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).
"Why aren't we moving? You did deny them access to the main compartment, didn't you?"
There was a slight tremor in the driver's voice as he responded. "Yes, sir, but the officer appears to be very concerned for our safety. Those two thieves must be bad news. They want to be sure no one in the back is a hostage."
The businessman's frown deepened as he clicked off the intercom and turned to face Jack in the back seat. "Colonel O'Neill. I'm certain you heard all of our irksome conversation. Now, it's obvious that I'm going to have to allow those morons outside to do a visual on the car. Please remember that Daniel Jackson is still a prisoner. And that he will be severely punished if you misbehave in any way. Are we clear on this point?"
"Crystal." Jack responded grimly, fully aware that any slip on his part could spell disaster for Daniel.
The intercom sputtered to life. "Driver, when the officer returns, tell him we've had a change of heart and will open the middle window. But only the middle window."
"Yes, sir."
The mystery man - Jack had begun to think of him as The Corpse, for a variety of reasons - twisted in his seat once more to look suspiciously at Jack. "Your female teammate has short blond hair, doesn't she, Colonel?"
"Bleached."
"What?"
"My teammate. Bleached blond hair, but I guess you could say it was short." Jack cringed inwardly, praying that Carter never found out what he'd just said. 'I am sooooooooo dead if she does.'
The Corpse looked mildly amused. "I see. But it's really irrelevant, your black teammate is still in Colorado." He glanced down as the intercom sounded. "Ah, the ever vigilant police have returned. Yes, driver?"
"The middle window's fine, sir."
"Very well." The window whirred down as he spoke.
An uniformed officer leaned into the window, a younger counterpart standing quietly behind him. "Evening, sir. Sorry for the delay. But the pair we're looking for, a blond woman with short hair and a black man with a gold tattoo on his forehead, are very dangerous."
"As you can see, officer, they are not in this vehicle. May we pass?"
"Certainly, sir. But do be careful. We believe they're still in the area somewhere and are considered to be very dangerous."
"Yes, I believe you said that. Now may we leave?"
The uniformed officer glanced into the back seat once more, nodded, and backed away. As the limo pulled away, Jack relaxed for the first time in days.
The plethora of mirrors in the bedroom only served to heighten Daniel's disgust with the clothing his captors had brought him. Neither the jeans nor the T-shirt actually fit, but he was grateful they were big rather than small. He was having enough trouble breathing without having to contend with the skin tight clothing he'd thought Parker would provide. Pulling the belt to its smallest notch, he fastened the buckle, then moved to the door and tested the knob. Unlocked! Wonderful!
As he turned the knob, his fevered, over-tired brain loudly rang warning bells, but they only served to intensify the pain in his head. Yanking the door open, he plunged forward blindly. Straight into the chest of yet another very large guard.
Jack's eyelids lifted slowly as the door to the limo opened beside him. The larger of the guards exited first, then turned, waiting stupidly for the colonel to follow. The businessman turned in his seat, his voice rising in volume as he spoke. "I really do hate to disturb your nap, Colonel O'Neill, but we're here."
'Good. He's annoyed.' Jack silently congratulated himself. An annoyed opponent was a distracted opponent, and O'Neill was pleased to note that at least one of the guards was perplexed by his little nap. Although, with the mental capacity of a Neanderthal, the man was probably trying to figure out how to leave the limo and still hold onto his gun. Jack silently slid his legs out the door, stood and stretched, turning in a circle as he did so. There was no sign of the NID or Carter, but he really hadn't expected to see any. However, the message from the license check had been very, very clear. Help was on the way.
"If you're quite through looking around, Colonel..."
'Ooops!' Jack shrugged. "Kink in my neck. Comes with age. After you..."
The businessman's eyes flashed then quickly cooled. "We weren't followed, Colonel. Help is definitely not on the way for you. Or your friend."
"Speaking of Daniel. Where is he?"
A new voice was added to the equation. "Changing. He was dressed for the bedroom, not for travel. He'll be joining me downstairs shortly."
It took everything Jack had not to kill the man on the spot. For a short, red-hazed moment, he actually contemplated breaking Colonel Roland Parker's neck, but realized just as quickly that he'd be dead before the colonel. God, he hated referencing that title for the man, but, according to the U.S. Army, Parker had earned it. Fat lot they knew. Gulping back his hatred, Jack responded. "And where are you going, if I may ask?"
"I think you already know our base destination, Colonel. The Middle East."
'Well, Duh!' Damn, he'd been hanging around Cassandra too long. "Care to narrow it down a little?"
"Let's just say that the area in question is not overly fond of Americans."
"That description covers about a third of the civilized world, and at least half of the rest."
Parker started to laugh. "Oh, Colonel, I'm so glad to have had an opportunity to speak with you. Your wit is everything it's cracked up to be."
The businessman frowned. "Roland, you asked me to bring O'Neill here. I brought him. Now you tell me we're leaving? What about..." He tilted his head toward Jack.
Parker shrugged. "We sprang a leak." Turning back toward the house, he glanced back over his shoulder at Jack. "And by the way, kill him, then dispose of the body. And don't kill him in the driveway. Bloodstains just will not come out of pavement."
"Oh." The word barely escaped Daniel's lips before the over large ... correction, the grumpy, over large guard seized him by the shoulders and whirled him around, jerking his hands behind him as he did so. As his hands were once again bound tightly behind him, Daniel's only thought was that maybe he should have tried the other door.