Author's notes: This is an NCIS case-file. Characters from Stargate SG-1 are involved in this story, but if you don't watch Stargate SG-1, you can still read this, as they are merely players in this case.
If you are familiar with Stargate SG-1: this story is set in the third season of Stargate SG-1, and the second season of NCIS. If you want to point out that the years of those seasons don't match: I know. Just image they do! This is fan "fiction", you know...
Also, I'm trying to stick to the show (NCIS)'s timeline, so Gibbs' team does NOT know about Shannon and Kelly yet, but that doesn't mean I can't use the knowledge of their existence.
Last, but not least: I'm not an native English speaker. I have written many stories before, so I guess I'll do all right. But little bits and pieces: their my fault! Just ignore them, or point them out to me and I'll make some changes.
Disclaimer: I don't owe any of them. I have no room for them anyway! I'm just playing, and will return them when I'm done, more or less in one piece.
April 2009: this story is slowly going through some minor changes, as Lynette has kindly offered to do a quick beta on it! So the chapters will be replaced in the next coming weeks by new ones, with hopefully less grammar mistakes.
CHEYENNE MOUNTAIN, COLORADO SPRINGS
Colonel Jonathan -Jack to his friends- O'Neill had no idea why he was going to see Colonel Robert Makepeace. Former Colonel Makepeace. Former Marine. Dishonorably discharged. Robert Makepeace, that piece of ----, who had been stealing technology from the Air Force and selling it to the enemy. Being a mole for the rogue group within the ranks of the National Intelligence Division (N.I.D.), he had been giving away Intel, too. A traitor, exposed in action by Colonel O'Neill himself.
O'Neill, team leader of SG-1 for almost three years now, and also second in command of the whole base stationed at Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado Springs, had been reluctant when General Hammond had informed them of the creation of a third SG-team, consisting of a couple of Marines. Marines, serving under the Air Force was something that just didn't sound right.
The rivalry amongst the two departments of the Military was there as it always had been, the Marines calling their colleagues "fly-boys" while the airmen, and being totally honest - Colonel O'Neill in particular, referred to their counterparts as "jar heads".
Having completed several missions together over the past three years, the mutual respect between the first and the third team had grown, however, and the nicknames had remained but were just friendly bantering between them.
Colonel Makepeace had successfully led both recon and rescue missions and had saved O'Neill and his team from dire situations. That was something written clearly in Jack O'Neill's memory and had been added to his IOU book.
Hence O'Neill's disappointment at discovering Makepeace's actions in his role as a mole and traitor. If O'Neill hadn't been the one catching him in the act, he might have never believed it to be true. He was actually just starting to like the "jar head".
Robert Makepeace had been arrested and would be transferred to a proper prison later that day. He was being held in one of the holding cells on level 24 within the mountain.
O'Neill had watched him being led away, a mixture of anger, sadness and disappointment clearly visible in his eyes.
Now, a few hours later, Makepeace had requested to see him, making O'Neill wonder why.
Giving a brisk nod to the security guard standing at the door, O'Neill entered the cell. Robert Makepeace was already there, sitting on a chair, his chained hands in front of him on the table. His feet were shackled as well. Not that O'Neill could see through the table, but he knew they would be.
"Robert," he greeted, his voice icy.
"Jack..." Makepeace didn't look up and his voice betrayed his mood. The man was nervous.
O'Neill didn't sit down, but remained standing, his shoulders straight, his head up. "You're wasting my time."
"Please?" O'Neill growled. "Is that all you've got to say?"
"Jack..." Makepeace started again, this time tilting his head, just enough to glance at the Air Force colonel. "I'm not asking you to understand... I'm not asking for your forgiveness..."
"Good," O'Neill snapped, anger now becoming apparent in his features. "Cause I don't understand it at all, and I will never, ever be able to forgive." Stepping closer, the colonel bent forward, bringing his face close to Makepeace. The urge to grab the man by the shoulders and slam him into the brick wall was almost impossible to suppress. Instead, he placed his hands solidly on the table. "I trusted you!"
Makepeace, more than a little uncomfortable with an O'Neill in full blown anger in his personal space, sagged in his seat at the last three words that felt like whiplashes in his face. "I know," he whispered.
"Why, Robert?" O'Neill asked as he raised his upper body. He looked at the man in front of him, saw the flushed face and the shame in the man's eyes. He lifted one hand and ran it through his short hear, shaking his head in disbelief. "You had it all. You had your own team, you had the possibility to mean something to this world. You were good, damn good." Stepping back, O'Neill repeated the question that never be answered. "Why?"
Makepeace stared at the wall. He knew there was no reason to answer. O'Neill would never understand. Betraying that trust was the ultimate crime, probably worse than the actual treason itself. O'Neill would never forgive him, either. After working with him for almost three years, Robert had no illusions. It didn't matter anymore. He just needed O'Neill to do him one favor, and he hoped desperately that the Colonel would grant him that.
The tall colonel moved toward the door and brought his hand to the doorknob, preparing to leave and never look back. His anger had ebbed away, and it was being replaced with a feeling of emptiness and sadness. He opened the door and stepped outside. He didn't look back, didn't say a thing, but closed the door behind him. He did, however, hear Makepeace's final plea.
"Jack. Find Arti. Please?"