"Jack SG-10 is over due." General George Hammond said in a heavy voice as he acknowledged the arrival of his 2IC. This was not the way to start the week.
"How long?" Jack asked hands buried in his pants pockets staring at the glistening swirling circle of the event horizon.
"They’ve been planet side for five days. They’re thirty-six hours over due for their radio check in. We are trying to make radio contact with them now." The concern in Hammond’s voice palpable.
"Five days. That’s Mitch Tanton’s team isn’t it?" He knew the answer. This was all feeling so horribly familiar, like what happened to Henry Boyd and the first SG-10 team, dying in a black hole. "God, not again." He muttered under his breath. He glanced over his shoulder to see Teal’c.
"Sir we are getting something now. Switching to audio." said the tech at the controls.
"Jaffa came by cargo vessels. Caught us unaware (audio breaking up) second day (audio breaking up) . . . the others captured. They (audio breaking up) thought I was dead. (Audio breaking up) help . . . I don’t think they know about the gate but they may now. " Came the pain filled voice.
"That’s Lieutenant Arnie Grayson." Jack recognized the voice and the image of the freckled faced red-haired kid popped into his mind. They were getting so young.
"Colonel." Hammond started.
"Permission to lead a rescue team sir?"
"Granted. Take SG-3 and SG-5. Bring them back."
"Won’t have it any other way sir." Jack was on the run, Hammond was on the phone and Teal’c was headed for the armory for his staff weapon. This was going to be a military mission and it was convenient that Carter was lecturing at the Academy and Daniel was visiting Ernest and Katherine. He didn’t need either of them under foot or Daniel protesting any actions they would have to take to rescue their people. With each step he could feel himself slipping into his action mode, the tightening of muscles, the senses moving to a higher level of awareness. It was as easy to slip into as was his Omega vest.
Fully provisioned, in full camo and heavily armed, Colonel Makepeace and his Marines were waiting for O’Neill and Teal’c.
"Okay, it’s getting to be early evening on the planet. We’ve got the MALP going first. If we encounter no hostiles we go. We survey the situation and do what we can to get our people out without getting them killed. I want this clean and complete." Jack barked knowing keeping Makepeace and his Marines in check was not easy but they knew how to take orders.
"Colonel we are getting telemetry and visual from the planet now. No enemy within range."
"Could be a trap." Teal’c commented.
"Well, then let’s let the Marines take the point." Jack’s voice had taken on the gravelly quality it always did when he was back in full commando mode.
"Go! Go! Go! "Makepeace yelled pounding each man on the back as they ran through the event horizon. Jack and Teal’c took the rear. As soon as they got through the other side all took up a defensive position.
Jack signaled for them to head out but a groan from the base of the DHD caught his attention. He signaled for all to halt.
Arnie Grayson lay slumped at the base. His side was a mass of burnt flesh from a staff wound blast.
"Grayson?" Jack had the boy in his arm and was starting to assess the wounds.
"We had camp set up at the ruins . . . They came in cargo ships . . . Five of them. We tried to make it to the gate but. . ." The boy coughed up blood. "
"The Major thought if we couldn’t make it to the gate then we shouldn’t tip them off that there was one . . ." More blood bubbled up. "God, sir they shot at us. The Captain and Sarge they laid down a cover fire but they found us. I saw them taken. I got hit and . . ."
The boy’s eyes widened. He gasped and then his last precious breath of life was expelled in a torturous death groan. He had held out for nearly three days, bleeding to death, waiting for a rescue.
"Damn it!" Jack gently closed the boy’s eyes, and pulled off his tags.
"O’Neill." Teal’c was kneeling next to him.
"I know." Jack snapped back. He set the boy down and stepped back. They couldn’t risk opening the gate to send back the body. They had three more lives to save. There wasn’t time to bury the dead. Three shots of the Zat and the body disintegrated. No closure for the family he would have to write to, and another face to haunt him.
It was time for some recon. The payback would wait till it could be doled out effectively and with cold efficiency. The team of twelve proceeded on their mission silently, hand cues the only communication. This was what they did best. An armed pack of hunters they went in search of the Jaffa camp, prepared to destroy without prejudice, but only after they brought their people out safely.
The rise of the twin gibbous moons brought them to the rim of a box canyon. Extremely well defended by ten Jaffa and two cannon towers, the camp consisted of several tent like structures had been formed into a semi circle again facing to the mouth of the canyon. Behind them was a sheer cliff about forty feet high. There would be no repelling tonight.
There was a small stream that ran out of the canyon, forming from a thin water fall in the rock wall. It skirted one side of the canyon and enough brush to afford cover for a small advance team of one maybe two. Already they could see the design of some kind of device being built.
By the central fire was a small tent with two guards. Further back and away from the rest of the encampment was another smaller tent, no guard outside. A lone Jaffa unarmed and without his armor entered the tent. The sound of a distant laugh and then what O’Neill thought was a muffled scream came from within.
"Teal’c what do you make of it?" He whispered looking through his scope.
"It would appear they are preparing a Sel’ a Tec Za, a listening post of sorts. The device they are constructing will signal to their Goa’uld system lord if any activity takes place on this planet. It will only register technology that would be on an equal to the Tauri and higher. "
"Where are they keeping our people?" Jack was still focused on the small separate tent.
"It would be most likely the tent with the two guards."
"Why keep them alive?" Makepeace asked.
"Trophies for their masters."
‘Okay, we need Intel." Jack started.
Makepeace was signaling to one of his men.
"Not this time. I don’t need your gung ho types tromping through the woods." Jack was already slipping out of his Omega vest and jacket. Down to his black t-shirt he pulled out a bandana wrapped it around his silver hair and then went for the black out stick. He kept only his 9mm, commando knife and comm unit.
"Keep me in your sights if you can" He handed his P-90 to Teal’c with radio. "No chatter. Makepeace if all hell breaks loose get to the gate and bring reinforcements." He paused. "Teal’c what is that little tent off to the side?"
"It could possibly be a Shna ve’l kat, a place for recreation." There was a strange disgusted tone to his voice and he did not look O’Neill in the face.
"Well I hate to be the one to break up their game of Jaffa scrabble." O’Neill moved off into the darkness.
"Teal’c what didn’t you tell him?" Makepeace asked as the Colonel slipped into the undergrowth.
"The information would have only enraged him. This would possibly affect his ability to complete his mission." Teal’c was trying to detach himself from the realities.
"What are you not saying?"
"It is the practice to take females from the local inhabitants or utilize captives to serve the needs of the Jaffa. It is regrettable that Captain Ivanova is female."
Makepeace was disgusted. He remembered the conditions in Bosnia with women forced into brothels and used violently by the armies. "Damn a good thing Jack doesn’t know."
Teal’c was hopeful that O’Neill had not guessed.
In the woods leading down into the canyon O’Neill’s thoughts were only of stealth. Each movement, each step planned instinct, training took over. Once down on the canyon floor he utilized the sound of the stream to cover his movements. The Jaffa camp seemed to be unusually relaxed, perhaps over confident in its lack of sentries but then again it was set up to face a large advanced force in a head on from the mouth of the canyon, not one man.
What was the old saying about one running man could slice a thousand throats in one night? While the number had been considerably lower, he had done it before, he could do it again.
He watched the movements of the Jaffa, determined which tent was used for what. He couldn’t determine the correct number. He could only guess at twenty-five, maybe thirty. This would be maybe just within acceptable odds, but the two tower cannons definitely skewed the odds in the Jaffa’s favor. He and SG 3 and 5 did however, have the element of surprise.
In the hour he had been surveying the camp he had seen two more Jaffa, at separate intervals, enter the small tent and emerge after more than twenty minutes. Currently there was no one in the tent. He made his way to it. There was a wall facing the back of the canyon that was out of visual range. He pulled out his thin tube like periscope and inserted it into a slit he made in the tent wall a table a chair what appeared to be a bottle of some kind of drink and goblets were to the left. On the other side of the tent was a pallet of what looked like furs. Huddled in the middle her back against the wall was Captain Ivanova. She was curled up in a fetal position her hands tucked up against her chest and dressed in only shreds of her T-shirt. He couldn’t see her face as it was down against her chest.
He took the risk and moved to the tent wall beside her. He lifted it up enough to slip in.
"Captain." He whispered taking the chance to get as close to her as possible. On one knee he reached out for her gently touching her shoulder . . . She was mumbling, perhaps praying under her breath.
"Captain." He whispered again. At first she didn’t react then her head came off her knees. She turned her face toward the sound. It took her a moment to focus the one eye that was not swollen shut. She tried to pull away from him.
"Ivanova."
"Colonel O’Neill?" She gasped through swollen lips as she recognized him.
The bile rose to O’Neill’s throat as he realized now what Teal’c had meant by recreation.
"Status?"
"Maintain Life, Maintain honor, return." She whispered still having a hard time focusing.
O’Neill’s throat tightened. The Captain had quoted the Survival Triangle taught to all Air Force personnel, the goals of the survival mission.
"We’re going to get you out of here."
"Fifty Jaffa, haven’t met them all yet . . . "She tried to offer him a sick smile. "We took out a handful of them before they . . ." She coughed weakly. "Some kind of listening post to be done in three more days then their system lord shows up in the mother ship." She coughed and ran the tip of her tongue over parched lips. "Ran out of ammo, Sir couldn’t stop them. Arnie?" When O’Neill failed to answer she knew. She tried to stifle a sob. "The Major and Sarge are in another tent. Both hurt but . . ." She stopped, listening to movement outside but the footsteps continued past.
O’Neill was pressing his luck staying. He marveled at her composure but he had to know more. "Captain?"
"Sir, in the morning most of them are working on that device, just a couple at the tower and two on the prisoners."
"No guards here?"
"No, that’s when the night watch takes their turn at me."
"Can you handle a weapon?"
"Negative." With this she slowly and painfully revealed her hands. It was obvious that they were broken probably the wrists and several fingers too.
"Can you hang in there?"
*"If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy." Ivanova recited her head falling back against the tent wall. She offered O’Neill a smile as a tear spilled silently down her face.
O’Neill cupped the side of her face. "No one get’s left behind."
More footsteps outside. "Go sir. I got company."
O’Neill made it outside of the tent in time. He heard the Jaffa enter and the Captain’s grunt of pain. The next sounds were unmistakable. His hand was on his knife he could slit one throat now but. It tore like a chainsaw through his gut to know freeing the Captain would alert the others. He slunk back into the woods, vomited bile as quietly as possible. Two clicks on his comm. unit signaled his return. Makepeace and Teal’c were waiting for him. Jack shot Teal’c an evil look. He began to draw a diagram in the dirt.
"Okay, we got to get them out. There are less than fifty. The Jaffa not working or on guard are in these tents. We can get in through this tent here. There are no guards and never more than one Jaffa in it. We’ll use it as a staging point. From here we spread out, plant c4 at every tent and the cannons. "
"Two of my men can get in from here and plant the c4 on the cannons." Makepeace pointed to two places on the dirt map.
"Teal’c take two more and get the Major and Sergeant out. "
Teal’c nodded.
"We take out every Jaffa we can as quietly as we can. Head back with the two men through this tent. If all hell breaks loose Makepeace you and me and the rest will lay down cover and set off the charges."
"Then we high tail it back here and dial up the gate." Makepeace finished.
"Snatch and grab." Jack reminded. "We go at 0330."
Makepeace smiled and went off to brief his men. When he was out of earshot O’Neill turned on Teal’c grabbing him by the vest and snarled into his face.
"Do you know what they are doing to Captain Ivanova?" Do You?" He demanded.
"Regretfully, yes, O’Neill, I was aware of the possibility."
"Jesus Teal’c! Why didn’t you tell me?"
"I was not entirely sure." Teal’c lied and O’Neill sensed it.
"They’ve broken her hands."
"To prevent her escaping or defending herself." Teal’c stated evenly, but his throat constricted with guilt.
"Son of a bitch." O’Neill walked away hating everything that Teal’c had once been. He was unable to separate the old Teal’c from the Teal’c who had been fighting at his side for these past years. He had two hours to get over it.
********
The time approached and the combined teams of SG-3 & 5, O’Neill and Teal’c began their covert mission. This is what they were trained for. They only thought of the surgical extrication of their comrades.
O’Neill took point retracing his steps. Finally, ahead of them he came to the back of the single tent. Once again he uses his pencil thin periscope. For a brief moment Ivanova was alone, and then a Jaffa came in. He grabbed her roughly lifting her by one arm off the ground and then tossed her face down on the sleeping pallet. He was on her roughly, his sheer weight pinning her down.
"If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available." She began to moan as the rape began.
"Kree!" The Jaffa snapped slapping her in the back of the head.
O’Neill couldn’t take it one minute longer. He rolled in under the tent and had his knee in the Jaffa’s back his knife out. The hot blood gushed over Ivanova’s naked back as O’Neill’s knife slit the Jaffa’s throat. He rolled the body off her.
"I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy." She finished, not moving.
"We’re getting you back." He whispered to her. "I need you to stay focused."
"Sir, yes, sir." She whispered curling into a ball. "I can’t . . ."
Jack understood and gently pulled her up into a sitting position. She was naked now and maintaining honor was a part of the survival triangle. He pulled off the Jaffa’s jerkin and helped her into it. It gave her the illusion of propriety. Next he slipped back to the tent wall and gave the signal for the others to disburse to their assignments.
Teal’c and two of SG-3 were already heading to the back of the prisoner tent and more of Makepeace‘s men were crawling on their bellies to place the c-4.
Three more of the remaining seven came into the tent and then slid into the darkness.
Another Jaffa entered the tent and quickly was dispatched by Makepeace. His body fell nearly on top of Ivanova who whimpered and tried to move away. Jack placed his hand over her mouth. He could tell she was close to if not already over the brink.
"Maintain life, maintain honor, return." He whispered to her, she relaxed somewhat and nodded.
Teal’c slipped in under the flap and a nod of his bald pate explained everything. It would be only minutes before the guards would realize their charges were gone. It would have to be enough time to make it back into the woods.
Makepeace signaled the rest to slip back out of the tent. Jack and Ivanova were the last out. He slit the back of the tent enough to half carry her out. Barefoot she was going to be a liability but he held onto her, if she stumbled he picked her up before she could fall. They were half way back to their original staging area when the hell that had been expected happened. The Jaffa were scrambling like a disturbed ant hill. The cannons began to shoot indiscriminately into the woods.
"Hit em!" Jack barked out and Makepeace began to hit the detonators. The tents, towers and Jaffa blew skywards. The black night was illuminated by yellow and white columns of fiery destruction.
There would be survivors so the twelve rescuers now with the three remaining members of SG-10, continued at a steady pace toward the Stargate. No time for celebration until they reached the other side of the wormhole.
Ivanova was in worse shape than O’Neill knew. She had internal bleeding and was in shock. The only thing that kept her going was her recitation of the Code of Conduct. Together as they continued to the gate he recited it with her hoping it would give her the comfort of companionship. He began remembering too well how he had chanted it over and over to himself for four months in Iraq.
*****
Back at the SGC Hammond was waiting for the Stargate to be activated. Daniel, recently returned had heard the news of the rescue mission and was now standing with Hammond.
Daniel had a particular interest in SG-10. Captain Nikita Ivanova had been his unofficial assistant for the last three months. When she had been reassigned, he had discovered that she was somewhat of a linguist. She could speak and read Russian, Latin, and Hebrew. She also had more than a passing knowledge of Sanskrit, Akadian and Egyptian Hieroglyphics.
She had blushed when she had informed him that her parents were both Professors of Near East studies who had escaped Russia with her when she was just a baby. They taught her everything they knew. Poor refuges that they were the Air Force offered her a way to get her education paid for. She had dreams of going into space.
The Air Force was not going to make her an astronaut. It identified and nurtured her uncanny ability to interpret photo recon. She was assigned to the National Reconnaissance Office a joint agency with the CIA that had been nearly as secret as the Stargate program. Only recently the agency’s existence had even been acknowledged, her work still too classified to discuss involved the interpretation of spy satellite Intel.
Kita, as she liked to be called, was pretty with large almond-shaped eyes the color of pewter, and black hair. She was unpretentious to the point of being almost invisible. Her humor was twisted in a way Jack would enjoy; however, in their few encounters Kita has been so military in his presence, at perpetual attention that there could be no true interaction. Much was the pity, for had she felt comfortable around Jack she had an ability to explain complex ideas in terms simplistic without being insulting.
Sam liked her and they discussed application of satellite and deep space telemetry. Again she was reserved with Sam and rarely stepped into a casual interaction. Kita seemed to keep everyone at arm’s length.
He had recommended her for SG-10. Now he felt responsible and his heart had plunged into a well of despair when he returned and learned of the rescue mission.
The Stargate activated.
"It’s SG-3's code sir, they are requesting a medical team on standby." The Sergeant commented looking at the event horizon.
Daniel, while anxious for the safe return of the team, also felt a finger of fear run up his spine. It was the Jack O’Neill that would come back through the gate that caused this chill. The special ops, commando Jack was different from the Jack who ate Fruit Loops and got confused when Carter or he launched into some scientific explanation. The warrior that Jack could become was awesome in his calculated single mindedness to complete the mission and fearsome in the depth of the cold dangerous deadly ability to do so. The rare glimpses of this side of Jack shook Daniel to the core of his pacifist nature.
Makepeace and Teal’c with the ambulatory but weakened Major Mitchell Tanton and Sergeant Sam Morrison came through first. Both showed signs of beatings, were dehydrated and exhausted. Their injuries amounted to nothing that a few bandages, a hot meal or two and sleep wouldn’t fix. The rest of SG-3 and SG-5 came through next. O’Neill and Captain Ivanova were last.
The sight of her was gutting wrenching. Without O’Neill holding her up Ivanova would be incapable of standing on her own. Beaten and bloody her mangled hands clutched close to her chest she was staring intently at O’Neill. It was as if through his concerned look and by locking her gaze into his brown eyes she was deriving enough strength to continue. Both were talking.
Daniel and Hammond were at the bottom of the ramp, Daniel starting to rush up to help but Jack waved him off. Still, they both continued to speak to each other.
"Come on Captain Number six say it with me." Jack urged and prompted her with the first few words" I will never forget that I am an American fighting man."
"Responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free." Her knees buckled and she leaned back against him whimpering at the site of the security detail.
"Finish it Captain." Jack ordered while it seemed cruel it made her focus back on him.
"I will trust in my God and in the United States of America." Finished her head sunk against his shoulder.
‘Good girl." Jack whispered only loud enough for her to hear. "We’re back."
"Maintain life. Maintain honor. Return." The last traces of resistance vanished.
Three medical techs rushed up the ramp and the Captain held out her hands against her face.
"Stand down." Jack growled. He held her closer and stepped down to the gurney they had waiting for her relinquishing his hold on her only to Dr. Janet Fraiser.
"Captain it’s okay, we got you now." Janet soothed.
Ivanova looked at Jack. He nodded and she let herself be gently laid down on the gurney.
"Colonel?" Hammond asked, his one word question a request for a quick summary.
"We got them out and destroyed the Jaffa base for some kind of listening station telemetry thing. Lt. Grayson didn’t make it." Jack was staring at his commanding officer, the coiled rattlesnake of his anger ready to strike.
"Kita, I mean Captain Ivanova . . . what happened to her?" Daniel asked naively.
"Ask Teal’c." Jack snarled sharply.
"Good work Colonel. We will debrief in two hours."
"Yes, sir." Jack looked away from both of them and stalked off.
"General, what were Jack and Kita reciting?"
"That was the Code of Conduct, son. And, I think it’s about time you read it. Come with me to my office." Hammond was irritated with how civilian Daniel could be. He took two deep breaths and reminded himself that this was a good opportunity to educate the archeologist. It might give him an insight into the military mind, spirit and the dedication of its personnel.
*****
While the rescue teams showered, changed, and began writing out their reports, Dr. Janet Fraiser was rushing one of the rescued into emergency surgery: Ivanova had arrested on the way to the infirmary. A lung collapsed was inflated and a ruptured spleen removed. Blood was pumped in and when stabilized they began the x-rays of her upper extremities. Two broken wrists and several bones broken in each hand, along with two fingers were the least of her injuries. Casting would heal them, no surgical reductions were necessary, but what worried Janet most was the psychological damage. It was obvious Ivanova had been raped, repeatedly, over her several days of captivity.
This was going to be a hard report to make. The rest of the team, both men, had refused to leave the infirmary till they saw her in recovery. Janet had beds made for them for twenty four-hour observation.
*********
Jack stood under the hot shower hoping it would wash away the stench of death and blood. The steam rising around him eased muscles but not memories. It was amazing how the body never forgot and the brain was so good at remembering. He flinched as his body remembered the jolts of electricity from the jumper cables attached to a car battery jammed into him, and the beatings. And over and over again he remembered chanting the Code of Conduct and the simple mantra of "Maintain life, Maintain honor and return."
Jack roughly rubbed his body dry as if to sand away the scars and visions of his nightmares. Dressed again he made eye contact with no one till he entered the briefing room. Makepeace, Teal’c, Hammond and Daniel were there. Daniel tipped his head back and looked at Jack through the bottoms of his glasses in a deep appraising manner then looked down quickly as if uncomfortable with him. Teal’c looked searchingly into O’Neill’s face and only looked away when he was sure the Colonel had seen the sadness and regret in his eyes.
Jack let Makepeace lead the debriefing, filling in the details when he could. Makepeace had been sensitive enough to not provide the details of Ivanova’s captivity. Janet arrived as the briefing ended to inform them of the condition of the surviving members of the SG-10.
"Dismissed." Hammond ordered Teal’c and Makepeace left. Daniel had sensed the tension between Jack and him from the start and lingered after.
"Colonel, the Captain her condition . . ." Janet started.
Jack buried his face in his hands and shook his head. He then pulled them away slapping the top of the table. "The Jaffa broke her hands so she couldn’t fight or escape. They used her for their recreation," disgust evident in his voice.
Janet swallowed hard, Hammond clenched his hands.
"You mean they raped her?" Daniel blurted.
"Repeatedly Daniel, for more than three days they assaulted her over and over again. She was the only game in town. Seems this is a little practice that we were not made privy too," bridled anger in Jack’s voice as he galvanized the young scientist in his seat..
Daniel cowered and adjusted his glasses nervously.
"Colonel I’m not sure how she is going to come out of this but she seemed to have focused on you. I could see this when you came through the gate. You might be able to help her through this." Janet said, trying to maintain a professional detachment.
Jack shook his silvered head and sighed. He was uniquely qualified to help but could he?
"Yeah, I know Doc."
Janet gathered up her medical report and nodded for Daniel to follow her out. He took the hint, leaving Jack and Hammond alone.
"Jack, I know that this could be painful for you . . ."
"I don’t leave my people behind General. I am not going to let a good officer die on that backwater planet physically or mentally." With a voice full of pained determination Jack acknowledged his CO’s intent.
Hammond was sure that his 2IC would accomplish his mission but the price was going to be high. Jack’s ghosts would rise from their graves. He could already see the harbinger of the haunting, in the set of the jaw and the darkening of his eyes. Jack had slipped away from him, distancing himself in preparation and self protection. The demons had never been exorcized and now he was being asked to dance with them again to help another.
Too often Jack was made to pay the price, yet, Hammond’s 2IC was always the first to pick up the check.
**********
She woke to dull throbbing pain. Pain meant you were alive. Lifting heavy eyelids, she began to focus on one object at a time, forcing herself to recognize each. Cement block walls, not tent walls, florescent lights from the ceiling, an IV stand to her left side, a heart monitor, and all objects in the infirmary. The infirmary at the SGC, not quite home but the closest thing she had known since she had left the NRO.
There was another memory slipping back, strong arms around her helping her walk, keeping her going. Concerned umber eyes letting her drink deep from the strength contained there. Whom did they belong to? How did she get here? A face suddenly appeared to her wearing blackout paint. For a brief second she thought she had been rescued by Al Jolson. It almost made her laugh but the movement caused new aches.
"We’re getting you back." She remembered the voice and dredged up the recognition. Colonel O’Neill, his voice, his arms around her; his encouraging; his recitations with her, kept her going; brought her home. She didn’t know if she should love him like a savior or hate him for letting her live.
Why was she alive?
Why should she be alive?
Why should Arnie be dead?
Why wasn’t it her instead?
She had failed him.
Looking at her own body she saw the casts on both wrists and two fingers were splinted. Wiggling the digits only caused a slow lava flow of pain up her arms. There was an IV needle taped to the inside of her elbow, plasma and what looked like a unit of whole blood.
Surgery? Had they operated on her? No clear cut memory of that only the sensation of laying on the gurney and watching the overhead lights flying by. Then there was the sudden stillness. There was no breathing, moaning, heartbeat, or pain just a stillness wrapped with a coolness like the first crisp hint of winter in an autumn breeze, embracing her.
Why had they brought her back?
Ivanova had been ready to shuffle off this mortal coil and perchance never to dream again. her mission over, failed. With agonizing slowness she lifted up her right arm and extended it over her chest to the IV. Bruised fingers clamped onto the tubing and tugged. The needle pulled out of her vein and swung off the side of the bed dripping vital fluids on the concrete. As the last reserve of strength left her, she succumbed to the darkness of her despair, detaching herself from the world of pain and grief.
"Oh God!" Daniel stammered as he walked into the Kita’s room and saw the pool of blood forming next to her bed. "Janet! Janet!" He ran from the room and grabbed Janet who was hovering over Major Tanton.
Without question Janet rushed with Daniel to Kita’s room.
"Shit." She spat and pulled out her stethoscope checking Ivanova’s vitals.
"But doesn’t she need the . . ." Daniel stammered pointing at the IV’s.
"If she is strong enough to do this, no. But I am afraid we are going to have to put her on suicide watch. Even with two broken wrists I’m going to have to restrain her. "
"No, Doc. No restraints." Jack had just stepped into the doorway when Janet completed her sentence. He remembered the feel of being strapped down, fighting to be free, straps cutting into the wrist. Strapping her down, confining her, making her a prisoner again was not going to be the way to bring her out.
"What do you suggest Colonel?"
"She needs a couple days," he sank his hands into his pockets. "Just a couple days to get used to be being back, safe." The way he spoke it softly, distantly as if remembering, which he was, pinched both Janet and Daniel.
They were helpless to provide comfort to their indefatigable friend, for he had no need or the capacity to accept. He was not aware of the minute glimpse of Jack the hidden burden he had let slip though the bulwark of his self defense mechanisms.
He turned and left them with their private thoughts, thoughts of two wounded friends; one walking away bearing scars in silence, the other laying in a bed longing to die.
***********
Three days later, her interactions, even with her teammates were perfunctory. Kita had no will to live; it had been drained away with lack of desire or knowledge of how to regain it. Despite her withdrawal Kita was improving
SG-1 had returned from a quick visit with the Tok’ra and was getting their post mission physical. Teal’c had carefully avoided any encounters with Captain Ivanova still suffering from guilt. Jack had gotten over his initial negative reaction as he was made to recognize that his own military had a few skeletons that had burst free from their closets.
"How is Ivanova doing?" He asked Janet as she cleared him and he pulled his shirt back on.
"Not good. She is barely responsive." Janet sighed.
"Maybe I should talk to her?" Daniel suggested.
"Or me, maybe, woman to woman, officer to officer." Sam offered.
"No, to both of you." Jack nixed it quickly, perhaps with too much sharpness.
"But sir?" Carter protested.
"Carter, unless you have been used in the same way she has, and Jolinar’s memories aren’t the same, Ivanova isn’t going to listen to you," O’Neill was intentionally cruel. "Give me a few minutes with her alone?" His voice softened as he asked Janet.
He walked to the private room that had become Ivanova’s new prison. She was sitting up in bed. Her two arms propped up on pillows staring vacantly at the ceiling.
"Ivanova?" Jack said in a firm questioning manner as he stood at the foot of her bed. No reaction. "Captain Ivanova." That time it was an order.
Ivanova fixed her attention on him.
"You are back in the SGC. Doc has fixed you up. You’re going to be okay."
"It’s not that simple." To her dismay, her voice broke slightly.
"Yes, it is." Jack ripped out the words impatiently.
"Because you say so? Why didn’t you just . . . It should have been me." She stammered, the tenuous grip on composure slipping from her broken fingers.
"Enough of that self pity crap, Captain! You did what you had to do."
"Begging the Colonel’s pardon," her voice raspy, sudden anger lighting her eyes. "But fuck you!" Her gray eyes raked him like talons. "Fuck off."
"No! Fuck you Captain!" His anger became a scalding fury not caring if he hurt her.
Carter and Daniel tried to lurch into the room but Janet stopped them. She knew this had to play out.
"That’s right Captain, fuck you. That’s what they did to you, your body, but not your mind or your soul. It was just your body."
"What the hell would you know about it?" She threw the words at him like hand grenades.
"I’m not a woman, I’ve never been raped or used the way you were, but I know about pain, torture and hell on earth." The contempt in her eyes challenged him. He took up the gauntlet. "I was a guest of the Iraqis for four months in 91’. Four months out of my life." He replied with a contempt that forbade any further argument.
Silence covered the room like an avalanche. The monitors even seemed to whisper in muted fear.
"Captain, it was your body. Don’t let them rape your mind, your soul too."
"Sir, yes, Sir." Her voice still carried a wrapping of anger.
"Good get angry. Direct it at me if you want but let it out!" Jack continued. "Damn it Captain, all the bullshit second guessing and hind sight, what if’s are not going to bring back Lt. Grayson or change what happened to you. You completed your Survival Mission. You maintained life, maintained honor and returned."
"I couldn’t help them and Andy is dead. I was responsible for him. I didn’t escape."
"Captain, they broke your hands."
"They wanted the iris codes. They never stopped asking, each one before . . . he would try to make a bargain, the codes or be . . ." Kita said, her throat aching with defeat.
Jack sat down on the bed next to her. "Kita, I’m not going to lie to you." He had to pause to gather his own demons. "You’re going to have nightmares. You are going to wake up at night, that is when you’re finally able to sleep, and you’ll scream your throat raw and your sheets with be wet with sweat and piss." A sudden frost hung on the edge of his words. "You’ll never forget, ever."
Kita choked back a sob, but the dam had been breached. The tears began. She was overwhelmed by the magnitude of her agony and despair.
"But you’re alive. They’re dead. You won. Captain, without the intel you provided me we could have incurred casualties and not been able to bring SG-10 back. You never gave up. Don’t give up now. You maintained the Code."
Recognizing the fragility of the moment, carefully Jack took the young Captain in his arms letting her cry. He could feel her shaking in his arms, breaking, yet she barely uttered a sound. Jack was envious of her tears and too familiar with the silent sorrow.
"Captain it was a privilege to rescue you." Jack said with quiet emphasis.
Kita slowly began to recover, her tears subsiding. Jack was t still unaware, nor did he care who had witnessed the exchange. He did what he had to do, what others couldn’t, he had to bring back another one of his kid’s home.
She’d taken the first steps on a long road. He wouldn’t name it "the road to recovery" for there would be no full recovery. There could be coping, dealing with and suppressing. The pain could be channeled in other directions and turned into a positive force. Hatred could be strength.
"That which does not kill me makes me stronger." Kita stated softly.
"Bullshit." He whispered back. They both laughed weakly.
Jack knew now that Ivanova was the survivor he had pegged her for. He’d be there for her if she needed him if it was just to have a cup a coffee and a bowl of Fruit Loops. They wouldn’t even have to talk about anything specific, just draw strength from each other. He felt suddenly at terms with his own nightmares. It was a fragile truce and Jack clung to it for his sake and the sake of those who depended on him.
Daniel and Carter slipped unnoticed out of the infirmary, too overwhelmed by the revelation to even discuss it with each other. Janet sunk her hands deep into her lab coat pockets, driving a thumbnail into the palm of her hand to stave off the tears.
**********
Epilogue
Three months had passed. Captain Ivanova had recovered and became an integral part of her team, SG-10 and an asset to Daniel. At first she had been treated with kid gloves, especially by members of SG-3 and SG-5 who had been involved in her rescue. They were happy to see that their survivor was soldiering on. Somehow it also seemed to break her rigid shell of military formality. After what she had been through many things seemed less significant and she began to no longer take herself as seriously.
Jack recognized it for what it was a coping mechanism, not unlike his own. Talk a lot but never about self. Never reveal, never be too intimate. Name rank and service number was sufficient even to those called friends. The rest were on a "need to know" basis.
********
SG-1 was preparing for their next mission but they were one short. Daniel was involved in a dig and was passing this one up.
"Colonel, Dr. Jackson has recommended a substitute." Hammond announced in the gate room.
Jack immediately rolled his eyes with visions of a Rothman type in mind. The large metal doors slid open and in walked their fourth.
"Captain Ivanova!" Jack was pleasantly surprised.
"Colonel, Major, Master Teal’c." She acknowledged politely adjusting her ball cap.
O’Neill looked around, a playful glint in his eyes.
"Captain Ivanova." He called out in his best commanding officer voice. Ivanova snapped to attention like a cadet. "Are you going tell your CO to fuck off again?"
Hammond sputtered, Carter gasped, the security team snickered, and Teal’c raised a single eyebrow.
"Only after begging the Colonel’s pardon if it is so warranted. Sir, Yes, Sir." Ivanova snapped crisply.
"I like your attitude Airman," He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, the two of them smiling with their private joke. Turning back to his team, he said. "Well it looks like boy girl, boy girl. Teal’c, Carter." He gestured toward the event horizon.
Both took the hint and went up the ramp.
"How are the hands?" Jack’s voice was thick with sincere concern his hand still on her shoulder.
"Oh, you know sir, bad days, worse nights, got a handle on it." Ivanova gave his an honest half smile, tilting her head to the side slightly.
"All you can hope for Captain." He smiled reassuringly. They both knew he wasn’t asking about her wrists.
Together they walked up the ramp and stepped through the event horizon reciting in unison.
"Maintain life. Maintain honor. Return."
The End
Please read on for the copy of the U.S. Fighting Man’s Code of Conduct as quoted in this piece.
Please any and all feedback to kdthree@core.com
The Following is the Actual Code of Conduct as found in the reprint of the Department of the Air Force Field Manual AF Regulation 64-4
U.S. FIGHTING MAN’S
CODE OF CONDUCT
I
I am an American fighting man. I serve in the forces which guard my country and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense.
II
I will never surrender of my own free will. If in command I will never surrender my men while they still have the means to resist.
III
If I am captured, I will continue to resist by all means available, I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy.
IV
If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners. I will give no information or take part in any actions which might be harmful to my comrades. If I am senior, I will take command. If not, I will obey the lawful orders of those appointed over me and will back them up in every way.
V
When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service number, and date of birth. I will evade answering further questions to the utmost of my ability. I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to their cause.
VI
I will never forget that I am an American fighting man, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which made my country free. I will trust in my God and in the United States of America.
© January 2004 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and back story are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.