Terror in Boulder by Biltong and Mandy K.

……………………………………………………………………………

She stared down with a stunned expression at the pile of rubble in front of her, well aware that a moment ago, a vibrant person called Jack O’Neill had been walking there, urging her to hurry. Now there was nothing, just a loose pile of brick and mortar in what had used to be a long hallway filled with happy people heading up to the grand stands.

She stared around herself with wide eyes, suddenly made aware that she herself was trapped in what the grownups would euphemistically call an air pocket. From what she could see, she had been very lucky. The hallway had collapsed both in front and behind her, but her tiny section of hallway had held up, refusing to collapse. She stared up at where the ceiling was, noticing that it was cracked like an egg, a diffused glow of light from the outside world lighting up the dust motes, and wondered why she had been so lucky.

There was just enough room to move, and from the look of it, just enough oxygen to breathe.

For a while, all she could do was lean against the stone slab behind her and shake, tears streaming down her face, before her common sense slowly asserted itself.

Obviously, something catastrophic had happened to the Boulder Ice stadium, causing it to collapse, trapping dozens of people, she and Uncle Jack being one of them.

Luckily, this had been a Navy/Air Force game; meaning whatever had happened would be sorted out pretty quickly.

The pep talk, delivered in a sotto-voice lest anybody else heard her, seemed to help.

She was the daughter of a doctor, even if she was adopted, which meant she had a pretty fair grasp on medical matters, and she was Jack’s only hope.

That’s if she could find him and not have the rest of the hallway down on top of her.

Tears running unashamedly down her face, she slowly knelt and began to dig at the rubble in front of her with her bare hands, feeling for Jack’s body.

She slowly became aware of other voices crying out, some pleading and some rabid with despair, and shook her head, stunned.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassie stared evilly at the back of her mother’s head, then grinned as her sparring partner sitting in the back seat with her winked at her solemnly.

" That includes you too, Jack," came the voice of Daniel Jackson from the passenger seat, making the man in question grimace.

Daniel sighed loudly. " We’ll be there shortly. The stadium looks crowded, so just try to behave until we find parking, okay?"

Cassie’s sparring partner suddenly disappeared as if he had never existed, something she had gotten used to over the years.

" This is a Navy/Air Force game, Daniel," he said calmly, "and the Navy, like the Air Force, runs on rank."

" Look for the officer’s parking, numbskulls," Jack said with a grin. " I am after all, a Colonel."

" Yessir," Janet Fraiser said with a grin, following a clearly marked sign and breathing a sigh of relief as they left the crush of cars outside the stadium behind. Soon they were at the entrance of a massive roped off area being zealously guarded by two MP’s.

Dr Janet Fraiser waited patiently as the two burly MP’s slowly made their way to her car, her ID at the ready, when one of them suddenly frowned.

" I’m sorry maam, but this here parking lot is for officers only. Civilians are required to park elsewhere."

For a moment she just stared, flabbergasted, before realization set in. She was the only one in uniform. The Daniel and Colonel O’Neill were still in their drab insignia less olive BDU’s, having come straight from the base, and Cassie had been picked up en route.

" Jack O’Neill, Colonel," a cool voice said from behind her. She heard the window wind down and saw the guards stiffen. "The driver and her passenger are Doctor Daniel Jackson, and Doctor Janet Fraiser, Major, Cheyenne Mountain medical section."

Daniel kept a straight face as one of the MP’s handed back Jack’s ID with a respectful nod.

Jack hadn’t actually lied about his status, merely phrased it so that both guards thought he was a Major as well. All in all, a clever bit of English.

"Colonel. Majors," the guard said, pointedly ignoring Cassie in her pink ski jersey. " Enjoy the game."

" That we can be assured of," Jack murmured as they exited the car. "Especially when the Air Force beat the living cra…"

" Colonel, really," Cassie said, trying to look prim and proper and failing miserably. "Please remember that I am a minor."

He raised an eyebrow at her, taking her hand as they encountered the crush of people outside the stadium. " Really? Is the pay good?"

" Mine too," Janet said, chagrined, staring at an equally as upset Daniel. " It’s probably going to get cold later."

Jack smiled at his friends. " I knew this was too good to be true, although I expected you to at least have your head screwed on, Janet."

" Here. He passed them their tickets. " You go back to the car whilst I and Cassie find our seats, okay?"

He gave them a casual wave, steering a highly excited Cassie in front of him. " Don’t delay. This promises to be a real humdinger."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

" Sorry to have been so stupid," Daniel said, taking her arm and leading her back the way they had come.

" Me too," she said with a smile, trotting to keep up with his easy stride. " I’m not usually this forgetful."

" It’s being around me that does it," he said playfully, surprised by the pink flush that suffused her face. " Or maybe my stupidity’s catching," he said, giving her an out.

" It’s probably the latter she said nastily, struggling to open her car door. " Damn it," she cursed. " I really must think about getting a new lock for this car."

" Here let me," Daniel said, his hand warm on hers as he took the keys. " Maybe all it needs is a little elbow…"

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The smoke woke him. That, and an unnatural keening wail that seemed to come and go in waves of sound, tightening his scalp in reaction.

For a moment he lay on his back, wondering vaguely how he had come to be there, then reality came crashing back, making him sit up abruptly, his heart in his mouth.

" Why did you push me?" She said, her voice sounding tinny against the background of noise that seemed to get louder with each heart beat. Screams could now be heard, widening Janet’s eyes.

His hand stilled her, strong and sure after countless missions. " Listen," he said urgently.

They huddled behind her car and listened incredulously to the sounds of what could only be a major disaster.

The wailing noise was coalescing into the sound of a hundred car alarms, all competing with the cries of the injured.

" Oh God…Janet said, pulling herself to her feet and peering over the top of her car.

"We need…we need to…" She gulped, briefly shutting her eyes, and Daniel didn’t blame her one bit.

The car park was gone, replaced with a landscape reminiscent of those horror filled days in New York on September 11th, the sight quailing his heart and freezing his blood.

Everywhere he looked there were the mangled wrecks of cars, some literally on top of each other. He clutched Janet to him, certain they had survived a car bomb.

It was only when his eyes finally came to rest on the stadium that the full magnitude of the disaster became apparent.

The stadium was in ruins, as if a huge bomb had been dropped on it. Daniel hugged Janet to him, slowly quartering the ruins of what was left with piercing eyes, refusing to give into the shock that was clawing at the edges of his mind. Somewhere in, or near that ruin, was his friend Jack O’Neill, and Cassie. All he could do was pray they were still alive, and help as much as possible.

It was a cry of a mother who suddenly discovers her child is missing, grim and ferocious.

" We’ll find her," Daniel said, leaning down to stare into glittering brown eyes. " But right now I need you to focus."

He gestured to the sea of people, some lying still, some moving jerkily, obviously in shock.

" At this moment, you could quite well be the only doctor there is, and they need you."

He was pleased to see her straighten her spine, the light of fire slowly returning to her eyes.

" You’re right." She cocked her ear as the first siren from emergency vehicles could be heard. " I’ll stay here." She suddenly pummeled his chest, making him take a step back. " You go and find my child, and the Colonel. Y’hear?"

" Yes maam," he said with a humorless smile, and loped off towards his worst nightmare.

Daniel wasn’t used to swearing, in fact, he rarely did so at all. This time he made an exception.

The stadium he knew was gone, as if it had never existed, leaving only cement and warped steel behind, some as high as a three story building, making him wonder what tonnage of explosives had been used to have such an effect.

He looked up to see one of the burly MP’s from the parking lot stood on a pile of concrete, frantically jettisoning rubble towards the ground. " Can you help?"

Daniel could, but was aware that if they didn’t co-ordinate their efforts they could do more harm than good. They also needed more help.

" Captain," he snapped. " Get down from there, and round up as many able bodied people as you can." He pointed to the man’s feet. " For all you know, you may be standing on someone lightly buried with rubble."

He ignored the man’s muffled reply, fishing out his cell phone, hoping like hell that SG5 weren’t offworld.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Major Samantha Carter dropped her sample with a clatter as a frantic Airman came bursting into her lab, oblivious to the warning red light outside the door that denoted a hazardous experiment in progress.

" Begging your pardon maam," she huffed. " But General Hammond wants you in the briefing room immediately. He says it is SG1 and is code red."

A code red was rarely given, and was usually when a member of an SG team had died, or was imminent danger of doing so.

Praying that the powers that be hadn’t sent the Colonel on another black op, she fairly leapt for the door.

" Well, I do," General Hammond said, his Texan accent very pronounced, a sure sign of stress. " And if you wait a moment, I will fill you in as well."

" Sit," Hammond said impatiently. " But be prepared to move immediately." He looked towards Colonel Zack Van Ryn, SG5’s efficient commander.

Sam winced. Kyle had mellowed over the past year - a healthy dose of pure Gou’ald could knock the arrogance out of anyone - but still managed to trip over his own feet on a regular basis, something Hammond disliked intensely.

Hammond shook his head helplessly. " I have been talking to the Joint Chiefs about it, seeing as we have a direct involvement in this." He looked at Carter sympathetically as all color drained from her face. "That’s right Major," he said gently. " Colonel O’Neill and Cassandra Fraiser are among the missing. Doctor’s Fraiser and Jackson are safe." He turned back to a patient Van Ryn. " As for the damage? See for yourself." He clicked on the television.

Five minutes later, they had more of an idea of the magnitude of the disaster, and Hammond switched off the TV with a snap.

" I am going to need everything we have got," Van Ryn said, obviously still shaken by what he had seen.

Van Ryn nodded curtly. " Glad to have you. Your scientific expertise may prove invaluable."

" Major Johnston at the academy would be a welcome addition as well,Kyle said quietly. "He is lecturing the cadets on crush trauma." He shrugged, studiously avoiding Carter’s eyes. "If we find Colonel O’Neill, he and any other Doctor in his field he can think of would be welcome."

" Begging pardon sir’s," Sergeant Malone, one of SG5’s two paramedics asked. " I just would like to know who will be in charge of this. The military or the civilians."

" The military, son," Hammond said. " Colonel Van Ryn in particular." He nodded to the tall Minnesotan. "The Navy acknowledges that they have no unit with as much hands on experience as you do, and the civilians definitely don’t. You will meet up with Doctor Jackson who is coordinating the rescue effort and take charge when you arrive."

" Doctor Jackson? Begging the General’s pardon, but Jackson is a civilian. He may know more about S & R than the average man on the street, but if they find out he isn’t Air Force…"

" Oh, but he is," General Hammond said with thin smile. "He told me of his situation when he phoned for help, and I have just cleared this with the Joint Chiefs. Here, hold out your hand."

Mystified, Kyle did as asked, only to have a pair of gold oak leaves placed in his palm.

" For the foreseeable future, Doctor Jackson has been conscripted into the Air Force in the rank of Major." He patted Kyle on his shoulder. " Be a good man and give the good doctor his leaves, and for goodness sake, make sure he puts them on correctly."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack had been aware that someone had been calling his name for a while now, but had been too weak to reply. Unfortunately, consciousness was slowly beginning to creep back in, and with it the pain.

Suddenly he was fully conscious, as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water in his face.

She was crying now. Deep heartrending sobs that made him wish desperately that he could get to her and hold her tight.

He wanted to say ‘promise’, but knew that would be a lie. He was flat on his back, a slab of what looked like concrete pressing against his chest, making breathing difficult. His hands were crushed under him, and from the amount of pain they were in, were probably broken. It was dark, the air was acrid, and he knew he was in deep shit.

Maybe, although he would surely remember being entombed under God knows how many tons of concrete, unable to move.

Grinning upwards, he attempted to move his feet, only to cease with a sharp hiss. Yep, they were probably broken too. Typical. Ah well. If he was going to die, at least he was home.

"… Then the roof just caved in, just like that." Cassie was prattling on, her voice faint in relief, and Jack allowed her to.

" I am going to try and move the bricks and stuff between you and me. Hopefully things are not so bad."

He stared up at what had to be the ceiling of the tunnel they had been walking up, now a couple of inches from his face, and listened to Cassie digging. Occasionally she gave a ladylike grunt as obviously she moved something heavy.

" Sorry," he said, wondering if he should tell her about the concrete slab now. If that shifted, he was dead. " I’m completely trapped."

She sighed and he visualized her, hand on hips. " Okay then, I’ll just have to do things myself."

He grunted, feeling faint. It was comforting to hear the regular tinkling scrape as whatever Cassandra was using hit against the ground. He was in no illusions that she could move him, but maybe she could reach under the slab and fish out his cellphone.

" Yes," she said quietly. " It’s coming through the small gaps in the concrete above my head. If you can see that, then I must be getting close."

For a moment, he was silent, wondering just how precarious Cassie’s position was in relation to his own.

" I have a broken arm, and have been in better situations," she said with a small laugh, "but at the moment I’m okay."

" That’s good," he said with a sigh. Himself dying he could accept. Cassie dying was intolerable.

" Don’t worry about it," he said softly. "I’ll stand a little pain just to see you again."

He fell silent, content to let her carefully scrape around his body until he was mostly uncovered. It was then, once Cassie had done what she could, that the true awfulness of his situation became apparent to her.

" Yes pumpkin," he said, glad that the diffused light allowed him to see her face.

" Why didn’t you tell me?" Her tears were falling again, making him ache to hold her.

He snorted. " We all die Cassie. Hell, you die. I die. None of us will live forever."

" Apart from Selmac," she said quietly, brushing his hair back from his forehead, just like her mom did. "He just might."

" Unca Jack?" she asked tremulously, placing a finger on his neck. To her relief, he still had a pulse, but it seemed too quick for her liking.

She looked towards the far roof, the tears falling in earnest now. " Please mom. I need you."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The helicopter clattering down in the parking lot outside the makeshift morgue went unnoticed at first by Fraiser and her mixed team of Air Force/Navy medics. It was only when she heard the familiar voice of Teal’c that she realized that General Hammond was aware of the situation and had hopefully sent help.

She hastily stepped back from the body they were trying to ID and pulled off her latex gloves.

Samantha Carter turned to her friend, waving Teal’c and the others to go on without her.

Janet shook her head, despairingly. " It’s been eight hours now, and there is still no word." She ducked as the first of the helicopters ferrying SG units arrived from Cheyenne Mountain, stirring ash and concrete dust. " I’m beginning to lose hope," she yelled.

Sam waved at Major Ferretti as he jumped down from the helicopter, indicating for him to wait, and then turned back to her friend.

" We’ll find them," she said fiercely. " We’ll find them, and more importantly, we’ll find them alive."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Daniel was perched high off of the ground on a huge tower of concrete, his one arm wrapped securely around one of the thick steel metal supports, his face an intense study of concentration as he listened for the faint cries of survivors.

Figuring that the local hospitals could do more for the living than she could, Janet had set up a makeshift morgue on the parking lot, and he and his men had been sending her bodies as fast as they could find them. Old and young, uniformed and civilian, the disaster had killed them just the same, making their work a heartbreaking one.

Despite not having any insignia on his BDU’s, the survivors had accepted that he was some sort of senior officer, and he had used this power to his full advantage.

He had set up three teams of six people, one person from each unit armed with a bucket of paint from the now ruined construction site on the far side of the parking lot.

Their job had been simple, he had told the eighteen willing volunteers. They were to walk, or climb forwards slowly, listening closely to the ruins under their feet. Every ten steps they were to stop and yell as loud as they could. If they had an answering yell from somebody inside the ruins, they were to paint a large circle on the concrete or whatever where the victim was heard, denoting a live body.

Under no circumstances were they to attempt to dig the victims out themselves, no matter how traumatic the situation seemed. They had neither the skills or the knowhow, and could conceivably do more damage than good in their attempt, like make the ruins shift even further, crushing whomever they were rescuing.

He had emphasized that their job was primarily that of locators, and that the more skilled Search and Rescue teams were already en-route.

So far, his three squads of rescuers had identified over twenty people trapped alive under the rubble. Not a bad haul for people using only their ears. The ruins were beginning to take on a macabre festive air, what with bright yellow and red paint daubed everywhere.

Daniel snapped his head around and down to see Colonel van Ryn and Major Kyle standing at the base of his tower.

" Yessir," Daniel muttered, and slid down the concrete like a slide, reflecting with relief that General Hammond had obviously briefed SG5 on the situation.

Van Ryn gave him a thin smile. " Tell me all, Jackson, starting with you parking your car."

Daniel spent the next ten minutes briefing the two officers, sometimes having to yell as helicopter after helicopter arrived, turning the ruins of the stadium into an armed camp. The military were taking over, obviously by Presidential decree, and he sighed. He was a civilian, which meant his days were numbered. The mere fact that he was a member of SG1 would cut no ice with these people.

Van Ryn was a skilled interviewer, and soon had all the facts that Daniel possessed, and some he never even knew he had.

" You did well, Major," he said approvingly. " We have the rest of SG1, as well as SG units 2,5,8 and 12 here, as well as four units of marines coming in from Bragg as we speak. He hesitated, staring at the ruins surrounding them. "If they are alive, we will find them, Daniel," he said at last.

Van Ryn treated him to an icy dose of light blue eyes. " That too, Major," he said sharply. "There are no guarantees in this life. You should know that by now."

Whilst Daniel was digesting that, Van Ryn turned to Kyle. " Stay here, give him his leaves, and let him continue," he ordered, and then loped off towards a massive helicopter that was attempting to land in an already overcrowded parking lot.

Whilst he and Jackson had had their differences in the past, he had actually come to like the goofy linguist.

Daniel smiled his thanks at Kyle. " You had better take over my team," he said softly.

" Oh, but you are, Major Dr Jackson," Kyle said with a grin. " You just don’t know it yet."

Daniel stood, flabbergasted, as Kyle attached a shiny gold oak leaf to each shoulder of his BDU’s.

" This is nice," he said eventually, "but you can’t conscript a civilian into the Air Force without their consent."

" You can in a time of war," Kyle said seriously, " and we have been at war since New York."

He stared at the ruins of what used to be a triumph of American engineering, and his face twisted.

" You’re doing good, Jackson. Even Colonel Van Ryn thinks so, which is high praise indeed, so I suggest you continue." With that, he wheeled on his heel and went in search of his own C.O.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Strong arc lamps were bought in; giving the area a strong yellow glow, and brutally bringing home to everyone that this was yet another incomprehensible terrorist attack by persons unknown.

There was devastation everywhere one chose to look, extending from the stadium on to the surrounding buildings, who either had all their windows blown out, or were completely destroyed, like a car dealership and the construction site.

Thankfully, the bomb, or bombs had gone off on a Sunday, when most of the offices were shut, or the death toll could conceivably have been far higher than it was.

Nevertheless, it was considerable, and was mounting with every passing hour, making Daniel fear for the life of Cassie and his best friend.

He was everywhere, urging his mismatched teams of locators on. He was always close by to offer encouragement when they became despondent, and gently chiding them when they flagged.

He knew that his relentless activity was worrying Teal’c and Carter, but was totally unable to help himself.

Eventually it was Colonel Van Ryn himself, who climbed down from where he was supervising and put a stop to it.

For a moment Daniel thought that he was speaking to someone else, and ignored him, until a lean hand clapped him on his shoulder, stopping him dead.

Now Daniel had his doctorate, and was a linguist par-excellance, but he was tired. Very tired.

Daniel shook his head and looked helplessly at Captain Nell, who looked equally at a loss.

" Eat something, both of you." He glared at them, looking ferocious in the shadowed light. "You have both been at it for twelve hours straight, so I am reliably informed. Now I'm ordering you to take a break." He pushed them gently towards a large mess tent. " Go, eat, refuel, and I’ll see you both in an hour."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The bombing of the Boulder Ice stadium made international headlines, the pictures of the heroic rescuers, including one of Daniel, making the front page of nearly every newspaper in the world.

Instead of being shocked, the American people rallied behind their Armed Forces.

Gifts of food, flowers, and letters of condolence and encouragement were left outside the gates of every base in the country, no matter what type of base it was.

Sophisticated ground penetrating radars were immediately loaned to the Air Force by no less than two prestigious universities, a generosity on par with that of New York over a year ago, and instantly rushed to the area, much to Van Ryn’s pleasure.

They arrived accompanied by CNN and other international news services, desperate to show images of the devastation to the world. Despite the Pentagon’s best efforts, they were everywhere, and the rescuers soon got used to being interviewed by people of the calibre of Christiana Amanpour and Gerald Kessel.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

…" I tell you, when Mrs. Makkie said that I was the clumsiest person ever born on this planet I almost laughed aloud. I just sat there with a smile on my face thinking that if she knew where I had really been born, she most definitely wouldn’t be sneering."

Uncle Jack just stared up at her and coughed. He had been doing that a lot recently, coughing harshly then trying hard not to let her see his pain. She wondered why he even bothered.

She also knew, as she was sure he did, that the ‘golden hour’ had passed, that 1-hour period that the medical profession used to gauge whom would live or die.

If a patient managed to make it to the hospital within that period, they had a good chance of surviving. If they didn’t, then their chances of surviving diminished with each passing hour.

Cassie felt sure that a lot of people had already died by now as she looked down at him.

" Cass…when we get…out of here…go to…Mom or Daniel." He looked up at her, his eyes glazed.

For a moment all she could do was sit and stroke his face, the silent tears streaming down hers and wonder at the unfairness of life. He was a decent man, a good man, and deserved more from life than this.

" Tell her yourself," she said, suddenly furious. How could he give up? How could he?

That was something she couldn’t accept. " You bastard," she screamed, beside herself.

He smiled at her, his expression wry. " I don’t…" he tried to moisten his lips. "Cass, I don’t…like the idea either, but I’m running out of options here"

She was about to answer when seemingly out of nowhere; they heard the sound of voices.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Daniel emerged from the mess tent, Nell by his side to see one of his team racing towards him.

"Major, Captain, sirs. Major Kyle says you must come right now. He says that they have found Colonel O’Neill."

Daniel fairly raced to a pile of concrete just like any other pile scattered over the area.

In fact, he was sure that he had been over this particular spot at least a dozen times already, making the hairs at the back of his neck rise. To think that he had clambered over what could be Jack O’Neill’s…

Van Ryn looked up from where someone was cutting through metal in a shower of golden sparks.

" Jackson." He nodded towards their feet. " Someone is definitely alive down there, and it sounds like Cassandra."

" Has anyone told Janet?" Daniel eventually asked, feeling hypnotized by the steady stream of sparks the man was making.

He shrugged. " Just in case this isn’t her daughter. I don’t want to install hope where there isn’t any to be had."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

For Cassandra huddled below, every second was sheer torture. She could hear a lot of voices now, and the sound of what seemed like a grinding machine as whoever it was tried to make their way to her.

The problem was, the noise and vibrations were thrumming through the concrete, making her fear for Jack’s life. If that concrete block shifted…

" If it shifts… it shifts," he whispered philosophically. " I have had a good life…"

He blinked, lost in recollections. " Well, some parts were shit, but…all in all…"

Cassie nodded, her eyes bright with unshed tears. " All in all, a good life," she whispered in reply, smoothing the matted hair back from his face. " I can’t wait to read all about it in your autobiography,"

He gave a bark of laughter, quickly stifled with an agonized moan. " That will be the day. I would be put in Leavenworth before I could even type ‘Chapter one.’

Suddenly a large piece of ceiling slid back, rather like a drain cover, and a familiar voice called down.

She nodded, then caught Jack’s eye. " I have a broken arm, besides that I’m fine, but Uncle Jack’s buried under a concrete block, and it’s killing him." There was no point in putting it any other way.

For a moment there was silence, then his voice came back strongly. " Keep back honey, we’re coming down."

" Oh goodee," Jack muttered, as a whirring sound could be heard. " Zakka to the rescue."

He carefully enfolded her in an embrace as the other man knelt next to uncle Jack, taking all sorts of things from his backpack.

He snorted, sounding like the Jack O’Neill of old. " Don’t kid me, Simms. It kinda hurts when I laugh. You get this concrete block off of me, then tell me that."

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The news that two people had been found alive, one of them a high-ranking officer, was met with incredulous cheers by the people involved in the rescue effort. That they had been found alive gave them new hope that there could be yet still others out there, just waiting to be found.

The sight of Dr Fraiser racing towards where her child was, was met with cheers, and made for great drama, as did the sight of her cuddling her child, her rescuers gathered around her protectively.

What the gathered journalists weren’t aware of yet was the other drama being played out beneath their feet.

The drama of a man stubbornly clinging to life as his friends battled to free him.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassie’s shelter had become somewhat crowded since she had been pulled out, with no less than three burly people crouched down working intently on Jack.

Ideally, he knew that he should be outside, coordinating this rescue from afar, but he just couldn’t leave.

Besides that, Van Ryn was also qualified doctor. Although, in this case, he would let Dr Johnston, the dapper major from the Air Force Academy in ‘Springs take the lead. He had extensive training on how to treat crush victims, something Van Ryn vowed to study as soon as he could.

" We need to get this concrete off of his chest," he murmured, staring critically at the large slab crushing O’Neill. " Yanni, any ideas?"

Sergeant Dimitri Yanni, SG11’s engineer, nodded. " Yes sir. He pointed down at certain sections of the concrete. If we cut here and here we can actually break the slab in two, alleviating the pressure…"

" He doesn’t have a couple of hours," Dr Johnston said quietly. " If we don’t get this slab off of him soon…"

Van Ryn privately agreed. O’Neill’s face had taken on a kind of gaunt flushed look typical to seriously injured crush victims. Despite Johnston’s best efforts, they were in danger of losing him if they didn’t move fast.

" What will happen if we lift this side of the slab?" he said, watching O’Neill closely. The man was plainly fighting to stay conscious, and failing. Occasionally his eyes would flutter shut, before he dragged them open again, blinking rapidly.

"I thought of that sir," Yanni said. "The problem there is the fact that we cannot get anywhere his feet area. If we lift the slab off his chest, we may cause other debris to slide down

Van Ryn grunted. " Say we lift the slab a couple of inches, just enough to alleviate the pressure on his chest, and have other people remove as much debris on top of him as we can. Will that help?"

"That might take a while," Yanni said doubtfully, "but yes, it will most definitely help. Once we know the extent of the concrete slab, we can remove it."

" I think I can stabilize him for a while, maybe a couple of hours. Can your people free him in that time?" Johnston asked

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

It had been a tense half an hour. Despite wanting to be as close to Jack as possible, Daniel knew that they had other priorities.

Priorities like continuing their search for other survivors. Priorities that Jack would never forgive them for if they neglected them, so Daniel, Sam and Teal’c continued helping out as well as they could, whilst casting occasional glimpses towards the small mound underneath where Jack lay.

It was now known that there were at least four separate explosions, remotely detonated, all against support columns under the stadium. Jack and the others hadn’t had a chance. The act of terror had been meticulously thought out and executed, to its horrible end.

" Stay where you are, people" Daniel snapped to his squads, feeling like Jack. "We have more important things to do." He indicated the ruins. " There may yet be other victims lying elsewhere, waiting for us to find them. We cannot afford to concentrate on one area."

He turned back to his sector, pleased to see both Sam and Teal’c race towards Yanni, along with two squads of marines.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Jack stared upwards for a moment, totally disorientated, before the orange lights someone had set up reminded him where he was.

The small man smiled, his eyes kind. " Don’t try to talk. I just wanted to let you know that we should be making it easier for you to breathe in a couple of moments.

" She’s safe," Van Ryn said, squatting down next to his critically injured colleague.

" Good…Dann…?" He coughed, almost sobbing at the pain that small action caused.

" Daniel?" Zack asked, carefully keeping his face expressionless. " He’s outside, helping with the rescue effort. You trained him well.

" Let’s start by lifting the slab," Van Ryn said, looking at Sergeant Yanni. He was positioning a pneumatic ram under the concrete.

The contraption started with a muffled hum, lifting the slab inches at a time. At first, nothing happened, then Jack cried out.

" Give him more," Van Ryn said, noticing how the cords stood out in Jacks neck as he tried to arch in agony.

The workers above their head were attacking the ground furiously with whatever they had.

Buckets, spades, pick axe’s, even their bare hands were used, the dirt fairly flying behind then in their quest to unearth the buried man. Despite it being 04H00 in the morning, they never flagged, toiling on with a single-minded determination.

Eventually the first sight of what trapped Colonel O’Neill was seen, and they stopped digging.

" This is not going to be easy," Sergeant Yanni muttered, squatting at the edge of what had become a deep hole.

He peered at the slab of reinforced concrete dubiously, trying to work out in his mind the best plan of attack. Ideally, he would just cut straight through, but he had a sinking feeling that the solid steel girders embedded in the concrete would thwart the attempt.

Oh sure, they could cut through the steel eventually, but it would take time, time that Colonel O’Neill definitely didn’t have.

He was silent, staring at the concrete, allowing his agile brain to think up and then discard ideas as soon as they came to him, the assembled rescuers still and silent around him, waiting patiently for his plan.

Then he had an idea. It was a long shot, but could conceivably cut their time in half.

" Alright," he shouted, raising himself to his feet. "I want people to completely clear this slab. There mustn’t be one ounce of debris left on top of it."

Yanni shook his head. " I have a lame-brained idea, but it just might work. He headed towards the hole. "Let me run it past Colonel Van Ryn. If he approves, I’ll tell you all about it.

He was deeply unconscious now, and the Colonel knew that the end was close. He sighed and turned his full attention back to the young sergeant.

" I intend drilling two holes into the slab, uncovering the metal reinforcing struts. Once I have done that, I intend hooking them up and using a crane to literally pull the concrete straight off of Colonel O’Neill."

" We have people removing the last of the debris as we speak, sir." Yanni said. "I have people standing by with angle grinders just in case the slab is still attached to something else. All I need is your permission to drill into the concrete."

Van Ryn knew that Sergeant Yanni hadn’t answered his question, not that it mattered one way or the other.

Van Ryn shared a look with Dr Johnston. Both doctors knew that this was O’Neill’s last chance.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Daniel was getting despondent. He wished with every fiber of his being that he was digging right next to Sam and Teal’c, but knew that not everyone could be there.

Gritting his teeth, he continued in his grim task of finding bodies, well aware that Major Kyle was in a similar situation as he. The man also wanted to be there, at his Colonel’s side, and couldn’t be.

" It’s enough to make a puff adder spit," Kyle muttered from behind his mask, uncovering yet another dead victim.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Finally, the engineers were ready, and the crane was painstakingly moved into position.

Teal’c, showing incredible foresight for a Jaffa, had detailed a group of people to help him clear an area for a medical helicopter.

One look at the ebony-skinned man dressed all in black with a green special forces beret pulled down low over his forehead, and nobody had argued.

One had just landed, its rotors slowing to a stop, as Sergeant Yanni, literally hanging onto the crane’s steel cable, was lowered into the hole.

Slowly, inch-by-inch, the crane operator from the ruined construction site did as asked, his face strained. The assembled watchers were silent, and a ghostly hush settled over the devastated area.

In contrast, Colonel Jack Van Ryn and Dr Johnston had their hands full, working with frantic urgency.

The minute they had enough space, Jack was fitted into a cervical collar and carefully rolled onto a backboard. Once that was accomplished, he was hastily dragged into their area of the ruins. It wasn’t that Van Ryn didn’t trust Sergeant Yanni; he just distrusted all types of ‘MacGyvered’ things.

If it was jury-rigged, it was unsafe, and having a block of concrete land on him from a dizzy height would end O’Neill’s illustrious career for sure, if the concrete hadn’t done so already.

The small major nodded soberly. " Count on it, sir," he replied, crouched over his patient protectively.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

" We’re finished," Daniel said with a sigh, keeping a wary eye on the straining crane.

Major Kyle nodded, straightening his aching back. " You’re right. I seriously doubt that there is anyone else alive." He nodded towards the crane. "Shall we go and join them?"

They were just in time to see the thick piece of blackened concrete lifted over the lip of the hole and gently deposited on the ground to one side.

The minute there was enough space; two paramedics had rolled under the concrete and dropped out of sight, only to reappear minutes later with a sight the rescuers had all been working towards, the stretchered form of Jack O’Neill.

As the medical helicopter spooled up, there was pandemonium as every voice screamed out in relief.

Now it was up to the medical profession, and the determination of one Colonel Jack O’Neill.

As to whether he was going to stay alive was anyone’s guess, but they had not yet done all that they were able to and immediatly turned back to their work.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

A pretty young nurse, obviously detailed to look after him, fluffed up his pillows, then frowned.

Jack O’Neill merely blinked and let it ride. He had had that infernal tube taken out of his throat an hour ago, and was still getting used to breathing on his own. Speaking was obviously still out of the question.

Jack nodded, and the nurse pulled back the heavy drapes, allowing the strong sunshine to stream in.

‘"Call if you…" the nurse hesitated, then smiled at her stupidity. " I’ll come in and check on you in a couple of hours, okay?"

Jack nodded; content to stare out at the sunshine. He had been doing that a lot recently, being unable to do anything else. He had no idea where he was, apart from this being a military hospital, and up until now couldn’t even ask.

" Geez mom, why does he have so many bandages around him? He looks just like a mummy."

" Don’t say that," came the amused voice of Janet Fraiser, " You know how he hates to be compared to the ancient Egyptians."

"Whilst it was true that the priests of the false gods were sometimes wrapped like O’Neill, I scarcely believe they used this method whilst still alive."

" His bones are broken," came the amused voice of Samantha Carter. " All over the place. That’s why he is trussed up like he is."

" My nose itches," he said plaintively, opening his eyes. Actually, it didn’t, but it was worth it to see his team, Janet, and Cassandra smile

" Welcome back Colonel," Carter said softly with what he swore were tears in her eyes.

Teal’c shifted his bulk, making the dainty plastic chair he was sat on creak alarmingly.

" Whilst this is true," he said seriously, "I scarcely see why this would prevent you from death."

Jack stared at him incredulously for a moment before a surprised guffaw burst out from between his lips, making him groan in agony.

" You are also one of the most famous people on this planet", a voice said from next to his head.

" Yes?" the voice said. " Does your nose really itch?" A khaki clad arm appeared in front of his face and rubbed his nose vigorously. " That better?"

" Much," Jack said dryly, blinking the tears out of his eyes. " What are you doing way up there? Come down and sit where I can see you."

" If you insist," the disembodied voice said. Daniel appeared and snagged the chair next to Teal’c.

" There, that’s better," Jack said. " It’s not that I don’t mind you sat next to my left ear, it’s just that I can’t move my head that far and…good grief. What are you wearing?"

" Oh these little things?" Daniel said, self-consciously fingering the oak leaves on his shoulders.

" Yes, those little things." Jack glared at Dr Fraiser. " Precisely how long have I been out of it?" he asked her accusingly.

" Ten days," she said with a grin, " and as for Daniel? He’s had those since day one."

" Ah, he used the article 17 subsection B on you," Jack murmured. " In times of war an all that."

He ignored the funny looks his team was giving him. He never said that he was stupid when it came to military matters.

Jack frowned swiftly. " This is not good," he murmured. "The SGC doesn’t need any type of publicity.

" Don’t worry," Janet said with a sad smile. " Colonel Tom Collins, the NORAD officer we pulled out with my daughter ten days ago, regretfully succumbed to his injuries. The Pentagon and others are using his death as a rallying cry to unite the country behind them in their quest for, hopefully, justice, and not vengeance."

" Sorry Colonel, but the only place you’re going to, is Academy General, where you will stay until I say so," Fraiser said softly, ushering the others towards the door.

" We are at war as well," she said softly when he grimaced. " The obvious war is here, but there is another war out there, and that is where you are needed, Colonel.

Blimey! Wow! I can't say any more just yet because I read it in just about 30 seconds! Now I have to go back and read it again, slowwwwly, but due to only having 4 hours sleep in the last 48, (night duty, kids etc.) I have to wait until I can see it properly, but WoW!!!

Terror in Boulder was great--I enjoyed the relationship of Jack and Cassie. Actually, I love all your stories and check your website regularly. Thanks for your efforts and keep up the great work!.