Season: 7

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: None

Genre: Drama

Spoilers: Fallen, Bane, Meridian, Legacy, Desperate Measures, Full Circle, Divide and Conquer

Warnings: Graphic violence, torture, major Danny whumping, language

With the knowledge of the Ancients tucked away in his mind the NID thinks Daniel remembers more about his time ascended than he's willing to admit.

 __________________________________________________________________________________________________

            Daniel strode down the hall to the elevators, curiosity tugging at him like an impatient child.  There was nothing out of the ordinary about being called to General Hammond’s office, except when that summons came at 20:00 hours. Daniel had been stretched out on the bed in his quarters pouring over the latest issue of Science Digest magazine, disagreeing with his fellow archaeologists’ conclusions, as usual, when the request came. 

He had very rarely agreed with the other members of his field even before Katherine Langford had appeared at his ill-fated lecture and turned his disheveled life upside down.  However, knowing what he now did about the goa’uld, asguard and such gave him an added perspective in the world of Archaeology, one that had drained a good deal of the mystery from his chosen profession.  It also made his attempts to keep up with current theories nearly pointless.  Doing so was a waste of time when to the experts the truth and myth of human history were interchangeable, trading places in the ever-flowing current of popular opinion.  Only the few who lived in the belly of Cheyenne Mountain and were intimately acquainted with the glowing eyes and venomous wrath of the truth knew the difference.  Still his long standing practice of keeping up with the current, if misguided, theories was one he couldn’t bring himself to abandon despite the aggravation it caused watching old colleagues publish books on and receive awards for what he knew to be completely inaccurate ideas.  Daniel knew his work at the SGC was far more important than notoriety, still he couldn’t help being a tad jealous at the recognition others were getting for nothing more than fairy tales, finely crafted, though they were. 

Of course, recognition in his field had never come because of accuracy.  The scant pieces of evidence scattered sparingly across the planet made absolute proof nearly impossible.  Instead it came from possessing the most believable or at least the most imagination inspiring story and being able to sell it to the rest of the group, or even better, the public.  Well, if it was a good bedtime story they wanted he had a whopper, though after hearing it they would probably never sleep again.

Emerging from the elevator Daniel headed toward the abandoned control room and up the stairs to General Hammond’s office, somewhat surprised to see Jack pacing on the far side of the General’s window. 

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” Daniel said stepping through the open door.

One look at the expression on Jack’s face had his sense of curiosity creeping toward foreboding.  He was wearing a glare that could have melted concrete.  Daniel had seen that look before, usually just prior to Jack slamming someone up against the nearest wall and severely challenging their ability to breathe.  

“Have a seat, Son.” Hammond said, closing the door behind Daniel who couldn’t help wondering if he was about to become the “someone”. “I received a call from the NID this afternoon.”

Daniel heaved a silent sigh of relief as the target of Jack’s mood suddenly presented itself.  One of the gaggle of egomaniacs in that section of the government had obviously decided to throw their weight around again, something that never sat well with the Colonel.  Actually, it never sat well with any of them. 

Daniel eased into a chair bracing himself for what was certain to be news of a completely irrational and totally unwarranted demand.  Probably something like a new policy that added an NID agent to every SG field unit or at the very least made them a mandatory part of every post mission debriefing; an attempt to get information first hand rather than by way of a report after the fact.  He’d been anticipating something along those lines for quite a while. 

“They have requested a formal debriefing about the time you spent…ascended.” Hammond informed him.

Daniel glanced at Jack in mild confusion then back to Hammond.

“Debriefing?” he asked.  “Why don’t they just read my report?  It’s all in there.  What I can remember anyway.”

“Why don’t we call it what it really is, General?” Jack interrupted. “An interrogation.”

“Colonel.” Hammond warned.

“Wait.  What are we talking about here?” Daniel asked while the two men momentarily stared each other down.

“They think you’re lying.” Jack informed him.

“They are concerned that your report might be incomplete.” Hammond translated. “At the time you wrote it you had no memory of being ascended.”

“Which I still don’t.”

“They think going over the events before and after your ascension again in detail might help jog your memory.” Hammond sighed.

“It’s just a smoke screen.” Jack groused. “It’s an excuse to find out what you know.”

“Well I doubt it will work, Jack.” Daniel said calmly. “I’ve been going over it since the day you found me on Vis Uban and I don’t remember anything more than I did then.  It’s just…blank.”

“They suggested hypnosis.” General Hammond added.

The thought made Daniel shudder.  Hypnosis was interesting in theory, but the practice required a trained psychologist and he knew exactly which one the SGC would want to use.  Spending any amount of time with McKenzie poking around in his head was not something he was even remotely interested in.

“Like they’d really be willing to settle for that.  I’m telling you, General they’ve got something up their sleeve.” Jack continued to protest.

“So far they’re not demanding, Son.” Hammond said, directing his remarks to Daniel and doing his best to ignore Jack’s ranting. “They’re requesting your cooperation.”

“And if I say 'no'?” Daniel asked, well aware of how the NID worked.  "No" was not a word they understood.

“Then I suppose we can expect an argument, but without a Presidential Order I don’t intend to let them force you into it.” He said, eyes shining with the determination to protect one of his own. “Take some time.  Think it over, but I’ll need an answer by tomorrow afternoon.”

Daniel nodded.

“You’re dismissed.  Both of you.” Hammond said.

Daniel got up from the chair and retraced his steps back to the VIP quarters he still called home with Jack right behind him.

“Mark my words, Daniel.” He groused as they descended the stairs to the control room. “These guys have more in mind than asking a few simple questions.”

“Like…?”

“I don’t know, but when was the last time the NID played it straight about anything?  The only way they operate is under the table.”

“They can ask all the questions they want.” Daniel shrugged.  “I can’t tell them what I don’t know.”

“Obviously your memory is still a little lacking.” Jack huffed. “They’re after something specific.  This polite little invitation is just a trap to get to you.  Once you agree, they’ll take what they want and make no apologies about the methods.  You’re going to have to trust me on this one, Daniel…tell Hammond ‘no’.”

“What do you think they’re after?” Daniel asked, Jack’s concern apparent even through the healthy dose of paranoia it came packaged in.

“I don’t know.” Jack admitted. “That’s the part that bothers me.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>                       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Daniel knocked on Hammond’s office door early the next morning after having spent a very long night pouring over mission logs.  He had read nearly every report that mentioned the NID and by the end of the first handful had a very uneasy feeling creeping around in his stomach.  A dozen or so later and the uneasy feeling had developed into a definite ache of dread. 

He hadn’t remembered much in the way of specifics about the group since retaking human form.  The mention of the Department only left a sense of uneasiness and general mistrust.  However, the mission logs had given a clear picture, not to mention a long list of offenses right up to the kidnapping of a goa’ulded host whom they had held hostage for their own purposes. 

Daniel wasn’t a big believer in blaming an entire group for the actions of one person, but history had proven that the NID tended to appoint the same kind of person over and over as Department Head and employed the same kind of tactics at every opportunity.  The faces had changed as time went on, but the actions and general attitude had not.  By the time Daniel had dozed off in front of the computer in the wee hours of the morning he had decided Jack’s advice was worth taking.  Unfortunately, he had also come to the conclusion that refusing to cooperate would most likely do little good.  His only real hope was to attempt to negotiate the terms of the debriefing.  He would agree to allow them to question him in the hopes that if they heard him say “I don’t remember” enough times with their own ears they would be more inclined to believe him.  However, he was going to demand it be done at the SGC without hypnosis and with Hammond as a witness.  If they managed to stumble across anything interesting then he supposed it would just have to become common knowledge, but he wanted the opportunity to discover whatever might be tucked away in his gray matter on his own, piece by miniscule piece if that's the way it happened.  The lack of hypnosis would ensure the NID didn't find any information he might unknowingly be harboring first and go running off with it.  If his head really was packed with the knowledge of the Ancients it was information worth guarding.  In the wrong hands it could create a degree of havoc he would rather not think about. 

Of course, not all of his reasons for refusing hypnosis were selfless.  In his reading he had stumbled across the recounting of his brief, though traumatic encounter with McKenzie several years earlier, a memory he wouldn't have minded being without.  As irrational as it was, where the psychologist was concerned paranoia reigned supreme in Daniel's head.  The fear that once under his influence he would somehow find himself trapped in a padded room, drugged to the gills and labeled a mental defect unable to convince anyone otherwise sent his pulse racing.  It had happened before.  It could happen again.  However, he was hiding that particular black and terrifying secret behind the slightly less worrisome notion that with hypnosis the NID would be free to take complete advantage of the situation.  While on paper they professed to only be interested in his time as an occupant of a higher plane of existence there would be nothing to stop them from broadening the scope of questioning to include his entire life thus far.  Something they had been known to do even without the benefit of an altered state of consciousness.   

As an extra precaution, Hammond’s presence as a witness would ensure nothing got out of hand.  Daniel had considered the idea of having Jack in the room as well, but had thought better of it.  Hammond could do a calm kind of agitated when in the company of annoying people.  Jack couldn’t.

“Come in.” Hammond said, looking as if he’d gotten nearly as little sleep as Daniel.

“I’ve decided to go ahead with the debriefing.” Daniel announced, closing the door.

“Are you sure?”

“No, but I don’t think I really have a choice.” He admitted. “I do have a few conditions, though.”

“Such as?”

“I want it done here on the base…without hypnosis.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem.”

“And I’d like you to observe.”

“Do you mind if I ask why?”

“To be honest, I don’t trust them, Sir.  I’d feel more comfortable with you in the room.”

“Fair enough.  I’ll contact Colonel Tyler and let him know your conditions.”

“Thank you.” Daniel said somewhat relieved as he wandered back to his office, hoping he hadn’t just walked into something he’d regret. 

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>                       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

The next summons to the General’s office came several hours later and brought Daniel face to face with a tall, somewhat amused looking man.  He was occupying one of the chairs in front of Hammond’s desk, Jack glowering at him from the other. 

Several volleys had taken place between Hammond and the National Intelligence Department that day as they attempted to negotiate the terms of the debriefing with little success.  Despite protests the NID had insisted on keeping hypnosis on the board, McKenzie’s name topping the list of acceptable psychologists.  Daniel wasn’t sure if the name had been designed to ease his mind or rattle his cage.  Surely they knew enough about him to know the two men had a history and not necessarily a pleasant one.  Either someone at the NID hadn’t done their homework or they had done it very thoroughly.  One thing was certain, the game had begun whether Daniel wanted to play or not.

“Dr. Jackson, I presume.” The man said, rising from his chair and offering his hand.

“I’m sorry, you are?” Daniel replied.

“Colonel Tyler, NID.” He said as Daniel tentatively shook his hand. “Please, have a seat.” He added, motioning Daniel toward the chair he had just vacated.

“No, thank you.  I’m fine.”

“We seem to have somehow gotten off on the wrong foot, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler continued from where he stood. “I thought perhaps if I came to speak to you in person things would go more smoothly.”

The look of calm certainty on his face made Daniel’s stomach clench.

“I appreciate the trouble you’ve gone to, Colonel.” Daniel began, doing his level best to play the part of the unflappable diplomat. “However, my requests are non negotiable.  I would prefer to do the debriefing here at the SGC and without hypnosis.  If that’s not acceptable then I’m afraid you’ve come a long way for nothing.”

“There’s no need for suspicion, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler purred. “We simply want to help you regain your memory.  In return we had hoped you would be willing to share whatever knowledge you were able to acquire during your absence.”

“Of course you did.” Jack said from where he sat, hands clenched into very visible fists.

“You must be at least mildly curious about what went on while you were…what is the word?  Ascended?” Tyler continued.  “An entire year of your life lost.  Wouldn’t you like to know what happened during that time?”

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.” Daniel admitted.

“Careful, Daniel.” Jack warned.

“However, unsatisfied curiosity I can live with, hypnosis I can’t.” he concluded.

“I was under the impression solving mysteries of the past was your passion, Dr. Jackson.  Surely you’re not opposed to using some very harmless scientific means to solve this one.” Tyler challenged.  “Especially when the mystery involves your own life.”

Tyler’s syrupy tone made Daniel’s skin crawl.  Of course he had spent time wondering what had happened while he’d been ascended, pondering what he might really know about the Lost City.  Not to mention why he had been returned to human form.  He had a truckload of questions and no solid answers, but he wasn’t willing to share any information with the NID without knowing exactly what he would be handing over to them.  The consequences of his actions might be further reaching than he realized. Other people’s existence could be at stake and something in him kept insisting he understand those consequences completely before making a commitment that might dictate their fate.  The argument bordered on melodrama, but he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that terrible things could happen if he rushed ahead blindly.

“My memory from before the ascension has returned on its own.” Daniel said calmly. “Eventually other things might as well.  I’m willing to wait.  If anything turns up I’ll be happy to send you a memo.”

Daniel saw Jack smirk out of the corner of his eye.

“I see.” Tyler said, his benign manner slipping a little. “Well unfortunately we are not so patient.  There is far too much at stake to let things progress as they will.  I don’t have to tell you how important it is that we find the Lost City before the goa’uld.  You are the only man who can lead us there, Dr. Jackson and for that reason the President has insisted on your full cooperation in this investigation.”

“What?!” Jack bellowed jumping out of his chair.

“'Investigation'?  A moment ago this was a debriefing, Colonel.” Hammond snapped.

“Actually, it ceased to be a debriefing hours ago, General.” Tyler said, removing a folded piece of paper from inside his uniform jacket and handing it to an angrily flushed Hammond. “By order of the President of the United States it is now a formal investigation into a matter of National and global security.”

“This is bullshit.” Jack snarled. “He’s a civilian, he doesn’t have to take orders from you or anyone else.”

“I’m afraid he does, Colonel.” Hammond interrupted.

“General?” Jack glared.

“It’s a Presidential Order.  You know as well as I do what this means.  However,” he added, turning to Tyler, eyes blazing. “I do not appreciate you marching into my facility and taking one of my people by force, Colonel.  Heaven help us, but we’re on the same side here.  We want that information as much as you do and this is not the way to get it.”

“Every day we wait is time the goa’uld are using to find the City.” Tyler stated angrily. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have time for diplomacy.”

“Don’t lecture me on the urgency of the situation, Colonel.” Hammond countered, spitting the title at him. “I’ve been defending this planet against the goa’uld longer than you’ve known they existed.”

“Be that as it may, General,” Tyler seethed “the Order stands and I’m going to carry out this investigation using whatever means I deem necessary.”

“That’s not what this piece of paper means, Colonel and you know it.” Hammond growled. “This man has rights and you have absolutely no excuse to treat him like a criminal.”

Tyler stared back at him for a moment before the self-satisfied smirk that seemed to come with his post oozed across his features.  “With all due respect, General, what that piece of paper means is that this discussion is over.” He turned his back on Hammond and directed his triumphant sneer toward Daniel. “Dr. Jackson you are hereby ordered to accompany me to the United States Air Force Academy Hospital and once there submit yourself to hypnosis by Dr. Adam McKenzie.”

“You have got to be kidding." Jack snarled. "General you can’t let him do this.”

“He has no choice, Colonel.  Neither do you.  Now I would prefer to keep this civil, but if I have to I will forcefully remove him from the base.” Tyler warned.

"I expect to be kept fully informed of every step of this investigation." Hammond demanded. "And you can be sure the President will be hearing from me."

“I have no doubt." Tyler replied. "Dr. Jackson?” he said, opening the door and motioning Daniel out into the conference room.

Daniel looked at General Hammond, then Jack and then strode out of the room, palms sweating and stomach churning as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.  Ten minutes ago the debriefing had been an adamant request.  Now suddenly he was a prisoner of the NID on his way to a formal interrogation and apparently there was nothing anyone could do about it.  He was on his own. 

Despite Hammond's closed door Daniel could hear the rise and fall of Jack’s muffled ranting most of the way to the control room.  It was a small comfort to know he was still attempting to argue the case even if it was a waste of time. 

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Colonel Tyler and his two-Airman escort ushered Daniel up to the surface and into the back of an Air Force blue sedan, one of the soldiers settling in beside him.  He stared out the window as they descended the mountain, his thoughts much more on the situation than the scenery.  The question of just how far the NID was going to take its latest outrageous demand had just been answered.  As far as they legally could and then some.  Obviously Jack had been right, there was more going on than what he had been told.  Producing a Presidential Order just to march him over to McKenzie for a few hours of hypnosis seemed like overkill, never mind the fact that it was impossible to hypnotize an unwilling person…unless they were intending to use drugs to force him into being a willing person.  He was pretty sure he already knew the answer to that. 

Daniel didn’t know Tyler very well, but what little he’d seen had him suspecting he had just been sucked into the middle of one of the nearly rogue Department’s grand plans.  Tyler had to have more in mind than hypnosis, in fact that was most likely only the tip of the iceberg.  The full scope of the plan was still a mystery, but according to the scene in General Hammond's office it had something to do with the Lost City.  A feeling of frustration and foreboding settled over Daniel.  He was being held prisoner for information he didn't have.  At least he didn't think he did.  Unfortunately, whether he liked it or not Tyler and McKenzie were going to attempt to dig it out of him any way. 

Daniel grimaced at the passing landscape as a wave of aggravation washed over him.  Not only was he going to be an unwilling participant in one more egomaniac’s quest for power, but before the day was over McKenzie would be rooting around in his head. The notion that once he had forced his way into Daniel's mind there was no way to control which parts of his life the men explored did nothing to settle his nerves.  Every memory, every dream, every dirty little secret he had ever had was about to become public knowledge.  While hypnosis was far less effective than the goa'uld memory device it was still a violation he didn’t want any part of and he could only hope his current level of hostility would be just as present in his subconscious mind as it was in the rest of him. 

Jaw clenched and palms sweating with both fear and anger Daniel pulled himself out of his thoughts long enough to realize they weren’t headed in the direction of the hospital.  In fact, he wasn’t sure exactly where they were headed.

“Excuse me.” He said to no one in particular. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to tell you this, but I think we’re going the wrong way.”

“Not really.” Tyler replied.

“This isn’t the way to the hospital.”

“How right you are, Dr. Jackson.” he smirked from the front seat. “It is nice to see you are paying attention.  Now just sit back and enjoy the ride.”

A sick feeling settled in the pit of Daniel’s stomach. “Where are we going?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“I think I have a right to know where you’re taking me.”

“Let’s just say we disagree on that point.” Tyler said.

“Stop the car.” Daniel demanded reaching for the handle on his door.

“Keep going.” The Colonel snapped at the driver who had immediately slowed when the rear passenger door opened. “Hold him!” He demanded to the airman in the back seat.

The soldier immediately reached over and grabbed Daniel by the arm, yanking him away from the door.  Daniel struggled against the grip, fully intending to hurl himself from the moving car if necessary, legs kicking at the door that had once again slammed shut as the car accelerated.  Tyler whipped off his seatbelt and leaned over the seat grabbing Daniel by the throat and slamming him back against the upholstery, squeezing hard enough to cut off a majority of his air and surprising him with the strength of his grip.

“I said hold him.” Tyler snarled, his calm, overconfident demeanor having instantly evaporated. 

The Colonel retrieved a small black case from the inside of his jacket, Daniel clawing at his hand, face turning red and eyes bulging as he tried to suck air into his lungs.  With some difficulty the Colonel produced a syringe from the case with his free hand and jammed the needle into one of the veins in Daniel’s neck, pushing the plunger.  Daniel’s mouth gaped open as he attempted to howl in protest and pain, but was unable to make a sound.  Almost instantly he felt the drug’s effect draining his strength, his desperate attempts to free himself from Tyler and the Airman’s hold reduced to a meager twitching of his muscles.  Tyler, convinced Daniel was no longer a threat, released the hold on his neck allowing him to eagerly gasp air into his lungs.

"I know the kind of people you're used to dealing with, Dr. Jackson," Tyler said, panting slightly as he settled back in his seat and readjusted his uniform "but let me assure you, my predecessors and I are quite different.  I am not easily deterred and the only thing you will accomplish with your pathetic attempts to deny me is to force me to inflict a great deal of pain in order to drive that point home. I would suggest you keep that in mind."

Daniel attempted to glare back at him as his strength continued to fade. 

"Go to hell." He mumbled.

Tyler's reply was to turn his back on him. 

Daniel struggled to keep his eyes open hoping to figure out where they were headed before he lost consciousness, an event he was certain was rapidly approaching.  Letting his head loll to the side he stared out the window as the scenery flowed by, but was unable to focus his thoughts enough to make sense of anything.  His mind was a tangled mess of colors, sounds and words.  However, as his eyes slid closed a single thought struggled to the surface: he was in very big trouble.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>     <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Hammond had picked up the phone the moment Tyler and his entourage left with Dr. Jackson, ordering the main sentry station to inform him when they returned.  It wasn’t much, in fact it was close to nothing at all, but it was all he could do.  Tyler had his hands securely tied.  Jack had finally stormed out of his office after several long minutes of calling Tyler everything under the sun, loudly protesting the entire situation.  Hammond couldn’t blame him.  It stunk to high heaven with the foul odor of betrayal.  Hammond didn't know exactly what Tyler was up to, but was certain of one thing: they would find out eventually and when they did they wouldn't like it.  Unfortunately, for the time being there was little they could do, but wish Dr. Jackson luck and wait, though he had no intention of playing such a passive role for long.  If he was gone much longer than twelve hours Hammond intended to kick up a very loud fuss.  That left him most of a day to figured out exactly what form the boisterous protest would take.

Several of those hours had already passed, Hammond determinedly keeping busy, attempting to reassure himself with the thought that the NID hadn't labeled Dr. Jackson a criminal or even a threat to national security.  They were just gathering information, or so they said.  It was very little comfort.  In fact the only solace he could really glean from the situation was the knowledge that when things ran amok Dr. Jackson would have every right to file a formal complaint after the fact, one Hammond would gladly add his signature to.  Of course, knowing the boys at the NID the way he did that would most likely mean very little to Dr. Jackson. The damage would have already been done. 

Hammond sighed to himself as he closed a file on his desk, tossed it in his “out” box and opened another.  With a Presidential Order in hand it wasn’t exactly realistic to think Tyler would behave himself.  It was as close to a get out of jail free card as you could get.  However, things would certainly be a lot simpler if he did.  As out of character as it would be for the NID it was at least a possibility.  After all, there was no real proof Tyler was like so many of his predecessors, no concrete evidence he would step several miles out of line in blind determination to get what he wanted.  Just because he had already been caught withholding information and plotting behind Hammond’s back didn’t mean he was like the other men who had held that post.  It wasn’t irrefutable proof he was manipulative, cunning, scheming, ruthless and at the risk of sounding like a Right Wing fanatic…evil.  The hell it wasn't. 

Hammond signed his name to yet another piece of paper on his desk and sighed heavily. Unfortunately all he had was a deep suspicion and a whole lot of nagging worry and it was going to take something much more substantial than either one of those to warrant a call to the Oval Office. 

Somehow Tyler had managed to get the President's approval for this supposedly harmless interrogation and any protesting Hammond did would be, in effect, questioning the judgement of the Commander and Chief.  One didn't do such a thing without something a lot more significant than gut instinct.  At least not if one wanted to keep one’s pension.  One did, however, cover their bases. 

Hammond hadn’t made it all the way to General without figuring out that instinct was a valuable thing and sometimes you had to act on it even when it went against orders.  As long as you did it very, very carefully.  Tip toeing around the fringes of an order was very different from trampling it into the dirt.  It was that notion that had led him down to the infirmary several hours earlier to have a quiet conversation with Janet Frasier.  She had connections at Academy Hospital.  Not high enough to stop Tyler, but certainly high enough to keep an eye on him.  Without pushing or even out right suggesting he had merely informed her that Dr. Jackson had been forcefully removed from the base to undergo hypnosis.  Janet, being a highly intelligent woman, fully capable of reading between the lines, had asked permission to check up on him during the session out of concern for his health.  Knowing his past history with Dr. McKenzie it was entirely possible he could become agitated and might possibly require sedation.  While the psychologist would be perfectly capable of handling the situation, as Dr. Jackson’s physician it would be within her rights to be kept in the loop.  Hammond had left her office feeling much more reassured.

Checking his watch, Hammond pushed back from his desk.  He needed a break, and what’s more he hadn’t heard from Dr. Frasier yet with a report.  While he expected Dr. Jackson to be returned relatively soon it would be good to at least hear a reassuring update.  He had considered calling down to her, but decided instead to handle the situation in person.  His legs could use a stretch.  

Passing through the control room and out into the maze of the SGC, returning salutes as he went, he arrived in the infirmary to find it relatively quiet. 

“General.” Janet said, nearly crashing into him on her way out of the room. “I was just on my way to see you.”
            “Let’s talk in your office.” Hammond suggested seeing the tension in her face and feeling his nagging worry threatening to erupt into full-blown foreboding.

“I contacted Dr. Rafferty and asked him to check on Daniel.  He’s been in surgery most of the day and wasn’t able to get over to Mental Health until just now.”

“What did he find?”

“Dr. McKenzie isn’t in his office today.  In fact, the only one on call this weekend is an Intern.”

“Maybe Tyler took him to meet McKenzie somewhere else.”

“I suppose it’s possible, but I doubt it, Sir.  Dr. McKenzie has been in Denver all week at a convention.  According to his assistant he hasn’t been seeing patients at all.”

Hammond stood frowning back at her, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

“Have you tried contacting Dr. McKenzie?”

“Yes, Sir.  I’ve left him several messages, but so far he hasn’t returned my calls.”

“Then I’d say it’s about time we contacted Colonel Tyler and asked him what the hell is going on.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

Daniel woke slowly to find himself face down on a cushion, an insistent ache pounding in his head.  It took him a long moment to get his bearings and even longer to recognize the steady roar in his ears as that of an airplane.  Pushing himself into a sitting position with muscles that seemed reluctant to work, Daniel winced at the throbbing in his head and wobbled to his feet before staggering away from the couch he’d been deposited on.

“Ah, Dr. Jackson,” Tyler greeted when Daniel pushed open the curtain that had separated his couch from the rest of the roomy Lear jet.  “Impeccable timing.  We’ve just started our final approach.”

“Where are we?” Daniel croaked, a hand on the side of the aircraft to steady himself.

“At present several miles above the Nevada desert.” Tyler replied from where he sat nestled in a chair facing the rear of the jet.

            Daniel squinted out one of the oval windows only to see his own reflection squinting back at him, the sky outside completely dark.

            “Where are you taking me?” he demanded, jerking his head back to glare at Tyler only to have the sudden movement inspire a sharp, stabbing pain in the back of his skull, his stomach turning a slow cartwheel.

            “The pain will wear off eventually.” Tyler said mildly, seeing him wince. “An unfortunate side effect.”

            “Where,” Daniel repeated through clenched teeth, “are you taking me?”

            “A quiet little place called Nellis.” Tyler explained, turning his attention back to the small collection of paperwork on the table in front of him. “I believe you’ve heard of it.”

            “Area 51.” Daniel mumbled.

            “Precisely.”

            “You’re kidnapping me.”

            “That’s quite an ugly accusation, Doctor.” Tyler informed him mildly. “I am merely transporting you to a more secure facility.”

            “You were authorized to take me to Dr. McKenzie for hypnosis, not fly me to Nevada.” Daniel countered, no longer caring if the rise in volume made his headache worse.

            “Actually, Daniel…I can call you Daniel, can’t I?” he asked.

“Dr. Jackson is fine.”

“Well then, Dr. Jackson, I was authorized to conduct a thorough investigation using whatever reasonable means I deemed necessary.” He quoted the document Daniel had never read. “I am doing nothing more than that.”

            “And you consider drugging me to be reasonable?”

            “You were endangering yourself.  If you recall, you attempted to throw yourself from a moving vehicle.  I only did what was necessary to save your life.  I would think you would be grateful." Tyler said, seeing the continued scowl on Daniel's face. "I've gone to considerable trouble to ensure your safety."

            "I'm touched." Daniel replied flatly. "Why don't you tell me what's going on?”

            “I have to say, Dr. Jackson," he continued, leaning back in his seat and ignoring Daniel's question "your performance was absolutely brilliant.  Quite moving.  I could not have planned that better, myself." 

            "What are you talking about?"

            "I'm talking about your attempted suicide." He smirked. "According to my report you became agitated and irrational, the thought of being examined and hypnotized by Dr. McKenzie causing you obvious anxiety.  Perfectly understandable in light of your past experience.  Unfortunately all attempts to calm you failed and you soon became a threat to yourself, attempting to throw yourself from a moving vehicle.  I sedated you and brought you to Nellis for psychiatric evaluation. I’m afraid you left me little choice.”

            Daniel stood staring back at him, nearly dumbfounded by Tyler’s very creative retelling.  “What’s your game, Tyler?” he demanded, falling into a chair as the airplane banked.

            “Game?  I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

            “You can drop the act.  This obviously has nothing to do with McKenzie and I doubt much at all to do with anything more than furthering your career so exactly what are you up to?”

            “The only thing I’m ‘up to’, Dr. Jackson, is attempting to improve the defensive capabilities of this planet." He replied, eyes glittering with annoyance. "You see, I believe there is much more in that head of yours than you are willing to admit.  Perhaps even more than you realize, though I highly doubt it.  I intend to expose it."

            "Oh please. This has nothing to do with defending the planet and you know it." Daniel snorted. "You're just using me to negotiate a better position in the chain of command."

            "What if I am?" Tyler asked mildly, leaning back in his chair. "In the process I'm going to make you an international hero.  That's hardly cause for hostility, is it?  One day the world will know all about Stargate Command.  The secret will come to light and when that happens instead of a faceless entity in a program no one has ever heard of you'll be a household name.  You'll be the man who provided the information that saved the inhabitants of Earth from the awful fate of goa'uld enslavement.”

            “Yeah, well, forgive me if that doesn’t make me feel any better.” He said unimpressed. "If it's all the same to you I think I'll pass."

            “That is unfortunate, but I'm afraid I must insist." Tyler replied, the charismatic demeanor sliding away. "You see, I’m not any more a fool than you are.”

            “Meaning?”

            “You know a lot more than you’re admitting. I certainly don’t blame you for wanting to keep the information to yourself, after all I would do the same thing, but I must say, your façade has been pitifully transparent.  I’ve been aware from the very first report of your ‘miraculous’ reappearance that you were hiding something.”

            “And what, exactly, am I hiding?”

            “The Lost City, knowledge of one of the most powerful group of aliens in the universe, information about the goa’uld’s weaknesses. Possibly even the means to destroy them.” Tyler said, looking him in the eye. “Hammond, O’Neill, Carter, they all want to believe that finding you on that planet a month ago was a happy coincidence, but not all of us are so blind.  You planned that little reunion and have been faking your way back into their good graces ever since.”

            “And why would I do that?”

            “Because you need them or rather their technology and manpower to find the Lost City and claim it.”

            “And you think I have more technology in human form than I did when I was ascended?”

            “Technology can take many forms, Dr. Jackson.  You and I both know primitive doesn’t always mean useless.”

            “So I came back to the SGC, made up some story about being kicked out by the Ancients and have been…what?”

            “Biding your time.” Tyler filled in, before pushing himself out of his seat. “Do you honestly expect me to believe the sudden reappearance, the coincidental reunion with your old team on a supposedly random planet, the seemingly harmless, though still quite obvious change in behavior means nothing?  Like I said, I'm no fool.  You’re hiding something and I intend to find out what it is.”

            “And what if it turns out I’m telling the truth and really can't remember anything?”

            “Let’s not waste time with threats, Doctor.  You have what I want and I am in the unique position to give you what you want.  There is really no need to play games.”

“And what exactly is it you think I want?” Daniel frowned up at him, watching as he paced a small circle in the aisle. 

“Power.  Dominance.  Respect.  Of course, for the time being we will have to share that power, but even at that there is plenty to go around.” Tyler explained. “Once we’ve secured this planet against goa'uld attack there will be nothing to prevent us from using that technology to take command of the galaxy completely.  Think of the possibilities. Very soon we will be a formidable force in the universe.”

“All I’m thinking is that you’ve got to be out of your mind.” Daniel replied, seeing the gleam in Tyler’s eye, the first signs of intoxication at the thought of his own power.

Anger flashed across the Colonel’s face, wiping away a measure of the glee, his jaw set as he leaned down and gripped the arm rests on either side of Daniel’s chair, glaring into his face.

“And I’m thinking the only mind you need to worry about right now is your own.”

He growled. “I will get what I want, Dr. Jackson, make no mistake.  You can cooperate or not, but either way in the end I will know everything you do.”
            “We are making our final descent into Nellis.  Please be seated and fasten your seat belts.” Came the announcement over the speakers interrupting the conversation, but not the glowering match that continued between the two men. 

            Daniel stared at Tyler as he let go of the chair to settle back behind the table.  He had begun to suspect the man was capable of just about anything, but was now starting to recognize he had underestimated him.  If the episode in the car hadn’t already convinced Daniel that he was barely hanging on to sanity that brief little tirade certainly would have.  It seemed the latest commander of the NID was riding a fine line between ambition and madness.

            The jet dropped the last few miles back to Earth and touched down smoothly on the tarmac at Nellis' private airstrip, the reverse thrusters slowing the aircraft and lurching Daniel forward in his seat.  The two Airmen Daniel had assumed had been left behind miraculously reappeared from their hiding places inside the jet as soon as it slowed, one of them repacking Tyler’s briefcase, the other standing guard beside Daniel as the plane bumped along the airstrip.

            “Welcome to Nellis, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler said without a hint of the venom he’d displayed only moments before. “You can attempt to free yourself from my custody again if you would like, but I must warn you, I have more than enough sedative to keep you unconscious for quite some time and the headache does grow incrementally worse with each dose.  So for your own good, I’d skip the dramatics.”

            Daniel bit back a comment and allowed himself to be manhandled off the plane and into the backseat of a waiting car.  Aside from the fact that his head was pounding so hard it felt as if his skull was coming apart, Daniel realized there was no reason to risk a repeat episode when it was impossible to plot anything until he knew exactly where they were going.  If he attempted to make a run for it Tyler would have a distinct advantage – several dozen soldiers at his disposal and an intimate knowledge of the facility. Daniel had neither.  He had been to Nellis, the infamous Area 51, only twice before and that had been in the daylight with Jack playing tour guide.  In the dark with no idea where he was going or even which direction to run once he was free Daniel was well aware he would be kidding himself if he thought escape was a possibility.  Of course, once inside the facility the odds dropped considerably.  Nellis was one of the most heavily guarded installations in the country, specifically designed to keep secret things secret.  If their holding cells were anything like the SGC’s his only real hope of escape was going to be with help and as the car sped through the night he wondered how long it would take for Jack and General Hammond to figure out where he’d gone.

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>             <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

General Hammond sped into the parking lot that morning, his mind already a buzz, his temper keeping pace.  He had called the Sentry over an hour earlier to find out if Dr. Jackson had been returned to the base during the night, not entirely surprised to find he had not. 

So far his calls to Dr. McKenzie had gone unanswered as well as those to Colonel Tyler.  He had left so many messages he had lost count and was no closer to an answer than when he had started.  The twitching suspicion that had kept him up most of the night was growing louder.  Dr. Jackson had been gone for over fifteen hours with no communication and Hammond was willing to bet McKenzie wouldn’t have a clue what he was talking about when he finally managed to get hold of the man and demand an explanation.  Presidential Order or not, it was beginning to look very much like Tyler had kidnapped Dr. Jackson. 

With the Leader of the Free World backing the investigation Hammond could hardly understand the reason for the deception.  Tyler could have taken him anywhere he damn well pleased and there wouldn’t have been anything anyone could do about it.  Why not just admit what he was doing? There was only one answer to that question and it was making Hammond’s stomach twist as he strode determinedly through the halls toward his office.  Tyler was planning something he didn’t want anyone else to know about, at least not until it was far too late to stop him.  A scowl wrinkled his face as he realized Dr. Jackson was most likely in far greater danger than they’d thought…and he was going to have to be the one to break the news to Jack.

            “I checked Daniel’s quarters.” Jack said, appearing in Hammond’s office seconds after the General had entered it. He looked rumpled despite the fresh fatigues.  “Tell me he’s just in the commissary getting coffee.”

            “I’m afraid not.  Dr. Jackson hasn't returned to base yet.” He explained bracing himself for the tirade he knew was coming.

            “I knew it.” Jack stated, face and hands twitching.

            “I’ve left at least a dozen messages for McKenzie and easily the same for Tyler.  We’re bound to hear from one of them.” He explained trying to be optimistic.

            “And when we do…?” Jack asked obviously struggling to control his temper.

            “McKenzie will most likely have no idea where Dr. Jackson is or what the hell I’m talking about.”

            “That little shit of a bastard.  I knew he was lying.” Jack growled.

            “About everything, but the President's approval it would seem.” Hammond said. “I saw the Order with my own eyes.”

            “Then I suggest we use the red phone and demand an answer.  If the President is backing this whole…thing, then he should know exactly where Daniel is.”

            “We don’t have enough information to go to the President just yet, Colonel.  For all we know this is just a misunderstanding.”

            “You don’t really believe that.”

            “I don’t know what to believe, but what exactly would you suggest I tell the President?  We think something might have happened, but we don’t know for sure because no one will return our calls?” he asked. “Besides, at this point I’m not sure he would be much help.”

            “Why not?  Too busy polishing his shoes for a press conference?”

            “If Tyler lied to us to get Dr. Jackson off the base without incident then it’s entirely possible he wasn’t completely truthful with the President either.”

            “Which is exactly why we should call him.  We shouldn't be the only ones feeling like idiots right now, Sir.” Jack groused.

            “Unfortunately we’re going to need more time to sort things out before we go any higher with this, Colonel."

            "What if Daniel doesn't have that kind of time?"

            "Be reasonable, Jack." Hammond sighed. "Tyler might be a calculating little weasel, but he's not a murderer.  He's also not entirely unpredictable." Hammond added, as Jack opened his mouth to argue. "We’re not completely in the dark about where he might have gone.”

            “Sir?”

            “I’d stake my pension on the fact that he’s in Nevada.”

            “Nellis.” Jack stated, his dark expression lightening as he grasped the possibility with both hands.

            “Most likely.”  

“Permission to take a team down there, find Daniel and kick Tyler’s slime encrusted ass, Sir.” Jack stated, eyes blazing.

            “Permission denied.” Hammond said. “I don’t think barging in the front door is going to get us very far.  If that is where Tyler’s taken him he’s gone to a lot of trouble to keep us in the dark and I think for the time being we should let him think he’s done just that.”

            “Sir?”

            “We’ve got nothing to go on right now, Colonel.  Even if you managed to get on base there is no way Tyler would let you search the facility without official authorization.   For the time being we don’t have any choice, but to sit tight and try to figure out what he is up to.”

            “Sir, sitting tight is not one of my strong points.”

            “I know that, Colonel, but it’s an order.”

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Colonel Leslie Tyler sat at the desk in his dimly lit office and stared alternately at the computer screen and the small black and white monitor beside it.  One had a view of a recent report from an NID operative working covertly in Stanislaw on a special mission to infiltrate the Soviet stargate program.  The other showed Daniel Jackson pacing the floor in his new quarters.

            Tyler huffed to himself as he compared what he’d seen so far of Dr. Jackson to the legend that had been created by previous commanders of the NID.  It was no secret trips to the SGC were aggravating at best and loathsome more often than not.  The combined assault from Dr. Jackson and Colonel O’Neill guaranteed little progress in any direction and a major headache.  Not to mention the determined lack of cooperation from General Hammond whose judgement had been irreparably compromised by them.  However, from what he had seen so far his predecessors had given Dr. Jackson far too much credit.  He was certainly obstinate and obviously lacked a decent sense of self-preservation, but he was far from a formidable challenge.  One escape attempt that had been dealt with easily enough, a few smart remarks and he was reduced to petulant scowls and reluctant obedience.  They had marched him into his cell without so much as a hissy fit. 

            It was beginning to appear the only thing he really had to fear from the infamous archaeologist was a possible headache from his goody-two-shoes attitude.  His insistence that the military “do the right thing” when it came to encounters with aliens had been thoroughly documented in mission log after mission log since the program began.  Unfortunately it seemed his influence was highly contagious, an emotional plague in which Jackson was the Typhoid Mary of conscience.  By the time he had died, or rather ascended, even Hammond had fallen prey to it, giving orders based on moral conscience rather than strategic benefit.  It was sickening.  It was appalling, but fortunately it was curable. 

He had thought the problem was solved when Daniel Jackson had been listed as Missing in Action, the official declaration of Killed in Action being held off mostly at the insistence of Colonel O’Neill.  Finally, with the source of the ethical virus gone things could go back to normal and the SGC would be a military base again rather than a miniature version of the UN, sent to spread goodwill and harmony throughout the universe.  The focus could return to the program's original purpose: gathering alien technology to be used in defense of Earth.  Unfortunately the carrier of the plague had returned. 

            Tyler remembered very clearly the day he had received the report from the SGC that a resurrected Dr. Jackson had been found alive and well on a planet half way across the universe.  He had been furious, livid that all the groundwork they had laid over the previous year was about to be mangled beyond recognition.  The hope of bringing the SGC fully under NID command was hinged on the notion that without a certain meddling archaeologist sticking his nose where it didn’t belong they could reform the rest of the command back into a real military installation.  A place where no one gave a damn whether or not they were doing the right thing as long as Earth benefited from the encounter.  He was certain their painfully built momentum was about to grind to a halt.  However, as the first of the mission logs including the reanimated Dr. Jackson rolled across his desk Tyler realized all might not be lost. Dr. Jackson, it seemed, was not entirely himself.  He was still the same exasperating crusader he had always been, but there was a new confidence in him, a sense of authority that had been missing before.  Something had changed and Tyler wanted to know what that something was.  Of course, the idea of questioning him was a waste of time.  If he had ulterior motives he most certainly wasn’t going to lay them out on the table simply because the NID asked.  In order to get the information they were going to be reduced to stalking the man in the hopes of catching a glimpse of something before it was too late, an idea that was completely unacceptable.

            Then one afternoon Tyler had stumbled across an old report documenting a certain member of SG-1 being taken into custody for study.  In that case it had been Teal’c, an individual they had been dying to get their hands on from the beginning.  He had been exposed to alien venom, which had started a fascinating process of rewriting his DNA, or so the report had said.  Tyler wasn’t a scientist and didn’t care about studies, tests or lab experiments.  Neither had Harry Maybourne, the man who had been in charge of the NID at the time.  All he cared about was the fact that finally they had a legitimate excuse to do what they had wanted to do from the start: uncover the alien’s secrets.  It had given Tyler an idea.  Maybourne, the poor, unfortunate and none too bright patsy had come up with the perfect solution.  Jackson had information vital to the continued existence of the planet; information he claimed was inaccessible thanks to a bout of amnesia.  A claim Tyler wasn't buying.  As far as he was concerned Jackson's admission that the information existed in the first place gave him the excuse he needed to take him into custody.  All he had required was a little well placed misdirection where the SGC was concerned and the equivalent of a restraining order that came directly from the Oval Office.  The plan had been flawless, brilliant in its simplicity…and it had worked like a charm.

            Finally the source of years of headaches was tucked away in a cell in Area 51’s very secure basement and there he would stay until Tyler had managed to find out exactly what he knew.  Depending on the amount of information he was hiding that could take some time.  Time during which Tyler would have to keep his incarceration a secret or at least the real reason behind it.  However, it was worth the risk because when it was over Tyler would be the most powerful man on the planet, all the secrets of the Lost City held in his hands.  At that point, unfortunately for poor Dr. Jackson, he would be of absolutely no use and could be swept permanently aside. 

Tyler had no intention of killing him.  The man had a nasty habit of coming back from the dead and bringing certain information with him.  Instead he would spend the remainder of his days confined to a small cell in some forgotten dungeon somewhere, kept alive as long as possible to ensure any secrets he died with were obsolete if he returned. 

The urge to throw his head back and howl in triumph was almost overwhelming.  Instead Tyler settled for leaning back in his chair grinning at the small black and white image.  The plan was working already and thanks to Jackson’s escape attempt it was going to work even better than he had hoped. 

Hammond would see through his hypnosis ruse eventually and after that it was just a matter of the General gathering enough incriminating or at least highly suspicious information to make questioning the President about the Order he had signed worth the risk.  Tyler estimated approximately 48 hours of peace and quiet before some very big fists came pounding on his door demanding an explanation. 

The original plan had been to run Jackson through the ringer, mercilessly squeezing information out of him as quickly as possible before offering a flimsy, though essentially indisputable claim of an office snafu; nothing more than a simple miscommunication between his staff and McKenzie's.  Afterwards he would return Jackson to the SGC with apparently sincere apologies for the confusion as well as the unfortunate injury the good doctor had incurred while trying to escape; a nasty bump on the head producing hopefully only temporary short-term memory loss.  There would be no mention of the object used to bludgeon him or the drug used to erase his memory.  It was risky and would have required flawless execution, but at the time it was all he had. 

Now with the claim that Dr. Jackson had become suicidal and Tyler had been forced to take action to save him from himself the old plan had been immediately cast aside for one that was far less tenuous.  He suddenly had a ready made excuse to keep the man in custody easily long enough to glean the information he needed as well as begin the next phase of his plan, a phase that was at that moment beginning to take shape.

After a few days of sucking Jackson’s brain dry of every bit of relevant information Tyler would be saddened to report that the man had once again become unstable.  Only this time he would manage to take his own life thanks to the incompetence of a guard who would be duly reprimanded.  After a thorough investigation, which would corroborate his story, a solemn group of soldiers would return the body to the SGC where his friends could dispose of him once and for all.  It wasn't completely fool proof, but by the time anyone realized there might be cause for suspicion he would be safely out of reach and Jackson would be tucked away somewhere, presumed dead and unable to tell anyone otherwise.

            Tyler rested his feet on the corner of his desk, fingers laced behind his head as he watched Daniel’s continued pacing.  He hadn’t lied when he had told Dr. Jackson he would be a household name after the Stargate program came to light.  He fully intended to give credit where credit was due.  He had just neglected to mention that Daniel would have to experience the notoriety from the confines of a cell from which only death could release him. 

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>                     <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel woke the next morning in the same holding cell where they had put him the night before, furnished with a single cot, a small table, a chair, and a camera high up in the corner monitoring his every move.  He had slept little, spending most of the night staring up toward the ceiling, the red light of the camera glowing at him in the darkness.  His mind had been running full speed searching for a solution or at the very least a decent guess as to what Tyler had in mind.  Unfortunately he hadn't come up with much. 

The only thing he had managed to figure out was that the temptation to become completely paranoid about his surroundings was a waste of energy.  He could assume all kinds of things about the food being drugged or microphones being hidden in his room, but he knew all too well how the NID operated.  If they wanted something they simply took it, all of their abuse was inflicted right out in the open.  If they wanted to drug him they would jam a needle into his arm.  If they wanted information they would strap him to a chair and wrench it out of him by whatever means necessary.  There was no need for covert measures especially not at Nellis.

            Rubbing at his eyes he sat up on the cot his stomach already tight with anticipation of what the day would bring.  Before he had a chance to remind himself not to think about it he was startled by a sudden pounding on the door followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.  Instantly every muscle in his body tensed as he sat gripping the bed's metal frame.  A guard appeared in the doorway and entered the room without a word before stepping aside to allow a second guard entrance.  It wasn't until he saw the tray of food that Daniel began to relax.  The soldier stalked to the table and dropped the metal tray with a bang, food toppling and rolling from it when it clattered against the tabletop.  Daniel watched in silence as the men retreated and once again locked the door, waiting until they were gone before he moved, the cot creaking as he rose.

            It had been a long time since he had eaten.  They hadn’t bothered to feed him the night before, not that he had been particularly hungry.  With his back deliberately to the camera he wolfed down the almost cold toast and powdered eggs washing it down with the bottle of water.  For a long moment he considered hiding the plastic fork in his clothes, but thought better of it.  What good was a plastic utensil against a room full of armed men? 

            With the food settling in his stomach Daniel sat back in his chair uncertain what to do with himself.  There was nothing to look at, nothing to keep him occupied other than planning his escape, but he didn’t have enough information to do anything more than wildly speculate.  For the time being it seemed there was nothing to do, but sit and wait.  Fortunately for his growing boredom, but unfortunately for his peace of mind, the guards returned a few minutes later and escorted him out of the cell. 

They didn’t speak and neither did he as they ushered him through corridor after corridor, into an elevator and down several levels.  Opening a door at the end of one hall, they herded him into a room that would have had Jack groaning at the cliché.  It was empty except for a single chair in the center of the floor and a small observation room along one wall.  The chair was akin to something found in a dentist’s office marring the illusion a bit, but practically all that was missing was the bare bulb dangling from the ceiling.  If it hadn’t been for the tightening knot in his stomach he might have laughed out loud.  Unfortunately, there was really nothing funny about it.  It was obviously a room designed strictly for interrogations and not much else.  Whatever they had in mind to do to him they were going to do it here.  The fact that he recognized the chair didn’t help to calm his nerves.  It was the same design the Tok'ra had used in conjunction with the Zat’ark detector, slightly reclined with restraints for his arms, legs and head.  The offending detector was missing, but that could be easily remedied or replaced with something just as unpleasant.

Years ago he would have comforted himself with the idea that he was an American citizen with constitutional rights, but after so much time spent with the likes of Maybourne and Simmons it had become obvious that to certain governmental entities rights were an illusion.  Something dreamed up only to make it easier for the general public to sleep at night, certainly not anything to be taken seriously. The fact that Tyler had already drugged and kidnapped him spoke very clearly of the fact that as far as humane treatment went all bets were off. 

            “Have a seat, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler said pleasantly as he entered the room, striding in between the guards, Daniel standing just inside the room glaring at his surroundings.

            “I think I’ll stand.” He said taking a page out of Jack's handbook for dealing with egomaniacal captors.

            Just because Tyler had managed to take him prisoner didn't mean he had to make it easy for him to get what he was after.  

            “Put him in the chair.” Tyler sighed. “Dr. Jackson, there’s no need to be difficult.  This can be over in a few hours or it can drag on for days.  I personally have no preference.”

            “Why don’t I believe that?” Daniel said as the airmen grabbed him by his arms before picking him up and shoving him into the chair. 

            “I’m not the enemy here.” Tyler informed him while he struggled against the two men intent on strapping him in.  “You can continue to make this hard on yourself or you can simply tell me what I want to know.” Tyler added. “Like I said, one way or another I will find out what you're hiding.  Comfortable?” he asked as Daniel sat shackled to the chair, his head still free for the time being. “Let’s start with an easy question.  What can you tell me about the aliens you refer to as ‘the Ancients’?”

            “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

            “Come now, Dr. Jackson, it’s in your mission report.”

            “Then maybe you should read the report.”    

            “Don’t play games with me,” Tyler bellowed suddenly “or I will make this very unpleasant for you.  Now tell me what you know!”

            “I don’t know anything about them that isn’t in that report.  This is a waste of time.”

            “Fine.” Tyler said. "Have it your way."

One of the airmen opened the door at a snap of Tyler's fingers and admitted entrance to a short, balding man in a lab coat with a nametag that simply said “Stilman”.  The mystery man, who was most likely civilian judging by his clothes, was pushing a small cart in front of him.  Daniel swallowed nervously.  Tyler was silent as the door closed again and Stilman opened a box on the cart, removing a tiny object and carrying it over to Daniel.

            “I believe you are already familiar with this device.” Tyler said as Daniel caught a glimpse of the small gold disk with the dark crystal center.        A goa’uld memory device.  He cringed inside, resisting the urge to shy away from it, determined not to flinch as the device was pressed to his temple and he felt the sharp sting of a tiny probe boring into his head.  Tyler remained silent as Stilman connected the device to a laptop computer by a thin wire.

            “Now,” Tyler began again after a nod from the technician “tell me what you know about the Ancients.”

            "I told you.  I don't know anything that isn't in that report."

            Daniel couldn’t see the screen, but could only assume his thoughts were being broadcast to it in place of the holographic technology the goa’uld had used.  Knowing full well that any and all of his memories were now easily viewed by Tyler, he led his thoughts in a completely different direction, conjuring up old images of the Nox instead.

            “Tell me about your ascension.” Tyler said, Daniel focusing on his interactions with Jonas Quinn, stopping just before the explosion in the lab.

            "There's not much to tell." He said. "I died.  I ascended.  I came back."

            “You must remember something about where you were, who you were with, what you did.” Tyler coaxed. “At the very least your death.  The radiation sickness, the infirmary, the excruciating pain, your friends’ mourning…”

            For an instant Daniel’s mind flashed to the memory of his first few moments back on earth after the leaders of Kelowna had released him.  The scene in the infirmary with Janet barking orders as she pulled on a hazmat suit before ushering him to the showers for decontamination, clothes and all.  He knew it was exactly what Tyler wanted, but he couldn’t help himself.  Finally jerking the scene to a halt he forced himself to think about something much less emotional, not wanting to give the Colonel anything to work with. 

His mind was filled with a vision of he, Jack, Sam and Teal’c in Jack’s living room eating pizza and drinking beer during one of their many weekend get togethers.

            “Tell me about Shefu.” Tyler said, an icy edge to his tone. “Your dead wife’s bastard son.”

            An involuntary sneer curled Daniel’s lip and for a fraction of a second the image of Shau’ri in labor came unbidden to his mind.  Obviously controlling his thoughts was going to be more difficult than he had imagined.  Tyler made a reference to something and it automatically popped into his head, a dangerous thing when even a split second of the wrong image could eventually give the man what he was after.  It was time, Daniel realized, to take a more active approach.  Eyes still open, he slowed his breathing and focused on the wall across the room, slipping into a light meditation and clearing his mind of all thoughts.

            “What’s going on?” Tyler snapped, glaring at the computer screen. “What happened to the picture?”

            “I don’t know, Sir.” Stilman replied, clearly puzzled and more than a little intimidated by the man looking over his shoulder.

            “Well fix it!”

            “There’s nothing wrong with it.”

            “If there were nothing wrong with it, Doctor,” he spat “there would be a picture.”

            “The computer shows we are getting an active feed from the subject.  We’re seeing what he’s thinking.”

            Tyler tore his attention away from the computer and began glaring at Daniel.

            “Playing games are we?” he said, approaching the chair. “I like games, Dr. Jackson, though I have a feeling you and I don’t exactly play by the same rules.  Roll up his sleeve.” He snapped.

            Daniel’s concentration wavered as one of the airmen stepped up to the chair and tugged at the sleeve on his shirt.

            “Don’t!” Daniel demanded.

            “I gave you your chance.” Tyler shrugged.

            “You can’t do this!”

            “Ah, but I can.” He smirked as Stilman swabbed Daniel’s arm and jabbed him none too gently with a needle.

            Just like before the effects were instantaneous, but this time it didn’t put him to sleep.  Instead he felt only relaxed and incredibly calm, the fear evaporating.  Jack’s face floated to the front of his mind.  Good old Jack.  Jack would fix everything, he always did. 

            “Now, Dr. Jackson,” Tyler said calmly, seeing the image of Jack’s face on the screen.  “Tell me about your Colonel O’Neill.”

            “He’s a good guy.” Daniel said. “Doesn't give himself enough credit.  We were on Abydos together, back with Ra.  Did you know he has a telescope…on the roof of his house?”

            “And what does he know about the Ancients?”

            “I don’t know.” Daniel shrugged. “He doesn’t really know any…except Oma. She's always talking in riddles.  He hates that…takes too much patience.”

            “What do the riddles talk about?”

            “Candles…bare feet…magic.” He said, dreamily remembering their first encounter on Kheb and the monk they had met.

            Tyler frowned at the screen and the image of the bald headed monk sitting cross- legged on a pile of black sand.  “Tell me about Oma.”

            Instantly Daniel could see her standing on the ramp in the gate room, shimmering and glowing like she was nothing more than a figment of his imagination.

            “Lightening flashes, sparks shower…” Daniel mumbled “in the blink of an eye you have mis-seen.”

            “How much did you give him?” Tyler snapped, glaring from the screen to Daniel.

            “Only enough to relax him.”

            “Well obviously it was too much.  He’s useless like this.  Take him back to his cell.” Tyler growled.

            “You don’t understand.” Daniel said to him, shaking his head. “You’ll never find her.”

            “I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Dr. Jackson.”

            “She doesn’t even have a planet.” He explained as they unstrapped him. “She’s everywhere…and nowhere.”

            “You’d better hope she’s somewhere.” He warned. “Because you’re staying right here until we find her.  Get him out of here.”

            Daniel sauntered down the hall, shaking his head to himself.  Tyler understood even less than Jack.  Oma couldn’t be found unless she wanted to be.  It wasn’t as simple as dialing up an address or sending out a signal.  She came when she wanted.  She left when she wanted.  In fact, he wasn’t even sure he could find her again if he needed her.  It was possible the next time death came calling he would be on his own.  Oddly enough, he wasn’t sure he minded the idea.  Maybe it was better just to be buried and call it over. 

            “What do you think?” he asked one of the guards who was escorting him back through the maze to his cell. “If you died would you rather be turned into an energy being who pops in and out of rooms, floats through the air like a ghost or just be buried in a box?”

            “I don’t know.  A box I guess.” The man said looking at him like he was most obviously out of his mind.

            “You see, I didn’t think so at first.  After all there has to be something beyond just dead, you know?  But the more I think about it the more I think maybe just dead wouldn’t be so bad. Then all this crap with the goa’uld and the NID would be over.”

            “Will you shut up?” the other man snapped, Daniel looking over at him curiously, unable to understanding the outburst. “Who gives a shit?” The man added, scowling back at him.

            “We were just discussing…”

            “I don’t care what you were just discussing.  Shut it.”

            Daniel sighed and continued down the hall in silence.  Why were military people always so reluctant to talk about things like death and feelings and anything that didn’t have to do with missions and guns?  What were they afraid of?

            “Jack never liked to talk about that stuff either.  He used to be a lot like you, all bravado.  He hated it when I…”

            "I said 'shut up'." The man growled.

            "You should try meditation." Daniel suggested, changing topics, completely unfazed by the interruption. "It'll help you relax.  Imagine yourself in an empty room."

            “That’s it!” the man snarled grabbing Daniel by the shirt, arm pulled back to deliver a blow.

            “Clobber him if you want,” the other guard said, trying to wedge himself between them “but I don’t want to have to explain to Tyler why he’s got a black eye.  Do you?”

            “One more word out of you and I’ll put your lights out.  I mean it.” The man said, giving Daniel a good shake and shoving him away.

            Daniel stumbled a few steps, trying to get his footing only to have the second guard open the door to his cell and shove him in.  He landed in a heap on the concrete floor glaring back at the men before they slammed the door closed.  He sat for a moment trying to figure out what had just happened when a vision of Teal'c came to mind, one so vivid it was almost like seeing a movie.  It was then he realized the memory device was still attached to the side of his head.  Reaching up to his temple Daniel pried it loose stifling a gasp as he tore it away from his face, a sharp pain slamming into that side of his head.  He tossed it across the room as he wobbled to his feet and headed for the cot, suddenly drained.  Stretching out on the mattress he tried not to think about what lay ahead, which was quite easy with the drug still flowing through his system.

            He definitely didn’t like Tyler.  The man was dangerous, but all he had to do was wait it out.  Jack would rescue him sooner or later.  That was the thing about Jack, he mused, rolling onto his side.  He always came through, though not necessarily right away.  Sometimes you had to wait a bit.  So he would wait, Jack would come and that would be that.  There was supposed to be something more complicated than that.  He was certain of it, but whatever the missing detail was he didn’t care at the moment.  A nap, maybe some lunch and then he’d try to figure it out.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>                       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            “Get up.” Demanded a less than friendly voice followed by the cot jerking underneath him as the guard kicked it.  Daniel rolled over and glared sleepily at the man. “Now.” He added, grabbing him by the arm and jerking him into a sitting position.

            “What’s going on?” Daniel asked, getting to his feet, his mind still slightly clouded and his legs like lead. 

            “You’ve been ordered to the infirmary.  Move.” The second guard answered impatiently giving Daniel a shove when he moved too slowly.

            “What time is it?” he asked, shuffling into the hall.

            “None of your damn business.” The first guard replied, Daniel not entirely surprised by the answer.

            Slowly his mind started to turn as they headed once again for the elevators.  This time it was the infirmary.  The concept didn't make a whole lot of sense.  Other than still being slightly drugged he felt fine, but obviously Tyler had something in mind.  Tests maybe?  A CAT scan to check him for a symbiote?  He’d been through enough of Janet’s post mission physicals to not be very concerned about needles and scanning equipment.  What did concern him was the fact that it was Tyler who had ordered it.  Not to mention the notion that they were going to be poking and prodding him in possibly the same building they had used to dissect and study various aliens.  Daniel tried not to think about it as they rode the elevator down several floors. 

            Once upon a time the term “alien” had conjured up images of little gray men who looked at lot like the Asguard and a slight tingling of uncertainty at the stories of those who claimed to have been kidnapped.  He had never believed them, but was willing to concede that at the very least it was possible.  Now, however, after years spent traveling the universe, meeting dozens of beings who fell into the category of “alien” he felt a definite sense of sympathy at the thought of what might have been done to them in the name of scientific curiosity.  Not to mention a pang of remorse that he hadn’t seen them long ago for what they really were: self-aware, intelligent beings, most of them peaceful. 

            The sight of what passed for an infirmary at Nellis did nothing to settle his nerves.  It was about the same size as the interrogation room, complete with yet another observation deck.  This time, however, the room was far from empty.  There were various pieces of medical equipment lining the walls, an array of surgical lights on the ceiling, and a single gurney in the center complete with five-point restraints. 

            The guards turned him over to a bored looking and slightly hostile Captain who ordered him to strip out of his clothes and change into a typical, backless examination gown.  The closest the man had come to giving him any measure of privacy was to focus his attention on the sample under the lens of his microscope, obviously annoyed at the interruption Daniel’s physical represented.

            “On the table.” The man commanded when Daniel had finished changing. 

Mildly annoyed, himself, Daniel slid onto the table without bothering to argue, the gown nearly choking him as he tried to do so without the back coming open. 

“Lie down.” Came the next demand, the Captain grabbing one of his arms and proceeding to strap him to the gurney.

            “I don’t think those are really necessary.” He finally protested.

            “I do.” The man replied jerking the restraint tight enough around Daniel’s wrist to make him grimace in pain, before doing the same to his other arm as well as both ankles.

            Once his subject was securely restrained, he snapped on a pair of gloves, wheeled a tray of needles, vials and various instruments over to the gurney and with a glare fixed firmly on his face, began the physical.

            By the time Daniel was returned to his room nearly two hours later he had been scanned, x-rayed, probed, jabbed and drained of what had seemed like nearly a pint of blood.  His wrists and ankles ached from the restraints as well as several other parts of him due to the Captain’s complete lack of bedside manner.  He was hungry, frustrated, annoyed with the entire situation and in no mood to be messed with by Tyler or anyone else.  Unfortunately, Tyler didn’t seem to care whether he was in the mood or not. 

            Daniel was just easing himself onto his cot for a much needed rest when the door to his cell flew open again.  For a moment he was hoping they were bringing him the lunch he had missed while he had been in the infirmary, but when a new pair of guards strolled in he knew that wasn’t going to be the case. 

While they weren’t his normal set of goons, judging by the expressions on their faces and the way they ordered him back out of the room they weren’t going to be much of an improvement. He shuffled into the hall, his boots rubbing at sore spots on his ankles, and allowed himself to be marched back to the elevators and into the interrogation room. 

            The place looked the same as it had earlier that morning, but with a very noticeable addition.  Sitting in front of the chair was a machine that looked remarkably like a Zata’rk detector.  Daniel swallowed.

            “Good afternoon, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler greeted as he strolled into the room. “I hope you’ve had a chance to reconsider your attitude since this morning. “In the chair, if you please.” He added, patting the armrest as he wandered by. 

Daniel stood unmoving, Tyler responding with a snap of his fingers, motioning toward the chair.  The guards immediately grabbed Daniel by the arms and dragged him toward it, shoving him forcefully into it, once again strapping him down.  His scowl deepened as they manhandled places on him that were already tender, but thankfully the restraints didn’t fall in exactly the same position as the ones on the gurney.  His relief, however, was short lived when they jerked them at least one position tighter than necessary.

“I wanted to be nice about his, Dr. Jackson, I really did.” Tyler said. “I gave you a chance to cooperate, but unfortunately you are as stubborn as I’ve been led to believe.  I trust you recognize this.” He continued, patting the Zata’rk detector lightly as he settled behind it. “It’s a very similar design to the one the Tok’ra used a few years ago.  That’s assuming you remember that far back.” He smirked.

Daniel knew the machine and what it was capable of, but not from first hand memory.  He’d read the mission log detailing the hunt for compromised members of the SGC and the Tok’ra.  If he recalled correctly three people had died.

“This version is a little different from the one you previously dealt with.  It’s been modified for just such an occasion.” Tyler added giving a nod to Stilman, who had also joined them. “While the original version was designed to detect and destroy the compromised part of a person’s brain we find that method to be a bit counterproductive in these situations.  You see, I fully expect you to lie, Dr. Jackson.” He continued as the scientist attached another mind probe to the side of Daniel’s head. “However, I can’t have you purposely destroying the information I want in a misguided attempt to protect it.  Therefore we have fitted this particular piece of equipment with a slightly different feature.  Allow me to demonstrate.  Focus your eyes here.” He instructed, pointing to the detecting eye of the machine. 

Warily Daniel looked at it certain he was not going to like whatever modifications the NID had made.

“What do you know about the Ancients?” Tyler asked.

“Not much.” Daniel replied.  Almost instantly a bolt of electricity raced through the chair, his body jerking against the restraints as every muscle tightened.  Then as quickly as it had struck him, it was over leaving him gasping for air and every nerve in his body aching.

“It delivers an electrical charge almost equivalent to that of a Zatn’catl, but unlike the goa’uld weapon this one will not render you unconscious, nor will it kill you…at least not as quickly.  Now,” Tyler said with a triumphant gleam in his eye. “Shall we try this again?”

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            General Hammond hung up the phone doing his best to control his temper before finally giving up the attempt and bringing his hand down on the desk hard enough to rattle the eagle statue on the corner.  The muscles in his jaw twitching, he pressed the intercom button.

            “Have SG-1 and Dr. Frasier report to the briefing room on the double.” He said, not entirely successful at keeping the frustration out of his tone.

            Moments later Jack, Sam, Teal’c and Janet filed into the briefing room, Hammond joining them before they’d had a chance to sit down.

            “People, we have a problem.” He stated. “I just received a fax from Colonel Tyler.  He is holding Dr. Jackson at Nellis Air Force Base for psychiatric evaluation.”

            “He’s what?!” Jack blurted, lunging out of the chair he’d barely settled into.

            “Why?” Sam asked.

            “Apparently Dr. Jackson attempted to throw himself from a moving vehicle on the way to the Academy Hospital.  Tyler is calling it a suicide attempt.”

            “That’s ridiculous.” Janet stated.

            “We're not buying this load of horse shit are we General?” Jack asked.

            “I do not believe Daniel Jackson would attempt to harm himself.” Teal’c chimed in.

            “No, I’m not buying it,” Hammond assured them “but he has come up with a very convincing story.  He claims Dr. Jackson was so distraught at the idea of being treated by Dr. McKenzie that he attempted to take his own life.  Tyler flew him to Nellis out of concern for his welfare and is holding him on suicide watch until further notice.”

            “Unbelievable.” Jack groused, hands clenching into fists where he stood.

            “What are we going to do, Sir?” Janet asked.

            “At the moment, I don’t know.  I’ve been trying to reach the President, but he’s been unavailable all afternoon and, of course, Tyler isn’t returning any of my calls.  If you have any ideas about how to proceed I’m all ears, people.” He explained.

            “You’ve already heard my suggestion, General and the offer still stands.” Jack said.

            “So does my answer.  There is no way Tyler is going to let you anywhere near Dr. Jackson.  In fact I would be surprised if he even let you past the main gate.”

            “Do we know Daniel is really there?” Sam asked.

            “I did some digging and found out Tyler filed a flight plan yesterday afternoon.  His Lear jet left the Colorado Springs airport and landed at the secure strip at Area 51.  I can’t confirm Dr. Jackson was on it, but I’d say it’s likely.”

            “Can we not covertly gain access to the base?” Teal’c asked. “Perhaps under the cover of darkness.”

            “It wouldn’t work any better there than it would here.  Nellis is one of the most heavily guarded facilities we have.”

            “Besides because of where it’s located I’m sure they’re used to having people try to sneak in.” Sam added.

            “Then it looks like we’re going to have to wait for the President to become available.” Hammond sighed.

            “Sir, I have a contact at Nellis.  Not very high up, but he might be able to do a little recon for us.” Sam offered.

            “Get on it, Major.”

            “Yes, Sir.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            “They've got Daniel in the Delta building under constant guard.” Sam confirmed several hours later, Hammond sighing heavily.

            The Delta building was a section of the base so secure only a select few had the necessary clearance to come anywhere near it.  It had its own guard station with its own security fence inside the Nellis gates.  Any and every nasty little secret the government had about aliens and their technology was in that building along with quite a few other things the military didn't want anyone to know about.  Most of the personnel on base had no idea what was really stored within its walls, but rumors abounded.  The fact that Daniel had apparently been classified worthy of such vigilant security meant things had just gone from bad to worse.  Sam knew there would be no way for her contact to get anywhere near him, certainly not near enough to verify Tyler’s story.

            She knew Hammond had been making calls all afternoon attempting to uncover the truth behind Tyler’s cover story, but didn’t seem to be getting very far. Tyler had a Presidential Order to carry out the investigation and those weren’t easy to come by.  The fact that he possessed one validated his story without any need for further questioning.  The General’s insistence that they take another look wasn’t making him any friends in Washington, but nevertheless he was determined to make someone with clout see his point of view. 

            “I don’t suppose you’ve been able to get anywhere?” Sam asked.

            “Unfortunately, no.” Hammond admitted. “The only place I have left to go is the White House, but so far I’m being stone walled.”

            “What are you going to do?”

            “I don’t know yet, Major, but I’m not giving up until I get to the bottom of this.”

            “No, Sir.” She replied before dismissing herself.

            Daniel had only been back at the SGC for a month, hardly time for him to settle in.  Hardly time for the rest of them to get used to the idea of having him around again.  The first two weeks had been hard, not as hard as losing him, but it had been difficult knowing he remembered very little about them or his life before he’d died.  With his mind cleared of the memory of any of the experiences that had shaped him, made him who he was, he was a distinctly different person.  He made the same facial expressions and gestured with his hands in the same way, but how he acted and reacted hadn’t been entirely Daniel-like. 

            Lately he had just begun to return to something resembling the man they had known as his memories slipped back into place.  Some of the differences still remained, but with each passing day he was becoming more and more like the old Daniel Jackson.  He was a little more confident, a little more open, a little less hesitant when it came to physical contact, but none of that really bothered them.  Finally he was close enough to being the man he had been that they were all breathing a sigh of relief, settling back into the comfortable companionship they had been missing. 

            It had never occurred to Sam that his welcomed reappearance in their lives would make him a target and certainly not a target of their own government.  Looking back she realized they should have expected something like this.  After all, he had been listed as Missing in Action for over a year, presumed dead even if they hadn’t actually put it in writing.  At the very least it would have been assumed he had spent that time as a prisoner of one alien group or another.  His miraculous reappearance would have looked amazingly suspicious to anyone outside the SGC.  To anyone who hadn’t been in the room when he’d ascended.  Those types of things were impossible to document on paper with any amount of accuracy.  Someone like Tyler, used to mind games and doubletalk, could have easily interpreted it as Daniel’s nearly lifeless body being taken hostage by an alien force and then returned a year later for who knew what purpose.  As much as she hated to admit it, she could see Tyler’s point, though it didn’t excuse his actions. 

Striding through the halls, Sam headed for the VIP room Jack had commandeered, to break the news about Daniel's location and see if he’d had any luck coming up with a viable rescue plan.  He’d been in conference with Major Wallace, the team leader of the Marine unit known as SG-3, Major Griff who had been on a previous mission to rescue Daniel from the Unas on P3X888, and Colonel Newsome, an old friend that was now leading SG-10.  The group had been holed up for hours, eventually adding Teal’c to the circle. 

Sam had to admit she felt a bit slighted at not being asked to join them, but at the same time she reluctantly understood why.  Never mind the fact that she was still seen as a girl playing in a boy’s sandbox and when the chips were down the boys would much rather play by themselves.  If Hammond couldn’t find the right kind of help to get Daniel out of this mess Jack was most likely going to break whatever rules were necessary to do it illegally.  That meant anyone participating in the rescue mission was agreeing to put their career on the line and risk a court martial.  Teal’c was immune, the rest had obviously weighed things out in their own minds and decided the cause was worth it.  In her case Jack was attempting to make that decision for her.  Trying to protect her by shielding her from the guilt like he had done many times in the past.  If she didn’t know what was going on she couldn’t be held accountable for it.  That was, of course, assuming she didn’t actually participate in the mission.  However, if he intended to go after Daniel he was going to have to drug her and chain her to the wall in a holding cell to keep her from going with them, a point she intended to make abundantly clear to her Commanding Officer. 

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>              <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Colonel Tyler sat in his office scowling at the report in front of him.  The results of the extensive tests he’d had performed on Daniel had been a complete disappointment.  They showed very clearly that he was nothing other than 100% human.  Not at all what Tyler had expected to find.  A year spent in the presence of aliens followed by a miraculous reintegration into human form and they hadn’t slipped anything out of the ordinary into the mix?  He found it hard to believe.  While the good doctor’s ability to tolerate abuse seemed to be above average it was hardly a fact worth celebrating.  If he had any special abilities beyond that he was keeping them well hidden. 

            Over the last few weeks Tyler had been harboring the suspicion that Daniel had returned to Earth as a mole.  Exactly what his goal was remained unclear, but it had to have something to do with the Lost City.  After all, that was all that mattered.  According to SG-1’s own reports they had discovered information that would lead them to the City and with that information a device capable of bestowing great power on whomever possessed it.  The alien version of Dr. Jackson had coaxed his former team into turning the device over to the goa’uld, but keeping the information about the City to themselves.  It was an act that allowed one of the distasteful aliens to finally gain enough power over the others to officially tip the balance, putting the entire galaxy in danger.  In fact, it had set in motion a series of events that had led to the total destruction of a planet that was rumored to be near and dear to Dr. Jackson, killing every person in it.  That kind of sacrifice wasn’t made without expecting something even more valuable in exchange.  Already it had paid off by conveniently turning the goa’uld’s attention away from finding the Lost City, their focus squarely on destroying each other even if only temporarily.  At the very least it was buying the SGC time to get a head start, but Tyler was certain Dr. Jackson had had more in mind than a simple diversion.  After all, that could have been bought with much less than the annihilation of an entire planet. 

            At first he had suspected that giving the device to the goa'uld had been with the intention of the creatures turning that power on Earth.  It had made Dr. Jackson look every inch the turncoat.  However when he returned to human form and to the planet before that event had happened it had left Tyler very puzzled.  Obviously Daniel had returned to Earth for a specific purpose; most likely a plan that had been put in motion long before he had returned to human form.  Tyler was just having a very difficult time speculating what that might be, or at least he had been. 

When the mission log had crossed his desk explaining that Dr. Jackson had been found alive and well on another planet he had gone over the other mission reports with a fine toothed comb.  During the middle of his third reading it had suddenly begun to make sense.  Dr. Jackson had turned the devastating device over to the goa'uld partly because he needed to buy time to find the City knowing that destroying each other would keep the goa'uld occupied for some time.  In that, he had been correct.  However, Tyler firmly believed he had also turned it over to them because he simply didn't care about the consequences.  They could do with it as they pleased.  It made little difference to him.  He was living comfortably among the ranks of what was reportedly a very powerful group of aliens and his life as a human had been left behind along with all the emotional ties that had gone with it.  It would seem that somewhere along the line Dr. Jackson had become quite cold hearted when it came to his former friends and acquaintances.  The fact that he had returned to Earth had nothing to do with any sort of affection for them.  He was merely pretending to be the man he had once been in order to get what he wanted.  He had purposely left the information about the City in the hands of the SGC knowing he could easily win his way back into their good graces without much effort and he had been right.  The claim of amnesia had made it far too easy.  There were no questions, no interrogations, no suspicion at his change in behavior.  As far as they were concerned he was a poor, helpless victim taken advantage of by the aliens and eventually cast from their midst.  After they had run the necessary tests to confirm he really was who he claimed to be life had gone quietly on and he was allowed to move freely among them.

It was a brilliant plan.  The only part Tyler couldn’t figure out was what he was waiting for.  Obviously there was a something he still needed to acquire in order to find the City before he made his move and the truth was revealed.  A missing piece somewhere.  If he were willing to be a bit more cooperative Tyler might have been able to help him locate it.  After all, he did have considerable influence and quite a few resources at his disposal.  Unfortunately Dr. Jackson didn’t seem to be in the mood to share the information or the glory. 

Tyler had kept him in the chair for nearly two hours, the device shocking him repeatedly and still he had continued to claim ignorance.  In fact, he had refused to reveal much of anything other than the fact that he hadn’t really been dead all this time, merely living in another plane of existence.  Hardly new information.  He was stubbornly tight lipped about his knowledge of the Ancients and the City, completely unwilling to give him any information at all right up to the point where he had finally lost consciousness, all the while insisting he knew nothing.

Tyler glanced over at the security monitor’s image of the body deposited haphazardly on the cot in the holding cell several floors below and scowled in frustration.  Stilman had informed him that Dr. Jackson would most likely be unconscious for the remainder of the day meaning any plans for another interrogation would have to wait until the next morning.  He had also recommended a physical examination to make sure his injuries weren’t life threatening, but Tyler was in no mood to coddle the archaeologist.  He wanted answers and he wanted them now.  Jackson's collapse had infuriated him no end and the man being ill or in pain would only serve his purpose during the next round. 

It was only a matter of time before Hammond started making things difficult, prodding people into asking questions, demanding some kind of report on Dr. Jackson’s progress.  At the rate things were going his estimated 48-hour window would elapse and he would have nothing to show for it.  Certainly nothing worth the risk he had taken to get it. The second phase of the plan was about to begin and he remained empty-handed.  While his new plan did away with the need to eventually turn Dr. Jackson back over to the SGC he did not have all the time in the world to acquire what he wanted.  Leaks happened.  People talked.  Some because they couldn't help bragging and some because they discovered, despite the promised rewards, they didn't really have the stomach for the job.  Tyler wasn't foolish enough to think his secret would be safe forever.  Someone would find out and he needed to be ready to pack up and move out when that happened. Jackson was stalling and the clock was ticking.  The notion had Tyler pounding his fist on his desk in aggravation. 

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel woke slowly, reluctantly inching his way toward consciousness.  He hurt.  Lying on what felt like his cot he started taking inventory of his injuries, but soon abandoned the attempt seeing no reason to single out the specific parts of him that where complaining.  There were simply too many.  Attempting to roll over in the hopes of finding a more comfortable position he groaned into his pillow, the slight movement making the few parts of him that had been silent register aches and pains of their own.

Something had happened, something that felt like he had been beaten with a baseball bat, but he couldn’t quite remember what.  Slowly Daniel opened his eyes, the vision of the sparsely decorated holding cell swimming into view as he blinked and squinted to clear away a measure of the blur.  Partly due to the stabbing pain the light inspired in his already aching head, but mostly because there was nothing worth looking at, he let his eyes slide closed again and continued his attempt to piece things together. 

The previous few hours came back to him in a trickle of details that ended with Tyler’s grimace of frustration as the machine had shocked Daniel yet again.  He could only assume he had blacked out a short time later because the rest was a total blank.  He did remember very vividly, however, that Tyler’s torture had gone on for what seemed like a week, hurling questions at him over and over again.  At first Daniel had giving him nothing, little tidbits of information he was fairly certain Tyler already had, then the questions had turned to requests for information about his ascension. 

The Colonel had said the detector worked on the same premise as the Tok’ra version, just without the deadly effects.  However, he clearly remembered the machine shocking him when he plainly told Tyler he didn’t remember anything.  It hadn’t been a lie.  He really didn’t remember anything yet the device had shocked him anyway.  Repeatedly, in fact.  Eyes still closed Daniel mulled the concept over as his head began to clear.  Either Tyler could control when the machine shocked him and when it didn’t or it had been altered to detect more than just deception.  For instance, if he had set it to pick up on willful defiance or murderous hostility then it was no wonder the thing had kept going off.  Even during the brief pause between questions he’d been broadcasting that attitude loud and clear. 

He supposed it was possible he really was harboring information in the deep recesses of his brain and the machine was detecting it.  Of course, if that was the case he was in serious trouble because he had no idea how to access the knowledge even if he wanted to.  One way or another, as long as the machine continued to shock him Tyler would think he was hiding something, which meant the interrogations could go on for a very long time.

A sudden pounding at his cell door jolted Daniel from his thoughts and he flinched, but kept his eyes closed.  The thought that it was guards coming to take him back for another session made his stomach turn.  He didn’t think he could take another round of high voltage 20 questions.  Doing his best to keep his breathing slow and shallow mimicking sleep despite his pounding heart, he listened as the door opened and a pair of boots clomped across the floor.

“Watch your back.” He heard a voice say in a highly suspicious tone.

“Calm down, he’s still dead to the world.” A second voice said with mild impatience.

“Maybe he’s faking it.”

“Word is Tyler hit him with enough juice to make electroshock therapy feel like a 9 volt battery.  He’ll be out for a while.”

“Should we see if he’s dead?”

“When was the last time you saw a dead man breathing?  Come on, let’s get out of here.”

“What’s the hurry?  Why don’t we mess with him a bit first?  You know, have some fun.”

“And have it all caught on tape?  See the video camera?  Don’t be an idiot.  Get out of my way.”

“You gonna make me?”

“Oh, give me a break, I could take you with one hand tied behind my back and you know it.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

The voices were muffled by the closing door and eventually faded altogether as the two men continued down the hall.  Daniel waited several more minutes before opening his eyes, the smell of food finally getting the better of him.  Glancing across the room he spotted the tray sitting on the table.  It was only commissary cuisine, not usually worth getting excited about, but he was several shades past starving.  Slowly Daniel eased himself into a sitting position, every part of him crying out in protest, his stomach cheering him on.  However, as he grazed his arm across the rough wool blanket on the cot even his stomach took a back seat to the vicious stab of pain that shot through him.  With a yelp Daniel snatched his arm away from the bed and found himself looking at an angry red patch on the underside of his forearm just above his wrist.  One that looked almost exactly like a near blistering burn.  Upon further inspection he found an identical mark on his other arm.  For a moment he was puzzled until he remembered the restraints on the chair that had acted as electrodes delivering the bursts of electricity.  Not at all surprisingly he found the same wounds on both legs part way up each calf.

His concern faded along with the pain as his stomach reminded him of the reason he had been trying to get out of bed in the first place.  Getting to his feet with more than a little effort, he stiffly shuffled the short distance to the table and eased himself into the chair, barely settling into it before picking up the plastic fork with a trembling hand and eagerly shoveling food into his mouth.  His mind continued to clear and a measure of his strength returned with each bite.  When he had swallowed the last bit of food Daniel looked at the empty tray in disappointment, still mildly hungry.  He drained the water from the bottle they had given him and pushed the tray away forcing himself to focus on something besides his stomach.

It was now startlingly clear just how badly he had underestimated Tyler.  Never during the discussion with Hammond or even the forced flight to Nevada had he imagined the man would resort to this level of torture to get the information he wanted.   Drugs, sure.  Threats, without a doubt.  A few bruises were to be expected, but electrocution?  There was no telling what other modified alien technology he was planning to use and the realization that apparently he had no limits had Daniel officially scared.  He would have taken the opportunity to rethink his plan of keeping the information about his ascension to himself except for the fact that apparently he had no choice.  The memories simply weren't there.  Unfortunately Tyler didn’t seem to believe him and a cold chill crawled up his spin when he realized there might not be any way to convince him.  Most likely his only real chance to survive was going to be escape.

Speaking of which, where the hell was Jack?  Daniel clung firmly to the thought of his friend.  Hammond had to have figured out by now that he had never made it to see McKenzie.  That meant they were most likely looking for him already and he doubted it would take long to figure where he was.  A rescue, however, was going to be difficult.  Not impossible, but difficult.  Whether or not Jack could come up with a plan wasn’t the question.  Of course he could.  That’s what he did.  Daniel’s concern as he strained to hear any sign of boots in the hall outside was whether he could do it before it was too late.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>    <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Janet knocked on Hammond’s office door with a piece of paper in her hand and a determined scowl on her face.  “I think you should see this, Sir.” She said, striding into the room as soon as his head came up.

            “What is it?” he asked as she handed it over.

            “It’s an update on Daniel’s condition.” She said with a sarcastic tone. “It says he’s showing signs of clinical depression and is still on suicide watch.”

            “And sedatives it looks like.”

            “’As needed’.” She quoted with a disbelieving shake of her head.

            “I take it you have a problem with this.” Hammond stated rather than asked, looking up at her.

            “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

            “Granted.”

            “I think Tyler is making this whole thing up, buying time by pretending to be treating Daniel for depression."  She answered. “I’ve known Daniel as long as you have, Sir and he’s never shown any tendency toward clinical depression.”

“Could his return from being ascended have triggered something?”

“I find it very doubtful, Sir.  His blood work since his return has been consistent with his results before, nothing to indicate a chemical imbalance capable of producing these type of symptoms.”

“But isn’t depression just a reaction to a situation?” Hammond asked.

“Normal depression, yes, but to qualify as clinical depression it requires an imbalance of the hormones in the body.  Something Daniel doesn’t have.”

“So then he’s been misdiagnosed?” Hammond asked.

“I think he’s being held against his will and Tyler is using this story to cover it.”

“Can you prove it?” he asked, not even a hint of disbelief in his tone.

“The argument against clinical depression…absolutely.  That Tyler kidnapped him?  No, Sir, not without actually talking to Daniel.”

“I’m afraid that’s going to be hard to do.”

“Yes, Sir.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>    <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            It was long after dawn the next morning when Daniel sat anxiously in the chair he had come to dread, scowling at Tyler as the Colonel paced back and forth on the far side of the room.  He didn’t know what the man was up to, but the fact they had yet to strap him in the chair gave him hope that maybe he’d get out of this particular session unscathed.  Of course, deep down he didn’t really believe it. 

            “It would seem,” Tyler said, hands clasped behind his back as he finally focused his attention on Daniel “that we have gotten off to a bad start, you and I.  Perhaps I didn't explain the situation properly.  I have to admit," he added, stepping closer to the chair “I thought you would have come to your senses by now, but apparently I was wrong.  Still, a bit of enlightenment might change your mind.” 

Daniel stared silently back at him waiting for the truth behind Tyler’s pleasant and reasonable façade to present itself.

“I intend to find out what you know about the Ancients and the Lost City.  No amount of stalling, lying or any other sort of deception is going to change the fact that in the end I will know everything you know.  Now, you can continue to force me to use drastic measures to get what I want.  After all, that is your prerogative, but I must tell you, it won’t work.

“I know what you’re thinking, Dr. Jackson.” He continued, his tone softening. “You’re hoping that if you hold out long enough your friends at the SGC will save you.  You see that’s where I’m afraid a lack of information on your part has caused some confusion.  So in the interest of clearing up any misconceptions about exactly where you stand, please allow me to bring you up to speed.” He offered, returning to his pacing, hands once again behind his back.  “As of 0700 this morning your Dr. Frasier was informed that you have been diagnosed with clinical depression and have been placed under constant guard to prevent you from taking your own life, being sedated when your behavior deems it necessary and that sort of thing.”  Daniel’s scowl deepened.

            “By 1500 this afternoon she will receive another communication informing her of your very tragic suicide.  I will, of course, take full responsibility for the ineptitude of your guards.  Shortly thereafter your body will be returned to the SGC where I’m certain they will have a lovely memorial service of some kind in your honor…yet again.  I can have this one filmed, if you’d like.” He offered. 

Daniel stared back at him in confusion, certain there was something Tyler had left out because so far the story made no sense.  If they were planning to kill him why bother with the speech?  How would knowing he was already a dead man make him want to cooperate?

            “However, I don’t want you to needlessly worry.” Tyler continued. “You may rest assured, my dear Doctor Jackson I am not really going to kill you.  At least not this afternoon.  You see, while the SGC is busy mourning your death and getting on with their lives you will be here, in my custody, very much alive and if the last few days is any indication, most likely in considerable pain.” Tyler explained, concluding his latest round of pacing at Daniel’s side. “And you will remain in my custody until you tell me what I want to know…or until such time as I decide you are no longer of any value.” Tyler leaned into Daniel’s face, glaring at him.

            “They’re going to know it’s not me.” Daniel replied, glaring back. “Dr. Frasier will do an autopsy on the body.”

            “Do you think I’m an idiot, Dr. Jackson?” Tyler sneered. “Do I strike you as being a brainless simp?  There won’t be enough left of the body I send back for your Dr. Frasier’s autopsy to confirm anything other than the fact that it was human.”

Daniel swallowed, covering the rivulets of fear that raced through him by intensifying his glare.  The last thing he wanted was for Tyler to know he was getting to him.

            “I will give you until 1400 hours to decide whether you want to tell me what you know and spare your friends yet another funeral in your honor or return to this chair and force me to pry it out of you.”  Tyler dropped his gaze from Daniel’s face to the circular red patch on his arm. “I don’t expect those wounds will have healed much by then.” He said. “Even the pressure of the restrains will be quite painful.”  As if to prove the statement Tyler reached out and clamped his hand down on Daniel’s wrist, Daniel grimacing, but swallowing his protest.

“Of course, that will be a very minor discomfort compared to the sensation of electricity searing already burned flesh.” With one swift motion Tyler twisted his hand against Daniel’s arm, the friction heating his wounded skin ever so slightly, but still enough to have Daniel grinding his teeth, jaw clenched tightly enough to make it ache.

“Quite painful indeed.” Tyler said releasing his grip. “Imagine experiencing that over and over again…each time worse than the last as the burns continue to blister and multiply one on top of the other.” He whispered into Daniel’s ear before straightening and stepping away from the chair. “Yet one more thing to consider.” He added cheerfully as he strode out of the room.

Daniel’s arm howled at him as he did his own pacing back in his cell.  The thought of another session in the chair made his stomach turn and his pulse race.  But it was the thought of his team, his friends being told he was dead…again…that tore at him.  It would hurt them all over again, reopening wounds left from his last demise, ones he could still see even after having been "dead" for a year.  This time they would be hurting for no reason because while they were mourning he would still be alive in Nevada, the prisoner of a madman.  Unfortunately it was a situation he didn't think he could get himself out of.  Tyler wanted information he simply didn't have.  Unless Daniel could supply him with a gate address to Oma's nonexistent home world or the location of the Lost City Tyler was going to go ahead with his plan.  Even if he'd had the information he wouldn't give it to him.  Putting the power of the Ancients in the hands of the NID was a fate almost as horrific as giving it to the goa’uld.  No one would be safe, certainly not the inhabitants of Earth. 

One way or another the end result would be the same.  Tyler was not going to get what he wanted and would eventually come to the conclusion that torturing him was a waste of time.  When that happened Daniel didn’t know what Tyler would try next, but was certain it wouldn’t be pleasant. Thankfully brain surgery wouldn’t give him access to his memories or Tyler most likely would have tried it already.

“Come on, Jack,” he whispered to himself, the fear of what was to come closing in on him. “Don’t let me down.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            “Any word yet on Daniel?” Jack asked, striding purposefully into Hammond’s office later that afternoon.

            “Nothing new, Colonel, I’m sorry.”

            “Me too.” He said, immediately turning and heading for the door.

            “Jack.” Hammond stopped him with a word. “I don’t know what you’re planning and I don’t want to know.”  Jack stopped and turned to look at him. “But, please, be careful.  They’ll shoot long before they ask questions.”

            “I’m aware of that, Sir.” He said quietly.

            “God speed.” Hammond added before Jack waved acknowledgement and headed out of the room.

            The look on Hammond’s face had communicated quite clearly that he had wanted to say more, but there was nothing to say.  Jack was on his own and they both knew it, Hammond’s hands securely tied.  The General had been calling the President almost hourly for over a day and was still being stonewalled.  No one else was willing or able to step in and defy a Presidential Order without documented proof that something was amiss and probably not even then.  Jack, however, didn’t need permission to do what had to be done.  Daniel’s life was at stake and he’d be damned if he was going to stand idly by and let a bunch of politicians decide his friend’s fate.

            The NID wanted to lay claim to Daniel and dissect him like a frog in high school biology class, as if he had ceased to be an American citizen, let alone a human being, the day he had been listed MIA.  Jack knew the way their twisted minds worked.  As a former prisoner of the enemy Daniel was now suspect.  A walking, talking Trojan horse waiting to make his move.  Such suspicion came with the territory.  When operating on the front lines you couldn't be too careful.  As much as Jack hated to admit it, the SGC had been wary of the same thing…right up until about thirty seconds after Janet had finished her examination and declared him wholly human and wholly Daniel.  The NID, however, possessed a paranoid streak that defied all logic.  To them Janet's tests were meaningless.  As far as they were concerned only abuse and harassment would prove Daniel to be friend or foe.  They were currently operating under the mistaken impression that they had the right to hold him hostage until their own methods cleared his name.  Jack intended to set them straight even if he had to openly defy a Presidential Order to do it. 

            His hand picked team was ready, waiting for his signal that all reasonable means to resolve the problem had been exhausted.  Hand picked with the exception of one member.  He had never intended to involve Carter.  Her knowledge, her brain, was far too valuable to the SGC to let her throw away her career and spend the rest of her life rotting in a federal prison.  He had told her as much when she had first attempted to elbow her way onto the team, but she had been determined.  The Area 51 facility was a mess of computers, codes and passwords.  They were going to need more than firepower to get to Daniel and she was the only one even remotely qualified to handle it.  He’d hated the fact that she had been right and had argued strenuously against it, even going as far as attempting to order her out of the room before finally admitting it.  He still hated it, but it was too late to change his mind now.  She was waiting along with the rest of them, attempting to go about her business as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening until she heard from him that the mission was a go. 

            Closing himself in the VIP room he had temporarily commandeered, Jack lifted the phone to his ear and dialed the first of a handful of extensions to deliver a simple message that would put a very complicated plan into action.

            “Go for launch.” He said simply.

            “Understood.” Came the reply before both ends hung up.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Once again Daniel woke face down on his cot, having been draped haphazardly across it, half his limbs hanging over the side.  Not bothering to search his clouded mind for details he let himself drift in the fissure between consciousness and oblivion, floating, trying to keep out of reach of the pain that waited.  Already he could feel it clawing at him, dragging him into reality, insisting he do something about it.  However, there was nothing to be done.  If the last encounter was anything to go by Tyler wouldn’t bother to offer him any kind of medical attention.  He would just leave him to suffer and use the injuries to his advantage the next time.

            The idea that there would most likely be a next time settled over Daniel, forcing its way through the haze bringing him fully awake seconds before his stomach lurched.  Instinctually gripping the bed, he yelped in pain, his burned wrists protesting even as he left a puddle of bile on the floor on the far side of his cot.  Collapsing back on the bed, he panted, silent tears flowing across his face as he did his best not to dissolve into pitiful groaning at the aching of his abused body. 

            Tyler had left him to sit and contemplate his fate for the better part of the afternoon before the guards came to once again drag him to the interrogation room.  He had, of course, refused to volunteer any information and Tyler had once again laid into him, but this time with a viciousness and lack of restraint that had been missing from the first encounter.  Daniel hadn’t given anything up mostly because he didn’t have the answers, but he didn’t know how much more he could stand.  By now the unrecognizable remains of a body labeled with his name had been delivered to the SGC and any plans Jack or anyone else had of rescuing him had most likely been abandoned.  Hammond would demand answers, pestering Tyler for information, never suspecting that Daniel was still in his custody, very much alive.  At least for the time being.

            Daniel’s head was shrieking almost as loudly as his burned arms and ankles, his entire body ached and his chest felt tight making it hard to breathe.  If he was lucky the next time Tyler hooked him up to that infernal machine he would have a heart attack with the first jolt and the whole thing would be over.  Maybe he was having a heart attack at that very moment, he just couldn’t differentiate the pain of heart failure from every other pain.  The thought was mildly comforting as he slowly and carefully rolled onto his side in an effort to find a more comfortable position.  When it didn’t work he gave up and attempted to slide back into unconsciousness seeing no reason to remain awake.

            The sound of the door to his cell opening made Daniel cringe.  They couldn’t be coming for him again already.  He had no idea how much time had passed, but it wouldn’t take more than a glance through the camera in the ceiling to see putting him back in the chair would be useless.  Please, please let them see that.

            A hand on his arm had him weakly protesting, attempting to yank it out of the unidentified person's grasp.

            “Calm down, Dr. Jackson, I’m only here to examine you.” A nearly impatient voice stated. 

Daniel pried his eyes open and looked over his shoulder in search of a face, the Captain from the infirmary going in and out of focus beside him. Lowering his head back to the cot, Daniel closed his eyes again and focused on keeping himself from falling apart.  If Tyler managed to break him it was all over and he was, unfortunately, a little too close to doing exactly that, the mere presence of the annoying soldier nearly inspiring a fresh onslaught of tears.  Something pressed against his back and Daniel twitched involuntarily.

            “Just breathe normally.” The Captain instructed, Daniel not bothering to answer as he tried to figure out the reason behind Tyler sending the man to look after him in the first place.  What was the point of treating his wounds if he was only going to inflict more? His only conclusion was Tyler didn’t actually want to kill him until he’d gotten what he wanted and he wasn't any closer now than he had been when he'd started.

            “Let me see your arm.” The Captain stated without emotion, pulling Daniel’s arm away from his body and inspecting the wound on his wrist. “Probably should bandage this.” The man muttered to himself.  “Let’s see the other one.”

            Daniel carefully and very slowly rolled over, wincing as he moved, allowing the Captain to inspect his other wrist and eventually his ankles.

            “All of these need to be taken care of.” The man sighed. “Looks like at least second degree burns.  How do you feel?” he asked, his voice void of even the smallest measure of concern.

            “Peachy.” Daniel mumbled.

            “Aside from the burns you seem healthy enough.” The Captain concluded. “Maybe a little dehydrated.  Try drinking more water.”

            “Yeah, I’ll do that.” Daniel replied, rolling back over and turning his back to the Captain.

            “I’ll need to get permission from Colonel Tyler to treat your wounds.” He stated, getting up from the cot. “If he agrees I’ll be back later.”

            “Fine.  See ya.” Daniel muttered not expecting to see the man again as he heard him leave the room

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Jack’s cell phone chirped from the dashboard of the SUV he had rented.  He stared at it for a moment as he continued to drive, his hand picked team settled in the seats behind him.  The mission was underway and there was no turning back, still curiosity managed to get the better of him.

            “O’Neill.” He said, finally snatching the phone up on the fourth ring.

            “Where are you?” the voice on the other end asked.

            “I’d rather not say, Sir.” Jack replied, the other members of his team instantly tense at the realization of who was most likely on the other end.

            “We need to talk, Colonel.  Pull over.”

            “It’s a little late for that, Sir.”

            “Jack…pull over.”

            With a sigh and a scowl wrinkling his face, Jack pulled over to the side of the road and put the vehicle in park. “OK, I’m pulled over.  What?”

            “We received word a few minutes ago.” Hammond explained, his voice heavy. “Dr. Jackson is apparently dead.”

            “What?!” A cold chill crawling over Jack’s skin.

            “The report said it was suicide.  His body is on the way back to the SGC.  I’m sorry, Colonel.”

            “No.  No, I’m not buying it.  Tyler is just playing games.”

            “Maybe so, but we won’t know until we have a chance to examine the body.  Until then it would appear there is no reason to assume Dr. Jackson is still at Nellis.”

            “That’s exactly what he wants us to think.”

            “Colonel, there’s no point in making trouble for yourself.  Not until we have a chance to sort this out.  I expect all of you to report back to the SGC within the hour.”  His command meeting with silence as Jack ground his teeth. “Colonel, that’s an order.  Don’t make me send someone after you.”

            “Yes, Sir.  Within the hour.” Jack snarled through clenched teeth before hurling the phone across the car, hard enough to break it into several pieces.

            “Sir?” Sam asked from the backseat.

            “What’s up, Jack?” Colonel Newsome asked, when Sam’s question was met with brooding silence.

            “Daniel’s dead.  We’ve been called back to base.” He stated darkly, grabbing the wheel, hitting the gas and turning around in a spray of gravel.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>    <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Janet Frasier walked through the halls, heels clicking on the concrete floor, shoulders sagging.  For the past hour and a half she had been hunched over the remains that had been returned to them from Area 51 trying desperately to prove they weren’t those of Daniel Jackson.  It had been a difficult task considering the condition the body was in.  Half the teeth were missing, supposedly from a sidearm that had been held firmly in them when it had been fired.  The rest of the body had been burned beyond recognition in what the report said had been an explosion from an oxygen tank in the infirmary where Daniel had supposedly holed himself up to commit the act.  Apparently the bullet had left his body, traveled across the room and struck the tank.  The exit wound proved the bullet had indeed left the body, but the rest of the story seemed far too convenient.  Unfortunately in order to prove the whole thing was a ruse she needed conclusive evidence that the body wasn't Daniel and so far she hadn't been able to find it.  All she could tell for certain was it had belonged to that of a human male.  It was far from compelling evidence in either direction.

            Pushing the call button for the elevator, she braced herself for the reaction to the news she was going to have to deliver to a room full of very upset people.  Being heartsick herself wasn’t going to make it any easier.

            “What are you saying?” Jack demanded when she told them what little she knew.

            “It is possible the body belongs to Dr. Jackson, but at the moment I don’t have much proof one way or the other.” Janet sighed.

            “So we’re going to have to take Tyler’s word for the fact that he’s dead?  That’s unacceptable.”

            “Colonel there wasn’t enough left of the body to make a positive ID.” She explained, struggling to control her emotions.

            “So it could be him.” Sam said looking just as stunned as the rest of them.

            “It’s possible.”

            “I’m not buying it.” Jack stated, pounding his fist on the table. “I don’t believe for one second that Daniel willingly put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.  If anything someone pulled it for him.”

            “Neither do I,” Janet agreed "but I think we have to at least acknowledge the possibility.  Tyler's reports said they were giving him drugs for depression.  If not properly monitored those type of drugs can actually increase suicidal thoughts rather than decreasing them."

“Whether or not it was actually suicide is not the point.” Hammond interrupted. “We need to know if that really is Dr. Jackson and if not then we need to find out exactly where the hell he is.  If it is then I'm afraid this just became a closed case.”

“General?” Jack challenged.

“If we can’t prove the body is not Dr. Jackson then I have nowhere to go with this, Colonel.  Tyler has the documentation to back up his story and whether we believe it or not,” he added, holding up a hand to stall several people’s comments “I can’t request an investigation based on what we have at this point.”

            “So we just take it?” Jack groused.

            "I can file a complaint against Colonel Tyler based on his actions, something I fully intend to do, but that's as far as I can go."

“We do have one more option.” Janet said, all eyes suddenly on her. “I’m attempting to extract enough DNA from the body to run a comparison against what we have on file.” Janet offered. “These kinds of tests take time, but we should have more conclusive results in a few days.”

            “I’ll give you 24 hours.” Hammond stated, grabbing onto the idea.

            “I’m sorry, Sir, but we have to send these to an outside lab.  I can’t demand results that quickly and expect to get them.”

            “Do what you can, Doctor.” Hammond sighed.

            “Yes, Sir.”

            “SG-1, you are on stand down until further notice.” Hammond added. “But I expect each of you to check in daily.  Is that understood?” the General said, looking directly at Jack.

            “Understood.” He muttered.

            “Dismissed.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            The sound of boots in the hall outside woke Daniel instantly, eyes open in the darkness of the room, his heart pounding.  Tyler had left him alone for the remainder of the day and into the night, Daniel growing more anxious with each passing hour, knowing it was only a matter of time before the guards came for him again.  A quick glance at his watch told him it was barely after 03:00.  Apparently Tyler had decided to give up sleep in his quest for information.

            The door opened a moment later and the lights came on, Daniel blinking at the sudden illumination.

            “On your feet.” One of the guards barked, Daniel slowly pushing himself into a sitting position before one of them strode to his cot, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him roughly to his feet.

            They had fed him dinner that night, which included an extra bottle of water.  Apparently someone had paid attention to the Captain’s report, but as Daniel had suspected, the man was never sent back to bandage his wounds.  However, despite the food and a few extra hours of rest he was still tired and sluggish, his limbs heavy, his breathing slightly labored.  Without even so much as aspirin for the pain most of him still ached, his stomach lurching at the thought of where they were taking him.

            Swallowing convulsively, Daniel let them almost literally drag him down the hall, his legs unable to keep up with the guards’ determined pace.  To his relief and confusion instead of taking him to the sublevel of doom the elevator took them to the main floor of the building, one he hadn’t seen since they had brought him to the facility.  Not bothering to ask questions, he shuffled along as best he could while they hustled him down the hall and outside into the night.  A dark SUV was waiting just outside the door, Daniel barely having time to glance up at the night sky before being stuffed into the backseat and the door closed behind him.

            “Where are you taking me?” he asked Tyler who was not surprisingly glaring at him from the front seat.

            “None of your business.” He snapped. “Are you going to behave yourself or do I have to sedate you?”

            “I’m not going anywhere.” He glared back at Tyler realizing that while the opportunity for escape may have just present itself he didn’t have the strength to do much about it.

            “Wising up, I see.” Tyler commented, before turning to the driver. “Go.”

            They pulled away from the building passing through several checkpoints before finally making it out through Nellis’ main gate.  Picking up speed they raced across the desert, Daniel staring out the tinted window, but was unable to make out anything besides shadows and the outline of the mountains in the distance.  Wherever they were going there would be no way for him to find his way back and perhaps that was the point of them making the trip in the dead of night.  Or at least one of them.

            Sometime during the journey Daniel dozed off and was shaken none too gently awake again when they had reached their destination, his head hitting the side window.

            “Get up.” The guard beside him ordered a split second before the door was yanked open and he was hauled out this time inside a well lit concrete enclosure that closely resembled the main entrance to Cheyenne Mountain. 

Despite the similarities he was relatively certain that wasn’t where Tyler had brought him.

“Take him down to the holding cells.  Make sure he doesn’t try anything.” Tyler ordered, the guard shoving Daniel roughly toward a door another soldier was holding open. 

Daniel tried to inconspicuously study the place as they hustled him along, but found nothing that told him where they were.  The elevator ride down several floors indicated that it was yet another underground facility, but there were no signs on the walls or markings on the doors other than simple numbers.  All he was able to discern was that the place appeared to be deserted.  According to his watch it was just after 06:00 and usually by that time the SGC was jumping, people milling around still half asleep, but having already reported for duty.  Either this facility worked only limited hours or it wasn’t fully operational.  Daniel began wracking his brain for information on military installations that fit that description, but admittedly, he had never spent much time cataloging military sites.  All he knew was judging by the time it had taken them to get there they were most likely still in Nevada or just barely over the border into California.  At least that narrowed it down.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>    <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            “Are you sure?” Sam asked, gripping the phone with both hands. “Thanks.  I owe you one.” She said, slamming it down on the receiver and dashing out of her lab.

            It had been two days since they had received word that Daniel was dead.  Two days of not believing a word of it, but unable to prove their suspicions.  Two very long days of wondering what was happening to Daniel.  Janet had not received the DNA results back yet, though they were expected any minute and O’Neill’s mood had grown darker with each passing hour.  He spoke little and when he did it was usually in a tone of voice that promised dire consequences to anyone who dared to challenge him.  Needless to say they were all giving him plenty of room.

            “Sir.” She said, finally finding him in the control room hovering over a very anxious looking technician at the keyboard. "I'm glad I found you."

            “What is it, Carter.” he snapped without bothering to look at her, his usual sarcasm replaced with impatience.

            “I have something I think you’ll want to hear.  Can we talk?”

            Jack finally turned his attention to her staring at her silently for a long moment before turning toward the stairs and heading for the relative privacy of the briefing room.

“What is it?” he groused as they appeared on the upper level. 

            “I just got a call from Sergeant…from my contact at Nellis.” She said, deciding at the last minute that protecting her source was probably in order.

            “And?”

            “And he says he has a witness that saw someone being escorted out of Delta Building at Nellis and into a van.”

            “’A witness’?” Jack repeated, eyeing her suspiciously.

            “A buddy of his.”

            “And…?”

            “And he thinks it was Daniel.”

            “’He thinks’.” Jack repeated, his mood unchanged.

            “The witness was almost positive.”

            “Rumors and speculation aren’t proof, Major.  Why exactly should we believe this particular friend of a friend?”

            “Because it happened at 03:00 hours, Sir, and my contact is certain enough of the ID to risk calling here to tell me.”

            “When?” Jack asked, a measure of the skepticism leaving his voice.

            “Yesterday morning.”

            “Have you told Hammond?”

            “Net yet, Sir.”

            Without another word he turned and strode determinedly across the room toward Hammond's office.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>  <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel sat in the corner, elbows on his knees and head in his hands staring at the concrete floor.  He had known the minute he’d seen his new accommodations that the rules had changed, he just wasn’t sure how much.  His cell was completely empty: no bed, no table, nothing, but a camera mounted high up on the wall, the one he was currently sitting directly under in an attempt to stay out of view. 

            He had assumed it was only a temporary holding cell until he could be moved somewhere else, but after six hours he was beginning to wonder if maybe that was wishful thinking.  It occurred to him as he sighed heavily to himself that it could be Tyler’s new form of manipulation.  No food, no water and nothing, but the hard floor to sleep on until he cooperated.  It was obvious he wasn’t going to get any rest stretched out on the concrete and his growing hunger and thirst were only making him that much more miserable.  His body ached, his stomach was grumbling up at him, his throat was dry and his butt was asleep.  Obviously the change in location hadn’t been for the better.  

            He had barely managed to doze off, head rested on his arms when the door to his cell opened with a bang startling him awake again.

            “On your feet.” A less than pleasant looking guard ordered.

            “What’s going on?” he asked.

            “You’ll find out soon enough now move!” the man demanded punting Daniel in the hip with his boot hard enough for Daniel to feel the imprint on his leg for several minutes, obviously meant as a warning of things to come if he kept stalling.

            Daniel tried to get up, but after so long on the floor he was stiff, his legs slow to respond.  The second guard solved the problem by grabbing him by the shirt and hauling him to his feet. 

            “Yeah, thanks, that helps.” Daniel groused.

After so many days of being treated like the prisoner he was it was starting to wear on his nerves.  He might not have known the name or even exact location of his new home, but Daniel had a good idea where the guards were taking him and what would be waiting when he got there.  Tyler would ask more questions he couldn’t answer and no matter what he said they would fry him with electricity until he finally passed out.  With the decoy body already sent to the SGC it was obvious no matter what he said Tyler had no intention of ever letting him go, at least not alive and able to report what had happened.  They would milk him of every last drop of useful information and then either kill him or dump him out in the desert to die.  Trudging along between the guards who seemed even more temperamental than the men at Nellis he decided there was no point in stoically putting up with being tortured.  It was time to take a few pages from the Jack O’Neill handbook of how to deal with narcissistic sadists.

            “Have a seat, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler said when Daniel was shoved into the room to find a very similar version of the dreaded chair, this time the torturous machine noticeably missing.

            “I think I’ll stand.” He replied stubbornly.

            “Put him in the chair.” Tyler sighed. “All this time and you haven’t learned a damn thing have you?”

            “Oh I’ve learned plenty.” Daniel replied through clenched teeth as the men grabbed him and stuffed him forcibly into the chair, growling in pain as they strapped his arms down.

            “I guess we’re about to find out.” Tyler said, waving the men away from him. “I want you to listen to me very carefully, Dr. Jackson because I’m only going to say this once.” He said, leaning into Daniel’s face. “This is your last chance to tell me what I want to know.  Up to now I’ve been willing to put up with your little games, but let me assure you, my patience has run out.”

            Tyler nodded to the man who had been standing silently in the corner to that point and stepped aside allowing him access to Daniel.  Daniel watched as the Captain from the Nellis infirmary strode forward, syringe in his hand and the same impatient expression on his face.

            “What is that?” Daniel demanded.

            “Still not paying attention, are we.” Tyler shook his head. “As I told you, 'that' is your last chance.  You can either give me the information I want or you’ll leave me no choice, but to take it from you.”

            “I’ve already told you everything I know.” Daniel said, squirming in his restraints, eyes locked on the syringe as one of the guards wrestled a tourniquet onto his upper arm.

            “I don’t think you have.”

            “Don’t!”

            “You brought this on yourself.”

            “I said don’t!” Daniel repeated grinding his teeth together as the Captain sunk the needle into a bulging vein on his forearm and pushed the plunger forcing the clear liquid into his bloodstream.

            Daniel grimaced as the chemical burned its way up his arm, spreading itself through his body.  Almost immediately his head began to swim, his vision blurring slightly as every muscle in his body went limp.  He barely registered the sensation of the Captain holding a stethoscope to his chest and pressing fingers against his neck to check his pulse.

            “Comfortable?” Tyler asked pleasantly to which Daniel merely snorted. “Good.  Now, tell me where I can find the ones you call the Ancients.”

            “Don’t call us, we’ll call you.” Daniel smirked, his head dipping as he found it increasingly difficult to hold it up.

            “What is the gate address to their home world?”

            “They don’t have one.” He sneered.

            “Tell me how to find the Lost City.” Tyler demanded, his voice taking on a definite edge of impatience.

            “Second star to the right…and straight on ‘til morning.” Daniel snickered to himself as he drooled down his chin.

            “Damn it, tell me!” Tyler demanded, grabbing him by the shirt and shaking him.

            “It’s all there.” Daniel sighed. “You just have to see it.”

            “It’s where?”

            “Lightening flashes, sparks shower, in the blink of an eye you have miss-seen.” Daniel said smiling warmly. “Never really got that until now.” He shook his head weakly. "I guess Zen works better when you're high."

            “This is pointless.” Tyler decried, shoving Daniel back in the chair and turning his venom on the Captain. “How much did you give him?”

            “A little less than the recommended dosage.” He said confidently.

            “You’re wasting my time, Jackson, and you’re wasting your last chance now tell me!” Tyler snarled turning his attention back to Daniel. “Where is the damn City?!”

            The amused smirk slid from Daniel’s face replaced with a scowl, his attention suddenly focused on Tyler.

            “The Lost City…” Daniel repeated, Tyler stepping closer eagerly “is still lost.”

            “I’m aware of that.”

            “We need to find it.”

            “Yes and you’re going to help me do that, aren’t you.” He said, his tone suddenly solicitous.

            “I’m going to…I’m go…” Daniel stated suddenly lurching forward in his chair, the meager contents of his long empty stomach spewing from his mouth, barely missing Tyler.

            “Shit.” Tyler jumped back from him, his face screwed up in a distasteful grimace. “Perfect, just perfect.”

            “I think we’re done here, Colonel.” The Captain sighed watching as Daniel tried to wipe at his face with hands that were still strapped to the arm rests, finally giving up and settling back in the chair.

            “We’re not done until I say we’re done.” Tyler glared back at him, stopping him in mid stride.

            “You know where the City is don’t you, Dr. Jackson.” Tyler stated calmly, keeping his distance.

            “I, um, I don’t think so.”

            “Of course you do, you told Colonel O’Neill to turn the Eye over to the goa’uld because you knew how to get to the Lost City, remember?  Back on Abydos with your friends.”

            “I…I did?” Daniel blinked. “Then we’d better ask Jack where it is.”

            “Jack can’t remember what you told him.  He wanted me to ask you.” Tyler smiled warmly from a safe distance.

            “He did?”

            “Mmm hmm.”

            “That’s strange.”

            “Why?”

            “Because he thinks you’re an asshole.” Daniel shrugged. “Don’t tell him I told you, though.  It’s a secret.” He whispered.  One of the guards snickered before attempting to cover it with a coughing fit, Tyler glaring at him. "Or maybe not.  I can't remember."

            “That might be, but he still wanted me to ask you.  I’ll make sure he remembers this time.”

            “See, the thing is,” Daniel whispered conspiratorially, looking from one side to the other before leaning forward in his chair. “I can’t remember any more.”

            “Yes you can.” Tyler assured him. “You just need to think.”

            “Too tired to think.” He said, sagging back in his chair and making one more attempt to wipe his face. “Ask Oma.  I think she knows.”

            “Alright.  Where can we find Oma?” Tyler asked attempting to hide his annoyance with the fact that the conversation had now come nearly full circle.

            “With the others.” Daniel shrugged.

            “And where are 'the others'?”

            “I don’t know…around…somewhere.” He nodded toward the ceiling.

            “Dr. Jackson!” Tyler shrieked, startling Daniel who stared back at him in confusion. “I’m losing my patience. Where is the Lost City?!”

            “I told you, I don’t know.” Daniel said, scowling back at him. “Ask Jack.”

            "I can't ask Jack because he's not here."

            "Then call him."

            "You are going to tell me." Tyler growled, his voice low.  He gripped Daniel's wrists, grinding them into the arm rests as he leaned forward into his face "Or I am going to make your existence truly unpleasant.  Now where is that City?"

            "I don't know." Daniel repeated glaring back at him. "And even if I did I wouldn't tell you."

            Tyler roared in frustration before delivering a solid right cross to Daniel’s face and storming out of the room, shoving the guards aside.  The men stared after him in shock, Daniel sitting completely stunned in the chair.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>                       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            “I understand, Colonel, but without something more than a mystery sighting in the middle of the night we’re right back where we started.” Hammond said, Jack leaning eagerly over the General’s desk, Sam right behind him.

            “I trust my contact, Sir.” Sam said.

            “I’m sure you do, Major, but I’m afraid it isn’t enough.”

            A knock on the door interrupted Jack before he could comment.

            “Come in.”

            “Sorry to interrupt, Sir, but you’ll want to see this.” Janet said, striding into the room, a small collection of papers in her hand.

            “What is it?”

            “The results from the DNA test.  It shows conclusively that whoever that body downstairs is, it is not Daniel.” She explained, eyes gleaming and a triumphant smile barely controlled on her lips.

            “The smoking gun, Sir.” Jack said standing up and waving at the papers in Janet’s hand. “Now can we nail Tyler?”

            Hammond snatched the red phone from its cradle. “This is Major General Hammond. I need to speak to the President immediately.  No, I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Once more Daniel woke to the gray concrete walls of a holding cell, head pounding.  Staring up at the ceiling he tried to remember what had happened, but very little was coming back to him.  He could recall being manhandled into the chair and arguing with Tyler, but after that things were a blur.  The realization that he was laying on a mattress temporarily distracted him.  He was still at floor level so obviously his bed didn't come with a frame.  The rest of the space remained empty.  He wasn't sure if they had moved him again or simply tossed a mattress into the room he had been in before. However, he also realized a moment after curiosity struck that he didn't really care. 

Rolling onto his side, Daniel attempted to sit up, but the sudden and insistent pounding in his head along with the slow rolling of his stomach stopped him.  Maybe he would just rest for a while.  After all, there was really no reason to get up.  Settling back against the mattress, he concentrated on trying to recall his last session with the obviously mentally unbalanced Colonel.  It had been pretty much the same as every other encounter with one exception.  In a flash he remembered the presence of the annoying Captain.  He’d been drugged.  Inspecting his arm Daniel found a small bruise where the man had injected a syringe full of something into him.  He could only assume the headache, nausea and slightly blurred vision despite his glasses were side effects.  Temporary ones he hoped.  His insistently aching jaw, however, was a mystery. 

For several long moments he attempt to recall what had happened after the injection, but it was a complete blank.  He could guess at the questions they had asked, but not at what he might have told them.  He wasn’t sure if it was because of the drug or the notion that he might have given away something he shouldn’t have, but suddenly he felt sick.  He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry, his tongue like sandpaper and the taste of something rancid clung to his mouth.  Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths and tried to will himself back to sleep hoping the next time he woke things would be clearer.  Unfortunately it wasn’t working.  His head was beginning to pound again despite his horizontal position and his stomach had curled in on itself forming a tight ball in his gut. 

Out of the corner of his eye Daniel saw the glaring red light of the ever-present surveillance camera across the room.  As usual his every move was being watched and possibly recorded.  Somewhere someone was watching him roll from side to side on the makeshift bed, observing him squeezing his head in his hands and about to see him throw up on the floor.  Glaring at the blurred image of the camera Daniel was suddenly furious.  Ignoring both head and stomach as best he could, he rolled off the mattress and forced himself to his feet.  Wobbling on unsteady legs, the room tilting and spinning around him, he staggered to the camera and grabbed it, glaring into it before turning it away from him until the only thing it could see was the opposite corner of the room. 

By the time the guards arrived he had made his way back to the mattress and collapsed on it, gagging for several minutes, but unable to bring anything up.  The door slammed open with a resounding bang just as the room had slowed its spiraling, Daniel's back pressed against the wall.

“What the hell’s going on in here?” one of them demanded, Daniel ignoring him completely. “Leave the damn camera alone or I’ll break your hands, you understand me?” He continued to bellow as he stalked across the room to readjust the camera. "I mean it." He added as he stormed back across the floor before yanking the door closed again. 

At least now he knew how to get attention if he needed it Daniel mused to himself as he waited for the room to stop spinning.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>              <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Colonel Tyler watched as the image on his small black and white screen suddenly panned the room from a lifeless corner of the ceiling to Dr. Jackson curled up on a bare mattress.  The guard disappeared from view behind a solid steel door, but still Jackson didn’t move.  Tyler glared at the image, fists pressed together knuckle to knuckle in front of him. 

            It had been very nearly a week.  A week of interrogations, drugs, torture and still Dr. Jackson refused to tell him anything useful.  He was beginning to see what his predecessors had found so thoroughly annoying about the archaeologist.  On the surface he was aggravating.  Deeper down he was completely infuriating.  It was possible, Tyler supposed, swiveling his chair away from the monitor, that Dr. Jackson was telling him the truth.  He wasn’t giving any information because he didn’t have any to give, though Tyler found it very hard to believe.  A year spent living with a colony of obviously intelligent and technologically advanced aliens and he remembered nothing? At the very most Tyler was willing to believe he simply didn't know how to access the memories.  The notion that the information had been permanently erased from his brain had been rejected long ago.  It was in there somewhere.  It had to be, otherwise he had risked everything for no reason. 

His career was over.  He knew that, had known that the moment he’d walked into the Oval Office spinning a tale of half truths and omitted facts to the President.  Vice President Kinsey had been only too willing to believe it, which had made his job that much easier.  Just the mention of the possibility of a member of the SGC withholding information and Kinsey had had pen in hand ready to forge the President's signature if needed.  The concept that he’d thrown his career away on an empty headed archaeologist who had been long ago labeled a crackpot by his own peers was unthinkable. 

Dr. Jackson had the information.  Whether he knew it or not it was in his head and Tyler had officially grown tired of waiting.  He had tried everything he knew about interrogation to get it and was coming up empty handed, a result that was completely unacceptable. 

So far he had been willing to play nice and leave Dr. Jackson with his intellect in tack, but time was running out.  A team had already appeared at Nellis to formally investigate Dr. Jackson’s death.  For the time being they seemed to be buying his shocked and horrified performance at the news that the body he had shipped back to the SGC had not been that of Daniel Jackson.  But secrets had a way of coming out.  His team of supposed professionals was turning out to be nothing more than a collection of weak willed pretenders who didn’t seem to have the stomach for the job.  Things were becoming desperate and, as the saying went, desperate times did indeed call for desperate measures.  He had one more trick up his sleeve and obviously the time had come to use it.

A knock at his office door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come.” He commanded, a glare settled firmly on his face. “I trust you have the probe with you.” He said, his tone oozing impatience as one of the pretenders came slinking through the door.

“Yes, but I really think you should reconsider.” Stilman said.

“There is no time to reconsider.”

“Perhaps we could try the drug again.  Maybe at a lesser dose.”

“I warned him.” Tyler said, turning his back on the man. “He chose this, not me.  He could have cooperated long ago and this would all be over, but now he’s left me no choice.”

“I realize how important this information is, Colonel, but we can’t use the mind probe on him.  It's too…”

“Do you?” Tyler asked swiveling back around in his chair and interrupting the man’s protest. “With all of your sniveling it’s hard for me to believe you have fully grasped the situation.  Let me make it crystal clear for you.  Everything we have done since this scenario began has been illegal and you, my dear man, are in it up to your eyebrows.  Kidnapping, torture, falsifying military records, should I go on?  I’m not entirely sure what it will say on our court marshal documents, but I’m quite certain playing the President for a fool has to come with some type of punishment as well.”

“I had nothing to do with that.” Stilman protested.

“No, but you knew about it, didn’t you?”

“Look, I’ll admit we’ve done some underhanded things, but we’re about to take a step in a completely different direction.  The probe is too dangerous to be used on humans." He stated determinedly. "You know as well as I do what happened during the tests.  The other two subjects are severely and, I might add, permanently brain damaged.”

            “Consider it a noble sacrifice.  The information in Dr. Jackson’s brain is going to save the planet.”

            “He’s not just some idiot in a uniform.” The man continued to protest, veins bulging on his forehead. “It’s one thing to turn a useless Corporal into a vegetable.  He was practically one to begin with, but we’re talking about destroying a brilliant mind for information we’re not even sure he has.”

            “'Brilliant mind'?" Tyler sneered. "Well, well.  Apparently we have a closet Dr. Jackson fan in the ranks.  How touching."

            “I didn't mean…He’s a gifted scientist.” Stilman stammered. “You’ve read his reports, the mission logs…”

            “All he is to me is a living repository of information who will soon be a drooling, babbling, moron.” Tyler stated. “Whether he’s damaged by the probe or not is none of our concern.  Either way he will never see the outside of a holding cell again whether it's as a prisoner or a mental patient. Trust me, his 'brilliant' career is over.”

            “This has gone too far.” Stilman swallowed.

            “If I were you,” Tyler replied, turning his attention to the screen where Daniel lay sleeping “I’d do a bit less worrying about our newest test subject and a bit more worrying about your own neck.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel stood in the corner under the camera staring blankly at the door.  He wasn’t sure if it was a side effect of the drug they had used or the electricity they had run through him like a light bulb, but he had cramps in half the muscles in his body.  He had hoped if he moved around a little it would loosen things up, but after having paced the limited confines of the room for nearly an hour he wasn't finding much relief. The drug, it seemed, had messed up a few things where his body was concerned.  The headache had finally died down and his stomach was feeling much more cooperative, but he was continually vacillating between hot and cold.  One minute so warm he was tempted to start shedding clothes, the next freezing to death.

            They had finally managed to feed him, the tray full of food helping to clear his mind, but a clearer head had only made him more restless.   Lap after lap of his small room had brought him to only one conclusion: if he wanted to make it out of this alive he was going to have to find a way to rescue himself.  For all he knew the SGC thought he was dead, having been taken in by the decoy body Tyler had sent.  Janet would, of course, do an autopsy and maybe in the course of her examination figure out that it wasn’t really him, but there was no telling how long it would take.  With Tyler having moved him from Nellis it didn’t really make much difference.  Once they did figure it out they wouldn’t know where to find him and there seemed no point trying to get a message to them because he didn't know where they could find him either. 

            Not even remotely interested in being exposed to whatever new device or drug Tyler had in mind to try next he concluded it was time to look for a way out.  He hadn’t worked so hard to reclaim his life just to die at the hands of an egomaniac with illusions of being Master of the Universe.  It was time to take matters into his own hands and escape before it was too late.

            While Daniel was far from an expert on military installations he was well acquainted with the SGC and could only assume other bases would have at least some similarities.  For instance, despite being one of the most secure bases on the planet Cheyenne Mountain still had escape tunnels.  They were, of course, designed to be used in an emergency, but if this wasn’t an emergency he didn’t know what was.  If he could just get out of his cell and have a look around he might be able to find something similar and make a run for it.  It was simple, at least in theory.  The plethora of strategic pitfalls in his simple plan were what had left him standing dazed in the corner. 

            With a sigh he pushed himself away from the wall and shuffled toward the mattress, pouring himself carefully onto it.  His head was still spinning slightly from the drug and he felt like he could sleep for a week straight, nevertheless, staring up at the ceiling he tried to keep his mind focused on the issue at hand. 

Tuning things out had never been a problem for Daniel.  He could be incredibly single-minded.  Sometimes too much so.  The room could collapse around him and he wouldn’t necessarily notice unless it took half the hieroglyphs, pictographs, etc. that he happened to be working on with it.  For that reason it took him several long moments to realize exactly what he was staring at while scowling up at the ceiling in search of an answer.  Almost directly above him was a square air vent.  It was by no means large, but it might just be big enough.  Glancing at the camera that was still monitoring his every move, he returned his focus to the ceiling, this time with an entirely new train of thought.

            By the time he got up from the mattress again he had a tentative plan in mind.  Actually a very sketchy one that involved him crawling through the air ducts in search of a way out without making too much noise or getting stuck or having the thing collapse through the ceiling into the rooms below.  That was the grand scheme in its entirety as he shuffled across the room and grabbed the camera, jerking it to the far corner.  It wouldn’t give him much time before someone came to fix it again and discovered he was missing, but in the event someone was actually paying attention he couldn’t exactly climb into the vent with them watching his every move.  There wouldn’t be much point if ten minutes later they were climbing in after him.  This way it might take them some time to figure out exactly where he’d gone.  Hopefully long enough for him to crawl out of the ducts somewhere else and find an escape tunnel.  Daniel had briefly considered waiting until after lights out when the place was pitch dark, but then he wouldn't be able to see what he was doing any better than they could.  Not to mention having to risk the possibility of Tyler dragging him back to the interrogation room.

            Daniel grimaced as he stretched cramped muscles, reaching toward the vent only to find he was several inches too short.  He wasted precious time searching the room for furniture he knew wasn’t there before it occurred to him to use the mattress.  Moving as quickly as he could he folded it into a loose roll, adding the missing inches to his height.  He pushed on the tiered metal faceplate to the air vent and felt it move.   Glancing at the door, he slid the plate up into the ceiling and over to the side before gripping the edges of the square hole in the ceiling and with considerable effort lifted himself off the ground all the while hoping and praying the rectangular ductwork inside would hold him.  Air vents weren’t designed to support much weight and it occurred to him as he heard the shaft creak that his 190-pound frame might be too much.  Still, it was the only way out short of attacking a guard and stealing the keys. 

            Carefully he dragged himself into the duct pausing long enough to replace the faceplate before heading out in search of freedom.  The duct was almost exactly big enough to hold him.  There were a few inches worth of space above his back as he lay stretched out on his stomach, but his shoulders were wedged against the sides almost too tightly to move.  The weight of his upper body rested on his elbows, palms flat on the metal surface to add what little traction they could, he pushed himself with his toes, inching forward and immediately realizing there would be no such thing as sliding quickly and effortlessly through the vents.  On the bright side it meant there was little chance of him making a lot of noise.  On the downside it was going to take him a lot longer to get out than he’d planned. 

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>               <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            “What do you mean he’s gone?” Tyler snarled into the phone. “Where could he possibly have gone?  Well find him!”  He slammed down the receiver and glared at the black and white image that was being transmitted to his office at Nellis, the one that showed an empty room. 

            Somehow Dr. Jackson had managed to escape a locked cell with a supposedly constantly monitored security camera.  Obviously that was far from accurate.  The guards had either fallen asleep on the job or been busy jerking off in a corner somewhere because their only prisoner was suddenly missing.  Grinding his teeth Tyler slammed his fists down on his desk.  This man was much more trouble than he was worth.  Because of him Tyler had spent most of the afternoon explaining himself to a team of very determined investigators sent to discover the whereabouts of a certain member of SG-1.  The truth behind the body had come to light and the President wanted answers.  For the time being he had managed to snow them with his distraught and bewildered act, but it was only a matter of time before someone divulged the truth and he had a good idea who that someone would most likely be. 

            “Stilman, get up here.” He barked into the intercom system.

            Now to make matters worse the man Tyler was risking everything for had just vanished, which meant he was going to have to make a trip back into the desert and find him.  The guards, that he was about to have assigned to an even darker hole somewhere, apparently couldn’t find their asses with both hands and a map. 

He was beginning to understand the spectacular downfalls of his predecessors.  It was nearly impossible to pull off a decent plan when surrounded by half-wits.  Every risk was magnified along with the consequences of every screw up.  One brainless guard who couldn't seem to understand the concept of manning his post and Tyler was suddenly staring into the gaping mouth of a complete catastrophe.

            “Come.” He snarled at the tentative knock on his office door. “Close the door.” He commanded as Stilman slid anxiously into the room.

            “What’s going on?” he asked in a strained whisper, his body a visibly trembling bundle of nerves.

            “We’re going back to The Hold.” He stated, using the code word for the half-finished facility they had turned into a secret detention center. “Grab everything incriminating and be ready to leave in 20 minutes.”

            “That’ll take me a while.”

            “You have 20 minutes.”

            “I’ll pack up the worst of it.  We can come back for the rest later.”

            “Pack up all of it.  We won’t be back for a while and I don’t want those investigators to stumble onto anything while we’re gone.”

            “We can’t just run, Colonel.  It will only make things worse.”

            “We’re not running we’re going to find Dr. Jackson.  Apparently he’s escaped his cell.”

            “How?”

            “I don’t know.  That’s what we're going to find out.  You now have 18 minutes.”

            With a nod Stilman scurried out of the room.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>  <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel lay panting quietly in the duct his forehead rested on the metal beneath him.  He’d been dragging himself along for what felt like an hour, his feet and calves aching from the effort.  He had heard the muffled bellowing of the guards when they had finally discovered his empty cell.  Something that had taken them a lot longer than he had thought it would.  Since then it had been quiet except for the continued slamming of doors from various places under him making him wonder how long it would be before Tyler showed up to lead the search. 

Daniel had assumed he was already in the facility, but so far hadn't heard the distinctive sound of him bellowing up and down the halls.  It seemed odd that a man so hell bent on getting what he wanted wouldn’t get a little more excited over the fact that his meal ticket was missing.  The only explanation he could think of was Tyler was off somewhere occupying himself with other things, which meant when he returned there would indeed be a lot of noise made.  He had hoped to be well on his way to freedom by the time that happened, but he was making disappointingly slow progress.  Between stopping to rest his legs and stifling sneezes from the dust he didn't seem to be making a lot of headway. 

He had set off in the same general direction the guards had taken him for the last interrogation, but had no idea where he was or how much further it might be to something resembling a way out.  One thing he was beginning to realize was that it would be much easier to crawl back out of the ducts and sneak from room to room. However, with Tyler likely to show up any minute he decided he was safer in the ducts.  At least for the time being. 

            Daniel waited until he had managed to catch his breath and then pushed ahead.  He didn't know if it was the dust, a mild case of claustrophobia or something else entirely, but it was getting harder to breathe.  He had noticed that particular problem after the last time Tyler drugged him, but it had taken a back seat to the pain and dizziness.  Still, despite the fact that his stomach had settled and his head had finally stopped spinning that symptom hadn't disappeared.  For the time being he was perfectly willing to chalk it up to an over abundance of dust and promise himself to climb out of the ducts as soon as the excitement had died down a little.  Hopefully that wouldn't take long.  If he was lucky they would think he had left the building and begin scouring the desert for him.  That would keep them busy for a while.

            Inching his way along, he followed the ducts through the building making minimal progress for his effort, freezing every time the air conditioning came on.  It was like stepping into a winter wind and while he tried to keep the shivering to a minimum it wasn't easy.  Before the air shut off again he would be half frozen, teeth chattering and his fingernails turning blue.  He had been in the shaft for hours before he heard voices floating up from a vent several feet away.  Daniel lay still, listening to the approaching sound of voices and boots on the concrete floor below, doors opening and closing as they drew near.

            "Clear." A very annoyed voice stated followed by the sound of a closing door.

            "Clear." Came an identically annoyed reply as another door closed.

            "How much time we got?"

            "Less than an hour.  Clear."

            "I hope he busts Bannerman down to Private and assigns him permanent duty scrubbing latrines with a toothbrush.  Clear." Another door closed. "Making us search the entire base because Bannerman had to take a leak when he should have been watching the monitor. As if it’s our fault he’s got a little girl’s bladder."

            "Tell me about it.  Clear."

            Daniel inched closer to the vent as the voices began to fade.

            "How hard can it be to keep track of a four eyed geek?  Clear."

            "Yeah, well how hard should it be to find one?  Clear.  We've been at this for an hour.  The guy ain't here."

            "You think he made it outside?"

            "How should I know?  Clear.  All I know is we're all gonna end up pulling latrine duty before this is over."

            "Hey, man, I wasn't on duty.  It ain't my fault.  Clear!" the man snarled.

            "Try telling that to Tyler.  The guy's a bastard.  He'll bust everybody just so he doesn't have to figure out who did what.  Clear.  Wait…no, clear."

            "Who is this guy, anyway?"

            "Who knows?  Some scientist or something.  Just another dork in a lab coat. Clear.  That's the last one.  Let's start down here."

            "Obviously a dork who knows too much or we wouldn't be busting our asses looking for him."

            The men continued down the hall, their conversation fading as they moved further away.  While it had confirmed Daniel's assumption that they were still searching for him it really hadn't told him anything useful.  He still had no idea where he was or how to get out.  What he did have was a growing suspicion that when Tyler got a look at the empty holding cell with his own eyes it wouldn't take him very long to notice the air vent in the ceiling.  While it wasn't safe to leave the vents until Tyler had finished searching the base it also wasn't safe to stay in them once he started searching in earnest. 

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            "I want all this stuff moved to my office." Tyler ordered the nearest soldier as he climbed out of the black SUV. "And I expect to see someone in my office in less than two minutes with a very detailed report of what the hell is going on around here." He barked, striding past the young man and into the building. "Stilman, you're with me." He added, storming past the security checkpoint.

            He had been fuming the entire trip back to the Hold and Stilman's constant whining on the trip over hadn't helped.  It had only managed to edge him closer and closer to a headache until he'd finally pulled his weapon from its holster and threatened to put an end to the incessant sniveling permanently.  Thankfully the man wasn't a complete idiot.  He was still able to recognize and threat to his life when he saw one. 

Tyler had wanted to bring a truckload of soldiers with him to help in the search, but leaving the base in the middle of a very sensitive investigation was raising enough suspicion.  Leaving with a convoy of armed men would have guaranteed the company of people he would rather not have looking over his shoulder.  As it was, the plan had just taken a definite turn toward the crapper.  He was supposed to have been spending the next few days pulling information from Dr. Jackson's brain at the speed of light, thanks to the modified mind probe, before dumping the mindless body in a secure facility under an assumed name and disappearing into the vast landscape of lawless countries willing to hide a man for a price.  With the money he had siphoned from the NID he would have more than enough to guarantee several months of privacy.  Plenty of time to sift through Dr. Jackson's information and figure out where to find the Lost City.  After that it was just a matter of looking up old contacts, occupants of the Underground, and acquiring a base from which he could run the planet. 

Now he was going to have to waste the better part of a day driving all the way out to the Hold to find Dr. Jackson who was most likely cowering in a dark corner racking his brain for a means of escape.  Not to mention the security risk he had taken making the drive in broad daylight where anyone could see him.  He hadn't seen a tail or heard a helicopter, but that didn't necessarily mean anything.  Intelligence people could be sneaky bastards when the occasion called for it. 

Marching down the hall with Stilman scurrying behind him Tyler took the elevator down to the holding cells and strode up to the first available door. He opened it without a word and stepped inside, Stilman warily stepping in behind him.

"What are we doing in here?" he asked, eyes darting around the empty room.

"'We're' not doing anything.  I'm going up to my office to kick somebody's ass and you're going to stay here until I have time to deal with you."

"What?  Wait.  You can't do this."

"You are just one big walking cliché, aren't you?" Tyler frowned at him before stepping back into the hall and pulling the door closed behind him.

"Let me out of here!" the small man bellowed, pounding on the door, Tyler striding back to the elevator without so much as a glance behind him.

The first set of boxes from the SUV had yet to find their way to his office by the time he had arrived, adding to his already considerable annoyance.  Not to mention the fact that by his watch five minutes had passed since he had ordered someone to brief him and it would appear no one had the nerve.  He was just reaching for the phone with the intention of bellowing into it loudly enough to break someone's eardrum when a soldier stepped through his open office door, snapping him a smart salute.

"Sergeant Bannerman reporting as ordered, Sir."

"Bannerman." He said, turning away from his desk to face the man. "Has Dr. Jackson been found yet?"

"No, Sir.  We are still searching the base, but don't worry we'll find him."

"I see.  So we have everything under control do we?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Well then, while we wait for Dr. Jackson to reappear perhaps you can explain to me how he managed to escape a secure, constantly monitored cell in the first place and why I was forced to leave behind some very pressing business at Nellis to drive all the way out here and do your job for you?!" he barked, face red, several veins in his neck bulging.  "It's been four hours, Bannerman!  If everything is so bloody well under control then where the hell is my prisoner?!"  The satisfaction of seeing the solder in front of him obviously rattled by the outburst was the only thing keeping him from wrapping his hands around the man's neck and choking the life out of him right there in his office.

"We are, uh, not sure how Dr. Jackson escaped, Sir." Bannerman explained. "He tampered with the security camera again and by the time we got down there to fix it he was gone."

"And when you finally managed to find your way to his cell was the door open?"

"No, Sir.  The door was secure."

"There are no windows in that room, Sergeant.  No furniture for him to be hiding under, no closet to lock himself in so if he didn't simply stroll through the door you claim was secure then where is he?" He asked moving closer to the man, his tone softer, but laced with sarcasm.  "Are you trying to imply that he simply evaporated?"

"No, Sir."

"Then how the hell did he get out of his cell?!" he yelled inches from Bannerman's face.

"I don't know, Sir." Bannerman swallowed.

"Who was on duty?"

"Uh, I was, Sir." He admitted, unsuccessfully attempting to control his trembling.

"Oh, I see.  And how long did it take you to get downstairs after you realized Dr. Jackson had tampered with the camera?" he asked calmly, lowering his voice once again.

"Five minutes, Sir."

"And in that five minutes he managed to escape." He concluded, hands behind his back as he wandered toward his desk.

"Yes, Sir."

"Tell me, Sergeant, while you still hold that rank, how long did it take you to notice he had moved the camera?" he nearly purred, turning to face him.

"Less than a minute, Sir."

"You're lying Bannerman." He calmly informed him. "I didn't get to this point in my career without being able to tell when I'm standing in a pile of horse shit. How long?!" He barked.

"I…I'm not sure, Sir.  I wasn't at my post."

"I assumed that." He sneered. "How long were you gone?"

"Five, maybe ten minutes, Sir."

"So it's possible Dr. Jackson had at lease fifteen minutes of privacy before anyone thought it might be a good idea to check on him.  The source of the most valuable information known to man and for a full quarter of an hour nobody was watching him."

"I'm sorry, Sir.  I take full responsibility.  It won't happen again."

"You bet your ass it won't happen again.  As of this moment you are relieved of duty pending a formal investigation of your actions.  By the time this is over, Soldier, I intend to see you busted all the way down to Cadet.  Now give me your weapon and park your ass in that chair." He demanded. "If you so much as breathe too loudly I'm going to blow your head off.  Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

Tyler snatched the weapon from Bannerman's hand and marched back to his desk before picking up the phone.  "Get somebody up here, now." He bellowed, slamming the handset back onto the cradle.

            Almost instantly another soldier appeared in his office.

            "I want this man cuffed and tossed into a holding cell.  He is officially relieved of duty pending what will most likely be a very unspectacular court martial.  Get some help.  I don't want him to escape."

            "Yes, Sir."

            "While you're at it, put cuffs on Dr. Stilman.  I left him in C-1.  I don't want a repeat of this Jackson incident."

            "Yes, Sir."

            Tyler picked up his office phone again as the soldier escorted Bannerman out of the room, the first load of things from the SUV finally appearing.

            "I want a detail in my office on the double." He demanded. "We're going to find our missing prisoner."

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>    <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel had just shivered his way through another frigid, air-conditioned gale when the duct he was creeping through began to vibrate.  The sensation grew stronger until the entire aluminum shaft was shuddering.  For a heart pounding instant he wondered if something was coming down the duct, but then as suddenly as it had started, the vibration stopped.  The unmistakable chiming of the elevator as the doors slid opened answered his question about what had caused the odd occurrence.  Laying directly over the vent, he waited unmoving, listening as a herd of feet clomped across the floor below moving swiftly down the hall.  He waited until the sound had disappeared before continuing his excruciatingly slow progress through the duct, hoping they hadn't left someone behind to guard the elevators.  Someone who might hear him slinking around above and blow his escape. 

            Continuing carefully on his way the herd of feet was soon forgotten, his skin thankfully beginning to warm again after the last assault from the air conditioning.  He had no idea how much time had passed, but suddenly off in the distance he heard a faint voice.  Pausing, Daniel turned his head in an attempt to find the direction of the sound and strained to hear.

            "We know you're up here, Dr. Jackson." The tiny voice informed him, the sound traveling through the shaft from somewhere behind him.  A few more feet and he might not have heard it at all. "Rest assured we will find you.  There is no way off this base so you might as well give yourself up now.  I assure you, it will be much more pleasant for you if you do."

            The voice disappeared and immediately Daniel started moving again.  Tyler was crazy if he thought he was going to simply crawl out of the duct with his hands on his head and turn himself in.  He had a pretty good idea what would be waiting for him when he did.  The thought of being trapped in the ducts and slowly withering away was much more tolerable than the idea of another session in the chair.

            Several more blasts by the air conditioner came and went before the heaviness in his chest finally mutated into a wheeze.  Actually it was more of a rattle, but either way Daniel took it as a bad sign.  The fact that a cough seemed to come with it made things much worse.  Covering his mouth with both hands to muffle the sound he realized hiding in the ducts was no longer safe.  He was making too much noise.  Noise that would eventually give him away as it echoed down the tunnel and out through every vent.

            He had managed to travel a significant distance from the elevators in the opposite direction of his cell, but since it was a part of the building he had never actually seen he could only hope that was a good thing.  Inching his way toward the next vent, he carefully, and as quietly as possible, removed the cover, sliding forward until he could poke his head through the hole.  He was in an empty corridor, an unmarked, unoccupied, not particularly inviting corridor with closed doors running the entire length.  Pulling himself back up into the tunnel Daniel lay in silence for several minutes, the rattle he could feel more than hear rumbling in his chest as he listened for any signs of life below. 

Finally having recovered enough strength for the task ahead he poured himself out of the duct, dangling momentarily from the ceiling before dropping as quietly as possible to the floor.  Unfortunately replacing the vent cover was impossible without something to stand on.  He had no choice, but to leave it open, evidence that he was now slinking through the halls rather than the ventilation system.  Evidence the guards would no doubt find eventually.  Determined to conceal his escape and put as much distance between himself and the open vent as he could, Daniel moved down the hall in the same direction he had been crawling. 

            He peered in windows as he went finding an overabundance of empty rooms and a distinct lack of people adding credence to his notion that the complex was largely deserted.  In fact, he was beginning to suspect Tyler and his gaggle of soldiers were the only ones using it.  A concept he suddenly realized might work in his favor. If he could find a corridor with enough deserted rooms and no guards perhaps he could hide out long enough to come up with a real plan, though it would probably be better not to settle on the same level Tyler was currently searching.  That left the question of which direction to go: up or down.  Tyler probably wouldn't suspect him of attempting to burrow deeper underground when the surface led to freedom making it a tempting option, but he didn't particularly want to spend a week hiding out in the depths of the building waiting for them to give up the search either.  Not that the idea of the Colonel giving up was exactly realistic.  Tyler wanted what was in his brain and was most likely willing to go as far as cutting off his head to get it.  In fact, considering what little progress he had made so far Daniel was perfectly willing to assume Tyler would have preferred that option had it been available.

            His mind made up that heading to the surface was the better option Daniel continued his nearly silent flight down the hall searching for an escape tunnel.  Slinking around a corner, attempting to look both ahead and behind he discovered himself at a dead end.  Daniel stared confused at the wall several feet ahead.  The SGC didn't have dead ends.  Everything ran in a continuous circle making it possible to pass the same point several times if you were paying more attention to your thoughts than your progress through the hall.  Something he was embarrassed to admit he had done on more than one occasion. 

Fortunately running into a dead end in this case wasn't as tragic as it might have been.  There at the end of the hall that might have marked the end of his progress was a familiar oval door painted with a stenciled "Exit".  The bolts at the top and bottom of one side identified it as an access to the escape tunnel.  Confusion flowed to relief as he moved quickly and as quietly as possible in his current state of elation, covering the last few feet to the end of the hall.  He loosened the bolts and swung the door open cringing at the squalling of the hinges before peering into the space, the escape ladder disappearing into the darkness in both directions. 

            The faint sound of boots on concrete had Daniel hurriedly tightening the bolts on the door before running for cover.  He ducked into the nearest room and quietly closed the door behind him, huddling against the wall beside it.  Straining to hear over the pounding of his heart, he listened for any sound that might mean he was about to be discovered.  Crouched on the floor he remained perfectly still, waiting.  Minutes passed with no sound in the hall outside still he stayed where he was until his legs started to ache from the cramped position.  He wasn't sure what to make of the fact that the expected sound of boots and soldiers' voices never came.  Either they suspected he was nearby and were being incredibly quiet or they had seen the dead end and moved in another direction.  Hoping it was the latter Daniel finally settled on the floor stretching his legs out in front of him and taking a moment to review his sketchy escape plan. 

Lack of food, water and sleep was taking its toll on him making it harder to think with each passing moment.  It was tempting to stretch out on the hard concrete floor and doze off, but the thought of waking to find himself strapped in the chair kept him from taking the idea seriously.  No matter how bad he felt at least he wasn't being electrocuted for Tyler's amusement and very much wanted to keep it that way.  Out of his cell and no more than a few feet from the escape tunnel he was well on his way to freedom.  The question plaguing him as he rested against the solid wall at his back was what did he do once he got to the surface?

            Daniel sat staring across the room for several very long moments, the few options that occurred to him being discarded almost as quickly as they materialized when suddenly he realized what he was looking at.  It was an unused phone jack settled part way up the wall.  There was no phone anywhere in sight, but it gave him an idea.  The only way to get back to the relative safety of the SGC was going to be with help and the only one he could count on to help him with any amount of success was Jack.  It would be a big risk, but he needed to get to a phone and call the SGC.  Piece by piece a plan began to form in his mind.

            Tyler had a limited number of soldiers and thanks to his discovery of the ventilation shaft most of them were currently scouring the complex.  That meant there were probably very few left to guard the front door.  If he could get outside and somehow sneak back into the base through what might very well be an abandoned front door he might be able to find a phone and call for help.  It was risky and probably a bit insane, certainly what Jack would have called a "bad plan", but it was all he had.  The longer he stayed in the building the more likely Tyler was to find him.  Outside he doubted there was much besides miles and miles of desert.  Without help he was a goner either way, though he much preferred the notion of the desert to the unstable Colonel.

            Getting to his feet Daniel opened the door the tiniest bit and pressed his ear to the almost non-existent crack, listening.  Hearing nothing he poked his head out into the hall and took a look around.  It was deserted, just the way he had left it. He stepped quietly out of the room and headed for the escape tunnel, quickly unfastening the bolts before sliding them away from the door.  I slightly less boisterous squawk was broadcast from the hinges as he pulled it open and reached for the ladder.  Being unable to bolt the door from the inside he was leaving yet another clue, but as with the last time he had no choice.  Daniel slipped into the barely lit tunnel and pulled the door closed. 

Unlike the ventilation shaft that had ample light coming in through the vents the only illumination in the tunnel was from dim red lights spaced at least twelve feet apart putting off just enough of a glow to allow him to find the rungs on the ladder.  With no ventilation the space was stuffy and warm, but he wasn't intending to spend much time in it.  He had several floors to climb before he reached the surface and limited time before someone discovered the escape tunnel door.  If he was going to make it out alive he needed to hustle.

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            "I don't care where he isn't, Captain." Tyler barked at the soldier given the unfortunate duty of updating him on the progress of the search. "Tell me where he is."

            "We don't know yet, Sir."

            "Obviously." he sneered, reaching into his desk and pulling out a pistol. "Don't just stand there like an idiot get back to work!" he demanded, finding no satisfaction in watching the young man scurry out of his office.

            Things were getting complicated and he hated complicated.  If he didn't move quickly he was going to end up neck deep in trouble with nothing to show for his plotting and planning, but a life sentence in Federal prison.  Obviously attempting to go through "proper channels" to get to Dr. Jackson had been the wrong move.  He had tried playing within the system when he should have simply gone underground.  A nice, clean kidnapping would have alleviated half his current problems.  He could have snatched Jackson off the street, strapped him to a table, let the mind probe burrow into his brain and been half way to the Lost City by now.  Unfortunately he had listened to Stilman, the cowering, sniveling little twit who had assured him the probe was unnecessary, the modified Zatar'c detector would do the trick.  At the time Tyler had thought Stilman was simply being cautious.  Little did he realize his conservative measures were due entirely to some kind of crush on the victim.

For his part, Tyler had to admit he had been unaware of Stilman's lack of stomach when it came to torture.  The useless little weasel had turned out to be completely unprepared to take things where they needed to go.  He didn't understand it was just business.  None of this had anything to do with Jackson personally.  He just happened to be in Tyler's way, an unfortunate position, but certainly no reason for letting conscience interfere. In this game there was no right or wrong only necessary means.

Storming through the halls, he pounded the button for the elevator with his fist, the sidearm held in his other hand.  Now, however, things were different.  Jackson was costing him time, money and an amazing amount of effort not to mention putting everything he had worked for at risk.  Escaping into the ventilation shaft, while quite clever, was completely unforgivable.  This was no longer simply business.  He would get his hands on Daniel Jackson again eventually, of that he had no doubt.  And when he did he would tear him to pieces.  He would see him begging for mercy before it was over.  A feral smirk crept across Tyler's features as he pictured his victim stretched out on a table somewhere, a tourniquet strangling the wrist of a hand that happened to be missing several fingers, Tyler working his way through his digits prepared to remove every last one of them.  Only when he was almost delirious from pain and loss of blood would Tyler finally relent, using the mind probe to relieve him of any further awareness of his pitiful situation.  Then he would dump the empty shell of a human where the investigators at Nellis could find him and the SGC could have its precious archaeologist back…in one form or another.

The scene still playing in his head, imaginary screams echoing in his ears, Tyler stepped out of the elevator and unlocked the door of the holding cell marked C-1.  Without a word he brought the pistol up and leveled it at Stilman who sat miserably against the far wall, hands restrained behind his back.  The scientist barely had time to register what was about to happen before Tyler pulled the trigger.  Without so much as pausing to survey the damage, his mind already on other things, Tyler turned, leaving the man face down on the floor, the remains of his gray matter splattered on the wall behind him, and walked out of the cell.  For a moment he considered doing the same to Bannerman, but concluded that if he started killing soldiers because they were inept he'd have to line up the entire detail and shoot them all.  Instead he returned to the elevator and headed back to his office.  He had things to do.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>   <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel could hear himself wheezing as he struggled up the ladder, hands slipping from the rungs now and then as sweat accumulated on his skin.  According to the stenciled markings on the door he had just passed he was on level nine.  The fact that he had finally broken into single digits was a relief, but the thought of ascending nine more levels was daunting.  He was exhausted, arms and legs trembling from the effort and more thirsty than he could ever remember being in his life.  Pausing in his ascent, Daniel let go of the ladder and leaned back against the far side of the narrow tunnel resting his arms if not his legs.  There was no point going over the plan while he rested because there wasn't enough of one to go over.  He needed to get out.  Once he did he needed to find a phone.  If he couldn't find a phone, food and water would be nice.  If he couldn't find any of those he was going to have to come up with a new plan.  That was assuming he didn't get shot or recaptured the minute he crawled out of the escape tunnel. 

            Obviously they didn't know where he was or Tyler would have sent someone into the tunnel to get him, a racket he would easily have heard.  He had already tried out the acoustics with a sneeze that had taken him completely by surprise, one that had seemed to echo off the concrete walls forever.  Of course it was always possible Tyler would be waiting for him with an armed guard the moment he emerged from the hatch on the surface, but he didn't want to think about that.  The idea that he was struggling his way up the ladder with his last ounce of energy only to be immediately captured was far too disheartening.

            With whispers of claustrophobia slipping cold fingers into his chest Daniel refocused his mind on the hatch still several floors above him.  It wasn't the first time the panicked notion of being trapped in the tunnel had settled on him.  The warm, stale air only made it worse giving him the feeling of not being able to breathe.  Thoughts of Tyler were not going to help.  Instead he pictured the hatch in his mind as he pulled himself away from the tunnel wall and began to climb.

            It felt like he had been inching his way up from the depths of the complex for days rather than hours.  He had blisters on both hands from gripping the rungs and the muscles in his arms were screaming.  His legs had given up complaining and were threatening to simply give out on him.  With his stomach cramping from lack of food, lungs wheezing every time he drew a breath and his head aching simply because it didn't want to be left out, he was the picture of misery.  However, all his physical discomforted faded into the background when the hatch came into view. 

            For several floors he had been attempting to figure out what to do if the escape hatch came with its own security system and for several floors he had been unable to answer the question.  His only plan had been to attempt to force the door open alarm system or not.  It would most definitely attract attention, but at least he would be out of the tunnel.  Fortunately, unlike the escape hatch at the SGC this one did not have a keypad that demanded a code before it could be opened.  Getting out was as simple as turning a metal wheel about the size of a small dinner plate to unlatch it.  After a few attempts, sweaty hands slipping on the metal, teeth clenched as he poured every last ounce of energy into it he finally managed to get the wheel to move, the latch squeaking open.  Resisting the urge to come busting out of the tunnel into the open air, Daniel pushed the hatch open just far enough to see daylight coming through and peered through the gap.  He eagerly sucked in the fresh air stifling a cough as he attempted to scan his soon to be new surroundings, but was unable to make out much.  In fact, all he saw was a concrete wall.  Cautiously he pushed the hatch open further and seeing no one around slipped silently out of the tunnel before closing it again.  He crouched beside the concrete encased end of the escape tunnel where it protruded nearly three feet out of the ground and glanced around for a new place to hide.

            The tunnel came out near a concrete retaining wall at the edge of a large expanse of desert plant life.  Joshua trees and low shrubs were scattered liberally in front of him enclosed by a tall chain link fence several feet away, one sporting curls of razor wire on top.  Resting for as long as he dared, Daniel finally got to his feet and began looking for a way to contact Jack.  Keeping the wall to his right, he followed it away from the escape tunnel, glancing toward the top looking for signs of surveillance cameras.  If there were any they weren't obvious. 

            Daniel saw the paved road stretching out into the distance at about the same time he noticed the wall was finally coming to an end.  Crouching down low he scowled at the swath of asphalt, its crumbled edges giving way to desert floor.  It was a deep tar black and looked relatively new or at least seldom used, the seldom used idea coming as a bit of a relief because he was out in the open with nothing much to hide behind if anything came barreling down the two lane road.  Unfortunately it also meant the chances of him flagging down some help were slim as well. 

Paying careful attention to the road Daniel crept to the edge of the wall and cautiously peered around it.  This time instead of more desert landscape it curved its way into a wide tunnel tall enough to accommodate a semi with room to spare.  Daniel stared down the length of it for a long moment, tracing its path until it finally disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.  Somewhere inside was the main entrance to the facility, and he had no idea what else.  If he was lucky the guards were busy elsewhere.  If he wasn't he would be walking right into their hands and suddenly the more he thought about his plan the less he liked it.  There was no telling what was waiting inside the shadows and whatever or whoever it was would be able to see him coming long before he knew they were there.  It was a huge risk, one Jack would certainly chastise him for taking even if it worked, of course, Jack wasn't there to witness it either.

Daniel turned and for a moment stared down the length of the road in the opposite direction.  The tunnel wasn't his only choice.  He could always follow the road and hope it wasn't too many miles before he stumbled across someone who could help.  Miles he would have to trudge without food or water, taking his chances with the creatures of the desert any time he chose to rest.  It was incredibly close to a no win situation. 

Daniel wiped the accumulation of sweat from his brow with the back of his arm and as his hand came away he glanced at the raw, filthy, blood smeared mess his palm had become during the long climb to the surface.  Quickly tallying injuries he had been determinedly ignoring he realized he really only had one option.  He wasn't in any shape for a long hike through the desert except as a last resort.  The raw places on his hands only reminded him of the singed places on his legs, ones that had been rubbing against his boots for hours and were most likely just as big a mess as his palms, though he didn't bother to look.  He could feel it in the razors of pain that swirled around his ankles every time he moved.  Waves of nausea and dizziness still washed over him from time to time and he was continuing to wheeze as he breathed.  The tunnel was a risk, but at least it would be a short distance not to mention getting him out of the sun that was slowly baking him.  Sighing heavily Daniel turned his back on the open road and slipped around the end of the wall heading toward the tunnel.

            Inching his way along, determined not to stop until he had reached the relative safety of the shadows and hoping with every step that no one was watching Daniel crept into the darkened tunnel and almost immediately collapsed in an exhausted heap.  He was aware guards could appear at any moment, but he couldn't seem to make his legs move even one more step.  He had been shuffling along for the last several yards by sheer force of will, but even that only took a person so far.  The best he could manage was to force himself to remain upright, leaning against the retaining wall as his eyes rapidly adjusted to the darkness. 

For the moment there was no one around, though the two black SUVs parked haphazardly further down the tunnel testified to the fact that he wasn't alone in the compound.  Daniel immediately recognized them from the hurried trip from Nellis in the middle of the night what seemed like a century ago.  As his sluggish mind continued to digest the information he realized he wasn't looking at two temporarily abandoned vans he was looking at two escape vehicles.  Demanding a last bit of cooperation from his abused body, Daniel forced himself off the ground with supreme effort and staggered toward the closest van. Sliding along the side of the SUV he glanced around for witnesses before trying the passenger door, elated when a tug at the handle produced the muffled clack of the latch opening.  He pulled the door open and peered inside checking for passengers.  Relieved to find the vehicle empty Daniel crawled in and pulled the door closed behind him as quietly as he could, tugging on it until the inner dome light finally went out. 

He sat for a moment in the front seat glancing around the car trying to decide what to do next when the notion of keys entered his mind.  He began searching the cabin, checking the glove compartment, under the seats, under the sun visor, in the ashtray, but finding nothing.  His search, however, didn't leave him completely empty handed.  Wedged in the crevice of the passenger seat he found a small cell phone.  With trembling hands he pressed the power button nearly giddy with relief when the small device came to life, the display flashing a company logo.  Finger poised over the keypad, brow furrowed in concentration he tried to remember the number to the SGC.  Any number at all.  After several long minutes a set of digits finally floated to the surface, ones he hoped belonged to Stargate Command as he immediately began dialing. 

The phone was only able to pick up a very weak signal in the confines of the tunnel.  The display reluctantly showing two bars only after Daniel had swiveled around in the seat, changing positions several times, aiming the phone around the vehicle like a tracking device.  Holding the phone to his ear he hoped it was enough to get through. 

Daniel listened to it ring the line at the other end, the sound fading in and out several times as it went unanswered.  He was starting to think he had dialed a wrong number and began digging through his brain for another when the ringing finally stopped.

"Operator." Came a voice on the other end, giving away nothing about the organization attached to the number he had just dialed.

"I need to talk to Colonel Jack O'Neill." Daniel stated quickly.

"Who?  I can't hear you.  What?"

"Jack O'Neill!" he stated in a volume he hoped couldn't be heard outside the vehicle.

"One moment."

There were several seconds of silence on the line, static fading in and out before a voice barked at him in a tone that left no room for pleasantries and no question of who he was talking to. 

"O'Neill."

"Jack, it's me." He blurted, unable to help the grin that spread across his face at the sound of a voice he knew so well. "Look I can't talk long, I don't know how long the signal is going to hold out."

"Daniel?" the venom had suddenly evaporated from his voice.

"Yeah.  I'm alive.  The body Tyler sent was a fake.  Listen, he's got me in some abandoned government building in the middle of nowhere.  It's out in the desert about three hours' drive from Nellis, but I can't be sure which direction."

"Wait…what?" Jack asked.

"It's some underground complex with a huge entry tunnel.  Like the SGC, but no sentry station at the entrance.  I have no idea what it is, but there aren't very many people around.  Just Tyler's soldiers, I think.

"You've got to get me out of here." Daniel informed him. "I'm hiding out in the tunnel in one of the SUVs, but if I stay here very long Tyler's going to find me and that would be very bad."  Suddenly he realized there was no sound coming from the other end. "Jack?  Jack, can you hear me?"

He pulled the phone away from his ear to find himself looking at the default display, the call having disconnected at some point during his conversation.  It was impossible to say when.  He considered dialing again, but the signal had been reduced to a single bar and seemed determined to stay there no matter where Daniel aimed the phone.  He slumped back against the seat and dropped his hand to his lap, the device still securely in his grip. 

For a moment he could feel tears of despair and frustration welling up in his eyes, misery threatening to settle over him.  He was so close, help only a phone call away and still he was helpless.  Pushing the thought angrily aside, he released a heavy sigh.  Self-pity wasn't going to do any good.  He needed to keep his focus.  It wasn't hopeless yet.  Close, but not quite.  Daniel shoved his thoughts in a more productive direction.  He had a phone.  Now what?  He needed to get further away from Tyler and he needed a place to get a stronger signal so he could try calling Jack again.  While he was busy listing things, he also needed food, water and sleep. 

Seeking a slightly less visible place to think, Daniel took shelter in the dark recess of the SUV, climbing into one of the bench seats, eyelids growing heavy as he sat glancing aimlessly around the van.  It was pleasantly warm in the vehicle, pleasant enough to be lulling him to sleep.  With the trauma of the past week behind him, at least for the time being, the adrenaline that had been keeping him going was fading quickly.  While the van offered nothing in the way of food, water or communication it was a quiet, if dangerous, place to rest for a few minutes.  He knew he couldn't afford to stay long, but he was beyond exhausted and suspected that if he didn't get some rest soon he wouldn't be much of a challenge for the guards if they found him.  Running for his life was rapidly fading from his list of options.  

With sleep threatening to overtake him with or without his permission Daniel crawled over the two back seats to the small cargo area at the tail end of the SUV and curled up on the floor, head rested on his arm.  He would just close his eyes for a few minutes.  Then he would set to work on a new plan.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>        <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Jack was wandering down the hall toward the control room when a voice came over the intercom paging him to the nearest phone.  Hammond had ordered him to stay on base until further notice, not wanting a rogue rescue team slipping off to make trouble.  It was an order that had left him skulking through the halls of the SGC with a chip on his shoulder and a scowl on his face daring anyone to cross him.  For the last two days his thoughts had been almost constantly on either Daniel or the number of things he fully intended to do to Tyler when he got his hands on him, neither of which helped to improve his mood.

            Striding to a phone attached at a random place along one of the walls, Jack snatched it from the cradle.

            "O'Neill." He snarled at the base Operator.

            "I have a call for you, Sir.  It's a bad connection, though."

            "Fine.  Put it through." He sighed wondering at the identity of the caller when his team was sequestered on base with him.

            "O'Neill." He barked when he heard the line connect, intending to make it a very brief conversation.

            "Jack…me." Announced a very familiar voice at the other end and instantly Jack's annoyance evaporated. "Can't…long…"

            "Daniel?" he asked gripping the phone, his heart pounding in his chest.

An odd sensation crept over him, a sudden awareness that things had just taken a turn toward the bizarre, one that left his head spinning with familiarity.  He had felt the same thing every time the ascended Daniel had miraculously appeared out of nowhere and again when the very corporeal version had been escorted into view on Vis Uban.  The supposedly cold, hard facts that outlined his existence had just been altered, reality shifting around him.  The dead had risen and reached out to shake his hand.  He assumed one day he would get used to the occurrence, especially if he was going to be spending any significant amount of time around Daniel, but for the moment it still left him shaken.

            "Yeah.  I'm alive.  The body…sent…in some…middle of nowhere.  Out in…three…Nellis.  Can't be…"

            "Wait a minute, Daniel.  You're cutting out.  What did you say?"

            "Underground." Daniel continued, the conversation coming in bits and pieces that made almost no sense. "You've got…very bad…"

            Suddenly the line was silent.

            "Daniel?  Daniel can you hear me?  Damn." He pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it before giving himself a mental shake.  Slamming it back on the cradle he launched himself full speed down the hall.  Hammond was not going to believe this. 

            "You're certain it was him?" Hammond asked, his face displaying the same mixture of emotions churning in Jack.

            "Positive."

            "Where is he?"

            "I don't know." Jack admitted. "It was a bad connection.  I was only getting about every other word, but I know it was him."

            "At least we know he's still alive." Hammond replied.

            "And we're going to go find him."

            "Where would you suggest we start looking, Colonel?" He asked.

            "Every military base within a thousand miles of Nellis."

            "We don't even know Tyler has him at a military base, assuming the man still has him at all.  He could be anywhere."

            "Look, he's still alive or at least he was a few minutes ago and I am not going to sit on my ass and hope he stays that way."

            "What do you suggest, Colonel?" Hammond asked.

            "Can we trace the call?"

            "Not on a cell phone." Sam reluctantly supplied from where she stood in front of the General's desk, Jack having dragged her from her lab. "We could triangulate the signal, but the cell phone would have to be on and we would need at least a general idea of his location.  Even in something as large as a 50 mile radius it would be difficult to find him."

            "Then what, Major?" Jack snapped.

            "We wait and hope he calls again.  I'm sorry, Sir, but we need more information." She admitted.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>    <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Daniel came awake when his head thumped against the back seat of the SUV.  For a moment he wasn't sure where he was, but the voices that had been unable to penetrate his sleep informed him he wasn't alone any more.  Resisting the urge to rub at the now sore spot on his head Daniel lay perfectly still on the floor even as the vehicle vibrated and bounced under him.  They were moving.  Judging by the amount of noise coming through the moderately insulated floor they were moving quickly. 

            Eyes wide, afraid to even breathe too loudly for fear of being discovered, he focused his attention on the sounds coming from the front of the vehicle and realized almost immediately the voices he was hearing were from the radio rather than the occupants of the van.  Now and then he could hear someone talking over the sound of the broadcast, but between the insistently argumentative commentator of the talk show and the toneless hum of the vehicle's tires on the pavement below him it was impossible to understand what they were saying. 

            Daniel peered under the seats in front of him to discover only two pairs of feet on the floor and those all the way up in the front of the SUV.  Apparently the rest of the vehicle was unoccupied making him feel a little more at ease.  A van full of soldiers was the last thing he needed.  Fortunately they hadn't attempted to throw anything in the cargo area before they had left or he would have awakened to a very different situation.

            Laying on his side he watched the unmoving feet up front and listened to the babbling of the radio talk show host all the while trying to stay awake, the motion of the vehicle threatening to lull him back to sleep despite the adrenaline coursing through his body.  According to his watch what was supposed to have been a few minutes' rest had actually turned into a two-hour nap.  Unfortunately he felt just as exhausted as he had when he'd drifted off which meant fighting a couple of soldiers for his freedom was out of the question.  They would be able to overpower him without much effort at all.  Then he would be carted right back to Tyler to face the Colonel's considerable wrath.  If he was going to escape he needed his string of luck to hold out a little longer.  In the absence of luck he needed a plan, the first part of which would be to stay awake long enough to think of the rest. 

Carefully, determined to move as quietly as possible, Daniel pulled himself into a sitting position against the side of the vehicle making sure to keep his head below the top of the seat in front of him.  Jaw clamped shut he grimaced as he opened raw hands that had grown stiff while he slept, half the blisters on his palms having burst during his climb from the escape tunnel leaving open wounds. 

            He noticed the trembling as he inspected the wounds on his palms, hands shaking in front of him with a motion that had nothing to do with the vibration of the SUV.  He'd seen the tremors often enough not to be concerned by them.  They usually happened when he was on caffeine overload with an empty stomach and not enough sleep.  It simply meant his body was on its last legs and he'd better do something about it before it collapsed on him in open rebellion.  In this case, however, there wasn't a lot he could do. 

            The sudden interruption of the radio commentator by a blast of country music caught his attention.  The bellowing from the front of the SUV had him scooting further down toward the floor.

            "What the hell are you doing?!"

            "Changing the station to something a little less pathetic."

            "Well that's obviously a matter of opinion.  Turn that crap down."

            "I am not spending the entire trip listening to that jerk.  The guy's a moron."

            "He's a hell of a lot smarter than you are."

            "Gee I haven't heard such a witty comeback since kindergarten."

            "I said turn that crap down!"

            The volume suddenly decreased by half.

            "Stuck in a van with a redneck.  That's just wonderful."

            "What's the matter?  Afraid it's contagious?  Think you'll be whistling Garth Brooks tunes by the time we get to Nellis?"

            "No, I'm more afraid I'll develop an urge to start dating my sister."

            "Funny.  Hey everybody, I'm riding in the van with a stand up comic!  Quite an accomplishment for a guy with no sense of humor."

            "I will be so glad to be off this detail; stuck out in the middle of nowhere with that nutcase of a Colonel.  The man is totally certifiable."

            "Several rounds shy of a full magazine.  A few peanuts short of a full bag.  One commemorative plate short of a complete set."

            "You think it's funny now, but mark my words, when we get back tomorrow he's going to have shot everyone in that place."

            "Of course Tyler's nuts.  He's a colonel.  They're all insane.  It comes with the promotion.  Look, don't worry, he'll calm down once they find Dr. Jackson."

            "You heard what he did to Stilman, right?"

            "I would have shot him too.  You don't bring a guy onto a top secret project only to have him wuss out at the worst possible moment, start blabbering to everybody who asks a question and then let him get away with it.  You put a round in his head and plug the leak.  Stilman was putting the whole project at risk."

            "It wasn't like he was talking to the press.  It was a Presidential inquiry."

            "'Need to know' applies to everybody, Pal.  Being the President doesn't automatically give you clearance."

            "Since when?"

            "You've got a lot to learn about this game, my friend.  The NID has its own set of rules and the sooner you understand that the better."

            "Yeah, well, thanks, but no thanks.  I think I'd rather just put in for a transfer."

            "Suit yourself."

            Daniel sat against the side of the van ears tuned to the conversation.  A smile crept across his face at the mention of the Presidential inquiry.  Apparently the body Tyler had sent back to the SGC with the name "Jackson" on the toe tag had inspired more than just a eulogy and a quick funeral.  It was no wonder Tyler was in such a bad mood.

            Conversation in the van was replaced by the continued caterwauling of the country music station, the soldiers apparently having nothing left to say to one another.  For most of the next hour they spoke very little other than the occasional comment about sports or television inspired by the radio.  Daniel didn't mind the lack of chatter.  He was busy trying to come up with a solution to his newest problem.  Namely what to do now that his successful escape from one facility was about to dump him right back into another.  He still had the advantage because Tyler had no idea where he was, but being locked inside the Nellis gates even if no one knew he was there was hardly freedom.  There were soldiers and cameras everywhere.  If he left the van, assuming they didn't open the cargo area and discover him first, it would only be a matter of minutes before he was caught. 

On the bright side maybe if he was caught by someone other than one of Tyler's men he could convince them to let him go or at the very least notify the SGC.  He wasn't, however, holding out much hope for either one.  Area 51 was Tyler's domain.  If they went through proper channels to report his capture the Colonel would know and he would be right back where he started.  Despite the Presidential investigation Tyler would find a way to make him conveniently disappear again and the nightmare would start all over.  Only this time Tyler would watch him more closely and treat him even worse.

Daniel felt the vehicle slow and ducked even further toward the floor.  Most of the road noise disappeared as they made a turn and headed in a new direction at a much slower speed before finally crawling to a stop.  He didn't know how long they had been driving before the noise had awakened him, but he was fairly certain they hadn't been on the road long enough to have reached Nellis.  The sound of a door opening confirmed it.  No guard station.  No security check.  Wherever they were it wasn't a military installation.

"I'm going to take a leak." One of the soldiers announced.

"I think I'll grab a sandwich." The other replied. "You want anything?"

"Get me a Coke will you?"

Doors slammed and the conversation was cut off, Daniel left in silence.  A moment later he heard the rattle of the gas cap coming off seconds before a face appeared in the rear side window.  Daniel froze staring at the man whose focus was thankfully on the gas pump.  If it hadn't been for the darkly tinted windows he would have been in very big trouble.  He listened as the nozzle was inserted into the tank and fuel began to flow, all the while staring unblinking at the soldier, waiting. 

Finally the man stepped away from the window and Daniel was able to breathe again.  He lay for several seconds afraid to move for fear the face would return, uncertain what to do.  The man had said he was going inside for food and there was no guarantee he would wait until the tank was full to do so.  It was possible he had disappeared from view because he was headed inside and by the time the gasoline stopped flowing would have returned and Daniel would have wasted what might be his only chance for escape.  It was also possible he had just stepped away to look at something and was no more than a foot or two from the SUV.  Slowly, making every effort not to jostle the vehicle, Daniel moved toward the window and cautiously peered out showing as little of himself as possible. 

They were at a gas station complete with a convenience store, two other cars parked at pumps further down.  The soldiers, however, were nowhere in sight.  Turning to scan the view on the other side of the vehicle and finding no one nearby he quickly crawled over the back seat no longer caring if his movements shook the SUV.  He only had a few seconds to get out before he was in too much trouble to contemplate.  Hustling through the van and keeping an eye on the door of the convenience store, well aware the men could return at any moment and mindful of the fact that people inside could see him if they happened to be looking, he crawled into the driver's seat.  Opening the driver's side door he slid out keeping his head below window level, the SUV shielding him from the store and the other two cars.  Daniel pushed the door closed shoving it hard enough to latch it and paused, crouched toward the ground. 

Heart pounding in his chest he tried to figure out his next move knowing he most likely had only seconds to act.  As soon as he stepped away from the van he would be visible.  If the soldiers were paying attention at all he would be stuffed right back into it and carted off.  Not before making a horrendous scene, but certainly before anyone could do anything more than stare in disbelief and reach for the phone to call police.  Police who would arrive far too late to be of any help. 

Panic welling up in him from the knowledge that time was running out, he stood up trying to appear as calm as possible and stepped away from the van.  From far away no one would be able to see him trembling or the obvious fear in his eyes.  He would look like an average guy striding casually, or what he hoped was casually, toward the pay phone at the corner of the building.  His real target was the dumpster settled a few feet beyond it, but they would hardly know that. 

Daniel walked keeping his eyes on the dumpster, resisting the urge to run and refusing to cast even a glance at the convenience store until he had reached the pay phone.  Within steps of the corner of the building he finally took one quick look over his shoulder to see if anyone was watching before bolting toward the trash receptacle and diving behind it.  Crouched to the ground he held his breath straining to hear anything that sounded like approaching feet and waited.  The stench of the dumpster was awful especially in the early summer heat, but he didn't care.  If he had to he would crawl inside to keep from being found. 

Daniel waited forcing himself to remain still, letting time pass, giving the soldiers plenty of opportunity to get back to the SUV and drive off blissfully unaware they had just let Tyler's apparently prized possession escape.  He stayed with his back pressed against the wall long after he was certain the soldiers would have finished their business and left afraid to move and seeing no reason to rush things.  Nestled uncomfortably close to the dumpster he was safer than he had been in days.  By the time he finally got to his feet to relieve the aching in his legs over twenty minutes had passed.  Assuring himself it had been long enough he cautiously came out from behind the trash receptacle and approached the corner of the building.  Peering out toward the gas pumps, visions of coming face to face with a soldier taunting him, he scanned the area where the SUV had been.  To his relief the space was empty.  In fact, there was hardly anyone around at all.  Only a single, faded red Volkswagen sat beside one of the eight pumps.  The large, black SUV was gone. 

Daniel cautiously ventured out from the safety of the building and looked again, scanning the entire lot.  It was nowhere in sight.  A wave of relief flowed through him with such force he nearly burst out laughing.  He had done it.  He was free.  For a moment he was tempted to declare the nightmare over and done, but caution got the better of him.  Despite the absence of soldiers and the freedom from his cell he wouldn't feel entirely at ease until he was back at the SGC. 

With the comforting thought of familiar surroundings in mind Daniel picked up the receiver of the pay phone in front of him and started to dial.  He was half way through the number to the SGC when he realized he had a problem.  He had no idea where he was.  It wouldn't do any good to tell Jack to come and get him if he couldn't even tell him what state he was in.  Reluctantly he hung up the phone and headed for the swinging glass doors of the convenience store. 

With the adrenaline dissipating almost as rapidly as his fear, the small amount of energy he had been working with threatened to abandon him completely.  The ground shifted underneath him causing him to stumble sideways as he shuffled to the doors.  Daniel reached toward the glass to steady himself and half stepped, half tumbled inside the small store, the jangling of the bells tied to the door handle attracting the attention of the chubby, young girl behind the counter.  She looked up from the book she had been reading and immediately scowled at him.

"The restroom's for customers only." She informed him. "And no, I can't spare no change so you can just go right back outside."

"I don't need any change." He croaked, his throat nearly too dry to speak. "I just need to know where I am."

"What do you mean?" she asked, confusion and suspicion apparent in her expression as she stood up from the stool behind the counter.

"What state is this?"

"Can't you tell?  It's Hawaii." She said, settling back on the stool apparently having decided he was either drunk or high. "Unless you're going to buy something I suggested you get out of here before I call the cops."

"I know how I look." He said, shuffling toward the counter, tugging at the bottom of his soiled t-shirt and glancing at his filthy hands. "I don't want any trouble I…" The room swayed again interrupting his train of thought and he reached out to steady himself on the edge of the counter. "I just need to know where I am so I can call for help."

"Austin, Nevada." She said scowling at him again, but this time with what looked to be a twinge of concern.

"Where is that…exactly?" he asked, attempting to ignore the incredibly inviting smell of fried chicken and soggy fries being baked under a heat lamp in a glass box near the counter.

"Out in the middle of nowhere." She shrugged. "By the 305 - 50 interchange."

She wasn't making much sense to him with the exception of the comment about being out in the middle of nowhere.  He wasn't sure if it was because she was making too many assumptions about how well he knew the area or because with the strength draining steadily out of him he was finding it hard to continue standing let alone thinking.

"305-50?"

"Highway 305 and Interstate 50." She clarified. "You know, you don't really look too good.  You should probably see a doctor."

"Probably." He agreed recycling the information she had given him in his head intending to repeat it all to Jack, hoping he could make enough sense of it to find him. "Thank you." He offered as he turned to shuffled back out to the pay phone hopefully before he collapsed in a heap.

"Do you want some water or something?" she asked, her book and skepticism abandoned.  "I mean, not like the bottled kind, but I've got a sink in back."

"I would. Thank you." He croaked offering her a weary smile.

She nodded and headed to the far end of the counter, pausing for a moment, eyes darting from the cash register to Daniel before apparently deciding he was no threat to her cash drawer and disappearing from the room. 

Daniel had intended to stay standing exactly where he was, patiently waiting for the water he so desperately needed, but his body had other ideas.  His legs no longer willing to support him wobbled then buckled leading him to decide it might be a good idea to sit down before he fell down.  Sliding to the floor he rested his back against the counter and closed his eyes opening them again when he heard the girl come back into the room.

"Here you…" she began, obviously confused by his disappearance. "What the hell?  Oh great…"

"Down here." Daniel croaked, the girl appearing from behind the counter seconds later, a plastic cup in hand.

"What are you doing?"

"I just need to rest for a minute." He explained.

"Well you can't do it here." She informed him. "Here." She handed him the cup of water and he poured it eagerly down his throat, gulping and sputtering, draining it in a fraction of a second.

"Thank you." He repeated, his voice a little less gravely. "Do you have any more?"

"A whole faucet full." She said, taking the cup from him. "What happened to you?" she asked, seeing the red patch that covered the inside of his wrist as well as his torn hands.

"Long story." He replied, glancing at them himself. "I need to get to the phone." He informed her suddenly remembering why he had bothered to come into the store in the first place. "I need to call Jack."

Daniel tried unsuccessfully to heft himself up from the checkered tile floor, arms trembling, body straining from the effort, but making almost no progress.

"I think you need a lot more than a phone, Mister." She observed before setting the empty cup on the counter and grabbing one of his arms just below the shoulder, tugging him to his feet.  Daniel swayed unsteadily and nearly went right back to the floor, before the girl grabbed him around the waist, holding him up, blushing furiously when she looked up at him to find her face mere inches from his.

"I, uh, have a cot in the back.  You can rest for a few minutes if you want."

"Thank you…again." He said.

The girl nodded, turning her face from him, though he wasn't sure if it was in embarrassment or from the stench.  After a week without a shower and the better part of the last half hour in very close proximity to a dumpster he could only imagine how he smelled. 

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>                       <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Tyler sat behind his computer furiously punching keys.  All evidence tying him to Jackson had been destroyed as well as Stilman's far too detailed notes.  There was nothing left, but a mound of finely shredded paper that had been reduced to confetti sized pieces.  The gallon of water he had poured over the remains would guarantee no one would ever be able to decipher what had once been a very incriminating pile of information. 

            Typing in the last few digits of his security code he forced himself to remain calm despite the fury boiling just under the surface.  The confirmation of a very well supplied Swiss bank account settled his temper a little.  It was supposed to have bankrolled Jackson's continued interrogation followed by purchasing the silence of the head of a comfortable, though not extravagant, mental hospital on some far corner of the planet where the good doctor would have lived out his remaining years after having donated the bulk of his mental capacity to Tyler's cause. 

Now, however, the nest egg embezzled from the NID budget would be funding Tyler's escape to the former Soviet block where he would meet up with his deep cover agents and join in their infiltration of the Soviet Stargate program.  He wouldn't, however, be going totally empty handed.  He had in his possession a set of CDs with enough information on alien technology to keep a team of scientists busy for decades, the entire store of the NID's knowledge on the subject.  By the time he was finished the Soviet program would far exceed that of the United States.  Without the ethical restraints General Hammond insisted on imposing the sky was the limit.

            Tyler went over the checklist in his mind one more time satisfied that everything was in place.  They hadn't found Jackson yet, a fact that didn't entirely surprise him.  He didn’t have the time to search the entire complex on his own and it wasn't exactly a detail of top-level soldiers he was working with.  They were just a bunch of empty-headed drones, most of them holding onto the illusion that they had a future in the higher levels of the military.  So far he hadn't seen anything to support it.  Lazy incompetence didn't get you much beyond Captain.  It was just as well.  There would be no need to regret what he was about to do.

            The facility that had been serving his purposes so well wasn't exactly top secret.  In fact, half the country knew about the nearly complete nuclear waste storage facility.  That knowledge was the reason it had been closed down less than a year from completion.  No one wanted a glow in the dark landfill in their backyard.

Because of the high probability of visits from fanatical environmentalists it had been designed to be secure and heavily guarded, but there had certainly been no need for something like a self-destruct feature.  So Tyler had installed one of his own.  This one, however, wasn't designed to destroy the building just the human inhabitants.  He typed the code into his laptop, setting the timer that would tie up all of his loose ends.  Most likely Jackson was still hiding out in the air vents.  If that was the case he would be the first to go.  Unfortunate since it would most likely mean he would be turning up again alive and well and fully reincarnated in the not too distant future with a very incriminating story to tell.  However, by the time they came looking for him Tyler would be long gone having disappeared into the wide underground world of espionage.

            Tyler closed the laptop and disconnected it from its port before stuffing it in the satchel with the few other things he would need in the Ukraine's frostbitten landscape, one ripe with potential.  He had three minutes to clear the area before the gas was released followed by a shower of sulfuric acid that would rain down from the specially designed fire sprinkler system destroying most of the physical evidence left behind.

Unfortunately, it wasn't going to be as neat and clean as he had hoped.  Two of the soldiers would escape thanks to a badly timed trip back to Nellis for supplies, but that couldn't be helped.

            Striding quickly from his office he ordered the men at the main sentry station to abandon their post and join in the search for Dr. Jackson, sending them deeper into the facility.  Then climbing into the remaining SUV he drove out into the desert without bothering to look back.

            >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>      <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            Jack's knee bounced continuously as they made their final approach to the tiny airstrip in what looked like Middle of Nowhere, Nevada.  Damn, but Daniel was good at getting himself into things. 

Jack had had his suspicions about Tyler's interrogation from the moment the little weasel had first presented the idea.  Still even with all his warnings to Hammond that something wasn't right he had never imagined the nightmare it had mutated into.  Not in a million years.  Daniel missing then dead then missing then apparently beat to hell or at least close enough to have him asking someone else to make the call for help.

The young girl had contacted him nearly two hours ago asking if he knew a man named Daniel Jackson.  She had sounded flustered, nervous, anxious and when he had asked to talk to Daniel she had told him he wasn't in good enough shape to make it to the phone.  Jack had been racing toward Hammond's office seconds later and had the remaining members of SG-1 loaded into a compact Lear jet half an hour after that. 

His stomach had been churning the entire trip and it had nothing to do with being bounced around the sky in what looked like an over grown remote controlled airplane.  Finding Daniel in pieces so soon after his return to Earth, not to mention human form, was not something Jack had been prepared to deal with.  They had just gotten him back and already they were having to drag him out of the middle of a catastrophe.  Jack was trying not to let his imagination fill in the blanks where Daniel's condition was concerned, but the only topic that seemed to keep his mind occupied with any amount of success was Tyler and that was doing nothing to settle him. 

If Tyler was smart he was on a plane headed out of the country and safely out of Jack's reach because if Daniel was even half as roughed up as he suspected, he intended to find that smooth talking little slime ball and rearrange his anatomy.     

Hands clenched into fists that were pressed firmly into his thighs he waited until he felt the almost smooth contact of wheels on tarmac before unfastening his seatbelt.  He was half way out of his seat before the plane finally rolled to a stop at the end of the runway.  Without bothering to wait for the pilot who seemed perfectly willing to take his sweet time, Jack shuffled down the aisle, hunched over to keep from smacking his head on the very low ceiling and opened the single door on the plane.  One that became a very convenient set of steps when fully extended. 

With Jack leading the way, SG-1 poured out of the plane, the aircraft trembling minutely as Teal'c moved his large frame down the length of it before squeezing out the door.  Immediately the group piled into an old suburban that belonged to the local Sheriff's Department and with lights flashing sped in the direction of the convenience store.  Dirt road turned to pavement, which led to a freeway, the vehicle's speed increasing with every mile, scenery Jack wasn't even remotely interested in, flying by.  They finally pulled into the moderately sized gas station at about the same time Jack had reached his capacity for suspense.  He'd had his fill of trying to remain calm while they were shuffled from vehicle to vehicle, racing at top speed toward a destination that was beginning to feel out of reach. 

His door was open before the suburban rolled to a stop in front of a convenience store sporting two deputies who stood just outside the entrance attempting to look official.  The squad cars parked haphazardly in front of the building still had lights lazily turning and most likely had since Hammond's call two hours ago requesting that local law enforcement stand guard.  Jack was out of the vehicle in a heartbeat eager to bring the nightmare to a close.  He bristled, much the same way he did around over eager cadets, as the deputies immediately yanked the doors open, gaping at them in something akin to reverence as Jack strode into the store, Sam and Teal'c trailing in his wake.  An annoyed looking girl behind the counter glanced up from her magazine as a tangle of bells announced their arrival, her expression confirming Jack's suspicion that the deputies had been in place for some time, most likely throwing their weight around in the name of National security.

"Can I help you?" she asked without even a hint of willingness to do anything more than glare at them.

"I'm Colonel Jack O'Neill." He announced.

He saw recognition flash in her face at the sound of his name, but the look was immediately covered by suspicion.

"Can I see some ID?" she asked.

"Of course." He produced his ID card more pleased than annoyed by the request.

"Who are they?" she nodded toward Sam and Teal'c.

"Friends of Daniel.  They're with me."

She studied them for a moment longer. "He's back here."

Finally getting up from her stool and abandoning her magazine, she led the small entourage through a door marked "Employees".  Nestled in a back corner of a room barely bigger than a walk in closet, wedged between a cluttered desk and a set of shelves piled high with toilet paper and cleaning supplies lay Daniel.  He was stretched out on a cot, a wool blanket covering his lower half.  In the dim light it was hard to make out much in the way of details, but he seemed to be in one piece and for the time being that was good enough.

"He's been out since I called you." The girl explained in hushed tones as the group looked down at the sleeping man. "I gave him some water and he asked for food, but he fell asleep before he could eat it."

"How did he get here?" Jack asked.

"Just stumbled through the front door." She shrugged. "I thought he was a bum at first.  We get those sometimes.  Those guys who hitch up and down the highway with the cardboard signs and stuff.  You know?  But then he said he needed help.  Didn't know where he was.  That kind of thing.  It sounded like he'd been through something so I figured I'd better help him out."

"We appreciate it." Sam replied.

"So what happened to him?" the girl asked.

"We don't know yet.  He's been missing for a couple of days."

"Like kidnapped or something?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Something like that." Sam replied.

"Daniel." Jack gently shook him, the cot quietly creaking as Daniel shifted with the motion, but remained asleep.

"Is he breathing?" Sam asked.

"It looks like it."

"Should I call an ambulance?" the girl asked.

"Daniel, come on." Jack insisted, jostling him harder. "Up and at 'em."

Daniel shifted in his sleep, arms that had been wrapped around him settling on the cot, tucked close to his chest.  Sam noticed the bandages wrapped around both palms.

"What happened?" she asked, crouching closer to him and looking back up at the girl.

"Oh, I bandaged his hands while he was asleep.  They're pretty torn up.  I didn't know what to do about the burns, though so I left them alone."

"Burns?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, on his wrists." The girl said. "I couldn't remember if you bandage burns like that or leave them alone.  I didn't want the bandage to stick to them, you know?  They look kind of bad."

Sam reached out and carefully took hold of one of Daniel's hands, gently pulling his arm away from his body.  The raw, red patch on the inside of his wrist made her wince, Jack grinding his teeth behind her.

"Let's get him out of here." Jack commanded. "T, can you carry him?"

"Daniel?" Sam shook him gently, a hand on his shoulder.

Slowly, almost reluctantly his eyes crept open, blinking at her several times before familiarity seemed to settle over his features.

"Sam?"

"Hi." She smiled.

"Where am I?" he asked, his speech slurred.

"Hole in the Ground, Nevada." Jack announced. "Nice place you found here."

"Jack?"

"We heard you were in town.  Thought we'd drop by." He said.

"Took you long enough." Daniel replied attempting to sit up on the cot, but barely able to raise his head. "Wanna give me a hand?" he asked.

"You OK?" Sam asked as Teal'c gently lifted him into a sitting position.

"Jus' peachy." He replied, head lolling toward his chest.

"Can you walk?" Jack asked.

"Doubt it." He grumbled.

"Maybe we should get him to a local hospital and have him checked out, Sir.  It's a long trip back." Sam suggested.

"Teal'c you grab him.  Let's see if we can convince a couple of these deputies to make themselves useful." He said before striding out into the store. "Alright, listen up, boys.  This is what's happening."

                        >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>   <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

            A sudden knocking at the door startled Daniel from the Sunday paper he had been engrossed in, sections of it scattered across his bed.  He had been back at the SGC for only two days after having spent about the same amount of time in a small hospital in Nevada.  His return to the base he called home had been followed by a thorough going over by Janet who had declared him weak and abused, but on the mend.  Certainly well enough to be left to his own devices in his quarters.

            "Come in." he called, watching as Jack appeared through the door.

            "How's it going?"

            "Good.  You?"

            "Good." Jack nodded.

            "Shouldn't you be home?" Daniel asked, frowning up at him. "It is Sunday, isn't it?"

            "Yep.  Grab your shoes."

            "Why?"

            "I guess you can come barefoot if you want.  Makes no difference to me."

            "Come where?"

            "Barbecue.  My house.  Steaks are thawed, game comes on at 2:00.  Need to pick up some beer on the way back, though, so get a move on.  Sam and Teal'c are watching the grill until we get back."

            "Ah." Daniel smiled, easing himself up off the bed.

            "Shoes?" Jack asked, glancing around the room, following Daniel's pointing finger to a spot by the door. "Jacket?"

            "Closet."

            "Great let's go." He said, holding Daniel's shoes in one hand and opening the door with the other.

            "Can I put them on?"

            "In the truck.  Teal'c likes his steak well done and if I'm gone too long he's going to char broil all of them.  I don't want to spend the afternoon chewing on a piece of charcoal that was once a prime cut of beef…maybe we'll stop by the house before we get the beer." He said, closing the door and hustling Daniel toward the elevator.