When Jack hung up, he immediately dialed the White House, his urgency palpable as he requested an immediate conversation with President Hayes. The tone in his voice brooked no delay, and Hayes' secretary assured him that she would pass the message along immediately and call him back as soon as possible. Jack hung up again, the weight of Teal'c's words heavy on his mind, the urgency of the situation pressing down on him.
Teal'c wasn't one to raise alarms without a good reason, so hearing that someone had managed to unsettle Carter was deeply disturbing. Samantha Carter didn't get rattled easily; she was composed, unshakeable under pressure, and had confronted dangers that most people couldn't even begin to fathom. But Jack had to acknowledge that she'd been through a lot—much of it because of him. If something had spooked her, it had to be serious. She had already been attacked in her hotel and had received threatening phone calls.
Jack felt a knot forming in his stomach, a rare unease creeping up his spine, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on him.
His phone rang, snapping him out of his thoughts. He answered immediately.
"Jack, it's Hayes," the President's voice came through the line, firm and direct.
"Mister President," Jack replied, his tone matching the urgency. "I need to get to the SGC. As you know, there's a critical investigation underway."
"What's going on? Are we talking about what we think we are talking about?" Hayes asked, the frustration evident in his voice. "The reason why you were at the hospital, Jack?"
"I can't go into the details over the phone," Jack said, his voice steady but insistent. "But yes, Sir. It is that reason and that investigation."
There was a pause on the other end. Jack could almost hear the gears turning in the President's mind.
"Jack, I don't think it is wise for you to be parading around when people are trying to… well, keep you unmoving, to put it nicely."
"I know, Sir," Jack acknowledged. "But this is important. My presence there is important. And right now, it's also a matter of necessity."
Hayes sighed, clearly weighing his options.
"How long do you need?"
"Three days, tops," Jack said, pushing for more time than he needed, just in case.
"Fine," Hayes agreed reluctantly. "But keep it short, and tell Colonel Carter to keep me updated."
"Will do. Thank you, Mister President," Jack said with relief and determination.
"Just make sure you're back when you say you will be," Hayes added before hanging up.
Three days wasn't much time, but it was enough time to figure out what was happening. Jack immediately picked up the phone and called his secretary.
"Claire, I need to go to Colorado Springs. ASAP."
"Right away, Sir. Should I arrange for beaming?"
"No beaming this time," Jack said firmly. "I need the travel time to clear my head and prepare."
"Understood. I'll get you a flight as soon as possible."
"Thanks, Claire. Let me know as soon as it's set."
"Will do, sir. I'll call you back shortly."
Moving with practiced efficiency, Jack went to his cabinet and pulled out a duffel bag he always packed for emergencies like this. It had everything he needed—clothes, equipment, a sidearm discreetly packed away. He was a man ready for action at a moment's notice, and today was no different.
Minutes later, Claire, his secretary, returned with flight details.
"General, I got you a flight leaving in two hours. It's the best I could do."
Jack nodded, a slight smile forming.
"Two hours? You're slipping, Claire. I thought you'd have a jet fueled and ready in five minutes."
Claire chuckled.
"I'm good, General, but not a miracle worker. Besides, I thought you needed the time to clear your head."
Jack's smile widened, his voice softening.
"You know me too well."
Claire grinned.
"Someone has to keep an eye on you, Sir. God knows you need it."
Jack chuckled.
"Thanks, Claire. I owe you one."
She raised an eyebrow.
"You owe me a dozen, General. But who's counting?" She left and closed the door.
Jack was determined to find out what was wrong. He grabbed his bag, gave Claire final instructions to notify his driver, and headed for the door. His mind was already at the SGC, already with Carter. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong and was determined to find out what it was.
As he left his office, his thoughts raced. He was piecing together his little information, preparing for the worst. Jack wasn't just on his way to Colorado Springs—he was heading straight into the unknown and needed to be mentally prepared for anything. He should have asked Carter for more details about the investigation.
Jack's flight from Washington D.C. to Colorado Springs was uneventful but tense. He boarded a private military jet, a necessity given the situation's urgency. He settled into the leather seat, staring out the window as the plane taxied down the runway. The skies were clear, but Jack's mind was clouded with concern. He repeatedly replayed the conversation with Teal'c, trying to piece together what might have happened to unsettle someone as calm as Carter.
The hum of the engines filled the cabin as the plane lifted off, cutting through the clouds. Jack leaned back, trying to let the steady drone of the flight lull him into some semblance of calm. He needed to clear his head and focus on what lay ahead, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the SGC, Samantha Carter, and the unknown threat that had brought him rushing across the country.
Had she found the mole at SGC? But if so, why hadn't she called him?
The flight was only a few hours long but felt like an eternity. Jack barely touched the meal offered by the flight attendant, his appetite replaced by a gnawing sense of urgency.
As the plane descended towards Peterson Air Force Base, the Rocky Mountains came into view, their snow-capped peaks standing stark against the clear blue sky. The base came into sight, a familiar but always imposing presence, and Jack felt a sense of relief. He was almost there.
Jack was up when the plane touched down, grabbing his duffel bag and heading for the door before the aircraft stopped. A military vehicle was waiting on the tarmac, and he climbed in without a word; the driver immediately sped towards Cheyenne Mountain. Jack watched the landscape blur past the window, the mountain's base looming larger and larger until they were at the entrance of the SGC.
He didn't wait for the vehicle to stop entirely before opening the door and stepping out, his shoes hitting the ground with purpose. He was still in his dress blues. The guards at the entrance snapped to attention, saluting as he passed. Jack returned the salute briskly, his mind already focused on what to do next. He moved through the security checkpoints with practiced ease, drawing surprised looks from the personnel he passed.
"General O'Neill, Sir!" one of the young airmen at the entrance said, clearly startled to see him. Jack nodded in acknowledgment, his pace never slowing as he headed straight for Hank Landry's office.
The familiar hallways of the SGC seemed narrower than usual, the tension wrapping around Jack like a tight coil. By the time he reached Landry's office, he was barely holding back the sense of urgency that had been building since Teal'c's call. He didn't knock; he just pushed the door open.
Hank Landry looked up from his desk, surprise flashing across his face.
"Jack? What the hell are you doing here?"
Jack dropped his duffel bag on the floor, his expression serious.
"We need to talk, Hank. Now."
Landry immediately knew this wasn't a social visit. He gestured to a chair, his demeanor shifting to match Jack's. The air in the room thickened with the weight of what was to come. Jack sat down, ready to get to the bottom of whatever had brought him here.
"Teal'c called me," Jack said, his tone leaving no room for small talk. "He was worried about Carter—said someone was creeping her out. What's going on?"
Landry leaned back in his chair, his brows knitting together.
"Look, Jack, I haven't been fully briefed on her findings yet. She's been running this investigation pretty tight."
Jack's jaw tightened.
"You're telling me you're not on top of what's happening on your own base?"
Landry exhaled slowly, clearly irritated.
"I'm saying I'm letting my officers do their jobs, Jack. You'd know a thing or two about that. Besides, she's on Presidential orders. She doesn't report to me. Remember that tiny detail, General?"
Jack's eyes flashed with impatience.
"Yes, I do, General, but that's exactly why I'm here. I'm not leaving until I get some answers. I cleared this with Hayes before coming, so you've got two choices—either call Carter in here or don't bother, and I'll find her myself."
Landry shook his head.
"Fine, fine. But this better be worth all the trouble you're stirring up. You can still scare the hell out of these kids, you know."
Jack shot him a wry smile.
"Not my fault they're not used to seeing a real General."
Landry snorted.
"Careful, Jack. You're not in command here."
Jack's smile faded.
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't care about my people."
"I know you do, Hank—just a friendly banter. I'll get Carter. I know the way," he said, turning on his heel and heading out of the office.
Hank Landry watched Jack leave, feeling a mixture of relief and unease. He heaved a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as the tension in the room slowly dissipated. There was never a dull moment when Jack O'Neill was at the SGC.
As Jack moved through the familiar corridors of the SGC, the personnel he passed looked up in surprise, murmurs spreading through the base like wildfire. The General was here, unannounced and clearly on a mission. Jack paid little attention to the stares and whispers. His focus was on finding Carter and getting to the bottom of whatever had her—and, by extension, Teal'c—so rattled.
He caught the elevator and bypassed several rooms, nodding curtly at the salutes sent his way until he reached Carter's lab. Pausing outside the door, he could hear the usual noises of someone typing from inside. Jack steeled himself, then passed his card to open the door, stepping into the room with the authority that came naturally to him.
Inside, Jack found Carter seated at her desk, typing away with a focused intensity. Teal'c stood nearby, leaning against the wall with a calm but undeniably attentive posture. Sam looked up, her surprise momentarily breaking through her professional facade before quickly regaining her composure. Teal'c offered a respectful nod.
"General," Sam said, rising from her chair. "I… I wasn't expecting you."
"Clearly," Jack replied, eyes scanning the cluttered desk filled with files and documents.
Sam swallowed hard, her gaze flicking between Jack and Teal'c. Teal'c's expression, though stoic by nature, suggested a hint of amusement—or as close to amusement as a Jaffa could manage.
"What are you doing here, Sir?" Sam asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Jack's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'm visiting."
Sam was about to respond but then hesitated, her eyes shifting to Teal'c.
"Visiting. Right," Sam said, her voice tinged with skepticism. "A standard visit from the Head of Homeworld Security to the SGC. Did you receive medical clearance for this visit, Sir?"
Jack blinked, taken aback.
"Excuse me? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Carter?"
Sam exchanged a quick, meaningful glance with Teal'c before addressing Jack directly.
"You were exposed to a hazardous toxin, Sir. Last I knew, you were still under evaluation by Dr. Torremolinos. Am I mistaken?"
Jack folded his arms, a slight flush coloring his cheeks.
"No, but that's hardly the point here. And we're getting totally off-topic, Carter. What's going on? Who's been bothering you?"
Sam's eyes widened as she suddenly realized why Jack was there. She turned her attention sharply to Teal'c, her frustration evident.
"You called him!?"
Teal'c remained composed, his gaze unwavering.
"I did. You appeared to be most unsettled by Major Montague. Additionally, it has come to my attention that he is not to be trusted. He has a reputation for exchanging favors for financial gain—a practice unbecoming of an officer and inappropriate for someone associated with the SGC."
Sam's anger softened, replaced by a mix of relief and concern.
"You've been asking questions around, Teal'c?" she asked, surprised.
"Indeed."
Sam cleared her throat, her eyes still on him.
"And you think Montague's involved in something shady?"
"Yes," Teal'c affirmed. "And it could be an important lead for your investigation."
Jack stepped further into the room, his demeanor shifting from irritation to determination.
"All right. We need to get to the bottom of this. I'm here to help. Let's review what you've found and determine our next steps."
Sam nodded, her professional mask in place as she gestured to the files on her desk.
"I'll bring you up to speed, Sir. But first, let's ensure we're all on the same page about Montague and his potential connections. I wasn't aware of Teal'c diligences."
"Fine, but I want to do this with Landry's present. And the rest of SG-1 also. No one else," Jack said. "So let's move this to the briefing room where you can explain this only once to everyone. Teal'c, can you call the rest of the people?"
Teal'c nodded.
"I'll ensure they are all present at the briefing room."
Jack moved his hand toward the door.
"Let's go, Carter. I'll walk you to the briefing room while Teal'c gathers the troops. We can talk on the way."
Sam blushed as she started to collect her papers.
"Ok."
Teal'c left the lab, and for a moment, the only sound was Sam gathering everything she needed. Jack saw that her hands were trembling.
"Take your time, Carter. I'm in no hurry."
Sam didn't look at him. Instead, she tucked everything close to her chest and took a deep breath.
"I'm ready, Sir."
Jack led the way back toward Landry's office as the door closed behind them, his mind working through the implications of what he had just seen. Whatever was happening here was more significant than he had initially thought. And he wasn't going to leave until he had answers. Someone clearly affected Carter, and he intended to find out who had put her in this state. That was a fact.
Jack and Sam walked side by side through the dimly lit corridors of the SGC. The echo of their footsteps bounced off the concrete walls, a steady rhythm that contrasted with the turmoil Jack sensed beneath Sam's calm exterior.
He glanced sideways at her as they passed a group of airmen. Sam's gaze was fixed ahead, her usual confident stride now slightly stiff, her shoulders a little too square. He had noticed the way her hands had trembled ever so slightly back in her lab, the way she had clenched them into fists to steady herself before putting the papers all together. It wasn't like her.
He cleared his throat, searching for a way to break the silence.
"So, Carter," he started, trying to keep his tone light, "how's the blue Jello here? Still the same?"
Sam's lips quirked up at the corner, but the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"The Jello? It's the same, Sir," she replied. Her voice was steady and professional, but Jack could hear the underlying tension.
"Good, good," he said, nodding. "Since you practically live from that stuff… And you aren't leaving the base; we can't grab a pizza or Chinese while I'm here."
Sam turned to look at him, her blue eyes meeting his.
"You told me to stay at the base, Sir," she said, but her voice was distant as if she were miles away.
Jack stopped walking, and Sam took another step before realizing he had halted. She turned back to face him, her expression questioning.
"Carter," he began, softer now. "First, you don't follow my orders but the President's, so it was a request that you stay on the base. Second, I know we'll get into all the heavy stuff in the briefing room, but... are you okay? I mean, really okay?"
Sam hesitated, her eyes flickering down to her hands, which were full of papers.
"I'm fine, Sir," she said, but it was automatic and reflexive.
"Carter," Jack pressed, stepping closer. "I saw your hands shaking in the lab. I don't like seeing that. Not from you."
She looked down as if the floor held the answers she couldn't find.
"It's just...there's a lot on my mind, Sir. The investigation, the time urging, everything that already happened... I know I need to compartmentalize, but sometimes it just...gets to me."
Jack nodded, understanding all too well the burden of the things left unspoken.
"I know you are here to find out who the mole is, and that's complicated, but if it's too much, you can tell me. You don't have to do everything alone. I thought the idea of you being here was that SG-1 had your back. They could help you."
Sam sighed, a deep, weary sound, and for a moment, Jack thought she might actually open up. But instead, she straightened her shoulders and gave him a tight, almost apologetic smile.
"I appreciate that, Sir. Really. But we should get to the briefing room. The team's waiting."
Jack held her gaze for a long moment, then slightly nodded.
"All right, Carter. I know when you are in the stubborn mode."
"Yes, Sir," she replied, her voice softer and warmer.
They resumed their walk, the tension between them slightly eased but not gone. Jack knew they would get through the briefing, deal with the investigation, and keep moving forward as always. But he also knew that Carter was carrying more than her fair share of weight on her shoulders, and he made a silent promise to himself to keep an eye on her. The corridors stretched ahead, and the door to the briefing room loomed closer, but Jack's thoughts lingered on the quiet moments in between—the ones where he might find a way to help her carry the load.
It was because of him that she was in this situation after all. And he hated that. He hated it with a deep, gnawing frustration that settled in his gut and wouldn't let go. He was used to being in control, making tough calls, and shouldering the consequences. But this...this was different. This was Carter.
Jack had always known that their line of work came with risks, and he'd accepted those risks for himself a long time ago. But seeing the toll it was taking on Carter—knowing that his decisions had played a part in putting her here—was something he couldn't just shrug off. It twisted inside him, an anger not directed at her or the situation but at himself. He had stayed away, they had gone separate ways, but it just took one damn toxin that rendered him unconscious, and she was by his side, ready to help him.
She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve to carry the weight of what had happened, to have her hands trembling in the lab because of him. Jack had always admired her strength and resilience, but now he wondered if he had pushed her too far or expected too much.
He hated the thought that his actions had led to the cracks he was starting to see in her usually unbreakable exterior. Carter was one of the strongest people he knew—hell, she was probably stronger than all of them put together—but even the strongest steel can bend under enough pressure. And Jack couldn't help but feel that he was the one who had piled that pressure on her shoulders.
As they continued down the corridor, the briefing room now just a few steps away, Jack's mind raced, trying to figure out how to make this right. But the truth was, he didn't know how. How do you take back the weight of something that they didn't know what it was?
Jack clenched his jaw, trying to push down the self-reproach threatening to boil over. He had to stay focused. But he also knew that once they got through this briefing, he couldn't just let it go once the immediate crisis was dealt with. He couldn't just pretend he hadn't seen the tremor in her hands, the weariness in her eyes.
The doors to the briefing room slid open in front of them, and Jack squared his shoulders, pushing his emotions aside for the moment. There would be time to deal with everything else later. For now, they had a job to do. But as they entered the room, he silently promised he wouldn't let her down again. He couldn't.
The briefing room was eerily quiet as Jack and Sam arrived, the large, empty table dominating the space. The only sound was the faint hum of the air conditioning. Jack paused at the door, glancing at Carter as she stood there, looking almost as tense as she had in the corridor.
He gave her a reassuring nod.
"Carter, why don't you take a seat? I'll get Landry. We'll start in a minute."
Sam hesitated momentarily, then nodded back, walking over to her usual spot at the table. She sat down, placing her files neatly in front of her, her hands resting on them as she waited. Jack watched her for a beat longer, concern still tugging at him, before he turned and headed to Landry's office.
As he knocked on the door and stepped inside to inform Hank that the meeting was about to begin, Sam took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. The room's emptiness made her feel strangely vulnerable, the silence giving too much space for her thoughts to race. She pushed them aside, focusing on the reports she was about to present.
A few minutes later, Jack returned with Landry, and they both took their seats. Sam straightened in her chair, flipping open the top file and glancing at her notes. She could feel Jack's eyes on her, even as he settled into his usual relaxed posture, and it made her even more aware of the knot tightening in her stomach.
As the rest of SG-1 began to file in, tension increased.
Always the first to break a tense silence, Vala spoke up with her usual irreverent charm.
"Well, isn't this cozy? If I didn't know better, I'd say we're here for a surprise party."
Daniel rolled his eyes.
"Not now, Vala."
Vala pouted.
"You're all so serious. Just trying to lighten the mood."
Cameron chimed in, and his tone was more serious.
"Might be better to keep things professional, Vala. We're dealing with something big here."
Vala shrugged.
"Professional. Right. Like we haven't saved the galaxy countless times before."
Teal'c, with his usual stoic calm, added, "The threat we face now may be more insidious, Vala Mal Doran. Caution is advised."
Jack, listening to the banter, finally cut in. "All right, enough. Carter has something important to say, and we need to hear it. Let's get focused."
Sam's eyes flickered from face to face, and she felt that knot in her stomach twist a little tighter.
Suddenly, her mind flashed back to earlier encounters with Major Marcus Montague—the coldness in his eyes, the way he seemed to relish pushing her buttons. Something about him set her on edge, reminding her of Hanson. The memory was unwelcome, dredging up emotions she had buried long ago. It felt ridiculous, even to her, to admit that Montague creeped her out, that he made her feel like she was back in that dark place she had once fought so hard to escape.
But this wasn't about her past, she told herself firmly. This was about the mission and facts; she was a Lieutenant Colonel in the United States Air Force. She wasn't some helpless victim; she was a leader, a scientist, and a soldier. She had faced down far worse than Montague, and she wasn't going to let her personal feelings cloud her judgment now.
Sam made a quick decision as she glanced around the table, noticing that Jack was still watching her more closely than usual. She would stick to the facts. There was no need to mention how Montague made her skin crawl, how he dredged up memories she'd rather forget. She would keep it professional, stick to the data, and leave her emotions out.
Sam cleared her throat.
"Thank you, Sir…" she began, her voice steady, if a bit too formal. "I've reviewed the toxin report from Dr. Bill Lee and corroborated his findings. We've identified the primary compound, which appears to be a synthetic derivative of..."
As she spoke, her voice grew more assertive, more assured. She focused on the science, facts, and figures, laying out the details with the precision she was known for. But beneath the surface, she could still feel that knot in her stomach, the lingering unease she hadn't thoroughly shaken. And she couldn't help but feel just a little too exposed, especially with Jack sitting right there, his concern for her palpable even in his silence.
But Sam pushed it all down, burying it deep. She would get through this briefing just as she had through so many others. And when it was over, she would deal with whatever came next because that's what she did. That's who she was.
