When she woke up the next morning she felt like someone had run her over with the heaviest of machinery. This was in addition to feeling guilty about falling asleep on the job, since she was supposed to be keeping watch.

/*I needed you heal you,*/ Asreal said in excuse.

"You... didn't do a great job," she groaned as she stood up and attempted to stretch the million kinks out of her muscles.

/*Well, considering that I had to keep alert enough if something happened, can you really blame me?*/

"No, I s'pose not." De-kinked as much as was humanly possible, she sat back down beside Mac, loathe to wake him up from the healing slumber. Unfortunately, her proximity seemed to do the job adequately and he blinked up at her.

"Morning sunshine," she said dryly, looking back down at him. "How're you feeling?"

"Arrest that tank driver officer," he replied, struggling up into a sitting position (and already starting on his stubborn way by refusing her aid).

She chuckled. "If you're wondering, they didn't come after us last night."

"Let's keep it that way." This time he did accept her help to stand up.

"I don't suppose you know where the hell we are?" she asked him.

"No," he said shortly. "But let's say that Pueblo is in that direction anyway." He pointed in a random compass point and they both set off.

They'd only been walking for an hour when the rustling started. "Not again," he groaned. "I don't think I can keep this up."

"Join the club, membership's free," she replied, not even bothering to look up from the ground.

"Come on." He grabbed her hand and they broke into a jog - praying with each step that the rustling was being caused by something that was considerably shorter than eight feet that didn't look the slightest bit like a cat.

. ~*~*~

A night’s sleep - if you could call it that - saw Mackenzie more able to continue. He looked at Rhea O'Shea and was glad to see she also looked a bit brighter. All things considered, Mac felt they stood a better chance of getting their hides out of the current mess. With luck and a tail wind, anyway.

They headed in a vaguely northern direction and Mac hoped his memory wasn't failing him and that they were actually heading for Pueblo. An hour or so into their trek, rustling undergrowth caught their attention.

Mackenzie groaned, knowing neither of them was up to a return bout. "Not again," he muttered. "I don't think I can keep this up."

"Join the club, membership's free," he heard Rhea reply, with a certain lack of enthusiasm.

"Come on," he threw at her as he took hold of her hand. The rustling sounds followed them as they started to run, mirroring yesterday's actions. For all he knew, the sounds were being caused by something harmless, but he wasn't about to hang around to find out.

They pushed on, finding themselves on the other side of the cliff. Mac realized it must be a weird rock formation that jutted up light scarred tissue material in the centre of the jungle. He also knew that it couldn't be all that wide and that they were currently not all that far from Ocecotl and his cohorts. Several small openings dotted along the base of the cliff - for all he knew direct links to the activities so recently left behind on the other side.

"Keep it quiet," he whispered to Rhea as she cursed loudly after stubbing her toe. "Somehow I don't think we're totally on our own."

As if on cue, two of the cat-like creatures appeared off to their right, emerging from one of the caves. Mac tugged on Rhea's hand and the pair ducked low into the undergrowth. Mac peered slowly through the foliage and watched carefully as the enemy walked back the way they'd only just come. He glanced down at Rhea to see a pair of indignant eyes glaring up at him.

"Sorry. Guess I was a bit rough there," he conceded, removing his left hand from her mouth where he'd enforced her silence seconds ago. "We need to back up into the jungle a bit. No way can we use the trail now," he added. Mac knew they had to give the cliff a wider berth if they were to evade recapture.

As they walked away from the trail, Mackenzie muttered softly.

"What's up, boss?" Rhea asked.

He scowled at her. "Just hoping MacDonald and Diens don't get caught up with those cat guys too." The more he thought about it, the more concerned he felt.

"Dammit!" Mac stopped and turned back to face the cliff.

Rhea looked up at him in concern, certain she knew the way his thoughts were moving. "We can't. Mac. Really, we can't," she said.

"I know. But I think we're going to *have* to," he said, walking back to the nearest cave. He knew he couldn't put this behind him, while still unsure whether the others were safe. Once he was sure, they could get the hell out of here. He looked down at his companion, seeing a scared face look back at him. "You stay here," he told her. "I only want to check. No need for both of us to go." He saw her pointed stare at his hands, knowing, as did she, that he needed her... more than he'd admit to anyone.

~*~*~

"Dammit," Mac cursed, turning back to face the cliff.

Coupled with his earlier comment regarding the safety of the other two SG-15ers wandering through the jungle, she guessed what he was thinking. "We can't Mac. Really we can't."

"I know," he admitted. "But I think we're going to have to." He started walking back to the nearest cave and she automatically followed him. "You stay here. I only want to check. No need for both of us to go," he said, trying to sound authoritative, but only succeeding in sounding weary.

She shot what she hoped was a pointed glance at his hands, one bandaged, the other purple with bruising. "And you think you're going to get *how* far?" she asked sarcastically.

He just looked at her, probably hoping to stare her down about the matter, but she wasn't about to let him go anywhere. She was tired, she was scared and she was sick to death of butch. Mac was just lucky that she didn't have the energy to go along with her inclination to smack him in the head and ask him if he'd totally lost it.

"Look, even though you won't admit it, although I don't know why because Start's currently living it up in the pseudo-civilisation of Pueblo, right now you need me. Hell, you need me to pee. Doesn't this tell you something?" She spread her hands in a placating gesture. "Look, I promise that after this is over and we're all snug and sound back in Colorado I won't breath a word. Not one."

He raised an eyebrow. "Promise?"

She held her right hand up in a scout salute. "You have my word as a potential bride of Frankenstein," she replied. "Come on, let's get this over with."

He nodded silently, not even cracking a smile at her pathetic excuse for a joke, and lead the way back towards the path. However, instead of actually using it for the manner intended (since that'd just be plain stupid), they began to walk parallel to it - a much harder way to go but considerably safer. By some miracle of God, their presence wasn't noted by any of the catmen passing within ten feet of them and they were almost back at base of the cliff within an hour. From the bushes they observed the comings and goings of Ocecotl's hired goons. Even though they didn't have any clue as to how many catmen the Goa'uld had, the numbers still floating around the lair seemed a bit sparse. Rhea just figured that they were all out in hunting parties - unless, of course, they were all gathered elsewhere for a good old southern sacrifice and clambake. Her heart jumped a little bit as concern seized her, even though there was no evidence of anything out of the ordinary occurring aside from their own escape.

"It looks normal," Mac breathed in her ear. "Don't you think?"

She nodded grimly. But that didn't quell her worry over her teammates, or her fear of being their being sprung. The latter intensified slightly when she saw a part of catmen seemingly returning from the search. The lead one almost immediately stopped when he entered the clearing, lifting his snout to sniff at the air. Rhea tensed and began to back off, figuring that they were in danger of literally being sniffed out. Mac began to copy her and they sank backwards into the undergrowth...

~*~*~

Although he wasn't happy to risk Rhea's neck once more, he was glad to have her by his side. Like he'd admit that to anyone! They were currently crouching in the bushes alongside the trail, scanning for anything that may point towards their teammates being captured. Nothing. No frantic bustling around. No raised voices. No sacrificial offerings. Plain and simple, nothing seemed to be happening. Mac hoped his concerns had been groundless. That just left their own sticky predicament.

"It looks normal, don't you think?" he hissed in Rhea's ear.

He saw her nod in agreement, but he knew she was as worried as he was. Worried about the others as well as how in hell they were going to get back on the right side of the cliff and out of this mess. A hunting party joined those milling around the cliff. To Mac it looked like some of those who'd been chasing after him and Rhea. One of them...the lead one... stopped and Mac saw it sniff and twist its head around, almost staring directly at them it seemed. He could see its nostrils flaring as he peered through the undergrowth.

He felt Rhea tense and begin to move backwards. 'Great idea,' he mentally applauded her as he did likewise. As he crawled away, keeping low and silent, Mac caught a glimpse of the nasal-sensitive creature as it took a few cautious paces towards them.

Intent as they were on the activities near the cave, neither saw the catmen behind them... until it was too late. Mac had time to realize that their last attempt at escape had been a complete waste of time before darkness descended.

~*~*~

"...Foolish if you thought you could escape." Mac heard the creature say to Rhea as he woke up. Another headache blessed him as he struggled to sit. He felt Rhea's arm around his shoulders helping him. He blearily blinked to take in the figure in front of them. It could only be Ocecotl.

"You," he pointed at Rhea. "My followers tell me you have 'eyes that glow'. How is this? Who are you? Goa'uld?"

Rhea sneered slightly at the last word.

"You are Tok'ra?" The word was almost shouted at her and Mac cringed back slightly against O'Shea.

"Yes," she replied, firmly. "I am Tok’ra. Asreal of Miaro."

"Then you will not be joining those sacrifice in my honour, Tok’ra," Ocecotl threw enough venom into that single word to make Mac worry even more. "But your friend. The Tau'ri. I have no need for him," he added, making Mac's concerns pile up higher than ever. He shouted to two of his followers who hauled Mac to his feet, despite Rhea's attempts to appeal to Ocecotl. Mac stifled a groan as they held him by his injured hands.

"Tok’ra. You will be my passage off this sickening world. My appeasement to the system lords who banished me here." Ocecotl barked a command at the two creatures, which dragged a semi-conscious Mackenzie out of the cave. Mac vaguely heard Rhea calling his name and heard the panic in her voice. He knew he'd failed to keep her safe and that thought angered him more than anything else.

~*~*~

"You," Ocecotl looked right into her eyes. "My followers tell me that you have 'eyes that glow'. How is this? Who are you? Goa'uld?" Rhea remained silent, but couldn't stop a sneer from twisting her mouth. "You are Tok'ra!" The bass in the Goa'uld's voice reverberated around the chamber, almost deafening everyone. She felt Mackenzie cringe against her at the noise, it was probably a few decibels louder to him thanks to yet another blow to the head.

Tightening the arm around his shoulders, she looked the 'God' in the eye. "Yes, I am Tok'ra," she replied with a conviction that she only barely felt. "Asreal of Miaro."

//I'm not pleased to meet you,// she added silently. //In fact, right now I'd love to take a bazooka to your goons and shove some high explosives right up your jacksy for an encore performance of mindless violence.//

"Then you will not be joining those sacrificed in my honour Tok'ra." The venom in his voice caused her to flinch. "But your friend, the Tau'ri. I have no need for him." He shouted something in his own language that induced two of his goons to literally rip Mac out of her arms. She fought to keep a hold of him, but two others forced her hands behind her back. "Tok'ra, you will be my passage off this sickening world - my appeasement to the system lords who banished me here." There was yet another command to his underlings, at which point they began to drag Mac out of the room. Rhea struggled against the grips holding her in place.

"Mac! MAC!!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, hoping against hope that it'd somehow have the affect of spurring him to doing something. Anything.

"JAKE!!" Her cries took on a more desperate tone as he disappeared out of sight. She looked after him for a moment, struggling against the urge to break down and cry like a baby.

//Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God,// she thought in a mantra, all constructive thought processes immediately shutting down. Before she really knew what was happening, she too was being dragged out of the room - although her final destination was far more plush than the one Mackenzie was probably in. Tossed through the 'door' like a sack of spuds, she turned in time to see herself being locked in. She belted against the surface and screamed for a while, but when that failed to elicit any sort of reaction she fell back onto her only other option.

She crawled into a corner and burst into tears. For what was probably the first time in her entire life she felt completely and utterly alone.

~*~*~

She didn't know how long she'd been huddled in the corner, but she didn't think it had been to long an interval between her being thrown in and this point - the one where Ocecotl walked in. Struggling to her feet, she viciously wiped all traces of tears from her cheeks and plastered her most defiant look onto her face.

"You are feeling bereft without your male, aren't you Tok'ra?" the Goa'uld said in a low voice as he slowly stepped towards her.

She scooted around the edge of the room, trying to keep a significant distance between them both. "What's it to you?" she replied, taking a moment to be proud of the way she kept the shaking out of her voice.

Ocecotl kept up his slow pursuit of her. "It is nothing to me, but it is everything to you I have no doubt," he all but purred, the look in his eyes taking on a more lascivious bent.

//Do these guys have only one thing on their mind?// she thought desperately, skirting around what she assumed was furniture of some sort.

/*Pretty much,*/ Asreal replied without humour.

//That'd be right.//

She almost stumbled over a slight uneven patch in the otherwise smooth floor, and had to reach out to catch herself. It was the opening the Goa'uld had been waiting for, and he leapt across the room with all the agility of the cat he was supposed to be. He managed to get one arm around her when she began to fight back, lashing out with nails, feet and teeth.

However, there was a reason why he'd only grabbed her with one arm, something she realised quickly enough when his other hand appeared - complete with ribbon device. All she could do was stare up at the brightly glowing crystal as the device did it's job and sent a searing pain through her head. She could almost feel Asreal writhing in agony at the Tok'ra's position wrapped around her brainstem. But, all of a sudden and without any warning, he deactivated it and she collapsed against him groggily.

"That is better," he murmured. "I am the feline, not the woman I lay with."

She blinked and swallowed dryly, immediately snapped out of the usual post-ribboned brain fry. However, instead of just lashing out and trying to take Ocecotl's head off she kept up the pretence of still being affected by the ribbon device. She allowed herself to be lead over to the cushioned hole in the ground that probably served as the Goa'uld's bed and waited impatiently while he stripped of his outermost layer of clothing. It was when he reached out to do the same to her that she finally launched herself into action.

Striking out with a fist, she connected a heavy blow with his nose that sent him reeling somewhat. The next blow came from her foot (via a crescent kick) and connected with the side of his head, sending him stumbling to his right. With Asreal's help she boxed his ears a bit more before grabbing his wrist and rolling him over her hip. When he landed on the ground with a thud, she immediately planted her foot against his collarbone and pulled on his arm with all the force she could muster. A wave of satisfaction passed over her when she felt the arm go slack in her grip, indicating that she'd managed to dislocate his shoulder like she'd intended. That completely stuffed up his ability to use the ribbon device since that was the arm that she'd just injured.

Pausing, she stepped back. "Get up," she ordered him in a low growl.

He did so very slowly, not looking nearly as cocky as when he'd entered the room with bruises already mottling his face, a fat lip and his right arm hanging limply at his side. "With one call I can have you restrained and disciplined," he threatened her, even though he didn't make any real moves to do so.

"Is that right? Well, we can't have that," she said in an almost conversational tone, taking a step closer (and barely containing her glee when he responded with a step backwards). He opened his mouth to yell, but she stopped that by stepping towards him quickly and catching him in the groin with a kick. The Goa'uld doubled over, hissing in pain, and she finally took the opportunity to end the fight.

"Say hello to Satan," she growled and grasped his head in both of her hand, giving it a violent twist. There was a cracking noise and Ocecotl fell limply into the bed pit, not stirring any further. Rhea looked down at him for a moment in silence, relishing her victory before she set to work searching out any hidden weapons.

~*~*~

As he was hauled away from Rhea, Mac heard her calling his name. "Mac! MAC!!" she yelled. "JAKE!!" But he couldn't do anything to help her. Hell, he couldn't even do anything to help himself!

He felt himself dragged further and her cries faded. He was taken through the trees and into a second smaller clearing. One that held a vast pit in the centre and very little else. Apart from the statue, of course. The one that looked exactly like their charming host, Ocecotl. It stood at the far edge of the pit, seeming to look down into whatever was in there. Mac's head jerked up as a commotion to his right caught his attention. Two further cat men were dragging a screaming native into the clearing. The hapless man fought and kicked but the end result was inevitable and his cries could be heard as his body was dropped into the pit. Mac's captors walked him to the edge of the same pit, so they could view the action below. It took Mackenzie a while to focus enough to realize the poor guy wasn't alone in there. He was currently cowering against one wall as three sleek black jaguars prowled the open area. The native's cries could be clearly heard and Mac's blood ran cold as he watched the animals’ circle slowly closer.

The native tried to scramble up the sides of the pit and had managed to make it up about six feet before the first animal pounced, dragging him screaming back down by his trailing leg. The other two jaguars snarled at the first and leapt in. The man's cries grew in intensity before petering out altogether. Mac could barely recognize what was left as human, but he knew it was.

The guard on his left laughed nastily and threw a comment at the one on his right. Mac understood enough to know they were taking bets on how long the next one would last. Namely, himself. He scowled and tried to see a way out of this latest mess. The left hand guard leant forward to watch as the jaguars cleaned up the final remains of the villager and Mac saw a slim opening. He knew they'd more or less dismissed him as harmless, being as obviously injured as he was, and he sought to use that to his advantage. Lunging to his left he collided with the guard, crying in pain as he felt the broken fingers on his right hand crush together in the other guards hold. But he'd done enough and the first cat man toppled neatly into the pit, screaming horrendously as he fell.

Mac turned to face the other one who seemed stunned at the turn of events, staring down into the pit in shock as his accomplice was torn to shreds. He glanced at his prisoner, backing away slightly, anger replacing his initial reaction. He charged at full speed and Mackenzie braced himself. He knew he'd never win a fight and running wasn't an option. So he stood his ground, knowing his only weapon was quick thinking.

As the guard drew close, still at top speed, Mac dodged to one side, stumbling a little in his haste. The incoming creature missed him...almost. He caught Mac enough to make him topple backwards - towards the pit. The guard careened totally out of control and plunged head first into the pit. His screams ended abruptly, managing to impale himself on the only sharp object in the entire area - a stake set in the ground, probably where certain sacrifices were made. Not that Mac had time to think about that as he slid over the edge himself. He flung out a hand and grasped at a thick root that snaked down the side of the pit. It slowed him, but his stitched hand wasn't strong enough to take his weight and he fell several more feet. Mac tried again, knowing he was only about ten feet from the bottom of the pit - and those vicious animals. The thought of what had happened to the native spurred him into grabbing firmly and he ignored the pain in his hand and the fact that his action made it bleed anew.

The jaguars were currently busy with the two guards but he knew they'd soon turn their attention his way. He also knew there was no way he could climb back up as his right hand was totally useless. So he hung there... waiting and hoping against all odds that something would happen that didn't involve him becoming an entree.

~*~*~

Hunter smiled and took the next piece of shady looking fruit from the plump woman. She wasn't an idiot, she saw what happened to her CO. But she learned from a friend from Honduras that there was this whole big thing about generosity in Latin America, and Adrienne supposed that Mexico was no different and she didn't want to offend anyone.

Town detail thus far had pretty much sucked. It didn't take Adrienne any more than five minutes to realize that her five years of Spanish in school pretty much amounted to diddly-shit. So being able to serve no other purpose in the pueblo other than being the military representative, Hunter had to fight hard to stay awake in the warm sun.

She was able to make friendly with some of the local kiddies and spent some time learning and playing a game that involved some marbles and coloured sticks, that she never quite understood.

As night fell, Hunter worried a bit about her teammates. No one had reported anywhere, and the locals all but tied her down when she suggested going out to look for them. They screamed about the gods or something of that sort. Adrienne resigned to sitting in one of the homes, contemplating.

The next morning, Adrienne tried to reach her teammates via radio, with absolutely no luck. She rounded up who was left from her team. "They've been gone WAY too long and I haven't been able to contact them with the radios. We need to go find them. Hammond would be pretty pissed if we told him they went Tarzan on us. I need someone to persuade one of the locals to guide us in. There's no way in hell I'm wandering about an unknown jungle... That is, unless anyone else has any bright ideas."

~*~*~

A quick, yet thorough, search of Ocecotl's room had uncovered a zat'n'ktel to go along with the ribbon device that she'd taken off the dead Ocecotl's hand and put on her own.

//Not much, but it'll have to do,// she thought, sweeping a glance around the room one final time before moving to the door. She looked around for some kind of doorknob before she finally realised that what she'd thought was a decorative panel was in fact the doorknob she'd been looking for. Touching it with her bare hand didn't elicit a response, so she tried with the one encased in the ribbon device - it slid open silently, revealing a corridor. She gingerly poked her head through the opening and looked either way, rather surprised to find that there weren't any goons in either direction.

/*But then, he was an arrogant so and so,*/ Asreal commented.

//True. He probably though that I'd just be a good girl and submit when I didn't have my man to protect me.// She grinned at her own turn of phrase. Ocecotl would've probably had a coronary if he'd known her preferences lay elsewhere.

Trying to keep her steps as quiet as she could, she crept down the hallway, using her symbiont’s perfect recall to guide her direction - while she'd been torn up over the loss of Mac, the Tok'ra had been noting their surroundings for future reference. She was soon standing at the back entrance of Ocecotl's 'throne room', her efforts to try and stay out of sight somewhat impairing her ability to assess exactly how many goons were in there. But then she though about Mac, who, if he wasn't already gone, was certainly heading there.

"No guts, no glory," she murmured and launched herself into the chamber with all 'guns' blazing. Four of the catmen were taken out by zat blasts before they knew what had hit them, while two more were thrown into walls by the ribbon device (which must've been altered by the Goa'uld to overcome the negating ability of the amulets the catmen wore). It took her a few moments to realise that she'd taken care of all the room's occupants in that initial strike.

//Is that it?// she wondered incredulously, well and truly caught up in a severe case of bloodlust.

/*Rheannon, this isn't the time to go around killing people willy-nilly. You've got Mac to worry about.*/

This bought her back to earth with a big, fat thud. //Mac! God!!// She darted to the main exit from the chamber and carefully edged her way to the outside world. One goon was unlucky enough to try to enter the throne room while she was doing this, so he ended up being zapped with her zat. Once out in the blinding sun, she realised that the whole clearing was remarkably empty. Almost devoid of anything that wasn't tree stumps.

"Ah, siesta," she murmured, looking around for any potential threats, of which there weren't any. Nor were there any indications of where Mac had been taken. Desperation clamped over her heart as she jogged towards the perimeter, prepared to look over every inch of ground for half a clue as to where her CO had been taken. However, she hadn't taken two steps in her search when Lady Luck smiled on her and she saw the distinctive signs of someone being dragged.

"Thank you God," she whispered up to heaven. She followed the now clearly visible trail through the trees until she emerged into a smaller clearing – and spotted a giant hole in the ground from which rather unpleasant growling sounds were coming.

"Mac?" she called, her stomach falling to her feet as the growling sounds increased in their ferocity. //Oh god, what if they-//

The thought was cut off by a voice. "Down here!" it said, sounding a little muffled, although that was probably due to the fact that it was coming from out of the pit.

Dashing over, she fell to her knees at the edge and peered in. "Ohmigod!" she yelped, seeing her CO clinging onto a tree root with a bloody hand. She scooted to lie on her stomach and reached out her hand. Even as she did so, one of the jags just about climbed the dirt walls of the pit in an attempt to get at Mac, the fact that its muzzle was covered in blood making it obvious that it didn't just want a new playmate. Her fingertips barely brushed his own when she reached out as far as she could managed without tipping herself into the pit too. She shuffled forwards a few inches, but it didn't make a great deal of difference.

"Shit," she cursed, then had an idea. Scooting back onto her feet, she faced the ribbon device into the pit and activated it.

"What the hell are you doing?" Mackenzie demanded angrily, even though it was obvious that his grip was beginning to lose a bit of its fear-induced strength.

"Just hold on," she replied through gritted teeth and focussed her will onto the jags, which looked up at her with golden eyes.

When the humming of the device reached a fever pitch she loosed a force wave that flew from the device wrapped around her hand towards the animals. They yowled in agony as their bodies were compressed into the ground, before they fell silent. Even before the force wave had hit the jags, Rhea was back on her stomach and reaching for Mac, her feet hooked securely under a separate tree root to the one he was dangling from. This time, lacking the latent fear of falling into the pit, she managed to get his wrist in a monkey grip and gestured for him to give her his other hand. He did so gingerly, aware of his broken fingers, and she crossed her arms over in order to take his wrist.

"Let go," she grunted, already straining a bit to hold his weight.

"Are you insane? We'll fall," he hissed back, not about to let go of the tree root.

"Just do it! Asreal's a lot stronger than you think!" Even as she said the words, Asreal was already at work repairing the micro tears in her muscles and diverting all the energy from non-vital systems to her limbs. Gritting her teeth, she felt her shoulders just about be wrenched out of their sockets when Mac finally let go of the tree root and hang freely. Ever so slowly she began to inch her way back from the edge of the pit rather than trying to pull him up, which would cause her shoulders to dislocate at an amazing pace.

He helped out by scrabbling up the side with his feet. Ten minutes of this later his hands were almost level with the edge and she finally dared to use brute strength to pull him the rest of the way. When he was finally on solid ground, she released her grip on his arms and straightened her cramped fingers.

"Ow," she winced as the air bubbles in her joints popped.

"You okay?" Mac asked, sitting up on his heels.

Rhea looked up from her aching hands and on a impulse launched herself into his arms, holding him as tight as she dared with all of his injuries. "I thought you were dead," she whispered brokenly, and broke down once again.

~*~*~

As he hung tenuously from the tree root, Mackenzie found his strength fading, keeping himself in place with adrenaline alone. His grip was becoming slicker with each second as his stitched cut pulled apart, liberally dousing his hand and the root in blood. He'd almost got to the point where he knew he was about to fall when he heard something. Someone. A voice. Not just *any* voice...

"Mac?" Rhea O'Shea's call was such sweet music to Mac's ears.

He called back gruffly, "Down here," and saw her face peer over the edge at him, worry and fright present in roughly equal doses. He watched and gritted his teeth as she stretched down towards him. He tried - so hard - to reach her, but he couldn't. Not quite. He felt her fingertips graze his hand as he grasped the root...

"Shit,” he heard her mutter, echoing his own thoughts, before she vanished from sight. She soon reappeared, brandishing a Goa'uld ribbon device, much to Mackenzie's concern.

"What the hell are you doing?" he shouted, sure she was about to put him out of his misery...permanently.

"Just hold on," she replied, aiming a little higher. Mac closed his eyes and held his breath, concentrating instead of hanging on. His hand had just about seized up by this stage and he wasn't sure if he'd *even* be able to let go of the damn root. He felt the pulse of the device as it washed lightly over his back and heard the jaguars yelp as Rhea's shot hit its intended targets. Their snapping and snarling ceased immediately.

The next thing he was aware of was Rhea grabbing hold of his left wrist. He raised his useless right one as she directed and she grabbed that wrist too. "Let go," she said calmly.

Mac felt anything but calm but eventually did as she ordered and slowly... painfully slowly... he inched upwards. He knew he wasn't a lot of help but after what felt like an eternity, he felt her haul him over the edge. He lay quietly as he heard her mutter "Ow."

He sat up. "Are you ok?" he asked her in great worry. He was surprised when, in the next instant, Rhea hurled herself at him, almost rocking him over backwards, and clung to him.

He heard her murmur quietly, "I thought you were dead," before sounds of sobbing replaced her words.

Mackenzie wasn't sure what to say to her. Hell, he knew she'd been through a rough time and wasn't sure how to deal with this latest turn in events. So he simply held her, whispering words that he hoped were comforting, until her crying stopped. She pulled away slightly, sniffing and wiping a grimy hand across her face. Mac smiled as he saw the dirty streak she left behind, and rubbed at it for her.

"Sweet timing, Rhea," he said to her. "A minute later, and..." He petered out, seeing the fear rise up in her face again. //Nice one, Mackenzie,// he mentally kicked himself. "How about we get away from this place, huh?" Rhea nodded and stood slowly, helping him at the same time. While he knew he'd love to hunt around for the missing Codex, he knew it would be the last mistake he'd probably ever make. More logical to regroup with the others and come up with a formal plan of action. he leant heavily on Rhea as they headed into the jungle. He knew he needed to rest urgently, as did she, but they couldn't. Not here. Not this close to the enemy. Rhea told him that she'd killed the creature, Ocecotl, but his followers were still around and would be baying for their blood in all probability.

So, they kept moving. How, Mackenzie didn't know, but they did.

Around an hour or so later, Rhea pulled him to the ground. Mac had been walking automatically, and wasn't entirely conscious and her actions took him unawares. He landed heavily, stifling a grunt. "Someone's up ahead," she hissed in his ear. Mac pulled himself up slightly and saw what had spooked her. Definitely two figures heading their way. But not as tall as the other ones. Maybe...

"It could be MacDonald and Diens," he said feebly, hoping his guess was right and knowing they couldn't even think about going another round with the followers of Ocecotl. They crouched low as the figures approached.

"It is," he heard Rhea say as she stood slowly. “Over here!" she called to the other two members of SG-15. Mac could hear the relief in her voice as he lay waiting for the others to reach them. He knew how she felt. Mac knew he'd never feel the same way about cats ever again. He held on to Rhea's leg as she stood over him, feeling reassured by her presence, and he closed his eyes.

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