by Stargate
"I'll get it." The colonel crouched in front of her, now free of the Jaffa armor, sweat-damp and carefully avoiding her eyes. "I should have gotten to you sooner," he muttered as he slid the bandage under her shirt and around her shoulder, binding it tight enough to staunch the bleeding.
He felt guilty? "Sir, you couldn't-"
"You need a shot of antibiotics," he added, tying off the bandage with a professional twist. "God knows who else that knife's been in."
Sam smiled bleakly, trying to forget the image of it suspended above her like the executioner's blade. "It was mine," she said quietly. "My dive knife."
O'Neill grunted and prepared the antibiotic shot, lifting the syringe to the light until a tiny drop of liquid beaded on its tip. Sam shivered as she stared at it. "He dipped it into acid," she heard herself say. "When you came in, he was going to drop it into my eye and-"
"Don't." Jaw clenched, he stared at the needle for a moment. Far away.
Sam closed her eyes, the sickening truth turning her hot and cold; he had lived the very nightmare she'd escaped. Lived through it over and over again, each time knowing what was to come. And no one had rescued him. No one had saved him. Dear God, how the hell had he stayed sane? "Sir, I wish-"
"Don't," he said again, more softly this time. "It's over. It's done." With that, she felt the sharp jab of the needle in her arm and the firm pressure of his thumb over the pin-prick wound. "We need to get moving."
Looking up, she nodded. "Thanks, sir."
Half a smile touched his tense face. "For the shot?"
"For coming after me."
He stood, hefting his vest and stuffing the med-kit back into a pocket, once more avoiding her gaze. "What else was I gonna do, Carter? Run away and leave you here?"
Maybe, she thought, catching the note of self-reproach in his voice. It told her more about what he'd suffered here than anything else. That he'd come after her anyway, despite the demons riding him, reminded her that nothing she felt about this man's courage and loyalty was unwarranted. She rose, ignoring the sudden light-headed tilt to the room. "Let's get out of here, sir."
For a moment he met her eyes, a tiny acknowledgement of the truth. Then he slipped on his tac-vest and reached for the P90. "Daniel and Teal'c should be waiting for us on the roof. With the power unit and a getaway car."
She smiled. "A fast one?"
"It'd better be." He tossed her his zat. "Let's go."
"That's it!" Beneath the rocks and rubble Daniel saw the glint of a ruby encrusted headpiece. It had taken half an hour of finger-bleeding digging to reach the statue, the whole time conscious that the rest of the ceiling could land on their heads if they so much as sneezed. But at last, there it was, as coldly beautiful as before.
Teal'c worked uncomplainingly at his side, although Daniel suspected he must have cracked a rib, or worse, when the pillar landed on him. Not that he'd ever complain. Teal'c meant `strength' and his parents had named him well.
"You pull," Daniel suggested as he pushed and shoved the stones out of the way. A golden face came into view, and to Daniel's absolute relief its eyes still glowed soft yellow. The cave-in hadn't damaged the power unit. Teal'c wrapped his large hands around the statue's head and leaned back with all his weight; not really the recommended method of excavation, but in a pinch anything would do. Teal'c pulled, Daniel pushed at the rocks, and little by little the statue emerged until the whole thing was freed and it lay prone amid the rubble. An ignominious fall for a god.
Squatting in front of it, Daniel ran his fingers over the smooth lines of the sculpture. It was truly a piece of art.
"The power unit must be concealed within," Teal'c said, standing above him like the voice of reason.
A trickle of dirt pattered down onto the broken pillar behind them. Daniel wondered what exactly was holding up the ceiling, then decided it was better not to wonder. With a sigh, he rolled the heavy statue over. But the back was as smooth as the front - so where the hell did you put the batteries? He let his fingers explore, touching, twisting, and experimenting as he looked for something that might trigger a release mechanism. But there was nothing. "Help me stand it up," he said after a while, his frustration growing.
Once on its feet, he cupped its face with both hands and explored lightly along the jaw line. In the back of his mind he heard the warning note in Teal'c's voice, "Daniel Jackson..." but ignored it. Finally, his questing fingers found an anomaly on the smooth metal skin. The tiniest of lumps, one on each side of its neck. Eyes still fixed on the statue he pressed down hard. For a moment nothing happened, and then he heard a slight hiss.
"Watch out!" he yelled. Jerking his hands free, Daniel jumped back as a thin green mist shot from around the statue's neck. Extending no further than three feet in radius, it fell to the floor like rain, hissing against the stones.
"Poison," Teal'c observed.
"Nice." Climbing to his feet, Daniel wiped his hands on his pants. "Look," he said, nodding at the statue. The light was fading from its eyes in a slow parody of death. Carefully, Daniel reached into a pocket and pulled out his bandana. He approached the statue cautiously and wrapped its headpiece in the cloth. It only took a gentle twist for the section to come loose, and he lifted it carefully and set it on the floor. Keeping his distance, he peered inside. A silver cylinder sat within the body of the figure, emitting a faint violet light. "Take a look," he invited Teal'c, glancing up over the tops of his glasses. "Does that look Goa'uld to you?"
Teal'c shook his head. "It does not."
"Bingo!"
An eyebrow cocked in response.
"Bingo. You know, B.I.N.G.O?"
The eyebrow climbed higher.
"Never mind." Binding a hand in his bandanna, Daniel reached in warily and touched the alien device. Nothing happened. More confi dently, he slipped his fingers around it and pulled. It slid free with a smooth click. Twelve inches long, it was beautiful in its simplicity, and as he carefully laid it on the floor he could see familiar markings engraved on its metallic surface. "Derigo chao," he read, glancing up at Teal'c. "To bring order to chaos. It's written in Ancient."
Teal'c considered for a moment. "Those are not words of war."
"No," Daniel agreed, carefully wrapping the soft cloth around the device. "Wouldn't be the first time the Goa'uld have used peaceful technology to wage war." And not just the Goa'uld. He glanced up. "We need to get this to Sam."
If she's still alive. The thought popped out of nowhere, chilling him. Swallowing hard, he emptied MRE's out of a pocket in his tac vest and settled the power unit snuggly inside.
"We must hurry," Teal'c said quietly. "O'Neill will be displeased if we are tardy."
Tardy? Daniel shook his head, amused by the choice of words, and rose to his feet. "Come on," he said. "Let's go steal a ship."
CHAPTER NINETEEN
he stairs seemed endless, marked only by the dimming glow of his flashlight and the rhythmic throbbing of his right knee. Carter climbed ahead of him, head bowed and silent. Her injured left arm hung limply at her side, the zat clutched tightly in her right hand.
She hadn't said much since they'd left the storeroom, but he could feel her tension like static in the air. He'd rarely seen her so on edge. Not that he blamedher. The image of her plastered across the landscape of his own nightmare lurked dangerously in the back of his mind. Had he looked that vulnerable? Had he looked that frightened? The thought churned around and around, a noxious mixture of anger and panic. Only a few times in his life had he been truly helpless, and each one had threatened to unravel what passed for his sanity. He suspected each one still could, if he let himself think too much.
"Carter?" He spoke more to distract himself than because he had something to say.
She turned and glanced back at him. "Sir?"
"Let's take a breather. My knee's killing me."
She said nothing, just watched as he unhooked a canteen from the back of his belt and handed it to her. After a couple of mouthfuls
, she handed it back.
"When did you last eat?" he asked.
"Not sure. I'm not hungry, sir."
"Come on, Carter, you know better than that." You ate when you could, not when you were hungry. Delving into a vest pocket, he pulled out a couple of Mainstay bars. "Mmmrnm," he enthused in his best Homer Simpson, "artificial vanilla flavoring...."
It earned him a glimmer of a smile as she took the rations from his hand. "Mouth watering."
He peeled open his own bar and took an unenthusiastic bite. "You know, seriously, my knee is going to give up the ghost if we don't get to the roof soon."
Carter nodded and nibbled at the end of her ration bar, staring up the stairs in silence. For a moment he thought he'd lost her, that she was back down there with the knives and the acid. Clearing his throat, he was about to yank her out when she spoke. "I think I can see some light, sir."
"Really?" Stepping up level with her, he lowered his flashlight. After a moment his eyes adjusted and he could see what she meant. A very faint halo of light was glowing on the right-hand wall. "That's it. That's the roof"
"There'll be Jaffa up there."
"Nothing we can't handle Carter."
"Last time-"
"Last time was last time." He stuffed the remains of his Mainstay bar back into his vest. "We've taken knocks before, Carter. It's no different." Only it was, and they both knew it. But he wasn't about to admit that. He needed her focused. "Finish up and start moving. You know how Teal'c gets if we're late."
"Yes, sir." Tucking the barely-touched rations into the pocket of her pants, she took a deep breath and started climbing. He followed, and they walked in a silence that seemed to deepen with each step.
Slowly the light brightened into strips that ran beneath a set of double doors and in a line down their center. As they drew near, imperceptibly at first, they began to slow. She began to slow. It put Jack on edge; she was reminding him too much of himself. By the time they were ten steps from the door they'd stopped, and Carter was staring at it like it was the enemy.
"I'll be back in a minute," he told her carefully, taking the remaining steps two at a time - much to the outrage of his right knee - and pressing his ear against the door. Beyond, he heard the scuff of booted feet, a muffled order, and the quiet whine of engines at rest. Their luck had held.
Trotting back to Carter, he kept his voice low. "Sounds like we're in the right place. I can hear engine noise and movement. But I don't think the party's started yet."
"So we wait?" She sounded doggedly normal.
"We wait." Moving closer, he whispered, "Carter, you hanging in there?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, are you okay?" He knew she understood everything that little word encompassed.
She flashed him an angry smile. "I'm fine, sir. Ready to kick some Jaffa ass."
Oh, so not fine. "Carter-"
"Sir. I'm not going to let you down."
"I know that." What else could he say? He knew what she was feeling, he'd been there and bought the T-shirt. Repeatedly. There was absolutely nothing to say. So he changed the subject. "You don't have a vest. When it goes down, try to stay behind me."
"Yes, sir." But he doubted she would. Behind her eyes and the automatic reply lurked something dark. Like him, she knew there were things worse than death. Capture being the worst of them.
Daniel stared at the bank of ring devices in astonishment. Ten rows of ten, all neatly aligned in a grid, each set of rings was only large enough to hold two men: a death glider flight crew.
"Many Goa'uld fortresses and Ha'taks have such facilities," Teal'c told him, circling the control panel. "It enables the speedy deployment of fighters in case of surprise attack."
He eyed the smoke-damaged, waterlogged room dubiously. "Are they still working?" He doubted any Jaffa had been scrambled from here since Lord Yu had brought the place to its knees.
Teal'c didn't answer immediately, concentrating on the controls. When he looked up, there was a hint of triumph in his face. "We have been fortunate, Daniel Jackson."
Blowing out a slow breath, Daniel reached for his gun and moved to stand inside one of the rings. "You know we're going to have a welcoming committee up there, right?"
"I do. We must be prepared to defend ourselves."
"Right." That easy.
After touching the controls, Teal'c moved to stand next to Daniel inside the set of rings. "I will secure the area behind us," he said, readying his staff weapon. "You concentrate on the area before."
"Got it," Daniel nodded. "Front. I can do that." And it wasn't a lie. Who'd have thought, when he entered grad school, that a decade and a half later he'd be wielding a gun like a pro? Certainly not him, not in a million years.
"Standby." Teal'c ducked into a defensive crouch. "Three, two, one-
Whap, whap, whap.
Short and dizzying, the experience was almost more disorientating than `gate travel. As the rings whipped up from around them, Daniel found himself standing on a windswept, blast-damaged rooftop, with gray clouds scudding overhead and at least a dozen astonished Jaffa staring at him.
For a moment, no one moved. Then someone yelled, "Shibio diu!" and all hell broke loose.
The sounds of a firelight bled through the doors, along with the welcome rattle of a P90.
"Party's started," the colonel murmured, heading up the stairs. "Let's go join the fun."
Stomach twisted into a knot, Sam nodded but didn't answer. Speaking required effort, and she had none to spare from the struggle to keep her anger at bay. It was like a live thing, frightening and unpredictable. That single drop of acid hovered before her mind's eye, waiting to fall. All she could think about was how many times it had dropped and burned into the colonel. How many times he'd screamed. And how she hadn't been there to save him. Not one time. It made her want to howl with rage, at herself and the bastard who had tortured him. And you, a quiet voice reminded her, they tortured you too. She silenced it. She didn't care about that. Certainly not enough to make her this afraid.
Afraid? The word caught her unawares and she stumbled, causing Colonel O'Neill to glance at her uneasily.
Ignoring the look, she kept on climbing. Not afraid, she corrected herself. Angry. She was angry . Angry at what the colonel had endured. She reminded herself of that fact with every step as she followed him up the stairs and watched him listen at the door.
"Sounds like they're on the other side of the roof," he whispered. "Get the doors open, Carter. And stay sharp."
The controls were simple. Her fingers slid over them mechanically and obediently the doors drew back to admit a blast of cold air and a flood of thin light. She squinted, pressing herself flat against the wall while her eyesight adjusted. The colonel was on the opposite side of the door, and as her vision cleared she watched him cautiously peer around its edge. Following his example she saw a dozen Jaffa arrayed around a huge landing platform dotted with burned-out death gliders. They were harrying two familiar figures. Daniel ducked behind the remains of a rusting glider, raking the Jaffa with gunfire, while Teal'c raced headlong for a serviceable looking tel'tak that sat halfway between him and herself.
"Go!" O'Neill hissed, slipping out of the door.
Heart hammering, she followed and did a swift three-sixty. No one behind them, all attention was fixed on Daniel and Teal'c. Silently, the colonel signaled her toward the tel'tak while he crept up on the Jaffa who had Daniel pinned down. He took cover behind the ruined walls of what might once have been a storage facility. Running at a low crouch, Sam was almost at the tel'tak when O'Neill opened fire. Single shots. Three Jaffa went down.
With angry yells, the remaining men turned their weapons on the new threat, blasting chunks of stone as the colonel dove behind the crumbling wall.
"Hey!" Daniel yelled, breaking cover and opening fire in a wide arc, sending more Jaffa sprawling to the ground. Sam kept running, her wounded shoulder pounding with each step, until she was within the sh
adow of the tel'tak. Keeping low, she searched for the doorway, creeping silently, each movement focused and controlled. It was all about control. Control your anger, control your fear. She was almost there, almost inside the ship where she could-
"Stop!" The business end of a staff weapon jabbed into her ribs and she froze. "Disarm, or die where you stand" The fingers on her weapon went slack as, slowly, she turned her head. A young Jaffa, almost a boy, stood staring at her through hate-glazed eyes.
They mirrored her own, she suspected.
Caught between the Devil and the deep blue sea, Jack thought as the last of the Jaffa fell to Daniel's gunfire. They hadn't stood a chance once he'd come in on their six. Bad tactics; always cover your ass. High on adrenaline and victory, he vaulted over the blasted stone wall and strode toward Daniel. The air was ripe with the battle-scents of ozone, gun-powder and blood, and he couldn't help a feral grin that spread across his face. They'd done it again!
"You're getting good with that thing," he called as Daniel emerged from behind the rusting glider. "They're gonna have to start paying you more."
"They pay per scalp these days?" Daniel's uncomfortable glance only briefly touched the fallen Jaffa, before skittering away toward the tel'tak. Hopefully Teal'c and Carter were safe inside.
"Them or us," Jack reminded him. But Daniel's distaste served to puncture his battle-high, bringing him slowly down to Earth. Or wherever.
"Talking of which," Daniel said, "I saw Sam with you. Is she okay?"
Good question. He shrugged slightly, avoiding his friend's inquisitive gaze. "She will be."