Files - Part 2
Jack nailed two things at Cheyenne Mountain's main gate. Daniel had signed out, and Maybourne had reported at Peterson to hop a flight back to DC. Jack had wanted it certain that Maybourne hadn't hung around with any more surprises. Now he could focus on finding Daniel before the guy was officially AWOL.
“Daniel's already got a letter in his file because of the Tollan.” Riding the elevator down into the mountain, Jack heard the warning and slanted a glance at Carter. She had her arms folded and her stare fixed on the numbers as the floors slid past. She was also stating the obvious-you might not be able to courts martial a civilian, but you could fire one for ducking out on the job. Or for one too many black marks in his file.
He knew that. And she knew he knew. But Carter was being her over-efficient self. She was doing the same with her worry.
He could see it dulling her eyes, in the tension locked in her shoulders, which left her looking ready to shatter if you hit the wrong place. Only Carter didn't break. Something else might, however, if they didn't find Daniel.
It had cost Jack to have to go into the mountain, to take the time for this, but he didn't want his team fractured further. He needed them rallied to a common goal, and dragging Daniel back to the real world would do for that. And he couldn't help but be pissed at Daniel for making him go through hoops this late at night-the man had the world's worst timing with everything. Like getting hit with crap like this.
Jack really wanted someone to yell at right now.
Instead, he strode down the hall, Carter trailing at his heels. He didn't bother knocking, just pounded once and opened the door he wanted and stepped into Teal'c's quarters.
Teal'c opened his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. Glancing around, Jack didn't see anyone else in the room. The irrational part of him that had hoped they'd find Daniel here even though Daniel couldn't be here gave up.
Charlie had run away from home once for some dumb thing. He'd hunted after his son with this same mix of useless anger and consuming fear. He'd gone to Charlie's school, knowing Charlie wouldn't be there, but having to cover all bases anyway. Now, he couldn't even remember what Charlie had been so mad about. But the feelings came back, clear and stronger than memory. That sense that if he didn't get a handle on this, it would be too late to fix something he didn't fully understand. And, yeah, Daniel hadn't exactly run from them, but Jack wanted to see the guy's face so he could scope out the full extent of damage.
Teal'c was doing his own scoping.
Face impassive, he sat cross-legged on the floor, watching them. Enough candles burned on every flat surface to make the room a major fire hazard. Jack didn't see the quartermaster giving Teal'c a hard time about anything, however. So he shoved his hands in his pockets and let Carter step forward to take point.
If he had to say anything right this second, he'd end cursing Maybourne and then he'd curse Daniel, and he'd have to start walking, too, and that'd mean maybe knocking some candles around and setting something more than his temper on fire.
Carter's words as she explained things brought Teal'c to his feet as well as up to speed. The guy moved with more grace than a man his size had any right to, and his dark eyes took in more than someone with all that muscle should. Big guys weren't supposed to be subtle and sensitive, but Teal'c liked mocking most things Tau'ri, including their ideas of how things worked.
Thank everything, Carter made it brief. Jack did his damnedest not to pace or give into the growing annoyance at Teal'c for holding it together so well when Jack was ready to fly apart. But Jack took in, with a savage appreciation, the flash of anger in Teal'c's eyes at the mention of Maybourne.
As Carter wrapped it up, Teal'c asked, “This General West commanded the Stargate before General Hammond?”
Carter nodded, and Jack was going for relieved now that West wasn't around. He could do a few things, but getting Teal'c off charges for assaulting a general would not be one of them. “Look, we're getting off topic here. We-”
“We are not,” Teal'c said, glancing Jack's way. “Those responsible should be made aware of the injury caused by their ill-considered actions. Do you not understand all that is implied by what was undertaken?”
Jack shook his head. He did not want this dragged into a philosophical discussion. That could wait for Daniel. “What? Who's been implying what?”
Teal'c glanced from Jack to Carter, his mouth set and the lack of approval radiating off him like frosting mist off a chunk of black ice. “Why did no one approach Daniel Jackson to ask that he withdraw his speech to keep this secret? Why did no one warn him of the danger he faced? He was allowed to walk into a trap. He was led to the destruction of that which he holds to be of great value. He will know this. Why would he not consider this to be the work of his enemy? An enemy whom he must now continue to rely upon.”
“Damnit, Teal'c, we're not his enemy!”
Teal'c tipped his head as if he had to think about that, then he asked, voice flat and dropping deep, “Did you know of this plan, O'Neill?”
Jack threw up his hands. “Oh, geeze. Join the club! Carter asked me the same damn thing. Nice to know you two think so well of me!”
“It will not matter how we think of you. What matters is how well do you know Daniel Jackson? Do you know how to assure him that he is not thought a man who can be easily deceived and manipulated?”
“Oh, for-no one thinks Daniel's easy or stupid.”
“You will show that you believe him to be both if you intend to persuade him this is a matter of little consequence.”
“Oh, my...” Carter turned to Jack, shock wide in her eyes. “Sir, I tried to tell Daniel he shouldn't be bothered by this-that he should just leave it in the past.”
Disgusted with himself and his team, Jack wanted to turn and walk. He shook his head, then glared at Carter. “Like Daniel's ever done that?”
“And he will not do so now. But is not one of your sayings that actions speak with greater volume than any vocabulary?”
Jack glanced at Teal'c and knew he was being distracted. “That's louder. And it's words.”
“Yes, and you may be loud. But actions are now critical, O'Neill.”
“Yeah, well, first action is finding Daniel. We can't do anything until that's done.”
Arms folded, Carter turned to give him full force, non-verbal criticism. “Sir, short of a sweep of the mountain with dogs and teams, we're not likely to find anything. His car's still in the parking lot-I checked-so he's on foot.”
“Waiting is not a good option right now, Carter.”
“It's the only one we seem to have, sir.”
Jack shook his head. Damnation. Waiting gave Daniel time to take this all the wrong ways. Waiting gave Daniel the space to put up walls so thick and high that getting through would not be an option. But Carter was right. They didn't seem to have much in the way of other things to do. Except maybe try not to hunt Maybourne down for surfacing that file; and then getting enough control not to pound Daniel when he finally showed up again for reading the damn thing.
#
Daniel watched dawn lighten the sky, watched stars fade, watched the eastern horizon lighten, watched the sun lift in a pink glow, without the red-orange heat of Abydos. Cold had numbed his skin, chapped his lips, left his joints stiff. He didn't care.
He had stayed up nights on Abydos, sat with Sha're once at the base of Ra's pyramid to see the sun rise behind it, and the longing hit just under his ribs at the rush of bittersweet memory. He thought about leaving then. He could drive into town for coffee-he could do with the comfort of a soft seat and warmth. But he couldn't bring himself to seek out anything, since it would only bring him closer to the inevitable.
By now Sam would have told Jack everything. Jack would, in turn, tell the general. They'd be looking for him. In another few hours, he was due back in his office, and if he didn't show, they'd start a hunt, and he didn't want that much trouble.
He never did-he just ended with it.
Sore from sitting for too long on unyielding ground, aching even more inside, he got to his feet and stood for a moment. He stamped his feet to start his blood moving. Then he started walking again, aimless and unthinking.
He walked until the sun warmed his face and he had to take off his coat. He walked until he was thirsty and dust mixed with the scent of pine needles. He walked until the ground sharpened and the trees thinned and he'd have to climb to go any higher, and since he was in shoes and civilian clothes, he stopped.
He turned around then.
The world lay spread at his feet-a vista of roads and open land and buildings left tiny and people getting on with their lives. The altitude left him dizzy as the sweat dried on his back where his shirt stuck to his skin. Parting his lips, he tasted crisp air and he closed his eyes; if he could stay here, he could survive. But that wasn't an option.
The hike had left him tired-not exhausted, but drained of emotion. He was glad enough to lean against rock and have it solid against his back. And he thought about how, if you couldn't stay in one place, then you moved forward; and if you couldn't move forward, you went some other direction. He'd learned that years ago.
He was a nomad at heart, or at least by birth and early training. His parents had never even owned a house, and after they'd died he couldn't remember any place seeming like home. Abydos, too, seemed more illusion now than reality. A fading dream. And all he could think was that-after he'd lost everything-he had let need override his better judgment.
This really was his fault.
He had read more into military structure than existed; they had him, couldn't exactly cut him loose because of their secrets. And so he'd taken their willingness to exploit him as something more. He had put on their uniform and believed that made him one of them. But that wasn't the case.
In truth, they hadn't pretended to be anything other than what they were. He had, however.
He was the one who had thought he was creating a place for himself and building friendships. He had needed it so badly, he hadn't looked for flaws in his thinking. And the trouble was, he'd based everything on a faulty premise.
He'd thought there was at least mutual respect.
He'd also made assumptions as to his value. Wrong ones it seemed. Now that he had better information, he wouldn't make those mistakes again. He could handle this.
But, god, did it hurt.
Well, what didn't?
Pushing himself forward, he headed down the mountain, his shoes slipping on sandy dirt. Oh, hell, he'd have to get back into boots and BDUs at some point, and repugnance crawled over his skin at the idea.
At least he had one solid conclusion now-the only real difference about anything today was that he knew the truth. Nothing else had changed. The military would go on doing whatever they wanted-they always did. His job was to keep doing what he had to.
He'd build stronger defenses. He didn't need to give them any additional leverage over him. He would stop acting as if this was anything more than an exchange of his time for their money. He'd get some distance from the people around him-he needed it-and that would give him a clearer perspective; they were stuck with him, but they didn't have to like it. Or him. Neither did he. He wouldn't forget that again. And he'd revise his supposition, too, about how he shared anything with these people.
That file made it very clear what they valued and it wasn't his work or anything to do with his field. It wasn't even anything to do with the truth. They wanted him to provide intelligence that could be gleaned from historical records and translations, and he could do that. He could give them what they needed, even if he didn't have a clue what he'd do for the things he needed. But he could do his damn job. Jaw set, eyes narrowing in the bright light of day, he nodded to himself.
He knew how to cope. He knew how to get by. He'd put his head down and get on with the task of finding Sha're and Skaara. Then he could get them all back to Abydos where they really did belong.
#
Standing by the elevator, Jack checked his watch. He'd gotten four hours in a bed, hadn't slept for most of them. He'd grabbed a breakfast that sat in his stomach, fueling him like a lead acid battery. He'd kept his temper on simmer for so long that he'd started to think it might be better if Daniel stayed missing for the rest of the day.
They'd gone over the area around the main gate, but Teal'c hadn't picked up Daniel's trail. And they couldn't start a search of the entire mountain top without letting the general know one of his civilians was missing. So Jack checked his watch again and timed the walk.
Ten minutes from the main gate to park-he'd had the guards call him as soon as Hammond's car showed. Two minutes to pass the first checkpoint, get to the NORAD elevators. Another five for the second checkpoint at the SGC elevators, arrive here at-yep...the elevator pinged and Hammond stepped out.
Hammond might have stars on his shoulders, but he still did the final sign-in like everyone else. Papers in hand, Jack waited, then Hammond turned and offered a look that had Jack wondering if he shouldn't have put more starch in his BDUs. Or maybe should have had coffee in hand for the general.
With a nod for Jack to follow, Hammond started walking, “You're in early, Colonel.”
“Actually, more like late, sir.”
Hammond gave him another glance, this one sharper. But Hammond's staff sergeant came up, interrupting with the general's schedule-meetings and calls pending. Hammond held up a hand to stop the flow. Then he gestured Jack into his office. “You have five minutes, Colonel.”
“Oh, this'll only take two.” He followed Hammond in, closed the door behind him, then dumped the folder on Hammond's desk.
Hammond glanced at the black folder, then at Jack, but Jack kept quiet. He wanted Hammond's attention focused on what mattered most.
“What's this?” Hammond asked. He didn't wait for an answer, just opened the folder and started to read. The back of his neck reddened as if someone had poured hot water on him and he looked up. “How in tarnation did you come by this? I haven't even seen West's files.”
“Carter got it from Daniel who got it from...well, you could call it the horse's mouth, but I'm thinking Maybourne's more the other end.”
“Maybourne?”
“In a nutshell. Or, in this case, bombshell.”
Mouth thinned almost to disappearing, Hammond glanced at the file again. The general wasn't a swearing man, but right now Jack wasn't going to bet on the next words that'd be coming out of Hammond's mouth.
However, Hammond reached over, picked up the phone-not the red one. Jack was sorry for that. He'd have liked whatever Hammond was about to pull down on Maybourne to have come from a very great height. But Hammond put in a call to what sounded like a good ol' boy connection.
While Jack waited and held onto his patience, Hammond shot the breeze, swapped family news, chuckled over a story that Jack didn't hear the other side of. And then Hammond got to it. “Actually, Hal, there's something you could do for me. Seems there's a colonel under your command-Maybourne? Yes, yes, that'd be the man. Seems he may be a tad underutilized there in DC since he's got time enough for side trips to Colorado. No, no, I'm not suggesting reassignment, I know that might put you on the hot seat. But don't you have a few rusty projects you've been looking for someone to finish up? Like that inspection of aircraft in the Aleutians? Yes, that one, too.”
Managing the twist of a smile, Jack listened as Hammond got things rolling, smooth as home brew and about as deadly. Then Hammond hung up and folded his hands and asked the question Jack had been expecting. “Where is Doctor Jackson now?”
With a shrug, Jack went for casual so he could hide the worries that had been playing in his head for the last seven hours. “Seems he's somewhere on the mountain, sir.”
“On?”
“Long story short-his car's here. He's not.”
Shaking his head, Hammond closed the folder.
“Sir, request permission-”
“Denied.”
“General, we-”
“Jack, I can't think how our going after him is going to make him feel any better about anything else that's been done. If he stepped away on his own, then he'll come back when he's ready.”
Mouth tight, Jack didn't like that answer. “And what if he doesn't?”
Hammond glanced at the folder. “Then I'll reconsider your request. For now, stand down, Colonel-let's at least give the man a chance to come to terms with this.” Hammond handed the folder back. “Now go file this where no one is going to see the damn thing again.”
“Yes, sir.” Taking the folder, Jack tapped it on the edge of the desk, then had to get the words out in a rush. “Sir, will you let me handle Daniel when he does show?”
“Jack-?”
“I know, sir. You don't want to lose him.”
“No, I don't. But this isn't about that, is it? A trust has been damaged here, and, frankly, I hate to say it, but I'm not certain Doctor Jackson shouldn't come in here and take us all down for what was done.”
“I wish I knew he'd do just that.”
“Jack?” Hammond's frown went even tighter.
With a shrug, Jack dove in. “Sir, he's had enough time to put two and two together and then divide it by something else and come up with the fact that we're bastards and he has to live with it. And he will. He'll give us the job done. Until he knows here his wife is, and then he'll leave to go get her.” Jack didn’t say the rest of it-if Daniel figured that he didn't have a team to back him, he'd go without telling anyone or taking anyone with him. Meaning Daniel would get himself killed.
Jack pressed his lips tight. There was a sales job to do, and then there was overkill truth that would get Daniel booted before he went his own way. The guy was scary self-sufficient, so there was a strong need to grab a break before that cement dried in Daniel's walls.
“Jack, just what are you advocating?”
“Beats the hell out of me.” It was the wrong thing to say. Hammond's face flushed red, right up to his shiny, bald roots, and Jack plowed ahead, full throttle now. “Sir, I figure we've got two chances. Daniel mad enough at everyone that it'll leave an opening, or off-balance enough he'll listen. I'm not betting on either showing just 'cause I want it.”
Hammond shook his head. “I have a feeling I don't want to know what you have in mind.”
“No, sir. But I swear, Daniel's resignation from SG-1 will not land on your desk.” And if he had to tie the man's hands and sit on him to keep that from happening, he would.
Hammond nodded. The frown eased, but something hard glinted in his eyes as if he had a suspicion about what Jack was thinking and didn't like it much. However, he only said, voice slow and deep, “If it does, Colonel, I expect yours to follow.”
Jack offered a weak smile and got himself dismissed.
And he made a promise to himself that if Daniel wasn't back within the hour, he'd be back in Hammond's face asking again for permission and a team to go get the man anyway.
#
No one stopped him at the main gate, but he did get some looks. He assumed they were for the rumpled clothes, the stubble on his face, the sweat and dust. It had to be well past noon, too, which meant he was hours late to work. And not many people walked through the main gate. But Daniel did, and he did his damnedest to meet the flat-eyed stares from the guards. At the second checkpoint, he flashed his ID. As he reached for the sign-in sheet, two guards step up to him. He recognized the looks on their faces-the blank ones that meant he was in deeper trouble than he'd expected.
“Doctor Jackson, you'll come with us, please.”
Ah, not a question. He almost stepped back. He wanted to turn and start walking-fast. That would get him about three feet, he estimated. The guards both had a few inches on him, and more muscle, so he put down the clipboard, pushed his hands into trouser pockets and went with them. They settled one in front, one behind. And they took him through the checkpoints with only nods to the other guards, which meant they'd all been waiting for him.
He expected to be taken to the general's office-he was braced for that. He wasn't ready to glance up and see a detention cell, and he balked, instinctive reluctance jangling at stepping into a small room with no windows and only the one door out. And a lock.
Turning, hands coming out, he started a protest, but the word dried as the guards' hands shifted to their holsters with an automatic response. Since he didn't want guns pointed at him, he put up his palms and backed into the room. The door shut on him, as expected.
Pulse a little too quick, he stared at it, then yelled, “Hey, can I at least get some coffee?”
No one answered.
He thought about kicking the metal door, but that would just leave his toes hurting. Glancing up at the security camera, he also thought about offering a rude gesture, but decided not to give Jack the satisfaction. And, of course, this had to have been done on Jack's orders.
Was Jack pissed at him for being late to work? For disappearing for a few hours? Or maybe for having read that file?
With a shiver, he hunched his shoulders, then put his stare on the floor. God, what if he'd seen something Jack didn't want him to know about, and now...? He ran out of thoughts there because he didn't want to follow them anywhere.
Turning, he paced the room, paced back. He considered sinking down on the bunk and falling asleep, but he didn't like the idea of leaving himself that vulnerable. So he folded his arms and leaned against a wall and let himself get tangled in everything spinning through his head.
#
Jack beat a punching bag into submission, which left his hands sore and his temper still on a slow boil. He'd just finished changing when the Airman found him in the locker room with news that Daniel had shown up. 'Bout damn time. A freezing shower had not chilled anything, but Jack hoped it was enough to make this little face-to-face he was going to have with Daniel go over without too much yelling.
Then Carter caught him in the corridor outside where Daniel was cooling his heels. “Sir!”
He glanced at her. He didn't want to take the time for this, but knew he'd better. She had that black folder in her hands, and he glanced at it, then put his hands in his pockets.
“Thought I told you to put that near where your next experiment's going to blow up?”
“Sir, I had an idea.” She held out the folder and he looked, but didn't touch it. He wanted to burn those pages, but since he didn't have one of Teal'c's candles handy, he gave in. Taking it, he flipped through the pages, and his eyebrows lifted at what she'd added. A headache started just at the thought of how many favors she must have called in from Washington to pull this off.
Looking up at Carter again, he took in her bright-eyed stare. Her eyes had that caffeinated edge; the rest of her had the same going in the constant shifting of her weight from boot to boot. If she'd slept for even ten minutes last night, he'd be shocked.
“Early bird, catching worms, hun?” he asked.
She shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was plain she was trying to make up for yesterday by slipping over to Daniel's side. She was still angling to be the scientist as well as the best officer, and someday he'd find a way to ease up this belligerent need she had to prove herself in everything. For now, he had other worries.
Handling back the folder, he told her, “Hang onto it for back-up, Carter.”
She glanced over his shoulder at the holding cell, which meant she knew Daniel was here, too. “Sir, don't you think...?”
“What? Should've waited, cornered the guy in his office?”
He made the remark flippant, but it wasn't. He wanted neutral turf and no interruptions, and this was as close as he could get to those things. A small room with only one exit also had the advantage of being a place where he could force Daniel to listen to a few things.
“Sir, isn't this...won't this make it into exactly what we don't want? Daniel's not-”
“Carter, I know what I'm doing.”
At least, he hoped he did.
It'd taken Jack almost a year to get to the point where Daniel almost always brought up his ideas first and tried to hash things out, instead of jumping in the deep end to get things done. No way was he letting Daniel pull back to the guy who never gave a thought to asking for anyone's help. Even if it meant he had to lean hard now to get Daniel to shape up.
Glancing at Carter, Jack willed her to get with the plan.
She seemed to get something because her lips pressed tight and she nodded, but she didn't look happy. Jack turned away and started toward Daniel again. He got the guards dismissed and his hand on the doorknob when Teal'c showed, silent and hovering.
Jack glanced over his shoulder. He got back a lifted eyebrow and that stoic-Jaffa face that pretty much said Jack wasn't talking to Daniel without Teal'c in there. Which wasn't part of anything Jack had in mind.
“Teal'c...” Jack said, and he let his growing impatience out in the word. He wanted this kept to him and Daniel, in case it went worse case and god-awful. But Teal'c just did one of those head nods like it meant he was agreeing.
He wasn't.
Damnit. Jack knew he should have expected this.
Teal'c had always been solid pro. But Teal'c could go soft when it came to Daniel, and always gave Daniel guy way too much credit.
Jack had seen that flicker of surprise day one in Teal'c when Daniel had offered himself up to get a snake put in his head so he could stay with Sha're. Folks just didn't do that in Teal'c's book. And there'd been worse boners since. But Teal'c knew Daniel wasn't stupid or insane, so he must figure the guy had brass balls and then some. Teal'c didn't get that on every one of those occasions, Daniel had not been weighing the odds and taking the gutsy move. Jack just knew that. Just like he knew, too, that Teal'c too often gave Daniel the muscle to back-up Daniel's plans, no matter how insane they were.
Jack didn't want that happening here. So he locked stares with Teal'c and waited for the guy to get the idea he wasn't welcome to this clam bake. Then he heard boots behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Carter heading over, and now he had both of them at his back.
Short of ordering them to leave-asnd putting himself in a spot where he might have the rest of his team tuning him out-Jack knew he was stuck.
Oh, he so did not want to do this.
Not with these two along, so it really might seem like all of them were ready to beat the emotional hell out of Daniel.
He wanted Daniel angry and fighting, or roadkill enough he could be pushed into things. He did not want the guy to look up and see an army facing him, and figure he really had got the short end of the stick. Crap, there had to be a better way to do this.
Time for Plan C, maybe.
Shifting gears, Jack started figuring on how he could use Teal'c and Carter to soften up Daniel a little. Maybe Carter could crank up the big eyes, and if Teal'c did that silent solidarity thing, they could guilt the guy into caving.
So Jack pulled open the door, and he saw Plan C was dead before it'd even gotten out of its hatching shell. As in they didn't have an angry Daniel to confront, or even one who looked mugged half to death by his own thoughts. No, they had a stone-face staring at them, jaw set and eyes iced over to freezing.
Lucky them, they all were going to get to play with Daniel the great non-communicator.
#
When he heard steps outside his door, Daniel glanced up but didn't straighten. Jack came in, then Teal'c, then Sam. All three of them. Big surprise there.
Staying where he was, arms folded, one shoulder against one wall and his back against another, he stared at them. Would this be fast? He hoped so.
He had the image in his head of his office stripped to austere; he needed reminders that bare walls and a few boxes could be quickly packed. He needed to get back to temporary visitor status. Which meant he needed ties cut sharp and quick. But even if this went fast, it wasn't going to be easy. Looking from one expectant face to the next, he knew that.
Teal'c put himself to the left, hands behind his back, halfway between everyone. The look in his eyes carried too much sympathy. That had Daniel looking away fast.
His gaze settled on Sam next. She had that black folder-or a black folder-in her hands. Fatigue had put lines around her eyes and concern put something else deeper. Daniel wanted to be sorry for that, but he couldn't afford those feelings, so he looked away from her as well.
That left him with Jack.
The man stepped forward, had his hands in his pockets and nothing on his face, but the dark eyes snapped with temper.
Since Daniel had learned from Jack about good offensives, he pushed away from the wall and let his arms fall to his sides. “This going to take long? I have work.”
“Nice of you to remember that.”
He heard the baiting edge in Jack's tone, but he didn't want to fall back into habits with any of them. And he didn't want to justify his actions, because he'd get long-suffering explanations about the importance of secrecy. They'd remind him he was part of this, so neck-deep he could never get out. But he'd find a way.
So he met Jack's stare, and stared back.
At the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw Sam move. She voiced his name, soft and imploring.
He stepped back as she started to reach out. He made the movement over into one of putting a hand up to rub the back of his neck as he turned and stepped toward the double bunk at the back of the room. Then he glanced back. And now he hated the barriers he had to put up as her eyes registered hurt, then her expression shuttered and her arm dropped.
But she'd made her choice years ago, had chosen military over science and would make that choice every time. That was where her allegiance lay. Not his.
Putting his hands in his pockets, he mirrored Jack's casual stance. He wished they were done with him.
“Daniel Jackson?” The question in Teal'c's voice drew him, and he had to meet the stare fixed on him because Teal'c deserved acknowledgement. Daniel knew what was being asked: Are you well, do you wish my help, will you allow me to stay your friend?
No and no and no. This isn't your battle.
He couldn't drag Teal'c into this, even if the man was willing. So he looked away without answering, let that be his answer. He heard Teal'c shift and move closer to where Sam stood. Good. Teal'c could offer her comfort, or she could give him some, but they could all just get the hell away from him.
Jack was next on the list, and he didn't disappoint, but his words did surprise. “Okay, you want it that way. Fine. You two, out. I need to talk to Daniel.”
Braced now, Daniel looked up, glancing at Teal'c and then at Sam. He took in their expressions of pity, and he hated that was what they were offering him. He didn't need that, and he knew he was also going to get lots more of Jack's foul temper.
He put up his chin. “I have nothing to say.”
“Good, because you won't be doing the talking.” Jack glanced at the others, seemed to make up his mind about something; his expression hardened. He jerked his head to the doorway.
For an instant, resentment at the order flashed in Teal'c's eyes and his mouth pulled deep. But then he gave another glance at Daniel-one Daniel couldn't read. Understanding maybe? Or tolerance for human folly? With an incline of his head, Teal'c turned to go. Sam glanced at the folder in her hands, pulled an unhappy face, then gave it to Jack. She, too, looked for a moment as if she'd say something, but she only shook her head and left.
Daniel watched them go, his jaw set, the words that could change this stopped tight. He had to make the break so sharp there'd be no mending. With two down, there was just Jack to go. And he knew how to push Jack.
But as soon as the door shut, Jack said, his voice flat, “You want to ask the question?”
Daniel had to blink and restart the conversation-it wasn't matching the one he'd anticipated. “Question?”
Jack tossed the folder on the single, narrow table in the room. He kept his hands loose at his side where a glance would show he didn't have a weapon. But Jack didn't need a gun or a knife to kill. “Carter and Teal'c asked already.”
Daniel turned that over, then caught what had to be the topic. Folding his arms, he went for maximum aggravation. “Ah-that question. What's the point?”
“I'm beginning to think it's on your head.”
Leave it to Jack to go for juvenile sarscasm. Daniel stared at him. He'd caught the glint in Jack's eyes. The man was more than wound tight, so Daniel decided he undercut any good intentions Jack might have and just hit Jack with the exaggerated patience he kept for the willfully obtuse. “If you were there, it indicates you're the type of person who'd agree with that kind of deception through silence. That also means someone who'd lie about it afterwards. Hence-pointless to ask.”
Jack nodded and the glint in his eyes warmed, and Daniel wondered if he should shut up and let Jack struggle for his own answers. He turned away. “Say what you need to and leave.”
“Fine. We ought to pin a medal on Maybourne.”
The words hit like a staff blast, slammed into him. He'd expected badgering. He'd been ready for Jack's sarcasm. He'd thought he'd even been ready to hear the worst-that Jack had known about everything.
He'd been more than wrong. Again.
Blinking, Daniel looked at the man and tried to see below the smug expression and the twist to Jack's mouth. Hurt fired because Jack had the ease of someone who'd meant every word he'd just said.
Oh, hell-well, he'd wanted distance from everyone, knew he needed it to protect himself. Now it seemed as if he was going to get it in spades.
Jack gestured to the folder and said, “Before you make up your mind about everything, take a look. Carter's added some stuff.”
Glancing at the folder, Daniel thought about refusing. He'd rather pick up a larval Goa'uld. But he stepped forward and thumbed the file open. Then he looked up. “My presentation? This is from the proceedings?”
“It's also part of the official records now. Carter saw to that.”
Head dropping, Daniel pulled in a short breath and tried to hang onto the last of his temper. “And that helps? Burying the information deeper is supposed to make this okay?”
“This program goes public, so does that. Your ideas, Daniel. Everyone will hear about them someday.”
With a harsh laugh, Daniel paced to his corner again, waved a hand, even though it was useless. Then he turned. “God, Jack-so what! It gets to be a footnote in fifty years? Eighty? That's a help to anyone how?”
“Oh, sorry you're not happy with less than perfection, Doctor Jackson. Just because Carter though you might actually like to get credit for-”
“Credit? You think that's what this is? I'm sulking because Maybourne-”
“Maybourne did squat, and we both know it! He had someone light a match. So what? Daniel, you set the groundwork. You must have slapped down most of the people you ever met. Just like you did your first day here-wiped out years of sweat in two minutes, trashed every other geek's translation with chalk and a blackboard.”
“They were wrong.” Daniel stiffened, told himself to shut up and stop sounding like a defensive first-year grad student.
“Yeah, and you pounded that home like a bag of hammers. All with a smile. How many others you do that to? Hell, you must have filled that hall with people just dying to see you flame out. So how much d'you figure Maybourne-or whoever he sent-really had to do, considering you were trailing jet fuel for that match of his?”
Not trusting himself, Daniel kept his jaw tight and his stare on the tips of Jack's boots. God, he really didn't want this. But, damnit, Jack had a point. Maybourne probably hadn't needed to do much of anything-but he had anyway. And Jack didn't get it. Eyes narrowing, he glanced up again. Jack should get it. “I know the obvious often escapes you, but what actually matters are the implications and attitudes behind the actions.”
“Oh, really?”
“God, yes, really! You think what matters most is that I was made to look a fool? That's nothing new-my theories, my papers, had been putting me on the radical edge for years. But what I had to offer...it wasn't some Von Daniken best-selling nonsense. I had data-information others should have been able to use and build on. Research was invalidated-good research. Truth was turned into lies. And now I'm supposed to be happy with being further attached to that? As if I was complicit? Well, you can just go to hell with that.”
Jack's anger flared-Daniel saw it fire in the man's narrowing eyes. He forced himself to stay still and not step back, but he knew that his words had managed to break something. He fought the sudden urge to apologize. Biting down on the inside of his lower lip, he looked away. Then he heard Jack's boots.
Glancing up, he saw Jack stop at the door. Jack had turned his back, and Daniel could see the tension in the other man's neck and shoulders. Jack looked inches away from a shouting match that would lead them both into saying unforgivable things.
But then Jack turned to face him and Daniel knew they were going to say things they shouldn't anyway. “You want this to be a perfect world? News flash, Daniel-not going to happen. Not here-or anywhere.”
“So we should all stop trying to improve anything? Is that what you want from me? Accept that a few mouthed platitudes will make this okay?”
“I'm not trying-”
“Yes, you are. You want me to shut up about this and pretend it didn't happen. Well, that's not going to happen, either. I don't want explanations. Or excuses. In fact, there's nothing I really want from you, or the military, right now.”
The pulse beat hard in Jack's jaw. He stared at Daniel for a long minute, then said, his voice flattened, “Nothing hun? Then you damn well can take three days of it. Consider yourself on suspension.”
Mouth falling open, Daniel stared at the other man, and his own frustration kindled hot. “Me? For-? And I suppose Maybourne gets that medal after all!”
“You may have security clearance, Daniel, but that doesn't mean authorization to access any file you like. And Hammond left you to me to deal with. But, I'll tell you again-anything at that conference that got us you, we ought to put a medal on Maybourne for it. Now you have to figure out if it was worth it for what you got.”
Frowning, Daniel shook his head and blinked. He was too tired to pull apart Jack's sentences to fit them into any kind of logic, and he didn't want to anyway. He wanted that shouting match suddenly-to yell and lash out.
Jack only smiled, his lips curving, but his eyes still held that harsh, dark fire. “You got Sha're, Daniel. That worth it?”
Head jerking back, Daniel tried to catch a breath, but found he couldn't. He had to lean on something, so he groped with a hand and found the bunk railing. It kept him on his feet, and Jack should have just shot him. It would have been kinder.
Sha're for his career?
The thought sank deep, burrowing like a damn symbiote. God, was there a balance in the universe and he couldn't have both-he had to pay a price for each? But he didn't believe that, did not want a connection made between events that had nothing in common. Catherine could have approached him without the military stepping in to ensure his failure. Couldn't she?
But what if it was connected? What if it had been a choice? One he hadn't even been aware of making?
No-that wasn't true.
Turning, he stared at barren walls. He'd been stunned before. Now he swayed, every defense he'd managed to pull together shattered, thoughts reeling and spinning, his emotions in turmoil. He sank down on the bunk. Then he looked up.
Jack was already gone.
He was alone with the door open and Jack's words still echoing in him.
#
Go to Part 3
“Daniel's already got a letter in his file because of the Tollan.” Riding the elevator down into the mountain, Jack heard the warning and slanted a glance at Carter. She had her arms folded and her stare fixed on the numbers as the floors slid past. She was also stating the obvious-you might not be able to courts martial a civilian, but you could fire one for ducking out on the job. Or for one too many black marks in his file.
He knew that. And she knew he knew. But Carter was being her over-efficient self. She was doing the same with her worry.
He could see it dulling her eyes, in the tension locked in her shoulders, which left her looking ready to shatter if you hit the wrong place. Only Carter didn't break. Something else might, however, if they didn't find Daniel.
It had cost Jack to have to go into the mountain, to take the time for this, but he didn't want his team fractured further. He needed them rallied to a common goal, and dragging Daniel back to the real world would do for that. And he couldn't help but be pissed at Daniel for making him go through hoops this late at night-the man had the world's worst timing with everything. Like getting hit with crap like this.
Jack really wanted someone to yell at right now.
Instead, he strode down the hall, Carter trailing at his heels. He didn't bother knocking, just pounded once and opened the door he wanted and stepped into Teal'c's quarters.
Teal'c opened his eyes and lifted an eyebrow. Glancing around, Jack didn't see anyone else in the room. The irrational part of him that had hoped they'd find Daniel here even though Daniel couldn't be here gave up.
Charlie had run away from home once for some dumb thing. He'd hunted after his son with this same mix of useless anger and consuming fear. He'd gone to Charlie's school, knowing Charlie wouldn't be there, but having to cover all bases anyway. Now, he couldn't even remember what Charlie had been so mad about. But the feelings came back, clear and stronger than memory. That sense that if he didn't get a handle on this, it would be too late to fix something he didn't fully understand. And, yeah, Daniel hadn't exactly run from them, but Jack wanted to see the guy's face so he could scope out the full extent of damage.
Teal'c was doing his own scoping.
Face impassive, he sat cross-legged on the floor, watching them. Enough candles burned on every flat surface to make the room a major fire hazard. Jack didn't see the quartermaster giving Teal'c a hard time about anything, however. So he shoved his hands in his pockets and let Carter step forward to take point.
If he had to say anything right this second, he'd end cursing Maybourne and then he'd curse Daniel, and he'd have to start walking, too, and that'd mean maybe knocking some candles around and setting something more than his temper on fire.
Carter's words as she explained things brought Teal'c to his feet as well as up to speed. The guy moved with more grace than a man his size had any right to, and his dark eyes took in more than someone with all that muscle should. Big guys weren't supposed to be subtle and sensitive, but Teal'c liked mocking most things Tau'ri, including their ideas of how things worked.
Thank everything, Carter made it brief. Jack did his damnedest not to pace or give into the growing annoyance at Teal'c for holding it together so well when Jack was ready to fly apart. But Jack took in, with a savage appreciation, the flash of anger in Teal'c's eyes at the mention of Maybourne.
As Carter wrapped it up, Teal'c asked, “This General West commanded the Stargate before General Hammond?”
Carter nodded, and Jack was going for relieved now that West wasn't around. He could do a few things, but getting Teal'c off charges for assaulting a general would not be one of them. “Look, we're getting off topic here. We-”
“We are not,” Teal'c said, glancing Jack's way. “Those responsible should be made aware of the injury caused by their ill-considered actions. Do you not understand all that is implied by what was undertaken?”
Jack shook his head. He did not want this dragged into a philosophical discussion. That could wait for Daniel. “What? Who's been implying what?”
Teal'c glanced from Jack to Carter, his mouth set and the lack of approval radiating off him like frosting mist off a chunk of black ice. “Why did no one approach Daniel Jackson to ask that he withdraw his speech to keep this secret? Why did no one warn him of the danger he faced? He was allowed to walk into a trap. He was led to the destruction of that which he holds to be of great value. He will know this. Why would he not consider this to be the work of his enemy? An enemy whom he must now continue to rely upon.”
“Damnit, Teal'c, we're not his enemy!”
Teal'c tipped his head as if he had to think about that, then he asked, voice flat and dropping deep, “Did you know of this plan, O'Neill?”
Jack threw up his hands. “Oh, geeze. Join the club! Carter asked me the same damn thing. Nice to know you two think so well of me!”
“It will not matter how we think of you. What matters is how well do you know Daniel Jackson? Do you know how to assure him that he is not thought a man who can be easily deceived and manipulated?”
“Oh, for-no one thinks Daniel's easy or stupid.”
“You will show that you believe him to be both if you intend to persuade him this is a matter of little consequence.”
“Oh, my...” Carter turned to Jack, shock wide in her eyes. “Sir, I tried to tell Daniel he shouldn't be bothered by this-that he should just leave it in the past.”
Disgusted with himself and his team, Jack wanted to turn and walk. He shook his head, then glared at Carter. “Like Daniel's ever done that?”
“And he will not do so now. But is not one of your sayings that actions speak with greater volume than any vocabulary?”
Jack glanced at Teal'c and knew he was being distracted. “That's louder. And it's words.”
“Yes, and you may be loud. But actions are now critical, O'Neill.”
“Yeah, well, first action is finding Daniel. We can't do anything until that's done.”
Arms folded, Carter turned to give him full force, non-verbal criticism. “Sir, short of a sweep of the mountain with dogs and teams, we're not likely to find anything. His car's still in the parking lot-I checked-so he's on foot.”
“Waiting is not a good option right now, Carter.”
“It's the only one we seem to have, sir.”
Jack shook his head. Damnation. Waiting gave Daniel time to take this all the wrong ways. Waiting gave Daniel the space to put up walls so thick and high that getting through would not be an option. But Carter was right. They didn't seem to have much in the way of other things to do. Except maybe try not to hunt Maybourne down for surfacing that file; and then getting enough control not to pound Daniel when he finally showed up again for reading the damn thing.
#
Daniel watched dawn lighten the sky, watched stars fade, watched the eastern horizon lighten, watched the sun lift in a pink glow, without the red-orange heat of Abydos. Cold had numbed his skin, chapped his lips, left his joints stiff. He didn't care.
He had stayed up nights on Abydos, sat with Sha're once at the base of Ra's pyramid to see the sun rise behind it, and the longing hit just under his ribs at the rush of bittersweet memory. He thought about leaving then. He could drive into town for coffee-he could do with the comfort of a soft seat and warmth. But he couldn't bring himself to seek out anything, since it would only bring him closer to the inevitable.
By now Sam would have told Jack everything. Jack would, in turn, tell the general. They'd be looking for him. In another few hours, he was due back in his office, and if he didn't show, they'd start a hunt, and he didn't want that much trouble.
He never did-he just ended with it.
Sore from sitting for too long on unyielding ground, aching even more inside, he got to his feet and stood for a moment. He stamped his feet to start his blood moving. Then he started walking again, aimless and unthinking.
He walked until the sun warmed his face and he had to take off his coat. He walked until he was thirsty and dust mixed with the scent of pine needles. He walked until the ground sharpened and the trees thinned and he'd have to climb to go any higher, and since he was in shoes and civilian clothes, he stopped.
He turned around then.
The world lay spread at his feet-a vista of roads and open land and buildings left tiny and people getting on with their lives. The altitude left him dizzy as the sweat dried on his back where his shirt stuck to his skin. Parting his lips, he tasted crisp air and he closed his eyes; if he could stay here, he could survive. But that wasn't an option.
The hike had left him tired-not exhausted, but drained of emotion. He was glad enough to lean against rock and have it solid against his back. And he thought about how, if you couldn't stay in one place, then you moved forward; and if you couldn't move forward, you went some other direction. He'd learned that years ago.
He was a nomad at heart, or at least by birth and early training. His parents had never even owned a house, and after they'd died he couldn't remember any place seeming like home. Abydos, too, seemed more illusion now than reality. A fading dream. And all he could think was that-after he'd lost everything-he had let need override his better judgment.
This really was his fault.
He had read more into military structure than existed; they had him, couldn't exactly cut him loose because of their secrets. And so he'd taken their willingness to exploit him as something more. He had put on their uniform and believed that made him one of them. But that wasn't the case.
In truth, they hadn't pretended to be anything other than what they were. He had, however.
He was the one who had thought he was creating a place for himself and building friendships. He had needed it so badly, he hadn't looked for flaws in his thinking. And the trouble was, he'd based everything on a faulty premise.
He'd thought there was at least mutual respect.
He'd also made assumptions as to his value. Wrong ones it seemed. Now that he had better information, he wouldn't make those mistakes again. He could handle this.
But, god, did it hurt.
Well, what didn't?
Pushing himself forward, he headed down the mountain, his shoes slipping on sandy dirt. Oh, hell, he'd have to get back into boots and BDUs at some point, and repugnance crawled over his skin at the idea.
At least he had one solid conclusion now-the only real difference about anything today was that he knew the truth. Nothing else had changed. The military would go on doing whatever they wanted-they always did. His job was to keep doing what he had to.
He'd build stronger defenses. He didn't need to give them any additional leverage over him. He would stop acting as if this was anything more than an exchange of his time for their money. He'd get some distance from the people around him-he needed it-and that would give him a clearer perspective; they were stuck with him, but they didn't have to like it. Or him. Neither did he. He wouldn't forget that again. And he'd revise his supposition, too, about how he shared anything with these people.
That file made it very clear what they valued and it wasn't his work or anything to do with his field. It wasn't even anything to do with the truth. They wanted him to provide intelligence that could be gleaned from historical records and translations, and he could do that. He could give them what they needed, even if he didn't have a clue what he'd do for the things he needed. But he could do his damn job. Jaw set, eyes narrowing in the bright light of day, he nodded to himself.
He knew how to cope. He knew how to get by. He'd put his head down and get on with the task of finding Sha're and Skaara. Then he could get them all back to Abydos where they really did belong.
#
Standing by the elevator, Jack checked his watch. He'd gotten four hours in a bed, hadn't slept for most of them. He'd grabbed a breakfast that sat in his stomach, fueling him like a lead acid battery. He'd kept his temper on simmer for so long that he'd started to think it might be better if Daniel stayed missing for the rest of the day.
They'd gone over the area around the main gate, but Teal'c hadn't picked up Daniel's trail. And they couldn't start a search of the entire mountain top without letting the general know one of his civilians was missing. So Jack checked his watch again and timed the walk.
Ten minutes from the main gate to park-he'd had the guards call him as soon as Hammond's car showed. Two minutes to pass the first checkpoint, get to the NORAD elevators. Another five for the second checkpoint at the SGC elevators, arrive here at-yep...the elevator pinged and Hammond stepped out.
Hammond might have stars on his shoulders, but he still did the final sign-in like everyone else. Papers in hand, Jack waited, then Hammond turned and offered a look that had Jack wondering if he shouldn't have put more starch in his BDUs. Or maybe should have had coffee in hand for the general.
With a nod for Jack to follow, Hammond started walking, “You're in early, Colonel.”
“Actually, more like late, sir.”
Hammond gave him another glance, this one sharper. But Hammond's staff sergeant came up, interrupting with the general's schedule-meetings and calls pending. Hammond held up a hand to stop the flow. Then he gestured Jack into his office. “You have five minutes, Colonel.”
“Oh, this'll only take two.” He followed Hammond in, closed the door behind him, then dumped the folder on Hammond's desk.
Hammond glanced at the black folder, then at Jack, but Jack kept quiet. He wanted Hammond's attention focused on what mattered most.
“What's this?” Hammond asked. He didn't wait for an answer, just opened the folder and started to read. The back of his neck reddened as if someone had poured hot water on him and he looked up. “How in tarnation did you come by this? I haven't even seen West's files.”
“Carter got it from Daniel who got it from...well, you could call it the horse's mouth, but I'm thinking Maybourne's more the other end.”
“Maybourne?”
“In a nutshell. Or, in this case, bombshell.”
Mouth thinned almost to disappearing, Hammond glanced at the file again. The general wasn't a swearing man, but right now Jack wasn't going to bet on the next words that'd be coming out of Hammond's mouth.
However, Hammond reached over, picked up the phone-not the red one. Jack was sorry for that. He'd have liked whatever Hammond was about to pull down on Maybourne to have come from a very great height. But Hammond put in a call to what sounded like a good ol' boy connection.
While Jack waited and held onto his patience, Hammond shot the breeze, swapped family news, chuckled over a story that Jack didn't hear the other side of. And then Hammond got to it. “Actually, Hal, there's something you could do for me. Seems there's a colonel under your command-Maybourne? Yes, yes, that'd be the man. Seems he may be a tad underutilized there in DC since he's got time enough for side trips to Colorado. No, no, I'm not suggesting reassignment, I know that might put you on the hot seat. But don't you have a few rusty projects you've been looking for someone to finish up? Like that inspection of aircraft in the Aleutians? Yes, that one, too.”
Managing the twist of a smile, Jack listened as Hammond got things rolling, smooth as home brew and about as deadly. Then Hammond hung up and folded his hands and asked the question Jack had been expecting. “Where is Doctor Jackson now?”
With a shrug, Jack went for casual so he could hide the worries that had been playing in his head for the last seven hours. “Seems he's somewhere on the mountain, sir.”
“On?”
“Long story short-his car's here. He's not.”
Shaking his head, Hammond closed the folder.
“Sir, request permission-”
“Denied.”
“General, we-”
“Jack, I can't think how our going after him is going to make him feel any better about anything else that's been done. If he stepped away on his own, then he'll come back when he's ready.”
Mouth tight, Jack didn't like that answer. “And what if he doesn't?”
Hammond glanced at the folder. “Then I'll reconsider your request. For now, stand down, Colonel-let's at least give the man a chance to come to terms with this.” Hammond handed the folder back. “Now go file this where no one is going to see the damn thing again.”
“Yes, sir.” Taking the folder, Jack tapped it on the edge of the desk, then had to get the words out in a rush. “Sir, will you let me handle Daniel when he does show?”
“Jack-?”
“I know, sir. You don't want to lose him.”
“No, I don't. But this isn't about that, is it? A trust has been damaged here, and, frankly, I hate to say it, but I'm not certain Doctor Jackson shouldn't come in here and take us all down for what was done.”
“I wish I knew he'd do just that.”
“Jack?” Hammond's frown went even tighter.
With a shrug, Jack dove in. “Sir, he's had enough time to put two and two together and then divide it by something else and come up with the fact that we're bastards and he has to live with it. And he will. He'll give us the job done. Until he knows here his wife is, and then he'll leave to go get her.” Jack didn’t say the rest of it-if Daniel figured that he didn't have a team to back him, he'd go without telling anyone or taking anyone with him. Meaning Daniel would get himself killed.
Jack pressed his lips tight. There was a sales job to do, and then there was overkill truth that would get Daniel booted before he went his own way. The guy was scary self-sufficient, so there was a strong need to grab a break before that cement dried in Daniel's walls.
“Jack, just what are you advocating?”
“Beats the hell out of me.” It was the wrong thing to say. Hammond's face flushed red, right up to his shiny, bald roots, and Jack plowed ahead, full throttle now. “Sir, I figure we've got two chances. Daniel mad enough at everyone that it'll leave an opening, or off-balance enough he'll listen. I'm not betting on either showing just 'cause I want it.”
Hammond shook his head. “I have a feeling I don't want to know what you have in mind.”
“No, sir. But I swear, Daniel's resignation from SG-1 will not land on your desk.” And if he had to tie the man's hands and sit on him to keep that from happening, he would.
Hammond nodded. The frown eased, but something hard glinted in his eyes as if he had a suspicion about what Jack was thinking and didn't like it much. However, he only said, voice slow and deep, “If it does, Colonel, I expect yours to follow.”
Jack offered a weak smile and got himself dismissed.
And he made a promise to himself that if Daniel wasn't back within the hour, he'd be back in Hammond's face asking again for permission and a team to go get the man anyway.
#
No one stopped him at the main gate, but he did get some looks. He assumed they were for the rumpled clothes, the stubble on his face, the sweat and dust. It had to be well past noon, too, which meant he was hours late to work. And not many people walked through the main gate. But Daniel did, and he did his damnedest to meet the flat-eyed stares from the guards. At the second checkpoint, he flashed his ID. As he reached for the sign-in sheet, two guards step up to him. He recognized the looks on their faces-the blank ones that meant he was in deeper trouble than he'd expected.
“Doctor Jackson, you'll come with us, please.”
Ah, not a question. He almost stepped back. He wanted to turn and start walking-fast. That would get him about three feet, he estimated. The guards both had a few inches on him, and more muscle, so he put down the clipboard, pushed his hands into trouser pockets and went with them. They settled one in front, one behind. And they took him through the checkpoints with only nods to the other guards, which meant they'd all been waiting for him.
He expected to be taken to the general's office-he was braced for that. He wasn't ready to glance up and see a detention cell, and he balked, instinctive reluctance jangling at stepping into a small room with no windows and only the one door out. And a lock.
Turning, hands coming out, he started a protest, but the word dried as the guards' hands shifted to their holsters with an automatic response. Since he didn't want guns pointed at him, he put up his palms and backed into the room. The door shut on him, as expected.
Pulse a little too quick, he stared at it, then yelled, “Hey, can I at least get some coffee?”
No one answered.
He thought about kicking the metal door, but that would just leave his toes hurting. Glancing up at the security camera, he also thought about offering a rude gesture, but decided not to give Jack the satisfaction. And, of course, this had to have been done on Jack's orders.
Was Jack pissed at him for being late to work? For disappearing for a few hours? Or maybe for having read that file?
With a shiver, he hunched his shoulders, then put his stare on the floor. God, what if he'd seen something Jack didn't want him to know about, and now...? He ran out of thoughts there because he didn't want to follow them anywhere.
Turning, he paced the room, paced back. He considered sinking down on the bunk and falling asleep, but he didn't like the idea of leaving himself that vulnerable. So he folded his arms and leaned against a wall and let himself get tangled in everything spinning through his head.
#
Jack beat a punching bag into submission, which left his hands sore and his temper still on a slow boil. He'd just finished changing when the Airman found him in the locker room with news that Daniel had shown up. 'Bout damn time. A freezing shower had not chilled anything, but Jack hoped it was enough to make this little face-to-face he was going to have with Daniel go over without too much yelling.
Then Carter caught him in the corridor outside where Daniel was cooling his heels. “Sir!”
He glanced at her. He didn't want to take the time for this, but knew he'd better. She had that black folder in her hands, and he glanced at it, then put his hands in his pockets.
“Thought I told you to put that near where your next experiment's going to blow up?”
“Sir, I had an idea.” She held out the folder and he looked, but didn't touch it. He wanted to burn those pages, but since he didn't have one of Teal'c's candles handy, he gave in. Taking it, he flipped through the pages, and his eyebrows lifted at what she'd added. A headache started just at the thought of how many favors she must have called in from Washington to pull this off.
Looking up at Carter again, he took in her bright-eyed stare. Her eyes had that caffeinated edge; the rest of her had the same going in the constant shifting of her weight from boot to boot. If she'd slept for even ten minutes last night, he'd be shocked.
“Early bird, catching worms, hun?” he asked.
She shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was plain she was trying to make up for yesterday by slipping over to Daniel's side. She was still angling to be the scientist as well as the best officer, and someday he'd find a way to ease up this belligerent need she had to prove herself in everything. For now, he had other worries.
Handling back the folder, he told her, “Hang onto it for back-up, Carter.”
She glanced over his shoulder at the holding cell, which meant she knew Daniel was here, too. “Sir, don't you think...?”
“What? Should've waited, cornered the guy in his office?”
He made the remark flippant, but it wasn't. He wanted neutral turf and no interruptions, and this was as close as he could get to those things. A small room with only one exit also had the advantage of being a place where he could force Daniel to listen to a few things.
“Sir, isn't this...won't this make it into exactly what we don't want? Daniel's not-”
“Carter, I know what I'm doing.”
At least, he hoped he did.
It'd taken Jack almost a year to get to the point where Daniel almost always brought up his ideas first and tried to hash things out, instead of jumping in the deep end to get things done. No way was he letting Daniel pull back to the guy who never gave a thought to asking for anyone's help. Even if it meant he had to lean hard now to get Daniel to shape up.
Glancing at Carter, Jack willed her to get with the plan.
She seemed to get something because her lips pressed tight and she nodded, but she didn't look happy. Jack turned away and started toward Daniel again. He got the guards dismissed and his hand on the doorknob when Teal'c showed, silent and hovering.
Jack glanced over his shoulder. He got back a lifted eyebrow and that stoic-Jaffa face that pretty much said Jack wasn't talking to Daniel without Teal'c in there. Which wasn't part of anything Jack had in mind.
“Teal'c...” Jack said, and he let his growing impatience out in the word. He wanted this kept to him and Daniel, in case it went worse case and god-awful. But Teal'c just did one of those head nods like it meant he was agreeing.
He wasn't.
Damnit. Jack knew he should have expected this.
Teal'c had always been solid pro. But Teal'c could go soft when it came to Daniel, and always gave Daniel guy way too much credit.
Jack had seen that flicker of surprise day one in Teal'c when Daniel had offered himself up to get a snake put in his head so he could stay with Sha're. Folks just didn't do that in Teal'c's book. And there'd been worse boners since. But Teal'c knew Daniel wasn't stupid or insane, so he must figure the guy had brass balls and then some. Teal'c didn't get that on every one of those occasions, Daniel had not been weighing the odds and taking the gutsy move. Jack just knew that. Just like he knew, too, that Teal'c too often gave Daniel the muscle to back-up Daniel's plans, no matter how insane they were.
Jack didn't want that happening here. So he locked stares with Teal'c and waited for the guy to get the idea he wasn't welcome to this clam bake. Then he heard boots behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Carter heading over, and now he had both of them at his back.
Short of ordering them to leave-asnd putting himself in a spot where he might have the rest of his team tuning him out-Jack knew he was stuck.
Oh, he so did not want to do this.
Not with these two along, so it really might seem like all of them were ready to beat the emotional hell out of Daniel.
He wanted Daniel angry and fighting, or roadkill enough he could be pushed into things. He did not want the guy to look up and see an army facing him, and figure he really had got the short end of the stick. Crap, there had to be a better way to do this.
Time for Plan C, maybe.
Shifting gears, Jack started figuring on how he could use Teal'c and Carter to soften up Daniel a little. Maybe Carter could crank up the big eyes, and if Teal'c did that silent solidarity thing, they could guilt the guy into caving.
So Jack pulled open the door, and he saw Plan C was dead before it'd even gotten out of its hatching shell. As in they didn't have an angry Daniel to confront, or even one who looked mugged half to death by his own thoughts. No, they had a stone-face staring at them, jaw set and eyes iced over to freezing.
Lucky them, they all were going to get to play with Daniel the great non-communicator.
#
When he heard steps outside his door, Daniel glanced up but didn't straighten. Jack came in, then Teal'c, then Sam. All three of them. Big surprise there.
Staying where he was, arms folded, one shoulder against one wall and his back against another, he stared at them. Would this be fast? He hoped so.
He had the image in his head of his office stripped to austere; he needed reminders that bare walls and a few boxes could be quickly packed. He needed to get back to temporary visitor status. Which meant he needed ties cut sharp and quick. But even if this went fast, it wasn't going to be easy. Looking from one expectant face to the next, he knew that.
Teal'c put himself to the left, hands behind his back, halfway between everyone. The look in his eyes carried too much sympathy. That had Daniel looking away fast.
His gaze settled on Sam next. She had that black folder-or a black folder-in her hands. Fatigue had put lines around her eyes and concern put something else deeper. Daniel wanted to be sorry for that, but he couldn't afford those feelings, so he looked away from her as well.
That left him with Jack.
The man stepped forward, had his hands in his pockets and nothing on his face, but the dark eyes snapped with temper.
Since Daniel had learned from Jack about good offensives, he pushed away from the wall and let his arms fall to his sides. “This going to take long? I have work.”
“Nice of you to remember that.”
He heard the baiting edge in Jack's tone, but he didn't want to fall back into habits with any of them. And he didn't want to justify his actions, because he'd get long-suffering explanations about the importance of secrecy. They'd remind him he was part of this, so neck-deep he could never get out. But he'd find a way.
So he met Jack's stare, and stared back.
At the edge of his peripheral vision, he saw Sam move. She voiced his name, soft and imploring.
He stepped back as she started to reach out. He made the movement over into one of putting a hand up to rub the back of his neck as he turned and stepped toward the double bunk at the back of the room. Then he glanced back. And now he hated the barriers he had to put up as her eyes registered hurt, then her expression shuttered and her arm dropped.
But she'd made her choice years ago, had chosen military over science and would make that choice every time. That was where her allegiance lay. Not his.
Putting his hands in his pockets, he mirrored Jack's casual stance. He wished they were done with him.
“Daniel Jackson?” The question in Teal'c's voice drew him, and he had to meet the stare fixed on him because Teal'c deserved acknowledgement. Daniel knew what was being asked: Are you well, do you wish my help, will you allow me to stay your friend?
No and no and no. This isn't your battle.
He couldn't drag Teal'c into this, even if the man was willing. So he looked away without answering, let that be his answer. He heard Teal'c shift and move closer to where Sam stood. Good. Teal'c could offer her comfort, or she could give him some, but they could all just get the hell away from him.
Jack was next on the list, and he didn't disappoint, but his words did surprise. “Okay, you want it that way. Fine. You two, out. I need to talk to Daniel.”
Braced now, Daniel looked up, glancing at Teal'c and then at Sam. He took in their expressions of pity, and he hated that was what they were offering him. He didn't need that, and he knew he was also going to get lots more of Jack's foul temper.
He put up his chin. “I have nothing to say.”
“Good, because you won't be doing the talking.” Jack glanced at the others, seemed to make up his mind about something; his expression hardened. He jerked his head to the doorway.
For an instant, resentment at the order flashed in Teal'c's eyes and his mouth pulled deep. But then he gave another glance at Daniel-one Daniel couldn't read. Understanding maybe? Or tolerance for human folly? With an incline of his head, Teal'c turned to go. Sam glanced at the folder in her hands, pulled an unhappy face, then gave it to Jack. She, too, looked for a moment as if she'd say something, but she only shook her head and left.
Daniel watched them go, his jaw set, the words that could change this stopped tight. He had to make the break so sharp there'd be no mending. With two down, there was just Jack to go. And he knew how to push Jack.
But as soon as the door shut, Jack said, his voice flat, “You want to ask the question?”
Daniel had to blink and restart the conversation-it wasn't matching the one he'd anticipated. “Question?”
Jack tossed the folder on the single, narrow table in the room. He kept his hands loose at his side where a glance would show he didn't have a weapon. But Jack didn't need a gun or a knife to kill. “Carter and Teal'c asked already.”
Daniel turned that over, then caught what had to be the topic. Folding his arms, he went for maximum aggravation. “Ah-that question. What's the point?”
“I'm beginning to think it's on your head.”
Leave it to Jack to go for juvenile sarscasm. Daniel stared at him. He'd caught the glint in Jack's eyes. The man was more than wound tight, so Daniel decided he undercut any good intentions Jack might have and just hit Jack with the exaggerated patience he kept for the willfully obtuse. “If you were there, it indicates you're the type of person who'd agree with that kind of deception through silence. That also means someone who'd lie about it afterwards. Hence-pointless to ask.”
Jack nodded and the glint in his eyes warmed, and Daniel wondered if he should shut up and let Jack struggle for his own answers. He turned away. “Say what you need to and leave.”
“Fine. We ought to pin a medal on Maybourne.”
The words hit like a staff blast, slammed into him. He'd expected badgering. He'd been ready for Jack's sarcasm. He'd thought he'd even been ready to hear the worst-that Jack had known about everything.
He'd been more than wrong. Again.
Blinking, Daniel looked at the man and tried to see below the smug expression and the twist to Jack's mouth. Hurt fired because Jack had the ease of someone who'd meant every word he'd just said.
Oh, hell-well, he'd wanted distance from everyone, knew he needed it to protect himself. Now it seemed as if he was going to get it in spades.
Jack gestured to the folder and said, “Before you make up your mind about everything, take a look. Carter's added some stuff.”
Glancing at the folder, Daniel thought about refusing. He'd rather pick up a larval Goa'uld. But he stepped forward and thumbed the file open. Then he looked up. “My presentation? This is from the proceedings?”
“It's also part of the official records now. Carter saw to that.”
Head dropping, Daniel pulled in a short breath and tried to hang onto the last of his temper. “And that helps? Burying the information deeper is supposed to make this okay?”
“This program goes public, so does that. Your ideas, Daniel. Everyone will hear about them someday.”
With a harsh laugh, Daniel paced to his corner again, waved a hand, even though it was useless. Then he turned. “God, Jack-so what! It gets to be a footnote in fifty years? Eighty? That's a help to anyone how?”
“Oh, sorry you're not happy with less than perfection, Doctor Jackson. Just because Carter though you might actually like to get credit for-”
“Credit? You think that's what this is? I'm sulking because Maybourne-”
“Maybourne did squat, and we both know it! He had someone light a match. So what? Daniel, you set the groundwork. You must have slapped down most of the people you ever met. Just like you did your first day here-wiped out years of sweat in two minutes, trashed every other geek's translation with chalk and a blackboard.”
“They were wrong.” Daniel stiffened, told himself to shut up and stop sounding like a defensive first-year grad student.
“Yeah, and you pounded that home like a bag of hammers. All with a smile. How many others you do that to? Hell, you must have filled that hall with people just dying to see you flame out. So how much d'you figure Maybourne-or whoever he sent-really had to do, considering you were trailing jet fuel for that match of his?”
Not trusting himself, Daniel kept his jaw tight and his stare on the tips of Jack's boots. God, he really didn't want this. But, damnit, Jack had a point. Maybourne probably hadn't needed to do much of anything-but he had anyway. And Jack didn't get it. Eyes narrowing, he glanced up again. Jack should get it. “I know the obvious often escapes you, but what actually matters are the implications and attitudes behind the actions.”
“Oh, really?”
“God, yes, really! You think what matters most is that I was made to look a fool? That's nothing new-my theories, my papers, had been putting me on the radical edge for years. But what I had to offer...it wasn't some Von Daniken best-selling nonsense. I had data-information others should have been able to use and build on. Research was invalidated-good research. Truth was turned into lies. And now I'm supposed to be happy with being further attached to that? As if I was complicit? Well, you can just go to hell with that.”
Jack's anger flared-Daniel saw it fire in the man's narrowing eyes. He forced himself to stay still and not step back, but he knew that his words had managed to break something. He fought the sudden urge to apologize. Biting down on the inside of his lower lip, he looked away. Then he heard Jack's boots.
Glancing up, he saw Jack stop at the door. Jack had turned his back, and Daniel could see the tension in the other man's neck and shoulders. Jack looked inches away from a shouting match that would lead them both into saying unforgivable things.
But then Jack turned to face him and Daniel knew they were going to say things they shouldn't anyway. “You want this to be a perfect world? News flash, Daniel-not going to happen. Not here-or anywhere.”
“So we should all stop trying to improve anything? Is that what you want from me? Accept that a few mouthed platitudes will make this okay?”
“I'm not trying-”
“Yes, you are. You want me to shut up about this and pretend it didn't happen. Well, that's not going to happen, either. I don't want explanations. Or excuses. In fact, there's nothing I really want from you, or the military, right now.”
The pulse beat hard in Jack's jaw. He stared at Daniel for a long minute, then said, his voice flattened, “Nothing hun? Then you damn well can take three days of it. Consider yourself on suspension.”
Mouth falling open, Daniel stared at the other man, and his own frustration kindled hot. “Me? For-? And I suppose Maybourne gets that medal after all!”
“You may have security clearance, Daniel, but that doesn't mean authorization to access any file you like. And Hammond left you to me to deal with. But, I'll tell you again-anything at that conference that got us you, we ought to put a medal on Maybourne for it. Now you have to figure out if it was worth it for what you got.”
Frowning, Daniel shook his head and blinked. He was too tired to pull apart Jack's sentences to fit them into any kind of logic, and he didn't want to anyway. He wanted that shouting match suddenly-to yell and lash out.
Jack only smiled, his lips curving, but his eyes still held that harsh, dark fire. “You got Sha're, Daniel. That worth it?”
Head jerking back, Daniel tried to catch a breath, but found he couldn't. He had to lean on something, so he groped with a hand and found the bunk railing. It kept him on his feet, and Jack should have just shot him. It would have been kinder.
Sha're for his career?
The thought sank deep, burrowing like a damn symbiote. God, was there a balance in the universe and he couldn't have both-he had to pay a price for each? But he didn't believe that, did not want a connection made between events that had nothing in common. Catherine could have approached him without the military stepping in to ensure his failure. Couldn't she?
But what if it was connected? What if it had been a choice? One he hadn't even been aware of making?
No-that wasn't true.
Turning, he stared at barren walls. He'd been stunned before. Now he swayed, every defense he'd managed to pull together shattered, thoughts reeling and spinning, his emotions in turmoil. He sank down on the bunk. Then he looked up.
Jack was already gone.
He was alone with the door open and Jack's words still echoing in him.
#
Go to Part 3