"Daniel?" The fact Daniel was anxious to leave a temple instead of arguing to stay set off alarms in each of his teammates.

"This wall tells the story of the Goa'uld who took possession of this world." Pushing his glasses up, Daniel grabbed his pack from the floor stuffing the camera inside. "Na-air-tay. How could I be so stupid! It sounded so damn familiar. I should have figured it out a long time ago. What the hell was I thinking?"

"Daniel!" O'Neill clutched his arm, forcing the younger man to face him. "Mind telling us what you're babbling about?"

"Na-air-tay is...." At that moment a blinding white light filled the room and the four team members crumpled to the floor unconscious.

Sam kept her eyes closed and her breathing even concentrating on the sounds around her or rather the silence. Uncertain of their current circumstances she lay still, waiting. She'd flown combat in Desert Storm but her most important survival lessons had come from Jack in the last four years of dangerous missions. From the position she was laying, Sam knew the sidearm she'd concealed in the waistband at the small of her back was gone. She could feel the tight bands of manacles binding her wrists. There...the sound of breathing...someone moving.

"Captain Carter?" A large hand came to rest on her forearm. After she'd bitten O'Neill upon waking from the effects of the shock grenade on Klorel's ship, everyone was careful to keep their hands out of biting range.

"Teal'c? You okay?" There was approximately a foot of chain connecting the manacles, allowing them to move their arms without presenting much of a danger to their captors.

"I am uninjured." The Jaffa intoned somberly.

"The colonel and Daniel?"

"We are alone." Teal'c helped her to her feet.

They were enclosed in what might have once been a storage area. Knowing it kept her from wondering what might be happening to their friends, Teal'c let her search the room for an exit other than the door they'd been brought through, just as he had done earlier.

Jack opened his eyes to the familar sights of the jungle. He lay on the ground, the mud soaking into clothes already drenched with rain and the cold sweat of fear. He could still smell the blood that drained from the mutilated body of his friend, hear the death rattle as he'd struggled to breath, could still see the fear in those blue eyes, his glasses long ago broken, fear not for himself but for Jack who was to be the next victim. Why was it so quiet? The laughter, cheers and taunts that had accompanied his friend's pain was gone; almost as if they had died with him.

He glanced around to find himself alone...no not alone...there a few feet away lay the bane of his existance. The master of so much pain and death peacefully sleeping a mere three feet from his prisoner. A prisoner who was no longer bound, no longer weak or weary. More importantly a prisoner whose fear had been replaced with a desperate hunger for vengeance.