DISCLAIMER: All characters and property of Stargate SG-1 belong to MGM/UA, World Gekko Corp. and Double Secret Productions. This fan fiction was created solely for entertainment and no money was made from it. Also, no copyright or trademark infringement was intended. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Any other characters, the storyline and the actual story are the property of the author.
"Jaaaack!" Daniel's voice was barely above a whisper as a surprisingly strong hand tightened its hold on his throat; threatening to choke the life out of him. The quiet observer portion of Daniel's brain acknowledged confirmation of his friend's shoulder injury, evidenced by the use of only one hand, while the rational 'feet firmly planted on the ground' portion conceded that, even injured, Jack O'Neill was a dangerous man.
Jack's scream of rage as he attacked had been in Arabic. Once again, the observer side kicked in. Odd, he'd never known Jack knew any other languages, but the phrasing the injured man used was more than the conversational lingo picked up in some cheap guidebook. And in his pain and confusion, Jack had obviously mistaken one very surprised archaeologist for a former Iraqi tormentor.
The rational side of Daniel suddenly went into overdrive, effectively silencing the annoying observer. His vision was dimming. Not enough air. If he didn't get that hand off of his throat, and soon, he'd be dead, and Jack would be left alone with his injuries. Not a good thing. Jack could die!
Daniel jerked savagely to his right and backwards, pulling away from his friend, reasoning that Jack would be most vulnerable if he twisted quickly in the direction of Jack's injured shoulder. The strategy worked, but the subsequent cry of pain from his friend as he collapsed weakly back onto the cellar floor only served to increase Daniel's feelings of concern, and guilt.
"Look, at least tell me your name." Sam increased her speed to keep pace with the Euloean leader.
"Why? What purpose does it serve?" The man cast a curious glance down at the smaller woman.
'Okay, lost that battle, but the war's still on.' "Are the bindings really necessary?"
"Yes. They are."
"Oh for crying out loud. Talk about one track minds. We're not Goa'uld!"
"It does you no good to tell me, little one..."
"Don't call me that! My name is Major Samantha Carter."
"Fine. Major Samantha Carter, are your people able to run and speak simultaneously?"
A look of confusion crossed her face. "Uh, no?"
"Then you would be wise to be silent. The ground levels out just ahead, and we must pick up speed if we are to be undercover by last light."
"What happens after dark?"
His features turned grave. "The Redcaps."
"The what?"
Tiamon stared in surprise. "How is it you do not know of these creatures of the night? They appeared after the last Goa'uld assault. The elders teach that the Goa'uld left them as a plague on my people."
"I keep telling you. We are ..."
"...not Goa'uld. Yes, you've said that."
"Tiamon!" The leader's attention turned away from Sam, towards a small, dark man.
"What is it, Marne?"
"The sun is falling low in the sky. The men grow more fearful with each passing moment."
"I understand, Marne. We will go faster. Now!"
Sam groaned in frustration as Tiamon increased his pace, and Marne prodded her into increasing her own. 'Oh, this is gonna be fun.'
'It is as I suspected. Our captors are frightened, and have increased our speed in an effort to outrun their fear. Even though they have moved more than an arm's length from me, I can smell their fear. I do not know if Major Carter has reached the same conclusion, but she is an intelligent Tau'ri. I do not think their fear will have escaped her notice.
From my vantage point I can just see Major Carter's head. While this speed will cause me no difficulty, even though I am bound, I fear the same cannot be said of Major Carter. It will not go well for those guarding her if she comes to harm while in their care.'
The men surrounding him looked on in amazement as the increased pace of the march had no affect on the Jaffa. Teal'c showed no signs of strain ... no sweating, no gasping for air, nothing. It was not normal and those closest to the Jaffa moved to what they perceived to be a safe distance away from him. It was well-known among the Euloeans that one should never get too close to one of the Goa'uld.
Sam was beginning to feel the effects of the run. Under other conditions, the speed would have posed no problem, but with her hands bound she could not settle comfortably into a rhythm. Reluctantly she opened her mouth to protest, and was stopped cold by a scream in the distance. As one, the entire company froze in their tracks and a fear filled murmur rose behind her. Tiamon drew a knife from his belt, whirled Sam around, cut her bonds, and signaled to those that followed to do the same for Teal'c.
The young Major rubbed her wrists as she suspiciously eyed Tiamon. "Thanks, but why?"
"We must run for our very lives, Major Samantha Carter. You and your Jaffa may accompany us to your interview or you may take your chances with the Redcaps. The choice is yours." With that, the Euloean leader motioned his party forward, leaving a confused Sam to be joined quickly by Teal'c.
"Well, if that doesn't beat all..."
"All what, Major Carter?"
"We're free, I think. If we want to risk a meeting with the Redcaps."
"What are the Redcaps?"
"I have no idea." Another screech broke through the night. "Teal'c, I think we go with the Euloeans."
"I believe that is a wise course of action."
He'd lost his hold, his only chance of getting revenge for this, this pain. But wait, it wasn't the right one... then who? He flinched slightly as a hand came to rest on his uninjured shoulder. Who was talking now? The voice was familiar, as was the gentle touch. Confusion reigned supreme as Jack struggled to hear what he was saying.
"You had a bad fall. Let me help you, please."
Daniel? In Iraq? No, that's wrong, all wrong. Off world, somewhere, again. Some 'P' designation. Great. It was Danny, he'd know that voice anywhere. God, he could have killed him. The thought of Daniel dying by his hand was too much for the Colonel and he let out a low, anguished groan. "D...Daniel? What? I thought... Oh, God!"