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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Despite Ferretti's suspicions, it turned out that Daniel had not sent a memo to everyone.  Even so, by the end of the day, there wasn't a soul on base who didn't know what had happened, and it seemed to the poor lieutenant colonel that at least half of them had taken the time to seek him out just to make some kind of wisecrack or to look at the interior decorating job Daniel had done on his office.

It was nearly five when the cause of Ferretti's misery came to his office.

"Hey, Ferretti.  I see you managed to wash the paint off," Daniel said in a friendly tone.

"You are a cruel, cruel man, Daniel," the airman groused.

Daniel smiled slightly.  "No, if I was a cruel man, I'd have used oil-based paint."  His smile grew.  "I didn't want anyone to have to take the time and effort to go get several gallons of paint thinner."

Ferretti failed to appreciate the small kindness, at least at first.  Then he got an image of himself being pink for several days as he waited for the paint he couldn't get off to finally wear off.  Looked at that way, the fact that Daniel had used latex paint, which comes off with soap and water, really had been an act of kindness.

"Yeah, okay, so it could have been worse," Ferretti admitted grouchily.  Then his tone rose again.  "But did you have to paint my walls and ceiling with pink polka dots?!  You know how I hate polka dots!  I swear I'm going insane looking at them."

With another smile, Daniel stepped over to a wall.  He picked at the edge of one of the dots, and, to Ferretti's great surprise, peeled it right off.

"It's not paint, Ferretti," Daniel explained.  "They're stickers."

"Stickers?"

"Uh huh."

Ferretti was silent for a long moment.  "You could have done a whole lot worse to me, couldn't you."

"Yep."

"I probably don't want to think of all the things you imagined doing."

"Oh, they weren't so bad, not really, nothing involving nakedness."

Ferretti sighed, the last of his anger dissipating.  "I'm really sorry for what I did, Daniel," he said, his voice ringing with sincerity.  "No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings.  I want to ask you something, though.  Why did you do it?  Was it really just because you decided to pick me to play a joke on, and you thought getting me drunk would be funny?"

"No.  I mean, yes, I thought getting you drunk would be funny. . . ."

"But?"

"But. . . ."  Ferretti met his eyes.  "We missed you around here, Daniel, during that year you were gone.  And Jack. . . ."  Ferretti shook his head.  "He put on a good act.  Most people wouldn't have seen past it.  But I know him better than most people, and, every now and then, I saw the mask slip and reveal how much he was hurting inside."  He met Daniel's eyes.  "And I was the one who went to his house on Christmas Day and found him smashed out of his gourd on a bottle of Jack Daniels.  Jack laughed at the irony of the name.  Jack Daniels.  Jack and Daniel.  He said that there hadn't been very much 'Jack and Daniel' toward the end.  And then he cried.  I never thought that I'd see that man cry, and I never want to again."

Tears had welled up in Daniel's eyes, his throat aching.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know this.

"He never said a word about it later," Ferretti continued.  "I don't even know if he remembered any of it.  I know this isn't something that us strong, he-men military types are supposed to talk about, but he loves you, Daniel.  You're more than his best friend; you're like his brother, his family."

"I know," Daniel said in a slightly hoarse voice.

"It was really great having you there at the Christmas and New Year's Eve parties, seeing Jack and everyone else that happy.  I know it's an idiotic and asinine excuse for why I decided to have some fun with you and get you drunk, but there you have it."

Daniel was quiet for a long moment.  "Thanks for telling me."

Ferretti gave a single nod.  "Please don't tell Jack that I told you about the . . . you know.  He'd do something really awful to me if he found out."

The archeologist smiled.  "Don't worry.  It'll be our secret."

"Thanks.  You're a good man, Daniel.  A wicked sense of humor, but a good man all the same."


It ended up taking eight days to do the bulk of the cataloging of the artifacts from M3H-827.  There were still some pieces yet to do, but Daniel's other work finally had to take precedence, and he left the remainder of the job in the capable hands of his staff, one of whom was Cameron Balinsky, who didn't let the cast on his lower leg keep him out of the "action," despite Janet's disapproval.

Daniel was able to focus his attention on his other work for only a few days since SG-1 had yet another mission.  Fortunately, it turned out to be routine, lasting only a day and a half.  Considering the pile of work on his desk waiting to be done, Daniel was especially happy about that.

After the debriefing, Daniel got to work right away on the mission report, wanting to get it out of the way as soon as possible.  Once it was finished, he decided to get some more work done on the mound of projects that had piled up while he was busy cataloging the artifacts, though it was already getting kind of late.  Figuring that he'd just spend a couple of hours on it, he got started.

Sometime later, Daniel squinted with tired eyes at the clock and realized with surprise that it was going on five a.m.  Where had the time gone?  Well, so much for only working for a couple of hours.

At that moment, a huge yawn snuck up on him.  Deciding that he should get at least a couple of hours of sleep, he laid down on the cot he kept in his office.  Moments later, he was asleep.  It was a while after that that the dream came.  In a march of images, sounds, feelings and impressions, Daniel watched the future unfold before his mind's eye, a future that awakened him with a start.

Daniel sat up, his mind going over what he'd just seen.  He looked at the clock, seeing that it was almost seven.  The archeologist knew what he had to do.  There was no doubt in his mind.  He had to try to stop what he'd seen from coming true.

Daniel took a long, very hot shower to clear his head fully.  He had breakfast in the commissary but didn't really taste the food he was eating, his mind too focused on what he was going to do.  Back in his office, he made reservations for a flight out, finding a seat on the one o'clock flight, which would arrive at its destination shortly after eight.  Considering that he was making same-day reservations, he knew that he was lucky to have gotten that flight.

Glancing at the clock, Daniel did some quick mental math on when he'd have to leave to get to the Denver airport on time and realized that he didn't have a great deal of time to spare.

The linguist knew that he couldn't just take off without telling anyone.  He had to at least inform General Hammond that he was leaving and would be gone for a couple of days.  Daniel didn't know what he was going to do about Jack.  If he told the colonel that he had to go out of town, there was no way that he'd be able to get out of the mountain without Jack demanding to know where he was going, and if he told Jack that, the man would insist on going, too, and that was something Daniel couldn't allow.  He had to deal with this in his own way, and Jack would just cause problems.  So, Daniel would have to get off the base without Jack knowing, which wouldn't be all that difficult unless he was unlucky enough to run into the colonel on the way out.

Daniel headed to Hammond's office, composing in his head what he was going to say.

"Sir, I need to talk to you," he said when he arrived.

"Certainly.  Come in."

Daniel closed the door and sat on one of the chairs.  "Something has come up, and I have to leaving town immediately.  I'll only be gone a couple of days."

General Hammond looked at him sharply.  "Is this something serious?"

"Yes, sir, it is."

Hammond's gaze grew even sharper.  "I get the suspicion that this is not a trip for personal reasons."

Daniel hesitated before replying.  "No, I'm afraid it isn't."

"I also get the feeling that, if I asked you to explain, you'd tell me that you can't."

"Yes, that's, um, pretty much what I'd say, sir.  I'm sorry."

"I see."  There was a pause.  "There are two things that I have to know, then.  The first is if you will be putting yourself in any kind of danger."

Daniel shook his head.  "No, sir.  I'll be perfectly safe."

"That's good.  The second thing is if what you are intending to do could compromise the Stargate Program in any way."

"No, it won't compromise the program.  I'm hoping that it will do just the opposite."

"The opposite?"

"Yes, sir.  Please don't ask me to explain further.  All I can tell you is that I have to try to stop something from happening that will greatly affect the SGC and maybe the whole planet."

Hammond studied his features for a long moment, then gave a nod.  "Very well, Doctor Jackson.  I've learned that only a fool would fail to trust you when it comes to situations like this."

"Thank you, sir.  Um, there is one thing."

"Yes?"

"I can't let Jack know that I'm leaving since he'll insist on going with me, and that would cause all kinds of problems."

"And you want me to run interference, keep him busy until after you're gone."

"Yes, sir."

"All right.  I'm sure I can think of something to keep him tied up with for a while.  How much time do you need?"

Daniel looked at his watch again.  "I'll be leaving here in about half an hour.  I have to go home and pack, then I'll be on my way to the airport.  I'll probably leave my cell phone off for the rest of the day since, by the time I get to my destination, it will be night, and I really don't want to have to deal with Jack tonight."

"So, a couple of hours?"

"Yes, sir, that should do it."

"Very well."

Daniel rose to his feet and headed for the door.

"Whatever it is that you're going to do, I wish you good luck and Godspeed," Hammond said.

"Thank you, General.  I just might need it."  Daniel reached for the door handle, then paused.  He turned back to Hammond.  "Sir, there is one other thing I think I might need."


Sam headed with determination toward Daniel's office.  The last time she tried to ask him out, she had gotten so nervous that she ended up stuttering like a shy teenager asking the most popular boy in school for a date.  This time, she wasn't nervous at all.  She was too determined to beat fate at its own game and ask her question before some new catastrophe or other interruption got in her way.

Stopping at the elevator, Sam hit the down button.  When the doors opened, she was shocked to see Daniel in the car, dressed in civilian clothing.

"You're just arriving?" she asked as she got on.

"No."  He hit the button for the eleventh floor, the highest floor that this elevator would go to.  "Actually, I'm just leaving."

"Leaving?  But . . . but . . . leaving where?"  'No, he can't be leaving!' she shouted in her mind.  'This is not fair!'  Just then, Sam noticed his clothing.  "Isn't that what you were wearing yesterday?"

"Yes, I've been here all night."

Sam shook her head.  "Daniel, you really need to stop doing that."  She gave him a smile.  "You're worse than I am."

"Yeah, I guess I am," Daniel said.

There was something off in Daniel's tone of voice, a forced quality to the lightness that shouldn't have been there.

"Something's wrong," Sam immediately surmised.

Daniel met her eyes.  "Yeah.  I have to go out of town for a couple of days."

"Out of town?  Where?"

"I can't tell you, Sam."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll feel like you need to come with me, and, though it would be a lot better having you with me than Jack, I really need to do this alone."

Sam's voice hardened.  "Okay, Daniel, what's going on?"

"I had another vision, Sam, and, now, I have to try and stop something from happening."

"Daniel, this isn't another situation like with Kinsey, is it?"

"No.  I will be in absolutely no danger.  I promise."

The doors opened on the eleventh floor, and Daniel headed straight toward the elevator that would take him up to the ground floor.  Sam's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Daniel, I'm not going to insist that you tell me where you're going or what you're going to do.  First of all, I'd be wasting my breath.  Second, I know that I can trust that you're not lying to me about not being in danger."

"I'm not, Sam.  About the only danger I'd be in is if my flight crashes or my taxi gets into a wreck."

"Okay.  You'll be back on Friday?"

"Yes."

"And you'll tell us about this then?"

"I don't know, Sam.  I will if I can."

"Okay."  Sam scanned his eyes deeply.  "Good luck."

This time, she got a genuine smile from Daniel.  "Thanks, and thanks for not pushing."

"Well, I'm not the colonel.  I know when not to push.  Speaking of the colonel, if he finds out you're gone. . . ."

"Don't worry.  General Hammond's going to keep him busy until it's too late for him to do anything."

Sam's eyebrows rose.  "General Hammond?  Then he knows where you're going?"

"No, I couldn't tell him either, although he probably has a good idea."  Daniel looked at his watch.  "I really need to get going, Sam.  I'll see you in a couple of days."

Sam watched him sign out at the security desk, then get on the elevator going up.  She then returned to the other elevator and headed back down, hoping that, whatever it was that Daniel was going to do, he would succeed, her instincts telling her that, if he failed, a whole lot would be changing for all of them.


"Where the hell are you?!"

Daniel jerked the cell phone away from his ear, the decibel level of Jack's voice as he continued to rant still clearly audible from two feet away.  He was going on about having tried to call Daniel all night and demanding to know if Daniel ever listened to his voice mail.  The truth was that the archeologist had listened to his voice mail this morning and had already gotten an earful from the irate colonel.

"Jack, please calm down," Daniel said into the phone when the other man finally fell silent.

"Oh, I'm calm, Daniel, perfectly calm," the colonel said in an excessively mild voice.  "Why shouldn't I be calm?  A member of my team has suddenly run off to God knows where without telling a soul where he's gone.  What is there not to be calm about?"

By the end of the statement, the sarcasm was leaking through heavily, causing Daniel to sigh.  "I'm sorry, Jack.  I couldn't tell anyone where I was going or why."

"And why is that, Daniel?"

"Because, if you'd known, you'd have insisted on coming, and, quite frankly, Jack, you'd have been a major pain in the ass."

That caused the colonel a moment's pause.  "Daniel, you had better not be doing something like that stuff with Kinsey."

"Don't worry, Jack.  I won't be doing any sneaking around or anything else like that.  This time, I'll be walking in the front door.  Speaking of which, I'm getting ready to do that now, so I'll talk to you later."

Daniel disconnected the call and turned off his phone, not wanting to take the chance that Jack or someone else would try to call him again.  He looked at the structure before him.  Taking a deep breath, he stepped toward the security gate, hoping that the man he'd come to see would allow him in.


President Henry Hayes sat down and prepared himself to resume listening to the heated argument that had been going on for a good chunk of the morning, an argument about a program that, up until yesterday morning, he hadn't even known existed.  Hayes hated the fact that he'd had only a day to familiarize himself with the Stargate Program and the people in charge of it before being thrust into the middle of this argument about the competence and character of the SGC's commander and premier off-world team.  He had just called for a short break so that he could absorb what had been said and ended up getting into a confrontation with Vice President Kinsey, who was starting to piss Hayes off with his arrogance and holier than thou attitude.

The first person to come back into the room was General Francis Maynard, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, who had no sense of humor, but was a man of strong principles and fought for what he believed in.  The general was a staunch supporter of General Hammond, the commander of Stargate Command, and the SGC's first-line team, SG-1.

The next to enter were the two members on the opposing side, Vice President Robert Kinsey and Mister Richard Woolsey, both of whom were under the impression that Hammond and all of the members of SG-1 were dangerously incompetent, possibly mentally unstable, and should be booted out of the program.

"All right, let's get back to business," Hayes said as the three men took seats.

Woolsey was the first to resume.  "According to the military, Stargate Command is our first and best line of defense against potential alien threats to this planet. If that's true, we should be very, very concerned.  Time and again General Hammond and SG-1 have demonstrated shockingly poor judgment, placing themselves, the base, this very planet in jeopardy.  The decision to bring back suspect technology through the gate has precipitated a number of crisis situations.  For the most part, they've been dealt with within the confines of the SGC.  However, last year, the effect of an alien device broke containment and found its way into the civilian population."

He went on to describe the incident, one where several civilians witnessed alien creatures running around the countryside.

"The situation was taken care of," Maynard responded.  "A cover story was created, and the civilian population was none the wiser."

"Well, I, for one, would like to know how many more times we're gonna have to clean up after these people," stated Kinsey.

"They have a mandate to acquire off-world technology, and that entails necessary risks."

"And how would you define 'necessary'?" Woolsey asked.  "Only a few months ago, General Hammond allowed the testing of an unproven computer virus that infected and shut down our entire gate network, leaving us open to a potential planetary assault."

"You can't hold Hammond responsible for that!" Maynard exclaimed.  "It was a Goa'uld modification of the virus that caused the problem."

"In other words, General Hammond effectively gave the Goa'uld a weapon to use against us."

Maynard was going to respond, but was beaten to the punch by Kinsey.

"And speaking of weapons, there is another one we should all be very, very worried about," the vice president said.  "As greatly concerned as I am about General Hammond's ability to command the SGC and the many times that he and the members of SG-1 displayed poor judgment that could have resulted in serious repercussions to this planet, what concerns me even more is what is presently happening with Doctor Jackson."

"You're talking about the psychic abilities he has developed," Maynard said, frowning.

"Yes, abilities with a frightening potential for destruction."

"Okay, I didn't get a chance to read all of the reports about this," Hayes said, "but what I did read absolutely astounded me.  It is mind-boggling that any human being could have that much power."

Kinsey leaned forward.  "Mind-boggling is a very good word, Mister President.  I have to wonder how mentally stable any individual who suddenly develops that kind of power can remain."

"Well, he seems to be doing a damn fine job of handling it so far," Maynard stated.  "He was personally responsible for capturing Osiris, has saved the lives of dozens of Stargate personnel with his abilities, defeated forces sent by Anubis to destroy the only weapon we have against them, saved hundreds of human lives on another planet that were threatened by a volcano, and, most recently, successfully commanded a force of four SG teams and a thousand Jaffa against a Goa'uld stronghold, capturing Ba'al in the process.  The man is a hero we should all be thankful is on our side."

"But how long will he remain on our side, and how long can we trust his judgment and mental state?" Woolsey asked.  "In talking with Doctor Jackson, I developed deep concerns that these abilities of his have gone to his head, sending him on a kind of power trip.  And I'm not the only one who feels that way."  He pulled out a file folder.  "This is the report on a psychological evaluation done on Doctor Jackson.  The psychiatrist determined that he is skirting the edge of megalomania and should be committed to Mental Health for further evaluation and possibly drug therapy."

"Let me see that."  Maynard took the report.  "This was written by Doctor MacKenzie."

"Yes, who has served as the Head of Psychiatry for the Stargate Program almost since its inception."

"Did serve.  As I'm sure you already know, Doctor MacKenzie was tossed out of the program nearly two months ago.  He was subsequently discharged from his duties at the Mental Health facility of the Air Force Academy Hospital and will very likely be discharged from military service.  A review board is presently considering revoking his license to practice psychiatry.  The reason for all of that is this ridiculous report," Maynard waved the file, "and the disgraceful manner in which he conducted the psychological evaluation on Doctor Jackson.  Two other experts in psychology determined that Doctor Jackson is in perfect mental heath and that Doctor MacKenzie was full of crap.  This report was never entered into Doctor Jackson's file, and I have to wonder how you got hold of it."

"How I got it is not the issue here.  What I have to wonder is if what happened to Doctor MacKenzie is evidence of certain individuals covering things up to make sure that Doctor Jackson remains at the SGC."

Hayes stared at Woolsey.  "Are you accusing General Hammond and others of tossing MacKenzie out, destroying his career, and making up a false psychological report so that they can keep Doctor Jackson where he is?"

"I think it is very possible.  There is no doubt that a lot of high-ranking members of the military want to keep Jackson in the program.  In fact, they very recently offered him command of his own team.  He has become the Stargate Program's golden boy, a weapon they don't want to lose."

"A weapon that could destroy us all," Kinsey added.  "I cannot tell you how disturbed I am at the thought of any human being possessing that much power, particularly someone like Daniel Jackson."

"What do you mean someone like Daniel Jackson?" Maynard asked.  "The man's morality and integrity is without question."

"I have to agree with that one, Bob," Hayes stated.  "From what I saw in the reports I've read so far, the guy's been acting as a kind of moral watchdog for the program from day one.  Some pretty big mistakes would have been made if not for him."

"Oh, yes, he has set himself up as the voice of conscience for the Stargate Program, but how do we know what's really inside his mind and heart?" Kinsey asked with a sneer.  "For one thing, he has repeatedly displayed a tendency to choose the welfare of aliens and alien cultures over that of Earth."

"When is that?" Maynard asked angrily.  "When he kept us from wrongfully imprisoning a peaceful group of aliens who had technology we wanted?  When he tried to stop us from making a deal with a fanatical group of Nazi-like clones who had committed genocide?  When he kept us from treating a race of highly intelligent beings like animals and forcing them off their homeworld so that we could get our hands on their Naquadah, a race that, because of his intervention and diplomatic skills, is now an ally?"

"Yes, it all looks pretty on paper if you choose to look at it that way," Kinsey responded, "but the fact remains that Daniel Jackson is dangerous, a threat to this nation, possibly to this planet.  There is no telling when he may decide to try taking control."

"Control of what, Bob?" Hayes asked, almost laughing.  "The country?  The planet?  You act like he's the next Hitler."

"Oh, he is far, far more dangerous than Hitler could ever have dreamed of being."

A knock on the door halted the conversation.  Hayes called for the person to enter.  The Chief of Staff stepped into the room.

"I apologize for disturbing you, Mister President, but there is someone who is asking to see you, and he's pretty insistent.  He doesn't have an appointment.  He says his name is Doctor Daniel Jackson."

Hayes' eyebrows rose.  "Well, speak of the devil."

"Don't let him in, Mister President," Kinsey said quickly.  "It's too dangerous.  You don't know what he might be planning."

Ignoring him, Hayes looked at his Chief of Staff.  "Did Doctor Jackson say why he wants to speak to me?"

"Well, sir, that's the strange part.  He said that he is aware of what is going on and thought that you might like to hear a more logical point of view than that of Mister Woolsey and the vice president."

"You hear that?  You hear what he said?  He knows what we've been saying.  This power of his is unnatural!" Kinsey hissed.

"Please step out for a moment, Stan," Hayes told the Chief of Staff, who immediately obeyed.

"The man knows things he shouldn't," Kinsey continued more loudly.  "No secret is safe from his unnatural power."

Hayes stared at the vice president.  "You act like you're afraid of him."

"Yes.  Yes, I am afraid.  Jackson could kill us all with a mere thought.  I'd be a fool not to be afraid."

"Doctor Jackson would never for one moment consider doing anything like that," Maynard insisted.

"How can we be sure of that?  Mister President, you must not let him in here!"

Hayes' voice hardened.  "I think that's my decision to make, Bob.  I, for one, would like to know what he has to say."  He called the Chief of Staff back in.  "Tell the guards to let Doctor Jackson in.  Have him escorted here."

"Yes, sir."  The man left.

"You are making a terrible mistake, Mister President," Kinsey told him.

"I have to agree that allowing Doctor Jackson to come in here may not be a wise course of action, sir," Woolsey said.

Hayes stared at the man.  "What, you think he's going to kill us all, too?" he asked in amusement.

"No, sir, but I do believe that, if Doctor Jackson has found out what this meeting is about, he is here to attempt to sway your decision in favor of himself, the rest of his teammate and General Hammond."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to hear what he has to say.  Besides, I'm rather eager to meet a man who can do the things he can."

Ignoring the expression on Kinsey's face, President Hayes sat back to await the arrival of the person who was, in a very literal way, the most powerful man on Earth.

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