Part 3 (2/2)
”Thank you, Captain,” he said, repressing a smile. Keen as mustard, this one. ”I'll be sure to contact the High Chancellor before I leave.” Not that he was planning on leaving. Not that he knew what to tell her.
”Yes, sir,” the captain said. ”Major Lee is on duty in the control room tonight, sir. I've briefed him.”
”Sounds like everything's in hand, Captain. I'll see you tomorrow.”
When Austen had pulled the door shut behind him, Hammond sank back into his chair to think. He had to talk to Travell, of course, and he'd have to do it in person; this wasn't a conversation he could have in the middle of the control room. But he didn't want to travel to Tollana alone - he needed backup, someone else in his camp. But with SG-1 missing, who else could he bring? More importantly, who else could he trust? Someone inside the SGC was Maybourne's mole.
He ran through some possibilities, but one name came consistently at the top of the list: Colonel Robert Makepeace. He was a good man, a good soldier. Solid in the field and dedicated to Stargate Command and everything for which it stood. He was no Jack O'Neill, of course, but he was a d.a.m.n fine officer and he'd pulled O'Neill's b.u.t.t out of the fire more than once. And Hammond had to trust someone.
So, Makepeace it would have be and if the Curia didn't like it then they were out of luck. It wasn't that he distrusted the Tollan, but he'd certainly feel more comfortable with someone watching his back while he broke the bad news. If nothing else, they could discuss tactics.
With that decision made, he turned back to his in-tray. But before he could so much as reach for the next report, his phone rang. With none of his aides on duty, the call came straight through to his desk. It was Dr. Fraiser's number and he picked up immediately.
”What can I do for you, Doctor?”
”Sir,” she said, ”I have the results of the tests on the field dressing Colonel Makepeace retrieved from P5X-104.”
Her tone of voice settled a heavy weight in his chest - this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have over the telephone either. ”I'll be right up, doctor.”
At that time of night the elevator ride to the infirmary didn't take long and Hammond was walking into Fraiser's office just a couple of minutes after she'd called. He wasn't surprised to see Colonel Makepeace already there, perched on one of the plastic chairs with his hair still damp from the shower.
”Sir,” Makepeace said, getting to his feet.
Hammond waved away the formality. ”As you were, Colonel. Thank you for coming so promptly. It's been a tiring day.”
Makepeace shrugged. ”Daresay I've not had the worst of it, sir.”
On the other side of the desk, Fraiser sat with a single sheet of paper in front of her and a serious look on her face. Hammond took a seat. ”Doctor, what have you got?”
Fraiser kept her fingers pressed lightly on the desk, taking a breath before she slid the paper toward Hammond. ”Well, for a start,” she said, ”I can tell you that the blood on the dressing belongs to Dr. Jackson.”
Hammond gave a curt nod. There'd been a chance that his team had been treating someone else, but it had always been more likely that one of their own had been wounded. ”Is there anything else?”
”Not much,” she admitted. ”From the volume of blood and the fact that the dressing had been removed - I a.s.sume in order to replace it - it looks like a severe wound, possibly arterial. I can't say for sure, of course; there are a number of reasons why he might bleed heavily.”
None of which were good, Hammond supposed. ”Very well. Thank you, doctor.”
”Sir?” Makepeace s.h.i.+fted in his chair; he looked too big for the small room, like he was chafing at being so tightly confined. ”It's significant that they were changing a wound dressing in front of the Stargate. O'Neill would never do that if they were about to gate home.”
Hammond couldn't argue with him. ”Then the question is, if they weren't about to gate home, where were they about to go?”
Makepeace scratched his head. ”Maybe they were captured, sir, and held there while the Jaffa decided what to do with them? If Dr. Jackson was wounded they might have taken the opportunity to change his dressing.” He frowned. ”There was a lot of spent ordinance there, General. Whatever happened, they put up one h.e.l.l of a fight at the gate.”
”And yet,” Hammond said, ”when your team examined the DHD they found that the last address dialed was Earth.”
”That's correct, sir.”
”But the gate here didn't open.”
”I can't explain it, sir. Maybe something happened before it could connect? There was a lot of damage close to the gate, some impacts that look like they came from a staff-cannon or a glider. Maybe that interfered with the wormhole? It wouldn't be the first time we've seen something like that.”
”No,” Hammond agreed, ”it wouldn't.” He thought for a moment. ”Colonel, can you identify which Goa'uld we're dealing with here?”
”I made a note of the,” he gestured toward his forehead, ”marking on the bodies, sir. I didn't recognize it, but I've taken it up to Dr. Rothman and he's looking into it.”
It was a pity, Hammond thought, that Dr. Jackson wasn't here to look into it himself. Instead, it was his blood that had been spilled on a distant world and Hammond's job to get him home. He sighed, feeling helpless in the face of so many dead ends. ”Then we're at an impa.s.se,” he said. ”Colonel, do you have any suggestions? I'm open to ideas.”
Makepeace sat forward in his seat. ”Send my team back to '104, sir. We only searched the vicinity of the Stargate, but if we headed all the way out to the site Dr. Jackson wanted to investigate we might find out more. It's even possible they're being held on the planet. We didn't find any evidence of Goa'uld transport rings being used. Either that or they've taken refuge somewhere and ended up cut off from the gate.”
”That's a good idea, Colonel,” he said, although he'd be sending a different team. He needed Makepeace to travel with him to Tollana.
He was about to say as much when Dr. Fraiser interrupted. ”General, how about contacting the Tok'ra? They're bound to recognize the Jaffa insignia and they'll know a lot more about it than Dr. Rothman - with all due respect to the doctor.”
Makepeace snorted. ”The Tok'ra? Come on, Doc, they only help us when it's in their own interest. One of our teams going missing won't mean anything to them.”
Hammond didn't appreciate his dismissive tone and Fraiser's eyes took on a distinctly flinty expression. ”I'm sure it'll mean something to General Carter, Colonel.”
Makepeace shrugged, but remained unconvinced. ”The general's only one of them, Doc. I'm just saying - I've never known a Tok'ra do anything without an ulterior motive. And there's nothing in this for them.” He looked over at Hammond. ”It might be worth asking them, General, but I wouldn't hold my breath waiting for an answer. For something this important, we're better off relying on our own resources.”
”Really, Colonel?” The chilly look in Fraiser's eye belied her mild tone. ”Even when our own resources aren't adequate to the task?”
”They're good enough,” Makepeace said, getting to his feet. He was doing a poor job of masking his irritation. ”One thing you learn out there is to trust no one but your own people. It's the only way you'll get home alive.” He towered over the doctor as he spoke, but if he was attempting to intimidate her, he was out of luck. Fraiser simply regarded him with a cool, appraising gaze and it was the colonel who looked away first. Glancing at Hammond he said, ”Sir, permission to prep for a return mission to P5X-104?”
Hammond considered the request for a moment, taking in the man's hard face and harder att.i.tude. Unfortunately, he couldn't ignore the alarm bells that had started ringing in the back of his mind and he realized that, for all his admirable qualities, Colonel Makepeace was not the man to take into his confidence about the Maybourne situation. In fact, Hammond was forced to admit that he probably shouldn't trust any of his off-world teams. However unlikely it might be, each of them had had the opportunity to steal technology from their allies.
Swallowing down the sudden sour taste in his mouth, he shook his head. ”Permission denied, Colonel. I'll send SG-2.”
”What? But, sir -”
”Robert, your team has just finished two back-to-back missions. You're all exhausted. Go home and get some rest and report back here for 1000 hours tomorrow.”
”General Hammond -”
”That's an order, Colonel.”
Makepeace's jaw clenched and he straightened. ”Yes sir,” he said with obvious reluctance. He threw Fraiser a dark look, and then turned back to Hammond. ”SG-3 will do whatever it takes to bring them home, General.”
”I know, son. Now go get some rest.”
After Makepeace had gone, Hammond sat for a while in Fraiser's silent office. She was staring at the closed door, her thoughts drifting far away. SG-1 were her friends too, Hammond reminded himself. She and Major Carter were especially close, but her history with the colonel went right back to the beginning of the Stargate program. It was sometimes easy to forget that Doctor Janet Fraiser was one of the indomitable rocks upon which Stargate Command had been built. He respected her, admired her, and valued her judgment more than almost anyone else on the base.
Maybe sensing his eyes on her, Fraiser shook herself out of her thoughts and looked over at him. ”Despite all his bravado, sir,” she said, her tone almost apologetic, ”I hope Colonel Makepeace is right. I hope he finds them.”
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