Episode Four - The Cult of Lillith

[Chicago "Roo" Eastlyn]

1554
Inside the National Museum
Balad, Iraq
Earth

...we'd have to go through Fallujah

The words were looping over and over in Chicago's head and she struggled to understand why she was so worked up about it. Not that long ago she'd been flying around in a jumper attacking hostile aliens outside her new Altantis-esque home for goodness sake. Trying her damndest to not let it show on her face how much this new piece of information had thrown her, Roo looked over at Evans and managed get out "Keep an eye on all this for a minute, yeah?", just barely waiting to see his affirmative nod before she turned her back to the others and walking a few steps away into a slightly shadowed corner so they couldn't see her on the edge of flat spinning. She really needed to keep it together - saying that now was so not the time to turn tail and run was the understatement of the year.

Desperate to calm down and regain control of herself, thoughts of her uncle came to mind. He was why she'd joined the Air Force, he was who she strove to be - a person full of dignity, honour and integrity. She wasn't on the road to any of those things with the way she was going right this second. Fear was a funny thing, it could contort your perspective and turn you into a totally different person, depending on the circumstances. Her uncle had always told Chicago to never let the fear take root. When it hits, you let it take over, but only for 5 seconds. You let that fear have its time, and you tell yourself that when those seconds are done, you won't be afraid anymore. So here she was, standing in a corner of a museum in Iraq and counting to five.

After she'd counted the five, Roo took a deep breath and scrubbed her hands over her face. Everything would be fine. No more fear clouding her brain meant that she could think clearer now too, allowing her to realise that she'd never been in a situation where she'd be protecting herself from people from her own planet. Anyone she'd ever drawn a weapon on before was an alien of some description - before being invited to the Stargate program, she'd been solely in Intel roles. There wasn't really anything she could do about it but understanding why she had subconsciously started freaking out made Roo feel better, so she righted herself and turned to rejoin her team, not mentioning anything about "stepping out".

She couldn't help but smile at Ahrima's no nonsense approach - if only it were that simple. "I'm not entirely sure how that'll pan out for us, but obviously we need a game plan. Get ready to roll out, we're heading back to the Air Base." Stepping away from her team and into the office that Daniel and Tariq were speaking in, she gave a nod in greeting to the latter and an apologetic look to them both. "In light of the information you've given us, Tariq - and thank you for that" she said sincerely, " - we really need to head back. Is there anything else you need from here Dr. Jackson?" Chicago didn't want them spending any longer out here than they needed to, her team needed some semblance of rest, and she needed to update General Conway on what they had learned and then figure out how to pass through Fallujah without major incident or injury.
Piece of cake.

<Dominic Evans, Maggie Lefebvre, Ahrima, Daniel Jackson, Zachary Acker, @errybodyyyy>

[Jason Conway]

1556
Iraqi National Museum
Balad, Iraq
Earth

"In light of the information you've given us, Tariq - and thank you for that - we really need to head back. Is there anything else you need from here Dr. Jackson?"
Major Eastlyn inquired, poking her head into the office Daniel and Tariq were sharing.
"Uh, no, I'll be right out." Replied Daniel, concealing his sadness that he couldn't spend more time here discovering the secrets buried within the museum's vaults. Still, they had a job to do. Tariq had hastily scribbled down the code for the container they needed and handed the piece of paper to Jackson, which he briefly read and placed neatly in his pocket. Daniel exhaled a forceful breath. He wanted to be able to tell his old friend just how important this information was, just how much was potentially at stake here. He wanted to tell him that the tablets HAD been translated and that, if they contained notes on Lillith's work, they could save lives on planets across two galaxies. Instead, he settled for,
"Tariq, Thank you. You've no idea how much you've helped."

The Museum Director walked with his friend and their armed escort down to the front steps of the building. Major Eastlyn had begun ordering her team back into the vehicles as quickly as possible, huddling the other civilian scientists safely inside. Maggie quickly assumed the driver's seat on the second vehicle while Zach took shotgun this time, Eastlyn gestured that she and Daniel would be sharing the rear seats. Ahrima, Evans and Pandora made their way toward the third vehicle while the soldiers loaded themselves back into the vanguard hummer. Daniel shook hands once more with Tariq,
"Give my best to your family." He told him sincerely. Tariq held the handshake a little longer than usual. Daniel noticed that he had tears in his eyes.

"Goodbye, old friend." He choked, before releasing the handshake. Jackson nodded, it was all he could think to do before climbing into the rear seat of the middle vehicle. As the vehicles pulled away from the curb, Daniel took a moment to consider the Museum's future and Tariq's future for that matter. He couldn't blame the man for being so emotional. With the current regime in place it might soon be the end of an Era, Tariq had a family to provide for and his livelihood was being-

"S**T! I.E.D!" bellowed the Sergeant over the comms link, "GO, GO, GO!" An explosion rocked the vehicle, lifting the rear end and slamming Daniel's head into the seat in front. Maggie instinctively slammed her foot on the accelerator, following the Sergeant's orders, only to come screeching to a halt as the front vehicle swerved and flipped over in front of them. It all seemed to happen in slow motion and Daniel's vision was swimming, a truck was blocking the road ahead. He watched as the vanguard vehicle left the ground completely before landing on it's roof. His ears were ringing, everything sounded muted, all the screaming and panic surrounding him was muffled. Daniel turned to look back at the Museum. All he could make out through the thick, black smoke was a severed leg and a charred, unidentifiable heap on the steps... Exactly where Tariq had been standing.

Daniel had only a split second to consider who the intended target of the ambush had been before a second impact threw him out of his seat - and into unconsciousness.

<Tag Dominic Evans>

[Dominic Evans]

1556
Iraqi National Museum
Balad, Iraq
Earth

Evans smiled as Major Eastlyn passed him on their way back out to the vehicles. It was a poor effort, he thought, but perhaps knowing your team had full confidence in you could help you deal with bad news and difficult decisions. As the team filed out of the building, Evans sidled past Jackson saying goodbye to Tariq and down to the third and rear-most vehicle. Pandora Banks had already settled herself back in, having had a chance to view some of the information in the Museum herself. He nodded to Ahrima to take the passenger side as Evans clambered into the driving seat himself. The vanguard full of soldiers began to pull away from the Museum, Evans started the engine on his and glanced over at Tariq, who was stood on the steps looking forlornly at his feet.

"S**T! I.E.D!" Came the call over the radio. A bright ball of flame replaced the spot where Tariq stood. Dominic didn't have time to swear, he shoved the transmission into reverse and pushed his foot to the floor. The Humvee angrily accelerated back away from the flame as the shock wave of the blast lifted the front end temporarily, throwing all three of them back against their seats. The explosion meant Dom's ears were ringing, he could feel the heat even through the newly cracked windshield. The blast was quickly replaced by thick black smoke, the Museum steps had been disintegrated into a pile of rubble.

Evans immediately got out of his vehicle, ignoring shouts of protest from the other occupants. He began racing forward as fast as he could, noticing the other two vehicles stopped the other side of the blast radius. A lorry had pulled across the road, just before it was the soldier's vehicle on it's roof. As he got near the scene he slowed to survey the scene, he could see the driver, Sergeant Borkowski, upside down strapped into the seat. The airbag had gone off and deflated, blood splatters on the white fabric. Borkowski, blood oozing from his ears and nose, was screaming at the top of his voice, "HELP! HELP!". Next to him on the passenger's side, a metal rod was jutting through the windscreen, blood seeping out around the impact hole. Dominic suddenly felt very cold. He began to shake uncontrollably, he tried to suppress it and still himself but found that he couldn't. Then he noticed a second lorry racing up the street adjacent to them, directly in line with the side of Eastlyn's vehicle carrying Jackson, Zach and Maggie.
"NO!" was all he could scream at the top of his voice, extending a hand pathetically as the lorry smashed into the side of the Humvee, sending it careening sideways into the wall of the Museum.

Dominic saw figures, dressed all in black, emerging from the rubble near the first vehicle. He suddenly became very aware that he'd left his G36 back in the Humvee. Frantically, he began to draw his pistol. The familiar pop and hiss of two smoke grenades being set off could be heard. Dom aimed his pistol into the increasing cloud of smoke in front of him, but he'd lost sight of the figures. He kept the pistol aimed, pointing to and fro, now aware that Ahrima had joined his side. He looked up, the driver's door to the second truck was open and the cab was empty. They heard four gunshots in rapid succession from within the smoke cloud. Damnit, he cursed under his breath before running into the smoke. Evans got Humvee Two as fast as he could, but it was too late. All four doors were open... And nobody was inside. He looked to Humvee One... Borkowski had stopped screaming too. All four of the soldiers were dead. He turned back to the lorry, desperately searching for the shadowy figures, but they were nowhere to be found. He turned back to face Ahrima. Evans dropped to his knees and let the pistol slide away from him, defeated.

<Tag Ahrima Maggie Lefebvre and Chicago "Roo" Eastlyn for the last posts!>

[Ahrima]

1556
Iraqi National Museum
Balad, Iraq
Earth

"S**T! I.E.D!"

This was actually a Tau'ri acronym that she was familiar with. Captain Evans seemed to react instinctively and quickly put the humvee that Evans along with Ahrima and Doctor Banks were occupying. His acceleration in reverse cleared them from the immediate blast radius, but the vehicle still felt some of the force as the vehicle rocked backwards and threw its occupants into their seats. As Ahrima opened her eyes, she could see through the cracked windshield the fiery remains of the explosive device. It seemed to be right near the spot that Tariq had stood, and yet there was no sign of the man. It seemed rather evident to Ahrima what his fate had been.

However, her attention was quickly absorbed by the sight before her. As the lead vanguard vehicle was knocked completely off of its wheels and then watched as a truck crashed into the immobilized vehicle. Captain Evans was already outside of his truck and moving towards the carnage. Ahrima could hear Doctor Banks calling for him and joined in trying to capture his attention. "Captain Evans!" she called, however the man was clearly focused on the scene before him. "Remain in the vehicle, Doctor Banks," said Ahrima, "and remain out of sight." Ahrima proceeded to hand her the side arm weapon that she had as she exited the vehicle.

Ahrima's training kicked in, and she quickly began to survey the scene. However, she wasn't initially focused on their immediate surroundings. Her eyes turned skywards looking for support from higher ground. This was clearly a coordinated attack, and tactically, it made sense to have eyes on the scene from above. There was a bit of movement that captured Ahrima's attention as a weapon appeared to be trained on Evans' position. Ahrima quickly took aim and fired. She watched as her bullets met their target and the man keeled over. Though, her achievement was quickly met with a rain of bullets from the opposite side. Ducking for cover, Ahrima waited for a pause in the assault and then quickly raised and took aim. After a brief exchange, the weapons fire ceased.

Ahrima's attention turned back towards Captain Evans just as a second truck struck the vehicle that contained Daniel Jackson and the rest of SM-1, driving them into the side of the museum. Ahrima quickly moved to converge on Evans' position. Even as he fired into the smoke, she arrived at his side, but soon the vision became to obscured, and it seemed to be more of a threat to those they were attempting to protect should they keep firing. However, as they progressed forward, they soon saw that the vehicle containing their friends was empty. They were all gone: Major Eastlyn, Daniel Jackson, Dr. Ackerman and Maggie. Upon turning to inspect the occupants of the vanguard vehicle, it was quickly evident that they were all deceased. Ahrima watched as Dominic fell to his knees. She wasn't sure if it was grief or the guilt of failure that had overtaken him, but felt it necessary to speak nonetheless. His current demeanor would do nothing to amend the situation. "Arise, Captain Evans," said Ahrima. "It is highly likely that the rest of our comrades still live. Otherwise, they would have been killed on sight." Ahrima let out a long breath and then extended her hand to help Evans to his feet. Their friends were targeted, which meant time was of the essence. Because it was only a matter of time before they outlived their usefulness.

TAG: SM-1

[Maggie Lefebvre]

1550-1556
Some boring museum
Balad, Iraq

Maggie could FEEL Ahrima watching her, and the woman's disgust. It's wasn't Maggie's FAULT, though. It was the stupid French Navy-they'd grounded a pilot. All Maggie wanted to do was FLY. She wasn't cut out for regimental combat, she preferred the thrill of dogfighting. And she was GOOD at it. That, and distraction. Which is what Maggie would've done, if SHE were in charge. Dr. Jackson was nice enough by all accounts, but really, if all you needed was a Gate address, and the target you needed it FROM was male, might as well just flash them your boobs and mutter things in French. Worked for HER, anyway-she almost ALWAYS got what she wanted when she did that.

Finally, they were heading out-seemingly to Fallujah. Yeah, with a metric ton of American's. Riiight. Maybe she could steal a scarf from a nearby Bazaar and pretend she was Bridgette Bardot for a bit. Iraqi's held the French in SLIGHTLY higher esteem than her new Contiential BFFs...right? She wracked her brain-Mike and his guys had mentioned something about the French pulling out of Iraq in the early days, before they made even bigger enemies than the blasted Germans. So yeah, she was pretty sure that she wasn't as hated as the rest of the crew. Still, how to play that?! Mike would've arranged a convoy...but then, he was an INTERPOL agent, and this was military. Damn it.

With a long suffering sigh, she climbed once more into the Jeep and set out for the deep deserts of Iraq. Just a few moments out, and voice came over the Comms.

S**T! I.E.D!" She pushed the accelerator, damning the small engine of the puny car. If this had been Dassault-Breguet Super, she'd have floored it, dropped a weapon, and hauled her blonde six back to the carrier. She came to a stop near the other vehicle in their caravan, but too late. The museum was dessimated, and where the Nerd Leader had stood was now just black smoke. Why did the proverbial s*it hit the fan when SHE was in the driver's seat?! She hit the steering wheel-now what? A moment later, her ears were ringing, and she was being grabbed by something-scratch that-someone. She fought her way out of it, fumbling for her weapon, but it was futile. She was seeing black-and she realized it was a hood. Great. So now her hair was going to be mussed. Let them take her-Maggie was about 99% sure that whomever these people were, they'd get a load of the mess that was Maggie Lefebvre, and PAY the French government to recover her sorry six. She looked to the right, and then the left, futiley. Finally, she spoke out, in frustration.

Pouvez-vous prendre cette chose hors ? Je peux ne pas respirer ... She hoped to hell that the French were less hated than Americans.

Tag: Who's last? Oh, me. Oops. Thurr.

[Chicago "Roo" Eastlyn]

1556
Balad, Iraq
Earth

“S**T! I.E.D!”
No.
No, no, no, no.
Roo instantly flicked her attention from the people inside their car, to out the window, just in time to see Tariq hit. Oh lord, poor Tariq. He so wanted to help them and now, this...
Maggie gunned the engine, only to slam on the breaks as the vanguard vehicle was hit. The explosion was throwing the humvee around and Chicago's head thwacked into the back of the seat in front of her, pulling an involuntary pained cry from her throat. Fighting unconciousness and a nice case of blurry vision, she turned her head in what seemed like slow motion to face Dr. Jackson as she called his name. Her voice sounded funny to her ears but she simply frowned and continued on. ”Are you alright?” By the looks of him, he'd hit his head also and her question was rather pointless but it was more about getting a response from him than anything else. Her hand went to the place where her forehead was throbbing, right above her eyebrow, and found blood. Knowing that head wounds usually bleed a lot worse than they actually are, she simply gave a half-hearted attempt at wiping the sticky stuff away so it didn't get in her eyes before she realised she hadn't gotten a response back from Jackson.

Before she had time to prompt the good doctor for an answer though, a second impact flung their vehicle into motion again, and then stopped again as the opposite side of the car collided with what Roo could only assume was the Museum they had just left.

Lifting her weapon from her lap as best she could feeling as lightheaded as she did, Roo only managed to fire one shot in the general direction of the footsteps now approaching them before black overtook her vision and she was out.

-------------------------

Time Unknown
Location Unknown

Her mouth felt dry as she came to, and her head was pounding like you wouldn't believe. Willing herself to open her eyes, Chicago realised that they were actually already open, but she had some kind of black hood or something over her head effectively rendering her unable to see.

Minutes passed in silence as she was wary to say anything or alert anyone to her being awake until she knew who else might be in the room with her (“What happened to Evans, Ahrima and Banks? Did they get away?”, who they were taken by and why. No sooner had Chicago wondered if the others were in here with her than she heard Maggie's voice. ”Pouvez-vous prendre cette chose hors ? Je peux ne pas respirer ...” Well at least she knew one person from her team was relatively okay. ”Don't say anything!” Her voice came out a little gravelly initially, but after that it was fine. ”Just, don't speak,” She didn't even use Maggie's name, not wanting to volunteer any information, even if whoever had taken them already knew it.

Near silent footsteps approached and stopped before where she sat on her knees on the ground, and a moment later, her hood was yanked off. The absence of the material made nearly no difference to her vision, seeing as the room itself appeared to be extremely dark with only a very small grate in the far wall to let any kind of light in. Though she refused to give their captors the satisfaction of her asking, one question resounded in her mind.
Where in the hell are we?

<tag: Jason Conway >

[Jason Conway]

END OF EPISODE.

(And what a thrilling read these four pages were! Wow... First time I've re-read an entire thread all throughout. See you all in Episode Five for the conclusion)