Prologue
August 21, 1998
“I have cancer, Sam.”
“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, though her father’s words echoed in her head even as she spoke.
“Lymphoma.” His tone was calm, but she knew that even if he had been terrified, he would never have let his feelings show, especially in front of her.
“That’s bad.” Oncology wasn’t her area of expertise, but she knew enough to know that.
Her father smiled wryly. “Well, it’s not good. But it’s not the worst.” He reassured her. “Don’t you worry. I’ll be around for a while.”
“Oh God, Dad!” She hugged her father tightly, holding back her tears, knowing that he had never had much patience with them. Carters didn’t cry.
“I was hoping to stick around long enough to see you become an astronaut.” He said coaxingly. “Sweetheart, I don’t care what it is you do in that mountain, nothing in the world can live up to the chance of actually going to space. Not for you. It’s something you’re wanted your whole life. And I admit it, I want to see you fulfill your life’s dreams before I die.”
“It’s my dream. Doesn’t that make it up to me?”
“Fathers have dreams, too.”
“Sorry, I can’t…” She hated not being able to tell him the truth about why she had to reject his offer, an offer she would have jumped at a few years ago.
“All right.” His tone became brusque as he turned away, hurt by her rejection. “Like I said, this thing’s going to go on for months, so you don’t have to check up on me tomorrow.”
“Dad, please don’t go like this…”
“Congratulations on the medal. I’m sure you deserve it.” He left, not waiting for her to respond.
“Dad!” He never looked back.
The tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks as she turned to face the window, looking out onto the neighbouring buildings.
The sunlight seemed to be magnified through the glass, the glare almost blinding her. It took a second for her to register that the light she was seeing wasn’t coming from the sun, but from the ceiling.
She was gone before she could make a sound.
August 14th, 2004
“The first three groups have gone through to the Alpha Site.” Jack reported to General Hammond. “The fourth and fifth groups are getting prepped.”
Hammond nodded acknowledgement. “Good. And your team?”
“Major Mitchell went through with the first group. Daniel and Teal’c are ready, they’re helping Dixon co-ordinate the evacuation.”
“I want all of you to go through as soon as possible. When you get to the Alpha Site, you’re to take command.” Hammond ordered.
Jack’s expression was sober. “What about you, sir?”
“The Alpha Site’s resources are very limited.” Hammond reminded him. “And there isn’t a lot of time.”
The comet had changed course so suddenly – which Dr McKay, backed up by Jack, had insisted meant that it wasn’t really a comet – and was approaching the planet so rapidly that they had not had time to appeal to the Asgard for assistance or to contact more than a handful of the people on the Genesis List.
Most of the people being evacuated to the Alpha Site were SGC personnel. Hammond did not plan to be one of them.
“I’ve made my decision, Jack.” He sad gently, knowing the other man well enough to see that he wanted to argue, that he would be willing to drag him down to the ‘gate room and through the stargate kicking and screaming if that’s what it took.
“With all due respect, sir…”
Whatever Jack might have said was lost when Rodney McKay, never exactly a respecter of rank, called for them to join him in the briefing room.
“The comet’s changed course again.” He announced as soon as he saw them. “Not that it’s really a comet… whatever it is, it seems to be heading towards Washington, by Mount Rainier.” His attention was focused on the screen of the computer tracking the comet’s movements. “The speed is dropping; it’s at Mach seven… Mach two… subsonic… it’s leveling off and continuing to lose speed.”
“Is the damn thing coming in for a landing or something?” Jack demanded. A couple of hours ago, he had been looking forward to observing the comet through his telescope then things had gone from bad to worse and now to bizarre.
“Pretty much.”
“What’s going on?” Jack scowled darkly when he saw Daniel enter the briefing room, Teal’c following close behind. “Shouldn’t you two be at the Alpha Site by now?” Daniel ignored him completely.
“Turn up the volume.” Hammond instructed Teal’c, who was standing nearest to the television brought up to keep an eye on news reports. The glowing blue object was growing larger, it’s approach captured by a slightly shaky camera while the newscaster kept up a running commentary.
“We’re close to the base of Mount Rainier. The ball of light is massive; one hundred, two hundred feet in diameter, it’s hard to tell. We’re going to try to get in closer. I can tell you that this is, without a doubt, one of the most incredible sights I’ve ever seen. We’re still looking for some sort of official from the government.”
Apart from the reporter’s words, the briefing room was silent as those within watched the ball of light shimmer and seemingly collapse inwardly before the light burst forth from it, the glare from the television screen bright enough to oblige some of them to shield their eyes.
Hammond pitied those at Mount Rainier. They must have been half blinded.
“We’re not sure what’s just happened. The ball of light is gone.”
The steam from the lake shrouded the beach and for a moment, that was all anyone could see. As it slowly cleared, they could begin to make out shapes.
“Thousands of people have just suddenly appeared!” The reporter’s tone mingled excitement and awe. “This is amazing. There are thousands of people as far as the eye can see.”
The cameras focused on first one person, then another, zooming in on bewildered faces, then panning out to show larger groups as those holding the cameras tried to decide what they should be concentrating on.
Those in the briefing room were silent for a few moments, their attention split between the footage on the television and the images on the computer screens.
A flash of blonde hair and a glimpse of a blue military uniform caught Jack’s eye and he felt a lump form in his throat when the camera zoomed in on a familiar face for the briefest of instants.
“O’Neill?” Teal’c was concerned when he saw his frieale.
“I think I just saw Carter.”
Two weeks later
“Where do you think she was all these years? How long are they planning on keeping all those people locked up?”
Nobody had an answer to Daniel’s questions.
After Sam had disappeared, a thorough investigation had been made but no trace of her had been found. Footage from security cameras had shown Sam entering one of the press conference rooms but although her father had left a few minutes later, Sam apparently had not.
Although the Washington officials who had viewed the tape had dismissed the dim gleam of light that had briefly shone from the partially open door as a momentary glitch, after numerous viewings of the tape, Jack had other suspicions.
When Thor brought his ship to Earth to negotiate their inclusion in the Protected Planets Treaty, Jack had pleaded with him to scan the planet for traces of naquadah. The search netted a Goa’uld hiding out near Seattle but it had also proven that Samantha Carter was definitely not on Earth.
At one point, he had made some not so diplomatic inquiries about the possibility of Asgard involvement in her disappearance, but Thor had assured him that none of his people had any knowledge on the subject.
They hadn’t dared to let themselves believe that she was really back until NTAC had contacted them to let them know that Captain Samantha Carter was in their quarantine unit and had requested that they be notified of her return.
A fortnight later, however, NTAC had not released Sam, or any of the returnees and Hammond’s previous requests that SGC personnel be granted permission to visit had all been denied.
“They’re probably just being cautious.” Mitchell suggested. “Who knows where those people have been, or what’s happened them?”
“‘Those people’ have done nothing wrong.” Daniel said reprovingly. “They shouldn’t be imprisoned.”
“Mr Ryland at NTAC has assured me that they have no intention of keeping Captain Carter – or any of the other returnees – in quarantine indefinitely.” Hammond told them. “However, they are concerned that they may be carrying a disease that could pose a threat to the general population. They are keeping them under medical supervision for the time being.”
“Have they spotted anything unusual about Carter’s blood work?” Jack asked, concerned, knowing that the naquadah and the protein marker in Sam’s blood, effects of her possession by Jolinar of Malkshur, could lead to some very difficult questions.
“They haven’t mentioned it, but that’s no guarantee that they didn’t find something.” Hammond responded. “My request that Captain Carter be transferred to this base for her quarantine was refused. The President doesn’t feel that he can interfere, not with the publicity surrounding the returnees. I was able to pull some strings, to get Ryland to allow Dr Fraiser to see a copy of Captain Carter’s medical reports. He’s also agreed to one visitor. I know that the three of you all want to see her,” he added gently, “but one was the best I could do. There’s a plane waiting to take you to Washington, Colonel.” He told Jack.
“Yes, sir.” Jack nodded.
“Your meeting will be recorded – that part was non-negotiable.” Hammond warned, though he knew better than to think that Jack would ever discuss the stargate unless he could be certain that there were no prying ears around. The incident with Armin Sellig had taught him that.
“I understand.”
“You’d better get going, son.” He knew how eager the other man would be to get to Washington. “And Jack,” he called as he turned to leave the briefing room. “When you see Captain Carter, tell her that we’ve all really missed her.”
Daniel nodded emphatically and Teal’c seconded his sentiments with a warm “Indeed.”
Jack smiled. “Will do, sir.”
If there had been a system used to sort the returnees into groups for quarantine, Sam couldn’t see it. Quarantine Block B was the temporary home to people of both genders, of various nationalities, ages and times of disappearance.
As near as she could tell, people had been gone for stretches of time ranging from a few months to nearly six decades. None of them knew any more than she did about where they had been, though speculation was running rampant.
Accustomed to both Spartan base quarters and to camping out offworld, the quarantine accommodations were not a major problem and she could see that an effort had been made to make their confinement as comfortable as possible but between the strong smell of antiseptic the crowds of people and the television that seemed to be constantly showing the talk show of a woman who seemed convinced that the returnees were devils in disguise, it was far from pleasant.
She found the isolation from the outside world especially difficult.
NTAC officials had taken her name and personal details when she, along with the others, had been transported to quarantine and they had promised to contact her father, brother and General Hammond but she had heard no more since.
Contact with the returnees had so far been limited to doctors, guards and a handful of representatives from Homeland Security.
“Don’t worry.” A little girl with long blonde hair told her solemnly. “Your friend will be here to see you soon.”
Sam smiled, wishing that she had the same faith.
“Samantha Carter to Interview Room Two.”
“This is for you.” A folded tissue was pressed into her hand.
The interview rooms were enclosed, giving an illusion of privacy but although she couldn’t see any cameras, Sam knew that the illusion was a false one. Illness was not the only thing they were watching the returnees for.
At first glance, Colonel O’Neill looked much as he had when she had last seen him – she had to remind herself that it had been nearly six years, not two weeks – but as she approached the plastic barrier separating them she could see that his face had a few more lines and that his hair was liberally besprinkled with grey.
“Hey, Carter.” He grinned wryly, looking as awkward as she felt. “It’s been a while.”
“Not for me, sir.” Her response was soft.
His eyes narrowed. “You really don’t remember?” The NTAC official who had escorted him to the quarantine block had told him as much but he hadn’t fully believed it until he heard it from Sam.
“The last thing I remember is being in Washington. How could I be gone for six years and not remember?”
“I don’t know. What about everybody else? Any of them have any idea where you guys have been?”
Sam gave him a slight smile. “Abducted by aliens is a popular theory at the moment.” Unlike most of the people on the planet, they knew that this idea was not as far fetched as some might think. “Nobody remembers anything – or if they do, they’re doing a great job of hiding it.”
“They treating you alright in here?” She nodded. “Good. Hammond wanted to get you moved to the base, but they wouldn’t hear of it. He, Daniel and T told me to let you know that we’ve all missed you – studying deep space radar telemetry hasn’t been the same without you. We’re definitely going to be glad to get you back.”
“Do you know whether NTAC were able to get in touch with my brother? Or my dad?”
Jack’s expression darkened. “They didn’t tell you?”
Deep down, she had known the truth but she had pushed it to the back of her mind, hoping and praying that her father had gone into remission, or that a miraculous cure for cancer had been discovered, as if she could make it so by wishing.
Her father was dead.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” Her CO – or former CO, she wasn’t sure how to think of him – said gently. “There was nothing anybody could have done for him.”
She knew that he was right but at the same time she couldn’t shake the feeling that if she had been there, she might have been able to do something, anything to save his life.
It was too late now.
It wasn’t until her tears started falling that she remembered the crumpled tissue that had been pressed into her hand.
Four weeks later
“They’re releasing her? Thank God!” Daniel said, relieved.
“The ACLU filed a lawsuit on behalf of the families of some of the returnees.” Hammond explained to the five people sitting in the briefing room. “The court upheld it. NTAC have no legal right to hold Captain Carter, or any of the others, against their will. Her release is not unconditional, however. Captain Carter will be required to check in with the nearest branch of NTAC on a weekly basis.”
“That could be a problem.” Jack observed. “You might have noticed that SG-1’s missions don’t always go as planned - what happens if Carter can’t get back to Earth in time?”
“Maybe she won’t want to rejoin a field team.” Mitchell suggested, frowning at his commanding officer’s words.
“Mr Ryland and I spoke.” Hammond told Jack. “I explained that should Captain Carter choose to return to this facility, there would be a possibility that she would be unable to appear for each of her scheduled visits. They understand that a degree of flexibility will be necessary.” He looked at Janet, who was sitting on his left. “Doctor, NTAC has agreed that you and your staff may assume responsibility for most of Captain Carter’s medical examinations, although they do expect you to send them copies of your reports and their own doctors will want to see her every two months.”
“Yes, sir.” Janet smiled, delighted to know that her friend would be back.
“So when can we go and get her?” Jack asked.
“This afternoon.” Hammond smiled. “I’ve already arranged transportation for your team, and for you, Doctor.”
Although Janet badly wanted to be at NTAC to greet Sam when she emerged from quarantine, she shook her head. “Thank you, sir, but I think that Sam might appreciate it if I did some shopping on her behalf.”
“You should pick up a cake too.” Jack suggested. “Coming back in a ball of light definitely merits cake. Pizza too, and beer.”
“Party?” Daniel suggested.
“A small one, we can use my place.” Jack decided. “Just us.”
In the six weeks since the group now dubbed ‘the 4400’ had returned and everyone at the SGC had learned that the missing Samantha Carter was one of them, gossip and speculation had been circulating freely and opinion seemed pretty divided with some, influenced by the media, believing that the group could pose a threat.
Everybody had been careful not to speak of it in front of SG-1 or General Hammond but they were all aware of it and had come to an unspoken agreement to wait at least a couple of days before Sam would return to the SGC, to give the rumours a chance to die down.
“Your plane to Seattle leaves in half an hour,” Hammond told them. “And there’ll be a car there to meet you and take you to NTAC. Bring her home, gentlemen.”
“Will do, sir.” Jack grinned. “Will we be seeing you later?”
Hammond smiled warmly. “I wouldn’t miss it.” He rose, signalling that they could leave. “Dismissed.”
“Looks like we’ve got a field trip.” Jack said once Hammond had retreated to his office. He followed Teal’c, who had already begun to make his way out of the briefing room. “Wait for us, big guy!”
Daniel turned to Mitchell, who remained in his seat. “Are you coming?”
The other man looked awkward. “I don’t think so.” He excused himself. “I’ve never even met Carter, I’d just be in the way. You guys go on ahead.”
“Daniel!” Jack’s impatient bellow could be heard from the hallway. “If you don’t get a move on, we’re leaving without you!”
“I’ve gotta go.” Daniel told his teammate hastily, hurrying after his friends, half afraid that Jack would make good on his threat. “See you when we get back.”
He was gone before Mitchell could respond.
Like quite a few other returnees, Sam had been glad to accept the offer of the NTAC representative to bring in a set of clothes for her. Her dress blues had been cleaned and packed for her to take with her, but she preferred to wear civilian clothes for her departure from quarantine, especially as they had been warned of the strong possibility that the media would be lying in wait outside the compound to film their release, which was already being loudly protested against on the Barbara Yates show, among others.
Her dress uniform would have attracted more attention than she ever would have wanted.
Given that more than four thousand people were leaving quarantine, organizing their departure was a difficult job for NTAC’s people.
Some people, particularly those who had been gone for a relatively short period, were lucky enough to have family and friends waiting to welcome them back. Others, Sam knew, would have a more difficult time finding a place for themselves in the world.
Of the handful of people who had chosen to remain in Quarantine Building B, only Maia Rutledge had elected to see those leaving off.
“Don’t worry.” She assured Sam solemnly, sensing her concern. “I’ll be alright. I’m not going to be here much longer.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you would come this way.” One of the guards said, unlocking the heavy metal doors separating the returnees from the rest of the world.
Few lingered before making their way through the doors to the reception area and freedom.
“You’re absolutely sure that this is the right building?” Daniel asked, for the third time in five minutes.
“Yes, Daniel.” Jack spoke with exaggerated patience. “I’ve been here before, remember?”
“Right.” The younger man said sheepishly. They reached the top of the queue.
“Name?” The clerk, understandably somewhat frazzled, asked in a clipped tone.
“Daniel Jackson.”
“We’re here to meet Captain Samantha Carter.” Jack explained, seeing the clerk begin to enter Daniel’s name on her keyboard.
“Thank you.” She gave Daniel an irritated look before typing the name on her keyboard and looking at her computer monitor. “Samantha Carter, returnee number 1,871.”
“You’ve given these people numbers?” Daniel was appalled.
The clerk ignored him, handing Jack a small blue sign labelled ‘1871’. “If you will follow the corridor to your right, you will reach the reception area.” She told him.
“Thank you.” Jack accepted the sign and walked down the indicated corridor, Teal’c and Daniel following, depositing the sign in the nearest trashcan.
The large reception area was crowded with people, most of them clutching signs like the one Jack had been given, anxiously awaiting the moment when their loved ones would appear.
Delighted cries echoed through the room as the first group came into view. A few feet away from the three men, a woman and her teenage son pulled a second teenager into their arms, their relief and joy visible to all.
“I don’t see her.” Daniel murmured, worried.
Teal’c, the tallest of the three, scanned the faces of the people making their way into the reception area, a broad smile spreading over his face when he saw his friend. “There.” He pointed.
“Sam!” Daniel darted forward, pulling her into a tight hug the second he reached her side. He studied her face closely once he had released her. “You haven’t changed.” His tone was awed. Apart from the fact that her hair was a bit longer after six weeks in quarantine, she looked exactly as she had when he had last seen her.
“It’s good to see you too.” She said softly.
“Captain Carter.” Teal’c bowed ceremonially before bending down slightly to hug her.
“Remember, big guy, she does need to breathe.” Jack teased.
Teal’c merely frowned at him, releasing Sam a minute later. “I am pleased to see that you are safe and well, Captain Carter.”
“Carter?” Jack touched her shoulder lightly. “C’mere.” He whispered, hugging her. He released her after a few moments, grinning. “I take it you don’t want to stick around?”
“No, sir.” She smiled. “I’m ready to go.”
“Good.” He started to lead her towards the exit. “Let’s get you home.”
“Home sweet home.” Jack commented as he pushed open the door to his house and led the way into the living room. “The lease for the people renting your house is up in about a month, but I figured that you wouldn’t want to stay on the base,” he added to Sam. “Not after being stuck in quarantine for six weeks.”
“I don’t want to impose…”
“You won’t be.” Jack cut her off firmly. “The guest room’s already made up. I’m afraid your stuff is still in storage, but the doc said that she’d pick up some stuff for you before she came over – speaking of the Napoleonic power monger.” He quipped, hearing the doorbell ring.
Janet may have been small in stature but she was definitely strong, as Sam found out when her friend dropped the shopping bags she was carrying and hugged her tightly.
“You’re going to have broken ribs at this rate, Carter.” Jack joked.
Janet ignored him. She smiled as she released Sam, picking up the shopping bags and passing them to her. “I thought that you’d need some clothes and things. Cassie wanted to be able to come tonight, but she couldn’t get away from college until the weekend.”
Sam felt a lump form in her throat at this fresh reminder of how many years she had missed out on. When she had disappeared, Cassie had been a few months away from her thirteenth birthday. Now she was finished high school and would be starting college.
Seeing her expression, Jack interrupted. “Where’s the cake?”
“In the car.”
“I will retrieve it.” Teal’c volunteered, accepting Janet’s car keys and leaving, returning a moment later bearing a large cake box.
“No pizza?” Jack looked disapproving.
“On its way.” Janet responded. “And I made sure to get them with everything.” She added to Teal’c before he could voice his question.
“Fair enough.” Jack glanced at Daniel and Teal’c. “Did Mitchell say if he was coming or not?”
“I think he said that he had some work to do.” Daniel covered. He smiled at Sam. “You’ll have to wait to meet him another day.”
“Who’s Mitchell?”
“He is a member of SG-1 at present.” Teal’c told her.
“The latest in a long line.” Jack elaborated. “You left a tough act to follow, Carter. How many have we gone through so far? Eleven or twelve?”
“Major Mitchell is the fourteenth, O’Neill.”
“Right, and so far Tobias holds the record – she was on the team for nearly seven months.”
“Claire Tobias?” Sam asked. Jack nodded confirmation. “We worked together at the Pentagon for a while.”
“She was okay… until she turned out to be working for Maybourne, stealing technology.” Jack smiled at her look of astonishment. “I’m afraid things haven’t exactly been quiet and peaceful since you’ve been away.”
The doorbell rang a second time while Daniel was relating the story of Jack’s undercover mission to track down a group of thieves nearly five years earlier and his unmasking of Claire Tobias for Sam’s benefit.
“That’ll be the pizza.” Jack moved to answer the door, grinning when he saw who was waiting there. “Taken on a second job, sir?” he asked innocently, gesturing towards the pizza boxes the other man held.
“The tips are better.” Hammond quipped dryly. “Where is she?”
“In the living room, through there.” Jack took the pizza boxes and carried them into the kitchen. “T, Daniel, can you give me a hand with the plates?” He called.
“Hi, sir.” Sam rose from her chair when the general entered, smiling shyly.
“Sam.” He hugged her tightly for a minute before releasing her, studying her face intently. “Are you alright? There were no problems in quarantine? You were treated well?” He asked protectively.
“Yes, sir.” She assured him.
“If you don’t count six weeks worth of quarantine food – about the same standard as hospital food, right Carter?” Jack remarked, emerging from the kitchen carrying two plates of food, which he passed to Sam and Hammond. He gave a mock shudder. “Inhumane, I call it.”
“It wasn’t that bad, sir.” Sam protested lightly, accepting the pizza.
“Have you decided when you want to come back to the SGC?” Hammond asked as Teal’c and Daniel carried in the remainder of the plates and the group sat down on the armchairs and couch to eat. “You’re more than welcome to come back – it hasn’t been the same without you – and your job will be waiting for you when you do,” he assured her warmly. “But if you need time to adjust to being back, to visit your family and sort out your affairs, take as long as you like.”
“Thank you.”
“SG-1 is on downtime until further notice.” He added to Jack, Daniel and Teal’c. “So you gentlemen will have plenty of time to fill Captain Carter in on what’s been going on. They’ve managed to get into quite a lot of trouble without you.” He told Sam.
Janet laughed. “I don’t think that will come as much of a surprise.”
Though both Jack and Daniel scowled at her, neither of them tried to argue.
Night
Sam had been lying awake for more than two hours without being able to fall asleep. After six weeks sleeping in a dormitory at the quarantine facility, the stillness of bedroom was almost disconcerting.
When her sheep count reached one thousand, six hundred and nineteen and she was still as wide awake as when she had begun, she gave up on the hope that it would lull her to sleep and pushed the quilt aside and got out of bed, donning the dressing gown Janet had brought for her and slipping out of the room, making her way to the kitchen as silently as possible.
“Carter?” Sensing more than hearing her approach, Jack looked up from his seat on the couch, muting the volume on the television before standing and joining her in the kitchen. “Everything okay? Did the TV wake you?”
“No, sir.” She assured him. “I was awake, I just wanted to get a drink…” She trailed off, seeing the reproving look he was giving her. “Sir?”
“Tell me that we don’t need to go through the house rules again, Sam.” He chided in a mock-reproachful tone. “Come on, now,” he encouraged, grinning. “What was the Golden Rule?”
“No technobabble before breakfast.” Her response was prompt.
“Okay, the other Golden Rule.”
She smiled. “No using the ‘S’ word in the house.”
“Very good.” He said approvingly, moving past her to open the fridge and peer inside. “Let’s see, we’ve got beer – probably not the best idea at this hour – apple juice, milk, more beer, soda… oh, and another beer.” He glanced up at her. “Hot chocolate sound okay to you?”
“Yes, s… Jack.” She amended.
He half filled a small saucepan with milk and set it on the stove to heat before speaking again. “So what’s keeping you awake?” She shrugged. “It has to feel weird coming back and finding out that you’ve been gone for years.” He suggested sympathetically. “I’d say that there are going to be thousands of people who feel like that tonight.”
“Yes.” She agreed quietly.
“Any plans to visit your brother? He lives in San Diego, right?”
“I don’t know…” She hesitated. “We weren’t really keeping in touch before, not since I joined the Air Force.”
“I’m sure that he’ll want to see you.” Jack said encouragingly. “Hammond called him when we found out that you were back – we weren’t sure whether NTAC had let him know. He wanted to visit you in quarantine but he wasn’t allowed. You should go – plus, since Hammond put SG-1 on downtime, you’ll have three chauffeurs at your disposal.” He added, remembering that her driving licence would probably be expired by now.
“Three? I didn’t know that Teal’c could drive.”
“Daniel taught him.”
“When?”
“1969.” He responded with a perfectly straight face. “We tried our hand at time travel a few months after you disappeared.” He elaborated. “I don’t recommend it.”
“Sounds like I missed a lot.” Despite her efforts to keep her tone cheerful and casual, an edge of resentment tinged her words. “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t be complaining…”
“Yes, you should.” Jack cut her off firmly. “You have every right to be angry, Sam. You were kidnapped, you lost out on six years of your life and you don’t even know why. If it had been me, you wouldn’t have needed to see me on TV to know I was back, you’d have been able to hear me yelling from here.” He moved the hot milk off the stove and stirred in heaped spoonfuls of chocolate powder before pouring the steaming mixture into two mugs and passing one to Sam.
“That’s one of the worst parts, not knowing.” Sam said quietly, taking a sip of her drink. “There has to have been a reason, but I have no idea what it is.”
“Maybe you’ve been sent back to save the world.” Jack suggested, only half-joking.
“Or to destroy it.” She countered bleakly. “That seems to be the most popular idea.”
“That’s not it.” Jack responded immediately. “You and I both know that if destroying Earth is the goal, there are quicker and easier ways to do that than spending nearly sixty years kidnapping thousands of people to do the dirty work.
“Still, we can’t know…”
“I can.” He cut her off.
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because if I was looking for people who were going to destroy the world, you’d be the last person in the galaxy I’d pick.”
Two weeks later
Sam was realistic enough to know that on her first day back at the SGC after a six year absence, she would be a subject of curiousity, especially given the circumstances of her disappearance and return, but she had not expected the level of interest to be so high.
The efficiency of the SGC gossip mill meant that everybody on the base was aware of the fact that she was one of the 4400 and she had no doubt that more than a few of them had seen the coverage regarding their return and the public speculation about the reasons behind it all but she had hoped that, given their line of work, they would have been able to adjust to the situation, at least partially, in the two months since she had found herself on Highland Beach.
However, this was not the case.
“It feels like I’m on display.” She muttered quietly as she, Jack and Daniel walked through the corridors of the base, which seemed to be lined with curious faces.
“You’d think that coming back in a giant ball of light was something to write home about.” Jack quipped. “Don’t let it get to you.” He advised kindly. “The novelty will die down pretty quickly – you should have seen the looks Daniel got when he came back from the dead a couple of years back.”
“You died?” Sam looked across at Daniel, unsure whether or not Jack was pulling her leg.
“Not exactly.” Daniel corrected. “I Ascended to a higher plane of existence.”
“What happened?”
“He got kicked out.” Jack told her.
“Yeah,” Daniel looked slightly embarrassed. “I wasn’t supposed to interfere with anything on this plane.”
“We lower beings are supposed to fight our own battles.” Jack said, a slight edge to his tone.
“Apophis was going to attack Abydos, I tried to stop him… the other Ascended weren’t happy.” Daniel said succinctly, stopping outside his office. “I'll see you guys later.”
“General Hammond wanted you to stop by his office before you went down to the lab. McKay tells me that there are a lot of projects he needs to get you up to speed on.” Jack told her. He grinned. “You're gonna love him.” He lead the way to Hammond’s office and knocked on the door, waiting for the general to tell them to enter before pushing it open.
“Captain Carter.” General Hammond smiled warmly, indicating the chair in front of his desk. “Please, sit down.”
“If you'll excuse me, sir.” Jack told Hammond once Sam was seated, guessing that the general probably didn't want an audience. He smiled at Sam. “Come find me when you're done - you remember where my office is, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. If I can find Mitchell, I'll introduce you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“No problem.” He waited for Hammond to nod permission before leaving the office, closing the door behind him.
“It’s good to have you back at the SGC, Captain.” Hammond said warmly. “Nobody bothered you on your way in?” over the past fortnight he had made a concentrated effort to ensure that every single person working on the base was aware that Sam’s status as one of the 4400 was to be kept confidential and that he would take a dim view of any gossip or harassment.
“No, sir.”
“Are you sure?”
“People were curious,” Sam acknowledged. “But nobody bothered me.”
“Good. If there are any problems, I want you to let me know.”
“Sir…” She hesitated before broaching the subject that had been plaguing her since her return. “My father, did he… was he…”
“He knew that you were missing.” Hammond told her honestly. “He was worried about you, we all were – nobody could find any trace of you, it was as if you’d disappeared into thin air. He never believed you were dead, though. He was as stubborn as Colonel O’Neill about it.”
“Was he alone?” She already knew that her brother had refused to visit and despite the circumstances that had prevented her, she felt guilty that she hadn’t been there for her father.
“I was there.” Hammond reassured her. “Jake was so proud of you, Sam, even before I got permission to tell him what you had really been doing.” He smiled slightly. “It didn’t exactly come as a surprise to him that you hadn’t been awarded the Air Medal for deep space radar telemetry – speaking of…” He bent down, unlocking one of the many drawers in his desk and withdrawing a small box. “I’ve had this locked away for a long time, too long.” Carefully lifting a medal from the box, Hammond rose, moving to her side and waiting for her to rise before pinning the decoration, which made an unusual contrast with her blue BDUs, saluting and acknowledging her salute in return. His smile was broad. “You have no idea how glad I am to be able to give this to you now.”
The lab she had used before her disappearance had long since been taken over by another scientist. General Hammond had offered to rearrange the lab assignments to allow her to keep her old one but Sam had declined, not wanting to cause more disruption than necessary.
The new room she had been assigned was slightly larger than her old lab and, having been previously unused, it was perfectly clean and ordered, if a little bare. Somebody – she suspected Daniel – had set flower arrangements on one of the shelves and on one side of her desk and they, together with a few ‘Welcome Back’ cards, brightened the otherwise cheerless lab.
Jack, who had escorted her, watched as she explored her new lab, examining the different equipment, some of which was more advanced than she remembered. “Think you’ll be okay in here?”
She smiled, nodding her assent. “Yes, sir.”
“It’s the furthest away from McKay’s lab.” He volunteered cheerfully.
“Sir?”
“You’ll appreciate it once you’ve met McKay.” He warned, doing his best to sound suitably foreboding, before grinning. “Want me to introduce you?”
Sam nodded, not without a measure of reluctance, allowing Jack to lead her through the corridors to a small network of labs and offices.
She heard McKay before she saw him.
“Tell me, Jay, how exactly did you get your hands on a doctorate? Did you have to collect tokens and send them away, or did you win it in a raffle? Or do you actually want to blow up the base?”
“We’re not interrupting anything, are we, McKay?” Jack enquired smoothly as he and Sam entered the lab where several of the SGC’s scientists had gathered. McKay scowled in response but the scientist who had been on the receiving end of his harshly worded criticism looked relieved at the reprieve their presence had granted. Ignoring McKay’s glare, Jack began introductions. “Okay, Carter, you already know Dr Lee.”
The man nodded as his name was spoken, offering a tentative smile. “Welcome back, Captain.”
“And you’ve heard McKay.” Jack continued. “This is Professor Felger.”
Felger beamed at her, taking her hand and shaking it enthusiastically. “This is such an honour, Captain. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you ever since I heard you were back on Earth. I’ve read all your work, you know – I based my doctoral thesis on your wormhole stability theories, they’re amazing.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” Sam said politely as soon as she could get a word in edgeways.
“And can I just tell you how wonderful your work on the dialling computers is?” Felger gushed.
“Actually, the interface you designed is full of flaws.” McKay cut in, frowning accusingly at her.
“He’s just mad that none of his improvements for it actually worked out.” Jack told her in a stage whisper.
McKay scowled but said nothing, knowing better than to engage in a verbal duel with O’Neill. He kept his attention directed at Sam. “I know that you’re probably feeling very out of the loop,” he said in a tone that, while it may have been intended as reassuring, came out patronising. “But don’t worry too much about it. You’ll catch up… eventually.” He gestured towards a short stack of folders. “These are the notes on a few of our current experiments to get you started. I’ll take you through them.” He offered generously. “And if you have any questions, don’t be afraid to ask.”
Jack snorted. “She’ll be fine.”
After more than two hours spent listening to McKay as he explained some of the science department’s current projects, with frequent pauses to check whether she was having any difficulties following him and more than a few unneeded and unwanted reassurances that she would pick it up in no time, Sam had almost regretted her eagerness to return to work.
However, his good humour had evaporated like a snowball under the Abydos suns when she spotted an error in one set of his calculations and pointed it out. Felger’s soft snicker, hastily disguised as a cough, hadn’t helped matters much.
Jack, who had occupied himself with the games several of the lab techs had smuggled onto their computers while McKay conducted his science lesson came to the rescue, declaring that it was time for lunch and calling Daniel with instructions to round up Teal’c and Daniel and bring them to the commissary, ushering Sam out of the room before McKay had a chance to say another word.
“Is Dr McKay always like that, sir?” Sam asked quietly as soon as they were out of earshot.
“No.” Any sense of relief she might have felt at Jack’s response quickly vanished. “He’s on his best behaviour today.”
After a brief detour to drop the files off in Sam’s lab, they made their way down to the commissary. Daniel and Teal’c were already occupying the table recognized as SG-1’s when they arrived. Knowing how curious some of the base personnel were about Sam’s return, Jack had deliberately timed their meal so that they would be eating early, at a time when the commissary was fairly quiet.
“Hi Sam.” Daniel greeted her cheerfully, motioning for her to have a seat. “Hope you still like shepherd’s pie.” He told her, pushing a laden tray towards her. “It’s the only thing on the menu today besides meatloaf.”
“Thanks.” She accepted the tray, her eyes lighting up when she saw the dish of blue jello. “They only had red and green in quarantine.” She explained, briefly considering starting with dessert but deciding against it, taking a heaped spoonful of shepherd’s pie instead.
Jack took the empty seat next to her, grinning his thanks when Teal’c set a second tray in front of him. “Where’s Mitchell?”
“He said he’d be down as soon as… there he is.” Daniel spotted the other man at the door and raised his hand slightly to get his attention. Reaching out, he tugged a chair over to their table and set it at one end, between himself and Sam.
Mitchell extended a hand to Sam when he reached the table, shaking her hand briefly. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain.” He said politely. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Should I be worried?” Sam quipped half-heartedly.
“It was all good, I promise.” Jack assured her. “We didn’t even mention that time on P3X-595 when you…”
“Sir!” She cut him off before he could say any more.
“It’s okay, Carter.” Jack teased. “You know that we’ll take your secret to our graves – right?” He glanced across the table at Daniel and Teal’c, who nodded agreement.
“As long as I don’t tell anyone what happened on P6J-614?” She asked innocently.
“That’s the deal.” He confirmed, shuddering slightly at the memory.
Seeing that Mitchell was still standing, looking rather bewildered by the conversation, Daniel nudged the empty chair a few inches closer to the other man with his foot. “Sit down – do you want me to get some lunch for you?” He offered. “I wasn’t sure what you’d want.”
“That’s okay.” Mitchell said hastily, backing away from the table. “I’ll grab it myself.” As he crossed the room to join the short queue for food, he heard a ripple of laughter as Colonel O’Neill related another anecdote for Carter’s benefit, likely something that had happened long before he had ever even heard of the Stargate Program, let alone aspired to join the flagship team.
“It’s good to see them together again.” As Mitchell had not heard Colonel Makepeace approach, the other man’s words jolted him from his own thoughts. “Sorry, Major, didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s okay, sir.” He grimaced slightly when he got a close look at the options available for lunch, deciding after a few moments of deliberation that meatloaf was the lesser of two evils and opting for that.
“I’ll have the same, please.” Makepeace told the airman on kitchen duty. “You know, I’ve never seen a team click the way those four did.” He observed, helping himself to a generous scoop of mashed potatoes. “I don’t think that anybody expected them to last… except maybe the general. There were bets going on who O’Neill would strangle first, Jackson or Carter.”
Mitchell’s mouth felt dry and he barely managed to mutter a non-committal “Really?”
“They proved us all wrong though. They did great work together, and they were practically family. When Carter disappeared…” Makepeace’s expression became sober. “For a while, I wasn’t sure that they’d ever get over losing her. It was nearly six months before they agreed to let somebody else on the team. None of them lasted long, Carter was a tough act to follow. Nobody else was ever good enough.” He grinned as he watched the quartet eat and chat. “It’s great to see her back where she belongs.”
“How are you getting on with McKay?” Jack asked between mouthfuls of Froot Loops. “Have you been tempted to strangle him yet?”
“Not yet.” Sam assured him, though she was aware that he already knew that. He had been in the lab with her most of the time over the past few days. “He’s not that bad, really.”
“There aren’t too many people who share that opinion.” He watched as she finished her yogurt and fruit. “We’ve got to introduce more junk food to your diet.” He remarked, lifting his cereal box and shaking it temptingly. “Sure you don’t want to reconsider?”
“No, thank you.”
“What about one of my world famous omelets?”
Aware that the recipe for the omelets consisted entirely of eggs and beer, Sam gracefully declined the offer.
“Suit yourself.” Jack grinned. “I just thought that you’d need the extra energy for our trip this afternoon. Little place called M74-162.” He elaborated, watching her face light up as his words registered. “Quiet place, by the looks of things, but great weather, lots of rocks to keep Daniel happy and a weird looking doohickey just waiting for your attention.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He confirmed.
Although General Hammond had been able to obtain clearance to bring Sam back to the SGC, one or two of his superiors had had a few misgivings about allowing her to take part in offworld missions and it had taken time, persuasion and a full physical from Janet to confirm that Sam had returned exactly as she had left to calm their fears – though Jack fancied that his, Teal’c’s and Daniel’s refusals to take part in any missions until they could do so with their teammate might have helped to sway them.
“So are you sure you don’t want some Froot Loops?” Jack tried to tempt her.
“Positive.” She assured him. “What time is our mission?”
“Briefing at 1400, leaving an hour later. So,” He smirked. “I’m afraid that you’re going to put up with McKay until lunchtime.”
“Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!” McKay all but snatched the notepad from her hand, scowling. He glanced over the calculations she had jotted down, snorting in derision. “Look, I know that you’ve been out of the loop for a while, Goldilocks, but I hate to break it to you – the laws of physics didn’t magically rewrite themselves while you were away.”
It was with some difficulty that Sam managed to keep her temper, especially after the ‘Goldilocks’ part. The idea of strangling him was starting to appeal to her. “Some of the calculations you made don’t take into account…”
“I’ve been working on this project for three years. You’ve been back all of two months, back to work for barely a week.” He reminded her scathingly, leaning forward to enter a few commands on the computer closest to them, bringing the schematics and notes for the project up onto the screen. “I think that you need to take a little refresher course: Naquadah Reactors for Beginners.”
Half-regretting that, glad as he was to have her back at the SGC, General Hammond would still reprimand her for smacking a civilian, Sam kept her irritation at this rude dismissal in check as best she could.
McKay, though relatively gracious at first, had not been pleased by the presence of a potential rival.
She was glad that she had been cleared for offworld missions and would therefore only be working with him part-time.
“She’s got a point about the decay rate of naquadah.” Dr Lee pointed out timidly. “We have been having a lot of problems compensating for the inherent instability. If Captain Carter’s calculations are correct…”
“They’re not!”
A few feet away from her the computer screen flickered briefly, sparks leaping from the keyboard when a paper cup of cold coffee, carelessly abandoned on top of the monitor, tumbled down, splashing it thoroughly.
McKay and Lee abandoned their argument to help her mop up the spillage before it could spread to the files and notes on the bench.
“Remind me to strangle Jay the next time I see him.” McKay muttered grimly to nobody in particular.
“How do you know that it was him?” Sam asked.
“Because everybody else here knows better than to leave liquids lying around like that.”
“Um… Rodney?” Dr Lee, who had resumed his study of Sam’s calculations, and her suggestions for improvements to their long running project. “You really should take a look at this.”
“At what?” The notepad was thrust into his hand, the key equation indicated with a point of a finger.
“This is what we’ve been missing.” Dr Lee said, delighted with the breakthrough.
McKay scanned the page several times, searching for an error of some kind and finding none. “Well, this is… I guess you can never underestimate the value of a fresh pair of eyes, can you?” He said at last. “Not that I wouldn’t have spotted it myself.” He amended hastily. “Because I would have, probably a long time ago if things hadn’t been so crazy around here lately.”
“Of course.”
“Still,” He gave her the slightest of smiles. “Good work.”
Afternoon
Shouldering his pack, Mitchell hurried towards the ‘gate room, thrilled to be going offworld again. The briefing, though it had lasted just under twenty minutes in reality, had seemed to stretch for hours before General Hammond had dismissed them to gear up.
In his haste, he collided with Colonel Makepeace, almost sending him flying.
“Easy, Major,” Makepeace grinned. “No need to run me over.”
“Sorry, sir.”
“It’s alright.” Makepeace waved the apology aside. “Never thought I’d see anybody so excited about going on a routine survey.” He observed good-naturedly.
“It’s been a while since SG-1 went on any missions.” Mitchell explained sheepishly. “Colonel O’Neill asked to be taken off the mission rotation for a while…”
“Until Carter was able to go with them again?” Makepeace suggested shrewdly. “I guess Jackson and the Jaffa wanted to stay put too. I guess I can’t fault them for that. Pretty hard on you, though.” He clapped the other man on the shoulder. “You should have asked Hammond to let you tag along with another team on their missions. You’d have been more than welcome on SG-3.”
“Never thought of that.” The lie came awkwardly. He had been afraid that if he had become temporarily attached to another team, he would find himself summoned into the general’s office and told that his transfer was to be made permanent.
“You’ll know for the next time.” Makepeace glanced at his watch. “You’d better run if you don’t want to be late. Have fun.”
“Yes, sir.”
Colonel O’Neill was speaking when he reached the ‘gate room.
“M74-162, here we come.” He quipped as Mitchell joined the rest of the team. “Everyone got everything they need?” He asked. “Because we’re not coming back if anyone forgot anything – Daniel?”
“When did I ever ask to go back to pick something up?” Daniel demanded indignantly.
Jack glanced at Sam, who stood next to him. “I wanted to bring a cake to celebrate your first trip through the stargate in six years.” He assured her solemnly. “But I was overruled.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Daniel’s got the cookies and chocolate in his pack.” She laughed. “No giggling.” He warned, trying to sound serious.
“Yes, sir.”
In front of them, the chevrons on the stargate glowed as they locked into place.
A few moments later, Walter’s voice filtered through the loudspeakers. “Chevron seven locked.”
“Never gets old, does it.” Jack remarked as the stargate came to life.
The satisfaction in General Hammond’s voice was plain to all when he spoke. “SG-1, you have a go.”
“Any complaints? Nausea? Headaches?” Janet asked, shining a penlight into her friend’s eyes before checking her throat to make sure that there was no possible sign of infection or anything else amiss.
“No.” Sam answered as soon as the tongue depressor was removed from her mouth.
“Then it looks as though you’re in perfect health.” Janet reported cheerfully. “Just like last week.”
“And the week before that, and every other week.” Sam finished glumly. “How long are they going to insist on these check-ups? I’m fine.”
“At least you can have your check-ups here.” Janet reminded her. “Would you rather go to NTAC for them?”
“Good point.” Sam made a face. Having to report to NTAC on a weekly basis was bad enough, she had no desire to have any more medicals there than she could possibly avoid. She sat still while Janet took a sample of blood and labelled the vial, checking the box on the report form she was required to fill out and send on.
“We’re nearly done, Sam. I’m afraid that another requirement has been added, though.” She said apologetically, taking a prepared syringe from a plastic case. “It’s just a vitamin booster.” She assured her hastily. “It was checked in the labs here.” Wiping Sam’s arm with an alcohol swab, she injected her. “All done.”
“Thanks.”
“I want you to lie down, at least for a few minutes.” Janet cautioned. “Just to make sure that you don’t have a reaction to the shot, with your blood chemistry.”
“Do you think they’ve noticed at NTAC?” Sam asked, aware that an unidentified metal and an alien protein were bound to attract attention.
“Maybe we’ve been lucky and they haven’t. Without knowing what they were looking for, it is possible that they might have missed it. If they did spot it, hopefully they’ll assume that it’s something that happened when you were away.” Janet said. “They haven’t said anything to me, though – or asked you in for extra tests.”
“Thankfully.”
“How have you been getting on with missions?” Janet asked as she tidied away her equipment, disposing of the needle and syringe. “Settling back onto the team okay?”
Sam nodded. “Fine. It’s just…” She hesitated before continuing, trying to choose her words.
“Colonel O’Neill is still hovering?” Janet asked, her tone mingling amusement and sympathy.
“And Teal’c.” Sam complained. “Daniel and Mitchell are the only ones who leave me alone to work most of the time.”
“I imagine that Daniel, at least, hears from Colonel O’Neill whenever he does leave you by yourself – and I’d say that he’s keeping a closer eye on you than you might think, even if he isn’t being obvious about it. You can’t really hold it against them, Sam.” She added gently. “Losing you was hard for a lot of people, but much worse for your team. They had no idea where you were or what had happened to you for six years.” She smiled slightly. “You can probably expect them to keep being overprotective for at least that long.”
General Hammond’s expression was grim when three fifths of SG-1 joined him in the briefing room, taking their seats when he motioned for them to do so.
“General?” Daniel had been surprised by the summons – and more than a little irritated over the interruption to his work. “I thought that we weren’t going to have our mission briefing until tomorrow morning. Where are Sam and Mitchell?”
“Carter’s having her check-up with the Doc.” Jack reported immediately.
“I know.” Hammond looked across at Daniel. “This isn’t a mission briefing, Dr Jackson, you’ll be having that tomorrow, along with SG-3. Right now, I’m concerned about something else. You’ve all been keeping pretty close to Captain Carter, I know.”
“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to keep Sam tied to your apron strings forever.” Daniel told Jack, a note of triumph in his voice.
“I have not…” Remembering his protectiveness over the past weeks, Jack swiftly changed tack. “What’s wrong with me wanting to look out for a member of my team?”
“Absolutely nothing, son.” Hammond assured him. “And under the circumstances, I’m very glad of it. Have you – any of you – noticed any hostility or suspicion directed at Captain Carter by anyone on this base?”
“McKay’s a bit ticked off over the fact that Carter’s smarter than him.” Jack said after a few moments’ consideration. “But he flirts with her a lot too.”
“Most people are happy she’s back.” Daniel said. “A few people are a little wary, but I haven’t heard anyone say anything against her.”
“And Carter hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“If any of those working at the SGC were hostile towards Captain Carter, it is unlikely that they would make their feelings known in her presence or ours.” Teal’c observed shrewdly.
“Good point.” Hammond agreed. “What about Major Mitchell? How have he and Captain Carter been getting along?”
“Fine. They’re not exactly best buddies or anything yet, but they work together without any problems. What’s this all about, sir?” Jack asked.
“Since Captain Carter’s return, the SGC has been monitoring all media coverage relating to the 4400.” Hammond explained. “This program was broadcast this morning on MNCN.” Lifting a remote, he switched on the television and hit the play button.
The screen flickered to life and a face all four men had come to detest over the past months appeared, speaking to a man none of them recognized, whose efforts to defend the 4400 were not meeting with much success.
“I think that the public has a right to know if they have one of these people living in their neighbourhood.” Barbara Yates was insisting. “We have no way of knowing what happened to them while they were gone. They could be impostors, or walking time bombs.”
“Or innocent people who have done nothing wrong and who shouldn’t be persecuted over something they had no control over.” The man countered immediately. “They have a right to get their lives back without interference or fear of prejudice.”
“I’m starting to like this guy.” Jack quipped quietly.
“Me too.” Daniel agreed.
“But there haven’t even been any limits placed on the kind of employment they can take.” Yates continued, warming to her theme. “We have 4400 working in our schools, in our hospitals, even in our military.” She turned away from her guest, directing her full attention at the camera and her audience, savouring the bombshell she was about to drop for an instant before continuing. “We have it from a reliable source, who has asked to remain anonymous for the time being, that one of the 4400, an officer in the Air Force, has been allowed to return to active duty and is currently working at a base in the Colorado area. Don’t you think that the public should be concerned about the potential damage she could cause if…”
Disgusted, Hammond muted the volume on the television. “I think that we can all be pretty sure who she’s talking about.” He said quietly, his tone grim.
“Have you told Carter yet?” Jack asked.
“I’ll be speaking with her as soon as she’s finished with Dr Fraiser.”
“I can’t believe that anybody here would give Sam away like that.” Daniel muttered, dismayed.
“It’s not a pleasant thought, son.” Hammond agreed. He looked around the table at the other three men. “But somebody has to have tipped that woman off and we need to find out who.”
“Forty-eight hours offworld with SG-3.” Jack grumbled, playing with his oatmeal briefly before pushing it aside in favour of a doughnut. “Do you guys think that I offended Hammond in some way I don’t know about and this is my punishment?”
“If it is, why would he punish all of us for something you did?” Daniel asked between mouthfuls of rapidly cooling toast.
“Cruelty?”
“Until recent years, Heru’ur maintained a strong presence on P7I-467, until he allied with Apophis and committed most of his resources to war.” Teal’c reminded them. “Sending two teams is a sensible precaution.”
“But Marines?”
“They’re not that bad, sir.” Mitchell said.
“No, they’re worse - am I right, Carter?” Without waiting for an answer, Jack checked his watch, rising hurriedly when he saw the time. “Let’s go.”
“But the briefing doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.” Daniel protested, casting a longing look at the remains of his coffee as Jack started nudging him towards the door. “Why can’t we finish our breakfast?”
“Because we have to get to the briefing room first.” Jack said, as though this should have been obvious. He led the way to the briefing room at a brisk pace, grinning when they arrived and found it empty.
“I guess we won.” Daniel said dryly.
“Indeed.” Teal’c agreed, an amused expression on his face.
Ignoring them, Jack sat down in the seat to the right of the one General Hammond usually occupied, pushing the chair next to him out for Sam before motioning for the
others to sit. He took one of the folders neatly stacked in the centre of the table, flicking through it briefly.
“So what’s so special about P7I-467?”
“The main building there looks like some of the Ancient structures we’ve come across before.” Daniel responded enthusiastically. “It’s intact - which is amazing given how long it has to have been around - Heru’ur must have been using it before the war against the System Lords - and if it's anything like the other Ancient structures we've encountered, there could be some writings, even artefacts there…”
“And is there anything there for those of us who don’t enjoy digging around in the dirt?” Jack asked.
“Heru’ur’s stronghold is still standing.” Sam volunteered. “We’re hoping that he might have left something interesting behind.”
“A big honkin’ space gun?” Jack asked hopefully.
“You never know.”
He grinned. “That’s the spirit.”
SG-3, led by Colonel Makepeace, trooped into the room, taking their seats opposite SG-1 with a few scattered nods by way of greeting.
Jack noticed the wary, suspicious looks on the faces of two of Makepeace’s subordinates when they saw Sam, and knew that the rest of SG-1 were as aware of them as he was, but General Hammond’s arrival stayed his tongue.
Gesturing for the military members of both teams to keep their seats, the general took his place at the head of the table and the briefing got underway.
P7I-467
Jack had been pleasantly surprised when Makepeace had made no objection to the fact that he was to be in overall command of the mission, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when the other man volunteered to bring up the rear.
“Fine.” Jack agreed. “Mitchell and Collins, take point.”
Although the pathways stretching between the stargate and Heru’ur’s stronghold had been well travelled at one point, it was clear from the thick layers of grass and various weeds - one of which Carter had stopped dead in her tracks to collect a sample of - that had grown over the paths that it had been a while since an army of Jaffa warriors had last marched that way.
Heru’ur’s stronghold smelled slightly musty, with some of the walls and furniture showing signs of neglect.
The hand held scanner Sam carried emitted a steady series of bleeps as they moved through the building, remaining on guard in case it was not as abandoned as it looked.
One of the antechambers, empty save for a handful of artefacts displayed on tables set against the two side walls, captured Daniel’s attention.
His allergies miraculously untroubled by the thin layer of dust coating the pillars, one in each of the four corners, all inscribed with Ancient symbols, he whipped out his digital camera and paper to make rubbings the instant Jack agreed to his request to remain and examine them. Neither Collins nor Hennessy were overly pleased with the order to remain to assist the archaeologist but, given their demeanour in the briefing room, Jack wasn’t prepared to trust them to watch Sam’s back.
“Sir?” Sam spoke up from Jack’s side, gesturing towards the scanner she carried, which was now bleeping loudly and insistently. “I’m picking up a strong energy reading, coming from a room about thirty feet ahead of us.” She told him, pointing in the direction of one of the corridors.
He nodded. “Better check it out.”
With Makepeace, Mitchell and Sergeant Irwin stationed in the corridors between the antechamber and the room housing the object of Sam’s interest, she, Jack and Teal’c moved forward in search of the source of the energy readings.
“What the heck is that thing?” Jack demanded as soon as he saw it.
“I have not seen its like before.” Teal’c said.
“Neither have I, sir.” Sam said, kneeling down in front of the device and unpacking the instruments from her case. She used a wire to connect her hand held scanner to her laptop, frowning thoughtfully as more detailed readings were loaded.
“How can you read that?” Jack asked, peering over her shoulder to read what looked like a stream of senseless data.
Sam didn’t seem to hear his question. “This is definitely not Goa’uld, sir, at least not originally. There are some Goa’uld components, but the rest of it is of a much more advanced technology.”
“Ancient?”
“Possibly, there are definite similarities with some of the schematics for Ancient technology on file at the SGC.” She examined the structure of the device carefully. “It looks like Heru’ur tried adding a few improvements, though.” She added, indicating the lower section. “It looks like an interface… or an attempt at building one.” She amended, poking gingerly at a burnt out crystal.
“It doesn’t seem to have worked out too well, does it?” Jack commented. “Any idea what that thing is?”
“My best guess would be that it’s a weapon - or at least that it was before Heru’ur started experimenting with it.”
“Do you believe that the device is damaged beyond repair?” Teal’c asked.
“I’m not sure.” Sam responded honestly. “There was definitely a lot of work done on it - but I doubt that it would still be here if there was no chance it would be usable, though.”
“Unless Heru’ur hoped to be able to rectify the damage at some point in the future.”
“If the snake can do it, Carter can.” Jack stated firmly. “Any chance we’d be able to pack it up and bring it back to the SGC?” He asked.
“It’s too heavy to carry, even with nine of us here, but maybe if we brought back a FRED… Hang on.” Sam looked down at the screen of her laptop, smiling slightly. “I think I may be getting somewhere. There’s a slight spike of energy right about… here.” Her attention focused on the spot in question, Sam checked it carefully for a button or control panel of some kind. Her efforts were rewarded with a dim glow and a low humming noise when her finger brushed over a symbol on its otherwise smooth surface but her initial joy quickly faded when, after just a few seconds of life, the device switched off again.
“Never trust a Goa’uld repair shop.” Jack muttered, patting Sam’s shoulder briefly. “It’s a start, at least. Keep going.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sam had barely picked up her small tool pouch to further explore the device when something sounding almost like a klaxon blared, followed by barked orders in Goa’uld.
“I don’t need to speak Goa’uld to know that that’s not good.” Jack said. “Let’s go - Makepeace! Daniel! I think we’ve worn out our welcome here!”
Makepeace had already begun to evacuate the others when they caught up with him. They had scarcely reached the corridor leading to the exit when they heard the now familiar sound of a ring transporter activating.
None of them needed to hear the clunking of Jaffa armour to know who would be right behind them.
“I guess the stronghold wasn’t as abandoned as we hoped.” Makepeace joked half-heartedly as they sprinted in the direction of the stargate, a dozen or so Jaffa hard on their heels.
Teal’c, bringing up the rear, fired his staff weapon at their pursuers, but they were not easily thwarted and, despite the heavy armour the Jaffa wore, they were able to close the distance between them very quickly.
Ducking behind a rock, Jack returned fire, an example his companions quickly followed.
Several of the Jaffa took hits, hitting the ground with heavy thuds and remaining motionless. Their fellow warriors returned fire and continued to advance.
“It is possible that there are more Jaffa within the stronghold.” Teal’c warned as soon as he could get close enough to Jack for his voice to be heard over the weapons’ fire. “We must leave before reinforcements can arrive.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Jack took out another of the Jaffa before motioning to Daniel and Makepeace, who were furthest away from the Jaffa. “Get to the ‘gate. Dial Earth.” He ordered. Both men hurried to obey.
As Teal’c had feared, more Jaffa were sprinting in their direction.
“O’Neill!”
“I see them.” Jack acknowledged. “Carter, take Mitchell and Irwin and secure the ‘gate. We’ll follow you as soon as we’ve dealt with our friends here. Go!”
The remaining quartet continued to return fire, taking out as many of the Jaffa as possible but reinforcements were spilling from the stronghold, tearing through the forest after them.
“Daniel, are you at the gate yet?”
“I’m here!” Daniel’s hand quivered slightly as he entered the coordinates for Earth on the DHD, slapping his palm down on the center the instant the seventh symbol glowed. The stargate leapt to life, the unstable vortex splashing forth before it settled into a shimmering blue puddle.
“O’Neill!”
Alerted by Teal’c’s shout, Jack was able to shoot one of the Jaffa before he fired but Makepeace, close behind him, was not so lucky. A staff blast caught him on his right side, sending him flying. He collided with Jack as he fell, the impact winding both men.
Glancing back to see Jack and Makepeace fall, Sam ran back in their direction, an example Mitchell and Irwin were not slow in following.
She shot the Jaffa nearest to Jack and Makepeace but did not see the warrior approaching through the forest, or hear Mitchell’s shouted warning until it was too late. Swinging his staff weapon, the Jaffa swept her feet out from under her, knocking her flat on her back.
The Jaffa hefted his staff weapon a second time, intent on smashing her skull. Instinctively raising her arm as though it would be able to ward off the blow, Sam watched in shock as the Jaffa was knocked off his feet like a tiny plastic toy swatted by a large, invisible hand, sailing through the air before crashing into a tree at least ten meters away, the impact rendering him unconscious.
“What the…” From his prone position on the ground, Makepeace gaped up at her, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Sam was having a tough time believing it herself.
Mitchell and Teal’c dispatched the two remaining Jaffa and, keeping his focus, Jack ordered everyone through the stargate, he and Teal’c bringing up the rear with Sam between them.
The alarms in the gate room were blaring when they stepped through the stargate, a nod to Walter in the control room prompting the sergeant to close the iris.
General Hammond surveyed the remaining teams for damage and ordered a medical team for Makepeace before addressing Jack. “I take it your mission didn’t go as planned, Colonel.”
Jack’s attention was more on Sam than on his commanding officer, his expression concerned. “I think that’d be a fair assessment, sir.”
Promising General Hammond that he would be back to give him the details as soon as he could, Jack swiftly led Sam out of the gate room and up to the infirmary, where Makepeace had already been taken, despite his protests that he was fine.
Hammond, knowing that something would have to be very wrong for his second in command to behave like that, refrained from questioning him, allowing them to leave without hindrance. He had not missed the hard look in Jack’s eyes as he frowned at the remaining members of SGs 1 and 3, silently warning them against something, and he meant to get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.
Jack didn’t say much as he brought Sam down to the infirmary, unsure what he could say. She didn’t say a word.
When they got to the infirmary, Janet was busy examining Makepeace so she simply gestured towards another of the beds.
Sam sat awkwardly on the side of the bed, wishing to be anywhere but there. Makepeace’s teammates trooped into the infirmary to check on their commander shortly after she and Jack had arrived and she was uncomfortably conscious of their curious stares.
Jack pulled the curtains around her bed closed with an impatient tug, shielding them from the stares. “Idiots.” He muttered contemptuously. “You’d think that we never saw anything weird around here. Are you okay?” She nodded. “Do you want to tell me what happened out there?” He asked gently.
Sam shook her head. She had no idea how she had done what she had and, in any case, it was the last thing she wanted to talk about. Despite her efforts not to think about it, the events on P7I-467 played through her mind on an endless loop. “You ordered me to get Major Mitchell and Irwin back to the stargate.” She observed quietly.
“Carter?” Jack was puzzled.
“You should have given the order to Major Mitchell. He’s your second-in-command, not me, not any more.”
“It’s not important.”
“It is.” She insisted. “You do it a lot.”
He opened his mouth to argue but realized that she had a point. “I didn’t even notice that I was doing it, but you’re right.” He smiled slightly. “In my defence, you were my longest serving SG-1 second in command. Old habits die hard – especially in old men.”
“You’re not old, sir.” She objected.
He grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Carter.” He glanced down at his watch, anxious to get back to give General Hammond his report on what had happened before he could hear it from somebody else and to make sure that the details of Sam’s performance were kept quiet. “I’m going to see what’s holding the Doc up.” He told her, slipping out of the cubicle to get Janet, who had finished with Makepeace and was sending his men away to clean up, with strict orders to return immediately for their check-ups.
Janet’s eyes were wide when she heard his brief explanation of what had happened. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” He said quietly. “I’ve got to go talk to Hammond, keep an eye on Carter until I get back.”
“Of course.”
Teal’c entered the infirmary. “I will remain with Captain Carter until your return, O’Neill.” He announced immediately.
“Thanks, T.” Jack looked across at Makepeace’s team as they left, ready to follow and warn them to hold their tongues.
“I already told them to keep quiet.” Makepeace spoke up, as though reading Jack’s thoughts. “How’s Carter?” He asked quietly.
“She’ll be fine.” Jack said firmly, unwilling to entertain the possibility that she might not be.
“She saved all our asses.” Makepeace said seriously, gingerly touching his side and thanking Heaven that the staff blast had struck his vest insert.
“Yeah.” Jack agreed quietly, glancing back at Sam’s cubicle again before leaving the infirmary.
“Are you serious?” Hammond stared at Jack, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“I’m afraid so, sir.”
“Are you sure? Maybe…” He tried to come up with an alternative explanation for what he had just heard but he could not come up with anything.
“I was less than six feet away from her, sir. There’s no mistake. Carter sent that goon flying without laying so much as a finger on him. She was as shocked as the rest of us – maybe more.” Jack added.
“Where is she now?”
“I brought her down to the infirmary. Fraiser’s probably running tests on her as we speak. Looks like whoever took her sent her back with a superpower.” Jack commented. “I wonder if Carter’s the only one, or if any of the other 4400s have one too.”
“If they do, NTAC have been doing a great job of keeping it quiet.” Hammond answered, his tone sober. “There have been a few references to it in the tabloids - but those rags aren't exactly known for getting their facts straight before printing whatever rubbish they come up with. Unfortunately, I can’t very well make any official enquiries without explaining why I’m asking – and I think that it would be best to keep this amongst ourselves for the time being.”
Jack nodded agreement, not wanting to expose Sam to any more gossip and scrutiny than she was being subjected to already but he had a sneaking suspicion that keeping this secret might be easier said than done.
The curtains around Sam’s bed were closed, allowing her some semblance of privacy and, while the thin fabric did not dampen the whispers, Teal’c’s presence had silenced them quite effectively.
Standing – or, more accurately, sitting – sentry on the plastic chair by her bed, Teal’c had not made any remarks about what had happened on P7I-467, choosing instead to relate anecdotes about his son, who had joined Bra’tac in his efforts to recruit more Jaffa for the rebellion against the Goa’uld. Knowing small talk was not among Teal'c's greater talents, she appreciated the effort, and was certainly glad for the conversation keeping her mind off of... everything.
She was grateful for the reprieve, having no desire to speak about what had happened if she could possibly avoid it.
Once the last members of SG-3 had finished their post-mission physicals and been banished from the infirmary – Daniel had moved to join Sam as soon as he was done – Janet turned her attention to Sam, checking her vital signs and grilling her about any symptoms.
“None, I feel fine.”
“You’re better off than Cassie was, then.” Janet remarked, shuddering inwardly at the memory of how close she had come to losing her daughter.
Sam, who had been told the story, was thinking of the same incident, and of another a year later. “Do you think that Nirrti might have been the one to take us? You told me that she’s been trying to give humans enhanced abilities. Or maybe it was another Goa’uld?” She asked, unsure what she wanted to hear in response. While she wanted, needed to know why she had been taken, she didn’t want to imagine what a Goa’uld might have programmed her to do.
“It is highly unlikely.” Teal’c answered immediately. “I know of no Goa’uld who possesses technology that would allow them to travel through time.”
“Even the Asgard can’t do that.” Daniel contributed.
“In any case, had Nirrti, or any other Goa’uld succeeded in creating a hok’tar, they would have immediately taken them as a host, and had they been unable to do so, they would have destroyed their captives rather than returning them.” Teal’c’s words may not have been the most comforting ever spoken, but Sam found his logic reassuring.
“Thanks.”
“Alright, gentlemen,” Janet gestured for both men to leave the cubicles. “If you could both step outside and let me do my job, I’d appreciate it.”
Both men obeyed, Daniel pausing to pat Sam’s hand gently, bending down to whisper a sympathetic “Good luck” before Janet shooed him away.
The SGC gossip mills were operating even more efficiently than Jack had feared.
While everyone had the sense not to speak of Sam’s apparent new abilities within earshot of General Hammond’s office, while on his way to the infirmary less than two hours after SGs 1 and 3 had returned, Jack had heard more than one person whispering, their conversations abruptly cut off when they saw him.
One particularly foolish SF, who had failed to heed his companions’ frantic signals for him to keep quiet, and continued to share his theories about Sam and somebody he referred to as ‘the 4400 menace’, had wound up on the receiving end of a stiff rebuke from a less than pleased colonel, with the threat of a transfer to McMurdo if he didn’t start paying more attention to his duties and less to gossiping about superior officers.
“Colonel O’Neill?” Mitchell, seeing his commanding officer, jogged down the corridor to catch up with him only to be rebuffed with an impatient gesture.
“Not now, Major.” Jack barely spared the other man a glance, intent on getting to the infirmary and checking on Sam.
As he had expected, Teal’c and Daniel had not strayed far from the infirmary, and were waiting patiently just outside while Janet was examining Sam.
“How is she?”
“Pretty freaked out.” Daniel answered Jack’s question honestly. “Janet’s doing a CAT scan and getting X-rays and blood tests.”
“I was.” Janet spoke up from behind them. “The tests are done for the moment. I think that Sam might appreciate some company while I go through her results.”
They needed no further prompting and were in the infirmary and by Sam’s bed within moments.
“How are you doing, Carter?” Jack asked, snagging the chair by the bed and sitting down. Sam didn’t answer. “You know, you really never needed to go to these lengths to get our attention; disappearing for six years, reappearing in a ball of light and now developing super powers.” He teased. She smiled slightly. “That’s better.”
“Are you hungry?” Daniel asked, wanting to do something to help. “I could get something for you in the commissary.”
“We could order a pizza.” Jack joked. “Do you think that Dominoes deliver down here?”
“Not to my infirmary they don’t.” Janet said firmly, appearing behind him with Sam’s chart in her hand. “They’re running tests on your blood samples in the lab.” She told Sam. “I’ve got your X-rays back, and I can’t find anything out of the ordinary.”
“What about the CAT scan?” Sam asked.
Janet frowned, worried. “I wasn’t able to get a clear reading, Sam. There was interference of some kind. I’m going to have the equipment checked before we try again.”
“Do you honestly think that it’s your equipment that’s the problem?” Sam asked rhetorically, twisting the infirmary blanket between her fingers. “Because I really doubt that that’s the case.”
Why was this happening to her? Why had she been taken and why had she been sent back like this?
“Carter!” Jack’s voice was sharp as he spoke her name. He, like Daniel, Teal’c and Janet, was more than a little unnerved when they saw several the objects nearby start to shake uncontrollably in response to Sam’s agitation. “Calm down.” He cautioned.
Taking a few deep breaths, Sam was able to calm herself and the rattling objects stilled.
Her eyes were wide as she looked around at her friends. “What’s happening to me?”
Evening
After the events of the day, Mitchell was thankful to be able to get off the base and back to his apartment and was looking forward to a quiet evening at home.
Finding a man he had never met before sitting in his living room, clearly making himself quite at home, was a surprise and not a welcome one.
“I don’t believe we’ve met before, Major.” The intruder spoke before he had a chance to. “My name is Robert Kinsey – I see that you’ve heard of me.” He said, seeing Mitchell frown. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, son.”
“What are you doing here?” As he was addressing a United States Senator, Mitchell managed to keep his tone reasonably polite, but he had no intention of being a gracious host to somebody who had broken into his home.
“I need to talk to you.” Kinsey said simply. He gestured towards the chair opposite him. “Have a seat.”
“What is it you want to talk about?” Mitchell asked suspiciously as he reluctantly sat down, more than a little ticked off at being treated like a guest in his own home. He briefly considered decking the senator but was able to keep his temper in check. “‘Cause I don’t know much about politics and I’m not about to help you shut down the SGC…”
“I see that you’ve been listening to Colonel O’Neill.” Though Kinsey’s tone remained pleasant, a slight frown marred his brow. “I admit that we’ve had our differences in the past, but I can assure you that I have no plans to shut down the Stargate Program. Even if I don’t agree with all the decisions that have been made in the past, I can’t deny its importance to this planet and to our continuing survival.”
“Oh.” Mitchell wasn’t sure what to say to that. The descriptions of Senator Kinsey he had heard from his teammates had been far from flattering but, so far, his unexpected guest was not living up to them.
“I’ve been very impressed with the reports I’ve read of your work on SG-1, by the way.” Kinsey praised him. “You’re just the kind of man we need out there, protecting the people of Earth.”
“Uh… thank you, sir.”
“It’s a shame that Colonel O’Neill and General Hammond can’t see the contribution you can make to the program, but then again, they’ve always been loyal to their own – even when its unwise.”
“If this is about Captain Carter…”
“Captain Carter, and more than four thousand others.” Kinsey cut in. “NTAC have gone to a lot of trouble to hide what’s been happening since they got back, but the NID have been able to uncover some very disturbing information.” He opened his briefcase, taking out two folders and laying one of them on the table between them. He handed the other to Mitchell, who accepted it silently. “You may have heard this name - Orson Bailey.” He announced. “He’s one of the 4400. I have to warn you – some of the images in these files are pretty unsettling.”
This was an understatement, Mitchell reflected, looking at a print out of an X-ray taken of a shattered skull.
“That was Adam Kensington.” Kinsey told him. “And as far as we can tell, Bailey did that without laying a finger on him. And this other one, Oliver Knox, a serial killer before he was abducted, was able to influence innocent men to commit murders for him. Two women were killed, brutally, and it was a close call with a third.” He passed Mitchell the second file. “These are just two, Major, two out of 4400. Who knows what the rest of them will prove to be capable of.”
A memory of the two Jaffa hurtling through the air came unbidden to Mitchell’s mind.
“Unfortunately, as a member of the SGC, of SG-1, Captain Carter is in a position to cause considerable damage.” Kinsey continued.
“Even if these two killed people, it doesn’t mean that the rest of them will.” Mitchell protested, though his tone was not as confident as his words.
“True.” Kinsey agreed unexpectedly. “It’s possible that some of the 4400 may prove harmless. However,” he met Mitchell’s gaze squarely. “We have no way of knowing which group Captain Carter is going to be in, do we?”
“I guess not.” He conceded reluctantly.
“And I don’t think that we can afford to take that gamble with the lives of your team, or the lives of everybody else at the SGC, everybody else on this planet, do you? For all our sakes, we need to find out for sure, one way or the other.”
Mitchell was silent for a few moments; digesting the information Kinsey had given him before he spoke.
“What do you need me to do?”
“How are you managing with unpacking?” Daniel asked, looking up from his translation. “Did you get all of your stuff back from storage alright?”
“Most of it is still in boxes, I haven’t brought all of them back to the house yet.” Sam told him. “But nearly everything was in great condition. I can’t believe that you guys kept them packed away for all those years. I would have thought that the house and everything in it would have been sold a long time ago.” She had been able to move into her old house the previous week, as soon as the people who had been renting it while she was away had departed and she had been pleasantly surprised to find it almost completely unchanged.
“Jack would never have let us.” Daniel told her before snorting. “Wish he’d done the same for me when I was gone. Every time I die, I lose all my stuff and I end up living in quarters on the base for more than a month before I get a chance to find a place.”
“That’s what you get for dying.” Jack said from the doorway, hearing his friend’s last statement. “Carter was alive, well and getting a superpower.”
Daniel made a face at his friend. “It’s not like I plan it.” He picked up his coffee cup, frowning when he saw that it, along with the pot at his side, was empty. “I’m going to get a fresh pot. Need anything?” He asked Sam.
“No, thanks.”
“I’m fine too, thanks for asking.” Jack quipped, but Daniel was already half way out the door and ignored him. He turned to Sam. “What are you doing here? I thought that you were in your own lab.”
“I was.” She told him quietly. “But everyone kept looking in to make sure that I wasn’t going to turn Carrie and blow up the base.” She sighed. “I hate this. Janet said that she couldn’t figure out how I changed. Which means that she can’t reverse it.”
“You know, it could end up being a good thing. Hear me out,” Jack said hastily, seeing the expression on Sam’s face. “I know that it’s a little unpredictable now…”
“A little?” She stared at him incredulously.
“But I’d bet that’s nothing that practice won’t cure.”
“I doubt that General Hammond would want me to practice tossing people around.”
“We don’t keep Siler around because he’s pretty.” Jack joked. “But if you don’t want to practice on him, you can always start small - Hammond said that the gym is at your disposal whenever you want to use it. You can toss basketballs and stuff like that around to your heart’s content.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t want me to…”
“I think he’d rather you learned to control it, don’t you?” Jack cut in gently.
“He thinks I’m dangerous.” She said quietly. “Everyone must.”
“Nobody who knows you thinks you’re dangerous, Carter, we know that you would never try to hurt us. And as far as your new power goes, it saved my spectacular ass so I definitely consider it a plus. But if you can’t control it, it could become a problem. Besides,” he added, “you can’t tell me that you’re not even a little bit curious about what you can do.”
“Maybe a little.” She admitted reluctantly.
“So why not experiment with it a bit?” He urged. “It can’t hurt.”
“I guess…” Sam wasn’t fully convinced but that didn’t seem to matter, Jack was already tugging her out of Daniel’s lab.
“So,” Jack said, trying to sound worried and failing. “Do you think I’m going to need to wear a helmet?”
Mitchell had always known that his acting skills were far from Oscar worthy. Even in his elementary school plays, he had always preferred to stick to working backstage instead of acting.
Pretending to be somebody he wasn’t had never come easy to him.
Now, as he moved through the corridors of the SGC, exchanging occasional greetings with people passing by, he was very conscious of how much depended on his ability to deceive and he was afraid of what would happen if his performance failed to convince.
There was a lot at stake here.
Afternoon
After just a couple of hours spent trying to levitate objects in the gym, Sam had felt more exhausted than she normally did after working in her lab for forty-eight hours straight.
Making things move seemed to be no problem; when she concentrated, she had been able to lift anything - from basketballs to weights Jack had sworn even Teal’c couldn’t bench press - without any trouble. However, exercising a finer control over her newfound ability had proven to be far more of a challenge.
“General Hammond isn’t going to be happy, is he?” She asked, looking down at the grooves and scratches that various falling objects had marred the floor with.
“Don’t worry about the floor, Carter,” Jack said, “this is just practice. Just think,” he added, grinning, “if you can learn to control this, you might be able to juggle Jaffa with your mind some day.” She didn’t seem to find this prospect anywhere near as appealing as he did. Scrutinizing her features carefully, Jack noticed her pale face and exhaustion. “This takes a lot out of you, doesn’t it?” He observed sympathetically.
“I could do with a break.”
Knowing that she would never admit that unless she was really wiped, Jack nodded, “I’ll let Hammond know that you’re leaving early - no arguments,” He warned, “I don’t want Doc Fraiser using me as her personal pin cushion for the next month.”
“Yes, sir.” She agreed quietly, leaving the gym and heading towards the locker room to change.
She ran into Mitchell on her way to the elevator. “Major,” she acknowledged him politely.
“Captain. Headed home early?”
“Yes, sir. Colonel O’Neill ordered me out so they could make repairs in the gym.”
“ I wondered what that was. I could hear it from the commissary,” he remarked good-naturedly before adding. “You know, you don’t have to call me ‘sir’. It makes me feel old.”
“Umm… okay.” She hadn’t quite made up her mind about SG-1’s most recent 2IC, and, while she had been relieved to be allowed back on SG-1, she had been worried that Mitchell might have felt that he was being replaced. She knew enough about that feeling not to wish it on anybody else.
“You’d better head then,” Mitchell said after a moment of uncomfortable quiet. “See you tomorrow.”
“You too.”
The Airmen Jack had stuck with the cleaning job in the gym had been curious about the cause of the considerable damage to the floor but they had wisely refrained from asking questions or commenting on it, which was fortunate for them as Jack was becoming extremely impatient with the level of curiousity and even suspicion that was still directed at Sam, even more so since General Hammond’s warning and the appearance of Sam’s new ability.
Dropping by his office, he took one look at the stack of paper work awaiting his attention and decided that that was something that could wait until after he’d fortified himself for the task with a large slice of cake.
Passing by one of the small offices along the way to the commissary, he could hear furtive whispering. Hearing the name ‘Carter’, closely followed by the word ‘freaks’, he marched into the office, almost giving the two SFs sitting in front of a computer, their eyes glued to the screen, full-fledged heart attacks.
“Either of you want to tell me what’s going on in here?” He asked, motioning for them to move aside and allow him to see the webpage they were visiting. “‘The - somehow I don’t think that the Air Force is paying you boys to spend your time looking up this crap. Is it?” He demanded.
“No, sir.”
“No, sir.”
Though their responses were suitably contrite, the slight defiance in their eyes did not go unnoticed.
Although Jack’s first instinct was to beat the crap out of them both, he restrained himself - albeit with some difficulty.
“Get your asses to General Hammond’s office and report yourselves – now!” He snapped, the ferocity of his tone sending both men fleeing. Neither would dare do anything other than report their actions to the general as ordered; if they hadn’t when Jack checked with him, it would go a lot worse for them.
Mentally resolving to have someone check out both men’s computer and phone history to see if either of them were MNCN’s secret informant, Jack reached for the mouse to shut down the computer. was, like pretty much every website about the returnees, an electronic tabloid, complete with garish illustrations and flashing headlines. He was about to close out of the page when he spotted a heading that made his blood run cold.
Under a crudely animated head labelled ‘The 4400 Menace’, was a caption in a bright yellow font; ‘Where Are The 4400?’ Clicking on it, he scrolled through the list. He had hit #1 on his speed dial even before he saw her name.
Sam had just fished her keys out of her bag when her cellphone started ringing and, balancing her purse awkwardly, she dug through it with her right hand while turning the key with her left.
She unearthed her phone, and flipped it open, only to drop it when she felt a sharp pricking at the side of her neck. She touched it gingerly, her fingers coming away wet with blood and swiftly becoming numb. A pair of strong arms caught her as her legs gave way beneath her, a large hand covering over her mouth and stifling any noise she might have made. A second person caught her legs and between them they hauled her across the street and into a van.
The sound of an explosion tore through her head, and then she knew no more.
Carter’s house was a wreck.
The fire department had arrived shortly before Jack had and were dousing the still smouldering embers when he pulled up outside the house, climbing out of the car and approaching, ignoring the warnings against getting too close.
Once he had identified himself, they had allowed him to move past the barricades they had set up, though he was told in no uncertain terms not to enter the house itself until they were satisfied that it was safe.
The air still smelled faintly of petrol, the front door had been blown to splinters and the walls were blackened with smoke.
As it was still early afternoon, only a few of Sam’s neighbours were home but those that were had already gathered around to watch, whispering amongst themselves, speculating as to who could possibly have done such a thing.
Jack knew better than to think that any of them would know anything about what had happened just before and after the bomb had gone off, the explosion had been an effective distraction – which, of course, had been the idea behind it – but he made a note to have the people Hammond was sending make enquiries once they arrived.
He was about to take out his own cellphone to dial Cheyenne Mountain when he trod on something and bending down, picked up a familiar item, slightly melted and hot to the touch but recognizable none the less.
Although it was slightly melted and hot to the touch, Carter’s phone was pretty much intact. He prayed that the same could be said for its owner.
‘The one day I persuade Carter to go home early and something like this happens!’ One of the firemen was saying something but he scarcely heard it over the roar of his own thoughts. “Sorry?”
“There’s no body, sir.” The other man repeated quietly. “It is unlikely that Miss…”
“Captain.” Jack corrected automatically.
“It is unlikely that Captain Carter was inside when the bomb exploded.”
“Right,” Jack nodded absently, his eyes still on her cellphone, “thanks.”
Although he was grateful beyond words to know that she hadn’t died in the explosion, he had no idea where she was now and, worse still, no idea where he should begin looking.
Her head ached.
The painful throbbing in the back of her skull was the first thing Sam became aware of when she began to stir back to consciousness, followed by the stiffness of her limbs and a rough carpet rubbing against her skin.
The surface on which she was lying lurched slightly, the engine beneath her humming as it sped along, bearing her Heaven knew where.
Forcing one eye open, she noted her surroundings; she was lying on the floor of a van and, more importantly, she was alone. If her headache and rising nausea were any indication, she had been drugged, and heavily at that. Had it not been for the naquadah and protein marker Jolinar had left behind, she would undoubtedly still have been unconscious. To her surprise, she hadn’t been bound or gagged as she had half-expected.
‘Must have thought I’d be out cold more than long enough to get wherever we’re going.’ She surmised, stretching her left leg experimentally, doing likewise with her right when the left obeyed her.
So far, so good.
Turning her head as much as her prone position and headache allowed, she could make out two slightly blurred shapes behind the dense wire mesh separating her from the front of the van and her abductors.
Moving as silently as possible, she began to turn towards the rear of the van, closing her eyes and remaining still, trying to keep her breathing slow and even when one of her captors turned to look in on her. Satisfied that she was still out for the count, he turned back to his companion, chatting as comfortably as if they were on a Sunday drive, not kidnapping somebody.
Wherever they were planning on taking her, Sam was pretty certain that she wasn’t going to like it.
Using her newly developed abilities was not something she was comfortable doing, especially as her control over them was very limited but the old adage that desperate times called for desperate measures definitely fit with her current predicament.
Her legs were free; if she could get out of the van, she could take it from there.
‘I just need to get that door open,’ she thought, focusing on the locked door in front of her and trying to nudge it open.
A moment later, the sunlight was almost blinding her and the van door hit the road with a deafening crash.
Taking advantage of the seconds it took her chauffeurs to register what had happened, Sam rolled out the back of the van, landing heavily and pulling herself to her feet with some difficulty.
It was a quiet stretch of road, with no other vehicles passing by to come to the rescue.
“S--t!” Realising that they were missing their passenger, along with their rear door, the man driving the van turned the vehicle in a sharp U-turn and pressed his foot to the accelerator.
It was a reflex, or at least that’s what Sam tried to convince herself afterwards.
The van sped towards her, its driver more than prepared to run her over if that was what it took to recapture her.
‘Or they’re not fussy about whether they bring me in dead or alive.’ Sam thought, focusing her energy on ‘nudging’ the van off course and watching in mingled astonishment and horror as it was knocked away, sparks flying when its roof and sides scraped the road as it turned in a drunken cartwheel before it landed, upside-down, its wheels continuing to turn in the air for a few moments before slowing to a stop.
As promised, General Hammond had sent a team in to interview Sam’s neighbours and to investigate the scene, albeit unofficially. NTAC, as the body responsible for the 4400, had been informed and their people would have full jurisdiction over the investigation. Jack had extremely limited faith in their ability to find Sam but even Hammond could not overrule the director of NTAC, so the best the SGC personnel could do was to quietly look into it themselves.
At least they had a head start.
When Jack’s cellphone rang, he answered it before it had reached the second ring, “O’Neill.” He said, hoping against hope that Sam had been able to escape and get to a phone. Though familiar, the voice on the other end of the line was not what Jack would have called a welcome one. Far from it.
“This day just keeps getting better and better.” He groused.
“Hi Jack.” The greeting was cheerful.
Jack scowled, in no mood for games. “What do you want, Maybourne?”
“I heard that you lost Carter… again.”
“If you had anything to do with this, I swear to God…”
“Jack!” Maybourne cut him off reproachfully. “I’m hurt that you would even think that!”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
“I have some ideas, nothing concrete yet…”
“Do you know where Carter might have been taken?” Jack demanded, cutting him off. He did not have the time or the inclination to let Maybourne lead him on a wild goose chase, not when Sam’s life was in danger.
“No, but…”
“Do you know anything that I can use?”
“Not yet…”
“Wait until you do before calling again.” Jack ordered brusquely, hanging up without another word.
When Mitchell dropped by Daniel’s office in the hopes that he could organize an SG-1 team night, something they hadn’t done over the past couple of months, not since Carter’s return, he found not one but two of his teammates deeply absorbed in their work and while it was far from unheard of for Daniel to bury himself in a translation or pet project, emerging sporadically for food and coffee, it was certainly out of character for Teal’c to do the same.
“Hey, guys.” Neither returned his greeting or even seemed to register his presence. “What’s going on?”
When Daniel looked up from his work, Mitchell could see that his face was taut with worry. “Sam’s missing.”
“Missing?” He repeated, hoping that there had been a mistake of some kind. His three male teammates had, after all, been pretty watchful of Carter since her return, as if they feared that she would be snatched away again. “I just saw her a couple of hours ago, she was going home early. Maybe she went out somewhere.” He suggested.
Daniel scowled. “Sam’s not in the habit of bombing her own house when she goes out for the afternoon.”
“Oh…” It was a few moments before Mitchell recovered his wits enough to ask, “Where’s Colonel O’Neill?”
“O’Neill is attempting to track Captain Carter’s whereabouts.” Teal’c told him, looking up from his computer.
Mitchell was surprised that Teal’c and Daniel weren’t out there searching too but before he could come up with a polite way of asking why they weren’t, Daniel answered his unspoken question.
“Jack and General Hammond think that the people responsible have an informant on the base,” Daniel explained, “otherwise they wouldn’t have known that Sam had left early this afternoon. We’re going through the computer records of everyone on the base, seeing who they’ve been in contact with, to find out who’s been leaking information.”
Mitchell felt his throat tighten. “Have you found anything yet?”
Daniel looked at him as though he doubted his sanity. “We’ve just started working on this, we haven’t even had a chance to scratch the surface, let alone dig any deeper.” He pointed out sharply. “It’ll take a lot longer than this to search.”
“Right.” Mitchell hoped that his awkwardness and discomfort wasn’t showing on his face. “Would you… is there anything I can do?”
“That will not be necessary, Major Mitchell.” Teal’c responded before Daniel had a chance to speak, his tone permitting no argument. “Daniel Jackson and I can complete this task.”
“Okay.” Unnerved by the stony glare on Teal’c’s face, Mitchell made his excuses and left Daniel’s office as fast as he could, retrieving his cellphone from his locker and making his way to the elevator and the surface.
He needed to talk to Kinsey. Now.
“So why exactly isn’t the Colorado branch dealing with this case?” Tom Baldwin asked, curious as to why they had been given a case that should have fallen under the umbrella of a different branch of NTAC, especially when their work with the 4400 in their own region was keeping them more than occupied.
“I asked to take part in this case.” His partner, Diana Skouris, responded, her attention focused more on the file she was reading than on him.
“Why?” He demanded, angry that he was being dragged away from his son, who had been awake for less than a week, after a coma lasting three years. “What’s so special about this case? Any powers?”
“None – or at least none that we know of.” She amended, leafing through the thin file. “Samantha Carter, an Air Force captain, disappeared in August ’98. PhD in Astrophysics. Currently working in deep space radar telemetry.” She glanced up. “Most of her medical check-ups are handled by the doctor at the base, Janet Fraiser. She’s scheduled for check-ups with the NTAC doctors every two months.”
This got his attention. “Why not every week like the others?” Even Jordan Collier was obliged to attend his mandatory weekly check-ups.
“That’s what I’d like to know.” Diana responded. “According to her file, her base commander – a Major General George Hammond – appealed directly to Ryland to allow this arrangement.”
“That must have taken some string-pulling.”
“Definitely. There’s also a note in this file stating that Captain Carter may not be available for all of her weekly check-ins.”
“So what would keep an astrophysicist who studies deep space radar telemetry from checking in at NTAC once a week?”
“Your guess is as good as mine – this is the address.” She told him, tucking loose sheets back into the folder and waiting until Tom had pulled in and parked the car before climbing out and approaching the house, wrinkling her nose at the acrid smell of smoke, still lingering in the air.
Making a beeline for the police officers investigating the scene, neither agent noticed a man pulling a vibrating cellphone from his pocket, or saw him hurrying away.
Although he would have given almost anything for a chance to meet the people who had taken Sam and held her for six years, to exchange some strong words – and maybe a few good punches – with them, right now Jack was thankful that, whatever else, they had at least sent her back with the telekinetic ability that had allowed her to make her escape.
‘Although if they hadn’t kidnapped her in the first place, whoever took her this time probably wouldn’t have been interested.’ He reflected, only half-conscious of the fact that he was driving a good ten or fifteen miles above the speed limit.
Two people he guessed had been sent by NTAC had arrived as Sam’s call came through but he hadn’t had to think twice before deciding against telling them. Until they knew more about what was going on, their investigation would probably go a lot more smoothly without NTAC’s people underfoot.
Thankfully, she had been able to escape before they had taken her very far away and it was less than an hour before he parked his car along in the small, almost deserted car part outside the motel where they had arranged to meet.
Sam had been somewhat vague about how exactly she had been able to get away from her captors and he hadn’t pressed her for details.
As he climbed out of his car and locked the doors, he heard another vehicle pull up behind him. He glared when he saw who was got out of the car.
“You! You rat bas…”
“Easy, Jack!” Maybourne ducked to avoid a punch that would have knocked him flat, lifting both hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m not here to hurt anyone, I swear.”
The idea of trusting Maybourne was almost funny but Jack wasn’t laughing. “How’d you…”
“How did I know where you were?” Maybourne’s tone was casual. “Put a tracer on your phone. I figured that you’d be the first person Carter would call if she got a chance to try and contact somebody.”
“If you even think about touching her, I swear that they won’t even be able to identify what’s left of the body.” Jack’s voice was low and Maybourne knew better than to think that he was exaggerating.
“I wouldn’t do that, Jack.” He said seriously before cracking a small smile. “It wouldn’t have been a good idea before, it’d be an even worse idea now if she’s picked up a super power on her travels like some of her 4400 friends have.” Seeing the look on Jack’s face, his own expression mingled astonishment and delight. “She did, didn’t she? What did she get? Telepathy? Seeing the future? Super strength?” He quizzed eagerly as he followed Jack to the motel room Sam had arranged to meet him at.
“You read too many comic books.”
“No such thing. Come on, Jack!” He wheedled. “Give me a hint. Can she shoot lightning bolts? See in the dark? Start fires with her mind?”
“Shut up!” Jack hissed, not wanting to attract attention but knowing that he would get no peace until the other man’s curiousity had been satisfied. “Telekinesis,” he said in a low voice, “and if you so much as mention the name Carrie in front of her…”
“Would I do that?” Maybourne’s expression was the picture of injured innocence.
“I wouldn’t put it past you.”
Ignoring Jack’s glares, Maybourne glanced at the low building in front of them. “Room 4, wasn’t it?” he asked, not waiting for an answer before striding towards the numbered door.
“Get back here!” Jack chased after the other man, grabbing him by the collar before he could knock.
Hearing his voice, Sam opened the door, saluting automatically when she saw Maybourne. “Colonel Maybourne…”
“We don’t salute wanted fugitives, Carter.” Jack reminded her, ushering her back into the room and scowling when Maybourne followed.
“Sorry, sir.” She murmured sheepishly. She had been filled in on her team’s major exploits during her absence, including Maybourne’s treachery but sometimes it was difficult to remember everything that had happened while she had been gone.
“Oh, give her a break, Jack,” Maybourne defended her, smirking, “she’s been out of the loop for a while.”
Ignoring the other man, Jack kept his attention focused on Sam, looking at her for signs of injury and seeing that, apart from some scrapes on her hands, she was unharmed. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“No, sir, I’m fine.” She assured him.
“Thank God!” He pulled her into a quick hug, then released her. “You know this really has to stop, Carter.” He chided, worry making his tone sharper than he intended.
“Sir?”
“This whole getting kidnapped thing, it’s not funny anymore – that time with the Shavadai was bad enough, then you’re gone for six years, now this!” He gestured towards his head. “You’re giving me grey hair!”
“Me? What about all those times Daniel died?” Sam suggested, biting her lower lip to keep from smiling at his indignation.
“You know what else causes grey hair?” Maybourne chimed in helpfully. “Old age.”
Jack turned to glare at him. “Did I ask you – and don’t you even think about giggling.” He added warningly to Sam. He studied her face for a few moments, noting the slightly pale cast to her skin. “Are you sure that you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.” She insisted.
“I’m sure the other guys are in worse shape than she is.” Although Maybourne did not see Sam’s slight flinch at his words, Jack did but he refrained from questioning her about it. He could guess that it wasn’t a conversation they would want to have in front of Maybourne.
“Uh, sir,” Sam nodded in Maybourne’s direction. “Why did you bring…”
“I didn’t bring him.” Jack cut her off.
“I bugged his cellphone.” Maybourne told her calmly. “I don’t suppose that whoever was dumb enough to try to grab you told you who they were working for?”
“How many people would want to kidnap her – no offence, Carter.”
“None taken, sir.”
Maybourne laughed incredulously. “You’re kidding, right. Between being host to a Goa’uld,”
“A Tok’ra.” Sam corrected automatically.
“Not to mention being the most intelligent person you’ve got at the SGC, I’m just surprised nobody tried to grab you before.” He told Sam. “Throw in the 4400 thing and I can think of at least three or four groups that would want you – and that’s just the ones in this country.”
“But how many of them would have known when I left the base?”
“Only one with an informant in the SGC.” Maybourne’s tone became serious. “I liaised with Lieutenant Tobias when I was running my operation but even then I wasn’t privy to all the information.”
“So you’re saying that we didn’t flush out all the moles, we could have another.” Jack’s frown deepened.
“Yes, if so they’re reporting to someone at the top and that person seems to be willing to do whatever it takes to get a hold of you - which is why I wouldn’t recommend that you go back there, Captain, not yet.”
Much as it pained him to admit it, even to himself, Jack knew that he was right.
“Come on, come on, pick up.” Mitchell muttered, pacing back and forth as his cellphone failed, for the umpteenth time, to get through to Senator Kinsey’s office line.
He was far enough away from the entry to the base that the SFs who stood guard could neither see or hear him but even though the area was fairly deserted, he was terrified of being overheard and he didn’t dare to stray much further away from the base, lest his teammates put two and two together and connect his absence with Carter’s disappearance.
He swore under his breath when the ringing tone was cut off, punching the buttons viciously as he redialed.
Distracted by his attempts to contact Kinsey, he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps behind him or realize that he was not alone until a heavy hand fell on his shoulder and another snatched the cellphone from his hand. He turned to see an angry face scowling down at him.
“Are you crazy?!” Makepeace demanded angrily, shaking him slightly. “Never try to contact the Senator by phone.”
“When I agreed to help, I was told that all I needed to do was to keep an eye on Carter and report her movements and any developments with her ability,” Mitchell’s anger was making it difficult for him to keep his voice low, “I never agreed to hurt her or to kidnapping!”
“There have been some bad feelings towards the 4400 lately, especially since that Knox guy,” Makepeace began, trying to pacify the other man before the SFs guarding the base could hear him, “so the Senator thought that Carter should be taken into protective custody, for her own safety.”
Mitchell snorted in derision. “So you’re saying that blowing up her house was for her own protection? You’re going to have to explain that one to me.”
“You and I both saw what she can do, and this is only the beginning – her ability” he spat out the word as though it left a bad taste in his mouth, “could end up growing more and more powerful until she can’t be controlled. Hammond and O’Neill have actually been encouraging her to practice it! She’s dangerous and she can’t be left at the SGC, or on the loose. She has to be contained.”
“And if you can’t contain her? What then?” Mitchell challenged, correctly reading the answer in Makepeace’s eyes. “I’m not going to help you kill her!” Makepeace grabbed his
arm before he could move away. “Get your hands off me!”
“It’s too late for you to turn coward, Major,” Makepeace stressed the other man’s rank, “there’s no turning back now.” Seeing the mutinous expression on Mitchell’s face, he changed his tack slightly. “What do you think will happen if O’Neill finds out that you spied on Carter for us? Or General Hammond? She’s got them both wrapped around her little finger; you’ll be off SG-1, out of the SGC, even the Air Force before you can blink. She’s not worth throwing your career away over, is she?” Seeing the other man’s resolve falter, he pressed on. “And if Carter finds out herself… she could probably break your neck just by thinking about it.”
Mitchell was silent, his expression sombre as he contemplated this.
“I’m not thrilled about this either, Cameron,” Makepeace told him quietly, “Carter was a fine officer and she could have gone on to do great things if whoever took her had just left her alone but they’ve changed her, you can’t deny that. She’s not the same person she was before. She’s a threat now and if it comes down to a choice between her and the safety of this planet… it’s not a choice at all, is it?”
“Do you ever see any of the other 4400s, Captain?”
“Every week.” Sam responded shortly, surprised that Maybourne would even need to ask. He seemed to have access to a lot of information and it wasn’t as if the restrictions placed on the 4400s since their release from Quarantine were a secret, far from it.
“No, not at your NTAC check-ins, I mean socially,” he clarified, frowning slightly when she shook her head. “That’s a shame, from what I hear quite a few of your fellow returnees are clubbing together in Seattle. And you’re not the only one to develop a special gift either. There are some very interesting abilities cropping up. Makes you wonder what whoever took you guys had in mind.”
She didn’t answer; she had been asking herself that question for months, even before her ability had manifested and so far she hadn’t come up with any answers – at least none that she wanted to consider.
Jack touched her shoulder to get her attention. “I’m going to call General Hammond to let him know that you’re safe.” He glanced at Maybourne. “He’s probably right that you shouldn’t go back to the SGC until we know for sure whether someone’s feeding information to the NID and who that person is.”
“I’ve gotta say, whoever it is, I’m impressed.” Maybourne remarked. “Someone was able to spy on the SGC and report back for years without any of you being any the wiser. You guys really need to tighten your security.”
The other man had a point, but Jack wasn’t about to say so. “We can head to my place if that’s alright with you – looks like your moving back in,” he added with a wry smile, “your house has definitely looked better.” He patted her shoulder gently before moving away and dialling a number on his cellphone.
Maybourne thankfully had the sense to stay quiet while Jack spoke to General Hammond. Although they had collaborated once or twice since his operation had been unmasked, he was still a fugitive and it was best not to advertise his involvement.
“… yes, sir. I’ll tell her.” Jack said, waiting for Hammond to hang up before returning his attention to Sam. “Hammond said to stay put,” he reported. “NTAC sent a couple of agents out to investigate when we reported that you were missing. He’s going to let them know that you’re back. No sense leaving them on their wild goose chase. He said that they’ll probably want to talk to you,” he warned, “have you decided whether or not you want to tell them about your ability? Hammond told me to tell you that it’s completely up to you. If you don’t want to, we’ll all swear that we’ve never seen you do anything unusual.”
“Okay.” There was no mistaking the relief in her voice.
“Well, now that that’s settled, I should get going,” Maybourne said cheerfully, “don’t want to overstay my welcome after all – and Captain, if you if you ever get bored at the SGC, I could always use someone like you on my side.” He glanced at Jack, raising three fingers to his forehead in a mock salute. “Be seeing you, Jack.”
Jack scowled as the other man sauntered out of the room, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. “One of these days, I really am going to shoot that guy.” He muttered. “You ready to get out of here?”
“Yes, sir,” her response was quiet.
“Sam, are you sure that you’re okay?” Jack asked gently, concerned.
“Fine, sir.” She responded automatically.
“So why don’t I believe you?” He studied her expression for a moment. “Do you want to tell me how you were able to get away from the goons who grabbed you?”
“I think you can guess.”
“You used your power.” It wasn’t a question. “Good.” She looked up, startled. “I mean it – you were given it for a reason, even if we don’t know what that reason is yet and if you can use it to protect yourself, you should.”
“But I can’t control it!”
“You’ll learn to,” he counselled, “just give yourself some time. Keep practicing.”
“And while I’m learning, I’m dangerous – I didn’t want to hurt them, I just wanted to stop the van, push it off the road into the grass but it just went flying.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“I did it.” She countered. “How is it not my fault?”
“These guys blew up your house, kidnapped you, and when that didn’t work they tried to run you over. A lot of people would happily have killed them. You don’t owe any apologies for shoving them a little harder than you meant to.”
Mitchell was with Makepeace, in the tiny office the Marine colonel had been assigned but that he used even more infrequently than Jack used his when his cellphone began to vibrate in his pocket, his ring tone playing softly at first, then growing progressively louder as he took it out of his pocket and held it in one hand, debating whether or not to answer it with Makepeace standing three feet away.
“Who is it?” Makepeace demanded.
“It’s General Hammond.” Mitchell responded reluctantly.
“Then answer him.” The order was curt.
His conversation with Hammond was brief but even though he tried to keep his responses as vague and general as possible, he knew when he hung up that Makepeace knew exactly what had been said.
“Carter got away from our guys, didn’t she? Where is she? Cameron, I need to know. It’s important that we find her before she hurts someone with that ability of hers.”
“She’s with Colonel O’Neill, they’re going back to his house.”
Makepeace nodded, a slight, approving smile on his face. “Let’s go.”
Nobody questioned them as they made their way out of the base; why would they? Mitchell was a member of SG-1 and Makepeace had been one of the first officers assigned to an SG team. They were trusted, above suspicion.
Mitchell hadn’t been sure what to expect when Makepeace had shepherded him off the base and led him down a track away from Cheyenne Mountain towards the road but he definitely had not expected to find a sleek, black limousine waiting for them any more than he had expected Senator Kinsey to be there in person but he was wrong on both counts.
Kinsey’s expression was dark and dour, a far cry from the friendlier demeanour he had adopted when he had come to visit Mitchell at his apartment. His tone was cold when he ordered them to get into the car, and then barked the address at his chauffeur when Makepeace filled him in on Sam’s destination.
He didn’t say a word as he passed them both guns, slipping a third into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Sir, is this really necessary?” Mitchell protested, alarmed. “If we talk to her…”
“Talk?!” Kinsey spat the word out, glowering. “Son, the time for talking has been and gone. I tried to take her into custody, for her protection and everyone else’s and she put two of my best people in the hospital with about twenty broken bones between them. I’m not going to wait for her to come after me!”
“Why would she…”
“O’Neill’s been encouraging her to practice; he’ll put her up to it.” Kinsey ranted; seemingly unaware that he had an audience. “I’m not going to let that happen!”
“Sir, we’re approaching the address.” The chauffeur reported dutifully. His eyes were shielded from the glare of the sun by dark glasses that concealed his eyes and made his whole face look blank and expressionless. If his heavy, muscular build was any indication, he was a bodyguard as well as a chauffeur.
“Good. Find a quiet spot where we can wait for them. You boys better get ready.”
“Yes, sir.” Makepeace responded.
“What about Colonel O’Neill, Senator?” Mitchell asked.
Kinsey snorted. “Major, if he’s protecting that abomination, he’s already a lost cause. You are not to hesitate to use deadly force, am I making myself clear?” The car pulled up a discreet distance away from Jack’s house, parking in a shady spot.
“So, what, we just walk right up and shoot ‘em both?!”
Whatever outburst Kinsey was about to unleash was cut off by Makepeace. “Anything else gives Carter an opportunity to attack. We can’t afford to give her any opening.” As he said this he was screwing a suppressor onto his pistol. He opened the window and held the weapon at arms length, testing the sight alignment using Jack’s mailbox across the street. “Carter goes first,” he ordered. “Soon as they show up we get right up behind them. Back of the head.”
“We’re hitting them from two feet away,” Mitchell commented as the colonel drew his gun back inside, apparently satisfied that it was properly aligned, “and you’re still afraid you’re gonna miss?” The major’s anger had not dissipated in the slightest since his argument with Makepeace at the base, and with the situation having grown so much worse since then, he couldn’t resist baiting the other man.
“It’s called ‘attention to detail’, smart-ass.” Makepeace produced another suppressor and handed it to Mitchell.
They didn’t have long to wait before a car approached, pulling into Jack’s driveway.
“Let’s go,” Makepeace ordered, easing the door open and stepping out. Taking one last glance at the senator and deciding there was no way around this, Mitchell hesitantly followed.
Despite the heavy military issue boots they wore, neither man made a sound as they crept across the street and up the driveway. The only warning Jack and Sam got was a reflection in the small window by the front door when the porch light clicked on automatically. Both Jack and Sam turned and saw the two shooters. Neither of them had a chance to react.
Two rapid spits from the silenced weapons were followed by the sound of Makepeace howling like a wounded animal. He was writhing on the ground with a river of blood spurting from his ruined leg. His kneecap had been blown to pieces. His own shot had whizzed by Sam’s ear close enough for her to feel it pass, impacting the door with a dull thump. His gun lay forgotten on the ground beside him until Jack dashed forward and picked it up. Mitchell, his weapon trained at Makepeace’s face, had not seen Kinsey’s driver move to exit the car, drawing up an MP-5K. Before he had chance to set foot on the ground or even take aim, Jack fired twice, and the driver crumpled back into his seat.
Kinsey, who had sat frozen while this happened, seemed to come to his senses and attempted to exit the limo, apparently hoping to escape on foot. Amusing as Jack would have found it to see Kinsey trying to outrun him, he never got the chance. As if an invisible fist had punched him in the gut, Kinsey grunted in pain and surprise and stumbled, then squeaked, terrified, when he found himself being tossed back into the car. All the doors slammed shut and locked, and they could all hear the senator’s cries of horror as the limo was lifted off the ground, coming to a halt a good ten feet in the air, where it hung steadily on invisible strings.
“Nice!” Jack commented, and Sam allowed herself a satisfied smile at how easily she was able to hold the car. “You’re getting a lot better at this.” He complimented.
“Thanks, sir.” She winced slightly as the vehicle came to Earth with a heavy crash. The windows shattered, revealing an unconscious Kinsey slumped against the far door. “Landings could still use some work.”
Makepeace’s agonised howling subsided for him enough for him to register his surprise at what had just happened. “You shot me!” he yelped at Mitchell, who still stood over him with his pistol aimed straight at the older man’s right eye.
“Yeah,” he shrugged, smirking. “I feel bad about that.”
It had been General Hammond’s idea that her interview with the two agents be conducted at Cheyenne Mountain rather than at the local branch of NTAC but, while Sam agreed with him that it was better if the interview was on her turf rather than theirs, ensuring that they could not record it without her knowledge, the fact that they did not have the security clearance to be allowed down to the lower levels was raising a few red flags.
“What is it you do again, Captain?” Diana Skouris asked, her polite tone unable to disguise her suspicion.
“Deep space radar telemetry.” Sam repeated her cover story with a straight face, her eyes meeting Diana’s unwaveringly.
“And that’s above our security clearance.” Tom Baldwin looked as disbelieving as his colleague. “What could possibly...”
Sam shrugged innocently. “You’d be surprised.”
It was clear that she was unwilling and unable to say any more on the subject and, knowing better than to press her, Diana concentrated on the matter at hand. “Do you know who it was that abducted you, Captain?”
“I’m afraid not.” Sam’s lie was so convincing that even Jack would have been fooled, had he been present. “They didn’t exactly make formal introductions.”
“So you have no idea why you might have been targeted?”
“Aside from the obvious,” Sam demurred, deeply thankful that General Hammond had filled her in on the attacks that had been made on other 4400s over the past couple of days, “other 4400s have been targeted recently, haven’t they?”
“Not like you,” Diana countered immediately. “Most of the attacks took place in Seattle and were the work of the same two people. There were one or two others, but those attacks were intended to kill. You are the only 4400 who was abducted and, unlike the bombs rigged to kill other 4400s, the one that was set off in your house was a professional job. Any idea why you might have been singled out?”
‘Either the Tok’ra symbiote that died inside me or the fact that I can now move stuff with my mind, maybe both.’ Sam thought grimly before speaking aloud. “None.”
“In your statement, you said that you were able to get away from your captors and contact your superior officer,” Tom noted, skimming through her admittedly brief written statement.
“That’s right.”
“Could you elaborate on how?”
“I got lucky,” Sam was aware that the cover story she and Jack had concocted between them to explain her escape without mentioning her ability wasn’t the most convincing ever, but it had been the best they could come up with on such short notice. “The guy driving must have lost control of the van, he skidded off the road and crashed. The door opened and I got out of there as fast as I could.”
“Are you sure?” Diana pressed. “There mightn’t have been some other reason why the van crashed?”
Sam shook her head. “You’d have to ask the guy driving.” She responded, knowing that anyone working for Kinsey and the NID would be even less likely to come clean to NTAC about the reason behind her abduction than she was.
“We would, if that was an option.” Diana stated flatly. “Both men are dead; they were recovering nicely until a nurse on the evening rounds found their guards out cold and the men themselves each had a couple of .22s rattling around inside their skulls .” There was no mistaking the shock or the horror on Sam’s face, so she knew that the other woman hadn’t been responsible and that she hadn’t known of it before now, but there was still something in her eyes that suggested that this wasn’t a complete surprise to her.
There was definitely more to Samantha Carter than met the eye.
“Captain, are you aware that you are the only 4400 in the United States for whom special arrangements have been made regarding medical check-ups?” she asked, knowing that her chances of getting a straight answer were slim at best.
Before Sam could reply, a man standing in the doorway, a voice came from the doorway. Sam gave a slight start, as did the NTAC agents. Apparently they hadn’t noticed him entering, either.
“Given Captain Carter’s exemplary service record and the importance of her work in this facility, General Hammond was able to secure a concession from your Mr Ryland regarding her medical check-ups – with the President’s approval, of course.” The speaker, a mostly-bald man in a black suit, moved stiffly across the room and assumed the empty chair beside Sam’s. “She travels quite a lot between various facilities, and has quite a hectic schedule. Obviously, this makes it difficult to tell when she’ll be able to take time for her check-ups, but we do our best to stick to the dictated schedule and Dr Fraiser forwards the requested information and samples to NTAC.”
Skouris looked the newcomer up and down, while Sam waited for one of them to ask who the stranger was, thinking it would look somewhat amiss if she let them know that she herself had no idea who he was.
“Please tell me you’re not her lawyer,” said Baldwin.
“Not quite. Richard Woolsey, I’m with the NID. I was sent to take a statement from former Senator Kinsey, but he wasn’t feeling very chatty. Not that I blame him. Until a few hours ago, the Senator held a top-tier position with NID, and now I’m one of the runners for his job. Not that I’m very likely to get it; I don’t have the type of connections one generally requires for such work.”
“Then the Senator was involved,” Skouris cut in. It wasn’t a question. Sam wondered why they hadn’t brought it up before; a United States Senator arranging a 4400’s kidnapping wasn’t the kind of little detail you left for later. “There were a couple of eyewitnesses along Colonel O’Neill’s street, one of whom was pretty sure he saw Kinsey being carted into an ambulance.”
“Officially, Mr. Kinsey was the victim of a head-on collision with a tree after his driver suffered a seizure, and is currently being treated for a minor coronary crisis as a direct result,” Woolsey told them as simply as if he were reading from a script. “In a week or two, we’ll reveal that his medical condition inexplicably worsened. The autopsy report will reveal an exceedingly rare pre-existing heart condition that had previously gone unnoticed. The then-Senator lost his wife last year and has no other family, so it won’t be too difficult to arrange for an empty casket to be buried while Mr. Kinsey remains a guest of the United States Government. Obviously none of what you’ve just heard will leave this room,” he told them, his tone slamming home an unspoken ‘or else’.
Regaining composure after a moment, Tom asked Woolsey “Exactly what is the NID’s interest here? Apart from grabbing one of your own who went rogue, I mean.”
The look Woolsey gave the other man couldn’t have been more superior had he been an elementary school teacher lecturing an unruly child. “Consider, for just a moment, if you can, what little we know about the 4400. Seemingly plucked at random from various times and places, all returned to the same time and place, modern day America. Then we have reports of numerous 4400s developing apparent super-human abilities. And, the big one; they returned in a massive ball of light that came from outer space and Captain Carter just happens to be one of the foremost astrophysicists on the planet, currently studying deep space radar telemetry.”
He sat back in his chair and sighed a little, as if he had suddenly been relieved of a heavy burden. Sam’s guard had gone up the moment he had announced he was with NID, but now she almost felt like applauding his acting skills.
Diana was the first to recover from this second blow. “Are you saying you know what happened to the 4400?”
“Who took them?”
“And why?”
“I’m afraid we don’t know anything,” Woolsey told them sternly. “However, I can assure you that our suspicions are likely to be more informed than yours, and of course, far, far, above your security clearance.”
Glancing briefly at the clock above the door, Woolsey rose and made for the door. “I’m afraid it’s time for me to make my way to Andrew’s. I have a flight waiting. If you have any questions, you can reach me at the Pentagon, though I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to give you any answers. Good day.” The door clicked quietly behind him, leaving a somewhat stunned silence.
Eventually the agents managed to get back to the question, though both were somewhat dispirited, knowing they’d just run into what might very well be the mother of political brick walls.
“One last question,” Diana said after a few moments of silence. “Mr Woolsey mentioned that some of the 4400 have developed superhuman abilities – have you developed an ability, Captain?” The fact that a few of the other 4400s – including the eight year old girl living in her own apartment – had developed unusual abilities was highly classified but since Woolsey had already referred to it, she didn’t see any point in beating about the bush.
“None so far.”
“I see.” Diana studied her expression for a few moments, searching for outward signs of deceit but finding none. “In that case, thank you for your time, Captain. We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”
“That’s fine.” Sam agreed, shaking hands briefly with them both before nodding to the airman standing guard outside the door, indicating that he should escort the two agents to the surface.
Neither of them spoke until they were in their own car, exiting the parking lot.
“So,” Tom began, “do you think she was lying? About not knowing why she was kidnapped, I mean.”
“I know she was. That Woolsey guy barging in there playing Dumbledore to her Harry Potter wasn’t exactly a subtle warning.”
“Does that mean you’re gonna let this one go? She seems to have the Presidential seal of approval, and it’s pretty clear nobody wants us asking questions.”
“What’s your point?” If anything, Skouris seemed more determined than ever to know everything there was to know about Samantha Carter. And she had a pretty good idea of where to start. “NID gets more funding from the private sector than the government, right? Companies like Halliburton and Haspel Corp?”
“Almost every penny.” Tom didn’t like where this was going. “Why?”
“Remember what Ryland told us yesterday? With the word out on 4400 abilities, there are a lot of rumblings from big business hoping to turn a profit using 4400s. They’d already be handing out contracts like candy if they could be sure about the legality of trying to market 4400 abilities or use them in some other way that might give them one up on the competition. All it will take is for one 4400 to put their ability on the market. Thing is,” she grinned, “Ryland heard this directly from the horse’s mouth. He owns stock in Haspel Corp. Bought it for a pittance when they started up ten years ago.”
“Fair to assume he’s made a few friends in the company since then,” Tom mused. “And if any of Ryland’s friends have an interest in NID...”
“Ryland might be able to find out what everyone’s so desperate to keep from us.”
“I don’t know why you’re looking so smug,” Kinsey grumped. “You really think your little crisis of conscience will get you out of any jail time?”
“What crisis would that be?” Mitchell was only half-listening to Kinsey’s rant at this point. He stood in the open doorway to the former Senators’ cell, as he had been since he’d escorted Woolsey down almost an hour ago. “Granted, I considered whether or not it would be safer to put the bullet right in the middle of his face to prevent him from accidentally firing. An inch to the left and Carter would have lost an ear.”
“Maybe you should have just killed him. And me too. If you’d done that you might have been able to talk your way out of this. I promise you, son, by the end of the week you’ll be lucky to be scrubbing toilets in Antarctica - and that's the best case scenario. Chances are you’ll wind up in the same non-existent hell-hole they stick me into.
“I kinda doubt that,” Mitchell chuckled. “Not exactly quick on the uptake, are you Bob?”
Kinsey scowled at first, and then dropped his gaze, looking more disappointed in Mitchell than angry. ”You were playing me. From the beginning. You stupid ba…”
“Ah-ah!” Mitchell chided. “Do you want me to have to call my grandma in to wash your mouth out with soap?”
Kinsey looked beyond him to the woman standing near the doorway. “Believe me, Major, a day will come when you’re going to regret siding with… that ahead of me. This is only the beginning; they’re not through with us yet, not by a long shot. Abomination begets abomination.”
“That’s why we’re all happy you never had kids.”
Mitchell glanced over his shoulder. “Y’know, Captain, if you wanna Force-choke him, I won’t tell anybody.”
Sam raised a surprised eyebrow, ignoring Kinsey’s indignant spluttering. “You like ‘Star Wars’?”
He shrugged, grinning sheepishly. “Vader rocks.”
“You really think it’ll be as easy as that idiot Woolsey thinks to ‘disappear’ a United States Senator?” Kinsey cut in.
“These days,” Sam considered, “it just might be. People all around the world are already up to their necks in conspiracy theories about the 4400. Unpopular Senators already suspected of being involved with criminal organizations probably won’t get a hell of a lot of consideration.”
Kinsey paled a little, but his voice remained harsh. “What the hell are you talking about? I’ve never been implicated...”
“Turns out your colleagues have had you under investigation for the past few years. Something to do with a possible shadow organization within the NID. The Trust?” Sam didn’t even try to suppress her grin at Kinsey’s reaction to this news, and Mitchell barked a laugh. “Obviously, a lot of what they think you were involved in can never be revealed to the public, but if we let a few small details leak out, that’s our problem solved. Business deal gone bad, vengeful former associate. I’m sure the 4400 will show up among the best theories. Either way, that’s all anyone’s ever going to have. Theories.”
Flashing Kinsey one more nasty grin, Sam walked away, and heard Mitchell’s cheerful “Bye-bye, Bob” as he closed the door.
“Okay, that was fun.” He declared as they made their way to the commissary, where their teammates were waiting for them. He glanced at Sam as he held open the door for her. “Sorry about… y’know. I never expected Kinsey to go so far, so fast. When he showed up at my apartment, I figured that it’d be best to play along while he was there and then tell Colonel O’Neill.”
“You did the right thing.” She assured him, leading the way across the room to the rest of the team.
“…just don’t understand why you couldn’t tell us!” they could hear Daniel’s complaint before they reached SG-1’s customary table. “We were going through everyone’s phone and computer records with a fine tooth comb for hours,” he added, indicating himself and Teal’c, who, while he was not saying a word, was giving Jack a less than pleased frown. “You could have let us know that we were on a wild goose chase before you guys got back here with Kinsey and Makepeace!”
“What part of classified don’t you understand, Daniel?” Jack demanded impatiently, nodding a greeting to Sam and Mitchell as they took their seats and turning his attention to Sam. “How’d your interview go?”
“Fine, sir, especially after Woolsey showed up.”
“Did he tell you what Kinsey has to look forward to?” Jack asked, unable to keep a smirk from his face at the thought of being rid of the man who had been a thorn in the SGC’s side for the past seven years.
“I believe the term he used was ‘guest of the United States Government’. What’s going to happen to Colonel Makepeace?” She still found it difficult to believe that one of the longest-serving officers at the SGC had been working for Kinsey all this time.
“Well, for starters he’s not going to be a colonel any more.” Jack told her. “Woolsey offered him a deal; if he testifies against Kinsey and discloses everything he knows about the Trust and tells us what information he’s been feeding Kinsey over the years, he’ll be dishonorably discharged. If he doesn’t, he’s looking a jail time – and that’d be even less fun than usual for a guy with one leg.” It hadn’t taken long for Janet and Dr Warner to realize that there would be no saving Makepeace’s injured leg and Jack was far from sorry to hear it. “I’m thinking that he’s going to talk. Now do you see why this had to be kept classified?” He demanded of Daniel.
“Even from me, sir?” Sam asked, more than a little annoyed at having been kept out of the loop. A little warning that she was in danger of being kidnapped and having her house blown up, not to mention being shot by a colleague, would have been nice.
“I wanted to tell you,” Mitchell assured her quickly, “but Colonel O'Neill didn't want to worry you unless we had to.”
Jack couldn’t help flinching slightly at the reproachful frown Sam gave him. ‘Looks like I need to have a little chat with Mitchell about loyalty to his CO.’ He shot her his most winning smile, the one that had gotten him out of more trouble than he cared to admit in his younger days... at least until his Mom had developed an immunity to its charm. “Who wants blue jello?”
One week later
“Carter?” Jack shook his head ruefully when she didn’t even seem to register his presence. How writing a report could possibly be so engrossing, he had no idea. He never noticed that as she was sitting there watching the screen fill with text, none of the keys were moving. “Carter!”
“Sir?” Startled a little at his apparently sudden appearance, she jumped back a little, and the screen on her laptop flickered. “Sorry, sir.”
“Everyone’s going to lunch.” He nodded towards the door. “Come on, even you have to eat some time. Someday we might even catch you sleeping. And wouldn’t that be something!” He exclaimed brightly.
“I just want to finish this up first. I’m almost done. Five minutes?”
Jack shrugged. “Fair enough. In six, Teal’c’s coming down here with a Zat.”
“I’ll be ready for him.”
“No powers, Sam,” he warned sternly. “He deserves a fair fight.”
“But I can’t take him in a fair fight. What’s fair about that?!”
Grinning a little, Jack made for the door. “You now have four minutes!” he called over his shoulder.
Sam smiled as he left, then turned back to her computer, concentration showing clearly in her eyes. She watched the screen intently, and text again began appearing onscreen. After a few moments, as if at its own accord, the finished document saved, and the computer shut down. Rising to leave, she stopped at the door, telekinetically folded the laptop shut, and hit the light switch.
Highland Beach
“That's their car. Let's go.” Lytell ordered. Lytell himself screeched to a halt and hopped out of the driver’s seat.
“Now, listen,” Ryland warned him, “these are not criminals. They're two of our own. Keep your gun holstered. There's no cause for anybody to get hurt.”
Hearing their approach, Tom grabbed his son by the arm, shaking him slightly. “Kyle, they're coming for you. They're gonna want to take you away.”
“They’re too late.” His son’s tone was tranquil.
As Tom and Diana watched, Kyle looked upwards and gasped as a light began to emanate from his chest, bathing the whole shore in an unearthly glow. Moving on instinct, Tom dashed forward.
“Kyle!”
“No! Tom, don't!”
Neither man even heard Diana’s warning cry as they were both enveloped in a white light.
They were still standing on Highland Beach but it was no longer night. There was no sign of Diana, or of anyone else. They were alone.
“Kyle?”
“Tom.” His voice sounded like a chorus line, like a dozen people speaking in unison.
“You're not my son, are you?” How had he not realized it before now?
The being who wore his son’s face shook his head slightly by way of confirmation. “No. Kyle was meant to be a channel, a way to communicate.”
“Communicate with who?”
“With you.” The response was matter of fact. “To guide you in your dealings with the returnees. But something went wrong. Your nephew, Shawn interrupted the process.”
“That's what put him in a coma. He was like that for three years, because of you.” Tom said accusingly. “Who are you? What are you?”
“I'm human. Like you.”
“No. You're nothing like me.” He spat furiously.
“I come from a different time. That is all. Your future.”
“Is that where you took them? My nephew and all the others?” He asked disbelievingly. Although there had been plenty of theories about who had taken the 4400 and where they had been all this time, he was pretty sure that nobody had guessed this one.
“We needed them.”
“For what?”
“To survive.”
Diana wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. As soon as Tom had touched his son the pair had been surrounded by a cylinder of white light. She had nearly been knocked off her feet when she tried to touch it.
“Skouris. Skouris!” Ryland called as he jogged towards her, stopping dead in his tracks as he approached and got a close look at Tom and Kyle. “What the hell is going on?”
“Kyle brought us out here. It's like he knew it was going to happen.” She explained, half-surprised that she sounded so calm.
“Did you ever think that maybe he's not Kyle Baldwin?” Lytell demanded. “He kept claiming he wasn't. Maybe he's telling the truth.”
“Tom? Tom, are you all right?” Ryland approached warily, not daring to touch him.
“We can't just stand around, we've got to do something.” Lytell protested. “He could take Baldwin with him. Or kill him.”
“Hey!” Despite the fact that he was aware that Lytell’s mandate superseded his own authority, Ryland wasn’t planning on letting him run the show. “Nobody is gonna do anything until we know what's going on in there.”
“In my time, humanity is dying out.” ‘Kyle’ explained, his tone calm, utterly emotionless.
“You mean it's all going to end? Everything?”
‘Kyle’ nodded slightly. “Only those we took could prevent the catastrophe from happening. That's why they've been altered and seeded back into the timeline.”
“Why here? Why now?”
“Because history tells us this is where the path to oblivion began.”
“And the people you took are gonna stop that from happening?” He shook his head, unable to process half of what he was being told. “How?” He demanded.
“They've already begun their work. And you have begun yours.”
“Tom, come on.” Diana pleaded, willing her partner to hear her and snap out of it.
Lytell paced in front of them like a lion on the prowl. Behind him, Ryland noticed the other man’s right hand slip under his jacket, and heard a distinctive click. “Do something or I will.”
“I don't understand.” Tom protested. “What is their work? What are we supposed to do?”
“You have to help them.”
“Help them? How?” If the alternative was the end of the human race, Tom was open to suggestions, but answers weren’t forthcoming. “How?!” His eyes drifted to a red patch spreading out on ‘Kyle’s chest. “You’re bleeding.”
As the light faded, Tom and Kyle collapsed to the ground. Diana ran quickly towards them, and Tom turned and saw Ryland kicking Lytell’s feet out from under him and grabbing his gun. Gun?!
“Oh, God,” Skouris breathed. “Get an ambulance,” she called to Ryland. “Now!”
“Kyle!” Tom scooped his son into his arms. Pulling a small, folded knife from his pocket, he sliced open Kyle’s shirt, revealing the small, hemorrhaging wound. Diana slipped her hand under Kyle’s back and grimaced. She knew as soon as she felt the exit wound.
“Kyle!” Tom cried again. “Stay with me, Kyle! Kyle, look at me!” Kyle choked and spluttered, squeezing his father’s hand in his own. “Come on. Come on! No!”
The choking ceased suddenly, and Kyle’s grip on Tom’s hand slackened. He fell limp in his father’s arms.
Diane moved behind her partner, gingerly placing a hand on his shoulder. “Tom…”
Gasping suddenly, Kyle seemed to spring back to life and began convulsing wildly. Diana leapt back in fright, but Tom held his son tightly.
A brilliant white light erupted from Kyle’s chest, hovering over them briefly. Diana stood frozen as the light seemed almost to take shape. For a split second, she was certain it was looking right at her.
Just as suddenly as it had appeared, the light fled.
“Dad?”
“Kyle!” Tom exclaimed, halfway between laughing and crying.
“What are you doing here?” Kyle sat up, looking around him in confusion. “Where’s Shawn?”
“Kyle?” Now it was Tom’s turn to be confused.
Slightly worried now, Kyle scrambled shakily to his feet. “Um… Dad? I can explain about the beer.”
He clearly didn’t remember anything that had happened since the last time he’d been on Highland Beach with his cousin over three years ago.
“No!” Tom grabbed Kyle and hugged him tightly. “No, forget the beer. You don’t have anything to explain.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Diana finally managed to get out.
“Tom?” Ryland was coming back from his car. An unconscious Lytell lay forgotten on the damp sand. “Tom.” Diana felt a little bit better at noticing that her boss looked even more confused than she felt. “What did you see?”
Baldwin didn’t hear either one of them. “I got you, Kyle.”
It had been more than three years since his son had been found comatose on the beach, almost two weeks since he had regained consciousness, but it was only now that his son had finally been returned to him.