Beauty In The Broken

Filigrana

"So, what is this all about, Major?"

Sam hesitated, making a quick scan of the mall. It was packed—school had just let out, and teenagers had descended upon the place in hordes. It was precisely what she'd been hoping for. As scenarios, it seemed the best of cases. Miracle of miracles.

She'd asked the General to meet her off base. She hadn't felt comfortable speaking with him in his office—and even less so in her lab. Colonel Torres' words had shaken her just that much.

"Things change, Major. Commands change."

This location had been a sudden burst of inspiration. Unexpected. Crowded. Spontaneous. As malls went—the place was fairly basic. From the sky, it looked like a giant X. Four large retailers presided at the ends, with long rows of smaller boutiques and novelty shops spanning two stories in-between. The upper level held an expansive food court in the central concourse, while the lower floor boasted a full-size carousel and a walled-off play area for the mall's littlest patrons. The bench which she and General Hammond currently occupied sat a few yards away from the carousel, between a toy store and a coffee kiosk.

Even if someone had followed them, it was too chaotic for parabolics, and surreptitious still photography or video recording would be difficult. There wouldn't have been time to arrange any sort of covert surveillance anyway. She'd arranged for the meeting request to be given to Hammond through less-than-conventional methods, thanks to some cloak and dagger maneuvering involving Janet hand-delivering a bogus medical report. The whole thing had made Sam feel like a spy—and not just a little bit paranoid.

As did the fact that she was using her tea as a convenient prop—the bulky lid hid her lips from anyone who might try to read them, while the familiar, herby odor of the tea helped mask the myriad smells that threatened to throw her morning sickness into overdrive.

She raised her cup but didn't drink, taking a bracing sort of breath in preparation. "I'm a little concerned about security at the SGC."

"What do you mean?"

"Sir—" Sam thought she'd planned out what to say, but when it came right down to it, it was still awkward. "Is there any chance that the NID has gained a foothold in the mountain?"

"The NID?" Hammond's expression soured. "Is that why you asked me to meet you here?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And why are you concerned about them?"

This time, Sam did take a sip of her tea as she took another quick look around. Taking her time swallowing, she edged closer to the General as she organized her thoughts. "Let's say that someone takes a job under a certain set of parameters."

His keen blue eyes narrowed, but he considered carefully before nodding. "Hypothetically?"

"Hypothetically."

His lips tightened before he gave her a curt nod. "Go on, Major."

"And let's say that person—we'll call her Pam—works for a big company." She lowered the cup, running her thumb along the smooth plastic lid. "They have offices everywhere, but Pam's lab is located within a building that technically belongs to another division entirely."

Hammond nodded again. "Right."

"Pam is assigned to work towards a specific goal."

"Okay."

Sam fiddled with the cup, looking down at it as she angled herself so that she could still be heard. "She applies herself diligently on a very difficult scientific issue. It's something totally outside the realm of current scientific inquiry or knowledge. A new field of study altogether. She's making progress, but it's slow. She requests permission to contact others within the field—but outside of her own particular division—in order to get help in further understanding the problem."

"She wants to get more eyes on it."

"Yes." Sam nodded. "She's seeking collaboration with other scientists who might be able to see things from different angles. Give her new perspectives."

The General worked that through before nodding. "That would seem to be a logical course of action, given Pam's objective and situation."

"Exactly." Sam set the cup on the bench next to her, angling herself towards the General. "Pam's entire directive is to work on this and no other issue. Reaching a solution is imperative to the goals of the company, and might be the means of solving larger problems facing the human race."

"That sounds like quite the mission, Major."

"Yes, Sir. But then, Pam's direct superior tells Pam to stop working on the problem." She leaned closer, tilting her chin downward and directing her voice in Hammond's direction. "Despite the intricacy of the issue, and the necessity of solving it, Pam is instructed to abandon work on it in order to begin study on something else entirely."

"Is the new issue something worthwhile?"

"Perhaps. But it's also something that lends itself to being abused." She winced, parsing her words. "It's something that can very easily be usurped to benefit groups for whom ethics and morals matter very, very little."

"And does Pam know people such as this?"

Sam chose her words carefully. "Pam has been ordered to allow people from a different part of the company—people with whom she has had no history and about whom she knows practically nothing—to have full, unhindered access to her laboratory."

"And her laboratory is housed within a building utilized by an altogether different division of her company." Hammond shifted on his seat, grimacing as the implications unfurled between them. "Which could give these strangers access to the inner workings of places they wouldn't normally be able to enter."

"Places full of systems and technology that are vital to the security of the planet." She pressed her lips together. "Yes, Sir."

"I need to understand, Sam." Hammond's keen blue eyes took stock of her—reading her expression, the tight set of her lips, and the worried cloudiness of her eyes. "Are you telling me that Colonel Torres has changed the parameters of your work?"

"Hypothetically?"

"No. Not hypothetically. I want to know what the hell is going on within my mountain."

Sam faltered, sucking in a careful breath. She was treading a slippery slope, now. The General was no longer her Commanding Officer. Stepping outside her chain of command and disobeying or disregarding Colonel Torres' direct orders could very well result in discipline—demotion, court-martial, or even a long stint in Leavenworth.

Still—she trusted Hammond implicitly, while she carried no such regard for Torres or for the rest of his crew at Groom Lake. The SGC had been burned before by the teams there—she couldn't stand the thought of acting as a proverbial Trojan Horse for the NID to gain another foothold within Cheyenne Mountain.

As if reading her mind, Hammond sighed. "Major, if you're worried about facing disciplinary action—l assure you that you will be protected."

"I know." She'd broken protocol before—hell, she'd even disobeyed direct orders. Still—this felt different. In the past, she'd known that her action was for the greater good—planet saving stuff. Right now? She was working on a hunch. Taking a deep breath, Sam met the General's eyes. "Sir—I've been ordered to stop working on the ZPM."

Hammond's eyes narrowed as he made a careful study of the cup in his hand. His jaw worked as he ran through the implications of what he'd heard through his head, the vein in his temple pulsing steadily. "Have you been given alternate orders?"

"I have."

"I take it that this new assignment is classified."

"Yes, Sir."

"And it has you concerned?"

"Enough so that I'm bypassing my chain of command and disobeying the orders I've been given—not to mention the law—in order to bring it to your attention."

Hammond harrumphed, shaking his head as he glared out into the crowd. "And I assume that your new orders are what precipitated this conversation."

"That, at the fact that Colonel Torres wants his own people in the Mountain."

"He wants what?"

"The parameters were emailed to me this morning. It was an encoded file, only readable through an interpretation key. I only received my portion of the assignment, but Colonel Torres has already processed the transfers of three civilian personnel from Groom Lake to work with me here in Colorado."

"In my facility?"

"Technically speaking, only floors eleven and down belong to the SGC." Sam raised a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "NORAD and other installations inhabit the rest."

"And, technically speaking, your laboratory exists within Area Fifty-one's purview. There is, however, no way to separate your lab from the rest of the facility." The General grimaced. "So, I would be required to allow these people unhindered access to your level and to the levels containing common areas and administrative areas while they're working with you."

"They could go anywhere, Sir. Do anything. Short of sealing off passages using the emergency barricades, we couldn't prevent them from having unfettered access to practically the entirety of the SGC."

Hammond allowed that to settle for a moment. "And we don't know who they are, nor to whom they're really loyal."

A trio of mothers with strollers and a small herd of kids bustled past. Sam braced herself as a sudden onslaught of fresh odors assailed her and her iffy stomach. Coffee. Perfumes. Even hair products had caused a sudden rush of nausea lately.

Sam bent her head and inhaled the tea, instead. The technique had helped her mask her symptoms several times in the past few weeks, and she was grateful that it worked again this afternoon. The last thing she needed to do right now was make this particular announcement along with the other things she'd dumped on the General.

"I feel responsible, Sir." Sam sighed. "If I hadn't been granted the transfer to work under the auspices of Groom Lake—"

"None of this is your fault, Sam." Hammond shook his head. "You had no choice in the events that brought you to this point."

But she had. She could have fought longer against the ridiculous attraction she'd felt for Jack. She could have faced up to it all years ago and asked for a transfer. She could have confessed her feelings and let the system do with her—with them—what it would.

She could have taken Jake and raised him on her own.

Second guessing the past months' choices, however, wouldn't help any of them out of the current situation. Straightening, she settled the cup on her knee. "I still feel like I'm somehow responsible."

The General made a noise deep in his barrel chest, sending another sour look off into the crowd. "What do you think about Colonel Torres?"

Sam considered her answer carefully. "He's a strong leader."

Naturally, Hammond saw through that. "You don't like him."

Crinkling her nose, Sam shook her head. "He's dismissive. He makes too many assumptions. He discounts my opinions and shows little respect to his subordinates."

"It sounds like the two of you got off on the wrong foot."

"He came into this with preconceived ideas about me, Sir." Sam flicked at the plastic rim around the outer edge of her cup's lid with her thumbnail. "He knew about Jack and me. About our marriage. He knew that some fairly powerful people pulled some incredibly unwieldy strings to let me land in the position I did."

"He resented you."

"Maybe a little." With a shrug, she let her gaze wander around the place. "I think that he's ambitious. He wants to be more important than he is. I think that he's an old school military man who is having a hard time making peace with a new world and a new Air Force."

The General blinked, working that through in his mind before narrowing a keen look in Sam's direction. "Do you trust him?"

She didn't even have to think about that one, and didn't care to try to hide the vehemence of her response. "No. I don't."

"Well, I guess we'd better do a little digging and find out what's going on."

XXX

"Sam?"

"In here!"

Sam finished fastening Jake's diaper, then started working on the snaps of the boy's sleeper. She'd gotten so used to the task that she didn't even have to think about it anymore. It was part of her muscle memory—not unlike field stripping her Taurus, or adjusting the gears on her Indian. It all seemed like second nature now.

And the thing was—she liked it that way. She used to lose herself in her work, spending long hours in her lab without even considering leaving before the job was done. Tonight? She'd been watching the clock for the last hour until she'd left, anxious to get home to Jake. To this life she'd started.

Odd, when Sam had never considered herself mother material before an explosion on Level Seventeen had changed everything.

Everything.

Mostly Sam herself. She could admit that, now. She'd fought it at first—balked at committing to anything even approaching this kind of domesticity during her engagement to Jonas. And three years ago, when she'd been presented with the opportunity to adopt Cassie, the mere thought of doing so had felt almost obscenely wrong. Not because she didn't love Cassie—but because she did. Sam had known intrinsically that Janet was meant to be Cassie's mom. Sam could no more have conceived of taking on the responsibility for mothering the girl than she could have envisioned sprouting wings and flying herself to the moon.

But now? Well, here she was. A wife. A mother. Pregnant with a second child—a new baby whose heartbeat she'd listened to and watched with awe the day before, when she and Jack had met with the SGC-approved obstetrician at the Academy Medical Center. Janet had set up the appointment, claiming that maternity care was outside her area of expertise. Sam had been fine with that—every friendship has to have some limits, after all.

Sam had gazed up with wonder at the screen mounted on the wall as the technician had pressed the device against her abdomen, measuring and evaluating fetal growth and development. Jack had stood to the side holding Jake, his eyes dark and shadowed while an enigmatic, poignant sort of smile ghosted upon his lips. Sam couldn't have hoped to interpret that look in a million years.

But later that night as they'd lain in bed, he'd covered her stomach with his broad hand and turned that look on her again. She'd put her hand over his, the hair on his knuckles tickling her palm.

"I can't believe there's a baby in there." She hadn't really known what to say, so she'd blurted out the first thing that had popped into her head.

"It looked like a lima bean." His whisper had barely reached her ears.

"A lima bean with a heartbeat."

"Our lima bean with a heartbeat."

"It's still hard to take in." She'd reached out and touched his face—trailing her fingertips along the sharp edge of his jaw. "I don't feel any different."

His teeth flashed in the darkness. "Except for all the barfing."

"Well, there's that."

And then he'd rolled towards her and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. He'd smiled as he'd taken her mouth in a long, deep, searing kiss, and she hadn't thought about beans—or barfing—or anything else—until Jake had stirred around dawn.

Five months and a million changes.

"Hey." He'd come into the room silently, a skill held over from his black ops days and honed to perfection sneaking around alien motherships.

"You missed dinner." Sam finished with the tabs on Jake's diaper and worked one of the baby's chunky legs into his sleeper. "There are leftovers in the fridge."

He hesitated before breathing out a chuckle. "I'm not really hungry for food."

With a roll of her eyes, she started on Jake's second leg. "Well, it's there for you when you want it."

A few steps put him just behind her. "I missed bath time. I'm sorry about that."

"You can make up for it by reading him his stories." Sam felt Jack's hand on her hip just a breath before she felt his lips warm the side of her neck. Smiling, she quelled a shiver as his tongue teased at her skin. It took effort to focus as she fastened the last snap, then grabbed Jake before he could flip himself off the side of the changing table. "I'll get a plate ready for you for dinner."

He hummed against her skin, nibbling lightly at the spot just beneath her ear as both hands curled around her waist. "Who needs food when you taste so good?"

Gathering Jake close, she melted backwards against the large body behind her. "I taste tired."

"Mmmm." He meandered a little, pressing feather-light kisses along the nape of her neck before hugging her from behind and sighing against her temple. "Then let's get you to bed."

She'd never get used to this. Didn't even want to, really, because she'd grown to like it. All of it. She liked the shivers. The warmth. The belonging. The deep, abiding satisfaction that came with forging this family with Jack O'Neill. Not to mention the singular novelty of loving—and being loved by—this man for the rest of whenever.

And as for the whole 'going to bed' thing—Well?

"That's a strategically sound plan, Colonel." Tucking Jake's cheek against her shoulder, she turned and gave her husband a rueful smile before planting a quick, firm kiss on his lips. "Sadly, however, implementing it will have to wait until this little guy is asleep."

Jack deftly plucked Jake out of her hands and balanced the baby on his forearm as he sighed. "Well, damn."

"So—you go read stories and I'll take out the trash." She tilted her head in the direction of the diaper pail. "It's getting pretty ripe in here."

"You sure?" Jack shifted his stance as Jake leaned in to rest his cheek against his daddy's shoulder. "I could do it after Jake's in bed."

"I'm perfectly capable of emptying the garbage, Jack."

"I know." His eyes widened as he stepped back towards her. "It's just that I feel like I ought to be doing more to take care of you."

This was new. Sam considered it for a beat before asking, "Why?"

"Because things are different now."

"Because I'm pregnant?"

He raised a shoulder in a wry shrug, wincing as he narrowed a meaningful look at her. "Is that too 'raging sexist pig' of me?"

"No." Shaking her head, she bit back a smile. "No. It's sweet."

"'Sweet'." He grimaced. "How very domestic."

"I thought domestication was what you wanted."

"It is." Moving towards her, he cupped her face with his free hand and searched her expression for a moment. "It is what I wanted. What I want. You and Jake, and whoever it is you're growing in there. I want all of that."

"Da. Da boo." Tired of being ignored, Jake took the thumb out of his mouth just long enough to rub his eyes against his daddy's shoulder. Frowning, Jake pointed towards the hallway with one chubby finger. "Da. Boo."

"Go on." Stepping backwards, Sam gestured towards the diaper pail. "Don't worry. I promise I'll survive the daunting task of taking out the trash all by myself."

"Okay." He made it into the hall before peeking back through the door. "Hey—Sam?"

"What?"

"Wear a jacket. It's cold out there."

XXX

"Sam!"

Shivering against the night air, Sam rounded the edge of the shed to find Daniel standing on her walkway. He was bundled up against the evening chill, holding a stack of pizza boxes in his hands.

"Hi, Daniel."

"Jack told me to have you check the pizza." He jiggled the boxes. "Make sure it's what you ordered."

"I didn't order any pizza. What's going on?"

Daniel watched as she came closer. "Just check it, will you?"

With a puzzled look at her friend, Sam reached out and lifted the lid of the top box—a process made more difficult because she could barely feel her fingers.

Despite her husband's admonition, she hadn't bothered with a jacket, a decision she'd regretted as soon as she'd carried the garbage bag past the relative shelter of her porch and made her way around the back of the house. Damn, it was cold—made worse by a brisk January wind that bit right through her jeans and sweater.

She'd cursed internally as she'd fought with the metal cover of the garbage can—partially at the mid-winter frigidity, but mostly at herself. Why she'd ignored Jack wasn't a mystery—he'd explained it quite succinctly to Jake so many months before—Sam was, indeed, a special kind of stubborn. The fact that her husband knew her just that well was a little bit humbling.

Still, she frowned when she made sense of what was in the box—which was notably not pizza.

"So, we're doing this?" Sam touched one of the devices there, then another before lowering the cardboard lid and looking up at her friend through the darkness.

"General Hammond says it's a go." Daniel's brows rose over the rims of his glasses. "He wants to begin as soon as possible."

"He does?" She wasn't surprised that Hammond was poised to move forward, but something had to have turned up in his inquiries to move things forward so quickly. Sam made sure that the pizza box was secure before pulling her sleeves down over her hands and sidestepping in the direction of the house. "Well, we'd better get to it, then."

Falling into step beside her, Daniel gave the boxes an experimental shake. His voice was low—barely a whisper. "Just so you know, the rest of the boxes do have pizza in them."

"Then how—" Sam tapped the top box.

"Teal'c got peckish." His teeth flashed in the dark as he leaned closer to mutter directly into her ear. "Which was handy, because we hadn't thought of a way to smuggle in this stuff that wouldn't look suspicious."

Despite it all—the situation and the cold—she grinned.

They strode quickly down the walk to the back porch. Sam hustled up first to open the back door so that Daniel could slide through. She couldn't help it—she turned and gave her backyard a quick scan before pulling the door closed behind her and flicking the lock closed.

Daniel set his load down on the island, removing the top box and putting it on the breakfast bar before taking the other boxes to the table. As he flipped the lids over and bustled about the little kitchen looking for plates and cups, Sam pulled the pertinent box across the countertop and raised the lid.

"Are those the right ones?" Jack peeked over her shoulder, resting his hand at the small of her back and edging closer so he could speak softly. "Siler assured me that they'd do the trick."

Nodding, Sam tilted her head in his direction. Her voice was low when she responded. "Radio frequency scanners, a white noise machine, and frequency jamming equipment. General Hammond sent the good stuff. If the NID has bugged this place, we'll be able to find it, and then establish this house as a safe zone, effectively keeping anyone from listening in to conversations we have here."

Jack picked up a small device about the same size and shape of a walkie-talkie. It had a round antenna and fit in the palm of his hand. "We might as well get started, then."

XXX

Teal'c had insisted on taking Jake, settling onto the recliner with the baby nestled in the crook of his arm. As Sam and Jack had swept the house for bugs, Teal'c's deep baritone had kept Jake's attention through multiple readings of a book about counting colorful fish. Daniel had taken it upon himself to set up additional seating in the living room as well as lay out plates and napkins for the pizza he'd brought in the non-tech laden boxes.

Jack finished up with the bedrooms before rejoining Sam in her office area. Pulling up a chair, he watched as she jury-rigged the equipment into her computer set-up, disguising it from view behind one of her monitors.

"Do you think this'll work?"

Sam glanced over at him, shrugging as she stripped a wire and spliced it into a terminal cord. "It's what the CIA uses, so I hope so."

"The CIA." Jack rolled his eyes, his tone ripe with derision. "They only think they're better than everyone else."

Smiling, she wrapped electrical tape around the splice and then cut the end with a pocket knife and finished the job. "Well, they do tend to have the good toys. And, at the very least, this stuff should prevent electronic surveillance, as well as preventing people from being able to listen in from the outside."

"There's that."

"Hey." Daniel poked his head around the corner, leaning a shoulder against the outside wall. "Where do you keep the coffee? I was going to make a pot."

Sam met Jack's gaze with a quick grimace. Coffee had proven to be her nemesis under the current conditions—her touchy stomach revolted pretty much any time she smelled it. She'd taken to surreptitiously holding her breath whenever she even saw a mug—particularly cautious inside the Mountain, where it seemed to ooze from the walls.

Jack had taken pity on her last week at home, though, rummaging through the pantry and cupboards until he'd found it all and tossed it in the outside trash cans. At present, the O'Neill household was blissfully java-free. And while it hadn't made her morning sickness go away completely, removing that one nasty stimulus had made things decidedly more bearable.

But it would be difficult to explain all that when they still hadn't told anyone else about the pregnancy.

"We're out of coffee." Jack's dark eyes moved from Sam over to Daniel.

"Out?" Daniel frowned. "How does that even happen?"

Sam ducked her head beneath her desk to flick the surge protector back on, emerging to grab the white noise machine from the desk. Keeping her voice carefully bland, she glanced over at Daniel as she worked. "I haven't had a chance to get to the grocery store in a few days. And the last time Jake needed diapers, I went to that gigantic baby store off the freeway."

With a rueful smile, Jack shrugged. "Baby World had a big diaper sale. You've got to buy those suckers cheap when you can."

Groaning, Daniel took a shuffling step into the room. "If you'd told me, I could have brought some of the instant stuff or something."

Sam pressed her lips together as she studied the face of the machine, using her thumb to rotate one of the control dials.

Daniel's voice took on a helpful tone. "I mean—I could go get some right now if you want."

"We have tea." Jack crossed his arms over his chest, swiveling around in the chair. "Up in the cupboard next to the sink."

Tilting his chin downward, Daniel sent them both a quizzical look over the tops of his frames. "Tea?"

To which Jack grinned. "I like the mint stuff. It really packs a punch."

"Mint tea." Daniel shook his head—clearly flummoxed. Pushing away from his corner, he straightened and started back into the kitchen, muttering under his breath. "Mint."

"You're enjoying this a little too much, Jack." Sam bit back a grin as she sent a sidelong look in Jack's direction. The man was positively smirking. "You're going to give us away."

He leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. "If it were up to me, we'd have told them already, Sam."

She knew that, of course. She was the one who had insisted on keeping the pregnancy a secret. It was all just so fresh—such a huge thing to process—that she needed time to come to terms with it before sharing it with others.

Besides, things could happen—there was a reason that people tended to wait to announce their pregnancies. The obstetrician had listed a dozen things that could signal miscarriage so Sam would know when and if she should worry. With a fleeting glance in the direction Daniel had gone, she smiled. "Give it another month. After the first trimester. Then, we'll tell everyone."

He didn't answer, merely sat back in his seat and studied her with a veiled sort of resignation before turning towards the instruments on the desk. "So—we're good with all this stuff?"

After a final adjustment of the dials, Sam flicked the toggle to the 'on' position, then scooted away from the desk. "I think so. The frequency jammer is on, and the white noise machine should garble whatever a parabolic mic could pick up."

"Okay, then." Standing, Jack reached out a hand to help her up before gesturing towards the kitchen behind him. "I'll go check up on how Teal'c's doing with Jake."

"Hopefully, he's tired. We should probably put him in bed before the General gets here." Moving to follow her husband, Sam paused at the sound of a knock at the front door. With a rueful smile in Jack's direction, she shrugged. "Although I think we're too late."

"I'll get the bottle ready." Jack backed up towards the kitchen, making a random gesture in the direction of the island. "You get the door."

They hadn't turned on the porch light, but Sam could tell it was Hammond before she'd even opened the door. Something about the moonlight reflecting off the General's bare pate gave him away. She swung the door wide and stepped aside in invitation.

"Major." Hammond moved past her into the entryway. "I assume everyone else is already here?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And have you performed the necessary sweeps?"

Sam closed the door and flipped the deadbolt, scanning the street through the door's glass before turning to follow him down the hall. "We didn't find any bugs, Sir."

"That's something, at least." Stopping next to her office, he turned to wait until she'd caught up with him. "So, this should be a safe zone."

"As close as we can get to one." Sam indicated the white noise machine and the frequency jammer behind her computer terminal in her office. "I've installed the anti-surveillance equipment you sent with Daniel. Hopefully, we should be shielded from outside listening technologies."

"Good."

"Can I get you something, Sir?" Sam stepped past him into the kitchen. "Daniel brought food, and I'm sure I could find something for you to drink."

Frowning, he passed through the arch into the great room and stopped on the tile. "Actually, I would kill for a cup of coffee."

"Sadly, you're out of luck, General." Daniel spoke from behind the kitchen island. Closing the refrigerator door, he held up a bottle for the older man to see. "Closest we've got is beer."

Waving him off, Hammond moved to stand next to the sofa. With a shake of his head, he let out a rough exhale as his sharp gaze lit upon Sam again. "I'm not going to lie, Major. This entire situation has me more than a little rattled."

"I'm sorry, Sir." Sam winced as she stopped beside him. "I feel responsible for all this."

"Don't be. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have been prepared for what happened today, Sam." Hammond took a quick scan of the room, meeting each team member's gaze as he settled himself on one of the bar stools that Daniel had dragged from the kitchen into the living room. "Suffice it to say that the situation has escalated."

At the sink, Jack had just finished mixing Jake's bottle. Coming around the opposite side of the island, he stopped to retrieve Jake from Teal'c before plunking himself down on the sofa and angling the bottle into the baby's waiting hands. "We're ready, General."

"So, what's with the cloak and dagger stuff?" Dangling his bottle of beer from his fingers, Daniel came into the living room. Sinking down next to Jack, he passed a narrow look between the General and Sam. "What the hell is going on around here?"

"There's a lot to explain, Doctor Jackson." Hammond said. "But I'll let Major Carter begin, as she's the one who brought all this to my attention."

Sam took a deep breath, looking down at her hands before raising her chin. "A week ago, I was informed by Colonel Torres that I was to stop working on the ZPM."

"That's the Ancient power module from Antarctica." Daniel clarified.

"Right." Nodding, Sam roughed her palms along the fabric of her jeans. "Because the Antarctic device is our best chance at protecting the planet from alien incursion, I had been tasked with trying to figure out how the ZPM works, and how to recharge it should the need arise."

"I thought you said it couldn't be recharged." Jack adjusted Jake in his arms, wiping a droplet of formula that was dripping down the baby's cheek. "Since the thing accesses subspace and all."

"I really don't know whether it's possible or not. And nothing that Samantha left behind indicated that she'd gotten any further on that than I have." Sam shifted on her seat. "Still, I had sketched out some hypotheses to test. Before I was able to pursue them, I was pulled off the project."

"For what reason?" Teal'c sat up straighter in his armchair. "Has not Stargate Command determined that the Ancient weapon promises the best defense against the Goa'uld?"

"It has." Sam nodded. "But I'm working under the auspices of a different command, Teal'c. I have to take my orders from Colonel Torres."

"What reason did he give for pulling you off the project?"

"He doesn't have to give her a reason, Daniel." Jack glared over at his friend. "You know that."

"But surely—"

"Jack's right, Daniel." Sam slid off the stool, too keyed up to sit still. "Colonel Torres is under no obligation to justify his decisions to me. I'm just supposed to follow the orders I'm given."

"Unfortunately, those orders have put the rest of the SGC into a precarious position." General Hammond's jaw tightened before he continued. "Colonel Torres has instructed several members of his Groom Lake team to transfer to Cheyenne Mountain to work out of Major Carter's lab."

This was obviously news to Daniel. His eyes went wide behind his glasses. "As in—inside the Mountain?"

"As in—inside her lab, Daniel." Jack's voice showed quite clearly how leery he was about the prospect.

"Working on what?"

"Major?" Hammond's frown deepened as he looked over at Sam. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Sam hesitated briefly, biting her lip as she glanced over at Jack. She hadn't even told him the particulars. Only that she had reservations about the project. He hadn't pressed further—respecting the invisible line that they'd drawn between their work and their marriage. Jack was looking at her steadily, his hands deftly dealing with the bottle and the baby while his focus remained on her.

Clearing her throat, she looked down at her feet. "I've been ordered to build a workable nuclear device which has been enhanced with weapons-grade naquadah."

"Nuclear?" Daniel's eyebrows rose. "As in mushroom-shaped-cloud obliterate-everything-around it nuclear?"

"As in, big-ass bomb." Jack smiled down at Jake, his expression and tone completely at odds with his next words. "Those sons of bitches are probably planning something completely insane."

"They want to figure out how to destroy a 'Gate." Sam pressed her lips together as she let the words settle. "At least, that's what I believe. Given the parameters and yields I've been told to shoot for, it's the only logical use for a device the size they want."

"Destroy a Stargate?" Hammond's eyes went wide. "Whatever for?"

Sam hesitated for a moment before answering. She'd been thinking about little else for several days—mulling over all the ways in which a device fitting Torres' instructions could be implemented. "There are several reasons, Sir."

Daniel took a sip of his beer before gesturing in Sam's direction with the bottle. "Maybe to keep people from other planets from 'Gating to Earth."

"Could it be used that way?" Hammond straightened, looking over at Sam. "Sort of like a round-about method of burying a 'Gate, but as an offensive measure rather than defensive?"

For a moment, the only sound was that of Jake working at the last of his bottle. He'd quieted, closing his eyes and snuggling into his daddy's arms, his chunky legs splayed along Jack's lap. Once Jake had finished the last of the bottle, Jack pulled it out of his grasp and glared at it before looking pointedly at the General. "That was the plan five years ago, Sir."

Daniel squinted over at Jack. "When we went to Abydos."

"It was supposed to be a suicide mission. We were supposed to have detonated that bomb in order to close the 'Gate from that side."

"Only we didn't." Daniel scowled. "We used the bomb to destroy Ra instead."

"And that was only a nuclear device." With his customary deftness, Jack raised Jake to rest against his shoulder. The sleepy baby nestled in and found his thumb before sighing against his daddy's neck. "Can you imagine if we'd known about enhancing the thing with naquadah?"

"It's not unheard-of to use bombs as defensive measures, Sir." Sam tilted her head to one side, considering. "And the device I've been ordered to create would probably be successful in accomplishing that particular purpose."

For a moment, the group fell silent—contemplative—the insistent hum of the refrigerator and Jake's quiet work on his thumb the only sounds in the room. Sam looked at Jack, then Daniel, then over at Teal'c before returning her attention to the General. Even though she was no longer on the team, she still knew them all well enough to guess what they were all thinking.

And ultimately, Teal'c was the first one to put the thought into words. "A device such as this one could prove useful. It would be beneficial to eliminate the ability of one's enemy to travel through the Stargate."

But she'd already run the simulations. With a tight grimace, she caught his dark gaze. "Most Goa'uld planets have some level of naquadah in the soi, Teal'cl. Since the mineral permeates all of Goa'uld technology and culture, it only stands to reason that they would gravitate towards planets with substantial deposits of the ore."

"Chain reaction." Jack followed Sam's line of thinking. "So, the nuke explodes, and takes out the 'Gate. Secondary and tertiary explosions caused by environmental factors would destroy everything within miles of the 'Gate."

"My simulations indicate that the destruction would be even worse than that." She shook her head. "Depending on the amount of naquadah present in the soil, the mineral makeup of the planet, and the sizes and densities of everything involved, a bomb such as I'm being ordered to make could destroy an entire planet."

Daniel frowned at the now-empty bottle in his hand. "Which could, in turn, wreak havoc within entire solar systems."

"We've detonated very large devices on alien planets before." Hammond's expression had grown even darker, his eyes little more than flint. "What makes this situation different than those?"

"The people running the operation." Sam slid off her stool, folding her arms across her body as she paced a few feet away from the group. "Colonel Torres has been blind copying Lieutenant Colonel Samuels on all of his communications to my team. He's been feeding Samuels information for weeks."

Jack's expression turned dark. "Samuels? Mealy-faced, cowardly, sycophantic Samuels?"

"Samuels? The guy who was all gung-ho about his Goa'uld busting missile?" Hammond looked over at her. "Why him?"

"I did a little digging, General. After Apophis' failed attack on Earth, Samuels spent some time at Altus." Sam raked her finger through her hair.

"Oklahoma." Jack supplied. "That's where they train pilots on the big boys. Strategic airlift, in-air refueling. That kind of thing. That's a huge step down from the Pentagon."

"He was riding a desk there, managing the supply chain until he managed to get himself reassigned to Minot."

"North Dakota?" Daniel blanched. "That sounds unpleasant."

"You know what they say." Jack flashed a grin in the General's direction. "'Why not Minot?'"

Texas rode hard in Hammond's immediate retort. "'The freezin's the reason.'"

Suppressing a smile, Sam inhaled sharply. "Well, Minot appears to have benefitted him. From there, he made some connections that took him to Hill. And from there, it was a quick transfer back to the Pentagon."

"Let me guess." Jack pretended to consider. "Motor Pool."

"No, Jack. He's landed butter-side up." Hammond shook his head. "Lieutenant Colonel Samuels is now a lead military advisor to the Senate Armed Forces Committee."

For a moment, Jack's expression blanched. "How in the name of god is that possible?"

"Connections." General Hammond sat back in his chair, adjusting his feet on the wooden rung near the base. "Intel. Before his rather ignominious failure, Samuels was a rising star. He'd managed to gain some influential and powerful friends."

"Kinsey." Vehement disgust rang through the word—enough so that the baby dozing on his chest startled and started to whine. Rising smoothly, Jack bounced a little in place in an attempt to lull Jake back to sleep. "That bastard."

"Senator Kinsey? Really?" Daniel leaned forward, scooting towards the edge of the sofa cushion. "I thought he'd changed his focus to controlling the program rather than ending it."

"There are still factions within our government that believe that closing the 'Gate for good is our best option." The General sighed, narrowing his eyes. "However, I believe that you're correct, Doctor Jackson. Senator Kinsey wants to be in charge of things around here."

"Which is what brings us to this point." Sam sent a worried look in Hammond's direction. "And to your latest news."

Jack's frown deepened. Looking up at the General, he settled into a gentle side-to-side sway, one hand landing rhythmically on Jake's back. "Sir? What's going on?"

The General's jaw tightened for a moment as he organized his response. "When I first took command of the SGC, Samuels was part of the staff I inherited from General West. He stayed on as an assistant of sorts. I didn't really pay him too much mind. I thought that I was on my way to retirement. I never dreamed that the Stargate program would be revitalized, let alone expanded."

"We all thought it was defunct, Sir." Jack adjusted Jake again on his shoulder, reaching out to settle the empty bottle on the couch cushion next to him. "After Abydos, we thought the program would be shut down for good."

"I know that, Jack. And we all know what's happened since." He fell silent for a beat. "After the fiasco with Apophis showed Samuels' true colors, I made sure that he wouldn't ever be stationed in the SGC again."

Nobody felt the need to comment—they all knew the history.

So, Hammond merely continued. "A few weeks ago, Colonel Samuels came to the Mountain without advance notice. I don't know how he got past security—he obviously obtained a clearance somehow. One moment I was alone in my office, and the next, there he was."

"Sir?" Jack's dark eyes went hard.

"He told me that he had some powerful friends. That there were plans being made outside the regular chains of command regarding the SGC and its future. He informed me that I would need to modify my administrative style in order to remain relevant."

"What does that mean?" Daniel tilted a look at the General. "And what did you say?"

"I knew what he wanted, Doctor Jackson. It was a very thinly-veiled threat. Samuels was telling me that forces outside the Pentagon were seeking greater influence within my command. They wanted me to be far more aggressive in the pursuit of alien technologies and alliances than I have been up 'til now."

"I hope you told them to shove it up their collective asses, Sir."

Hammond actually smiled at that. "I told Samuels that he could go straight to hell and ordered him out of my Mountain."

"And did he then retreat?" Teal'c's deep voice soothed across the room.

"He did." Hammond stood, pacing around to the back of his seat and stopping near the fireplace. "But then, this afternoon, two men in an unmarked car picked up my granddaughters from school. They drove the girls around for a little while—told them that they needed to convince their grandpa to do the right thing. In order for them to be safe, they told my girls that I had to do what I was told to do. Then, they bought Kayla and Tessa ice cream and dropped them off at the park near the house."

Jack swore—quietly, but bitterly—the kind of language he rarely used anymore, and certainly not around Jake. Sam suspected that the baby sleeping on his chest was the only reason that he hadn't shouted the epithet.

"The girls are a little shaken up and wary, but they'll be okay." The General's eyes had gone flinty. "But I got the message."

Standing, Sam moved to stand next to the General, a show of solidarity as well as strength. "General Hammond and I believe that Colonel Samuels and Colonel Torres are working together. We think that they've joined forces with other entities with the sole purpose to gain a foothold in Cheyenne Mountain. They're trying to use my laboratory—my unique situation and current position—to move their operatives into the SGC. And they're attempting to extort General Hammond into going along with it by threatening his family."

"In short," Hammond scanned the men sitting before him. "It's apparent that the NID is trying to infiltrate the SGC."