Falling Over
I was very, very, very bored.
So far the only relief from the boredom of sitting at home waiting to be drummed out of the Air Force was avoiding my friends. I don’t know what part of “I can’t talk to you” Daniel didn’t understand, but for a linguist he sure was slow on the uptake. He had called within an hour of my leaving the base, asking why I hadn’t told him I was going. I suggested he talk to General Hammond.
It was only thirty-five minutes before he phoned again. I was surprised it had taken him that long. His indignation was almost palatable down the line. I cut him short and hung up.
He called again.
I listened to his message on my answer machine, and then wiped it. Then I listened to Carter’s message. I would have thought she understood, but no – just as slow on the uptake as Daniel.
Teal’c was the surprise. He turned up on my doorstep.
“O’Neill.”
“T.”
Great conversationalists, we killers.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“So I have been told.”
Mexican standoff. I eyed him, he eyed me. Any more eyeing and we’d have to get married.
“I can’t invite you in.”
“I understand.”
“You should go.”
“Before I depart, I find it necessary to ask a question of you.” He stood, solidly refusing to budge, probably the only person I knew I couldn’t physically move. I didn’t answer, knowing every action was being taped, every word recorded. “Had I been in your position, do you believe that I could have done something different? In the face of the memories of such deaths, do you think I would not have hesitated?” He spun on his heels, his large body moving with the grace of a dancer, throwing his next words over his shoulder. “I do not require your answer for I have already ascertained the truth.”
He left me standing, dumbfounded, in the doorway as he drove off.
That had been days ago. If it wasn’t for my pottery I probably would have gone mad. I’m a man of action, I needed to be up and moving.
Trips to the shops didn’t work. Wandering the grocery aisles and checking out clothing stores for new jackets and shirts only occupied a tiny amount of time. Lingering in shops only resulted in strange looks from the assistants. Going for a run was out, the rain was pouring down so hard even I saw the folly in going out in it. At least the cast eventually came off my hand, and the exercises to get my broken fingers back to normal were a welcome diversion. My face sported a new scar, running down the length of my cheek. I couldn’t decide if it made me look sexy, rakish, or sinister.
From the expression on the face of the young girl at the register of my local store, I’d go with sinister.
My house was overflowing with pots in all different shapes and sizes by the time I got the call.
Washington in one week.
Dress: formal.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
I woke two days later to total chaos. The beer bottles had lined themselves up along the kitchen windowsill and the cleaning elves hadn’t done their job.
I just hoped the surveillance team was finding the sound and vision of me doing housework, while alternating between throwing up and swearing, as fascinating as I did. I sort of felt sorry for them as I groaned my way around the house picking up bottles and placing them gently and very quietly in the trash.
My moment of indulgence over, I settled down to do some serious planning. I had plenty of time to think over Teal’c’s words, and had come to the conclusion he was right. Sure, I had frozen, but only for a second. I was being too hard on myself to think otherwise. The shrinks would probably have a field day if they could read the reports on my last few years, Ba’al not withstanding. Add Ba’al to the mix and I was pretty damn proud I’d managed to react enough to kill him.
Anyone who knew me would know I wasn’t a coward. It was this accusation that had undone me, if only briefly, and, if I was honest with myself, I knew it wasn’t true. I could be accused of many things, but cowardice was never one of them.
There was another agenda being played out here. One lead by my enemies in places of power, and it was obvious who was at the top of my list.
Kinsey.
No way would I let that sanctimonious bastard destroy everything I stood for.
This was a battle he would never win.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The Pentagon had completely lost any mystic for me over the years. I stalked down the corridors, heading towards my fate with an emotion as close to coldness as I could achieve. The few familiar faces that passed me received only a brief nod as I kept my thoughts concentrated on the task at hand.
That was all except one. One face I looked straight at. Straight into the smug, self-righteous face of Kinsey. He didn’t even try to conceal his grin of triumph as I walked towards him.
“General O’Neill.”
“Kinsey.” He frowned at my lack of courtesy, the people with him glancing at each other in surprise.
Every ounce of hatred I had left in my soul was distilled into the cold emotionless stare I fixed on him. He could have no doubt I knew who was behind this farce. A movement at the edge of my vision registered – one of Kinsey’s watchdogs surreptitiously reaching a hand towards his weapon, his trained sense for danger obviously sending up large red warning signals.
Kinsey turned away first, his face becoming pale in the artificial light. He didn’t speak again, just walked away. The watchdog was the last to follow, his gaze assessing and recording everything about me before hurrying to rejoin the quickly departing group.
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
The tribunal was made up of exactly the personnel I would have expected; General Hammond, General Vidrine, and General Jumper. Major Davis was looking a little lost in the exalted company he was keeping, as he sat at the end of the table and tried to look comfortable.
It was the first time I had seen George since I had left the SGC all those days ago. He looked tired and frayed at the edges, his face set into a frown of anxiety. I wondered what pressure had been placed on him since my suspension, and once more gave thanks that I was certain of his loyalty.
Vidrine was making notes on the pad in front of him, looking up at me before writing again, as if noting his assessment of my demeanour. I barely stopped myself checking that my tie was straight. Instead I waited at attention until Jumper gave me permission to sit, taking the chair across the wide table from them.
General Jumper began by explaining that the inquiry was to be held ‘in camera’ and asked if I would accept that. The nature of our work at the SGC made it impossible to do things in the usual manner, I understood that and agreed.
Major Davis read the cold facts of the mission out loud, as I watched Vidrine making notes, and Jumper sitting, his face pensive. George’s eyes were fixed on me, the sympathy in them shining plainly.
I was asked if I agreed with the facts as stated in the mission reports. Carter’s had been the epitome of military correctness, the facts stated plainly. It was what it didn’t say that was obvious to me. She hadn’t seen the details of my confrontation with Ba’al. She had been too far away. By the time she got closer it had all been over. Ba’al was dead and Thor was gone.
Daniel seemed to have had a similar moment of shortsightedness, Teal’c being the only one to state plainly that he had seen Ba’al use his ribbon device and Thor jump in front of the beam. No mention of my hesitation. I wondered what he would say under questioning.
A medical and psych report was attached, its bulk making it the largest document in the collection, and I saw it wasn’t just an evaluation of my state of mind during the mission, but a complete run down of my mental soap opera during my military career plus a list of my physical injuries. Just a glance was enough to turn my stomach, and I was intimately familiar with the facts already. The other generals barely looked at it, and I realised they already knew all the gory details it contained. It must have made for some unpleasant bedtime reading for them. Major Davis had been left out of the loop on this one, and I caught him going back to certain spots, re reading as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. Once his eyes met mine and he nodded briefly. I looked away. I didn’t need his compassion, even if I appreciated it.
We paused for lunch, the sandwiches I forced down in the cafeteria tasteless, the coffee bitter on my tongue. The witnesses would be called next. I knew I would have the right to question them, I had prepared for this. Carter, Daniel and Teal’c were the obvious ones, but I was unsure who else had been ordered to appear, Doctor Fraiser possibly, to report on her observations of my state of mind when I returned through the wormhole. I remembered how I had pushed past her, covered in my own blood and shut myself away with General Hammond. Not exactly the act of the professional military officer I was trying to make myself out to be. Then I looked at the people in front of me. They had known me, in most cases for years. What was I trying to prove?
I relaxed.
There was nothing any more damning in the face-to-face questioning than there had been in the reports. My team stuck to the facts, but still managed to show they supported me. Even Daniel came across as reasonable, reining in his emotions.
I wondered where this was all leading, there had to be more to this whole thing. Then the other shoe dropped.
The door opened and Jacob Carter walked in, looking slightly unfamiliar in his general’s uniform.
He avoided my gaze, looked down and lifted his head again. His eyes glowed briefly and Selmak’s voice rang out.
“I am Selmak. My host Jacob Carter will not speak, as I represent the Tok’ra at this inquiry.” I must have been the only one to be startled by this, the panel members sat impassively. Selmak continued. “The Tok’ra reluctantly ask that General O’Neill be removed from the SGC and any involvement with the Stargate Program. His recent actions have made this imperative. We feel he can no longer be trusted. The withdrawal of the Asgard from our galaxy has just confirmed this.”
Those bastards! The only snake I thought I could trust was the one being used to stab me in the back. Looking closer, I could see the telltale beads of sweat on Jacob’s brow, the tenseness in his body. This wasn’t Jacob speaking; this was the voice of Say’tar and Jos’van. This was the voice of all those enemies that I had made. This was even the voice of people like Kinsey. Jacob was just the mouthpiece.
George interrupted, his tone controlled. “General O’Neill has explained that the Asgard do not hold him to blame for Commander Thor’s death.”
“We only have his word for that.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. This betrayal was one too many. “And doesn’t my word count for anything?!”
For a moment Jacob’s eyes flashed, and Jacob’s voice came out, strained and hurried. “Of course it does, Jack. I believe…” then the eyes lowered once more. When they lifted, Selmak was back. “My apologies, gentlemen. General Carter is a little upset at his role in these proceedings.” He paused and turned to me. ‘As am I.” There was a wealth of meaning in his last words, bitterness at being the messenger boy.
Selmak straightened, his distaste for his task now clear. “I repeat – we insist General O’Neill be removed. The evidence is clear. He has lost the trust of the Tok’ra.”
“But not mine.”
I spun around, recognising the voice and stunned to hear it in these proceedings. The President stepped forward, closing the door behind him as we all stood. He stopped beside Jacob, placing a hand on the table edge and looking at me, before turning to the others.
“I apologise for the interruption, gentlemen, but I only just found out a representative of the Tok’ra was appearing before the tribunal. I felt that in all fairness a representative of Earth should also be heard. May I speak?”
General Jumper didn’t bother to look at his other panel members before nodding. “We would be pleased to hear you, Mr President.” He resumed his seat and we followed his lead. The President waited until we had settled ourselves before beginning.
“I will state firstly, that I personally have full confidence in General O’Neill.” He turned and looked me straight in the eye, his voice firm., “If he told me black was white, I would believe him. The Asgard are still our allies. Soon Commander Thor will return, and for this we should give thanks. If…” he nodded towards Jacob, “…our friends the Tok’ra no longer want to be our allies, so be it, but it will not be because of anything General O’Neill has done. He has my full support.”
When it was clear he had finished, General Jumper was the first to speak. “Thank you, Mr President. We will take your statement into consideration in reaching our decision.
We all stood again as the President turned to leave. “Thank you, gentlemen.” He smiled at me and nodded. “Jack.”
The message had been clear. The door shut behind him and the members of the panel exchanged looks. Vidrine looked a little put out, Jumper was trying to hide a smile, and George was openly beaming. Major Davis just looked stunned.
It was Jacob’s reaction that was the most interesting. The voice of Selmak reverberated from his throat. “I shall wait until you have made your decision before I report back.” He lowered his head and Jacob was let out to play. “I know you will make the correct one.” With a smile he too left the room.
There was a moment of silence, broken by a cough from Major Davis. He reached for the pitcher of water on the table and poured himself a glass, obviously uncomfortably aware that all eyes had turned to him.
“You have friends in high places, General O’Neill. Almost as many friends as you have enemies.” General Vidrine spoke for the first time during the proceedings.
“It seems so.” I took his words for the warning they appeared to be. This wasn’t over, not by any means.
“General O’Neill, do you have any proof that Commander Thor is alive.”
“Only my word, General Jumper.” I spoke calmly. “Which seems to be good enough for the President of the United States.”
“Very well. I would ask you to wait outside while we consider our decision.”
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
My friends were waiting for me when I left the meeting room. They hurried forward and clustered around, as if protecting me. I suppose they were. We were in enemy territory it seemed. Jacob was with them, his voice back to the down to earth tone of Carter’s father.
“Jack. I had no choice. We were ordered to say what we did. Selmak didn’t want to any more than I did.”
I studied his face, looking for any sign of deception, and could see none. I nodded and smiled, taking his outstretched hand, knowing that just the fact I could see no deception, didn’t mean that it wasn’t there. My mistrust was growing with every minute I was in Washington.
“Come on, kids. Let’s go get a coffee.”
“Shouldn’t you stay here, Jack?”
“I have the feeling that they will be quite a while, Daniel, and I don’t intend to stand out in the corridor waiting for them. I’ve done enough waiting over the last couple of weeks.” I spoke to the soldier standing guard at the door I had just exited. “If I’m needed send someone to get me. I’ll be in the cafeteria.”
He snapped a ‘Yes, sir!” at me and I felt his curious eyes on me as we walked away.
The five of us took a table on the edge of the room near the door and away from any listening ears. I took a long sip of the hot coffee and sat back trying to look relaxed and knowing I was failing miserably.
“How’s it going in there, Jack?”
“Okay, Daniel.’ I left it at that, looking carefully around. My internal radar was twitching almost out of control.
Something wasn’t right. Something was, in fact, very, very wrong.
We sat, my companions idly chatting while I sat, as still and as cool as a block of ice. It dawned on me that I wasn’t the only one feeling twitchy. Teal’c had the same air of alertness I did. Our eyes met, and signals were exchanged. I felt better for knowing that it wasn’t just me, that I wasn’t imagining it.
“General O’Neill?” The young lieutenant stood to attention next to the table. “Would you please return to the meeting room?”
I stood, the eyes of everyone else at the table on me.
“Good luck, sir.”
“Don’t worry, Jack.”
Both Carter and Daniel sent reassuring smiles my way. Teal’c stayed quiet, his gaze still surveying the room as I followed the young officer out.
“Take a seat, General O’Neill.”
I trying to gauge the atmosphere and failed miserably. Even George was expressionless.
General Jumper spoke. “I am pleased to tell you that we have found no evidence to continue this inquiry any further. Your permanent record will reflect this decision and General Hammond will convey it to the Tok’ra. What they decide to make of this is up to them and in no way will there be any blame attached to you regardless of any actions they may take as a result.” He paused and waited.
I stayed silent.
I wanted to know the real reasons behind this. Was it because they believed in me, or was it because of the President’s support? The answer was important to me.
“We see no reason not to take your word for what happened on the Asgard vessel.” This time Vidrine spoke. “As for your hesitation when confronted with Ba’al,” he tapped his finger on the medical report on the table in front of him, “in light of this, you should be congratulated for taking the action you did.”
This time I nodded. Perhaps I had been seeing conspiracies where there were none – a result of the stress of the last few weeks. I realised that the panel were standing, coming around the table. George was smiling, a genuine smile of pleasure. He strode toward me, his hand outstretched. I managed to pull myself to my feet as he reached me.
“I never doubted you, son.”
“I knew that, sir.” I felt his warm grip, and then he pulled me in to clasp me quickly to him. A pat on the back and he was standing back again.
“Shall we take this elsewhere, gentlemen? I think a few drinks may be in order.” General Jumper turned as he spoke, his smile wide. “Major Davis? You’ll join us?”
The major smiled back, looking at me. “I’ll be pleased to join General O’Neill for a drink, sir.”
“Then let’s stop talking about it and go.” General Vidrine’s dry comment brought a chuckle from Jumper.
“After you, Jack.” He opened the door and gestured me ahead of him. I saw my team in the corridor, waiting, Jacob with them, and began to smile.
The cry of outrage from Teal’c coincided with a hard thud against my chest, and I found myself inexplicably sinking slowly down the wall and on to the blue carpet.
My last thought was “Oh crap! Not again.”
o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o
This time I didn’t moan or groan or give any outward sign that I was awake. This time I lay there, listening to the beep of machinery, keeping my eyes tightly shut.
I knew exactly what had happened. I had been shot. I had known there was something wrong, but I had let down my guard and this was the result. So I lay quietly.
There was no pain. Just a dull ache in a tight band around my chest.
It must have caused quite a stir, having a General shot in the corridor of the Pentagon.
I drifted back to sleep and woke again to voices.
Important voices.
Angry voices.
“How the hell did this happen?!”
“We couldn’t have known, sir. It was totally unexpected.”
That was Jumper.
“You knew he had enemies. You should have been prepared.”
The shout must have brought a doctor or nurse running, because a sharp voice cut in. “You’ll have to keep your voices down, or leave. You will wake the patient.”
My turn. I knew who the second voice belonged to.
“Too late.” It came out a little softly for my liking, but still achieved the desired result.
“Damn. Sorry, Jack.” The President’s face slid into view as I opened my eyes.
“That’s okay, sir. I was awake anyway.” I swallowed and a hand held out a cup, a straw poking from the top. After I got my throat lubricated I continued. “I know I was shot, but I’d like to know who by.”
The bed dipped slightly as the President perched himself on it. General Jumper appeared, dragging a chair to the area free of machinery on my left side. It was he who answered.
“One of Kinsey’s body guards shot you. Fortunately Teal’c spotted him and tackled him as he fired. The bullet hit you in the upper chest and missed anything vital. Apart from losing a lot of blood there was no real damage done. You should be able to be transferred to the SGC within a couple of days.”
I remembered the man I had exchanged looks with in the corridor after my confrontation with Kinsey and knew that it must have been him.
“Why?”
“He perceived you as a threat to his boss. Kinsey denies any knowledge of his plan. He’s wiped his hands of him.”
No surprise there.
I had won the battle but almost lost the war.
I closed my eyes, barely acknowledging the farewells of the two most powerful men in the nation.
My last thought was of Doctor Fraiser.
She was going to be so pissed with me again.
The End
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