He did, scrambling to his feet as Makepeace took a step backward.

"You can't hold them all!"

"You better hope I can." He tightened his finger on the trigger. "Now run!"

He opened fire, sweeping backward and forward across the Jaffa as he slowly retreated, Maybourne sprinting for the tunnel behind him. Then he heard Booker and Jefferson open up. He hoped they'd taken cover in the tunnel entrance, but couldn't look around to see.

The Jaffa scattered under the onslaught, diving for cover, and Makepeace could feel the cold of the tunnel at his back. He'd made it. But, at the last moment, a staff blast came blazing from somewhere on his left and clipped his arm. He yelled, the force of the blast spinning him around, and he fell hard onto the ground. Something popped in his left knee, pain shooting up all the way into his gut.

"Colonel!" Jefferson called.

He tried to stand.

"Stay down!"

Pressed into the dirt, he watched as another grenade flew overhead, impacting almost before it hit the ground.

And then Booker grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet with one hand and firing with the other as he half dragged him into the tunnel. At the far end, light spilled from the complex but the huge blast doors were already closing.

"Come on, sir," Booker said, as Jefferson grabbed his other arm. "We can make it."

For a moment, Makepeace almost felt worthy of these brave men's loyalty. But then he saw Maybourne darting past the closing doors, running ahead of them into the safety of the SGC, and he remembered the truth.

He'd betrayed these people. He didn't deserve anything from them.

It felt like they'd been walking for hours. No, scratch that. They had been walking for hours, weaving their way through the endless labyrinthine shantytown. If they were following a path, Jack couldn't make out where it went. But Hunter didn't pause, didn't waver, he just kept on going, leading them deeper and deeper into the camp.

Not wanting to stop and eat, Jack had pulled open a breakfast MRE on the road, so to speak, and eaten everything that didn't need rehydrating. He was still working his way through the chocolate chip pastry when Daniel said, "So, Hunter, how big is this place?"

Hunter glanced over his shoulder, gave a shrug. "Maybe ten miles across?"

"Ten miles?" Daniel echoed in surprise.

"Big," Jack agreed, but he'd seen that from the mountainside on the way down. The camp was vast.

"Most folk live on the boundary, near the feeding stations. But we're heading deep, to the Way Back."

He'd heard the name before - it's where the kids had come from - and he felt a clutch of guilt at the memory of sending them back there alone. But what else could he do? He couldn't offer them any safety. "The Way Back is the interior?" he said. "The center of the camp?"

Hunter nodded. "Way back from the ship," he explained.

"Safer?"

"Ain't nowhere that's safer," Hunter said, and walked on.

Reaching for his canteen to wash down the cloying taste of the pastry, he took a long swallow and then wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Daniel was frowning as he walked along next to him, his features contracted into an expression that usually meant he was puzzling over a particularly intractable problem. Jack nudged him. "What?"

"Huh?" Daniel said, looking up. "What?"

"You're thinking."

"Uh, yeah?"

When he didn't seem about to expand on the point, Jack said, "Care to share?"

"Oh. Uh, I was just -" He gestured toward Hunter and dropped his voice. "He said this place was ten miles across."

"Yeah? It's big."

"No. I mean, yes it's big, but miles?"

Jack shook his head, genuinely confused. "I don't follow."

From behind him, Carter said, "I think Daniel's talking about the unit of measurement, sir, rather than the actual distance."

"Exactly," Daniel said, still talking quietly. "Since when have the Goa'uld used 'miles'?"

Jack lifted an eyebrow. "You think the Goa'uld went metric?"

"No, the point is -"

"I get the point." He threw a glance at Hunter. "He is a fake Jaffa, remember?"

"I guess," Daniel said. "It's just unusual -"

Just then Hunter stopped suddenly, turning to face them with excitement in his eyes, and for a moment Jack was struck by just how young he was. Early twenties, maybe? "We're here," Hunter said, arms spread wide.

Jack glanced at the tumbledown shacks all around them, at the people crouching in the doorways, watching them as they cooked over meager fires. No different to anywhere else in this place. "I was expecting something... bigger," he said.

With a cryptic smile, Hunter only said, "Follow, but don't say nothing. I'll speak for you." Then he turned and slipped behind a wooden panel that was propped up against a stub of crumbling wall not much more than six feet tall.

"I do not believe we will find any a.s.sistance here," Teal'c said in disdain. "This is not the abode of any First Prime."

Jack had to agree and even Carter looked a little crestfallen. Only Daniel's optimism remained intact.

"Come on, Teal'c," he said, pushing past him to follow Hunter. "You know what they say about good things and small packages."

"I do not."

"Oh. Well, Jack can explain," Daniel said, and ducked under the planking after Hunter.

Jack threw up his hands. "Don't look at me. I don't know anything about small packages."

That earned him a snort from Carter and a dubious eyebrow lift from Teal'c, and he had to bite back a smile as he waved them both toward the entrance. "Come on, let's keep Danny outa trouble."

If he'd been expecting something grander inside, he'd have been disappointed. The shack looked pretty similar to Hunter's own - small, cramped and with a smoky fire - except that it also came with three other fake Jaffa hanging out inside. With the four of SG-1 crammed in as well, it was downright cozy. If this was Dix and the resistance they'd had one h.e.l.l of a wasted trip.

"You can't bring strangers here," one of the men said, getting to his feet. He was big, with a bullish face. Trouble, Jack thought, and let his hands come to rest on his weapon.

"Dix'll wanna want to see these folk," Hunter insisted. "This one?" He gestured to Teal'c. "He wears the mark of Apophis."

The other man's eyes lifted to Teal'c's face, where the firelight made the gold of his brand glimmer. He frowned and then turned back to Hunter. "Where d'you find them?"

"In the larder."

He grunted. "Heard you'd been s.n.a.t.c.hed."

"And freed." He brushed his hand over the top of his right arm and said, "You see what they wear."

The big guy looked and so did all the others. His eyes widened for a moment before his expression crashed down into a frown. "Take 'em in."

"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 d.a.m.n 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 s.p.a.ce. 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."

"Bulls.h.i.t."

"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 bas.e.m.e.nt?" Jack said, flinging a doubtful look at Daniel. Who the h.e.l.l 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 s.p.a.ce was dark and musty, and the dust clogged Sam's throat. She wanted to spit, but Hunter and Colonel O'Neill were below her.

Whatever this place was, it was nothing like any Goa'uld lair SG-1 had previously encountered. Another difference, of course, was that their previous incursions into System Lord territory had usually been covert. Allowing themselves to be led into the HQ of a First Prime could rank as one of the stupidest moves they'd ever made.

But despite her misgivings, Sam knew that they had no choice. According to the colonel, time was not a commodity they had in great store. Something big was happening. She knew better than to press him for information - the way things stood, she wasn't on the need-to-know list - but his word was enough. They needed a way home and they needed it now.

And there was something else that nagged at Sam, one thought that kept repeating in the back of her mind like the line of a tune she'd heard on the radio, seemingly pointless but persistent nonetheless. Something that told her to think about the light.

Sixteen hours thirty and twelve hours twenty. Sixteen. Twelve.

"Teal'c, do you remember how long we walked for that first day here?"

A sudden crash from above sent a shower of debris down on Sam's head. When she looked up, she was alarmed to see Teal'c hanging by one arm from a rung that dangled precariously from the wall. She grabbed his foot to help him find purchase on the ladder again and thanked whatever Jaffa workout had given him his upper body strength.

"You guys ok up there?" called the colonel from somewhere below.

"We're good, sir."

"Teal'c?"

"I am fine, O'Neill. The ladder however has seen better days."

"Yeah, Hunter. Would it kill this Dix guy to get an elevator put in?"