Title: Backtrack
Ficverse: A Touch of Smith and Jones
Author's notes- This is a deleted section from Chapter 3 of 'Found, But Still Searching...Reset.' It didn't quite fit so it got cut. I still liked it though.
Disclaimer- Torchwood is the property of the BBC. Nick Fury and SHIELD is the property of Marvel.
Colonel Nicholas Fury, Executive Director of S.H.I.E.L.D., stared at the dark windows of the brick row houses across the street as he raised the satellite phone to his ear. "Sure this is the place?" he asked.
"Yes, sir. SIGINT and MASINT both confirm that the signal from Captain Harkness's wristband is located there. It also corresponds to the address we have on file for Torchwood agent Ianto Jones."
Of course, Nick thought. He'd known Captain Jack Harkness- ex-Time Agent and current head of Torchwood Three- for almost sixty years now and suspected that Jack wasn't just sharing a flat with a coworker; most likely he was sharing a bed as well.
"What have we got on this Jones?"
There was a slight pause, then his secretary said, "Ianto Jones, born August 19, 1983. Father deceased, Mother alive. One sister, also alive. One juvenile charge of shoplifting on record. Junior researcher at Torchwood One. Was present at the Battle of Canary Wharf. Transfer to Torchwood Three a week after the Battle at Torchwood One.
Nick frowned. "Wait; this Jones worked for Torchwood One? And Jack hired him?"
"That's what our records indicate, sir."
That makes no sense; Jack cut all ties with Torchwood One when he became head of Torchwood Three; how the hell did this Jones convince Jack to take him in? Gotta be something other than the obvious going on here. "Right. Thanks, Mala." Nick shut the phone down and headed across the street.
The security system on the door was more elaborate than expected and it took Nick a few seconds longer than normal to bypass it. Once inside, he closed the door, reactivated the system, and took stock of his surroundings. It was a basic terrace house; he stood in a narrow hallway, stairs leading up to the second floor to his left while straight ahead was the kitchen. As he stepped forward, Nick glanced through an open doorway to his right. Living room going by the light filtering in from the street. The second room looked to be an office.
There was no sign of Jack or Jones but the pieces of clothing leading up the stairs like a trail of breadcrumbs meant his guess as to where Jack might be was spot on. Nick scowled and started up the stairs. When he reached the top, he heard the soft swish of sheets as someone moved about, and Jack's voice muttering sleepily, "What is it?"
A more alert voice that Nick assumed to be Jones replied in a low urgent hiss, "I thought I heard something."
Nick stepped up to the room the voices were coming from, crossed his arms, and leaned against the door jamb. "So you heard something, did ya?" he said. "Damn, must be losing my touch."
A tired smile twitched his lips at the struggle his words produced. Jones started reaching for something next to the bed-a gun probably- but Jack grabbed his wrist and held him in place. Drawing his legs up, Jones looked ready to kick Jack off but stopped moving at Jack's annoyed, "Don't bother." The two men were still for a moment, then Jones gave a sharp exhale and straightened out; yanking the sheet back up with his free hand when it moved too far down. After a few seconds, Jack let go and rolled onto his back.
As he scrubbed his hands over his face, Jack asked, "Didn't happen to bring a search warrant did you, Nick?"
"Nope. I can get one though if you want me to make this break-in legal. I'm sure I can find someone who will be happy to hand one over just to get me out of their house since it's 4 in the morning." He pushed away from the door jamb. "Got a few questions for ya, Jack." As he walked away, he heard Jones snap, "Friend of yours?"
"Not at the moment," was Jack's annoyed answer.
By the time Jack got to the bottom of the stairs, Nick was sitting at the kitchen table, long legs stretched out in front of him. Jack looked pissed; and yet he had bothered to put on a pair of pants. That was new. he couldn't remember Jack bothering with that little bit of courtesy on other late night visits since he knew it annoyed the hell out of Nick to hold a conversation with a naked Jack. So, why are you being nice to me now? Or are you worried about what Jones might think about you coming down here naked to talk to someone who broke into his place for a visit?
Yanking out a chair on the opposite side of the table, Jack sat and braced his arms on the table. "This better be important, Nick."
"Not sure if it is yet. What have you got on Saxon?"
"Defense Secretary Harold Saxon?" When Nick nodded, Jack shook his head. "No idea. Less than you can get your hands on."
"Can't have less than nothing."
"What do you mean?"
"We don't have shit on Saxon."
"You're kidding. How did that happened?" Jack asked, then turned at the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Jones stepped into the kitchen, dressed in a pair of gray trousers and a shirt buttoned halfway and not tucked in. He walked over to the counter as if there was no one else in the room and pulled a coffee tin out of the cupboard.
Jack sighed as he turned back to Nick. "Would I be correct in assuming this lack of intel has Val a little pissed off?"
Nick gave the ceiling an exasperated look as he remembered the conversation he'd had with her as he flew out of Kandahar. "She was pissed off Sunday. By now, she's probably hit Defcon 1."
"Which is why you're digging for info here instead of at the London office?"
"Hell, yes. I'm tempted to put a level two warning out on that office until she calms down. God help any agent who gets on her wrong side while she's figuring out what happened to those files."
"Yeah." Jack looked behind him again. "Ianto?" he asked in an oddly cautious tone. Jones scowled at him, but it was clear the kid was curious about what was going on, otherwise he wouldn't have come downstairs in the first place. "The sooner you look, the sooner he leaves,"
Jones pressed his lips together and defiantly met Nick's gaze before shaking his head as if he were having trouble believing he was going along with Jack's request even as he said, "Fine. After I get some coffee."
"Thanks." Jack was clearly relieved he wasn't going to have a fight on his hands over that as he turned back to give Nick a small smile. "So," he asked, "anything else you want to know about while you're here?"
"Yeah, now that you mention it. That lockdown you had earlier this year. What was that all about?"
Jones sucked in a breath then swore softly. Something hit the counter with a noisy clatter.
"Why do you want to know?" The smile was gone and Jack's blue eyes went hard and sharp. He tensed as if he couldn't decide if he wanted to get up and drag Nick out of the room or punch him in the face.
Frowning at that reaction to his question, Nick said, "You have to ask that after Torchwood One almost dragged the world into hell after their lockdown last year?" There was a metallic shwick as Ianto jammed the coffee filter basket in place a little harder than necessary. Nick glanced at Jones then back at the man across the table. "I tend to keep an eye on things like that, Jack."
Jack narrowed his eyes as he muttered, "I knew I shouldn't have asked you to help me rebuild the Hub's computers eight years ago."
"You can cry over the spilled milk later. Well?"
As much as Jack clearly wanted to avoid answering the question, Nick knew Jack would answer. Hell, he could have simply hacked it out of the Hub's computer; this was his way of being nice.
"We found a Cyber Conversion Unit in our basement," Jack said flatly. "It's been dealt with."
"A Cyber Conversion Unit?" A sudden suspicion hit Nick. "What, from Torchwood One?" He gave Jones a look. "Your doing?" he asked then turned back before Jones could answer. What the hell, Jack?
He pointed a thumb at Jones. "So you're telling me this kid snuck a conversion unit into your basement when he joined up and you didn't notice? Okay, either this kid's really good, or you got it bad, Jack. Or is it a little of both?"
Jack leaned over the table and stabbed a finger at Nick. "If this conversation is going to move on to my choice in men, Nick, I'm going to test the limits of that infinity formula of yours with Ianto's gun." Jones sucked in a breath and glared a hole into Jack's back.
"The gun ya got tucked in those pants wouldn't of done ya any good anyway, kid," Nick said to Jones. He leaned back in his chair. "And what's with this mood of yours, Jack? You two have a bad day at the office, or something?"
"Yeah, you breaking in doesn't have anything to do with Ianto carrying a gun right now." Jack grumbled. Nick raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. Jack blew out a breath.
"We just finished up a case only Suzie had the answers for," he admitted, reluctantly.
Nick mentally ran down the list of Torchwood members that worked for Jack. "Wait, Suzie Costello? Isn't she the one who blew her brains out a few months back?"
"That wasn't how I put it on her file when I retired it."
"I know the codewords, Jack. Ain't like I haven't had to write those kind of summaries myself. What happened?"
It was Jack's turn to scowl. "We had to wake her up. It didn't work out all that well."
"Yeah, waking up the dead never does," Nick muttered wearily.
The sound of the coffee dripping into the carafe as each man grew silent was a welcomed distraction to Nick. When the carafe was full, Jones poured a cup and headed for the office. Jack watched him go then shook his head, a small smile on his face as he pushed out of the chair.
Oh yeah, you got it bad, don't ya, Jack.
"Want a cup?" Jack asked as he pulled a cup down for himself.
"Nah, I'm fine." For some reason, that answer got him a quick focused look from Jack, then he turned away to watch what he was doing. After taking a long sip, Jack followed Ianto out of the room.
As they stepped into the office, Jack asked softly, "Would I be right in guessing this case is stirring up a few old memories?"
Nick felt a moment of exasperation at Jack's insight. "A few? More like a hell of a lot of them- and all of em bad." Stopping behind Jones as the man accessed the Torchwood database, Nick said, "First time I investigated Stark Industries, I lost half my vision and my brother. The second time, I lost S.H.I.E.L.D.. Don't want to know what I'm gonna lose this time."
Jack took another sip of his coffee and regarded Nick over the lip of the mug. "You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened to Jake, Nick."
"Same way you've stopped blaming yourself for Gray, Jack?" Nick snapped back. It was a low blow, but it was out before he could stop himself. Jack winced as if struck and shifted his gaze to the back of Jones's chair.
Annoyed at his reaction- Jake had committed suicide over 30 years ago; Jack's comment shouldn't have cut that deep- Nick took a deep breath and looked away. His gaze settled on Jones since there wasn't much else to look at in the room.
Jones was half turned in his chair and looking in their general direction, a distracted look on his face; and was clearly unaware that he had become the center of attention. When he did, he just blinked and turned back to his computer. Yeah, you're gonna be lookin those names up when we're done here, ain't ya, Jones. There was nothing to find on Jack's brother Gray- hell, the event Jack lost his brother in wouldn't even happen for another 30 centuries- but there was enough on Jacob Fury to give the kid a headache. Jones might just figure out more about Jack from those files than Nick suspected Jack want him to know.
Hope you're careful with what you find, kid, cause clearly Jack thinks you're worth breaking his heart over.
As Jones started digging through the Torchwood's archive, Jack asked, "Okay, spill. What exactly has you worried about this investigation?"
Nick shook his head. "I'm beginning to think the Stark's kidnapping isn't what we should be focusing on."
"Why not?"
"The pieces don't fit; and the more we dig, the more screwed up the case gets." Nick looked at Jack. "And I'm getting the feeling there's a clock ticking somewhere and I don't know what it's counting down to."
"Whoa."
They both turned to Jones, who was leaning away from his computer as if it had caught on fire. "Find something?" Jack asked as he leaned over Jones's shoulder to look at the screen.
"Uh, yeah." He pulled a file to the center of the screen then looked up at Jack. Jack's eye widen as he scrolled through the file.
"That can't be right," Jack said.
"What can't be right?"
Jack gave a start as if he had forgotten Nick was there. "According to this file, Saxon used the cannons Torchwood One had set up around London to shoot down the Sycorax ship last Christmas on the Prime Minister's orders."
"Wait. The Sycorax event- that happened after Torchwood One collapsed."
"Yep."
"You're telling me Saxon has access to all the alien tech Torchwood One had?"
"Technically all technology that Torchwood recovers belongs to the government," Jones pointed out. "Well, specifically to the Crown but..."
"Great."
Jack nodded at Ianto. "What else do we have on Saxon?"
Jones rapidly typed for a moment, then scowled at the screen. "Nothing you can't find on the Net." He gave Jack an apologetic look. "Might need Tosh's help if we need to dig any deeper."
Nick shook his head; he'd heard enough already. "The way things are going, you ain't gonna find anything. But, if you do stumble across something, contact the London S.H.I.E.L.D. office; they'll send a courier."
"We can just send it via email," Jones said.
"Not secure enough."
"I'll take it," Jack said. He grinned. "I haven't seen Val in-"
It was Nick's turn to stabbed a finger at Jack. "No," he snapped. "You leaving Cardiff makes a whole lot of people high up nervous and I don't need that right now. Call Val, have her send a courier." Before Jack could protest, Nick glanced at Jones and said, "No need to get up, I know the way out."
As he stepped out of the room, Nick decided the answers he was looking for were not going to be found in files, but in human sources; but since he didn't know what was going on meant he wasn't willing to risk his agents on this just yet. Risking his own life, however, was not a problem.
Yeah, I'm gonna be risking my life just telling Mala that she needs to change my appointment with Obidiah Stane again, Nick thought as he shut down the security system before opening the front door. Probably won't get anything out of interviewing Stane anyway, but might be a good way of shaking something loose that we can use. An idea began forming in the back of his head as he carefully closed the door and paused to regard the dark street. Satisfied that no one was around, Nick slipped into the darker shadows and retraced his steps back to the car waiting to take him to St. Athan where he could catch a flight to New York.
After that, it was back to Afghanistan and the scene of the crime.