Author’s Notes:     For the purposes of this story  the movies “Bourne Identity” and “Bourne Supremacy” were released prior to Season one.  This story is a sequel to “Duplicate Thoughts” – my Cold Lazarus episode addition.

Thanks to Wendy and ReeAnn for their beta of this story.

Colonel Jack O’Neill was in the infirmary pulling on his shirt following the usual after-mission physical.  He had been given the ‘All-Clear’, and Janet Fraiser had moved on to Sam and Teal’c.  Daniel had already hit the showers.  The mission had been an exploration of ancient ruins; one that Jack O’Neill usually would have considered boring.  Daniel Jackson had actually been surprised at the lack of sarcastic or impatient remarks from the colonel.  He wondered what O’Neill really thought about the mission.

Daniel would have been surprised at the answer.  As Colonel O’Neill buttoned his shirt he was thinking, ‘It was nice to have a mission with no bruises, bad-guys, cloned aliens, or plagues,’ O’Neill reflected.  ‘Kind of refreshing.’  It was a comment on the excess of ‘interesting’ missions lately.  Sometimes Jack felt like he lived the ancient curse “May you live in interesting times.”

The Colonel finished dressing, and was on his way out the door of the infirmary when Corpsmen Dave Johnson.  “Colonel,” Johnson said, tentatively.  “Can I ask you a question?”

The Colonel turned to see who it was.  “What do you want to know, Airman?” he asked, nonchalantly. 

Johnson faltered for a second, then blurted out, “Sir, I overheard you and Dr. Fraiser talking a couple of weeks back.”  Johnson took a deep breath.  “I wanted to know – could you really figure out 10 different ways to kill a man with a yoyo?”

O’Neill’s attitude became a lot less relaxed.  He gazed at Johnson, unnervingly.  “You’re David Johnson, right?” O’Neill asked brusquely.  “You served with the Doc in Bosnia?”

Johnson’s eyes opened wide.  He was astounded that the Colonel even knew his name.  “Yes sir,” he said. 

“The doc mentioned you.  She said that you saved her butt in Bosnia one time, you and the other guy.  Hobbs?” Jack looked at Dave Johnson, who nodded slightly.  “Yeah – the way Fraiser tells it the Serbs were on their way in, not much caring about the big red cross on the building, so you two grabbed guns off a couple of dead soldiers and began to defend the wounded in the ward – even after the so-called professional military had bugged out to save their own skin.” 

Johnson shrugged, self-effacingly.  “We didn’t do anything anybody else wouldn’t have done,” Johnson said.  “We couldn’t leave our people to be killed.”  He knew that if anyone understood that it would be Colonel O’Neill.

O’Neill nodded, slowly.  He could tell that Johnson was sincere.  The Colonel looked at Johnson soberly.  “Tell me, Johnson – what would have happened if there hadn’t been any guns.  Would you have run?”

“No, Sir!” Johnson exclaimed indignantly.  “We would have defended our people.  We would have found something to fight with!”

“Exactly!”  Colonel O’Neill agreed. “That’s how a ‘soldier’ thinks!”  The emphasis on the word soldier made it clear that it had a special meaning in O’Neill’s vocabulary.  To O’Neill ‘soldier’ meant patriotism, honour, protector, brother, and a lot more.  The colonel smiled at Johnson.  “Do you go to the movies?” He asked suddenly.  Johnson nodded assent.  O’Neill queried, “Did you see the movies ‘The Bourne Identity’ or ‘The Bourne Supremacy’?”

“Yeah,” Johnson said bewilderedly.  He was confused by the sudden change in topics.

Colonel O’Neill leaned up against the hospital bed.  He put his left hand in the pocket of his BDUs, and pulled out a yoyo.  “Did you notice how when Bourne didn’t have any weapons, he sure found them in a hurry.”  Johnson nodded, eyeing the yoyo.  It looked so innocent in O’Neill’s hands.  The colonel began to play with the toy absent-mindedly as he continued;  “Bourne looked around and used everyday items in new and deadly ways.  A rolled magazine – an appliance cord, a pen, an open gas line and a toaster. All easily done when you know how.”

“I guess,” Johnson said quizzically.

“Something that comes out of Black Ops training is the understanding that if you are captured they aren’t going to leave you with your gun and knife. They probably won’t even leave you in good shape.”  There was an echo of seriousness in Colonel O’Neill’s voice that made Johnson want to pay attention.  He listened intently as the colonel said, “You have to learn to see through new eyes.  You train your eyes to notice things.  One thing you have to learn is figuring what you can use as a weapon.  You know how many fixes we get in – it helps to have brains like Major Carter’s.  But it also helps to have street smarts and training in getting out of trouble.”

Johnson was staring at Jack O’Neill intently.  Everything that he said made sense.  It was a part of the military that Johnson had little contact with.  His world was more about helping people than about harming them.  He loved his job as corpsman, but Johnson knew that at the SGC even the corpsmen had to think about the importance of being battle-ready.

O’Neill was doing tricks with the yoyo now.  It was hard  for Dave Johnson to imagine the toy he was enjoying as a weapon.  He was taken aback when the colonel continued.  “So the answer to your question is – probably.  I can think of 6 ways to kill a man with a yoyo, off hand.  I can think of about the same number to either disarm or stall a man so you can finish the job with your hands.  It all comes down to training.”

Colonel O’Neill looked Johnson in the eye. He laid the yoyo on the bed beside him.  “If you want to have some training – there is a voluntary class on Monday nights that Teal’c and I put on for non-combatants who occasionally go off–world. It deals mostly with hand-to-hand, but it also covers some weapons training.  Non-obvious weapons and traps are included.   You would be welcome – just so you would know your options.”

“Is Dr. Jackson in the class?” Johnson asked, curiously.

“He is the reason we started it.” Jack said, grinning.  “There are experts working at the SGC, archaeologists like Daniel, geologists, linguists - people who have never had to worry about how to handle themselves.  This gives them a ‘fighting’ chance.”  O’Neill grinned at his own pun, then said, “I would be glad to have you in the class, Johnson.” 

“Thank You, Sir,” Johnson said, sincerely. “It might help me keep the doc safe.”

“And that would be worth it, wouldn’t it?” Jack O’Neill asked.

“Always!” Johnson said, fervently.  “Fraiser is the best doctor I’ve ever served with, and I’ve been around a while.  The Doc requested me for this job.  She got me out of a hellhole of a hospital to offer me this.  I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world but right here, doing this job, Colonel.   This is the posting of a lifetime.” Johnson hesitated for a moment, and said “About those 10 ways?”

O’Neill sighed. He knew that Johnson would ask eventually. Jack shrugged, and said, “With the yoyo on the string, swung hard – hit the temple, larynx – or just the right angle – the nose.  Instant kills.    Just right on the back of the neck would do it, too.   Or at least would paralyze the person long enough to finish the job other ways.  You could do that throwing the yoyo, too – larynx and temple – you wouldn’t be able to get the right angle for the nose. But you would have to have a lot of strength and be a very good aim. Using the string as a garrotte is pretty obvious.  The string could also be used to create a trip-wire at the top of the stairs – but that would likely only slow somebody down, not kill them.  The yoyo on a string could be swung hard enough to jar a weapon out of enemy hands, or as a bolo to stop someone from running, or swung around their neck, and jerked back.  After that, hands would finish the job. A yoyo could be used as a bludgeon, or you could just use the string as a snare, and jerk someone’s legs out from under them.  That’s more than 10 ways a yoyo can be used as a weapon, Johnson."  The colonel looked up at the corpsman’s face.  Johnson stood stunned, staring in shock at the yoyo on the bed.

Colonel O’Neill smiled grimly.  It wasn’t the first time he had seen that look.  “Look, Johnson.” He said in a reassuring voice. “The trick to staying alive out there is to be aware of what is going on around you, and always be running through options in your mind.  It doesn’t have to be big and go boom to be deadly.  Sometimes the simplest solutions are the best.  Enough said?”

“Yes sir,” Johnson said.  His eyes were still wide, but the expression wasn’t shocked anymore.  He looked almost appreciative. “I’ll be at that class,” he said.

I know you will Johnson,” O’Neill grinned wryly.  “And Hobbs will be there too, if I’m not mistaken.  I’ll feel better about the doc being off-world if you guys have that training.  I already know that you don’t panic when the shit hits the fan.  You showed that in Bosnia.    You’ll take care of her. Not that she needs it,” Jack said, with a chuckle. “She is a very capable soldier. But it’s good to be prepared. And even better to have back-up.”

“Yes Sir,” Johnson said, with determination in his eyes.

“Good man,” O’Neill responded.  He turned and exited the doors of the infirmary leaving Johnson wondering whether he really wanted to be the type of man who could hold a children’s toy, and visualize its uses as a weapon.  But he was a soldier, and he would protect those under his care to the full extent of his abilities.  ‘If there was one thing this posting had shown him,’ Johnson reflected, ‘It was the need to move beyond ability to capability – and that is what he was going to do.’