The Hostage

Author: Badgergater with a plot bunny by KG

Email: [email protected]

Season: 5

Category: Action/Adventure, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Jack and Daniel fight each other, and the desert, to survive

Spoilers: Stuff through 5

Warnings: Violence, nastiness, an occasional bad word

Rating: PG

Pairing: None

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate, and I acknowledge the power of those fortunate folks who do: I don't make any money off this either, but you can't post or print this anywhere without my permission.

Author's Note: Thanks to Karen for the bunny, with apologies for taking soooo long to get this finished (sometimes, the muse just gets stubborn); Sid for the beta; Margo for the support; Sis for being Sis; and all those who feedback.

*****

I was bored.

So yeah, okay, I get bored easy. You know that, if you know me.

If I hadn?t been quite so bored, maybe I would have declined the mission. But at the time, it didn?t seem like such a bad idea, despite, well, you?ll find out soon enough.

/----------\

It was Thursday. We?d been on base for eight interminable days while Carter fixed some computer glitch in the planetary search database, which meant no new planetary designations were coming up to be examined, hence no new missions. Daniel and Teal?c kept busy occupying themselves with helping Nyan translate some ancient Goa?uld text SG-11 had found somewhere, and me, I was having a wonderful time with personnel evaluations, new equipment assessments and trying to find replacements for a couple of teams that had recently found themselves shorthanded. Paperwork. Ugh.

The summons to Hammond?s office for a briefing on a possible mission was good news.

Or so I thought at the time. "Mission briefing? Yes, Sir," I said into the phone enthusiastically. Action. Adventure. Something to *do*. All right!!

I grabbed my coffee cup and started for the briefing room, throwing a fond farewell look at the stack of still unfinished paperwork littering my desk. I still dreamed of the idea of someday coming home and it would have all just disappeared, completed by the paperwork fairy. Or have been eaten by my desk. Anything.

If someone had told me being a Colonel meant doing so much paperwork, I?d have refused the last promotion, last two promotions, actually. Ahhh, you?ve got to love the military. It?s government service after all.

And that means red tape and paperwork.

But no more paperwork, at least for a few days, not with a new planet to explore.

Rounding the corner of the hallway, I nearly ran head on into Dr. Daniel Jackson, my team?s linguist/archaeologist and all around general troublesome civilian pain in the ass. Well, actually, Daniel nearly ran head on into me, since *I* was actually the one paying attention to where I was going and managed to avoid hitting him. He had his head down and his eyes fixed on reading something in the foot thick book he was carrying. As usual.

"Morning, Daniel," I said.

"Ah, hi Jack," was his distracted answer.

"Reading Playboy again?" I asked.

He pushed his glasses back up his nose, but remained distracted. "No," a hand waved in the air, "it?s a text on the ancient Middle Eastern gods?"

"Fascinating, I expect," I added, as I deftly helped him maneuver past a trio of SFs passing us in the hall.

"Yes. Very."

We arrived at the briefing room without any further close encounters of the hallway kind. I took my customary spot at what would be the General?s right, Daniel sitting across from me, Teal?c taking a seat next to me. Carter came in with several disks she inserted into the computer before handing each of us a neat blue covered report folder and taking the chair next to Daniel.

Brains on one side, brawn on the other, I thought briefly.

Picking up the folder, I read: Mission Briefing: P4Q-002 was the title. Cover page, title page, table of contents. Hell, I bet she even had bullet point summaries. Count on Carter to have everything done prim and proper.

As I was about to open the folder, Hammond joined us. "Good morning, people."

"And a good morning it is, Sir," I opined. "Or will be. I hope."

The General fixed me with one of those looks he seems to reserve only for me, the ?watch it, Colonel or you could soon be a corporal? one. "Major, any word on the computer program?"

Carter shook her head. "It?s still not on line, Sir, but we?ve got the problem pinpointed, and we should be back up in a few days."

"Good. While this lull has allowed the teams to get some much-needed rest, and our scientific personnel has had a chance to catch up a little, I can see that some of us are getting a little ?restive,? shall we say?" he added, staring pointedly at me.

I stopped my fingers from drumming on the table, gave him my best ?who me?? look, and cleared my throat. "So, Major, we?ve got a possible destination?"

"Yes, Sir, P4Q-002 was a planet we?d actually bypassed several months ago because the UAV flyover didn?t show anything of interest. However, having recently updated the UAV?s systems to expand its survey range, we used the planet for a test and found this?" Carter punched a button on the remote and the computer screen showed a bit of film. At first, there was nothing but rocks, sand and scrub brush?

"Well, that looks thrilling," I commented. "Desert. Something we?ve *never* seen before?"

Just then, something besides nothing showed up on the viewscreen. A fair sized town, dusty brown walls, people moving about clad in what looked like burnooses, leading animals that looked remarkably like camels. It looked very much like your everyday middle eastern Earth oasis.

Daniel was on his feet now. "Sam was able to zoom in on the village, and we found this?" Using the remote he?d taken from Carter, Daniel switched the film to a still picture of a tall column. "The writing on it is definitely Arabic script." He rattled off several sentences in the language. "Basically, what is says is False Gods, Beware!, The people of Quantoon deny you entrance."

"I have heard of this place. Quantoon is a planet the Goa?uld have been warned to avoid," Teal?c stated. "It is said any Goa?uld who goes there shall be driven mad."

"So there?s some sort of Goa?uld trap on that planet?" Carter asked.

"That?s possible. Here, see it says?." Daniel?s voice droned on.

That?s when I stopped listening. Okay, I?ll admit it, that?s not such a rare thing for me to do in briefings when Daniel and Carter got going. It was just, well, the fact is, Daniel didn?t have to translate all those words for me. I knew a lot of them. I knew a lot of Arabic, actually. Not that he knew that, of course. No one here did, except maybe Hammond, or Doc. I don?t talk much about my past, ever, and especially about that particularly nasty bit of it, my extended visit to the Middle East. You learn a lot of a language when you get four months of total immersion in it. I shuddered as a chill shivered down my spine. Don?t think about it, Jack.

I can handle it, I answered myself with a little nod.

"Colonel?" Hammond was staring at me, they were all staring at me in fact.

"Uh, Sir? Sorry. I ah? wasn?t? ah," I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. "Go on," I waved at Carter.

She stared strangely at me, then resumed. "Sirs, like I said, Daniel and I think we need to find out more about this Goa?uld defense these people have."

Daniel nodded in agreement. "Other than Abydos, we have not encountered any Middle Eastern cultures in all our off-world travels. We have no idea what we might find there?"

My stomach felt queasy. Right, no idea what horrors lurked there.

Damn it Jack, stop that, I ordered myself.

"We can be ready to go Monday morning, Sir, if you give us the go ahead," Daniel suggested.

Hammond turned to me. "Colonel?"

I waved a hand at the others around the table. "If the kids want to go, who am I to stop them? Khartoum it is."

"Quantoon," Daniel corrected.

Carter smiled.

Teal?c looked unperturbed as always.

I shivered.

"Okay, people, you have a go for P4Q-002 on Monday. Dismissed."

I started to get up to leave.

"Colonel, stay a minute, would you?" Hammond asked softly.

I sat silently while the others filed out, Jackson and Carter talking animatedly as they exited the room. Teal?c gave me a brief odd questioning glance, but silently followed the others out the door.

Hammond was standing now, looking down toward the Stargate, his back to me.

I was still seated, doodling on my note pad on which I?d taken no notes during Carter and Daniel?s presentations.

Finally, the General turned slowly to face me.

"Jack, you don?t have to do this if you don?t want to," he said softly.

"Why wouldn?t I want to?" I asked innocently.

Hammond?s eyes were boring into mine. "It just seems that this might call up a few ugly memories."

"Sir?" I tried to look guileless.

"Jack, I know about Ir?"

I jumped in quickly, before he could finish. "Yes, Sir, I know you know. And you?re the only one who knows, except Fraiser maybe. And that?s how it should be."

Hammond was looking at me appraisingly. "Are you sure you don?t have a problem with this?"

"No problem," I lied, and knew I was lying, even as I told myself I wasn?t lying. "Those demons were exorcised a long time ago, Sir."

"Colonel, I could send a different team?"

"And deny Daniel and Carter their fun? No need."

"I could let you stand down?"

"That?s not necessary, Sir. I?ll go and I?ll be fine."

He looked hard at me, and finally, nodded. "If you?re sure?"

"Absolutely?"

"Jack, there?s no shame in?"

God damn. There was that look in his eyes, the one I hadn?t seen much in the last five years, the one I?d grown to hate 10 years ago, the one that said, ?pity the poor bastard? the look I hated more than anything. The one I didn?t want to ever see again. The one that made me more determined than ever to prove to him, to myself, that I really was long past what had happened to me. "My team goes, I go. Monday morning. We?ll be ready. All of us."

So neither one of us made a good decision that morning. What can I say except that hindsight is 20/20.

-------/----------\----------

At 0900 Monday morning, SG-1 assembled in the gateroom, all of us dressed in desert camo. As we waited for the big kawoosh, General Hammond joined us. "Colonel, you and your team have a go. Make it a good trip, Colonel," he nodded at me.

"As always, Sir," I snapped him one of my usual mediocre salutes, and turned to follow the rest of SG-1 into the wormhole.

/----------\

As I stepped out of the gate, and looked around me at the desert, the thought of all that paperwork on my desk suddenly became a lot more appealing. It was hot, dry and dusty, and I knew that from only the first lungful of air. I adjusted my sunglasses against the bright glare glinting off the white sand as I glanced around at my team.

Teal?c was standing alertly, watching the dunes that surrounded us. Carter was checking out the DHD, her expression making it plain there was no problem. Daniel was all but drooling over some carvings on stones arrayed in a row leading away from the gate platform.

"Carter?"

"Town?s that way, Sir,"

"Then that?s where we?re going. Come on, Daniel."

It was a long, hot, dusty walk.

About a mile from the city, we met the locals.

Nice folks.

They came walking out to meet us, jabbering at Daniel, asking who we were and where we came from and what we wanted. They seemed a little suspicious, but not too worried. In fact, they invited us to stay and refresh ourselves at their guest house and join the sheik for a big dinner in our honor.

Daniel translated rapidly.

Not that he needed to, but I didn?t bother to tell him that.

/----------\

"Nice place," I commented half an hour later as a young man named Kabir escorted us to our quarters. The rooms were airy, cooled by the thick stone walls. Bright colored cushions were scattered around the floor and elaborate tapestries lined the walls. "All we need are the belly-dancing girls."

Carter threw me a dirty look. I shrugged. Guess my sense of humor was a little off this trip. So sue me.

Actually, it wasn?t a bad place. You can?t beat a nice, cool bath after a long walk in the hot sun. It was relaxing, even if it didn?t take the tightness out of my shoulders. Nothing was going to, not on this trip.

We dressed for dinner, and I once again selected my lovely camo sandcolored khaki uniform accented by an always elegant black 9 mm.

As we gathered at the door, Daniel glared at me. "I really don?t think you need to take a gun along to dinner Jack. These people seem very friendly."

"Just being cautious, Daniel."

"Well, you?re going to keep it out of sight, aren?t you?"

"Sure," I agreed, stuffing the weapon into the back of my waistband. "Inconspicuous enough for you?"

He nodded in agreement, and we all left for dinner.

/----------\

It was a nice dinner, what I remember of it. I?m not sure what the main dish was, some sort of camel casserole I think, though it tasted like chicken, and spicy vegetables.

The natives were friendly, downright jovial.

Or so it seemed.

There was something going on, though. I could see it in their eyes, the eyes of the sheik and his warriors, something in the way they were looking at us. Assessing. Wondering. Debating. Waiting.

"Daniel, I think we should be cautious with these people," I whispered at him as we sat down to the meal.

"Jack, they haven?t made a single suspicious move."

"No, but there?s something going on."

"You?re just being paranoid, Jack."

"I?m always paranoid. It?s what?s kept me alive so long."

"They seem quite peaceful. And we haven?t seen any weapons."

"At least none that we recognize." I looked at the ornate jewelry some of them wore, heavy armbands and broad gold necklaces. The loose clothing they wore could be covering an RPG, for all we could tell.

"Sir, I haven?t seen anything weaponlike, either," Carter added.

"Nor have I, O?Neill," Teal?c agreed with the others. "They have been cautious of us, but friendly."

"Yet they claim to have driven out the Goa?uld," I reminded my team. "Maybe we should be asking them how?" I raised an eyebrow in Daniel?s direction.

He nodded. "After we eat."

/----------\

I didn?t eat much. I wasn?t hungry. There was something uncomfortable curling around in my gut, and it wasn't that camel casserole. Paranoia? Worry? Justifiable concern? Old, bad memories? I wasn?t sure, but it was there.

/----------\

The meal was finished, the dishes taken away, more wine was brought, and our cups were refilled.

I hadn?t touched mine.

The sheik stared hard at me, then turned to Daniel. "Your O?Neill does not drink, nor did he partake of our food. Does he not trust us? Are our offerings not adequate?"

"No, no, it is just our custom for one of our group to remain on guard, and therefore cannot eat or drink while on duty," Daniel ad libbed.

"And the other?"

"Teal?c, because of his symbiote, does not drink alcoholic beverages."

The sheik nodded.

When the sheik turned away, I leaned over toward Daniel. "Good story," I whispered at my team?s archaeologist.

"Thanks," he said, then his head whipped back around to stare at me. "Ah, Jack, how did you know what I told him?"

Damn. I hadn?t meant to slip up. "I, ah, do have a little familiarity with the language?"

Daniel?s eyes widened in surprise, one eyebrow lifting. Under other circumstances, it might have been humorous.

"I spent some time in the Middle East. Once. A long time ago." I hoped he would leave it at that. "Just enough to understand a bit here and there, that?s all."

"Uh-huh," he muttered.

The incident was forgotten as the night wore on. Daniel kept asking questions, engaged in long conversations with the sheik and his people. Finally, the archaeologist turned back to me, excitement on his face. "It seems they have some way of detecting Goa?ulds, and whatever this method is, it reveals the presence of a symbiote by causing hallucinations, strong enough, apparently, to drive the Goa'uld out of the host."

"This method won?t hurt any of us, will it? Like Carter. She?s got naquadah in her blood, remember."

"No. As much as anything, it seems to be based on one?s intentions toward the people here." Daniel added. "They say it won't harm anyone but a Goa'uld, not even a Jaffa. They recognize what Teal'c is, but they don?t seem concerned. Jack, you realize what this could mean? A way to de-Goa'uld someone?"

The whole thing seemed to have energized Daniel. His talk and gestures became even more animated than usual. Funny, it seemed to be contagious to Carter, too. Both of them were talking a mile a minute at each other, Daniel getting to his feet and striding around the room with the sheik, peering at the wall decorations, asking rapid-fire questions. Carter was right there with him, firing off more inquiries that the archaeologist translated, questions about some doohickies that she saw on the tapestries and murals. The artwork was obviously some sort of Quantoon history.

I sat back and watched, growing more and more uncomfortable, but not sure why.

/----------\

The night wore on. Daniel was still talking, I was getting bored. That?s when it started to happen. I noticed both Carter and Daniel slowing, getting a little wobbly, like they were really tired. Soon they were slurring their words, slumping down on the cushions, like...

Like they were drugged.

The damn wine!

I jumped up to start toward them when suddenly the door was thrown open, several of the sheik?s warriors crowding into the room. They were definitely armed now, with those big, long, curved scimitars, the swords used in Earth?s Middle Eastern cultures.

The first men in the door grabbed Teal?c, a half dozen men holding him down, fastening chains to his wrists.

Even as I saw Carter and Daniel weren?t going to be any help, both of them slumped on the floor,

I swung a roundhouse left at the first guy who came at me. I threw the punch hard as I could, aiming right on through his chin, and he went down, but there were five, six, seven more, grabbing me, overpowering me with the sheer weight of their numbers. I got in a couple of good licks, but there were too many, and within moments I was on the floor, held in place, kneeling, looking up at the sheik.

"Hospitality." I spat on the floor.

The sheik was not pleased with me. "The Jaffa will not be harmed. We are simply restraining him until we are certain about you. The others, the doctor and the woman, will awaken in a few hours, unharmed by the test." He stalked over to stand above me. "You, O?Neill, you did not drink the wine. You pretended not to know our language, but you do. I do not trust you. So we will give you the GodWine. If you are friendly and peaceful, as your friend says, nothing will happen to you except pleasant dreams. If, like the Goa?uld, you are not who you seem to be, the GodWine will bring its power to work in you, cloud your conscious mind, revealing your true identity, your true nature."

I muttered a half dozen curses I remembered from my old friends in Iraq as I told the sheik exactly what he could do with his wine.

The sheik was not amused. He nodded at one of the men holding me.

Someone grabbed my chin, forced my teeth apart, and poured the liquid down my throat. I gagged and retched, trying to spit it out, but it was either swallow it or inhale it.

I swallowed.

The men released me.

I surged to my feet, but the room was already spinning, spinning very, very fast. I stumbled, took a staggering step toward the Quantoon?s leader, and collapsed to the floor. As I fell, the only thing that penetrated the fog that filled my brain was the sound of their voices, the words in Arabic, words I remembered. "Lock them up. Lock them up."

Oh, God, not again. Within moments, the visions started, visions of a small, hot cell, of men who spoke Arabic as they came for me, as they dragged me out of the safe darkness, into the light, and the pain started? Oh God, not again?

/----------\

I woke with an immense headache.

My first thought was that something on this planet had triggered my allergies. Or a migraine.

And then I realized that wasn?t the situation at all because I could see that Sam was unconscious, Teal'c was tied up, and Jack... Jack was pacing, mumbling to himself, a look of rage on his face like I'd never seen before.

What the hell had happened to us?

I must have moaned aloud because suddenly Jack spun to look at me, his eyes dark and wild, his jaw clenched. In three quick strides he was across the room, his hand roughly gripping my shoulder and hauling me upright, shaking me.

"Jack, let go!" I complained.

He looked startled, then his eyes tightened, and a look like I'd never seen appeared on his face, a closed down, devious look that was frightening in its intensity. "How do you know my name?" he demanded.

"Ah, well, gee I've known you for five years..."

He shook me again, hard. "Don't give me that crap!" he snapped. "Who are you?"

"Jack, this isn't funn...Ow!" All that shaking was not helping my headache.

"Tell me who you are!"

"I'm Daniel Jackson, I'm on your team, just like they are," I waved a hand at Teal'c and Sam.

"He will not listen, DanielJackson..." Teal'c started.

"I already told you to shut up!" O'Neill ordered, glaring at the Jaffa. Turning back to me he demanded again, "Tell me who you are, all of you. And no lies!"

"I'm not lying." I pulled back, trying to break free of his bruising grip. It didn't work, his grip just got tighter.

"Tell me the truth."

"I *am* telling the truth. My name is Dr. Daniel Jackson and I?m the archaeologist on your team..."

His face was suddenly inches from mine, his anger and his hatred terrifyingly intense. "An archaeologist? On a Special Ops team? That?ll be the day. You are a liar, and not a very clever one, bud. There's no doctor of any kind on my team, never has been. You're a plant, a spy, but it won't work. I'm on to their game, *your* game. You are *not* fooling me so you might as well tell me the truth. Now."

As O'Neill shook me again I could see Teal?c struggling to get free.

"O?Neill, DanielJackson is telling you the truth?"

Jack turned his glare on our Jaffa teammate. "So I?m supposed to take your word about him? Now there?s the pot calling the kettle black?"

It was hard to concentrate because of the way my head was throbbing, and Jack?s shouting was making it worse. "Listen, I don?t know what?s wrong with you, Jack, but you know me, you know all of us. That?s Sam, and he?s Teal?c and I?m Daniel..."

Jack shoved me, and before I hit the floor, he was on top of me, his long legs straddling my chest, and the little hide out knife from his boot was at my throat.

I gulped. I?ve always known there was a very nasty, very dark, very dangerous side to Jack O'Neill, but I'd never expected to see it up close and personal and directed at me. "Jack," I said softly..."

"*If* you were a member of my team, you?d know it?s *Captain* O'Neill." Swiftly, his hands left my throat and he pulled off my belt, wrapping it tightly around my wrists. Yanking me to my feet by my hands, he dragged me across the room to the door, where he peered out the small window that opened into the hallway.

After staring out the door for several long moments, he turned back to me. "Now, *Doctor*, if you really are one, we are going out there, across the compound and out that gate. If you so much as whimper, I'll slit your throat. Do you understand?"

"What the hell is wrong with y....Ahh!" his fingers were wrapped around my throat like a vise.

Jack?s voice was low and tight. "What did I just tell you? Let me repeat it once more for clarity. I told you to be quiet. If you understand, shake your head yes."

I shook my head no.

He stared at me, suddenly looking more surprised than angry. His grip on my throat loosened enough that I could breathe, and maybe even talk again.

Maybe this was my chance to get through to him. I didn't know what had been done to him, but something had happened after Sam and I had passed out, that was for sure because in the five years I'd worked with Jack O'Neill, I'd never seen him behave like this. Very slowly and softly, I said, "Jack, listen to me. I don't know what?s happened to you, but I'm your teammate and your friend, so are they. If you calm down, we'll all get out of here and go home. Let Janet take a look at you..."

"I'm going home all right. And you're going to help me get there."

Grabbing me again, he wrapped one arm around my throat, walking behind me, using me like a shield. "You will be quiet," he hissed, "or you will be dead. Got that, buddy?"

I nodded.

This was not starting out to be a good day.

/----------\

As they neared the doorway, I made one final attempt to stop their departure. "O?Neill, do not do this!"

O?Neill turned to look at me, but the face, the eyes I saw, were not those of the commander whose lead I have gladly followed across the galaxy. They were the eyes of a stranger, uncaring, unyielding, determined.

And alone.

Helplessly, I watched O?Neill force DanielJackson out of the room.

I looked across the room toward MajorCarter, but she was still unconscious. I struggled against my bonds once more, but could not break free.

I did not understand what the Quantoon?s drug had done to O?Neill. I could only hope that he would regain his senses before it was too late and irreparable harm was done to SG-1.

/----------\

It wasn?t yet dawn. The compound was dark and quiet. I could see a guard on the wall, but he was looking outward, not into the town. Jack pushed me ahead of him, and I stumbled across the uneven stones, unable to see the ground beneath my feet because of the way he had his arm wedged around my throat.

Pushing me in front of him once more, we resumed our silent journey.

/----------\

A nerve-wracking hour later, as dawn was brightening the sky, we finally slipped out of the town.

I still didn?t know what was going on, and I couldn?t stop trying to find an explanation. I knew I?d been drugged, and it probably had something to do with the local?s ability to defy the Goa?uld. If they?d drugged the food, we?d all eaten together, including Teal?c and Jack. Yet only Sam and I had passed out. Neither Jack nor Teal?c seemed to have the headache I was blessed with. Of course, normally I?d expect Junior would have protected Teal?c. Except these people had the ability to detect a Goa?uld. So it was unlikely that a symbiote could counteract what was intended to affect a Go?auld. And why was Jack acting the way he was? What had happened to him after I?d passed out?

My memory wasn?t real clear, but the only difference I could recall was the wine. Sam and I drank it, Jack and Teal?c didn?t.

Which still didn?t explain why was Jack acting the way he was.

He wasn?t a Goa?uld was he?

I spun around to stare at my friend?s face but nothing was revealed there. I hadn?t seen his eyes flash, even when he?d looked positively vicious back there, so I doubted he was a Goa?uld, thank God.

I needed more information.

Information I was not about to get, not with Jack dragging me off into the desert.

Turning to Jack once again, I stopped. "Where are we going?"

"None of your business."

"I think it is. You are taking me somewhere after all."

"You don?t need to know." He was pointing his gun at me, the knife apparently put away, back in the sheath on his belt.

"Yes, I do," I answered trying to keep my voice level and calm, something his was definitely not.

O?Neill?s hand was suddenly gripping my short hair, pulling my head back, shoving the gun against my head. "The only thing you need is to shut up and do as you're told. You talk a lot, you know that?" He pushed me away and I fell awkwardly, what with my hands still tied.

He stalked toward me and I scrambled to get away because the anger was there in his eyes again, anger directed at me.

Jack motioned for me to move again, and I did. Soon I realized where we were going. "So, we?re going to the gate. That?s good," I said conversationally.

"The gate? What gate?"

"The Stargate," I said slowly.

"I don?t know what the hell you?re talking about. You know full well where we?re going."

"And that would be where?"

"Toward my lines."

"Your lines?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yeah. The front lines. Where the battle is, or was. Where my people are, the *Americans*. You remember us? The Great Satans you are going to destroy," sarcasm dripped from his words. "The mother of all battles has been a mother of nothing."

"The mother of all?" and then it dawned on me like a brick wall falling on me. He was talking about the war against Iraq, a war that had ended ten years ago. "Jack?"?

"I told you not to call me that," he snapped.

"Okay, okay, Colonel."

He laughed. "Oh, you?re some suck up, Daniel buddy. Do you see colonel written on my uniform? As if I?ll ever make colonel." He laughed again, but there was no humor in it.

To be honest, it was terrifying, dark, bitter and nasty.

"Ja?Col?Captain listen to me. Those people back there drugged you?"

"Yeah right, they did lots of things to me," he answered cryptically.

"You?re not yourself."

He snorted. "If I?m not myself, then who am I, huh?" He tilted his head in that familiar, belligerent way.

"You and I, we?re teammates. We?ve been working together for the last five years on the Stargate project. The Gulf War was ten years ago."

His smile was mocking. "How gullible do you think I am?"

"You?re not gullible. I know you?re not. You never are. I know you. I know Sara your wife, and Charlie?"

In an instant, his face contorted, his dark eyes flashed. He slammed me backwards and I fell into the sand. Jack landed on top of me, his left hand twisting in the collar of my t-shirt, his right hand jamming the barrel of the gun into my throat.

"Don?t you talk about my family, you sick bastard?"

"Jack, please?"

He jerked me hard, again.

I tried to talk fast, to get through to him. I know Jack is smart. I?ve always known that. Sure, he puts up that front. Of course, he can be obtuse and devious and utterly, purposefully wantonly ignorant. But he?s a smart man, in some ways much smarter than I am. He?s actually much brighter than most people ever give him credit for, and that?s exactly why he does it-so that people don?t see him as clever, but as some thick-headed soldier. So they underestimate him. And that gives him an advantage.

I never underestimate him. I?ve seen him at work. And I?ve never, ever wanted him mad at me, especially not the demented way he was angry at me right then. I didn?t know what he actually did during his special ops days, but I knew he could kill a man barehanded. I?d seen him do it. And I didn?t want him doing it to me.

"Listen. Please. I?m not an Iraqi. Listen. I speak American English?"

"Right. Never watched any old movies, have you? The infiltrators always speak perfect American. Hell, you probably went to school in the U.S?"

"I did, in Chicago."

"Then tell me, what?s the name of the baseball park where the Cubs play? Huh?"

"I don?t know. I never went there. I don?t like sports. I don?t know anything about sports. You know that."

"I don?t know anything about you."

"Yes you do. You know me, and you know my wife. You helped me search for her, for Sha?re..."

"That name doesn?t sound very American," Jack muttered suspiciously.

Damn, I thought, wrong topic. Desperately, I tried to think of things I knew about Jack, things from before 1992, and I realized how little I really did know about this man I thought of as my best friend. "You are blood type A?"

"It says that on my dogtags?"

I wracked my brain for the tidbits I knew about O?Neill. "You were born in Chicago. Grew up in Minnesota, where your granddad has a cabin where you like to go fishing. You like hockey and curling and, and you don?t like yogurt?"

That seemed to surprise him a little. He stared assessingly at me, and finally shook his head. "Boy, you guys are good. That?s quite a dossier you?ve got on me. I would never have guessed Iraqi intelligence had that much info. Of course, you probably got it from the Russians."

He pulled me again to my feet. "Now walk. We?ve got a long ways to go."

"How do you know where we?re going?" I asked.

"That way?s southwest," he pointed ahead of me. "That?s the way I?ll find my lines."

"Southwest? How do you know that?"

O?Neill pointed back the way we?d traveled. "Sun rose back there. Means it will set there," he pointed just to the right of our line of travel, "so that?s southwest. Walk. Before I get annoyed and just shoot you."

/----------\

We walked for several hours, meeting no one. We were still traveling in the general direction of the Stargate. Maybe if he saw it, it would help him remember.

It didn?t. He stopped dead in his tracks when we finally came within sight of the gate. "What the hell is that? Eh? Some new kind of radar installation? A weapon? What?"

"It?s the Stargate. Like I told you."

"And what?s it for?"

"For travel to other planets."

He laughed derisively. "Boy, you must have read way too much science fiction when you were in the States. *At school.* Bet you believe Star Wars and ET are real, too, huh?"

"Jack, we came here through that gate. You, Sam, Teal?c, and me. Don?t you remember?"

"What I remember is telling you to call me Captain. Now use your breath for walking, not talking."

We went on.

/----------\

~Jack O?Neill~

Man, this guy never shuts up. Jabbermouth, endlessly spouting nonsense. Except for those things he knew, that he shouldn?t know, that he couldn?t possibly know. How could they know about my family? That was a scary thought. Thank God they?re back in Colorado, with Sara?s folks. Safe. Far away from here. But I will be going home to them soon. Oh God, yes, soon.

Bright, sunny images of home flashed in front of my eyes, happy scenes of Sara and Charlie and me. And then, just as suddenly, the pictures turned dark. The cell. The beatings. The never ending questions I couldn?t answer and wouldn?t have if I could have. The pain. The darkness. The hunger. The thirst. The dirt. The horror. The despair. The anguish. The agony. Always. Forever. Endless.

Pain spiked through my skull as my ears roared and the ground tilted under my feet. Damn. "Arrgghhh," I moaned, crashing to my knees, my hands flying up to cradle my throbbing head, trying to stop the despair, anger, terror, agony?

Dimly, I heard a voice ask, "Jack?"

I opened my eyes, glaring up at my captive who was staring down at me. "You stay away from me you sonuvabitch," I spat at him, staggering to my feet, swaying, pulling the gun out of my waistband. Somewhere I found the strength to hold onto it, to keep my hand from shaking and my teeth from chattering. "Get back. Face that way, on the ground, on your knees."

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. Everything was weird, too bright, flashing lights, bright colors, words, sounding odd, strange, hollow, echoing in my head. Gasping for air, fighting for control, fighting the memories, oh God, the bastards, fists flying out of the darkness, blows I couldn?t block, shouted words I didn?t understand, the snap of electricity snarling through my nerves?

"No no no no. No more."

/----------\

~Sam Carter~

"The Colonel did what?" I was rubbing the back of my neck, trying to rid myself of the headache, telling myself that I?d misheard Teal?c's statement because it couldn?t possibly be true.

"He left, forcing DanielJackson to accompany him."

"He *forced* Daniel?"

"O?Neill was behaving strangely. He did not appear to recognize any of us. He seemed to regard all of us as the enemy, especially DanielJackson. After he was given the wine, he spoke of going home to his wife and son, and of a desert place where he was held prisoner."

Just then the door opened, and the sheik and several of his men entered. They looked around, startled, to see only two remaining prisoners. Immediately, the native leader started asking questions, his shouts getting louder with every word.

I didn?t understand a thing he said, and unfortunately neither did Teal?c.

Finally, frustrated, he went silent, looking from me to Teal?c and back again.

"What happened to Colonel O?Neill? Do you know where our friends went?" Helpless stares greeted my question. I tried to pantomime, holding up two fingers, then shrugging my shoulders as I looked around.

They either didn?t understand, didn?t know or didn't care.

After a moment, the sheik waved a hand at one of his men, who produced a key from his pocket and unlocked the manacles that restrained Teal?c. The Jaffa rose, rubbing his wrists.

The sheik was making motions at us.

"Uh, Teal?c, I think they want us to leave."

"I believe that is a correct assessment, MajorCarter," he agreed.

I looked around for our gear, and saw one of the men had carried it in. Quickly, I found my vest and other equipment, and Teal?c did the same.

The men watched us, and when we had gathered up all our things, they escorted us out of the room, out of the building, across the square and out of the town.

I kept trying to communicate with them, to ask where Daniel and the Colonel were, but the only clue they gave us was to point toward the distant dunes that hid the Stargate, holding up two fingers, and making that little wiggling motion that indicated walking.

It was the best we could expect.

Teal?c and I started down the trail.

After just a few steps, he paused, studying the ground. "MajorCarter, I believe ColonelO?Neill and DoctorJackson went this way," the Jaffa pointed at marks in the sand. "These appear to be the prints of boots, of the type we wear. The natives wear only sandals."

Good news at last. "Can you track them?"

He nodded.

"Okay, let?s go then."

/----------\

~Daniel Jackson~

We walked through the desert heat. There was nothing but hardpacked sand, here and there a sparse, dry bush but mostly just mile after mile of sand dunes and hot sun. Sweat trickled down my neck and stung my eyes; my mouth was as arid as the sand around me.

I?m usually comfortable in the desert; I feel at home there. But not like this, not with Jack acting strange and holding me prisoner.

Three hours past the Stargate, we came upon a river.

/----------\

Good thing, too, since we had only one canteen between us. Gratefully, I trudged down to the shore and scooped handfuls of water into my parched mouth, sluicing more down my neck and washing my face. Mindful of the last time I?d sipped water from a stream while being held prisoner, I was careful to be sure there weren?t any nasty surprises in the water, like Goa?uld larva.

Jack wasn?t going to try to cross this, was he? The river was wide, the current obviously fast and the water looked quite deep.

After studying the terrain for a few moments, Jack pointed downstream. "Go that way."

"You think you know this river?"

"Don't need to. It's got to be a tributary of the Tigris, which means it will take us south, where I'll find my fellow Americans."

"It won't. There aren't any other Americans here. This isn?t the Tigris River. This isn?t Iraq?"

"Shut up!"

"Listen to me. Look around. You?ve never seen this place, you?ve never been here, this isn?t?"

Furious, he slapped me, a stinging blow across the cheek.

I put my hand up to my face. "Well, that?s an eloquent way to win an argument."

For a moment, I thought he was going to hit me again. Instead, he just glared and pushed me to move.

/----------\

The sun was sinking. It was going to be night soon. While we had water, thanks to the river, I?d had nothing to eat since the sheik?s dinner party the night before and my stomach was growling. As I knew all too well, it was going to get cold out here in the desert once the sun went down. We didn?t have our jackets, we were wearing just short sleeved t-shirts that weren?t going to keep us warm during the long night.

When Jack finally stopped, I sank to the sand, falling on my knees, exhausted. Though I knew he had to be tired too, he didn?t rest but prowled around, keeping a close eye on me. Finally, he came back to where I was, and shoved me down flat in the sand. Moving quickly, he unfastened my belt from around my wrists, jerking my arms around behind my back. Taking off his own belt, he fastened my arms to my legs, still bent at the knees. I was quite effectively trussed up. He?d forced me down in a little hollow, and suddenly pushing me to lie on my side, he began throwing sand over my legs.

"What are you doing?"

He stopped, looked at me oddly. "You?d rather freeze to death tonight?"

I shook my head, and he went back to work, burying me up to the shoulders. I had to admit, it was warm, if not particularly comfortable. "You aren?t going to leave me like this all night, are you?"

"What, think it might be uncomfortable?" The anger glinted again in his eyes. "I know something about *uncomfortable,* and that?s nothing, spyboy."

/----------\

I had no idea how uncomfortable it was going to get.

As I watched, mouth watering, he ate one of the MREs, wolfing it down like a starving man.

"Ah, not going to share?" I asked hopefully.

"No," he didn't even look up at me, just kept shoveling the food into his mouth.

When he was done, he buried the trash in the sand, and settled in to sleep, burying himself in the warm ground like he'd done to me.

I didn?t sleep much, but then, I don?t think Jack slept much either. Just as I did, he seemed to doze uneasily at times. It seemed like he had a couple of nasty nightmares, though. Once he woke up shouting, struggling and shaking and staying awake for a long time afterward. He didn?t say anything, just glared defiantly at me.

Eventually, even the sand lost its warmth. As the night wore on, I began to shiver, trying to stay warm, really hard to do when you're tied up and can barely move. I was grateful when dawn finally came, aching to move, if I still could, and get the circulation going in my limbs again.

As soon as it was light enough to see, Jack uncovered me and untied me.

I groaned as I pulled my hands around in front of me, where he quickly refastened them. My legs were so cramped I could barely move them, but he prodded me to my feet and watched while I awkwardly relieved myself. We went on with nothing more than water for breakfast.

/----------\

I don?t know what prompted it. Like yesterday, and last night, I think it might have been a flashback or a hallucination, probably something from the drug the Quantoon had given us. One moment he was walking along behind me, as we?d been doing for hours, and the next I heard him groan.

Spinning around, I saw him drop to his knees, deathly pale, eyes closed, head down, swaying, moaning, the gun dropping from his shaking hand into the dust at his feet.

I didn?t wait this time, or ask.

I had to get the weapon away from him. I lunged for the gun.

Diving into the sand, my fingers brushed across the metal handle of the pistol, missing the grip, knocking it away as his hand swatted at mine. His other hand came upward, the long fingers wrapping themselves around my throat as we both instinctively struggled toward our feet.

I couldn?t breathe.

God, was he going to kill me? His face was contorted into a grimace of pain and rage, and I knew, in that moment, that he was capable of anything.

I?ve never been able to beat Jack O?Neill in a fair fight, not even a sick and hallucinating Jack O?Neill.

So I didn?t fight fair.

As we both surged upright, I slammed my knee into his groin.

Jack went down, gagging.

I couldn't see where the gun had gone, but I yanked the knife out of his belt, turning to get away from him, scrambling to put some distance between him and me. Quicker than I expected, he was surging to his feet, diving at me, landing on my back and knocking me forward, the knife skidding out of my hands into the dust. Using all the skills he'd taught me in hour after hour of hand-to-hand combat training, I slammed my head backwards, into his face. He grunted, and went limp.

I slid to my knees, digging in the dust for the knife, unable to get a decent grip with my bound hands, but finally able to pick it up. Scrambling backwards on my knees, I watched as he rolled in the dirt, blood pouring from his nose, and somehow forced himself to his knees to face me. His face looked gray.

I waved the knife in front of me. "Jack, don?t. Back off. I don?t want to hurt you."

"I won?t let you take me back there. I?d rather be dead than go back there," he said softly, and I knew he meant it. I knew he was going to try something else, too, knew he?d come at me again?

Without so much as a flicker of warning, he dived at me again.

I didn?t want to hurt him, but I did.

He was choking me.

I sliced the knife across his arm, the blood welling, and with a growl of rage, he tightened his fingers around my throat as we rolled across the ground.

Everything was going gray. I was going to pass out any second. Jack forgive me, I thought, and stabbed him, stuck the knife into his thigh, praying I didn?t hit the artery and kill him.

He hollered and fell backward, tearing the knife out of my hand, the blade still buried in his leg.

/----------\

We were rolling over and over in the dust. I had one hand at the sneaky little bastard?s throat, the other reaching for the knife.

He cut me, the blade scoring across my forearm, pain shooting up my arm, threatening my grip.

I couldn?t afford to let him go. My fingers tightened on his throat.

No one was taking me back there, I was never going back, I couldn?t go back, couldn?t go through any more of that?

Stupid, Jack, stupid, concentrating so hard on what you were doing you didn?t think what he was doing until he?d done it. There was a moment of blinding pain as cold, sharp steel was driven into the flesh of my thigh.

"Ahhhhh!" I stumbled backwards, the weapon embedded up to the hilt in my leg.

Thank God it was my short little boot knife. Still hurt like hell, though.

Actually, the pain seemed to clear my head, driving away the flashback, the too-bright images of that place, back there, those men who?

"Agggghhh."

Spyboy was on his knees, breathing hard, looking stunned at what he?d done. Sort of an odd, almost guilty, something resembling remorseful look on his face.

I didn?t have time to worry about what he was thinking.

With my good leg, I kicked him in the chin.

He went down like he?d been pole-axed, out like a light.

Good thing, because if I didn?t do something quick about that hunk of metal stuck into my thigh, I was going to join him in the land of the unconscious. Real soon.

/----------\

"This makes no sense. Their tracks go right on past the gate."

An hour ago, I had calculated that we?d catch up to them. Teal?c had been tracking Daniel and the Colonel steadily, and they appeared to be heading straight for the gate. Okay, it *was* unusual for them to leave without us, especially the Colonel, but I could only speculate as to his reasons. Maybe one of them was hurt. Maybe Daniel convinced the Colonel that something was wrong, I didn?t know. But at least, if they were back at the SGC, we could straighten out the situation.

But they hadn?t gone back. Instead, the tracks showed that they?d gone on past the gate.

I was unsure what to do, but as long as we were there, I could send General Hammond a message, requesting that he send a search and rescue team to assist us. After all, the locals hadn?t followed us or seemed at all interested in harassing us in any way. They?d just wanted us gone from their city.

I told Teal?c what I planned to do as I dialed up the gate. Using the MALP as a relay, the moment the wormhole stabilized I tapped my radio. "General Hammond, this is Major Carter."

"Major?" His voice sounded puzzled.

"Teal?c and I have returned to the gate."

"Where are Colonel O?Neill and Doctor Jackson?"

"I'm not sure, Sir. We were captured after being drugged by the natives. Apparently, a chemical in the wine we were given at dinner reveals a Goa'uld and either forces or tricks the symbiote into leaving the body. The Colonel didn't drink any of the wine, so they forced him to ingest the drug."

"He began to act strangely, angry and violent, cursing the natives," Teal'c interjected. He had after all, seen and heard the entire incident, while I?d been unconscious. "I was restrained and unable to help my teammates," he added, his voice soft with regret.

I nodded. "General, the Colonel and Daniel left without us early this morning. We thought they were on their way to the gate, Sir, but their tracks show that they?ve gone on by. We?re going to continue the search?"

"They went past the gate, Major? Why?"

"I don?t know, Sir. The Colonel is not behaving like himself."

"General, O?Neill spoke of a place called Iraq and the need to return home." Teal?c reported.

"Iraq?" The General?s voice sounded very worried. "Major, I think we need to talk."

"Sir, we can?t abandon the search for Daniel and the Colonel."

"Major Carter, I have some information I think could be relevant to the situation. And I don?t want to discuss it here. Return to base now."

"But Sir?" I started.

"Major, not now. I?ll send an S&R team through with you after we?ve talked. Hammond out."

I looked over at Teal?c.

He shrugged. "If we go now, MajorCarter, we can return more quickly."

I nodded, and stepped into the wormhole.

/----------\

Hammond met us at the base of the ramp. "In my office, people," he turned and marched away. Teal?c and I following rapidly on his heels. A moment later a geared up Major Ferretti joined us as we jogged up the stairs.

Once we were all inside, the General moved to stand behind his desk. "Close the door, Major."

Ferretti pulled the door shut.

"Sir?" The situation was getting more and more worrisome.

Hammond looked carefully at each of us, then sighed. "I am uncomfortable revealing this, but I believe given the situation it is imperative that you all know."

"Know what, Sir?"

"I was reluctant to send Colonel O?Neill on this mission, for reasons only he and I know about. The Colonel reassured me that he did not have a problem with the situation, and on his word, I agreed. Apparently, I shouldn?t have?"

"Sir?" I was baffled as to where this conversation could be going, and why we were standing here talking about the Colonel instead of back on that planet looking for him and Daniel.

"You may remember Colonel O?Neill seemed a bit distracted during our briefing," the General continued.

I nodded.

"Because this was a Middle Eastern, Arabic culture. He has a bit of a history with that part of our world."

I stared at the General. "The Colonel? He was in the Gulf War, wasn?t he? I was too..." my voice drifted off.

"What is known by only one other person in this command is the fact that Colonel O?Neill spent four months as an unofficial POW in Iraq. POW, that?s prisoner of war, Teal?c."

"Oh my God," I muttered.

"He was not treated well during that time."

I stared, unable to say anything.

"He was taken prisoner during a botched raid weeks before the official start of the war, after being left for dead by his team. His family was told he?d been killed in action. It was weeks before it was discovered that he was alive and a prisoner. Eventually, at the conclusion of the war, he was rescued by allied forces. In the meantime, he?d been starved, beaten?" Hammond?s voice trailed away. He didn?t have to say the rest.

I remembered the cryptic statements the Colonel had made in Hadante. "He said once, he?d been in prison before. But he never said anything else?"

The General nodded. "It?s not something he ever talks about. I wouldn?t be telling you now, except I?m afraid he may be reliving part of that nightmare. If that?s true, he?s a very dangerous man, and a desperate one. He won?t willingly let himself be captured. If he?s taken Doctor Jackson as a hostage, Jackson is in grave danger." Hammond looked from Teal?c to myself. "Find them. Bring them back alive. And be very careful, Majors."

Ferretti and I saluted, and turned to go.

/----------\/----------\/----------\/----------\/----------\/----------\/----------\/----------\

End of Part One? Go To Part Two