Chapter 1

Daniel walked down the alley between the little bookshop on 10th and the all-night gym that was beside it, a bag of books weighty in his hand. The air was chill and the clear sky of the afternoon had been replaced by cloud cover that muffled the moon and hid the stars completely. He hadn't realized how absorbed he'd become in his research. Tom had let him stay hours after closing today without a word. He must have been working late himself, or he'd have kicked Daniel out with all the browsers at seven. Still, a couple of these references could prove valuable.

A footstep sounded behind him in the alley, and he turned his head to look behind him. It was a guy in dark blue sweats, a gym bag over his shoulder. Some of the folks from the gym used Tom's parking lot, especially after hours. They weren't supposed to, but parking could be tough. Daniel turned back without paying much attention.

Six books put a bit of a dent in the budget, especially when one of them was four hundred dollars. Tom got good stuff, though. He knew what he had, so he sold it for what it was worth. However, it did mean Daniel could count on his stuff being what he said it was.

He didn't get any warning signals till he was almost to the parking lot end of the alley. Suddenly, the light Tom kept burning back there went out. For a moment, Daniel didn't think anything of it, just reached into his pocket for his key light. Then he heard the footsteps behind him speed up, and a shadow that was blacker than the darkness loomed up in front of him.

Dropping the bag of books, he pulled his keys out of his pocket, shifting them in his clenched fist to make it a spiked rather than blunt object. He sensed rather than saw a blow coming towards him from the figure in front and ducked sideways, lessening the impact of the club on his head to a graze. He slammed his fist forward into the attacker's gut and was rewarded by an outrush of air.

A heavy blow smashed into his lower back, sending him to his knees. The fight became more confused after that, but he didn't stop struggling until something hit him in the back of the head. His skull exploded with pain and he felt himself pitch forward, but was unconscious before he landed.

Jack let the phone ring until the answering machine picked up. Daniel's voice came over the earpiece, confident and cheery. "You've reached Daniel Jackson. Please leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

"Daniel? You there? Pick up." He waited a couple of seconds, then hung up the phone.

"This isn't like him," Carter said.

Jack blinked. "Are you saying that Daniel's never late, Carter?" he asked, and she got one of those exasperated grimaces.

"No, sir, I'm saying he was really excited about this mission. And this isn't late, this is . . ." She shook her head. "This is way worse than late. He's not even on base."

"Major Carter is correct," Teal'c said.

Jack bit his lip. He agreed, but he didn't want to admit it. He picked up the phone and dialed Daniel's cell phone, again.

Hammond came out of his office into the conference room. "There's nothing from the highway patrol. No car accidents."

Jack heard what the general said, but his attention was diverted abruptly when the cell phone picked up, but this time he didn't get voice mail. He got the sound of a room with people in it, but no one spoke into the phone. "Daniel? Daniel, are you there?"

A deep male voice he didn't recognize spoke. "Who are you?"

Jack's gut clenched. "Who are you?" he demanded. That got everyone's attention.

"I asked you first."

"What, are you in kindergarten?" Jack demanded. "Who are you and why are you answering Daniel's phone?"

Before the other man got a chance to respond, Hammond took the phone from him. "This is Brigadier General George Hammond of the United States Air Force. Who is this and where is Dr. Daniel Jackson?" The general's face was tight and angry as he spoke, and Jack wished the damned phone was broadcasting the answer. They all waited impatiently while Hammond listened. The general's eyes widened. "What? Where?" He shook his head. "No, not under any circumstances." He paused for a moment. "No, in fact the reason we were calling is that we have no idea where Dr. Jackson is. He's four hours late for work, and more than an hour late for a meeting he would not have missed." Jack's anxiety notched up higher as Hammond spoke. "No, I don't know of any reason why he'd be in that part of town."

"General?" Jack said.

"I'm going to send the man's supervising officer to meet with you immediately," Hammond said. "In the meantime, I would like to officially report Dr. Daniel Jackson missing." It was like a punch in the gut. Jack glanced over at Carter and Teal'c who looked as stunned as he felt. "Can you hold on for a moment?" He lowered the phone. "O'Neill, go to the police station at Lexington and Park. Dr. Jackson's cellular phone was taken off a drug dealer who was arrested earlier today."

Shit! Jack started out of the room instantly.

Behind him, Carter started speaking. "Sir, request permission to accompany –"

"Granted, major. Teal'c, I'm afraid you'll have to stay here." That was the last Jack heard as he headed down the stairs to the control room and out to the elevator. Carter caught up with him before he got to the doors.

"Should we change, sir?" Carter asked.

"Undress blues," Jack said shortly. "Fifteen minutes."

"Yes sir," she replied, and true to her word, she met him by the elevator in fifteen minutes, neat and unruffled. They went to the surface together and got into his truck. Carter was a silent mass of tension all the way to the police station. They didn't either of them have much to say. What could they say?

They were walking in the front door of the station before Jack realized that he didn't know who to ask for. They were hard to miss in their uniforms, though, and an officer came towards them as soon as they got inside. Jack tucked his hat under his arm as the young man approached.

"I'm Sgt. Barnes," he said. "Lt. Axner is expecting you. Please follow me."

Jack nodded. They walked through the halls, perps and cops alike looking curiously at them as they made their way to an upper office. Probably they didn't get too many Air Force officers in here. Lt. Axner was a tall, skinny guy with a knobbly adam's apple and thinning red hair.

"You must be Colonel O'Neill," he said, and Jack recognized his voice instantly.

"I must be. What the hell is going on here?"

"Please sit down. I have some questions I need to ask before we talk any further." Jack sat irritably, and Carter followed his lead. "What exactly is your relationship to Dr. Jackson?"

"We're co-workers at Cheyenne Mountain. Daniel is a civilian contractor." Lt Axner raised an eyebrow. Jack grimaced. "And we're his friends," he added ungraciously.

"What is the nature of his work?"

"Top secret," Jack said. "If I didn't work with him, I wouldn't know, but I can tell you that he has PhDs in anthropology, archeology and linguistics."

"I see," Axner said, making a note. "Have you ever heard of Alan Jones?" They both shook their heads. "Mark Rodriguez?"

"Nope. Who are they?"

"Actually, I've heard of that second guy," Carter said. "He's a drug dealer." Jack stared intently at her. "A suspected drug dealer," she amended. "It was in the papers. I read about him a couple of weeks ago." She paused thoughtfully, and Axner waited to see if she had anything else to say. "There was something in a letter to the editor about him working for a man name Albert Cordova."

"Albert Cordova is the man we found the phone on," Axner said, gazing suspiciously at Carter.

"That's all I know, really," she said. "And I only read about it in the paper. I'm sure Daniel doesn't know them either."

"Why are you so certain?" Axner asked.

"Because if Daniel knew anything about drug dealers, he'd turn them in without a second thought," Jack said. Axner's brows went up, and Jack wondered suddenly if that was what had happened. Daniel had seen something and . . .

"Do you know of any reason for him to have been near the Wal-Mart on the east side of town?"

Jack shook his head. "None," he replied. "Carter?"

She blinked thoughtfully. "He was looking for some reference books, I think, but I can't think of any bookstores near there."

"There's a Barnes & Noble not far away."

Jack made a scornful sound. "Not likely."

"Daniel's not a real big retail shopper," she said. "And the kind of expertise he has wouldn't lead him to look for books at Barnes & Noble."

"So . . . college bookstores?"

"Maybe," Jack said. "More like some of the fancier used bookstores."

"Antiquarian bookstores," Carter said with emphasis. "Rare bookstores. Not necessarily fancy. Some of them are pretty hole-in-the wall."

Axner got an odd look on his face. He picked up his phone. "Bring me the file on the John Doe from last night," he said.

Jack felt his throat seize up, but Carter leaned forward. "John Doe?" she repeated. "Not John Doe as in . . . as in dead?"

Axner shook his head. "No, this man is in the hospital, but there's no guarantee it's even your friend. I just –" A uniformed cop came in with the file and handed it off. Axner flipped it open as the other cop left. "I thought so. This guy was found in the parking lot behind Bartoli's Books in downtown. Six foot, short brown hair, blue eyes, glasses."

Carter made an odd squeaking sound, and Jack nodded. "That sounds like him," he said. "Got any photos?" Wordlessly, Axner handed a picture across to him. Most people probably wouldn't recognize their friends' faces in that state, but Jack had seen Daniel beaten bloody all too often in the past. "That's our man," he said feeling sick. "Which hospital?"

"Memorial," Axner said, and Jack stood up, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Colonel, I'm not done with you yet."

"Maybe not, but we need protection on our man, and if he's drugged, we need someone with him." Axner looked startled. "This man works in the highest classification the government has. Do you want some of the hospital staff to disappear into a holding cell while their lives are taken apart piece by piece while we figure out how dangerous they are? Or how about if someone just goes in and finishes the job, taking out anyone who gets in the way?" He shook his head. "I don't know why I'm talking to you. Carter, you're with me."

"Fine, but I'm coming too," Axner said.

"Truck only holds two," Jack replied curtly.

"My car can run the lights."

Jack blinked at him. "Okay, you're coming." On the way down to the lot, Jack called Hammond and got the ball rolling at the SGC. Once they were in the car and moving, Jack said, "Now, what's wrong with him?"

"Well, he hasn't regained consciousness since he was found late last night. Someone tripped over him in the alley between Bartoli's and the all night gym."

"God damn it!" Jack growled. "Of course he hasn't, or you would have called us by now. Exactly what is wrong with him?"

"It appears that he was mugged. His wallet was taken, and I presume he would have had a car?"

"Of course," Carter said. "But that doesn't tell us what's wrong with him."

Axner was quiet for a moment, then he cleared his throat. "He's in a coma."

Jack sat back against the seat of the car, staring out the window. "A coma?" he repeated.

"Yes. He was badly beaten, as I'm sure you saw, and the doctors are concerned about head injuries."

"Someone's going to die," Jack said.

"The doctor's don't think it's likely," Axner said.

"I didn't mean him."