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).
'Kill him? Him being me?' This was definitely not what Jack had had in mind when he'd met the businessman on the mall. Lack-of-personality number one took a tight grip on his right arm followed by his counterpart of a similar name taking a grip on his left. Ignoring the primal urge to resist, Jack allowed himself to be dragged away. With Parker and the yet-to-be-named man still in conversation beside the limo, he knew he had no chance of escape. If he struggled, he was either dead on the spot, or restrained, translation: dead later. No, his only chance lay in passive resistance; not his normal mode of operation.
He stealthily surveyed his surroundings as he was hurried along the winding trail leading away from the mansion. The barn in the distance appeared to be their destination, but between it and the house he noticed two storage sheds, a greenhouse, fifteen feet of some sort of tall, thick shrubs, and a gazebo. Just the sort of retirement home any well-placed, well-healed, criminal, retired colonel should have. No shuffleboard in Florida for Colonel Parker.
A curve in the path led the trio around the shrubbery, which blocked the view of the house, some of the driveway, and the limo. Without wasting another moment, Jack stumbled to one knee, forcing the smaller of the men down with him. A well-placed elbow sending the thug down for the count. Astonishment was almost Jack's undoing as he realized the man had a glass jaw. Almost too late, he remembered his second opponent.
A quick, hard jab to the guard's abdomen produced a grunt, but nothing more as a giant fist flew at Jack's head. Barely twisting aside in time, Jack immediately threw himself in the opposite direction and succeeded in loosening the other man's hold on his arm. Rolling away from his opponent, he pushed himself to his feet, and moved clear as the strangely silent giant attacked. A sidekick caught the man in his upper thigh, costing him his balance. As the large guard fell toward the ground, Jack hastened his fall with a chop to the man's thick neck. A louder grunt this time, and the guard fell silent at Jack's feet.
Daniel silently fumed as he was once again forced down the stairs. Old. This was getting very old. He'd been lugged up the stairs, practically thrown down the stairs, and passed around from large thug to large thug to large master thug like a damned suitcase. Wasn't anybody in this place short? Hell, he'd seen baggage handlers moving luggage with more care and consideration than he'd received. And he was supposed to be valuable. Pity the poor soul who wasn't worth shit.
He really hoped that he didn't have to climb any more stairs. His lungs felt like they were on fire, and every breath was a struggle. In short, he felt like death warmed over. Actually, if he remembered correctly, dead felt better than he did right now. 'Hurry up, Jack!' Daniel was using the silent plea as a mantra when he realized that he was in the office once more, and that Parker was speaking to him. And just who the hell was the other guy, anyway?
Wait! He's saying something about ... Jack. But what? Daniel concentrated as much as his tired brain would allow, and immediately wished he hadn't.
"...eill is dead. Rescue is not possi..."
The words faded away as fast as they'd begun, but changed Daniel's mantra to a horrified, 'Jack is dead, Jack is dead.'
Using their own belts, and dirty T-shirts, Jack bound and gagged the two would-be assassins, and rolled their still unconscious forms underneath the shrubs. Stepping back, he smiled, satisfied that they would not be discovered for quite some time.
A movement to his right caused him to whirl, taking aim with one of the guns he'd retrieved from the guards. "Dammit Carter. You can get killed like that."
"No, sir. I knew who had the gun."
"Thanks, Carter, but you still need ..." He paused, a frown creasing his forehead, "That was a compliment to my shooting skills, wasn't it, Major?"
She smiled politely, and promptly changed the subject. "Anything on Daniel?"
Jack's frown of puzzlement deepened into one of concern. "Still inside, unless they've gotten a car away in the last five minutes."
"They haven't." Captain Benjamin rose from checking the unconscious thugs. "Any idea where Dr. Jackson may be?"
"Only that Parker was having him brought downstairs. Benjamin, the fact that you're here tells me that you've done the recon. What's the plan?"
The captain nodded toward the part of the driveway visible from where they stood. Puzzled at the man's reticence, Jack turned quickly, and froze. "You didn't."
Sam sighed heavily. "Actually, sir, he did."
"Sir..."
Parker whirled away from Daniel, his face a mask of anger. "I said no interruptions."
The man paled, then spoke up. "I...I'm sorry, sir. But..." The icy glare from his employer was too much for him.
"Just spit it out and be gone!"
"Sir, there's a bus coming up the drive."
Parker's jaw dropped to his chest. "A what?"
The guard took a deep breath. "A bus, Colonel. A God-damned tour bus."
The colonel just stared, his mind utterly rejecting what his flunky had just related. Before he could respond, another man, even more flustered than the first burst into the room without knocking. "Sir, the bus is unloading. There're teenagers all over the yard!"
The businessman started to laugh. "Is there something I should know, Roland? Having a little trouble with the taxes?"
"Shut up! You!" Parker thrust a finger in the direction of the first guard, then pointed to Daniel. "Untie him, but keep a close eye on him." Turning back to Daniel, he snarled as he took Daniel's chin in his hand, forcing him to meet his eyes. "Be on your best behavior, Daniel, you wouldn't want some kid's death on your hands." Without waiting for a response, the colonel stormed out of his office.
A harried looking teacher stood in conversation with the bored bus driver. "Are you sure this is the right mansion? There weren't any signs. Henry Jacobs! Amanda Miller! Do not wander away. Oh, dear." She glanced around her in frustration as groups of young people scattered around the courtyard. "Bob, please make sure the kids don't get too far away from the bus. Now, Mr. Fitzwilliam, this house does not match the advertisement at all."
"Look, lady, I just drive the bus to the address I'm given, then park. We're here for two and a half." He stopped and looked at his watch. "Correction. Make that two and a quarter hours. Do with them what you like."
Before she could respond, a severe voice interrupted. "Just what the hell do you people think you're doing?"
And from the entrance to the house, a high-pitched voice cried out. "Hey, guys, the door's unlocked! I've got the bathroom first!"