Embedded Files
The Sun On The Horizon
Nine
The Searchers
Meanwhile, back at the base
PREVIOUSLY IN “PICKING UP THE PIECES”…
Black, soulless eyes stared up at him, a world of hate and revenge seething from a piece of paper straight into Jack’s heart. It’s you. I should have known you’d creep back to life one day. I never expected it to be now, and I should have. This is my fault. I’ve brought you down on Daniel, God help me.
“Colonel?” Carter and Hammond were staring at him, and at the picture that was now a crumpled mess in his fist.
“I….” Where to begin, how to say that the best friend he’d ever had was in the hands of a cold-blooded killer whose last words Jack had heard were oaths of revenge on all Jack held dear?
“General Hammond.” Teal'c interrupted.
Three faces looked at him in surprise. Teal'c held another printed photograph, this one bearing a photo of the warehouse floor. He placed it on the desk, his faced creased with worry. “This photograph is an infrared scan of the warehouse floor where Daniel Jackson was taken. There is a set of unusual markings on the floor, some fifty feet from the ringbolts where Daniel Jackson was undoubtedly restrained. The FBI was unable to identify the object that would make such a mark.”
Carter and Hammond peered at the picture, Jack pushed himself to his feet and tried to get his brain back into gear. The markings on the floor were circular, eight to ten inches wide, eight feet in diameter. It took a few moments for the realisation to sink in. Carter was way ahead of him.
“Oh, no.”
“Indeed,” Teal'c growled, his hands clenched in fury behind his back. “These markings are made by a ring-transporter, most likely from an Al-kesh cargo vessel.”
Jack looked at him, aghast, as Teal'c delivered the denouement.
“Daniel Jackson is no longer on this world.”
Å
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The others continued to discuss Teal'c’s discovery and its implications; Daniel had been taken offworld. He was lost in a galaxy full of populated planets that teemed with many people who would wish to harm him. They posited likely culprits and the selection was alarmingly large, but Jack couldn’t engage in the conversation. His thoughts spun on an endless loop of disbelief, anger and guilt.
Kolov was alive, and Daniel was suffering for the sins of Jack’s past.
“Colonel…?” Hammond’s voice, tinged with impatience, broke through his self-recrimination.
“Sir. Sorry. I….” Jack trailed off. The need to confess his guilt, to assume responsibility for Daniel’s plight was overwhelming. So. Start at the beginning. “This is all my fault, sir. I don’t know where Daniel is now, or who took him offworld or why, but I do know who was behind it all.”
Hammond reacted to the news as he did all things bizarre and unexpected: with equanimity and an encouraging nod. “Go ahead, colonel.”
Jack laid the photo of Arseniy Chahine on Hammond’s desk with exaggerated care. He glanced at his teammates. Carter looked puzzled, as did Teal'c but behind Teal'c’s implacable façade lurked something else – a demand for accountability born of his fierce desire to protect his team and avenge the wrongs committed against Daniel. Jack allowed himself a brief vision of Teal'c methodically dismembering Kolov, then he sobered.
“Kiril Kolov is his real name. Teal'c you remember that mission from 1982 the Gamekeeper so kindly made us live through, over and over again?”
“I do, O'Neill.”
“Good men died that day. Well, we found out a year later Kolov was behind it. He’d been our contact for the mission. He’d covered his ass so well, got the rest of our team back to the base in West Berlin without a hitch, we never suspected him. Turned out he was a KGB spook. ‘Course he was long gone. I thought that was the end of it, until three years later I spotted him in Rome when I was on leave.” Jack sighed. He settled back in his chair and for a moment succumbed to memories he’d left behind a decade ago. But the truth was merciless and he wasn’t going to dodge it. Not looking at the others, he ploughed on.
“So, when I saw him in Rome, well, I had contacts of my own. We set up a nice little sting, and Kolov, cautious as he was, walked right into it.” He looked at the others, suddenly aware of time slipping through his fingers. Daniel’s time. “End result was the Russians believed they’d caught a double agent. Kolov disappeared. We heard later he’d been sentenced to life with hard labour, possibly in Nerchinsk, near the Chinese border.” He glanced at Teal'c. “It was a work camp in the middle of nowhere. Place’d put Netu to shame.”
Hammed gazed at him, neither condemnation nor compassion on his face, just understanding. “Somehow this man found his way from Siberia and ended up in the Russian Stargate program?”
Jack tipped his head in agreement. “He’s methodical, calculating, resourceful and incredibly intelligent. Probably made a break for it during the Soviet fall. Changed his name, worked his way back up and by luck or design found out about the Stargate program.”
“He was listed as missing after the Watergate incident,” Carter noted, using their nickname for the Russian debacle.
Jack opened his mouth, then frowned as a frozen face surfaced from his memories of that mission. Hard upon its heels came a welter of scenarios, all of which ended in one name. “Maybourne.”
“You believe Colonel Maybourne revealed your involvement with the SGC, O'Neill?” Teal'c asked.
He found himself nodding as the sequence of events lined up like ducks on a wall. “Chahine gets himself in the Russian program. Buddies up to Maybourne who was being less than circumspect about our operations. Finds out about me….”
“If he escaped the catastrophe on the Russian base, he could be anywhere now,” Hammond said. “I can’t see how he’d be able to organise the offworld abduction of Doctor Jackson without access to a Stargate.”
“Exactly, sir. He couldn’t. Which means he’d already left Earth before their ‘gate got stuck.”
“And gone looking for someone who wanted to kidnap Daniel?” Carter’s scepticism was on full throttle. “It’s a bit of a stretch, sir. Would he really go to such extremes to get his revenge on you?”
“Oh, you betcha, Carter. Once he found out where I was, nothing would stop him from finding some way of hurting me.”
“But, Daniel?”
“Methodical, Carter. To the point of obsession. If he found out I was the one responsible for putting him on ice in Siberia, he’d bide his time, do his research, and find the best way to hurt me – by targeting someone close to me. If he couldn’t get at my family, my team is the next best thing.”
“Alright.” Hammond straightened, fingers splayed on the wooden desktop. “Major, contact Doctor Markova and ask her for any further information she might have on Chahine. Then, I’d like you and Teal'c to go through every mission report from the Russian program and see if you can identify one where either Chahine did not return to base or there was an unauthorised ‘gate activation that he might have used to escape. Colonel, I think you need to make a phone call.”
After a quiet chorus of yes, sir’s, the remains of SG-1 rose and left the office. Jack trailed the others, hoping like hell Maybourne was still feeling charitable.
Å
While Carter and Teal'c, guided by web cam conversations with Svetlana Markova, sifted through the surprisingly large amount of paperwork generated by the aborted Russian Stargate program, Jack helped Hammond rearrange the mission schedule for all the active SG teams. With SG-1 out of the rota, SG-8 down with a truly embarrassing offworld rash, and SG-13 getting over yet another set of unusual injuries – exactly how could three team members break their big toes on the same foot on the same mission? – they had twelve teams heading out into the big bad galaxy, all geared up and ready to be the first to spot one misplaced archaeologist. The MALP crews were working overtime to have enough of the machines running to keep up with the increased schedule of exploratory dial-ins. Planets that showed no sign of human activities were placed lower down the priority lists. Of primary interest were those with mid- to large-sized towns, with possible Goa'uld connections or likely to have their own offworld contacts.
Teams were briefed to subtly ask the locals about unusual comings and goings around their Stargate, or to look out for anyone or anything that might provide a clue to Daniel’s whereabouts. It was a big ask, but one each team took seriously.
Out they went into the unknown.
And back they came, one after the other. Not a single sighting of Daniel, no one knew anything, no one could help.
Å
“O'Neill.”
The sheer surprise of Teal'c raising his voice finally cut through the welter of grunts Jack made as his fists pounded into the punching bag. He broke off his attack, leaving the bag to swing back and sock him in the gut. “Teal'c?”
His implacable friend stood there, radiating serenity. For a brief instant Jack hated him for it. He shook his head and leaned on the bag. “Something up?”
“Master Bra’tac once told me that to cloud one’s mind with pointless emotion was to effectively cuckold oneself.”
Jack resisted the impulse to squirm. “He’s full of… helpful hints, isn’t he?”
Teal'c inclined his head. “I have a request.”
The silence that followed told Jack Teal'c was not about to elaborate in the middle of the gym. “My office?” he offered.
With a delicate twitch of his nose, Teal'c nodded. “I shall meet you there in ten minutes.”
Teal'c had made himself at home by the time Jack arrived, his hair still damp from the showers. He dropped into his chair and stared at Teal'c across the desk.
“We must accept that it could be some time before Daniel Jackson is found and returned home,” Teal'c began.
Jack grimaced. “Much as I wish otherwise, yeah, I think you’re right.”
“I am concerned for Daniel Jackson’s home.”
“How so? We’ve cleared all the valuables out, his work and journals are locked up and secure.”
Teal'c shifted and looked uncomfortable to Jack’s bemusement. “Among the people of Chulak, there is a belief that when a home is deserted the owner will never again be welcome within its walls. Even should he return, regardless of the reason for leaving, or the length of his absence, if the home remained empty for more than a moon’s cycle it will not again welcome an occupant. Ill luck will beset the owner all the days he lives in that house.”
“Must have been tough, you being away so much,” Jack said quietly.
“My wife was always there, or if she could not be, relatives or friends were always willing to stay in our stead. We would do no less for them.” Teal'c looked at Jack briefly: a hard, uncompromising stare. “An abandoned home loses its soul.”
The burned and shattered walls of Teal’c’s home on Chulak rose starkly in Jack’s mind. No wonder Drey’auc had never attempted to rebuild.
“What do you suggest?” They were into the second week of Daniel’s disappearance now, and no closer to finding him.
Teal’c stiffened his already ramrod posture. “I request permission to reside in Daniel Jackson’s home, to keep its spirit alive, until we are able to restore him to it.”
Jack pursed his lips. Teal'c had been given permission to live off-base a couple of years ago but he’d insisted he was comfortable on base. Perhaps he viewed his quarters as a barracks, the equivalent of his living space on one of Apophis’s ships, and therefore not worthy of the name ‘home’ and all the symbology attached to one. He nodded. He knew just how desolate an unlived-in home could feel. “I’ll clear it with Hammond. Daniel… Daniel will appreciate it, Teal’c.”
Å
As the days stretched into weeks, SG-1 fell into a new routine. When they did go offworld it was for a maximum twelve-hour recon mission. Hammond had put them back in the rota, but he’d done some reshuffling to allow the premier team the opportunity to scope out new planets or revisit established contacts that may prove useful in their search. Of the new planets that showed promise for exploration, a more detailed mission was passed on to the other teams.
Consequently, Jack, Teal'c and Carter found themselves in the unusual position of having a regular day job. Even if that workday were sometimes fourteen hours long, they still could go home each night. They quickly fell into the pattern of leaving together and driving to Daniel’s apartment. Companionable dinners were held around his dining table, accompanied by a review of the day’s mission reports.
Jack placed his empty beer bottle on the coaster on the coffee table and sank back into the sofa cushions. He stared pensively at the candles glowing on the sideboard: one of the few indications of Teal'c’s occupancy. All around them Daniel’s personality reached out to him – from the soft bubbling of the fish tank to the incongruous sword collection. The place felt alive and lived in, and Jack silently thanked Teal'c for his perceptive move. If he closed his eyes, Jack just knew Daniel would be through that door, in the study, intently working on whatever had captured his interest.
Carter shuffled a stack of copied reports and dropped them on the table. “The only possible lead today is SG-15’s sighting of someone they thought might be Daniel on P27 968. SG-8 are gating in at 0400 in civilian dress for a closer look.”
Jack pulled a face. “It’s pretty slim. There was no trace of Goa'uld activity in the town, no reason anyone would take him there, other than as a staging point to somewhere else. We’ll see.” He’d questioned Major Scott for half an hour, taking him through the sighting minute by minute. Disappointment edged with frustrated urgency gnawed at him. Their own mission that day had yielded nothing and he’d cut it short after just two hours.
Silence settled thickly between them, accentuating the ticking of Daniel’s carriage clock on the knickknack cabinet. Jack let his gaze drift around the long room. A pile of books sat on the floor in front of the bookcase, an open notepad sandwiched between them. Faces – some familiar, some not – smiled down from the photo frames gathered on the sideboard. The polished surface of the piano reflected the flickering light from Teal'c’s candles. Jack smiled. Teal'c had inserted himself between the spaces of Daniel’s belongings without displacing any part of Daniel’s home. Teal'c himself was sitting on the balcony, facing the setting sun. As if he could feel Jack’s attention on him, he rose gracefully and stepped through the French doors.
“I believe we must utilize other means to search for Daniel Jackson,” he stated quietly.
“I doubt the general can authorise any more than he has, Teal'c,” Carter replied.
Teal'c nodded. “There are other resources we could use. Resources from offworld.”
Immediately interested, Jack sat up. “What have you got in mind?”
Teal'c opened his mouth but was halted by a knock on the front door. He arched an eyebrow at Jack who shrugged a ‘go ahead’ at him. They weren’t expecting anyone.
Teal'c pressed his eye to the door’s spy hole, then opened it and gave a short bow to whomever stood beyond. “General Hammond. General Carter. Please come in.”
Jack rose slowly watching Carter – his Carter – fairly leap from her seat. She slipped past Teal'c and Hammond in the narrow hall and flung herself into Jacob’s arms.
“Sir! This is unexpected. Er,” Jack looked lamely around and picked up an unopened bottle. “Beer?”
“Thank you, Jack. Don’t mind if I do.” Hammond settled into the opposite sofa in the sunken living room.
“Jacob! What the hell are you doing here?”
Jacob followed Carter to the sofas, curiously looking around at Daniel’s home. “Jack. Nice to see you, too. Forgive us for arriving unannounced. I was finally able to hand over my mission to another operative and I wanted to come and see if I could help you look for Danny. Thanks, Sam.” He accepted a glass of wine from his daughter and she settled in beside him.
“I’ve brought Jacob up to speed on Doctor Jackson’s abduction and our search so far,” Hammond added.
Jacob nodded. “The Tok’ra High Council is quite concerned, considering Daniel’s knowledge of their bases and operations.” Jacob held up a hand to forestall the defensive outburst that sprang to Jack’s lips. “I know it may not always appear that they care about members of the SGC, but Daniel in particular is held in high regard by Per’sus and the Council. They want him safe as much as you do.”
So they can keep using him, Jack thought uncharitably. “So, they got any leads for us?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Jacob grimaced. “We’ve received reports back from all the operatives we have working under cover with the System Lords. None have seen or heard of Daniel being held prisoner. However, there are several System Lords we don’t currently have under surveillance. Bastet recently moved home base and left behind a good chunk of her personal staff, including the Tok’ra assigned to watch her. Morrigan caught the last spy we inserted into her court. She sent him back – in pieces. We haven’t been able to attach anyone to Osiris yet. Seems he’s working completely alone, not even using a Lo’taur. And Ba'al – he’s a slippery one. We haven’t been able to insert an operative on his home planet for years now. Every time we do they’re discovered within days.”
“Could we get one of our people into Ba'al’s circle, Dad?” Carter asked. “If he’s discovering Tok’ra, maybe a human could slip past his security.”
“It’s a possibility, Sam, but even finding him is no easy matter. At last count we had seven different locations for his home planet.”
“What’s the likelihood of Daniel being taken by someone other than a System Lord, Jacob?” Hammond was nursing his beer, his brow furrowed in thought.
“It’s possible, George. There are a lot of organizations and crime lords working on the fringes of Goa'uld space. One of them may have decided Daniel was the ticket to new opportunity.”
“If that’s true, then our search parameters just got a whole lot wider,” Hammond replied.
“I’m afraid so, George.”
Jack planted his butt on the arm of the sofa. “Teal'c was about to come up with a good idea, weren’t you, T?”
Teal’c, sitting on a chair at the end of the coffee table, inclined his head. “As General Carter noted, there are those who operate on the fringes of Goa'uld territory. It may behoove us to search out one who has such connections, and employ them to aid our search for Daniel Jackson.”
Jack caught Carter’s eye and they both smothered a grin. Teal'c was the only guy who could insert ‘behoove’ into a sentence and get away with it.
“That’s a pretty good idea, Teal'c,” Jacob said. “I can think of several planets where we might find someone like that.”
“Jacob, do you have any idea how much a… mercenary would cost?” Hammond asked, and was promptly drowned out by Carter and Jack both protesting – loudly.
“Sir! Surely the government wouldn’t withhold funds that could help find Daniel?”
“General, I’ll sell my damned house if I have to,” Jack declared hotly.
Hammond held up a placating hand. “I wouldn’t for one minute place Doctor Jackson’s life under the consideration of budgetary constraints. The whole facility will be on mac and cheese before that happens. I’m just looking for a ballpark figure. We’ll be needing to requisition some new equipment for the gym soon. And I think Doctor Fraiser wants one of those electron microscopes. The expensive kind,” he added with a twinkle in his eye.
“Oooh,” Carter perked up, catching on quickly. “The physics lab needs one of those too, sir. And the geo lab….”
Jack slid down into the sofa, relieved and appreciating his CO all over again.
“Keep thinking big, George,” Jacob laughed. “These guys don’t come cheap.”
“So, what are we talking here? Mercenaries?”
“I was thinking, O'Neill, of one who specialises in finding people,” Teal'c said.
“Bounty hunter!” Carter blurted out, a smile spreading across her face.
“And we know just the guy. He likes us.” Jack broke off at Teal'c’s ironically raised eyebrow. “Well, he liked Daniel.”
“Regardless of whether he liked us, I do believe the services of Aris Boch could be purchased to search for Daniel Jackson.”
“Aris Boch? I haven’t heard of him,” Jacob said.
“He’ll be vastly disappointed. He’s the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy. He told us so himself.” Jack looked at Hammond. “He doesn’t come cheap, but he’d be just the man for the job, sir.”
Hammond nodded. “Jacob, any idea where we can contact this man?”
“Uh, well… Segonya has a healthy black market. There’s always someone there who can put you on the trail of what you’re looking for. Or Pardash. Or, oh, there are half a dozen places. It could turn out just as hard to find this Boch as it is to find Daniel.” He looked at SG-1. “If you guys are ready, we can ‘gate out tomorrow morning and start hunting the Hunter.”
“Sounds good to me.” Another knock at the door interrupted Jack. “And that sounds like dinner. Sirs, you’re welcome to stay. We ordered Thai.” He got up and headed for the door. Wallet in hand he opened it to admit the tantalising scent of Thai food.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask me in, Jack? Diner’s getting cold.” Harry Maybourne, food-warmer in his arms, stood grinning at him.
Å
Jack stood at the bottom of the ramp listening to Walter’s countdown. One by one the ‘gate chevrons lit up. He forced himself to stillness, concentrating on lining up his boots exactly with the yellow and black hazard line painted on the concrete floor.
“Chevron five engaged.”
His right boot slid forward three millimetres.
“Chevron six engaged.”
Left toe back a smidge. Perfect. Behind him the others shuffled, whether from nervousness over the upcoming mission or unfamiliarity of being dressed like extras in a Dickens film, his kids and Feretti’s boys were silent – in a coiled for action kind of way. But it wasn’t action Jack expected this time out. Just answers. This was their fourth journey out to find Aris Boch. After the first three had failed to pan out, Jacob had disappeared for a couple of days, then returned confident he was on the right track. If they weren’t, they had several addresses from Harry – no guarantee as to their usefulness, though.
“Chevron seven engaged.”
The Stargate erupted into glorious life and as happened every time, Jack felt suddenly connected again to the rest of the universe. That gorgeous, hypnotic blue wash of… whatever was an open door, a step closer to Daniel. Jack caught Hammond’s eye up in the control room, and nodded back. His boots hit the ramp with a satisfying ring, Jacob matching him step for step. Up, exhale, in, out, shake off the cold and breathe air crowded with unfamiliar smells. Hands clenched on the butts of his pistol and zat secreted in the pockets of his long coat, he scoped the scene in seconds.
The Stargate stood in a large, open square of a bustling town. People walked purposefully in many directions, in and out of the streets that connected the square to the rest of the town. Very few even glanced their way; Stargate travel was obviously a common occurrence here. Jacob took the lead and Jack followed him past a group of well-dressed folks lined up at the DHD, ready to leave.
Ducking behind a tray-truck loaded with crates of vegetables, Jacob headed across a road and into a wide street, Teal'c pacing at his side and creating a kind of bow-wave that cleared a path for the rest of them. People thronged the sidewalks on both sides, while vehicles and horse-drawn carriages streamed up and down the road. Gradually, SG-2 fell back, covering their six and making the group less conspicuous. Jack noted Carter’s head swivelling this way and that as various vehicles tantalised her with their different engines. He kept his eyes on Jacob, in between mapping out the streetscape and noting possible escape routes.
Fifteen minutes’ walk had them in the town’s business district. The traffic was quieter, but the number of people moving in and out of the large stone buildings was still impressive. Jacob led them into one that hunkered on the quiet corner of another square, its nondescript façade blending in with the street and making it easier to miss. SG-2 drifted to positions of casual watchfulness while the rest went ahead. Inside, it was like an old bank Jack had once visited with his grandad when he was a kid – all dark wood, echoing vaulted ceilings and hushed voices.
This was the Hunter’s Guild Hall Jacob had briefed them on. After he’d got over the astonishment of bounty hunters having a guild to guide and regulate their trade, Jack had listened with growing appreciation to what Jacob had discovered. Apparently, one could not just bowl up to the Guild and ask to see your bounty hunter of choice. You had to make appointments, prove ability to cough up the fees required, etc. All of which Jacob had done before gating back to the SGC.
Once their IDs were cleared by the major domo, they were ushered into a small room, its walls bare and the only furniture a plain wooden bench set in the centre of the floor. Teal'c planted himself by the door, so Jack settled on the bench and examined the walls for listening devices. If they were there at all, they were well hidden. Silence wrapped them in their own thoughts. By the time the two Carters had joined him on the bench, Jack was ready to bolt.
Finally, a scrape of wood over wood had them all turning to the back wall. A panel had slid back to reveal a metal grille, and behind that was the shadowy outline of a man.
“About time.” Jack shoved to his feet and peered through the grille. “Boch? That you?”
“Names are not used during negotiations.” The voice was distorted by an awfully familiar-sounding gizmo.
“Oh, come on. We arranged to see Aris Boch. You sound like Aris Boch, so quit jerking us around.” Jack strained to see through the gloom in the next room.
A mirthless chuckle echoed out. “Jack O'Neill. As tactful as ever.” The outline moved closer, resolved into Boch’s scarred face. “I never expected to hear from you again. To what do I owe the honour of you seeking my services?” He sounded as restrained and cautious as ever.
“You told us you were the greatest bounty hunter ever. We’ve got a job for you.”
“A job? The mighty Tau’ri need little old me to help them?” Boch laughed. “Which Goa'uld are you after this time?”
“No Goa'uld. It’s one of us. Daniel, in fact.”
Boch was silent for several moments. “You want to put a contract of capture on Doctor Jackson? What did he do?”
“No. Not like that,” Jack sputtered. “We need your help to find him.”
“Daniel was kidnapped on Earth nineteen days ago,” Carter chipped in. “The evidence suggests he was taken offworld.”
“The unassuming Doctor Jackson? Well, well. You have any idea who took him?”
“No, we don’t. That’s why we need you,” Jack pressed. “We’ll pay, too.”
“Oh, you certainly will, O'Neill.”
“Boch, can you think of anyone who might want Daniel?” asked Jacob.
“You said that there were bounties for the capture of each of us,” Teal'c added. “Could it be the one who initiated these bounties?”
“Hmm, well, it’s a possibility, although his bounty wasn’t the largest. Anyone wanting to collect on them would have started with you, Teal'c, or O'Neill. And, no, I don’t know who put those bounties on the market.”
“I thought you told Daniel his bounty was worth as much as the rest of us.” Jack kept peering into the dark room beyond, wishing he could see the man’s face more clearly.
“I just said that to make him feel wanted.”
“So, Daniel’s kidnap is unrelated to the bounties? Then who did it?”
“I’m good, O'Neill, but even I don’t know everything that goes on in the universe.”
“Well, can you try? We’re the good-guys, remember.”
Boch’s chuckle echoed hollowly from the grille. “The only good-guys are the ones with the money, O'Neill. Yeah, I can look around, but don’t forget our last encounter cost me – big time.”
Jack grunted and motioned Carter closer. “Diamonds good enough for ya?”
Å
“Sir?”
“What is it, Francis?”
“Sir, the team leader’s briefing. You’re due there, well… now, actually.” The Master Sergeant’s voice floated apologetically through the open door of Jack’s office.
Great. Another round of mission reports, new assignments, and as an added joy this week, latest Intel from the Tok’ra. Jack’s hand tightened around the blue ceramic coffee mug, knowing full well that there would be a fresh round of apologetic words and sympathetic looks as each team leader reported no sign of Daniel. He really, really, didn’t want to do this again. What he really, really, wanted to do was go up to 17, root Daniel out from his moulderings and go have lunch with him, chat like buddies do, make plans for the weekend, happy in the knowledge that this young bookworm who had become his most unlikely friend was safe and where he belonged. Not lost. Not out there, somewhere. Not suffering who knew what at the hands of the Goa'uld. Not alone.
Crap.
Waiting for Aris Boch to make contact, SG-1 had been out on three missions to the addresses provided by Harry Maybourne on the night of his appearance at Daniel’s apartment. He’d been genuinely willing to help. Although he wasn’t completely forthcoming about the type of information he’d passed on to Arseniy Chahine about the SGC, he’d been more than annoyed at being taken in by the former KBG man. Harry admitted Chahine had been a willing explorer and had gone off on several solo missions to scout possible sources of tech that might prove profitable to Harry’s new schemes. They’d also accrued a list of planets that could serve as boltholes. ‘Retirement options’ was Harry’s term. Chahine had never mentioned making contact with anyone looking to get their hands on Daniel. Harry left them with the ‘gate addresses to planets they could make contact with black-marketeers, and with a promise to do what he could with the few connections he still had on Earth.
Å
Two of the addresses had tanked. One was an arid wasteland with a ghost town populated only by big hairy rat-things. Whoever had done business there had packed up and left months ago. The second was still occupied but it was clear nobody was interested in speaking to them. Hours of polite questioning degenerated into impolite aggression, which had produced a fear-fuelled admission that the Duke who ruled the state with an iron fist was wintering on the far side of the continent and would not return to do business in the town for four months. He’d been gone for two months already.
The third planet…. It still turned his stomach to think about it. A horrible little collection of leaning wooden buildings that sat on the flat grasslands like a boil on a bull’s butt. The place had teemed with people. They’d only been there five minutes when a greasy one-eyed man of indeterminate age had offered them the choicest selection of his slaves. Jack had stood rooted to the spot, flanked by Carter and Feretti, backed up by SG-2, and watched as Teal'c explained to the gentleman that in no way did they intend to purchase any of the starved, filthy, despairing people the man had in his pen.
Feeling sicker and sicker by the minute, the two teams examined every slaver in the village, pushed through the piles of human refuse to see for themselves that Daniel was not amongst the pathetically forlorn slaves. Outnumbered and outgunned, they had to close their eyes to the suffering around them and leave. On the track back to the Stargate though, Jack found himself staring at one of the slavers dragging a woman off into the grass. Heedless of Carter’s pleas for caution he stalked after them. The slaver pushed the woman to the ground, long knife raised for a fatal blow. Jack took the top of his head off with one sweet shot. When he tugged the body off the woman and helped her to her feet all he could say was, “I’m sorry.”
She was so ill she could barely stand, so he carried her back to the track and right on through the Stargate to the infirmary. Fraiser told him later that they’d found a baby, barely a week old, wrapped tight against her chest. Mother and child were going to be okay, well, after a lot of feeding up and care. Plans were already being made to contact Tupelo and ask if he’d take in yet another of the galaxy’s strays.
Å
Jack sighed, and focused on the mug in his hand. Huh. How long had that been there? It was Daniel’s mug, the huge, blue thing that had fuelled many discoveries and irritatingly insightful leaps of logic.
Daniel….
Possessively clutching the mug, Jack made his way to the briefing room, where he sat for over two hours with his fellow team leaders, absorbing, sifting and sorting the flow of information: missions completed, discoveries catalogued, new planets charted and tested. The good news was that a combined troop of four SG teams had gone back to the slaver’s village, and liberated every one of the slaves. The slavers had resisted – and regretted it. The bad news was at the end of each leader’s report came that regretful shake of the head or, “Sorry, Jack”. No sign of Daniel. No bounty hunters willing to trade him. No Goa'uld boasting of his capture.
Å
The monthly Intel debrief from the Tok’ra, Nintak, had already dragged on for forty minutes, and Jack was suddenly at breaking point. Unable to sit still, he jerked to his feet, avoiding the questioning look from Hammond. Daniel’s mug seemed to be permanently attached to his hand, so he obliged it by heading to the catering table at the back of the room. Picking up one of the carafes, he emptied the remaining few inches of coffee into it.
There ya go, buddy.
Flickering movement caught his eye. Reflected in the huge observation window was the footage from some undercover Tok’ra operative, playing on the large screen at the front of the room. Jack gazed, only half-seeing, at the gathering of Goa'uld as Nintak described Ba'al’s retinue being received at Yu’s palace for a division of spoils from a recent joint battle. Extravagantly dressed men and women flickered in the window’s reflection. Ba'al, haughty and imposing, surrounded by stiff-backed Jaffa and snooty-looking sycophants. Yu, imperious and inscrutable, seated on a throne of black lacquer and red silk.
And one figure, closely guarded and half-hidden by the press of people, veiled in shimmering black, head bowed. People shifted, settled on huge floor cushions. The veiled one sank to the floor in an oddly ungainly manner – all knees and elbows. Just like—
“Son of a bitch!”
Jack slammed the carafe down on the table, barely registering that he’d missed by two feet and the carafe was clattering loudly on the floor. He spun around, determined strides taking him across the room. Heedless of the Tok’ra’s protest, he snatched the remote out of Nintak’s hand and reversed the digital footage. Pause. Slow-mo. Pause. There. The veiled face rose, caught for a frame’s beat looking directly toward the hidden camera.
Jack felt his old heart skip and a rush of relief so pure it left him dizzy.
“Colonel?” Hammond was on his feet, peering around Jack’s shoulder.
Jack raised a finger, begging a moment’s indulgence. He snapped the finger toward the SF on duty at the door.
“You. Teal’c and Carter. Here. Now.”
The SF bolted.
“Jack?”
Unable to tear his eyes from the screen, he mumbled, “Sir, just bear with me. I need them to see.”
Hammond stepped back. A low murmuring rose up from the officers gathered around the table.
Thudding footsteps announced the arrival of Teal’c. “General Hammond,” he acknowledged politely. “O’Neill?”
Another set of boots clattered up the stairs. “Sirs?” Carter was out of breath and instinctively homed in on her team.
Jack thumbed the zoom on the player. “Look.”
Framed in shimmering black fabric and glittering silver and crystal ornaments, two blue eyes stared directly at them. Two blue eyes so achingly familiar, so dear to each of them, so well known there was no room for doubt.
“Oh – Daniel!”
“It is indeed Daniel Jackson.”
“Thank you,” Jack sighed and sucked in what felt like the first breath of fresh air in forever.
Å
“So, Ba'al’s got Doctor Jackson? Why?” Major Kiernan voiced the question that was still rumbling around in Jack’s head. With his instinctive discovery of Daniel confirmed by Teal'c and Carter, he’d insisted on re-examining the footage frame by frame, and grilled Nintak again and again for every last scrap of Intel the Tok’ra had of this meeting between Yu and Ba'al. He’d watched, emotions buttoned down tight, as the concealed camera recorded the entrance of Ba'al’s retinue. Dozens of people streamed into Yu’s hall, Ba'al in the lead and surrounded by Jaffa and servants. Now he’d been identified, Daniel could be seen directly behind Ba'al. He was clothed head to foot in shimmering black, a sparkling veil of gems shielding his eyes, but there was a lot of skin on show too. Jack didn’t like the silver bands around Daniel’s wrists or the pendant dangling down his bare chest. He appeared unrestrained but walked without protest behind the Goa'uld. Daniel was too quiet to Jack’s mind – when had Daniel ever walked anywhere without attempting to examine everything around him?
He glanced at Carter. She met his eyes with a frown. “He’s been drugged,” she said flatly, cold anger underlying her tone.
Jack flicked his gaze to Teal'c, got a nod of agreement. There was something else in Teal'c’s eyes. He wasn’t forthcoming so Jack held off asking for the moment. The filmed meeting droned on and on. Jack drank in every second of it, eyes glued to Daniel who sat quietly, head bowed at Ba'al’s feet. Definitely not right. At one point Daniel seemed to wake up to his surroundings. He began to fiddle with his bare toes, then seemed to shrink down in on himself and rock slowly back and forth. Ba'al reached out and patted Daniel’s head, stilling the movement as if Daniel were a fractious pet. Ba'al shared a joke with Yu, and Jack wanted to kill them both – slowly.
Eventually it was over. People rose and moved away. Ba'al walked past the camera’s range and out of sight. For a few heartbeats, Daniel was in plain view as he followed the Goa'uld and Jack’s breath caught in his throat as he got a good look at what Daniel had been dressed in. Not only were his arms and chest bare, but the… skirt, for want of a better name, was slit to the top of Daniel’s thighs and the material, spangly though it was, hid not one inch of his friend’s skin from view. Jack felt himself go cold. By the time his eyesight had refocused, Daniel had been hidden from view and was gone. The stunned hush around the table told him everyone else had seen too. He lifted his head and stared at Teal'c, whose grim, controlled look confirmed the sinking feeling in his gut.
Kiernan’s question broke the silence. Surprisingly, it was Teal'c who replied. “Despite appearances, I believe Ba'al seeks to use Daniel Jackson to gain tactical advantage over the other System Lords. No less a reason would persuade him to risk breaking the Asgard treaty between the Goa'uld and the Tau’ri.” Teal'c cast a stony glare over the gathered commanders. “He seeks to divert Yu from his true purpose by dressing Daniel Jackson in this manner.” Rumour and speculation were neatly nipped in the bud, and Jack saw the faces of his fellow team leaders harden with the same anger churning inside him.
“But, still, why Daniel?” Carter asked. “Ba'al has to be after something he thinks Daniel specifically can give him.”
“Perhaps Ba'al merely thought Doctor Jackson the easiest target for his purpose.” Nintak was a youngish Tok’ra, making his first debrief to the SGC. He wasn’t going to get much older with that kind of opinion. Jack glared daggers at him.
“There’s been no attack on Earth, so that tells me that either Jackson is holding out okay so far, or this planet isn’t Ba'al’s target,” said Colonel Edwards. Jack felt a surprise rush of gratitude to the hardnosed soldier.
Hammond cleared his throat, a little too loudly. “Nintak, you obviously have not met our Doctor Jackson. If you had you would never have made that assumption. Now, tell us how long ago this meeting took place.”
Nintak squirmed under Hammond’s stern look. “Six days ago, General Hammond. The report from our operative came in two days later, after Ba'al had departed.”
“Anything else happen after that meeting, or did Ba'al leave then and there?” Feretti asked.
“Oh, no, Ba'al stayed in Yu’s palace that night. There was something unusual….” The Tok’ra trailed off as he sorted through data chips and readouts. He slid a chip into the player and the screen brightened with a written report.
Jack took one look at the flowing Goa'uld script. “And what exactly was that?” he asked in a perfectly reasonable tone that had the Tok’ra blanching and blushing.
“There was to have been a ceremonial tea party the following day, to seal the agreements between Ba'al and Yu. But something odd happened. Our operative was unable to discover exactly what occurred, however, in the early hours of the morning Ba'al’s Jaffa raised an alarm and departed from the palace in haste. Some time later Lord Yu was seen returning to his rooms, just after Ba'al’s Al’kesh departed from the landing platform on the roof. Ba'al and his – ah – Doctor Jackson were not seen in the palace again. Questioning of servants later revealed they had disembarked from a Tel’tak and gone straight to the Al’kesh. It was most unusual, but we have been unable to gather any further information as to what happened.”
“Any idea where Ba'al went from there?”
“I regret no, Colonel. We assumed he returned to his home planet, but we cannot be certain.”
More questions came from the other team leaders and Hammond, ideas and suggestions were tossed around and discussed enthusiastically, but SG-1 sat quietly at one end of the table, grouped together in silent, mutual support.
Å
Jack felt about ready to leap out of his skin. He’d watched the Tok’ra footage so many times he could play it over in his head. Every step, every turn of the head, every move made by the shrouded figure screamed ‘Daniel’ to him. He propped his elbows on the briefing room table and sank his head into his hands.
The other team leaders had dispersed a while back. Feretti was gearing up his team to find Boch and relay the news. Reynolds and SG-12 were gating out with Nintak to glean as much Intel on Ba'al from the Tok’ra as possible, and also to contact Jacob. Carter was down in the anthro department coordinating with Rothman, Nyan and the rest of Daniel’s staff on researching everything they could about this new Goa'uld. None of the SGC teams had made contact with him or his Jaffa before. That and the fact that he knew enough about them to take Daniel told Jack this was a very dangerous enemy.
He lifted his head, watching Hammond through the star-chart window as he updated the president. Teal'c stood at the observation window, staring down at the Stargate. For a moment, Catherine’s voice echoed, words once spoken in this very room: ‘It’s your Stargate.’ Daniel’s blue eyes looked at Jack from the TV screen, a beacon now guiding the way to his location.
I’m coming, buddy. Just hang on till I get there.
Å
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