FADE TO
Daniel in the here-and-now, sitting on the pile of tires, soaking wet in the rain.
DANIEL: (deadpan) I’d like to meet that nice lady again. Fix some tea, have a little chat, then slowly strangle her to death.
Daniel rises to his feet, takes off his waterlogged hat, wrings it out, then places it back on his head. Turning around, he heads back toward the crumbling building.
INT. DANIEL’S APARTMENT BUILDING – EVENING
Daniel ascends the stairwell leading to the second floor of the ramshackle building. Making his way down the short corridor, he suddenly halts dead in his tracks, dropping his book sack to the floor with a large THUD. There, before him, the door to his apartment stands wide open.
DANIEL: Burglars.
INT. DANIEL’S APARTMENT/ENTRY HALL – EVENING
Daniel cautiously steps inside his apartment and, wary of potential threats, reaches into his coat and pulls out the bottle of wine. Brandishing it like a club, Daniel presses himself up against the wall, listening for sounds, then leaps out into his living room.
DANIEL: (waves the bottle above his head) YAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!
There, going through the loose papers strewn atop his old mahogany desk, is the same middle-aged woman in black from the conference. Her head is turned towards him, her eyes unblinking.
56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (nonchalant) Come in. (beat) Your cleaning lady must be taking the year off.
Perplexed, Daniel slowly steps forward, tossing the bottle unceremoniously onto a duct taped recliner.
DANIEL: Uh … is there … what the hell are you doing in my apartment?
The mature lady, her attention now diverted to a marble bust of a lovely Egyptian woman sitting atop Daniel’s desk, picks the graceful sculpture up and begins examining it, turning it slowly over in her hands.
56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: Now this is a truly beautiful piece of art. I’d guess 14th century BC, probably from the area around Edfu. (looks about at the shabby furnishings adorning the apartment) How did you ever manage to afford it?
DANIEL: (nervous) Please, be very careful with that.
56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (carefully places the bust back down on the desktop) I’ve come to offer you a job.
DANIEL: (furrows his brow) What kind of a job?
The lady steps away from the desk, moving over to a wall adorned with a medium-sized photograph. In the photograph are three figures: a handsome blond man built like a linebacker, a willowy woman with auburn hair, and an eleven-year-old Daniel Jackson; the three figures are posed in a group hug, broad smiles on their faces.
56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: (turns to Daniel) Your parents?
DANIEL: Foster.
ELDERLY WOMAN: Oh, that’s right. Your parents died in that plane crash back in … what was it, '87?
DANIEL: (sarcastic) Ah yes, let me think. Yes, I believe it was '87. An excellent year for a fiery death, wouldn’t you say?
56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN : (ashamed) I’m sorry. It was –
DANIEL: (angry) No, really, if it would amuse you, let’s definitely have a chitchat about the way my parents died!
Daniel stares daggers at the woman, who averts her eyes. Fuming, he walks past her into his small kitchen, opening the refrigerator and peering into the wasteland that lies within.
56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN: My name is Catherine Langford. I have some very early hieroglyphs I’d like you to work on.
Coming to the conclusion that none of the few foodstuffs left inside his refrigerator are fit for human consumption, Daniel closes it and rejoins Catherine’s company.
DANIEL: Since when is the military interested in Egyptian hieroglyphs?
CATHERINE (56-YEAR-OLD WOMAN): (cocks an eyebrow) Military? What makes you think this has anything to do with the military?
DANIEL: The chauffeur across the street was sporting a military-style crew cut. An oddity on the streets of Hollywood, wouldn’t you say? (beat) I think I’m too old to run off and join the Army.
CATHERINE: (grins) Very impressive, Doctor. (drops the grin) Look, I wish I could explain everything to you, but there’s a certain amount of secrecy involved with this project.
DANIEL: Well maybe you can divulge this much: Why should I take a job I know nothing about?
CATHERINE: You have no family or friends stateside, your landlord mentioned that he’d served you an eviction notice, there’s a stack of unpaid bills on your desk, and your grants have run out. Now, it looks to me like young Dr. Jackson needs a job, and after your talk this afternoon, I wouldn’t sit home waiting for the phone to ring. (beat) But there’s an even better reason you should come to work for me, Daniel.
DANIEL: (smirks) And what might that be?
CATHERINE: (unclasps her handbag and pulls out a large brown envelope) To prove that your theories are right.
Catherine hands the envelope to Daniel. Taking the envelope, he pulls open the tab and pulls out the contents. There in his hand are several black-and-white photographs of the unusual coverstone that her father’s expedition had uncovered in Egypt. Going through the photos, Daniel’s mouth goes agape.
CATHERINE: (pulls the set of photos out of Daniel’s hands) That’s enough for now.
DANIEL: Hey!
Sliding the photos back in the envelope and the envelope back in her handbag, Catherine withdraws another envelope – a white envelope emblazoned with the Air Force logo. She hands it to Daniel, who tentatively takes it.
DANIEL: What’s this?
CATHERINE: Travel plans.
Opening the envelope, Daniel peers in at the contents.
DANIEL: Denver? (sneezes) Look, as you can imagine, I’m not real big on flying.
Without a word, Catherine walks past Daniel. Coming to the open door leading out of the apartment, she turns to Daniel, a slight smile on her lips.
CATHERINE: Get over it.
She steps out, closing the door behind her.