The evening after the Pentagon hearing, Sam sat in her office at CQS, the weight of Landry's proposal pressing heavily on her. The folder he had handed her rested on the desk, still unopened. Across from her, Natalie stood by the window, her arms crossed and her expression pensive as she gazed at the city skyline.

"You haven't opened it yet," Natalie said, breaking the silence.

Sam looked up, her blue eyes tired but sharp. "I know what's in it," she replied. "A list of terms designed to pull us back under their control. If we agree, they drop the hearing. If we refuse..." She trailed off, running a hand through her hair.

"If we refuse, they'll make good on their threats," Natalie finished, turning to face her. "Audits, legal scrutiny, contract cancellations—they'll do everything they can to break us. You know that, Sam."

Sam leaned back in her chair, her gaze fixed on the folder. "I hate this. They're forcing us to choose between our principles and our survival. It's manipulative, and it's wrong."

Natalie nodded, moving to sit across from her. "It is. But we need to decide how to respond. Have you thought about what you want to do?"

Sam's jaw tightened. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. If we agree to their terms, we lose our independence. Everything we've built at CQS becomes a tool for their agenda. But if we say no, they'll come after us with everything they have. It's not just the company at risk. It's our people and their livelihoods. And my family..." She hesitated, her voice faltering.

Natalie reached out, placing a hand on Sam's arm.

"Sam, this isn't just your fight. We're in this together, every step of the way." Sam took a deep breath, drawing strength from Natalie's unwavering support.

"Then we stand firm," she said, her voice resolute. "No compromises. Not this time. However, you are now the CEO."

Natalie studied her for a moment, then nodded.

"I agree. It's a risk, but I think it's the right call. If we stand firm, we'll show them we're not afraid to fight for our beliefs. And if we weather the storm, we'll come out stronger."

Sam's lips quirked in a small, grateful smile. "Thank you, Natalie. Your support means everything."

Natalie leaned back, her expression thoughtful. "You know, Landry and his team are banking on us backing down. They think they can intimidate us into submission. But they've underestimated you, Sam. They've underestimated us."

Sam's gaze hardened, resolve to settle over her.

"Then let's show them they were wrong." She reached for her phone, dialing Evan Rourke's number. When he answered, she spoke with calm determination. "Evan, it's Sam. Tell Landry I've reached a decision."

Natalie watched as Sam ended the call and set the phone down, her expression resolute. "What now?" Natalie asked.

Sam stood, straightening her shoulders. "Now, I tell Jack. Then I go to Landry."

That evening, Sam found Jack in the backyard, tinkering with an old lawnmower that had refused to start for weeks. He looked up as she approached, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Hey, Carter," he greeted, his tone warm. "You've got that look—the one that means you've made a decision."

Sam smiled faintly, her heart tightening at his familiarity with her.

"I have," she admitted, sitting on the edge of the workbench nearby. "Jack, I need to talk to you about what's next."

Jack straightened, his expression shifting to one of attentive curiosity.

"All right. I'm listening."

Sam hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words.

"Natalie and I…" she began, but her voice faltered as the weight of her decision loomed. Jack's steady gaze anchored her, and she drew a deep breath. "We decided…"

Jack reached over and placed his hand over hers.

"Whatever you've decided, know this first. You won't face anything, Sam. The matter is settled."

Her brows knit in confusion. "Settled? What do you mean?"

"Just trust me," Jack said firmly, his eyes meeting hers. "You're not going to jail, you're not losing CQS, and they're not coming after you."

Sam opened her mouth to press him, but something in his tone stopped her. She crossed her arms, studying him. "What did you do?"

Jack didn't answer immediately. His mind flickered back to his conversation with General McCready.

They sat in the dimly lit bar, the quiet hum of conversation around them providing a semblance of privacy. McCready nursed a glass of whiskey, his expression guarded. Jack didn't bother with pleasantries; they were past that.

"You're putting Sam in an impossible position," Jack began, his voice low but firm. "The hearing, the threats—it's all leverage, and you know it."

McCready met his gaze evenly.

"Leverage is part of the game, O'Neill. You should understand that better than anyone."

Jack leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. "I understand many things, General. Like the fact that if you push this too far, you'll lose her cooperation entirely. Sam doesn't respond well to threats."

"She's too valuable to lose," McCready countered, his tone cold. "Her expertise—"

"—isn't for sale," Jack cut him off, his voice sharper now. "Not like this. You're banking on her sense of duty but forgetting something: her loyalty isn't to you anymore. It's to her family, her company, and herself."

McCready sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "What do you want me to do, Jack? Let her walk away? We have bigger concerns than her feelings."

Jack's jaw tightened. "You let this go. Drop the hearing. No more threats, no more coercion. Find another way to get what you need."

The general's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think you're in a position to make demands?"

Jack smiled faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Because I know where the bodies are buried, McCready. Literally and figuratively. And I'm not afraid to start digging."

McCready stiffened, his face darkening. "That's a dangerous game, Jack."

"Maybe," Jack conceded, leaning back. "But I've got nothing to lose. Sam's already been through enough. I won't stand by while you use her as a pawn."

For a moment, McCready said nothing, the weight of Jack's words hanging between them. Finally, he exhaled heavily, setting his glass down with a quiet thud.

"She doesn't know, does she?" McCready asked, his voice quieter now. "What you're risking."

Jack's expression didn't falter. "She doesn't need to know. This isn't about me."

McCready studied him for a long moment before shaking his head.

"You always were willing to play the martyr. Fine, O'Neill. The hearing's off the table, and she won't face any legal consequences. But you'd better make sure she understands the stakes. This isn't over."

"It is for her," Jack replied, standing up. He tossed a few bills on the table for his drink and glanced down at McCready. "Don't make me come back."

As Jack walked out into the crisp night air, he felt the familiar weight of consequence settle on his shoulders. He'd won this round but knew McCready's warning wasn't empty. There would be a price to pay—maybe not today, but someday. And when that day came, Jack was ready to face it.

Back in the present, Jack's lips quirked in a faint smile.

"Let's just say I've got it handled."

Sam frowned but didn't press further. She trusted him, even if she didn't have all the answers. "You handled it?"

"Yes. So do whatever you want," Jack said. "If you want to keep CQS and tell Landry to shove it, you can. If you want to take the deal and work with them, that's your call, too. But don't make this decision out of fear. You and Natalie don't have to."

Sam's shoulders relaxed slightly as his words sank in. The weight of the decision still loomed, but the little voice of fear on the back of her mind gnawing at her began to dissipate. She looked at him, gratitude shining in her eyes.

"Thank you."

Jack leaned forward, his voice soft but firm.

"Whatever you decide, Carter, I've got your back."

She nodded, reaching for his hand. "It's always good to know that," she said gently, offering him a faint smile.

But her thoughts churned as they walked back inside. The house was warm and lively, the twins' giggles echoing through the halls like a soothing melody, punctuated by the occasional thud of tiny feet against the floorboards. Their laughter rippled through the air, a joyful chaos that felt like a balm against the tension coiled tightly within Sam. Sam sat in the living room, the soft hum of the TV blending with the sound of blocks clattering together as the twins played nearby. She tried to relax, sinking into the cushions, but her nerves remained taut, her mind racing with the weight of what lay ahead.

"Mommy, look!" Benji's voice broke through her thoughts. He stood in the doorway, holding up a drawing he had hastily sketched.

Sam barely glanced up. "Not now, sweetheart." Her tone was sharper than intended, cutting through the laughter like a knife.

The twins froze. Jake's lip quivered, and Benji's face fell. Sam realized her mistake instantly. She closed her eyes, guilt washing over her.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, setting the folder she hadn't even realized she was clutching down. "Mommy's just a little tired."

She stood and walked to their room, where the twins had retreated. Jake was curled up on the bed, clutching his favorite toy figure, while Benji sat on the floor with his drawing crumpled in his lap.

"Hey," Sam said softly, kneeling to their level. "I'm sorry I snapped. You didn't do anything wrong. Mommy's had a lot on her mind, but that's no excuse. Can you forgive me?"

Jake nodded slowly, and Benji handed her the drawing.

"It's for you," he said, his voice small.

Sam took it with a warm smile, her throat tightening. "Thank you. It's beautiful. I love it." She hugged them both, holding on a little longer than usual. "I love you so much, you know that?"

"We love you too, Mommy," Jake whispered.

Sam tucked them in, promising to read them a story later. Returning to the living room, she realized the toll her decision had taken. Her nerves were frayed, and every interaction felt like a delicate balancing act. She couldn't afford to lose herself in the stress—not for her family, not for herself. It was time to steady her resolve for what came next.

The following afternoon, Sam and Rourke returned to Homeworld Command to meet General Landry. The atmosphere in the building was no less oppressive than before, but this time, Sam walked in with her decision firmly in place. Rourke matched her determined stride as they approached the conference room.

Inside, Landry was seated at the head of the table, flanked by several Pentagon officials. The tension was palpable, the room quiet save for the low hum of the ventilation system. Sam took her seat across from Landry, her expression calm but resolute.

"Dr. Carter," Landry began, his tone measured. "Mr. Rourke. Thank you for coming. I trust you've had time to consider our proposal?"

"I have," Sam said, her voice calm but unyielding. "And my answer is no. I have the full support of my CEO, Dr. Natalie Pierce."

The room fell silent, tension thick as Landry's brows knit together as Rourke handed the paper signed by Natalie stating precisely what Sam had just said.

"No?" he echoed, his tone sharper than before.

"That's right," Sam replied, leaning forward slightly, her words measured. "CQS won't negotiate under coercion, General. You've underestimated me—and worse, you've underestimated the value of trust in this collaboration."

Landry's lips pressed into a thin line.

"This isn't about trust, Dr. Carter. This is about necessity."

"And necessity," Sam interrupted, her tone ice-cold, "doesn't justify manipulation. You wanted me to feel cornered. Instead, you've pushed me further away."

One of the officials opened their mouths to interject, but Sam cut them off with a sharp look. Her gaze shifted back to Landry, colder now.

"CQS could do the job you're asking for—better than anyone else—but you used the hearing and my reputation as leverage. That was your mistake. You worked with me for years. You should have known better, General." Her voice dripped with quiet fury as she spat the last word.

The room was stunned into silence, Landry's expression unreadable as he held her gaze. But Sam didn't wait for a response. She stood, smoothing her jacket, and turned to leave. Rourke was quick to follow, his face a mix of satisfaction and amusement.

As the door shut behind them, the silence in the conference room broke into a cacophony of voices, overlapping as officials scrambled to make sense of what had just happened. Sam didn't look back. She walked down the hallway with her head held high, her heels clicking against the polished floor with purposeful finality.

Rourke glanced at her as they stepped into the elevator.

"Well, that was... decisive."

Sam let out a slow breath, her composure finally wavering.

"I'm done playing their games, Evan. They wanted me to feel trapped, but I won't let them control me."

Rourke nodded, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"You handled that perfectly. They won't know what hit them."

As the elevator doors opened, Sam stepped out into the bright sunlight. She felt a weight lifting off her shoulders for the first time in weeks. She had stood her ground and reclaimed her company. Now, it was time to move forward—on her terms.

Sam and Natalie braced themselves for repercussions after declining General Landry's proposal. But nothing came. No further hearings, no audits, no lawsuits—nothing. It was as if the entire ordeal had evaporated into thin air. Sam wasn't naive enough to believe it was over without strings attached, but she also knew she had drawn a line that even the Pentagon wouldn't cross again—unless they absolutely had to.

From that moment, she made a definitive decision: CQS would no longer accept any contracts related to the military or defense. Natalie and the leadership team supported her wholeheartedly. This pivot realigned the company's focus and gave Sam peace of mind.

Sam turned her attention back to her family with her professional life settled. Jack had gone to extreme lengths to protect her, and she knew it was time to talk about what that meant for them.

That evening, Sam found Jack in his workshop at the back of their property. He had picked that hobby besides working at the animal shelter while they were divorced. He was sanding a piece of wood, his hands steady and sure, the smell of sawdust filling the air. He looked up as she entered, wiping his hands on a rag.

"Hey, Carter. What's up?" he asked, setting the wood aside.

Sam leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossed.

"I think we need to talk."

Jack's expression shifted to one of mild concern.

"All right. What's on your mind?"

She stepped further into the room, her voice soft but serious.

"What you did for me... with Landry, with the Pentagon—I know you went to great lengths to make this disappear. And I'm grateful, Jack. More than I can say."

Jack shrugged, his tone light.

"It needed to be done. I wasn't about to let them steamroll you."

"But it wasn't just about the hearing, was it?" Sam pressed. "You went out of your way to protect me, and I need to understand why. Was it just because things are better between us?"

Jack set the rag down and leaned against the workbench, meeting her gaze.

"You're right. It wasn't just about the hearing. It's about you, Sam. You've given everything to protect others—the planet, your team, your company. It's about time you felt someone had your back like you've always had everyone else's."

Sam's throat tightened at his words. "Jack... I don't know what to say to that…"

He smiled softly. "Don't. Have dinner with me tonight. Let's go out, I'm buying."

She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him, resting her head against his chest.

"I'd love to go out with you tonight."

Jack kissed the top of her head, his arms tightening around her.

"Good, because I've already made the reservation."

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, a smile breaking through her serious expression.

"Are you serious?"

"Yep," he said, his voice steady and sure.

Sam felt a sense of peace settling over her. The storm had passed, and with Jack by her side, she knew they could face whatever came next—together. Apparently, they were having dinner together tonight.

Natalie didn't mind coming over to stay with the boys while they were out. In fact, she rather enjoyed it, at least in Sam's house. Jack's house, however, was unchartered territory, and Natalie had never set foot there since Sam moved back to their house. But they needed a babysitter, and she was willing and available. After some discussion, Jack finally agreed, and Natalie came. Looking after the boys felt less like a chore and more like an opportunity to spend time with two of her favorite little people.

Natalie knew their routines by heart. Dinner was usually easy but fun—macaroni and cheese or mini-pizzas they could decorate themselves. Bathtime was a splashy, waterlogged affair, and bedtime always included two stories: one of their choosing and one she picked to calm them down. The boys would inevitably bargain for a third, claiming they weren't tired, but Natalie could tell when their eyelids drooped.

She found their trust in her touching. They never hesitated to call her for help tying their shoes, finding a missing sock, or settling disputes over which game to play. Sam left detailed instructions and promised to return by a specific time, though Natalie assured them it wasn't necessary. Jack just told her the alarm code.

As the door closed behind Sam and Jack that evening, Natalie smiled.

"All right, boys," she said, clapping her hands together. "What's the plan for tonight? Building a rocket or saving the world?"

Jake immediately grabbed her hand, leading her toward the living room. "We're building a robot!" he declared.

"After that," Benji said, trailing behind, "we're going to Mars!"

Natalie chuckled, ready for another night of imaginative adventures.

Natalie watched the twins dart around the living room, their laughter filling the air as Jake and Benji competed in a game of tag that spanned the entire house. Their energy was infectious, but she couldn't ignore the unspoken tension in the air. Even at a young age, boys can sense when something is wrong.

Dinner had been a quieter affair than usual. Jake, the more sensitive of the two, had asked why Mommy seemed so distracted lately. Natalie had tried reassuring him, but his big, blue, worried eyes stuck with her.

After the boys had finally settled to watch a movie, Natalie tidied the kitchen, the weight of CQS's situation pressing her mind. She thought of Sam, juggling the impossible: motherhood, her career, and this battle with the Pentagon. It was more than anyone should bear, but Sam's determination always shone through. Natalie had been thrilled when Sam decided to reassess her role at CQS and prioritize her family. She'd seemed lighter and genuinely happier. But now, with the Pentagon's looming, it was as if all that progress had been undone.

Halfway through the movie, Jake came into the kitchen, dragging his stuffed dog, Max, by one ear. He climbed onto a stool and rested his chin on the counter, his little face thoughtful.

"Aunt Natalie," he said softly, "is Mommy okay?"

Natalie stopped wiping the counter and knelt at eye level with him. "Of course she is, buddy. She's just got a lot on her mind right now."

Jake hesitated, clutching Max tightly. "She's not happy. I can tell."

Natalie sighed, pulling him into a hug.

"Your Mom is one of the strongest people I know. She loves you and Benji more than anything. Sometimes, grown-ups have to make tough choices. But I promise you, whatever happens, your Mommy will always take care of you."

Jake leaned into her, his voice muffled.

"What if she has to go away again? Like before?"

Natalie's heart ached at the question. Sam's choices in the past had taken her away from the boys—long nights at work had led to the divorce. This time, though, it was different. Natalie knew Sam wasn't fighting for her career; she was fighting to stay rooted in her family.

The restaurant was small, tucked away on a quiet street. Its soft amber lighting cast a warm glow over the polished wooden tables. Jack had chosen it deliberately—a place where they wouldn't be interrupted, where the hum of life around them would make the moment feel intimate, not overwhelming.

Sam sat across from him, her hair glowing golden in the candlelight, a smile tugging at her lips as she recounted the twins' latest antics. Jack barely heard her words; he was too focused on how her eyes crinkled when she laughed and pushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear without thinking.

"Jack? Are you even listening?" she teased, tilting her head.

He blinked, his lips quirking into a sheepish grin.

"Caught me, Carter. Sorry, what were you saying?"

Sam rolled her eyes playfully, but her gaze softened as she reached for his hand.

"You've been quiet tonight. Everything okay?"

Jack hesitated, his fingers tightening around hers.

"Yeah, I've just... been thinking."

Her brow furrowed slightly, concern flickering in her eyes.

"About what?"

He leaned back, taking a deep breath before meeting her gaze.

"About us. About this." He gestured vaguely between them. "You moving in. The boys. Everything."

Sam's hand stilled in his, her eyes searching his face. God, was he having second thoughts? This hearing with Landry had been complicated, but she had been home, spending time with the boys, finally feeling at home…Had she messed up again?

"What about it?" she asked slowly.

Jack's hand dipped into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet pouch. From it, he retrieved a simple band—her wedding ring. The flicker of candlelight made the metal glow, but the symbolism made Sam's breath catch.

"Jack…" Her voice trembled as her eyes darted between the ring and his steady gaze.

"I've carried this with me for weeks," he admitted, his voice steady but laced with emotion. "Every time I thought of the right moment, something stopped me. Until now."

Tears welled in Sam's eyes as she stared at the ring, her breath hitching.

"I know things got... messy," Jack continued, his voice thick with emotion. "We both made mistakes and lost each other for a while. But these past few months? Sam, they've been... everything. You and the boys—you're my everything."

Her hand trembled in his, her lips parting as she tried to speak, but no words came.

"Sam," he began, his voice low and unsteady, "I don't just want you here. I need you here, with me, with the boys. For good. No more halfway. No more guessing. Just us."

He slid the ring across the table, holding it between his fingers as he met her tear-filled gaze.

"So... what do you say, Carter? Will you move in with me—permanently—and marry me? Again? Retired, more grays, snoring and all?"

A choked laugh escaped her, a tear slipping down her cheek as she nodded fervently.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Yes, Jack. Of course, I will."

Jack let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, his grin wide and relieved as he slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, as if it had never left.

Sam threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck as her tears dampened his shirt.

"I love you," she murmured, her voice muffled but fierce.

"I love you too, Samantha," Jack replied, his arms wrapping tightly around her.

The restaurant seemed to fade away as they held each other, their past mistakes and heartaches dissolving in the face of their renewed commitment. They had found their way back to each other, and this time, they knew they wouldn't let go.

When they finally pulled apart, Sam looked at him, her smile radiant through her tears.

"You realize we'll have to tell the boys, right?"

Jack smirked, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

"I'm sure they'll take it in stride. They already think you run the place."

She laughed, and the sound light was full of joy. At that moment, Jack knew that everything was going to be okay. Their lips met in a tender and passionate kiss, a promise of the life they were reclaiming together.

Later that evening, after putting the boys to bed, Natalie stayed behind to wait for Sam and Jack's return. She couldn't help but glance at the family photos lining the walls—snapshots of birthdays, vacations, and quiet moments of joy. They told the story of a family that had fought hard to find their way back to each other.

When Sam walked in, her tired eyes softened at the sight of Natalie curled up on the couch. The two women shared a quiet moment before Natalie broke the silence. Sam exhaled, leaning back into the cushions.

"Thanks for watching them tonight. I don't say it enough, but it means a lot."

Natalie smiled as she straightened a stack of books. "You know I love spending time with those two. They're incredible kids, Sam. But they miss you."

Sam's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Natalie sat down across from her, folding her hands in her lap. "Jake asked me if you were okay. He's worried you're not happy. He even asked if you'd have to go away again."

Sam closed her eyes, the weight of the words sinking in. "I've been so caught up in everything— the Pentagon, the backstabbing... I didn't realize how much this was affecting them."

Natalie's voice was soft but firm.

"You've always carried the weight of the world, Sam. But you don't have to do it alone. Jack's here, the boys are... and they need you. Not just as the brilliant scientist or the fierce leader. They need you, the mom and the wife."

Sam looked up, her expression conflicted. "I've been trying to protect everyone—CQS, my reputation, even the Pentagon's trust. But I keep feeling like I'm failing."

Natalie reached out, squeezing her hand.

"You're not failing, Sam. CQS is already dealt with. I'm taking care of things, so maybe it's time to let go of trying to be everything to everyone. Focus on what matters most. You deserve to be happy, too."

Sam sat quietly as Natalie's words settled over her. She thought of Jake's worried eyes, Jack's unwavering support, and the home they'd rebuilt together. Natalie was right—it was time to stop letting the past and external pressures define her future.

When Natalie left that night, Sam felt a shift inside her—a clarity she hadn't embraced before.

Hours later, with the house quiet and the boys asleep, Sam and Jack curled up together in their bedroom. The world outside faded as they focused solely on each other—no folders, hearings, or distractions. Just the feel of his hand in hers, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the love that bound them.

Sam leaned into him, her voice a whisper.

"I'm yours, Jack. All in."

He kissed her forehead, his arms wrapping around her protectively.

"And I'm yours. Always."

As the night deepened, they found solace in one another, and their love was reaffirmed. Sam fully relaxed for the first time in weeks, dedicating herself to the only man she'd ever truly loved: her husband. Together, they were ready to face whatever came next, their bond stronger than ever.

The conference room was eerily silent, the echoes of Sam Carter's defiance still lingering. Landry sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled, his expression a mix of frustration and calculation. McCready stood by the window, his arms crossed as he gazed out at the sprawling city, the distant hum of traffic providing the only sound.

"She didn't just say no," Landry said, his voice sharp and controlled. "She made us look weak. Carter doesn't walk away from this without consequences."

McCready turned slightly, his face cast in shadow.

"And what consequences would you suggest? Drag her back in chains? Threaten her family? That's not just bad optics, Landry—it's suicide."

Landry's gaze hardened.

"Then what do you propose? She's too valuable to let go, and CQS is the best chance of securing the initiative. We need her in this fight even if she's no longer the CEO."

McCready's voice was calm but carried an edge of warning.

"We stand down. Let her think she's won. If we keep pushing, she'll shut us out completely. Carter's stubborn, but she's not blind. Eventually, the stakes will force her back to the table."

Landry scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

"And if they don't? What then, McCready? What do we do when she refuses to budge?"

McCready hesitated for the briefest moments, then stepped away from the window, his tone dropping to a near-whisper.

"Then we remind her what's at stake. If she still refuses... we use the leverage we've got."

Landry tilted his head, interest flickering in his eyes.

"Leverage? What kind of leverage?"

McCready's jaw tightened as he approached the table, his voice measured and cold.

"O'Neill."

Landry raised an eyebrow.

"Jack O'Neill? He's retired. What leverage could we possibly have on him?"

McCready leaned in slightly, his voice barely audible.

"Jack may be out of the game, but his past isn't. He was involved in operations that were never meant to see the light of day—missions buried so deep they don't exist on paper. I have access to classified intel that ties him to actions... and outcomes... that would ruin not just his name but the reputations of people far above us."

Landry's lips curled into a thin smile.

"You're telling me we can take down a war hero and use it to bring Carter in line. Why haven't we pulled that card yet?"

McCready straightened, his expression dark.

"Because it's not just a card, Landry—it's a bomb. If we use it, we don't just risk O'Neill and Carter. We risk everything: decades of trust, alliances, operations. The fallout would cripple us, and it would take years to rebuild. That's why it's a last resort."

Landry's smile faded as he studied McCready.

"But it's an option. And if she pushes us far enough..."

McCready's gaze didn't waver.

"Then, and only then, do we consider it. But know this—once that file is opened, there's no going back. Carter's loyalty, O'Neill's legacy, even our standing as leaders—it all burns. The fallout won't just affect them. It'll affect us, too."

Landry tapped his fingers against the table, his expression unreadable.

"So, we sit on it for now. But keep that file close, McCready. If the time comes, I'll expect you to act."

McCready nodded curtly, though his jaw remained tight.

"I'll act when it's necessary. Not a moment before."

Landry leaned back, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

"Understood. But don't forget—Carter's resilience is the only thing standing between us and a critical failure. If she doesn't come around, we'll make her."

McCready's shoulders stiffened, but he said nothing as he returned to the window. The city lights glittered below, a deceptive calm masking the storm within these walls. He hated the leverage he held, but he knew Landry would use it without hesitation. And if it came to that, McCready wasn't sure they'd survive the fallout—professionally or personally.

For now, he could only hope that Carter's defiance would waver before they reached the point of no return.