When we gated to P4Y-996, I was in Heaven.

Looking back, I should probably have realized that it was too good to be true, what with SG-1’s track record. It’s all hindsight now, anyway, but I wish we had turned and gone right back where we came from before we even met up with the natives.

Our greeting party was dark-skinned, handsome, and dressed in Mayan clothing. I drew in a quick, delighted breath, and beside me Jack said softly, “Don’t tell me! Let me guess. It’s the ancient so-and-so’s?”

I gave him a dirty look, my annoyance quickly forgotten when the leader of the natives stepped forward. He was taller than the others and spoke with a note of unmistakable confidence in his voice. He introduced himself as Chan-Ahk, which was fascinating and proved that their culture had been preserved considering that an ancient Earth Mayan king was named Taj Chan Ahk, and said that we were welcome to visit his city so long as we did not intend to bring harm to his people. I gave him my usual greeting line, assured him we were peaceful, and nearly died of ecstasy when I saw the now-abandoned temple at the edge of the city.

Three more Mayan men, dark-skinned and silent, emerged from the edge of the temple and stood contemplating us expressionlessly. Chan-Ahk motioned us to wait and walked over to join them, evidently explaining in low tones what was going on.

“Doesn’t look like there’s much here,” Jack said, so close I could feel his breath on my ear, making me jump. Obviously our resident mother hen was taking his protective instincts a little too far again.

“Jack!” I protested. “Look at this temple! Do you know what kind of archaeological - ”

“No, and I get the feeling I don’t want to know either,” he said wryly. “It’s just a building, Daniel, a fallen-down one at that. I don’t see any writings, and they sure as heck don’t have any big honkin’ space guns. They’re pretty primitive.”

I sighed in frustration, resisting the urge to remind him of how primitive the Nox had seemed when we first met them. “I bet there are inscriptions inside, Jack,” I said. “I’ll ask Chan-Ahk about it. How’s that?”

“Okay, but be careful,” he said, eyeing the Mayan leader suspiciously. “On second thought, take Teal’c with you.”

For Pete’s sake, Jack, it’s not like I’m even going out of your sight! Overprotecting the little brother again, are we?

Teal’c nodded silently and moved over next to me. Just as I was about to make a beeline for Chan-Ahk, Sam said, “Uh, sir?”

I looked over at her; several slender, pretty native women had materialized and were tugging on Sam’s hands, trying to convince her to come with them. In contrast to their silent and stern men, these women were giggling as if some great joke had been made. Sam couldn’t resist smiling a little along with them.

“I don’t think they mean me any harm, sir,” Sam said, then added quickly when she saw the doubtful look on his face, “I’ll be careful. Won’t let them take away my weapon or anything.”

“All right, Major, stay on your toes.” Jack turned back to me. “Weren’t you supposed to go talk to that Jackie Chan guy?”

“Chan-Ahk,” I muttered under my breath, setting out toward the Mayan leader with Teal’c on my heels like a silent shadow. I didn’t leave quite fast enough to avoid hearing Jack’s “Chan Ack. Sounds like a karate dude with a hairball.”

Oh, God, the mental image. How does he do it?

Chan-Ahk actually gave me the faintest of smiles as I approached, allaying my fears that I was going to interrupt him and commit some kind of cultural faux pas. He asked politely what I wished to know, and I questioned him about the temple, its history, and its significance to his people.

Immediately becoming more animated than I would have imagined possible, Chan-Ahk launched into an explanation of how their ancestors had built the temple right after arriving through the Standing Circle. When the city had moved further north, the original temple had been abandoned and a new one built in what was now the center of their city. And yes, the original temple had writing on the inner walls, although it was in a dialect that the Mayans standing before me were no longer very familiar with.

The awe! The excitement! The archaeological significance!

Ignoring Teal’c, who had seated himself at the base of the temple wall at the beginning of Chan-Ahk’s story and was now looking thoroughly bored, I put on my best ‘I told you so’ expression and turned back to look at Jack ... and he wasn’t there.

It was as simple as that.

There had been no sound, or at least not any that I’d been aware of. I had to admit my attention had been focused pretty intently on Chan-Ahk’s tale, but I couldn’t see Jack being abducted without quite a struggle. The man can be maddening sometimes, but we all know he can damn well fight.

And yet he was gone, and there had been no struggle. Even if I had been to preoccupied to hear it, Teal’c with his Jaffa hearing certainly would have.

“Jack?” I said over the radio. “Jack, come in.”

Silence.

How long had I listened to Chan-Ahk’s tale, completely spellbound, without turning to look at Jack? Fifteen minutes? Perhaps even twenty? It hadn’t seemed that long, but I know from experience how quickly time passes when you’re having a really good time. Could Jack have gotten bored and wandered off?

For just an instant when I turned back to Chan-Ahk, there was a look in his eyes that I didn’t like, but it disappeared so rapidly I wasn’t quite sure it had ever been there. Perhaps it was my imagination playing tricks on me.

“My friend, the one who was there,” I said, pointing to the place where Jack had previously been standing. “Did you see what happened to him?”

His face completely impassive, Chan-Ahk shrugged. “No,” he said flatly. “I was not looking that direction. He might have gone to see about the woman, or simply to inspect our city.”

Some people might have just wandered off without any advance notice. Not Jack. He was too military for that. If he’d gone off to check on Carter or to scout out the city, he would have radioed to tell me so.

Teal’c was back on his feet, and when his eyes met mine I could see that he felt the same sense of unease I did. Something wasn’t right. Something here - something about it all, about these people, about their eagerness to accept our presence - felt very wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

“Sam?” I tried the radio, praying that she’d answer. “Sam, what’s going on?”

“Daniel.” She responded immediately, her voice sounding bright, as if she’d just been laughing. “Where are you at?”

“I’m next to the temple. Listen, have you seen Jack?”

“The Colonel?” I could hear more giggling from the native women in the background as she spoke. Heaven knew what they were doing - decking her out in some kind of native clothing, probably. “No, why?”

“Because he isn’t here. I was talking with Chan-Ahk and I turned around and he was gone. I’ve tried to radio him, but he doesn’t answer.” Lowering my voice so that Chan-Ahk couldn’t hear me, I said softly, “Sam, I think something’s wrong.”

Sam may be a woman, but she’s also a very professional Air Force officer, and it shows. All traces of gaiety were gone from her voice when she responded, “I’m on my way.”

Ten minutes later she showed up, her face serious. By then I had tried radioing Jack five more times, and Teal’c was looking at the silent natives around us as if trying to decide which one he should shoot first if they didn’t produce Jack very quickly.

“Nobody’s seen him,” Sam said, slightly out of breath. “That’s what they said, anyway.”

The natives said nothing while we huddled together in our own little conference. They just looked at us, showing no signs of aggression, their faces revealing nothing. It was a little like being stared at by a row of mannequins. Not a comfortable feeling.

“I believe these people are concealing something,” Teal’c said. “They do not appear to wish to be forthcoming about O’Neill’s whereabouts.”

“I agree that they’re acting strange, Teal’c,” I said, “but can you really believe that Jack could be abducted from right behind us like that? I mean, wouldn’t we have heard something, seen something? Sensed something?”

“There are a lot of ways to kidnap someone, Daniel,” Sam said grimly. “A drugged dart shot from the cover of the trees would work nicely. We don’t know how it happened, but we have to find the Colonel.”

Preferably soon, I thought, caught up in uncommon worry over Colonel Jack O’Neill, he who is usually so capable, who fairly drips sarcasm, who hates techno babble and who is one hell of a lot smarter than he wants anyone to realize.

Sam, Teal’c and I were growing progressively more jumpy as the moments wore on. Just a few moments ago Sam had activated the ’gate and informed General Hammond of the situation; he was sending two more SG teams through to help us out with the search. The Mayans still stood around quietly, answering our questions only vaguely, and had shown no signs of being hostile, but we felt the situation deteriorating.

The sooner we found Jack and went home, the better. I know Sam and Teal’c and I felt that way, and so did SG-10 and SG-14 once they ’gated through and took one look at the blank faces surrounding them.

The search began.

Three hours later we had combed the small city (which, even for a small city, seemed to have surprisingly few inhabitants) top to bottom and found not so much as a single cartridge, or a thread off Jack’s uniform. It was as if he had literally vanished into thin air right behind our backs. I knew Teal’c was beating himself up about not keeping a closer eye on Jack, and I felt guilty too. I guess it’s easy to get used to Jack being so capable of taking care of himself, and to forget that he’s not invincible.

Not by a long shot.

If Jack was in the jungle around the city, we were in serious trouble, because an entire herd of elephants could hide out there and remain undetected as long as they didn’t move. The horrific possibility that Jack had been dragged away by some sort of wild animal entered my mind, but was quickly rejected; if that had happened, there would have been shooting and a whole lot of yelling. A conscious Jack O’Neill is a man who is not going down without a kicking, screaming, shooting fight.

Looking back, if we hadn’t found the trail, we probably never would have known what became of Colonel Jack O’Neill. He would have been listed as missing in action and after a while, killed in action, with no closure for anyone who had known and respected him, for anyone who had been his friend. For anyone like me.

We did, however, find the trail.

The Mayans had taken pains to conceal it, which is where having a Jaffa who is also an expert tracker comes in handy. Teal’c’s sharp eyes spotted the unnatural look of the greenery, and with a few quick jerks, some brush came away to reveal a faint but definite trail.

And eerily, all the natives who had been watching us so passively moved around to stand in front of us, shoulder to shoulder, a silent wall forbidding us to go any further.

It was then that I knew that wherever this trail led, Jack would be, and that we had to get there even if it meant blasting through that silent line of Mayans. Violent thoughts for an archaeologist, I suppose, but where my friends’ lives are concerned, I am not extremely worried about cosmic diplomacy.

We tried to shove our way through them. They might as well have been made of brick.

“Let’s blow them all to hell, Teal’c,” I stated quietly, moving back to a safe distance. My patience was gone. I wanted to find Jack and I wanted to find him now.

Sam said, “Daniel!”

Teal’c took my command seriously and primed his staff weapon. For the first time, the Mayans started to look a little uncertain, and I realized that they hadn’t seen how our high-tech weapons work. It was about time they had a little demonstration.

“Hit that tree, Teal’c,” I suggested, pointing to a moss-draped giant just to the left of the trail. Teal’c inclined his head slightly and blasted a nice hole through the trunk of the tree, sending natives scattering in silent terror. I felt a strange sense of satisfaction at finally having rattled their infuriating calm.

Our way unimpeded, we walked down the trail, weapons at the ready, three-fourths of SG-1 leading with SG-10 and SG-14 trailing behind us, searching for the missing one-fourth of SG-1. Our commanding officer, our Jack O’Neill, who drives us crazy and keeps us together.

Around a bend in the trail, we discovered where the absent inhabitants of the city were.

Reverting back to archaeologist mode, I could only think to compare the structure in front of us to a Roman coliseum, on a smaller scale. The stonework and decoration were different, but the structure’s basic purpose looked to be the same.

No sooner had I made this mental observation than I remembered why we were here, and got a horrible sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Oh. God. No.

No.

There were no shouts or screams from the crowd; it seemed that this Mayan community held quietness in high regard. There was only the occasional soft “aaaah”, swelling from several hundred throats, a sound of pleasure and wonder.

And then, from the ring, a vicious spitting snarl, like an angry housecat magnified by ten.

The natives nearest us turned to gaze silently, seeming unaffected by our presence. Not wanting to see what lay inside the ring, but compelled by a need to know our leader’s fate, Sam, Teal’c and I walked quietly forward, ready and very much willing to shoot anyone who tried to stand in our way.

Sweet Mother of God!

The form, the ragged bundle of gashed and bloody fabric, could not possibly be the proud man who had teased me and treated me like a little brother mere hours ago. I told myself this while knowing all along that it was him, could not be anyone but him.

The creature in the ring with Jack, or with what once was Jack, looked more like a leopard than anything else, with a slightly different spot pattern and color from the leopards of earth. It was also bigger, much bigger, too big for any human to handle.

Jack was dead. There was no way he could possibly be alive, not after being mauled by that, not after all the blood lost ...

He was not dead.

His hand twitched, then his entire arm. His fingers spasmodically dug into the dirt and, head down, blood slicking his silver hair, he pulled himself a few inches. He was trying to crawl away, blindly attempting to escape from the danger even though he must have been all but dead.

The big cat pounced on him, swiping his back with razor-sharp claws, but lightly, not enough to kill him. It was playing. It was a housecat with a mouse, enjoying the feeble dying struggles of its prey before the inevitable.

Oh God oh God oh God ...

Behind me I could hear a member of one of the other SG teams making retching noises and I felt like doing the same, but even more than that I felt like blowing up this whole damn city. I think I was about as angry as I have ever been at anyone or anything before.

What kind of sick monsters could do this to a human being? And why Jack? Why not one of us? They could have snatched us just as easily, Sam who went so willingly with the native girls, Teal’c and I talking unconcernedly with Chan-Ahk.

Why Jack?

He had stopped moving now, his face pressed into the ground and his body slack, his fingers still curled around a handful of reddish dirt. I couldn’t see whether he was still breathing, please, let him be breathing ...

Teal’c fired his staff weapon at an empty part of the coliseum, causing the natives to stare at us, wide-eyed and obviously intimidated. “We will remove O’Neill,” he announced in a loud voice. “We will not be stopped.”

No one argued. We were greeted by complete silence, and I saw no sign of stirring from Jack, no indication that he had heard Teal’c’s words.

The oversized leopard snarled angrily and tried to turn on us when we approached the gate to the ring, but a single shot from Teal’c’s weapon took care of that problem, vaporizing the creature’s head. Running past its smoking carcass, I knelt beside Jack, hardly able to believe what my eyes were telling me.

“Oh Jack.” My voice was shaking. “God, Jack, please.” I tried to find some place to touch him, some small spot that hadn’t been gashed or torn by the creature’s vicious claws. I wanted so badly to get through to him, to make him understand that I was there, that he was safe now.

The medic who had accompanied us rushed into the ring bearing a stretcher, as white-faced as the rest of us, horrified by what he was seeing. As they carefully turned Jack over, his eyes flickered and with a few slight movements of his hands he weakly tried to push them away.

“Jack.” I leaned over him, tried to get him to focus his gaze on me. His face seemed to be in the best shape; he must have protected it with his arms. I reached down to touch his cheek. “Jack, it’s me. You’re safe now, I promise. It’s okay. They’re helping you.”

With great effort, he focused chocolate brown eyes on my face and I knew the exact second when resigned despair changed to tentative hope. “Dan ... iel?”

“It’s me, Jack. You’re okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

His eyes wandered a little, then came back to my face. “Danny, be care ... ful, there’s some - something ... here ... ”

Oh God. Typical Jack, worrying about me when I’m completely unharmed and he’s dying in the dirt, slashed to ribbons by an overgrown cat.

“It’s okay. Teal’c killed it. He blew its head off.”

The medic pushed me aside, needing room to work, shouting things about blood loss and needing a huge dose of antibiotics, but I knew Jack heard my last statement because I saw the tiny grin curl the corner of his mouth and heard the final tenuous whisper of, “Sweet.”

On the way back through the jungle, back to the Stargate, to the infirmary, to a medical staff that could stitch him back up and replace the lost blood and turn the battered rag doll back into a human form, I held on to Jack’s hand, to let him know I was there, to let him know I was his friend, to let him know he had made it.

Again.