Author's Notes: Special thanks to my beta, Mary, for her knowledge of the Puzzle Palace, i.e. the Pentagon.
DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognisable 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 purposes 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. Not to be archived without permission of the author(s).
"Knock, knock." Sam called from outside the bedroom. "Everyone decent?"
"That's a matter of opinion." Daniel laughed.
"Not funny, Jackson." Jack growled in mock dismay. "Come on in Carter."
"Yes, sir. I just wanted to find out if we're going out right away..."
"Yes..."
"No..."
The negative from Jack surprised both of his colleagues. Daniel turned startled eyes toward the older man. "Uh, Jack?"
"Daniel, I don't know about you, but airline food is worse that being at boot camp. I think eating should be top priority. Besides we don't even know where to start..."
"Actually, Jack, I've got an idea about that."
Jack's bewildered look caused Carter to look quickly away. "And that would be, what?"
"The Museum of Natural History."
It was Sam's turn to look bewildered. "What?"
"An old friend of my father's still works there, or did as of a few months ago. He may be able to shed some light on my parents' last dig."
"Good friend of yours, eh, Danny-boy?"
The younger man blushed deeply. "Not exactly. The last time I saw him he, uh, suggested I change my name to Jackass so I wouldn't embarrass my parents anymore."
The bus had released him within easy walking distance of the Pentagon, and Jack lost no time in heading for the uniquely shaped building. He passed easily through the metal detectors and security checks at the south entrance to the building. His hand hesitated briefly over the maps on the counter, but his brain rejected the idea as unnecessary. After all, he'd managed to navigate successfully on multiple alien worlds, how bad could the Pentagon actually be? And the room he was looking for was on the first floor, 1E702. First floor, E ring, room 702. Nothing to it. If memory served him correctly all he had to do was to get to A ring in the center of the building, then cut across to the right corridor in E ring. Nothing to it.
Jack walked confidently down corridor three, turned right into A ring, rounded the first corner and found ... construction. A helmeted worker stopped him. "Sorry, sir, this area's blocked off for asbestos removal."
"Sweet. All the way up or just this floor?"
"Just this floor, Colonel."
"Thanks." Sighing heavily, Jack searched for the nearest stairwell, which turned out to be in the B ring. Cursing under his breath, he took the stairs two at a time, exited on the next floor, and turned right. Relieved to be headed in the right direction, he rounded a corner and almost collided with a wall. Thinking that only an idiot would wall up a hallway, he backtracked to the nearest corridor and headed for the next ring, figuring that he had to get to E ring anyway and hoping the wall did not extend all the way through to C ring. Forty-five minutes, three floors, and five corridors later, his blood pressure was high enough to get him grounded. 'Face it, O'Neill, you're gonna have to ask for directions. And where the hell is the men's room?' For once, luck was with him, and he shoved open the door grateful for the release the violent action gave him, and for the fact that no one was coming out of the room as he was going in. This entire day was going to shit, and fast.
"Captain Benjamin?" A slightly hoarse voice called to the young Army officer as he started to cross the street.
Upon hearing his name, the captain turned quickly, scanning the area for the owner of the voice. "Yes?"
"Here, sir." A middle-aged man with thinning hair waved a hand to gain the officer's attention. A confused Captain Benjamin stood rooted to the spot. The other man moved closer, holding out a badge. "Sorry to bother you, sir. I'm Madison Trent, FBI."
Benjamin smiled. "How can I help you, Mr. Trent?"
"Dr. Philip Marshall."
"What about him?"
The other man glanced around him. "Well, I'd rather not discuss anything on the street. Have you had lunch?"
"No."
"There's a café across the street. Let's talk there."
"Colonel?" The pretty young lieutenant saluted as she approached the obviously annoyed colonel.
Jack froze in his tracks, turning to face the girl. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"I'm sorry to bother you, sir, but you look a little lost."
"That obvious, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
Jack smiled charmingly at the young woman. "I'm looking for Historical Records."
Jack's smile brought an unexpected blush to the young woman's face. "Oh, that's in room..."
"1E702. Yes, I know, I just can't seem to find it."
"Sorry, sir. Actually, you're very close. It's around the next corner."
"Thank you, Lieutenant."
"You're quite welcome, Colonel."
He walked quickly around the corner and stopped just outside the plain gray door with the black lettering. '1E702 Historical Records.' Thank God! Beside the door was a removable nameplate bearing the name, Colonel Clark Armstrong. God, the very thought of being trapped in a room, surrounded by musty relics day in and day out, made his stomach turn. Bet Daniel would love it. Should've let him ... no, he's better off at the Museum of Natural History with Carter. He'd never have made it through the halls of the Pentagon, even with an escort. Besides, Jack suddenly remembered, the military environment might not be the safest one for his young friend. Swallowing a grimace, he knocked on the door.
Daniel stared in astonishment at the huge skeleton in the center of the room. Odd that in all his years of studying ancient artifacts, he'd didn't remember ever getting this close to dinosaur bones. He wondered fleetingly how the Goa'uld would've coped if they'd found Earth during the Jurassic Era. Grinning absurdly at the thought of a possessed T-Rex, he replied absently to Sam's explanation of fossil fuels. "That's ... interesting, Sam."
"Daniel. You're not listening to me, are you?" She placed a gentle hand on Daniel's arm.
He covered her hand with his own. "I'm sorry, Sam. I've just never seen anything this big before. At least nothing that used to be alive. What were you saying?"
She laughed. "Something useless about gasoline, I believe. Now where do we go to find your fr..., uh, your father's friend?"
Daniel quickly moved to the information booth. "Excuse me, miss, can you tell me where Dr. Damian Fielding's office is?"
"Upstairs, third office on the left."
Daniel and Sam hurried up the ancient staircase, oblivious to the watchers below.
Colonel Clark Armstrong was an imposing figure. Tall, muscular, broad shouldered. Imposing. The thick dark eyebrows indicated he'd once been the owner of a shock of dark hair, which was now obviously MIA. The colonel was middle-aged, probably a little older than Jack himself. Jack suppressed a smile as envious gray eyes acknowledged his rank, ribbons, and decorations in one unobtrusive glance. Long thin fingers turned the little key over and over as the other man studied the smooth metal surface. "Well, it's a DOD storage locker key."
Jack cursed inwardly. "I know that. Any idea where the locker might be found?"
"Actually..." Jack's ears perked up. "No."
"No? No! Colonel, I find that hard to believe."
"Well, it's almost true."
Jack counted silently to ten. "Why?"
"All the older lockers were re-keyed, starting five years ago. Security purposes, you know."
"I see." Jack wondered how to dispose of the body. "But this is an older key, right?"
"Right, and that's where the problem comes in. Notification of the re-keying was mailed to all key-holders, but no new keys were mailed. Security..."
"...purposes. Got it. So?" Jack had now counted silently to thirty-two.
"The firm hired to do the work did an excellent job on the lockers, but their record keeping left a lot to be desired."
"They didn't keep records?"
"Not electronic."
"But they have paper records?"
"Yes, but there were 11,327 lockers re-keyed over the past five years."
The third door on the left was open, and an older secretary sat with her back to the door, studying the PC in front of her. Alerted by their footsteps, she turned and watched as the pair walked into the room. "Yes?"
Daniel glanced quickly at Sam. "We're here to see Dr. Fielding."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No."
"Well, sir, I'm afraid that Dr. Fielding does not receive visitors without an appointment."
"Excuse me." Daniel stared as Sam took over the conversation. "I believe he'll want to see us."
"And you would be..."
"Dr. Samantha Carter." She flipped an id case open and closed rapidly. "Pentagon."
The woman turned slightly in her chair. "Concerning?"
Sam put on her best military demeanor. "His grant." She managed not to react to the strangled sound coming from the young man beside her.
"Sir, they've split up."
"Indeed. What division?"
"O'Neill's gone to the Pentagon. Carter and Jackson went to the Museum of Natural History."
"Are the tails still active?"
"Yes, the tail on O'Neill's been changed four times. Twice for the other two. Also, we weren't able to follow him into the Pentagon, but we have people watching every exit."
"Excellent. Carter's credentials?"
"Major in the US Air Force, Doctorate in Astro-Physics, worked at the Pentagon..."
"Defensive capabilities?"
"Self defense - level 3."
"That high."
"Yes, sir. The young lady can hold her own."
"Dr. Jackson?"
"Apparently everything he knows he's been taught by Colonel O'Neill. Our source at the SGC tells us that he's adequate at them."
"Very good. Bring me Jackson."
"What about Carter?"
"If she interferes, terminate her."