Title: Speaking in Acronyms
Author's LJ/DWJ: randomfreshink
Categories: theme: joy of jack, character study, drama
Warnings: dark!Jack, major plot point of S9
Author's Webpage/Fic list: Random at Danielfic
Link to story: Speaking in Acronyms

Why this should be read: This fic was written for dark_gate, and I found it astonishingly creepy that the Jack of this story fits seamlessly into the Jack of SG-1. The "going dark" for Jack is part of his nature, consciously chosen, and scarily plausible without making any changes to his character at all.

While the story takes place in S10, it's only a single throwaway sentence that sets the fic right before 200. The main point is one of the major plot devices of S9, and what a coldly-determined Jack plans to do about it – and when Jack O'Neill seriously sets his sights on a goal, you can be sure that it's going to happen. This is Black Ops Jack brought to life, only the orders are coming from nowhere but his own head. With a fan-favorite villain, and a surprise cameo from an old/young friend, this is a story that's alarmingly easy to picture taking place right alongside the regular episodes of SG-1... even if no one knows it.

[Disclaimer: I had the privilege of beta-reading this. It's still creepily good.]


Tucking away the Beretta, Jack pulled out his cell phone and made the call. He'd thought about packing the zat himself--it'd be handy--but having one in his desk would raise questions. And since this worked, why fix it. Tapping his fingers on the back of the leather couch, he waited for the voice on the other end to answer--irritable and irritatingly young.

"What d'you want?"

Jack turned, stared out at what midnight looked like on this side of the world. "Clean-up on aisle five."

"Oh--you. Where now?"

"As if you didn't know. Target BLC--that's Bravo, Lima, Charlie. I'll leave the phone."

"Next time I get the first shot."

Jack shook his head. That's what the little bastard said every time, and he gave the same answer. "In your dreams."

Leaving the phone open and on, he tossed it onto the body. He'd worn two pair of latex gloves, but he'd wipe for prints anyway. Couldn't be too careful--hell, he watched CSI. But since there'd be no body, no missing person, it'd be hard for anyone to start up a crime scene.

One more down, a few more to go.