Chapter 13, part 2.
People moved out of her way, their eyebrows raised, as she ran through the corridors. She barely halted for long enough to knock and didn't wait for a response before bursting through the door to the general's office.
Carter wasn't alone, she saw—an officer whose face looked familiar, though not enough to remember where she'd seen him before, sat in the chair in front of the CO's desk.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," Alice breathed, coming in unceremoniously. "This is urgent." And she eyed the other officer: he was wearing a service dress uniform with a captain's silver double bar on the epaulettes. "It's about the leak."
"Captain Dorsey, please excuse us for a moment," Carter dismissed the man politely, and Alice finally remembered: he was in charge of the SGC's complement of paper-pushers, the accounting and administration staff housed at the top levels of the complex.
"Certainly, ma'am." He left quickly, closing the door behind him.
"I found Paul Emerson," Alice announced, dropping onto the other empty chair and handing Carter a thin folder.
"How? You told me weeks ago that there was nothing amongst the evidence we'd gathered to indicate his current whereabouts?" Carter's raising tone made this statement into a question.
"That's because there wasn't," Alice confirmed, gesticulating excitedly and speaking so fast she almost stumbled on her words. "So, instead, I set up a trap for him. In all his communication with Martinez, he always used a similar encryption model. It's tied to the pixels in the transferred image that accompanies the message, and in itself is a one-time secure key, but I noticed there was a pattern in how the message was tied to the pixels. So I wrote a little program to warn me whenever a similar pattern would be used anywhere on the internet—essentially like a Google Alert, only it worked on the dark web, too. And I just got a hit, so I traced the signal—it bounced off seven proxy servers, but I managed to get a physical location. It's somewhere in the outskirts of Sankt Petersburg."
"Russia. Figures." Carter shook her head, opening the folder and skimming the contents. "That's a real fine job there, Major—great idea and even better execution. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself."
"You have quite a lot of other things on your mind, ma'am," Alice reminded her, a bit distractedly. She was too anxious to get to this Paul Emerson to appreciate the compliment. "It took me almost half an hour to trace his position, but there's a chance he's still there—can we go after him?"
"We can't, but let's mobilize the NID, they'll coordinate with Interpol and the local police." The general reached out for the phone and hit a speed-dial number. She put it on speakerphone immediately.
"Barrett here," a man's voice replied after only two rings. Alice recognized it from the conference call Carter had let her listen to that had introduced her to the subject.
"Malcolm, this is Sam. We think we've got a location on Paul Emerson."
The NID agent whistled. "How?"
"Some very clever thinking on the part of Major Boyd. He was active online about forty minutes ago, somewhere in Sankt Petersburg." And she read off the precise location from the folder Alice had given her. "This needs to be lightning-fast if we wanna have a prayer of catching up to him."
"Understood. I'll get to work immediately. Can you handle notification to the IOA?"
"Will do. Thanks." She hung up the phone and looked back up at Alice. "The important part's done. Now I'm gonna have to play a little politics—the Russian IOA rep won't like us making moves on his territory one bit, even if we do it via Interpol." She sighed and glanced left, to the glass window that was also a star map and permitted her to look into the Briefing Room. "You're scheduled to go offworld soon, aren't you?"
Alice checked her watch. "Yes, ma'am—in thirty-five minutes."
Carter nodded. "Go get ready, then, but come up here before you go through. We may have some news by then."
"Yes, ma'am." Alice rose and left quickly.
She was back thirty minutes later, dressed in her leather getup and armed with a Zat and a knife—Jake's birthday present.
"They missed him," Carter said as soon as Alice entered. She seemed aggravated. "By exactly two minutes. There was a car chase and all, but he's in the wind again."
"That can't be a coincidence," Alice asserted, propping herself up on the backrest of the chair in front of her and leaning forward. "Someone tipped him off."
"Yep, that's our conclusion, too. Unfortunately, this was put together so fast that operational security wasn't a priority—a fair number of people had to be informed, both at the NID and the Interpol and the local law enforcement. We'll have fun trying to find whomever it was."
"I'll try to help once I'm back," Alice offered.
"I'll count on that." Carter nodded. "But for now—good luck on your mission."
"Thank you, ma'am." Alice straightened up and walked away. Thirty seconds later she was in the Gate Room; Rodriguez was already waiting for her. She gestured at him to pass her a grey canvas bag he was holding that she slung over her shoulder, with the strap across her torso; she then turned around and gestured at the Gate technician to begin dialing.
"Everything alright there?" Rodriguez asked, more casually than he usually did and Alice knew he was already settling into his character.
"Nothing to worry about right this moment," she replied, watching the kawoosh without even so much as a blink. It used to make her jerk back, she remembered; but it had been a long time ago.
They stepped through confidently. It was an important day; they were finally coming back to the very first planet they had visited as Nova and Levi. There was a chance that the men they'd bested then would like some revenge; Watson and Morgan had gone through an hour earlier to have a look around, but they had no way of warning them without blowing their cover, which they were told not to do, so it was more of a pro forma thing.
Nobody lay in wait for them on the other side, and Alice and Rodriguez made it to the village-market unbothered. They took a leisurely stroll along the road, looking at the stalls on the way, but only halted for real by Merlon's Magical Marvels.
"Ah, customers!" The shopkeeper exclaimed with delight, but then he must have recognized them, because his face fell a little. "Are you here about the thing I sold you a week ago? Because I had told you fair and square that it was broken, so I'm not taking any returns!"
Alice smiled brightly. "Actually, we're here to see if you'd like to buy it back."
"Buy it back?" He laughed with derision. "Why would I want to buy back a piece of junk?"
"You wouldn't want to buy that," Alice admitted light-heartedly. "But I thought you'd be interested in a fully functional Ori stun weapon at a bargain." And she pulled a silver crescent from her canvas bag—the very same he had sold her the last time.
He smiled condescendingly. "Did you really think you could pull a fast one on me? This is the same piece of junk, I recognize the scratch near the end."
Alice nodded, unfazed. "It's hardly in mint condition. But it's working now."
He ignored the second part of the sentence. "Listen, I get it, you made a mistake—we all do them from time to time, nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I'll do you a favor and take it off your hands—for one pound of Naquadah."
"I was thinking more like thirty pounds."
He looked like he choked on his laughter. "Thirty pounds?! For that piece of junk?! You must be crazy if you think I'll fall for it."
Alice mounted the Ori device on her wrist and aimed it somewhere behind Marlon. It came off with a sound that resembled a mix of a metallic clang and an electric discharge; the energy beam dissipated harmlessly into the ground.
Marlon jumped sideways, surprised and perhaps a bit scared, and a few heads among the crowd got turned, but people around went back to their own affairs very quickly. Rodriguez merely shifted on his feet, throwing them cautious looks, playing his part perfectly—he was supposed to be the "muscle" of their two-man operation.
"Like I said—it's working now," Alice repeated with a little triumphant smile. "I fixed it. It'll fire reliably every time until the power source is depleted—which won't happen for many years, since it's Ori technology."
"You fixed it?" He gingerly stepped back behind the stall, watching Alice pull the device off her hand.
"I did." She eyed Rodriguez with a snicker. "I'd love to say that Levi helped, but, well. He was there, I guess."
"Hey, I totally helped!" He protested good-naturedly. "I, like, brought you water once while you worked!"
Alice rolled her eyes and focused on Marlon again. "Listen, I could probably get fifty or sixty pounds of weapons-grade Naquadah for this toy on the open market—but I'm not really made to stand behind a stall for hours on end, waiting for customers. I'd much rather work on the supply end. So here's the deal: I paid three pounds for this thing. I fixed it and I'm gonna sell it back to you for thirty—that gives me twenty-seven pounds of net gain. You, on the other hand, can easily find someone who'll buy it for fifty pounds—or more, if you negotiate right. That gives you at least twenty pounds of pure profit. Everybody wins—even your customer, because they'll be getting a working, reliable weapon, not one of those ringers that look like gold but aren't, if you catch my drift."
Marlon frowned deeply, looking at the device in Alice's hand. "How do I know it'll work as you promise?"
"You can have a look and check it yourself," she encouraged, handing it over. "Plus, I'm staking my professional reputation on it. If you're not satisfied with the deal down the road, we just don't work together ever again."
He examined the weapon closely and Alice wondered how much did he actually know about the technology. Clearly, he had been unable to mend it himself—but he dealt with things like that all the time, so he had to have some understanding of it. That was all the better—Alice was confident in her handiwork.
"Work together again, you say?" He repeated slowly, not looking at her.
"Yeah, well, if you have more things like that—tech that doesn't work—I might be interested to take it off your hands at a bargain. When I fix it, I'll give you the first option to buy it back for a good price, so we can both profit."
"And if you don't manage to fix it?" He asked, putting the device carefully on one of the shelves of his booth.
"Let me worry about that." She shrugged, and then added boldly: "I will manage to fix it eventually. It's just a matter of time."
"You're awfully sure of yourself." He shook his head, his eyes sweeping her over, measuring. "Where did you learn so much about this stuff?"
"My mom was blended with a Tok'ra scientist," she said offhandedly. "I spent ten years helping her in research on Ancient technology while everyone here still thought Goa'uld power was magic."
The cutting remark didn't go over with Marlon too well, but he swallowed a retort. Instead, he eyed her carefully again and reached under his shelves. He brought out a small wooden box and pulled an even smaller device that looked like a smooth stone with a triangle of glass or crystal. "You know what this is?"
"A Goa'uld short range communicator." Alice nodded. She'd seen one in the Groom Lake's vaults, though they didn't let her take it to sell—they only had the one piece.
"Can you fix that?"
"Haven't done that one yet, but that's never stopped me before," she answered confidently. Even if she couldn't, she was sure the Groom Lake engineers had it figured out by now. "What do you want for that?"
"A working piece goes for ten pounds—so I'll take one."
"Half," she responded immediately.
"Fine," he agreed quickly, making her think he would've given it to her for free if she insisted. He put it on a lower shelf, closer to Alice, and then pulled another small box, this one locked with a key he had on a chain around his neck. "So, you leave me the Ori stun weapon and take the communication device, that'll be…"
"Thirty pounds," Alice supplied helpfully. He jerked his head up to look at her and she smiled insolently. "I'm rounding it up."
He grumbled, but it seemed that he agreed, for he produced a roughly four-by-ten inch brick of Naquadah and laid it next to the communicator. Alice put it into her belt pouch and threw the device unceremoniously into her canvas bag.
"You drive a hard bargain," Marlon said, and it almost sounded like a compliment.
"Don't tell me you don't enjoy it." She grinned at him. "Pleasure doing business with you. We'll be back."
He nodded but didn't assure them of looking forward to it this time. Nevertheless, as Alice and Rodriguez were walking away, they heard him greet a new client, apparently interested in purchasing the weapon whose presentation he'd seen a few moments before.
They reached the Stargate unmolested and went through to their intermediate planet to wait for Watson and Morgan. Alice thought they should leave some books laying around so they could read while waiting—a silly notion, of course, but it amused her for a moment to imagine it. Mostly, she didn't like uninterrupted time in which her personal cloud of darkness could attack her; she used to love being alone with her thoughts—now it was torture. Out of desperation, she talked to Rodriguez about nothing important, even though she didn't like meaningless chatter.
"You know, ma'am, you really become a different person when you're in character," he told her after a while of idle conversation. "It's very impressive."
"Yeah, who would've thunk." She smiled, shaking her head. It was a mystery to her—she really did feel confident while out there as Nova Ray. She didn't need to think too much about what Nova should do or say, it came out naturally. It was like, when stepping into Nova's shoes, she was leaving all of the doubt and worry, and insecurity behind. Nova didn't second-guess her every move. She was tough and sure of herself. Alice, on the other hand… well, Alice was broken. Shattered into a thousand pieces that she was desperately trying to put together again, knowing in her heart that it was all in vain. And hating herself for it. Adversity was supposed to make you strong and unyielding, but Alice felt weak and vulnerable. These few hours when she was Nova she could pretend like she was a whole person again. "But I'm equally impressed with you, Lieutenant. Your Levi is a perfect counterbalance to my Nova."
He smiled nervously. "Well, ma'am, you know I have an older sister—so that dynamic is very familiar to me. Makes it easy."
Alice nodded understandingly. It explained a lot. "But that's the point—we draw from our own lives to make our characters more real. So, good job with that."
"Thank you, ma'am."
They lapsed into silence after that, sitting on the fallen log. Alice was still pondering the differences between herself and her undercover identity. Nova is me if I had never met Jareth, she concluded eventually. Or gone to the future.
If there was no Jareth, Alice's career on Atlantis might have been a tad slower, but it would have been more steady. She would've continued to grow and learn, and become more confident in herself—but without all this doubt, shame and guilt that haunted her now. Whether or not she would've ended up with Karim in that scenario was a secondary question; either way, she would've been happy. The memory of the feeling of belonging she had had before that fateful trip through the Gate that had thrown her forty years into hell on Earth actually made her tear up and she had to carefully look away to make sure Rodriguez didn't spot the wetness in her eyes. She missed it so much… she missed him so much…
Thankfully, at that moment the Gate activated and Watson and Morgan came through, pulling Alice out of her spiral into darkness and forcing her to focus on the present. They went back to Earth discussing spiritedly this new stage of their operation and making bets on how many resellers Alice could flip to work with her.
Alice asked about the Paul Emerson case after the debriefing, before Carter had a chance to lock herself in her office again.
"We found the guy who tipped him off," the general told her grievously. "Turned out to be pretty easy—it was one of the local policemen. Emerson paid him off, just in case. About the only good thing about this whole affair is that the cop didn't know how we found him, so there's a chance he'll use the same encryption signature again."
Alice shook her head, feeling deflated. "Not likely. If he's smart—and we know that he is—he'll already have connected his post with the sudden action against him, and he'll be more careful in the future. Did they search his room? Was there anything useful?"
"Maybe. He left his laptop behind, but he wiped out the hard drive thoroughly. Still, perhaps we will be able to recover something—he's good, but I doubt he understands just how good we are. He took his phone with him, but it's more than likely that he'd already destroyed it, or perhaps it's at the bottom of the river. Interpol has had an eye on the airports, train and bus stations, and even the port of Saint Petersburg, but they had no hits. He probably changed cars and simply left the city—and searching for him in Russia will be like looking for a needle in a haystack, if the haystack actively tried to make it harder." She sniggered.
"I'd like to examine that hard drive myself, if possible," Alice ventured.
"It's gonna go through the NID and the Groom Lake people first, but if they don't find anything, I don't see why you shouldn't get a crack at it," Carter agreed.
"And our British friends are still unforthcoming on the subject?"
The general nodded reluctantly. "From what we could gather—via the CIA, mind you, and they didn't really know what they were asking about—Paul Emerson used an old contact from the SIS to sell the story to them. Intelligence agencies buy information all the time, as a matter of course, but the politicians and diplomats can hardly admit that they'd been buying intel on Stargate operations, knowing full well that it's classified internationally at the highest levels. There's even a clause about it in the agreement that established the IOA. They won't say anything because it would mean copping to breaking those clauses."
"That's crazy." Alice shook her head in dismay. "If they just manned up and told us everything, it could help us find Emerson."
"That's politics for ya. They won't even confirm that he's ex-MI6—though CIA is fairly certain that he is."
"Fairly certain?"
"They tell me there are rarely absolute certainties in the intelligence games." Carter shrugged. "At any rate, we're stuck again. That hard drive is our only possible lead at the moment. Hell, we're not even sure if Paul Emerson is his real name—there was a colonel in the Program by that name, first captain of the Odyssey, it might be a coincidence but… well, we don't know what it would mean if it's not."
Alice nodded and soon thereafter headed back to her lab to work on the short range communication device she'd got from Marlon. It didn't even take her two hours to take it apart, find the fault, fix it, and put it back together again. She needed another piece to test if it worked, so she put in a request to Groom Lake to have their copy shipped to the SGC, and then went back to her own research.
It was quite late and she was deep in thought when her phone rang. It was so unexpected it made her literally jump off her chair and she had to scramble back to pick up the smartphone from the table, where it lay under two layers of paper sheets.
"Hello?" She breathed into the mike, getting up again and dashing to the door to close it.
"Hi, Allie," said the familiar voice of her favorite cousin. She put him on speakerphone, walking past the table and dropping into a chair at her desk.
"Hey, Tobey!" She exclaimed, delighted and a little apprehensive at the same time. "How are you doing?"
"I'm okay," he answered, sounding a little subdued.
"Are you sure? I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry—but your dad told me about Samantha…"
He sighed loudly into the receiver. "Figures. I'm fine, really—I mean, you know, I'm pretty bummed about it, but I'll live. One doesn't die of broken heart."
"I'm so sorry," she said with genuine sympathy. "This sucks."
"Yeah. Well, anyway, I'm calling—well, I guess I'm calling to thank you. Dad came home yesterday to tell me that I should move somewhere, and that he was in a position to have me reassigned to Peterson or Schriever—but that you made him ask me first if I even wanted it. That's probably the first time in my life he has ever asked that question, so—thanks."
"I'm surprised he actually listened to me," she admitted. "He can be a little stuck in his ways…"
"A little?" Tobey scoffed. "I think he relented only because he's so preoccupied with Jodie. You know, at least one of his kids is living up to his traditionalist standards."
Alice frowned. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."
"Oh, shit, he didn't tell you?" Tobey hesitated. "I guess it won't hurt if I share with you… just don't tell Jodie I said anything, okay?"
"Sure," she promised.
"Jodie's preggo," he announced. "And she decided to quit her job and become a stay-at-home mom, like God and the GOP command." There was audible sarcasm in his voice; apparently, he wasn't impressed with her choice.
"Wow." Alice shook her head, leaning back on the chair. "I mean, that's great, I'm definitely happy for her—but, you know, wow."
"Right? My stupid big sister is gonna have a baby. Kinda scary," he gibed.
"That's not what I mean—though certainly I can't quite imagine our harebrained, flighty Jodie as a mother. But, then again, she used to be so boy-crazy, I didn't really believe she'd ever settle down with one—but her and Tyler have been going strong."
"Yeah, but it hasn't been even a whole year," Tobey noted. "They're still in the honeymoon phase. They can still crash and burn."
"That's true for a relationship of any length," Alice protested. "I certainly wish them all the best."
"I pity the baby. With a mother like that…" Tobey jeered.
"Oh, come on. She's a good person—I'm sure she'll be a good mom, too," Alice contradicted seriously, though with a note of doubt in her voice. "It's just—she's so young, you know?"
"She's twenty-eight, she ain't that young anymore," he reminded her.
Alice sighed. "I know, I know—but she's always seemed younger to me."
"That's because you've always been ahead of the curve. You got more life packed into your years," he commented offhandedly.
She smiled wistfully. You have no idea, cousin.
"Perhaps," she allowed, and then decided it was time to get back to the previous subject. "And what about your life? You spoke to your dad, how did that conversation go?"
"A bit contentious, like all real talks with my dad." He exhaled, sounding frustrated. "He says I could move to Command and Control at Schriever easily, I'd be doing the same thing I am here—or I could try Space Control at Peterson, which would be something new for me."
"Alright, but do you actually want to leave L.A.?"
He was silent for a moment. "Maybe. I don't know. Maybe it's time to move on." He didn't specify if he meant move on with his career or with his life. Maybe it was both.
"Well, you have time to think it over—there's no rush, right?"
"There's a bit of a rush," he contradicted with a sigh. "There's some reshuffling coming in at Peterson—perfect time to put for a reassignment there. Could work even without dad's influence."
"So you're considering Peterson more than Schriever?"
"Well, if I'm gonna make a change, why not go all the way?" He sounded a little exasperated—with what, she didn't know. "I don't wanna get stuck in the same place, if you know what I mean. Learning new stuff is the part of the job I enjoy."
Alice only hmphed at that. If Tobey was bored with satellite work after a mere year at C2 in Los Angeles, she didn't think he'd find Space Control overly fascinating—unless, of course, he landed in the maximum-security unit of it that watched over the signals from next-gen satellites and sensors on behalf of the SGC. She blinked, realizing that she was now in a position to help him get that assignment, if she wanted to. But just as she recoiled from using connections to help herself, she cringed at the thought of doing the same for someone else. She'd be happy to assist him in settling in the new base and city, but she would have no part in the kind of nepotism games both her uncles delighted in.
"You don't agree?" He asked after a moment's silence. "Think I should stick to what I know?"
"I don't know, Tobey. You've only done a year in C2 as a crew leader—that's not a lot. Are you sure there aren't any more things you can learn there?"
"I'm sure there are, I'm just—I'm not that interested, I guess?" The exasperation was back in his voice. "I guess I'm looking for something where I could use my engineering skills more than just oversee what people do."
Alice snickered. "That's what being an officer is, I'm afraid."
"Not for you," he accused.
"I have a team," she protested.
"It's not the same."
"How do you even know if it's the same? You don't know what I do."
"I know you're not working on satellites, that's for sure."
"I am working on satellites!" She thought of her pet project—miniaturizing the Asgard transport system to fit on a satellite. "Ish," she added as an afterthought.
He sighed. "I just want to do something interesting. I thought Space and Missiles would be—" He stopped, hesitating.
"You thought it'd be more like NASA or JPL," she supplied.
"Maybe a little," he admitted. "More often than not it's just boring. You sit in a windowless room full of computer screens and watch your people make sure that all the satellites are working fine."
"Well, if that's your view—Space Control is a little more reactive than that. It's still mostly sitting in a windowless room full of computer screens, but there's always some space junk flying overhead you can track, or a deep-space object to take a look at. Or, you may be trying to jam or prevent jamming of satellites. And so on and so forth."
"What does one have to do to join your squadron? You're part of the 21st, too, right?" He referred to the 21st Space Wing, which was the unit Alice was assigned to, according to her cover.
She sighed deeply. "It's not that easy. You have to have very specific skills."
"And you don't think I have them?" His voice sounded a little offended, she thought.
"Frankly, I have no idea. I don't think you've had a chance yet to demonstrate any of them. Don't get me wrong, Tobey—I know you're a great officer and engineer, and I personally have no doubt in your integrity and abilities. But it's not enough to get here—you have to actually show what you can do to get noticed by people who make these decisions. I'm not like your dad—I can't help you there."
"I know, and, you know, fair enough. I mean, I don't even know what it is that you do, except that it seems much more exciting than anything else I've seen happening within Space Operations—and more dangerous…"
"You've got that right," she confirmed, but didn't elaborate.
"But." He paused, as if wondering how to phrase his thoughts. "If you could point me in the right direction… you know, what could I do to increase my chances… maybe there's something, some part of our training I could focus on… nothing classified, of course, just some general idea…"
She breathed heavily. "Oh, Tobey. You're gonna be the death of me. Okay, if you move out here, I'll try to think of ways to help you along your way." She couldn't tell him anything specific—but nobody should begrudge her if she decided to coach her younger cousin a little, should they?
"Fantastic!" He enthused. Compared to the beginning of the conversation, when he sounded really subdued and down, he was now an epitome of energy and happiness. "Thank you, Allie!"
"Does that mean that you've decided on Space Control and Peterson already? Just because of me?" She shook her head.
"Oh, you know—I've been thinking about it seriously for a while, actually. It's not a snap decision," he assured her. "Though I have to admit, the idea of having someone there to help me along is nice. Not that I need it, of course," he affirmed quickly. "But it's a perk, you know?"
She snickered. "Sure, sure."
"Anyway, I think I'll tell dad yes. For once I get to be the good child."
"Just don't get used to it," she quipped, and they both laughed.
"Alright. Thanks, Allie—I better leave you alone now. It was good to talk to you."
"At your service, cousin. Take care."
"You too. Bye."
The connection dropped off. Alice shook her head, half-amused and half-annoyed at Tobey. She could never tell him no—and she could hardly help it. She really liked him; he was usually such an energetic person. Being rather introverted and—especially recently—dark person herself, she gravitated towards those who exuded positivity. In the long term, their presence was often tiresome, and she needed to take breaks; but it didn't stop her from enjoying time spent with them before her batteries ran out and she had to escape to be alone for a while and recharge them. Of course, lately being alone wasn't all that good anymore; anytime she was alone and idle, the darkness threatened to overwhelm her… Just like now. She had to keep busy—or risk drowning again.
She shook her head, moved back to the table in the middle of the room, and focused on her work.