Lieutenant Colonel
Samantha Carter, U.S. Air Force, blinked her eyes to clear them of the
glare from the transporter and flexed her hand around the handle of her
aluminum case. Satisfied that it had survived intact and made the trip
with her, she looked around. She was where she was supposed to be - the
Oval Office of the White House. Holy Hannah, this sure beat flying
coach, she mused.
"Mister President?" she
said as she brought her right hand up into a salute. "Generals Hammond
and O'Neill, Ms. Grayson."
President Hayes answered
her salute with one of his own. "Colonel Carter? Welcome to the Oval
Office. I hope we didn't wake you."
Jack interrupted. "Are
you kidding, sir? She'd much rather mess with her doohickeys than sleep,
am I right, Carter?"
She bit her lip and
ducked her chin to avoid embarrassment. "I wasn't asleep . . . and
besides, I could hardly turn down an invitation like this."
"There is that," Jack
conceded. "Did you bring the gadget?"
"Right here, sir." She
turned her head to address the President. "Am I to understand that it
will be placed on General O'Neill?"
"That's the plan, right Jack?" Hayes nodded.
"Yeah sureyabetcha." Jack
sighed - one that seemed full of resignation to Sam.
She hadn't been briefed
on the full ramifications of the mission by Landry, only that a tracking
device was needed for Jack - and that it involved the continued threat
from Baal. She'd discover the details though, one way or another -
though she had a feeling she wasn't going to like it - especially when
it involved Jack.
"Sir? I hope you don't
mind but when General Landry told me what you wanted, I made some
modifications of my own." When everyone looked at her, she explained
further, "What I mean is that this isn't a homing device per se."
"What exactly is it then?" Hayes looked puzzled.
"It's a radio-active
isotope that will be injected into his bloodstream."
Jack's eyebrows did a
meet-and-greet with his hairline. "Whoa Nelly - radio-active you
say?"
"It's completely safe, sir."
"Completely?"
"Of course, sir," she
affected an injured tone. "Would I make anything else?"
"Just checking."
"Why don't you explain, Samantha," encouraged Hammond.
She nodded and set the
case down next to her. "When General Landry briefed me, I got to
thinking. Wouldn't Baal realize we were tracking the general and look
for some sort of homing device?"
"Go on," Jack smiled.
"So I devised a special
isotope to be injected into his bloodstream. It has a half-life of. .
."
"Ack! Carter,"
interrupted Jack with his hands over his ears. "My ears are
bleeding."
"Sorry, sir," Sam said
and bit her lip. Holy Hannah, she was doing it again, boring everyone to
tears.
She tugged her skirt back
over her knees and reflected that she preferred her BDU's but since this
was the White House - General Landry had suggested she wear her Class B
uniform. Thank goodness she had been able to forego the Class A regalia
and jacket. The navy-blue skirt and light blue blouse was uncomfortable
enough as it was.
"Just give us the basics," encouraged Hayes.
"Yes, Mister President.
The isotope can't be removed and will last one and a half to two months.
The Prometheus can monitor its location anywhere on this planet."
"What will happen when
the Hair-Baal doesn't find any device? Won't he get suspicious?" Jack
asked.
"I brought a regular one
with me and will place it on his dog-tags. Once Baal finds that, he
won't be so suspicious."
She bit back the
questions that were on the tip of her tongue - such as how do you know
Baal will catch you? Just what are your plans, Jack? Or is this
something you're being forced to do by the President?
She watched the people
around her with increased wariness. Did they really have Jack's best
interests in mind?
"So, how are you gonna get this thingy inside me?"
"It will be injected, sir," Sam smiled deviously.
She knew how Jack felt
about needles and planned to enjoy this. However, she also realized that
Jack kidded around the most when he was hiding something - best to play
along - for now.
"How big is the needle?" Jack's eyes narrowed.
There were worse things
to worry about besides needles though; and the teasing was a welcome
distraction. The more she heard, the more worried she became.
"Not very, sir."
"Compared to . . . what, Carter?"
Jack took off his jacket
and folded it carefully onto his lap. Then he rolled up his right
shirtsleeve.
"Ida?" Sam gestured to
where Ida sat beside Jack and smiled when the woman stood and took
another seat.
Then Sam sat next to
Jack, bent over and opened her case. Encased in foam was a vial filled
with amber-colored liquid, a syringe, and a small metallic chip.
She picked up the chip
and handed it to Jack, pleased that her hand was steady. At least her
inner turmoil hadn't affected her work.
"Stick this to your dog
tags, sir. It's the visible tracking device."
Sam watched as Jack
palmed it and looked it over. It was a thin metal wafer that would
adhere quite easily to his dog tags.
One-handed, he unbuttoned
his top button and loosened his tie, exposing his tanned neck. Then he
pulled the chain attached to his dog tags out from under his shirt and
clipped the disk to one of them where it stuck to the metal surface.
"Cool." He tapped it.
"Shouldn't we take this out for a test-drive, kick the tires, or
something?"
"In a minute, sir; I want to take care of this first."
Out of the corner of her
eye, she watched as Jack shrugged and tucked his dog-tags back under his
shirt. "Suit yourself."
In the meantime, Sam had
picked up the syringe, prepped it, and then turned to Jack.
"Make a fist, sir."
He did so and she tied
rubber tubing around his upper arm and picked up the syringe and
vial.
"Ack, you're not going to
stick that in me, are you?" Jack's eyes were wide.
"Sir, it'll be just a
little stick," she cajoled. And you will do this if you know what's good
for you, she thought. I have a sneaky suspicion that you're going to
need it, she reflected.
"What are you calling
little?" He turned to Ida. "Look at the size of that thing."
"Do you need me to hold
him down, Colonel?" Ida asked with a toothy smile that surprised
Carter.
It was a relief to know
she had someone who enjoyed - no needed - this teasing diversion as much
as she did.
"No, I don't think I'll
need your help, but I'll let you know," Carter smiled back with a smile
just as sweet.
"Women coming at me with
huge honkin' needles - power mongers - all of 'em," Jack muttered. "Just
don't break my arm. I wouldn't want you to splint it."
"Are you sure you want to
say that while I have this needle in my hand, sir?" cautioned Sam with a
smug grin.
"Oh . . . just be careful
- is that too much to ask?" Jack tensed, the muscles in his arms
corded.
"Ow," he complained as Sam inserted the needle into his vein.
"Just hold it a minute,
sir, and I'll be finished," she instructed as she fit the vial onto the
syringe and injected the contents.
Then she withdrew the
needle and applied a Band-Aid to the injection site, "All done, sir."
Jack flexed his arm and
peered suspiciously at the Band-Aid. "You couldn't find a different
one?"
"The Infirmary was fresh out of Homer Band-Aids, sir."
"Ida? Make a note of
that; requisition more Band-Aids for the SGC. Nothing's too good for our
men," he paused and noted the glare from two pairs of feminine eyes,
"And women in uniform."
In the meantime, Sam had
taken a phone out of her pocket and showed it to the President.
"I'm going to contact the Prometheus, Mister President."
"Go ahead, Samantha," agreed Hayes
She nodded, pressed a
button, and put it to her ear. After a short pause, her call was
answered.
"Stargate Command control room."
"Walter, is that you?" She paused.
"Affirmative, is this Colonel Carter?"
"Yes, put me through to
the Prometheus." She held the phone away from her mouth and spoke to the
people with her. "They're connecting me now."
She winced at the sudden
burst of static and then heard a garbled voice. "Is this the Prometheus
- over?"
She recognized the voice
of Colonel Pendergast. "Yes, this is the Prometheus. Is that you, Carter
- over?"
"Yes, this is Carter.
Operation Homer is a go. I say again, Operation Homer is a go. Do you
copy - over?"
"I copy that. Has the device been activated - over?"
"Yes, it has been activated. Are you getting a reading - over?"
"Roger that, we are
reading the target in the Washington D.C. area . . . is it at your
location - over?"
She nodded her head.
"Yes, he's standing right next to me. Maintain surveillance until
further notification - Carter - out."
"Prometheus - out," answered Pendergast.
"Homer?" Jack mouthed.
Sam smiled innocently. "I
wasn't the one who picked it, but it did seem to fit . . ."
She tucked the phone into
a pocket and turned to the President; it was time to ask some questions.
"I'd like some answers, Mister President. How do you know that General
O'Neill needs to be tracked?"
Hayes had the grace to
look uncomfortable. "We have it on good authority that an attempt will
be made to kidnap Jack once again. We're merely taking precautionary
measures so that - should this happen - we have the means to track him
down and effect a rescue as quickly as possible."
Jack looked tired as he
waved his hands. "Mister President? Cut the bull - permission to explain
this to Carter? She's a big girl and deserves a better answer than
that."
"Need to know, Jack," answered Hayes.
"Well, I say she needs to
know. Like it or not, you already involved her when she was hauled out
of the SGC - at your order - so like it or not, she earned it."
Sam watched as Jack made
his point, he seemed angry and his words confirmed her worst fears.
General Hammond cleared
his throat. "Jack has a point, Mister President. Samantha is already
involved and deserves an explanation - especially since this plan
directly impacts her private life. It would be one thing if she didn't
have a high enough security clearance - but that's not the case
here."
Sam watched the interplay
with interest. When General Hammond mentioned her private life, she
blushed, her neck and cheeks reddened. It was true though, and they'd
kept it 'in the room' for so many years.
They'd waited until they
could explore their feelings for each other without breaking the rules
of fraternization. Both had agreed that they couldn't afford to let
their growing feelings for each other affect their mission; too much was
at stake. Now that Jack was no longer in her direct chain of command her
superiors had given their unofficial okay.
Still, it was a bit
embarrassing to hear General Hammond talk about their relationship so
openly - old habits died hard and she'd grown used to denying that they
had any feelings at all. Now though -she wanted to make up for lost time
and believed that Jack did too.
Sam looked at Jack, his
face was hard and he looked tense. Her hand found his and their fingers
intertwined. She squeezed his hand and then patted it with her free
one.
Hayes shrugged. "Go ahead then."
Sam released her pent-up
breath. "Thank you, Mister President." She looked into Jack's brown
eyes; they looked cold and that scared her. She'd seen him like this
before and knew what it meant - he was preparing himself for something
he didn't want to do.
Jack and Hammond exchanged glances, "Do you want me to tell her?"
O'Neill shrugged and
ducked his head. "If you don't mind - this wasn't exactly my idea."
Hammond nodded and began.
"Tonight, we realized that Baal would attempt to recapture Jack because
of the Ancient gene he carries. Since Jack pointed out that Baal could
find him no matter where we hid him, we came to the realization that we
had no choice but to initiate a plan of our own to safeguard him. That's
where you - or rather your skills with the tracking device - came
in."
"That's why you needed
the tracking device so that if Baal caught Jack, you would know where he
was?" Sam nodded, it made sense.
Hammond nodded. "Exactly,
then we'll move in and eliminate the threat Baal poses to not only Jack,
but to our planet."
"So why does Jack look so
worried? What aren't you telling me?" Sam watched through narrowed eyes
and squeezed Jack's hand.
"We believe that Baal
wants Jack's DNA so he can integrate it into a clone's genetic
structure. Once he does that, he could operate any Ancient device he got
his hands on. The only way he can do that is if he has a donor - willing
or not."
Sam and Jack's eyes met. "And that would be me, Sam," Jack whispered.
Her eyes widened. "And you're okay with this?"
He shrugged, "Not
exactly, but there doesn't seem to be any other choice."
"Can't Thor do something
- take you someplace safe until we take care of Baal?"
Jack eased his hand from
hers, leaving her feeling bereft. "What would you have me do, Sam? Run
away and hide?" He looked away from her. "I thought you knew me better
than that."
She touched his shoulder
to get his attention. "But you've already given so much. Don't you
deserve to have a life?" She paused. "Don't we? Now that I've found you,
I don't want to lose you - and what we have. Is that so wrong?"
"Do you need some time alone?" Hayes asked.
Sam jumped; she'd become
so involved with her feelings that she'd forgotten where she was. Holy
Hannah - that was a first.
"If you don't mind?" Jack said.
"I believe I could use a
breath of fresh air, what about the rest of you?" Hayes grinned.
They all nodded, stood
and then followed the President out the door. When it closed, Jack
turned to Sam.
"This isn't what I
planned at all, Sam. I hope you know that."
"So you were conned into it?"
Jack cocked his head and
waggled his hand back and forth. "Well, let's just say that the
President laid out my options, and this seemed like the best way to go -
actually, the only way." He huffed out a sigh. "I'm sorry."
She clenched her fists
and hit her thigh with them. "But what about us? I'm tired of putting
our lives on hold."
"I don't know. But do you
really believe we can just wish away this threat? I know better than
that - and so do you." He reached for her hand and enclosed it in his.
"Besides, we'll have tonight."
"But. . . I want more
than that," Sam whispered, her blue eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Jack
reached up and thumbed away the moisture that threatened to leak from
her eyes.
"So do I - and we will -
just not right away." He smiled. "Besides, if you think I'd let anybody,
including that Hair-Baal get in the way of you and me . . . " He waggled
his eyebrows suggestively and patted her hand. "It'll work out, you'll
see."
"I'll hold you to that,
General Jonathan O'Neill," murmured Sam as she leaned forward to kiss
Jack. Their lips brushed and it ignited a tingle in her groin.
"Mmm," Jack agreed as he
nibbled her lips, "Yeah sureyabetcha, Colonel Carter."
They drew apart. Sam's
hungry eyes memorized every detail of his face - for later.
Jack huffed. "Whew, is it
hot in here?" He wiped his forehead with his hand. "Or is it just me?"
"I think it's you - or
rather - us." Sam straightened her blouse and pulled down her skirt
where it'd hitched upward on her thighs.
He reached for her hand
and held it between his own. "We'll have tonight, Sam. I promise."
"You'll be careful?" Sam's breath hitched in her throat.
"Of course, Slime-Baal
will never know what hit him." He smirked. "Shall we let the President
know that it's safe for him to come back into his office?"
"I suppose," Sam sighed
and nibbled her lip. "You'll hold him to tonight?"
"Oh, yeah," Jack breathed.
Then he got up, went to
the door, and opened it. "It's safe to come in now, Mister President."
He grinned, "But we do have a request."
***
Baal snarled as he closed
the communication link with his contact at Area-51. He'd been given bad
news - at the best of times he did not deal well with failure - this was
not the best of times. Thus far his schedule for the conquest of the
Tau'ri home world had met one setback after another.
He ground his teeth together. "Fool!"
Thinking himself alone,
someone touched his shoulder. "Who would dare?" He snarled and captured
the unknown hand in his fist.
The owner of the hand
squealed in outrage. "You forget yourself," Anat warned.
Baal's eyes widened and
flashed as he turned toward the voice. "It is you who forget, my pet,"
he purred like a lion crouched over its kill. "While it is true that you
are my queen. . ."
Anat pouted and walked
her fingers up his shoulder and then to his jaw line where she traced it
with one forefinger. "I grow tired of this world. It is - lacking in -
proper entertainment." She moved to his side, her walk exaggerated her
ample hips. "You received bad news?"
"Yes, our spies inform me
that the Tau'ri are even more backward than I first thought. They have
made no progress in the duplication of the Ancient gene." He paused and
growled low in his throat, "The Trust swore they had achieved this -
apparently they are as unreliable as I had feared; their only true value
is as hosts for our race."
"And our own scientists?"
"Their efforts have been - disappointing."
"Perhaps our scientists
are not truly - motivated?" Her tongue traced her upper lip and then
disappeared inside her mouth. Baal's eyes followed her movements
hungrily.
"And you would provide this - motivation?"
Baal drew her hand to his
lips and studied her face. He had been witness to the depravities she'd
visited upon his minions. It had been most - impressive and instructive
- proof that she was a queen that matched his own tastes.
Anat licked her lips in
anticipation. "It would be my pleasure."
"Then it is agreed. First
we obtain our - test subject. Then we shall depart this world for one
that better suits our - appetites."
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