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Fanfiction: Broken Wings, Chapter 21

For author's note and disclaimer see Chapter 1

Cam watched as the guard who'd ordered him out of the room locked the door, bolted it and pocketed the keys. He inwardly groaned because it would make grabbing them much harder. His eyes flitted to the young guard standing beside him with another zat pointed at him. He was tall, thin and with a blond crew cut that reminded Cam of Billy Idol.

'Start walking.' Guard Numero Uno growled.

The Billy Idol wannabe pushed Cam's shoulder and he started walking. The corridor was narrow and Cam felt a moment's satisfaction that they were on a boat as they walked through another door – one that he recognised from various times he'd been on aircraft carriers. He climbed up the ladder to the next deck at Guard Numero Uno's insistence and down another narrow corridor. There were portholes to the left and Cam tried to peer out casually. His eyes glanced off a floating iceberg and widened.

They were near Antarctica.

It wasn't his favourite place – he'd almost lost his life after the crash on the ice – but he would take it. McMurdo was close and John knew Antarctica; he'd spent almost a year posted there before the Stargate programme.

OK, so Antarctica wasn't great but it could be counted in the plus column, Mitchell determined. He shivered though at the sight of the ice; the warm leather jackets the guards were wearing made sense. What was bad, Mitchell thought tiredly, was that he and John were stripped. They'd need to find clothing to escape in or they'd die from hypothermia before they even made it to McMurdo. It was still a possibility even without escape; the room they were in wasn't exactly freezing but the Alliance hadn't made it comfortable. He hoped John would stay warm.

The guard turned a corner and Mitchell was waved into an open cabin door. He ducked his head a little and entered. The brush of heat against his bare skin reminded him of his previous thoughts as he took in the large space; oak panelled, furnished as a study with a further room off to the back where Cam could see a bed.

His attention was arrested on the sight of the blonde woman standing behind the desk. She wore a three-quarter length leather jacket over a tight black top and leather trousers. Her hair was neatly constrained in an elegant chignon. Gold glinted in the lobes of her ears, at her wrist and on her fingers. Allia was an attractive woman in her forties; her face bore few wrinkles and she kept it stylishly made up to cover any blemishes including the scar on her left cheek that Netan had once given her.

The scents of freshly brewed coffee and baked cinnamon pastries permeated the air and Cam felt his stomach growl hungrily. Allia smirked at him and waved him into the chair in front of the desk.

'Would you like something to eat or drink?' Allia asked courteously. She sat down as Cam did and reached into her purse for a cigarette packet and lighter.

'I'd like the coffee and pastry without the drugs.' Cam watched fascinated as she lit up and blew out a stream of smoke. He was aware that the guards remained behind him, poised to shoot if he tried anything with her.

Allia pushed the plate and mug over towards him. 'Your lucky day.'

'I was thinking just the opposite.' Cam said. He picked up the mug and drank down the warm liquid gratefully. He knew the guard had given John some water; they needed fluids. 'So,' he said, 'you couldn't have just called?'

Allia's red lips curved into a wide smile. She tapped off the ash of her cigarette into a small ashtray and leaned back into her comfortable leather chair. 'I'd forgotten how much you amused me.'

'I'm hurt that I was so forgettable, Allia.' Cam shot back. He stalled by drinking some more coffee. 'How long have you known about the imposter?'

'Since one of my people got herself killed to let me know.'

The scare that someone had gotten too close, Cam remembered; the one that had led to the information being leaked in the Alliance that there was a spy and the details of the deal.

'My name wasn't mentioned but yours was of course so I knew.' Allia stabbed out the cigarette with one hard thump. 'Someone was pretending to be me.'

'You could have contacted us and let us know.' Cam replied, trying to keep his tone casual. 'We tend to take a dim view of people pretending to be someone they're not.'

'You think your General would have cared since the information the traitor provided had already saved some of you?' Allia retorted angrily. She pushed her chair back and got to her feet. 'You and I both know I would have been laughed at and denied my rights.'

Cam could feel his eyebrows climbing. He crossed his legs and grimaced at the reminder of his own nakedness. 'Your rights?'

'To kill the imposter.' Allia glared at him as though he was stupid; he felt stupid.

'I take it this is some kind of Alliance tribal law thing?' Cam questioned. He was actually interested. The SGC didn't really understand the workings of the Alliance – it was why they were rarely successful at getting operatives inside.

'You Tau'ri mock our ways,' Allia's dark eyes glittered, 'but our ways are as valid as yours.'

'I didn't say they weren't,' Cam kept his tone mild, 'and I am interested in the answer.'

'I have the right to vengeance.' Allia looked at him coolly. 'The rest of the Alliance agreed.'

'They approved?' Cam was surprised. From what they had understood the Alliance tribes worked mostly on their own eschewing a formal leader like Netan had been – probably because of how hopeless Netan had been.

'Yes,' Allia smiled again and sat on the edge of the desk just in front of him, 'I've been here for months overseeing this plan.' She reached out with a finger and traced his collarbone.

Cam tried hard not to shrink away from the touch or show that it had affected him in any way. 'The plan to capture me?'

'You were the obvious candidate.' Allia trailed her finger up his neck and prodded his chin up so he looked at her. 'You know where she is.'

'I haven't got a clue.' Cam replied honestly. 'The General kept me out of it. Why do you think I was so surprised to see you? The information my team gathered for me indicated you were busily getting debriefed ready for your new life.'

Allia absorbed his sincerity with a frown. She dropped her hand. 'You do realise that I can't just take your word for it.'

'Why not?' Cam asked as though it wasn't too much of a concern that she wouldn't. 'Irrespective of the details, we dealt with each other fairly and honestly the last time our paths crossed.'

Allia smiled. 'So we did.' She stared at him for a long moment – long enough that Cam felt the flutter of nerves in his belly; a shiver worked its way down his spine. She moved suddenly, returning to her chair and lighting another cigarette. 'Even if I was to believe you, Cameron, you still can lead me to her.'

'I don't know where they are.' Cam said honestly. He eyed the pastry. He was hungry but he felt guilty for thinking about eating when John wouldn't.

'Now that I don't believe.' Allia snorted. She dragged on her cigarette. 'Landry must have told you.'

'The General knew I was at risk.' Cam stated firmly. 'He kept me out of the whole thing. Think about it, Allia; would I have really agreed to have had the wedding and gone on my honeymoon if I knew about the spy and where Landry was with her? Would I have left my CO without back-up?'

Allia considered his words and shook her head. 'You're much too honourable.' She regarded him with an almost fond look that made his stomach churn. 'You wouldn't last in the Alliance.'

'I'm telling you the truth.' Cam said.

'Let's say that you are telling me the truth,' she motioned with the cigarette, 'that you don't know anything, I'm quite certain that you could persuade your team to find out.'

'They won't give in to blackmail from terrorists, Allia.' Cam pointed out. 'They know you have me and if I call and ask, they're not going to give me anything.'

'The thing is, Cameron,' Allia said, flicking her ash away, 'you'd say the same thing regardless of whether it was the truth or not and how am I meant to tell the difference?' She smiled. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to have a little fun to check.'

'Go ahead.' Cam offered with a show of bravado. He'd already felt her whip once; he could do it again if it bought him and John some time. John was right; their team-mates would be looking for them and they would find them.

'Maybe I won't play with you.' Allia stubbed out the cigarette and leaned back. She folded her hands over her belly and looked at him with a smug smirk that Cam itched to remove from her face. 'Maybe I'll play with someone else.'

'Sheppard's too valuable for you to kill.' Cam pointed out.

'But not to maim.' Allia grinned. 'I was thinking of taking his legs. He's a pilot, isn't he? Can't be a pilot without legs.'

Cam kept the flinch off his face with a struggle – it was a barb about his father, Cam was sure about that. Instead he shrugged with a brief lift of his shoulders. 'You can if you fly Ancient technology.' He paused. 'He does that with his mind and since taking his head would mean killing him…'

Allia's lips curled into a snarl. 'Maybe I'll just hurt him. Make him bleed.'

Cam shrugged again. 'Go ahead. He expects to be tortured.' It was the truth. Cam expected to be tortured too because he knew Allia wouldn't accept his word.

She laughed raucously. 'I do like you, Cameron.' She tilted her head, her eyes cold. Her gaze flickered to the guard behind him. 'Get the coats, and find clothing for Colonel Mitchell.' She pushed her chair back. 'We're going to take a walk.'

Cam didn't let her comment faze him. He waited for the guard to return. The green flight jumpsuit reminded him of those one by the Earth fleet but there were no patches to signify any ship affiliation. He pulled it on grateful to be covered up and ignored the fact that he was being watched by Allia and the guard. The boots were his but they didn't give him his socks and Cam hid his discomfort as he tightened the laces. A thick thermal jacket in black completed the outfit.

Cam felt the prod of a zat gun at his back and got to his feet. There was a guard between him and Allia, another at his back. He calculated the odds of successfully overpowering the three of them and determined they weren't good especially as his knees ached with every step.

Allia opened a door and rush of ice cold air slammed into Cam. He huddled into his coat and spared another guilty thought for John, still stripped bare and on his own in the cold room. He stepped out onto the deck. He noted the two helicopters on the helipad; crouching like black spiders on the bow of the ship. His heart lifted. He had no idea how to fly a chopper but he had confidence John could even if he hadn't flown those particular models before. They rounded a corner and for a second Cam had a good view of the whole deck. The deadly sleek form of a 302 caught his attention immediately.

The spy on the Odyssey, Cam realised as he was hustled straight through another door and into the bowels of the ship again. Whoever had beamed them to the ship must have escaped the Odyssey using a 302. OK, Cam thought hopefully; they had two ways of the ship – the helicopter or the 302. John could fly either; Cam could fly the 302. They had options. The helicopter was closer, could get them to McMurdo, and was probably a safer bet but the 302 could get them safely to the Odyssey as long as there was enough fuel.

The boat must be cloaked though, Cam thought with a grimace. Otherwise the Odyssey would have already picked up on the 302. It also explained why they hadn't been beamed back. Or maybe the spy had compromised the beaming technology when he'd left.

Allia opened a door and ushered him through it with a sly smile. Cam shot her a questioning look but stepped inside with a grimace. The room was small and clearly a surveillance room; there was a woman sitting at the table reading a magazine, ostensibly ignoring the two monitors in front of her. She got to her feet hastily as Allia entered.

Cam's eyebrows lifted. The clothes were all Alliance; brown leather pants, leather vest over a white t-shirt, and she looked a lot different from her photo. 'Ms Lovell, I presume?'

The redhead blushed and turned to Allia. 'The prisoner hasn't moved.'

Allia nodded sharply. 'Good. You may leave us. Find some food for Colonel Sheppard and have it delivered to his cell.'

'You could give him some clothes too.' Cam interjected mildly. 'It's pretty cold in there.'

Allia's gaze sharpened on Cam but she gestured at Lovell. 'Give Sheppard a blanket.'

'Yes, Allia.' Lovell sidled out, casting a nervous glance towards Cam.

'Well, that explains why we couldn't find her in the States.' Cam commented dryly.

Allia smiled. She gestured towards the monitors. 'Don't you want to take a look at the prisoner?'

Cam knew there was a sting in looking. He wondered if he'd see them beating John and steeled himself. His eyes flickered to the screen. For a second, his mind refused to make sense of the picture before his heart leapt anxiously into his throat and his body froze, shivering underneath the warm clothing.


His ex-fiancée was in a room somewhere on the ship. She was clothed in jeans and a t-shirt, stretched out on a double bed. There was a discarded tea tray with the remnants of a meal on the table beside her. They must have beamed her away from her house; it was bloodless and easy. The protection detail wouldn't have any idea she was even missing. Fear riddled Cam for a minute; made it impossible for him to speak. He knew there was only one reason for Allia to have kidnapped Amy – to force him into doing what Allia wanted.

'As you can see, she's unharmed.' Allia said softly. 'And she'll remain that way as long as you do what I tell you.'

Cam shot her a furious look.

'Ah, Cameron. So you do care for her.' Allia grinned and sat down on the table, crossing her arms as she regarded him coldly. 'I did wonder when you cancelled the wedding.' Her head tilted. 'Not that I can blame you for that; she is dull. I rather think you need a woman with spirit.' She waved a hand toward the monitor. 'It only took her ten minutes to stop yelling and start crying.'

Cam took a deep breath and ignored his balled-up fists. 'Let her go.'

'I don't think so.' Allia replied easily. 'If you have a failing, Cameron, it's that you're too honourable. You'd let me torture Sheppard without giving me anything because you know he's implicitly signed up for it since you're both soldiers of a kind here on your world. But sweet, gentle Amy…' her lips curved cruelly, 'well, she's an innocent – what do you call them? – civilian? You can't let her be tortured.'

'I told you the truth,' Cam rushed out defensively, 'I don't know anything about the imposter or about where she is with Landry. If you torture Amy - anyone, it'll be for nothing because I won't tell you anything different.'

Allia's gaze raked over his face again; he wondered whether she could see the honesty in his eyes or the desperation. 'Why don't you go and say hello to her?' She grinned. 'We did prepare the room as a honeymoon suite after all.'

Cam let himself be prodded out of the surveillance room and back down the narrow corridor. The guard unlocked a door and pushed him unceremoniously through it. The door locked behind him.

Amy stirred on the bed, her eyes opening slowly. She sprang up as soon as she saw him and an instance later, Cam had his arms full of her. He held her tightly, knowing she needed the reassurance as she sobbed on his shoulder. He smoothed a hand over her hair and down her back, trying to comfort her. He was too aware of the camera; of Allia in the surveillance room watching and listening to everything they had to say. He ducked his head to hide his own face in the crook of her neck and froze.

The grim scar line at the base of her neck told its own story. She was a host. He schooled himself not to tear out of the embrace. He took one deep calming breath after another. The line was new; he would swear it hadn't been there when he'd hugged her goodbye. Carolyn's people had cleared her of being a host. The Alliance had to have implanted her after they'd beamed her away from her home, Cam realised. He closed his eyes and took another calming breath.


Why would they have implanted her? To save time to get the knowledge of what Amy knew, Cam surmised. They thought he would tell her his next destination. But he hadn't, had he? He thought back over their conversation and inwardly winced as he remembered that he'd told Amy that he'd call when he got to his place. He hadn't meant to but he had given away that he was heading back to his own home.


And Amy having the Goa'uld inside of her meant that the Alliance had an easy way to torture her; not to mention that it made it difficult for Cam to leave with her because he'd have to find some way to subdue her. Perhaps they were even hoping that he would confide any escape plans to her so they'd have an easy way to stop him.

Escaping had gotten more complicated in the past fifteen minutes; he had to find some way to get back to Amy's room from his and John's cell; subdue Amy and make his way back to the helicopter. The 302 was out because it only carried two; they would need the helicopter.

He had to pretend that he didn't know about the Goa'uld, Cam thought quickly as Amy's sobs slowed; he couldn't let them know he suspected. Cam pulled out of the hold and brushed her tears away with a careful dash of his thumb. He eased away from her gently, taking hold of her hands and leading her back to the bed. He sat down with her.

'Are you OK?' Cam asked solicitously.

Amy gave him a disbelieving look – and he wondered for one moment if it was Amy or the Goa'uld in her head. 'One minute I'm in my house, Cam, and the next minute I'm here. What's going on?'

'We've kidnapped by the same people Lucy and Gus work for.' Cam said succinctly. 'The leader is a woman called Allia. We've met before when I was on a mission.' He cleared his throat and considered what he could say to her; how much. OK, so he could start with the truth. 'Until I saw her here I thought she was being debriefed by General Landry as a double agent working towards a reward of a new life here on Earth.'


'She was, uh, supposed to be a spy. But, obviously…' Cam shrugged and kept his attention on Amy's fingers. 'She's not. There's an imposter and Allia's not too happy hence why we're, uh, her guests.'

'Because she wants to find out where General Landry and the imposter are?' Amy asked, seemingly innocently.

Cam nodded, unable to speak.

'Why don't you tell her?' Amy suggested. Her fingers tightened around his. 'I mean, surely the General has protection and then she'd let us go and…'

'Amy.' Cam closed his eyes briefly against a surge of disappointment. It had to be the Goa'uld trying to get him to give away secrets he didn't have; it had to be. He refused to believe Amy would be so weak. He cleared his throat and looked at her. 'Amy, I don't know where Landry is. I didn't even know that he had this agent within the Lucien Alliance until we did some digging on why they might want to kidnap me this last couple of weeks. Landry left me out of it. I don't know why. Maybe because he knew it wasn't Allia and didn't want to tip her off or didn't want me to know. I don't know.' He sighed. 'All I do know is that I don't know where Landry is.'

Amy searched his face for something and her expression hardened imperceptibly but enough that he knew the Goa'uld was frustrated. 'Are you afraid they're listening in? Is that the reason…'

Cam laughed harshly and pulled away from her, getting to his feet and limping away a few steps needing the distance to continue the pretence. 'I know they're listening, Amy, but even if they weren't; it would still be the truth. I don't have the information they want.'

'So what's going to happen?' Amy changed, once again looking meek and terrified.

He shook his head as though to clear it. 'They're going to try and convince me to say something different which since what I've already said is the truth is going to be difficult.' He said simply. He limped back over and took her hand. 'Amy,' he said, speaking to the woman who was probably trapped in her own head by the Goa'uld, 'just stay calm and stay safe. We'll get you out of this, I promise.'

Amy nodded slowly.

Cam squeezed her hand as the door was unlocked and Billy Idol swept in to hustle Cam out again. He was taken all the way back to Allia's office and told to wait.

The silence in the small room was deafening. Cam surveyed the lukewarm coffee and the pastry. He drank down the liquid and ate up every scrap of the food. He knew he'd need his strength for whatever games Allia wanted to play next.

God. It was a mess. Amy infested with a Goa'uld. Allia and her vengeance gig. John locked away in the bowels of the ship and probably freezing to death. And Cam, half crippled by the pain in his knees and his back…

Cam's lips firmed.

He couldn't give up. His team were looking for them; John's team were looking for them. They would be found and rescued. And regardless of that, they could escape…they would escape. They just had to find a way.

The door opened and Allia marched in with a grim smile. She raised the weapon in her hand – a Goa'uld pain stick.

'Are you sure you don't want to change your mind and tell me where the bitch is?'

'I'm telling the truth, Allia.' Cam repeated, trying not to tense in anticipation of the torture he knew was coming. 'There's nothing more I can tell you.'

Allia's smile widened. 'Oh, I know that.' She twirled the pain stick as though she was a cheerleader with a macabre baton. 'But why let that spoil my fun?'

Crap, thought Cam grimly. He'd get through it though. He'd get through it because Mitchells didn't give up, SG1 didn't give up, and neither did John Sheppard or his team. He had to hang onto that.

Chapter 22




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