At Last, an Ancient in Atlantis

by palma

The Ori threat has become urgent, and SG1 searches for a way to counter them. This however will take them on a whole new adventure...to Atlantis. How did they get there and why? Crossover between SGA and SG1.

9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 : At last, signs and reunions

Mitchell spent a while longer motionless and then made his decision. He signalled to Sam, Daniel and Teal'c who formed up around him.

"I've got something to show you," Mitchell handed the piece of paper to Sam, "this is where we can find her."

"How did you get this?" Sam asked.

"General O'Neill never told you?"

"No, apparently he neglected to mention that part," Daniel said drily.

"As in many previous situations, Daniel Jackson, we are not in possession of all the facts," Teal'c said, giving Daniel one of his more attentive glares.

"You remember those times you visited me in hospital after the accident I had in the battle over Antarctica?" Mitchell continued.

"Yes, but I don't see the connection," Daniel said.

"Perhaps we should allow him to finish, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c suggested.

"Thanks, Teal'c. Okay so the bed next to mine, you remember that?"

"Yeah, the person with bandages everywhere and tubes poking out all over their body, looked like a mummy if I'm honest. But what is it you're trying to say," Daniel asked, not entirely understanding where Mitchell was going with this.

"I think I know what he's saying," Sam exclaimed, "that was..."

"Angela," Mitchell finished for her.

"I should've known. I'd already seen her medical file, but I completely forgot about that," Sam added.

"Yeah, me too. I completely forgot about that piece of paper she gave me before she left. You see she went before me and every month after that we wrote one another. Usually it was her who wrote me first."

Silence ensued. The two realised that the entire team, including the two agents and Bryan, had lll previously encountered Angela. They made a choice to announce this fact to the others without shedding too much light on where her contact details had come from.

"Okay, we've got a cell phone number and her e-mail address, it's all there. At least now we can try and track her down, but I think we should keep looking in the files," Bryan suggested.

"Alright, I'm going to try her cell and e-mail, I don't think we should have too much trouble tracking her down," Sam said as she took herself off to another room where she set down her gear.

Teal'c set himself down with the two secret agents and Bryan and several of the files. Daniel and Mitchell went to work with Sam who was already busy typing away on her laptop.

"Did the two of you get in touch a lot?" Daniel asked.

"End of every month," Mitchell replied.

"What I meant to say is was it a regular thing the two of you had?"

"Mostly, but the last few months it dropped off a little and the last message I got from her was really short."

"And she sent that message last month?"

"Yeah, why all the questions?"

"I..."

"I think I know where we can find her," Sam interrupted, "it's a frequently used address, it's connected to a well-known social networking server. I'll have to do some guesswork and try to figure out when and where the last connection for that address was registered," her fingers danced on the keyboard as she launched several search programmes, "okay I've begun the search, now let's work on the cell. I'll see if I can call her, with any luck she'll pick up and then I'll be able to narrow down the source to within a radius of 1km."

She connected the cell phone to a device that was itself connected to her computer and when this was set up she dialled the number. She turned up the speaker and waited for a response. The only reply to be heard came from the voicemail.

"We could leave a message," Mitchell suggested.

"And say what?" Daniel said, "hi, we're trying to track you down for a mission billions of miles from Earth?"

"I don't know, but I think if we told her that exactly, she'd either run straight away or laugh in our faces. When she gave me her contact details, she said if I ever needed help or someone to talk to, she said to call her and we'd be able to meet up."

"Can't hurt to try, Daniel, it's better than nothing," Sam said handing the phone to Mitchell so he could leave a voice message.

When he was done, Mitchell sat himself in front of the computer screen to see how the search was progressing while Sam worked on the phone number and Daniel joined the others to help them with the personnel files. Two hours later, Bryan interrupted everyone to announce that he had finally found the photo he had been searching for in the files, that picture being the one that contained Angela and her student number. They finally had proof that Angela was indeed in this town and at this university. Mitchell suggested that they go and look for her files the next day now that they had her student number. Sam was still seated behind her laptop and monitoring the progress of the search programme. Suddenly her second computer flashed an alert that it had finished its search and located what it was looking for.

"Daniel, I think I've got something," Sam said.

Mitchell and Daniel made their way in from the room next door.

"The results are just coming in," Sam said, "she's in..."

The three of them were transfixed by what the results told them.

"She's in Japan?" Mitchell said.

"There must be some kind of problem," she said as she punched a few keys and the programme reacted, "wait, it's tracked it down to another location, but this one's in Spain."

Other locations around the world started showing up on the screen. It was going to be impossible to find her with any certainty.

"I thought this programme could track her down to within a 1km radius," Mitchell teased.

"It's supposed to."

"So, what is this, a glitch?"

"No, everything's working as it should," Sam checked a few other parameters to see if she hadn't made any errors in the settings, "no, everything's working just fine, I don't understand why...unless she's using a firewall or some kind of security system."

"Isn't there some way we can get around that" Daniel said, "the way we usually do?"

"I'm worried I might not be able to do anything. She's the best programmer I know. If the programme can't bypass the security procedures Angela put in place, then there's no way we can," she looked for some solution but none came to her.

"I should've known this would happen, they didn't make her a secret agent for nothing, she sure knows how to cover all bases," Mitchell added, "I knew it couldn't be that easy."

He looked at the photo he had been able to find amongst the others. The young woman he saw was not the one he remembered. Under her eyes were dark circles, but the eyes themselves were still the same piercing green he remembered. That once black mane of hair was now threaded with strands of white. There were now visible wrinkles that no longer went away when her face relaxed. Her smile was the light one borne on lips now less used to laughter. He recognised the face but could no longer find in it the young woman he had known. Mitchell set himself down at one of the computers and started to write a message to his friend:

Angela,

where do I start? I've got so much to tell you.

Since the last time we were in touch, so much has happened in my life that it would all seem like a dream to you, unless your spirit is broken which I can't imagine to be the case... I'd like to tell you all about it, but I can't do it here, I'm afraid it would cause me too many problems if I did. I really need to see you or at least to talk to you. I've been a little blindsided by what's happened to me and I could really use your advice right about now. I've got some bad memories coming back to haunt me, memories I thought were buried a long time ago. My past is hunting me down and you know how it goes that when you find one problem, you'll probably find another one. Anyway, I've talked too much about me, how are things with you? I'm a little worried I haven't heard any news from you. It was strange the messages you've been sending me these last few months have been so short. I'm starting to wonder whether everything's going alright with you. I'd really like to hear more than just "I'm fine," actually I insist if that's not too much to ask.

I hope we'll see each other soon or at least talk. I won't deny I'm eager to meet up with you. It's been a long time since we last saw each other, I mean I'd like to remember more about the time we spent together in hospital when you...I'll just stop there.

Well, I'll finish by saying see you soon.

All the best,

Mitchell.

PS: I'm free and easy right now, so whenever's good for you I can be there.

Mitchell re-read what he had written. He didn't know whether it was a good idea to talk about the petty problems of his life, after all it might panic her. Even the previous month he had been reluctant to talk about it with her, but his problem wasn't showing any sign of going away, regardless of whether or not he let it be known. What he needed now was to talk to a friend and Angela was the best one he knew; she was a good listener and all the advice she gave him was useful. With all that had happened, he had forgotten, but he had always kept a warm place in his heart for her, the feelings awaiting only the slightest of signs to emerge once again. He made up his mind and sent the message to her address without a hint of regret. He needed her and he would not lie to her. He could talk about his problems as long as he skated over the biggest one i.e. the Ori.

Mitchell was overcome with fatigue. It was now two in the morning. The others had begun to go through Angela's personal effects they had recovered from the base, the few that she had had anyway.

A few hours later at around six o'clock, Sam woke everyone up. It was time to continue the search. Daniel, Sam and Mitchell decided to go find Angela's academic file, while the others focussed on the phone number and address. The first group arrived at the university about two hours later. The weather had settled somewhat but the sky was still cloudy and an icy chill pervaded the city's air. On the way there, Mitchell had decided to talk about the message he had written to Angela. When they arrived at the administration building, Sam showed her USAF ID. They happened upon the same secretary Mitchell had met the day before and she recognised them at once, sending them through to the same room.

"did you find what you were looking for?" the secretary spoke first, again in English.

"Yes, we managed to find her student number," Sam said as she handed her a piece of paper, "I think this should help your own search."

"I think it will. Please, sit down, I'll only be a few minutes," the secretary said as she exited the room.

"She's very welcoming, isn't she?" Sam said.

"Yes, it's a French trait," Daniel said, connoisseur-like.

"It makes a change, it's certainly not the welcome we got in that military base."

"Let's be honest, they were military and military are the same whatever country you go to," Daniel said.

"What do you mean, that we can't be welcoming?"

"No, but you all lack a certain tact and you notice that everywhere."

Mitchell observed the discussion but did not dare intervene. The secretary took on that task.

"Alright, here is her file. It's a photocopy, you understand, the original cannot leave this building," she held the folder out for it to be taken immediately by Mitchell who stepped in front of Sam to get it. "Would you like to work here?" she continued in English.

"Yes, thank you, we'll only take up an hour or two," Sam answered her.

The secretary left them alone. Mitchell seated himself and opened the file. He parted it into three and handed them out. Each person studied their own section. Apparently, Angela had a room in the dorm nearest to the university near a multi-purpose complex: nightclub, library and sports complex. Unfortunately, the exact room number wasn't specified and she was also registered in several of the libraries which would suggest that she went there fairly often and they would therefore have some luck searching for her there. She also had a canteen card. They were hoping to catch a glimpse of her during the day. At the moment, she was scheduled to be attending a class in human neurology, which was due to end in five minutes. With a little luck, they would get there just in time to bump into her as she left. The team quickly filed the folder away, thanked and said goodbye to the secretary and made their way over to find the amphitheatre. It was not an easy place to find and when they did, there were already students on their way out. They showed photos of Angela to several of the students. One of them recognised her, informing them that he met her at a nightclub she was working at. He gave them the name of the club telling them she would not be there tonight, but was working the day after. upon which he left to catch his class. Mitchell watched people as they left the building and saw that Angela was not one of them which probably meant she had already left. They therefore made the decision to go question the professor of neurology who informed them that Angela was taking the course of her own volition. He advised them to go and speak with his colleagues in the math and biochemistry faculties who knew her better than he did and in whose subjects she particularly excelled. They followed the professor who proceeded to guide them through several corridors finally arriving in a small lecture hall of around 50 seats. The Advanced Math professor sat hunched over his (copies). He was a small, relatively thin man. He had a long, Professor Calculus-style beard, except that his goatee was ginger. On the end of his pronounced nose rested a delicate pair of glasses. He arranged his things methodically with very precise movements showing his meticulous nature. A few students were still milling about at the exit having just finished an exam. The neurology professor waited until the last of the students had left before making the introductions.

"Marc, I'd like to introduce you to Colonel Samantha Carter and Colonel Cameron Mitchell of the United States Air Force as well as Doctor Daniel Jackson," on seeing that his colleague showed no sign of a reaction to the professor's introduction despite his insistent tone regarding where the visitors had come from, "they're interested in one of your students, I believe."

The mathematician's head then shot up, much to the amusement of the professor of neurology.

"Did you say US Air Force?" the mathematician asked, nearly choking on his words.

"Yes, that's right."

"And they're interested in one of my students, you say?"

"Yes."

"I don't know who that might be. If you ask my opinion, they're all immature. There won't be any great minds there, I'm afraid I'll be no help to you," he said quietly.

"You could at least have a look at the photo and see if you can tell us anymore," the professor signalled to Sam to show him the photo.

"Yes, I've seen her in my classes a few times but she's never caught my attention, she wasn't always in this class you see. I think the study of numbers is a bit too delicate a subject for someone who lacks an interest in it as she did."

"What Marc means is that she's not smart enough to merit his attention. He's only interested in brilliant students," the neurology professor added.

"I simply don't see the point in teaching people who cannot be bothered to make the commitment necessary to studying mathematics by attending class regularly and who clearly have no future in the field, my good friend."

"We just wanted to know when you'll be teaching her next or where we could meet with her at the same time, " Mitchell cut off the exchange between the two dons.

"In the library, I'd imagine, that is if she takes her studies seriously or maybe...," the math professor said pensively, "I know she signed up for a study group for a module on primary numbers. She should have access to the lecturers' library and also certain lecture theatres as well as our labs if she wants to. If she does, she would have to make a request 48 hours before in order to use the rooms and lecture theatres, follow me, I'll see if she's reserved any."

He picked up his things and left the classroom. The neurology professor then started up a new conversation while the team followed the two in silence and yawning all the while.

"I heard you gave your "challenge of the year," qui, soit disant, which should definitely open a lot of doors to whatever student manages to solve it Another one of your mad schemes. You know I'm not a fan of your method of encouraging that kind of rivalry in your group, you're pitting them against one another, I feel sorry for them."

"Well yes, but it also lets me see which ones are the best and brightest. You know as well as I do that this is no place for those who can't take it. Anyway, whoever solves that problem can pretty much bet their career will be set up for life and the doors will start opening everywhere. Not only that, the competition gets tougher by the year."

"Have you had an answer already?"

"Oh, no, and it will still be a while until I do, I imagine

"You ask far too much from them."

"It's the best way, studying the Newman Problem is going to be tough for them this year."

"Will it never stop!" exclaimed the neurologist. You've been working here for more than 40 years and you still haven't been able to solve it. I hope you're not expecting one of your students to come up with the answer."

"I don't expect them to find the equation, I simply want them to reflect on it. I want to see their logic and reasoning skills."

"And back to this student, don't you remember anything specific about her?" the neurologist said, changing the topic of conversation back to the original.

"No, as far as I recall she has no special affinity in Math if that's what you're getting at. She has an entirely different vision of figures, one which I don't like one bit and in truth I find a little absurd," finished the mathematician.

They arrived at his office. It was a small, well-organised room arranged with great precision. Everything in here had its place. Affixed to every wall of that room were boards in the place of windows. Complex, incomprehensible sequences of numbers were written with chalk all over those boards with crossings-out almost everywhere after making corrections. A small personal library, located towards the rear of the room, completed the office. All the books in there were on the subject of math. The professor went about searching for some sheets of paper in a folder and did not take long in doing so, being as well organised as he was. He then read out briefly:

"Today she worked with her group in the lab and then on her own in the lecture theatre and according to this she should still be there now."

He asked his assistant in the room next door if he had seen Angela around the room. He said yes and then, along with the professor, guided the team and the neurology professor towards the room. Upon their arrival, they noticed that the room was locked.

"Maybe she's already gone," the assistant pointed out, "or perhaps she's just ill? After everything that happened this week, it would hardly be a surprise."

"Why, what happened?" Daniel asked, speaking up for the first time. He had not been able to say much as his knowledge of math was fairly limited and the two professors were more than enthusiastic talking about their own subjects to one another.

"One of the labs was robbed, stem cell samples disappeared as well as other items like computers and there were also several attacks carried out on students," the neurologist explained.

The assistant took out his own keys and opened the door. The light was still switched on as well as one of the computers. Whoever had been there had clearly only just vacated the room as even the standby screen had not yet activated. Sam headed straight for the computer and began to investigate. Other things, however, drew the attention of the professors and Mitchell, namely a massive board covered all over in long, unfinished equations. Mitchell was fascinated by the complexity of the numbers he was seeing even if he did not understand their meaning. The neurology professor was the first to break the silence.

"Well, Marc, I think there you have the answer to your question."

"But it's impossible, I don't," he did not continue any further, so great was the surprise.

The numbers followed a pattern of such logic that they fascinated the professor.

"I think you should acknowledge you have a genius in your class."

"I agree," said the mathematician, "

"What are you saying?" Sam asked, "I know this theory too and I also know that no-one has been able to solve it. The scientific community has been working on this for half a century and yet here a student practically manages to come up with the answer."

"I know that this is an idea with no basis in reality and yet," he said, suddenly interested by Sam's words now he could see that she was familiar with the subject as well, the math professor added, "this person has taken an entirely new and unknown approach to the Newman theory that no-one previously had imagined," he then touched his hand to the writing on the board, concentrating on the meaning of the formulae. "Incredible," he whispered, "the first part seems correct, but who could have done it?"

"There are 15 students who have come into this room since you lectured on this subject, professor," the assistant offered.

"Angela being one of them," Mitchell added.

"I'd like to borrow the hard drive Angela was working from," Sam asked.

"Yes, of course," said the mathematician, still stunned, "but if you could please leave me for now. I'm going to test this using a programme I wrote myself. I'll leave you to it, I need to study this further," he said, indicating the table.

"I don't think you're going to get anything else out of Marc. He's obsessed with this theory, you see and if you want my opinion, I have no doubt that it was this Angela who was behind this, even if he doesn't seem to want to admit that. He doesn't like to be outdone," the neurologist said.

"Okay, we'll take this then," Sam started to detach the hard drive, "but if you hear anything or see her, contact us," Sam said, handing him her card.

"I won't hesitate," the professor finished.

The team left the two professors together in the room.

"I'd say she only just left before we got there. I checked the computer and she was there two minutes before we arrived," Sam said.

"Just before we opened the door," Mitchell said.

"You think she knows we're looking for her or that we were there?" Daniel asked.

"Well, when we were at her old command we were told that one soldier in particular frequently had arguments with her and she is a secret agent, after all, so she would be used to keeping a listen out and she must have heard us arrive," Sam informed them.

"Yeah, maybe," said Mitchell while yawning. Knowing that she had been so close made him shiver.

They made their way over to the car to return to the apartment. Thirteen hours had passed. The others ordered pizza and had already started eating by the time Sam and her team made their arrival. They briefed them on their day. Bryan and his group had found out numbers that Angela often called including one for a club, a take-out restaurant and another number linked to her previous command. The other numbers doubtless had to be those of friends . After they had finished eating, Sam went to work on the hard drive while Mitchell checked to make sure he had no texts. He sat down and started going through his messages: there was one new message. His heart began to beat harder and faster. With his hands shaking, he clicked on the unread message:

Mitchell,

this evening at 8, sign in to MSN.

Tonight.

Angela.

He re-read the message several times and then joined Daniel and Sam to tell them the news. Sam, for her part, had managed to figure out what Angela had been working on. It had in fact been Angela who had solved the Newman equation. Sam had also been able to recover small fragments of the demonstration. She then created a hotmail address so she could connected to MSN. She went about preparing other programmes so she could try and locate Angela. Once everything was set up, it was time to put the plan into motion. Mitchell sat in front of the screen while Sam and Daniel stood behind him, eyes also transfixed on the computer screen, with Sam having already explained to Daniel how the chat site worked. At 8:05 PM, Angela connected and am information window popped up on screen followed by a dialogue box. He waited a little while and then Angela started the conversation:

A: Hi

M: Hi

A: How's things?

Daniel and Sam left him alone to give him some privacy. Sam launched her programmes.

M: Good, thanks. You?

A: Same old, you wanted to talk so make it quick, I don't have much time.

M: Ok, I need your help. I've been accused of murder.

A: What? Well, you didn't do it, so what's the problem?

M: I'm not so good, something like this happened to me in the past. It's weird talking through a computer like this.

A: You're just not used to it.

M: Hey, I'm actually in France, y'know?

A: Cool.

M: In Paris, I was hoping we could meet up.

A:...

M: Was hoping to surprise you but that's been a fail.

A: Whereabouts in Paris?

M: Thirteenth arrondissement, I think.

A: Ah.

M: Ah, what?

A: Nothing, just an MSN expression. What were you saying?

Mitchell brought the window up again to figure out what he was talking about.

M: I was accused of murder once in the past.

A: And was it true?

M: No, of course not!

M: Not at the time anyway.

A: What?

M: A long time before that I had killed people in an airstrike.

A: You what?

A: What happened?

M: I was ordered to take out an enemy truck and...,

A: You said it yourself, it was an accident but your story's a bit vague.

M: There's more. Worse than that.

A: I really don't see what could be worse than that.

M: My life's in danger.

A: You're generalising a bit there, lol.

M: Lol what?

A: Lol I'm kidding.

M: Well I'm really not lol-ing. I can't tell you everything right now, it could put a lot of lives in danger, maybe millions.

A: That many?

M: Yeah.

A: Ok, listen, I have to go, it's getting late.

M: Already?

Mitchell had just been getting used to MSN and hadn't wanted their conversation to end so abruptly.

M: Don't go yet, I've got so much to tell you.

A: I think you've told me enough already. I can tell you're desperate. Listen, what d'you say we meet up here at this address at 11 tomorrow night?

M: 15, Rue de la Nuit des Folies, 75013, Paris.

A: It's a club.

A: +

M: Ok, see you tomorrow.

As soon as she then signed off, Mitchell called for Sam and Daniel. She looked at her computer and found the tracking programme: it had worked. They had an address: it was the one for the nightclub where she worked. They were finally going to see her. After announcing this to the others, they decided to plan their strategy for the next steps. They opted to all go together but that Mitchell should be the one to actually meet Angela as he had originally indicated to her. That afternoon went by quickly as they went about finalising their plan. Teal'c and Mitchell decided to go and reconnoitre the ground. The evening soon fell and the decision was made for the group to take a break; they had a long day ahead of them tomorrow and they would need all their time to prepare for it.

The next day was an early one for the whole team. After waking, they went over the plan one last time and then went to work. They found a free apartment just opposite the club. Sam had asked the owner of the club some questions and from it found out that Angela's shift started at 9 and ended when she decided, provided she gave sufficient notice. She had been working there for about a month. Her boss thought she was nice and good with the customers who got on well with her. She was paid at the end of each shift. He also informed the team that she had another job as a delivery girl. She tended to come to work either by pushbike or on her moped, which he told them was black. Bryan, John and Mitchell took care to place cameras on every point of entry to the club as well as the car parks. Then a camera was placed on Mitchell as well as a microphone. They checked that everything was working, the video as well as the audio feed and were satisfied that all preparations had been made. It took nearly all day to get everything set up with the sun setting just as it began to rain. A storm was gathering, lightning lancing across the sky. The rendez-vous time was getting closer. Teal'c and Daniel sat down at a table near the bar and one of the exits while Mitchell had placed himself on a table near one of the stages and the bar. Sam and the others handled the actual surveillance with Sam and John taking charge of the cameras attached to Mitchell and Daniel and Jack and Bryan the external cameras. It was 8 and the club was starting to fill up with servers circling the tables to take customers' orders. There was no chance they would be able to find Angela in this circus and Mitchell turned the servers away several times, wanting to stay clear-headed for this. Sam then informed him that a black moped had parked up outside behind the club and advised him to get ready as it must be Angela. From Mitchell and Daniel's point of view, there was nothing to report. The place was now getting full as the music began to play after which Sam could no longer hear very well what Mitchell was saying and the view from the cameras was not much better. Was Angela actually in the room? 11:50 and still no-one. Bryan wondered if she was ever going to show up or whether she had seen all the surveillance equipment they had set up to find her. Mitchell decided to have a little fun while he was waiting, ordering a beer and listening to the rapper who had just got up on stage . Then the noise went down noticeably; the rapper announced his next song, a duo with a friend of his, and introduced the backing dancers to the crowd. The music started up once again, the dancers began to move and the crowd were treated to a mixture of rap, hip-hop and R'n'B. Then the rapper began to sing. As he did, the younger people in the club got up on the dance floor. The crowd again started to cheer when a young woman came up on stage and started to sing and dance with the backing dancers. Mitchell then blinked and thought that there was definitely something familiar about this girl: it was...Angela. She certainly seemed to be in good shape, dancing vigorously and very well. He also noticed that the men in the room were not oblivious to Angela's charms either. When she finished her dance, she made her way over to the bar. Mitchell asked Daniel if he had seen her too but Daniel seemed surprised and a little confused at that. His mouth was agape and Mitchell wondered how he had recognised her. He turned his attention back to Angela but found that she had slipped out of his field of vision as went off looking for any sign of her. When he came back to his seat, he found her sitting there in front of him. He was surprised to say the least.

"Hi," Angela said, offering him a beer.

"Hi," Mitchell said, not quite knowing what else to say now she was finally there.

"I've taken my break and I asked if I could finish after my dance, so I'm all yours."

"Great track, by the way."

"I didn't think you'd be here so early, unless...", she cast her gaze all around her, "no, forget it. So, do you like the place?"

"Yeah, good music, pretty singers and dancers - and servers, what's not for a guy to like?" he winked at Angela hoping for a reaction.

"Is that all I am to you, just a dancer and server?"

"I said pretty dancers and servers," upon seeing that she was not laughing, he carried on, "I also know that you're something of a genius."

"Well, that's enough about me, come out with it, I'm listening," she said, sipping her cocktail.

"I don't know where to start, I..."

Someone interrupted them and asked Angela if she wanted to dance.

"Just wait a minute, I love this song, come and dance."

Mitchell turned her down. He watched as Angela headed towards the dance floor with a younger guy who led her by the hand. A distinct wave of jealousy fell over him. He watched as she dance and grinded with a guy she didn't even know. They danced vigorously. Five minutes later and the dance was finished and they followed it with a slow dance. Then the lights went out and he lost sight of her. The DJ announced the next song and the purpose of the exercise: to dance with as many different people as possible without seeing who it was they were dancing with. Mitchell got up to bring Angela back but he got lost and carried off in the crowd where a woman grabbed him and made him dance. He got the impression that there were guys dancing with him as well. Then he got sight of Angela and tried to reach her, but was carried off by another wave. As if by some miracle, he was able to catch up with her and, taking her by the hips, started to dance with her. She didn't seem to realise that she was dancing with Mitchell. He waited patiently for the slow dance to end. Then, without even thinking, his lips came close to hers and he kissed her briefly.

"Mitchell?" Angela said, somewhat surprised.

"I'm just giving you back what you once gave me and I forgot to give you back," Mitchell said in explanation.

The dance finished and as the lights came back on, she withdrew sharply from Mitchell's arms.

"We'd better sit down before someone steals our table," Angela said.

She made her way to the table and Mitchell followed. He looked over at Daniel and Teal'c who had no idea what had just gone on. He looked at her with a keen interest. Her face had not changed, save a few cicatrices; her eyes were still that soul-piercing shade of green; her hair a black main tumbling over her shoulders, white streaks standing out in her hair. Her clothes did little to hide her beautiful curves and muscled body. Her waist was tiny. Just a head shorter than him, Mitchell found her a beautiful woman. A lot of men were staring at her and eyeing Mitchell with a look of envy in their eyes while they admired his partner. She gave off a definite aura that put everyone around her in good spirits. She had a strength of personality and she surprised him as he watched her, bringing him out of his funk.

"What were we talking about anyway?" Angela asked as she took a gulp.

"You were talking about the kiss."

"No, I mean..." she said, a little confused.

"We could go some place a little quieter," Mitchell suggested.

"Yeah, good idea. I'll give you a minute to let your friends know where you are. If you want, they could come too."

Mitchell did not bother to hide his surprise. That was not at all the reaction he had been expecting. Angela stood up and started to clear the table and as she did, Mitchell made his way over to the table where Teal'c and Daniel were sitting.

"She knows," Mitchell said.

"How?" Daniel asked.

"She figured out we were watching her. She said she'd take us some place quieter. You guys wanna come with?"

"Why not?" Teal'c said, "I am eager to make her acquaintance."

Mitchell managed to find Angela amongst the fray. She was at the bar, taking a tray and loading it with drinks and heading for a curtain next to the stage facing the main exit. She gave them a sign and they came over to her. They went behind the red curtain and found themselves in another room with round tables. There were card players seated at most of them. They made for a table close to the curtain and sat themselves down.

"Daniel, nice to see you again," Angela got the conversation started.

"Likewise," Daniel said, "uh, this is Teal'c, a friend of mine, Teal'c this is Angela."

"Tarot or poker?" Angela asked.

"Poker," Teal'c said.

"I should warn you, though, she always wins," Mitchell advised.

Angela started to deal the cards.

"So, Daniel, you work with Colonel Mitchell?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Why didn't you tell me that?" she said, directing the question at Mitchell.

"I didn't know you knew each other."

"And you as well, you work with these two?"

"Indeed", said Teal'c, taking his own cards and asking for two more.

"I take it Colonel Carter is here too," she stated simply, not even waiting for a response, "I'll cut to the chase, shall I? What do you want?"

"You haven't changed, straight to the point as ever," Mitchell said, "well, like I said, we've got ourselves a major problem."

"You mean millions of people are going to die?" Angela said.

"Seriously, we have a major issue on our hands and you are the only one who can help us solve it," Daniel interjected.

"See? You're not the only one who gets straight to the point," Mitchell said as he turned towards Daniel, "a little tact wouldn't go amiss, you know."

"We don't have time for tact and the time we do have is rushing away."

"It's fine, I'm used to Daniel's ways, but I'm afraid I can't do anything to help you unless you give me a bit more detail."

Teal'c and Mitchell turned towards Daniel. Everything rested on what he was going to say.

"We can't tell you anymore than that."

"So, I'm just supposed to accept without knowing any more details, is that it?"

"Not exactly," Mitchell said.

Angela suddenly stood up and looked for a brief moment at both Mitchell and Daniel. They could not understand Angela's reaction. Her face spelled anger and almost as fast as she stood up, she left the room and fled. Mitchell tried to follow her but she was already at the back exit.

"Angela," Mitchell shouted after her.

But she was already on her moped and sped off into the night.

Mitchell went back to his friends and saw that Sam and the rest of the team had joined them.

"She's gone," Mitchell said.

"But I thought you were watching all the exits," Daniel said.

"We were, but it all happened so quickly," Sam said.

"She knew," Mitchell told her.

"How could she have known?" Bryan said.

"She knew we were watching her, Teal'c said.

"She must have noticed that we were here, it's the only way she could know," John surmised.

"It's not just that," Daniel said, "but," he hesitated, "I think she knew that we had the power to force her to come back to the US with us and she got angry because we were using her."

"And now because she is definitely angry, we will have to be doubly cautious when dealing with her." Jack advised.

The team went back to their hideout with a definite feeling of having failed. The night was getting cold and as they made their way home, nobody spoke. Mitchell kept his hands in his pockets so as to not feel the worst of the cold. One of his hands touched a piece of paper that had obviously been placed there. When he took it out, he saw an address and a room number. He thought straight away that Angela had slipped it into his pocket but when? He didn't know and he would never find out. The address was the same as her student room and he decided to hold on to it for the moment. He got the impression that she felt he had betrayed her. On arriving back at the hideout, they all contemplated their disappointing results in private. Mitchell signed into MSN to see if she was there:

M: Sorry

No answer. He then went about trying to find out where her room was. Daniel had made her see red, Mitchell would need to be more diplomatic with her. Luckily for him, he was used to difficult situations. Mitchell excused himself and went out, saying he needed to get some air.

He took the car and headed over to the university campus, the dashboard clock read two in the morning. First he went to buy a pizza and a bottle of wine which was not easy at that time of night. The place wasn't difficult to find with the GPS and he approached Block F, where Angela's room was on the third floor. In front of it was a black moped he recognised as hers. He went up to room 312 and knocked at the door. Nobody answered. He knocked again and this time he heard noise coming from the other side of the door. Someone unlocked it and opened up, Angela's tired face greeting Mitchell.

"Oh, it's you," she said as she let him through.

"I'm not bothering you, am I?" he said as he let her see the piece of paper.

"No, I just wasn't expecting to see you tonight, that's all. Come in," she said stepping away from the entrance.

Mitchell went in. She had not yet turned the light on but when she did he could clearly see a small room, maybe a bit untidy with books spread here and there as well as paper and pens that covered the remainder of the floor and the table. The walls were equally busy with posters of different actors and singers pasted all over and another wall completely dominated by pictures of animals and a large whiteboard on which were written mathematical formulae with a small box drawn in the top right-hand corner entitled: "do not forget" followed by a task list and meetings to attend. There were clothes strewn everywhere in the room. She made an attempt to tidy the place up but to little effect. She went over to her bed and sat down on it. She left the chair to Mitchell. As he did so, he noticed that the bed was unmade.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"Yes, it's been a long day."

"Well hope it gave you an appetite," he said, indicating the bottle and the pizza.

"Why not," she said, "like I said, I didn't think you would be coming tonight,..."

"I just wanted to say sorry."

"It's fine, what happened wasn't your fault, was it?"

"No of course not, but I really am happy to see you again," he said, hesitating somewhat, "don't ever think I was trying to set you up."

"What would you call it then, because that' certainly what it looked like to me," she said lightly as she stood up and took the pizza from his hands.

They suddenly both heard a moaning sound. Mitchell was startled.

"Don't worry, it's just Voyou, my dog. I must have woken him up."

He actually hadn't noticed until now but there was a furry shape curled up on the covers. It was a pretty hefty Rottweiler that had been bandaged up in a few places. It came up to Angela and fell asleep beside her.

"He was attacked," she explained as she saw the look on Mitchell's face, "he belonged to a barman, but one day he bit someone and chased after them. When he came back to his owner and he saw how he had been hurt and was bleeding, he wanted to finish him off there and then to avoid any problems with the authorities. I was passing by at the time and I couldn't let him do that, so I took him."

Mitchell could understand Angela's reaction and did not ask her how she managed to stop the man from killing his dog.

"I want you to know I was telling you the truth about my problems," Mitchell said in earnest.

On seeing that Mitchell did not intend to expand on that, Angela got up and went to look for wine glasses. As she was searching, Mitchell confessed:

"They were innocent," Mitchell began.

Angela came back:

"What?"

"I killed innocent people," he paused a second and then added, "you know the story I was telling you about, the one where I was accused of murder? That was the memory that was coming back to me."

"What are you saying?" she said as she handed him a glass and sat back down.

"I was under orders to destroy a truck meant to be carrying weapons."

Flashback

"Control, I have a visual on the truck, requesting confirmation."

...

"Control, I have the truck on my scope, do I have a go?"

"Affirmative, you have a go."

"Repeat that order."

...

"Control, can I open fire?"

"Affirmative, you have a green light."

Mitchell loaded a missile which detached from the plane and detonated on impact with the truck.

"Wait, have you fired?"

"Control, missile is already away. Why?"

"The truck was carrying civilians."

"Not weapons?"

"Negative."

End of flash back.

"They were civilians, they never asked for what happened to them," Mitchell went on.

"You were only following orders, Mitchell. I can't see what that has to do with murder."

"One day when I'd been drinking, I found myself in the same room as a woman who'd been assassinated, I had her blood all over my clothes when I woke up. So, they accused me of it straight away. I had to pass lie detectors and this is the memory that came back to me."

"There's no reason for you to be worried, I have the same problem. I haven't been near a plane since the accident, I'm too afraid of what I might be asked to do, certainly things I would never choose to do. I've also done things I didn't want to and I'm ashamed of that," Angela said, not adding that her actions actually gave her nightmares every time she went to sleep, "but let's talk about something else, shall we?"

"You knew we were there when we came into the lecture theatre?"

"Yes, I wasn't ready to meet you yet, I got scared when I heard you coming."

"So it was you who solved the problem on the board."

"Yes, except I hadn't finished. I had nothing else to do, so..."

"So, when you have nothing else to do, you do math equations to entertain yourself," Mitchell joked, "you should've seen that professor's face."

"Oh him, he really loves himself and that's all he thinks about, I...we're getting off track, I wanted to talk about another problem."

"What?"

"The one where lots of people might die."

"That's why we're here."

"I just have one question first."

"Go on"

"I have immunity, so how can you force me to go with you?"

"The Marshall Plan Law."

"But that's only used for crimes against humanity. I don't...oh."

"I'm sorry."

"Tell me."

"I can't tell you but we're in real trouble and I wouldn't have asked for your help otherwise," he said as he stepped closer to Angela. He sat down beside her and took her hands in his, "I promise nothing bad will happen to you and I'll do all I can to protect you."

"Sorry, but I need to know a little more than that or I can't help you."

"I know.

""Okay, I promise."

"I'll let you have a read of it tomorrow and I'll wait for your answer. If you want to come, call me on this number," he gave her a piece of paper with his number written on it. "Just call me, I'll be nearby and I promise I'll look after you whatever happens," Mitchell said as he stood up and left the file on a table. He made his way towards the door and left.

"Mitchell, I don't need looking after."

Mitchell blew her a kiss which Angela promptly caught before going to bed for the night, settling almost right away. Mitchell spent a moment watching her and, after pondering for a second, deposited a kiss on her forehead and then switched off the light. He took care on closing the door. On his way back he asked himself whether he had made the right call in leaving the file with her. When he got back, no-one asked him any questions so he made his way to bed. Sam was still glued to her computer as she tried to bypass the security measures Angela had put in place but she soon found she did not have the means needed to overcome them. She didn't notice the real beginning of problems to come until she took a break. The others were not getting very far; they had watched and re-watched the video feed they had recorded but to no avail. One by one they all headed off into dream world. Mitchell was up with the sun. He thought he was the first one among the team until he saw Teal'c sat cross-legged deep in meditation. Mitchell made some breakfast and then joined him.

"Couldn't sleep, Teal'c?"

"Indeed I could not."

"I saw her last night."

"As did we, Mitchell."

"No, I mean, I went to see her after what went down last night."

"To what end?"

"Well, nothing. I decided to tell her a little more and gave her the choice. Why are you smiling all of a sudden?"

"Nothing. You went to see her and offer her a choice, knowing full well that she in fact has no choice in this matter," Teal'c said.

"I know that."

"We could go and see her."

"I know that too. I just don't think we'll hear good news."

"I mean that we should go now. I would like to attempt to convince her."

"Have you seen the time? It's not even 5 AM. She won't appreciate being woken up this early."

"Nonetheless we can try. Perhaps even with gentle pressuring, she will tell us nothing."

"Okay, but why do you want to see her, Teal'c?"

"Primarily, I wish to get to know her better than I was able to yesterday and as you have already spoken to her of our problem, I would like to add my own contribution, in case she does not believe you."

"I see what you're trying to say, but she won't even have had time to read the file yet."

"I believe she will have, women by nature are curious. It is almost certain she will have at least glanced at the documents, Mitchell."

"I'm not so sure, Teal'c, I saw her go to sleep."

"What?"

"Leave it alone."

They both dressed and got ready to leave taking care not to make so much noise that it would wake the others . Mitchell took the keys to one of the cars. He then followed Tealc's lead and took the wheel. Teal'c had taken the dregs from last night and made fresh coffee. A fine rain was falling. They arrived at the campus at 5:30 AM and after driving around to find a parking spot and make their way to Building F it was nearly 6. They headed over to Angela's dorm. He knocked generally so as not to wake her roommates, but there was no answer. Mitchell then tried opening the door: it was still open as it had been when he left there a few hours before. They went in cautiously because Mitchell had not forgotten about the dog, Voyou. But the room was empty of anyone, including the dog.

"Perhaps she has already gone out," Teal'c suggested as he closed the door behind him.

"What for? Her classes don't start until 08:30 and the canteen doesn't open before 07:30."

"To walk her dog, perhaps?"

"Yeah, maybe, but she would be getting up pretty early just to do that."

"Well, in any case, her room's a real mess."

"Indeed."

Teal'c put down his beignets wherever he could find space. Mitchell was more interested in the file. He had left it right there, there was no way she could have read it already.

"Looks like we'll just have to wait," Mitchell said.

"Indeed."

Mitchell and Teal'c mulled over the various books and sheets of paper scattered pretty much everywhere when they suddenly heard a noise from the other side of the door. The door opened quietly giving way to a very drenched young woman and a dog, both of whose bodies were giving off steam. Angela's clothes were stuck to her body in such a way that her curves were clearly on show.

"Oh what a mess..." she did not have time to finish the sentence when she saw them. Her dog started to bark.

"Hi, Angela," Mitchell announced, "I'd like to introduce you to my friend Teal'c, we work together." Teal'c bowed his head lightly in place of a verbal greeting.

"Nice to meet you, but we met yesterday even if it was only brief. Make yourselves at home. Voyou!" Angela called, "go to bed, you're all wet." Her dog did as he was told.

"You're up already? I thought you'd be asleep at this time."

"No, I don't sleep much, but even if I did, I doubt I'd be able to," she said, so quietly she was practically whispering and then gradually getting louder. "I go for a run with my dog every day at around 5 AM. I read the thing you forgot to take with you and..."

"Listen, while we're on that subject, I don't want you to think that was a joke," Mitchell said before she could say anymore.

"No, you thought...," she joked. Her laughter touched them deeply and a sense of profound joy overcame them without really knowing the cause. "No, I knew it was serious when I read it."

"Indeed?" Teal'c asked.

"It actually doesn't surprise me too much. Especially the part about creating a vortex between two worlds which although it is technically impossible but not unrealistic, there are a number of theories and..."

"Don't tell me you've studied this phenomenon," Mitchell said.

"No, of course not, but I've studied physics and quantum mechanics so I'm familiar with the concept. But, as far as the Ori are concerned, I'm afraid you've lost me there. You mentioned in the report that you accidentally revealed our existence to a group of higher beings on another plane of existence with abilities that were as destructive as they were creative. But what could take you to another level of existence?"

"Ascension," Mitchell said, "but that's more Daniel's speciality, not mine."

"Daniel's" Angela said, looking surprised.

"Yeah, he's an archaeologist, so he understood the process and actually underwent it as well," Mitchell explained.

"What?" Now Angela was confused.

"Daniel was able to ascend to another level where he became a being of pure energy," Teal'c said by way of explanation.

"So you mean he had these abilities as well?" she asked.

"Yes, but he couldn't use them because he wasn't allowed to interfere in the affairs of people on lower planes. It's complicated," Mitchell explained.

"I'll give you my answer tomorrow, as we discussed," Angela said, seeing clearly that Mitchell was not going to give any more away.

"I would like to speak with you before then," Teal'c said.

"About where you come from?"

"?" both Mitchell and Teal'c looked equally stunned.

"Yes, I can tell you're not from Earth. There's a different aura to you."

"Indeed. I..."

"I'm sorry, I have to get changed out of these clothes, I don't want to get ill. I'm just going to take a shower." She headed for the bathroom, picked out some clothes and emerged with her wash bag and a bath towel saying as she came out, "watch Voyou for me, will you? Make sure he doesn't move or get on the bed."

She then left the room, leaving the two alone for half an hour before she came back.

"Okay, I'm all yours."

She was dressed in a vest top and a pair of creased old jeans. She shuffled into her slippers as a hen might. Mitchell noticed scars on her arms and the base of her neck. He also made out a bandage on her left arm. Some of the scars were clearly recent. She was wearing black mittens and the tattoo on her shoulder blade was still there; he still had no idea what it represented. For his part, Teal'c was also showing an interest in the tattoo. Without paying heed to the two men staring at her, she went to find a hairdryer and with it started to dry off her dog. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, a sign to anyone that she felt she was in danger. She looked at the men, waiting for a reaction. However, the men in question were fascinated by the young woman in front of them, sat before the window with her dog. The sunlight reflected off her hair, giving the appearance of a kind of aura around Angela. The rays highlighted the dust in the air around her.

"I believe you had something to tell me?" she said, breaking the burgeoning silence.

"Indeed," Teal'c said, as he began to tell his story. For her part, Angela listened attentively and respectfully, not asking a question or interrupting him as he spoke. As he finished saying, "that is why I fight for these men and the Jaffa are free by their own choice. They no longer bow down as they have done for millennia. While some of the Ori's powers may indeed be real, they have no right to impose their will and force anyone to worship them. We must fight them using all the methods at our disposal, few as those methods may be."

"I respect your motives, Teal'c, and they certainly are honourable but where do I fit in this 'quest' as you put it?" Angela asked.

"We need your piloting skills, but let me finish first," Mitchell said as he saw that Angela was about to react. "Daniel thinks, well we all think, that we can get those 'means' by looking for a planet where a people with the technology of the Ancients were known to live. The problem is we can't use our normal mode of transport to get there. The only vessel that can take us there is called 'Hope'."

"Hope?"Angela asked, as she continued to dry her dog.

"That's the name of the ship and only you can pilot it."

"Oh," Angela knew which ship they were referring to, the one she had studied together with Colonel Carter. "There's just one problem with that plan?"

"What is that?" Teal'c asked.

"The problem is that you'll never get me back into a plane, that simple Teal'c. Your friends know all about this," Angela responded, as she started drying her own wet hair.

"Because of the accident?" Teal'c asked.

"Not only because of that. You see, I joined the Air Force to study. I started flying because I liked to fly. I never expected to end up in a warzone, especially a war against "Martians" or whatever they were. That was no exercise, I'm not stupid. I wasn't ready then and I know now that I'll never be ready to take someone's life. Even if those were evil people and had no good inside them, they were made of flesh and blood, they were human beings. Who am I to end somebody's life. That blood on my hands put some kind of mental barrier inside my mind and that's why I'll never fly again. I may have loved flying once upon a time, but now it's my worst nightmare. I lost friends and now I'm telling you that I am not ready to climb back inside an airplane, Teal'c. After an accident, you need to face your fears. I never had that chance and now it's too late."

After that long reply, silence once again ensued. On seeing that neither appeared to have a response, she went on:

"I've paid close attention to everything you've said, but it's me who has to make the decision," with that she stood up, put her hairdryer away and took the beignet that Teal'c was holding out to her. "And now I want to go and study at the library," she said, taking her bag with her.

She put some books in the bag and left the room without turning back or even bidding farewell to her guests. They didn't even seem to realise that either until they turned round to find her gone.

"I believe that went well," Teal'c said.

"So?" Mitchell said, once he was sitting in the car.

"She appeared most agreeable, but as to what it will take in order to convince her to come with us, I cannot be certain. She is difficult to predict and stubborn-willed. We will have to exercise tact the next time we come looking for her. I could see from her expression that she has suffered a great deal and only her strength of character has allowed her to withstand it."

"Well, she's nothing if not strong. She's not shy voicing her opinions either; when she's thinking something, she lets you know about it. She doesn't shy away from the truth either, even if it offends someone. She made it pretty clear that there's little chance of her cooperating with us." Upon seeing Teal'c smile, Mitchell asked, "looks to me like you have an idea in mind."

"I cannot speak with certainty as I do not yet know her sufficiently well, however I believe that our conversation resonated with her," Teal'c said, "what we asked of her may have seemed like a challenge, something that is natural for her to want to overcome and triumph in."

"Pour etre inedit, c'est inedit, we wouldn't just ask anyone to pilot a ship through space. I think you're being a little optimistic."

"Indeed."

"So why won't she...?"

"Is that not obvious, Colonel Mitchell? There are several reasons, either to make it clear that she is not interested in this matter or simply for the sake of her own health."

"I don't think so; that never stopped her taking on a challenge before."

"Undoubtedly, but recent events have left her with personal trials she has not yet been able to overcome. In any event, she is sensitive to pain but her limits are reduced due to her health."

"Undoubtedly, Teal'c," Mitchell paused, "but I don't understand her anymore; her behaviour's changed so much. It's been a year since we last saw one another and she's definitely not as happy to see me as she was that last time. She argues as if we never parted ways, she's just strange."

"?"

"I don't know who she is anymore. Those movements that used to be so precise and fast, now they're just slow and mimic what they used to be. The way she used to look at you, her eyes were so lively and looked right through you and now they're just empty, just completely changed. And her hair, her hair was all brown and now it's full of white strands. I could keep going on , but I think you get the point."

"Many things have happened to her in this last year, Mitchell. Have you yourself not also changed during that time?"

"A lot's changed," Mitchell finished.

They made a stop at the bakery to pick up some pastries. When they got back to the apartment, they found the rest of the team up and about, coffee in hand. Mitchell shot a look at Teal'c who sat down next to Bryan and proceeded to devour his donuts. Mitchell understood now that they would say nothing to the others about their meeting with Angela.

Group morale was at zero, but not everyone had the same reasons. Some were uncertain about the purpose of their mission while others were under the impression that they were wasting their time. The rest of the day was a quiet one for the team and the weather seemed to mirror their dull mood, not aiding the situation. Each person shut off from the others, the group slowly losing its solidarity and cohesion as each hour passed. Teal'c alone continued to appear confident and attempted to infect the others with that same mood, without much success. The situation had scarcely improved the following day with morale descending into negative figures with the team barely speaking to one another. It was at this point that Sam decided to change her orders and get them moving. She ordered Teal'c, Mitchell and John to make enquiries around the "La Fiesta" club where Angela worked. She, Daniel and Bryan would head to the university. Jack had no desire to take part in the research, plagued as he was by a cold. He wanted to stay in the apartment. Sam thought he was making it up, but decided not to push it as she could not be sure how he would react. Some good humour was restored in the group. At the very least it would keep them occupied.

For his part, Jack made himself a cup of tea to see if he could shift his cold. Borrowing Bryan's laptop, he started to make way on his own investigations. They had not followed up on all the leads they had found, as some were judged to be less useful, but he was of the opposite opinion so he began to search using Angela's driving licence number, where he was sure he would find her new address. He had to bypass several layers of security on the Paris Police Academy website, all the while taking care not to be caught. Mildly surprised, he found that she actually had no driving license, yet he knew she could not be driving illegally. After a further search, he discovered that she had no national ID, or at least not anymore. As it turned out, the name she was using belonged to a young woman who had died when she was barely twenty years old, the age at which Angela had joined the French secret service. Had the ID been disappeared? Or had she merely borrowed this name. A shiver went down his spine: he admittedly knew very little about Angela, despite how hard he had searched for information about her. Even the one thing he thought he had knew about her, her name, had turned out to be yet another falsehood. He did manage to track down the dead girl's grave, apparently not far from 'Angela's' university. Of course, there was nothing he had yet found that indicated a potential cause of death, only that it had occurred in uncertain circumstances. The whole affair was a strange one. There was a file number which he promised he would later follow up on. He quickly noted down the address of the cemetery, finished his tea and wrapped up warmly before leaving the apartment. He called a taxi and when it arrived a few minutes later he asked the driver to take him to the address he had written down, whereupon the other man's smile disappeared slowly. Cemeteries were never a popular port of call. On the way there, he bought a bouquet of yellow roses, which would give him the pretext he needed to go and see her grave. He wanted to know, wanted answers to his questions. More than that, he knew that "Angela's date of death" was fast approaching.

When they got to the cemetery, he pondered how ridiculous it was for him to be there. He actually cried as he passed through the main gate. That black gate would not make anyone want to come back through it again. It was clearly a very old cemetery, as attested by the plaque that traced the history of the place. There were both individuals and whole families interred here, some of them had been there for centuries. It was also a little frightening: two gargoyles watched the entrance, both their empty eyes and large mouths wide open. The rain was pelted the statues, giving the place a certain sad aura. Jack felt goose pimples on his skin as he passed in front of them. He was not feeling comfortable. To make matters worse, he found the cemetery empty save for a few stray cats darting between the graves, long rows of which stretched off into the distance, sheltered by immense oak trees. The caretaker watched him pass with a look of distaste evident in his eyes. Jack brushed his hand against his hip just to check: he wanted to make sure his gun was still there. At that he felt immediately reassured. He walked along various rows of gravestones, seeing laid out before him the horror of death. He could make out the tombs of babies who had died when they were barely a few days old. He felt the nausea threaten to invade his throat. He had no idea why, but the thought of that tiny human being, a dead baby or child losing their life at such a young age, it made him feel sickened. He felt relieved when he spotted the row where Angela's grave was found, relieved that he had found what he was looking for before becoming too sickened by the death surrounding him. Half-abandoned tombs seemed to follow him incessantly, at this point he was unwilling even to look at the names engraved on the stones. Then, he saw a tomb that was large enough to have been for a family on whose roof there was a statue of a furious horse rearing up. The rain flowed down over the horse's muscles, bringing them out even more. There was fear in its eyes, pain too but also anger. The tomb was the size of a small house, placed in the very centre of the cemetery and overshadowing all others around it both in size and age. Behind the tomb and outside the cemetery itself stood a house with cracked walls that were like those of the tomb. It did not seem as if anyone lived there, which was understandable. After all, who would want to look out at a graveyard every day? With every step he took, doubt filled him. He came closer to the grave and read the number on it: it was definitely Angela's. His eyes settled on one thing in particular: a stone on which were written the words "here lies Angela". Those three words were engraved in gold lettering to remain for all eternity. They resonated in his head. When he raised his gaze again, that was when he saw it. There, at the entrance to the tomb, was a picture of the girl mentioned on the stone, Angela, wearing a long blue silk dress. The contrast that image had with its background made her look like an Angel, surrounded by an aura of good. He recognised her, despite the dress. In fact, he had the impression that she was not generally the type to wear dresses. The artist had successfully been able to draw out the nobility and elegance evident in the young woman's supple body. In contrast with some of the other graves, Angela's was surrounded by every type of flower, faded though they may have been, placed randomly around the gravestone with the exception of two roses. There were two of them, both black, and they had been placed at the entrance to the tomb next to the torches that looked as if they were permanently lit. The whole thing, surprisingly given its size which could quite easily accommodate a family, seemed to only have one occupant. Noticing some details, he pulled himself out of his daydreams. He spotted fresh flowers that had been laid on a low wall next to the "house", where there lay a book in which people could write down their thoughts on the deceased, or in this case one of those deceased in particular. He got closer, partly in order to take advantage of the shelter it offered and partly out of curiosity. He could tell that the flowers had only recently been placed there, as they were still wet from the rain and the book itself had not been closed. It was clear that someone had been there recently and had forgotten to close the book again when they left. He duly closed it when he saw footsteps in the mud near the wall. He bent down so he could examine them more closely. They were definitely women's shoes, that much was certain despite how faint the traces were. How could he not have thought of this earlier? He should have recognised them straight away as belonging to Angela; he knew them off by heart. From the placement of the footsteps, she had obviously been sitting on the wall where she must have leafed through the book. Then an idea flashed in his mind: what if she was still in the cemetery and was looking right at him, waiting for the right moment to pounce on him and no doubt kill him? He cast his eyes around the cemetery, his view of which was perfect given his current position. She would have been able to see him when he came in. Suddenly, he saw a shadow appear to his right. Instinctively, he put himself into defence mode. All his muscles tensed ready to be called into action. But nothing happened. He assumed it must have been a cat or he was just so affected by the damned cold. He put the bouquet he had brought alongside the others and got up to leave, but not before he decided to write something down in the book. Looking for a pen in his pocket, he actually saw one on the ground next to the wall. Stooping down to pick it up, he saw drops of blood as well. Touching it with the tip of one finger, he realised that the blood was still warm. His own blood chilled at the revelation. As the oncoming rain washed away what remained of the blood, he felt a great need to write something down. He was surprised to find that his hands were actually trembling. Shakily, he wrote:

To Angela

Now that he had started, he found he no longer knew quite what to write.

To a person so full of life. I didn't really know her, but we could have been so much closer if only she'd once stopped running away.

It didn't feel right to be writing in the past tense, an uneasiness accentuated by the fact that he knew she was still actually alive. Writing condolences about someone who wasn't really dead was beyond strange. Be that as it may, it did afford him the opportunity to say what he had never been able to say to her face.

Let's put the past behind us. A woman who was meant to do great things. She gave up her heart, her good nature and her life for humanity, which gave her back nothing but suffering, pain and disappointment.

He wasn't sure whether to sign or not. He had never exactly been a friend. He relented and signed anyway.

Jack.

He closed the book with care and put it back on the wall along with the pen. He no longer felt the suspicion that someone was spying on him. He buoyed himself to brave the torrential rain and make his way back through the rows of graves. The day was not looking promising. When he got back to the apartment, he made himself another cup of tea and turned on the heating, with the radiators next to the armchairs groaning to life. He then made his way to the sofa with Bryan's laptop balanced on his knees. He decided to try and trace Angela's death certificate, which did not prove to be an easy task. He found that every file that looked promising either proved to be empty or protected. He even managed to find a medical record with pictures of her arms and thorax covered in cuts. By that time night was falling and the others had still not made it home. He looked at the photos dejectedly when he suddenly heard a light draft. He got up while his hand automatically felt for his gun as he made for the room next door and switched on the light. He found nothing there. He assumed he was just exhausted and must be starting to imagine things. The pressure he had felt had not eased up all day long and he found himself incapable of relaxing. He turned the light off and once again went to relax on the sofa. He turned on the lamp just next to the couch, which provided just enough lighting to allow him to see the laptop he once again had balanced on his knees. The rest of the room was in darkness. As he sat there, he looked again at the photos he had found, trying to figure out where those wounds had come from. It was some time later when he felt his eyes struggling to stay open, not at all expecting what was about to happen next. It all started when he felt the need to sneeze.

"Achoo!"

"Bless you," a voice came from nowhere. "Tissue?"

"?"

Jack recoiled. Instinctively one hand connected with the butt of his gun while the other cast the light in the direction of the voice, discovering...

End of chapter

I hope you liked this chapter. I'm sorry it's been so long since the last update, but life got in the way.