Wayne was quiet in the back of the Sheriff’s sedan, his hands secured behind him with handcuffs. He watched the scenery going by, the trees flashing before his eyes as they sped toward the town center and the police station.

This might be the last time he’d see any of it.

That was not satisfactory.

He wasn’t ready to give up the business. He didn’t want to go to prison. He’d done nothing wrong. It was just a job, an assignment that turned into a hobby.

What was so wrong with that?

These people he was asked to take care of had it coming to them. He was doing society a favor. He was helping Darwin weed out the bad ones. Only the strong survived, and he was one of the strong ones.

Moving his eyes only, he gazed at the back of the Sheriff’s head, imaging slamming his hands into it, crushing it with the force of his will, with his strength.

But, he had no reason to hurt the Sheriff. He was only doing his job—just as he had been when he’d been rudely interrupted.

How dare they find him—and so quickly.

He’d made a misstep somewhere along the way. Now it was just a matter of not repeating it.

Quietly, he dislocated his thumb joint, the pain not even registering on his face. This, though, allowed him to slip out of the handcuffs. Slowly, without drawing attention to himself, he popped the joint back in.

Gazing around, he recognized the area. It was remote. There were no other cars around. It was now or never.

Leaping over the seat, Wayne attacked the Sheriff, forcing the car off the road and into the ditch. Although he struggled, Lane was no match for Wayne.

A precisely aimed punch rendered Lane unconscious just as the car came to a screeching halt, aimed down into the ditch.

Climbing into the front of the car, Wayne quickly opened the passenger door, easing himself out. He paused long enough to grab the handcuff key and unlock the other cuff, leaving both on the front seat.

He wouldn’t need those anymore.

Without a backward glance, Wayne headed into the forest, vanishing into the thick foliage.

Janet was awakened by a call from Sam call a little before 0700. Sam explained about the search warrant and the search that they were going to conduct at Wayne’s house on Flathead Lake. If the Colonel were located, Sam said that he would be brought immediately to the local area hospital where Janet was to meet up with them.

If not, Janet could join them when she was ready and help in the search. Sheriff Lane would call in additional Deputies at that time as well, but only once they determined the situation.

Another call from Sam shortly before 0800, convinced Janet that it was just easier to be awake.

According to Sam, they had found some evidence at the house linking Wayne to Colonel O’Neill, but unfortunately, had not found the Colonel himself. Because of the evidence, Lane had decided to bring Wayne into the station, leaving Daniel, Sam, and Teal’c to search the house and the grounds.

There was a lot of ground to cover. Acres and acres. It would take time.

After she hung up, Janet groaned and rolled back over in the bed, trying to convince herself to just get one more hour of sleep. She knew she’d need it later. But, try as she might, sleep would not come.

By 0830, she finally stopped fighting and got up, padding into the bathroom and began getting herself ready. By 0930, she and Anne were ready to roll, along with Deputy Fortman.

They had just started driving out to Wayne Nichols’ house to meet up with the rest of the team when the call came in.

There had been an accident.

Sheriff Lane was injured and Nichols was gone—vanished.

They headed directly to the scene of the accident.

Several other police cruisers had already arrived and the medics were checking over a bruised Sheriff Lane. Janet moved quickly to the ambulance where Lane was sitting on the tailgate, the EMT just finishing up. It looked like Lane would have a pretty nice bruise in a day or so, but otherwise, he seemed fine.

"Sheriff, are you okay?" Janet asked, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing, as she looked him over.

"Yeah, just one hell of a headache," he answered, nodding, his fingers lightly touching his bruised flesh and wincing in pain.

"How long were you unconscious?" Janet asked, noticing his grimace.

"Not long," Lane answered. "I probably started back this way around 8. So, maybe thirty minutes, at the most, probably closer to fifteen. By the time I called in and everyone got here…what time is it anyway?"

Janet checked her watch. "A little after 1000 hours. You really should go and get yourself checked out," Janet advised.

He shook his head. "No, I’ve gotten worse and they’ve already checked me out here. I’ll be fine." Lowering his voice and leaning over, Lane continued, "Actually, I’m more embarrassed at losing our suspect."

Janet raised her eyebrow at his admission. "What happened?"

"It seems that Wayne managed to get out of a set of handcuffs and then proceeded to run my car off the road—as you can see," Lane said. His free hand gestured to the car sitting half in and half out of the ditch along the side of the road.

"How’d he manage that?" Janet asked, her gaze coming back to rest on the Sheriff’s exhausted face.

Lane shrugged. "I don’t know. He was quiet as a mouse for the majority of the trip and then he just leapt over the seat and punched me." Lane was silent for a minute, his eyes getting a faraway look, his expression becoming grim. "He’s probably going to run directly for wherever he left Colonel O’Neill, to get to him before we do. He’ll move him and we’ll never find him now."

Janet didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to consider that possibility. She was saved from that thought by the ringing of her cell phone.

"Fraiser," she said, excusing herself to step a few feet away to answer the call.

"Janet?"

It was Sam and she sounded nervous, frightened. With just that one word, Janet knew something had happened—something bad. Her heart nearly fell to the floor.

"What’s wrong, Sam? What happened?"

"We found the Colonel, Janet," Sam said, her voice almost cracking with emotion. "You need to get here now. He’s…it’s not good, Janet."

"I’m on my way," Janet said, her face set in a grim expression, catching the attention of Lane.

"What is it?" he asked, cautiously stepping closer to her, as she frantically scanned the crowd looking for Deputy Fortman and her nurse.

"I need to get to the house now. They’ve found Colonel O’Neill."

Whether it was the words themselves or her determined expression, Lane responded immediately, striding forward, his caution vanishing. "Fortman, I need to get to the Nichols house yesterday and we’re going to need the ambulance. Let’s move now."

They were on their way in less than a minute, speeding down the road, sirens blaring.

For Janet, they weren’t moving quickly enough.