Chp 2: Colorado
After what seemed to Jack an eternity plus a few minutes, the plane FINALLY started to go down slowly. As the pilot was going through “the usual routine” Jack looked through the window to see the now tiny Colorado Springs Municipal Airport slowly swell in size as the plane lazily continued its descent. Jack hardly even shifted under the movement of going down, as he was so accustomed to the nuances of planes of all sizes.
If only he could so easily shake his fear of the future, and of his own feelings about Sam.
He hardly had to step off the plane and exit through the main entrance in the usual chaos to notice the “incognito” and “discreet” plain clothes officers with the limo sent to pick him up. Honestly, who were they trying to fool? Even if you forgot the fact that they had brought uniformed soldiers to escort him in, and you furthermore forgot that the officers themselves obviously had enough firepower to re-sink the Titanic judging from the obvious bulges underneath the cloths, the manner they carried themselves with would alert anyone who actually paid attention enough, military or no, to the fact that they could hardly be anything BUT incognito MPs.
Jack walked over to the limo, smirking, and said “Hello gentlemen, I take it you lot are the people here to escort me back to the ‘ountain. Who the HELL did you think you were fooling with the inconsistent shoddy disguise gig anyway?”
able to contain their surprise and one of them, who looked to be in charge, asked “How did you know that, sir?”
Apparently, the detail was surprised that anyone could see through their through and unremarkable disguises, and apparently they were surprised that instead of finding their charge, their charge had found them. Nevertheless, they were. Somehow.
Jack simply laughed and said “You lot are new to this, right? Most likely transferred from a frontline unit?”
Apparently, the guard unit believed he was Sherlock friggnin’ Holmes for that deduction, and their leader again asked “Yes, but again, how did you know these this? Was it something with the cloths or the ….”
Jack cut him off. “No, it is just that here are a few helpful pointers to remember: the purpose of a unit discreetly deployed in civilian cloths is; and I know this will come as a shock to you; to be Discreet! No uniforms, loose some of the guns; simple but effective is the rule, and FOR PETE’S SAKE! WHY THE HECK WERE YOU GOING AROUND ACTING LIKE YOU WERE! BLEND IN!”
“Uh, okay then.” Said the leader still a little bit unnerved by the General’s “Deductive Powers,” “But now can we actually get moving?”
“Yeahsureyoubetcha.” Was the response.
The guards raised their eyebrows and/or put on a look of surprise and confusion, then followed Jack into the car as he got in the back.
The ride was uneventful and relaxing, with any of his attempts to start a conversation about anything being shot down quickly and ruthlessly by the agents. Though he couldn’t say he was really disappointed. For the first time in months, Jack felt well rested, and at peace, a feeling that was getting rarer and rarer for him to find as each day passed. However, it only took a dozen words, spoken so that he could barely make them out himself, to shatter his tranquility.
“The time is coming, Jack O’Neill. Soon you shall meet your fate.”
“Who said that?”
“Sir, no one has said anything.”
Jack slumped back in his seat. His surface was a mask of calm, but inside, he was quaking. Who is this, why must I endure this hell every night? Why must I suffer? How can this be happening in Colorado Springs?
Said out loud, even he would have thought them stupid concerns. However, for a man who had been tormented for months on end by horrific visions of death, torture, and murder invading his dreams, this was no laughing matter.
He acknowledged rather than saw the car moving through the heavily fortified checkpoints of Cheyenne Mountain, the US’s most secret base on Earth, through the tinted windows of the limo. When the car finally ground to a halt, he briefly said goodbye to the agents (“Hey, cheer up, it takes skill to be so obvious while undercover.”) and got out and began walking almost like a machine, too wrapped up his own thoughts to pay more than minimal attention to the rest of the world.
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In truth, she didn’t know what to think.
On one hand, it would be like something of a reunion, with the old team finally getting back together.
On the other, she was not really sure she was prepared to see him again.
Yes , Samantha Carter, Colonel in the USAF, who could kick arse and take names in a fight, solve an impossible mathematical problem, save the world, and in her spare time fight a wannabe Genghis Khan in the duel ring just to prove a point, was afraid of meeting her Commanding Officer and best friend again.
How would she react? Would she be able to keep the cover up? Was she still convincing enough to fool him?
“Dammit!”
“Hey Carter, this is an Air Force base, not a Navy Port last I checked.”
Sam spun around to find Jack O’Neill in his civvies with one suitcase rolling along behind him.
“Sir, long time no see!”
To anyone else, it seemed as through the ‘Carter’ and the ‘Sir’ were simple ways of an inferior officer addressing her superior officer, or vice versa. However, with the two of them, it was more special, like a beloved nickname. Strange, but true.
He gave her the infamous Jack-smile that was notorious around the base. “It certainly has been a while.”
“I’ll go get into my uniform. So, when are we planning on going to Atlantis?”
“Within the hour.”
“Well than, I guess I better get going.”
Now alone, Sam had time to think about everything. Did she do anything suspicious, anything revealing? Damn. In the past he had been he commanding officer and her best friend, and while it was at that level, it was simplistic. But then her feelings had crossed a line they were never supposed to cross.
Age, regulations, troubled pasts, personal demons; all of these things and more barred the path, and most intimidating of all was the fact that he likely saw her as a friend and comrade-in-arms. Nothing less. But at the same time nothing more and they counterbalanced the times he showed proof that he may think of her in THAT way.. And it agonized her, so she played the part, and waited for a sign.
In about a quarter of an hour Jack had changed into his field uniform and had headed to the gate room. Filling the are were the usual suspects: Sam, Daniel, Teal’c, and Landry. And one unusual one. Jack did a double take And then another one. And another. He was still there.
Jack’s mouth hit the floor. He had seen that face many times before, but not like this. “I thought you retired sir!”
Standing with them was Gen. George Hammond, the original commander of SGC. And what was more was that instead of the usual white commander uniform he wore while he was in charge of the base, he was wearing a field uniform, and armed to the teeth at that.
“I did. It’s just that I decided to do an encore.” The commanding voice of the Texan said. “They let me on as a ‘Civilian Advisor;’ which in other words means I am allowed to ‘advise the Stargate Teams in their day to day operations.’”
“Which, when translated from Bureaucratic gobbledegook means that you get to horn in on some of the action too.” Jack summarized.
Hammond simply shrugged. “I can’t let you lot have all the fun, now can I? And I’m not military anymore, so you can stop calling me sir.”
“Ok than, SIR.”
Any further debate was obscured by the usual dialing and chevron count of the gate.
Then the empty frame of the Stargate was filled with blue light, and the six figures stepped through it
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Progress had been slow, as to avoid Western Allied scouts, the hated British Long Range Patrols, and of course the feared Gurkhas; Zhao’s men had to use the jungle as their road, occasionally getting a break and finding a trail unoccupied. Mostly, however, they had to move across the mud and were forced to deal with all the mechanical breakdowns and delays that came with it. It was already getting dark by the 21st mile mark, though they had only managed to advance 5 miles towards the Allied bivouac.
Günter was on the road checking the status of a few Type 89 Yi-Go Japanese tanks that had been “appropriated” from the Empire’s soldiers in the Spring of 1942. Right now they were stalling like hell, and seriously jeopardizing the advance. The digging crew had displaced about 8 feet of mud, but save one, the tanks were still stuck.
“Gunter!” That could only be one person and one person only.
“Gunter, how is progress on the tanks coming?” Zhao asked.
“Not very fast. The men are working hard but there is still a lot of muck to dig through.”
“Why not just leave them there?”
“There is the problem. The panzers have your flag painted on them in several places.” Referring to Zhao’s Horizontal dual color of yellow on the left and black on the right with the Chinese characters for power painted on the middle painted an inverted color than the one it was on. “One panzer; and the English shrug it off. Two panzers, maybe. Three panzers, and they will get suspicious. BUT EIGHT PANZERS! That would all but tell the Tommies that we are moving en-force. And if they discover where we are headed, than they can reinforce their….”
Günter cut himself off, as in the pitch black, he could have sworn he saw a red-orange burst of light in the trees. But then it was gone.
“Reinforce their flank?”
Günter merely nodded vigorously. “It’s just that I thought I saw something.”
“You look pale. The trip must be taking its toll on you. We are setting up camp in the shadow of a large tree. The British are heading back to their base, so there is no use standing guard here. Come with me, and we’ll settle in for the night.”
The two walked along the muddy ground.
“Now Günter, I need some advice on a load issue. A tree crashed and destroyed one of our trucks, thus leaving a Bofors 40mm gun and a Flak
36mm gun in the mud. We can only take one of them, and so I need you to advis…..”
Günter stopped paying attention, as in a tree ahead he saw two red-orange lights silently overhead.
His heart was beating rapidly. So the stories were true… He pointed a finger at the trees.
“THERE THEY ARE! I KNOW THEY ARE THERE! KOMMANDANT HE IS WATCHING US!”
“GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF GUNTHER! HE MAY BE POWERFUL BUT YOU ARE JUST BEING IRRATIONAL! YOU WERE A SOLDIER OF THE WEHRMACHT! And you believe little local tales about him like they are the unabridged truth! Now I AM a local, and those tall tales are nothing more than ghost stories. See!”
Zhao waved his hand at the pitch-black tree line. “There is nothing there! You are tired and you are seeing things! You need rest!”
“Yes, I guess I am. Rest would do me well.”
The two men walked on, not even looking back once.
If they had looked back, they would have seen two red-orange lights silently gliding across the trees on the pitch black night.
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