Challenge #410
Okay, thought I'd give it a whirl and see what you great writers come up with, <G>. The fic has to include three things:

1. Jack whumping, mental and physical.
2. The other members of SG-1 can only know half of the problem which increases Jack angst <G>.
3. General Hammond is to blame and the others have to feel like an ass for treating Jack so badly. <G>

It can be anywhere you like the location is up to you, earth, some galaxy far far far away..... But those three things have to be incorporated in some way, Jack angst abound!

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General George Hammond sat in his office deep in the bowels of Cheyenne Mountain, tackling the stack of mail piled on his desk. Thank God it was Friday. The General had planned a weekend of relaxing with a good book and hopefully a couple rounds of golf. Sipping the lukewarm coffee, his growling stomach reminded him it was almost time for lunch. Well, he might as well open the letter in his hand. The others could wait till after lunch. The waiting sandwiches were immediately forgotten, his full attention directed at the simple message, written in bold black letters on the plain white paper.

            HI GEORGE. I'M BACK. I WILL NOT FAIL THIS TIME.

That was it. No signature, nothing. General Hammond carefully examined the envelope, looking for any clue at all, but he found nothing. Leaning back in his chair, he searched his memory. Who could have done this? He sighed. Like O'Neill, he had a dark history. Many missions, official and unofficial. Classified of course. He had probably made more enemies than his 2IC. Although a couple of names popped up in his mind, he had absolutely no idea who had sent him this.

As much as he hated it, Hammond would have to wait for the unknown person to make his next move. He hated waiting ... hated being on the defensive. Refilling the coffee cup, he pondered the situation, weighing his options. Would the anonymous author come after him personally? Did he have access to the facility? The lack of a postmark would suggest that possibility. Was it someone he'd offended or reprimanded severely enough to push an unstable mind over the edge? He decided to order a security sweep of the base. It was a standard exercise and wouldn't raise any unnecessary suspicion. It also might be better if he stayed in the mountain for the time being. He could easily use the backlog of work that seemed to grow larger with each mission as an excuse. So much for his relaxing weekend. Grabbing the phone, he initiated the security sweep before giving into his hunger and, shoving the letter into his desk drawer, made his way to the commissary.

The members of SG-1, the best off world exploration team of the SGC, gathered in the office of Dr. Daniel Jackson to make plans for their weekend off. Too many missions too close together without down time had taken their toll on all of them.

Major Samantha Carter, Sam to her friends, suggested they should get together for a barbecue on the following night. She thought they all needed a little relaxation time together after their last emotional crisis, with the Colonel going undercover to catch a traitor stealing alien technology from their allies. On this particular mission, Colonel O'Neill had not been allowed to fill them in and in the process of playing his assigned role had made them all feel less than trustworthy. They hadn't gotten together outside the SGC since that time. The truth was everyone was still a little uncomfortable with the situation. Teal'c didn't seem to have any problem with it but that didn't surprise her. Like her, he understood the often unpleasant aspect of military life. Daniel on the other hand was having a difficult time coming to terms with whatever had passed between him and his friend at Jack's house. The archaeologist was the most compassionate and forgiving person Sam had ever met and while she knew he understood and had forgiven O'Neill's actions, he was having a hard time forgetting. Carter couldn't imagine what the Colonel could have said to bring about the withdrawal she'd seen taking place in Daniel each time he was near the soldier.

Sam too, had been upset with her CO. If she was going to be honest with herself, he'd made her feel like a complete and utter fool for falling for the charade in the first place, but her professional attitude made it easier for her to understand his actions. An observant person, she hadn't failed to notice the Colonel was also having a hard time getting back to normal. He seemed to be going through a major guilt trip, not quite sure how to make things up to his team. Not that he really needed to. He had only been following orders, had done what was necessary to protect Earth's alliance with the Asgard, Tollen and Nox. The barbecue was exactly what SG-1 needed to start rebuilding their relationships.

As usual, O'Neill offered his house for the party, secretly pleased Sam had suggested it. They definitely needed to spend some time together, outside the mountain. It would open opportunities to talk, to clear the air and get things back on track. Not that he was much of a talker, burying his emotions deep inside himself, but Jack knew this time, it wasn't something that could be avoided.

"My place?" he glanced at the others for confirmation, knowing the answer before he asked the question. "Daniel, you bring the beer. Domestic, instead of that imported stuff you always want me to try okay? ... Please? Major, the salad is your department and Teal'c you can ... just bring yourself. I'll take care of the hamburgers and hotdogs. Sounds good?"

"Sounds great, Sir." Sam nodded.

Receiving nods of agreement from his other team members, Jack made a quick exit only to have Daniel chase after him. "Jack! Wait a minute!"

With a weary sigh, the colonel turned and watched the approaching archaeologist and linguist of SG-1. "Did I forget something?"

"No." Daniel shook his head, glancing around to make sure the wrong person didn't overhear them. "Remember, Sam's birthday is Tuesday. The party's been arranged like we discussed but I was wondering what we were going to get her for a present."

"Jeez Danny, how the hell should I know?" Exasperated, Jack threw his hand in the air. "What do women like? What do astrophysicists like? Can't we leave this to Janet?"

Daniel thought about it for a minute. Maybe asking Janet wasn't such a bad idea. He had no idea what Sam would like. He'd never really had anyone to buy presents for besides Sha're and there wasn't exactly a mall he could run out to on Abydos. "Would you talk to her about it?"

"Yeah, Daniel. I'll ask her." Turning to leave, Jack stifled a grin, knowing Daniel avoided the infirmary at all costs. He seemed to spend enough time there after missions. Looking back, he added, "... and Daniel, try and get some rest tonight instead of studying some rock. Don't want you falling asleep at the party." With that comment, Jack pressed the elevator button for the top level, tossing the younger man another wave as the doors slid shut.

General Hammond looked up from the report in his hand as the airman knocked on the door, motioning him to enter.

Stepping into the office, the airman snapped to attention, his salute sharp and precise.

"At Ease, Sergeant. Good evening. "

"Evening, Sir." The sergeant stepped forward, placing a white envelope on the desk. "Sorry to disturb you, Sir. This was left at the main entrance for you. The man asked it to be delivered as soon as possible."

Hammond looked at the envelope. He should be surprised. He wasn't. "Thank you, Sergeant. Have a nice evening. Dismissed." He stopped the man at the door. "Sergeant, did you see the man who dropped this off?"

"No, Sir. That would be Lt. Andrews. I was checking over the invoices for several pieces of lab equipment, Sir."

"Thank you." The general waited until the door had closed behind the airman before removing the white paper from the envelope. This time, it said:

            GETTING NERVOUS, GEORGE? WATCH YOUR BACK!

Damn. Somebody was messing with him, big time. He was glad he had taken some precautions on the base. The security team had declared the area safe, so there was no threat ... yet. But the man obviously had some military access; otherwise he wouldn't have been able to deliver this envelope to the mountain.

Security, right. Cameras, that's it. Cameras were guarding the entrance of Cheyenne Mountain. He had to look at the tapes. He didn't want to alarm anyone yet, not before he knew what he was up against.

Half an hour later he had managed to get the tapes without anybody asking too many questions. He locked himself into his office and started to watch them. Ten minutes later he found what he was looking for. An airforce Major approached the front desk. General Hammond tried to catch the man's face, but he was obviously aware of the cameras. He managed to keep his face out of view. The General watched as the man handed over his envelope, talking briefly to the guard behind the desk. Damn. There was just no way he could recognize him.

Now what? He put the tape back in the box and settled back in his chair, thinking.

Jack parked his car. He was glad to be home. He had spent too much time at the base for his liking. A nice evening settled on his couch, with a bottle of his favourite beer and a hockey-game on TV sounded like music to his ears. He locked his car and walked over to his house.

Opening the door, his eyes were drawn to a glimpse of white on the floor. Surprised, he grabbed it, using his foot to push the door closed behind him. Turning on a nearby light, he opened the envelope, removing a sheet of plain white paper. There was a small short message neatly printed on it.

            GEORGE KNOWS I LOVE A GOOD CHALLENGE AND YOU'RE IT.

The Colonel carefully looked around him, trying to spot any signs of danger. He grabbed his weapon, ready for anything. He examined his front door. No one seemed to have messed with it, but he knew from experience there were more ways to get access to a building without leaving traces. He started to scan every room in his house. It was empty. All the windows were closed. He sighed in relief; he was positive that he was alone.

Now he had some time to think. It sounded logical to call the General. Right, too logical. Jack looked at his phone. It was on his desk. The light of his answering machine was flickering; somebody had left him a message. He kneeled in front of his desk, crawled under it and found a bunch of explosives, taped securely under his desk.

"Cute." He said to himself. Studying the bomb closely, he saw how it was attached to his phone. It would of course have exploded when he picked up the receiver. Thank God for instincts. Jack got up and sighed heavily; he could forget about his nice quiet evening on the couch. He searched his house again, this time looking for more explosives. He took no chances and it took him more than an hour. Afterwards, he felt pretty sure that there were no more surprises waiting for him.

Now Jack gathered the equipment he needed. He crawled under the desk again, carefully keeping his weapon within reach. Disarming the bomb took him almost thirty minutes. He wiped the drops of sweat on his face away. "Sweet. What else have you planned for me?"

He pressed the play-button on his answering machine. A raspy voice spoke. "Found my surprise, now did you? You did not disappoint me." That was all. Jack thought about his next move. He could call the General. He could also get in his car and go see him in person. His car was safe. He had driven it over here, right? Unless somebody messed with it while he was busy. Well, he had to talk to the good old General anyway and it would probably be no conversation to hold over the phone. Jack took the little tape out of his answering machine, gathered all the bomb-parts for further investigation, grabbed his jacket and headed to the door.

Scanning the surroundings of his house through the window, he opened his front door and stepped outside, ready to react to any kind of action. Nothing happened. He closed his door, locked it and walked over to his car, still looking out for any movement around him. Nothing moved an inch without him noticing it. He reached his car. He examined the locks on the doors, scanned the inside of his car and finally crawled underneath it to check that out too. He found nothing amiss.

"Come on, where are you?" he softly spoke to himself, still expecting this guy to show up any minute. Every muscle in his body was tense, his nerves on the edge. Although he had been in situations like this on a frequent basis during his time in black ops, he was not really used to it anymore. He was pleased though when he realized he hadn't lost the touch completely. He could still trust his instincts, they were up and running at 100%. From previous experiences, Jack knew one single mistake could be fatal.

Jack unlocked his car and slowly opened the door, listening carefully. No clicks, no ticking; so far, so good. Throwing his jacket on the backseat, he stepped in and immediately looked under the steering wheel. There was nothing. He buckled up, started the engine and drove off, unaware of the sweat drops on his forehead.

Holding the wheel in one hand, Jack took his cell phone in the other and dialled the base. "This is Colonel O'Neill. Is the General still there?" He waited for the answer and added, "when he is about to leave, stop him. Tell him I'm on my way, I need to talk to him." He hung up and concentrated on his driving, eyes not only on the road but also taking in the surroundings.

Thank God for instincts. He registered a flash coming out of the woods and responded immediately. Slamming his foot hard on the brakes he threw the Jeep into second gear, steered to the other side of the road and ducked at the same time. Unfortunately, the bullet was fast too. It broke its way through the front window of Jack's car and still grazed his left arm. The shock made him loose control over the vehicle long enough for it to crash against a tree. Jack hit his head on the dashboard and blacked out, his last thought being: 'SHIT!'

General Hammond grabbed his phone as it rang. "Hammond." He answered it abruptly.

"George. I thought you would like to know I just shot your 2IC off the road."

Hearing the voice immediately brought his memory back. He jumped to his feet, his free hand clenched. Eyes wide with fear, he yelled "Dave! You son-of-a-bitch! I should have known it was you."

He heard the other man laughing out loud. "You hadn't figure that out yet? God, you disappoint me, George!" Dave kept laughing. "He was good, George. Didn't fall for the bomb. Disarmed it. You know how I love a challenge. Unfortunately, he didn't move fast enough when I shot him.... Have a nice weekend. Remember: I will be back, like I promised!" With that sarcastic remark the connection was broken, leaving the General cursing out loud. He should have known!

General Hammond wasted no more time. He dialled the infirmary, the office of Doctor Fraiser. "Doctor, grab your bag and meet me in the elevator one minute ago!" Hammond smashed the phone back on its place. Damn! He should have known, he should have known! What the hell had he been thinking! He should have known! Oh, God, Jack! The thought of his Second being shot was almost unbearable.

Hammond grabbed his coat, rushed towards the elevator and got in. When he stopped it on the level of the infirmary, a very stunned Doctor Fraiser got in. She immediately noticed the haunted look in the General's eyes. "Sir! What happened?" she needed to know.

"Colonel O'Neill has been shot," was all the General told her, looking desperately at the display which showed the level they just passed. The long climb to the surface with the elevator took way too much time. He waited impatiently, switching his balance from one leg to the other and back again. "Come on, come on..." he muttered. Finally reaching the top floor he stepped out of the elevator the second the doors slid open. He ran towards the entrance, Doctor Fraiser on his heels.

"General, Sir!" the airman behind the desk called out to him. "Colonel O'Neill is on his way, he needs to talk to you!"

"I know! I'm on my way to him!" the General yelled over his shoulder, not slowing down a bit.

"Sir!" Janet Fraiser was barely able to keep up with the older man. "My car is over here." She pointed with her hand and was glad the General understood and followed her. She unlocked it, threw her bag on the backseat, jumped in and started the engine. The General hardly had time to close the door. "Where to, Sir?" she asked, already passing the main entrance.

"He was on his way to the base. So to his house, I think." The General was struggling with the seatbelts and was finally able to buckle himself up. He looked at his CMO, knowing he needed to fill her in. "I got a phone call from an old acquaintance. He killed my team back in the sixties.... Now he tells me he shot the Colonel off the road...." His voice faded.

Janet Fraiser inhaled sharply. "Oh my... did he say..." she didn't finish her sentence.

"No. The man was a terrific shooter, but the Colonel has good reflexes. At least, let's hope so." The General thought about what Dave had told him. The Colonel had disarmed a bomb. That means he was expecting trouble. So maybe... "There!" he yelled, pointing at the car up ahead, on the left side of the road.

Janet Fraiser held her breath at the sight of the car, smashed against a tree. She pulled over and jumped out of the car, grabbing her bag along the way. The General was already on the drivers' side of the Colonel's car, opening the door. Doctor Fraiser opened the passenger's door. The Colonel was lying on his right side, on the passenger's seat. Janet quickly placed her fingers on his neck and was relieved to find a strong and steady pulse. "He's alive, Sir," she informed the General.

Her trained eyes took stock of the amount of blood that was still dripping from the Colonel's left arm. She took out her penlight and tested his eyes. Nothing wrong there. She ran her fingers over his head, searching for a bump. She found it, but it was not too bad. She sighed heavily. Her tensed nerves slowly relaxed. The Colonel was in much better shape than she had feared. "Thank God for your fast reflexes, Colonel," she whispered. She was vaguely aware of General Hammond letting go the breath he was holding.

Janet took out some gauze, pressing it slightly against the wound on the Colonel's arm. She could barely reach it, standing on her tiptoes already. "We need to get him out of the car, Sir," she stated. Knowing she would not be able to lift the heavy man, she decided to try to wake him up. She gently shook him by his shoulders. "Colonel, wake up please!"

She was rewarded by a deep moan. The Colonel started to stir and soon after that, he opened his eyes. He looked puzzled at her for a minute, then struggled to sit up.

"Easy, Sir," Janet Fraiser said, trying to support him where she could. She climbed on her knees on the passenger's seat to do so. The General gave him a hand from the other side and soon, the Colonel was sitting up. He leaned back in the driver's seat.

"Nice friend you have, Sir. Permission to hunt the asshole down and kill him, Sir?" Jack ran his right hand slightly through his hair, looking for the sore spot where his head had hit the dashboard. He rubbed it. The General smiled briefly at him.

"Granted. But first things first. You think you can come out of the car? Doctor Fraiser needs to look at that arm, Son."

Jack got out of the car, swaying unsteadily on his feet. The General supported him, gently lowering him to the ground beside the Jeep. Leaning back against his car, Jack brushed his hand through his hair, sighing deeply. Janet knelt beside him and ripped his sleeve off. She was relieved to find the bullet had only grazed his upper arm. Grabbing her med kit, she cleaned the wound and bandaged it.

"All set, Sir. You were lucky. How do you feel?"

"Pissed." Came the short reply. That brought a smile on Janet's face. She knew him well enough that she didn't have to pull out some painkillers for him right now. He would probably be offended. She made a mental note to check back later as she stowed her equipment back in its bag.

Jack looked directly at the General now. "Mind filling me in, Sir?" he asked.

The General nodded. "Let's get back to the base." He motioned them to follow him. Janet Fraiser walked back to the Colonel's car and grabbed his jacket. She draped it over his shoulders. Then, they all got in her car and she drove them back to the Mountain.

Back in the trees, Dave was watching the scene through his binoculars. The Colonel had survived the shooting. Good. He was not mad, he was thrilled. It would be a shame if this game ended so soon. What a challenge this was!

"We will meet again, Colonel. Soon, real soon." He spoke out loud.

He had also recognized his old friend, a little bit older, a little bit balder, but still looking like how he remembered him. They would meet real soon, after he was finished with the Colonel. Dave put his binoculars away and hiked back through the woods, to where he had parked his car. He started the engine and left.

While they were waiting in the elevator, General Hammond looked at Doctor Fraiser. "I would appreciate it if this whole mess stays between us."

Not daring to ask questions, Janet nodded. "Yes, Sir. I will need you to back me up for leaving the base, though." She turned to Colonel O'Neill. "I'm off for the weekend. Could you stop by my house tomorrow afternoon? I'll need to check your arm and change that bandage by then."

"I will. Thanks, Janet."  Jack stepped out of the elevator to let her pass. After that, they were on their way to the General's office. The General arranged some beer for the both of them and sat down behind his desk, not noticing the frown on Jack's face. His Commanding Officer managed to amaze him sometimes, who would have thought he would drink beer on base? Jack settled in a chair, waiting for the General to explain the whole situation.

Hammond sighed and stared at the wall.  "His name is Dave. Captain David Moser. I was a Lieutenant then, his Second. We were ordered to take out some targets in 'Nam back in '69. Moser made a deal with the devil and was about to sacrifice his team. I didn't know about him trading sides and I was lucky enough to safe us all. Got promoted as a result of that, got command over my own team which kind of pissed him off..."

Jack rolled his eyes. "No kidding!" He wondered about the details of the mission. The General had never opened up about his past. Of course, neither had Jack with his team.

"At that time, I still didn't know about his deceit. On one mission in Beirut, he showed up. At first, I didn't know it was Moser. He blew up my youngest officer. He shot another. He kidnapped my Second under my nose and made sure I knew who he was...." Hammond's voice faded. Not having the strength to continue, he kept staring at the wall.

Jack studied the man in front of him. He could imagine the impact of what he had just heard all too well. Disastrous missions from the past; he had plenty of them in his own memory.

"Sir? What happened to your Second?" he just had to know.

"... I found him two days later. He was ... cut up really bad.... He ... didn't make it either." the General answered with barely audible voice. He finished his beer in one sip and slammed the bottle back on his desk in frustration.

Jack pulled a face and said nothing. Damned, that must have been hard.  He knew the results of traumatic events like that. The General would probably still have nightmares about it. After a while, Jack broke the silence. "What happened next? Did he keep score?" Having had experience with lunatics himself, Jack knew a little of what to expect.

"He was convicted of treachery, for third-degree murder. Fired. Sentenced lifetime to prison in absentia. He never set a foot on American ground again and disappeared."

"You have never heard of him again?" Jack guessed.

"No. Until today." General Hammond grabbed the letters from his drawer and handed them over to Jack.

Jack studied them closely. "Just like the one on the floor in my hallway," he concluded. He wondered about their next move. Obviously, he was the next target. He could live with that, but how about the rest of the SGC? How could they possibly protect everyone from a lunatic?

"Who do you think he is after, Sir? Just me?"

The General nodded slightly. "For now," he said, rubbing his temples with the heels of his hands. "He won't stop until he has finished the job. You are the perfect game for him. After that, I think he will come after me. He threatened to kill me one-day back in Beirut. I'm sorry, Jack." The General didn't know what else to say.

Jack thought for a second. "Why didn't he finish the job while I was out cold in my car?"

The General threw his hands in the air. "What challenge would that be, Jack? He loves a good challenge. He loves to hunt. Go figure."

"Ah..." Jack nodded. "We should hire him and send him after Heru'ur."

The General smiled a little, but his smile didn't last long. "I can't do this anymore, Jack. I'm too old for this shit. I also have nothing to fight for anymore. I just don't want to drag you down with me..."

"Oh, come on, George. Don't go there. Do you really think I believe that? This is your life. The SGC, the entire project. You LOVE it and you know it. So you better fight for it. We'll catch this idiot and we will all live happily ever after." With that remark, Jack got to his feet. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to dig a little in the computer. See what we've got on our friend."

The General, still haunted by visions of his other 2IC being sliced to pieces, watched him leave and murmured: "I hope so, Jack. I hope so."

It was almost 4:30 in the morning when Jack was finally satisfied with the information the computer had come up with. He rubbed his aching head, wincing as the wound on his arm protested at the movement. Turning the computer off, he yawned deeply; he probably could sleep for days. Grabbing the printouts, he left the room and headed to see the General.

"I've got something Sir," he said, stepping into the office. The General still sat behind his desk, as though he hadn't moved since Jack had left him. Hammond looked up at him, surprised the Colonel was still awake.

"He came to America four months ago, under the name Jim Cummings. I've got three addresses that are registered under that name. They are all located in this State. There are also two warehouses connected to him that we could check out. I was able to track him down after he disappeared in Beirut. He has spent a couple of years in 'Nam, another couple of years in Japan. Last known address was in Brazil. For the record: he is a highest-level trained air force officer who learned a couple of Eastern fighting tricks along the way. Not somebody you'll want on your tail, Sir."

It surprised the General his Second had been able to come up with so much information. Obviously he still had some connections from his time in Black Ops. He took the offered printouts and was well aware of the exhausted features of the man in front of him. "Good job, Colonel. Thank you. We'll talk about our next move tomorrow. I want you to head to your quarters and go to sleep. You look like you need it." When the Colonel was about to protest, he added firmly "That's an order, Colonel. Maybe you have already forgotten it, but you WERE shot today. If you don't get any rest, you'll be in no condition to stand up to this guy. Go, Jack. Get some sleep."

"Yes, Sir." With a quick salute, Jack left and headed to his quarters. He was fast asleep, before his head even reached the pillow.

When Jack opened his eyes after a couple of hours of good sleep, it was 02:30 in the afternoon already. Although his arm hindered his movements, it didn't take him long to get dressed. He decided not to eat in the commissary, he would pick something up on his way to Janet Fraiser's house. He could use the rest of the afternoon to check out one of the addresses of Jim Cummings.

Before leaving the base, Jack knocked on the General's door, but found it unanswered. Jack thought for a second. If he left a note, there was a small chance that somebody else would read it and would start asking questions. The General had been clear he didn't want anybody else involved, so the Colonel did not want to risk that. He decided to call the General later to fill him in.

At 5 o'clock in the evening, Major Samantha Carter knocked on the door of her CO. Dressed in blue jeans and a plain black T-shirt, she carried a cooler filled with salads for the barbecue. She had also taken the effort to bake a pumpkin pie for dessert. She was really looking forward to this evening, although a little bit nervous. She hoped everybody would be relaxed and happy to be together again, maybe even be ready to talk about the past few months.

When the Colonel didn't answer his door, she was not immediately worried. He had probably run to the store to get something for the barbecue. She walked into his backyard and started to unload her stuff on the picnic table.

About ten minutes later, she heard a car pulling up the driveway and soon she recognized the voices of Daniel and Teal'c. Teal'c carried the beer and Daniel knocked on the door. She walked around to the front.

"Hi, guys! It's good to see you. The Colonel is not here yet, probably forgot the hamburgers. You know him. Come on, make yourselves comfortable." While she led the way, Daniel and Teal'c followed.

Daniel shivered, looking briefly over his shoulders. "I'm still uncomfortable with this house. I'm sorry. The last time I was here he told me our friendship was all fake...."

Sam looked at him, not knowing how to respond to that. Teal'c said: "He did not mean that, Daniel Jackson. You should know that."

"Yeah, I know now. But it still hurts, you know? He sounded so real, so cold; how could I NOT believe it?"

"Oh, Daniel. If you didn't believe it, neither would the traitors. The house was bugged!" Sam pleaded. "The Colonel just had to be very convincing. He only did his job!"

Daniel snorted. "His job, right. How could I forget that?"

All fell silent at the young man's outburst. Daniel's soft voice broke the silence. "He said some things to you too, Sam. You were pretty upset, if I remember correctly. Can you forgive him that easily, by telling yourself it was his job?"

Sam looked at the grass. Softly, she spoke. "Not easily, Daniel, not easily. But I do know now, that he didn't mean what he said. That he had to do it. So there is nothing to forgive."

Daniel looked her in the eye and just shook his head. He couldn't believe it. Sure, Jack was doing his job, but it still hurt. It would still take him some time to get over it. He looked at his watch. It was almost 05:30 and there was still no sign of Jack. "Shopping doesn't take that long, does it?" he wondered, "Jack should have been here by now. Or is he too scared to face us?"

Throwing a reproachful look at Daniel, Sam grabbed her cell phone and dialled the Colonel's cell phone number. He didn't answer it. "Hmm, that's strange. Maybe I should try the base." She dialled the Mountain Complex and asked the guard on duty: "Sergeant, this is Major Carter speaking. I was wondering, is Colonel O'Neill on the base?"

She waited patiently for him to check the records. "Thank you. No, I don't want to leave him a message. Thanks again." She hung up and looked surprised at her team-mates. "He apparently slept on the base last night and left around three this afternoon. I thought he went home last night?"

"He did. Just after we all agreed to this barbecue. Why would he have returned to the base?" Daniel asked, frowning.

"Maybe O'Neill forgot something." Teal'c suggested.

"Jack only seems to forget about US lately." Daniel grumbled.

"Daniel! Don't say that. He probably had something important to do." Sam tried to defend her CO.

"Important? More important than us? Come on, Sam. We agreed to have a barbecue tonight. I arranged the beer, you the salads. You even took the time to bake something, didn't you? Yet, here we are, waiting for Jack and you're telling me he has something more important to do?" Daniel sounded really angry now.

"I am positive, O'Neill has a logical explanation." Teal'c stated.

"Well, I'm hungry. Why don't we leave Jack a note, pick up some burgers ourselves and start the barbecue at my house." Daniel suggested.

Sam hesitated. "I would like to wait a little longer. Maybe the closest stores were running out of hotdogs or something." She tried to call her CO again, but he still did not answer it. "Maybe he left his phone in the house." Daniel didn't look convinced. "Come on, Daniel. Let's give him a chance, will yea? If he doesn't show up within the next thirty minutes, we'll go to your place. Deal?"

Daniel nodded. He sat down, his back resting against the house, knees bent, arms crossed around them. They waited, but O'Neill didn't show. They waited a little longer, but no sign of the Colonel. Finally, they agreed to leave. Sam wrote a message for him and shoved it under his door. Disappointed, she followed Daniel and Teal'c to their cars.

Colonel O'Neill had visited one of the three addresses he had dug up on the computer. This address belonged to an apartment, located in a huge condominium, on the twelfth floor. His target didn't use it anymore; an old lady rented it two weeks ago and had just moved in. She had been very nice to him, offering him a cup of tea and some cookies. She told him she had never seen the person who lived in the apartment before she moved in, so she obviously couldn't help him.

The second address was an old brick house, with dusty windows and a broken mailbox in the front yard. A fresh paintjob would do no harm to the place and the lawn definitely needed to be mowed.  Although it looked deserted, the Colonel took no chances and drove by, scanning the area around the house. It was a big property; the neighbours lived some distance from the house. Finding his way around it, Jack discovered that there was a small forest behind the backyard of the house. He found a parking spot on the other side of the woods. There was an open spot on his right side, with a huge picnic table and a black spot on the ground obviously caused by campfires. All the signs were telling him that families gathering for picnics used this place.

Locking his car, Jack hiked through the woods, finding his way easily to the house. The backyard contained a barn on the right side and a vegetable garden on the left. A fire pit was located near the vegetable garden, with a pot hanging above it on three tied sticks, probably to make maple syrup. Behind the barn, invisible from the front of the house, two old vehicles were parked. The first was an old grey Plymouth with a black tarp over the front. The second car, closest to him, was a blue Chrysler.

Studying the house carefully, Jack could not tell if anyone was home. Dark curtains covered the windows, the chairs on the deck had no pillows on them and the table on the deck was empty. He could detect no signs of life. Taking in every detail and locking it in his memory, the Special Ops trained soldier knew he would be able to reach the house unnoticed and without stumbling over something in the dark. For now, he decided to stay where he was.

His patience was rewarded sometime before dark. Jack noticed some movement in the house. The backdoor opened and a man, dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt, appeared on the deck. The man closed the door behind him and walked over to the cars behind the barn. Taking his keys out of his pocket, he opened the left door of the blue Chrysler, started the engine and drove off the property.

Jack had examined the man the best he could, without giving himself away. The man's movements had been athletic and smooth; his posture belonging to somebody who took time for workouts instead of eating too many hotdogs. According to the estimated age of the man, this could be the well-trained ex-soldier he was looking for. Unfortunately, Jack had been too far away to really study the man's face.

Not knowing how long the man would be gone, SG-1's CO made his decision easily. If this was the person he was looking for, the chances of somebody else being in the house were very small. He carefully approached the house, using all the cover he could along the way. Without trouble, he reached the deck and simply knocked on the back door. He was not surprised when no one answered it. Unlocking the door without leaving a trace of tampering was a piece of cake for him; two minutes later he stood in the small living room.

The living room was a big mess. There were empty cans of pop and beer on the table, on the couch and on the floor. There was also a bowl with left over potato chips on a side table, with a jar of "ONE-HELLUVA-DIP" beside it. Parts of newspapers and advertisements were left on the couch and floor. Finding nothing of interest in the living room, Jack quickly scanned the kitchen. The smell of left over food and the pile of unwashed dishes made his stomach turn. He entered another room, which was used as an office. There was a small wooden desk with a computer and telephone on it. Jack ran the paper, sticking out of the printer, through his fingers. Underneath the desk he found the trash basket. Quickly looking in it, he found his proof. Bingo! A piece of white paper, with bold black letters, similar to the message he had found in his house yesterday. Jack thought for a second, threw it back in the basket and made sure, he left no traces. However, he deliberately took the receiver off the hook and left it beside the phone. That would give old-Dave something to think about! Satisfied, Jack left the house the same way he had entered it and headed back to his car.

The Colonel took the same road back; he wanted to take another look at the house from the front. It was almost 7 o'clock and growing dusk. When he approached the house, he saw that Moser had returned; he had parked his car on his driveway and just walked towards the mailbox. Without hesitation, Jack pulled over, opened the window of his car on the passenger's side and called the man. "Excuse me, Sir. I'm looking for the Simpsons's residence. Do they live on this road?"

If Moser was shocked at all, he managed to control himself very well. Absolutely no emotion showed on his face as he glanced at Jack for a second.  Nonchalant, he shrugged his shoulders slightly, responding: "Don't know them, Mister. Sorry!" Without giving Jack another look, Moser opened his mailbox and grabbed his mail.

Satisfied that he now had a face belonging to the name Dave Moser, a face he would not forget anytime soon, Jack answered: "That's okay. Thanks anyway!" and drove off.  Looking in his mirrors, he saw Moser get into his car and drive it to the back of the house.

Janet Fraiser was worried. Well, to be totally honest, she was more than worried; she was terrified. Knowing they were facing another SG-1-inspired crisis, probably again without the consent of at least three-quarter of the team. She sighed heavily. This was great, just great.

The last couple of months had been too much for the team and for her too. First they almost lost the Colonel on Edora. She could still remember the rest of the team struggling so very hard to figure out how to get him back. She could still see the disappointment written on their faces, when Colonel O'Neill hadn't reacted the way they expected he would. Janet had never quite understood why the Colonel reacted the way he did and she had failed to talk to him about it. Somehow, it had become another closed chapter in his life.

To make matters worse, the Colonel had been forced to go on an undercover mission without being able to fill in his team. Protecting his cover, he had made them believe he was planning to take command of a second SGC off world without them. Janet had played the role of physician and psychologist that time. She still remembered her little discussion with Daniel. God, he was so upset. Pissed off, disappointed and hurt. Although she had given it her best shot, she hadn't been able to get through to him, to make him see the necessity of the Colonel's actions. This was the first time Janet truly regretted that Daniel was not military. It made it so damned hard.

She also had had a crying Major at her front door, but Sam WAS military. It had taken some time, but Janet felt she had at least achieved something with her. Sam's major problem lay not in forgiving her CO, oh no. Sam needed to forgive herself. Janet knew it would take time for SG-1 to heal, to regain their trust in each other, their respect for each other. She was confident that they would, but she also knew it wouldn't be easy. Especially with Daniel...

So this situation with this guy from the General's past was not exactly what they needed. Damn, damn damn! Janet was surprised that O'Neill had actually shown up this afternoon. She had checked his wound over and had placed a fresh bandage on it; it was healing nicely. She'd asked him about this whole mess and he'd explained the situation shortly to her. Without him telling her, she knew he would go after this guy. No way Jack O'Neill would sit back and wait for this sicko's next move, she knew him too damn well for that. She didn't know what made her more uncomfortable; the fact that he was chasing this man or the fact that he had to do this once again without telling his team. The General had been clear on that. Damn him. She was SO going to have a little talk to him about this. How could the General put the team through this again? How could he do this, to his Executive Officer? The man deserved some peace, for crying out loud. Oh, dear, she definitely spent too much time on base...

Janet poured herself some coffee and walked outside. She sat down on her veranda and stared at the sky. Sipping from her coffee, she let her memory take her back to her first meeting with Colonel Jack O'Neill. Not knowing what to expect, she was assigned to the SGC and fell headlong into a medical crisis. A strange virus was affecting almost everybody of the SGC, turning them into the most primitive creatures. She had been so afraid. She had had absolutely no clue of what to do; she had never been in a situation like that.

That's when she met him. Interested in all her test-results, caring for all those people. Trying to help her with suggestions that popped up in his mind. It took her a while to understand how determined he was to solve the problem, regardless of the costs. Only after he had begged her to experiment on him, fighting off the effects of the virus on sheer willpower, eyes pleading desperately, touching her face gently, she understood his need to protect the people under his command, even if it would cost him his own life. Knowing all too well that she should not have taken his offer, she had done it. There was just no time for other solutions. With the General affected with the virus too, there was nobody left to decide for her so she had used him, like he had expected of her. She had gambled, and won. Most important however, with that, she had won HIS respect and that was the start of their friendship.

Understanding his need to keep his people safe was one thing, but finding out WHY was a whole other matter. She shivered, remembering how she had sat down one night at the SGC, starting to read the Colonel's medical file. During the time she worked at the SGC she had saved his life and patched him up on God knows how many occasions. The most life-threatening situation had been the Antarctica-accident; she had nearly lost him that time.

Those situations were nothing, however, compared to what he'd already been through before his assignment with the SGC. The parts of his escape out of the desserts of Iran after a parachute-mishap were damn hard to comprehend. The pages of his imprisonment in Iraq during the Gulf war were almost impossible to read. Now she knew WHY. He had experienced himself how it felt to be left behind, to have nobody to protect you. How the man had survived all this shit was beyond her imagination. After she had read it, she had felt the most horrified pity for him. Until she had realized that this man needed no pity. This man deserved respect. This man needed a little help from a friend, although she would never tell him that. Through the years, she had become his friend, somebody he respected and could trust. Based on that, she probably was the only one to get him to talk, where he would push others away and crawl back into his shell. So Janet took it upon her to look after him, to care for him and to be there for him when he needed her.

That's why she was terrified tonight. She was not only afraid he would get hurt again this time; she was also afraid of the consequences with his team. His team was his life right now. After losing so much, his wife, his son, she didn't want to find out how he would react to losing his team. She knew how hard of a time he had coping after the Asgard-incident. He didn't need somebody else's shit to add to that. He damn well didn't deserve this. Somehow, she would have to help him. She didn't know how yet, but she was determined to find a way.

Dave Moser had needed all his self-control to not show his surprise to the man who had stopped by his driveway. Trembling with tension, he forced himself to show a steady face, without recognition and desperately tried to act as normal as could be. How on earth had the Colonel found him? Oh, his act was perfect, asking where the Simpsons' lived, trying to make him think it was all a coincidence. Only the Colonel couldn't fool him. Obviously he had underestimated the dear Colonel, a mistake he shouldn't have made. He grabbed the newspaper from the mailbox and drove his car to the back of his house, watching the Colonel drive away from the corner of his eyes.

Scanning the area carefully, he found no signs or evidence that the Colonel had been near his house. Still, he wasn't sure about it. He had been gone a while; the Colonel had had plenty of time. He opened his backdoor and entered his house, looking for any signs of break in. He found nothing; maybe he had been lucky after all. Dave walked to his kitchen, opened a can of pop and grabbed a bag of potato chips. He wished he could see the Colonel's face, when he found his next message. Jeez, the man would be so pissed!  That was his intention; he needed to distract the Colonel. The man needed to be so distracted and so pissed off, that he would start to make mistakes. Then he would make his next move. This was indeed an interesting game, much more fun than the General's last 2IC! He had to be more careful, though. He would need to find another place to stay; this place was not safe anymore. After shoving away old newspapers to create a spot to sit, he settled on the couch and turned the television on, sipping from his pop.

What were the chances that the Colonel had discovered his other house? Pretty high, he assumed; they had both been registered to the name of Jim Cummings. He needed to find another cover. Munching on his chips, he decided to find another place first thing in the morning. He still had a couple of ideas in mind. The Colonel was smart, but he was smarter! He also needed another car now. Thinking of a buddy, who could help him with that, he got to his feet and headed for the phone. His attention snapped to the receiver, lying next to the phone on the desk. He caught his breath, aware of the busy signal the receiver made. Damn-it! So, the Colonel had been in to his house after all! Mentally kicking himself for not checking everything before settling on the couch -another stupid mistake- he dropped on his knees in front of his desk. He crawled under it, trying to detect any explosives the Colonel might have left for him. He sighed in relief when he didn't find anything.

Getting up, he wiped the sweat on his forehead away, thinking about his next move. Now he had to search his whole house. He suddenly felt threatened; how safe was it to stay here? What if the Colonel had successfully hidden explosives in a place where he couldn't find them? The man had been serving with Black Ops; he sure as hell would be capable of that! Was the Colonel gone, or was he still outside, watching him, waiting for his next move? Dave shivered, chilled to the bone. He realized he needed to finish this game soon. He first needed to get out of this place; otherwise HE would be the one losing his concentration. After all, the Colonel was not his only target; he also had a special meeting in mind with a certain General. For Dave, failure was no option. He'd waited too long for this opportunity for that. He looked nervously around, afraid a Black-Ops trained soldier would jump on him any minute. Yeah, he needed to leave, he didn't feel safe in this house anymore.

Dave gathered his most important belongings, looking over his shoulder every minute. The sooner he left the better! Turning the lights off, he walked out of the door, closing it behind him. All his muscles tensed, ready to respond to any kind of reaction, he headed to his car, got in, started the engine and left, glancing in his mirror along the way.

It was already late that evening when Jack parked his car on his driveway. He had visited the third address the computer came up with after his "meeting" with David Moser. It was an empty house down a road just outside town. There were no signs of life, but therefore it could be a perfect retreat for Moser. Jack had investigated the place inside out and had printed every single detail about the surroundings in his mind. You never knew if he would need it...

Jack walked to his front door and visibly inspected his door. He found no signs of unlawful entry. He took his time to carefully inspect the area around his house; he didn't need more surprises. The windows looked clear and there were no unidentified footprints. Jack felt safe enough to open his door. His instincts were still up and running at 100%; he was ready to react to anything. Nothing happened when he threw the door wide open. A familiar white envelope and another piece of paper on the floor were the first things Jack registered when he stepped inside and visibly scanned his house. Nothing happened and his intuition told him that he was alone. He closed the door behind him and picked the envelope and paper up. Before looking at either one of them, he made sure he was alone by checking every room. His intuition had been right.

Jack walked back to his kitchen, opened the fridge and fetched himself a cold beer. Dropping into his favourite chair, he placed his beer on the side table and tore the envelope open. This time, it contained a picture. Jack inhaled sharply. It was Daniel. The picture was obviously taken in front of Daniel's apartment. He must have just walked out of the apartment building, probably heading for his car. Damn! Jack threw the picture on the table, when he became aware of some black bold letters on the back of the picture. He picked it up again to see what it said.

            WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU....  GUESS WHO'S NEXT?

Cursing out loud, Jack stood up and started pacing up and down his living room. The son-of-a-bitch! What was he trying to do? Kill his team, like he had with the General's team? Damn-it! How was he supposed to protect them, without telling them the truth? What would be his next move? Would he still be the first target? Jack hoped so, so he could take this guy out before things got out of hand. What if he failed? Damn, he wouldn't fail. He couldn't! Daniel would pay the price if he did, without having a clue about what was going on. 'Oh, Daniel, not you, why you? Why now, for crying out loud.' Things were complicated enough right now. Daniel was still pissed off with him and he had no idea how to break the ice between them yet. Jack resolutely banged his fists against the wall. He would get this guy before he could do something to harm Daniel. He'd have to. He couldn't screw this up, like he had after he came back from Edora. He could not let them down again, like with this whole goddamned mission to catch Makepeace. He sighed heavily and sank back in his chair, sipping from his beer. His attention fell on the other piece of paper he had found on the floor. He opened it and read:

           Colonel,

We waited for you for almost an hour. We'll go to Daniel's place and start the barbecue. Hope you will join us soon. Carter.

The barbecue. Shit! How could he forget that? They were supposed to gather for a barbecue tonight and he'd forgotten! Well, that was smart. Now he'd really blown it. How in the world could he make this up with them? Daniel would never speak to him again! Carter would give him her little attitude, only talking to him in her professional military mode, not showing any emotion at all and even Teal'c would be pissed off with him this time. Jack threw his bottle of beer hard against the wall out of frustration. Defeated, he dropped his head in his hands and sat there motionless for a long time.

The phone rang, dragging Jack back to the present. He shook off his desperate thoughts and walked to his desk. Jack quickly scanned the telephone, then looked under his desk to make sure no explosives were hooked to his phone this time. When he felt it was safe, he answered it with a short "Yeah?".

"Jack! Where the hell have you been?"

It was Daniel. It was more than obvious that it was an irritated, pissed off Daniel. Even knowing how mad Daniel would be with him, Jack was shocked by the tone of the archaeologist's voice.

"Daniel! Look, I'm sorry..." Jack started to apologize, only to find himself being interrupted rudely.

"You're sorry? The hell you are! We were supposed to have a barbecue at your place, remember? We were there, but you didn't show up. How could you do that to us?" Daniel was almost yelling this time.

Jack bowed his head. What could he say? How could he make things up to his friends again? God, he wished he knew. He sighed and gave it another shot. "I know, Daniel, I don't know what to say. There was something important I needed to do. I..." Shit! What was he supposed to tell the kid? That he had another damn secret mission? Daniel didn't need another secret, to be shut out again. "I am SO sorry, Daniel..." the Colonel whispered.

It was silent on the other end of the line for a while. Then, softly, Daniel responded: "Right, another classified mission. I should have known. Well, at least now I know why Sarah left you, Jack. Goodnight."

Daniel's hurtful words cut through Jack's soul. Daniel had broken off the connection, but Jack stood there, the receiver against his ear, for a long time. The words echoed through his mind: "now I know why Sarah left you... now I know why Sarah left you..." He had left Black Ops because Sarah couldn't take it anymore. It had taken him a long time to admit that his work was breaking up his marriage, but when he finally understood, he made his decision easily. Maybe, if Charlie hadn't died, it wouldn't have been too late. Jack had sworn to himself, that he would never ever put somebody through that again. Yet, he had. Not his wife but the closest friends he had. He had lost Sarah and now he would lose his friends because of his job too. A single tear rolled over his cheeks as he dropped the phone. Knowing that sleep was not an option at this moment, he gathered another beer and climbed up to his roof, his favourite spot of the house. He had spent way too much time there, staring at the stars, thinking his life over and over again. This night, he would add a couple of hours to the record.

General Hammond had not left Cheyenne Mountain since he had received the first letter. He had been in contact with Colonel O'Neill over the phone, so he knew every detail of his 2IC's search for Dave Moser. He had arranged a special assignment for Dr. Daniel Jackson, just to keep him safe inside Cheyenne Mountain. The linguist had not asked any questions, but had reported to him within the hour. The General was relieved that Daniel Jackson was safe, for now. Pondering which move they needed to make next, he paced through his office. Hammond hated being ruled by somebody else. He needed to take things back in his own hands again. No way he would let Moser get away with this! No way he would let the same thing happen to Jack, that happened to... "Don't go there, George," he told himself. "I will be damned if I am not going to do something about this shit. Jack is right. I don't want to loose this and I will fight for it." Encouraged by his own thoughts, he looked at the print outs Jack had given him again. Jack had investigated all three addresses. Moser was using at least one of them. What could he do to help Jack? Staying here in his office was no help at all. General Hammond made his decision easily. He was going to investigate some things on his own.

Colonel O'Neill had taken a couple of precautions before proceeding his investigation into the life of Dave Moser. He had switched cars. He had also notified General Hammond about the latest message from Moser and arranged with him to keep Daniel on the base as much as possible. The General would come up with some kind of research assignment for the SGC's first linguist. Knowing Daniel would be kept busy in his lab, the Colonel felt a lot more comfortable. Having both hands free to do whatever was necessary, he drove back to the house where he had met Dave Moser for the first time. He wasn't really surprised to find it empty. His target was getting nervous and had apparently left in a hurry. Jack smiled inwardly; his little trick with the phone had worked. Now he just had to find the man again.

Jack went to the third house and searched it carefully. As he had expected, Moser wasn't there. Moser knew, the Colonel would have found out about his other address too. The only reason Jack went through the house was to find any clue at all, a name, an address, anything. Finding nothing in the house of interest, Jack examined the phone. A thought occurring to him, he pressed the redial-button.  It took about half a minute before a harsh voice answered it with a short "Yeah?"

"Is Joshua there?" Jack asked without hesitation.

"You must have the wrong number, Mister. I don't know anybody named Joshua," the voice responded.

The Colonel made sure his voice sounded as surprised as possible. "Is that right? Which number is this?"

Click. The man on the other side broke off the connection without answering Jack's last question. Damn. Now he had to go through some trouble to find out what he needed to know. Jack took the phone again and dialled another number. Twenty minutes later, he had a name. He grabbed a phone book from the shelf and searched. There it was. Jack drew a circle around it, ripped the page out of the book and left the house. He needed a computer to do some research again, so he headed back to Cheyenne Mountain.

On Monday morning, General Hammond drove to the first of the two warehouses, which were connected to the name Jim Cummings. He was dressed in black trousers and a plain white shirt, unlike his usual attire.  He parked his car two blocks away from the address and walked the distance. The warehouse was located in an industrial park, surrounded by lots of other similar buildings. The warehouse Hammond was looking for had a sign on the roof: 'Bernie's supplies'. The warehouse was closed and there were no windows to peek through. Walking around the building showed him that there was no other entry to it than the front.

The General walked over to the loading area and stopped a guy driving a forklift. "Excuse me, I'm looking for Bernie. Do you know where I can find him?"

The man, chewing on a wad of tobacco, answered him: "Try his office, on Mason Street, Mister."

Hammond thanked him and headed back to his car. He drove off and found Bernie's office on Mason Street without any trouble. As far as he could tell, Bernie specialized in spare parts for tractors. Wondering about the connection to Dave Moser, he entered the office and found Bernie, leaning back in a huge chair behind an oak wooden desk, feet propped on top of it, smoking a big cigar.

Hammond introduced himself as George Parker and explained that he owed some money to Jim Cummings, but couldn't find him.

"Jim Cummings has left the country three months ago. I took his warehouse over. It worked out for me." Bernie offered the General a cigar, but Hammond turned the offer down.

"Do you happen to know where he went?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Brazil, I think he said. I'm not his secretary, you know..." Bernie answered. For him, this conversation was over. Knowing it would lead to nothing more, the General thanked him and left. ... Brazil... right. That was the last known address of Dave Moser. This wasn't getting him anywhere. Maybe he would have more luck at the second warehouse address.

Dave Moser had found himself a new place to stay. After settling in, he decided to make his next move towards Colonel O'Neill. He had enough of this game and wanted to end it a little bit sooner than planned. The Colonel had scared the shit out of him, although he would not admit that. His mistakes had made him realize he was not as sharp as he used to be. The Colonel had proved to be a more difficult target as expected. So, no more hunting ... he would just grab the guy when he had the chance and use him to catch his old friend Hammond as well.

He dialled the Colonel's house to see if he was at home, but got his answering machine. "Come on, dear Colonel. Where are you?" Dave said to himself. Figuring the Colonel would probably be checking out the two warehouses, connected to Jim Cummings, he got into his car and drove off. He would plan a little surprise for him somewhere...

Dave figured the Colonel would go digging for more information. For gathering information the Colonel probably needed access to military files, so the most logical place for him to go was Cheyenne Mountain. Satisfied with his reasoning, he found himself a perfect spot along the road to the mountain. Gun at the ready, all he had to do was wait.

His patience was rewarded after more than two hours of waiting. A dark blue vehicle approached him. It was not the same car the Colonel was driving yesterday, so at first he paid no attention to it. Looking closer, he recognized the tall figure of Colonel O'Neill. He cursed out loud; why hadn't he thought about that? Stupid, now it was almost too late! Quickly, he aimed and fired.

General Hammond arrived at the second warehouse address and drove around the brick building to scan the area. There were no identifying signs on the roof of this warehouse, the big blue door was closed and securely locked and the place looked abandoned. By the height of the weeds growing in front of the door, Hammond could tell it hadn't been used for a while.

The whole place seemed abandoned. The General didn't see any people or cars passing by. Wondering about that, he pondered about his next move. He needed to find a way into the warehouse to check it out. Reaching into a bag on the passenger's seat, he gathered a bunch of keys. He probably had a master key on there that would open that door. It was a risk, but the General didn't care about his career right now. Chances that he would get caught were low anyway, given the fact that there were hardly any people around. Hammond parked his car, grabbed a flashlight from the trunk and walked to the blue door. He tried his keys and after a dozen efforts he managed to unlock it.

He quickly stepped inside and closed the door behind him. It took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the dark and he waited anxiously. Nothing happened. He was positive he was alone in the building. He used his flashlight to look around. Other than some shelves and empty barrels, the warehouse was completely empty. Heading for the shelves, Hammond tried to find anything that could be connected to Dave Moser or Jim Cummings. He found nothing that could help him. Crossing the warehouse to check out the barrels, his eyes fell on a piece of paper on the ground. Bending over, he picked it up. It was hand-written; torn out of some kind of notebook. It looked like an address, but it was not complete. There were some numbers written too. Hammond wondered if it could be a telephone number, but again, it was incomplete. Already thinking of ways to figure the address out, General Hammond left the building, got into his car and headed back to Cheyenne Mountain.

Jack woke up, moaning as he felt the sharp pain in his arm. He could feel the blood trickle from the wound where the bullet had grazed him. The memory of what had happened made him groan. "Oh, man! How can the same shit happen to the same guy twice?" he asked himself. Assessing his situation, he found himself sitting on a chair, arms tightly secured behind his back, his ankles bound to the chair legs. Moving was almost impossible, his efforts causing more pain to his injured arm.

Jack looked around. This place looked like a storage room. Some shelves held all kinds of stuff, including some jars and bottles. There were no windows; just one single door, most likely securely locked. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room. Despite the pain it caused him, Jack started to work on the knots behind his back. The blood, which was oozing down his arm, made his hands slippery and it was almost impossible to get a grip on the knots. Stubbornly, Jack continued, not willing to give up. He had to find a way to get out of this situation and turn the events into his advantage. He owed that to his team, especially Daniel. Not aware of the drops of sweat rolling off his forehead, he kept working on the knots; pleased to feel them loosening up.

Ten painful minutes later, the ropes were loose. Letting them drop to the floor, Jack moved his arms in front of him, hissing in pain. He bent over to free his ankles but the sudden movement caused him a wave of dizziness and he was barely able to stop himself from falling to the ground. Jack sat up straight again and waited for the room to stop spinning. Very slowly, he bent down again and untied his ankles. He had no time to regain his strength, as suddenly the door opened and Moser stepped in. "Colonel, can I have a word with you...?"

Back in his office, General Hammond made some calls. One of them was to the cell phone of his Second. When the Colonel didn't answer it, a sudden shiver ran through him. What if something had happened to Jack? Feeling that there was no time to lose, he made the rest of his calls, urging his people to dig up the information he needed. In between, he dialled the Colonel's house and cursed, when he got no answer. Waiting for some people to call him back, Hammond nervously drummed with his fingers on his desk. "Come on, Jack, where are you?" He didn't want to think about what could have happened, but images of his former 2IC, cut up badly, popped in his head. The General knew something was wrong, very wrong. Finally, his phone rang. He picked it up, listened to the information, wrote something down on a piece of paper and threw the phone back in its place. "Got it!" he mumbled. He grabbed the piece of paper, rushed out of his office and a couple of minutes later he drove away, not noticing a dark figure following him...

Jack jumped to his feet and headed to the door, using the benefit of surprise. "You can have two. FUCK and YOU!" he said, sending a hard blow against the chin of his opponent.

Dave fell down backwards, completely surprised by the Colonel's attack. He got to his feet amazingly fast though, successfully blocking the next blow coming into his direction. Dave made a quick turn-around and planted a firm karate-kick in the Colonel's stomach, so fast it would even have surprised Chuck Norris.

Jack stumbled backwards, desperately trying to stay on his feet. He landed with his back against the wall, gasping for air. Dave was already there, trying to land some blows in his ribcage, but Jack kicked him hard in his shin. Dave groaned loudly. He wanted to end this game right now. Driven by anger, he grabbed his knife and stabbed into the direction of the approaching Colonel. Jack gave the man another blow to the head, when the knife punctured his right thigh. Dave pulled it back immediately and looked on in satisfaction at the stumbling Colonel, who groaned deeply and clutched at his leg. Blood was flowing down the injured limb, soaking his trousers. Jack felt his leg buckle beneath him, unable to support his weight. He saw Dave approach him through the fog that seemed to have settled around him and unconsciously did what Dave expected the least. He forced all of his balance on his wounded leg and managed to launch a hard blow at his nose. This took Dave completely off guard; he felt his nose break as he fell backwards. Not paying any attention to the blood that was running down his face, he threw the knife into the direction of the Colonel. Jack's leg finally gave out completely and he fell sideways, but the knife still managed to hit him and entered his left shoulder. Jack slid to the ground; his hands clasping the knife in his shoulder, only remaining conscious by force sheer of will.

Dave got to his feet slowly, a sadistic smile on his face. "Now it is time to end the game, Colonel," he said as he wiped the blood from his face away with his sleeve.

"I don't think so." A firm voice caught the attention of both men. Dave looked over his shoulder. General Hammond appeared in the doorway, taking stock of the situation in the room.

"How nice of you to join us, George. I was just finishing off your Second" Dave turned around now to pay his full attention to the man in front of him. As he had expected, the General approached him. It was the speed of the approach that he hadn't expected. Hammond's fist landed hard on his already broken nose and Dave cried out in pain. Almost immediately, the General was all over him, hitting him hard in the ribcage and stomach area. Dave barely managed to hit the General back and a last hard blow on the head knocked him out completely. All went black and he fell to the ground, unconscious.

General Hammond bent over to check his pulse. Positive the man was unconscious and not faking it; he turned around and rushed to the Colonel, who lay motionless on the other side of the room.

"Nice job, for an old man, Sir," Jack hissed through clenched teeth. The Colonel was fighting to stay conscious but it looked like he was losing the battle. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and he broke out in a massive sweat. His face was consorted with pain and he was gasping for his breath. General Hammond looked desperately around for something to stem the blood. Finding nothing he could use, he stood straight and started to take his shirt off. At that moment, Dave struggled to his feet, with a gun in his hand, aiming at the General. Jack's trained mind registered this through the blackness that was surrounding him, forced himself to get up and pulled the knife out of his shoulder at the same time. Groaning out loud, he threw the knife in Dave's direction, hitting him in his stomach.

Teal'c entered the room, fired a zat-gun three times at Dave, then rushed to his CO. Jack was unaware of the big Jaffa, who managed to catch him like a feather before he hit the ground.

General Hammond looked open mouthed from Teal'c to the place where Dave had been only seconds ago before disintegrating. Hammond turned his attention back to Jack. Teal'c had already placed the man in the recovery position and knelt beside the Colonel. He had taken off his shirt, pressing it against the bleeding shoulder of his CO. The General dropped to his knees and did the same with his own shirt on the thigh-wound.

"How the hell did you find us? How did you manage to steal a zat-gun from MY SGC through MY security and ... o, no. Don't tell me, I don't want to know." Hammond sighed heavily, feeling relieved it was all over, but worried deeply about Jack's condition.

"I believe O'Neill requires medical assistance." Teal'c stated simply, not responding to the General's earlier questions. He had carefully felt the pulse of the Colonel and found it dangerously weak.

General Hammond grabbed his phone and dialled Dr. Janet Fraiser.

"This is General Hammond. Colonel O'Neill needs immediate medical assistance. He has lost a lot of blood." He thought for a second, figuring out what would be the fastest way. Not wanting his CMO to get lost in this unfamiliar part of town he made a decision: "Grab everything you need and come to my house. We'll meet you there."

Teal'c needed no more words. He gently picked his unconscious CO up and carried him carefully to the General's car.

Janet Fraiser rushed through her infirmary, giving her orders to Dr. Warner. "You're in charge. I have an emergency and I need to leave now. Can you manage?" Dr. Warner nodded reassuringly. "We'll be alright. Go! Good luck."

Janet grabbed some bags of AB-negative from the fridge and wrapped them up in a cooler. On her way out the door, she also grabbed one of the pre-stocked field trauma kits. Two minutes later, Janet paced in the elevator. Damn, damn, damn! Why did it always have to take so long to reach the top floor? The Colonel needed her fast; he had lost a lot of blood. Of course he had. There was no way he would come out of this unharmed. She could only hope she would be able to put him back together again. The elevator doors opened and she ran through. "I have an emergency!" she yelled at the guard at the front door, completely skipping normal check out procedures. Without losing speed, she ran towards her car, jumped in and drove off.

Only fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the General's house. She saw his car parked in the driveway and parked her car next to it. Grabbing her trauma kit and cooler in sweaty fingers, she jumped out of the car and ran towards the house. Janet had visited the General at his house on a couple of occasions, so she was familiar with it. Finding the door unlocked and the living room empty, she headed straight to the master bedroom.

Janet hesitated for a second, as if afraid of what she'd find behind that door. Shaking off her fear, she stepped into the room and looked at the scene in front of her. The Colonel lay on his side on the bed, deadly pale and apparently unconscious, his face screwed up from obvious pain. Teal'c sat beside him, pressing some gauze on the Colonel's shoulder, a worried frown on his face. General Hammond stood on the other side of the bed, a brief smile of relief appearing on his face now that his CMO had arrived. Janet took in Jack's blood soaked trousers, the already soaked bandage around his thigh and the small bandage around his left arm. Teal'c looked up at her and bowed his head slightly. "Doctor Fraiser. We have managed to stop the bleeding, but your assistance is still required."

Janet nodded and placed her trauma kit on the end of the bed, opening it up. "What happened to him?" she asked, gathering her stethoscope and penlight for a routine vitals check.

"He got into a fight with the same man who had shot him the other day. I think Moser first stabbed him with a knife in his thigh, then threw it in his shoulder," the General informed her.

Teal'c moved to make room for her. "Keep that gauze in place Teal'c. You're doing great. I'll work around you." Janet listened to Jack's heart and lungs. His breathing was rapid and shallow. As she had expected, his pulse was rapid. "General, could you please place a pillow under his legs. I need them elevated a bit. After that, I need you to turn up the heater; it's too cold in here for him."

Carefully, she wrapped the BP cuff around Jack's uninjured arm, nodding in approval at the General's efforts to elevate the Colonel's legs while she took his blood pressure. It was too low for her liking. Gathering her equipment, she started an IV and a separate blood transfusion to stabilize her patient.

"What happened to the knife?" she asked, trying to get more details of what happened.

"When I entered the room, Jack had the knife in his shoulder. He pulled it out..." the General started.

"He did what?!" Janet interrupted him. Damn, Jack knew better than that!

"... to throw it at Moser, who was about to shoot me." Hammond finished his sentence with a soft voice, head bowed down.

Janet Fraiser looked at him, shocked by what she'd just heard. Shaking her head, she continued her examination. The Colonel's pupils responded equally. That meant no serious head-injury then. Besides the ones she already knew, she found no other injuries on him. Gently but resolute, she shoved the General and Teal'c out of the room so she could start to tend to the Colonel's wounds without an audience.

The General poured some water for Teal'c and fixed himself something stronger. He paced through his living room, anxiously waiting for Doctor Fraiser to come out of the bedroom with more news about the Colonel.

Teal'c sipped from his water. He studied the man in front of him, wondering why he was tiring himself by walking nervously through the room. He was very worried about his CO too, but this restless behaviour did not help any.

"Why do you not sit down, General Hammond?" he had to ask.

Shaken out of his thought, the General stopped pacing and looked at Teal'c. "You're right. I might as well sit down." Taking a seat, his drink in his sweaty right hand, he looked at the Jaffa "How did you find us in that house, Teal'c?"

"I was following you, General Hammond." Teal'c answered simply.

Hammond looked surprised at him. "You followed me? Why?"

"O'Neill did not show up at a barbecue party. He would not do so without a good reason. I was deeply concerned about his safety. I am sorry, but I overheard your conversation with O'Neill over the phone yesterday. I was just passing through the corridors and I do have very good hearing." Teal'c left at that, assured the General would get the picture.

"Oh. Well, at least you saved me the trouble of covering up the traces of a dead body." Hammond said, still trying to figure out the impact of what he just heard. "You showed up just in time. Thank you for that."

Teal'c bowed his head slightly. "You are welcome, General Hammond."

"Can you take the zat-gun back to where it belongs without getting caught by my security?" the General had to know.

Teal'c nodded. "Indeed I can. After I know O'Neill is safe." There was no way he would leave his CO's side now. Teal'c had seen the injuries and knew they were serious. As soon as Doctor Fraiser was finished, he would take his position in a chair next to the bed of his CO and would not move until O'Neill would wake up.

Waiting always takes longer in mind than in reality. To Teal'c and General Hammond, it seemed like eternity. In reality, it had taken Doctor Fraiser almost two hours, but finally, she came out of the bedroom, looking tired and worn out. She approached the waiting men, who looked up at her, as if waiting for the final verdict.

"I have stitched the wound in the Colonel's thigh. It was a very nasty puncture wound, but the damage was minimal. I'm positive it will heal properly in time. His shoulder is another story. There was some major damage to his blood vessels and the knife scraped his clavicle. I was able to repair all of the damage, but we'll have to see how it heals. His arm was just grazed by a bullet again; I don't expect any trouble there. As you have seen, the Colonel lost a lot of blood and he was in shock when I arrived. I'm confident that the blood transfusion and medications I administered will help. I gave him some pretty heavy painkillers to help him relax. All we can do now is wait for him to wake up. By then I'll be able to tell you more. I don't expect him to wake up soon however." With that, Janet finished her report and looked directly at the General. "I take it that you want to keep this off the record, Sir. I will go with you on that, but the minute I think the Colonel is in danger, I want him in my infirmary STAT, no questions asked. Sir."

General Hammond nodded. "Of course. Thank you, Doctor. You're doing a great job."

Teal'c got up. "Can I see O'Neill, Doctor Fraiser?" he asked, wanting to be with his friend.

"Yes, Teal'c, go ahead." Janet motioned him. She knew from experience that he would sit next to the Colonel until he woke up. She watched him leave the living room and gladly accepted the drink the General handed to her. She sat down on the couch and sipped from it, sighing heavily. It had been a rough day. Worried about the situation in advance, she hadn't had enough sleep the night before. By the looks of it, she wouldn't get any sleep now either. Taking in the expression of the man in front of her, she realized he looked worse than she felt. "Are you all right, Sir?"

General Hammond nodded absently. "I'll be fine, thank you. How about you? You look tired. Do you want to lie down for a while? We can wake you up if there is any change in Jack's condition."  Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep for a while, given the many unpleasant images in his mind, he might as well give her the opportunity to sleep.

Janet thought about it for a second. She instinctually knew the General was not ready to talk about what happened yet. Like Jack, you needed to handle him with the greatest care, or he would close up on you forever.  She didn't expect Jack to wake up the next couple of hours and when he did, she would have to be there for him. So, she gladly accepted the offer and, after giving Teal'c strict instructions on when to wake her up, she headed to the spare bedroom to catch up with some well-earned sleep.

During the night, Jack surfaced for a short time. He stirred, alarming Teal'c, who was partaking of Kel'no'reem. Teal'c was beside him, before Jack opened his eyes. Feeling numb all over, too exhausted to remember anything, Jack gave Teal'c a weak smile before drifting back to sleep.

Teal'c took his CO's pulse and found it stronger and steady. Satisfied his CO was sleeping again, Teal'c decided he did not need to wake Doctor Fraiser. She was tired and he knew she needed her sleep. He would tell her O'Neill's progress when she woke up.

The next morning, Jack stirred again. The slight movement sent a sharp pain through his left shoulder, causing him to gasp for his breath. He opened his eyes and found Janet Fraiser leaning over him, smiling reassuringly. She gently had her hand on his right shoulder, to keep him from moving. "Good morning, Colonel. How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Tired... " Was all he could come up with. His arm didn't hurt too badly, as long as he didn't move. His shoulder however did hurt a lot and he also noticed a dull pain in his leg. Jack felt extremely tired, like he could sleep for days. It took him a lot of effort to keep his eyes open, focusing on his surroundings. "What happened?" he managed to ask with his dry, sore throat.

Janet grabbed a glass, filled it half with water and added a straw to make it easier for him to sip. With one arm under his head for support, she held it in front of him, waiting patiently for him to finish. Putting the empty glass away, she filled him in. "As far as we know, you were shot a second time by this man you were after. You got into a fight with him and he stabbed you in your thigh." She noticed some recognition on his face. "Do you remember now?"

Jack closed his eyes and covered his face with his free arm. "Oh, yeah! The General's friend... how could I forget? He was such a nice guy!" It suddenly made sense. Why else would he be in the General's house? He hadn't recognized the room at first, but now he did. When he opened his eyes again, he saw the General and Teal'c, standing at the bottom of the bed. Realising there were still some pieces missing, he added: "... he threw a knife at me. It hit me in the shoulder... That's when the General stepped into the room. The General knocked him down, but he got up again and aimed his gun..." Jack winced at the memory, "... I think I threw the knife back at him, but I don't remember anything else..."

"Teal'c zatted him three times. He's gone. It's over, Colonel," Janet reassured him, patting his arm gently. Checking his vitals, she noticed the conversation had worn him out completely. Although he tried not to show it, she could tell he was in a lot of pain. Sweat appeared on his brow and he tapped on the bed with his right hand, folded strongly into a fist. She injected some more painkillers in his IV, pulled the blankets straight to cover him and wiped his brow with a clean, wet cloth. "Rest now, Colonel. We'll talk later." He nodded weakly at her and drifted off to sleep.

The General and Teal'c followed her out of the room, the General looking questioningly at her, Teal'c's face as stoic as ever. "How is he doing, Doctor?" the General asked her.

"Well, I'm not unhappy. The Colonel is not in shock anymore; the blood transfusion has helped. He's very weak, though, as you saw and it will take a while for him to regain his strength. When he wakes up again, I'll check his injuries to see how they are healing. For now, he just needs to rest."

"Are you heading back to the base today?" Hammond asked her.

"Not yet, Sir. I need to be sure he is healing all right. After that, I will. I'll stop by your house first thing in the morning and before I go home again the next couple of days. I need somebody here to look after him." Janet wondered how the General would solve that.

"I will remain here." Teal'c said simply, as if not excepting any arguments.

The General thought for a second. "No. I need you to take that zat-gun back, before somebody misses it. I'll stay here, today. You can come back tomorrow, while I go back to my office."

"What about Major Carter and Doctor Jackson, Sir?" Janet had to know. "Are you going to fill them in? They have a right to know and they will be asking questions."

General Hammond stared at the wall. Would it be necessary to tell the other half of SG1? He'd rather have as few people knowing about this as possible. On the other hand, it would become difficult to avoid any questions they might have. "I'll think about it."  With that, the conversation was over for him. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll make some broth. The Colonel is going to be hungry when he wakes up." Noting the doctor's approving nod, he headed to the kitchen.

Teal'c said goodbye and went back to Cheyenne Mountain, leaving Janet nothing to do other than sit next to her sleeping friend and patient.

In the evening, friends and colleagues gathered in Major Carter's house for her birthday. Daniel had arranged most of it and was the first to give her a big birthday-kiss.

"Happy birthday, Sam. I'm so proud to be your team-mate and happy to be your friend as well. I hope to celebrate many more birthdays with you."

Sam smiled at him, amazed at his ever-kind words. "Thank you, Daniel. I hope you'll stick around for a while, too."

Apologizing for not having a present, Daniel looked at his watch. "I hope Jack and Teal'c didn't forget about tonight." His anger with Jack from a couple of days ago was forgotten for the moment; he had been too busy with an interesting translating job on some scripts SG-9 had brought back from PX3482. As usual, Daniel had lost track of time, unaware of his surroundings and everything else. Completely focused on the task at hand, he had barely eaten and slept only a little, staying on his feet, helped by tons of caffeine. The job had been a real challenge; he also had to teach a newly hired linguist along the way. It occurred to him that he could have offered Teal'c a ride to Sam's house. It was dumb of him to forget that. He really should do something about that addiction of his; there was more in life than translations and artefacts.

When Major Louis Ferretti, the Commanding Officer of SG-2, arrived with Teal'c by his side, Daniel was glad somebody else had offered him the ride. He would have to apologize to Teal'c later for that.

Teal'c had successfully returned the zat-gun to the arms depot earlier that day. He had completely forgotten it was Major Carter's birthday, his mind still on his participation of catching the man who had shot O'Neill. Luckily for him, Major Ferretti had asked him to come. On their way over to Major Carter's house, Teal'c had been wondering what to tell her. He knew O'Neill was not able to join the party, but he also knew he was not allowed to tell the truth. That was something for General Hammond to do. This placed him in a delicate position. Given Daniel Jackson's earlier reaction to O'Neill's absence, he could well imagine what would happen this time. He had tried to talk to Daniel Jackson after O'Neill's assignment with the Asgard, Tollen and Nox, but he had not achieved much. Feeling the fierce need to protect his CO, Teal'c found it difficult to face his other team members now. Shaking off his worries, he decided that time would have to solve any problems he could not prevent at this point.

"Major Carter, I wish to congratulate you on your birthday. I also have the unpleasant task to inform you, that Colonel O'Neill can not be present tonight. I am sorry."

"Thank you, Teal'c." Sam looked at him, surprised. "The Colonel isn't coming? Why?"

"He had other ... obligations. I can assure you he deeply regrets it." Teal'c kept it to that, hoping the Major would not ask any more questions. She didn't, her attention taken by other arriving guests. Teal'c hoped the General would talk to her soon, before she had the chance to get aggravated. He prepared himself as he saw SG-1's archaeologist approach him with a frown on his face.

"Hi, Teal'c!"

Teal'c bowed his head. "Daniel Jackson. Have you made progress on your translation job?" he inquired.

"Yes, Teal'c, we're getting there. As a matter of fact, I was so occupied by it, I totally forgot to pick you up, I'm sorry."

"It is of no importance, Daniel Jackson. I am here now."

"Yes, I saw you came here with Ferretti. I was just wondering, what is taken Jack so long? He should be here by now! With our present, I hope." Daniel looked over his shoulder at the door, expecting Jack to come in any minute.

"O'Neill can not make it tonight, Daniel Jackson. He is deeply sorry about it."

Daniel looked up at him, unpleasantly surprised. "What? Jack isn't coming? It's Sam's birthday, he can't do that!"

Teal'c sighed. This was going to be difficult. "I am sure he wishes to be here tonight, Daniel Jackson. He simply cannot." Humans were so hard to understand sometimes. What difference did a birthday make? On Chulak, they did not celebrate birthdays anyway. Humans did however and they made a big deal out of it.

Daniel Jackson looked from Teal'c to Sam and back to Teal'c. A sad expression appeared on his face. "I don't know, Teal'c. Maybe he could have tried a little harder. It seems to me he doesn't care about us much as he used to. Now what? We have no present for Sam. I heard Janet is not coming either, she had an emergency."

Well, an emergency it was, if Daniel only knew. Teal'c was glad the man didn't loose his temper all together. "I am sure Major Carter will understand." he said and excused himself to talk to Sgt. Siler.

Janet Fraiser studied the face of her sleeping friend closely. The painkillers had visibly relaxed the man. The lines of pain were gone and he had been sleeping peacefully for a couple of hours now. She wondered how many times he had woken up alone, nobody by his side to help, after getting wounded on some off-the-record-mission. "On my own" could have been written just for him. He was well trained for that. Needing to protect everybody, he would make sure everybody was safe, willing to take the entire burden on his own shoulders. He had ordered his team to 'gate home while he was affected with the nanovirus on Argos, afraid for their safety. He had ordered Sam to go while he was dying in an ice-cave on Antarctica, hoping she would be able to make it without him. Who had volunteered the first to set a bomb in the gateroom to protect the earth from being sucked into a black hole? Janet knew this man would only rest if he knew the others were safe.

This whole affair, was it not the same thing? Some sick psycho comes to threaten the General and there he goes, on his own, trying to save somebody again. Sure, the man had picked him personally as a target, but he could have called for help, dealt with it differently. Not Jack O'Neill however. Somebody else could get hurt and he didn't want that to happen. He nearly got himself killed again because of that. Janet shivered. What would have happened if the General and Teal'c had not shown up? Somehow she thought he would have found a way, injured as he was, to win the battle. Had he not proven that by removing a knife from his own body and throwing it at this man, while only barely conscious? Shaking her head, she wondered how this man survived every time. It was probably a mix of Irish luck, sheer willpower, a perfect training and dumb stubbornness.

Janet's thoughts were interrupted as the Colonel started tossing and turning, mumbling incoherent words, obviously caught in a nightmare. She was by his side immediately, stroking his hair softly, whispering soothing words in his ear. Afraid he might hurt himself when he didn't settle under her touch, she decided to wake him up. "Colonel, wake up, please. You're dreaming. Colonel, come on." Shaking him softly with one hand, she grabbed a cold cloth with the other and started to wipe off his face.

Her efforts were effective as Jack opened his eyes, whispering "Not Daniel!" Catching his breath, he settled back in his pillow, trying to regain his composure.

Janet handed him a glass of water, which he sipped through the straw and asked gently: "What was that all about?"

Jack remained silent for a while, staring at the ceiling. Finally he looked at her. "Don't you have anything better to do than watching me dream?" Janet smiled briefly; knowing it was his way to thank her for being there. "I received a letter from Moser that Daniel would be his next target... I dreamed that I lost the battle and Daniel paid the price..." Jack sighed. "Well, luckily that didn't happen."

"No it didn't," she responded softly, understanding the impact of the situation. So he was not only protecting the General, but Daniel as well. Daniel, the closest friend he had. God, how determined he would have been, after their latest crisis. No matter how mad Daniel was at him, Janet knew Jack would do anything within his power to protect him. Especially because Daniel was mad at him, as if to make things up to him. "Are you okay?"

"Just peachy..." he answered, which probably meant 'not really'.

"Okay. I need to check your bandages, then run some tests. You know the drill. After that, I want you to eat something. We need you to regain a little strength. Sounds good?"

Jack nodded. "Fine, Doc." He grabbed her hand and made her look at him. "Thanks, Janet."

She smiled. "Any time, Jack. Any time."

Forty minutes later, the General entered the room with some hot broth on a tray. Janet was finished with her ministrations and was just cleaning up. She had changed his bandages, disconnected the blood transfusion and washed him up before injecting a new dose of painkillers into the IV.

"Hi, Jack. How are you doing?" the General wanted to know.

"I'm in good hands, Sir. I'll be all right." As usual, Jack avoided a direct answer to a question concerning his health. Realizing he was rather hungry, he struggled to sit up. Janet and General Hammond rushed to his side. Hammond grabbed him by his right arm and Janet shoved her arm under his leg, avoiding hurting his injured left side. Together, they managed to pull the Colonel into a sitting position and Janet propped him up with some pillows until she thought he was comfortable.

Feeling dizzy from the sudden change in position, Jack's vision blurred. Gasping for air, he closed his eyes, felt drops of sweat ran down his face and was afraid he would pass out. A nice cool wet cloth on his face brought him back to reality. Janet wiped his brow and neck until the dizziness passed.

"You think you can eat some soup now, Son?" the General asked, indicating the tray. When Jack slowly nodded, Hammond handed the bowl over to Janet, who sat down on the bed on Jack's right side. Knowing Jack hated being fed, she gave him the spoon, held the bowl in front of him and let him eat on his own. Jack managed to empty the bowl, but by then his hand was trembling. Without saying a word, Janet gently took the spoon from him.

"There. That should make you feel a little better, I think."  Placing the bowl back on the tray, she addressed the General. "Sir, if Colonel O'Neill has another good night's sleep, I'll head back to the base first thing in the morning.  Colonel, I want you to stay put and rest. THAT'S an order."

Jack would have saluted if he weren't so damn tired, so he just responded with an amused smile on his face: "Yes, Ma'am."

Daniel walked over to the lab, looking for Sam. He found her, working on a computer, running a simulation program on some piece of material, brought back by SG-3.

"Hi, Sam! Care for some coffee?"

She looked up at him. "Hey, Daniel. I'm coming! Just a minute, this program is almost ready." Staring at the screen in front of her, she waited for the results to be presented. "Yes! As I expected! Lieutenant, could you please make notes of these results in our report and run it again, raising the value by 50? I'll be right back."

"Yes, Ma'am. I'll work on it right away."

Satisfied, Sam stood up and followed Daniel to the commissary. Daniel poured two coffees from the machine, handed one over to Sam and sat down next to her.

"So, how are you, Sam?" Daniel asked sincerely. Daniel hardly had time to talk to her at the party; she had been so busy with her guests. He had observed her however, and had noticed her absently looking back at the door, as if she was still expecting somebody. He was positive, he knew who she secretly expected. He also knew that person had not shown up that night.

Sam didn't look at him directly, trying to make it easier on herself by saying: "Fine, Daniel. I'm just busy with these tests." What was she supposed to tell him? That she'd been awfully disappointed that her CO hadn't come to her birthday? That she really had expected him to show up, with some special present? That she'd been so mad at him after the party that she couldn't sleep? He'd think she had lost her mind! It was only a birthday, not that important after all. She was not a teenager anymore, damn-it.

Daniel didn't respond. He just looked at her, trying to read her thoughts. She wasn't fine. Damn. He wasn't fine either! Why couldn't she just tell him how she felt?

Knowing she couldn't fool Daniel, Sam sighed. "Look, Daniel. I was really disappointed that the Colonel couldn't make it to the party, okay? I know he must have had a very good reason, but still..."

This time, she did look at him. Daniel nodded, she had at least told him that much. "I was disappointed too, Sam. As a matter of fact, I still am. Why couldn't he come? What was so damn important that he just skipped your birthday?"

Sam sipped from her coffee. "It is not that important, Daniel. I'm glad you and Teal'c were there. It's okay." She didn't sound convincing and she knew it.

"You know what I hate the most? That Jack didn't even bother calling. Just to let us know where he was and why he couldn't show up. That's not that difficult, is it? No, he just leaves us guessing and thinks that's okay. Well, it's not; I don't want to be treated like that anymore. Neither should you." Daniel decided he would tell Jack exactly how he felt the minute he saw him.

"He told Teal'c. Isn't that enough?" Sam wondered, trying to defend her CO again.

"No, it's not. Was it Teal'c's birthday? No. It was yours, Sam. He should have told you in the first place." Daniel said firmly, finishing his coffee at one draught. Throwing his empty cup away, he asked: "Where the hell is Jack anyway? I still haven't seen him, you?"

Sam shook her head. "No. He isn't on the base. I have no idea where he is. Let's just wait and see what he has to say when he shows up, okay? Anyway, I have to go back to the lab. Are we still on for pizza-night on Friday?"

"Eh, yeah, of course. We better gather in my apartment then. I don't want to be at Jack's house again, waiting for him to show up. I'll drop Teal'c and Jack a note about that."

With that settled, they left the commissary and headed back to work.

Jack was glad he was alone for a while. Teal'c had kept him company, the General had been fussing over him like a father would over his son and Janet, well, Janet was just Janet. Although he appreciated it, he was getting a bit tired of all the attention. He desperately needed some privacy. When the General had to go to the office, he hadn't objected at all. He had encouraged him to go, convincing him he would be fine.

He was fine. Well, apart from a stiff, sore leg that hurt every time he moved it. Not to mention his shoulder, that hurt a lot, even if he didn't move it. According to Janet, who had stopped by in the morning, he was healing nicely.  She'd removed the IV, left him a bottle of painkillers and given him a strict lecture of what to do and what not to do.

Getting up and wandering around the house was probably on the 'not to do' list. He did it anyway, longing to stretch his strained muscles, to pick his own food out of the fridge, to go to the bathroom by himself and to just get out of that boring bedroom for a while. At first he felt a little light-headed, but it got better. He even became very handy in hobbling around; balancing his weight on his good leg as much as possible, despite the pain it caused him in his shoulder. Yes, it felt good to be mobile, independent and on his own again. The only thing missing was a nice bottle of his favourite beer, but he knew that was also on the 'not to do' list.

Pouring himself something to drink, he sank on the couch in the living room. He would rest here for a minute. The walk through the house had taken more of his strength than he thought. His shoulder was aching unmercifully and he breathed in short puffs in an effort to control the pain. Leaning back, he closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to pass. Finally it abated and Jack fell asleep.

A couple of hours later, Jack woke up, groaning after unconsciously moving his sore leg too much. Evening was setting in and it was getting dark outside. Sitting up, Jack clutched at his shoulder. He'd better take one of those damn pills Janet had given him. He swallowed one with the remains of the drink he'd left on the table. Feeling his stomach growling, it occurred to him that it was Friday. Damn! If his memory was correct, this was pizza-night with his team. They gathered for pizza every other Friday, if their duties allowed it. Jack shivered at the memory of his team. Shit! Daniel and Sam probably had no idea of what was going on. He'd missed the barbecue last week and even more, he'd missed the Major's birthday too. God, after the events of the last missions, he'd really blown it with them. Daniel had not treated him normal ever since. Sam, he could tell that by the way she acted, was also having a hard time. The barbecue was meant to re-establish their relationship, but he'd ended up missing out on that. That was just what he needed. How the hell was he gonna make things up to them? How had he got himself into this mess anyway?

It had started all on Edora; he knew that for sure. His team had worked day and night for three months to figure how to get him back. He, on the other hand, not daring to hope they would, tried to build a new life on that planet. Not used to sharing his feelings with anybody, he'd never taken the time to explain. How could he have hoped for them to rescue him? God, he'd hoped his team-mates would come to his rescue, after the parachute mishap somewhere in the deserts of Iran. He'd hoped for nine days, crawling every night, not able to walk with those broken bones. He'd hoped every single day, struggling to stay alive in his self made shelter to protect him against the sun. They hadn't shown up. He'd made it, barely alive, on his own. How could he hope for them to rescue him? After he was shot in Iraq, he saw his team-mates leave. He'd hoped for them to get him out of that stinking prison. For how long had he been hoping? He couldn't even remember. Nobody came to his rescue. He'd made it; he'd survived, on his own. He couldn't hope, back on Edora. He was too afraid to.

He should have hoped. His team didn't leave him on Argos, when he'd caught the ageing virus. They got him back. When he was pinned to the wall by that alien orb, Teal'c had refused to leave his side for every one of those 36 hours, while Daniel and Sam worked on a solution and finally found one. He should have hoped on Edora.

How could he have? He saw the chopper leave after his dive in the Japanese Sea somewhere too close to North Korea. He'd hoped for their return, desperately trying to keep his head out of the water. How many hours had he been struggling in that freezing water before being picked up by that Japanese vessel? He'd hoped for his team to rescue him, back in Colombia, when he was caught by the cartel. He'd managed to escape, hiking through that freaking jungle for more than two weeks, on his own, trying to cross the border into Peru. He was taught not to hope. He was taught to take care of himself, to survive on his own. He'd done exactly that, back on Edora.

He should have hoped though. When Charlie died and he was ready to blow himself up on Abydos, who had kicked some sense into him? It was the only non-military man of the mission, Daniel Jackson, his friend. He'd cared enough to reason with him, pleading with those blue eyes of his. After being implanted with a Goa'uld by that bitch Hathor, his team had come back for him. Hell, they'd risked so much, not even knowing the Goa'uld had been destroyed in the cryogenic chamber. Sam and Teal'c risked their lives trying to save him when he had that alien database planted in his brain, while Daniel never left his side. He'd been so blind. His team would do exactly the same thing for him he would do for them without hesitation. Not only because they were colleagues, but also because they were his friends. He'd let them down, when he returned from Edora. He'd let them down again with his solo mission to catch the traitor within the SGC.

Jack pressed his hands against his temples, trying to stop the growing headache. God, this was so confusing. It was getting too hot in this room; he needed some fresh air. Feeling the urge to see his friends, apologize and explain things to them, he decided to join them for pizza. He'd missed out on too many occasions; he wouldn't miss out on this one.

Daniel, Sam and Teal'c gathered in Daniel's apartment. Sam had brought two large pizzas from the restaurant near her house. Daniel headed for the kitchen to get plates and some drinks. Sam was just opening the box of the first pizza when somebody knocked on the door. "I'll get it!" Daniel yelled.

Daniel opened his door and stared in surprise at the man in front of him. "Jack. I didn't expect you." Daniel held the door open for his CO, looking at the floor. Several unpleasant thoughts ran through his mind. Daniel felt his anger rise and he wanted some straight answers. "Where were you last week? You didn't show up at the barbecue party. You could have called us."

Jack stepped into the apartment, trying not to limp in front of the young archaeologist. The ride in the cab and the walk over to the apartment had taken a lot out of him. He'd been shivering from the cold in the cab, but now the warmth of the apartment was getting to him. "I know, Daniel. Please, let me explain, okay?" God, this was not going to be easy. If they only could go to the living room, he needed to sit down. He was not sure how long his trembling legs would be able to carry his weight.

"You most certainly have some explaining to do, Jack. Missing the barbecue is one thing, but how on earth could you skip Sam's birthday?" His voice louder than before, it was obvious that Daniel was getting irritated. "You have a God-damn cell phone, Jack! Is it so difficult to make a call?" To emphasise his statement, Daniel pushed Jack with one hand against the shoulder.

Although it was no hard push, Daniel's fingers unwillingly dug into Jack's injured shoulder, putting too much pressure on the stitches. Groaning from the pain as some of the stitches snapped; Jack staggered back, trying to find support against the wall. Black spots appeared in front of his eyes and he broke out in a massive sweat. Clutching at his shoulder, his legs buckled beneath him as he slid to the ground, gasping for breath.

Daniel stared in shock at his friend, not understanding what could have caused him to react this way. He hadn't pushed that hard, had he? Something was wrong with this picture, very wrong.

Sam, who'd heard Daniel's raised voice, came to the door and was just in time to see the Colonel collapse. "Colonel!" she cried out, rushing to his side, desperately taking his pulse. "Damn! Colonel, what's wrong?" His pulse was weak and too rapid. She moved her hand from his wrist and placed it on his forehead. "He's burning up. Colonel, I need to check your shoulder, please?" she pleaded, gently trying to take the Colonel's cramped hand away from the area in question.

Teal'c quietly assessed the situation, went to the phone and dialled. "Doctor Fraiser. O'Neill has collapsed in Daniel Jackson's apartment. Yes, Major Carter is with him. Yes, here she is..." he walked over to Sam and handed her the phone.

Squeezing the phone between her shoulder and cheek, Sam managed to unbutton the Colonel's shirt and found the bloody bandage. "Janet, his shoulder is bleeding. He has a pretty high fever... no, he's still conscious. His leg ... what's wrong with his leg? No, I don't think so... Yes, we'll do that." Sam hung up and motioned Teal'c to help her. "Sir? Let's try to get you onto Daniel's bed, you'll be more comfortable, okay? Janet is on her way."

Jack nodded weakly. His shoulder was sending waves of pain through his body. He was trembling all over, feeling nauseous and was about to vomit. He felt Teal'c's strong arms support him as he struggled to get to his feet. Leaning heavy on the big Jaffa, Jack barely made it to the bedroom, collapsing bonelessly on the bed before passing out with a soft moan.

Handing his first-aid kit to Sam, Daniel wiped Jack's face with a cool, damp cloth. Folding it over, he placed it on the heated brow, looking at Sam's attempts to stem the blood from Jack's shoulder. Feelings of guilt were overwhelming and he fought hard to keep his emotions under control. "I didn't know, Sam, honest. I didn't push him that hard."

Teal'c's calm voice interrupted him. "You are not to blame, Daniel Jackson. There is no way you could have known."

"It still doesn't make me feel any better," Daniel responded softly. God, Jack looked terrible, his skin flushed, with red feverish patches over his cheekbones. "Is that infected?"

Sam nodded. She had seen the angry red signs of infection under the bandage and was deeply worried. Damn! What was taking Janet so long?

Janet Fraiser was running again. Gathering everything she thought she would need, she couldn't stop cursing. Damn, damn, damn! She should have known the Colonel would pull a stunt like that. What was he thinking, getting out of bed to go to Daniel's house in the midst of his recovery? No, what had SHE been thinking? That he would stay in bed until she told him it was okay to get up? Right, like he'd ever done that! She should never have left him alone, damn, damn. Normally she could see it coming. He would start complaining and being a real pain in the neck. A sure sign for her that she had to be careful. That she had to send him home eventually and better do it under her conditions, before he would leave on his own. This time, he'd not complained at all. She'd figured he was still too weak. Hell, she knew he was! That's why she hadn't expected this. She couldn't stop thinking however that she should have. Damn!

The drive over to Daniel's apartment took her less than ten minutes, but it still was too long for her liking. She found Teal'c at Daniel's door, waiting for her. She rushed straight to the bedroom, looked at the still form of her patient and then took in the stricken looks on the faces of Sam and Daniel. "What happened?" she asked, opening her med kit.

"The Colonel arrived just in time for our regular pizza-night. Daniel opened the door and... " Sam stopped in the middle of her sentence, not daring to tell what she'd seen. Sending a despairing look in Daniel's direction, she continued "the Colonel ... collapsed."

"I pushed him." Daniel's voice was soft, but Janet heard it anyway. Looking up at him, she noticed how he was withdrawing; arms wrapped around his chest, the guilt evident in his watery eyes. Approaching him, she gently put her hand on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Daniel. You didn't know. Now, if you don't mind, I need to examine the Colonel. You can wait in the living room." She waited until the three members of SG1 left the room before turning her full attention to her patient.

Daniel dropped himself unceremoniously on the couch. He pulled his legs up, crossed his arms around them and stared into nowhere. He desperately tried to regain some control over his emotions. His anger with Jack vanished, replaced by questions, worries and guilt. What had happened to his friend? When had it happened? Why didn't they know what was going on? How bad was he hurt? Was he going to be all right? Why had he pushed him like that, why wasn't he able to control his temper! Damn, look what 'd happened!

Sam silently sat down next to Daniel and patted him on his shoulder. Trying to catch his gaze, she softly tried to reassure him. "It's not your fault, Daniel. He's going to be all right. The Colonel is tough, he'll be up and running in no time. You'll see."

Daniel shook his head in frustration. "It's not all right! We didn't even know he was hurt. I was blaming him for not being with us. We should have been by his side, Sam..." Daniel was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Teal'c got up to answer the door and returned with General Hammond. The General looked questioningly at them. "Any news on Colonel O'Neill?"

Sam shook her head. "No, Sir. Janet is with him now." She nodded in the direction of the bedroom. Obviously the General knew what was going on. Why else would he be here? "Could you please tell us what happened, Sir?"

The General took in the worried expression on the Major's face. He also noticed the way SG-1's archaeologist and linguist sat on the couch. He sighed heavily, mentally kicking himself for not filling them in earlier. He'd been a fool to try to keep this from them. They had a right to know what 'd happened to their CO. Damn, it hadn't been fair to his Second either. Especially knowing how the Colonel cared and looked out for his team and how the latest mission with the Asgard, Tollen and Nox had driven a wedge between them. How difficult it had been for them to re-establish things, to rebuild their trust. It was his job to help them with that and now he'd only made matters worse! He'd done it because he was ashamed, afraid of what might have happened. Giving Teal'c a slight nod, he sat down.

Sighing heavily, he began to fill them in. "Somebody from my past showed up. He killed my team in Beirut back in '71... His name was David Moser. He wanted to get revenge on me once again by repeating history and taking out my Second. Last week, he placed a bomb in the Colonel's house, which the Colonel disarmed successfully. Next, Moser shot Colonel O'Neill off the road. Luckily, the Colonel wasn't hurt too bad..." He paused for a second.

"What? Some crazy psycho was after Jack? To kill him, just like that?" Daniel, always searching for the best in people, couldn't believe what he just heard.

"Well, you know Colonel O'Neill. He didn't wait for Moser's next move; he started hunting him down. He was pretty close when Moser managed to shoot him, again. After that, he took him to an abandoned house, just outside of town. Apparently, the Colonel managed to untie himself and they got into a fight. Moser stabbed him in the thigh, then threw the knife into his shoulder. I arrived just in time to stop Moser from killing him. When I turned my attention to the Colonel, Moser got up and tried to shoot me. The Colonel was faster. He pulled the knife from his shoulder and threw it back at him, hitting him in the stomach. That's when Teal'c came, just in time to zat Moser."

Sam looked stunned from General Hammond to Teal'c. She tried to comprehend the whole story. "You were there?" she asked Teal'c. "Why, I mean ... how did you know?"

"I overheard a conversation between the General and O'Neill, Major Carter. I followed General Hammond, hoping I could be of assistance."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Daniel was still shocked by what he'd heard.

"I am to blame for that, Doctor Jackson. I ordered Colonel O'Neill, Teal'c and Doctor Fraiser to keep it to themselves. I'm sorry, I guess I should have informed you sooner." The General bowed his head, embarrassed.

Daniel looked at the General. "So Jack didn't show up at the barbecue last week because he was shot. He wasn't at Sam's birthday party because he was stabbed. He finally shows up at pizza-night and I push him so hard that he collapses. Well, this is just great. God, he could have been killed by that maniac and we wouldn't have known a thing about it!" He felt so incredibly stupid and guilty. He'd been jumping to conclusions, judging his friend without knowing what was really going on. What a friend he turned out to be! Defeated, Daniel leaned back, closed his eyes and rubbed his aching temples. Why couldn't he have had more faith in his friend? He should have!

"We'll work this out, Daniel. The Colonel will understand, I'm sure of that. It's going to be all right, I promise..." Sam whispered, patting on his arm. Knowing how hard Daniel had been on the Colonel during the last week, she understood his feelings pretty well; especially since she'd been blaming her CO for a couple of things herself. She looked up when Janet re-entered the room.

Janet didn't look surprised at the sight of General Hammond. Nodding in approval at Teal'c when he quietly asked her permission to go to the bedroom, she addressed the others.

"The Colonel's shoulder is badly infected. He has a very high fever. I gave him some very strong antibiotics to help him fight the infection and Ibuprofen for the fever. His leg is swollen from putting too much weight on it, but I'm not too worried about that right now. I am mostly worried about the fever. If we don't get that down, he can go into shock or start having febrile convulsions or both." She waited a second as if to make sure they understood her, before adding "I need to take him to the infirmary, Sir. It's too dangerous to keep him here."

The General nodded. "Do whatever is necessary, Doctor."

"Yes, Sir. I'll make the arrangements for the transport right away." With that, she grabbed the phone and started dialling.

Daniel sat in an uncomfortable plastic white chair, next to his friend's bed. Teal'c and Sam had left him alone with Jack for a while, both knowing he needed it. It was awfully quiet in this part of the infirmary; the only thing he heard was the constant beeping of the monitor and Jack's irregular breathing. Daniel took Jack's hand in his own, fully aware of the heat that emanated from his friend. Silently, he watched as tremors shook his friend's body, hoping desperately that they would cease soon. How many times had Jack sat in this same chair, waiting for him to open his eyes? How many hours had Jack been by his side, refusing to eat or sleep until he knew Daniel would be all right? Smiling slightly at the memory of his friend's stubborn attitude, Daniel took the dry, warm cloth from Jack's brow, rinsed it in cold water and wiped the sweat from Jack's face. Daniel also sponged his neck and wrists before folding it up. He held it against Jack's forehead, feeling the heat radiating beneath his fingers. Sighing deeply, he leaned back in his chair.

His mind wandered back to last week. They arranged for a barbecue on Saturday. Jack had left the base on Friday, had disarmed a bomb in his house and was shot. Janet had filled him in on the details. How she and the General had found him, car crashed against a tree... God! He could have been killed!  That's why Jack wasn't home for the barbecue. He'd probably slept in late that day and obviously started his search for this Moser-guy. Knowing how determined Jack must have been to catch this guy, Daniel could understand he could forget about the barbecue. Yet he'd blamed him, not knowing the truth. Jeez, he'd been so pissed off! Why couldn't he have had more faith in his friend? Why didn't he realize something important must have come up? Jack would never turn them down without a reason; he knew that!  What had he been thinking! Ashamed, he remembered how Sam had tried to defend Jack and how he had waved her off. He should have listened to her; he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions that fast! Damn! What kind of a friend was he anyway? Why the hell had he pushed him like that?

Jack moaned softly and started twisting and turning restlessly. Daniel was by his side in no time, grabbing the older man's hand again.

"Easy, Jack, easy. It's going to be all right. You'll be complaining and annoying everybody soon, I promise..." Daniel wished Jack would open his eyes and start that attitude right now. Instead, Jack kept tossing and turning, one hand clutching the sheets. He murmured incoherently; Daniel couldn't make out the words. Reaching over, he grabbed the cloth again, rinsed it in cold water and repeated the same procedure in an effort to cool his friend off. It did settle him for a while and he seemed to relax under Daniel's touch, but then he struggled to get up. Gasping for breath, he opened his eyes and looked frantically around him. His vision was blurry and he was too confused to recognize his surroundings.

"Daniel!" he rasped. The panic was evident in his voice and dazed eyes.

Daniel gently placed one hand on his uninjured shoulder and tried to push his friend back into the pillows, reassuringly patting the man's arm with his other hand. "Ssssh, I'm here, Jack. Easy now, try to rest, okay?"

Although not strong enough to fight, Jack still struggled to escape from Daniel's grip, shaking his head in frustration.

"No... no... no!  ... Not ... Daniel!" he gasped. With a soft moan, he stopped fighting, his body going limp and Daniel was able to ease him carefully back down.

"I'm here, Jack. I'm not leaving you. Everything will be all right." Daniel tried to keep his voice calm and steady, although he winced at the sound of his friend's hoarse gasps.

Janet rushed into the room, having heard the commotion and immediately checked the Colonel's vitals.

"Damn! His fever is still too high. Maybe this will help..." she said mostly to herself, injecting some new medication into one of the IV's. When she was finished, she noticed the exhausted and haunted look in Daniel's eyes. "How are you doing? You want to rest for a while?"

Daniel tiredly shook his head. "I'm not leaving him. I'll be okay. It's just ... so strange. Usually, it's me in that bed and him, you know, making sarcastic jokes and stuff. Anything, to wake me up. He would even order me to open my eyes..."

Janet smiled briefly, knowing all to well what he meant. "He's strong, Daniel. He'll fight this. It will just take a while." She tried to determine whether he believed her or not.

Daniel stared at the prone form on the bed, nodded slightly and shrugged his shoulders. "I know. He was calling out my name, Janet. Panicking... said no, no, no, not Daniel. What was that all about?"

Janet shifted uncomfortably from one foot onto the other. Knowing the damage in the relationship between Colonel O'Neill and the young archaeologist, she weighed her options. If she told Daniel, would that make things better or worse? Deciding time would tell and Daniel did have a right to know, she made her decision and gathered something from the drawer beside the Colonel's bed. She handed it over to Daniel. "I found this in the Colonel's pocket. I think that answers your question."

Daniel's eyes widened as he saw the plain, bold letters. "WHEN I'M THROUGH WITH YOU....  GUESS WHO'S NEXT?" Holding his breath, he slowly turned the picture over, knowing instinctively what would be there, but needing the confirmation of his fear. He blinked at the sight of his own picture, taken outside of his apartment building. Shocked, he fell back in his chair, gasping for air. "Oh, my God!"

Speechless, he sat there, watching Janet rinsing the cloth in cold water, wiping the sweat soaking Jack's body. She pressed the cloth against Jack's forehead until she felt it turn warm. Rinsing the cloth repeatedly, she kept sponging