PART TEN "Confrontations"
?Have a seat, Colonel.?
He sank into the offered chair and ran a tired hand across his face. Janet seated herself and tossed his thick chart on the desk, where it landed with a dull thump.
?I could write an entire thesis just on this last little adventure of yours,? she remarked with forced humor.
Jack nodded, absently massaging his knee while he waited for her to continue.
The extensive physical had consisted of the usual poking and prodding, as well as a fair share of needles. Given her level of frustration, a part of him was sure Janet had enjoyed drawing no less than three vials of rich, dark blood from his right arm. Palpations of his aching knees, and the examination of his bruised feet and calves were accompanied by the frantic scribbling of notes. Punctuated by the occasional muttered oath when she ran across an old or relatively new injury for the umpteenth time. He gritted his teeth, and endured her ramblings in stoic silence. Refusing to flinch at the incessant flash of the penlight, and the touch of her cool, glove clad fingers running the length of his spine and across his still tender midriff. There had been no point in asking questions, Janet would not answer until she was good and ready. Judging by the heavy frown now resting on her drawn face, he knew the news couldn?t be good.
?You aren?t ready for this, you know that don?t you??
His eyes flickered across her pinched features. I know, he agreed silently. There were no words that would convince her otherwise. Janet was dogged in her dedication to her patients, a quality he had always admired. Her determination to keep him grounded however, paled against the growing urgency of the situation at hand. McKenzie had reluctantly signed him off for the upcoming mission, which was the best he could hope for considering the circumstances. A return to full active duty status was a different matter entirely, and Jack found himself more than willing to let the issue lie for the time being. The psychiatrist?s recommendations for further treatment and evaluation rested in the file beneath Janet?s elbows. She had glanced at them when Jack arrived in the Infirmary, but kept her comments to herself. Her order for him to strip was sharp, issued in a tone of professionalism he rarely heard. An obvious attempt to distance herself from the weighty choices she was being forced to consider.
?Your ribs need time to heal, and you know yourself that your spine was badly bruised. You lost feeling for a bit below the waist, remember??
He nodded a second time, feeling vaguely like a teenager begging for the car. Except the car was really a Tok?ra Scoutship, and they were hardly out for a cruise up Sunset Strip.
Janet dropped her eyes to the file folder, running one finger up the thick stack of pages. ?I shouldn?t allow this, I could order you to stay here, but?? she looked up, drawing his gaze with her own. ?You would go anyway, wouldn?t you? Orders be dammed??
?Yes,? he replied in a harsh whisper.
I don?t want to ask you, Janet. Please don?t make me?
Suppressing a tired sigh, Jack forced himself to confront the fear and stuttering resolve in her dark eyes.
She licked her lips. ?It?s different this time, isn?t it? Different than Baal??
?Yes, ? he repeated, almost inaudibly. Hear me, please!
?I suppose you want the rest of SG-1 and Lieutenant Colonel Griffin as well??
The question was rhetorical. He had spoken to Hammond after his hasty lunch, and the General told him that Janet had been fully briefed on their intentions. He couldn?t blame her for trying to draw him out. To the outside observer, it was utter foolishness to think that a handful of injured people could mount a successful rescue into a heavily defended Goa?uld dominated fortress. Common sense was telling him the same, but Jack had ceased to listen.
?I need them,? he said simply and she pulled back, stung by the intensity of his words.
It was selfish, even wrong on some levels, but Jack knew without doubt that he could not go alone and that they would never let him. There was more than the practical at stake. More than duty to his country, honor to the oath he had sworn, or responsibility to the twisted race of man. There was a desire to make right what had transpired, no matter that it wasn?t entirely his fault. An obligation to bring back the young man that trusted them all and given up his entire life, because it was the right thing to do. And there was the overwhelming need to find the part of himself that the Pellans had beaten into submission, and left for dead on the cold stone floor of the cell.
Jack licked his lips and regarded the anxious doctor from beneath half closed eyelids. She was doing her job, following the mandates of an oath centuries old. He could not fault her for that, though it stood in the way of what had to be done. It wasn?t fair to either of them, he thought with a flare of anger that set his teeth on edge. His eyes drifted restlessly to the wall behind her. Janet?s office was similar to his in many respects, Spartan and functional, with only a few touches to indicate that a woman, not just an officer occupied the space. Framed certificates signifying her graduation from the Air Force Academy and medical school, were mounted neatly on the cream colored surface. Above them was a parchment lettered in black ink, the Hippocratic oath.
?First do no harm,? he murmured.
She nodded stiffly. ?You are asking me to put my patients at risk. Daniel isn?t ready for this, the burns on his legs were severe, they may need to be debrided again. There was muscle damage, you saw the crutch??
?I saw.?
?Colonel Griffin was severely burned on her left shoulder. She suffered some trauma to the face and a sprain to her right wrist, she needs more down time??
?I know.? Jack felt detached, like the first strange days after his return from the Pellan planet. His voice was cold, without inflection, and he hated himself more with each breath. Unfortunately, distance was the only shield he had against Janet?s impassioned arguments. If he opened up his heart and heard the concern beneath her words, he knew he would crumble. ?I need Karen, she knows the lay of the land better than any of us.?
For the first time in weeks, Jack heard the Id. Chattering in the back of his thoughts, rising up as he strove to preserve himself in the face of mounting pressures from the outside. He shook his head and pushed to his feet, ignoring the selfish little demon that strove to pull him back under its spell. ?I?m sorry, it?s not fair to put you in this position,? he conceded gruffly.
?No, it?s not,? Janet snapped, allowing some of her frustration to bleed through. Rising to her feet, she slapped the file with one hand and pointed at him with the other. ?What makes you think you can do this? What miracle is going to save you yet again? How much is too much and your body fails you?? Her heated words poured over him and she seemed to grow in stature, form feeding on fear as she continued. ?They punctured a lung, broke four ribs, fractured your skull, bruised a kidney, burned you all over your body with those pain sticks, not to mention more bruises and cuts than I can count?What are you thinking??
?That I have no choice.?
?You have no?of course you do! Let someone else go back there, why would you put yourself through this again?? she trailed off, her diminutive frame shaking with the force of her words. ?I can?t allow it??
?Janet,? Jack swallowed the lump in his throat and slowly rounded the desk. The feeling of detachment shattered beneath the implications of her words. Fear silenced the Id, drowning out its resentful howl beneath the pounding of his heart. He sat on the edge and touched her shoulder with icy fingers. ?I have to, you know that. Please, don?t stand in my way?? The plea fell from his lips and lay between them, stark and glaring in the harsh light of reality.
There was no denying it, and her shoulders slumped in quiet defeat. ?I?ve known you for seven years. I would bet that I am more familiar with your body than any lover could be, for all of that I am simply your friend, Jack. I don?t want to see you hurt again?or worse.?
Jack closed the door to his temporary quarters and collapsed on the bed with a protracted sigh. His body was screaming for rest, even as his mind buzzed with reaction to his encounter with Janet.
An awkward silence had fallen in the wake of her declaration of friendship. He knew how she felt, had seen it for years in the way she reacted to SG-1 every time one of them was injured. Like himself, she cared too much, for the people in her charge. To hear the words however, was a shock to his already ravaged system. He could only react by squeezing her shoulder and accepting the signed forms with a mute nod. Walking out of the Infirmary, he was left with the taste of ashes in his mouth. As if somehow he had failed another friend, though he couldn?t see how.
With a groan, he sat up and slowly untied his bootlaces. Fear had followed closely on the heels of failure as he walked to the elevator. The suppressed defensive side of his nature had risen with disquieting speed when threatened with denial and restraint.
What will happen on the planet? Will I fall apart?
Jack pulled his boots free and tossed them into a corner of the darkened room. His implication to Karen the night before had only partly been in jest. The feeling of withdrawal and the murmur of that demanding little voice in the back of his brain had been terrifying reminders of his first fevered days in the Infirmary.
I can?t go back there?
The thoughts chilled him to the bone, eliciting a low moan from his parched lips. Jack scrubbed roughly at his face and stumbled to his feet. Rounding the end of the bed, he walked to the small table on stiff legs. The water pitcher glinted with the light that seeped beneath the door, a faint rainbow hugging the curve of the glass. He clutched the handle and raised it to his lips, splashing water across his face as he gulped desperately.
I have to?
He drained the pitcher and stood swaying unsteadily in the darkness. He had approached the return to P2Z-421 with single-minded determination since the night Karen had told him that Jonas was a prisoner. Doubts had flitted at the back of his mind, but he had never allowed them to coalesce into the brutal truth of the matter.
I can?t, but I have no choice?
The pitcher slipped from his grasp and landed with a dull thump on the table. He steadied it with an unconscious movement of his hand as it teetered near the edge. A part of him acutely aware of the noise shattering glass would make and the attention it would draw.
No choice?
The Pellans had removed all options with crushing blows to his head and body. Determined his path via spates of high, cackling laughter and capering fits of ecstasy, as he writhed in agony. Was this the simple fact that McKenzie had tried to show him? Or was there more to it than that? More than the need to acknowledge what they had taken, but in fact to accept and even revel in the changes? To see that even a horror contained some positive aspects?
Jack shook his head and plodded wearily back to the bed. He needed to rest. Quell the questions that tore at his subconscious, and threatened to release the Id to romp in glorious abandon through his shredded psyche. For a moment, he considered calling the Infirmary and asking for something to dull his senses long enough for sleep to take hold. But asking for drugs would only make Janet doubt her decision even more than she already did. He sank onto the mattress and lay back, blinking sightlessly at the ceiling. Slowly he began to count, forcing his mind to focus on the panels high above. He counted their number, and then how many made up the width and breadth of the room. Then he started on each one, counting the four sides before moving onto the next, with the intent of adding up how many sides in total there were.
Exhaustion gradually overrode the nonsensical pattern, until the edges blurred to darkness.
The insistent buzz of his cell phone dragged Jack back to consciousness. He pawed at his shirt, seeking the annoying little instrument nestled firmly in his front pocket. With a low growl, he wrenched it free and stared bleary eyed at the numbers. Recognizing Hammond?s office line, he cleared his throat and sat up slowly.
?O?Neill,? his voice sounded unnaturally soft and weak to his ears, and Jack was not surprised at the pause that greeted him.
?Jack, did I wake you??
?Yes, Sir.?
?Sorry about that. Doctor Fraiser said you left the Infirmary a couple hours ago. I thought maybe you had gone home??
?Didn?t make it that far, Sir,? he admitted sheepishly.
?I see,? Hammond paused a second time, and Jack could almost see the older man?s round features slumping into a frown when he spoke again. ?I heard from the Vice President this afternoon. He?s requested a meeting with the President and has asked Secretary Atkins to attend. He would like you and myself to sit in via satellite.?
The muzziess of sleep fled like a shadow before the dawn. ?Why does the Vice President want me there? He has to know that my presence will only rile Kinsey even more.?
?The Vice President feels your testimony about what happened on P2Z-421 will convince Secretary Atkins and any doubting members of the cabinet of the foolhardiness of this entire operation.?
Or drive Kinsey right over the edge, Jack mused darkly. ?When??
?The call is set for 1800 hundred hours, you?ve got time to grab some dinner and wake up a bit.?
Sweet. ?Conference room??
?Yes,? Hammond took a breath. ?Are you up for this, Jack??
No choice? The subconscious mantra that had chased him into a leaden sleep chanted in the back of Jack?s mind as he licked suddenly dry lips. ?Yes, Sir,? he replied. ?I?ll be there.?
Hammond disconnected from his end, leaving the whine of the dial tone to fill the silence. Jack tossed the phone on the bed and ran a hand over his stiff neck. ?Yeah, I?ll be there.? His voice echoed off the walls of the small room, ricocheting back to him in a weak parody of itself. He shrugged, trying to dismiss the creeping feeling of dread that had arisen with the sound of Hammond?s voice.
Kinsey and his paranoia had been an outstanding thorn in the side of the SGC for six years. He should have been grateful, even excited in a perverse fashion, at the prospect of gagging the old codger once and for all. Instead, Jack was left with the suspicion that somehow the President would find a way around the neat little trap that he himself had helped to forge.
Jack rose to his feet and went to the bathroom, emerging moments later to the light rap of knuckles on metal. ?What now?? he grated in between beats. Buckling his belt, he crossed the room in three long strides and pulled open the door. ?Carter??
?Hey.?
?What are you doing here?? he fumbled.
?I was working on something and needed a break, so I went to see Janet?? she trailed off, watching him closely. ?I wasn?t checking up on you??
?No?of course you weren?t,? he replied, with a stab of disappointment. Would it have been so wrong if you were?
?She?was upset?about the mission.?
?I know.?
?Were you on your way out?? she asked uncertainly, taking a step back.
?No,? he lied, and she frowned, catching him as she always did. ?I was sleeping and Hammond called??
?About Kinsey??
?Yes??
?Are you?okay??
?No,? Jack confessed, ?Nervous as hell, actually.? He wondered when it had become okay to admit weakness in front of her. Was it after the first or second time they slept together, the first or second night he had spent on her couch?
Were those experiences a mistake? If so, which was the first? Did it even matter anymore? Did it ever?
Perhaps, inevitably, he had fallen. Gotten too close to ever pull back. Whether due to desperation, age, or circumstance he could not be sure, maybe all, or neither? He had become a broken sentinel, incapable of protecting himself or anyone else from the demons that raged within. Voices that would not be silent no matter how he fought. Her quiet, unassuming presence had become his only shield against the onrushing darkness. Jack folded his hands behind his back, clenching them until the bones ached and the nails bit into the tender flesh of his palms. The urge to touch her soft skin, to share the part of him that had grown to fear the light was almost overwhelming. He blinked and released a tremulous breath, watching her eyes grow large with puzzlement and concern.
?Sir??
No, not Sir! He wanted to scream his frustration, pound his trembling fists through the unyielding concrete. The woman he had caressed; the passionate creature that had moaned his name and arched beneath his hungry touch, meeting him in a symphony of movement, punctuated by tendrils of exquisite fire, lay buried beneath the soldier who stood before him.
?Jack??
They had moved out of the hallway and she had closed the door, plunging the room into near darkness. He shook himself, vaguely aware of the warmth of her hand on his arm, gently squeezing the flesh.
?What??
?You checked out for a second, do you want me to call someone??
?No?? he breathed, nearly choking on the emotions that rose in rhythmic, suffocating waves. ?I want you to stay, right here, right now,? please?
Sam?s gaze shifted rapidly from his face to the closed door, her expression evolving from concern to confusion to outright panic. ?I can?t do that?not?I can?t?? The hand slid down the length of his arms, catching in his cold, grasping fingers. ?I?m sorry?? She fled, the door banging loudly against the wall, a sharp counterpoint to the retreating thunder of her footsteps.
Jack paused outside the conference room. Adjusting the uniform jacket of his dress blues as he listened to the murmur of voices just beyond the open door. Sergeant Siler and General Hammond were discussing the video feed from Washington, Siler murmuring last minute instructions to a third silent party while their CO made polite small talk. He scrubbed a hand across his sweaty face, grateful that his arrival had gone unnoticed.
After Sam?s hasty departure he had showered and shaved, and spent the remaining hour pacing the floor. Vacillating between outright rage at his own stupidity, and bitter resentment that she could not see and hear how badly he needed her. Self-recrimination had won out in the end. Forcing him from his room beneath a veil of blackness so thick, he was sure it radiated from his stalking form. It wasn?t the kind of attitude he needed to face Kinsey. Not if there was a hope in hell of fashioning a compromise they could all live with.
?Colonel, how long have you been standing there??
?Not long, Sir.? He coughed and shifted his attention to Siler, who was standing just inside the brightly lit room with his customary tool kit in hand. ?Sergeant.?
?Sir, nice to see you up and around.?
?Thanks.?
?Dismissed, Sergeant, Airman,? Hammond said as he stepped back for the red haired man to pass between them.
?Sirs,? the young man acknowledged, as he gathered spare cables from the floor.
?Sirs.? Siler nodded, gathering his tech in with a glance before moving off down the hall.
The General closed the door behind them and gestured to the long conference table. ?Have a seat, Colonel. We?ve got a few minutes.?
Jack pulled out his usual chair, eyeing the video screen and the equipment set up neatly beneath it. ?Technology, huh??
?Yes, wonderful stuff, isn?t it?? Hammond remarked dryly as he took his seat. ?You look like hell, I though you said you were sleeping.?
?If you could call it that.?
The general dismissed the quip with a shrug of his beefy shoulders. ?I?ve received Doctor Fraiser's and Doctor McKenzie?s reports and recommendations. You are aware that your duty status will be reviewed after your return from P2Z-421??
The statement was filler for the nerves that plagued them both. Jack acknowledged Hammond?s discomfort and his own with a weary nod of his head.
Silence descended between them. Broken by the occasional muted announcement on the intercom, and the distant rumbling of equipment and personnel being shifted throughout the large facility.
Jack rose and paced the room, casting a wary eye at the video monitor whenever he drew near it. The situation seemed to grow more surreal as the seconds passed by, and he was reminded of the Orwell classic 1984. How far humanity had surpassed the author?s eerie vision of the future and yet how close they were, he thought with a wry grimace. Kinsey with his arrogant leer and his Bible thumping speeches about the greater good, like Big Brother overseeing humanity. Manipulating them down a garden path of conformity. Denying the undeniable truth that the Stargate had shown them. Jack felt his stomach clench and turn over in a chilly nauseous knot, and he swallowed the bitter irony along with the bile that burned his throat.
The buzz of the intercom set his teeth on edge. Hammond shared a sympathetic frown as he strode to the wall unit and pressed the button.
?The Vice President, Sir.?
?Patch him through,? he turned and gestured. ?Have a seat, Jack. Here we go.?
The video screen came alive as Jack drew his chair beneath him. A dull gray room much like theirs appeared. In the center, seated at a large table, were two men whom he recognized from innumerable televised and written interviews. After a moment the view split, revealing the Oval Office and a third figure he had grown to despise as much as the Goa?uld.
?General Hammond, Colonel O?Neill.? President Kinsey acknowledged.
?Mr. President, Mr. Vice President, Mr. Secretary,? Hammond greeted formerly.
Jack nodded, schooling his features into a blank mask.
Vice President Rory Allen cleared his throat. With a polite nod to the monitor connecting him to the Oval Office, he began to speak. ?Mr. President and Mr. Secretary, General Hammond and Colonel O?Neill, I have called this meeting to discuss the off-world operations on the planet designated P2Z-421 that took place from May 20th to July 8th. Beginning with the capture and detention of Colonel Jonathan O?Neill during a routine survey mission, and ending with the failed negotiations of combined units SG-1 and 10. Resulting in injury to several members of these two teams, the capture of the Kewlownan native Jonas Quinn, and the death of one Sergeant Milton Gray.? Allen paused to take a breath.
Jack?s attention shifted to Kinsey. The president was nodding, his beady eyes slightly unfocused as he stared into the camera. Smug bastard, he thought grimly.
?After reviewing all relevant information regarding this operation, it is my considered opinion that the security of this planet was placed in grave danger by the above activities.? The Vice President turned in his seat, clearly addressing the unseen monitor. ?The original survey mission was normal operations for Stargate Command. The subsequent repeated and eventually successful rescue attempts were a necessary risk to retrieve a valued officer from enemy hands. Mr. President, the ongoing and ultimately fruitless negotiations to obtain a stable source of Naquadria for study was ill conceived.? He shook his head, confusion and sadness settling into the deep lines around his gray eyes. ?The result is that a valuable member of the SGC remains in possession of the enemy, and a member of our nation?s military has given his life, with no tangible gains in evidence.?
Kinsey nodded again, his pasty skin drawn tight across his high cheekbones.
Jack swallowed hard, fighting the urge to pace the floor. The president appeared unmoved by his subordinate?s report, as cold and arrogant as Osiris. He dropped his eyes to the table and forced his restless hands into his lap. Resolute that Kinsey would not drive him into actions that would only prove embarrassing and counter productive. Hammond shifted beside him, the chair creaking loudly in the quiet room. He sighed into his hand, casting a wary eye in Jack?s direction as the Vice President resumed speaking.
?The presence of Goa?uld on P2Z-421, while unforeseen, should not have been unexpected. The operation was conducted without the use of all available informational resources. Given the condition of Colonel O?Neill upon his retrieval, logic would dictate a more considered approach. Mr. President you should have waited, your haste has placed this planet in jeopardy??
?My haste?? Kinsey spoke for the first time. ?The SGC operated in secret for two years before I raised the specter of doubt. Haste is a subject that General Hammond and Colonel O?Neill are intimately familiar with,? he spat acerbically. ?I acted in the best interests of this country??
?Mr. President, your intentions are not in question here, it is your judgment that the Cabinet and myself have called into question.?
?Mr. Secretary, what is your position on this matter?? Kinsey demanded, his jowls quivering with evident fury.
?Mr. President, as Secretary of Defense, I should have been consulted on this matter. Naquadria is a valuable source of power, which could find many uses in defense applications given sufficient study. I understand your desire to obtain this material, but I cannot condone the activities employed in this instance??
?The military has been guilty of far worse in the past, and no doubt will be in the future,? the President retorted. ?How many times have we sent our troops into a situation that ultimately lead to their deaths, for the sake of a chunk of land or a set of pictures??
?Mr. President, I would submit that the activities on P2Z-421 are far more serious than the acquisition of real estate in a third world country, or even photographs of weapons or chemical facilities?? Allen interjected.
Kinsey snorted, cutting off the Vice President mid sentence. ?I do not agree. Establishing a presence in a country filled with animosity towards the United States, and eliminating a threat to national security is tantamount to obtaining high grade weapons material that could defend us against such adversaries in the future.?
?Mr. President, are you suggesting that the security of this nation should take precedence over the safety of this entire planet? That our presence on the Pellan homeworld is tantamount to foreign operations here on Earth?? Secretary Atkins was blinking rapidly, his mouth slightly agape. ?Surely I have misunderstood you.?
?No, you haven?t,? Jack murmured too softly for the microphone to catch.
Hammond shot him a warning look and he bowed his head in mute acquiescence. The pot was already simmering on high, with a muttered oath it exploded before their eyes.
?I placed the highest value on the citizens of this nation!? The President jabbed his finger into his desk blotter, his face reddening with ire. ?I ordered the SGC to pursue full scale negotiations with the natives of that planet in order to protect the people of the United States from harm, both on and offworld!?
Jack swallowed hard, Kinsey was finally acknowledging that aliens could threaten the Earth. It was significant given the man?s past ignorance, and dangerous because it proved his motives weren?t entirely selfish.
?There is more than just this nation at risk, Sir,? the Vice President pointed out, his tone low, his phrases measured. ?Osiris represents a race of beings that could destroy the world, given the opportunity??
?All the more reason to obtain Naquadria,? Kinsey countered, the hint of a sly smile tugging at his lips.
?Agreed, Mr. President. But not at the risk of jeopardizing our national, nay international security!? Atkins raised his voice for the first time, his concern showing openly on his dark features.
Kinsey sat back in his seat, his gaze shifting until he seemed to be glaring right through the screen into Jack?s soul. ?I have listened to the strident tones of General Hammond and Colonel O?Neill as they tried to convince me of the value of this program. Finally I heard, and now that tangible goals are within reach you want me to stop?? A mirthless bark of laughter escaped his pale lips. ?You would have me give up the pursuit of perhaps the most valuable natural element ever to be discovered? The quest for weapons that could ultimately rid us of this monumental threat?? He shook his head, a shadow darkening his blue eyes to sapphire stone. ?You can?t have it both ways, gentleman.?
?What we cannot have is a Commander and Chief who puts personal vendetta above the security of this planet,? the Vice President accused solemnly.
Kinsey did not flinch. ?Prove it.?
The blood roared in Jack?s ears, filling the expectant pause that followed the President?s demand. He chewed his lip until his mouth was awash in the metallic tang of blood and the sickly sweet taste of torn flesh. His fingers trembled on the edge of the table as he fought the urge to roar his frustration and resentment at Kinsey?s ghastly visage.
?Mr. President, you were not aware of the presence of the Naquadria until after Colonel O?Neill returned to the SGC, correct?? Allen continued.
The older man nodded.
?Were you aware that he was being held, and of the SGC?s efforts to secure his release??
Again the stoic nod.
?I was not,? Secretary Atkins interrupted angrily. ?I did not become privy to this operation until after Colonel O?Neill had returned.?
?General Hammond, why did you not inform Secretary Atkins?? the Vice President queried.
Jack furtively watched his CO. The older man took a deep breath clearly uncomfortable with the answer he was about to give. ?I informed the President as I was required to do. I was told that he would handle the matter.?
?I see,? Allen dropped his eyes, studying something on the desk below the camera?s line of sight. ?For the purposes of clarification, Mr. President. You were informed on May 24th of this year, that one Colonel Jonathan O?Neill was being held on planet P2Z-421??
Kinsey?s jaw moved reflexively, for the first time a hint of unease showed on his pasty face. ?I was.?
?However, Secretary Atkins did not become aware of these circumstances, until June 18th??
?That is correct,? Atkins supplied, a note of disgust creeping into his placid voice.
?Agreed,? the President murmured.
?Do you offer any explanation for this discrepancy??
?The SGC conducts its operations on a daily basis without my direct involvement, Mr. Vice President, and in many cases without the direction of the Department of Defense. This rescue operation was standard operating procedure.?
Nice to know your worth?Jack bit back the useless remark. General Hammond stiffened in his chair, a sheen of fresh sweat glistening on his bald head.
?Colonel O?Neill is the leader of the flagship team of the SGC. His capture and imprisonment is a shade more important than yesterday?s newspaper, wouldn?t you agree, Mr. President?? Atkins challenged tightly.
?The situation was well in hand.? Kinsey retorted. ?General Hammond is fully capable of launching an effective rescue operation.?
It was a backhanded compliment if Jack ever heard one. He glanced at the General, who was looking at the floor. ?Sir, don?t,? he whispered.
Hammond shook his head, attempting to shrug away the guilt that hung over the room like a shroud. It was too much.
?You would have let me rot, Kinsey,? he murmured icily.
?I beg your pardon, Colonel O?Neill?? The President sat back in his chair, a self-satisfied gleam in his eye. ?I owe you a debt of gratitude for the important role you played in my election to this distinguished office.?
The reminder, was infuriating, and Jack nearly gagged on the irony of the situation. ?Don?t remind me. Maybe these fine gentlemen would like to hear about the threats you made against this program and the personnel involved if the Naquadria negotiations didn?t move ahead??
?Threats, Colonel?? Kinsey scoffed as he folded his skeletal fingers on the desk. ?I am the President of the United States. I dictate policy and formulate the laws that govern this great nation, I don?t need to threaten anyone.?
?Jack?? Hammond cautioned out of the side of his mouth.
Damn you and your self righteous rhetoric! Jack rose to his feet, feeling the eyes of the Vice President and Secretary as he paced closer to the camera. ?What did you tell Doctor Daniel Jackson? Did you threaten to send him to the most remote dig you could find?? He quoted the older man?s words and felt a brief flush of satisfaction as Kinsey blinked in surprise. ?Yes I was listening, and I remember. I remember you threatened to reassign Major Carter to toilet scrubbing detail in Alaska and to send Teal?c off for study?I have a long memory, Mr. President.?
?Pity it wasn?t working a month ago,? Kinsey grated.
Jack?s heart lurched in his chest. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet the older man?s narrowed eyes. ?Would it have mattered??
?It might have saved the life of a USAF Sergeant,? Secretary Atkins pointed out quietly. He raised a hand and offered a weak smile to soften his words. ?My apologies, Colonel. I am sure you did your best under the circumstances.?
I wish I could be. The cryptic thought seemed to suck the air from the room. Jack returned to his place and settled heavily into the chair.
?Gentleman, I think we have reached the heart of the matter,? the Vice President ventured into the weighty silence, his gray eyes nearly black as he turned his full attention on the President?s monitor. ?There is evidence to suggest that threats were made against SGC personnel and their families if this operation did not proceed. Sworn statements by civilian advisors and military officials stating similar scenarios, as the ones suggested by Colonel O?Neill a few moments ago. There is the fact that Osiris was responsible for the delays in the retrieval of Colonel O?Neill, and directly to blame for the death of Sergeant Milton Gray. As well as the injuries received by Doctor Daniel Jackson, Lieutenant Colonel Karen Griffin, and the Chulak native Teal?c. Lastly, there is the fact that Osiris is currently holding Jonas Quinn captive. A direct result of a poorly conceived operation to secure Naquadria rights from the Pellan people.?
?Who, it turns out, are nothing more than primitive puppets. According to the reports forwarded to me by General Hammond.? Atkins added reluctantly.
?Is there a point to this discussion?? the President asked, his voice deadly calm.
Allen flinched, but stood his ground. ?Yes, Mr. President, there is. It is the considered opinion of the majority of the Cabinet that your decisions in this matter were clouded by personal bias. By forcing this operation to move forward, you needlessly endangered the security of this country and the world at large. By enabling Osiris to capture Jonas Quinn you have placed this planet in peril, and by threatening the members of the SGC you have tied the hands of the only people on Earth who could effectively address this situation.?
?The Majority of the cabinet?? Kinsey pressed with a gesture of his hand. ?I don?t see a majority of anyone.?
?Mr. President, we chose to come to you alone, as a sign of good faith,? Allen explained. ?For the sake of Executive stability, we thought you should be aware of the actions we are considering??
?Spit it out, Rory,? the President snapped.
?Mr. President, the SGC intends to go ahead with a military operation consisting of two objectives. The primary focus will be to discover the depths of Osiris? knowledge and use of the Naquadria present on P2Z-421, as well as destroy any weapons he has developed or tactical information he may possess concerning Earth?s defenses. The secondary objective is to retrieve the alien Jonas Quinn. Provided that Osiris is either driven off or executed, the SGC has agreed to begin new diplomatic relations with the Pellan people in an effort to secure mining rights.?
?So you?re going ahead, just as I intended,? Kinsey shook his head, his face flushed with barely contained rage. ?Who?s going to lead this little hunt?? His jowls quivered with a strangled chuckle. ?You, Colonel O?Neill??
Jack nodded, too disgusted to speak.
?It figures.? The President cleared his throat and sat back in his chair. His blue eyes became unfocused as he gazed at the ceiling, and then slowly around the room. ?And if I stand in the way? Order the SGC to withdraw, because too many lives have already been damaged or lost??
?Sir, I would submit that you are ultimately responsible for those lives. We should never have gone back to the planet after Colonel O?Neill was rescued,? Secretary Atkins stated flatly.
?Mr. Secretary,? General Hammond sat forward in his seat, a frown etched into his round features. ?The President was not wrong in wanting to secure Naquadria rights from the people of this planet. It is a valuable commodity??
?Agreed, General Hammond,? Atkins cut him off with a scowl. ?However, he could have and should have waited.?
?Yes, he should have,? the Vice President affirmed.
?You haven?t answered my question,? Kinsey pointed out.
?Mr. President, the Cabinet feels that this entire debacle has shone a very bad light on the presidency as a whole, and you as an individual. The Secretaries are of the opinion that personal dislike on your part has clouded your judgment to the point that you cannot be an effective leader for this country at this time?.?
?Are you accusing me of treason, Mr. Vice President??
?No, Sir.?
?I beg to differ,? the older man retorted acerbically. ?You accuse me of not acting for the greater good of this country, but in fact endangering it. Working against our interests by deliberately violating national security...?
?We accuse you of the truth, Kinsey.? Jack interrupted caustically. ?What did Osiris drag out of my head? Do you even know, were you there? I could have spilled my guts, for all we know Osiris could be on his way here right now!?
?Colonel O?Neill, as you yourself have said, we were not aware of Osiris? existence until after your return,? the Vice President interjected.
?I know that, Sir. I also know that Jonas Quinn could have, and most likely has revealed enough additional information for Osiris to launch an effective attack on this planet. Assuming he has the weapons to do it. An attack that could have been prevented if the President had held off and gotten all the facts before moving forward.? Jack trailed off and looked at Hammond, who was nodding ever so slightly. ?We can?t bury our heads in the sand now that the secrets are out,? he added coldly.
?I concur, Colonel,? Allen cleared his throat. ?Mr. President, the SGC has the full support of the Cabinet and myself. We will move ahead. If you persist with any attempts to delay the operation or manipulate the personnel involved, I will invoke section 4 of the 25th Amendment.?
Jack forced himself not to smile at the disconcerted scowl that crossed Kinsey?s face. To his credit, the statesmen did not offer a counter threat, but simply sat. Staring into space for a long moment.
Have a stroke, you miserable bastard, The thought was pure acid and sent a tremor racing the length of Jack?s sweaty back. The idea that any human being could engender such hate from him was troubling in more ways then he cared to admit. Heaving a restless sigh, he rubbed his arms against the chill that seemed to emanate from the President?s glowering countenance.
?You?ve thought this through, I grant you that, Rory,? Kinsey murmured to the Vice President. His pale hands clasped on the desk in front of him as he slowly shook his head. ?I knew the day I met you, Colonel O?Neil, that you would be trouble.?
?Nice to know I?ve lived up to your expectations,? Jack replied darkly.
The President chuckled humorlessly. ?The infamous O?Neill wit. It didn?t save you from the Pellans, did it Colonel??
Jack clenched his teeth against the acidic retort that fought to pass his lips. Adamant that Kinsey would not have the satisfaction of riling him, no matter how much it hurt.
?I will not stand in the way of the SGC?s plans for P2Z-421,? the President declared, as his eyes darkened to wells of cobalt fire. ?However, I will be watching. If Osiris comes, you will have more to worry about then any super weapon he may have developed. You can be sure that each and every one of the people involved in this conspiracy against me will pay.?
?A threat?? Jack asked softly, matching the older man?s intense gaze point for point.
?A promise.?
Continued in Part Eleven The Longest Night
