Human Rights 4
Sitting back in the black Cortina, Sam was feeling strangely upbeat, as though he was nearing some sort of resolution. “You know about the internet,” he said firmly as Jack got in.
Jack sighed. “I think it’s more remarkable that you know about the internet. You’re not from round here, Sam Tyler. So where are you from? Or more importantly, when are you from?”
“I’m from 2006,” Sam said, turning to look Jack straight in the eye. There was no point in holding back when he could see that Jack knew about the future. “I was hit by a car, and then I wake up here. I don’t know how or why.” He put a hand on Jack’s arm, suddenly feeling a great surge of emotion sweep over him. “Do you understand? Can you help me?”
For a few moments Jack said nothing at all, but then he took a small implement out from his coat pocket. It was shaped like a pen, but was making a rhythmic beeping noise. He held it up to Sam’s face. “Just keep still for a minute,” he said quietly, moving the device up and down. The beeping became very loud.
“Well?”
Jack turned the device off and returned it to his coat pocket. “You’re sizzling with residual Rift energy, Sam Tyler. Do you ever black out unexpectedly? Maybe have hallucinations?”
“I...” Sam thought. “Yes, sort of. Well, I think so. I thought the images I was seeing were trying to... I don’t know, reconnect me with the future in some way. I thought I’d been hit by the car and was in a coma, and my mind had ended up in 1973...” He trailed off, knowing he sounded crazy. “Wait a minute, what exactly is Rift energy?”
“It might take a while to explain,” Jack said after a moment. “Look, I know you want to sort this out, but I have a tight schedule. I need to get Jago Princep back to my base as quickly and quietly as possible. But if you help me with that, then I’ll help you with your problem. Alright?”
“And where’s your base?” Sam asked.
“Cardiff.”
Before Sam could raise an objection, Jack had started the engine and was embarking on his plan.
---
When Sam and Jack arrived back at the station, there was some sort of commotion going on. Phyllis was scribbling something down while the telephone receiver was jammed between her chin and her shoulder, and she was shouting to Annie at the same time. Annie was being helped by another PC to bundle a shifty-looking man into the cells.
They were going to walk past and go up to CID when Phyllis beckoned Sam over. “We let that Princep bloke go,” she whispered, now pressing her palm over the telephone mouthpiece.
Jack turned with a look of astonishment. “What?”
“Take it up with DCI Hunt!” Phyllis hissed. “Can’t you see I’m a bit busy here?”
Jack pushed past some PCs and ran up the stairs, with Sam close behind him.
---
As Jack and Sam burst into Gene’s office, they found him poring over a case file with a cigarette in his hand. “Gov,” Sam asked, his voice urgent, “where’s Princep?”
“Let him go with a caution,” Gene said dismissively, barely looking up.
Jack smashed his fists down on the desk. “Why?” he demanded. “Where is he?”
“Are you questioning police authority?” Gene stood and squared up to Jack. “He waved a sword about a bit, so we gave him a caution. The cells were full, there was no point in keeping him there.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Jack said, exasperated. “Jago Princep was terrified after you gave him a beating! He thinks everyone has it in for him, and next time he has access to a weapon he’ll probably kill with it. Well done, Gene Hunt. That’s a fantastic way of protecting the people.”
“Look,” Gene growled, coming round the desk to stand face to face with Jack. “Don’t you bloody come in here shouting the odds, nancy boy. This is my city, and people feel safe because I take care of them and keep real criminal bastards off the street!”
Just as Gene’s voice hit the peak of its crescendo, Jack lunged at him, unable to restrain himself any longer. But Sam got hold of Jack by the shoulders, preventing his fist from making contact with Gene’s face. “Get off me!” Jack yelled, twisting out of his grasp.
“Don’t you think finding Princep is more important than defending your ego?”
Jack stopped and looked at Sam. He was right, and there was no denying it. He turned and stalked out of the office.
Before Sam could follow, Gene clasped his shoulder. “If you take his side over this,” he said in a low voice, “you’ll be back on the next train to Hyde faster than you can say ‘Britt Ekland’s knickers’.”
Sam shrugged his hand off. “Yeah, well maybe that’s what I want.”
Jack sighed. “I think it’s more remarkable that you know about the internet. You’re not from round here, Sam Tyler. So where are you from? Or more importantly, when are you from?”
“I’m from 2006,” Sam said, turning to look Jack straight in the eye. There was no point in holding back when he could see that Jack knew about the future. “I was hit by a car, and then I wake up here. I don’t know how or why.” He put a hand on Jack’s arm, suddenly feeling a great surge of emotion sweep over him. “Do you understand? Can you help me?”
For a few moments Jack said nothing at all, but then he took a small implement out from his coat pocket. It was shaped like a pen, but was making a rhythmic beeping noise. He held it up to Sam’s face. “Just keep still for a minute,” he said quietly, moving the device up and down. The beeping became very loud.
“Well?”
Jack turned the device off and returned it to his coat pocket. “You’re sizzling with residual Rift energy, Sam Tyler. Do you ever black out unexpectedly? Maybe have hallucinations?”
“I...” Sam thought. “Yes, sort of. Well, I think so. I thought the images I was seeing were trying to... I don’t know, reconnect me with the future in some way. I thought I’d been hit by the car and was in a coma, and my mind had ended up in 1973...” He trailed off, knowing he sounded crazy. “Wait a minute, what exactly is Rift energy?”
“It might take a while to explain,” Jack said after a moment. “Look, I know you want to sort this out, but I have a tight schedule. I need to get Jago Princep back to my base as quickly and quietly as possible. But if you help me with that, then I’ll help you with your problem. Alright?”
“And where’s your base?” Sam asked.
“Cardiff.”
Before Sam could raise an objection, Jack had started the engine and was embarking on his plan.
---
When Sam and Jack arrived back at the station, there was some sort of commotion going on. Phyllis was scribbling something down while the telephone receiver was jammed between her chin and her shoulder, and she was shouting to Annie at the same time. Annie was being helped by another PC to bundle a shifty-looking man into the cells.
They were going to walk past and go up to CID when Phyllis beckoned Sam over. “We let that Princep bloke go,” she whispered, now pressing her palm over the telephone mouthpiece.
Jack turned with a look of astonishment. “What?”
“Take it up with DCI Hunt!” Phyllis hissed. “Can’t you see I’m a bit busy here?”
Jack pushed past some PCs and ran up the stairs, with Sam close behind him.
---
As Jack and Sam burst into Gene’s office, they found him poring over a case file with a cigarette in his hand. “Gov,” Sam asked, his voice urgent, “where’s Princep?”
“Let him go with a caution,” Gene said dismissively, barely looking up.
Jack smashed his fists down on the desk. “Why?” he demanded. “Where is he?”
“Are you questioning police authority?” Gene stood and squared up to Jack. “He waved a sword about a bit, so we gave him a caution. The cells were full, there was no point in keeping him there.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Jack said, exasperated. “Jago Princep was terrified after you gave him a beating! He thinks everyone has it in for him, and next time he has access to a weapon he’ll probably kill with it. Well done, Gene Hunt. That’s a fantastic way of protecting the people.”
“Look,” Gene growled, coming round the desk to stand face to face with Jack. “Don’t you bloody come in here shouting the odds, nancy boy. This is my city, and people feel safe because I take care of them and keep real criminal bastards off the street!”
Just as Gene’s voice hit the peak of its crescendo, Jack lunged at him, unable to restrain himself any longer. But Sam got hold of Jack by the shoulders, preventing his fist from making contact with Gene’s face. “Get off me!” Jack yelled, twisting out of his grasp.
“Don’t you think finding Princep is more important than defending your ego?”
Jack stopped and looked at Sam. He was right, and there was no denying it. He turned and stalked out of the office.
Before Sam could follow, Gene clasped his shoulder. “If you take his side over this,” he said in a low voice, “you’ll be back on the next train to Hyde faster than you can say ‘Britt Ekland’s knickers’.”
Sam shrugged his hand off. “Yeah, well maybe that’s what I want.”