Keeping a Low Profile
I fingered the collar of my shirt, and tried to decide if anyone would notice if I took my tie off, just for a bit. It wasn’t like there was anyone who cared what I looked like, sitting here in this boxy office deep in the bowels of the Pentagon.
Better not risk it, I didn’t want another black mark against my name in that thick file the Air Force already had on me.
I sighed, pulling Lightbulb Request Form 132A subsection 24C towards me. The fact that there was a request form for lightbulbs was bewildering enough, let alone that they needed a general to sign it, although I suppose when you considered how many dollars were spent by us on them every year, it was only to be expected. Just like the form for pens, and the one for paperclips, and the one for printers, and the one for shoelaces.
Ahhhhhhh!
I was going crazier by the second. I was sure most of this paperwork could just as easily be done by a clerk. I knew I deserved punishment, but this was cruel and unusual.
I stood up, pushing my chair out violently, then sat again just as abruptly. If I walked out I would be playing right into their hands. They were waiting for me to make a mistake, that much was obvious, and I was damned if I was going to let them win.
Form 387D beckoned to me, and I signed on the dotted line. Wouldn’t want the canteens of the Air Force to run out of capers.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I packed up for the day dead on the stroke of 1700hrs, closing my briefcase, only the book I had brought to read during my lunch hour banging around in its otherwise empty interior, and strode purposefully out of the office, trying to look like I had somewhere exciting to go. The truth be told, the small apartment I had moved into when I first arrived in Washington was dull, boring, and claustrophobic and I mainly spent my off duty time either reading in a nearby park, or watching sport in some anonymous bar.
“Good night, General O’Neill.”
I nodded at Captain Hoffman, and smiled. It wasn’t the Captain’s fault that she had had me foisted on her otherwise smoothly running command and I had made an effort to be as pleasant as possible to her and the rest of my staff.
“Goodnight, Captain. See you in the morning.”
Into the same elevator I had ridden for almost three weeks. Along the same corridor. Through the same security checkpoint.
“Sir.”
“Thank you, Sergeant Kelly.” I handed the pen back and was rewarded with a genuine smile from the man. I don’t think a lot of officers here at the Pentagon bothered to remember the guards’ names, and he obviously appreciated the effort.
My car was parked where I left it, in its allocated spot. No driver for Jack O’Neill now. Just another senior officer, shuffling paperwork all day. Just for a moment I let myself give in to the despair, shutting my eyes and resting my head against the back of the seat.
No point sitting here.
I straightened, turned the key in the ignition, and drove home.
Tomorrow was also a day.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
My phone calls to my former team, now relegated to just friends by circumstance, had become painful and awkward. They couldn’t talk about anything except the boring parts of their lives, and there weren’t enough of them to fill in more than a few minutes. I wasn't in the loop anymore, my need to know having been cut up and disposed of like an overdrawn credit card. There was nothing to fill the gaps, no exciting tales from their ex-CO.
Over the last weeks I had become more and more concerned about what was going on back at the SGC. It didn’t help that Daniel had contacted me on my cell a few weeks ago, nervous as a deer in hunting season. The call had been short, cryptic, and extremely worrying. Since then his calls had become increasingly more frequent and even less revealing, until I was almost screaming from frustration whenever I heard his voice. Carter was no help at all, only calling a couple of times, and then avoiding any reference to problems with vague replies. As for Teal’c – apparently he was not dealing with the change in command too well, and had taken some time offworld with the rebel Jaffa. I found myself insufferably pleased with myself when I heard that. Teal’c certainly knew the meaning of the word ‘loyalty’.
The call I had gotten from Daniel yesterday afternoon had been particularly bad. It had been obvious he was desperate to tell me something, something he was worried about, but he couldn’t. We both knew my calls were probably being monitored, so he couldn’t even give me a hint, and I knew not to ask. At least I knew Carter and Teal’c were okay, that much he had said.
Sitting at my desk, I kept replaying the conversation over and over again, trying to interpret Daniel’s words for hidden meanings, and worrying.
Worrying.
I couldn’t go running back to the SGC to find out what the problem was and I didn’t have anyone to ask.
There was nothing I could do, but that didn’t mean I could just sit back and do nothing. So I did the only thing I could do under the circumstances.
Worry.
I wasn’t getting any work done, and it kept coming. By mid morning I could tell Captain Hoffman was beginning to be concerned. Hell, I was concerned too, and about more than a few pieces of paper.
Enough was enough. There was no point sitting here brooding.
“I’m going to the canteen for lunch, Captain.” I saw her start of surprise, but she knew better than to say anything. I’d been eating lunch in my office every day, and avoiding the Officer’s Cafeteria like the plague, there being no point in causing problems, but today I needed a change of scenery.
The place was packed, so I joined the queue and grabbed a couple of sandwiches without even looking at what I had picked up. An empty table across the room beckoned and I made my way over to it, acknowledging greetings from the few junior personnel that had obviously not heard I was persona non grata, but not stopping to talk. My coffee slopped over the edge of its container as I put the tray down on the table’s smooth shinny surface, and I pulled a napkin out to wipe the bottom of the cup before drinking. Wouldn’t want a black mark against my name for having a dirty uniform. I could see gossip being exchanged, it’s effect spreading out like ripples on water, as more and more heads were raised to look at me.
I smiled a grim smile into my sandwich, taking a large bite, and chewing slowly.
Ewwww! Cheese and tomato – not one of my favourite combinations. Oh well, it just seemed to suit the whole scenario, so I valiantly swallowed and took another bite, letting my eyes roam around the room, stopping on people I knew. I smiled pleasantly, and watched their reaction. Some smiled back, but most ducked their heads, avoiding my glance.
This was fun, in a perverted sort of way. How to not win friends and influence people, but it was better than sitting in that damn office.
I was looking down, deciding whether to forgo the processed chicken and mayonnaise delight I seemed to have chosen as the second half of my lunch, when I became aware that the ripples of whispering had become waves.
Now that was a sight you didn’t see often in a cafeteria. The Air Force Chief of Staff looked as out of place as I did.
I watched as General Jumper threaded his way between the tables, the now silent officers observing his every step with interest.
As his destination became clear I found my mind frantically cycling through all the possible reasons for his presence. By the time he reached my table I was finding it very difficult to hide my trepidation, but I kept my face passive, knowing my eyes were as cold as my anger.
“May I join you, General O’Neill?”
“Of course, sir.”
My polite formality could not be faulted.
An aide appeared, tray in hand, and I saw the same chicken sandwich sitting in solitary splendour on the small white plate. If there was ever a more flimsy excuse to sit with me, I hadn’t seen it. The man moved off, leaving his boss to talk to me in private.
He kept his voice low as we exchanged inane pleasantries. Yes, I was happy with my office. No, I didn’t need anything. Yes, I did find the Washington weather pleasant. Soon the normality of our conversation had bored any listeners so completely that the noise around us had grown to hide any words.
“I understand you’ve had a few calls from a doctor friend of yours”
I blinked up at him, Doctor? Images of Janet flickered through my mind, only to be wiped out by the emphatic look on the General's face. Doctor? Oh, Daniel. The expression on my face must have reflected my line of thought because Jumper raised an eyebrow at me. As if Daniel calling me would have been unusual. I handed him a neutral 'Yes." leaving him to draw his own conclusions.
"Has he hinted at anything amiss at your previous command?"
I could see the man was probing, blatantly and obviously probing. I wasn't going to give him what he wanted, and I was fully capable of asking questions myself.
“Should he have?”
“No, no. Just an administrative problem he seemed to have some concerns about.”
“Well, he was never keen on paperwork, sir. Unlike me.” I raised my lips in a smile, and was rewarded with an almost flinch from my superior. It didn’t stop me from worrying, but it helped. For Jumper to approach me like this something must be seriously wrong.
“How are things going at the base, sir?” I kept my voice low and pleasant.
“Fine, Jack, fine.” It was Jack now, and the eyes definitely didn’t meet mine.
What was wrong?
I decided to take the bull by the horns and just ask.
“Sir, I…”
Flashy white light. That feeling as if my stomach was turning inside out. The sight of Earth floating beneath my feet.
Damn, but it must be interesting back in the cafeteria right now. Pity I wasn’t there to see it.
“Greetings, O’Neill.”
I spun on my heels, grinning. Thor’s next words cut my pleased greeting off completely.
“I don’t appreciate having to transport you out of a room filled with people, General O’Neill. I am extremely annoyed.”
What?
“Ah…Thor, buddy, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
I could see my words surprised him, and his large eyes blinked. “I am talking about you ignoring my requests to talk. Each time I have visited the SGC I have been told you are unavailable. I can understand you have things to attend to at your nation’s headquarters, but what I had to tell you was important.” Thor’s recent informality seemed to have completely deserted him, but his voice was becoming more annoyed as he went on. “I know you asked that I give my information to Doctor Jackson, Colonel Harper, and General Vidrine, but I specifically requested to speak with you.” He paused for a moment, then lowed his voice again, looking at me with sad eyes. “If for some reason we are no longer friends, Jack, I would have hoped you could be honest with me, especially when so much is at stake.”
The pieces began to fall into place, and I found myself growing angrier by the second. They hadn’t told Thor I had been transferred, and it was obvious why. The Asgard were refusing to talk to anyone but me, and instead of telling them what had happened, Vidrine and the others had been lying to them. No wonder Daniel had been so worried.
I crouched down beside the command chair, bring myself to Thor’s level.
“Thor, I’m not in charge of the SGC anymore. I was relieved of my command almost three months ago. That’s why I’ve been in Washington. I was posted there.”
The Asgard blinked, and cocked his head to one side, clearly thinking over my words. “I do not understand, Jack. Why would they do such a thing?”
“I disobeyed one order too many, buddy, when I went through the gate to rescue SG-1. This is my punishment.”
Thor stood, his thin legs bending, looking almost too frail to hold him. He didn’t say anything for a minute or so, looking out the observation window at the planet below. I continued to speak, while watching him. “I’m sorry. You’ll have to deal with someone else now, I can’t help. Hopefully there’ll be a new commander appointed to the SGC soon, and things will be back to normal.”
I was surprised at the speed with which he turned, his voice snapping out at me.
“They can not be normal if you are not there. I will deal with no one else, and I have told your government that. I trust only you. You are my friend. How can you dismiss this so easily?”
I closed my eyes, shutting the sight of his hurt face away from me. “Don’t you understand? It isn’t my choice. I would give anything to still be in command of the SGC, but it isn’t going to happen. I’ve trodden on too many toes, and I don’t think you’ll be able to persuade them otherwise. My government does not react kindly to blackmail, even from an ally.”
“Is there nothing I can do?”
I nodded. “You can beam me back down, and then go tell Vidrine whatever it was you were going to tell me.”
“We have picked up communications between your planet and a Goa’uld ship in the vicinity of your solar system. I wanted to warn you that there are more traitors in your midst. When Doctor Jackson listened to our recordings of the messages he became quite agitated and was removed from the meeting.”
Oh hell, Thor was determined to tell me, despite what I had just explained about not being able to help. But given what the Asgard was saying, I wasn’t going to stop him.
“Who were the transmissions from?”
“We do not know, but they originated in your capital, and were from several sources. They spoke of Doctor Roberts as an employee of theirs, and there was some discussion about a ‘hit’. I did not understand the term, and it was then that Doctor Jackson became upset. He wanted to speak to you, as did I. I requested that you attend the meeting and was told the situation was in hand. When I asked that you contact me, and you did not, I was upset, thinking that you saw my information as unimportant.” He walked the few paces to my side and looked up at me. “I apologise, Jack, I should have know better.”
I had him play the recording to me, and listened to the cultured tones of at least three of my fellow countrymen and the superior resonating voice of some nameless Goa’uld. My blood boiled to think there were people out there crazy or greedy enough to risk their whole planet for the sake of their own interests. In some places the sound was barely audible, background noise of movement and other conversations intruding, but I could pick out the words enough to hear what Thor had told me.
A hit. I could see why Daniel had been so upset. It sounded like the government was trying to handle the situation with as little help from our alien allies as possible. I wondered if they had a lead to the source of the transmissions, or even an idea as to the target.
I wondered if I would ever know.
I could only promise to do what I could, and ask again to be sent back down.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The cafeteria had been cleared when I was beamed back, except for General Jumper and some senior Special Forces officers, the whites of their eyes showing. I raised my hands as their weapons were turned on me, and waited for Jumper to give the order to lower them.
It seemed to take forever, but eventually they were called off, and I found myself alone with my boss.
A very angry boss.
“Do you realise the problems you’ve just caused, General O’Neill? The security breeches alone are almost too serious to even contemplate.”
I stepped back, my hands clenched into fists behind my back.
“I didn’t ask Thor to beam me up, sir.”
“He wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t given him the idea he could come and go, and take personnel as he pleased. You have always been just a little too willing to go along with the Asgard, haven’t you General?”
I stayed calm as Jumper became more and more angry.
“He felt he had just cause this time, sir. He is concerned that his warnings are going unheeded.”
Jumper snapped straight back, his normally friendly face set in lines of anger.
“That is none of your concern now. You will confine your activities to those you have been assigned. You will speak of this to no one. Is that clearly understood?”
“What about the hit? Have you found out the target? Has the President been warned?” I couldn’t help myself – this was too important to just drop.
“General O’Neill.” He dropped his voice, and glared at me. “You will return to your office and remain there until I send for you. You will discuss what has happened here today with no one. I will tell you this, the situation is in hand and when we have some concrete evidence of anything the President will be informed.”
“But, sir….”
“Do you realise how close you are to a court-martial right now? Return to your office.”
I snapped a perfect airman “Yes, Sir!” at his glare, and marched out of the door, ignoring the curious glances from the people I passed as I made for the ramps, preferring to take the old fashioned way back down to my office, giving myself time to regain my composure. Once the door of the featureless room was shut behind me, I let myself slump into the chair, my head in my hands.
Now what?
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I must have sat there for an hour, going over and over what I had been told by Thor and listening to the copy of the transmission he had provided me with, the small recording device held in the palm of my hand, and concealed from prying eyes in my jacket pocket until now.
It all boiled down to one clear fact. There was going to be a Goa’uld sponsored hit on someone here on Earth, probably carried out by our own people.
The target would have to be important for the Goa’uld to be interested. There weren’t many who fitted that profile.
Jumper.
Hammond.
President Hayes.
George was currently overseeing the upgrades on Prometheus, and I assumed he had been fully informed of the situation. Even if he hadn’t, he was in space, and certainly not an accessible target for any Earth based assassination.
General Jumper obviously knew what was going on.
That left only one person out of the picture. The President.
I felt a hard lump in the pit of my stomach, as I realised the significance of what I had just heard – what had been hovering on the edge of my awareness since I first listened to the message from the Goa’uld ship, something that could be easily missed if you didn’t speak fluent Goa’uld. The background voices had been loud enough to pick out only a few mutterings, and if I hadn't been concentrating I would have missed them. Fortunately I didn't. One word had been clear. The Goa’uld word for ‘ruler’, a difference subtle enough to be mistaken for ‘lord’, one Daniel could have taken as a reference to their own leaders. For me that could only mean one person.
I couldn’t just ignore my intuition, it had saved my life far too many times in the past. I reached for the phone.
The words ‘I’m sorry the President is unavailable’ bounced around in my brain as I slammed the receiver back down. I had to warn Hayes. I tried every means I could think of to get around the problem, even going as far as calling to ask to speak with General Jumper again. Nothing. I was stopped at every turn, until I felt like I was just going around in ever decreasing circles.
I had been ordered not to leave my office.
I had to warn Hayes.
Oh for crying out loud! Why is it always me?
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I made it into the White House with no problem, my uniform and its intimidating array of ribbons enough to prevent any questions. Then I had to call on my experience, blending in with the passing staff, moving gradually closer to my goal. It didn’t matter how good the security was around the Oval Office, I had years of Special Ops experience, and numerous sorties into enemy territory over my years at the SGC to call on. I had also been taught by the best – The Ex First Prime of Apophis. The White House was a piece of cake compared to a System Lord’s palace.
The secretaries outside the Oval Office smiled at me enquiringly, well used to my visiting at all hours.
“We haven’t seen you here for a while, General. It’s good to see you again.”
I smiled, and propped my hip on the corner of the assistant’s desk, toying with the small bear she had by her keyboard. “Hi, Sandra. I’ve been a bit busy. You know how it is.” I gave her a grin and ducked my eyes back down as if embarrassed, watching the guard relax and lose interest in me. Just another man, old enough to know better, flirting with a pretty woman. “The President called me half an hour ago and asked me to come straight over. It took me a bit longer than I expected and I don’t want to keep him waiting. Okay if I just go in?” I was up, my hand on the door handle as I finished my speech, and her surprised face disappeared behind the door as I walked in.
The Secret Service’s reaction to my sudden appearance in the Oval Office was spectacular to say the least, and I had to disarm one of the two agents to prevent him from shooting me. I held him in front of me for just long enough to let the President see who I was, then released him with a shove and handed his weapon back.
“General O’Neill, what in god’s name do you think you’re doing?” Hayes pushed himself past the head of his security unit standing protectively in front of him to come towards me, ignoring the man’s protests. “And how the hell did you get in here?”
I held my hands out, showing my unarmed state, most of my attention still on the security detail. Another two agents had entered the room at my back, signalled by their chief, and I was making no sudden moves.
“I have received intel, Mr President, from one of our allies. It points to an attempt being made on your life in the near future.” I glanced pointedly over at the pistol aimed at my head. “Could you tell them I’m not a threat please, sir.”
“Aren’t you?”
That threw me for a moment but I replied with some anger, even though I knew I would feel exactly the same as he did if I was in his shoes. “I would hope you would know I’m not, Mr President.”
The moment of silence seemed to stretch forever, Hayes’ gaze weighing me up, then he replied, his posture relaxing. “Yes, Jack, I do know better.” He gestured to the four men surrounding me. “Stand down, gentlemen.”
“Are you sure, Mr President?” Their boss hadn’t lowered his pistol, his eyes fixed on mine, watching for an indication of action on my part. I had no doubt I would be dead before I could raise an eyebrow.
“Yes, Stan, I’m sure. If General O’Neill wanted to kill me, I’d be dead by now and there would have been nothing you could have done to prevent it.” The President gave me a frosty smile and I nodded slowly in response. “Now, what was it you wanted to see me about, Jack? Wouldn’t it have been easier to make an appointment?”
He gestured me to a chair in the corner and took one opposite me. I let some of the tension leave my body, and sat back.
“I tried conventional channels, sir, but was told you were unavailable, and it is urgent. As I said, I’ve spoken with one of our allies, and he has intercepted communications about an important person being targeted for a hit.”
“Have you told your superiors about this?”
“Yes, sir, I have. General Jumper was made aware of the threat some time ago, but didn’t think it warranted you being told.” I looked down, trying to find the words to explain the feeling of impending doom that was getting worse by the second. “The name of the target wasn’t mentioned, sir, and the source of the communication is being investigated, but I…”
The President held up his hand, halting my words in their tracks. “So if I understand correctly, Jack, you have come here, probably against express orders not to do so, to warn me about something that is already being handled by other means. You can see, given your current situation, that your actions could be construed as grandstanding.”
I sat, speechless, stunned that he would even suggest such a thing. I really didn’t know what to say in reply. My first instinct was to give him my resignation. If I wasn’t trusted I couldn’t do my job.
My job. After this little escapade, I’d be lucky to have one. Maybe my first instinct was correct – get my resignation in before I was court-martialled.
But that still left the target of the hit. I was certain it was President Hayes, and I would be damned if I was going to leave this office before he understood, regardless of the consequences to myself.
All this went through my mind in a split second, and I opened my mouth ready to reply.
The movement I saw from the corner of my eye was familiar and horrifying. The agent I had disarmed had kept his weapon in his hand, ready. That I understood. What I saw now wasn’t so easily explained. His finger was wrapped around the trigger and tightening.
I forced my still slightly weak leg muscles into action, launching myself into the President and knocking him to the carpet. The savage blow hitting the side of my head seemed to come well before the sound of the gunshot, and I lay there, weapons fire echoing in my skull, gradually fading.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
“I’m ordering you to get a doctor in here.”
The President sounded very angry, but whoever he was speaking to didn’t seem to care. I opened my eyes and tried to sit, but only managed a soft moan. A hand came down on my chest, pressing me gently to the floor.
“Jack, stay still. You’ve been shot.’
Tell me something I don’t know.
“I know you know, but you still have to stay still.”
Oh crap, did I say that out loud?
“Yes, you did.”
That too? Something isn’t right here.
“You’ve got a bullet wound to the head. Help will be here soon.”
That wasn’t the impression I got.
“Stan has locked down the Oval Office and refuses to let anyone come in until he is sure the threat to me has been completely neutralised. The assassin is dead, but he wants to be certain.”
“Right thing to do.” There, I could talk out loud when I meant to.
“Yes, you can.”
He sounded worried, and … oh crap, I was doing it again. Shutting up now.
God, my head hurts.
“Stan, we need to get him some help right away. I can’t stop the bleeding.”
There was movement around where I lay, and I knew the agents would be checking the room. The President’s face swam into view, anxious eyes searching and holding mine.
“I’m sorry I doubted you, Jack. This job’s gotten to me, and I’d find it hard to trust my own mother if she were still alive. I should have listened to you. This could have been prevented.”
“It’s okay.” I managed a few coherent words. “It’s my job.”
“Your job isn’t to get yourself killed because of someone else’s stupidity.”
I forced a few more words out past the obstruction in my brain. “Is. Done it before.”
I barely heard his answer through the soft pillows of white noise. “Yes, you have.”
I couldn’t even nod in agreement as the room spun and fogged.
“No!” Hayes’ shout was sudden and shocking. I blinked, trying to clear my vision, and watched, totally unable to do anything, as a struggle went on above my body, the President grappling with one of the Secret Service agents, a gun held between them. It was over in a few seconds, and I faded out again as something fell, the sound of a shot once again breaking the peace of the Oval Office.
Movement, sharp pain as I was knocked violently, a weight falling heavily across my torso. Everything came back into sudden focus and I found myself staring into the blank eyes of a man, his face inches from mine. His whispered words were loud in the silence.
“You’re mine, O’Neill.” The familiar coldness of gunmetal pressed against my chest, and I steeled myself for what was to come.
This time the explosion of the shot sent me straight down to hell.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
“Put more pressure there, sir.”
I felt hands, and something pressed so hard against my head that I thought I would pass out. I saw the face of the President’s security chief hovering over me.
“General O’Neill. Can you hear me?” He turned his head, speaking to someone else. ”He’s conscious, sir.”
“Jack. Hold on.”
I wanted to, but I didn’t think I could. Not this time.
Not this time.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
“O’Neill?”
Who would have guessed that heaven or hell would be peopled with little grey aliens? I wondered which destination I have arrived at, it was an each way bet considering some of the things I had done over the years.
“It is good to see you awake, O’Neill. I will call Commander Thor and your President.”
I lifted myself up on one elbow, holding the thin sheet that was my only covering tight as I did so, and watched the Asgard leave the room, before taking in my surroundings.
An Asgard medical facility. This I could recognise – I had spent enough time in them. Now I just needed to work out what had happened. My memory of recent events was sketchy to say the least. And what was that the medic had said about the President?
It wasn’t too long before my question was answered in the form of Hayes and his Security Chief, Stan. They took up positions alongside the bedlike table I was lying on, and I suddenly found myself sitting up slightly as the bed formed an incline beneath me. That certainly made things easier. Thor was with them, dwarfed by the taller forms of the two humans.
“What…” I couldn’t manage any more than one word before my throat seized up with dryness.
“Here, sir.” Stan took a clear container of liquid from the nearby table and held it out to me. I was pleased to see that my hands didn’t shake as I took it gratefully, sipping just enough water to clear my throat.
Hayes didn’t wait for me to speak again. He was grinning exuberantly, patently enjoying himself. “There were two gunmen, Jack. It seems I wasn’t the only target. I managed to stop the second one, but he was damned determined. Stan killed him with his second shot, just before he pulled the trigger.” For a second his face sobered. “It was close, Jack. A split second later and you would have been dead.”
“You almost were anyway, O’Neill.” Thor took up the story and as I turned to look at him I was surprised to find a considerable amount of emotion on his pale face. “I had been closely monitoring you since our discussion on my ship, and when I saw your life signs fading, I transported you up here. My medics were fortunately able to prevent your death, although it was very close.” His eyes crinkled a little. “Try not to do that again, Jack. It is not good for my health.”
I reached a hand out and touched his arm where it rested against the side of the bed. “I’ll do my best, buddy, but no promises.” He inclined his head, blinking.
The President spoke again, and I turned back to him. “Stan and I came along for the ride. We were trying to stop you from bleeding to death, and it seems Thor here was in too much of a hurry to pick and choose.”
“I apologise, President Hayes, but any delay would have been fatal to O’Neill.”
“That’s okay, Supreme Commander. Coming here, seeing this marvellous ship, it's an experience I wouldn't have missed for anything. Not that I expect General O’Neill to be shot to get the next invitation.”
“Gee, thanks, Mr President.” My joke was weak, but Hayes laughed nonetheless. I swung my legs around, and with the help of Stan’s steadying hand, was soon on my feet, the sheet held by one hand. “Could I get some clothes here, buddy?”
Thor reached down, and pulled a bundle out from a low shelf, handing it to me. I recognised my uniform, neatly folded, cleaned of any trace of blood. I smiled my thanks and turning away, quickly dressed. This was the President of the United States, and, despite having lost all sense of modesty after years in the military, there was no way I was going to display things better left unseen to the poor guy.
Finally decently clad, I looked over at my companions. “How long was I out?” I asked, as I moved carefully towards a seat, breaking protocol by sitting without permission.
“Not long, only a couple of hours.” Hayes replied, coming over to join me, watching as I took my tie from my pocket and looped it round my neck. “I was able to contact the White House as soon as I realised where we were, to let them know we were safe. According to progress reports, it seems the agents were sleepers, put into the Secret Service years ago to gain positions of trust. Whatever the organisation is behind this, it must be well entrenched in our government, and perhaps the military as well. The implications are enormous, and there will be very few people I can trust until those behind it are flushed out.”
I nodded. I had already considered just these facts before storming the Oval Office, and I understood the President’s dilemma.
“There is one you can trust, President Hayes.” Thor’s soft tones interrupted his words. “General O’Neill has proven that by his actions today. The Asgard have put their trust in O’Neill for many of your years, and it was with shock that we heard he had been relieved of command.”
“No, Thor. I explained that.” I tried to explain once more, knowing it was fruitless.
“I know. Jack, you did. But I did not agree. Your disobeying orders has once again prevented a disaster for your world. On Othalla you would be honoured. On Earth it seems you are punished. I find this difficult to understand.”
“That’s not how the military works, Thor. It relies on obedience to function.”
“Even at the price of initiative? Has this not finally been proved wrong in your case, Jack? Surely your value to your planet has been borne out by the fact that you were considered as equally an important target as your head of state?”
I didn’t get a chance to argue further. President Hayes raised his hand for quiet and stood to stand at the window. He stared down at our planet, clouds lazily swirling across the vast Pacific Ocean, and turned towards me.
“General O’Neill.” I stood at the formality of his words. “I hereby reinstate you to the command of the SGC, effective immediately. In fact…” He turned to Thor. “If you would be so kind as to beam us straight into the gate room there, Supreme Commander, I think it’s about time I had a look at this Stargate. General O’Neill can give me a tour.” He turned back to me, a mischievous smile turning his lips up at the corners, “That’s if he thinks his command is up to a sudden inspection by its Commander and Chief?”
I stood straighter. “Damn right it is, Mister President.”
The sparkle had just grabbed us when I heard his last words. “You will need to make room for another medal after today, General.” He tapped the front of my jacket.
Oh for crying out loud!
The End
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