Four appalling hours and in Methos' mind, at least a thousand stomach churning loop the loops later, they landed at a nameless base in London which even he hadn't known existed. And apparently, at least for this mission, neither did they, thanks Jack's preparations. All of which gave Methos a mean case of visa envy. With one set of orders in lieu of a passport O'Neill could go anywhere he pleased, be anyone he pleased and never have to worry about anyone questioning his identity. And as Methos knew very well, no matter how superb the quality of the forgery, there was no Immortal immune to that instant of terror when the customs agent approached. Maybe there was more to this modern military than he'd previously considered?
A car was waiting at the exit and Jack deferred to Methos as he tossed him the keys.
"I hate driving on the wrong side of the road."
"It's the right side."
"No, it's the wrong side."
"No, it the right side." As Jack frowned Methos smiled and added, "As compared to the left side, of course."
"Whatever!" Jack slammed the door. "Just drive! We've got maybe 24 hours before the shit hits the fan. So go!"
"I'm going, I'm going!" Methos laughed. "Relax. We'll be there in twenty minutes."
"And where is there by the way?"
"Home. I need to get something."
"I see," Jack responded dryly. A moment later he turned in his seat and exploded. "What do you mean we're going to your house?! What'd you do? Forget your favorite CD?"
"Now that you mention it..." He relented as Jack began to turn a little too red. "Okay. We're going to get something that should get us into Inanna's stronghold."
"Oh." Jack sat back, looking mollified. "That's a good thing."
"Just remind me to pick up those CD's on the way out." O'Neill groaned in disgust. "As long as we're here mind you."
A short while later they pulled up in front of Methos' old manor house.
"You live here?" Jack asked, astounded as they trotted up the front stairs.
"No," Methos responded sarcastically. "We're breaking in."
"Cool!"
Methos rolled his eyes as he unlocked the front door and turned on the lights. Everything had been under drop clothes since he'd decided to join the Watchers and a light layer of dust shrouded the room.
"I think you need to fire your housekeeper," Jack commented sardonically as he followed the other man inside.
"That dear sweet lady? Never! Although," Methos added thoughtfully. "I've been gone so long she might be dead. Oh, well," he went on with a shrug. "She'll have left the position to her daughter, or maybe her granddaughter by now."
Jack stared at him in disbelief, refusing to dignify the idea of hereditary maid work with a comment. Especially, maids that apparently didn't have to clean anything.
"This way," Methos smiled. "It's in the museum wing."
"You have a museum in your house?"
"No, I have a wing where I keep old things. My things."
"That's too strange for words," Jack shook his head staring at the eclectically decorated rooms.
"Well, I'd keep them in the attic but there's not enough space."
"Try the garage."
"I have six cars in there. No room."
Jack just shook his head and followed. "The rich are weird."
Methos chuckled, leading the way through a gallery filled with art works by the great masters, known and unknown, which he'd collected over the centuries. As they passed through a series of corridors, Methos pointed out which era each room contained.
"The room to your left was my Renaissance period."
Jack looked in to see a hall crammed with every bit of paraphernalia from horse riggings to clothing and shook his head. And he though he was a pack rat!
After a couple more rooms on the same order, he threw up his hands in exasperation. "Ah jeez, its Super Daniel!"
"Hey!" Methos complained. "This is my stuff. Okay? You have your stuff and I have my stuff. No one's stuff is better than anyone else's. Besides," he added, slightly aggrieved. "This is just a small fraction of what I did have. Most of it was lost. Although, every now and then, something turns up at an auction or estate sale and I get lucky and bring it home."
Jack was about to make a smart ass remark when he recalled what Hammond had told him. Immortals couldn't have children. And the wistful expression in Methos' eyes when he'd spoken about weddings meant they had little hope of a normal life with friends and family. This, he looked around more understanding of it's purpose, was essentially a poor man's substitute. No wonder he treasured his bits and pieces.
"Kidding aside," Jack told him kindly. "Someday you'll have to let me come back here and explore."
Methos turned to look at the other man, surprised at the warmth in his voice. "Of course. Just don't bring Danny. He'll walk into the Egyptian room and we wouldn't see him again until he was old."
"He'd die in there," Jack insisted. "And then we'd have to stick him in one of those mummy cases."
"Now there's an idea," Methos grinned. "I have several to choose from."
They finally reached the Roman exhibition hall and Jack hung back in awe. Room after room of shields, swords, chariots, and even furniture.
"How'd you manage to save all this stuff?" he asked as he followed deeper.
"Stored it in the wine cellars, of course. I lived here once, right before the Christians took it over. See that little beauty?" Methos pointed to one of the smaller chariots. "I drove her for the Greens before Tiberius at the Coliseum and won. Had my pick of any man or woman in Rome that night," he added proudly. Methos looked back over his shoulder and smiled. "Look, this may take a few minutes. I have to find the damned thing. So, why don't you have a look around."
He left Jack to his wanderings and headed for the far side of the hall where he'd neatly stacked several dozen trunks. Methos scratched his head as he examined the boxes. He knew it was in one of them, but which? He'd packed it away so long ago and never gotten it out again, even when the need to hide it had ended that the only clear memory he had was of laying it up with his clothing. "Best just get started," he sighed and grabbed the first of them.
It was just as hard as ever, he realized after a time of shifting and sorting, to go through these old, dear things without pausing every now and again to relive the memories. There was the fine, white cloak he'd worn to Publius' party and the wine stain the fuller had never managed to get clean. And here the leather sandals with gold embroidery he'd received as a wedding present from Clodia three months before she'd died of the fever, while beneath it lay his gift to her. A scarlet gown of rare silk from Chin, hemmed in silver fringe and stitched with fanciful winged creatures. He could never bear to part with any of it. Each little trinket, even the old clay thimble he'd used to keep his kit in good repair held a meaning and a memory for Methos. Until, at last, he took a deep breath and just got through it.
After perhaps the tenth such walk down memory lane Methos finally found it. "Here you are!" he exclaimed as he reached the bottom of the trunk. It was wrapped in a piece of medium quality dyed leather. Deliberately made to look worthless, although it was in fact the most valuable of all his possessions. He took out the pendant and held it up to the light. Such a dull looking thing with it's plain, unpolished exterior. Yet, it held such meaning for him. It should have born an inscription, he knew, like the images of others he now held in his memories thanks to Tok'ra. And had he come of age, become an Immortal while the Ancient had lived, it would have. Now, thanks to Inanna's betrayal, it never would.
Methos put the trunks back where he'd found them and went to find Jack. It wasn't that difficult, and when he did he slapped a hand over his mouth, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud. The good colonel had on one of his favorite dress helmets, worn only in procession, swishing the great plumes around like a drunken ostrich. With it he wore a centurion's cloak, while having at the air with a cavalry blade. He looked completely ridiculous and utterly charming.
"Having fun?" Methos finally asked, enjoying the sight of O'Neill playing dress up.
"Oh yeah!" He whirled about and nearly fell over as he tried to properly balance the weight of the helmet.
Methos laughed as Jack looked thoroughly chagrined. "No," he grinned when the colonel removed the helm and started to put it back. "Keep it. It suits you. But here," he came forward and searched through the pile of clothes. "This is the proper tunic and here's the breast plate and cloak. And take that short sword by the bust of Apollo instead. We'll find you the rest of the gear later." It amused Methos no end to see the colonel both flabbergasted and deeply touched by his gift.
"Are you sure?" O'Neill asked tentatively, obviously shocked to be given the priceless treasures he just happened to be caught playing with.
"Yes. I'm sure."
Jack nodded. "Thank you," he said gravely. "I promise to look after them well."
Methos simply smiled, understanding the unsaid words O'Neill could not express. That not only had he been given something of great monetary value for the excellent condition they were in, but of great personal value as well, which was far more important to both of them. Jack now had a piece of Methos' own history to remember their friendship and to know that no matter what happened something of the ancient Immortal would always be with him.
"So, did you find what you were looking for?" Jack finally asked as they left the room and started back.
"Right here," Methos held it up for inspection.
"Ah... Nice necklace. What's it got to do with Inanna?"
Methos grimaced. "It's not a necklace, it's like a bulla."
"Well, bulla for you, but it looks like a necklace to me."
With a sigh Methos handed it over. "A bulla was the Roman equivalent of an ID bracelet. Children wore them until they came of age and were initiated into whatever sacred rites their parents decreed. Then the bulla would be symbolically sacrificed to the gods."
"So what makes this one so special?"
"It was the only thing I was wearing when I woke up in that pile of rubble five thousand years ago. And," he reached out and scratched the surface until the cheap silver dip he'd put on some 1500 years earlier flaked away. "I think it's made of the same stuff as the Stargate."
"Your point being?"
"Really, Colonel," Methos drawled, taking it back and tucking it into his pocket. "You don't imagine you're the only ones to ever come up with the idea of transmitting an identification signal when passing through the Stargate, do you?"
Methos gave a last tweak to the detonator and stood back, admiring his handiwork. Inanna had always liked pretty things as he recalled. Fitting the thin filigree sheath of gold and tiny gemstones around the pendant and chain of naquada had been easy. Setting and connecting the tiny charges within the hasps which held the jewels in place had been hard. Harder yet, he frowned as he critically examined the work, would be wearing the damn thing until he could exchange it with Inanna.
With a sigh he placed the bulla in the small bomb proof case O'Neill had provided, clipping the detonator, made to look like an innocuous cell phone, to his belt. Behind him, the door to his work room opened and he turned to find Jack waiting patiently.
"Teal'c on board?"
O'Neill nodded. "He wasn't pleased about leaving Hammond and Carter out of the loop, but I think he understands."
"And you have no problem with this?" Methos asked, already knowing the response.
"I'm a soldier," Jack replied. "I do what I have to for the sake of my country."
Methos shook his head. "This isn't a soldier's mission. It's an assassin's."
"We make the hard choices here," O'Neill smiled grimly. "This is one of them. If we can stop Inanna before the fleet launches I'm willing to accept the consequences."
Methos nodded. What they were about to do would never be sanctioned, but the powers that be might look the other way after the fact as long as they succeeded. If not... Well, Methos didn't really think that would be a problem. Either they'd be dead and the world along with them, or Inanna would be no more.
"You have the stuff?" Methos asked quietly as he picked up the case and they left the work room, heading down to operations.
"Already planted," Jack grinned. "I'll signal Teal'c just before we hit the gate room. He'll set off the gas bomb and move into position. Once it's locked down we'll have about three minutes while they reconfigure the codes."
"And Teal'c?"
"The destination will automatically wipe once we're through. I know enough to do that," he added wryly. "But Teal'c will tell them the truth. Hammond will understand. So will the others."
Methos nodded. Teal'c would be all right. There was not much they could do to him anyway. Not with what he carried inside him and his knowledge of the Goa'uld.
"All right then," Methos agreed. "Let's get this show on the road."
Go to next part.