SG1-25 Hostile Ground(102)

“Uh,” Jack said, pushing past Daniel and Carter to reach Hunter. “What just happened?”

Hunter met his gaze. “You’re gonna meet Dix.”

“I don’t think so,” Jack said, tapping the SG-1 patch on his arm. “What does this have to do with it?” As if he didn’t know. Every damn System Lord out there wanted to get their hands on SG-1.

He brought his weapon up fast, backing up a step and cursing the cramped space. Behind him, Carter flipped off the safety on her weapon and Teal’c primed his staff as they both took up defensive positions. The fake Jaffa jumped to their feet in response, Amam stunners appearing in their hands, and just like that they had themselves a regular Mexican stand-off.

“If you think we’re going to let you hand us over to some Goa’uld,” Jack said, “you’ve got another thing coming.”

Hunter raised his hands. “Hecate won’t hurt you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Sir?” Carter said. “A ha’tak with a Stargate could be our best shot at getting home.”

“She’s right, Jack.” Daniel stepped forward — typically, he was the only person in the room without a weapon in his hands. “Hunter,” he said, “we want to trust you.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“You serve a Goa’uld,” Daniel explained, indicating his SG-1 patch. “And most Goa’uld we meet want to, um, hurt us. A lot.”

“Not Hecate,” Hunter said. “Not Dix. I swear on the life of my boy, they won’t hurt you.” He touched the mark on his forehead and looked at Teal’c. “Dix wears the mark of Apophis, too.”

“Though he serves Hecate?” Teal’c said.

“Apophis is dead, my friend. Now Hecate is Mistress of All.”

Teal’c didn’t answer and into the silence Daniel said, “Jack, do we have a choice? We could be thousands of miles from the Stargate and we still have no DHD.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jack threw a quick glance at Carter but her gaze was fixed firmly on where she was pointing her weapon. He knew her mind had to be running in the same direction as his, though. They should have followed protocol and stayed close to the Stargate, because now they didn’t even know how to find it again. But there was no point in dwelling on should-haves, so he pushed the thought to the back of his mind and focused on the decision at hand: take their chances with Hecate’s First Prime or head back to the Amam ship and try to figure out a way to get back to the Stargate and dial home.

Daniel was watching him with a steady gaze, Carter standing tense at his side while Teal’c remained as still and silent as always. They were all waiting for him to choose their fate, trusting him to make the right call. After everything the past few months had thrown at them, after the way he’d been forced to treat them, they still trusted him to get it right. It was a heavy responsibility, but it was a weight he was glad to shoulder; nothing was more important to him than the trust of his team.

Taking a breath he made the decision. “Better the devil you know,” he said, lowering his weapon and flicking the safety back on. “Carter, Teal’c — stand down.”

Warily, they lowered their weapons and Daniel let out the breath he’d been holding in a whoosh of relief. “Good,” he said, rubbing his hands together in satisfaction. “So, Hunter, which way now?”

Hunter smiled. “Down.”

Daniel’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Um, down?”

Stepping aside, Hunter revealed a heavy metal panel on the floor — a trap door.

“He lives in the basement?” Jack said, flinging a doubtful look at Daniel. Who the hell was this guy, Dracula?

Two of Hunter’s men grabbed a crowbar each and levered open the metal plate until it fell with a dull clang and a cloud of dust onto the dirt floor. A waft of dank, chill air rose up as Hunter grabbed a bundle of sticks and thrust them into the fire. They lit, guttering and spitting, before settling into a serviceable torch. “Come on,” he said. “We’ve a ways to go.”

Peering over the edge of the hole, Jack fished his flashlight out of his vest and shone the beam down into the darkness. It bounced off the crude metal rugs of a ladder and glistened on a damp, rocky floor. “What’s down there?”

“You’ll see,” Hunter said, lowering himself onto the ladder. “Dix can answer all your questions.”

Yeah, Jack thought sourly, right before he shoots us.





CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX




The descent down the ladder was perilous. The concrete of the shaft was old and rotten, the rungs more rust than metal. The narrow space was dark and musty, and the dust clogged Sam’s throat. She wanted to spit, but Hunter and Colonel O’Neill were below her.