CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Benedict entered his hotel room. Making sure the Do Not Disturb sign was in place on the door, he shut and locked it, then went to the closet. He placed inside it a large backpack, which contained a parachute.
The HALO jump from the plane had gone perfectly. Flying at thirty thousand feet, the small jet was too far up for anyone on the ground to notice. The owner of the plane was someone Benedict had worked with before, a man who didn't care what he was being paid for just as long as he was paid well.
A veteran of hundreds of jumps, it was a simple thing for Benedict to land in the night-dark forests of Catoctin Mountain Park well within the boundaries of Camp David, yet not so close that one of the guards on patrol would hear him. He had then made his way to the location that the information he got told him would be the best place to set up. The weapon had quickly been set up within the branches of an evergreen, which concealed it perfectly.
Getting out of the area unseen had proven to be the hardest part, though, with an area that large, it was impossible to patrol every foot of it. He had then hiked several miles to where he left his car.
Fetching a large suitcase from the closet, Benedict took it to the bed and opened it. The next few minutes were spent setting everything up. Few people would have any idea what the equipment he was assembling could do. Fewer still would realize that it would enable Benedict to kill a man who was presently in a mountain lodge seventy-five miles away. When President Henry Hayes and the unknown second man died at 8 a.m. this morning, their assassin wouldn't be anywhere near them. By the time the Secret Service and other personnel stationed at Camp David realized the truth, Benedict would be long gone.
Sleep had not returned quickly to Daniel. He had lain awake for three hours before his tiredness finally dragged him back into the arms of Morpheus. The moment he woke up, his "spidey sense" began tingling like crazy, loudly and clearly telling him that something was very wrong.
He took a quick shower and hurried through his morning shave. As he left the bathroom, Sam was coming out of her bedroom, showered and dressed. The moment she saw him, she knew that his sixth sense was still warning him about something. They went downstairs together, seeing that Jack and Teal'c were already there.
"What's wrong?" Jack asked as soon as he caught sight of Daniel's expression.
"I don't know," the archeologist replied.
"He had a vision last night, but he couldn't tell what it was about," Sam explained.
"Something's going to happen, and I don't know what it is."
"Crap," Jack cursed. "Can't the galaxy take a few days off every now and then? Is it trouble here on Earth or out there?"
"I have no idea. All I know is that it's going to happen very soon."
"Soon? How soon? Like in five days, five hours, or five minutes?"
Daniel thought about it. "I don't think it's going to be in five minutes."
"So, maybe we can at least eat breakfast before we have to save the world again."
When SG-1 joined Hayes for the morning meal, he could tell that something was wrong. He questioned them about it, and Daniel explained his feeling.
"So, this thing you call a sixth sense, it doesn't always tell you exactly what's wrong?" the president asked.
"No, it usually doesn't. It's just an awareness of danger or something being wrong. Most of the time, it's only at the last instant that I suddenly know what the danger is, sometimes too late to do anything to stop it from happening."
"But you've seen visions of the future, and they've shown what was going on."
"Some of them have, others have been too vague or mixed up to be able to figure out what they were showing me. The dream I had last night was like that."
"It sounds like it would be very frustrating."
"Believe me, it is," Daniel responded. "I can control fire with perfect precision and can psychically catch an egg tossed in the air without breaking it, but, when it comes to this, I have little control."
"Well, whatever it is that your sixth sense is warning you about, I hope you figure it out in time to stop it."
The remainder of breakfast was eaten mostly in silence, none of the members of SG-1 in the mood for small talk. After the meal, they all gathered in the foyer. It was time to leave. Their luggage was already packed and sitting on the helicopter.
Hayes shook the hand of each of them.
"It's been a pleasure having you here," he said. "We'll have to do this again sometime."
"We'd like that, Mister President," Jack responded. "Maybe we can come in the summer next time. I'd like to check out the fishing in the area."
Hayes smiled. "I'm not a huge fan of the sport, but I have done a bit of it in my day."
"Well, maybe we can go fishing together someday, sir," Jack suggested.
"Maybe we can."
Hayes went with SG-1 outside. "Give my regards to George," he said. "I'll have to get him up here one of these days."
"We'll do that, sir," Jack assured him.
The members of SG-1 were turning away when Daniel was hit with a sudden and violent warning that flashed through his mind like a lightning strike. With a cry of warning, he dove for the president. At the same instant, the sound of a rifle shattered the morning stillness. Throwing his body in front of Hayes, Daniel knocked him to the ground as three shots rang out.
Doing what they were trained to do, the Secret Service men created a human barricade around the president, protecting him with their own bodies. Others pulled their weapons, eyes scanning for the shooter. Having no weapons, Jack, Sam and Teal'c had taken cover the best that they could.
Within seconds, navy and marine personnel were out into the woods to hunt down the person that had attempted to kill the president. Someone radioed the helicopter that had been waiting for SG-1, and it lifted into the air to begin an aerial search.
While all this was going on, the group around the president and Daniel drew back far enough for two agents to check on the men.
"Mister President! Are you injured?" one of them asked anxiously.
"No, I don't think so," Hayes answered, "though my back's gonna hate me tomorrow morning." He looked at the man who was lying next to him. "Are you all right, Doctor Jackson?"
"Mostly." Daniel rolled onto his back, and everyone saw that there was blood on his left arm.
"We need a medic!" yelled one of the Secret Service agents.
Upon hearing the cry, the other three members of SG-1 rushed over.
"Let us through!" Jack demanded. He, Sam and Teal'c pushed their way to the center of the protective circle.
"Damn," Jack cursed upon seeing the blood on Daniel.
"I guess we all know what the warning was about, huh," the archeologist said, grimacing as he clutched at his wounded arm.
"We need to get them inside," one of the Secret Service men said.
Keeping him covered, the men got the president inside to safety. Daniel was then gently helped inside and to a couch. His jacket was removed and his shirt pulled back to reveal the bullet wound, which was in the upper arm, just below his shoulder. There was both an entrance and exit wound, meaning that the bullet went straight through. Someone brought a towel over, which Jack used to staunch the flow of blood.
"I'd say this definitely proves I'm not Superman," Daniel said. "The bullet didn't bounce." He looked up at the president. "Are you all right, sir?"
"I'm fine, Daniel, thanks to you. You saved my life." Hayes smiled. "If you ever get tired of the SGC, I'd be delighted to make you my personal bodyguard."
"No thanks. It's too dangerous."
The president let out a chuckle.
A navy lieutenant came running up with a medical bag. He examined Daniel's arm, then cleaned and bandaged the wound, giving him some antibiotics and pain medication.
"The wound looks clean," he announced, "but he should still go to the hospital."
"I'll have my helicopter take him," the president.
"No," Daniel said. "I think I should stay here. You may need my help."
"You should go to the hospital, Daniel," Sam told him.
"Janet can take care of it when we get home."
Jack frowned at him. "Daniel, stop being so pig-headed."
"Jack, I have my reasons for staying, and, unless the president wants to tell everyone in this room about the program, I can't go into them here."
The other three members of SG-1 looked at each other, then at the president.
"We can go into the lounge," Hayes said. He turned to one of his men. "Go get Doctor Jackson a clean shirt."
"Sir, the White House needs to be informed of the assassination attempt," another man said.
Hayes met Daniel's eyes and clearly saw in them a message that he should wait on making that call. "Let's hold off on that a bit longer, Colonel Parks. I'll make the call myself in a bit."
A T-shirt was brought to Daniel. With some help from Sam, he put it on, trying to hide how much it hurt to do so. Apparently, he wasn't as good at hiding the pain as he'd hoped, because both she and Jack were frowning at him severely, clearly not happy at his refusal to go to the hospital.
The medic put Daniel's arm in a sling, then SG-1 and the president went into the lounge. Sam insisted that Daniel sit down. She settled on the couch beside him.
"Okay, so what's going on?" Jack asked him.
"They're not going to find the hit man out there," he replied.
"You mean he got away?"
"No, I mean he wasn't here at all, not when the shots were fired."
"How is that possible?" Sam asked.
"I don't know, but I'm sure that I'm right. Some of the things I saw in my dream are making sense now."
"The gun must have been fired by remote control, then."
Jack turned to the president. "Sir, you need to have your men look for the weapon. It'll be on some kind of stand and most likely hidden by foliage. And be sure to tell them not to touch it."
Hayes went out to relay the instructions, then came back in.
"You know, every president is aware of the danger of assassination," he said, "but I wasn't quite expecting it only a month into my term. I guess it didn't take me long to piss somebody off."
"There's more to it than that," Daniel said. "There's something somebody wants, and you're standing in the way . . . and I think we can all guess what that something is."
"The Stargate Program," the other three members of SG-1 said in unison.
"You think the program is the reason for this?" Hayes asked, sitting in a chair.
"Oh, yeah," Jack replied, "and I'm betting that rogue NID group is behind it." He met the president's eyes. "I'd also bet that a certain someone else is involved."
The president immediately knew to whom he was referring. "If that's true, Colonel, he will be brought to justice."
"If the weapon is found, I might be able to get an ID on the assassin," Daniel said.
"You can do that, too?" Hayes asked in surprised.
The archeologist nodded. "It's how I found out who tried to have me killed." He then realized what he had just revealed. "Oh. Um. . . ."
"It's all right, Doctor Jackson. I already know."
"You do?"
"Yes. Someone we both know told me."
Daniel was pretty sure he knew who that someone was.
"Forgive me for asking, sir, but if you've known all this time, why haven't you done something?" Sam asked.
"Because there is no proof and because there's the issue of the program's secrecy. I assure you, Major, that I was just biding my time, waiting for the opportunity to do something about it."
"If our assumptions are correct, I believe that you will no longer be able to bide your time," Teal'c stated.
"I'm afraid you're right, Teal'c," Hayes admitted.
"Sir, I'd like to call General Hammond and let him know what's happened," Jack said.
"Of course."
The colonel walked away to the far side of the room and pulled out his cell phone.
"How's your arm?" Sam asked Daniel.
"I've had worse, a lot worse, actually. On my scale of injuries, this barely even registers."
Hayes smiled slightly. "Yeah, but it still hurts like hell, doesn't it."
Daniel paused. "Um . . . yeah," he admitted reluctantly.
Jack returned a few minutes later. "Hammond agrees with us about who's behind this." He looked at Daniel. "And you're going to have hell to pay with Fraiser when we get back to the base. She happened to be in Hammond's office when I called and was not pleased that you refused to go to the hospital."
"Why did you have to tell her?" Daniel whined.
"Hey, the doc asked if anyone was hurt, and, when I told her about you getting shot, she asked if you were taken to a hospital. I couldn't very well lie to her."
"Great," Daniel grumbled. "Just what I need." He looked at the president. "Is it too late to take you up on your job offer?"
Hayes let out a laugh. "I've learned from experience, Daniel, that ticking off your doctor is not a wise thing to do. Just do whatever they tell you to, and, if you have to go against their orders, don't let them find out."
Smirking, Jack opened his mouth to say something, but Daniel pointed a finger at him, glaring.
"No remarks from the peanut gallery!" the archeologist said. "Besides, it's not like you're a shining example of listening to doctor's orders. Need I remind you about the time you were told to stay in bed, but didn't listen and had to be picked up off the floor by Teal'c?"
"How'd you know about that?!" Jack exclaimed. "You weren't even there."
Daniel smiled. "Oh, yes, I was. You just couldn't see me. I was out of phase, remember?"
Jack looked suitably embarrassed. "Oh."
Hayes shook his head in amusement. He was really becoming quite fond of these people.
Daniel's expression turned thoughtful. He looked down at his arm. "Maybe I won't have to suffer her wrath after all," he murmured. "Sam, take off the bandages."
Guessing immediately what he was planning on doing, the major complied.
Once the wound was uncovered, Daniel examined it. It was still bleeding and looked pretty ugly, but it was not serious.
Focusing his mind upon the injury, the archeologist closed his eyes, turning his healing ability upon his own body. Everyone watched as the wound closed and healed right before their eyes. In a matter of seconds, it was gone.
"Holy cow," Hayes murmured in awe. Even though he already knew that Daniel could do this, it was still incredible to see it happen.
Daniel's eye open. "That was a little harder than the cut on Sam's hand."
Sam got some napkins from the bar and wiped away the blood. Both the entrance and exit wounds were completely gone.
"Okay, so maybe you won't get stuck with the big needles after all," Jack said, happy to see that Daniel could, indeed, heal himself. This would definitely come in handy in the future.
"That's the plan," Daniel responded. "We'd better put the bandages back on, though. Otherwise, a few people out there are going to get a big surprise."
Sam wrapped his arm back up, and he put the sling on.
"Um, I suppose it's too much to hope that my coat can be salvaged," Daniel guessed.
"Not unless you can do the same thing to it," the president replied.
"Afraid not."
"Then I'd say we'll have to find you one to wear."
There was a knock on the door, and a marine entered with the news that the hit man had not been found, but that they were still looking for the weapon.
"That reminds me," Daniel said after the man was gone. "Someone needs to reschedule our trip back. I don't think we're going to be making our flight."
Sam looked at her C.O. "Any idea when we'll be heading back to Colorado, Colonel?"
"What are your plans, sir?" Jack asked the president.
"I intend to return to the White House once they've found that weapon and the forensics boys and Doctor Jackson have a chance to look at it."
Jack nodded and turned back to Sam. "Schedule a flight for this afternoon, Carter."
"Yes, sir."
A few minutes after the flight was rescheduled, someone came in to tell them that the weapon had been found. A forensics team was already on their way and would be there within a few minutes.
"Okay, Daniel. Let's see if you can find out who the guy is," Jack said.
"Good luck, Doctor Jackson," Hayes said, "though I'm guessing that you don't really need it, not for this."
"Thank you, sir."
Daniel and his teammates left the lounge, intent on finding the identity of a killer.
Robert Kinsey was having a hard time keeping himself from pacing. It was important that he not look nervous or tense. But why was it taking so long for the phone call? The assassination was supposed to be done at eight o'clock, which was when SG-1 was planning on leaving to catch their flight. Within moments of the president's death, the vice president should have been called, but there hadn't been one word from Camp David.
Just then, the phone rang.
"It's about time," Kinsey muttered. He picked up the receiver, preparing to sound shocked and horrified at the news of the president's death. Shocked and horrified were definitely the emotions he felt upon hearing the voice on the other end of the line.
"Hey, Bob," said Hayes. "There's been a bit of an incident here. Someone tried to shoot me."
It took Kinsey several seconds to regain his composure. "That's distressing news, Mister President. Any idea who it was?"
"We don't know who the shooter was yet, but we're working on it."
"Was . . . anyone hurt?"
"There was an injury, but everybody's fine."
Kinsey started mentally cursing up a blue streak. Not only had the assassin not gotten Hayes, he didn't get Jackson either. The incompetent idiot!
"Needless to say, I'll be coming back to the White House sooner than planned," Hayes said.
"Of course, sir. Do you want me to inform everyone about what happened?"
"You can pass on the news to the staff there, but I'll take care of everyone else."
After hanging up the phone, Kinsey leapt from his chair and went to the window, fighting not to scream in frustration. Every plan, every step taken to get control of the Stargate had failed or been thwarted, and, almost every time, one or more of SG-1 had been to blame. Kinsey had no doubt that such was the case this time, too. In fact, he was positive that Jackson was the one who screwed things up this time. Those damn abilities of his. If the people in the organization had just listened to him in the first place, Jackson would have been dead long ago, and they'd now have control of the Stargate.
Angrily, Kinsey logged onto his computer and got online. He opened the Webmail service he used for all correspondence with his contacts in the organization and for other less than legal business dealings. He began composing an email to the assassin.
"What the hell happened?" he wrote. "Not only didn't you get the president, you also missed the second target. I want an explanation."
Kinsey sent off the email. He then deleted the copy of it from his Sent box and emptied the Trash folder. After logging off, he went to his browser history and erased the visit to the Webmail service from it. The final thing he did was clear his cookies. These were all things he had learned to do after Colonel Maybourne got into his computer and found all the proof anyone would need that Kinsey was working with the NID.
That thought brought another one to Kinsey's mind, one that sent fear rushing through him. What if they figured out that he was involved in the assassination attempt? He'd covered his tracks, but that wouldn't stop Jackson from using his abilities. Would it be possible for the archeologist to divine something?
Kinsey recalled what happened when he was almost assassinated. The people behind it framed Jack O'Neill for the shooting. Something like that could be done again. Perhaps they could frame General Hammond as the person who hired the hit man. Some might question why Hammond would want the president dead, but evidence could be planted giving a motive. And this would succeed in getting Hammond out of the SGC. Kinsey would just have to convince Hayes that, because of his friendship with the general, O'Neill could not be trusted to take over command.
Convinced that this would be the perfect solution, Kinsey called his contact.
"The attempt failed," he said.
"How?"
"I don't know. The president didn't tell me any details. We need to do some damage control. I think it would be best to frame someone for the attempted assassination."
"For what purpose? We were careful not to reveal who we were to the hit man, and I'm seriously hoping that you did, too."
"Yes, I was careful. He has no idea who I am."
"Then what would be the point in framing someone? There's the danger that a frame-up could lead a smart investigator right to us."
Kinsey realized that he couldn't tell them about his fears of Jackson finding out the truth. They didn't know that the archeologist was there, so they weren't aware of the danger.
"I think that this could be another opportunity to get rid of Hammond," he said instead. "Frame him for it."
"General Hammond would have no motive to kill Hayes, and anything we contrived would be too flimsy. Besides, if we involve Hammond in this, we'd also involve Doctor Jackson, and, considering his abilities, that would not be smart."
Kinsey couldn't help but see the irony in the man's statement.
"It would be best just to leave things alone unless we have no choice but to take action," the man stated. "We will contact the hit man to find out what went wrong."
"I've already done so. I should be getting a reply from him within a few hours."
"Let us know what he says."
Kinsey disconnected the call, not knowing what he should do. If Jackson saw something that revealed his part in the assassination attempt, all he could do was deny it and say that the archeologist was lying and trying to frame him. After all, claims of a psychic vision was not hard evidence.
Knowing that there was nothing more he could do, Kinsey left the office to play the part of the outraged and concerned vice president.
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