An Agent Lost (Part I)
Title: An Agent Lost (Part I)
Author: Hatcheter
Rating: Teen-friendly (language and violence comparable to the show)
Summary: Agent’s O’Neill and Weir are summoned to Cairo to search for a pair of missing NSA agents – Daniel
and Sha’re Jackson.
Notes: I was going to post this this afternoon, but it was too large to post in one piece, and I had no time to edit it. So, six hours later than intended, it's finally up. Mad props to
bluebanrigh for betaing.
An Agent Lost
by Hatcheter
Part I
Cairo, Egypt
The morning sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky, raising Cairo’s temperature to sweltering well before noon.
From this heat a man and a woman stepped into the towering office complex of the United States Embassy. They slipped off their sunglasses and quickly surmised their surroundings. The lobby was spacious, all marble and concrete, with a high ceiling that made every footstep echo. Marines were posted conspicuously at several points, impassively observing the newcomers.
The man stood just over six feet, with brown hair just touched with gray and dark eyes that took in his surroundings with bored indifference. His casual demeanor belied tight focus and honed physical ability. The woman next to him was a few inches shorter, and several years his junior. She had curly blond hair and sharp green eyes that sized up and dismissed those that she examined.
They approached the guards inside the main entrance and presented their IDs. “We’re expected.”
The guard allowed them to bypass the metal detectors and pointed to a nearby elevator. Once inside, the man pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into a lock on the control panel. Turning it, he pressed the button for the building’s subbasement.
There was another man waiting for them when the doors opened. He grinned when he saw the newcomers. “Jack O’Neill, you old son of a bitch. How you doing?”
Jack grinned and shook the man’s hand. “Charlie! You look pale. Do they ever let you out of this cave?”
“Rarely,” Charlie confessed.
“This is my partner, Elizabeth Weir,” Jack said. “Elizabeth, this is Charlie Kawalsky, the CIA station chief.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Elizabeth said, shaking Kawalsky’s hand. “I didn’t know you two knew each other,” she added, to Jack.
“I’ve mentioned Charlie before,” Jack replied. “I told you about Korea in ’85, right?”
Elizabeth glanced back at Kawalsky in surprise. “You’re Chucky?”
“Chucky?” He glared at Jack. “What have you been saying about me?”
Jack shrugged. “Nothing that isn’t true.”
“I’d like to talk to you later,” Elizabeth said to Kawalsky. “There are…details of that story that I’m still not clear on,” she added with a sly glance toward Jack.
“Aren’t we here for a reason?” Jack asked, cutting off Kawalsky’s reply.
Charlie immediately sobered. “Right. Two of my people are missing,” he began, leading Jack and Elizabeth past the guards and into the intelligence center. Most of the subbasement was one large room, crammed with cubicles and electronics, and Charlie weaved his way through the maze as he explained the situation.
“NSA Agents Daniel and Sha’re Jackson failed to report yesterday morning. My people were unable to locate them all day, and we were prepared to call in the local authorities. Then, about two in the morning, Daniel just shows up. The guards say that he didn’t talk with anyone, just went straight to his cubicle. He left again half an hour later, and has failed to report in again this morning.”
“So why were we called in?” Jack asked.
“Whatever he did, he buggered up his computer before he left. What data we have figured out so far suggests that he was going through a lot of restricted information while he was here. We can’t figure out exactly what, or what he might have been doing with that data.”
“Why not?”
“He wiped all the system caches, disabled the security and failsafe programs, and then deleted random OS files, just to make things difficult for us.”
Jack turned to Elizabeth with a blank expression on his face.
“He covered his tracks,” she clarified.
“So, how long before you can…uncover his tracks?” Jack asked Kawalsky.
Charlie shrugged. “Hours, days. My tech people are on it, but I don’t know when, or even if they’ll have things figured out.”
“We might be able to help you on that,” Jack said. “Did the Jacksons live nearby?”
“A couple miles from here. I’ve already sent my people over there.”
“I’d like to have a look for myself,” Jack said.
“I can take you,” Charlie replied.
“Elizabeth, you want to see what you can do with that computer?”
“Sure, Jack.”
Kawalsky had a key to the Jacksons’ apartment, a fact that surprised Jack.
“I make all my people leave a key at the office,” he explained. “For situations like this.”
Jack walked through the apartment, examining it carefully. He picked up a framed photograph that sat on an end table. A couple was posing in front of one of the Pyramids. The guy had long brown hair, and wore glasses. His arm was around a beautiful woman with a darker complexion, and long black hair.
“Is this them?” Jack asked.
“Yeah.”
“How does a geek like him get a woman like that?”
Charlie smirked, and shook his head. “Beats the hell outta me, Jack.”
“Sha’re, right? Is she a local?”
“Egyptian-American,” Kawalsky clarified. “Her family moved to the States when she was an infant. She’s actually the senior agent between the two of them.”
“Any chance one or both of them has been turned?”
“None at all,” Kawalsky quickly replied. “They’re the biggest patriots you could ask for.”
“Things can happen,” Jack said, putting the photo back. “Did your people search the entire apartment?”
“Yes.”
“When?” Jack asked, walking into the kitchen.
“About six hours ago.”
“Somebody has been here since then.”
“What? How can you tell?”
“The note stuck on the fridge, addressed to you.”
Kawalsky plucked the note off the fridge. “’I’m sorry for the damage my actions will cause’,” he read. “’My wife is in grave danger, and this is the only way I have to save her’.”
Jack reached into the trashcan and pulled out several scraps of packaging. “Sterile pads, medical tape, antiseptic. I think our boy is injured.”
“It looks like he used a lot of that stuff,” Charlie added. “There’s not much blood, though.”
Jack tossed most of the trash back in the can, keeping one item in his hand. He flipped it over, examining it. “An unused matchbook.”
“Concorde El Salam Hotel,” Kawalsky read. “That’s not the kind of place a government salary can pay for.”
Jack pocketed the matchbook. “Let’s see if he left us anything else.”
It took Elizabeth two hours to learn anything useful from Jackson’s computer. Before crippling the system’s OS, he had meticulously encrypted hundreds of files. After threatening to personally report them to their agency’s director, she convinced the facility’s other NSA agents to let her take the system apart.
Jack arrived half an hour after that to find her hunched over a keyboard, muttering under her breath.
“Have you found anything yet, Sparky?”
Elizabeth blew a lock of blond hair out of her eyes and glared up at him. “Maybe.”
“Well, maybe you ought to share,” Jack replied, handing her a cup of coffee.
Elizabeth took a sip and sighed, arching her back to stretch muscles grown sore from bending over the computer for so long. “It looks like Agent Jackson left something behind for us to find. But he hasn’t made it easy.”
The computer beeped, and Elizabeth leaned forward. “He’s encrypted a lot of files. Top notch NSA ciphers, we’re not going to crack it here without the key.”
Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the matchbook. “Try zero-seven-one-five-nine-five.”
“What is that, a date?” Elizabeth asked as she typed.
Kawalsky snapped his fingers. “It’s their wedding date.”
The screen flared to life, and Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She began typing rapidly, glancing over each screenful of data before checking more. “Oh, my god,” she breathed.
“What is it?”
“This is a catalogue of what he did last night. He was accessing files on undercover agents throughout the eastern hemisphere. He copied all this to another device before he left.”
“He could compromise hundreds of people with that information,” Kawalsky said.
“But,” Elizabeth continued, “he set up an emergency recall order to automatically go out in three days. If followed, those agents would be pulled out immediately.
“And…” she concluded, “he’s told us who is behind this.”
Kawalsky leaned forward and read the file that was left open. “Shak’l. He’s one of the biggest arms dealers in East Africa. We’ve been looking for him for a while. ”
“Looks like Jackson found him,” Jack remarked.
“’Latest sighting, 2pm, 5-13’,” Elizabeth read. “That’s two hours from now.”
“This is too easy.”
“Think it’s a setup?”
Jack shrugged. “Could be.”
“What?” Kawalsky asked.
“Either Agent Jackson wants us to find him,” Elizabeth said, “or he’s trying to divert us from what he’s really up to.”
“Is there anything more you can learn here?” Jack asked. Elizabeth shook her head.
“Then lets go see if Jackson shows up.”
“You don’t think he’s going to be at the Concord, do you?” Kawalsky asked.
“I do,” Jack replied.
“Alright, I’ll get some of my people and-“
“No,” Jack interrupted. “Sorry, but if Jackson does show, and he recognizes anybody, it could spook him. Gimme your car keys.”
“What?”
“We can’t show up there together,” Jack said, holding out his hand. “Elizabeth will take our rental, so I need your car.”
“Not a chance.”
“Oh come on. That was over a decade ago!”
“You blew my car up!”
“Korea?” Elizabeth asked, getting a nod from Kawalsky.
“I’ve forgiven you for putting me in that death trap,” Jack said.
Kawalsky crossed his arms. “Forget it.”
Jack climbed out of the taxi and paid the driver. He scowled at the hotel as he approached the entrance, and tapped his earpiece. “Sparky, are you in?”
“I’ve been here for twenty minutes, Angler,” Elizabeth replied, using Jack’s call sign. “No sign of the target in the casino, or the restaurants.”
“Okay, you head back to the lobby, I’ll make another sweep of the public areas.”
“Copy.”
Jack affected an air of disdain and he strolled into the hotel. He nodded curtly to the staff at the desk as he passed. He slowly made his way through the expansive hotel’s restaurants, watching for Agent Jackson, or the arms dealer, to make an appearance.
“I have him.” Elizabeth declared.
“Where?”
“Agent Jackson just entered, and he’s headed straight back to the bar.”
“Copy, I’m on my way.”
He spotted Elizabeth upon entering, sipping a beverage at the bar. She glanced at him briefly, then looked away. He followed her eyes to a table at the center of the bar, where Daniel Jackson sat by himself, quickly downing a beer.
Jack nodded to Elizabeth. She rose from her seat and headed to the bathroom, passing Jackson on her way. As she approached him she stumbled, and he moved instinctively to catch her. Elizabeth righted herself and mumbled an apology, and walked away.
Jack took a moment to observe the NSA agent. Daniel Jackson frowned bitterly into his glass. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair and clothes where disheveled. Jack doubted that the man had slept in the last two days.
Then, without warning, Daniel’s eyes went wide. He slapped a hand over his mouth and bolted from his seat, running to the bathroom. Jack waited a moment before following him. Elizabeth was waiting just inside the door to the men’s room. Jackson was in one of the stalls, vomiting profusely, while another man was quickly washing his hands.
“Well, that kills the mood,” Jack quipped, slipping an arm around Elizabeth suggestively and watching the other man leave. Once he was gone, Jack locked the door.
Daniel emerged from the bathroom a moment later, staggering to the sink. He took off his glasses and stuck his mouth under the faucet, rinsing. He rose slowly and stared at his reflection in the mirror. It took him a moment to register the presence of the agents at the door. In one smooth motion, he spun around and drew a pistol, pointing it at Jack. Jack and Elizabeth stared coolly back.
“Who are you?” Daniel growled, squinting down the barrel of his gun. “What did you do to me?”
“You know, this isn’t really a good place to go shooting people,” Jack said. “There are guards, and lots of witnesses.”
“At this point, I don’t really care.”
“Daniel, where’s your wife?” Elizabeth asked. “This is about her, isn’t it?”
Jack marveled at the compassion in her voice, even as Jackson turned his weapon towards her.
“We found the files that you copied, and the recall order that you prepared. Daniel, what is gong on?”
“Shak’l has her.”
“The arms dealer,” Jack said. “We saw the file.”
Daniel lowered his pistol. “His men grabbed us two nights ago, right outside our apartment. They didn’t ask questions, they…they just tortured us.”
He lifted his shirt with his free hand, revealing several bandages across his torso. Elizabeth winced as he peeled one back, revealing a severe burn on his stomach. “They let me go, told me to get them this data, or they’d kill her.” He swallowed. “Slowly.”
“So you put hundreds of lives in danger and compromise your country’s national security?” Jack asked.
Daniel snapped his pistol back up. “I am not a traitor. Once I get her back, I’ll take care of these guys. I know where they are, how many of them there are, and what they’ll have to do next. Stay out of my way.”
“We’re here to help you,” Elizabeth said. “Tell us how to help.”
Daniel wavered, breathing hard. “Let me make this contact,” he said. “Then we’ll talk.”
Jack nodded and stepped away from the door. Daniel tucked his pistol back into his belt, hidden beneath his shirt, put his glasses back on, and walked out of the bathroom. Jack followed him out seconds later, Elizabeth a moment after that.
They watched from opposite sides of the bar as a man in dark clothes approached Daniel. They talked briefly, and Daniel handed the man a CD-ROM. He said something that caused the man to jump to his feet, leaning forward to stare Daniel down. Daniel calmly stared back, explaining his terms to the man. He nodded curtly, and marched out.
Jack walked out of the bar, watching the man leave. He fell into step with Elizabeth when she came out.
“What was all that?”
“I think Jackson changed the terms of their deal.”
“I did,” Daniel said, coming up behind the pair. “The disk is encrypted. I told him that I’ll give them the key when I have my wife back.”
“And? Then?” Jack asked.
“They won’t get the key,” Daniel promised.
“Alright, what do we do?”
Forty minutes later, Daniel was leaning against the side of Elizabeth’s rental car. Arms folded, he frowned at the van that slowly made its way down the alley toward him. The vehicle stopped fifty yards away, and two armed men stepped out.
“Agent Jackson,” the driver called.
“Where’s my wife?” Daniel demanded, stepping away from the car.
“She is well,” he replied.
“Give me my wife, and I’ll give you the encryption key.”
The man shook his head. “We had an arrangement, Agent Jackson. You tried to change the terms of that arrangement. This is not acceptable to us. Give us the key, or I will tell my men to kill your wife.”
Daniel glared. “No.”
The driver staggered backwards, falling against the van as a bullet tore through his chest. His companion was hit by another silenced round a second later. Daniel was moving forward before they hit the ground, drawing his pistol. Elizabeth burst out of a side door as he passed it, joining him in the alley. Together they ran to the van.
Elizabeth slowed, drawing her weapon as she reached the door. Moving to the side, she nodded to Daniel. She yanked the door open, quickly covering it with her weapon.
The van was empty.
“Where is she?” Daniel asked, bewildered, as he climbed into the van.
“She’s not here,” Elizabeth said, looking down the alley. She could just see Jack’s head where he was perched atop a building at the end of the alley.
“Jackson knows where she, right?” Jack asked over the radio.
Elizabeth turned to Daniel, who nodded.
“Alright, get in the van.” Jack instructed. “Let’s go pay the arms dealer a visit.”
Elizabeth climbed behind the wheel, while Daniel took the passenger seat. At the end of the alley, Jack climbed into the back of the van. “How long before those guys are missed?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel answered.
The back of the van had no seats, and was filled with wooden crates. Jack pried one open. “Oh, sweet.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked.
“Can you handle a submachine gun, Daniel?” Jack asked, holding up a P90.
“Sure.”
“Alright, where are we going, and what’s the layout?”
Jack moved quickly and quietly toward the warehouse, staying in the shadows cast by the surrounding buildings. He watched the building carefully, looking for entrances, and for guards. He saw none of the latter, not on what was the backside of the warehouse. There was one door, barred and, even from this distance, obviously welded shut.
Jack tapped his earpiece. “Five minutes.”
“Okay,” Elizabeth replied. Jack rolled his eyes. After several years in the field (and under his tutelage), she still had a tendency to forget the proper tactical speak.
After one last check for observers, Jack sprinted toward the locked door. He slid to a stop next to it, pressing his back to the wall. He fixed a block of C4 to the door, inserted a detonator, and moved off. A hundred feet down the wall there was a ladder leading to the roof.
The ladder was raised eight feet off the ground. There was nothing around it that he could move, and he didn’t have time to find something to stand on. He jumped and grabbed the bottom rung. With effort, he pulled himself up to the next rung, and then the next. Two more and he was able to get his feet on the ladder. He hurried up the rest of the way and rolled over the ledge and onto the roof. “I’m getting too old for this,” he panted to himself.
“What?”
Jack rolled over and belly-crawled to a skylight. “What’s your ETA?”
“Thirty seconds to the door.”
Jack slowly opened the skylight and peered down into the warehouse. “I count five, make that six, hostiles in the building. No sign of the agent. Three of them are moving for the door.”
“We’re here.”
Jack watched as two of the men pulled the giant door open, while the third stepped out, weapon ready. He saw the van pull up at the door, and the other two men joined the first, aiming at the van. The first man shouted something at the vehicle.
Jack dove through the skylight, landing on the catwalk just below it. As he went though, he activated his detonator. The door at the back of the warehouse exploded inward, smashing crates and equipment as it flew through the building.
Daniel leapt from the van, quickly gunning down the three men in front of the vehicle when they turned to see what had happened. He charged into the building, heedless of the enemies inside.
Jack raised his own P90 and killed one of the remaining targets while Daniel fired a long burst at the other two, pinning them behind a forklift. Elizabeth ran along the inside edge of the building, shouting for the men to surrender even as she moved to flank them.
For her efforts, they fired at her. She dove for cover as struck the heavy metal wall next to her, showering her with sparks. Jack didn’t hesitate to drop the gunner with a well-aimed round, though he revealed himself to the last target. The man spun around and fired a wild burst towards him. Bullets sparked off the catwalk and Jack dove aside, rolling off onto a crate ten feet below.
Daniel was on the gunman before he could fire again. Charging around the forklift, he kicked the man’s weapon aside and fired a shot into his shoulder. The man fell back, and Daniel knelt on his chest, pressing the barrel of his P90 to the man’s throat.
“Where’s my wife?!” he screamed
The man hissed back insults and spat at him.
Daniel quickly shifted forward and slammed his knee down on the bullet wound. The man screamed and writhed underneath him, trying to shove Daniel off.
Daniel’s head snapped up, and he looked around rapidly. “This is where they tortured us.” He hit the gunman across the head with the butt of his P90, then leapt up. “Sha’re!” he yelled, charging to the back corner of the warehouse.
Jack was on his heels as he burst into what had once been an office. Daniel stopped short just inside the door, and Jack ran into him.
The room was empty.
“She should be here,” Daniel said. He walked into the room, bewildered. “She’s an American citizen. They can’t get her out of Cairo without being noticed.”
“Yes they can.”
They turned to find Elizabeth standing over the gunman, who had sat up. He spat blood on the ground, and grinned. “She’ll be dead soon. But not soon enough, for her. They’ll make her pay for what you’ve done here.”
Daniel moved toward the man, and Jack grabbed him. “Hey!” Jack shouted as Daniel struggled to break free.
“This won’t help her!”
“He knows where Sha’re is!”
“Listen,” Jack insisted. Daniel fell silent, and they heard the sound of distant sirens. “We don’t have time to waste with him. We can still find her, but we have to go. Now.”
Daniel relaxed and nodded. Jack released him, giving him a push toward the entrance. “Get in the van.”
Daniel walked out numbly. Jack moved toward Elizabeth, glaring down at the gunman. “There’s a lot of blood in there,” he said quietly.
“You think she’s already dead?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced at her. “Go start the van up.”
“Jack, what are you…?”
Jack smiled tightly at her. “I’ll be right out.”
Elizabeth shot him a wary glance, and walked away. The gunman moved to stand, and Jack kicked him back down to the ground. “You get one chance to save your own life.”
The gunman sneered at him. “Go to hell.”
Jack sighed. “Could you say something more clichéd?”
Daniel was already in the van’s passenger seat, slumped against the door, when Elizabeth got in. She turned the key in the ignition, and missed the sound of one last gunshot over the roar of the engine.
St. Julian's, Malta
It struck Daniel as ridiculous that, not six hours after being in a shootout in Cairo, he was taking a midnight stroll on a beach on Malta. Agents O’Neill and Weir acted as if it was perfectly ordinary. Never mind the fact that neither had come through the shootout unscathed. Jack’s right arm had been grazed twice, while Elizabeth’s back had been peppered with tiny bits of shrapnel when bullets tore into a metal wall next to her.
Daniel, for all his carelessness, had escaped the fight physically unscathed. Mentally and emotionally, he was all but broken. The plan he had for saving his wife had failed, and what little hope he still had rested on the two strangers he had somehow allied with.
Jack and Elizabeth were a dozen feet ahead of him, casually holding hands as they walked. To any observers, they would have looked like a pair of tourists enjoying the ocean. He was, Daniel realized, playing the role of the third wheel.
A half moon hung low in the sky, and a cool breeze blew in off the sea. It was a place Sha’re would have loved, Daniel thought. Mired in his own thoughts, he didn’t see the man they were approaching until Jack called out.
“Hey, T!”
The tall, powerfully built man smiled as he approached them. In the dim light, Daniel noted close-cropped hair, and a strange mark on the man’s forehead.
“Jack O’Neill, it is good to see you,” the man said, shaking Jack’s hand firmly.
“Ouch,” Jack grimaced. “Easy there, Teal’c,” he said, rolling up his sleeve to show off his bandages.
“You have been busy,” Teal’c remarked. “Elizabeth Weir, I almost did not recognize you. Blond suits you well.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Elizabeth said, smiling as she approached him. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, and the big man gently returned the hug. “I’m dyeing my hair back to normal first chance I get.”
“Who is he?” Teal’c asked, nodding toward where Daniel hung back.
“Daniel Jackson,” Jack replied. “NSA. His wife, also an agent, was abducted by an arms dealer named Shak’l.”
“I know this name,” Teal’c said.
“Do you know where he operates out of? Or where he might have a store of FN P90s?”
“P90s?” Teal’c frowned. “They are not common on the market. I will have my people examine this.”
“We’d appreciate anything you can learn,” Elizabeth said. “If we’re going to save Sha’re Jackson, we’ll need to know something soon.”
“Of course. I would offer to let you stay at my beach house, but I assume your agency already has you set up at a secure location.”
“A hotel, actually,” Jack said. “The Golden Turnip something.”
“The Golden Tulip Vivaldi,” Elizabeth said.
“Your agency treats you well.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s a living.”
“Indeed. I will have what information I can gather by noon tomorrow. Please, come for lunch.”
“We’ll be there,” Jack said.
The suite at the hotel was the finest Daniel had ever been in. Two bedrooms were on either side of a spacious living area. Elizabeth had immediately gone into one of the rooms, while Daniel all but fell onto one of the large, soft couches in the center of the living room.
Jack motioned Daniel toward the other bedroom. “Go take a shower,” he said as he opened a metal case that was sitting on the coffee table when they arrived.
“I thought the station chief said that his people had swept for bugs,” Daniel said, watching Jack pull several electronic devices from the case.
Jack shrugged. “Can’t be too cautious. Go on, hit the shower. I’ll have room service send up something to eat.”
Daniel nodded and headed for the bedroom. A large four-poster bed dominated the room. There was a small duffel bag on the bed, with a tag bearing his name. Daniel opened it to find several changes of clothes, all his size, along with a shaving kit. There was another small bag next to it with bandages and other medical supplies. Grabbing the smaller bag and some clothes, he headed for the bathroom.
He turned the shower on and stepped in, bracing his arms on the wall in front of him. He let hot water beat down on his head, hoping the sound of running water would muffle his sobs.
One image ran though his mind, the one that had haunted him for the last two days: Sha’re, bound and gagged, watching with terrified eyes as their captors explained to Daniel exactly what they would do to her if he failed them.
They had been grabbed off the street, in front of their own apartment building, before either of them was aware they where in danger. Sha’re was tied up and forced to watch as their captors took a small propane torch to his torso.
Daniel peeled the bandages off his stomach and sides, ignoring the pain as hot water directly struck the wounds. They had been careful. The burns were wide, but not deep. His ribs were covered with blisters, some of them already broken. Carefully, he lathered his body with soap, biting his tongue as suds washed painfully across the burns.
It took him twenty minutes to finish showering. The hot water had failed to unravel the cold knot that had settled in his stomach after his last glimpse of his wife. Stepping out of the shower, he carefully dried off and applied new bandages to his burns. Dressing in a t-shirt and slacks, he walked out and into the living area.
Jack was seated on the couch, one foot propped up on the coffee table. A glass of water with several bits of metal in it sat on one end of the table. At the other end was a tray of sandwiches, and a six-pack of beer.
One of the bottles was in front of him, and he held one out to Daniel as soon as he entered the room. Daniel slumped into a chair and took the bottle. He drank half of it immediately.
The only sound came from water running in a sink, coming from Elizabeth’s bathroom. Jack munched on a sandwich, ignoring Daniel as he stared at his half-empty bottle.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Daniel asked after several minutes. “I’ve committed treason. I’ve betrayed my country, compromised dozens of operations, and put hundreds of agents’ lives at risk.”
“All that depends on what happens tomorrow,” Jack said. “If we can find the disk before the arms dealers can decrypt it, you’ll probably get written up.”
Daniel sighed. That was easily an understatement. “And if we don’t?”
Jack shook his head. They still executed traitors. “Don’t dwell on that.”
“That might be better for me,” Daniel quickly replied.
Jack frowned, and took another drink. “Look, Daniel, I understand what you’re going through right now.”
Daniel glared at him. “Do you?” he challenged.
“I lost my son, a few years ago,” Jack said. His eyes grew distant, and he took another long drink. “He died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Daniel offered feebly. There was a look of profound sorrow on Jack’s face, a look that Daniel had seen in the mirror a few minutes earlier.
Jack shook his head, recovering. “What I learned is that you have to take things one day at a time. For you, now, all you need to think about is the fact that your wife could still be alive. Tomorrow, well, later this morning, we’ll find out who those arms dealers were working for.”
“And after that?”
“We play it by ear.”
“That’s how we generally do things,” Elizabeth said, walking into the room. She wore shorts and a t-shirt, and was busy toweling her hair. Daniel blinked in surprise when she let the towel fall away from her head. Her formerly blond hair was now dark brown.
“Went back to your normal color,” Jack observed.
“I told you I wasn’t staying blond,” she replied.
Jack shrugged. “It looked pretty good on you.”
Elizabeth smirked. “Why? Did I remind you of someone?”
Jack frowned, confused. “What?”
“Maybe a certain technician?”
He snorted. “Hardly. And haven’t I mentioned that I like curls, more than any one hair color?”
“Like the new girl who just transferred in from the CIA?”
“You are impossible,” Jack grumbled, glaring at Elizabeth.
She laughed and sat on the couch next to him, picking up the glass of water. “They missed a few bugs?”
“At least one of those is CIA issue,” Jack said. “I think the local station chief is suspicious of who we really work for.”
“You’re not CIA?” Daniel asked, surprised.
“We are,” Jack replied. “Or were. We work in another organization, now. We could tell you about it, but then we’d have to kill you,” Jack smiled.
Daniel shrugged and gulped down the rest of his beer.
“Go take a shower, Jack,” Elizabeth said, slapping him on the leg.
Grumbling, Jack downed the rest of his beer and stood. Elizabeth grabbed a sandwich off the tray as he walked to the room she had emerged from.
“You need to eat something,” she said, eyeing the empty bottle in front of Daniel, and the fresh one he grabbed.
“Why?”
Sighing, she leaned forward and held her sandwich out to Daniel. The NSA agent stared at her for a moment before taking it. He took a bite and chewed mechanically, washing it down with another sip of beer.
Elizabeth took another sandwich and her own bottle. “She wouldn’t want you to shut down.”
Daniel “hmm”ed, and continued eating. He was starting on his third beer before he was half finished with the sandwich.
Elizabeth ate quietly, watching Daniel out of the corner of her eye. He was eating and drinking by rote, staring at nothing and completely ignoring her presence. She let him be. She had seen Jack O’Neill go through the death of his son, had watched him drown his pain in work or alcohol for the better part of a year. At times, she felt that he was hoping one or the other would kill him. Through it, she did her best to encourage him, support him, and keep him from doing a few especially dumb things during their missions. Eventually, he started to accept what had happened, and if he hadn’t stopped hurting, he had at least learned to live with his pain.
Elizabeth finished her sandwich and stood up. “You should get some sleep, Daniel.”
Daniel didn’t acknowledge her suggestion and she turned away from him.
“I just wish…” he began.
Elizabeth paused, turning to look at him.
“I’ve never felt so helpless before. I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll get through this,” Elizabeth said. “She’d want you to get through this, right?”
Daniel nodded.
“We’ll find who did this, and she’ll get justice. I promise that.”
Elizabeth turned and walked into her bedroom, closing the door.
Daniel finished his beer, then turned out the lights and went into his room. He pulled back the blankets and climbed into bed.
Ten minutes later, he was back in the center room, opening the last beer. The bed was large, and too empty.
Daniel sat in the darkness and sipped his beer, ignoring the sounds of quiet lovemaking coming from the other bedroom.
On to Part II.
Author: Hatcheter
Rating: Teen-friendly (language and violence comparable to the show)
Summary: Agent’s O’Neill and Weir are summoned to Cairo to search for a pair of missing NSA agents – Daniel
and Sha’re Jackson.
Notes: I was going to post this this afternoon, but it was too large to post in one piece, and I had no time to edit it. So, six hours later than intended, it's finally up. Mad props to
bluebanrigh for betaing.by Hatcheter
Part I
Cairo, Egypt
The morning sun shone brightly in a cloudless sky, raising Cairo’s temperature to sweltering well before noon.
From this heat a man and a woman stepped into the towering office complex of the United States Embassy. They slipped off their sunglasses and quickly surmised their surroundings. The lobby was spacious, all marble and concrete, with a high ceiling that made every footstep echo. Marines were posted conspicuously at several points, impassively observing the newcomers.
The man stood just over six feet, with brown hair just touched with gray and dark eyes that took in his surroundings with bored indifference. His casual demeanor belied tight focus and honed physical ability. The woman next to him was a few inches shorter, and several years his junior. She had curly blond hair and sharp green eyes that sized up and dismissed those that she examined.
They approached the guards inside the main entrance and presented their IDs. “We’re expected.”
The guard allowed them to bypass the metal detectors and pointed to a nearby elevator. Once inside, the man pulled a key from his pocket and inserted it into a lock on the control panel. Turning it, he pressed the button for the building’s subbasement.
There was another man waiting for them when the doors opened. He grinned when he saw the newcomers. “Jack O’Neill, you old son of a bitch. How you doing?”
Jack grinned and shook the man’s hand. “Charlie! You look pale. Do they ever let you out of this cave?”
“Rarely,” Charlie confessed.
“This is my partner, Elizabeth Weir,” Jack said. “Elizabeth, this is Charlie Kawalsky, the CIA station chief.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Elizabeth said, shaking Kawalsky’s hand. “I didn’t know you two knew each other,” she added, to Jack.
“I’ve mentioned Charlie before,” Jack replied. “I told you about Korea in ’85, right?”
Elizabeth glanced back at Kawalsky in surprise. “You’re Chucky?”
“Chucky?” He glared at Jack. “What have you been saying about me?”
Jack shrugged. “Nothing that isn’t true.”
“I’d like to talk to you later,” Elizabeth said to Kawalsky. “There are…details of that story that I’m still not clear on,” she added with a sly glance toward Jack.
“Aren’t we here for a reason?” Jack asked, cutting off Kawalsky’s reply.
Charlie immediately sobered. “Right. Two of my people are missing,” he began, leading Jack and Elizabeth past the guards and into the intelligence center. Most of the subbasement was one large room, crammed with cubicles and electronics, and Charlie weaved his way through the maze as he explained the situation.
“NSA Agents Daniel and Sha’re Jackson failed to report yesterday morning. My people were unable to locate them all day, and we were prepared to call in the local authorities. Then, about two in the morning, Daniel just shows up. The guards say that he didn’t talk with anyone, just went straight to his cubicle. He left again half an hour later, and has failed to report in again this morning.”
“So why were we called in?” Jack asked.
“Whatever he did, he buggered up his computer before he left. What data we have figured out so far suggests that he was going through a lot of restricted information while he was here. We can’t figure out exactly what, or what he might have been doing with that data.”
“Why not?”
“He wiped all the system caches, disabled the security and failsafe programs, and then deleted random OS files, just to make things difficult for us.”
Jack turned to Elizabeth with a blank expression on his face.
“He covered his tracks,” she clarified.
“So, how long before you can…uncover his tracks?” Jack asked Kawalsky.
Charlie shrugged. “Hours, days. My tech people are on it, but I don’t know when, or even if they’ll have things figured out.”
“We might be able to help you on that,” Jack said. “Did the Jacksons live nearby?”
“A couple miles from here. I’ve already sent my people over there.”
“I’d like to have a look for myself,” Jack said.
“I can take you,” Charlie replied.
“Elizabeth, you want to see what you can do with that computer?”
“Sure, Jack.”
Kawalsky had a key to the Jacksons’ apartment, a fact that surprised Jack.
“I make all my people leave a key at the office,” he explained. “For situations like this.”
Jack walked through the apartment, examining it carefully. He picked up a framed photograph that sat on an end table. A couple was posing in front of one of the Pyramids. The guy had long brown hair, and wore glasses. His arm was around a beautiful woman with a darker complexion, and long black hair.
“Is this them?” Jack asked.
“Yeah.”
“How does a geek like him get a woman like that?”
Charlie smirked, and shook his head. “Beats the hell outta me, Jack.”
“Sha’re, right? Is she a local?”
“Egyptian-American,” Kawalsky clarified. “Her family moved to the States when she was an infant. She’s actually the senior agent between the two of them.”
“Any chance one or both of them has been turned?”
“None at all,” Kawalsky quickly replied. “They’re the biggest patriots you could ask for.”
“Things can happen,” Jack said, putting the photo back. “Did your people search the entire apartment?”
“Yes.”
“When?” Jack asked, walking into the kitchen.
“About six hours ago.”
“Somebody has been here since then.”
“What? How can you tell?”
“The note stuck on the fridge, addressed to you.”
Kawalsky plucked the note off the fridge. “’I’m sorry for the damage my actions will cause’,” he read. “’My wife is in grave danger, and this is the only way I have to save her’.”
Jack reached into the trashcan and pulled out several scraps of packaging. “Sterile pads, medical tape, antiseptic. I think our boy is injured.”
“It looks like he used a lot of that stuff,” Charlie added. “There’s not much blood, though.”
Jack tossed most of the trash back in the can, keeping one item in his hand. He flipped it over, examining it. “An unused matchbook.”
“Concorde El Salam Hotel,” Kawalsky read. “That’s not the kind of place a government salary can pay for.”
Jack pocketed the matchbook. “Let’s see if he left us anything else.”
It took Elizabeth two hours to learn anything useful from Jackson’s computer. Before crippling the system’s OS, he had meticulously encrypted hundreds of files. After threatening to personally report them to their agency’s director, she convinced the facility’s other NSA agents to let her take the system apart.
Jack arrived half an hour after that to find her hunched over a keyboard, muttering under her breath.
“Have you found anything yet, Sparky?”
Elizabeth blew a lock of blond hair out of her eyes and glared up at him. “Maybe.”
“Well, maybe you ought to share,” Jack replied, handing her a cup of coffee.
Elizabeth took a sip and sighed, arching her back to stretch muscles grown sore from bending over the computer for so long. “It looks like Agent Jackson left something behind for us to find. But he hasn’t made it easy.”
The computer beeped, and Elizabeth leaned forward. “He’s encrypted a lot of files. Top notch NSA ciphers, we’re not going to crack it here without the key.”
Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the matchbook. “Try zero-seven-one-five-nine-five.”
“What is that, a date?” Elizabeth asked as she typed.
Kawalsky snapped his fingers. “It’s their wedding date.”
The screen flared to life, and Elizabeth’s eyes widened. She began typing rapidly, glancing over each screenful of data before checking more. “Oh, my god,” she breathed.
“What is it?”
“This is a catalogue of what he did last night. He was accessing files on undercover agents throughout the eastern hemisphere. He copied all this to another device before he left.”
“He could compromise hundreds of people with that information,” Kawalsky said.
“But,” Elizabeth continued, “he set up an emergency recall order to automatically go out in three days. If followed, those agents would be pulled out immediately.
“And…” she concluded, “he’s told us who is behind this.”
Kawalsky leaned forward and read the file that was left open. “Shak’l. He’s one of the biggest arms dealers in East Africa. We’ve been looking for him for a while. ”
“Looks like Jackson found him,” Jack remarked.
“’Latest sighting, 2pm, 5-13’,” Elizabeth read. “That’s two hours from now.”
“This is too easy.”
“Think it’s a setup?”
Jack shrugged. “Could be.”
“What?” Kawalsky asked.
“Either Agent Jackson wants us to find him,” Elizabeth said, “or he’s trying to divert us from what he’s really up to.”
“Is there anything more you can learn here?” Jack asked. Elizabeth shook her head.
“Then lets go see if Jackson shows up.”
“You don’t think he’s going to be at the Concord, do you?” Kawalsky asked.
“I do,” Jack replied.
“Alright, I’ll get some of my people and-“
“No,” Jack interrupted. “Sorry, but if Jackson does show, and he recognizes anybody, it could spook him. Gimme your car keys.”
“What?”
“We can’t show up there together,” Jack said, holding out his hand. “Elizabeth will take our rental, so I need your car.”
“Not a chance.”
“Oh come on. That was over a decade ago!”
“You blew my car up!”
“Korea?” Elizabeth asked, getting a nod from Kawalsky.
“I’ve forgiven you for putting me in that death trap,” Jack said.
Kawalsky crossed his arms. “Forget it.”
Jack climbed out of the taxi and paid the driver. He scowled at the hotel as he approached the entrance, and tapped his earpiece. “Sparky, are you in?”
“I’ve been here for twenty minutes, Angler,” Elizabeth replied, using Jack’s call sign. “No sign of the target in the casino, or the restaurants.”
“Okay, you head back to the lobby, I’ll make another sweep of the public areas.”
“Copy.”
Jack affected an air of disdain and he strolled into the hotel. He nodded curtly to the staff at the desk as he passed. He slowly made his way through the expansive hotel’s restaurants, watching for Agent Jackson, or the arms dealer, to make an appearance.
“I have him.” Elizabeth declared.
“Where?”
“Agent Jackson just entered, and he’s headed straight back to the bar.”
“Copy, I’m on my way.”
He spotted Elizabeth upon entering, sipping a beverage at the bar. She glanced at him briefly, then looked away. He followed her eyes to a table at the center of the bar, where Daniel Jackson sat by himself, quickly downing a beer.
Jack nodded to Elizabeth. She rose from her seat and headed to the bathroom, passing Jackson on her way. As she approached him she stumbled, and he moved instinctively to catch her. Elizabeth righted herself and mumbled an apology, and walked away.
Jack took a moment to observe the NSA agent. Daniel Jackson frowned bitterly into his glass. His eyes were bloodshot, and his hair and clothes where disheveled. Jack doubted that the man had slept in the last two days.
Then, without warning, Daniel’s eyes went wide. He slapped a hand over his mouth and bolted from his seat, running to the bathroom. Jack waited a moment before following him. Elizabeth was waiting just inside the door to the men’s room. Jackson was in one of the stalls, vomiting profusely, while another man was quickly washing his hands.
“Well, that kills the mood,” Jack quipped, slipping an arm around Elizabeth suggestively and watching the other man leave. Once he was gone, Jack locked the door.
Daniel emerged from the bathroom a moment later, staggering to the sink. He took off his glasses and stuck his mouth under the faucet, rinsing. He rose slowly and stared at his reflection in the mirror. It took him a moment to register the presence of the agents at the door. In one smooth motion, he spun around and drew a pistol, pointing it at Jack. Jack and Elizabeth stared coolly back.
“Who are you?” Daniel growled, squinting down the barrel of his gun. “What did you do to me?”
“You know, this isn’t really a good place to go shooting people,” Jack said. “There are guards, and lots of witnesses.”
“At this point, I don’t really care.”
“Daniel, where’s your wife?” Elizabeth asked. “This is about her, isn’t it?”
Jack marveled at the compassion in her voice, even as Jackson turned his weapon towards her.
“We found the files that you copied, and the recall order that you prepared. Daniel, what is gong on?”
“Shak’l has her.”
“The arms dealer,” Jack said. “We saw the file.”
Daniel lowered his pistol. “His men grabbed us two nights ago, right outside our apartment. They didn’t ask questions, they…they just tortured us.”
He lifted his shirt with his free hand, revealing several bandages across his torso. Elizabeth winced as he peeled one back, revealing a severe burn on his stomach. “They let me go, told me to get them this data, or they’d kill her.” He swallowed. “Slowly.”
“So you put hundreds of lives in danger and compromise your country’s national security?” Jack asked.
Daniel snapped his pistol back up. “I am not a traitor. Once I get her back, I’ll take care of these guys. I know where they are, how many of them there are, and what they’ll have to do next. Stay out of my way.”
“We’re here to help you,” Elizabeth said. “Tell us how to help.”
Daniel wavered, breathing hard. “Let me make this contact,” he said. “Then we’ll talk.”
Jack nodded and stepped away from the door. Daniel tucked his pistol back into his belt, hidden beneath his shirt, put his glasses back on, and walked out of the bathroom. Jack followed him out seconds later, Elizabeth a moment after that.
They watched from opposite sides of the bar as a man in dark clothes approached Daniel. They talked briefly, and Daniel handed the man a CD-ROM. He said something that caused the man to jump to his feet, leaning forward to stare Daniel down. Daniel calmly stared back, explaining his terms to the man. He nodded curtly, and marched out.
Jack walked out of the bar, watching the man leave. He fell into step with Elizabeth when she came out.
“What was all that?”
“I think Jackson changed the terms of their deal.”
“I did,” Daniel said, coming up behind the pair. “The disk is encrypted. I told him that I’ll give them the key when I have my wife back.”
“And? Then?” Jack asked.
“They won’t get the key,” Daniel promised.
“Alright, what do we do?”
Forty minutes later, Daniel was leaning against the side of Elizabeth’s rental car. Arms folded, he frowned at the van that slowly made its way down the alley toward him. The vehicle stopped fifty yards away, and two armed men stepped out.
“Agent Jackson,” the driver called.
“Where’s my wife?” Daniel demanded, stepping away from the car.
“She is well,” he replied.
“Give me my wife, and I’ll give you the encryption key.”
The man shook his head. “We had an arrangement, Agent Jackson. You tried to change the terms of that arrangement. This is not acceptable to us. Give us the key, or I will tell my men to kill your wife.”
Daniel glared. “No.”
The driver staggered backwards, falling against the van as a bullet tore through his chest. His companion was hit by another silenced round a second later. Daniel was moving forward before they hit the ground, drawing his pistol. Elizabeth burst out of a side door as he passed it, joining him in the alley. Together they ran to the van.
Elizabeth slowed, drawing her weapon as she reached the door. Moving to the side, she nodded to Daniel. She yanked the door open, quickly covering it with her weapon.
The van was empty.
“Where is she?” Daniel asked, bewildered, as he climbed into the van.
“She’s not here,” Elizabeth said, looking down the alley. She could just see Jack’s head where he was perched atop a building at the end of the alley.
“Jackson knows where she, right?” Jack asked over the radio.
Elizabeth turned to Daniel, who nodded.
“Alright, get in the van.” Jack instructed. “Let’s go pay the arms dealer a visit.”
Elizabeth climbed behind the wheel, while Daniel took the passenger seat. At the end of the alley, Jack climbed into the back of the van. “How long before those guys are missed?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel answered.
The back of the van had no seats, and was filled with wooden crates. Jack pried one open. “Oh, sweet.”
“What?” Elizabeth asked.
“Can you handle a submachine gun, Daniel?” Jack asked, holding up a P90.
“Sure.”
“Alright, where are we going, and what’s the layout?”
Jack moved quickly and quietly toward the warehouse, staying in the shadows cast by the surrounding buildings. He watched the building carefully, looking for entrances, and for guards. He saw none of the latter, not on what was the backside of the warehouse. There was one door, barred and, even from this distance, obviously welded shut.
Jack tapped his earpiece. “Five minutes.”
“Okay,” Elizabeth replied. Jack rolled his eyes. After several years in the field (and under his tutelage), she still had a tendency to forget the proper tactical speak.
After one last check for observers, Jack sprinted toward the locked door. He slid to a stop next to it, pressing his back to the wall. He fixed a block of C4 to the door, inserted a detonator, and moved off. A hundred feet down the wall there was a ladder leading to the roof.
The ladder was raised eight feet off the ground. There was nothing around it that he could move, and he didn’t have time to find something to stand on. He jumped and grabbed the bottom rung. With effort, he pulled himself up to the next rung, and then the next. Two more and he was able to get his feet on the ladder. He hurried up the rest of the way and rolled over the ledge and onto the roof. “I’m getting too old for this,” he panted to himself.
“What?”
Jack rolled over and belly-crawled to a skylight. “What’s your ETA?”
“Thirty seconds to the door.”
Jack slowly opened the skylight and peered down into the warehouse. “I count five, make that six, hostiles in the building. No sign of the agent. Three of them are moving for the door.”
“We’re here.”
Jack watched as two of the men pulled the giant door open, while the third stepped out, weapon ready. He saw the van pull up at the door, and the other two men joined the first, aiming at the van. The first man shouted something at the vehicle.
Jack dove through the skylight, landing on the catwalk just below it. As he went though, he activated his detonator. The door at the back of the warehouse exploded inward, smashing crates and equipment as it flew through the building.
Daniel leapt from the van, quickly gunning down the three men in front of the vehicle when they turned to see what had happened. He charged into the building, heedless of the enemies inside.
Jack raised his own P90 and killed one of the remaining targets while Daniel fired a long burst at the other two, pinning them behind a forklift. Elizabeth ran along the inside edge of the building, shouting for the men to surrender even as she moved to flank them.
For her efforts, they fired at her. She dove for cover as struck the heavy metal wall next to her, showering her with sparks. Jack didn’t hesitate to drop the gunner with a well-aimed round, though he revealed himself to the last target. The man spun around and fired a wild burst towards him. Bullets sparked off the catwalk and Jack dove aside, rolling off onto a crate ten feet below.
Daniel was on the gunman before he could fire again. Charging around the forklift, he kicked the man’s weapon aside and fired a shot into his shoulder. The man fell back, and Daniel knelt on his chest, pressing the barrel of his P90 to the man’s throat.
“Where’s my wife?!” he screamed
The man hissed back insults and spat at him.
Daniel quickly shifted forward and slammed his knee down on the bullet wound. The man screamed and writhed underneath him, trying to shove Daniel off.
Daniel’s head snapped up, and he looked around rapidly. “This is where they tortured us.” He hit the gunman across the head with the butt of his P90, then leapt up. “Sha’re!” he yelled, charging to the back corner of the warehouse.
Jack was on his heels as he burst into what had once been an office. Daniel stopped short just inside the door, and Jack ran into him.
The room was empty.
“She should be here,” Daniel said. He walked into the room, bewildered. “She’s an American citizen. They can’t get her out of Cairo without being noticed.”
“Yes they can.”
They turned to find Elizabeth standing over the gunman, who had sat up. He spat blood on the ground, and grinned. “She’ll be dead soon. But not soon enough, for her. They’ll make her pay for what you’ve done here.”
Daniel moved toward the man, and Jack grabbed him. “Hey!” Jack shouted as Daniel struggled to break free.
“This won’t help her!”
“He knows where Sha’re is!”
“Listen,” Jack insisted. Daniel fell silent, and they heard the sound of distant sirens. “We don’t have time to waste with him. We can still find her, but we have to go. Now.”
Daniel relaxed and nodded. Jack released him, giving him a push toward the entrance. “Get in the van.”
Daniel walked out numbly. Jack moved toward Elizabeth, glaring down at the gunman. “There’s a lot of blood in there,” he said quietly.
“You think she’s already dead?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced at her. “Go start the van up.”
“Jack, what are you…?”
Jack smiled tightly at her. “I’ll be right out.”
Elizabeth shot him a wary glance, and walked away. The gunman moved to stand, and Jack kicked him back down to the ground. “You get one chance to save your own life.”
The gunman sneered at him. “Go to hell.”
Jack sighed. “Could you say something more clichéd?”
Daniel was already in the van’s passenger seat, slumped against the door, when Elizabeth got in. She turned the key in the ignition, and missed the sound of one last gunshot over the roar of the engine.
St. Julian's, Malta
It struck Daniel as ridiculous that, not six hours after being in a shootout in Cairo, he was taking a midnight stroll on a beach on Malta. Agents O’Neill and Weir acted as if it was perfectly ordinary. Never mind the fact that neither had come through the shootout unscathed. Jack’s right arm had been grazed twice, while Elizabeth’s back had been peppered with tiny bits of shrapnel when bullets tore into a metal wall next to her.
Daniel, for all his carelessness, had escaped the fight physically unscathed. Mentally and emotionally, he was all but broken. The plan he had for saving his wife had failed, and what little hope he still had rested on the two strangers he had somehow allied with.
Jack and Elizabeth were a dozen feet ahead of him, casually holding hands as they walked. To any observers, they would have looked like a pair of tourists enjoying the ocean. He was, Daniel realized, playing the role of the third wheel.
A half moon hung low in the sky, and a cool breeze blew in off the sea. It was a place Sha’re would have loved, Daniel thought. Mired in his own thoughts, he didn’t see the man they were approaching until Jack called out.
“Hey, T!”
The tall, powerfully built man smiled as he approached them. In the dim light, Daniel noted close-cropped hair, and a strange mark on the man’s forehead.
“Jack O’Neill, it is good to see you,” the man said, shaking Jack’s hand firmly.
“Ouch,” Jack grimaced. “Easy there, Teal’c,” he said, rolling up his sleeve to show off his bandages.
“You have been busy,” Teal’c remarked. “Elizabeth Weir, I almost did not recognize you. Blond suits you well.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Elizabeth said, smiling as she approached him. She stood on her toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, and the big man gently returned the hug. “I’m dyeing my hair back to normal first chance I get.”
“Who is he?” Teal’c asked, nodding toward where Daniel hung back.
“Daniel Jackson,” Jack replied. “NSA. His wife, also an agent, was abducted by an arms dealer named Shak’l.”
“I know this name,” Teal’c said.
“Do you know where he operates out of? Or where he might have a store of FN P90s?”
“P90s?” Teal’c frowned. “They are not common on the market. I will have my people examine this.”
“We’d appreciate anything you can learn,” Elizabeth said. “If we’re going to save Sha’re Jackson, we’ll need to know something soon.”
“Of course. I would offer to let you stay at my beach house, but I assume your agency already has you set up at a secure location.”
“A hotel, actually,” Jack said. “The Golden Turnip something.”
“The Golden Tulip Vivaldi,” Elizabeth said.
“Your agency treats you well.”
Jack shrugged. “It’s a living.”
“Indeed. I will have what information I can gather by noon tomorrow. Please, come for lunch.”
“We’ll be there,” Jack said.
The suite at the hotel was the finest Daniel had ever been in. Two bedrooms were on either side of a spacious living area. Elizabeth had immediately gone into one of the rooms, while Daniel all but fell onto one of the large, soft couches in the center of the living room.
Jack motioned Daniel toward the other bedroom. “Go take a shower,” he said as he opened a metal case that was sitting on the coffee table when they arrived.
“I thought the station chief said that his people had swept for bugs,” Daniel said, watching Jack pull several electronic devices from the case.
Jack shrugged. “Can’t be too cautious. Go on, hit the shower. I’ll have room service send up something to eat.”
Daniel nodded and headed for the bedroom. A large four-poster bed dominated the room. There was a small duffel bag on the bed, with a tag bearing his name. Daniel opened it to find several changes of clothes, all his size, along with a shaving kit. There was another small bag next to it with bandages and other medical supplies. Grabbing the smaller bag and some clothes, he headed for the bathroom.
He turned the shower on and stepped in, bracing his arms on the wall in front of him. He let hot water beat down on his head, hoping the sound of running water would muffle his sobs.
One image ran though his mind, the one that had haunted him for the last two days: Sha’re, bound and gagged, watching with terrified eyes as their captors explained to Daniel exactly what they would do to her if he failed them.
They had been grabbed off the street, in front of their own apartment building, before either of them was aware they where in danger. Sha’re was tied up and forced to watch as their captors took a small propane torch to his torso.
Daniel peeled the bandages off his stomach and sides, ignoring the pain as hot water directly struck the wounds. They had been careful. The burns were wide, but not deep. His ribs were covered with blisters, some of them already broken. Carefully, he lathered his body with soap, biting his tongue as suds washed painfully across the burns.
It took him twenty minutes to finish showering. The hot water had failed to unravel the cold knot that had settled in his stomach after his last glimpse of his wife. Stepping out of the shower, he carefully dried off and applied new bandages to his burns. Dressing in a t-shirt and slacks, he walked out and into the living area.
Jack was seated on the couch, one foot propped up on the coffee table. A glass of water with several bits of metal in it sat on one end of the table. At the other end was a tray of sandwiches, and a six-pack of beer.
One of the bottles was in front of him, and he held one out to Daniel as soon as he entered the room. Daniel slumped into a chair and took the bottle. He drank half of it immediately.
The only sound came from water running in a sink, coming from Elizabeth’s bathroom. Jack munched on a sandwich, ignoring Daniel as he stared at his half-empty bottle.
“What’s going to happen to me?” Daniel asked after several minutes. “I’ve committed treason. I’ve betrayed my country, compromised dozens of operations, and put hundreds of agents’ lives at risk.”
“All that depends on what happens tomorrow,” Jack said. “If we can find the disk before the arms dealers can decrypt it, you’ll probably get written up.”
Daniel sighed. That was easily an understatement. “And if we don’t?”
Jack shook his head. They still executed traitors. “Don’t dwell on that.”
“That might be better for me,” Daniel quickly replied.
Jack frowned, and took another drink. “Look, Daniel, I understand what you’re going through right now.”
Daniel glared at him. “Do you?” he challenged.
“I lost my son, a few years ago,” Jack said. His eyes grew distant, and he took another long drink. “He died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”
“I…I’m sorry,” Daniel offered feebly. There was a look of profound sorrow on Jack’s face, a look that Daniel had seen in the mirror a few minutes earlier.
Jack shook his head, recovering. “What I learned is that you have to take things one day at a time. For you, now, all you need to think about is the fact that your wife could still be alive. Tomorrow, well, later this morning, we’ll find out who those arms dealers were working for.”
“And after that?”
“We play it by ear.”
“That’s how we generally do things,” Elizabeth said, walking into the room. She wore shorts and a t-shirt, and was busy toweling her hair. Daniel blinked in surprise when she let the towel fall away from her head. Her formerly blond hair was now dark brown.
“Went back to your normal color,” Jack observed.
“I told you I wasn’t staying blond,” she replied.
Jack shrugged. “It looked pretty good on you.”
Elizabeth smirked. “Why? Did I remind you of someone?”
Jack frowned, confused. “What?”
“Maybe a certain technician?”
He snorted. “Hardly. And haven’t I mentioned that I like curls, more than any one hair color?”
“Like the new girl who just transferred in from the CIA?”
“You are impossible,” Jack grumbled, glaring at Elizabeth.
She laughed and sat on the couch next to him, picking up the glass of water. “They missed a few bugs?”
“At least one of those is CIA issue,” Jack said. “I think the local station chief is suspicious of who we really work for.”
“You’re not CIA?” Daniel asked, surprised.
“We are,” Jack replied. “Or were. We work in another organization, now. We could tell you about it, but then we’d have to kill you,” Jack smiled.
Daniel shrugged and gulped down the rest of his beer.
“Go take a shower, Jack,” Elizabeth said, slapping him on the leg.
Grumbling, Jack downed the rest of his beer and stood. Elizabeth grabbed a sandwich off the tray as he walked to the room she had emerged from.
“You need to eat something,” she said, eyeing the empty bottle in front of Daniel, and the fresh one he grabbed.
“Why?”
Sighing, she leaned forward and held her sandwich out to Daniel. The NSA agent stared at her for a moment before taking it. He took a bite and chewed mechanically, washing it down with another sip of beer.
Elizabeth took another sandwich and her own bottle. “She wouldn’t want you to shut down.”
Daniel “hmm”ed, and continued eating. He was starting on his third beer before he was half finished with the sandwich.
Elizabeth ate quietly, watching Daniel out of the corner of her eye. He was eating and drinking by rote, staring at nothing and completely ignoring her presence. She let him be. She had seen Jack O’Neill go through the death of his son, had watched him drown his pain in work or alcohol for the better part of a year. At times, she felt that he was hoping one or the other would kill him. Through it, she did her best to encourage him, support him, and keep him from doing a few especially dumb things during their missions. Eventually, he started to accept what had happened, and if he hadn’t stopped hurting, he had at least learned to live with his pain.
Elizabeth finished her sandwich and stood up. “You should get some sleep, Daniel.”
Daniel didn’t acknowledge her suggestion and she turned away from him.
“I just wish…” he began.
Elizabeth paused, turning to look at him.
“I’ve never felt so helpless before. I don’t know what to do.”
“You’ll get through this,” Elizabeth said. “She’d want you to get through this, right?”
Daniel nodded.
“We’ll find who did this, and she’ll get justice. I promise that.”
Elizabeth turned and walked into her bedroom, closing the door.
Daniel finished his beer, then turned out the lights and went into his room. He pulled back the blankets and climbed into bed.
Ten minutes later, he was back in the center room, opening the last beer. The bed was large, and too empty.
Daniel sat in the darkness and sipped his beer, ignoring the sounds of quiet lovemaking coming from the other bedroom.
On to Part II.