stargate fic: another beginning's end (2/3)
Title: Another Beginning's End
Part 2 of 3.
***
Their escape met no resistance as the pair effortlessly retraced the route Jack had utilized to gain access into the building. It was far too easy, Jack thought, but for once in his life, his luck held, and soon enough they made their way across the river, putting some distance between them and the warehouse.
Even as he helped Carter along, Jack didn't let his guard down for one second. Previous experience had taught him that overconfidence could quickly kill a successful mission and, sparing a glance down at the woman by his side, he was determined to see this one through to the end, unwilling to fail.
At last they arrived at their destination, a small, vacant two-story house in another district of Baghdad, a place Jack had scouted thoroughly earlier in the day. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, he helped Carter inside, conducting a speedy reconnaissance of the first floor before they ambled their way up to the second. The second floor was just as empty as the one beneath, and the two officers shuffled into one of the larger rooms, Jack settling Carter on the floor against the wall, facing the entryway.
He removed the satchel and placed the flashlight on the ground, kneeling by her side. Gently, he took her hand and slid his sidearm into her palm, closing her fingers securely around the grip of the weapon. She looked down at the gun for a moment before raising her eyes to meet his, and a shared look of mutual understanding passing between them as she wordlessly acknowledged what he was asking her to do.
Trusting Carter to watch his six, Jack moved a few feet away, searching for something along the wall. He reached beneath his thawb and dug through the pockets of the BDU pants he wore underneath the long shirt, retrieving his Swiss army knife. Using the tip of the blade, he carefully pried a loose panel from the wall and pulled out some of the supplies he had hidden at dawn. Had that really only been this morning, he wondered?
"They're gone, aren't they?"
The soft, slightly raspy voice stopped Jack from what he was doing for a moment, bowing his head, not quite sure how to break the news to her. But his silence was all Carter needed to figure things out on her own. As he lit a couple of candles, she quietly continued talking, recounting the horror of the last few days.
"Our fighters were shot down within two hundred yards of each other. It happened so fast, I still don't really understand what went wrong, and we didn't even have enough time to eject. I have no idea how we survived given that we were transonic when we were hit and the relative velocity and rapid descent into the terrain..."
The sentence faded as she shook her head, either unable to remember what had happened or realizing she was starting to ramble about the physics of the crash. Closing her eyes briefly, she sucked in a deep breath, exhaled softly, and plunged ahead.
"Lieutenant Vega and I managed to escape the wreckage of our plane. We somehow made it on foot to Major Branson and Lieutenant Singleton. The major--"
There was yet another pause as she bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling, visibly struggling to maintain her composure.
Jack gave her shoulder a squeeze, silently supporting her, and her inner strength emerged once more, fighting through the anguish that had threatened to bubble to the surface.
"We were caught shortly after we reunited. I was separated from Vega and Singleton and taken to the warehouse where they tried questioning me."
Jack arched an eyebrow, handing her a canteen. "I assume you told them to fuck off?"
The corners of Carter's mouth briefly rose in a weak smile as she nodded. "Yes, sir. Repeatedly. They ended up throwing me in that room after they realized I wasn't going to talk."
He couldn't help but feel a stirring of pride at the young lieutenant's resiliency, reminded of his own capture and long-term captivity in this godforsaken country some time ago. He had survived that trip to hell and the arduous journey back, and he firmly believed her own courage would see her through her own ordeal.
Carter suddenly tilted her head to one side, a curious glint in her eyes. "I just realized I don't even know your name, sir."
"It's Jack."
"Jack," she parroted, eyebrows lifting slightly as if she expected him to reveal the rest of his name and rank, but before she could say another word, the canteen tumbled from her hand and she snapped up the sidearm, aiming for a point over Jack's shoulder.
Only a fraction of a second behind her, Jack twisted around, prepared to meet the threat when he caught a glimpse of the figure standing in the entryway. His hand shot out for Carter's wrist, lowering her arm before she could fire the weapon.
"Carter, it's okay! He's a friendly!"
Gradually, her breathing slowed back to normal as the adrenaline rush subsided, and he gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze before turning to the new arrival. It was Jack's Saudi informant, carrying a parcel, looking cautiously from Jack to Carter and back again.
He tipped his head forward in a small bow of apology. "Forgive me, sadiq. I did not intend to alarm you."
Jack waved off the apology, taking the parcel from the man. "Any news?"
"I received a communiqué from your U.S. forces. Rescue is on the way. All of the pertinent information is in the parcel."
That earned the informant a rare, genuine smile from Jack, who bowed his head forward in appreciation and shook the man's hand. "Thank you, my friend. I owe you one."
The Saudi raised his hand, shaking his head, exchanging the smile. "For what you did for me and my family, think nothing of it, sadiq. I will take my leave." He threw one more glance at the young woman sitting by the wall before returning his attention to Jack. "I pray you will continue to be blessed with good fortune. Farewell."
The informant exited as silently as he had arrived, and soon Jack and Carter were alone once more.
Walking back to her side, he settled himself down and tore open the parcel, finding the promised information as well as a wrapped loaf of warm bread. His stomach suddenly and quite loudly informed him that it had been some time since his last meal. Jack broke the loaf in two and offered half to Carter, who immediately blanched at the sight of the food and mumbled that she wasn't hungry. He sighed, doing his best to remain patient with her.
"Look, Carter, it isn't exactly fine dining, but I need you to keep your strength up if we're going to get the hell out of this place in one piece. Don't force me to make it an order."
Those blue eyes flashed in response, and for a moment it appeared as if she was going to argue with him, but he leveled his gaze with her own, engaging in a silent battle of wills until she reluctantly took the bread and tore off a piece, eating silently.
Jack resisted the urge to comment on her stubbornness, taking the small victory and not pressing her further as long as she ate. He diverted his attention back to the communiqué and perused the documents as he ate his own meal.
A Special Forces unit was being dispatched by chopper from Prince Sultan Air Base, southeast of Riyadh, scheduled to pick him and Carter up at a park in northeastern Baghdad at dawn. They had a few hours to rest before they needed to head out to the rendezvous point. Deciding to make the best of that time, Jack finished his bread and reached for the first aid kit.
He worked swiftly and silently as he examined Carter for injuries, finding various cuts and bruises all over the place, uncertain whether they were from the crash or souvenirs from her captors. Her wrists were rubbed raw from being bound, the right an angry shade of red from where the rope had bit into the skin, the left swollen and mottled black and blue, more than likely broken. After utilizing some antibiotic cream on the cuts, he fashioned a makeshift splint and sling from the equipment in the military-grade first aid kit before moving onto the ribs, bracing himself for the worst.
Being as gentle as possible, Jack lightly probed her sides, first the right, then the left, jerking back when she tensed and inhaled a sharp, strangled gasp, slapping his hands away. His jaw clenched as he remembered the blood on the gag.
Shit. Definitely broken.
Jack closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, tamping down on his frustration and a sheer sense of helplessness. In enemy territory with nothing more than the first aid kit, there wasn't anything more he could do for her except give her a couple of T3 tablets to help with the pain and keep her as still as possible to avoid injuring her further until their rescue arrived.
They faced six hours until dawn, but to Jack, it felt like waiting for six lifetimes to pass.
A muffled cough pulled him from his negative thoughts, and he opened his eyes to find Carter watching him.
He met her steady gaze, the pain and exhaustion obvious, but he found something else he did not expect present in those eyes, unmistakable and unconditional: trust. There was no doubt in Jack's mind that she understood the dire situation they found themselves in, yet everything in her expression told him she believed he would not let anything happen to her.
That he would not let her down.
His callused fingertips fluttered over her face as he wiped some of the dirt and grime off her pale skin, and his heart gave an involuntary quiver as she leaned into the touch. He withstood the urge to pull his hand back, playing with a metaphorical fire that was too hot for him to handle.
For crying out loud, he was a married man!
But for some reason he couldn't define, couldn't really make heads nor tails of, he inexplicably felt himself drawn to the young officer. She was tough as nails and braver than most of the guys he had served with, this Samantha Carter, and in the few short hours since they had met, she had unknowingly found herself a comfortable spot in the corner of his heart and set up camp.
Heaven help her if she found a fishing pole and made the spot permanent.
He handed her the medication and then shifted closer, resting against the wall next to Carter, his voice soft. "We have a few hours until the chopper arrives. Get some sleep, Lieutenant."
This time she did not even attempt to argue, taking the pills without question and finally surrendering to exhaustion. Carter gingerly nestled closer to her rescuer, lightly laying her head against his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut. Only a few minutes passed before he heard her breathing even out, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her even closer.
It was more for her benefit than his, having her so close, he thought.
Then again, Jack had a remarkable ability to lie to himself.
End part 2.
Continue to part 3.
Part 2 of 3.
***
Their escape met no resistance as the pair effortlessly retraced the route Jack had utilized to gain access into the building. It was far too easy, Jack thought, but for once in his life, his luck held, and soon enough they made their way across the river, putting some distance between them and the warehouse.
Even as he helped Carter along, Jack didn't let his guard down for one second. Previous experience had taught him that overconfidence could quickly kill a successful mission and, sparing a glance down at the woman by his side, he was determined to see this one through to the end, unwilling to fail.
At last they arrived at their destination, a small, vacant two-story house in another district of Baghdad, a place Jack had scouted thoroughly earlier in the day. Throwing one last glance over his shoulder, he helped Carter inside, conducting a speedy reconnaissance of the first floor before they ambled their way up to the second. The second floor was just as empty as the one beneath, and the two officers shuffled into one of the larger rooms, Jack settling Carter on the floor against the wall, facing the entryway.
He removed the satchel and placed the flashlight on the ground, kneeling by her side. Gently, he took her hand and slid his sidearm into her palm, closing her fingers securely around the grip of the weapon. She looked down at the gun for a moment before raising her eyes to meet his, and a shared look of mutual understanding passing between them as she wordlessly acknowledged what he was asking her to do.
Trusting Carter to watch his six, Jack moved a few feet away, searching for something along the wall. He reached beneath his thawb and dug through the pockets of the BDU pants he wore underneath the long shirt, retrieving his Swiss army knife. Using the tip of the blade, he carefully pried a loose panel from the wall and pulled out some of the supplies he had hidden at dawn. Had that really only been this morning, he wondered?
"They're gone, aren't they?"
The soft, slightly raspy voice stopped Jack from what he was doing for a moment, bowing his head, not quite sure how to break the news to her. But his silence was all Carter needed to figure things out on her own. As he lit a couple of candles, she quietly continued talking, recounting the horror of the last few days.
"Our fighters were shot down within two hundred yards of each other. It happened so fast, I still don't really understand what went wrong, and we didn't even have enough time to eject. I have no idea how we survived given that we were transonic when we were hit and the relative velocity and rapid descent into the terrain..."
The sentence faded as she shook her head, either unable to remember what had happened or realizing she was starting to ramble about the physics of the crash. Closing her eyes briefly, she sucked in a deep breath, exhaled softly, and plunged ahead.
"Lieutenant Vega and I managed to escape the wreckage of our plane. We somehow made it on foot to Major Branson and Lieutenant Singleton. The major--"
There was yet another pause as she bit down on her lower lip to keep it from trembling, visibly struggling to maintain her composure.
Jack gave her shoulder a squeeze, silently supporting her, and her inner strength emerged once more, fighting through the anguish that had threatened to bubble to the surface.
"We were caught shortly after we reunited. I was separated from Vega and Singleton and taken to the warehouse where they tried questioning me."
Jack arched an eyebrow, handing her a canteen. "I assume you told them to fuck off?"
The corners of Carter's mouth briefly rose in a weak smile as she nodded. "Yes, sir. Repeatedly. They ended up throwing me in that room after they realized I wasn't going to talk."
He couldn't help but feel a stirring of pride at the young lieutenant's resiliency, reminded of his own capture and long-term captivity in this godforsaken country some time ago. He had survived that trip to hell and the arduous journey back, and he firmly believed her own courage would see her through her own ordeal.
Carter suddenly tilted her head to one side, a curious glint in her eyes. "I just realized I don't even know your name, sir."
"It's Jack."
"Jack," she parroted, eyebrows lifting slightly as if she expected him to reveal the rest of his name and rank, but before she could say another word, the canteen tumbled from her hand and she snapped up the sidearm, aiming for a point over Jack's shoulder.
Only a fraction of a second behind her, Jack twisted around, prepared to meet the threat when he caught a glimpse of the figure standing in the entryway. His hand shot out for Carter's wrist, lowering her arm before she could fire the weapon.
"Carter, it's okay! He's a friendly!"
Gradually, her breathing slowed back to normal as the adrenaline rush subsided, and he gave her shoulder another reassuring squeeze before turning to the new arrival. It was Jack's Saudi informant, carrying a parcel, looking cautiously from Jack to Carter and back again.
He tipped his head forward in a small bow of apology. "Forgive me, sadiq. I did not intend to alarm you."
Jack waved off the apology, taking the parcel from the man. "Any news?"
"I received a communiqué from your U.S. forces. Rescue is on the way. All of the pertinent information is in the parcel."
That earned the informant a rare, genuine smile from Jack, who bowed his head forward in appreciation and shook the man's hand. "Thank you, my friend. I owe you one."
The Saudi raised his hand, shaking his head, exchanging the smile. "For what you did for me and my family, think nothing of it, sadiq. I will take my leave." He threw one more glance at the young woman sitting by the wall before returning his attention to Jack. "I pray you will continue to be blessed with good fortune. Farewell."
The informant exited as silently as he had arrived, and soon Jack and Carter were alone once more.
Walking back to her side, he settled himself down and tore open the parcel, finding the promised information as well as a wrapped loaf of warm bread. His stomach suddenly and quite loudly informed him that it had been some time since his last meal. Jack broke the loaf in two and offered half to Carter, who immediately blanched at the sight of the food and mumbled that she wasn't hungry. He sighed, doing his best to remain patient with her.
"Look, Carter, it isn't exactly fine dining, but I need you to keep your strength up if we're going to get the hell out of this place in one piece. Don't force me to make it an order."
Those blue eyes flashed in response, and for a moment it appeared as if she was going to argue with him, but he leveled his gaze with her own, engaging in a silent battle of wills until she reluctantly took the bread and tore off a piece, eating silently.
Jack resisted the urge to comment on her stubbornness, taking the small victory and not pressing her further as long as she ate. He diverted his attention back to the communiqué and perused the documents as he ate his own meal.
A Special Forces unit was being dispatched by chopper from Prince Sultan Air Base, southeast of Riyadh, scheduled to pick him and Carter up at a park in northeastern Baghdad at dawn. They had a few hours to rest before they needed to head out to the rendezvous point. Deciding to make the best of that time, Jack finished his bread and reached for the first aid kit.
He worked swiftly and silently as he examined Carter for injuries, finding various cuts and bruises all over the place, uncertain whether they were from the crash or souvenirs from her captors. Her wrists were rubbed raw from being bound, the right an angry shade of red from where the rope had bit into the skin, the left swollen and mottled black and blue, more than likely broken. After utilizing some antibiotic cream on the cuts, he fashioned a makeshift splint and sling from the equipment in the military-grade first aid kit before moving onto the ribs, bracing himself for the worst.
Being as gentle as possible, Jack lightly probed her sides, first the right, then the left, jerking back when she tensed and inhaled a sharp, strangled gasp, slapping his hands away. His jaw clenched as he remembered the blood on the gag.
Shit. Definitely broken.
Jack closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath, tamping down on his frustration and a sheer sense of helplessness. In enemy territory with nothing more than the first aid kit, there wasn't anything more he could do for her except give her a couple of T3 tablets to help with the pain and keep her as still as possible to avoid injuring her further until their rescue arrived.
They faced six hours until dawn, but to Jack, it felt like waiting for six lifetimes to pass.
A muffled cough pulled him from his negative thoughts, and he opened his eyes to find Carter watching him.
He met her steady gaze, the pain and exhaustion obvious, but he found something else he did not expect present in those eyes, unmistakable and unconditional: trust. There was no doubt in Jack's mind that she understood the dire situation they found themselves in, yet everything in her expression told him she believed he would not let anything happen to her.
That he would not let her down.
His callused fingertips fluttered over her face as he wiped some of the dirt and grime off her pale skin, and his heart gave an involuntary quiver as she leaned into the touch. He withstood the urge to pull his hand back, playing with a metaphorical fire that was too hot for him to handle.
For crying out loud, he was a married man!
But for some reason he couldn't define, couldn't really make heads nor tails of, he inexplicably felt himself drawn to the young officer. She was tough as nails and braver than most of the guys he had served with, this Samantha Carter, and in the few short hours since they had met, she had unknowingly found herself a comfortable spot in the corner of his heart and set up camp.
Heaven help her if she found a fishing pole and made the spot permanent.
He handed her the medication and then shifted closer, resting against the wall next to Carter, his voice soft. "We have a few hours until the chopper arrives. Get some sleep, Lieutenant."
This time she did not even attempt to argue, taking the pills without question and finally surrendering to exhaustion. Carter gingerly nestled closer to her rescuer, lightly laying her head against his shoulder, her eyes drifting shut. Only a few minutes passed before he heard her breathing even out, and he slipped an arm around her shoulders, tucking her even closer.
It was more for her benefit than his, having her so close, he thought.
Then again, Jack had a remarkable ability to lie to himself.
End part 2.
Continue to part 3.