The Briar Patch

by Corby

"This is a health kick, right?" Jack queried. He eyed the general with barely disguised concern as Hammond panted into place beside him.

"Why - do you - say that?" Hammond puffed. Jack took one look at the sheen of sweat on his superior's face and decided that he had vastly over-rated the effect of his own charm when it came to delivering derogatory one-liners.

"Er - no reason. So - we're here for the view?" He waved an arm at the magnificent vista that surrounded them. From the back of Cheyenne Mountain the view was hard-won but superb. Hammond leant his hands on his knees and reached to wipe his face.

"We're here, Colonel, because I had lunch with the President yesterday."

"Of course you did, sir." Jack smiled and nodded, even as George's glower darkened.

"He had a thing or two to say about Doctor Jackson and the NID."

"He had what?" Jack's attention was well and truly caught. "Ah, we don't like using 'Daniel' and 'NID' in the same sentence, sir."

"Hell, I know that. Why do you think we're up in this godforsaken spot?" At Jack's expression, Hammond blew out his scant breath. "I had my office swept this morning, Colonel."

"Cleanliness is next to godli - "

"For bugs, Jack."

Jack stilled. "I take it you -?"

"Found one, yes. An outcome that was strongly hinted at by the President."

"He knew?" Jack's expression revealed his distaste.

"NID are bugging us, Jack."

"They've bugged me for years," Jack muttered, until he noticed Hammond's frosty eye. "So what do they want with Daniel?"

Hammond shook his head. "They want to get Doctor Jackson out to Area 51."

"Nobody 'gets' Daniel. You catch him. Like a virus."

"Colonel - "

"Nasty, itching, stubborn dose of Jacksonitis…"

"Colonel!"

"I'm sorry, sir, but doesn't this all seem kind of amateur hour? The President knows, you've found their bug - what the hell are they trying to prove? How not to out-manoeuvre the enemy?"

"Perhaps," agreed Hammond. "But their agenda is one that I don't like."

"Getting Daniel? There's no way." Jack paused, his vague annoyance slipping towards genuine concern. "The senate committee knows what Daniel means to SG 1. What he's achieved by being on a first contact team. Now I know the NID guys would love to have him too, but short of cloning him, it's not going to happen."

"Are you sure of that, Colonel?" Hammond challenged him. "Because frankly, I'm not."

"Sir?"

Hammond turned to survey the peaks surrounding them, letting his rasping breath settle as he gathered his thoughts. "Jack, this is a new administration. There are new players in place. And there are two in particular who may well be willing to settle old grudges to cement their positions. Never underestimate the deal-making instincts of the American politician with a skeleton in his closet."

Jack felt he was perilously close to gaping at his superior. "Are you seriously saying that those NID clowns could requisition Daniel and get away with it?"

"Yes, Jack, I'm seriously saying just that. This program doesn't have the same sort of backing we used to have."

"That was backing? That whole…" Jack waved his hands to illustrate his point, "thing with Kinsey - that was backing?"

"In comparison - yes."

"Sonofabitch. Sir." Jack shook his head. "When these guys say 'I'll watch your back', they mean they're looking for a place to bury the knife."

Hammond chuckled, but it was black humour. "I daresay you're right. But what I'm concerned about now is keeping Doctor Jackson where he belongs."

"Amen to that, sir. You know who we're dealing with?"

George reached into his back trouser pocket and pulled out a photocopied piece of paper. "We can expect this - gentleman - to land on our doorstep at 0800 hours tomorrow. He's here for a personnel assessment survey, backed by the senate committee, and reporting directly to Senator Marriott - who also happens to have the NID directorship in his pocket."

"So - " Jack grimaced. "He proposes, and the Senator disposes."

"That's the idea." Hammond gave him a shrewd look. "This is personal, Jack. They don't give a good goddamn about what Daniel could do in Area 51. They do want to hurt SG1 in general, and you in particular."

"Nice to be noticed," snapped Jack. "So what do we do? I could prepare a report detailing Daniel's achievements with the team, sir, and Carter could add the dancing showgirls and fireworks on the program. And we could always get Teal'c to hover as they reviewed it. He's got a way of looming with menaces that could make Rush Limbaugh turn Democrat - if you know what I mean."

Hammond grinned. "I don't think that will be necessary. And I'm thinking of approaching this kicking mule from another direction. Tell me, Colonel, did you ever read the Uncle Remus stories as a child?"

"You mean Brer Rabbit?"

"Born and bred in a briar patch," George agreed. His eyes twinkled with mischief. "The last thing we want to do is convince NID how much we want to keep Doctor Jackson. Jack - how are your acting skills…?"

"My papers, sir." The man stood at ramrod attention as Hammond scanned the sheet before him. "As you can see, I've been given Section 19 orders to complete this personnel survey."

"Major Andrews, at ease. I can read, son. What do you need from me?"

"Your full and complete cooperation." Andrews sent Jack a distinctly unsubtle look as he emphasised 'complete'. "I have orders to assess each individual's level of efficiency within the Stargate program, beginning with all field personnel and extending to the lowliest of cleaners."

"The lowliest, huh?" Jack murmured.

"That's right. Sir," snapped Andrews. Hammond waved his hand.

"You'll have everything you need, Andrews. I'm glad to see the Pentagon is continuing to keep a close eye on this facility. No one is above scrutiny in the US airforce."

"Thank you, sir. With your permission?"

Hammond nodded his head. "Dismissed."

Andrews gave a crisp salute and left the office. Jack waited until the man had cleared the anteroom then gave a muted, gleeful, "Yessss."

"Colonel? Care to tell me what's on your mind?"

"This could be our chance, sir. This could be our ticket out of Jacksonville."

Hammond frowned. "I appreciate the difficulties you've had with Doctor Jackson over the years, Colonel, and your restraint in not delivering the kind of reports that would have sent him packing, but - "

"Sir, I had Carter in my office three months ago threatening resignation if we didn't get rid of him." Jack brought his hands up in acute frustration. "Do you have any idea how much he undermines her and her work? It's just a constant - nagging, sir."

"I know, Jack, I know," Hammond soothed, but Jack was having none of it.

"With all due respect sir, no, you don't. The guy could irritate for the US at the Annoying Olympics, and that's on a good day. Now, I know what he's done for the program, and I don't want to see him gone. He knows more sh - er, stuff about these Goulds than anyone else on this planet, save Teal'c, and we'd be damned idiotic to lose that. But if he stays on my team much longer, I don't know how I'm gonna keep Teal'c or Carter from strangling him."

"You rate your powers of self-control higher than theirs, Colonel?" Hammond chided gently.

Jack blew out his breath. "I'm his CO. I'll get him back in one piece. But I don't know how much longer I'll be able to say that about my team."

Hammond narrowed his eyes. "You're serious about this?"

"Yes, sir. I am."

"Then why the Sam Hill didn't you tell me about it?"

Jack shook his head then looked down at his hands, considering. "Sir, for the first couple of years, he had that whole 'gotta find Sha're' thing happening. How was I supposed to kick him off the team when that was what was keeping him sane? But now - now it's like his mission in life is to defy me, argue with Sam, and irritate the hell out of Teal'c."

Hammond looked surprised at that. "Teal'c gets irritated?"

"Oh, yeah." Jack raised haunted eyes to his CO. "It's - not pretty, sir."

The general gave an involuntary shudder. "I can imagine."

The two men sat in silence for a minute, until Hammond sighed.

"Jack, I sympathise. God knows that boy can get under my skin quicker and nastier than a cattle tick. The number of times I've wanted to grab him by the collar and britches and just throw him out of my office…" O'Neill nodded. "But this is a personnel survey, not a witch hunt. I can't dictate what Andrews will find and neither can you."

Jack stood up, agitated. "Then why don't we tell him the truth? Why don't you show him all those complaints you've received over the years?" Hammond started guiltily, and Jack nodded. "I know you've got a pile of them, sir. Complaints from people like Doctor Fraiser. From Major Davis. Hell, from anyone he's rubbed shoulders with over the last three years. I know you've sat on them because of the fact he's in SG1 and he's done some good work out there. But General, he hasn't done anything that someone else couldn't have done."

"I thought you said he 'knew more stuff than anyone else on the planet'?"

"Except for Teal'c. General, we've got our expert. We don't need another one. Leave Boonie Boy on the base where he can argue and snipe and sulk to his heart's content. Give me a fourth I can depend on. One I don't want to goddam shoot every hour on the hour."

Hammond leant back in his chair. "Are you serious, Colonel? This is really what you want?"

Jack stood in front of him as if at attention. "Sir, it's not just what I want. It's what my team needs. We have got to get Daniel out of SG1, any way we can. If we could - steer Andrews, sir, in the right direction…"

"I'm not compromising a personnel survey for your convenience, Colonel."

"No sir." Jack's tone was bland. "But I'd hate it if you didn't give the man all the facts, sir. All of them."

"I see." Hammond shook his head slightly. "Well, Jack, I'll admit it. You had me fooled. I thought you and Doctor Jackson had developed some kind of rapport over the years. Maybe even friendship. I didn't realise things were this bad between you."

Jack shrugged. "You're talking about a guy who couldn't take a hint if you shoved it up his - if you gift wrapped it, sir."

"Very well." Hammond stood too, and gave the colonel a stern look. "I'll see that Major Andrews gets all the necessary information. Perhaps it would be best if you briefed Major Carter and Teal'c to be equally forthcoming when interviewed. Thank you for your candour, Colonel."

"Yes sir." Jack turned to go, but paused at the door. "Sir, if this goes right - there'll be a hell of a celebration due. My place, Saturday?"

"Colonel, if this goes right, I'll bring the beer and the ribs." Hammond nodded his head significantly, and Jack gave a wolfish grin in return. "Genuine Southern style, straight from the Briar Patch."

"As you can see, sir, my report is finished." Andrews stood at attention before Hammond's desk after depositing a thick folder on the top.

"That's remarkably quick work, Major," Hammond commented as he picked up the folder and riffled through it. "All this in just five days? I'm impressed."

"Thank you, sir."

A knock sounded on the doorjamb behind them, and Jack O'Neill poked his head around it. Hammond waved him through.

"Come in, Colonel. Major Andrews has just presented his report."

Jack strolled in with his hands in his pockets. "Already? Well, well. Must have found everything in first rate shape, eh Major? Even amongst the lowliest."

Andrews' face tightened. "I made several recommendations, Colonel. But yes - generally speaking, the base is run in excellent fashion."

"Care to highlight those recommendations for me, Major?" Hammond asked pleasantly.

"All recommendations are summarised and placed at the front of the folder in bold type, sir. Nothing of great importance, though I do believe a review of weapons retrieval procedures is warranted."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "And the field teams, Major… any ideas in that direction?"

Neither man needed to imagine the sneer that flitted across Andrews' face. It was all too apparent how much he had enjoyed his task. "Well, now that you mention it… no. I found the field teams to be well-balanced and well lead. There are a few minor adjustments I'd like to see, but the general can inform you of those."

"What?" It was an involuntary cry, and the smirk on Andrews' lips widened before being ruthlessly crushed. Colonel O'Neill was not a happy man. "General, did you show the major 'everything'?"

"Are you referring to the complaints about Doctor Jackson, Colonel O'Neill?" Andrews asked in a mild tone. "Yes, I saw them. I also listened to the verbal complaints from your other team members. Frankly, I'm of the belief that Doctor Jackson fulfils a vital role in the psychological make-up of your team. His presence ensures that all team members perform to the best of their abilities, if just to stay one step ahead of the, I believe you termed it, 'nagging'."

Jack frowned. "I never told you he nagged."

He could see Hammond's eyes twinkle briefly before the general ducked his head.

Andrews blinked. "Ah. I could have sworn… Perhaps I was mistaken."

"Perhaps," Hammond growled, and the major swallowed. "Whatever the terminology used, what the colonel is trying to say is he's disappointed that you did not see fit to recommend a more combat ready officer in Doctor Jackson's place. I believe both he and myself made our wishes quite clear in that regard."

"With all respect, General, if you wish to remove Jackson from the program, why have you not done so yourself?"

Hammond opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Jack leapt to his defence.

"It's the eyes," he blurted.

"Eyes, Colonel?"

"Daniel's got these big, puppy dog eyes… " Jack's explanation trailed off, and he shrugged at the general.

Andrews frowned in polite annoyance. "I see. Well, sirs, my recommendations are there. If you wish to discuss them further, you will need to take it up with my superiors."

"Thank you, Major." Hammond rose, and held out his hand. "You've been most efficient in the performance of your duties. I'll be sure to let your superiors know."

Andrews nodded, saluted, and left.

"Don't throw me in that briar patch," Jack muttered, grinning and raising his fists in a silent salute of celebration. Hammond's mouth was twisting with equal delight. He bent down and retrieved something from his desk drawer.

"For you, Colonel." He handed the tiny gold object to Jack, who gave a barked laugh when he saw what it was. A toy Oscar. "Colonel O'Neill, I'm just glad as the day is long that you're on our side."

Daniel Jackson turned the tiny bronze object over in his palm, carefully noting the scrolled decoration. It had been found on a planet with a chiefly Egyptian culture, but the scrollwork looked more truly Celtic in origin. It was intriguing, and for Daniel these were the moments when his intellect most truly soared. When he could concentrate with Zen-like intensity upon an artefact from the past, willing it to give him answers, narrowing his focus until the universe existed in the palm of his hand, excluding all distractions of life outside the compass of his vision…

Ignoring the telephone as it chirped at his elbow.

"Dammit!" With a groan he put the artefact down and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"It's me."

Sigh. Jack never announced his actual name. Heaven forbid the lucky recipient of his call didn't recognise his voice at once.

"Yes, Jack. What can I do for you?"

"Tomorrow night. My place. Barbecue. Celebration."

"Celebration?" Daniel frowned, trying frantically to remember if it was Thanksgiving or July the Fourth or bloody Bastille Day. He was terrible at remembering holidays.

"Big celebration. Huge. Golden day for the SGC. And you have to be there."

"Well, Jack, I'd like to, but it depends on whether I get this work finished for - "

"Nope." The voice was abrupt, and Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. And slight irritation. That was very close to Jack's command voice. He was being commanded to attend a barbecue? "You have to come. It's kinda about you."

"Me? What have I done that needs - "

"Nope. Not saying any more. But you have to be there, Daniel."

"Okay." There were some battles just not worth fighting, and Daniel had gradually come to recognise them where Jack was concerned. "What do I bring?"

"Yourself. Oh, and some of those meat things you brought last time."

Meat things?

"Jack, what - "

"Oops, gotta go. Tomorrow night. Six p.m. Don't be late or Fraiser will have you catheterised quicker'n you can say Small but Scary."

"Ja - "

The line went dead, and Daniel replaced the receiver with the sort of bewildered patience with which he met most of Jack's weirder moments. Meat things? Maybe Jack meant the khaffiyah balls he'd made one time - or the shish kebabs. Or the lobahs.

Maybe he'd just bring hamburger mince and they could fry up burgers.

With another sigh, Daniel brought the bronze artefact up to his face and tried to regain the zone of concentration he'd achieved before the call. He'd just noticed that the scrolls ended with a faint upward hook, very similar to the inflections found on the Battersea shield, when a peremptory knock interrupted him yet again.

He looked up. That personnel guy was standing before him, a faintly unpleasant smile upon his face. Daniel had answered his questions with as much honesty as he could, but in truth he'd put the man out of his head the moment he'd left his office. He did recall hearing that the survey was completed, so he wondered why the major was now standing in front of him. What was his name? Major Antony? Android? Aardvark?

"Er - yes? Can I help you?"

"No, no, Doctor Jackson. Just dropped by to say my farewells. I've finished the personnel survey."

'My work here is done,' thought Daniel mischievously. He nodded. "Well, it was… um, to meet you…"

"Yes. I'm sure." The man smiled. "I have something for you." The major dug in his pocket and pulled out a small cassette tape. Daniel automatically held out his hand, and the tape dropped into it. The sound as it smacked into his palm was a hollow clatter. "You know, Doctor, it's something I really think you should hear."

Go to the sequel, Beneath the Briars

Feel free to contact the author... e-mail to: thepossum_au@yahoo.com.au

Return Home

Within the context and limitations of the site Disclaimer, Any and All original characters, situations, story line, dialogue and narrative © November 1, 2001, the author