The next day, the operation was in full swing. The SG-1 team and MI6 agents were gearing up to deploy to Eastern Europe. Meanwhile, Sam, with only General Landry in on her plan, had quietly set a trap at the SGC. The strategy was straightforward: leak false intel about a highly sensitive alien artifact being transported to a secure location, hoping the mole would take the bait.
Meanwhile, Major Marcus Montague was again being debriefed under tighter security. His testimony had led them this far, but they needed more. As Jack and Sir Charles coordinated the final details of the joint task force, Sam remained behind while the rest of SG-1 was gearing up for the auction sting.
"MI6 has contacts in the region that should allow us to get in undetected. So SG-1 can be discreetly in place at the auction site, General," Sir Charles informed Jack.
"Good," Jack replied. "Let's just hope Mr. Gromit and Mr. Wallace show up. We need to shut this down for good."
As the team prepared to depart, a sudden alarm blared through the SGC's hallways. The mole had taken the bait.
As the shrill alarm echoed through the corridors of the SGC, the atmosphere instantly shifted from controlled anticipation to high alert. Sam's trap had worked perfectly, and it was time to spring it.
In the heart of the SGC's command center, General Landry stood at the center of a flurry of activity, his eyes narrowing as technicians and security personnel scrambled into action. His gaze flicked toward the surveillance screens that showed real-time footage from various points in the base.
"Lock down the base," Landry ordered crisply. "Nobody gets in or out until we have that mole in custody."
On her way to join the rest of SG-1 for the mission to Eastern Europe, Sam turned on her heels and headed back briskly toward the command center. As she approached, Sam's heart raced—not just with adrenaline but with the knowledge that this could be the final piece of the puzzle. The mole's identity had remained elusive for too long, and now they were finally closing in.
She arrived just as Landry was assessing the situation. Sam immediately took her place beside him, her fingers flying across the control panel to bring up the relevant security feeds.
"Where did the breach occur, Sir?" Sam asked, her voice calm despite the tension.
Landry nodded toward the screen.
"Storage Facility B. I planted the false intel on the location as we spoke. Not like we agreed at the briefing room—the artifact supposedly being transferred to the new secure location."
Sam's eyes darted to the feed from the storage facility. A figure moved through the shadows on one of the screens, trying to remain unseen as they approached the secure room. It was a man in an SGC uniform who had intimate knowledge of the base's layout and security protocols.
Sam zoomed in on the figure, her breath catching as the image became more explicit.
"It's… Mitchell?!" Her voice was a mix of shock and disbelief.
Teal'c, who had rushed from the locker room as soon as the alarm started, stepped closer, his brow furrowing as he recognized the man.
"Indeed. It appears Lieutenant Colonel Cameron Mitchell has betrayed us."
Landry's jaw clenched.
"We'll need to act fast. Send a security team to apprehend him immediately."
Within moments, armed personnel were dispatched to intercept the mole. As the security feed tracked Mitchell's movements, it became clear that he was heading directly for the vault where the supposed alien artifact was stored. Jack and Sir Charles arrived moments later, having just been briefed on the situation.
"Mitchell, huh?" Jack said, his voice was stern. "I didn't see that one coming."
"No one did, Sir," Sam replied quietly.
Still not believing what her eyes were seeing, Sam watched intently as the team closed on him, moving swiftly but carefully. Mitchell paused outside the vault door, clearly working to override the access codes. He was good—too good. The door beeped, and the lock disengaged with a quiet click. Just as Mitchell began to push the door open, the security team stormed in, weapons drawn.
"Hands in the air! Now!" one of the security officers barked, his weapon trained on Mitchell's chest.
Cameron froze his expression, a mixture of shock and fury. Slowly, he raised his hands, his face tight with anger and frustration.
"You're making a mistake," Mitchell hissed, his voice dangerously low. "You have no idea what you're dealing with."
The security officers moved quickly, restraining Mitchell and removing any weapons he carried. As they escorted him out of the storage facility, Sam and Teal'c exchanged a glance. Daniel and Vala had joined in and were equally shocked by what they saw.
"Why Cameron?" Sam murmured, still trying to process the revelation. "He is one of us…"
Teal'c's expression remained stoic.
"Deception often comes from those closest to us. It is the nature of such treachery."
Sam sighed, knowing he was right but struggling with the betrayal nonetheless. They went to the Academy together, and she helped him study for the exams. They had fought together in the Gulf War. How could he?
Daniel cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence in the control room.
"We'll need to interrogate him, General. He may have been working with Wallace and Gromit directly."
Landry nodded in agreement.
"I want him in isolation. No one speaks to him until we've had a chance to interrogate him thoroughly."
Sir Charles crossed his arms, his sharp eyes assessing the scene.
"It makes sense, though. Someone in his position would have access to the intel to facilitate smuggling operations. He's been playing both sides."
Jack clenched his jaw, clearly struggling with the idea that someone from SG-1 could be involved in something like this. But there wasn't time to dwell on it—Mitchell was just one piece of the puzzle, and the operation in Eastern Europe was still on.
A short while later, Mitchell was in custody, securely locked away in the SGC's interrogation room. General Landry, Jack, Sam, Daniel, Vala, Teal'c, and Sir Charles Davenport stood outside the room, watching through the observation window.
"We'll need to interrogate him," Landry said, turning to Sam. "But we can't lose focus on the mission. SG-1 needs to get to that auction site. We can't let Mr. Gromit and Mr. Wallace slip through our fingers, Colonel."
Still shocked, Sam nodded, her mind switching gears as she steeled herself for the mission ahead.
"We'll leave immediately, Sir."
Teal'c gave a solemn nod, his gaze lingering on Mitchell's restrained form before he turned to follow Sam, Daniel, and Vala.
"We will return with Mr. Gromit and Mr. Wallace in custody."
Jack clapped his hands together, his voice laced with determination.
"All right, let's get this done. It appears I have a mole to question. But first, let's get to Europe and catch some cartoons. Hold the fort, Hank. We'll be back."
Some hours later, SG-1 and MI6 agents arrived in Eastern Europe, discreetly positioning themselves around the auction site—a lavish estate deep in the countryside. The night was cold, the air crisp with tension. The opulent auction was a front attended by wealthy elites who sought to obtain rare, illegal items, including the alien artifacts stolen from SGC.
Sam, Teal'c, Daniel, Vala, and the MI6 agents had infiltrated the event, blending in with the crowd. Sir Charles and Jack monitored the situation from a distance, coordinating with local MI6 contacts to ensure their cover wasn't blown.
From their vantage points, SG-1 scanned the room, searching for any sign of Mr. Gromit and Mr. Wallace. Since they all had received the photos of Gromit and Wallace on the plane, Sam didn't take long to spot them—two well-dressed men standing near the back of the room, speaking with several other guests in hushed tones.
"That's them," Sam whispered into her comms. "Gromit and Wallace. We've got eyes on them."
"Maintain position," Jack's voice crackled in her ear. "We wait for the exchange to happen. We need hard evidence before we move in."
Minutes ticked by, feeling like hours. The tension in the room was palpable as the auction proceeded, each item more extravagant and illicit than the last. Finally, the auctioneer called for the next lot: a rare alien artifact—a piece of technology smuggled out of the SGC.
As the bidding began, Gromit and Wallace made their move. They stepped forward, discreetly passing a small case to one of the auction's handlers in exchange for a datapad that likely contained access codes or funds.
"That's it," Jack's voice came over the comms. "SG-1, move in. Take them down."
SG-1, backed by MI6 agents, sprang into action, drawing their weapons as they rapidly moved through the crowd. The element of surprise was on their side. Gromit and Wallace barely had time to react before being surrounded, their escape path cut off.
"Hands where we can see them!" Sam ordered, her voice firm and authoritative.
Gromit and Wallace hesitated for a split second before complying, their faces a mixture of defiance and resignation. Teal'c swiftly disarmed them, and MI6 agents moved in to secure the scene. Daniel and Vala took hold of the stolen artifacts and stored them carefully. They were all going back to SGC.
As the auction guests scattered in panic, Sam and Teal'c escorted the two smugglers out of the estate, their mission finally complete.
"Good work, SG-1," Jack said over the comms. "Let's get these guys back to SGC. Time to put an end to this operation once and for all."
The mission was a success. With Gromit and Wallace in custody and Mitchell waiting for interrogation back at the SGC, the rogue operation that had been smuggling alien artifacts from the SGC was finally dismantled.
But even as they prepared for the next phase—interrogating the captured smugglers and the mole—the team knew that the world of covert operations was never indeed at rest. There was always another shadow waiting just around the corner, another secret waiting to be uncovered. But for now, they had earned a brief moment of victory.
At the SGC, Cameron Mitchell sat alone in the cold, sterile room, his hands cuffed to the metal table before him. His face was a mask of confusion and anger, his mind struggling to piece together the events that had led him here. He couldn't remember much, only fragmented images and sensations, as if someone had invaded his mind and twisted his reality.
Jack and Landry stood outside the interrogation room, watching Mitchell through the one-way glass. The security footage had shown him attempting to steal the artifact, but Jack had a nagging suspicion that something wasn't right. Cameron Mitchell wasn't a traitor—at least, not willingly.
"Something's off," Jack muttered, his brow furrowed. "Mitchell's not the kind of guy to sell us out. This doesn't add up."
Hank nodded in agreement, crossing his arms.
"I agree. We've worked with him for years. His loyalty's never been in question."
At that moment, Sam entered the observation room, her expression severe but sympathetic.
"I've been reviewing some of the data we pulled from the alien tech recovered from previous missions, Generals. There's a chance that Mitchell wasn't acting of his own free will."
Jack turned to her, his eyes narrowing.
"What do you mean?"
Sam stepped closer to the observation window, looking at her friend through the glass.
"We've encountered alien technology before that has mind-altering effects. Drugs, devices, and even certain species can exert control over human behavior. What if Mitchell was compromised by something like that? Maybe he wasn't aware of what he was doing."
General Landry frowned.
"Are you saying he's been under the influence of something this entire time?"
"It's possible, Sir," Sam replied. "Dr. Lam should check him before anything interrogation occurs."
Jack cleared his throat, and Hank Landry looked at his feet. As usual, Samantha Carter was right. She was following protocol.
"Proceed, Colonel Carter. Inform Dr. Lam that Colonel Mitchell will be escorted to her infirmary to be tested and to see if everything is all right with him," Landry said.
"Yes, Sir," Sam said and left the room.
Jack sighed. "We should have thought about that."
"Yeah, we should. She will be a great leader one day", Hank said with a small smile.
Jack also smiled.
"She already is," he said proudly.
They waited in silence as some airmen arrived and took Mitchell handcuffed.
"Now we wait," Jack said.
After some hours, Dr. Lam was ready to deliver her results, and a meeting was arranged at the briefing room with the presence of Jack and the remaining SG-1. Sir Charles Davenport and the rest of MI6 stayed at the base, but neither Jack nor Landry felt the need to have their presence.
"So, doctor, what have you found?" Jack asked.
Carolyn Lam looked at the several pages in front of her.
"I ran tests on Colonel Mitchell's recent medical scans; his bloodstream has an anomaly. It's a foreign substance—something we haven't seen before-similar to compounds used by alien races that manipulate the brain's chemistry. It could have been administered to him without him even knowing."
Hank let out a slow breath, the weight of the revelation settling in.
"So, he was being controlled. That explains why he acted like he did."
Sam nodded. She had also been present when Carolyn performed the tests.
"It would explain a lot, Sir. The substance could impair his judgment, make him compliant, and even erase his memory of certain actions."
Landry looked at Jack, his expression softening as the two generals exchanged a silent understanding.
"We need to get to the bottom of this. If he's been used as a pawn, we must figure out who's behind it and how deep this goes."
Jack turned to Carter, his expression grim.
"Hank is right. Let's talk to him. If he's been drugged, he might not even remember what he did. But maybe we can trigger something."
"We can try, Sir."
Jack and Sam entered the interrogation room minutes later. General Landry and the rest of SG-1 remained behind the glassed window, watching and listening. Mitchell looked up as they entered, his eyes dark with frustration and confusion.
"General, Sam, what the hell is going on?" Mitchell asked, his voice hoarse. "I didn't steal anything. I wouldn't… I don't even remember how I got to that storage room."
Jack exchanged a glance with Carter before sitting down across from Mitchell.
"We know, Mitchell. We think you've been compromised."
Cameron frowned, his brow creasing in disbelief.
"Compromised? What are you talking about?"
Sam leaned forward, her voice soft but serious.
"There's a foreign substance in your system. We believe it's an alien drug that's been affecting your behavior—making you act without realizing it."
Mitchell blinked, the words sinking in slowly.
"A drug? Are you saying someone's been controlling me?"
"It looks that way," Jack said. "You've been acting under someone else's influence. And they've been using you to smuggle alien tech out of the SGC."
Mitchell's face drained of color. He looked at his handcuffed hands, his voice shaky.
"I—I swear, I don't remember doing any of it. How long has this been going on?"
"We're not sure," Sam said gently. "But we're going to figure it out, Cameron. The substance in your system is still active, which means it's recent. It could have been administered during one of your last missions or while at SGC. Probably while I was in D.C."
Mitchell's hands clenched into fists as he tried to process the information.
"But who? Who would do this to me?"
Jack's voice was calm but firm.
"We're working on that. Right now, we need to focus on getting that drug out of your system and finding out who's behind it."
Mitchell's eyes met Jack's, a mixture of guilt and fear in his gaze.
"I never wanted to betray any of you. I'd die before I let that happen. You have to believe me, General."
Jack leaned forward, his voice steady.
"We know that, Mitchell. And we're going to fix this. You're one of us, and we're not leaving you behind."
Sam placed a reassuring hand on Cameron's shoulder.
"We'll need to run more tests and determine how to neutralize the drug. But you're not alone in this."
Mitchell nodded, his face still pale but determined.
"Do whatever you need to. Just help me make this right."
"We'll do it. But do you remember anything? Anything that can help us?" Jack asked.
Mitchell's brow furrowed as he closed his eyes, trying to focus through the haze of his fractured memories. Flashes of images danced in his mind—whispered voices, his car… His eyes snapped open.
"I was in... a place here at SGC," he said slowly, his voice hesitant. "I don't remember much, but... something happened."
Jack sat up straighter. "What happened?"
Mitchell clenched his fists.
"There was a man... I don't remember his face now, but I think I know who he is. We were talking. After that... it's all a blur. I kept blacking out, forgetting things. I didn't tell anyone because I feared being kicked out of the team."
Jack exchanged a glance with Carter.
"That sounds like mind control or chemical manipulation," he mused aloud. "We've dealt with that kind of thing before."
"Yes, we have, Sir," Sam agreed.
Later, in the SGC infirmary, Carolyn Lam worked with Sam to analyze the substance in Mitchell's system. After hours of tests and scans, they finally identified the drug—a compound derived from a plant found on a planet visited by SG-16. Its mind-altering properties allowed it to suppress free will and implant suggestions in the subject's mind.
"The good news is that we can neutralize it," Carolyn said as she briefed the team. "With the right combination of treatments, we should be able to flush it out of his system and reverse the effects."
Jack nodded, relief washing over him.
"Do it. The sooner, the better."
As the medical team began treating Mitchell, SG-1 and MI6 turned their attention back to the more significant threat—the mastermind behind the smuggling operation. Sir Charles Davenport joined them in the briefing room, his expression thoughtful.
"It's clear now that whoever orchestrated this knew precisely how to manipulate us," Sir Charles Davenport remarked, his voice smooth and calculated.
He leaned forward slightly, his fingers pressed together in a steeple.
"Using Colonel Mitchell from SG-1, the flagteam, was a bold and strategic move. After Major Montague was arrested, they needed a way to keep their operation under the radar. Mitchell's involvement allowed them to maintain cover without raising immediate suspicion."
Jack crossed his arms, his jaw tightening as his gaze fixed on Davenport. His face was a mask of determination, the easy-going facade gone.
"Well, now we know what they're playing at," Jack said casually, almost lazily, though his eyes gleamed with dangerous intent. "And we're going to shut it down. Fast."
Sam's eyes flicked briefly to the screen that displayed grainy footage of the two captured smugglers—Mr. Wallace and Mr. Gromit—sitting in an SGC holding cell. She tilted her head slightly, her analytical mind already working through the layers of deception they were dealing with.
"We need to interrogate them," Sam said thoughtfully. "Wallace and Gromit might have intel on who supplied them with the drug used to compromise Mitchell. We need to confirm if Major Montague was the one that did it."
Sir Charles nodded, his expression impassive, though there was a flicker of something colder in his eyes.
"My team is more than capable of extracting the necessary information," he said in a measured tone. "We have methods… ways of encouraging cooperation when necessary." His words hung in the air, heavy with implication.
Jack smiled, but it wasn't the kind of smile that reached his eyes. Instead, a slow, deliberate grin masked the sharp edge of his suspicions.
"I appreciate the offer, Sir Charles," Jack said, his voice easy and light but with an unmistakable undercurrent of authority.
"But I think SG-1 will take the first crack at them. You know, in the spirit of our joint task force." He gave a quick, casual glance around the room to ensure everyone heard him—especially those who didn't know him well enough to recognize the steel behind his words.
Davenport's eyes shifted to Jack, but his response was measured, devoid of reaction to the subtle pushback.
"Of course, General," Davenport replied, his tone neutral, though Jack caught a momentary glint in his gaze. "I trust your team's judgment. After all, we're here to work together."
For a brief moment, the room was silent. Then Davenport's eyes drifted toward Sam. There was an intensity in how he looked at her—polite but calculated. He nodded, though the gesture seemed more like a veiled assessment.
"I'll be looking forward to hearing what your team uncovers," Davenport said, his voice almost too smooth. "And when you're ready, we'll proceed with our methods."
Sam met Davenport's gaze evenly, her blue eyes calm and unreadable. There was no discomfort in her demeanor, only the quiet confidence of someone who had faced far worse than veiled threats from men like Davenport.
"We'll get to the truth, Sir," she said, her tone firm but measured. "We always do."
Davenport smiled thinly, though it didn't reach his eyes. He turned back to General Landry, who had been observing the exchange with the quiet authority of a man who understood the weight of the game.
"In the meantime," Davenport said, "my team will continue gathering intelligence. Time is of the essence if we're to shut down this operation before it spreads further."
"Agreed," Landry said, his voice carrying the finality of someone who wouldn't allow anyone to derail the mission. "We'll reconvene after SG-1 has finished their interrogation. Until then, I expect full cooperation from all parties involved."
The battle wasn't over, but they were closer than ever to exposing the truth and ensuring that no one else would fall victim to the same twisted plot that had ensnared their friend and teammate.