Title: Inquisition
Author: Flatkatsi
Email: flatkatsi@optusnet.com.au
Status: Complete
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst
Pairings: None
Spoilers: None
Season: Any
Rating: PG13
Content Warnings: Jack whumping, torture
Archive: Incoming Wormhole, Jackfic
Summary: Demons come in all forms
Disclaimer: Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.
Author’s Note: Karen of Knox Villa made me do it. Nutty helped.
They were well concealed behind thick bushes at the top of the ridge, overlooking the large village – more of a town really, it’s streets paved with cobblestones, several substantial buildings lining the main thoroughfare. They watched as the day-to-day lives of the people flowed below them, men hurrying to work, women sweeping the steps. Children playing. All in all, nothing out of the ordinary. Daniel had put the level of development at late medieval, pointing out the small panes of glass in the windows, the open drains and general lack of hygiene. Sam had responded by noting the dresses on the women – ankle length with heavy sleeves and high necks. This had started a discussion on the medieval perception of women, brought swiftly to a halt when a middle-aged matron was thrown bodily out the front door of a house and given a hard cuff on the head by a man whom the watching team took to be her husband. Daniel had glanced at Jack, sensing his reaction, and saw narrowed eyes and lips thinned in disapproval.
Another hour of observation confirmed their suspicions – definitely a male dominated society. Daniel could feel Jack getting tenser by the minute, and was hardly surprised when he finally spoke.
“Okay, we’re out of here. There’s no reason to stick around.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam started to get up, careful to stay concealed. “There’s no sign of naquadah or any other useful resources here, and I can’t say that I want to get up front and personal with the natives.”
“Hold on a second.” Daniel peered through his binoculars. Something had caught his eye, shining in the centre of the village square.
“Daniel, come on. I don’t want to hang around here any longer than we have to.” Jack’s voice showed his irritation.
Daniel turned. He knew Jack wasn’t going to like what he was about to say.
“I think that you need to have a look at this.” He pointed down. “In the square.”
The machine gleamed silver and gold in the bright sunlight, the wagon that had concealed it trundling off down a side street.
“Looks like the snakes have been here after all.” Jack turned over, lying on his back, his sunglass covered eyes staring straight up, thinking. “We better go see what it is. Carter, I want you and Teal’c to stay here, and keep an eye on things.” He twisted and got to his feet. “If we aren’t back by nightfall, get back to the gate, and contact base.”
“Are you anticipating problems, O’Neill?”
“Not really, Teal’c,” Jack shook his head, “but there’s something about this place that I don’t like. That’s why I want you here, as backup.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if I went with you, Colonel, especially if it’s a machine down there?” Sam argued.
“No, Carter. I’ve just spent the last hour watching how these people treat their women.” He raised a hand, forestalling her protest. “I know that you can look after yourself, but I see no reason to antagonise the locals, and you and I both know that is exactly what will happen if you walk into that town. No, you stay here with Teal’c. That way I know Daniel and I have backup if anything goes wrong.”
Sam acknowledged her orders with a nod. Daniel could see her frustration, but she knew better than to argue with Jack when he was in this sort of mood. He picked up his pack and settled it on his shoulders, ready to follow the Colonel down the slope.
**********
“This looks very…quiet.” The uncomfortable feeling that Jack had experienced while watching the town was increasing with every step they took. They had reached the outskirts, the first buildings appearing to be small private dwellings, with more substantial homes further towards the centre. The few people that they had seen from the hill were conspicuous by their absence.
“Maybe it’s meal time?” Daniel was looking around him, searching for any sign of life, a worried frown on his face.
“I don’t like this one bit.” Jack settled his P90 more firmly, his finger twitching. “Keep alert.”
“As always, Jack,” came the distracted reply.
“Yeah – right!” The Colonel snorted, his mouth turned up slightly in a small smile.
They were almost at the machine, a large gleaming shape covered in symbols. Daniel was obviously finding it hard to not hurry forward, Jack could almost feel the tension in him, like a taut spring about to snap, but he hung back, letting Jack take the lead. A movement between two buildings on their right had Jack spinning, raising his weapon to watch a group of eight men approaching, solemnly dressed in blacks and browns. Jack could see no welcome in their faces; there were no friendly smiles.
“Hello. We are peaceful explorers.” Daniel launched into his standard spiel. “I am Daniel Jackson. This is Colonel O’Neill.”
The tall, gaunt man standing at the head of the group took a step forward. He was dressed completely in black, except for a small touch of white from the collar peeking above his robes, his face pasty and unhealthy looking.
“Welcome. I am Pater Yleek.” His expression belied his words; there was nothing of welcome in it. “What do you here?”
Daniel seemed oblivious to the undercurrent of hostility. “As I said, we are explorers. We would like to learn more about your people.”
“Why?” Again the Pater spoke, the other men remaining silent.
Jack didn’t wait for Daniel’s answer. Every nerve in his body was warning him that this was so not a good place to stay. He didn’t care about the machine. He just wanted out of there.
“True. Very good point.” He interrupted, out of the corner of his eye seeing Daniel shut his mouth, a look of surprise on his face. “We’ll leave you good folks in peace, and be on our way.”
“Jack…”
He didn’t even look at the other man. “Shut up, Daniel. We’re out of here.”
“I think not.” The Pater’s voice was cold and decisive, but Jack didn’t have time to do more than take a step back, before more men entered the square, crowding the two of them, forcing them closer together. Jack held his gun up threateningly, motioning them back, pleased that Daniel had also drawn his Beretta.
“Look,” he tried to reason with them, keeping his tone low, “We don’t want any trouble. Just let us go and no one will be hurt.”
His words were ignored as if he hadn’t spoken. They found themselves being pushed back, retreating, eyes searching for another way out. They ended with their backs against the wall of a low building, their weapons raised.
“Jack?” Daniel was looking to him for suggestions. He had only one, one that he was reluctant to take. Firing on unarmed men, no matter how threatening they seemed, was not in his nature.
The decision was taken out of his hands.
His head exploded with pain, the world tipped sideways, and the ground came up to meet him.
**********
Daniel rubbed his ear against his shoulder, trying to clear the ringing. His arms ached making him think that he had been hanging unconscious in these chains for quite some time. He tried to take his weight off his wrists, but his feet barely brushed the floor, already his toes were feeling the strain, curling in. His movements made him spin slightly, a painful pirouette held in place by the hook in the high ceiling.
He looked over to where Jack was similarly hanging, envious that the other man’s extra couple of inches allowed him to stand reasonably comfortably. He was pleased to see that Jack was finally looking a little more alert, the last hour or so spent hanging in this cell with an unconscious companion was one that he didn’t want to repeat in a hurry. All his shouted attempts to rouse his friend had been unsuccessful, until finally Jack had begun surfacing by himself.
“Daniel?”
“Hey Jack. You okay?”
Daniel watched as the other man straightened, raising his head to look around. It took several seconds before his eyes reached Daniel’s position, their light dull.
“Been better. How about you?”
“Wishing I was taller.” He saw Jack’s puzzled look and took pity on him. “I’m fine, considering the circumstances.”
“Yeah, about that.” Jack was trying to twist around, surveying the large room. “What the hell happened?” He sounded confused, unsure of himself, and Daniel could see the effort that it was taking him to stand upright, even with the help of the wide chains holding him in place.
“I think that they had someone on the rooftop above us. All I know is that one minute you were standing there next to me, the next there was a thump, and you were lying on the ground making friends with a brick.”
Jack blinked a few times before speaking. “A brick. That explains the headache then. How long was I out?”
“It also explains the blood on your face, Jack. You took quite a blow – probably about two hours, I’m not sure, I was unconscious for a lot of it. Someone hit me with a club.”
“Shit, Danny. You okay?” Daniel’s confession seemed to bring Jack fully alert for the first time since he had roused.
Daniel smiled at the concern in his friend’s voice “Better than you, I think.”
“Any idea what they want?”
“Well, judging by the culture, I’d say that they’re late medieval level in development.” Daniel thought for a moment. “The man who spoke to us looked like some sort of religious leader, by his clothes and title.”
“And that helps us how?”
Daniel felt a moment of annoyance, Jack’s expectation of an easy answer irritating him, then he took in the other man’s appearance, the blood still wet on the side of his face, the glazed eyes, and swallowed down his anger. He was about to continue when the sound of footsteps came from behind him. He held his breath, his spine tingling with the knowledge that someone was behind him that he could not see. He needn’t have worried. The steps continued until the Pater came into view, coming to a halt between the two hanging men.
“Good, I see that you have finally awoken.” He addressed Jack, “Now we can begin.”
“Now we can be released.” Jack spoke with conviction, as if he expected to be obeyed without question. Daniel thought of the many times he had used this same tactic. It never worked. He had once asked Jack why he bothered, and had received the off hand reply of “you never know, it may work one day.”
Today was obviously not the day.
“I will release you.” The answer was unexpected. “After you have answered some questions.”
“Great! What’s the capital of France? I can answer that – Paris. How about Independence Day? Fourth of July. That enough? Can we go now?”
“Where is the demon?” The Pater’s voice cut across Jack’s.
Daniel exchanged confused looks with the Colonel and shook his head slightly.
“Sorry – got no idea what you’re talking about.” Jack snapped out his reply.
“I explained before. We’re peaceful explorers.” Daniel decided that it didn’t hurt to try again. Maybe they hadn’t understood.
The black robed man ignored him completely, all his attention focused on Jack. “We saw you come from the Devil’s Circle. You were accompanied by your demon and a witch. Tell us where the demon is hiding, and I shall grant you release from your life of evil. We will find the truth, be certain of that.” He turned a dismissive eye to Daniel. “Do not think that your servant can help you. The only thing that can save you is confession.” He reached out and touched Jack’s arm, swinging him. “Tell me where the demon is.”
Jack kept his feet with difficulty, the stubborn look that Daniel knew so well settling over his face.
“Go to hell.”
Daniel winced. Given what he had deduced from the Pater’s words, that wasn’t the best answer.
The priest smiled and nodded, almost as if he had welcomed Jack’s reply. “No, but it is certain that you shall.”
Daniel shivered. He looked at the stern man in front of him, saw the light of the fanatic in his eyes and knew him for what he was.
An Inquisitor.
He did the most appropriate thing under the circumstances. He prayed. Prayed that Sam and Teal’c would rescue them soon.
**********
“I can’t see the Colonel any more.” Sam peered through the binoculars, trying to make sense of what had just happened. The Colonel and Daniel had met with a group of men in the square, that much she had been able to see, but the buildings had hidden them from view. Anxious minutes had passed, as they waited for the men to come in to sight again, but so far they could see no sign of them.
“They appear to have gone into one of the buildings on that side of the square.” Teal’c answered her. “The locals seemed unarmed. I am sure that there is nothing to be concerned about, Major Carter.”
Sam nodded, settling herself into a more comfortable position. She was probably worrying over nothing. “I suppose we will just have to wait.” She looked at her watch. “We might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
**********
There had been no more questions. The Inquisitor had been joined by three men, three of those that had been with him in the square. Candles had been lit, illuminating the far corners of the vast room.
What Daniel saw there made him gasp.
The instruments of torture, like something out of a museum. The low bench, chains on either side. The tongs and pinchers. The brazier, already lit, coals glowing hotly. The rack.
“My men are hunting your companions as we speak. It will not be long before they are found.” The pale face shone in the flickering light. “It would save us much time if you ordered your servants to reveal themselves.” He gestured, and the chains holding Jack in place were released by one of the men, as the other two stood waiting to support the Colonel. As the chains loosened, Jack swayed, his eyes closing for a moment. Daniel could see that the cut on his head was bleeding again, the fresh blood mingling with the old, his wrists cut and bleeding from holding the full weight of an unconscious man.
Daniel shook his head from side to side in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening to them. This was the sort of thing he read about in books, not experienced first hand. Their captors pulled Jack towards the table, ignoring his struggles as the Colonel’s tired and weakened body betrayed him, and pushed him on to it, pulling his arms above his head and his legs taut. Daniel saw him conceal a grimace of pain as ropes were tied around his wrists and ankles, fastening them in place. The ropes, in turn, were connected to handles. Jack turned his head and looked him straight in the eye, and Daniel saw that he knew exactly what was happening. The first twist of those handles came as no surprise, the unsmiling men taking turns to twist one handle, and then the next, giving no hint as to which limb would be stretched, the anticipation as much a part of the torture as the pain.
“Tell me where the demon is.” The Inquisitor’s voice was demanding.
Jack didn’t respond, as Daniel knew he wouldn’t. The following turns of the handles were like knives in Daniel’s gut. He watched Jack’s face go pale, his teeth biting on his lower lip until the blood ran.
“There isn’t any demon. We are human, just like you.” Daniel shouted the words into the gloom, trying to make them understand. “Please stop this.”
He heard the reply as the Pater bent over Jack.
“Tell your servant to be silent. I know the truth. You led your fiends through the Devil’s Circle. I am allowing you time to repent before God judges you. Confess that you are a servant of Satan, and tell us where the demon and the witch are, and I will give you a quick end.”
Daniel knew what was coming. He held his breath as Jack shook his head once more.
The handles turned again.
Jack tasted the blood in his mouth from his lip. The pain was almost exquisite in its intensity, rivalling any that he had felt before. After a quick look exchanged with Daniel, he kept his eyes open, looking up into the face of his torturer. He knew that there was no point in speaking. The man’s mind was made up. Jack had seen that look in the eyes of such men before. It made no difference if he answered the questions. It was the asking that was the point, not the answer.
He felt the pull of the ropes, felt his left arm stretching at an angle it wasn't designed to bear until it reached its limit and with a resounding crack he felt his elbow joint pop and shatter under the strain. But he kept his eyes open, fixed on his tormentor.
The sound of retching came from the other end of the room, where he knew that Daniel was still hanging in his chains. He didn’t turn. He could not allow himself to be distracted.
He divorced himself from what was happening, focusing on the smiling face of the man bending over him. Etching it deeply into his mind.
The agony burnt up his neck as his left shoulder was pulled from its socket, almost undoing him.
The priest turned away, his lips thinning. He left his side, moving away, and Jack let his lids close for a moment, blinking away the betraying moisture before it could be seen.
The sound of approaching footsteps had Jack snapping his eyes open again, to meet the dead ones of the priest.
“You are strong in the power of Satan. I can see that. But know this – I have the power of God behind me and his instruments of your salvation in my hand.” He ripped apart Jack’s shirt and bent. Jack’s eyes widened as he took in what the man held over him, its tip glowing red hot. The cross shaped brand plunged hard into his body, burning the symbol of God into the flesh of his side.
He slipped into darkness accompanied by the shouts of his friend.
***********
Daniel couldn’t help himself. The smell of burnt skin sent his stomach into spasms, his dry retching wracking his twisting body. He struggled against the chains, knowing that he had no hope of escape, but he had to do something. There must be something that he could do or say that would prevent this horror from continuing.
The Inquisitor hadn’t stopped when Jack lost consciousness, his brand had made its mark three more times, red raw crosses burnt in an unholy line up his side. The turns of the rack hadn't been halted either, the left arm ignored and the attention turned to the other long limbs, the sound of the handles turning, the creak of joints straining almost to breaking point, echoing loudly in the large room.
Daniel prayed, prayed that Jack wouldn’t wake up and find himself back in hell. He begged until his throat was dry, until his voice became a whimper lost in the dark.
He hung, his eyes shut against reality. There must have been something that he could have done to prevent this. He should have been able to explain. That was his job, what he was meant to be good at, communicating. He should have convinced them that they were the good guys.
He hadn’t and now Jack was paying the price.
He opened his eyes; the loud gasps from the unconscious man calling him back, only to see the variations on a theme, almost unbelievable in their cruelty.
Oh Jack!
***********
“Oh God!” Jack couldn’t help himself, he surfaced to such total pain that he writhed on the hard wooden surface, unable to stop the traitorous moans that crept from his mouth.
“Jack.”
The voice was small and on the very edge of his awareness, easily submerged in the agony.
“Jack. They’ll be coming back soon. We have to get out of here while we have a chance.” The call was urgent.
He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but a sullen dullness, fog ridden and murky.
“Come on, Jack. They’ve untied you. Now’s our chance. We’ve done this before and we can do it again. SG-1 can get themselves out of anything. Anything, Jack.” It was persistent, that voice, keeping up the monologue, not letting him rest. He needed to rest. If he rested he might feel better when he woke.
“Jack. You can’t do this. It isn’t in you to do this. You’ve never given up, never quit on me. Don’t do it now.”
The voice was getting quieter, softer, easier to ignore.
“You’re the only hope we have. They’ll come back, and they’ll beat us. No second chances this time. They’ll have won, Jack. They’ll have won.”
There was silence for a time after that, silence rent by his own harsh breath.
When the voice came again, it was louder, and, yet, more hopeless. “It can’t end here, Jack. It just can’t. They’ll kill us, and then they’ll go after Sam and Teal’c. They’ll torture them, just like they have you. You’re the only hope they have.”
The fog ate at him, sending tendrils into his mind, bringing with it the memories that he had tried to leave behind.
It was the sob that undid him. The complete surrender.
He had to reach the voice, explain that he couldn’t help.
Jack O’Neill pulled his body up and over, falling to the floor with a scream.
***********
Daniel had never seen anything like it.
He had watched as Jack had been beaten and tortured, watched as his unconscious friend was taken to the edge of death and then left, broken on the rack. His protests had fallen on deaf ears, the vile Inquisitor sure that Jack was still aware, still scheming, after all he was the Devil’s follower and a small thing like torture couldn’t possibly have bothered him. With horror Daniel had seen the Pater continue to ask questions, demand confession, alternately shouting and whispering into the unresponsive man’s ear.
There was nothing left in him, the first bout of nausea brought on by the sound of his friend’s elbow dislocating, had been followed by more as the torture continued. He was left thirsty and forgotten, nothing more than a piece of meat hanging from a hook in the corner.
Finally they had left, leaving Jack where he lay, dead for all Daniel knew. He had done the only thing that he could, talked into the blackness, and entreated until his voice was raw. Begged Jack to be alive.
When he heard the low groan he almost wept with relief – relief that had been short lived. His pleading words seem to have no effect, and as the minutes ticked by he began to despair of ever getting out of this scene from Dante.
Jack’s sudden movement had taken him completely by surprise. He winced as the tall body fell in a boneless heap to the ground, closing his eyes at the scream.
Then he had watched in total disbelief as Jack began to crawl towards him, inch by painstaking inch. The escape that had seemed an impossible dream became a possibility, remote though it was. He hung, knowing that all he could do to help was keep the other man anchored to the lifeline of his voice. He called to him softly, as one would to a small child or a pet, scared to speak louder and break the spell.
“That’s it, Jack. Just a little further.. come on, Jack you can do it, I know you can…don’t stop now, you’re almost there.”
He knew that Jack was following the sound of his voice; he had raised his head from the floor once as he clawed his way across the stone floor, his eyes unfocused and unseeing, but after that he had kept his head down, as if the effort had been almost too much.
Daniel had no idea how long it took. All he knew was that he spent the whole time with one part of his attention concentrated on the door, expecting their captors to return at any moment.
They couldn’t be this lucky, could they?
He brought his thoughts up short. Luck – there was nothing of luck in this. This was an abomination brought about by pure evil. He felt the rage grow in him as he watched the bravest man he knew do the impossible.
At last Jack was there, beneath his feet, his right hand reaching out in front of him, his left dragging uselessly behind him.
“Jack?” He waited for a response, unsure if the long journey across the floor had left his friend with any reserves. He was rewarded by the sight of the weary head lifting and the brown eyes fixing him with a steady stare.
“Daniel.” It was weak, but it was Jack.
Daniel knew that they didn’t have any time to waste. He listened to the harsh, panting breaths coming from the man in front of him, and hated himself for what he was about to do.
“You have to release the chains, Jack.” He nodded his head towards the wall. “They’re hooked up over there.”
Jack turned slightly, taking in the distance to where the thick chain was tethered. He shut his eyes for a moment, and then, without turning back, started heading for his goal.
Reaching the hook was the easy part.
Jack reached the wall, and lay there, and for a minute Daniel was sure he had lost the battle to stay conscious, their thin chance at freedom gone. Then Jack’s right hand snaked up and gripped as far up the low chain as it could reach. Daniel held his breath, as the chain slowly began to pull, his body raising slightly, and he realised that there had to be some slack before the chain could be lifted from the hook. A low guttural grunt came from the injured man as the chain slowly loosened. The moment that it came free took Daniel by surprise, so caught up had he been in the sheer act of will power being played out in front of him. The thick links slackened and rushed with a loud rattle through the rings around his wrists, dropping him with stunning violence to the floor. He couldn’t prevent a cry of pain from escaping as his deadened arms came crashing down. He lay, his muscles quivering.
Jack!
He scrambled up, ignoring the blood running from his raw wrists. His friend was a shapeless dark huddle against the wall, no longer moving. He moved on feet that felt like bricks on the end of his legs, stumbling across and into the gloom, dropping to his knees and reaching out a hesitant hand.
“Jack?” His questing fingers felt the tremors surging through the arms slick with blood, he heard the weakness in the gasps, and he saw the agony that the other man tried to conceal in his dark eyes. “We need to move.”
His words were acknowledged by a dip of the head, the glow of the braziers echoing the redness running in streaks through the silver hair.
There was no need for further words; they both knew that there was no choice. Daniel used the wall to help himself up, then bent and tried to lift Jack to his feet. Jack moaned loudly, making no attempt to help, and finally Daniel had to give up. He didn’t want to do it, worried about causing his friend more pain, but he pulled at Jack’s uninjured arm, doing the only thing that he could, dragging him across the stone, his goal the dark recess in the wall of the dungeon. He had no idea what was behind it, but he knew that there would be no escape up that long flight of stairs leading to a locked and bolted door. If the worst came to the worst, he would make a stand there in the dark. There was no way that they were playing any more of their evil games with Jack while there was still breath in Daniel’s body.
************
Jack knew that there was nothing else that Daniel could do; he just hoped that he’d do it as quickly as possible. He couldn’t do anything to help – the long trip across from the table having pushed him to the edge of his endurance, the release of the chain tipping him over it. Now it was taking every scrap of will power that he had to stop himself from giving in to the pain.
The arm that dragged along beneath him kept snagging on the rough stones of the floor, each small pull grinding the bones together, but that was minor compared to the other sensations flowing from places too numerous to count. Somewhere a tiny voice in the back of his throbbing head was telling him that the torture hadn’t stopped when he lost consciousness, and that perhaps he should be grateful that he hadn’t been aware of what was going on.
The sudden halt startled him, causing him to lift his head at the same time as Daniel lowered his arm gently to the floor. He licked his lips and looked around, finding the light too low to make out anything.
“Daniel?” He hoped that his question was understood, because there was no way that he could summon up the energy to say more. Daniel turned, spreading dark streaks of grime over his face as he rubbed it with one hand.
“There may be another way out here.” He began to feel along the dirty wall, this fingers investigating every crack. “Sometimes there was a passage concealed in the dungeon.” His words trailed off, and Jack could see that all his concentration was on the task at hand. He gave in to the sensations and shut his eyes, thankful to be still, if only for a short time.
Seconds stretched to minutes. Muttered grumblings came to him, along with the sound of hands rough against stone.
“There should be something here. There must be something here.” It was as if Daniel was willing the stone to give up its secrets.
Maybe there wasn’t a hidden door. They would have to make a last stand here, hoping that Carter and Teal’c would come charging in to save the day. A hope that was receding as every hour past.
He made a mental inventory of his injuries. The dislocated elbow and shoulder of his left arm were easy – he remembered them, every pull and crack. The hot, already blistering burns on his side above his hip were wounds that hovered on the edge of his memory, although the brand seemed to extend further that he had thought. Then there were his legs – something was wrong there too, what he wasn’t sure – the numbness so wide spread that it made it difficult to pinpoint. Both his knees ached, stretched to almost breaking point by the rack.
He paused, his attention caught again by Daniel, a triumphant cry accompanying the rasp of stone on stone.
“Got it!” Jack opened his eyes as his friend bent over him. “Jack! I found a passage. Even if it doesn’t lead anywhere, it can hide us until rescue comes.”
He held his arm out, wordlessly acknowledging the necessity, and groaned as he was pulled into the dark.
Dark.
“Wait!”
Daniel stopped in surprise, quickly kneeling beside him.
“What is it Jack?”
“Torch.” He didn’t need to say more. Daniel immediately hurried back into the dungeon, grabbing as many unlit torches as he could carry, bringing them into the concealed doorway and dropping them to the ground. He then turned to remove a lit torch from its holder in the wall.
Jack lay, his eyes shut once more and listened as Daniel bustled around, the sound of objects being moved coming to him from the dungeon, until eventually he heard the door grate shut.
“I’ll go see what’s further on. Will you be okay?”
“Umm.” The words were becoming harder to form, as his body gave in to exhaustion. As Daniel’s steps moved away, he let himself drift.
***********
The narrow corridor branched and twisted, running off into the gloom. Dust lay inches thick, disturbed by his feet, and drifting up in slow languid clouds, webs festooned every surface, many legged insects scuttling off when the torchlight hit them. Eventually Daniel found an open area that had room for a man to lie down, and quickly turned back for Jack. He had counted the turns, and was thankful that he had – one false step leaving him bewildered for several minutes before retracing his path, following his footsteps in the dust.
He rounded the corner and came to a halt. He could just make out the Jack’s shape curled up on itself, the good arm cradling his chest. As he came closer he saw that Jack’s eyelids were half closed, white showing eerily from beneath them. He took a deep breath and moved forward.
This time Jack didn’t stir when he knelt. Daniel made no attempt to rouse him, bending, and pulling him by his arm again. He had no choice. He couldn’t carry the torch and his friend at the same time, and the darkness was absolute. Dust was swept up by Jack’s body, coating the still bleeding wounds in a thick layer, and making Daniel’s throat dryer than it already was.
He reached the open area and finally allowed himself to cough, taking off his glasses and rubbing his itching eyes with a tissue from his pocket. He removed his jacket and bundled it up, placing it under the other man’s head. Leaving him there, he hurried back, returning with what little supplies he had managed to find in the dungeon – a pot of water that had been boiling over a fire, the torches, wood and coals, and some straw from the floor. Not much, but however dirty the water may prove to be, he was thankful for it.
He piled the straw, making a rough mattress, and moved the still unconscious man on to it. He would have given anything to rest, his energy almost depleted by the events of the day, but he didn’t let himself. If he slept, he knew that it would be hours before he woke. He lit a fire, setting the water to boil, and used some to clean his wrists. They had stopped bleeding, so he left them uncovered. Any cloth he had for bandages would be needed by the man lying beside him.
Finally, his preparations complete, he steeled himself for the grizzly task.
**********
Jack woke at the touch of the damp cloth on the back of his legs. He instinctively tried to sit up, the burst of pain from his shoulder when he did so almost causing him to lose consciousness again.
“Jack, stay still.” Daniel’s voice grounded him, and he forced himself to relax, opening his eyes. He could just make out the younger man’s features in the flickering light, his anxious face covered in dust and grime with only the area around his eyes clean.
“Where are we?” He lifted his head and looked around, unable to make out much in the gloom.
“I think that it’s some sort of catacombs under the town. I haven’t explored very far, the passages seem to go for some distance.”
“Any water?” His throat felt like it had been dragged backwards through a pile of dirt.
“A little, but we don’t have anything to drink out of.” Daniel moved away for a second and then turned back. Jack felt a hand supporting his head and then another at his mouth. He swallowed the small amount of water in the cupped hand, savouring the feeling of the liquid running down his parched throat. All too soon it was gone.
“I’m going to have to clean these wounds, Jack.” Daniel picked the cloth up again, holding Jack’s right leg in the other hand. There was sharp stabbing pain as the damp material touched his skin. He bit down on his lip.
Daniel glanced up, his face bleak. “Sorry.”
Jack licked the blood off his lip, and tried a weak smile. “It’s okay, Danny. It has to be done.” The numbness was wearing off, sensation returning all over his body with a vengeance. “Be careful, I think my elbow is dislocated.” He was surprised by Daniel’s snort of laughter.
“Yes, Jack, it’s dislocated. I’ve already put a splint on it. Not much I can do about the shoulder except bind it, but I’ve managed to stop most of the bleeding from the other wounds. I left the burns, I’ll have to reboil the water before I try to clean them.” Jack could feel Daniel’s hand tremble against his skin. He realised that his left arm was bound to his side, and wondered that he hadn’t felt Daniel moving it.
Jack remembered the inventory of injuries he had begun and not managed to complete. He added the original head injury to the list, and still came up short.
“What else did they do to me, Daniel?”
The hand stopped moving for a moment and then resumed. He waited for an answer, but the silence lengthened.
“Daniel?”
“Sorry, Jack, I’m trying to concentrate here.” The response came in a matter of fact voice, but the hand still trembled.
Jack was quiet for a minute or two, trying to decide if he really wanted to pursue the answer, but he knew there was no other choice.
“Teal’c and Carter could be captured by now, we know that the gate is being watched, and chances are they can’t get home. However it’s panned out up there, we can’t rely on their help. I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with, and part of that is knowing exactly what my injuries are.”
“They kept torturing you. After you were unconscious.” Daniel’s voice was flat and unemotional.
“I sort of guessed that, Danny. What’s the damage?” Jack tried to match Daniel’s tone, but it was hard to stay calm as each stroke of the cloth brought his leg screaming back to life.
“They put you in a chair.” Daniel stopped talking.
“Not sounding bad here, Daniel.” Jack tried to prompt him to continue. “I take it that it wasn’t to let me have a rest.”
“There were spikes all over it, on the leg rests. They pressed you down and left you there.”
“Spikes?” Jack was beginning to understand. He couldn’t restrain the shudder that went through him.
“I’m trying to clean the wounds, but some are pretty deep, and there’s so many. I haven’t got enough bandages and there’s dust all over them.” Daniel’s voice was losing its steadiness. “There’s a couple that I only just managed to stop bleeding.”
“So it’s bad?”
The short laugh came again. “You could say that. The wounds extend up the back of your body from your ankles to your thighs. You know, I’m sure that I’ve seen a chair like that in the Vatican Museum. It didn’t really register with me just how diabolical it could be.”
So he wasn’t going to be walking anywhere any time soon. That made things much more difficult. His vision blurred again as a wave of pain swept him up again, and he realised that he had to get an answer soon, because he wasn’t going to last much longer.
“Anything else I should know, Daniel?” After all, it couldn’t get much worse, could it?
**********
Daniel wished that Jack would stop asking.
The images flashed through his mind as he spoke, images that no one should have to remember. He tried to concentrate on the task of cleaning the deep wounds on his friend’s body, only pausing when he reached the bandages already sodden with blood that wrapped around his chest. He didn’t know if he should be concerned or grateful that Jack seemed unaware they were even there, the horrific gouges left by the metal claw frightening in their severity, one deep enough to expose rib bone. They had tied him back up for that, ignoring his dislocated and bleeding limbs. The torture hadn’t lasted long, only one sweep of the wicked instrument, but it had been devastating, only Jack’s continued state of unconsciousness causing the Inquisitor to reluctantly stop.
He knew that Jack was waiting for an answer. He could hear the other man’s voice weakening, and was surprised that he had lasted as long as he had. He opened his mouth to speak and suddenly felt the unwelcome sensation of his stomach once again rebelling. He dropped the cloth and lurched a few paces sideways, before emptying his already cavernous stomach of the little water he had allowed himself. His head spun, the headache present since he had woken in the dungeon suddenly becoming unbearable.
As he slumped to the floor, the last thing that he heard was Jack’s voice, calling to him.
The silence was frightening. Jack lay, the weak light from the torch barely illuminating a few feet of the area around him. He strained to hear, to understand what had happened. The sound of Daniel stumbling to one side and vomiting had roused him as he was about to finally give in to the utter weariness and pain. He had waited for a second, and then hearing nothing from his friend, called out into the dark.
“Daniel?” He waited again – hearing no sound at all. “Daniel!”
Oh crap! Nothing. He tried to see into the gloom, but could make out only shadows. What the hell had just happened?
Then it came to him – Daniel had been injured as well. He mentally kicked himself for forgetting. Who knew how long Daniel had been looking after him, while he just lay there? Hours?
He had to get to him, make sure that he was okay, get him back into the light.
Look after him.
He knew that his dislocated shoulder would be a problem – and that was an understatement - but Daniel had strapped it to his side. If he was careful not to roll on it, he should be able to make it the few steps he needed to reach his friend. He just needed to get his legs under him.
Holding the pain firmly in, he pushed himself onto his chest.
The agony flared and consumed him, taking everything else with it.
Jack whimpered, unable to even cry out.
The emptiness opened up and pulled him in.
***********
Untended, the fire burnt down and spluttered out, leaving the two men alone in the dark.
***********
Major Carter pulled her binoculars from her eyes and sighed. The gate was still heavily guarded; there was no way that they could get past the waiting men. A rustle behind her brought her spinning around, weapon at the ready.
“It is I, Major Carter.” Teal’c emerged from the bushes, and sank to the ground beside her. “I was unable to find any sign of Colonel O’Neill or Daniel Jackson.”
“So it’s as we suspected, they didn’t leave the town.” Sam rubbed her eyes wearily. They had been cut off from the town by several groups of men, all obviously hunting for them. It had only been the superior skills of the Jaffa that had prevented them from being captured before now. They had done the only sensible thing, headed for the gate, hoping to get reinforcements.
That plan had been short lived.
So here they were, holed up in a small ravine, within sight of the gate. Teal’c had gone back, searching once more for any sign that the others had left the town, but it was becoming more clear that whatever had happened had occurred while they had been out of sight.
“We should have gone in as soon as the Colonel and Daniel disappeared.” Sam berated herself for what she saw as her mistake.
“That action would have achieved nothing except our capture. It is obvious that they were expected and a trap set. We have been fortunate to have avoided the search parties.”
Dusk was settling over the scene, but the guards around the gate showed no sign of lessening their vigilance. Unless something changed in the near future, they could only wait. They were due to return to Earth in thirty-six hours. Hopefully they were close enough to contact the SGC by radio, via the MALP, and able to request that the General send backup.
She just hoped that the Colonel and Daniel could wait that long.
************
He woke gradually, his whole body one solid mass of pain. He could feel the sticky, familiar awareness of blood under him, the sharp metallic smell harsh in the air. His chest burned and throbbed. He touched it with his good hand, gently probing the bandages.
This was something that Daniel had left out when he asked for a report on his injuries. He wondered what exactly those sadistic bastards had done to him. Whatever it was, he would have to try and ignore it, at least until he found Daniel.
He listened for a moment, trying to penetrate the blackness with his ears, if not his eyes. There! The soft sound of a slightly blocked nose. Thank god for Daniel’s allergies.
Jack brought his knees up, and using one hand, pushed himself off the ground. He staggered to his feet, his head spinning, before taking a tentative step in the direction of the sounds, and promptly falling over something in the dark.
The long trip back down to the ground ended with him on his knees once more, pain flaring again. This time he decided to crawl, one handed.
He pushed aside the pile of wood that had been his downfall, and groped his way cautiously over the dusty floor. After a few feet he stopped, and reached out, feeling in front of him. The breathing was loud, and sure enough, his hand touched the familiar material of Air Force BDUs.
“Daniel.” The heavy breathing didn’t miss a beat, which was somewhat reassuring. He sat back, his knees screaming protest, and felt until he found the other man’s face, giving it a hard pat.
“Come on Daniel. Wake up.” He began to get a bit desperate, knowing that he couldn’t keep this level of awareness up for much longer. Despite the darkness, lights were beginning to dance in front of his eyes, and closing them didn’t seem to help at all. He could feel the slow trickle of wetness running down his chest and he had that light headed feeling that he recognised as weakness from loss of blood.
He needed to make Daniel wake up now!
He moved his hand around to the back of Daniel’s head, his long fingers searching for any sign of injury. There it was. A large raised lump, obviously caused by the blow from the club.
Hell! Concussion.
Daniel shouldn’t be sleeping. You shouldn’t sleep with a head injury. He should wake up. Jack lowered his hand and gave him a gentle shake.
“Danny, I really need you to wake up now.” Still no reaction. He made to edge closer towards the sleeping man when his right knee suddenly gave out, throwing him in a heap.
“Shit!” Jack rocked backwards and forwards uncaring that the motion made the pain worse. One part of him cringed as the smell of vomit assailed his nostrils, recoiling from the wet patch next to Daniel, the other part of him really didn’t care – he had much more urgent things to worry about. Like staying conscious.
His over tired brain had suddenly put two and two together and come up with about fifteen reasons why he couldn’t join his friend in sleep. He had a head injury as well. That fact had been submerged in amongst everything else. He had to find the torches he remembered Daniel bringing in here with them, light one, see how bad the other man’s injuries were. He had to stop the bleeding he knew had begun again, the main source being the wounds on his legs. He had to see exactly what was wrong with his chest. He had to find some water before his mouth dried up completely. He had to find a way out of here.
Above all he had to stay awake.
His left shoulder muscles chose that moment to spasm, causing him to cry out in the silence.
Yep! That helped – no problem not going to sleep now.
Jack sat in the dark and shivered.
**********
Daniel groaned his way to wakefulness.
“I really wish that you wouldn’t do that.”
The strained voice came from somewhere behind him and off to the right.
“Do what, Jack?” He opened his eyes, squinting with the sudden onslaught of light.
“That moaning sound.”
Daniel held his hand in front of his eyes and moaned, his head pounding.
“Oh god! Will you quit that!”
“Sorry. Can’t help it. Tell this headache to go away and I’ll stop.” He kept his eyes shut.
“Go away headache.” The answer held a small echo of Jack’s normal sarcasm.
Daniel twisted towards the voice. “Brilliant, Jack. Except it didn’t work.” He opened his lids a tiny bit, bracing himself for the expected pain.
Jack sat in front of him, his back against the rough wall of rock. He looked like a vision from Hell.
“Shit, Jack! Oh shit!” Daniel pushed himself to his feet, and reached the wall within seconds. “Shit!”
The blood streaked man smiled slightly. “You know, Daniel, for a linguist you sure have a limited vocabulary.”
Daniel grabbed the shaking hand that was held out to him. He could feel the heat pulsing from the other man, see the drawn face and bloodshot eyes. He shook his head and squeezed the hand gently, receiving an even weaker one in return.
“Shit, Jack.”
“We’ve been through this already, Daniel. Can we move on now?” Jack’s words ended in a painful cough, half swallowed before it was allowed to escape. He wrenched his hand from Daniel’s grip and held it to his side, shutting his eyes. “Are you up to getting me a drink of water?” He gestured towards the pot, near at hand.
Daniel looked around, searching for anything that he could use as a cup. He vaguely remembered giving Jack water in his hand before, but that was too wasteful, and the injured man wouldn’t be able to drink enough.
“There’s one of your sample bags over near the water. I used that.”
Daniel found the small plastic bag beside the pot. He dusted it of as best he could and dipped it into the liquid, noticing how low the level was. They would have to be very careful not to waste any, but right now Jack needed a drink. He sealed the top of the bag and made his way back to the waiting man, kneeling beside him. He found that his headache, although severe, could be ignored, worry for his friend taking all his attention.
He held the limp plastic up to Jack’s mouth, letting the water escape through a small gap he opened at the top, and watched as it was eagerly drunk. He waited until it was empty before speaking.
“How long was I out?” He was reassured by the fact there didn’t seem to be many torches used. It can’t have been too long. The answer surprised him.
“I’m not sure – about six hours by my estimate.”
Daniel frowned. “That long?” He glanced over at the pile of torches again.
“Well, like I said – I’m not sure. I wasn’t around for a lot of it myself.”
Daniel helped Jack to lie down, supporting him as much as he could to protect his misshapen shoulder and elbow. Despite his care, Jack cringed as his body reached the floor, and Daniel could see that his face was pale in the half-light.
He used his voice as a distraction as he began to examine the wounds on Jack’s legs.
“What do you mean, you weren’t around?” He could see that several of the deeper holes had bled again, but they appeared to have already stopped. He repositioned the bandages as best he could.
Jack gasped, his right hand clenching. “I logged out of here about the same time you did. Woke up in the dark.” His fist pounded on the stone floor.
Daniel paused for a moment, thinking. “How did you light the torch again?” He finished examining the legs, noting that both knees were badly swollen. He looked up into the sweaty face of his friend, then let his gaze track down to the bandages around his chest, noting the fresh blood. He began to pull the cloth from the injury.
“I found a lighter in your pants pocket, along with the plastic bags.” Jack swallowed loudly, a cough choked off in a harsh ragged almost sob. “I don’t even want to know what you intended to do with them.”
“So you were groping me in the dark, Colonel O’Neill? Should I be worried?” The three long gashes, red and inflamed, shone against the pallid skin.
“In your dreams, Doctor Jackson. In your dreams.” The smile turned into a grimace, and Daniel found his hand grabbed once again, this time in a grip of steel.
“Don’t!” Jack shook his head from side to side, his eyes moist. “Just leave it. Don’t touch it.”
“I have to, Jack. I have to clean it.” Daniel tried to pull his hand away, surprised at the strength of Jack’s hold.
“No you don’t. We both know that it’s already infected, so what’s the point. Just leave it.” Jack’s lips lifted in a parody of a smile. “The Doc can fix it when we get home.”
Daniel saw the pain in his friend’s face and nodded. “At least let me rebandage it. Stop any more of this dust getting in.” He waited for a reply.
Jack shut his eyes for a moment, blinking, then nodded once. “Okay, but do it quick.” He lowered his head back to the folded jacket and released Daniel’s hand.
Daniel took his shirt off, then pulled his t-shirt over his head, wincing as it touched a tender spot. He needed more bandages, and there was nothing else to use. The air where they were was stuffy and close, he certainly didn’t need the T-shirt for warmth. He put his shirt back on, buttoning it up, and started ripping the black material into strips. They weren’t clean or hygienic, but they were better than the pile of blood soaked bandages he had discarded on the floor, and he couldn’t afford to use any of their precious dwindling water to wash them.
It wasn’t long before he turned back to Jack, ready to begin. Jack lay with his eyes closed, his face set in an unemotional mask. Daniel slid the first strip of cloth behind his back, trying to avoid moving him too much, and brought it around, tying it off above the shoulder opposite the dislocation. He had to avoid the injured arm, making the whole process extremely awkward, and he fumbled slightly, trying to find the best position to do the job. He could hear Jack’s breathing alter, but he refused to let himself look up. He had to get the job done, regardless of the cost.
His resolve slipped at the same time as his hand did, sticky and slick with blood. Jack arched his back and began to shiver uncontrollably.
“Oh god! Sorry!” Daniel’s voice shook as he looked up, just in time to see his friend’s teeth release their grip on his lip before his whole body relaxed into unconsciousness, finally succumbing to the pain.
The only thought Daniel allowed himself was one of thanks. He finished the job as quickly as possible, and took the opportunity to move Jack back on to the bed of straw.
Daniel watched the other man of a while, making sure his breathing was even. When he was satisfied that there was no more he could do, he took a small drink of water before relighting the fire. He sat for a while, thinking over their options.
It didn’t seem that their captors had knowledge of these passages, there had been no sounds of searching. But there had been no sounds of rescue either. It looked like they were going to have to get themselves out of this mess, and judging by Jack’s deteriorating condition, the sooner, the better. Their dwindling water supply was also a factor that had to be considered.
He stood. The first task was to see if there was a way out of here. For all he knew, there could be a door to the outside just around the corner. His decision made, he lit one of their reserve of torches. Jack hadn’t stirred. Daniel knelt next to him and wiped off the sweat that beaded on his forehead.
Yes, he had to find a way out of here.
Picking up two extra torches, Daniel headed up the passage. At the first branch he marked the wall by scraping a line at waist height, using a sharp rock, resting his hand there for a moment as a wave of dizziness swept over him. It was a reminder that Jack wasn’t the only one hurt. He would have given anything to just sit back and let someone else take charge, but that wasn’t going to happen. He pushed off the wall and watched the torch flame for a minute. There seemed to be a slight movement of air in the right hand fork, so he took that one, walking as quickly as he could. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. He didn’t want to leave Jack for too long.
The torch light flickered over the stone, illuminating the grey wall and showing the undisturbed dust of years. Daniel walked on into the silence.
**********
He felt hot and uncomfortable. And thirsty. Thirsty was at the top of the list. He cleared his throat, feeling his tongue rasp on the roof of his mouth. He reached over, groping for the call button, but couldn’t find it, his hand hitting a rough surface instead of the softness of the mattress.
His head felt like it was about to break out the top of his skull using a pneumatic drill.
He stayed as still as possible, hoping that it would help to diminish the pounding, and tried to remember what had happened. His body hurt in so many unbelievable ways it rivalled that time in the desert of Iran for sheer agony.
Daniel had been here.
He lifted his head, trying to see past the light and into the gloom.
They had the lights down low for some reason. Must be night.
Daniel was probably working in his office. He should go find him, tell him about Carter and Teal’c. Tell him that they were lost.
He twisted around and finally managed to get to his feet, swaying on the spot of several minutes.
He really needed to get that drink of water.
And find Daniel.
Jack took a deep breath, pushed down the pain, and stumbled off into the dark.
Part 4
Something had changed. The search had intensified, causing Sam and Teal’c to move location several times, staying just ahead of the hunters. They had managed to remain close to the gate, knowing that their only hope was to contact the SGC. As their expected report in passed and time ticked on, they edged closer to the circle, careful to stay out of sight.
The sound of the gate activating had Sam reaching for her radio. She held her fingers up, crossing them, and smiled at her companion’s raised eyebrow.
“SG-1 report.” General Hammond’s clear voice sounded from the radio.
“It’s Major Carter, sir. Teal’c and I are concealed near the gate. Colonel O’Neill and Daniel have been captured and are being held in the town. The gate is heavily guarded. We need backup, General.”
“Understood, Major.” The reply came immediately. “How large is the force at the gate?”
“Approximately twenty-five men, armed with knives and cross-bows.”
“Is your position secure, Major?” They could see the MALP camera turn, the General obviously trying to get a better idea of the situation.
Sam exchanged glances with Teal’c, getting a nod of agreement, before answering. “Yes, sir. For the moment, but we may have to relocate without warning.”
“I will send SG-2 and SG-10 through as soon as they are geared up.”
“Thank you, sir.” Sam concluded the transmission, glad that they would soon have enough help to permit them to search for the Colonel and Daniel. It had been hours since they had last seen their teammates and anything could have happened in that time. For a second, her heart sank, then she gave herself a mental shake – it was no help to think the worst.
They were probably sitting comfortably in a cell somewhere, waiting to be rescued.
They weren’t being chased all over the countryside.
At least she hoped so.
**********
The darkness was oppressive, pushing in around him, and it made the torch flame seem small and insignificant. The passages twisted, turned, branched, forked, and almost seemed to mutate as he watched. Daniel felt as if he had been walking for hours, but the frequent glances at his watch reassured him that it had only been a relatively short time.
His first torch was beginning to burn down, so he lit a second one. When that was half way down he would turn back. Hopefully by then he would have found something a little more promising, perhaps even an exit to the outside.
Daniel wandered on, his hand extended, tracing the rough surface of the wall. His steps faltered occasionally, as the dizziness came and went. He rubbed the back of his head with the other hand. The lump still felt as big as an ostrich egg to his probing fingers.
His headache was worse, if anything, despite the amount of time that had gone by since he woke. His feet were starting to drag, their weight leaden.
Maybe it was time to be getting back.
He looked at his watch, expecting only minutes to have passed.
Christ! How had that happened? That couldn’t be right.
One glance at his torch confirmed his suspicions. It was almost burnt out. He lit the final torch with trembling hands. Somehow he had drifted, allowing much too much time to pass. He would be lucky if he made it back before the torch went out.
Daniel turned back, retracing his steps with as much speed as he could muster. He didn’t want to be lost in the dark, even imagining it had him scared. Anyone lost in these tunnels could be lost forever, doomed by darkness and confusion.
He had to get back to Jack.
*********
It was easier to walk if he shut his eyes and let himself feel his way along the corridor. There didn’t appear to be any one else here. No one had responded to his calls.
At least he thought he had called.
Who was he calling?
That’s right – Daniel. Daniel was looking for him. Or was he looking for Daniel? He couldn’t have gone far, so why didn’t he answer?
Maybe he should ask for help. Teal’c and Carter would help. He should go find them first.
Or the Doc. The Doc might be good. There was something not right, something he should tell the Doc about.
Jack leant against the wall, panting. One part of his mind was screaming for him to stop – telling him to go back before it was too late. The other part was happy to just go with the flow, ignoring his body’s protests. Both parts knew he needed help urgently. They just didn’t agree on the best method of obtaining it.
So he stopped like a run down toy, and slumped against the wall, his head bowed, eyes closed. Slowly he slid down until he was sitting on the dirt encrusted rock floor.
Daniel would just have to find himself for a change.
**********
Major Ferretti pushed past the medic, his gaze searching for Sam Carter. He had lost sight of her in the confusion of the last few minutes.
“Sir, I need to check your injury.” The young lieutenant was indignantly trying to stop him from going anywhere, already pulling at his bleeding arm.
Ferretti shook him off once more. “It’s just a scratch. You can stick a bandaid on it later.” He caught sight of his quarry. There was Sam, talking to Major Hartfell. He strode quickly over to them, noting that they both seemed to have got away with only slight scratches in the battle at the gate.
“Lou.” Sam acknowledged him with a worried smile. “You okay?”
“Sure. Not a problem. Which is more than I can say for Stephens.” The three officers looked over at the man on the stretcher, and watched as it was carried back through the gate. “He should be alright, once the Doc gets her hands on him.” He hated seeing one of his team hurt, it may be part of the job, but it was a part that he could never get used to. He wanted to go back with Stephens, check that he really would be okay, make sure that everything possible was done for him. He knew it would be, but it didn’t stop him from worrying.
He turned away as the gate shut.
He had a job to do.
They agreed that the first order of business was to interrogate the prisoners and see if any of them knew where Jack and Daniel were being held. There were twenty survivors of the skirmish, most with varying degrees of injury. They had fought fiercely, refusing to surrender even when it was obvious they had been defeated. They had finally been subdued by zatfire.
Teal’c had been guarding the group and watching them closely. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on them as the three majors approached.
“I believe I should assist in any questioning.” He raised an eyebrow at one of the prisoners and Lou saw the man visibly blanch.
Very interesting.
They began by picking the obvious leader out of the group. He was a middle-aged man, dressed in nondescript brown trousers and shirt, with a sharp pointed chin and small eyes. He had been the last zatted, fighting furiously until overcome. Now he stared at them defiantly as they pulled him forward.
Ferretti began with the question that was on all their minds. “You took two of our men, Colonel O’Neill and Doctor Jackson. Where are they?”
The reply came much easier than they expected. The man’s face fell into a scowl. “You know full well where your master is, but be sure of this – he will be found and he will repent.”
The listening group exchanged puzzled frowns. Teal’c moved to the front, his normally impassive features finally showing the frustration of the last two days.
“Speak plainly. Where is Colonel O’Neill?”
“I will not speak to your demon!” He reared back, his eyes averted.
Demon? Lou watched the emotions flitter across the man’s face – defiance, worry, anger – but the predominant one was terror. Absolute terror. This was not just a simple case of fear of the unknown. There was also something else in the man's eyes, something that spoke of fanaticism. He looked at his clothes, his shoes, his appearance, and he suddenly latched onto the rough molded form of a cross hanging from a simple chain around the man's neck.
Could it be?
Could it really?
He raised a hand to his own chest feeling the shape of his own crucifix through his clothing. Perhaps he could play a hunch. He moved up to the man, and whispered in his ear, as if making sure that the others couldn’t hear.
“I will order the demon removed from your sight, but he will be angry.” Lou reached down and pulled out the small crucifix he always wore. The other man raised astonished eyes to his. “Give me some information. I will tell them that you are cooperating.” He watched a calculating look grow in the other’s eyes and knew that he had made the right move.
“Why are you with them?” Suspicion was still evident in the voice.
Lou bent closer before answering. “I will explain later.” He raised the crucifix to his lips. “But God watches over us, of that we can be certain.”
“Praise God! We saw them come from the Devil’s Circle and recognized that one” he nodded towards Teal’c, “as a demon. He obeyed the man you call Colonel, as did his servant and the witch. The Pater planned to trap them in the town, but the demon and witch escaped.”
Lou was finding it very difficult to stay calm. He grabbed the other’s arm, pulling him further aside and gestured to the others to stay back. Sam nodded, the circles under her eyes standing out in her too pale face, before moving away to sit down nearby.
“What did the Pater do to the Colonel and his servant?”
His heart sank as the lips turned up with a satisfied smile. “He begged the master to repent, and when he refused, the Pater used the power of the Lord to discipline him. The Pater is experienced in these matters. Fully thirty souls have been saved from Satan since the Pater took up his post here as Inquisitor.”
The cold feeling griped Lou’s heart.
Inquisitor.
**********
Teal’c did not allow any emotion to show. Despite the distance, he could clearly hear the prisoner’s words as he spoke to Major Ferretti, and he was becoming more and more concerned. He was not sure of the meaning of ‘inquisitor’ but one look at the Major’s pale face, and he knew with certainty that it did not bode well for his teammates.
Given his time again, there were many things that he would do differently.
He should have attempted to enter the town after dark. He may have been able to find them, the town was not that large. He should have rescued them. Instead he had run and hidden.
He stayed where he was, standing silent and still. Playing a part. But inside he was in turmoil. He needed to be doing something.
He allowed himself to glance over to where Major Carter was now sitting. She was still watching Major Ferretti’s conversation like a hawk, her tired eyes flicking between the two men. The scratches on her face and arms were testimony to their struggle to elude the hunting parties. She had kept up with him the whole time, never once admitting to fatigue. Never allowing pain or despair to sway her from their goal.
And suddenly he knew he had made the right decision.
That he had done the right thing, staying with her.
Together they were stronger. Together they would find their missing teammates.
They had to.
He owed O’Neill his life many times over.
Teal’c kept his eyes on the prisoner, pinning him with his stare.
**********
Daniel stumbled, exhausted, towards the fire, the last torch barely flickering. He had been terrified the light would die leaving him to wander around in the dark, lost. It hadn’t been one of the more pleasant moments in his fairly eventful life, but finally he had made it back.
He could relax now.
But first he had to check on Jack.
His tired mind had registered that something was wrong from the moment he entered the room, but it took a few seconds for it to properly sink in.
Jack.
The room was empty, with no sign at all of his friend.
Jack couldn’t have gone anywhere without help, he was in no condition to be able to sit up, let alone walk. Someone must have found him.
Pater Yleek. The Inquisitor.
Daniel grabbed a new torch and began to run down the passage towards the concealed doorway into the dungeon.
He had to stop them. They couldn’t take Jack again.
They couldn’t.