Into Gethsemane (6/11)
Title: Into Gethsemane (6/11)
Author: nancybrown
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Lois, Johnson, Rupesh, Martha, Mickey, Tish, Rhys, John, Alice, Steven, OCs, many cameos
Pairings: mostly canon
Rating: R
Warnings: AUTHOR CHOOSES NOT TO WARN (but will answer PMs for any content questions)
Spoilers: up through COE
Words: 60,000 (6,300 this part)
Betas: eldarwannabe and fide_et_spe both performed major heavy lifting on this story, and have my deepest thanks for their efforts
Summary: A secret movement within the government successfully placed Lois Habiba as a spy inside Torchwood, and the trap is ready to be sprung. Meanwhile, Jack has received worrisome news, leading Gwen and Ianto from one danger into another. Loves, loyalties, and everyone's lives are on the line as the force behind the conspiracy finally comes to light.
A/N: Final fic in a fake third series where Lois, Johnson, and Rupesh have joined the team. Can be read as a stand-alone but will make more sense in context of the other stories.
Master Post
Chapter Five
***
Chapter Six
***
This wasn't the first time Rhys had come face to face with a gun in the hand of the woman he loved, and he'd be just as bloody furious as the last time if he wasn't so pleased to see her alive. Other troubles forgotten for the moment, he pulled her into a fierce hug and a quick peck of lips.
"Miss me?" he asked.
"Curious what took you so long."
He glanced back. "Jack dead?"
"For now. There's worse." Her face clouded over, and he nodded.
"I heard. I'm sorry, love. He was a good man."
"Did you find them?" Tish came up behind him. Mickey had taken out two of the guards on their way in, and Tish had grabbed their weapons. She looked a bit silly in her business suit with a machine gun, but Rhys wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud.
"You shouldn't be here," said Martha, before hugging her sister.
Rhys grabbed Jack under the other arm to help Perry carry him. Gwen and Tish took the lead. "Where are the rest of the guards?" Gwen asked quietly.
"Dunno. Most of them ran off in the other direction. We only had our two tour guides, and they'll be sleepin' that off for a bit."
Mickey waited for them at the entrance. The back of the hearse was open and ready.
"Everybody in."
A bullet ricocheted off the back of the van, and a second took out the back window, as Mickey gave Martha a hand up. Rhys, not one to miss a chance, repositioned his own dead man's carry of Captain Courageous to make sure the bullets hit Jack instead of him.
Gwen fired back, scaring the first assailant behind cover. That was his girl, and if he hadn't been busy trying not to get killed, he'd be puffing up his chest in pride. Instead, he dumped Jack unceremoniously into the van, heard the wake-up gasp of air, and slammed the door.
The instant his arse touched the seat, he changed gears and floored it. This van was designed for sedate driving, the respectful carriage of the dead. Now it was filled with tumbling people, and his wife aiming out the busted back window, hurling foul-mouthed epithets like she did when the match was on.
"Hang on!" he shouted, fuelled with adrenalin and not a little madness, as he drove as fast as the poor little engine would carry them back towards the gate. Some idiot of a soldier boy stood in front of the gate. Rhys didn't slow down. The kid was bright enough to dodge out of the way right before the van roared through the gate, scratching and scraping the broken wooden rail.
There was no way they could outrun the military vehicles sure to be in pursuit.
"Go left." Jack had climbed up to the front, heedless of the jerking and jostling.
"You're dead. You don't know where we are."
"I've been here before. Left now!"
Muttering about intergalactic know-it-alls, Rhys yanked on the steering wheel, throwing the rest of them into the side of the van.
"And watch the corners," Jack chided. "There's an access road down here."
"They'll hunt us down."
"Maybe not."
The gravel-paved access road slowed them down. Rhys could only drive so fast when the wheels threatened to skid out from beneath them. Every few seconds he checked his mirrors, watching for pursuit. There was no way they wouldn't be followed.
"Go right," Jack said. Rhys hadn't even seen the little dirt road leading away deep into the trees. The middle of nowhere, this was, and night fallen around them, and Jack seemed to know the space like his own flat. The dirt slowed them down further, but with every metre, Rhys felt his hopes rising nonetheless. This was going to work. They were going to escape. Bloody UNIT, they'd show them.
With a loud thump, the van skidded and came to a stop.
"Tyre," said Rhys. He climbed out to confirm, Jack following. The front left tyre had punctured and shredded on a tree root. "Check for a spare."
"No time," Jack said, pointing down the road. Rhys couldn't see anything, but he heard the engines. Jack slammed a palm on the side of the van. "Everybody out!"
The wooded area was Rhys's idea of Boy Scout Hell, but he took Gwen's hand and ducked through the undergrowth as fast as his feet would carry him. "Stay together," Gwen said, but Jack shouted, "Split up!"
Gwen tugged Rhys closer. "Like hell. Rhys, where are we?"
"Ferndale. The Clydach Reservoir isn't far."
"All right. Jack! If we're separated, we'll meet back at Cardiff."
Rhys squeezed her hand. "We oughtn't be anywhere near Cardiff." Perry came up behind them, joining their flight. He'd come over for Christmas on Gwen's invitation: nice bloke, quiet, making the best of his life in the future. He'd stayed at a Torchwood-owned safe house when he'd first come to 2009. Rhys said, "The safe house!" Martha had been there. As long as Mickey and Tish stayed close to her or to Jack, they'd come to the same location.
They ran. Rhys lost track of everyone but Gwen and Perry. He hated this, hated the woods, hated all of it, but the three of them pushed through together. For a while, he heard the sounds of soldiers, but the voices faded away as dusk turned to full night.
Finally, exhausted, they found a small clearing. Gwen sat down, her back against a log, eyes closing in weariness. Rhys plopped down beside her, back and legs aching. He was still in his mortician's suit, hopelessly ruined now with stains and rips.
Perry took a quick walk around the small area. "We'll need better shelter." He rubbed his arms. "We’re warm now from running, but we can't stay out in damp clothes tonight."
Gwen started shivering beside Rhys, and he wrapped his arms around her.
"We'll rest for a while," she said. "We can't go on much longer. It's a clear night." She pointed. "That's the North Star. If we head south, we can reach a road. Then we just need a car."
Perry said, "And how do you suppose we'll get one?"
"Simple." She closed her eyes and leaned back. "I was a copper, you know. You learn tricks. I can get us into a locked car in under a minute, and I can hotwire it in under five."
Rhys was getting used to Perry's confused face. "'Hotwire?'"
"I'll show you."
***
Mickey had lost sight of everyone. Some rescue mission this was, but he'd never have been able to forgive himself if he hadn't tried. Given the growing darkness, and his complete lack of direction, he would just about succeed in getting himself hopelessly lost and picked up.
Some days, he thought he'd have been better off back in the other universe. Sure, he'd been feeling aimless there, and watching Rose get all cuddly with her new pet Doctor would have been about as pleasant as a root canal, and his Gran was gone, and ... Okay, this universe wasn't half bad, leastways most of the time.
He paused to catch his breath against a tree. Once upon a time, he'd thought about heading off to the woods, becoming that kind of man who lived off the land and cut his own firewood, and wasn't beholden to anybody. But Mickey knew himself to be a city boy through and through, and he was lost. He heard someone approaching, and hid as best he could in a crouch. It was dark. Maybe the searchers wouldn't find him, and if they did, he'd give them what for before they took him in.
Jack and Martha appeared. Mickey relaxed. As he stood up, Jack went into fight mode and almost clubbed him before Mickey hissed, "Stop it! It's me!"
"Thank God," Martha said. She was breathing hard and she looked haggard. Martha had walked across the Earth, Jack had told him, but Mickey guessed she hadn't been carrying an extra stone of baby weight at the time.
"Where's the others?" asked Mickey.
Jack said, "I heard Gwen and Rhys go off. I saw Tish and Perry with them."
Martha sat down beside the tree. "Tom's going to be out of his mind worrying. Mum, too."
Jack said, "Tell them to blame me if they want."
"They will. Did you know, Tom actually implied you and I were having an affair?" She sighed.
Jack helped Martha back to her feet. "Good thing we found ourselves a chaperone then."
Mickey glanced at them. Sure, Martha and Jack flirted, but Jack flirted with everyone. Scratch that. Jack used to flirt with everyone, but Mickey had seen him turn down a hot ginger Time Lady, and he hadn't even been untoward or grabby around Rose. If anything, Jack treated Martha like his little sister, and Mickey like an annoying but loved little brother. He wasn't the same man he'd once been. Martha could explain that to her bloke, it wasn't Mickey's business.
Mickey said, "If we can get back to the car, we can drive. I hid it so they might not've found it yet."
As they walked, Mickey stayed close to them, but at a knowing glance from Martha, he made an effort to drop back a few paces and give them the illusion of a little privacy as she took Jack's hand.
"How are you holding up?" she asked him in a low voice.
At first, he had his usual bullshit, "Fine," but even in the dark, Mickey could see Martha's disbelief, and it melted Jack like butter in a microwave. "I've been better."
"If you want to talk about it ... "
He cut her off. "I can't. Not ... not now." Without his hero façade, Jack was smaller in the dark forest. "I'll find a way to get all of you to safety. I swear. But after that, I don't know." He was quiet, and the only sounds were the few animals still stirring in the winter cold, and their footsteps through last autumn's decayed leaves. "I may need to ask a favour of you."
"Anything. You know that."
"I'll want you to make a call for me. The Doctor offered me a ride. I think I'm done with Earth for a while. Maybe a long while."
They continued walking. Martha said, after a long time, "I can call him."
***
She was utterly, hopelessly lost. Tish had gone camping exactly once, out with the Guides in a tent with three other girls, and she remembered nothing. Tonight dusk had taken away her bearings, and she'd lost the rest following Gwen and her husband. When they'd run too far out of sight, she'd doubled back, hoping to catch up with Martha or Jack or Mickey or anyone.
At last, she gave herself up for lost, and sat down. One lesson from the Guides had stuck: when lost in the woods, stay put. Someone will find you.
She heard footsteps crackling through the trees, and breathed a sigh of relief. In this darkness, she couldn't ...
They had a torch. None of her friends had a torch. Before she could run, a hand clamped on her arm, and squeezed hard enough to grind bone, dragging her closer. Tish was ready to strike with her knee but she saw his gun. She relaxed, with an effort.
"Good girl." She didn't know his face or his voice. He shined the light into her eyes, blinding her. "Call your friends."
"I don't know where they went."
He squeezed her arm harder. "Then scream. They'll come for you." She clamped down on her pain, staring through him as the agony shot up into her shoulder. Yes, if she cried out, if she screamed, they would come back for her. Which was why she wasn't going to scream, if she had to bite off her own tongue to prevent herself.
He pulled her close, and she could smell his sweat, stale and unpleasant. "I'll break it. And if that doesn't work, I can find other ways to make you scream. Trust me."
Deep inside herself, Tish had a place she could go. When Dr. Lazarus had murmured his insidious little comments, when the Master had taken her hand and brushed her hair from her face, Tish could flee into her own locked room and scream inside at the mental walls. She'd never been raped, but she knew the fear in her belly, and she remembered the gentle, mocking whisper spoken only for her ears: the monster was saving her up like a sweet. "When your annoying fly of a sister is dead, when my rockets have launched to seize the universe in my name, when the Doctor knows he has well and truly lost everything forever," his breath had tickled the hair on her neck, "then your good behaviour, my dear, will determine whether I make your parents watch." His lips had brushed her skin, feather-light, and no matter how much she'd washed, she'd felt unclean until she'd fled from her revulsion into that dark, inner room, and bolted the door.
The pressure on her arm increased. She closed her eyes.
"Stand down!"
Another soldier appeared behind the first. "Sir," said her captor, "I have one of them."
"I can see that. Miss Jones, if I'm not mistaken. We're under orders not to injure any of the prisoners, particularly Miss Jones and Doctor Jones. Unless you've forgotten?"
"No, sir." The pain in her arm remained, and with a grin, he let her go. Tish drew her arm in and rubbed the throbbing away. She would have to wear long sleeves until the bruises faded. It wasn't the first time.
The soldiers were under orders not to hurt her or Martha. Because they weren't Torchwood, or because Mum had already got through to someone? She had no way to know, but she hoped nonetheless.
"Miss Jones, I'll allow you to walk yourself. But you are under arrest and in our custody, and don't think about running."
***
Mr. Gloucester examined the number on his mobile before answering. "This had better be important."
"They've escaped," said the Governor.
Anger thrilled through him, but he kept his voice calm. "And how did that happen?"
"Cooper's husband, sir. He and Smith mounted a rescue. They also freed the Carters. I have some good news," she said hurriedly. "Letitia Jones was helping them. We've captured her."
He made a fist and relaxed it. One remained out of several prizes, but this was a valuable catch: Letitia Jones with her wide eyes and pretty little pout. "Put out a manhunt for the others. Use the terrorist cover story. Send Miss Jones to Cardiff."
"Are you certain?"
"There are cells in the Torchwood base. I'll want her close by." Should Letitia not be an acceptable offering, he could request she be made part of his own payment for his loyalty. "In the meantime, we need to secure the Torchwood base in Scotland. If our plans do not work as hoped, perhaps something there will aid us."
"Acknowledged."
***
Alice signed the visitors' log with a false name, then let the nurse lead her to Frank's room. The first bed was empty, with rumpled sheets. The second was hidden behind a curtain. "Thank you," Alice said to the nurse. "We'll be fine from here."
She edged around the curtain. An old man, wisps of white hair around his wrinkled face, lay dozing. Blue veins stood in contrast to paper-thin pale skin. Medical equipment lined the wall behind him, monitoring. With a sharp, unexpected sadness, she realised how near to death he was. Perhaps he'd be safer here. She turned.
"Who's there, then?" His voice was reedy, but awake.
She looked at him, trying to smile. "Frank? You're Frank, right? Not Sam?" Even as she asked, she traced the features, the line of his jaw and the curve of his eyes, and if Jack could grow old, this was the man he'd be.
"Sam's gone to the common room. Only time I get my own space these days. Did you need him?"
"Frank, it's Alice." She went to his bedside, taking in the framed pictures of his children and grandchildren. His family. Alice's family.
"Alice?" He blinked in confusion, and then a smile lit his face, shining through the age, very clearly the image of their father. "I'm so glad," he said, patting her hand. "So glad. Why did you come?"
"Jack's in trouble." He greeted this news with a sigh. "Someone is trying to hurt him. They kidnapped me and my son, and I'm afraid they'll come after you next."
"No-one knows about me, dear. Except the two of you, and that teenager he's dating." His eyes got wider. "Oh, the phones. They're going to use the phones."
"You know about that?"
"They do it all the time on Law & Order." He sat up, and she helped. "Jack hasn't met my children. They can't be held against his good behaviour. That's what this is about, yeah?"
"Yeah."
He pulled at an electrode with tired fingers. "Help me get free of this mess before Sam comes back. Do you have a car?"
"Better."
***
Ianto hadn't felt comfortable sending Alice alone with Hart to fetch her brother, but there was no good alternative. She was right; Frank was a liability. Even if they didn't use the phone records, Phil had mentioned him in front of the team. If Alice and Steven weren't available to be used as pawns, Frank was the next logical choice.
Ianto spent his time worrying, minding Steven with half an eye, and booting up all the defensive systems on the property. Hart's VM could get in and out, but anyone else who tried would soon find themselves perforated, blown up, or vaporised. He left Alice the codes to deactivate everything just in case.
As Ianto scanned for news, his heart gave a jump: the prisoners had just been reported missing. A massive manhunt had been ordered to recapture them, not just Jack, Gwen and Perry, but Martha, Mickey, and even Johnson, with Rhys listed as a Person Of Interest in their escape. Ianto himself was listed as deceased. So was Trent. No mention of Lois or Rupesh.
With a sinking feeling, Ianto hacked into one of Mainframe's remote systems using Tosh's credentials. He'd deleted her login after her death, then had been surprised and heartbroken all over again the following month when an automatic systems from her secondary account had sent him a reminder. He hadn't been able to bring himself to delete that one as well. Now he could use it to track recent activity at the Hub.
Someone was attempting to access the Rift manipulator. Flashbacks to Abaddon pummelled his conscience.
Lois and Rupesh had both logged on within the past two hours. As he watched, Rupesh signed on. There remained a chance the two of them were friendlies and had chosen to stay behind in order to help free Jack and the rest. Ianto wanted to believe. He liked Rupesh well enough, despite Jack's misgivings, and Lois was his friend as well as his protégé. She'd become a confidante of sorts after their mutually friendly one night stand months ago. But someone had been leaking information, and as the despair bloomed, so did his certainty. Who knew better than he what secrets the secretary kept?
In Tosh's account, Ianto opened an IM window to Rupesh. "I see what you're doing." Then he logged off and scrubbed the access trail.
Alice, Frank, and Hart materialised in the front hallway. Frank wore his hospital gown under a dressing gown, and his skin sagged on him in a way that made him look even more frail than the last time Ianto had seen him. He hurried to Frank's side, helping Alice lead him to one of the near rooms.
"It's good to see you again. I'm sorry for the circumstances."
"You again, eh?" Frank managed an impish smile. "But it's been more than a week."
"Very funny," said Ianto, as Alice said, "I know, I know, it's incredibly odd."
"It's not that odd." Carefully, he helped Frank sit down.
Alice said, "Jack and my mother dated for six months."
"I don't know if he properly courted my mother. She told my brother and me he offered to marry her once, but she didn't think he was serious." Frank took a few deep breaths. "I'm not ready to rest yet. I've heard so much about this place. I always wanted to see it."
"Alice can give you the grand tour later. Alice, I need to show you a few things before John and I leave."
"You're going?" Ianto wondered if he imagined the disappointment in Frank's voice. "But we've just arrived."
"Jack's in trouble. I have to find him." That one fact drove him, and had not changed. "The three of you will be safe here." He hoped. "Alice?"
"Steven, in here, please." The little boy scampered into the room. "Steven, this is ... " She paused. "This is Uncle Frank. I'd like you to stay with him while Mr. Jones shows me something. Be very good."
"Yes, Mum." Steven climbed onto the bed and sat next to Frank. "Hello."
"Hello, Steven. Your mother's told me so much about you."
"Are you my grandfather?"
That caught everyone's attention. "No," said Frank. "Why do you ask?"
"Mum talks about my grandfather sometimes." Steven looked at Alice. "Just yesterday you said you were going to kill him the next time you saw him."
"Don't mind what I say," said Alice. "Now be good for Uncle Frank."
Ianto led her to the control room. "The system is fairly intuitive. The grounds are watched here, the weapons stores are here but you should keep the doors locked when you're not in there. You and Frank should arm yourselves. Did Jack teach you how to fire a gun?"
"No. Mum did."
Once again, he fitted a new piece into his mental puzzle picture of Lucia. This wasn't the time nor the place, but he expected to die soon, and he wanted to know. "How badly would your mother have hated me?"
Alice examined him from head to toe, then gave a half-shrug. "She wouldn't have noticed you." That hurt, but not as much as it could have. "Dad never brought any of his lovers to meet us. I met a few by accident on weekends he had custody. He said he was babysitting for a friend." She cleared her throat. "If she thought you were worth it, she'd have warned you not to get too involved, and told you he's dangerous, but I'm guessing it's too late to warn you."
"A bit." He gulped air. "John and I are headed to the Hub. If I can get into the systems on-site, I may be able to track Jack, or help him in some way." He had no other ideas. Jack could vanish from sight, could vanish from the world, but Ianto would spend the rest of his life if he must searching for where he'd gone. Mainframe was his best place to start. If nothing else, Ianto could raid the Archives for more weapons to defend the estate here.
"Or you'll be caught and executed."
That had occurred to him as well. "Which is why you're safer here than with us. Do what you have to." He showed her one more thing. "And if the worst comes down, we have one last surprise."
***
Rupesh startled as the chat box appeared and Dr. Sato typed: "I see what you're doing."
"What's wrong?" Lois came up behind his chair. He pointed.
"She's dead."
Lois shivered. During the incident four months ago with the ghost bracelet, Ianto had heard Dr. Sato's voice, and he'd told Lois later down the pub that he'd heard her again even when the bracelet was deactivated. Voices in his head, he'd said, and taken a long drink. She knew about his mother from his records, and understood his real fear, but as that hadn't been knowledge she should have access to, she'd merely promised not to tell Jack or Gwen.
"It's probably an automatic watchdog programme." Still, she felt Sato's eyes on her from across the Hub: the snap of Sato and Harper that Gwen had taped to her workstation but for some reason had not taken with her to Scotland.
Rupesh didn't buy the explanation. "I thought Fletcher scrubbed the last of those."
"And he missed one. Call him in prison and complain if you want."
Mr. Gloucester appeared at her elbow, and she hid her own startle. "That may be a problem," he said.
***
Being the only one of his colleagues who still believed in Hell, Perry was certain that lifting a car from a church parking lot no doubt bought him a ticket directly to those crimson-hued gates. Gwen hadn't been put out in the slightest, even taking obvious enjoyment in showing Perry how to remove the steering column and which wires to attach. Once he saw the method, the system made perfect sense.
"You were a policewoman?" he asked incredulously. "What do they train the police to do these days?"
"Ah, well." She looked outside the car window to where her husband kept watch. "Y'see, there are generally two main reasons you find someone going into police work. My mate Andy's dad was a copper, and so was his granddad."
"What about your dad?"
"The other way," she said, without answering, "is to be a hellion in your teens, spend quality time in police stations, and straighten up enough to want to do it later."
"You stole cars?"
"Just one. I got caught before I got the second running." She coughed. "I was young and stupid, and it could have gone a lot worse for me. Useful skill, though."
The engine purred under them, and without even thinking, Perry listened for engine knocks and pings, diagnosing the little defects that would go wrong in six months or a year. Gwen glanced at him, and Perry nodded. This would take them as far as they needed without trouble.
"Let's go."
***
Mickey and Martha took opposite sides of the street to watch. Martha was uncomfortably aware of the CCTV cameras in the area, two of them pointing in Jack's direction, but they had no means of turning off the signal, nor of wiping the records. Odd, she thought, how working with UNIT and Torchwood had got her used to surveillance being optional and within her control rather than the other way around. Fortunately, no-one was about at this hour in Pontyprydd. Jack waved his okay, and the three of them headed towards the car.
"Good news," he said as they got in. "Five hundred pounds. We won't starve. That's not fun, let me tell you."
Martha asked, "What does this make our tally?"
"Mickey stole the car in London, he's evading capture and we broke out of prison. I just robbed a cash point. He and I are looking at eight to ten. You can get off with a plea."
Mickey said, "I'm not sharing a cell with you, Jack."
"Once this is over, we can deal with the records and put things back. It'll be fine." He'd lost his smile again. "When we reach Cardiff, we'll find a car park and get some sleep."
"What about the safe house?" Martha had pleasant memories of the place. It was simple, but functional for their needs, and she longed for a bed.
"I'll case it before we go in. We can't be sure the location hasn't been compromised. If we're lucky, they won't bother looking, but I won't risk the rest of you until I'm sure Lois hasn't already told them about it."
Mickey drove. "Funny thing, you trusting her. I thought you didn't trust people."
"I do," Jack said, stretching out. "I trust the two of you."
Martha said, "Lois was sent by the home office, though." She hadn't processed her anger yet. She'd liked Lois, and she couldn't imagine the sweet, mousy PA as a traitor who'd murdered one of their friends. Martha wanted to believe there'd been some mistake, that Jack had misunderstood, but she didn't see how.
She wondered if Jack thought she was blaming him. She added, "You couldn't have known."
"I should have."
They each drifted inside their own thoughts as the dark road rolled by. Martha could feel her emotions getting the better of her again. She'd been in worse situations than this. Yes, she was on the run, far from home, and she missed Tom fiercely, but the world wasn't ending around her. She stole another glance at Jack's closed-off expression, his responsibilities to the rest of them choking him like a boa constrictor and leaving him no space to howl in pain and grief.
She would see Tom again, if she had to move the Earth itself to do it. Why not? She'd done it before.
***
She was dragged into the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night. Tish was tired, hungry, and frightened, and they had covered her head with a bag for the trip. Laughable: if she was going to Torchwood, she knew where the base was. Her sister had worked there. Her friend ran the place and emailed her dirty jokes from his work account.
When the bag was ripped off, she stood in the centre of a large room with an antique train station-cum-mad-scientist's-secret-lair motif, the space filled with equipment she didn't recognise. Above her, a large creature she couldn't see made unhappy noises.
As she waited with her captors, someone stepped out of a room on the top level, an all-glass enclosure with incongruously green plants.
"Miss Jones."
Tish's eyes went wide. "You!"
***
Gwen left Rhys and Perry in the car park two streets over from the safe house. She couldn't remember if they had anyone living there at the moment. The usual safe house residents were humans involved in minor incidents who nevertheless needed extra observation to ensure the Retcon held or to see if they needed to be relocated to Flat Holm for more intensive measures. Those decisions were made by Jack and enacted by the admins. The last thing the fugitives needed right now was to blow their cover by frightening some poor dear whose only crime was being in the wrong place when a Hoix got nasty.
Gwen put on an absent expression, made herself fall into the role of any other busy person on this street late at night, nothing to see here.
On her first walk past, she looked for any sign of lights poking out from between the blackout curtains, past the high privacy hedge. She couldn't see anything, a good sign. She walked to the end of the street, waited a few minutes, and began walking back.
As she neared the building, an arm grabbed her.
Gwen kicked out immediately, but a hand clamped firmly over her mouth as a powerful grip took her legs. "Sh," she heard, and she was tugged around to see Jack pulling his finger over his mouth.
He pointed. There was a gap between the curtains here, and she could see lights. She could also see the people moving from across the street towards the door, and them.
"Come on," he whispered, grabbing her hand. Together they fled into deeper darkness, until they were well clear. "I was checking the place before you got here. We can't use it."
She nodded, disappointed. "We need another location. Ianto mentioned a warehouse?"
She felt the tremor run through him at Ianto's name, a weakness he fought not to show, but his hand in hers betrayed him. She should have said it another way, but her mouth always ran half a mile ahead of the rest of her, Mam had told Gwen since she was small. "I mean ... "
"The warehouse is in the official records," Jack said in a soft, stiff voice.
"Jack, I'm sorry."
"Please don't."
She brushed the objection away. She needed to say this out loud for herself. "He was so brave, you'd have been so proud of him. As soon as we realised what was happening, he did everything he could to get me safe. But Lois poisoned the coffee she sent with us, and he had too much." The sense-memory returned: his knocking the flask away from her before she could drink. "He couldn't run, so he distracted them for me to get away."
Jack's grip on her hand had grown stronger as she spoke, and her bones ground together. With a force, she pulled away, massaging life back into the muscles and tendons.
She couldn't find words to apologise for what she'd never said out loud. For two years, she'd believed, or let herself believe, that whatever Jack had with Ianto wasn't worth half of what she had with Rhys. Inside the privacy of her own head, she'd watched them, assuming Jack had settled for an easy shag and Ianto had taken whatever scraps he might find after Lisa's death. Every time they squabbled, she'd viewed it as more proof of their incompatibility while her own quarrels with Rhys signified how two adults jostled a complex relationship into equal places for both. Gwen had waited patiently for the inevitable break-up, when Jack decided he wanted more excitement or Ianto decided he needed a lover who was more steadfast. She'd been so certain until she'd been to their home and seen contradicting evidence all around her, until Ianto had told her they were taking a break and she couldn't stop thinking about Jack touching his hand.
How could she ever apologise for failing to notice her two best friends had fallen in love right in front of her nose? And what did she say to Jack now that it was too late for them?
They were almost at the car. Jack said tightly, "You're parked close to here?" She nodded. "Meet me at 34 Lady Mary Road. Can you get there?"
She nodded again. "Another safe house?"
"In a way."
***
Mickey was dead on his feet by the time they parked in front of the block of flats. Jack helped Martha out of the car. "Park two streets over and come back," he ordered, not even bothering with a "please" or whatever. He'd come back from his look-around at Torchwood's safe house in an even worse mood than he'd gone, and gave directions in a clipped voice. Mickey kept reminding himself that Jack was having a bad day, and wasn't being a dick on purpose, and Martha could bloody well deal with him if he was.
A few minutes later, he'd jogged back to find Jack coming up with something from under a rock.
"House key?" asked Mickey, and Martha nodded.
"He owns the flat."
"I own the whole building. Joshua Harding, if anyone asks," Jack said, as another car pulled up beside them.
All three tensed, and then Rhys's distinctive voice came through the small garden: "Is this it, then?" He got out of the car. Mickey heard two more doors in the dark.
"Over here," Martha said, then craned her neck, as Gwen and Perry came over with Rhys. "Where's Tish?"
Gwen said, "Isn't she with you?"
Alarm soaked into Martha's voice, and Mickey placed a careful hand on her arm as she said, "We thought she was with you."
"That's a problem," said Rhys.
Martha said, "We have to go back."
"Can't," said Mickey. "We don't know where she's gone."
"Everyone inside," said Jack, loud enough to get their attention. "Now." He held the door open and ushered the others into the building. "Quiet." They hurried up the stairs to the top floor, and Jack unlocked the door to one flat.
He turned on the overhead light. "The place has been empty for a while. The last tenants left in a rush."
"Rift?" asked Perry.
"No, they owed someone money." Jack sat heavily onto the sofa and closed his eyes.
Mickey took a quick look around. The flat was furnished with simple, plain items. No linens, nothing in the fridge, and a glance in the loo made him glad to be a bloke; the girls would be wanting for bog roll soon enough. But Jack seemed to think it was a good hideout. They needed something: a quick check of their stolen weapons showed they were out of ammunition.
Jack said, "There's one bed in the back. Martha and Gwen can kip in there, the rest of us are out here."
"We can't stay here long," said Gwen. "People will notice."
"We'll split off again in the morning. I need to get the rest of you out of the country. When that's done, I'll turn myself in, in exchange for Alice, Steven, and Tish." He didn't open his eyes. Mickey had never heard him sound so tired.
"No, you bloody won't," Gwen snapped. "We are getting out of this together, all of us."
Martha looked terribly upset as well. "I should go with you. They're only after Tish because of me." And there was something to that, something more, because Jack did open his eyes then.
"It's not your fault, it's mine. Just like before. We will get her back safely, Martha. I swear."
"We've got to go to the authorities," Gwen said. "The real authorities. This can't possibly be legal."
Perry said, "They said they had charges against us from Lucy Saxon's case."
"Told you," Jack said to Martha, who only shivered.
Gwen said, "We need to fight them."
"Sweetheart," said Rhys, "we'll all think better after a few hours of sleep."
Unsatisfied, Gwen went into the back with Martha, and they shut the door. Mickey heard them talk for a long time, and he thought he heard Martha crying.
In the dark hours just before dawn, from his uncomfortable sleep on the floor, Mickey heard Jack go out alone.
***
Chapter Seven
Author: nancybrown
Characters: Jack, Ianto, Gwen, Lois, Johnson, Rupesh, Martha, Mickey, Tish, Rhys, John, Alice, Steven, OCs, many cameos
Pairings: mostly canon
Rating: R
Warnings: AUTHOR CHOOSES NOT TO WARN (but will answer PMs for any content questions)
Spoilers: up through COE
Words: 60,000 (6,300 this part)
Betas: eldarwannabe and fide_et_spe both performed major heavy lifting on this story, and have my deepest thanks for their efforts
Summary: A secret movement within the government successfully placed Lois Habiba as a spy inside Torchwood, and the trap is ready to be sprung. Meanwhile, Jack has received worrisome news, leading Gwen and Ianto from one danger into another. Loves, loyalties, and everyone's lives are on the line as the force behind the conspiracy finally comes to light.
A/N: Final fic in a fake third series where Lois, Johnson, and Rupesh have joined the team. Can be read as a stand-alone but will make more sense in context of the other stories.
Master Post
Chapter Five
***
Chapter Six
***
This wasn't the first time Rhys had come face to face with a gun in the hand of the woman he loved, and he'd be just as bloody furious as the last time if he wasn't so pleased to see her alive. Other troubles forgotten for the moment, he pulled her into a fierce hug and a quick peck of lips.
"Miss me?" he asked.
"Curious what took you so long."
He glanced back. "Jack dead?"
"For now. There's worse." Her face clouded over, and he nodded.
"I heard. I'm sorry, love. He was a good man."
"Did you find them?" Tish came up behind him. Mickey had taken out two of the guards on their way in, and Tish had grabbed their weapons. She looked a bit silly in her business suit with a machine gun, but Rhys wasn't stupid enough to say it out loud.
"You shouldn't be here," said Martha, before hugging her sister.
Rhys grabbed Jack under the other arm to help Perry carry him. Gwen and Tish took the lead. "Where are the rest of the guards?" Gwen asked quietly.
"Dunno. Most of them ran off in the other direction. We only had our two tour guides, and they'll be sleepin' that off for a bit."
Mickey waited for them at the entrance. The back of the hearse was open and ready.
"Everybody in."
A bullet ricocheted off the back of the van, and a second took out the back window, as Mickey gave Martha a hand up. Rhys, not one to miss a chance, repositioned his own dead man's carry of Captain Courageous to make sure the bullets hit Jack instead of him.
Gwen fired back, scaring the first assailant behind cover. That was his girl, and if he hadn't been busy trying not to get killed, he'd be puffing up his chest in pride. Instead, he dumped Jack unceremoniously into the van, heard the wake-up gasp of air, and slammed the door.
The instant his arse touched the seat, he changed gears and floored it. This van was designed for sedate driving, the respectful carriage of the dead. Now it was filled with tumbling people, and his wife aiming out the busted back window, hurling foul-mouthed epithets like she did when the match was on.
"Hang on!" he shouted, fuelled with adrenalin and not a little madness, as he drove as fast as the poor little engine would carry them back towards the gate. Some idiot of a soldier boy stood in front of the gate. Rhys didn't slow down. The kid was bright enough to dodge out of the way right before the van roared through the gate, scratching and scraping the broken wooden rail.
There was no way they could outrun the military vehicles sure to be in pursuit.
"Go left." Jack had climbed up to the front, heedless of the jerking and jostling.
"You're dead. You don't know where we are."
"I've been here before. Left now!"
Muttering about intergalactic know-it-alls, Rhys yanked on the steering wheel, throwing the rest of them into the side of the van.
"And watch the corners," Jack chided. "There's an access road down here."
"They'll hunt us down."
"Maybe not."
The gravel-paved access road slowed them down. Rhys could only drive so fast when the wheels threatened to skid out from beneath them. Every few seconds he checked his mirrors, watching for pursuit. There was no way they wouldn't be followed.
"Go right," Jack said. Rhys hadn't even seen the little dirt road leading away deep into the trees. The middle of nowhere, this was, and night fallen around them, and Jack seemed to know the space like his own flat. The dirt slowed them down further, but with every metre, Rhys felt his hopes rising nonetheless. This was going to work. They were going to escape. Bloody UNIT, they'd show them.
With a loud thump, the van skidded and came to a stop.
"Tyre," said Rhys. He climbed out to confirm, Jack following. The front left tyre had punctured and shredded on a tree root. "Check for a spare."
"No time," Jack said, pointing down the road. Rhys couldn't see anything, but he heard the engines. Jack slammed a palm on the side of the van. "Everybody out!"
The wooded area was Rhys's idea of Boy Scout Hell, but he took Gwen's hand and ducked through the undergrowth as fast as his feet would carry him. "Stay together," Gwen said, but Jack shouted, "Split up!"
Gwen tugged Rhys closer. "Like hell. Rhys, where are we?"
"Ferndale. The Clydach Reservoir isn't far."
"All right. Jack! If we're separated, we'll meet back at Cardiff."
Rhys squeezed her hand. "We oughtn't be anywhere near Cardiff." Perry came up behind them, joining their flight. He'd come over for Christmas on Gwen's invitation: nice bloke, quiet, making the best of his life in the future. He'd stayed at a Torchwood-owned safe house when he'd first come to 2009. Rhys said, "The safe house!" Martha had been there. As long as Mickey and Tish stayed close to her or to Jack, they'd come to the same location.
They ran. Rhys lost track of everyone but Gwen and Perry. He hated this, hated the woods, hated all of it, but the three of them pushed through together. For a while, he heard the sounds of soldiers, but the voices faded away as dusk turned to full night.
Finally, exhausted, they found a small clearing. Gwen sat down, her back against a log, eyes closing in weariness. Rhys plopped down beside her, back and legs aching. He was still in his mortician's suit, hopelessly ruined now with stains and rips.
Perry took a quick walk around the small area. "We'll need better shelter." He rubbed his arms. "We’re warm now from running, but we can't stay out in damp clothes tonight."
Gwen started shivering beside Rhys, and he wrapped his arms around her.
"We'll rest for a while," she said. "We can't go on much longer. It's a clear night." She pointed. "That's the North Star. If we head south, we can reach a road. Then we just need a car."
Perry said, "And how do you suppose we'll get one?"
"Simple." She closed her eyes and leaned back. "I was a copper, you know. You learn tricks. I can get us into a locked car in under a minute, and I can hotwire it in under five."
Rhys was getting used to Perry's confused face. "'Hotwire?'"
"I'll show you."
***
Mickey had lost sight of everyone. Some rescue mission this was, but he'd never have been able to forgive himself if he hadn't tried. Given the growing darkness, and his complete lack of direction, he would just about succeed in getting himself hopelessly lost and picked up.
Some days, he thought he'd have been better off back in the other universe. Sure, he'd been feeling aimless there, and watching Rose get all cuddly with her new pet Doctor would have been about as pleasant as a root canal, and his Gran was gone, and ... Okay, this universe wasn't half bad, leastways most of the time.
He paused to catch his breath against a tree. Once upon a time, he'd thought about heading off to the woods, becoming that kind of man who lived off the land and cut his own firewood, and wasn't beholden to anybody. But Mickey knew himself to be a city boy through and through, and he was lost. He heard someone approaching, and hid as best he could in a crouch. It was dark. Maybe the searchers wouldn't find him, and if they did, he'd give them what for before they took him in.
Jack and Martha appeared. Mickey relaxed. As he stood up, Jack went into fight mode and almost clubbed him before Mickey hissed, "Stop it! It's me!"
"Thank God," Martha said. She was breathing hard and she looked haggard. Martha had walked across the Earth, Jack had told him, but Mickey guessed she hadn't been carrying an extra stone of baby weight at the time.
"Where's the others?" asked Mickey.
Jack said, "I heard Gwen and Rhys go off. I saw Tish and Perry with them."
Martha sat down beside the tree. "Tom's going to be out of his mind worrying. Mum, too."
Jack said, "Tell them to blame me if they want."
"They will. Did you know, Tom actually implied you and I were having an affair?" She sighed.
Jack helped Martha back to her feet. "Good thing we found ourselves a chaperone then."
Mickey glanced at them. Sure, Martha and Jack flirted, but Jack flirted with everyone. Scratch that. Jack used to flirt with everyone, but Mickey had seen him turn down a hot ginger Time Lady, and he hadn't even been untoward or grabby around Rose. If anything, Jack treated Martha like his little sister, and Mickey like an annoying but loved little brother. He wasn't the same man he'd once been. Martha could explain that to her bloke, it wasn't Mickey's business.
Mickey said, "If we can get back to the car, we can drive. I hid it so they might not've found it yet."
As they walked, Mickey stayed close to them, but at a knowing glance from Martha, he made an effort to drop back a few paces and give them the illusion of a little privacy as she took Jack's hand.
"How are you holding up?" she asked him in a low voice.
At first, he had his usual bullshit, "Fine," but even in the dark, Mickey could see Martha's disbelief, and it melted Jack like butter in a microwave. "I've been better."
"If you want to talk about it ... "
He cut her off. "I can't. Not ... not now." Without his hero façade, Jack was smaller in the dark forest. "I'll find a way to get all of you to safety. I swear. But after that, I don't know." He was quiet, and the only sounds were the few animals still stirring in the winter cold, and their footsteps through last autumn's decayed leaves. "I may need to ask a favour of you."
"Anything. You know that."
"I'll want you to make a call for me. The Doctor offered me a ride. I think I'm done with Earth for a while. Maybe a long while."
They continued walking. Martha said, after a long time, "I can call him."
***
She was utterly, hopelessly lost. Tish had gone camping exactly once, out with the Guides in a tent with three other girls, and she remembered nothing. Tonight dusk had taken away her bearings, and she'd lost the rest following Gwen and her husband. When they'd run too far out of sight, she'd doubled back, hoping to catch up with Martha or Jack or Mickey or anyone.
At last, she gave herself up for lost, and sat down. One lesson from the Guides had stuck: when lost in the woods, stay put. Someone will find you.
She heard footsteps crackling through the trees, and breathed a sigh of relief. In this darkness, she couldn't ...
They had a torch. None of her friends had a torch. Before she could run, a hand clamped on her arm, and squeezed hard enough to grind bone, dragging her closer. Tish was ready to strike with her knee but she saw his gun. She relaxed, with an effort.
"Good girl." She didn't know his face or his voice. He shined the light into her eyes, blinding her. "Call your friends."
"I don't know where they went."
He squeezed her arm harder. "Then scream. They'll come for you." She clamped down on her pain, staring through him as the agony shot up into her shoulder. Yes, if she cried out, if she screamed, they would come back for her. Which was why she wasn't going to scream, if she had to bite off her own tongue to prevent herself.
He pulled her close, and she could smell his sweat, stale and unpleasant. "I'll break it. And if that doesn't work, I can find other ways to make you scream. Trust me."
Deep inside herself, Tish had a place she could go. When Dr. Lazarus had murmured his insidious little comments, when the Master had taken her hand and brushed her hair from her face, Tish could flee into her own locked room and scream inside at the mental walls. She'd never been raped, but she knew the fear in her belly, and she remembered the gentle, mocking whisper spoken only for her ears: the monster was saving her up like a sweet. "When your annoying fly of a sister is dead, when my rockets have launched to seize the universe in my name, when the Doctor knows he has well and truly lost everything forever," his breath had tickled the hair on her neck, "then your good behaviour, my dear, will determine whether I make your parents watch." His lips had brushed her skin, feather-light, and no matter how much she'd washed, she'd felt unclean until she'd fled from her revulsion into that dark, inner room, and bolted the door.
The pressure on her arm increased. She closed her eyes.
"Stand down!"
Another soldier appeared behind the first. "Sir," said her captor, "I have one of them."
"I can see that. Miss Jones, if I'm not mistaken. We're under orders not to injure any of the prisoners, particularly Miss Jones and Doctor Jones. Unless you've forgotten?"
"No, sir." The pain in her arm remained, and with a grin, he let her go. Tish drew her arm in and rubbed the throbbing away. She would have to wear long sleeves until the bruises faded. It wasn't the first time.
The soldiers were under orders not to hurt her or Martha. Because they weren't Torchwood, or because Mum had already got through to someone? She had no way to know, but she hoped nonetheless.
"Miss Jones, I'll allow you to walk yourself. But you are under arrest and in our custody, and don't think about running."
***
Mr. Gloucester examined the number on his mobile before answering. "This had better be important."
"They've escaped," said the Governor.
Anger thrilled through him, but he kept his voice calm. "And how did that happen?"
"Cooper's husband, sir. He and Smith mounted a rescue. They also freed the Carters. I have some good news," she said hurriedly. "Letitia Jones was helping them. We've captured her."
He made a fist and relaxed it. One remained out of several prizes, but this was a valuable catch: Letitia Jones with her wide eyes and pretty little pout. "Put out a manhunt for the others. Use the terrorist cover story. Send Miss Jones to Cardiff."
"Are you certain?"
"There are cells in the Torchwood base. I'll want her close by." Should Letitia not be an acceptable offering, he could request she be made part of his own payment for his loyalty. "In the meantime, we need to secure the Torchwood base in Scotland. If our plans do not work as hoped, perhaps something there will aid us."
"Acknowledged."
***
Alice signed the visitors' log with a false name, then let the nurse lead her to Frank's room. The first bed was empty, with rumpled sheets. The second was hidden behind a curtain. "Thank you," Alice said to the nurse. "We'll be fine from here."
She edged around the curtain. An old man, wisps of white hair around his wrinkled face, lay dozing. Blue veins stood in contrast to paper-thin pale skin. Medical equipment lined the wall behind him, monitoring. With a sharp, unexpected sadness, she realised how near to death he was. Perhaps he'd be safer here. She turned.
"Who's there, then?" His voice was reedy, but awake.
She looked at him, trying to smile. "Frank? You're Frank, right? Not Sam?" Even as she asked, she traced the features, the line of his jaw and the curve of his eyes, and if Jack could grow old, this was the man he'd be.
"Sam's gone to the common room. Only time I get my own space these days. Did you need him?"
"Frank, it's Alice." She went to his bedside, taking in the framed pictures of his children and grandchildren. His family. Alice's family.
"Alice?" He blinked in confusion, and then a smile lit his face, shining through the age, very clearly the image of their father. "I'm so glad," he said, patting her hand. "So glad. Why did you come?"
"Jack's in trouble." He greeted this news with a sigh. "Someone is trying to hurt him. They kidnapped me and my son, and I'm afraid they'll come after you next."
"No-one knows about me, dear. Except the two of you, and that teenager he's dating." His eyes got wider. "Oh, the phones. They're going to use the phones."
"You know about that?"
"They do it all the time on Law & Order." He sat up, and she helped. "Jack hasn't met my children. They can't be held against his good behaviour. That's what this is about, yeah?"
"Yeah."
He pulled at an electrode with tired fingers. "Help me get free of this mess before Sam comes back. Do you have a car?"
"Better."
***
Ianto hadn't felt comfortable sending Alice alone with Hart to fetch her brother, but there was no good alternative. She was right; Frank was a liability. Even if they didn't use the phone records, Phil had mentioned him in front of the team. If Alice and Steven weren't available to be used as pawns, Frank was the next logical choice.
Ianto spent his time worrying, minding Steven with half an eye, and booting up all the defensive systems on the property. Hart's VM could get in and out, but anyone else who tried would soon find themselves perforated, blown up, or vaporised. He left Alice the codes to deactivate everything just in case.
As Ianto scanned for news, his heart gave a jump: the prisoners had just been reported missing. A massive manhunt had been ordered to recapture them, not just Jack, Gwen and Perry, but Martha, Mickey, and even Johnson, with Rhys listed as a Person Of Interest in their escape. Ianto himself was listed as deceased. So was Trent. No mention of Lois or Rupesh.
With a sinking feeling, Ianto hacked into one of Mainframe's remote systems using Tosh's credentials. He'd deleted her login after her death, then had been surprised and heartbroken all over again the following month when an automatic systems from her secondary account had sent him a reminder. He hadn't been able to bring himself to delete that one as well. Now he could use it to track recent activity at the Hub.
Someone was attempting to access the Rift manipulator. Flashbacks to Abaddon pummelled his conscience.
Lois and Rupesh had both logged on within the past two hours. As he watched, Rupesh signed on. There remained a chance the two of them were friendlies and had chosen to stay behind in order to help free Jack and the rest. Ianto wanted to believe. He liked Rupesh well enough, despite Jack's misgivings, and Lois was his friend as well as his protégé. She'd become a confidante of sorts after their mutually friendly one night stand months ago. But someone had been leaking information, and as the despair bloomed, so did his certainty. Who knew better than he what secrets the secretary kept?
In Tosh's account, Ianto opened an IM window to Rupesh. "I see what you're doing." Then he logged off and scrubbed the access trail.
Alice, Frank, and Hart materialised in the front hallway. Frank wore his hospital gown under a dressing gown, and his skin sagged on him in a way that made him look even more frail than the last time Ianto had seen him. He hurried to Frank's side, helping Alice lead him to one of the near rooms.
"It's good to see you again. I'm sorry for the circumstances."
"You again, eh?" Frank managed an impish smile. "But it's been more than a week."
"Very funny," said Ianto, as Alice said, "I know, I know, it's incredibly odd."
"It's not that odd." Carefully, he helped Frank sit down.
Alice said, "Jack and my mother dated for six months."
"I don't know if he properly courted my mother. She told my brother and me he offered to marry her once, but she didn't think he was serious." Frank took a few deep breaths. "I'm not ready to rest yet. I've heard so much about this place. I always wanted to see it."
"Alice can give you the grand tour later. Alice, I need to show you a few things before John and I leave."
"You're going?" Ianto wondered if he imagined the disappointment in Frank's voice. "But we've just arrived."
"Jack's in trouble. I have to find him." That one fact drove him, and had not changed. "The three of you will be safe here." He hoped. "Alice?"
"Steven, in here, please." The little boy scampered into the room. "Steven, this is ... " She paused. "This is Uncle Frank. I'd like you to stay with him while Mr. Jones shows me something. Be very good."
"Yes, Mum." Steven climbed onto the bed and sat next to Frank. "Hello."
"Hello, Steven. Your mother's told me so much about you."
"Are you my grandfather?"
That caught everyone's attention. "No," said Frank. "Why do you ask?"
"Mum talks about my grandfather sometimes." Steven looked at Alice. "Just yesterday you said you were going to kill him the next time you saw him."
"Don't mind what I say," said Alice. "Now be good for Uncle Frank."
Ianto led her to the control room. "The system is fairly intuitive. The grounds are watched here, the weapons stores are here but you should keep the doors locked when you're not in there. You and Frank should arm yourselves. Did Jack teach you how to fire a gun?"
"No. Mum did."
Once again, he fitted a new piece into his mental puzzle picture of Lucia. This wasn't the time nor the place, but he expected to die soon, and he wanted to know. "How badly would your mother have hated me?"
Alice examined him from head to toe, then gave a half-shrug. "She wouldn't have noticed you." That hurt, but not as much as it could have. "Dad never brought any of his lovers to meet us. I met a few by accident on weekends he had custody. He said he was babysitting for a friend." She cleared her throat. "If she thought you were worth it, she'd have warned you not to get too involved, and told you he's dangerous, but I'm guessing it's too late to warn you."
"A bit." He gulped air. "John and I are headed to the Hub. If I can get into the systems on-site, I may be able to track Jack, or help him in some way." He had no other ideas. Jack could vanish from sight, could vanish from the world, but Ianto would spend the rest of his life if he must searching for where he'd gone. Mainframe was his best place to start. If nothing else, Ianto could raid the Archives for more weapons to defend the estate here.
"Or you'll be caught and executed."
That had occurred to him as well. "Which is why you're safer here than with us. Do what you have to." He showed her one more thing. "And if the worst comes down, we have one last surprise."
***
Rupesh startled as the chat box appeared and Dr. Sato typed: "I see what you're doing."
"What's wrong?" Lois came up behind his chair. He pointed.
"She's dead."
Lois shivered. During the incident four months ago with the ghost bracelet, Ianto had heard Dr. Sato's voice, and he'd told Lois later down the pub that he'd heard her again even when the bracelet was deactivated. Voices in his head, he'd said, and taken a long drink. She knew about his mother from his records, and understood his real fear, but as that hadn't been knowledge she should have access to, she'd merely promised not to tell Jack or Gwen.
"It's probably an automatic watchdog programme." Still, she felt Sato's eyes on her from across the Hub: the snap of Sato and Harper that Gwen had taped to her workstation but for some reason had not taken with her to Scotland.
Rupesh didn't buy the explanation. "I thought Fletcher scrubbed the last of those."
"And he missed one. Call him in prison and complain if you want."
Mr. Gloucester appeared at her elbow, and she hid her own startle. "That may be a problem," he said.
***
Being the only one of his colleagues who still believed in Hell, Perry was certain that lifting a car from a church parking lot no doubt bought him a ticket directly to those crimson-hued gates. Gwen hadn't been put out in the slightest, even taking obvious enjoyment in showing Perry how to remove the steering column and which wires to attach. Once he saw the method, the system made perfect sense.
"You were a policewoman?" he asked incredulously. "What do they train the police to do these days?"
"Ah, well." She looked outside the car window to where her husband kept watch. "Y'see, there are generally two main reasons you find someone going into police work. My mate Andy's dad was a copper, and so was his granddad."
"What about your dad?"
"The other way," she said, without answering, "is to be a hellion in your teens, spend quality time in police stations, and straighten up enough to want to do it later."
"You stole cars?"
"Just one. I got caught before I got the second running." She coughed. "I was young and stupid, and it could have gone a lot worse for me. Useful skill, though."
The engine purred under them, and without even thinking, Perry listened for engine knocks and pings, diagnosing the little defects that would go wrong in six months or a year. Gwen glanced at him, and Perry nodded. This would take them as far as they needed without trouble.
"Let's go."
***
Mickey and Martha took opposite sides of the street to watch. Martha was uncomfortably aware of the CCTV cameras in the area, two of them pointing in Jack's direction, but they had no means of turning off the signal, nor of wiping the records. Odd, she thought, how working with UNIT and Torchwood had got her used to surveillance being optional and within her control rather than the other way around. Fortunately, no-one was about at this hour in Pontyprydd. Jack waved his okay, and the three of them headed towards the car.
"Good news," he said as they got in. "Five hundred pounds. We won't starve. That's not fun, let me tell you."
Martha asked, "What does this make our tally?"
"Mickey stole the car in London, he's evading capture and we broke out of prison. I just robbed a cash point. He and I are looking at eight to ten. You can get off with a plea."
Mickey said, "I'm not sharing a cell with you, Jack."
"Once this is over, we can deal with the records and put things back. It'll be fine." He'd lost his smile again. "When we reach Cardiff, we'll find a car park and get some sleep."
"What about the safe house?" Martha had pleasant memories of the place. It was simple, but functional for their needs, and she longed for a bed.
"I'll case it before we go in. We can't be sure the location hasn't been compromised. If we're lucky, they won't bother looking, but I won't risk the rest of you until I'm sure Lois hasn't already told them about it."
Mickey drove. "Funny thing, you trusting her. I thought you didn't trust people."
"I do," Jack said, stretching out. "I trust the two of you."
Martha said, "Lois was sent by the home office, though." She hadn't processed her anger yet. She'd liked Lois, and she couldn't imagine the sweet, mousy PA as a traitor who'd murdered one of their friends. Martha wanted to believe there'd been some mistake, that Jack had misunderstood, but she didn't see how.
She wondered if Jack thought she was blaming him. She added, "You couldn't have known."
"I should have."
They each drifted inside their own thoughts as the dark road rolled by. Martha could feel her emotions getting the better of her again. She'd been in worse situations than this. Yes, she was on the run, far from home, and she missed Tom fiercely, but the world wasn't ending around her. She stole another glance at Jack's closed-off expression, his responsibilities to the rest of them choking him like a boa constrictor and leaving him no space to howl in pain and grief.
She would see Tom again, if she had to move the Earth itself to do it. Why not? She'd done it before.
***
She was dragged into the Torchwood Hub in the middle of the night. Tish was tired, hungry, and frightened, and they had covered her head with a bag for the trip. Laughable: if she was going to Torchwood, she knew where the base was. Her sister had worked there. Her friend ran the place and emailed her dirty jokes from his work account.
When the bag was ripped off, she stood in the centre of a large room with an antique train station-cum-mad-scientist's-secret-lair motif, the space filled with equipment she didn't recognise. Above her, a large creature she couldn't see made unhappy noises.
As she waited with her captors, someone stepped out of a room on the top level, an all-glass enclosure with incongruously green plants.
"Miss Jones."
Tish's eyes went wide. "You!"
***
Gwen left Rhys and Perry in the car park two streets over from the safe house. She couldn't remember if they had anyone living there at the moment. The usual safe house residents were humans involved in minor incidents who nevertheless needed extra observation to ensure the Retcon held or to see if they needed to be relocated to Flat Holm for more intensive measures. Those decisions were made by Jack and enacted by the admins. The last thing the fugitives needed right now was to blow their cover by frightening some poor dear whose only crime was being in the wrong place when a Hoix got nasty.
Gwen put on an absent expression, made herself fall into the role of any other busy person on this street late at night, nothing to see here.
On her first walk past, she looked for any sign of lights poking out from between the blackout curtains, past the high privacy hedge. She couldn't see anything, a good sign. She walked to the end of the street, waited a few minutes, and began walking back.
As she neared the building, an arm grabbed her.
Gwen kicked out immediately, but a hand clamped firmly over her mouth as a powerful grip took her legs. "Sh," she heard, and she was tugged around to see Jack pulling his finger over his mouth.
He pointed. There was a gap between the curtains here, and she could see lights. She could also see the people moving from across the street towards the door, and them.
"Come on," he whispered, grabbing her hand. Together they fled into deeper darkness, until they were well clear. "I was checking the place before you got here. We can't use it."
She nodded, disappointed. "We need another location. Ianto mentioned a warehouse?"
She felt the tremor run through him at Ianto's name, a weakness he fought not to show, but his hand in hers betrayed him. She should have said it another way, but her mouth always ran half a mile ahead of the rest of her, Mam had told Gwen since she was small. "I mean ... "
"The warehouse is in the official records," Jack said in a soft, stiff voice.
"Jack, I'm sorry."
"Please don't."
She brushed the objection away. She needed to say this out loud for herself. "He was so brave, you'd have been so proud of him. As soon as we realised what was happening, he did everything he could to get me safe. But Lois poisoned the coffee she sent with us, and he had too much." The sense-memory returned: his knocking the flask away from her before she could drink. "He couldn't run, so he distracted them for me to get away."
Jack's grip on her hand had grown stronger as she spoke, and her bones ground together. With a force, she pulled away, massaging life back into the muscles and tendons.
She couldn't find words to apologise for what she'd never said out loud. For two years, she'd believed, or let herself believe, that whatever Jack had with Ianto wasn't worth half of what she had with Rhys. Inside the privacy of her own head, she'd watched them, assuming Jack had settled for an easy shag and Ianto had taken whatever scraps he might find after Lisa's death. Every time they squabbled, she'd viewed it as more proof of their incompatibility while her own quarrels with Rhys signified how two adults jostled a complex relationship into equal places for both. Gwen had waited patiently for the inevitable break-up, when Jack decided he wanted more excitement or Ianto decided he needed a lover who was more steadfast. She'd been so certain until she'd been to their home and seen contradicting evidence all around her, until Ianto had told her they were taking a break and she couldn't stop thinking about Jack touching his hand.
How could she ever apologise for failing to notice her two best friends had fallen in love right in front of her nose? And what did she say to Jack now that it was too late for them?
They were almost at the car. Jack said tightly, "You're parked close to here?" She nodded. "Meet me at 34 Lady Mary Road. Can you get there?"
She nodded again. "Another safe house?"
"In a way."
***
Mickey was dead on his feet by the time they parked in front of the block of flats. Jack helped Martha out of the car. "Park two streets over and come back," he ordered, not even bothering with a "please" or whatever. He'd come back from his look-around at Torchwood's safe house in an even worse mood than he'd gone, and gave directions in a clipped voice. Mickey kept reminding himself that Jack was having a bad day, and wasn't being a dick on purpose, and Martha could bloody well deal with him if he was.
A few minutes later, he'd jogged back to find Jack coming up with something from under a rock.
"House key?" asked Mickey, and Martha nodded.
"He owns the flat."
"I own the whole building. Joshua Harding, if anyone asks," Jack said, as another car pulled up beside them.
All three tensed, and then Rhys's distinctive voice came through the small garden: "Is this it, then?" He got out of the car. Mickey heard two more doors in the dark.
"Over here," Martha said, then craned her neck, as Gwen and Perry came over with Rhys. "Where's Tish?"
Gwen said, "Isn't she with you?"
Alarm soaked into Martha's voice, and Mickey placed a careful hand on her arm as she said, "We thought she was with you."
"That's a problem," said Rhys.
Martha said, "We have to go back."
"Can't," said Mickey. "We don't know where she's gone."
"Everyone inside," said Jack, loud enough to get their attention. "Now." He held the door open and ushered the others into the building. "Quiet." They hurried up the stairs to the top floor, and Jack unlocked the door to one flat.
He turned on the overhead light. "The place has been empty for a while. The last tenants left in a rush."
"Rift?" asked Perry.
"No, they owed someone money." Jack sat heavily onto the sofa and closed his eyes.
Mickey took a quick look around. The flat was furnished with simple, plain items. No linens, nothing in the fridge, and a glance in the loo made him glad to be a bloke; the girls would be wanting for bog roll soon enough. But Jack seemed to think it was a good hideout. They needed something: a quick check of their stolen weapons showed they were out of ammunition.
Jack said, "There's one bed in the back. Martha and Gwen can kip in there, the rest of us are out here."
"We can't stay here long," said Gwen. "People will notice."
"We'll split off again in the morning. I need to get the rest of you out of the country. When that's done, I'll turn myself in, in exchange for Alice, Steven, and Tish." He didn't open his eyes. Mickey had never heard him sound so tired.
"No, you bloody won't," Gwen snapped. "We are getting out of this together, all of us."
Martha looked terribly upset as well. "I should go with you. They're only after Tish because of me." And there was something to that, something more, because Jack did open his eyes then.
"It's not your fault, it's mine. Just like before. We will get her back safely, Martha. I swear."
"We've got to go to the authorities," Gwen said. "The real authorities. This can't possibly be legal."
Perry said, "They said they had charges against us from Lucy Saxon's case."
"Told you," Jack said to Martha, who only shivered.
Gwen said, "We need to fight them."
"Sweetheart," said Rhys, "we'll all think better after a few hours of sleep."
Unsatisfied, Gwen went into the back with Martha, and they shut the door. Mickey heard them talk for a long time, and he thought he heard Martha crying.
In the dark hours just before dawn, from his uncomfortable sleep on the floor, Mickey heard Jack go out alone.
***
Chapter Seven