The Torchwood Three team had been following a slew of odd activity over the last three months. It was a case that had been somewhat on the back burner, among other cases. They had finally pinpointed what had been happening; that was a mixed group of human and alien renegades had been smuggling alien weapons in and out of Cardiff. Jack had notified UNIT of the weapons trade and they had tracked down the weapons on an international scale, but Jack had insisted that Torchwood could take care of the local threat. It had just been a matter of tracking down the drop off and storage points. It was obvious the humans had taken charge of the operation, at least on Earth, because both of these points were in the same location. Typical of humans to choose convenience over stealth. That made the shutting down of the operation rather easy. A combination of good old fashioned reconnaissance and GPS tracking devices had led them straight to the warehouse on the edge of the city where the weapons were being stored. It also covered for the ships landing to drop off their cargo.

And so the team was waiting for the opportune moment to storm the warehouse, scatter anybody inside and then blow the place off the map, thereby removing all and any evidence of the existence of alien technology. And of course the 'scattering' would be heavily monitored for future retcon administration. It sounded easy enough, but of course that's when things went wrong.

The plan was for Jack, Ianto, Gwen and Owen to take an entrance each, whilst Tosh monitored it all from the Hub. Jack, being as flamboyant has he was, insisted that he enter from the front entrance, thereby garnering the most attention and allowing the others to enter inconspicuously from behind. Jack would give a speech about the dangers of weapons dealing and lecture the poor gullible humans about making deals with untrustworthy aliens. The others would of course be using this distraction to surreptitiously plant charges in each room of the warehouse and, in some cases, collect samples of smaller weapons to be studied at a later date. Then they would herd the culprits out the front door as quickly as possible. A quick search through the warehouse would ensure that there was no one else hiding away, only to be blown up with the stolen goods. Once everyone was out of the blast radius Tosh would detonate the explosives remotely.

Simple enough. In fact there had been no arguments about it when it had been proposed at the team meeting. It somehow slipped all of their minds that they were about to storm a weapons base. Or at least none of them had managed to make the connection between weapons and real bodily harm. To be entirely fair, this was one of the tamer cases they'd had in the last few months. There didn't seem to be anything particularly dangerous about it.

So they went in as planned. Ianto ran around to the back entrance of the building and was just about in place when something caught his eye. In the paved area behind the warehouse, a rudimentary shooting range had been set up. There were a few standing targets with significant burn marks, and scattered debris of what he assumed was the remains of previous targets. There was also a table of dismantled weapons. A sinister thought dawned on Ianto. These people weren't just transporting weapons to war zones, it was evident that they'd been practicing with them. In the team meeting everyone had just assumed that they'd be facing up against human weapons, but it appeared as though the smugglers had learned to use the weapons they were smuggling. Of course they had. There was no point smuggling weapons that no one knew how to use.

This was bad. This was very bad. The danger of this mission had just stepped up a notch. Ianto had to tell the others. Maybe they should head back to base and develop a new strategy and re-arm themselves. He pressed a finger to the comms device in his ear.

"Jack," he said, quietly. "We may have a problem, sir. It appears the smugglers have learned how to fire the alien weapons."

"What do you mean Ianto?"

"I mean, there is a firing range behind the warehouse," he explained. "And the targets have been thoroughly destroyed. They may not have the best aim, but they will surely do some damage."

"Right," Jack sighed. "The situation has just upgraded to: kill or be killed. No one, but us, comes out of that warehouse alive. Their weapons outstrip ours by light years, literally, so if you have a shot you take it. Understood?"

Gwen and Owen responded in the affirmative. Ianto, however, was much more hesitant.

"Ianto, is there a problem?"

"We're to go ahead as planned, right, sir?"

"Right."

"So, you'll just storm in the front door, with just your revolver, and try to talk them down while they shoot all sorts of beams and rays at you?"

"That is the plan, Ianto. Thank you for summing it up."

"But you'll get killed, Jack."

"That would be the 'be killed' part of 'kill or be killed'. I'll come back, I always do."

Ianto clenched his jaw for a moment before responding.

"That's not the point Jack," he retorted. "You shouldn't have to die in the first place."

"It is a necessary sacrifice," Jack snapped. "This is not up for debate. You don't have to be happy about it, but you do have to go along with it."

The following pause brought with it a deafening silence. The tension was thick and no one dared what was quickly evolving into a lover's spat.

"Fine." said Ianto.

He moved into position and waited for Jack's signal. He heard Jack's entrance and subsequent death through his ear piece, but pushed on with the mission in spite of it, planting the explosives and killing any smugglers he came across, as per Jack's orders. They did in fact have superior weapons, but their aim and reflexes were very poor. When the threat in his area was sufficiently neutralised, he moved into the front of the warehouse. There had apparently been quite a fight in this area. It was not surprising to see that each of Jack's killers was dead on the floor. Jack, even when dying, tended to put up one hell of a fight. Speaking of which, there he was lying in a pool of his own blood. He had gone down fighting, as evidenced by the gun still in his hand.

Ianto vaguely heard Owen and Gwen enter the room behind him. He wasn't paying much attention. He was figuring out the best way to remove Jack's body from the pool of blood without ruining his shoes and suit. More importantly he was planning how to most efficiently move Jack to the SUV.

"C'mon Ianto," insisted Owen. "We've gotta finish planting the explosives. Job to do."

Instead, Ianto handed his left over explosives to Owen.

"I have to move Jack," he replied. "Can't just leave him to be blown up with the rest of the place."

"Why not?" asked Gwen. "He'll just come back won't he? Surely after everything else an explosion won't kill him."

"That is not a theory I want to test out, thank you very much." Ianto scowled in Gwen's direction. "And I imagine coming back after being exploded isn't very pleasant. I'd like to spare him as much pain as possible. I'll meet you at the SUV."

Not bothering to wait for any follow up arguments from Gwen, Ianto lifted Jack by the collar of his ruined greatcoat and dragged him out of the pool of blood. He surveyed the state Jack was in and sighed. His entire front was soaked red, there was no practical way to carry Jack without ruining his suit. Without further ado, Ianto hefted Jack's left arm over his own shoulders and wrapped his arm around Jack's waist. It was a hard task, but Ianto managed to half drag, half carry Jack all the way out to the SUV. He propped the temporary corpse up against the side of the vehicle and opened passenger side door. He lifted Jack into the car and then circled to the other side and got in, resting Jack's head on his lap.

Finally he took a moment to inspect the damage. The front of Jack's shirt had been torn to bits and his abdomen was covered in gaping holes and burnt skin. The burns ran up Jack's neck and up one side of his face. Half of one of his eyebrows was gone and his fringe was singed, Ianto could tell by the scent of burnt hair that lingered. It was not a pleasant sight, and yet even as Ianto watched the wounds in Jack's chest began closing and the rippled burns began smoothing out. The redness was going down as well, fading to a dusky pink. Past experience told Ianto that the burns would take longer to heal than the rest of the wounds, as they were not life threatening, but they would hurt like hell when Jack revived. And unlike the wounds in Jack's flesh, his eyebrow would not grow back quickly at all. Jack would be missing half an eyebrow for a few days at least. And the singed parts of his hair would need to be trimmed down. Ianto lamented the loss of length in Jack's fringe, he was particularly fond of running his fingers through it, and the way it fell into his eyes added a boyish nature to his handsomeness.

He sighed once again as he leaned his head against the car window. He allowed his fingers to wander through Jack's hair.

"Why do you do this to yourself Jack?" Ianto whispered, somlemnly.