06 - Siren Song (16 page)

It seemed to take forever, but Sebek lowered the knife. He wiped its edge on
his sleeve, smearing the t-shirt with Daniel’s blood. “We are already healing,”
he said, with an ugly smirk. “But we are touched by your concern.”

The light began to creep along the edges of the door, then toward the center,
filling and illuminating each individual glyph. Brighter and brighter, until
Jack had to use one hand to shield his eyes. At last it winked out. The ground
rumbled, deep vibrations in the earth beneath their feet, and the vault door
began to slide open, shedding dust and dirt as it rolled over a long-abandoned threshold.

When the tremors stopped and the door to the darkness beyond stood open, cold
sweat beaded across Jack’s face. Sebek was behind him now, and when he spoke,
Jack could feel warm breath against the back of his neck. “Jack,” Sebek said,
and laughed, a low, menacing sound. “You will lead the way.”

It took the Tok’ra less time than Hammond expected to send a representative,
and when they did, it was Jacob Carter who stepped through the ’gate. Not alone,
however: he had a second Tok’ra with him, someone Hammond didn’t recognize, a
young-looking man with curly hair and a grim expression on the sharp-featured
face. The eyes were narrowed, like he was reserving judgment but was certain all
suspicions would be confirmed. The expression wasn’t unusual. In Hammond’s
experience, the Tok’ra often seemed grim and disapproving, like they were
waiting to be proven right. He conceded that millennia of fighting Goa’uld would
have the same effect on him, if he were ever unfortunate enough to live that
long. Although he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be quite so superior about it.

“George,” Jacob said, with a warm smile and a handshake. “It’s good to see
you again, even under the circumstances.”

“Good to see you too, Jacob.” Hammond’s friendship with Sam Carter’s father
had been one of the most enduring of his life. He’d known Jacob for twenty
years, and symbiote notwithstanding, he was always pleased by Jacob’s rare
visits home.

Jacob scanned the room, looking for his daughter, as he always did. Chances
for them to spend time together were few and far between. “Is Sam offworld?”

“That’s why we’ve called you,” Hammond said. Comprehension dawned at once in
Jacob’s eyes, but Hammond continued on with the details, since the scraps of
information they had might be useful in some way, if only to ease Jacob’s mind
that they were doing all they could. “SG-1 is missing. Disappeared from P54-X3J
during a routine meet-and-greet.”

“Captured?” Jacob asked.

“That’s the theory. We’ve got some intel to that effect.”

“Right,” Jacob said, processing the possibilities. He sighed, then nodded to
the Tok’ra at his side. “This is Malek.”

“Of course,” Hammond said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Pieces from various
mission reports slid out of memory and into place, providing him with the
information he needed to deal with this man: Malek, the Tok’ra who had helped to
solidify the fragile alliance between the Jaffa and Tok’ra, and who had defended
the Queen, Egeria. He was a known quantity now that SG-1 had encountered him
several times over the past year, but his name had stuck in Hammond’s mind
because Teal’c’s opinion of him had been less than complimentary. He’d stopped
short of calling Malek a coward, but his mission report had been clear about how
he didn’t think Malek could be relied upon to assist in a close-quarters fight.

Malek inclined his head, a bit stiffly as was usual for the Tok’ra, and said,
“It is an honor, General.”

Jacob squinted at Hammond. “How long has it been since you’ve had any sleep,
George?”

“You mean, a full night’s worth?” Hammond answered, and a smile twisted
Jacob’s lips.

“You know damn well what I mean. You don’t look so good.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Hammond said. He gestured toward the door. “Let’s
adjourn to the briefing room, where we can talk.”

Hammond found it comforting to have Jacob there as a sounding board, someone
to run all the details by, to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. He gave Jacob
a copy of SG-14’s mission report, but verbally summarized the high points to
spare him the trouble of paging through it. Malek, however, began reading as
soon as Hammond set the folder in front of him, and continued in tense silence
throughout the briefing, his head bowed over the document.

“SG-14 brought back one of the natives, the Relosians.” Hammond pointed at
the file on the table in front of Jacob. “He tells us that a man paid him to
lure one of the team members into a trap. We don’t think that, beyond this one
individual, the Relosians are to blame here. They haven’t seen a Goa’uld in
several generations, and we don’t believe they had any reason to harm our people.”

“You’re completely certain about that?” Jacob looked skeptical. “At least one
of them had reason.”

“Internal politics. The man has some idea of becoming the leader, the…”
Hammond thumbed the next page open in his file, “…the Princep of his people,
and was interested in disrupting the incumbent’s alliance with us. He doesn’t
seem to have had accomplices. He insists that SG-1 was taken offworld. Major
Harper assured me that his team searched the area thoroughly. If SG-1 is still
there, they’re hidden from sight, but my gut tells me they aren’t there.”

“So does mine.” Jacob folded his hands on the tabletop and was quiet for a
moment. “If one of the System Lords has captured them, I think we might have
heard about it by now. SG-1 is a big prize. Not something any glory-seeking
System Lord would keep quiet, not the way the rivalries within their ranks are
working these days.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Unfortunately, that doesn’t leave many obvious
options.”

At that, Malek raised his head. “No. It does not.” He glanced at Jacob. “And
we do not have the resources to spare to locate them.” Jacob met his eyes, and
for a moment, a silent communication passed between the two of them. Clearly,
there was some argument simmering here that had been put on hold before they’d
set out for Earth.

“I’m not asking that you pull Tok’ra away from their assignments,” Hammond
said. “Just that you give us whatever intel you can. We’ll take care of the
rest.”

“There’s something else.” Jacob’s fingers tapped against each other, before
he stilled his hands. “I know you’re thinking about their personal safety—hell, I am, too. But I also know you’re thinking about the threat they represent
to your security here, if they’ve been captured.”

“It’s a threat we’ve faced before,” Hammond said. The long list of security
breaches unfurled itself in his mind’s eye. This was not a new concern.

“Well, yes, but now there’s more to it. Ever since you’ve allied with the Tok’ra, every capture of SGC personnel has the potential to cause
damage to our network as well. This is a… growing problem… for the Tok’ra.”

“Of course,” Hammond said. Malek shifted in his chair impatiently, giving a
hint of what he was thinking. Hammond added, “This is why it was agreed between
us that the SGC would never need specific information as to the whereabouts of
Tok’ra bases or the placement of Tok’ra operatives. Despite the fact that we
have shared information of a sensitive nature with you.” The pointed reminder
wasn’t meant for Jacob, but for Malek, who zeroed in on it immediately.

“What you ask of us is problematic at best,” Malek said. “General, I am not
unsympathetic to what you require, and I recognize you do not have the offworld
resources to accomplish recovery of your team without our assistance. But you
must realize, the Tok’ra nation is less than one quarter the strength it was
when we first became your allies. The threat of infiltration and annihilation of
the Tok’ra grows every day.”

“Your point being?” Hammond asked. Jacob was looking down at his tightly
clasped hands. Hammond’s jaw set into a hard square, and his eyes narrowed. “Are
you refusing to assist us? Jacob?”

“George…” Jacob looked up again, and when he spoke, Selmak had control of
him, and spoke with the deep, distorted tones of the symbiote. “General Hammond,
you must understand that it is not lack of willingness on our part. But there
are those on the Tok’ra Council who would argue that if we were to locate
Colonel O’Neill and the others, it would be more practical to quietly
assassinate your personnel than to attempt a rescue that could expose an
operative to suspicion.”

So that was it. No wonder Jacob had had difficulty articulating it. It fell
to Selmak to represent the Tok’ra’s true concern. A flash of anger burned
through Hammond—they’d sacrificed a hell of a lot to help the Tok’ra, the
arrogant bastards, though the Tok’ra always seemed to think it was the other way
around. He squashed the quick words of anger that rose to the surface, and
instead said, “Selmak, I shouldn’t have to tell you that this is not acceptable
to us. If you take any step in that direction, our alliance will be immediately severed.”

“Yes, General. I do understand. I have made this point to the others several
times, but there are still many Tok’ra who believe we do not need this alliance—that the Tauri represent a greater hindrance than help to our cause.” Selmak
stopped speaking, and Jacob’s head dropped down again.

This time, it was Jacob who spoke. “George, you already know I don’t agree.
Obviously. Selmak doesn’t either.”

“Nor do I,” Malek said, though he still looked as though there was a great
deal he was leaving unsaid. “However, I remain deeply concerned about the threat
to our cause, and have been for some time.”

“If I remember correctly, we’ve sheltered your people at some great risk to
ourselves,” Hammond said. “It would seem to me that the threat to your cause
often comes from within your organization. Not from us.”

Jacob nodded. “That may be true. But, much as I hate to say it, our
operatives are spread pretty thin right now. We don’t have a lot of leeway to
spend time tracking down SG-1. Despite my personal connection to this… we can
only do what we can do.”

“General, I should add that the Tok’ra cannot be summoned this way every time
your personnel turn up missing. It is an unfortunate fact of war that some will
be lost.” Malek paused, then said, “While I have the greatest respect for the
members of SG-1, they cannot be held in higher esteem than the millions of
others the Tok’ra fight to free.”

Hammond met Malek’s eyes and held that gaze for a long, long moment.
Politics. Damn, he loathed the entire structure of threat, compromise, and
rhetoric. When Malek finally looked away, Hammond said, “No disrespect intended,
Malek, but I’m well aware of what’s at stake. I’m afraid you don’t understand
our position here. The Tok’ra and the Tauri are allies. To us this means that
when we make a request for assistance, we expect it to be answered in the
affirmative.”

“You speak of requests when what you truly make are demands,”

Malek said. He lifted his chin. “Is this the way the Tauri treat their
supposed allies?”

Jacob held up a hand. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. There’s no reason for
this to degenerate into a pissing contest.” He tapped his copy of the mission
report, still unopened in front of him. “Let’s go with the assumption that
they’re not on P54-X3J and that, if they are, your people will handle it.”

“I’m with you so far,” Hammond said.

“And they probably haven’t been captured by a System Lord, so if they’ve
fallen into the hands of a Goa’uld, he’s planning to use them for something
else. Say, to get Earth’s security information out of them.”

“There are many other reasons SG-1 might prove useful to a Goa’uld,” Malek
said. “It may be that their chief use is to provide the pleasure of watching
them die slowly.”

Jacob winced. For a moment, Hammond could not stop the flood of images those
words brought with them; he’d read Dr. Fraiser’s reports after the Colonel’s
return from Ba’al’s fortress, as well as Teal’c’s report of torture by Heru’ur’s
guards. And those were only a couple of the instances that came to mind. He knew
the risks, and the horror of it.

“The ‘why’ of their capture might tell us who has them,” Jacob said. “Have
they been working on anything in particular the Goa’uld might want them for?
Pissed anyone off lately?”

“Hard to say,” Hammond said. “This is SG-1 we’re talking about. Over the
years, they’ve accumulated a lot of enemies.”

“Fortunately, most of the Goa’uld they have offended are dead now,” Malek
said. “Many by the hand of SG-1.”

“There are still a few out there,” Jacob said.

“It’s a short list,” Hammond answered. “However, I’ll have my people go back
through the mission reports, to see if there are any loose ends that might lead
somewhere.”

“We’ll put the word out to our operatives, to be on the lookout,” Jacob said.

Malek rose from the table and bowed. “I will see to it, Selmak. General, with
your permission,” he said.

Hammond nodded, then gestured one of the security personnel over. “Go with
the airman. He’ll give you whatever you need.”

Jacob waited until Malek was out of sight on the staircase before he said,
“George, don’t overestimate what we can do. They could be anywhere. It’s a big
galaxy out there.”

“I know that, Jacob.” Hammond sat back in his chair. His back was aching and
his stomach was growling, but at least he was feeling more hopeful than he had
been before Jacob showed up. “Don’t underestimate your daughter. Or Jack, or
Teal’c, or Dr. Jackson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jacob stretched and sat back, mirroring Hammond’s
posture. “I don’t suppose we could grab some coffee, could we?”

“I thought coffee didn’t agree with Selmak,” Hammond said.

Jacob’s face fell, revealing the true depth of his weariness. “He’s going to
make an exception, in this case. ’Gate travel really takes it out of me these
days.”