National Strategy to Combat Weapons of Mass Destruction, Dec. 2002

www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2002/12/WMDStrategy.pdf

AB Ali Al Salem, Kuwait, 386th Air expeditionary Group

AB Ahmed Al Jaber, Kuwait

www.globalsecurity.org/military/facility/index.htm

DTRA The Defense Threat Reduction Agency

www.dtra.mil

Inhumane treatment of prisoners in Iraq

www.humanrights-usa.net/reports/iraq.html

LOSAT: Line Of Sight Anti-Tank Missile (Lockheed-Martin)

www.missilesandfirecontrol.com/our_products/antiarmor/LOSAT/product-LOSAT.html

Author's Note: This story was inspired by the increased tensions in the Mid East and subsequent elevation of the United States Alert Status to Code Orange on Feb 7, 2003. Several people from my place of employment were called to active duty and sent overseas. If you know anyone who is serving in the military, pray for them. The descriptions of treatment and torture of prisoners by the Iraqis are from eyewitness accounts and not a product of my imagination. In no way is this story intended to make light of recent events or the atrocities committed.

Friday 02.07.03

Hammond couldn't have looked more stern, or more sad. He had called for an impromptu gathering of all available SGC personnel in the Gateroom. It did nothing to forestall the somber mood infusing the command of late. Every television set on the base was turned to one of the national news channels for information regarding terrorist threats and the possible declaration of war. The senior staff knew what was going on at higher levels but most everyone else as well as the large number of civilians knew nothing but what they heard on the news.

So now the Gateroom was solidly packed with people. Everyone wondering why it was Hammond had called them together. He finally appeared in the control room and slowly made his way down the steps and through the crowd of people. He stepped up the ramp far enough to be sure everyone could see him.

O'Neill had quietly followed his CO from his office and now took his place at the General's side. He acknowledged the presence of his team with a silent nod. The General raised his hands to quiet the murmurs in the crowd before him.

"Good afternoon, everyone. I will get straight to the point here. As you are all aware, the National Terrorist Threat Level was recently upgraded to status: orange. This is the second highest level possible, only below red, which would indicate an imminent attack. All U.S. citizens and Diplomats in the Mideast are being urged to return immediately. In light of the international crisis we are facing as a nation the President has decided that the resources of the SGC would be better utilized at this time if our offworld efforts were curtailed. We will not desist in all offworld activities but missions will be limited to scientific, archaeological and diplomatic follow up on planets where we've already been. We will not be visiting anywhere new for a while."

"In effect, people, all possible military personnel will be immediately reassigned to other bases, including the ones in Kuwait."

He paused and looked at the stunned faces before him. "Several of you will be receiving your orders before the end of the day. I cannot tell you how to deal with this. You know you are Air Force first, SGC second. You knew the day might come when your country needed you to move beyond this Command. That day has come, you are needed today. Be aware that I have personally requested each and every one of you be given the opportunity to return the SGC when our international concerns return to more normal levels, and in the event of any increased threat from other than earth bound forces, you will immediately be recalled. Until I receive additional information, that is all I can say. Thank you." Hammond turned to his 2IC and extended his hand. O'Neill's face was devoid of emotion as he clasped the older man's hand. "Good luck, Colonel. May God go with you and those who follow." The men released hands and offered each other a stiff salute.

The room filled with voices, sad, shocked, distressed but none complaining or whining about the turn of events. SG-1 as a unit moved forward toward the ramp where Hammond and O'Neill still stood. Before Carter could say a word, the General nodded to her and moved off. He needed to escape the room before he was assaulted with questions on all sides.

She stopped directly in front of O'Neill, "Sir. You're going?" The shock in her voice was unmistakable. He nodded grimly.

Jonas stepped in, "You're leaving? What will happen to us? To SG-1?"

O'Neill sighed and glanced at Teal'c. He noted that this man who usually showed little emotion was in obvious distress also but still managed to hold his tongue. He appreciated the Jaffas quiet acceptance and understanding of the how's and whys of duty and didn't think he'd ever be able to convey how much it meant to him to have a warrior brother if you will. Someone who lived with duty and service and hard choices every day. He turned back to Carter who was opening her mouth to speak again and raised his hand to quiet her.

"Not now." He spoke softly. Then to all of them he went on, "Let's get out of here."

He plowed on past the several people still in the Gateroom and purposefully walked straight to his office. Once there he moved over to his desk but did not sit. He turned and stood facing his team. Even amid the hustle and bustle in the hallway he knew they'd fallen in step behind him and followed him all the way. It gave him pleasure that he knew them so well, could trust them so much. He gestured to the door and Jonas quietly shut it.

As he remained silent, Carter took the initiative, "Colonel, are we being reassigned?"

He looked up from the mouse pad he'd found so interesting a moment before and faced her. "No. As the first contact specialist team of the SGC you will remain here and carry on. It helps that two of you were not born on earth. Jonas, you are welcome to continue in your research and studies as you are able. Teal'c you may leave the SGC if you think your duties would be unacceptable given this change, but honestly I rather hope you'll stay. You'd be the most experienced military mind in the command including Hammond and I expect he may occasionally need to bounce a few ideas off you as he does with me now. Major, you are needed to continue developing Naquadah technology and applications here."

The Major lowered her eyes momentarily blinking hard, then raised them to look directly into his, an unspoken question there. He looked away, "I, however, being a soldier with no academic usefulness, am being sent to Kuwait City. I'm being reassigned to Special Forces."

"And you're going?" Carter blurted out. " You could retire, serve as a civilian consultant or something. You're gonna let them send you back to-"

Her voice was failing so he finished it for her, "Iraq."

She took an involuntary step back and landed right against Teal'c who was behind her and he grasped her shoulders tightly. Her vision blurred as she recalled the several times while offworld O'Neill had awakened in a sweat or suffered through a nightmare. He'd get up and go off by himself for a while, working through the memories. His hatred for confinement would often bring these things to the surface and a few times she was privy to more than she should have been.

After his torture by Ba'al he'd had terrible nightmares. It didn't help that he was suffering withdrawal from the sarcophagus as well and more than once she was witness to the aftermath as she sat with him in the infirmary. One night she had been there and had to call for him to be sedated. He awoke disoriented and cursing in a foreign language, which the nurse informed her was an Iraqi dialect. She'd heard it before when she was stationed in Kuwait during the war. She refused to translate much of what was said and Carter didn't push it when she noticed the woman was blushing, but she gleaned enough to know the Colonel had been mercilessly tortured and denied food and water.

Teal'c knew, too, about the Colonel's past history with the foreign nation in another war, years ago. He had a few late night discussions with Daniel Jackson about that very thing. He had wanted to better understand this human who was the first that ever in his service to Apophis had given him reason to consider the successful displacement of a false god. It wasn't a question of physical or mental strength. Of that Teal'c was certain. Yet this brash, unconventional and frequently irreverent man had something within that was far stronger than any Goa'uld or their armies. After all this time he still wasn't sure what it was. The closest thing he'd ever seen to it was only in movies when being introduced to the culture of the Tau'ri. It was called being a hero. Not in the sense of a man trying to impress others with his own idea of greatness, but in a quiet resolve to achieve what is just. Many people would know what is right but would be unable to follow through and do it but the hero was always victorious and always survived, and never stayed around to get the glory.

Teal'c was used to Goa'uld and Jaffa alike wallowing in glory at every given chance. It was quite a concept for him to grasp true humility. He thought this quality might be part of O'Neill's strength, but knew the Colonel would brush off the idea and never discussed it with him. Now he stood tall and locked eyes with the first human to slay a god, the only man the Reetou would trust, who even the Asgard considered to be their ambassador of choice. Twice a symbiote had entered his body to make him a host and yet he stood here, free. They communicated silently, O'Neill was doing something he felt was 'right' again, and he was entrusting the safety of Major Carter, Jonas and the SGC to Teal'c. The Jaffa lowered his eyes and nodded his head once in acceptance of the mission.

When he looked back up to O'Neill's face something had changed. There was a bit more sorrow perhaps, or fear, but his resolve remained.

By the next morning O'Neill was ready to ship out. His affairs were already in order given the uncertainty of offworld missions and he'd implored his neighbors to empty out his refrigerator and kitchen cabinets of any perishables. He even had someone lined up to do some long-term yard work. In the event he was listed MIA the house would be kept up for a minimum of two years that could be extended by his designated POA (Power of Attorney) who was General Hammond. His car and truck were in storage so he called for a cab to take him to Peterson Air Force Base for the flight out. While he waited he familiarized himself with updated files, satellite imagery and current unit deployments in the area.

The paperwork he'd received with his transfer orders included a copy of the 'National Strategy to Combat Weapons of Mass Destruction' just recently composed in December 2002. He already knew the contents but read through it anyway. The National strategy consisted of three principle parts: Counter Proliferation, Strengthened Non-Proliferation and Consequence Management.

The first part involved scientists and intelligence, the second, diplomacy and the third, was protection, remedial and rapid response. Or in more common words, prevent, deter and defend. Obviously he was part of the latter.

He heard a vehicle pull up in the drive and without looking grabbed his gear and headed for the door. It was with a shock that he almost walked right into his now former 2IC.

The Major was on her best military behavior all prim and proper but he could see the discomfort in her eyes. "Carter! Sorry, I wasn't expecting to see you."

She looked down sheepishly, "I know, Sir. I thought I might drive you to the airport."

His eyes narrowed a bit and he looked around like there might have been a spy in their midst. "How did you know when I was leaving?"

"There are only two flights out of Peterson with troops bound for the Mideast, one today and one tomorrow afternoon. I figured you'd be on the first one."

He nodded at her logical deduction. "Well, no time like the present they say." He looked at her and felt a pang of guilt for avoiding saying goodbye to his friends, "Come on in, I'll cancel the cab."

After a quick phone call they exited the house and he locked up, taking one last look around. "You've still got that spare key, right?" He'd always taken the precaution of giving a house key to his CO and 2IC after returning from too many missions to find broken windows, water pipes and other assorted minor disasters. "I'm having the place checked weekly and my neighbors have the phone number to the base if anything unexpected comes up."

With no response from Carter he felt a need to keep up a bit of banter as he tossed his gear in her trunk and slammed the lid. "You want me to drive?"

She shook her head, "Nope. Got it."

Luckily it wasn't a very long drive and the runways of Peterson Air Force Base were soon in sight. Carter had been a clam the whole way and O'Neill had run out of things to say. Short of 'God, I wish I didn't have to go.' that is, but he wouldn't say it, he had to maintain a positive attitude, now even more so in front of her. When they arrived he was somewhat surprised that instead of driving to the drop off point she turned the car into the parking lot.

"You don't have to stay and see me off, Carter."

"No, it's okay. I want to. It's Saturday, I don't have anything else to do." She rolled her eyes and mentally slapped herself, good move Carter, 'didn't have anything else to do?' Nothing like making your CO feel insignificant. Or your former CO.

He looked at her only for a moment then looked away, suddenly feeling a need to fiddle with something he took off his sunglasses and cleaned the lenses.

They walked in and after his bag was checked, made their way out to the waiting area at the gate. Neither wanted to sit so they stood at the huge glass windows and watched the planes come and go. There was much more activity than usual with increased training flights scheduled.

O'Neill looked around the waiting area at the personnel with whom he'd be spending the next several hours on the plane. He noted that sorrowful looking family members accompanied every one of them. As his eyes fell upon the woman at his side he thought how similar they would appear to everyone else. Carter had dressed in civvies for the day, opting for jeans, a pullover and a light sweater instead of a uniform. Only a couple of the departing people would recognize her and know she was military. No one was paying attention to them any way, being caught up in their own concerns.

He was thoughtful for a moment then spoke to her, "Thanks for coming out, Carter. You know you didn't have to, I'm not even your CO anymore."

He saw her stiffen and swallow hard. Oh, yeah, she'd already thought of that. She forced herself to stare out the window and pretended it was the sunlight making her eyes water as she blinked several times then closed her eyes.

"Carter? You okay?"

He could see the muscles in her neck tighten, "You could call me Sam." Her voice was barely above a whisper.

His eyes closed as he considered her words. He knew she was still not looking in his direction, waiting for a response.

Before he could even formulate one the overhead speakers announced boarding would commence for the flight. Their eyes locked as the speaker fell silent and people began to head toward the ramp.

He couldn't move. It was like they were in a bubble separated from the noise and confusion around them and the seconds ticked by. He finally cocked his head slightly to one side and gave her a crooked smile. "Sure, Sam."

She felt the moisture welling up in her eyes again and blinked it back. He stared at her face and was suddenly back in that dark hallway, separated from her by a shimmering blue force field and watching her tell him to go. But there was no force field today, not this time, and he did what he couldn't do that awful day.

He closed the small space between them and circled his arms around her, letting her tears wet his shoulder as he pressed his cheek into her hair. It wasn't the first time he'd hugged her, but certainly the first time in public. She held him in return just as tightly and they did not move from the embrace for several long moments. They separated finally but he kept hold of one of her hands as they turned back to the window and the less-than-cheerful sunshine outside. Soon the speakers came to life again announcing the final call for the flight.

She pulled her hand away and quickly wiped her face, blinking back the remaining tears with great effort. He smiled again at her, "Take care, Sam."

"You, too. Be careful over there, Sir."

"Jack. You can call me Jack."

She nodded and replied, "Goodbye, Jack." Her forced smile faded as soon as the words were out of her mouth but his face lit up anyway. He gave her shoulder a squeeze and on a whim, gave her a quick kiss on the cheek then turned away and strode up the ramp. She didn't see it but he was smiling. What a dumb thing, he thought, on my way to who-knows-what and I'm happy. Got to be a fool or-. Well he wasn't prepared to think about what else it might be.

Air Base Ali Al Salem, Kuwait.

Monday 02.10.03

It had been a long journey with a few changes of transport along the way. Colonel O'Neill was finally at his destination, a facility endearingly nicknamed by its occupants 'The Rock'. This was little more than a group of tents located beside an airfield, which unfortunately was less than 40 miles from the Iraqi border making the installation the forefront of any campaign. Not a good place to be if conditions were to escalate.

Still, O'Neill was in an element he could understand. He was to command a Special Forces unit attached to the 386th Air Expeditionary Group. The overall purpose of the base was to provide surveillance by working in concert with AWACS Aircraft patrols and supplying 24-hour radar coverage of Iraqi airspace.

Of course this air surveillance was only part of the mission. The base was prepared to provide combat support and rescue and medical evacs, as well as ballistic missile defense. They had maintained combat readiness and were still able to launch a Patriot missile within two minutes of a scud warning. Quite impressive for a bunch of tents out in the desert, he thought.

He was greeted by an aide who took him to his assigned quarters in the officer's tent. No personal quarters here, it was like a portable dormitory. He sighed at the lack of amenities, no wonder troops appreciated the larger Ahmed Al Jaber base just north of Kuwait City. They had permanent buildings, recreation rooms and even a pool. None of that here he thought as he walked past a portable toilet.

Ah, well he wasn't here to work on his tan, might as well get to work. The aide offered to show him around and after a short break he was escorted to meet his new CO. Brigadier General Charles Pike was a man not much older than O'Neill himself, being only one step in rank above. He warmly greeted the Colonel, and welcomed him to the Command.

"You've got a colorful history here, airman. What there is of it I'm allowed to read, that is."

O'Neill answered flatly, "I've gotten accustomed to more neutral tones of late. Not a problem I take it?"

"Oh, no, just wondering what kind of man retires, comes back, then after sitting around in a cake job for a few more years gets a bee in his bonnet and wants to get back into action."

O'Neill's eyebrows shot up. 'Cake job' and 'Stargate Command' were not words he would put together. Too bad he couldn't tell his new CO that. So this guy thought he was washed up and gone soft. Maybe both in body and mind. "Not exactly, Sir. Wasn't given much of a choice, if you know what I mean."

"Yes. I see that your skills are highly regarded in places of mighty thin atmosphere. I understand you've been personally selected by the President on more than one occasion."

"We see eye to eye on certain things."

"Don't bother with the false modesty, if it weren't for your refusal to accept promotion, you'd be a two star by now and my boss. Can't stand the paperwork?"

"I've always considered myself to be a man of action. Pushing a pencil is not exactly my forte." He noted the stacks of papers on the General's desk and realized he just indirectly insulted his CO. "Uh, not that it isn't important to some bureaucra-, er, people."

"Sit down." The man smiled and gestured to a chair. "Let me be frank with you, Colonel, we've got some serious Intel that something big is up. Hussein is not just gearing up with biologicals, he's got access to some pretty advanced technology, probably stolen from us. When the reports were taken to the Pentagon, they selected you. I don't think they sent you out here to the desert because they like you. Or don't like you. Or because you've got a good bit of experience under your belt. Let's face it; running this undercover crap is for men younger than us. I'd bet there is something in the censured part of your file that would answer a lot of the questions I've got but I won't press it. I learned the meaning of classified a long time ago."

He stood and walked around his desk, "You want to meet your team? You're gonna love this, two of them are, of all things, scientists."

O'Neill's head jerked up. "What? Pardon, Sir but what the hell are scientists doing out here? Since when are scientists considered field personnel?"

"Since your Command came through, airman. Just be glad none of them are women."

O'Neill found that he was actually impressed with his assigned team. Five men, all officers, all with at least some Special Ops experience. His 2IC would be Major Thomas Corbin, not a scientist, but a well trained obsessive kind of guy who was an ordnance and demolitions expert. He actually built custom explosives in his spare time. He had a couple reprimands in his file for 'inappropriate device usage' which included things like singeing a General's cat when he tried to kill a mouse by adding a small explosive charge to a trap and using real gunpowder to make birthday candles more exciting. O'Neill chuckled as he wondered what kind of little surprises the guy could come up with for the Goa'uld.

The next in rank was Captain Bradley Tucker, Scientist, PhD, Techno-geek. Hopefully dealing with Carter had prepared him to interact with this man. The other scientist was 2nd Lieutenant Mitchell O'Connor. He was not much of a scientist considering the ones O'Neill had spent time around in the SGC. His main focus was biological warfare. This was the guy they'd depend on to keep the team out of harm's way should they have to deal with Saddam's warehouse of chemicals.

The last two members were 2nd Lieutenant Cory Tolbert, a huge honkin', Chicago born, bulldozer of a man who could go a few rounds with Teal'c and maybe win one, and 1st Lieutenant Joey Lambert, just a kid with potential. He'd serve as an aide and communications specialist. Not a bad team considering he wasn't able to handpick them.

The General had mentioned they would be due for some fresh Intel in two days time and suggested O'Neill freelance the men a bit. They needed to become a close-knit team in a very short time and O'Neill knew just the way to accomplish his goal. Get them in a fight.

He managed to have the team assigned to take part in a several hours-long training update on Chemical Weaponry that would bore the tears out of all of them except possibly O'Connor who he was sure knew all the stuff anyway. Afterward he got them to meet in the Officer's Club for a meal. He had seen the deployment orders for a group of Marines and was not disappointed to see them enter the facility.

O'Neill suggested a game of pool and when there were no takers he sauntered over to the Marines for some action. One of them was a man O'Neill thought he recognized as a possible recruit to the SGC. He'd been passed over for numerous counts of insubordination and failure to follow orders. In a way O'Neill felt sorry for the kid, he just had to learn which orders could be ignored.

So, O'Neill feigned being slightly more tipsy than he really was and invited the Marine to a match. When he was ignored, he 'accidentally' bumped the man and sloshed a drink on him. The man was instantly on his feet and glaring at the gray-haired airman with contempt. "Why don't you round up your 'Geeks' and get the hell outta here old man."

That was the opportunity O'Neill was waiting for, "*My* Geeks? I'll have you know its Geeks like them who will save your cheesy butt out here. It takes a guy with an IQ above his waist size understand that." The two men stared at each other for a moment, the Marine not sure if he wanted to deck his assailant or not. He got this desert duty as a disciplinary action and who knows what else they might do if he stepped over the line again. O'Neill smirked as he saw the man weighing the options and made a move to push him over the edge, a low blow to be sure but he had to escalate the encounter. He moved in close and stood eye to eye with the man and jutted out his chin, "Semper. Fi. My. Ass." He stuck his finger into the Marines chest with each word.

That did it. The Marine's fist shot out and clipped his jaw before he could get out of the way. It only helped a little knowing it was coming. Corbin was on his feet and running as the Colonel came back to the Marine with a well-placed uppercut, knocking him off balance. All the other Marines were now on their feet too and Corbin was cussing audibly, "Shit, shit, shit." The General would be mightily displeased if their new CO was put out of commission on his second day in Kuwait.

He engaged the closest Marine by tapping him on the shoulder and taking a jab as the man wheeled around. Two of the Marines had the Colonel pinned face down against the pool table and were preparing to yank him up and do some damage when O'Neill caught the eye of Tolbert, the Chicagoan, and remembered something from his file. The man had wanted to go pro football but had a family crisis at the time and didn't make the cut. He remembered seeing the team sweatshirt in the guy's pile of clothing. O'Neill raised his head a little more and shouted, "Go Bears! Hey, a little help? Season tickets?"

Tolbert wasn't beyond a little bribery and flashed a toothy grin to his CO. It wasn't as if he'd mind a little jarhead whumping anyway. A moment later and two Marines were on the floor. Spurred by the support of the largest member of the group, the other two lieutenants, Mitchell and Lambert entered the foray jumping on the biggest Marine together. Corbin had neutralized his quarry by lighting a flash of something right in his face then shoving him into the wall.

Captain Tucker was still back at the table and finally stood with a sigh, "This is so a bad idea." He'd been called a Geek his whole life and would have let the incident slide and didn't think he'd be able to connect with this hard core Colonel anyway, so what was the point? He stepped in front of a Marine who was preparing to take another swipe at the Colonel and simply peered at the irate man through his glasses and waited for the inevitable. The Marine took him by the shoulder only intending to shove him out of the way but gave an ample opportunity to the black-belt trained Tucker who quickly introduced him to the floor tiles. Tucker then reached his hand out to the bent over Colonel and offered an assist. "Sir, maybe we should leave."

O'Neill was still hunched over from a blow to his stomach and accepted the hand gratefully. He called to Corbin, "Everybody out, now!" Tolbert came over and grabbed his other arm as they headed for the door.

The Jeep ride back to base was uneventful, the team not wanting to disturb their injured CO who now staunchly refused to go to Medical. The two youngest Lieutenants conversed quietly in the rear and Tolbert was driving. O'Neill was in the front passenger seat, trying to ignore the complaints from his bruised body as the Jeep trundled along hitting numerous bumps in the roadway. Tucker had snagged an ice-cold can of soda on the way out and handed it to O'Neill with a gesture to his already slightly bruising jaw. O'Neill accepted it and held the cold metal to his face.

Tucker turned to the Major sitting beside him and smiled, "That was some diversionary tactic you had there, Sir. Blew up the cat when you were a kid, did you?" Corbin smiled back, "No, it was at the Academy and a General's cat too."

Tucker grinned and held out his hand, "Friends call me Tuck." Corbin returned the handshake. "And when did our scientists start taking up the Marshall Arts?"

Tuck laughed, "Oh that started back in high school, when I first had to wear glasses."

O'Neill sighed back into his seat, listening to the friendly banter, mission accomplished. They weren't quite a team yet but the ice had been broken. A few bruises were a small price to pay for the security of dependable backup any day of the week.

The next morning O'Neill was in the General's office taking a beating of another kind. "Dammit O'Neill, I said you could freelance the men a bit, not get into bar fights. What the hell did you think you were doing anyway? I ought to have you brought up on charges and shipped back to wherever you came from because apparently the rules are different back there. We are in a war zone here, no mistaking that and I will not tolerate such blatant disregard for protocol! Understood, airman?"

O'Neill stood stiffly at attention and returned a firm "Yes, Sir."

Seeing the contrite expression on the Colonel's face, Pike leaned back in his chair and relaxed slightly. "Jack, I don't know if that stunt was the stupidest thing I've ever seen or the smartest. I do not think it just happened. I realize you have been involved in quite a few unusual missions and being that you were forced to come besides, I am leaning toward cutting you some slack. Just promise me you'll *try* to stay within boundaries or at least give me a heads up when you're not going to? I've been in need of a 2IC for this base and I thought it might be you."

O'Neill looked closely at his CO's face, "Not what I'm here for, Sir."

"No, you're right, it's not why you're here. That Intel I told you about will be delayed another day whilst some specialist is flown over from stateside. You've got another day with your men, and Colonel, I don't want to see any more bruises on you, or them. Dismissed."

"Understood, Sir. Thank you, Sir." O'Neill spun on his heels and quickly exited the room only to find Tuck hanging out in the corridor.

"A little harmless eavesdropping, Captain?"

"Sir, no, Sir. I just, ah-"

"Don't sweat it. I deserved it after all."

"Sir, about that, what the General said about it being the smartest thing he'd ever seen?"

"That's not exactly what he said." O'Neill started walking away.

"Yeah, well, partially." Tuck hurried to catch up, "I mean, you did set us up back there didn't you? That was a plan to get us to start working together."

O'Neill kept walking and didn't return the airman's gaze. They were outside the building now and Tuck continued, "May I speak frankly Sir?"

"Always, Captain."

"Helluva way to start a Command, Sir."

A smile momentarily flicked across O'Neill's face. "Maybe so. We only have two days to get up to speed, Tucker, I'm not having someone watch my back whom I have never seen in action."

"Likewise I'm sure. But I get the distinct feeling it was more for us to get to know each other than for you. And it's Tuck."

O'Neill let a smile broaden as he was reminded of another most perceptive scientist of his acquaintance. "Okay, Tuck it is, how about we go find the guys and see what they're doin'? We've just been given another day to do some intensive training."

Tuck was horrified, "Sir, you know it's supposed to be nearly 125 degrees today, what sort of training did you have in mind?"

"Submersible recognizance, Captain."

Tucks eyes widened even more and his voice cracked slightly, "But we're in the middle of a *desert*, Sir."

O'Neill put his arm around the younger man's neck and spoke quietly into his ear, "And Al Jaber has a pool."

Tuck mentally filed away his observations of this most unusual CO and allowed himself to be led to the barracks.

The next day the team was once again at the larger base and O'Neill wondered why they weren't just assigned quarters there until further notice. Today they'd get the Intel about the mission and have to listen to another drawn out lecture from most likely some stuffy academic who thought they knew more than anyone else in the room. Unfortunately from previous experience, O'Neill knew they might be right.

His team was already seated at the tables set up facing the front as in a classroom. The General was there and a few other scientific/ intelligence sorts who may be involved or have something to add.

O'Neill paused at the front of the room eyeing the figure in desert cammo who was bent over away from him going through a box on the floor. He blinked and thought those were awfully nice hips for some soldier or even scientist. Suddenly the head came up revealing tousled blonde hair. He took a step further into the room, 'can't be.'

As if feeling his scrutiny the scientist turned around and looked directly into his eyes. Brown eyes met blue with complete and utter shock.

He crossed the distance between them in two long strides and grasped her arm. He swung her away from the assembled group and hushed his voice as much as he could. "Carter! What the hell are you doing here?"

She was glad to see him but managed to maintain her military decorum, "Colonel, they reassigned me here. For the short term, anyway. Something came up after you left and the Pentagon decided I needed to come. I should have guessed it would be you who'd be heading up this mission."

His eyes narrowed requesting a bit more from her. "In short, Sir, according to Intel, Hussein may have gotten his hands on a small quantity of Naquadah."

"I already knew about that, kinda why I'm here. So what's he going to do with it? Blow himself up? He doesn't have the technology to exploit it and might I add it is stupid to bring someone with the expertise to use it so close to the front lines."

"Too late, Sir. Two scientists from Area 51 are missing, they were assigned to the Naquadah/Naquadria Project."

He lowered his head and cursed, he didn't know about that. "Shit, Carter, could it get any worse?"

"Uh, well, two of the mimic devices are gone too."

O'Neill sighed and noticed the General was now watching his encounter with the Major. He abruptly took a step back. "We'll talk later, you've got a briefing to give." He nodded to the General and quickly took a seat at the back of the room avoiding any more eye contact with his CO.

As usual, Carter's briefing went over the heads of most everyone present. She neatly referred to the stolen substance as rare metal 'N' circumventing any questions about Naquadah and generally described it as a conditionally unstable metal with the ability to potentiate any explosion. She was able to give them a relatively good idea of the uses and risks of dealing with the substance while not giving away all the classified information she knew about it. The briefing concluded with Carter answering the many questions posed by the scientists in the group.

Finally over they were dismissed and most everyone headed for the commissary and lunch. General Pike had a number of observations with which to deliberate with O'Neill and commandeered a nearby office to continue in private. Unfortunately one of the observations included O'Neill's encounter with the Major before the briefing.

"I take it you have met Major Carter before."

O'Neill had been waiting for the ball to drop and here it was. He avoided looking the General in the eye and replied, "Yes, Sir. We've served together before."

"You seemed to have a bit of a problem with her presence here."

"No, Sir, not at all."

"O'Neill, you're a lousy liar. Well whatever the problem is, I expect you to get over it, and I do mean now. Her expertise involving this mineral, metal or whatever is far above any of the other intellectuals around here and your scientists will need to work closely with her to develop the most feasible mission plan. Make use of her knowledge now while you have the chance, the success of this mission is dependent on it. Now go on, take a break, but be back at Al Salem this afternoon with your team."

O'Neill returned to the briefing room to find Carter and Tucker deeply in conversation about matter energy conversions or something equally incomprehensible. He broke into their discussion, "I thought everyone was going to lunch?"

Carter shrugged and looked at her watch, noting the time was well past 1400. "Actually I'm starved. Is the commissary any good here?"

"No Jell-O."

Tuck looked at his CO. "Jell-O?"

"It's a long story, come on, let's eat." With that the trio set off for some refreshment.

Tuck was first through the line and scooted in beside Corbin at the table. Tolbert was directly across from him and the Lieutenants O'Connor and Lambert were at the far end of the table having gotten into a deep discussion about a local sporting event.

When O'Neill and Carter were through the line instead of joining the others at the table they moved off to a corner by themselves where they could talk privately. Major Corbin had picked up on Tuck's interest in the Major during the briefing and decided a comment was in order when he noticed the man staring at the two across the room. "Smart lady."

"Huh?" Tuck had been lost in his thoughts and had barely touched his lunch.

"Major Carter. She's a smart woman."

"Oh, yeah. God, smart isn't the word; I think I learned more from her in fifteen minutes than I did in a whole semester in college. She's amazing."

Yep, Corbin had seen that coming, "Whoa, boy. How'd she go from 'smart' to 'amazing'? Don't you go getting any ideas about that one."

Tuck turned to him, mouth agape then looked back at the Colonel and Major. "What? Why not? You think they've got history?"

"Oh, Yeah. Even a blind man could see it. Believe me, that is one unavailable female."

"You're imagining things."

"I think not," he pretended to be insulted, "keep watching."

As they continued to observe, the Colonel must have said something witty because the Major suddenly burst out laughing and reached out to grasp his right arm. He did not move away but instead covered her hand with his left. Her face then softened into a million dollar grin as their hands moved back from the brief contact. They sat not talking, just smiling at each other.

"Aw, crap." Tuck lamented, "Remind me in the future to keep my mind on the mission. You sure he's not her father? He's got to be old enough."

Corbin smirked, "Tuck, you're hopeless, no dad looks at his kid like that! I mean look at them, if it wasn't for all the people in this room they'd be makin' out right where they are."

Carter immediately dove into her sandwich when they finally got to a table. O'Neill decided he wasn't all that hungry after that talk with Pike and opted only for a coffee and cake.

"So rare metal 'N', who came up with that one?"

"I know it's lame but it's the best we could come up with on short notice."

O'Neill sighed, "We've got a lot to talk about, but not here." He shifted gears into small talk, "Anybody else shipped out back home?"

They continued to chat and O'Neill related the 'training exercise' he'd engineered in the bar eliciting a whoop of laughter from his former 2IC. They fell into a companionable silence for a little while, not disturbed by the din of people moving around them.

"The General asked me to come out to Al Salem and look over their lab."

Surprised O'Neill responded, "You're staying in Kuwait?"

"Don't worry, I'm supposed to head back by the end of the week, I'm just here to get your guys up to speed." She wagged a fork at him. "You gonna finish that cake?"

Later that afternoon, O'Neill was summoned to the General's office. It seemed he was more than impressed with the Major and wanted her to stay on for an extended time.

"You can't do that General!"

"And why the hell not? Colonel, after the briefings today I am more than convinced we are dealing with a highly unstable material and we can use all the expertise we can get to handle it. I don't think she can teach your men enough in the next day or so to pull off this mission."

"Sir, that level of expertise is needed only when you get into research and development, not search and recover missions, besides we already have someone on the team who is more than familiar enough with the properties and potential hazards associated with the metal."

Pike eyed the Colonel warily, he'd suspected as much. "You know, her file is almost as classified as yours and you both transferred out of Cheyenne Mountain? I take it *you* are the one you're referring to?"

O'Neill considered he may have already said too much but admitted, "Yes, Sir. I am."

"Well the decision is out of my hands anyway- it seems some of those high-altitude friends of yours pulled the strings on her too. The transfer papers have already gone through, with regards from the Pentagon. She's on your team. I'm told she's got some specialized covert skills you could use."

O'Neill knew he was fishing for more information but he'd said all he was going to say at this point. There was no way in hell he was going to allow Carter across the Iraqi border but if Hussein did in fact have access to those shape shifting devices Carter's know-how would really come in handy. He hated it but had to relent at last. "I won't condone orders sending her into hostile territory." He said flatly.

"And I hope it won't come to that." Pike let his shoulders sag a bit, he really did like this Colonel but his patience had a limit. "Let's just play it by ear for now, Colonel, and see how things pan out."

O'Neill nodded curtly and was dismissed by the General.

He headed for the women's barracks and was escorted to the Major by an enlisted female assigned to assist her. Carter had only packed a small bag thinking she would only be there a day or two at most and was already settled in.

She looked up when he came in. Despite the fans and air conditioning she was perspiring a little. "I forgot how hot it could get here on earth."

"Oh, this is nothing, just wait 'till the breeze dies down, there's hot and there's Saudi hot. I may yet learn to appreciate Antarctica." He grinned at her. "You got some time we can talk about stuff?"

"Actually I've got a meeting with General Pike in a few minutes, he's been cleared to be briefed on the missing men and even about the missing devices. Maybe we should all meet together, then I wouldn't have to go over it all twice."

"Sure, I don't think the General would have a problem with that. One thing though, he knows we've worked at the same base before but I haven't enlightened him much beyond that. I've been walking a fine line with clearance issues."

"Understandable." She walked with him outside the portable building. "Hopefully I can resolve some of that. I've got permission from General Vidrine at the Pentagon to tell him quite a lot about Area 51projects, I just can't tell him where the technology really comes from."

"By the way have you been, ah, informed of any updates to your assignment?"

"No. Should I have been?"

"Yeah, well, the General was quite taken with you in your briefing, he seems to feel you could be of some help if you stayed on."

"Gee, thanks." She rolled her eyes.

"Sorry, Carter. He doesn't think 'us boys' can do it without you. Not only are you staying, you're on my team."

"You're kidding, right?"

"Well, I'm not that bad to work for am I?"

"No, that's not what I meant." It was her turn to apologize. She shook her head and smiled at his feigned insult. "It's just, here we are, on the other side of the planet, in a completely different situation and you're still my CO."

He shrugged, "Can't get enough of a good thing?"

She ignored the comment, "Aren't we supposed to be somewhere?"

The General looked up from his desk and seeing the two officers waved them in. "Colonel, weren't you just here?"

"Sir, some of the information the Major plans to brief you on has a direct impact on the mission. If you don't mind I'd like to sit in."

Pike nodded. Maybe the Colonel didn't know as much as he'd originally thought. That idea was dispelled as Carter discussed advanced technologies, Area 51 projects, and the missing scientists, O'Neill didn't bat an eye. None of this seemed to be new information to him. The General, himself, however went from surprise to astonishment to utter disbelief.

"And you're saying these 'devices' can completely alter a man's appearance, down to the smallest detail?"

"Exactly, Sir. They can be programmed with the information using any laptop computer with the right software, and we're not sure if that was taken as well."

The Colonel leaned back in his chair, "Oh, they've got it alright. That's probably how they kidnapped the scientists, didn't you say there was no evidence on the security cameras that they ever left the base?"

"You're right, Sir. It may have been easier to disguise them than to circumvent the cameras. What we don't know is if they left willingly."

The General's expression was dire; "People are allowed to work with these things when their loyalties are not assured?"

Carter quickly answered, "Of course not, but there are 'factions' within our own government who are not always in agreement with the current focus of research and development."

"CIA?"

"Sometimes, but mostly NID."

Pike glanced at the Colonel, "None of this is news to you?" O'Neill only shrugged.

"Very well. This mission has just gotten a whole lot more complicated. We've gone from a little retrieval mission to search and rescue, and retrieval of not one but two very different items. Rescue of the American citizens will be the priority, then the metal and the devices. If retrieval becomes unattainable you will destroy the metal and technology, though I'd love to see it work."

O'Neill and Carter were dismissed to begin planning the complex mission.

Carter spent the rest of the day with Tucker and O'Connor explaining some of what the scientists had been working on. O'Neill met with his 2IC, Corbin and the two Lieutenants Tolbert and Lambert discussing the destructive power of the rare metal 'N'. He could see Corbin was salivating with the desire to obtain some of the metal and try it out for himself.

"You say it can potentiate any other explosive device by a factor of one hundred? How is that possible?"

"You'll have to ask the scientists that one." O'Neill admitted. "Just let me say I have seen it myself and you do not want to be anywhere around when it goes off. Our mission is to retrieve it but if that's not possible we'll have to detonate it, safely."

The large Tolbert blew out a soft whistle, "Ain't nothin' safe about that stuff. From what you're saying we'd be fools to set it off."

"It can be done, but that's why I'd much rather retrieve it and get it back where it belongs, in American hands."

The team got together and O'Neill laid out the surveillance Intel the base had gathered over the past few days. They had a good idea of where the scientists would be, and that the metal would be at the same location. It was not known where the other devices would be though. That part of the mission might be impossible to complete. They broke for a late evening meal and sat together at the same table to eat. Conversation was muted as they couldn't discuss much of the mission in public and it had been a long day anyway.

O'Neill said goodnight to the Major at the door to the commissary. "Satellite photos should be in early tomorrow, you want to meet back here for breakfast then go check them out?"

"Actually there's something I'd like to talk with you about, before we get too far into the planning process."

He looked at her, questioning. "Now?"

"No, I'm beat, jet lag and all. How about first thing in the morning?"

"Okay, they serve breakfast 'till 0800, so, how about 0715 at the lab?"

"Sounds good, see you then." She gave him a tired smile and headed to the barracks.
The next morning bright and early O'Neill was in the lab waiting for Carter with two steaming cups of coffee. The desert air was chilly and since they weren't going directly to breakfast he figured it would be welcome. She loved her coffee almost as much as Daniel used to.

Carter pushed the door open with her shoulder, lugging her laptop in one arm and an assortment of folders and papers in the other. "Ooh, is that coffee I smell?"

"Yabetcha." He cleared a spot on the large center table for her load and set the cup in front of her.

The coffee was of the dark, rich, slightly bitter variety and she added some creamer to it to smooth it a bit. She sat down and nestled the cup in her hands warming them and let her eyes close as she inhaled the aroma.

He smiled at her, "So what's up?"

"Oh, yeah." She flipped open the laptop and powered it up then picked up a flat zippered pouch about the size of a small book. She unzipped it on three sides and opened it flat to reveal eight 'memory stick' cards for the computer. As she went through her pockets looking for something else he slid one of the plastic strips out of it's slot and held it up.

"This is a memory card for a digital camera, right?"

"Almost, very similar, could be used for one, but it holds a lot more information." With that she produced another flat black case a little smaller than the first and unzipped it. She opened the case and laid it on the table so he could see the two mimic devices she'd brought.

"General Hammond thought these would be useful. He had to call in some favors to get permission for me to take them out of the country." She took out a long cable and plugged one end into the back of her computer and the other into a small adapter, which snapped onto one of the devices. She took another quick sip of coffee and tapped her fingers as she waited for something to come up on her computer screen.

The computer beeped and she reached over and took the card from O'Neill. "Watch this."

She slid the card in its slot and her fingers flew over the keyboard inputting a command line. As he peered over her shoulder, a 3-D image of an ordinary-looking man of Middle Eastern descent appeared on the screen, complete with robes and a turban.

Carter tapped a few more keys and announced, "That's it!" She disconnected the device from the adapter and held it up by the edges.

"That's all? You're telling me you just programmed it, just like that?" O'Neill was amazed and reached out his hand. She gave it to him but warned, "Don't let the back of it touch your skin or it will activate."

He eyed the device warily, "So how long is it good for?"

"Approximately five minutes, maybe more."

A sly grin crept onto O'Neill's face; "I've been told the General usually skips breakfast- he's probably in his office right now."

"You're not thinking-"

"He did want to see this work."

"And you're just gonna stroll into his office, like that?" She gestured to the device.

"No." He raised his eyebrows and played at being indignant. "Do you have your sidearm?" O'Neill knew everyone was expected to carry some form of personal protection here on the front lines.

She took her Berretta out and set it on the table with a smile.

He nodded approvingly, "Good, just in case someone stops us, Major, you just captured a spy. Let's go." With that he slid the device under his shirt at the collar and touched it to his skin. It latched on and his body morphed into the form of the Arab.

They immediately headed for the door and walked straight into Tuck.

"What the hell? Major are you alright? Who is this man?"

O'Neill decided to get into character and answered him in a perfect Iraqi dialect. Carter had been first through the door and now her hesitation to answer was all it took to send Tuck over the edge. He grabbed the man and quickly shoved him face down to the floor and pulled his hands behind his back.

"Shit, Tuck! Get off me, that hurt!"

Tuck jerked off the man, astonished to hear a familiar sounding voice come out of him. He looked at the Major in confusion.

"It's okay, Tuck. This is a friend. We were on our way to see General Pike. You want to come along?"
She gave Tuck a completely innocent look and reached her hand out to O'Neill to help him up.

Tuck stood up, still unable to process what was going on and nodded to the Major. He was really confused when she pulled out the gun and pointed it toward the man, making him walk in front of her. They marched the short distance to the General's office with Tuck following like a puppy.

Luckily, due to the early hour it wasn't difficult to get inside. With only a minute left Carter knocked on the General's door.

"Come."

The door opened and to the General's complete surprise an unknown Arab entered his office. He was already calling for security before he noticed Carter and Tuck behind the man.

"What's the meaning of this?" He spoke as he leapt to his feet. He turned to Tuck who was still looking dazed and roared, "Who is this man?"

O'Neill thought he'd take a chance Pike could at least understand a little Iraqi and bowed deeply, voicing a common greeting in the foreign tongue.

Pike glared back and forth between Carter and Tuck. O'Neill stood and held his hands up to the General in an effort to show him there was no danger yet not give himself away just yet.

There was silence in the room for several seconds when suddenly the Arab man shimmered.

Pike took a step back and so did Tuck who was standing so close he was nearly touching the man.

The image shimmered again, then changed to reveal the form of Colonel O'Neill.

Pike didn't know if he should be furious, relieved, or impressed. He opted for somewhere in between. "Damn, Colonel, that's twice! One more time and I swear-" He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Sir, you did request a demonstration."

Pike glared at him but instead of going into a tirade, he burst out in a laugh of relief, running his fingers through his hair. "Colonel, I give up. I just thank God you're on our side."
The rest of the day was spent going over Intel. Who was where, what their schedules were, how heavily guarded the buildings were. It was still a daunting task they had set before them, but if the Intel was good, it was a doable thing.

By that evening they were near ready to go. The Department of Defense had wanted to make sure anything they might need was already enroute when O'Neill was chosen as the mission commander several days before Hammond's speech back at the SGC, so they had him meet with a representative of the DTRA (Defense Threat Reduction Agency) while still in Cheyenne mountain and give them an idea of what equipment would be needed in addition to the regulation supplies and weapons the Air Force would issue them. O'Neill had, in his usual fashion, given them an extensive list of gear, heavy on armament, of course. They had come through with flying colors as far as O'Neill was concerned, every item on his 'wish list' was accounted for and then some.

Corbin was in his element, as he looked over the available ordnance, everything was state of the art. They'd be carrying P-90's at O'Neill's request and Corbin tested the weight of the weapon in his hands and nodded as he adjusted the silencer. O'Neill had made a good choice.

The scientists were being held in an unmarked building with three floors. The sleeping quarters were on the second level and the lab, presumably with the 'N' was in the basement of the structure. Apparently someone thought they might be more careful with the substance if they were in close proximity to it at all times.

The plan was to be dropped in by helicopter as near the target complex as possible and divide up into two teams. One team would enter the rear door and take out the single guard there. They would then sabotage the power and phone lines. They also would have the capability of setting up a device to interfere with radio transmissions but wouldn't be able to use it until they were sure the 'N' wasn't booby trapped in some way. A radio signal or the lack thereof was known to set off any number of mechanisms.

The second team would take out the two front guards and enter the structure there. They'd need to move quietly and subdue at least one more guard in a security center on the main floor and another in the second floor hallway. They expected to find an additional guard within the sleeping quarters.

After securing the release of the scientists, team two would move to the main floor and hold there while team one went to the basement lab. If necessary for access, one of the scientists might have to accompany them. Once in the lab, they'd either remove the 'N' or set a tiny explosive charge. They needed just enough to set it off, although it would likely still level the building or worse.

There was still no Intel on the whereabouts of the mimic devices and O'Neill was hoping the scientists would be of some help.
O'Neill ordered team one to consist of himself, Tuck and Lambert. Team two would be Corbin, Tolbert and O'Connor.

Carter noticed her name was conspicuously missing from the roster. "And where do you want me, Sir?"

"You will coordinate pick up in the chopper."

"Sir, I really think I'd be more helpful on the ground."

"Major, you are not getting off the helicopter! You got that!"

She bristled with indignation, "Sir, a word?"

He motioned to a small office to the back of the lab. She entered first and he followed closing the door behind him.

"Colonel, I think I've proven myself in combat situations. I mean, it's not like we're dealing with the Goa'uld here!"

"You're right. They're not Goa'uld. They're Iraqi- in a lot of ways that makes them worse."

"With all due respect Colonel, you need me out there. Do you realize how many holes are in your plan? What if the scientists are working with the Iraqi willingly? What if they don't have access to the lab? Besides that, if you need to use the mimic devices, you'll need me to program them."

"You can program them in advance, and as far as the lab in concerned, if we can't get in, we'll just blow it."

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. "Right, just blow it up. Do you know what we had to do to obtain that Naquadah in the first place?"

"Yes, I do. If you recall, I have been the second in command of the SGC for some time. It just may be that very little goes on around there that doesn't generate a report that comes across my desk."

"I didn't know you'd become such an avid reader."

She was getting nasty now. His eyes blazed as he prepared to lash back at her. He glanced through the large window to the central area of the building and frowned. Quite a show they were putting on for the guys.

He lowered his voice and forced some control there. "Carter, look, I know you are an able soldier, but you are much too valuable to be put so directly in harms way."

Her glare had softened somewhat into a frown. "I should go, Sir."

He moved to the corner of the room away from the window and motioned for her to come near. Out of sight of the rest of his team his expression softened greatly. "Not this time."

She wasn't done yet. "I can get you into the lab, no matter what kind of lock they've got on the door. We really need that Naquadah."

"Tuck could probably do it."

"I'd be faster."

Ooh, he was so losing this argument. A moment of hesitation showed on his face and she immediately ran with it. She spoke with the calmness of one with the upper hand. "They'll have security cameras and you'll need someone to circumvent them, cutting the power would be too noticeable, we need to get someone inside who can disable the network quickly and without attracting attention from any monitoring stations."

He sighed, considering her words.

She continued, "I can wear one of the mimic devices when I first go in and neutralize the guard before he knows what's going on."

Shit. She was right. Only Carter could make it happen. He leaned forward holding her eyes in a captive stare. His voice had that deep tone she'd only heard once or twice before, like when he ordered her to leave Cassie behind in the bunker. The growl of an order that *will* be obeyed. "With me, and absolutely no heroics. Carter, so help me, if you make me regret this-"

She blinked quickly and responded, "I won't." She bit her lip, looking for a reply.

His eyes didn't release her yet and he nodded ever so slightly. "We've got work to do."

O'Neill ignored the knowing smile on Corbin's face as they resumed ironing out he plans for the mission. At 2100 Hrs he ordered them all to get some rest and meet at the helicopter pad at 0100, the mission was a go for Valentine's Day, 02.14.
Everyone was early as O'Neill expected, but they looked reasonably rested at least. The hangar had an area set aside for them to kit up and check their supplies. They could only take along what they could carry on their backs and given that speed was going to be of consequence here, the packs would have to be light.

Everyone was dressed in flat black with black ball caps and smudged faces. Tolbert, being of a dark skin tone really didn't need it but applied some anyway to cut the shine.

They took off at 0200 and immediately the helicopter was in stealth mode. Flying as low as possible the craft took a somewhat non-direct route to avoid populated areas and military installations. After an hour they were within sight of the drop zone.

Luckily the area was near previously bombed out buildings that had never been rebuilt after the Gulf War, they stood abandoned and provided minimal cover for the descending craft. This would be the primary pick up if their luck held and If not they'd have to sprint a good ways due west and get to the roof of another abandoned structure.

O'Neill motioned for them to power up their night vision goggles and prepare to disembark. They had already gone through a radio and secondary weapons check moments before. The craft set down and with a firm nod to his 2IC, O'Neill gave the order to move out.

Major Corbin was first on the ground, crouching and moving swiftly away to the shadows. The others followed in single file with O'Neill being last. As he stepped off he turned to the pilot and shot him a glance.

O'Neill had chosen this man to fly them when he recognized his name on the pilots roster. They'd served together many years ago in a situation far more similar than either wanted to admit. They both knew there was a possibility the mission would fail and the team would not survive. The same now as it was then.

The pilot quickly saluted the Colonel, who returned it with a nod. Unspoken words passed between the two veteran soldiers, 'Come back for us.' 'I won't leave you behind.'

The complex was well guarded but the team was able to stay hidden in the shadows and made good time to the correct building. They divided off into their respective groups and O'Neill knelt facing Corbin, whispering final orders. Corbin nodded, he really didn't need any additional instructions but he had led a few incursions himself and knew it was as much for O'Neill's benefit as his own. He motioned to Tolbert and O'Connor to follow him. Tolbert smiled showing his white teeth, "Showtime."

O'Neill now turned to his own group, and pointed to an alley leading to the back of the building. "Tuck, on point. I've got the six."

Crouching and moving in short spurts, they turned the corner and approached the entryway. O'Neill tossed a stone across the yard and Tuck leapt up behind the guard and deftly chopped the man at the base of his neck, rendering him unconscious. Lambert whipped out plastic ties and bound the man's hands and feet then he and Carter dragged him around to the alley where she taped his mouth to keep him quiet if he awoke. Tuck was already clipping the telephone lines and putting a small charge on the power cable. They'd decided not to disable the power right away as first planned but it was still a backup option.
Corbin's team held at the front entrance as ordered and waited for an all clear from the security camera room. He hadn't been in on just how Carter was going to get into the room and subdue the guard with no help. He'd objected strongly thinking O'Neill had gone daft sending in a woman, but was over-ruled by both the Colonel and the Major herself.

The Colonel charged Lambert with keeping an eye on the alley only to keep him busy for a few minutes while Carter prepared to go in. Tuck, being already privy to the shape-shifting technology was allowed to be there. He'd been told in no uncertain terms by the General that the information would go no further. He knelt beside the Major as she took out one of the devices and attached it to her skin just below her collarbone and
watched her image morph into that of a young Iraqi man.

She looked at the Colonel who nodded his approval and pulled a small plastic box out of his pack. It looked like a first-aid kit but in fact contained several syringes pre-filled with a powerful sedative. O'Neill pointed to his radio and made a hand motion reminding her to click twice when she was in position.

She nodded and left the shadows for the door. Only a few minutes later O'Neill's radio came to life. And he moved straight for the doorway, not wasting any time. He whispered into his mike, "Lambert, to the back door and hold, now."

In the security room Carter was already familiarizing herself with the setup. The Colonel was satisfied it was secure and radioed the other team. "Corbin?"

"Here Colonel."

"Cameras are secure, move in."

Corbin's team quickly took out the front guards and moved into the house and up the steps quietly. Before they made it to the top heavy footsteps were heard coming in their direction. The guard leaned slowly around the corner with his gun out in front, ready to fire.

Tolbert was the one in best position to fire on the man and made eye contact with his team leader for permission to do it. Corbin blinked his eyes slowly and deliberately giving his consent to the use of lethal force.

Tolbert's P-90 came to life in a single muffled burst and the Arab man fell, the weapon clattering on the floor as he went.

O'Neill and the other's could hear it from their location and he frowned. He keyed the mike, "Report."

The Major answered with a hint of irritation in his voice, "We're okay. One of the guards made us. No choice."

'Dammit', O'Neill cursed under his breath. There were still one of two more guards, not counting any more that may be asleep on the next floor up. They couldn't afford to alert them. He keyed the mike again, "Keep moving Major."

Corbin didn't bother to answer but silently moved un up the steps, two doors were open to empty rooms, the third closed. If only the occupants were asleep they'd be okay.

He waited for Tolbert and O'Connor to take up backup positions beside him and unlatched the door. The room was lit only by a shaft of moonlight coming in the window and the two sleeping forms did not stir.

The men stepped into the room and Corbin motioned to each of his men to take one of the sleepers. Barely in position, the sleeping men suddenly came to life, fighting. They hadn't yet been alerted to something being wrong in the house, and the Lieutenants were well trained and easily subdued the men with minimal noise.

Corbin clicked his radio, "Colonel?"

"O'Neill, go."

"We've got two men, I believe they are the scientists we're looking for."

One of the men slipped out of O'Connor's grasp and made a dive for freedom through the door but Corbin was too fast and stepped in with a right cross. The man fell to the floor unconscious.

Tolbert looked at his charge with eyes of steel. "So, you got any ideas too?"

The man held his hands up and croaked out a plea, "Wait. No, don't hurt me. We were forced, you see-"

Corbin was in his face, "And you are?"

"Doctor Wallace, Fred Wallace. I'm an American, a scientist. He's Dr. Locke."

"We know who you are, and we've got an idea what you are doing. We just don't know why."

"Really, it wasn't the money, not at first. We had some ideas to take the research to the next level but were not permitted to do what we wanted."

Corbin was disgusted. These scientists they were supposed to rescue were traitors! He keyed his mike, "Colonel, we've got them. All clear to come down?"

"All clear. Tuck will meet you at the stairs."

A few minutes later they met in the security room. O'Neill faced the scientists with disdain on his face after hearing Corbin's report. "You know why we're here. We intend to take back what is ours- with your help or not. Your rescue was first priority. Notice I said 'was', if you help us it will be noted in our reports and may send some leniency your way at your hearings. If you don't choose to help us, we will make no extreme efforts to bring you home safely. Be advised I'm inclined to shoot you right here and get on with our mission."

The older scientist spoke up, "What do you want?"

"First, access to the lab."

"We can't, we've only been allowed in there when one of their own senior scientists accompany us. Really, we can't help you."

O'Neill glanced at Carter and she offered an observation. "Sir, on the video it looks like a fairly simple pass code setup. We only need to find the right codes."

"No, no. It's much more than that," Wallace blurted out. The other scientist shot him an icy look.

O'Neill stepped between the men obscuring their view of each other, "Then what is it?"

Contritely the man continued, "There is a palm scanner, too, at least one of the senior scientists must be present."

"Carter, can you get past that?"

"I can try, Sir."

Tuck wasn't about to be left out this time- he'd already hacked into the computer and found some personnel files, including ones of a very senior looking scientist. His ability to read fluent Iraqi was a major advantage he had over Carter. "Sir, I can do it. We've got files and detailed info. Maybe we can use one of your toys to impersonate one of them."

Corbin's head shot up. "Toys?"

"Need to know, Major. Need to know." O'Neill growled.

Corbin was pissed but held it behind narrowed eyes.

O'Neill turned away from him. "Tuck, Carter, do what you can. We don't have a lot of time- like twenty minutes, maybe. If it doesn't work, we blow it."

The kindred minds both with blue eyes nodded and set to the task. Carter set up her laptop and gave quick instructions to Tuck. All they needed was a palm print, not the whole person. He dug through the files and came up with a possible match.

Carter busied herself with her computer until Tuck found something useful, then ran the file through a translation program and converted it to English. O'Neill checked in with Lambert at the rear entrance and O'Connor who was up front, leaving Corbin observing the monitors and Tolbert in control of the prisoners.

O'Neill returned and paced, occasionally eyeing the prisoners, "Carter."

"Just a few more minutes."

"Carter, we're due for a patrol to check in soon." He tapped his watch.

"Just a few more- I need to alter the parameters, I never anticipated only doing a partial pattern. Got it, I think!" She quickly snapped the device into the clip and pressed the keys to complete the programming.

Corbin was having a hard time keeping his eyes on the monitor and not watching what Tuck and Carter were doing. He caught a glimpse of a small round silvery object Carter was hooking up to her computer though. Noticing a scowl from O'Neill he turned his eyes away and back to the monitors.

O'Neill, Carter and Tuck then headed to the basement. The first couple of doors were easily picked locks, then came the final door and the scanner. Carter attached the device to the base of her neck and nothing happened. She readjusted it and waited, looking at her hands, expecting something. "I don't get it. This should be working."

Tuck reached for the disk, "I think I understand a little of the programming and you're right, it should have worked."

He grasped the disk and pressed it forcefully to his forearm. Immediately his hand began to change. He looked at his two hands oddly, one was his, but the other was weathered and of a darker, Middle-eastern skin tone. He marveled at the change.

Carter was fascinated as well, she expected that the only part that would change was the programmed part, but it was amazing to see.

O'Neill shook his head at the easily sidetracked scientists and grabbed Tuck's hand and stuck it to the scanner. The panel immediately lit up and the door to the lab slid open with a whoosh.

Inside was a fully equipped, state of the art laboratory. O'Neill stepped in and gave a low whistle. "Never woulda guessed."

He looked back at Carter and Tuck who were now entering the room and noted their expressions. "Now before your eyes gloss over, remember why we're here. Carter, what kind of storage are we looking for?"

"Not very big necessarily, but fortified with lead and steel, likely."

"Like a vault of some kind?"

"Like this?" Tuck was standing beside a tall metal box that looked like a gun safe. "There were numerous warnings written on it in Iraqi.

"Yeah, just like that." Carter crossed the floor to him.

"So if it's not radioactive, why store it like this?"

"Because radioactivity can set it off."

"Oh." Tuck was embarrassed, he should have thought of that.

O'Neill was getting that creepy feeling something wasn't right and scanned the room, the tip of his weapon following his eye movements. "Carter, now would be a good time."

They both nodded to him and forced the small vault open, the Naquadah was only a small quantity but she could barely lift the four-inch rectangular blocks.

Tuck was amazed, "How can something so small weigh so much?"

O'Neill cut off Carter before she could answer, "What about the rest?"

Carter looked around the lab, "I don't know, Sir. Could be anywhere I guess."

"So what are we looking for?" Tuck asked.

"Two more of those." Carter pointed to the mimic device still on Tuck's arm.

"Aw, crap! Saddam's got access to these things?"

"Well, I'm guessing he doesn't know how to use them. Not yet anyway."

"Okay, we really are short on time here." O'Neill had an idea. "Please, tell me you reprogrammed the other device and it's ready to go."

"Actually I did, Sir. It's in the case by my laptop."

He grinned. "Carter, you always make my day." He then turned to the side and spoke into his radio, "Corbin?"

"Here."

"Okay, Major. Now you need to know. Have you been watching the time?"

"Yes, Sir. We're due for a patrol any minute now." His voice revealed his worry that they may be discovered.

"Right. Open the case next to Carter's computer and take out the silver disk thingy. Touch it only by the edges. Who up there speaks Iraqi?"

"Tuck's the best, but he's down there with you."

"Anybody else?" Damn, no time for this.

"Uh, myself and Lambert does a little."

"Okay, you'll do. I want you to take a position up near the front door and wait for the patrol to approach. Carry one of their weapons, not ours, understood?"

"Colonel?" His voice was blatantly fearful now.

"Corbin! Relax, that's an order! The device is a disguise. I'll tell you everything you need to know to make it work. Think of it like a hologram. It will make you look like an Iraqi for maybe five minutes. To activate it, you need to place the flat backside of it in contact with your skin. Don't use it too soon because of the limited time. When you're ready, put it under your shirt on your chest."

"You're kidding me, right?"

"Wish I was. Now get out there and make sure they don't suspect anything. Try not to talk too much, just a standard greeting and some praise Allah stuff. Do *not* get into a conversation and do *not* forget the time limit."

Corbin was gulping and shaking. He was about to go face to face with two or three Iraqis with only some weird device hiding his face from them.

While O'Neill had been giving instructions to Corbin, Carter and Tuck started opening drawers and cabinets.
They virtually ransacked the lab and found nothing. "Maybe they're not here, Sir. This probably isn't the only lab set up to study this kind of technology."

"It would have been nice to wrap up all our packages together, you know. All right, partial mission success, best we can do." He was thoughtful for a moment. "Carter, break out the C-4."

"You're gonna blow the lab?"

"Yep. You want them to keep this going?" She had no answer to that one so she dropped her pack to the floor and laid out several of the blocks. They each took some and set the charges around the lab, then O'Neill gave the order to head out. They'd have to be at some distance to destroy the lab and not detonate the Naquadah.

Tuck wrapped up the blocks of strange metal and stuck them in his pack then shouldered it. By the time they got to the top of the stairs he was panting heavily. O'Neill had everyone check in and found Corbin indeed had to face a small patrol and they'd gone on their way oblivious to the American presence.

It was time for them to head out. Dawn was fast approaching and the sky was already a dark shade of grayish-blue. Tolbert had been given the duty of carrying their heavy prize out to the pickup since he was the most muscular of the group. Corbin took point and had Lambert call via satellite link for the evac at the drop coordinates.

Everything was going according to plan until Locke decided they might actually get away with it. The younger of the rescued-but-didn't-want-to-be men decided he'd rather take his chances with the Iraqis than spend the rest of his life in a cell back home. He started struggling and yelling curses at them; he knew the dawn patrol couldn't be far away, it was likely the break in at the lab was being discovered right now.

The sound of many feet and the clatter of metal was more than enough alert they were in trouble. O'Neill nodded to Corbin who was carrying the detonator and he pressed the buttons. In the distance they heard multiple explosions and even felt the shock wave as it went by. The Iraqis were set into confusion and it afforded the group time to make it to the extraction point, but the helicopter wasn't there. It was too open and indefensible to stay and wait so O'Neill ordered them on to the secondary evac. When they got within sight of the building he sent Lambert and O'Connor to run on ahead and set up the Satellite link to contact their ride about the change of plans.

'Damn', O'Neill thought, that rat-face Dr. Locke was still fighting and drawing attention to them. He stopped to dig out another dose of the sedative, holding back the urge to just shoot the bastard and be done with him.

"Corbin, get everyone else and head on up." The extraction point was on the roof of an abandoned building where the helo could possibly get to them more easily.

Wallace was being cooperative realizing he'd certainly be killed even if the Naquadah was reclaimed by the Iraqis and now kept pace with them. Corbin followed Wallace and Tolbert up the steps.

That left O'Neill, Carter and Tuck with an unconscious man. O'Neill made to lift the insensible man and realized he'd not be able to carry him all the way to the top. He struggled under the weight and Tuck put out his hand to assist. Carter was a few steps up and looked back at them.

"No, first, get Carter out, you can come back for me."

The slim Major bounded back down the steps, having heard him. "Colonel, let me help, then we can all go."

O'Neill lashed out at her, he could hear the helicopter approaching the building. "Carter, I'm giving you a direct order to get up to that evac! Go!"

"No, Sir. We don't leave anyone behind, right?"

"Shit, Carter, I'll be right there." He made a gesture to her pack, "We can't afford to let any more technology fall into their hands. Make sure everyone is secure aboard the helicopter then hold it for me. Now go!"

Her shoulders squared as she intended to argue again but Tuck's strong hands were on her upper arm, pulling her up the steps. He'd been taken with the Major at their first encounter but over the past few days had seen the connection between these two was set in concrete. His eyes met the Colonel's, "I'll be back in one minute, Sir."

With that he pulled the Major more forcefully and made her climb the narrow steps. Near the top they saw debris blowing about as the helicopters blades created a small tornado on the roof. The sound was deafening but above the din another sound was clear. It was the last thing she heard for a long time, the sound of concussion grenades going off at the base of the stairway.
Tuck leaned over her and pulled the blanket up to her neck to keep out the cool night air of the desert. They were still in the chopper, just three minutes from Al Salem airfield. The grenade had likely not caused any permanent damage but the Major was still unconscious. Tuck was glad of it, he needed the time to decide how to tell her what had happened.

When the grenades went off a column of air was forced to surge up the stairwell pushing the two occupants upward at a frightening pace. They were thrown onto the roof landing several meters away from the stairs. Major Corbin was standing at the side of the helicopter urging everyone to get in quickly and dashed to Carter's side as soon as he saw her hit yelling for Tolbert over his shoulder. Tuck rolled as he landed and was a little disoriented when the Lieutenant dragged him to his feet.

"Can't. Go yet. Colonel. O'Neill." Tuck forced the words out while trying to catch his breath.

Corbin waved to the aircraft, "O'Connor! Come get her! Tolbert, get Tuck on the helo!" He turned from the Major and ran to the top of the stairway. Dust was still pouring out of it in a thick musty cloud and he fell to his stomach trying to peer through it.

He clicked the radio and yelled into it, "O'Neill! Colonel! Do you read?" When there was no answer he abandoned it and cupped his hands around his mouth to amplify his voice as he called down the steps. He knew he was giving away his position but he didn't care, "Colonel! You've got to come now! Can you hear me?"

The only sound from below was the tramping of many booted feet, moving around on the lower level of the building. He dropped his head into his dirt and gravel covered hands for a moment, then crawled up to his feet and started to descend the steps. Maybe, just maybe there was a chance the Colonel had gotten part way up. He only stopped when a flashlight was shone up toward him accompanied by an angry Iraqi voice. He slumped to the wall away from the light and as it moved on he crept back up to the roof and the now frantically waving pilot.

He ran the distance between the opening and the helicopter in record time. The pilot noticed he was alone and leaned back in his seat. When Corbin got on board the pilot threw him a headset and motioned for him to put it on. The Major complied despite the urgency of the situation. He knew what the pilot would be asking him.

"Where's the Colonel?"

"He didn't make it."

"Are you sure? Did you see him go down?"

"No, I didn't, but there's no way- "

The look on the pilots face said it all. Sometimes we do leave people behind. He spat a curse and turned to the controls. The helicopter lifted off, rapidly putting some distance behind them. Once on the way two Air Force jets provided a diversion, flying close enough to spook the inhabitants and scooting out before anti aircraft batteries could be manned.

Corbin had removed the headset and tossed it aside. He definitely didn't want to talk to anyone right now. He'd just left his CO in enemy hands.

Despite the fact that he would probably have gotten killed and the likelihood that Colonel O'Neill was already dead, his guilt could have filled an aircraft hangar. He kicked a support beam in the craft and ground his fists into his eyes. Damn. Got to find a way to go back. He looked at the pilot's back and knew he'd have at least one volunteer for a rescue mission.

Tuck was seated beside Carter, one hand protectively on her shoulder. He was looking down at her but only seeing O'Neill's face when he told them to go. Tuck had promised to go back. A promise he broke.

The three Lieutenants were silent too, trying not to make eye contact with either Tuck or Corbin. A very, very big rule from their unspoken code of conduct had been broken and no one wanted to face the consequences.

Just before they landed Carter started to rouse. The first thing out of her mouth was O'Neill's name.

"Just rest now Major, we're almost home." Without headsets, he had to yell to make himself heard.

Carter blinked away the disorientation and looked directly into Tuck's eyes. "Colonel O'Neill?"

Tuck looked away and right at Corbin, then back. "Didn't make it."

"No! He'll live. Are you doing CPR?" Tuck had to push her shoulders back down to keep her from getting up.

"Can't do that." He sighed heavily. "He's not here."

Her eyes opened wide and with a sudden burst of adrenalin she shoved Tuck aside and grabbed the side of the bench to get up. Corbin was on his feet and reaching out for her when she froze, half standing, and glared at him. "You left him." Her voiced was angry and choked with disbelief. She forced herself to an upright position and held on to an overhead support. "We're going back now if I have to fly this damn bucket myself."

Corbin shook his head and pointed to the landing strip lights ahead of them, "No can do, Major, we're already home."

She held on, swaying as the helicopter lurched and swung around to land. As soon as the skids were solidly on the ground she let go of her handgrip and turned away from the men. Her eyes looked out across the vast empty desert and her vision blurred with moisture despite the dry air.

That bastard, Locke, weighed a ton unconscious. O'Neill struggled at first but realized there was no way he'd get the man up a flight of stairs without help. Maybe down stairs, but definitely not up. He knew they'd been seen and it was only a matter of minutes until a local patrol would search this building and find them.

The telltale blast and flash of concussion grenades going off in the front room was clear indication time had run out. He turned to make a dash to the stairway but stopped short as two concussion grenades were tossed in the room. His only recourse was to go to ground and cover. He knew the soldiers would be on him in a moment but he'd rather be conscious than unconscious when they found him. The blast faded and he jumped to his feet, heading for the exit. Before he made it to the foot of the stairway he was cut off by a pair of very angry men. He stopped short and held his hands out to his sides to show them he was hiding no weapon. The sound of the helicopter leaving was unheard after the arrival of their friends and the impact of a gun stock to the back of his head.

Some time later O'Neill awoke. He was in a cell, certainly, but there was not even a speck of dust on the floor. A bit clean considering he knew where he was, or at least in what country he was. He stood and realized he'd been relieved of his vest, jacket and all equipment, right down to his shoes and socks, leaving him barefoot. The room was windowless, possibly a storage closet he thought. Maybe they were holding him until others could be dispatched to pick him up, and this was the closest place.

Unfortunately he also noted the door was quite well sealed and though there was a small vent near the floor and another one near the ceiling, he could feel no air flow through them. Must be some cross ventilation though, he thought. There was a drain in the middle of the floor and the light was from a single bare bulb overhead. The time wore on and his stomach started to growl. Not quite their MO to let him die without trying to extract at least some information.

After several hours he'd dozed off and was awakened by the door being unlatched. Two soldiers entered and roughly escorted him out of the cell. He was stunned to find himself in a lab instead of a prison. Not nearly as large as the other one, but similar, and no windows either, probably underground he thought. Thanks to his training he was already making mental notes of all the exits, and anything that might be of use to him in the future. He looked around at the equipment and back at the guards. "So is this when the torture starts?"

The older of the men swung his weapon around catching O'Neill in the thigh and spat a command at him to be quiet. Presently a well to do looking Arab man entered the room.

He gave orders to the men to back off but not leave the room. O'Neill pretended to look confused even though he understood every word.

The man now turned to him, "Sit, American!" and motioned to a plain metal chair. O'Neill complied, no point in making any moves just yet.

"You will tell me what it is you are doing in my country."

O'Neill just looked at him passively.

"What have you done with the scientist Wallace?"

O'Neill continued to stare.

"It is no matter. He was most likely on your helicopter. The one we shot down early this morning. There were no survivors, so you see why it is I am asking the questions of you." The man paced slowly with his head up in an air of aristocracy. He brushed a piece of lint from his sleeve.

O'Neill glared at him this time. No way was that the truth, he knew his team had made it, they had to.

"What is your name, American?"

"O'Neill."

"Rank?"

"Jaffa."

His captor looked at him with narrowed eyes, "You want to play games with me? Very well, Jaffa O'Neill, I teach you some good games." He barked some orders at the guards who dragged O'Neill to his feet and down a hallway through some doors and into another room.

'Oh, this looks more like it' he thought noting it was much less sterile than the lab environment. Also less inviting, with chains on the walls, a couple of rings imbedded in the ceiling and a long steel table against one wall. A long chain ran from a clip in the wall through one of the ceiling rings and swayed as they entered.

He was shoved into the center of the room and winced as one of the men clamped handcuffs on his wrists and tightened them down. The hanging chain was unceremoniously hooked to the short chain between the cuffs and his arms were suddenly jerked upward over his head. He was held in a position where his feet were on the floor but supporting little of his weight unless his stood up on his toes.

The proprietor of the lab walked around O'Neill slowly assessing him and came to a stop in front of him. "Now, you will tell me what I want to know."

"Go to hell." His arms were already aching at the strain of the unnatural position of his shoulders.

"Oh, I don't think so, Allah willing. I am Bashir, and this is my lab, so was the other one. You have stolen from me and killed several of my people. It is only right that I require an explanation. Now tell me your rank."

"Supreme Commander."

Bashir motioned and the guards pulled on the chain lifting O'Neill completely off the ground. He squawked as his shoulder joints pulled and his wrists bore his full weight in the cuffs.

"How can I trust what you say if you will not answer even simple questions?" He motioned to a guard again who picked up the end of the long chain and swung it so that it impacted O'Neill's ribcage wrapping around him like a whip made of metal. His breath blew out as he tried to cringe away from the pain but had nowhere to go, dangling there from the ceiling. The second guard had moved to his left and now stepped in and jabbed him firmly mid stomach with the butt of his rifle. The momentum caused him to swing back and as he came forward the guard did it again. If he'd had anything in his stomach it would have come up right then.

O'Neill's breath was coming in short gasps, "Colonel, I'm a Colonel. You son-of-a-bitch." He didn't really want to give up any information, but well, rank was expected even by the Geneva Convention, wasn't it?

Bashir motioned for them to let him down and they released the chain at once dropping him all the way to the ground in a heap. He groaned as his knees hit hard and then his hands, weighed down by the heavy chain.

"You see, I am a merciful man. We will talk again later, the outcome will be up to you." With that Bashir turned and left the room followed by the guards.

O'Neill lay on his side on the floor for a long time it seemed, knees drawn up, holding his still manacled hands over his stomach. One of the guards returned and set a simple saucer in front of him and poured water into it, letting some slosh over onto the floor. He tossed a chunk of hard bread into it, splattering even more water onto the floor. He then spat into it and walked out.

O'Neill inched his way the few feet to the saucer and removed the bread, the bottom of it now sopping with liquid. He turned it toward his mouth and sucked at the water, swallowing bits of soggy bread with it. There was little left in the bottom of the saucer and it was too flat to pick up without spilling so he scooted up closer until his head was directly over it and sucked and licked at it like a dog, trying to get every last drop before it evaporated and was gone.

His thirst temporarily sated, he pushed himself to a seated position and looked over the room. Why were these places always painted gray? His situation was not good but this Bashir guy was an amateur in the torture department. By Goa'uld standards, that is. Once you've been tortured by them everyone else is a distant second. O'Neill smirked, they'd stopped and he wasn't even unconscious yet, and they'd fed him the first day. Yeah, rank amateurs. But even an amateur could do a lot of damage.

He turned his wrists under the metal cuffs and tried to rub away some of the soreness. The metal hadn't cut his flesh yet but if he was hung up there many more times it surely would. He rubbed his feet a bit too as they were cold from the concrete floor. He stiffly rose up and saw how far he could go still tethered on the long chain, not very far. After working on the chain for a few minutes he was able to disconnect it from the cuffs so he could walk freely about the room. He could see through the small window in the door that one of the guards was standing just outside the opening.

It felt good to move and stretch a little and he walked around the perimeter of the room. If he could just find a scrap of metal or something he could pick these locks with he'd be happy. Seeing that it was unlikely he'd escape, at least this early in the game, his mind wandered in other directions.

Why was he here instead of in one of the more common, and dirty prisons? The one he was in during the Gulf War was hideously filthy. It stank, and not just of sweat and excrement, but rotting flesh. The mental torture from having to endure the conditions was almost as bad as what had been done to the prisoners. He'd watched several good men die, more of neglect than forced injury or execution.

This 'different' kind of internment made him wonder if his capture had even been reported up the chain of command to Baghdad. Maybe old Bashir didn't want Saddam to know he'd lost some major technology and at least one of the men who knew how to make it work. Of course maybe Saddam didn't even know about the technology, or even the lab. No, that would be too unlikely.

The questions just raised more questions in his head. After several hours the lock on the door was turned and Bashir was back, looking way too relaxed.

He patted his stomach and belched. "Ah, it is always good to feast with my friends and family. My brother roasted a lamb on a spit for us, it was most delicious."

O'Neill looked in his direction without seeing the man at all. Keeping his emotions under a tight rein. Perhaps he should have eaten that hard crust of bread.

Bashir continued, "So now, O'Neill, tell me, how did you locate this lab?"

"I followed the stench and knew I'd find the rats."

"Rats you say, maybe when we are done here I will feed you to some rats. Maybe I will put you on my brother's spit and let you roast slowly for a day. I would enjoy hearing you beg for mercy. I could videotape it and send the tape to your General Hammond so he would know what a coward you really are."

O'Neill didn't flinch, didn't even blink, but inside his mind kicked into high gear. What had those bastard scientists told Bashir! If he knew about Hammond, he probably knew about the Stargate and a lot more.

Bashir was a bit put out that he didn't get the response he wanted from O'Neill. "You see I know much of your governments secrets. So tell me how much of this Naquadah do you have?"

"What's that?"

Bashir motioned to his men who advanced on O'Neill and dragged him over to the steel table, which was now moved out from the wall. He was forced to lie on it face up. Heavy straps were tightened across his knees and hips and the cuffs were removed but only so heavy straps could be fitted around his wrists and tied together under the table, so his hands were pulled over the edge. Somewhere along the way they ripped his T-shirt off leaving his upper body bare.

One of the guards draped a length of chain across his neck and pulled it tight down to the table. Bashir walked around it, as if he was checking the restraints to his own satisfaction, but O'Neill guessed it was really just to enjoy the feeling of power over another human being.

When he reached the head of the table he gave the neck chain a harsh jerk making O'Neill gag and sputter. His chest heaved up off the table as he tried to pull in a breath.

A technician entered the room with some long clear tubing and what looked like one of those old-fashioned glass IV bottles they used before every