Chapter Twenty-Four - Grace

Six months before the time jump

The waiting was the hardest part. Thanks to the photos she'd gotten off the Congressman's computer, Grace had some idea of what she was looking for, but that was the only thing that gave her any hope that she could actually stop this thing.

And it was just getting more and more important to her that she actually managed to stop it. Like even though she had no real memories of being abducted at thirteen, she needed to do this to remind herself that she wasn't the helpless little girl she'd been back then.

She scanned the park. Watched for signs that something, anything was off. Even just a little.

"Grandma! Watch me!"

There was a wave from the bench where the Congressman's mother-in-law settled in with her paperback thriller.

Grace's stomach clenched. Why the Congressman hadn't insisted on better security for his daughter after getting the threats was beyond her. At least when Grace's family had been in danger, her parents had taken it seriously. Had a network of people they knew they could count on when and if things went pear-shaped.

Either the Congressman was an idiot or he was in on it. How or why, Grace wasn't sure, but that was her instinct.

She'd begun to wonder if she'd made a mistake when one figure approached the grandmother and another approached the little girl. Tried to offer her something to eat. All while the grandmother was tied up with the other...

Too convenient.

She caught her father's eye. He gestured to the older woman, and Grace nodded. Then, Grace approached the woman in the jeans and hooded sweatshirt. "Hey, this woman bothering you, little girl?"

Before the child had a chance to argue, the other woman caught hold of her arm. "Excuse me, but what I do with my daughter is none of your business."

The child looked up at her. "I'm not your daughter!"

Relying on the self-defense that Teal'c had taught her, Grace jumped into action when the woman tried to snatch the girl and clap a hand over her mouth. "I don't think so."

Grace elbowed the woman in the stomach. Hit the woman's wrist. As the child screamed for her grandmother.

The would-be abductor glared at Grace and attempted a clumsy roundhouse kick, allowing Grace to grab her foot and knock her to the ground. "What do you think you're doing?"

Grace sucked in a breath as she dropped to the ground beside the assailant, and flipped her onto her stomach, grabbed her hands behind her and placed the zip tie her father had handed her before they got here. "I think I'm keeping a little girl safe."

Grace looked over to find her dad across the park. The little girl and her grandmother reunited while he ziptied the man's hands together.

The way her father's face shone with pride in her direction was something Grace wasn't sure she'd ever forget.

It wasn't long before the police appeared and the apprehended kidnappers were carted away. Her dad squeezed her shoulder as they watched the scene unfold, having endured questioning and being released to go home now. "I'm proud of you, kid. That was impressive."

She gave him an appreciative smile. "Thanks, Dad. I couldn't have done it without you."

He shook his head. "That's not true. You had this all in hand. I didn't do much at the Congressman's house except distract him. I could have done that over the phone."

They started the trek back to her dad's truck. "This was one of those days where I remembered why I became a reporter. I wanted to affect change."

Her dad's smile was gentle. "Good."

"Well, it would be good if I wasn't going to get fired."

Her dad's brow furrowed. "Fired? Because you turned in a story early?"

She shook her head. "Because it's not going to be a story tomorrow."

"Ah."

Grace stuffed her hands in her pockets with a shrug. "It was the right thing to do. I just need to figure out what the next step is. You know, if they actually fire me."

Her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Well, you'd be a crack private eye."

Grace giggled. "Thanks, Dad."

Present Day - three months after visiting the White House

The alarm on the nightstand went off, and Grace slapped at it haphazardly. Not that there was much reason to get up these days. Not after the president had shuffled them off to the Pentagon to get relocated and assimilated into this timeline.

They'd been separated, too. Not allowed to communicate without clearance from their handlers.

A white fluff ball appeared over Grace's face with an insistent meow. Then, the long hair cat kneaded Grace's sternum.

"I'm up, Jasmine. Just give me a minute."

Grace rolled out of bed, her head aching as she made it upright again. She kneaded her temples to keep the migraine at bay. Then, with sneaking suspicion, she looked over at the typewriter on her desk.

The president had been nervous that with Jacob's engineering background and obvious tinkering, allowing them private internet access would have security implications for the current timeline. One that the president seemed to like just the way it was.

Regardless how much evidence was presented to her that this timeline was the mistake.

Grace shuffled past the typewriter, only hesitating a moment when she caught the sight of the paper still locked in the device. Just like the story about the congressman's daughter's abduction.

Exhaustion settled over her at the mere sight of the paper.

The last thing she actually wanted to do was read the paper, afraid of what her mind might have done to her. She'd hoped that the prematurely written news stories were a thing of the past in this new timeline, but unfortunately, even with nearly a three month break from them, they had sneaked past her defenses like thieves in the night.

A sharp knock at the door stole her attention. She glanced at the wall clock. Ten after seven.

Who could be coming here at this hour?

The man standing on the other side of the door was strange and yet familiar. She had to stop herself from addressing him the way she might have in another life. "Uh, Colonel O'Neill."

His brown eyes seemed troubled as he looked at her. "Actually, it's General O'Neill. I was promoted recently."

Grace tried to smile, though it felt strange. "Congratulations, but I doubt that was why you came to my house this early."

He glanced around as if checking to see if anyone was tailing him. Then, he looked back at her, his manner still eerily reminiscent of her father when he was feeling anxious. "Can we talk?"

She nodded. "Sure."

Then, he gestured to her house. "Inside?"

It was strange to have the man who looked identical to her father standing on the porch instead of already inside her home. Stranger still with him giving her a look that made her suspect he needed her help. At least he wasn't wearing an Air Force uniform. That would have been a whole other level of fright.

She stepped back and motioned for him to walk inside. "Right. Come on in."

As she gestured for him to settle himself at the kitchen table, she headed for the coffee pot. She had a feeling she'd need something as strong as she could get. "Can I get you something to drink? Water? Coffee?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "Coffee would be great, thanks."

She poured him a cup. Black, just the way he liked it. Added sugar and milk to her own before she brought the mugs to the dining table. "So... General. What brings you to my house?"

He took a sip of the coffee. An expression on his face that she couldn't quite read. Even after knowing his counterpart for as many years as she had.

He raised an eyebrow as he looked down at the coffee. "How'd you know I like it black?"

She shrugged as she took a sip of her own brew. "Lucky guess."

He scrutinized her for a long second before he put the coffee down. "I read the report about you and your brother. That you claim to be the children of Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill."

"Trust me, if I'd known that I was going to be in an alternate timeline, I would have brought the adoption paperwork with me or maybe a photo album." Grace leaned down to pet her cat as Jasmine nuzzled up against her ankle.

The general sighed. "That's hard for me to imagine."

"Being married to the president of the United States?" she asked, casting a sidelong glance in his direction.

Jack snorted. "Actually, no. Having met her, I'm beginning to think I have a type..."

Despite herself, Grace snickered. "That similar to your ex-wife?"

The general's eyes radiated pain. "In this timeline, I don't have an ex. Sara is my late wife."

No matter how painful this timeline was for her, a knife went through Grace's emotions at the thought. "I'm sorry."

He shrugged the way her dad always did when he didn't want to destroy his carefully compartmentalized emotional hold. "What are you going to do?"

Then, after a long moment, he sighed. "Actually, that's kind of why I'm here."

Grace raised an eyebrow, frankly surprised. "Your wife?"

He winced. "Sort of."

He sat back in the chair and eyed her. "My daughter Charli was killed when two gunmen walked through her high school and slaughtered as many of their classmates as they could find."

Grace's stomach churned at the vivid picture. "Actually, I already knew that. About your wife and your daughter. I'm sorry for your loss."

There was a long moment before he spoke again. "I promised myself I wouldn't ask this question, but the longer we keep pretending like nothing happened, the more insistent the thought becomes..."

Grace didn't need him to explain. "You want to know if your daughter's alive in my timeline."

He nodded.

Grace gave him a sympathetic smile. "That's a complicated answer, General. I'm sorry."

"So, I was right. Charli doesn't exist in your timeline. Just your brother and you."

Grace grimaced. "Not exactly. There is a Charlie. He's married. Has a couple kids."

Jack's eyebrows twitched. "Married, huh?"

Grace tried to find the right way to explain. "But there's a reason Sara was your ex-wife in my timeline. And Charlie's story is just a little complicated. So's his wife's."

"Because of the stargate."

Grace nodded.

The Air Force officer pondered this. "You were there when President Carter said they were going to try to start up the stargate project, and I can't help but feel like they're making a huge mistake."

"That's not classified information?" Something about the way her father's doppelganger just let the nugget of information slip made the hair at the back of Grace's neck stand on end. Her father would never have been that careless, so she suspected this version of Jack O'Neill wouldn't be either.

He didn't react. "If it was, what would you say to me asking what you need in order to go back in time?"

Grace's eyebrows shot up. "I was under the impression that the President didn't want anyone helping us fix the timeline."

He nodded slowly, though he didn't really look her in the eye. "As far as I know, she hasn't changed her position on that."

"But you want to know what it would take to go back in time anyway."

There was a long moment, and Grace almost expected him to stand and tell her to forget that he was ever there. But that wasn't Jack O'Neill's style. Not in any timeline she could imagine.

He took another sip of coffee, then set the mug down and looked at the tablecloth. "You claim you were raised by Jack O'Neill, and you're surprised that he'd do anything to see his kid healthy and happy again?"

Grace's throat closed as she remembered the way her dad had crushed her to his chest when she'd finally woken up from her coma. From the way Jacob described how he'd rushed in to save the smaller boy after they'd been abducted. From how even though he never abused it, Charliewas uniquely blessed to have his father's support on anything that could possibly come next. Because Jack knew what it had been like to be without him.

Even as a little girl, she'd known that Jack O'Neill knew what a privilege it was to be a father, and that he would never squander another opportunity. How that knowledge had made her feel safe and secure even in their first moments together.

"You have to admit that you and he aren't the same man," she finally said after a long sip of coffee.

"Maybe not, but I have a hard time believing we're that different." His eyes held a knowing look that she couldn't ignore.

Grace swallowed down a round of tears, suddenly missing her father with a ferocity that had finally started to ebb. "Even if I could tell you what we needed to turn back the clock, I'm at a bit of a disadvantage here."

He cocked his head to the side the way her dad did, his nonverbal cue for her to keep talking.

Then, she sighed. "I'm not allowed to have a computer with internet access in my house because the president's concerned that I'm going to connect with my associates and try to fix the timeline."

The man who looked nearly like her father's twin eyed her with unwavering determination. "You do remember that I was Black Ops, right? I can get you internet. Frankly, I could probably even steal that car you have that they've locked up."

Grace nearly spat out her coffee. "They locked up our car?"

He nodded. "As the new Air Force general assigned to the Stargate project, I can get all of that to you."

Grace's brow furrowed. "The Egyptians just handed over the stargate?"

He shook his head. "Explaining how it all happened probably isn't worth our time right now. Essentially, there's an international contingent working together to use the stargate. They've put up a replica at the museum, and the original–after a startling amount of debate–was placed in Antarctica since it's the closest we can come to a neutral area. With the Egyptians, of all people, in charge."

Grace's eyes widened. "So, you're not really the person with the bargaining power…"

The Air Force general frowned in her direction. "I have plenty of bargaining power. Right now, the Egyptians are still a little too preoccupied with trying to stay warm in Antarctica."

Grace bit back a chuckle at the irony. In her world, she knew how protective the Egyptians could be about their artifacts. Although things had clearly changed between the two timelines, she had a hard time believing things would be that different.

More likely, the general was trying not to let on how tense things were with the Air Force, given how historically problematic relations with middle eastern countries had been.

That hadn't been too different in this timeline. The players had just been a little different.

Grace put her game face back on. "If this is going to be any success, I need everyone I traveled here with, but the only people who know who and where they are is the CIA."

Before the man in front of her could respond, she leaned in with both hands on her coffee cup to anchor her. "How sure are you that you want to do this? It could be the end of everything you've worked for in this timeline if we're caught."

Jack didn't give her any hint of what he was thinking, but in a way, that told her all she needed to know. It was the expression her father always had gotten when things were too painful for him to explain. "Telling you what little I've told you about the current state of affairs should give you some indication of just how seriously I took this. I could be court martialed. Hell, this is probably treason. I'm in this with or without you. I just suspect that things will go better if I've got you and the rest of your, uh, people on my team."

Grace's eyebrows shot up. "Team?"

His expression was oddly calm but his eyes were as determined as she'd ever seen them. "You don't think I'd send you to Egypt in 1928 on your own, do you?"

Grace tried not to think of the ramifications of what it would do if Jack O'Neill came with them. He couldn't come back to the new timeline with them without there being major issues. And although it would be helpful to have his strategic input on the journey, she wasn't entirely sure his emotional baggage wouldn't be just as detrimental.

When Grace didn't immediately answer, he spoke again. "Your friend. The Air Force guy."

Grace's heart leapt into her throat. She hadn't seen him in almost three months. "Trevor?"

The general nodded. "He's working pretty close to me at the Pentagon right now. I could send him a message."

Grace thought back to that piece of paper on her typewriter. Maybe like the adventure she'd had with her father before they actually went back in time, it would give them a place to start looking for answers. "Actually, give me a minute... I might have something that will help."

The Air Force officer raised an eyebrow. "I thought you just said the president cut off your access to your resources."

Grace took the last swig of her coffee. "My brother Charlie might not be the only O'Neill child with a complicated story."

"Complicated, how?"

Grace tensed as she stood. "It's easier to show you than to try to explain."

The general took the typed paper from Grace with a suspicious eye. "What is this?"

Grace shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that I likely typed it in the middle of the night. My newest modus operandi."

He'd never looked more like her father than as he read through the document. "This reads like a press release. Only as far as I know, no one has actually taken the President of the United States hostage."

Grace's eyes widened as she snatched the paper out of his hands. Scanned it with her eagle eye. Officials at the White House declined to comment today on the disappearance of President Samantha Carter from Air Force One earlier today.

Grace read on, her heart pounding in anxiety and anticipation. President Carter was returning from Switzerland, where she and many of the world's leaders signed the Planetary Protection Treaty, which has a goal of reducing carbon emissions by forty percent by the year 2040. It is an aggressive climate change policy backed by several of the world's leading environmental scientists...

The rest blurred in Grace's mind as her eyes drifted to the top of the page. Dated two days from now.

"I should probably explain that when I sleep-report, I'm usually covering events that haven't happened yet."

Jack O'Neill looked back at the paper. "So, any clue if this is something we're supposed to try to stop, or if we're the ones who took her in the first place?"

The knot in the pit of Grace's stomach tightened. "Sorry. Doesn't work that way."

"Oh, good. Then, we're on our own."

Grace tensed the way her mother often did when faced with a challenge that seemed impossible. "Until tomorrow night when I might get another news article."

The general frowned. "Tomorrow night may be too late."

A chill ran down Grace's spine. "You were saying you wanted to help get the band back together? 'Cuz I think we're gonna need a little help..."