Hello... Apologies. It has been some time since I've posted a chapter for any of my stories and I can't promise when another chapter will appear. Still, hopefully somebody is still reading after all this time...

xxx

FOUR: Looking in All the Wrong Places

SGC

December 28th, 2005

1356 hrs

To frank with herself, not something she had always been in the past, Elizabeth had to rank the Christmas just passed as the best of her life since she'd been brutally parted from her mother. Oh, her current home consisted of a room with no windows several levels under the ground in a military installation, but since she had Jarod at her side it was not only bearable but also even a little homely. She'd enjoyed retiring to their room in the evenings for a little husband and wife alone time. Landry was promising a house off base within the next few days, but as long as she and Jarod got to spend time together Elizabeth wasn't going to push the issue. Fortunately for her, after the events of P0X-777, Landry had given Jarod's team – SG-4 – a week of downtime.

Right now however, she needed to earn her keep and while Jarod spent some time in the gym she was pounding the keyboard in search of facts to present to the President about Angus. Browser open, Elizabeth brought up the login interface for the webmail that Jarod used for his various email contacts. Logging in she was impressed to see Broots had sent her information on the other Pretender as requested. She downloaded the various document and picture attachments and then finally read the email before she would send him a grudging 'thank you' and a reminder to escape the Centre himself before it swallowed him whole. What she found was disturbing.

Miss Parker,

I need to warn you of what is happening here at the Centre. At first I thought perhaps your contacting of myself had been discovered, but a snatch of conversation that I overheard between Mutumbo and Raines suggested that it is something different. There is some sort of deadline that we have all been unaware of that is looming, and the missing scrolls are needed to prepare the Centre for that time.

Since then almost all Centre activity has been focussed solely on locating the scrolls and deadly force is considered the only option when dealing with anyone found with them. Madam Director even came down from the Tower to deliver this edict so you have some idea of how serious the Centre is taking things right now. I've seen her once before in the ten years I've been working here!

Mr Lyle has been charged with hunting both you and Jarod down by any means necessary. I hope that you have a means of staying out of their sight, Miss Parker, cause he seems to be out for blood.

This will be my last email from the Centre. I've already created new identities for my daughter and myself and, unless something goes horribly wrong, by the time you receive this we'll be on a plane to somewhere else. I can only hope that I'm half as good as Jarod at avoiding capture and that the Centre doesn't see me as valuable enough to find. I'll send an email to this webmail address once my daughter and I are safely settled.

Hoping to live long enough for you to read this,

Broots

Elizabeth sat back in her seat as she processed what Broots had dropped in her lap. The Centre was in a panic over the scrolls and some deadline Broots knew nothing more about. The former Centre child had to wonder if this deadline had been suddenly imposed because the Centre had been somehow tipped off about the in-progress Presidential investigation into the Blue Cove organisation. Were the controlling members of the Centre preparing to go to ground before the government could catch them? Quickly she tapped out an email to Major Davis alerting him to this potential leak in the investigation of the Centre and to pass on the information to the President.

That accomplished Elizabeth pondered the scrolls themselves that the Centre was obsessively focussed on. What was their true purpose? The events surrounding the recovery of the scrolls from the Scottish island Carthis had led to the revelation that the scrolls contained prophecies, one that had driven various generations of Parkers to madness and death – including the man she had once believed was her father. It seemed that if she and Jarod wanted to gain some leverage over the increasingly desperate Centre the pair would have to locate the scrolls themselves, maybe even read them. She would have to talk with Jarod.

Focussing on the small pile of attachments that Broots had supplied her with, Elizabeth clicked on the first to find she was looking at a digital copy of the photo of Angus that Jarod had shown to the President. Reaching into the manila folder on her desk Elizabeth pulled out the photo of the then recently promoted Major General O'Neill – looking as if he felt out of place in his dress blues – and held it up next to the computer monitor to compare the two.

That she was looking at a photo of the sixteen-year-old as an older man was beyond the shadow of a doubt and she could easily see why the President had freaked at the photo of the younger man. There was no mistaking the two. Taking a deeper look she was almost attempting to divine how the transition from Angus to O'Neill occurred from just the lines on the older man's face. Whatever it was, she was sure that this Pretender had lived his life, something that Jarod and herself were only just really beginning to get to grips with.

"Who are you really?" she mused. "And where are you now?"

Putting the photo down on the folder she opened the next attachment, which documented the 'acquisition' of Angus and his initial introduction to the fledgling Pretender programme. It did not differ that greatly from Jarod's experiences some six years later, by which point the Centre had already taken on five or six other children and refined the system of indoctrination further. It would be an interesting document to look through later in an attempt to follow up any leads she might uncover. But what she wanted right now was conclusive evidence to present to the President that either linked the Centre to the disappearance of General O'Neill, or absolved them of the responsibility and let the USAF focus on other avenues for finding the missing man.

The next document was more along the lines of what she had been looking for, compiling the efforts of various sweeper teams over the years to uncover the whereabouts of Angus. Not surprisingly the Centre's attempts to find the missing Pretender had waned as the years passed, becoming non-existent by the point Jarod had escaped. Obviously Jarod's departure had been the greater priority till this panic over the scrolls and deadline. Elizabeth let the cursor glide back to the top of the document and she began a systematic investigation of the leads on Angus that the sweepers had noted, pen paused over a pad of paper to take notes.

They had apparently located him as part of the US Army in Vietnam in 1973, six years after his escape and had considered attempting to extract him from the war zone too great a risk to take, especially since the Centre didn't have the political clout to either cover up any mistakes made doing so or to try the paperwork route. The Centre instead had counted on apprehending him once he'd returned to civilian life and there wasn't a military outfit to notice his absence. Yet the Pretender had slipped out of their grasp. They had come close again in 1982, which eventually turned out to be the last time that the Centre had believed they were close to locating Angus.

Elizabeth paused here and tapped her finger on the papers on the desk in front of her. Flipping open the folder she had been given on General O'Neill she scanned his service record. 1973 had him in Vietnam as part of the Air Force, running supply missions through enemy territory. She looked ahead to 1982 to find that after a fairly quiet career O'Neill was suddenly undertaking missions into the former Communist Bloc of the USSR. Had the Centre gotten too close for comfort in 1982? So close that Angus had felt the need to create a new identity in Jonathan O'Neill?

Her eyes flicked downward slightly to a surprising entry. 1984 was an important year according to O'Neill's Air Force profile, May 23rd providing a concrete date that pinned the Pretender's past down. O'Neill had married Sara Douglas on that day and further notations to the file indicated that Sara wasn't a simple shadow designed by Angus to give the O'Neill identity some substance. She was real and even interacted with SG-1 early on in the life of the team. There was even a deceased child, Charlie Tyler O'Neill, who Elizabeth might have written off as further profile building had Sara not been documented as real. The former Centre operative knew that talking to O'Neill's ex-wife would be an important starting point in evaluating the level of the Centre's interference in the Pretender's life.

Bowl-a-Rama, Colorado Springs

December 29th, 2005

1924 hrs

The roar of rolling balls and clanking machinery filled the air, only slightly noisier than the sound of a large number of people having various conversations. The bowling alley was fairly busy, but since Jarod had taken the time to book in advance he and the rest of SG-4 had harboured no concerns about obtaining a free lane.

Currently standing over Motoyama and berating him about his poor performance at ten-pin bowling, which was costing their team points, was Elizabeth. Her finger was waggling in Motoyama's face and the poor man looked terrified. Jarod couldn't help but notice how alive and beautiful she looked as she gave the dressing down. Or at least, he felt that when the dressing down wasn't directed at himself. He wryly reflected that this probably wasn't helping break the ice between him and the rest of SG-4 – Motoyama especially.

Finishing his coke Jarod wandered back to the lane and insinuated himself between his wife and Motoyama, gradually backing her into a seat and getting her to sit down. Her pretty face was marred by a scowl of epic proportions – he should have realised before inviting her along that Elizabeth would be a touch competitive. Sitting next to her he pulled her into a sideways hug and kissed the crown on her head, using the arm hugging her to rub her shoulder and arm in a gesture of comfort.

"I'm overdoing it, aren't I?" sighed Elizabeth into Jarod's chest.

"A little," her husband replied, a grin gracing his face that she couldn't see. "But it is understandable. You've worked for a long time with subordinates like Sam or Willy who'd jump to your every order and now you don't have anyone to yell at. Go easy on these guys and if you're lucky, some poor SGC security staffer will stuff up next week and you can legitimately yell at them."

Elizabeth gave a weak chuckle and sat up again. She looked across to Motoyama who had studiously been looking away during the husband-wife exchange and apologised to the Captain. Though he had soothed over that clash of wills, that didn't prevent Elizabeth from giving her all to motivate her team to win. Over all, even thought they were losing to SG-4 and wife-hanger-on, SG-15 considered it an entertaining evening overall so far, especially the new security consultant to the SGC. Well, entertaining as long as it wasn't them on the end of either a chewing out or a motivational speech from her.

SG-15 leader Franklin was coming off the alley having made a spare with his second bowl and Archer from SG-4 was stepping up to take his turn.

"Do you really have to return to '777?" asked Elizabeth as Archer's ball rolled towards the gutter for the eighth time that evening.

"General's orders. I'll admit I'm not keen on going back, but the SGC has to know what we're up against here. Besides, we'll be in the company of various other SG teams. We'll be safe."

She gave Jarod a tight squeeze and then let her husband go to watch Archer's second attempt. This time the bowling ball struck the pins, scattering several and leaving three in its wake.

"Well done, Archer!" congratulated Jarod at the best effort of the evening so far from the team's social anthropologist.

"Jonathan, please," said the man in question as he took a seat between Jarod and Motoyama.

Woolworth, who had been engaged in a conversation with Morcroft and comparing notes as the only female members of SG-15 and SG-4 respectively, now wandered back to her team's side of the lane and snatched up an appropriately weighted ball and considered the pins mocking her from the other end of the lane. With a huff she stepped up to the mark, paused a moment, and released the ball in one swift and clean stroke. Her fist punched into the air and she turned to reveal she was wearing a huge grin as all ten pins came crashing down.

Above her head the monitor with the score played a cutesy little graphic to join in the celebration of a strike. This cleared to reveal the stats for the team after five rounds. With Jarod and Karen on a strike at the end of the round and reasonable scores from Elizabeth and Aaron, SG-4 was ahead of SG-15 despite the poor showing from Archer. Woolworth came down to the seats and took Jarod's seat next to his wife as he stood to select a ball for his turn.

"So, how did you met Major Stewart?" she asked the other woman.

"Well..." stalled Elizabeth as she sought the right words to convey the mess that was the Centre without betraying too much information, "we've known each other since we were kids. Our parents worked together at one point."

"Oh!" Karen exclaimed in apparent delight at this revelation. "Childhood sweethearts? That's so romantic."

Elizabeth couldn't help but give Woolworth a look as if to ask if the woman had just stepped off a flying saucer. "Not quite. I admit we were friends when we were children, but we sort of drifted apart after that."

"Did he start seeking out other things to fill his time with? I bet you had to start chasing him a little just to remind him that you were there. Men can be a little obtuse at times."

The former Centre operative had a little difficulty in picturing her year-on-year pursuit of Jarod as an attempt to remind him that she was an attractive, available and interested woman. Before those final betrayals by the Centre and what passed for her family, had she been allowed to she might have easily put a bullet in Jarod's head just to wipe the smirk off his face. These days she had a hard time recalling the anger and frustration that had led to thinking like that, now finding the idea of shooting Jarod an anathema to her.

"I guess," Elizabeth hedged without giving up something sensitive.

"I'm at least glad that Major Stewart has been taken off the market," admitted Karen, "since I might have just said 'sod it' to those pesky military regs and bedded him. He's a good looking man."

Elizabeth's hand crept toward the gun strapped to her inner thigh as she fought the desire to forcefully remind the other woman that Jarod was her husband. "Thank you," she rather tightly through clenched teeth.

"Playing nice, honey?" asked the man in question as he came up behind her and laid his hand on her shoulder.

Jarod felt his wife begin to uncoil slightly at his touch and caught an apologetic look on his Lieutenant's face.

Turning to look up at her husband she gave him a blinding smile for spotting her unease and stepping in. Cleaning up the blood would have been tedious and might have put a damper of Jarod's bonding attempt with his SG unit. "Just some girl talk."

"Really?" Jarod was curious as to what exactly 'girl talk' was. Another language, a series of coded messages, a secret handshake?

Elizabeth could see that her husband now burning to know what 'girl talk' was and wondered how she could distract him from such a pursuit. So she reached up with one hand and drew him down into a kiss. As she broke the kiss and looked into Jarod's eyes she felt herself relax further and realised that the kiss was more than a simple distraction for Jarod, but a way of publicly marking him as he husband in front of Karen and any other would-be Jarod-nappers.

"Get a room," huffed Motoyama in annoyance.

"Can't," grinned Jarod as he hefted his bowling ball in his right hand, "time to bowl!"

SGC

January 2nd, 2006

1345 hrs

New Year had passed the SGC by quietly, all but essential off-world operations on hiatus till New Year. In a couple of days SG-4 was scheduled by General Landry to venture off-world once more to P0X-777, along with a number of other teams, in order to gain a better understanding of what had happened to SG-19. Given all the other threats to the Earth that had been stumbled across by the SGC over the years, both the SGC and IOC were hoping that what had happened on '777 was not the prelude to a larger problem.

Jarod along with the rest of SG-4 and a few other SG teams were currently somewhere in the forests of Colorado working through a series of potential scenarios in a training exercise. SG-4, and more importantly SG-19, had been caught off guard by whatever it was that had menaced them and Landry didn't want the same happening again. Those going to '777 were going to be prepared and would spend today and tomorrow training to ensure they came back alive.

The result of this was that Elizabeth was on her own once more and had decided that rather than mope about their quarters she would continue her pursuit of the Centre angle on the disappearance of Major General O'Neill. After a lazy lunch break she was about to get back into the groove of sifting through the materials that Broots had supplied her with, hoping to build up a coherent timeline of the life of Angus/Jonathan. She was already reasonably confident that at this stage of her investigation that the Centre was not responsible for the General's kidnapping. So far the Centre seemed to have given up searching for him by the point that her own husband made his break for freedom.

She heard her name being called as she made her way down the corridor, following the yellow line on the floor while trying not to call attention to the fact that she was doing so. She wasn't ever going to admit to Jarod that she had actually found the painted stripes useful, not after ridiculing them as a crutch for weak willed idiots.

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked when she turned to greet the person who had called her name.

The man was about her age, possibly a year or two younger, and was dressed in a black suit with matching black tie and shoes. All he needed was the sunglasses and he would pass for a 'Man in Black'.

"I'm Agent Malcom Barrett," said the man with a wide smile and outstretched hand.

"Really? How fortunate for you." Elizabeth merely folded her arms and gave the man a flat stare.

"I understand that you're the new security consultant for the SGC. I thought perhaps we could have a chat."

"In what capacity?" she asked. "You're not part of the SGC, so who do you represent?"

Malcolm coughed. "I'm with the NID."

Elizabeth's lips quickly compressed into a thin line at this revelation from Barrett.

"I can see by your expression that others have already prejudiced you against our organisation. I can tell you now that we've cleaned up our act since then."

"Forgive me if I don't leap about with excitement at that pronouncement," Ms Stewart drawled. "What can I do for you, Agent Barrett?"

"Call me Malcolm," the agent offered with another smile.

"I'll call you whatever I want to call you," Elizabeth tightly replied. "Now answer the question."

Looking about him Barrett leant in a little and asked if they could take the conversation to somewhere a little less public. Suggesting her office Elizabeth led the way, tracking the yellow line on the floor out the corner of her eye.

Once ensconced in her office she repeated her query. Malcolm focussed on the woman seated at her desk and elected to stand and pace as he worked out how to deal with the prickly consultant.

"If you're doing that so that I might appreciate your figure then you're wasting your time. I'm a happily married woman."

Malcolm almost crashed into a set of filing cabinets at that blandly stated observation. "Sorry, just working how best to talk this through."

"Perhaps if you gave me some idea of what it is you want to discuss, I could tell you."

Sitting in the other chair provided by Elizabeth's office Malcolm threaded his fingers together. "I'm not completely in the loop as President Hayes is playing things close to his chest, but I know that you and your husband are simply more than who you appear to be."

An irritated sigh arose from the woman opposite him, "So this is an attempt to exercise control over the pair of us by threatening to compromise out status here."

"No, no, no," babbled Barrett a little shocked as Ms Stewart calmly pulled a gun from out of a desk draw and put it almost point blank against his head.

"It doesn't take much pressure on the trigger, but I'm sure you already know that."

"Listen," growled Malcolm. "I'm not here to extort anything out of you or threaten you and your husband. I just wanted you to understand that we're good at what we do and even though the President is keeping a tight reign on this we have managed to piece some information together."

"I'm listening, unless the whole point of this conversation was for you to blow your own trumpet."

"This isn't going exactly as I planned," Malcolm said going cross-eyed looking at the barrel of the pistol.

"Then I suggest you explain yourself before I grow bored," remarked Elizabeth.

"We at the NID think that we have a lead on O'Neill."

Elizabeth blinked her eyes.

"Yes, we're aware he's gone missing. Kidnapped."

Lowering the gun, Elizabeth asked, "Why are you telling me this, why not inform Major Davis?"

"Because I wouldn't be surprised if the NID is high up Davis' list of possible suspects. I was hoping that since you don't have a track record with the NID that you might be more willing to believe us."

Resting the weapon on her thigh, her hand still wrapped around the grip, Elizabeth favoured Malcolm with a wary look. "So, what is this lead then?"

"You're going to listen?"

To this Barrett simply got a nod. "Okay, good." Malcolm huffed and ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair. "Ah, we're pretty certain that whoever took O'Neill back in September was a human organisation. There were no signs of alien tech being involved in the kidnapping."

"I have Davis' report here," said Elizabeth tapping a manila folder on her desk with her free hand. "The question is how did you come by it?"

"We didn't. You have to understand that last August there were a few rumblings in the backrooms of government that we monitor that something was going to happen in Washington. No substantial leads, just a word or two here and there. We kept an eye on things, but General O'Neill wasn't even on our list of possible targets."

"Your assumptions for motivations were incorrect."

"Yeah. We covered possible motivations like extortion, kidnapping for ransom, brainwashing."

"But all those things require O'Neill to remain in place or for contact to have been made long before now by the perpetrators," observed Elizabeth.

"Which is why we now believe that the plan was to completely remove O'Neill permanently from the Washington/SGC loop."

"And this lead that you were so carefully dangling before earlier is?

Barrett stood up and took a small circuit of the office. "There is a rogue offshoot of the NID, known as The Trust. They've kept their heads down for about a year now, but our sources suggest they were involved."

"Davis has already suggested that The Trust may be involved."

"Oh."

"Is there any way to prove the involvement of The Trust?" That was something that the team in Washington had yet to achieve. If they were able to tie this group to O'Neill's kidnapping then it would remove the Centre from the picture, allowing the President to pursue the organization without fear of reprisals against O'Neill.

"That's where we could do with your help."

"My help? Surely you have all the equipment, expertise, and manpower you need to do this yourself?"

"We do," agreed Barrett, "but we don't have The Trust of the SGC or the President. Especially not after Kinsey."

"So I'm coming along essentially to vouch for your good behaviour," smirked Elizabeth.

"If you want to think of it like that, then yes."

"So," asked Elizabeth as put her gun safely away, "when do we go?"

"Tomorrow, oh-nine hundred. A car will be here to pick you up."

P0X-777

January 3rd, 2006

0803 hrs

It was still raining when SG-4, along with three other teams, arrived on P0X-777. As the telemetry had indicated the MALP remained unmolested, which meant that for now the gate was probably secure from whatever it was that had attacked SG-4 several days earlier.

As they were the original dig team, SG-25 had come along for the trip – recalled early from their holiday break – and was accompanied by marine teams SG-12 and 26.

"Sun lover's paradise, huh?" grunted SG-26 team leader McCormick.

Jarrod threw the older man a glance and could easily imagine the man as part of a Centre sweeper team given his build and disposition.

With the gate area checked and secured, SG-12 was left to keep watch on the gate and the other three teams set off in the direction of the dig site, stomping and sloshing their way through the thick mud and rain.

"I'm sure glad to be back here," complained Motoyama as he tried to make out through the wall of rain the SG-25 team member only a few feet in front of him.

"Yes, Captain, and I'm happy to be here instead of back on base with my wife," remarked Jarod with a sarcastic lilt to his voice.

"Isn't she off the base today? I heard something about working with Barrett of the NID," asked Archer.

"I swear the SGC has nothing better to do than gossip," complained Woolworth.

"She has a job of her own as you well know," replied Jarod to Archer's question. "One that requires her to liaise with the NID today."

Motoyama simply grunted in response as he kept his focus on staying in line with the rest of the group. "I wouldn't trust the NID as far as I can throw them."

"I would say that Elizabeth agrees with you," smirked Jarod, "but that doesn't change things. If she is to do the work assigned her, then today she needs to work with them."

"Perhaps we should find something else to talk about," suggested Lt. Woolworth.

"Like what?" asked Archer.

"Have any of you heard of Pez?" queried Jarod with a bright smile.

"Somebody shoot me now," grumbled Motoyama to himself as the team walked on.

Eventually the long slog through the unforgiving environment gave way to familiar terrain and at long last the entrance to the dig site came into view, a dark forbidding shape looming in the murky grey of the constant rain.

SG-25 and 26 took up places at the entrance as SG-4 flicked their torches on and made short work of the small flight of steps that led down into the chamber they had sheltered in previously. It didn't take long for them to search the room and be convinced that they were alone. After that the two teams waiting above descended to join them, SG-26 quickly making use of the remains of the fire SG-4 had made on their first visit to get a blaze going.

SG-25 and 4 both stripped off their wet weather gear and set them out in one corner to dry as SG-26 returned to the surface to acquire more firewood in order to last them for some time.

Arranging his pack as a seat, Jarod sat on it with his back to the fire and his legs outstretched. In his lap lay his weapon and he kept his eyes fixed on the entrance, lazily watching the rain hit the energy field that keep the chamber from flooding. Behind him the rest of SG-4 was helping SG-25 set out their equipment and pick up their investigation where they had left off prior to their Christmas holiday.

Keeping one ear on the conversations behind him, Jarod stared at the doorway and pondered his current position in life. He was facing a future where the Centre no longer existed, if the President kept to his word, and given that till now the Centre had defined his life as either jailer or pursuer, he had to wonder just what the future would hold for him. Elizabeth too, given that she too had been surrounded by the Centre for her entire life.

Eventually SG-26 returned with a mountain of useable material for the fire, which Jarod had kept an eye on, and they too stripped out of their wet weather gear, glad to be free of it.

McCormick came over to where Jarod sat and suggested that the Major take break from guard duty, perhaps even going as far as dragging SG-25 and the rest of SG-4 away from their study of the chamber in order to take a break and eat. That earned a smile from Jarod who obliged and soon all three teams were sitting in a circle around the fire, only McCormick and his second-in-command Captain Rafferty keeping watch on the entrance.

"No sign of that creature you saw last time, Major?" asked McCormick.

"Not yet, but then it didn't immediately seek us out when we were here last time. The same goes for SG-19."

"Let's hope it stays away for a good while yet."

Jarod's attention was then turned to Karen and SG-25 linguist Dr. Michael Horndyke who were arguing over a piece of Ancient text displayed on the datapad in Horndyke's hands. Getting up from his seat he walked over and crouched down in front of them to see, only to have Lt. Woolworth complain that he was blocking all the heat from the fire. She passed him the datapad to satisfy his curiosity and banished him back to his seat by McCormick.

According to the notes Jarod had read about SG-25's original visit to '777, this was the offending text that had started it all. It had been recovered from another world and had indicated the presence of an Ancient outpost on this one, hence the dig site to uncover it. That part was fairly clear. It was the second half of the text that Michael and Karen had been arguing over about translation. There were at least three or four different and convincing interpretations that could be made of the text, the two language geeks arguing over the two most likely translations and which was the correct one.

In what free time he'd had since joining the SGC, Jarod had taken to studying the language, absolutely fascinated by the idea of a previous race inhabiting the Earth. He was by no means an expert translator yet, but at least had a functional grasp of the language to be able to determine the differences between the four probable translations.

Horndyke had been arguing for a loose, metaphor-based translation that marked the Ancient outpost as some kind of council chamber designated as a place for settling disputes between conflicting parties. Jarod could see where Michael was going with it, but as Woolworth pointed out – if the first part of the text had pointed SG-25 directly to this location on '777 and had been taken literally, why shouldn't the rest of the text be read the same way? There was also the added fact that the chamber did not resemble the conference/council chamber discovered on Atlantis, a damning mark against such an idea given how often the Ancients reused designs.

Karen felt that a literal translation was the way to go, which meant that this chamber was supposedly the resting place for some kind of weapon that could be utilised against enemies possessing overwhelming forces or powers. Jarod thought this was vaguely likely given the large number of Ancient devices that SG-1 had come across since venturing through the stargate, especially the Ancient weapon at Dakara. Was what was supposedly here akin to that weapon in terms of destructive capabilities?

Colorado Springs

0917 hrs

The black sedan glided easily along the motorway that led away from Colorado Springs, a second following closely behind in convoy. Inside Barrett and Parker sat next to each other in the rear passenger seats, Elizabeth leaning against the door and staring out the tinted window. She looked quite at ease, but Barrett was pretty sure that if he even so much as twitched in a sinister manner he'd had a gun pointed at his temple before he could even blink.

"So how long will this already tedious journey take?" snapped Elizabeth, not at all enjoying the blank look that Barrett had carved upon his face.

"Not long," the NID agent replied.

"Good, because if this trip takes too long I'm liable to beat you to death with that awful grin of yours."

"Er," began Barrett in confusion. "What grin?"

"Do they include a free humour bypass when they give out starters kits to NID rookies?" questioned the irritated woman.

Barrett simply stared, quite unsure as to what to say or do to keep her happy long enough to escape with his skin still fitting tightly all over his body. Every mile travelled was another that convinced Barrett that his usual cloak and dagger routine was not generating the shock and awe, and subsequent pliability, which he had been hoping for. The background information he had been able to pull together about Mrs Elizabeth Stewart (and her husband) was woefully incomplete when placed side-by-side with the woman sitting next to him.

"Are we headed anywhere in particular?"

Barrett blinked at the question from his fellow passenger and decided to be a touch more generous with information in the hopes of a return on his investment. "We've reason to believe that The Trust were using a storage facility near to Colorado Springs as a base of operations from which to monitor the SGC."

"Are the SGC aware of this base of operations?" Elizabeth queried.

"No, to the best of our knowledge the SGC is unaware of its existence."

The former Centre operative speared Barrett with her eyes. "No wonder they are reluctant to trust the NID."

The NID agent swallowed. "We thought it best not to alert them to it, lest they spooked The Trust into moving somewhere we couldn't find them."

Elizabeth leaned forward at that pronouncement. "You mean to say The Trust are still operating out of this facility?"

"Yes. The last confirmed chatter from the site was two days ago. I'm hoping if you come in with us we can shut them down as well as obtain the information we are looking for."

There was now feral grin on Elizabeth's face. "So I'm the reliable eye-witness that your tale is true."

Barrett nodded.

"I can live with that," conceded Elizabeth, "especially if it does pan out as you hope."

"Two minutes out," said one of the NID agents in the front seat of the vehicle.

Barrett pulled his weapon from his holster and checked it was ready.

"Are we expecting resistance?" purred Elizabeth as she too handled her gun in preparation.

"The Trust don't have a reputation for going quietly," answered Malcolm. "Best to come in hard and break them, than go in soft and have them escape or cause collateral damage."

Licking her lips, Elizabeth muttered, "Finally, some real stress relief."

The sedan had turned onto a less maintained road, three other identical black sedans lining up behind it as they joined from the other direction. All four belted up the narrow road till they swung in to a fenced area. There was a large metal building, like a small airplane hanger and a large concrete area in front of it. The building had no window except for one small one next to what was presumably the front door. On another side of the structure was a large sliding door.

Elizabeth and Malcolm burst from their sedan, joined quickly by several agents from the other vehicles. With covering fire assembled, Malcolm led Elizabeth towards the main door. A few select agents began circling the building to cover the larger sliding door and any other potential exits that couldn't be seen from this side of the building.

It took only a matter of moments for Barrett to reach the front door and try the door handle. The building was unlocked, but just as he was pulling the door open the sound of gunfire from the far side of the building could be heard.

"Shit," cursed Barrett as he flung the door open and barrelled inside, Elizabeth following closely at his heels.

Following the short, featureless hallway led them through another door into the main room of the storage facility. The room had a high metal ceiling with the struts that held the building up visible. By the sliding door were two parked cars while the middle of the room was taken up with an impressive array of computers.

NID agents were already trying to fight their way into the room from an exit opposite Malcolm and Elizabeth, but were being fired upon by a small group of people mainly hidden in the middle of the computer suite. Some of this group turned, weapons bared, as they realised that they had enemies approaching from behind. Elizabeth fell to her left behind the cover of some large, metal barrels, pulling Barrett with her.

Barrett favoured her with an angry glower at being pulled out of the line of fire, but Elizabeth shrugged him off and crept further left behind her cover till she could catch a glimpse of those ducking behind the computers. She didn't recognise any of the faces of the reputed Trust members and lined her gun up with her first target.

With a calmness setting upon her, as her frustrations of the past few weeks bled out of her, Elizabeth pulled the trigger and managed to cleanly wing one of the shooters in the shoulder. One of the other Trust operatives saw his comrade go down and swung his head to search her out, his weapon quickly following. A second gentle squeeze of the trigger saw him go down too.

By this point Barrett and the rest of the NID agents had managed to subdue the rest of The Trust staff and were up and advancing on the computer array. The NID went to the downed Trust members and began roughly dragging the injured and dead from the room and back to the sedans parked outside. Barrett and another couple of NID agents were already at the computers and trying to understand what The Trust had been at work on.

One of the screens clearly showed the inside of the SGC – level 28 to be specific, which verified Barrett's belief that The Trust had still been spying on the SGC. At another computer, the one Malcolm was observing, an NID agent was plugging a portable external hard drive into the computer to copy the hard drive for easy later examination. The third computer simply showed a screen of 1s and 0s that seemed to run on forever without repeating. The fourth computer monitor appeared dead.

Elizabeth put her gun away and approached the computer set-up in the middle of the facility. She looked at the pile of papers stacked haphazardly next to the blank monitor and flipped open the first manila folder. The first document on top was a record of recent comings and goings at the Pentagon. With a precise flick of her forefinger, Elizabeth turned the page over to reveal the next. This was a record of the same, but for Area 51. The former Centre agent frowned, closed the folder and tossed it to the side.

The folder fell to the floor with a thump, prompting Barrett to turn and look at her. "Easy with those, Elizabeth. We'll need them to help complete our investigation."

Ignoring the NID Agent in Charge, Elizabeth dashed the next two folders to the floor and picked up the one at the bottom of the pile. She knew an old paperwork trick was to bury the important stuff in the middle of the least important materials. If nothing else, it bought the bluffer time to change tack. She opened the folder and grinned at the pile of expenses forms she was greeted with.

Tucking the folder under her arm she turned her attention to the blank monitor. A quick check under the desk indicated that the computer it was attached to was still on. With that in mind she tapped the monitor with the back of her right hand before realising that the monitor wasn't broken, merely switched off. A flick of a switch fixed this problem and within seconds the monitor was alive and its tube warming up enough to display the screen. What Elizabeth found was the unsettling sight of a countdown entering its last few seconds. She was struck by the sudden realisation that the barrels she'd taken cover behind were probably the explosives this timer was connected to.

"Out! Now!" Elizabeth shouted to Barrett and the rest of his NID goons as she raced for the exit.

It took Malcolm a moment to glance at the screen and come to the same conclusion. He was up and running with his men, the last abandoning his attempt to clone the hard drive.

Elizabeth was already sheltering behind one of the sedans as Malcolm came rushing out the front door. Mere moments later the facility was engulfed in an explosion that threw Barrett, and others too close to the building, to the ground.

When she was sure no further shrapnel was falling from the skies Elizabeth was able to move out from behind the cover of the black sedan to survey the damage. The storage facility was now a burning hunk of twisted metal, The Trust operatives having done a good job of making sure nothing was left.

After observing Barrett being helped off the group and checked by his men, Elizabeth opened the passenger door of the sedan and climbed in to make herself comfortable while she waited. She placed the folder she had liberated in her lap and opened it once more to look at the forms within. Her gut told her somewhere within the mess of expense claims for pizza takeaways would be something that would help her investigation.

P0X-777

1008 hrs

Jarod ran his hands along one wall of the chamber, only vaguely taking in the shadows cast by his hands thanks to the flickering firelight. Lt. Woolworth had finished up her meal and debate with Horndyke, and now wandered over to the Major to see what he was doing. As she approached the wall it took on a slight glow and soon a plaque was visible, covered in a screed of text.

"Woah," gasped Karen as the writing became visible. She looked to Major Stewart, "Do you have the Ancient gene?"

"Ancient gene?" repeated Jarod as he examined the writing more closely. "The ATA gene that allows us to utilise their technology?"

Woolworth nodded. "That's the one. Most member of the SGC with an active gene were assigned to the expedition to the Pegasus Galaxy."

"Makes sense, given they would have been surrounded in the technology on Atlantis." Jarod broke into a smile.

"What?"

"Just imagining an Atlantis expedition with only one or two people with the gene. They'd spend all day going from room to room in order to activate things for people. Weirdest day job imaginable."

Karen smothered a giggle. "Anyhow, that gene drain has somewhat slowed down our exploration of Ancient technology. The SGC is screening new assignees for the gene as quickly as possible, but the occurrence of the gene in humanity is statistically insignificant."

"Hence the gene therapy," murmured Jarod.

"Yeah, blasted thing didn't work for me."

"You volunteered?" asked Jarod as he turned to look at the Lieutenant.

"Of course! The chance to actually use some of the cooler stuff the Ancient left behind, who wouldn't?"

With a tilt of his head in understanding, Jarod stepped back from the wall to take in the full plaque. "Well, Lieutenant, what do you make of this?"

"Let's see... 'To those who would distort' – no, 'pervert, the... destiny'? Arrgh!" Karen pulled out a notebook and stepped closer to the writings.

"I'll be back in a moment," Jarod said before heading back to the team sitting about the fire. He returned shortly afterwards with Michael Horndyke in tow and the wall of writing reappeared.

"Oh my," the Doctor of archaeology managed upon seeing the bank of text. "Where did this come from?" he asked Jarod.

"Seems likely I have the ATA gene," explained Jarod, quietly happy with the idea that he had something that allowed him to experience even more things in this life. "This showed up when I touched the wall."

"You didn't know you had the gene?"

"I've only been a member of the SGC for two weeks. The results of the genetic testing probably hasn't been collated yet," Jarod suggested with a shrug.

"Well, if we can have you hang around for a bit we might make some progress here," Horndyke said with a half-smile as he moved to be shoulder-to-shoulder with Woolworth.

"Progress, Karen?"

"Oodles, Michael," Woolworth replied with a little bit of bite.

Michael looked back at Jarod, "The sarcasm really means that she likes me."

Karen gave the archaeologist a blank look to which Jarod raised an eyebrow. "What do you make of this word here, Doctor?" Woolworth asked in order to kill the current topic of conversation.

Horndyke looked at the symbol that Woolworth was tapping with her pencil. "Ah... I think that is... 'line'?"

"Line?" echoed Karen. "You think 'line'? Let's see... 'This satellite of our people is the line of... understanding...'"

"No, no, no!" argued Michael as he grabbed out his notebook.

Jarod took the opportunity to step away from what appeared to be a brewing academic argument. As he did so the text vanished from the wall, and Jarod found Karen grabbing him by the collar to drag him back again. "You're not going anywhere, Major. I need you here so I can settle this with Michael."

"Might I remind you, Lieutenant, that you probably shouldn't be manhandling your superior officer in such a manner," teased Jarod.

Woolworth flushed a brilliant pink in realisation. "Sorry, Sir."

"Apology accepted." Jarod turned to Horndyke, who had calmed down a little. "Well?"

"I only said 'line' because without any other context that is what that usually means. Karen didn't ask for me to translate it in the context of the rest of the text."

"You can come up with a better translation?" prodded Jarod.

"Of course," responded Michael in a slightly affronted tone.

"So, what do you think it says?" Karen huffed as she crossed her arms, red notebook dangling open in her fingers.

Turning back to the text, Horndyke began pointing with his pencil. "'A message to those who would pervert the evolution of worlds, this outpost of the Alterans is the boundary of the accord. To pass beyond this point is to court death.'"

Michael turned back to his audience of two with a slightly smug smile.

"I still think this place is probably a weapon on some kind, akin to Dakara," Karen said, opening up a conversation after the three had digested the translation in silence.

"Hmm," Jarod hummed in vague agreement, fingers tracing the writings left so long ago on the wall. "I sense a 'but' in there somewhere..."

Karen rolled her shoulders. "Just something about the place reminds me of Doctor Jackson's notes on Heliopolis."

"Heliopolis?" He may have skim read many of the thousands of reports produced by the SGC, reading those General Landry and Daniel recommend as important in more depth, but despite recognising the name from brief mentions in some of those reports, Jarod realised that there was more to Heliopolis than just a name.

"It was something a Rosetta Stone for Doctor Jackson," explained Horndyke. "Heliopolis was the meeting place between four races – the Asgaard, the Nox, the Furlings, and the Ancients. At the time we couldn't read any of the writings on the walls, but the same text was reproduced in its most basic form as different atoms."

"I see," nodded Jarod. "By having one text he could read, the atoms, Doctor Jackson was able to translate the other languages."

Woolworth agreed, "It was apparently heavy going at first, having only Littlefield's notes as example of the languages to work from. As we found more examples of the languages we got a better handle on them, which is why people like myself ended up as a part of the SGC. Doctor Jackson didn't have the time to deal with all the grunt work of translation."

"And this reminds you of Heliopolis," Jarod began, picking up her train of thought, "because on this wall we have a text in the language of the Ancients and on the other wall... Actually, I don't recognise that script."

Karen Woolworth blinked, an action copied by Michael Horndyke. "Other wall of text, Sir?"

"Over there," gestured Jarod to the opposite wall of the chamber. "I saw some text on that wall when I was grabbing Michael here."

"Show me," Karen practically demanded.

She and Michael followed her commanding officer from one side of the chamber to the other. "I was reminded of Heliopolis because if you were warning off another race you wouldn't simply write it only in your tongue."

"You would put it in theirs as well," agreed Michael as the trio reached a second wall of text.

"No one at the SGC has seen this script before," the archaeologist continued with a dry mouth.

The text began to fade even as Horndyke was trying to copy it down into his notebook. "Where's it going? Come back!"

Karen blinked. "It has to be like the ATA gene. Both sets of writing appear if a member of the Ancients or this other race uses the room. Major Stewart is too far away from the wall of Alteran text, so the words are switching off. I imagine if a member of this other race stood where we are now, both sets of text would be visible again."

Michael nodded in agreement as Woolworth fixed her superior officer with a gimlet eye. "We'll need you to stand by the plaque of Ancient writings till we've copied this new text down, Sir."

Jarod sighed and wandered back to the other wall, which allowed the text on both walls to reappear, resigning himself to standing around till the pair had copied the new language down to their satisfaction. To occupy himself he focussed on trying to translate the Ancient writings himself.

Colorado Springs

1017 hrs

The trip back towards the SGC had been conducted in silence.

Once Barrett had ascertained that none of The Trust operatives were still alive somewhere in the wreckage of the building, and that his own men were as well as could be, he had called in for reinforcements. Less than forty minutes later a team of black sedans and a long white truck and trailer rumbled up the dirt road in their direction. The cars and trailer disgorged a large number of additional NID agents who began sweeping the place.

"They'll pull the place apart piece by piece for any clues and then clean the mess away," Malcolm told her as he joined her by the open passenger door of their vehicle.

"Like it never happened," agreed Elizabeth as she recalled the efforts of her sweeper teams to track down and clean up after Jarod.

Leaving another of his number in charge of the site, Malcolm had clambered into the sedan and closed the door behind him. Another agent climbed behind the steering wheel and soon they were on their way back to Colorado Springs, travelling in a hush.

As the sedan reached the outskirts of the Springs, Malcolm turned from looking out the tinted window of the passenger door and fixed his gaze on the new SGC security consultant.

"Thanks," he finally said.

"For?" asked Elizabeth, a hungry grin curling her lips. "Backing you up out there or trusting that this simply wasn't an exercise in killing me? How about giving you and your team warning to escape the explosion, or," here she paused and tapped her long, painted fingernails on the manila folder in her lap, "actually saving something that might prove useful?"

"All of the above?" grinned Barrett, still unsure of himself around this new SGC member.

"You're welcome," Elizabeth eventually acknowledged as the sedan pulled up at the gates of the Cheyenne Mountain complex.

Elizabeth reached for the door handle to let herself out, only to find Barrett grabbing her hand. "Explain yourself before I rip you hand off," growled the riled woman.

Barrett swallowed slowly. "I need the file," he said as Elizabeth heard the driver door open and close with a slam.

Eyes narrowing, Elizabeth leant forward towards the NID agent blocking her exit. "You can have it when I'm finished with it, not a moment sooner. Now let me go before I get angry."

The sedan door opened and the security consultant looked up to the find the NID spook who was their driver looming over her. "Ma'am," the grunt offered.

Before Barrett could spout any further meaningless platitudes to get her to hand over the file without force, he found that Elizabeth had simply skipped to the overt violence to get what she wanted. The former Centre agent had stabbed a foot to her side in a short kick, catching Barrett in the groin. Her elbow flashed out in the other direction, striking the NID agent in the doorway in the chest. Sliding the file under her other foot to keep it from accidentally going anywhere, Elizabeth then dealt a back-fist to the agent's face, sending him sprawling onto the road.

As a couple of guards from the SGC came running towards the parked vehicle to investigate the disturbance, Elizabeth grabbed Malcolm by his black tie and yanked his face closer to hers. Barrett looked up into her steady eyes and blinked, trying to ignore the pain spreading from his groin as she ground her foot into the already sensitive area. "The file is mine, Malcolm. And if you ever want to work with me again, you better understand that I always come out on top."

Throwing him back into his seat, Elizabeth favoured the NID contact with a scowl, picked the file up from under her foot, and slid out of her seat and out of the car.

"Can we be of service, Ms. Stewart?" of the two SGC airmen asked as they surveyed the two injured NID men.

Elizabeth tidied her hair back into place with her free hand. "No, gentlemen, I think we're done here. These men have a long journey ahead of them so we should let them be on their way."

"If you say so, Ma'am," agreed the guard.

"If you'll escort be back onto the base, I'd be most grateful," Elizabeth said with an artful grin and followed the two guards to the gate without looking back.

Barrett watched on from his crumpled spot on his rear passenger seat. "Shit," he cursed when they were out of earshot. "Memo to self, don't mess with Ms. Stewart."

Elizabeth meanwhile soon found herself in one of the lifts of the SGC, taking her back down towards where her office and quarters were. Normally as a civilian she would have been housed on Level 15, but thanks to her relationship with Jarod they shared military quarters on Level 25. At Level 19, something Elizabeth recalled housed the Astrophysics labs, the doors of the lift opened to allow the entry of another member of the SGC.

After a floor of silence, the new lift passenger turned to look at the other woman in the lift. "I don't think we've been introduced, I'm Colonel Samantha Carter."

"Ah, another member of the infamous SG-1," cooed Elizabeth, still on something of a high from slapping the NID down.

"Er... that's us, me, whatever," responded Sam in a somewhat garbled manner. She narrowed her eyes and almost leant forward in her examination of the other woman. "I've the feeling that makes you our new Security Consultant, Elizabeth Stewart."

"Bravo," grinned Elizabeth.

"Daniel had some interesting things to say about you," commented Carter as the lift passed Level 21.

"Dear Doctor Jackson!" agreed Elizabeth, her smile growing broader much to Carter's discomfort. "I sure he had only the highest praise for someone like myself."

"Yeah," Sam answered with a little more sarcasm than she had intended. "Lots of good things."

"As it happens, Colonel Carter, you've caught me in something of a good mood," Elizabeth said as she fingered the folder she still had with her. "I promise not savage you as badly as poor Doctor Jackson."

Sam smothered a laugh as the lift sailed down past Level 22. "Daniel almost didn't want to leave his lab after your little encounter in the mess hall. We were lucky it was Christmas Day, otherwise we wouldn't have been able to coax him out without the promise of presents."

"I am delighted to know I haven't lost my edge."

"I think there is already a few around the base who think you are all edges," pointed out Carter.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Colonel."

"So," Sam tried in order to change the direction of the conversation to something that sounded a little less flirtatious, "what has put you in such a good mood."

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that. Some stress release of the energetic sort," Elizabeth said, pretending to fan herself with the folder.

"With the NID?" Sam pressed, somewhat incredulous that anybody could have a good time with that organisation.

Level 23 passed by.

"Oh, they're not so bad once you get to know them," Elizabeth bounced back, the grin on her face so wide it resembled a shark.

"Anything I should know?"

"Malcolm has grabby hands," Elizabeth offered.

Carter mouthed Ms. Stewart's response to herself as if repeating it would bring understanding. Level 24 was now gone and the lift began to slow as Elizabeth's floor neared.

With a ping the lift halted at Level 25 and the doors slid swiftly open. Elizabeth stepped from the lift, but kept her free hand on the door to keep it open for a little longer. Elizabeth prided herself on her ability to keep secrets, but one look at the slightly lost air force officer was enough for her to bend that rule. After all, Jarod had repeatedly reminded her that keeping secrets was what had allowed the Centre to control both her and Jarod's lives for so long.

"You may travel the universe through that gate of yours, Colonel Carter," Elizabeth began, fixing her steely gaze on the other woman and trying to find a way to impart something important without betraying confidences, "but if you took the time to stop and look around you, you might just find that things here on little old Earth aren't quite as simple as you believe them to be."

Carter crossed her arms anxiously. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think you need to ask yourself just how well you knew General O'Neill." With that Elizabeth let go of the lift door and stalked off down the corridor in search of her office space.

Behind her a slightly shaken Samantha Carter hugged herself as the lift doors closed.