Conspiracy Theories Ch. 18/?
Jack woke with a crick in his neck and pain through most of his body as he realized he'd managed to curl into an incredibly uncomfortable position to make room for a bed partner who had never shown up. His body had unconsciously made room for Ianto, despite the fact that he knew before going to sleep that he would be doing so alone. His body's seeming expectancy of Ianto's presence troubled him. It only served to prove, in Jack's mind, just how much more things would hurt when the inevitable finally happened, preferably later rather than sooner.
With a frown, he got out of the bed and stretched. It also served to frustrate the hell out of the captain because Ianto might not have slept with him, but he had stayed in the hub. For all of his support as Jack told his tale, Ianto said that while it might have been pointless to leave the Hub to go home and sleep, as it had been so late once they finally did finish talking, he wasn’t sleeping with Jack that night. Said he needed “space.”
Jack let out a grunt as he felt and heard his spine crack as it straightened and shifted to where it should have been in the first place. He was getting dressed for the day, despite the fact that it was still very early. Pulling on a blue shirt and gray braces to finish off the usual look he climbed out of the hatch only to hear the sirens on the cog door.
He glanced up, more than a little curious who was coming in so early. It could very well have been Ianto coming back from a run for pastries. He was known to do that in the mornings. It also could have been Owen, as the doctor hadn’t entirely left Jack’s mind over the course of the day before. He knew the man would have very little to entertain him for the night, but he would need to adjust to his new status on his own, at least at first. There was every possibility Owen was coming into the Hub early out of sheer boredom. It had happened even before the man had died. There was also a good chance it could have been Tosh, who had a habit of coming in early to get this or that project done, or because she wanted to escape being alone at her flat.
Instead, it was Martha, who glanced up at Jack’s office an almost unreadable look as she walked toward the autopsy bay. He followed her with a grin. “You’re in early.”
The look she gave him was still serious. She seemed no more pleased by what he’d done than Ianto had been. “I have work I need to do before Owen gets in here.”
“You’re cross with me,” Jack said, internally reprimanding himself for sounding like a child trying to get approval from a mother.
“I just don’t understand how, at your age,” she said with an exasperated sigh-and Jack could have done without the mention of his advanced years, “you can behave like such a child.”
Better yet, he thought, she was comparing him to a child as he’d done himself.
“It’s hard knowing that you have the ability to at least say goodbye to someone and not use it,” Jack said.
“You know, Jack,” Martha said, slowly. “You don’t sound any better than the people you try to prevent from getting their hands on the alien tech. You do something wrong and you justify it by saying that you couldn’t help yourself because the temptation was just too much.”
Jack nodded again. “I messed up. I know that, and Owen’s paying for it. Believe me, even if Ianto hadn’t had this same conversation with me last night, I’d still know it.”
“Ianto gave you a talking to, then?” Martha asked, a faint smile on her face.
“He’s surprisingly good at it,” Jack acknowledged.
“I can imagine,” she said, then looked around. “Is he here?”
“Somewhere,” Jack said. “It was late last night after he’d finished his lecture, so he stayed.”
“Guessing by the lack of coffee aroma, I’ll assume that he’s not awake yet?” she asked, looking expectantly to the office. “You didn’t wear him out with a bit of make-up-”
“Jack, I guess I left my change of suits in your room,” Ianto’s voice called. Jack looked out of the autopsy bay entrance, along with Martha, to see Ianto clad in only his boxers with dress shoes in hand and black socks on his feet.
“Morning, Ianto,” Martha said with a grin.
Jack swore the Welshman’s entire body from the top of his socks to the start of his hairline turned a lovely shade of red-which wasn’t really what Jack meant by that being the man’s color-as he realized they were not alone. “I’m… sorry, Martha. I didn’t know anyone else was here. So hard to hear the alarms from the archive area.” He hurried over to Jack’s office, doing his best to look dignified in such a decidedly undignified situation. He nearly succeeded, but not entirely. He was still dressed in only his boxers and socks.
“It’s okay, Ianto,” she assured him. “Really.” Ianto was nearly into Jack’s office when she called out, “Nice legs by the way!”
Ianto gave up any pretenses at walking proudly and scurried up to the other room. Martha chuckled as she and Jack both watched. Even he allowed himself a small smile at his lover’s expense. “I like him,” she said, though the mirth faded from her warm face. “But if he wasn’t here and not sleeping down in that hidey hole with you, I’m going to guess that it was a bit more than a lecture last night. Did you two have a row about Owen?”
“No,” Jack said. “Not really.” That was truthful. What Jack had done in bringing Owen back had certainly been a sore point, and a reminder of how much he really did keep from everyone, including Ianto. However, Owen was not the source of their problems.
“Something else then?” Martha asked. Jack sighed and inwardly cursed her for being so persistent.
“I’m not going to give specifics,” he said, “but in trying to protect his family and his state of mind until they were safe, I kept it from Ianto that they needed protecting in the first place.”
“Jack Harkness!” Martha said, slapping him on the arm, but looking like she’d just as well do much worse. “You don’t mess with family. Having your family in danger is sickening, but worst is not knowing the extent of it.” She smacked him again. Repeatedly. Martha certainly knew that feeling. Jack did as well, but it was, again, something he was keeping from the rest. “How could you do something like this? How old are you again?”
“Old enough to have known better,” Jack said, sounding as regretful as he genuinely felt.
“You sound like him,” she said, in a tone reserved only for the things that the Doctor did that drove her-and Jack if he were perfectly honest-stark raving mad. “Protecting by keeping him ignorant.” She pointed an elegant finger in his face. “You will fix this. I like him, and I think he’s good for you, so you had better. I’ll even help you if you need it, which you might.”
“You have so little faith in me, Dr. Jones,” Jack replied wryly.
Martha gave him a gentle push. “Be happy that I have any at all,” she teased. “Go on, get out and talk to him. I’ve got to get things ready for Owen.
Jack left the autopsy bay and went toward his office, seeking Ianto out, but dreading what could happen once he found him. He walked by his desk, absently looking over some of the files sitting atop-most of which had been done either at Ianto’s insistence or by the man himself-but Jack knew he was only stalling the inevitable. With the practice of years, Jack climbed down the hatch and the ladder. Despite the presence of another body in the room, Jack’s boots echoed on the metal ladder as he worked his way down. He saw Ianto buttoning the waistcoat of his pinstriped suit, not to mention also noticed how the Welshman’s body tensed at hearing Jack make his entrance.
“Martha told me to come down here and fix this,” Jack said, by way of explanation. “She said she likes you, thinks you’re good for me, and thinks I’m stupid for what I did.”
“Well, good for Martha,” Ianto said as he continued to focus on the buttons. Apparently, a roundabout apology wouldn’t work this timel.
“I agree with her.” That got Ianto’s attention, making the Welshman turn his head slightly to look at Jack over his shoulder. “We both really messed up, but I know I’m guilty of the worst of it.”
Ianto gave a slight nod and went to get his suit coat, but Jack beat him to it. As Ianto did for him countless times in a given week, he held the coat up for the Welshman. “Here,” he said, guiding Ianto in the suit and then brushing off the shoulders once it was on him.
Ianto turned and looked at him strangely for a moment. “Admitting you’re wrong isn’t something you do often or well,” he said. “So, even if I can’t say I’ve forgiven you entirely, I’ve had a bit of a chance to cool.” Jack felt a warm hand at his arm and he managed a smile.
“We’ll be okay then?”
“We’ll see, but I think so.” Jack wasn’t sure he believed it. He couldn’t help but notice how tired those blue eyes looked at the moment. “We have a long day ahead of us. Owen’s not going to be coping well and you and I both are going to need to visit Johnny to see how he’s doing. When my sister called, I told her I was still stuck in London, but first chance I got, I’d be with her and Johnny. You should come too. They consider you family now.”
“Of course I will,” Jack said. Not just for the family that had adopted him, but because he knew this was going to be difficult for Ianto, knew that no matter the reasoning behind it, the archivist had been the one to do this to his brother-in-law. “I would anyway,” he told him, giving Ianto a quick kiss on the lips, disappointed that it wasn’t returned even somewhat. He pulled back and forced a broad smile on his face. “Time to face the day.” Beginning to mount the ladder, Jack turned back to look at Ianto. “I’ll need you there when I talk to Owen. Until Martha gives him a clean bill of health, I can’t have him as an active team member.”
“He’s not going to take that well,” Ianto said. “And I don’t know that I’m quite the person that he’d want there to witness it.”
Jack nodded. “But you’re the one who handles most of the admin duties, and this, unfortunately falls under that.” Ianto still looked incredibly reluctant. “Would it help if I said I would like you there, personally?”
“Let me finish getting ready for the day,” Ianto said, rather than answer directly.
He should be mad at Jack, Owen knew that. Really, if he wasn’t going to be mad at himself-and Owen just didn’t do being mad at himself-he should be angry with his captain. Jack was the one who had brought him back from the dead. Jack hadn’t properly checked that bastard doctor to see if he still had a gun to shoot Owen in the first place, Owen hadn’t checked either, but he had been concerned with the health of his patient. Going back even further, Jack hadn’t let Owen self-destruct when he’d wanted to following Diane, and Jack had been the one to recruit the younger man in the first place, making him the type of person who not only finds himself in this kind of situation, but the type to jump in front of a bullet for a woman he hardly knew.
Absolutely, it should have been Jack that got the largest portion of Owen’s ire.
Instead, he directed it at Ianto.
From the time Ianto had started, he’d had his issues with him. He’d been certain the younger man had only been hired on the promise he’d sleep with their illustrious captain. Then, when it had finally happened, Owen had resented Ianto for the time he’d lost spending with the older man. Ianto had changed the dynamics of Torchwood Three and even managed to get Jack in a relationship, of all things. Jack no longer had the time for a night at the pub as he’d once done because his free time was spent with Ianto-and it never really crossed anyone’s mind, even now, to invite the youngest team member.
The latest transgression for the young Welshman had been witnessing Owen’s shame, even being the one to collect his gun and ID badge.
So how could Ianto manage to remain so calm as he tried to explain making coffee to the doctor?
“Voila. Fresh and strong.” Ianto said as he inhaled the coffee.
Owen bit back a comment just how much Ianto loved his own coffee and what he must do to it when he was alone. He found it all the more cruel that Ianto hands him the cup of coffee he can no longer drink. “And, uh, we couldn’t just have a jar of instant?”
There was he faintest flicker of something in Ianto’s eyes Owen knew he’d just spoken blasphemy, and a small part of it had been intentional to get a rise out of the Welshman. “I thought you liked your coffee.”
“Have you seen what happens when I drink these days?” Owen asked, hoping to get a guilt trip from him. No such luck. Instead, he got the coffee cup taken away from him as though he would actually drink the stuff. As though he wanted to do another headstand to expel the Welshman’s coffee that he couldn’t even taste to make it worth the effort. When asked if he wanted to “have a go” at making coffee for himself, without any real ability to smell, no sense of taste and only some basic, subconscious sense of what was hot and cold and how hard or soft to grip anything, Owen had to retort back with his usual biting sarcasm.
Unfortunately, it seemed Ianto really did make coffee-making look simple. Owen was a doctor and he couldn’t manage to make a single damned cup.
“Come on! What’s wrong with this?” Ianto tried to tell him, but Owen wasn’t hearing him as he rattled the whole machine and sent cups crashing to the ground.
“You okay?” Ianto asked, sounding genuinely concerned, but Owen’s anger was getting the better of him.
“What do you think?” Owen snapped. “I bet you’re loving this, aren’t you? It’s like you’ve finally won.”
“I didn’t know we were in competition.” Owen’s wrath wanted to fade at that because Ianto really didn’t seem to think so, but the doctor was just too far gone.
“Oh, come on! Even Tosh had more of a life than you used to. And now you’re out on missions, you’re shagging Jack and I’m stuck here making the coffee.”
Ianto went over to fuss with his precious machine. “It’s not like that. Me and Jack.”
“Yeah, yeah, you and Jack. Gwen’s getting married. Martha’s got her bloke. God, even Tosh had Tommy. This is really shit.”
Finally, it looked like Owen had gotten a slight rise out of the young man. “We’ve all gone through shit,” he said, looking for just a moment like he might try to explain, but instead, he held back. “I’ve seen you dissect alien corpses. I’ve seen you save so many lives. Are you really going to let this beat you?”
Ianto walked away, and Owen found himself unsure now who he really should be angry with. He felt just a bit of it now directed at himself for having taken it out on Ianto in the first place. It was strange to suddenly experience guilt for something he’d done quite often since the younger man had joined the team. He’d have thought that after death, his new experiences would have been over.
“And then he broke his finger!” Tosh said with an exasperated sigh. Ianto was busy getting things ready for the upcoming briefing. “Right in front of me, like he was trying to prove a point.
Ianto looked up at her. “Maybe it did prove a point, or at least get you to stop talking about yourself and all of the normal things going on at the Hub,” he snapped.
Startled, Tosh drew back. “Ianto, I… you and I always talk like this and…”
“And Owen is not me,” Ianto said, trying to rein himself in. “Also, to be perfectly blunt, Tosh, he’s got slightly bigger issues than wondering how Gwen flashing her wedding around makes you feel or whether or not you’d be caught dead in a bridesmaid dress. This is a man who died three days ago and within twenty-four hours of being brought back, was willing to do it again to save the world. I think the very least he deserves is a little time to have people talking with him and not at him.”
Tosh paused a moment. She couldn’t deny that her friend and coworker was absolutely right, but observing him, from his slumped posture to his adamant defense of Owen, she could tell there was more going on here than just the issue with their doctor. Even when Ianto sided against Tosh when she railed about something-not that he did often-he usually did so with far more tact than he’d shown just now.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?” he asked.
Tosh shrugged. “Whatever it is that is bothering you right now. I know things seem to be focused on Owen at the moment-”
“And rightly so.”
Tosh nodded. “But something is wrong, and you know you can talk to me about it.”
“Family issue,” Ianto said dismissively as he looked back down at the materials for the briefing. “And Jack issues. And Torchwood issues. All together.”
The woman hissed. Any one of those could induce a large amount of stress, but all together was the trifecta of an ulcer waiting to happen. “I’m sorry, Ianto. Do you want to talk about-”
“Okay team. We’ve got a little energy spike to deal with,” Jack’s voice carried up to the board room.
“And when he says little, he means huge,” Gwen said with a giggle as she and Martha followed behind Jack.
“Just like when he says huge, he means…” Ianto drifted off as blue eyes met a playful glare in eyes just as clear blue as his own. Tosh snickered at the “coupley” show between the two. “… he means bloody enormous.”
Martha half-choked as she began to laugh.
“Well, thank you, Ianto,” Jack said with a grin. The smile came easier, and he looked relieved, if not a bit surprised by the teasing tone.
“I was speaking of your ego, sir,” Ianto said. “I don’t know what you thought I meant.”
Jack smirked and Ianto wore a slightly confident smile. “Okay everyone have a seat.”
“Henry John Parker…” Jack began.
Knowing that the van was their only means of transportation, at least for what Ron had in mind, Thom made sure it was in top mechanical shape. It was the former anthropologist’s understanding that they were to lure the captain and his team to Beauclaire and give them all a dose of their leader’s medicine. Thom felt a tinge of guilt at what they were going to be doing. Targeting Harkness was simple retribution, but the others had done nothing beyond being picked by the American for his team.
Thom returned from tuning the engine, wiping his hands on a rag. He saw Ron leaning close to one of his computer screens, scowling at the image. “What is it?”
“Jones,” Ron said. “He’s being understanding with Harkness. I’d been hoping to drive a wedge between them. Hurt Harkness a bit before we make him forget, but that doesn’t look as though it’s going to happen. Not this way, at least. It means I need a slight revision of plans.” Ron began typing, though Thom couldn’t make out what exactly he was doing. He was functional on computers, but he was nothing compared to Ron.
“Thom, I’ll need you to look over something in a bit, but at the moment, why don’t you go ahead and get us something to eat?”
“Sure,” the other man said, hearing something in Ron’s voice that made him seriously question what life would be like with Ron essentially in charge of Torchwood.
Ianto looked at the front of the hospital, just out of range of the automatic doors. He’d been frozen there for a few moments, afraid of what the reaction would be from his sister and especially from Johnny. Feeling a hand on his arm, he turned around to see Jack looking at him encouragingly.
Ianto was torn in how he felt about having Jack there. He was grateful for the steadying presence that the other man provided. But, at the same time, he knew that none of this, the worry or Johnny’s current hospitalization, would have happened had it not been for Jack’s-and the inseparable Torchwood-presence in Ianto’s life.
With a frown, Ianto pushed onward, letting the doors slide open. A faint memory of Christmastime last year crossed his mind. No bananas were here to distract his companion, though there were plenty of attractive nurses and doctors. That was probably more likely to divert Jack’s attention that fruit anyway. Despite memories of rationing, the captain thoroughly indulged in the freedom of sugary sweets on a regular basis.
“Who are you here to see?” a voice cut through Ianto’s thoughts.
“Johnny Caldicott,” Ianto replied, looking down at the woman at he front desk. “My brother-in-law.”
The woman glanced from Ianto to Jack suspiciously. “If this is your business…” She pointed to Jack. “…would you at least do us the favor of warning us ahead of time? So we keep medical staff away or at least prepare for unconscious ones?”
Jack flashed a grin. Ianto and the woman both ruffled at how smug the captain looked at the fact that his reputation preceded him.
“He is my brother-in-law,” Ianto repeated. He turned his head to fully glare at Jack and watched the other man’s smile fade. He tilted his head just a bit toward the woman, eyes still trained on his lover. “Anything your staff might see that would be inappropriate would be me shooting him.”
The woman took the opportunity to smile at Jack. Ianto suspected she’d be informing staff that the fearless leader of Torchwood seemed to be housetrained by a younger man in a suit. The Welshman was fairly certain hat Jack realized this, and he didn’t look entirely pleased at that fact. Ianto couldn’t exactly find it in himself to care.
They followed the woman’s instructions on where to find Johnny, but the hallways were nothing more than a blur to Ianto, who was still torn between wanting to see him and turning and running in the opposite direction. Seeing his mum in the small waiting area outside, Daffyd asleep with his head in her lap, he was glad he hadn’t given in to his cowardice and was here for them.
“Hello, Mum,” he said, walking over to give her a hug and a quick kiss on the forehead. It was a reversal of what she’d done to him as a child whenever he’d been sick or worried.
“Rhiannon’s in with him now,” she explained quietly, as not to wake the boy resting on her lap. She wasn’t very successful though, as he immediately sat up, blinking his eyes as he tried to get his bearings.
“Uncle Ianto!” he cried out as he leapt out of his chair and wrapped his arms around Ianto’s waist. “Someone broke into our house. They took our stuff and Tad’s computer, and they hit Tad.”
Ianto felt his stomach clench in guilt as his hands went to Daffyd’s back, rubbing soothing circles there. “Please, Uncle Ianto, can you catch them?” he pleaded. The young man was sure he couldn’t possibly feel any worse about what he had done, or any less deserving of the hope that he saw in his nephew’s eyes that he could just make all the bad things go away.
“Your Uncle Ianto works in a tourist office,” Ianto’s mum said, rubbing Daffyd’s back. “He’s not a PC.”
“But I know he can do something,” Daffyd said with such assurance it made Ianto ache. If only his nephew knew the truth. He wouldn’t still have such hero-worship in his eyes when he looked at Ianto. No, it would probably be a rather different look on the boy’s face if he knew.
“I wish I could,” Ianto said, trying to be reassuring as he patted the boy’s back. “I’ll do whatever I can manage, though.” Daffyd’s arms gave him a tight squeeze before he pulled back just enough to look behind Ianto to Jack.
“And you too?” he asked. “You were in the RAF, you must know someone who can help.”
“I’ll see what my old connections can do,” Jack promised.
Ianto could feel the relief as it hit the boy’s body. Tensed muscles actually loosened beneath his fingers just at the simple promises that he and the captain had made. Ianto had forgotten what it was like to be a young child with such optimism and trust toward adults. He wasn’t old enough to realize how misplaced that trust could be.
“Why don’t you go in with your sister and Johnny for a bit? They could probably use you about now,” Ianto heard his mum say as he released Daffyd to sit back down on the waiting room chairs. He gave a faint nod of his head and looked back at Jack.
“I should probably go alone,” he said.
“I’ll be right here,” his lover assured him, fingers brushing Ianto’s, then genuinely making the effort to squeeze them. “I’ll keep Daffyd and Merideth company.” He smiled back at the two in the waiting area, but Ianto could see the smile didn’t reach his eyes. The guilt was there for both of them, and nothing they did could make it go away any faster.
Ianto walked by Jack and headed for Johnny’s room. With a quiet rap on the door, he heard his sister’s strained voice telling him that he could come in.
He was no sooner inside the door and to Johnny’s bedside before Rhiannon was in his arms, just as her son had been a few moments before. Never had he thought his presence made one bit of difference to his family, but it seemed he was wrong. He knew he had been a prat as a young adult, but he’d still managed to hold the genuine belief that his family would not care one way or another for his presence. It felt now like his distance over the years had been a betrayal of the people who had loved him and cared for him-and still did.
Cautiously, his eyes roved down to Johnny, who was giving him a glare so fierce that Ianto questioned if the man remembered what had actually happened.
“I’m glad you managed to make it in,” Rhiannon said. “I know you were with the friend from work…”
“You needed me here,” Ianto said, giving her a reassuring squeeze on her shoulders while he looked back at Johnny.
“I’m surprised you could be arsed to come. I remember a time when you really didn’t give a shit about leaving London to come back to Cardiff.”
Ianto was taken aback. This was old anger, a fight that he and Johnny had gotten out ages ago, or rather, that Ianto had felt they’d moved past.
“I am not that selfish brat any longer,” Ianto said.
“You still can’t manage to visit us except for Christmas and birthdays.”
“Johnny,” Rhiannon said, reproachfully, “you know it hasn’t been like that recently.”
“Because he’s managed to get a boyfriend who’s probably guilting him into coming, that or Ianto is trying to put on a good show for him.”
Ianto hung his head a moment, but when Rhiannon tried to argue with her husband, who still looked awful, thanks to the working over that Ianto had given him, he stopped her with his hand. “He’s right, Rhiannon. I have been absolutely awful to you all up until recently. Work has been busier than I thought it would and I am still dealing with a lot of crap that I don’t really want bringing home to the family,” Ianto said. He’d let it vague enough to make them think that his issues were just emotional baggage from London. “So yes, I’ve been a crap brother, a shitty brother-in-law, and I admit it. I just hope we can put some of that behind us. Especially now. The police have been in, I expect?”
Rhiannon nodded, Johnny just once moving his head to affirm they had been. “Do you need a place to stay? Mum’s not too far out of the way, but I know my flat is closer to everything. So is Jack’s and it’s still vacant for now.”
“We’re going to stay with mum for a bit, then we’re going to call that estate agent you were dealing with and get that house, first thing,” she said. “Your offer… does it still stand?”
“Of course,” Ianto said. “I’d love for nothing more than that reparation money to go to some good use. I just can’t bear to use it myself.”
Rhiannon nodded and looked back at Johnny, who begrudgingly thanked Ianto for the offer.
Ianto stayed for a while, not talking much, not even listening much, as the other two remained nearly quiet, Rhiannon simply reaffirming that her husband was still with her and in one piece.
It wouldn’t be long before Ianto would make some excuse to return back to work, so that they could deal with Mr. Parker. He still couldn’t believe Jack was going to let Owen back out into the field so soon, not that it wasn’t warranted. However, if he was going to put their resurrected doctor out there, Ianto thought he might as well buy that t-shirt that he saw in the gift shop, just to emphasize the point of how silly it was to be scared of Tin-Tin. Really, “shagging the dog.”
Even feeling like an utter heel, Ianto thought he deserved some sense of humor in his life.
“How does this letter read to you?” Ron asked, leaning away from the computer screen so that Thom could read over his shoulder.
“Dear Sir or Madam,” Thom read aloud. “I have found some very interesting software that may be of some use to you and your company.” He read over the description of the software, though it was obvious to the techie that it was making little sense to Thom, despite the layman’s terms that Ron had described it in. “I will sell the software to the top bidder, give me your price and we will work out a deal. If it’s good enough, I might even give you the exclusive rights to it.”
Thom read the sign-off on the e-mail and leaned back. “It reads very juvenile, Ron.”
“It’s supposed to. I want it to look like a pretty pathetic hacker managed to find the program.” Really, he was quite proud of this spontaneous step in making Jack Harkness hurt, by proxy of Jones and his family.
“Where did you get it?”
“From Johnny Caldicott’s work computer,” Ron said. “But since his home computer was just stolen, his bosses will naturally assume he was taking work home with him, which goes against company policy. Very much so.”
“But, the computer will be recovered and they’ll find that it wasn’t on there.”
“It could have been deleted,” Ron said. “And even so, the company isn’t going to want to admit that their firewall was hacked, so Johnny will be a perfect scapegoat.”
“He’ll lose his job then?” Thom asked.
Ron nodded. “All because of a Torchwood clean-up operation that Jack authorized and Jones participated in.” He leaned back in the chair and smiled, feeling more than a little smug. “It’s my way of letting them know that this is war. This is the first round. They’ll know I was behind it, even if the police won’t.”
“But what if the authorities trace it back to you? Back to here?”
“They won’t do that,” Ron assured him, moving back to the computer screen. “I’ve routed the message so that it will appear to originate from Ian Granger’s computer in Newport.”
“So you’re framing an innocent man,” Thom said.
“Don’t sound so appalled,” Ron said. “I had suspected the man of sexual deviancy for a while, and after finding some kiddie porn on his computer while I was planning it, I believe we’re doing the world a favor.”
Really, it wasn’t true, he just had his suspicions of the man being a pervert, but Thom was far more of a bleeding heart that Ron remembered. It was possible that his spotty memory was playing tricks on him, but it was just as likely that being a father and husband had made the already slightly big-hearted man go soft.
With a few last coding details, Ron hit send and prepared to destroy the life of a man he didn’t really resent at all. An unfortunate civilian casualty of war.