My 10th instalment of my Lost and Found (and the last) story arc. Jack is in Antarctica. John and Lieutenant Colonel Sam are in Minnesota with Grace. Samantha is pregnant and waiting for Jack to come home.
Things are heating up at the SGC and John is in the firing line. Can Sam save him in time, or is he destined to repeat history?
TRIGGERS: There will be a few as the story proceeds. I will flag them as best I can both in the tags and in the Chapter Notes. Any sexual content will be flagged in the chapter by a series of flaming hearts for those of you who do not wish to read such content.
SPECIFIC TRIGGER: Please note that this story includes a relationship between a an underage character and an adult character. I DO NOT CONDONE this behaviour, but please remember that they are Sam and Jack in other forms. John is a 52 yo inside a the body of a teenager.
SUMMARY: Richard Woolsey is approached by a disgraced former Senator and a member of the International Committee while during the final days of the Program Review.
Chapter 1: New Order
Thursday, 17th June 2004 – Colorado Springs – Doctor Richard Woolsey
The morning was still new and despite knowing that Doctor Weir would already be on base, I wasn't in any hurry to conduct the final interview which would end the review period. Although I was not strictly speaking against the Stargate program, my report would push for continued civilian oversight regardless of who was in charge. While the President was extremely tight lipped on whether Doctor Weir would continue in the position, there was a whispering of a new military leader. But that was speculation. Everyone talked, even if they didn't mean to. It was part of the reason why I had a job. To listen. To observe and report my findings in as an impartial manner as possible.
"Good Morning, Sir. Your extra hot double shot cappuccino with hazelnut flavour and half the amount of foam." The waitress recited my coffee order as she placed it in front on me, then offered a cheery smile and walked back to the counter before I could say 'thank you'.
"Hazelnut cappuccino, Doctor? Sounds more like a latte." An all too familiar and exceedingly unwelcome voice commented as the chair opposite me was pulled out and a suited man who was still under the misguided assumption that he had any power situated himself before me. Rather than his normal immaculately set tie, he wore his shirt collar open, jacket unbuttoned and no little flag pin.
"Hello, Robert." I greeted without the use of his parliamentary title then promptly took a sip of my cappuccino inwardly denouncing the man in front of me for not appreciating the flavour difference between what I had ordered and a latte.
"I am still a sitting Senator of the United States of America, you will address me as such." He demanded with a pointer finger levelled in my direction.
"On the contrary, you are a disgraced former Senator of the United States of America." I informed him. "You are a liar, a kidnapper who facilitates corrupt doctors and rapists. You – Sir – are the very worst version of the very thing you claim to want to stamp out, and I will have nothing to do with you. Good day." With those words, I stood from the table and made my way to another empty table several rows over.
"Now you wait just a gosh darn minute, Doctor. There is no proof other than her word that she was manhandled in anyway." He said a little louder than was prudent as he followed and settled himself opposite me again.
"Manhandled. An eighteen-year-old girl was sexually violated in the presence of her four-year-old sister and her Uncle." I stated the cold hard facts memorised from a report I had read in conjunction with three individual statements that sickened me to my stomach.
"The four-year-old is hardly a reliable witness." He scoffed. For a man who professed family first, his blasé approach to the assault of a girl of a similar age to his oldest granddaughter was frankly shocking.
"You're forgetting the Uncle and the medical report." I reminded him. He squinted and sat back muttering something about the reliability of a report written by SGC doctors. In the end, it had been those statements and the report which enabled charges for being not only an accomplice but the ultimate instigator in the whole affair. While he may not have engaged or ordered the now deceased man to do what he did, he put those girls in danger by allowing such a person to have access to them.
"Everything I did was for this country, those people in that mountain are dangerous, they are…" He started on his same argument from prior years.
"…risking their lives every day to keep these people…" I motioned to those around me who had no idea what we were facing beyond our solar system, "…safe from external influences."
"Yes, but who started it. Who brought them down upon us." He started his tirade on the actions of Colonel Jack O'Neill, a man who had carried out a variation of his orders eight years ago. At the time, we did not know of the other Goa'uld. Leaning forward, I speared him with a glare.
"Have you ever read any of the reports given to you?" I asked the pompous bureaucrat.
"Of course, I've read them!" He barked lowly, though not enough to not garner a certain number of bewildered looks from the people around us.
"Then you would know that we…" I looked around and lowered my voice, "…we were in Ra's territory. Ra had been weakened from multiple attacks from others of his kind, hence why he returned to Abydos. It was only a matter of time."
"Pah!" He scoffed in a manner that reminded me of a small child being told he could not have a cookie.
"Your point of view was considered amongst many others when compiling my report. The fact of the matter remains that you lied, coerced, blackmailed and attempted to bring bogus charges of fraternisation against two Air Force officers, one of whom had a spotless record. May God rest her soul." I reminded him noting he did not deny the accusations this time.
"Yes, well. At least in that I have proof." He opened his coat and threw several photographs of Doctor Samantha O'Neill on the table. This again. The man really did not understand that he was beaten. This vendetta of his was ridiculous and self-serving.
"Ah, yes. The woman who is apparently not who her record shows her to be." I replied giving him a look of indefatigable incredulousness. "Tell me again, Senator, what is your evidence for accusing her of being a dead USAF officer?" I asked for a recital of his reasons why Doctor Samantha O'Neill was apparently Major Samantha Carter without any due respect given when using his former title.
"Her brother." He stated simply.
"Yes. What about him?" I pressed. While I had not interviewed her brother due to irrelevance to my investigation and his lack of clearance, I did know of him.
"Vehemently claims that he doesn't have two sisters. Detective Pete Shanahan contacted him several times and he insisted every time that his one and only sister was dead." He explained using the inadmissible evidence of a known stalker who had mysteriously disappeared after being temporarily stood down from his position at the DPD for stalking the woman Kinsey claimed was an imposter – at his behest, no less.
While it was strange that the brother was insistent that he only had one sister, there was overwhelming evidence that proved otherwise. In one of my many interviews with Doctor O'Neill, she frequently stated that she and her brother were estranged. It was not uncommon for family members to disavow knowledge of each other after a disagreement. Doctor O'Neill stated that the estrangement resulted from disagreements relating to her father's cancer treatment. Since Jacob Carter had blended with a Tok'ra, and Mark Carter was not cleared to know that; her explanation had merit. Neither the Major nor the Doctor would have been allowed to discuss their father's 'experimental' cancer treatment with their brother.
"They are estranged." I replied after a few moments of silence.
"They are both called Samantha."
"Your point?" I prompted. While it was unusual that both women had the same first name, it made a certain sense for twins that were identical. Doctor O'Neill had readily explained her parent's reasoning, a reasoning that had been backed up by her father according to Doctor Weir since she had had the very same question. The father's brief explanation of 'so I didn't have to tell them apart' convinced her it was truth, and I highly doubted that her father – a former 2-star General – would lie about that.
"There is no trace of her before the 9th of July 1998. She just appeared in the marriage records. No record of her prior education that earned her the title Doctor. Her daughter has no hospital records of her birth, just a certificate." He explained while pressing his finger into the table. "There was an SGC report from August 1999 detailing the arrival of two people from another reality. Doctor Samantha O'Neill and Major Charles Kawalsky."
"According to that same report, they were returned to their reality, and the mirror destroyed." I reminded him. "That Doctor O'Neill could not stay because of her sister – our Doctor O'Neill – in this universe." I countered, though I recalled that the report from that time failed to mention the existence of said sister that prevented her from staying. I hated this man and every underhanded thing he had ever done, but now that he had me thinking about it, the analytical part of my brain was doing what it did best. It analysed information provided to it by my near photographic memory.
"All I am asking is that you look into her." The Senator requested. Yes, I would, but not for him, or for the reasons he wanted. His reasons centred around bringing the SGC to its knees, exposing people and installing himself as a powerhouse. He was not the kind of person this country needed in a position of power. He was dangerous and undeserving with a moral compass that pointed this country and the Earth towards annihilation. No. I would look into her to find the truth because I craved it.
Straightening my back and looking at my now unappetising cold coffee, I stood and retrieved my briefcase. "I will do no such thing, Senator. Good day." I stated unequivocally, then left the coffee shop and headed for my vehicle.
The information provided to me by General Hammond had opened my eyes to the underhanded scheming of Senator Robert Kinsey and his association with a shadow conglomerate of capitalist business men and women labelled as the Trust. The selfless actions of the SGC personnel, in particular SG-1, during the attempted invasion by Anubis and the Senator's demands that he be sent to the Alpha site while they were fighting for our very existence had clearly shown which of them possessed the most integrity. A trait which I valued as the single most important a person could own.
A buzz from my pocket as I drove my rental car out of the carpark caught my attention. Picking it up, I saw that it was the French Ambassador that had been pushing for the Stargate to go public along with other nations present at last year's summit where Thor arrived to unequivocally demand that General Hammond remain in charge. Since Doctor Weir had taken over, the push to inaugurate an International Committee with the view of controlling the Stargate and its program had gained ground. No surprise that Kinsey had been steamrolling that initiative as well.
"Beauchêne." I responded, not bothering with my own name since he had called my personal number.
"Richard." He responded with his flowing French accent whispering each clearly articulated syllable of my forename – all two of them – with distinction and clarity. It was hard to tell whether he was just calling to talk, or calling because he wanted something, then I reasoned it was the latter. Beauchêne – like Kinsey – was a bureaucrat, he always wanted something. As to whether he was as morally bankrupt as Kinsey, that remained to be seen. It hadn't escaped my notice that he called within minutes of me leaving Kinsey's presence.
"How may I be of assistance, Ambassador?" I asked as bluntly as I could without being impolite. As a mere consultant, I had no control over anything that happened at the SGC.
"We – being the Committee – have placed a request with Doctor Weir for a piece of crystal technology to be retrieved for scientific analysis. She is being rather resistant to our requests." He drawled.
"For what reason?" I asked since I knew that Doctor Elizabeth Weir almost always had a valid reason for any decision she made. Educated decisiveness was one of the many virtues she possessed that made her one of the world's leading international diplomats. She had an ironclad no-nonsense sensor that could see through everything from underhanded tactics to cultural misogyny while remaining completely unbiased and objective. Comments about her being a woman never derailed her and she never defended her position by one upping someone.
"Scientific research." Came the reply. Yeah, OK, just like the Japanese whaling boats – scientific research – not that I said as much to the man.
"And what do you wish me to do?" I asked, though already suspecting what his answer would be.
"Facilitate a team to collect the artefact at the behest of the Committee." He stated. "Your assistance would place you in good stead as a future valued member of the Committee." He cajoled with an offer I apparently could not refuse.
"Ambassador, as I am sure you are aware, I am there in the capacity of a consultant for the purposes of the Program Review. The Gate is not operational at this point in time and requires an order from the President to be reactivated." I replied, giving him the facts of the situation that he was already fully aware of.
"Indeed. However, the technology we seek is on Earth." The Ambassador replied. It finally clicked into place. They wanted the crystalline power device from the Antarctic outpost which was currently off limits. Doctor O'Neill had dubbed it the ZPM or zero-point module.
"The outpost is off limits, Ambassador, as you are also fully aware." I reminded him as I made the turn onto a back street that would take me through the neighbourhood at the foot of the mountain down to Norad Road.
"Except to SGC security personnel." He answered. That was correct, not that I agreed with it. Off limits was off limits as far as I was concerned. The place was under fifty tonnes of ice and rock, so the chance of anyone infiltrating it was highly unlikely. "A team of scientists has already been vetted and given clearance to proceed with the research." He added as if that would change the fact that I could not facilitate what he was requesting without jeopardising my impartiality.
Nevertheless, it was important that whatever they found was fully researched and understood before going public and having that research done by scientists not beholden to or affiliated with the military was the best option. Doctor O'Neill was an excellent scientist but was also married to the second in command of the base which would split her loyalties, especially since he was the one in stasis.
Despite my reservations regarding Beauchêne and his probable links to Kinsey, it was important the I provided the President with as much information as possible. It was also important for the President to be completely aware of any agenda held by those currently in charge of the SGC. That would require some probing on my part, as I had been wont to do in the past to truly test a person's resolve.
"My report will be presented to the President within three working days. Rest assured, there will be a recommendation for the retrieval of any significant artefacts with research to be undertaken at a secure location by civilian scientists." I reassured him of the likely outcome without indicating any timeframe for when this would occur. For that, I would need to be fully acquainted with the situation beforehand.
"Very good, Doctor." He responded then promptly hung up. Folding my phone and placing it on the passenger seat, I turned right onto Norad Road then reached for my security pass that would get me past the visitor centre and allow me to drive on up to the following checkpoint.
After making past the second checkpoint and into the carpark my phone rang again.
"Doctor Woolsey." I answered on the second ring.
"Richard." The familiar voice said down the line.
"Mr President." I responded, straightening my back as if he had just entered a room rather than calling on the phone.
"I'm told you had a rather enjoyable breakfast conversation this morning." He dead panned in his Kennedyesque Boston accent. Enjoyable was not the word I would use for it, but the President thought it amusing I decided to continue the charade.
"Indeed, Sir." I responded, "Though not half as interesting as the call from Beauchêne."
"Is that right?" He mused. "I'm going to cut to the chase here, Woolsey. General Kennedy and General Hammond have lined up a new Air Force commander for the SGC. I want your report to include an unbiased opinion of their leader style." He confirmed the rumour of a new military commander as I pulled out my pen and notepad to record a few bullet points.
"What about Doctor Weir?" I asked since she had been placed in command fairly recently.
"We have other plans for Doctor Weir. Dependent on the new leadership at the SGC." He replied making me wonder what those plans were, though I would never ask since that information was not pertinent to my investigation of the SGC at this point in time.
"Do you require me to report on any specifics?" I asked since he had always been very clear on what he expected in the past, both as the President and before when he was the Secretary of State.
"Push them. Pry open any cracks. I am looking for a leader who will do what is best for the planet without compromising the integrity, objectivity or morality of the command. I need a leader who will not buckle under the pressure from unscrupulous people or faceless committees." He explained exactly what he was looking for. "In short, Doctor, be unscrupulous, be persistent and bring me your observations."
"As you wish, Mr President." I replied, "Good day." The click of the phone on the other side sealed my fate. I was to push and prod this new military leader and observe their behaviour and decisions. Elizabeth had already proven herself to be above reproach, refusing to hand the keys to the Gate – so to speak – over to Kinsey.
Beauchêne had given me the perfect cover by contacting me as a representative of the International Committee. If the SGC did have spies in its midst, then news would get back to Beauchêne that I had taken his bait.