Warning Signs
I sneaked.
I crept through the corridors of my own base like an escaping convict, my eyes shifting, constantly scanning.
Scanning for what, you might ask?
The Doc. Janet Fraiser.
Scary woman.
Undetected and with a sigh of relief, I took the elevator to the mountain’s upper levels, heading for the firing range. I had successfully escaped her clutches.
I was very proud of myself. I had successfully escaped the clutches of a woman who was at least three feet shorter than me. Yeap – kudos, Jack. Give yourself a pat on the back.
I reached my goal – the range up on the NORAD levels, and walked in to find Sergeant Morley standing with a small group of people, none of whom I recognised.
“Sir.” He came to greet me, smiling. “I was just explaining to the others that I had asked you to join us.”
That must have been interesting.
“And how did they take it, Morley?” I smiled back, interested to hear his answer.
“Well, to be perfectly honest General, they thought that I was joking,” he replied, with a laugh. “I’ll introduce you.”
The group were a mixture of officers and other ranks, the highest being a captain. I noticed they were all NORAD staff.
“Didn’t you say there was someone from the SGC on the team?” I asked Morley.
“Yes sir. Sergeant Ramez, but he’s on leave at the moment.”
I nodded. I knew the man, one of the SFs that regularly guarded the gateroom. I could see the others eyeing me, looking worried. I didn’t blame them. For a minute I wondered if this was such a good idea, but Morley cut into my thoughts.
“Shall we start? Would you mind beginning, General?”
“Sure. Let’s see if I’m good enough for the team.” It was cruel, but I couldn’t resist the comment, watching all eyes shift rapidly away from mine. “Rapid fire?”
He nodded, and I moved to the firing position. I waited for the range officer’s command, then, controlling my breathing, fired on his signal.
The team looked over at my target, and I waited for the verdict. I admit to being a little concerned at the result myself. It had been years since I had last shot in competition, but I was pleased to see the ten shots were all neatly grouped within the center ring of the target.
Finally Morley spoke.
“May I ask what marksman classification you are, sir?”
“Expert, Sergeant.”
Eight faces broke into beautiful smiles.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I wandered slowly down the corridor towards my quarters, tired, but very pleased with myself. The past hour had been an enjoyable break from routine, and I had agreed to be at the next team meeting in a few days time, unless something unforeseen arose. It seemed that there were a couple of matches scheduled, one at Peterson, and the other between us and the Canadian’s NORAD team. Our team had lost their previous five matches.
I was the secret weapon.
It was a nice feeling, being a secret weapon, especially here on Earth. There were enough secrets about my life at the moment, and certainly enough weapons, but this was different. This was harmless fun, and there hadn’t been nearly enough of that lately.
As if it was deliberately reminding me of it’s reason for existence, the scar across my stomach began to itch like crazy. I opened the door of my quarters, reaching up to ease the muscles in my shoulder, to be greeted by the harsh tones of the telephone.
“O’Neill.”
“General.” I groaned at the sound of Janet’s voice. “I’ve been trying to contact you for quite a while. Would you please come to the infirmary.”
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
“You’ll have to stay here, at least overnight, sir. The wound appears to be slightly infected. I’ll start you on a course of antibiotics and see how it develops.”
I was worried. The Doc hadn’t been angry, she had examined me silently, her face grim.
“I thought that it was almost healed?”
That got a reaction.
“Well, it would have been by now if it wasn’t for that the effect of G forces on it. What were you thinking?” I saw her visibly pull herself up short, and watched as her face closed down again. “Sorry, General.” Her body language screamed concern, even if her tone didn’t. “I would like to take some x-rays, just to be on the safe side, so would you please change into a gown.”
For once I didn’t argue, meekly obeying. I had to be honest with myself – I wasn’t feeling one hundred percent, and hadn’t for a while. There was a nagging pain in my chest I had put down to tiredness. Now I wasn’t so sure.
After the x-rays, as befitted my superior officer status, I was given a private room, where I waited, rather impatiently, for the Doc to come back. When she did, she was as unemotional as before. She began speaking before I even had a chance to open my mouth.
“Have you had any shortness of breath, or chest pains, sir? Any soreness in your upper arms or shoulders?”
I eyed the papers in her hand, trying to use my Super General Vision to read them. It didn’t work. My hesitation didn’t impress her, that was obvious.
“General, have you had any of the symptoms I have just described?”
I muttered a ‘yes’.
“Which?”
“Chest pains.” Okay – I muttered that too.
“Anything else?”
“My right shoulder’s been hurting, feeling a bit numb.”
Her eyes flared. “And you didn’t think that it was important enough to tell me!”
I couldn’t meet her eye. I didn’t want to admit that I had recognised the symptoms, and knew all too well what they meant. My father had died of a heart attack at fifty-three. I’m afraid I had taken the easy path of ‘ignore it and it will go away’; after all, it could have been the knife wound.
Couldn’t it?
I felt a trembling hand on my arm, and I looked up into the Doc’s face. It was then that I realised – she was really, really angry. Absolutely furious. She pulled an x-ray out from amongst the wad of papers, and waved it in my face.
“You have developed a clot, most assuredly as a result of your injury, and it is now floating around your circulatory system. It is dangerously close to your heart, and if it travels any further it could cause a heart attack. It probably developed after your little jaunt in the plane. Those symptoms were warning signals that something was wrong. You chose to ignore them. You, General sir, could die at any second. I have arranged for you to have surgery to remove the clot asap. Now just stay there, lie still, and don’t say a word. I’ll be back.” She turned to leave, but swung around as she reached the door. “Court martial me if you want, but I have to say it. You are an idiot.”
She walked out, and left me sitting speechless on the bed.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I was in and out of the operating theatre before I even had time to catch my breath. Keyhole surgery is a miracle of modern science.
So here I was, once again in the little private room I was beginning to see as a home away from home. Sad really.
I was still a little out to it, the remains of the anesthetic buzzing around in my system like a slowly droning bee, when the Doc paid me a visit. She opened the door gently, and quietly came up to the bed, pulling out a chair as she did so. I waited until she had settled herself before speaking.
“Sorry, Doc.”
“I’m sorry too, sir.”
We both sat there. I couldn’t think what to say next, and it was obvious that the Doc couldn’t either. Finally she broke the silence.
“Do you realise that if we hadn’t found the clot in time, and you had had even a small heart attack, it would have been the end as far as being on the offworld roster, perhaps even the end of your career?”
I had thought of that.
I nodded.
Janet looked me straight in the eye for the first time since she had entered the room. “I was just so worried. I can’t believe that you didn’t come to me. That you would endanger your health like that. I still don’t understand it.”
She deserved an explanation. For once I would have to give one. Not something that I normally do.
“I was scared, Doc.”
I saw the surprise.
“I find that hard to credit, sir. I’ve never known you to be scared of anything.”
I thought about all the times that I had been terrified over the years. I must have hidden it better than I thought.
I explained about my father. He had the heart attack on the golf course, with no one there that knew what to do. He had died before the ambulance arrived.
When I had finished speaking, we sat silently again. I know I was thinking about all the years I had missed because my father did what I had done, and ignored the warnings. I was lucky to have the Doc watching out for me.
This time I broke the silence first.
“Thanks, Doc.”
“I was just doing my job, sir.” Her smile belied her words. “I ordered a complete series of cardiovascular tests. There is no sign of any damage what so ever. As a candidate for a heart attack, I would have to put you down the bottom of the list.” She reached her hand forward, and put it on my arm like she had before, except this time it wasn’t trembling. “You should be completely recovered in a few days. The infection is already clearing, and, if it continues to do so, I’ll release you from the infirmary tomorrow, but I want to be perfectly clear here,” she raised her voice and gave me a glare that would be a lethal weapon if it could be harnessed, “if you don’t rest, and I mean no flying planes, visits to the gym, or any other little adventures, I will personally see to it that you are sedated until you are completely healed.”
I had a sudden thought.
Crap!
“Ah, Doc?”
The atmosphere grew icy.
“Yes, General O’Neill?”
“I sort of promised…”
“Promised what?”
I took the bull by the horns and hurried on. “That I would compete in a shooting competition.”
“When?”
“The match is in a couple of weeks, but I should go to the practice sessions before then. The next one is scheduled in two days.”
“No.” I quailed under her glare. If she had thought I wasn’t scared of anything, she had just found proof to the contrary. “No way are you going to exert yourself in any way within the next few days. I meant what I said, sir.”
“How about the match itself?” I told her about our team losing so often.
And to Canadians.
I think that it was the Canadians that clinched it. I managed to persuade her that, given a clear bill of health, I could compete in the match at Peterson. She left me, but only after she had made me promise to get some sleep. I didn’t have any problem with that – my eyes were already shutting as the door closed behind her.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
There was just one thing that I had forgotten.
“Jack? What’s going on? Why are you back in here?’
“Sir?”
“Are you unwell, O’Neill?”
For cryin’ out loud! I opened my eyes and met the concerned gaze of my team.
“Sorry, sir. Did we wake you?”
“Nah, Carter! Ya think!” Okay, I was a little testy, but it was mainly because of guilt. I had completely forgotten about them.
“So why are you in the infirmary, Jack?” Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, his classic “I’m sure I’m about to hear something I don’t like” pose.
I sat up, stuffing the pillows behind my back, trying to sort out what I should say. I could just imagine the reaction if they found out, they wouldn’t let me out of their sight for weeks. Damn mother hens.
First – check the lie of the land.
“Didn’t Janet tell you?’
“No, sir. She just told us that you were staying here overnight.”
I smiled disarmingly. “There’s nothing to worry about. I just overdid it a little, and the wound has a slight infection.” Seeing the look on Carter’s face, I hurried on. “Nothing serious, it’s already clearing up, but the Doc’s making me stay here as punishment.” I wasn’t lying. I just was being selective with the truth.
I watched as the worry left their faces, to be replaced by amusement. Just General O’Neill being his usual self and getting into trouble.
Sometimes it helps to have a reputation.
I managed to get rid of them by pleading tiredness. Considering that I had been asleep when they had arrived, it wasn’t hard to do. After they left I lay there and thought about how close I had come to death.
I had come close to death plenty of times before, in fact, I had been up close and personal with death more than once. This time it was different. This time it had been because of my own stupidity. Sure, I’d made mistakes before, and almost died because of them, but this time I couldn’t blame anyone but myself. They say forewarned is forearmed, but in my case forewarned was forgotten.
I had learnt something very valuable today.
As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about the lesson.
Canadians deserve to be beaten.
I fell asleep with a smile on my face.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The team wasn’t happy.
Not SG-1. The base shooting team.
I had contacted Sergeant Morley as soon as I was able, and explained that I was unable to attend the practices. I didn’t tell him why, just left him with the impression that I had urgent business. Which I did. I was determined to follow the Doc’s orders this time. I stayed quietly in my quarters on base, and then equally quietly at home. I got to bed early, didn’t drink beer or eat pizza, and rested.
I was bored out of my mind.
I know that Daniel, Teal’c, and Carter were worried at my uncharacteristic compliance, but I didn’t enlighten them.
No need.
I returned to light duties, finished up my paperwork, and waited, more and more impatiently for the Doc to give me the all clear. Finally – two days before the match at Peterson – she declared me one hundred percent fit.
I had a celebratory beer, and an early night.
Oh god! It had become a habit.
I wasn’t worried – I was sure that with a little effort I could break the habit, get back to my normal routine. But for the moment I would just sleep.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The day dawned bright, shiny, and new. Just like me. The shooting team’s secret weapon was all bright, shiny, and polished, ready to be deployed. Morley was clearly a very happy team leader when I joined the group at the entrance to the base. I arranged to meet them at Peterson.
My driver pulled up outside the main building, and I was soon knocking on the door of General Luken’s office. I was trying to stay as secret a weapon as possible, but there was still protocol to consider. I couldn’t just turn up on the base. Feathers would get ruffled. Fortunately, Dick Luken and I went back a long way.
After the normal pleasantries, I got down to business, and explained the reason for my visit to his base.
He seemed to think it was funny. I, as a secret weapon, took that personally. Then I realised something. He was dismissing me as a threat to his team. I realised something else as well. Although I knew most of the senior officers in the Air Force, they didn’t know me very well. Sure – we had crossed paths over the years, and in some cases become friends, but they had never really known what I did. Most of my work had been classified. I had hung around a little, had a few dinners in the mess, then flown out. Sometimes I hadn’t returned for months. Dick knew that I was at the SGC, but intellectually, I don’t think that he really had any idea what that entailed.
I headed on over to the range, Dick following along, still smiling. I left him in the viewing area, and joined my team, collecting some interested stares from the Peterson team as I did so. It was a gallery course, rather than a full day competition, which was one of the reasons that the Doc had agreed to my participation. The less than thirty minutes it would take me to complete my round wouldn’t be too tiring.
Morley kept me until last. I think that, even though my name had been listed on the team information, until he saw me step up to the firing position the Peterson team captain had thought that I was just an over eager senior officer cheering on his troops.
I just love the rapid fire section. Although there is a certain pleasure to be gained from accuracy, the adrenaline really doesn’t start to flow until that point. The control is still there, but so is the excitement.
I finished, stepped back and caught the eye of Dick Luken. He shook his head at me and gave a tight smile. His team was standing there, as if unable to believe their eyes. They had obviously expected to wipe the boards with us again.
They had been wrong.
I nodded back to General Luken, restraining my grin, my near perfect score in all three sections of the competition had clinched the match.
It doesn’t do to gloat.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
We celebrated while still at Peterson, accepting the congratulations graciously. I didn’t sit with the others for long, even though they seemed to accept me, I knew that I still made them uncomfortable. I didn’t have a problem with that at all, in fact I understood.
After a suitable length of time, I moved across to where Dick was sitting with two other officers.
He greeted me with a rueful smile. “Bit of a dark horse, aren’t you, Jack?”
How long had he known me? Twenty years? What exactly did he expect me to say?
I smiled back, and waited for him to introduce me to the others. One was the colonel who was the Peterson team’s leader. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to him before, and took the opportunity to comment on the excellent standard of his team. We started discussing future matches, talking about training techniques and the technical side of things. After a while, Dick and the second colonel left us to it, pleading other work. I almost laughed out loud, as I got the fleeting image of my eyes glazing over while Carter described one of her experiments, or Daniel talked about his latest finds.
We both agreed that the Canadians were going down.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
They found me in my office and surrounded me, circling like a pack of rabid dogs, snapping and snarling.
“Why didn’t you tell us, sir?”
“We would have been there for you, Jack.”
“Indeed, O’Neill. I am disappointed.”
Crap! How had they found out? Had the Doc said something? I knew that she had told Hammond – that was a given, but I had thought that I could keep my team in the dark. I should have known better.
I looked for a way out, hoping against hope that I would get an urgent summons.
None came.
“Sorry, kids. I didn’t want to worry you. It really wasn’t anything. The operation was only minor.”
“Operation?” Daniel’s voice was totally confused.
No! No no no no!
“What operation are you referring to, O’Neill?”
Shit! Shit shit shit shit!
“I knew there was something wrong!” Carter was triumphant.
Crap! Crap crap crap crap!
I lowered my head to my folded arms.
“We were talking about your competing at Peterson, Jack. What exactly are you talking about?” Daniel’s voice had lost the confused tone and was now definitely accusing.
Anything! Please, anything! Help!
There was no escape. I was trapped.
I kept my head down, in the hope that they would think that I had fallen asleep.
Did I mention that I was desperate?
A hard finger poked me in the arm. It hurt!
“O’Neill. We will not depart until we have an answer.”
Oh for cryin’ out loud!
The End
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