Title: Old Debts 3: Search
and Rescue
Author: MajelB
E-Mail: majelitab@lycos.com
Status: WIP
Category:
action/adventure, h/c, angst, drama
Spoilers: Fair Game,
Tok’ra, Foothold
Season: 3, after FIAD, but
before A Hundred Days
Series: Old Debts
Rating: R
Content Warnings: milder
language in this one, but more violence
Summary: While Sam has to
fend for herself, the guys pay the price for her escape.
Sam wandered through the
seemingly endless series of Tok’ra tunnels with an increasing sense of
desperation. She was cold, hungry, tired, and alone. She wished she had her
watch. No, wait, she didn’t. Chances were, it would have become an obsession
by then, and her mind was wandering enough as it was. She should have found
something by now. It wasn’t like this tunnel could go on forever, was it?
*
*
*
*
Teal’c woke from his
kel’nor’reem feeling refreshed and strong. He was ready to face the
challenges that he was sure the day would bring. He took in his surroundings,
noting his companions, still asleep on the ground. Teal’c was pleased that his
friends had been able to get some rest. Perhaps learning that Major Carter was
alive had contributed to their peace of mind, as it had for him.
Daniel Jackson stirred. He
opened his eyes and closed them again quickly, as though he thought he was still
dreaming. He groaned as he rubbed them furiously, realizing that he was not, in
fact, still asleep.
“Daniel Jackson, are you
well?”
“Teal’c? Um, yeah.
You?” Daniel asked, sitting up. He spared a glance over at Jack, who was still
out cold. Hmmm. He was usually the first one up.
“I am indeed well,
Daniel Jackson. I was able to complete several hours of kel’nor’reem.”
“Uh. Good.” Daniel
paused, just looking around. He’d only been awake for two minutes and he was
already bored. Peachy. He actually considered waking Jack up just to make things
more interesting.
Then again, he really had
enough unpleasant thoughts floating around his head to keep him occupied for a
good while, considering where and under what circumstances he was.
“Hey, Teal’c, I
don’t suppose you have any field rations on you, by chance?” Daniel then
queried, suddenly very aware of the pangs in his stomach. How long had it been
since that Hershey bar? Teal’c raised an eyebrow.
“I do not.” Teal’c
replied, expertly hiding his own disappointment. He was famished, but he would never
show it.
The two men went silent
again, allowing them to hear perfectly, the approach of footsteps in the
corridor outside. Daniel hoped they were about to get breakfast, or at least
some water. Teal’c was not so confident.
“O’Neill!” Teal’c
hissed loudly. Daniel gave him a look that said ‘what the hell are you
doing’ in any language, confused as to why Teal’c would disrupt his
friend’s peaceful slumber. “O’Neill!” he said again, a bit louder. The
colonel stirred a bit. Teal’c rose and made his way toward O’Neill and
Daniel Jackson, as the footfalls outside became louder and louder. Teal’c
shook him. “O’Neill, Jaffa approach.”
Jack woke up with a start,
a bit confused at first, but recovering quickly as his brain booted itself up.
“Teal’c? Daniel? What’s goin’ on?”
“There’s some guards
outside, Jack,” was all Daniel managed to get out before the door was opened
and several very large and angry looking Jaffa entered the cell.
“You will come with
us!” the lead Jaffa boomed, as his subordinates passed him and moved to
restrain the three men. Teal’c stood as Daniel knelt to help Jack up.
Apparently, they weren’t quick enough for their benevolent hosts. One Jaffa
grabbed Daniel by the upper arm violently, pulling him away from Jack as another
yanked Jack up off the ground by his jacket collar.
“Hey, hey! We’re comin’.
No need to get pushy,” Jack commented, as his hands were restrained behind
him. He looked over at Daniel and Teal’c and noticed that they were getting
the same treatment. At least these Jaffa were consistent.
*
*
*
*
“Finally!” Sam
breathed as the literal and figurative light at the end of the tunnel came into
view. Energized by adrenaline, she marched triumphantly toward it.
The opening was small…
just large enough for her to fit her body through, she imagined as she
cautiously peered out. To her surprise, and horror, she could see the Stargate
and DHD a short distance away. No wonder the tunnel seemed to go on forever. The
devices were closely guarded by quite a large contingent of Jaffa and at the
bottom of the steps leading up to the gate, she could make out what was left of
a MALP. It had pretty much been blown to bits. So much for a rescue party.
Hammond would never send a team through such a heavily guarded gate. They
would be on their own. She was on her own. In the immortal words of
Colonel O’Neill, she thought, this sucks.
Sam had to think for a
minute. She had no weapons, no GDO, no team, no rescue. She couldn’t dial home
because if she tried to get to the gate, she would most likely be shot. Again.
She shivered at the thought. Sam moved away from the opening and deeper into the
tunnel. Suddenly feeling totally spent, she slid down a crystalline blue wall
into a tired heap, wanting desperately to just sit there and cry, but not
finding the energy.
She wished the Colonel
were there. He’d know what to do. Daniel and Teal’c would come in handy
too—working together the team always managed to get out of tight spots. Sam
let out a dismal laugh. If they had all been with her, she wouldn’t even be
having this conversation with… well, with herself.
C’mon, Carter. You
think. That’s what you do. Think. Sam
smiled at the unbidden voice of the Colonel in her head. The guys were counting
on her.
What could she do?
She had the tunnel. The opening to the outside was well hidden and she could
probably slip out and into the woods without being seen. She could backtrack and
find the base on the planet’s surface. Then what? Break back in?
Actually… that might
work. She thought back to the
foothold situation a few months ago. The Cheyenne Mountain Complex was designed
to keep people out, not in. That’s why she’d been able to make
it off the mountain so easily. Prisons were just the opposite, designed
to keep people in instead of out. Surely, Cronos wouldn’t expect
her to try and break back in. He thought she would try and get home, hence the
overkill with the Jaffa at the gate. If she got back in, she could find the guys
and their gear. Although, there was also that pesky little possibility that she
would get caught.
We’ll cross that
bridge when we come to it. Sam
stood, mind made up. She couldn’t just sit in the tunnel waiting to be
discovered. She had to do something, and so far, that was all she could think
of. She walked back to the opening and shimmied through the small hole. She
carefully surveyed her surroundings, staying low and hidden, before sprinting
into the forest. She disappeared into the trees.
*
*
*
*
Sam’s head had lost its
connection to her body hours ago. It felt like hours, anyway. She couldn’t
even feel her feet pounding on the hard dirt of the forest’s floor. The only
clues to her that she was still running were the repeated thuds of her boots
hitting the ground in rapid succession. She wasn’t even entirely sure where
she was going, anymore.
It seemed all she could do
was sit back and let her instincts take over… and sit back she did. She was
practically asleep on her feet.
She knew she should stop,
that she needed to rest, but she also knew that if she sat down, she probably
wouldn’t get back up. If she lost her momentum, she would never get it back.
So she kept running.
You’re almost there,
Sam. She slowed at the soft
insistence of the little voice in her head, and soon became aware of sounds
other than her own ragged breathing. The clank of armor, the footfalls of heavy
metal boots, voices. Unmistakable. She was close.
Then she heard it. It
sickened her, permeated her being, like sandpaper to her ears. Cronos was
speaking. Sam was still a bit too far away to clearly make out what was being
said. She managed to get the gist, though, his tone betraying his foul mood. She
thought she heard her name as she crawled through the brush to get closer to the
clearing ahead without being seen.
Cronos’ sprawling
fortress finally came into view as she crested a small hill and looked down into
the shallow valley below. She poked her head up above the bush she was hiding
behind for a split second, and quickly became very aware of her error in
judgment. There were Jaffa everywhere. If she thought there were a lot
guarding the gate, there was a veritable gaggle still here at the fortress. And
she was poking her blonde head up and directly into their line of sight.
Sam ducked down again,
looking around the forest floor. Luckily, she found exactly what she was
seeking. There was a small puddle in the dirt about ten feet away. She crawled
toward it and ran her hand through the thicker mud surrounding the water.
Perfect. She cupped her hand, filled it with the brown glop, and proceeded to
lather it into her hair. Well, it’s not exactly Nice ‘N Easy, but it’ll
do. Her hair effectively turned dark brown. She grabbed up a small pile of
leaves and wove them into the mess on her head, too, for good measure. She took
a little more mud and smudged it on her face, hands, and BDU’s. Sam was
already starting to feel invisible.
Satisfied with her
transformation, Sam turned back toward the fortress, again. Something was
happening in the courtyard that she needed to see. As she crept to within
earshot of the base, she could hear Cronos more clearly. It sounded like he was
interrogating someone. A shiver ran down her spine.
She finally found a place
where she could situate herself and see what was going on without being seen.
She climbed into the low branches of a large, full-leafed tree and peered
through the foliage.
Upon first glance, her
worst fears were realized. Cronos was, indeed, interrogating someone. Three
someones, in fact.
Despite her terror at
seeing them in such bad shape, she was elated at seeing them at all. She looked
at each man’s face in turn. Daniel looked tired. His glasses were gone and
replaced by rings of puffy black and blue-ness and a slight trickle of blood was
flowing from his nose.
Teal’c’s eyes betrayed
to her what no one other than the members of SG-1 would be able to discern—he
was in pain. He was tired and hurting, but his face was stoic as ever. Where did
he find his motivation?
The Colonel was speaking,
though it was a bit too soft for her to understand. He had a lopsided grin
pasted onto his bruised and bloodied face. He must have been making some kind of
rude and sarcastic comment for Cronos’ benefit because he had earned himself a
series of hard punches to his stomach. Sam winced sympathetically with each
blow, but was encouraged that he managed to keep his head up despite their
obviously having been thoroughly worked over.
Each of her teammates was
standing shirtless, back against his very own large timber post planted firmly
in the ground. Their arms were pulled behind them, around the posts, and tied,
effectively rendering them immobile. Their torsos were covered with bruises and
Teal’c’s pouch looked enflamed and irritated. Hurt the symbiote, hurt
him, she guessed.
Cronos was talking again,
very softly. He had leaned in by Daniel’s head, whispering something in his
ear. Daniel grimaced in disgust at the Goa’uld’s proximity and Cronos
laughed, lifted his ribbon-device-clad hand, and struck the already raw skin of
Daniel’s face. Sam could almost hear the contact between the metal of the
device and her friend’s jaw. She couldn’t watch this anymore.
Just as she was turning to
climb down and start working on a plan to free her team, Cronos called her name.
She froze and slowly turned back to look down into the courtyard again. Had he
seen her?
“Samantha Carter,” he
called again. He had his arms outspread, palms up, seeming to beckon to her, as
he slowly turned around, eyes searching the tree line. Sam breathed a sigh of
relief. Her hiding place was still hidden.
“Do you see what you
have caused your friends to endure, Samantha? All because you wouldn’t tell me
what I wanted to know, all because you chose to disrespect my hospitality by
departing. Do you see what you have caused?” Sam shuddered and bit her lower
lip, fighting back a choked sob. She saw, alright.
She saw that all of this
was for her benefit alone. Cronos had had her figured out from the start. He
knew that she wouldn’t stay away for long, not if he had the rest of her team
in custody. He had known that she’d come back for them and now he was trying
to lure her out. Was she that transparent or had he taken Tau’ri Psychology
101 in Goa’uld Prep-School?
Cronos was still walking
around the clearing, inspecting its perimeter, patiently awaiting a response.
When his back was turned to the men, the Colonel directed his gaze in her
direction, seeming to stare straight at her. Her eyes widened. Did he see her or
was he just staring at an arbitrary point in the trees? She saw the colonel nod
almost imperceptibly in response to her silent query. Man, he was good. She
smiled back broadly, trying to send her friend the message that she was okay and
that they would be, too.
The Colonel’s face
turned to stone the instant Cronos spun back around to look at his prisoners. He
hesitated for a moment, an evil grin playing at the corners of his mouth, before
striding over to Jack. Cronos snaked his hand around the back of Jack’s head
and wove his fingers into his graying hair, tightly curling it into his fingers.
Jack took in a sharp breath as Cronos yanked his head back at a painful-looking
angle. Sam watched as their enemy brought his face down to within inches of her
CO’s, eyes glowing and staring straight into the Colonel’s, no doubt trying
to intimidate him. He was speaking in a low, distorted voice, and after a
moment, the Colonel choked out a reply.
Cronos released his grip
and the Colonel took a couple of breaths before cocking his head toward Daniel
and Teal’c, no doubt to silently ask their opinion on something. Seeming to
have gotten his answer, the Colonel opened his mouth.
*
*
*
*
Jack inhaled sharply as
Cronos practically pulled his hair from his scalp, forcing his head and neck
into a rather awkward and painful position.
“Order her to reveal
herself, human, or you will all be punished in her stead. What of your
companions, Tau’ri? Do you wish for Jackson and the Shol’va to continue to
suffer for your arrogance?” Cronos hissed, his face and glowing eyes hovering
inches from Jack’s.
Gotta buy time, Jack.
Just buy some time. Carter was still
out there. She was safe and she knew where they were. All she needed was a
little more time. If Cronos managed to convince her to turn herself in, he
highly doubted that he would be as merciful as he was trying to make him believe
he could be. That, and they’d all be in deep shit. No, there was no way in
hell he was gonna order her to come out. If anything it would be just the
opposite, but he needed a chance to tell her…
“Okay. Just let go!”
he coughed, trying to sound pained and pitiful. The snakehead bought it and let
go of his head. Jack took some deep ‘recovery’ breaths to stall long enough
to check on Daniel and Teal’c. One look told him that they knew he wasn’t
about to betray Carter and that they’d kill him if he ever did.
Okay, Jack. Showtime.
“Carter,” he shouted,
ignoring Cronos’ satisfied and smug expression. Cronos looked away from Jack,
again, and stared back out into the trees. Jack found Carter’s hiding spot and
stared straight at her barely visible face so she knew, without a doubt, that he
meant business. “Under no circumstances are you to show yourself, Major!
That’s an order!” He kept his eyes on her just long enough to see her mouth
drop open in protest, followed by an understanding nod as she saw the logic of
his decision.
Before the words were even
out of his mouth, Cronos was upon him. He had already marched up to one of the
Jaffa guards, relieving him of his Zat. Cronos approached him, and Jack braced
himself, hoping to God that he hadn’t just killed his team. Cronos’ eyes
were aflame as he activated the weapon and aimed for Jack’s head. Just as he
was about to fire, he swiveled and re-aimed at Teal’c. He pulled the trigger
and Teal’c let out a short cry, writhing in electric agony, before slumping
over, unconscious.
Jack was so surprised,
that he let out a loud “Hey!” to try and draw attention back to himself.
Daniel looked at Jack, face betraying only the slightest measure of panic as
their eyes met. Cronos smirked at their reaction, enjoying it. He pointed the
Zat at Daniel and fired again. Jack was beside himself with fury. He struggled
with the ropes on his wrists frantically, positively twitching with desire to
make Cronos suffer.
Cronos turned the weapon
back on Jack, delighted by his distress. “Do you see it now, Tau’ri? Do you
see that I am in control? That it is in my hands whether you live
or die?” Jack stopped moving long enough to spit in his face. Cronos pulled
the trigger.
*
*
*
*
This is not happening
this is not happening this is not happening this is not happening this is not
happening … The steady cadence
beat through her mind, a mantra of denial. It was mind over matter. If she
didn’t believe that what she was seeing was real, then it wasn’t. That was
the way it was supposed to work, anyway.
Sam slumped against the
trunk of the tree she was still perched in, physically and emotionally drained.
She closed her eyes and counted to ten, taking in slow, calculated, calming
breaths. When she opened them again, she saw her friends, still hunched over
from the Zat blasts. Reluctantly, she tore her eyes from them to survey the rest
of the courtyard.
By then, the sun was
rapidly setting on the horizon behind her, and even in the receding light, Sam
could make out the looming figures of only two Jaffa. Apparently, Cronos had
taken all the others back into the compound with him.
Finally, she had a glimmer
of hope. Two Jaffa weren’t that bad. They were even on opposite sides of the
courtyard. Bonus. Theoretically, she could take them out, one at a time, without
the other knowing about it. Sam sighed. She didn’t envy the Colonel his time
in Black Ops, but in situations like this, she really wished she’d had the
training he did. This was going to require some serious sneaking around.
*
*
*
*
Sam waited impatiently for
the opportunity to put her plan into motion. It had finally gotten dark and the
courtyard was lit only by the full moon overhead. Sam’s eyes had already
adjusted to the darkness and she could easily make out the shadows of her
friends who had finally begun to stir. It would have been useless to try and
free them while they were still unconscious, so she had chosen to wait, using
the time to rest a bit herself in the branches of her tree.
The two guards had not
changed their positions in the half-hour or so since they had begun their watch,
and Sam decided to make her move.
As lightly and quietly as
she could, she slid out of the tree and onto the soft dirt surrounding it,
immediately ducking into the cover of the nearby brush. For the moment, she
ignored the guard standing at the courtyard gate nearest to her, opting instead
to neutralize the one at the gate on the far end of the yard first and then make
her way back around.
Sam crept noiselessly
around the compound, slipping from one bush to the next, jumping from behind one
tree to another, maintaining a safe distance, but keeping her target in sight.
The darkness effectively concealed her, but made her journey more difficult, and
by the time she reached her destination, her still muddy face and hands and her
exposed back were covered with tiny scratches and lacerations from the thorny
fauna.
As she neared the Jaffa,
she picked up the largest, heaviest fallen branch she could find—and
carry—and hefted it in her right hand. She continued on, then, carefully
stepping around the twigs and dry leaves littering the ground. She moved so
slowly. Her heart was beating out of her chest and she was so close to the Jaffa
that she feared he would be able to hear the thumping as clearly as she could.
She was behind him, three
steps away. Two steps away. She gripped her club like a baseball bat and held
her breath. One step. Sam mustered all the strength she had left in her abused
body and struck the Jaffa with a rather impressive blow to the head. He slumped
over and began to fall. Shifting her weight, Sam managed to maneuver herself
under him, catching him and slowly guiding the lifeless body to the ground
before his armor had a chance to clang together too loudly.
Sam allowed herself a
second to start breathing again before leaning down and checking the guard’s
pulse. She didn’t find one. Christ, I killed him! She thought briefly,
momentarily forgetting that he was her enemy. That he stood between her and her
friends. Killing… over all her time in the military, it had never gotten any
easier for her.
Sam blinked herself out of
her reverie, chastising herself for losing focus, and gripped the dead man’s
ankles. She dragged the body into the woods and said a silent prayer for his
soul as she relieved him of his knife and Zat. She then covered him with leaves
and branches to conceal him from any passers-by. Sam retrieved her club and made
her way back around the courtyard to take care of the other guard.
Retracing her steps, the
return trip passed quickly, as Sam was able to knowingly avoid the more
hazardous obstacles. Her heart was back to trying to escape from the confines of
her ribcage with renewed zest and the fact that she finally had some weapons on
her didn’t really help her morale.
She approached the Jaffa
as slowly as she had the first, but not quite as carefully. Her eyes were glued
to his back instead of on the ground. She was only a meter away from him, when
beneath her foot, a twig snapped. She froze. The sound had been barely audible,
even to her, but the Jaffa had heard it loud and clear. He spun his staff in a
close-quarters defensive posture, turning himself to face the direction from
which the foreign sound had emanated.
The staff nearly hit Sam
squarely in the stomach, but somehow she had been ready for it. As the Jaffa
spun, Sam turned into the blow, catching the weapon’s shaft, battling its
owner for control. The Jaffa had not expected the intruder to be so close to
him, and was surprised when he saw Sam hanging onto his staff for dear life.
The guard was, expectedly,
far stronger than Sam, and easily knocked her to the ground, but she managed to
hang onto the staff with both hands and pull him down with her. As he fell, she
kicked up into his abdomen with both feet, wrenching the weapon from his grip as
she did. He faltered, but recovered quickly, kicking the staff out of Sam’s
hands before she had the chance to stand.
Before she knew what had
happened, the Jaffa had drawn his knife and straddled her, trapping her legs
under his weight. Her right hand was still free and she desperately grabbed for
her opponent’s weapon as he brought it down toward her neck. With her left
had, she felt frantically at her hip for her own blade.
At the same moment, her
fingers curled around her knife’s handle and the Jaffa’s hand broke free
from her grip. In a last ditch effort, she swatted at his hand, knocking his
trajectory off. The blade slid effortlessly into the muscle of her upper left
arm. Sam bit back a scream and gritted her teeth as she pulled her knife from
its sheath and thrust it up into his larva pouch. Stunned, the Jaffa froze, then
leaned back on his heels. Sam winced and drew a sharp breath as he let his full
weight rest on her knees, examining his wound with morbid curiosity.
He looked, then, at
Sam’s face. He hadn’t uttered a sound yet, but his eyes searched hers for
some explanation. He could not fathom how he could have failed so miserably. Sam
held his gaze and the night stood still. He looked back down at his abdomen, at
the hand that still held onto the knife embedded in him. His face twitched in
disbelief just as his eyes rolled back into his head. He lurched sideways, the
knife pulling out of the wound as Sam held fast to it, blood dripping onto her
shirt and pooling there as he fell to the ground.
After what seemed like an
eternity, Sam finally remembered to start breathing again. She realized that she
still had a knife in her hand and, disgusted by what she had had to do with it,
she threw it into the woods. Sam battled to control her breathing and her wildly
erratic heartbeat, still lying under the dead Jaffa.
Dazedly, she extricated
herself, wriggling little by little from under him. She felt herself stand and
hone in on her goal. She walked through the now untended gate into the
courtyard.
Okay, guys, we’re in the
home stretch, now. It’s been a long trip, though, and I really need a morale
boost. Please oh please oh please send me some feedback so I know how
I’m doing! The more love I get, the faster I type!
Back to Old Debts 2: Standing Tall
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