glorious surprise, tapping the flat of the blade against the crown of his head. "Ah yes! Unsanctioned! How could I forget."
He gave Knight a wink and leaned close to Karl's ear with a stage whisper, "We're not allowed to put those on the resume."
Karl swallowed audibly, finally recovered from the earlier assault, and remained frozen as the point of the knife dipped back down to trace the back of his ear.
"Look on the bright side," Jack said as he straightened. "You have a choice here fellas. Either one of you can tell us where the laptop is, or, I get to have my fun, and they can squeegee whatever's left of you two into that big vase over there."
Harry pursed his lips nonchalantly and looked over at the object in question, nodding in agreeance. "Reasonable. I like that."
Even at that distance, Jack could see the beads of sweat forming on Knight's upper lip and pressed the tip of the blade into flesh.
Karl sucked in a painful breath. "Tell them." He gritted out finally. "Tell them or I will."
"Shut up you idiot!" Knight barked angrily, attempting to stand. Only to be roughly shoved back into the seat by Harry. Wincing as the barrel of the handgun dug into the meat of his clavicle.
When Jack sunk the tip a quarter inch deeper into the nerves and twisted, he knew the radiating pain would make it difficult for Karl to pinpoint the injury. It most likely felt like he had cut through half of his ear by now.
Karl's sharp curse ended on a whimper. "Okay, okay! It's the vase! There's a button just under the lip of it."
As Knight erupted with a rash of insults and threats, Jack rolled his eyes. Of course. The thing stuck out like a sore thumb. He'd even grabbed the edge and tilted it side to side while looking for a panel or hidden doorway during the search.
With a hand wrapped around Knight's throat and the gun pressed into his spine, Harry tugged him up and walked him over to it. "Push it, or I'll drop you right here and push it myself."
Knight tried a last-ditch attempt to reason. "Harry, come on man. You still have a chance to walk away here. Walk away and I'll make you richer than your wildest dreams. You'll be set for life. Think about it…you and your family, safe, without a care in the world."
To any other man, it might have looked like Harry was considering the proposition when he froze. But Jack saw the hand around Knight's throat tighten. Noticed the barrel digging even deeper into his spine at the mention of a family. It seemed his secret was out.
Knight made a gagging noise and grabbed futilely at the fingers depriving him of his next breath. Having a bandaged hand wasn't helping.
Harry was stronger than he looked. Leaning forward so 'ol Dennis could hear him through the panic.
"Push…the…button."
Immediately Knight's hands shot out towards the vase, slapping at the lip of it, then underneath.
A small click and the middle bookshelves slid back a foot and parted like a magic trick, opening behind the cases at the ends of the room, and revealing another mini office slash 'crash pad' within.
A brown fabric reclining couch with a stained coffee table, a standing rack of clothes hanging in the corner, and a mini-fridge fit in the small alcove before them.
It reminded Jack of his first apartment.
"Huh. Guess your fancy designer didn't make it this far, eh?" Knight was too busy coughing and swearing to respond.
Then Jack's eyes locked onto the silver laptop sitting on the coffee table. Bingo
