I Dreamed of Abydos Last Night
Part 4
Chapter 18
"Elena?" Daniel whispered, reaching out his hand and finding nothing but air. Cool, dry air. He opened his eyes to see the steel-gray ceiling and the bright, artificial light and closed them again.
"Daniel Jackson? Does something disturb you? Do you still experience pain?"
Daniel turned his head toward the sound of the voice and saw Teal'c walking toward him, a welcome phantom from a previous life, and he felt a strange rush of emotion, joy and despair.
"Teal'c," he said, and just looked at his friend for a moment. "Teal'c." He pushed himself up and swung his legs around to the side of the platform, then swayed a little dizzily. Teal'c took his arm to steady him, and Daniel smiled a little at the solid grasp.
"I'm fine," he said, clearing his hoarse throat. "I was just a little disoriented, I think." He reached for a cup of water on a table at his side, grimacing at the plate of multicolored cubes that sat next to it. He supposed creating food palatable to human tastes was not high on the beleaguered race's agenda.
He took a long drink of the surprisingly cool water, then asked, "How long was I out?"
"Ten-and-one-quarter hours," Teal'c said, sitting down before Daniel on the rectangular block that passed for a seat on an Asgard ship.
Daniel nodded tiredly and looked around. "Where's Sam?" he asked, trying to sound casual, but something of his anxiety must have shown in his voice. So much had happened, so fast, that he still wasn't sure, absolutely, what was real and what was not.
"Do not be concerned. Major Carter is here. She is merely resting. She still has not fully recovered from . . ."—and here Teal'c seemed to be searching for the right words—"...what has happened."
"What did happen, Teal'c?" Daniel asked quietly.
"Major Carter and I wished to ask you the same question, Daniel Jackson. Thor has told us that you were falling when he brought you aboard, and your injuries were quite obviously the result of a brutal assault."
Daniel felt a shiver pass through him as Teal'c's question brought back his nightmare plummet from the helicopter. He could still feel the rough metal of the hatch as his own weight pulled him forward and he desperately grabbed for the edge with his fingertips...
"Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c's voice was filled with concern.
Daniel realized he was gripping the platform he sat on and slowly relaxed his hands and placed them self-consciously on his lap.
"You first, Teal'c," he said.
Teal'c looked at his friend silently, then nodded. "Very well," he said, shifting on the uncomfortable seat, "although there is not much to tell. We flew too close to the black hole and were caught in its gravitational pull. That much of the story I believe you know. However, as is evident, we did not perish. Instead, we were 'rescued' by an Asgard captain named Tyr."
The way Teal'c pronounced the word rescued made it clear that he did not consider what had happened to be an act of kindness.
"Tyr refused to return us to our galaxy or to contact the SGC to inform them—you—that we still lived. He wished us to remain aboard to aid in the battle with the replicators and, eventually, aid in the creation of a weapon to destroy them. There was no respite from the battle for the Asgard or for ourselves. And no rest for Major Carter as she tried to help save the very people who held us captive." He paused and looked toward the doorway as if he could see Sam from where they sat. "These have been long and difficult months for her."
"And for you, Teal'c," Daniel said. His friend had lost weight and looked exhausted still.
Teal'c nodded. "And for me, as well," he acknowledged.
Daniel sighed. "I should have been there, Teal'c. I don't know if I could have changed anything, but I should have been there with you and Sam."
Teal'c looked at Daniel for a long moment. "And I am sorry we were not there for you, Daniel Jackson, and that you were forced to mourn O'Neill's death without us. That must have been most difficult."
Daniel looked down. Seeing Jack's body the way he had, knowing that Jack was never coming back...
"I'm sorry I couldn't save him," he said quietly. "I tried." He looked back at Teal'c. "You have to know I tried..."
Sam and Thor walked into the room then. "We know you did, Daniel," she said. "Of course we do..." Sam hesitated. "How are you feeling, Daniel? Do you think you can tell us what happened? If you don't want to talk about it, I understand, but maybe it would help..." She choked a little on her words and looked away, and Daniel felt his own stab of sorrow as he realized again that she and Teal'c had only just learned of Jack's death, that their grief was still excruciatingly new.
Teal'c gave Sam a gentle look, then turned to Daniel. "Thor told us he was too late to save O'Neill," he said, "but he told us only it was already too late when he arrived. Major Carter and I do not understand how such a thing could have happened. Did the Ancient technology fail?"
Daniel closed his eyes. "No," he said.
Sam blinked back tears. "But then how... "
"They killed him," Daniel said, almost too quietly for the others to hear.
Teal'c's expression darkened. Sam came and stood by Teal'c's side. Thor gave a long, slow blink. "I don't understand, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said, his voice low with anger. "Of whom do you speak?"
"They panicked," Daniel said, still not looking at his friends. "You had hardly been gone a week, but they panicked. Ba'al was on his way, the System Lords were close to finding out the truth about the weapon, the other world leaders were still shocked at how close we'd been to being destroyed by Anubis... The President ordered a medical team to try to revive Jack."
"And you didn't try to stop them?" Sam blurted, then put her hand to her mouth. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Daniel. Of course you did. I know you did everything you could. That must have been..."
"I didn't know," Daniel whispered.
The three stared at him.
"By the time Weir told me, he was already gone." Daniel looked at his friends then, some of the anger he'd felt coming back now too. "I couldn't believe it. I mean, how could they do something so stupid? I'd been begging them to let me go there, to see if there was something in the Ancient records to tell us what to do, but they didn't even do that. They just..."
Daniel stopped talking and sighed. "I didn't really believe it, not really, until Thor and I saw his, saw him..." Daniel closed his eyes, the memory suddenly as vivid as the day it happened.
"Oh, Daniel," Sam said. She took a step closer and wrapped her arms around him. Daniel hugged her back and they stayed like that for long seconds. God, he'd missed his friends.
He let go and sat back a little.
"I didn't think I'd ever see you again either." He looked at Thor. "Any of you. Once I couldn't go back to the SGC, I wasn't even sure they were still looking for you. General Hammond said he would, and I knew he'd try, but how much could he do from Washington? I even..."
Sam interrupted him. "Daniel, wait. What do you mean you couldn't go back to the SGC?"
"I ... You didn't know...?" Daniel asked, surprised. Then he put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes. "No, of course you didn't know. How could you?"
"Sergeant Harriman did appear startled when we told them that you were with us," Teal'c said. "However, we assumed that was because the SGC knew you to be in Brazil."
Daniel's mouth went dry. "You told them I was here?" He glanced around the ship nervously as if expecting SGC personnel to come out of the bulkheads.
Teal'c and Sam looked at each other and back to Daniel.
"Perhaps it is time that you told us your story, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said.
Daniel stared at his friends, trying to process everything that was happening. He knew Thor wouldn't send him back if he told him not to, that he could go anywhere he wanted, even off-world, but would he endanger Sam and Teal'c by not going with them? Was it even safe for Sam and Teal'c to go home? He'd been so relieved to see his friends alive, he'd felt so comforted by their presence, that he hadn't even begun to think about what should happen next.
"Daniel?" Sam asked again, and there was a gentleness in her voice that almost brought tears to his eyes. "What aren't you telling us? What's happened?"
"It's a long story," he said, wondering if there were some way he could avoid telling it.
"For the first time in many cycles, Dr. Jackson, I am not urgently needed elsewhere. This is due in no small part to the efforts of you, Teal'c and Major Carter on our behalf," Thor said. "I believe we have time to hear your 'story.'"
Daniel nodded in defeat. He took two yellow cubes from the plate, and slid off the hard platform and onto the floor and leaned back against its side. "Sit with me?" he said.
Sam shrugged a little, then sat down as well, crossing her legs. They both looked up at Teal'c expectantly, and the big man gave a small smile and lowered himself from the stool to the floor.
And there they were, just like old times.
Almost.
There were no complaints about aching knees or being too old for this, and no suggestion that they break out the marshmallows and light a campfire.
Daniel unconsciously wrapped his arms around his chest and began to talk.
Teal'c listened intently as Daniel spoke, trying to control the anger building inside him. He was aware that his teammate was giving an abbreviated version of events, glossing over the worst parts as was his wont, yet even the scant details provided showed evidence of the deep scars his friend was trying to hide. Teal'c, during those long months fighting the battles of others as little more than a slave, had harbored a hope that Daniel Jackson had found some method of reviving O'Neill without them and that both he and O'Neill were thriving; he and Major Carter had spent many an exhausted moment weaving just such a fantasy. While they both knew that the chances of reviving O'Neill without the help of the Asgard were not good, never in any of his darkest moments had Teal'c imagined that the Tau'ri would so recklessly cause the death of his friend, nor that Daniel Jackson would be abandoned as he was and hunted by the very people he had worked for so many years to protect.
O'Neill had known, however, had understood the dark side of humans and their governments better than anyone, certainly better than Teal'c, even with his long lifetime of experience with evil. O'Neill had known and had reached from the grave to protect Daniel Jackson. And undoubtedly, as Daniel suggested, O'Neill had made plans to protect the rest of his team as well. O'Neill had known.
"...and then they found me," Daniel was saying. He paused as if contemplating what else to add and then gave a small shrug and looked up at Thor, who still stood, listening. "And then you found me."
Teal'c, Sam and Thor were silent, waiting for Daniel to continue. When he didn't, Teal'c asked, "And did these men who captured you indicate their intentions toward you? Was it they who caused your injuries? Did you fall attempting to escape?"
"Their intentions?" Daniel asked. He looked at Thor. "Did Thor tell you where I was falling from?"
"It was from a great height," Thor said.
"How great?" Sam asked.
"He was in midair, approximately 800 meters above the ground."
Teal'c and Sam looked at Daniel in shock. "Daniel?" Sam asked.
"They threw me out," he mumbled, hardly able to say the words without feeling the terror of that moment.
"What?"
"They came for me in a helicopter," he said. "They threw me out." He looked his teammates in the eye and gave a grim smile. "So I guess their intentions were pretty clear."
"God, Daniel," Sam whispered. No one else said a thing. Thor stood without moving, and Teal'c looked ready to murder someone, a vein pulsing angrily in his neck. Sam closed her eyes as if trying to avoid the vision Daniel's confession had raised, and said, with almost a plea in her voice, "It couldn't have been the SGC; they couldn't have known. If they had, they would never have let..."
Teal'c stood up, suddenly, startling them all. "The SGC," he said, uncharacteristically interrupting his teammate, "abandoned Daniel Jackson at the time of his greatest need. Your planet's leaders allowed him to be hunted and nearly murdered, as they murdered O'Neill. The Tau'ri, except for a few, have proven themselves to be yet another race without honor." Teal'c looked pointedly at Thor, then strode from the room.
"Teal'c?" Daniel called, but the big man did not break his stride. Daniel moved to get up, but Sam held up her hand, then pushed herself off the ground. "I'll go," she said. "He gets like this sometimes now. It's just been so hard, and he's so angry. I think hearing all this was just, just..." She waved her hand at a loss for words.
"It's O.K., Sam," Daniel said. "Go. I'm fine here."
Sam turned to Thor. "Thor. I'm sorry. He didn't mean it the way it sounded."
"He has every right to be angry at the Asgard for our actions, Major Carter."
Sam nodded. "I'll be back," she said to Daniel. "I promise. And we'll figure something out. We're together now. We'll figure it out."
"I know," Daniel said, and Sam reached down to touch his arm, then followed Teal'c from the room.
Daniel watched her go, then slumped back against the platform. While he had been running and hiding—playing in the dirt (as Jack would have called it)—and even falling in love, the friends he'd abandoned had been trapped in an endless battle for survival, surrounded by beings who cared nothing for their lives except as tools to be used and discarded. And now he was drawing them into another battle when they deserved nothing more than rest and accolades. Daniel closed his eyes. Already exhaustion was seeping into his bones, as if he hadn't just slept for ten hours. He could feel the vibration of the engines through his back, and he let himself be lulled by the steady rhythm and the silence of the bridge.
"Dr. Jackson," Thor said.
Daniel opened his eyes and looked at Thor.
"I am distressed that my actions on that day led to the unmerited harsh treatment by your government and others. If I had known what would occur, I never would have taken the data and materials from the Ancient outpost. Teal'c is correct. By violating the treaty and leaving you to face the consequences, I acted as dishonorably as Captain Tyr and the others."
Daniel rubbed his eyes, then ran his hand through his hair. "You couldn't have known what would happen, Thor," he said.
"Yet, in my desperation to save my people I acted without thought to the consequences. For that I owe you a grave apology."
Daniel sighed. "Thor, did the information you received help to defeat the replicators?"
"Yes. Without it we would have been destroyed."
"Then, for what it's worth, I'm glad you did what you did, and I'm not sorry I encouraged you to do it. It was the right thing to do. I still believe that."
Thor blinked slowly at Daniel. "Dr. Jackson, you, Teal'c and Major Carter will forever have the gratitude of the Asgard people and most particularly of myself. However you choose to proceed from here, know that I will help in any way I can."
"Thank you, Thor."
Thor walked behind a console then and began waving his hand over various panels. Daniel watched him for a moment, then closed his eyes again and soon drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Chapter 19
"Daniel! ...Daniel!" Someone grabbed his shoulders from the front, and he struck out and tried to scramble backwards, but the way was blocked. He ducked to the side and rolled, kicking out again, and heard the satisfying grunt and whoof of expelled air as he made contact.
"Daniel Jackson, you must calm down! You are safe here!" Hands grabbed the back of his head and he shouted and reached up to grasp the arms of the man who held him. Oh, god. It was happening. It was happening again. They were going to break his neck.
Another hand touched his cheek, and he flinched away, but the hand was gentle, almost a caress. He stilled. "Elena?" he whispered.
"No, Daniel. It's me, Sam. Daniel? Look at me. It's Sam."
"Sam?" Daniel realized his eyes were closed and he opened them slowly, blinking in the bright light. Sam was leaning over him, a concerned look on her tired face, her hand still on his cheek. He felt the hold on his head relax, and he realized it was Teal'c's arms he was clutching.Teal'c pulled his hands from Daniel's grasp and helped him to sit up, and Sam backed up to give him a little space.
Daniel put the palms of his hands up and rubbed his eyes, trying to slow the beating of his heart. "Sorry," he said, ignoring the slight tremor in his voice. Although he had always hated when it happened, it wasn't the first time—and by some miracle now, it probably wouldn't be the last—his teammates had pulled him out of a nightmare. He suddenly remembered making contact with his foot and looked at Sam with concern.
"Did I just kick you, Sam? Are you O.K.?"
Sam smiled ruefully and rubbed her side. "Don't worry, Daniel. It's nothing a few Tylenol wouldn't cure... if we had any Tylenol."
Daniel moved to get up. "I'll get Thor. He can..."
"It's all right, Daniel. I'm fine," Sam interrupted. "You should see the punch I gave Teal'c earlier when he tried to wake me up. I think I almost actually moved him."
"Indeed," said Teal'c. "It was most impressive."
Sam smiled, then a shadow crossed her face and she looked away.
Daniel reached out to touch her arm. "Bad one?"
Sam looked back at Daniel, and there was, briefly, a bleakness in her eyes that looked all wrong on her, that the Sam of six months ago would never have carried. She forced a half-smile onto her face. "Not so bad," she said, and they all knew she was lying, so to cover up the silence that followed, she added, "You should see Teal'c."
Daniel, who realized he was still half leaning against his friend, shifted around to look at him. Teal'c looked back, then over at Sam, and Daniel saw something, too, in Teal'c's eyes that shouldn't have been there.
"I do now, more than ever, find the necessity for sleep to be most unpleasant," he acknowledged.
Daniel shook his head, and then, to Sam and Teal'c's surprise, he smiled. "God, we're a mess, aren't we?"
Sam smiled back. "Well, at least now we can be a mess together," she said.
It was Teal'c's turn to smile. "Only you, Major Carter, could turn 'being a mess' into a pleasant prospect."
"I do what I can," she said.
They all laughed, but their smiles soon faltered, and a silence stretched as they contemplated just how different, just how much of "a mess," everything was.
"So," Daniel said, breaking the silence, "what do we do now?"
Sam and Teal'c exchanged another look and Sam nodded at Teal'c.
"Major Carter and I have discussed this since you told us your story, Daniel Jackson, and we are not entirely in agreement," the big man said. "I have told her that I will not return to the SGC if you are unable to. Should that come to pass, I would be honored if both you and Major Carter would join me with the free Jaffa on Dakara, where we could continue our fight against the Goa'uld. Or if you wish, I would help you to settle elsewhere."
Teal'c hesitated, and when Sam didn't say anything, he continued.
"Major Carter, however, is torn by her loyalty to you as her teammate and dear friend and her duty to the United States Air Force. She also worries for the welfare of her brother Mark and his family as well as for that of Cassie. I too consider Cassie Fraiser as family, and will find it most difficult to leave her behind."
Daniel, who was once again leaning against the platform, had been looking at the floor as Teal'c talked. Not looking up, he said, softly, "I hated leaving Cassie. It was as if I abandoned her ...and Janet."
"No, Daniel," Sam spoke then. "You can't feel that way. You had no choice. We're the ones who chose to go on what could well have been a one-way mission..." She stopped and took a deep breath. "Look, I still think we'll find a way for all of us to go back, if Teal'c will—and I don't blame him if he won't after what happened to you and how they ...how Colonel O'Neill died—but even if the worst is true and that doesn't happen, I need to at least go back to resign my commission, and I have to see Cassie and Mark. I can't just ...leave." Sam's voice cracked a little. "I'm sorry, Daniel, Teal'c. I can't."
"God, Sam, I don't want you to leave!" Daniel said, upset at the distress he was unintentionally causing her. "Cassie needs you. Your family needs you. And I know how important the Air Force is to you. I would never ask you to give any of that up. And you're too important to the SGC.
"And Teal'c. You too. I understand your not wanting to go back to Earth, and I'm as angry as you are, but you can't blame the SGC for this. Earth's idiot political leaders, maybe, but not the SGC. No one there had anything to do with what happened to Jack, and, except for one, or maybe a few, infiltrators, I can't believe anyone there tried to have me killed or wouldn't have done anything they could to stop it."
Teal'c looked unconvinced. "What would you have us do, Daniel Jackson?"
Daniel sighed. "I don't know. I'd like you to go back and not worry about me... Wait, let me finish," he said as both Sam and Teal'c started to interrupt. "But I know that's not going to happen. I'm also not sure that it's even safe for you and Teal'c to go back to Earth. If they turned on me for helping Thor, then couldn't they also twist what happened to you and Teal'c and this war you've been fighting with the Asgard into some kind of treason? Or turn on you for helping me?"
"But Daniel, that doesn't make sense. How could they think...?" She stopped, and Daniel saw understanding cross her face. "God, that's exactly how it happened to you, isn't it? One minute you were fighting to save the planet, and the next the colonel was dead and you were running for your life."
Daniel ran his hand through his hair. "That's pretty much the way it happened, yeah."
The three were silent again as they considered the grim possibilities. Thor, who had been listening quietly in the background, stepped forward.
"It appears that what you need is more information before you can act," he said. "And I believe there is only one person on Earth whom you can trust to provide you with that information. With your permission, I will bring him to us."
Daniel, Teal'c and Sam looked at each other. Sam and Daniel nodded, and Teal'c gave one slow dip of his head in consent.
"Do it, Thor," Sam said.
General Hammond paced outside the Oval Office, waiting for his meeting with President Hayes to begin. The sooner they finished whatever business had called him there, the sooner he could head back to Andrews and catch a transport to Colorado Springs. Ever since he'd received the call from Cheyenne Mountain that Thor was in orbit with Major Carter, Teal'c and, shockingly, Dr. Jackson aboard, he'd been unable to sit still. He wasn't certain what had delayed their return from Thor's ship to the SGC, but he wanted to be there when they arrived. He needed to be there. His people were coming home.
Still, he had to wait. George would never forgive President Hayes for causing Jack's death and forcing Daniel to flee for his life. The President's recent admission that he'd been wrong on both counts didn't change that; Hammond knew that moral qualms had nothing to do with the reversal. If Thor's return, nicely translated and annotated, of the data from the Ancient outpost hadn't mollified the world leaders who had howled for Daniel's blood, and if it hadn't been for report after report out of the SGC of missions that were doomed to failure from the start because of the absence of one brilliant linguist and archaeologist, Hayes would never have acted. He would have continued to look at Dr. Jackson—and Colonel O'Neill—as little more than collateral damage, necessary casualties in the war not for Earth's security, but for political dominance.
No, he would never forgive the man.
But Hammond was still a general in the United States Air Force, and the President was his Commander-in-Chief, so when he received the summons late last night, on his way to Andrews, to be at the White House today at 0900 hours, he'd had his driver turn the car around and head home. He hadn't slept. And now he waited. And paced.
Finally the door swung open, some forty minutes after the meeting was scheduled to begin.
"George!" the President's voice boomed out. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting. That thing with China is causing major headaches. You know Senator Torrence, don't you?"
"I do," Hammond said, nodding to the tall, white-haired Montanan. "Senator."
"General," Torrence said, returning the greeting as he strode out of the office, looking none too pleased. Two of the White House staffers followed him out, nodding their greetings at the head of Homeworld Security.
Hammond watched them go, then stepped into the Oval Office. "Sit down, George, sit down. Brian will be with us in a moment. We have a few minutes to chat."
"Yes, sir," Hammond said, careful not to show his frustration at yet another delay as they waited for the chief-of-staff to show up. He walked to one of the couches to sit down, glancing around the office that had become so familiar over the past several years. He wondered when he had lost his sense of awe. Had it been the moment he'd been told that the President had ordered a team to try to revive Jack, or had it been years before he'd even been a regular visitor to the White House, on the day he first saw the event horizon shoot out of the Stargate.
He looked up to find Hayes eyeing him speculatively.
"I know you're anxious to see your people, George, and I'll try to get this over with as quickly as possible."
"Yes, sir," Hammond said, and although it stuck a little in his throat: "Thank you, sir."
"It's a miracle they made it home, isn't it? And Dr. Jackson. I'll be happy to have the chance to personally apologize for everything we put him through."
Hammond, with long years of practice, kept his face neutral. "It is a miracle, sir, yes."
Hayes had equally long years and a politician's knack for reading people, and he didn't miss what the general had not said.
"You expect him to throw that apology back in my face."
Hammond paused for just a second too long. "No, sir," he lied.
Hayes shook his head. "You are, as always, quite the diplomat, George. Still, whether he accepts my apology or not, it will be good to have Dr. Jackson, Major Carter and Teal'c back with the SGC. They were sorely missed."
"If they choose to stay with the SGC," Hammond said quietly, voicing his own fears that after everything that had happened, the remaining members of SG-1 might not want to stay. At the same time he wanted to give notice that he would fight for their right to leave. "We have no idea what Major Carter and Teal'c have endured in the past six months and how they will react to Colonel O'Neill's death, and in Dr. Jackson's case, I'm not so sure it's a good idea that he come back."
Hayes frowned. "But didn't you have your people do a thorough check of all the remaining SGC personnel after the incident at Dr. Jackson's house? I thought they came up with nothing."
Hammond nodded. "There are no guarantees, Mr. President. You know that. But it's not the SGC I'm concerned with. I believe we can protect him inside the mountain. It's outside that I'm worried about. You may have had the charges of treason dropped, sir, but I fear that the wolves that were unleashed when the government declared open season on the man will not so easily give up the hunt."
The President was about to respond, when a knock came on the door. "Come in, Brian," he called to his chief-of-staff, and to George: "We'll continue this later."
Hammond nodded and sat back into the couch with a sigh. The conversation had unsettled him, as if just talking about them had made his fears more real. He needed to see his people, make sure they were really all right, grieve with them properly over Jack, and help them sort out what they should do next. He needed to tell Daniel that although the official charges had been dropped, he was not sure it was safe to return home, and he needed to tell him that before the three made it back to the SGC. He thought back to the devastated man in that supply room that day, the last time he'd seen his remarkable friend, and he never wanted to see that look on Dr. Jackson's face again. This time, he wanted Daniel to have choices.
As he listened with only half an ear to Brian's report about yet another demand by the Russians concerning the Gate and France's overheated reaction to that demand, with China now weighing in, he realized he wasn't going to have the chance to talk to his people. There was nothing Brian was saying that was new to him—after all, as head of Homeworld Security, he'd known all this before the White House had—but nevertheless, the meeting was guaranteed to drag on for hours while they discussed the best strategy to deal with their allies.
George was shifting on the couch wondering how he could bear another minute in the room when he felt the beam grab him, and he couldn't help the grin that started to form on his face as he saw the President's mouth drop open. If he'd had time, he would have given a Texas-style whoop, but before he could even finish smiling, he found himself on the bridge of the Daniel Jackson, staring at one of the most beautiful sights he'd ever beheld. He hoped that somewhere, somehow, Colonel Jonathan "Jack" O'Neill was looking down on them, because here, against the greatest odds, were his three teammates, together, in one piece and, maybe, just maybe, almost home.
Chapter 20
Teal'c and General Hammond sat silently as they waited for Daniel to return. Sam, after a time, had excused herself and asked Thor to give her a problem to keep her busy, and they'd gone off together to one of the aboard-ship labs.
"It is a most difficult decision," Teal'c said, finally, as the silence stretched on.
"It is," Hammond acknowledged. "I'm prepared to give Doctor Jackson as much time as he needs to make it."
"As am I."
Hammond waited a beat, then asked, "Have you decided what you will do, Teal'c?"
"I have."
Again, Hammond waited, but Teal'c did not elaborate, and George almost smiled, despite the gravity of the situation. He had missed his no-nonsense Jaffa friend.
The two lapsed into silence again. Neither man was prone to idle chatter, and the lack of conversation for the moment suited them both. Like Daniel, they both had a lot to consider. Hammond thought back to his first moments on the ship, when he'd seen Daniel, Teal'c and Sam Carter standing side-by-side.The smile that had started in the oval office broadened until it had threatened to split his face. Yes, they all looked exhausted, stressed, worn down by months of uncertainty, hardship and grief, but still, here they were, alive.They'd greeted each other almost formally at first, military protocol along with the long separation and the terrible events of the last months holding them back, but then almost as one they'd stepped forward, and suddenly the four were embracing, military decorum and formality be damned.
They'd been full of questions, Sam in particular, about how the SGC had contacted Thor, how Hammond had known they were still alive, and about Cassie, the SGC and, of course, the war against the Goa'uld, and he'd answered them the best he could. They listened grimly as he recounted the possession of some of the SGC personnel by Anubis and his subsequent escape and were not surprised that Ba'al was still wrecking havoc in the galaxy. He didn't outright say that several crises would most likely have been averted had SG1 been there, afraid that the three, particularly Dr. Jackson, might act out of guilt rather than in their own best interests, but he saw, from the looks they shared, that they easily reached that conclusion themselves.
So he'd changed the subject, and the relief in the room was palpable as he told them that his daughter and granddaughters had taken Cassie into their home and made her a part of the family, and that he himself would drive her back and forth from college whenever he could. He knew the young girl had never been far from their thoughts, and he assured them that, while Cassie had grieved for their absence, she had never once blamed them for leaving.
He'd also told them that it had been Daniel who, with a single coded message, had convinced him that the Asgard might be lying and that they should, therefore, try to use Dr. Kalai's research to contact Thor from Byliason. Daniel had ducked his head and actually blushed at the looks Sam and Teal'c had given him as they had chastised him for his apparent claim that he'd "abandoned them."
"We knew you would never give up on us, Daniel," Sam had said.
"It is a measure of the man you are, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c had said, "that even running for your very life you would find a way to bring us home."
Daniel had shrugged and diverted the conversation, but Hammond could see that a weight had been lifted from the man's shoulders. Thinking of it now, Hammond shook his head. Only minutes later Daniel's shoulders had slumped again as Hammond was forced to tell him that, although the charges of treason had been dropped and he believed their security checks were thorough enough for Daniel to return to the SGC, Hammond did not believe that he could safely leave the mountain.
"I don't understand, General," Daniel had said. "Are you saying that you don't think I should leave the mountain at all?"
"Not on Earth."
Seeing the dismay on the faces of the three teammates, George had tried to soften his words: "I may be wrong, Dr. Jackson. My sources say otherwise, but perhaps the President's decision and orders have swayed the ...less law-abiding factions as well."
Daniel had shown a glimmer of hope. "When were the charges dropped?" he asked.
"About two months ago, shortly after we first contacted Thor and he transmitted some of the Ancient data."
The hope went out of Daniel's eyes. "Two months. More than long enough ago, then, to get the word out."
Hammond had looked at him curiously, and then to Sam and Teal'c. Major Carter was staring at the floor, and Teal'c was scowling.
"Has something happened?" he asked. "Do you three know something other than what I've told you?"
Sam looked up, and he saw the anger and distress in her eyes. "They tried to kill Daniel yesterday. If Thor hadn't found him when he did..."
Daniel had interrupted her, as if he'd already accepted that his fate was sealed and had moved on. "And what about Sam and Teal'c? Will they be safe if they go back?"
Still trying to process the news that an attempt had been made on Dr. Jackson's life mere hours ago, Hammond didn't answer for a moment. He wondered that he hadn't even thought of the possibility that Major Carter and Teal'c might also endanger their lives by returning, given all that had happened. As he considered everything that his sources had told him and everything he knew about how the people chasing Dr. Jackson operated, he looked at the surviving members of SG-1. Daniel stared back at him, his blue eyes unreadable. Teal'c waited patiently, equally unreadable. Only Sam's emotions were written on her face. Fear, hope and, he thought, guilt for even hoping...
"I think..." he began and then stopped. "...I believe that Teal'c and Major Carter will be as safe as they ever were on Earth, given the work we do. I'm afraid though, Dr. Jackson, that it is your outspokenness in support of our alliances with alien races, plus your unique experiences, especially your ascension and descension, that make you a particular target."
Daniel had nodded briskly and then risen, all business. "O.K. I have a little thinking to do. If you don't mind, I'll... uh... I..." Daniel's false composure had failed then, and he'd swallowed hard. "I ...need ...I need a few minutes alone to figure this out. I'll just go..." He'd gestured vaguely toward the door, nodded at Sam and Teal'c, and walked from the room.
It was enough to break your heart.
Hammond looked at his watch. That had been almost fifty minutes ago. He gave a slight shake of his head. Fifty minutes? A day? What amount of time would be enough? Hammond tried not to speculate on what Dr. Jackson's decision would be. Colonel O'Neill was gone, in Daniel's mind murdered by their own people, and he himself was a target of men who had, if he read the younger man correctly, terrified him—not an easy thing to do to one of the bravest men, soldier or civilian, Hammond had ever known. Why would he choose to return to the planet under those conditions, only to be confined to a gray underground base, fated to rarely breath fresh air or see the sun?
Yet Earth was home. His parents were buried there, Cassie was there. He had to know that Sam wished fervently to return and would be devastated were he and Teal'c not to come with her. Add in the knowledge that—and Hammond now regretted more than ever having mentioned these events—missions had failed, men had diedwho could have perhaps been saved had Dr. Jackson been there to correctly translate a warning or to avoid a cultural misunderstanding, and the decision became even more excruciating.
George heard a noise at the door and looked up to see Sam and Thor enter the room. "Daniel told us he'd be right here," Sam said. Teal'c nodded and rose smoothly from where he'd sat cross-legged on the floor. Hammond, who'd been leaning rather uncomfortably on one of the stools, straightened out as well, and they all looked expectantly toward the entrance to the bridge. A moment later, Daniel walked in. He saw then all looking, and gave one of those trademark self-deprecating smiles that Hammond remembered so well from a hundred briefings.
"Sorry," Daniel said. "It's a lot to take in."
"Indeed it is, Daniel Jackson. If you would like more time to consider, we are content to wait."
Daniel smiled at Teal'c. "No, that's O.K... General?" he said, turning to Hammond, "Do you mind if I ask you a few more questions?"
George smiled kindly. "Of course not, Dr. Jackson."
"O.K., well first, are you certain if I go back that I'll be able to continue going through the Gate?"
"Yes, I'm certain. Landry is a good man, and you can trust him."
"And if I decide, despite your warnings, to leave the mountain, either temporarily or for good?"
"No one at the SGC will stop you, son."
Daniel couldn't help but notice the words "at the SGC," but he didn't comment.
"And if I decide later to leave Earth?" he asked instead.
Hammond hesitated. He'd like to think that leaving Earth for good should Daniel change his mind would be an option, but except for Colonel O'Neill's false departure when he was undercover, such a move had never been approved.
"I'm afraid there's no guarantee of that, Dr. Jackson" he said. "You know the NID and the Joint Chiefs have never been comfortable with the idea of high-security personnel leaving the planet outside the jurisdiction of the SGC." He hesitated again and added reluctantly, "If you wish to make another planet your home, it would be best to make that choice now."
From the corner of his eye, he saw Major Carter draw in a breath. Teal'c did not change expression, but kept his eyes steadily on his linguist teammate. Daniel sighed, but nodded his head, as if he had expected as much.
Before anyone else could speak, however, Thor stepped forward. "I believe I can be of assistance here, Dr. Jackson. I will of course transport you to wherever you wish to go now. I will also pledge, should you return to Earth, that for as long as my responsibilities allow me to, I will return to the Milky Way periodically to check on your well-being. I will provide you with a communications device for those times. And of course, should you be allowed by your SGC, you may attempt to contact me at any other time. I understand that this is not a perfect solution, but perhaps it will make your decision less onerous."
Again, the four beings in the room looked to Daniel expectantly. Daniel was staring at the floor, his arms wrapped around his torso as he thought.
"Daniel?" Sam asked.
Daniel looked up. "Sorry. Right. Thor, thank you for that. It will be good to know you're out there."
There was another long silence.
"Dr. Jackson?"
Daniel looked to General Hammond and took a deep breath.
"O.K.," he said simply.
The four looked at him.
"O.K., I'll come... 'home.' "
Teal'c nodded. "Then I shall return to Earth with you, Daniel Jackson. For as long as I can."
Daniel nodded in turn, and Sam let out a long breath and the three just looked at each other.
Hammond let out his own small sigh of relief as he contemplated the expressions on the faces of the three teammates. Neither joyful nor sad—more determined than anything else—their eyes transmitted a world of feeling, and Hammond realized almost with surprise that, after all his years watching the unique dynamic of SG-1, he too could read their silent communication. They were going back to a world gone mad, a world without Jack O'Neill, a world that might turn on them—again—at any moment, but they were going back together. And that would have to be enough.
Colorado Springs, three weeks later
Daniel pulled his jacket more tightly around himself. An early autumn frost covered the ground, making the grass crunch a little under his boots. He stopped and stared ahead. He wasn't used to the cold, had almost forgotten what it was like to be cold. It was the first time he'd been outside since he'd returned to Earth; the last time he'd breathed fresh air, he'd been in the Amazon, and the last time he'd seen frost... he thought back and pulled out a vague memory from those jumbled days of running and hiding, some small town in northern Alberta that hadn't yet woken up to spring... how long ago? Six months? A lifetime?
Daniel knew he was stalling. He had asked to be here, had insisted on his right to come, over the misgivings of General Landry and the objections of the security team, but now...
He felt the steady, patient presence of Sam and Teal'c on either side of him, their shoulders almost touching his, and he could see the white puffs of their breaths disappearing before him. They'd stopped when he had, and he knew that they would wait with him there as long as it took. They'd come before him, and had said their goodbyes.
Sam and Teal'c would wait, and so, he thought a little guiltily, would the half-dozen security personnel dressed in civilian clothes who had spread out around them and the others, in dark cars parked at the entrances and on the street. Daniel grimaced. He didn't want to admit that he still felt hopelessly exposed, and it took a concerted effort not to let his eyes dart nervously about, looking for a sudden movement in the trees or a stranger lurking. Even though it had only been three weeks since he'd been rescued by Thor, and even though he still had nightmares about the last time he'd been here, he wanted to think that he was safe, that all the security wasn't necessary, that it was silly and waste of time and resources. He'd even argued that point vociferously to General Landry. Landry had heard him out patiently and then said, "I'm sorry, Dr. Jackson. You go, they go," and then turned his attention back to the paperwork on his desk.
As simple as that.
Daniel glanced to either side at Sam and Teal'c. Teal'c kept his eyes forward, as if to allow Daniel privacy. Sam smiled a little, encouragingly, letting him know with a look that she understood why he hesitated, but he could see the pain behind her eyes, and he knew what it was costing her to be here, in this place.
He returned Sam's smile with a small one of his own and took another deep breath. He forced his eyes forward again and took in the headstones, two of them now where there'd been one.
God.
He started walking and Teal'c moved with him and then stopped, and his teammates let him go this last, short distance alone. The sky was a brilliant blue and the frost sparkled in sunlight so bright he had to shade his eyes, but he couldn't help but think of the last time he'd been here, creeping through the shadows on that dark, terrible night. How much had happened since then, how much had the world changed, had he changed? How many lives had been twisted, harmed?
Daniel slowed and then stopped in front of the markers. He looked at the older stone first, its simple, poignant words so familiar, then turned his eyes to the other. He got down on his knees and brushed his fingers lightly across the engraving.
"Hello, Jack," he whispered, and despite his best intentions, he started to cry.
Chapter 21
I dreamed of Abydos last night. I was caught in a deadly sandstorm, fighting against the wind and grit in the air, almost blind. Through the howling wind I heard a distant voice calling from behind me, from the city, but I didn't turn. My lungs ached and the sand slashed painfully against the exposed skin on my hands and face, but I kept moving. Something, I didn't know what, drove me forward, impossible step by impossible step. Suddenly ahead of me I saw a hazy figure. I started to push harder against the wind, running, stumbling. The figure shimmered, then became solid. I tried to cry out through the cloth around my mouth, but the sound was lost. I pulled the cloth down and took in a mouthful of sand, but I managed to croak out his name. "Jack!" I called. "Jack!" He didn't answer, just stood there staring at me. I reached out for him, was almost there, when he started to shimmer again. I lunged forward to grab him, but my arms closed around nothing but air.
He was gone.
I opened my eyes and found I was on the cot in my office, but I could still feel the sand choking me and the emptiness in my grasp, and I had an overwhelming urge to get out of the mountain and breath air, real air. I sat up, shoved my feet into my boots, grabbed my jacket and headed topside. The elevator ride seemed interminable, and when I finally got to the desk to sign out I think I was practically hyperventilating. A young kid I'd never seen but who obviously knew me said, oblivious to my distress, "Dr. Jackson, hold on a minute, please. Let me get your escort."
"I'm just going topside for a few minutes," I stuttered, trying to speak calmly, even though it felt as if the walls were closing in around me. "I'm not leaving the base. I don't need security." I knew even as I spoke that the young airman had no choice. Since that day on the way back from the cemetery, when security had spotted a "suspicious vehicle" that even more suspiciously sped off when it was approached, Landry had issued orders that I be assigned a guard every time I even think about sticking my head outside the door.
Which is why I haven't seen the sun in almost two weeks. Not our sun, anyway. It's just too much trouble.
"I'm sorry, sir," the guard—Owens, his name tag read—said. "Our orders are that..."
I don't know if it was the dream, or just exhaustion or too much time in this damn gray box, but I almost lost it then, and I would have if Ferretti hadn't come by with Major Briggs at that moment. What they were doing there at oh-three-whatever in the morning, I had no idea, but Ferretti's appearance stopped my tirade before it could get started.
"Hey, Daniel, where you headed?" he asked calmly, as if it were perfectly normal for me to be signing out.
"For some air," I ground out, "if I could just..."
Ferretti, who after Sam and Teal'c, probably knows me better than anyone on the base, had no trouble reading the situation. "Mind if I go with you?" he said.
I let out a long breath and nodded, a little too freaked out, still, to trust myself to talk. I really, really needed to get out of the mountain.
"Will that be all right, Airman?" Ferretti asked, turning to the guard.
"Sir, you really ought to be armed if..."
"Airman," Ferretti said, and this time there was steel in his voice. It sounded odd coming from Lou—I guess I'd never, even after all these years, heard him use his "command voice"—but it was effective.
"Yes, sir," Owens said.
Thank God.
By the time we got out, I felt as if I were going to be sick, but I drew in great lungfuls of air, and gradually my heart settled back to normal and I didn't feel so dizzy. Lou didn't say a word, just gave me the space I needed. We were out on the hill, not far from where I'd contacted the Nox for the Tollan that night so long ago. I sat on a rock and closed my eyes and let the cold air surround me, and I just breathed.
Thirty minutes later, I was back inside, apologizing to Owens.
I asked Teal'c one day how he'd stood it, in those months after he'd first joined SG-1 but still hadn't gotten clearance to leave the mountain. He'd looked at me in that way he has, his long years of experience showing in his eyes, and didn't speak for a moment. Finally he said, "My situation was not the same as yours, Daniel Jackson. You must remember, when I first came to the SGC, I had lived for decades as a slave. To be able to traverse the corridors here, to go to the commissary when I desired nourishment and return to my room when I wished for solitude—to be able to speak my thoughts without risking death—this was more freedom than I had ever known."
Leave it to Teal'c to put things into perspective. It wasn't his intention, I know. He feels my isolation almost as keenly as I do, but his words resonated. I have to remember that, really, I am one of the lucky ones. I have a warm bed and full stomach. I have my life, and I have my work. And yes, I've lost people, so many people, that I've loved, but—and I never stop being grateful for this—I have Sam and Teal'c, and people like Ferretti here to watch my back.
That's what I tell myself, anyway. I'm one of the lucky ones.
Teal'c, Sam and I try to make our bond enough; we hold on to each other like lifelines. When we're not on a mission, Sam will stick her head in my office several times a day, if I'm not already sitting in her lab watching her work. Teal'c hovers over us both, ready to catch us should we falter, and Sam and I both join him in Kel'no'reem whenever we can. Sam stays on the base more often than she goes home, and Teal'c comes back more quickly than he should from his business on Dakara. A year ago I would have told them they were being silly, that I didn't need a babysitter, and I should probably tell them that now.
But I don't.
Jack's loss is a hole we can't fill, and we can't help but be changed by everything else that's happened. Sam is so much quieter, so much sadder, so much harder than the woman who left with Teal'c that day for the Ida Galaxy. She's all business on missions now, a soldier doing her job, a teammate watching our backs. I think she's considering transferring to Area 51, or would be, if she could take us with her. Here every hallway holds memories; every mission is a reminder.
And Teal'c, his anger is sometimes so close to the surface that most of the base personnel, consciously or unconsciously, cut a wide path around him as they pass. After all these years, despite everything he's seen, I think Teal'c had finally started to feel at home among the Tau'ri, had started to trust us, and others, like the Asgard. The trust is gone, and I know that hurts him more than he can say. I see his thoughts turn more and more to the Free Jaffa. He still finds hope there, something to strive for.
And me? I'm still passionate about the fight against the Goa'uld, of course. I will never let that go. But everything else just seems so... flat. General Hammond told me there might be a mission to Atlantis to contact the expedition, and he asked if I was interested in going. There was a time when I wouldn't have hesitated. A chance to see Atlantis and the wonders it must hold? It would have been a dream come true. Now, though, I just don't know. To go would mean to leave Teal'c and Sam behind, and I don't think I'm ready for that yet. None of us are.
And there's more, of course.
Sam and Teal'c have guessed, I think. They know something else brought me back here, that something else holds me firmly to the planet, despite all my reasons for leaving. I must have said her name out loud once, in a dream maybe, because Sam even asked me: "Daniel, who's Elena?" I just smiled and shook my head, and Sam didn't mention it again.
But I'm pretty sure she knows.
Elena, I hope wherever you are that you are happy, that someday you can smile when you remember me and not remember only the horror of our last day. I hope, at least, that you don't hate me, although you have every right. Maybe someday—
God, I'm an idiot. Elena would curse me for this. She'd damn me again for my pretty words, and tell me that they aren't enough. That they're no substitute for living, for loving, for staying. And she's right. She's right.
But sometimes words are all I have.
São Paolo, Brazil
Elena sat at her metal and glass desk in her two-bedroom flat, with its high windows looking out over the city. Her friends, her family, they'd all teased her, Elena Borques, the studier of ancient cultures, for selling the old, rundown place her parents had helped her buy when the children were small and moving into a new high rise, never mind decorating it with ultramodern furniture. But that was the way she liked it. The children were rarely home anymore, and hardly ever at the same time, so she didn't need the space. And somehow, the clean lines and stark rooms freed her mind, allowed it to roam more easily through the past. The distant past, that is. The recent past was...
Elena shuffled through papers on her desk. Manoel had dropped by the sealed manila envelope that morning. He didn't say what was in it, but he didn't have to. She could tell by the look in his eyes. She'd considered dropping the whole thing in the trash—she'd told him, hadn't she, that she didn't want to know—but in the end, she couldn't do it. She needed to look inside.
Now she again picked up the grainy black-and-white photo on the top, obviously printed from the Internet. It showed a young man, slight, big glasses, long hair, a shy smile on his face. He looked so impossibly young and innocent, but there was no mistaking who it was.
Jacques.
"Dr. Daniel Jackson, Guest Lecturer" the caption said.
"Doctor," she repeated the word in English and smiled a little despite herself. She'd always thought Jacques had known way too much to be the amateur he'd claimed. She looked again at the bio Manoel had found, pulled from some old American university web page. Dr. Daniel Jackson. A triple Ph.D. By the time he was 22, no less. By the time he was 24, he had headed up digs much larger than their Upper Xingu site; before he was 30, he'd been offered a full professorship and was well on the way to becoming a respected Egyptologist. Having seen Jacques's brilliance firsthand, Elena had no doubt that if he'd stayed in academia, he would by now have been the top man in his field. But instead, he'd...
She sighed as she picked up the small stack of articles from various journals, all dated some eight years ago. All of them, in some form or other, told the same story, most with a level of ridicule rarely found in professional journals. Some of the articles even suggested that he'd inherited the insanity of his archaeologist grandfather or never recovered from witnessing the death of his mother and father—archaeologists too—as a young child. Bastards, she thought now, remembering the picture of Jacques as a boy in Egypt, standing happily between his parents. How could they throw that in his face?
But she also knew her own stab of guilt, for as soon as she'd seen the articles, she'd felt the shock of recognition. She remembered the story. Barely into her teaching career, she and her friends had laughed at the Americanolouco apparently thought that aliens had built the pyramids so they'd have a place to land their spaceships.
Everyone had laughed.
Trying now to reconcile the man she knew with such a wild theory, she looked carefully at the transcript of the infamous talk, reprinted in full in one of the articles. She drew in a deep breath as she read. Far from the ravings she'd expected and thought she remembered, the lecture was, in fact, brilliant. Of course it was. Jacques—Dr. Jackson—laid out his theories clearly and concisely; he'd shown how the cross-pollination of cultures, evidenced by the discovery of Egyptian and other artifacts in far-flung parts of the world, did not fully fit any of the current models and explained, with facts that had to this day never been refuted as far as she knew, how he'd come to the conclusion that Egyptian civilization was far older than his colleagues or anyone else had theretofore thought. It was truly a masterly presentation.
Unfortunately, while he hadn't actually come out and said that aliens were responsible, there was no doubt that that is what he was implying as he ended his lecture—and, also, apparently, his career.
After that, there was no mention anywhere of Dr. Daniel Jackson and what had become of him. Nothing, nothing at all.
So what had happened? Had he truly lost his mind and joined some terrorist cell?
No.
If she knew anything, she knew that Jacques was no terrorist. She got up and went to the closet in her bedroom and pulled the rucksack from the back. Jacques's rucksack. Saunders had found the bag the evening after the men in the helicopter had come. It had been leaning against a tree at the edge of the forest. Jacques had made it to the trees, was well on his way to escaping, but he'd come back. To protect them. To protect her.
She pulled out the journal, three-quarters finished, and flipped through the pages, as if this time she'd be able to miraculously read his strange code, but it was as impossible to decipher as always. Still searching for answers, she slipped out the three photographs he'd dropped that last day and brought the one of him standing with his friends, obviously the most recent, back to her desk. They had their arms over each other's shoulders, and they were smiling. There was an intimacy in their pose that spoke of trust and comfort, as if they'd known each other for years. And there was something else in the way they held themselves, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. A kind of competence and certainty, as if they'd taken on the world and won. Soldiers, she wondered? Saunders, before she'd screamed at him to leave her alone, had said he was certain Jacques was a soldier.
She brushed her finger lightly over Jacques's image in a kind of a caress. "Damn it, Jacques," she said out loud. "Who the hell were you?"
"Is that him?" a voice sounded behind her.
"Gabriela," Elena said, pushing the photographs away before she turned, "I didn't hear you come in. And who do you mean?"
"Him," Gabriela said, "the guy you've been mooning over since you got back."
"I don't moon over anyone, young lady. You know that."
Gabriela tilted her head and bit her lip, a gesture that made her look for all the world like the little girl Elena used to hold in her lap. "No," Gabriela said, sounding a little uncertain, "you didn't use to."
Elena considered keeping up the front. She formed the words in her mind, "It's nothing. He was no one," but she couldn't bring herself to say them. Whoever he was, whoever he had been, Jacques, beautiful, brilliant, kind Jacques, deserved better.
"No," she repeated instead, a sad smile on her face, "I didn't use to."
Gabriella looked at her mother, another question in her eyes, but she stopped herself and just nodded.
"I'm sorry, mama," she said.
Elena reached out to give her not-so-little girl a hug. "So am I, sweetie, so am I."
American Airlines Flight 2690, Rio to Miami
Reggie Saunders gave up, finally, on trying to sleep and shifted uncomfortably in the narrow seat. In less than an hour, they'd be landing in Miami. Assuming he made it through passport control without being arrested, two hours after that he'd be on a flight to St. Louis.
Home.
Damn, he was nervous. He hadn't been in the States in more than four years. Not since his marriage had disintegrated, and the IRS started sending him threatening letters about the taxes he'd neglected to pay, and that little side deal he was working with that weasel Hanks to try to raise the money turned out to be something less than legal.
He wondered if the pilot would maybe consider turning the plane around.
He felt the sudden slight change in air pressure and realized they were already starting their descent. Hell. He wondered if maybe, in a life full of stupid ideas, this was the stupidest. His wife hated him, understandably, for screwing around on her and then, adding insult to injury, skipping the country and leaving her with the huge tax bill and house payments she couldn't possibly keep up on her own. His brother thought he was a loser, his nieces probably didn't remember him, his mother would... He frowned. His mother would probably welcome him home the way she always did, with a big embrace, and never mention the fact that he had written, two, count them, two letters to her in all those years, two letters with no return address. She wouldn't mention it, but he'd see it in her eyes.
And then of course there was the little matter of the possession of stolen goods charge that was still hanging over his head, swear as he might on a stack of Bibles that he thought his friend's electronics business was legit. His pal in the county clerk's office was pretty confident that an old Missouri bench warrant wouldn't show up when he went through immigration in Miami, but as the plane continued its descent, Saunders wasn't feeling quite so certain.
Yet here he was, heading home, hoping to some way, somehow, set things right.
Damn you, Jacques Perrault.
For if he was going to blame anyone, it would be Perrault. The man who, even with all his secrets, wore his heart on his sleeve. The man who saved Reggie's life and probably half a dozen others the day he knocked Reggie's gun aside and stood unarmed before an angry mob. The man who, scared sh**less—and who wouldn't be?—still walked back out of the rainforest into the hands of stone-cold killers, and, almost certainly, gave his life for theirs.
He figured he owed the man, and for the life of him, this was the only way he could think to repay him. He was going home, facing up to his past, clearing his name, trying to make it up to Maggie even if she would probably spit in his face. And, in jail or not, he was going to track down Hanson's wife and kids and do whatever he could to help take care of them. And he'd tell the kids about the pictures of them on their dad's desk in Altamira and how, wherever they'd been, in Afghanistan or Brazil, their dad never spoke more than three sentences without mentioning how great they were doing in school or how funny they were.
The seatbelt light came on, and Reggie glanced out the window at the fast-approaching coast. He downed the last of the Scotch from the plastic cup in his hand and clutched the armrest. He may have been this nervous without a gun pointed at him before, but he couldn't remember when. He closed his eyes and brought back the image of Perrault by that helicopter, beaten and bloody, barely able to stand, but still fighting, still talking for their lives. That was the image that had brought him this far and the image that would get him off the plane and into his uncertain future.
For the first time in a long time in his screwed up life, Reginald Bellows Saunders was going to try to do the right thing. It was the least that he could do.
Damn you, Jacques Perrault.
The End
