SG1-16 Four Dragons (8 page)

“Cutting into his television time, were you?”

Hammond’s eyes narrowed in that way he had of silently telling Jack to shut the hell up.

“I’ve received orders to wait while he considers the political ramifications.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry, but as Commander-in-Chief, it falls under his purview to — ”

“The president’s a lame duck and he knows it. Elections are only a few months away. Then some other shrub will take up midnight runs to the White House kitchen’s ice cream stash.”

“Jack — ”

“This is Daniel’s life we’re talking about! Who gives a crap about politics?”

“That’s enough,” Hammond warned.

Jack sank onto a stool in disbelief. Maybe it wasn’t proper protocol with his commanding officer still standing, though at the moment, he couldn’t give a crap. Just like no one seemed to be giving a crap about saving Daniel.

The general stared briefly at him, but let it pass. “It’s been a long day, people. The president has promised an answer by oh-nine-hundred tomorrow. Go home and get some rest.”

He turned to leave and then stopped. “Colonel,” he said softly, his back still to the room.

Jack swallowed his pride and stood up. “Yes, sir?”

“You’re going to retrieve Dr. Jackson, one way or another. You can count on it.” He walked out, not waiting for a reply.

Jack turned back to his team and allies. “You heard the man. Everyone get some bunk time. Tomorrow, we’re going after Daniel… one way or another.”

STARGATE COMMAND

STATUS: STANDBY/MISSION READY

2 JUL 03/0920 HRS BASE TIME

Standing by the coffee urn in the briefing room, Jack considered pouring himself a second cup and decided against it. Too much caffeine and he’d wear out the deck of Jacob’s borrowed cargo ship by lunchtime.

That is, if they ever got their butts in gear.

They still had pre-mission med checks to suffer through, gearing up, packing ammo, briefing SG-5. SG-3 had left at oh-seven-hundred to backup SG-9 on some scheduled trade negotiation, leaving only one team available for backup. It would have to do.

Jack checked his watch, admittedly for the umpteenth time since arriving in the briefing room, only to find Hammond missing. Twenty minutes past nine. That wasn’t like the general. Especially when someone’s life was on the line.

“I am sure General Hammond’s reasons for delay have merit, O’Neill,” said Teal’c joining him by the coffee table.

“What, so now you’re giving me the pep talks?” Jack asked with a smile. The room was too sullen, too tense. He needed to do something to lighten things up. “You don’t fool me. You only came over to grab another donut.”

“Two,” said Teal’c. He grabbed a powdered donut in each hand. “Master Bra’tac has yet to experience this particular Tau’ri food.”

“Cake and now donuts?” Jack whispered conspiratorially. “Frasier would have a conniption if she knew what we were doing to the old man’s arteries.”

“At a hundred and thirty-nine years,” Bra’tac said, sitting at the table behind them, “I believe I am able to judge what food serves me and what does not.”

Jack looked over at Jacob and Carter at the other end of the table. Father and daughter had matching frowns, but neither of them had coffee or donuts. Forgetting to eat seemed to run in the family. “What about you, Jacob? All that time with the Tok’ra… I bet you miss the good old foods of home.”

Jacob waved him off. “No thanks, Jack.”

Carter attempted to smile though it never did reach her eyes. “Selmak doesn’t like fried food.”

“It’s not that Selmak doesn’t like fried food,” Jacob insisted. “He doesn’t like sugar.”

Spotting a couple of plain ones, Jack picked them up. He made a show of inhaling their crispy goodness deeply. “I bet he’d like these.”

Jacob pressed his lips together. Clearly not a taker. Hoping to get Carter to eat something, or at least lighten things up, Jack began juggling the donuts. “Come on, Major. What’s a bit of junk food amongst friends?”

He tossed them higher, the fried bits of dough sailing in the air with the greatest of ease. Finally, Carter smiled. To kill time, Jack grabbed another one and went for three.

He heard heavy footsteps come up the stairwell to his left. Maybe Hammond would like one. Jack turned, still juggling the donuts.

The general wasn’t alone. Nor was he in his standard short-sleeved Aviator shirt. In full dress kit, Hammond stepped off the landing with a scowl in Jack’s direction and silently headed for his seat at the head of the table.

Jack dropped the donuts into the box. He turned back around just as Major Paul Davis — also in dress blues — escorted an older, well-dressed Chinese man into the room. Close-cropped black hair peppered with silver, a square jaw covered in a grey-streaked goatee, high forehead; he couldn’t be more than five foot eight or nine, but the man carried himself like he was a lot taller. His eyes were unusual, for a Chinese man at any rate. Pitch black pupils edged with green flecks gave him a bit of unearthly look. The cut of his black wool suit did little to hide a decent amount of muscle for someone who couldn’t be less than seventy or so.

The man shook his head as he passed Jack, but wouldn’t make eye contact.

Jack would never trust someone who wouldn’t look him in the eye.

Davis ushered the man to a seat. The major was a Pentagon lackey if ever there was one, though even Jack had to admit he was a decent one. Davis had done a fair amount to get the Washington suits to support the S.G.C., and Hammond seemed to like the guy, although given how grim the general appeared at the moment, hands folded on the table, eyes forward, teeth clenched…

Clearly, something troubled their commander.

Not knowing the lay of the land, Bra’tac bowed his head in greeting while Jacob and Teal’c put on their best poker faces. Though Carter offered up a smile, it didn’t reach her eyes. If Jack didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn he’d seen her suppress a shudder. Something about this newcomer troubled her.

What that was remained to be seen. Wiping the stickiness from his hands, Jack approached the table. “Davis, you want to introduce us?”

“Colonel, this is China’s new delegate to the UN Security Council. Ambassador Huang,” Davis gestured toward Jack, “this is Colonel O’Neill, commanding officer of the Stargate Program’s front line unit, SG-1.”

“I know who he is,” said Huang. “I’ve read your files.”

“Excuse me,” said Jacob. “How is that possible? George?”

Hammond sighed. “A few months ago, the president decided it would be prudent to share the Stargate’s existence with the council. At that time, the program was disclosed to Ambassador Huang’s predecessor.”

Jacob raised an eye at Jack. “You knew about this?”

Jack shrugged. What could he say? He still maintained it was a bad idea. The U.S. Air Force was doing fine on its own; it didn’t need others mucking about in their business.

Hammond explained the situation to Jacob. “The president believes a shared taskforce might do a better job of protecting Earth from pending threats such as the Goa’uld — ”

“An admittance that was long overdue,” said Huang.

Jack watched Hammond work his jaw. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one who got a stiff neck when politicians stuck their fingers where they didn’t belong.

Davis stepped in. “The president has briefed the ambassador on your mission to rescue Dr. Jackson from Lord Yu — ”

Huang raised a hand. “The great Yu Huang Shang-Ti was… is China’s first emperor. Refer to him as such or you insult my country.”

Jack sunk into a chair across from the ambassador. Forget the donuts, this guy was a fruitcake.

“Fine then, Emperor Yu it is,” he said. “What’s this got to do with our mission? I don’t mean to cut you off, but a member of my team’s life is at stake. A man who’s played a large part in saving this world a few times over.”

The ambassador opened his mouth, but Jack wasn’t finished. “Your slimy, overdressed, boom-box voiced, snake-in-the-head Emperor Yu has Dr. Jackson. Time’s a-wasting, Ambassador. We need to rescue him before there’s nothing left to rescue.”

Huang splayed his hands on the table and leaned forward, his cold, black eyes looking back at Jack for the first time. “No one is stopping you from recovering your man, Colonel.”

Jack sat back, relieved. “All right, then… what? Why are you here?”

“To warn you,” Huang said flatly. “If Emperor Yu or his subjects are harmed in any way during your rescue, China will disclose the Stargate Program to its people. There are to be no weapons used of any kind.”

Chapter Four

The ambassador’s demands were met with heavy silence in the briefing room. Though Sam had always prided herself on keeping a neutral face when needed, being told international politics were more important than Daniel’s rescue was too much. The only way to keep her cool was to focus on the table in front of her.

The silence stretched out from moments to seconds to —

A pencil snapped in half.

“What, are you nuts?” the colonel demanded.

“China will not be ignored,” replied Huang.

Sam looked up as Teal’c and Bra’tac traded glances. The two kept their cool. They knew better than to get mixed up in Earth politics. Her father, on the other hand, either didn’t know better or didn’t care. “Sending SG-1 into enemy territory without proper defenses would be a suicide run. Yu’s fortress is teeming with enemy combatants.”

“With serious firepower,” added Colonel O’Neill shaking his head. “This is insane.”

Ambassador Huang stood up from his chair. “I will not be insulted by your officers, General Hammond.”

Sam painfully realized that if Daniel had been there, he could have reasoned with the ambassador. Make him see sense. A quick look at the empty chair to Colonel O’Neill’s right drove home the fact that Daniel was gone. And he needed their help. But was the president willing to pay the price?

Revealing the existence of the Stargate would change the world — in entirely unpredictable, and potentially dangerous ways.

Sam rose from her chair to face Huang. “Sir, with all due respect, attempting this mission without weapons is — ”

“Please sit down, Ambassador,” General Hammond cut in. “I’m sure we can come to some sort of compromise.”

“Compromise!” Colonel O’Neill’s face darkened, his teeth bared. “For crying out loud, does China want us dead?”

“That’s enough, Colonel,” ordered the general. “The president has made his position clear on this situation. In the interest of national,” he then nodded toward the ambassador, “and international security, we’re expected to demonstrate full cooperation with the Chinese government.”

Demonstrate.

It wasn’t like the ambassador would be following them through the gate. All they had to do was appear to cooperate.

Sam glanced down at the colonel. A minute nod, a fast blink. He’d heard it, too.

Colonel O’Neill rose from his chair, a mask of contrition settling over his brow. “My comments were inappropriate, Ambassador. I apologize.”

With a grunt, Huang took his chair. Paul Davis gave Sam a curt, but thankful nod as the room took a collective sigh.

“SG-1 and SG-5 will depart to recover Dr. Jackson within the next hour,” said General Hammond.

“We should be able to report back their success to you within forty-eight hours,” Davis added.

Huang chuckled, the sound out of place and very inappropriate.

The colonel leaned in. “Something funny?”

“You must think I am some simple peasant, easily blinded by empty words.”

“No one here has made such a claim,” Teal’c said.

“Nonetheless, the president’s orders are clear.” Huang insisted. “You must
demonstrate
compliance with China’s demands.”

“And we intend to follow those orders to the letter,” assured General Hammond.

“Yes, you will.” Huang stuck a hand into a jacket pocket. “To ensure SG-1 follows China’s request, I will monitor your mission from Stargate Command.”

“Impossible,” said Bra’tac. “The Tau’ri have no such technology.”

“There are other means,” the ambassador said, pulling out a small box lined with dull metal. Lead, Sam realized.

Her neck prickled again. Just like when Huang first came into the room.

The ambassador opened the box. Inside, two fist-sized silvery Goa’uld communication balls shimmered under the room’s fluorescents.

Now Sam knew why she’d experienced such odd sensations since the ambassador’s arrival. The naquadah in her blood must have triggered a response. Lead did a good job shielding the mineral, but some leakage was inevitable.

Enough leakage to make her know the ambassador wasn’t quite playing by any normal rules of diplomacy.

“Airman, arrest this man!”

As an SF stepped forward, his pistol at the ready, the colonel’s hand shot out toward the box. Huang blocked him with a remarkably swift swipe of his arm. For an old man, the ambassador was stronger and faster than expected.

“Remove yourself, Colonel,” warned Huang. “These alien devices are the rightful possession of China.”

“Those devices are long range Goa’uld communicators,” her father interjected, “and aren’t secure by any means. Even the Tok’ra won’t use them.”

“Nonetheless, they are the property of China in accordance with international salvage rights.”

“At least shut the damn box,” Colonel O’Neill said.

“I think you’d better explain where you got those,” General Hammond said.

Huang casually flipped the lid close. “Several months ago, a Chinese submarine retrieved these devices from the Pacific Ocean floor shortly after a massive explosion took place some 1500 miles southwest of Alaska.”

“The devices must have survived the destruction of Anubis’ mothership,” Teal’c said.

Sam shivered, remembering how she and the colonel had almost drowned when trying to get off the sunken ship.

“Thanks to the release of your mission reports to the U.N. Security Council, our scientists determined the devices’ purpose.”

Colonel O’Neill snorted. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but only the Goa’uld can operate those.” He turned toward the general. “Sir, Maybourne used these when he ran the NID’s little off-world operation. They had to jam a bunch of wires into the thing to get it to work. Since Jacob can’t join us — ”

Huang cut the colonel off. “Major Carter and the Jaffa have the necessary biochemistry. They can transmit the mission’s progress.”

The general looked toward the Jaffa. “You’re both on tretonin now. Can you still operate this device as the ambassador claims?”

* * *

Teal’c hesitated before answering General Hammond’s question. They must rescue Daniel Jackson, and soon, before Lord Yu killed their friend… or worse. The use of unsecured transmissions would hazard their efforts. A lack of weapons would make those efforts near foolhardy.

Cunning would be required, and Tau’ri weapons vital to the mission’s success. Though the Jaffa rebel had come to pride himself on his honesty during his time amongst the Tau’ri, his loyalty to his friends surpassed his pride. Even if, in hiding the truth, his eternal path to redemption would never be met.

But for Bra’tac, honor and honesty were one and the same. “Indeed, General Hammond — ”

“Bra’tac,” pleaded O’Neill.

“According to Dr. Frasier, we retain a certain level of naquadah — whether we carry the symbiote or not.” Teal’c searched O’Neill’s face for forgiveness, but saw only darkness and stilled anger.

“Then the matter is settled.” Huang sank back in his chair. “How soon will you leave? I am eager to see the home-world of our first Emperor.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” said O’Neill.

“The matter is not open to discussion,” said the ambassador. “This is the only way you will be permitted to visit Emperor Yu’s homeworld.”

Bile rose in Teal’c’s throat. His fists clenched on the table. He prepared himself to blast this small man who cared not for Daniel Jackson’s safety. “Lord Yu never was your emperor. He is nothing more than a parasite masquerading as a false god.”

“With all due respect, Ambassador,” Major Carter said, “the Goa’uld use Earth mythology to instill fear in the people they took through the gate. Millions of humans are under their control, across the galaxy. These people are slaves; many of them tortured or forced to work in mines without rest.”

“Maybe you’d like to come along,” O’Neill added. “Meet good old Yu yourself.” He looked the ambassador up and down. “I think you’d make a fine host for one of Yu’s minions.”

Teal’c lent his voice to the argument. “Shall I order the quartermaster to prepare for a fifth member of our mission, O’Neill?”

But Ambassador Huang remained implacable, his fingers steepled before him in quiet contemplation. Teal’c studied his face, noting the square jaw, the intense black eyes with odd specks of green. There was something familiar beneath the wrinkles, the beard and graying hair, which merited further thought.

The ambassador dropped one hand to the box containing the communication devices. “Tell me, Colonel O’Neill. Do you believe yourself a patriot?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“If you’d been informed that your founding fathers were these Goa’uld, would you still feel the same way?”

“Oh, please.”

“Have you never considered the possibility?”

“It’s not the same thing!”

“I disagree. If evidence was found that George Washington had been a Goa’uld, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“And I suppose you have evidence linking your precious Emperor Yu to a snake?”

“I do,” said the ambassador, his lips stretched wide in a cold grin. He unbuttoned his jacket, revealing a simple white shirt and black tie. A green tie pin secured the tie in place.

Teal’c studied the pin closely. The material seemed similar to that of the jade pendants Jacob Carter had given them. A symbol was carved in the pin’s center, no larger than a thumbnail.

O’Neill held out a palm. “Let’s see your proof.”

“Faith is my proof, Colonel. For it is written in Sun Tzu’s ‘Art of War’ that faith is a cardinal virtue.”

As O’Neill scowled at the ambassador’s affirmation, Teal’c scrutinized the tie pin’s symbol more closely. The sigil was not of an ancient Chinese deity. Of this, Teal’c could be certain.

It was the symbol of Lord Yu, the Goa’uld.

* * *

Unable to stand, unable to sit, Daniel hung from handcuffs latched to the top and side of a barely four-foot high cage. He tried to shift his weight, crouching in an awkward position that did little to stop the aches in his shoulders and thighs.

He’d heard about cages like this one. Communist China allegedly used them to torture political prisoners. After a few days, the victim’s legs would become swollen. In severe cases, necrosis can happen to feet, ankles and legs. Usually, the cages were set outdoors, exposing the prisoner to the elements.

In Daniel’s case, the cage was set just outside the door to Yu’s throne room.

So much for scoping out an escape route.

He closed his eyes, exhausted. Other than a short nap in a cell on Yu’s mothership, he hadn’t slept in…

Daniel wasn’t sure how long it’d been. More importantly, he had no idea if Jack, Sam or Teal’c had any idea where he was.

Jack.

Daniel still couldn’t figure out what had set him off like that. It was as if the older man was angry at Daniel for coming back to life.

Which was ridiculous.

Something clanked overhead and suddenly Daniel was able to drop his right arm down. He opened his eyes. Oshu, Yu’s First Prime, released his other arm from the cage’s side.

“You must not antagonize Lord Yu,” Oshu said.

Daniel dropped to the ground. His legs throbbed. His shoulders ached. Pins and needles shot through his hands from lack of use. He rubbed them together.

“You are fortunate my lord did not order the use of
Tean Zu
.”

“That would be worse?”

“It is a relatively simple and yet painful torture, where your fingers are laid on a flat surface. Under your fingers are placed wooden sticks connected by strings. The strings are then tightened incrementally — ”

“Crushing the fingers,” Daniel finished. He got the picture.

“On your honor, do you swear to not anger my Lord any further? Do not question him or his actions or you will find yourself in far worse circumstances.”

Daniel held up his arms, ignoring the pain in his armpits. “I surrender.”

Apparently satisfied, the First Prime opened the cage and assisted Daniel out. On rubbery legs, Daniel raised himself up to a full standing position and arched his back in a stretch.

“If you can walk, I will return you now to my master.”

His throat dry, Daniel saved his breath. He dipped his head in agreement. At Oshu’s lead, he stumbled past the cage and they headed toward the geometrically carved wood doors at the end of the corridor.

“In your time on Earth, did you visit modern China?”

“Err… once. My old roommate did his doctoral thesis on the Shang dynasty. He dragged me along to a dig right outside An-yang.”

“What is a ‘Shang Dynasty’?”

Daniel pushed his glasses up. “Ah… well… Let me see. The Shang dynasty. I’m pretty sure it was the second dynasty — after the Xia dynasty, that is. Roughly three thousand years ago, give or take. Some rebel leader who overthrew the last Xia ruler started it. Sorry, Ancient China isn’t really my area of focus.”

Oshu knocked twice on the doors and then placed his ear up against the wall. After a moment, he nodded. Opening the doors, he asked, “What dynasty now rules in China?”

“There really isn’t a dynasty anymore.”

They stepped into the throne room. No surprise, Yu sat at the Go — or rather,
Wéiqí
— board, a hand toying with the lacquered bowl of black stones. The game pieces on the board were exactly as they had been when Daniel was dragged away hours ago.

Oshu ushered Daniel inside the room, his questions ongoing. “Who rules China if there is no dynasty? And what of their warriors? Do they — ”

“
Sun Tzu! Kegalo,
” Yu shouted. Silence.

The First Prime pressed his lips together and bowed.

“Your questions have no meaning here,” Yu stated. Daniel couldn’t see the harm — or the security risk — in telling Oshu about modern China. In fact, he’d hoped to connect with the First Prime, knowing that Teal’c had spoken of how he hoped one day to convince the Jaffa to rebel against Yu.

But why had Yu called Oshu by the name Sun Tzu? That seemed odd, out of place on a planet light years from home.