I'm wiping down the last of the glasses behind the bar, ten minutes till closing time, when an Air Force general walks through the front door. Not in uniform, but I'd recognize that bearing anywhere. Military. The way the woman with him stands at parade rest confirms it. My eyes flick to Hardison's monitors hidden beneath the counter - two more suits outside, government vehicle idling by the curb.

The pub's practically empty. I sent the staff home fifteen minutes ago. Just me and that couple celebrating their anniversary in the corner. I should probably get them out before this goes sideways.

I throw the towel over my shoulder and make my way to their table, forcing on my most charming smile. "Sorry folks, we're about to close up."

They look startled, like they'd forgotten the time. The blonde checks her phone and winces. Her wife - dark-haired, with a familiar sharpness in her eyes - looks from me to the general lingering by the door.

"Old friend," I explain, rolling my eyes like this is an inconvenience rather than a threat to everything we've built here.

She relaxes slightly, but not completely. Smart woman.

When they're safely gone, I return to the bar, facing my unexpected visitor. "What's this about, General -"

"O'Neill. Call me Jack."

Shit. I know that name. Everyone in the program does. Legendary. Which means whatever he wants, it's big."

"I don't do freelance for you guys anymore," I say, keeping my voice steady.

His expression sobers. "We're hoping you'll make an exception. It's a matter of homeworld security."

I grind my teeth. He knows I can't say no to that. Not really. Not with everything I know about what's out there. But Hardison and Parker... they have no idea. And I want to keep it that way.

"When do you need me?"

The ghost of a smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah, about that. We kinda need the whole gang."

I stare at him, cold fury washing over me. "No."

This is where the choice must be made. The safety of my family against the safety of the world.