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*~ To fly in space is to see the reality of Earth, alone. The experience changed my life and my attitude toward life itself. I am one of the lucky ones. ~ Roberta Bondar*
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Spencer had tried to mostly ignore the uniformed men and women around him as he and Daniel hopped from one short military flight to another. They zigzagged across the country, but always at least vaguely westward from their starting point in Washington DC.
He kind of missed the convenience and comfort of the BAU jet. If nothing else, the privacy was safer for a zed like himself. He was dual-gendered and all too used to bigotry and discrimination from random strangers because of the revealing ‘Z’ brand on the inside of his right wrist. And with the media blitz still going on over his Arkansas misadventure, *everyone* knew *exactly* who and what he was. *THAT* zed, FBI agent, the guy who broke open the Arkansas zed murder cases. Almost a hundred bodies had now been found in and around the town of Sulfur Springs, not all of them zed, and far too many of them children. In the course of the investigation, he had been attacked and raped by one of the unsubs he identified… all caught on surveillance tapes, and made available to the media press for the viewing public’s pleasure. It was a well-known fact that the alpha members of military and law enforcement organizations were especially hard on any zeds who crossed their paths. So he had been nervous about this plan to hitch rides on military transports.
Oddly enough, though, even surrounded by military who obviously recognized him, he felt safe enough at Daniel’s side. For an academic and civilian, Daniel had an air of military toughness about him when he wanted, a take-no-prisoners, don’t-give-me-a-reason attitude that others seemed to react to with cautious respect.
Spencer was even more appreciative when they finally landed in Colorado Springs, to be met by SFs who were nothing but respectful and careful of their attitudes around the somewhat oblivious archeologist. While Daniel had been on high alert around military he didn’t know, he seemed to drop all his guard around the SGC personnel. Spencer wasn’t ready yet to give strangers that much benefit of the doubt, to trust them so automatically. But he had never expected Daniel to have to babysit him 24/7. That Daniel knew and trusted these men so implicitly did go a long way to telling Spencer how important the other man was to the Stargate Program.
The process of getting Spencer signed in and passed through the multiple layers of security even to enter Cheyenne Mountain, with cat in tow, was daunting. Then the interminable ride down, not one but two elevator shafts, into the very bowels of the Earth, far below NORAD facilities… well. He was well and truly down the rabbit hole now.
Without a pause in their ongoing discussion of alien languages and the bizarre effects of the universal-translator field created by the Stargates, Daniel steered them both to what appeared to be a Mess Hall. Spencer had to admit he was a little peckish, and, although he usually avoided such ‘open concept’ eating facilities with horror, he was hungry enough to examine the steam table selections with some interest. Daniel grabbed himself a tray and started loading it up with meatloaf, mashed potatoes, peas, whole-grain bun, blue jello and apple pie, milk, coffee… Spencer, with some regret, stuck to those things that were wrapped, sandwiches, plastic tub of salad, pudding cup, an extra jello. He also picked up one large carton of milk for himself, and a small carton and a bowl for his cat. He could hear Bast’s appreciative purr ramp up a few degrees from somewhere behind and lower down.
Daniel led them both to an empty table in the corner. Spencer would have thought it would be prime real estate and therefore already taken, out of the way of the high volume traffic of the obviously busy cafeteria. Strange that it had been left noticeably empty… unless tradition reserved it for Daniel and his team. Spencer was able to take a seat with his back to the wall, Daniel not at all minding the chair across, the vulnerable spot that put his back to the crowd.
At the gentle swat he felt on his ankle, Spencer lost no time pouring out the milk and setting it by his chair. That should keep Bast happy while he ate himself.
And yes, Spencer couldn’t help but notice that they drew every eye in the place. Some curious, some confused, most smiling and calling out greetings, with hand waves at the archeologist, most choosing to ignore his dinner companion entirely.
And then, like a whirlwind, an attractive woman with black hair done up in pig-tails with bright pink scrunchies arrived, giving a screech and almost attacking Daniel from behind.
“My Daniel! You’re back!”
“I am. Hi, Vala. Oh, Dr. Spencer Reid, meet Vala Mal Doran, member of my team, SG-1.”
“Oh! You’re the zed! Hi! My, you’re almost as attractive as my Daniel here, even if you are much younger. I’ve heard all about zeds, and I’m curious as to whether you’re really as good in bed as everyone claims. If you would like to try your sexual wiles on me, feel free. But I warn you, after sex with Daniel, it’s a hard act to follow.”
Spencer wondered if he was supposed to be shocked by the loud announcement, which caused wide-spread snickering across the room, although Daniel merely gave a long-suffering sigh.
“We never had sex, Vala.”
“Well, we never had *long* sex…”
“Or of any kind.”
“But surely all that sweaty rolling around on the *Prometheus* counts? You know, when we were all alone together? After you got me naked?”
“I changed you out of kull armor into fatigues. And we were fighting, not making love.”
“So you say. It definitely counts as foreplay. So, Dr. Spencer Reid, you’re a profiler? What is that, exactly?”
“My team and I hunt serial offenders. Killers, rapists, child abductors.”
“Oooh… kinky. How do you do that?”
“We look at the victims, the locations of murders, where and how bodies were dumped, and build a psychological and geographic profile, to try and determine the type of person who might have committed the crimes, and where they may be operating. Taken together, that information usually points us in the direction of potential unsubs… unknown subjects. We’re very successful.”
“Well, your last case was certainly successful enough! Half a dozen murderers arrested, one shot, something over fifty crimes solved, all in a few days. I was following the whole thing on ZNN. Avidly.”
“Well… I’m not sure if that’s a reflection of our skill, or the incompetence of the local law enforcement, who let them get away with it for so long.”
“Ah, but you’re the one who first saw what was happening, true?”
“True,” Spencer admitted.
“Well then. So is it true you can tell when someone is lying?”
“Well…”
“Try me.”
The vivacious woman was definitely one of a kind. Superficially she reminded Spencer of Emily Prentiss, with her dark hair, pale skin and an indefinable aura of physical competence, that kick-ass, bad-ass vibe both women shared. She also had more than a little of Penelope Garcia’s unconventional and totally shameless vivacity. Not to mention attraction to bright colors, in the neon pink scrunchies. But Spencer had been told Vala ‘wasn’t from around here’, and as Dr. Thibideau had been at some pains to tell him, aliens… there was no telling what was going on with them.
“I’m not sure how well my perceptions would work with you, Ms. Mal Doran. Since you’re from… ‘out of town’, so to speak, your reactions derive from an entirely different culture and mind-set than I’m used to. The usual markers probably don’t apply.”
“Oh come on now. I double dog dare you.”
He had to smile. Her interactions with him were entirely free and easy, showing no preconceived attitude or prejudice. It was like dealing with his team, or a norm unaware of his status, who saw only him, not his gender. He was aware that she probably didn’t even know what a zed really was, given Daniel had told him they had found none on any world other than Earth, or, as they had learned lately, living in the Pegasus galaxy.
“All right. But not here and now. How about we have a game of poker later? You play poker?”
Vala gave him a shark’s grin. “Oh, do I play! I’ll gather the usual suspects for this evening, seven o’clock, officers’ mess. It’s where we usually play, and it’ll be a full house tonight, in more ways than one. I’ll supply the snacks. Bring lots of candy. That’s the usual stakes. I like the peanut M&Ms.”
With that, the woman flounced out, apparently on a mission to prepare for the big game.
Daniel studied him. “She’s very good at it.”
Spencer smiled placidly. “So am I. I was raised in Las Vegas, you know.”
“Um…”
“I’ve been banned from pretty much every casino in Nevada, and one in Atlantic City, because, with my memory and math ability, I can’t really avoid counting cards.”
“Ah. I see we have an interesting evening ahead of us, Dr. Reid. Eat up. You’ll need your strength. Vala doesn’t like to lose. And she isn’t above cheating, if she has to.”
Spencer smiled even wider. “I’ll show you a couple of card tricks, later, when I catch her at it.”
“Oh yeah, this is going to be interesting.”
“Jackson! You’re back!” called another loud voice from across the cafeteria, or was it a mess hall, since this was, after all, a military base? Spencer would have to ask Daniel, later. The low level of conversations in the room had abruptly gone silent as soon as Ms Mal Doran had entered, her voice clearly audible to even the least interested eavesdropper, as was that of the man who now strolled boldly up to their table. Neither visitor made any attempt to lower their voice, or keep their conversations private. Where everyone on the relatively small SGC base probably knew each other well, perhaps this was more a small-town scenario? Where everyone expected to know everyone else’s business?
“Oh, hey Cameron. Dr. Spencer Reid, Colonel Cameron Mitchell, team lead of SG-1.”
Spencer didn’t often shake hands, was uncomfortable with touch, but when Col Mitchell reached out and grabbed his hand, raised to give an acknowledging wave instead, and began pumping it enthusiastically, Spencer was too stunned and unprepared to resist. He had to content himself with withdrawing his hand as swiftly as possible.
“Dr. Reid! It’s an honor, sir. An honor. You’re a hero, sir, a gen-u-wine hero. Boy Howdy, my momma is going to flip when she hears I actually met you in person.”
When the boisterous and energetic man paused to allow Spencer a reply, he was too flummoxed to offer anything coherent. “Um…”
Daniel sighed as Mitchell grabbed a chair, spun it around to sit backwards on it so he could rest his arms along the back. “Tone it down a bit, will you Cam? Sorry, Spencer. Cameron can tend to be a bit of a fan-boy.”
“Hey now!” Mitchell protested, but his intensely blue eyes were sparkling. “I am a fan of the good doctor, I will freely admit. I heard you were recruiting him. Is he going to help out in the hard sciences section? I know they could sure as hell use someone better than Kavanagh to ride herd on the eggheads, and it’s gonna be another few weeks before they get a replacement CSO in here.”
“No. Jack and I are taking him to Atlantis. He’ll back up our Agent Afloat, Tony DiNozzo. We ship out on the *Daedalus* in a week, which gives us just enough time to bring Spencer up to speed and finish his qualification evals.”
Mitchell blinked at this. “Atlantis?” He blinked again, looking from Daniel to Spencer and back again. “You and Dr. Reid. In Atlantis. With McKay, Sheppard, Beckett and DiNozzo…? Oh hell, no. General O’Neill is taking you? Who else is going?”
“Well, Vala…”
“Oh hell no! Since when does SG-1 ship out without the team lead, anyway?”
Daniel blinked. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. I’m sure if you ask Jack, he’ll let you come too.”
“I might just do that, sunshine. I sure as hell don’t like the idea of y’all going out there without me. No telling what kinda trouble you might get into. And who you got on Dr. Reid’s security detail until then?”
Daniel blinked again. “Well… me, I guess. I’m just going to be showing him around the base. Vala’s planning on poker in the officers’ mess later tonight.”
“You?” Mitchell huffed. “And again I say, hell no. Not when your hand-to-hand and firearm proficiency scores have been in the toilet the past month, when you bother to show up for testing at all.”
Daniel scowled. “I haven’t had the time.”
“You’re on a front-line first contact field team, Jackson. You damn well better make time. You’re lucky Landry didn’t bench you before he left, because he would have *loved* the chance, and Davis won’t say boo to you. From what I hear, Chegwidden won’t have that problem, and he’ll ground you in a heart-beat. And seeing how lousy your last test was, even O’Neill won’t let you get away with going out anyway.”
Daniel colored red at the criticism, but Spencer had a certain sympathy for the man. He shrugged and said, “You’re looking at the person who holds the FBI record for most exemptions logged at the Academy for one agent, just so I could qualify for the BAU team.”
Mitchell looked him up and down, first critically, as if assessing his physical status, but then with a little sneaky half-smile, lingering a little on certain areas that made Spencer color uncomfortably himself. It took Daniel giving his team-lead a warning swat and a lifted eyebrow for the Air Force Colonel to straighten up.
“So you’ve qualified on firearms and self defense since then, right?”
“I’ve worked very hard in every area where I was deficient, yes. Although, I confess, I still struggle with the martial arts portions. My instructors are quite offended that I use moves my female teammates have taught me, and down-grade me because of that. I’ve passed all my quals the past few years…”
Mitchell was grinning at him, and Spencer felt his neck grow warm at the extra bit of heat in those blue, blue eyes. Although Spencer could certainly appreciate the aesthetic beauty of other human beings (and Col Mitchell was certainly a prime example of a healthy and attractive male), he rarely felt sexual attraction. He was also slow to register it when others showed such interest in him. In fact, he more often found it threatening. A consequence, no doubt, of the bullying he had suffered as a branded zed child and prodigy, and the repugnance he felt at the overly sexualized zed stereotypes. He was far more comfortable interacting with people on a purely intellectual level.
“Well, as my grandma would say, thank the Good Lord for that. I’ll have to get you on the mats myself, see those moves you learned first hand. But for now, you need an escort with better scores than Daniel here.” He turned and surveyed the cafeteria, and, as Spencer could have predicted, everyone seemed to duck their heads and turn away to avoid eye contact.
“Hey! Grogan. Nah, I see you over there, hiding behind Calvetti. Get your ass over here. You’re on escort detail for Dr. Reid until further notice. He gets so much as a hang nail on your watch, and I’ll have your guts for garters. Get it?”
“Got it, sir,” the young man with the captain bars sighed.
“Good. Now, I gotta go see General O’Neill about an assignment to Atlantis. Don’t lose him, Grogan. Dr. Reid? Once again, pleasure. I hope I get the chance to know you better.”
With a jaunty wink, Mitchell pushed himself out of his chair, and practically bounced out of the cafeteria. Spencer glanced askance at Daniel, who could only sigh and shrug.
“Sorry, Spencer. Cameron can be a little bit… high-handed. But he means well. You okay with this, Dave?” Daniel asked, turning to the young man.
“Actually, sir,” Grogan confessed, with the hint of a grin, “I was wondering if there was any way I could get an invite to the poker night. Sure. I’m good. Got no problems with zeds.”
“Well then. You finished there, Spencer? Bast too, I see? Then let’s finish the tour… and we’ll stop by the BX at some point to get you some M&Ms for tonight. I’m not sure if they have cat treats, but we’ll find something for her. Coming, Dave?”
“Right behind you, Doctor J.”
As they left their trays at the collection point, Daniel commented to Spencer, “Dave, here, has the distinction of winning the SGC ‘most number of non-fatal injuries’ award three years running, even beating out Sly Siler. And that’s not easy to do…”
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Cameron found the general hiding out in the last place anyone would expect… the office assigned to him whenever he was in Cheyenne Mountain. He tapped on the door frame and waited for the silver-haired man to look up.
The general was currently on the phone with someone from the Joint Chiefs, or maybe the Oval Office, to judge by the carefully deferential tone of his voice, even as he made faces and rolled his eyes. When he didn’t frown or make signals to get Cam to leave, the colonel took that as permission to remain and listen in, propping up the door frame.
“Yes sir… yes sir, I understand that, sir… Oh hell no, sir. They take the long way out or they don’t go at all. We usually get a good three months to train new personnel, sir, and we need every moment of that. And we know, because whenever we shove someone untrained through the gate, they get themselves, their teams, and sometimes the whole planet they’re on, blown to tiny bits. And that’s no way to win friends and influence people, sir… Well why not? Why do they have to go out on this run?... At least wait till the next run. *Daedalus* will be back in three months, another month to make the Pegasus trip, that’s all prime training time, they should be good to go by then, or we’ll at least have winnowed out the flubs… No, sir, I’m not saying we don’t take them at all. I’m just saying it makes no sense to send *anybody* to Atlantis without a decent grounding in gate travel, or, you know, a cooling off period, if they decide they don’t want to go… Well, to quote Harlan Ellison, sir, anyone who *can* be discouraged, *ought* to be. And better to do it before they ship out, or else we’re just sending them back on the return trip anyway, at least what’s left of them… No, sir. Dr. Reid is a special case. As a matter of fact, he’s the one new guy on the roster I *don’t* have any concerns about! An FBI agent with more than a decade of field experience, stellar marksmanship and negotiating experience is the *least* of my concerns… Because the last time the IOA forced our hands like this, we ended up sending one Trust Goa’uld, one Lucian Alliance ringer and one traitorous ass-hole gun runner to Atlantis! Right now I don’t even have names for half of them! If they won’t even give us time to do a decent security check on these pigs-in-a-poke they’re sending us, then… It happens, sir. It happens a lot, when we don’t get a chance to… Well then, sir, be prepared for our survival rate to go down the toilet. And we’ve been doing so well since the Ori left town... Seriously, sir? As far as I’m concerned, at the moment, they *all* look like Wraith food… yes sir… yes sir. Thank you, sir… Good bye, sir.”
Hanging up, O’Neill groaned, stretched and slumped in his executive chair, then stared at Mitchell. “Okay. Lay it on me. It can’t possibly be worse than what I just heard.”
Yeah, Mitchell had been hearing about the IOA shoving a bunch of newbies, geeks and sudden last-minute un-vetted international personnel on the next trip out to Pegasus. Even the spec-ops military they picked up for the project needed a significant breaking-in period.
Mitchell almost felt sorry for the man. Almost.
“Sir. Got a bone to pick with you, general sir.”
Jack leaned back in his chair, glad of the interruption and the excuse to stop reading the infinite number of emails crowding his in-box, and none of them with good news for him. He gestured Mitchell to come in and take the five-minute chair across from him. As Mitchell came in, shut the door pointedly behind him and sat, Jack said “Let me guess. You want to come to Atlantis with us.”
“You’re taking Jackson and Dr. Reid. Not to mention Vala. That leaves me and sergeant… what’s-his-name. The new guy. The temporary new guy who probably won’t survive his first trip out with us, so I haven’t bothered remembering his name.”
“Yeah, I know that one,” Jack agreed. “What’s wrong with him?”
Mitchell shrugged. “Nothing really… just too damn new. Too damned military and by-the-book. Like there’s a book for what we do. And he *has* been through our regular three-month training schedule, but I’m doubting how much of it sank in. Day he got assigned to us, I asked him what he thought of archeologists going out with the teams… he gave me a song and dance that showed he at least did his homework and knew who Daniel was, but I was checking him in the mirror when my back was turned, and he was all over rolling his eyes and wincing. Haven’t had much reason to change my opinion since. And if you’re taking Daniel and Vala to Atlantis, that’s at least a three-month turn-around, and I’d have to re-build a team anyway… thought I’d toss him back to the back-fill pool for some other team lead to show him the ropes.
“So tell me sir, why take Daniel and Vala and not me?”
Jack sighed, and shrugged. “Not a slight, Cameron. Not a deliberate one, anyway. But I’ve got an itchy feeling in my gut about what’s going on out there in Pegasus, and I need to be there.”
Mitchell sat up with a gratifying show of concern for Jack’s gut. Daniel had waved a negligent hand at his worry, and Hank had failed epically to earn his confidence in this particular matter. Maybe he had found someone willing to listen and offer an unbiased opinion.
“What’s got you riled, sir? If I may ask.”
“You may. It’s the zed thing. How do you feel about them, Cam?”
“I got no problem with anyone who isn’t trying to shoot at me. I got family who are Z positive, carriers and zeds both, and I gotta say… I don’t like how hard they have it, for something that’s no different than having dark hair or blue eyes. I know General Landry has some burr up his ass about them, but not me. So what zed thing are you talking about?”
“I’ve got this feeling… I think it’s about to blow sky high, and I think it’s going to start in Pegasus. I feel like I need to be there.”
Mitchell frowned. “Zeds, hunh? Yeah, it does seem like it’s high-time people got their heads slapped so they can get them screwed on right. And from what I’ve read about Dr. Reid, he’s just the guy to do the slapping. But you’re taking him to Atlantis.”
Jack fiddled with his pen. “I don’t like what I’m hearing, Cam. Or rather, not hearing. We send one zed to Pegasus, and suddenly everything is about zeds. Teyla and Sheppard’s wookie are up in arms about how he’s treated. Seems they’ve got berds in Pegasus and they’re all, like, holy men and shamans, highly revered there. And suddenly, we discover a whole hell of a lot we should have suspected to begin with. Zeds didn’t evolve here with the rest of us, they came to Earth when the Lanteans returned. So. Not a genetic mistake, not a mutation or error on the part of Mother Nature, but a venerated people from another galaxy, who were taken from their homes and brought back here for who knows what bent reason. So how did they get to be pariahs on this planet, hunh?
“Now we find out they’ve all got the ATA gene… or at least, that’s Daniel’s guess, and when is he ever wrong about this stuff? He might not consciously remember from when he was glowy, but you know how those Ascended bastards like screwing with him so they can lead us all by the nose. And right now? I’d bet my last fishing rod that they’re leading us to some kind of revelation about the zeds.”
Mitchell frowned, considering this. “So you’re going to Atlantis to find out more about zeds.”
Jack nodded. “Because the answers sure as hell aren’t here. I need Daniel to come with, because he’s the only guy who has a chance of getting me those answers. And ever since we sent NCIS Very Special Agent Afloat DiNozzo to Pegasus, I’ve been getting the most white-washed and squeaky-clean bullshit mission reports out of AR-1 I’ve ever seen in my *life*. No way did Carter see those and not know she was looking at BS, first to last. God knows, we wrote enough of them ourselves over the years to be able to spot them a mile off. Yet she passed them on to me, without so much as a sticky-note to explain herself. So she’s going along with Sheppard and his wookie, backing whatever play they’re making out there, and waiting for me to come and call her on it in person. And that… that scares me green. ‘Cause you know it can’t be good.”
Mitchell slowly nodded. “And Dr. Reid? How does he fit into all this?”
Jack leaned back in his comfy chair. Much as Walter must hate Hank Landry, he still loved Jack. “He fits a lot of ways. First, the poor kid has made Earth too hot to hold him, for now. He stays here, he’s going to get himself killed in the anti-berd back-lash from his adventures in Arkansas. And I have a feeling that would be a crime against humanity, if I were to allow it on my watch. So I’m sending him to the one place I know of where he has even a chance of surviving. Second… IQ of 187, reading speed that defies belief, and an eidetic memory, three PhDs and a whole collection of ABD terminal masters, not to mention the other degrees he’s collected… like other people collect postage stamps. He’s a walking talking database of Earth’s accumulated knowledge. Of course I want him on my team! And that’s even without his background of field work with the BAU. The kid catches serial killers for a living. He practically reads their minds. You bet I want him. Third…
“I’ve been doing this a long time, Cam. I can tell an Ancient SNAFU about to blow up in our faces when I see it. And the timing of Reid’s Arkansas case is just too much not to be a sign from on high. And I don’t mean God. Those bastard Ancients need us to clean up another of their messes. They never care too much about collateral damage, and Reid was lining up to be victim number one. So I’m going to personally escort that kid to Atlantis, and find out what the fuck is going on with zeds, and what it’s going to take to straighten it all out this time.”
Mitchell nodded. “Okay. I get all that. Thing is, sir… permission to speak freely?”
Jack groaned. “I hate when someone says that. It usually means I’ve fucked up somewhere. Sure. Okay. Go ahead.”
Waving his hands and vaulting to his feet, Mitchell roared out, “Are you *nuts*? You’ve already got McKay, Sheppard and now this DiNozzo guy out there in Pegasus… I don’t know too much about the NCIS guy, just enough to know he’s a goddamned trouble magnet of planetary magnitude, but the other two? They’re pan-galactic trouble magnets, well known fact! And you want to send Daniel and Vala, Universal magnets for all things trouble, and now Dr. Reid, who has *already* proven his trouble scope to be epic? All that trouble magnetism, all in one place at one time? Are you *nuts*?”
Jack blinked. “Um… I don’t think I actually thought of it that way…”
“Well start! Sir. Okay, so you’re going along to wrangle Daniel and Vala… Lord knows, you’re the only one who has a shot at corralling Daniel, let alone his girl friend. But that still leaves Dr. Reid, a god-damned babe-in-the-woods, to poke his finger in the first light socket he sees. And if he does have the ATA, you know the kind of sockets he’s liable to find! And that’s without this zed mess looming in our future.”
“Okay... point.”
“Now, the way you laid it all out, I have no doubts you’re right, but by taking Dr. Reid to Atlantis, you’re basically making him bait. If something ugly is coming at the zeds, it’s gonna hit him, and DiNozzo, first.”
“Now, that *had* occurred to me. Any suggestions about how I can mitigate the damage? Because believe me, losing either one of those young men is *not* in my plan.”
“Seems like DiNozzo is pretty well taken care of – Teyla and Ronon will have his back, from all I’ve heard. Which leaves Dr. Reid.”
Jack eyed the young Colonel, considering him. “Sounds like you might want that assignment. Care to tell me why?”
Mitchell colored bright red, and Jack had an epiphany. “But you don’t even know the guy! Have you even met him yet, face to face?”
“In the commissary, just now.”
“Don’t tell me. Love at first sight.”
“Hey now! Let’s not get hasty here.”
“Lust at first sight?”
Mitchell scowled. “No need to get all insulting, sir, just ‘cause I called you out on your fool plans for collecting the biggest trouble attractors in the known universe into one city. Dr. Reid is an outstanding human being who doesn’t deserve all the crap he’s had drop on him from a great height, or what you’re letting him in for, without even warning him. You haven’t, have you?”
“Yeah, the best defense is a good offense. Nice one, Cameron. No, I haven’t. I’m thinking Daniel knows most of it, or could guess. But it was hard enough talking Reid into accepting our offer in the first place, without adding any items to the ‘con’ column. And what do I even say to him? That there’s a big honkin’ target on berds? I think he’s already well aware of that. Okay. You’re in. I already knew I was going to need someone I trust to bodyguard Reid. You two will be partners, at least until we can get some kind of handle on what’s going on. But I’m going to warn you now. If, when you’re watching his six, you get distracted by his ass, I’ll string you by your *cohones* to the highest tower in Atlantis. *Comprende*?”
Mitchell placed his hand over his heart. “Sir. You wound me. I’m good enough at multi-tasking to do both.” Then he gave an irreverent grin that had Jack laughing.
“Go on. Get out. You’ve got packing to do. We leave in a week, you know, and we’ve got a lot to do before then. Oh! And, Cameron, just to put the cherry on your sundae... you do know we’ve got a bunch of Russians shipping out with us?”
Cam’s smug smirk abruptly disappeared under a scowl. “Aw hell, sir. How’d you let that happen?”
“IOA. Not my call. But given their attitudes toward zeds... much as I’d like a good excuse to dump them out an airlock on our way to Pegasus, not if it means putting our new pet zed at risk.”
“Yeah. I get that. I’ll do my best, sir.”
“You do that, Cameron. Or, you know, we’ll see if we can’t get the Israelis to do it for us.”
That hit-in-the-head-with-a-bowling-ball look on the colonel’s face as Jack shut the door on him, was priceless.
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