• SPOILERS: minor references to Singularity, Family, Fair Game
• Formerly printed in Compadres 17. Crossover with the 1984 series The Master.
• The team encounters an elderly ninja who knows too much about Jaffa and Goa'uld, and who leads the way to a threat that could destroy the Earth
• PG-13 [D]

The old man hadn't moved for half an hour. His bench sat on one of the park's main paths in full view of anyone who chose to pass by, but he was completely unaware of them. Around him, children shouted in their play, lovers walked past arm in arm, and, once, a squirrel had run across his foot, but he had not stirred. His hair was white, a bushy ruff of it around a bald dome and he wore a grey mustache. Something in his stillness reached out to Teal'c, who sat alone on an opposite bench waiting while O'Neill played softball with a cluster of eager small boys much the age his own son had been when he died. Once Teal'c realized the compulsion under which O'Neill labored, he did not attempt to draw him from the game. Although this was one of his rare trips out of the SGC's underground base to the outside world of the Tauri, Teal'c did not mind sitting alone and watching the humans pass. Daniel Jackson was here somewhere, too, but he had fallen into a discussion with a professorial human wearing a tweed jacket and talking around an unlit tobacco pipe that he pushed around his mouth, ejecting words past it. On occasion, a portion of the discussion wafted back to the Jaffa. They were discussing cross-cultural pollination, a subject dear to Daniel Jackson's heart. The young archaeologist was careful to watch his words, but he was excited to discover a kindred spirit. Teal'c was glad for him.

Major Carter, who had brought Cassandra out for the day, had drifted off with the child. Teal'c thought time together was good for both of them and had not followed. Instead, he pulled the White Sox cap forward so that its brim concealed his Apophis tattoo. O'Neill had given him the hat to wear. "On loan, remember," he had chided. The White Sox were a sports team from O'Neill's own birthplace. While he seemed to enjoy the sport of hockey more than he did baseball, the cap had once been his father's, and he was fond of it. That made it all the more valuable. Teal'c would have defended it with his life.

Fortunately, he did not have to. Instead, he sat watching humanity move around him, a people who did not live in fear of the Goa'uld, a people whose very lives were safe, untouched. Yes, there were problems on this Earth that Teal'c had allied with. Yes, there were dangers, even small, planetary wars. Yes, there were terrorists, poverty, injustice. But the humans were spared the dangers that Teal'c had faced all his life. The carefree children who romped so happily in the park lived in illusory safety; the Goa'uld were still out there and knew of Earth. Teal'c hoped that these children would continue to play safely, to live free.

Still the old man had not moved. His dark, penetrating eyes were open, but focused on an inner vision, the same look Teal'c had seen on Master Bra'tac's face when he was engaged in meditation. This human was not a Jaffa, though. He did not practice the kel'noreem.

Intrigued, Teal'c rose from his bench and crossed the path to sit beside the human who had interested him.

At first, the elderly man did not stir out of his inner contemplation. He seemed barely to breathe; unlike the rest of the humans in the park, he was utterly still, all the way to the core. Then, gradually, he did move, tilting his head slightly as if he were listening. His face came slowly to life, highlighting the laughter marks at the edges of his rather narrow eyes and beak of a nose like Horus. Without the smile marks, it would have been a harsh face, but the 'humanity' in its well-earned lines took away cruelty and distance and replaced them with an indomitable will and a wry sense of humor.

The man turned his eyes on Teal'c and focused on him with the most single-minded scrutiny he had faced on Earth. Not even Col. Maybourne had eyed him so intently. "There is something very different about you, my friend," he said. His tone indicated that he did not find the different strange or threatening but rather welcomed it and enjoyed it as a treat.

"And you, also," Teal'c replied. "You have a very strong internal focus. You remind me of my teacher, Master Bra'tac."

"Master Bra'tac?" An eyebrow soared. "Martial arts?"

Teal'c knew of such things from his studies of Earth-based culture, but the literal meaning of the words were completely true. Yes, he had learned the arts of war from Bra'tac, so he inclined his head in agreement.

"Which discipline?"

"The ones that would do the most good." Any further explanation would take Teal'c along a path he could not tread. He was afraid the stranger would press him for an explanation, but he did not.

"You have learned the discipline well," he said instead, as if he knew that there were matters that could not be discussed. Perhaps his own disciplines were secret, as well. "I watched you. You have a stillness in your inner core. You allowed your friends to disperse on their separate pleasures and you enjoyed them vicariously. No, that's not quite right. You enjoyed the fact that your friends were happy. But you were content to watch and observe."

"The study of humanity interests me," Teal'c admitted. Even one of the Tauri might say as much.

"Of course it does. What more fascinating study could there be in the world? But you genuinely mean it."

"You were deep in your trance," Teal'c reminded the old man. "How could you observe me?"

"Because a trance need not block the world. It need only embrace it." He grinned suddenly. "You'll have me pontificating in a moment, and Max tells me I can scare people off when I 'do the philosophy number'."

"I am unafraid," Teal'c replied dryly. "Is Max your son?"

"He is my student and my friend," the old man replied. "He has a law practice here in town. When his own father died, he decided to move away from the place where their partnership had been. We chose here. The beauty of the mountains has always appealed to me. I grew up near here, although I no longer have no kin here. The sorrow of the old is to outlive their families."

"You are not old," Teal'c replied. This man must be at least fifty years younger than Master Bra'tac, but then the Tauri did not live as long as the Jaffa, whose lifespan was enhanced by the larval Goa'ulds they bore.

"You may be right." A grin lifted the corners of the old man's mustache. "I've discovered I don't feel old inside, only on the outside where I've started to creak a bit. It's only when I look at my contemporaries that I realize I'm seventy-four. Somewhere inside is still the young John Peter McAllister who stayed in Japan after the war to study martial arts."

"Who had a dream," Teal'c realized. "And still carries it inside. Do you understand how wise that makes you?"

McAllister eyed him with renewed fascination. "I detect wisdom inside you, my new friend. You are totally unlike anyone I have ever met before. No, I take that back. You remind me of an old master I had when I first joined my sect. He was...of great age. To myself I called him Father Perrault, like the ancient lama in the book Lost Horizon."

"I have read that book," Teal'c admitted. "It was on my reading list, to learn..." He let that trail off. "I am called Teal'c," he belatedly introduced himself. "This Father Perrault of yours was very ancient?"

"His real name was Sato," McAllister admitted. "He had an ancient blade that many of his pupils coveted. Sometimes he would speak of events centuries past as if he had witnessed them. Perhaps he had."

"You do not find that impossible." It was not a question. Could this Sato have been a Goa'uld?

"I find that very little is impossible, the only limits set by the mind itself. I must remind Max frequently that Yoda was right. Do or do not, there is no try."

Teal'c smiled. "Master Bra'tac would very much like Yoda," he admitted. O'Neill had force-fed him the original Star Wars trilogy and Teal'c had been struck by some of the similarities in Yoda's training to the training he had received as a Jaffa. There were differences, of course, because the threats to be faced were different. The Jaffa were a fighting force, enslaved. The Jedi, all but destroyed, had been defenders of freedom in their prime. Teal'c had yearned after such a purpose for his own people.

"I suspect I would like your Master Bra'tac, Teal'c," admitted McAllister. "Would it be possible to meet him?"

"It would not." He did not mean that to sound so final. It was not impossible that they could meet; it was simply such a remote possibility that he did not accept it.

McAllister said gently, "I am sorry," as if Teal'c meant his mentor had died. "Sato taught me in my early years of training," he said. "He was a wise man, but a very different man. I believe he had been tortured in the past. He had healed scars on his stomach." His fingers gently traced a pattern that was very familiar to Teal'c. "Yet, he held no bitterness."

Teal'c straightened up. Healed scars on his stomach need mean no more than an old wound, but his mind suddenly extended the possibility. A Jaffa, trapped on Earth, his Goa'uld maturing and taking over his mind. Should such things happen, the pouch for the larval Goa'uld would heal over. McAllister's suggestion that Sato had lived an unusually long life could indeed mean that. But he could scarcely ask if Sato's eyes had glowed and his voice had deepened. The concept of a Goa'uld as a wise and beloved teacher stretched the bounds of possibility, unless, of course, Sato's Goa'uld had Tok'ra leanings. Yet, how could an immature larva grow to maturity apart from the System Lords and Tok'ra and develop that way?

"That speaks to you?" McAllister eyed him with interest.

"I once knew of a man with such scars," Teal'c replied. He must be very careful. McAllister might have been sent here to bait him. He might work for Maybourne, but Teal'c did not think so. The core of inner strength he felt existed in McAllister did not match Maybourne's devious tactics.

"He bore them proudly," McAllister said easily. "Do you maintain your disciplines yet?"

Teal'c inclined his head. "I do. I must."

"Your friends must be of different disciplines," McAllister said. He pointed to Daniel Jackson, who was ranting eagerly about pre-Columbian pyramids to his captive audience. "The scholar." To O'Neill, who was demonstrating for one of the boys how to hold a bat. "The soldier. It shows, even here." And to Major Carter, who was strolling back with Cassandra, her face animated as she pointed out something she and the child could see. "And, I believe, the scientist. Am I correct?"

Honesty would not reveal secrets. "You are."

"You seem an unlikely quartet, but I watched you as you arrived. The child doesn't belong to any of you, but you are all fond of her, especially Sam." He caught Teal'c's reaction. "I heard Daniel speak her name. I watched you with great interest because people still find my friendship with Max unlikely. Families come in many different forms, and yours is a lot more different than most."

"Indeed," Teal'c replied.

"I'm glad you talked to me," McAllister said. At first, Teal'c thought it was a dismissal now that the Major and Cassandra were returning, but it was not. Instead the older man took a very deep breath and said, "Would you do me one favor? It's to prove something to myself. I might have much to say to you, but to do so I must see you without your baseball cap."

Teal'c hesitated. Earth humans had tattoos, although most were not so unusual as the sigil of Apophis. Yet McAllister had a purpose. If the man Sato he had mentioned were really a Goa'uld, it would be essential to learn of it. Teal'c lifted the cap, feeling the old man's eyes fasten on his forehead, then he replaced it.

"Thank you." McAllister frowned. "The design is different, but the general principle is the same. I have a question to ask you now and, before I ask it, I want you to know that I mean you no threat whatsoever. It was essential to talk to you first, to find out where you stood. I think you a man of honor. I do not believe you a spy. I've got a little espionage in my background and I know the feel of it. You do not tell all you know, but you don't seek to deceive. Are you a Jaffa?"

Teal'c stared at him in utter disbelief. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"Sato was not only my mentor, he was my friend," McAllister admitted. "He told me many things. He felt that, one day, it might be good for a human to know the whole story."

"And do you know...the whole story?" Teal'c ventured. He turned his eyes on O'Neill, who looked up as he did. He must have seen something in the Jaffa's face because he said a few quick words to the boy he'd been coaching, passed him the bat, and started in Teal'c's direction, detouring slightly to grab Daniel Jackson by the scruff of the neck and steer him over to the park bench.

"I do know much of the story," McAllister admitted. "I also know in general where to find Sato, if need be."

"What's wrong, Teal'c?" O'Neill and Daniel Jackson arrived in a rush, Carter right behind them. She had diverted Cassandra to the swings and the child had gone reluctantly, her steps lagging.

Teal'c hesitated, then he said quickly, "O'Neill. This is John Peter McAllister. He just asked me if I were a Jaffa."

"Son of a bitch," growled Jack. His hand made an involuntary reach for the weapon he was not wearing. "Where did you get that information? It's classified."

"Relax. I'm not your enemy. Colonel John Peter McAllister, USAF, retired. Ninja master. Former pupil of a Tok'ra. A Jaffa stranded on Earth whose Goa'uld matured. You do know what I mean in spite of all those poker faces. O'Neill, you're military. I'm probably treading all over top secret clearances, but if you know about the Goa'uld, then I think we should talk."

"Just how did you get into this fantasy?" O'Neill demanded.

"Two ways. Teal'c lifted his head and I saw the edge of his Jaffa tattoo. Most people would have passed it by without a thought, but I had seen one before and recognized it. Then, when he came over to talk to me, I was in a trance state and I could sense him--and the Goa'uld larva inside him." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot. "I talked to him, and I concluded that he was an honorable man, not an advance scout for the enemy. If the time is approaching that the Goa'uld might return to Earth, I must share my information. Until now, I thought perhaps the danger would never come here, but I saw the explosions in the night sky over a year ago. Most people thought they were meteors burning up in orbit, or even being destroyed by missiles--there were several movies to that effect at the time, as I recall. But I couldn't help wondering if they were Goa'uld ships. Could we go somewhere more private?"

O'Neill quirked an eyebrow at Teal'c. "I believe he is an honorable man, O'Neill," the Jaffa answered.

Major Carter's face was full of concentration. "He certainly knows things, sir," she said to O'Neill. "Maybe we should take him back with us for a debriefing."

"Take him to a secure site, anyway," O'Neill replied.

"To the Stargate?" McAllister asked, winning quickly masked looks of horror from the rest of the team.

"That's it, we're out of here," O'Neill decided on the spot. "Carter, get Cassandra and take her home. The rest of us are heading back to the base. You're coming with us, sir," he informed McAllister, offering him no choices.

"He did volunteer the information, O'Neill," Teal'c defended the old man as Carter hurried away to join Cassandra.

"Yeah, Jack, he didn't have to say anything," offered Daniel.

"Come on, he could be a Goa'uld, lulling us into a sense of security."

"He is not," Teal'c replied. "I would have known and so would Major Carter."

"Okay, I give you that. But this is still an awfully public place to talk about--this. So we're heading back now. If you are what you say, you'll come willingly," O'Neill told McAllister.

"I would be honored." The old man rose easily, moving with the grace that spoke of many years of discipline and training. He slightly favored one knee but once he was moving it didn't show. "Max was to meet me here. When I first met him, he was too hot-headed and impulsive to share the secret that Sato imparted to me alone. After I saw the fireball in the sky, I told him what I knew. Max will worry if he doesn't find me. And he does know of this."

"You can call him from the base and say you'll be delayed," Daniel Jackson offered quickly. "Well, he can, can't he, Jack? He's not a prisoner."

"We don't know that yet," O'Neill replied. "But the last thing we want is a missing persons report going around. We'll work something out. If there really is another Goa'uld here on Earth, it doesn't sound like it's one of the system lords like Seth."

"He's not," McAllister replied. "He's one of the Tok'ra. Teal'c will know of them if the rest of you don't."

"Come on," O'Neill said without answering the implied question. "Let's move it."

*****

John Peter McAllister was fascinated. It wasn't every day he got to take a trip deep within the Cheyenne Mountain complex where NORAD was based. An old friend of his was stationed in NORAD and he'd given McAllister and Max the special civilian tour a few months earlier when they'd first moved to Colorado Springs. But this time, the elevator took them deep within the mountain, an armed Marine guard standing beside the elevator panel to block it from McAllister's sight. He could tell they hadn't gone all the way to the lowest level, but then they wouldn't. Just to a secure holding area where he could be questioned. He'd expected that when he realized Teal'c, the Jaffa, was in the company of a military officer, recognizable as such even in his civvies. Major Carter, who had joined them just as they arrived at the base, was probably also military but Daniel Jackson was definitely a civilian. He had an acquired edge, but it hadn't blunted the essential curiosity of the scholar that would always be his nature. From the way he'd been talking to the other man in the park, he was an archaeologist or anthropologist, just the type of man necessary to study alien cultures if the base here possessed an actual Stargate to allow travel to other worlds.

They let McAllister put in a call to Max's office, to explain that he had been unable to keep their lunch meeting. Max had already gone to the rendezvous, though. He'd probably be worried. There was a lot of the mother hen in Max's make up--he had a tendency to fuss.

McAllister had never doubted Sato's story, once it had been told to him in utter confidence. "Through the centuries, I have trusted very few," he had admitted. "But always one human in each generation, so that the knowledge would be there, if necessary. I must then move on or people will notice my longevity, but for each generation, one who can hold secrets close must know." Believing that story had been a responsibility, but one he had not needed to do anything about until the previous year.

Watching the stern face of Jack O'Neill, who had been addressed as Col. O'Neill once they reached the base, McAllister knew he had compromised their security very badly. As a result, he was left in a neutral room--a holding area--while the others vanished except for Daniel Jackson, who had curled himself into a corner of the sofa and who held back from speech, even though he looked as if he was bursting with questions. Only in that enthusiasm he couldn't keep off his face did he remind McAllister of his pupil, Max Keller. Older now, with more restraint, Max could still allow his passions to explode under the right circumstances. Could Daniel? McAllister understood military security and didn't try beyond a few simple questions.

"So you're a civilian?"

Daniel smiled faintly. "Jack says nobody would ever mistake me for anything else."

"You've worked with the military, though. It shows."

The young man adjusted his glasses uneasily. He was dying to ask questions. "Maybe to you. Not to Jack."

"Your Jack and I have something in common. I used to be an Air Force Colonel, too. If you've actually got a Stargate here, I can see why the Air Force would be in charge of it."

Daniel's face closed away very carefully. He didn't intend to speak out of turn.

McAllister smiled. "Don't worry, Dr. Jackson. I'll back off. I'm not trying to trick you with the 'Doctor' Jackson thing, either, son. I heard someone call you that."

"You listen a lot." It was an involuntary comment.

"When you get to be my age, it saves time. I'm in better shape than most men my age, but I still feel it sometimes. I pay attention to the world around me. Saves me a few steps here and there." He grinned. "Your friend Teal'c is a good man."

That was the right thing to say. Daniel nodded approvingly. "He is a good man. We all think so."

The door opened then to admit O'Neill and Carter in fatigues and an older man with even less hair than McAllister who wore the uniform of a general and who carried a folder under his left arm. McAllister rose to greet him. Teal'c came in after him, his face expressionless, his baseball cap missing, revealing the Jaffa tattoo.

"General George Hammond this is John McAllister," Jack introduced. "He told us an interesting story in the park."

Hammond offered his hand in greeting; he had a very firm grip. "We checked you out, McAllister," he said. "Excellent military record in both World War II and Korea. Since then, somewhat more problematic. The Ninja sect, however one you abandoned because you would not resort to the old ways of terrorism and assassination. A questionable death behind you, that of a man named Okasa."

"He was attempting to kill me at the time. I was not charged with a crime," McAllister said. Daniel Jackson's eyes widened. Even now, McAllister regretted the loss of his former pupil. Okasa had been seduced by the dark side of the Ninja and had tried to kill him many times but, until the last, McAllister had hoped to turn him from his dark path. Although he had been exonerated in the death, it still felt a failure to him.

"So the records say. What they do not say is that you have never betrayed your country. Which makes me wonder what you were trying to accomplish in the park."

"I was trying to reach someone like yourself, General. An ear in the right place to tell a story I have kept silent for forty years except to my trusted pupil, Max Keller. Until I saw Teal'c in the park and realized he must be Jaffa, I had no idea the Goa'uld threat was known here, although I did wonder last summer.. I had hoped it never would be."

"And now you believe in a danger that may not exist, and you chose to speak." Hammond was wary, unwilling to commit to the truth. No wonder. He didn't know who McAllister was; his record only revealed a part of himself. He could be an ally of the Goa'uld, a troublemaker, for all they knew.

"I may know things that will help you." He smiled wryly. "A part of me has always wondered if it might have been a fool to believe Sato; however, the ability to make one's eyes glow and to alter the voice in such a manner are not usual human traits. Once Sato trusted me, he let me talk to Kenruku, the Goa'uld within him. Kenruku said that in most cases, the Goa'uld took over the host completely. He even admitted that, at first, he had done so. But Sato himself was a very strong individual and he had slight influence. Gradually Kenruku came around and their joining was more of a sharing." He grinned suddenly. "Like a joined Trill, if you watch Star Trek. When I heard that concept, I couldn't help wondering if one of the others Sato had told over the years had been involved with the creation of that concept or whether it was just a coincidence."

There was a lot of exchanging of looks. He knew he had said enough to tempt them, but they didn't want to admit any of it. He smiled. "I imagine you have loyalty oaths or statements to sign so you'll know I don't mean to speak of this to anyone outside of here. I did tell Max, my pupil and surrogate son, but only after the fireball last summer, and I swore him to secrecy. I would trust him with my life. However, I never told my daughter Teri or any other individual. So if you have non-disclosure statements, bring them to me and I'll sign them."

Hammond popped open the folder he carried and produced a set of papers. "We hoped you would agree to that."

O'Neill looked as if he wanted to object. Maybe he thought McAllister was a crackpot who had some dangerous knowledge. Maybe they'd had people pop up before who knew too much. But the non-disclosure statement, although comprehensive, was within the limits of what the ninja already practiced, so he signed it without hesitation and passed it back to the general. "I don't want to compromise security, General," he admitted. "I just want to get my knowledge to the right place. Without a reason to speak, I would have taken it to the grave, leaving Max to carry on." He grinned, suddenly. "He isn't quite sure he believes it."

"I can't imagine why," O'Neill said dryly. "All right, McAllister. What you're saying isn't exactly making sense. How did your friend's Goa'uld even know about the Tok'ra? If you're saying he was a Jaffa stranded on Earth centuries ago and the larva took over..."

"The knowledge of the Goa'uld is present in the larval forms, O'Neill," Teal'c intervened. "Thus, they would know of the existence of the Tok'ra from the beginning. Also, the Jaffa would know."

"And this Goa'uld just decided to be reasonable? Or maybe it was lying in ambush, pretending, until the time that it could get to a Stargate. Not saying you're leading us up the garden path, McAllister, but Snake Guts could be."

"Sato would have known. I think I might have known. I often talked to both of them. I was never encouraged to speak of Kenruku, so I always thought of both of them as Sato, but there were two distinct personalities and I knew the difference, even if the voice and manner changed when Kenruku spoke."

Carter nodded. "That would be true, sir. And he has never had a Goa'uld inside him. I would be able to tell."

McAllister wondered how. He could see why Teal'c might know. He must possess his own infant Goa'uld. If he was allied with Earth now, might he not eventually go the way of Sato? There would be no guarantee his own larval Goa'uld would be as Kenruku, either. He needed it now, of course. Kenruku had explained that in a Jaffa the Goa'uld served as an immune system. McAllister knew there was much he had never learned, but he did know of a group of powerful Goa'uld called the System Lords and he knew they had once come to Earth, but that the Earth had buried its Stargate to prevent their return. Kenruku had come by ship, centuries later, on a slave raid. The potential slaves had fought and Sato had been wounded and fallen in a place where he was not easily seen. He had been left behind. His infant Goa'uld had healed him but left him stranded in a world he did not know. McAllister told all of this to the group that watched him.

"He gradually became accepted by the Mongols and lived among them until his Goa'uld grew to maturity."

"That would explain the Shavadai," Daniel said, excited. He'd been hanging on McAllister's every word. Then, it dawned on him he'd said more than he should and he looked disgusted with himself.

"I didn't know you had gone through the Gate," McAllister said. "But it was a logical assumption. Don't worry, son. Even if I haven't asked about it, I've suspected from the minute I realized where you were bringing me that it might be here."

"Nice one, Daniel," O'Neill said, but his reproach wasn't as serious as it could have been. Daniel shot him an apologetic glance.

"How long did it take for his Goa'uld to come around to the ways of the Tok'ra?" Carter asked, intrigued, to turn attention away from Daniel's slip.

"Apparently several generations. Sato said it was a dark time for him, but he didn't give up, even though he had believed, as Jaffa, that the Goa'uld were gods. When Kenruku came into his mind, he knew better; he knew that Kenruku was just a powerful being, but no deity. Stranded on a world with no Stargate, Kenruku often let Sato converse with him in his mind. I think they became friends. Kenruku said that he found it interesting to have someone to share his thoughts. They came to depend on each other, and eventually Kenruku let Sato have more and more control. They talked about the Tok'ra and as time passed, Kenruku's leanings went that way. Sato was originally called Sa'tac but he changed his name many times to match the people he lived among. He moved his way east into China, and left there at the time of the Boxer Rebellion, moving to Japan. He was still there when I knew him, but he left the sect before I did and came to this country."

"So we've got another Goa'uld running around America?" Jack muttered. "Oh, swell."

'No, Colonel, we have a Tok'ra running around America," Sam corrected. "One that not even the other Tok'ra know about. They knew about Seth, but not about this Kenruku, since he was never a System Lord."

"And they couldn't sense him when they've been here. If they could, they could have told us where to find Seth," Daniel said excitedly.

"Okay, I'll buy that," O'Neill said. "But what's in it for us? This guy's been here since the dark ages. He doesn't know current Goa'uld politics. None of the Snakeheads out there know him. We don't even know what Goa'uld he was in service to when he was a Jaffa."

"It was one called Yu," McAllister put in.

"Met him, didn't like him," Jack said automatically.

"His knowledge may be out of date but that doesn't say there isn't something he could tell us," General Hammond decided. "I'd like to track him down. Would you be willing to come with us on this one, McAllister, since you know him?"

"I'd like to see Sato again. Maybe even be a part of sending him to his own people. You didn't come right out and say it, but I can tell you've met other Tok'ra. I'd think you'd want more of them to even things out. I know you won't tell me if those explosions I saw a little over a year ago had anything to do with the Goa'uld, since I don't have a need to know. But when I saw them, that was the first thing I thought of. I suspected someone in the government or military knew about the Goa'uld threat. Of course it could have been some political thing or warfare kept from the American people, a couple of SAMs going after a terrorist satellite or something, but I figured something like that could become public. But I didn't think the Goa'uld would." He grinned at their shocked expressions. "I can't help thinking and reasoning, gentlemen--and lady. But I can help violating national security. Which is why I was glad to encounter Teal'c in the park." He gave the Jaffa a smile.

"And give us all heart failure," O'Neill complained.

"I can see how I must have surprised you," McAllister said with a grin. "And there are more like me out there. Sato took one confidante per generation, always people both of them could trust. Since he evidently came to America, there are bound to be at least three of them here. He told us that we could share with one person, someone we trusted completely, as I do Max. He may be in contact with the newest of them now. He won't be going by the name Sato." He grinned. "I always speak of him as 'he', but I suppose 'they' would be a better term. Do you know any Tok'ra well? The English language can handle their double nature, but it feels awkward."

"We...have met the Tok'ra," Hammond confirmed. "Did Sato ever mention any other Tok'ra or Goa'uld living here on Earth?"

"Not to me," McAllister admitted. "I think a part of him always hoped he would find another, or the possibility of a Stargate. He said one was buried somewhere in Egypt, but he didn't know where, and on his own he could never hope to retrieve it." He saw their astonishment. "He talked to me a great deal. It was a relief to him to have someone to whom he could speak frankly. I'd like to see him--both of them--again."

"Do you have any idea where he lives now?" Daniel asked, interested.

"America is a big place. I have not seen him since I came here, but I heard in a roundabout way that he was living in the mountains. North of here, possibly in Colorado. He will not be using the name Sato, of course."

"Of course," O'Neill agreed wryly. "The mountains. Do you know how far the Rocky Mountains reach? Is there any way of pinning this down or will we have to wander from here to the Wyoming border?"

"I might pin it down more than that. My last intelligence was that it was not far from Estes Park."

"Will he be teaching martial arts there?" Carter asked. "Would he be in a telephone book?"

'Possibly. These days, even I am in one, although sometimes I wonder if it's wise. The Ninja opposed by return to America, you see. But only Okasa ever pursued me."

Carter turned to the General. "Do you think we should send for the other Tok'ra, sir?"

"I'll take that under advisement. They could tell, better than we could, if this Kenruku has actual Tok'ra leanings or if he is just lulling the suspicions of people who might have picked up on the fact that he's a Goa'uld."

McAllister grinned. "If you mean did I find out myself, I hadn't. I was new to the training then and the meditation. I was learning but I lacked the refinement I possess today. I had no idea he was anything but a wise teacher when he told me."

"He might have thought your skills were improving so you'd notice soon," Daniel theorized. "General, I think we need to find Kenruku. He might have a lot of information that would help us. Even if he's been stranded here for fifteen hundred years, he'd still have information about the Goa'uld that we could use."

"I still think we need a Tok'ra along with us, sir," Sam repeated. "We could contact my father."

McAllister looked at her sharply. She could sense Goa'uld presence and her words implied her father was a Tok'ra.

"Let's check it out first and contact them when we've got something to tell them," Hammond decided. "I'd like to see Jacob again, too, but we'll wait. I want to retain control of this situation as long as possible."

There was a knock on the door and an airman stepped in. "General Hammond?"

Hammond stepped outside with him and could be heard asking questions. He was back a moment later. "McAllister, your protégée, Max Keller, is at the main gate demanding to know why you've been brought here. He's threatening the weight of the law."

McAllister groaned. Max might have seen him leave the park, effectively surrounded, and followed them here. "Max is an attorney, and a very good one, General. He also knows what I know. I don't want to tell you your business, but the best way to deal with him would be to let him know I'm all right, and have him sign one of the statements like the one I signed. "

"I think we have enough trouble with clearances already," O'Neill disagreed. "This Keller isn't even military. What do we know about him?"

"He's evidently a gifted attorney and very well thought of here and back in Marina Del Rey, where he was in partnership with his father. He has an early history of getting into fights and trouble--no convictions--but his record has been clean for years. He did one stint in the army, honorable discharge with the rank of private first class. Evidently he's a skilled martial artist; teaches it on weekends. He's reputed to have a somewhat hasty temper."

"I never could quite work him through that," McAllister admitted ruefully.

"A loose cannon," O'Neill muttered. "Goodie."

Hammond made a decision. He stepped into the hall. "Bring him down here," he instructed.

*****

At first sight Jack O'Neill didn't care for Max Keller. He was probably around forty, although he had a youthful face that would deceive people for years. He wore his hair a little longer than Jack preferred, although he'd gotten used to that with Daniel before he'd finally had it cut. Keller had a cocky walk that didn't quite match the conservative grey suit he wore. Proper dress for court, but not quite the man's essential nature. Jack knew a troublemaker when he saw one.

"Hey, old fella," Max cried, darting to McAllister's side. "You okay? They haven't tried any strongarm techniques on you? I can have you out of here in ten minutes. I'll get a judge to authorize--"

McAllister dropped a calming hand on his arm. "I came voluntarily, Max. I'm not hurt and I'm not a prisoner."

"You're not? But--" his eyes traveled around the room, taking in Hammond's rank with a lift of a mobile eyebrow. He saw Carter next and the eyebrow did a different routine--admiring male in the presence of the opposite sex. Carter gave him an amused smile. O'Neill interested him differently. He stood quite still, measuring, consciously straightening to his full height and sucking in his already-flat-as-a-board gut. Alpha male routine? Jack hesitated, torn between slumping and flexing his muscles. Daniel frankly puzzled Keller as if he realized Jackson wasn't the type to be part of whatever project he'd stumbled into. Then he saw Teal'c.

Brow wrinkling, he regarded the Jaffa with puzzlement, then wild speculation. He caught McAllister's eyes and the old man didn't reply aloud but some signal passed between them that proved how close and in tune with each other they were. "I don't know how you do it," he muttered and winked at McAllister. Then he stuck out his hand to Teal'c, who stared at it but did not take it, and said:

"Welcome to Earth."

O'Neill groaned. "Bad idea. Bad idea," he muttered under his breath.

"Mr. Keller, you have inflicted yourself upon a top secret government project," Hammond put in hastily. "Anything you see and hear while on his base is classified and may not be repeated outside these walls. I have a statement of non-disclosure I would like you to sign."

"It's all right, Max, we're all on the same side," McAllister said hastily. "I signed one myself. I was grateful for the opportunity."

"You should have waited for your family lawyer to look it over first," Max protested, but it was a show protest. He accepted the form Hammond passed him and read it thoughtfully, even though his eyes couldn't help sneaking over to Teal'c. O'Neill knew the look. Keller had never met an alien before and it was in the process of blowing his mind.

"Lawyers!" O'Neill said just loudly enough for Keller to hear. He'd had enough of the breed after his divorce.

"Try to run the world without us," Keller said, rocking on the balls of his feet. "The statement's valid," he added. "You just promised not to pass along the knowledge, old fella. But if these people know already, maybe you don't have to. What do they want with you?"

"They want to find Sato," McAllister replied. "I suspect Major Carter's father is a Tok'ra but that he is, er, offworld right now."

"Offworld? There's a whatsit, a Stargate here?"

"Would you pass through it, Max?"

"Wouldn't you?" His eyes were wide with excitement at the possibility. As gung ho as Daniel.

"I've had no direct confirmation of its presence, Max, and I doubt we'd be allowed to travel through it in any case. Never mind. We have a different task to perform. We need to find Sato."

"I always wanted to meet Sato," Max said hopefully.

"Okay, kiddies," O'Neill interrupted their little dialog. He rolled his eyes at Daniel, who had been watching the two newcomers in fascination, and turned expectantly to Hammond.

"We need to find this Tok'ra, and make sure he really is one and not a regular Goa'uld," Hammond decided. "SG-1, I'll postpone your next mission for three days. I want you to go with McAllister--and Keller," he added reluctantly, "and track down this Sato. Bring him here. If he really has Tok'ra leanings, he may have useful information for us. And as long as he's out there, he's a chance at a security breach. I remember that Hathor knew the gate was here. If Sato is in Colorado, he may have been close enough to know it was here, too. I wonder what the range is. Maybe you can find that out, too."

"Sir, are you sure we shouldn't contact the Tok'ra first?"

"I'll take that under advisement, Major. I suspect we'll need the Tok'ra later. For now, check out this Sato, make sure he's really what he claims to be."

That was okay with Jack, although he didn't mind Jacob Carter as much as he did some of the others. Even knowing the Tok'ra were, in general, on the same side and that they'd helped out Earth before, O'Neill wasn't comfortable with the species in general. The thought of that snake inside them made him wary. But Jacob Carter had been Air Force. Technically, he still was. If the Tok'ra sent him, it wouldn't be so bad, but there were no guarantees. He nodded in agreement. "We can leave right away," he offered.

"Civilian clothes for this one, Colonel," Hammond decided. "You'll call less attention to yourselves."

*****

Daniel Jackson was excited the following afternoon as they neared the home of Sato. The thought of discovering a Tok'ra who had been on Earth for fifteen hundred years meant a chance to talk to someone who had watched history being made. The information in his head would be invaluable, even if he hadn't been a Tok'ra host. He'd know how much of the history in the history books was real, how much had been twisted. Although Daniel's interest had always been in ancient cultures, he couldn't help being fascinated at the thought of someone who had been alive at the time of the Norman Conquest, the American Revolution. Of course Sato's direct personal knowledge would probably only include the Far East. But what he'd lived through!

The man had been surprisingly easy to locate, at least on paper. McAllister had several possible names for the man. Sato had wanted it to be possible for McAllister to locate him later, if necessary. One of them was Michael David Ohara, and it had taken Daniel a few minutes on the computer to locate someone by that name living outside of Estes Park. According to tax records, he had been there ten years, and he ran a dojo where he taught Karate and Tai Chi. There was even a telephone number at the dojo, although not at his residence.

Jack had wanted to avoid calling ahead. "I think I'd be happier if he didn't know we were coming." So the six of them drove up there in a van belonging to Max Keller.

"I've always had vans and SUV's," the attorney admitted. "It was handy in the days when my home was where I stood, before I met McAllister, and I got into the habit." He'd called his law office and arranged to be away for several days. "Good thing I don't have a court date till Monday."

Jack hadn't been keen on letting Keller come, but Hammond had reminded him that the lawyer knew about Sato/Ohara, and it was better to have him where he could be watched. Not that he was a security risk in particular. After all, someone in his profession had to know when to keep his mouth shut. But he was an outsider. Of course, so was McAllister, but no one ever suggested he wasn't trustworthy. Daniel could tell why Teal'c had been drawn to him in the park. There was something reminiscent of Master Bra'tac about him, strength, a dry humor, a very deep sense of honor. He also reminded Daniel of Kasuf, although his good father didn't possess the same sense of the ridiculous.

Keller pulled the van to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. "I think it's up there," he said, jerking a thumb at a narrow, gravel road that vanished into the pine trees. Mountains towered high overhead, snow coating their tops already. This high, there were even faint traces of snow on the ground in shadowed spots where the sun didn't fall. Although it wasn't cold enough to be able to see his breath, Daniel was glad he'd worn a jacket.

"Do you know what this is going to do to my shocks?" Max complained, but he turned dutifully, moaning at the sight of the rutted road.

They went a quarter mile into the forest, the air crisp and pine scented, the sound of a babbling brook that paced them echoing in their ears. When they emerged into a small clearing, they found a modern log cabin a story and a half high perched up against the trees of the far side, smoke rising from a chimney on the higher side of the structure. Parked in front of it was an old blue Chevy Chevelle that was badly in need of a coat of paint.

Max parked the SUV behind it and they all climbed out just as the cabin door opened and a man emerged. He looked no more than fifty, a few strands of grey in his jet black hair that he wore long, the way Daniel had once worn his hair, and he made no attempt to conceal the faint remnants of a Jaffa tattoo. The shape was blurred, indistinct, something that might evoke a stare or a quick averting of the eyes but far less dramatic than Teal'c's. Yet, there was no wariness or fear in the way he stood in the doorway. Instead, his shoulders were squared with a pride of person, and his mouth was drawn tight and level. It was as if he had expected a tribunal and he prepared to face it with courage. His eyes did not glow; he did not give away the Goa'uld within. But he stood waiting, unarmed, to meet an expected fate.

Then he saw Teal'c, saw the mark of Apophis on his forehead, and some of his tension departed, although it did not all go away.

"Master Sato," McAllister said, taking a step closer.

"That is...an old name." The supposed Tok'ra turned his attention on the old man, and he regarded him consideringly. Then, from deep within, a smile emerged. "John Peter McAllister," he said. "There are a great many years between the man I last saw and the one who stands beside me. It is good to see you again. And to see you in the presence of a Jaffa of Apophis interests me."

"I am no longer in the service of Apophis," Teal'c proclaimed. "I am Teal'c, and once I was his First Prime, but now I side with the people of Earth. I am aware of your goa'uld."

"Are you also aware of the existence of the Tok'ra?" asked Sato in a calm, reasonable voice. "My symbiote came to believe in their practices many centuries ago. Perhaps if he had been a system lord it would have been different, but he was not. He was like the larva you carry in your belly, grown to maturity. He has never been around others of his kind since I was stranded on this planet."

"That's what McAllister told us," O'Neill put in. "I'm Col. Jack O'Neill."

"And you possess knowledge of the threat the Goa'uld could mean to this planet? You also know, perhaps, of the Goa'uld attack a little more than a year ago?"

"How do you know of that?"

"I saw the fireball in the sky. I had been expecting their arrival. Or rather, Kenruku had." He bowed his head, and when he lifted it again, his eyes glowed and another consciousness looked out. When he spoke, it was with the deepened voice SG-1 had long learned to associate with the Goa'uld. "I am Kenruku, and I am of the Tok'ra persuasion. I am no threat to Earth, at least not by choice. I too welcome you, McAllister. It has been too long since our last conversation. I believe you have found those in a position of authority who know of the Goa'uld. You have come just in time."

Daniel saw Jack tense. "In time for what?"

"In time for a trouble not entirely of my making. Let us go within." He gestured them into the cabin.

Once they were settled inside, seated on rough benches and chairs in an austere living room and introductions were made, Kenruku offered them coffee, heading for a kitchen separated from the living area with a patterned Navajo blanket. While he was pouring it, Daniel glanced around the room, discovering it was as unadorned as Teal'c's quarters back at the base. There were two photos in cheap frames on either end of the mantle and hung above them over the fireplace, was a mounted sword, a katana, Daniel thought, although he didn't know much about swords. Leaning up against the mantle stood a case the size to hold the weapon.

The furniture had a handmade look to it, primitive and unadorned with carvings, although the seats were comfortable. There was no television set in the room, but a radio/cassette player stood on a table in the corner with a stack of cassettes beside it. Probably battery operated, because Daniel had not noticed power lines running to the cabin, and the lamps on the table were the old fashioned oil kind. The upper half of the cabin held the bedroom where a futon was spread out on a wooden frame, a battered, leather tote bag tossed open beside it, a few items hastily stowed within. An open wardrobe revealed empty hangars. It seemed as if they had arrived to find the Tok'ra packing. Had he known they were coming?

Kenruku returned with coffee cups on a tray and offered them to everyone. When they were seen to, he pushed a button on the cassette player and a faint thread of music full of bamboo flutes created a background ambiance that made McAllister smile in recognition. Jack, who didn't care for New Age music, concealed a grimace.

"I'm glad to see you again, John," the Tok'ra said as if continuing a conversation. "Interested to meet your new pupil." He smiled at Max, who grinned slightly uneasily. He'd heard of the Goa'uld and Tok'ra but he'd never met one before. From the sidelong glances he'd been giving Teal'c, it was clear he had eerie feelings about the whole thing. If he sensed that, Sato felt no annoyance, only amusement. He continued, "And very glad to know that you remembered all I said to you--and that you acted upon it. Your arrival couldn't be more timely."

"I thought you were expecting trouble," Daniel said involuntarily. "When we got here, you were expecting someone else, weren't you?"

"I picked up on that, too," put in Max. "When you saw we weren't who you were expecting, you looked relieved."

"I was relieved. I have managed to get myself into a spot of trouble. Unfortunately, someone saw me recently. I mean saw me." He gestured at his eyes, and they glowed on cue. "The person who saw me is not a tolerant man. Unfortunately, he is the type you would consider both a 'redneck' and a survivalist. He lives in a cabin a few miles from here, armed with many weapons. He has friends who share his persuasion, plus his intolerance and his fondness for liquor. I could not stop him without destroying him, so I have been planning to depart."

"You think they have realized you are not of Earth?" Teal'c asked.

"What else can they think? This is a paranoid culture. I had my ribbon device on and was, rather lazily, using it to cut wood for my fireplace. A stupid mistake on my part." He smiled suddenly. "As a Jaffa I had no such weapons, but over the centuries I have made a point of seeking out Goa'uld artifacts. A very few of them can be found, if one has the time and patience to discover them and understand them for what they are. It took me three hundred years go find that. Another six hundred to find a healing device. I even used it on myself to conceal the Jaffa brand." He touched his scarred forehead. "To use such a device on oneself is not always successful, certainly not wise. But this calls far less attention than--" He gestured at Teal'c. "There are others I have sought and never found. It has been many years since there were Goa'uld on Earth. At least any other than such as I, who have been in hiding." He frowned. "I was seen using the device. A foolish mistake. Short of using it on Taylor, I had no choice but to let him go. My beliefs allow me to kill only in self-defense or for a higher purpose. I chose, instead, to depart, but time is short. Now that you have come, perhaps you can solve my most pressing problem."

Jack caught the eyes of his team, disquiet on his face. He was ready for trouble--and he wasn't surprised about it. He hadn't come out here to aid and abet a reunion. "And just what problem have you got?" he asked in the tones of someone who is not sure he wants to hear the answer.

Kenruku went across the room and used a key from a chain around his neck to open a battered, old footlocker. He must have packed it before they arrived in preparation for a sudden departure. "I do not know if you have access to a Stargate, but the presence of Teal'c among you suggests that you do. If this is so, perhaps you know of a barren, uninhabited world on the other side where you may send this." He turned, holding out a small orb made of beaten bronze, patterns etched into it that might have been a form of hieroglyphics. It had a little indentation at the top, a circular area that could be depressed. Kenruku was careful not to touch that part of it. Remembering the device that had attacked the base and shot out a protrusion that had pinned Jack to the wall in the Gate room, Daniel eyed it uneasily trying from where he sat to translate the symbols. From the angle he had, he could only make out one of them. Unfortunately, it read 'death'. Why wasn't it ever easy?

"I believe I have little time to give this to you," Kenruku said. "It was left behind when the Goa'uld I once served departed this world in the midst of a battle. It is also my belief that it may have been abandoned on purpose, to destroy this planet."

"Whoa, wait a minute. Back up," Jack instructed. "Come on, that little thing can destroy a whole planet?"

"It can," Teal'c put in. "I believe that it is a ken'torak. Such devices are ancient and very rare. I have never seen one until now. They are a means of planetary destruction, a passive means that can be performed from a safe distance. Do you remember the combination of substances that were implanted in Rya'c's teeth when we brought him to Earth? Apart, both were harmless. Together, they were lethal. So, too, are the contents of a ken'torak."

"Precisely," agreed Kenruku. "Yu left this behind at the same time he left me. The villagers who had not been stolen found it and I had to steal it from them to protect my own life--at that time, I still cared nothing for theirs. They meant to throw it into their fire; that could have activated it. Violent movement, heat, attempts to open the device could all force the contents into conjunction with each other."

"And what would happen then?" Jack asked sourly.

"All plant life on Earth would die. It would take several weeks, but once the containers within meshed, the process could not be recalled. I have carried this container with me for fifteen hundred years. I have guarded it with my life because to let it fall into careless hands would be to doom this planet."

"Then be careful with it," Jack said, casting an alarmed glance at Sam, who nodded.

"I could run a computer projection, sir, but I would guess that the time frame is valid. Within a month, this would be a dead planet. Without the oxygen produced by plants, the human race could not survive. Vast climactic changes would destroy life as we know it. Look at the damage done by the continuing destruction of the Amazon rain forest. This might be the most lethal device we have ever encountered on this planet."

"And you believe this Taylor you spoke of might come here and attack you?" McAllister asked.

"Yes and if he did he would destroy my possessions along with me, or steal them. He would not understand the dangers involved. He wouldn't believe me if I told him. If he thought the orb was dangerous, he would attempt to destroy it--or use it to create power for himself. We must get it out of here to a place of safety before he arrives."

"Do you believe this?" Jack asked McAllister.

"I believe every word he's said," the old Ninja replied. "I think his suggestion to send it through the Stargate to a barren world might be the Earth's only chance of survival."

"I concur, sir," Sam agreed. "This device is very old, and it must be fragile. Even moving it to the Stargate will be dangerous."

"And we haven't got time to send for a nice, secure vehicle," Keller pointed out. "We'll have to go now before these troublemakers show up." He looked like he wanted to be sick. Remembering their bouncing ride on the rutted road, Daniel grimaced.

Kenruku spoke again. No, it was Sato. "I have known of this since I was stranded here. At first, I would have liked to keep the knowledge from Kenruku, but I never could. Even before he changed his beliefs, he knew of it; I could hide nothing from him in those days. Now, I don't choose to. Instead, I would move it to a secure location. I never risked burying it. That would never be a foolproof solution. I always hoped to get it off this planet, but that hasn't been an option. Until now."

Jack was frowning. "I'm not saying I doubt you, but that thing could be harmless, something you use just so we'd bring you to the Stargate--assuming we had a Stargate in the first place."

"Then take me into custody. Lock me up, if you must. But get that device off the planet. And don't wait. Taylor and his friends could arrive at any moment." He nodded at Jack's sidearm. "Even if you are armed, that won't be any match for the AK-47s and Uzis they'll probably carry."

"He's right, sir," Sam insisted. "We should leave this location now. We can decide what to do later. Call it in, secure the location if we have to, but this should be taken to the base. Teal'c, are you sure this is a ken'torak?"

"It bears a strong resemblance to the pictorial representations I have seen of such devices," he confirmed.

"Then, let's move out. I don't suppose you've got any protective shielding for it?" Jack asked.

Sato brought out a box, slightly bigger than the ken'torak, padded with foam rubber cut out to fit around the device. He inserted it into the box with utmost care and closed it. "That is the best I can manage."

"Then let's move it," Jack urged, gesturing them toward the door.

They had just reached it when the roar of a number of vehicles approaching at great speed burst into the clearing. Jack grimaced. "I don't like the sound of that," he said, closing the door hastily and moving over to a window.

"At least we didn't meet them on the road," muttered Keller.

Sato peered out over Jack's shoulder. "Taylor," he confirmed.

Jack drew his sidearm. "Six cars. Carter, you armed?"

"Yes sir." Her gun was already in her hand.

Teal'c produced a zat gun from within his jacket and Sato passed the box to a surprised Daniel and went over and took down the katana from the wall. McAllister produced several small items from inner pockets.

"You," Kenruku said to Daniel. "Go. Take the ken'torak. Out the back now. Go up into the woods. If you go due west from here for a hundred yards, you will come to a stream. Cross it, turn right, and you will find a cave. Hide there until we come from you. And hurry before they circle the house." He looked around the room, measuring his company. "You," he added, stabbing a finger at Keller. "Go with him."

"Jack?" Daniel questioned.

"We must protect it, sir," Carter put in.

Jack didn't like it. Daniel could see it in his eyes. He hated taking orders from a Goa'uld, even if he was really a Tok'ra. But he also didn't like the idea of such a device falling into dangerous hands. He hesitated a split second, then he nodded abruptly. "Go."

"Go with him, Max," McAllister said in an undertone.

Keller hesitated, then he closed his mouth and nodded. "Come on," he said to Daniel. Already he held two Ninja throwing stars in his hands.

"Daniel," Jack said as they moved toward the rear door. "Watch your back."

"There are too many of them," Daniel replied. "You watch yours." Suddenly, his heart dropped into his stomach. Jack, Sam, and Teal'c were providing rear guard action for him to get away. He knew it was because the device had to be removed and because, unarmed, he was the most easily spared. But what he was doing was leaving his comrades behind to face possible death while he went to safety. Jack had been forced to leave him behind on Klorel's ship, but both of them had believed he was dying. That was different. No, maybe it wasn't. Maybe Jack had felt then as he felt right now. His eyes met O'Neill's for one brief instant, then he made himself turn and run with Keller. If he had hesitated one more second, he didn't think he could have gone. He couldn't face the look in Jack's eyes any longer. This had started so simply; the quest for a possible Tok'ra. It shouldn't have turned into a life or death mission, not right here on Earth.

Keller guided him out the back door. The trees closed in immediately, which was good because they would give shelter. "Hurry," the younger Ninja urged, setting a course in the right direction with unerring instinct. Behind them they could hear yells and curses, threats. The words were slurred; Taylor and his friends had stoked their courage with alcohol. As the trees closed around Daniel and Keller, the first gunshots rang out--semi-automatic weapons' fire. Daniel jerked to a halt and saw Keller do the same, his face holding the same regret and worry Daniel felt. Then he stiffened. "The old fella can take care of himself," he muttered under his breath.

"How many men are they up against?" Daniel asked, forcing himself to move further into the trees. He felt like he was deserting his friends, but Keller must feel the same.

"I think around fourteen of them. The Master can handle himself--but, damn it, he's not young any more."

"He has a Jaffa and a Tok'ra with him, not to mention the rest of my team," Daniel reassured the younger man. He could hear the familiar sound of Jack's and Sam's weapons returning fire, giving him cover to escape with the alien device.

"Yeah, well, I don't know about your team," Keller countered. "I know that the best friend I ever had is down there. I don't want to be up here. I want to be down there. Come on," he urged. "Hurry."

"They're not just the people I work with," Daniel countered, trying to run without endangering the ken-torak. He heard shouts closer at hand and knew that Keller had heard them, too. He wasn't sure they'd been seen, but it sounded like the militia types were surrounding the cabin. "They're my family, too."

"Then we won't give them any reason to worry," Keller insisted. His face twisted with indecision. Hadn't McAllister said something about his pupil being hotheaded in his younger days? He was fighting the old instincts just to keep going.

More shooting rang out, this time closer at hand. Daniel ducked involuntarily just as something hot and hard hit him in the arm. Fierce pain radiated through his body and the box containing the ken'torak erupted from his hands and soared up through the air as he went down hard on the rugged ground.

Max Keller didn't waste time yelling or exclaiming. He flat out ran, leaping into the air and yanking the box down the way he might have caught a winning touchdown. When he turned, his face had lost all color and his eyes were wide and horrified. He stood frozen, waiting to see if the violent movement had triggered the device.

"We have...to move," Daniel gritted out. His arm was burning with agony. Pushing himself up with his other hand, he sat, shaken and stunned, waiting for more shots or for the survivalists to race up and capture them. Neither happened. It may have been a random shot or the shooter may have been distracted. "We have to get out of here."

"It might have triggered--" Max chopped off the words abruptly. He must have known as well as Daniel did that if that had happened there was no point in running. But if it hadn't happened, they had to get away. "How bad is your arm?" he asked.

"I don't...think it's broken," Daniel faltered. His other hand had curled around it involuntarily; now he lifted it. "It didn't...hit an artery."

"We don't need you losing any more blood." Depositing the box on the ground as if it contained nitroglycerine, Max yanked off his jacket and tore the sleeve from his shirt, wrapping it tight around the injury. "Stop the bleeding first. We'll take care of the rest when we get to that cave Sato mentioned."

Daniel felt light-headed but alert. He allowed Max to finish the dressing. "We need to get back-up for them," he said. "I didn't see any phone lines running into the cabin, but I've got a cell phone in my pocket."

"We're too close. Come on." Keller levered him to his feet, hesitated a second to make sure Daniel wouldn't fall over, then he bent and retrieved the box, tucking it cautiously under his arm. The plants beside it hadn't started to die. Daniel drew a cautious breath, tilting his head to listen.

Shooting still rang out below them. Some of it was close at hand. He could hear shouting, mostly the attackers, but intermingled with it came an occasional yell from Jack or Teal'c, and once a cry that sounded like in Ninja shout.

"McAllister," Keller confirmed. "Come on." His mouth tight, he slid his free arm around Daniel's waist to steady him and led him up the rocky slope to the creek.

The air was crisp and heady with the tang of pines and Daniel could hear the babble of the stream before they reached it. Not far now. Not far to shelter. Once he could sit down and Max could bandage him properly, then he could send Keller back down to help his friends.

They stumbled through the water, careful of their footing. Tripping was not an option. "If I start to go down," he faltered, "let me. That box is more important."

"Shhh!" Keller's urgent silencing sound made Daniel gulp and hold his breath. He wasn't sure what the older man heard, probably because Daniel's blood was rushing so noisily in his veins and the water babbling so loudly around his feet that he couldn't hear anything else.

"Shit," Keller muttered and instead of turning left, he headed right, diving into a thicket and forcing Daniel to the ground. He set the box down beside him with aching caution and stretched out flat beside it. "Don't move." The words were the merest breath of sound.

Daniel held his breath. A few seconds later someone came rushing up the slope to the water. He charged off to the left. "Somebody's up here somewhere," he hollered back the way he had come. "I saw blood down there a bit."

A distant voice answered, the sound too blurred for Daniel to make out. It sounded urgent. Beside him, Keller's body jerked, and Daniel could see him fighting conditioning not to move.

"All right, but somebody got away," yelled the nearer voice. "I wanted to check out that cave."

Distant protests responded.

"Dammit," shouted the man close at hand, then he galloped back down the slope. Max stayed unmoving until they couldn't hear his noisy passage any longer, then he lifted his head, his face parchment pale.

"He said they had firebombs," he breathed.

No sooner had he spoken the words than a fierce explosion in the direction of the cabin made them both start to their feet. The whoosh of flames was audible even from here.

"Is that...the cabin?" Daniel asked, sick with fear for his friends.

Max nodded, his eyes huge and miserable. "I think so." A second explosion of flame echoed the first one. Distant yelling was only a jumble of sound.

"I'm going down there," Max insisted.

Daniel caught his arm. "You can't," he said, hating the words he had to speak. "You have to get the ken'torak back to Cheyenne Mountain. I'll go. They know they hit somebody. If I go down there, they won't look for you."

"Sure, sacrifice yourself?" Max snapped. "What good would that do?"

"It would keep them from coming after you," Daniel returned hotly. "I want to rush down there and save them, too." He gnawed on his bottom lip. "But I can't. I'm hurt. If they're still...alive, I'd give them one more person to protect."

"So you're gonna run down there and throw your life away? That's damned stupid. You were right the first time. We take the box out of here. I don't like it any more than you do, but it's the only thing to do." He looked as if the decision tore him up inside, just as it did Daniel. For a long moment, a look of perfect understanding passed between them. Then Max helped Daniel to his feet. "Come on. We'll wade in the creek for awhile and try to lose them that way. This ground isn't dry; it'll take footprints. We can't go downstream. I saw the brook come out just beyond the cabin. They'd see us. We can't hide in the cave either. They know about it. We'll go upstream. They won't expect that. Do you think you can make it a mile or two? I don't want to stop before then."

Daniel felt wobbly on his feet, but the thought of what might be happening to his friends right now gave him strength. He had to get the box back to the Stargate. If he succeeded, then his friends wouldn't have...wouldn't have sent him away for nothing. They weren't dead. He wouldn't believe they were dead. "I can go as long as you can," he said, wishing his voice didn't quiver as he spoke. The only thing that would stop him was unconsciousness.

Max Keller eyed him with approval. "Good man," he said, and helped him down to the stream.

*****

Jack O'Neill was rapidly coming to the conclusion that John Peter McAllister was an excellent man to have on his side in a crisis. The elderly Ninja proved to have a fascinating supply of handy little toys in his pockets. Who'd have thought that the retiree in the tweed jacket would prove to be a walking arsenal of throwing stars, smoke bombs, and other sweet little gizmos he didn't recognize but was rapidly coming to appreciate? The elderly ninja had already taken out three of the drunken attackers, one a second before he would have blasted Carter. The sight of a shuriken sticking out of the man's chest wasn't pretty, but Carter was alive and Jack considered it a fair exchange.

There were fifteen men in all--his count and Kenruku's matched perfectly--and the thing that was bugging Jack was that he was sure a couple of them had circled around and gone after Daniel. The only thing keeping him from breaking out of the rear of the cabin and going after them was the fact that he hadn't heard any triumphant yells of discovery coming from back there yet.

"Max is a good man," McAllister said understandingly in his ear. "I have taught him everything I know. He doesn't yet have my judgment, but he's matured remarkably. He will protect your Daniel with his life, and the box as well."

Jack hadn't realized his worry had been showing. Give Daniel a weapon and an enemy the other side of the Stargate and he acquitted himself well, almost as good as a trained soldier these days. But they weren't on the other side of the Stargate and Daniel wasn't armed. Worse, his movements were hampered by that gadget that could end life on the planet, and he was protected by a lawyer, for crying out loud. Jack couldn't let himself concentrate on his friend's danger, not with a present battle going on, but his worry hovered in the back of his mind.

"I'm going out to their lead truck," McAllister announced.

"Are you nuts?" Jack exploded. "They'll blow you away." Over at the other window, Carter took aim with calm efficiency, and beyond her, Teal'c wielded his zat gun with the precision of expert training.

McAllister grinned. "They won't even see me. A Ninja walks in the shadows. We are the shadows." He held up a small, round pellet. "A smoke bomb. I'll get there and do what I can."

"Don't want to put you down," Jack muttered, taking aim and hitting one of the crazed men advancing on the house and yelling his head off. He jerked as Jack's bullet hit him and went down flat. "But you're not a kid, McAllister. You sure about this?"

Carter displayed a cell phone. "I called for backup, sir," she yelled, tucking it into her pocket and raising her gun. "They'll have someone here in ten minutes." She darted to the furthest window and took aim.

Jack looked out at the milling men in the clearing. Ten minutes might be too late. But if they could keep them occupied, make sure no one went after Daniel, no one got that device...

He turned back. "McAllister, I--"

The old man was gone.

"Son of a bitch," Jack exploded. "I knew that old guy would be trouble."

Kenruku materialized at his side, the ribbon device fitted to his hand. "He is trouble, O'Neill," the Tok'ra said. "He is probably the most dangerous human you will ever meet. I will give him cover now." He stepped into the window, raised his palm, and shot fire at the first truck. He would have hit it, too, if Jack hadn't seen the lurking gunman ready to fire and pulled Kenruku back. Great, now I'm saving snakeheads, he thought wryly. Okay, so he was a Tok'ra. It still felt weird.

Kenruku's blast took out a tree near the truck, causing general consternation among the survivalists, who retreated, shouting, to the cover of the vehicle. Jack thought he saw a movement behind them, an old man who moved like a much younger one, easing into the back of the second truck.

One of the men yelled something about firebombs.

Firebombs?

Jack exchanged an uneasy glance with Carter and Teal'c. These creeps had come armed for bear. Jack slotted a new clip into his gun.

Abruptly the first truck blew up.

"Yaaa," shouted Jack, ducking as pieces of falling debris crashed through the window, missing him by inches.

"McAllister," said Kenruku in tones of deep satisfaction, jumping to his feet and checking his ribbon device before he fired at the milling men, scattering them.

"McAllister did that?" Carter demanded, exchanging a doubtful look with Teal'c.

"I heard one of them mention firebombs. I think John found them and put them to good use." He gestured at the burning wreckage.

"O'Neill!" called Teal'c warningly. "They are attacking again."

The Jaffa was right. The men who hadn't been killed by the exploding truck had gathered in a bunch, grabbing up the weapons of their fallen comrades. There were seven of them left, all sporting minor wounds, but their faces held the kind of grim determination that took people into suicide attacks. They were ready to charge up the San Juan Hill or take Iwo Jima. That looked bad.

The second fire bomb hit just behind them, knocking three of them to the ground. The other four kept on coming, raking the cabin with heavy weapons fire. SG-1 hit the floor, popping up to take aim and shoot, then ducking back again. Bullets punched holes in the logs just over O'Neill's head.

Teal'c leaped to his feet and fired the zat gun at them. He hit the man in the lead, who went down yelling and twitching.

"Goddam it, they got ray guns in there," screeched one of them, retreating nervously without turning his back on the cabin. "I'm outta here."

"You stay in line, Jenkins," bawled the one Jack had singled out as the leader. "If you run it won't be the space aliens who kill you. It'll be me." He charged forward, firing with two AK-47s. Carter let out a choked cry and fell to the floor, clutching her left leg in both hands.

Kenruku, eyes glowing savagely, raised his palm and let fire, hitting the leader, Taylor, full in the chest. The impact of the attack lifted the man off his feet and flung him backward. He crashed against a tree trunk with a unspeakable thunk and slid down against the bark, leaving smears of blood on the way down. Jack grimaced.

With shrieks of superstitious terror, the two remaining men turned to run, only to come face to face with John Peter McAllister, who proceeded to kick one of them expertly in the belly and send him to the ground.

The remaining man, Jenkins, dropped his weapons without waiting for orders, and thrust his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender, terror on his face.

Eyes on the downed men to make sure no one suddenly jumped up and attacked, O'Neill looked out at the old Ninja and muttered, "Not bad. Not too damned bad at all."

"Major Carter, are you badly hurt?" Teal'c knelt beside her.

"I think it's just a graze," she offered through clenched teeth. "It doesn't feel good, but I'm not losing that much blood." Her eyes sought out O'Neill's. "I'll be all right, sir."

Jack measured the look in her eyes against the blood that oozed between her fingers and decided she was right. He reached down and gave her shoulder a squeeze before straightening up. "Take care of her, Teal'c," he instructed and went out with Kenruku, his gun at ready, to disarm the survivalists and make sure they were immobilized.

McAllister met him, grinning, and helped him secure them. He had a nifty little thingie that bound two thumbs together that he used after pulling men's hands behind their backs. "They can't get out of this without Ninja training," he said with a grin, adding,. "A good fight. It's been too long since I enjoyed myself this much."

"You fought well, John," Kenruku said, binding the last of the men. "Are they all accounted for?"

"Thirteen...fourteen...fifteen." Jack nodded. "Yep, we got 'em all. I half thought some of them went after Daniel." He turned and stared past the cabin.

"Some of them did," McAllister said. "But they came back."

He and McAllister exchanged doubtful glances. "You don't think..." Jack began. He didn't want to finish that sentence. Raising his voice, he bellowed, "Daniel, come home, all's forgiven!" at the top of his lungs. They all waited, but there was no distant shout. His voice should have carried to Kenruku's cave.

"I heard no shooting in that direction," Kenruku offered. No, it was Sato again. "A few shots went that way, but I think it would have been chance had one of them been struck. Come, we must go to the cave and retrieve them. They might not hear us if they were concealed deep inside."

Jack wanted to go. He wanted to go in the worst way, to make sure he hadn't sent Daniel into danger, to reassure himself that whoever had pursued him hadn't left two bodies up there in the woods. But these characters who had attacked them were dangerous. Even with them tied up, he didn't want to let them out of his sight. That meant he had to stay here, at least until Teal'c was finished bandaging Carter.

"I'll watch our 'friends' here," he offered.

McAllister nodded knowingly, understanding how hard it was to choose to wait. "I will bring your Daniel back," he promised and went with Sato around the house.

Jack eyed the burning remnants of the truck, making sure the fire wasn't going to spread. The last thing they needed was a forest fire on top of everything else. Luckily, the truck had been parked on bare earth. It didn't look like the fading fire meant to spread. Damn it, Daniel, you better be okay, he thought.

The approach of a distant siren caught his attention and he paused, cocking his head to listen. Yep, it was heading this way. Carter's backup? State troopers who had heard the shooting? Whoever it was, Jack was glad of it, although he could have explained the carnage more easily to the military. With the highway patrol, he'd have to watch what he said, give nothing away. The military would accept a clandestine mission. The state boys would want more information than Jack could give.

Teal'c emerged from the cabin, no visible trace of the zat gun. "Major Carter's wound is not serious. She will be able to walk on it, but I left her inside and gave her water, as she will need to replace fluids."

"Better put your hat on," Jack replied. "Backup's on the way."

Teal'c went inside for the knit cap he had worn on the way up here and returned with it in place just as two cars of state troopers burst out into the clearing. Jack set his weapon on the ground and went to meet them.

*****

Max Keller spent more time in his office and in court than he did working out these days, but he wasn't out of shape. The Master would never let him get soft just because he had a desk job. As he helped Daniel climb out of the stream onto rocky ground where their wet footprints would quickly evaporate in the dry air, he was glad of the training he'd had. Half-hauling the injured Daniel for a couple of miles through the stream bed had taken its toll, and he was, if not short of breath, more tired than he'd expected to be.

Daniel, on the other hand, was drained and weary from the blood loss, but he was stubbornly on his feet. Max had offered to fashion a sling for him, but he'd declined. "No, leave my arm free for balance," he'd insisted. "I won't slow you down."

He hadn't, either, although he must be on his last legs. As they scrambled up the rocky bank, Max had to admit Daniel was one of the most stubbornly persistent guys he'd come across. You had to respect a man like that.

Max guided Daniel to a rock and urged him to sit down, placing the deadly box carefully beside it. "Five minute breather," he instructed.

Daniel collapsed onto the rock. His face held an unhealthy pallor from the blood he'd lost, and he was breathing hard. Max realized he didn't dare let the break last too long or Daniel wouldn't be able to get up again. On the hopefully easier terrain away from the streambed, Daniel might plod along for a few more miles before they rested again but Max had to get his bearings before they started off. Wandering deeper and deeper into the woods wouldn't help anyone. They had to find civilization.

It had been a long time since they'd heard firing; it had stopped with the explosions. Max didn't want to think what that meant. Unless Sato kept a few grenades around, he was pretty sure the explosions had been caused by the survivalists. He didn't want to think that McAllister might be dead. It was pretty clear that Daniel feared the same fate for his friends. He was trying not to show it, but his worry was more painful to him than his wound.

"Listen, Max," he said now, cradling his injured arm. "I know I'd slow you down, so I'll hide with the box. You go back and check. Make sure they're all right."

Max wanted to. He knew he could get close and see what was going down. But Sato had said these guys were survivalists. Even drunk, they would have some woods skills, and a major firefight had probably sobered most of them up in record time. If he went down there, he stood a good chance of being seen and followed. He couldn't risk it, not if the box was what Sato claimed it to be. None of the people from Cheyenne Mountain had doubted it, and Teal'c, who wasn't really from Cheyenne Mountain but from...out there...had recognized it. Max shivered involuntarily. Aliens from outer space! It ought to be the biggest crock he'd ever heard, but he believed it. The Master was the least gullible man Max had ever known and he accepted it without question.

"Can't take that chance," he said ruefully. "Daniel, listen. I want to go down there as much as you do, but we got dealt a crummy hand. We're stuck with the box from hell. If that thing really can wipe out life on Earth, we can't go back. We have to go on, find a road, grab a ride. If...if our team's okay, they'll come after us or send help. We have to stay out of sight until then."

"But you could sneak down..." Daniel persisted hopefully.

Max shook his head. "Those guys are survivalists. Not only are they heavily armed, you can bet they're at home in the woods. I can't risk them spotting me and trailing me back to you. And I hate it as much as you do."

Daniel was silent a long minute, his face twisted into resentment of Max's words, then he forced it away as he accepted the reasoning. "You're as bad as Jack," he muttered, and the words made him wince. "He's always restraining me," he added. "He says I go running into trouble without looking first."

"Sounds familiar," Max admitted. "The Master always says that about me. You don't look like a fighter, though."

Daniel heaved a sigh. "I'm a scientist," he said. "We're always going places with artifacts and ruins and when I want to examine them, Jack hauls me back until he can check them out first. Sometimes he doesn't even want to check them out." He was babbling, Max realized. Better not to ask where all these ruins were, because Max had the idea they were halfway across the galaxy and his belief hadn't quite lowered its guard to accept that yet. On the other hand, he'd seen Sato's eyes glow and heard a voice come out of his mouth that didn't sound quite human. He'd seen him strap a gizmo onto his hand and throw fire out of it. Not to mention that weird little ray gun that Teal'c had pulled out when the bad guys arrived. Okay, so the Master was right about the Stargate and the Goa'uld. It took Max awhile to adjust to a reality that was suddenly upside down.

"What kind of scientist?"

"Archaeologist."

Okay, evident from the ruins and artifacts. Max muttered, "Duh," under his breath. "Alien artifacts?" he prodded.

Daniel's face became wary. "I'm an Egyptologist," he explained. Well, that was a stall. The trial lawyer Max had become wanted to do a cross examination to end all cross examinations, but this wasn't the time for it. "Think you can go on now?"

"Now or never," Daniel agreed, pushing himself upright and standing there woozily until he got his balance. "Which way?"

"Downhill," Max decided. Going up didn't have much to say for it. The road had been lower. If they could work their way down there and flag down a trucker who could give them a lift into Estes Park, they'd be home free. Well, maybe not entirely. Daniel had enough blood on him to make people suspicious. Nobody wanted to stop for trouble on the road. Well, maybe Max could flag down a trooper.

In the distance, he could hear a helicopter but it was around the shoulder of the hill, back the way they had come. He hesitated, wondering if it was help for the Master and the rest of them, but he couldn't go back there and chance it. One escaping survivalist would be all it took to snatch the box and bring about the end of civilization.

He picked up the box, making sure he had a firm grip. "Okay, Daniel, let's go. Can you make it?"

"I can go wherever you can."

Max grinned as they started down the slope. "Well, betcha you can't walk a tightrope between two high rises?"

That startled Daniel enough to snap him out of his preoccupation. "Can you?"

"He's always going on to me about how a Ninja must have perfect balance. A Ninja must be able to hide in the shadows, a Ninja controls his temper. He had me walking tightropes wrapped with a silken cord when I'd known him a week! I got a lot of bruises at first."

"But do you run around in black, kicking people?" Daniel's eyes were on the ground ahead of him so he wouldn't stumble, but he was listening.

"Well, if I did much of that, I'd probably be disbarred," he admitted. "It's kind of frowned on for attorneys to take the law into their own hands."

Daniel put out his hand to steady himself against a tree trunk. The wound in his arm wasn't really too bad, but he'd lost blood, and the shock of the injury alone had to be getting to him. "Why do I think you're not telling me everything?"

Max laughed out loud. "Why do I think you're not telling me the truth about all those ruins you investigate."

The archaeologist moved away from the tree, working his way down the steep slope with a dogged persistence that won Max's respect. "You don't have clearance to know about my work. I'm not trying to lie to you. I just can't tell you." He nearly lost his balance and found himself running about five steps before he hooked his other arm around a tree to break his impetus. His breath went out in a whoosh and he gasped sharply.

Max made his way down to him, depositing the box on the ground. "You okay?"

Daniel lifted a face that was twisted with pain. "Yes, I'm all right." It was a lie and both of them knew it was a lie, but Daniel had accepted the task of getting the box to safety. If Max hadn't been with him, he would have carried it himself. If he couldn't walk, he'd crawl. In the heart of his pain and vulnerability, a question slipped out that he would never have asked otherwise. "Do you think they're dead?"

Max had listened for shouting, the Master calling him back, but he had heard nothing. He told himself the sound of the water had blocked it, and now that they had circled the shoulder of the mountain, they were out of range. He said stanchly, "It would take more than that to kill the Master."

Daniel squinted at him through his metal-rimmed glasses. "But if the cabin blew up..."

"Who says they were in it? Sato's got these crazy abilities, and I think your Col. O'Neill is right on top of things. They saw something like that coming, they'd be out the back before you could say 'jump'. Could have been one of the trucks blowing up, too. Could Sato have done that?"

Daniel's face brightened. "The Tok'ra have abilities we don't." He must have thought he could admit that since Max had seen a demonstration already. Either that or he was in too much pain from the nasty wound in his arm to realize what he was saying. He straightened up and moved away from the tree. "It's not so steep from here. I can go on. I have to get the box back to General Hammond.

"Wish I had my cell phone," Max groaned. "Never thought I'd carry one of the things. That's for yuppies or whatever they call 'em today."

"You're a lawyer," Daniel reminded him. "They have them. You don't like yuppies?" He fumbled into his pocket and produced his own. Max snatched it and turned it on--but nothing happened. He grimaced. "Must be a dead zone here. I can't get through. We can try again later." He put it into his own pocket.

"Maybe I fell on it," Danie muttered. Could be true.

Max grinned wryly, planning to try the phone again later. "Sometimes I'm scared I'll change too much. I used to be a wild and crazy guy, got into trouble all over the country, got tossed out of bars through the windows more times than I could count. You're still young enough to think that everything's in front of you. You ask your O'Neill sometime if he doesn't wish he could go back sometimes."

Daniel winced. Okay, so he could think of a few things his friend would want to change. Everybody had them. Daniel's eyes proved he had a few of his own. He said, "Being young doesn't mean you don't have a lot of old pain, Max. My wife..." his voice trailed off and he took a determined step.

"Sorry. Guess that sounded pretty damn patronizing, didn't it? I never used to be like that." He tucked the box more comfortably under his arm and reached out with his other hand to steady Daniel as they climbed over a fallen tree. "It's just, on the surface I look like a lawyer. I look stuffy. He gestured down at his suit. "Never thought I'd be running through the woods when I got up this morning. You cold?"

Daniel hesitated, then he nodded.

Max shucked the suit jacket and passed it to Daniel. "Put that on. If nothing else, we won't be advertizing that you've been shot if we can catch a ride."

Daniel slid into it. "Teal'c's got these lightning reflexes," he said at random. "He's a good man in a fight. Sam...you don't know her; she can handle herself as well as Jack can. I saw her win a knife fight against a...well, against somebody who did it every day. She's smart, too, one of the smartest women I ever met. And Jack..." For a long time, he was silent, working his way through a patch of scrub. "When I first met Jack O'Neill, I thought he was a cold-blooded career army type without a heart. It didn't take me long to figure out that he had a heart as big as anybody's but he was...he didn't let it show because he'd been hurt so much he couldn't live with it. We sort of saved each other's lives a few times. And now..." He glanced in the direction of the cabin where he had last seen his friends. "Now there isn't anybody in the world I'd trust more than Jack O'Neill," he said.

"He's your friend," Max offered.

"He's my best friend. I can't say things like that to him. He gets on my case if I do for letting my emotions out. But he can't be dead." For a second, sheer desperation blazed out of his eyes. "They can't be dead."

Max had known the Master for fifteen years. He wanted to yell the same protest to the skies. "I think I'd know if the Master was gone," he admitted. "Once we get a little further away, I'll try out this meditation gig he taught me. I think I can tell if he is still around and maybe even reach him."

"Telepathically?" Daniel asked, intrigued. It didn't take away the fear and pain from his eyes, but it proved he could function in spite of it. He didn't appear to doubt the claim either.

"Well, he doesn't call it that. He says it's being centered, finding my chi." He thumped on his chest with his free hand. "The center of my being. Gotta say, that meditation part is the toughest. I can do the tightrope bit. Could even take out a sumo wrestler. But that inner stillness thing he does... That's harder."

"There were men who could do that on Abydos," Daniel said. "They were a sect who had practiced in secret for centuries, giving lip service to Ra because they had to, but they had inner beliefs that were different. They had some martial arts skills. Once we defeated Ra, they came out of hiding. Kasuf approved of them. He had always known. He'd have liked Skaara to be one of them..." His voice trailed off. "And you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Didn't hear a word of it," Max proclaimed with a reassuring grin.

*****

McAllister and Sato returned just as the helicopter landed, dispersing armed marines. They must have had O'Neill's picture to go on because some of them rushed to give the state troopers backup while their captain, a towheaded man with a lean face and a chin like Jay Leno's made his way over, eyeing the remains of the exploded van and the downed terrorists with a deadpan face. Only one eyebrow quirked at the sight. Looked like impressing this character might be tough.

"Col. O'Neill."

He nodded as Carter emerged from the cabin, using a walking stick she must have found inside. "One of my people was hit," he explained, nodding at her. Do you have a medic?"

The marine beckoned one over who looked green enough to be on his first mission and pointed to Carter. Carrying his kit, the man raced toward her, casting uneasy looks at the bodies of the terrorists who had not survived.

"He does know his medicine," the captain said, reading Jack's doubt without difficulty. "I'm Captain Tom Harding. We were ordered to give you backup. Looks like you handled things on your own."

"We were pursuing a classified mission when these clowns showed up. They weren't here to interfere with the mission, just to cause a lot of trouble for Mr. Ohara who lives here. I don't know whether they were playing a bigotry game--he's Asian American--or whether they just wanted someone to pick on, and he lives alone. Unfortunately for them, he and his friend McAllister, are both martial artists, and of course my team defended themselves."

"He's an alien from outer space," yelled Jenkins, probably feeling safe surrounded by state troopers.

"I think they're a little bit drunk," O'Neill confided, sharing a look of wry amusement with the Captain. "It's how they psyched themselves up to come here. Take a look at their weapons. I think they've got a major illegal stockpile."

"Where's this Ohara?" Harding asked, looking around.

"Here he is." Sato came around the corner of the cabin with McAllister at his side. "They went to look for one of my men who got separated from us at the time of the attack." He raised his voice. "Where's Daniel?"

McAllister hurried over. "They went into the creek to block their trail. I can track them but it will take time because it wasn't readily apparent which way they went. We assumed they went toward the cave that my friend Ohara told them about, planning to hide out, but they weren't there." Jack was glad he'd remembered to use Sato's current name and even more glad that the ribbon device had vanished. "My name is John Peter McAllister, USAF, retired," the old man continued. "I teach martial arts, and my pupil went with Dr. Jackson."

Jack frowned. "I'll tell you what I can but some of the mission is classified." He glanced over to make sure the terrorists weren't in hearing range. "We've located a...biological weapon. We came to take it out of here to a secure location. I'm about a hundred per cent positive the terrorists didn't know about it. Their arrival was just really crummy timing. I sent Dr. Jackson to take the weapon to safety in case the attack succeeded. We didn't want it to fall into the hands of terrorists." Let them think Daniel was trained to deal with such things. "I assume they've gone to ground up there."

"There is more," Sato put in. He turned to Harding. "I am Mike Ohara. I own and manage the Tiger Lotus Dojo in Estes Park." He pulled out his wallet and displayed his driver's license. Jack had to hide a grin at the thought of a Tok'ra with a driver's license. No, this guy wasn't the first. Jacob Carter had one, after all.

Sato and McAllister both looked pretty grim. O'Neill felt his stomach tighten. "More what?" he prodded.

"I'm sorry, Colonel, but we found traces of blood up there, this side of the creek," McAllister explained. "It's fresh. One of them was hit. We knew it couldn't be one of that lot because neither Dr. Jackson or Max had a firearm."

Teal'c, at Jack's side stiffened to alertness. "O'Neill. I will go and look for them."

"Hold on a minute, Teal'c. We'll find out what we can first," he said although his need to rush into the woods to look for Daniel was so strong it was all he could do to stay here and finish up with Harding.

"Col. O'Neill, can these men go with a civil arrest or do we need to take them in for questioning?" Harding asked. Maybe he could tell that Jack and Teal'c had become coiled springs, waiting to burst forth and rush after their missing friend.

At the question Jack frowned. One of them had witnessed Kenruku. No one would believe their claims, but who was to say that an expert might have a little trouble with Taylor's wounds. "I think we'd better haul them in," he said. "Maybe they knew about the weapon. It could be why they're here." He was pretty sure they hadn't had a clue; they might be terrorists, but they might just be an unofficial little militia, convinced they were hot stuff. But they had witnessed things they shouldn't have seen. Ordinarily Jack would have wanted to find a way to let them off the hook, but these guys had come in here armed for bear. They'd wounded Carter, tried to kill them all. Daniel might be hurt because of them. They shouldn't be running around loose. Carter would be okay, but nobody messed with O'Neill's team.

Daniel could even be dead. No, there hadn't been a body. "How much blood?" he said to the Ninja.

"Not a lot," McAllister replied. "Obviously whoever was hit was able to move. I've taught Max a lot of...biofeedback exercises. If he's hit, he'll carry on. If Daniel was hurt, Max will take care of him." He saw the captain eyeing him. "Max Keller. He's an attorney in Colorado Springs. He's also a partner in my dojo."

"This place is just crawling with martial artists," Harding muttered. "How did they all get involved?"

"Classified. Need to know. Sorry, Captain." O'Neill glanced up past the cabin at the unbroken pines that stretched upward to the great mountains that crouched there. "We've got to get people up there to look for Daniel and Keller."

"I will go," Teal'c volunteered. "I can start immediately. It is now mid-afternoon. In October, the sun will set quickly. We cannot wait much longer or I will lose the trail."

"I'll go with you," McAllister volunteered. "I'm an expert tracker."

"Teal'c?" O'Neill asked. "You trust him to go with you?"

"I do." Teal'c's voice held respect. He had been drawn to the old Ninja from the first, probably because he'd been reminded of Master Bra'tac.

"Okay, you get out there and follow that stream. Daniel probably wouldn't think to wade through the water to break his trail."

"Max would," McAllister said.

"Go," Jack urged. "I'll get a major search set up from this end and then I'll follow you." He wanted to rush off into the woods in search of Daniel but he knew he could do more good here. There were times when the burden of command was a very heavy load.

Harding went over and spoke to the head trooper, probably explaining that this had become a military operation. The trooper argued, gesticulating wildly. Harding said something that made the man pause, then finally give a grudging nod. The troopers began to clear away, leaving the terrorists to be guarded by the marines. Okay, that meant Jack couldn't use Harding's people to search for Daniel. Instead, he went over to the chopper and commandeered the radio to call General Hammond and arrange for air and ground searches. If Daniel and Keller came to light right away, he could always call them off.

Harding met him. "Captain Purcell and his men will search the immediate area for your missing man," he said, gesturing at the troopers. "You called in backup?"

Jack nodded. "They're on their way. I'll go with the state patrol." But first, he headed over to Carter, who sat on a bench in front of the cabin, her pant leg slit open about six inches above the knee. The wound was on the outside of her thigh, a long, deep gash that had bled freely but that didn't look serious. The bullet had actually only grazed her and wasn't imbedded. She'd be sore for a few days, but she had been lucky. As Jack arrived, the medic began to bandage the wound.

She looked up, controlled pain in her eyes. "What about Daniel, sir?" she asked.

"Missing. They found traces of blood up there, but it could have been Keller. Hell, it could even have been one of the terrorists. Keller had those throwing stars. We don't know it was Daniel." It seemed very important to insist on that.

Carter's face softened with sympathy, although she couldn't hold back the worry. "This isn't serious, Colonel. Once I'm bandaged, I can join in the search."

"No way, Carter. You're staying off that. The state troopers are going to help us search for him, and I've called in an air and ground search. Hammond knows what happened. I told him about the...you know what," he said with a sidelong glance at the medic. "He's pulling out all the stops. And I'm going with the troopers now. McAllister says that if Daniel is...hurt, Keller will take care of him. Don't know about you, but I'm not sure I want to leave Danny in the hands of a--lawyer." He managed a sketchy grin. "So I'm gonna go up there and bring him back. Damn it, Carter, I think he delights in giving me grey hairs." He reached up and tugged his locks. "Didn't have a one before I met him, I swear to god."

Carter gestured at her leg. "Even if he's hit it might be no worse than this, sir."

"Ya think?" Okay, he knew it reasonably, but knowing it didn't mean anything. The odds didn't matter at a time like this. Daniel--or Keller--was hit. It could be fatal. Keller might have hid them both for fear of the terrorists finding the device, but just because they were no longer at the spot where the shooting had happened didn't mean they were both alive.

He dropped a hand on Carter's shoulders and gave her a squeeze. "You hang in there. I have got to go."

"Find him, sir," she said softly.

"I will."

He turned to find Sato standing behind him. "I will wait with Major Carter," he said. "She and I have much to discuss."

Yeah, that worked. Carter probably had a closer relationship to the Tok'ra than anybody else on Earth, what with Jolinar's memories and her father. She would know what she could and couldn't say.

He turned and headed around the cabin in the direction where Daniel had vanished, falling in with the state patrol guys. Hang in there, Danny, he thought as he edged past them into the trees.

*****

"There's a house up here," Max Keller said.

Daniel lifted his head, a process that had grown more difficult with every mile they had walked. Downhill hadn't led them to a highway, but they had found what must be an old logging road, and had been hiking along it for the past half hour. Exhausted as he was, Daniel had to admit it was easier than working his way through the trees.

The other good thing about the road was that, with balance no longer quite as serious an issue, Max had fashioned a sling for him out of the remnants of his shirt. Now he hiked along at Daniel's side in just a tee shirt. It was a warm day for October, but it wouldn't stay warm once the sun went down. Already it had sunk beneath the mountaintops and the air had begun to chill.

Daniel's arm throbbed and burned and his mind was fogged. Each step took fierce concentration. Only his grim determination to get the box to safety drove him on. If he reached the point where he could not go on, he'd make Max leave him and take it to safety. He'd tried to convince Max to do that twice, but the attorney had refused. "I don't want to think of facing your Col. O'Neill if I come back without you," he insisted.

Daniel could imagine the look on Jack's face if Max showed up and said, "I came without him." The Colonel would stare at him in disbelief, anger building up to a fine and glorious rage. Then he'd realize the box had to be safe, and he'd try to stomp down the anger because the mission had to come first. But he'd still blame Keller for it.

If he were even alive...

Daniel drew an unsteady breath. Even the inhalation jarred his arm. He faltered to a stop and stared. Yes, there was a house all right, a cabin not too different from Sato's except that it was only one level. What was better was that smoke rose from the chimney and a Jeep 4-wheel drive vehicle in shocking red sat out in front.

"Didn't know they made Jeeps in that color," Max said with an arch of an amused eyebrow.

It didn't seem a color the survivalists would favor. Maybe there was help here. On the other hand, there were no power lines running into the house. They couldn't call the SGC and get pickup.

"I'll check it out," Keller decided. "Come on." He led the way into the bushes, depositing the box beside Daniel and helping him to sit on a stone. "Wait here. If I don't come back in five minutes, you'll have to circle around this place and keep going."

Daniel opened his mouth to argue, but he was too spent to find the words. He cast a reproachful look at his companion. Max shrugged. "Can't take the chance with the box," he said.

He was right. Daniel nodded once, although his head felt like someone had hung lead weights on it. He wasn't sure he had the strength to walk the last hundred yards to the cabin, even if Max would have let him. Come and find me, Jack, he thought. I know you're not dead. I know it. But he didn't know it. If Jack were alive, he'd be here. He would have caught up with them already.

He watched Max trail determinedly down the road, bracing himself for danger, and knew that only someone else who may have lost the people who matter could have gone to face the threat with such a miserable slump to his shoulders. You can't be dead, Jack. Sam, Teal'c, you're alive. But it was hard to believe it, out here alone in the wilderness.

*****

This sucked. This really, really sucked. Jack O'Neill had been walking along the stream for what felt like hours, checking for marks to show that someone had climbed out of the streambed. There had been several rocky places that wouldn't show an exit, and they'd been checking them all. If Daniel and Keller had gone downstream in the direction of the cave, they would have come out on the road already, so the odds were they'd gone the other way. Daniel may have lived a year on Abydos and been a member of SG-1 for more than two years, but he wasn't trained to hide his trail.

The search had gone slowly because it was important not to miss anything. But there had to be something to miss. Daniel hadn't vanished off the face of the earth. No matter how good at wilderness survival Keller might be--and the guy was an attorney, for crying out loud, worked out of an office--he couldn't make them disappear. A couple of the troopers were pretty good out in the scrub, knew their stuff. Okay, so if they came out of the stream on rocky ground, they'd be ultra careful when leaving it. Any wet marks they'd left would probably have dried already in this climate. Jack, who had grown up in the far more humid Chicago area still found the Colorado high desert climate a tad dry. Now he resented it. In Illinois, there'd probably still be fading wet footprints on the rocks.

"O'Neill!"

Jack's head came up and he saw a trooper beckoning to him. A shout came from behind and an armed body of marines came jogging up the hill toward them. Jack waved them over and went to see what the trooper had found.

It proved to be a footprint, a real zinger of a print, planted square in the midst of the only moist ground he could see. The only problem was, it wasn't Daniel's footprint. It looked like one of Keller's. His feet were a little bigger than Daniel's and he'd been wearing snazzy business shoes, suitable for wearing in court. Daniel had been wearing jeans and Reboks. Okay, so they'd seen the two sets of prints down there by Sato's place, and it looked like both had gone into the water, but now there was only one.

Jack raised his head and yelled, "Daniel!!!" at the top of his lungs.

The marines reached them and Jack realized it was SG-3, led by Col. Makepeace. "Hammond filled us in," he said tersely, unwilling to give away more in front of the trooper who had found the footprint. "We were...available so we got helicoptered up here. Any trace of him?"

The presence of someone else from the SGC eased the weight on Jack's shoulders. It was still incredibly heavy, but he could share a part of it with Makepeace and his men, the weight of finding the alien device, the whatzit, ken'torak. Daniel's absence was a weight he'd have to carry alone, though.

"Footprint," O'Neill said, pointing down. "Looks like the man who was with him, Keller."

"You trust this Keller?" Makepeace asked, gesturing his men to spread out and check the area for more tracks.

"I don't know him. McAllister trusts him, and Teal'c says McAllister's okay. Have to say I go along with that. So I suppose this Keller's okay, but he's not one of us." He hesitated. "Odds are Jackson's hurt. One of them is, anyway." If Daniel was dead, they'd have found him by now. He had to believe that.

"We saw Carter," Makepeace said. "Doc Frasier came with us, says Sam's gonna be fine."

So the SGC had mobilized for Daniel. Well, probably for the ken-torak, but that wouldn't need Janet Frasier. O'Neill grinned faintly.

Makepeace lowered his voice. "Any sign of the device?"

Jack shook his head. "They've got it, wherever they are. We have to think they heard the explosion when the truck blew up and thought it was us instead. They wouldn't risk coming down, not with the device to protect. Daniel would insist on getting it back safely. When we get it back to the base, he's not gonna study it. It's going...where it can be safe."

Makepeace nodded. "Hammond's already working on that," he said. "Think Keller understands how important it is?"

"I think we all pretty well know we have to put it first," Jack admitted. He didn't like that, not when he wanted to rush up into the trees and rescue Daniel--so he could yell at him for a dumb-ass stunt like disappearing. But he had to put the fate of the world before his friend, and he didn't like it. He was too good an officer not to do it, but at least Daniel and the device were together. Rescuing one meant rescuing the other. He hoped.

"Teal'c's on up ahead somewhere," he added. "We haven't heard from him. I'm willing to bet he's a better tracker than the state patrol any day of the week. But he hasn't come back." He grimaced. "None of us have communicators. Didn't think we'd need them." He wished he'd brought Sam's cell phone, although it might not work as well up here in the trees.

"Col. Makepeace," one of the men shouted.

"They found something," Makepeace said with satisfaction.

Looking up at the beckoning marine, Jack said wryly, "Ya think?" But he raced toward the man, mentally crossing his fingers.

This time there were even better footprints, a whole series of them. Better yet, there were tracks from two different shoes--and one of them was Daniel's. Jack closed his eyes in utter relief. He was alive.

A second look renewed his worry. Daniel's tracks were uneven and faltering; clearly he was getting support to walk. The proximity of the two sets of tracks suggested Keller was dragging him along. Jack's stomach tightened unpleasantly. The Jackson ulcer was about ready to kick in. No, scratch that. It had kicked in a long time ago. Dammit, Daniel... I need to teach you how to duck.

Makepeace handed him his walkie talkie. "We left one back with Carter, if you want to tell her what you've found," he urged.

Jack took it and reported back to Carter. She sounded relieved and concerned at the same time. "I'll let McAllister know," she said. "I heard from Teal'c through the troopers," she reported. "They found a road up there and are following it. They think Daniel and Max used it to make travel easier, that they're hoping to find a phone. They didn't find distinct tracks on the road, but they found some scuffmarks leading up to it."

"Then I'm coming back," Jack decided. "I can get airlifted in to the other end of the road, where it comes out on a highway." He turned to Makepeace. "Will you and your men go with the troopers in case they had to leave the device or Keller left Daniel to go for help?"

"You got it, Jack. Go on. I know the sooner you find your man the happier you'll be. We'll cover this end of it."

O'Neill gave him a casual salute in gratitude and turned to race back down the slope toward the cabin.

*****

Daniel Jackson came to consciousness at the sensation of movement. He was sitting up, an arm around his shoulders to support him, his head resting on a bony shoulder. His wounded arm ached fiercely and his head felt stuffed with clouds. When he opened his eyes, he realized he was sandwiched in between two people in a car--no, a jeep. Not military, though. It was fire engine red. "Jack?" he muttered vaguely. Jack wouldn't drive a bright red jeep. Anyway, the arm wasn't familiar. He would have known if Jack had been supporting him.

"Sorry, it's Max," came Keller's voice. "We got a ride to town. We'll hit the first phone we find and you can call your base. Callie here doesn't have a phone. Your cell phone still isn't working. I think it's down for the count."

Daniel lifted his head--it weighed more than Teal'c--and squinted to his left. Callie proved to be a grey-haired woman in jeans and a man's flannel shirt, calloused and paint-stained fingers manhandling the jeep's steering wheel with the ease of an over-the-road trucker. She didn't risk taking her eyes from the wheel. "Hi, Daniel. We met before, but you didn't pay much attention, I'm afraid. I put a new dressing on your arm. I don't think it's serious but you lost some blood. Your friend said you had a run-in with our local trouble makers. They've left me alone so far but I have to say I've been worried about them. We'll grab the nearest phone and report them."

Max obviously hadn't told her everything, and Daniel was glad. He rolled his eyes at Max and lifted a questioning eyebrow.

"I've got your box," Max said. "Braced between my feet. I told Callie you were a scientist and your equipment was valuable. We don't want to break it."

"We sure don't," Daniel confirmed. He wished he could think better. He wished he knew what had happened to Jack, Sam, and Teal'c. He and Max had been so sure the explosions meant the terrorists had firebombed the cabin. Jack was tough and he was smart; and both Sam and Teal'c could handle themselves. They were far better equipped to survive that kind of an attack than he was. Look at him; he'd been hit by accident. They had to be okay. Probably they hadn't come after him and Max right away because they'd had to mop up the terrorists. After all, they had a ninja and a Tok'ra on their side. He wanted to believe that so badly, but he wasn't sure he could. He was afraid he'd be proven wrong, and then he'd have to face losing them all over again. When he'd come back to Earth on his own after Klorel and Apophis' ships had been blown out of the sky, he'd believed, at first, that the other three were dead. It had hurt, the way that losing Sha're had hurt. They weren't just teammates, they were family. They couldn't be dead.

"Max says you both have friends in trouble," Callie said with practical sympathy. "There's a truckstop about five miles from here, not too far from where this road joins the highway. We can call the state police and the county sheriff's office from there. Then we'll get you to a doctor, young man."

"Do you live out here all alone?" Daniel asked.

"That I do. I'm an artist, and I've been painting the mountains for the past five years. No telling when I'll get the urge to move along, but I like it here." She must have sensed that Daniel's attention wasn't really focused on her, that he'd only spoken to be polite. "We aren't far from the highway; this is an old logging road. I came up here to be alone. At least it meant I had a vehicle when you needed one." She risked a quick glance at him. "How are you feeling?"

"My arm hurts," he said fretfully, then he pulled himself together. "But not as badly as before. Thanks for the first aid." He leaned forward to check on the box. Max pulled him back.

"It really is okay. I've been treating it like I was walking on eggshells."

"Thanks, Max."

"Now, what's this?" Callie said suddenly, her head jutting forward like a pointer spotting a pheasant. Her foot found the brake and the jeep slowed. Up ahead, the trees pulled back from the highway and sitting right in the middle of the intersection was a helicopter.

Daniel felt a momentary flash of panic. Were the survivalists organized enough to have air support? The minute he thought it, he dismissed it. Those guys hadn't been part of an organized militia. They were freelance, dissatisfied types hanging out on the fringes of the mountains, enjoying the erroneous belief that they were 'real men'. They couldn't have a helicopter, at least not one with military markings. Daniel stared at it in astonished disbelief. The only way a chopper could be waiting was if someone from SG-1 had called it. Maybe they weren't dead after all.

"I...think it's okay," he ventured. "I think they're on my side."

"Well, if they're not, I've got Old Betsy," Cally remarked, pointing to a shotgun that rested in a holder mounted near the glove compartment. "But I think you're right. US Military issue." She beamed. "Even if you two look like civilians."

"We are," Max said. "He just works for the military."

"Then we're in the right place." Callie speeded up again, gravel spitting out behind the tires as she swooped down to screech to a halt a mere fifteen feet from the chopper.

It must have just landed; the blades were still winding down. As the Jeep stopped, a man jumped down from the chopper and put up both hands in warning. One of the hands had an MP HK-5 in it even though he was in civvies. Jack O'Neill, unhurt and grimly determined, leaned forward, squinting through his shades to see who was in the Jeep. The lowering sun slanted down and hit the windshield, blocking his view.

Daniel all but pushed Max out of the Jeep in his urgent need to get out. "Jack!" he yelled, waving his good hand.

"DANIEL!" O'Neill was already running, tucking the gun away as he galloped across the gravel. They met close to the Jeep, and Jack grabbed him in a bearhug that was only cautious because of the sling and the obvious dressing on his arm. Daniel flung his good arm around O'Neill's neck.

"You've gotta stop scaring me like this, Space Monkey," Jack muttered in his ear.

"Me scaring you?" Daniel accused, holding on for dear life. "We thought the cabin blew up."

At that, Jack wiggled back out of the grip, both hands lingering on Daniel's shoulders. "Oh, come on, it was a truck that blew up. Couldn't you tell the difference?"

"Gee, Colonel, neither one of us ever had training in identifying explosions by the sound," Max protested with a grin. "Is McAllister okay?"

"He's fine. Not a scratch on him. Carter got kissed by a bullet, but it barely broke the skin. She's latched onto some hand-carved cane Sato had and I had to fight her to keep her from coming with me." He saw Daniel's worry and added, "It really is just a graze. Teal'c's fine, too."

Daniel heaved a vast sigh and the tension that had been too great to endure went out of him in a rush, leaving him wobbly. He didn't have to hold out any longer. His friends were safe and they could take the ken'torak back to the base. "Ja-ack," he managed to get out, and pitched forward into O'Neill's ready arms.

*****

"Okay, now, you do realize that if you ever tell anybody about this, I'll have to track you down and kill you." Jack O'Neill grinned to take the meaning out of his words.

"I'm good at secrets," McAllister said easily, his eyes busy studying the gate room. Beside him, Max Keller gaped at the gate in disbelief.

"Incoming traveler," intoned the voice of the tech in the control room overhead. "The codes match."

"Lower the iris," Hammond commanded at Jack's side, lifting his head to give the order. As they watched it dilated to expose the glowing event horizon. The open gate made even McAllister appear astonished. As for Max Keller, he frankly stared, mouth hanging open. Jack was willing to bet he never wore an expression like that in court.

Beyond him, Sato/Kenruku's eyes filled with moisture. The ancient Tok'ra said quietly, "I thought I would never see a gate activation again. Fascinating that you use your base computers and not the typical control device."

"We call that the DHD," Daniel put in with a grin. "Dial Home Device." Sam, leaning lightly on the cane, chuckled softly at his side. Teal'c lifted an eyebrow.

McAllister's mouth quirked in an attempt not to smile.

A second later Jacob Carter stepped through the gate with Martouf at his side. He was himself, not Selmak; no glowing eyes, and the voice that greeted General Hammond was his normal one. "Hello, George. I hear you found us an ally."

"Welcome, Jacob, Martouf. Yes, we did."

General Carter looked past everyone, his eyes seeking out his daughter's. "Hello, Sam."

She shoved the cane into Daniel's hand and went to embrace him.

"You've been to the wars," Jacob observed, studying her face to determine how serious the wound was. He must have been satisfied with what he saw. "A dangerous mission?" Martouf watched her, smiling when she nodded that she was all right.

"You could say that," Jack put in. "Only it wasn't out there." He waved a hand at the Gate as the field went down. "It was right here on Earth. "I'd like you to meet Sato."

"Originally Sa'tac," the martial artist said. "I came to the world of the Tauri many centuries ago, as a Jaffa."

Jacob arched an eyebrow, then a subtle change crossed his face and his eyes glowed. "Your larva grew to maturity?" Selmak asked.

Sato nodded, his eyes glowing in return. Kenruku, then. Sometimes when he was around the Tok'ra, Jack would have liked to have a score card. "A typical Goa'uld at first, but as time passed, I changed. Perhaps I would not have done so were I not stranded here but, devoid of all company but my host, I gradually changed. I knew of the Tok'ra philosophy, and in time I came to respect it. Sa'tac was my only companion, my only friend. So we came to share this body and consciousness. I do not know if you can accept one such as I, but I believe I share beliefs with the Tok'ra."

"You have been safe on Earth," Selmak remarked. "Out there, we fight a continual battle."

"It is a battle I would join willingly," Kenruku confirmed. "Over the centuries, I have chosen humans to warn of the threat the System Lords pose to this planet. Thanks to one of them, I learned that Earth had unburied its Stargate. I had hopes to return to the galaxy. If the Tok'ra will have me, I will fight at your side."

Selmak looked at him a long time, then he inclined his head. When he raised it again, Jacob Carter turned to Hammond. "We will take him with us. We will also take the ken'torak device. We can immobilize it if necessary."

Jack had a pretty good idea they might not do that. They might use it against the System Lords. Well, that was okay with him. The snakeheads deserved to have one of their nasty little gizmos turned against them.

"I just want it off Earth as soon as possible," Hammond insisted.

"We will take it now," Martouf said, accepting the box and opening the lid to peer inside and to examine the contents with his eyes.

Jacob turned to Sato. "Have you goodbyes to make?"

"Only to McAllister," Sato replied, turning to the elderly Ninja and hugging him. O'Neill wasn't sure he'd want to be hugged by a Goa'uld, even if the Tok'ra didn't consider themselves Goa'uld, but McAllister returned it.

"You're going where you belong," he assured the martial artist. "Where you can do the most good. If you ever get back to Earth, come and see me." He pressed something into the Tok'ra's hand--it looked like a business card. Great, ninjas with business cards. He'd seen everything now.

Jacob turned to Daniel. "I'm told you protected the device in spite of your own injury. That was well done, Dr. Jackson."

"I just knew I couldn't let anything happen to it," Daniel admitted. Look at him, he was almost blushing at the praise. "Besides, Max helped."

"Then thanks also to Max." Jacob shook hands with Keller before he and Kenruku walked to the foot of the ramp. Martouf lingered long enouth to exchange a smile with Carter, then he tucked the box under his arm and followed. Hammond nodded upward to activate the ga