Into Gethsemane (3/11)
Title: Into Gethsemane (3/11)
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 (5,300 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 Two
***
Chapter Three
***
Ianto insisted on driving. "My name's on the title," he said, and not much else as he stowed the last two suitcases in the back.
"Suit yourself." Gwen had brought her laptop and a road trip bingo game she'd bought on the spur of the moment. Eight hours in a van together didn't sound so bad when they could take turns looking for road signs and livestock.
He kept himself to pleasant but terse answers as they drove through the city and caught the M4. If he was going to be in a snit the rest of the drive, car bingo might not be enough after all. She had charged her iPod. She could survive this.
Gwen phoned Rhys to let him know they were on the road. He'd spent their last morning together offering token complaints about this whole mess, and kissing her goodbye. "I'll ring you when we stop for lunch," she promised. "Crossing the Severn now. Wish us luck."
They held back on their usual mutual teasing, Gwen because she had an audience, Rhys because he sounded preoccupied. The world of haulage, it was a brutal mistress. "Love you," she said, and got his distracted, "Love you, too," in return.
She pressed the 'End' button. "Want to ring up Jack next?"
"We'll phone him when we're at the site."
"That's work. This is when you phone your boyfriend to tell him you've left on holiday with a gorgeous woman and you won't be in tomorrow."
"I'll tell him when we're in Glasgow."
"You're no fun." She sat back against her seat. He'd bought the leather interior, the easier for cleaning she supposed. That raised a question they hadn't gone over: who was in charge of the little maintenance details during their extended stay in points north? She'd assumed Ianto would perform his Man Friday role again, but he wasn't support staff anymore, and she never had been. Washing up loomed in both their futures.
"What's the Glasgow site like?"
"The office is above a shop. I think Archie last dusted in 1987. Torchwood House is all right. There's a groundskeeper. We'll have to decide if he's going to stay on." It was the longest thing he'd said to her all day. For that matter, it was the longest he'd spoken to her since Friday. She'd caught sight of him on Saturday in the kitchenette. Ianto had wrapped and packed away Toshiko's coffee mug with reverence into a cardboard box, placing it beside his own, the new one with the unicorn that Gwen had given to him at Christmas. Instead of loading the box into the van, though, she'd watched him carry it in the direction of the basement, silent and sad.
"How're you doing, Ianto? This is all kind of sudden, isn't it? One day, we're at dinner." Like normal people, she nearly said, but he might take that the wrong way. "The next, we're moving to Scotland."
"Torchwood means never making plans more than five minutes in advance."
"I suppose." He hadn't answered her question. "If you're not all right about this, you can tell me. I don't much like it, either. I'm hoping Rhys will be able to visit. It's going to be hard not seeing him every day. We'll talk but it's not the same." She worried her lip with her teeth, thinking about the long, lonely stretch of time in front of her. "You and Jack will have the same problem."
He didn't reply.
She found the jack for the iPod and plugged it into the dashboard. Ianto didn't raise an objection, and she chose a soothing playlist to ease her own nerves. "You can always call him and we'll both pretend it's work-related."
He changed lanes. For the first time, she noticed how white his knuckles were on the wheel.
"We're taking a break from each other while I'm in Glasgow."
Her mouth closed with a snap. Among her friends, 'Taking a break' was usually polite code for, 'The pre-break-up, during which we both go sleep with other people and use that as ammunition when the other inevitably finds out and makes the break-up permanent.' Given that one of the two involved was Jack Harkness, he might already be well on his way into bed with his next flavour of the week.
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't. It's fine." He smiled at her. She didn't believe the smile for a second.
"Maybe you should phone him now."
"It's fine," he repeated.
She worried with the rings on her hand. Then she said something she regretted for years after. "Maybe it is for the best. You two, it was never going to be a permanent thing, yeah?"
Silence.
"Jack's Jack. You ought to find someone nice, someone more your type." She tried to picture a more suitable lover for Ianto than their charming, immortal boss. He needed someone who'd be kind to him, who would accept the late nights and odd hours without complaint, who'd keep the flat tidy and make the meals and kiss him every night. Rhys was taken, obviously, but surely there was a woman or man out there who would make a good match for Ianto.
For no reason, she remembered Friday evening, and the sight of Jack stroking his hand like he'd been petting some treasure, something precious.
Ianto wasn't focusing on the road anymore.
Gwen shot him a look. "Want me to take over driving for a bit?"
"No."
She reached into the back. "How about a quick perk? Lois packed us a nice flask, and her coffee's almost as good as yours." Gwen unscrewed the lid and held the flask out as a peace offering. A warm aroma filled the interior of the van, covering the fresh leather smell of the new upholstery. Outside, everything was cold, but in here, they had a cosy oasis with heat, coffee, and Joni Mitchell.
After a moment, Ianto took the flask. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
***
Alice stared at the phone. Kate had said, "It's me. Run."
Steven looked up from his bowl of cereal. The red sleeves of his shirt rode up on his arms. He was growing again. Every time she turned around, her baby was an inch taller.
"Can I play at Tim's house after school?"
She set the phone down on the table. "Stay here, sweetheart." Upstairs in her bedroom she had two bags packed, one for herself, one for him. She gathered both, taking a quick glance around her room for her keys. She picked up the manila envelope last and hurried down to the kitchen.
"Mum?" Steven had juice around his mouth.
"We're going on a holiday. Get your coat."
She phoned the school, telling the secretary her son had a fever, and put on her own winter jacket.
"Get in the car."
***
Martha showed up to work Monday feeling much better.
She'd spent the weekend crying on Mum's sofa with a box of tissues and a bottomless mug of tea. Tish had dropped by with a handful of romantic comedies and a bag of chocolates to share. Mum had been careful to offer a sympathetic ear as well as the funnier anecdotes she remembered from her own hormone flux, without ever saying Martha was being melodramatic. Martha appreciated the effort. She called Tom Sunday night, and they'd talked.
Although she was always on-call for the infirmary, her primary work with UNIT was research-based, examining the effects of their latest innovations on the humans who were using the new tools. Her slate of patient tests began at ten; she arrived at eight-thirty to give herself time to catch up on paperwork and get ready for the day.
The small office she shared with another UNIT doctor had that musty smell of a room which had been closed for the weekend. As was her habit by now, Martha opened the small window for a minute despite the cold, then sprayed a fine mist of scent in the air.
Better.
As her computer booted, she put away her things, listening to the sounds of the base around her.
When the sounds changed abruptly, Martha opened the desk drawer with her handbag and checked for her sidearm. She didn't like to carry a gun, even now, but she'd survived too many alien encounters to believe she didn't need one from time to time: Sontarans, Daleks, the Cybermen "ghosts," the other ghosts at CERN. Frankly she was frightened sometimes, thinking about bringing a new life into a world this dangerous.
Boots stopped outside the door to her office. The gun was not in her hand, but was within reach.
Being arrested by humans came as a relief.
***
Jack gasped back to life with the need to pee and the urge to murder his employees. Neither one was for the first time, and when he saw he'd been put into one of his own cells, he decided to deal with the one he could have a say over. The small grating in the corner served as a urinal for any Weevil bright enough to be trained, and Jack reckoned himself at least that smart. He thanked whatever fortune was still looking out for him that his bladder rarely let go whenever he died. Maybe it was a god, Uranus for preference.
He laughed, stress crawling down his spine and making him spill the last few drops before he put himself away.
"Jack?" The voice came from the cell next to him.
"Perry, are you okay?"
"Yeah. I fell asleep and woke up a minute ago. What's going on?" He sounded tired rather than scared.
"We've got a problem. Rupesh shot me."
"We all told you not to make a pass at him."
"Not even a little bit funny, Perry." That had happened more than once. Jack didn't like remembering.
"Sorry. Why did he shoot you?"
Jack heard Janet -- he hoped it was Janet -- rustling in her own cell to the other side. "I don't know for sure. I've been working on information we might have been infiltrated. Guess we were."
"Where's Lois? Or Johnson?"
"I'm pretty sure Johnson is working with him. I don't know what they've done with Lois." He'd made his choices. Ianto and Gwen had escaped just in time, and he had to be grateful for their safety. Perry and Lois were caught up in the trap. Jack would do what he could to get them out.
He could start with freeing himself. He went to the panel at the side of the cell and opened it. Ianto had installed a code to unlock the doors from inside as a safety precaution after what had happened with Gray. All that Jack needed was to punch in the right sequence and ...
... watch as nothing happened.
"I can hear you moving around. What's going on?"
A sinking feeling hit Jack hard as the door at the far end opened. Lois came into the room and stood in front of the Perspex, watching Jack.
"Lois!" said Perry happily.
Jack stared back. "You're not here to let us out."
"Captain, you are hereby detained until you can be properly arrested. Due to your unique circumstances, I am authorised to take you into custody prior to the arrival of proper authorities." She spoke as if rehearsing a speech, meeting his eyes the entire time.
"Why?"
"You in particular are wanted for questioning in the matter of the murder of the American President Winters."
He pounded one fist into the wall. "That was dealt with two years ago. Harold Saxon murdered him on live TV."
"You're also a person of interest in the murder of PM Saxon, as an accessory after the fact abetting the escape of his wife."
Horror and terror nibbled at him, reminders of those dark days, and what he'd done to try and put them in the past for good. After the Valiant, Lucy had been declared dead and was held under another name without a possibility of parole, appeal, or pardon. He'd offered her a second chance, courtesy of a prison break.
"The names of your collaborators in the incident have been noted. Perry, that's the sole charge against you."
"This is stupid," Jack said. "Lois, there was more going on with that situation than you know."
She continued in a louder voice, "The surviving members of the previous incarnation of Torchwood, namely yourself, Gwen Cooper, and Ianto Jones, are going to face additional charges. Multiple counts of attempting to destroy the world. Multiple counts of disobeying direct orders of the British government."
Jack said, "We don't report to the government."
"The government thinks you should. You have no oversight, and it's led to the near-destruction of the Earth, not to mention repeated loss of life. I was given the order to bring you in. The Institute will be placed into more trusted hands with a much tighter leash."
"You? Johnson and Rupesh?"
"We'll be a part of the transition team. This isn't my job. My assignment is complete."
"To be a traitor."
"No." Her face was calm, and her head raised, giving him the perfect angle to strangle her if she hadn't been out of reach. "I have been under contract to Torchwood, not a direct employee. I have been working for my supervisors, and I have not betrayed their trust." Her mouth quirked at the end.
He made himself relax. "I'm the big fish. I gave everyone their orders, and you know how Torchwood operates: disobey and you're Retconned or worse. You don't need to involve the others in this."
"The order has already gone out to detain them. They will be brought to justice with you. You can share a lawyer if you like."
"So we are getting a trial?"
"Of course." He read her face carefully, but she'd been lying to him for months. If she was lying now, he couldn't tell, but he thought she believed her own story. "Justice means you all get your day in court like anyone else."
He stood back from the doorway and looked around the cell. Jack had been a prisoner here before, had been promised 'justice' before, and he didn't believe it this time any more than he had then. The government couldn't afford a trial open to the public, didn't dare bring Torchwood's doings before the light of day. They would disappear, would be disappeared. Perry and Martha, and Tish too if Lois reported her, might get away with prosecution on the escape of 'Allison Frye.' Martha would lose her registration. Perry, when his background unravelled, would find himself on a boat to Flat Holm. Ianto and Gwen would meet with 'accidents.' Jack himself would be locked away someplace secure. Depending on who took charge of Torchwood, he might end up back in this very cell, dripping and cold, being experimented on all over again, knowing he was the cause of the deaths of the people he loved.
"You don't know what's going on here if you think we're going to get out of this alive."
"No-one is going to be hurt. You have my word." Lois walked away.
"I thought I already had it."
She paused, then kept walking.
Jack punched the wall again.
***
On his very best days, Mickey felt a little like Batman: he had all this cool technology, he had a sweet flat he'd fixed up where he could monitor the goings-on of weird alien stuff and what UNIT thought were its secrets, all laid out bare for anyone who knew how to mine the Deep Web. He intended to set up a proper London office once Jack got the paperwork finished for the new Scotland site, recruit himself some competent and attractive assistants, then really go all secret vigilante alien-hunter.
Batman, yeah. (Mickey loved the films. He'd never heard the name "Oracle" except as a database programme.)
His hours weren't normal office hours by any means. He'd been up past four in the morning chasing rumours he didn't like the sound of, and was only now rolling out of bed. He poured himself a cold cup of coffee, took a quick rinse of his mouth, then spat it out, followed by dumping the clumpy remains of yesterday's last pot into the sink. He started a new pot to brew whilst he washed his face and brushed his teeth, letting his computer boot to life.
The new pot was almost ready when he sat down to check the morning news.
Three minutes later, the coffeepot was turned off and empty, his flat was vacant, and his computer had been set with a shredding-wipe of everything he hadn't backed up on his thumb drive.
When UNIT arrived two minutes after that, all they found was a blank hard drive and the fading smell of fresh coffee.
***
Lois could not operate the coffee machine as well as Ianto could. Also, she added too much sugar. He'd taken one rough swallow and set the flask between them, but kept nipping more as he drove. Gwen had retreated into the music, humming along as she read something on her laptop's screen. Every so often, she shot him looks that may have been pity.
He wished he hadn't told her. He wished none of this had come up, and that he and Jack could go back to where they'd been before either had spoken. Jack was a con man. Ianto was a liar. The true things were the words they never said out loud. The truth was in Jack's face, the mixture of pride and longing with which he watched Ianto when he didn't think Ianto was paying attention.
When they stopped for lunch, he'd ring Jack and ask him to bring the car next weekend.
He reached for the flask again when he saw the lights in the mirror. His eyes darted to the speedometer. They were going a little over the limit, only keeping up with traffic. He sighed about overzealous police, and wondered when he could get the van fitted with Torchwood's blue Don't Bother Us lights. His stomach did a flip, queasiness suddenly lurching through him. Nerves.
"Hold on. This day needed to get worse, apparently." The van pulled over to the side of the highway.
"You should have let me drive."
"Not helping." He closed his eyes. He really was feeling unwell. After the stop, Gwen could take over if she pleased and Ianto would have a lie down.
"Are you all right? You look ... " She didn't find a word, waved her hand in the air instead as the policeman reached the window.
"License."
"Right." Ianto reached for his license and was struck by a wave of dizziness. He rested his hand on his head a moment as the officer looked his identification over. Ahead of them, another marked police car stopped along the road. Two policemen stepped out.
Gwen frowned. She lifted the flask of coffee and pretended to drink as she said, "Ianto, this isn't right. Traffic stops don't work this way."
He took the flask from her and mouthed, "What do you see?"
The first policeman said, "We've had a report of a van matching this description transporting dangerous chemicals illegally. I'll need to search the back."
Ianto felt like hell. "Sorry, no. My colleague and I have proprietary equipment back there. I'll show you our documentation." He reached for the paperwork, which they carried in their own cars for cases just like this.
"They have guns," said Gwen.
"Get out of the car." The policeman pulled out a sidearm of his own. What the hell?
***
Tish was walking out the door to get to work when she saw them from the window of her flat: five armed men, sunglasses, dark suits. A sudden, nauseating flashback came to her, of being taken, imprisoned, hurt and degraded. All of it hit her in a burst, as though a cold hand had brushed hair behind her ear and smiled like a serpent.
Surprised and horrified, she barked a hysterical laugh, fear scooting her feet back from the window. Seconds later, her shoes were off, she'd grabbed a bread knife from the kitchen, and she was climbing her back stairs to get to the fire escape at the other side of the building.
As she opened the door, a man waited for her.
***
Ianto's gun was in the back. Gwen clutched her handbag, where he knew she carried hers when it wasn't feasible to have it in a proper holster. Jack moaned at her for it, but Gwen wore tight jeans and short jackets, and she hated scaring people.
She gave the policeman her sunniest smile. "There's been a misunderstanding. We have the correct paperwork for transporting these materials."
The other two officers had reached the van. The flow of traffic around them had stopped. Everything was still like a dream.
"Get out of the car, Miss Cooper."
They looked at each other.
Ianto gunned the engine, squealing the tyres as they peeled out from the roadside. Behind them, shots fired. One caught the side mirror, smashing it with a loud pop and crash.
"Shit!" said Gwen, grabbing for purchase. "What the hell was that?"
"A trap." He searched the road, but it was empty. They must have blocked traffic behind the stop point. "We have to get off the road before they catch up." The next exit was two kilometres away. He floored it, and was cheered to see the speedometer smoothly ride up. Good van.
Gwen had her mobile out. "Jack's not answering."
"He might still be on that Rift call." Ianto glanced at Gwen, but she looked as disbelieving as he felt. She hit 'End' and dialled another button.
"Rhys, love, you need to pack a bag."
Ianto found the exit and turned off. Whoever they were, they hadn't closed the road yet. Heart racing, head still not focusing, he forced himself to slow down.
"I know, I know. But that thing Jack told us about, it's happened. No, I'm fine, but I don't know if they'll go after you. Get a bag, go to that place." She closed her eyes. "Where we took that holiday right after uni. Don't say it out loud. I'll meet you there. Love you."
Ianto said, "We need to get back to Cardiff."
"They've IDed the van. We can't keep it."
"I know." He tried to think. They couldn't simply leave the van, or allow its cargo of alien-derived technology to fall into the wrong hands. "The warehouse." At her blank look, he said, "Torchwood owns some storage sites. We can hide the van and come back for it later."
"Won't they find it there?"
He shook his head. "Not all of them are owned via, ah, legal channels. I'm not even sure Jack knows them all." Ianto pulled up the satnav for the best out of the way route back.
"Are you feeling all right?" Her hand was soft on his, but everything prickled.
"I'll be fine." He took another drink of the too-sweet coffee to steady himself. "Try Jack again." They'd have to get rid of their mobiles. They'd have to regroup somewhere safe and determine how bad this really was.
His head swam.
Gwen reached for the coffee flask, and suddenly he knew. Before she could drink, he swatted the flask from her hands, spilling it to the floor. "Don't touch it. I think ... I think."
"Ianto, pull over." Her face was wide with fear, the same thought clearly going through her head. What a simple, brilliant plan: Johnson probably poisoned the coffee beans last night, knowing Ianto or Lois would make a pot first thing for everyone.
A horn sounded.
The road was closed ahead. More men who weren't police stood there with guns visible. Ianto veered the van in a quick 180, scraping two cars around him as he turned, accelerating. Gwen was thrown in her seat.
The street they were on wasn't made for driving this fast. Ianto prayed to whatever friendly god looked out for pedestrians, small animals, and other vehicles that nobody got in their way as they swerved in and out of lanes, desperate to get away.
***
Tish already had the knife out, but he backed away, and said, "Wait!" in a hushing voice. He wasn't dressed like the suited men, just a normal bloke in a jacket and jeans, and a second later, she remembered him from a car ride back to London.
"Mike?"
"Mickey. Come on, there's no one over this way." He took her hand and they hurried away from her flat. "You ruined my entrance, by the way. I was gonna say, 'Come with me if you want to live,' like in that one movie."
His car was parked a block away.
Tish hesitated. She'd met this man once, another of Martha's friends tied to the Doctor, but what if he was there to deliver her to whomever was knocking on her flat door right now? Or worse?
"They're after me, too. That business with Lucy Saxon. I'm leaving. Are you coming?"
She got in. "Why did you get me? Where's Martha?"
"You were the closest to my flat. Martha's at work now, right? I can't get us on a UNIT base. Get down."
She hid as they drove. From her crouch she could see streets go by. Mickey drove them slowly, not attracting attention.
"You got your phone?"
She checked her pocket. "Yeah." Before he could even tell her, she dialled Martha's number, then Jack's. No answer.
***
"We're going to visit Auntie Gia," Alice told Steven as their taxi pulled up at the kerb outside Heathrow. "It's a surprise."
She hated lying to him, hated worse that she could see the disbelief on his face. Steven was getting older now, just a bit, and had grown canny enough to tell when something had gone wrong. But he kept his lips shut, and nodded, vanishing his attention into his Nintendo when they had to wait in line.
Alice scanned the list of departing flights, and chose one that looked reasonable. False identification in hand, she and Steven went to the ticket counter. "We'd like to book two tickets for the one o'clock flight to Lisbon. It's a family emergency. My sister is in hospital and needs someone to take care of her kids." She'd worked out the story on the way to the airport, about her sister Janice, Janice's do-nothing of a husband, and their three children, the youngest barely a month old, poor lamb.
Steven watched her lie, and returned his attention to Mario and company.
After Portugal, they'd take a train into Spain. Her mate Netty from uni lived outside of Toledo. Alice and Steven would stay with her for a few days, and consider their next move. Her friend Phillipa was in Copenhagen, and had offered Alice an open invitation ages ago. Mum had often extolled the virtues of multiple bolt holes at the ready.
"Here you are, Mrs. Madison," said the agent behind the counter with a pleasant, false smile. For a moment, Alice didn't know whom she meant, then she recovered, thanked the woman, and took their tickets.
They had some time. "How about a snack?" That perked him up, and guilt flooded her: Alice did not want to be the mother who bribed her child with food. For that matter, she didn't want to be the mother on the run from God knew what. Her father, as usual, had a lot to answer for.
As they passed the security guards, she tried to smile.
***
Gwen held on tightly as Ianto drove. A glance in the still-intact mirror showed cars in pursuit, and gaining on them. She grabbed the satnav, scanning it for a safe route. "Make a left at the next light." The light turned red in front of them. Ianto floored it, tearing through the intersection just ahead of the cross traffic. Gwen turned to watch one of their pursuers smash into a red Golf, and she winced.
They sped down the street, coming up on an open area. "Past this, make a right. We can get back on the southbound road." Behind them, she could see figures in the closest car. One of them had a phone or similar at his mouth. Hurriedly, she looked for another route. "Hard left. Now!"
He complied, tearing the wheel and scraping the door against a post. "Now left again."
They veered, and Gwen pointed to an alley. Ianto backed the van into a spot, sheltered from view, and they watched as the other cars whizzed by thirty seconds later.
"Good call," he said.
"I'm good with maps." His face had gone terribly pale. "Ianto, let me drive."
He shook his head. "Get out, go on foot from here. I'll lead them off with the van. Get to Rhys, find Jack."
"We shouldn't split up. Come with me. Leave the van, it's ruined anyway."
"If we don't split up, they'll catch us both." He closed his eyes. "Gwen, I don't think I can walk that far. Hurry."
Gwen dug in the back seat. Her suitcases had to stay, but she had a quick bag she'd packed her necessaries in. She gave Ianto another frightened look. "We'll meet you at ... "
"Don't. If you don't tell me, I can't tell them."
She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Be safe."
The alley wasn't dark, wasn't dirty, was just narrow enough to give her a chance to flee down to the other end behind the van. She tucked her hair up inside her hat, wrapped her scarf so that her face was partially obscured, and walked at a normal pace away from him. A moment later, she heard the van driving out the other end of the alley.
Get to Rhys. Get to Jack. Gwen shivered deeper inside her jacket. The sunlight was thin here, and cold. From a near distance, she heard sounds of the rejoined pursuit. Other bundled-up pedestrians out for the day rubbernecked as unmarked cars zipped by, heedless of the traffic laws. She watched with them, blending in with the crowd. In this press, she could lift someone's mobile.
Gwen's hand went casually beside a woman's open handbag, darting in and out. Prize seized, she slid the new mobile into her pocket and walked casually away. Her own mobile would be tracked. She'd drop it in the next bin she came to.
The van raced past them, miraculously not striking anyone. Gwen blanched when she saw two oversized lorries parked end to end at the next intersection. Ianto saw them, and turned in time, but he was caught between the lorries and the approaching cars. The first of the pursuers parked. Two men emerged with guns. Someone in the crowd screamed.
Another car came close by and parked near the onlookers. Gwen affected to look away, then down at her hands, as she began walking in the other direction. Over the shouts, she heard the woman pretending to be a policewoman say, "Please get back. Clear the area. We are attempting to apprehend known terrorists."
Gwen swore inside her head. Someone wanted them caught, right enough, and this was the best cover story they could come up with?
She heard an engine rev. It was the van. He couldn't. If he came this way, he'd ram into the parked cars, he'd never get by.
Then she saw a man in the third car pull out a larger gun, something big enough to take out the heavily-armoured vehicle the SUV was and their new van really was not. All thoughts of escape forgotten, Gwen rushed back, tackling him. But not before he'd fired directly at the van.
She was on the ground with him, wrestling for the launcher, when she saw the explosion plain as day, blooming red and black and orange against the blue of the February sky.
***
Chapter Four
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 (5,300 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 Two
***
Chapter Three
***
Ianto insisted on driving. "My name's on the title," he said, and not much else as he stowed the last two suitcases in the back.
"Suit yourself." Gwen had brought her laptop and a road trip bingo game she'd bought on the spur of the moment. Eight hours in a van together didn't sound so bad when they could take turns looking for road signs and livestock.
He kept himself to pleasant but terse answers as they drove through the city and caught the M4. If he was going to be in a snit the rest of the drive, car bingo might not be enough after all. She had charged her iPod. She could survive this.
Gwen phoned Rhys to let him know they were on the road. He'd spent their last morning together offering token complaints about this whole mess, and kissing her goodbye. "I'll ring you when we stop for lunch," she promised. "Crossing the Severn now. Wish us luck."
They held back on their usual mutual teasing, Gwen because she had an audience, Rhys because he sounded preoccupied. The world of haulage, it was a brutal mistress. "Love you," she said, and got his distracted, "Love you, too," in return.
She pressed the 'End' button. "Want to ring up Jack next?"
"We'll phone him when we're at the site."
"That's work. This is when you phone your boyfriend to tell him you've left on holiday with a gorgeous woman and you won't be in tomorrow."
"I'll tell him when we're in Glasgow."
"You're no fun." She sat back against her seat. He'd bought the leather interior, the easier for cleaning she supposed. That raised a question they hadn't gone over: who was in charge of the little maintenance details during their extended stay in points north? She'd assumed Ianto would perform his Man Friday role again, but he wasn't support staff anymore, and she never had been. Washing up loomed in both their futures.
"What's the Glasgow site like?"
"The office is above a shop. I think Archie last dusted in 1987. Torchwood House is all right. There's a groundskeeper. We'll have to decide if he's going to stay on." It was the longest thing he'd said to her all day. For that matter, it was the longest he'd spoken to her since Friday. She'd caught sight of him on Saturday in the kitchenette. Ianto had wrapped and packed away Toshiko's coffee mug with reverence into a cardboard box, placing it beside his own, the new one with the unicorn that Gwen had given to him at Christmas. Instead of loading the box into the van, though, she'd watched him carry it in the direction of the basement, silent and sad.
"How're you doing, Ianto? This is all kind of sudden, isn't it? One day, we're at dinner." Like normal people, she nearly said, but he might take that the wrong way. "The next, we're moving to Scotland."
"Torchwood means never making plans more than five minutes in advance."
"I suppose." He hadn't answered her question. "If you're not all right about this, you can tell me. I don't much like it, either. I'm hoping Rhys will be able to visit. It's going to be hard not seeing him every day. We'll talk but it's not the same." She worried her lip with her teeth, thinking about the long, lonely stretch of time in front of her. "You and Jack will have the same problem."
He didn't reply.
She found the jack for the iPod and plugged it into the dashboard. Ianto didn't raise an objection, and she chose a soothing playlist to ease her own nerves. "You can always call him and we'll both pretend it's work-related."
He changed lanes. For the first time, she noticed how white his knuckles were on the wheel.
"We're taking a break from each other while I'm in Glasgow."
Her mouth closed with a snap. Among her friends, 'Taking a break' was usually polite code for, 'The pre-break-up, during which we both go sleep with other people and use that as ammunition when the other inevitably finds out and makes the break-up permanent.' Given that one of the two involved was Jack Harkness, he might already be well on his way into bed with his next flavour of the week.
"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't. It's fine." He smiled at her. She didn't believe the smile for a second.
"Maybe you should phone him now."
"It's fine," he repeated.
She worried with the rings on her hand. Then she said something she regretted for years after. "Maybe it is for the best. You two, it was never going to be a permanent thing, yeah?"
Silence.
"Jack's Jack. You ought to find someone nice, someone more your type." She tried to picture a more suitable lover for Ianto than their charming, immortal boss. He needed someone who'd be kind to him, who would accept the late nights and odd hours without complaint, who'd keep the flat tidy and make the meals and kiss him every night. Rhys was taken, obviously, but surely there was a woman or man out there who would make a good match for Ianto.
For no reason, she remembered Friday evening, and the sight of Jack stroking his hand like he'd been petting some treasure, something precious.
Ianto wasn't focusing on the road anymore.
Gwen shot him a look. "Want me to take over driving for a bit?"
"No."
She reached into the back. "How about a quick perk? Lois packed us a nice flask, and her coffee's almost as good as yours." Gwen unscrewed the lid and held the flask out as a peace offering. A warm aroma filled the interior of the van, covering the fresh leather smell of the new upholstery. Outside, everything was cold, but in here, they had a cosy oasis with heat, coffee, and Joni Mitchell.
After a moment, Ianto took the flask. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it."
***
Alice stared at the phone. Kate had said, "It's me. Run."
Steven looked up from his bowl of cereal. The red sleeves of his shirt rode up on his arms. He was growing again. Every time she turned around, her baby was an inch taller.
"Can I play at Tim's house after school?"
She set the phone down on the table. "Stay here, sweetheart." Upstairs in her bedroom she had two bags packed, one for herself, one for him. She gathered both, taking a quick glance around her room for her keys. She picked up the manila envelope last and hurried down to the kitchen.
"Mum?" Steven had juice around his mouth.
"We're going on a holiday. Get your coat."
She phoned the school, telling the secretary her son had a fever, and put on her own winter jacket.
"Get in the car."
***
Martha showed up to work Monday feeling much better.
She'd spent the weekend crying on Mum's sofa with a box of tissues and a bottomless mug of tea. Tish had dropped by with a handful of romantic comedies and a bag of chocolates to share. Mum had been careful to offer a sympathetic ear as well as the funnier anecdotes she remembered from her own hormone flux, without ever saying Martha was being melodramatic. Martha appreciated the effort. She called Tom Sunday night, and they'd talked.
Although she was always on-call for the infirmary, her primary work with UNIT was research-based, examining the effects of their latest innovations on the humans who were using the new tools. Her slate of patient tests began at ten; she arrived at eight-thirty to give herself time to catch up on paperwork and get ready for the day.
The small office she shared with another UNIT doctor had that musty smell of a room which had been closed for the weekend. As was her habit by now, Martha opened the small window for a minute despite the cold, then sprayed a fine mist of scent in the air.
Better.
As her computer booted, she put away her things, listening to the sounds of the base around her.
When the sounds changed abruptly, Martha opened the desk drawer with her handbag and checked for her sidearm. She didn't like to carry a gun, even now, but she'd survived too many alien encounters to believe she didn't need one from time to time: Sontarans, Daleks, the Cybermen "ghosts," the other ghosts at CERN. Frankly she was frightened sometimes, thinking about bringing a new life into a world this dangerous.
Boots stopped outside the door to her office. The gun was not in her hand, but was within reach.
Being arrested by humans came as a relief.
***
Jack gasped back to life with the need to pee and the urge to murder his employees. Neither one was for the first time, and when he saw he'd been put into one of his own cells, he decided to deal with the one he could have a say over. The small grating in the corner served as a urinal for any Weevil bright enough to be trained, and Jack reckoned himself at least that smart. He thanked whatever fortune was still looking out for him that his bladder rarely let go whenever he died. Maybe it was a god, Uranus for preference.
He laughed, stress crawling down his spine and making him spill the last few drops before he put himself away.
"Jack?" The voice came from the cell next to him.
"Perry, are you okay?"
"Yeah. I fell asleep and woke up a minute ago. What's going on?" He sounded tired rather than scared.
"We've got a problem. Rupesh shot me."
"We all told you not to make a pass at him."
"Not even a little bit funny, Perry." That had happened more than once. Jack didn't like remembering.
"Sorry. Why did he shoot you?"
Jack heard Janet -- he hoped it was Janet -- rustling in her own cell to the other side. "I don't know for sure. I've been working on information we might have been infiltrated. Guess we were."
"Where's Lois? Or Johnson?"
"I'm pretty sure Johnson is working with him. I don't know what they've done with Lois." He'd made his choices. Ianto and Gwen had escaped just in time, and he had to be grateful for their safety. Perry and Lois were caught up in the trap. Jack would do what he could to get them out.
He could start with freeing himself. He went to the panel at the side of the cell and opened it. Ianto had installed a code to unlock the doors from inside as a safety precaution after what had happened with Gray. All that Jack needed was to punch in the right sequence and ...
... watch as nothing happened.
"I can hear you moving around. What's going on?"
A sinking feeling hit Jack hard as the door at the far end opened. Lois came into the room and stood in front of the Perspex, watching Jack.
"Lois!" said Perry happily.
Jack stared back. "You're not here to let us out."
"Captain, you are hereby detained until you can be properly arrested. Due to your unique circumstances, I am authorised to take you into custody prior to the arrival of proper authorities." She spoke as if rehearsing a speech, meeting his eyes the entire time.
"Why?"
"You in particular are wanted for questioning in the matter of the murder of the American President Winters."
He pounded one fist into the wall. "That was dealt with two years ago. Harold Saxon murdered him on live TV."
"You're also a person of interest in the murder of PM Saxon, as an accessory after the fact abetting the escape of his wife."
Horror and terror nibbled at him, reminders of those dark days, and what he'd done to try and put them in the past for good. After the Valiant, Lucy had been declared dead and was held under another name without a possibility of parole, appeal, or pardon. He'd offered her a second chance, courtesy of a prison break.
"The names of your collaborators in the incident have been noted. Perry, that's the sole charge against you."
"This is stupid," Jack said. "Lois, there was more going on with that situation than you know."
She continued in a louder voice, "The surviving members of the previous incarnation of Torchwood, namely yourself, Gwen Cooper, and Ianto Jones, are going to face additional charges. Multiple counts of attempting to destroy the world. Multiple counts of disobeying direct orders of the British government."
Jack said, "We don't report to the government."
"The government thinks you should. You have no oversight, and it's led to the near-destruction of the Earth, not to mention repeated loss of life. I was given the order to bring you in. The Institute will be placed into more trusted hands with a much tighter leash."
"You? Johnson and Rupesh?"
"We'll be a part of the transition team. This isn't my job. My assignment is complete."
"To be a traitor."
"No." Her face was calm, and her head raised, giving him the perfect angle to strangle her if she hadn't been out of reach. "I have been under contract to Torchwood, not a direct employee. I have been working for my supervisors, and I have not betrayed their trust." Her mouth quirked at the end.
He made himself relax. "I'm the big fish. I gave everyone their orders, and you know how Torchwood operates: disobey and you're Retconned or worse. You don't need to involve the others in this."
"The order has already gone out to detain them. They will be brought to justice with you. You can share a lawyer if you like."
"So we are getting a trial?"
"Of course." He read her face carefully, but she'd been lying to him for months. If she was lying now, he couldn't tell, but he thought she believed her own story. "Justice means you all get your day in court like anyone else."
He stood back from the doorway and looked around the cell. Jack had been a prisoner here before, had been promised 'justice' before, and he didn't believe it this time any more than he had then. The government couldn't afford a trial open to the public, didn't dare bring Torchwood's doings before the light of day. They would disappear, would be disappeared. Perry and Martha, and Tish too if Lois reported her, might get away with prosecution on the escape of 'Allison Frye.' Martha would lose her registration. Perry, when his background unravelled, would find himself on a boat to Flat Holm. Ianto and Gwen would meet with 'accidents.' Jack himself would be locked away someplace secure. Depending on who took charge of Torchwood, he might end up back in this very cell, dripping and cold, being experimented on all over again, knowing he was the cause of the deaths of the people he loved.
"You don't know what's going on here if you think we're going to get out of this alive."
"No-one is going to be hurt. You have my word." Lois walked away.
"I thought I already had it."
She paused, then kept walking.
Jack punched the wall again.
***
On his very best days, Mickey felt a little like Batman: he had all this cool technology, he had a sweet flat he'd fixed up where he could monitor the goings-on of weird alien stuff and what UNIT thought were its secrets, all laid out bare for anyone who knew how to mine the Deep Web. He intended to set up a proper London office once Jack got the paperwork finished for the new Scotland site, recruit himself some competent and attractive assistants, then really go all secret vigilante alien-hunter.
Batman, yeah. (Mickey loved the films. He'd never heard the name "Oracle" except as a database programme.)
His hours weren't normal office hours by any means. He'd been up past four in the morning chasing rumours he didn't like the sound of, and was only now rolling out of bed. He poured himself a cold cup of coffee, took a quick rinse of his mouth, then spat it out, followed by dumping the clumpy remains of yesterday's last pot into the sink. He started a new pot to brew whilst he washed his face and brushed his teeth, letting his computer boot to life.
The new pot was almost ready when he sat down to check the morning news.
Three minutes later, the coffeepot was turned off and empty, his flat was vacant, and his computer had been set with a shredding-wipe of everything he hadn't backed up on his thumb drive.
When UNIT arrived two minutes after that, all they found was a blank hard drive and the fading smell of fresh coffee.
***
Lois could not operate the coffee machine as well as Ianto could. Also, she added too much sugar. He'd taken one rough swallow and set the flask between them, but kept nipping more as he drove. Gwen had retreated into the music, humming along as she read something on her laptop's screen. Every so often, she shot him looks that may have been pity.
He wished he hadn't told her. He wished none of this had come up, and that he and Jack could go back to where they'd been before either had spoken. Jack was a con man. Ianto was a liar. The true things were the words they never said out loud. The truth was in Jack's face, the mixture of pride and longing with which he watched Ianto when he didn't think Ianto was paying attention.
When they stopped for lunch, he'd ring Jack and ask him to bring the car next weekend.
He reached for the flask again when he saw the lights in the mirror. His eyes darted to the speedometer. They were going a little over the limit, only keeping up with traffic. He sighed about overzealous police, and wondered when he could get the van fitted with Torchwood's blue Don't Bother Us lights. His stomach did a flip, queasiness suddenly lurching through him. Nerves.
"Hold on. This day needed to get worse, apparently." The van pulled over to the side of the highway.
"You should have let me drive."
"Not helping." He closed his eyes. He really was feeling unwell. After the stop, Gwen could take over if she pleased and Ianto would have a lie down.
"Are you all right? You look ... " She didn't find a word, waved her hand in the air instead as the policeman reached the window.
"License."
"Right." Ianto reached for his license and was struck by a wave of dizziness. He rested his hand on his head a moment as the officer looked his identification over. Ahead of them, another marked police car stopped along the road. Two policemen stepped out.
Gwen frowned. She lifted the flask of coffee and pretended to drink as she said, "Ianto, this isn't right. Traffic stops don't work this way."
He took the flask from her and mouthed, "What do you see?"
The first policeman said, "We've had a report of a van matching this description transporting dangerous chemicals illegally. I'll need to search the back."
Ianto felt like hell. "Sorry, no. My colleague and I have proprietary equipment back there. I'll show you our documentation." He reached for the paperwork, which they carried in their own cars for cases just like this.
"They have guns," said Gwen.
"Get out of the car." The policeman pulled out a sidearm of his own. What the hell?
***
Tish was walking out the door to get to work when she saw them from the window of her flat: five armed men, sunglasses, dark suits. A sudden, nauseating flashback came to her, of being taken, imprisoned, hurt and degraded. All of it hit her in a burst, as though a cold hand had brushed hair behind her ear and smiled like a serpent.
Surprised and horrified, she barked a hysterical laugh, fear scooting her feet back from the window. Seconds later, her shoes were off, she'd grabbed a bread knife from the kitchen, and she was climbing her back stairs to get to the fire escape at the other side of the building.
As she opened the door, a man waited for her.
***
Ianto's gun was in the back. Gwen clutched her handbag, where he knew she carried hers when it wasn't feasible to have it in a proper holster. Jack moaned at her for it, but Gwen wore tight jeans and short jackets, and she hated scaring people.
She gave the policeman her sunniest smile. "There's been a misunderstanding. We have the correct paperwork for transporting these materials."
The other two officers had reached the van. The flow of traffic around them had stopped. Everything was still like a dream.
"Get out of the car, Miss Cooper."
They looked at each other.
Ianto gunned the engine, squealing the tyres as they peeled out from the roadside. Behind them, shots fired. One caught the side mirror, smashing it with a loud pop and crash.
"Shit!" said Gwen, grabbing for purchase. "What the hell was that?"
"A trap." He searched the road, but it was empty. They must have blocked traffic behind the stop point. "We have to get off the road before they catch up." The next exit was two kilometres away. He floored it, and was cheered to see the speedometer smoothly ride up. Good van.
Gwen had her mobile out. "Jack's not answering."
"He might still be on that Rift call." Ianto glanced at Gwen, but she looked as disbelieving as he felt. She hit 'End' and dialled another button.
"Rhys, love, you need to pack a bag."
Ianto found the exit and turned off. Whoever they were, they hadn't closed the road yet. Heart racing, head still not focusing, he forced himself to slow down.
"I know, I know. But that thing Jack told us about, it's happened. No, I'm fine, but I don't know if they'll go after you. Get a bag, go to that place." She closed her eyes. "Where we took that holiday right after uni. Don't say it out loud. I'll meet you there. Love you."
Ianto said, "We need to get back to Cardiff."
"They've IDed the van. We can't keep it."
"I know." He tried to think. They couldn't simply leave the van, or allow its cargo of alien-derived technology to fall into the wrong hands. "The warehouse." At her blank look, he said, "Torchwood owns some storage sites. We can hide the van and come back for it later."
"Won't they find it there?"
He shook his head. "Not all of them are owned via, ah, legal channels. I'm not even sure Jack knows them all." Ianto pulled up the satnav for the best out of the way route back.
"Are you feeling all right?" Her hand was soft on his, but everything prickled.
"I'll be fine." He took another drink of the too-sweet coffee to steady himself. "Try Jack again." They'd have to get rid of their mobiles. They'd have to regroup somewhere safe and determine how bad this really was.
His head swam.
Gwen reached for the coffee flask, and suddenly he knew. Before she could drink, he swatted the flask from her hands, spilling it to the floor. "Don't touch it. I think ... I think."
"Ianto, pull over." Her face was wide with fear, the same thought clearly going through her head. What a simple, brilliant plan: Johnson probably poisoned the coffee beans last night, knowing Ianto or Lois would make a pot first thing for everyone.
A horn sounded.
The road was closed ahead. More men who weren't police stood there with guns visible. Ianto veered the van in a quick 180, scraping two cars around him as he turned, accelerating. Gwen was thrown in her seat.
The street they were on wasn't made for driving this fast. Ianto prayed to whatever friendly god looked out for pedestrians, small animals, and other vehicles that nobody got in their way as they swerved in and out of lanes, desperate to get away.
***
Tish already had the knife out, but he backed away, and said, "Wait!" in a hushing voice. He wasn't dressed like the suited men, just a normal bloke in a jacket and jeans, and a second later, she remembered him from a car ride back to London.
"Mike?"
"Mickey. Come on, there's no one over this way." He took her hand and they hurried away from her flat. "You ruined my entrance, by the way. I was gonna say, 'Come with me if you want to live,' like in that one movie."
His car was parked a block away.
Tish hesitated. She'd met this man once, another of Martha's friends tied to the Doctor, but what if he was there to deliver her to whomever was knocking on her flat door right now? Or worse?
"They're after me, too. That business with Lucy Saxon. I'm leaving. Are you coming?"
She got in. "Why did you get me? Where's Martha?"
"You were the closest to my flat. Martha's at work now, right? I can't get us on a UNIT base. Get down."
She hid as they drove. From her crouch she could see streets go by. Mickey drove them slowly, not attracting attention.
"You got your phone?"
She checked her pocket. "Yeah." Before he could even tell her, she dialled Martha's number, then Jack's. No answer.
***
"We're going to visit Auntie Gia," Alice told Steven as their taxi pulled up at the kerb outside Heathrow. "It's a surprise."
She hated lying to him, hated worse that she could see the disbelief on his face. Steven was getting older now, just a bit, and had grown canny enough to tell when something had gone wrong. But he kept his lips shut, and nodded, vanishing his attention into his Nintendo when they had to wait in line.
Alice scanned the list of departing flights, and chose one that looked reasonable. False identification in hand, she and Steven went to the ticket counter. "We'd like to book two tickets for the one o'clock flight to Lisbon. It's a family emergency. My sister is in hospital and needs someone to take care of her kids." She'd worked out the story on the way to the airport, about her sister Janice, Janice's do-nothing of a husband, and their three children, the youngest barely a month old, poor lamb.
Steven watched her lie, and returned his attention to Mario and company.
After Portugal, they'd take a train into Spain. Her mate Netty from uni lived outside of Toledo. Alice and Steven would stay with her for a few days, and consider their next move. Her friend Phillipa was in Copenhagen, and had offered Alice an open invitation ages ago. Mum had often extolled the virtues of multiple bolt holes at the ready.
"Here you are, Mrs. Madison," said the agent behind the counter with a pleasant, false smile. For a moment, Alice didn't know whom she meant, then she recovered, thanked the woman, and took their tickets.
They had some time. "How about a snack?" That perked him up, and guilt flooded her: Alice did not want to be the mother who bribed her child with food. For that matter, she didn't want to be the mother on the run from God knew what. Her father, as usual, had a lot to answer for.
As they passed the security guards, she tried to smile.
***
Gwen held on tightly as Ianto drove. A glance in the still-intact mirror showed cars in pursuit, and gaining on them. She grabbed the satnav, scanning it for a safe route. "Make a left at the next light." The light turned red in front of them. Ianto floored it, tearing through the intersection just ahead of the cross traffic. Gwen turned to watch one of their pursuers smash into a red Golf, and she winced.
They sped down the street, coming up on an open area. "Past this, make a right. We can get back on the southbound road." Behind them, she could see figures in the closest car. One of them had a phone or similar at his mouth. Hurriedly, she looked for another route. "Hard left. Now!"
He complied, tearing the wheel and scraping the door against a post. "Now left again."
They veered, and Gwen pointed to an alley. Ianto backed the van into a spot, sheltered from view, and they watched as the other cars whizzed by thirty seconds later.
"Good call," he said.
"I'm good with maps." His face had gone terribly pale. "Ianto, let me drive."
He shook his head. "Get out, go on foot from here. I'll lead them off with the van. Get to Rhys, find Jack."
"We shouldn't split up. Come with me. Leave the van, it's ruined anyway."
"If we don't split up, they'll catch us both." He closed his eyes. "Gwen, I don't think I can walk that far. Hurry."
Gwen dug in the back seat. Her suitcases had to stay, but she had a quick bag she'd packed her necessaries in. She gave Ianto another frightened look. "We'll meet you at ... "
"Don't. If you don't tell me, I can't tell them."
She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "Be safe."
The alley wasn't dark, wasn't dirty, was just narrow enough to give her a chance to flee down to the other end behind the van. She tucked her hair up inside her hat, wrapped her scarf so that her face was partially obscured, and walked at a normal pace away from him. A moment later, she heard the van driving out the other end of the alley.
Get to Rhys. Get to Jack. Gwen shivered deeper inside her jacket. The sunlight was thin here, and cold. From a near distance, she heard sounds of the rejoined pursuit. Other bundled-up pedestrians out for the day rubbernecked as unmarked cars zipped by, heedless of the traffic laws. She watched with them, blending in with the crowd. In this press, she could lift someone's mobile.
Gwen's hand went casually beside a woman's open handbag, darting in and out. Prize seized, she slid the new mobile into her pocket and walked casually away. Her own mobile would be tracked. She'd drop it in the next bin she came to.
The van raced past them, miraculously not striking anyone. Gwen blanched when she saw two oversized lorries parked end to end at the next intersection. Ianto saw them, and turned in time, but he was caught between the lorries and the approaching cars. The first of the pursuers parked. Two men emerged with guns. Someone in the crowd screamed.
Another car came close by and parked near the onlookers. Gwen affected to look away, then down at her hands, as she began walking in the other direction. Over the shouts, she heard the woman pretending to be a policewoman say, "Please get back. Clear the area. We are attempting to apprehend known terrorists."
Gwen swore inside her head. Someone wanted them caught, right enough, and this was the best cover story they could come up with?
She heard an engine rev. It was the van. He couldn't. If he came this way, he'd ram into the parked cars, he'd never get by.
Then she saw a man in the third car pull out a larger gun, something big enough to take out the heavily-armoured vehicle the SUV was and their new van really was not. All thoughts of escape forgotten, Gwen rushed back, tackling him. But not before he'd fired directly at the van.
She was on the ground with him, wrestling for the launcher, when she saw the explosion plain as day, blooming red and black and orange against the blue of the February sky.
***
Chapter Four