Fic: If It's Alien, it's Ours (2/3)
Title: If it's Alien, it's Ours
Author: Gillian Taylor (dark_aegis)
Characters: Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Jackie Tyler, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Yvonne Hartmann
Spoilers: Dalek
Rated: All Ages
Disclaimer: Not mine by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just having fun with them
Summary: "Welcome to Torchwood, Doctor. We've been waiting for you."
Author's Notes: First fic in months! This is rather exciting. Work's calmed down a bit, so I can write again. Anyway. Thanks, as always, to the ever brilliant wendymr for her BRing assistance.
Chapter 1: Missing
Chapter 2: The Chase
Rose desperately tried to calm her breathing, pressing herself behind the meagre cover of the alley’s bins. She couldn’t afford to let her breathing give away her position. They were after her. She could hear them running past the alley right now, their footsteps just a shade too heavy and too militaristic for a typical Londoner.
At least she’d managed to get in contact with UNIT. She’d been on the phone just five minutes ago, trying to negotiate a ride or directions to their facility, when she’d noticed the black SUV across the street. There’d been another, identical, Land Rover just down the street. The windows were tinted, but she’d known they were looking for her.
She got directions, but she’d had to drop the phone when the occupants of the SUVs made their move. So she’d run for her life and now she was here, breathing in who knew what sort of rubbish while waiting for her pursuers to, hopefully, lose her.
“Unit one to Birdsnest. No luck. Repeat, no luck,” someone stated, just loud enough for her to hear over the background noise of London. That was a problem, though. If she could hear them from here, they were close. Too close.
She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing even more. Wouldn’t do for a gasp or even a deep breath to give her away. She couldn’t afford capture. Not now. Not yet.
“Roger, you’ve got the picture of the girl, yeah?” the first voice asked.
“Yeah. Here it is. Rose Tyler. Nice bit o’ skirt,” Roger replied.
“She’s way too young for you, idiot. We need to check all the shops along this street. She couldn’t’ve got too far away from us.”
“Yeah. She could be right behind those bins,” Roger pointed out.
Pretend to be invisible, she instructed herself, and tried to press herself against the brick wall.
“Ha. There’s no way she could’ve got here before us. You take those shops across the street, I’ll take these.” Footsteps again, only this time heading away from her.
She gave them a count of twenty before she relaxed, releasing a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Not good. She peered down the alley, trying to determine just what sort of risk she’d be taking if she left the relative safety of the bins. There was no telling if someone was looking down this alley. They could turn at just the right time and spot her as she made her way towards the other end. Or she could manage to escape without any being the wiser.
Nothing for it, really. She had to get to UNIT. Which meant she was moving, pursuers or not. Sighing she stood and moved down the alley, not daring to look back for fear of catching anyone’s attention.
The next street was just as busy as the last and she lost herself in the crowds. UNIT apparently had a satellite office in central London, just a few streets away from Downing Street. If she could get there without getting captured, they’d possibly help her. It wasn’t much of a chance, but it was one she didn’t have before.
She increased her pace, weaving her way through the cluster of people window-shopping in Oxford Street and generally congregating on the streets with the ease born only of a local. The mood was still as sombre as she’d seen earlier, but these people moved about their lives with an almost false-looking cheer. They were determined to ignore whatever it was that was bothering them, no matter what.
Rose noticed more of those black SUVs moving along the streets. Each time she spotted one, she hid herself as best she could, ducking behind a tall, broad-shouldered bloke or turning her back to look at a bus timetable and praying that the SUV wouldn’t stop. She knew she couldn’t keep up this vigilance for long. She was getting tired, and it was only a matter of time before she made a mistake that would get her captured.
There were a lot of CCTV cameras in London, especially this close to Downing Street. Her pursuers might be able to track her through them. She tried to keep her face away from the cameras, but she knew it’d only keep them at bay for so long. She had a lot of distance to cover. Oxford Street to Whitehall wasn’t an expanse she could cross in the matter of a few minutes, especially not when she was trying to keep a low profile.
She couldn’t afford to dally, even though she was trying to keep a low profile. The streets were crowded, mostly with tourists, as she was getting closer to Trafalgar Square and Whitehall. She found herself stuck behind a tour group full of foreigners. Her skin was too pale and her hair was too blonde to truly blend in amongst them.
Rose glanced across the street, trying to weigh whether she could afford to cross here or if she’d have to wait. That was when another one of those black SUVs came into view and pulled into a parking space across the street. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. That’d be the fastest way to attract attention.
She stayed with the tourist group and watched the SUV in her peripheral vision. Nothing happened for a while as she moved with them, stopping obediently as the tour leader pointed out the sights. That was when they came. They exited the vehicle, their business suits standing out amongst the jeans and shirts worn prevalently by the tourists.
They didn’t start by crossing the street. They moved parallel to her, stopping as the tourist group - and herself - did. They must’ve spotted her. Her fingers curled into fists as she tried to determine her options. Trafalgar Square was straight ahead, Nelson’s Column an almost comforting image. Her destination was beside the War Office, a mere ten minute’s walk away from here.
The tour group moved and she spotted a gap. Not much of one, but enough that she could ease by them and pick up speed. She took the opportunity, moving quickly, and, in her peripheral vision she could see her pursuers begin to cross the street, their movements punctuated by a chorus of horns.
Walking wasn’t going to save her, not now. She ran.
And her pursuers ran after her.
He was alone save for the clamour of his thoughts. Rose could be dead right now and all because of him. The Doctor tested his bindings, struggling for the smallest measure of movement, but he was too securely bound. He wasn’t strong enough to break free. He had no sonic screwdriver now. Yvonne had taken that from him, just as she’d taken Rose.
He couldn’t even turn his head, bury his face in the pillow or even stare at something different. No, he had to stare at the ceiling, worrying about Rose. He’d almost killed her once. Could he do it again?
No, he had done it again. The greater good and all that stupid, stupid reasoning. He couldn’t save her wondering what he could do to get himself out of this situation.
He could give in. Tell Yvonne how to access his TARDIS. Wasn’t like she could do anything with it. Sure, there was futuristic technology inside, but what damage could Yvonne truly do? A lot, he was afraid. She had many people under her command - people who hunted him, others who maintained the carefully constructed prison he now found himself in, people who were even now chasing after Rose Tyler. It wasn’t too far of a stretch to imagine that she might have scientists at her beck and call as well.
Could he trick her? Tell her to call off her goons and promise to give in if only Rose were safe? How would he know she’d even agree to that sort of thing? He could tell Yvonne that if Rose wasn’t brought to him alive and well he wouldn’t help her. But if Rose was brought before him, they’d be in the same situation, only now he could see them hurt Rose. He’d know if they tried to kill her. She’d be hostage to his own good behaviour.
What the hell was he supposed to do? They were going to kill Rose. He could stop it at the cost of history. He’d killed her once and he was doing it again through his inaction.
“Yvonne Hartmann.” Her name slipped from his lips before he’d even registered his decision. “I’ll answer your questions only if you don’t hurt Rose.”
“How do I know you’ll tell me the truth?” Yvonne asked, her voice sounded metallic and scratchy through a hidden speaker. He knew they’d watch him. Only made sense, that. So of course she’d know when he spoke, when he did anything besides lie here waiting for someone to come to him.
“Bring her here, before me. Let me see her, and you can hold her hostage against my behaviour. If you don’t bring her here, I’ll have no choice but to believe that you’ve killed her. If you’ve killed her, I will tell you nothing. If you’ve killed her, I won’t stop until I see every bit of brick and mortar in this place crumbled to dust.” It didn’t help that he was tied up when he delivered that particular threat.
“You can’t stop me from learning what I want to know,” Yvonne snarled.
He grinned. “Yes, I can. If Rose isn’t with you when I next see you, Yvonne Hartmann, I’m afraid I won’t be responding to you at all.” She wouldn’t be able to rouse him from this. She could kill him - course she could - but he’d only regenerate into the exact same state. That was the consequence of using this particular ability.
He would essentially be killing himself. His body would live on, but his mind wouldn’t be able to connect to the rest of his body until a specific set of circumstances occurred. He could set it up so that if Rose was the one who touched him, he’d wake up. Otherwise, he’d be in a coma for the rest of his life - lives. Which could be a very long time indeed.
What choice did he have, though? He couldn’t escape - Yvonne had seen to that. For Rose, though, he’d do it. He had to.
Her feet pounded against the pavement, each movement sending little shocks of something akin to pain up her leg. Her side burned with the effort. She’d been running since Trafalgar Square. There were more of those SUVs following her, their movements restricted only by the traffic at this time of day and their inability to find any on-street parking the closer they got to Whitehall.
The War Office was just ahead and, just beside it, was her salvation. The United Nations flag flew over a white building. Two soldiers stood outside, their weapons within easy reach. She could shout for their help, but she doubted they could hear her. There were far too many people between her and them. Too many innocent tourists who shouldn’t get caught up in whatever she’d found herself in.
Who were those people who were chasing her? Who drove those black SUVs? And what the hell did they do with the Doctor?
She didn’t bother turning her head to see if she was still being followed. Wouldn’t do to mistakenly think she was safe only to get grabbed the instant she slowed down. She wouldn’t - couldn’t - stop until she got to the UNIT office.
“Stop! Thief!” someone shouted from behind her.
She knew she looked suspicious. Running about Whitehall just wasn’t done. Not unless something serious was happening. Not unless there were explosions and aliens and other sorts of things. Helpful hands reached out to grab her and she murmured apologies as she forced her way past them.
They couldn’t stop her. Not now. Not when she was so close.
“Oi! Watch it!” someone shouted as she shoved her way past him.
“Sorry!”
She managed to capture the attention of the guards at the front of the UN facility. Her movements through the crowd weren’t exactly subtle, nor were the people chasing after her.
“Stop!” one of the guards shouted, stepping away from the building to aim his weapon in her direction.
She certainly didn’t fancy getting shot so she stopped and slowly raised her hands. Moments later, she heard the pounding footsteps of her pursuers slow behind her, until at least two people - well, she could only hear two over the ruckus of the crowd - were directly behind her.
“Thank you, officer, for stopping this thief. My partner and I need to take her to the Met for questioning,” one of them - a man - stated.
“It’s not true,” she said. “I jus’ called your lot. Spoke to a Lt. Col. Kincaid. He said if I made it here, I could -“
Something was pressed into her back and she stiffened in response. “Shut it, Miss Tyler. You are under arrest -“
“Hold on a mo’,” one of the guards said. “No-one’s taking anyone anywhere. Now, miss, finish your sentence. You spoke to Colonel Kincaid?”
“Yeah,” she said, very aware of the pressure of the gun - at least she assumed it was a gun - against her. “I need your help, please. Colonel Kincaid told me to tell you -“
“I said shut it, Tyler. We’re leaving. Hodges, take her arm.”
Hodges grabbed her arm, physically hauling her backwards. Now she could see the men who were holding her. Hodges was a burly man, most of his bulk hidden beneath the tailored suit he wore. The other man was thinner, almost plain looking, in comparison. Neither of them smiled.
“Oi! Let me go!” Rose shouted, struggling against Hodges’ grip. She might’ve been trying to move a mountain for all the good it did.
“Here now. Enough of that! You two, let her go. You’ve got a warrant for her arrest?”
“Yes,” the thin man said.
“Then show it to me,” the soldier ordered. “Otherwise, you’re not taking her anywhere.”
For all she knew, these men had a warrant for her arrest. Wouldn’t be beyond them, she didn’t think. “TARDIS. Doctor,” she said. “ ‘S a red alert, yeah? Least that’s what the Prime Minister told me.” Though why would two common soldiers know that, really? She just told them she knew about the TARDIS and the Doctor. She just told the men currently holding her that she knew things. Admittedly, they’d probably already guessed that much considering how determined they were to grab her.
She was not going to be used to get at the Doctor. She was going to save him, damnit. “Please,” she whispered.
“Hodges,” the thin man snapped.
Before Hodges could do whatever it was that his partner wanted him to do, one of the soldiers ordered, “Right, you three inside. You’re not going anywhere until we get permission to let you go from our superiors.” The soldier nodded at his companion, who pulled out a walkie-talkie and began murmuring into it.
“Do you have any idea who we are?” Hodges asked.
“No, and I don’t care. You could be the Prime Minister and it wouldn’t matter. You are coming inside. I will not ask again.”
She wondered for a moment whether her captors would argue with the soldiers. A fire-fight out here wouldn’t be good. A lot of innocent people could get hurt, but she didn’t think Hodges or his friend cared about that sort of thing. They wanted her and they had to be willing to do whatever it took to get her.
What hope could two UNIT soldiers - men who wouldn’t want to injure civilians - have against this lot? She underestimated their stubbornness, though. Somehow one of the soldiers managed to get behind her captors and they were all ushered inside the building.
She was expecting a sterile office building setup inside. Instead, the room had a vaulted ceiling emphasised by a delicate-looking chandelier. Intricate stucco added texture to the walls. A staircase curled down the side of the room and, beneath the staircase, was a receptionist’s desk. The woman who was seated at the desk wasn’t paying attention to them. She was watching the staircase.
No, not the staircase, the man on the staircase. He was an older bloke, with grey hair and a kindly expression on his face. Though something told her that there was a thick layer of steel underneath that amiable look. He smiled at them and the soldiers snapped to attention in reaction.
“Ah, good job, lads. I see you’ve found my niece. Thank you for bringing her to me,” the man stated, to her great surprise.
Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, retired, watched the scene with an expression akin to pride. He had never met this girl before today, but she had some strength about her. She didn’t cry or even show that she was afraid. She stood tall, proud, despite the Torchwood agents’ current grip on her arms.
“Let her go,” he ordered as he walked the rest of the way down the stairs, using the railing and his cane to keep his balance. This business of getting old wasn’t too pleasant.
“Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart,” one of the Torchwood agents stated.
“That would be me, yes.” He smiled. He did so love getting one over Yvonne Hartmann’s so-called agency.
“Rose Tyler is in our custody. She is not your niece. You have no authority...”
His smile widened. “No authority? Ah, my dear fellow, do you recognise where you are right now? This is UNIT territory. Lads, please relieve these agents of their weapons.”
Before his soldiers took more than one step towards the agents, Rose took matters into her own hands. She moved her head back in a sharp movement, connecting solidly with her captor’s nose. Fingers loosened and she broke free, moving to join him. His people relieved the Torchwood agents of their weapons.
“Good job,” he complimented her. But he’d expect nothing less of one of the Doctor’s companions.
He trusted his people had the Torchwood agents well in hand, but before he finished talking to Rose, he turned to the soldiers. “Escort those two out of these premises. Do not let them back in.”
“Yes, sir.” One of the soldiers nodded and forcefully escorted the two agents out of the building.
“Now, then, Miss Tyler, if you would come with me?”
“I don’t understand,” Rose said, not moving an inch. His respect for her edged upwards a notch. “Who are you, Brigadier? An’ why are you helping me? And why did you claim me as your niece when I’ve never seen you before in my life?” Her eyes darted around the room, obviously taking note of her surroundings. Possibly even trying to find weapons. Clever girl, this. He’d have to handle this carefully.
“I’ve known the Doctor for a very long time. Any of his companions are welcome here. As for claiming you as my niece, well, it was easier than claiming you as a UNIT agent. I apologise for the deception.”
“The Doctor never mentioned you,” she said carefully.
He laughed. “Course he didn’t. The Doctor doesn’t much like talking about his past. Suffice to say that we worked closely together for many years.” He paused for a moment, considering. “Please, Miss Tyler, if you would come with me? I’d much rather have the rest of this conversation in more secure surroundings.”
She glanced at the door once and then nodded. “All right.”
He led her upstairs, taking her to one of the interior rooms. It wouldn’t do for Torchwood to manage to get their hands on this girl now that she was in his custody. If only he’d got here sooner. He might’ve been able to help her earlier, if not managed to warn the Doctor before he got into whatever trouble he’d found himself in. The instant Torchwood had started stirring themselves into a bit of a tizzy, he was intrigued. But when someone had mentioned the Doctor, he had stirred himself from his estate and moved into London proper.
He might be retired, but there was little that escaped his notice. His contacts informed him the instant something happened concerning the Doctor. He still had some pull here. But what he was most concerned about was why Torchwood was chasing after the Doctor’s companion. His Cardiff contact had mentioned her before, and told him that if she ever came to him for help to do whatever he could. Even without his contact’s reassurance, he would’ve helped this girl. “Can I offer you some tea, Miss Tyler? I believe we might be able to find some biscuits, too, if you would like something to eat.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. Can’t afford to waste the time. I’m sorry for bein’ blunt, but there’s nothing for it. Someone’s taken the Doctor, an’ I think they were the ones who were coming after me. Can you help me?”
“Torchwood has the Doctor?” That couldn’t stand. Yvonne Hartmann had expressed interest in obtaining his friend before. If she’d managed it now, well, that wouldn’t do at all.
“I’ve heard that name before. What’s Torchwood?”
“They fancy themselves to be the British version of UNIT, but they’re far more ruthless. They don’t follow regulations or standard rules of combat. They simply take what they want regardless of due process. They believe that anything alien is dangerous and needs to be contained. They also believe that if it is alien - technology or a being - it belongs to them. If they have the Doctor, it doesn’t bode well for any of us.” Where would Miss Hartmann hold the Doctor? He was a high profile captive, after all. If Downing Street had word that the Doctor was being held captive, he was certain the Prime Minister would object.
Could that be why Torchwood was after Rose? So she couldn’t alert the Prime Minister, or any one of the Doctor’s other friends? That was possible, of course, but he rather thought the more likely scenario was that Torchwood wanted Rose for the leverage they’d have over the Doctor. There was little the man wouldn’t do for a friend, especially not if they were one of his chosen few.
“How can we save him? If they’re like UNIT...”
“They’re nothing like UNIT,” he countered, a snap in his voice, though he tempered it as he continued. “We don’t chase after the Doctor’s companions, or threaten them with injury if they don’t agree to come with us. Now, I’d like you to tell me everything. From the beginning, if you don’t mind.”
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s not responding to any inquiries. From these readings, it looks like he’s in some sort of coma.” The technician cringed away at her look of fury.
“Wake him up,” she snarled. “Use anything you have to. Any sort of stimulant.”
“But, ma’am, we don’t know how his physiology will react to any of our normal techniques. We could kill him.”
Yvonne’s eyes narrowed. That would be unacceptable. “You’d better hope - for your sake - that it doesn’t.”
***
Chapter 3: Rescue
x-posted to: dark_aegis, time_and_chips, hearts_in_time
Author: Gillian Taylor (dark_aegis)
Characters: Rose Tyler, Ninth Doctor, Jackie Tyler, Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, Yvonne Hartmann
Spoilers: Dalek
Rated: All Ages
Disclaimer: Not mine by any stretch of the imagination. I'm just having fun with them
Summary: "Welcome to Torchwood, Doctor. We've been waiting for you."
Author's Notes: First fic in months! This is rather exciting. Work's calmed down a bit, so I can write again. Anyway. Thanks, as always, to the ever brilliant wendymr for her BRing assistance.
Chapter 1: Missing
Chapter 2: The Chase
Rose desperately tried to calm her breathing, pressing herself behind the meagre cover of the alley’s bins. She couldn’t afford to let her breathing give away her position. They were after her. She could hear them running past the alley right now, their footsteps just a shade too heavy and too militaristic for a typical Londoner.
At least she’d managed to get in contact with UNIT. She’d been on the phone just five minutes ago, trying to negotiate a ride or directions to their facility, when she’d noticed the black SUV across the street. There’d been another, identical, Land Rover just down the street. The windows were tinted, but she’d known they were looking for her.
She got directions, but she’d had to drop the phone when the occupants of the SUVs made their move. So she’d run for her life and now she was here, breathing in who knew what sort of rubbish while waiting for her pursuers to, hopefully, lose her.
“Unit one to Birdsnest. No luck. Repeat, no luck,” someone stated, just loud enough for her to hear over the background noise of London. That was a problem, though. If she could hear them from here, they were close. Too close.
She closed her eyes and tried to slow her breathing even more. Wouldn’t do for a gasp or even a deep breath to give her away. She couldn’t afford capture. Not now. Not yet.
“Roger, you’ve got the picture of the girl, yeah?” the first voice asked.
“Yeah. Here it is. Rose Tyler. Nice bit o’ skirt,” Roger replied.
“She’s way too young for you, idiot. We need to check all the shops along this street. She couldn’t’ve got too far away from us.”
“Yeah. She could be right behind those bins,” Roger pointed out.
Pretend to be invisible, she instructed herself, and tried to press herself against the brick wall.
“Ha. There’s no way she could’ve got here before us. You take those shops across the street, I’ll take these.” Footsteps again, only this time heading away from her.
She gave them a count of twenty before she relaxed, releasing a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. Not good. She peered down the alley, trying to determine just what sort of risk she’d be taking if she left the relative safety of the bins. There was no telling if someone was looking down this alley. They could turn at just the right time and spot her as she made her way towards the other end. Or she could manage to escape without any being the wiser.
Nothing for it, really. She had to get to UNIT. Which meant she was moving, pursuers or not. Sighing she stood and moved down the alley, not daring to look back for fear of catching anyone’s attention.
The next street was just as busy as the last and she lost herself in the crowds. UNIT apparently had a satellite office in central London, just a few streets away from Downing Street. If she could get there without getting captured, they’d possibly help her. It wasn’t much of a chance, but it was one she didn’t have before.
She increased her pace, weaving her way through the cluster of people window-shopping in Oxford Street and generally congregating on the streets with the ease born only of a local. The mood was still as sombre as she’d seen earlier, but these people moved about their lives with an almost false-looking cheer. They were determined to ignore whatever it was that was bothering them, no matter what.
Rose noticed more of those black SUVs moving along the streets. Each time she spotted one, she hid herself as best she could, ducking behind a tall, broad-shouldered bloke or turning her back to look at a bus timetable and praying that the SUV wouldn’t stop. She knew she couldn’t keep up this vigilance for long. She was getting tired, and it was only a matter of time before she made a mistake that would get her captured.
There were a lot of CCTV cameras in London, especially this close to Downing Street. Her pursuers might be able to track her through them. She tried to keep her face away from the cameras, but she knew it’d only keep them at bay for so long. She had a lot of distance to cover. Oxford Street to Whitehall wasn’t an expanse she could cross in the matter of a few minutes, especially not when she was trying to keep a low profile.
She couldn’t afford to dally, even though she was trying to keep a low profile. The streets were crowded, mostly with tourists, as she was getting closer to Trafalgar Square and Whitehall. She found herself stuck behind a tour group full of foreigners. Her skin was too pale and her hair was too blonde to truly blend in amongst them.
Rose glanced across the street, trying to weigh whether she could afford to cross here or if she’d have to wait. That was when another one of those black SUVs came into view and pulled into a parking space across the street. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t. That’d be the fastest way to attract attention.
She stayed with the tourist group and watched the SUV in her peripheral vision. Nothing happened for a while as she moved with them, stopping obediently as the tour leader pointed out the sights. That was when they came. They exited the vehicle, their business suits standing out amongst the jeans and shirts worn prevalently by the tourists.
They didn’t start by crossing the street. They moved parallel to her, stopping as the tourist group - and herself - did. They must’ve spotted her. Her fingers curled into fists as she tried to determine her options. Trafalgar Square was straight ahead, Nelson’s Column an almost comforting image. Her destination was beside the War Office, a mere ten minute’s walk away from here.
The tour group moved and she spotted a gap. Not much of one, but enough that she could ease by them and pick up speed. She took the opportunity, moving quickly, and, in her peripheral vision she could see her pursuers begin to cross the street, their movements punctuated by a chorus of horns.
Walking wasn’t going to save her, not now. She ran.
And her pursuers ran after her.
He was alone save for the clamour of his thoughts. Rose could be dead right now and all because of him. The Doctor tested his bindings, struggling for the smallest measure of movement, but he was too securely bound. He wasn’t strong enough to break free. He had no sonic screwdriver now. Yvonne had taken that from him, just as she’d taken Rose.
He couldn’t even turn his head, bury his face in the pillow or even stare at something different. No, he had to stare at the ceiling, worrying about Rose. He’d almost killed her once. Could he do it again?
No, he had done it again. The greater good and all that stupid, stupid reasoning. He couldn’t save her wondering what he could do to get himself out of this situation.
He could give in. Tell Yvonne how to access his TARDIS. Wasn’t like she could do anything with it. Sure, there was futuristic technology inside, but what damage could Yvonne truly do? A lot, he was afraid. She had many people under her command - people who hunted him, others who maintained the carefully constructed prison he now found himself in, people who were even now chasing after Rose Tyler. It wasn’t too far of a stretch to imagine that she might have scientists at her beck and call as well.
Could he trick her? Tell her to call off her goons and promise to give in if only Rose were safe? How would he know she’d even agree to that sort of thing? He could tell Yvonne that if Rose wasn’t brought to him alive and well he wouldn’t help her. But if Rose was brought before him, they’d be in the same situation, only now he could see them hurt Rose. He’d know if they tried to kill her. She’d be hostage to his own good behaviour.
What the hell was he supposed to do? They were going to kill Rose. He could stop it at the cost of history. He’d killed her once and he was doing it again through his inaction.
“Yvonne Hartmann.” Her name slipped from his lips before he’d even registered his decision. “I’ll answer your questions only if you don’t hurt Rose.”
“How do I know you’ll tell me the truth?” Yvonne asked, her voice sounded metallic and scratchy through a hidden speaker. He knew they’d watch him. Only made sense, that. So of course she’d know when he spoke, when he did anything besides lie here waiting for someone to come to him.
“Bring her here, before me. Let me see her, and you can hold her hostage against my behaviour. If you don’t bring her here, I’ll have no choice but to believe that you’ve killed her. If you’ve killed her, I will tell you nothing. If you’ve killed her, I won’t stop until I see every bit of brick and mortar in this place crumbled to dust.” It didn’t help that he was tied up when he delivered that particular threat.
“You can’t stop me from learning what I want to know,” Yvonne snarled.
He grinned. “Yes, I can. If Rose isn’t with you when I next see you, Yvonne Hartmann, I’m afraid I won’t be responding to you at all.” She wouldn’t be able to rouse him from this. She could kill him - course she could - but he’d only regenerate into the exact same state. That was the consequence of using this particular ability.
He would essentially be killing himself. His body would live on, but his mind wouldn’t be able to connect to the rest of his body until a specific set of circumstances occurred. He could set it up so that if Rose was the one who touched him, he’d wake up. Otherwise, he’d be in a coma for the rest of his life - lives. Which could be a very long time indeed.
What choice did he have, though? He couldn’t escape - Yvonne had seen to that. For Rose, though, he’d do it. He had to.
Her feet pounded against the pavement, each movement sending little shocks of something akin to pain up her leg. Her side burned with the effort. She’d been running since Trafalgar Square. There were more of those SUVs following her, their movements restricted only by the traffic at this time of day and their inability to find any on-street parking the closer they got to Whitehall.
The War Office was just ahead and, just beside it, was her salvation. The United Nations flag flew over a white building. Two soldiers stood outside, their weapons within easy reach. She could shout for their help, but she doubted they could hear her. There were far too many people between her and them. Too many innocent tourists who shouldn’t get caught up in whatever she’d found herself in.
Who were those people who were chasing her? Who drove those black SUVs? And what the hell did they do with the Doctor?
She didn’t bother turning her head to see if she was still being followed. Wouldn’t do to mistakenly think she was safe only to get grabbed the instant she slowed down. She wouldn’t - couldn’t - stop until she got to the UNIT office.
“Stop! Thief!” someone shouted from behind her.
She knew she looked suspicious. Running about Whitehall just wasn’t done. Not unless something serious was happening. Not unless there were explosions and aliens and other sorts of things. Helpful hands reached out to grab her and she murmured apologies as she forced her way past them.
They couldn’t stop her. Not now. Not when she was so close.
“Oi! Watch it!” someone shouted as she shoved her way past him.
“Sorry!”
She managed to capture the attention of the guards at the front of the UN facility. Her movements through the crowd weren’t exactly subtle, nor were the people chasing after her.
“Stop!” one of the guards shouted, stepping away from the building to aim his weapon in her direction.
She certainly didn’t fancy getting shot so she stopped and slowly raised her hands. Moments later, she heard the pounding footsteps of her pursuers slow behind her, until at least two people - well, she could only hear two over the ruckus of the crowd - were directly behind her.
“Thank you, officer, for stopping this thief. My partner and I need to take her to the Met for questioning,” one of them - a man - stated.
“It’s not true,” she said. “I jus’ called your lot. Spoke to a Lt. Col. Kincaid. He said if I made it here, I could -“
Something was pressed into her back and she stiffened in response. “Shut it, Miss Tyler. You are under arrest -“
“Hold on a mo’,” one of the guards said. “No-one’s taking anyone anywhere. Now, miss, finish your sentence. You spoke to Colonel Kincaid?”
“Yeah,” she said, very aware of the pressure of the gun - at least she assumed it was a gun - against her. “I need your help, please. Colonel Kincaid told me to tell you -“
“I said shut it, Tyler. We’re leaving. Hodges, take her arm.”
Hodges grabbed her arm, physically hauling her backwards. Now she could see the men who were holding her. Hodges was a burly man, most of his bulk hidden beneath the tailored suit he wore. The other man was thinner, almost plain looking, in comparison. Neither of them smiled.
“Oi! Let me go!” Rose shouted, struggling against Hodges’ grip. She might’ve been trying to move a mountain for all the good it did.
“Here now. Enough of that! You two, let her go. You’ve got a warrant for her arrest?”
“Yes,” the thin man said.
“Then show it to me,” the soldier ordered. “Otherwise, you’re not taking her anywhere.”
For all she knew, these men had a warrant for her arrest. Wouldn’t be beyond them, she didn’t think. “TARDIS. Doctor,” she said. “ ‘S a red alert, yeah? Least that’s what the Prime Minister told me.” Though why would two common soldiers know that, really? She just told them she knew about the TARDIS and the Doctor. She just told the men currently holding her that she knew things. Admittedly, they’d probably already guessed that much considering how determined they were to grab her.
She was not going to be used to get at the Doctor. She was going to save him, damnit. “Please,” she whispered.
“Hodges,” the thin man snapped.
Before Hodges could do whatever it was that his partner wanted him to do, one of the soldiers ordered, “Right, you three inside. You’re not going anywhere until we get permission to let you go from our superiors.” The soldier nodded at his companion, who pulled out a walkie-talkie and began murmuring into it.
“Do you have any idea who we are?” Hodges asked.
“No, and I don’t care. You could be the Prime Minister and it wouldn’t matter. You are coming inside. I will not ask again.”
She wondered for a moment whether her captors would argue with the soldiers. A fire-fight out here wouldn’t be good. A lot of innocent people could get hurt, but she didn’t think Hodges or his friend cared about that sort of thing. They wanted her and they had to be willing to do whatever it took to get her.
What hope could two UNIT soldiers - men who wouldn’t want to injure civilians - have against this lot? She underestimated their stubbornness, though. Somehow one of the soldiers managed to get behind her captors and they were all ushered inside the building.
She was expecting a sterile office building setup inside. Instead, the room had a vaulted ceiling emphasised by a delicate-looking chandelier. Intricate stucco added texture to the walls. A staircase curled down the side of the room and, beneath the staircase, was a receptionist’s desk. The woman who was seated at the desk wasn’t paying attention to them. She was watching the staircase.
No, not the staircase, the man on the staircase. He was an older bloke, with grey hair and a kindly expression on his face. Though something told her that there was a thick layer of steel underneath that amiable look. He smiled at them and the soldiers snapped to attention in reaction.
“Ah, good job, lads. I see you’ve found my niece. Thank you for bringing her to me,” the man stated, to her great surprise.
Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart, retired, watched the scene with an expression akin to pride. He had never met this girl before today, but she had some strength about her. She didn’t cry or even show that she was afraid. She stood tall, proud, despite the Torchwood agents’ current grip on her arms.
“Let her go,” he ordered as he walked the rest of the way down the stairs, using the railing and his cane to keep his balance. This business of getting old wasn’t too pleasant.
“Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart,” one of the Torchwood agents stated.
“That would be me, yes.” He smiled. He did so love getting one over Yvonne Hartmann’s so-called agency.
“Rose Tyler is in our custody. She is not your niece. You have no authority...”
His smile widened. “No authority? Ah, my dear fellow, do you recognise where you are right now? This is UNIT territory. Lads, please relieve these agents of their weapons.”
Before his soldiers took more than one step towards the agents, Rose took matters into her own hands. She moved her head back in a sharp movement, connecting solidly with her captor’s nose. Fingers loosened and she broke free, moving to join him. His people relieved the Torchwood agents of their weapons.
“Good job,” he complimented her. But he’d expect nothing less of one of the Doctor’s companions.
He trusted his people had the Torchwood agents well in hand, but before he finished talking to Rose, he turned to the soldiers. “Escort those two out of these premises. Do not let them back in.”
“Yes, sir.” One of the soldiers nodded and forcefully escorted the two agents out of the building.
“Now, then, Miss Tyler, if you would come with me?”
“I don’t understand,” Rose said, not moving an inch. His respect for her edged upwards a notch. “Who are you, Brigadier? An’ why are you helping me? And why did you claim me as your niece when I’ve never seen you before in my life?” Her eyes darted around the room, obviously taking note of her surroundings. Possibly even trying to find weapons. Clever girl, this. He’d have to handle this carefully.
“I’ve known the Doctor for a very long time. Any of his companions are welcome here. As for claiming you as my niece, well, it was easier than claiming you as a UNIT agent. I apologise for the deception.”
“The Doctor never mentioned you,” she said carefully.
He laughed. “Course he didn’t. The Doctor doesn’t much like talking about his past. Suffice to say that we worked closely together for many years.” He paused for a moment, considering. “Please, Miss Tyler, if you would come with me? I’d much rather have the rest of this conversation in more secure surroundings.”
She glanced at the door once and then nodded. “All right.”
He led her upstairs, taking her to one of the interior rooms. It wouldn’t do for Torchwood to manage to get their hands on this girl now that she was in his custody. If only he’d got here sooner. He might’ve been able to help her earlier, if not managed to warn the Doctor before he got into whatever trouble he’d found himself in. The instant Torchwood had started stirring themselves into a bit of a tizzy, he was intrigued. But when someone had mentioned the Doctor, he had stirred himself from his estate and moved into London proper.
He might be retired, but there was little that escaped his notice. His contacts informed him the instant something happened concerning the Doctor. He still had some pull here. But what he was most concerned about was why Torchwood was chasing after the Doctor’s companion. His Cardiff contact had mentioned her before, and told him that if she ever came to him for help to do whatever he could. Even without his contact’s reassurance, he would’ve helped this girl. “Can I offer you some tea, Miss Tyler? I believe we might be able to find some biscuits, too, if you would like something to eat.”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. Can’t afford to waste the time. I’m sorry for bein’ blunt, but there’s nothing for it. Someone’s taken the Doctor, an’ I think they were the ones who were coming after me. Can you help me?”
“Torchwood has the Doctor?” That couldn’t stand. Yvonne Hartmann had expressed interest in obtaining his friend before. If she’d managed it now, well, that wouldn’t do at all.
“I’ve heard that name before. What’s Torchwood?”
“They fancy themselves to be the British version of UNIT, but they’re far more ruthless. They don’t follow regulations or standard rules of combat. They simply take what they want regardless of due process. They believe that anything alien is dangerous and needs to be contained. They also believe that if it is alien - technology or a being - it belongs to them. If they have the Doctor, it doesn’t bode well for any of us.” Where would Miss Hartmann hold the Doctor? He was a high profile captive, after all. If Downing Street had word that the Doctor was being held captive, he was certain the Prime Minister would object.
Could that be why Torchwood was after Rose? So she couldn’t alert the Prime Minister, or any one of the Doctor’s other friends? That was possible, of course, but he rather thought the more likely scenario was that Torchwood wanted Rose for the leverage they’d have over the Doctor. There was little the man wouldn’t do for a friend, especially not if they were one of his chosen few.
“How can we save him? If they’re like UNIT...”
“They’re nothing like UNIT,” he countered, a snap in his voice, though he tempered it as he continued. “We don’t chase after the Doctor’s companions, or threaten them with injury if they don’t agree to come with us. Now, I’d like you to tell me everything. From the beginning, if you don’t mind.”
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am. He’s not responding to any inquiries. From these readings, it looks like he’s in some sort of coma.” The technician cringed away at her look of fury.
“Wake him up,” she snarled. “Use anything you have to. Any sort of stimulant.”
“But, ma’am, we don’t know how his physiology will react to any of our normal techniques. We could kill him.”
Yvonne’s eyes narrowed. That would be unacceptable. “You’d better hope - for your sake - that it doesn’t.”
***
Chapter 3: Rescue
x-posted to: dark_aegis, time_and_chips, hearts_in_time