HAPS GARAGE

JERICHO, KANSAS

As Cam slowed the vehicle down he also switched off the lights. Then he cut the engine to the classic Thirty-Six Ford pick up truck and let it roll into the front of the station without much noise or fanfare. Of course, Cam had to stop thinking of it as a classic truck. He had to keep reminding himself that it would not be considered that till after the big war that was no longer going to be. It made him wonder if the truck would ever be considered a classic now. There were just too many distractions!

On the passenger seat, Kathy was not thinking about the truck. She was a little bit apprehensive and a whole lot of excited when they rolled to a stop. She kind of crouched down in the seat and whispered to Cam, “are you expecting trouble?”

Cam did not bother to whisper, “no, I didn’t want to wake up Hap. He owns this place and sleeps over in that house you can’t see cause it’s just too dark out here without real street lights.”

“Oh,” Kathy seemed somewhat disappointed. She mulled it over for a second and then perked up, “so this is where you live, huh? Jeepers, how did you ever find this place?”

Cam was already out of the car and unlocking the garage door. He was also mumbling about, “the only perk to this place is you can still find a descent garage.” He pulled up the door and walked on in with Kathy hot on his heels still asking questions. Cam stopped by a rusted locker in a back corner of the shop. After unlocking it he began going through the items that had all been tossed inside. The first item he found was an empty white seaman’s bag with a name stenciled on the side. Only then did Cam even realize she was still asking questions.

Cam commented, “you’d make a terrible spy, you know that? No wonder you and Daniel got along so well. Both of you don’t know how to shut up.”

“That’s not fair Cam,” she said pouting. “I don’t even know who this Daniel is for one thing. For another…” Kathy’s jaw stayed open when Cameron pulled a bizarre looking object from the bottom of the locker. It was sort of shaped like the letter Z, had fancy markings, and made a funny noise when Cam pushed a button and the thing stretched upward. She actually shivered when it did that. Then she had to ask, “what is that?”

“Just a little present left over from some unfortunate Jaffa I had a run in with on my ole grand pappy’s Liberty ship,” Cam replied. Cam pointed to the bottom of the locker, “I got several, they were running a special that day.” He pushed the same button and it collapsed back into it’s original position.

“Um,” Kathy put her hands behind her back and cautiously asked, “what’s it called?”

“Can’t say,” Cameron replied.

Kathy winced in frustration, “I’ve already seen it, what difference does it make if I know what’s it called?”

“No,” Cam corrected her, “I can’t say it because I can’t pronounce it. My mistake for asking Jack O’Neill about it before anybody else.” He stopped gathering supplies and straightened up. He took a short break and said, “just call it a Zat. That’s what everybody else does.”

“OK,” Kathy sounded unconvinced. “Is it like a gun?”

“Sort of,” Cam replied. He then reached down and grabbed a more familiar piece of hardware, “but personally I prefer good old fashioned American hardware. It’s easier to pronounce Thompson.” He tossed the Machine gun in his bag and followed that up with spare magazines filled with ammo. He also grabbed another Zat and slipped it into his belt at the small of his back.

Kathy recognized most of what he was gathering. All of it was quite mundane until he picked up a small slender box with buttons and funny writing. She pointed and asked, “what is that?”

Cam almost tossed it in the bag but, then he thought differently and a big smile developed on his face. He held it up for her to see just how thin it was and then he said, “remember me telling you about how your warehouse sized computers were nothing compared to what I’m used too?”

How could she not remember? Cameron was, at heart, a likable and good guy but, sometimes, he could bitch like an old woman about all the things that Kathy thought were shinny and new. It did get old. She was wondering what he was going to say about this thing, “um, yeah?”

Cam tossed it in the bag, “well that does the same job only a whole lot better.”

Kathy peeked over into the bag when he started packing again and she had to say, “whoa.” Then the next question that came to mind was, “what other kind of stuff have you got?”

Cam stopped packing. He realized he was pretty much finished anyway so he went ahead and closed up his bag. Then he reached down into the bottom of the locker and picked up one last item. This particular one was going to stay here at the station. He smiled at Kathy Langford and then said, “well I got a low yield naquada bomb out in the bottom of the oil pit. I didn’t know how to hide the staff weapons so I used them to make a frame for the little league back stop. You know with the depression on, and all, you got to take what you can get.”

Kathy squinted in confusion, “what?”

“Oh don’t worry,” Cam replied, “they’re safe. I pulled out the power cells and use them on my Christmas tree.”

“Cameron Mitchell,” Kathy replied, “one of these days you’re going to make sense.” She then pointed to his far hand, “and what is that?”

“Oh yeah,” his grin grew wide, “I’m actually going to show you what this does.” Her excitement grew and he said, “stick out your hand for me.” When she did he cuffed her right hand to the air hose pipe running along the wall. “Now don’t go to complaining on me.”

Kathy was still in shock over what he had just done. She watched him as he walked over to the nearby work bench and sat the key down prominently on it. Cam then pointed, “in the morning, Tell Hap to feed you breakfast and, don’t forget this, very important, the key is right here.”

“Cameron!” Kathy snatched at the handcuffs and then tried to wiggle her wrist out. Nothing wanted to give way, “don’t you dare leave me like this!”

He was busy pulling a paper jacket out of his pocket which he sat down next to the key, “and here is your bus ticket back to Florida.”

After another angry pull on the cuffs, Kathy growled at him, “I am not staying here all night!”

“Ah, don’t worry about that,” Cam waved it off, “Hap gets up early.”

“I’ll scream,” she threatened.

“Go ahead,” he told her. “This is western Kansas, just after the dust bowl. There isn’t a whole lot of people around to hear you. I know Hap won’t on account of he sleeps with the radio on. He’ll probably just think it’s an episode of the Lone Shadow or whatever the hell you people call entertainment.”

Now she tried tears, “you can’t leave me.”

“What I can’t do, Miss Langford, is take you with me. In about fifty years you have to meet to Daniel Jackson in a hotel conference room so he can open the Stargate. You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

There was no further arguing with Mitchell. He walked out and closed the garage bay door. A second later he was in his truck and on the way to the airfield. Unfortunately, Kathy realized, that was as far as she knew he was going. He had told her about the airplane he had access too but, nothing else. He had certainly not bothered to tell her what was in the note from Jones.

She growled once more and slapped the cuff against the pipe once more. Then she stomped her foot and yelled, “you sorry bastard! I can’t believe you…” Suddenly Kathy noticed something about the pipe she was cuffed too. It swiveled and swung out! There was an opening on the high side but it was easy enough for her to reach with the extended length of the cuff. A minute later she was out and using the key to get the accursed thing off her wrist. After that she just stood there for a second and wondered if he had known she would get out that way. Then she picked up the bus ticket sleeve and a note fell out.

Kathy read it, “yes I knew you would find out about the pipe. Now go home. Sincerely yours, Cam.” Kathy crumbled up the note and tossed it against the wall. She was still angry.