Fic: The Valentine's Day Massacre (5/6)
The Valentine's Day Massacre (5/6)
Words: 35,300 (4800 this part)
***
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
***
Chapter 5
***
Gwen set the phone back in its cradle. She'd left voicemail for Albert. Dr. Pol would stay with Lois tonight. Her home had already been invaded once. Gwen looked around her own lovely little home, the one they'd bought after all the madness and the travelling. Her life had been a whirlwind ever since she'd started at Torchwood, and once again, the maelstrom threatened her in her home.
"Rhys, love, I think you should take Anwen and go stay with my mother for a while."
Rhys looked up at her from the sofa, where he'd been half-watching the telly but mostly listening in on her calls. "I think that's the bloody stupidest thing I've heard all day. We can't up and leave just because you're spooked. Also, it's started to shit down snow."
"There's going to be a war, and we're right in the middle." Her pulse raced, and there were fears she couldn't quite name, memories lurking in her mind she didn't want to examine. She'd do anything for this idiot, and for the little girl asleep in her bed. She'd tried to kill her best friend once for their sakes. The memory was clear as day. "I don't want you hurt."
"Then stop the bastards." He looked pleased with himself for thinking of this. She sighed.
***
Lois checked the deadbolts again. "I've got my gun. You?"
Dr. Pol yawned as she settled in the sheets Lois had made up for her as a bed on the sofa. "In my bag. I hate leaving it around."
"I'll leave my door ajar. You hear anything at all, call for me."
There was a strong knock at the door. Lois jumped. Pol was on her feet instantly, scrabbling through her bag. "Don't answer that."
Lois put off the safety, and said, "We didn't order a pizza."
"Good. I hate pizza," said Albert from outside. "Let me in."
Lois glanced at Pol, who lowered her bag. Lois kept the gun raised; this could be a trap. She unlocked the door. Albert stood there, snow blowing around him. "Those roads are a nightmare. Can I come in?"
She stepped aside, and he hurried in, bringing snow and melt to drip on her carpet. "What are you doing here?"
"The boss brought me an artefact to look up, some Arkellian thing. I got that sorted, got Gwen's call, and reckoned you and Pol would be here."
"And?" asked Dr. Pol.
"And I thought, the safest place in Cardiff tonight would be between the two of you to protect me." He smiled his thin, pained smile.
Pol looked at Lois and shrugged. Lois lowered her gun, which she still had ready. She locked the deadbolt again. "Fine. The floor is yours."
***
February 14th
***
The heater was for shit in this manky little Grangetown bedsit. The paper blind, torn in two places, let in the bright glare from the snow outside and revealed frost inside the single-paned glass. All the better for the excuse to conserve body heat under the generous pile of quilts, Ianto decided, wrapping his arm more snugly around Jack, and pressing flat against him. The quilts had the faintly mouldy smell of bedding left in the cupboard too long without air. He buried his nose in Jack's arm to block it out.
"We should get up," Jack said, sounding unconvinced.
"No, we should stay in bed and have sex all day. It's Valentine's Day."
This earned him a kiss on the head. "I suspect I've been a terrible influence on you."
"You have." Ianto turned his head, and moved in for a better kiss. "Let's scandalise the new neighbours."
"The ones who think I'm your brother?" Jack didn't sound upset, and the darkening glow in his eyes suggested this was a whole new game to play.
"We could have gone to Barry. We're married in Barry."
Alice and Steven were safe in Caerphilly under the identities Ianto had planted there. Jack had insisted on returning to Cardiff despite the worsening roads. They had one day left of the truce, and they'd lost too much time looking for Alice. Jack had to spend today preventing a disaster.
First things first, though. They fell into each other, kissing like horny teenagers, hands reaching for skin and tangling in hair, and legs wrapping around and between for the best friction to rub and rut. Ianto kept his voice down. Jack didn't, moaning loudly either because he didn't mind the neighbours hearing, or because he wanted them to know what a good time he was having.
"We'll go somewhere nice when this is over," Jack said in his ear, reaching between them to take them both in hand. Ianto's hand joined his, letting Jack guide the rise and fall of their grip, faster and faster. "I'll pick up some oils, those ones you like, and cover your back in warm slick. We can slide against each other all night. You and me." He bit down on the earlobe, and Ianto howled.
From outside, Ianto heard the sound of what could have been a car backfiring in the distance, but he couldn't make himself care.
***
Gwen cased the scene, hands in gloves too thin for today's weather. Andy had been right about the aliens. She just wasn't sure how bad this was. As Jack and Ianto pulled up in Jack's car, she walked over to them, appreciating the heat from the engine. "Mass shooting. There's seven dead in there."
As they got out, Jack asked, "Human?"
"No. Jack, it looks like four of the head Bugs, two of their bodyguards, and another alien. A Berana." She'd known the face of one of them. Andy had already left to tell poor Freda.
They reached the roped-off doorway, and Jack turned, horrified. "Four? That's most of their top hierarchy."
"That's not the worst part. Andy interviewed witnesses, and they all saw a black SUV with the word 'Torchwood' stencilled on the side, speeding away."
Ianto said, "I told you we needed to take the logo off everything. Secret organisation, I said."
"Ianto, love, our new car doesn't have it. We haven't done since ages ago. You lost the car. Remember?"
They both looked at her oddly. "The point is," Gwen said, "it wasn't us. It clearly wasn't us unless Lois has been going on shooting sprees."
"It could be Albert," Ianto said. They both ignored him.
Jack led the way into the ruined garage. Gwen had been here once already, the smell of strange blood all up in her nose. "They were lined up," he said. "This was an execution."
"I'll get the bags," Ianto said.
"No. Go to Caerphilly, get Alice and Steven, and bring them to the Hub."
"What?" asked Gwen, and Ianto asked, "Why?"
"Someone just framed us for murder. The Hub is the most secure place for everyone right now. Gwen, call Rhys and have him bring Anwen. Everyone stays together."
"Which is fine," Ianto said, taking the keys, "until they decide to bomb the Hub again."
Gwen pulled out her mobile and dialled Harwood's. The new office had a bad telephone line, but Mandy eventually picked up and put her through to Rhys. Gwen gave him the short version as Jack began loading bodies.
***
Jack went alone to see the new Boss Bug. There was a very good chance he'd be shot on sight. Worse things had happened to him.
The admin outside the Bug office wouldn't let him in. "The Boss thinks Torchwood has done quite enough," he said, with an icy politeness. The admin could pass for human to someone who didn't know what to look for, and Jack did.
In the alien's native language, Jack said, "I swear, it wasn't us."
To Jack's lack of surprise, the door behind the admin opened, and the new Boss came out. "Your own police say it was you. You dare come into this hive of mourning with lies."
"I brought your dead to you. You can give the bodies their proper funerals." Normally he'd have ordered an autopsy before the release. No point, really. Hundreds of rounds of bullets naturally killed most living creatures dead. Even the Bug who'd still been alive when the police arrived expired soon after. "I am deeply sorry for your loss."
"Not sorry enough. We will make you bleed."
"We didn't do this. Someone wants you to think we did. Someone wanted something from you."
"Did you take the item?" the Bug shrieked. Suddenly its rage flew into relief: it mourned its fallen hivemates, but desperately wanted something they'd had in their possession.
Jack shook his head. "I took nothing from the garage but your dead. Send your own people to retrieve your goods. We won't stop you."
"Our people have searched."
That was fast. He wondered how they'd got in. Perception filters? Chunks of the slab from their old invisible lift were going for thousands apiece on the black market. Ianto had collected half a dozen thus far, and Albert had just brought in another yesterday.
Then he realised he was thinking like an alien hunter instead of like a gang leader. "You have police officers on your payroll."
The Bug clicked and flicked its antennae at him. "You say you had nothing to do with the massacre."
"I give you my word."
"Then Mopolite murdered them, and placed the blame at your feet. And he will pay."
Jack hesitated, but the conclusion was obvious. Mopolite wanted the Bugs dead. He'd said a week. Maybe a week was different on his homeworld. "You can't go after him for this. It'll be nothing but bloodshed."
"His!"
"And yours. Let me talk to him again. Make him see reason."
"My brethren are dead, Captain. Leave me their bodies and begone. This does not concern you, if you are as innocent as you claim."
Jack couldn't argue. As he went to leave, a delivery came in: a huge array of red roses in condolence. He snatched the card from the nervous deliveryman's yielding grasp. The man kept staring at the Boss Bug. Jack said, "Haven't you ever seen someone in fancy dress?" The man fled without a tip.
Jack handed the card to the Boss. "I hate to say you were right." Mopolite had sent the roses.
Once the car was emptied of bodies, Jack phoned Mopolite directly. "You have a lot of nerve."
"You will have to be more specific."
"You shot those Bugs this morning and tried to blame us. Then you sent that tacky bouquet. What kind of game are you playing? You said we had until tomorrow."
"I heard about the regrettable incident this morning," Mopolite said, sounding as though he did honestly feel bad about the brutal deaths of several of his enemies. "I merely wanted to express my condolences to the family. I hear you killed them."
"You heard wrong."
"One more day, Captain." The line clicked over. Jack tore the bluetooth off his ear and threw it into the passenger seat.
***
The Hub felt crowded with frightened people. Ianto had closed shop in front for the day. Let patrons who might want to buy their sweetheart a nice antique clock pass on by. He was busy wondering if they should ready a war council or prepare for a siege. Placing money on the latter, he took Lois aside and began making a list of supplies they'd need to withstand several days here as a group. More alcohol would be choice, to start.
"Do you think they'll really come after us?" she asked him, scratching down non-perishables.
"Don't you?"
Albert was busy helping Jack and Gwen pore over CCTV images from before and after the shooting. As when Alice was taken, the cameras in the vicinity had been deactivated. They concentrated on side streets, pushing the search parameters for known aliens. Alice and Rhys had both rapidly reached "In the way and bored," and that would only worsen if they were all trapped in close quarters for any length of time. Dr. Pol had solved this by finding a deck of cards and insisting on teaching them both a form of poker which only existed on her homeworld, and which Ianto strongly suspected she was making up on the spot.
"No," she said to Alice. "That's a half-pair. It's worth double if you have a face card."
Steven sat on the floor with Anwen. She had her ponies, and he had his army men, and they swapped out. Anwen babbled a story at him, which he ignored. The army man in his hand made "pew pew" noises at the one in hers, and she giggled. Then he knocked her man over, and took the purple pony.
"Mine!"
"No, my dude shot your dude. I get his stuff."
"MINE!"
"Here," he said, handing her another army man. "Have your dude shoot my dude. Then we can both take their stuff."
Ianto watched them play. Above them on the table, the hastily-wrapped coral sat on its precarious perch. He was meant to give that to Jack today, a romantic gesture for a romantic day. Instead, it kept watch over the children as they systematically killed the little plastic men and took possession of the little plastic horses. He'd been so proud of himself, too, swiping the coral out from under Firestone's nose.
Ianto nearly didn't trust himself to speak. He felt the idea stretching off his fingers like taffy. "Albert?"
Albert looked up from his notebook. Bracing himself for their usual barbs, he said, "What?"
"What did Mopolite say about the warehouse fire yesterday? What was taken?"
"An Angredi lifepod. It had crashed. Mopolite claimed he was storing the wreckage for the Angredi for 'religious reasons.'"
"But what did he say about us?"
Albert shrugged. "One of the warehouse guards saw a black SUV speed away from the site, and they thought it was ours. Most of the ship was missing from the ashes. They think we took it and burned the rest."
Lois said, "But we didn't. And we didn't shoot those Bugs in the garage."
"No." Ianto watched the children. "The Boss Bug said something was missing in the garage. Did he say what?"
Jack shook his head. "Some artefact. We'll find it."
"We won't. It was taken." He looked at Jack and Gwen. "This isn't a war. This is a game. It's called, 'You two fight, and we'll nick your things.'"
Gwen gave a short laugh. "This isn't a game. Aliens have been dying."
"People," said Dr. Pol from the card table.
"People," Gwen agreed. "That's not playing soldiers."
Ianto said, "Do you remember the week we worked for G.R. Owens? You sold perfume. I worked in the men's department. Please say you remember that."
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"
"You think Firestone is behind this?" Jack said. He looked sceptical. "This is a long-standing feud. They would have had to plan it for years."
"Not if they were just taking advantage."
Albert said, "Go into one gang, remind them how the other blokes knifed your mum. Send someone into the other gang, tell them those buggers ate your dog. Then sit back and watch them go at it and wipe one another off the map. I'm surprised we didn't think of it."
Ianto was too pleased that someone else saw the pattern that he didn't mind that someone was Albert, just this once.
Lois turned to her console and began running a search. "That's not quite right. The Bugs and the Machine aren't the largest threat. There's a third party with a huge collection of weaponry and alien artefacts. Strictly speaking," she said, pulling up the data in the fastest chart Ianto'd ever seen someone create, "the third gang would be the plum to pick."
"Us," Jack said, leaning in for a closer look at her numbers. "Hey, we're doing pretty good."
"I'll order us matching bandannas and tattoos next week," said Ianto. "Jack, I think Firestone has been fanning the conflict between the two gangs, and blaming us. It's her."
Gwen wrinkled her nose. She had no more love for Miss Valentine than Ianto did. The woman had nearly killed her the day they met. "She's a telepath. Remember how she pushed us when we were fighting her? She could be pushing them to fight right now." She stumbled a step back, and stared at Jack. "She could be pushing us right now. I can't tell you how many times over the last few days I've been thinking of something, and it's slipped out of my head. Like I'm trying to remember something but I forget that I've forgotten. I'm not going daft, shut up, Rhys," she finished without a pause.
The card game well and truly done, Rhys set down his hand and approached her like she was a feral cat. "Not any more than normal," he said in a cheery tone.
"What if she's in my head now? What if she's in all our heads? Making us think things. Or forget things."
Jack said, "Possible but unlikely. When we set up this place, I put in extra field dampeners. That includes dampening most outside psychic interference. You should be psychically deaf as a post in here."
"Not for everyone," said Dr. Pol, tidying up her cards. "I still pick up things."
"You're not a telepath," Albert said fondly. "You're just a weirdo." Pol harrumphed but didn't argue.
Ianto asked Jack, "Do you believe me?"
"I think there's a very good chance you're right. I also think we're going to have a very hard time proving anything."
Alice stared from one to another. "Why?"
"Why what?" asked Jack.
"Why prove it? Why step in? They're aliens." She glanced at Pol. "Sorry, but it's true. Torchwood's whole mission is to defend Earth from aliens. I learned to recite the line the same time I learned my alphabet. And if that's not enough, they are criminals in gangs. Let them fight. This isn't your problem."
Jack looked her way, and his eyes slipped to Pol, who sat watching him back. He sighed. "People, aliens or humans, don't join gangs because they're evil. They do it for protection, and for a sense of belonging."
Gwen said, "And crime."
Jack glared at her with a "You, too?" expression, but that had never daunted Gwen before and didn't now. "Yeah," he said finally. "Sometimes that too. And Mopolite is shoulder-deep in a lot. Not all his people are, and the Bugs have some rackets going, but they don't cause trouble for us. They police their own. None of them deserve to die because Firestone wants easy access to more tech."
***
Albert had all but begged for the job. Jack said no, pointing out how easily Miss Valentine got into human minds. "That's me, then," Pol had said, and refused to back down when Jack tried to talk her out of it.
She was the obvious choice, the only choice. Besides, she wanted payback.
With her handbag on her lap, and her hands folded primly, Pol waited in the second chair until Miss Valentine came into her own office, the small one she kept in Cardiff for local business. She stepped back, momentarily startled before she recomposed herself.
"Dr. Pol. What a pleasant surprise."
"I imagine it must be, yes. Did you think those men you sent managed to kill me?"
Valentine smiled politely and sat at her desk. She glanced over a pile of papers to one side, then returned her attention to Pol. "What men? No, I'm surprised you got past security."
"They'll recover."
"As you have." She tided the papers. "I'm rather busy. Did you have a reason for barging into my office?"
"I do. I'm here to make you an offer."
Valentine smiled thinly. "Jones can keep the coral. Our sources indicate it has little resale value."
"I'm offering you, right now and with no strings, the opportunity to prevent a war and at the same time, walk away with your life."
Pol felt a sharp prodding at the edges of her mind. Her own shields would not allow entry. Valentine appeared to notice this, frowned briefly, then smoothed her face into a bland disinterest. "Dr. Pol, I work in acquisitions and sales. I find items of interest to buyers, and I provide those items with a small surcharge."
"You're a weapons dealer."
"Firestone does provide some items of a stratotic nature. I can't judge my customers for any bellicose uses to which they might put their new possessions."
"And where do you acquire your items?"
"Where I can." Valentine fixed her with a stare. "Firestone is in the same business as Torchwood. We find alien artefacts and we take them."
"Torchwood doesn't go around starting gang wars."
Valentine sat back in her chair. The leather creaked. "I was under the impression the gangs in question were doing a fine job starting their own scuffles."
"They were. But you couldn't let them alone. You got involved. Your people have been assassinating key members of both gangs for months, and blaming each on the other side. You nearly had us caught up in the mess as well. You tried to frame the Machine for that break-in at Jack's place but the artefact you left was one you swiped from Ianto's collection. This morning, your people used our old car to frame us for the murders of seven Bugs, and you stole the artefact they had."
"That's a great deal of conjecture on your part. The way I heard the story, Torchwood had those Bugs killed in repayment for kidnapping Harkness's daughter."
"Which you assisted in. I can only assume you thought it would be good to distract Jack from what you were planning."
"Did it?" she asked, with a quirky smile.
Pol didn't reply. Instead, she opened her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of documents, which Lois had written up. "This is a confession for you to sign. We'll distribute the forms to the Bugs and the Machine. This can end cleanly, and it can end now." She handed the sheaf over.
"Why would I sign that?"
"It's the right thing to do."
"Not interested. Go home, Doctor. Bar your windows and lock your doors. You're intelligent for an alien. Stay out of this."
She ignored the 'for an alien' bit. "I can't. You see, I have sworn an oath to help suffering when I see it. These people are going to slaughter one another because of you. I have to do what I can to prevent that from happening." She leaned forward. "I'm not like you. I'm not as smart. I don't look at people as pieces in a game, and decide the winner myself. I can't see the board the way you do. I have to help the pawns. It's my job."
Valentine snorted. "Pawns exist to fall, Doctor. I don't care if Mopolite cuts all the Bugs down. I don't care if the Bugs eat him and his people alive. I would enjoy watching both groups take your fossil of a dead organisation with them. It doesn't matter who wins this stupid little war. I'll be there at the end with a bag and a long list of ready buyers for the weapons, the trinkets, and even the bodies. Whatever happens, I win."
"You'll set these people up to kill one another just to steal their things?"
"They aren't people. They are clever animals, and I want their pelts. It's just good business."
Pol looked down at her papers. She didn't meet Miss Valentine's eyes. "You could stop this."
"I have no intention of stopping it. Good evening, Doctor Pol."
Pol stood, placing the papers back into her bag and shutting it with a click. "Good evening, Miss Valentine."
She walked out as briskly as she could. The team had the exits covered, but that would be no help if she was killed on her way out. She made it to the door, and hated how her own alert levels flushed with relief as she stepped outside. A dark car pulled up at the kerb, and after one quick check to ensure her driver was a friend, she stepped in.
Jack sat in the back, waiting for her. "We got the recording."
"I have the backup," Pol said, pulling out her own microrecorder. "She's good. She almost didn't confess. Where are we?"
"Albert's halfway to London. Lois is trying to schedule a meeting for me with the Bugs."
At that moment, both comms crackled to life with Albert's voice. "Boss, we have a problem."
"Go ahead."
"I called ahead. Smith went in to let them know I needed a few minutes of their time. He says they've packed up."
"What do you mean? There are thousands of aliens in London."
"Yeah, and most of them aren't talking to us. The Machine's big hitters, and the man himself, they're not home. I think they're already in Cardiff, or on their way."
"Midnight," Jack sighed. "He meant it. Is everyone listening in?"
There was a short chorus. Lois cleared her throat. "The Bugs won't see you, and they won't listen when I tell them it's urgent. They're getting ready."
"Polly, I'm dropping you off. You're the only one who might get an answer out of the locals where this is going down."
Without further instruction, Ianto turned the car down a different street, headed towards the alien-heavy area of the city.
"Wait," Gwen said. "I have another idea."
***
Freda wouldn't even unlock her door. "Go away."
Gwen rested against the frame. She felt the eyes on her from the other flats in this building. Night had fallen, and she was alone in a place where everyone thought she and her friends had murdered a group of aliens this morning. "I need to talk to you. I know who killed your husband."
"It was you." She was crying on the other side of the door.
"No, sweetheart." She felt so bad for the girl. Lost in time, shunted from a world that hated her to a world where she was barely tolerated, and now a widow. "The people who had him and the rest killed wanted you to think so. I want to bring them to justice, but I need your help."
"You's lying. You always lies. You lied to me. You lied to Andy. You keeps lying!"
"I'm not lying now. I want to help you. I want to help your friends."
"He's dead," she said, whispering against the door. "Just like Gran, just like Mam. Killed for being what he was. Yous going to kill me next?"
"There's going to be a big fight tonight. Mopolite's Machine is already on their way. The Bugs are meeting them at midnight, somewhere in the city. They're going to fight and a lot of people are going to be killed. Please, Freda. If you know where they're going to be, you have to tell me. I can stop more people dying."
"Or kill us all in one place?"
Us. "You're not going tonight."
"Why shouldn't I? Got nothing left here. I can show those English ghost ies a thing or two. Better than waiting for them to come for me." Her breath hiccuped. "The Bugs say if we lose, Mopolite's going to make his thugs eat the men, and them's the lucky ones. The girls'll get grabbed for his brothels, or chucked into his harem."
"He's got two wives. It's hardly a harem." Besides, Martha had told her over drinks that his two wives were married to each other first and opted to marry him later. Gwen felt Freda would not care.
"I'd rather be dead than end up like that."
"No-one has to die. No-one is getting carried off. Freda, I can help you. I can stop this. You have to tell me where you're going tonight."
"What if you's lying again?"
Gwen grumbled in frustration. Freda didn't trust her, had no reason left to trust her. Then she said, "I can make you an offer. Let me in, tell me where this is going down, and I will give you the most valuable thing I have. I'll tell you where my daughter is tonight, and I'll take you there. You can be safe."
She waited for what felt like years. Then the chain rattled and the tongue slid in the groove, and the door cracked open.
***
Chapter 6
Words: 35,300 (4800 this part)
***
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
***
Chapter 5
***
Gwen set the phone back in its cradle. She'd left voicemail for Albert. Dr. Pol would stay with Lois tonight. Her home had already been invaded once. Gwen looked around her own lovely little home, the one they'd bought after all the madness and the travelling. Her life had been a whirlwind ever since she'd started at Torchwood, and once again, the maelstrom threatened her in her home.
"Rhys, love, I think you should take Anwen and go stay with my mother for a while."
Rhys looked up at her from the sofa, where he'd been half-watching the telly but mostly listening in on her calls. "I think that's the bloody stupidest thing I've heard all day. We can't up and leave just because you're spooked. Also, it's started to shit down snow."
"There's going to be a war, and we're right in the middle." Her pulse raced, and there were fears she couldn't quite name, memories lurking in her mind she didn't want to examine. She'd do anything for this idiot, and for the little girl asleep in her bed. She'd tried to kill her best friend once for their sakes. The memory was clear as day. "I don't want you hurt."
"Then stop the bastards." He looked pleased with himself for thinking of this. She sighed.
***
Lois checked the deadbolts again. "I've got my gun. You?"
Dr. Pol yawned as she settled in the sheets Lois had made up for her as a bed on the sofa. "In my bag. I hate leaving it around."
"I'll leave my door ajar. You hear anything at all, call for me."
There was a strong knock at the door. Lois jumped. Pol was on her feet instantly, scrabbling through her bag. "Don't answer that."
Lois put off the safety, and said, "We didn't order a pizza."
"Good. I hate pizza," said Albert from outside. "Let me in."
Lois glanced at Pol, who lowered her bag. Lois kept the gun raised; this could be a trap. She unlocked the door. Albert stood there, snow blowing around him. "Those roads are a nightmare. Can I come in?"
She stepped aside, and he hurried in, bringing snow and melt to drip on her carpet. "What are you doing here?"
"The boss brought me an artefact to look up, some Arkellian thing. I got that sorted, got Gwen's call, and reckoned you and Pol would be here."
"And?" asked Dr. Pol.
"And I thought, the safest place in Cardiff tonight would be between the two of you to protect me." He smiled his thin, pained smile.
Pol looked at Lois and shrugged. Lois lowered her gun, which she still had ready. She locked the deadbolt again. "Fine. The floor is yours."
***
February 14th
***
The heater was for shit in this manky little Grangetown bedsit. The paper blind, torn in two places, let in the bright glare from the snow outside and revealed frost inside the single-paned glass. All the better for the excuse to conserve body heat under the generous pile of quilts, Ianto decided, wrapping his arm more snugly around Jack, and pressing flat against him. The quilts had the faintly mouldy smell of bedding left in the cupboard too long without air. He buried his nose in Jack's arm to block it out.
"We should get up," Jack said, sounding unconvinced.
"No, we should stay in bed and have sex all day. It's Valentine's Day."
This earned him a kiss on the head. "I suspect I've been a terrible influence on you."
"You have." Ianto turned his head, and moved in for a better kiss. "Let's scandalise the new neighbours."
"The ones who think I'm your brother?" Jack didn't sound upset, and the darkening glow in his eyes suggested this was a whole new game to play.
"We could have gone to Barry. We're married in Barry."
Alice and Steven were safe in Caerphilly under the identities Ianto had planted there. Jack had insisted on returning to Cardiff despite the worsening roads. They had one day left of the truce, and they'd lost too much time looking for Alice. Jack had to spend today preventing a disaster.
First things first, though. They fell into each other, kissing like horny teenagers, hands reaching for skin and tangling in hair, and legs wrapping around and between for the best friction to rub and rut. Ianto kept his voice down. Jack didn't, moaning loudly either because he didn't mind the neighbours hearing, or because he wanted them to know what a good time he was having.
"We'll go somewhere nice when this is over," Jack said in his ear, reaching between them to take them both in hand. Ianto's hand joined his, letting Jack guide the rise and fall of their grip, faster and faster. "I'll pick up some oils, those ones you like, and cover your back in warm slick. We can slide against each other all night. You and me." He bit down on the earlobe, and Ianto howled.
From outside, Ianto heard the sound of what could have been a car backfiring in the distance, but he couldn't make himself care.
***
Gwen cased the scene, hands in gloves too thin for today's weather. Andy had been right about the aliens. She just wasn't sure how bad this was. As Jack and Ianto pulled up in Jack's car, she walked over to them, appreciating the heat from the engine. "Mass shooting. There's seven dead in there."
As they got out, Jack asked, "Human?"
"No. Jack, it looks like four of the head Bugs, two of their bodyguards, and another alien. A Berana." She'd known the face of one of them. Andy had already left to tell poor Freda.
They reached the roped-off doorway, and Jack turned, horrified. "Four? That's most of their top hierarchy."
"That's not the worst part. Andy interviewed witnesses, and they all saw a black SUV with the word 'Torchwood' stencilled on the side, speeding away."
Ianto said, "I told you we needed to take the logo off everything. Secret organisation, I said."
"Ianto, love, our new car doesn't have it. We haven't done since ages ago. You lost the car. Remember?"
They both looked at her oddly. "The point is," Gwen said, "it wasn't us. It clearly wasn't us unless Lois has been going on shooting sprees."
"It could be Albert," Ianto said. They both ignored him.
Jack led the way into the ruined garage. Gwen had been here once already, the smell of strange blood all up in her nose. "They were lined up," he said. "This was an execution."
"I'll get the bags," Ianto said.
"No. Go to Caerphilly, get Alice and Steven, and bring them to the Hub."
"What?" asked Gwen, and Ianto asked, "Why?"
"Someone just framed us for murder. The Hub is the most secure place for everyone right now. Gwen, call Rhys and have him bring Anwen. Everyone stays together."
"Which is fine," Ianto said, taking the keys, "until they decide to bomb the Hub again."
Gwen pulled out her mobile and dialled Harwood's. The new office had a bad telephone line, but Mandy eventually picked up and put her through to Rhys. Gwen gave him the short version as Jack began loading bodies.
***
Jack went alone to see the new Boss Bug. There was a very good chance he'd be shot on sight. Worse things had happened to him.
The admin outside the Bug office wouldn't let him in. "The Boss thinks Torchwood has done quite enough," he said, with an icy politeness. The admin could pass for human to someone who didn't know what to look for, and Jack did.
In the alien's native language, Jack said, "I swear, it wasn't us."
To Jack's lack of surprise, the door behind the admin opened, and the new Boss came out. "Your own police say it was you. You dare come into this hive of mourning with lies."
"I brought your dead to you. You can give the bodies their proper funerals." Normally he'd have ordered an autopsy before the release. No point, really. Hundreds of rounds of bullets naturally killed most living creatures dead. Even the Bug who'd still been alive when the police arrived expired soon after. "I am deeply sorry for your loss."
"Not sorry enough. We will make you bleed."
"We didn't do this. Someone wants you to think we did. Someone wanted something from you."
"Did you take the item?" the Bug shrieked. Suddenly its rage flew into relief: it mourned its fallen hivemates, but desperately wanted something they'd had in their possession.
Jack shook his head. "I took nothing from the garage but your dead. Send your own people to retrieve your goods. We won't stop you."
"Our people have searched."
That was fast. He wondered how they'd got in. Perception filters? Chunks of the slab from their old invisible lift were going for thousands apiece on the black market. Ianto had collected half a dozen thus far, and Albert had just brought in another yesterday.
Then he realised he was thinking like an alien hunter instead of like a gang leader. "You have police officers on your payroll."
The Bug clicked and flicked its antennae at him. "You say you had nothing to do with the massacre."
"I give you my word."
"Then Mopolite murdered them, and placed the blame at your feet. And he will pay."
Jack hesitated, but the conclusion was obvious. Mopolite wanted the Bugs dead. He'd said a week. Maybe a week was different on his homeworld. "You can't go after him for this. It'll be nothing but bloodshed."
"His!"
"And yours. Let me talk to him again. Make him see reason."
"My brethren are dead, Captain. Leave me their bodies and begone. This does not concern you, if you are as innocent as you claim."
Jack couldn't argue. As he went to leave, a delivery came in: a huge array of red roses in condolence. He snatched the card from the nervous deliveryman's yielding grasp. The man kept staring at the Boss Bug. Jack said, "Haven't you ever seen someone in fancy dress?" The man fled without a tip.
Jack handed the card to the Boss. "I hate to say you were right." Mopolite had sent the roses.
Once the car was emptied of bodies, Jack phoned Mopolite directly. "You have a lot of nerve."
"You will have to be more specific."
"You shot those Bugs this morning and tried to blame us. Then you sent that tacky bouquet. What kind of game are you playing? You said we had until tomorrow."
"I heard about the regrettable incident this morning," Mopolite said, sounding as though he did honestly feel bad about the brutal deaths of several of his enemies. "I merely wanted to express my condolences to the family. I hear you killed them."
"You heard wrong."
"One more day, Captain." The line clicked over. Jack tore the bluetooth off his ear and threw it into the passenger seat.
***
The Hub felt crowded with frightened people. Ianto had closed shop in front for the day. Let patrons who might want to buy their sweetheart a nice antique clock pass on by. He was busy wondering if they should ready a war council or prepare for a siege. Placing money on the latter, he took Lois aside and began making a list of supplies they'd need to withstand several days here as a group. More alcohol would be choice, to start.
"Do you think they'll really come after us?" she asked him, scratching down non-perishables.
"Don't you?"
Albert was busy helping Jack and Gwen pore over CCTV images from before and after the shooting. As when Alice was taken, the cameras in the vicinity had been deactivated. They concentrated on side streets, pushing the search parameters for known aliens. Alice and Rhys had both rapidly reached "In the way and bored," and that would only worsen if they were all trapped in close quarters for any length of time. Dr. Pol had solved this by finding a deck of cards and insisting on teaching them both a form of poker which only existed on her homeworld, and which Ianto strongly suspected she was making up on the spot.
"No," she said to Alice. "That's a half-pair. It's worth double if you have a face card."
Steven sat on the floor with Anwen. She had her ponies, and he had his army men, and they swapped out. Anwen babbled a story at him, which he ignored. The army man in his hand made "pew pew" noises at the one in hers, and she giggled. Then he knocked her man over, and took the purple pony.
"Mine!"
"No, my dude shot your dude. I get his stuff."
"MINE!"
"Here," he said, handing her another army man. "Have your dude shoot my dude. Then we can both take their stuff."
Ianto watched them play. Above them on the table, the hastily-wrapped coral sat on its precarious perch. He was meant to give that to Jack today, a romantic gesture for a romantic day. Instead, it kept watch over the children as they systematically killed the little plastic men and took possession of the little plastic horses. He'd been so proud of himself, too, swiping the coral out from under Firestone's nose.
Ianto nearly didn't trust himself to speak. He felt the idea stretching off his fingers like taffy. "Albert?"
Albert looked up from his notebook. Bracing himself for their usual barbs, he said, "What?"
"What did Mopolite say about the warehouse fire yesterday? What was taken?"
"An Angredi lifepod. It had crashed. Mopolite claimed he was storing the wreckage for the Angredi for 'religious reasons.'"
"But what did he say about us?"
Albert shrugged. "One of the warehouse guards saw a black SUV speed away from the site, and they thought it was ours. Most of the ship was missing from the ashes. They think we took it and burned the rest."
Lois said, "But we didn't. And we didn't shoot those Bugs in the garage."
"No." Ianto watched the children. "The Boss Bug said something was missing in the garage. Did he say what?"
Jack shook his head. "Some artefact. We'll find it."
"We won't. It was taken." He looked at Jack and Gwen. "This isn't a war. This is a game. It's called, 'You two fight, and we'll nick your things.'"
Gwen gave a short laugh. "This isn't a game. Aliens have been dying."
"People," said Dr. Pol from the card table.
"People," Gwen agreed. "That's not playing soldiers."
Ianto said, "Do you remember the week we worked for G.R. Owens? You sold perfume. I worked in the men's department. Please say you remember that."
"Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"
"You think Firestone is behind this?" Jack said. He looked sceptical. "This is a long-standing feud. They would have had to plan it for years."
"Not if they were just taking advantage."
Albert said, "Go into one gang, remind them how the other blokes knifed your mum. Send someone into the other gang, tell them those buggers ate your dog. Then sit back and watch them go at it and wipe one another off the map. I'm surprised we didn't think of it."
Ianto was too pleased that someone else saw the pattern that he didn't mind that someone was Albert, just this once.
Lois turned to her console and began running a search. "That's not quite right. The Bugs and the Machine aren't the largest threat. There's a third party with a huge collection of weaponry and alien artefacts. Strictly speaking," she said, pulling up the data in the fastest chart Ianto'd ever seen someone create, "the third gang would be the plum to pick."
"Us," Jack said, leaning in for a closer look at her numbers. "Hey, we're doing pretty good."
"I'll order us matching bandannas and tattoos next week," said Ianto. "Jack, I think Firestone has been fanning the conflict between the two gangs, and blaming us. It's her."
Gwen wrinkled her nose. She had no more love for Miss Valentine than Ianto did. The woman had nearly killed her the day they met. "She's a telepath. Remember how she pushed us when we were fighting her? She could be pushing them to fight right now." She stumbled a step back, and stared at Jack. "She could be pushing us right now. I can't tell you how many times over the last few days I've been thinking of something, and it's slipped out of my head. Like I'm trying to remember something but I forget that I've forgotten. I'm not going daft, shut up, Rhys," she finished without a pause.
The card game well and truly done, Rhys set down his hand and approached her like she was a feral cat. "Not any more than normal," he said in a cheery tone.
"What if she's in my head now? What if she's in all our heads? Making us think things. Or forget things."
Jack said, "Possible but unlikely. When we set up this place, I put in extra field dampeners. That includes dampening most outside psychic interference. You should be psychically deaf as a post in here."
"Not for everyone," said Dr. Pol, tidying up her cards. "I still pick up things."
"You're not a telepath," Albert said fondly. "You're just a weirdo." Pol harrumphed but didn't argue.
Ianto asked Jack, "Do you believe me?"
"I think there's a very good chance you're right. I also think we're going to have a very hard time proving anything."
Alice stared from one to another. "Why?"
"Why what?" asked Jack.
"Why prove it? Why step in? They're aliens." She glanced at Pol. "Sorry, but it's true. Torchwood's whole mission is to defend Earth from aliens. I learned to recite the line the same time I learned my alphabet. And if that's not enough, they are criminals in gangs. Let them fight. This isn't your problem."
Jack looked her way, and his eyes slipped to Pol, who sat watching him back. He sighed. "People, aliens or humans, don't join gangs because they're evil. They do it for protection, and for a sense of belonging."
Gwen said, "And crime."
Jack glared at her with a "You, too?" expression, but that had never daunted Gwen before and didn't now. "Yeah," he said finally. "Sometimes that too. And Mopolite is shoulder-deep in a lot. Not all his people are, and the Bugs have some rackets going, but they don't cause trouble for us. They police their own. None of them deserve to die because Firestone wants easy access to more tech."
***
Albert had all but begged for the job. Jack said no, pointing out how easily Miss Valentine got into human minds. "That's me, then," Pol had said, and refused to back down when Jack tried to talk her out of it.
She was the obvious choice, the only choice. Besides, she wanted payback.
With her handbag on her lap, and her hands folded primly, Pol waited in the second chair until Miss Valentine came into her own office, the small one she kept in Cardiff for local business. She stepped back, momentarily startled before she recomposed herself.
"Dr. Pol. What a pleasant surprise."
"I imagine it must be, yes. Did you think those men you sent managed to kill me?"
Valentine smiled politely and sat at her desk. She glanced over a pile of papers to one side, then returned her attention to Pol. "What men? No, I'm surprised you got past security."
"They'll recover."
"As you have." She tided the papers. "I'm rather busy. Did you have a reason for barging into my office?"
"I do. I'm here to make you an offer."
Valentine smiled thinly. "Jones can keep the coral. Our sources indicate it has little resale value."
"I'm offering you, right now and with no strings, the opportunity to prevent a war and at the same time, walk away with your life."
Pol felt a sharp prodding at the edges of her mind. Her own shields would not allow entry. Valentine appeared to notice this, frowned briefly, then smoothed her face into a bland disinterest. "Dr. Pol, I work in acquisitions and sales. I find items of interest to buyers, and I provide those items with a small surcharge."
"You're a weapons dealer."
"Firestone does provide some items of a stratotic nature. I can't judge my customers for any bellicose uses to which they might put their new possessions."
"And where do you acquire your items?"
"Where I can." Valentine fixed her with a stare. "Firestone is in the same business as Torchwood. We find alien artefacts and we take them."
"Torchwood doesn't go around starting gang wars."
Valentine sat back in her chair. The leather creaked. "I was under the impression the gangs in question were doing a fine job starting their own scuffles."
"They were. But you couldn't let them alone. You got involved. Your people have been assassinating key members of both gangs for months, and blaming each on the other side. You nearly had us caught up in the mess as well. You tried to frame the Machine for that break-in at Jack's place but the artefact you left was one you swiped from Ianto's collection. This morning, your people used our old car to frame us for the murders of seven Bugs, and you stole the artefact they had."
"That's a great deal of conjecture on your part. The way I heard the story, Torchwood had those Bugs killed in repayment for kidnapping Harkness's daughter."
"Which you assisted in. I can only assume you thought it would be good to distract Jack from what you were planning."
"Did it?" she asked, with a quirky smile.
Pol didn't reply. Instead, she opened her handbag and pulled out a sheaf of documents, which Lois had written up. "This is a confession for you to sign. We'll distribute the forms to the Bugs and the Machine. This can end cleanly, and it can end now." She handed the sheaf over.
"Why would I sign that?"
"It's the right thing to do."
"Not interested. Go home, Doctor. Bar your windows and lock your doors. You're intelligent for an alien. Stay out of this."
She ignored the 'for an alien' bit. "I can't. You see, I have sworn an oath to help suffering when I see it. These people are going to slaughter one another because of you. I have to do what I can to prevent that from happening." She leaned forward. "I'm not like you. I'm not as smart. I don't look at people as pieces in a game, and decide the winner myself. I can't see the board the way you do. I have to help the pawns. It's my job."
Valentine snorted. "Pawns exist to fall, Doctor. I don't care if Mopolite cuts all the Bugs down. I don't care if the Bugs eat him and his people alive. I would enjoy watching both groups take your fossil of a dead organisation with them. It doesn't matter who wins this stupid little war. I'll be there at the end with a bag and a long list of ready buyers for the weapons, the trinkets, and even the bodies. Whatever happens, I win."
"You'll set these people up to kill one another just to steal their things?"
"They aren't people. They are clever animals, and I want their pelts. It's just good business."
Pol looked down at her papers. She didn't meet Miss Valentine's eyes. "You could stop this."
"I have no intention of stopping it. Good evening, Doctor Pol."
Pol stood, placing the papers back into her bag and shutting it with a click. "Good evening, Miss Valentine."
She walked out as briskly as she could. The team had the exits covered, but that would be no help if she was killed on her way out. She made it to the door, and hated how her own alert levels flushed with relief as she stepped outside. A dark car pulled up at the kerb, and after one quick check to ensure her driver was a friend, she stepped in.
Jack sat in the back, waiting for her. "We got the recording."
"I have the backup," Pol said, pulling out her own microrecorder. "She's good. She almost didn't confess. Where are we?"
"Albert's halfway to London. Lois is trying to schedule a meeting for me with the Bugs."
At that moment, both comms crackled to life with Albert's voice. "Boss, we have a problem."
"Go ahead."
"I called ahead. Smith went in to let them know I needed a few minutes of their time. He says they've packed up."
"What do you mean? There are thousands of aliens in London."
"Yeah, and most of them aren't talking to us. The Machine's big hitters, and the man himself, they're not home. I think they're already in Cardiff, or on their way."
"Midnight," Jack sighed. "He meant it. Is everyone listening in?"
There was a short chorus. Lois cleared her throat. "The Bugs won't see you, and they won't listen when I tell them it's urgent. They're getting ready."
"Polly, I'm dropping you off. You're the only one who might get an answer out of the locals where this is going down."
Without further instruction, Ianto turned the car down a different street, headed towards the alien-heavy area of the city.
"Wait," Gwen said. "I have another idea."
***
Freda wouldn't even unlock her door. "Go away."
Gwen rested against the frame. She felt the eyes on her from the other flats in this building. Night had fallen, and she was alone in a place where everyone thought she and her friends had murdered a group of aliens this morning. "I need to talk to you. I know who killed your husband."
"It was you." She was crying on the other side of the door.
"No, sweetheart." She felt so bad for the girl. Lost in time, shunted from a world that hated her to a world where she was barely tolerated, and now a widow. "The people who had him and the rest killed wanted you to think so. I want to bring them to justice, but I need your help."
"You's lying. You always lies. You lied to me. You lied to Andy. You keeps lying!"
"I'm not lying now. I want to help you. I want to help your friends."
"He's dead," she said, whispering against the door. "Just like Gran, just like Mam. Killed for being what he was. Yous going to kill me next?"
"There's going to be a big fight tonight. Mopolite's Machine is already on their way. The Bugs are meeting them at midnight, somewhere in the city. They're going to fight and a lot of people are going to be killed. Please, Freda. If you know where they're going to be, you have to tell me. I can stop more people dying."
"Or kill us all in one place?"
Us. "You're not going tonight."
"Why shouldn't I? Got nothing left here. I can show those English ghost ies a thing or two. Better than waiting for them to come for me." Her breath hiccuped. "The Bugs say if we lose, Mopolite's going to make his thugs eat the men, and them's the lucky ones. The girls'll get grabbed for his brothels, or chucked into his harem."
"He's got two wives. It's hardly a harem." Besides, Martha had told her over drinks that his two wives were married to each other first and opted to marry him later. Gwen felt Freda would not care.
"I'd rather be dead than end up like that."
"No-one has to die. No-one is getting carried off. Freda, I can help you. I can stop this. You have to tell me where you're going tonight."
"What if you's lying again?"
Gwen grumbled in frustration. Freda didn't trust her, had no reason left to trust her. Then she said, "I can make you an offer. Let me in, tell me where this is going down, and I will give you the most valuable thing I have. I'll tell you where my daughter is tonight, and I'll take you there. You can be safe."
She waited for what felt like years. Then the chain rattled and the tongue slid in the groove, and the door cracked open.
***
Chapter 6